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tiannasfanfic · 7 months

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The One I Love

Tianyou Zhao x Reader (Fluff)

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Summary: When the Geomijul headquarters burns to the ground, the only life you've ever known is ash. Left with nothing to your name, you're given refuge at a bar called Survive and you find youself thinking back on how you met the man you love.

Rating: General Audiences

Author Notes: Gender neutral Reader, they/them pronouns (if any). Tianyou Zhao x Geomijul!Reader. No physical description, race or cultural heritage mentioned for Reader.

CW: Mentions of canon violence and canon typical violence; non-graphic mentions of injuries; suggestive non-graphic mentions of sex.

Word Count: 6,676

The unthinkable had happened.

Ijincho’s Great Wall of Muscle was close to falling down all thanks to an unexpected invasion by the Omi Alliance.

There was a surge of infighting within the Seiryu Clan. Chairman Hoshino had done his best to quell it, but many of his men had defected to the Omi and left them severely weakened.

A coup had occurred within The Liumang, resulting in the leader, Tianyou Zhou, getting captured and tortured by his second in command, who had also defected to the Omi.

Geomijul’s headquarters had nearly burnt to the ground when the Omi stormed in, including the computer systems that made up their vast information network, which had severely crippled all three factions in the process.

Granted, it wasn’t the Omi who set the fires, but they may as well have. The leader of Geomijul, Seonhee, had her hand forced to protect their biggest secret. A secret so big that even you, an officer and trusted member of her inner circle, had not been aware of until the very end when you were briefed and ordered to help evacuate the nearby residents.

Being a part of the rear guard didn’t mean you were completely out of the action though. A handful of Omi officers had come around in an ambush from behind to stop the retreat. You and the others leading the evacuation were far from sitting ducks though. All of you had varying degrees of combat training, both with and without weapons.

While a few lives were lost in the fight, none of those were the civilians you’d been sent to protect. It was a small victory, at least, yet you couldn’t be happy about it. Not when the only life you ever knew was nothing but ash.

And that was how you found yourself sitting in a bar called Survive with a swollen jaw, a black eye, a sore body, no home, and no job.

You didn’t understand how it all came to this. None of it made any sense. How could you start out the day with a decent life and now end it with absolutely nothing? It was aggravating, to say the very least.

And the more you thought over your last conversation with Seonhee, the more aggravated you got.

“What do you mean my services are no longer required?” you’d asked in dismay. “Aren’t you going to rebuild?”

She had just returned from meeting with Geomijul’s new allies, with whom she had sent Joongi Han to help. Good people she could trust were now in short supply, so to send you away made little to no sense.

“That is the plan,” Seonhee replied. “But our information network is our top priority, not our other services. This is your best chance to get out. I know this was never the life you wanted.”

She had you there. The two of you were old childhood friends, having grown up and raised through the ranks of Geomijul together, so she was aware of your thoughts on the matter. Being an only child, you had inherited your position as the chief accountant for the Geomijul from your father, just as he had inherited it from your grandfather. Your family had a natural talent for numbers, and that paired with your formal training and modern technology, you were one of the best in Ijincho.

Well. Calling yourself an accountant was a bit of a stretch. While you were the first in your family to have any official certifications in that line of work, what you did was far less legitimate.

Your actual job was keeping all the financial records for the whole district. All the businesses, both real and front, reported their finances directly to you. You did regular audits, kept the accounting tidy, and manufactured fake books that would easily pass inspection by government officials.

Back in your father’s youth, Seonhee’s predecessor realized they could make extra money off your family’s expertise with numbers and expanded the Geomijul’s offerings of information to include financial advising. What that meant was, when the Seiryu Clan or the Liumang needed accounting assistance or comprehensive financial audits beyond what their own people could accomplish, they contracted you out for a hefty fee.

It was decent work, and you liked what you did, but you would’ve been much happier with a regular job at a legitimate accounting firm in the city. While the pay wouldn’t be as good, sometimes you wanted more simplicity and less paranoia. You always had to be on your guard, always looking over your shoulder for people lurking in the shadows. As one of the select few faces of the Geomijul that were known to the other two factions, just going about your daily life carried a large amount of risk.

To say it was exhausting was putting it mildly, but, at the same time, it was all you ever knew. You would have to start over, begin your life fresh. Outside of your certifications, you had nothing you could put down on a resume. You had no work history, no references, and no good explanation as to why you had neither. A background check would come up empty, your credit report too. The chances anyone would give you a chance were slim to none. A blank life history like that for someone your age usually screamed “I was a criminal” to prospective employers.

You relayed all this to Seonhee and begged her to reconsider, but she stood firm.

“We will provide you with as much as we can in that regard,” she replied, her tone indicating her mind was made up. “I know it isn’t much, but this is a chance hardly any of us get. Now you can lead a normal life, settle down with a good man. It’s what you’ve always wanted.”

A bark of laughter left your throat at her words. You couldn’t stop it, nor did you try.

“A good man,” you repeated, shaking your head. “Like that will ever happen.”

Seonhee stepped forward and patted you on the shoulder reassuringly.

“You never know what the future may bring,” she said, smiling at you as if she knew something you didn’t.

You raised an eyebrow at her questioningly, but she offered no explanation. She simply gave your shoulder one last squeeze, then walked away.

At times, you couldn’t help but wonder if she knew.

You did have a good man, but settling down together and living a normal life would be impossible.

Presently, you were brought out of your thoughts by the bartender of Survive setting a glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen on the bar in front of you.

“I’ve got herbs marinating that will ease your wounds,” he said. “It needs a bit more time to meld together, but this should help in the meantime. I sent Iroha out to pick up supplies for you. Once she’s back, we can get the extra room ready for you. It’s not as big as the one Kasuga and his friends share, but it should do until you get on your feet.”

“Thank you,” you said. “I really am sorry for all the trouble.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, waving off your thanks as he walked away. “Any friend of Kasuga’s is a friend of mine.”

Calling you Kasuga’s friend was a bit of a stretch. You’d only met the man twice, once after the attack on Geomijul and the second not even a half hour ago when you walked through the door to the bar. But he’d taken a liking to you, it seemed, and vouched for you when you asked if you could stay there as if you’d known each other for years.

You chuckled softly to yourself and shook your head. Kasuga was something else, that was for sure.

As he was leaving the bar to meet with Chairman Hoshino, he’d thanked you for all your help despite the fact you’d done little to aid him in his cause. In all reality, you were the one who should’ve been thanking him.

If it weren’t for Ichiban Kasuga, Tianyou Zhao, the love of your life, would be nothing but a corpse rotting in an unmarked grave right now.

But had no way of knowing this, of course. No one knew about the two of you. That’s just how it had to be for both your protection and Zhao’s.

It wouldn’t have looked good for the leader of the Liumang and a high-ranking officer of the Geomijul to be in a relationship together. The balance would appear skewed, as if your love would tip the scales in favor of one faction or the other. And none of the factions could risk you spilling the confidential information you’d learned over the years by working for all three.

It had been a huge gamble you both had taken by entering a secret relationship, but one you couldn’t say you ever regretted. Your time with Zhao had been the happiest of your life.

The whole thing started a little over three years ago when the Liumang had thieves within their ranks.

Normally, thievery was taken care of in-house, same as with the Geomijul, but these thieves were cleverer than most. Despite massive sums of money disappearing, sometimes even overnight, no one could find their trail. They had combed over the financial records repeatedly, interrogated anyone with access to these records, and always came up empty handed.

Finally, with no other options, a representative contacted Geomijul for help and you were contracted out for a modest fee.

The contract was initially for thirty days with the option to renew it in thirty-day blocks if finding them proved complicated even for you. Considering the magnitude of the theft, you felt thirty days was an overly optimistic timeframe. You were going to be combing over all the financial records for the Liumang from the last year, including all businesses operating within their area, as well as for the organization itself. This was going to take a long time and a lot of patience.

Anytime a contract took you into Liumang or Seiryu territory for more than a day’s work, they wanted you on site until the job was finished. It was too much of a risk having you come and go freely, but you didn’t mind. Both factions always treated you as a welcome guest, even if your freedom was a bit restricted during that time.

You were set up with a modest apartment in the district, all your daily living necessities provided at no cost to you. All you brought with you was a few changes of clothes and your regular toiletries. Your workspace was set up in an unused office on the ground floor of Qing Jin, the high-end restaurant that served as Liumang’s headquarters. They gave you a day to get unpacked and settled in, then after that, you went right to work.

Every morning, a guard escorted you from your apartment to the restaurant, then escorted you back that night when you were done for the day. You had a habit of losing track of time while working, so you always ended up falling into bed close to the wee hours of the morning. You didn’t mind though. The one day a week you had off was more than enough to catch up on sleep, send out your laundry and write up your progress report for the higher ups.

Unfortunately, your progress reports during the first few weeks didn’t have much to report. These thieves, whoever they were, were good. Outside of standard accounting errors where someone forgot to carry a number or subtracted an expense wrong, you didn’t find any major discrepancies.

No one bothered you while you were working, at least until you were going into your fourth week. It was at that point, someone decided to check in on you. But you were so focused on your work that you didn’t hear anyone enter the office, nor did you hear your name being called. You didn’t become aware that you weren’t alone anymore until you felt a hand on your shoulder.

It scared the hell out of you.

You jumped so hard you nearly turned over your chair, a loud shriek leaving your mouth that also startled the man in question. The man jumped back from your chair, startled himself by your scream. You stared at each other for a few seconds before you both started laughing.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya,” he said through his laughter and held up his hands.

“It’s alright,” you said, pressing one palm to your chest and taking a deep breath to calm yourself. “It happens. I get a little too focused on what I’m doing sometimes.”

“That ain’t a bad thing,” the man said, a good-natured grin coming to his face as he looked at you over his glasses. “You’re a hard worker, that’s a rare thing to find sometimes.”

While you’d never spoken to this man before, you had noticed he was there at the restaurant nearly every day. It was hard not to; his leather jacket and relaxed way of dressing made him stick out like a sore thumb among the flashy suits all the other men wore.

At that point, you’d never met the leader of the Liumang before and, thus, had no idea who it was you were talking to. You just assumed he worked at the restaurant.

“Speaking of hard work, have you taken any breaks?’ he asked. “Have you eaten today?”

You blinked a few times, the question catching you off guard.

“Yeah, this morning,” you replied. “I had a sandwich before I came in.”

The man looked at his watch and tutted at you.

“You got here almost nine hours ago,” he said. “You seriously haven’t had anything since then?”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “It’s fine though, I’ll eat after I’m done for the night. That’s what I normally do.”

The man tutted at you again, shook his head in disapproval and left the room without another word.

That was strange, you thought to yourself.

No one had ever bothered to check in on you before. You didn’t think more of it though, just shrugged and got back to work.

Sometime later, the man came back, knocking loudly on the doorframe this time to announce his presence.

“Who’s hungry?” he stated.

Looking up from your work, you blinked a few times in surprise.

“Huh?” you said.

“Dinner’s ready,” he replied. “Time to eat.”

“Oh, that’s really not necessary,” you said, then gestured to all the paperwork on the desk. “I haven’t had any luck finding what I’m looking for, and I don’t want to make your boss think I’m slacking off.”

The man blinked at you a few times, then a grin spread across his face.

“Actually, it was the boss who sent me down here,” he stated. “He noticed how hard you’ve been working and wanted me to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

Your mouth dropped open a little and you gawped at the man.

“Really?” you asked.

“Yup,” he said, nodding. “After all, it’s much easier to think when you have a full stomach.”

He took a few steps into the room and then bowed grandly, gesturing out the door with one arm.

“Now, come have dinner with me,” he said. “Bosses orders.”

You couldn’t argue that, so you left the desk to follow the man.

The restaurant was closed for a deep cleaning thar day, so there weren’t any customers or even many employees about. He led you up the stairs to the second floor, where you found yourself at a table loaded down with food.

“Once I got in the kitchen, I realized I didn’t know what you like, so I made a little bit of everything,” he stated as he pulled a chair out for you and gestured for you to sit.

You stared at him in shock for a moment before taking the offered seat. He pushed your chair back up to the table as you sat.

“Are you the chef here?” you asked.

“Something like that,” he said, walking around the table to take a seat across from you. “Now dig in, I can hear your stomach complaining from here.”

It was true. As soon as all the delicious smells hit your nose, you realized exactly how hungry you were.

Most evenings after that, you had dinner with him. It wasn’t always at the same time, but it always happened the same way. He’d come to ask if you’d eaten, you’d say no and then, next thing you knew, you were sitting at a table filled with enough to feed an army even though it was just the two of you.

The conversation was light the first few times you ate together, mainly basic topics like food and what you both liked to do outside of work. That’s how you found out cooking was a hobby of his rather than his job, but something he really enjoyed doing. Much like you with accounting, being a chef was something he would’ve loved to do had he not been in the Liumang.

After your contract was renewed for another thirty days, the two of you began opening to each other about more personal topics. As it turned out, you both had remarkably similar childhoods. Both of you were born into your factions and were expected to follow in your respective father’s footsteps. While he never told you exactly what his father did, and you never asked, it sounded as if he was higher up just as yours had been. It was clear that you’d both had big shoes to fill and, being the dutiful children you were, were still doing your best to live up to those lofty expectations.

While he didn’t outright say it, his tone and body language while talking about it gave away the same discontent with things that you felt. Life was good, yes. Neither of you could complain, nor did you have any right to, but you both knew there was more to life than what the factions provided.

In those weeks, you found yourselves growing closer with each conversation. He was easy to talk to, easy to open yourself up to. You felt a deep connection with him, a kinship you’d never felt with anyone outside of Seonhee, but in a way that was more than just friendship. Anytime you were with him, you felt a spark inside that had the potential to grow into an inferno should you both allow it.

It was a shame, really, since you knew nothing could come of it.

Halfway into your second month with the Liumang, you finally made a breakthrough in tracking down the theft. You began to pick up on their trail. It wasn’t much at first, just a small pattern in the numbers that was so subtle you almost didn’t notice it. But once you did, you began to get an idea of how they got away with it for so long without being noticed and how far back it went.

Rather than making your job easier, finding the evidence made it even more complicated. The Liumang had to pull more financial records for you dating back to the last three years and you had to go back over some of the records you had already done to re-examine the accounting errors you’d found. A lot of them ended up tying it in with the theft, but without knowing the pattern, they had looked kosher your first time over them.

These thieves were good. Some of the best you’d seen, in fact, if not the best. Whoever this mastermind was, they were just as good at numbers as you were.

Your contract was extended again by another thirty days as you became absorbed in your work. With your workload increased, you found yourself staying even later than before, sometimes working through the night, and only getting a short nap on the small couch there in the office. The fancy dinners came to a stop for a while, but your new friend always made sure you took a break to eat. Even on the days you didn’t see him, someone always brought up a takeout container of food for you to graze on while you worked.

But pushing yourself like that had a major drawback. I quickly wore you out. Soon you were exhausted, not only physically but mentally as well. You weren’t taking days off anymore and it was catching up to you. This job was far more in-depth and rigorous than anything you’d encountered.

The boss eventually noticed that your work had slowed, but rather than crack the whip like you would have expected, the opposite happened.

One night when your friend grabbed you for dinner, rather than the normal selection of water and tea to drink, there was a bottle of wine at the table.

At first you protested, insisting you couldn’t drink since you had more work to do, but he waved them off.

“One drink with dinner won’t kill ya,” he stated as he filled up a glass and set it in front of you. “You’re way too stressed out; you need to unwind and relax. Boss’s orders.”

As much as he used the boss as an excuse to get you to do things you normally wouldn’t do while on a job, you had to wonder if they really were orders from his boss, but you gave in since you weren’t in any position to question it.

As the two of you ate and the conversation flowed, one glass turned into two. The conversation turned flirty and two turned into three. With that second refill, he took the seat next to you rather than returning to his own. And then, the next thing you knew, you were sitting in his lap sharing a slow, deep kiss.

There was no denying the spark anymore, and it was clear he felt it too. While there was lust in the way his lips moved against yours, there was no sense of urgency, no rush to do anything more. He was taking his time just as you were, holding you close but loose enough you could easily pull away if you wanted.

You weren’t sure how long you were like that before his lips parted from yours. At first, you felt some disappointment, but that didn’t last for more than a second before he shifted downwards towards your neck. Your breath caught in your throat as you let your head fall back a little, giving him better access.

“You know what?” he muttered against your skin, waiting for you to hum in acknowledgement before continuing. “You should take the rest of the night off.”

His words made your heartbeat faster, but you couldn’t help a small chuckle.

“Now that I’m pretty sure the boss would frown on,” you said, softly tracing the tips of your fingers over the back of his neck.

“Trust me, he really won’t give two shits about that,” he muttered quickly, then nipped at your collarbone. “Let me take care of you tonight, baby. Please.”

It was tempting, so very tempting. He was making you feel things you hadn’t felt in a long time, if ever.

Before you could answer though, a thought occurred to you. It is something you always meant to ask him, but it always slipped your mind when you were together. Now seemed as good of a time as any since you were seriously considering taking him back to your room.

“You know what?” you said, then waited for him to hum in acknowledgment before continuing. “You’ve never told me your name.”

His lips were beginning to trail down to your chest when he suddenly froze at your words, then slowly pulled back to look at you. For the first time since you met him, he looked nervous.

“I’ll tell you my name,” he said, swallowing heavily. “But promise you won’t freak out?”

You tilted your head at him curiously.

“Why would your name freak me out?” you asked, then smiled as your voice took on a teasing tone. “Are you a famous celebrity living in hiding?”

Rather than get a laugh like you expected, he looked away from you. He was quiet for a moment, his brow furrowed as if thinking hard.

It was only then that you finally realized he had been hiding something from you.

“Something like that, yeah,” he said finally then sighed. “All right. My name is- “

Before he could finish his sentence, from downstairs you heard the front door of the restaurant burst open and several pairs of feet urgently running towards the stairs.

“Boss!” a loud voice called. “Boss, where are you?”

Quite suddenly, you found yourself deposited back in your seat as your friend jumped to his feet. He grabbed his glasses off the table then and quickly moved around the table to his original chair across from you.

“Act natural,” he said quietly, putting his glasses back on.

His entire demeanor changed at that moment. Gone was the relaxed pose and easy-going attitude you were accustomed to seeing, replaced by an authoritative energy and piercing gaze.

By the time four gruff looking men made it up the stairs, you both had gotten yourselves back to the appearance of having dinner together.

The men looked around frantically, saw you two at the table and hurried over.

“Boss,” the man in the lead said and you recognized it as the one who called out from downstairs. “We’ve got trouble over on Ijin Street. It’s those shit sucking bikers again.”

“Little fuckers don’t know when to give up, do they?” he replied, shaking his head. “Get Mabuchi down there, he’ll take care of it.”

“That’s just it boss, they’ve got him and some of his boys cornered.”

You took a bite of your food and kept your face neutral as you watched your friend jump out of his chair so fast it nearly tipped over. His demeanor changed again, his calm facade slipping into one of anger.

“Then why the fuck didn’t you lead with that?” he snarled, quickly jumping to his feet, and grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair. “Round up as many of the guys as you can. This shit’s gonna end tonight!”

Now that they had their orders, the men scrambled back downstairs to carry them out. Your friend started to follow, putting on his jacket as he went, but stopped just before he left the room, and turned back towards you.

“I meant what I said before,” he stated, his voice still authoritative but softer now as he addressed you. “Take the rest of the night off. You deserve it.”

Speechless, you simply nodded. Then flashed you a grin and a wink and followed his men.

Even if he hadn’t given you the go ahead to take the night off, there wouldn’t have been any way for you to focus after that. Realizing you had fallen for none other than the leader of the Yokohama Liumang, Tianyou Zhou himself, had shocked you to your core.

