#okay wait last ramble here but. this is also why the lack of information we got on trent was so crushing to me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shorkbrian · 3 years

Note

How about some barbarian bakugo noncon?

Prelude - One time I came home from a walk and smelled this scent so freaking thick that I could taste it, and I almost threw up cause it smelled like skinning a deer but like, ten times worse?? and I was like lol that’s kinda weird and it turns out the neighbor had caught a skunk in a catch-and-release trap (which we gave him cause we didn’t want him catching a skunk in a trap that’d kill it) and apparently decided to kill it right then and there, and just let it by the edge of his property, right by my car. That was fun.

Anyways, Katsuki makes a big deal about reader looking different in this. You can take that any way you’d like. Personally, I was feeling insecure about my freckles (I have so many that my skin almost looks even-toned because they almost all touch rip) and my hair color/odd face so I wrote him liking that reader looked different. It’s not super deep lol

Pairing - Bakugou Katsuki X Reader X slight Izuku Midoriya

Warnings - NSFW, dubcon, noncon, voyerisum, exhibistionism, blood mention lol. Idk groping?

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/4FeWr4OsidcJClBjUEBHWI?si=OPHwLWXrTsiNQ42SlMKLEg

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There is a point where you stop screaming.

A point when you realize that no one is coming to save you, that you’re wasting your breath, that it’s fruitless. Does nothing more than raw your throat and grate against your own ears.

It’s no use. The Barbarian King seems unaffected, perhaps even spurred on by your ear-splitting screams. There’s no reason to scream anymore - it’d be impossible to scream forever.

——

Village in flames, corpses littering the streets. You’d heard about the stench of death from books, from traveling warriors who stop in your village for a night, regaling the people with tales of heroics and strength. It smelled quite different from what you had imagined though.

Metallic, yes, but tangy, thick enough for you to taste the iron seeping into the ground. Raw, like the scent of the butcher’s shop, heavy and suffocating - you hadn’t been able to breathe.

Everything had happened so fast, too fast. People were dead, people were dying, people were killing and being killed. You had been running, trying to escape the stifling aroma of your village being drained, the barbarians running amok through the streets leeching out it’s lifeblood.

Then you had been falling, tripped up by a loose limb on the ground, a body still warm and rattling with it’s last breaths. Shocked by the vivid image of the gore underneath you, a man reaching for his severed arm, you hadn’t been able to catch yourself as you fell, a cry leaving your lips.

Darkness.

And then light as you slowly blinked to awareness, slumped on the ground. A line of prisoners, prizes from the raid. You were one of them, hands bound to your neck, ankles tied to the people on either side of you. Two men had come by after a while, a green haired man in dress similar to your own - perhaps a captured man from the village?

The other man was bare chested, as many of the barbarians were, gold and red paint swirled across his skin in intricate, sharp patterns. He looked fearsome, and he barked at the green haired man accompanying him who scribbled furiously onto paper at each utterance of the fearsome blonde man.

They seemed to be going down the lengthy line of prisoners, assigning them? Selecting them for something? You didn’t know, couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You were numb, sealed off from the horrific event you had just experienced, safe within your cocoon of forced apathy.

And then the two men were in front of you, the blonde man silent as he stared you down, the green haired man with his pen poised, though he studied you also.

But they quickly moved on, the barbarian barking something at his companion, before striding to the next prisoner.

You had been untied from your fellow captives, led through the barbarian camp. Red tents, warm fires and laughter filled the space, bare-chested warriors of both genders celebrating their recent victory.

The large red tent you had been led to was warm, a fire crackling in the deep pit in the center, silky furs softening the harshness of the ground. There was a table in front of the fire, a large basin filled with water nearby, close to the fire. A desk in the corner, near the tent flap, and a folding screen hiding the back of the tent from view.

Promptly tied to the leg of a table, you were left alone, the woman who had dragged you here leaving before you could ask what was happening.

Shortly, green hair popped through the tent flap, quickly followed by the rest of the man from earlier, the one dressed like your people.

“Izuku Midoriya!” He had introduced himself, giving a little flourish as he bowed, before being pushed aside as the fearsome blonde from before entered the tent.

Still tied to the leg of the table, numb to the world, you merely stared at the ground when the two men approached.

“What’s your name?” The green haired man - Izuku - asked.

He was met with a blank stare.

The blonde man growled at your lack of answer, spitting something in his native tongue, words you didn’t understand. Izuku seemed to shrink, before turning to address you again.

“Please tell us your name. Kacchan is not the most patient man.”

The fearsome man beside him bared his teeth towards you, and you shrank back. He did not seem the type of person who tolerated being left waiting.

“(Y/N)….” You whispered, eyes falling to the ground.

“(Y/N), ah! Such an interesting name, the first part means-“ Izuku was cut off from his ramble with a shove from the blond man - Kacchan - who crouched down in front of you, rolling your name around his tongue.

Turning, he spoke to Izuku in the same jumbled language, who listened, then addressed you as Kacchan turned back to study you again.

“Kacchan would like to know uhm, uuh.....” Izuku trailed off, uncertain eyes flickering between you and the blonde.

Kacchan scoffed, listening to Izuku’s hesitancy with disdain, saying something directed at the younger man, yet Kacchan’s eyes were fixed on you the entire time. It was intimidating.

“He uh, wants to know ifyou’reavirgin.”

Oh god.

Even though the man’s words were rushed, you understood, limbs beginning to shake. You were going to be violated.

A finger poking your calf made you jump, the blonde man leering at you, head cocked to the side, eyebrow raised as if to say “Well?”

You shook your head - lovers had existed in your life, not many, but you still cherished each one deeply, thought back on the experiences you shared fondly.

When relayed this information, the blonde man seemed to grin even wider, rising to his feet. “This will be easier then, no need to go slow.”

With a gasp, you lifted your gaze, wide eyes taking in the man hovering above you. His words were completely forgotten as you took in the shock of understanding his words. He spoke your tongue? Wasn’t he using an interpreter? Why-?

The confusion must be apparent on your face, because Kacchan scoffed, turning to stride to the table, taking a seat facing the fire.

“It pays to play dumb.”

“Loose lipped locals give information more freely when they assume that Kacchan can’t understand them.” Izuku beamed, crouching down in the Barbarian’s previous place to begin untying the rope binding your hands and feet to the table leg.

“Stand up for me please.”

You did as Izuku asked, shakily rising to your feet with a helping hand from Izuku on your arm. He began leading you towards the basin nearby, Kacchan watching the two of you with sharp eyes.

“Do you need help with the fastenings?” Giving Izuku a confused look, your eyes fell to the basin, to the fire, to Kacchan seated at the table. Were they going…. Were they going to boil you alive? Eat you?

Trembling even harder now, it was only Izuku’s surprisingly strong grip on your arm that kept you upright, knees giving out beneath you.

“Help her out, she’s damn near useless.” Kacchan’s strong voice cut through the air, the air that seemed too thick, the air that was choking you, throat closing up.

What does one even do in this situation? Do you beg for your life? Scream for help? Who would come? Accept your inevitable fate?

There was no time to make a decision, however, because Izuku’s nimble fingers were pulling at the fastening of your dress, quickly unlacing it.

You were numb again, fingers leaden, legs heavy, mind fuzzy and listless. Izuku peeled down the top of your dress, and you barely thought to cover yourself - you’d be dead in minutes anyways, what did it matter?

Still, your hands rose to your breasts, shielding them from view involuntarily. Kacchan snorted from his sweat, but said nothing.

When you were completely bare, an arm over your chest, a hand over your sex, Izuku ushered you towards the basin, prompting you to step into it.

This was it, you were going to die.

One last shot of fear raced up your spine, and you turned to the green haired man by your side, his hand falling away from the small of your back. “Please, please don’t kill me, I don’t know what I did but please spare my life. Please, I’m sorry.” Tears were burning your vision, throat choked up with thickness.

Kacchan burst into laughter. “I’m not gonna kill you, the fuck?! Goddamn, your people call us barbarians yet you’re afraid of a bath, fucking hypocrites.” There was a mirthful glint in his eyes when you looked at him, the man leaning back in his chair, arms resting behind his head as he relaxed.

Izuku chuckled also, putting his hand on your lower back again, gently pushing you towards the basin. “You’ll be okay, it’s just some warm water. It’s close to the fire because we don’t want you to catch a chill. You know, the human body actually operates best when it’s within the temperatures of-“

“Deku, shut your trap before I come kick your ass, just get the girl into the water, you dumb fuck.”

The water was warm, and it felt pleasant against your skin, just on the right side of too warm, hot enough to have you relaxing your shoulders as you sank down lower, the liquid covering you up to your neck.

Izuku-Deku? Held your hair out of the way, quickly using a scoop to wet down the strands before rubbing some kind of herbal scrub through your scalp, cleaning out the dirt and debris that had gathered during the raid. You were certain you were absolutely filthy, covered in mud and small scraps, half of your side crusted with dried blood and muck from falling in the bloody street.

For a moment, you felt embarrassed at your earlier panic, silly and like a stupid child, thinking that they were going to boil and eat you. It was clear now what their intent had been, but riddled with fear your thoughts had been clouded and slow.

Fear was still present, rolling through your brain in waves, goosebumps rising from your flesh as you tried to hypothesize what was going to happen to you. From their earlier questioning, you had a faint idea, but you couldn’t bear to think about that outcome, didn’t know if you could tolerate it.

Instead, you let the warm water soothe your body, washing away the grime and dust. Izuku’s hands were gentle in your hair, as he massaged your scalp, as he rinsed out the soap. You tried to ignore how his breath hitched whenever you shifted - you couldn’t keep all of your body covered, no matter how you positioned yourself.

His hands disappeared from your hair, instead prompting your to sit up straight so he could scrub at your body with a cloth smelling of the herbal soap.

It felt weird, and goosebumps arose on your skin as strange hands touched your body. You closed your eyes and endured, for there was nothing else that could be done.

Running would be a bad idea - a naked woman sprinting through the barbarian camp would surely be caught and violated, or brought back to this tent for some twisted punishment. And you could only run if you managed to get past the two men, who ere watching you like hawks, and much, much stronger than you.

Izuku’s hands paused briefly at your chest, eyes flickering over to the blonde man, who nodded in permission. Then Izuku’s hand were running the cloth across your breasts, washing them in gentle circular motions, taking care to not scrub too hard or push too deep.

You bit your tongue as you waited for it to be over.

And it was soon, at least that part. Then the green haired man was instructing you up on your knees, facing him. Telling you to grab onto his shoulder (the man was also kneeling) and spread your legs apart.

Trembling limbs obeyed, face flushing bright red as you followed his commands, eyes squeezing shut so you wouldn’t have to look at his own flushed face.

He ran the cloth down your back, over your ass, then slipped it between your legs to wash your sex with easy swipes of the cloth. The man’s breathing picked up subtly, and you could tell, leaning up against him as you were. His hands wandered, the cloth moving slower and slower upon your cunt, almost stroking at your folds, his fingers pressing through the cloth.

“Oi, Deku! Keep your shitty hands to yourself, you’re supposed to be washing her up, not feeling her up, shitbrain.” Kacchan barked, slamming his fist down against the table to get Izuku’s attention.

Both you and the man in front of you jumped, Izuku immediately blushing the deepest red you’d ever seen, flashing the blonde an apologetic look and you a nervous smile, before he seemed to gather himself, continuing to dutifully cleanse your nether regions.

It was awkward for the both of you, feeling his hands run over your private areas, over your sex, through your ass cheeks. But then he was down, rinsing you off with scoops of warm water before fetching a large towel, ushering you out of the basin, holding out the towel to wrap around your body when you stepped out.

Then you were ushered closer to the fire, sat upon a small stool as you huddled close to the warmth, clutching the towel tightly around you. The air was quite warmer than outside, but was still cold to your wet skin.

Izuku began running his fingers through your hair, parting knots, patting sections dry with a corner of the towel. By the time he was finished, you felt warm again, face rosy from the heat of the fire.

The heat felt pleasant, like the feeling of a full belly after a long day.

You were tired, exhausted from the emotional weight you had endured. Village burned, tripping over corpses and disembodied limbs, taken captive, forced away from your fellow villagers. Stripped down and fondled - at this point, you just wanted to sleep.

To sleep and sleep, wake up and have this all be a bad dream. Some twisted nightmare your mind conjured up while in the warmth and safety of your own home.

A large hand upon your shoulder roused you from your half-asleep state, lulled by the warmth of the fire and the quietness of the tent. You jumped, turning to find Kacchan towering over you and Izuku both.

Kacchan crouched, his hand sliding from your shoulder to your hair, then onto your cheek. “You look so fuckin’ weird.”

Izuku sputtered. “Oh my god, what he means to say, is that we’ve never seen anyone like you before. You’re… quite unique, and very um, attractive.”

You leaned away from the hand on your cheek, and Kacchan let you, red eyes blinking slowly as they scanned your features. He was an odd man, as was Izuku. There was an obvious dynamic of power, Izuku submitting to Kacchan willingly.

“Alright, you’re dry enough, get up.” You blinked at Kacchan, processing his words, before he huffed out a breath, rising to his own feet. “C’mon, let’s go, are you stupid? Get the fuck up.”

You scrambled to your feet, towel still wrapped tightly around your body, preserving your modesty.

Kacchan’s hand shot out, gripping the back of your neck, pulling you along with him as he strode towards the back of the tent, towards the sectioned screen acting as a wall.

“Deku, make your ass useful and dump out the bathwater, will ya?”

You weren’t able to see Izuku move due to the hand forcing your head forward, but you could hear his footsteps as he hurried to do what Kacchan instructed.

Rounding the screen, it was clear to see that this was where the Barbarian King slept, a pile of cozy-looking furs strewn in a pile on the ground.

You were promptly shoved towards them, stumbling down to your knees as you lost your balance. The furs provided cushion though, soft and inviting.

But you were scared again.

It was happening, it was going to happen, you were going to raped by the King.

Turning back towards the man, you began to plead, hands securing the towel around your shoulders like a safety blanket. “Sir, please, don’t do this, why me? You can have anyone, not me, please not me.”

He ignored you in favor of beginning to strip, unfastening his cloak, removing his weapons. You decided to try and appeal using a more personal approach.

“Kacchan-“

Suddenly the man was in your face, his own visage twisted into a growl.

“Don’t you ever fucking call me that. Stupid ass Deku made that shit up when we were kids, I’m not some brat anymore. I’m Katsuki-“ He backed away from you, leaving you trembling. “-Barbarian King.”

The man resumed removing his clothes, dropping his belt to the ground, grumbling as he began to undo his pants. “Should beat his fuckin’ ass for calling me that, so goddamn disrespectful. Fuck him, stupid little ass wipe twerp-“

You tuned him out, frozen. What could you do? Another impasse where your options were none.

A strong hand gripped your shoulder, or more accurately, your towel, tugging it forcefully away from you.

“No!” You cried, trying to pull it back, to cover yourself, but the man was stronger, ripping it away before you could utter another word.

“No! Stop, please!” You tried again, finally taking in Kacc-Katsuki before you. He was naked now, aside from the paint decorating his skin. His cock was quickly hardening, plumping up with each step he took towards you as you scrambled backwards.

“Katsuk-Katsuki, I’m begging you, please don’t do this. I’ll do anything! Please just have someone else!” You sobbed, back finally meeting the wall of the tent.

Katsuki smirked, crouching down just out of your reach. “You’ll do anything? You’ll let my horde use you as a toy then?”

Dread flowed through your already fear-filled body, and you gulped thickly, eyes closing.

“No?”

Shaking your head, you started to cry silently, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“You’re already doing fucking anything.” Katsuki growled, hand shooting out to grab your ankle, dragging you down and towards him.

A high-pitched cry left you as he pulled you under him, until he was hovering over you, grinning. “Cry all you want, ain’t gonna change a damn thing. In fact-“ He surged down, until his forehead touched your own, red eyes blazing “-It just turns me on more.”

The man pulled away, a hand falling heavily around your throat, giving a compulsory squeeze before hie started moving his hand downwards, fingers skimming across your flesh.

Immediately, your own hands caught his own, trying to still their journey as they neared your breasts. Katsuki paused, a sound akin to a growl falling from his throat as his eyes flickered away from your body and up to your own eyes.

There was a threat there, a warning. Let him touch, or else. Trembling, you removed your hands, instead grabbing at the furs you rested upon. Katsuki made a gruff sound of approval, before resuming his exploration of your body.

“You’re like nothing I’vs ever seen before, know that? Like some fuckin’ alien or something, but damn, you’re gorgeous. Didn’t even know someone could look like this.” He mused, entranced as he watched his hands splay over your body, pinching at your skin, caressing your breasts, slipping over your stomach and down between your legs.

“Oh god, pleaseee-“ You sobbed out, cringing as a finger trailed down your slit.

Katsuki stilled, quirking a brow as he smiled meanly. “Please what? You wanna cum?”

“Please stop…” You whispered, eyes clenching shut again as he found your clit, giving it a few quick rubs.

The man scoffed, before quickly teasing one of his fingers into your tight hole. “Tough shit, I’ve never had whatever the fuck you are, I ain’t stopping”

His finger burned, dry and too large, and you struggled to keep from clenching down upon it in discomfort, trying to force out the intrusion. This would go easier if you relaxed, if you let him have his way. You knew that, rationally, but it was hard to make you body obey.

Katsuki prepped you quickly, fingering you open until he deemed you ready, withdrawing his fingers and crudely wiping them off upon your thigh. You twitched away at the wetness, at your own slick being cleaned off on your skin, but Katsuki ignored you.

“Why do you look like this anyway? What the fuck happened?” Katsuki asked coarsely, shuffling off of your thighs, moving to lounge by your side, studying you.

The man seemed to be taking a break, more interested in your looks than fucking you, but you were glad for the reprieve, trying to wipe tears from your face as you struggled to think of a response.

“I-I don’t know?” You finally spoke, genuinely at a loss for how to explain your appearance.

Katsuki studied you with sharp eyes, a hand reaching down to his cock, beginning to absent-mildly pump himself while he looked you over.

“I’ve traveled through every shitty little village in the north, met with the damn piss-baby tribes of the east, I’ve ransacked the towns of spoiled nobles, and I’ve never seen anyone who looks like you.”

You sat up, subtly shuffling away from the Barbarian King while you shrugged, at a loss.

Your appearance wasn’t anything superiorly unusual, but apparently it piqued Katsuki’s interest. Yes, your skin was perhaps a bit different, but it’s not like you were inhuman.

Katuski seemed to get tired of talking though, settling further back into the furs, getting himself comfortable as he jerked himself off. You refused to look between his legs.

“Alright, whatever. Get up here.”

Pausing, you looked at him incredulously. Did he mean on his lap? His chest? You didn’t want to be anywhere near him - wouldn’t he find more pleasure with someone who was willing?

“Are you fucking deaf? C’mon, up.” He growled, patting his thigh, urging you over.

A gulp before you started moving, limbs heavy and hesitant, unwilling as you slowly crawled forward, towards the intimidating, impatient blonde.

You straddled his thighs unsteadily, swinging your leg over, trying to avoid touching his cock.

Unfortunately, despite your best efforts, you caught sight of it, the red tip, the precum making his length shine, the wrinkly, darker skin of his balls, his blond pubes.

You cringed, distaste evident upon your face, and you heard Katsuki chuckle darkly before his hands grabbed your hips, dragging you forward.

“What, don’t fucking like what you see? Am I not to your taste? I’ve fucked whorebag princesses less fussy than you. Get over yourself.” He spat, before taking a hand off your hip, reaching underneath you to line himself up as his other hand kept you lifted.

You trembled in his hold, twitching and swaying to the side, but this was unavoidable.

A gasp left your lips as he entered you, tip slipping through your folds, teasing into your wet hole, stretching you out.

Katsuki let out a groan, slowly dropping you down until he could remove his hand from his cock, returning it to your hip, guiding you to push further down. You felt disgusting, his cock sliding against your velvety insides, dirtying your walls with leaking precum.

When your sit bones rested against his upper thighs, his cock resting fully inside you, it felt impossible to breathe, your chest rising to draw in air but failing, the distress you felt upon being speared open seemingly too much for your body to handle.

“Fucking hell, you’re so tight. You got a dirty little cunt, don’t you? Feels fucking amazing.” Katsuki groaned, moving his hips minutely, relishing the grip your inside had on his cock, how warm you were around him.

“Ride me, will you? I’m getting bored down here.” He snapped after a moment, delivering a harsh slap to your rear to emphasize his words, spurring you into tentative action.

Problem is, you didn’t want to.

Your palms rested against his heated chest, eyes raising to the ceiling as your cheeks burned. This was embarrassing, you couldn’t do this. You couldn’t be an active participant in your violation. What would that make you?

“Oi, princess - I don’t got all night.“ Katsuki growled, landing a significantly more-jarring hit to rear, hard enough to make you squeak and jump, hips twitching at the sensation of his cock moving around your pussy at the movement.

Afraid of more forceful repercussions, you started to move, slowly sliding up, then down, creeping along, hoping it’d be enough to satisfy the man.

It wasn’t.

Katsuki grumbled something under his breath, before tightening his hold on your hips, planting his feet in the furs, then plunging into you with force. The sudden movement jostled you, and you fell forward with a cry, head bouncing onto Katsuki’s chest by your hands, the man groaning as he found a satisfactory rhythm.

“There we go, that’s fuckin’ nice.”

You cried into his chest, hands clutched into fists as you were bounced up and down, the led slap of skin too loud and jarring in the tent. The paint on Katsuki’s body was beginning to smear, sweat dampening his skin and letting the paint drip onto the ground, transfer to your own skin.

It was starting to feel good, make your stomach tighten, limbs tremble with pleasure instead of fear, and you hated it.

Slick sounds reached your ears, out of rhythm with Katsuki’s quick prods. It was wet, pulsing, as if someone-

Gasping breaths reached your ears, not from the man grunting beneath you.

Another round of cold fear dampened your arousal as you honed in on the sound, realizing it was coming from the other side of the screen.

Someone was on the other side of the screen, listening in to the Barbarian King taking you against your will.

A stuttered cry left you when Katsuki pushed too hard, hitting your sweet spot, making you clench and shudder, forgetting about the other person for a second.

But they were so loud, little gasps and moans, and the shlick, shlick, shlick, was getting faster and faster, it was impossible to ignore.

Should you try to tell Katsuki? Would he stop? Would he be mad? It was so disturbing, knowing someone was sitting on the other side of the screen, jerking themselves off so obviously .

“Katsuki-Katsuki wait, oh-“ You started, quickly cut off by a series of battering thrusts against your sweet spot.

But you had to try again. “Wait, sto-o-op, wa-unh, unh, Katsuki pl-mmh!”

“Shut up, I don’t fucking care.” The man snapped, out of breath.

“But there’s-oh…. Katsuki there’s someo-“

“I don’t /fucking care/.” Katsuki reiterated, gritting his teeth. He shut you up with another perfectly placed push against your sweet spot, and a cruel spank against your already-stinging ass.

“Ow!” You yelped, clenching up. It was clear now, that Katsuki was aware of the listener, he just didn’t mind. Maybe he got off on it, knowing someone was listening to him take apart his latest conquest.

Clenching up was the wrong response, because the Barbarian King swore, before his hips sped up, bouncing you so violently on his lap that you found it hard to breath, barely able to hang on for the ride.

“Oh…. (Y/N)….” The voice behind the screen moaned lowly, almost whispering.

It was Izuku.

You shivered, at the sound, feeling creeped out with the knowledge that the gentle, timid “interpreter” was listening. He must have returned at some point from dumping out the basin. You were feeling revolted by this entire situation, disgusted with Katsuki, Izuku, and most importantly with yourself.

Pleasure was building quickly in your stomach, zapping up into your chest, making you tingle and shake with the sensations assaulting your body.

“Sit back, fucking sit back-“ Katsuki panted, pushing at one of your shoulders to push you up, so he could see you as he fucked up into you, watch your body move, your face contorting in pleasure.

You felt like you couldn’t help it, your eyes closing, mouth falling open to let out girlish, high-pitched moans.

Your breasts were being jostled, jiggling up and down with the movement of your body, and it hurt. Hands moved to hold them, stopping their bouncing, but Katsuki appreciated the view apparently, because he groaned, pushing his head back while still trying to watch you.

“Fuck, that’s so hot. Keep touching yourself princess, keep moaning like a little slut. Let Deku know how fucking good I’m making you feel.”

Your body didn’t give you a choice, noises being pushed from your throat involuntarily as Katsuki pounded into you, red eyes trained on your frame, intense and unwavering.

An orgasm ripped through you, seemingly out of nowhere despite the steady buildup of it the past few minutes. You gasped, breathing catching in your throat, hips furiously grinding down against Katsuki’s as you rode it out, trying to stimulate your clit to intensify the feeling.

The noises leaving you were perverted; wet gasps, little squeaks and long moans as you fucked yourself onto Katsuki’s cock, previous hesitance forgotten in preference of chasing your pleasure.

Katsuki swore underneath you again, rabbiting his hips up into you in response, breathing raggedly as he neared his own release.

You were so lost in feeling the sensations in your own body, you didn’t register the stuttered groans on the other side of the screen, the speedy clicking of Izuku jerking himself through his own orgasm, the almost-silent spatter of his cum hitting the screen.

Katsuki swore once more, a vehement “Shit, shit!” before he pulled out quickly, orgasm apparently catching him by surprise, the first few warm strings of cum shooting into your warm cunt, adding to the wet mess of your own orgasm.

The rest was aimed onto the puffy lips of your slit, one of Katsuki’s hands leaving your hips to pump his cock as he gasped, hips twitching upward at the sudden temperature change from your burning heat to the air of the tent.

Then there was just the sound of three people breathing heavily, completely spent, sweaty and dirtied from sex.

Katsuki pulled you down onto his chest, chuckling breathlessly as he brought his clean hand to your head, ruffling your hair tiredly.

“Well, you’re a goddamn catch, pussy’s like a fuckin’ vice.” The crude comment made your cheeks color, but as exhausted as you were, you couldn’t find the energy to offer a rebuttal.

“I think you’re gonna stick around for a while.” Katsuki mused, and you felt your heart drop. “Yeah, you’re a keeper. Maybe if fuckface over there-“ The blond slapped at the screen “-can stop being a pervert, we could actually fuck without feeling creeped out.” He growled, although the blonde didn’t sound irritated in the least.

A small “Sorry Kacchan” was whispered from the other side of the screen, and Katsuki laughed dryly.

“Tell you what bastard, maybe I’ll let you touch her a bit.” Katsuki said, a hand creeping down to knead at your ass. “Then you don’t have to act like a little freak. Who knows, maybe I’ll even let you fuck her if you do good translating those maps we found. Got it, you little shitnugget?”

“Mm, alright Kacchan.” Came the tired response.

You were barely awake, already drifting off on Katsuki’s warm chest, too preoccupied with the red and gold paint no doubt smearing against your cheek than with the conversation going on around you.

You could panic about that later.

#fun skunk story #srsly the air was so thicc #it made my eyes water and my stomach cramp #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #barbarian #barbarian katsuki #barbarian bakugou #tw dubcon #tw noncon #dark bakugou #kidnapping #captive #blood #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere

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s1ater · 3 years

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hiii i saw that you write cobra kai imagines and i was wondering if you could do a miguel imagine in which the reader is best friends with robby and has developed feelings for him while miguel still likes sam, so the reader and miguel start fake dating and emd up catching feelings for eachother?🥺💞

failure to plan, part one. miguel diaz x reader

summary 📣: above :)

warnings 🚫: gif not mine, swearing

slater’s note 🗯: also there will be A PART TWO I PROMISE

“i have a plan.”

you looked up from your textbooks, seeing a very hyper miguel, his hands pressed down onto the table, inches across from you.

you press your lips into a thin line, narrowing your brows up to the boy, your head slightly quirked to the side, “what’s your plan?”

miguel pulled out the seat in front of you, causing you to begin to close your books and set them to the side, giving him your divided attention.

“i need to be with same,” he said straight forward, folding his arms against the cold, blue plastic table, “i’m done constantly chasing after her.. wondering whether or not she likes me the way i like her still.”

he paused giving you time to process his words as he tried to think of what to say next, how to form his words while your lips pressed back into a line.

you didn’t know miguel that well... well you did but he was more or so an acquaintance than anything else. you had found yourself noticing him a lot more the moment him and robby had began to get along, causing your whole friend group to pull closer together, that being, sam, you, tory, robby, demetri, eli, and miguel.

he was a funny kid, one you could put a lot of trust into if you needed to.

“i know you like robby,” he paused, looking down at the table as if he was slightly ashamed for knowing this information, and you yourself were slightly shocked, but you stayed silent, resisting the urge to open your mouth. “i see the way you look at him, i know you like that kid just as much as i like sam.”

robby. that “kid” was your best friend and you had very valid reasons as to why you liked him, one being as to he was there for you since day one. robby didn’t have a lot of trust in people, nor did anyone seem to trust him... but you.

you had met him at a skating rink where you had just about fallen on your ass if he hadn't swooped in and caught you by the arm, keeping you on your feet and away from falling into a deep pit of hurt and scratches.

he taught you things, you kept him out of trouble, you kept each other alive and in your well beings. you couldn't have asked for a better friend nor would you ever think about replacing him.

that’s why it was hard for you to realize that you thought of him more than just a friend. the thought of ruining what you had with for something that might not even be a possibility, that being; him liking you.

“yeah, okay, so you know that, what about it?”

“i have a proposition.”

“get to the point.”

you didn’t intend for anything that came out of your mouth to be rude, but the fact that he knew something so personal, something that you wouldn't even tell your mom or girl best friend about made you uncomfortable, on edge. what else did he know?

it was ridiculous to feel so attacked by miguel diaz because really, the kid was sweet, he had no attentions in being harmful, but you just couldn't stop your mind from caving in on itself.

