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rickmandowneyjr · 3 years

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Cuts to Cope

Angst, fluff Pairing: Severus Snape and Student!Reader (platonic) Warning: talk of self-harm, mentions of character's death Word Count: 2348 A/N: This is a little piece I wrote a while ago but didn't know if I should post or not. After re-doing certain bits, I decided to upload it. Hope it's not too difficult to read. As always, the ending is a little abrupt and not too detailed, leaving it sort of up to y'all as well :) Sorry if there are any typos (I only ever get the time to write when it's quite late nowadays)

Yet another day at Hogwarts - waking up at 6:30 am, showering, getting dressed in your robes, and heading to breakfast. Wishing everyone you passed a good morning, wearing your signature smile as you did.

You were a 7th year, one of the few returning ones after last year's incident with Cedric Diggory. He'd been your best friend, or at least that's what people thought. Cedric Diggory and you had been dating for the last 7 months before his death. You didn't want anyone knowing because being star students meant eyes prying into every aspect of your relationship.

People praised you, a model student and now, prefect, who set an example. An example of how to be strong and cope no matter what life threw at you. Little did they know, you harboured a little secret. A dark, horrifying, and disturbing secret that would never let anyone look at you the same way if they ever found out.

Your first class for the day was Potions. You were a brilliant student, especially at Potions, yet Snape still had something against you. You didn't take it personally, though; he wasn't really fond of anyone. You walked into class, taking your regular seat at the front. Snape walked into class a little while later, slamming the door behind him, commanding everyone's attention.

"Turn to page 420," he drawled. You opened the book to find the recipe for Amortentia. Your heart felt a tug at the name of the love potion, never having been able to find out the answers with Cedric.

Snape's deep voice brought your focus back to class as he said, "Since it takes a week to brew, I've already completed most of the process. All you need to do is the last day's work," making the class sigh with relief. "However," he continued, "The last day of brewing is crucial and not easy. So, I expect your attention to be fully on the task at hand."

You began brewing the potion, following the steps perfectly. Snape sat down to grade papers as the class worked. He looked at you and said, "Ms. [L/N], roll up your sleeves while you work. I'd hate for there to be mishaps in my class because of one student's carelessness."

You hesitated, but then did as asked. You weren't the best at wandless magic but had made sure to perfect this spell solely for such instances. As you rolled your sleeves, you subtly waved your hand over your forearms, mumbling, "Illusiont," and casting the disillusionment charm.

You saw Snape narrow his eyes at you and panicked for a second before you saw him shake his head and return to grading. Breathing a sigh of relief, you returned to the task at hand and continued brewing.

After a while, you'd finished, and were the first one to have done so. Snape walked over to your desk and took a whiff of the potion, raising an eyebrow before giving you a single nod of approval, letting you know that it was perfect. Once everyone was done, he walked around, starting at the back, and asked everyone to announce what they smelled. You hadn't smelled your Amortentia yet and hadn't planned on doing so either, feeling quite relieved when Snape hadn't asked that question earlier.

Your heart rate quickened as you began to worry about how your body and mind would react to smelling it. You couldn't do it last year, since the Triwizard tournament had led to a bunch of classes being cancelled. As you thought about how excited you had been at the prospect of sharing the experience with Cedric, Snape's voice pulled you back to your potions class.

"Ms. [L/N]."

"Yes, sir?"

He rolled his eyes in annoyance. "What. Do. You. Smell," he spoke, irritation evident in every word.

You swallowed hard as you leaned forward to inhale the scent. Your pupils dilated, your heartbeat quickened and your knees threatened to give out at the all-too-familiar fragrance. Your throat went dry as you stopped the tears from forming.

"Well? We haven't got all day, class is to be dismissed soon." He raised an eyebrow at you, asking you to hurry up since you were the last one.

With every ounce of energy, you calmed yourself and stopped your voice from wavering. "Old books, butterscotch and... vanilla," you sighed. Your breathing was erratic and you knew you needed to get out of class and get to the abandoned girls' washroom.

As if on cue, the bell rang, dismissing the class. Snape gave you an odd look and was about to ask you what was wrong but you had already gathered your belongings and were marching out the door. He decided to follow you since he'd never seen you act like that before and was wondering what had happened to you all of a sudden.

You made your way up the stairs, hurrying before you had a breakdown in the middle of the hallway. As you reached the washroom, you started rummaging through your bag since the hallway was empty. You took the small blade that you carried around out, pushing the door to the bathroom open.

Snape's POV

I followed her out of the classroom. Though not my favourite, [Y/N] was an incredible witch and this wasn't normal behaviour for her. She'd marched out before I had even dismissed class which concerned me even more, given her usually 'perfect' behaviour. She paced through the hallways and up the stairs so fast that I could've sworn she was moving around faster than I did on a normal basis. There was an urgency in her stride and I don't know why, but it concerned me.

She finally turned into the hallway leading to the girls' washroom on the third floor, which was odd. No one used this, as far as I was aware. I was a little embarrassed, considering I'd just followed a young girl to a washroom. In an isolated area, at that. I swear I never would've imagined myself going even further and following her in, but what I'd seen had shocked and concerned me enough to do just that.

End of Snape's POV

As you entered the bathroom, you had missed Snape, whose eyes were wide with shock. He couldn't believe what he'd seen. [Y/N] [L/N], the golden girl of Hogwarts, had just walked into an abandoned washroom after pulling out a blade from her bag. Not wanting to jump to any conclusions, he rushed in, wanting to confirm what his eyes had just seen.

As you were about to enter a stall, the door to the bathroom, swung open, making you jump. You hid the blade by making a fist, unintentionally cutting into your palm. You winced at the unexpected pain but didn't let it show.

You turned to face Professor Snape, and he was eyeing your hand. 'There's no way he saw it, is there?' you thought.

"Ms. [L/N], care to show me your hands?"

You panicked. He knew. You tried to divert his attention. "Sir, this is the girls' washroom."

"I'm aware," he stated. "Now... Hands," he said as he glared at you, letting you know that he wouldn't fall for any attempts to change the subject.

You sighed and opened your hands, and saw his gaze soften. He walked to you taking your hand in his as he gently pulled the razor out. You winced as it came out, knowing this would impair you for the rest of your classes.

"What were you thinking?!" He scolded, startling you. He reached for your arm, rolling up your sleeves once again and muttered, "Finite."

The scars on your arms started showing up and you couldn't do anything but look away, your eyes resting anywhere but his gaze.

"So that was the Disillusionment Charm I heard you use, earlier."

You stayed silent, still refusing to meet his eyes. Of all the professors, it had to be him. Sure, he wasn't fond of you, but you had immense respect for the man, and to let him see you in this light... it took every bit of you to not lose your composure.

"Look at me," he said.

You turned to face him. His usually cold eyes showed too much concern and the uncharacteristic response from the potions master was proving to be a lot to handle. Tears stung your eyes as he stared at you.

"Why?" He asked, his voice so genuine that you couldn't help but let your emotions spill, creating a mess that you couldn't be bothered to care about anymore.

"I can't do this anymore," you sniffled. "I don't want to. He was everything to me and it just hurts so much."

"Who?"

"Cedric."

"Ah, yes. I'm aware you and Mr. Diggory were best friends. I'm sorry, [Y/N]."

"No," you said, finally being able to talk to someone about it. "He was my boyfriend. And... I never got to tell him I loved him... because I wasn't sure. Today just made it worse when I smelled him in my Amortentia. It confirmed that I did and I never got to say it." You were sobbing now, not caring what you looked like, what a mess you probably were, or what Snape was thinking of you and your confession.

You felt him awkwardly wrap his arms around you as he pulled your head to his chest. Your cries got louder and your wails of agony echoed in the empty washroom as your hands clutched the fabric of his robes. The feeling of someone comforting you was overwhelming. You'd always had to keep up this image of a perfect student, reliable friend, someone who could never have such horrifying tendencies.

Even then, as you cried out loud, your instinct made you bury your face in his chest, muffling the 'ugly' sobs. Snape's heart broke as your thoughts flooded his mind. As you struggled to breathe, he turned your head slightly, making you audible again. He didn't hush you; just stroked your hair as your tears soaked his robes.

It took a while, but you finally calmed down, your sobs reducing to soft whimpers before they died out entirely. Your throat was sore, and lips, chapped from all the crying. Your eyes were red and puffy, and the reality of the situation finally came crashing down on you.

Your secret was out. More than one, at that. One of the professors knew, and the strictest one too. You had just spent Merlin knows how long crying into his chest, which was now soaked with your tears.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, your voice, hoarse. "Your robes are all wet now," you said, trying to move away.

"That's the least of my worries right now," he said, keeping your head in place as he continued, "I understand what you're going through. Better than you'd know." It sounded like it was painful for him to talk about it, the tone of his voice giving the vulnerability away. "But this is not the way to deal with it," he said as rubbed your back.

"Does it go away?"

"I'll be honest," he sighed. "It does get lesser with time if you allow yourself to heal. However, it never goes away entirely. A part of you will always love and miss him. I'm sorry," he said.

"No, I'm glad. I don't want to forget him. Or my love for him. Cedric Diggory was and will always be - my first love."

You finally pulled away from his chest and looked him in the eyes as he gave you a gentle smile. You managed to muster a somber one and sighed.

"Do any of your friends know?"

"Merlin, no!"

"Why not? They're your friends. They could-"

"I can't have this getting out. Everyone will-"

"Who cares what people think?" He raised his voice. It was silent for a while before he sighed and spoke again.

"[Y/N], I want you to promise me something."

You knew what was coming. You gulped and nodded softly.

"I want you to promise me that you'll stop this. Cedric wouldn't want this for you."

"I know, and I've tried before. It's not that simple-"

"I know," he said, cutting you off. "Which is why, the next time you get the urge to do this, you'll come to me. No matter what the situation might be."

You were surprised at his words. It was incredibly nice of him to offer this to you, and you nodded, accepting his generosity.

"Also," he continued, "Please stop going to such great lengths to please others and worrying about what others think. It's not healthy."

"But-"

"But nothing. Your health is suffering and you can't even bring yourself to tell anyone because you're so busy keeping up this little charade of 'everything is fine'."

You stayed silent. There was truth in his words and you couldn't refute his accusations. You just looked up at him, once again, finding the uncharacteristic concerned look meeting your gaze. Nodding softly, you agreed. How could you not when someone had shown you such consideration and compassion?

A small smile graced his usually stoic face as he helped you up, and you both made your way out of the bathroom. He escorted you back to your dormitories, ensuring you were alright before the two of you parted ways.

The rest of the school year passed and Snape stayed true to his word, and you to yours. Every time you felt the urge to hurt yourself to relieve the pain, you'd find Snape. He was patient and helped you every step of the way. Slowly, but surely, you were able to overcome your urges and also found yourself living for yourself, rather than up to others' expectations.

By the time you graduated, you had overcome the habit and thanked Snape in your graduation speech, never giving away the details as to why. A lot of people had assumed there was something between the two of you, especially since you went to meet him all through the school year, but you didn't let it bother you, because... Who cares what people think, right?

P.S. - Sorry I've been a little slow with the writing. My college assignments have started rolling in and I'm currently swamped. Also, I'm working on a little something (announcing it in 2-3 days so make sure to check in lol). Rest assured, I'm slowly and steadily making my way through requests. Thank you for understanding <3

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moeruhoshi · 3 years

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I've been watching anime all day so here's a late nalu day gift

Lucy slammed her bedroom door and flopped down on her bed with a weary sigh, weeping into her pillow as her day finally came to an end.

The open door of her patio allowed her to hear the neighing of carriage horses taking away her most recent suitor, a man who barely knew what the meaning of personal space was.

Just how many princes and dukes had to waltz through their gates before the princess’ father realized that they had no interest in adequately courting her? It was painfully obvious how the lot of them were only interested in her well-displayed décolletage over her personality and spent more time schmoozing up to the king instead of trying to win her favor.

What hurt, even more, was knowing that she could never be with the one who was truly meant for her.

She stared at the red string tied to her pinky, the fiber ending far off in the distance where it connected to her destined partner. It calmed her in some ways, allowed her to feel a sense of clarity, knowing there was at least one more person out there who could give her the true love she craved.

She hoped every day, when Spetto called her down to meet another suitor, that it would be him, the one on the other end of her string, waiting to hold her as she wanted to hold him.

They could instead be a peasant, she thought as her hopes for him to visit one day were beginning to fade. Not that she cared about that kind of thing, but it meant that they didn't have the means to enter the castle easily. Or maybe they were somewhere in a neighboring country, too far away to find her. Maybe he hadn't been gifted the power to see the string and didn't know she was waiting for him but felt just as empty without her by his side.

She was sure if she voiced her knowledge of the red string to anyone else, they would call doctors from all over Earthland to analyze her cognitive function.

But she desperately wanted to tell everyone that she had no intention of selecting a suitor through their gaudy traditions. She would instead venture out into the world to find her soulmate, the person at the end of her red string of fate. But knowing her father, he would only let her marry with the promise of the expanded wealth she would gain him from a political marriage.

"Miss? Are you still awake?" Spetto knocked lightly, the princess holding in her sniffles to hear what the maid had to say. "I'm sure you are…but I won't bother you. Your father wants you to know that he'll be inviting the Duke Cream from Veronica for another visit tomorrow. He's eager to correct his…insolent behavior from the last time he saw you."

The princess didn't bother answering and instead let out a frustrated sigh as the sound of her maid's footsteps echoed down the hall. The setting sun illuminated the crimson strand and her fingers loosely wrapped around it, her weak pout quivering as she tugged on the phantom satin.

"I'd rather have you, whoever you are..."

~000~

"The princess!" Spetto screamed as she ran into the King's throne room. Jude was sat upon his seat with the Duke at his side, their conversation halting at her interruption. "She's gone!"

"What in the world do you mean, woman? I'm sure that no good daughter of mine has just buried her nose in one of those god awful fairy tales again. Have the guards search the library for her," He gruffed, rolling his eyes as her demeanor became more hysterical and shaken.

"I have, your highness! The princess has run away, she's truly nowhere to be found!"

"And just when I was about to be introduced to my bride," The Duke frowned and tossed his bleached hair aside. "Send hounds after her, why don't you? I will not let this girl make a fool of me on this glorious day."

"Go on, then," The King glared at his guards standing nearby who quickly rushed out the door. "I should have known that girl would be trouble. Her mother had always filled her head with nothing but pure nonsense."

Lucy lifted her billowy skirt as she ran through the woods, deep within its darkness, trying her best to ignore the now wailing trumpets of distress audible in the distance. She knew it wouldn't have been long until someone noticed her absence, especially after having heard the reality behind Duke Cream’s visit.

It was by chance, an incident that occurred while she was passing her father's office the night before. Lucy heard the plans he made to arrange her marriage to the Duke, ensuring that their kingdom would absorb the principality. This meant her father would have an entire stronghold on the country of Fiore.

A life with that obnoxious and narcissistic Duke was not one she wanted, nor could even stand the thought of.

So, in a panic, she made plans to run away, leaving when the guards wouldn’t be around, going as far as she could go without any clear signs of which direction she'd taken off in. She persevered through her tiredness with the lone thought of her meeting her soulmate who was sure to greet her with a wide smile and open arms.

"This way! C'mon now, you'll never make it running without anywhere in mind!" A voice tinkled through the line of trees, halting the princess in her place as she breathed harshly and darted around scared eyes.

"Who's there! I-I'm not going back to the castle!" Lucy shouted as she turned about in circles, shrieking as a short blonde girl suddenly appearing from thin air

"Did I say I was trying to take you home? No! Now hurry it up! You'll never make it there if you make stops like this, follow me!" She instructed, turning toward the trees and beginning to run.

"Who are you?" Lucy asked between pants as she followed the shorter blonde, mesmerized by the trail of sparkles she left behind her, and the cute wings peeking out from beside her ears.

"A friend," She smiled as she continued maneuvering them through the woods. "And a guide! You’ll never get where you need to go without my help,"

"So you know where I'm going? You can see my string too?"

"Well, sure! I let you see it after all. Boy, was he worried when I told him you were stuck out here without your magic. Idiot almost killed himself trying to find his way through, but it can't be done by anyone but a spirit." She sighed and shook her head, rambling as they avoided a patch of bramble bushes

"My soulmate...? He was looking for me too? Really?" Lucy felt her heart swell, beating stronger even as she ran, a dazzling smile taking its claim of her lips.

"Yup! You have a very loyal man waiting for you," She giggled. "He can't wait to meet you, said he'd get his house ready and everything while I was out looking for you. I apologize for taking so long, moving around in this realm isn't easy, there’s barely any magic in this land!”

"Magic? Like in books? Isn't that practice all made up?" The princess quirked a brow as the strange girl only giggled again and slowed her movements as they found purchase under the wide berth of a willow tree.

"It's quite amazing someone like you was born here when your home is with us, in the right Fiore. Now, come on! Everyone's waiting!" She grinned, ignoring Lucy's confusion as she pulled them through the hanging branches, the two suddenly falling into the void of the trunk.

"E-Eh?! W-Wha…!" Lucy fell to her knees as she suddenly felt queasy, holding a hand to her head and waited for her headache to subside. She looked up to see where the other blonde had gone, not finding her anywhere and instead met a new and sunny skyline. "Wasn't it…night just a moment ago?"

She stood to her shaky feet, finding her body no longer weighed down by exhaustion, tears, or dirt on her dress. Whatever was in the air made her feel light as, well, air. She'd never felt so amazing before! Just where had she gone when they fell through that tree?

Taking some small steps through the field in front of her, she looked down to her finger, the red string extending into the distance behind her.

"Oh wow…" When Lucy turned around, she was met with the image of a town she had never seen before, curiosity pulling her towards the bustling streets.

It was as she always imagined the streets of the village she ruled above looked; stalls serving food and selling fresh produce, children running and laughing, patrons bartering and making light conversation, happiness in everyone's eyes. Their smiles created her own, and she followed the string eagerly, feeling just right in the Fiore she’d been led to.

She worried this would all turn into a dream soon enough, there couldn't possibly be another Fiore…or the existence of magic at that. Her steps quickened as she feared Spetto would be in at any moment to wake her, feet carrying her towards a patch of woods that broke off from the town.

It would’ve made nice for a peaceful walk if she didn’t think the calm scenery before her would disappear.

“Oi, Gray, watch it!” A sharp voice boomed from the nearby distance.

“Shut it! I know what I’m doing, it ain’t hard to paint a wall, flame brain!”

“Don’t start a fight! We had to rebuild that side of the house five times because you two keep knocking it down!”

Lucy slowed down her pace as the volume of their argument increased but kept her eyes on the string that told her he was just ahead.

Her eyes landed on a red-haired girl pointing a large sword at two boys who kneeled respectively in front of her, bowing their heads as she scolded them.

Breaking through the line of trees, Lucy smoothed down her stray hairs and dusted off her dress, holding herself nervously as she continued forward.

Each step closer made her legs feel like jelly, flushed her cheeks, and made her heart beat a million times faster, her fingers twitching as she held her hands together.

“U-Um...excuse me…?” Lucy’s voice was shaky as she approached the three, her eyes watery as she stared at the pink-haired boy who raised his head at the sound of her voice. The string fell into his lap; he was her soulmate.

The red-haired girl turned to face her first, eyes concerned as they fell on her disheveled appearance. “My goodness, are you okay? You’re not lost, are you?”

“N-No...I—“

"Oh, crap! It's you!"

"Don't say that to a girl, idiot! You have no idea who that is!" The raven-haired boy threw a glare at the pink-haired one who quickly stood up.

“Mavis didn’t tell me when you’d get here, I would’ve come to pick you up if I knew you were...oh, hey, don’t cry, okay? Um, here,” He quickly took the end of his scarf to wipe her tears, feeling a knot in his throat as she gently fell against his chest. "It's gonna be okay."

"I just...I just can't believe…" She shook her head, not minding the stain she created on his shirt. "That you're real...that you were waiting for me."

"'Course I was! Having a new family member is always exciting, and my hearts been leapin' like crazy waitin' for you! You were stuck out there all alone and I couldn't come find you. I'm sorry it took so long."

Erza forced herself and Gray to look away as the blonde hastily kissed their wild companion, his shock present in the stiffness of his back.

He was startled by the sudden action but felt himself melting into the touch, desperate as well to be close to his soulmate.

"I'm home," Lucy laughed with a bit of surprise, Natsu's eyes widening along with his grin.

"Yeah! Welcome back!"

#nalu #fairy tail #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #natsu and lucy #natsu x lucy #lucy and natsu #lucy x natsu #nalu day 2021 #nalu day

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sp00kworm · 3 years

Text

Iron Lake

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Pairing: Qene (Male God [Bird Creature]) x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Wound Descriptions, Blood

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Ore was rich in the valleys once. The entire hillside was covered in small mine shafts for digging up iron ore for smelting in the iron works, and that lead to several settlement villages between the city and the ocean. Your family had lived on the final reaches of the valley, towards the sea, for many generations, until the collapse. The men worked as miners, and the women worked the farms. Your own family, however, had moved on long ago. When the iron ore ran dry, and the mine shafts began to collapse, the village was left to the farmers and creatures which plagued the woods and hills. You looked at your sturdy cottage and the barns surrounding it as you sat on top of the newly built dry-stone wall you had just finished. It had collapsed with a recent bull charge and you’d spent a long time building it back up higher so he couldn’t get at your cows. A few heifers were too young and now steered clear of the wall, wandering along the other side of the field. You didn’t blame them. The bull was a neighbour’s, and rarely did he have the beast under control. Smoking a pipe called you, but it was a habit that was best left alone living so rural. You patted your nearest cow and fed her a handful of weeds before taking your bucket and heading to your chickens, which were clucking around the few ewes you had.

The chickens ran on small legs as you shook the feed bucket, and you grinned as you leaned over to toss them some food. The ewes were slower to move and trotted over as you headed to their small food trough and hay basket. You shovelled more hay in from under the shelter and locked the gate before filling their feed and water troughs. The chickens were back following you around as you tapped their own feed buckets again and herded them back into their coop. They happily ignored you closing the caging in favour of the food you had put in their own trough. Whistling, you took all the buckets and closed the gates to the fields, heading back towards the small storage and utility shed to put everything away. The wind rushed over the long grass at the top of the hill and you paused to look up as the sky rumbled with the beginnings of rain. Sure enough, as you looked to the herd, they were heading back to the shelter. There was rain on the way. You tutted and made sure to put everything away before rushing to cover the chickens and make sure the sheep had their own shelter with their raised bedded platform.

As you finished checking on the cows, the heavens opened, and you rushed for your small porch, sprinting under the cover as the rain came lashing down, soaking your shirt and bottoms through. The cotton clung to you as you shuddered by the door, watching the grey clouds blur with falling water over the top of the mountain in the distance. It was colder now, and you opened your door to stoke the fire and dry your clothes. You grumpily tugged your wet clothing off and hung it in front of the fire before you rekindled the embers and wrapped yourself tightly in a heavy blanket of white wool. The rain thundered on the roof, and you warmed your toes before pulling on a small pair of moccasins and peering through the glass in your windows. The animals were huddled together out of the rain as it gave the grass and small crop garden you had a good soak. It was miserable. You perched yourself on the small table and watched the weather with a hum.

“And I had so much to do today too.” You lamented quietly.

The rain was white noise after a while, and the clouds rolled over head, still full of rain when you peered back up at the sky. You jumped as a great screech sounded overhead, inhuman, furious and in pain. It sounded again with the thunderous boom of a weapon, and you jumped from the window at the flash of gun powder in the far distance, over the mountain top. Your home shook with another screeching wail as the flashes stopped and the clouds rolled again, the wind howling through the unsealed stone cracks in your cottage. There was another boom of thunder as the cries of the creature paused for a moment. You prayed they hadn’t just shot at a dragon. Dragons were harder than steel plating and bullets or canons did very little damage to their interlinked scales. Fury would follow an injured dragon, but there was no hiss and boom of burning flames. Another ear-piercing screech followed down the mountainside, as a great black figure soared into the clouds and disappeared overhead. It’s shadow hung over the top of the hill as it zipped down through the valley before it screeched again and plunged from the sky, spinning in a mass of glorious golden brown and tawny feathers before it plummeted into the muddy cow field in a mass of feathers, dirt and blood.

The cows mooed violently before trotting out to investigate the lump, the younger females hanging back under the wooden shelter. You watched the feathers float from the sky, shellshocked, before you rushed for your damp clothing and pulled it all back on. You threw on your hooded cloak and rushed out into the rain and wind. The cows called as you rushed to the fence and thumped at their flanks harshly, batting their tongues away from the creature’s wounds. It hissed, feathers brushing upwards as you dared to touch its giant body. It was huge, easily over twelve feet long, the long tail feathers crumpled under its cut legs. It had a great talon missing from one of it’s feet, and blood thrummed from the wound. You rushed to its head.

“Oh, my Sun…” You cursed as you looked at the burning orange eyes that peaked out from the great, fluffy crown of feathers. A beak opened as it hissed again, another, weak scream of upset. A threat, you realised as it’s feet moved and talons slashed at the floor.

“Don’t!” You pushed it’s shoulder as the orange bled to black and it turned onto its other side, flopping over in its attempts to push itself back onto its feet.

“You’re killing yourself!” You screamed at it as it flexed its wings and black blood spewed from its mouth. You gasped at the cavern in its side, bleeding black tar and red blood over its beautiful, soft feathers. It screeched again, madness taking over as it thrashed to get itself upright and managed, shaking on its swollen, bleeding foot. The wound to its torso was heavily bleeding, and blood poured with the stress and movement, revealing the two-inch diameter iron ball wedged in between its ribs.

“Stop!” You screeched again, putting your hands on its wings before two hard arms extended out of the feathery chest. The clawed hands snatched at you, lifting you high to its bleeding black eyes as you gasped. With a small scream, the creature reared its head back and paused as you covered its eyes, small hands encompassing its blackened gaze. Its wings sagged as it’s beak opened to let tar leak from its gullet.

“You’re going to die if you don’t let me get that bullet out of you!” You shouted up at it, clinging to its face, “Let me help you, please.”

The bird-like creature sagged, its wounded feet giving in as it paused to retch blood up once more and placed you back on the floor with a croak. The croak bubbled with tar and blood as its feathers shifted and it looked up at your little cottage. The wind shifted and blew violently, soaking the both of you with more, icy rain.

“I will not fit.” It whispered deeply, as though its voice was being carried to your ears on the wind itself.

“You can…talk…” You commented, stunned for a moment as it opened its mouth, “There’s a barn to the back. I used to keep the horse in there, but its empty now.” You reasoned as you opened the gate and coaxed the bleeding beast through the rungs. It cried out as its claws got stuck in the cattle grating, the wound from the missing toe tearing and bleeding over the wooden slats. The creature followed, feathers dripping from its body in a bloody trail as it struggled behind you, croaking and wheezing as you heaved open the doors to the horse barn and opened the door to a stall.

The creature flopped into the stall, its burning eyes dripping with tar as it wheezed, wings ruffling as it struggled to keep the gapping wound in its chest off the stone floor. You rushed to kick over a great barrel of sawdust to mop up the blood before disappearing back into the howling wind and rain to grab what little medical supplies you had. A crow squawked by your window as you rushed into the front door, his beady eye following you before it hopped into the house and cawed again, louder. Cursing, you grabbed your old sheets and shoved them into the large cooking pot with the rest of the water from the well. The fire was roaring, and they would soon be clean enough to wrap the wounds. The poultices were a little old, but they smelt fresh and clean, of mint and lavender, and you grabbed the jars and your needles and some fine thread. It would be a botch job at best, but it was all you could do for the creature. You also made sure to grab something for the pain, grabbing a bottle of dragon fire whiskey as you grappled the cooking pot of boiling sheets and shouldered the other supplies. The crow followed you out of the house again and cawed, but you paid it no mind, even as more small birds flocked with it under your porch and in the fields.

The creature was wheezing against the floor, barely breathing, when you returned, and you cursed as its eye opened, devoid of any honey colour, just filled with black. Its eyes rolled and closed.

“Try and stay awake. Please. I need you awake to stop the bleeding.” You scrubbed your hands and hung the sheets to dry as you looked at his chest again, eyeing the iron ball wedged under his bottom rib, mashed in with broken feathers and splinters of stone. With a shaky hand, you took hold of your small set of forceps, usually used to help cows calf, and soaked them in the boiling water before you dared to ease them under the plumage and grip the bullet. The creature screamed but didn’t lash out, and so, you committed, heaving the bullet down, and out of its chest with a rush of tar like goo and blood. It croaked against the stone and you reached for the fresh water and salt to rinse the sharp pieces of feather and stone away before you plucked the broken feathers around the wound away and eyed the wound for any other artifacts. It was clean. You jumped as one of the creature’s leather skinned arms appeared from out of the feathers of its chest and reached for the large bottle of whiskey you had brought. It hissed and pulled the cork free with its beak before pouring the strong alcohol into its gullet, grumbling, and croaking after with the burn.