Presently, a commotion in Survive startled you out of your thoughts and you looked over towards the door. Iroha had returned from her shopping trip. You watched as the bartender went over to help her lug a new sleeping mat upstairs. That meant your room would be ready soon and you would be able to get cleaned up, changed, and finally get some rest. Just that alone thought made you aware of just how exhausted you were. It had been a very long night, and you couldn’t wait to fall into bed. Honestly, if given enough time alone, you could’ve easily fallen asleep right there at the bar. To keep that from happening though, you returned to your thoughts and remembered the remainder of your time spent with the Liumang.

You didn’t see Zhao again until your job was done. After the night you learned of his real identity, it only took two more weeks for you to figure out who was responsible for the theft. There were six men total that were behind it all and they were quickly taken care of. With that done, all you had left was to complete a final audit and make sure the books could pass a government inspection, which only took a couple of days.

While you were waiting for the car that was coming to take you home, Zhao came downstairs and dismissed the guard who had been waiting with you.

“I’ll take it from here,” he said. “I have one last thing to discuss with them before they’re off.”

He waited until it was just the two of you before speaking again.

And this time when he spoke, it was as the man you shared dinner with all those times, not the leader of the Liumang.

“I’m sorry about lying to you,” he said, then chuckled nervously. “But when I figured out you didn’t know who I was, I thought not knowing might make it easier for you to relax.”

You waved off his apology with a smile.

“It’s okay,” you said. “You were right, I would have had my guard up the whole time.”

He nodded, chuckled, then started rubbing the back of his neck.

“Would it be okay with you if I asked for your phone number?” he asked.

You raised an eyebrow.

“Is that even allowed?” you said. “I mean, we’re technically not even on the same side here.”

“What people don’t know won’t kill ‘em,” he said, then winked at you with a grin. “Or us.”

You couldn’t help but grin back at him and slipped him one of your fake business cards with your very real personal cell number written on the back.

Since you had to keep the whole thing a secret, it was like a long-distance relationship in the sense that most of it occurred through text messages and late-night phone calls. Occasionally, Zhao was able to slip away from his bodyguards to sneak off to your apartment, but those times were very few and far between. It was extremely dangerous for him to enter Geomijul territory, yet he always managed to slip in and out without being noticed. He never could stay the night though, just a few hours at most. You’d fall asleep in his arms, then wake up alone the next morning. While it made you sad, you wouldn’t have traded those few hours with him for anything.

Another commotion in the bar roused you from your thoughts again, this time from Adachi and Nanba enthusiastically greeting someone. You assumed it was Kasuga returning from his meeting and turned to greet the man as well. Instead, you saw it was Joongi Han who had arrived.

Sliding carefully off the barstool, you got to your feet to greet your old friend, but you froze in place as you watched another man limp into the bar behind him.

It was Zhao. And your heart broke at the sight of him.

The Liumang traitors had put him through hell, the results of the beating they had given were obvious. He moved slowly, a slight wince on his swollen lips as he walked, one arm hugged tight across his abdomen in an indication of broken ribs. His face was battered and bruised, scabs and dried blood caking areas of his skin.

It was obvious he was in a lot of pain, but little showed on his face. The man was an expert on hiding how he truly felt unless you knew how to read him.

Your first instinct was to rush over to him, to take him in your arms and comfort him, to take care of him in his time of need. It took everything you had, a willpower you didn’t even know you possessed, but you managed to stay rooted in place.

Zhao nodded a greeting to the others, then his gaze quickly swept the room, as if searching for something. When his eyes landed on you, they widened in shock, his expression looking as taken back as you felt. You hadn’t looked in a mirror yet, but you assumed you probably looked about as bad as you felt.

The reservations you had about rushing over to him he clearly didn’t share. He strode right over to you as quickly as his injuries would allow and, in full view of everyone, pulled you into a tight hug. It made you both gasp in pain, but you didn’t care about the pain. All you cared about was the man holding you in his arms.

“Should we be doing this here?” you muttered against his jacket, holding it tightly in your fists as if afraid he’d disappear.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” he said, then pulled back slightly to look at you. “I’ve stepped down from the Liumang. Seonhee oversees both factions now.”

That surprised you and your mouth dropped open.

“Seonhee?” you repeated, and he nodded in acknowledgement.

It took a moment, but things finally started clicking in your head.

“Then that means…we’re both civilians now?”

Zhao smiled a little and brought one hand up to caress your uninjured cheek.

“Yeah, we are,” he said softly. “We don’t have to hide anymore, baby.”

The effect of his words was immediate. Suddenly the mask you always wore around others was gone and the walls you’d built around yourself to protect yourself from outsiders came crashing down.

You couldn’t stop yourself from kissing him, tears of happiness and relief streaming down your face. The force of the kiss made you both wince, but he only pulled you closer, returning it with just as much passion.

You were so engrossed in one another that neither of you heard Han grumble to Namba about how he now owed Seonhee a thousand yen thanks to you two.

It wasn’t long before Kasuga returned from his meeting. By the time he’d filled you all in on what happened, your room had long since been ready, so you and Zhao retired upstairs for the night. While there wasn’t much room, the space was only a little bigger than your average walk-in closet, it was more than enough for the two of you.

Between the broken ribs and the lingering effects of a dislocated shoulder, getting his jacket and shirt off was slow going, but you managed. After filling a small basin with warm water from the sink in the other room, you helped clean him up. Once the dried blood and dirt was washed away, you applied the herbal poultice the bartender made to his wounds and bruises, then wrapped them in bandages.

While you insisted that he rest, Zhao insisted it was his turn now, wanting to take care of you as you did him. You changed the water in the basin since you could move around a little easier than he could, but once that was done, he took over as caregiver. He helped you undress and gently cleaned your wounds, softly kissing your neck and shoulders as he went, and dressed your injuries just as you did for him.

By the time he finished, your body felt electrified, and you couldn’t help but find his lips with yours. The kiss was softer than the one you shared downstairs, soft enough it didn’t hurt. He was more than eager to return your affection, his hands trailing gently along your body, caressing all the places you loved to be touched.

Considering the state you were both in, physical activity should have been the last thing on your mind. But at that moment, the need for physical touch and comfort overrode all common sense and logic. Soon you were under him on the bed. He held most of his weight off you with his good arm, your bodies close but not crushed together. His thrusts were slow to keep from hurting either of you, even slower than the times he’d teased you and taken his time with you. But, despite that, neither of you were able to last long. The fact it had been weeks since you’d last seen each other combined with the fear you’d lost one another to build a foundation for quick, earth-shattering orgasms. Afterwards, you passed out in each other’s arms, exhausted and hurting like hell, but happy.

When the next morning came, you were lulled up from sleep by a severe pounding in your head. You made the mistake of cracking your eyes open and then immediately shut them again with a groan. The tiny window in the room had no curtain, allowing bright sunlight to beam directly into your eyes. The sharp pain it sent into your brain caused your eyes and nose to water. It took a little while but eventually the pain began to recede back down to a throb. As it did, you became more aware of your body, and you wished you were still asleep.

You felt like total, absolute garbage.

From the top of your head to bottom of your feet, every single part of your body hurt horribly.

But then you became aware of a different sensation, one that was a contrast to all the pain. It was soft, a very gentle stroking feeling on your upper arm that was soothing.

You risked cracking your eyes open again. While it still hurt, you were prepared for the light this time, so it wasn’t quite as bad. Carefully, you tilted your head up and found yourself looking at Zhao’s smiling face. You were still laying in his arms, your head against his chest.

“Morning baby,” he said softly.

“Morning,” you whispered, then you smiled. “You’ve never stayed the night before.”

“First time for everything,” he replied with a chuckle, then he softly kissed you on the forehead. “Now I can always be by your side.”

While your heart swelled at his words, a thought occurred to you that made your smile falter and you looked away from him.

Now that you were both normal, everyday civilians, your lives were about the drastically change. Things were about to become much, much harder for the both of you. While The Geomijul had never been the wealthiest of factions, The Liumang, however, were a different story. They easily rivaled The Seiryu Clan in terms of finances, even if it didn’t appear that way on the surface. From birth until now, anything Zhao desired could be his. From the everyday necessities of life to fancy cars, dinners, and women, all he had to do was snap his fingers and it would be his.

Sensing your sudden turn of mood, Zhao lifted his free hand to gently take ahold of your chin and tilt your head up, so you were meeting his gaze once again.

“Hey now,” he said softly. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

You started to nervously chew on your bottom lip but stopped when you accidentally bit down on the scab that was running right down the middle. It made you wince, and Zhao tutted at you with a chuckle.

“It’s just…won’t you get bored?” you finally asked. “We’re not going to have much of anything. My whole life burnt to the ground, everything I own is now in this room.”

He shook his head.

“I’ve never cared about any of that,” he said, stroking your arm again, but this time in a gesture of comfort. “But getting to wake up with you in my arms…now that’s something grand. I want to be here with you. I want to be by your side, now and forever. You’re the one that I love, and now I have the chance to love you the way I want to. The way you deserve.”

There were no more words needed at that point, neither from him nor from you.

The kiss that followed said anything that remained unsaid.

#tianyou zhao x reader #tianyou zhao #zhao tianyou #yakuza imagines #yakuza fanfiction #yakuza headcanons #ryu ga gotoku #yakuza #yakuza like a dragon

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insane-control-room · 2 months

Text

Blank Slate

Ink Demonth - Nostalgia

Can you really feel nostalgia for something you've never experienced?

Rated: G Warnings: Mild death mention AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57845263 Length: 750

They say that smell is one of the most powerful forms of evoking a memory.

That, for some reason, a smell can evoke the soul of the past.

Judaically, the nose being the pathway for human life’s very existence is the key to this innate connection between memory and scent; between soul and aura.

Henry cannot smell, though. Henry can see and hear, but taste, touch, and scent- these senses have always been distant for him. Maybe that was why some people called him stiff or cold. Or maybe it was because he was not his own controller. That second thought was not one that passed his mind, but is a more likely reason that he is unaware of.

He steps into the studio. He can see the rotating, shifting film reel that was once a symbol of a glorious animation company, up and rising. Henry sees and, in his heart, feels quiet violin strings stroking a solemn melody. No spirit of prophecy here, though- only a sad, wistful memory.

Henry goes through the old studio, he hears the clicks and whirs of the machine. He starts it, he sees something that should not be, and he falls.

Henry’s path traverses through the whole studio. It goes through the music department, dips into storage rooms, flits along the stairs and up and down and down and down and down the elevator. Henry walks, sees, and listens, as he goes through the accounting department; finding more and more bits of people that he may or may not have known. Then, coming back, they are gone. He keeps going, and he sees, hears, memories that may not be his. He looks down an abyss, feels a soft tingle of not quite fear- maybe a thrill, knowing he will not fall, but tempting safety like this is a satisfying lean over the void.

Henry plays some carnival games. He listens to recordings, looks at scrawled notes, runs from the light- the light that he thought he killed earlier, but now- now the thing that should not be kills it again. Maybe for good. But some little part of Henry knows that they will come back. They always come back.

He takes a ride. He sees a man, in the ride, and he sees the dizzying spin of the ride’s car. His ax swings, swings, swings, and then he hears the clanking and crashing, and then he sees the burn and smoke.

He leaves the man who never left, and takes another ride.

He puts down a dog.

He watches a woman die.

He listens to a five minute monologue.

He has a tool now. It sits in his hand, hardly noticeable. He can see something else now.

Henry pulls a spoon, lifts a lid, and slips away.

The hum of the engine and the cloying creak of a jam, the splash and awe of a hand rising from the depths, the endless tides of black liquid, ink bodies, another person who must have once been a friend killed by another. A path, a fall, and a game of ring around the rosie.

Ashes

The bright light hurts to see.

A home that is not his. Newspaper clippings he should know. Drawings and doodles. The sound of dishes being done, quiet and homely. A man that is unfamiliar- but whose voice he has heard before, in the recordings, in the depths.

Henry steps into the studio.

Now, the song is familiar, the sight is understandable, and now, with that pre-established recollection, now, it floods him. A small smile crosses Henry’s face. He is now back in that old studio. He steps through the hall, footsteps almost entirely silent. He looks at the little demon on the projector across the room, he turns his head side to side- he does not see the tallies behind him.

Because now, the nostalgia begins.

Henry, with that same quiet melody on his heart, goes to the machine. He sees a corpse. He finds a hole through reality. He falls through the floor. He hears whistling past the room with the madman, ignoring the beat of danger that tries to distract him, he sees beams of sunlight.

He gives a dog a bone.

He gives an angel her demands.

He cuts through the world, going through in a breeze.

He fights, and fights, and fights, and then the light does not hurt so much.

Henry smiles at the voice, eyes closed.

He can imagine the smell of soap.

#control art #control draws #batim #bendy and the ink machine #henry stein #time loops #control writes #jewish themes by a jewish author #traditional art #short fic #memory

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oliverreedmasterass · 10 months

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Synopsis: A young Greta Van Fleet find hope in a local battle of the bands competition to finally catch their big break.

Words: 3.7k

Notes: Happy (belated) birthday to @infinisonicosm!! Thanks for sharing your brain baby with me and trusting me to write this out 😊

________________________________

Day Before the Competition

“How are you feeling?” Danny bumped shoulders with Sam as he caught up to him in their crowded high school hallway during their ten minute break. Sam had been trying to get his oversized backpack secured back on, and stumbled a bit at Danny’s contact.

“Terrified,” he squeaked out, clutching onto one of the lockers near him to stay upright.

“Are you really?” Danny suddenly looked concerned. Sam stared back at him and gave a half shrug, like he was still trying to make up his mind.

“How about you?” he asked back. Danny had trouble hiding his wide beam, which was all Sam needed to see to nod his head with a chuckle. “Obviously feeling pretty good,” he said.

“This could be our big break!” Danny’s voice rose in eager anticipation. “I mean, imagine it, Sam. We win and then get to record one of our songs to play on the radio. That would be huge!”

“We need to win first though,” Sam reminded Danny.

“Which you are gonna do,” Sam and Danny’s friend, Tom, told them as he came to their side. “I can’t wait to finally see you guys perform.”

“It does stink that your parents won’t let you come and see us at our biker bar gigs,” Danny told him.

“Right?” Tom widened his eyes. “I mean, I’m almost 18, I should be able to go to a biker bar if I want to.”

“Trust me, you’re not missing out on anything,” Sam reassured Tom. “It’s a bunch of people who are tired of life. It’s actually kinda depressing, you know, when they aren’t pounding each others’ faces in.”

“That’s the kind of action I want to catch though!” Tom protested.

Their other friend, Leah, joined the group. “What kind of action are you looking to catch?” she smirked at Tom. His face immediately flushed scarlet, which left Danny and Sam laughing loud. Leah turned to them both once they were done ridiculing Tom and put her hands in her pockets, like she wasn’t sure what to do with them. “I’m gonna be driving a full car out to the fields tomorrow,” she shared. “We’re all really looking forward to seeing your band play.”

“Who all is coming?” Sam asked around. As nervous as he was, he was pretty thrilled that he would finally be able to play in front of his friends. He could finally show them that all the time he spent in his garage with his brothers and Danny wasn’t for nothing. Leah thought it over.

“Well, there’s me, Tom, Mikey, Ash, Rachel, Ian, Chrissy, and Jay,” Leah counted out on her fingers. Everyone studied her hand and took note that she had eight fingers out.

“How many seats does your car have?” Danny had to ask. Leah let out a chuckle.

“Ian’s gonna sit in the trunk.”

“We did nose goes and he lost,” Tom clarified.

“I’m sure one of you guys could come with us,” Danny tried to think on his feet. The road out to the fairground fields was a bumpy one, and he knew for a fact that it would be torture experiencing that from the trunk of a car. Not to mention super illegal. Tom and Leah both shook their heads.

“We want to get as many people out there as we can,” Tom explained. “If we can get some more people on board, we’ll take two cars.”

“Good,” Danny breathed out, trying to get the image of Ian crammed behind a row of seats out of his head.

“Do you have a setlist down?” Leah asked between Danny and Sam. “How is this battle of the bands gonna work anyways?”

“We’re still working on the setlist,” Sam answered her first question. “We’re gonna have to figure that one out during rehearsal after class today. I can only imagine how much arguing is gonna go down between Jake and Josh over it, but we’re both used to it.”

“Unfortunately,” Danny muttered, remembering the time that Jake had hoisted Josh over his head and threatened to chuck him out the miniscule window in their garage. Danny and Sam had to de-escalate things by playing “We Are Family” on full blast and reminding Jake about the importance of brotherhood.

“You doing Free Bird?” Tom poked fun. That earned him a snort from Danny and a playful slap on the arm from Sam. “How about Stairway?” he tried again.

“You wish,” Sam chuckled.

“We have to get through three rounds before the finals,” Danny shared with his friends. Sam nodded along; this was information that Jake had drilled into their heads over the past few months. “In the first two rounds, we only get one song to impress the judges.”

“That’s when you play Free Bird,” Tom pointed out.

“We’ve got some good ones up our sleeves,” Danny promised him.

“Round three we get to play three songs, and then the finals are two bands going head to head, playing a total of five songs," Sam added.

“That sounds pretty intense,” Leah blew out a whistle. The battle of the bands was scheduled to happen over two days at Frankenmuth’s AutoFest festival, bringing in rock bands from across the state. Greta Van Fleet had been searching near and far for their big break and, after they first heard about the competition, there was a sense of excitement amongst them that this could finally be it.

“It’ll be fun,” Danny promised, wrapping his arm around Sam and pulling him in close. Sam snorted in return, but leaned into Danny’s grasp. The bell ending their break sounded overhead, and they untangled from each other. Leah and Tom parted ways, promising to check in later about plans and wishing them luck. Once they were gone, Sam looked back at Danny.

“Have you heard any more about the other bands that are supposed to be playing in this thing? You seem uncharacteristically cocky.”

“Most of the bands seem pretty inexperienced,” Danny confided. “But there’s one from Detroit to keep an eye on. They have a guitarist who seems to know his shit.”

“Jake should love that,” Sam thought aloud. Jake usually got butthurt when he was around people who could play better than him. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, you could tell Jake was seething on the inside. “What about the rest of the band?” Sam checked.

“I guess we’re gonna find out,” Danny laughed. Sam tried to laugh with him, but he struggled.

Sam wanted to go into the battle of the bands more confident than ever so they could knock it out of the park. He tried to picture himself strutting onto the decent-sized stage in the middle of the large AutoFest open field, dressed to the nines in his best flare pants, button up, and vest. All the other bands grouped around the wings of the stage would gape at Sam, Danny, and his brothers as they tore into their first song of the set, knocking everyone off their feet. And then their competitors would throw in the towel and drop out, letting Greta Van Fleet win by default. The problem was, Sam knew that would never happen. He still wasn’t super thrilled with his dad’s bass that he was stuck playing. The strings went out of tune fast, and he had a hard time wrapping his fingers fully around the neck so he could hit all of his notes. He knew that he was good at keeping a steady rhythm and flying off the rails with creative riffs where it was appropriate, but there was still doubt bubbling in his gut. Sam was just a high school senior, on the brink of graduating. He was supposed to go to college and become an engineer. The whole rockstar thing was still fairly foreign to him, even though Jake assured him it was his destiny.

Sam wished he could voice his doubts to Danny, but the way he saw his friend strut around the hallway to their science class, giving lowerclassmen high fives who wished them luck on their gig, he knew they wouldn’t see eye to eye. Danny had always wanted to do something related to music (or golf). He was on the right path. Sam wondered if maybe Josh would see where he was coming from, since he was considering putting his film career on hold if things with the band really started to pick up.

That brought some comfort to Sam’s racing mind, and was enough to get him through the rest of the school day without curling up into the fetal position and crying out for help.

*****

Once school let out, Sam met Danny at his locker and they made their way out to the front to retrieve their bikes. As they worked on opening their locks, Danny chuckled down at his bike.