“fake date,” he said it straight forward making you curve your head a bit in confusion and in thought, wondering whether or not your heard him right or if you were really going crazy faster than you thought.

“huh?” “fake dating,” he repeated, “it’s the only way to tell whether or not if i’m wasting my time, but i don’t think i am, i just know she likes me back but i need to push her a bit.” “so you want to make her jealous?” he nodded his head, waiting for you to say something, waiting for you to say ‘yes’.

“what’s in it for me?” “works both ways.” “yes, but i don’t think robby likes me like that, that’s why i haven’t said anything to him about it-”

“y/n,” he cuts you off, wanting to slow down the oncoming rambling that was about to spill out of your mouth in one big mess, “guy best friends usually like their girl best friends. robby just needs a push as well.”

it made you bit your lip in thought, eyes racing back on the table top before you. the idea he presented before you was either a really good one... or a really, really bad one.

“i’ll think about it,” you got up quickly, grabbing all your books before rushing out of the library.

°•

monday came rather fast, making you think you didn’t have nearly enough time to think about miguel’s proposition. you knew he would probably would want an answer, especially due to the fact that you had ignored all his phone calls and texts.

hanging out with robby all weekend hadn’t necessarily gave you any clarity either. it was the only thing on your mind as you the two of you went to the skate park and his dad's apartment, and mr. larusso’s home, and the food court, and anywhere and everywhere. the only thing.

you begun to feel bad because twenty minutes into hanging out he had noticed, giving you hard time about it as time continued on it seemed to have been a repetitive thing.

“what’s on your mind, kid?” “uh, nothing.”

all you could say was you felt bad.

you hustled down the hallway, trying your best to maneuver yourself around the teen bodies that filled the hallway like a small box. it was hot and stuffy and you felt your heart all high in your chest as you tried to spot for something familiar, spot robby.

you continued down the hallway before hitting a clearing a relief hitting you and lightening up on your chest, analyzing your environment before planning out how you’d get to your next class.

you rounded a corner, five feet away from your physics class before you felt the weight of your body being pulled back in your past tracks.

and you almost smacked whoever did so before realizing it was miguel, a relief coming over you as you sighed, sinking your shoulders back into a more relaxed position.

he slightly laughed, letting go of your arm, “relax, it’s just me.”

you rolled your eyes, nodding him off, “what do you want?”

“i want an answer.”

“what?” you almost resisted the urge to play dumb but the words just fell out of your mouth, think it would give you more time to make up your mind.

“you know what.”

“yeah, i don't know,” you turned around but he grabbed onto your shoulder quickly before flipping you back around.

“y/n,” he gave you a pointed look that made you even more anxious than you already were.

you bit the inside of your cheek, hoping the answer would just come to you right in that moment, but it didn't. there was just some part of you that just didn't understand, maybe that was what was holding you back due to the lack of clarity on the situation. what did “fake dating” even entail? what would you have to do? and why you? what was so special about you other then the fact that you were just as helpless as he was to getting the person he liked to like him back.

but so what? there were hundreds of girls like that at your school.

you exhaled, almost rolling your head down in shame, “you know what, fine, i’ll ‘fake date’ you... but you have to tell me why.”

“what do you mean, why?”

“why me, miguel?”

he rolled his eyes as if it should have been the most obvious thing in the world, “i already told you, we both have people we like-”

“yeah but there’s other people in this school in that exact situation,” you extended out your arm, getting worked up for basically nothing.

miguel rolled his eyes again before taking a step forward, “we can talk about this later, meet me in the library later.”

and he walked off.

°•

“hey, can i give you a ride?”

three o’clock arrived like clock work and after seven classes of hell you walked out of your last one, completely exhausted and ready to go home, but remembered you still had to meet miguel in the library.

it had been bearing on your mind all day, that you just wished you could forget about it and go home with robby like he offered.

“no, i can’t,” you mumbled, diverting your body to face robby as the two of you neared the exit of the school.

“why not? got a hot date or something?”

“something like that,” you smiled just as he did.

“alright, i’ll see you later,” he gave your arm a tight squeeze before walking out the doors, waving as he continued out onto the parking lot.

“lord, help me.”

°•

“no strings attached, you don’t have to call me at twelve in the morning when your crying nor do i have to call you when i get hurt or some shit,” miguel was straightforward, he pulled out his phone and began reading from a list off of it, like he had had this planned way before even deciding to talk to you about it. “we’re here to make people jealous, not get attached.”

you nodded, trying to process all the things he had said in the past ten minutes about what was to go down with the two of for however how long it would take before either sam or robby broke from underneath the pressure of you two “dating”.

miguel already had the week planned and you were slightly grateful that he knew what he was doing because you sure as hell didn't.

“i’ll take you out to the mini golf place so then it’s public, you know? it’ll seem more official and that way people will see us together...” he continued on by saying, “we hold hands, kiss in the hall, and do all the cheesy couple shit.” “thought you were a sucker for that stuff,” you hummed, raising your eyebrows, slightly shocked by him bad mouthing all the “cheesy shit” that couples do, the type of shit you would see him doing in the halls with sam when they were still a thing.

he rolled his eyes, “whatever, we got a deal?”

you watched him raise his hand, reaching across the table for your own... and you took it, nodding your head still lost, but content now.

“we have a deal.”

masterlist

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spidernerdsblog · 3 years

Text

You’re a Sunflower (Part 2)

A/N : as some of you requested a second part here is it. I tried to incorporate all of the ideas you sent. Hope you like it. Let me know what you think.

Part 1

Pairing : Peter Parker x Reader

Summary : you finally come out of coma.

Warnings : none��

Peter’s phone rang the caller id flashing with Mr Stark’s name as he receives the call

“Hey Mr. Stark”

“Hey kid, where are you?” his voice sounded a little wary.

“Uh I’m at a college party. Is everything alright?” Peter frowns.

“Uh Peter you might want to be here at the compound right now”

“Anything wrong?”

“It’s Y/N” Peter felt his heart clench at it as an unknown fear gripped him.

“Y/N? What happened to her?” he asks restlessly.

“Things don't seem pretty good you should come as early as possible” Peter ends the call immediately without wasting time he rushed out of the party. Reaching the compound he runs out of the elevator to go to your room.

“Y/N! Y/N!” he pants as he finds your room empty.

“Peter..” Tony places a hand on his shoulder.

“Mr Stark where’s Y/N?” he turns to him with tears in his eyes.

“She has been shifted to the emergency room, her vitals were fluctuating massively. We have called in the best team of doctors and Strange is personally supervising everything. All will be fine kid” Tony tries his best to calm him down just then Strange and Banner walk out of the emergency room.

“What is her condition now Strange?” Tony asks.

“Nothing satisfactory. The toxin levels in her brain are just increasing by time we are trying to lower it but she isn’t responding to any of the drugs. If it deteriorates further I’m sorry to say but she might suffer a multi organ failure” Strange informs sadly.

“Mr Stark what if you give my blood to her? The spider venom in it will quickly heal her” Peter sounded desperate as he proposes the idea to them.

“Peter, are you forgetting that your father genetically modified the venom which is only compatible with his bloodline. Your blood will just worsen her condition” Tony says disapprovingly.

“I know but you’re the genius Tony Stark. Can’t you and Bruce think of a way to reverse engineer it and make her DNA compatible with my blood?”

“It's impossible Peter it will take days, we even don’t know if it will even work or not and Y/N is running out of time” Banner points out.

“No, no there’s got to be some other way” he rambles pacing up and down the room.

“Peter, listen, you need to calm down” Tony advises.

“How can I calm down when the love of my life, my best friend is dying in front of my eyes and I’m sitting here helpless?!” Peter snaps out at him before dropping down on a nearby chair feeling awful at yelling at his father figure like mentor. He was completely broken from inside seeing you in your deathbed. He has lost his parents, his uncle, he doesn’t want to lose you too.

“Peter, we can understand what you’re going through everyone here loves Y/N dearly but you have to stay strong” Natasha sat beside him rubbing his shoulders gently to help him calm down.

“Her pulse is declining” one of the doctors announced

“Charge the defibrillators now” Strange orders as he rushes inside.

“Y/N!” Peter stands up immediately

“No, Peter you can’t go inside” everybody stops him.

“You don’t understand Y/N is dying she needs me” Peter sobbed.

“No one is dying today, get yourself together Queens” Steve orders him strictly.

Peter saw through the glass partition from outside the emergency room, your face covered with an oxygen mask and several wires connecting your body to different machines in the room, the team of doctors surrounding you trying their best in keeping you alive. One of them charged the defibrillator and placed the paddles on your chest. Your body jolted at the shock as everyone observed the monitor with anticipation but unfortunately your heart rate was continuously decreasing. They repeated the process but it seemed to be a futile attempt.

The beeping went slower and the HRM flat lined as Peter stared at it blankly.

Is this how your story ends? No heartfelt conversations, no last goodbyes just you drifting away from him in your sleep forever. The promise you made to each other of growing old together now lay broken. He hates to make this about himself but what is he supposed to do without you? When life gets hard who is he gonna pour his heart out to? Who’s going to cheer him up and make him believe in himself? Will he never get the chance to say how much he loves you? That you’re his ray of sunshine, his sunflower. You lighten up his life with your warmth and love and without you it’s all dark and cold. Tears trickled down his eyes as he watched the doctors give cpr to your limp body.

“Okay one more time” they charged the device and pressed it on your chest. Your body jolted all eyes inside and outside the room trained on the monitor hoping for some miracle to happen and after some nerve racking seconds later the machine started to beep again with kinks appearing in the monitor showing your heart was beating again. Everyone heaved a sigh of relief and rejoiced at it.

Strange and Banner walk out of the room to break the news that you were finally responding to the medicines and the toxin levels have decreased in your body. They also indicated that there may be a slight chance of you to wake up from your coma. Peter refused to go back home and stayed up all night by your side. He had decided to never let you out of his sight anymore.

🌻

Next morning Peter was dozing off beside you half asleep whilst you lay on the bed motionless, the sunlight peeking through the blinders of the window when suddenly you mumbled in your sleep.

“Peter…Peter..” Peter immediately jolted out of his sleep, his eyes wide in surprise and disbelief he thought he may be hearing things due to lack of sleep and then he watched you stir in your sleep there was a surge of emotions inside him as he jumped off his seat.

“Y/N?” lacing his hand to yours he shouted out “Mr Stark! Y/N is awake!”

“Peter..” you mumbled again

“Y/N I’m right here” his voice quivered, holding your hand tighter as tears filled his eyes. You squint your eyes open your pupils slowly adjusting to the lighting of the room and the first thing you saw was Peter’s warm honey brown eyes red and puffy tears streaming down the corners.

“Hey” he sniffles, smiling weakly. You tried to sit up with a groan.

“No, no don’t get up you’re weak” Peter makes you lie down again, your eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings.

“Where am I?” you ask in a raspy voice.

“You’re in the Avengers med facility” he informs wiping his tears with his hands.

“Why? What happened?” you frown as you hold your head a dull ache still persisting. “Why can’t I remember anything? The last thing I recall is you defeated eletro and-and then Harry threw me off the building, I-I was so scared” you rambled. He pulled you in his arms caressing the back of your head gently.

“I know, I know but everything is okay now, you’re safe” he murmured softly, you pulled away to look at him properly.

“Did you get him?” Peter takes a long sigh before breaking the news to you.

“No Y/N and it has been 3 months to that incident” his voice was calm as your eyes bulged out in shock.

“Wait 3 months! But why don’t I remember anything after that?” you were totally lost.

“Y/N you had been in a coma for the last three months” he informs you.

“What?” you looked at him in disbelief

“Yes Y/N I couldn’t save you on time and you were badly injured, the doctors were also unsure that if you were ever gonna recover but finally you are awake now”

“Oh my god..wait, where’s mom and dad? Are they ok? And aunt May?” you badgered him with questions.

“Everyone is fine Y/N and they will soon be here to meet you” he assures you meanwhile Tony came rushing in.

“Peter we heard you..” he stopped as soon as his eyes went to you “oh my god Y/N you’re finally awake” he exclaims in joy as the other avengers walk in the room they were equally happy and relieved that you have finally recovered.

“Welcome back to the land of the awakened” Natasha snickers giving you a warm hug as you smiled widely “Girl you really scared us last night”

Everyone asked you about how you’re feeling to which you had to reassure them several times that you feel fine. Your parents came to visit you along with aunt May; it was indeed an emotional moment for everyone.

Later when everybody had finally left you alone in your room to rest Peter came in with a bouquet of sunflowers in hand. Your face instantly lit up seeing him. You never got the chance to talk to him properly between your parents and friends dropping by to pay you a visit and ask about your wellbeing so you were dying to have some alone time with him.

“Aw you brought me sunflowers?” you chimed and he gave you a warm smile.

“Of course they’re your favourite after all, I actually brought them everyday for you so whenever you wake up you see the thing that makes you happiest” he says putting them inside the vase and then sits beside you.

“Then I have to say it's you who makes me the happiest” you reach out your hand to cup his face he holds it with his hand and softly kisses it.

Tony along with the other avengers were on their way to check up on you but they stopped at the doorway seeing you both.

“Aww they look so cute together again” Natasha gushed while Tony and Steve broke into a smile.

“I’m so happy to see the kid smiling again these past three months had been hell for him” Tony looks at Peter proudly.

“Let’s not disturb them right now and ruin the moment for them” Steve suggested.

“Yeah let them be, they deserve some alone time” Natasha and Tony agreed and went away.

“Ok I know the college applications are closed now but I’m sure Mr Stark can pull some strings and I’ll provide you with all the notes you don’t have to worry about anything ok” Peter says cheerfully.

“Peter I just woke up from a three month coma. The last thing I want to hear right now is about college and exams”

“Ok so what do you wanna talk about?” he scratches the back of his neck nervously.

“Can we just talk about you? How are you?”

“Well now that you’re out of coma I’m good, I really missed you so much” his face drops remembering the tragic night.

“Wish I could say the same if I wasn’t completely knocked out heh” you tried to lighten the mood.

“I was so scared for a moment I thought I lost you forever” he clings onto your hand

“It’s ok Peter I’m here now and completely fine, see” you tried to cheer him up

“No it's not this was all my fault, if it wasn’t for me your life wouldn’t have come in danger. It was to take revenge on me Harry threw you off the building and I couldn’t even save you” he sniffles. You cradle his face with your hands and make him look at you.

“Peter, look at me. it. wasn’t. your fault. do you understand? You had always tried to keep me away from your dangerous life but it was I who insisted to stay by your side and I’m gonna continue doing that” you gazed into his chocolate brown eyes “and as I said before I laugh at the face of danger see I even defeated death for you” you chuckled.

“And that will be the last time Y/N, promise me whatever happens you’ll never put your life in danger for me again, promise me Y/N” he insists as you sigh.

“Okay I promise you” you pull him closer to you as he leans forward to capture your lips. It had been a long time he had felt your soft lips on his as he instantly melted in the kiss. It was so delicate, soft and full of love as tears of joy streamed down both of your eyes.

..................................................................................

#tom holland #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #spiderman #marvel #peter parker oneshot

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fandomfindings · 3 years

Text

Pick Up

Pairings: (Kuroo Tetsurou x Fem!Reader)

Word Count: 2.0K

Warning(s): Cursing, Audacity

Summary: The first time you pick up your daughter from daycare leads to a misunderstanding between you and the staff.

A/N: (DN) = Daughter's Name

----------

"Can we go get ice cream when you pick me up, daddy?" Your daughter asked, kicking her little legs against the booster seat that kept her small body in place in the car.

Kuroo chuckled. Of course, the child was already looking forward to a sweet treat after school. "You're going to have to ask mommy princess; she's picking you up today."

"Mommy's picking me up?" (DN) perked up at the thought, removing her gaze from the window and to the back of her father's head.

"Mhm," Kuroo mumbled lightly. "I have to go on another business trip, so mommy's bringing you to daycare and back home all week," your husband explained thoroughly.

"Yes!" (DN) exclaimed, obviously excited for the change of events. Kuroo was usually the one to take her to and from school, for it fit better with his work schedule than your own.

"You're not going to miss me?" asked Kuroo, feigning hurt, as he looked between his daughter in the car's rear-view mirror and the road.

"I'll miss you, daddy, but mommy never picked me up from school before! I want her to meet all my friends and teachers, and she can see where we play," Your daughter began to ramble about all the things she was excited to show you, all the way until the two had reached her daycare.

Kuroo helped the child from her booster seat and then the car, taking her small hand into his significantly larger one.

"Alright, sweetheart. I'll call you for bed, okay," Your husband said once inside the building, down on one knee to be eye level with his child.

"Okay, daddy. Bye, I love you," (DN) said, grabbing her father's face with her small hands and placing a kiss on his forehead, an action she picked up from exchanges between you and your husband.

Kuroo smiled, reciprocating the action, his big hands taking up almost all of her face. "I love you too, kiddo."

As a worker took the girl to her class, Kuroo called out to her one last time, "Be good!"

"Yes, sir!" your daughter yelled back, turning around to wave her father goodbye.

Kuroo stood, ridding his suit of any dirt that may have stuck to him while he was on his knee. He was about to leave when someone spoke up to catch his attention.

"You're very good with her," said one of the workers. Kuroo often saw her when dropping off or picking up your daughter. They made small talk now and then, but he couldn't even remember the poor lady's name.

"I would hope so," Kuroo chuckled awkwardly, not sure how to respond to the supposed compliment.

The worker laughed back, almost too much in Kuroo's opinion considering the remark wasn't very funny.

"Yeah, I respect you for taking such good care of her, especially since," The woman began but was interrupted by the ringing of Kuroo's phone, a unique ringtone he had in place just for you.

As soon as he heard the tone, Kuroo didn't hear the rest of what the employee had to say. Unbeknownst to him, it was about him being a single father, which wasn't true by any means.

"Yeah, babe?" Kuroo answered, turning to leave the building, completely forgetting the previous conversation, too excited about hearing your voice.

"Bye, Mr.Kuroo!" shouted the lady, trying one last desperate attempt to get his attention.

He gave a simple wave of his hand back before leaving the building entirely.

"Who was that?" You questioned, hearing the voice even through the phone.

"One of the workers at (DN)'s school," Kuroo explained, uninterested. "How are you this morning, my love?" he asked, changing the subject to something he was actually interested in, you.

"Babe, let me tell you!" You exclaimed, getting ready to rant about your morning thus far, causing Kuroo to chuckle.

The rest of your day went off without too many more hiccups. You met Kuroo for lunch just before he left for his business trip. There you gave final goodbyes to your dismay, but you knew you would see him soon.

After work, you headed to your daughter's daycare, excited to see her cute little face again. Once there, you parked and headed inside to a front desk as Kuroo instructed.

"Hi, how are you?" asked an employee as soon as you reached the desk.

"I'm alright, and you?"

"I'm well. Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Yes, I'm here to pick up (DN)," You stated using the sign-out sheet Kuroo had also instructed you to do.

"Kuroo (DN)?" The worker clarified, verifying your name after you completed the sheet.

"That's her," you smiled at the mention of her name.

"Of course, I'll get her right away."

"Thank you," you said politely to the retreating employee. As you waited, you pulled out your phone, seeing a picture from Kuroo looking bored in a meeting. Grinning to yourself, you replied with some words of encouragement.

"Are you her nanny?" asked a sudden voice. You looked up to see it was the other worker who was at the desk. You hadn't paid much attention to her since she didn't address you when you first arrived.

"I'm sorry?"

The woman asked again, "Are you (DN)'s nanny?"

"Ha no, I'm her mother," You replied, thinking it was funny that she thought so. Looking back to your phone, you were about to send a joking text to Kuroo about being the 'nanny', not finding a reason to continue the conversation.

Unfortunately for you, the woman continued it anyway, "You're her mother?" questioned the worker skeptically.

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Am I sure I'm her mother?" You asked, voice rising in volume slightly, almost appalled she would ask such a thing. The employee nodded, not daring to ask you again. "I'm pretty sure, considering I've raised her since she was born. Would you like to see her birth certificate?" You challenged.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I'm going to have to call Mr.Kuroo just to verify," said the woman picking up the phone before you could even say anything.

"Mr.Kuroo? You mean my husband."

"Your husband?"

"Yes, my husband. (DN)'s father," You simplified, hoping the words would sink into her seemingly thick skull.

"Yes, hello?" Kuroo answered the phone, confused. He had (DN)'s school saved in his phone, but they never called him before.

"Hi, Mr.Kurro, I'm sorry to bother you. I know you're a busy man," the woman said apologetically, her tone and demeanor changing as soon as Kuroo answered the phone. She even had the gall to twirl the phone cord like a lovesick teenager. It made your blood boil. "I just wanted to let you know there is a woman here claiming to be (DN)'s mother."

"That's my wife," Kuroo answered easily, knowing you were heading to the daycare straight after work. "Is there a problem?"

The worker was a bit stunned, her view of the man changing instantly, she didn't know he was married, how embarrassing. "No sir, not at all," She replied, stuttering out a bit towards the beginning.

"Good. Please refer any further calls or concerns to my wife, please," Kuroo said before immediately hanging up the phone, needing to get back to his meeting.

"Yes, sir," the employee responded despite the lack of your husband on the call.

The woman looked up to you, mouth slightly ajar as if she was about to say something, but nothing passed her lips. Before she could say anything, hopefully, apologize for her behavior (DN) made her appearance.

"Mommy!" exclaimed your daughter's voice as soon as she saw you. Leaving the grasp of the other, more likable employee, she ran towards you, wrapping her small arms around both your legs.

"Hi, sweetheart!" You exclaimed, matching the child's energy, sinking to her level to wrap her in your arms. "How was your day?" You questioned, taking the time to glare at the lady who dared to question your role in your daughter's life.

"It was great! I went outside with my friends, and we read that book that you and daddy read me at bedtime." said the girl. "I even got to point at the pictures for the rest of the class."

"That sounds lovely, baby." You said, standing up and taking your daughter's hand. "Why don't you tell me the rest on the way home?"

"Can we stop for ice cream?"

"Did you get a green sticker today?" You asked, walking towards the exit of the building.

"I got gold!" Your daughter corrected the pride evident in her voice.

"Whoa, a gold! I think that calls for extra toppings."

"Yes!"

In a sickly sweet tone, you turned back to the unkind worker and said, "You have a good day."

You spent the rest of your day spending time with your daughter. After getting ice cream, you two went to the park for a bit and then home to get her cleaned up and ready for dinner. You cooked a meal both of you enjoyed to cheer you up and keep (DN)'s spirits high, though that was rarely a problem.

At bedtime, Kuroo called as promised and listened to your daughter rave about her day. You two read her to sleep, per usual.

Now it was just you and your husband, and now you were ready to talk about the altercation at the daycare. You had filled your husband in a bit via text, but it was nothing like a good old rant.

"It was fucking ridiculous! She's my daughter!" You yelled, pacing the large room you and Kuroo shared."I shouldn't have to explain myself to her. Who does she think she is?"

"I know, darling I think she was just trying to make sure you weren't trying to abduct a child," Kuroo tried to reason to calm you down.

"Bullshit. The other worker verified me. I'm on the emergency contacts list. They have my picture!" You explained, listing off the reasons why what the worker did was disrespectful and honestly unprofessional.

"Do you know what I think it is?" You rhetorically asked.

"What's that, love?"

"I think she likes you. She was obviously flirting during that call earlier."

Kuroo, genuinely not knowing this information asked, "Was she?"

"Yes! Blatantly so. She wasn't even trying to hide it, and I was right in front of her. Me! Your wife!" You shouted, trying to piece together what the woman was thinking, but it was honestly giving you a slight headache. "Did she not see the ring on my finger? The ring on your finger? The audacity of that bit-"

"Alright, alright, hey, calm down."

"Uh, it's just so upsetting," You said, mood going from anger to dejected. "Am I not in (DN)'s life enough? Do I need to do more?"

Kuroo sat up in his chair, staring at the phone as if he could see you. He should've video called you instead. "Hey, don't talk like that; you do plenty," Kuroo said firmly. "I just so happen to be the one who drops her off and picks her up. That's just how our schedules work. We're both busy, love."

"I know. You're right," You agreed, not being able to deny how busy you two are. "Maybe I should start doing drop off or pick up," You suggested. "I'm her mother, and they need to know that."

"I'm sure they do by now," Kuroo teased. "We'll talk more about this when I get home, okay."

You groaned, realizing he wouldn't be home until the end of the week."Can't you come home now?" I need you after such a rough day."

"I wish I could. I do," Kuroo said sadly. He really did wish he could be there for you right now. He'd prefer being in bed with you over some hotel room any day. "You know I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Yeah, I know."

You two sat in silence for a bit, both of you too tired to carry out much of a conversation. However, just the knowledge that both of you were on the phone was enough.

After a while, Kuroo spoke up."Go get you some beauty sleep," he said, knowing you would need the rest. "I'll call you in the morning."

"Fine," You sighed. "I love you."

"I love you too."

----------

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading this imagine as much as I enjoyed writing it. This was so much longer than I originally intended but I won’t complain because I love how it turned out in the end. And honestly there’s no such thing as too much Kuroo. Feel free to let me know what you guys think!

Lots of Love <3

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agentdouble0 · 3 years

Text

I posted something HERE About Bobby going up to Eddie and slapping him and basically calling him an idiot. I had every intention to write a fic with him doing that. But instead, this happened.

Bobby knows something is brewing between Buck and Eddie the day they remove the grenade from Charlie’s leg. At first, he was worried because Buck was not exactly subtle in his distaste with Eddie. Then the grenade happened and all sudden they were inseparable, literally. Half the time on calls, they naturally just paired up. So, he sees the writing on the walls, the subtle looks and in some cases lingering looks. Then there is the lack of personal space and the fact that Buck has been helping Eddie Co-Parent Christopher. So, when Eddie mentions an Ana, he is genuinely confused and perhaps he read everything wrong. Except Buck and Eddie keep doing that thing where they look at each other.

So, when they have a moment, he has a whole speech prepared. Have hope it is okay to move on. Of course, you are always going to miss Shannon and perhaps always will. But that does not mean you should not give up on what’s in front of you. To miss out on something real, that could mean something. He doesn’t outright say Buck, but Eddie should know he’s talking about Buck. They spend an excessive amount of time together; he couldn’t be more straightforward than that. Besides why the hell would Eddie assume he’s talking about Ana, for god sakes he looks at Buck as if he hung the moon.

Except, Eddie goes out to breakfast with Ana and then he finds out about Buck’s failed date. And some of the members of the 118 have lost hope in their place in the bet. But Bobby isn’t deterred, and Hen remains determined. Chimney begs if he can back out and have his money back but then changes his mind, when the boys argue over who gets the net gun when they get a call about a turkey on the loose.

So, when Eddie mentions that he has another date lined up with her and that Buck is babysitting he has half a mind to strangle the man because, he’s got fifty bucks riding on this thing and really Eddie can’t be that obtuse and how can Buck also be missing the signs. Because Buck is now getting all cozy with Taylor and perhaps, they were all wrong, except they don’t stop with the eye contact and the touching. Then he hears about what happened with Christopher and he thinks to himself, “This is it, this is when they are going to realize that they love each other.” But then he hears about Eddie introducing Christopher to Ana and Buck is at his doorstep, shoulders hunched, and Bobby feels like he wants to punch someone. He loves Buck like a son and knows that Athena feels the same way. And seeing his son looking so heartbroken, hurts. “Buck,” he says softly.

“I uhh…I’m sorry,” Buck says, voice hoarse, “I didn’t know if-I’m..oh jeez Bobby I’m in love with Eddie and I am freaking out!”

Well crap. Now he feels a little ashamed about his spot in the 118 Buddie Bet.

He’s glad that May and Harry are with their dad before he embraces Buck in a hug and Athena is pulling Buck into the house and ushering him onto the couch. They both work in tandem, Athena covering Buck in a blanket and Bobby pushing a mug of hot cocoa into Buck’s hand. Buck doesn’t say a word, just stares a hole into the floor. “Buck, baby,” Athena says, “do you want to tell us what happened?”

Buck shakes his head, inhaling deeply before letting out a shaky breath. Then Buck is rambling, voice rising on the verge of sounding hysterical, “Do I have to right now, I don’t want to right now, I just figured this out right now and I think it’s always been there and now I don’t know what to do with information and I really just-”

“Buck, Buck!” Bobby yells alarmed, “It’s okay, it’s okay!” as he takes the mug from the man’s hands it to Athena and gathers Buck into his arms in a tight hug. He doesn’t much else, just lets the younger man let it all out. It doesn’t take long before he feels Buck’s breathing even out indicating that he’s fallen asleep. With some help from Athena, Bobby manages to slip out from under Buck and they lay him down onto the couch. Athena places a gentle kiss on Buck’s temple before covering him with a blanket and they both retire for the night.

Buck is gone before they wake up the next morning, the blanket folded on the couch with a note, laying on top: Sorry for coming in late and thank you for letting me stay the night. Please, please don’t tell anyone. Love, Buck. When Bobby tries to flag Buck down the next morning, he tells him, “I don’t want to talk about it, not right now.” So, Bobby leaves him alone and he watches as Buck pulls away from Eddie. And he watches Eddie’s face turn from confusion to sadness as the day drags on. Great, just great.

Hen and Chimney have noticed the tension and so have the other firefighters. Buck starts sitting next to Hen rather than Eddie when they sit down to eat. During calls Buck requests if he can drive, or even sit in the front seat. The last straw was Buck grabbing Chimney by the arm and dragging him down the stairs saying it was important, after he saw Eddie walking towards him. They all find out later that the very important topic was whether the baby would enjoy a stuffed giraffe or a stuffed elephant as from Uncle Buck. And this question is very important because this stuffed animal could be the baby’s best stuffed animal friend.