“That much will knock you out good.” You promised as you stroked its feathery chest and pulled out your needle, sterilising it in the boiling water before you threaded it, knotted the end, and got to work, suturing the wound closed where you could, as tightly as you dared. The bird creatures’ skin was dark underneath its feathers, leathery to the touch and tanned. You closed the final part of the wound and tried not to slip too much as you knotted the end with blood slick fingers. The tar was gone, no longer leaking from its eyes and mouth. Quietly, you listened to it breathe, wheezing softly against the floor. You took hold of the mint poultice and applied a layer with honey over the wound to soothe the raw, sore skin. Wings shuffled as you reached to tear apart your sheets into large strips to wrap the wound. It cried as you returned and eased its chest up enough to reach around, duck under its arms and wrap the whole thing tightly. You pinned it before letting it rest as you cleaned and wrapped its foot, wondering if the toe would need cauterizing as you left it be, snoozing in an alcohol induced sleep. You made sure to pile hay around him for the night before you closed the doors tightly and looked at your cottage.

The crow from before cawed again from your small porch, fluttering about the floor before it landed by your window and watched you as you hauled your supplies back inside.

“What’s brought you here?” You asked, “I don’t have any seeds for you!” You shouted as it followed you into the house and settled itself over the top of your fire, seated in a small handkerchief on your mantle place.

“Fine. Make yourself at home then.” You scoffed as you looked over at your cooking pot and poured the water out of the window. You were drenched through to the bone and you shuddered as you stoked the fire again and stripped off your clothing. You hung it by the fire and sniffled as you dried off and then wrapped yourself back in your large blanket, content to snuggle into your large armchair and warm your toes by the flames. It was soothing to hear the rain slow to a patter against your roof and the soft cawing of the crow nestled in front of you. Your eyes drooped as you snuggled into the blanket and forgot about the creature laid in your barn.

A great squawk in your ear woke you up, and you jumped awake violently before the crow stomped over your lap and jumped up and down on the arm of your chair. You looked at it in confusion before pushing the blanket away and shuddering. It was cold. Using the blanket as a shawl, you stoked the fire again, throwing some more kindling and then logs into the embers to get it going as the crow fluttered into your kitchen and snapped at the crumbs on the side. You huffed and pulled out a small bag of sunflower seeds before you put a small handful in a bowl and watched the crow go to town.

“You’re a weird little thing.” You commented before going to get dressed in the small room you had to the left side of the cottage, leaving the crow to eat and hop around, so long as it didn’t decide that your floor was a good place to poop.

The crow was still on the countertop when you returned, watching you through one, beady black eye, as you walked towards it. It flapped in protest as you stood in front of it but didn’t squawk or fly away. It stared back at you, its head turned and tilted up to see you properly.

“Are you here for the creature?” You asked, no louder than a whisper.

In response, the crow flapped again and gave one short, loud honk.

“Hm. I don’t think I trust you just yet.” You scolded gently before you offered your hand to the crow. The corvid pecked a finger before stepping onto your hand and skipping up your arm, hopping as it went along your sleeve, its beak holding itself up when it slipped against the cotton.

“Come on then. Let’s go and see how our house guest…well, our barn guest, is doing.” You tapped the crow’s beak and headed towards the door. You both looked up at the morning sun and smiled, thankful for the sunshine. The crow flapped again and spread its wings to soak in the rays before you turned to head around the back of the cottage where the barn was.

The rain had washed away most of the blood, leaving clumps of muddy feathers around the rocks and fence posts as the evidence that the creature had passed through. You stepped over a puddle and heaved open the barn door. A great rumbling croak sounded as you stepped inside, leaving the door open a little to let the morning air in. The creature’s feathers dragged against the piles of hay and the stone floor, as it struggled to raise its head. When it managed to get high enough, one, burning orange eye peered over the top of the stall, eyeing you as you approached the wooden gate.

“Good morning.” You uttered as it flopped back against the floor with a sad, long croak. The crow on your shoulder squawked again before fluttering down to the great beast and moving from the bottom of its tail feathers to its hooked beak. It opened one giant eye and huffed before looking at you again and opening its mouth.

“Sustenance.” Its great voice rumbled before closing its eyes again, struggling to swallow as the crow pecked gently at the loose feathers on its face, pulling them free before it tapped its beak against the other and flew up to the side of the stall.

“Food?” You asked, “Well, I have some but certainly not enough to feed you. You’re giant, if you don’t mind me saying and I don’t know if I could feed you.” You confessed, holding the top of the gate as the creature hissed lowly and dragged its great claws along the floor.

“I will hunt.” It rasped.

“NO!” You grabbed it’s shoulder, gently pulling it back down, “You’ll open all of my hard work. You, sit there. And you,” you pointed to the crow, “you’re coming with me.”

The crow nodded and fluttered out of the barn. Before you could turn to follow, the giant bird-creature rustled its feathers and its leathery, clawed hand appeared, holding your waist to keep you in place.

“Thank…you.” It hissed, “I am… Qene.”

It’s name was hissed, a long pronunciation of E’s which made you wonder just of what race is was. If it was a fae, it would not have told you it’s true name, lest you bind it in contracts. You introduced yourself quietly and it nodded, slowly, exhausted still.

“I am…God of the Valley. Wind, weather and bird.” Qene rasped, “He who…controls the mountains.”

“A…God?” You whispered as the creature let go of your waist, “A god in my barn and…”

Qene huffed and collapsed again in his hay bedding.

“I’ve got questions but let me feed you first. What do you eat?” You asked.

Qene raised his beak from the hay to speak, his voice like a small thunderous rumble, “Meat. I hunt…deer and elk. Anything to then give back to the…” His eyes closed slowly, the orange disappearing behind his eyelid before he fell back asleep.

“I guess a chicken might have to do…or maybe I can get a deer from Thriskar.” You pondered as you followed the crow out of the barn and went for your bag and a bow.

Thriskar scoffed at your request, “A deer? A whole one?” The orc sniffed before he carried on skinning the buck he had strung up outside his small home, “What the fuck do you need a whole…” he smirked then, suddenly, as though he had been told the funniest joke, “Do you have company over? Wanting to impress?”

With a snort, you were quick to flip your middle finger up at the orc, “Yeah, fuck you. I need it for pickling and smoking. I want to not live off my cows again this winter.”

“Well, you’re in luck then.” Thriskar commented, rolling his eyes as he wiped the blood from his hands and pointed to the young buck hanging in his shop, “I caught that yesterday. Should be drained enough for smoking now if you want it.”

“How much?” You asked, sceptically.

Thriskar grinned as he tapped the counter in his shop, perching himself, leaned over the counter, before he tapped his lips, “A kiss and four bronze, or seven bronze if you’re feeling less generous.”

“You’re the worst.” You commented as you handed him the seven bronze coins, “I should be able to carry it before you offer that too.”

“Here.” Thriskar laughed as he pulled the creature’s pelt out and tied the deer in a sling like fashion around your back, “You should get it back now.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, don’t make a habit of it okay? I won’t give you the skin for free in future!” he warned as he saw you out of the door and down the path back towards home.

The crow squawked overhead, and you saw Thriskar look up and shake his head before the crow landed on your shoulder.

“Well done. Now he really will think I’m a witch or something.” You scolded the crow as it hopped from your right shoulder, over to your left.

“You don’t need me for that. He likes you enough to want a kiss, doesn’t he? Does that affection not prove anything?” The crow squawked.

You felt your back go cold, “How…can you…”

“Talk?” It asked, “I am…omnipresent within my children.”

“Qene?” You asked as the crow eyed you.

“Yes…” It rasped tiredly, “I wanted to ensure you would be safe.”

“I’ll be fine! There’s nothing but pesky fae and annoying goblins, and they know not to mess with me. I like salt, iron and flowers too much.” You smiled. The crow’s head turned again before it let out another squawk and shook its wings and head violently, as though it had been released from some kind of spell.

“Yeah, I can’t imagine that was lots of fun, huh?” You asked as you stroked the crow’s head and carried on along the path.

Home was a great greeting of farm animals. The chorus was loud and upset, as they had expected their food early in the morning and now it was almost midday. You heaved the deer off your back and onto the porch. The cows crowded the gate as you went to retrieve a hay bale with a pitchfork. There was a lot to tend to before you could give your guest the food he needed. The cows were happy for their filled hay and you were quick to give the sheep and chickens their food before you dragged the deer away from your little crow friend, and towards the large barn on your back. You opened the door and peered inside. Once again, Qene lifted his head, just high enough to see over the top of the stable door, his burning orange gaze looking directly at you.

“I’m back.” You smiled, “And I got you this!”

“Meat?” Qene droned over the top of the stable, “Deer…. No innards.”

“We don’t tend to eat the insides…the intestines are for sausages though.” You told him as you opened the door and laid the deer over the stone floor.

“Sausages?” Qene rasped, his head tilted as his feather’s rustled, and he pulled himself along the floor, his beak opening.

Spit dripped from his beak as his tongue extended, pointed and tanned like his skin. He licked at his beak before he took a great chunk out of the hind of the deer.

“Thank you.” Qene rumbled as he threw his head back and swallowed the chunk of deer, “This…will help.”

“You’re welcome.” You smiled as you reached to pluck one of his feathers from the floor, looking at the now dull brown colour. When it had been attached to his face, it was shiny, golden and beautiful.

Qene ripped more from the deer and noticed you spinning the crushed feather by its quill, “They do not live once they are detached…True power flows through them, but they cannot be removed with it forcefully.”

“What kind of power?” You asked as you sat by the stable door, “I’ve…Well, I guess you are a God.”

Qene scoffed, “It is why I took a bullet to the chest.”

“They’re after your feathers?”

“Yes. Fools that they are.” Qene snorted again over the carcass, “Even if they have no value when they are forcibly plucked.”

You decided not to press the issue, and simply sat as Qene ate, intrigued by the way he plucked at the meat, tearing it all from the bones before smashing open the bones for the marrow inside, his tongue licking at the blood and goo before the bones were then crushed and eaten.

“We really should change your bandages.” You offered as the God finished crunching the brains inside the skull.

“There is no need.” Qene grumbled as he swallowed the last pieces of his meal, “This will be enough for me to heal fully.” His eye turned on you again, “And soon I will be out of your hair.”

“What do you mean you’re almost healed?” You scoffed, “Let me see.”

Qene chuffed and opened his bandages with a swipe of his claws, “See for yourself.”

You shuffled through the hay and looked at the exposed wound below his ribcage. Except, now it was no longer a gaping wound, it was a healing wound, scabbed over where you had stitched it, the flesh filling the line quickly, and moving by the second.

“How is that happening?” You asked in fascination, “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I am the God of this valley. God of the Iron Lake valley. I am not…held by your mortal deigns.” Qene rasped, his voice growing in strength like a thunderstorm now that he had eaten, “But I would…like some more of that Dragon Fire Whiskey, if you have anymore?”

You looked at his feet and noticed his toe had not grown back, but was quickly snapped from your revere as you smiled and laughed, “More whiskey? Its only just past midday but sure. I’ll go and get the rest of the bottle for you, since you’re a God and all that.” You turned to stand and opened the stall, “Does it even have an effect on you?”

The God huffed and opened his beak in something that looked like a smile, his claws tucked under his head and his wings blanketed over his body, “Not greatly, but it is strong, so I can feel the effects for a moment.”

“So, when you chugged it for the pain…”

“It did not help for a long time.” Qene confirmed, “But I am grateful for your help. Without you, I would have gone mad and destroyed much of this place in my agony.”

“Well, you’re welcome. It’s the least I could do after what other humans did to you. Now, let me get you that whiskey.”

Qene’s feather’s rustled in the valley winds, and he raised his head as he stepped out of the barn, his claws dragging on the floor before he spread his wings and let the wind run through his feathers. A few final dead ones fluttered away on the wind, browning as they disappeared up the hills.

“It feels like an eon since I felt the wind.” Qene rumbled as he flapped his wings and stood tall to look over the fields and up to the mountain, “I will now no longer burden you.”

“I…I’m glad you’re well, but…” You looked at the mountain again, “Won’t they be waiting for you?”

“Waiting for me?” Qene rumbled, his head tilted to peer down at you, “They may be, but my home is my own…”

“Why not stay here?” You asked as the small crow cawed and landed on your shoulder, “They won’t look for you here.”

“And why would you want this?” he asked as he dipped his head, “I am not of your kind, nor am I a welcome guest. I fell into your home.”

“But you are also a welcome one now.” You smiled at him, “I don’t mind you being here. You even helped me get those hay bales out of the barn.”

Qene’s eyes looked to the mountain with longing, “My home…”

“You can go and see…but if you want to come back then…”

Qene lowered his beak to your head, pressing the top to the top of your skull before he looked you in the eyes and licked at your cheek, “Silly human. I…” he rumbled, “I will see my home, but I will return…for visits or for…If my home is not inhabitable.”

You reached up to his face and carefully stroked along Qene’s feathered neck, the golden feathers soft and pretty, “Come back when you want.” You smiled, “Maybe you can replace the whiskey you drank, huh?”

Qene laughed, his beak open and eyes closed, “Perhaps…Or maybe I can bring you something better?”

“Something better?” You asked.

The God nodded his head, “I will bring you a feather, if I return, and weave it into your hair.”

“To what end? What does that mean?” You stroked his neck.

“That you are chosen by me, by the valley god…” he confessed, “That you will be my priestess.”

You laughed softly, “I don’t know about being a religious figure but…”

“You will be mine?” Qene rumbled, his wings flexing.

“Maybe I will, Qene.” You promised before the God flexed his wings and pounded them three times, lifting from the field and into the air.

The crow on your shoulder rubbed its head under your chin, “I will be here. My eyes see everything.”

“I know, Qene. Good luck.” You whispered to the crow before the shadow in the clouds disappeared back towards the mountain.

Weeks past with warm weather and pleasant breezes. The mountain was silent, looming in the distance over the valley, and you tended to your animals and small vegetable patch. Thriskar came for some milk and eggs, looking at the sudden brightness to your animals and farm.

“It is like a God has touched this place!” He commented over a cold glass of milk one day, crunching carrot sticks between his teeth as he looked at the farm. His comment made you wonder just where Qene was. Since he had left the farm had been brighter, fuller of life, but quiet and Qene had not spoken through your crow companion for a long time. You were beginning to think something had happened, and often you went to bed after leaving a bottle of whiskey on the porch. This night, you did the same, placing the bottle out on the porch with a small candle in a holder, before heading to bed.

The next morning you opened the door and stood over a single, golden feather. The feather glowed in the early morning light, bright and brilliant, burning with power. The whiskey was uncorked, and the candle blown out. You rushed for both items, grabbing the feather, and clutching it close before you rounded the corner and thundered into the barn. Qene’s orange eye slowly peered over the top of the stall.

“Hello, little bird.” Qene rumbled before he pushed open the gate, “It has been a while.”

“Qene!” You rushed to the bird creature and hugged him around the neck.

Qene raised his neck and hung you before he gripped you around the waist and smiled, clucking softly with a purr before he placed you back on the floor, “I have missed you. My home is gone, destroyed and trapped. I…I searched for somewhere, but I have ended up back at your doorstep.”

“So…You’re here to stay?” You asked gently.

He nodded his head, “If I am welcome. I will make a home here and…I would like to know more about you.”

You looked up at the eagle face. His eyes were covered by golden and brown feathers, and you reached up to push them away, staring at the orange eyes of the God.

“You were always welcome.” You cooed before kissing the top of his beak.

“Thank you, little bird.” Qene cooed back as his leathery skin rubbed against your own, “The whiskey was a treat.” he chuckled.

“You’re going to have to give me some way to buy more! It’s so expensive!” You scolded.

#forest god x reader #god x reader #bird creature x reader #fae x reader #monster x reader #monster bf x reader #monster bf #monster boyfriend #qene x reader #gender neutral reader #monster reader insert #bird man #bird creature #valley god x reader #valley god

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sinisterlyhan · 3 years

Text

02. kim seungmin / 9435 words

female reader, virgin reader and virgin seungmin, oral (f & mreceiving), unprotected sex (this one is by choice, have safe sex everyone!), making out, fingering, angst with fluff

tw: light mentions of insecurities

a/n: hello, i am back after my sudden mini-hiatus to ruin everyone’s day! i have not written smut in a while, so i hope this piece isn’t too bad. also, the first part of this piece was originally posted on my sfw account so if you find something that is the exact same, that is also me.

you have always gotten emotional over seungmin leaving. even if it was just for a one-week christmas break with his friends, or a two-week music camp field trip with his choir group, or a two-month summer vacation with his family—you have gotten emotional over him leaving one way or another.

not dramatically, of course. it wasn’t like you were spilling waterfalls of tears and throwing temper tantrums over not being able to see or hold him for seven days straight; if that was the case, seungmin knew for a fact that he would not be able to handle it, especially since those absent days happen every single year.

you just get a little naggy, caringly naggy, like you’ve got amnesia every five minutes and you would keep reminding him to take care of himself, or make sure to have a good time, or think about you when he is away.

and seungmin does. he always does. whether it is at night on the soft hotel bed or walking down a loud foreign street, he makes space for you in his head and he shows that he has been thinking about you by sending you pictures and getting you souvenirs.

sometimes he becomes the annoying one because he keeps spamming you with pictures. you still remember playfully threatening to block his number after he sent you a frame by frame set of pictures, where you saw the entire process of jeongin tripping on jisung’s fallen body (because he tripped on thin air first) and falling to the ground.

it was a good blackmail material. you could pinpoint exactly the moment where jeongin realized he would be making friends with the brick ground, his eyes wide in alert and his arms flailing out in a poor attempt to grasp the air for support. when the boys came back from music camp that year, you made sure to give jeongin a big smooch on the head, which he begrudgingly accepted.

you have always gotten emotional over seungmin leaving. but not this time, not in a sense that you didn’t feel anything about his departure, it was just that… you were different this time.

you were ecstatic the first moment you heard that seungmin, along with his friends, passed theit idol audition and would get the chance to train under a prestigious entertainment. it has always been his dream to sing for people, you had been beyond proud of him to achieve the spot. it was until he broke it to you that he would have to move to seoul to pursue his opportunity when the realization finally dawned upon your silly, silly head.

he has to leave. he wasn’t breaking up with you, no, but he has to leave. for however many years it would take for him to qualify for debuting, and after that, there would be years of the dating ban, and then there would also be tight schedules and long distances.

seungmin was only leaving the city, but it felt like he was leaving you.

you left him to his own devices after that, stalling and wasting all the times you could have spent with him to make the remaining days count. you spared no playful nagging and no playful reminders, just unread texts and missed calls.

it was too much for you, you feared too much of the uncertainty—what if you couldn’t be patient enough for him? what if he couldn’t resist another’s seduction for you? what if the both of you couldn’t fight against time, the time that would pick and pinch at your affection for each other until there is nothing left to share?

seungmin zipped up his luggage just as the door to his bedroom knocked. he barely glanced behind his shoulder to look at it, his back arched in pure exhaustion at how his heart had been spiraling depressively for the past week. it was his last night in his home, his last night in his home city, that alone was enough to make him feel anxious and homesick.

but nothing had prepared him for how disastrously affected his heart would be when he realized he might have to leave without seeing you, without touching you, and without hearing that you love him once more.

the impatient knock came again and he finally stood up, his brows furrowed in annoyance. he moved over to his door, ready to tell his mother for the fifth time this night that he would not be changing his mind and he did remember to bring enough clothes, but when he swung open the door, it was you who stood before him instead.

“hey…” you said, clutching your jacket tightly.

he opened his mouth but only air slipped out. you looked as tired as he did, and he could tell you have cried yourself to sleep for the past days. as much as he wanted to immediately wrap you in his arms, to feel you against him, he found himself stepping aside and giving you space into his room first.

his room was as dim as it usually was during night time, when seungmin has the habit of turning off the main light on the ceiling and instead, flipping on the warmer light on the wall. it was a cloud-shaped light; seungmin hated it until you decided to decorate it with cartoon stickers during a sleepover. he has never looked at it the same way again.

the first thing you saw was the luggage on the floor, packed and ready to be sent away. your heart dropped slightly at its indication, then you quickly picked yourself back up. you have talked to yourself about this, you have thought about this and decided you wanted to support his dreams instead of dwelling in your misery until the sadness replaced itself with guilt and missed chances.

“you–you packed,” you said, gesturing towards the luggage on the floor before you turned around to face him.

“yeah.“ seungmin nodded. “i leave tomorrow morning.”

you hummed in defeated acknowledgment. the tension was more longing than awkward, the air waiting for one of you to break out of restraint first. turning to look at his opened closet, you raised a brow at the empty hangers lining up to the side of the closet before you finally caught sight of three colorful hoodies hung at the farthest corner.

you laughed meekly as you pointed at it, hiding the sobs in your throat. “you–you idiot! you forgot to pack your favorite hoodies.”

seungmin looked over, his fingers fiddling together nervously as his mouth hung open in a poor attempt to explain why he had left those there. his mind fired quickly and the first thing he did was only to state the obvious. “i am going to leave them here.”

you frowned at him, your lips curling down and your cheeks bulging out at the pressure.

seungmin softened at your incredulously curious eyes, his shoulders visibly relaxing as he waited for you to speak. “but why? you should at least take the blue one, you look so good in it and it’s your absolute favorite one.”

he licked his lower lip, a faint smile blossoming on his face. he stared at you, blinking gently. “it’s your favorite one. they’re your favorite hoodies too.”

you sucked in a rapid breath, understanding his intentions. he left those there for you, a token of your relationship, a token of his love. it was a way to tell you that he, until the last minute, still thought about you; a way that didn’t require the use of cheesy text messages or well thought out confessions, which he was never very good at anyway.

just three colorful hoodies in his empty closet, all of them covered in his warmth and his scent.

you bit your lower lip to hold down a sob as you walked over to the closet. it was much less messy than usual, which felt out of place for you. being able to see the shoe boxes stacked at the back of the closet was unfamiliar, they were usually covered by his shirts and sweaters, occasionally seeing the light of day when seungmin pushes the clothes to the side or you steal one of his shirts again.

peeling the light blue hoodies off the hanger, you carefully threw it over your head and marveled at the way that even though its fabric went loose around your torso, you felt fulfilled and warm wearing it. bringing your sweater paws up to your cheeks, you inhaled the sleeves and closed your eyes at the smell of flowery detergent mixed with seungmin’s familiar fragrance.

it was a match made in heaven; it was a smell you could recognize even if you were rid of most of your senses because for so long, it was what home smelt like to you, and it still is what home smells like to you.

would you forget, after years of separating from him? would you still remember it but somehow he stopped feeling like home anymore? would your heart lose him to time and distance?

seungmin sighed with the shattering of his heart when he heard you choke out a sob. you had begun to cry, your tears staining the hoodie sleeve as you wailed your fears and longings away, and he wasn’t very sure what to do. he was never good at handling criers because he wasn’t one, and neither were you before this happened.

“(name)…” he took a step forward but stopped when you turned around.

“i’m so sorry for ignoring you these weeks,” you said, your voice teary and timid, but loud and strong enough to make seungmin’s heart pound against his chest. “i’m sorry if i made you think i don’t support you and your dreams. i need you to know that i do and if you have to leave this place to go after it, you should.”

to be honest, the idea that you didn’t support him has never crossed his mind. he knew you would, for some reason. you had always been there for choir shows, you listened to him talk about all the musical things he did during camp despite not understand instrumental talk, you never failed to praise him for his incredible vocal talent—you had always been the first in line when it comes to him and singing.

you were upset, he understood, that he had to leave you here and he only gave you a two weeks notice that he would be leaving for years, plus the uncertainty that your relationship may never work out as smoothly as it could when he was still an unknown high school boy with big dreams.

he couldn’t get mad at you for avoiding him until the last minute.

for one, he understood why. he supposed he would be pretty disheartened if you did the same thing as well. for two, he just couldn’t bring himself to get mad at you at a time like this, when he needed his last memories of you to be nothing but loving and heartfelt.

heaving a sigh, he got on the bed and scooted to the middle where he sat with his feet dangling off the edge. he opened his arms and beckoned you over softly. “come here, my love.”

you did, stumbling closer to him until your thigh met with his feet. he leaned in to hold your hands, giving your arms a few childish swings before he pulled you on his lap, helping you position yourself by circling his arms around your waist and preventing you from falling off his thighs.

you sniffed when he kissed your cheeks, giggling in feign disgust when he grimaced with a complaint about your tears having a salty taste, and you burst into another fit of feathery laughter when he went to smooch your cheeks again just to mend the dry trail of waterfalls down your skin.

“i missed you so much,” you muttered, your voice almost giving away as you cupped his jaw in your hands and stared into his heart-shaped eyes.

“i missed you too,” he mumbled under his breath, bringing you closer to him unconsciously. “i am so sorry for making you cry.”

you hummed in disagreement as you lightly shook your head. your fingers pressed against his cheeks, clinging to them and hugging his face carefully in a way seungmin never wanted you to let go. your accepting smile made him fall, again and again, and he had to hold himself down so he wouldn’t kiss you right then and there.

“i’m sorry for wasting all these times, we could have been this close every night,” you said quietly, trailing over his features with your teary eyes. “i hope i am not too late.”

seungmin smiled, his eyes squinting with a crinkle of his nose. you can never be too late for him, his heart is ready for you at any moment of his remaining life, whether it is thinking about you quietly or having you pressed near his body.

seungmin will always be ready for you, all that you will give him and all that he is ready to give you.

“it’s never too late to kiss me,” he whispered close to your lips, feeling your back squirm under the weight of his words.

rolling your eyes at his words, you squeezed his cheeks before gladly leaning in so you could press your lips against his. his fingers gingerly clawed at your lower back as he other hand flew up to hold your wrist, any attempt just to touch your bare skin.

god, your lips. your soft, soft lips, made out of sugar and spice. he could play a thousand strings and sing a thousand words about them; about how kissing you always make him feel so needed and loved, how it makes him feel like there is nothing else he can do better aside from giving you every ounce of strength he has.

it opens a gate to his heart he didn’t even know he had, one only you can open because you are the key.

with the influence of his excited heart, seungmin suddenly started to graze your lip with his teeth, his brows furrowing passionately when he caught your lower lip between them.

you let out a breathy moan, surprised. but you only had too little time to dwell in the shock before you opened your mouth and allowed seungmin to do whatever he wanted.

adrenaline rushed up to your lungs, causing a ruckus beneath your bones as your mind chased itself into chaos. he has never kissed you with such urgency before, with silent pleads pierced in the tip of his tongue and desperate longing tattooed in the way he moved against you. he was kissing you to make you breathless, to make your burn with revelation.

seungmin kissed you intending to linger, so the shape and the taste of his lips will haunt you every day and night when he is away. and damn, it was so good, you were drenched in blissful abandon to let him take full control over you.

amidst this heated moment, seungmin forced himself to pull away for a brief moment to allow his hazy mind to settle down. both of you were adrift somewhere in paradise and both of you had no plans of returning any time sooner.

you kept yourself close to him, your upper lip positioned tenderly against his, taunting him to resist, daring him to let go once more. your eyes were as gone as seungmin’s were when you stared into them, and you inwardly worshipped the way his inky black eyes, devoured in thunderstorms and fallen ashes, could pull you to him so effortlessly.

“i love you, okay?” he declared breathlessly, but his tone was filled to the brim with sincerity. “i love you, three or ten years from now.”

three or ten years from now, whether he only gets to talk to you every weekend or every three months, whether it would be easy to find the right time to catch up with each other or if the process would make him want to pull his hair out—seungmin loves you, and he will wait until he can love you.

“wait for me, please,” he pleaded then, the ocean in his eyes seemed brighter and ready to spill, causing heartache in your chest. he was clutching the hoodie and pressing your hand to his cheek, his shaky movements only calming down at your warmth.

wait for me. seungmin was asking. wait for me, remember me, hold on to me.

you felt like crying again. the volcanic sadness stays no matter how many times you convince yourself things would turn out fine, that you could live without him being near you eventually.

you could deal with the quiet, you could deal with not anticipating his presence when you leave home, you could deal with the untouched skin and unkissed lips. yes, you could, you have to.

“i will, i promise” you replied in a hush, lowering your head. “i’m going to miss you so much.”

seungmin pressed his thumb to your eye carefully, swiping across the wet corners and making you chuckle as you leaned against his palm, looking up at him again.

“i will text you all the time. if i don’t, my friends will,” he grumbled with a scoff, remember how bitter he felt when it took jeongin no amount of effort to get your phone number back then while he had to stall a whole week before mustering up the courage to do so. “we will keep in touch, we all will.”

“you guys better,” you said threateningly, kind of threateningly, making him smile.

and he kissed you again, much softer this time. it was to seal a sacred vow one would find harder to break than any else’s, an oath shared by two teenagers who are so genuinely, so tenderly, and so tragically in love with each other.

“how early are you leaving tomorrow?” you asked after pulling away, adjusting your legs so instead of sitting in a kneeling posture, they wrapped around his lower back, making it much more comfortable for you and giving you two more space to be closer to each other.