“We’re seniors and we’re still riding these things to school every day.”

“It’s better for the environment,” Sam joked back. “We’re single-handedly saving the planet.”

“If we win this competition, I’m taking whatever earnings we get from radio play to get myself a nice ride.”

“I’m not sure that we’d really earn that much from radio play.”

“Just, let me dream here, Sam.”

“Okay, okay. What car would you get?”

“A Toyota Camry,” Danny grinned off into the distance, as if he was picturing the car in front of him. “Either red or blue.”

“At least you’re reasonable,” Sam couldn’t help but laugh.

They hopped on their bikes and started biking back towards Sam’s house, where Jake and Josh were sure to be waiting for them so they could get started on their band practice.

“What are you gonna do with your share of the money?” Danny called over his handlebars to Sam, who was biking just ahead of him. Sam considered Danny’s question and shook his head.

“I feel like I would be super jinxing us if I answered that.”

“It’s a hypothetical question,” Danny called back. Sam thought about it more.

“I guess,” he drew out his response, “I would probably buy a pair of birks.”

“That’s it?” Danny couldn’t hide his shock. “Those must be some expensive sandals.”

“They kinda are,” Sam looked over his shoulder to tell Danny. He felt his gut flop around in frustrated confusion. In his mind, he wanted to take that hypothetical money and put it towards his college tuition. But he wasn’t sure if that was something that Danny really wanted to hear. Danny always seemed a bit concerned when Sam made offhand comments about going out of state to study and take a break from the bass.

They squealed to a stop in front of Sam’s family house, hopped off their road bikes with ease, and rolled them to the foot of the garage door, which was opened wide. Jake and Josh were in separate corners of the space, Josh sitting with his legs crossed on the pavement, writing in his notebook while Jake tried to restring his guitar. Their heads both snapped up at Danny and Sam as they approached them.

“Have a good day?” Josh greeted them, slamming his notebook shut. Sam had quickly caught sight that Josh was brainstorming their setlists, as if preparing for battle against Jake.

“Nothing to complain about,” Danny answered back as he threw his backpack onto the couch they had all carried from Goodwill to spruce their practice space up. “It sounds like we’re gonna have a decent turnout cheering us on.”

“That’s awesome,” Jake commented. He looked back down at his guitar and twisted the peg with a grunt to get the string back in place. “If we have a lot of people backing us up, it might influence the judges to score us higher.”

“You both doing good?” Danny asked between the twins.

“I got out of class early which gave me more time to think about songs,” Josh answered with a smile. “It seemed like a bit of good luck, honestly.”

“I got these strings on discount,” Jake smirked as he continued to work. “I befriended the guy at the music store after playing some of my riffs on one of the test guitars. He was treating me like a god, so I decided to bank on that.”

“That must be really good for your obviously crippling ego,” Sam poked fun at his older brother. He was jealous of how much power and confidence Jake radiated anytime he had his hands on his guitar.

“Quit it,” Jake gave Sam a testing glance. Sam knew better than to keep pushing his buttons, especially that early into their practice session. He could start berating his bandmates after a few songs; that was when it was more acceptable to lose all decorum.

Sam joined Danny on the couch and motioned at Josh’s notebook.

“So, setlist?”

“I’ve got a few variations that we could consider, but I’m curious what you’re all thinking.”

“Edge of Darkness,” Jake started to list off, “Black Flag Exposition, Free Bird…”

“You asshole,” Josh laughed at Jake. “I’m limiting you to two solos for the competition.”

“Do you wanna win this thing or not?” Jake crossed his arms.

“Here we go,” Sam mumbled to Danny. He could tell Jake and Josh were seconds away from throwing whatever they could get their hands on at each other. For Jake, there was an old lamp within reach (which he had done before). Josh had a bowling ball close to him, which made Sam worried.

“We’re gonna win by playing together, as a group,” Danny reminded the twins. “We need to focus on showcasing our strongest songs.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Josh’s hands uncurled from their tightened fists so he could pick back up his discarded notebook. “What if we started things off with Thunderstomp? That one usually sounds pretty good.”

“We have a five minute limit on our first song,” Jake reminded Josh. “I don’t think we can do Thunderstomp in that amount of time. I need enough space for my solo, I can’t cut that baby down. It’s when I take the crowd on a trip.”

“All right, simmer down, rock n’ roll sherpa,” Josh smirked at his brother. Jake gave him a raspberry in return, as if they were a couple of bickering toddlers.

Sam was glad that Jake was vetoing Josh’s idea. He wasn’t about to say it aloud, but there were some lines that got his fingers all twisted. Sure, he had written the part himself, but he found that, if he let his mind wander while he played, he was bound to play something wrong, which Jake could always hear. Sam really didn’t enjoy seeing Jake scowl back at him.

“We could do Fast Train Blues?” he piped up. That song had a fun bass part that he was proud of. Danny, Jake, and Josh considered Sam’s suggestion, and then looked around at each other. Finally, Jake gave in with a nod.

“That would be a good one to get the people into it. A little blues hurt no one.”

“Okay, I can see it,” Josh agreed. “We get the people thinking we’re a bluesy band and then, bam! We bust out the hard rock and blow everyone away.”

“I was actually thinking, if we make it to the second round, we should do an acoustic song,” Jake looked at Josh. Josh looked back at Jake like he was growing an arm out of his forehead.

“You? An acoustic song?” he pointed, his mouth hung open.

“What happened to Jake?” Danny looked equally surprised. “Mr. If It’s Not Plugged In, I Don’t Want It.”

“We need to show off our range,” Jake explained himself. “I also want to be the one to sing it.”

Now Josh’s eyes really bugged out. Sam could feel himself white knuckling the arm of the sofa that he was settled on. Jake knew better than to step on Josh’s toes.

“What am I supposed to do then?” Josh demanded to know. “Dance around like a monkey?”

“You’ll have a tambourine?” Jake attempted to plead his case. When met with a deep frown stretched across Josh’s face, Jake let out a frustrated huff. “If you knew how to play an actual instrument, this wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Singing is an instrument!” Josh protested.

“Ehhh…” the rest of the band countered.

Josh eyed the bowling ball next to him and seemed to be trying to work out if he had enough muscle to chuck the twelve pound ball at Jake’s head. He seemed to think better of it and instead opted to fling a tennis racket at Jake, hitting him straight in the gut. Jake keeled over but, after he caught his breath, he sent the racket flying back at Josh, missing him by a mile. Josh hopped from foot to foot pointing and cackling at Jake. That quickly came to a stop when Jake successfully got Josh in the shoulder with a can of refried beans.

“Ow!” Josh called out, clutching at his smarting wound and flopping onto the sofa between Danny and Sam.

“Are you done?” Sam asked between Jake and Josh. “I’d really like it if we could figure this out so we can get to practicing.”

“This isn’t settled yet,” Josh sternly told Sam. Then, he flopped around to face Jake, hurling the beans in his direction. It would have been a solid throw if Jake hadn’t slipped their dad’s old catcher’s mitt on while Josh was distracted, and caught the can before it could hit him in the chest.

“Why don’t you split up the song?” Danny stood in between Jake and Josh so they would stop throwing dangerous items at each other. “Switch at every verse.”

“I guess,” Jake murmured to the ground. Josh looked like he hated the idea, but didn’t protest.

“What song were you thinking of anyways?” Danny studied Jake.

“I wanna do a Fleet Foxes song,” Jake said. That seemed to get Josh to perk up.

“You’ve been listening to them?” he asked his brother, as if they hadn’t been out for each other’s blood less than a minute before. Jake looked back at him with a twinkle in his eye and nodded.

“You were totally right, they make shit that feels so raw and real at its core. I want to give them some love.”

“I told you you’d like it,” Josh told Jake. Then, he turned to Sam and Danny. “Same goes for you both.”

“Trust me, they’re heavy in my rotation,” Danny assured Josh. “Your Protector gives me chills every time I hear it.”

“This kid gets it,” Josh jutted his thumb in Danny’s direction. Then, he focused back on Jake. “So which song were you thinking? Blue Ridge Mountains? Helplessness Blues? Can I Believe You?”

“Ragged Wood,” Jake answered. Josh’s mouth formed into an “o.” “It’ll be bold to try and win an audience and judges over with an acoustic cover, but maybe that’s what we need to do to stand out.”

“Acoustic is a good way to show raw talent without hiding behind loud amps,” Sam thought aloud. He knew that for a fact because he was always scrutinizing his playing when it was acoustic. There was no hiding any of his mistakes.

“The kid is right,” Jake agreed with Sam. “We play a wholesome song to win more people over, and then we erupt like a volcano in round three. You know, if we get there and all.”

“Good, I thought you were gonna jinx us there,” Danny laughed at Jake.

“Why do you want to sing though?” Josh studied Jake. Sam could tell that Josh was still bothered that Jake wanted to take over his role in the band, even if it was only for one song. Jake tried to think carefully over his words.

“I want to challenge myself,” he replied. Danny looked at him with concern.

“Is this the best place to be doing that though? I mean, the stakes are kinda high. Maybe we would be better off playing it safe.”

“We’re a bunch of young guys,” Jake tried to defend himself. “When in history has anyone our age opted to play things safe? I think we need to go out there, guns a-blazing, and surprise not only our friends and family, but ourselves as well. We play our best when we’re testing out new things.”

“You mean when we’re stressed,” Sam spoke up.

“Kinda,” Jake’s face twisted.

“We’ll practice it a few times to see how we’re feeling,” Josh announced.

“What about the setlists for the other two rounds?” Danny asked.

“Nope,” Jake quickly interjected. “We can’t get too ahead of ourselves. We can figure it out if and when we get there. For now let’s focus on the songs we’ve got down now.”

Sam was more than ready to get practice in. It was what he had been waiting for all day. Danny, Josh, and Jake all repeatedly assured him that he was an incredible bass player, as did his friends and other family members, but Sam still had doubts buzzing around his head. Out of the rest of his band members, he felt the least experienced and, consequently, the most prone to make a mistake. He hoped that practicing for the rest of the day would kick his muscle memory into gear. That, and playing was often a good time for him to think about things. He hoped to gain some clarity on what was eating away at him concerning his future as they all plugged in their instruments and got ready to play.

“Ready for the most intense practice session of your life?” Josh called into his microphone, looking back at Danny, Jake, and Sam. Jake and Danny roared their approval and Sam gave a soft yeah. “Let’s not fuck up our futures!” Josh hollered, and then counted them in for their first run through of Fast Train Blues.

“Oh god,” Sam heaved out with worry. The music was too loud for anyone to hear him.

Next Part >>>

#greta van fleet #gvf #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet fic #gvf fanfiction #gvf fic #gvf fanfic #sam kiszka #danny wagner #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #sam gvf #danny gvf #jake gvf #josh gvf #battle of the bands

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gracefullou · 1 year

Note

Harry said he suggested the hiatus on his bta, either 2016/17, not sure, if anyone remembers correct me. Then he said he wanted to sing the whole song on an interview before fine line got released, December 2019

2017 is still 2 years after the hiatus. My bad then if he said it before fl. Still, he was portrayed as the professionnal one who despite struggling in the band stayed till the end of tour to suggest the hiatus unlike Zayn who received so much hate despite saying how much he was suffering mentally. Harry said he suggested the hiatus bc they were exhausted and needed a break but he literally signed his 3 albums solo contract A DAY after its beginning in a yacht with the likes Ellen and Kendall Jenner also his solo schedule is almost as exhaustive as it were in 1d (he's been touring for 3 years now not to mention his movies) so we know it wasn't the real reason behind it. I'm tired of anons playing the gullible to try and subtly (they think) defend him. It's a tale as old as time. The poular one (not by talent or charisma but choice from the higher ups) thinks he's too good for his band and wants to go solo, finds the opportunity and takes it. Only that man is a coward who wants everything. That man didn't even tell the truth to his bandmates so that in case he fails, he has a backup. He wanted ot5's support for his solo career so he didn't tell them either. I would've loved if he said that the band was in a permanent hiatus then the way he had no problem saying it in a Variety article in 2020 i think (i'm not sure which year and which magazine but i'm sure this one was after that pussy song's success) he would've saved us a lot of time, the same goes with him wanting to sing the whole song and not wanting to share his personal songs with the others bc believe me fandom's reaction to these statements would've been sooo different. And now he's mentioning 1d left and right as if he didn't ignore the band's existence for years, as if he didn't keep telling those unfunny Zebra jokes and that ringo joke on SNL, as if he didn't ignore Liam's existence at that Jingle Bell Ball, as if him/ his team doesn't waste a chance to insult Louis ( Variety ignoring Louis' existence in the band in that HS interview and a lot of things that happened during lockdown that i honestly don't remmember really well now you can look for it if you want. Idc if you think it's not him bc he personally chose to associate himself with Ash London and going as far as saying they're friends and he attended her wedding, he chooses to keep that stylist assistant who made fun of Louis' voice, he chose to say someone's mom about Jay even though it was a recorded interview and they could edit that bit out for him, back in the day he chose to stay silent and laugh along when Nick made fun of Louis....). If you're on stan twitter and can't see what a piece of shit HS is in the year of 2023, then there's no hope for you. And in 2023, the reason behind that band's hiatus is so very obvious for the ones who want to see and not live in denial.

#actually if you're a fan of that man after 2020 i can't trust you #bc he really showed his true colors #nothing ambiguous about it #if you still want to ignore everything he did from 2019 till 2023 for whatever reason it's your choice #but pls don't try to find ways to defend him in my inbox #bc case it wasn't clear i'm a HS hater #forever

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madame-mortician · 1 year

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Evil Dead the Game Deep Dive!

Yeah this game has lore. It’s not as deep as say, Dead by Daylight but it is still interesting nonetheless and would be interesting to see developed further.

I should start by saying that there seems to be three timelines happening which is confusing but I’ll do my best to explain.

Essentially there is the canon timeline, being the films and show, which this game doesn’t take place in, but has many references and call backs to. The second timeline is what I’ll call the Single Player Mission timeline, as it has the stuff happening from the single player missions. Finally is what I’ll call, the Game timeline since it’s literally, the game timeline.

The single player missions are all different events, that play out very similar to things in the main canon. For an example, one mission has David and Mia arrive to the cabin like in the 2013 film, however it is only David and Mia, and David survives the events. An interesting thing about these missions, is they have their own lore that I could talk about. For now I’ll just mention my favourite. In the David and Mia one, David’s goal is to find and kill 4 deadite Ash’s to exorcise Mia. David meets a possessed version of Ash from each film and kills them. Unfortunately there is no explanation for this, and it just kinda happens. Sadly this is true of most single player missions, as all of them are essentially just offline side missions you can do, with a barebones plot to give you some incentive. At first I thought these single player missions were the lore of the main game, but I don’t anymore because of something I’ll explain later.

Now let’s talk about the main game, and its lore. This lore comes with the Knowby Tapes, being literal tapes Raymond Knowby recorded. The first few are simply him explaining that he found and is currently studying the Necronomicon, however the plot becomes more interesting near the end. In the main timeline, Knowby tried to save his possessed wife by luring Tanya to the cabin, and having the deadite enter her instead. In this timeline a similar thing happens, however before trying to transfer the deadite to Tanya, he had a different plan. In the Necronomicon there is a lost page of “The Hero from the Sky” being Ash Williams from when he was in 1300A.D. Knowby knows of this hero, and how he “saved humanity from deadites” and decides only he can help him. In a desperate attempt to save his wife, and himself, he tried to summon Ash Williams only to fail and instead summon Henry the Red. Henry told Knowby that he had met Ash before and that he needed to kill Henrietta. In another attempt, Knowby accidentally summoned Kelly and Pablo, who also told him they knew Ash before they left the cabin with supplies. Right before they left, Pablo told Knowby he should kill Henrietta, but might be able to save her by transferring the deadite to somebody else, this being what caused Knowby to try and use Tanya, although it still failed. Some time later, Knowby had failed to summon Ash and instead went into hiding, leaving the tape and book behind along with his wife. The next week The Evil Dead takes place, with the only difference being that Shelly and Scotty attempt to use the tape recorder to record what just happened, so that whoever finds it knows what occurred. Skipping ahead, Evil Dead 2’s ending takes place however Ash instructs Annie to grab supplies and they both leave together, meaning she survives these events and the finale is completely different. This is what happened on the tapes, but there’s a few gaps to fill in.

Firstly, Knowby just left despite being so adamant in saving his wife. Second, Knowby never sent the people he summoned back, they simply left the cabin with supplies and didn’t return. Henry the Red has no way of going back to 1300A.D. nor can Kelly and Pablo return to 2015, where are they even going? If this is the lore of the game, why is Scotty, Cheryl and Ed still alive as survivors?

Whilst I can’t confirm anything outright, I can certainly make educated guesses on what is going on with the story, especially because of a key detail I left out. In gameplay, Raymond Knowby actually talks to the survivors and is the one instructing them on what to do. It’s safe to assume that the maps in the game aren’t the actual locations, simply because there’s nobody around, there’s magical barriers around the edges and there’s supplies left everywhere specifically for the survivors. My safest bet is that after leaving in the tapes, Knowby felt so guilty for unleashing the evil that he used something from the book to place the deadites into a pocket dimension, taking the appearance of locations where the deadites predominantly were. After accidentally summoning people who were not the Hero from the Sky, but were instead people who knew Ash, or had fought deadites before, Knowby did it again and summoned as many heroes as he could to aid him. It’s assumed he’s dead since it’s his soul speaking to you in game, so it’s possible he killed himself after he left the cabin behind. The reason there are 4 Ash’s is because he tried to summon the Hero from the Sky multiple times, so he ended up taking him from 4 different time periods. It’s likely the people he summoned who ran off, are the same ones he put in his pocket dimension, and likely sent home after defeating the evil. Despite The Evil Dead and Evil Dead 2 basically happening beat for beat, Knowby managed to summon some characters before they died, hence why Cheryl, Scotty and Ed are here.

The single player missions aren’t canon, due to continuity with the only ones that could be canon, being the Army of Darkness ones, that take place in the past.

This is a very brief summary of the lore, and if you have any questions, feel free to ask them, I love talking about this sorta stuff!

#evil dead #fun facts #evil dead the game

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silverselfshippingchaos · 3 years

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Ash goes to Edenhall to find Yaag during the destruction of Cocoon. Warnings for light swearing, injury and blood, mentions and discussion of death, and an overall glum mood. Also some endgame spoilers for the first FF13 game.

"What the hell..." Ash found herself whispering as she looks down at the sight below her. From her airbike, she could see the full view of Eden. Or, well, what was going to be left of Eden, that is.

Her eyes went wide in horror at all the Pulse beasts, the crushed buildings, the civilians crying for help. This is horrible...

Too much had happened too fast, and she hadn't quite had a chance to process it all. But it finally hit her. Eden was being destroyed. This was likely the end of Cocoon.

She had gotten the report of Cid Raines being dead not too long back, and it still felt surreal. The idea of him once being a Cocoon l'Cie was just as jarring. Him being appointed to Primarch too.

l'Cie or not... He was my friend. And now he's gone.

All she could hope for now was her family and Yaag making it out alright, but one of those seemed a lot more likely than the other. Yaag had left in the Proudclad, hoping to protect Edenhall all by himself. That idiot...

PSICOM soldiers were still pursuing the Pulse l'CIe after their appearance earlier that night, but she was not a PSICOM soldier. She had a different goal. She was going to find Yaag and make sure that she didn't lose anyone else.