So, here they are now in the locker room, just Buck and Eddie. Anytime Buck tries to escape, Eddie anticipates his every move. They seem to be keeping their voices low, but Bobby can tell that Buck is wanting out, by the way his hands keep shaking at his side and opening and closing into a fist. “Come on Buck,” he can hear Eddie says as he jogs closer to the locker room, “just, can you tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it? Please?”

“It’s fine Eddie, it’s not you-”

“Oh, don’t give me that it’s not you it’s me bull shit!” Eddie shouts

“But Eddie, I swear it’s just, I got a lot going on and I just, I need time.”

“I get that, but Buck, you won’t even look at me or even sit next to me? Did I do something wrong?”

Buck shakes his head, “No, um you didn’t”

“Then why are you avoiding me? Is it because of what happened with Chris? I’m not mad about that”

“No, it's not about Chris-”

Bobby chooses that moment to enter, because he can see the panicked look in Buck’s eyes, “Hey, is everything okay?” Buck chooses that moment to escape, bolting out of the room.

“I think I lost my best friend, Cap,” Eddie whispers as he watches Buck go, “I don’t even know what I did wrong, he won’t talk to me.” Bobby stays silent and he watches as Eddie sulks out of the locker room.

Bobby learns that Eddie had broken up with Ana two days later when Eddie shows up at his doorstep, hands in his pocket looking lost. Damn these boys he thinks to himself as he lets Eddie into his home. “Tell me what happened?”

“I did what you said Bobby, I took a chance, and it blew up in my face. Chris was mad, then he liked her and now he doesn’t and Buck, he won’t even look at me or talk to me.”

The Captain sighs as he leads Eddie toward the dining table and orders him to sit down. Athena eyes the younger man suspiciously before turning to her husband. They share a silent conversation with their eyes and Athena knows why he’s here. She begins making some tea before handing Eddie a mug and Bobby one and seats herself down. “I took your advice Bobby, I put myself out there and it got me here. My son mad, Buck won’t even talk to me and Ana well she took the breakup well and I don’t even know how to process that too, in fact she seemed to know something I didn’t.”

“Eddie,” Bobby says, “you keep saying you took my advice, remind me again what did I say?”

“You said that I could miss out on a chance to have something else, something real.”

“Eddie,” Athena cuts in, “think really hard for a moment, perhaps Bobby didn’t mean Ana, perhaps he meant someone else.”

“Someone you already have in your life, someone else you already know,” Bobby adds in

“Buck,” Eddie whispers and suddenly he’s up like a shot out of the chair, “I have to go,” he says hastily as he runs towards the front door before skidding to a stop and backtracking to the table. He gives a hug to Bobby and Athena, “Thanks!” he shouts then he’s out of the house the front door slamming shut.

“These boys,” Athena sighs.

Eddie and Buck arrive together the next morning, shoulders bumping sharing soft smiles. Bobby tries to ignore the red mark that can be seen on peeking out from the collar of Buck’s shirt, but Hen and Chimney don’t. They tease Buck and Eddie looks so smug, but it with the two men finally getting their act together the atmosphere in the station shifts. Everything is back to normal. Eddie corners Bobby later that morning after breakfast a smile on his face as he hugs him tightly, “Thanks Bobby,” he murmurs.

“You're welcome,” Bobby replies, “oh and you owe me fifty bucks.”

“Wait..what?”

Bobby isn’t even mad that he lost the bet, it’s no surprise to anyone that Hen won, he’s starting to think that she is cheating. But he can’t be mad because Buck is back to his normal self, bouncing around the firehouse, smiling and laughing.

“No Hen!” Buck whines, “hey! Give me the controller!”

“Buck!” Hen exclaims, “You can’t keep doing this when we play this game!”

“Eddie! Do something!”

Who cares if he lost, his son is happy and if is also right in his assumption, his future son-in-law is no longer sulking like a toddler. If an intervention needs to happen again, he won’t wait long this time. “Eddie!” Buck laughs out, “hurry! She’s cheating!”

Buck watches Eddie excuse himself from the conversation, he’s having with one of the other fighters to rescue Buck. The man is laughing as he plops himself down next to him. “I don’t understand why you do this all time when you play with her.”

Buck squawks, “Excuse me, I don’t do this all the time!?”

“You do!” Hen and Eddie laugh out

Maybe he won’t need to do an intervention. Eddie is looking at Buck fondly and Buck is grinning back at him. And Bobby knows that grin, Buck is totally going to be the one to propose, he’s calling it.

He called it wrong. Damn, Eddie Diaz.

#buddie #buddie fanfic #911 fox #bobby nash #Eddie Diaz #evan ‘buck’ buckley #firefam #outsider pov

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buckyjustbelikethat · 4 years

Text

The Fiction of Fairytales: Chapter Three

Title: The Fiction of Fairytales: Chapter Three

Characters: Stucky x Reader

Summary: (a/b/o au that is non-cannon compliant) After being captured and forced to live as Brock Rumlow’s mate for years you are kidnapped by the Avengers. They plan to interrogate you for information on Hydra and Rumlow, but after Steve and Bucky realize they are your true mates, they realize that their kidnapping was more of an unexpected rescue.

Warnings: Mentions of assault, kidnapping, death, and abuse, and strong language.

Word Count: approx. 2300

A/N: Hello everyone! 💕 I feel like it’s always hard to get myself to start writing but once I do I become so into the story, which is why I’m not sure how long this series is going to be 😂 I hope you all enjoy the new chapter!

Previous Chapter

You woke up hours later and saw your mates in their uncomfortable chairs beside your hospital bed, sleeping against each other. With no fear of meeting their gaze, you sat there and finally had a chance to memorize all their features. Sleep kept calling you back, but you fought back for as long as you could. In disbelief that somehow your mates seemed to be ethereal.

You fell back asleep and when you woke up in the morning Steve and Bucky were already up. There was food placed beside your bed, which you assumed was waiting for when you woke up. They were talking in hushed voices, trying not to wake you, but the moment you shifted in your bed both of their eyes were on you.

“Good morning, doll.” Bucky spoke gently.

“We brought you food, we weren’t sure if you would like it, we just tried to guess, if you want something different let us know, and we can get it for you.” Steve rambled.

You glanced over at the appetizing looking muffin and fruit that they put beside your bed, unsure why you would be opposed to it. “No, this is great, thank you.” You spoke, your voice raspy and quiet.

“After you eat, we can have the doctor come in and check on you before we bring you to your room.” Steve said.

You nodded in reply, as you started eating the food that they brought you.

“What’s your favorite food?” Bucky asked.

It was a simple question, but it held so much weight, you hadn’t thought in a very long time about what you liked, and you definitely haven’t been asked. “I’m not sure… it’s been a while … I used to like french fries a lot, and ice cream.”

Bucky and Steve smiled back at you, “Well, if that’s what you want you can have it at every meal for all we care.” Steve said.

“Maybe not every meal,” you smiled, “do… do you like them?” Bucky and Steve could tell that it was difficult for you to have the confidence to speak let alone ask them questions, but they were so happy you were trying for them. They cherished every word you spoke.

“We aren’t psychopaths, doll. Of course we do.” Bucky replied incredulously, his voice filled with humor.

You laughed quietly at his reply, and Bucky and Steve the moment they heard your laugh felt at a loss for breath. They could have sworn it was the most beautiful thing they had ever heard. They had to quiet their alpha urge to purr at their mates' improvement. Instead, they gave each other a quick glance, and they could tell they were both celebrating internally.

You all kept making quiet conversation, getting to know each other, until you finished your food. You were surprised at how they never replied harshly to your questions, and always encouraged you to ask and say anything you want. The conversation felt so foreign to you, but you could feel yourself beckoned by a sense of peace, still too afraid to embrace it, but it was there, nagging at you that maybe this feeling is something you could trust, that your mates are people you could trust.

They called in the doctor and stepped out of the room while the doctor gave you a final check before letting you go.

The check in went well, and after the doctor left you could hear her giving care instructions to your mates.

When they entered the room, Bucky asked if you were ready to leave and you replied that you were. Which wasn’t a lie, you knew that you had to leave, and you can’t stay in this hospital bed forever, but you were worried about what will happen when you leave the bubble of this room.

Steve walked up to you and offered you a hand to help you get out of bed, acting out of instinct, but you eyed his hand warily, unsure if you should take it, unsure if you were ready, and after a moment of you staring at his hand with a look of panic covering your face, he retracted his hand as if it had burned you. There was a deep frown covering your face. There was now a new panic inside of you that you angered your alpha.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to be too forward. I didn’t think about it.” Steve spoke flustered, as the alpha inside of him felt wounded by the look on your face at the idea of contact. He didn’t blame you at all, he would never blame you, but he couldn’t help the feeling upset by how traumatized you obviously were.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry.” You replied, you didn’t want him to feel bad.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Steve spoke in assurance, forcing a smile on his face to make sure you felt no guilt.

Bucky stepped in to distract from the tension, “Are you fine to walk? We can get you a wheelchair if you would like one.”

“No, I should be fine, thank you.” You stated as you got up from your bed, your body ached but it was nothing you couldn’t overcome.

Steve led the way as Bucky trailed behind like before, you noticed that even within a day, them surrounding you was starting to feel more protective than intimidating.

When you got into the elevator Steve started explaining, “We have our own floor, and your room is on our floor, like we said before, if you would be comfortable somewhere else just let us know. There’s also a common floor here for all of the Avengers,” Steve said while gesturing to the buttons on the elevator. “You already met Tony, but whenever you’re ready, the rest of them would love to meet you, but only when you feel comfortable.”

“Okay.” You acknowledged his words.

The elevator finally beeped to indicate that you have arrived on their floor. “There are security systems and only certain people are allowed on certain most floors, but we already had Friday give you access to our place and all of the avengers floors.” Steve spoke.

You heard what he had said but you also were in awe of their apartment. It smelled like them, and deep down that made you feel happy. Everything looked so cozy, and it seemed to suit your mates perfectly. Your mates were watching your reaction and pleased that you seemed to approve of their space. They had already started getting better at reading your emotions, and though you wouldn’t say it, they could tell you approved.

They gave you a tour of their whole place, and then showed you to your room.

“Tony ordered you some clothes and necessities and your closet and bathroom should be stocked, but if you need anything else let us know. And I mean anything y/n.” Bucky said the last part as sincerely as he could, trying to assure you through his words. He had to refrain from calling you omega, unsure how you would react to your title being used. He knows that for him and Steve, it’s a term of the utmost affection, but he was worried that that may not be your experience with the word.

“Wow,” you said, taking in how beautiful your room looked, you weren’t used to having your own space, let alone one so nice, “thank you… I...” you got tears in your eyes, the rush of emotions seeming to come out of nowhere. Your life seemed to be flipped within a day and while you still feared that they could flip back just as quickly, you were unsure if you deserved all of this.

“What did you want to say?” Steve asked, not wanting to let you quiet yourself out of fear in any circumstance.

Your eyes cast down to your feet, not sure if they would like you finishing your thought. “I just don’t know if I deserve all of this.”

Both men froze at your words, hurt that you could think so little of yourself. “Of course you do sweetheart, you deserve all of this and so much more.” Steve said, his voice resolute.

“Hydra brainwashed me and forced me to be an assassin. When I finally was able to leave, I had a hard time accepting that I deserved a nice life, that I deserved any joy.” Your eyes shot up at is words, surprised that this person who so far has seemed so loving could think that about himself.

Bucky gave you a soft smile and grabbed Steve’s hand. “Steve was the one that convinced me that I deserved peace and happiness. If I was worthy of that, you sure as hell are, and you have both me and Steve to remind you of that for the rest of your life.” Bucky spoke up as well.

The tears finally trailed from your eyes as you looked back at your new room, once again enticed by the fairytale seeming to play before your eyes. They took your lack of argument as a win, knowing it will take time for you to fully accept it.

“You can get settled in your room, and shower if you need it. The doctor still wants you to rest a lot, so you can either lay in your bed for a while, or there’s always the couch in the living room. We can watch movies and you can rest, but it’s up to you, this is your home now.” Steve said.

“Okay… I’m gonna shower, and then I think I wouldn’t mind watching a movie.”

Your alphas smiled at you, happy that you chose to spend time with them.

“Alright doll, we will be in the living room if you need anything.” Steve said before they walked away. At some point Steve and Bucky knew they will have to go back to work, but they were planning on taking as much time off as they can to spend time with their new mate.

After they left, you shut the door to your new room and decided to investigate before showering. You spent a lot of time in your closet, still shocked that all of these clothes were now yours. After taking it all in you finally decided to find something you felt like wouldn’t be too painful to put on and wear right now considering your injuries. You finally went into the shower, and the warm water felt so relaxing. You don’t remember the last time you were allowed to take a warm shower. You assumed your new alphas would encourage it, rather than forbid you like Brock. It was still a concern, but you were afraid to ask them if it was okay, worried about all their potential reactions.

After you got out of the shower and changed, and as the fog faded from the mirror, you got to take a long look at yourself. Your face still seemed almost grey, but there was some color creeping up. You were distracted though by staring at your bond mark, wondering how your new alpha’s felt about it, you were sure they had seen it, it was hard to miss. Were they as disgusted by the sight as you were?

You weren’t sure, but you couldn’t wait for it to fade. Your instincts were trying to get you to imagine what it would look like with the new marks of your alphas, but you weren’t ready to accept that future.

After you finished getting ready, you walked out to the living room where you saw your alpha’s cuddling on one of the couches. The couch beside them was adorned with pillows and blankets that appeared to be set up for you, and the gesture warmed your heart.

They both smiled at you when they saw you walk in, surprised that somehow after your shower you looked even more beautiful than you were before. “We tried to make the couch as comfortable for you as possible.”

“Thank you.” You replied blushing.

“Steve was telling me there are a lot of disney movies we still need to catch up on, is that something you're maybe interested in?”

You nodded back at them, happy with their suggestion. You don’t think you could handle anything too serious right now. They gave you a few options, and you ended up choosing Tangled.

You spent the day having a disney movie marathon, and you couldn’t lie, it was cute how much these big buff super soldiers were affected by disney movies. Throughout the day they seemed to wait on you, make sure you always had enough food and water, and anything to make you comfortable. Their level of care consistently surprised you, and you surprisingly were able to relax for the day, accepting that at the moment, you didn't seem to be in any danger. After spending another day with them you were enthralled by how they seemed so perfect for each other. The way they held each other showed how much their love for one another. You would catch yourself fantasizing about cuddling with them, to be in peace with them the way they seemed to find it in each other.

When the day was over. Your alphas went to their own room begrudgingly. Not wanting to be separated from you but knowing their disappointment cannot be helped. The room over felt like too far away from their mate. They would almost prefer sleeping on those crappy chairs in the medical wing to this.

They were unaware that when you stepped into your room, you also couldn’t help but feel like your room was cold compared to when you were with them. When you first stepped into their apartment you were overwhelmed by their scents being everywhere, but now your room almost felt like it didn’t smell enough like them. Unlike your mates, you “rationalized” yourself out of your instincts, reminding yourself that they were still alpha’s at the end of the day, and you were still you, and allowing yourself to crave them now might just hurt you even more when it all falls apart.

So, you locked your door behind you, and crawled into your big bed alone.

Tags (open): @dark-night-sky-99 @fallenoutofrose @an-adventureland @xxlikeheavenxx @thisartemisnevermisses @coonflix @fab-notfat @snakesonastarship @thanossucks @yomama-umbridge @grandluminaryearthquake @laughsandlivia @bloo-moon-freak @this-is-a-chilis-drive-thru @sergeantrosabellaswan @rororo06 @rvgrsbrns @catthecreator @6chewwie9 @veganfangirl5 @rachelsfandommess @thinkaboutmara @cookiecat22

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agntofhydra · 4 years

Text

Sawbones // TWO

(gif credit)

summary: Red String of Fate Soulmate AU

Soul mates have a red thread tied to each others pinkies that only one of them can see.

You’re the Resistance’s head medic. You can see the red thread of fate that leads you to your soulmate. Poe doesn’t believe in the soulmate / thread theory. You don’t agree with his tactics, nor does he approve of yours. Leia and Holdo just really want a win.

pairing: poe dameron x reader

rating: mature for later chapters

read me on ao3!

part one here!

read on till the end for notes!

SAWBONES

TWO // PULLED TAUGHT

No.

You hadn’t been avoiding him.

You were busy. Taking inventory, filling out incident reports, stocking, taking care of your patients - which, you noticed, had decreased in number over the last couple days. And you knew why.

Someone must’ve been taking better care of their pilots.

Jasti was released the morning after the whole - for lack of a better term - ordeal. She’d heard your violent retching and had banged on the door, asking if you were okay.

Your vision was white, and after about two rounds you were dry heaving. No fucking way, your mind rattled. The revelation shook you to your core. You were happy being unsuspecting, ignorant of the fact that your soulmate had been pittering around D’Qar for literal months while you sat in your office, pissing off FX-7 and berating their antics in your head. The furrow of his eyebrows, the flicker of concern in his eyes at your sudden change in demeanor when you saw his pinky also had ingrained itself in your mind. Lingered every time you shut your eyes. You must’ve stayed in the refresher for an hour or two, senses numbed to Jasti’s incessant banging on the door.

You also weren’t good with conflict, and a conflict this was indeed.

What were you supposed to do? Tell him? Would he even believe you? Ziff said he didn’t trust the concept anymore, too many girls taking advantage of where he once was soft. Exploited that weakness until it was solid beskar.

So no, you didn’t tell him.

You’d stayed busy. He was busy, too. Per your objections, Leia had him and his squadrons flying more recon and actually formulating a real operation to investigate the cargo ship orbiting around Kessel. You’d heard that from whispers in the hallway, and you didn’t really want to venture out for any updates.

Turns out, you wouldn’t have to.

As if your thoughts had summoned him, Poe was dragging a pilot from blue squadron into your medbay, one of their arms around his shoulder, one of his around their waist. His eyes were searching, panicked until they met yours as you flew from your office and threw the pilot onto the first open bed.

“What happened?” You asked, immediately checking for vitals. His skin was burning, clammy. FX-7 recorded his temperature and your heart dropped at the number.

“We were flying back, literally leaving hyperdrive when I was notified Blue Three was having trouble, and could barely steer his x-wing through D’Qar’s orbit.” Poe paused. “His skin is on fire.”

“I’m aware,” you tried not to bite back as you threw FX-7 an IV bag. You also did not dwell on the fact that Poe didn’t even know this pilot’s name. “Do we have hadeira serum?”

“You did inventory,” FX-7 duly responded as he inserted a needle into the pilot’s basilic vein. Poe cringed and looked away, eyes focused on you instead.

You hadn’t really done inventory, and you were cursing yourself for it now.

“Wait,” Poe frowned. “Hadeira? You think he’s got bloodburn?”

“He’s been in with a fever before,” you muttered as you rifled through the cabinet on the opposite wall. Poe followed, barking over your shoulder.

“And you didn’t ground him?”

You paused, closing your eyes for a second and taking a deep breath before returning to your search. You really didn’t need Dameron on his high horse right now, questioning your calls.

It was only fair. You had done it to him, you reminded yourself. That didn’t mean you couldn’t whip around and land one in the middle of his chiseled, ridiculously handsome and symmetrical face. You groaned audibly at not only your thoughts, but your inability to locate the literal life-saving serum.

“Back off, Dameron,” you said between your teeth as you all but sprinted back into your office where you kept the more valuable medicines. You unlocked the closet behind your desk with your hand and entered, eyes scanning the shelves. Once again, Poe followed.

“What’s wrong, doc? Don’t like it when people question your authority?”

You finally turned to him, slightly put off by the fact he was less than a meter away. You didn’t let it show.

“You wanna do this right now?” You raised your eyebrows. He crossed his arms over his chest and the thread around his pinky was directly in your field of vision. You held back the bile that rose in the back of your throat.

“His fever is so high that his blood is boiling right now. Which will kill him. So please, Dameron. If you think this argument is worth more than me finding the serum and saving his life,” you punctuated each word, “keep talking. But I’m not listening.”

Your eyes caught the vials to the right of his head, and he stepped out of the closet and into the expanse of your office as you grabbed the vials and quickly returned to the medbay where FX-7 had started hydrating the pilot. You handed the droid the hadeira serum and FX-7 made quick work of administering.

You let out a long breath. You weren’t totally in the clear, but it was as under control as it could be. Poe gave you a look and you nodded, silently telling him his pilot was okay. For now.

Poe stared at him for a couple moments longer, and once he was satisfied leaving him in the care of FX-7, he kicked your boot lightly.

“Can we talk now?”

Swallowing thickly, you nodded and led him back into your office. Poe sat down in one of the stark white chairs that matched the rest of your office as you locked the medicine closet. You turned around to him but kept your distance.

“What’s there to talk about?”

He bit the inside of his cheeks to keep him from grinning. “I don’t bite, y’know.”

You rolled your eyes, but nonetheless moved closer to him and sat atop your desk.

The red thread floated between the both of you, moving as if it was being jostled by the air currents in the room. Before you could even think, your left hand went to pluck at the string tied near the base of your finger. To your utmost surprise, the now tangible string pulled back due to your force. You let go in shock. The string vibrated and you watched the movement travel to shake the thread connecting to Poe. He coughed, left hand clenching and unclenching his fingers. You watched the action and met his eyes. Once again, he furrowed his brows.

“Why do you keep doing that?”

It was your turn to furrow your brows, and Poe continued, “Y’know. Looking into space and then turning pale like there’s a rancor in here that I don’t see. And then you look at me like it’s my fault?"

It’s now or never, you told yourself. Come clean.

“It’s nothing.” Coward.

Poe dropped the subject. “Anyways, you must’ve been swamped these last few days because you haven’t checked in to hear any updates on the cargo ship.”

Not trusting your voice, you just shrugged as your eyes rested back on the crimson that connected the two of you. Seeing it was definitely a curse. You tried not to dwell on how different things would be if it was Poe that could see it. What a weight off your shoulders that would be.

Maybe if he could see it, it wouldn’t be you on the other end, the voice in head told you. Poe was still rambling about Kessel and you definitely weren’t listening. You don’t want that, do you? For him to be soulmates with someone else?

It happened all the time though, people ending up with those who they weren’t tethered to. The galaxy was far too huge and vast, many people never having the opportunity to leave their home planet, let alone venture and seek out their soulmate. Some people, Poe included now, saw it as a myth, it was becoming so rare. You’d only ever known one pair of soulmates to meet in the years you’d been alive. Your parents.

Either way, your mind needed to slow down. You didn’t know Poe. From what you’ve seen of him, despite his impeccable physical features, you weren’t really a fan. But...just regarding his physical features? Big fan.

He snapped you out of your reverie. “Stars, you are infuriating.”

You apologized, placing your hands in the front pockets of your medic coat in hopes to ignore the thread, but it stuck out of the material of your pocket instead.

“There’s no harm in collecting more intel,” you told him. “Especially if it saves lives.”

He rubbed his forehead. “There is if it’s time sensitive! The ship could leave Kessel at any moment and then we’ll never know what was on it.”

You snorted. “You said it’s been in your knowledge for a while, been written off until now. I don’t buy it. I don’t know what you’re wanting from me, Dameron, but I won’t apologize. This is how I feel, and General Organa and Vice Admiral Holdo agree with me.”

“I want a common ground,” he said. Your gut twisted. “We met not ten minutes before you blasted me to pieces in that briefing room.”

“I don’t think you’re used to opposition.”

“I’m not.”

“You should always consider every point of view, especially for things like this. Have you heard about the terror running the First Order? You really want to face him in your little x-wing?”

Poe jerked his head. “Do not insult my ship.”

“Stars, Dameron, can you listen to a voice that isn’t your own for five seconds?”

“I was listening, obviously, ‘cause I heard your jab about my ship.” You could force-choke him right now. “But I get where you’re coming from. Where you’re more conservative and safe, I’m intuitive and risky and you hate it,” he said with a smile that met his eyes.

“I would call it impulsive and ill-informed,” you countered. You definitely didn’t hate bantering with him. You noticed subtly that over the course of the conversation, Poe had begun to move closer to you, inching closer and closer to the edge of the chair.

“Astute and adept,” he stood, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his eyes never left yours.

“Reckless and arrogant.” You didn’t want him to come any closer, unsure if you would either retch all over his shoes or bunch up the material of his brown leather jacket in your grip to pull him closer.

As if the stars were listening and answered, FX-7 appeared in the doorway. Your eyes broke from Poe’s, turning your attention to the droid and Poe followed suit.

“Pilot Nunb’s fever has broken,” it said. “He will make it through the night.”

Night? You realized you’d been so consumed the last couple days you’d lost all concept of time.

“Great news,” Poe said, turning from FX-7 back to you. “I need to go tell the rest of blue squadron.” Poe shamelessly looked you up and down.

“‘Till next time, Doc.”

Poe sidestepped the droid in the doorway without another glance at you. You remained on your desk, hands still in your pockets as you watched the thread disappear into the wall as Poe left.

“It is hardly relevant to speak in matters that pertain to humans,” FX-7 began, “let alone ones that concern my superior, but if I may?”

You couldn’t hide your confusion. FX-7 never spoke to you unless it was a medical matter. You nodded for him to go ahead.

“You are consumed with plenty. I caution against adding Commander Dameron to the list.”

You frowned. “FX, do you know about the soulmate thread?” What harm would it be to tell a droid? FX barely talked to you, and chances were zero that the droid would air this to anyone else.

The droid lifted its metal head up and down. “Yes.”

It was the most humanistic the droid had ever been, and you felt mildly miffed. Has FX-7 always been able to not be so robotic? You’d save that thought to be pissed about another time.

“I can see it,” you said quietly. “It’s tied to him.”

FX-7 was silent, motionless for a few moments and it almost seemed like he had powered down. “That is…” he paused. “Inconvenient.”

“Yeah, I know,” you said, hopping down from your desk. Your hands left your pockets to run through your hair as you tried to clear your thoughts and just breathe.

“Is that why you have busied yourself more than usual?”

“Didn’t wanna deal with it,” you nodded. “Still don’t.”

“That will only prove to make things more arduous. You have two options when it comes to Commander Dameron, and you know which I favor. For the good of the Resistance and your work.” FX-7 then left the doorway to your office as promptly as he had arrived.

✗ ✗ ✗

You fell asleep in your office that night, or maybe it was morning by the time you collapsed against your desk. Despite FX-7’s confirmation, you couldn’t let yourself go back to your quarters when the pilot in your medbay was teetering on the cusp of cardiac arrest.

Leia Organa woke you by softly brushing the hair out of your face. Your head lifted instantaneously, a paper stuck to your cheek. You quickly removed it and smoothed down the rest of your hair to at least try and look presentable.

“General,” you regarded her, standing up from your seat. She smiled softly at you.

“Doctor, I apologize for waking you.”

You shook your head and tried not to wince when you peeked at the digital numbers glaring at you upon the wall.

“I needed to be awake, anyways. I’m late for rounds,” you muttered the last part to yourself.

“I came to update you on the operation,” she moved back around your desk and sat down in the seat Poe had occupied only a few hours prior.

“We’ve received intel that the TIE fighters stationed in front of the ship are no longer there, presumably to return to the First Order to refuel or receive maintenance. It’s a narrow window, but Commander Dameron and both Red and Blue squadrons have departed a few hours ago to hopefully investigate that cargo ship.”

You nodded at her words and contained the frown from surfacing on your face. Your stomach knotted, fearing that the absence of First Order protection was all too convenient, and they were falling into a trap.

The First Order was smart, something you had learned first hand. You’d been on their radar for as long as you could remember. The bad guys needed medics, too.

Some of your peers that you had completed medical school with had left to join, and ultimately you couldn’t blame them. The offer was tempting, yet mostly threatening. Most of them joined more out of fear than anything. You had been moments away yourself, but instead you were here. On D’Qar. A vital part of the Resistance. If you were someone who believed in such phenomena, you would swear the galaxy itself had made sure of it.

“Have you heard anything since they left?” You asked.

Leia shook her head, trying to hide her worried expression. “They’re in good hands. Poe is the best pilot I’ve seen since…” She stopped herself. “He’s the man for this.”

“So I’ve heard,” you said. “I hope he proves me wrong. And also brings every pilot back in one piece.”

“Together, I think you two would make quite the formidable pair.”

“With respect, General,” you tried not to snort at her words. “I think it’s better if we keep our distance. Our stubbornness might tear a rift in the galaxy.”

“Or,” she winked. “It could bring it together.”

You had no response.

“I’ll be back should there be any word from Poe, and - “

Leia’s words were cut off by the familiar screech of a x-wings cutting into the atmosphere and landing on the runway.

Wordlessly, the two of you all but sprinted from the medical wing out into the open, expansive area that was the runway. Countless others were surfacing outside, watching the ships land and be courted off into the hangars for repairs. From what you could tell, they all looked fine. No exposed wires or blaster burns. For the most part, the squadrons looked untouched. The last ship to land was Poe’s black and orange T-70.

The second the x-wing was stopped, Poe all but threw himself from the cockpit, shucking his helmet off and chucking it at the ground. BB-8’s body blurred as the droid tried to keep up with his long, quick strides. His eyes met Leia’s first, immediately spurning his feet to turn in her direction. When he eventually realized you were also next to her, his eyes all but physically set you on fire.

You held your breath as he crossed the runway. Poe looked downright dangerous, he was so angry. Leia noticed this too, but did not change her demeanor as she waited patiently for him to come to her, hands clasped behind her back.