“hmm, since we have to take the bus to the train station and we are meeting up at the bus stop around the school before going there together…” he calculated in his head, a pout forming on his lips due to the concentration. “i think i’ll have to leave around seven in the morning.”

that was earlier than you thought. but either way, you never planned to see him off anyway. turning into a crying mess in public early in the morning would not be a plan; if you could, you would rather let him leave just as things are—a soft goodbye to your sleeping form, and maybe you will sob on his bed for a while after you wake up.

“i am not going to the train station with you,” you said, running your hands through his hair before circling your arms around his neck into a hug. you sighed. “so it is just going to be tonight.”

“okay.” seungmin flashed you a faint smile, a bittersweet but endearing one. his pinky gently tucked at a piece of your hair, his fingers brushing back against your temple and falling to your ear. “do you need anything from me before I go?”

“you should be the one getting something from me. i never gave you a congratulatory gift for getting through your audition,” you said with a laugh, tapping his nose with your index finger and pressing your chest up against his for a needed closeness. “i am very proud of you, seungmin.”

he gave you a peck. “thank you.”

and you two just looked at each other. affectionately drawn towards the other like how north sticks to south. you couldn’t help but whisper a loving confession, brushing his hair as the words “i love you” left your lips like a secret only seungmin gets to hear.

“i love you too,” he returned immediately, his eyes shutting for a brief moment to allow the rush of euphoria. then they flutter open so he could look at you and ask, “are you sure you don’t want anything from me?”

you thought for a moment, your brows furrowing in thoughts. there were not many things you wanted to ask from him, most of those you do were out of his ability to accomplish, such as not leaving you here.

“call me when you get there,” you reminded him.

“of course,” he hummed. “what else?”

you sighed, keeping your eyes on him as it hit you that there really wasn’t anything else you needed from him. you just needed him, and you had him the moment you stepped into his room, so you figured you should get the most and the best out of it.

seungmin could see where your eyes were and believe it or not, he was totally on the same page. it was not the type of nights he wanted to spend with words. there were only senses and feelings that he wanted to have threaded through his veins this night, be it loud or quiet, tender or rough, or perhaps both of each opposite.

you leaned in, your eyes moving up from his lips to look into the windows of his brilliant soul. “stay with me,” you breathed into his mouth, “until you leave me.”

seungmin wasted no time to claim your lips once more, rough exhales fanning against your face as he desperately kissed you to fulfill the insatiable desire he held for you. he could feel it in his guts—the cunning and greedy burn beneath his ribs that held so much he wanted to say to you, that the words of his inadequate language were unable to express enough, were threatening to explode from the brisk of his skin.

in all that the world could offer, languages of all places and phrases of all great minds, the only word he knew were you, you, you. and he wasn’t even able to speak it. all he could show you of how he called out to you was through his action; the tug of his hands at your waist and the bite of his teeth at your lower lip.

you squeezed his shoulders, your eyes closing upon the familiar taste of his mouth on your tongue when he boldly slipped past your gently parted lips. the softness that once graced seungmin’s being was long gone. he was hasty now, needy and desperate for all of you, and all you could do was comply with him.

your chest heaved with a low moan when he bit your lip again, his hand pressing you down against his abdomen. your body relaxed against his with a shiver, yet your thighs squished at his sides upon the ever-growing arousal under your waist when you felt him, vividly, against you.

“min–“ you pulled away, looking into his eyes with all vulnerability you have ever left hanging at the lashes of your eyes. you looked at him, your hands running up the side of his face and spreading within his hair, and your shaky gaze scanned his entire face as if your patience was running thin.

he beat you to begging for the intimacy, his face leaning close toward yours just to feel the bone of your nose nudging against his own. there was something about his utter lack of ability to be away from you at this moment.

he was not physically attached to you, but there was nothing else he wanted more of the world than to be so. he would do anything; he would tear down hell and break through heaven, he would destroy the sun and shoot down the stars if it meant to keep you beautifully by his side.

he needed to be attached to you, the love of his life.

“i need you,” he whispered, “please.”

his breath was demanding, but also teasing in a way that he wanted to make this comfortable and loving for you, as opposed to the upsetting farewell you two were having.

you shivered, your half-lidded eyes staring at each shadow that cast over his face in his dim room. your hands dropped from his hair, causing a faint look of disappointment in his eyes, but that was gone as quickly as it came when he realized that you were reaching for the hem of his blue hoodie.

you tugged at the soft fabric, making sure you brought your shirt along with it when you slowly slid them up your body and finally over your head.

the first thing his eyes gravitated toward was your chest, covered by a random bra you threw on because you did not anticipate the visit to turn out like this. he watched with an itchy hand and an unbreathable throat when your hand reached behind your back to unhook your bra. you slid it off your shoulders, showing him your breasts, and you tried to hide your shyness by looking away as you discarded your bra somewhere on the floor.

seungmin’s eyes were glued to your chest, he wasn’t even trying to hide it. you almost wanted to laugh at the hanging of his jaw and the way he was blatantly staring at your close to naked chest, but you kept the amusement to yourself and went ahead to cup the side of his face, bringing his attention back to your face.

you smiled, but then you pursed your lips and begun to shrink into yourself when you realized this was the most naked you’ve ever been with a boy before. not to mention how unconfident you have always been with the way your body looked. the way his eyes were glued to your chest was starting to become a look of judgment rather than an action out of surprise and fondness.

his eyes widened when you suddenly squealed, your head lowering and your forehead bumping against his shoulder. he laughed a little, his hands moving to your wrists before he gently pushed you away from you. you were frowning slightly, your brows furrowed with an uncertain pout on your face, and you refused to look at him until he tipped your chin up with your hand.

he wasn’t too sure why you were acting this way, but what he did know was that this was your first time, as well as his. sex is a foreign subject. that kind of intimacy is drastically different than holding hands, or cuddling, or making out, or even having late-night philosophical talks until you fall asleep on the phone.

both of you were feeling chilled to the bones with both anticipation and nervousness about how things could go, and both of you probably wanted everything to feel good and perfect.

so if you were hiding from him because you changed your mind, then he’d want you to know you could back out. he could deal with what happened in his pants by himself later.

“you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he said, poking your nose, “we can just watch a movie, or we can talk until we fall asleep if you want.”

the pout on your face faded slightly upon his words; a kind offer, but one you didn’t need. you flashed him a deadpan smile, your hands moving to clamp atop of his shoulders again as you spoke, “it’s not that. i do want to do this with you, i don’t think there is anybody else in the world i’d want to do this with! it’s just… my… my boobs…”

his eyes drifted down at them and he looked back up at you. “they’re great.”

“they are.” you were doubtful.

“they’re boobs, babe. any boobs are great–“

“seungmin.”

“okay, okay!” he nodded with a fit of a giggle, then he moved in to kiss your lips. his hands moved to roam your sides, brushing tenderly across your skin and creating a trail of goosebumps on his way. he kept kissing you as he spoke, a kiss every other word he let out. “they are great. your body, i love it because it’s yours, and i can’t believe i’m allowed to touch you like this right now.”

you blushed with a heat rushing up your cheeks, burning hotly under his words and the way he kept kissing you. how sweet and cheesy, but you didn’t mind it much. you were too drowned in being adored by him to care about criticizing anything he says or does, you just wanted this moment to keep going so you could finally plunge into the real act.

keeping your hands at the nape of his neck, you moved your lips with his for a second longer before you moved away, making him whine with a low hum.

his hands stayed at your side as if they were afraid, and you were getting impatient. panting, your voice was raspy when you said, “you can touch me more.”

seungmin raised his brows at the permission. his heart sped up at the thought of going beyond your waist and your back. he was thinking about it, but each time he felt the side of his palm brush against the soft skin under your breasts, he flinched away with timidity simultaneously as he grew needier for your body.

he couldn’t let himself just touch you, he supposed, it would be such a bold thing to do. he felt like if he ever did, he would have to find a way to preserve the feeling, and he was very unprepared for that.

“seungmin…” you called out in a feminine voice when he didn’t respond, one that sounded so needy it would surely get him riled up. your hands moved to grab his, bringing them up your body until they almost met at your breasts. “touch me.”

a tease, what a tease. it was only your first time and you were being a tease, looking so divine and perfect on top of his lap you tested his composure and his control over his patience.

he exhaled.

you asked for it.

seungmin took you by complete surprise when he moved. hoisting you off his lap, you felt yourself dip sideways before your back met the soft cover of his bed. he hovered over you, his body stuck between your spread legs, and his hands squeezed your waist to set you in place before he reached down to capture your lips again. you followed his lead, feeling his hand roam across your stomach before they finally moved up to your breasts.

a breath got caught in your throat when he cupped his hands over the roundness. he fondled them, squeezing and pressing his palm against them just to feel your hardened nipples against him. he hummed out in satisfaction when you trembled under his touch, unfamiliar but pleasing, and he let go of your mouth to hear your noises while he moved down your jaw and your neck to leave trails of love marks on your skin as a goodbye gift.

you tilted your head to the side so he has more space to plant his bruises. you could feel his teeth graze you, and he was sucking on your skin so hard you felt pressure within the spot. it was forcing you to make friends with the reality and the level of intimacy you two were venturing into.

he was on top of you, kissing you, dropping crosses on your body, fondling your breasts, and his hips occasionally grinding at your bottom so he could temporarily press down the impulsivity inside his pants.

this was the reality; you two were about to become whole, you want you both to become whole.

seungmin moved away in the heat of the moment, his hands hastily reaching to pull his shirt off his body as well before he dove back to your collarbones and went down, his lips worshipping the veins and bones hidden under your skin. he took your breast in his mouth, sucking on your nipple and flicking the bud with his tongue. you arched your back at the sensation, so foreign yet exciting that you couldn’t help but push down on his head with the same hand that once carded gently through his hair, wanting more and more of him.

he was never going to leave you, though. his lips stayed attached to your body, kissing you down and everywhere he could reach, his tongue darting out the lick wet spots on your delicacy. it was until he reached the hem of your shorts when he paused—this was the place. he eyed up at you, catching the weak and pleading look in your eyes once, then he gingerly moved his fingers to unbutton and unzip your shorts. he carefully slid it off your hips, his fingers tugging against your panties on the way until you were completely naked under him.

the last of your clothes dropped to the ground without a care. seungmin was glued to the glistening sight of your exposed heat. your curled your fists, nervous about what he was thinking as he stared at you. your legs felt shaky as you thought of whether you wanted to close your knees or not, and before you could make a decision for yourself, seungmin already stumbled forward on his knees and brought himself to the edge of his bed.

he grabbed your ankles, his grip soft as he brought your legs over his shoulders with a nod of his head. you let him guide you through the ordeal—resting your ankles on his shoulders and pulling you forward to him. he curled his hands around your thighs when you were close enough.

you flinched, a quick and shivering flinch, when you felt his lips against your cunt. your knees almost smashed his head if he hadn’t tightened his grip on your thighs to keep you from moving. your eyes stayed wide open, staring dizzily at the ceiling, as seungmin continued to do experimental kisses against your wet pussy. one, two, three, four, before he decided it was time for him to dart his tongue out.

he flicked against your clit, miraculously finding it on his first try and staying there when he saw your positive reaction. he abused it, licking and sucking on the bundle of nerves until your bud was protruding and even a little painful from all the stimulation. but he didn’t let himself stop there. the lovely and filthy noises you were letting out, paired with the call of his name over and over again, was too much of a blessing for him to let up.

he continued with his pleasuring, grazing his teeth against your skin as he sucked on you, his fingers making an entrance by slowly sliding himself inside your warm cunt. he didn’t want to do too much so he paid attention to your reaction. it was an ego boost each time you arch your back and moan his name. he has never been better than this.

your legs trembled on his shoulders, having never felt such sudden jolts before and your senses were not familiar with receiving such pleasure. your lips were parted to let out huffs of little whimpers and moans as you relish in the feeling of his touch—a brand-new feeling of joy seungmin was graciously gifting you that was unlike all the others.

you were being touched, you felt touched, and he was willing to do so even when you weren’t sure if you deserved it. such simple ways to make you happy; all he needed was himself, and the lovingness in all of his movements done to your sensitive body.

“fuck–seungmin, seungmin!”

you tried to find words to say in the midst of the pumping of his fingers. your walls were clenching down on the intrusion, coating his fingers with your slickness until it became a slip-and-slide to go in and out of you. you were wet, oh so very wet, and it was all his doing. he could taste your arousal on his tongue and he kept wanting more, so he moved quicker with his hand as if he could fuck more juices out of you with it. your legs bent, hitting his shoulder blades, and you moved your hand down to his head where you tugged at his hair.

“seungmin! you–i’m going to–“ you whimpered out, seeing fading stars in your eyes, “please fuck me, fuck me first!”

he stopped, the manic look in his eyes fading at your words. pulling his fingers out of you, the stickiness not bothering him, he stood up and moved onto the bed and left you cold with an approaching orgasm that would soon fade. he wasn’t much thinking about that—he was still thinking about that, but there was something else he needed to make sure first: did you ask him to stop because you wanted to cum with him inside you? did you want to orgasm from him fucking you with his cock? was that what you wanted, that’s why you made him stop?

oh, but the thought alone… the thought of you orgasming because of him, the thought of you reaching that ultimate pleasure because of him. it would surely be an honor to behold.

he leaned down to your face, his eyes genuine and also somewhat worried as looked at you. taking his clean hand, he brushed the hair out of your sweaty forehead and kissed your eyes. “what do you want?”

you exhaled, your hands awkward so they settled against his warm chest. looking up at him with round and wide eyes, you asked politely, “can you fuck me, seungmin?”

“i was,” he hummed, his other hand casually reaching back down to your heat.

the confidence came when he realized his ability to please you, and he decided he could set his needs aside and toy with you for some reactions he would savor in his head for the rest of his life. he pressed the tip of his fingers against your hole, dipping in but not letting your feel full by inserting.

he played with you, watching as you squirm with a needy expression when he wouldn’t give you what you want, feeling as you bucked your hips up for his hand and asked for him to touch you, and finally when you exhaled in relief as he finally moved his fingers inside your pussy.

“i was fucking you, (name), with my mouth,” he said. “i am fucking you right now.”

oh, but it wasn’t his tongue and his fingers that you wanted the most. he knew that. you knew he knew that as well. he was good with them, it was heavenly a moment ago when he was kneeling on the floor, but nothing could beat the excitement in your chest that was waiting for when he finally stretches you out and officially takes your virginity by colliding his body with yours. you wanted it, both the pain and the pleasure that would follow.

you wanted to be around seungmin and make him feel good as well, and most importantly, you wanted your first orgasm to be when you were near him, the love of your life. you wanted to cum feeling him inside you.

“i want your–“ you shut your mouth in defeat, looking at him with a pout as if that would soften him up.

seungmin smiled at your adorableness, but he as he dragged the back of his finger down your face, his other hand still pumping in and out of your cunt but his pace has since slowed down, all he asked was, “you want my what?”

“you’re pushing it,” you mumbled as you gave him a deadpan look, “i even acted cute for you.”

pulling out of your heat, he grinned with a roll of his eyes. then he shook his shoulders as if throwing a tantrum, his lips puckering slightly as he playfully hit his fist against your chest. “just say it once! i want to hear you say it!”

“seungmin, i’m shy!” you complained, shoving him lightly.

“you weren’t so shy when you were moaning like a minute ago!”

“seungmin!”

“just ask me, just say you want my dick and i’ll give it to you, i promise,” he said, knowing well he would have given it to you regardless of you asking or not.

you huffed, the corner of your lips quirking downward as you glared at him before you mumbled, “i want your cock.”

“what?”

“i want your cock, seungmin,” you pleaded louder this time, looking impatient and annoyed with your furrowed brows and the stuttering movement of your shoulders.

“good girl.” he smiled and pinched your cheek. “see? that wasn’t so hard.”

you took your time with grumbling a complaint about his action. but, however you wanted to see it, he did make you feel more at ease with having sex for the first time. the playful way he talked to you just a minute ago made it feel as if this was just any ordinary activity, and there was nothing you needed to be afraid of. it was just you and him together, and he would take care of you like he always has. you would be fine with him.

the thought diminished for a quick second, though, when you saw that he has taken off his pants and boxers. your opened your mouth, your eyes couldn’t help but stare at his hardened shaft, and all you could do the next second was turn away with an uncontrolled laugh bubbling out your throat.

seungmin looked up slightly at the noise, trying to recognize it, and when he realized you were laughing, he immediately snapped his head to you with a look of utter disbelief.

“are you laughing?” he asked, accusingly if you listened carefully.

you shook your head, your hand failing to cover up the giggles of your throat. “no, i’m not–not specifically at you, i swear!”

he moved over to you, his elbows supporting his upper body as he grabbed your face and made you look at him. he squished your cheeks together as you continued to laugh, your eyes turning intensely into little moons when you saw the hilarious look on his face. he looked you then, the sight of your lips quirking up into such a bright smile was something he took a mental image of. and your giggles trailed into his ears, hammering against the empty space in his head looking for a permanent home. he let the sound of you in with only a single knock.

seungmin softened, allowing him a smile as well. looking at you now, feeling you warm and safe against him now, almost made him want to abandon his dream and just stay here with you forever. how could he leave you—his girl, his favorite person, his best friend. he wanted to be with you all the time.

but he somehow knew you wouldn’t agree to that, you would push him to chase after his goal, so he will. he will miss this when he leaves. the sound of your laughter, the way he could make you snort and scream and make the prettiest and ugliest expressions.

he will miss everything about you during every waking second of his days without you near him, but even time would fail to take him away from you because he would love you through every second of it until he could see you again.

pressing his forehead against yours, he giggled with you. “what are you laughing at, (name)?”

“nothing! i promise!” you replied loudly, then you settled down with a quiet hum in your chest. you reached up for his hands, smiling at him. “i love you.”

“i love you as well,” he said, moving his nose against yours as his voice came out in a fearsome whisper, “please say you want me again.”

your eyes relaxed into a scratch of affection. they moved across his face, taking him in, soaking his feature in you, and you kissed his mouth to speak it into him, “i want you, kim seungmin.”

it was a risk when he pushed himself inside you, raw and bare, but it was a risk you thought you ought to take at this age, and a risk you knew you wouldn’t have regretted taking. he went in slow, his lips moving across your face to soothe out the pained creases while you clutched his arm tightly upon the burn of the stretch. he was bigger than you thought, it felt different, bigger, than when you looked at it.

he kissed you when he moved, hoping to get you to adjust to his size and to get himself more acquainted with the warmth of your walls around him. you didn’t mind the slowness of his thrusts, they were soft and undemanding, they were solid and memorable. you could feel every inch of him sliding within, the slickness of your walls helping him move easier amongst the tightness. your bodies collided again and again with hot exhales fanning against your faces as both of you tried not to go crazy for the feeling of each other.

seungmin kept his hands moving around your body. the map he could never forget; he would always come back to this place in his memories, in the dead of the night when he felt alone. the juncture between your bones, your delicate skin, and your warmth that covered his entirety so perfectly as you sucked him into your body, taking him so well he thought there was no place else he could be.

he only moved faster upon your request. he rutted against you, trying so hard not to get lost in the euphoric sensation that he would begin snapping his hips against yours at a pace that could bring him to the edge even quicker. he needed to relish at this moment where the sensuality happens, and he wanted to feel all of you here alone. but while knowing he wouldn’t go faster, he did want to go deeper into you.

he kissed your lips, swallowing your moans, as he gently hiked your leg up to his back until it rested near his shoulder. he gave you a sharp pound and you let out a choked noise at the heart-pounding feeling it gave you. he inhaled, moving his cock harsh against it and pushing toward that inner part of your cunt again to get another immediate reaction out of you.

your eyes rolled up this time, your jaw dropping with a loud whine that you thought his parents would have heard in their bedroom, but you were unable to bring yourself to think at all, you just wanted more.

seungmin smiled. that was the spot. that was the spot he was looking for.

“is that okay?” he huffed out, thrusting into you, “did you like that?”

“ah–yes, seungmin,” you breathed out, your back arching as the same spot got hit over and over again, waves and waves of pleasure lapping at your veins. you nodded, your hands clutching his arms with whines falling alive at your lips. “fuck, that feels really good.”

he smiled at your approval, feeling the tension at his back relax upon knowing that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. you were enjoying him as much as he was enjoying you. the reciprocation was delightful to acknowledge, especially in a moment as such where he wanted to leave an impression for you to remember by later if you so needed to. he knew he would because thinking about being so close to you would soon be the only escapism he has.

the gentle yet filthy words he had begun whispering into your ears made you feel all tingly and edged. his words praised you, his words worshipped every move you made and every surface of your being, his words loved you as much as his body was loving you.

they made you shiver by embracing your little soul, unraveling you slowly by breaking down the walls of your assumed unworthiness, and they did not dump you to the ground to repair yourself.

seungmin was here, the whole time, for you to reach out to.

he is always ready for you. even with the distance and limits that you were so very afraid of, he will always be ready for you.

sucking in a deep, teary breath, one that paired with a light whimper as you felt your high approaching with each thrust, you reached up for your boyfriend. you circled your arms around his neck, bringing him down to you so you could kiss him fervently. your leg fell off without his support but they clung over his waist to bring him closer with tightening of your muscles.

seungmin’s hands laid flat to the side of your head upon your beckoning, caging you under him as he slotted his mouth longingly against yours, his brows furrowing at the passionate kiss.

“you’re my heart, min,” you confessed softly against his eyes, “i love you.”

he could feel the tears in your eyes but they weren’t falling just yet. he hoped they wouldn’t fall, he wouldn’t know what else he could do aside from kissing those tears away until he has to leave you tomorrow morning. giving you a nod, he rubbed the side of your face with his thumb and smiled endearingly down at your face. “wait for me, okay?”

wait for him, and he will dream, always, about your eyes when you laugh, the way you shove him when he tells a lame joke, and the mediocre food you cook for him during weekend hangouts. he will dream about coming back to your side, about holding and kissing you again, about the intimacy he has carefully shifted into a precious spot of his head.

wait for him to come home so he could make all the dreams come true again.

you nodded hastily, partly because your walls had started to clench on his shaft impossibly upon the tightening of your abdomen. getting closer, seungmin snapped his hips against yours, trying to bring you over the edge and push you down for the ultimate rapture. he looked—stared—at you when your peak approached, a rush of warmth coating his skin as you came around his hard cock, burying him in a blissfully hot place.

your eyes rolled skyward, and he could feel your fingers tightening around his neck, your nails digging into his skin upon the overwhelming pleasure.

he moved, holding your hands through your orgasm, fucking the intensity out slowly and settling you down. he watched as you breathed, waiting for your panting to come to a halt before he picked up his speed again so he could find his own climax. you held him close to you, feeling him hard inside you and giving out light moans upon the feeling of strange friction against your walls.

you could tell when he was getting close, considering his movement become even more stuttered and erratic when he was about to lose himself in you.

he knew better than to cum in you, though. before he could reach his high, he pulled out of you and moved away slightly, his hand going down to pump at his length instead. you blinked—right, you forgot, you two did not use protection. the whiny sounds coming out of seungmin’s mouth helped you come back to your senses and you quickly sat up.

you replaced his hand with yours, an amused gleam evident in your eyes when he stared at you with confusion while being pushed down on the bed by your hand.

you leaned your body down, pumping him to keep him aroused while you found a comfortable position to lay on, and without a second thought, you took him in your mouth. he hissed in surprise, his thighs flexing at the lukewarm sensation of your mouth around his cock, as well as the gentle suction of your inner-cheeks. he pressed his head against the pillow, his mouth hung ajar with whimsical huffs as he buried his hand on your hair, needing something to grab onto as you sucked him off.

the way his cock disappears into your mouth, his tip poking at your cheek with each bob of your head, and how you choked around him when his tip hit the back of your throat was a bliss all too intense for him to handle at once. what was he to do—he knew he could not hold on much longer.

he has never felt his way before, his own hand was inadequate to provide the satisfaction you were giving him. the licks of your tongue, the graze of your teeth, the wrap of your lips; nothing could compare to this, he was drowning in abandonment and this was no false heaven.

his hip bucked into your mouth when he emptied himself in it, a loud groan leaving his lips. you let out a strangled noise of surprise when the bitter taste hit your throat, your eyes widening in dismay but you made yourself take all of him. you sucked all the way back up to his tip, your lips popping off with an audible noise, then you reached up to wipe away the saliva away. you panted, his cum slowly dripping down your throat, and you smiled at him when he looked at you.

“that was…” he licked his lower lip for a second, then he decided against talking and instead raised his arms to beckon you closer to him. “come here.”

you moved over to him, your body slumping down next to his as he brought you into his arms. your lips locked for the millionth times tonight, unable to get enough of each other when each time there was a new taste to the kiss you shared.

“that was my first time,” you commented after pulling away, laying your head on his arm.

“so was mine,” he said, even though you knew.

you sighed then, a blissful sigh. “i’m glad it was with you.”

“so am i,” he whispered against your temple, and when he felt that you wanted to make a joke out of his words, he held you tighter against him and he scoffed. “you know what i mean.”

you giggled, “i do… i just want to make fun of you while i still can.”

“i can’t believe i am about to say this but,” he paused for dramatic effect, “you can make fun of me whenever you want to.”

“you’re right!” you exclaimed, turning on your side so you could look at him. “after you debut, if i catch you doing anything embarrassing on variety shows, i hope you know i will never let you live it down.”

“hey, that’s not fair,” he whined. “one of the main elements in variety shows is to embarrass their guest.”

“yeah, that’s why they can be so unfunny sometimes,” you muttered.

he laughed along with you. that was all he could do; talk about the future as if it wouldn’t be painful, talk about it in light-hearted ways until you could surely let it go.

he caressed your cheek with his thumb, his eyes unable to leave your face. “i’ll come back to you. i don’t know how long you will have to wait, but i promise i’ll find the time.”

“text me a lot?” you asked. he nodded.

“and call me, it doesn’t have to be face time but call me,” you asked. he nodded.

“don’t fall in love with other people,” you asked.

“i won’t,” he answered this time.

and there was nothing more you needed from him.

you sighed, snuggling closer to his warm body so you could breathe with your head on his chest. even though you might wake up finding yourself alone in his room and your head on a pillow, the hollowness stronger than ever, you still moved closer to him. falling asleep to his heartbeat was worth waking up to his ghost.

“then just stay with me now.”

stay with me until you leave me.

seungmin can do that.

#stayverse #stayhavennet #inkidz #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids dark hours #skz dark hours #seungmin smut #kim seungmin smut

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kinglazrus · 3 years

Text

Deep Wounds Ch. 2 - What Now?

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Word count: 4069

It takes ten minutes for everyone to change and clear out. During that time, an invisible Danny floats in one of the shower stalls, his gym bag clutched to his chest, one hand clamped around his mouth. If it hadn't been for Dash's shout of "No!" he might not have hidden in time. Danny only had a few seconds to snatch up his bandages and bag—but not the gauze—before the first person entered.

It was Tucker, thankfully. He gaped when he saw Danny and quickly waved for him to hide. Just in time, too, since Elliot was only a few steps behind.

Now, Danny can only hear a single person shuffling about.

"It's clear," Tucker whispers.

Danny floats through the door of the shower stall, breathing a sigh of relief when he sees the empty change room. He drops his invisibility and dumps his stuff on the floor in favour of clutching his side. "Why didn't I stay home today?"

"Because you want to graduate this year and you can't afford another absence." Tucker grabs his gym shirt off the floor, revealing the forgotten gauze pad, and sighs at the new stains. "I really liked this shirt."

"Sorry, man."

"Dude, you are literally bleeding. Shut up. You don't need to apologize. Just be glad I got my shirt off before Elliot could see the damn thing." Tucker grabs the gauze, rolls it into a ball, and tosses it toward the garbage can. "Ten points!"

The gauze bounces off the rim and falls to the floor.

"Zero points," Danny says.

"Rude."

"Hey, I'm bleeding, remember?"

"That only gets you a pass from saying sorry, not common decency."

Danny's shoulders shake as he laughs. It hurts, making his left side throbbing, but trying to hold it back hurts worse. "Ow, ow, ow," he says, gasps of pain interrupting him. Curling over, he hugs his side even tighter, fighting back a sharp cry. The tension in his body doesn't help, but the pressure on his side feels good.

"Sam on her way?" Danny asks.

"She's grabbing the first-aid kit from my locker. I'll fix you up this time. We all know I have steadier hands." That A-plus in home ec isn't for nothing.

"Thanks," Danny mumbles.

"Yeah, dude. We've got you."

After Sam arrives, Tucker redoes Danny's stitches in record time. Half of the lunch hour has passed by the time Danny gets patched up, but he doesn't feel hungry anyway. Tucker takes his and Danny's bloody gym shirts and stuffs them into the first-aid kit.

"I need to refill on some supplies at home," Tucker explains. "I'll get rid of these there."

"Good idea. My mom found a pair of jeans I forgot to throw away after a fight with Skulker. I had a hard time explaining that one away," Danny says. The "I tripped into a window" excuse probably only works once, anyway. "But we have another problem."