“I guess Edenhall is my best bet...” She takes a deep breath and flies towards the heart of the city on her airbike.

~~~~~~

Ash never had much experience with on-field work. Or any of this. She wasn't a soldier, and nor did she want to be, but she did help PSICOM. She helped them defend Cocoon, and even helped with the Purge. Maybe not personally with the weapons, but it was some of her intel that led to the Pulse l'Cie hunts. Who was to say that she wasn’t as bloodstained as the soldiers themselves?

Edenhall, the heart of Cocoon, was off-limits to the public, save for some higher-up officials. She had never gotten a chance to go, but she knew that Yaag had multiple times to meet with the Primarch. Even images of the inside weren't revealed to the people. The Sanctum, in their own words (Cid had given her the intel), saw the people as nothing more than cattle.

She was grateful to the fal'Cie for everything they had provided her. A comfortable home, warm food everyday, an education in multiple fields, everything she considered to be "hers" was all because of them. The education system of Cocoon worked in such a way where anybody could pursue their areas of interest and have it fully paid for, and that only helped cultivate her passion for learning.

It was difficult for her to open her eyes to the truth. Even now, there were some blank holes, but what she had gathered was that the fal'Cie weren't right. Whatever happened to humanity, even if it was their downfall, should be all because of humanity. Not some self-proclaimed god with an ego as large as Cocoon itself.

She had felt this way for many years, but meeting with the Cavalry, learning who they really are, and talking to Yaag when he's not working had only solidified her opinion. Yaag had believed that perhaps the fal'Cie's rule would be best for the present and future prosperity of Cocoon, that maybe the Primarch wasn't entirely horrible. Somebody in his position couldn't afford to have doubts.

After all, he was the officer in charge of orchestrating the Purge, the massacre of all those innocent people in the name of Cocoon's peace and betterment. It was then when his hesitation to oh-so blindly follow the fal'Cie grew.

Ash flew into the building through a large hole in the roof, maybe caused by some kind of winged monster. It's not that she couldn't fight, she just didn't have much experience, so hopefully she could avoid confrontation.

Hopping off of her bike and grabbing her bag of essentials, she runs deeper into the building. It was large, and she couldn't help but feel small. Her footsteps echoed in empty halls, now cluttered with debris and things of the such.

Near the pale walls, however, she spots crystals. She stops, slowly approaching it. "It's... It's dead." And a Cie'th, no less. She shakes her head, stepping away. She had to keep going. She needed to find Yaag. She had already lost a lot, and she wasn't going to lose him too.

When a l'Cie, a human chosen by a fal'Cie, failed to fulfill their Focus before their brand reaches stage 13 and is fully developed, they're done for. They turn into a Cie'th monster and are forced to roam the world while wallowing in their own failure. If they did fulfill their Focus, then they'd slumber eternally as a crystal. Although Ash had heard things of crystalized l'Cie coming back to life hundreds of years later. Regardless, it seemed to be a lose-lose situation.

She thought back to Cid. And the Cavalry. His Cavalry. She had always agreed with their cause, and it would be a lie to say that she hadn't assisted them sometimes. Especially before the Purge. They were all a team back then.

Perhaps not to the point of betraying PSICOM, but she a small part of her couldn't help but wish to see them prevail. What could be better than a free Cocoon? She was sure that Yaag has caught on, but he didn't seem to say much. From what she had gathered, they were old friends. Apparently they went to school together.

Ash always liked seeing Yaag as happy as he was when he was with Cid. Well, happy was a questionable term. Cid always had a way of getting under Yaag's skin, and Ash found it somewhat entertaining. Yaag wasn't the easily flustered type, so Cid's slight teasing was always a blast in her eyes.

Cid was a l'Cie, made one by Barthandelous. Or something. The details were fuzzy. The truth had only come out recently. They all thought he was human. He must have felt terrible and filled with nothing but pure dread. He had both the power and the supplies to make his dream of a free Cocoon reality, but... He couldn't do that when he was just another slave.

"Rest well, my friend." Ash mutters, shaking her head. No use dwelling on what's done.

This is a new beginning. I need to move on.

As Ash ran through seemingly endless grand halls, she saw more and more Cie'th. "There were never this many l'Cie. Only the six... And Raines. But he's done for." She added with a sigh. "So who could all these people be? The only people tasked here were that one PSICOM elite squad..."

She gasps in horror as realization hit her.

"No..."

No, no, no, no, no... Please no...

She looks at her hands and notices how much they're trembling. She tries to steady her breathing. "The only ones with the power to do this are the fal'Cie, but they wouldn't. They wouldn't..." She tried to tell herself. But they would, and she knew that well. She just didn't want to believe it. She'd known that for so long, but this was horrific.

"Yaag... This didn't happen to him, too... Right..?"

She gulps, taking a deep breath. And let's hope that this doesn't happen to me either.

Ash turns around to keep moving, but abruptly stops upon hearing static in her PSICOM issued communication device. I thought communication lines were done for... Thank goodness.

"This is... This is PSICOM Director Rosch.." The voice rasped out, and she gasped. Yaag! He's alive!

"Attention all PSICOM and Guardian Corps units." He took a shaky breath, "Suspend l'Cie operations. I repeat, suspend l'Cie operations. All units should focus their efforts on evacuating the civilian population." He pauses.

Ash's eyes go wide at the order.

"I do not issue this order as an absolute. You are free... to make the choice." He seemed to rush the last part, as if it pained him to even speak. All she heard after that was something falling to the ground. And then more static.

"Director? Yaag? Please, come in!" She called, but nothing came through.

Shit.

~~~~~~

"Stay alive. We'll see you when it's over." Is all the blond l'Cie, (Snow Villiers, if Yaag's memory proved correct) said before leaving.

Yaag clutches his side, and he can feel the blood soaking into the black leather of his clothes. His ears rang, the pain in his head nearly unbearable. It all hurt so much. His left leg was numb. He would move it, perhaps adjust himself into a more comfortable position, but he knew that would be more than a stupid idea and would only cause him more pain.

All he could see was the pale walls of the hall, blurred and unfocused. These halls where he had walked so many times. All in the name of protecting Cocoon.

Yaag thought back to Ash. She would like it here, wouldn't she? Perhaps she wouldn't be too great a fan of Sanctum business, though. He chuckles, a bitter and raspy noise. That was always his department. She had often expressed how the military, let alone the Sanctum was not for her. Funny, considering how things ended.

He would be leaving her behind, but what could he do? He was helpless, bleeding out onto the floor of Edenhall. He drank his last potion in the battle against the l'Cie. Shockingly, they spared his life. But from his current situation, he realized that he was probably going to die anyway.

Yaag thought back to his mother and father. His father was PSICOM, through and through. Just like Yaag. His mother was Guardian Corps, but she had perished in battle when he was a teenager. He remembers the day vividly.

The rivalry between PSICOM and GC was always intense, and he had heard that his parents were no exception. His father had once spoke about how he and his wife absolutely despised each other at first. Clearly that didn't last long.

Yaag thought back to the way his father seemed to light up when speaking about his mother. "You have your mother's eyes..." A rare look for a man known for his serious demeanor. Ash had often talked about how serious and intimidating Yaag could be, too. Perhaps it ran in the family?

How did he even end up here...? He had always wanted to join PSICOM, and not just to follow in the footsteps of his hero, his father. He wanted to protect people. Ever since he was young, he had always feared the fal'Cie. Humanity was ruled by them, and it frightened him. Humans such as himself were so small and pathetic in their hands.

It made him feel less small, telling himself that he's fighting for the people rather than the fal'Cie. He remembers the words he uttered to himself before what he assumed would be his final battle. "This is for humanity. Nothing else."

The main purpose of the PSICOM division of the Sanctum military was to fight threats from Pulse. It was what they specialized in. Yaag knew that he could do all his drills in his sleep, but it turns out that it still wasn't enough.

He didn't want to stop the Pulse l'Cie. Of course, he didn't have a choice. They were a threat from Pulse, after all. So the responsibility of seeing them through to their executions fell onto his shoulders.

He felt strongly about wanting to stop them at first. It was what the people desired, but it seemed that his views had grown over time. He realized that perhaps he was on the wrong path all along. Everything he used to feel so strong about then just felt stupid now.

But all of his doubts, his slight hesitation, none of it stopped him from going through with the Purge orders. None of it stopped him from having all those civilians murdered in cold blood because of him.

A soldier's duty was to follow through with their orders regardless of what their thoughts, and he understood that. A pawn of the Sanctum, a pawn of the fal'Cie. That's all he was. All the fear he had as a boy came flooding back.

He can feel the blood trickling down his forehead. "This is... my punishment, isn't it?" He gasps for air, "Very well,"

After everything he had done, all the blood spilt under his orders, this is what he deserved. He had lived fighting for Cocoon, and would die having fought for it until the bitter end, even if it was all a lie. He knew since the very beginning that it was all fake. But he had fought for it regardless. All he did was for the people.

Or so he told himself.

He smiles. "I accept it..."

And with that, Yaag lost track of time, dizzy vision turning to black.

~~~~~

Every single one of the hallways, all once illuminated by Phoenix through large, glass ceilings, seemed to lead to one door. It was so quiet. It felt easy to ignore the absolute apocalypse happening just outside, all within the city Cocoon proudly called its finest. She looked up at the door, and then back down again. If not here, then...

By her foot is another Cie'th, but this one still seems to be alive. Barely, with it's body half crushed by a pillar, but it was reaching to her. She crouches down, gently touching the cold crystal of its body, "... You're hurting, aren't you?"

She takes a closer look at the beast, and within all the crystal was the face of a soldier, twisted and contorted with pain. She knew quite the handful of PSICOM soldiers since she was always hoping to make new friends, and found this face to be quite familiar. No...

Her heart ached, so she figured that maybe her best bet was to put it out of its misery. If she were to help it, there was nothing it could do to become human again.

All of the Cie'th bodies she had seen throughout Edenhall weren't branded. They were made Cie'th by the fal'Cie by not giving them a Focus, yet still making them l'Cie. That's cruel and disgusting. It was said that Cie'th didn't think nor feel, but she didn't think that was the case. This one seemed sad and alone.

She reaches for her blade. "I'm so sorry."

~~~~~~

Putting her blade away, she gently pushes open the doors. Small chunks of white had been floating through the air ever since the portals from Pulse had opened, but the effect seemed to be heightened as she traveled deeper within the building.

As she pushes the double-doors open, she's met with a cloud of black smoke. She coughs, but pushes through regardless. All of the rooms she had been to so far had been huge, but this one was much bigger than the rest. Intricate patterns ran across the floor, which seemed to be a bridge above the ground floor, and in the center was the ruins of a huge machine.

It was the Proudclad, Yaag's personal airship and normally his weapon of choice aside from his trusty sword. Destroyed, it was barely recognizable. The black smoke was coming from it.

Ash's eyes drift over to a body laying face-down next to it. She could recognize that black uniform from a mile away.

Before she had a chance to register her own thoughts, she was sprinting towards him. She crouches down, gently turning him around so she could see his face.

"Yaag!"

He was unconscious, his face covered in his own blood. His uniform was in tatters, pristine and dark fabric covered in dirt and grime and blood and god-knows-what.

For a moment, Ash feared that she was too late, but he was still breathing. Barely. His side was drenched in his own blood, and Ash stared at her now-red hand in horror.

"Oh my..." She was already on-edge, but seeing him like this broke her heart. What if she hadn't have found him? Then what?

Ash digs through her bag, "I know I have Phoenix Down somewhere..." She rummages through the inner pockets and triumphantly pulls out a tuft of Phoenix Down. First-aid wasn't her expertise, but hopefully she could wing it.

(Get it? Wing it?)

Perhaps Ash would have laughed if she wasn't freaking out. She holds the glowing feathers to his body, and was relieved to see that they had worked, fading into thin air. Legend had it that the feathers of a phoenix allowed a lost fall to be returned to its body, and she had thanked her past self for buying some extra from her local terminal.

In her arms, Yaag stirred. Ash let out a sigh of relief and gently brushed his bangs out of his face. She pulled out a spare cloth and began dabbing at the wound on his forehead, wiping away all the blood.

Yaag groans, silvery eyes fluttering open. "Ash?" His own voice sounded foreign to him, and all he remembered was being ready to die after a hard-fought battle against the l'Cie and even his own soldiers, now turned Cie'th.

"Yeah. You're not getting rid of me that easily." She whispers, giving him a gentle smile. He tries to push himself up into a sitting position, but he found himself clutching his side and unable to move his left leg.

"Damnit."

Ash helps him up, propping him up against the remains of his own ship.

"My... My apologies... You shouldn't have to see me like this.." He says through gritted teeth, but Ash places a finger to his lip. "Nope. None of that. I'm not taking any of it. I'm here to take care of you and get you to safety."

"You... You always have been there to save me. Thank you." Yaag whispers. It's all he can manage, and Ash leans forward, giving him a small kiss on the scar on his forehead. That had always been her favorite spot to kiss him, and even though he was barely alive, he still found his heart fluttering.

That's right. She had been there for him when he had gotten shot in Palumpolum as well. It seemed like ages ago, but it truly wasn't that long ago. So much had happened so fast.

"I'm just doing my job. Don't try to force yourself to talk, okay? You're really beat up right now." Her hands go to take off his coat, but she stops, "May I?"

Yaag nods, and she starts by unlatching all the straps that ran across his chest before undoing the buttons on the coat below, slipping it off his shoulders. She was careful to not accidentally hurt him. That was the last thing she needed right now.

His bare chest is no new sight to her. In fact, it's one of Ash's favorite sights. Firm muscle carved by endless battle experience, long-healed battle scars, the wounds from the gunshots in Palumpolum. But even so, Ash gulps at the sight of the wound on his side and the bruises running across his body. “They really did a number on you, huh?” And Yaag couldn’t help but agree.

Ash never was fond of the sight of injury, and that was made even more clear by how much her hands shook as she tended to his injuries. . Yaag shakes his head (or at least, tries to), "You don't need to. Just allow me." He tries reaching for the cloth, but his hands tremble and it pains him to even move. Pathetic...

"You are in no state to take care of yourself right now. I'll be fine. Just, uh, focus on staying awake for me, okay?" Ash pulls out a few more supplies from her bag. Not only did she try to stay prepared for any possible situation, but she had become close friends with many of Yaag's soldiers, and she knew just how dangerous their jobs could get, so she tried to carry extra healing supplies.

She starts tending to his wounds as best she can. She's not great, not by a long shot, and her constantly squirming at the sight and lack of experience only made it more difficult, but she tied a knot in the bandages she wrapped around him and buttoned his coat back up.

Yaag's vision shakes, but he tries to keep his breathing steady. Ash pulls out a flask and pops it open, holding it to Yaag's mouth. "Drink it. It's a spare potion."

Yaag nods and gulps the liquid down. He can already feel himself becoming more awake at the sweet taste. He feels guilty that she has to see him in such a pathetic state, but can't help but feel grateful nonetheless. She had saved him. Again. She truly is my everything, isn't she?

"Do you think you can walk?" She asks, and Yaag takes a look at his good leg. "I think I can manage."

"Alright. I'll be right back, okay? Gonna go grab my bike. It was a long walk here." Ash gives him a smile, and he tries to smile back for her as best he can. She runs out of the room, and comes back only a minute or two later. She's panting, but hops off of her airbike and back next to him.

Yaag attempts to push himself up from the ground, but he pathetically crumbles back down like a sack of rocks. He mentally curses himself. He couldn't afford to be this weak.

Ash wraps an arm around his shoulders, and he's thankful for the support. He's a good head taller than her, so the position was a bit awkward, but he managed to pull himself back to his feet thanks to her help.

"We're almost there, Yaag..." She says, helping him limp over to the bike. Helping him onto the seat, Ash then sits down. "You doing alright?" She asks.

The numbing of the potion had begun to wear off, and Yaag found himself unbearably tired. But he needed to stay awake. He was pretty sure his leg was broken, and clearly his left arm was not in its best state either. His head hurt. Ah, probably a concussion, He softly groans, resting his head on Ash's shoulder.

"Will be... alright. But what of my... my soldiers?"

"Really is always about work with you, huh?" She chuckles, "They're working on relocating the populace to Gran Pulse, just like you ordered."

Yaag nods.

"But you can worry about all that later. Just stay awake. Some of your - No, our - people set up a medical camp nearby." She puts her hands onto the handles of the bike and begins driving, her pace slow.

Ash can feel Yaag's gentle breathing on her neck, and she's glad. She's so glad. "I love you a lot, you know."

"... love you too." He mutters, "Was... prepared to die... Thank you."

Ash smiles. "I don't want to lose you. Ever." She stops, just feeling the weight of his body against her, his gentle breathing tickling her neck, "Save your strength though."

"Mhm..."

Ash kept driving, but she always made her to check on him every once in a while.

"...'alk to me." Yaag whispers.

"What was that, my dear? Did you say something?"

"Talk to me. I want to... hear your voice... Need to stay awake."