“Mission report, Commander Dameron,” she said.

“Can we discuss this somewhere else?” Poe asked as he stopped walking, finally reaching his destination. BB-8 rolled up a second later. His eyes flicked to yours.

“We can, but the Doctor will be there regardless.”

Poe wanted to scream.

“The mission went as smoothly as expected. We were met with no First Order resistance or ambush as we docked and investigated the cargo ship.”

“And what did you find?”

Poe took a deep breath, calming his heartbeat that was deafening in his ears. His fists clenched and unclenched, and unfortunately the thread was still there. Except this time, it was pulled taught between your bodies when it usually sagged with slack.

“We found spice, General.”

Oh.

Maybe you did believe in some higher power. There had to be someone pulling the strings behind this scenario. You wanted to laugh, point your finger and tell him ‘told you so’. But you didn’t, because the tension and anger in Poe’s body was so apparent that it looked like he was a chain pulled so tight it wasn’t a matter of if, but when he would snap.

So you settled for pursing your lips very tightly.

“Nothing else to report?” Leia questioned.

Poe shook his head.

“I’m glad you all made it back safe,” she said, putting her hand on Poe’s shoulder. “It was one mission, Poe. There will be other opportunities.”

He nodded, not meeting her eyes as Leia took her leave. The two of you stood in intolerable silence and you weren’t sure why Poe didn’t immediately sprint off as soon as Leia left.

“I’m glad everyone made it back safely,” you spoke slowly, offering a metaphorical olive branch.

Poe cocked his head, eyes narrowing as he met yours. You braced yourself, waiting for him to maybe pull out his blaster and take you out on the spot.

“Save it,” he said, though his voice didn’t hold the venom you expected. “Do you want me to tell you that you were right?”

You shrugged. “Not required, but I’m not against it.”

He did not accept your poor attempt at lightening the mood. Instead, he sighed deeply and dragged a hand down his face.

“I look like a complete joke . Making such a big deal out of this whole operation, only to be completely and utterly wrong.” He laughed dryly, and you tried not to wince.

“But you know who was right? A fucking medic. The holier-than-thou doctor who doesn’t ever leave her medbay, but the one time she does she completely undermines everything.”

Of course, it was your fault. Poe didn’t want to face the fact that his lack of patience and impulsiveness had forced him and his whole squadron to investigate a cargo ship full of spice. Against your better judgement, you let him continue his diatribe. He continued, berating your position, your lack of expertise and inability to, how did he put it? Stay out of matters that don’t pertain to you. He seemed to have forgotten the minute detail that Holdo had asked for you to be there, even though you reminded him of that fact last night.

After a ridiculous amount of time, Poe eventually stopped to catch his breath. As soon has he did, he tried to continue.

“Not to mention - “

You cut him off. “Are you done?”

He narrowed his eyes. “I could go on all day.”

You crossed your arms. “I’m sure you could. Because you absolutely have the right to completely tear me down when we met for the first time a couple days ago.”

“I’ve heard enough about you,” Poe countered.

“As have I,” you clenched your jaw. “Your reputation precedes your rank, Dameron. You really think you’re going to earn respect and trust around the base when you’re running through every female here? You think that speaks well of your character? You think that’s Commander behavior?”

Poe interlaced his hands on the top of his head as he laughed at you incredulously.

“I can’t even stand to breathe the same air as you right now,” Poe said.

How fucking immature. You narrowed your eyes. “Then stop breathing.”

At your words, the red thread tightened around your finger painfully. So tight, it felt as though it was about to cut through and remove the finger entirely. Your other hand rubbed at your finger - desperately, futilely trying to loosen the string.

Poe watched your action, and then sucked in a breath through his teeth as he grasped as his own pinky in pain. He noticed his movements mirrored yours.

“Wha-” he paused. “Wait - “ Two pieces clicked in Poe’s brain.

But it didn’t matter, because you were already retreating, your steps quick and purposeful. You were fleeing back to the medbay and away from whatever was about to come out of Poe’s mouth. You couldn’t deal with it, not now and probably not ever.

You didn’t miss the way his eyes watched your hands before watching his own, his forehead creasing with confusion, then what you hoped wasn’t realization. You didn’t think your actions obvious, but if he felt the same pain you did, it was impossible not to notice.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, your mind spiraled. Poe called your name, your actual name, but you were too far gone and nothing short of the force would make you go back to him.

This time, your interaction with Poe Dameron didn’t end with emptying your guts in the refresher, but by entering your office and locking it.

Small victories.

thank you all so so so much for all the positive feedback and support!! i love it!!! i’ve gotten a couple requests for a tag list so if you’d like to me to create one / be added to it just send me a message! also, if i made a playlist for this, would y’all be interested? lmk! xoxo.

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #soulmates #soulmates au #red thread soulmates #red thread of fate #medic!reader #star wars #star wars sequel trilogy #mine #slow burn #romance #pre-TFA

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consumedkings-archive · 3 years

Text

WITCHING HOUR, a john seed/deputy fic.

chapter eleven: after you've gone

word count: ~12.6k

rating: m

warnings: canon-typical religious blasphemy, though it's in full-force here with joseph so i wanted it to be noted in the warnings. there are mentions of self-harm, both past and implied presently, and they're not treated very lightly. elliot is having a hard time.

notes: there's a lot of moving parts in this so i apologize in advance if it feels a bit slow, but everything felt really important to include and i wanted to make sure nothing got left out. thank you so much to my beta @starcrier who literally proofed this beast with all of the love in the world.

i won't ramble on too much, but i did want to say that the reception for the last two chapters really made my whole heart just explode and i wanted to thank you all! what an incredible experience it is getting to write these two gigantic idiots. <3

“I saw her. Our mor.”

Helmi cradled the phone between her shoulder and ear, scribbling absently on the side of the file she’d continued nosing through once she’d gotten back to the bunker. Like this, she felt far from Kajsa—farther than she had in the longest time. Maybe since they had welcomed her into the Family.

“Did you?” She stretched back against the truck’s seat, feet kicked up on the dash as she scanned the page, going over her own notes. Starvation, classical condition. On animals and people? In the back seat of the truck, Peaches rumbled her discontent at lack of attention; Helmi reached back and scratched her ears until the rumble turned into what she recognized as a more contented purr.

“Yes. She is doing well. Her color is just as Ase said, you know. Perfectly balanced. Poor John—I can see his suffering.”

Helmi hmm’d, the thoughtfulness matching the patient rumble Peaches had rewarded her affection with.

“Is Deputy Pratt behaving?”

“I should hope so. He has no reason to have any loyalty to the Seeds, outside of fear.”

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. Helmi was sure, in the very marrow of her bones, that Kajsa was smiling.

“And what did you give him, Helmi? To make him loyal?”

She considered. “A more impressive fear.” And then: “Also, I said I wouldn’t kill him.”

“That is just a more impressive fear bundled up pretty, my heart.”

“Mm,” Helmi replied in agreement. Whatever the case, she thought that Pratt had more to gain from fucking the Seeds over than he did by fucking them over—and that’s why Kajsa entrusted this sort of thing to her and didn’t do it herself, after all. If it had been Kajsa here, eyeing Pratt like a piece of lunchmeat, she’d have him drugged to the gills and barely aware of what was going on. Not being of use.

It’s why we make a perfect pair, something inside of her said, joy shared, joy doubled.

“Don’t rest on your laurels.”

Sorrow shared, sorrow halved.

Helmi sighed. “I’m not.”

“Keep putting pressure. I want them squirming, hjärtat.”

“I will.” She paused, sitting up in the truck and glancing out at the remaining members of the Family. Those that hadn’t given themselves a swift, clean death. After Kian’s face was crushed in, Kajsa had gathered them all and said, It’s going to be harder, from here. If you feel you cannot do it, if you think that you do not have the strength to answer our calling, then it is your time. We love you.

It had been the time for many. Morale had been—and still was—low. Ase’s death first, gut-wrenching and tragic, and then Kian’s; worse than the last. Worse, because while he had been grieving, while he had been suffering, he had still been their second-in-command. Meant to be infallible, even more so than Ase. He had been meant to carry them into their next life, after It was appeased. Contented. After It had turned the world to winter.

Now, more than ever, with only a handful of them left to huddle around their fires and sleep in the backs of cars, and kiss and laugh and hug each other in the inky black night, they felt like a ship adrift at sea.

Kajsa’s voice hummed in her ear, plastic and metal vibrating where it lay trapped between her head and shoulder. Helmi’s gaze swept away from the remaining Family members and turned her gaze back to the file. The Seeds were deeply rooted in this place—the tendrils of a tree that might be dead at the trunk but stayed for many decades after, if it wasn’t ripped out at the base.

“Did you hear me, Helmi?”

“No,” she replied truthfully. “I was distracted.”

“I am coming back,” Kajsa reiterated patiently.

“The others will be happy.”

“And what about you? Will you be happy?”

Helmi paused. She closed the file, dropped it back onto the dashboard and cranked the seat back so that she could stretch a little, her eyes tracing the tinny, ancient ceiling of the truck she’d lifted from Eden’s Gate. She exhaled, once, and then held her breath; closed her eyes, felt the ache of it between her ribs.

“I sense before me a lost lamb.”

“Not lost,” Helmi replied, her lungs tight. “Just—thinking.”

“Must I divine the dark cloud over your soul myself?”

She allowed her body to take air back in. “I wonder,” she murmured, “if it will be enough to appease the Father.”

“Do you wonder,�� Kajsa hummed, “or do you worry?”

A moment of silence stretched. And then, the rich, melodic timbre of the Hierophant’s voice came through again, idle and pulled snug against her ear, like Kajsa was really right there again to say the words against her skin: “What will you do, if Staci Pratt defects despite your Machiavellian threats of harm so great he should never consider to incur it?”

“I don’t know,” Helmi replied uneasily. “It would depend on if he brought mor and the interloper, or if he just—”

“The answer, hjärtat, is that you do not know, because it has not been revealed to you yet.” Despite the interruption, Kajsa’s voice was pleasant and serene. Ever since Ase’s death, she’d been more tempered—like she was playing a role, filling a void. Helmi almost missed her cruelty. Like it was a creature comfort. “There is no use in wondering, because we will never know before it is our time to. We want for much. Whether or not we are given it remains to be seen. Our Father is a most...”

Her voice trailed off. Helmi tried to think of what words Kajsa might use; stringent, perhaps, ambitious, or even enigmatic—

“Wretched god,” Kajsa finished, a grin in her voice. “It does so love to watch us toil, does It not?”

“Yes,” she answered after a moment, because wretched resonated somewhere in her soul, somewhere in the marrow of her bones, reminding her why this had felt like home ever in the first place. Wretched, to watch them suffer, to give them so little information and let them suffer wreck after wreck.

In front of her, the dark of the forest swelled, breathed, reminded her: failure was not an option. Theirs was not a benevolent, forgiving God, the kind who would forgive sin if one only asked—the Father was wrathful, was vengeful, and would make them suffer their insolence and their ineptitude.

“I should get going. I imagine our mor will not be far behind, thanks to your ingenuity, and I want to be in Hope County to welcome her.”

“I am,” Helmi blurted out after a second of hesitation, “happy, that you’re coming back.”

There was a pause on the other end; and then, a soft breath, where Helmi thought maybe Kajsa was smiling again.

“Ingenting under solen är beständigt, my heart.”

The call clicked. Only empty air and static, then, buzzing faintly in the ear, the words dead in her mouth before she’d had the chance to say them back.

Nothing under the sun is lasting.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Elliot was going to be sick. Nevermind the morning-after-dread of realizing she had caved in on her most basest animal desires—What, the man who’s perhaps lied to you the most tells you he’s never thought you’re crazy, and you let him fuck you? Come on, Elliot,—but listening to Pratt ramble nervously into the phone about how he didn’t realize everyone was gone, nobody stopped to look for him, nobody tried to call, he thought she had left too and she had, where was she? Was she okay?

“I’m fine,” she managed out. Guilt ripped through her sternum, burning hot and shameful. I’m fine, Pratt, don’t worry about me. Got well and truly railed last night, it’s fine. Oh, also, I’m going to have a baby. And I’m married. Don’t worry, you found out about the same time as me, just off a few weeks. “I’m at my mom’s.”

“In Georgia?”

“Yeah.” Elliot swallowed thickly. “Are you okay? You sound like shit.”

Pratt laughed uneasily on the other end of the line. “I’m with, uh—I’m with them.” He paused. “The Seeds. And their—the lawyer lady.”

“That doesn’t tell me if you’re okay,” she reiterated, more firmly.

He laughed again. “I’m on the phone with you, aren’t I?”

Frustrating. They might all be looming around him, waiting to hear what she was going to say. It was a trap, of course. Jacob or Joseph had done enough digging around in her past to find out they’d gone to school together, had gone to school dances, had basically dated—and they knew she’d evacuated the entirety of the Resistance otherwise. They were clearly laying a trap to get her to come back. But for what?

“Hey, um—” Staci cleared his throat. “Ell, there’s—a lot of bad stuff going on. There’s these people, and they’re—they’re just killing people, left and right, gutting them and sticking them up and—Jesus, they fucking split Miss Mabel open like a fish, and I’m—”

Oh, there it was; the sickness, the violent urge to throw up. The Family was supposed to be dead. They had been killing themselves off in pairs after Kian’s death, weren’t they? Elliot blinked rapidly, trying to calm the furious beating of her heart, the way it slammed against her rib cage and demanded penance.

Calloused fingers swept her hair to the side and squeezed at the juncture between her neck and shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. She closed her eyes tight, willing herself to accept it for what it was—John, comforting her, because even now he knew her well enough to see she was spiraling.

I can’t, is what she needed to say. I can’t come back, Staci, I can’t, not me and not my baby, my hands are already covered in blood I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry—

“—I’m so fucking scared, Ell.” Pratt’s voice wobbled on the other end, hitting straight at the fresh welt of guilt in her chest, ripping and tearing at it.

I can’t—

“I don’t want to be alone—”

I’m sorry I can’t I’m sorry—

“—I’m sorry—”

“I’ll come,” she blurted out, her voice hoarse, the burn behind her eyes and in her nose a threat of oncoming tears. She couldn’t stand it—couldn’t bear to hear him like this, when this whole time he was supposed to have been safe. She’d let him down, and while she had a responsibility to herself, the responsibility to the others had always come first.

And, better still, was the tiny, tiny fragment of hope that the dark-haired woman with a mouth like broken glass would be left behind, too. The dog with the man’s face and the strands of her hair glinting between Its bloody teeth would stay here, in Weyfield. It would wait for her, but perhaps there would be some peace there, too.

It waits for you, It waits for us all, It will have you. As It gives, so too does It take.

“Tell them I’m coming back.” Elliot bit the words out through her teeth. “And tell them if I come back and you’re hurt, or dead, or—if there’s anything wrong with you, I’m going to fucking kill them. Okay?”

“No need,” came Jacob’s voice over the phone. “You’re on speaker, Deputy Honeysett. We’re well acquainted with your particular brand of mania.”

“Great,” she snapped, feeling a vicious flush spread through her cheeks despite the fact that she didn’t feel bad at all for what she’d said. “You thought I was fucking manic before? I had nothing to lose, then. Imagine how much worse I’ll make your life now—”

John’s hand squeezed again. This time, she shot him a venomous look over her shoulder and shrugged him off. Elliot knotted her fingers in Boomer’s fur and prompted again, “Is that clear?”

The eldest Seed sounded like he was smiling when he said, “Crystal, Deputy.”

“Good.” She paused. “And don’t fucking call me that. I’m not a deputy, anymore.”

“Sure thing, hellcat.”

“Pratt—”

Jacob’s voice came again: “Have a safe trip.”

The phone call beeped once, twice, three times, and then ended. The hard knot of dread in the pit of her stomach did not lessen; she hit the redial button, and it went straight to voicemail. Again, and again, and again, her hands shaking as she thought wait, I didn’t get to say goodbye, I didn’t get to promise I’d be there, I’m coming Pratt, I’m coming please don’t be worried, before she shoved the phone into John’s grip.

“Call him back,” she demanded, “make him pick up the phone—”

“Elliot,” he began, “if he turned the phone off, I can’t—”

“Fuck you!” she snapped, coming to a stand and raking her fingers through her hair. “You fucking knew they had Pratt, didn’t you? You knew that he was still trapped there and he didn’t get out, and you fucking left him there, so that you could pull me back if it didn’t go the way you wanted—”

John stood too, setting the phone on the bedside table and lifting his hands. The gesture was meant to calm and soothe, see my hands? Here they are, no threat here, but all it did was make her angrier, stoke a fire inside of her that had apparently lain dormant since she’d left Hope County.

Elliot smacked his hands down. “Don’t treat me like some fucking animal, John.”

“I’m not,” he defended quickly, dropping his hands all the way back to his sides when Boomer barked twice, sharp and accusatory, hackles lifting. “I didn’t know Pratt was still there. I thought the Resistance had got him out, and I didn’t bother asking.”

“You should have bothered—”

“I’m just as displeased as you are,” John interjected dryly, the dark coloring of his tone implying that he was—but for perhaps a different reason. It struck her that he might, in fact, be so displeased because he was aware of their history, on some level. It did feel a little gratifying to know that he was squirming for such an insignificant reason.

“You fuckhead,” she spit. “You put a fucking baby in me and you still have the insecurity of a middle school boy.”

“We both know,” he replied tartly, “that our baby is not in any way binding you to me, Elliot. And is it so shocking, considering that the thing that I want most in the world is for you to come home, and you fight me at every turn—”

“Hope County isn’t my home anymore—”

“—but Staci Pratt calls you and cries a little into the phone, and you’re jumping at the bit to go back?”

“Fuck. Off,” Elliot bit out between her teeth, face flushing. “Pratt is my friend, which is more than I can say for you.”

“Right,” John agreed, “because you let the person you hate fuck you.”

Her mouth clamped shut, biting and swallowing back a wad of venom she thought might make her sick if she let it out. There was too much of it, the things that she wanted to say—fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou, I fucking hate you, you make me sick, if anything is wrong with Pratt I’ll kill your brothers and then I’ll fucking kill you too—but she didn’t say any of it.

Instead, she said, “Get out. I’m getting changed and we’re leaving.”

John sighed, passing a hand over his face for a moment like maybe he regretted what he’d said. “We can’t.”

She felt her voice spike, near incredulous hysteria: “Pardon?”

“Old Father Time of the Job Ineptitude mentioned he had Federal agents showing up out of nowhere,” he snapped. The words had her stomach twisting; her first thought was a tiny spike of happiness at the idea of Cameron Burke, and then it was quickly doused by the sharp reminder that she’d stolen his gun and ran with it. Because he thought she was crazy. Because he was going to put her behind bars.

John continued, “He seemed to be implying it was somehow related to me showing up, and by proxy you, and if we up and leave—”

“It’ll make it look more suspicious,” she finished, feeling a little numb. “Okay, so—what? How long do we have to wait?”

He scratched his cheek, his eyes flickering absently over the duvet on the bed, like he was trying to map it out in his own head. No doubt, he was trying to operate on multiple timelines—the timeline of Not Raising Suspicion, and whatever timeline Joseph had given him.

Some things really did never change.

“After your mother’s Christmas party,” he ventured finally. “It’s not quite Christmas—could look enough like we’re sticking around for enough holiday cheer to be passable before leaving again. Pritchard’s clearly not unfamiliar with your mother’s...”

His voice trailed off. He looked to her as though asking for permission to say something critical; when Elliot remained stonefaced and immovable, he finished, “...temperament.”

“Nice save.”

“Well,” he replied, humble as ever. “Anyway, that probably wouldn’t rouse suspicion. If it is Burke, and your house isn’t getting stormed right now, I have to think he’s here on unofficial business. Otherwise, why wouldn’t they just come and bust the door down and grab you?”

Elliot hoped that was the case. She hoped this meant that Burke was just trying to find her, and was not hunting her down at the behest of the government. If there was one thing that Joseph had been right about amidst all his doomsday-saying and whatnot, it was that according to the news, there was a big chance the government had bigger things on their hands. Bigger concerns than a tiny town in Montana and its cult inhabitants.

“Get out,” she said again. “So I can change.”

“You—” John sucked in a little breath, stopping himself from what was inevitably going to be stirring another argument; he lifted his hands again, this time in surrender. “Alright, Ell. I said you’d get anything you want, I’ll give it to you.”

“Chop-chop.”

“I’m going. Mind if I pull some clothes on before I walk out into the house owned by your mother, where she has almost assuredly been sipping her vodka martini since four AM?”

She felt her eyes narrow. “Fine.”

Turning, she crossed the bedroom into the master bath and shut the door behind her, pressing the heels of her palms to her eyes until fine webbing scattered across the dark of her eyelids. This was the last thing she needed—and it felt, surely, traitorous and awful to think it, to think, this is the last thing I need, Pratt needing rescuing, when the only reason she’d felt comfortable leaving Hope County in the first place was because she thought the only people who were left were cultists.

Elliot dropped her hands from her eyes, blinking a few times until her vision cleared. In the mirror—much as it had been since coming back from Hope County—stood a girl that she thought looked like a stranger. Blushed cheeks and kiss-reddened lips, her neck littered with love marks, the healthy glow blooming up from beneath the WRATH scar on her chest, exposed by her loosely cinched robe.

That’s not me, she thought, pulling absently on a strand of red hair and swallowing thickly. I’m not that girl.

Her face was softer than before, more lively color rising up around her eyes and cheeks and mouth. More of her freckles had come out. There was a tiny, tiny—almost imperceptible—slope to her tummy, now, too.

Not me, came the thought again, more distressed this time, her brows pulling together at the center of her forehead. That’s not me. I’m not that girl. Who are you, pretty girl? Not me.

The woman and her dark hair—dark dark dark, like an oil slick, looming in the corner of her mind. Her mouth red as pomegranate and stretched like broken glass.

I hear stress is bad for the baby.

A knock came at the door. Elliot blinked, feeling unwell and unsure of how long she’d been standing there, her hand having dropped to cup the slope of her stomach experimentally. Women did that, right? When they were pregnant? Did it make them feel closer to the baby? Did it make them feel more protected?

Did she feel safer?

“Ell,” John said, nudging the door open, “your mother is...”

Pulling away from the door, she cinched the robe tight and busied herself at the sink, turning the water on. As he stepped into the bathroom, she could see John was now fully-dressed, freshly-showered. She’d been standing in front of the mirror trying to recognize the person staring back at her long enough for him to do that, it seemed.

“That was a quick shower,” she said briskly, splashing her face and rubbing absently at her cheek. She could feel John’s eyes on her through the mirror, even though she refused to meet them.

“I’ve always preferred it that way,” he replied casually. And then: “Get distracted?”

Yes, she thought, but didn’t say, because then the things he’d said last night that had made her feel sane and normal wouldn’t mean anything anymore. John would have said I don’t think you’re crazy and he’d have to take it back, because if she told him there was a stranger standing in her mirror, he would think she was crazy.

“It’s weird,” is what Elliot offered after a moment, trying to find a way to be honest and redirect, “to see a baby bump. Even if it’s small.” She cleared her throat and fished her toothbrush out of the holder. Continuing briskly, she added, “And the scar. I spent a lot of time avoiding it.”

John’s expression had done that funny thing that she supposed was softening at her words. He stepped forward; the ghost of his fingers trailing her ribs over the robe made her skin prickle with goosebumps.

“I’m not done being mad at you,” she warned him, eyes flickering to meet his gaze through the mirror.

“I know,” he replied, tone agreeable. “I just—”

The brunette paused then, waiting for her to stop him before he smoothed the warmth of his palm over her hip, across the expanse of her abdomen. It was painfully intimate in a way that didn’t imply sex—intimate, in the way that she felt seen, that she could see the relief coloring the edges of his expression.

John pressed his mouth to the back of her shoulder. “Just missed you,” he murmured after a moment. “Getting to touch you. Even just like this. Especially just like this—”

Something panged sharp and unforgiving in her chest. “Well, don’t get used to it,” she replied tightly, brushing his hand away from the baby bump after letting it linger for a moment. “And I don’t remember inviting you in.”

“Your mother was asking after you,” John said, by way of explanation, looking pleased from their little moment. Fucker. “She wanted to know if you’d be drinking coffee this morning. I think her exact words were, ‘Mr. Seed, would you ask my daughter if she’s going to take the risk of drinking coffee this morning? I know she shouldn’t be, with her condition—’”

“Ugh.”

“‘—but since we’re going to be picking out her dress for the Christmas party today, I could make an exception—’”

“Fuck me,” she muttered, wetting her toothbrush and putting the toothpaste on it. “Ask her if she can make it extra strong.”

“I’m actually enjoying being out of your mother’s ire for a minute.”

Elliot rolled her eyes. “No coffee for me.”

“Got it.” John headed for the bathroom door, and then paused again, turning to look at her. “Ell,” he began, “I really didn’t know—you know, about Pratt.”

That pesky little flutter of something agonizingly sweet—softness—in her chest flared again.

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” is what she said, before she turned the toothbrush on and started scrubbing her teeth. That seemed enough of an answer for John, for once, because he left and closed the door quietly behind him after deliberating.

The minutes, and hours, and days—well, day or two—until they got back to Hope County were going to be something close to agony. She could only hope they had taken her seriously when she told them that she’d better come back to a Pratt in one piece.

I don’t want to be alone. Pratt’s voice echoed hauntingly in her head. She thought she could remember the sound of voices in the background—a woman’s, at least. Faith? Or John’s friend, Isolde? Surely Jacob and Joseph were there listening to him call her, too. She’d been so fucking stupid to let them get to her.

No, not stupid. Not stupid to want Pratt to feel safe, and like someone was coming back for him.

I’m sorry, she thought tiredly, as though the words could somehow get to him. I’m sorry, that it’s me you have to wait for.

I’m sorry that I won’t be the person you remembered.

I’m sorry.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“You did so well, Staci.”

Faith’s voice jarred him out of the weird pause in time he’d been marinating in. It had been just a few seconds, maybe—Jacob and Joseph were talking in low voices, the dark-haired woman standing at the point of their little triangle with her arms crossed and her brows furrowed—that his brain had shut off, the distress in Elliot’s voice echoing eerily in his head. She’d sounded so upset. He wouldn’t have called, wouldn’t have started to ask her to come back, if he’d known how much she didn’t want to.

But that wasn’t true, either. He would have called, because Helmi had said, Either the Seeds are going to drag her back by her hair kicking and screaming, and eventually kill her, or she comes back and we keep her safe.

‘Safe’ had been the keyword there. He didn’t know how much he could take the woman at her word, but considering everything—well, it was better than trying to take the Seeds at their word.

Faith’s hand touched the back of his, startling him into a tiny jump. He cleared his throat. “Um—I wasn’t...Acting.”

“Still,” she replied sweetly, “I know it must have been hard.”

She was so polished—skin all dusted silver and moonlike, flushed with a little high color in her cheeks, her blonde hair tumbling around her face loosely. In the chapel, the air was tepid at best, and frigid at worst, keeping a little pink in everyone’s faces.

It was strange to look at her now. Her hands were soft; her skin unblemished. Just hours ago, he’d been sitting in the car, noticing the same kinds of details about Helmi—about how human she looked, hand slung over a steering wheel, her cracked phone plugged into the truck’s stereo and her chipped nail polish and the scars and bruises littering her knuckles. The way she’d shot him a toothy, wolfish grin as she cranked the volume up and said, What, Staci Pratt, you don’t like Blue Öyster Cult either?

In comparison, Faith didn’t feel human at all. She felt like a dream.

“Can—” Pratt came to a stand, rubbing his palms on the tops of his thighs. “Can I go? Lay down, or something?”

Three pairs of eyes snapped to him. The dark-haired woman, who Jacob kept referring to as Sol, completely ignored his question and looked at the redhead to say, “Has someone checked him for head trauma?”

“I’m not—concussed!” Pratt snapped, his voice wobbling. “I’m just tired.”

Jacob’s eyes narrowed. He looked like maybe he wanted to say something, and then reconsidered, saying, “Dr. Hale will take a look at you and then sure, Peaches, you can rest.”

It took every ounce of his self-control to not tell Jacob to stop calling him that. He had to remember that as far as they were concerned, he hadn’t been taken in by the “other side”, he’d been sitting scared and meek like a good boy at the compound.

Pratt’s eyes darted, catching sight of the woman that Jacob gestured to with a free hand. Right. The Fall’s End vet. She’d been here for what—a little over a year? He couldn’t tell if she was being held captive by Eden’s Gate or if she was there by her own volition, though the few times he’d run into her before she’d seemed like a pretty even-keel person. Didn’t she have like, two degrees or something? What was she doing here?

He made his way to the back of the church, meeting the curly-haired blonde halfway. Definitely looked too clean to be a cultist. “You’re not a people doctor, right?” he asked uneasily, watching as her head cocked to the side and her mouth quirked in a bit of amusement.

“No, Mr. Pratt, I am not a people doctor.” She fell into step beside him, opening the chapel door for him. “But I do have first aid training, which I think is about as good as you’re going to get around these parts.”

“I didn’t get a concussion.”

“That’s good. When was the last time you ate?”

His mouth twisted in a frown, trailing after through the snow as the cold began to sink into his bones. She seemed awfully confident moving around the compound, if she wasn’t part of the cult. But if she was, what was she doing here? How did—?

Pain bloomed behind his eyes, a fresh headache sinking into his nerves. Too much. It was too much confusion, about Elliot (pregnant? And John Seed was with her?) and about the Family and about all of these—these people that he didn’t really recognize hanging around the Seeds. And the compound was so quiet. Where was everyone? Had the Family really taken that many of Eden’s Gate out?

“Mr. Pratt?”