"Dash?" Sam asks.

Danny nods. "Yeah. How did you know?"

"He was acting weird when gym ended. Wouldn't let anyone come inside until we pushed him out of the way."

"Huh." Danny certainly didn't expect that. Dash might be a downright bully anymore, but he's still not prone to random acts of kindness. "That's... weird." It doesn't make up for him tearing Danny's wound back open, even if it was an accident, but it's something.

"I think we might not have to worry about him," Sam says.

Danny stares at her, incredulous. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, actually. He could have done anything when he saw the rest of the class coming, including telling everyone that you were hurt. But he stopped them instead."

"But this is Dash."

"That's surprising coming from you."

"What does that even mean? You guys and Valerie are being so weird today. Come on, Tucker. Back me up." Danny looks at Tucker, fully expecting him to be on Danny's side.

Tucker doesn't respond right away. Biting his thumbnail, he stares ahead at the floor, deep in thought. That alone is enough to send Danny for a loop. When Tucker does answer, Danny's jaw drops in disbelief.

"I'm with Sam on this."

"For real?"

"Yeah, man. We don't even know what Dash thinks he saw, anyway. What happened when he walked in?" Tucker asks.

Danny tells them, sparing no detail.

"Oh, wow."

Sam shakes her head. "I'll say. I can't believe you wailed at him."

"Almost. I almost wailed at him. It was a baby wail at most. More of a hum," Danny says. He was just so surprised when Dash walked in. Danny's instincts took over and all he could think about was getting Dash out of there as soon as possible. He is lucky no one else came running.

"That already will have freaked him out. If we go around making a big deal about it and getting in his face, that'll make things worse." Sam stands up from the floor, stretching her arms over her head. She looks completely unconcerned, so does Tucker for that matter. Both of them are content to let Dash be. "Let's wait to see what he does. If he starts spreading rumours, we'll know right away, and then we can confront him."

"On the other hand, he might go to you, Danny, first," Tucker adds. He takes a bottle of Aspirin from the first-aid kit and presses it into Danny's hand before zipping the bag up. "He might not do anything."

The bottle of Aspirin rattles as Danny twists the lid off. "I can't believe you guys are okay with this." He dumps a couple of pills into his palm and tosses them back. Wordlessly, Sam passes him a water bottle. One quick swig is all he needs to help the pills go down. "He could be telling everyone right now."

"He could," Sam admits. "But he won't."

Sam and Tucker get up to leave, and Danny's forced to follow, or else get left behind. He trails after them, stiff, sore, and aching. The pills won't kick in for a while, and he loathes having to walk now. If he could get away with it, he would spend the rest of the day floating through the halls.

Tragically, he has a secret to protect. One that is very much at risk right now, despite what Sam says. Wherever she and Tucker are getting their confidence from, Danny doesn't share it. He just hopes they're right.

Dash tries to hold it in. He really does. The sound of Danny's anger bearing down on him, reverberating through the change room, hasn't stopped rattling around his head. But as lunch nears its end, the words burst out of him.

"I think Fenton is in a gang or something," Dash says.

The table falls silent.

Kwan freezes in place, hand halfway to his mouth, and a piece of meatloaf falls off his fork. "You... what?"

"I think Danny is in a gang," Dash repeats, softer.

His friends gape at him, equally confused. Mostly. Star doesn't even look up from her math homework. In fact, Dash thinks she's smiling, but he ignores it.

"Kwan, I thought you said Danny was the one who got hit during gym class," Paulina says. She pushes her lunch aside and leans across the table, lifting a hand to Dash's forehead. "Are you sure you got it right?"

"I'm fine, Paulie." Dash ducks under his hand and hunkers low to the table. When no one else moves, he gestures for them to come closer. Kwan does so immediately. Paulina rolls her eyes but obliges.

"I'm good," Star says.

"Okay, so, I checked on Fenton after dropping him off, 'cause he looked kind of bad, and I guess, I don't know. I felt... whatever. It doesn't matter. But like, he had this huge cut."

Paulina grins and leans in closer, finally looking invested. "You felt kind of 'whatever?'"

Dash scowls. "Seriously, Paulie?"

"You're the one who said it!" Paulina smacks the table, a fit of giggles bursting from her. It's her "I've found some juicy gossip" noise and Dash hates it.

"Did you even hear me? Huge cut and all that?" Dash says.

Kwan shrugs. "I don't know. His parents build a lot of crazy stuff, don't they? He probably hurt himself on one of those. Did you see that new gun they were toting around last week? It melted Mr. Lancer's car!"

"Oh, my God. I totally saw that. I felt so bad for him," Paulina says.

Dash frowns down at the table while the conversation plods on. True, everyone knows the Fentons have some crazy inventions. But everything they make, they make to hurt ghosts, not people. Everyone in town has been caught in the Fentons crossfire at one point or another. Dash still remembers the disgusting taste of the Fenton Foamers. Like warm, month-old key lime yogurt. Disgusting, but ultimately harmless.

And Danny didn't just have a little cut. It was huge. Dash only got a brief look at it, but that short glance told him everything he needed to know. Something, or someone, had hurt Danny. Rather than going to the hospital—because no trained professional would do such a sloppy job—Danny fixed it himself or got his friends to fix it. The injury had to be new, too, since it was still bleeding.

But stitches could bleed if you ripped them, didn't treat the injury right. Judging by the placement, Danny's stitches must pull every time he moves his arm.

Could one of his parents' guns have done that?

Now that Dash thinks about it, he doesn’t remember ever seeing Danny get hit with his parents' weapons. Not their guns, at least. They have that dumb boomerang thing that he's seen smack Danny on the back of the head. Actually, that one hits Danny a lot.

Dash's frown deepens, etching into his face. Why on Earth would one of Danny's own parents' inventions hurt him so much? Unless...

"Hey, guys?" Dash asks, interrupting Star mid-sentence.

"You found more proof of Fenton's gang activities?" Paulina asks.

"What if, like, someone's hurting him?"

"You mean one of his gang buddies?"

"No, Paulie, I'm serious. What if someone is hurting him?"

The table falls silent once more, but this time, his friends' expressions are serious rather than disbelieving.

Kwan lowers his voice. "Do you really think... I mean, Fenton?"

"Well..." Star taps her chin. "Where was he hurt?"

"Here." Dash taps his ribs on his left side, under his arm.

Star nods. "Okay. Are you sure he couldn't have, you know...." She trails off, but Dash already knows what she means.

"No way. He could hardly see the cut, much less do it himself. And it was bad."

"So he was hurt, badly, in a place that no one else would normally see. He didn't miss any school, so he probably didn't go to the hospital. Was it recent?"

Dash nods. "There was blood. Too much to just be because of the stitches."

Star drums her fingers on the table, nodding slowly. "I think you could be right."

The A-listers glance around the table, meeting each other's eyes. None of them say anything, but the same question lurks in all their minds. Now what?

In the days following the change room debacle, Danny avoids Dash like his life depends on it. Which it might. Any time he sees Dash in the hall, he turns right around and walks away. When they're in class, Danny stares straight ahead and refuses to look Dash's way. In gym class, Tetslaff lets him sit out, finally. Having Danny blackout on her after she forced him to play must have spooked her because she benches him before he can even ask not to play.

"No student of mine is gonna pass out on my watch. Twice," she says.

It won't last forever, but Danny will take what he can get, while he can get it.

But the thing is, Dash doesn't try anything. It's surreal. For the past four years, Danny has grown accustomed to Dash's constant harassment. Even when it dropped significantly in sophomore year, Dash never stopped. He threw erasers at Danny during class, tripped him in the halls, called out teasing names every chance he got.

"I'm not the only one who thinks this is weird, right?" Danny asks Tucker on the third day.

Already done his lunch, Tucker is thoroughly engrossed by his phone and doesn't look up as he replies. "You think everything is weird lately."

"Because it is."

"Missing your quality time with Dash?" Tucker flashes a quick grin in Danny's direction before returning to his phone.

"Har, har. You are so funny." Danny would have to be some kind of masochist to miss Dash's badgering. It's just... strange, not to have to watch the halls for him in that way. It doesn't make Danny watch any less—in fact, he finds himself looking for Dash more than before. So that he can run away if he gets close. Except Dash isn't even trying, and that annoys the hell out of him.

Tucker sighs, finally putting down his phone, and rests a hand on Danny's head. "Such a hopeless young soul. Can't even understand your own heart."

Danny slaps the hand away. "Says the guy who asked out every girl in school because they all made him feel the same way because it turns out he's super ace and didn't actually feel anything for any of them."

"And what an emotional journey that was." Tucker faces Danny head-on. "Look, Danny. If it's bothering you that much, then go talk to him. Feed him some excuse about what happened. Just remember that there's a reason Sam and I think it will be okay."

Danny ponders Tucker's advice for the rest of the day. The weekend starts tomorrow, which gives him two whole Dash-free days to think about the situation. Maybe a little time to himself as what he needs. He goes for a flight after school rather than walking home with Tucker; being in the air always helps clear his head.

He soars far above the city until he is little more than a pinprick to everyone far below. At the peak of his flight, his phone rings. The caller ID shows it's Jazz.

"What's up?" he greets his sister.

"Taken over my room yet?" Jazz asks.

"When you've only been at college for a month? Of course." It made a great storage space. Danny turns over to float on his stomach and starts drifting down like a leaf, falling back and forth on the wind.

"Well, I'm gonna need it back this weekend."

"Dropping out already?"

"You wish. I got a tutoring gig: two sessions—Saturday and Sunday. I don't want to do the two hours there and back both days, so I'm coming home for the weekend."

"I can't believe someone is actually paying to spend time with you. Hope the loser doesn't rub off on them."

Jazz laughs. "Pretty sure any loser on my came from you. And it's four people. Actually, you know them."

When Danny comes downstairs Saturday morning and sees Jazz's students at the kitchen table, he stops dead.

"You have got to be kidding me," he says.

"Hi, Danny!" Paulina waves, far too perky for nine in the morning. Squished around the table with her, Kwan and Star offer their own small waves. Dash looks straight down at his textbook.

"Goodbye." Danny pivots and marches back toward the stairs. Forget breakfast; he didn't want to eat, anyway. He can still have a nice, relaxing, Dash-free day in the confines of his bedroom.

A cascade of whispers reaches his ears as he hits the first stair. The A-listers murmur too quiet for him to make out what they're saying, although he thinks he catches his name more than once. Maybe they're talking about how uncanny it is being inside his house. Or, perhaps, they're discussing the new school nurse, Tammy. But even as he thinks it, he knows neither theory is true.

A chair screeches in the kitchen, the plastic capped legs scraping against the linoleum. Danny throws himself up the stairs.

"Oh, Danny, wait!" Paulina's silky voice follows him.

He jerks to a stop at the landing, cringing. How mad would she be if he ignored her? It's funny to think that a few years ago his heart would have leapt at Paulina calling out his name, back when he had a crush on her.

His toes curl against the carpet as he hesitates; the pros and cons of ignoring her run through his head. Pro: he won't have to deal with whatever scheme she's up to, and Paulina is most certainly up to something. Con: she might sic Dash on him, and he's the last person Danny wants to see right now. But that's a moot point because Dash is already here. After some humming and hawing, he grits his teeth and turns back around.

Paulina hangs out the kitchen doorway, greeting him with a bright smile.

"Yes, Paulina?" Danny asks.

It should be physically impossible for her smile to get any wider, and yet it does. "You're having trouble in science class, right?"

Danny hesitates. "Maybe. Why?"

"So are we! We came here for a study session with your sister, since she was Casper's best student in thirty decades. You should join us!"

"Isn't Star acing all her classes? And I thought science was your best class."

Paulina rolls her eyes and huffs, but without any malice. It reminds him of the look Tucker gives his little cousins when they are being intentionally obstinate. Danny flushes, suddenly feeling stupid even though he doesn't understand why.

"Yeah, we're good at it, but the boys aren't. Duh." She says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it is. "It's easier to study in a group."

"Thanks, but no thanks. I like studying alone."

Paulina's smile doesn't fall, but it changes. Danny can't quite place what it turns into. Her mouth curves upward and her teeth are exposed; objectively, it's still a smile. But there's a new tension to it, one Danny only notices now, but he thinks might have been there the whole time, lurking behind the bright façade. His grip on the newel post tightens, the wood creaking beneath his finger.

At times like this, Danny wishes his ghost abilities included reading emotions. The look Paulina is giving him is important, he can feel it, even though he can't explain it. But it doesn't mean anything if he can't decipher it.

"If you say so." The moment shatters. Paulina withdraws back into the kitchen, leaving Danny alone and wondering if he missed something important.

Down the hall from him, Jazz's bedroom door opens. She emerges with an armful of books—old schoolbooks, Danny notes.

"Not hanging out with Sam and Tucker today?" she asks.

"Jazz, it's not even noon yet. I don't think Tucker's awake." Danny glances down the stairs toward the kitchen, mulling something over in his head. "I kind of want some alone time today. I know you're tutoring and everything, but could you make sure they don't bother me?"

Jazz frowns. "Is everything okay?"

"There was an... incident with Dash at school."

"Boy troubles?"

"Jazz!" Danny's entire face turns scarlet. "Please never say that about Dash." He lowers his voice. "It was ghost-related troubles."

Jazz's expression goes stony, her teasing smile replaced by a serious frown. "Do I need to take care of him for you?"

"Oh, my God, Jazz! Just keep him away from my room!" He marches the rest of the way to his room to the sound of Jazz's snickers and slams the door behind him.

When Paulina returns to the kitchen, Dash sits up straighter. She shakes her head as she reclaims her seat next to Star. Dash deflates again.

"I told you this wouldn't work," Dash says.

"Don't be so silly. That wasn't even plan A, although it would make things easier. Are you sure you didn't do anything to him in that change room?" Paulina asks.

Dash groans. "Please. Please never say anything like that again. It sounds so wrong."

"You're the one who took it that way."

Star and Kwan laugh at Dash's misfortune, watching him bury his face in his arms. When Star suggested they gather evidence, to confirm whether or not Danny was being abused at home, this wasn't what Dash expected. He pictured spy movie antics with them sneaking through the bushes dressed all in black, peeking through windows until they say something that proved—or disproved—their theory.

Things would go a lot easier if Dash could actually talk to Danny, but ever since that moment in the change room, he can't. He knows Danny has been avoiding him, which is better short term. If Danny walked up to Dash right now demanding to talk about what happened, Dash wouldn't know what to say.

How many times has he hurt Danny (pushed, kicked, body-checked) when he was injured? There's a possibility, however slim, that this was a fluke, the first time Danny has ever come to school injured. There have to be loads of reasons someone might not go to the hospital, such as bad insurance. Dash's cousin broke her nose once and let it heal crooked instead of going to the doctor since it was cheaper. He's heard stories of people sacrificing their health rather than paying exorbitant hospital fees. It's not impossible.

Except Danny's parents are inventors. They do projects for the government and can afford to throw money around for ridiculous ghost hunting contraptions. The Emergency Ops Centre only two floors above them must have cost millions. If that's the case, then surely his parents can afford a hospital visit for such a bad wound.

Dash doesn’t like to think about the alternative, but he has to. The alternative is the whole reason he and his friends are here.

That doesn't help with Dash's other dilemma, though. How is he supposed to talk to Fenton, now? Dash doesn't think he knows how to interact with Danny without some form of aggression. Even when he stopped outright bullying people, he never stopped with Danny. A push here, a shove there. It is instinct for Dash to stick his foot out if he sees Danny coming.

Danny even returns the favour, sometimes, growing bolder the older they became. Dash still doesn't know how Danny keeps getting into his stuffed bear collection, but it's not unusual for him to find one in his locker or sitting at his desk when he returns to class.

It's what they do. Dash can't help it. Any time he manages to trip Danny up enough that he gets a glare or a vengeful smile, it makes him feel good.

But he can't do that now. If Danny is actually getting hurt at home, Dash can't in his right mind keep agitating him. Just thinking about what he did to Danny's stitches makes him pale. He doesn't even want to think about what other wounds he's made worse over the years.

And he has. Dash knows this without a doubt. Thinking back on their interactions this year alone, more than five occasions come to mind where Danny grimaced, or flinched, or clutched some part of his body after Danny bumped his shoulder in the hall. It feels him with an indescribable dread, but the worst of it is he can't understand why.

He never knew Danny was injured; he can't be entirely to blame. Thinking that does nothing to assuage his guilt, though.

"Okay!" Jazz Fenton announces herself with a bright chirp. She clutches a stack of textbooks to her chest; books Dash recognizes from their classes. The idea that she stole them from the school flashes through his mind, but that's ludicrous. Jazz doesn't have a criminally minded bone in her body. If anything, she bought them, or the school gave them to her for being that amazing. Either option is more likely than her committing a crime.

Jazz slams the books down on the table directly across from Dash. She flashes him a brilliant smile as she sits and folds her hands over the table.

"So, Dash." She tilts her head. Her smile no longer looks kind. "I've heard some interesting things about you."

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#phic phight #phic phight 2021 #phanfic #phicc #dp fanfiction #danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #danny fenton #dash baxter #swagger bishie #danny/dash #deepwounds

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

I need something to vent read. If you are up for it could you write something with Sirius freaking out because of a slammed door, loud noises and raised voices? I feel like these things would be triggering to him because when he was living with Walburga (is that spelled correctly? I have no clue) and Orion all of those things meant something bad was going to happen. If you want it to not be as angsty you could add in Remus comforting him and reminding him that he is safe. Thank you! :)

Continuing the angsty vibes, folks! This was a really interesting prompt to tackle since Sirius is so repressed and I didn’t want to romanticize past abuse at all. Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for disappointed adults, guilt, past abuse (mentioned, not graphic), and a panic attack

Arthur was disappointed. Sirius hated it when Arthur was disappointed.

“I don’t even know what to say,” Arthur sighed after a moment, shaking his head. “If anyone has an explanation for that shitshow, I’d love to hear it.” A few beats of silence passed and he pressed his lips together. The guilt was eating Sirius alive. “We’re better than this. I know that, you know that, the Cup we won knows that. Do better next time.”

Be better, be better, be better. The words had been drilled into his mind since he was old enough to hold a stick and he swallowed around the dryness of his mouth. “Sorry, Coach,” James said quietly from his stall.

“I don’t need you to be sorry!” Arthur barked; Sirius’ stomach lurched. “I need you all to get your heads out of your asses and into the game! Tonight was a disgrace to everything you’ve worked hard to build. You know that, right?”

“Yes, Coach,” they muttered.

“What was that?”

“Yes, Coach,” they said again, louder.

Down the hall, a door slammed—Sirius knew it was just Moody closing up for the night, but latent fear lanced through him all the same and he gripped the edge of his seat. Deep breaths, Heather always told him. Breathing is the most important thing you can do to stay in control.

Control. He needed control. He thrived on control.

“Black!” Arthur’s voice was sharp and he winced. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Yes, Coach.” Sirius stood up.

“Then answer the question I just asked.”

Frantically, Sirius wracked his brain. Fuckfuckfuckfuck—nothing. He couldn’t think of anything. The alarm bells started to blare as Arthur walked to his stall, still holding onto his clipboard. “I’m sorry, Coach.”

He tapped the front of Sirius’ jersey. “Do you know why you have that badge?”

“Because—”

“Because you’re supposed to be a role model for this team. You hold them together and you lead well. I’ve seen you do it a million times.”

Finn raised his head. “Coach, this isn’t just on Cap—”

“Save it, O’Hara.” Arthur looked straight at Sirius; his eyes flickered from familiar blue to cold, furious silver faster than Sirius could register. He held his breath and prayed the hit would be light. “You disappointed me tonight, Sirius.”

There it was—the kill stroke. “I’m sorry,” he croaked around the knot in his throat. White-hot adrenaline began dripping into his veins and his breaths grew shallower. Hide it. Hide that weakness. It’s worse if you don’t. In his periphery, he saw Remus straighten up in concern.

“I don’t need your apologies.” Another door slammed. Sirius’ hands started to shake. He could smell the sickly-sweet perfume his mother loved. “I need you to step up and do your job.”

“I’m s—” Sirius bit his lip and choked the words down. Apologies never helped. He braced himself. Something crashed down the hallway and a jumble of voices echoed off the walls like wailing ghosts. The red and gold of the locker room became dark around the edges as his vision tunneled.

“You’re still not listening.” Arthur ran a hand through his hair. “Jesus Christ, no wonder everyone was off! I don’t talk just to hear the sound of my own voice, guys!”

“Coach, could you lower your voice a bit?” Pascal asked in an even tone, though Sirius felt his eyes on him. He kept his chin high.

“Pascal—” Arthur snapped his mouth shut and threw his clipboard down with a BANG that rattled all the way to Sirius’ core. He flinched back hard.

“Excuse me for a moment,” he said under his breath, wincing as his voice cracked. He shouldered past Arthur, feeling his chest tighten painfully on the way out.

Public bathrooms were the worst place to have a breakdown, but at least it was dark, empty, and cool enough to quell the raging heat in his head. He crumpled in the joint between a stall door and its wall, wrapping his arms around his knees.

“Come on, deep breaths,” he whispered to himself as salt tinged his lips. “Deep breaths, you can do this.”

If he squeezed his eyes shut hard enough, he could pretend that the trembling fingers combing through his hair were Remus’. That the weight against his side was Dumo, pulling him in for a hug.

“He didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean it.” Again and again, until his voice finally gave out into shuddering breaths.

The door creaked as it opened and Sirius held his breath, curling into a tighter ball. The lights did not turn on as soft footsteps padded on the tiles. “Sirius? Are you in here?”

His chest hitched and he leaned his head against the metal.

There was a gentle sigh and the footsteps stopped; two feet appeared in the gap. “Can you open the door, love?”

Sirius shook his head, not trusting his voice. A few seconds of silence passed.

“Alright.” Something rustled and the person sat crosslegged in front of the locked door. “What level are you at?”

“Six?” Sirius managed as more tears trickled down his cheeks.

Remus made a quiet noise of sympathy, then laid his hand palm-up on the floor. Sirius hesitated for a moment before lacing their fingers together—the comfort was instantaneous. He let out a wavering exhale as Remus covered his shaking hand with both of his own, tracing his knuckles and fingers with steady lines. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“You know what happened.”

“This seems pretty severe for some yelling.”

Sirius cracked a rueful smile in the darkness. “You know me too well.”

“I know you well enough to worry.”

He sniffled and wiped his nose with his sleeve. God, he’d kill a man for a shower. “People were slamming doors and somebody knocked a cart over. He’s—he’s so disappointed in me, Re.”

“He’s upset with all of us,” Remus said firmly. “Every game, no matter how shitty, is a team effort. It wasn’t fair of him to yell at you.”

“I’m the captain.”

“You’re a player. Players share blame. Arthur knows that, and he shouldn’t have gone after you like that.”

I’d rather it be me than you, Sirius didn’t say. “How’d you find me?”

He felt Remus shrug and saw his sweatshirt shift. “It’s where I would go. How are you feeling now?”

Sirius closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He was still a little dizzy and more than a bit exhausted, but the alarms in his head had quieted and he could make out actual shapes in the shadows instead of just blurs. “Maybe a three? Two and a half?”

“Can you unlock the door?” He leaned up with his free hand, never letting go of Remus; the stall door opened with a creak and he shifted to lean against his shoulder, snuggling into the soft warmth. “Hey, baby.”

“I hate that this still happens.”

“You’re working on it, though.” Remus pressed his lips to Sirius’ forehead and a little part of him unraveled into a puddle of affection. “That’s progress.”

He sniffled again and tucked his arms against Remus’ chest, toying with the drawstring of his hoodie. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” Remus said without hesitation, pulling him closer. The extra muscle he had put on made Sirius feel so safe, like he was in a cocoon of cuddly bliss. Nothing could touch him there. “Whenever you’re ready, Coach wanted to apologize. We can stay here as long as you want, though.”

“In a minute,” Sirius sighed, breathing in the familiar smell. “Let’s just stay here for a bit.”

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seijorhi · 4 years

Note

hello, i love your writing and was hoping if u could write a yandere kuroo x reader where he corners her in a corner and kenma is there and is getting off from it 😳 thank u !

Asdfghjkl this was supposed to be posted on Sunday I’m sorry, bby!! I hope it’s worth the wait! 💕 also, loved this request so thanks for sending it in 😊

Kuroo Tetsuro x Female Reader, Kenma Kozume x Female Reader

TW dub con, coercion (kinda?), stalking, humiliation

Helping Hand

There’s a certain peace you find in the looming stacks of the library after the sun sets. It’s quieter then, less people milling about. You don’t have to fight for space or books, and considering you have midterms soon and essays coming out of your ears, that makes it the perfect study environment.

It’s only a little after eight, the library’s still open for another two and a half hours, but on the fourth floor it’s almost a ghost town - just how you like it. There’s a professor tucked away in the back corner, piles of books built up around him, an older librarian with her trolley, slowly re-shelving books, and two other guys around your age sitting huddled at a table a few down from yours - the textbooks and highlights spread across their desk having been long since abandoned in favour of literally anything else.

Honestly, you’d wonder why they’d bother coming to the library at all if it wasn’t an almost daily occurrence. Most days you were there, so were they - usually together, although it wasn’t uncommon to see just one of them camped out between the stacks as you made your way to your desk. The duo, one tall and lean with a shock of messy dark hair that always looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, and the other smaller, more reserved, with bleached hair and dark roots in serious need of a touch up, seemed to prefer this time to study too - not that they ever seemed to actually do all that much studying.

Usually the blonde ends up absorbed in his switch while the other casually thumbs through whichever book is closest.

So long as they were quiet and didn’t disturb you, who were you to judge?

You don’t really remember when they’d started to appear, only that they’d quickly become a fixture in your refuge - distantly familiar presences like strangers travelling on the same bus to work each day. They smile (well, the dark haired one does) and nod whenever you happen to look up from your notes and catch their eye, and while you’ve only spoken a handful of words to the both of them, they always seemed nice.

Nicer than the clearly overworked professor muttering away in the corner at any rate, which makes them the logical choice to approach when you find your bladder uncomfortably full halfway through your self imposed study session. Realistically, you know at this time of the night nobody else is likely to make their way up to the fourth floor, much less have any interest in your shitty, old laptop or the five whole dollars in your wallet - yet you find you making your way over to the twosome’s table anyway, a faint blush dusting across your cheeks.

“… don’t want to,” you overhear the blonde mutter, his attention wholly focused upon the game in his hands. “Things are fine, why change that?”

His friend sighs, “Because you can deny it all you want, but I know you better than that. I know I’m not the only one who wants more. You can’t just sit back and…” he trails off suddenly, hazel eyes flickering over to you in surprise.

Confused by his friend’s sudden silence, the blonde lowers his game and glances up - only to still at the sight of you.

You swallow down your nerves, plastering what you hope is a friendly enough smile across your face, “Hi, uh… sorry to interrupt you guys, but would you mind watching my stuff for a few minutes while I go to the bathroom? I won’t be long or anything, I just don’t like leaving my stuff out in the open,” you say with a sheepish laugh, well aware that you’re rambling like an idiot.

It’s the dark haired one who answers, a wide grin breaking across his face as he nods, “Yeah, no worries. We’d be glad to.”

You smile back, ignoring the faint fluttering in your stomach (he does look kind of cute grinning like that), thanking him again before rushing away in the direction of the bathroom.

It doesn’t take long for your thoughts to drift away from the duo back to the essay you’re mid-way through drafting. You have a sinking feeling that the argument you’re trying to use in the fourth paragraph is essentially a just rehash of the point you made in the first. By the time you unlock the stall door and make your way over to the sink to wash your hands, you’re starting to debate the merits of scrapping the whole thing and starting fresh with new ideas.

You still technically have time, it’s not due until the end of the month, but you just kind of want it done so you don’t have to think about it anymore. Then again, that’s kind of your feelings towards the semester as a whole.

Who are you kidding? University’s kicking your ass this year.

The ancient hand dryer’s almost deafening as it clicks on - it masks the sound door swinging open and the footsteps that echo out from the tile floors.

It’s only when your eyes flicker up to mirror that you see that you’re no longer alone-

Standing right behind you is the guy from before; the tall, dark haired one.

- and jerk in surprise, stumbling backwards with a choked yelp.

It doesn’t hit you right away - no, that’s relief that has you drawing a hand over your chest and letting out a shaking laugh. “You scared the hell out of me!” you say, bracing yourself over the sink to try and calm your breathing.

No, it doesn’t hit you quickly. Realisation is slow - creeping through your veins like ice as your eyes flicker back up the mirror.

He hasn’t moved.

He’s smiling, grinning really, but there’s something… something off about it. It doesn’t quite meet his eyes… Why isn’t he saying anything?

W-why isn’t he moving away?

Your heart, still hammering from his shock of his sudden appearance, squeezes uncomfortably and your eyes slowly widen.

“Wh-”

A rough, calloused palm slaps across your mouth, smothering whatever words you’d been about to speak. “Ah, ah. Gotta keep it down, sweetheart.”