"Oh, of course!"

~~~~~~

Ash finishes her story about some of her school days just as they arrive at the camp. She opted for a fun-filled story instead of their current events, not wanting to overwhelm him. He chuckles. I could listen to her all day...

"Alright. We're here." Ash parks her airbike, stepping back onto the ground before reaching for Yaag, helping him down as well. He held her as support, trying to keep his weight on his good leg.

Ash clears her throat, her tone firming as she addresses the PSICOM team, "Hey, everybody." She puts the hand she wasn't using to support Yaag up, "It's Ash. I've got Director Rosch with me, and he's not looking good. Do your thing."

Yaag gives the medics a firm nod as they carry him away into a tent, and Ash watches him leave before taking a deep breath. Welp, no time to rest.

"Hey, Ash." Says one of the soldiers standing guard around the area. Monster attacks would be more frequent now that they didn't have the luxury of being protected by the fal'Cie.

"Heya!" She grins at him, grabbing one of the spare guns they kept around, "I'm going to go help some of the people near the relocation area now. Look after the Director."

"Stay safe, Ash. The Director'll rip me apart of anything happened to ya." The soldier laughed, "And he's already intimidating enough as is."

Ash chuckles, thinking back to when she first met Yaag. It was hard to even stand in his presence without feeling absolutely terrified. They’d come a long way since then.

"No kidding." After giving the soldier a friendly high-five, she turns around. "See you!"

Ash leaves to return to her trusty bike. "I'm no soldier, but it's my responsibility to help the people." She says to herself as she sits down, grabbing her keys.

Regardless of what happened, she knew that she had to do the right thing.

#yaag passes away at the end of the game but!! not in this reality #however in the reality in which he does #ash is the one who finds the recordings he left behind that are mentioned in the novels and brings them to ryg's attention #but not here!!! i quite like how this one came out hehe! was a lot of fun :) i really like these two #yaag my beloved!! i'll do something fluffy for them sometime i swear #thank you so much for reading!!! :D!#me x the boys

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lunassyorybook · 3 years

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The Lost Prince Of The North | I

Act I - The Woods Are Not For Everyone

TW: violence, swearing

WC: 5.4k+

A/N: Here we go! I hope y’all enjoy. Posting this earlier than planned cause I got excited and wanted it to be out there.

Dragons. Dragons are one of the most powerful creatures in the world. Guardians filled with unrelenting power that no mortal on earth knew the limits to. Powers meant to protect their greatest treasure. No creature on earth could ever match the power that a dragon held. One dragon could wipe entire kingdoms off the face of the earth and nothing would be left except for ash.

Once a long time ago, before man truly had kept records and history was kept by the ones who held it dear, man and dragon used to be allied. Man knew that they could not overpower a dragon so they befriended them. Man and dragons fought together side by side. Some men were lucky enough to even have ridden high above the clouds on the back of a dragon.

But over time men grew greedy of the power that dragons held and wanted it for themselves.

Due to their power and treasure they were hunted. Hunted by those who wanted to gain their power. Gain the treasure that the dragon would protect with their last dying breath. Power that no human could fully comprehend. The Dragons tried to fight back but soon they were overpowered. Dragons were soon pushed to the line of extinction. The Dragons had to go into hiding. For the safety of their kind.

When the dragons went into hiding they split into four clans. The earth dragons went to the west, the air dragons to the south, the fire dragons to the east, and the ice dragons to the North. The four clans worked to create a peace treaty with the mortals to make sure that their kind could live in peace. No dragon would attack a mortal unprovoked and mortals could not enter dragon territory.

The peace was kept for many years. The dragons prospered and so did the mortals. It wasn’t until a king had let his greed consume him. He moved into the Northern Dragon’s territory with an army behind him. The army is armed with powerful enough magic to take down any dragon, no matter how strong.

The army stormed the Northern dragon’s territory. There was a great battle between dragons and mortals. The battle left many bodies behind, mortal and dragon. The dragons had finally managed to fight off the mortal king’s army, but not without great cost. The king of the Northern dragon clan died making sure that the rest of the clan made it out alive. He died protecting his greatest treasure, his clan and his heir. The Ice Dragon’s son was hidden by the Northern Clan as to not be found by the mortal king.

After the battle, the ice dragons were never to be seen. They are thought to be wiped out with nothing left of what they used to be. The Mortal King searched for years to try and find the dragon heir but came to no avail. He searched and searched until the day of his death, obsessed with trying to find the Northern Clan’s heir.

As the Mortal King’s son took the throne the idea of dragons were erased from the kingdom. Any mention of them would get you arrested. The kingdom was never allowed to learn of them because the new king feared that they would hunt the dragons down for their power and would let greed consume them like it had done to his father.

The heir was gone and no one knew of where he had gone. Lost to the crimes of greed. Dragons from the other clans searched for the Dragon Heir but they were at a loss as well. No dragon or mortal could find the heir. While the Northern Clan had died, their greatest treasure would never truly be taken.

Seonghwa knew he was going to get his ass kicked for this but right now he didn’t care. All he wanted was to be outside the wall of the castle for once, on his own, with no bodyguard around. It didn’t matter to him that he was a prince, he wanted any freedom he could get, which at this point in time was none.

Seonghwa had taken it upon himself to sneak out of his lessons to jump the castle walls and go into the woods that bordered the castle. He just wanted to go for a small walk outside the castle walls, nothing too harsh, no matter what Yeosang had told him. He just wanted to escape the dreary cobblestone walls that surrounded his home.

Seonghwa was the prince of a kingdom known as Aurora. Aurora was a kingdom that had faced its fair share of miseries. Some would go as far as to say that the kingdom was cursed with how much misfortune that it endured. People wondered what the kingdom had done to bring about such misfortune upon them.

As Seonghwa's feet hit the ground. He smirked looking back at the castle. For as much as his father made it seem like it was nearly impossible for Seonghwa to sneak out of the castle undetected, Seonghwa had managed to get out of the castle in under an hour. He couldn't help but feel a little smug about the fact.

Seonghwa looked into the deep woods. It was something that he had never truly seen before. The woods seemed to go on endlessly. Deep tall trees for as far as the eye can see and Seonghwa wanted to go deeper. The woods whispered to him to move forward and enter what almost felt like a new realm. One foot after the other as Seonghwa ventured into the deep woods.

Seonghwa wandered aimlessly around the woods. It was beautiful. Different types of trees, flowers he had only seen in books, the sounds of different animals that he could only imagine seeing in the castle. Seonghwa couldn’t help himself. He would pull out his journal that he kept with him and write down everything that he found interesting. From the way that the trees grew so tall that it seemed to almost block the sunshine to a small patch of flowers that had grown at the root of a tree.

Seonghwa smiled at the squirrels moving along the trees above him. The birds that chirped and flew on the wind. Even the wind itself felt like it was its own being entirely. Floating and moving through the forest with Seonghwa like a friend guiding him through his new surroundings.

While Seonghwa was at peace in the first he couldn't help but feel a little unsettled. People from the kingdom would always talk about these woods like a bad thing. Said it's filled with bad magic, that faes had cursed it so any mortal that went inside would be cursed to wander the forest forever, losing themselves to their own madness.

Seonghwa didn't believe most of the rumors that float around the kingdom, mostly cause he believes that the people make them up to keep children from venturing too far away from their homes and that there is no fae colony anywhere near Aurora, but as Seonghwa moved deeper into the woods he couldn't help but feel like something else was at play here.

The woods almost felt too alive. There was something there that Seonghwa couldn't quite place his finger on and that made him a little nervous. A watchful presence that Seonghwa couldn’t tell the intentions of.

As he ventured deeper he could feel the once summer air was turning colder with each step he took deeper into the dark woods. Seonghwa felt himself unconsciously pulling his jacket closer to him. The summer heat was long gone in exchange for a harsh cold air that started whipping through the trees. Seonghwa couldn’t believe what was happening. He had left the castle in the summer and now was starting to see small snow flurries dance around in the air.

Seonghwa had to stop. He looked around the forest, finally noticing the snow that was on the forest floor. Seonghwa kneeled down and held the snow in his hands, letting it melt against his skin. Seonghwa had never seen anything like it before. He soon realizes that the once green forest was filled with white snow for as far as the eye can see.

“What kind of magic could do this?” Seonghwa thought to himself.

Magic was rare in Aurora. The only magic Seonghwa had ever seen in Aurora was healers coming to help when sickness had plagued the castle. He had seen the small magic tricks that Wooyoung, Yeosang’s friend, would do when the three of them were lounging about the castle. While Seonghwa knew magic was real, he had never seen it on such a scale.

He felt as if he was intruding on something, as if he had walked into the home of a stranger that hadn’t invited him in. Seonghwa was suddenly becoming very aware of his surroundings.

The quietness of the forest couldn’t stand to be ignored any longer. The once peaceful sound of the birds were gone and any creatures that he saw were nowhere in sight, almost afraid themselves to go near this part of the forest. Seonghwa felt a chill run down his spine at the sound of a growl.

Seonghwa looked around for something that would make a sound like that but he couldn’t see anything. The small snow flurries were starting to pick up around him, making it hard for Seonghwa to see. The once friendly presence of the wind was quickly replaced with an angry beast. Snow whipped around him and the cold started to nip at his hands and face.

Everything in his head was yelling at him to run but he couldn’t get his body to move. The next thing he knew he was hit by something from behind, pinning Seonghwa to the ground. The prince did his best to turn and face the creature that had attacked him.

Seonghwa couldn’t believe his eyes. He looked up at the large creature, it’s large foot pinning him to the snowy forest floor. Seonghwa tried to pull his head away from the creature's long claws. He could feel the unusually cold breath of the creature hitting him in the face. As Seonghwa met the icy blue eyes of the creature he felt his heart stop.

Dragon.

The dragon had beautiful white scales that almost looked like a pale blue under the light. The dragon was smaller than Seonghwa would imagine but that didn’t take away from the strength that the dragon had. It had horns at the top of it’s head that almost looked to be icicles on its head. The long tail of the dragon moved behind the dragon, ready to attack if necessary. Seonghwa was in shock.

Dragons didn’t exist. Not anymore. They had been long wiped out and even if some did survive it’s not like they would spend their time roaming the woods near a kingdom like Aurora. There were too many humans around for a dragon to go unnoticed for this long.

“What are you doing here?” The dragon growled. Seonghwa heard him but didn’t see the dragon’s mouth move.

“How are you talking to me?” Seonghwa asks, the dragon growls at Seonghwa’s question.

“I wouldn’t ask stupid questions when you’re the one pinned to the ground.” The dragon says. “What are you doing here?”

“I was wandering around the forest, I didn’t know this was here. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“And you expect me to believe you? Mortals have killed my kind for centuries. Why are you any different?”

“I didn’t even know you were here. I wanted to get out of the castle for a day.” Seonghwa was panicking by this point. The one time he decided to rebel against his parents' rules he got cornered by a dragon. Really, he shouldn't have expected anything less than being on the verge of being murdered.

“You should have just stayed there. Such a little act of rebellion can lead you down a path of misfortune.” The Dragon shifted his weight, pushing Seonghwa harder into the ground, causing Seonghwa to wince at the amount of weight crushing his chest. He swore he could feel his ribs start to crack under the weight.

“Please. I’ll never come back, just let me go!” Seonghwa was practically begging the Dragon at this point. Seonghwa couldn’t fight against him. He was pinned to the ground with a dragon hovering over him waiting for Seonghwa to make a wrong move as an excuse to kill him.

The Dragon glared at him, leaning into Seonghwa’s face. Seonghwa looked the dragon in the eyes, waiting for the dragon to just get it over with and kill him.

“Never come back to this place. If I see you here again I will rip you to shreds.”

The next thing Seonghwa knew, the heavy weight crushing his chest was suddenly lifted and the dragon was gone. He finally could breathe properly. Seonghwa got up onto shaky legs. Seonghwa looked around the snowy woods, but the dragon was nowhere in sight. Seonghwa couldn’t help but start laughing at how ridiculous what just happened was. He had managed to find a dragon. The next thing Seonghwa knew he was back on the snowy floor and his vision fading away.

After Seonghwa woke up after the shock of finding a dragon, he quickly made his way out of the woods and back to the castle before the castle staff realized he was missing. He climbed back over the castle wall and made his way through a secret passageway that only he and Yeosang knew about. Seonghwa snuck back into the castle and back into his chambers. He closed the door and let out a sigh of relief at not being caught.

“Where have you been?” Yeosang spoke from behind him.

Seonghwa jumped and leaned up against the door. “What the hell are you doing here!” Seonghwa shouted.

Yeosang was Seonghwa’s younger brother. He was a lot quieter and more reserved than Seonghwa, but what he lacked in sociability he made up for in smarts. He was quick on his feet when it came to problem solving and he was a master at strategy. Yeosang also had a tendency to speak his mind without regard for others but he cared he just had a hard time showing it.

“Answer my question first, where were you?” Yeosang could read him like an open book.

“I was out.” Seonghwa replied, taking his bag from off his shoulder and putting it by his desk.

“Don’t give me bullshit, Seonghwa. Where did you go?” The younger man demanded.

“I went out in the forest for a walk, are you happy?”

“You went out for a walk for a whole day?” Yeosnag questioned.

“I got lost.” He says lying through his teeth at this point.

“You really are a terrible liar, you know that right?”

Seonghwa groaned and went over to his bed. He threw himself on the comforter and closed his eyes, ignoring Yeosang glaring at him.

“You have no idea how much I had to cover for you today.” Yeosang complained.

“This is why you’re my best friend.” Seonghwa says.

“Go to hell.”

“Someone is snappy today. What’s wrong, Wooyoung didn’t pay enough attention to you today.” Seonghwa fired back.

Yeosang glared even harder at Seonghwa, letting Seonghwa know he should probably drop the topic of the witch boy that had stolen Yeosang’s affections no matter how much Yeosang denied it.

“What did you even do in the woods for that long? I mean what is there to do, all there are endless trees.” Yeosang questioned.

Seonghwa was reminded of the weight of the dragon on his chest. “Nothing much, guess I just got lost in my head.”

“You do realize how dumb that was. You could have at least told me or Mingi. But no you just disappear out of thin air being stupid.” Yeosang scolded.

“I just wanted to be on my own for a little while. I don’t need a babysitter.” Seonghwa said.

“Have you met yourself? You get into trouble wherever you go without meaning to. Knowing you probably pissed off the Fae in that forest.”

Seonghwa remembers the ice blue eyes of the dragon’s eyes. I would take a Fae over that dragon anyday.

“It’s late. Get some rest. We have to be up early in the morning for that meeting with mother and father.” Yeosang said.

Seonghwa groaned at the thought of meeting with his parents. He knew that it was going to be about preparing him for his coronation next month. Seonghwa was excited about being king but his parents were confining, not letting him have a life outside of the castle. Seonghwa wanted the freedom that he had back.

“Sounds great, what do you think father is going to talk about this time, how I need to work harder or need to find a wife.” Seonghwa jokes.

Yeosang laughed. “Good luck for that one.”

Yeosang got up and went to the door of Seonghwa’s room.

Seonghwa chuckled. “Night Yeosang.”

“Night Seonghwa.”

Yeosang smiled at him and left Seonghwa’s room for his own.

Seonghwa laid in his bed looking up at the ceiling of his room. Thoughts of the dragon clouding his thoughts. What was the dragon doing there? Where did he come from? Why was he alone? Dragons lived in packs and needed other dragons around them. That much Seonghwa knew. So many questions that Seonghwa couldn’t answer. He finally closed his eyes and let sleep consume his thoughts.

Seonghwa was an idiot and he knew it. Here he was. Standing in front of the same forest that he was nearly killed by a dragon almost a week ago.

Why was he doing this, he couldn’t give you an answer. Seonghwa couldn’t explain it. He just felt pulled back to the woods from the second he left. Seonghwa had to see the dragon again, even if it killed him. Hopefully it doesn’t get to that. Seonghwa took a deep breath, clutching his bag in his hands where his knuckles were almost white, with which he took his first step forward back into the woods.

Seonghwa had to know what a dragon was doing so close to Aurora. Something wasn’t right about this. The first dragon seen in centuries hiding in the forest outside of the kingdom could only mean that bad things were in store for Aurora and Seonghwa couldn’t let that happen.

When Seonghwa was younger his mother used to tell him stories of the kings and queens who worked alongside dragons before they disappeared. That the dragons used to be allies to those that they respected. Despite his father always telling him that dragons were nothing but old folk tales, something deep inside Seonghwa’s heart knew that there were dragons still out there.

He would spend his days as a child dreaming about one day finding a dragon. How he would fly above the clouds and touch the stars. His father put a swift end to any of these fanasies.

“Dragons are evil.” His father would say. “They only live for themselves and the greed that they thrive on. They are nothing but a curse sent by the Gods themselves.”

Seonghwa could never understand why his father hated dragons so much.

Maybe that’s why he was so determined to find the dragon again. Some childish part of him tugged at his brain to go and befriend the same beast that had nearly killed him a week ago. Aurora had been on the bad side of the gods for so long, maybe a dragon was what it needed.

If Seonghwa could convince them that the people of Aurora were just as important as Seonghwa saw them, then maybe the dragon could help them. Prove to his father that dragons were not some evil beasts sent by the gods to curse humans.

And maybe some selfish part of his brain hoped that maybe he could ride the dragon just like in the stories, but that wasn’t at the top of his list.

He made his journey to the deepest parts of the woods, trying his best to remember the path he took but his memory felt like it was failing him. Seonghwa kept trying to follow the cold air that he could feel through the trees. Seonghwa felt as if he was wandering aimlessly with no final destination.

Seonghwa felt as if he was going in circles. He had been walking for hours and had found no trace of the white dragon. Seonghwa sat on the dirt. He was exhausted after walking for hours to only get nowhere.

Seonghwa was frustrated, but he didn't know what to be frustrated with. He wanted to be mad at himself for not being able to find the dragon, but Seonghwa knew that no matter how much he searched, the dragon would only be the one to decide if he would appear.

Just as Seonghwa was starting to fall into his doubt, a loud screech could be heard from afar. A loud boom came from out of nowhere. The sound shook the ground that Seonghwa sat on. Seonghwa quickly got to his feet, he turned to go back to the castle but he stopped. Seonghwa looked back to where the sound came from.

Seonghwa could hear all forms of logic yelling at him to go back to the castle but there was another voice yelling against his logic. Seonghwa sighed knowing which voice he was listening to. Yeosang was going to kill him. Seonghwa turned back around and started to head to the sound. Seonghwa followed the faint sight of smoke.

What could have done this? Seonghwa asked himself as he could see the smoke getting darker which signaled he was getting close.

Soon Seonghwa arrived at the source of the sound. Seonghwa gasped at seeing the large crater in the ground.

The crater was huge. Seonghwa was wracking his brain trying to come up with an idea of what could have caused such a thing to happen. Seonghwa tried to see through the thick smoke to see if the thing that made the crater was still there.

The smoke started to clear and Seonghwa could see the figure of something lying in the middle of the crater. Seonghwa leaned to get a better look at the figure, only to slip when the ground gave out from under Seonghwa’s foot.

Seonghwa screamed as he tumbled to the bottom of the crater. He groaned as he laid on the ground. He sat up, clutching his side. The smoke had cleared out, finally giving Seonghwa a clear view of everything around him. He looked up to see how far he had fallen when his attention was taken by the figure next to him. Seonghwa jumped back slightly at the sight of the man asleep next him.

The man looked to be Seonghwa’s age, maybe a little younger. He had snow white hair and skin that was pale. His features were soft but sharp. He was wearing all white clothes, Seonghwa thought he looked like an angel. Seonghwa realized that the man’s arm had been injured, blood staining the ground below him.

Seonghwa moved over to where he was sleeping. Seonghwa looked over his arm and could see a large gash that was on his arm. Seonghwa quickly opened his bag, trying to find something to clean the wound. Seonghwa found a small cloth in his bag and tried to place it on the boy’s arm.

As soon as the cloth came into contact with the boy’s skin, the boy’s eyes shot open and a hiss left his lips. Sharp blue eyes stared back at Seonghwa with a glare.

“I’m sorry.” Seonghwa apologized. “I need to try and stop the bleeding.”

“Leave me alone.” The boy growled.

“You’re hurt. I can’t just leave you.” Seonghwa argued.

“I said lea-” As the boy tried to push Seonghwa off he winced in pain and collapsed onto his side once more.

It was then Seonghwa noticed the large gash on the boy’s torso.

“Gods.” Seonghwa said in shock. “I have to get you back into town, you have to see a healer.”

“No.” the boy begged. “Can’t trust humans.” The boy said through gritted teeth, trying his absolute hardest to not succumb to the pain of his injuries.