The woman opened a door into a bunkhouse that glowed with golden light from within and radiated heat. Two long-haired shepherds lay on the floor at the foot of the bed, lifting long faces and peering at him with dark eyes. He stepped inside and cleared his throat.

“Uh, a day, maybe,” he replied after a minute. Taking a seat when she gestured for him to, he shifted uncomfortably as she set a first aid kid on the cushion beside him and pulled one of the wooden chairs up in front of him.

“And slept?” She blew a curl out of her face and opened the kit, fishing around to find some alcohol wipes and Neosporin. He guessed he was a bit worse for wear than he’d thought, initially; not that he’d been taking great care of himself, even when it had just been him and Dani. She’d encouraged him to stay high, not stay better.

Fuck, I’m such an idiot.

He let out a little hiss when she pressed one of the alcohol wipes to a cut on his cheek.

“The same,” he replied, reaching up and brushing her hand away. “What—what are you doing here, doctor?”

“Arden is fine.” She sat back, regarding him curiously. “I’m cleaning that cut, Mr. Pratt. It looks agitated.”

“No, I—” Pratt let out a little breath. “I mean here. In the compound.”

Arden stared at him for a moment, like she didn’t understand why he was asking her that question. She lifted her hand and arched a brow inquisitively; when he nodded shortly, she leaned forward again, balancing her free hand on his shoulder and using the other to gently dab at the cut.

“I’ve spent the last month or so holed up in my house,” she explained to him. “Me, and the dogs, I mean.”

A little smile ghosted over her lips, and despite himself, Pratt felt a wry smile tugging at his own. It was difficult not to feel relaxed, when Arden moved with so much surety. In the glow of the radiators ticking away and the warm yellow light, especially.

“Mostly reading. They had assigned one of the boys to me—Santiago. I think he’s John’s man. He doesn’t strike me as one of Joseph or Faith’s.”

Pratt made a little noise of agreement, because he knew exactly what she was talking about. She dropped the alcohol wipes to the side and reached over for the Neosporin, dabbing some onto her finger and then reaching back up to resume her work.

“Sorry,” he said after a moment. “That you got—stuck, I mean. Here.”

“Oh, you don’t need to apologize, Mr. Pratt.”

“I feel partially responsible,” he admitted, feeling some of the tension flee his shoulders. “You know, being law enforcement and all—”

“Hold still, please.”

“Sorry,” he said again. “I guess what I mean is—sometimes it feels like a real failing on our part. All of those people, I...”

He paused, and Arden leaned back, giving him a pat on the knee. “That’s alright, Mr. Pratt,” and her voice bloomed with comfort. “Where was I?”

“Up at your house, with the dogs and maybe one of John’s men.”

“Right. I wasn’t allowed to leave, you know, on account of the—” She gestured with an elegant hand. “Cult running amok.”

He nodded. “Cult number two.”

Arden smiled, and continued, “And then just a few days ago, after one of them started killing those folks in Fall’s End, Jacob came up to get me.”

The way she said it made him feel, a little uneasily, that maybe he was misreading it. Jacob came up to get me did not sound like Jacob came to pick me up because I’m his prisoner.

And then she said, “He was worried, you know. Only having a radio up there. I know how to use a gun, but I’d prefer not to, if I don’t have to, and—”

“Sorry,” he blurted out, “but are you—”

She blinked light eyes at him, almost owlishly, like she didn’t understand the question. “Am I...?”

“With? Them?” Pratt gestured towards where the chapel lay, beyond the bunkhouse walls. “The—Eden’s Gate?”

“Oh!” Arden laughed, almost sheepishly; he felt a nervous little laugh bubbling out of him too, almost hoping for the relief of her assuring him that she was, in fact, not in league with the Darwinian psycho that had spent the last few months mindfucking every resident he could get his hands on.

She came to a stand and pulled a bottle of ibuprofen and a granola bar out of the kit, dropping them in his hand.

“Eat the bar before you take the ibuprofen,” she told him, “or it’ll—well, I’m sure you know. Upset stomach, and all that. Do you want to take a shower?”

Pratt’s fingers curled around the ibuprofen bottle. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m sorry,” Arden replied, not sounding very sorry at all, “I guess I just thought it a bit silly. Who else would I be “with”?”

His stomach somersaulted, sinking viciously. Suddenly, the granola bar—which had certainly been sitting in the kit for who knew how long—looked even less appetizing than before. While his vision swam for a second, the woman carried on conversationally, as though she had not just revealed herself to—

Well, to be in league with the Darwinian psycho that had spent the last few months mindfucking every resident he could get his hands on.

“But—they think the world is ending,” Pratt blurted out, lifting his eyes to look at her finally. “And—doctor, all the people they killed, and—”

“Don’t strain yourself, Mr. Pratt. You’ve been under quite a bit of duress as of late, I think, and it would be best to try and keep those stress levels down.” She moved to the small pantry beside the bathroom, shuffling around and producing a few towels, leaning into the bathroom to set them on the counter. “Though, you do bring up a funny point—have you been listening to the news? I suppose you haven’t. I remember listening to the news before all of this business went down and thinking that the world had ended a long time ago. We were just a bit behind, all the way out here. Do you want to take a shower?”

Blinking furiously, Pratt searched his brain for the answer; he muddled through the disappointment raking down his spine, the delicate little hope that had been fostered at the prospect of finding someone who was kind and not under the Seeds’ thumb being crushed beneath the weight of the reality of his situation.

“Yes please,” he managed out, his voice hoarse.

“Alright. Eat that bar first, so you don’t pass out in the hot water. And Mr. Pratt?”

“Y—” He had clumsily ripped open the granola bar and shoved half into his mouth, the fear of being seen as disobedient when Jacob Seed was within radius flickering like a wildfire through his body. He swallowed thickly, the dry food feeling like it was sticking to the inside of his mouth. “Um, yes?”

Her expression colored sympathetic, Arden reached down and fished a water bottle out of the case, dropping it in his hand.

“The honorific isn’t necessary,” she told him. “Remember, Arden is just fine.”

“Yes ma’am,” he mumbled. “I mean—Arden.”

She smiled, this time with teeth. “Good. You holler if you need me.”

I won’t, he thought, even though she was probably preferable to anyone else coming to his rescue.

Maybe he really would rather be dead.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Scarlet insisted that John stay at the house while they went to the boutique. It was all a big show of his mother-in-law attempting, he thought, to be polite, though she failed miserably at it; and as much as John wanted to argue that it would probably be best if he came along—considering their late-night visitor—he could tell when a battle was a lost one, and when it wasn’t.

“Do you think you can do that, Mr. Seed?” she asked, pulling the objectively ostentatious fur coat around her shoulders and buttoning it. “Remain in my home for a few hours, without causing me any problems?”

He said, “I think I can certainly give it a shot,” to which the blonde rolled her eyes.

“Please do more than that.”

“Rest assured, I am fully capable of behaving myself, Mrs. Honeysett.”

He couldn’t wait to be rid of her. Every second he spent in her presence, being reminded of how little she liked him given how much she didn’t know about him—or care to get to know about him, anyway—he thought, I cannot fucking wait to get back to Hope County and the resurgence of the Family. I cannot wait until that is my only fucking problem. Anyone else and she would have been thoroughly cleansed; clearly, Wrath ran in the family. Just the thought of it made his fingers itch.

Elliot had looked tired already, standing at the door and letting her mother go first. As soon as Scarlet was out the door, carefully picking her way down the front steps, John’s hand went to Ell’s hip; her lashes fluttered at the contact, but she didn’t jerk away; only tensed, considering the act of balking and pulling away from him but not yet committing. So there had been progress.

Her free hand came to his shoulder, resting there uncertainly. “Please don’t do anything to my mother’s house.”

“As much as I would love to, I will refrain from my wretched impulses. I am a man of God, after all.” He grimaced. “Do you think she’ll like me more if things are immaculate?”

“Ha-ha. She certainly will not.” She paused, letting out a little breath. “Okay. Back in an hour.”

He felt a smile tug at his mouth. “Ambitious.” His hand drifted to the small of her back, and he said, “Ell, before you go—”

“John, I don’t—”

Elliot turned to look at him at the same time that he stepped forward, closing what little distance there was and rapidly; she blinked, and her eyes flickered to his mouth instinctively, like she was expecting it—like she’d gotten used to the affection when he closed in on her like that. The gesture sent a little thrill through his stomach.

Mine.

“Don’t let her stress you out,” John murmured, keeping his voice low between just the two of them. “You’ll look good in whatever you pick.”

She turned her face away, cheeks going pink. “What’s this, huh? Still trying to make up for being a complete fuckhead this morning?”

He grinned. “You really have gotten brattier.”

“Goodbye, John,” she said, and then he leaned in and kissed her; the connection made every part of him sigh, collectively, as though he’d just been waiting for it.

Waiting for her.

Yes yes yes, it all said when she didn’t pull away, his fingers curling into the fabric of her sweater at the small of her back as her hand slipped from his shoulder to his chest, yes, mine all mine.

Elliot did pull back after a moment, putting a bit of space between them—though it seemed more to catch her breath than anything else. She only pulled back enough for their eyes to meet; John’s gaze darted downward, watching pearly teeth as they tugged at her lower lip, worrying it there for a moment.

“To answer your question,” he continued as casually as he could, “that’s not how I intend on making that up to you.”

“So you agree?” Elliot asked. Her voice came out evenly, despite the color blooming underneath the freckles on her cheeks. “You were being a complete fuckhead this morning?”

“I did so miss our banter.”

“Bunny,” Scarlet called impatiently from the driveway, “the boutique is going to get crowded if we don’t get there when it opens.”

“I’m coming!” Her gaze darted back to him. “The best way to make it up to me would be to say the words out loud,” Elliot informed him as she inched toward the door. “So that baby can hear them, too. At least you’ll have been more honest around our child than with me, if we’re keeping a running tally, and we should—”

He tugged her back from the doorway again, lighter, more playful as he went in to kiss her a second time; but she pulled back, just out of his reach, hand planted firmly on his chest.

Elliot said, “I told you not to get used to it.”

“I’m not,” he answered lightly, “just taking what I can get.”

“Elliot.”

“Coming!” Elliot cinched her coat up more snug, closer to her throat and where the scar lay expertly over her sternum, and snagged the keys off of the counter to the beat-up Honda Civic John had lifted from Eden’s Gate. Right. He couldn’t wait to hear Scarlet’s input on that car ride.

The redhead made it down two steps before she paused, turning and looking at John and going, “Um, bye,” in a tone that was more sheepish than he anticipated; it was almost shy, and it caught him so off-guard that he didn’t even get the chance to muster a response before she was making her way across the snowy driveway.

“Drive safe,” John called, once he’d gathered his senses a bit more. Elliot glanced at him over her shoulder and then ducked into the car, closing the door and beginning to pull her way down the drive. He waited until they’d turned onto the freshly plowed road before he turned back into the house and closed the front door behind him.

Boomer had seated himself in front of the window, letting out a little whine as his tail swept along the floor.

“C’mon, furry sentinel,” he sighed, not risking putting his hand within biting reach. “Just you and me today.”

The Heeler whined again, apparently thoroughly displeased at this news, and stayed rooted at the window to watch for his girl to come home.

Fishing his phone out of his pocket, he hit the redial button on the number they’d gotten a call from that morning and waited as the phone rang, pacing around the polished living room. It rang enough times as he idly adjusted glasses on a bar cart that he thought for certain no one would pick up—and then the phone clicked, and a warm voice came through.

“Hi, John.”

He blinked in surprise. “Hello, Faith. How’d you get this phone?”

“Isolde passed it to me when she saw your call. She wanted me to tell you that she’s too busy to talk to you.”

A wry smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Sounds like everything’s operating as normal, then.”

“I suppose.” Faith paused. “Are you coming home soon?”

“I am.”

“With Elliot?”

“Yes, she—” John cleared his throat and made an effort to sound as unbothered as possible. “She’s very concerned about Deputy Pratt’s well-being.”

“We’re taking good care of him. Will you tell her that? Better than he’d be getting out there, anyway,” and she said the word out there with such a surprising amount of venom that John realized he’d nearly forgotten about the Family’s reappearance. Well, there couldn’t be that many of them left, could there?

And then Faith said, “A lot of us are dead, John.”

His hand went to the mantle for a little support as he leaned against it. There was a bit of a bite to Faith’s voice—almost accusatory. A lot of us are dead, she said, as he stood in the plush home of his mother-in-law while they went dress shopping for a Christmas party. It occurred to him that none of his siblings—nor Isolde—were aware of what they’d been dealing with the last couple of days; they must have felt like he was getting off easy.

“The Father says we only have a little while longer,” she continued, “and that if we can’t fix this in time, we won’t wait for you. He’s been alone, a lot. Talking to God. Praying for more time, for you.”

The words made his stomach wrench, a little. He would have felt worse if he didn’t know already that there was an exit plan in place, one that Elliot was already on board for. “We’re only here for another day, and then we’re leaving” John replied. “The sheriff mentioned some—Federal agents. I don’t want to rouse suspicion and bring them down on us again.”

“Do you think it’s Burke?”

“Maybe.” He pressed his forehead against the stone mantle. “Probably. No one’s come storming in yet.”

“I hope it’s him. I hope he follows you all the way back here.” And then, darker: “He has a lot to apologize for.”

John made a low noise of agreement. It felt good to have a conversation with someone who seemed to be on the same side as him, for once—no bickering with Scarlet, no bickering with Elliot, and no bickering with Isolde. As of late, it seemed he was only capable of incurring arguments; though that did seem to be changing quickly with his wife.

“We’re having a service soon. Did you want me to tell Joseph anything?”

“Ah, no, that’s alright. I just wanted to let you know we had a plan.”

“Do you want to talk to him?”

“No,” John said again, more quickly and with a bout of unease sprinting up his spine. “No, that’s alright. I’ll let you go. We’ll be home soon, okay?”

“Alright.” Faith’s voice lightened when she added, “Tell Elliot I said hello.”

Bad idea, he thought, but said, “Of course,” and hit the end call button. It wasn’t until his entire body relaxed that he realized he’d been fully tensed, waiting for some kind of verbal blow—and though there had been a few, he felt...

Fine.

I feel fine.

It was fine. Everything was fine. Joseph was praying for more time for them. They’d make it back without a hitch. And then, when the world ended, and took the remainder of the Family with them—

Well, that would be all the better.

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“My children.”

The heaters rattled, clicking in the lukewarm air in a steady, mechanical heartbeat. Candles lit throughout the chapel drenched the members of Eden’s Gate in a strange, golden glow, and as Joseph’s voice carried all the way to the back where Staci sat between Jacob and Arden. He could see in the front row sat Faith and the dark-haired woman—who he’d come to understand was Isolde Khan, John’s old business partner—and there was a moment where Joseph’s eyes fixed on her before they lifted back to the congregation.

“God has truly been testing us,” the man continued, pacing away from the altar the front, hands folded behind him. “As you know, I have spent a lot of time in silence and solitude so that I might be the most open to receiving from Him. For the longest time, I thought—had we done something wrong? Had I led us astray? Were we being punished?”

An uneasy murmur rippled throughout the crowd. In the front, Pratt could see Isolde writing something down in a notebook; he wished he was closer, so he could see what it was—what was so interesting that she was taking notes now, of all times? What could she possibly be doing?

Preparing for the worst-case scenario, he thought idly, shifting in his seat. Jacob’s eyes cut over to him and he cleared his throat. The shower had done nothing to ease his nerves.

“But I’ll tell you—devout, and loyal, we have not been left to the wayside.” Joseph stopped, pressing a hand onto a woman’s shoulder, squeezing. “I have heard His voice. I have received His word. We are not only followers of God’s word—we are His soldiers.”

The noise that passed through the congregation this time was brighter, agreements—it must have felt good. Not just passive sheep, to be shepherded; soldiers. Capable of violence. And they were.

“We are His warriors.”

The woman Joseph’s hand was on was getting teary-eyed, and when he departed from her to sidle his way down the aisle, she all but collapsed in on herself, folding in half to bury her face in her hands. Another attestation of acknowledgment rippled around him, louder.

“This world is a wretched, vile machine, taking in and spitting out sin, flooding our garden with locusts,” the Prophet continued, his voice lifting in volume. “We are, my children, the only people who have the great fortune of seeing this—of knowing what no one else in the world seems capable of understanding. God has told me—”

Sick, Pratt thought dizzily, I’m going to be sick.

“—that a life of bliss awaits us, if we can only...”

Joseph paused, as though he needed to look for the words, as though he hadn’t been reciting this all day in preparation for the sermon; Pratt knew that he must, the assured cadence of his voice coming so firmly that there was no way it wasn’t rehearsed.

“...look past the dread, and the fear,” he continued earnestly, allowing his hand to be taken by another member, “because fear is the language of the Devil—if we can look past it, and dedicate ourselves fully to His cause, there is only happiness and serenity waiting for us on the other side of this.”

“How do we do it, Father?” a man to the other side of Jacob cried out, his voice a panicked fever-pitch. “How do we show Him we’re devoted?”

Joseph’s head turned. His gaze landed on Pratt, lingering before lifting to the congregant. “We’ve got to stop the machine.”

Optimism flooded the crowd. An easy solution. Stop the machine, like it was nothing. Like they weren’t dealing with a group of people who killed as easily as they did.

“Throw your bodies upon the gears, upon the wheels, upon all the apparatus,” Joseph intoned dutifully, pacing back toward the front. “Whatever it takes to bring the machine to a grinding halt. We can no longer passively take part in the End—we are warriors of God, and our divine right is not instinctively endowed. It is earned. And we will show that we have earned it by exterminating these interlopers invading our garden.”

Pratt’s mouth pressed into a thin line. Eden’s Gate members came to a stand around him; loomed in his vision; eclipsed what little murky light reached him. Cheers and applause rolling around in his head. He thought for sure he’d heard this all somewhere, before—

Oh, yes. And you've got to indicate to the people who run it, to the people who own it, that unless you're free, the machine will be prevented from working at all! The irony of Joseph lifting lines from an activist’s speech was not lost on him.

A heavy hand gripped the collar of his shirt, hauling him to his feet. “Stand up,” Jacob muttered. “Good posture’s important.”

He steadied himself on the pew ahead of him. Amidst the chatter of the congregation, eventually quieted down by Joseph’s patience at the front of the chapel, he could hear renewed excitement. More life had been breathed into the peggies than he’d seen in a long time—well, considering that he’d only been here roughly a day, and the whole place felt like a ghost town even now, that was saying something.

“Please,” Joseph called lightly, “join me in prayer.”

Heads bowed. Pratt let his chin drop to his chest, but his eyes didn’t close; his gaze darted to his right, where Arden stood, hands clasped politely in front of her. Her head did not bow for prayer.

He was only vaguely aware of the words coming out of Joseph’s mouth, redirecting his eyes back to the floorboards beneath his worn shoes. Lord, we pray that you might show us guidance and wisdom in these uncertain times; show us how to be most like you, for only you are perfect...

Elliot was going to come back to this. She was going to come back to this, and he was going to have to figure out how to get her out of here without any of the Seeds noticing. Helmi had said, meet me out back, by the river, in three nights, but he couldn’t keep track. Had it been one night? Two? Less than one?

“I am your Father,” Joseph was saying. “You are my Children. Together, and only together, will we march through the Gates of Eden.”

A rousing amen echoed around him. They milled about, chatting excitedly—perhaps delighted to have a focus for their ire, for their agitation. The members of Eden’s Gate looked worse than Pratt remembered. Dirtier. Thinner. More exhausted. He thought that it must be nice to have a purpose—

Fuck me, not that shit again.

He filed out of the row behind Arden, and with Jacob behind him, following her to the front where Isolde and Joseph stood. They were speaking in low tones, bundled close together; she tapped her ten against the front of her notepad in what looked like an agitated tick, but he couldn’t hear what it was she was saying. By the time they were close that he might have heard, Joseph lifted his head from where he’d bent a little to speak closely and looked at him, smiling.

“It was nice to see your face in the crowd this day, Deputy Pratt,” he said, his voice warm. “Did you enjoy the sermon?”

Pratt opened his mouth, and then closed it. He didn’t want to play this game.

“Go on, Peaches,” Jacob prompted, clapping his shoulder.

The nickname sparked something angry inside of him, like dragging a match against the sandpaper side of the box. If there’s anything wrong with you, I’m going to kill them, Elliot had said.

Pratt turned his gaze to Joseph. “I thought the Mario Savio part was a bit much.”

A surprised, abrupt laugh barked out of Jacob. Joseph’s expression remained flat and serene. In fact, the only person who seemed to have any negative opinion about his words was Isolde, narrowing her eyes as she turned to look at him fully.

“We’re not exactly looking to hit notes with the intellectuals in the crowd, Deputy Pratt,” she informed him coolly. “They don’t care who said it first. They care who said it better.”

“Y—” Pratt swallowed. “Okay, well—”

“‘Okay, well’ shut the fuck up,” she snapped. “Or I’ll have Jacob take you out back and put you down like Old Yeller.”

“You can’t,” he protested quickly, “Elliot said—”

“Do you think I care in the least what some woman five states away said?” Isolde cut over him quickly, the elegant, soft roll of her accent a strange and unsettling juxtaposition to her words. “I’m getting this ship in fit fucking order, and that means I don’t need you inspiring dissent. Anyone with an opinion that is less than glowing, radiant, gorgeous—they get taken care of, whatever that means. Got it?”

Pratt closed his mouth tightly, until the pressure was beginning to build between his molars. I just have to make it until Elliot gets here, and then—and then I’ll—then I can get—

He took in a little breath. “Yes.”

“Peachy.” Isolde flashed a smile that was all-too-saccharine, and then turned to Joseph. “Let’s sit.”

“Of course.”

They departed to a pew just to the left of them. Jacob was grinning at him, wolfish.

“Thought about telling you she wrote it,” he said, “but that was much more entertaining.”

“You look pale, Staci,” added Arden, her voice light as it redirected from Jacob’s apparent joy at his suffering. “Maybe you should go lay down. I don’t want you straining any of those injuries.”

Okay, he thought, and maybe the words came out of him but he couldn’t tell; he couldn’t tell anymore, but he did want to go lay down. Lay down, and close his eyes, and sleep until Elliot got back.

He’d never been happier at the prospect of seeing an ex-girlfriend.

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When they arrived at the boutique, Sylvia was standing outside, bouncing on the balls of her feet in what Elliot could only assume was an attempt to get warm. It was difficult, to focus on something as inane and arbitrary as dress shopping when she knew that Pratt was back in Hope County, dealing with God-knew-what the Seeds were throwing at him.

Well, the Seeds. And more. The Family, who were supposed to be dead, and—

I hear stress is bad for the baby. A familiar accent, wasn’t it?

“Well, are you just gonna sit in there all day or what?” her mother asked, having stepped out of the passenger side.

“Did you invite Sylvia?”

Scarlet sighed. “I thought it might be nice, for you.”

It was an unexpectedly sincere gesture on her mother’s part. She swallowed a thick emotion down, clearing her throat and managing out, “It—is, mama, thank you,” before she got out of the car and took the keys with her, heading towards the front doors of the main street store.

“Howdy, Freckles!” Sylvia greeted her warmly, throwing her arms around her in a tight hug. “Been a few. Wyatt’s still got your Jeep, he’s been runnin’ it a few minutes a day to make sure the battery doesn’t go bad.” She smiled brightly, turning to Elliot’s mother. “Mrs. Honeysett, you look mighty lovely.”

“Thank you, dear.”

Sylvia tugged the door to the boutique open, ushering them inside so that she could trail in after. The inside of the store was toasty warm, making Elliot regret having worn a scarf, but it was too late now—the coat and scarf combination were doing the work to keep her scar covered.

“I just love this place,” Scarlet sighed, shrugging out of her coat and hanging it on the rack by the door. “What do you think, Elliot? Maybe something blue. I’d put you in green, but with that red hair, you’d look like a Christmas ornament. Blue’s a nice winter color—very fashionable.”

“Sure, mama,” Elliot replied, brushing her fingers along the silk of one of the dresses. The last time she’d been in anything that blue and nice had been back in Hope County. At her “baptism”. The same one Burke had been dragged to, the same one that John had held her under for just a little too long for, maybe distracted by the Marshal’s arrival back then.

“Psst.” The sound of Via’s voice caught her attention, pulling her from the waking memory. The blonde had pulled what appeared to be the most atrocious Christmas gown that could have been looked at off of the rack, holding it up and lifting her eyebrows as Scarlet chatted enthusiastically with the store’s saleswoman.

“Stop it,” Elliot said, fighting back a smile. “You’re not serious.”

“Oh, dead serious, Freckles.”

“It has mistletoe on it, Via.”

“How else am I supposed to fetch a husband, if not by readily-accessible entrapment?”

Well, she thought a little dryly, that is how John got a wife.

It was odd, to think of the moment with anything less than hostility—to have come to a point where there were things more pressing than a marriage that, in the end, might not matter anyway. John had said that he knew the baby didn’t mean she’d take him back; had acknowledged there was no guarantee. For once, he’d shown up in her life with every intention laid bare for her to see.

Maybe not every intention. But she’d root them all out, eventually, and pretend like it hadn’t become something of a game, to catch John in a lie and watch him squirm.

She let the boutique’s owner show her around, clearly making quite a show for her mother, and politely turned down any suggestions for a deep v or off-the-shoulder type of garment. Sylvia had picked out a few; most blue, some blush, a few red, and then loaded some into Elliot’s arms.

“Try ‘em on!” she chirped. “Yes, even the green ones. Maybe your mama doesn’t want an Elliot Christmas ornament, but I do.”

Elliot heaved a sigh, though it was only half-sincere—anything delivered with Sylvia’s bright, cheery smile, she was hard-pressed to feel anything less than good about. Maybe that was dangerous, to be so comfortable with someone.

Or maybe, she thought, closing the dressing room door behind her, that’s just how having friends are. You remember what that was like.

She did. As she undressed and zipped the back of one of the red dresses Sylvia had selected—thoughtfully aware of the fact that she’d want most of her chest covered—she regarded herself in the mirror. There was that stranger again, flushed cheeks and bright eyes staring back at her. A familiar nose shape, a familiar slope of her cheekbones—but the rest of her. Where had she gone?

With one hand she pushed the door open, the other one lifting the back train of the dress as little as she walked out. A grimace had planted itself on her face, even despite Sylvia’s elaborate applause at her appearance.

“Oh, bunny, you look darling,” her mother sighed, having turned to take a look. “What’s the matter? You don’t like it?”

“Not big on the sparkles,” she admitted.

“I like them. You’ve always looked good in red, though. That fair complexion of your father’s.”

Sylvia grinned. “Try on a green one. I wanna imagine how you’ll look on my tree!”

Elliot stuck her tongue out at the blonde, turning around and scurrying back into the changing room. There were a few more dresses—even a green one—that were in the running, but eventually, she’d settled on a floor-length piece, dark blue velvet and halter-topped to get the most sternum coverage. When she’d redressed and rejoined the group outside, her mother was beaming as she gossiped with the boutique owner.

“Elliot’s quite modest,” her mother said conversationally, “and she’s already married, you know.”

“Thank you, mother,” Elliot sighed, a little smile fighting its way onto her face.

“Whatever are you still wearing your coat for? Your face is all red.”

“I’m—” She paused, swallowing. “Still cold.”

Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “Cold? It’s eighty degrees in here. And your face is all red.”

Sylvia had glanced up from across the store, neck-deep in dresses of a warmer shade. Elliot could feel the eyes on her—her friend, her mother, the boutique owner—and she cleared her throat and tugged absently at the tag on the dress.

“It’s fine,” she said after a minute.

“Well, at least take your scarf off.”

“I think it’s a lovely scarf,” the owner tried, a little helplessly.

“Mother, it’s—I’m fine—”

But her mother moved too quickly for her to realize what was happening; her mother’s hand unwound the scarf with expert ease, and then froze, her eyes fixed on what Elliot thought assuredly was the little of her WRATH scar, revealed.

Her stomach rolled. Heat flooded her body, worse than before—it was the kind of sticky-wet heat that came with the threat of throwing up, the kind that crept up the spine and gripped by the nape of the neck. Elliot felt her lashes flutter; she dropped the dress abruptly and yanked the scarf out of her mother’s hands to wind it securely around her neck again. The boutique owner had quickly turned to the clothing rack, as though something very emergent had occurred on the inanimate objects.

Stupid. She was so stupid. She should have just worn a sweater. She shouldn’t have looked at her scar that morning and thought, maybe it is something to love, she shouldn’t have ever risked the chance that her mother would see it, stupidstupidstupid—

“My God,” Scarlet said tightly, the tone of her voice washing Elliot with shame. “What did you do?”

I’m sorry, she wanted to say, automatically. Mama, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m not good anymore, I’m not—

“Phew, I sure am dressed-out,” Sylvia announced, having come over. “I’ll have to go home and weigh my options. Ell, you wanna head outside for some air?”

“I think that’s best,” her mother replied curtly, before Elliot could even think to formulate a sentence. “I’ll finish up in here.”

She thought about trying to say something—trying to explain, maybe, what it was that had happened. But how could she? Her mother had suffered through the years she’d inflicted pain on herself, after daddy and after Mason, and she had told her mother she was better, now. Healed. Good. What could she say, to make it alright?

Because there was no world where she could say, I didn’t want it, and mean it.

Via’s hand fit snugly in hers, tugging her lightly out through the front door of the boutique onto the street. It wasn’t until she took in a lungful of cold, dry air that she realized she’d been holding her breath; her lungs ached, her head swimming, and she was gripping Via’s hand too tightly.

“Hey,” Sylvia said softly, “s’okay.”