He winks at you in the mirror, taking a tiny step towards you and you squeak, breathing in sharp, shallow pants through your nose as a warm, muscled chest presses against your back. “You’re a nervous little thing, aren’tcha?” he chuckles. “Relax a little - promise I don’t bite.”

With one hand wrapped around your lips the other creeping across your waist, his words don’t exactly bring you a lot of comfort.

It makes no difference either way - you’re paralysed, shaking and trembling, but utterly unable to move as he noses at the column of your throat, his warm breath tickling your skin.

You could scream, but there’s no guarantee anybody would hear you. You could try and fight him off, but he’s taller than you, and you’re willing to bet stronger as well.

Will he hurt you if you try and resist?

Is he gonna hurt you anyway?

You’ve heard the stories before about men who follow women into empty bathrooms and the awful things they do, but you never...

Those things don’t happen in places like this. The library is supposed to be safe, he- he’s been-

Your stomach drops.

Weeks.

He’s been visiting the library with his friend, sitting across from you for weeks.

His eyes bore into your reflection in the mirror like he can hear every terrified thought that passes through your head, and with excruciating slowness you’re forced to watch as his lips brush a kiss against your cheek, lingering and sweet - a mockery of tenderness.

A scared little whimper is all you can manage, and even that is swallowed up by the sound of the bathroom door squeaking open once more.

Your heart skips a beat, eyes widening.

A faint burst of hope flickers to life.

You might not be a fighter, but this might be the only chance you have. You shriek again, the sound woefully muffled, and writhe against your captor’s tightening grip as slow footsteps round the corner.

Please, you think as tears stream silently down your face. Please help me.

What little hope you have is quickly - brutally - extinguished as your would be saviour steps into view.

Your legs shake and you’re almost positive that if it wasn’t for the strong arms wrapped around you, you would have crumpled to the floor.

It’s his friend, the blonde, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, watching the scene before him - you struggling against an iron grip, gagged and terrified - like it’s nothing out of the ordinary.

Your captor chuckles, relaxing his grip as his hand drifts upwards to palm at your breast and you want to die. “Glad you finally decided to grace us with your presence.”

“Shut up, Kuroo,” the blonde groans as he makes his way over, but he barely glances at his friend before his catlike eyes come to rest on you.

Your cheeks are burning, a potent mix of shame, nausea and dread churning in your stomach as you’re crudely felt up, but under the blonde’s attention you freeze.

While his face is a blank mask of apathetic disinterest, those golden irises are piercing in their intensity as they study you.

The glint in his eyes is as unmistakable as it is stark; anticipation - like a house cat watching a golden canary flit restlessly in its cage.

The hiccuping sob comes unbidden, choking at your throat as you wail against the palm at your lips. You’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your entire life, to slap yourself awake and realise that it’s nothing but a stress induced nightmare because this can’t be happening.

Why you?

What could you possibly have done to deserve this?

“Relax,” Kuroo repeats, leaning down over you again, “we’re not gonna hurt you. Just wanna have some fun, that’s all.” You think he’s going to try and kiss you again, but instead his tongue darts out and he licks at the silvery tear tracks, groaning softly.

You shoot the quiet blonde a desperate, pleading look. He hasn’t lifted a finger to stop what’s happening, hasn’t done anything other than stare at you, but even as his lips twitch into the faintest hint of a smile you hold out on the shadow of a prayer that maybe, just maybe-

Kuroo follows your wide, panicked gaze and almost snorts. “You’re barking up the wrong tree there, baby. Kenma’s not gonna help you. He wants this just as badly as I do.” His thumb slides across your cheek, brushing away more tears, “C’mon, on your knees.”

He doesn’t give you a choice - the hand on your shoulder forces your shaking knees to buckle and you fall down to the bathroom floor.

The tiles are cold against your bare legs, but the shivers that wrack through you have little to do with the temperature. It’s far too late to regret the short skirt you’d thrown on that morning.

Kuroo hums appreciatively, lifting his palm to tap it a few times against your cheek like you’re an adorable little puppy who’s just learned its first trick, “It’s a good look for you, baby, but I think it’d be even better without this-” his fingers tug at the collar of your top and his grin widens, “- in the way.”

Yet he makes no move to take it off for you. One look into his eyes, the glittering amusement darkened with lewd desire and you know that he won’t.

He wants you to do it, to play along in their fun - to be an active participant in your own humiliation.

And really, what other choice do you have?

It’s impossible to ignore the bulge straining against his jeans as your trembling fingers grip the hem of your top and reluctantly yank it upwards. There’s a sharp inhale - Kuroo you think - and a whistle as it comes off, baring your lacy bra and the soft skin underneath to their hungry gazes.

Only for a moment.

Staring resolutely at the floor you’re quick to try and cover what little modesty you have left, bringing your arms up to wrap around your chest-

Except a hand catches at your wrist and tugs it back, and when you glance up you find it’s Kenma’s.

“… Don’t,” he murmurs. “I want to see you.”

You let your arms drop, hands clenching into shaking fists in your lap, fingernails biting into your palm.

The sound of a zipper being pulled undone is almost deafening in the quiet bathroom. Fresh tears sting at your eyes, but you can’t bear to look at either of them as Kuroo reaches inside his pants and frees his cock.

The hand that cups your cheek is surprisingly gentle as he coaxes your face back towards him and the achingly hard member in his grip. “See Kenma, I told you - change ain’t always a bad thing.”

His dark eyes flicker back to you and he grins, “Open up, sweetheart.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere kuroo #yandere kuroo x reader #yandere kenma #yandere kenma x reader #yandere #yandere kuroo tetsuro #yandere kuroo tetsuro x reader #female reader #yandere kenma kozume #yandere kenma kozume x reader #kenma x reader #kuroo x reader #tw dub con #tw implied stalking #tw humiliation #kuroo x reader x kenma

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neverdoingmuch · 3 years

Note

How about a sweet Wangxian date night in?

The sun is setting as Wei Wuxian makes his way home. When he'd first left his office and started heading back, the sky had been cast in shades of pink and gold, gentle and pretty. By the time he's making his way up the narrow path to the Jingshi, the sun is little more than a slight sliver of burnt orange lining the tops of the surrounding mountains of Gusu and casting its hues on the pale flowers growing nearby. It's a beautiful sight and usually Wei Wuxian would stop and enjoy watching the last vestiges of the day fade away.

He likes the way he can settle himself at the base of a tree and watch as the skies slowly move from blues to gentle pastels to burning reds and then finally fading away to darkness as the stars come out with the moon. Wei Wuxian would sit there, even though he would see nothing but what tiny fragments of the night he's allowed to, and enjoy being able to just enjoy the world around him for the first time in what feels like twenty years. It never takes long for the chill to settle into his bones here in Cloud Recesses, but that never matters because it never takes long for Lan Zhan to come and find him. Despite bundling him in warm robes, Lan Zhan would always pull Wei Wuxian onto his lap and wrap his arms around him as they sit together until Wei Wuxian is ready to go home.

It's too late to do that tonight, the sun already all but gone and the first stars shining brightly. But, even if it wasn't, Wei Wuxian doesn't have enough time to sit and wait for his husband to come to him. He's already late.

So, Wei Wuxian rushes – he had been since he finished his duties for the day, but it's easier to walk in the more crowded areas of Cloud Recesses. Lan Zhan had made sure that no one would punish him for breaking the rules, but that never stopped anyone from lecturing him on setting a good example for the young disciples. As if children don't know what running is. Still, it's faster to just walk as quickly as he can and avoid the disapproval of the elders than it is to run. Lan Zhan, fortunately, lives far away from anyone else in his own beautiful piece of Cloud Recesses, so, once Wei Wuxian is far enough away from the main paths, he starts running as fast as he can.

Wei Wuxian knows the path home like the back of his hand, so the dark of night doesn't bother him much. He knows to duck the branch that the servants haven't got around to trimming back yet, and to jump over the small ditch where the water crosses the path in autumn. He's so settled in his own mind that the sound of the guqin almost makes him trip. Wei Wuxian pauses. It's not loud, but the sound carries out across the silence of the mountain, a melody that his heart beats to. Wei Wuxian smiles, to himself – for himself – and follows his song home. It's not lanterns, but it's something that Wei Wuxian prizes just as much.

As Wei Wuxian keeps running, the music becomes clearer and louder until he can see Lan Zhan sitting inside the Jingshi, his guqin across his lap and his eyes already meeting Wei Wuxian's. Wei Wuxian sprints across to him, coming to a halt so suddenly he all but skids; Wei Wuxian never sees the use in hiding how much he loves his husband. His shoes are thrown across the patio, and Wei Wuxian is quick to make his way to Lan Zhan's side.

Lan Zhan has already set aside his guqin and so, with a cursory glance to check for anything delicate, Wei Wuxian flops onto the floor in front of him. Lan Zhan immediately tugs on Wei Wuxian's robes and Wei Wuxian makes the mistake of looking up. Except it isn't a mistake, not really, not when he gets to see Lan Zhan, handsome and incredible Lan Zhan, peering down at him with so much tenderness in his eyes it honestly makes Wei Wuxian want to cry. Lan Zhan tugs at his robes again, an imperceptible smile across his lips, and Wei Wuxian obediently shuffles so his head rests in Lan Zhan's lap.

Immediately, Lan Zhan reaches out to carefully untie Wei Wuxian's ribbon. His hair flops loose onto the ground but, barely a moment later, Lan Zhan is gently scooping it up to place in his lap as well. Fingers start brushing through his hair, steady and strong, as Lan Zhan starts working out the knots that have made their home in his hair sometime during the day.

Wei Wuxian, who had been so prepared to whine about being late, is stunned to silence. It embarrasses him still, that it takes the slightest of touches, the littlest of effort, and the quietest of words from Lan Zhan to stop him in his tracks. The careful way Lan Zhan moves his fingers through his hair, pausing at each knot and freeing it so gently that it doesn't even tug at his scalp makes Wei Wuxian feel fragile and vulnerable in a way that he's only recently started learning to like.

It takes him long moments to piece his words together again, but Wei Wuxian has always been good at rolling with the punches, whatever they may be.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian whines.

“Hm?”

“Lan Zhan,” he says again, a plea for attention. He already has it of course, but old habits die hard and it's a fun game to play. “I'm late.”

“You are,” Lan Zhan agrees. “Did something happen?”

There's a quiet concern in his voice so Wei Wuxian quickly waves a dismissive hand. “No, no, I was just working on something for your uncle and I lost track of time.”

Lan Zhan doesn't say anything, but his shoulders loosen, just that little bit.

“But that's not what's important!” Wei Wuxian protests. “I was late and now our night is ruined!”

“Is it?”

Wei Wuxian nods enthusiastically. “I had plans! Wonderful, amazing plans that would have made you fall in love with me even more! But I'm tired now.”

He is, he really is, and it makes Wei Wuxian feel so old. It's been a long time since he's come home and felt the exhaustion of a good day's work and not the bone-deep exhaustion of responsibility. He's so used to swallowing down his anger and fear and keeping it close to his heart, clinging onto it like it's the only thing keeping him alive – it was the only thing that kept him alive for so long – and now he has an empty spot inside of him. It's vast and aching and Wei Wuxian thinks it will always be there, but he's filling it with something new. He's spending his days inventing and teaching and loving and being loved, and it's a different sort of tiredness he carries with him now. It's sore muscles and carefully tended gardens, cuts on hands and warm meals, aching wrists and research papers. It's home and it's wonderful and new and Wei Wuxian luxuriates in it.

He feels tired after a day of work and Wei Wuxian leans into it, embraces it and lets himself be lazy and relax. He doesn't have to ignore his pain and fear and feed himself to his own fury. Wei Wuxian is allowed to feel tired – he's allowed to be worn out after a day's work and not have to keep going. He's allowed to walk and sit and lie down and, while it's nice to run about, it's still nice to enjoy the slow and steady beat of his heart and the one that echoes it so closely. So, he tells his husband that he's tired even though he's spent most of his day talking to disciples and hunched over a desk.

“You look tired,” Lan Zhan tells him and a single finger traces the bags beneath his eyes.

“I am, I am,” Wei Wuxian chirps, then heaves out a massive sigh. “But I was really looking forward to going to Caiyi, and now the plans are ruined.”

Lan Zhan's fingers continue to stroke through his hair. The knots are probably all long gone, but his husband doesn't seem like he's going to stop and Wei Wuxian doesn't think he'll ever stop him.

“What were we going to do?” Lan Zhan asks him.

Wei Wuxian hums in thought even though he had the whole night planned out for over a week now.

“I was going to take you through the market and we would have bought so much food from the stalls. Like, way too much food. You'd have to carry me back up here when we finished I'd be that full. We would have gone to get your favourite steamed buns – you know with the tofu and mushrooms – and then we would have just enjoyed wandering around for a while. There's some new merchants from Yunmeng stopping by for the week, and Sizhui's birthday is coming up so I thought we could look for something for him. I also owe your brother a new inkwell.”

Wei Wuxian pauses, and patiently waits to see whether Lan Zhan has anything to add.

“Uncle needs more tea.”

“Yes, yes, he was complaining about that,” Wei Wuxian agrees, then continues, “Did you know that you could hire boats? Just to go out onto the lake?”

“Mn.”

“Well, I wanted to hire a boat – it would be just like when we were kids but we'd share this time! No worrying about me splashing you again, hm? I'd row us out into the middle … maybe? If my arms get sore will you row us the rest of the way out?” Lan Zhan nods, and Wei Wuxian beams at him before continuing, “ It's the best spot to watch the sun set, trust me. Very romantic! We'd get to eat our food there and just relax and enjoy the night. Then, because we're not strangers anymore, you might even hold my hand when I ask.”

Lan Zhan's hand slips down from where it had been stroking through his hair and grasps the back of Wei Wuxian's collar, just like he had when they were young and foolish. He tightens his grip until on it until it digs into the front of Wei Wuxian's throat slightly.

“Will I?” he asks lightly, and pulls, just a little bit.

Wei Wuxian gasps and lets out a whine. He's quick to nod his head.

Satisfied, Lan Zhan lets go of his collar and goes back to running his fingers through Wei Wuxian's hair.

“I will hold Wei Ying's hand whenever he wishes to.”

Wei Wuxian gapes at his husband.

“Unfair,” he wails. “My husband is so cruel to me.”

He's not sure whether Lan Zhan is being cruel by telling him such heartfelt words without warning or because he just did that to him, but it doesn't change the way that Wei Wuxian flusters. Averting his eyes, Wei Wuxian peers out the still open door of the Jingshi and sees that night has well and truly set now. When he dares a glance back at his husband, Lan Zhan still looks a bit victorious and proud.

“Ah, Lan Zhan,” he says quietly, “it's too late to go out now. Is it alright if we stay here tonight? We don't have to do anything special, do we? It's enough that it's the two of us, here and now.”

Lan Zhan carefully pulls Wei Wuxian upright, so that his chest rests against Wei Wuxian's back. Wei Wuxian leans into him, tilting his head back onto Lan Zhan's shoulder.

“Look,” Lan Zhan tells him.

He doesn't point but he does glance over across the room. Wei Wuxian follows his gaze and sees that upon their table lays a whole spread of food, familiar bowls of bright red interleaved with some of a more subdued colour. A pot of tea sits in the centre, steam rising quietly from its spout and a talisman attached on its side.

“You cooked dinner?”

Lan Zhan nods. “I knew you'd decide to stay in tonight.”

“Ahh, my husband knows me so well. How he shames me, to dare know my heart when even I don't.”

Lan Zhan nuzzles into his neck and quietly murmurs, “And yet my husband has the audacity to know mine.”

He presses a kiss to his neck and Wei Wuxian smiles.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, you're too charming. How will I manage to keep your heart when a single sentence spilt from your lovely lips is enough to make some fair maiden fall deeply in love with you?”

Wei Wuxian almost expects his husband to frown, as he so often does when Wei Wuxian mentions other women to him, but instead he feels Lan Zhan smile.

“Then,” his husband says carefully, “is it not good that we're staying at home tonight? Far away from any fair maidens?”

“Hmm,” Wei Wuxian pretends to muse. “And what about me? Aren't you worried about making this poor maiden fall for you?”

Lan Zhan bites him, hard and suddenly, and Wei Wuxian shrieks.

“What maiden?” Lan Zhan demands. “I only see my husband.”

“It's true, it's true, it's true,” Wei Wuxian hurriedly agrees, and a moment later Lan Zhan is laying a soft kiss where he'd just bit him. “Besides we've become so old now, I'm not sure the maidens would even want your attentions.”

He's teasing his husband, of course; Lan Zhan may be older than Wei Wuxian remembers him, the width of his shoulders and strong line of his jaw still taking Wei Wuxian off-guard in the early hours of the morning when he's still waking up, but he dearly loves the man his husband has become.

Lan Zhan doesn't look offended but Wei Wuxian still twists around until he can press a kiss against his jaw. “You'll always have my attention, even if you get boring and old.”

Wei Wuxian leans back into Lan Zhan's chest, and, as he's soaking up the warmth that seems to emanate off his husband with the fierceness of a furnace, realises something. It's a gentle dawning sensation, quiet and peaceful and inevitable.

“Look at us,” Wei Wuxian says. “We were once mighty cultivators, fighting terrifying monsters and ending wars, and here we are, enjoying quiet nights in and finding romance in cooking.”

Lan Zhan hums, sounding perfectly content. Wei Wuxian is too, but he keeps going anyway.

“One day we might not even want to go on night hunts anymore, have you thought about that? We'll just sit here and watch the sun set and teach disciples and be boring. We might end up like your uncle. Promise me you won't grow a beard, Lan Zhan, promise me? You'd look handsome with one but I'd never be able to kiss you again, not without thinking of your uncle.”

“We wouldn't want that,” Lan Zhan intones solemnly, but amusement dances in his eyes.

Wei Wuxian squawks. “Of course we wouldn't want that.”

Lan Zhan's laughter is silent, but Wei Wuxian feels the way his chest moves against his back and grins.

They let silence descend upon them, relaxing and serene. Wei Wuxian tugs at Lan Zhan's hand until he relinquishes it to him. He starts fiddling with it, tracing the lines across his palm and measuring the length of his fingers. He tests the way their hands fit together, fitting his fingers between his husband's. Lan Zhan tightens his grip, clasping Wei Ying's hand in his.

“Is it so bad?” Lan Zhan asks him suddenly.

“Huh?”

“Is it so bad to enjoy the peace? To enjoy growing older?”

Wei Wuxian lifts their joined hands up to press a kiss to the back of Lan Zhan's hand. Lifting his other hand, Lan Zhan tilts Wei Ying's face towards his and presses a tender but firm kiss upon his lips.

Wei Wuxian kisses back, then pulls away to tell him, “No, it's not bad at all.”

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sabraeal · 3 years

Text

We Seek That Which We Shall Not Find, Ch 8

[Read on AO3]

Written for @eveluboi for winning the Obiyuki Trope Madness 2021 betting kitty! I meant for this to be out way back in June, but it quickly slipped from a 4-5K projected fic to 7K 😂

Cold porcelain presses up against her palms, slick from where her fingers wrap around the sink’s edge. Shirayuki bows her head down, watching the water spiral down the drain, and breathes. In and out; in and out. If she hadn’t left her phone out on the table, she could look at one of those gifs she bookmarked; the one where the triangle becomes a decagon maybe, or where the star burst becomes a mandala. But she did, so instead she has to visualize it, counting out the shapes behind her eyelids.

It doesn’t work, but at least it’s something.

There’s something distinctly high school dance about hiding the the bathroom-- though in here, it’s impossible to just sit on the toilet and brace her legs against the door. Not that she needs to; unlike a bathroom stall, this door actually locks. A feature she’s sure has nothing to do with whatever the Wisterias plan to get up to in that Jacuzzi tub.

Shirayuki frankly refuses to speculate on what that might be. She still has to look Izana in the eye tonight, and the last thing she needs is to be thinking about him doing-- things in here, with people. Maybe he just has a compressed spine at the ripe old age of twenty-five, the kind that can’t be alleviated by anything less than eight massage jets.

In any case, this whole strategy of retreat isn’t really her style. Or at least, it hadn’t been, until...before. Which was a blip on an otherwise spotless record of confronting her problems head-on, with the sort of determined attitude Jaja fondly refers to as foolhardy, and Busha calls bull-headedness.

Her fingers grip the bowl firmly, levering herself up to stare into the mirror. She can do this. She can go right out there, sit down, and have Lynet reject this proposal. Because a normal person wouldn’t hide in the bathroom to avoid a fictional conflict.

Right. Shiaryuki drops her hands, giving her reflection a steely nod. It’s not like this is her first time turning down a boy; even if Shuuka throws her in a dungeon, he’ll still have taken her rejection better than the last one did, and that was a real live person. Not that Raj is much of a measuring stick for any kind of model behavior, but-- still. The point stands.

The door gives beneath the pressure of her hand, opening with a silence that’s confusing rather than comforting. Zen’s house might not be as old as hers, but it’s still not new; the apartment went up in the last five years, and its doors still hang crooked, screaming every time they move more than an inch. She can’t imagine Izana going around oiling hinges.

“Hey.” A hand catches her, strong fingers banding around her wrist. Pale ones, slender and well-trimmed; she traces them right up a crisp flannel to find Kiki frowning down at her. “I would give it a minute.”

Shirayuki blinks, and suddenly the world refocuses. It’s oddly silent in the basement, only the thin tumble of dice from the floor above. Obi’s either up to something or Beaumains is in trouble; she can’t even beging to guess which one would be worse.

And Kiki’s leaning here, right against the neutral paint, waiting for her. She shifts, casting a worried look toward the game room. “Is something--?”

Mitsuhide clears his throat; it echoes down the empty hall, a sound that fills the space like thunder overhead. Shirayuki bites back the impulse to count until next lightning strike; even though she knows it should be the other way around, that light travels faster than sound, but this--

“Is something wrong?” Zen drawls, sounding nothing like the boy who sits next to her in homeroom. No, sounding like this, he’s every inch Izana’s brother.

-- this is different. Bedwyr uses his words before he dares draw his blade, and it comes too naturally to be anything besides pure Mitsuhide, just like Beaumains’ quick tongue is the same one that wags in Obi’s mouth. He rumbles before the strike, and this one is destined to hit too close to home.

“Zen.” There’s something about how Mitsuhide wields a name; Shirayuki hardly knows him-- not as much as Zen and Kiki, anyway-- but when he says hers, it’s like having those giant arms cradling her tight against his chest, in a way that is less romantic and more like a tiny kitten living in a jacket pocket. When he says Obi’s, it’s a buzz, a burr, the sound before a siren wails, a warning that will never become a threat.

And when he says Zen’s right now, it’s a weight, a boulder to bear like Atlas shoulders the earth. It’s the moment before the punishment comes in the last act; the last temptation to turn the antagonist back onto the path of the righteous. “You should rethink your behavior tonight.”

“My behavior?” Zen squawks, chair clattering beneath him. “I haven’t even done anything.”

Mitsuhide’s silence speaks volumes.

“I haven’t,” Zen insists, though it’s weaker this time. “You’re the ones who are just letting Obi act like the rules don’t apply to him.”

“We are?”

“Well...” The pout sits sullenly on this tongue. “Izana is. And you guys aren’t doing anything about it either!”

Mitsuhide heaves a sigh that would make trees sway. Kiki’s fingers flex in sympathy against her shoulder. “I think you’re being a little unfair.”

“Unfair?” The word squeaks at the end of Zen’s range. “What’s unfair is that Izana invited that guy for the specific purpose of scaring Shirayuki off, and no one seems to care.”

Shirayuki only realizes she’s moved when Kiki’s grip holds her back, one foot still hovering over the floor, poised to make a very determined stomp. Words are welling up in her like ground water during a storm; a whole monologue that threatens to flood the basement of her common sense. The whole night comes back to her in inches; every slight, every complaint is magnified tenfold now that she knows it comes to this, and she--

“Give them a minute,” Kiki murmurs. “Sometimes Zen just needs a swift application of a boot to his ass.”

She blinks up at her, body vibrating with a need to do something. “And Mitsuhide will do that?”

A picture might be a thousand words, but somehow Kiki’s eyebrows could compose a novel. She lifts them a bare, dubious inch, and Shirayuki knows that chapter one starts with, and you think you’d do any better? “You’ll see. He’ll come around. Have a little faith.”

Bitter words lick up her throat, a carefully composed diatribe furiously scribed by her irritation. A list of all Zen’s petty squabbles, of all the times he’d tried to sideline her or sequester Obi ready to spill out, but--

But she swallows it down. Tonight’s tried her patience for sure, but it’d been Zen who leaned across the aisle in homeroom her first day. The one who’d stuck out a hand and said, you must be new. The one who had made sure she’d had somewhere to sit at lunch-- sure, Kihal had found her by then, adopting her like a baby bird fallen from a nest, but he’d swung by even though his wasn’t until next period.

That’s what’s so frustrating, to be honest-- she knows how good he can be. So the fact he’s choosing to act this way instead...

Her shoulders sag under the weight of Kiki’s hand. “I’m trying to.”

When Mitsuhide speaks again, it’s even, patient; she’d be tempted to say it was like a parent to a child, but there’s no condescension, no sense of speaking down but rather across. “That’s possible. But you’re still the only one acting hostile at this table.”

Zen’s huffs, indignant. “So you want me to just sit here and let them ruin Shirayuki’s experience?”

Kiki pushes past her with a parting pat, sauntering into the room. “How could they when you’re doing such a good job of it yourself?”

Shirayuki can’t see either of the boys, but she can see Kiki when she spins a chair around, dropping down to straddle it. “You may not have noticed, but it doesn’t look like Shirayuki minds Obi being here. At least, not as much as you do.”

“Kiki,” Mitsuhide sighs, a warning. “That’s enough.”

Kiki must not agree, since she leans in, smile sharp enough to cut glass. “Maybe you need to lighten up, brother dearest.”

Zen sucks in a hard breath, like he’s been hit. “Don’t--”

The door rattles at the top of the stairs, a muffled voice turning to a dry laugh as it opens. Her stomach lurches like that moment at the top of a coaster, looking down at the track below. It’s Obi.

Kiki is a flurry of motion; her chair flips beneath her, and she sits back down hard, feet kicking up onto the table. When Izana and Obi emerge from the stairway, it looks like she‘s been idling at a casual tilt for hours, not seconds, but still, still--

Izana lifts one elegantly arched eyebrow. No matter how cleverly they all compose themselves, he almost certainly knows every word that’s been said.

“You’re back?” Zen coughs, his words hobbling awkwardly, dragged down by guilt. Izana’s other eyebrow joins the first. “What happened?”

Obi drops into his seat, cradling chin in hand. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I would,” Zen snaps, irritation already rising. “That’s why I asked.”

“Oh, don’t worry--” Obi tosses him a wink designed to send him through the roof-- “you’ll find out.”

“I--”

“If there’s any other business, tell me now,” Izana says, taking his place at the head of the table. “Otherwise, you’ve slept through the night.”

Obi flutters his eyes, grin taking on a feral edge. “Well, you know I’m all taken care of, Majesty.”

“Anyone else?” Izana sighs, long suffering. His eyes flick out over the table, settling into a frown. “Does anyone know where Shirayuki is?”

“Bathroom,” Kiki offers too quick, gaze cutting over to where she hides in the hall, before darting back. The corner of Izana’s mouth pulls deeper, and his eyes lift--

“Ah, I’m here!” Shirayuki hurries out, slipping into her seat. When she looks up Zen’s watching her with wide eyes, gears clunking along behind them as he looks from her to the hall and back, doing the exact equations she was hoping he couldn’t. “Sorry.”

“It’s not a problem,” Izana assures her, keeping his eyes fixed to the screen in front of him. “Did you have anything you needed to do before the night is over?”

“Ah, um.” Her fingers stretch wide over Lynet’s sheet, tips gripping at the table. “Yes. One last thing.”

The stars are bright tonight, shining in the firmament like jewels in velvet. Ancient poets would invoke Diana at the sight, at the thousand heroes and maidens consigned to shine above for defying their fates. Older ones still would call upon Arianrhod, the silver wheel, mother of wind and skies alone, praising the complexity of her beauty.

But when you raise your eyes to heaven’s glorious vault, you see only kingly gift laid at your feet, unasked. And when you lower them, another waits for you in Shuuka’s smile, devastating and earnest.

“A fine night, is it not?” His breath mists in the air between you; a lucky thing, since it obscures your grimace. “In all Our Lord’s creation, a man could not find one finer than this.”

“It is a wonder,” you murmur, stirring the fur at your cloak’s collar. “But I have seen so little of this world that I hesitate to say that in a thousands nights there would not be one that could surpass it.”

His mouth spreads wider still, the pearl of his teeth glimmering in the moon’s light. You’ve pleased him, somehow. “You can only say that, my lady, since you are graced with your own presence every moment, and I have only these. For now.”

Your feet stutter beneath you; the leaves crunching makes him turn, brow raised in concern. “Shuuka...”