The boy clutched his side trying to stop the bleeding on his own. Seonghwa tried to help but the boy only growled at him.

“You’ll die if you don’t get any help.” Seonghwa protested.

“I can handle it on my own.” The boy’s voice became lighter, as if it was hard just speaking.

“Even the strongest warrior needs help in a situation like this. You need to see a healer.” Seonghwa argued, his tone harsher than he wanted but the boy’s stubbornness was pointless at this point.

“They’ll kill me!” The boy shouted suddenly.

wHe sat upright and pushed Seonghwa away with what little strength he had left. It was as if his strength came back for one final push to save himself. Just as quickly it came, the strength faded from his body.

“They’ll kill me.” The boy mumbled before collapsing onto the ground once again, this time his eyes falling shut.

Seonghwa’s eyes widened. He scrambled over to the boy.

“Please don’t be dead.” He begged.

The boy’s breaths came out heavy and gruff but there. That meant that there was a chance.

Seonghwa acted quickly, doing his best to remember what Wooyoung had taught him. Seonghwa pulled the small knife that he carried with him at all times and cut the fabric of his shirt into a long strip of cloth.

He carefully looked over the nasty gash on the boy’s torso and did his best to tie the piece of fabric around the wound to halt the bleeding. It was only as Seonghwa tied the cloth around the boy that he noticed the significant pool of blood that had formed on the ground below where the boy was laying.

The boy groaned with his body being moved around. His face warped in a look of pain and discomfort.

“I’m sorry.” Seonghwa said to him not even sure if the boy could even hear him.

Once Seonghwa had done his best to treat the wounds, Seonghwa hoisted the boy on top of his shoulders to make it easier to carry him. The boy let out a weak cry of pain and Seonghwa winced as if it was him who was hurt.

“I promise I’ll be as fast as I can.” Seonghwa said.

He just hoped that he would be fast enough to save the boy before he succumbed to his wounds.

Seonghwa felt as if his lungs were on fire. He hadn’t stopped running since he managed to climb out of the crater. Seonghwa was honestly still in shock of how he managed to pull that off.

The sun in the sky started to fall into twilight as Seonghwa reached the gates of the castle. He didn’t care who saw at this point. All he knew was that he needed to get the boy to Wooyoung. Seonghwa could feel the boy’s pained breaths on the back of his neck which was the only thing giving him the slightest bit of hope that the boy would survive.

He heard a guard shout his name, obviously alarmed that the crown prince had just run through castle gates when he was already meant to be inside of them. Seonghwa made his way through the servants quarters and through the long hallways of the castle until he reached Wooyoung’s room.

Seonghwa pounded on the door the best he could. “Wooyoung! Wooyoung!” The prince shouted.

Seonghwa could hear muttering through the door. Finally the door opened.

“What the hell are you on abo - Gods!” Wooyoung exclaimed, now seeing the bloodied boy on Seonghwa’s shoulders.

“You have to help him, Wooyoung, please.” Seonghwa begged.

“What happened?” Wooyoung asked in protest.

“It doesn’t matter!” Seonghwa shouted. “He’s dying, please.”

Wooyoung shook his head. “Lay him down on the bed.”

Seonghwa could almost sob with relief.

Seonghwa moved quickly as Wooyoung shut the door behind the two. Seonghwa laid the boy down on the bed. The boy moved and murmured something under his breath but it was too quiet for Seonghwa to understand.

Wooyoung looked over at the boy carefully and examined his wounds. The healer grimaced. “He’s lucky to even be alive at this point.”

“Can you help him?” Seonghwa asked hopefully.

“I can but it’s going to take a while for him to even be back on his feet.” Wooyoung explained. “He better be worth it, whoever he is.” the healer muttered.

Wooyoung placed his hands over the boy’s body and closed his eyes in concentration. Seonghwa could feel the magic flowing in the air as Wooyoung controlled it. Wooyoung focused his energy down into the boy. The healer’s eyebrows furrowed as he used more strength.

Seonghwa watched with careful eyes as the boy’s wounds closed as if they had never been there in the first place. The boy moved in his sleep, grunting and murmuring things that Seonghwa couldn’t understand.

After what felt like hours, Wooyoung let his arms fall and the magic that was once there before slowly trickled out of the room. Wooyoung stumbled slightly and Seonghwa was there to catch the healer before he fell.

“Whoever he is, he’s a stubborn bastard I’ll tell you that.” Wooyoung said, out of breath from over using his magic.

Seonghwa helped Wooyoung over to a chair that was positioned in the corner of the room.

“I don’t doubt it.” Seonghwa replied. Judging by the way he acted in the woods there’s no doubt that he wouldn’t accept help from anyone.

“It was almost as if he was fighting my magic.” Wooyoung added.

Seonghwa looked at the healer in confusion. “Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know but he clearly didn’t like the fact that I was healing him. It was almost as if his mind and body were arguing on if to fight it or not. Eventually his body beat out his mind. Just by that fact alone, this is someone who has not had an easy life.”

There was a silence that fell over the two before Wooyoung asked the question that Seonghwa had been waiting for.

“Who is he, Seonghwa?”

Seonghwa could only answer with the truth. “I don’t know.”

The prince’s eyes focused on the sleeping boy. The prince studied the features that he didn’t have time to notice before.

The boy was small and slim in frame compared to most men but it was clear to Seonghwa in the forest that he had strength to match his own. His sharp features were almost made sharper by the paleness of his skin. Seonghwa wasn’t sure if that was due to the boy’s wounds or if his skin looked like freshly fallen snow all of the time. Then Seonghwa’s attention fell to the boy’s white hair. It was messy but still looked like it came from the sky itself.

“I bet he’s a vampire.” Wooyoung spoke up.

Seonghwa snorted. “His eyes are blue, not red.”

“Vampires can change their eye color.” Wooyoung argued.

“If he was a vampire I would be dead.” Seonghwa said.

Wooyoung shrugged. “Where did you find him anyway?”

“The woods. He was at the bottom of a crater.” Seonghwa answered.

“A crater? In the middle of the woods. You think that he caused a crater in the woods?” Wooyoung questioned, gesturing to the boy sleeping in the bed.

“No.” Seonghwa started, maybe the boy did cause the crater. First he sees a dragon and now boys are falling out of the sky and making craters in the middle of the woods. At this point Seonghwa might believe anything. “Maybe.”

Wooyoung let out a cackle. “Yeah, and Yeosang can fly.”

Seonghwa wanted to argue with Wooyoung but the events of the day were finally starting to weigh down on Seonghwa.

Wooyoung eyes soften. “Get some rest, Seonghwa. You clearly need it.”

“I don’t want to leave him”

Wooyoung wanted to argue with the prince but if there was one thing that he had learned working in the castle it was when one of the princes had their mind set on something it was best to let them see it through.

Wooyoung went over to one of the small cabinets in the room and pulled out a blanket. He walked back over to where Seonghwa was sitting and tossed him the blanket.

“No complaining about your back hurting in the morning.” Wooyoung said, going to leave the room.

“Don’t tell Yeosang.” Seonghwa blurted out.

“I won’t.” Wooyoung says.

Seonghwa narrowed his eyes.

“I’m telling him.” Wooyoung said quickly before shutting the door behind him.

Seonghwa opened his mouth to stop the whaler but knew it was already too late by the time the door shut behind him.

The Prince let out a yawn and curled himself under the blanket. Seonghwa could worry about what Yeosang would say in the morning. He stared at the sleeping face of the boy.

“Where did you come from?” Seonghwa thought before his eyes lulled shut and sleep consumed him.

#atz fanfic #ateez #seongjoong #park seonghwa #kim hongjoong #kang yeosang #jeong yunho #choi jongho #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung #fanfic #kpop fanfic #fantasty #dragons #royal #prince seonghwa

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burnedbyshoto · 4 years

Text

a nurses job

— Bakugou breaks his arms and as a nurse, you have the responsibility to make sure that he is comfortable, even when he needs to use the bathroom.

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pairing: pro hero!bakugou katsuki x nurse fem!reader

warnings: smut, 18+, prohero!bakugou, golden showers/water sports/piss kink, degradation (giving), dirty talk, lusting/pining, handjobs

word count: 5,050

a/n: so, I was going to make this a piss in ur mouth and pussy type of fic, but I kept seeing all those beautiful bakugou piss arts where he’s with a nurse.... so this is inspired and brought upon by all the water sports bakugou x nurse art ive seen for three months.

kinktober day 21 main kink: piss | kinktober masterlist

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You’re not quite sure what persuaded you into wanting to become a nurse as a child.

Maybe it was because your quirk (when you hum at an A flat, everyone within 5 meters experiences accelerated healing properties) was useless for Pro Hero work, so you realized early on that being a Pro Hero was a distant dream. Maybe it was because medical staff were still hailed as everyday heroes despite being in a world with people who could perform extraordinary achievements. It started as a small obsession to prove to the soon to be jobless, dream broken, and graduated failures of the hero course high schools that you had done more than them. That you, unlike them, were recognized as a hero.

You were decent with math and science, so you strove for medical school. But with the horrendous costs of schooling, your then living situation, and your dislike of unneeded and unwanted competitive stress, you deterred toward the nursing pathway. It was a pathway where you really found yourself, or at least, you thought so.

Empathy, emotion, and the need to see people come out of a hospital better than when they entered was something that grew on you quickly and obviously. Your earliest clinical rounds often left you with swollen, tired feet from walking around for restless hours, but with a smile on your face that was irreplicable. With every semester in school, you got better, connected better with your patients. Your feet still ache after long shifts, and sometimes your smile is hollow and broken, and if you look closely, you could see dried tears and puffy eyelids, but you wouldn’t ever regret this decision to become a nurse.

At twenty-five, newly graduated from nursing school, already working full time at the best hospital in Japan, while studying for your degree to eventually become a nurse practitioner. You loved your job quite a lot. They had placed you immediately within their Post-OP, ICU, and recovery wings, and even though you were somewhat new, you were celebrating a year of working in a few weeks, you already had some… more than familiar faces.

“Well, Ground Zero-san, I guess you owe me a drink because unless my eyes are deceiving me, it looks like both your arms are broken, no?” you hum, your grin bright and wide, not even attempting to hide it’s glee as your high profile patient sat seething on the hospital bed. “It’s been, what? Two weeks since you last showed up here? You getting old?”

“Oh, would you shut the fuck up, you shitty ass nurse?!” Bakugou snarled, his arms obviously trying to tense and move against the large casts that envelope him. “The fuck would you expect to happen when facing off with a quirk that’s specifically meant to break people’s arms?!”

“Deku didn’t break any arms,” you point out with a soft laugh, eyes still scanning and reading through his charts to check his medical needs and medicine prescribed by the attending and when he should be taking them. “A bit weird that only half of the Wonder Duo was indescribably injured, no?”

A loud snarl ripped from Bakugou’s throat, and you stifled your own laughter as you raised your eyesight to look him straight in his raging eyes.

“I took that damn nerds hits because he’s broken his arms so many fucking times he’ll be forced to amputate them if he breaks them again!” Bakugou’s eyes were near white in his anger, but the intensity of his emotions was heavily diminished by the fact that his arms were strapped to his chest in thick, round bandages.

“You can admit you care for him,” you chide, ignoring his ‘like hell I do!’ Placing the chart down and walking to his IV drip, you checked to see if anything he was hooked to required any changes or whatnot. “Besides, this is not the first time I’ve seen you in here! It was quite surprising to see Ground Zero on bedrest on my first ever shift here.”

That much was true.

You had been working at Tokyo Hospital for nearly nine months now. Within the nine months, you saw a lot of heroes; that much was true. Your quirk was versatile as a nurse, and you were bright, young, very good at your job, and definitely a beautiful individual. So, when you were assigned to be working most of your days healing heroes because they were the backbone of the country, it didn’t quite catch you by surprise. It was a common assignment you had as a nursing student too.

You just didn’t expect the head nurse of the floor to assign one of your five rooms to be holding none other than Ground Zero, a.k.a Bakugou Katsuki.

Of course, you weren’t an idiot. You had known about the explosion hero since high school! You had sat in front of your TV in high school, attempting to do your homework while watching the rather intensive first-year battles. He had done well in every stage, placing within the top three each time and even winning the game! You had cringed at the awards ceremony but had been horrified at the news of his kidnapping.

But after that, with the rising tensions of the villain world upon the dying world left behind by All Might, you had forgotten him for a moment. As time went on, and finally, a new support system was brought forth, Ground Zero, much like his quirk entailed, exploded onto the scene alongside Deku and a few other young heroes.

So, sure, you expected to maybe one day run into the ash-blond hero, but you didn’t expect it to happen on day one.

All things considered, the two of you got along rather well.

His... strong personality did make you wary of him at first, taking his near verbal barrage until you, very flusteredly he will argue, told him to ‘shut up, you butthole!’

You were horrified at your lack of professionalism, and Bakugou had gone silent as he stared at you in silence.

“Did you just call me a butthole?” he echoed, his face full of emotions you could not read. You felt on the verge of panicking, unsure if he was going to potentially tell on you! The sounds of a barking laughter rang in your ear, and you looked up to see his grinning, much more relaxed form. “Are you some shitty preschooler?!”

Thus began a working relationship of sorts between you and Bakugou.

He was an asshole, and you tried your best to not let him talk you off a cliff. It didn’t take very long for you to find out what made him tick surprisingly enough, and you used that to your advantage. The best way to tease him right now was by reminding him that he had been hospitalized more times than Deku, who apparently had held the record for the number of hospitalizations between him and his friends.

“Are you going to mention that shit first meeting every time we talk?!” Bakugou barked, his eyes narrowed as he turned his head away from you.

“After you admit you care deeply for all your friends!” you chirp back, stepping away from his IV drip, satisfied by what you saw. “Well, you look good for now. I’ll be checking up on you every ten to fifteen minutes since you can’t press the button until we can get those casts off! Did ya need anything before I go check on my other patients?”

“Open the damn window; it’s stuffy in here,” Bakugou grumbled, his face finally facing you again.

“Of course,” you smile cheekily, your eyes squinting with your broad grin. “It’s a nurse's job to make their patients comfortable and happy!”

Standing at the side of the bed, you stretched over Bakugou to grab the edge of the window and slide it open. Through your stance, you were entirely aware of how this looked, how this felt. Your breasts centimeters from Bakugou’s face, your eyes never once breaking from the window to feign your innocence as you finally pull away. Even with scrubs on, you could feel his hot, sharp breathes expelling through your clothes, his ears tinging just the smallest bit red as you smile.

“Anything else?” you asked sweetly, failing to hide your impish grin.

“Put the water cup close by,” he grunted, eyes staring at the liter of water at his side table. Well, he wouldn’t be able to use his arms until just before he was set to be discharged, so moving the water closer was a good idea.

Nodding, you grabbed a nearby cup, filling it three-quarters of a way full before placing it onto the feeding table and dragging it near his mouth, a bendy straw already secured into the cup. You watched as he shot forward, putting the plastic straw into his mouth and beginning to drink the cold water. His eyes were back on yours, deceivingly cold had you already not been an expert on his personality.

With one final soft chuckle, you waved at Bakugou as you headed out, a cheerful smile on your face as he continued to drink his water.

“See ya in a few!”

Well, you guess there was one more important detail about your relationship with Bakugou Katsuki. For the past five months, you have been doing everything in your power to seduce him — to get him to admit that he wanted you too.

You knew the ethics and the morals behind falling for a patient of yours, much less a high profile patient at that. You knew that if your little crush was ever found out, you would most definitely be moved from his room. You were also damningly aware that you should have brought up your initial feelings for the explosion hero to your admin the moment it arose. But the thought and the way you were always so happy to be around him eventually overruled your logic. Five months ago, you had stayed at the hospital until nearly three am, talking with a severely concussed Bakugou. You were stationed for an overnight round with the task of making sure that he didn’t fall asleep. And for the first time in your time knowing Bakugou, the two of you somehow clicked into place, and when he was discharged the next morning — the nurse who had a quirk to rid of concussions finally arriving — he had thanked you.

It was so benign, so incredibly simple, yet the way the golden sunshine illuminated his blond hair and made his red eyes shine like a ruby, you found your own tired body feeling heated and warm. He wasn’t such a lousy conversationalist, and you had already enjoyed all your interactions together, yet it still caught you off guard to feel your heart pounding in your throat as he pulled on his jacket and left.

So after coming to terms with your sudden infatuation for the stubborn hero, you began to express your desires and feelings for him without having to say it. For all that he was worth and all that he expressed himself to be extremely observant, Bakugou Katsuki still had no idea that you liked him.

Unfortunately, your scrub nurse uniform wasn’t precisely seductive. The light blue of the breathable, sterile uniform was about as unsexy as uniforms got. But that never stopped you from leaning in too close when doing what Bakugou demanded of you. It didn’t prevent you from accidentally dropping papers in front of him and bending over to show off the curves of your ass.

There had never been a time such as this one where you hated that the old, ‘sexy’ nurse outfits were no longer up to standard and banned from use. How you would have loved to be wearing gartered held stockings just to accidentally flash to Bakugou. But, you suppose that it’s alright. Even though your feelings and ambitions to get the Pro Hero to like you as much as you did him, you never tried to push it.

For now, you were just an asshole tease.

You carried out the rest of your rounds in peace, your pager sitting comfortably in your pocket, unused, unneeded for now. The rest of your four patients were doing well for now.

One was asleep, most likely due to the medicine coursing through his veins, but his vitals remained unchanged.

Another was in the process of getting ready to be discharged, her family there to help her in leaving.

The third was eating his dinner, eyes concentrated on a poker game on the TV as he asked you to help fluff his pillow.

The last was busy with a physical therapist, her forehead slick with sweat as she attempted to sit up from her chair.

All in all, they were all doing fine, and you were back to the beginning, back to Bakugou’s room.

You entered his closed room door to be greeted by an empty bed. Your eyes widened immediately, the initial wave of pure horror flashing through you that by some freak accident, some murderous villain had kidnapped the injured hero straight from the hospital bed.

“Ground Zero-san?!” you called out, a pitched voice of concern frilling your voice as you stumbled through the room. Your eyes were frantically searching the room, fingers feeling the lingering warmth of his body on the bed and your eyes noticing the empty water cup on his table still. The sheets of his bed haphazardly thrown off as if in a struggle.

Your fingers wound around the panic button, your ears straining to hear any sort of sign of Bakugou still being here.

A gritted teeth snarl was muffled from the attached bathroom, and you froze, unable to move as you felt the untouched button in your hands turn as light as a feather. You approached the bathroom door with soft footsteps, the smile on your face, unable to be stopped as you pulled the door open.

The sight you happened upon was something that made your lips curl into a wider smirk as the hospital clothed-clad hero absolutely struggled with his lack of functioning hands and arms to pull down his pants. Something he couldn’t do himself because the socks and slippers on his feet kept him from even attempting to tug his pants off with his toes.

In his struggle, undoubtedly miserable attempt to get his pants and underwear off his waist, Bakugou seemed ignorant to your arrival. His back still towards you, his head tilted down in his struggle as he twisted and pulled at practically nothing.

And as you watched him struggle, you couldn’t help but let your eyes drink in his form that stood tall before you. Most occurrences where you found yourself face to face with Bakugou, he was always tucked in a bed (except that time you realized your feeling for him), whether it was because he needed to be or because he was forced to be. So seeing him in his full height, seeing how despite your size, you were still only at his shoulder, made your eyelashes flutter.

He was tall, so deliciously tall, you wanted to climb onto a chair to see if he would be taller even with that added height. And oh how the flimsy material of his hospital outfit was stretched then against the taut muscles of his back. They flexed and shifted with his aggravation, and the only thought on your mind was to rake your fingers against the tempting muscle and skin.

“Shitty. fucking. villain!” he hissed angrily, sweat trickling down the back of his neck as he still struggled to do what nature called him for.

But you couldn’t help it; the flexing muscles of his back, the lower tenor of his voice, and the way he seemed ridiculously larger than life at the moment tipped your restraint over. Your ability to hold back crashing through you like a tsunami wave, drowning you until you found your hand tethered to the tight spot at the center of his spine, your hushed words drifting to his ear like sweet, warm honey.

“You need any help here, Ground Zero-san?” you asked, your voice just loud enough to have your hot breath fanning against his sweaty exposed neck. You could feel him twitch in your hold, his body stiffening as he whipped his head around to look at you, red eyes wild, wide, and dark.

“Don’t ya know how to fucking knock?!” he snapped, his body flushed at being caught in the bathroom, unable to shed his clothes. He doesn’t move from your touch, and that small detail makes you warm, knowing that he wasn’t entirely repulsed by your touch.

