#and he says something like. i could pay only for necessities and be stuck living out here | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sharkbait77 · 4 years ago

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The Sun Sets With You

Chapter One: The Season Begins

Summary: A simple yet despondent farm life suddenly sparks with new hope when an unusual traveler makes your town his latest stop and brings with him intriguing and promising viewpoints and no one to share them with. Until he meets you.

Pairing: Ezra Prospect x f!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Despondency, depressive undertones, death of a parent, grief, unsolicited advances, age old sexism, strained parent relationship, nosy neighbors, food, lmk if I missed any pls!

W/C: 3.2k

A/N: And here we go! The first chapter! Welcome & thank you for tuning in, it means the world, truly! As I mentioned before, this story may not be the best for some, so please heed the warnings & proceed with caution. The sadness will not consistently be in each chapter, that much I promise, but we have to get through it right away so we can understand our dear Reader’s mindset as of right now. NO EZRA YET, SORRY! And like I said before, this is probably not totally historically accurate, so take everything with a grain of salt pleeease. Other than that, enjoy!

Tags: @the-ginger-hedge-witch @asta-lily @honeymandos @pascalpanic @aliwritesfic @mandocrasis @hnt-escape @winter-fox-queen @barbossa2319 @sarahjkl82-blog @day-off-inkyoto @pedrocentric @astoryisaloveaffair @ezrasbirdie @danniburgh @foli-vora @lucrezia-thoughts @djarinsbeskar @chasingdreamer @quica-quica-quica @meesterblack @amandalovess @hunterofartem1s @pedro4ever @mishasminion360

Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Chapter Two

~APRIL FIFTEENTH OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

Your eyes flutter open on instinct as the sun rises against the pale blue of the sky, its ochre rays peering from behind the grassy hills and across the wheat fields while waking the birds. They start their day with a song, shaking their feathers and stretching their wings as they merrily fly through the air in search of their morning meal. The hens that found solace in their coops from the stark chill of night chatter amongst themselves as they roam around their pen and the lone rooster releases its shrill call, a signal for the day to begin. Beat you again, you think.

The sun rises a little higher now, the bright of day in full effect as it fills your room with its intense luminosity. You lie in bed a moment longer, watching the dust mites float through the air and dance in front of your nose with each exhale of breath you release. Signs of life all around you, from the dew drops that formed on your window in the early morning to the muscles within your very skin twitching as you climb out of bed. Every little thing teasing and taunting you of significance, of meaning just on the horizon, yet so far out of your reach.

This is your life. Each and every morning, day, and night is as repetitive as the last. Wake up before the rooster crows and stare into the minute cracks rippling through the ceiling, envious of the pollen that manages to escape through and longing for you to shrink microscopic enough to hide away as well. Fill your basin with cold water you had gathered the night before to wash yourself quickly before your father wakes. Clothe yourself in your underdress, long sleeved, blue work dress layered on top with the sleeves rolled up, an apron cinched at your waist, and dirty and worn, black boots laced up tight enough to prevent you from minding the ache they feel as the day progresses.

You look at your reflection in the hazy mirror as you braid your hair; the drabness of the glass only accentuates exactly how you perceive yourself. The girl staring back at you was but a shell of the one you knew before. Before, when you still had ambitions that would have led you far from this town. To a place you could live anew. Now, just an empty being as one day fades into the next. Eyes that no longer gleam, hair that no longer shines, skin that no longer glows.

You had given up long ago of any hope and dream of something more, surrendering to the bleakness and repetitiveness of this life when your mother passed. A promise on her death bed to help care for your father any way he needs. And this is what he needs. You, here on the farm, helping tend to the chickens and the cows and the small shop he owned in town. The one your mother ran that was unceremoniously thrust onto your lap. The organ within your chest beats solely to pump the blood through your veins and keep you breathing, if only for the promise you made to your mother.

You fasten the gold chain around your neck, a locket with a faded photograph of your mother hidden within hanging to your breast. You tuck it into your blouse to keep her close to your heart and head down the ladder, stepping lightly as to not awaken Pa any earlier than necessary. Your Pa, an old man now with hair white as snow, only having turned the shade since Ma left.

Wrinkles crease deeper into his skin and the bags under his eyes droop slightly to his cheeks now on his once chiseled face. His strength has dwindled within the last year, and with no other siblings to share the burden of the farm, you knew you could not leave your Pa to deal with it by himself. So your own dreams and goals were swiftly thrown into the dirt to be rained on and turned to mush, impossible to be picked up again.

As you finish grounding the coffee beans and throw them into the pot of already boiling water resting on the range, Pa begins to stir and soon after wakes up, the aroma of caffeine acting as his own signal to wake. Leaving the house to give your father privacy to dress, you head to the hen coop to gather a few eggs for breakfast.

You take a deep breath of the crisp morning air, the smell of apple trees at the front of the house, then the smell of grass with fresh dew, to the smell of hay and chicken feed as you get closer to the pen they are corralled in. As you head back into the house, Pa is already seated at the small, round table with his tin of coffee.

“Good morning, Pa,” you greet softly.

“Good morning daughter. Thank you for the coffee.”

“Grace to our health, Pa,” you say, as you always do when he gives you his thanks.

Financially, you and Pa were well off enough; you still couldn’t afford luxuries like sugar, but you were able to live comfortably with only the necessities and the occasional new pair of boots. You were grateful to have the farm and the shop, both reliable sources of income for your small family, and you were blessed that Pa was still able to work the fields, but you know as time passes and his joints weaken, you would then need to take over the labor. There was truly no path for you to leave this life.

The older women around town had begun to whisper about you, not necessarily trying to keep their gossip from reaching your ears. They were just as bad as the hens that cluck around their pen all day. A never ending chatter of you being stuck in the house or the farm or the shop, working as an old maid for the rest of your life.

You’re still fairly young, just over two decades of life in you; sure, the girls you once played in the streams with as children were all married women now and on their third, fourth, fifth child, but you didn’t feel the desire to find a husband just to bend to the simple mold of life this society has cast. If you were to still have any control of your life, it would, at the least, be that.

You crack the eggs into the beaten and tired pan over the range, letting them cook to completion before removing and plating them, along with a roll of bread and the butter you had just churned the day prior. You walk over to Pa and place his portion down before working on your own. Pa sends up a quick prayer and starts to eat. His prayers turned to letters to Ma, but he never failed to speak them before every meal or before bed, sometimes even when a sudden abundance of eggs were laid or vegetables had sprouted during the night.

“The season is nigh for corn and potatoes,” Pa mumbles and you feel your heart sink to your feet.

You had forgotten about the season, when Ma and Pa would work the fields together endlessly, sweating through their work attire to be washed every evening. You still feel the creak in your elbows to this day. It is the busiest season, bringing in the most coinage for the year, but now that it was only you two, you worry about juggling between the shop and the farm.

“Pa, how will we manage?” You voice your concern. Pa takes a deep breath.

“You will hang a notice in the shop when you go today,” he says matter of factly. “Ask Mr. Williams if you are able to hang one on his window at the post as well.”

“And what shall it say?”

“‘Seasonal laborer wanted – will provide lodging with pay’.”

“Where will he stay?” You inquire.

“The barn; we will provide him blankets and he will be free to use our wash basins when needed and we will offer him meals.”

“It will be a lot of money expended, Pa; will we be all right?” You ask as you sit at the table with your plate and coffee tin.

“We will make do, daughter,” he says, the finality in his voice signaling for this conversation to cease. “We will not be able to pay handsomely or feed him much, but we require the extra hand if we are to pass the season.”

“Yes, Pa.”

You lower your head and eat your eggs in silence. You don’t pray anymore, not necessarily feeling the need since your Ma was taken, as well as your aspirations. Pa finishes his coffee, leaving the dishes in the wash basin and grabbing his hat, walking outside into the fields to begin preparations for the season. You sigh; the tears that have long hidden in your ducts refuse to spill out to bless you with relief.

The last time you properly cried was for Ma; every day you feel them there, the pressure building in the corners of your eyes, but nothing ever falls. A mind trick, you suppose, to force you to focus on the more important things. You don’t have the time to spare to release them; your mind and body are now slaves to the farm and the shop.

After your breakfast, you walk to the wash basin with your dishes, hand pumping the water from the pipe just off the side and using the homemade lye soap you learned to make from your mother. Once the dishes are washed, dried, and put away, you walk over to the black safe in the corner of the room, turning the dial to its correct numbers and pulling out the metal lockbox from the inside.

It carried within it the sales ledger for the shop and the velvet bag for the coins. Pa empties the bag every day as he looks over the ledger, placing the coins into another metal box that only he has the key to. He gives you coin anytime you ask, as long as it is needed for the shop or food for the house and, occasionally, on special days.

You pick it up and take it with you to the front door, pulling your bonnet and fabric bag from the hook they hung on. You stick the lockbox inside your bag, as well as the key assigned to it, and head outside. Pa is already far into the fields, hacking away at the dirt and smoothing it out for the new growth. You don’t bother saying goodbye; he knows where you’ll be. Where you’ll always be.

Living alone with Pa became quite challenging, you were disheartened to learn. You’ve always had a loving bond with him since you were a child; maybe he expected the same from you as he did from Ma, but he still managed to make his lessons on the farm enjoyable, doting upon you as any loving father would. Now? The anguish you both have felt since losing the feathery soft and caring love of your mother strained the relationship between you two.

What was once a thick belt of leather that connected you now pulled further and further apart until it became as frail as rubber, threatening to snap at a moment’s notice. You love your Pa; of course you do, and you know he loves you too. If only you could grieve together.

Upon entering the town, the people are going about their normal routines. The baker stacking the fresh loaves of bread in his window, the shoe shiners along the streets working tediously on men’s boots, the hens clucking – the older women gossiping away passionately about whomever they desire. As long as it isn’t you today.

You reach the shop, key in hand as you unlock the brass keyhole and turn the knob, the small bell dinging above you as you enter. You flip the sign in the window from the side that reads ‘Closed’ to the side that reads ‘Open’ and you pull back the shut curtains, allowing the light of day to flow into the small room.

Heading back to behind the counter, you remove the lockbox from your bag and set it on the shelf underneath in its usual resting place. You barely have a moment to remove your bonnet when the bell dings and you look up to greet the person who has walked in. Wonderful.

“Hello, my sweet,” the man husks and you find it difficult to choke back the bile rising in your throat.

“Hello Silas,” you say flatly. “Is there anything I can help you with today?”

“Darlin’, you know exactly how you may be of service to me.”

Silas Taylor, a boorish man of thirty-eight years, has desperately been attempting to attract your affection for the past two years. He had the decency to respect you and Pa after your mother passed, halting his advances for all of one week. Considering his age, he did not show any signs of maturing, both in his looks and his brain. One might even label him handsome, were he not such a crude and overbearing personality.

Ma and Pa had bid you to consider his proposal, but in time came to understand he was not the best man you could have as a husband. Pa despises Silas, has even told him so to his face, yet it did not cause Silas to stray from pursuing you. Disrespectful, despicable, a generally awful person, Silas is.

Why he had you locked on to his sights, you weren’t sure. You never gave him the opportunity to court; staying cordial as to not make an outright enemy of him, yes, but never once have you made it apparent you enjoyed his attention. Nevertheless, he continued.

“Silas, please. I must ask you to leave my shop if you are not interested in a purchase,” you implore, hoping he will understand your position and take his leave.

“But, little one, I am very interested in a purchase. What must I do to make you my wife?” He grins, as charming as the manure out in the fields. In a flash, your vision goes red as you replay his statement in your mind.

“I am not for sale, Silas. That is the most offensive remark you have said to me yet,” you declare harshly, the acidic bile in your stomach turning into a burning rage.

“There must be something that can be done, my sweet. You name it; the most lavish jewels and dresses your pretty, little mind can dream of,” he presses on with a smile only found on masks to scare the children with.

‘Pretty’ and ‘little’, amongst his unwelcome endearments, are the words to send your mind into a downward spiral to declarations that you’d rather not say unless you were alone, lest he take offense and decide to wreak havoc on you and Pa. You put your foot down and grab his arm roughly, pulling him with you to the front door. He only laughs at the scene unfolding, rather pleased with himself that he’s ruffled your feathers so.

“Silas, I am no longer asking. Please leave,” you say as plainly as you can, doing your best to keep the tremble of anger out of your voice.

“Fine, fine,” he chuckles satirically. “Until our next meeting, my love.”

He pulls your hand to his lips, his strength surpassing yours and his thick, wiry mustache rubs harshly against the tender skin of your hand. You furl your lip and flare your nostrils, unable to contain the look of disgust on your face as he glares at you perversely with his black eyes. You tug your hand away and the bristly hair under his villainous nose scrapes you with the motion.

You stand with your jaw clenched and hands balled up in tight fists at your sides, your fingernails digging into the skin of your palm as you watch him walk away, leaving puffs of dirt trailing behind with each cocksure step he takes. If you were to only be allowed one person to despise in your lifetime, it would be Silas Taylor.

“Dear, are you well?”

A gentle, aged voice calls out to you from behind. You whip around quickly, your skirts twirling as you face the elderly woman that has hailed you.

“Mrs. Williams,” you greet, willing your fury from the unpleasant interaction to rest for the time being.

“Was that Silas Taylor you were speaking with?” She asks.

“Yes,” you exhale. “Yes, it was.”

“He’s a quite handsome lad, dear. It is known all over town how you have bewitched him. Why do you not accept his proposal?”

Adelaide Williams; the sweetest among the hens, but still a hen nonetheless. You sigh deeply to yourself, deciding not to engage in the conversation with the one woman who treats you with any shred of respect and kindness, even if her ideals still match those with the others in town.

“Mrs. Williams, while I have you in my presence, may I ask a favor?” You appeal.

“Why, of course, my dear!” She smiles, all thoughts of your personal affairs exiting her imagination.

“Do you suppose it would be alright to leave a notice at the post office? We are asking for help on the farm for the season.”

“Yes, dear, it’s quite alright,” she smiles, her wrinkly skin creasing along her cheeks and eyes.

“Thank you; will you wait a moment while I draft it?”

She nods and follows you inside the shop, slow in her old age. You quickly grab a sheet of paper and a fountain pen, inscribing the words your Pa informed you to write in large enough letters.

“I imagine this season will be most difficult without your mother. I am so very sorry, dear,” Mrs. Williams says as you write and your hand quakes slightly at her comment. “How have you and your father been managing?” Cluck, cluck, cluck.

“Not without difficulty, Mrs. Williams, but we manage nonetheless,” you say courteously, not wanting to relay any information that could be the next piece of news to travel through the grapevine. You finish the notice and hand it to her.

“Shall I direct him here or to the farm?” She inquires as she reads the note, perhaps looking for anything contradicting what you already stated would be written.

“The farm, more suitably, so he can speak directly to my father,” you reply. “Many thanks to you and Mr. Williams,” you end with a sweet smile.

“No thanks are required, my dear. Anything to help you and your father. Your mother was a wonderful being. I was proud to have known her.”

Another quake. You nod politely, letting her hold your forearm as you walk to the front door. The bell dings as it opens and you watch her while she walks down the wooden pathway to the post office. Once you’re sure she’s well on her way, you turn back inside and draft another notice for the shop window before you begin arranging the merchandise for the day, taking inventory of goods that are depleting, and checking order forms belonging to families around town for produce off your farm.

A most provincial and forlorn life, indeed, that you will have to bear until the end of your time here on Earth.

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Chapter Two

#ezra x f!reader #ezra x reader #ezra x you #ezra prospect x f!reader #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra au #ezra prospect au #ezra prospect fanfiction #ezra prospect fanfic #pedro pascal character fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #prospect #prospect fanfiction #the sun sets with you #tsswy

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blue-bird-kny · 5 years ago

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Writing night!! Can we maybe get a Mitsuri, Giyu and Tanjiro with an s/o whose baby faced/short but is still rather thick/curvy? Maybe she's bit insecure or bothered by comments made towards her about it? (I suffer/deal with this so it would mean a lot qwq, thank you!!)

I could definitely relate to this on all levels

( 1k. words)

Mitsuri

Mitsuri can’t get enough of you; you are the most adorable thing ever, even when you are telling her off it just looks nice. Like 9 out of 10 times she’s fawning over you and sometimes it feels like a bit much, but she knows your limits.

Mitsuri’s biggest display of affection is physical touch, regardless of where she is. She often has to have her hands on you somehow, running her fingers through your hair or resting her palm on your shoulder, she’ll caress your face soothingly in a crowd of one hundred without a care in the world. Your hands were hers; she toyed with them constantly, tracing the lines of your palm, grazing her nails against the skin or passing her thumb over the back whenever she could get a hold of them- this became something that brought you both comfort.

That was in public though, in the privacy of your homes MItsuri would up the wattage of her touch. On nights she could, she’d drag you to bed earlier then usual only to smoother you benneth her weight. Her hands would leisurely trail the length of your limbs and over your hips in a way that didn’t feel sexual (most of the time), but to confirm that you are here and real in her life. She commits every dip and curve to memory, grateful that she’s the only one who gets to see it, to be yours.

Foul comments from others NEVER go well with her, she didn’t even give them the chance. The only time someone had ever attempted to be rude to you was the only time because Mitsuri too it upon herself to sweetly tell them to ‘Fuck off’; Mitsuri rarly used foul language. You’d confide in her your biggest insecurities and she’d listen intently, not saying a word until she knew your were done, “Y/n you don’t have to do things alone if you don’t want to because I’m here and I think you’re breathtakingly beautiful in all ways” she’d place a passionate kiss to your temple, snuggling into you.

Giyuu:

Giyuu wasn’t very physical, yet his presence was always felt beside you; With him it was a matter of the small things. When he spoke with you, his tone carried the faintest trace of bliss and his eyes a glint of raw affection reserved only for you.

In a way different then most, he too would always have you close, though his affection didn’t come in the form of touch. He left you gifts, things he felt were a necessity, like leaving fruits and sweets (a healthy balance he feels) in the kitchen counter for you to grab or leaving a cup of water on your bed side on morning’s he left early. Sometimes he’ll even leave little notes of encouragement like “Do well today”, even if they are simple and straightforward they made your day better.

It's been said before and will be said again: Giyuu lives for height difference. Can’t reach something off the top shelf? Don’t worry, Giyuu is already reaching over you to grab whatever it is. Mistaken for a large gremlin? Yes, you are his feisty little girlfriend and he couldn’t be happier. It bothers him immensely when someone makes a snid, double-handed comment about your stature, he finds it difficult to restrain himself. “Wow, I’m impressed that someone like you has survived this long” some blonde bastard mocked, looking down with a cocky smirk Giyuu would pay to wipe away with his fist. “She is your superior and ranked more impressively than you are, so I suggest watching your tongue” Giyuu seethed.

Bonus: On nights when he is soft and vulnerable around you, he will compare hand sizes with you. Holding up your palms together to measure the difference in finger length, sliding them together to press tender kisses to each knuckle.

Tanjiro:

Tanjiro would see your build as nothing more than something to fawn over, void of any imperfections. He’d pay you compliments and coo over the slightest thing you do, hyping your outfits anytime you dress out of uniform.

Tanjiro is that boyfriend who pinches your cheeks and when you whine to him that it hurts, he’d simply release them, cupping each in his hands lovingly, “You’re just too cute I can’t help it”. A bonus he finds is that you are the perfect size to ride his back when you are tired; he lives to feel you resting against him, sleeping soundly as he carries you home safely.

If there is one thing you must understand about Tanjiro is that underneath all his niceties is a man and men are men after all. Out in the world, he is very respectful of you, blushing at the slightest touches and making sure to give you a healthy amount of space. Now in the comfort of your home, things are slightly different. While the respect is still present, his hands are no longer stuck at his sides, instead they are wandering the wonders that are your curves. He’ll have you lay on the couch as his fingers roam over each delicious dip, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his leisure finger tracing your form. Every so often he leaves a kiss here and there, so feather-light that it feels closer to the warm breeze that blows on a summer's afternoon.

One knows not to cross Tanjiro because when they do, they regret it big time. When someone says something that even resembles an insult, he is on them instantly. His face, dripping in a venomous smile that matches his murderous gaze, is in front their’s in seconds, his unwavering voice challenging, “What did you say? I don’t think I heard you right”. All in all, he is the #1 protective boyfriend.

Writing Night Masterlist

#writingnight #demon slayer x reader #giyuu x reader #mitsuri x reader #tanjiro x reader #kny xreader

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escapewithbts · 4 years ago

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Secrets in a Foreign Language - Jungkook (Part One)

So I’m not entirely sure if this is going to be just a couple parts or a small series, I kind of just came up with it randomly! I also couldn’t think of a better title so bear with me please haha nevertheless I hope you enjoy! I loved writing this beginning so far!

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>>next

You fiddled with the keys in your hand, searching for the one you marked for this particular unit. Finally, you found the correct one, pushing it into the lock and opening the front door with a click. It looked like pretty much every other apartment in the building, modern with a large living space, open concept kitchen with stainless steel appliances, large windows that looked over the city of Seoul. Just another multi-million dollar home you could only ever afford in your dreams.

Yet here you were, entering the home of an individual who could afford such a space in their reality... because it was your job to clean it. Yes, you were a housekeeper for the company who owned this apartment building; one of the most expensive places to live in all of South Korea.

You had moved here to Seoul from your home country abroad in search of change. A new adventure? Something to push you out of your comfort zone? Really you were just extremely bored back home; sick of the same routines, the same people, the career you didn’t enjoy. So, before you could talk yourself out of it, you contacted a job agency based in Seoul, South Korea whose mission was to find jobs for foreigners who spoke little to no Korean (aka you). And that is approximately how you landed this gig. Only a few months in and your Korean had significantly improved (requiring basic necessities like, you know, food and toilet paper, forced you to learn how to acquire said items in this new language) and you weren’t hating this job at all. You were alone most of the time, cleaning wasn’t too difficult since you have been doing it your whole life, and because it was for such a wealthy company the pay wasn’t bad either. Was it what you wanted to do for the rest of your life? Probably not. But it paid the bills and still left some income for exploration of your new home country.

And honestly, the most difficult part of it all was the scheduling. Sometimes you had limited time to clean a home based on the person’s day, sometimes you had an excessive number of units to clean in one day and wondered how exactly you were going to finish them all. But once you came into a routine that stuck you quickly found a pace for yourself that worked perfectly.

And since you were entering the homes of some of Korea’s wealthiest and most famous, the contract and background check for the position were quite lengthy. For example, you couldn’t touch anything unnecessary in their homes, couldn’t snoop around (obviously, you wouldn’t do that for a “regular” person anyway?), you weren’t even allowed to use their bathroom if you had to. The company had contacted all your previous employers, colleagues, some friends, even randomly requested internet browsing history a couple times! (I guess they wanted to make sure you weren’t a crazy stalker “fan” some K-pop groups you had heard about having, or a spy for another company’s CEO). The process was rather insane in your opinion, but alas, you passed, and honestly, the fact that you were a foreigner who didn’t speak much Korean probably helped your case. And to be fair, you really didn’t care about whose house you were in, you were just thankful to have acquired a job after your decision to move across the world that happened on a whim.

This particular unit was actually decorated quite nicely. It was more minimal style, with modern furniture that still felt warm and inviting. You figured it must be the home of someone younger, probably mid-twenties like you, but you also got the feeling they didn’t spend much time here. It was already in fairly immaculate shape (thankfully, it was your last job of the day, so you knew it was going to be quick) and didn’t seem very lived in in general. You couldn’t help but notice what looked like speakers and recording equipment shoved into the corner of the room. This place must belong to a musician or producer of some sort, you thought. You shrugged and turned back to where you had entered, lugging your cleaning supplies in through the front door. Then you put in your wireless headphones, pulled on your rubber gloves, and began by dusting around the surfaces of the living room.

Not long after you had started, you were in the bathroom off the guestroom wiping down the sink. A sudden sound of what you thought was the loud slam of a door shutting startled you. Your head shot up and you stopped what you were doing to remove an earphone from one of your ears. Immediately you heard the raised voice of a young woman coming from down the hall, followed by a quieter one from a man. Your heart started racing. Were you in the wrong unit? Had you read the schedule incorrectly? Did you get the address mixed up? You frantically pulled your phone from your back pocket to check the schedule that came directly from management. Yes, the date matched, it was Tuesday. Yes, the time matched, 2 in the afternoon. And the address was correct, too. So why were there people suddenly in the home? Did they know you were here? This had never happened before in the short time you had been doing this job, so you had no idea what to do. Continue working like you didn’t realize they were here? Make your presence known so you don’t seem like you’re being suspicious? Were you going to get in trouble with the company? Certainly not if you were just following the schedule, right? Your mind was going a mile a minute.

Then before you could quite make up your mind, the voices sounded even closer, and you could only make out a little bit of what they were saying, especially since your Korean wasn’t great yet.

“Why didn’t you go with me?... What were you thinking?” you heard the woman’s voice say (or something like that so you thought?) She sounded angry.

“I don’t know…” the man replied, followed by something else you couldn’t comprehend. He was still a lot quieter than her.

She spoke again.

“What are people going to say, Jungkook?”

You froze.

Jungkook.

Jungkook? Of BTS?

Okay, so you weren’t a crazy stalker fan or anything, but it was impossible to avoid knowing about the K-pop group BTS. They were literally everywhere around Seoul. Commercials on tv, billboards all over the city, posters on the subway trains… their faces even appeared on the coffee drink you had every morning for goodness sake! Since you kept seeing them, after you had gotten the job, you researched them a little bit. Their music was good, they seemed like genuine people, but never did you think you would be in one of their houses. There were hundreds of Korean businessmen, executives, celebrities, and only 7 members of BTS. Honestly, what were the chances?

Pretty good apparently. Fuck.

“I’m your girlfriend, Jungkook,” she continued annoyingly.

Ah, that’s right. In your brief research you had read he was seeing another idol. What was her name again?

“No, Cho-hee,” Jungkook replied.

Oh right. Kim Cho-hee. You remember now.

“You’re my pretend girlfriend.”

Your heart stopped.

Oh fuck! You definitely weren’t supposed to hear that. You had to show yourself now. That’s it, your decision was made for the sake of your career.

You quietly walked out of the room and found the two of them in the hallway with their backs turned to you. Just as Cho-hee was opening her mouth to respond you cleared your throat.

They both whipped around at your sudden sound. Yep, it was them alright. You recognized them immediately. They stared at you stunned for a second before Cho-hee spoke up.

“Who are you?!” she practically barked in Korean, taking a few steps towards you with her long slim legs, her large brown eyes wide, her dark hair whipping around her shoulders, her pale skin painted with a red hue.

“I, uh, I’m…” you stuttered, attempting to find the correct Korean words but failing miserably from being put on the spot.

Jungkook calmly put his hand around Cho-hee’s arm and pulled her back slightly.

“She the housekeeper,” he answered in Korean for you. Yes, that was the word you were looking for. “I don’t think she speaks Korean.”

Not well, anyway, thanks Jungkook.

He turned toward you, his dark brown eyes finding yours. Your stomach flipped from nervousness.

“You speak English?” he asked timidly in your native tongue.

All you could do was nod.

He let out a sigh of relief and said something you didn’t understand to Cho-hee, causing her to step back and a look of relief to wash over her face, too.

It was then that you realized they probably thought you didn’t understand their conversation. That you didn’t know the meaning of any of it. Should you come clean and tell them you understood? Particularly the “pretend girlfriend” stuff?

Cho-hee turned back toward the main room and beckoned at Jungkook.

“Come on, let the help continue working.”

Oof. ‘The help’. You definitely understood that. You knew cleaning the homes of rich people meant you may run into some entitlement, but dang, you didn’t think someone would make it so obvious, language barrier or not.

You winced.

Jungkook cocked his head, a confused look on his face. But then he shook it off.

“I think…” he said hesitantly in English, then shook his head to correct himself, “Ah um no, I thought you were here on Wednesday?”

You shook your head.

“No, um, my schedule says Tuesday. So, unless it’s wrong then…”

Jungkook put two fingers to the bridge of his nose in thought.

“Aiishh, no you are right, I’m sorry. I’m not here very often so I never can remember which day.”

You began taking off your gloves.

“It’s-it’s okay, I can go, come back at a better time…”

He waved his hands in front of him in protest.

“No, no, stay, continue, please. I don’t want to be an... interrupt... interruption? That’s the right word?” a blush formed on his face as he chuckled at himself.

You smiled. Cute.

“Yes, that’s right. Thank you. I’m almost done, I promise.”

He smiled at you again and nodded.

“Jungkook-ah!” Cho-hee yelled from the kitchen.

Jungkook then bowed to you and whispered a quick “thank you” before disappearing into the other room.

You hadn’t realized how tense your body had become until you they were out of your sight and you released your muscles with a deep breath.

You quickly decided to keep their conversation to yourself; no point in letting them know you accidentally heard every word and understood, right? You wouldn’t tell anyone, after all it wasn’t your business. Still, there was that thing you felt for not speaking up right away. What was this feeling again? Oh yeah. Guilt. You tried to shake it off and just continued scrubbing.

There were, thankfully, no more loud conversations between the two of them while you cleaned, but just as you were finishing up in the last room of the home you heard the front door open and close. Were you by yourself again? You listened for noises. Silence. You couldn’t help but feel a bit of relief.

However, upon stumbling back into the kitchen with all your cleaning supplies you noticed Jungkook sitting on a stool at the kitchen island. He was scrolling through his phone and eating a bowl of cereal. He jumped when he saw you, clutching his tattoo covered hand to his chest.

“Holy shit, I forgot you were here,” he stated breathlessly.

Your face turned hot.

“Sorry, I’m... sorry for startling you. And again, for being here while you’re here; the, um, schedule mix up, I’m, uh, not sure what happened…” you stumbled over your words. Real smooth.

He waved his hand while shoving another spoonful of cereal and milk into his mouth.

“No, no, really, it’s my fault. I forget the schedule sometimes.”

You shrugged and nodded.

“Yes, well, I imagine you’re pretty busy most of the time.”

Shit. The words fell out of your mouth before you could stop them. Weren’t you not supposed to know who he was? You mentally smacked yourself in the forehead.

He didn’t seem bothered though, he just replied with a nod and a small “mhmm”, as if to say, ‘you’re not wrong’.

You started walking towards the front door to leave (before you could get yourself in even more trouble), but right as you did so Jungkook lifted the cereal box up from its place on the counter, looked at you and asked, “Want some?”

You stopped in your tracks and hesitated.

“Umm… I’m not sure… I’m allowed?”

You felt silly for saying this as you were a grown ass adult, but you knew it was true. There were so many rules put in place with this job, and they hadn’t quite gotten to the clause about eating the client’s cereal.

Jungkook stood up and walked around to the cupboard, pulling a bowl down from the shelf and grabbing a spoon from the drawer.

He placed them at the spot across from him and gave you a small smile before sitting back down.

“It’s okay. I’m okay. Your secret is safe with me.”

He ran his fingers along his lips like a zipper which made you both laugh.

“That is my favorite cereal…” you admitted, putting your things on the floor and walking over to the stool.

As you were sitting down, Jungkook began pouring the milk into your bowl. You stared at it confusingly, caught off guard for a second. Not cereal first? He read your expression immediately.

“I know, I am weird, I put milk first, okay?”

You put your hands up and laughed, a blush on both your faces.

“I didn’t say anything,” you retaliated.

Jungkook jokingly narrowed his eyes at you as he poured in the cereal, a grin still across his lips.

“I saw it in your face.”

You chuckled nervously and looked down at your now full bowl, taking a spoonful up to your mouth.

“What’s your name?” Jungkook suddenly asked.

You swallowed before answering.

“(y/n).”

There was a pause.

“What’s… yours?” you asked coyly, wondering if you could get away with pretend naivety.

Jungkook cocked his head and let a breathy giggle out his nose as he chewed, it scrunching and creating wrinkles.

“Hmm... my name is… Park Jimin.”

You snorted, thankful that no milk shot out your nose.

He laughed at that, his perfect teeth on display.

Clearly, he was testing you. Two could play at that game.

“Oh yeah? Well then it’s nice to meet you, Jimin.”

He didn’t break eye contact with you as he took another bite.

“You too, (y/n).”

You smiled and shook your head, looking down to fill your spoon once more.

The two of you continued eating, just causally chatting, mostly about you and your move to Korea and your life back in your home country. Jungkook seemed so shy and sweet, the complete counterpart to his “pretend” girlfriend.

Your stomach flipped at the memory of the conversation you had overheard. You had almost forgot about it by now, wrapped up in the random moment of eating cereal with Jungkook. The guilty feeling returned. You knew you had to let him know, especially after how kind he has been to you. He could hate you, that was okay, it’s not like you had anything to lose.

Oh, except your job.

You dropped your spoon into the now empty bowl and took a deep breath.