“Ah, yes. You wished to speak with me, did you not?” His boot heels clack against the cobbles, coming to perch on the raised bed beside you. He is not close, even still, but having his eyes level with yours makes this moment too intimate for you to keep him fixed in your vision. Instead you turn, leaving him looming at the corner of your eye. “I am your servant in all things, my lady. Speak.”

“My lord,” you begin, for politeness seems the only kindness you can extend to him, “I believe there has been some misunderstanding.”

His head tilts. “A misunderstanding?”

His voice is lower, a manly rumble instead of its usual reedy melody; a child playing at a man. A man he only wishes to become because it might make you happy.

You sigh, your gut tangling as easy as your fingers do above it. Were you any other woman but yourself, you would be pleased to have made a match as fine as this. Perhaps even mere months ago, you would have been comforted by the thought of marrying a man you had met before, even if he had been a silly, sobbing boy at the time. But now, as you are, you cannot care for this-- this life your father wished for you, with no thought to your own.

“About the state of the agreement between our fathers.” Your breath catches in your chest before you manage, “They are both gone.”

Shuuka peers at you with shining eyes, and oh, if only you could choose your words as gently as he deserved. But you know better; a man who wears a hard helm often keeps a harder head beneath it, and women’s words only penetrate such a barrier if they are drawn to a point.

“That I know,” he says, so soft. “And I am sorry for it. But we may yet do what they willed for our future.”

“That is not all,” you continue, each word stinging with guilt. “This understanding was dissolved long before either of them was brought back into the great shepherd’s fold. When my family fell upon misfortune...”

You had hoped it would be easier to speak of it, but the words stick to your teeth, refusing to leave the safety of your mouth. Shuuka reaches out, clasping his hand in yours with far too much understanding for what you wish to say.

“I am not proud of what my father did,” he tells you, sincerity ringing from his words, clear as a church bell. “Though I am certain he thought it would be for the best, at the time. He never pledged my troth to any other, and above any other woman he had entertained to be the Lady of Laxdo, it was of you he spoke most highly.”

“That is--” hard to believe. Not when you spent most of your betrothal dance trodding on his son’s toes-- “Kind of you to say. I know that you value the words of your father above all others--”

“My father’s esteem is exceeded only by that of the Lord in Heaven, may he ever sit at his right hand.” Pain hollows his eyes, so raw that even in health he gleams gaunt beneath the moon’s light. You have both lost your fathers, but this wound is fresh, bleeding still, and yours--

Well, yours sewed up just fine with a little needle and thread. How quickly a wound heals when you must see to it yourself.

“Would that I could talk to him,” Shuuka rasps, fingers clenching around stone. “But I trust that if he could see you now, he would see a daughter still.”

His grief burns brightly, a halo that surrounds him-- no, a shroud, the sort that might bury him beside his fathers bones if he did not take care. It is that which makes all this worse, which turns what you must do from a discomfort to a cruelty. But it is better yet than what it could be if you indulged him, if you let pity and kindness stand where only love should.

“Yes, I understand,” you murmur, gathering every last draught of courage. “But I must admit, my lord, that I do not hold my own father in such esteem. You are a kind man, Lord Shuuka, the sort any woman would count her blessings should she find you as her husband, but I...”

You flounder, the night pressing in thickly around you. What you wouldn’t give for crickets, if only to break the silence.

“Ah.” There is a wealth of hurt hidden in that breath. “But you mean to say that it shall not be you, Lady Lynet.”

“What?” Zen’s eyes blink wide, so bright, so blue across from her. “You’re turning him down?”

Shirayuki stares. “What do you mean?”

“He’s a lord, isn’t he?” It’s a strange thing to ask, especially when they just spent the last week and change-- well, four hours really-- at his castle, but here was Zen, looking toward Izana like he needed clarification. “Wouldn’t Lynet, you know...?”

“Um.” Even with a sweep of Zen’s wrist and the emphatic lift of his eyebrows, Shirayuki still can’t see how that sentence might finish itself. “No, I don’t.”

It’s quiet enough to hear a pin drop, so when Obi lets out a hiccup, isn’t not exactly inconspicuous. She glances over at him, and from the way his mouth twitches at the corners, she’s hardly the first. “Is something...?”

Wrong, she means to say, but Obi gives a single solid shiver and collapses onto the table, head buried in his arms.

There’s a breath where her fingers go numb on the table, where her heart beat practically deafens her as it pound in her ears. She’s not here in the room, she’s out in the yard, a wrinkled arm reaching out to her, and all she can think about is where her phone is, whether she can reach it from here--

“My, my.” Izana’s drawl rattles her back to the table, gaze skittering over Zen’s forbidding glare, the clasped hand over Kiki’s mouth, Mitsuhide’s wide-eyes-- “Isn’t that an interesting question. Now just what does make Lord Shuuka such an attractive partner?”

Obi lifts his head, still trembling, but it’s not some medical event. Oh no, he’s just-- just laughing. Shirayuki catches her breath, holds it, and thinks of a triangle becoming a decagon.

Nothing is wrong. Everyone is safe. Healthy.

“W-well.” Zen’s voice creaks from the reach she suspects he’s about to make. “He has ah, hmm...”

“Large tracts of land?” Obi offers, so helpful.

Zen hands stiffen where he holds them out in front of him. “I wasn’t going to say that.”

His brows give a wiggle. “Looks like it.”

“I--”

“Castle Perilous already has land,” Shirayuki interjects, hoping the tremble hasn’t reached her voice. “Plenty of it.”

Obi leans back in his chair with a grin. “Castle Perilous has everything! Large tracts of lands, at least two level or dungeons, an ominous name...”

She flicks him a flat look. “My point is, Lynet doesn’t need a manor to maintain-- she already left that to save her sister. She has a quest, she doesn’t need--” she waves her hands, steady now-- “romance.”

Obi’s brow ticks up, just the tiniest bit.

“I mean, not with a man she’s only known a week,” she blurts out, feeling heat simmering beneath her collar, licking at her ears. “Why would I be playing D&D if I just wanted to-- to marry Lynet off to the first guy she saw?”

Zen’s mouth fall slack, eyes glued to his character sheet. “Huh.”

“Gee,” Kiki drawls, “all that production for nothing.”

“Shut--”

“If we’re all quite done?” Izana suggests pointedly. “I believe Lady Lynet is not quite done breaking her beau’s heart. Also--” those pale eyes cut toward her, eyebrow quirked pedantically-- “it’s Pathfinder, by the way.”

Kiki lets out a huff. “It’s the same thing.”

With exaggerated care, Izana nudges her character on the map. “It’s really not.”

You take Shuuka’s hands in your own; they’re soft, callused on the mounts like Arturius’. A swordsman’s hands, though not a warrior’s. He flushes beneath your touch, and you wonder if he is bothered by the rough touch of your own, marred by scrapes and scars, so unlike a lady’s that you might as well be a different country. That is what your father had called you once: a different country, the fondness thick in his voice.

That had been before. He had been a different man. You had been a different Lynet. A time you would long for, if you thought it might make any difference at all.

“I have my own path I must tread, my lord,” you murmur, “one that cannot be turned aside for my own comfort.”

He nods, head heavy. “I see. You too have your own quest of honor, like His Grace. A glory that only you can seek.”

“If only it were for glory--” your fingers stiffen in his hold, teeth gritting down on the troubles that long to pass through them-- “instead of to right the wrongs that have been done.”

His brows lift, and you do not imagine the offer in his eyes, the one that says you would only need to breathe the word, and he would raise his own blade in your honor. “To you?”

Your tongue would tie itself in knots if it could. “Among many.”

“I understand.” His hand squeezes yours so gently, as if you were a thing that could break, a glass woman cradled in his palms. That is a thing these lords do not understand; glass may be delicate once blown thread-thin, but it is first forged in fire, born at a temperature that would char flesh. “Perhaps, though, when you are done...”

It feels cruel to reject him, a man that loves the lady you could have been, but it is crueler still to give him hope where there is little to spare.

“Perhaps,” you say, stilted. It is too mild an answer for the passion in his eyes, but you learned long ago that fate’s whims could not be foreseen by any mortal heart. “But please, my lord. Do not wait for me.”

“It will be hard not to, my lady, for a woman like you is not easily found. However--” he lets out a raw chuckle-- “I do know what love sounds like when I hear it, and it...does not warm your voice when we speak.”

“I...”

Shuuka holds up one hand, chagrined, the other still wrapped in yours. “You owe me no explanation. I only mean to wish you well.”

He lifts your hand to his lips, laying a soft kiss to its back. “May God go with you, my lady. I pray you will not forget your loyal servant in your trials.”

“I...will not,” you breathe, wishing you might be the girl that could love this man. You cannot, you cannot, but oh, how much easier your road would be if you did. “Thank you.”

“Well,” Mitsuhide hums, smile hung awkwardly. “He seems nice!”

Zen nods, pink looming just under the apples of his cheeks. “A good, ah, potential ally.”

Shirayuki stares.

“You two,” Kiki starts, every syllable so overflowing with derision they practically leak, “are ridiculous.”

Obi looks fit to bursting as well-- at least, if the state of his twitching mouth is anything to go by-- but before he can get one word in edgewise, Izana clears his throat.

“Now that this little interlude is complete,” he drawls, casting a wary glance over the table. “I expect that we can move on?”

“No, wait, I’m sorry!” Shirayuki bursts out breathlessly. “Just--” she glances at Obi, squirming under the question in his eyes-- “just one more thing. I promise.”

Izana settles back in his chair, brows raised. “Oh no, by all means. Color me...” His mouth curves into a smirk that would cause a cleverer woman to reconsider. “...Intrigued.”

Your neck aches; beneath your veil, your hair lies heavy on your scalp, pinned and tied to within an inch of its life. There is no more of it than usual, you are sure, but it weighs on you now, a fetter meant to hobble your steps. A shackle meant to drag you down, to halt your progress forward. Perhaps that is always what it was meant to be.

A proper lady would not remove her covering until she was safely ensconced in her chambers; such manners had been pressed upon you since your first courses, first by your nurse and then again by your father. Modesty was a woman’s shield, and you clung to it then as if it could protect you, afraid of what might happen to you without it. No, afraid of who you might be.

But you are no fine lady, not by anything but birth. Such trappings were ripped from your hands, and now--

Now you are Lynet, alchemist and arcanist, and you keep nothing that will not serve you. Your fingers wedge beneath the fine linen, pins falling to your feet as you work them free. Everything about Laxdo may squeeze you, trying to fit you back in the mold your father made, but you will not, not ever again.

It may have been years since you last stepped in Laxdo’s halls, but this past week has made it something like a home, your feet carrying you with ease through the twisting corridors. A different answer but a moment ago and these would have been yours, your home in truth, but to stay here, to forget the power that you tamed with your own two hands and become nothing more than Shuuka’s wife--

It’s unthinkable. A life not meant for you. Though your sister would like it fine enough.

Your feet stutter beneath you, breath caught tight in your chest. Who are you to say what she would want, when you--

You shake yourself. This guilt won’t serve either, not if you let it hold you in place. Your gaze lifts, and finally you see where your industrious feet have brought you: Beaumains’ door.

It was inevitable that they would; your own chamber is on the same hall, mere steps away. But you had not meant to come here, to linger, save that-- that you had, for he has been on your mind since he delivered you to the dais, since Arturius had him sent from it to the revelry below. His voice has thrummed beneath your veins since you looked across the hall and saw him missing from the tables below, your mind turning over every word he spoke this night to see if his disappearance is merely a missing piece to a puzzle you have already solved. But no solutions have appeared before you, and now--

Now you stand here, head bare at his threshold, wondering whether you will be welcome.

You hand raises, hesitating above the grain. You could leave now, and no one would ever know. But if you did, if you simply left with no word, and found him gone on the morrow...

You knock twice. Then thrice. There is not a whisper from the other side of the door. You know better than to assume that means there is no man, not such a one as Beaumains.

“Beaumains,” you murmur, palm pressed flat against the wood. “Beaumains, if you are there...”

Your lips press to a thin line. You had not planned this, planned any of it, and your words will not come. You do not even know which ones you speak if they would.

Your forehead rests against the door, the ridges of its grain digging into your skin. “If you are there, I am here.”

There is no answer but silence.

“Goodnight,” you say finally. “I will...” You hesitate, breath catching in your chest. “I will see you on the morrow.”

Izana, at least, is happy to move on.

“If you have spells to prepare,” he offers graciously, “you may do so now, before we start the morning.”

Kiki raises an imperious brow. “I take it we’ll be doing combat, then?”

With a beatific smile, Izana informs her, “You may prepare for any eventuality you see fit.”

“Yeah.” Zen sighs, flipping to his spell list. “Combat.”

Shirayuki shuffles through her index cards, chewing on her cheek. Next to her Obi has affected a casual slouch, arm thrown haphazardly over his chair back and legs stretching well onto Zen’s side of the table. He doesn’t seem stressed, not like how she feels sitting in the splash zone of of their high stakes game of I’m Not Touching You during this fantasy field trip.

Her phone slides into her hand easier than it ever has, thumb sliding surreptitiously across the keyboard. Are you okay?

Her teeth grit down as soon as it’s sent, regret bitter on her tongue. It’s a stupid thing to ask; a feeling that grows when she watches him work his phone out of his pocket, eyebrows lifting as he reads.

His mouth curls into a satisfied smirk. peachy keen

Are you sure? Shirayuki peeks up from her cards, casting a subtle glance toward the end of the table. Izana’s bowed behind the screen, pen gracefully curving over page-- notes. He’s taking notes. I wanted to make sure Zen isn’t scaring you off.

lol impossible

A breath hisses out her nose, fingers tightening around the case. Leave it to Obi to make this into a joke. He’s really not a bad guy, I promise. I don’t know why he’s choosing to act like one.

A smothered noise hiccups out beside her, too loud in the room’s silence. Four heads bob up, three blond and one brown, and Obi smooths the noise out into a cough, a gentle clearing of his throat.

“Dorito,” he says with a tight wheeze, mouth twitching. “Musta gone down the wrong pipe.”

“Ah,” Izana hums, his eyes narrowing. “Of course.”

Zen, however, frowns. “We have Doritos?”

Obi’s mouth stretches into a smile. “You did.”

“How--?”

“Are we done with preparations, then?” Izana asks smoothly, settling back in his chair. “Should we continue...?”

“Ah, no!” Zen grimaces, ducking his head. “Just-- another minute.”

i got a good idea, Obi texts once. heads are down. but don worry im not going newere His teeth flash as he sends, jus had 2 take care f s/t

She glances up, and his grin is there to greet her, only growing wider when he reads the question in her eyes.

“Don’t worry, my lady,” he murmurs, shifting close enough for the words to ghost over her cheek. “Trust me.”

You wake to hue and cry, to chaos in the halls. A lord’s daughter might lay abed still, waiting for her maids to fetch her, but you were the Lady of Castle Perilous; when Morgaine comes to fetch you, you are already dressed, tucking the last tresses of red beneath your coif. She blinks, those midnight-dark eyes going wide before her expression settles into something far more grim, something more resigned than surprise.

“Beaumains isn’t in his chamber,” she tells you, no cushion in her words, only the bruising impact of the truth. “We suspect he never made it back to it.”

Your breath catches in your chest, struggling against its cage. “That can’t be true. Last night I...”

Spoke to his door, with not a single sign of him within.

“When the maid came to tend his hearth this morning, his cot was undisturbed and the fire burnt down to embers.” Morgaine fixes you with a steady gaze, braced as a man about to take a blow. “We mean to look for him.”

You snatch your cloak from where it hangs, winding it about your shoulders. “Then let us go. If he has been taken, then--”

“I suspect he has been taken by naught by stupidity, the same as any man,” the princess grouses, falling into step beside you as you hurry down the steps to the yard. “My brother wounded his pride, and he sought to restore it. Or at least commit some feat to let it scab cleanly.”

It rankles how much each word rings true. You had no brothers at Castle Perilous, but men you had in spades, and every one fool enough to put himself in mortal peril to salve his pride. “Let us hope you are wrong?”

Morgaine lets out a rasping laugh. “You prefer him to be in the hands of the enemy, then?”

“Rather than his own stupidity?” you ask, breathless, waiting for the yard’s door to open. “Always.”

When they do, your heart stops, stuttering right up into your throat.

“Alas.” The word hisses through Morgaine’s smile. “You are destined to be disappointed.”

Beaumains sits in the yard, perched merrily atop a cart drawn into the middle of it. You cannot, from this angle, divine what it is filled with, only that it is solid enough to hold him and his ego. Temper climbs up your neck, as choking as any ivy; to think, you worried about his heart enough to trouble your own, and now he sits here as if naught but a moment has passed from the night into the evening, as if this were but yet another day he spent in your company.

Oh, how you could climb that cart yourself to give him a piece of your mind. You do not-- would not, before all these men of Laxdo-- but the temptation lashes yours soles as thoroughly as any devil.

“Beaumains.” Arturius marches forth from the crowd, wrath crackling in the air as he walks. “What is the meaning of this? We awake to you missing, and now--?”

“So I heard.” His smile shines in the morning sun, just as brightly as his horns. “I was here, of course. Waiting.”

The Prince of the Angles flushes crimson, the whole of his frame shaking. “Then why would you not--?”

“For a lark.” His teeth flash; fitting since he wields his words like a blade. “Though I did leave last night. You see, something bothered me, and not just your manners.”

“Demon--”

“Devil,” Beaumains corrects, as fastidious as any tutor. “And you see, all this celebrating, it didn’t make sense. Not when we hadn’t solved who cursed our friend here.”

He holds one dark, clawed hand out to where Shuuka stands, gaping. “Me? But I thought--?”

“You know as well as any that we have been searching tirelessly,” Arturius snaps, temper well and truly frayed. “And now you come to mock us for it? Is it a fight you ask for? Is that what you desire? For I am happy to give it to you, if you do not--”

“I want no fight,” Beaumains scoffs. “I want results. And so...”

With a desultory kick, the back of the cart falls open, and out of it--

Ah, and out of it pours forth a mound of bodies.

“And so,” he continues with relish, “I got some.”

“You can’t do that,” Zen murmurs, but it’s not in anger. No, that’s shock that slackens his jaw, and with the number of tokens Obi just dropped on the map, it’s working on Shirayuki too. “That’s not-- he can’t do that, can he?”

“He just did,” Izana replies, somehow both weary and amused at the same time.

“But...” Zen stares at them, more than a dozen tokens sprawled over the grid. “How.”

Obi grins. “Skill.”

Izana casts him a dark, yet exhausted, glance. “He rolled very, very well.”

Shuuka skirts nearer, his face pale with shock. “Those are the men who sold us firewood. The very same you pulled from our hearths.”

“That they are.” Beaumains sits back on the cart; now that you can see inside it you see his seat is not a crate, as you had assumed, but two bodies stacked atop each other, the blood drying around their mouths and necks. “Or at least that’s what I was hoping, Master, since otherwise I’d have made a mortifying mistake indeed.”

Arturius has not moved, instead staring down at the hand that laid at his feet, at the twisted grimace the deceased’s face has twisted into. “You did this alone? With no other man to help you?”

“I surely did,” the devil sing-songs, his grin honing to a point. “Could you find me such a one, daring enough to help on a night so dark as the last?”

The prince’s jaw sets hard as granite, but his eyes belie his sternness, shining with heady mix of admiration and something that savors strongly of jealousy. “Well,” he grits out, shoulders jerking towards his ears. “I cannot fault you your skill, devil, but now there is no chance of us learning how or why this deed came to be done.”

Beaumains scoffs, enjoying every moment he sits above the Prince of all the Angles. “Have a little faith, O Master Mine. Before they met the fates they bought with their cursed coin, I asked them what man or beast compelled them to act. And they told me--” his eyes flash with triumph-- “a man in red.”

There is no chance for you to stifle your gasp, not when you see that armor shining before you, crimson in candlelight. Not when even now, that spiked gauntlet reaches toward you--

“Lynet?” Morgaine’s grasp brings you back to yourself, to the moment you inhabit. “Are you well?”

“Fine, fine,” you assure her. “It is only--”

That you may know who this enemy of Laxdo is. That you yourself have come to see him vanquished, but yet--

You cannot speak of it. Not even if you wished.

“You may thank me at your leisure, sirrah,” Beaumain crows, getting to his feet. Even now your stomach roils as you look, the blood nothing more than a black sheen on his boots. “I am ever at your--” he leaps, landing on the ground before Arturius’s gaze. “At your service.”

And with a singular, extravagant bow, Beaumains tips face first into the cobbles.

“Wait.” Shirayuki blinks down at the toppled figure, resting on a spray of tokens, right next to a white-painted 1. “What just happened?”

“Beaumains--” Izana’s mouth twitches at a corner-- “had but a single hit point left.”

Long fingers pluck the die from its resting place among the bodies, as if quick reflexes could keep them all from seeing the rock Obi just dropped. He glowers down at it-- all black and golden and glimmering, just like him-- and shoves it back into his bag. “And glass ankles, apparently.”

A low, heady laugh rolls across the table, Kiki kicking up her feet with a smirk. “This is why we invest in CON.”

Obi scoffs. “Please, I made it out with HP to spare.”

“Yeah,” she says, “one.”

“Well,” he grumbles, “it was enough, wasn’t it?”

You stoop to where Beaumains sits, propped up by the stable’s post and Bedwyr’s shoulder, hand raised to heal--

“Please.” Bedwyr’s impressive hand gently guides yours away, his smile tight and concerned. “You must save your strength, my lady.”

“I just awoke, sir,” you remind him, mouth pulled into an irritated line. “I am as fresh as I shall ever be.”

The knight cants his head, though you know him too well to believe he might fully acquiesce to you. “I know that well enough. But it is your talent we will need, should any challenges arise before day’s end. And this is entirely within my--”

“No, no.” Beaumains stirs at his side, eyes sliding open to relieve the unrelenting shadow of his face. “Let the pretty lady lay her hands on me, paladin. Her touch is far softer than yours.”

Ah, it would have been best for him not to say such things before the whole of Castle Laxdo. Or at least, not in front of its lord. The weight of his gaze already presses heavy on your back, growing only more weighty as Beaumains sears a bleary line up you with his gaze.

He’s far to gone to keep it steady; already it wanders, tracing Bedwyr’s lines as well, and--

“Wait, no, never mind,” he slurs, squinting up at that giant of a man. “You’ll do too, sir, if you’re so eager to put your hand--”

Bedwyr presses a palm to the center of Beaumain’s forehead, and with an authority you know can only come from the Lord in Heaven, he intones, “SLEEP.”

“You know, big guy,” Obi drawls, grin already stretching from ear to ear. “I’m pretty sure paladins don’t get those spells. And fighters definitely don’t.”

Mitsuhide glances up from his sheet, straight at Izana.

He smirks. “I’ll allow it.”

Beaumains sleeps the slumber of the ensorcelled. That is, complete and utterly quiet.

Bedwyr peered down, and with a nod of his head, declares, “That’s much better.”

#obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #dungeons & dragons au #my fic #ans #listen i know i said ONE chapter until the end of this arc #but like #TECHNCIALLY next chapter is gonna be the OOC wrap up for this arc #the session is complete though!#fans of this fic may REJOICE #you have two updated planned over the next two months too #Ch 9 is already in progress #and provided it does not grow out of proportion...should be complete by mid-september #and there's another update planned for late october that should hopefully kick off next arc #and perhaps...a POV CHANGE >:3c

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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years

Text

Genji Heavy Industries (Part 7) The Elevator Shaft

I’m such a dork. I have Snake Eater stuck in my head now.

You’d scarcely gotten ten feet from the bottom of the elevator shaft when a flickering light came from above. The light sparkled like a roman candle and for a brief second you can see into the cavernous elevator shaft.

What was revealed chills your heart.

The orange light illuminated layers of scales. The steel framing deep in the elevator shaft was crawling with sphinxes just like the ones you fought in the basement. They wrapped their long tails around the steel beams and climbed with their monstrous claws. They moved like apes, snakes and spiders. It is impossible to count the number of them, maybe dozens or maybe hundreds. There were also several elevators that were still operational. The metal cars go up and down, brushing past groups of beasts at very close distances. The elevators that are still running at such times are inevitably packed with people - humans covered in cold sweat from panic, sweat mixed with hormones and adrenaline, perhaps mixed with traces of blood. The smell mixed together and formed a drug-like stimulus for the sphinxes. They rubbed their sharp claws against the cars as they passed by, not having figured out how to rip open the tin can and eat the meat inside.

The people in the elevator must have heard the eerie scraping and the sound of something breathing heavily outside the car. They screamed in shrill alarm. They had no way to escape.

You were only equipped with the pistol and armor piercing rounds. There was no way you could save all these people yourself. Just like the time in Black Swan Bay when facing such an overwhelming force, the best chance for survival was to hide or flee. But there was no way to hide in the elevator shaft, and there was nowhere to go. These people were dead meat.

You climb high enough to get to the next basement floor. It was marked in Blue paint with the letters B12. The doors were sealed shut. You tried to force open the doors by squeezing your fingers in between them but they were closed tightly and refused to budge. That was probably for the best. The only people in danger at the moment were the ones in the elevators. If the doors were sealed during the earthquake, it was unlikely that many - if any- of the monsters had escaped into the building.

But someone had thrown that flare - you recognized it as a flare - into the shaft. Which meant at least one elevator door was open. It was very high up, but not at the very top of the building, about midway, near to where you had initially boarded your elevator to hell.

You climb with carefully measured steps so as not to make a sound. The shaft you were in had an elevator that was smashed at the bottom of the shaft so it should not be nearly as attractive as the ones with moving trains. You count one step per second, twenty seconds per floor, three floors a minute.

It would take you about seven minutes to get to the floor where the flare was thrown.

As a way to pass and count the time, you sing to yourself, softly in your mind. It was one of the movies you watched, secretly in the shed, the light glittering on your face under the drop cloth that covered the stacks of firewood. The woman’s voice came through soft and smooth and seductive. You remember it so clearly.

Hey baby…

Thought you were the one who tried to run away…

Oh baby…

Wasn’t I the one who made you want to stay?

Please don’t bet that you’ll ever escape me

Once I get my sights on you.

I got a licence to kill…

Your mental tune was suddenly interrupted. The sphinxes were moving and they were moving all at once in such numbers that you had to cling to the elevator shaft as it shook and vibrated with the combined tons of muscular bodies thundering overhead. Their screams and howls were like a storm of demons that combined with the wailing of the trapped people in the elevator cars in a devil’s chorus.

You were halfway up to where the flare had been thrown. A glittering shadow rushed by you and you catch sight of his long fangs. It was literally smiling ear-to-ear since the cross section of its mouth stretched nearly to the back of its head. The powerful tail struck you in the back. Panting heavily, it didn’t seem to notice you in its haste to get up the shaft. You duck your head against the saliva that rained down on you.

In that moment, your body shook from the deafening roar of a machine gun and in the next few seconds you were showered, not with saliva but with hundreds of shell casings! It was Caesar and Chu Zihang, it had to be. You were right in assuming they weren't going to run away.

Looking up, the light from the gun’s muzzle flash revealed a heaving ball of bodies, writhing in a single mass where you were trying to go.

A great wind pulled your hair. One of the massive creatures fell very close to you. It hit the side of the shaft and continued to fall into the void, ping-ponging as it went..

“Shit!”

You press yourself against the elevator shaft and climb as quickly as you could, now jumping rungs and scrambling in a panic. In seconds, you’re covered in blood and gore. Bodies plummeting felt like cars passing by, missing you by mere inches, bristling with razorblade claws as they spin in a freefall. The buzzing sound of bullets whizzed by you. The walls ran with blood like a waterfall and your fingers were starting to slip.

All it would take was one bullet to strike you and you’d be dead. You’d prefer it that way. Your world would just go dark and you would lose all sensation and you would fall into Hell for real. Worst case scenario you would slip on the blood and fall, your voice joining the chorus of deathly terror one last time.

You’re now in the thick of it, bodies were jostling you and bumping into you with crushing force. But you could see him, Caesar, standing on a cross beam behind a Gatling gun. His ears were covered and he was wearing eye protection as if he was just on a trip to the gun range for daily practice. You were covered in gore. He wouldn’t be able to tell you apart from the massive swarm. And he couldn’t hear you scream.

You pull your pistol and fire once.

The flash of the muzzle and the bullet pinging off his gun got his attention. His jaw dropped and he stared as though looking at a ghost. But then his jaw clenched. A rain of bullets came again, this time directed at the face of the monster that had opened its mouth wide enough to devour your head in a single snap.

Caesar reached his hand down to you but you’re too far. “FIRE! GIVE ME COVER FIRE!”

He leaped down to dangle by one arm, coming well within range of the beasts’ searching claws. You reached for each other, your fingertips brushing, desperation reflected in your eyes.

“Jump!”

You let go of the rung and jump. His hand snaps around your wrist like a vice. His powerful arm lifts you up on the crossbeam.

But there was no time to celebrate or embrace.