“You were missing from your bed, and I called your name,” you smile despite his angry glare. “I know you are susceptible to hear loss, but I thought you were still in the clear.”

“I ain’t fucking deaf,” Bakugou growled, his face twisted with a frown. “And that still doesn’t explain why the hell you’re here!”

“Oh, were you not just completely struggling earlier?” you feign shock, the grin on your face unstoppable at the embarrassed scowl that sets on his face. You step even closer to him so that your torso is perpendicular to his side. Your hand still gently touching his muscled back, and your free hand gently pressing to his own abdomen, the feeling of his flexed muscles, making you dizzy as you peer down at the white toilet. “Is there a villain in the toilet? I didn’t think that was possible!”

“Of fucking course not, there’s not a shitty villain in the toilet.” Bakugou flushed, his body entirely trapped by you, but he made no play to escape.

“Oh, so did you need help?”

Bakugou stares at you, his mind whirling a kilometer a second as he contemplates his next course of action. The both of you know he needs help, and still, the both of you are aware that his ability to ask of that from you is slim to none given he couldn’t even wait for you to return to his room.

“Tch,” he clicks his tongue angrily, annoyed, completely fed up. His eyes rolling to the ceiling, refusing to acknowledge you as his head nods once. “Help me, shitass nurse.”

“Of course!” you chirp, your eyes finding his hooded ones.

You give him one last warm, sweet smile before the hand on his torso lightly drags down his stomach, soft in its unashamed way of feeling him up. Your head tilted as your fingers hooked into the tight waistband of his pants and pulled it down, the heat of your palm accidentally dragging itself over the imprint of his cock behind his boxers.

The slight, flustered choking noise at the back of his throat didn’t go ignored by you, but rather but aside for later. Your eyes flashing up to see his red eyes wide, his cheeks so lightly dusted with pink as you managed to pull down his boxers too.

“There!” you exclaim, your eyes closing in your grin before you turn your attention back down to his exposed dick.

Immediately, you had to hold back a noise of pure want and lust at the sight of him. He was long, undoubtedly eight inches, definitely more. Although you couldn’t tell how thick, you knew his dick would fill your palm without a struggle. The trimmed, dark blond pubes and the protruding veins are what did it for you, your tongue poking out for a millisecond to wet your lips as you stared at his dark pink head.

“Stop staring at it!” Bakugou hissed, clearly embarrassed if the slight voice crack said anything about it.

You looked back up at him, fake confusion swimming in your eyes as you tilted your head. “It’s only a penis. I see millions of these all the time.”

“Yeah, but it’s fucking weird!”

A soft laugh escaped your lips, your eyes rolling softly as you sighed in retreat, “Fine, fine, let's pee big boy and get you in bed.”

With your dominant hand, you grabbed his dick with a soft grip, pleasure simmering through you at the confirmation of the thick dick in your palm. But it seemed you weren’t the only one who thought that for the moment you tried to steer his dick toward the toilet to assist in aim, Bakugou hissed loudly. His flesh twitching to life in your warm, soft hand as it began to grow upward.

You didn’t say anything; your jaw remained as tight and closed as your vocal box despite the egging need to tease him and celebrate his apparent approval of your touch. So, eventually, in a voice that defied the nervous energy coursing through your veins, you asked: “Didn’t you need to pee?”

Bakugou let out a throaty, guttural groan, his anger hissing between his teeth as his dick twitched again in your hold, growing longer and harder still.

“I can’t take a damn piss with a hard-on, you idiot!” he roared despite the strawberry red blush on his cheeks. You admired the way he was still fighting for control of an upper hand here despite — clearly — not having any.

“Oh, haha! Silly me!” you laugh, your hand shifting against his length, your warm palm getting closer to the base of his cock.

“W-What are you doing?!” Bakugou spluttered, your soft butterfly touches sending him through a loop he clearly wasn’t expecting. “You could just wait for it to die!”

“It’s a nurse's job to make their patients comfortable and happy,” you repeat your words, your hold on his dick growing firmer and harder just as his cock continued to do. “You clearly need to pee, and there’s no telling when your cock will go down.”

“I’LL MAKE IT GO DOWN!” Bakugou yells, but the usual sharpness to his tone has deflated, diminished to nothing but whining embarrassed yell. You look up at his clenched jaw and how a pretty pink glows on his cheeks, and you’re mesmerized.

Looking back down at his growing cock that warms your hand immensely, you hum, slightly twisting your hand around his length. Bakugou shudders, a whine hidden in his throat as you open your own mouth.

“Do you want me to stop?” you question, your eyes fluttering up to look at his clouded red ones. “Do you not need or want me?”

That was a double-headed question if Bakugou ever heard one. He looked at your glossy lips, the way they were pouted, so ready to be kissed, to be claimed, and that delirious look of want and need in your eyes. And he knows better; he knows that this is not the place, not the time to act on emotions like this. The need to pee sits heavily on his lower belly, just like the need to cum makes him twitch and pace uncomfortably. God fucking damn his broken to smithereens arms.

But you already know this, of course, you do. But you also know how stubborn he can be, how anal he can be about the littlest thing. So with no answer, you weaken your grip, making him think that you’re ready to leave, and he falls right into the trap.

“Make it fucking q-quick,” his voice cracks, the embarrassment nearly tangible as you nod your head firmly, your fist tightening around his cock.

Your warm fingers pressed onto his length, beginning at a slow leisurely pace, your eyes glued onto his face, detailing how he reacts to every small flick of your wrist, every little difference of grip in his hands. Your strokes began to grow larger, your fingertips tracing the bulging veins on his cock, your eyes hypnotized by the way his face pinches in his pleasure, the blush on his cheeks, the way the hot pants expelling from his mouth curl warmly in your lower belly.

“Y-You do this with all your shitty patients?” Bakugou growls, but it sounds weak, too blurred and slurred with his increasing pleasure.

Your fingernails drag against the underneath of his cock, tracing the incredibly sensitive skin until he’s slowly thrusting his hips into your fist. “Only the hot ones,” you tease, your thumb pressing against the tip of his beading tip, the warm pre-cum slick and spreading quickly against his flushed tip.

“You’re fucking disgusting,” Bakugou continues, his head tipping backward, exposing the slenderness of his neck that begs for your teeth to sink into. “Just needed to take a fucking piss.”

“Nervous, you’ll pee all over me, and I won’t want to suck your dick?” you ask, your fingers brushing near his scrotum, eyes blazing dangerously at the sight of his gasping, jaw-dropping face. His hips rut forward, leaking cock dripping with his pre-cum, and you giggle softly, fisting him faster, spreading the pre-cum against his heated sex.

Your fingers run against his throbbing length, your palm tight and hot against his cock, the veins you drag across searing against your flesh, ingraining itself onto your skin and memory forever. Despite it all, the obvious near tangible horror Bakugou has on the thought of pissing on you, he continues to fuck into your fist.

“Damn bitch like you would probably l-like it if I pissed on you,” Bakugou pants, his casted arms twitching at his chest. His head tilted away from you, but his eyes burning into you, the red eyes hot as fire against your skin. “You want me to piss on you? Make you my bitch.”

The words burn against your skin, your teeth biting onto your lower lip as you meet his gaze. You’ve never considered it before, never thought you’d be into it. As a nurse, you’ve been around piss, shit, and vomit, and while you had grown unfazed by it, you never considered the prospect of a man pissing on you. But you thought of it, of Bakugou standing above you, free from his casts, hands on his cock as he smirks down at you with golden liquid spraying from his cock, soaking you where you lay.

You shudder, pleasant chills running down your spine as you stare into his eyes yet again.

“And if I do?” you ask, fingers rolling the head of his cock between your forefinger and thumb, relishing in the way that he snarls low in his throat. “What’re you gonna do about that, Ground Zero-san? You gonna piss all over your bitch after you get out of here.”

“You want me to piss on you here?” he asks, his voice snappish, strained, his hips drilling harder into your hand that was quickly speeding up. A battle of power and speed between the both of you as he looms over you, face flushed, pink, and lips demanding to be kissed. “Wouldn’t be surprised if you do.”

“Why’s that?” you breathe, his lips tantalizingly close to yours, a breath away as your hand grips and tightens even more around the base of his cock, causing a pained-pleasured hiss to rip from behind his teeth as he looks at you.

“Don’t act like your shitty ass hasn’t been trying to seduce me every time I show up,” Bakugou gruffs, his hips continuing a drilling rhythm into your fist, his body no longer shy or embarrassed.

“So you noticed but never said anything?” you counter, your fingers shifting over to his swollen, hot balls. You fondle them, tugging at their weight gently, taking in the way his eyes roll to the back of his head and the way his teeth tear into his lip. “Coward.”

“Hah?! Who the fuck—”

You can’t help yourself anymore, your mouth coming to slam against his in a piercing, searing kiss. He moans into the kiss, and you gasp back, tongues clashing together, teeth knocking into each other as awkward, nearing uncomfortable kisses are exchanged. His sweet scent of caramel wafts into your nose, and his grunts and groans are addicting, entirely enthusiastic noises that send your own thighs clenching shut to quiet the heated need in between your thighs.

Your hand increases in its speed, his whines and groans so pretty and piercing into you.

“How fucking gross,” you laugh into his mouth, the slicked heat of his precum lathering your palm until soft noises of your fisting hand begin to fill the sterile bathroom. “You’re a child, wanting to piss on things that you shouldn’t. You came to the bathroom and got a hard-on instead of pissing, Bakugou, aren’t you embarrassed.”

“Y-Y/l/n,” he hissed, his jaw falling slack against your mouth. His hips are drilling into you faster and faster, the throbbing of his cock, the growing, thick scent of his caramel sweat filling the room and your senses. “F-Fuck!”

“Such a dirty, childish pro hero,” you smile your tongue curling into his mouth and dragging against the roof of his mouth as he shudders helplessly against you. “Cum already, Bakugou, cum and piss over yourself like some small brat.”

He shudders, and you find your mouth leaving his own as you stare down, spurting white ropes of cum pour from his tip, completely covering the toilet seat with his sticky white cum. And you watch as soon as his body collapses onto you, entirely spent from the orgasm, yellow piss streaming from his tip.

The toilet fills with his cum and piss, and you grin once his balls and bladder are completely drained. His cock limp and weak in your hand as you hum, your quirk activating and causing the exhausted Pro Hero to recompose himself so that he wasn’t entirely weak against you.

“Such a good patient,” you coo, pulling up Bakugou’s boxers and hospital pants without a second's thought. Patting his butt gently, you watched as his still exhausted red eyes stared at you. You walked over to the sink, washing your hands so that you could continue to finish the rest of your shift.

“Don’t think this is over, shitty nurse.”

You look at him over your shoulder, your fingers curling under the warm water as you grin.

“I expect to be fucked and pissed on next time,” you counter, your smirk devastating and sending a fire right back to Bakugou’s groin. “No freebies anymore.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bbs kinktober 2020 #tw: water sports

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punemy-spotted · 3 years

Text

Of Blackbirds and Barons: Chapter 1

Chapter 1: You Make The Rain Fall Harder

Relationships: Mob!Helmut Zemo x Reader; CEO!Billy Russo x Reader; Mob!Helmut Zemo x Reader x CEO!Billy Russo

Warnings: Non-con/Dub-con; Dark!Fic; Mob and Mafia Elements; Character Death (Minor and Major); Threesome; Possessive/Obsessive Characters; Blackmail/Coercion; Kidnapping; Mentions of War; Human Rights Violations; Contract Killing; Mafia AU; Possible Dead Dove: Would Not Eat; Complete Disregard for Actual Rules of Journalism and Style Guides; Other Chapter-Specific Warnings May Apply

Chapter Specific Warnings: Non-con; Drugging/Date-Rape; Fingering (F-Receiving); Vaginal Sex; Unprotected Sex; Possible Breeding Kink; Kidnapping; Obsessive/Possessive Zemo; Dark!Zemo; Human Rights Violations; Discussion of Destruction of Novi Grad and Sokovia; Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Chapter Summary: The problem with having sympathy for the Devil is that he will drag you down to Hell regardless.

Author’s Notes: Another series! Because I can’t get enough of Mob!AUs! Zemo makes his dark entrance. And this IS dark, so read at your own discretion. As always, all of my work is 18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Masterlist

The long tradition of the Duchy of Sokovia, that which once stood the test of time against the Tsars of Russia, began to crumble long before its borders did, its sweeping architecture and decadent mystery giving way to the sharp lines of Brutalism and the characteristic industrialism of the Eastern Bloc. Still, the Sokovian people managed to maintain their identity in the face of a new kind of empire, bringing greenery and art to a brisk, concrete world.

There is no Sokovia now, not the way one would think, but there are still Sokovians scattered around the world, clinging to the traditions of their once-home and searching for a banner to be united under.

A banner carried by a man like Helmut Zemo.

The caret blinks back at you with a mocking sort of finality, a metronome counting down the seconds to your ultimate frustration. Once. Twice. Thrice — you lose count, staring at the screen until your vision crosses and the words blur together, until only his name remains.

Zemo.

Baron Helmut Zemo.

Your notes are expansive, excessive, papers strewn about you and you look at each scribbled anecdote, each carefully dictated word, each photograph you have annotated until it is more red marker than actual picture and you are… frustrated.

Where do you put all that passion? He asked you over champagne and charcuterie.

You know this man.

You know this man like you know your own soul. You know this man who has bared his soul to you in turn and how are you supposed to impress upon the world that he has shown you the broken heart beating slow and painful in his chest in just a thousand words?

There is nothing. Nothing you can do, nothing you can saywhich could even begin to encompass the horrors which he has experienced and now as you painstakingly tap out word after word describing the grand beauty of his apartment, you wonder if this really was what your life was meant to be.

These are… fluff.

This is a man who has managed to unite an entire fractured country under his royal banner and yet the project wants to know about the indoor garden of his apartment, wants to photograph him in fine suits and know his haircare routine and this can’t be it. This can’t be the face of the man you see everywhere now, moreso since you picked up the assignment, purple-masked and surrounded by brass wings, over the homes of Sokovians all over New York.

And not just there.

I am a man, he told you with his hand on your thigh, But I can become an idea. And an idea is immortal.

You let your eyes skim over the photographs you took, a collection of banners and graffiti and billboards all proclaiming the need for the Sokovian people to come together and heal. To show that their small country — broken and divided in the wake of an attack by a rich megalomaniac’s private military — could not be taken down simply because its borders had been erased and its capitol turned to rubble.

We live in an age of information, and through information we are boundless.

It should terrify you.

It does terrify you.

But inside of that terror is a sick fascination with the man, isn’t there? That’s the trouble with you investigative types — peel back the layers enough and you find yourself capable of feeling sympathy for anyone.

He flaunts his power, and yet it’s innocent. Is it so wrong, then, to want to bring my country back to its glory?

No, you remember answering shakily, but not as well as you remember the pinpricks of heat his fingers left on your skin when that gloved hand brushed over you arm.

Breathe deep, hover fingers over your keyboard and try not to feel like you owe him the weight of the world. He approved of this, even suggested a word count and a topic of conversation — any chance to put his name out into the consciousness of the public, it seemed, to raise interest for the gallery by raising interest for the cause. Make it indulgent. My people, they enjoy art. They enjoy knowing that their leaders have preserved the past for them.

So do it.

… Baron Zemo’s New York penthouse is its own garden amongst a sea of steel and stone, a veritable museum of priceless artworks rescued from what remained of Sokovian museums and ministry buildings. It is, in its own way, an ode to the spirit of Sokovia, which lives on in the hearts and minds of its people around the world. He displays artworks of the many displaced Sokovians, gesturing broadly to a 3D model of an art gallery he intends to have built near the memorial at Novi Grad — with the consent of the Slovakian government — and speaking fondly of his intention to showcase the lost art of Sokovia as a reminder that loss of land cannot be the loss of an identity…

The artworks, they will be painful at first. But the gallery will showcase more and more, and eventually we will have hope.

He waves a gloved hand over the pieces he has preserved. Sokovian history. Scenic expanses, fields and flowers, a city skyline dotted with domed cathedrals. Each painting marred some way too, you can see when you look close. Patched canvas, the dusting of ash and rubble in the corner of an ornate frame, a trick of the light revealing repainting to cover up damage.

A stone hoof sits on a bookshelf, The attached horse and rider blown to rubble in the attack. I’m told it was of Emperor Ferdinand, but my archivists have not been able to confirm, he tells you as he stands behind you, his hand resting soft on the small of your back.

Come. There is more to be seen.

More to be experienced.

His living room is a garden.

It smells like fresh jasmine the moment you walk in, ivy climbing the walls and you swear you can hear birdsong from more than the pigeons cooing outside. Flower arrangement is an often looked down upon art, but the gardens in Sokovia were impeccable. My father won several awards for his pieces before his…

He trails off and you watch him, seeing the pain paint his face as openly as if he meant for you to watch the facade crack and then back to that placid, pleasant calm, a serpentine smile on his face as he extends to you a hand and guides you to the open air of his balcony and bids you Sitbids you Enjoy bids you I have looked forward to his meeting.

It is a pleasure to meet you, Baron Zemo, you begin politely, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear and trying to avoid the way his eyes follow your fingers, feeling seen, We’re grateful for the honor of your patronage for this piece, we know you could have —

Nonsense, he cuts you off with a wave of his hand, gesturing to his butler and then leaning back comfortably in his seat as champagne and various cheeses are brought forth, You are my guest, and I am grateful you agreed to come meet me here, to assist with my… project. Now. Please, enjoy, I do not want to treat this as strictly business.

Is that why he had you come alone?

Don’t.

Don’t dwell on it.

It happens all the time, right? It has to.

A somewhat reclusive man, not keen to be in the limelight, in need of public attention to achieve his goals — you are a means to an end and he is your means to an end, surely you can understand.

Is that why he wipes the honey from your lips and kisses it off his fingers?

This is going to be a difficult conversation and you know it. You can only gush over houseplants and rose décor for so long before it becomes… trite, before you’re a part of the problem, painting a shining veneer over a half-decade old injustice

But he is warm, warm and friendly and you cannot help but laugh to his response when you draw attention to the architecture to draw attention from your blush — Very modern, yes. We are in New York, after all, and the old ways are fine for country houses but not so fine, for sunny penthouse apartments —not noticing the way he looks like he’s just smelled blood at the sound of it, the narrowing of his eyes and the hiding of his inscrutable expression behind a sip of champagne.

Well then. Shall we get started?

Of course.

Why don’t we start with your plans for opening night?Your notepad is out, the recorder sitting in front of you to pick up the sound of your voice and his, ready to commit everything to memory.

Of course. We cannot deny the… elephant in the room, I think you Americans call it. There are many who took pictures of the aftermath of the attack, and not enough who have seen it immortalized…

… The tragedy of Novi Grad and the consequential absorption of Sokovia into its surrounding countries weighs heavy in the Baron’s living room, draped in ivy and jasmine and hanging vines but also in photographs of what was left after a private military corporation chose to turn human lives into a war game.

No one knows who Ultron is, only that he is dangerous, that his technology rivals that of the SHIELD Syndicate’s Tony Stark, that he is willing to ally himself to the highest bidder, and that he is fully capable of unleashing endless destruction upon the world…

You will never forget the photographs he shows you, all that death and destruction in the golden light of his balcony, all that warmth and all you can see is cold bodies bathed in concrete dust.

They call to you, when you close your eyes — answer for our crimes — and you remember the way his voice changes too, so soft and solemn, the brush of fingers against yours when you touch the bombed out shell of a country mansion My home, in Sokovia, to the gray-and-blood horror which forms the centerpiece of his display, and you remember your research too, that the Baron is a widow, that his title is inherited from the most tragic of circumstances, that his son was an innocent lost in the attack and you are furious too, at the senselessness of it all.

It is a tragedy yet unanswered for, more than half a decade since the dust settled.

That quote sits front and center on your mock-up, wondering if you could make whatever editor who would inevitably rip this piece to shreds — just before publishing its corpse alongside some glamour picture of the Baron his coat — finally see the error of ignoring the tragedy. You won’t, but it’s worth a shot, as you lean back in your chair and stare at the screen again.

Sometimes you think about it.

Watching Novi Grad happen from the comfort and safety of your living room, wrapped in blankets as open war broke out in the capital city of what had once been a crown jewel in an ancient dynasty. A playground, a show of force.

Sometimes you hear the screams.

The blinking carat waits for you to add more to this story, to decide where you want to go.

… The Baron plays a game with his interview, insists on knowing his guests just as we insist on getting to know the enigmatic leader who has risen up a beacon for the displaced people of his homeland. We will not be recreating our answers in this article, as they were of course of a personal nature, but we do thank the Baron for taking the time to get to know us just as he bared his soul, his sorrows, and his hopes to a gaggle of strangers seeking to make him known to the world…