“Umm... I have to tell you something…” you began before you could chicken out from this awkward conversation you were about to have with basically a stranger.

He put his bowl to his lips and slurped the milk while simultaneously looking up at you, waiting for you to continue.

“I speak some Korean. And I heard your conversation earlier… with, um, Cho-hee, and I understood… well, most of it,” he slowly placed his bowl back on the counter in front of him and stared at you with wide eyes, his lips slightly parted open, “But I-I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry, I just wasn’t sure what to do, and I-I swear I will keep it to myself and never mention it ever again; I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear anything, okay? Seriously. I promise.”

He didn’t say anything, and you couldn’t read the expression on his face. He stared off into space for a minute, then stood up and grabbed the empty bowls, walking them over to the sink and placing them inside. His back was to you as he hunched over, his hands supporting him on either side. Your heart was beating a mile a minute, your hands getting sweaty as you fiddled with your fingers.

“I really am sorry,” you whimpered softly, “Please, please don’t have me fired.”

He turned back to you, a surprised look on his face, his doe eyes wide.

“What? Why would I do that?”

You looked down.

“I don’t know… for not telling you I heard right away. For listening. For… being here while you’re here.”

Jungkook sighed and ran a hand through his long black hair, then shut his eyes tightly.

“I’m not worried you tell anyone, it’s okay. I have been thinking about… trying to end it anyway.”

He opened his eyes again and suddenly looked tired and worried. But you didn’t want to pry. It really wasn’t your place.

“Okay.”

Was all you could come up with to respond.

He glanced at you briefly and gave you a shy side smile.

“So, I don’t tell anyone you ate with me, you don’t tell I have a fake girlfriend?” he said jokingly, knowing he was the one who persuaded you to eat with him in the first place.

You chuckled and stuck out your hand.

“Yeah. Deal?”

He put his hand in yours. It was warm and felt so strong against your small one.

“Deal.”

You were so thankful he didn’t seem upset about the whole thing. In fact, he almost seemed relieved that someone else knew now. In this short time spent with him you knew you were leaving with only high praises and positive thoughts of Jeon Jungkook.

“Well, I better get going,” you said, standing up from the stool. You grabbed all your supplies and looked back up him.

“Thank you, um, for the cereal and being so understanding about everything.”

He nodded at you.

“I will remember your schedule next time and not disturb you by being here, okay?”

You smiled.

“You didn’t disturb me, but okay.”

“Tuesdays at…umm what time do you get here?” he put his fingers between his brows in thought again.

“2pm.”

He grinned at you and gave you a thumbs up.

“Okay! Okay okay! I got it! Let’s get it!”

You laughed and he chuckled embarrassingly.

“Well it was nice to meet you, Jungkook. Take care.”

You gave him a little wave as you went to the front door, opening it and stepping out.

“You too, (y/n),” he called after you, “I’ll see you around.”

>>next

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dreary-rain · 4 years ago

Text

The Storm Protects (Ch.1)

Continuation of this post

Venti/Aether

Warnings: angst, violence, injuries (full tags on AO3)

Find the full story here

The sky was cloudless as Aether strolled through Mondstadt, Paimon floating at his side. He stopped by the Adventurer’s Guild and chatted with Katheryne about upcoming commissions. After waving hello to Donna, Aether slipped inside Angel’s Share. It was a bit too early for the regular crowd, but there were a few people scattered around.

“Diluc!” Aether greeted with a smile. The redhead glanced up from where he was cleaning a glass.

“Aether, good to see you. How are you?” Diluc asked and set the glass down.

“No greeting for Paimon?” Paimon asked and crossed her arms. Aether shook his head with a smile and sat down at the bar.

“I didn’t forget about you,” Diluc said with a smile. “How are you, Paimon?”

“Paimon is doing great! But it would be better if you had something to eat.”

“Of course,” Diluc said and reached under the bar, pulling out a plate of food. Paimon’s eyes lit up, and she turned her attention to eating.

“Thank you,” Aether glanced back at Diluc. “I’m feeling better. It’s been a rough few weeks.”

“I can imagine. What brings you here?”

“I just wanted to see you. Well, I did have a question and a request, but that can wait.”

“By all means, go ahead. I’ll listen.”

“Well, in that case…” Aether cleared his throat and looked down. “Do you know what happened to… to the… to the Fatui who…”

“Ah, them.” Diluc saved Aether from having to spell it out. Aether had faced a dragon, fought a Harbinger, and fallen from the Jade Chamber, but nothing had brought him closer to death than his slip-up with the Fatui agents. Even now, he had trouble believing he had almost been killed by mere Fatui. But there had been plenty of strange occurrences that day. Battle after battle in a relatively peaceful area in Liyue was rather unusual. It was almost like his day had been planned by someone else so that Aether would be too exhausted to fend off the Fatui.

But why? Aether didn’t want to consider the possibility that not only the attack itself, but the entire day was planned just to kidnap him.

“I’m surprised you aren’t already aware. They were found dead at the Stone Gate.”

“Dead?” Aether looked up in shock. “That’s the first I’ve heard. And right where I was ambushed…”

“Well, it’s been two weeks since it happened, but you were still on bed rest. We didn’t want to alarm you while you were healing.”

“I understand. But who…” Aether stopped. “Diluc, did you—?”

“No. It wasn’t me. Someone got to the bastards before I could,” Diluc said bitterly. “Don’t look so surprised. Half of Mondstadt would kill for you.”

Aether looked down and clasped his hands in his lap. He stole a glance at Paimon, but she was too engrossed in her food to be paying attention. Aether knew what Diluc said was true, but it was still unnerving. Why would they go to such lengths for Aether? He wasn’t from Teyvat. He was an outsider, an outlander, someone who didn’t belong. He didn’t deserve the kindness and protection of so many.

“You don’t need to go to such lengths.”

“There’s no necessity of it. We want to protect you, and anyone who lays a hand on you will suffer.” Diluc rested his palms on the bar and leaned forward. “Let’s say it were Venti who was almost killed. To what lengths would you go to keep him safe and hurt those who dared harm him?”

Unconsciously, Aether tensed. If someone harmed Venti… Aether would kill them. Morals aside, no one would touch Venti and live. In his mind’s eye, Aether saw La Signora plunging her hand into Venti’s chest, stealing his Gnosis and then kicking him aside like trash.

Aether didn’t trust himself to speak, but Diluc saw the murderous expression on his face. If Aether ever saw La Signora again, he would end her with his own two hands.

“Do you understand now?” Diluc asked, and Aether nodded, taking a breath to relax. He was safe, Venti was safe, and La Signora was nowhere near either of them.

Uncurling his hands, he rubbed his palms to soothe the crescents his nails had left. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make the mood so sullen.”

“No worries. Now, I hate to cut this short, but business will be picking up soon,” Diluc said with a glance at the door. Aether quickly stood.

“I won’t bother you much longer. But I did have a request. I’d like to purchase a bottle of dandelion wine.”

Diluc raised a brow. “You’re underage.”

Aether resisted the urge to facepalm. If only Diluc knew that he and his twin were older than everyone in Mondstadt combined.

“It’s not for me. I have a guest coming over tonight and I’d like to treat him.”

“That’s what they all say,” Diluc shook his head, but there was a smile on his lips as he opened the cabinet behind him.

“Come on, Paimon. Time to go.” Aether slid enough mora to Diluc and took the bottle of wine. Paimon thanked Diluc for the food, and then they went to leave.

“Say hello to Venti for me,” Diluc said as goodbye. “And tell him to pay his tab or I’ll stop serving him.”

“He’ll weasel free drinks from your patrons if that does occur,” Aether laughed. “But I’ll remind him.”

“Take care, Aether.”

The sun was nearing the horizon as Aether walked home. The shadows were long, but Aether made a point of avoiding them. He always made sure to make it home before dark.

In worlds past, it had always been Lumine who was afraid of the dark. Aether would tease her about it, but he’d always make sure to leave a light on at night. Now, the roles were reversed. Aether couldn’t stand the dark, not without being reminded of his near death experience. He wouldn’t travel at night anymore, making sure to be in a safe place before falling asleep.

Meanwhile, Lumine was at home in the darkness of the Abyss. Aether wondered if she ever thought of him, or if she was so dead set on her goals that he was an afterthought. Would Aether have ever seen her if he hadn’t traveled with Dain? Aether was tempted to track down the Abyss Herald just to see her again. He would brave the terror-inducing energy of the domain housing the inverted statue just to see her again. He would fall into the darkness of the Abyss just to find her again, to beg that she come home with him.

But if their roles were reversed, would Lumine do the same? Aether didn’t want to know the answer. The bitter sadness that was left from her abrupt departure was too much to sort through.

“Aether, cheer up! Paimon knows you’re thinking about your sister again, but it’ll be okay. We’ll find her again, don’t you worry,” Paimon broke Aether out of his thoughts.

“You’re right. It may take some time, but we’ll find her,” Aether said with a small smile. There was no use dwelling on Lumine now, not when Aether needed to get ready for his guest.

Ever since the incident three weeks ago, Aether had been staying in an apartment in Mondstadt. Even though he had his teapot, Aether felt safer in Mondstadt, surrounded by people he loved. He didn’t want to burden anyone by asking them to join him in his teapot realm, but he was too lonely by himself. He couldn’t bear being alone. What if something happened and he was all by himself again?

Diluc had offered Aether his city apartment for as long as he needed to recover, but Aether had initially turned down the offer. It wasn’t until he’d been cooking in his teapot mansion and accidentally cut himself chopping vegetables that he reconsidered the offer. The sudden sting of pain and the blood welling on his fingers had sent Aether into such a panic that Paimon had found him huddled on the ground in the kitchen minutes later. It was at Paimon’s firm suggestion that Aether moved into Diluc’s apartment.

Aether made it to the apartment, walking up the stairs to his door. To his surprise, the door was unlocked. That was cause for alarm. Aether always locked the door when he left.

But he was in the middle of Mondstadt, and it wasn’t even night yet. Besides, there were two others who had keys to the apartment. One being its owner, Diluc, and the other being…

“Ehe, hello Aether. I may have let myself in,” Venti said from beside the stove. He was cooking dinner. Aether heaved a sigh of relief. It was just Venti. While hanging up his cape and scarf, Aether noticed Venti’s hat on the coat rack and his shoes at the base.

“It’s no problem. I’m going to change into something more comfortable. I wasn’t expecting you this early,” Aether said while pulling his gloves off.

“I know, but I wanted to treat you with dinner tonight. My food is quite tasty when I cook it right.”

“Well, thank you. I brought you dandelion wine. Diluc says hello, but wants you to pay your tab or he’ll cut you off.” Aether placed the wine on the table while Paimon floated over to Venti to help with the food. Well, she probably just wanted to sneak some food from the bard.

“That Mister Diluc always threatens me, but he always serves me reluctantly.” Venti stirred the contents of the pot. “Thank you for the gift. Which reminds me, I brought you something, though it’s a bit makeshift. I’ll bring something adequate next time.”

“Don’t stress yourself out. I’ll appreciate anything you give me. Now, I’ll be back. Don’t burn the house down in the meantime.”

Venti clutched his shirt in mock hurt. “Aether, you wound me.”

Aether just smiled and closed his bedroom door. He summoned his sword and hung it on the wall, then rummaged through his dresser for more casual clothes. When he was done, he joined Venti at the table.

“One Archon special coming right up!” Venti placed a plate full of food in front of Aether and Paimon.

“Is it just Paimon or does this look like a Sweet Madame?”

“Ehe.” Venti rubbed the back of his head and sat across from Aether. “It’s one of the few recipes I can make myself.”

“Well, it’s better than Zhongli. I’m not sure he even knows how to cook rice,” Aether pointed out. “He’ll lecture you all day long on the proper way to prepare rice for different meals, but I bet he wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“He’d be stuck the moment he needs to buy ingredients. That blockhead never changes,” Venti agrees.

“For being the god of Mora, Zhongli never seems to have any. Ironic, isn’t it?” Paimon said, eliciting laughs from Aether and Venti.

“Jokes aside, this tastes really good, Venti,” Aether complimented sincerely.

“Why, thank you. I try.”

Aether washed their plates when they were done. The sun had gone down, the sky painted in shades of red and pink fading into blue.

“Paimon, could you make sure all of the candles are lit?”

“No need to fret. I lit them before we met,” Venti assured while pouring himself wine. “Come sit back down and I’ll give you your gift.”

Aether sat beside Venti, who placed a flower pot on the table.

“Flowers?”

“Dandelions!” Venti said, gesturing to the Anemo-colored puffs. “They grow where there is gentle wind, and in Mondstadt they grow without end. While freedom is our creed, I think these little ones will love it here.”

Aether stared at the dandelions, drawing the clay pot a bit closer to him.

“And, uh, also,” Venti said a bit nervously, “I thought they’d remind you of me, so that even when alone, I’ll be with you in memory.”

It was such a thoughtful gift, given the circumstances, that Aether felt unbearably happy. In lieu of a response, Aether leaned over and hugged Venti.

“Thank you,” he whispered, smiling as Venti’s arms wrapped snugly around Aether’s waist. After a moment, Aether leaned back, relishing in the way Venti’s hands lingered a moment longer than necessary.

“I’ll put them on my bedside table by the window. That way I’ll see the dandelions every time I wake up.”

Aether stood, grabbing the dandelion pot, and gestured for Venti to follow. Paimon stayed in the kitchen, munching on cookies Aether had bought earlier in the day.

After placing the dandelions beside his bed, Aether sat down and pulled the elaborate hair tie off and set it aside.

“Help me with my hair?”

“Of course!” Venti climbed onto the bed behind Aether, crossing his legs and grabbing the end of Aether’s braid. “Do you have a brush?”

“Behind you.”

Venti deftly sifted his fingers through Aether’s long, blond hair, carefully untangling any snarls. Aether swallowed, closing his eyes at the pleasant sensation.

It was moments like this that reminded Aether of his feelings for Venti. The care and kindness the god gave him made Aether feel special. Out of anyone in the world, Venti chose to spend his time with Aether. Before Aether had arrived in Teyvat, Venti hadn’t stayed in one place for too long. He had gone where the wind wanted to go, but after meeting Aether, the Archon was never out of reach.

“You like that, hmm?” Venti hummed as he combed through Aether’s hair.

“Mmhmm. You’re gentle. Lumine used to braid my hair, but she’d always pull too hard on the tangles.”

“I braid my own hair enough to know how to be gentle,” Venti said softly. Aether couldn’t see him, but he sounded like he was smiling. Fingers ran down the length of his hair. “Your hair is much longer. And softer.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were back there petting my hair,” Aether teased.

“Maybe I am. It’d be a waste not to.”

Aether opened one eye and turned his head slightly to look at Venti. He was surprised to see a serious look on Venti’s face. It was one full of contemplation.

“Venti?”

“Tell me, Aether, what do you think of me?”

Aether considered the question. The obvious answer was that he loved Venti, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. What if Venti didn’t love him back? It would ruin the friendship they’d built.

Except, when Aether thought about it, Venti didn’t treat Aether like another one of his friends. A mere friend wouldn’t come by Aether’s apartment every night, wouldn’t cook dinner and bring presents for no reason, and wouldn’t help Aether with his hair. An Archon wouldn’t abandon centuries of wandering to stay with Aether unless Aether meant something more to him. Venti hadn’t left his side since the incident with the Fatui, always checking in on him, protecting him.

Suddenly, Aether remembered his conversation with Diluc. The answer was obvious now.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Aether mumbled. He looked at Venti, at his gaze so full of love and kindness, and realized he’d been a fool. This whole time, Venti had harbored feelings beyond friendship. Aether had been too oblivious to see it until now.

“Venti, I…” Venti perked up. Aether fought the rising blush. “I love you.”

Venti’s eyes widened, but then his lips curled into a soft smile. Venti leaned forward, eyes flicking down to Aether’s lips. Aether’s face flushed red, but he closed his eyes. Less than a moment later, Venti’s lips met his.

It was a chaste, simple kiss, but it sent tingles down Aether’s spine. Venti brought his hand up to Aether’s cheek, pulling back enough to speak.

“If the kiss didn’t convey the sentiment, I love you, Aether,” Venti said, his breath hot against Aether’s lips. “This is a bit of an awkward position, with you twisting around like that.”

As soon as he’d said it, Venti shuffled around, swinging a leg over Aether’s hips. Venti settled on his knees over Aether’s lap, forcing Aether to tilt his head up to see him.

“That’s better,” Venti said with a satisfied hum, then captured Aether’s lips in another kiss. Venti cupped Aether’s face with his hands, his lips plump against Aether’s. Venti kissed with a passion, fervent and controlled at the same time.

His right hand trailed to the nape of Aether’s neck, then tangled into his hair. With a sharp tug, Venti pulled on Aether’s hair, tilting Aether’s head at an even sharper angle. A soft gasp escaped Aether’s throat, his hands flying to steady himself on Venti’s waist.

“It’s been so long,” Venti murmured against Aether’s skin as he trailed his kisses along Aether’s jaw, “since someone has made me feel this way.”

Venti mouthed over Aether’s exposed neck, tightening the hand in his hair.

“Venti…” Aether breathed as Venti nipped at the base of his throat. His fingers curled around Venti’s waist at the sensation. He vaguely noted how small Venti’s waist was, how well it fit into Aether’s hands.

Venti’s hand fell away from Aether’s face to rest on the topmost button of Aether’s shirt. Quickly, Aether grabbed his wrist.

“Kisses are enough for now,” Aether said breathlessly. He didn’t think he could handle much more. Venti nodded, removing his hand and pressing a kiss to Aether’s cheek.

“We’ll stop here, then.” Venti brushed a strand of hair from Aether’s face. Aether noted smugly that Venti’s lips were red and slick. He looked a mess, but Aether was sure he looked worse.

“I never said no more kisses,” Aether whined as Venti slipped off of his lap.

“I know, but I don’t think it would be easy to stop if we got ourselves too worked up,” Venti explained. “But, I’ll give you all the kisses you want when I visit tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” Aether agreed with a blush and looked down. A finger tilted his chin upward.

“I love you,” Venti said with a wide smile. He giggled, kissing Aether on the forehead before walking to the bedroom door. “I’ve been waiting forever to say that.”

Aether stood to follow, a giddy smile on his own face. Venti loved him. It was as simple as that, and yet it made Aether’s heart swell with joy.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Aether promised as they walked through the kitchen. Paimon looked up from where she was sitting at the table, taking a break from floating.

She took one look at them before huffing, “Finally. Pining idiots.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Aether asked incredulously. Paimon just shook her head and took a bite out of her chocolate chip cookie.

“Goodnight, Aether,” Venti said and adjusted his hat after slipping on his shoes. “I love you.”

“You’re going to say that every time you see me, aren’t you?” Aether joked, leaving against the door frame.

“I’m a bard. I’ll come up with poetic ways to express my love once my head clears up.” Venti stood outside on the stairs. “Thank you for tonight. I left the dandelion wine. I’ll drink more next time.”

“See you tomorrow, Venti.”

“Until tomorrow.” Venti started down the stairs, then paused. “Aether, you should wear your hair down more. You look beautiful in a braid, but in the presence of your unbound hair, the beauty of the heavens fades.”

Aether blushed, pressing his lips together in embarrassment. He absentmindedly twirled his hair.

“Too much?” Venti asked sheepishly.

“I’m flattered,” Aether said. “A little embarrassed, but very flattered.”

“Hmm…” Venti‘s eyes flicked up and down Aether, then settled on his eyes. “I’ll have to make a point of flattering you. That blush suits you.”

“Venti,” Aether whined. “My heart can’t take it.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll take my leave now before I give you a heart attack.”

“See you!” Aether waved as Venti left. Then he shut the door, locking both of the deadbolts. When he entered the kitchen, Paimon was asleep at the table.

“How does someone who floats and eats all day get tired so easily?” Aether shook his head, then picked Paimon up and laid her down on her bed. She had insisted on having her own bed in the apartment, so Aether had found a child sized bed for her and placed it in the corner of his bedroom.

“Goodnight, Paimon,” Aether said. He fumbled with his shirt, hand pausing on the top button with a blush. All in due time, he thought as he changed into sleep clothes.

Aether climbed into bed, glancing at the dandelions on the bedside, and put his finger to his lips. He could still taste the dandelion wine from Venti’s lips. With a smile, Aether fell into a peaceful sleep.

“Aether!” Paimon’s high pitched scream startled Aether awake. His eyes snapped open and he shot out of the bed. It took a moment to gather his bearings, but that was enough time to recognize the danger he was in.

A hulking silhouette stood in the doorway, holding a struggling Paimon by the throat.

“Aether,” she whimpered, and Aether shot forward, reaching for his sword on the wall. He didn’t make it.

The window shattered as a man leapt inside and collided with Aether. He fell backwards from the force, his head slamming against the bedside table. The pot of dandelions toppled over with a crash. Black spots danced across Aether’s vision, but he struggled to his feet.

In such close quarters, using his Palm Vortex wasn’t the best idea, but without a sword it was his only option. Before he could use it, a gust of Anemo snuffed out the candles in the room. In the sudden darkness, Aether could make out the purple glow of the electrohammer vanguard holding Paimon, and the green of the anemoboxer in front of Aether.

Fatui. A spike of fear shot through Aether.

That moment of hesitation was all the anemoboxer needed to rush Aether, knocking him to the ground. A hand pinned him to the ground, wrapping around his throat and crushing his windpipe. Aether scrabbled at the hand, kicking to no avail.

With one hand trying to alleviate the pressure on his throat, the other lifted toward the anemoboxer in an attempt to summon his Palm Vortex. Anticipating this, the anemoboxer grabbed Aether’s wrist and twisted.

A sickening crack echoed in the room. Aether screamed and dropped his hand to the side. Despite the pain, he weakly raised his other hand, but the anemoboxer brought something out of his pocket. There was a sharp pinch on Aether’s neck, and he watched as the anemoboxer pulled an empty syringe away.

Aether tried to summon his Anemo, but nothing happened. The hand on his neck was finally gone, but his body felt lethargic. He gasped, coughing from being strangled.

“Aether,” Paimon sobbed.

“Leave the pixie. La Signora just wants the boy,” the anemoboxer told his companion. Aether heard Paimon’s scream followed by a thud. It was quiet.

Aether couldn’t fight the drowsiness forcing his eyes closed. He couldn’t move despite the panic coursing through him at the mention of La Signora. The electrohammer vanguard picked up Aether’s limp body, and he couldn’t fight back.

Aether thought Mondstadt was safe. He caught a glimpse of the soil spilled around the broken pot, the dandelions standing tall despite it.

Aether’s last waking thought was of Venti.

#venti #aether #aether x venti #genshin impact #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin angst

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purplerose244 · 4 years ago

Text

It was always you

Hello everyone!! 😊

I’m a bit late but I really wanted to contribute to the @lukadrien-june event, I hope this is okay! Based on the third prompt, while throwing in some character study for sunshine boy! 💛

Enjoy!! 😙😙

Summary: Love was supposed to be easy, at least in his head. A pure perfect fairy tale... except it was not. Adrien takes probably more time to realize it than other people but he is getting there. Especially not alone.

Read it on the AO3 here

If there was one thing that Adrien wished he had known, before giving up homeschooling once and for all and finally starting to build a life, was that loving wasn’t nearly as simple and dreamlike as his extremely well-developed imagination had led him to believe. He truly wished that he could borrow Bunnix’ Miraculous sometimes, just to head back to that room where he used to spend his entire time on his own dreaming of himself and his soulmate and getting married at sight, and tell him that if living was hard outside, heart matters were even harder.

Love wasn’t that ideal, it wasn’t reductive.

It wasn’t nearly that basic either. It took him a while, but he had figured it out.

It had all started with Ladybug of course, most of his new experiences in the real world had started with her. He had fallen in love with her pretty much two days after meeting her… granted, being stuck into his own house for years thinking of himself as a poor prince in waiting of a savior rather than a knight out to get the princess, might had developed in him a bit of an eagerness for romance. She was smart, beautiful, courageous, resourceful and a hero, what was there not to love? Besides they were Chat Noir and Ladybug, they were meant to be… because… that was Ladybug. The moment he had realized how much he loved that image – if he used to fantasize before looked at him now –, and how he had started to slowly care less and less about knowing what was hiding behind it, that was the dealbreaker. He didn’t want to be in love with a figure, an icon for Paris, because it was what all people had always reduced him to. It would have not been a good way to start, and it would have not been fair for her either.

Getting over all those dreams about the marriage, the children and the hamster – oh the hamster, heart stay still – that he had wished for so intensely had been… easy? Not exactly, but smooth. A strong emptiness and pain that had slowly faded away with time. After all, Ladybug was never going to be far from him, and she cared about him a lot, he knew that much. He could love her, no matter what, no matter in what way.

After that singular and very one-sided experience, a spectacular sequence of disasters had made him slowly and steadily feel aware of how much messier the concept of relationships really was. One thing was dodging Chloe’s overly affectionate tendencies or his fans’ intense assaults over him; the other realizing that Kagami was ready to commit into something he wasn’t sure of, that Lila was still somehow convinced that he wanted something to do with her after all of her lies – for a fox this sly she sure was in denial… why did that sound hypocrite? –, and that Marinette had apparently harbored feelings for him almost as soon as they had met – oh yeah that was why. Life, a real, multifaced, worth living life was chaotic and confusing, it hurt, and it saddened, and he was behind everyone, struggling like mad to catch up.

Rejecting so many people he cared about had been awful. Some of his closest friends, all important parts of his life in different ways, and all because he wasn’t smart enough to understand feelings and his own clearly weren’t right. When Marinette had smiled at him with tears in her eyes, saying that it was okay and that she understood, Adrien had decided that it was enough. He wasn’t going to attempt anything else, if it always ended up with hurting someone he cared about.

He could deal with his feelings on his own, he always did, without paining anyone. There was no problem anyway, after Ladybug no one had ever shaken his heart.

No one, no one at all… and during that time, between slowly realizing that perhaps looking for wedding rings after two days sounded a little unreasonable and somehow managing to hate his face plastered all over Paris even more than before, the Music Festival had occurred, along with the awakening of Captain Hardrock. The famous tripping over the bridge had happened, a goofiness that had somehow gotten him into a band.

Him had happened. The charming, kind, intriguing guitarist of the Liberty, that had welcomed him the moment he had been there.

Luka Coffaine.

… Adrien was starting to hate his heart a little bit.

Luckily or unluckily, around that time he had found himself too caught up in his and other people’s messes to even realize how he had always unconsciously smiled at the boy whenever he was there, and how it had become normal for him to stay with him after band practice, without caring on how father could had reacted to his delay – just how dense was he about his feelings… never mind. It took Lila to finally focus on something other than plotting, Chloe to start paying attention to her own life instead of worsening others, and Marinette and Kagami to begin exchange sweet looks for him to finally find some normality to think – and develop an extremely intense fanboy soul.

Enough to realize that ever since Desperada, with the brilliant introduction of Viperion to the team, Adrien had found himself as Luka’s confidant, the only one besides Ladybug aware of his secret identity. Exciting stories, confessions, insecurities, all while the guitarist was making such an effort to communicate with words, because he trusted him enough not to judge his mind.

And Adrien was enjoying the confidence, the vicinity. A lot. Truly a lot.

… way too much for it to be normal.

It had woken him at night. He had teared up in his bed, curled on one side while Plagg had been purring next to his ear all night. It was the first time that being in love had felt this terrifying. He didn’t want to mess everything up, not again, not with Luka. The freedom he felt with being on the Liberty, the time spent with his friends in the band, the warming welcome he had always received from captain Anarka and Juleka – and by extension Rose, those two always came in pair –, and every single moment spent without having to care about who he was and what did he represent because Luka didn’t care about covers, he cared about the real music coming from people. Everything could disappear in a moment.

With that set of mind, he had spent some of the most tense moments of his life, constantly pondering about what to do next. What exactly was a person supposed to do if he liked another without making a mess? What was the alternative to confess his undying love and hope to plan a wedding at the end of his studies? Was there an alternative??

His anxious attitude had inevitably gotten the attention of his group of friends, that for some miracle hadn’t gotten tired of his denseness, especially Marinette. She hadn’t seemed to care much, especially not while distractively holding the amulet Kagami had made for her – somehow love life had made the fencer even deadlier during practice, like she was fighting was someone, impressive. It had taken them to bribe him with a new recipe of croissants from the Dupain-Cheng bakery to be forced to talk, a necessity that had exploded out of his lips the moment his friends had been gathered on Marinette’s bed to listen. The sweets had been amazing. Just a bit salty… but that was probably because he hadn’t been able to talk without tearing up all over the food.

At the end of the discussion, Marinette had squeaked so loudly his ears had started to ring.

“You have to confess and get together, you two would be a great couple!” To which he had responded that he didn’t want to risk it, especially since he didn’t know how it was going to end.

Alya had slammed her hands over her own knees – ouch –, standing up.

“You have to man up! Don’t think about what could happen, go for it and make him yours!” To which he had said that he didn’t want to be insensitive again in case it didn’t go well – also that that kind of wording was a little confusing, enough to turn him bright red.

Then Nino had looked up from his phone, looking a little baffled. He had changed too, considering that love matters used to make him all nervous.

“Why don’t you ask him out first and see how it goes from there? You don’t have to become boyfriends if it feels too soon.” The table had gone silent, all eyes were on the DJ, who simply arched an eyebrow. “… you do know you can go on a date with someone, realize that it’s not working without actually get together, right?” More silence had followed. Adrien was sure that he had felt a weird mixture of disappointment and relief, while Marinette had looked so very shocked.

In conclusion, Nino was amazing. Like that was new.

Starting from there the blonde had been practicing in front of the mirror every day, terrified of rejection but less tense over how things could go. Despite fans and admirers his past relationships, if those could be called, weren’t giving him much of a booster or a good feeling about how this chance was going to play. Somehow it hardly mattered. Luka was a very reasonable person, he was going to reject him very nicely. It had been almost uplifting the idea of the guitarist treating him with absolute kindness, even while shattering all of his dreams.

One day Luka had called him over for an improv session. It happened often, this artist was extremely instinctive when it came to music, and he had told him that having a more rational and accurate player like Adrien around grounded him to his usual style. It was flattering every time he was called for that same reason, it was an occasion that made the blonde ignore all about his current schedule – of course he was at fencing right now, Kagami could cover- uhm, confirm for him –, to finally focus on something that he really wanted to do. Luka was always waiting over the bed of his room, playing a few notes, stopping for minutes then going again. It was calming and endearing, like Adrien was allowed to hear the inside of his mind.

He had been standing there, legs crossed at the end of the bed while Luka was lying down with the instrument. There had been only sounds for all of this time, without additions or suggestions or anything. It was nice. Really nice. Adrien had wondered what else could he discover out of him just by stay close like this, and how much he wanted to. The need to let those words out had been steadily growing without him realizing it.

“Luka?” Until they were out. “Do you wanna go on a date with me?” Mirror practice had helped, it had come out almost mechanically. There was a spark into his stomach, the adrenaline pouring out. The melody in the air had stopped for a pretty terrifying second.

Then it had come back as a full, real song. It was timid, sweet, and sincere.

“I’d love to.” In his own giddiness, Adrien could admit of being wrong. Yet he was almost sure he had seen the calm and controlled guitarist blush the tiniest little bit.

A single date at the restaurant where Alya’s mother worked at without people in the way – he loved his friends so much – had followed another one walking hand in hand through Rue Montorgueil in disguise – at last he had achieved his long-lasting dream of looking like someone else without the mask –, that had followed another one at a secret party Chloe had organized at Le Grand Paris for her classmates – she had given him such a smirk at seeing his plus one, gossip was coming. It had nothing to do with the dates of his daydreams, the ones he had lived through his head for years: every single time his stomach was so tense it felt like it was burning, painfully, making him question if he really wanted this. Then, the moment they were there talking, engaging themselves into an interesting topic while letting time pleasantly leave them behind, the stress was gone and there were only the two of them.

They had gone like this for months. Some absolutely lovely months. At some point Alya, stopping him at school, had calmly stated that him and Luka combined with Marinette and Kagami were making her feel single, and she had a boyfriend, so it was probably time to make it official. He had agreed with her, of course he had. He liked Luka… yeah right, he loved him. Everything with him felt so real, so close and intense, like he was finally living.

His feelings weren’t the problem… Luka’s were.

Not that he doubted him. Not after all the little orange blossoms left over his keyboard before band practice – they meant eternal love, oh heart stay still once again –, the songs sung for him whenever he felt upset or angry at his father, or the hand kisses at the end of every single date, like he was being cherished every single time. One of the guitarist’s biggest qualities was his sincerity, Adrien was absolutely sure he could trust him and his heart. Just how he had never blamed anyone before, not Chloe, not Kagami, not Marinette, not even Lila, for their feelings towards him.