The storm of metal slugs killed the joy of this Devil’s banquet. The rushing front of the group have been shot, but most of the others are only wounded. Their snake-like body is exceptionally strong. The bullets splash a little fire on the scales, a few bullets lodge in the hard bones. Dozens of huge mouths in the elevator shaft opened to the limit, and issued a shrill cry to you and the others above.

It was actually a roar of rage. Unlike the corpse guards, whose sensory nerves had been killed in the embalming process and whose broken limbs were just like getting a haircut, the sphinxes could still feel some of the pain. The pain was not enough to make them retreat, but rather to inspire their ferocity.

Caesar retook firm control of the Gatling heavy machine gun, pouring a storm of metal down below. You two weren't the only ones up here. Chu Zihang was firing an Uzi and Chisei Gen was there, dressed in period armor and shooting as well. Your pistol wasn’t enough to kill these creatures unless you shot them in the eye. You even blew half the head off one with C4 and it fought ferociously despite grievous injury. Finally, you get entrusted with a gun and it's useless!

The guns quieted slightly as everyone reloaded. "This isn’t enough to kill them effectively! We're just stalling for time!" Caesar yelled.

He was right. The monsters had retreated but were learning to hide behind beams and dash out when the group reloaded. They were pushed down eight or nice floors, but were regaining that ground quickly.

Chisei looked like he was about to toss an empty gun down the shaft but you catch it and start shoving bullets into it. He nodded to you and kept firing with a second weapon. Had another Hydra member been here he would have fallen off the beam in shock. Chisei did not give commendation to just anyone. Only rare shows of bravery and demonstrations of undeniable competence earned nods like that. Chisei had seen you crawl out of Hell only to immediately assist the team. He couldn’t help but nod.

He didn’t know you, but in a few seconds you’d proven to belong among the Cassell Aces.

Since he didn’t have to focus on reloading, Chisei began to scan his dark eyes around the space. You then see the whites around his black pupils. “Look out!” He drew his sword in a shining arc and cut above you.

Black blood showered down and a sphinx’s body fell down the shaft from above. They were moving away from the gunfire to surround you, attacking from below and above! The wounded creature was about to fall into the elevator shaft, but it turned in the air and swept its long, steel-like tail at Caesar. Caesar leaned back and dodged. The long tail knocked the Gatling heavy machine gun off the beam. With the snake tail wrapped around the heavy machine gun, it fell into the elevator shaft with it.

The dark shadows fell continuously from their elevated position, and there were more coming.

Chisei Gen walks along the steel beam with the grace of a stag, swinging his sword to force back the sphinxes and deny them a chance to find a foothold. Caesar drew his Desert Eagle and sent the mercury core rounds into the bodies of the sphinxes one by one. The bullets, developed for dragons, were so effective against them that those who were shot fell with a cry.

You take the hint, raising your pistol with the mercury rounds and firing into them, aiming for their beaming golden eyes. You don’t waste a single shot, extinguishing those glowing orbs, like blowing out a candle with a bullet. The one-eyed corpses fall limp around you.

The steel beams above and below and to the left and right were occupied by monsters, black and red blood splattered between the beams, the black blood was the Dead Sphinxes', the red blood was Chisei’s. The Sphinx who had sneaked in from above had cut into his back.

Chu Zihang pulled out the Uzi from his waist, wanting to help Caesar and Chisei clear the monsters around him first, but he looked down and the cold air rushed by his head from behind. In the dozens of seconds without the barrage blocking the swarm below, they’d dashed upward, with the closest ones less than twenty meters away from them. Their crying converged into an eerie wave of sound tumbling through the elevator shaft. You must block this wave of attack, or your defense line will completely collapse.

Chu Zihang violently knocked over the carry bag hanging in front of him. Thousands of bullets fell like brass-colored rain. He threw another item into the elevator shaft, a piece of C4 plastic explosive stuffed with an electronic fuse. He had another carry bag beside him, which was stuffed with even more plastic explosives!

The explosive fell twenty meters and exploded, the air wave and fire compressed within the confines of the elevator shaft and could only spread upward or downward. You watch the beautiful sight of fire-colored clouds rising from the deep shaft. All the bullets exploded simultaneously in the blaze. Thousands of missiles bounced in the elevator shaft at high speed. The serpentine black shadows were engulfed by the rain of bullets and fire, and those bullets fired in a disorderly manner whizz by you, barely missing. But Caesar actually yelled "good".

Caesar's two-handed Desert Eagle fired in unison at a sphinx that was hissing with his mouth open. It was so close to Caesar that the fire from the muzzle and the last mercury core bullet penetrated its mouth. The mercury destroyed its brain. This one fell into the darkness with a mournful cry. To your right, Gen Chisei also stabbed another through the heart.

Black blood clung to his body and flowed slowly as all four of you fell silent.

You had the advantage of weapons and terrain, but probably no more than fifteen Death Servitor Sphinxes had actually been killed. The explosion didn't kill these dangerous creatures either, and they continued to climb up with their long tails wrapped around the steel frame after plunging a few levels, covered in blood. The human side had lost its most important weapon, the Gatling heavy machine gun.

The positions on the steel beams could no longer be held. Caesar gathered you in a powerful hug and together you jumped into the building. You’re a room that’s filled with huge murals, Torii gates and curtains like an ancient temple. Fire was serving as the light to his place, eating up the walls and the curtains in a rapidly progressing blaze. Caesar set you down and, together with Chisei, pushed a heavy iron wheel shrine to block the elevator door.

Chu Zihang rushed out from a room that was filled to the brim with weapons and he threw a submachine gun and magazines at you. Without a word you load up. Everyone knows that this is just a delay. Soon these beasts will charge into this temple in the middle of Genji Heavy Industries to enjoy the feast.

Even if they don't rush in you’re still going to die. The fire is still burning, although there are not too many flammable things here, sooner or later the fire will go out. The burning will soon consume the oxygen in the air and you will suffocate.

Wordlessly, you finish taking in the situation. Dying here doesn’t bother you too much. After all, you figured that sooner or later your luck would run out. What hurts your heart is that Lu Mingfei is not here. You hoped he wasn’t dead, or trapped in an elevator. You hoped he got out. But all you could see was his panic and concern as he rushed around with his box of documents and your hope died.

#Dragon Raja

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7wanderingpaws · 4 years

Text

Simply, yours (7) (M)

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Genre: family AU, hapkido teacher AU, PhD AU

Word count: 3.9K

Warnings: mature content, language, tiny bit of violence

A/N: Alright! BAEKHYUN SNAPPED! Its happening all now! And there is mature content! I never ever wrote this type of content before, so... it might be just bad and cringey. I apologize if it is too bad, I need to challenge myself in this one more haha! I always enjoy feedback so dont hesitate to reach out! <3 if you want to be tagged/untagged please let me know 💕 I am thankful for you all, who read this story!

Tag: @milky-baek @itsbaekhyunsbutt

MASTERLIST

PARTS: 1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7

“Hm, this dinner thing,” Sukyeong started, tapping her index finger on her chin as she was thinking, staring at the email sent by the HR office. You looked at her expectantly, your mind not exactly present because you were thinking about something completely else. However, guessing she would have a serious question for you, you made sure to pay attention, until she blurted: “What will you wear?”

Hehe, you thought skeptically, something that is not hugging my body TOO MUCH. “Dunno,” you dismissed, waving your hand and turning back to your computer screen and back to drowning in your worries. Your cup of freshly brewed tea was still next to your mouse, waiting for it to be sipped, but you had little to no appetite that morning. “We received the email literally minutes ago, Sukyeong. I don't even know what will happen today in the evening.”

Your stomach had been flipping ever since you woke up and Baekhyun's morning kisses didn't soothe any of your nerves.

Sneaking a glance at Sukyeong, who was still deep in thought about what to wear for the upcoming event on Friday, you were desperately trying to figure out if you could tell her your worries. And also, let her know that way about your pregnancy. Would she run her mouth before you would get to speak to your boss?

She definitely wouldn't go against you, that you could state for sure.

Your stomach made yet another flip. Once you felt sweat starting to prickle down your neck, you knew immediately it was one of those mornings. Quickly jumping up, you were fast like lightning, swallowing on a dry throat as you tried to suppress your gag reflex.

Soon enough, you were over the toilet, emptying every single thing that went into your stomach yesterday (and it seemed like all the previous years, given how severe your gagging was). Flushing the toilet with you trembly hand, you took a rest for a bit on the floor, thankful for dressing up warmer (plus a big hoodie to hide your front) that day. The winter was fast approaching, and you couldn't have been more thankful. More reason to wear thicker clothes.

You were still breathing heavily when someone entered the toilets with hasty steps. You heard your name being called out, recognizing the voice as Sukyeong's.

“Are you in here?”

You swallowed, ignoring the familiar pain of your raw throat. “Yeah, I'm in here.”

“Are you okay?”

Closing your eyes for a moment, you felt the tightness of your skin from the dried up tears. One breath, two breaths. Scrambling back to your legs, you opened the door of the stall, meeting a worried face of your kind co-worker. She was surprised to see your pale face and you spotted your phone in her hand. You frowned.

“Your phone kept vibrating; Baekhyun was looking for you and you weren't showing up for a while,” she said quickly and stepped closer to you. “Are you okay? Did you eat something bad last night?”

You shook your head, your heart jumping painfully at the mention of the father of the children you were bearing and complicating your life. Without realising, your chin quivered dangerously and you took in a shaky breath, diamond-shaped tears rolling down your pale cheeks. “I'm pregnant, Sukyeong.”

There, it was finally out.

“Oh goodness, I knew it! I so knew it!” she squealed, jumping slightly before hugging you. “Oh wait, drink some water,” she said and grabbed a little paper cup, filling it with filtered water on the corridor. She came back and you quickly swallowed, refreshing your burning insides.

“But I have a huge issue,” you continued, wiping your cheeks.

Only now she seemed to realize that you were crying for real. Crying, because something serious was happening. She didn't hesitate when she replied: “What is it? I will help you.”

“That piece of shit… he really made you promise him that? What a fucking TRASH!!!”

“I think the best would be if you tell him after dinner. He should be in a good mood. He might not kick you out.”

“We need to figure out what you can wear to hide the belly. It's not big yet, but still!”

“Oh my gosh, you are already this much in? Let me touch youuu!”

Sukyeong's endless support eased up your troubled mind. You were able to be much more relaxed and currently, you and Baekhyun were waiting for her to show up at your apartment to help you “fix the clothes” - you said that to the unsuspecting, innocent face of Byun Baekhyun.

“You look so good in jeans,” you mumbled appreciatively when Baekhyun emerged from the bathroom in nothing but dark-blue jeans, black underwear poking out, his hair wet, and a towel around his neck.

Wow. Being pregnant and swooning over your loved one hit differently.

Your breath hitched in your throat. “It's supposed to be a family-friendly dinner. You can't go like this, young man!”

He laughed loudly as he walked lazily to you, your eyes still trained on his toned stomach. Damn. “Hey, beauty,” he whispered once he was standing right in front of you, your face now looking up at him. “Let me clean up that drool on your chin.” Smirking like a total flirt that he was, he leaned in and he poked out his tongue, running it up your chin before he pushed it into your mouth, your silent gasp only encouraging him more. His hold on your cheek was gentle, feather-like whilst his kiss was dirty; the exact opposite. You didn't need to be told twice.

Grabbing him by the neck, you pushed him towards you, his body now pressed up against you and your small belly, a delicious moean leaving your mouth when he wrapped his other hand around the low of your back, squeezing you.

“You are so sensitive to my touches. I really like you like this,” he whispered into your panting mouth. You opened your eyes just a little bit; his kiss made you lose your senses for a second.

“Aching, throwing up, gaining weight, all of it?” you murmured as you stroked his cheek.

His eyes were wild, yet so affectionate. “All of it,” he confirmed as he leaned back in to steal another kiss.

“Wait,” you quickly said and pecked him on the lips as an apology. He gave you a curious look. “I think…” you trailed off, too shy to say what was on your mind, “that I shouldn't be kissing you. Also, you shouldn't walk like this here anymore. The more pregnant I am, the more…” gulp, “I want from you,” you said so quietly, Baekhyun unconsciously leaned in with his ear by your mouth.

He chuckled and bit his lower lip. “You mean you are more horny?”

You nodded, blush creeping up your cheeks. “I don't think you can imagine what I have in mind.”

“Oh, I think I do know.”

You shook your head but he continued: “My sweetest sweetheart,” he murmured and he made it a point to press his hips into yours as much as possible, given the belly was growing to be quite the restriction between you two. “I put three babies into you,” he murmured in your ear, his words and hot breath sending electric shocks into your southern parts. “Don't think I can't live up to your horny expectations. Nor do think I am not craving you every single fucking day. Because I do,” he sighed and pressed a wet kiss on the side of your neck. “You just look irresistible, and when you're naked… fuck,” his voice trembled, and his hand was already under your shirt, exploring, cupping, caressing, making you a moaning mess. Your head fell backwards in ecstasy and he sucked on the exposed skin on your collarbones. “So if you want three rounds,” he said and straightened up a bit to give you a lustful look, “I will give you three rounds. Each round for one baby.”

You were fast to throw yourself at him, kissing him desperately, needing him to satisfy the ache that only he was able to. The towel he had around his neck fell, his wet hair very slightly dripping still.

Thankfully, you were in the bedroom already. Gently placing you on the bed, Baekhyun crawled up and above you, while his hands were pushing up his shirt you were wearing since you couldn't stand anything that would restrict your movements). Your hands were fumbling with his jeans, but Baekhyun was faster and took them off along with his underwear while you pulled the shirt over your head, and discarded the panties. Bra was also something you wore as little as possible, your breasts being achy and growing, a bra was very uncomfortable. You had yet to go to some markets to get bigger sized bras for a cheaper price.

Baekhyun was back at your lips right away, his fingertips teasingly making their way down the side of your body, starting from your breasts, to the hips all the way to your butt before he hooked his arms under on knee. His other hand wandered off to the parts you needed him the most, by then practically begging him to just move on.

“Oh, wow,” he breathed, awed, “so no foreplay needed anymore, hm?” he purred, as he felt you dripping.

“Please,” you wailed, and he enjoyed himself way too much for your liking. “I will get seriously hurt if you keep the teasing up.”

That made him pay attention to you. “What? Is something hurting? What-”

You raised your head and laughed into his scared face before you put the knee he was holding around his waist, followed with your other leg and pressed him into you, the pressure building up. “I will hurt, if you won't do something,” you breathed loudly.

“Don't scare me like that,” he chastised, frowning momentarily as he brought his hand up to your cheek, into which you leaned in. Eventually, his features softened, and he whispered: “I will take care of you, mummy.”

You were so surprised at the word, you could barely gasp when he finally entered you, his forehead pressed to yours, your hand interlaced with his. He wanted to give you time, worries about hurting you or the babies forever present in his mind, but he barely made it inside and you were begging for more. He would lie if he would have said he didn't like it.

“You're so hot,” he rasped, hiding his face in your neck.

“And you're too slow.”

He laughed into your skin, biting you. “Impatience doesn't take you anywhere.”

You met his hips eagerly and you held his face, your eyes fluttering close. “Exactly. So work,” you said, letting out another wanton moan when he did as you wished. He would do anything you wanted him to, because you were pretty much his everything.

He brought you over the edge sooner than later, helping you ride out the ecstasy as if his dangerous kisses earlier didn't already cast a spell on you. He followed you soon, but you were nowhere near finished.

Before he had time to get back to his senses, you bit his shoulder teasingly, humming. “Darling, again.”

You meant it when you said your horny self was different from your usual one, and Baekhyun was definitely up for a ride except-

There was a knock on your door, followed by a doorbell.

Both of you froze, still panting loudly, still very much high on the quick love you just made.

“It's-”

“Sukyeong,” you finished, cursing before Baekhyun gave you a pointed look, still not moving from your naked body.

“No cursing with babies-”

“Baekhyun!” you said, “you need to move!”

“But the next round-”

You let out a loud laugh before giving him a loud peck. “If there is anyone frustrated, it's me, trust me,” you said as he slowly fell next to you and you sat up, seeing the mess you just made.

He reached to the floor next to the mattress handing you tissues.

Murmuring a thanks, you quickly wiped yourself up and put back the wrinkled shirt that was discarded so carelessly before.

Standing up, you felt a bit sore which made you sit back for a minute just when another loud knock sounded. Few seconds later, your phone was ringing. “Coming!” you shouted. You phone stopped ringing.

Baekhyun chuckled from behind you, still lying there, now covered with the bed sheets. “You look like you have been properly fuc-”

“Don't. Say. It,” you murmured.

He laughed and sat up, kissing the little piece of skin that was not covered on your shoulder. “Hurting?”

You nodded and turned your head to see him, still very needy but thankfully, you weren't as frustrated as you thought you would have been.

“Sorry, should have been a bit gentler,” he murmured, nuzzling your neck.

You snorted. “Are you really sorry though?” you asked, and when you saw his mischievous smile, you got the answer. Pecking him quickly, he leaned into you, attempting to prolong the kiss. “I really have to open the door,” you sighed, “once were are back from the company dinner tonight, you are all mine, you hear me?”

He stared into your eyes for a while, soft smile playing on his lips. “I love you.” His hand was caressing your belly from behind.

You felt like you could burst from happiness. “I love you, too.”

One hour later and you were standing in front of the mirror with baggy dress on that Sukyeong got from her older sister who used it during her pregnancy. The dress made you… a bit huge.

“You should wear a long sweater too, hm?” she said, as she took the mentioned piece and circled it around you, placing it on your shoulders. “It should be big enough to divert the attention from your belly,” she murmured in a low voice, knowing that Baekhyun was in the tiny apartment and had no clue about your sneaky plan of hiding your stomach.

You gulped and looked yourself over in the mirror. “It's good enough,” you managed to say.

“You look cute!” chuckled Sukyeong, covering her mouth.

“Is Chen coming sa well?” Baekhyun appeared at the door.

“He is! He will meet us at the restaurant since he is busy,” she replied with a smile, looking at your boyfriend. He nodded when his eyes looked you over for the first time. You weren't sure if you expected any reaction from him but what he gave you was not what you… expected.

“Nice dress,” he murmured, the slightest of frowns knitting his eyebrows together. “I thought you are wearing one of your other dresses.”

Sukyeong looked at me, little panic bubbling in her big eyes.

“Well, you know how I don't like anything that is hugging my body anymore,” you replied truthfully, meeting his gaze bravely. His lazy posture leaning against the doorframe, eyes raking up your body… ah, ah, he was too hot for you. Why were you this horny?!

“It diverts the attention from the bruise that you gave her!” snapped Sukyeong playfully.

You blushed while Baekhyun looked more than proud. “Oh please, I will hide it with makeup,” you said quickly, “but anyway, how did you ever know that I am pregnant?” you asked and then looked at Baekhyun to clarify: “She followed me to the toilet couple of days ago when I threw up at work and she just said she knew I was pregnant!” you exclaimed with a shocked smile.

Baekhyun raised his eyebrows, curious.

“Please!” Sukyeong waved her hand. “I could smell baby all over you! I noticed your boobs and your morning sickness,” she giggled. “You know, woman's sense. But wow, you are actually expecting three babies... “

You stepped to Baekhyun, hiding your face in his chest out of embarrassment, while he laughed, caressing your back. “So if you noticed, it means others had to notice,” you mumbled but quickly realised you shouldn't go to those waters. Straightening back up, you checked the clock: “We should really finish getting ready! We will be late!”

The dinner was taking place at a very posh restaurant. You almost felt out of place in your huge, baggy dress and sweater. Well, at least you lived up to the fact that you were a penniless mother-to-be.

Hands intertwined with Baekhyun's under the table, your boss was on your left at the head of the long table that was filled with colleagues from your department while Sukyeong was opposite you with Chen right next to her. Everyone was in a pleasant conversation except you, because you were your boss's direct assistant and if he didn't talk, you definitely didn't feel like talking.

Baekhyun raised his fork to your mouth to try the meat with sauce and you smiled up at him, gratefully chewing on the tender meat. He winked at you, satisfied when he saw you eating well. You just prayed he wouldn't say something related to your state, because then it would be… very bad.

“Oh, so cute,” cooed you boss from your other side and it made you snap your eyes to him. He didn't sound so genuine. “Aren't you two sweet. Does your boyfriend always treat you this well?” he asked, looking at you expectantly.

You exchanged quick looks with Sukyeong who smiled at your reassuringly. “Yes, always.”

“And you don't want to marry this man?” he asked, laughing.

You froze for a moment and you felt Baekhyun did, too. Feeling the nerves bubbling up in your stomach, suddenly it was churning in anxiety.

“I can't get her to say yes, sir,” replied Baekhyun simply, chuckling to ease up the situation.

You gasped, widening your eyes at your boyfriend. “When did you ever ask?”

Your boss shrugged, amused. “As long as it does not keep her away from her work.”

You bit your lip hoping Baekhyun didn't hear the remark, but when you saw him giving your boss a deadly look, you knew things were turning the wrong way.

You felt another strong pull in your stomach, and you just knew it was coming. Blood was draining from your face and you stood up slowly, trying not to cause a ruckus. Baekhyun gave you a questioning look laced with worry, and you simply whispered: “Toilet.”

He nodded once, and held your hand until he had to let go.

Once you knew you are out of sight, you took off, running quickly to the bathroom, barely making it into the stall, before the entire dinner came out. Since you just ate, you couldn't stop throwing up, retching sounds along with crampings of your stomach making it impossible to even sit down.

You flushed, heaving out a breath as you attempted to sit down before nausea overtook you again, making you gag and crawl back to the bowl. “Shit! Make it stop,” you whined quietly, tears streaming down your face as you tried to calm down.

“So, are you really not thinking of marrying any time soon?” spoke your boss to Baekhyun.

“Well, right in this instant we aren't,” he said slowly, not liking an inch the tone your boss was using, “but given our situation, we should do it as soon as it would be possible, right?”

Your boss gave him a surprised look and Baekhyun failed to notice the panic in Sukyeong's eyes when she sensed the direction of the conversation. “What situation?”

Baekhyun blinked once before smiling gently at the thought. “Well, we are expecting three next spring.”

Silence took over your part of the table. Sukyeong abruptly stood up, startling Chen and rushing to search for you, while your boss glared at Baekhyun. “Expecting three? You mean my personal assistant is pregnant?”

Baekhyun, unsure, nodded. “Yes. She is 14 weeks in.”

“What?” he snapped, startling everyone around the table.

Baekhyun frowned but didn't have time to respond, because your boss was looking at someone behind you, angry veins on his neck.

“Baekhyun,” you hissed, but it was too late. Trying not to faint right in front of everyone, you took your boyfriend by his hand but he stood up right away once he saw your pale face.

“You threw up again?” he asked quietly not happy seeing you like that.

Sukyeong nodded eagerly in reply.

“This is probably the last time we are seeing each other,” you heard your boss from the table, and your chin quivered. Baekhyun and Sukyeong both glared at him. “Since you signed the contract promising not to get impregnated but you obviously couldn't do even that!” he spit. “I knew you would be trouble!” he shouted, standing up and coming close to you. Baekhyun was fast to stand in front of you, storm clouding his eyes while Sukyeong gasped, squeezing your hand.

“Move, Mr Byun,” snapped you boss. “I need to talk to my personal assistant.”

You gulped, your throat still painful from throwing up. But Baekhyun wasn't moving an inch. “You talk to my girlfriend under my supervision only,” he said, his tone deep in warning. “Do not dare talk to her that way.”

“I hope you know that you don't need to be polite with me anymore,” retorted your boss and sent daggers your way. “Young people really can't keep it in their pants these days. Having kids without marriage? Disgusting! But even worse? You are useless and pregnant.”

You squealed when Baekhyun landed a painful punch straight into your boss's face. You grabbed your boyfriend by his arm, trying to stop him. “Wait, Baekhyun, you know you cannot get into a fight!” you said just as he was about to land another punch.

Chen was by your side in a minute, dragging outraged Baekhyun away and you were hot on their heels as you tried to avoid people's intense stares.

Outside on fresh, chilly air, Baekhyun shrugged Chen off, fuming as he turned to you suddenly. “What the fuck just happened!”

You tried not to flinch at his voice, instead getting angry at him. “Are you nuts?! You know you cannot fight outside of your classes! Are you trying to get yourself expelled?!”

He was a hapkido master. Although not strictly, but if someone found out he used his trained strength against someone, his PhD title he was working so hard for could go to waste. And his teaching job as well. Basically, his entire career.

“This isn't about me!” he snapped. “I can't just stand there listening to him talking about you like that!” He was livid. “And what promise was your boss talking about? Was what I heard true?!”

When you weren't replying, your quivering chin was saying it all. Chen was next to Baekhyun to calm him down once again, while Sukyeong tried to calm you down as tears were rolling down your cheeks, your head extremely dizzy. “Yes, you heard correctly! He made me promise I won't get pregnant!”

“For what reason?” he laughed humorlessly as he ran his hands through his hair. “Why the fuck did you even agree to it?”

“Guys,” started Chen with a pleading voice, “you should go home and resolve it there. Baekhyun, your girlfriend is not well,” he added gently, nudging his friend to bring him to his senses.

Baekhyun went silent, taking in your shaky figure, teary cheeks and pale face. He hated the view. Heck, he despised it so much, more so because you were crying mostly because of his outburst. But he couldn't stand you being mistreated like that! And were you hiding stuff from him?

“We are going home, young lady,” he said, his voice uncomfortably levelled. “You have lots of explaining to do.”

#baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun smut #baekhyun imagine #baekhyun au #baekhyun scenario #kpop au #kpop scenario #exo scenario #exo fanfiction #exo au #my writings

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bnhabadass · 3 years

Text

This last week has been kind of rough, but I still managed to write this angsty pangsty Akaashi x Reader Fics for the BNHA Sanctuary Valentine’s Day Collab. I am not the best when it comes to writing angst and this is definitely not my best work, but I am still proud of it regardless.

Pairing: Akaashi x Reader Genre: Angst with happy ending Warnings: Pervy and some non-consensual behavior from Terushima Word Count: 3,212

He found you on the bathroom floor, eyes closed, naked body huddled into itself as water from the shower head sprayed onto you. You were tuning him out as he screamed your name, only coming to when you felt the consistent patter of the water stop and the weight of a fluffy towel was tossed on you.

“Bokuto?” The name came out in a breathy moment of confusion as the young, panicked man tried to shield his eyes from your naked form.

“What happened? Are you okay? Did you fall?” It was almost comedic, the way he shifted his body and frantically moved his arms to shield his eyes.

“Why’d you turn the water off?” you mumbled, looking down. “I still have soap in my hair.”

Finally, Bokuto opened his eyes to see that you did in fact still have bits of soap covering your hair and running down your back. “Are you okay?”

You nodded once, twice, before he felt confident enough to slip out and let you finish showering in peace.

You were finally dry, dressed, and was towelling off your wet hair as you walked into the kitchen.

Bokuto was eating breakfast and scrolling through Tiktok, not an unusual sight to see from him on a Saturday morning when he had nothing to do and could take his time eating.

“Coffee?” You held the empty pot up.

He looked up from his phone and shook his head. “Can’t have caffeine.”

Looking back at the pot you remembered that this was not the first time the two of you have had that conversation. “Right.” You put up the pot for yourself and grabbed a piece of bread out of the plastic bag on the counter. You didn’t bother toasting it before stuffing it in your mouth. “Fanks again fo wettin me stay hewe.”

“It’s no prob,” he smiled. You were amazed that he could understand you with all that bread in your mouth. “You’d do the same if my boyfriend dumped me.”

You swallowed the bread, a pensive look on your face. “But your boyfriend isn’t my best friend.”

He seemed to be thinking hard about what you had said. “That’s true,” he admitted. “But I’ve heard both sides of the story.”

The events between you and Akaashi were also not an uncommon thing to be discussed as of late. For the first two days of you sleeping on Bokuto’s couch, he left you alone for the most part, only asking you unrelated questions like if you wanted takeout or if you wanted to watch a movie or something. Then he asked what your plan was, if you planned on staying for a while or if you planned on going back to work soon. The last week was taxing on the both of you, but Bokuto was still incredibly supportive of everything, even if that involved him having to listen to you complain about his best friend.

“Does Akaashi know I’m staying here?” Your eyes stayed on the stream of dark brown liquid as you poured the contents of the coffee pot into a mug for yourself.

“You’re back to a last name basis?” The kicked-puppy look on Bokuto’s face made your heart want to melt. He had done such a good job of keeping his mood swings in check while you needed him to be your rock for you, but now that you were a bit more stable, he let himself back off a bit and turn back into the loveable baby Bo that everyone knew him as.

You smiled, repeating what you had asked. “Does Akaashi know I’m staying here.”

“No.” He stuck a piece of bacon in his mouth and nervously chewed it.

“Good.” Sitting down, you pulled out your phone and enjoyed your coffee in silence. You were sure that if he ever did find out, the consequences for Bokuto would be much more trouble than it was worth.