It’s not, she thought miserably, it’s not okay, I’m not okay, I want to go—

Where? Where could she go?

I want—

Nowhere? Anywhere?

—to go—

“Home,” she managed out unsteadily, “I should go home—”

Sylvia gave her hand a squeeze. “You want I should give your mama a ride back to the house?”

“Yes.” She swallowed, sniffing. “Yes, please.”

“Okay, Freckles. Sure. You just—maybe you just take a little drive for yourself, collect your thoughts.” Via paused, and then leaned a little to catch Elliot’s eyes; though her vision blurred from the threat of tears, the blonde still smiled a little. “You gonna be okay all by yourself?”

It was a strange question to ask, but Elliot knew what she meant. Are you safe? Alone?

“Yeah,” Ell replied in a thick, watery mumble. “I am.”

“Okay. Can you give me a call when you get home?”

She nodded weakly. Via pulled her into a hug, tight and gentle all at once, enough to make the dam break; just for a little, just for a minute, the tears streaked down her cheeks and caught up in the fabric of the scarf where it wadded against her jaw.

My God, what did you do?

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, pulling back and sucking in a sharp little breath. “Um, I’m really—s-sorry—”

But Via shook her head firmly and brushed some of the hair back from Elliot’s face, wet from her tears. “Don’t apologize. Go get a little breather.”

She fished the keys out of Elliot’s pocket for her, putting them in her hand and hesitating.

“Promise you’ll call,” she reiterated.

Elliot nodded. “I—I promise.”

“Okay. No take-backs.”

“No take-backs.”

Via gave her another hug before ushering her towards the car. As she climbed in and turned the key, her hands shaking, she thought about the way her mother had looked at the scar—with disgust. Horror. Shame. Via hadn’t looked at her like that, when she’d seen it. She’d seemed embarrassed, at having put Elliot in such a position; but not like that. She hadn’t looked horrified.

John didn’t look at it like that. He’d spent a lot of time last night, tracing the shape of the scar with his eyes, with his mouth, reverent and adoring. Makes you hungry, doesn’t it?

At least leaving would be that much easier.

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They came back separately.

When John heard the front door open, he’d been starting a pot of coffee in the kitchen. He poked his head around the archway to look out in the foyer, only to find Scarlet standing there, furiously unbuttoning her coat and dropping her gloves into the drawer. Two dress bags hung on the coat rack.

“Ell outside?” he asked casually, coming around.

“Certainly not,” Scarlet replied tartly. “She’s—”

And then the woman let out a sigh, closing her eyes for a moment—for the first time, Scarlet Honeysett looked to be composing herself, which he thought she was nearly incapable of losing sight of. It seemed even the impenetrable armor of the Honeysett matriarch had its own weaknesses after all.

His tiny little thrill at the sight of Scarlet looking troubled was short-lived, however, because she said, “My daughter walked into the boutique sporting this—wretched scar—”

Oh, he thought, suddenly.

“—never been so humiliated in my whole life—”

Oh, no, because he knew exactly what she was talking about and Elliot would be—

“—have no doubt, Mr. Seed,” Scarlet bit out viciously, “that scar is new and you have certainly not influenced her away from such activities.”

He needed to find Elliot. She would be distraught; why hadn’t she come home with her mother? And why wasn’t Scarlet more pressed concerning her daughter’s well-being?

“And where is she?” John asked, ignoring the stinging anger bubbling in his chest. Wretched scar, she’d said. Like it wasn’t beautiful. Like it wasn’t gorgeous. Like he hadn’t spent a whole night looking at it, running his hands and mouth over it, knowing that Elliot had looked at him and wanted it and trusted him and if there was something more devoted, it was carrying someone’s child. “Elliot? Where is she?”

“Taking a moment to regain her senses,” the blonde replied sharply. “She has vowed to be home soon. Mr. Seed—”

He had gone to reach for his coat, pausing at her words and looking at her expectantly.

Scarlet twisted the gloves in her hands for a moment, her brows pulling together.

“I just think,” she finally said, “that as her husband, you are responsible for her as much as I am. You have to be taking care of her when I’m not around.”

“I do,” he replied.

“Evidence says contrary,” Scarlet snapped. “She has come back to me with more—damage—”

The sound of a car pulling up outside snapped John’s attention elsewhere. He knew that if he stayed much longer in the conversation, they would be leaving sooner than what they had planned, if only because Scarlet wouldn’t tolerate him in the house for the things that he wanted to say to her. Damage, he wanted to say, that is only as bad as it is because it’s compounding on your incessant need to brush aside her problems like they’re nothing, like she didn’t need help then.

“Excuse me,” he muttered, pulling his coat on and opening the door. The rush of cold air bit at his face and hands; Boomer came rushing out around his legs, springing down the steps and hurrying to the driver’s side of the Honda. John was only vaguely aware of the door closing behind him—and it didn’t matter, anyway.

She didn’t open the door when Boomer got there, scrabbling at it for her eagerly. She kept her hands on the top of the steering wheel and pressed her forehead into it, the engine ticking as it cooled. When John got there, he reached for the door handle to tug it open. Elliot hit the lock button.

“Ell,” John said, “open the door.”

She lifted her head tiredly from the steering wheel. Where her hand sat over the lock button, her fingers trembled a little, and her face was flushed—not with health, but with the sickly red of feverish, panicked crying.

“Baby,” he tried again, a little more urgently, putting his hand on the glass of the window, “Boomer wants to see you.”

Elliot’s eyes were fixed on his jacket. “Would you—” She stopped, her voice muffled by the glass, and then she took a deep breath and said, “Would you even be here if I wasn’t pregnant?”

“What?” John blinked at her.

“If I didn’t have the baby,” she tried again, her voice thick and watery with unshed tears, that pouty lower lip trembling, “would you have even come for me?”

He stared at her. It had never occurred to him, that there might be a world in her head where he didn’t come for her, where he didn’t find her, where he didn’t try and bring her back.

“Of course I would,” John said, drawing her eyes to him. “I love you, Elliot.” And then, more urgently: “I love you, with or without the baby.”

She looked away from him, then, staring out the other side of the window, fingers curling uselessly against the steering wheel even as the keys lay in the passenger seat—like she wanted to run. Like she wanted to floor it, and go somewhere, anywhere.

“Open the door, Ell.” He swallowed thickly. “Won’t you?”

The door lock clicked. He tugged at the handle and it opened with ease, Boomer instantly shoving his face into Elliot’s side and whining, tail wagging so furiously his whole body moved with it. John pushed the door open the rest of the way and reached for her, and her hand caught his wrist and pulled, and she buried her face into his chest and trembled like a leaf in a breeze.

“I’m so tired,” she moaned miserably into his chest, hiccupping with grief, “I want to go home.”

John wrapped his arms around her, one hand cradling the back of her head and keeping her tugged close.

“I know,” he said. “We’ll go. We will, I promise, Ell, okay?”

“Please—” The redhead pulled back to look at him. “I can’t—you can’t—lie to me, anymore—”

“I know,” John said again, a little helplessly, brushing his thumb across her cheekbone. She was clutching him so tightly he was sure her nails would leave marks on his skin, even through the fabric of his clothes.

“I won’t.”

#far cry 5 fic #fc5 fic #ch: elliot honeysett #ch: john seed #john seed/female deputy #fic: witching hour #john seed x female deputy #my writing #otp: death keep off; i am your enemy #this chapter is about as long as the last one but also feels so much: bigger #thank u to everyone who reached out to me for the last two chapters it literally !!!!!#makes my whole fucking day #when i get feedback or even just to chat with some of y'all #*smooches u*

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marvelousell · 4 years

Text

The Agreement (Part 8.)

Pairing(s): frat boy!fwb!Tom x reader, frat boy!Harrison x reader

Summary: Tom is a typical frat boy, his love for partying, drinks and girls are bigger than his ego. Y/N is a whole different dimension, she keeps her circle small, and even though she knows her best friend Tom is a total douche, she can’t say no to the little deal that was sealed between the two of them.

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: I really loved this chapter, Tom and his feelings are making me weak af😫, can’t wait for him to finally say something. I’m also so happy that you all love this series because the drama is coming lol. I would appreciate it if you leave a comment, reblog or send a feedback if you liked this part!❤️

My tag list is open for this series!

Warnings: kinda angsty, swearing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of smut

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7.

Masterlist

“Look who is the centre of the world today.” Anna said lowly as her eyes were glued on the large group of people in front of us.

It was Tom of course with his fellow frat boys. Not just girls but boys were around them as well, laughing at what he was talking.

Probably something unimportant as always.

“I’m sorry but these girls are blind and naïve. Ten girls drooling over a frat boy. Poor girls don’t know how he rolls, or they do but talking around that they slept with the hottest guy in college is totally worth it for them.” She continued rambling to both you and Mel.

Yeah poor girls.

“I find it kinda boring. Doesn’t he get tired of them? I mean I get it he likes the attention but isn’t it a bit too much sometimes?” Mel joined the conversation, you on the other side remained quiet.

You didn’t want to say a thing, you fell under the spell just like the other girls did.

However you saw someone else behind Tom’s façade. No one could tell you that he enjoyed just the sex, and that he didn’t crave a warm touch and love from a partner.

That was bullshit and you knew it.

He opened up to you, spilled the truth and you understood the fear that was eating him, but what you didn’t understand is why he closed his heart for everyone.

It wasn’t okay, he needed to see how love wasn’t as daunting and terrifying as he thought.

You were sure that he isn’t that guy that he and others claimed to be.

“Y/N?” A muffled voice brought you back to reality, making you turn your head immediately.

“Huh?”

“You zoned out. I honestly need to tell Harrison that he was so incredible that he got you all disorganized.” She giggled alongside with Mel.

“Yeah..Yes sorry I was just thinking about the date and all that.” You murmured, feeling Tom’s eyes fixed on yours.

It was a common thing, he would stare at every girl, give a little wink while his mouth curved into a smile.

He had the most beguiling brown eyes that left every single girl wanting more.

Somehow this stare felt a little warmer, like he wanted to show something.

“Oh he is coming here.” Anna whispered.

Tom excused himself, making his way to his three friends.

“Good morning ladies.” He crunched, giving a small smile.

“Tom.” Anna greeted, still a bit disappointed in her friend but she couldn’t stay fake angry at him forever.

“Not happy to see me Ann? C’mon.” He stood up engaging her in a hug.

“I’m sorry for my behaviour, you know how I can get stupid when I have a few beers too much.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t that angry just wanted to hear the word sorry from you love.” She answered.

“Gosh you’re so hard to handle. Anyways as you know, or don’t never mind, our frat is throwing a party on Friday.”

“Wow a party? Again? How’s that possible?” Amelia added sarcastically, laughing during it.

“So hilarious Mel, no really I just wanted to let you know about that.” His eyes shifted to your figure, trying his best not to stare too long.

“Don’t worry for us Tom we always come, but our miss ‘my head is in the clouds because a certain boy is on my mind’ is not a fan of that.” The smile never left Anna’s face as she turned towards you waiting for an answer.

“I don’t know..” You began, feeling unsure about a party where you would probably just find yourself looking for Tom and with who he was there or for Harrison.

“Your boyfriend will be there as well sweetheart.” Tom stated with his gravelly voice, like something was bothering him.

“He is not my boyfriend.” You answered, just like you did the previous night.

“Yet.”

You all went silent for a second after that, but it felt like an eternity for you. His eyes were focused on your tired ones. The ones he loved to see when your walls would tighten around him while the orgasm washed over you and the ones that were always shut when you laughed at something.

Tom wanted you there, he wanted to see you on that stupid party.

Even if it meant that he needed to persuade Harrison to bring you with him.

The feeling of your body close to his, your soft lips pressing against his made him feel dizzy, he wanted you by his side forever.

Tom never thought about anyone in that way. Sure he enjoyed a second, hell sometimes even a third time sex with the same girl, but never did a feeling made an appearance like this while he was with them. There wasn’t something that made him want to come back to the girls and crave more out of it.

With you it was different and he knew it. The feeling was new and it scared him, so he tried to tell himself that it’s because you two were best friends not strangers and that was the reason why he was like that.

“By the end of the night you will be his Y/N I assure you.” Anna’s sweet voice made you break the eye contact with him.

“Who says I’m going?” You crossed your arms over your chest, looking at them.

“We will come Tom.” She confirmed, knowing you will eventually give up when you hear that Harrison was going too.

“Good, can’t wait to see you.” Tom responded, giving you a one last glance before going back to his friends.

“I’m not wearing this.” You argued as you looked yourself in the mirror.

The black cliché dress hugged your body perfectly you couldn’t deny that, it was just not your cup of tea.

“Please Y/N just this time! I really like it, it suits you, look at you you’re gorgeous!” Amelia practically begged, wanting to doll you up for tonight.

Of course you accepted to go. Harrison asked you if he would see you there, and you didn’t want to say no. You missed him. Ever since that night, he didn’t leave your head. It was something about the touch and how he was gentle with you, always making sure he didn’t overstep something. A big difference between Tom and him.

“Harrison will be having the hots for you, listen to us.” Anna joined her, waiting for your approval.

“Fine.” You shrugged, the screeching filling the room.

“Are you nervous for tonight? You know a relationship after a while.”

“Kind of Ann, Harrison is the most tender-hearted guy I ever met. I don’t know how he was single until now, he just screams ‘I’m the most caring boyfriend’.”

“Harrison was a bit disappointed after his last relationship, he thought that he didn’t give enough but it wasn’t his fault he was so in love with a girl that just didn’t put him first.”

Is she talking about the same girl Tom mentioned?

“What happened?” You asked, hoping she will give you some informations.

“I think it’s Harrison’s duty to tell you that. Don’t sweat it, she is in the past, look at him now! He is over the moon ever since he met you. I would gladly have someone like him in my life, don’t stress much he adores you.”

Every girl would love to have someone like him undoubtably.

Harrison made you enjoy the blissful time you had together, always showing you how a beauteous girl you really were, especially to him.

That is the only thing that mattered.

“This is why I don’t go to events like this.” You uttered monotonously, eyeing the dim house that was a mess already.

Usually when you attended parties like this your mind and eyes would be focused on Tom that would chat and flirt with various girls around, making you look so miserable and disconsolate that it was actually tragical.

Tonight it was just Harrison that made you actually exhilarated.

You’re eyes were roaming through the crowd, searching for the familiar blue eyes.

You were so engaged in the search, that you didn’t feel or see Tom who was a few steps away from you, staring at your figure.

He already found the petite blonde from the previous party here, sharing a few innocent kisses with her.

However she became bland, dull right when you stepped inside the house.

Tom never saw you like this. It wasn’t your style, you would say always to him how that kind of dresses were lacking originality. Guess everyone changes their mind.

He wasn’t drunk, but you sure made him feel intoxicated and that terrified him. You were just so beautiful, genuinely beautiful.

“Don’t be so afraid to let love into your heart, you’re a lovely person Tom.” The words haunted him as well as your sweet voice from that evening. He would lie if he said he didn’t consider that. Especially after the kiss you shared that made his stomach turn upside down.

You were still standing there, playing with the edges of your tight black dress that was wrapped around your figure perfectly.

At that moment he was pushing himself to go where you were standing, the girl he was with was talking to her friends so she wouldn’t even notice that he was gone for a minute.

Who would have thought that a ladies man like him would struggle to go talk to a girl.

He took a deep breath, starting to walk towards you, however he froze immediately seeing Harrison wrapping his hands around your waist.

Tom’s jaw was clenching, eyes still on his two best friends that looked so content.

“Fuck this.” He muttered, turning around to go look for his friends.

You on the other hand were shaking.

Harrison was feeling anxious as well. He became even more nervous when he saw you.

His instant thought was how winsome you looked and how much he was lucky that a girl like you was interested in him.

The broad smile was pure, real and he didn’t want to hide it.

“Love, you look astonishing tonight.” He whispered in your ear, giggles escaping past your lips.

“Oh please, you’re stealing all the looks tonight for sure.” You placed one hand on his chest, loving how talking wasn’t making you feel uneasy like the first time.

“Stealing them now only because a stunning lady is by my side.”

“But I kinda don’t want others to stare.” He added, cupping your cheeks carefully kissing you, not wanting to wait a second anymore.

God he was dreaming about your pinkish lips that tasted like cherry. It was driving him crazy how a girl could made him feel like this.

The butterflies erupted in his stomach during the kiss, just the thought that he will ask you tonight to be his got him all thrilled.

“If you keep smiling like that I won’t be able to restrain myself. Gosh you have the most softest lips.” He stated, rubbing small circles on your cheek.

“Who says you should restrain yourself?” You asked, smirking at him.

He let out a bashful chuckle, going in for another kiss but he was forestalled by you. Harrison could see how relaxed you were in his hands, softly moving your lips in a perfect rhythm.

“A drink my lady?” He spoke, stroking your hip.

“Absolutely.”

“So did he ask you?”

It was just you girls now. Harry, Harrison and Tom were on the other side of the garden, to engaged in a silly game.

“No.” You spitted, eyes glued on his body and Tom’s as well.

They weren’t alone, girls were practically jumping on them.

“If you keep staring at him like that you’re eyes will fall out.” Amelia laughed, looking at your face that didn’t show any emotion.

“Good, because I don’t want to look at that.”

Harrison was clearly not interested in that brunette that was trying her best to seduce him, you saw it, but the sight was still bothering you.

“Look, he is clearly giving her signals that he is not fascinated by her.” Anna pointed at the table they were standing next to.

“And then look at our Tom. He is eye fucking that girl right there in front of everybody. They are definitely two different worlds I don’t know how these two are best friends, but you sure don’t need to worry about Harrison babe.”

That was true. She had her arms around his waist, resting her head on his chest. It was obvious they are going home together tonight.

It was the same girl you saw him with at Harry’s house. Looks like he got the message about settling down.

Is he then going to realize that this between you won’t function?

Too much unanswered questions.

“Having fun without us?” The sound of chairs moving made you look up from your boring drink.

“Looks like you had fun without us.” Mel said, tapping Tom’s back.

“Hey.” Harrison whispered, running his thumb up and down your shoulder.

“Hey.” Your voice flat, mouth set in a hard line when you saw the blonde approaching your table.

“Here you go Tom.” She gave the drink to him, her honeyed voice filling your ears.

“Thanks a lot love. This is Gracie, Gracie these are my friends.” Tom introduced her to the group, bringing her closer to his body.

She looked gorgeous, she was probably a good girl as well. It was just the jealousy that made you think otherwise.

You glanced into their direction every minute, hoping Tom’s eyes would already be looking at you. However he was too focused on his girl.

You tried to stop thinking about him because you knew you didn’t even cross his mind.

“You look incredible Y/N, I know I already told you but I thought you needed to hear it once more.” Harrison spoke lowly in you ear, the hot breath tickling your skin making you chuckle.

“You two are making my heart swell with happiness honestly.” Anna grabbed the attention from everyone. Their eyes fixed on you two cuddling.

“Man..Harrison couldn’t keep his mouth shut after his date, believe me Y/N you were in my dreams that night because he was talking non-stop about you.” Harry added, making the whole group laugh at how Harrison was smitten.

“Fuck off mate, it’s not my fault that she is the most amazing and loving person I’ve met.” Harrison replied, wanting to show absolutely every person how much he liked you.

You just hid your face in his chest from the stares and whistles that came after Harrison’s words. They were all smiling, Gracie as well, happy to see you two in love.

However Tom was battling with the pang of jealousy that he felt towards the couple.

Tom was trying to stop looking at you the whole night, shit he even grabbed Gracie to keep him company just so he could try erase the picture of you kissing him and moaning underneath him.

Why did he have such strong emotions for you? There was no way he was feeling something more. You were really good friends and the sex was just a bonus.

Was he wrong? Did he just deny that because he didn’t want to start anything more than sex? Or because he didn’t want to hurt Harrison?

“I’m sorry I need to go to the bathroom.” You excused yourself.

This was Tom’s chance to go see you.

Thank God everyone else was standing up from the table at that moment, so he could made something up and not look suspicious.

“Want a drink? I’m gonna need a refill.” He asked Gracie, praying that she won’t offer to go with him.

“Sure, the usual.” She answered, placing a kiss near the corner of his mouth.

Tom just rushed inside, hoping there wasn’t a lot of people upstairs.

You were stepping outside the bathroom at that moment, Tom catching you completely off guard.

“Fucking hell, you scared me.” You screeched, catching your breath.

“Calm down love, it’s just me.” He trapped you, your back was pressed against the wall and his body was close to yours.

“What do you need.” It wasn’t a question because you could assume what he wanted.

“Just wanted to talk. Was trying to come to you the whole night but looks like Osterfield didn’t give me a single chance.” He gave you a lopsided grin, eyes travelling from your breasts to your lips that looked so kissable at that moment.

“God Y/N why are you messing with mind like this?” He thought to himself.

“He didn’t stop you from doing anything. You just had a great time with Gracie, that’s why you probably didn’t have the time or chance to come and talk to me.” You responded in a gravelly tone.

“What’s the matter love? This is not about Gracie now.” He lifted his hand to your face to stroke your flushed cheek gently, but you were not buying it, removing his hand instantly.

You craved the feeling of his lips and hands around your body, but you were just so distracted by the image of him and her that you refused to do something.

“And it’s not about Harrison either.”

You were both jealous, but to stubborn to say it.

After all you two were nothing, so the term jealousy would sound ridiculous since you agreed that you both could have someone during this deal.

“Yeah? Well you were so into him the whole night, sharing kisses, innocent touches and all that sweet shit that you couldn’t even say hi to me.” He raised his voice, not ready for a fight that was absolutely unnecessary.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now Tom? What should I do? Leave my date and go looking for you? Do you hear yourself now? I like him and he likes me of course I will enjoy my time with him! Why are you all of a sudden so bitter about it?” You were fuming.

It was so confusing, why is he so angry about it now?

“And if I’m correct you shared a good amount of kisses as well, hell you almost fucked her in front of everybody. You’re being stupid right now.”

“You’re so hot when you’re jealous.” He murmured, not giving you a chance to say anything.

Tom pinned you back against the wall smashing his lips to yours. You didn’t push him, fuck you wanted him how could you?

It was a rough and steamy make out, his hands were squeezing your sides during it, and yours were lost in his hair.

A shallow groan escaped from your mouth, making Tom dip his tongue past your lips.

The adrenaline was running through your body, you two were in front of the bathroom anyone could pass by and see you.

“Fuck, T-Tom we need to stop someone could come.” You broke the kiss, breathing heavily.

“Fuck this stupid party I want you.” He responded, trying to kiss you again.

“Tom seriously, we need to go back before someone suspects something.”

“Not fair sweetheart..I just want to have my time with you. Like others.” Tom was feeling like a child when a toy would be taken away from them.

“Tomorrow, movie night? I’m free the whole day.” You suggested, biting your lip when he pressed a sloppy kiss to your neck.

“Sounds perfect beautiful.”

“G-good, now I need to go find Harrison before he thinks something happened.” You uttered, marching towards the stairs.

Fuck Harrison, fuck Gracie, fuck everyone.

He raked his fingers through his hair, thinking about Harrison.

Tom and him were best mates and he wanted him to be happy, he really did. But he turned out as a shit friend possibly getting attached to his friend’s soon to be girlfriend.

You were walking through the crowd, hoping someone from your group would eventually show up. Your legs were hurting, you were still in shock from the make out and Tom’s words were echoing in your ears.

Were you really that obvious? Did Harrison suspect a thing about your jealousy towards Tom and Gracie?

A large pair of hands stopped you in your tracks. The well known warmth made you relax, turning your face to the person.

“Looking for someone?” He asked, placing his palm on your lower back.

“Ah no one special really, just a very handsome guy that I daydreamed about ever since we went out.” You continued the act, making you both grin.

“Oh really? Would you maybe want to go to my place and tell me more about him? He wouldn’t mind don’t worry.”

“Why not?” You accepted it, heart skipping a beat when you thought about possibly becoming his girlfriend.

This was so tough.

Tom then Harrison. Both of them made your mind go crazy, both of them were incredibly hot. But they were so different.

Anna was right, they were two different worlds. Tom had that reputation, he loved to see girls around him all the time. However there was something that made your body always go mad when he was near you. Also not to mention your long crush that you couldn’t throw away, that made it even more difficult.

On the other side there was Harrison, a soft-hearted and warm person that was totally your type. There was nothing wrong, you wanted to be with him so bad, there was a spark between you without a doubt.

You knew that he was the one you should go for. You knew it because he would make you forget everything and everyone when you were with him.

Even Tom.

He showed you how much he liked you and how much he wanted you, maybe it’s about time to show him that you wanted him as well.

Maybe the feelings and the crush on Tom should be forgotten just like the deal until he doesn’t make up his mind and shows what he really needed.

Tag List

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monsoonblooms12 · 3 years

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Detectives By Chance: Chapter 5- Buried Remembrances

A/N: Hi, how is everyone doing? Honestly I don’t know how I am doing. I had a massive breakdown just now and my mom is still yelling at me. Everything has just been a mess. So, please ignore any mistakes, and I am really sorry if it is not good. I am just not in the best state of mind rn and if I don’t post it, I will never get it done. Sorry for the ramble and I hope you still enjoy reading whatever this is 💛

Series Summary: It was supposed to be a usual weekend for the four. Coffee, fun, friends and love. But an unexpected case changed their lives in a way they had never imagined. A mystery - a murder - many secrets… Will Ethan, Pooja, Alexandra and Mark, be able to survive? Or will the circumstances twist and break their lives forever?

Pairing: Ethan × f!MC (Dr. Pooja Sharma)

Disclaimer: PB owns most of the characters. I only own the OCs and my MC.

Word count: ~2K

Triggers: Mentions of blood, murder

But the memories that hang heaviest are the easiest to recall. They hold in their creases the ability to change one's life, organically, forever. Even when you shake them out, They've left permanent wrinkles in the fabric of your soul.

Ethan, Pooja and Alex were stupefied on seeing Mark's condition. He was the jolliest man they have ever known, his happy-go-lucky personality and on-point sense of humour acted as a charm on the surrounding people. This was one of the qualities which made him an amazing doctor because he could relieve patients from their sorrows and pain and make them open up.

But seeing him like this, so broken, so fragile made them realize that a smile sometimes hides a thousand scars behind it.

"Mark, listen to me!! I cannot see you like this. Please calm down. I am damn worried" Alex said, keeping tears at the brink.

"Lex, I love you. You are my strength, my power. Hell, you are my everything. Don't cry. If you cry, I won't be able to tell what I want to. And the pain will again kill me inside." Mark pleaded.

"Okay, I will try to keep as calm as possible. But, promise me, if matters start getting out of hand, you will stop." Alex said.

"Yes, Mark. If someone knows something about painful childhoods that is Ethan and me. So if you can't talk about it, you won't talk about it. We are heck worried about you, man!" Pooja said.

"I Promise. If I feel like having a nervous breakdown, I will stop. But please hear me out. These memories have stayed hidden for so long that now they feel like a burden. I need to get them out."

Then Mark began continuing his story,

"Remember when I told you in the car that I had a brother?"

"Yes, you said that. I suppose your pain was caused by your brother's death?" Ethan asked

"Ha Ha Ha" Mark let out a bitter laughter. "No, that man is not dead. Yes, my pain is caused by my brother but not by his death. By his deeds."

"He was my favourite person in the world. He was my best friend, my study partner, the person who would listen to my endless rambles. He was the only person who understood me and my thoughts. Or, at least that's what I th-th-thought."

Mark paused, face pale. Something was not right.

"Mark, are you alright? MARK!?" Alex exclaimed.

Mark was slowly losing consciousness. He said slowly, "P-P-Please t-t-take m-me-home... I-I c-can't stand b-being here."

The three sprang into action. Ethan helped Mark in the backseat of the car. Alex sat beside him, placing his head on her shoulder. Pooja sat in the passenger seat. Ethan got behind the wheel and drove to their penthouse.

After reaching, they seated Mark and tried to change the topic for him to feel better. The tension cooled down, and Mark felt better.

"You all are the damn best people in the world. I could never imagine anyone to be so concerned for me. Everybody used to see a happy face and think I am fine. But no one understood my pain like you three do." Mark said, gratitude and love shining in his eyes.

"But, I need to complete my tale. Now that I am feeling better and that we are home, I am sure there will be no more troubles."

Mark continued his story.

"Also, did I tell you that my brother was my inspiration to become a doctor? He was the first doctor in our family. When he was in Med school, he used to tell me the things he learnt. He built that interest for medicine in me."

"Wait a sec!" Pooja stopped him abruptly. "Stop me if I am over-stepping, but your brother is a doctor?! But, But-" She couldn't complete the sentence, but everyone understood what she was thinking.

"Baby, we should not jump into conclusions. Let Mark complete." Ethan stopped her from putting out her thoughts.

"Yes, my brother is or at least was a doctor. B-Before he, he..." Mark stuttered.

"Before he was arrested."

The three gasped. Mark's brother, was arrested?!

"Wait what, he was... arrested? But why? " Alex said, surprise in her tone.

"He, he was arrested for prescribing the WRONG DOSES OF MEDICINES TO HIS PATIENTS" Mark shouted, anger boiling and tears welling up in his eyes. "HE FREAKING MURDERED AT LEAST 3 OF HIS PATIENTS BECAUSE HE PRESCRIBED THEM SUPER HIGH DOSES OF THEIR DRUGS" The tears left his eyes.

"A-And he didn't stop there. He tried to k-k-kill our dad. He...He tried to inject a heavy dose of benzodiazepine to our dad." Mark completed. The horror and shock was evident on the other three's faces. Mark's brother, tried... to kill his dad? But why?

"But why in god's name did he ever do that?" Ethan asked.