They had been real, like his own feelings for Ladybug used to be… but they were for Adrien only, the supermodel, Paris’ iconic pretty face and perfect boy. That perfection in him, one he had been forced to practice in order to please his father, that was attracted others, but it wasn’t in any way all that was in him.

What was all the rest? It was also there. But it came out only whenever he wore the mask.

With time, the image he had been forced to wear for the profit of his father had grown into an uncomfortable, old sweater that he hadn’t known it had felt unbelievably itchy until he got the possibility to take it off, to try something else. And that black-leather armor was his absolute favorite. Nothing felt like freedom as that, nothing felt like him as those moments, whenever he jumped into the sky holding hard onto his staff. Thanks to his Miraculous he had discovered himself. Thanks to that he had found out that he liked making jokes, he loved puns, he liked making a fool of himself for the sake to have fun. He liked risking, he liked dancing, he wasn’t too keen on closed places, and he absolutely loved how the moon reflected into the Seine at night after patrol. Everything was him, so vividly him it made him choke a little at the mere thought of it.

Adrien Agreste was another mask, one he was growing considerably tired to wear. He had been through some love experiences now, even though they did not end quite well: there was no point into pretending to be someone he wasn’t, there was no meaning into hiding himself when he truly wanted to establish a bond with someone. He had known this, he knew this.

But if everyone liked Adrien better… if Luka liked Adrien better, how was he supposed to do that?

The tension coming from those thoughts was there only when he wasn’t around his favorite guitarist, making him at least forget about the dilemma coming with. Even so, around those times he had found himself at least wondering exactly what kind of opinion his date had about Chat Noir. He wasn’t sure, they had never talked much in their superhero personas, because of the urge of the moment and because with his lady’s strategic mind and a power like Second Chance it was unfairly easy sometimes to solve the situation – Ladybug needed to start bringing Viperion more often and yes, maybe just a little bit to see more of Luka in sexy snake cosplay. He was fairly sure he didn’t mind him, he seemed to even smile at him sometimes – total heart eyes –, but he wanted to be sure.

It had been night at the Liberty, they had ordered pizza. Sugary drinks made Rose giggle like mad, so Juleka had brought her to her room to take a nap and probably cuddle, leaving the two of them alone. That wasn’t weird. Wondering if the guy Adrien was dating liked his cat counterpart, that was weird. At the end, looking at how relaxed the boy over the sofa was while distractively bending the last pizza crust, he hadn’t been able to do pose a potentially confusing question, asking instead what he thought about Ladybug – he had made a mental post-it to whine loudly into his pillow later.

Luka had brought up stuff he already knew, how she was a great leader, an inspiration, extremely smart and courageous. Despite the failure of questioning him Adrien had smiled, he was weirdly happy they thought the same about his partner.

“She has a huge responsibility and deals with it incredibly, that’s commendable… with that being said, my favorite is Chat Noir.” A boom inside. “He’s hot.” A second, bigger explosion had occurred into Adrien’s head – in a feeble spark of lucidity he had begged his brain not to produce smoke out of his ears. Luka had laughed, playing some more, without looking directly at him. “And he’s such a selfless, reliable person, you can tell from how he doesn’t hesitate to help others or support me or Ladybug. He’s incredibly loyal, and… really funny.”

It had taken perhaps a second too long, in which a thousand of tiny little Adrien running all over his brain had been screaming out loud hysterically about how this handsome guitarist was a Chat Noir fan, and it had been the best day ever. Then he had managed to talk, ask, his voice was a little raspy.

“You… you like his puns?” Luka had scooted closer to him, smirking a little.

“It’s our little secret.” With that he had put a hand around his shoulders, bringing him closer to him. The blonde had abandoned himself into the embrace, trying to hide the giddy smile in his chest.

It got easier to let himself go from that moment forward, knowing that at least some parts of Chat Noir Luka didn’t mind at all. Having Nino groaning like mad after they had all taken their matchmaker ice creams from Andre, with Adrien coming out with a “I scream for an ice cream”, had been worth it just to see the guitarist rolling his eyes with an endeared smile. It had felt good. He couldn’t fully let go, being a model and famous and all that baloney, but he could stop pretending for a moment and embrace a little bit more about himself.

It had hit him much later that perhaps, maybe, possibly, the matter of telling Luka about his superhero identity was meant to come up at some point. It hadn’t seemed an important matter before, he was not supposed to do reveal it anyway according to Ladybug. Then again, this wasn’t a relationship behind masks like that one, it was as open as it could be. Also Plagg wasn’t exactly the biggest fan or rules anyway, he had doubted he would have minded. Hearing Luka talking about his latest adventure with Viperion, basically summarizing everything Adrien already knew from his point of view, made him feel a bit guilty about not coming clean. Still, it was hard to recall that unpleasantness with Luka always ending the discussion making a comment about Chat Noir, probably catching up over the fact that Adrien was also a ‘fan’. Knowing that such a charming boy like Luka considered his pun machine alter ego attractive, stating that the only blondie with green eyes as handsome he knew was Adrien, was definitely a good way to end the day.

Then, that had happened. Apparently, Hawk Moth had thought that the idea of unleashing once again Gorizilla over the powerless city of Paris was a hilarious idea. It had taken them forever to calm him down, the bodyguard had been all agitated since there had been no sign of his protegee – at least for what he knew. Cataclysm, Lucky Charm, Miraculous Ladybug, the script was old and overused and after the most tired pound it ever Adrien had called it a day, sinking into his own bed as soon as he had been home.

The unconscious was a calming place, a pleasant one, just like Luka.

Just like Luka… Luka… the date.

Out of pure will and terror he had managed to get on his feet, realizing with horror that not only he hadn’t just fallen asleep, but he was also late. Two. Hours. Late. Dread didn’t describe properly the feeling that had taken over. Begging a very annoyed looking Plagg he had launched himself into the night sky, running on all four out of pure despair. When he had arrived at the restaurant, miserably closed, Luka was leaning over the wall of the entrance that was off, humming a very mellow, very melancholic melody. And he had dressed up, for once in his life wearing something classy, a white dress shirt and a black jacket without sleeves. His hair had grown a bit in those months, enough for him to pull a little ponytail.

What a waste, Adrien had thought. What a waste on someone like him, this beautiful person lightening up as soon as he was there, running to hug him, saying that he knew there had been an akuma today and he was happy to see he was okay. Except he wasn’t, this wasn’t, it was not okay. He was taking advantage of his position, the fact that there was stuff he was keeping for himself. It wasn’t fair for himself, most importantly it wasn’t fair for him.

“And you’re okay with this?” He didn’t know what he had been implying with those words, he had felt the need to get them out. To be heard. Because Luka always listened.

The guitarist had given him a weird, aware look, holding up his hands.

“I am if you are.” Unfair. Unfair. Unfair. Nothing but that feeling of guilt had filled his heart, and Adrien had rushed in, hugging him as closely as he could. Luka had embraced back, caressing his back slowly and gently as it was his way of being, telling him that they could postpone on a day with a less dangerous akuma terrorizing the city. Adrien had kept his eyes shut, choking silent sobs against his jacket. Thinking that maybe it was okay, maybe they could still keep going like this. H was scared, besides there was no need to change anything, or even better there was no need to say something that wasn’t needed. This was enough, this could be enough.

Adrien had then opened his eyes, only to feel them pinching. From the window of the restaurant, he could see the lonely white table with two dishes and two glasses, and all around… were candles and roses. Luke remembered. He had remembered the mention of the romantic gesture the blonde had done for a girl that hadn’t gone as planned. He had remembered how Adrien had always wished for something like that for himself. He knew how much of a hopeless romantic he was. Luka knew him.

At the same time, he didn’t. He didn’t know him. It was not okay.

It was not okay, and it was not enough.

Mirror sessions were back after that, more frantic than ever but less frequent than he would have liked – he was dense he could admit, not enough to proclaim to his father or Nathalie that he was Chat Noir while in the shower. He had wished it was like preparing for a shooting, or even imagining to be an actor like mom was. The tension was nothing like. The number of warnings coming from all directions was massive, starting from how once again his friends were getting worried about him – he wasn’t going to resist the bribe of chocolate chip cookies for long –, how Ladybug had expressively told him no one was supposed to know about their real identities, how there was no telling how Luka was going to react over the fact that his date was the cat boy with whom sometimes he fought crime with – man that was a weird line to say out loud. He had found it hard to sleep, too tense to get lost into his dreams, questioning his decision all night long.

One night, after a particularly harsh internal battle between him himself and he, he had rolled over a little too much forgetting about his poor little cheese-eating friend. He had been on his way to apologize to the squished kwami, but with a single firm gesture coming from his tiny arm Plagg had gotten him to shut up, eyes widened and extremely pissed.

“You’re telling him.” His eyelid had twitched a little. Right, he had kept him awake as well. “I don’t care what Ladybug says, I don’t care what Tikki says, you’re telling him.”

“Huh, okay?”

“It’s not a question Adrien, it’s an order. Do it or else you won’t find Atlantis that much of a natural disaster.” Wasn’t for experience he would have doubted that this tiny guy was able of much. Good thing he did have precedents, so Adrien had opted to nod and lay down once again. Following orders was still pretty normal for him anyway. “… besides…” Plagg had scooted closer to him, nudging against his shoulder while closing his eyes. “No secret is worth taking away your happiness, kid.” Adrien had found no problem sleeping from then on.

At last, after a bit more of self-convincing, it had all come down on the matter of when. Adrien wasn’t exactly sure if the news was particularly good or bad, consequentially he had no idea if the reveal had to be organized during a joyful or tense situation. Was a date a good idea? Or was it better to simply invite him over, or go to his house and talk? Luka was a great listener, but he didn’t always like to talk much, maybe he was going to feel pressured in the second case. He communicated better with songs… but writing a jingle about how he was a superhero in a leather suit with a ring that could pulverize the Tour Eiffel didn’t sound like a hit – maybe… or maybe it was, he had to ask Luka later if the matter was going to be solved. After so much time pondering, he had been left with nothing concrete, no ideas. He couldn’t ask his friends, nor Ladybug. Maybe this was a bad decision after all – never mind Plagg that was still glaring.

He had been trying to focus on his Chinese homework all afternoon, his mind running miles with him unable to make it stop. Then his phone had lightened up, a welcomed distraction that had blossomed into absolute delight at reading the sender’s name. Despite the migraine coming along with the situation, it was all worth it just for a chance to be with him.

Melody: Hey Sunshine

Melody: If I remember right you’re free tomorrow

Melody: Do you want to come over?

Me: Of course I do :)

Me: My schedule ends early afternoon

Me: Is the evening okay?

Melody: Perfect

Melody: Dress nice, it’s a date

Melody: A special one, for a special day

Me: Why? What’s tomorrow?

Melody: Wanna guess?

Me: …

Me: Thursday?

Melody: Ahah, well also

Melody: But also exactly one year since the Music Festival

Melody: It’s the day you and I met

Somehow while melting into an absolute puddle of tears and adoring whines, Adrien had realized that this guy was too wonderful. In his heart the last thing he wanted to do was ruining something good, especially a night Luka had prepared for him. But this wasn’t about himself anymore, this was about giving him what he deserved. Hopefully they were going to have a date still after this.

Hopefully. Adrien had tried to forget about that eventuality, at least enough to finish his homework. It had taken him a while to fall asleep that night – Plagg had simply whispered “thin ice” in a very grumpy tone.

The next day he had used all his experience as a model to look his best, raised two thumbs up at his mirror, and headed out. He had begged his bodyguard to leave him alone on this one and the big guy had actually agreed, somehow seeing his seriousness and commitment more than his father – granted that the bar was pretty low on that one. The path leading to the Liberty was not exactly short from his house, yet he had felt the absolute need to rethink everything. Perhaps to find it in himself the strength to blame himself for wanting to come clean only now. It had been a year, a year since he had met Luka. He had changed so much, his thoughts, his world, himself. He was there to make just another change and take control, it was terrifying and exciting…

…

… and there he was.

When he saw the Liberty, his stomach did that fluttering again. Pure tension and longing mixed together, because this was about him and it was making him grow terrified; but this was about him, and he loved everything that involved him. The sight of the ship covered in aromatic candles and roses with the table prepared on the bridge, the most romantic place once again, should had not surprised him after all. He still had to close his eyes for a moment to recollect himself.

Luka was waiting on the dock, smiling at him. It was such a lovely view, and when he extended his hand towards him it turned into the perfect view.

“You look amazing. You’re ready?”

He was. He finally was. Adrien sighed, shaking his head.

“I have to tell you something first.” Huh, something was wrong. The guitarist had changed expression, he looked so confused and hurt all of the su- wait. “Ah! No! Not that kind of ‘I have to tell you something’, an actual ‘I have to tell you something’!” He had practiced this moment for so long, how was it possible he had never noticed how off it sounded? Luka let out a nervous laugh. Ah, his hands were sweating already, where was Chat Noir’s confidence when he needed it? “I really need to get this out of my chest.”

“Oh, okay. I’m listening.”

“And if afterwards you have doubts about…” He didn’t like it, but he needed to state it as it was. “… all of this, I’ll understand.” He was in. He was doing it. No turning back. That most likely didn’t sit right with Luka, he wasn’t looking any less distressed.

He reached for him, grabbing one of his hand for comfort. Even though he didn’t understand, he was still doing his best to be there. Gosh, Adrien loved him, so much.

“Don’t jump to conclusions, tell me what it is and then we can talk about it.” He looked for communication in his relationships, he had told him from the start and even before, during the times they used to talk about anything and everything, waiting for the sun to set behind the bridge over the Seine. The blonde hoped they were going to talk too.

He closed his eyes again, took the deepest breath in his life, and nodded.

“It might sound crazy, but please listen to me and believe me.” Luka nodded immediately. “I…” He had composed a whole speech about how much these last months had been amazing, how he was sorry that he had kept quiet over something important for so long, and how he hoped that they could still try and be together for real. A convincing discussion slowly leading to the reveal. “… I’m Chat Noir, and I love you.” Out of all of that he had taken seven words max and blurted them out without a single thought in his head.

The cat was out of the bag, classic cat superhero style. If only that knowledge wasn’t making him feel worse. He was tense, sweating, completely still, waiting for his judgement. Every second was turning into a minute then an hour then it was getting lost into his own misty head.

It was warm outside, even at that hour.

Those long fingers clenched around his hand.

Adrien looked up. Luka was smiling tearfully at him, his blue eyes were mesmerizing. He laughed happily, then he reached for his cheek. Heartbeats echoed into the blonde’s head as he got closer, eyes narrowed but still open as to catch any kind of rejection. It hit him very very slowly that this was actually true, this out of world fantasy was not a fruit of his messed up imagination, and the moment the realization took over Adrien closed the distance between them. Wow. Luka kissed nothing like he would have expected. His hand on his cheek was careful and gentle like him, but his lips were caressing his with want and passion, like they had lost all the patience behind the moment they had met in electric need. Closeness was something Adrien had missed for such a long time and could never get enough of. Luka’s closeness was whole, real, his. He reached for his jacket, just to hold onto something and have another proof that this was happening.

They parted, and then got closer, kissing again and again, happily trapped into a bubble in which time and space couldn’t reach them. When they back away with trembling breaths, Adrien felt his lips getting immediately cold and couldn’t help himself as he reached for one last peck. Luka laughed into it, pressing back then leaning his forehead over his. There was an amount of sweetness into those eyes that it made the blonde want to look away, his sight getting all blurry.

“I love you too.” His hand was still over his face. “Will you be my boyfriend?”

The answer was the clearest of his life. It was screaming from the bottom of his stomach, it was highlighted in neon in the middle of his brain. He was almost tempted to tackle him to the ground and let his actions speak for himself – alright he needed to chill for a moment –, then confusion hit him. He… he said it, he had said it, right? He told him the truth about his identity. Then what was this lack of reaction? Where was the amazement, the fright, the confusion, even the anger? Adrien Agreste had just confessed he made a habit of running over the roofs of Paris in full cat cosplay and this was the reaction?

“I… you… what’s going on?” Luka giggled, probably still caught up with the latest nice mood. Maybe he didn’t believe the blonde, maybe he didn’t hear him at all. For a musician this talented it sounded farfetched to miss a sound, but you never knew. “I’m… I’m Chat Noir, Luka.”

The guitarist blinked, smile slowly decreasing but without disappearing.

“Yeah, I heard that.”

“As the superhero, Chat Noir.”

“Yeah, I know that.”

“Then why aren’t you saying anything about that?” A little shrug. The last thing he would have expected was this nonchalance. It was maddening. “I’m a superhero, I’m Chat Noir! Why aren’t you mad? You deserved to know! You should’ve known for a…” Suddenly the guitarist’s eyes were not as easy to find as before. Like they were hiding something. “… a… while…” Again, Adrien was extremely dense emotionally, and some things were harder to understand for him. But he wasn’t stupid, most important, he couldn’t ignore that little guilty grin of his taking over. “… you knew.” The pressure that had assaulted him for the last period disappeared completely, now there was only absolute shock. “You knew I was Chat Noir?!? What in the world, since when?!?”

The guitarist passed a hand over his neck, looking a little reluctant. It was a little weird of an emotion on him, on someone so on track with himself and proud of his persona. He took his hands, gently guiding him onto the bridge. That was one relief at least.

“To be honest, I was never completely sure. If you hadn’t told me I wouldn’t have known one hundred percent… but at some point I started to have my suspicions.” He led him near the rail, the moon was mirroring into the water of the Seine. His heart soared at the view. “It was the kind of thought you pay attention to only when something comes up, so I never actively tried to prove it was real.” He sounded relaxed. Perhaps he had made peace with it for a while.

Adrien nodded absently, feeling a weird limbo between relief that he wasn’t completely recognizable and that there were at least doubts in people’s minds.

“Okay, but there has to be a time when you started to think about it.”

“… there was a moment.” Once more Luka looked guilty, while smiling still. He looked at him, raising his hands. “Again, it was a doubt, not a certainty. I never actively knew for sure you were Chat Noir, okay?” The blonde frowned but nodded. “Well… remember the Desperada incident?”

He gaped, so strongly he almost chocked.

“You have a suspicion for months?!” Luka laughed a little, that managed to calm him down a little.

“An idea, a speculation, call it what you want. It got me and I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” He leaned against the rail, looking pensive. “We were hiding in the lockers, and while I was in there I heard you opening and closing a locker… then opening and closing a door.” Holy Miraculous he was an idiot. “When I found you with Ladybug in the sewer you left, and I got the snake Miraculous. Right after that Chat Noir was back.” He grinned, eyes lightening up. “From that moment the possibility has never really left my mind, and nothing has happened that made me think it couldn’t be real.” Of course not, Adrien was never around Chat Noir and Chat Noir was never around Adrien. It almost made sense – sure, ‘almost’.

Adrien took a few deep breaths, still recovering from that sudden reveal – a confession that did not go the way he would have expected. He looked at this guy who so calmly was taking everything in, a view that was calming like very few other things and, slowly, he smiled, joining him at admiring the Seine. He let his head fall onto his shoulder, closing his eyes for a moment.

“I was so worried about this.”

“I’m sorry, I really didn’t know what to do. On one hand I didn’t want it to be true, because it made me feel anxious whenever I looked at the news and saw another dangerous akuma.” He wrapped his arm around him protectively. It felt so nice. “On the other, it was kind of an endearing thought, that the two gorgeous blondes I knew just happened to be the same person.” Gosh he was going to die, this person did not hold back with compliments with either of them.

Speaking of…

“Wait, if you were thinking about it since back then… were you teasing me on purpose whenever you talked about Chat Noir in front of me?” Whoa, he had to take in the fact that this very zen guitarist was able to make such a suggestive smile. I made his entire face burn. “Oh my gosh.”

“You were always blushing whenever I did it, I couldn’t help myself.”

“For real??”

“It was too adorable. At that point either you were really him or you found him attractive as well… which I would’ve understood.”

“Stooop!!” Adrien covered his eyes, his heart bursting out of his chest, laughing out what was left of his fear. “… you really don’t care? I’m the one who asked you out, not Chat Noir.” A bit a sadness made him step away just a little. “And people like me better when I’m not him…”

“If people aren’t into you when you’re a blonde superhero with a sexy catsuit, maybes there’s something wrong with them. I suggest blindness.” It got him to laugh. Luka brought him closer, arms around him. “Besides, there aren’t two people here. You are Adrien, and you are Chat Noir. Being a superhero is a part of you. And I love it, because it makes you… you.” Truly sincerity was his biggest quality. Adrien didn’t doubt a word that had come out of his mouth. He leaned his head into the crook of his shoulder.

“Are you sure?” Luka nodded, his hair tickling his cheek.

Then he pulled away. He put a finger under his chin, raising it up. Their eyes met. There was such a calm, comfortable world behind those blue globes. It made him want to never leave.

“You’re a rare symphony, Adrien Agreste, one that had been kept hidden for far too long. I wanna hear that song, your soul, finally free to be heard. I want to know its beauty, because the echo alone is astonishing.” He knew him. He knew all of him. “The kind and selfless to a fault, the professional and determinate model, the mischievous and enchanting superhero, these are all notes that play in your life, that make your life. And I wanna be part of that song, if you will let me.” He pressed another, shorter kiss on his lips, as to seal this moment forever into his body, forever into his heart.

There was no way Adrien would have been able to stop tears. Luka gulped. The blonde smiled, a horribly wide, unsophisticated curve that would have made all of his photographers shudder at the same time. Perhaps that was why it felt so immensely good.

“You… y-you’re not allowed to say you’re not good with words after this.”

The guitarist laughed, relieved, holding him closer.

“It’s a yes then, Sunshine?” Adrien smiled, reaching forward again, thinking that there was no imaginary world of his able to replicate this.

“It’s a yes, Melody.”

This was pure, unparalleled, wholesome reality.

#lukadrien #luka coffaine #adrien agreste #chat noir #viperion #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #ml #ml fic #ml fanfic #lukadrien june 2021 #fanfiction #fic

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the-bjd-community-confess · 4 years ago

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I’m the anon that posted the confession about not being eligible for disability and not being able to work. I think everyone pretty much missed the point of my confession entirely. There were two points I was trying to make. One was that even if something is a “luxury” you can still legitimately suffer for not being able to have things. Especially if you’re neurodivergent. Just because something isn’t a necessity, it doesn’t mean you don’t need it. You don’t “need” time to yourself, or to play/read/play music, because all you need to survive is to sleep and eat pretty much and to do those things you need to work. But you would probably go insane. Sometimes luxury items are that thing keeping you from going insane, or in my case, they drive you insane until you do something to stop thinking about them. If I hyperfixate on something, keeping me from it will cause severe anxiety and depression. Your quality of life goes down when you’re stuck with the bare minimum and it’s out of your control.

A lot of disabled people know this because disabled people are often affected by forced poverty, and when people basically tell you to “suck it up” or “work harder” when you’re literally doing everything you can it makes you feel like you’re not human or worth anything. (Also, side note: fuck you if you’re also disabled but you look down on other disabled people because you “pushed through” and you are able to have and do everything you want because you “work for it”. Other people are not just babies who aren’t trying. Not everyone’s situation is the same and it’s super ableist to act like other disabled people are just looking for handouts and sympathy because you were able to achieve what they couldn’t despite your own disability.)

The other point I was making was that people need to be more understanding of other people in general. It wasn’t some prorecast justification (though that seems to be all you people took from it). I’m not pro-recast, I don’t own any recasts. The two dolls I mentioned are ResinSoul dolls which are nice but not what I really wanted though I do love them and it still depresses me to know that I won’t ever be able to afford the dolls I want even secondhand. I wasn’t justifying recasts or purchasing them. I was JUST SAYING that when people say that they wish they could get a recast (or they want one but they can’t do it because it’s wrong or they’re unsure ) or they complain about how everyone jacks prices way up second hand so that only super rich people can get dolls, or they’re just complaining that companies prices are just so high there are reasons why they might not be able to just “save up” or move on and telling people that they should do that or settle on a doll they don’t even want is shitty.

I’m not excusing people who buy recasts, I’m just saying that you could take a second and put yourself in someone else’s shoes and see why it’s a struggle for them, or that it’s valid that your life really is worse when you can’t ever have what you really want. Also, I thought I was clear, but obviously I wasn’t: it would take me several years to save up for ONE doll. No wig, no clothes, no eyes, nothing else. And the only way to expedite that process is by not buying clothing, paying bills, or buying any item that I need that isn’t food. I don’t eat out, I don’t go to the movies, and I don’t shop for random stuff I don’t need. Some people just don’t have money and cannot get a job at all or for a long period of time. I don’t know why you don’t understand that. And no, I can’t just “try harder” to get disability aid. I. Don’t. Qualify. In the eyes of the government I am not disabled and even if I had a visible disability, living with my family would likely disqualify me.

I don’t know where you get off acting like you know more about my life than I do, it only goes more to prove my point of just checking your privilege. I, too, have judged other disabled people until I realized that not everyone has the same disability or circumstances. So just remember that everyone has different circumstances and we’re not playing “oppression olympics” or whatever that even means. People deserve to be believed when they tell you they can’t do something or don’t have access to something.

~Anonymous

#BJD #ABJD #BJD Confessions #TrueBJDCounterfeits #Health #Finances

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skywalkerstyles · 4 years ago

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Skin (Bakugou x OC!Reader insert)

Warnings: kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, quirkless AU, criminal Bakugou, robbery, hostage situation, anxiety, mysophobia

Summary: Katsuki Bakugou is a killer, hell bent on revenge. Hikaru Moshimoto is a college student with a dark and cloudy past. When Hikaru is taken hostage and forced to work with Bakugou in order to survive, will the be able to get passed their differences, and see the people behind the scars? A stalker seeks to finish something Hikaru started a long time ago. When they come head to head, will Bakugou protect her? Or will he add another victim to his list?

Hikaru Moshimato felt sick when she woke up that chilly september morning. Monday, September fifteenth to be exact. It was a day she would never forget or get over. It changed the course of her life forever.

It started out like any other morning, she got up, got dressed, had breakfast, fed her little cat Yoshi and headed out the door on her way to work. But there was a presence, it was dark and gloomy, and hung over her like a shadow. Something was coming, and she wasn't ready for it. At all.

She pulled up to the little gas station by her job, it had a little convenience store attached, a place she could grab snacks and drinks before work, the vending machines there were usually way overpriced, so it was easier to just bring food with her. She got out of her car, locking the doors as she held her wallet close to her chest, tucked her head down and walked inside.

She sighed, upon stepping into the cool air conditioned building, and instead of walking up to the counter and just paying for her gas she eyed the slushie station. She loved slushies, and she could never pass one up. She smiled to herself thinking, fuck it, and strolled over to the slushie machine. There was a man standing to the side of the machine, where the fridges held the drinks, he had a Redbull in one hand and a smartwater in the other. He wore an unbuttoned, navy blue flannel with a black t shirt and grease stained blue jeans. His eyes were covered by dark sunglasses and his hair was covered by a blue and white striped baseball cap. Hikaru was hyper aware of his presence, making sure to keep aware of her surroundings. She didn’t like the vibe she was getting from this guy. He scared her. Seemed like trouble.

But if he noticed her presence, he didn't show any signs of it.

So Hikaru relaxed her shoulders, shaking her head and began to ponder the flavor she’d get today. Hikaru had never been one for conversation anyway. She always kept to herself, due to some social anxieties and quirks she had, that made her ‘unapproachable’ as her mother had put it. But if you had a doctor mother who abused prescription medication and neglected you after your father’s death, you might have some fucked up issues too.

Which is why she found it strange when she felt the man’s presence shift, he’d come closer to her, and she could feel him staring. She kept her eyes down, feeling her cheeks heat up as she pulled a cup from the slot and got ready to pour her syrupy drink into it.

"What's your favorite flavour?" He asked suddenly, and the deep rough voice startled her. She twitched and peek at him curiously through her hair, that thankfully, covered most of her face.

"Coke." she answered meekly. The man cracked a smile, his teeth were perfect and bright. It was almost, alluring. Definitely charming.

“Really?” he asked, reaching out and taking the cup from her. She didn’t have time to react, before he plucked it from her hands and filled it with the drink of her choice. “I like blue raspberry best….sometimes cherry’s good too.” He handed her the drink and she took it hesitantly. He chuckled at her demeanor, cocking his head to the side, that ridiculously handsome smile still plastered to his face.

“Thank you.” she managed after a moment, she placed a lid on her drink and grabbed a straw.

“No problem,” he replied, following her as she turned towards the cashier. She can feel the panic and the nerves rising within her. Why was he following her? As they stood in line, waiting for the other customers to leave, she could feel the man change, his whole demeanor took on a darker, more serious tone. She curled in on herself, hoping he wouldn’t try and follow her to her car. Hikaru hadn’t always been this way. Afraid of germs, afraid of touch….Basic human contact. No. If you looked at her high school yearbook, you wouldn’t even think it was the same person. She used to be bright, and outgoing, willing to chat it up with just about anybody, a regular teenage girl. Until Amano. And...Hina... She shook her head, trying to focus on the task at hand, get the drink. Get the gas. Go to work. She took a deep breath, she would complete her goals today.

“Hi! How are you today?” a cheery red head smiled at Hikaru, she tried to smile back, and return the enthusiasm, but the feeling of dread was starting to creep back up on her and she couldn’t shake it off.

“I’m fine thank you. Ten dollars on pump-”

“Shut up.” Hikaru feels a strong hand wrap around her upper arm and tug her back, she looked up to see the man who had been by the slurpee machine, pulling her towards him, a pistol in his hand, pointed right at the cashier. Hikaru squeaked as the man pulls her into him, jabbing the gun into her side. “Give me all the money in the register, or you, and her die. Now!” Hikaru flinches at the last word, which he snarled at the cashier. She had her hands up, tears streaming down her face. “Move.” he ordered. The cashier slammed a metal grate down and an alarm began to sound. The man held onto Hikaru even harder, yanking her around as he turned to find an exit. “Fuck!” he exclaimed. Hikaru shifted, trying to wriggle free. He pulled her closer, he was big and intimidating. He reminded her of Amano. “You’re not going anywhere.” he said. “I need you. Come on.”

Panic began to rise within Hikaru, she could feel her breath growing more ragged by the minute, all the things she needed to get done shooting through her head. The man dragged her towards the back of the store and into the warehouse, once inside, he shut and locked the door, shoving her from him and holding the gun to her. Surprisingly, the slushie hasn’t spilled. “Don’t move.” he said coldly. A sob escaped her throat, the bubble was rising, she could feel the panic getting ready to burst.

“P-Please,” she rasped, her throat was closing, she couldn’t breathe.“I-I have money.”

“I don’t want your money. We need to get out of here.” Hikaru looked at him confused.

“W-we?” the man grabbed her again, yanking her towards the back of the warehouse.

“Yeah. We. You’re my hostage,” fear filled her as the man’s lips curled into a confident smirk. He pulled a set of handcuffs from his pocket and yanked her forward, cuffing her. “Don’t struggle. And you live.” She was about to faint. The alarm was blaring, but through the sound Hikaru could hear the doors bursting open. The same doors she had walked into only minutes ago, it seemed like hours now. The man cursed again, kicking the back exit door open and shoving her through.

________________

They hid behind a dumpster, he peaked out, looking around to see cops, flooding into the gas station, Hikaru shifted uncomfortably, the cuffs were tight on her wrists, digging into her skin. He didn’t seem to notice. “A-are you a criminal?” she asked. He didn’t even turn to look at her, inching forward slowly, his hand still gripping her tightly.

"Yeah."that was it. No explanation. Just a straight no bull answer. As the cops go into the front of the store, the man gripped her tightly and yanked her towards an older Astro van. Hikaru pondered why no cops were looking over towards them, how no one could see he was taking her. But it would be just her luck. He threw the passenger door open, shoving her inside, before running around to the otherside and climbing in. The door shut with a slam and he pealed out and away, the cops just noticing as you leave the gas station. The sweet and tasty slushie, left on the floor of the warehouse.

____________

The van was loud. It sent deep rumbles of vibration all the way down to Hikaru’s bones. Like a massage after the chaos back at the gas station. Her hands are still bound but the man had finally stowed the gun. There was no handle on the inside of the passenger door. She was stuck and she stayed quiet. Out of fear. The man drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, listening to a song on the radio. The silence wasn’t tense, but it wasn’t comfortable either. "Are you going to kill me?" she asked softly, so low he might not even hear her. He stopped drumming and turned to look at her for the first time since he’d taken her.

"Wasn't planning on it." He replied. “I just needed some cash….but damn that cashier was quick on her feet. Taking you was the only way I would have gotten out of there alive.”

“W-why do you say that?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her. He cocked his eyebrow, finally taking off his glasses, his eyes were a deep blood red.

“You...You don’t watch tv do you ?” she shook her head. The news gave her anxiety. The only time she left her dorm was for class or work. Necessities. She kept to herself. He chuckled and shook his head as he turned on his turn signal.