It was around five pm when the doorbell rang. Bokuto sprinted up from his spot on the couch and answered it. He swung the door open and on the other end, was a slightly sweaty Akaashi wearing exercise clothes, unlike his usual dark academia attire.

“Agaashi? You’re not pizza.” Bokuto cocked his head to the side.

“Sorry I’m not who you were expecting,” Akaashi apologized. “May I come in? I just...” he trailed off. “I just really need to figure this out and get everything out of my head.”

Fukorodani’s former ace was about to let him in, be there for his best friend, but he paused when he remembered that inside the apartment was you, Akaashi’s problem. Bo leaned his hand against the door frame. “No you may not.”

Akaashi wrinkled an eyebrow up. “And why is that?”

Sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, Bokuto answered, “because my place is a mess.”

“When has that ever stopped you from inviting me into your apartment?”

Leave it to you to be caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. This seemed to be happening more and more frequently. “Bo, is that the pizza?” you called from the kitchen. Stepping out towards the front door, your face fell as soon as you saw exactly who it was at the front door.

Akaashi’s face turned into that of pure disgust. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

At those six measly words strung into one of the most simple sentences, your heart ripped in half. You felt like you could cry. As full of rage as he was, looking at you like you were the trashiest piece of filth he had ever seen, you still wanted to find the man you fell in love with underneath. You still wanted to find the person who would give you shoulder rubs after a hard day of work, the person who read to you as you’d rest your head in his lap and never want to get up. As you looked into his eyes, all you could see was disgust and pure hatred. The love that once clouded his irises wasn’t anywhere to be found.

“Agaashi, wait,” Bokuto started. “I can explain.”

“How the hell can you explain this?” he scoffed. “After everything I’ve vented to you, every hardship I’ve had this week, you’re sleeping with her?”

The pounding heartbeat you could hear in your ears was replaced by an evergoing ringing that’s volume increased with each passing second. He thought... he thought you and Bokuto were sleeping together? You tried to find your voice but couldn’t.

“That’s not what’s happening,” Bokuto said, a sad sense of worry engulfing his voice. “She’s just staying on my couch because she has nowhere to go.”

“And why would you even bother hearing her out?”

You didn’t think your heart would be able to crack even more than it already had. You wanted to stand up for yourself, stand up for Bokuto who was about to lose his best friend in the world all because of you, but your voice caught in your throat every time you would part your lips to speak.

“I can’t believe this.” Akaashi turned around to walk away and it was at that moment that you realized that everything was over. No more shoulder rubs after work, no more laying on his lap as he read to you. You were through, and there was nothing you could do to stop him from walking away.

Falling to your knees, hitting the hardwood floors and not even caring about the bruises that would appear in the next day or two, you let out a sob. As loud as a child throwing a tantrum in the candy aisle of a grocery store, you sobbed and wept as it all began to sink in. You had just lost the love of your life.

You didn’t realize it, as your eyes were clouded over with a thick layer of salty tears, but Akaashi stopped at hearing your wails. A chill ran up his spine at such an ungodly and painful sound. You were broken and even though he was hurting just as much as you were, a little part of him wanted to help fix you.

Not much time had passed, not much time at all, before you felt gentle fingers brushing the tears out of your eyes. Looking up, Akaashi was towering over you. He gripped onto your arms and you braced onto him while standing up. You were surprised as he nodded at you, but you nodded back regardless. As he led you over to the couch, you held onto his ring finger, just in case he tried to go away.

Bokuto placed a hand on Akaashi’s shoulder after he stopped. Bokuto could read him as easily as Akaashi could read the books lining the walls in his apartment. “Please hear her out.” His voice was shaky. He couldn’t stand the thought of losing his best friend. “You don’t have to forgive her, but I don’t want to see either of you hurting anymore.”

Akaashi let out a strangled breath. Looking back at you crumpled into yourself on the floor, he realized that he didn’t want to see you hurting either. Your body was limp and you began coughing with each heavy sob you let out. Walking over to you, he wiped your tears away. At seeing your e/c eyes looking up at him, no matter how glassy they were with a fresh layer of tears, he felt lighter, like a piece of him that had been missing all week had finally returned.

He led you over to the couch and the both of you sat down. There was a great enough distance between you where you still felt the tension between you two, but it was much less suffocating than before.

Bokuto made you a pot of tea and set two cups in front of you. Akaashi reached for the pot and poured it into the cups. Then he waited, waited for you to do or say something, but you didn’t know what to say. You only looked down, picking at the dirt under your nails while waiting for him to speak up.

“Your tea’s getting cold.”

You nodded but made no move to drink it.

“Bokuto said that we should hear each other out.” He was looking down at his running shoes. “Would you like to go first?”

You swallowed and felt an ache in your dry yet tacky throat. “What do you think happened?”

He hesitated. “Well, I came home and I saw beer cans everywhere. I remembered you saying you had some friends coming over. And then, well.” He was clearly stalling. He didn’t want to say what you knew would come out of his mouth, and you couldn’t really blame him. “I heard laughing from the bedroom. So I walked in and saw you underneath Terushima.” That name felt like acid dripping off his tongue.

Of course the two of you knew each other, having gone to the same high school and being a part of the same volleyball club. It was a silly little get-together you planned, the last time you saw him, and you had even told Akaashi about it. You wanted to throw a little gathering for Misaki’s birthday. You had stayed in touch with your fellow senior manager all these years and wanted to do something special for her.

The get-together was at your shared apartment with Akaashi, who was out working late that night. Everyone was having fun drinking and catching up, and by the time it was late and almost everyone had left, Terushima was on his seventh drink of the night and could barely stand up on his own.

No one wanted to take him off your hands, especially since he would be such a pain to drag into a taxi, so you let him spend the night at yours. You left out a bucket for him just in case and made the couch up, finding a nice fluffy blanket for him to get comfy with.

But then he threw a fit. “No!” he whined in a slurred voice, spittle bubbling at the corners of his mouth. “Bed.”

“You can’t sleep in my bed, Teru. Where are me and Keiji supposed to sleep?” You left to grab him a glass of water and when you came back, he was gone. He had stumbled into your bedroom and had collapsed half on the bed, half on the floor. The fluffy blanket was still wrapped around him, making him look like a burrito.

He smiled as he hoisted himself up onto the bed. “Mmm,” he mumbled. “Bed.”

“Teru, you can’t sleep in here.” You tried to pull him off the mattress but he wouldn’t budge. Instead, he brought his hand out of the blanket burrito and reached out to pull him on top of you. You let out a yelp but couldn’t get up.

“Come cuddle.” His hand slithered down your back-side.

“Teru, let go.”

He rolled on top of you, trapping you between him and the mattress.

You couldn’t even let out another protest because you heard someone clearing their throat from the doorway. Akaashi stood there, dumbfounded and red-faced, not believing the sight in front of him.

“Oh thank god, Keiji, I–”

“Get out.”

You didn’t know what to say. “Baby, I–”

“Get the fuck out of my apartment.”

You had never heard Akaashi yell before, and you’re sure the neighbors who peaked their head out from their doors late at night had never heard him yell like that either. You sobbed, pleaded for him to hear you out all while Terushima snored in the background.

You’ve thought about that fight every day and night for the last week. Looking up at Akaashi now, you could still see the anger boiling inside of him.

“Is there a reason I found him on top of you?”

You let out a shaky breath and nodded. “I let my drunk friend stay the night and he took advantage of my kindness.”

He waited for you to continue.

“I was going to let him crash on the couch but when I turned my back he darted for the bedroom.” As you spoke, you could see the visible change in Akaashi’s stature.The way he sat loosened up as he was finally hearing the truth of what happened. You rubbed your tired eyes. “I tried to pull him off but he dragged me onto the bed with him.”

Akaashi felt sick. “He didn’t...” he trailed off, not able to get the words out. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

You shook your head. “No. I haven’t spoken to him since then so I don’t even know if he remembers what happened.” You could tell from the way he rubbed his fingers practically raw and the way he hunched over himself that Akaashi was getting anxious. What was going on through his head, you were unaware of, but you were sure it wasn’t sunshine and rainbows.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.” He needed to take another moment to find the right words. “I’m sorry that that happened to you.”

You nodded and picked up your cup of almost luke-warm tea. Hearing him say that, even if he was shaking at hearing that news and trying his hardest to keep it together, you felt a slight calm wash over you. It wasn’t perfect, but the thoughts that trailed in and out of your head, the ringing in your ears every time you thought of what happened between you and him, you and Terushima, the hot pelts of water falling down on you from this morning. It was all going away.

“I am so sorry.”

You nodded.

“I am so, so, so, so sorry.”

You looked up at that moment and realized that hot streams of tears were quickly working down Akaashi’s face. “Keiji,” you said, and you paused, realizing that that was the first time in a while you had said his first name.

“I am so...” he couldn’t even get the rest of the sentence out as hot breaths and an oncoming panic attack overtook him.

You stood up and set your tea cup onto the coffee table. Half of the contents inside sloshed out but you didn’t care. You sat right beside him and put your arms around his shoulders. Your fingers worked through his hair, greasier than usual but still soft and fluffy.

He gripped onto your arm and it hurt a little, but you knew he didn’t mean for it to hurt you. If anything, he was making sure that you were really there, that you wouldn’t dematerialize any second.

“I...I–”

You squeezed him tight and shushed him the way you would shush a fussy baby who wouldn’t calm down. “I know. I know you didn’t mean to.”

And then there was silence. Only staggering breaths that Akaashi let out and the sound of you running your fingers through his hair. It was almost serene, the way the two of you just sat there listening to the little little sounds in Bokuto’s apartment.

“I had a rough day at work,” he broke the silence. “I know that isn’t an excuse, but I was just hoping that after hours of deadlines and papers piling on top of each other and my back hurting, I could come home to you.”

Your gut wrenched as you realized that’s probably why he assumed you and Bokuto were being intimate with one another when he saw you earlier. “But when you saw me underneath Terushima.”

He nodded. “And I know that’s no excuse. And I am sorry, truly sorry for ever doubting you or questioning your loyalty to me as your boyfriend.”

You kissed the top of his head and nuzzled your nose in his hair. “I know, and I forgive you.” It’s true that you were in pain for that whole week, not having the energy to eat, sleep or even stand up in the shower, and all you wanted to do was cry, but after seeing the pain and regret on Akaashi’s face, all you wanted to do was squeeze him and never let go.

Neither of you left the couch for the next hour. You just held onto each other, not caring that it was getting late or that you had to pee or that your faces were stained and blotchy with tears. You barely spoke, just listened to each other breathe up and down.

“Will you come back home?” Akaashi broke the silence.

You looked up at him from his chest where you had been laying. “Of course.” Stretching up to give him a peck on the lips, he smiled at you.

“You know, tomorrow’s Valentine’s day.”

You were aware of the holiday, of course, but in the last week you couldn’t help but look at the paper hearts and other decorations lining store fronts with disdain. “I do.”

He pulled you into his embrace, rubbing your shoulders with a warm hand. “It’s too late to get any restaurant reservations, but would pizza and a movie suffice?”

“I think it will.” You smiled into his chest and nuzzled against him. Finally, after a miserable week away, you’d be going back home.

#haikyuu akaashi #akaashi keiji #hq akaashi #aka #Akaashi Keiji x reader #haikyuu x reader #valentine's day #angst #bnha sanctuary

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bvidzsoo · 3 years

Text

Abiding Darkness (XVII)

Author: bvidzsoo

Warning: violence and cursing

Pairing: Oh Sehun x OC

Word Count: 3, 912

Summary: Belikov Bora is living in Seoul at her grandparents as she had gotten her long awaited scholarship. She’s not new to this world but she’s also not really interested in the famous people of it…so maybe that’s why she gets the shock of her life when a zombie apocalypse begins and she’s stuck with Oh Sehun.

The deafening sound of the siren sent my heart into a frenzy as I tried thinking logically. Jian looked just as scared as I felt and I clutched her hand, trying to give her any form of comfort. Here we are safe, but if that’s the case, why are these sirens going off? Suddenly, a male deep voice boomed through the speakers hung in the room, one I didn’t notice before.

“Everyone pick anything that could serve as a weapon and head immediately to the Hall room, we are under attack. I repeat, we are under attack and it’s not an exercise!”

Jian and I looked at each other and simultaneously jumped up from the bed, a hiss leaving my lips when I put too much pressure on my broken shin.

“Get dressed as fast as possible!” I threw Jian’s old clothes at her as I tried taking deep breaths to stay calm. This isn’t the first time I have to fight the Affected ones, I know what to do to keep us safe. And here, we have weapons, there are soldiers here who know what to do. All I have to do is get Jian and me safely to the Hall room.

The clothes I arrived in here still had dirt and bloodstains on them but I couldn’t fight in loose fitted pants and a simple sweater. Jian ran to my side and I gripped her hand in mine as I placed my crutch underneath my armpit, ready to take off. But before we could get to the door it got kicked open and we both froze. A bloodied, deformed face and black eyes were staring back at us. The Affected one snared and shot forward, taking us by surprise, but it was enough to wake me up from my initial shock. We survive tonight and I’ll do anything it takes.

“Hide in the bathroom, Jian!” I rushed out as I raised my crutch at swung it at the Affected one. It jumped back, cleverly avoiding my attack. I glared at it but quickly glanced back to see if Jian listened to me, which was a mistake. Before I could react, I was tackled onto the bed and the Affected one was snarling in my face. A guttural growl left my throat when the Affected one went to clutch at my neck and I delivered the hardest punch I could at its face. Its head shot up and blood dripped on my face, it disgusted me, but I took the moment of weakness of the Affected one to my advantage and kicked it off of me. However, this one seemed very determined to get me so it was back on its feet in a few seconds, leaving me no time to pick up my crutch and swing at it. For a second we just stared at each other in silence and that’s when I remembered these were people before they turned into these monsters. I was killing once innocent people, people who didn’t deserve to die. My thoughts were all forgotten when the Affected one snarled once again and went to lunge at me. I leaned down a bit and ran towards the creature, hooking my arms around its torso and slamming it against the wall. There was a cracking sound and I dropped to the ground to pick up my crutch before the Affected one could recover from my attack. I raised the crutch and using all the force I had I swung at its head, once again a cracking sound echoed in the room. I winced but swung at it again, harder this time, but the Affected one ducked. I shrieked in frustration and the creature only snarled before kicking my broken shin. A scream full of pain left my lips, the pain just as unbearable as the first time I broke it, but I didn’t back down. If I die, it gets to Jian, and I won’t let that happen. So with a deadly glare, knees shaking, my crutch went through the stomach of the Affected one, pinning it up to the wall.

“Die, bitch” I snarled at it as it continued kicking around until it just stopped moving. With shaky hands, I pushed the hair that had fallen into my eyes away and turned around to go for Jian. I yelped when I placed pressure on my broken shin but I couldn’t give up, not now.

“Jian” I called out as I barged inside the bathroom.

“I thought I wouldn’t see you again” Jian cried when she saw me walking inside the bathroom and I opened my arms as she ran into them, “When you screamed--”

“Shh, it’s okay. I would never leave you alone, don’t ever forget that” I gave her a reassuring smile and a kiss on her forehead, “I don’t know how many Affected ones are in here, you have to stay in this bathroom--”

“No, I can’t stay alone--”

“Jian, if we both go and there’s too many of them, I...I won’t be able to save you, please” Tears filled the little girl’s eyes and I sighed as I felt my heart breaking. I didn’t want to leave her here either, but I had no choice. If I had to die today, at least I die protecting someone.

“I’ll stay here” Jian’s eyes turned hard, a look I haven’t seen on her before and it made me ache that she had to be tough at such a young age, “Give me a weapon”

I looked around the room frantically for anything that could be used as a weapon when I noticed the metal piece that was used as a shelf for the toothpaste and toothbrushes. I hopped to it and ripped it off the wall creating a loud commotion. Jian took it from my hands and gave me a firm nod. I smiled at her and rushed her into the shower stall pulling the curtain so that it would hide her from unwanted eyes.

“When this is all over, I’ll come back for you” I muttered through the curtain and I could see Jian’s head moving in a nod.

“Go, I’ve got this” Her voice was strong but reassuring at the same time. I sighed and with a last glance at her, I exited the bathroom and closed the door, locking it. No one would get to her, not if that depended on me. My eyes fell on the gruesome scene of the dead Affected one and I limped over, yanking my crutch out of the creature’s stomach, watching as it fell limply to the ground. Good, I have to get to the Hall room now and fight off these creatures until none is left.

The silence in the hallway was deadly as I inched closer to the door and I gulped loudly before exiting the safety of my room that it once offered. My foot was only halfway out of the door when I was tackled into a tight hug, so surprised that I didn’t react.

“You’re alive” The voice was quiet as my brain registered who was hugging me and I inhaled sharply, returning the tight hug.

“Jian is in the bathroom, we can’t take her with us...not until we know it’s safe” I whispered as Sehun took a step back, arms falling from around me. I craved his warmth, I wanted him to throw his arms around me once again, I wanted to forget about the wailing sirens and about the snarls that were loud in the distance, I just wanted to be with Sehun and him only.

“I heard a scream and I--”

“The Affected one kicked my shin, I’m fine. But are you--”

“Good. I’m good, let’s go” Sehun’s eyes hardened once again, all warmth disappearing and I sighed quietly to myself. He still didn’t forgive me, he was just scared something happened to us and that’s why he came to check. But I didn’t mind as long as he stayed by my side, I didn’t care if he hated me, I didn’t care if he fed me to the Affected ones to save himself, he was safe for now and that’s what truly matters to me.

The hallways were empty, a sight we didn’t expect. Sehun held onto tightly the bloody metal rod, before he came to check on Jian and I, he had to fight three Affected ones. I tried not to hiss at every step I took, Adrenaline wasn’t as high to take away the pain I felt due to my broken shin. The cast cracked a bit and only just now I realized how strong these creatures are. One kick was enough to create a crack in my cast, no wonder my whole leg was throbing in pain. The sight of my bloody crutch made me dizzy and with a sharp inhale I stopped walking, feeling dizzy I leaned up against the wall. Sehun didn’t stop, he probably didn’t notice my reaction, only when he was almost at the end of the hallway. But I didn’t care, my lungs were on fire, my body was in pain and I would die. For the first time since we got into this deadly situation, I realized that I would actually die. I had no way out, no one would save me. The soldiers had to protect everyone, didn’t have the luxury to protect just me. One moment of them not paying attention to me and I’m dead. Hell, if we get to the Hall room, that is. And I left Jian alone, what was I thinking? She’d be safest with us and in the Hall room not left alone in our room’s bathroom, with a locked door on top of all.

“Hey, are you listening to me?” Sehun’s voice seemed far away and I closed my eyes tightly, “No, you can’t have a pannic attack right now, Bora, focus on my voice”

But it was really hard, I could barely breathe at this point, “We...are...going...to...die”

I heard and saw nothing, until I felt warmness on my cheeks. I couldn’t open my eyes, that would have made me throw up, the lightning was too much, and there was this high pitched sound coming from the now silent alarms that was making my head throbe.

“We are not dying, listen to me” Sehun’s voice sounded stern but pannicked, “Count with me”

I can’t even think straight and he wants me to count with him?

“One, two, three, four…” His voice was warm, just like his hands, as he counted with me while taking deep breaths. I started following him, his voice sounding closer this time, but I still couldn’t open my eyes. My lungs were on fire but I could breathe again, it hurt.

“Twenty” I whispered as I started coughing, the needed oxygen entering my system once again.

“Twenty” Sehun whispered after me, “We are not dying”

My eyes opened at the harshness of his voice and I was no longer blinded by the lights, the high pitched sound was gone. His face was just an inch away from mine, his breath was fanning over my face and I was taken aback. I wanted to kiss him, I didn’t care if he hated me, I didn’t care if he fed me to the Affected ones once we stumbled upon them, but I wanted to kiss him one last time. So I did, I pushed my lips against his warm and chapped ones, eyes closing at the fire that spread through my body. I was desperate but so were his lips. He clutched onto my cheeks and pulled my face harder against his, making my lips ache at the force. But I didn’t care, this is what I wanted and he wanted it too. I was the one to initiate the kiss and I was the one to end it. I pulled back, lungs screaming for oxygen once again as I inhaled longly, eyes staring into his. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t pull away. His dark eyes were shining with an emotion I have never seen before and it made me cry, but I couldn’t, not now. So I softly pushed him back and leaned down to take my crutch back into my hands and took off. I didn’t look back, I knew he was following me, but I didn’t look back because if I did, I knew I’d break down.

~~~

It was safe to say that Sehun and I were lost, we had no idea where the Hall room was so we were just running around, limping in my case, around this bunker. There were many compartments and none were the one we had to find. Sehun let out a frustrated sigh as he kicked his metal rod while walking in front of me. I was getting tired, the pain got worse and if we continued like this I wouldn’t be able to fight by the time we find the Hall room. Sehun stopped walking suddenly and I ran into him.

“What are you--” My words died in my mouth when I peaked over his shoulder, double doors open and snarls and gun shots echoed down the whole hallway. The place was full of them, even with our guns, we’d die. I sighed and closed my eyes to curse quietly.

“We have to help them, my hyungs are there--”

“Yeah, I know Sehun” I muttered and walked past him, pushing away the pain shooting up my leg. If I die might as well die doing something. Sehun started mumbling behind me that he couldn’t let me go inside injured, that I couldn’t fight. I didn’t care, Jian is still back in that room, she still needs to survive.

“Stop trying to fight me on this one, Sehun” I spoke up tiredly as I gazed at the open doors, “If I do die, I’m sorry that I lied to you. If you don’t want to see past your own prejudice and accept the fact that I was trying to make you happy, it’s fine. But don’t think that I was ever your or EXO’s fan”

Before he could say something, his eyebrows furrowed, I turned around and stepped inside the room. It was chaos, what I saw in front of my eyes was pure chaos. An affected one hurried towards me so I raised my crutch and swung at it with all my force, sending it to the ground. There was a loud cracking sound next to me and when I glanced there, Sehun was glaring at another creature that tried to get to me, his metal rod bloodier than before. My eyes looked around for familiar faces and when I saw Baekhyun waving his arm crazily in the air I gripped Sehun’s arm and started running. I cried out in pain, but I didn’t stop. They were hiding behind some tables that were supposed to keep the Affected ones away from them, but it wasn’t working out as Chanyeol was beating one to death with a frying pan. We were barely a few steps away from them when I was yanked back by my hair, a shriek leaving my lips. The crutch fell from my hand and I pannicked, no crutch means I’m dead. I tried to untagle myself from the creature’s grip when I heard its snarl right next to my ear. It was going to bite me, immune or not, if I bleed to death what did I do? Nothing.

“Bora!” Sehun’s desperate voice snapped me out of my thoughts and I looked at him. His friends were holding him back, he was trying to fight them off but three held him. Of course they wouldn’t let him save me, he was more precious than I am. And that’s alright. But I’m not dying today.

I elbowed the Affected one hard in the stomach and ducked, my scalp hurting as it still held onto my hair, I yelped loudly. I turned and kicked it in the knees, sending the creature down to the ground and went to grab my crutch. But suddenly there were shots fired at the Affected one and I jumped as I watched it still its movements. It was dead. I quickly grabbed my crutch and crawled to Sehun, who had his hands out to grab onto me and pull me behind shelter. Once I was behind the tables his fingers interwined with mine and when I tried to pull my hand away he growled and threw me a glare. Did he forgive me? Or was this just because we survived out there together and felt a certain need to protect each other. I hope Jian is alright, I can’t imagine what she must feel right now.

“Where’s Jongdae?” I suddenly heard Sehun speaking as he looked over his friends, “No. Did we--did he--”

“He’s alive” Xiumin was quick to answer Sehun as he lowered back down to change his ammunition, “They realized that a certain frequency is harmful to the Affected ones, he’s trying to discover which one with a few engineers in the sound room”

“Are they alone?” Sehun’s eyebrows were furrowed in worry and I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“No, soldiers are there with them” Lay answered instead of Xiumin this time as he went back to shooting.

“That’s what I was hearing…” I muttered to myself as I remembered the high pitched sound.

“What are you talking about?” Sehun asked confused as Baekhyun tried moving the table to offer us more shelter.

“When I had the panick attack there was a ringing I kept hearing…” I answered Sehun, who nodded looking visibly more relaxed.

“Where’s princess?” Baekhyun asked as he looked around, eyes finding mine and Sehun’s one at a time.

“I locked her in my bedroom’s bathroom”

“What? We are the most safest here, she’s not--”

“Are we really that safe here?” I snapped, fear of losing Jian crawling over my body. Baekhyun is wrong.

“Look around, Baekhyun, Bora did good leaving Jian behind, we could die at any time” Sehun came to my aid and I nodded along his words. Baekhyun was chewing his lower lip nervously before shaking his head and scooting away from us.

“You did the right thing, Bora” Sehun whispered and I nodded back. Suddenly, Xiumin cursed and ducked down, eyebrows furrowed.

“We don’t have any ammunition left here!” He called out and the boys looked at each other. The deep voice of the commander was heard from our left.

“We are running out of ammunition here too!” We are screwed.

Junmyeon’s eyebrows furrowed and he suddenly grabbed the gun from Xiumin, “Everyone grab something to use as weapon! If Jongdae doesn’t hurry up, I’m afraid we won’t hold on for too long…”

I was already raising to my feet, pulling the crutch out from underneath my armpit, ready to fight for our lives. But Sehun tugged on my arm and I clumsily fell and cried out, feeling as if something cracked inside my shin. I was about to yell at Sehun but he spoke words I never thought I’d hear from him.

“I love you” He said, eyes boring into mine. And just like that, I felt like it was once again just the two of us. No one around us, no Affected ones that were about to kill us all if Jongdae didn’t find the right frequency, no cries coming from the people around us that they have run out of ammunition.

“I love you” I whispered back and his eyes widdened before he pulled me up, a determined look crossing his feature. In that moment I knew Sehun decided he’d do anything to keep me, his friends, and himself alive.

But before the Affected ones could get any closer, they started crying out, their voices horrifying as they echoed around the room. They started clutching their heads and suddenly, one by one, fell to the ground. Everyone looked around, confused, until we saw some men in lab coats running inside the room, with Jongdae behind them clutching a machine gun, eyes wide.

“We did it” We heard him say and everyone started cheering. I let out a breath and my eyes glossed over, I survived. Sehun survived, Jian survived. I turned my head and Sehun was already looking at me, a few tears rolling down his cheeks. I chuckled and he shook his head, pulling me into another tight hug. We were gonna get through this. We could kill all Affected ones now that we know how to stop them. We would survive.

Three months later

The smell of freshly cooked food was everywhere in the house. As I descended the stairs a smile etched itself on my lips at the loud chatter coming from the dining room.

Things haven’t been easy after Jongdae discovered how to stop the Affected ones. Scientists worked hard on finding a cure and last month they did, so now instead of killing all remaining Affected ones they were trying to catch them and return them to their old selves. It wasn’t easy, especially for them, but progress was visible. People were less afraid to go out and we started building back up the city and the nature that was destroyed. I was actually leading one of the nature restoring organization, getting a lot of help from Jian’s father. Jian was lucky enough, her father was found and once he got the cure he returned to his old self. It was hard for him, he refused to speak to anyone and see people, but soon enough with the help of others and a good psychologist, he was ready to return to his old life and to his loving daughter. The news on having lost his wife wasn’t easy on him, but he came around. Now, Jian and I hung out daily and Jian’s father, Yesung, even allowed Jian to stay with us whenever she wanted to. He was really grateful for saving his daughter and keeping her alive. Jian became my little sister.

My parents moved to South Korea to be closer and to help. My father joined the army here and helped catch other Affected ones meanwhile my mother stayed at home with me and helped out whenever she could. As for Sehun and I…

“Slept well?” His low voice was loud in my ear and I grinned as I turned my head to look at him. He lowered his head and pressed a long kiss on my lips. Sehun’s family was well, they were found hiding out in a cabin in the woods a few kilometers away from the city. They moved back into the city once things were better and now Sehun and I lived together in the house my parents bought for the time they were here. After they leave we’d move in to Sehun’s apartment, but right now we enjoyed living as one big family.

“Splendidly, you?” Sehun chuckled and shook his head.

“You know I did too” I rolled my eyes at the wink and cocky smile on his face and cleared my throat to make our presence known.

“Oh, come have breakfast dears!” My mother’s chirpy voice called out and I smiled as Sehun took my hand in his and lead me to the table.

Things were finally good. No more secrets, no more diary entries.

The End

A/N: Hello everyone, the long awaited last chapter is here, after a year of not posting it! Sorry for that, for making you all way for so long, but I had a lot going on. I was in my last year of high school so I really needed to study and now I’m in university so once again I have to study even more. Truth be told, I’m kind of done with writing fanfiction as my inspiration was gone for a long time now, and I probably have a major writers block as well. But hey, who knows when it’ll return. I still write fanfiction, it just takes longer to write them. Thank you for following the story of Belikov Bora and Oh Sehun, consider this as my Christmas present for you all! Merry Chirstmas once again guys!

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