"No one knows. The police questioned him for days, months, but got no reply. The only thing he used to do was laugh on their faces and tell them that he will get his revenge." Mark said.

"The day he was arrested, since that day he was considered dead by our family. But the news had a devastating effect on our family. Patients called, hurled abuses, threatened to kill. The neighbours threatened to throw us out. With my dad being sick, me and my mom had to bear it all. All this broke her. So once I got into residency, I took my mom and dad out of that horrid place and brought them to NYC with me."

"But their joy lasted less. My mom, she died within six months of transferring. My dad stayed a little longer. T-The last day of my residency was the last day of is life. And you know what were his last words?"

"What?" The other three asked in unison.

"Don't become Miles" Mark says, tears flowing down his eyes. But, as the three observed, a sense of calm spread through his face. As if a weight had been lifted, from his soul.

"So your brother's name was..."

"Miles, yaa."

"Mark, I hope you are feeling better now. Getting that all out, it must have been a hell of a pain." Pooja asked, remembering her painful childhood.

"Yes, it is. God, I needed to do this. Now I am feeling so fresh, so new. I can finally leave those dark times behind me and start leaving a new life." Mark spoke with a flicker of new hope, new life.

All the while, listening to Mark's story, Pooja was thinking about her pain. Her tale, her own story. She saw how calm and peaceful Mark was after getting it all out. Even after trying, she couldn't remember him being this peaceful, anytime before. She realized that today or tomorrow, she had to take it all out. No matter how hard she tried to bury it, it would come out.

"Mark, do you think, you-your brother could do..." Alex asked with a bit of uneasiness.

"Nothing impossible for a man who tried to kill his father. And also, I am damn sure if the card brought us to my childhood neighbourhood, it would lead to his private clinic. Only he had his practice set up there." Mark scoffed.

"We should look into that. But first we need to check on the questions we had written in our notebook. We need to complete the research as soon as possible. Mark, Lex, can you stay here for the night, we could finish it today itself if you two could be here." Ethan said.

"Yaa, we surely can. No, we would love to. You know, whose is a better tension-calmer than me, hmm? I am a humour boss." And with that, old Mark was back.

"Sure, Mark, sure. But maybe the points to the best sarcasm goes to Lex?" Ethan chuckled.

"Ohh, Ramsey. That's what makes me and Walton soulmates." Mark said, trying to pull Alex into a hug.

"Mark, SHUT UP! You know I hate hugs. I hugged you earlier because I was hecking worried. Now, hush!" Alex said, trying to hide a giggle and spectacularly failing

After a few more moments of laughter, the four set to work. They thought they would not find much about their questions on the 'net, but what they read shocked them more and more. As they got the information, they started writing it down below the respective questions.

1. Who is Mr Davis? Why was he targeted?

Richard Davis. 43. Investment banker. Originally pursuing Medicine, later went on to pursue his interest in investment banking.

2nd part: No answer

2. Why did no one from his associations never come to question about him?

No answers

3. Why did the murderer target Pooja and Alex? How does he know them?

No answer. But speculating that the murderer is Miles Danvers.

4. How was the murder committed?

Acute cyanide poisoning. Throat slit afterwards.

5. Addresses.

Address No. 1 checked, the MedMinders Store. Not checked Address 2 but is possibly Miles Danvers's private clinic.

6. MedMinders Drug Store

Checked. Valuable information received.

7. D.I.B.S.15

No Idea.

"So far, so less. We are beautifully lacking on information." Mark remarked.

"Agreed. Agreed. But wasn't this man supposed to be high-profile?" Alex said

"Maybe high-profile with full pockets. Not fame." Pooja said.

Ethan however, did not partake in the discussion. He was busy thinking something.

"Ethan? What are you thinking?" Pooja asked on seeing his furrowed eyebrows."

"I think I might know what D.I.B.S.15 means," Ethan said

"What? I mean, how? That could mean anything" Alex said, visibly surprised.

"No, not anything. I think it means, 'Davis, Investment Banker, Scam 2015" Ethan put out his thoughts.

"D, understood, I.B, understood, but S and 15? How did you deduce them to be scam 2015?" Pooja asked.

"I remember reading about it. It was one of the biggest investment scams ever. And it was speculated that some high-profile investment banker was behind it. But the real culprit was never caught." Ethan laid out his thoughts.

"So, this man is a fish of the deep waters. He is so much more than what we thought." Mark said

"And that also means that if somebody had come to know about it, then he had enough enemies. This mystery is getting tangled with every passing moment." Alex said.

While talking and discussing possible theories, they looked at the clock. 2 at night.

"Oh, dear! We have work tomorrow. God, let's get some sleep, otherwise we will be like living zombies in the halls tomorrow." Pooja said, giggling.

The four tidied up the living room, said their goodnights and went to sleep.

The nightmares began again. Pooja couldn't sleep an ounce. She was too afraid to close her eyes. The memories terrified her.

Enough. No more nightmares. No more suffering. No more sleepless nights. She was tired of feeling so powerless.

"Ethan, Ethan" She gave him a jerk.

"What is it, Poo? Are you okay, is it the nightmares again?" Ethan woke up with a start.

"I need to tell you. All about this. I cannot bear it any more." Pooja said.

"I am all ears, baby. Tell me everything. If this can make you sleep, I am ready to wake all night to listen to you." Ethan said, pulling her in his arms.

Enclosed in his arms, she laid it all in front of him. The way her mother was murdered. The way she was kidnapped when she was only 11. The terror she felt when she was all alone. The horror when she saw the bloody knife. And the heartbreak and pain she felt when it was found out to be her aunt, her mother's sister was behind all it. The disgust that she felt towards her when she revealed her sinister plans, her hunger for money.

At last, everything was out. As if she was free. As if now, there were no troubles in her life. But what happened till now was only the taste of a sinister plan. The actual dish was yet to be served.

PS: If you have come this far, I am truly grateful to you. I just hope to be at a better place the next time and be okay. But I will stop this ramble now and I hope you have a great day ahead💕

Tags: @bbrandy2002 @kaavyaethanramsey @ohramsey @hopelessromanticmonie @trrfanaddict @nervoussaladsludgeopera @imonlybibecauseofethanramsey @lovablegranny @bellcat2010 @gkittylove99 @kingliam2019@3riche @chetachisblog @starrystarrytrouble @arcticrivers @aylaramseycarrera @drariellevalentine @mvalentine @aestheticartsx@angela8754 @schnitzelbutterfingers @ao719 @choicesstan1 @nikki-2406 @neotericthemis @openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations

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knittingdreams · 3 years

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Fireheart - Chapter 1

Okay, I guess I’m just gonna start uploading this here because the more the merrier, right? This is the third platform where I’m uploading this story lol But I just really want people to read, cause... That’s why I wrote it, to try make people smile (okay, and cry a little) and I’m in love with it <3

You can find many many chapters in Ao3

So, first and foremost, thank you @fleetingpieces for believing in this story when it was just a random idea in my brain that went something like “OMFG! What if Celaena was in a world without magic and she had to attend HS?” And then I started babbling for like... an hour... and through it all, @fleetingpieces listened to my rambling and interjected with ‘ahs’ and ‘ohs’ and ‘aws’ and then told me I should really write this story because she wanted to read it... so... I better stop rambling and let you read it ;)

CHAPTER 1

Returning to the Living

She was so used to getting up at twilight and staying up all night, that being in the principal’s office at the early hour of seven thirty in the morning felt almost like torture. And Celaena Sardothien surely knew her fair share about torture.

“Good morning, Miss Sardothien, please come in,” the principal called as he signaled her in from the door of his office.

Begrudgingly, she followed him in as she stifled a yawn. She sat down in front of the old man, arranging her skirt and tucking in the front of the uniform’s white blouse.

“It is a pleasure to have you in our school,” the principal started. “I hope you settle quickly into the spirits of Adarlan Elite High, and to make sure of it, I have arranged for the president of the student council to give you a tour of the grounds. He was kind enough to come in early for this.” His voice was monotonous, like he was bored of speaking with teens all day, but he sounded stern at the same time, as if 'settling into the spirit' actually meant 'sticking to the rules'.

He had no idea that wasn’t going to be the case, Celaena had already broken more rules than most students, and she had yet to start her first day.

She heard the steps in the hallway before the door opened, and she turned around with her best smile at the same time as principal Allsbrook spoke again.

“Chaol Westfall, this is our new exchange student, Celaena Sardothien. Miss. Sardothien, this is Mr. Westfall, the president of the student council.”

If it wasn’t for all her training, her jaw would have fallen open; she knew him. The guy standing by the door wore his uniform immaculate and perfectly ironed, there was even that straight little line at the front of his dress pants. His white shirt was tidy and tucked in, his tie pulled almost all the way up; his chestnut hair was cut short on the sides and a little longer in the middle, styled with gel; and his copper-brown eyes were piercing into her, his eyebrows slightly lowered.

She was pretty sure he had recognized her.

“Morning, Celaena,” he said, smiling politely.

“Good morning to you, Chaol, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said in an effort to be polite back, if only to keep the charade of a good girl in front of the old man sitting at the desk.

She hoped for the slight chance that he wouldn't remember meeting her a few weeks back, or that he didn’t recognize her with the small change of appearance.

“Okay, off you go into the tour, I have plenty of things to do, and another student to greet soon,” the principal dismissed them with a wave of his hand.

Celaena followed Chaol out of the office, hoping that he wouldn’t mention the day they ran into each other in the secretary’s office. She hadn’t thought there would be any students in the school's grounds during holidays; but of course the nerd of the class had been there and had almost found her hacking into the school’s database. She had been fast, getting off the computer, jumping over the counter and seating in the waiting area just before Chaol had walked in the door.

She had claimed to be waiting for the secretary, that there were some papers she had to hand in; and she hoped that’d been enough to fool him.

“So, why does a senior student transfer schools?” Chaol asked her after showing her around for a while. “Wouldn’t you want to graduate with all your friends?”

“I transferred because I had to move here, and the reason I moved is none of your concern,” she quipped, not being able to repress the little hiss sound escaping her lips. There was something about the guy, he was already pissing her off.

“Interesting,” he muttered under his breath. “Well, welcome to Rifthold then,” he said as he led her towards a new hallway. “So, this is the cafeteria,” he pointed to a set of double doors at the end of the hall. “And the gymnasium is in the next building over, out that side door,” he added, gesturing to their right.

They walked around for a few more minutes while she pretended not to know the place like she knew the palm of her hand. She had meticulously studied the blueprint of the building, and had snuck in during the night a few times to get familiar with her new surroundings.

“That’s about it, you can ask around if you get lost,” he finished, looking at his wrist watch. “We should go now, or else we’ll be late for the first period, missing homeroom is enough. Let me see,” he added pointing at the schedule in Celeana’s hand.

She passed it over to him and Chaol looked at it quickly and smiled, but there was still an odd look in his eyes. She could tell he didn’t fully trust her; she’d had to work on that.

“We’re together for the first two periods, so follow me,” he said.

“Sure thing,” she replied, flashing him with one of her best grins.

They walked into the classroom, and Celaena was already calculating her odds. Would this be the type of school where they had you introduce yourself? She half hoped not, but a part of her hoped it was; it would be good to read people’s expressions from the front of the room. And she couldn't deny she'd enjoy the attention.

She was only half disappointed when the teacher barely looked at her and nodded. “Oh, yes, one of the new students,” the guy said. He must have been in his late thirties, and looked a bit bored, but Celaena couldn’t help but notice how he glanced at her up and down quickly. “Just grab a seat wherever you want,” he brushed her off.

She analyzed the room and decided to sit around the middle, but to one side, so she’d have the security of the wall to her left, and the gossiping girls sitting to her right. She could already hear their whispers and see their eyes turning her way, heads close together as they talked.

“Oh my God,” one of the girls was saying, “I think she’s got potential for prom queen.” Her voice was a little too loud to be considered a whisper.

“Shush, she can probably hear you! But you’re right, she’ll be good competition for Lysandra. Do you reckon she’ll join the bees? Looks like the type,” the second one replied.

Lysandra, she saved that name into her brain. Probably the queen of this school; pretty girls normally meant trouble, so she’d better keep her eyes and ears on that one.

“Have you seen the new junior already?” The first one asked after a few more hushed whispers. Celaena leaned on an elbow closer to them, pretending to look at the front while she eavesdropped.

“I haven’t, but I’ve heard he’s to die for!”

“He’s really tall and handsome." Celaena rolled her eyes at that. "I hope I have some classes with him…. Do you know what his name is?”

“I think it’s Samuel.”

“Okay, attention class,” the teacher interrupted.

Celeana was glad for the interruption, she had had enough of the girls' gossip for the moment being, and she hoped her school year wasn’t going to be all like that. That is, if she even got to the end of the year. Gossip was a good source of information, but it was also unreliable, and annoying.

The first few classes went by fairly quickly, she sat to one side of the classrooms, interacted with a few students, and mostly listened to what everybody had to say about her and the other new student. Not many dared approach her, she must have looked as grumpy as she felt due to the lack of sleep. A few had said hello and introduced themselves, and she had filed every face and every name she could into her memory.

It was after her third class, while she was leaving some books in her locker, that she finally ran into him. Or most likely, that he found her.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he said in a mocking tone, standing behind her.

She turned around and glanced at the hallway, making sure that there were not many people around and that no one could hear them.

“I still don’t know why you’re here, but just stay out of my fucking way, Cortland! Don’t ruin my plan,” she yelled under her breath, looking around to the few people still lingering in the hall.

“You know perfectly well why I’m here, and I can't get in the way if I don't even know what your plan is," he hissed, and then he popped a hand against the locker, boxing her in.

Celaena wasn’t unaccustomed to him being so close, but his simple presence could still piss her off.

“Yes, I do know why you're here,” she replied with a huff. “It's because Arobynn doesn’t fully trust me after the... incident,” she finished, trying not to think about that night. "But I don't know why he'd trust you," she added, narrowing her eyes and almost spitting the last word out.

She pushed his left hand off the locker in one quick motion, almost making him stumble. He had probably been expecting the move, as he shifted the weight to his right foot and popped his right hand on the other side of her head instead.

Sam Cortland looked at her with his brows tucked together, his face merely inches away from hers. It looked like he was going to keep arguing, he opened and closed his mouth. He looked hurt for a second, and angry, but then he turned around, looking ahead into the now empty hallway. The first bell had rung already.

“I’ll be around if you change your mind,” he replied over his shoulder before walking away.

“Asshole,” Celaena breathed as she closed her locker and walked quickly to her next class. She didn’t need the kind of attention that being late to class would give her, especially not for the class she was heading to... Especially not when she was about to see Aedion for the first time after nine long years.

She made it in time, and entered the room just before the teacher called the attention of the students. Celaena was glad for it, as she saw Aedion eyeing her when she walked in. She had to concentrate not to look at him directly as she made her way to the back of the class, where he would have to turn around if he wanted to look at her again.

Once she was in her seat, she let her long golden hair fall as a curtain to the side of her face, covering her from Aedion’s turquoise eyes. He was sitting only two rows in front of her to the right, and she had a perfect view of his profile.

“Welcome class, I hope you’re enjoying your first day so far. I’m Ms. Doranelle and I will be your math teacher for this term,” the short woman at the front said. She proceeded to write her name on the board and asked them to open their textbooks on page 15.

As soon as the lesson started, Celaena tucked her hair behind her ear, and looked at Aedion more closely. She had to admit, he had grown into a fine young man. He had broad shoulders that filled in the school’s jacket nicely, and his blond hair was only a shade lighter than hers. Celeana could tell he spent a lot of time in the sun, as his skin had a slight shine to it, same as his hair. She looked at her own hands, her ghost pale skin so opposite to his, and wondered if her skin would acquire that golden tan too if she started spending more time outdoors during the daytime.

She’d probably find out soon.

“Celaena, what’s the answer to question five on the textbook?” Ms. Doranelle asked, probably catching her daydreaming.

She let her hair fall back onto her face, and read the question quickly.

“Twenty five,” she replied immediately, trying not to sound too cocky.

A bit surprised, the teacher raised her thick eyebrows at her, but then nodded.

“Yes, that’s right… Just, don’t get distracted,” she added before continuing with the lesson.

As she looked to the right, Celaena caught his eyes. Aedion Ashryver’s turquoise eyes were just as she remembered them; but she didn’t really need to remember, because they were equal to the ones she saw in the mirror every morning. The golden ring around his pupils was visible even from a few seats away, and Celaena was glad she had chosen to wear brown contacts, since to anybody paying only a little attention, it would have been so obvious that their eyes looked alike.

Aedoin squinted his eyes, as if trying to figure out if he knew her from somewhere. Looking away would be suspicious, so she held his gaze, little snippets of memories coming back to her.

She remembered the two of them running around her parent’s yard back in Terrasen, playing tag; kicking each other under the table during the ostentatious business banquets, and being told off for it. She recalled Aedion curling up on her bed during a sleep over because she had had a nightmare; and him fighting with some bullies in primary school after they had pulled on her braids.

And her last memory, that of Aedion hugging her goodbye before moving away from Terrasen when his father had been transferred to run the company in Rifthold. That had been barely a few weeks before the accident, before her whole life had come crashing down. She had been so excited for the visit, thinking she’d finally be reunited with him.

But it was all so different now, and none of that mattered. Neither of them were the kids they used to be, they were strangers now. And as Aedion Ashryver looked away, Celaena Sardothien kept her eyes on the back of his head, thinking how she would find out the truth, and take her revenge. She was sure he wouldn’t be an obstacle, he was merely a suspect.

Here’s my version of Celaena for this fic, with contact lenses and all <3

----

Annnnd that’s it for today!! All comments and forms of love are highly appreciated, we writers live on coffee, sugar, and lovely comments in case you didn’t know <3

I will do my best to remember and update this often! How often? Not sure yet, maybe 3x week?

#fireheart #rowaelin #fanfic #tog #throneofglass #throne of glass #tog fandom #tog fanfic #celaena #sam cortland #lysandra #chapter one

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winnsmills · 4 years

Text

right out of a book (1) - draco malfoy x reader

this is my first fanfic ever aaahhh idk i’m such an amateur lol

also english is not my first language so if you stumble across any mistakes language-wise, feel free to inform me and please (please please) let me know what you think since this will probs be about a couple of chapters. (three to five-ish? i’m not really sure we shall see hehe)

plot: draco malfoy thinks the reader doesn’t know anything about him, and is determined to keep it that way. that might change once she actually learns he is rather similar to a character in the books she’d read...along with the rest of the world. muggle!reader. sulky!draco (although i’m convinced this doesn’t really need an exclamation mark haha). enjoy!

warnings: not really...one or two curse words, draco being rude lol

word count: 1169

After the Battle of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy could safely say that he could believe whatever was thrown in his face. All sorts of plot twists, espionages, even the weirdest conspiracies (he had once read that Harry Potter was actually an alien and was here to report all the secrets of Wizarding World to the fellow members of his species – and he thought that it would certainly explain his lack of brains). But if someone had come along and told him that he would have to live in Muggle London for Merlin knows how long, he would’ve told that person that they were absolutely bonkers.

Alas, that was exactly where he found himself.

“Come on, this won’t be that bad, Malfoy,” Zabini had told him, “Even if you stayed in the Manor, you wouldn’t be able to roam the streets anyway. After the Battle, your face might as well be on posters that say ‘Wanted’ in all capital letters. At least no one will know who you are here. No one will know about your past.”

Draco liked to think of himself as at least somewhat logical. Unlike certain Gryffindors, he knew there was a fine line between courage and stupidity, and he was adamant not to cross it. But there were expectations that came with his infamous surname, some kind of fate even, determining his actions even before he was born. All the things he did, he did out of desperation. He didn’t have much of a choice anyway.

So he became a Death Eater. And tried to kill Dumbledore. And helped other Death Eaters break into Hogwarts. His criminal record…was not the best, to say the least. So yes, he knew Zabini’s words made sense. He knew that was the logical thing to do.

But there was not a single bone in his body that agreed willingly to what he said.

He certainly did not look forward to mingle with those sorts, let alone not being able to use his wand. Maybe he could redeem himself, he thought. Maybe he could go up to Potter and tell him that he did all of what he did because he wanted him to be seen as a bigger hero. He could potentially tell him I was always on your side, mate, but the words weren’t convincing even in his brain, let alone coming out of his mouth.

So, it was down to one single option. As usual.

On his first day, he had sat in the couch and just frowned until evening. He didn’t know what to do, how to make things work without magic. Maybe he could actually die out of boredom and get this whole runaway thing over with.

His frowning session got rudely interrupted with a continuous sound of doorbell, and he just groaned and waited for the person at the other end of the door to go away. He gave an exhausted breath when the ringing stopped, but he was too optimistic, especially for a pessimistic sulking arsehole like himself. Ringings turned into knocking and eventually a female voice.

“I know you’re in there!” you called behind the door. “I heard you groan so don’t even attempt to pretend you’re not home.”

So he unwillingly got up and forcefully opened the door with an unamused look on his face. “Could you stop ringing the door for Me- fuck’s sake! What the hell do you want?”

“Not a nice way to greet your neighbour for the first time, is it?” you asked, with an offended look on your face. “I just wanted to bring you some food since you just moved and I figured you didn’t have anything in your fridge-

Fridge? he thought. He technically knew you spoke English, but he could barely understand half of what you were saying. Everything seemed foreign and unusual, and he was once again reminded of the fact that he was in a world he was not familiar with. Not that it ever got out of his mind.

-I may have ringed the doorbell a few times more than usual but that was because I knew you were home and it certainly does not excuse your behaviour! Especially when I am the one with the food in my hands!” you finished rambling with an angry tone. He had just realised that you were holding what looked to be as some sort of a pasta dish, and even though he really, really thought you were very annoying and intrusive, he couldn’t deny the fact that he was also very hungry. So he did what every Slytherin with some self respect would do – he played his cards accordingly.

“Look…”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Look, Y/L/N. I’m sorry, okay? I just moved here as you have kindly noticed and I am not in a very good mood – you constantly ringing the bell did not help either. But again, I’m sorry, alright? You didn’t really deserve that.” – he didn’t believe his last words, but he was saying what he had to say. He had learned ever since he was a child that you couldn’t say what you genuinely think all the time. You need to know when to speak and when to shut your mouth, his father used to tell him. Words have power. It is up to you to use that properly.

“Anyways, thanks for the food.” As he finished his words, he grabbed the baking dish from your hands before you could change your mind and tried to close the door, but he should’ve known that you weren‘t going to leave so easily.

“Wait!” you called after coming out of your state of shock, which was just before he was closing the door, and it took Draco all of his willpower to not roll his eyes and huff with annoyance. “You didn’t tell me your name,” you said with a hint of blush on your cheeks.

“Doesn’t really matter,” said Draco, not finding the power in him to even utter his own name out loud to someone who didn’t know it. You were that someone, someone that didn’t have a single clue about his name, fortune, past, present and possible future. You were just someone that had brought him food (like a saviour, but he would never admit that, especially to you) and annoyed him. It was actually refreshing.

So that was how you found yourself as, standing in front of your new neighbour’s door with your lips slightly parted. You had never met anyone that rude in your life, and even thought about not actually giving him the dish since he had oh so nicely put that you ringed the doorbell a bit longer than usual – no more than 15 seconds, might you add – but you were actually intrigued about your new neighbour. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason why, but you tried to reason with yourself that he actually did seem very upset, and he did apologise in the end, which resulted in your next action:

Ringing the doorbell. Again.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x y/n #harry potter imagine #draco malfoy x you #draco x reader #x reader

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greasykookietree98 · 3 years

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Worth the Wait | bbh

Pairing: ceo!Baekhyun x chef!OC (named)

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, Baekhyun being the cringey dad we know he’ll become one day; also some slight angst if you squint real hard

Word Count: 7,5K

Synopsis: It was a calm Sunday afternoon in the Byun household, before Baekhyun got all sentimental again.

A/N: So after years of not writing shit and deleting all my old, cringey work, here I am, back with a fresh, new, cringey work. Consider it my “Hey! I’m back! Happy Valentine’s or whatever!” gift. Hopefully 5 years of English at a university helped me somewhat – constructive criticism is well appreciated!

“Dad, why do you keep calling noona a monkey?” the toddler inquired, sparkling eyes wide, munching on his favorite banana chips, while comfortably sitting on his father’s lap. Baekhyun brought a hand up to ruffle his son’s soft hair, earning a soft giggle from the 3-year-old. The house was peaceful this Sunday afternoon, almost idyllic even. Jaehyun was paying attention to his favorite cartoon while cuddling his father. Mina sat on the carpet in front of the couch, doodling mindlessly to her newest glittery notebook, occasionally taking a sip from her juice box. From the kitchen he could hear the clanking of dishes, the contact of knives and wooden cutting boards, a sure indicator that Mirae was working on something delicious.

Upon Jae’s question, Mina put her crayon down and turned with her entire body towards the two Byuns, her lips slowly forming into a pout. “Yeah Dad, why do you call me a monkey, but not Jaehyunnie?”

“Well princess, it all has to do with the time your mom and I started dating. Story time?” Baekhyun patted the couch next to his free leg, signaling for the 10-year-old to sit and cuddle him as well. With both kids in his arms, his smile widened as he fondly remembered the very beginning of his happy family.

“It’s so useless, Chae. He won’t want a second date after he finds out. Why put in all the effort?” Mirae sighed, defeated almost, as she threw the black dress on top of the pile of rejects on her bed. She was really getting tired of this whole procedure – getting all dolled up for a man, just for him to zoom out the moment she spoke out about her life, leaving her empty, unwanted, hopeless until her best friend came up with another potential date. Rinse and repeat. See, the problem didn’t inherently lie with Mirae. She was 28, lead a healthy lifestyle with a decent diet and regular workouts. She had a steady job, one she was actually enjoying, one she could be proud of – not everyone from her culinary classes ended up as chefs in top restaurants. She had an at least okay personality, she liked to think at least. All her previous first dates seemed eager to get her on a second date, until her worst (best?) trait came to play. Honesty. She couldn’t leave a date without spilling the truth about her little secret. The little secret weighed 16 kgs, liked to have her chocolate brown hair in pigtails and couldn’t go a day without her Tigger plushie. Her little secret was Shin Mina, her daughter from a previous relationship.

It always ended the same way. The men usually let her down slowly. Kind smiles, small promises of ‘see you soon’ before never texting her again. There were some, of course, who were appealed that she did not have this information readily available from the first second, did not have it plastered on her forehead – or her cleavage, for easier visibility for that matter. These men got angry that they wasted precious time and money on a women who already gave birth to someone else’s spawn – their words, not hers. She tried to react the same way to all of them. A small apology, a gentle smile and a tiny goodbye. She then entered her small apartment, went straight to Mina’s room to check on her sleeping daughter, pressing a soft kiss on her cheek before going out to the living room. The living room where her best friend, frequent babysitter and constant matchmaker, Chaeyon waited for her with tissues, ice cream and warm hugs. It always ended the same way.

“Well for a start, this guy actually had the guts to ask you out – in person! Not on a dating app, not with some horrible pickup line, what if he’s really different?” Chae reasoned enthusiastically, throwing another dress Mirae’s way. It was rich coming from her, considering she was the one running Mirae’s dating app accounts, “filtering out” candidates before setting dates up for her. But she had a point. This guy, Byun Baekhyun, really was different. Never had a customer in the restaurant she worked at complimented her cooking while also noting her lack of wedding ring and asking smoothly for her number. Never had a man asked her every hour or two whether she was having a good day and if she remembered to drink enough water – even before their first date. Baekhyun was a natural charmer, which could’ve made everything easier. Instead, Mirae felt it would just be an even bigger disappointment when he deleted her number from his contacts with disgust in his eyes.

Because let’s face it, Baekhyun was perfect. Fit, handsome, easygoing, yes. He was the CEO of his own company, Privé, one of the region’s hottest fashion and skin-care brands. If she were to go by the loud laughs of the friends he was dining with, he seemed fun to be around and for some reason she got the impression he would be amazing with kids. With his own kinds, preferably, she added. Cause why would a man of his caliber want to have to do anything with someone else’s child?

“I can’t build my daughter’s future on what-ifs, Chae… I’m sure it’s not good for Minnie either. Seeing her mom go away for nights and seeing her all sad the next morning. I think I should just stop. Mina’s enough for me, I will always have her and she will always have me. Yeah, I don’t need a man to live a happy life!” She started rambling as she suddenly got up from her bed.

“Okay, okay, calm down, fighter. You’re not wrong, you’re independent, you’re strong, you don’t need anyone. I’m also sure Mina is more than content to just have you and no one else. But! Mommy needs a little love sometimes, too.” Chaeyon winked, earning a slap on her upper arm from her friend. “Seriously, don’t leave Baekhyun hanging. Just this one last time, give this whole ordeal a chance. If it doesn’t work out with him, either, I promise to delete your dating profiles and not set up you with anyone, ever.” She promised, a hand rising to his chest.

“I’d really appreciate that, Chae. I really appreciate you. Thank you for everything you do for me, for us.” Mirae pulled her best friend into a bone crashing hug, then grabbed the silky dress from her hands and went into her bathroom to get ready for her last date ever, potentially.

Baekhyun waited anxiously in front of the restaurant. Wasn’t this too cliché? Bringing a chef to a restaurant for their first date? He scolded himself for listening to Jongdae’s advice – “You can get to know her the best this way, also, a way to anyone’s heart is through their stomachs”. Sure, Jongdae already had a family, so his advice should’ve sounded legit. Well, she didn’t seem to protest, even let him pick the location. She didn’t let him pick her up, tho, insisting that she can just take a taxi.