“Why do you ask?” she asked a bit louder. She watched his adam’s apple bob and his eyes scan the road, searching for the right answer.

“I uh, I’m in a business most don’t agree with.” he said.

She decided to push a little further, “what do you do?”

“I’m...I’ve killed people.” he said it solemnly. Like he wasn’t proud of it, but he had to do it. Hikaru feels the panic begin to rise again. He cleared his throat. “What’s your name?” he asked, changing the subject.

“M-my…..it’s Hikaru.” she said, wishing she sounded braver than she felt. “Hikaru Moshimoto.”

“I’m Bakugou, Bakugou Katsuki.” he responded, “You know, you’re the first person I’ve met in a long time who didn’t know who I am.” he sighed, clicking his tongue, “You’re a weird girl.”

“Says the man who just admitted to murder being his occupation.” he laughed, shaking his head. She didn’t want to admit it, but she liked his laugh.

“Yeah, maybe we’re both just weird.” He paused and then said carefully, "I won’t hurt you."the tone of his voice is softer, calmer, and surprisingly soothing "Unless you make me." He added with emphasize on ‘make’.

“H-How many…” Hikaru trailed off, unable to finish her question. It was strange, she could never talk and be this open with just anybody. She usually just kept quiet, and stayed in her lane. She wasn’t the type of person to make waves. Not since before…..

“How many people have I killed?” Bakugou finished for her. She nodded, glad to have been pulled back from the darkness of her thoughts. He can tell that she’s got something going on. She looked so small and fragile. Like the china plates his mom used to collect. He really didn’t want to hurt her, and silently prayed he’d never have to. He bit his lip, trying to think of the right answer, “If I had to count….possibly sixty.” Hikaru’s mouth fell open in shock.

“Oh my….” she instinctively moved further from him. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of rejection. She focused on her shoes, on the scuffs and the threads in the laces, anything to keep her from going crazy. They sat in silence for a long while. Bakugou began to twitch as it stretched, it was slight, barely noticeable. Except she saw it. "So where are you taking me?" Hikaru asked awkwardly, eyes darting to his before looking ahead again

“I’m taking you to my family. You’re my hostage for now, but they’ll decide if you know too much or have seen too much.” Hikaru swallowed hard, wondering what that could possibly mean. He must have sensed her worry, because he reached out, only to pull his hand back when she flinched, with a sigh. “Just don’t worry….You seem harmless enough.”

“Can you take the cuffs off? Please? They hurt.” Bakugou pulls off onto the side of the road.

"Don't try anything, okay? I have a gun." Bakugou met her eyes as he shut off the van and turned to her, he looked down to her hands. He quickly unlocked the cuffs and sat back. She rubbed her swollen wrists and he started the car back up.

“Are you scared?” he asked after a while. Hikaru looked up at him again. She noticed he had freckles, they were light and scattered across his cheeks...He’d be a good subject to draw.

“I….” she bit her lip, unsure of how to proceed, “I’m terrified…..I know that mentally….But I guess I’ve shut down. I don’t really feeling anything.”

“Why?” he asked, suddenly curious. Did he want her to be afraid.

“I’ve been in….I’ve been in a lot worse situations,” he scoffed at that, disbelievingly.

“You’re my hostage. I had you at gunpoint. I’m kidnapping you and you’ve been in worse situations?” she smiles at how ludicrous it sounds.

“It does sound crazy but….I don’t know. I have a lot of anxiety disorders and I’ve been struggling with depression so I….maybe this was too much and my body is protecting itself.” he pursed his lips together.

“How old are you?”

“22.”

Shit. He thought. She’s just a kid. “I’m sorry it had to be you.” she gave him a questioning look. “In the store. If you hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have taken you.” she nodded, not quite accepting his apology, but understanding, that he knew, she had been through some shit.

“I haven’t…..I haven’t left this town my entire life.” she said quietly, changing the subject. Bakugou picked up her switch in demeanor and followed it, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yeah?” she tried to smile, it was small and tight, but she could feel the uneasiness begin to grow again.

“Yeah….where is your family?”

“You’ll see,” he said, flashing her a grin. “You’ll like it better than this dump.” he snorted as they passed the ‘Leaving Town’ sign.

“Why did you come here?” she asked before she could stop herself.

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.” she nodded, sinking back into her seat. Bakugou cleared his throat and turned the radio back up. “Better settle in. We got a long drive…..what kind of music do you like?”

________

He shut the door behind him. The dorm room was quiet and he couldn’t feel her presence as he looked around. Everything was in it’s rightful place, meticulous and germ freak as ever. He missed her so much. He walked over to Hikaru’s desk and lifted the sketchbook that sat open on it, he touched the lines of the person she drew, imagining the way she drew it, the way her hands moved. His heart was racing. It was 4pm and she should have been home now. She didn’t have any friends.

Where was she?

Where was the girl he’d been searching for for so long?

He was dying to see her again…….

#bakugou x reader #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x you #bakugou x oc #bakugou bnha #bnha #bakugou imagine #bakugou one shot #bakugou fanfiction #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha bakugou #my hero academia fanfiction #my hero academia fanfic #my hero academia one shot #my hero academia imagine

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imaginationintowords · 5 years ago

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Folklore [song series]

cardigan

Modern Day AU! Bucky Barnes x OC!Reader; Steve Rogers x OC!Reader

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album Folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years.

Word Count: 11672

Warnings: swearing, sexual innuendos, underage drinking

[a/n: sorry it took me awhile to get this part out. But to make up for it this one is a long one! Sorry if it’s a little confusing, I know there’s a lot to it, so I hope it’s easy to follow. Also if you would like to be tagged, just let me know]

Previous Part

Series Masterlist

Age: 19 Year: 2013 Location(s): Stanford, CA & Brooklyn, NY Elizabeth was spending her Friday afternoon packing up the last bit of her things that would be shipped back to Brooklyn tomorrow. She planned it so that if they were shipped tomorrow, they would arrive back home two days after she got there. Enough time for her to unpack the stuff she was taking with her on her flight in a couple of days. Elizabeth had successfully completed her first year of college at the University of Stanford. It was the best year of her life. "Hey Liz!" Her roommate, Wanda greeted her. Last summer, Elizabeth received an email from the school telling her who her dorm mate would be, along with the girl's email address. Wanda Maximoff was originally from Sokovia, but she and her family moved to Boston when she was 8 years-old. Both girls instantly clicked. That summer they were constantly in communication with each other. They both went over their excitement and fears of moving across the country. Wanda, like Elizabeth, had never been away from her family for so long, especially her twin brother. They both eased each other's minds, knowing they weren't alone in this journey. Up until her senior year Elizabeth had every intention of not being alone going into college, but in the end that wasn't the case. Steve ended up going to Berkley, and Bucky ended up at NYU. When they finally both moved into their dorm, it was like they had been life long friends. Wanda was pre-med while Elizabeth was pre-law, so they both knew that one another would take priority in their education over partying. Didn't mean they didn't go out to the occasional party, they both just knew the sacrifices their families were making for them to be at an out of state university. "Hey Wand, what's up?" Elizabeth smiled, while continuing to pack. "Are you going to the party at Loki's house?" Loki Odinson was a junior. He was a legacy student, both his parents were Stanford University alumni. They had a house that was only 15 minutes away from campus, Loki and his friends lived there during the semester, before they all fled back to Los Angeles for the summer.

Even though he was rich beyond means, he wasn't a jerk. He was friendly to everyone around him. Everyone wanted to be his friend, and he wouldn't say no to that. When Elizabeth first met him she thought he was flirting with her, and she kind of welcomed the idea of dating someone like him. But she later found out that Loki wasn't into her, or any other females for that matter. He had a long term boyfriend who was going to USC, they took turns visiting each other every weekend. Normally the weekends Loki wasn't having a party were the ones his boyfriend was visiting. Loki was also a law student, so he helped Elizabeth whenever she needed it. He hosted a weekly meeting in the library for freshman students who were law students, it was a way to help them navigate their first year and the stressors that came with it. He was like their big brother. Elizabeth owes a lot to him this year, because she wasn't sure how she would've made it alive without him. "Yeah, I was planning on it," Elizabeth said taping up the final box for the night, "Last party of the school year. Did you want to go together?" "Yes, please," Wanda said, throwing herself onto her bed. Wanda's side of the room was semi-packed up. Her family was flying in the day Elizabeth was flying out. They were renting a RV and taking a road trip across country. Wanda leaned on her elbow facing Elizabeth, and looking around the room, "Wow, you're almost done packing!" "Yup," she said, getting off of the floor and pressing the palms of her hands to her back to let out the cracks from sitting on the floor for a long period of time, "Movers are picking up my things tomorrow to ship back home. The last things I need to pack our the rest of my clothes I have left, but those are all going in my suitcase to take on the flight with me." "Can't wait til the fall where we don't have to be stuck in these dorms," Wanda stretched out on her tiny bed. Wanda and Elizabeth were planning on getting an apartment next semester at one of the student housing apartment complexes next to the campus. As much as they enjoyed the dorms, having their own privacy would be so much better. Without the constant interruptions from other people on their floor, or from having to share a bathroom with the whole floor. It will be nice to have their own space. They both took on little jobs on campus during the school year, and had planned to also work the entire summer to save up some money. Their parents had agreed to help with the rent, as long as both Wanda and Elizabeth kept up a 3.7 GPA and had jobs to pay for the necessities they would be needing. It was a great deal that they couldn't pass on. "What are you going to wear tonight?" Elizabeth asked Wanda, as she stood in front of her small closet, which now was only half filled. "My lucky red dress," Wanda smiled, "Rumor has it Loki's older brother Thor will be there tonight." Thor was Loki's older brother. He was a senior at Berkley, which was only about an hour drive away. Thor was an Environmental studies major, who was also the captain of the Cal Bears Field Hockey team. He was the complete opposite of Loki when it came to their looks, and taste in genders. He was a bit taller than Loki, had a ton more muscles, long blonde hair, and the times Elizabeth and Wanda had seen him, he had a full grown beard. He looked very intimidating at first glance, but he was actually just a giant bear. Like Loki, he just wanted to be everyone's friend, and just wanted to make sure everyone around him was having a good time. They were clearly both raised by the same parents. Elizabeth laughed out loud, "Wanda, please tell me you're not planning on trying to hook up with him tonight." "Duh, hence my lucky red dress," Wanda got out of bed and grabbed the red dress hanging from her closet, "This dress is magic, okay. It hasn't failed me yet." Wanda's red dress became her "lucky red dress" after she aced her first exam, and hooked up with a cute sophomore she had been eyeing, all on the same day. Whenever she needed luck on her side, she wore the dress. During finals she wore it the entire week, washing it in between each day, they wouldn't be getting their results back for a few more days, but Wanda knew she had done well. Elizabeth didn't bother to try and belittle the lucky dress, because even she might have worn it a few times and had gotten good results. "Plus, seeing as Thor is graduating next week it might be the last time I see him, so go big or go home," Wanda smiled proudly.

_______________________

A few hours later Wanda and Elizabeth found themselves walking up to Loki's house. At night the house might've reminded those in passing of a fraternity house, but in the daylight it was completely not. The yard was always perfectly manicured. The exterior reminded Elizabeth of a house in the Hamptons, while the interior was something straight out of a interior design magazine. It was definitely not a house made for college aged boys.

Wanda was dressed in her lucky red dress, with a pair of black booties, and a leather jacket. Her hair was in loose curls falling down her back. She kept her makeup light, aside from the dark red lip she had on.

Elizabeth was a bit more casual with some ripped at the knee black jeans, a loose grey t-shirt, and a suede burgundy moto jacket. She had straightened her curls that night, but since the weather was getting warmer she put it up in a messy ponytail. Her makeup was a very bare minimum, just some mascara and a nudish pink lipstick that practically matched her lips. She didn't come tonight for a hookup, she just came to spend time with these new friends she made before she headed back home for the summer.

As soon as they walked into the crowded house, they immediately headed to the bar area to grab something to drink.

"Do you see Thor?" Wanda asked Elizabeth as they received their drinks from the bar tender, who Loki paid for the night a lot to overlook the underage drinking.

"No," Elizabeth said speaking a little louder because of the music, "If he were here, I'm sure we would spot him right away. Man is built like a god."

"Damn right he is," Wanda smirked taking a sip from her drink.

Elizabeth let out a laugh at her friend's comment, before going back to scanning the room.

"Let's go out back," she shouted, grabbing Wanda's hand.

They weaved through the loud crowded makeshift dance floor that was the living room.

Once outside they could hear the cheering sounds of a game of beer pong going on.

"Hey girls!" They turned their heads to find Loki walking up to them.

"Hey Loki, no Scott this weekend?" Elizabeth asked, noticing he was sans his boyfriend.

"No, he had to study for finals, he's coming up next week for Thor's graduation though," he says, hugging both girls.

"Speaking of which, where is that brother of your's?" Wanda tried to nonchalantly ask.

"I see you're wearing your lucky red dress," Loki remarks ignoring her question, he had a smirk on his face, knowing exactly what Wanda was up to.

"Oh, am I, I didn't even realize it," she played along, sending him a wink.

"He'll be he-" Loki was immediately cut off by a loud booming voice making it's way through the house and towards the back, "Mention and he shall appear."

The girls peered over their shoulder to see Thor walking in with a group of guys following him. Some of them Elizabeth recognized as his friends from Berkeley.

"Brother," Thor shouts, rushing his way towards Loki, throwing his arms around his younger brother in a bone crushing hug. You'd think they haven't seen each other in months, but they actually saw each other a couple a times a week for dinner.

Elizabeth found it cute the way they were really close. She never had any siblings, she always wanted some but her parents had only wanted one kid. She knew if she had a sibling she would want the same relationship Thor and Loki had.

"Ladies," Thor greets Wanda and Elizabeth, as he finally releases his brother.

"Hi," Elizabeth waved.

"Wanda, nice dress," Thor said throwing his arm over the small red head.

"Oh this old thing," she smiled, as he lead her towards the beer pong table.

"That damn dress," Loki laughed.

"It's lucky for a reason," Elizabeth laughed shaking her head.

"Elizabeth?" Elizabeth turned around thinking she heard her name called but she shrugged it off thinking it was just Wanda from up ahead.

"Elizabeth? Betty?" At the mention of her old nickname she froze, and instantly turned back around to come into eye contact with none other Steve Rogers.

"Steve!?" She exclaimed, completely taken back by seeing him here in the flesh.

He looked a bit different. He definitely had bulked up since the last time she saw him at their high school graduation.

"Oh my gosh, it is you," he shakes his head in disbelief before hugging her.

"Woah, you're huge," she remarked wrapping her hands around him.

"Berkley has a nice student gym," he remarks as they pull apart from each other, still taking each other in.

It felt like they were both looking at strangers. Yes, they still basically looked the same, but there was something different about both of them. Something more mature. Here are two young adults who had spent their childhood and teenage years together, looking at each other in complete amazement.

They hadn't spend much of senior year together. After giving Bucky his letter, Elizabeth had went over to Steve's to apologize in person. He welcomed her with open arms, but there was still something a bit off. What happened between their little group had changed them forever. Their friendship would never be the same again. And maybe that was for the better, Elizabeth had thought at the time.

Now as they stand in front of each other taking it all in, they hadn't realized how much they had missed each other. Missed home.

Loki clears his throat behind them, signaling he was still there.

"Oh, Loki," Elizabeth glanced behind, "this is Steve, we grew up together. Steve this is Loki."

"Hey," Steve reached his hand over for Loki to take, "Thor has told many stories about you."

"God, of course he has," Loki took his hand and rolled his eyes, "I'm sure they were all at my expense."

Elizabeth caught Loki subtly checking Steve out, causing a small blush to form on her cheeks. Guess she wasn't the only one taken by his new stature.

"They weren't all bad," Steve laughed.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'll leave you two to catch up, I have a red dress to see in action," he says before walking away.

"Red dress?" Steve asked confused.

"It's nothing," she shook her head, realizing the amount of inside jokes she's made that no longer include him.

"So how have you been?" She asks him, as she leads him to a secluded part of the backyard where the music wasn't so loud.

"Good," he smiles one of his famous bright smiles, "Just been busy. You know freshman year not as easy as I had thought it would be."

"You're telling me," she laughs, "I'm glad I encountered Loki because he's been a massive help."

"Are you guys..." he starts to imply.

"Oh no," she quickly interrupts, "Let's just say Loki would be way more into you than me."

"Ah I get the picture," he lets out a loud laugh.

They didn't realize how much time had gone by, before Loki comes running up to them.

"IT WORKED!" He yelled, slightly slurring his words, "That damn red dress is fucking magic."

"Of course it is," Elizabeth smiled, watching Loki shake his head and make his way back to the party.

"What is this red dress?"

"My roommate Wanda, she has this red dress, and it's sorta became a lucky red dress throughout the year. It's magical," she says, but then something comes over herself, causing her to correct herself.

"It's nothing. It's just silliness. I'm sure it's not really magic," she shakes her head, and the idea of still believing in magic.

"Hey, don't do that," he places his hand softly on top of hers that was laid in between them on the bench they were sat at, "If you say it's magic, I believe it. There's nothing wrong with having a little magic in your life. Lord knows I believe, reason I won't use any other pencil when taking my final."

"Ahh Steve Rogers has a lucky pencil?" She playfully mocks.

"Steve Rogers has more than one lucky pencil," he laughs, "I have one for my written finals, and one I use for my drawings."

"Ah your drawings," she beamed, "They were always my favorite. I was so happy for you when I heard you decided to pursue something that allows you to still put your powers into use."

"My powers?" He asked, with a smile on his face.

"Yeah, your drawings were always so powerful," She beamed at him, "You knew how to bring whatever you were drawing to life. Your Brooklyn bridge drawing is still hands down one of my favorites."

"And between us," she lowers her voice, causing both of them to move their heads closer to each other, "It's my lucky totem."

"What? You still have it?" He quietly asked in disbelief.

The drawing was years old. He had drawn it one day during homeroom when they were 14, he didn't like how it came out but Elizabeth wouldn't let him toss it. She ended up taking it from him, to make sure he didn't throw it away. She had told him that one day he's going to want to look back on it and see how far he's come, even though she was positive he couldn't possibly get any better than he already was.

"I always keep it folded up in my pocket when I take a test," she confesses, "Have been since that day four years ago. It's my lucky drawing."

Steve stared at Elizabeth in awe. He didn't know what to say, he had just assumed she had lost it. But hearing that it was her lucky charm made his heartbeat quicken. For the first time in his life he wasn't seeing little innocent Betty, he was seeing Elizabeth. A beautiful, confident, mature young woman. She really blossomed here in college. He had never seen her so happy, so at peace. She was absolutely glowing.

He could feel his hands getting clammy, and his throat getting dry. He caught himself glance down at her lips and then back at her eyes. He tried to swallow the lump down his throat.

"Liz!" He heard someone yell in the background, causing both of them to snap out of their gaze.

They looked over to find Loki, once again. Slightly more drunk than last time.

"She's fucking my brother!" He exclaims in horror, "In my fucking room!"

Elizabeth laughs quietly and shakes her head.

"I better go make sure Loki doesn't drink himself from the horror of it all," she tells Steve, as they both get up.

"Wouldn't want that happening," he says, feeling his cheeks heat up.

"No, I'm going to need him next year," she smiles before walking away.

Elizabeth stopped and turned around, "Hey Steve, when are you flying back home?"

"Sunday morning at 8am, you?"

"Same. Where you flying from?"

"San Francisco International," he tells her.

"Well look at that, we're on the same flight home. Guess I'll see you Sunday morning," she smiled waving good bye.

"See you Sunday," he waved back, a big grin on his face.

After she was gone, Steve was left alone to his thoughts. His mind was racing with so many different thoughts. Was he really thinking about kissing Elizabeth? Bucky's Elizabeth. I mean she technically wasn't Bucky's Elizabeth anymore, but still as Bucky's best friend he shouldn't be having those thoughts of kissing his ex-girlfriend and first love. Hell Bucky was still in love with Elizabeth.

After Bucky had received that letter from Elizabeth, it kind of gave him hope for the future. He had told Steve that he wasn't going to give up on them getting back together. Steve was finding himself hoping that maybe Bucky had moved on from that idea. Maybe being at college has matured him the way it did for him and Elizabeth.

He glanced back at the house to catch Elizabeth pulling a shot away from a drunk Loki, as she tried to make sure he wouldn't cause any harm to himself.

Bucky was an idiot for screwing that up, he found himself thinking.

___________________

Elizabeth spent Saturday finishing up any last minute packing, before the movers arrived to pick up what was being shipped back. She also spent the afternoon hearing all about Wanda's wild night with Thor. Apparently Thor had such a great time he even invited her to his graduation, and she gladly accepted. Elizabeth smiled as her friend continued to talk about Thor, she noticed the way Wanda's eyes lit up. Her friend was falling in love and she didn't even notice.

She and Wanda had a final dinner that night. They had planned on meeting up later in the summer, to discuss apartment details, and see where each other grew up from.

Elizabeth was finding herself wishing for Sundays approach. Not because she was ready to go home, but she wanted to talk more with Steve. When Wanda asked what happened between them Saturday night, Elizabeth told her the truth. Nothing happened. It was simply just two old friends catching up. Wanda didn't believe her, but dropped the subject.

Steve really had grown up since last year. And not just his physical attributes. Elizabeth found herself loving hearing Steve talk all about what was going on with school. And especially when he talked about architecture. He even pointed out things that he would do to make Loki's house a lot nicer. She had never seen Steve so animated before. It really had her thinking if she even truly knew Steve.

They had spent most of their whole lives together, but when she thought back on it, it was never really just them two. It was always her, Bucky, and Steve. And when Bucky wasn't around it was in student council with other classmates around. She and Steve probably hadn't spent time together since they were children. Last night was the first time where they actually had a long conversation, with just them two. A real conversation about their dreams, and not the silly kind you have when you're seven, but the kind where you're actually making them come true.

It also had her thinking back to the moment when she revealed about keeping Steve's drawing of the Brooklyn bridge. It was such an intimate moment when she thinks back to it. While in the moment she was so drawn to him, like a magnet pulling them towards each other. Elizabeth would be lying if she said she didn't find Steve attractive, because anyone with eyes could see that. And she definitely would be lying if she said she hadn't wanted to kiss him.

Because Elizabeth Sanchez really wanted to kiss Steve Rogers last night.

What a mess that would've made. Kissing her ex-boyfriend's best friend. Her former best friend.

But then again, she and Bucky weren't together. They hadn't even talked since she left, and that conversation was a brief one. Bucky had stopped by to say bye and to let Elizabeth know he really appreciated the letter he sent her earlier in the year, and Elizabeth just explained she didn't want any negative feelings following her to college. She wished him well, and gave him a kiss on the cheek before she left.

Wanda walked into their room cutting Elizabeth's thoughts short.

"Ready?" Wanda asked, "Loki is waiting for us downstairs."

"Yup, let's go," Elizabeth said, she grabbed her carry on bag, one suitcase, while Wanda helped with the other one.

"Here we are," Loki says pulling in front of the drop off area at the airport.

"Thanks for the ride and everything this year," Elizabeth leaned over to give Loki a hug over the center console.

"Anytime kid, just make sure you come back to me," he winked, before getting out of the car to grab Elizabeth's bags from the trunk.

Elizabeth and Wanda hugged each other tightly once out of the car.

"It's not an official goodbye, we'll see each other sooner than we think," Elizabeth said into Wanda's hair.

"I know, I just got so used to having you around, what if I do something stupid?"

"I mean lets be real, you would do something stupid whether I'm there or not," she laughed.

"That's true," Wanda laughed along, pulling away from Elizabeth, "see you in a few weeks."

Elizabeth grabbed her things from Loki, and gave the group one final hug, "Love you guys," she said before walking away.

She turned around and gave them one final wave as they drove off.

Elizabeth checked in her bags and headed for her terminal.

Walking up to where her gate was she noticed a familiar blonde head waiting patiently.

"Hey stranger," she walked up to him.

"Hey," he smiled brightly, causing butterflies to flutter in Elizabeth's stomach.

She tried her hardest to ignore the feeling.

"I got you a coffee, it's still hot, I just got here not too long ago," Steve rambled, handing her a Starbucks cup.

"Ah you're a lifesaver, thank you," she smiled sitting down next to Steve, and taking a sip of her coffee.

Just how I like it, she thought.

"Ready to go back home?" He asked her.

"Yes, as much as I loved being here, I miss my bed," she laughed.

"Right," he agreed, "I can't wait to just crash for a few hours."

"I'm sure your mom is getting it all set up for you as we speak."

"Oh, yeah. She just texted me saying she's washing it as we speak," he laughed.

"How is your mom doing?"

"Good. She and dad actually just spent a month traveling around Europe," he tells her, "they finally had an 'empty nest' to do what they've always wanted to do."

"That sounds nice," Elizabeth smiles at the thought, "I hope to have that one day."

"Have you talked to Bucky lately?" Steve asked, taking not only Elizabeth by surprise but himself as well. He had no idea why he even asked that.

"Uh, no, not since I left last summer," she awkwardly said, scratching the back of her neck.

"Have you?" She asked.

Elizabeth didn't know why she asked Steve that question back. Part of her was curious, the other part was saving him from the embarrassment.

"Uh, yeah. Last night," he copied Elizabeth and rubbed the back of his head, "I was reminding him what time my plane landed. He's picking my up from the airport."

"He's been back home for a week now. Perks of going to school in New York."

"Yeah, I bet. No stress about if you're stuff will get lost on it's journey back," she joked, trying to break the awkward tension.

"So Thor told me he invited Wanda to his graduation," Steve changes the subject.

"Yeah! Her parents are flying in the next day, so she's probably going to go," she tell him, "How did you and Thor become friends?"

Elizabeth had been curious how that friendship started since Thor and Steve are not exactly on the same wavelength.

"Met him at the student gym," Steve laughs, "He saw me struggling and offered to help train me."

"As that's cute," she poked his bicep.

"Oh yeah, totally not embarrassing at all," he laughed along, "I was like a newborn deer learning how to walk."

"Well it paid off," she playfully nudged him, causing him to hide the blush forming on his cheeks.

Steve and Elizabeth continued to chat for the next hour, until it was time to board the plane. On the plane they wen their separate ways, they weren't so lucky to be seated close to one another.

Once they landed it was nearly five o'clock at night. They walked off the plane separately as well, once again like strangers.

Elizabeth would be lying if she said she wasn't rushing off in hopes of not running into Bucky. She knew she wouldn't be able to avoid him, she just dind't want to see him right here, right now.

She quickly made her way to baggage claim, where she was greeted by a familiar pair of eyes.

"Dad," she smiled throwing her arms around his neck.

"Elizabeth," he hugged his child tightly, "Welcome home sweetie,"

"Happy to be back," she smiled, pulling away. She caught his eye looking at something or someone behind her.

"Woah, is that Steve Rogers?" He asked.

She turned around to see Steve walking towards them, with is own carry on bags in hand.

"Steve," her father greeted him with his hand stood out.

"Mr. Sanchez, hi," Steve smiled shaking the older gentleman's hand.

"College treated you well," her father remarked.

"Dad," Elizabeth hissed, feeling her cheeks heat up at his comment.

"What? It's just an observation. I"m sure I'm not the only one who noticed," he gestured over to where two young girls are ogling Steve and giggling behind their hands.

"Thanks Mr. Sanchez," Steve blushed.

"Do you need a ride home?" Her dad offered.

"No, sir. Thank-you though," Steve politely declines, "Bucky is picking me up."

"Well don't be a stranger," her father waves goodbye as he heads to the conveyor belt to grab Elizabeth's bags.

"Bye," Elizabeth awkwardly waves.

"Wait," Steve stops her, "Maybe we can meet up some time this summer before we all head back to school."

"We as in you and me. Or as in you, me, and James?" She curiously asks.

"Of course, you, me and Bucky," he lies, "if that's alright with you. Not sure how things are still with you both."

"Things are you know, weird, but sure why not," she shrugged, "text me when and where."

They said their final goodbyes before parting ways.

Of course I meant with Bucky, right? He thought.

"Steven Grant Rogers?" He heard someone yell.

"Buck," he smiled, happy to see his best friend.

"Damn man, you got huge since I last saw you over the holidays," Bucky commented embracing Steve in a hug.

"It's not really much," he tried to brush it off.

"Dude you look like you ate the old you," he laughed.

"You just missed Liz," Steve said as he and Bucky walked to his car.

"Liz?" Bucky asked confused.

"Elizabeth. Sorry everyone calls her Liz at school," Steve says as he stops outside of Bucky's parked car.

"You guys hung out over there?" Bucky asks opening the trunk of his car.

"Just once," he says placing his suitcases in the trunk, "Remember that guy Thor I was telling you about?"

"Yeah, your personnel trainer," Bucky recalls walking over to the driver side, as Steve got in the passenger side.

Something in the passenger door pocket catches his eye.

"Well turns out Elizabeth is friends with his brother," Steve cautiously tells Bucky, "Ran into her at his party on Friday and we also were not he same flight back."

"Is she dating the guy?" Bucky begrudgingly asks, as he pulls away from he airport.

"Thor's brother? No," Steve says, unsure if he should even be telling Bucky about Elizabeth's new life, "I don't think she's dating anyone, she went to the party with her roommate."

"Cool," Bucky says pretending as if he isn't happy to hear that.

After a few moments of silence Steve decided to bring up what he saw, "So when did you start wearing red thongs?" He asked, gently pulling out the under by the tips of his fingers.

"Uh, you know college, all about experimenting," Bucky lied.

"Are you still planning on getting back with Elizabeth?" Steve ignored Bucky's answer.

"Steve, I don't need another lecture from you," Bucky rolled his eyes.

"I'm just asking, you're clearly not lonely."

"I'm single, so is Elizabeth," Bucky says, "If she were doing what I was it'd be perfectly fine."

"Buck, all I was doing was asking a question because if you are planning on getting back together with Elizabeth, you'll need to get rid of any incriminating evidence."

"Yes, okay. I plan on at least trying to see if Elizabeth would be willing to give it another try," he confesses.

"How is she?" Bucky asks.

"Happy," Steve answers truthfully, "I don't think I've ever seen her happier. College really did her well."

Bucky glanced over at Steve, noticing the way his best friend said the last part. He chose to ignore it.

The remainder of the car ride was spent on them catching up.

_____________________

Elizabeth spent the first couple of days unpacking her things and getting back into the rhythm of being home. She had to admit to herself that she truly did miss being home, her parents were even more thrilled. An empty home was not something they liked. They were even talking about getting a pet.

As she was putting away her freshly washed clothes, her phone vibrated. She had assumed it was Wanda freaking out over what to wear to Thor's graduation tomorrow night. She was surprised to see Steve's name across her screen.

It was a text:

Hey, if you're not busy tonight my parents are having a small BBQ. It's a last minute thing, so if you're free you're more than welcome to join. It starts at 6 :) She took a second to think it through. She knew if she went, there was no doubt that Bucky would be there. She had managed not to run into him so far, but she knew it wouldn't last forever. They did still live across the street from each other. So she texted back:

Hey Steve. I'm totally free. I'll be there :D

_____________________

Elizabeth took her time getting ready. As the time got closer, the more nervous she got.

Before she left she decided to call Wanda.

"I'm so nervous," she tells her friend.

"Take a shot," Wanda answered quickly.

"Dude, I"m home. My parents are definitely not going to let me 'take a shot'. Did you forget we are legally not supposed to," Elizabeth rolled her eyes looking around for her purse.

"Well are you wearing something hot, to show that idiot what he's missing."

"The last thing I want is to look 'hot'," Elizabeth stressed, "If anything I want to look as un hot as possible. I don't want him or anyone else here looking at me like that."

"Except for Steve," Wanda smirked over the phone.

"Yeah, except for Ste-" Elizabeth stopped, she was taken by surprise at what Wanda said and her own response, "No. Wait. What?"

"Oh come on Liz. I may have been slightly preoccupied by Thor that night, but Steve was definitely giving you the eyes," Wanda says, "And you were as well."

"The eyes?"

"Yeah, heart eyes," Wanda says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, "The same way I look at Thor. Or the way Scott and Loki look at each other."

"Wanda, Steve and I weren't looking at each other with heart eyes," Elizabeth denied, "He's one of my longest, closest friends. Plus he's practically Bucky's brother."

"So you thought about it?" Wanda teased.

"I called you to ease my nerves, not make them worse," Elizabeth groaned.

"Sorry," Wanda sincerely apologized, realizing she was being no help to her best friend, "Liz, everything is going to be fine tonight. If anything, all you need to do is be polite to James. Hell, you don't even need to talk to him.

"He's going to want to talk."

"Then keep it cordial, platonic," Wanda reassured her, "You don't have to tell him anything you don't want to. Your life is yours. Not his."

"In the words of Cristina Yang, 'You're the sun. Not him,'" Wanda said quoting one of their favorite shows.

"I'm the sun," Elizabeth repeated, feeling the weight slipping of her shoulders, "Thanks, Wan. I'll call you afterwards."

"Unless you and Steve are getting it on, then you can call me tomorrow."

"Bye," Elizabeth hung up the phone.

____________________

Elizabeth decided to walk the three blocks to the Rogers' household. It was a nice night, and she missed being able to walk everywhere. Something she definitely took for granted once she moved to the west coast.

When she got in front to the Rogers' house, she took one final inhale and exhale, gripping the platter of brownies her mom made as a gift. She the proceeded to walk to the side door, leading to the backyard where everyone was.

She didn't know why she was feeling so nervous. The Rogers weren't strangers. She practically grew up in this house. She knew not just Steve's parents, but his whole family, and they knew her. This would be just like visiting her own family, yet it wasn't. She didn't even really talk to Steve for almost a year.

As soon as she entered the backyard, she couldn't help but feel slightly out of place. She thought she could quickly turn back, no one had even noticed her arrival.

"Oh my gosh," she heard a woman's voice from across the yard, "Is that Elizabeth Sanchez?"

Elizabeth looked over to see Steve's mom, Sarah, rushing over with open arms. She was always so motherly. Elizabeth, welcomed her hug, hugging her back with one hand while the other one still clutched the container of brownies.

"Look at you," Sarah Rogers exclaimed, pulling away but keeping a grasp on Elizabeth's arms, taking her in, "College made such a fine young lady out of you."

Elizabeth couldn't help but to blush, she didn't think she looked that much different. If anything she had gained a few more pounds, and her hair was a bit of a mess, due to the New York humidity.

"Joseph, it's Elizabeth," she called out to her husband who was at the grill with one of Steve's uncles.

"My oh my, well isn't it little Elizabeth Sanchez, all grown up," he proudly smiled, hugging her.

Steve's parents were always so kind to her, like her parents they only had one child. She got the feeling that they saw her as another child, seeing as they were constantly feeding her throughout her youth.

"Your parents didn't come with you?" Joseph asked.

"No, they couldn't make it. They were driving up north to pick up my Grandma. But my mom did send these as an apology," Elizabeth held out the brownies.

"The famous Sanchez brownies," Sarah grabs the container, "Come on in sweetie, make yourself at home."

"Steve, Elizabeth is here," his mother calls into the yard.

Elizabeth looks in the direction his mother yelled into, and spotted Steve, who had a big smile on his face. He wasn't alone, he was with a few people they had went to high school with, and of course in the group was Bucky.

Elizabeth made her way to them all.

"You made it," Steve's smile got bigger, as he went to hug her.

"I told you I would," she said into his shoulder.

"Yeah, well," he pointedly said.

Steve didn't think Elizabeth would really come. He figured since she knew Bucky would be there, she would decide last minute to not go. He was very happy that she decided to not let that stop her. He couldn't help but watch her and she went around the group greeting the familiar faces. Then he felt someone staring at him, and turned to see Bucky watching him watch her.

Steve felt embarrassed when he caught the eyes of Bucky's looking right at him. He quickly played it off.

"Say hi," Steve mouthed to him.

Bucky hesitated for a second glancing back between Steve and Elizabeth. He felt sick. He's been waiting for this moment for awhile, and now all he wanted to do was to run away.

She looked different, the same but different. Steve was right, she seemed genuinely happy. College had brought this new aura to her, she was glowing. Bucky instantly felt guilty for all the pain he's caused her.

He felt a soft nudge to his right side, Steve pointed his head towards the girl that was standing in front of him.

"Uh hi," Bucky nervously said.

"Hi Bucky," she politely smiled.

She called him Bucky. She hadn't called him that since before senior year happened. Steve had mentioned that she had only called him James. He immediately relaxed.

"How have you been?" Elizabeth asked him.

"Good, I've been good," he stumbled over his words, "Yourself?"

"I've been really good," she smiled. This wasn't as bad as Elizabeth thought it's old be.

Before Bucky could respond, they heard a scream. They both turned to see an older Rebecca Barnes running towards them.

Rebecca was now 15 years-old. She came along way from being Bucky's little sister. Elizabeth had always seen Rebecca as the little sister she always wanted. When she and Bucky were dating she would often include Rebecca on their outings. She never wanted Rebecca to feel left out simply because she was the youngest.

After she and Bucky broke up, Elizabeth stopped seeing Rebecca as well. It was just too hard for her. Plus, it took her months to forgive Bucky.

"Rebecca," she laughed, as the young girl threw her arms around the older one.

"You look so good," Rebecca said, pulling away with a giant smile on her face. She no longer had braces, Elizabeth noted.

"Aw thanks, I see those braces finally came off."

"Yeah, just two weeks ago," she smiled even brighter.

Bucky couldn't help but watch the two girls catch up with smiles on their faces.

After they had broken up senior year Rebecca kept asking Bucky went to school in Brooklyn, Rebecca went to a science based school in Queens. She never heard the rumors, but Rebecca was smart and intuitive. When Natasha started coming around more, she put two and two together. She never told Bucky she knew the truth, she figured he was trying to protect her.

"How's California?" Rebecca asked, causing Bucky to tune back into their conversation.

"Amazing," Elizabeth smiled, "Stanford is everything I thought it would be and more. The people there are great as well."

"Any lucky person?"

Leave it to Rebecca to be nosey, Bucky thought.

"Nah," Elizabeth shook her head, "School has been my top priority. Being a pre-law major is a lot of work."

Elizabeth and Rebecca spent some time catching up before Rebecca left to go meet up with some friends in Queens.

"Do you want a drink?" Bucky asks her, holding up an unopened can of soda.

"Thank-you," she grabbed it. She took a look around to see that their group had left and were now mingling with other guests.

It was just her and Bucky in the corner of the yard.

"So," he said shifting on his feet.

"So," she opened the can of soda, causing a loud carbonation sound breaking the awkward silence.

"This is awkward," he nervously laughed.

"Just a little," she agreed.

"Listen-"

"It's all water under the bridge Bucky," Elizabeth interrupted him, "We aren't those people anymore. We're adults now. In college. I meant it when I wrote you that I wanted to move on from all of that. No hard feelings. Think we can do that without mentioning the past?"

"Yeah, I think we're could," he smiled.

"Good," she smiled back, and this time it wasn't a forced one.

"You really do look good," he complimented her, carefully watching her reaction.

"Thank-you," she blushed, looking down at her feet, "So do you. I see you've been following Steve's footsteps about going to the gym."

"Yeah," he blushed, scratching the back of his neck, "It's nothing compared to Steve's. The punk looks like he ate the old Steve. That Thor guy must be one hell of a trainer."

"Oh Thor, he's practically built like a God," Elizabeth giggles, "If you think Steve is big, Thor is a fucking planet."

Bucky laughed along with her.

"So how's school going?" Elizabeth asked him.

"Good actually," Bucky smiled, "I'm going to be taking some summer courses to get a jump start for next year."

"Perks of being so close to campus," she smiled, "Did you have good roommate?"

"Yeah, his name is Sam, he's also in the same Music Technology program as me," Bucky explained, "He's going to be visiting during summer, so hopefully you get a chance to meet him."

Everything was going smoothly throughout the night. Elizabeth found herself having a really great time. She even started to find herself missing Bucky while catching up with him.

She shook off the feeling. It had to be a natural way to feel, she and Bucky had known each other their whole lives, and this was their first time actually talking in over a year.

When the party was starting to dwindle down, Elizabeth felt it was the right time to go home.

"I'm going to get going," she said to Steve, going to hug him goodbye.

"Thanks for coming," he smiled into the hug, "Did you drive here?"

"No, I walked," she informs him, "One thing about the west coast, most things aren't in walking distance."

"Right, I suggested walking somewhere once to my roommate, and he looked at me like I was crazy," Steve laughed.

"Will you be alright walking on your own?" He asked.

"I've done it many times before," she said.

"Hey man, I'm gonna take off," Bucky walks over interrupting their conversation.

"Perfect, Liz was just leaving as well, maybe you can give her a ride," Steve suggested.

"Oh, I actually walked here," Bucky tells him.

"Even better, so did she," Steve smiled proudly.

"You okay with that?" Bucky turns to Elizabeth. He wanted to make sure he wasn't overstepping any invisible boundaries.

"Yeah, I mean we both are heading to practically the same location," she shrugs her shoulders.

Both of them finished saying their goodbyes and began their walk back home. This was the first time they've been alone in way over a year. No party or people to come join in on the conversations. Just Elizabeth and Bucky.

Elizabeth glanced up at the sky, as they walked. Brooklyn was abnormally quiet that night. I was so peaceful, she couldn't help but take it all in.

"I've missed Brooklyn," she says just above a whisper as to not disturb the peacefulness of the night.

"It's missed you," Bucky confesses looking right at her.

Elizabeth was taken back by his response, she glanced to her left to see Bucky staring right at her. She stopped walking. She couldn't pinpoint what she was feeling in that moment.

Bucky panicked, "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," he apologized.

Elizabeth remained quiet. Trying to process it all. Whatever move she mad will have some sort of lasting affect on both of them.

"If you want to walk ahead I understand," he says, "I'll wait here for five minutes before I begin walking again."

Elizabeth stared into those sad blue eyes. The eyes that always found their way back to her. Maybe this time everything would be different, she thought.

"Elizabeth," Bucky quietly calls, carefully placing his hand on her's. She snapped out of her thoughts, and instantly laced her fingers through his.

"It's all good," she smiled giving his hand a reassuring squeeze, "Let's continue walking."

Bucky couldn't fight the smile growing on his face, as they continued to walk hand in hand.

Once they had reached Elizabeth's house, they stopped outside of the the gated yard.

"So," Bucky said as they stood outside the gate, still holding hands.

"So," Elizabeth smiled, subtly biting her lower lip, "Do you want to come inside for a bit? My parents won't be back until tomorrow morning."

Elizabeth had no idea what came over her to invite Bucky inside. She knew it wasn't a harmless invitation. They both knew what would happen once that front door closed.

"God, I'm going to regret this later," Bucky mumbled, causing Elizabeth to be confused.

"As much as I would love to go inside," he carefully began, "and trust me Elizabeth, there's nothing I would love more. I just have to say no."

"Oh," she said feeling utterly rejected. She wasn't expecting that response.

"Please don't take it as a rejection," he quickly said, grabbing her other hand, "I really want to give us another try. And in order for that to work, I think it's best if we don't rush into it. Because we both know once that door closes, taking our time will go right out the window. And I don't want to screw this up, again.

"I love you, Elizabeth. I never stopped. So please, please know I want to prove to you how much I love you by taking our time. Getting to re-know these new versions of ourselves."

Elizabeth was shocked. Not in a bad way. Bucky has really grown up this past year. Everything he was saying made sense. Yet she still couldn't help but feel sort of disappointed.

"Okay," she smiled, "You're right let's take this slow. Start fresh."

"Thank-you for understanding," he smiled, proud of himself for having some willpower, "Can I take you out tomorrow night?"

"Yes, I would like that."

"Does seven work for you?"

"Seven is good," she nodded her head.

"Perfect, I'll see you at seven," he kissed her cheek before dropping her hands and walking across the street to his own house.

Elizabeth went inside and headed to her own bedroom. She flopped down onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She pulled out red phone and immediately called Wanda, placing the phone on speaker and putting it next to her head on her pillow.

"You're not getting laid," Wanda greeted.

"Hey, I tried," Wanda defended.

"Wait, really?" Wanda sounded surprised, "You tried having sex with Steve?"

"Not with Steve," she hesitated for a second.

"Please don't tell me," Wanda groaned already knowing who she was talking about.

Elizabeth remained silent.

"Did you try to have sex with James?" Wanda asked needing verbal confirmation.

"Yes," Elizabeth admitted, "Everything went great at Steve's. Bucky and I spent most the night catching up and just talking. It made me realize how much I missed him. Also wan't bad that he somehow got better in the last year. We then walked home together, and when we got to my house, I invited him inside."

"Look at you taking initiative!" Wanda cheered.

"Yeah, well I didn't have the lucky red dress to take it all the way."

"What happened?"

"He turned me down," Elizabeth confessed.

"What?" Wanda yelled, "He turned you down!"

"He actually had a good reasoning for turning me down."

"Which was?"

"He wants to take this slow," Elizabeth tells her, "He said he wants us to get reacquainted with each other. Get to know who we are now, as oppose to who we were. He doesn't want to ruin it."

"I mean it does make sense."

"He also might've said he still loves me," Elizabeth quietly said the last part.

"He still loves you?" Wanda gasped.

"Yeah."

"How do you feel about that?" Wanda curiously asks.

"Honestly," Elizabeth pauses, trying to get her thoughts under control, "It made me happy to hear."

"Do you still love him?"

"Yes?" Elizabeth said unsure, "Based on the way I felt tonight? Yes I still do."

"Based on before tonight?" Elizabeth questioned.

"I always kept Bucky in the farthest corner of my mind. You know," she says, "He had hurt me so bad that after I forgives him, I just kind of wanted to move on from it all.

"I didn't want to take that kind of energy with me to Stanford. But once I was back, here in Brooklyn, all these feelings kept creeping back. And I don't know if it's cause I'm back home, and it's this familiar type of love. Bucky was always my comfort. He played such a big part of my life. The good, and the bad. How does one forget all that?"

"Is it a bad thing to say that I knew he'd come back to me?" Elizabeth expresses.

There was a pause on the other side of the phone.

"No," Wanda finally spoke, "What you two had isn't something that can be easily erased. But..."

"But?"

"I know you've said you've forgive him for cheating on you," Wanda says, "and I do believe that you have. But do yo think you can actually put that behind you once everything starts back up again. Will you be able to look at him as your partner and not second guess whatever he tells you.

"And I don't meat to be harsh here, but I also think it's important to be realistic about it all. Because when summer ends you'll be back here, at Stanford. While Bucky stays there."

Elizabeth takes a moment to think through everything Wanda has said. She knows what she's saying isn't without reasons. Elizabeth had told Wanda everything that had happened, so of course she was only looking out for Elizabeth.

But the Bucky Elizabeth saw tonight was definitely not the Bucky she had left last fall. And it might be naive of her to think, but she knew him. She knew he wasn't a bad person. Even good people make mistakes. She knew she should have to do this for herself, no matter how many people thought it was a bad idea.

"I don't want him to haunt all of my 'what ifs'," she spoke, "This is something that I have to give another shot. Even after everything he's put me through, I do still love him Wanda. I can't just give up this chance at love."

"Like I said before, this is your life," Wanda says, "You gotta do what's best for you and only you know what that is. And you know I will always be here for you. You're stuck with me for life."

Elizabeth had never felt more relieved, she knew she didn't need Wanda's blessing, but to have it was nice.

___________________

Over the next month, Elizabeth and Bucky had been on many dates. This whole getting to know each other again was going really well. They had also both agreed not to be exclusive. It didn't make sense to rush into putting a label on it.

After the first two weeks they both started to get busy. Bucky was taking three fast track classes during the summer, so he was busty during the week, going from school then back home.

Elizabeth had gotten a summer job at a dental office. She was hired to help with scheduling appointments, and filing paperwork. The job paid more than any usual summer job an almost 19 year-old with hardly no experience could get. She had previously tutored for the doctor who owned it kids. So when she heard Elizabeth was looking for a job, she offered it to her on the spot.

She couldn't complain, yes some days were longer than others, but the money was good and she had the weekends off, which now were the only times she and Bucky were able to see each other.

It was another long day of work, and Elizabeth had spent the day dealing with unruly patients. All she wanted to do was take a bath, have pizza, and crash. But she then remembered she and Bucky had a date planned for that evening. She glanced at the clock on the wall. He would be here in an hour.

As much as she wanted to go out, she really didn't have the energy to. Plush, she didn't really want to see anyone.

She pressed the call icon next to Bucky's name on her phone.

"Hey Liz," he greeted. Bucky and everyone else back home had gotten into the habit of calling her by her new 'grown-up' nickname.

"Please don't be upset," she says.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Is it alright if we reschedule tonight's date," she says, "I just got home from work and I had a long day of dealing with rude people."

"Yeah of course," he tells her, he could hear just how exhausted she was, "Do you want me to bring over some food? We could could always have a night in."

"Thanks Buck, but I really just want to be along for the night," she tells him as she made her way into her room, "Is that okay?"

"Of course," he assured her, "I completely understand. I think Steve has the night off anyways, so think I'll head to his place for the night. Do you want to grab some lunch tomorrow during your lunch break?"

"That sounds perfect," she smiled, "Thanks again Buck."

"No worries. Have a good night."

"You too, tell Steve I said hi," she hung up the phone.

As she went to go put her bag down on her desk, her phone began to ring.

"Hey Wanda," she tiredly greeted her friend.

"Hey, everything okay?" Wanda asked, immediately sensing Elizabeth's mood.

"Just a long day, what's up?" She yawned.

"Just calling to ask you something."

"What's that?"

"You can say no first of all," Wanda clarified, "So I just got off of the phone with Thor and i was telling him about how I will be visiting you next week or the 4th of July, and well he kind of asked if he can come to New York as well."

"Oh," Elizabeth said, not expecting to hear that, "Are you asking for my permission, if your boyfriend can come?"

"Not my boyfriend, yet" Wanda sighs, "But yes. I guess he was also talking to Steve about visiting. He won't need to stay at your place either."

"Wanda, you don't have to ask me," Elizabeth assures her, "If Thor wants to come visit, he's more than welcomed to. I don't mind at all. Plus it'll be nice to see him."

"Oh, thank god," Wanda sighed in relief, "I just didn't want you to think that I don't want to spend time with you, because I do. I just don't want to be one of those girls that sneakily brings her boyfriend on a girl's trip. But don't worry, Thor is going to be doing his own thing with Steve. I am all your's for the weekend.

"Wanda it's okay. I know you aren't one of those girls. If you do become one of them, I'll make sure to save you."

"You're the best Liz," Wanda smiled, "Wait don't you have a date with Bucky tonight?"

"Not anymore, I cancelled," she says, "Too tired, Just want food and sleep."

"Ahh well, I'll let you go, enjoy your food and sleep, and I'll see you next week."

Elizabeth hung up the phone and decided to take advantage of the quiet house and take a bath before her parents got home from work.

As she entered her room, wearing a robe and her hair up in a towel, her phone began to ring.

"So much for a quiet time," she sighed, picking up the phone.

"Hey Steve what's up?"

"Sorry to bother you, I know you've had along day at work, but Bucky just bailed on me, something to do with Rebecca," he tells her, "And I'm outside of his house with a large pizza, and I don't want it to go to waste."

The other line went dead, Steve looked down at his phone to see that Elizabeth had hung up the phone. He hesitated for a second, thinking he should've just went home. As he was about to start his car up again, he heard his name being called. He looked across the street to find Elizabeth standing in her front door, in nothing but a robe.

"It better be a pepperoni pizza," she called out.

He laughed, and got out of his car with the large pizza in hand, "Only the best kind."

She moved out of the way to let him into the house, and lead him into the living room.

"Okay I'm going to head upstairs and put some clothes on," she says, "Make yourself at home, you know where everything is at."

"Sorry again about the drop in," Steve apologized once Elizabeth came back down with a fresh pair of clothes and hair brushed through.

"No worries, sorry Bucky bailed," she said sitting down next to Steve on the couch, "But his loss, is my pizza gain."

They spent the next hour devouring the pizza and watching a movie.

"So I hear Thor is visiting next week," she says, as she places her empty plate inside the empty pizza box, before making herself comfortable on the couch.

"Yeah, actually I wanted to talk to you about that," Steve says adjusting himself to face Elizabeth to his right, "Thor's parents have a house in the Hampton's, and they said we could use it for the 4th of July weekend. Not sure if you and Wanda already had plans, but you guys are more than welcome to join us."

"That sounds like a lot of fun. I'm sure Wanda wouldn't mind either," she smiled, "Plus I have never been to the Hamptons."

"Then it's settled, weekend at the Hamptons," Steve smiled, "I believe Loki and Scott will be joining us as well. Bucky is also inviting his roommate Sam, and I was planning on inviting some of the kids we went to school with."

"Sounds like a party."

____________________

Elizabeth and Wanda drove up to East Hampton together. The boys drove up the night before to get everything set up.

"So how are things between you and Bucky?" Wanda asked lowering down the volume.

"Things have been okay," Elizabeth sighed, as she kept her eyes ahead as she drove.

"Just okay?" Wanda asked, "A month ago you couldn't stop talking about him. What changed?"

"We haven't had much time together the last week or so," Elizabeth says, "and he's been cancelling a lot on me this past week."

"Did you say he was taking summer courses?"

"Yeah," Elizabeth nodded.

"Then he's probably just busy," Wanda reassures her, "Now, look at it this way. You'll have four days to catch up. Plus, you'll have the lucky red dress."

"We're taking it slow, remember?"

"It's been a month and a half. Have you guys even kissed?" Wanda playfully joked.

"He wants to take it slow," Elizabeth quietly repeated.

"Wait!" Wanda yelled startling Elizabeth.

"Geez Wan, I'm driving!"

"You guys haven't even kissed yet!"

"He wants to take it slow!" Elizabeth yelled back.

"There's slow and then there's being a fucking nun. Is he a nun?"

"I don't know what you want me to say. It's not for lack of trying," Elizabeth stressed, "I've tried. Believe me, I've tried."

Wanda remained quiet, causing Elizabeth to get an unsettling feeling in her stomach.

"Why are you so quiet? You're never this quiet. Ever."

"I'm just thinking," Wanda says.

"Well please do share your thoughts."

"You guys haven't even kissed, does that not worry you?"

"Yes," Elizabeth confessed, "Of course it does."

"Do you think," Wanda pauses, "Now don't freak out when I ask this because we don't want to die, and we also don't know what's going on. But do you think he's seeing someone else?"

"I haven't even thought of that," Elizabeth says.

Wanda glances over and notices the far off look in Elizabeth's eyes.

"You know what, that wasn't a logical explanation," Wanda says trying to bring back her spiraling friend, "I'm sure Bucky is just busy."

"Yeah," Elizabeth agreed, but not really believing any of it.

____________________________

The girls arrived to the house an hour later, it was barely going to be noon. The rest of their car ride was no longer filled with talks of relationships, but just spent listening to music, and discussing plans for their new apartment. When they pulled up, they were in awe of the beautiful house. There was already two cars in the driveway, one belonging to Steve, and the other must've been Loki's rental. "How much money do those Odinsons have?" Wanda stated looking up at the house. The house was a white modern looking two-story farmhouse. The two car drive way, looked like a mini version of the house. It looked homey. "You're here!" They heard a booming voice yell, as they exited the car. They looked up to the front door to see Thor fast walking his way over to them. He quickly made his way to Wanda and took both girls by surprise by picking her up and kissing her. At least someone's getting kissed, Elizabeth thought smiling at how happy her best friend looked. "Hello to you too," Wanda smiled, once they pulled apart. "I've missed you," he grinned, placing her down gently, "Hi Elizabeth." "Hi Thor, nice to see you," she greeted him, as she opened the trunk of her car to get the bags out. "Here let me get those," he said, grabbing both suitcases from the trunk, "The boys are out back in the pool." Thor showed both girls to their room first before walking them out to the back to greet the rest of the boys. "Lizzy! Wanda!" Loki shouted, running over to both girls and throwing his arms around them both. "Finally some estrogen to balance out all of this testosterone," he whispered in their ears, causing both girls to giggle. Once they pulled apart they were greeted by Loki's boyfriend Scott Lang. "Hi Scott," both girls greeted, hugging him as well. Elizabeth looked past the patio area to the backyard, where the pool was placed in the middle of nothing but grass. A typical Hamptons backyard. She saw Steve, Bucky, and who she assumed to be Bucky's roommate Sam, emerging from the pool. "Hey, you guys made it," Steve smiled. "All in one piece." "Barely," Wanda whispered to Loki. "This is Wanda, my roommate from Stanford," she introduced, "Not sure if you met back then. Wanda this is Steve, and Bucky, and Sam, right?" "Correct," Sam answered extending his arm out to shake their hands, "Sam Wilson, the person who's had to put up with Bucky for almost a year." Elizabeth laughed, "So sorry you've had to deal with that." "Ha ha funny," Bucky rolled his eyes, shaking Wanda's hand. He looked over at Elizabeth about to go in for a hug, but stopping once he realized he was wet from the pool. He gave her a smile, and she returned it. "Oh, I forgot. Happy birthday Steve," Elizabeth announced, "I would hug you but your wet." "Thanks, Liz," he smiled. Elizabeth glanced over at Wanda who was raising her eyebrows teasingly. Elizabeth shook her head. "So what time is everyone arriving?" She asks. "We told everyone two," Loki said, "the catering staff should be hear soon. "Catering?" Wanda asked. "Our parents insisted, seeing as last time Thor tried to have a barbecue he almost burned down the house," Loki explains to them. "He's pretty and smart, he doesn't have to cook," Wanda defended him, "Also helps that he has a big di-" "Okay," Elizabeth clapped her hands interrupting Wanda from finishing that sentence, "We're going to go get ready." "We'll join you," Loki said, with Scott behind him following the girls upstairs to their shared room. "So that's Bucky?" Loki asked, throwing himself onto one of the beds while Scott closed the door behind them. "Yup." "He's hot," Scott stated. "Don't start fawning over him," Wanda raises her hand, "He hasn't even kissed her yet." "What?" Loki and Scott gasped. "Are you going to be telling everyone that?" Elizabeth asked, heading into the en-suite bathroom. "You brought the red dress right?" Scott asked Wanda, already knowing all about her lucky red dress. "Yes, nobody worry," Wanda says pulling out the red dress, "Our dear sweet Lizzy will be getting at least some action tonight. Even if it's the bare minimum."

__________________________

The party was going great, everyone had invited a mixture of friends. Some were from Elizabeth's high school, some of them had grown up with Thor and Loki. It was a good mix of people. And everyone was having a great time.

In the car ride Elizabeth had been nervous after her conversation with Wanda about Bucky, but all those worries went away once she had made her way back down after getting ready.

Bucky hadn't left her side, since then, and he was being more openly affectionate than before. There was still no kiss, but Elizabeth didn't have a doubt in her mind the night wouldn't be ending without one, maybe even a little more.

Thank you lucky red dress.

It was around eight pm when Thor suggested they start doing the fireworks, everyone in the neighborhood had started to as well. So everyone made their way into the front yard, some in chairs, some on the grass, and some just standing around.

Elizabeth was sitting on the lawn, looking up at the lit up sky. She looked to her right to see Steve admiring all the colors, she softly smiled at him and the way he looked so content and happy.

She looked to her left to find the spot Bucky was just at a minute ago empty. She took a quick look around and couldn't see him, she shrugged it off just assuming he was somewhere nearby or in the house. She knew he had difficulties with large crowds and sometimes he just needed to step away.

After twenty minutes, Bucky still wasn't back.

"Hey Steve, I'll be back, I'm going to go check on Bucky," she tells him before heading back into the house.

The house was quiet, since everyone was outside watching the fireworks. She checked the back and all of downstairs but couldn't find Bucky, even the catering crew were outside watching the fireworks.

Elizabeth headed upstairs, thinking Bucky probably went to find peace in his room. Bucky and Sam were sharing a room for the weekend, it was the first one to the right once you reached the top of the stairs.

As soon as Elizabeth reached the final step, the bedroom door opened up. She smiled thinking Bucky was going to walk out, but the smile dropped when she was greeted by not Bucky but Natasha Romanoff walking out.

Natasha hadn't noticed Elizabeth yet, she was smiling at the person walking out right behind her.

Bucky had a huge grin on his face, his hair was a mess and so was Natasha's. His smiled instantly dropped and his eyes widen once he noticed Elizabeth frozen at the top of the stairs.

So much for a lucky dress...

85 notes · View notes

justoneday-namjoonii · 5 years ago

Text

Don’t Breathe | 5.0

»Genre: hitman!au || stalker!au ||

»Warnings: kidnapping, stalking, obsession, themes of borderline Stockholm syndrome and Lima syndrome, brief mono-phobia, mature elements, manhandling, breakdowns, guns, yandere (? i think ), he thinks it’s cute when she cries, eventually they fall in love, Disclaimer: I do not condone nor suggest stalking/kidnapping or anything of that nature, this is pure fiction ok, kidnappers and stalkers DO NOT love you.

»Summary: He doesn’t get shaky hands, he never forgets his gloves and he never leaves a trail. He was paid to get rid of everyone who witnessed the exchange between a gang lord and a politician, they were picked off, one by one. He found out a month later, he missed one. A young writer who attended the event where the exchange took place. He has to kill her. Can he do it?

✤ pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.2.5 - pt.3 - pt. 3.5 - pt. 4.0 - pt. 4.5 - pt. 5.0 - pt.5.5 - pt.6.0

a/n: this is a heavy and wordy chapter so bare with me, we’re almost at the finale! thank you for reading and i hope u enjoy!💖

taglist: @tangledsparkles @just-another-fangurl21 @impartoftoomanyfandoms @komorebi-unnie @tangledsparkles @yes-sol-not-soul (sorry :( tumblr won’t let me tag you) @sarzkh31

When you woke up this morning, you felt nauseous, sick to your stomach. Last night, while you were sleeping, he packed up some basic necessities and put them in his car. He said Yeosang would be by soon to officialese everything and that you could relax until then. But you can’t, you’re head hurts so bad, you want to throw up.

“I was in the other room but I didn’t hear you get up, I would’ve made you breakfast,” Taehyung leans against the bathroom door frame and watches you, you’re dressed and he’s wondering how he missed you waking up and showering. You’re busy brushing your teeth, still wanting to pass out from how bad your headache is, but you decide against it.

“Did you sleep well?” You nod, spitting in the sink with the running water. He tilts his head, already picking up on your change in demeanor. Taking a step towards you, he lifts your chin to get you to look him in the eye, “Hey, I know that face, look at me,” Concern coats his expression and you will yourself to finally look at him, “what’s wrong?”

“I’m just- I don’t know, I’m nervous about all of this,” You walk past him into the bedroom, the beautiful bedroom you’ll probably never get to share with him again, “what if things don’t work out? What if your friend can’t help us, then what?” You sit on the edge of the bed, hugging yourself at the thought, the terror you would endure if this all went south. “I’m scared, I have this bad feeling, it’s making me really uneasy...”

“I know,” Taehyung can’t say he’s never had those thoughts, it plagues his mind too. The thought of no longer having the comfort of each other, the joy in your smiles and laughter being taken, it’s scary. Kneeling in front of you, he takes your hands into his with a light squeeze.

“I know it’s scary, and we’re taking a huge risk,” He tilts his head, puppy-dog eyes peering into your weary ones, “but I promise, I’m doing what’s best to keep us safe and together, alright baby?” He caresses the side of your face with the back of his hand, but the affection makes you pout rather than feel better.

“Hey, and guess what? Once this is all over, we’ll be shopping at local markets to buy fresh produce for us to cook with,” He smiles, trying to lighten up your mood with the dreamy idea, “we can paint whatever we can get our hands on, with whatever paint you want, you can write stories and poems during picnics, we could do whatever your heart desires, we’ll have a new life together,” He thumbs at the backs of your hands, tugging at your heartstrings to get you to smile. “I’ll even get you a puppy if you want one, doesn’t that sound perfect?”

You can’t help but form a little grin at the thought. “It does...”

“That’s what’s waiting for us bunny, we just have to wait for a little while,” He sits up to cup the back of your neck and places a firm kiss on your lips, so soft and warm but short-lived when he pulls away, “so give me a little smile, please?” You oblige, smiling down at him and he pinches your chin with a giggle.

"There you go, that’s my sweet girl,” He stands up and takes you with him, arms wrapped just at your thighs to keep you above ground, “why don’t you go get a few paintings to take with you, while I pack up a few things, and you can wear my favorite bracelet for good luck,”

”Pack?” You sigh, feet hitting the ground when he let’s you go. He slips off the black threaded bracelet and tightens it around your wrist with a smile. “Do you want me to help-”

“You go, I got it,” He holds your head in his hands and kisses between your brows with an audible smooch which made you laugh, “go on.”

With a pat on your butt, you’re making your way out of the bedroom and down to the basement. When you get down there, you realize the number of paintings you have. There are about ten to fifteen finished paintings and the others are unfinished. The little story that’s being written is illustrated in this painting, wonder and lover is illustrated in these paintings. In your attempt to pick a few, you notice the little cushion he got for you months ago. Sometimes, it doesn’t even register to you that once you were stuck down here, fighting and dying to leave this place. Now you’re almost in tears at the thought of having to leave.

But you’re new life is ahead of you, you should be happy.