Honestly, Baekhyun was never one to ask someone out so openly. Sure, he knew how to use his charms and words to his advantage, as it was how he fought his way to the top of his field, but flirting never came to him so naturally. What was he even thinking? Sure, his friends wanted to compliment the chef personally, a practice he always found cringeworthy, but the moment he saw her, all common sense was thrown out the wall-to-wall window of the five-star establishment. She gave him the time of day though, so he must’ve done something right.

Just as he lifted the bouquet of yellow tulips to his nose – for one last closer inspection, he told himself -, a car stopped in front of his black Audi. If he didn’t know any better, he would say it was an angel emerging from the taxi – in his mind, he wasn’t too far off, it was her. Thanking the driver one last time, Mirae fixed the strap of her black bag on her shoulder, scanning her surroundings carefully before meeting Baekhyun’s gaze. Her lips perked up into a small smile, and she made her way quickly towards him, him doing the same so they could meet halfway. Shy greetings were exchanged before Baekhyun handed her the bouquet. He blushed slightly, thankfully hidden in the darkness of the night.

The date was – for a lack of a better word – exceptional. While Mirae was completely ready to listen to endless hours of boring business talk from the young CEO, Baekhyun seemed a lot more interested in getting to know her than most of her recent dates. He asked about her childhood dreams, her deepest fears and most memorable trips and told her about himself in return. The conversation was balanced and Baekhyun was not opposed to taking her recommendations in consideration when it came to choosing appetizers, wine or dessert. Dessert! She couldn’t even remember the last time she and her date stayed until dessert. However, the closer the end of the date seemed, the more tense she got. It was soon time to tell him. It was soon all come crashing down again.

“Let me drive you home” Baekhyun spoke up, breaking her out of her momentary haze. Seeing as he was just putting away his credit card, it was clear he has paid for everything already.

“Did you really pay for all of this? Let me pay half of it” She protested, not even reacting to his initial proposition. A smile creeped up on his face upon seeing her surprise. Gosh, did he wanted to surprise her more in the future.

“Maybe I’ll let you pay on our second date” He mentioned while helping her put on her coat. “If you’ll want to meet me again, that is.” He added, a glimmer of hope etched into his voice.

It won’t depend on me, honestly, she wanted to add, but chose to just smile at him kindly. They exited the restaurant and Baekhyun didn’t need to do much convincing to let him take her home. She could enjoy these last few minutes with him; and it would be easier to just walk up to her apartment with her heart broken once more.

The car round was silent on her part. Baekhyun played music on a low volume, but tried to upkeep small conversation. He could sense that something was off. He couldn’t have imagined this spark between them back in the restaurant. He could swear her smiles and laughs were genuine and she truthfully seemed interested in him. Byun Baekhyun, the 29-year-old human, not Byun Baekhyun, the CEO, the ATM on two legs. Did he say something? Was she offended that he paid the bill?

“Hey, is everything alright?” He questioned after parking the car right in front of the address she gave him. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable. If I did, I’m terribly sorry.”

“No, no, that’s not it-“ Mirae took a deep breath and unbuckled her seatbelt. Turning towards him, she inhaled deeply once more. “I really enjoyed everything today. I can’t even begin to tell you, how much. You’re wonderful, so I think you deserve full honesty from me.” She fumbled with her fingers, voice suddenly small. “This is the part where all of them change their mind, so don’t feel bad at all, I understand.” Baekhyun would’ve lied if he said her words didn’t concern him. What was she talking about? After another deep inhale, she looked up, deep into his eyes. “I have a daughter, 4 years old, from a previous relationship.”

“Okay, and?” was Baekhyun’s immediate response. He was honestly expecting something truly terrible, jarring, something a lot worse.

“And? You’re not – I don’t know – mad? Disappointed? You don’t want to kick me out of your car as soon as possible?” She queried, absolutely puzzled by his reaction. “You really don’t have to act nice, I sincerely understand if you never want to see me again.”

“I feel like you’ve had some pretty big assholes bring you on a date before, hm?” He gave her a lopsided smile. “If anything, I admire you even more. You’re a single mother, you work a tiring job and still make time for hopeless men like myself. But I think this is a bigger topic, something we could discuss on our second date. What do you say?” He leaned over to her, pressing a small kiss on her cheek. Her exes grew twice their size – because of his words or the small peck, she wasn’t sure.

“I-… You really won’t stand me up, right? Because if you’re planning to do that, just do it now. It would be easier for both of us.”

“Hey, I promise, this is not me pushing you away with an empty promise to never call you again. This is me, wanting to hear you full story, in a place and time you’re comfortable in. I don’t think my car’s the most ideal. How about this? Give me your phone?” She was so dazed, she put her phone in his palm without question. “This is my address. Which night are you free this week? Our second date can be at my place, I can cook us something, we can eat and watch a movie, and when you’re comfortable, you can tell me everything about her.” He gave back the device, sure enough with an address typed into her notes.

“I could make my Wednesday night free, if that works.” She answered shyly. The inside of the car was getting hotter with every second. Or was it just her? Was it because this man could not be real?

“Perfect, it’s a date then. Want me to pick you up or do you just want to drop by at 7?”

“Chae, you don’t understand, he’s perfect.”

This night, tissues were not spared. Ice cream was eaten, but not in sorrow. Mirae felt like she was floating on cloud 9. Maybe she was. Maybe it was all a dream – it sure seemed to good to be true.

“Oh, is he now, Miss I Don’t Need A Man?” Her friend teased smugly. Oh, she was never gonna live this down.

“No, really, I still can’t believe he wants a second date. What if it actually works out?”

“Oh, we’re building on what-ifs now, Drama Queen?”

“Shut up!”

“Mommy, you look really pretty!” Mina exclaimed excitedly as soon as her mother exited her bedroom in her light jeans and blush colored blouse. She felt a lot more relaxed than in last week’s beautiful but restricting dress. “and happy, too!”

“Thank you, sweetie” she cooed before she swept the little human in her arms. “Do you promise to behave for eonnie while mommy’s not home, like you always do?”

“Of course, mommy!” She clapped her tiny hands together, right before leaning in and leaving a big smooch on her mom’s cheek. “Who are you meeting, mommy?”

“I’m just visiting a friend I met this weekend, honey. I might be home late, so go to sleep with Chaeyon eonnie, okay?”

After making sure Chae had all necessities at hand to deal with her little princess, Mirae put on her boots and coat, kissing her daughter one last time before exiting the apartment. This time, she decided to drive to Baekhyun’s instead of calling a taxi. She was a bit early, as she liked to be, when she parked in front of the simple family house in Gangnam. Was it really where Baekhyun lived? Wasn’t he living alone? Before she could question herself any longer, Baekhyun’s tuft of chocolate hair appeared at the front door, cheerfully waving towards her car. Quickly exiting and locking the vehicle, she hurried to the door with a bottle of wine in her hand.

Baekhyun really outdid himself with the preparation. The table was set nicely for the two of them, and from the dining room she could see the living room couch decorated with soft looking pillows and blankets. While he was opening the wine bottle, she took a good look at the table full of side dishes and delicious food. Baekhyun’s soft voice, only slightly above a whisper, snapped her out of her thoughts. “I realize this is now the second date I took a chef on a date where she had to eat food probably worse than she can make at home, but I hope you don’t mind too much.”

“And this is the second date I’m wearing my own clothes instead of the ones you designed, yet you don’t seem too bothered about it either” she joked lightly, hoping to ease his nerves – and simultaneously her own, too. A genuine smile appeared on Baekhyun’s face before his chuckle filled the whole room.

Once they sat down and started eating they easily fell into conversation. How their week went so far, the plans they had for the rest of it. It was so easy talking to each other, almost like they’d known each other for far longer than the week they actually had. And just like before, Mirae could feel the heavy topic of her private life creeping up on her. As if reading her mind, Baekhyun spoke up, wine glass in one hand. “You know, you don’t have to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with. But I’d really like to know about your story, your daughter.” And yet again, with only a few words he managed to put her mind at ease, as if it was the easiest thing on Earth to tell him everything. He suggested moving to the couch, leaving the empty dishes on the table. He started clicking buttons on the remote of the TV, a seemingly endless list of movies appearing on screen shortly after. While he was reading through the titles, Mirae made herself comfortable between the pillows and blankets. “Have you seen Enola Holmes? I never got around to watching it.”

“I haven’t either, we can watch that” she replied, smiling at him when she realized he turned his whole body towards her when he asked for her opinion. After starting the movie, he also made his way to the couch, sitting down a bit further away from her than he would’ve originally liked to, but he didn’t want to invade her personal space. Not yet, at least. He grabbed a pillow and put it in his lap, pulling his legs up on the couch so that his body was turned towards her. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, her body also turned towards him, her lips curling into a nervous smile. “Mina’s 4 years old. She’s going to kindergarten now and she absolutely loves it. She only made two friends, but she plays with them all the time and I’m really happy she could fit in. I was really worried, her not having a father when all her peers are picked up by theirs almost every day. She still sees him once every month, but I don’t think she enjoys spending time with him.”

“Oh, so he’s dad is around?” slipped out of Baekhyun’s mouth before he could think it through. Eyes widening in panic he tried saving the situation. “I mean, that’s good, right? Or is it? I’m sorry, I don’t even know what I’m saying” his rambling earned him a hearty chuckle and a small smile.

“Yeah, I’m happy that he finally came around and wanted to see his daughter. I mean, I wasn’t expecting much when he left with another girl only a week after I told him I was pregnant” she mentioned bitterly. It was a hard topic, not something she could take lightly, but it was her kneejerk reaction to stress. They continued like this, Mirae talking about her horrible experiences, white slight jokes sprinkled into the stories and Baekhyun reassuring her for the best of his abilities. Honestly, he could’ve easily gone out and beat the guy to a pulp for what he has done to her and her daughter. He knew better though, he knew she was fully capable of dealing with that jerk as much as she needed to, but he just couldn’t help this overwhelming urge to protect her at all costs. He was sure once he met Mina, he would feel the same about the little girl, too.

“Do you want to see some pictures of her?” she asked shyly, and Baekhyun accepted within a fraction of a second. She scooted closer to him on the couch, his legs returning to the ground to give her space beside him. With her phone in hand she opened her gallery, full of pictures of food and a little girl. With every picture she showed came a small story – it started raining when we were in the park, she loves puddles, so she immediately jumped into one and she wanted to dress as Remy from Ratatouille, but we decided to stick with Colette in the end. With every little piece she revealed of herself, Baekhyun’s arms inched closer and closer, to the point where it was no going back from hooking his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. While caught off guard, she didn’t seem to dislike his close proximity. The movie still played in the background, but neither of them knew what the story was about. She put her phone away after a while, cuddling into his side and leaning her head on his shoulder. It all just felt right. With her previous dates, Mirae was always cautious about skinship and touching, but with Baekhyun it all seemed to come naturally.

Once the end credits started rolling, Netflix already recommending the next movie to watch, Baekhyun reluctantly left his comfortable cocoon, and with that, her embrace, to turn the streaming service off. Mirae was almost dozing off underneath the warm blankets, and he hadn’t the heart to disturb her peace. When he started walking towards the dining area, all intentions of cleaning up, she also rose from the couch, following him with a smile plastered on her face. “Need help?”

“You’re the guest, no work for you here” he answered softly, pestering a small kiss on the top of her head. His gesture made her cheeks heat up, momentarily speechless as he started cleaning up the aftermath of their dinner. With him refusing her help, she sat down on a chair next to the dining table, watching him move around the space smoothly. “There’s a carnival just outside the city, do you think Mina would enjoy it?” A kitchen towel was flung across his shoulder, dirty plates in one hand, empty wine glasses in the other. The implications of his question were deeper than she was prepared for. She honestly hasn’t thought much about introducing anyone to Mina lately, since she didn’t have any worthy candidates. Baekhyun, however, was different. She had no doubt Mina would warm up to him easily, he seemed to have that effect on anyone he wanted to. Wouldn’t it be too soon though? How long should she wait? These times, she really wished there was a guidebook to dating as a single parent, telling her exactly what was right and what wasn’t. But there wasn’t, and she decided then and there: she would give Baekhyun a chance.

“Mommy, can I bring Tigger to the carni-war?” Mina asked excitedly, jumping around the living room with her favorite plushie in her hand.

“It’s called a carnival, honey” she corrected her, pulling down her fluffy baby blue sweater to make sure she was properly covered in the chilly autumn morning. “And I think it’s best if Tigger stays home today. What if we lose him? He’ll wait for you to come home, right here” she placed the toy on the couch, sitting up. “Now go grab your bag, sweetie, Baekhyun will be here soon.”

She didn’t even need to finish her sentence, her child was already running down the corridor, towards her room. Last night they had the big talk. Mommy’s friend, Baekhyun was coming over and taking them to the carnival. Mommy’s friend, Baekhyun is really nice and she doesn’t need to be afraid of him. Mommy’s friend, Baekhyun is really excited to meet her, so she should behave. Mommy really likes her friend, Baekhyun, just like in the movies, so she needs private agent Mina’s help to determine if he really is a good man. She hoped being a girl on a mission would ease Mina’s mind enough to not be too nervous around Baekhyun. She wasn’t particularly afraid of strangers, but she tended to be shy. Mirae was also afraid she would associate spending time with a grown man to spending time with her father, which she always threw a fuss about. She always said her dad was boring, that they just watched cartoons and ate fast food when she was at his place. Mirae scolded him every time for this, but things never changed. Just as Mina arrived at her feet, Hello Kitty backpack on her shoulders, there was a knock on the door. “Woo, he’s here!” the toddler exclaimed and Mirae couldn’t help but chuckle as she went to open the door. There he stood, dressed in his own streetwear, eyes shining, grin wide, with a bouquet of yellow tulips in his hand. After letting him in and thanking him she excused herself to the kitchen to search for a vase. When she came back, to her biggest surprise, Baekhyun was crouching in front of Mina, handing her a very small bouquet of various colorful flowers.

“Shin Mina, what do we say?” She scolded playfully, arms crossed in front of her chest.

“Thank you!” She bounced happily, running towards her mother with the flowers in her hand. “Mommy, look”

“It’s really pretty, sweetie” Mirae picked her up, the little girl already too heavy for her to carry for longer periods. “Let’s find a glass you can put them in so they don’t get sad.”

After putting their flowers in water, the two girls returned to the smiling CEO, Mina still having an excited bounce in her step. They were soon leaving the apartment, Baekhyun carrying Mina’s car seat to install in his car before letting Mirae strap her in the proper way. The drive to the carnival wasn’t too long, especially since Mina for some reason couldn’t keep her mouth shut. She kept telling stories to Baekhyun and asking him questions he never thought he would have to be ready for – Baekhyunnie do you think the sky is so blue because there’s so much water in it? Baekhyunnie why is unhealthy food so delicious and healthy food so- so- broccoli!. Mirae heavily enjoyed how flustered he got when trying to answer her nonsensical queries, trying his hardest to please the toddler with his answer.

Saying that Mina went wild at the carnival would be a big understatement. Colorful rides, delicious smelling treats at every corner, it’s safe to say she was nearly overwhelmed with excitement. She wanted to sit on every ride, eat a sample of all the food and never rest. Mirae also learned a lot about Baekhyun on that date. Like when they were buying sandwiches and Mina offered him a bite of her own, Baekhyun almost accepting before realizing with disgust written all across his features that it had cucumbers in it. Or when you were on top of the ferris wheel and he let it slip how utterly terrified he was of heights, only to let Mina drag you two into the line for the rollercoasters. The fact that he was trying tens of times harder to make sure Mina was enjoying her day than her own father ever did really warmed Mirae’s heart. That’s why when the end of the day approached and Baekhyun dropped them off she didn’t refuse the idea of a fourth date, and didn’t hesitate to lean up and seal their goodbye with a kiss.

From then on, Baekhyun was an engraved part of the Shins life. He would bring Mirae on dates every week, each of them drawing them closer to each other, and every week he would come over and spend a day with her and Mina. Sometimes they went out and did some outdoors activities – hiking was Mina’s favorite -, sometimes they just stayed inside and had fun with games and movies. That’s why Baekhyun’s revelation came as a shocking surprise after three months of officially being a couple.

He hadn’t finished his military service yet, meaning he would have to enlist within the next 6 months. Enlist, for 20 months. He was terrified to tell her this. He was too focused on starting his own company in the beginning of his twenties, so he pushed it off for as long as he could. He was horrified of what her reaction could be. Would she hate him? She told him her biggest secret on date one and he waited three months! What was he thinking? She, however, was absolutely understanding. A bit sad, a little upset, of course, but inherently she understand his want to focus on his career beforehand. She made him promise to contact her every week when he could use his phone and to not get hurt while he was serving in the navy. The moment she kissed him softly, reassuring him that she would wait till the day she came back, he knew she would be the one he marries.

The past 20 months were terrible for her, sure. Only speaking on the phone once per week, not even being able to see his face, since photographs were still strictly prohibited in the military, really took a toll on her. But being a grown woman she understood that he had to do this, that he will be back soon. Mina, now 6 years old, was a whole different story. She didn’t understand why Baekhyun stopped visiting, why he missed both two of his birthday parties since she knew him, why he was only calling once a week – not even videocalling, like her grandparents, but just calling! She really missed him, Mirae could see that. Never in her 6 years of life did she miss anyone like this. She had friends move away from their neighborhood, hell, she saw her real father only once a month. But this was different, Baekhyun was different. Mina could see how much her mommy missed him, too, and seeing her sad only made the little girl sadder.

“Does Mina know I’m coming home next Thursday?” Baekhyun asked at the end of their hour long conversation. Mina was already asleep, seeing as it was near 10PM. He would soon need to hang up.

“No, I didn’t want to tell her until you knew the exact day you were arriving. She really misses you, you know?” She smiled fondly, playing with a strand of her own hair. One week. He’ll finally be coming back in seven days. He’ll be discharged on Wednesday, but his base is so far from Seoul his friend, Chanyeol would have to drive late at night. So they agreed they’ll stay in a hotel near the base for the night, then drive home in the morning. You offered to fetch him yourself, but he insisted on surprising Mina, and he said that would give it all away. He may’ve had a point.

“Is she the only one missing me?” he joked. ”Good, don’t tell her. When can you pick her up from school? 4? Gosh, she’s already in school, I’m sure she’s grown so much…”

“Yeah, I can’t even pick her up properly, she’s so heavy” she giggled at his rambling. “She’s almost 120cms now, she really grew a lot. I wonder if you’ll even recognize her when we go to her school.”

“She has your eyes, of course I’ll recognize her! I really can’t wait, I missed you both so much. I have to go now, curfew, you know… I’ll text you when I’m near Seoul” he promised, a hopeful sigh prominent in his voice.

“Okay, take care. I’ll cook your favorite, no cucumbers.” She winked and even thought he couldn’t see, she was sure he knew. “I love you”

“I love you too, see you soon.”

“GPS says 34 minutes.”

“28 now!”

“Only 24 minutes and I’m back!”

“19 minutes, I can’t wait!”

She giggled, looking at her phone and the seemingly endless messages, before typing her response. “Wow, Chanyeol must really want to throw you out the window right now haha Door’s open, soldier.”

His messages didn’t stop, if anything they picked up in frequency. 17 minutes, 14, 13, 10, 8, 7, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, I see the convenience store, I see your street, I see the building…

By the time Chanyeol parked his car in front her complex she was already waiting on the sidewalk, immediately running to him and jumping into his arms after he exited the car.

“Fucking finally, if I had to spend another minute with him in my car, I might’ve driven into a tree on purpose.” Chanyeol’s grumpy voice sounded from the rolled down window. She let out a chuckle, thanking him for not killing his best friend before inviting them both inside. Chanyeol declined, taking out Baekhyun’s bags before waving goodbye and driving off. She smiled at him fondly, arms still around his waist. He bulked up a bit in the past year and a half, his shoulders broader than the last time she saw him. His skin was also a bit tanner, probably thanks to the time spent in the sun. What haven’t changed, thankfully, was his boxy smile and sparkling eyes looking deep into hers.

They spent the entire day in each other’s arms, exchanging kisses left and right, talking about anything and everything. Minutes before 4PM they were already outside of Mina’s school. Loud screams and laughter sounded from the playground at the back porch of the school, so they headed there straight away. Upon seeing Mirae, a teacher called out to Mina – Mina, mommy’s here – and the moment her big eyes found the pair at the entrance, she ran like her life depended on it, straight into the arms of Baekhyun who was already crouching down with his arms open. “You’re back!” she cried out, small sobs shaking her entire body. Baekhyun hugged her close, smiling up at Mirae sheepishly, clearly fighting his own tears. Giving them a minute of privacy, Mirae walked towards the teacher overlooking the crowd of playing children, to collect Mina’s coat and backpack.

“So is he the Baekhyun the whole school was hearing about lately?” she smiled at the mother knowingly. She knew Mina couldn’t shut up about how her Baekhyunnie was in the army and would be coming back any time now. Mirae nodded happily, exchanging a few words about Mina before she walked back to the two loves of her life. Mina’s arms were still tight around his neck, but he was standing up now, holding her in his arms securely.

“Honey, you’ll have to let go of Baekhyun eventually, or he won’t be able to drive us home” she cooed, pressing a reassuring kiss to the little girl’s cheek, rubbing her back slightly. “It’s okay, honey, you don’t need to cry.”

“Will you leave again?” Her voice sounded barely louder than the slight wind playing with her hair, but they both heard. Baekhyun kissed the top of his head, making sure she wouldn’t fall from his grip.

“No, princess, you won’t be able to get rid of me from now on.”

They stood there for five minutes, Mina not budging a milimiter, but her tears subsiding, before Mirae decided she would drive, while Baekhyun could sit in the back with Mina in his lap. By the time they approached Baekhyun’s driveway she was soundly asleep on his chest, him rubbing her soft hair slightly. Once parked, Mirae opened the back door and tried to get Mina off him, but even in her sleep she still wouldn’t stir. Once Baekhyun carried her into his home – cleaned biweekly by a cleaning agency for the past 20 months –, he sat down with her on the couch, waiting for Mirae to join them. Cuddled together, they talked in whispers, not daring to wake up the exhausted little girl.

For days after Baekhyun couldn’t get her to stop clinging to her like a koala – not like he really minded. He did need to go back to work though, having been running his company remotely with the help of his right hand, Chanyeol. Mina also needed to go to school, but he made it his mission to leave early enough every day and pick her up from school. He even had to carry her out to the grill party they organized in his backyard that weekend, a small event with family and friends to celebrate Baekhyun’s return. Well, that was the reason Mirae knew. For Baekhyun, this small event wasn’t precisely about greeting his parents and brother, his niece and nephew or even Mirae’s parents. He wanted them all there for one reason, and one reason only. The reason was snugly tucked away in the inside pocket of his blazer, the gem precisely cut, the size determined sneakily by sneaky texts with Chaeyon.

Mirae and their mothers were in charge of the side dishes and desert inside, while their fathers did the grilling. Baekhyun always loved seeing their parents getting along well – it seriously was more than he ever hoped for. Baekhyun sat down at the makeshift sandpit where his niece and nephew were already playing, supervised by his brother and sister-in-law, and encouraged Mina to join them. “Nervous?” his brother inquired, a hand resting on his shoulder.

“More than I imagined I’d be.” Baekhyun sighed, watching Mina enjoy her time with the two kids who he hoped could become her cousins soon. “What if she thinks it’s all too soon? I mean, it is, I just… Why wait when I know I want to be with her forever?”

“Hyunnie, you grew up quite a lot, didn’t you?” His brother’s grip on his shoulder tightened reassuringly, a proud smile sitting on his lips. “I can see she loves you as much as you love her. And I mean technically, you’ve been together for 2 years already. Sure, most of it was long-distance, but you both fought through it. Her kid also adores you, which I think is already a selling factor.”

“Still, I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous in my life-“

“Why are you nervous?” Mina appeared in front of him, hands full of sand, eyes full of wonder.

“Oh, nothing monkey, I just need to ask your mom a question after dinner.” he replied, grabbing her and pulling her onto his lap.

“But mommy’s not scary, I ask her questions all the time” she added innocently, snuggling closer to him. “Want me to ask it for you?”

“No, honey, Baekhyunnie has to ask this. And this is our secret, okay, monkey? Mommy can’t know I want to ask her anything.”

“Okay!” she playfully zipped her lips, before jumping off him and running back to play in the sand some more. He looked after her with fondness in his eyes, totally forgetting about the conversation he had with his brother before – or the presence of the older man for that matter.

“See? It’s like she’s been your daughter all along.”

“Should’ve guessed I’ll find you in the sandpit with the kids” Mirae appeared behind her, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing her lips to his cheek. “Food’s almost ready, could you get the kids to wash up and sit in their chairs?”

“Of course, love” he turned in her arms, pressing a quick peck on her lips. “Need help with anything else?”

“Oh, no, your mom is running around like a rabbit on steroids, I think her and my mom got the table all set up already.” Oh, his mom. When they arrived earlier that day, Baekhyun pulled her aside – just like he did with his father and Mirae’s parents individually later on – to let her know about his plan. She was overjoyed, just like the rest of the parents, but he guesses she couldn’t fully contain her excitement like he asked her to do.

Dinner was going as smoothly as it could, with family member and friends talking in small groups about whatever they deemed worthy. Mirae turned to Baekhyun midway, looking at him like he brought down the stars for her, and kissed the corner of his lips. Did she knew? Did one of their mothers let it slip out? Maybe he shouldn’t have asked for their permission to begin with, it’s all ruined now- “I was thinking about switching workplaces. The restaurant chain is opening a new location in Gangnam, I’d have a lot more regular hours and I could be closer to you, as well.” She ran her hand down his lower arm until their fingers tangled together under the table. His surprised expression only caused her smile to widen. “What do you think?”

“I think you should definitely take the opportunity. And you should definitely move here, with me, you know, so you could be closer to work.” he answered dreamily, not believing how well this all played in with his plan. “Your lease is coming to an end either way, right? The elevator hasn’t been working for a while either, did they fix that already? And Mina could play out here every day, without you having to bring her to a park. And you know, we could wake up next to each other every morning, so that’s an added bonus-“

“Calm down, I was convinced by the time you mentioned the elevator” she joked, pressing another short kiss onto his lips. “Let’s talk about this after everyone left, hm?”

“Yeah, let’s” he spaced out, touching the hidden pocket with his free hand. “Actually” he let go of her hand suddenly, standing up from the table. Everyone looked at him, some expectantly, some curiously – including her. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time now. I-… I never thought that I would find the love of my life when I went into that restaurant two years ago. Honestly, I wasn’t even looking for a relationship, I was planning to finish my military service and then maybe start looking but then I saw you and everything changed. I was terrified of everything, of this newfound confidence you gave me, of disappointing you, or Mina, and when I was lying on my bed in the navy every day, I was terrified of one day losing you. I-… I don’t even know where I’m trying to go with all of this, I should’ve practiced more, but you just had to surprise me today, as well and… Just please, will you marry me?” He blurted out, now on one knee next to her chair, with the velvet box opened in his palm. He was too afraid to look at her for a second, but then remembered it’s her, he shouldn’t have to worry about anything. Both of Mirae’s hands were covering her face, tears quickly gathering at the corners of her eyes. Gosh¸ she wasn’t expecting this, not today at least, not for a while longer honestly. But just thinking about spending the rest of her days by his side made her extremely happy. She had no doubt Baekhyun is the one – but wasn’t this all too fast? Or was it? What more was she waiting for?

Without uttering a word she threw herself onto him, arms wrapping around his neck and suddenly she couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. Free hand wrapping around her waist, Baekhyun tried shushing her, to comfort her. “I kind of need an answer here, sweetheart.”

“Yes, of course” she choked out, hugging him even closer before he grabbed her left hand, slowly sliding the shiny ring on her fourth finger before leaning down and enveloping her in the most romantic kiss they ever shared. Friends and family cheering, kids ew-ing, it all couldn’t be more perfect.

That was, until a year later, a day before their wedding Baekhyun was panicking, walking up and down the living room – their living room –, worried that they must have missed something during planning, something will go wrong and she will hate him forever. “Honey” She ran her arm up his arm, slowly wrapping both arms around his neck and tangling her hair into his soft, black hair. “It’s going to be fine. The wedding planner took care of everything, most guests are already in their hotel rooms, your tuxedo and my dress are waiting for us at the venue and I made sure the wedding cake is the best they could make. Everything is going to be just fine” she tried reassuring him, pressing kiss after kiss on his pouting lips. “Besides, I don’t need my husband breaking down on our wedding day, leaving me to take care of our two kids on my own.”

“I’m not going to-“ he protested, clearly not registering right away the secret in her last words. “Wait, what, two?” His eyes were wider than she’s ever seen them, and she could swear if she didn’t know he was nearing 32, she would believe he was 9 going by how cute he was.

“Oops, did I say two? Might have spoiled the honeymoon surprise” she added cheekily, carefully watching as Baekhyun’s smile widened to his ears before she could feel his arms crushing her bones as he pulled her close.

“I love you, so, so much.”

“I love you too, honey. You were absolutely worth the wait.”

“So, Dad, I’m monkey because I was clinging to you when you came back from the army?” Mina asked, pushing himself away from her guardian.

“Yes, sweetie.” He answered proudly. Jaehyun was already snoring soundly on his shoulder.

“Then why did you not just say that? Why did I have to listen to your whole story with mom again?” Mina whined. Just as she was about to give him a piece of her mind – like the scary, independent, full of anger 10-year-old she was – Mirae emerged from the kitchen, an apron still draped around her front. “Mom, dad is the worst!”

“Tell me about it, monkey” Mirae picked her up, ruffling her hair. With a big puff of air escaping her small lips, Mina crossed her arms.

“I hate that nickname.”

#baekhyun #baekhyun oneshot #hi i'm back?#forgot how i used to tag shit

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