Leu is facing a political nightmare, there’s a chance he won’t recover from this. Scandals happen all the time, affairs, bribery, on rare occasions, perjury. But seldom is a man of his prowess busted for abetting in multiple murders. There’s no coming back from this. He’s been tracking the phone for a few weeks, and only recently did he realize it was active recently. He completely missed it. When he arrived at the police station, he gave one of the detectives the phone number to hopefully track. He’s been waiting in a room filled with computers and busy interns, just waiting for results. When he considers leaving the room for another bland coffee, he gets a phone call. Looking down at the screen, he sees who it is and decides to answer it.

Yoongi dismisses himself and steps into the hall, “Hello?”

“Jin told me you all found the person who hired the group that killed all those people and took Y/n, is that true?” She sounds hopeful.

“We found him. I can’t reveal too much but we’re hammering down on the search, trying to track the location of the cellphone.”

“I hope she’s okay,” Her voice falters a bit, “there are some sick people out there, I just pray she’s not with one of them.”

He has to cut the call short when one of the tech people waves aggressively to get his attention.

“We just got a location,” The woman beckons him back into the room, “it’s about an hour and a half away from here, in what looks like one of the upper-class neighborhoods on the east-side.”

Yoongi walks over to the computer, eyes skimming over the estimated location of the cellphone. “The phone was traced to that location?”

He’s surprised that your phone would be in such a nice area, but then again he knows what the Hwan Group has been rumored to do. They’ve sold they’re victims to high-paying old men and women who’re looking to fulfill their sick desires in innocent people. It’s repulsive. He can’t help the churn he feels in his stomach when the thought of a person being used like that crosses his mind. In his career in the FBI and even as a PI now, he’s seen some shit. And no matter how many times he’s walked in on dead bodies, shackled victims, bloodied crime scenes, seeing people mistreated makes him sick. But what keeps him doing this is the chance, the small but promising chance that the victim might be alive.

“How long was it on?”

“Not sure, but it was turned on about 2 hours ago and then shut off, must’ve died,” She types a string of letters and another tab pops up, “this is the address.” Promptly, the printer in the corner of the room spits out the paper with the address and she rolls her chair over to it.

“If she’s anywhere, here is your best bet.”

The room is filled with men in black gear, heavy leather boots, and guns on their hips. When Minho gives the word, they all pile into the van and Minho gets in the backseat of his car—he tells the driver to wait before pulling out.

“Shit,” He lets out a deep sigh, dress-shirt feeling too tight on his neck. “he brought this on his self, he brought this on his damn self and he didn’t give me any other choice, right?”

Jimin sits beside him, nodding his head in agreement. “Absolutely, he can’t blame you for this, he knows the price of the job,”

“Doesn’t make it any easier, out of everyone, he was the last person I thought would pull something like this, I still don’t fully believe it-”

“Well,” Jimin interjects, making a thoughtful expression, “maybe he did kill the target and he’s just being hush-hush about it, the girl could’ve put up a fight or- I don’t know, anything could have happened.”

“Maybe,” He takes out his phone, pressing a contact, “but I’m going to give him one more chance,” Waiting for a few seconds, deep down inside he hopes Taehyung will answer. Sadly, the call goes to voicemail and he sets the phone down and sighs, there’s nothing else he can do.

“He didn’t answer, he’s buying time,” Jimin confirms the inevitable, “he knows what he’s doing, it’s best we confront him now.”

Minho pats the back of the driver's chair. “Go ahead.”

He was plundering through the drawers when he found your cellphone stacked on a small pile of books. Assuming he’d be able to wipe it, he tucked is into the little bag along with a few of the books he knew you liked to read. Packing up this stuff reminds him of the night he took you from your house, the night that changed his life. It had been after so much time watching you, learning our lifestyle. He knows now that if he had a chance to learn all of that about you in a different circumstance, like as friend that would slowly morph into something more, he’d take that chance.

The buzzing of his phone pulls him from his thoughts, thinking it was Minho again, he was about to ignore it, but he peeks at the screen to see that it’s Yeosang. Quickly, he answers the call and presses the phone to his ear.

“Hey, I’ve got some good news and some bad news. Good news, the condo is in your name and ready to go. The bad news is, the flights have been delayed due to bad weather, it’s about a 2-hour delay, could be more.”

“Shit, that would happen,” Taehyung presses his temples, “how close are you?’

“About 45 minutes? Something like that. Do you want me to get her to the airport and you drive separately or do you want me to-”

“If you pick her up that’ll be fine but I was hoping for both of us to get out of here sooner than that,” He zips up the backpack and leaves the room with the flick of the light, “Minho tried to call me and I didn’t answer, he knows something,”

“I want to help you guys,” Yeosang stresses, “maybe you could drive all the way and take a flight from a city further down.”

“That might work if I leave right now,” Taehyung mentally flips through his options and the possibilities are starting to grow slimmer in his mind, “you know what, listen out for me, I need to get her ready. I’ll call you back when we’re in route.”

Taking the little bag with him, he goes downstairs and searches for his computer, but he realizes it’s packed away. He was going to see if there were any loose strings that he might now have noticed.

That’s when he hears a heavy knock on the door. He stands frozen, waiting for a second knock. There is a second knock and a booming voice from the other side.

“Kim! I know you’re in there.”

it’s too late, he’s here. Without a second to lose, he runs down to the basement where you’re peacefully admiring your first painting.

All of a sudden, he hugs you and the painting falls from your grasp, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, he’s here,” He goes to turn off the light and you pick up the painting down to put it back, barely registering what he’s saying, “you need to hide while I buy us some time.”

“Wha- What? No, I want to stay with you,” Your hands are shaking and you feel like you’re getting that sick feeling again—this can’t be happening. “Tae, don’t leave me, what if something happens to you?-”

“Shh, it’ll be okay, I need you to hide under here,” He guides you over to the tiny space under the staircase, gesturing for you to kneel down. You do as he says and he kneels in front of you, every fiber in his body telling him to stay by your side, but he knows he can’t. He holds you in a warm embrace as if it was the last time, he always does it like it’s the last time. “It’s okay, just stay here.”

With that, you’re left in the pitch-black basement, curled up under the stairs, and wishing this was all just a bad dream. But the sound of the front door opening gives you the confirmation that this is your worst nightmare coming to life.

He opened the door a few minutes ago, Minho and Jimin had pushed past him to get inside, about ten suited-up guys follow and the door slammed on there way in. With little struggle, they had Taehyung sit on the couch while Minho paced in front of him as his team tears the place apart.

“I didn’t want to do this to you.” That’s the first thing Minho says.

“I can see that,” Tae responds plainly.

“You brought this upon yourself you know,” Minho stands in front of him, hands in his pockets with a cold glare on his face, “whatever the hell you were trying to do, it’s over now.”

Taehyung stays quiet, pissing Minho off even more.

“Do you know what you’ve done to this organization? We’re on the radar because you took that woman. Now the cops are involved, they’re onto us and they won’t stop until they find her. Why choose to go rogue now? Your contract ends in a year and you decide to spend it ruining your reputation? Out of everyone in the company, you were the last person I thought I’d have to worry about, you were my absolute best, and now that’s all gone to hell,” He bites his bottom-lip, getting impatient with Taehyung’s unchanging demeanor, “do you even care?”

He just stares at him blankly.

“Nothing upstairs,” About three guys come from downstairs.

“Downstairs is clear,” The others emerge from the other parts of the house, also empty-handed, "no signs of a body or that anyone else was living here sir-”

“Check again!” Minho snaps, kicking the coffee table across the room with a loud curse, “Look outside, tear the damn place apart if you have to, she has to be somewhere.”

He goes on and on, going red in the face he’s so livid, Taehyung was his favorite. The fussing becomes a bit repetitive to Jimin, so he decides to go off and do his own search, that’s when Tae gets truly nervous for the first time, Jimin has a knack for finding the unsuspecting.

Footsteps can be heard throughout the entire house. You only flinch when you hear a loud thump, like a table being thrown or broken against the wall. You brace yourself, placing your hands on your ears until the footsteps cease. You breathe in and out shallowly, trying to listen for Taehyung. You haven’t heard him once, not one sound.

Your heart drops when you hear the high pitched squeak of the basement door opening. Light slips into the darkroom. Heavy footsteps on the stair-well reverberate against your ears.

He’s a painter? He would be, wouldn’t he? A man mumbles to himself. Peeking from behind the wooden beam that’s shielding you, you see a man with shiny black hair looking at your paintings. You close your eyes and cover your mouth, tears pricking at your eyes from the sheer suspense of it all. Your body is shaking, sweating and the need to gasp for more air becomes critical to your sanity. But you hold it in, you block out the rapid heartbeat pounding against your rib-cage.

“Where are you...” He speaks clearer now as if he knows you’re here as if he knows you’re trying to block him out. Eyes squeezed shut, your curl in on yourself, trying so hard not to make a sound. His footsteps become louder, his shadow appears on the wall opposite of you like a lurking monster, seeking to cause you nothing but terror. In contrast, he hums a little song softly.

If you close your eyes, he’ll go away, just close your eyes and he’ll go away.

“There you are,” You look straight at him and your fight or flight kicks in. You try to make a run for it but he easily grabs you, “hey! Stop- Stop fighting, I’m not gonna hurt you! Calm down-”

You scream but he clamps a hand over your mouth. Squirming violently, you try to bite his hand but he removes it before you can. He fights to drag you upstairs as you cry out for help. “Let go of me!”

When Taehyung hears your cries, all that goes through his mind is that he has to be with you. He darts past Minho to get to you but one of the guys tackle him to the ground. He calls out to you anyway, “I’m here! Y/n, it’s okay,”

Minho’s thrown off by what he thinks is a loving tone, “Keep him down.” He orders the men as he waits for the squealing female to be brought to him.

“Here she is, found her hiding under the staircase,” Jimin emerges with a smile and a red scratch on his brow courtesy of you, “she is very much alive.” He drops you on the ground in front of Minho. On your hands and knees and you look up with weary eyes.

“Oh Taehyung, you’ve been hiding her this entire time, you lied to me,” He kneels in front of your trembling form, head tilted and a hand reaching out to cup your jaw, “she is a pretty little thing, I get it. But if you wanted to keep her, why didn't you just say so? That could have been arranged,” You jerk away, “I just never thought you were the type to want toys like this.”

“That’s not what this is, she’s not a sexual object,” The men pull Tae to his feet and he finally sees you, on the ground, paralyzed with uncertainty, “I’ve been protecting her from you.”

“When have you ever protected a target from me? You take the job, I never force you to take a fucking job, Kim. This is your fault because you missed her and then had to go back to the job, then you watched her for too long and got attached, the very thing I warned you about that when you first joined.”

You look back at Taehyung, searching for some type of comfort in his eyes, but you’re stalled by the painful sting in your scalp, “Ow!-”

“This woman?” He fists your hair, pulling you to your feet. You grasp his wrist to try to loosen his grip but it only tightens, sending a burn down your back tears to your eyes. It’s deliberate torture for Taehyung to watch because he can’t do anything about it.

“This fucking woman should have been dead, and since you fucked everything up, I have to take care of her myself. But I don’t get it, you’ve killed dozens before, she shouldn’t have been a problem, but you got obsessed and she just had to be yours, didn’t she? That’s pathetic.” He shakes his head, disappointed.

“Do you not remember? You signed the contract for 7 years, you don’t get to experience real love in this job, and you know that better than anyone. How could anyone love you after what you’ve done? You’ve told me that countless times, what’s with the sudden change in heart?”

Taehyung looks away for the first time, it’s all true, when Tae signed the contract, he was sure he’d never have to worry about being attached to anyone. He didn’t love anyone, and no one loved him or ever could, so the job was perfect. No worried messages from a mother, disappointing looks from a father— if he has no one, there’s no one to disappoint, no one to secretly hate him. He ruled out the possibility that someone would ever want to love him, truly love him. Then came you and he loved, he was loved.

“She doesn’t deserve to this, she doesn’t deserve to die. She didn’t do anything wrong,” Taehyung looks into in your eyes, trying to communicate to you, trying to think of a way to get out of here, “I swear, if you touch her-”

“Don’t give me that shit, you’ve killed all kinds of people, good, bad and in between, what makes her any different?-”

His sentence is cut short when Taehyung suddenly jerks against the men holding him and he gets free. He gets a hold of the gun and points it at Minho. Your hair is released but the man now holds you with an arm anchored around your neck.

“Let her go,” Taehyung takes short strides towards you two as the barrel of the gun stays square to Minho’s forehead, “you know I’m a straight shot, I could kill you right now,” He cocks the gun, the action making you shutter, “get your hands off of her.”

“You won’t do it,” Minho is already holding it to your head, arm secured around your neck. “if you kill me, you kill her, that’s not what you want,” He shoves the barrel against your scalp and you bite your lip hard to stop from sobbing. “I will kill her if I have to, then this will all be over. But if you put that gun down, and do exactly what I say, she stays alive, I promise.”

“Tae- Taehyung,” You manage to choke out, clawing at Minho’s arms frantically, “please-” He tightens his grip on your poor neck and that’s when Taehyung raises his hands in surrender and he’s immediately brought to his knees.

“Alright! Just stop, stop! She can’t fucking breathe! Please,” As soon as they take the gun, Minho throws you on the hard floor and you gasp for air, coughing violently as you brace on your hands and knees, “do what you want with me, just don’t hurt her.”

“Huh,” He groans, clicking his teeth in contemplation, “since you are my favorite and you’ll probably never see her again, why don’t you give her some love before you go? I’ll give you that at least.”

Taehyung down looks at you then at Minho. “What?”

“I’m giving you a chance to say goodbye,” Minho nudges you with his hand, making you flinch, “hurry up before I change my mind.”

The men are still holding him, his arms behind his back. He bites back tears as you sit frozen, mirroring his pained expression. “Y/n, it’s okay,” He calls for you, pulling against the retrains, “come here, baby,” You begin to crawl over to him, but you’re still hesitant to get near the people holding him, “let go! What the fuck do think I’m gonna do?!-”

“Let’m go, he won’t do anything stupid.”

Once he’s freed, he cocoons you in his arms, his body is warm and his energy is calm as he cradles you close. Minho stops to observe a version of Taehyung he has never witnessed before. He’s on his knees, holding you to his chest as you cling to him. Your knuckles must be white from how hard you’re gripping his shirt. Your eyes are squeezed shut, you’re shaking, petrified with the thought of never feeling this again. You can’t live like that, you could die without this. “T-Tae, don’t let them t- take me, don’t let them take me-...” You hiccup through your sobs, holding on to the little bit of affection that might be the last.

“Shh, I’ll fix this,” He whispers just low enough for you to hear, “I promise...”

You feel his hand go to your hair and he pulls your head back to bring your lips to his—you can’t live without this. He parts his lips, kissing you as if you two were the only ones in the room, as if you’re in bed, heart-to-heart, feeling loved. Shamelessly, you push against him for more and you can taste your tears, are those your tears and his tears?

“My God,” Minho tucks the gun back in its holster with a scoff, “from the looks of it, you’d think he actually loves her.” Minho makes a thoughtful expression, smirking down at Tae who’s resting his head on your shoulder as you hold him tight. He signals at Jimin who’s watching the scene with interest, “Okay, that’s enough.”

The embrace is broken when you’re ripped away and Taehyung is tackled to the ground with loud cursing. You let out heartwrenching sobs, eyes glazing over with sheer horror, “No! Please! I’ll do anything, I won’t say anything about this I swear! Just don’t do this, please!”

Minho dismisses you entirely, more interested in Tae’s reaction. “That’s all it takes?” Minho walks over to him, laughing when Jimin and another guy struggling to hold him back, “Years of training and killing, and it only takes her to break you?”

“Go to hell.”

Minho shakes his head with a sigh, pitying him. “Put her in the car.”

Yoongi is in the car with two other officers ready to give the signal any time now. He knows something is going on but whatever happens, he’s determined to get you home safe. When he looks into the house from the car he sees a shadow pass the front window.

He holds the button on the com. “We’re moving in now.”

It was a blur when it all happened. You were crying and being dragged away from when the door burst open. Officers stormed the house. Guns go off and your ears ring painfully. They rush in and so many people are everywhere—your oasis, your little paradise is being made a battleground. You cry when the man holding you bumped into a vase and drops you near it. He flees out the back door, but you’re frozen, everything is in disarray but the one person you do see is Taehyung who’s being handcuffed along with so many others. He mouths something but you can’t make it out. He shakes his head, you don’t know what he’s saying, what is he trying to say?

“I’ve got her, she’s here!” A man is yelling to the others, you didn’t register he was kneeling beside you.

“Y/n, we’re here to help you, you’re safe now,” He moves to block your view from what’s happening behind him. You don’t verbally respond, but your eyes are teary, breathing rapid, lips trembling.

“She’s hurt! I’m taking her out.”

You’re having derealization episode, or a panic attack, or both. You might be looking at him, but you’re acting like you don’t know where you are, you’re not even aware of the wound on your leg.

Who is this man?”

“Who are you?...” You speak for the first time, and you pear at him with wavering eye-contact, his eyes look kind.

“Yoongi. I’m going to pick you up, is that okay?” You nod after he wraps your leg tightly with his jacket, he lifts you into his arms and carries out of the house.

You can’t see Taehyung, you don’t know where they took him. Yoongi notices how you twist in his arms to look behind him, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone or something, he doesn’t know. All you see are a bunch of officers and Minho’s people being cuffed and shuffled into squad cars.

You’re taken past all of the squad cars and put you in the back seat of a black SUV and Yoongi disappears. A woman kneels down to tend to your leg, when did your leg start bleeding? You frown down at her when she cuts you pant-leg, tossing the denim to the ground, she notices instantly.

“My name is Chloe, sweetheart. I’m a paramedic, I just need to stop the bleeding until you can get stitches,” Her lips are moving, you know they are but you have no idea what she’s saying.

She mumbles to the man beside her, an EMT, give her the shock blanket. With a small nod, the man scurries off and returns with a silver tarp-like material and wraps it around you with gentle hands.

That man called Yoongi comes back and he’s talking on the phone with someone, he pushes back his middle-parted black hair and gets in the passenger's seat. Chloe finishes wrapping your leg and gently puts your legs in the vehicle, hooks you in your seat-belt, and promptly closing the door to seal you inside. This is too much, this wasn’t supposed to happen, this wasn’t supposed to happen. You start heaving, hand on your chest and body rocking back and forth to soothe yourself. They think they’re saving you, they’re not saving you.

They’re tearing everything apart.

“Wait one second,” Yoongi moves the phone from his ear and looks back at you, the color has left your face completely. Your hands are shaking and it feels like there’s a heater right in front of your face.

Yoongi reaches his hand back to get you to calm down but you don’t even look at him, your stomach aches all too much for you to acknowledge him. “Y/n, breathe, okay? You have to take deep breaths and calm down, you’re safe-”

You kick the door open and you’re expelling any food you had left in your stomach on the curb.

He sighs, quickly unbuckling his seat-belt to, “I’ll call you back,”

“We brought her to the infirmary,” Yoongi paces outside of the room, “looks like the place was being ransacked when we got here, we don’t know who the culprit is but the most important thing is that she’s safe now. When the doctor thinks she can undergo questioning, I’ll head over.”

“Good. The other officers arrived not too long ago, a majority of them won’t talk but they’ll stay in holding until you get back,” Eunwoo pauses, “how’s she doing? Is she all there, are there any signs of abuse?”

Yoongi sighs, taking a seat on the bench. “Don’t know yet, she hasn’t talked much. I don’t know if we should do the questioning today but I’ll talk to her after the doctor talks to me,”

“Alright, let me know when you’re headed over.”

It smells so sterile, you want to throw up again but you settle for staring at the nurse who just finished bandaging the stitches. When she leaves, another woman comes in.

“Y/n, how are you feeling?” She adjusts her glasses, getting a little closer when you don’t respond. “Everything is happening so fast, yeah? I can’t say I know what you’ve been through, but I know you're probably overwhelmed.”

You nod.

“I won’t bombard you with a bunch of questions, I’m just here to make sure you’re physically okay. Your vitals are good but is there anything going on with your body that you might be concerned about?”

You shake your head no, not maintaining eye-contact by any means—she notes that.

“Okay, do you mind if I check to make sure everything's okay? I’ll need your consent to do a full-body exam and I’ll have a chaperone with me, but if you’re not comfortable with that, I 100% understand.” Again, you nod with a small yes when she asks for verbal confirmation. She puts on some gloves before instructing you to sit on the edge of the bed and she goes to get a young woman in sky-blue scrubs.

He’s been waiting for about an hour and he stands to his feet when the woman comes out of the room with a clipboard.

“How is she?”

She holds the clipboard to her chest with a sigh. “We finished the physical exam, and there are no signs of sexual abuse or physical abuse, she’s quite healthy considering. As far as her mental health goes, it’s hard to tell right now. She’s obviously really overwhelmed by everything, this is probably going to be a trauma that she lives with for a while, she’ll need a psychiatric evaluation. I know you’re apart of the investigation but if you want to question her, talk to her to see how she feels about it first.” She walks off to the nurse's station but turns to say one more thing.

“You know, I heard about her in the newspaper, her news publisher has a whole story on her. Thank God she’s alive, not all stories end so fortunately.”

Yoongi walks past her and into the room quietly, you look up at him and then down at your hands.

“Do you feel a little better?” He walks to your bedside, eyes drifting down to your bandaged leg.

“H-...How did you find me?...”

“We’ve been looking for you nonstop. Today we were finally able to track your cellphone, we only hoped you’d be at that location. It’s been 8 months since the day you were reported missing, and for 8 months I’ve made finding you my main priority.”

You furrow your brows, looking at him as if he were speaking a foreign language. “It’s been 8 months?...”

“I know a lot is going on but we need some answers from you. I understand if you’re feeling up to it, but would you be able to come with me and answer some questions for us at the police station? If you don’t feel up to it then-”

“I’ll do it..” You answer too quickly.

Just like that, you’re at the police station sitting across from Yoongi and the officer over the investigation, officer Cha Eunwoo. They gave you a glass of water and you’ve chugged it down. You’re so jittery, your mind is everywhere.

“Y/n, do you know why you were kidnapped?” Eunwoo comes back with another cup of water and you watch him sit back down.

“I was told it was because of a politician who had it arranged that I be killed...

Yoongi writes something down and you swallow, wondering what he’s writing down.

“The house you were rescued from, is that where you’ve been living?”

“Yes...But-” You bite your lip, tears welling up in your eyes, “...I’m not hurt, the person I was with kept me safe, the man I was with, he's not the bad guy...”

The two of them look at each other puzzled, then at you. They question whether they heard that correctly.

“Who? Y/n,” Yoongi begins softly, “are you saying you were being protected?” You nod, pout ever so present on your lips. “Who was protecting you?”

You bite your lip, stopping yourself from saying his name, you shouldn’t say his name. They don’t know who he is yet, and maybe there’s a chance he’ll get out of this. As your mind reels, the two of them watch you, teary eyes laser-focused on the black bracelet on your wrist.

“Can you tell me who was with you in that house?” Yoongi asks again but you won’t look at him now. “Was it multiple people, or just that one person?”

You press your lips, nodding subtly. “It was multiple people?” You shake your head. “So it was just him,” He glances up from his notepad and you don’t indicate an answer, so he takes that as a yes, “did you ever leave the house?”

Eunwoo stands to his feet, stirring curiosity from you and Yoongi. “Min, can we have a word in private?”

Albeit confused, Yoongi nods, following the officer out into the other side of the two-way mirror where the other officers are.

“The hell? She was just giving us some good information.”

“Let me take this over, we have about a dozen people and we need to identify and interrogate all of them. But right now, we need the man who did this to her, that’s all.”

“She might not respond well to that, she’s obviously troubled, the pressure isn’t going to help.” Yoongi glances at you from the corner of his eye. “I think she trusts me a little more, so I should finish this.”

“I’ve interrogated hundreds of victims before, I think I can handle this. You can step in if she gets irate.” Yoongi can already sense how there’s an obvious shift in your demeanor when you notice that Yoongi’s isn’t accompanying him.

“Y/n, what happened to you was not your fault, but the person who did it needs to be dealt with. You were kidnapped, held hostage against your will, and no matter what that person might have told you, there are people who care about you that have been looking for you. You’re a victim and the person who did this to you will not get away with it. The man who had you and multiple others killed is already in our custody, he stands trial tomorrow. Now, we just need to get the others. Can you help us do that?”

You look at the one-way mirror. “Where’s the other guy, Yoongi, why didn’t he come back?...”

He evades the question. “Did he ever tell you his name?” Eunwoo glances at the one-way mirror before softening his tone. “Y/n, do you know his name?”

You frown, looking down at the bracelet on your wrist. “Does my family know I’m here?...”

“Y/n, we are going to let your family know but you have to realize what’s going on here. Senator Leu, who is standing trial today, hired someone to have you killed, but they didn’t kill you and we need to know why. Is he threatening you?... Is that why you won’t tell us anything?”

You swallow, throat feeling incredibly dry, face heating up. You chug down the second glass of water, it only cooled you down for just a moment.

Yoongi watches with a trained eye. You having to talk to Eunwoo alone was not a good idea. Gathering that this interrogation is going to end pretty soon, he decides to go ahead and contact your family.

“I don’t feel well,” You blink slowly, handing going to your stomach, “can I get some more water?...”

“Sure,” He can’t deny you water, but he knows when someone is avoiding questions, “but before I get that, I need you to tell me who did this to you.”

You look at him and like a rehearsed scene, you queue the tears. The discomfort on Minho’s face indicates the foolish decision he made to interrogate you alone.

“Y/n,” He looks you over and wonders why you keep messing with the black bracelet on your wrist, “that’s a nice bracelet, is it yours?”

Wiping your tears, you scramble for an answer, “Yes, it’s-...It’s mine.”

“So, if we ran a DNA test on it, the only prints on it would be yours?... Or, was this bracelet given to you by someone, maybe by the man who had you all this time?”

You lower your head onto the table and cover your face with your arms, Yoongi presses his temples—you’re not budging, but Eunwoo insists. In the meantime, he decides to step in the hall and make a few calls to your job, family, and friends.

“Why does it matter!?” You snap, eyes burning red. “It’s mine and if you want it, you’ll have to pry it off of my dead body, I won’t let you take it off for anything, it has nothing to do with this...”

“You’re making this harder than it has to be, you know that, don’t you?” He reaches into his pocket and holds a fist in front if you.

“Remember this? Suzy said you wouldn’t be caught dead without it, but it was on the floor in your house. Is that bracelet just as special as this?” He opens his hand and there sits your favorite necklace, the one your parents gifted you years ago. As much as you love that necklace, this bracelet is just as special, it’s a piece of Taehyung.

You ball your fist, tears welling at your eyes, you don’t care. “Just leave me alone, I don’t wanna talk anymore...”

He sits on the uncomfortable steel bench, arms cuffed behind him. It’s dark, cold, and dreary, but the interior of this place is the least of his worries. He’s never been on this side of the bars, despite deserving it. The gate slides open suddenly, Taehyung can feel the guard's presence but he doesn’t bother looking up.

“Come with me.”

Without a word, he obliged, picking up his feet with heavy strides. The guard holds his arm tight, leading him through the halls to find interrogation room 12.

“Is interrogation room 12 open?” The guard talks to the officer standing at one of the many rooms lining the hall. The two of them strike up a conversation but Taehyung is listening to the conversation down the hall.

“She’s alright, I called her job and her mother, and Jin,” Yoongi paces, peeking down the hall to see the third culprit brought in for questioning, “there will be a lot of happy people when they find out she’s okay.”

“That’s great, I’m glad, I know the last case you had didn’t go this well,” Jungkook flips through the phony contracts that his recent client was given to sign, “I’m about to leave the firm so I’ll have to call you tomorrow, but if you need me to help with the case just let me know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Yoongi bids him farewell and slips the phone in his pocket. The lawyer had helped a lot in the last missing person case Yoongi was involved in, the victim was in rough shape. It was a young woman kidnapped by an ex, it wasn’t a pretty outcome. The shape they found her in will always be ingrained in his memory, it haunts him that he couldn’t get to her sooner.

Yoongi walks down the hall and Taehyung watches him. He tries to do it in a subtle way, but that’s the man that carried you out of his home while he was being cuffed and pushed into the back of a cop car. Anger bubbled in his chest, the inability to call out to you, to take you into his arms, it hurt him to his core.

Yoongi spares him a glance before going back into the one-way mirrors viewing room and the door closes, preventing him from seeing inside any further. You’re a wreck. It only takes a few seconds for Yoongi to see you balling your eyes out as Eunwoo paces around you to barge in there to put a stop to it.

“I know you’re scared but you need to stop covering for that Man. You’re safe, he can’t hurt you now-”

“Hey,” Yoongi looks at him as if he’s grown a second head, he whispers, “stop, she’s completely shutting down. She needs to be physiologically evaluated before we finish this, look at her,” He gestures to you who’s trembling, breathing hitched with our inability to stop crying, “we can’t do this right now.”

He sighs, pulling Yoongi to a corner, “I’m sorry, I just, I hate to know that somebody did this to her and she won’t say anything, her Stockholm syndrome is on another level.”

“The owner of that house had to be the one who did it, just go to the research lab and they should be able to tell you. I’m taking her to the Melody’s Heart temporary safe house until her family can pick her up tomorrow.”

“Okay, I’m going to step out for a minute.” With that, Eunwoo leaves the room. it takes Yoongi talking you down for about 2 minutes to finally get you to stand up and walk with him. You sniffle, rubbing your eyes as Yoongi walks you out of the room and into the hall.

Taehyung is right there.

Your eyes widen and your gait slows, he’s right in front of you. Yet, the only thing connecting you is your gaze, this can’t be all there is left of your love. Yoongi leads you down the hall and you pull against him slightly. He notices your staring and that when the pieces come together. That’s him.

“Open room 12, officer Cha wants to have him interrogated separately.”

Taehyung watches you disappear, he can’t say anything and he can’t do anything. He gets pushed into the room and into a hard steel chair.

It’s sunset, they drove you about 20 minutes away somewhere, you weren't sure. A woman opened the front door to a huge house, and Yoongi opened your car door, helping you out with a hand. He walked by your side and went inside with you to sign some papers. The woman was kind, she had curly brown hair she was speaking to you with the softest tone. She kept saying you were strong, why was she saying that? With Yoongi lingering behind you, the woman that you know now as Melody takes you to a bedroom on the first level of the house. She said they prepared the room for you, there was even a change of clothes with toiletries on the bed.

“Can I get you anything, sweetheart? You’re our only resident tonight, so I’m all yours.” She’s nice but you don’t feel like company, you don’t feel like looking at any more new faces. You shake your head and she nods in understanding,

“Alright, then I’ll be here if you need anything, Mr. Min, I’m sorry but officers are actually not allowed in the bedrooms of the residents-”

“I’m not an officer, I helped with the case,” He turns to her so you can’t see his face and speaks lowly, “I just need to talk to her for a few minutes, I won’t be long.”

“Alright, just let me know when you’re headed out.” She leaves from standing in the doorway and cracks the door and she heads to the surveillance room that doubles as a bedroom for her.

“Do you want to bathe? I’ll leave if so and we can talk after.” You’ve kicked your shoes off, crawled to the edge of the queen size mattress and curled on your side facing the window. “So, I talked to your parents and they’ll be heading here tomorrow but Jin will probably be here first,”

”Jin?” You sit up, wondering why your ex-boyfriend has anything to do with this. “Why?...”

“He hired me to look for you, he’s the reason I got involved in your case.” Yoongi keeps a safe distance, the little camera hidden behind the plant reminds him of the high-security this place has. “Out of everyone, he called the most, almost every day to get updates about you.”

For a moment, you wonder if he has the correct Kim SeokJin. Because the last encounter you two had was so brief, it was a run-in at the grocery and you two talked about your jobs. It was really adult-like of you, you picked out potatoes as you picked up small-talk with an old flame. But there was no romantic love left, that boat had sailed a long time ago and your brief love for wine replaced it. He’s always cared about you, but you never thought he would be waiting for you.

“I have to go but I’ll be back in the morning, do you need anything before I go?” You shake your head, not wanting to be around him or anyone else any longer. It’s too much, it’s too much for you to handle all at one time and you just want to go to sleep. Maybe you’ll wake up, and this will all be a bad dream, and you’ll be in his arms. He said he would fix this, how is he going fix this?...

Yeosang waited for hours, he called Taehyung at least five times and he has yet to get a response. Something went wrong. In efforts to figure this out, he drove all the way from the meet-up spot to Tae’s house. He could tell the place had been intruded on, Tae never leaves his car outside of the garage at night. He pulls into the driveway, right beside the smokey black Audi R8. This isn’t like him to have gotten caught. The passports were ready, the new house was waiting, everything would have gone fine had the flight been earlier. He has to admit, he was looking forward to giving his good friends a chance at a happy life. He only met you once, but the way Tae talks about you, you two are clearly in love. If he knows Taehyung at all, he’ll receive a call in at least a few hours about what happened. He has to come out of this, that’s what Yeosang chants in his mind.

“So you own the house,” Eunwoo paces, coffee in flimsy Styrofoam cup as he takes a seat across from the culprit, “Kim Taehyung.”

Taehyung acknowledges him with a disinterested glance before staring down at the steel table separating them. He wonders if you’re still in the building, they were taking you away, but where were they taking you? After he was cuffed, he saw Minho’s men get cuffed but Minho and Jimin were gone. If he knows Minho at all, he’ll be back.

“Don’t you hear me talking to you?” Minho hits the table, causing Taehyung to finally looking at him. “Look, for some reason your record is clean. But if we find out that you were involved in any of these murders and this kidnapping, you’re looking at a hefty sentence. Just admit it, you saw a pretty, successful girl living all alone and you thought, why not take her? Are you threatening her, is that why she won’t reveal you?”

“There’s not a scratch on her, does it look like I threatened her?” Taehyung speaks for the first time, the very insinuation that the nature of this kidnapping was to harm you made him sick.

“So, you did it then?” He affirms.

Taehyung shrugs, expression too nonchalant for Eunwoo’s liking. “You know what, wipe that smug look off your face-”

“Cha,” Jaemin opens the door without warning.

“What?” He snaps. “Don’t you see I’m in the middle of something?”

“The chief wants to talk to you, he says it pertains to this case.”

With a resent glare at Taehyung, Eunwoo leaves the room with urgency. Jaemin, however, stays in the doorway, eyes fixated on the acclaimed Hwan Group member that he’s heard so much about from Minho. Kim Taehyung, his record is so clean, he doesn’t have so much as a parking violation on him. If he didn’t know who he was, Taehyung would fly under the radar in his book, he’s that convincing.

“What do you want?” Tae scrutinizes the man, eyes scanning him up and down.

“So you’re Kim Taehyung,” Jaemin closes the door with a soft click, “you really fucked this one up, it’s a shame too, Minho said you were the best. You ruined your record all for that woman-”

“Where did they take her?”

“That doesn’t really matter, let’s just hope Minho can work something out for you, he’s pissed right now,” He shakes his head in and ‘tsk, tsk’ way, “had you just done your job, you and that poor woman wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“She was crying when I saw her, what did they do to her?” He shifts in his chair. “Fucking answer me.”

“Look, stay quiet and you might get out of this alive, that’s all I can say,” And that’s all he says before quickly exiting the room, leaving Taehyung isolated in the cold room, head hung back against the chair. He’s tapping his foot, rhythmically, he’s jittery, anxious with thoughts about you. He promised he would fix this, how can he fix this when it’s so obvious that he’s got the least amount of control in this situation? Hold on Y/n, hold on.

Eunwoo rushes to the Chief's office and without a knock on the cracked door. he steps inside. He closes the door, “Chief, Jaemin said you wanted to see me?-...”

“Hello, Captain Cha.”

“Who are you? Where’s the Chief?“

“My name is Lee Minho, I’m sure you’ve heard my organization, the Hwan group. I know the chief and there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding here. The man you have in custody is a member and he’s only here because he made a mistake and my informant didn’t tell me who was on this case. You know of the Hwan group, the Chief has mentioned you and how you’ve dismissed some cases in compliance with the partnership we have.”

“This is really an HG case?” Minho nods. “The Chief never told me anything about dismissing this case. There were multiple murders and kidnapping, that’s not the typical HG favor.”

“That’s because the man assigned to the job often does high-profile jobs but stays under the radar. Unfortunately, he didn’t follow the instructions of the job. It was a multiple person execution but he had to go back and get that woman because he missed her. He led me to believe that she was dead but I found out recently that he’s been hiding her from me. I went to his house to confront him and here we are.”

“But the pardons I’ve made have never been for HG jobs that involved things like this. He murdered innocent people-”

“My organization has helped get rid of a lot of bad people and my people have worked in situations where cops just aren’t trained in. They get the job done if they chose to take it, no questions asked. Anyone who’s willing to pay can seek my group for help. They’re pawns, and Taehyung was one of my best. He takes a job and he does it, no sentiments attached. But for this woman, I don’t know,” He shakes his head at the thought, “he just couldn’t do it and that messed up everything, his reputation is screwed. Now I’m here trying to clean up his mess, a little. I’m sure you’ve spoken with our middleman, Na Jaemin, he was supposed to monitor this case to ensure things didn’t end up like this. But since it couldn’t be helped, I’m here to propose a deal.”

“Okay, what kind of deal? Because someone has to pay for this,” Eunwoo paces, “her disappearance has been televised and in the articles, she was a writer, people knew of her work from her publisher and they've been anticipating her return for months. We can’t just say she’s been found and then not give them any more than that. People will want to know where she’s been and who took her. Someone has to be held responsible other than Leu.”

“No, that’s not entirely true. We can arrange a cover story and Taehyung can be released to me.” He reasons. “And the girl stays free.”

“What about justice for her? She’s been-”

“Trust me, she’s not happy about this ‘rescue,’ it’s not what you think, she loves him.” Minho recalls the act of affection you two shared and how you pleaded to stay by his side, “I’m sure there are some psychological factors but at the end of the day, they are romantically involved, that’s probably why she’s so apprehensive to say anything, she doesn't want to say anything that might ruin her chances of seeing him again.”

“Woah...wait, I don’t think this is a consensual relationship if it were, why wouldn’t she say anything about is?”

He shrugs, “Doesn’t really matter at this point, here’s what needs to happen; I’ll take Taehyung back because he’s still under contract for a full year after this year ends, he has a job to do. In exchange, I’ll set up the cover story and the two of them can never make contact again, how does that sound?”

“Hm,” He takes a moment to consider the possibility of something going wrong, “them not making contact would put him in the clear and isolate her from any association with the group. That sounds foolproof but what if they don’t agree? If they’re together like you say, who’s to say she won’t rat on the group or he won’t try to find her anyway? I don’t see how we can get her to go back to her regular life.”

“She’ll never go back to her regular life, not really. I’ve known Kim for years, he’s not a monster but that doesn't change the fact that she was kidnapped, isolated from society for months and all she had was him. We’ll have to tell her what’s going on of course, but I doubt she’ll squeal if it means putting him in prison. They’ve said their goodbyes, it’s not a love story to be salvaged anyway. He doesn’t have a family he has very few friends and he has a ton of money, a huge house in a nice part of town, he’s got everything.”

“What if he refuses?”

Taehyung broke under the hand of a thing like you, the idea that he is emotionally impenetrable is long gone. Minho straightens the collar of his dress shirt and leaves the room to go deliver the news. “He doesn’t need her, his job doesn’t allow for distractions like her, and he knew that when he signed up; he’ll get over it.”

The door creaks and he expected it to be one of those officers, but Minho emerges with a guard who quickly walks over to take off the cuffs. Aside from the guard who just scurried out, Minho isn’t accompanied by anyone and he doesn’t look like he’s seen two seconds in a pair of handcuffs. He knew his boss had connections in high places but he never imagines it was to this extent.

“I am upset with you, Taehyung,” Minho circles around the chair, hands on the back of it, “you don’t know the strings I’ve had to pull to keep this quiet. What were you thinking? You knew the job, but you deliberately put your self in harm's way when you decided to hide her from me.”

“Had I told you she was alive, would you not have tried to kill her?” His tone bites.

“Probably, but it doesn’t matter what I would have done, you were supposed to do it.” He stresses. “I didn’t take the job Taehyung, you did.”

Tae diminishes a bit, the guilt of it all coming to the forefront of his mind. At the end of the day, no matter how many people actually wanted to harm you, he’s the one that signed up to do it. And it hurts, it hurts because he loves you, you love him and he doesn’t deserve if, but he wants it more than anything.

“Where is she?”

“I think they took her to some safe home, she got hurt but she got medical attention for her injuries. Now that she’s taken care of, I’m getting you out of here. I arranged a deal with the chief and it gets you out of this mess scotch free.”

“Okay...What’s the catch?” He knows there’s a catch, there always is.

“Your contract isn’t up, you have a little over a year left with the organization and despite how frustrated I am with you, you’re good at your job. You have to finish your contract.”

“And if I choose not to?” He asks daringly.

“If you choose not to, any immunity you have from the law because of the organization goes away, that will most likely land you in prison. But if you finish, your record stays clean.”

Tae doesn’t have to weigh his options to make a decision, but Minho hasn’t mentioned you. “What about Y/n? Will she be safe under this deal?”

“Of course, a cover-up story is arranged and she gets to go back to her everyday life,” He grins, “everyone's happy.”

A glimmer of hope comes to his eyes. “Then I can be with her, and no one will know about the kidnapping?”

“Oh, no. She’s staying here and you’re being transferred to the Europe division of the organization, you’ll reside in Bordeaux, France and travel throughout Europe for jobs. The deal is that you never see her again, it guarantees there can be no association between you two.”

“What? No, no...I can’t do that, I love her, she means everything to me. I won’t leave her, not without an explanation. We were gonna leave before you showed up, make a new life with all of this shit behind us,” His nose burns and he bites back a tear, “I-...I wanted to marry her one day, I can’t just leave her here.”

“You don’t have a choice, your flight leaves in the morning if you’re lucky they’ll let her out and you might be able to say goodbye one last time. Come on, we need to get out of here, you have to pack up. Do yourself a favor and try to forget about her, she’ll eventually do the same.”

This can’t be it, this can’t the end everything he’s built with you. He promised he would fix this, how can he fix this if he’s on the other side of the world? The thought of going to get you and running came to mind, but he can’t make you live like that, on the run like outlaws, he loves you too much. He has to fix this but you’ll have to wait. His heart aches, he knows you’re probably alone and confused. This is all my fault, this is my fault.

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drumboydowoon · 5 years ago

Text

Woof Woof | Stray Kids Au

Chapter One / Misunderstandings in Kinkshaming

Werewolf!Chan au

Warnings / swearing, kink and sex mention, this isn’t smut I promise, mature themes

Words / 4k+

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Working at the convenience corner store wasn’t the most ideal place to be, but what else is a broke college student to do? So the only thing you can do is suck it up and deal with another unpleasant night of boredom.

Nothing exciting happened, only what you would expect to happen in an almost unknown store. The customers would avoid any kind of small talk, so they could get out of there and on with their lives.

There were a few exceptions, however. Every once in a while, some drunk or other douche waltzed into the store for more booze and a phone number from the very unlucky cashier, which happened to be you. Of course, you’ve had to tell them off and from time to time, threatened to call management if they continued to harass you. Adventures in working the evening to night shift were always a joy.

The only highlight of your night was when two of your favorite idiots walked in. Suddenly the room lit up and it became a party. A very sad pity party of three.

Once they’ve come through the sliding doors, the sensors ring throughout the building. You greet them with a small smile and wave of your hand. Jisung was the first to wave back happily (and a little too enthusiastically). Minho stuck with something more simple and opted for a quick glance and smile of his own.

Usually they only come in for snacks and other “boy’s night in” necessities. But every once in a while, they come for some things that are very… odd. At least for college boys that never go out and do anything. It seemed normal at first, but the more it happened, the more you began to question it.

Each month, the two of them would stride in and grab one of the carrying baskets. Completely normal. Watching them head straight for the freezer section and then proceed to struggle to pack their basket full of meat was a little weird, though. Afterwards, Minho strayed away from Jisung to come back with some cheap doggy bowls, which you didn’t even know you had in stock. And to bring their shopping trip to a conclusion, they both came to the cash register by slamming two cases of water bottles onto the counter, along with their basket that’s nearly overfilled.

“Doing weird shit again tonight, boys?” you ask as you begin the long process of scanning their seemingly endless items.

Jisung chuckles and scratches the nape of his neck, “Well, you know how grandma is… She just always craves a good steak and gallons of water to wash it down,” he answers with his smart ass attitude.

“Alright, little red riding hood. Make sure you tell ‘grandma’ hello for me, or should I say the big bad wolf?,” there’s a sarcastic tone in your voice, but you end with a small laugh anyways.

Every time you dared to ask what they were doing with these things, they managed to come up with some ridiculous answer (or excuse) that somehow amused you. Of course it would only increase your curiosity about what they were actually up to every one day in the month, though. You can only wait for the day that they finally tell you what they're doing.

Jisung momentarily chokes, “I-I’m sorry wolf--?”

Minho elbows the side of his friend and clears his own throat, “That’s just some silly fairy tale,” he rolls his eyes, “Jisung just has some really weird relatives,” he jokes. His voice is a little darker than before, “Trust me, you don’t want to meet them.” A shudder is sent down your spine. Sure his words seem lighthearted, but something in his tone makes you believe that he really means it.

Jisung nods and agrees, “Yeah, my family’s just-- Hey, wait!”, he cuts himself off as he realizes he’s being insulted. Laughing at the both of them, you finish scanning the rest of their things and ring up their total.

Minho glares at Jisung, then looks back to you. Minho pulls out his wallet and hands over the amount that was due while his murderous intent was still focused on his poor Jisung. You wondered what he could’ve done wrong to earn the wrath of the older boy, but it’s best you don’t interfere. After that, he quickly gathers the heavy plastic bags and makes Jisung carry the water cases.

“We have to get going now,” he announces just when he’s about to start walking away. But Minho pauses for a moment in thought. He takes a few steps back and glances at you with a coy smile, “Hey, do you maybe want to hang out sometime soon?” he asks.

The request catches you off guard at first. Mr. brooding and quiet, actually asking you to hang out? Unheard of. “Uhm… sure,” you respond a little awkwardly and unsure. It’s not like you didn’t want to, you’re just surprised is all. Not only that, it was also strange since you’re literally going to see him and everyone else later tonight.

Jisung snorts loudly as Minho shyly averts his gaze (most likely internalizing the cringe). “Okay, nice… ” Minho blurted out before rushing out with a laughing Jisung in tow, who was sure to face the death penalty as soon as they were out of eyesight. Poor poor Jisung.

“See you later!” you call out to them, but the sliding glass door already slid closed by the time you were able to fully get your words out. Sighing deeply, you shrug your shoulders in indifference. They’ll see you later at the house. Then maybe you can ask about their activities and what was up with the weird farewell.

For now, all you can do is wait for the time to pass by and pray you don’t lose your mind.

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By the time your shift ended, the sun was already going down. Letting out a long tired breath of air, you look at the time and wonder if you should really stop by Felix’s, or if you should go back to the dorms and give him the notes he missed in the morning.

You silently debated in your head as you grabbed your backpack from the break room and proceeded to head out to the back of the building, where your bike was locked up. One thought, two thoughts, three thoughts...

It’s decided a moment later that you would ride over to Felix’s place. It’s not like you had anything better to do on a Friday night, anyways. It wasn’t ideal to pedal all the way to the house considering that he and his friend’s live quite a distance away. But if you’re lucky (and if he values your friendship) he’ll let you stay the night. And in the morning, perhaps he can convince his oldest roommate to drive you home.

After unlocking your bike, you begin riding off towards Felix’s house. Before you took off, you texted him, telling him that you were on your way, but he never responded. Maybe he was doing something at the time, which isn't a big deal. He knows that you’re coming over anyways.

Even if he doesn’t answer, one of his roommates is bound to be home. He lives with three other guys that hardly ever go out. Jisung and Minho moved into the almost mansion sized house at the beginning of the year. One day, out of the blue, they decided not to live in the student housing anymore. Instead, they wanted to live with Felix and their sugar daddy, Chan, who lets them stay by barely paying for anything.

Chan is the oldest roommate, who you’re the least close with and hardly know whatsoever. He’s also the owner of the house they all live in. He’s nice enough, but you’ve only spoken with him a handful of times. Sometimes it feels like he avoids you, but you try not to let it bother you too much. You have the other three boys to keep you company when you’re over.

You didn’t even realize that you were lost in your thoughts at first. It’s just that the bike ride was taking so long, that you had nothing better to do. Pedaling for over an hour was exhausting, but since you’ve done it nearly everyday, you were used to it by now.

Before long, you could see the gates that lead to the property the house is on. Each time you saw the fenced off private property, you couldn’t help but be in awe of it. In short, the area is huge. So huge that you can’t even see the house yet because you still have to go through their forested front yard that was a mile long, before you actually reached the house. How anyone could afford such a massive place that was also gorgeous, was beyond you.

It took a couple of minutes until you finally made it to the house’s driveway. The first thing you can recognize is Chan’s beat up car sadly parked in front of the garage. Then your gaze drifts to the unidentified motorcycle sitting next to the van. As you can recall, no one here owned a two wheel vehicle, except for Felix’s red bicycle that’s been thrown haphazardly thrown into the bushes.

After walking up to the door, you knock, then wait… then wait… and wait some more. You knock again, this time louder.... There’s still no response. It’s a little strange. Clearly someone’s in the house. Everyone looks like their home and there’s lights on.

Sighing, you tap your foot impatiently. Finally you decide to look in the flower pot that sat alone next to the door. There the spare house key was found, that was supposed to be used in emergencies. This isn’t necessarily an emergency, but if no one’s home and Felix made you ride your bike all the way to Nowhereville, then you’re going to be seriously pissed off. In that case, you’re leaving a very harshly worded note.

As you unlock the door and enter the house, you notice that it’s eerily dark in the front room, which is unusual since the boys are almost always still awake lazing around on the couches. You quietly click the door shut and slowly move through the unlit room and towards the stairs where the lit up bedrooms were.

About to walk up the stairs, you’re stopped in your tracks as you begin to hear a strange noise. At first, you think you hear someone, who sounds almost exactly like Minho, telling someone, who also sounds almost exactly like Jisung, to shut up very loudly.

Following shortly after, there’s something that sounds somewhat like a rumbling, or perhaps it’s a growl. You’re pretty sure the boys don’t own any pets. It must be the darkness and the quiet messing with your mind. Maybe it’s the boys and they’re playing video games or something.

It sounds like the voices are coming from the basement, so you step down from the stairs you were previously about to walk up, and head to the basement door by the kitchen. Once the door opens, you take one step down and call out, “Hello? Anyone home?” Then you take another step down and the staircase creaks along with it.

It must have caught someone’s attention because in an instant there’s shoes thudding hastily towards you. Soon the familiar head of lightly dyed orange hair belonging to none other than Han Jisung, rounds the corner of the staircase. As soon as his eyes lock on you from below, he’s jumping in surprise. His face is pale and his forehead is covered in sweat, so his hair looks messily matted. Your heart beats a little faster at the sight. Him looking scared for some unknown reason, was making your own anxiety peek around the corner.

Jisung’s sudden appearance makes you pause and stare at him. Before you could even say a word or take another step forward, Jisung rushes up to you, making you flinch back at the unexpected movement. His arms spread out to either side of the walls to completely block you off.

Out of breath, he chuckles nervously, “H-hey there, Y/n! When did you get here??” his voice is jittery. It’s suspicious.

You furrow your brows at his behavior. “Hey..? Just got here… Is everything okay down there?” you ask, trying to find a way past him. There’s worry lacing itself into your words. Something doesn’t seem right.

Jisung’s voice cracks, “Yeah, everything’s fine here! Why wouldn’t it be?” He’s too quick to answer. His gaze keeps wandering from you and hastily down the stairs, even though you can’t see anything from here.

“Jisung...” you warn in a stern voice. It’s clear that he’s hiding something from you. He’s not exactly the best at lying, unfortunately for him.

“Y/n…” he says back in a mocking tone that makes you frown at him.

Then another odd sound resounds in the room and up the stairs. Even when listening closely, it’s difficult to precisely make out what it is. It almost sounds like a person, but it almost doesn’t at the same time. The noise is deep and rumbling, like before when you first heard it in the front room.

The gutturaling shoots a strange sense throughout your body. Suddenly your chest pounds more than when you first entered. There’s unease going through your mind. You wonder if it’s actually a good idea to go downstairs. But then there’s a throaty whimper that follows shortly after, which affirms your determination to see what it is making the noise.

“Alright let me through,” you demand, trying to push past Jisung, however each time you try to advance, he moves to block you from going any further. You scoff at his childish behavior, “It sounds like someone is hurt. Get out of my way.”

“I can’t let you do that,” he struggles to say as he tries to fight against you.

“Get out of the way,” you repeat, attempting to pull his arms down and out of the way.

“No!”

Finally, you overpower him and push his arms out of your way. Roughly, you shove past him. You descend down the steps quickly before Jisung can make another effort to stop you.

Jisung hurriedly follows after you. Alas, his attempts proved fruitless when he realized that you already reached the bottom of the stairs before he could get to you. Though he couldn’t stop you from getting past him, he could try to save your innocent eyes before it was too late as a last effort.

Seconds before you can even glimpse at the scene, Jisung hurries to cover your vision with his hands. Like when he tried to stop you from going downstairs, he failed to keep your eyes covered for long. Immediately you shrug his hold off of you and give him a disappointing frown.

Once you’re able to see what’s in front of you, it takes you a couple of moments to fully process it. After blinking once, then twice, you almost wished that Jisung still was protecting your vision. This was just flat out disturbing.

First there’s Felix to the left, then Chan to the right. A little further away, sat a long dark haired boy that you couldn’t identify yet. Metal chains wrapped around their wrists and connected to the concrete wall behind them. With each pull from one of the boys, the chains rattled and clicked against each other. They pulled against the chains as if they were trying to escape, but it was impossible.

Each one of them looked utterly exhausted as sweat dripped off of them and onto the cold grey floor. Dark bags were formed under their eyes as far as you could tell. You were mostly basing this off of seeing Chan’s face and part of Felix’s downturned gaze. The third member was unreadable since his head hung low and his hair covered most of his expression. But overall, they look like shit.

Their eyes… looking closely you slowly begin to realize that they don’t look normal. Chan’s usual dark brown eyes were no longer there, and were instead replaced with a shade that surely wasn’t normal. They were the brightest yellow you’ve ever seen before. It’s almost like they were glowing in the barely lit room. The little golden glow reminded you of the stars, and nearly captivated you.

What snaps you out of your trance is steel smacking down onto the ground. When you search for the source, you see Minho standing in the corner of the room. Had he always been standing there, or were you too busy trying to process what was in front of you to realize that he was there?

Looking down, you notice one of the doggy bowls he purchased earlier. The contents spill out of the bowl while the bowl continues to settle down. The meat flops onto the floor and stains the concrete beneath it. It smells raw and appears raw.

Looking back to Minho now, you see his expression. He looks like he’s just seen a ghost, and that ghost happens to be you. His jaw drops as he stammers to say something, anything. It must’ve been an illusion right? Minho was sure that he was just imagining you and that you’re not actually here right now. There’s no way that you’re currently witnessing the secret that they’ve all been trying to keep from you and the rest of the world, right? Nope, no way. Impossible.

He blinks once more. You’re still standing there. He’s freaking out, Jisung’s freaking out, and you’re about to start freaking out yourself. Everyone’s freaking out. So before you can fully freak out, Minho hurryingly marches up to you, “Y/n, it… it’s not what it looks like. I can explain. I-”

“You guys are into some freaky shit…” you breathe out in a barely audible whisper. You continue to stare on at the scene. It hardly registers in your mind the chained up boys are snarling and staring right back at you now.

Minho keeps rambling excuses, but he pauses once he hears you. He backtracks, “I’m sorry, what?” He glances at Jisung momentarily. In return, the younger boy just shrugs tensely.

This time you stare at Minho with a blank expression, “I said you guys are into some freaky shit… If this is some sex dungeon, it’s really fucked up…” you inform him. You swallow anxiously.

Both Minho and Jisung look at each other, then back to you. Standing directly in front of you now, Minho blocks your view from the three chained up boys. He places his hands on your shoulders tightly. He’s ready to explain a few things then make you go back upstairs until they can get everything sorted out.

You had different plans, however. Instead of listening to what he had to say, you pushed Minho’s arms off of you. It was your god given right to blow up over what’s in front of you. Sweat drips down your forehead and each breath comes out uneven. Your heart accelerates in, not only fear, but pure, untampered rage as well.

“What the hell is all of this?!” you screech in his face unintentionally, which immediately panics both parties standing around you. You were so calm before, so your sudden explosion took them by surprise.

Jisung is quick to hush, “Y/n, be quiet, please…!” he raspingly mumbles. He continues to eye both you and the three boys warily. The rattling metal from the wall becomes slightly more frequent and louder.

You being in such a frenzied state, did not listen of course.

Instead your voice is louder than before, “What is this?!” you repeat, “Is this really some weird freaky sex dungeon?!” you question angrily, confused, and among other things.

You glance to wearily three behind Minho. It was hard to believe what you were seeing. You kept praying that you somehow got hit by a car on your way over, and now you’re having some weird coma dream that you would wake up from soon. The nerves and adrenaline felt too real to be a dream, though.

“Like who’s into chaining people to the wall and making them eat raw meat from a doggy bowl?!” you throw your hands up as you gesture to the knocked over bowl on the ground, “ A goddamn doggy bowl!” you throw your hands up as you gesture towards the spilled over bowl on the ground.

A low growl interrupts your interrogation. It come from Chan, who, might you add, didn’t look right in the mind at all. Before, you never noticed it, but now that you were eyes were jumping around the room, you finally see it. There’s a pill bottle sitting on a table over on the other side of the room.

Your eyes widen as you suddenly come to a conclusion, “Oh my god…” you gasp in shock, then look between Minho and Jisung, “Did you drug them?” it comes out as more of a shocked whisper than your previous shouts.

Did you just walk right into the middle of a crime? Two of your closest friends, drugging people are dragging them to the basement for whatever weird sick purposes… was unbelievable. But you couldn’t deny the sight in front of you.

There’s a much longer rant lingering at the back of your throat, but Minho places a hand over your mouth before a peep gets out. A harsh glare is etched on his face as he tells you to shut up. Your immediate reaction is to shove his hand off of you, but the look he is giving you tells you that it’s best not to.

He lifts a finger up to his lips and wordlessly quiets you. After a moment, Minho cautiously removes his hand off your lips and sighs. “Listen, I know this looks really bad, but I can explain everything. I just need you to calm down,” he tells you “And, as for you,” he pointedly says as he gives Jisung a harsh glare, “I can’t believe you just let her come down here!”

“Hey, it’s not my fault that Y/n showed up out of the blue! She’s the one who almost pushed me down the stairs to get here!” Jisung defends himself.

“You could’ve at least tried a little harder! I mean how hard is it to--”

A loud metal snap from behind Minho is what interrupts him next. Suddenly, the room becomes completely silent with the exception of the low growling that is heard throughout the room. Immediately, your gaze fixes itself on the source of the noise and what, or rather who, it was coming from.

You nervously look and see exactly who it’s coming from, and it didn’t even really look like him anymore. There, Felix stands, with the chains that were previously secured on his wrists, now broken off in half. How is that possible? That’s what you want to know.

Many times, you’ve seen Felix when he was in a bad mood. He didn’t look nice then, and he certainly doesn’t look any nicer now. The only difference between then and now is the fact that your best friend looks absolutely terrifying. The cold sweat runs down your back as he breathes in and out heavily. The atmosphere becomes thick and heavy. It’s getting harder to breathe properly.

There’s a hunger in his unnaturally golden glowing eyes, one that you’ve never seen before in another person. It’s nearly animalistic how ready he looks to pounce on one of you. This isn’t the Felix you know. This isn’t your Felix, your goofy friend, who makes you laugh at the dumbest things. This is some kind of beast standing before you.

Besides you, Jisung is tense and shaking so much that you can almost hear his teeth clattering. In front of you, Minho is frozen solid. It takes him a moment to build up the courage to look behind him. He slowly cranes his neck in Felix's direction, who stands not too far behind him. He gulps anxiously. Then he turns back to you with his grip much tighter than before.

“Don’t. Move…” he mouths to both of you shakily. Everything is silent. The only sound is the rugged breathing that hangs in the air.

122 notes · View notes

scandalousfemale · 5 years ago

Text

Ch.1 End of the World As We Know It

Chinese!OC x Kelce

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Zombies were meant for apocalyptic movies and TV shows where one could binge watch for a day and return to their mundane life. But something happened, a lab test went wrong and suddenly the outbreak started. This story takes place exactly three weeks after zombies slowly started to take over the planet.

Series master list

WC: 3,445

Warnings: this is a zombie apocalypse fic, mentions of zombies, mentions of death, slight mention of ripping of flesh but not much, mentions of weapons!!! Knives!, mention of sewing up a wound, someone got sliced with a knife and needs to be sutured, mentions of fear

A/N: To every single person who has shown interest in this, thank you so much. Whether it’s because you were excited for a Kelce fic or you were excited for (finally) an Asian oc/face claim, just know that your support kept me writing this. I loved every second of writing this first chapter, it’s one of the first, in a while, that came really easily to me and I am so in love with the characters already. Again, thank you so much for your support and your feedback. You all keep me going. Now, please, jump into this AU with caution. Some might not make it out.

It is widely believed that right before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. Kaili wondered, sitting in the empty and dark pharmacy by herself, if her cousin was granted that mercy. She can still hear the echoes of Wei’s piercing scream, forever haunted by the thought that maybe she could’ve done something to save her. But she couldn’t have. And there was no way that her death could’ve been peaceful enough to collect a couple of seconds to remind her of a life before this.

Hell, it was hard for Kaili to remember a life before this. The scattered news reports said that this outbreak had started about two or three weeks ago— she’s lost count, that there had been a mistake. The labs were trying to test out a new vaccine, one that could cure people of any potential virus that would have affected the human race and become the next pandemic, but something had gone wrong. Though she didn’t trust the reporters to tell the public much of the truth to begin with, the people have been saying that the virus had begun in New York, where scientists were trying to inject an gene editor into the bloodstream. It was supposed to make the recipient stronger and their immune system more durable for whatever that came their way. In a way, it did. When the first volunteer died, their body carried on living...lunging forward, biting, and passing on the mutant gene to anyone else who had gotten bit.

That brings us to the problem at hand and why Kaili was trying to silently mourn the loss of her family as her backpack full of first aids and snacks were flushed against the wall behind her. She had seen the news of the outbreak on her campus TV and gotten in the car, headed straight for her family. She was just hoping that they wouldn’t have been freaking out, seeing as it would be easy to panic when all they saw were images of people ripping each other’s face off and they don’t understand the language very well

Kaili is first generation American, stemming from Chinese immigrant parents. They worked so hard to make sure that she never had a want for anything that she truly needed but in doing so, they’ve neglected a lot of their own necessities. When she was smaller, she’d ask them for seconds and they would make sure that she’d be full, even if that meant that she ate their food. Of course, once she caught on, she’d stopped asking, even sometimes putting more on her parents plate than her own.

The feeling of her heart thumping fast in her chest when she saw her house lingered in her still. The anxiety never really rid itself from her. The images of her parents crouched on the front lawn, devouring her aunt and uncle in law still flashed in her head. She didn’t even have time to cry when her cousin, Wei, jumped into her car and told her that she heard it was safer if they started going down south. As long as they got away from the epicenter that is New York. Both girls didn’t have a chance to grieve their parents until they were out of Maryland and on the way to Florida.

Of course, they never made it that far. They’d spent a week holed up in an underground parking lot, just processing the information. Looking up the news until their phones ran out of battery. Some days the girls barely spoke to each other, they’d just share a knowing look, a touch that would let the other know that the pain was acknowledged but they wouldn’t speak much of it.

Then, when they started to slowly come out of grief and into self preservation, they started on their trip again. Which wasn’t exactly easy. Of course, cars needed gas and people— the living, needed food and sleep. So, even on their journey, they were forced to stop. Sometimes they’d meet others along the way, especially those who swarmed the grocery stores and took everything that their arms could carry but most times it still felt like a normal day. There were people who believed that it was just an isolated incident in an isolated state.

When they reached South Carolina though, it felt like a ghost town. They’d decided to go to a grocery store and usually they were good at their surroundings but maybe the town just felt too safe. Too...empty. Wei walked in without being careful and the flesh eating monsters heard the bell of the door. They’d swarmed her before she even got the chance to pull out her weapon.

Kaili didn’t like sleeping anymore because of that. She doesn’t even remember screaming at the sight but she must’ve because the attention was suddenly drawn on her. And so she ran to the closest empty shop she could find and she’s been stuck here for the past two days.

She’d cried. A lot. She cried so hard that she became tired but she wouldn’t allow herself to sleep, pulling energy drinks from the fridge from the drug store, not like it helped. It’s funny how trauma has a way of taking care of you against your own wishes. Her body had shut down on her and she fell asleep on her pharmacy’s floor. Even if only for a little bit, she woke up only to sob again, knowing that she wouldn’t exactly get far on her own and even if she did, she wouldn’t really know where she’d end up.

She had forced herself to stay hydrated and eat, even when she didn’t want to. Even when the look of some consistency of food made her vomit because it reminded her of the flesh that the monsters outside the doors would eat, she knew that she had to keep her energy up for when she was ready to make the move. Needless to say, she was scared. She’d never faced one of these creatures alone before but now, she figured it wouldn’t be as different as when Wei and her used to kill them together. She just doesn’t have anyone watching her back this time.

On the afternoon of the second day in hiding, the sound of glass shattering pulled her out of her self pity and planning. She had quickly crawled and hid behind a medicine cabinet, listening for who’d broken into her sanctuary.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think the entire Charleston has heard you, JJ, can you do that a bit louder?” An annoyed female voice hissed.

Great, Kaili thought to herself, I guess dying by the hands of humans might be better than being ripped to pieces. She’d run into other humans before, some nice and others not but in a deserted town like this where not even one car is in sight, she’d doubt that this group of people were all too friendly.

“Can you two just shut up and fill the bags?” A gruff male voice spoke before sounds of bottles rattling on top of each other filled the space.

While trying to pay attention to the noise and the people in front of her, she had forgotten to check behind her, used to having Wei be there. A rookie mistake.

“What do we have here?” A blond man spoke from behind her. He couldn’t have been older than nineteen years old, yet his cold eyes told a story only that of someone who’d seen too much can tell. Then again, she supposed they’ve all seen too much at this point.

Before she could even register his words and answer them, she’d pull the knife from the band on her thigh, instinct took over. The boy jolted backwards, knocking over the medicine shelf behind him.

“Whoa, there little lady,” the startled boy shifted his eyes around the room, relaxing when his friends came to stand by him. She was outnumbered and though one to three wasn’t that bad of a fight, she didn’t want to take the risk, especially after seeing the man stood by the blond. He towered all three of them.

“Are you alone?” The female spoke, a softness in her tone that Kaili hasn’t heard since the outbreak had started.

Instinct told her to lie but what was the point? So, she nodded once.

“Do you speak English?” The tall boy asked, which earned him a scowl from Kaili and a scoff from the girl next to him.

“She literally just responded to me when I spoke to her, what kind of a dumb ass question is that, Rafe?”

Okay, so the tall one was called Rafe, that means the blond had to be JJ, Kaili inspected them, eyeing their clothes and their weapons— or lack thereof.

“She’s just staring and I don’t know whether to be turned on or creeped out,” JJ said, caught in the middle of the two glaring at each other. A comedic relief, of course.

“I can speak English,” Kaili said, her voice coming off tense and dry. After all, she hadn’t used it in two days except to sob, and even then, she tried to cry in silence.

“Sorry, we’re so rude,” the female shook her head before she stepped forward as Kaili stepped back, not expecting the sudden movement, but the girl in front of her acted like she didn’t notice. Her smile was warm, her age probably mirroring that of the blond.

“My name’s Kiara,” her hand still outstretched as Kaili switched her blade to her other hand and took it cautiously, “this here is JJ,” she pointed to the blond as he flashed his canine at her in a smile that had a deadly edge to it.

“And that’s Rafe,” she pointed at the tall man who seems to be a little older than the rest of them, maybe a little bit closer to Kaili’s twenty-three.

“I’m Kaili.”

A beat passed, where no one moved or had said anything and Kaili strapped the blade back to the outside of her thigh, alongside the others.

It was as if the group had seen her for the first time and she wondered what that sight must’ve looked like to them because to her, it would seem like she’s a broken little girl playing dress up.

“Wait, you know how to fight?” JJ asked, not hiding the shock in his voice had he eyed her weapons.

“I know how to survive,” she shrugged. She had a small obsession with switchblades when she was younger, that had turned into a throwing knives obsession but when it came to shooting or fist fighting? She was at a loss.

They eyed her clothes. Black pants with a weapons belt wrapped around her hips and down her thighs. Her black long sleeve shirt was tucked neatly into the waistband. She looked like a mercenary and it was all thanks to Wei. The day of the zombie attack was Wei’s birthday and so she was stuck in her birthday dress for days before the younger girl made it a mission to raid an abandoned store for some new clothes. Something about how it’s not practical fighting in a skirt, no matter what comic book says. She used to laugh at the thought but thinking about it now hurts her.

“Do you know…” Kiara began to ask before Rafe put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head but she only gave him a desperate glance.

“No,” the boy pulled at her but JJ broke his grasp, standing in between them, as if he was protecting Kiara from a potential threat.

“Do you want him to die?” Kiara grit through her teeth from behind JJ.

“We don’t know her, do you want to die?” Rafe hissed back.

“We don’t exactly have a choice.”

And so they continued their whispered argument and Kaili pretended not to hang on to every word, when she'd heard enough, she had responded to the question that hadn’t been asked.

“I know first aid, well, a little more than first aid. My mom is a doctor,” a lump formed in her throat when she realized what she had said, “was a doctor,” she corrected herself.

“Then it’s settled,” Kiara spoke, “we will allow you to join our group if you can help our friend. He’s suffering from a knife wound to his abdomen, it’s deep. He’ll need stitches, maybe. I don’t know. We’ve been using cotton and tape for now but he’s losing blood and color and let's be honest, we don’t know anything about what kind of equipment or medicine we need. So, can you help us?” She said with a desperate tinge in her tone.

Kaili had never been so grateful in her life that she had suffered from wounds before from playing rough until her mother had gotten so upset that she’d learn to dress her own mistakes.

“Depending on how much blood he’s lost and if the wound is infected, I can help,” Kaili responded as she went around the pharmacy, getting everything that she thought she’d needed. After about five minutes, she’d met them at the front of the door with six plastic bags.

“In case someone else gets hurt,” was her explanation for the bags. JJ laughed, muttering something about liking her already as he took some bags off of her hands and they walked out of the shop.

Rafe stalked ahead of them, a gun in his hands, as Kiara fell in line with Kaili.

“Thank you, again for this. I know you don’t know us and you could have said no. So, even if that one,” she nodded at Rafe, “isn’t going to say it, just know that we are grateful.”

“Don’t thank me yet, I don’t even know if I can save your friend,” Kaili’s reply was short but not harsh, as she wasn’t trying to be rude. She just meant to be truthful.

Rounding the corner, a van came into sight. No scratch that, it can’t even be considered that, it was more like a tour bus.

“Topper and his theatrics,” Kiara explained, as if Kaili would know what a Topper is, when she saw the girl’s eyes widen, “Gretchen Wilson was having a concert when everything had gone down. I guess they all died or something because her bus was left behind, with a full tank of gas and water, I might add.”

Kaili just nodded, a loss for words as she followed them to the bus and then up the stairs to the inside of this luxury transportation. She couldn’t believe it. She took a quick glance around the space noting the kitchen, beds, tv, and bathroom but the most important thing she noted was that there were more people than the group who came and got her. She expected maybe one extra person, of course, the one who was hurt. Not six more people. Kiara had locked the door behind her and suddenly, Kaili was feeling a little bit less comfortable.

“I thought I told you not to pick up any strays,” a voice called from the driver’s seat. An older looking blond boy with blue eyes had faced her.

“Chill out, Top, she’s here to help,” Kiara defended her as JJ called out from somewhere in the bus, “and she can fight!”

That didn’t stop Topper from eyeing her once more before starting the car up again. Rafe had gone up front to Topper and another male, one who barely gave her a glance.

Finally, a boy appeared from the bathroom, looking disheveled and covered in sweat. Yes, she could see it now. He did lose a bit of blood.

Another boy, she later found out his name was Pope, had laid a towel on the floor for the injured boy, John B, to lay on top of. Introductions were rapid before JJ laid the bags on the floor next to her.

Kaili had put on gloves and when she lifted his shirt, she grimaced at the sight. Someone had decided to wrap duct tape on his wound and she prayed that there was a protective layer between the tape and the injury or else there was a risk that she’d open the wound and start the bleeding all over again if it hadn’t already stopped. Muttering a round of sorry’s she was able to breathe again when she saw that there was, in fact, a cloth in between and that his wound had already begun to clot.

After advising him to eat some food and take pain relief medicine, she began cleaning out the wound, in which John B had let out a whole plethora of curse words at the girl anyway and even more so when she started suturing the cut. She hadn’t noticed the audience that she had attracted, nor that the bus had stopped again, until she had finally wrapped a flexible gauze around his middle and pulled the gloves from her hand.

Putting all of her used equipment into a plastic cup, she then handed it over to a beaming and smiling Kiara who’d thrown it away for her. Then John B was quickly taken back to the end of the bus, to a bigger bed, by a girl named Sarah who’d thanked her endlessly.

—

After a nicer round of introductions, except for one, she found out that Rafe was actually related to Sarah and that they both had another sibling in this bus who’s name is Wheezie. She tried not to laugh at that. Sarah was dating John B, who were best friends with JJ, Kiara, and Pope. Pope knew a whole lot about dead bodies and he was always reading up on the news. Then there was Topper, who was the main driver, who was also friends with Rafe and the guy who liked to keep to himself mostly. Though Kiara did mention that the guy, Kelce, isn’t usually like this but that it was hard for him to see siblings who made it out together when he didn’t. Kaili didn’t ask for her to elaborate since it wasn’t Kiara’s pain to share.

She got all of that before they asked her if she wanted to use the shower, which she jumped at the chance to. She couldn’t help but feel a little sad though, that Wei wasn’t here to experience this with her. After a quick wash, rinse, cry, and repeat. She pulled her “I heart North Carolina” over sized T-shirt over the biker shorts she took from a store and willed herself out of the bathroom. Fighting the urge to crawl into her bunk and call it a night when a group of them asked her to join them for a movie night as Kiara fixed up dinner with Topper.

She looked around this group of people, crammed into a stolen bus and she wondered who they really were, what their story was. They didn’t seem like they’d be friends outside of this situation but honestly she didn’t want to ask and they weren’t very keen in sharing, not that she’d mind because she wasn’t jumping at the chance to talk about her life before this mess either.

“Hey,” the boy who didn’t pay her a single speck of attention all day, sat across the way from her. She’d only nodded to him as a response, unable to turn her gaze back to the DVD now that his was on hers. “I’m Kelce,” he offered his hand to her and unlike earlier, she took it immediately.

“Kaili,” she'd said softly but she was sure he’d already known that, if not for Sarah saying it in between her thank you’s, then because of JJ insisting he was the one who had brought her back for his friend. Speaking of which, JJ had strutted out of the bathroom, shaking his wet hair at both of them, causing them to unlock their hands and gaze from the other. She couldn’t help but laugh at his childish antics. He had dropped to the spot next to her and extended his arm over the edge of the seat behind them as he settled in to watch the movie. Though she tried to get back into the actors on the screen, she couldn’t help but notice that Kelce’s eyes kept coming back to her, like hers did for him. It was as if he wanted to say something to her or maybe he wasn’t comfortable with her intruding into his space.

No, she definitely didn’t know what she was getting into.

tags: @rafecameron @millyelliot @tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar @sortagaysortahigh @stfukie @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless @outerbankslut @thegreatestofheck @starlightstarkey @stargazingstarkey @anxietyandtacos @spideymyluv @pogue-writings @bedazzledbanks @pankowrudeth @bricksatanakinswindow

#kelce outer banks #kelce fic #outer banks fic #outer banks au #LIAB

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meta-squash · 5 years ago

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Brick Club 1.5.8 “Madame Victurnien Spends Thirty-Five Francs On Morality”

Hugo does this with so many of the societal tragedies in this book. He sets everything up like everything is great and everyone is happy, only to have the facade crumble. It happened with the students/grisettes outing in 1.4 and in the description of the Thenardier children at Montfermeil, and it’s happening now with the description of Montreuil-sur-Mer’s prosperity. Everyone’s so happy and has good income and pays taxes! Oh wait, here’s how the people of this town fucked over one poor woman. (And how many other women have had something similar happen to them because of the nosey people.)

I’m really stuck on the line that Fantine “forgot many things.” She admired her appearance and thought about Cosette and the future and was almost happy, but she also forgot many things. What did she forget? Not Tholomyes, I don’t think, because on the next page he says she thinks of him. It’s such an odd little phrase. I just can’t think of what “many things” she could forget.

Hugo says she rented a room and furniture on credit, “a remnant of her former disorderly ways.” Fantine thinks she’s getting herself back on track, that this renting stuff on credit will be the last time she’ll have to do something “disorderly” and that now that she’s making a living with her own work she’ll be fine. The Hapgood translation is “improvident,” by the way, which I think makes more sense. However I find it interesting that Hugo calls her renting a room on credit a lack of foresight, when really it’s just a necessity out of extreme poverty. She had 23 francs when she left Montfermeil, and I can’t imagine she has much--or any--left when she arrives. Her behavior in Paris, of not taking job opportunities when they arose because of her affair with Tholomyes, I think that makes at least a little sense to call improvident. But not her renting and furnishing her rooms on credit, which seems desperate rather than prodigal.

The townspeople whisper that Fantine “put on airs,” which is the same accusation Favourite had of her back in 1.3.4 while on the swing. Something about Fantine’s odd sort of innocence makes people think she feels superior to them. I was going to say I wonder if this is another way of Hugo insinuating her goodness, but I don’t think Fantine’s “goodness” is the same as Myriel or Valjean’s. Hugo called Fantine “wise,” and I think an aspect about her is that she’s wise on an emotional level, not on a social level. She understands the importance of emotional connection and devotion on a level we don’t see with the other grisettes or with the people of M-sur-M. She doesn’t seem to have any idea about the whisperings going on around her, she has no idea that her child has been discovered until she’s fired. And yet even when she hardens due to her suffering, she never loses the softness about Cosette. Her wisdom is about sacrifice, which is exactly the kind of wisdom that these nosey townspeople (and probably Favourite) lack.

I love Hugo’s condemnation of gossip and rubbernecking. It also makes me laugh because it’s so similar to the way that cops act. This feels like a condemnation of both gossips and cops. What’s the phrase? Kill the cop inside your head? Anyway, he sounds so frustrated and exasperated here. I haven’t read very much further into the Hugo bio, but I’m wondering if there was some rumor or scandal that he personally experienced that made him feel so strongly here.

Hugo’s really hammering home the beauty of Fantine’s hair and teeth here in preparation for two chapters ahead. Weirdly, this reminds me of the Bishop’s silver. Back in 1.1.6 we learn about Myriel’s silver, and it’s mentioned multiple times afterward. When he gives it up, he’s giving up the last thing that connects him to his past life and is put on the same level as any of the poor parishioners or citizens of Digne. When Fantine gives up her teeth and hair, she sacrifices the last two things that tie her not only to her old life in Paris, but to the possibility of success in society as a woman.

So from what I can tell, the Bernardines are a Catholic order also called “Cistercians.” Originally they tried to observe the Rule of St Benedict and focused mostly on manual labor, but later become more focused on intellectual and academic rigor. There was a semi-successful reform movement to go back to old ways in the 17th century. By the 19th century it seems it was mostly dissolved. The “Bernard” of Bernardine was Bernard of Clairvaux, a powerful French abbot who actually wrote up rules that allowed Templar knights to pass through all borders freely. He also encouraged the Second Crusade, though it failed. The Jacobins were anti-royalist republicans who encouraged dechristianization of the country. The Jacobins spoke on behalf of the people but many were bourgeoisie.

So Mme. Victurnien’s ex-monk husband went from being a monk of a fairly intellectual order who observed pretty strict Benedictine rules to joining the fairly atheistic, republican, radical Jacobins.

Madame Victurnien was strict and harsh because her husband was strict and harsh to her. Something I’ve noticed about the way Hugo writes about toxic/abusive/bad relationships between people is how children are affected versus adults. Victurnien and her dead husband, the Thenardier parents, even Gillenormand (with his spinster daughter) to some extent, are all horrible relationships where the treatment of each other means they both turn out pretty awful. However, the same treatment to children (Thenardier parents to their children and even more so to Cosette, Gillenormand to Marius) actually creates an opposite personality. Eponine and Gavroche are both pretty rough, but they’re also both fairly kind in certain ways, which their parents are definitely not. Marius is socially awkward but happy to help when he can. Cosette defies her childhood completely. It’s just an interesting observation that adults abused as adults become abusive themselves while children who were abused have the chance to end the cycle.

“She was a nettle bruised by a frock.” Does Hugo use “nettle” in this metaphor as a verb or a noun? Because to nettle someone is to annoy them, which works, as Victurnien seems to be an extremely annoying individual. But also we have nettles as prickly, stinging plants and as a metaphor from a few chapters ago for the way people become hurtful when neglected. Here we have Victurnien, this nettle bruised by a frock, hurt and damaged by this ex-monk, who becomes prickly and abusive herself. Perhaps with better treatment she would not have turned out this way; but she continues the cycle, beating down others and turning them into stinging nettles rather than them becoming useful.

Fantine is given her fifty francs upon her termination “on behalf of the mayor.” Madeleine is not even Madeleine at all in this chapter. He’s just “the mayor,” as Fantine had been just “the mother” back in 1.4.1. To her he’s this entity that has power over her, that even hates and persecutes her the way the townspeople are. She doesn’t see him, and neither do we; by this point he seems to have relegated factory admin jobs to others, who are then able to make the choice about who to dismiss and why. Again this presents a problem to his rules. People can make up any old rumor or reason to dismiss a person they don’t like or see as morally unfit, and because Valjean doesn’t seem to play as much a part in the running of the factory as before, there’s no way to dispute, except to go to him. And who’s going to go to him, if they feel the same shame that Fantine does?

Fantine is in limbo; she’s told to leave the city but she cannot because of debt. Hugo’s characters in limbo are usually on the edge of an emotional or ethical breakthrough, as with Valjean leaving Digne, Marius just outside the barricade, or Javert at the bridge. Fantine’s limbo doesn’t seem like the edge of a breakthrough, more like the edge of collapse. She really doesn’t have many avenues open to her anymore.

Also, what about sex workers who are more obvious? Later, we see Fantine walking the street in a ballgown. That’s very unsubtle. And, I don’t know, maybe it goes with her sort of social innocence that she would do something like that, but surely there are other desperate women who blatantly walk the streets like that. They haven’t been kicked out of the city. Surely they don’t--or can’t--hide their trade completely. It must be some sort of open secret. I understand that the reasoning for her being banished from M-sur-M is that Valjean has very strict rules, but it still seems so weird to me to set these rules up for some of the city but not all.

Fantine feels shame more than she feels despair. Which. Is a lot. It’s just awful that she has to feel ashamed for this thing that she would have kept hidden if the townspeople weren’t so awful. She has to feel ashamed for the one thing in her life that she truly actually loves and sacrifices for. Which is another parallel between her and Valjean. Fantine feels ashamed not because of her love of Cosette, but because of the “mistake” and stigma that Cosette’s existence implies. Valjean loves Cosette but he always feels a little bit ashamed, not at loving her, but because he feels she doesn’t deserve his love. Despite both of their shame regarding their love for Cosette, both Fantine and Valjean will sacrifice anything for her. It’s definitely a statement about the power of Love, but I think it’s also a good illustration of how both Valjean and Fantine seem to think of themselves as people meant to Suffer For The Good Of Another.

Fantine was “advised to see the mayor; she did not dare.” She believes this was his decision, and not some foreman’s. This is a failure on her part and on Valjean’s part as well. It’s a failure on Fantine’s part because had she gathered her courage and gone, she could have avoided everything that soon comes. But Fantine is so optimistic and sees through rose-tinted glasses, all the way until the moment everything collapses on her, and then she can’t go on. Her optimism doesn’t get her far enough to stand up again immediately; it has to rest first. But more than Fantine’s failing, this is Valjean’s. I assume he gets notified of who is hired and fired at his factory; does he not reach out when someone is dismissed to make sure they’re okay and to see if he can help? Even more of a failure is this rigid system he’s set up combined with his kind-but-mysterious air. He’s so nice and fair that the townspeople see these rules as kind and fair as well, when they’re very much not. But no one--including Fantine--is going to question it because they assume it’s set up in the spirit of kindness. Which I suppose it is, from Valjean’s point of view, but it’s misguided and twisted and ends up being far more damaging than it could ever be helpful.

#les miserables #les miserables meta #brickclub #lm 1.5.8 #les mis #les mis meta

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therainroguefanfiction · 5 years ago

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🎃 Frightful October Act I, #3 ~ Movie Marathon (Nathan Prescott)

📑 Table of Contents

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Friendship, Halloween

Word Count: 2,876

Pairing: Reader x Nathan

World: Life is Strange

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The bell rang, signaling the end of class. You stretched your arms above your head, your back cracking. For some reason, the day felt like it had passed by agonizingly slow, and you still had another class before you could go home. Unlike most of the students that attended Blackwell Academy, you didn’t live in the dorms on campus – your apartment was a five-minute walk away. The main reason you chose not to live in the dorms is that you didn’t much care to be brought into all the drama that the students thrived off of.

You gathered your things before stepping out of the classroom. Your best friend was waiting near the door, his fingers flying across the keyboard on his phone. Sean Jamison stood at five-foot-five, his thin frame covered by a pair of jeans and a chocolate brown sweater. His blonde hair looked like it had been cut using a bowl, and his brown eyes shined with mischief. He was a technology geek that planned to major in computer science and game design when he graduated.

He glanced over at you, pushing his square glasses up with his middle finger. “Last period is math, your favorite.”

You scowled at him as you passed. “Don’t remind me. We can’t all be number genius’ like you.”

Sean chuckled, throwing his arm over your shoulder. “Don’t worry, the number genius won’t let you fail!”

“You better not. I can’t afford to flunk because of one subject.” You entered the classroom, making a beeline for the table at the back but Sean tightened his grip, pulling you back.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, Y/N.” he wagged his finger in your face. “How can you learn properly sitting in the back of the class?”

“I am not sitting in the front,” you deadpanned.

Sean frowned, pushing up his glasses. The fluorescent lights reflected off of the lenses, hiding his eyes. “Then we can compromise by sitting in the middle.”

You didn’t care for that, either, but it was better than sitting up front. There were four rows of three desks, allowing two people per desk. You scanned the room before choosing the third row from the front, sitting under one of the large windows. Sean sat beside you, focusing on his mobile game.

There were still a few minutes before class began, so you turned your attention to the window. It was the beginning of October, the sky overcast as a chilly breeze knocked leaves from the trees, colored in various shades of brown and orange. The school grounds had been covered in leaves. If you didn’t watch your step, it was easy to slide and lose your footing, hitting the ground. Just ask Miss Grant, the science teacher. She had been peddling another petition to passing students and wasn’t paying attention to the ground. Too bad she was wearing a skirt that day – her underwear choice had been the talk of the school for a week.

You felt eyes watching you and you glanced at Sean, but he was still buried in his game, hiding the phone between the desk and his lap so the teacher wouldn’t see it when she entered. You scanned the room, eyes locking with those belonging to the one and only Nathan Prescott. He was sat at the opposite end of the class in the back row. When he realized you caught him staring, he snapped his head in the opposite direction.

You frowned, turning to the teacher as she entered the room.

As expected, class was long and boring, and you found yourself zoning in and out more than a couple of times. Sean was going back and forth between taking notes and elbowing you in the side whenever the teacher sent you a pointed look. By the time class ended, your side was sore – you were sure it would bruise by tomorrow.

“What are your plans for the weekend?” he questioned as he shoved his books into his bag.

You hummed, thoughtfully, doing the same. “I’ll probably just watch a few horror movies and sleep.”

He tsked. “So much youth, wasted.”

“And what are your brilliant plans?” you scoffed, but immediately regretted it as his eyes lit up.

“Isn’t it obvious? Dino Murder Force 2 is finally being released tomorrow and I’m going to camp out in front of the store tonight so I can get my copy, then I’m going to spend the entire weekend beating the game I’m going to be the first to write an in-depth review!”

You stared at him, blankly.

He had said all of that without pausing for air, so he huffed when he finished the run-on sentence. Saying nothing, you slung your bag over your shoulder and left the room, ignoring Sean as he called after you, “You don’t understand the brilliance that is Dino Murder Force, Y/N!”

“Stop yelling, Mr. Jamison!” The teacher scolded him.

You chuckled. He was such a weirdo, but he was your weirdo.

You stepped outside, a blast of cold air stinging your skin. Autumn, in your opinion, was the calmest, most peaceful time of year. There seemed to be less drama around this time, and that was something you appreciated. Halloween was pretty cool, too.

“Hey, Y/N, wait up!”

You paused near the gate, looking over your shoulder.

Nathan was jogging toward you, his usual cocky expression switched out for a nervous one.

“What’s up?” you asked, softly.

“Can I… walk you home?” he asked, shifting from foot to foot. He stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets.

‘It’s only a five-minute walk, it can’t hurt…’ you contemplated it for a moment before nodding. “Sure,” You walked side by side, his hand occasionally bumping against your own. It brought back a flood of memories.

The first time you had met Nathan, you were in kindergarten. Back then, he was a pretty shy kid, but he was so cute that the girls in class naturally migrated towards him. He had this polarizing aura that pulled people in. You appreciated how he tried to help others the best that he could. Deep down, though, he was already beginning to harbor feelings of self-doubt and loathing.

One day during recess, you chased a rubber ball that had been kicked to the back of the building. That’s where you found him, curled up against the building as his small body shook with silent sobs. Instinctively, you rushed over to him and brought him into your arms, running your hand through his hair as you told him it would be okay. That was the first time you had spoken to him and, from that day onward, Nathan stuck to you like glue. You were his best friend, the rock that kept him grounded.

Having him depend on you so strongly made you feel needed and happy, and you oftentimes dropped whatever you were doing to accommodate him and provide comfort when he was upset, which was slowly becoming more common as you both grew.

As your relationship deepened, his parents started to take notice of you. They didn’t think that you were good enough to be friends with Nathan, and they were sure you were just trying to get to his money. Your family had no social standing, and your single mom worked three jobs just to make ends meet. In their eyes, you were trash, but they always acted pleasant on the rare occasions you met them. You had no idea how they truly viewed you.

Nathan never told you how his parents put you down and insulted your mother, or how they pressured him to stop spending time with you, but you knew him like the back of your hand and you knew he was beginning to change. The shy, kind little boy that you had become so close to was starting to morph before your eyes, but Nathan Prescott did not morph into a beautiful butterfly, he morphed into a monster – arrogant, entitled, and full of hatred.

The time you spent together became less and less frequent until, in the second year of middle school, he completely cut you out of his life. You tried talking to him, to demand an answer, but he was always surrounded by his new friends. Every time you got close, they would make fun of you and Nathan would just stand there, acting like you didn’t exist.

You became invisible to him.

While you were friendly with the other kids in your class, Nathan had been your only friend. Now you were left alone.

Shortly after, your mom began quite ill after pushing herself to keep working. She ended up being hospitalized. It was at this time that you met Sean, who found you in a similar way that you had first met Nathan.

Sean was a loner, preferring to tinker with his games and gadgets over talking to his peers, but he knew that you didn’t have any friends and he recognized that you were very distressed. Rather than bring you into his arms like you had to Nathan all those years ago, his way of comforting you consisted of forcing a handheld game into your lap and making you play with him. It wasn’t conventional, but it helped.

Your mom passed away a month after you started at Blackwell.

Nathan came to the funeral, returning to the empty apartment with you. He held you, allowing you to cry your heart out until you finally fell asleep, clutching his shirt in your fist. When you woke up the next morning, he was gone. There was a thick envelope left on the table – ‘sorry’ was the only thing written on it. Inside was a key to an apartment on the other side of town and fifteen grand in cash.

You remember thinking how typical it was that he thought cash could solve everything.

You didn’t want to accept the money, but he gave you no chance to return it. The apartment had been paid for in advance for the next four years, but you still had bills to pay and needed to buy food, not to mention the tuition for Blackwell. No job given to a high school student would be enough to pay for everything, so you did end up using some of the money, but you used it sparingly, only taking out enough for the bare necessities. In the meantime, you had gotten a part-time job at Two Whales diner.

A couple weeks later and you found another envelope in your mail. It read: ‘Quit your job. I’ll send you a monthly payment – N.’ Enclosed was fifteen hundred dollars.

You didn’t like this at all, but Nathan did what he wanted, and what he wanted he got. He had you fired from your job, knowing you wouldn’t quit on your own. You considered confronting him about everything, but that would require stepping out into the spotlight and you didn’t need that kind of drama in your life.

Even after all that, he still treated you like you didn’t exist, despite the monthly payment that was put in your mailbox every month.

So why the sudden change? Why was he suddenly approaching you after all this time?

Nathan frowned at your thoughtful expression. He knew he had royally screwed up the best thing he ever had but was it too late for him to fix things? “Hey, we’re here.”

You snapped out of your thoughts, smiling sheepishly. “Oh, right. Thanks…” you paused at the gate, hesitating. “Do you… want to come in?”

He nodded, not wanting to leave you just yet. Nathan followed you to the third floor, his mind running wild – he couldn’t remember a time that he felt so nervous.

You unlocked the door and stepped aside to let him enter. “Want something to drink?”

“Water,” he added as an afterthought. “Please.”

You stepped into the small kitchen attached to the living area, pouring out a glass of ice water for him and ice tea for yourself. He sat on the couch as you set the drinks on the coffee table, absentmindedly playing with the black rope around his right wrist.

Your eyes widened when you saw it and you reached out, holding his wrist so you could see it better. “You kept this?” It was a simple piece of rope with a yin-yang symbol tied through the front of it. You made it for him in fifth grade as a birthday present.

He quickly pulled his wrist away, his cheeks tinting as he tugged the sleeve of his jacket down. “It was a gift from you, of course I kept it.”

Those words went straight to your heart, making it increase in speed as it grew warm. You looked up at his face, taking in his appearance for the first time in a long time. His brown hair was slicked back but messy, as if he had run his hands through it nervously. His blue eyes, once bright and full of life, were dull and he had deep bags under them from a mixture of stress and lack of sleep. Overall, he looked exhausted and aged.

Seeing him in such a state made you frown.

“Stop staring at me,” he muttered, starting to feel self-conscious. People around him were constantly complimenting him, saying how gorgeous he is and how handsome, but he wasn’t very good at reading people, so he couldn’t tell if they were being genuine. Whenever you used to compliment him, it always felt genuine and made him feel happy, but when everyone else did it, it felt empty.

“Have you been sleeping, Nathan?” It was the first time you had said his name in so long, it made his breath catch in his throat. His body started to shake despite himself. “Nathan, what’s wro – ” you squeaked in surprise when he threw himself at you, sending you both to the ground. His arms were tight around your body as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. You gently rubbed his back, free hand running through his soft hair. It had been so long since you last held him, but your body remembered the position perfectly.

“I’ve missed you… so goddamn much…” he sobbed, clutching you tighter. “I didn’t want to, to push you away… I had to do it! I couldn’t… I couldn’t let you sink with me…”

“Oh, Nathan,” you chided, softly. “You’ve always been such an idiot. You’re my best friend, I would have happily sank with you. And you know what? I would have dragged you back to the surface.”

“You’re too good… for me…” he cried.

You hummed, thoughtfully. “I don’t think so.”

It took a while for him to calm down and stop shaking, but you didn’t mind. Even after everything that had happened, he was still the most important person in your life. You would always be there to catch him when he fell.

“Can I… spend the night with you?” he asked, softly. He sounded like a child, lost and scared. The shy boy flashed in your mind.

“Of course you can,” you smiled, gently pushing him back. He pulled away from you, sliding back until he was leaning against the couch. His eyes were red and swollen, but they held more life than they had earlier. You pulled yourself to your feet, feeling pinpricks in your back and butt, unhappy about being squished against the wooden floor for so long. You glanced at the clock – it was eleven-ten. “Hey, Nathan?”

He glanced up at you.

“There’s a Halloween marathon starting in twenty minutes. Wanna watch it with me?”

Nathan smiled, remembering all the times you had binge-watched movies as kids. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

You returned the smile before heading into the kitchen to make some popcorn. When you returned, Nathan had curled up on the couch with a blanket he had taken from your bedroom. He held one side of the blanket up and you squeezed in beside him, holding the bowl up as he flung it over your body. You turned the TV on and he moved closer, finding comfort in your warmth.

The first movie began, a cheap knock off of A Nightmare on Elm Street. He reached for your hand but hesitated. You smiled, slipping your hand into his and interlocking your fingers with his.

After two movies, Nathan’s eyes started to droop. He fought against the sleep invading his mind, not wanting this moment to end, but his body and mind were exhausted. His head fell onto your shoulder, breath evening out. You smiled, turning down the TV so the screams wouldn’t disturb his rest.

You didn’t know what tomorrow would bring – if he would go back to ignoring you or if you could be friends again, but that didn’t matter to you at the moment. You had your best friend at your side and that’s all that mattered to you.

You brought his hand to your chest, holding it with both hands. ‘No matter what happens, I will always be here for you, Nathan Prescott,’ You pressed a kiss to his palm and he smiled in his sleep. For the first time since he was a child, he slept peacefully through the night.

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