Tell me of you, sweetling.

Me? This interview is about you.

And so I must tell all my secrets for free? No, I insist. A secret for a secret.

He watches you with a hunger, coal-black eyes an invitation. Slide your gaze away or fall and who knows what depths he will drag you into and what you will find there?

No.

Don’t look, don’t look as you sip the tea Oeznik brought when you politely declined the champagne — Another time, probably — and let it brace you with its bitterness, let it clear your head.

Breathe.

You’re in too deep now, trapped in this cave of wonders… and wouldn’t it be worth it? Know him as he knows you, follow the trajectory of the smiling man before you.

What would you like to know?

Tell me how you taste his eyes whisper.

Tell me what it would take says the curve of his fingers over your hand.

Let me put you on display hums the razor-blade of his smile.

Tell me what drives a woman to take on such a … dangerous line of work, is the final inquiry, innocent and curious and gentle and you sip your tea and smile.

Is it dangerous?

You must know how many secrets you uncover — and the lengths the keepers will go to in order to hide them.

If people get hurt, shouldn’t I bring that to light?

How noble of you, he tells you with another hum, with his fingers squeezing yours, with his eyes fixed on the gaze you refuse to send his way, It must be quite thrilling.

Let me thrill you too, sweetling.

Pull away.

Do it.

Pull your hand away, make an act of it, pick up a candied strawberry and press it past your lips, let the sweetness soak your tongue and wash away the bitter thoughts, let yourself be bright and chipper and pretend you are not afraid.

Because you’re not.

Of course you’re not.

You are in control here, you must be in control here.

This is nothing. This is a casual interview with a handsome man in his handsome penthouse, an interview about architecture and art galleries and you were a correspondent once and you are meant to be friendly here, not afraid, so what are you afraid of?

What is it about his coal-dark eyes and too-sharp smile that turns your blood, that sends you back into your hutch, little rabbit, what is it about the way he prowls at the corner of your thoughts that makes you shudder so?

What are you running from?

Who are you running from?

Your turn, sweetling.

Mmh?

Our deal, or have you forgotten already?

Yes. You have.

It’s his eyes, you keep insisting to yourself. They drag you in, so dark it feels like you’re drowning in the void of them, searching for the light at the end of the tunnel.

It’s a chase.

It’s what you’re good at.

Right — I’m sorry, I’m…

You blink.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

The fog in your thoughts doesn’t fade, confusion crossing over your features and ill delight crossing over his. All you had was tea, tea and some of the candied fruit his butler brought for your enjoyment, how can you feel so…

Hazy?

So…

Upturned?

Something clatters behind you and you realize it’s the chair you were sitting on as you stand, unsteady and abrupt, lost in the moors of your own frantic thoughts and there is his hand on your elbow, so careful and soft and there are his lips before yours, so…

Tempting.

Somewhere, a woman croons to you of falling rain and rushing blood and the room does spin round as you stand still in the open air of a desire that is yours and not your own all at once. Shhh, shhh, let me help you whispered in your ear, a hand to your cheek and you…

You blink.

Reality flows into view like a sudden bath of ice water. Jerk away from his iron grip, raise your hands and try to resist, shake your head and N-no, I think. I think I need to go, I’ll just call a cab —

I cannot let you do that, sweetling. Not when you are finally within my reach.

His hold is steady. Unbreakable, even, as he pulls you close and you might even be dancing with the way his arm wraps around your waist the moment you fall into his chest, Don’t look so afraid, sweetling. No one will hurt you, here.

I will protect you like a jewel.

Your mind is still yours — the dose was just enough — but your limbs? Your limbs are tied to his strings, lost as he guides you right back inside, lost as he gestures for Oeznik to close off the balcony.

Your place is somewhere else now.

You belong underneath me.

He guides you inside, jasmine intoxicating your senses and wisps of smoke seeming to float past your eyes. Reality blends into the fantasy, the Baron and his prize, the gentle touch against your soft cheek, the cradling against his form and he is…

Determined.

A door opens. A portal into another kind of decadence, with soft sheets and softer touches, the sliding of a mouth over yours as your escape clicks shut behind you and you are pressed between wall and man and you are consumed.

Curl your fingers into the lapel of his coat, lose yourself to the pressure of his lips, the sharp nip of teeth against soft flesh. He tastes of champagne and honeycomb and you are saccharine on the tongue, a mess of sighs and admonitions left unsaid.

My precious thing, whispered into your unfocused sighs, I will take such fine care of you.

And you want to protest, want to insist you are free you are uninterested you do not want this man and his hands under the cotton of your blouse but the words tangle on your tongue and instead all you can do is whimper.

Whimper, and hear him chuckle against your skin, a line of kisses drawn from your parted lips along your jaw until he’s found the thrum of your pulsebeat to draw a gasp the moment his teeth scrape against the delicate skin. He must mark you his, after all, and this he will gladly renew, over and over.

Over and over as he draws you to bed, lays you amongst soft cushions and softer sheets, indulges in the soft curves of you in the golden glow of the room. Your clothes — so conservative, so professional, so unnecessary — he makes short work of even with what mild resistance you manage, Shh, shh, do not fight me.

The heat is yours and not yours all at once, warming your skin and leaving you flushed, leaving a trail of burning want along your skin where his fingers trace over you and centering in your core You need this, sweetling, look at you…

Do you?

Is it you who needs this or he, he who has begun to kiss along your skin, he who presses himself between your legs so impatiently? The accusation lives in your thoughts and passes past your lips as a strangled Nnh-no, ignored without ceremony or appeal.

Protests are useless when your tongue can form no words and your limbs can do nothing but writhe, seeking structure in the grip of his sheets as he unravels you with a press of his lips to that soft center of yours, slick with a need you cannot own and yet all yours.

He maps you with a hungry gaze, fingers already tracing the plushness of your folds, gathering slick like he might have been collecting nectar and you watch him pull back, watch him bring his hand to his mouth, watch him wrap lips around his fingertip and drag the taste of you onto his tongue, One day I shall make you taste how sweet you are…

One day, after he has savored you so deeply.

You are so full of words they burst out of you on a normal day and yet nothing you say comes to light, just the bare whimpers and anxious mewls of your needy self as he returns to inspecting, to enjoying, to savoring the reactiveness of your body.

He touches. He touches as if he has owned your body a thousand times, he touches as if you are delicate, as if you are breakable, as if his fingers might lead you to shattering around him here and now and you…

Are so close, already.

So close, trying to find the strength in your muscles to pull away, to speak something beyond desperation with every curl of fingers against your cunt, with every pleased hum he utters in response to the flex of your sex. Shh… no more fighting, sweetling, I know you can be good.

He knows you can be good, he says, with all the innocence of a man trying to convince his cat to stop clawing the couch, not a man presently holding your legs open with one hand at your thigh and the other curling against your walls while you arch your back. It builds, the pressure, it builds and builds and builds and — Let go, sweetling. Let me see your ecstasy.

Is that what this is?

You keen. You keen softly, desperately, brokenly, as skilled fingers find the spot which makes you, which leaves you breathless and flushed and sobbing, a trickle of tears making their path down your cheeks as you bite your own lip to muffle the sounds you did not know you could make. Wordless and pleading and he notices with a cold smile the way you seem to succumb, hips no longer desperate to escape the curling, stretching assault of two — no, three — fingers preparing you for him.

Hips pressing back towards him now, a betrayal of your conscious-yet-barely-focused mind, that lustful sweetness in you taking over and he can only watch in awe. Awe not at your surrender but at your perfection, muttering in a language you do not understand and yet you understand perfectly what he means — he will have you, all of you.

Ah, I shall so enjoy playing with you more, sweetling.

But not now.

Now his impatience outpaces your need and both outpace his cruelty, his desire to see you beg and so instead he pulls back his hand — and hears the desperate N-no, please don’t — to bring a cruel gleam to his dark eyes and even barely conscious as you are you know he is beautiful.

Beautiful and cruel, as he frees himself and curls fingers around his cock, rubs your own slick onto that soft skin, hisses at the very feel of you like it must be a preview to how you will make him throb, and presses himself over you. Presses himself over you, absorbs the cry of pain or anguish or relief which pours from your plush lips with the punishment of a kiss just as he sinks, hips pressing against yours, stretching you with his full length and Now we are one, my sweet.

Now we are one.

He will take fine care of you but you, you take finer care of him, so plush and tight around his senses, so desperate as you cling, so lost and wanton and he kisses away the tears which continue to sting your cheeks and hisses half-sensible promises into your ear — You will always be mine — as he ruts his hips and practically shoves you forward with every thrust, dragging you back with a snarl and the pressure builds.

Builds and you moan, builds and you sob into his hungry mouth, builds and you hold to him as if he were the last thing which made sensein the world builds and you are consumed and he is consuming, and the release is both of yours, spilling deep inside of you and that too is the final shackle upon your soul.

You sit. In the darkness of your office and you remember, worrying the cuticle of your thumb and staring at the words you have typed while your memory drifts back to that hazy reminder.

… A discussion with the Baron about Sokovia reveals a country rich with history. Once a Duchy of the Hapsburgs during the era of the Holy Roman Empire, the deeply Catholic country clings to the Austrian and Italian tradition of ceremony and indulgence. Baron Zemo plays an example of the hymns sung in the many cathedrals which once filled the country, a mixture of Sokovian and Latin to raise the soul to divine heights.

The Baron speaks of the country’s culture with a warm fondness, of how even during Soviet occupation, the people managed to enjoy games like ice hockey, and football (the European, variant, the Baron would like to emphasize), and even spent time indulging in horse racing. Surrounded by Slovakia and the Czech Republic, it keeps a similar tradition, with a twist…

No, that cannot encompass all that you discussed, and yet that is what the recording shows, words traded back and forth which you do not remember, a conversation of laughter and warmth and none of it slots into what your mind tells you occurred.

You erase. You rewrite. It is the same passage, over and over, fingers acting unbidden of your frantic will and eventually you give in, demand to be done with these words and this screen, eventually you desire peace.

… Baron Helmut Zemo is many things. A historian, an ambassador, a politician, an activist. He is a widower, a man trapped in the past, a man with lofty dreams for the future. He wears his sorrow as well as he wears his happiness, and for those who still call themselves Sokovian, he is their shepherd into a new age.

And as the door to your office opens, your keeper.

#baron zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #dark!baron zemo x reader #dark!helmut zemo x reader #billy russo x reader #dark!billy russo x reader #helmut zemo smut #dark!fic #mob!AU #helmut zemo #billy russo

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leninisms · 3 years

Text

my analysis of hoax because it’s the only thing i think about

disclaimer: this is my personal interpretation. i am in no way saying this is exactly what taylor meant. this is my opinion so please don’t be mean, i promise i cannot handle it.

this includes a brief summary and an attempted lyric-by-lyric analysis under the page break.

summary: i think hoax is about multiple things that all kind of connect in some way shape or form. in long pond taylor says that she wrote this song not knowing exactly what or who it was about. i believe a notable amount of these lyrics are in reference to 2016 and the reputation era, but more seem to be about her masters being sold to scooter and her feelings regarding scott’s betrayal.

lyric-by-lyric analysis:

my only one - my one and only my lifeline (dress)

my smoking gun - you said the gun was mine (lwymmd)

my eclipsed sun - the social media blackout of 2017 occurred on the day of the solar eclipse (reputation era)

my twisted knife - you stabbed me in the back while shaking my hand (tiwwchnt)

my sleepless night - a possible reference to all of the songs in which taylor mentions late nights, not sleeping, or the famous “2 AM” lyrics

my winless fight - taylor is fighting to own her music, but it feels like no matter what she does, she cannot win.

stood on the cliffside screaming, “give me a reason” - loosely parallels this is me trying (pulled the car off the road to the lookout / could’ve followed my fears all the way down), also a reflection of screaming into nothingness, looking for answers or guidance (asking the traffic lights if it’ll be alright)

your faithless love’s the only hoax i believe in - she believed in sc*tt’s kindness and familial love for her, but now she knows money mattered more to him than her friendship. maybe part of her still believes in him, but deep down she knows the truth

don’t want no other shade of blue but you / no other sadness in the world would do - her old music is full of sad songs and the color blue. (”losing him was blue,” “you paint me a blue sky,” “my love had been frozen, deep blue,” etc.) re-recording her music will never be the same as owning her original songs and she’s heartbroken about it. revisiting that sadness wi

my best laid plans / your sleight of hand - we all know how much time and energy taylor puts into her music and her lyrics and her easter eggs. “your sleight of hand” is in reference to scott/scooter stealing her hard work.

i am ash from your fire - they’re burning all the witches even if you aren’t one / so light me up (idsb), now i breathe flames each time i talk (mad woman), etc. this also reminds me of the final stanza of sylvia plath’s lady lazarus “out of the ash / i rise with my red hair / and I eat men like air.”

you know i left a part of me back in new york - taylor loved living in new york. she has made this very clear. but in order to take the time she needed to heal herself and find true happiness, she needed to leave that world behind her.

you knew the hero died so what’s the movie for - scott always knew he’d sell her music, so why would he devote his time and energy to gaining her trust, just to throw it all away for money. why act like he cared for so long if he didn’t? if he knew his end goal, why manipulate taylor into trusting him when he knew he wouldn’t need her trust after a certain point.

you knew the password so i let you in the door - she trusted scott, told him all of her feelings and thoughts, shared her ideas with him and he betrayed that trust

you knew you won so what’s the point in keeping score - i think this is very similar to “you knew the hero died so what’s the movie for?” but perhaps more specific to after the selling of her masters. scott knew the contract was signed and that taylor’s music was sold to scooter. why lie about the process when he’s already won? why try to fight her publicly when he could just shut up and be done with it? why keep the score?

you knew it still hurts underneath my scars from when they pulled me apart but what you did was just as dark - being torn apart by the media and her so-called “friends” was difficult, and it left taylor scarred, but the pain of scott’s betrayal is just as bad, if not worse. she saw him as a family member. he was there for her and he listened to her and then when it mattered most, he suddenly didn’t care anymore.

my only one / my kingdom come undone - she was at the top of the world following 1989. she was a pop superstar, a country princess. i believe this is an acknowledgement of having her reputation destroyed and her life picked apart simultaneously, after having been praised and worshipped for nearly a decade. this idea of a kingdom come undone is also used in “call it what you want”

my broken drum / you have beaten my heart - her heart is the drum, he has broken her heart in a way no one else could.

if you’ve read all of this i love you.

#folklore #taylor swift #hoax #favorite songs: hoax #taylor swift hoax #taylor swift folklore #ts8 #song analysis #folklore analysis #shut up carley #taylurking #folkmore #lyrical analysis #lyric analysis

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poppinisperfection · 4 years

Text

Peter Maximoff x Reader // Hello, Monica // WandaVision // Part 2

Part 1

Post Dark Phoenix X-Men & WandaVision fanfiction. FemReader and Peter Maximoff dating when he suddenly disappears.

Xavier returns and a plan is formed.

Word Count: 1892

Warnings: Emotional distress, mentions of violence, blood, gun wounds etc.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

(Y/n) sat by the screen, her vision blurring and bags forming under her eyes. The analog clock ticked with each second as Hank fiddled around with some tech, and the others sat on the floor half asleep. They had eventually contacted Xavier, and he promised to travel back to New York as fast as possible. That was hours ago, and now it was the middle of the night.

There was nothing they could do, even discussion led to nowhere; nothing about the situation made sense. Metal crashed on the floor, causing Scott to Jolt awake and Kurt to bamf in surprise as Professor McCoy gave a frustrated grunt at his clumsiness. The disturbance didn't phase (Y/n) though, as she read the line for the thousandth time,

"Please stand by."

She was somewhere between breaking into tears and punching every wall she saw. In short, (Y/n) was desperate. After hours of thinking, she finally allowed her eyes to close for longer than a short blink. Her mind was crashing around like a restless ocean, and she found herself drowning inside endless possibilities. But at the centre of it all was his face, his smile, his voice... him.

Suddenly the doors opened with a whoosh, and (Y/n) turned her attention towards whoever was entering the labs. A determined looking man wheeled in, locking with (Y/n)'s blood-shot eyes. An alabaster-haired, umber-skinned, and confident woman followed him; shooting a look of concern towards the group.

"Xavier-" Hank exclaimed with some relief at the Professor's appearance. The bald man gave a small hum in response, but he continued to near (Y/n) instead of making conversation. He placed a hand out and gave her a kind look.

"May I?" he crooned in his English accent, as the (h/c) lady nodded and placed her head forward. Closing his eyes and placing two fingers on her temple, and another on his own - Xavier began to see the whole story, without anyone saying a single word. After a few seconds, his pulled back and gave a sharp sigh.

"(Y/n), I am so sorry." the wise man's voice faltered after feeling the gut-wrenching fear that swept through her mind. The worried girl said nothing, but just tried to keep the strength on her face instead of breaking down into tears. "You've got a location?" Xavier turned to the beastly professor, trying to solve the mystery.

"Sort of- I mean, it's unbelievable Charles." he grabbed some pages and handed them to his colleague, "It's like he's traveled to another universe; I've only heard about theories of multiverses, but this- this is more evidence than anything I've ever read..." Hank rambled on, as even Charles Xavier- telepathic mastermind- look on in shock.

Before anyone could say anything, the old computer screen buzzed and the image shifted. (Y/n)'s tired eyes widened as she sat on the edge of her seat. Even Kurt teleported closer in an effort to not miss a second of the developing situation. A lead guitar began to play, and the opening credits rolled...

The group we're unsure if it was the same show, as it looked completely different in style. But their doubts were cleared when that same woman showed up, slamming the door using some sort of powers.

"She's a mutant..." (Y/n) mumbled, as the others looked on in confusion. The opening continued to play on as more characters were shown - most of which they had never seen before. Then finally, a speedy friend appeared.

"As himself?" Scott added, reading the credits. (Y/n) stared at the title and mentally recorded it.

"It's like they're a family." Kurt noticed as Peter integrated himself so naturally with them. The pair of young boys started to monologue about halloween.

"Halloween? This just gets more and more confusing." Scott rubbed his forehead in bewilderment. Ororo stood beside them, barely comprehending what she was watching. She had previously offered to look after the students while the situation was being investigated, and that lost time had undoubtedly caused her to miss a lot of information.

"So Pete's on TV?" Storm questioned in a baffled tone. The silver haired fellow lay on a couch as the twin boys discussed him, and they referred to him as their uncle. "Okay, somebody needs to expla-" she began, but was cut off as Xavier placed a finger to his temple and transferred the information she had missed. Ororo gave a soft gasp, but ultimately was relieved to be filled in. Since the professor had learned about the situation from (Y/n), some of the grief in her mind was passed to Storm; so the loyal mutant placed a caring hand on her friend's shoulder in comfort.

Xavier chatted behind the group of young mutants who watched the show play out.

"She suggested that maybe Kurt could go in, I told her-" Hank whispered to his friend.

"That would be dangerous..." Charles finished his thought, "But dangerous doesn't mean impossible." the telepath looked towards the blue teleporter who stared at the computer screen.

"You can't be serious, Charles." Hank furrowed his thick brows and stared in disbelief.

"Kurt, (Y/n)," the professor called out, catching the pair's attention,

"Come with me."

-------

The small group trailed down the metallic hallway and approached the familiar doors to Cerebro. (Y/n) looked back at the room they had left, still hearing the distant sounds from the broadcast. Her mind travelled to what she was missing; was Peter still okay?

The circular door released and slid open, and the group followed Xavier's lead towards the machine at the end of the walkway. Kurt's tail wrapped around his leg in fear, as he fiddled nervously with his hands. Placing the silver helmet over his head, Charles nodded for the intellectual beast to flip the switch. Immediately, the room lit up and images of people flashed around. A million conversations ran through the professor's mind, but he was only searching for one person.

"Turn it up." Xavier requested as his eyebrows knit together in concentration. Reluctantly, Hank did as he said. Soon the voices faded and a only a muffled conversation echoed through the large room. "The whole way, Hank." the british man added.

"Charles that's too mu-"

"Do it!" Xavier demanded his face contorting with the amplification. (Y/n) gave a soft gasp as the voice grew clearer.

"I think mom and dad would've loved it."

Peter's words reverberated, as tears formed in (Y/n)'s eyes. Despite Cerebro being on full power, the only thing that Xavier could access was the detached audio of the mind he was connected to.

"Where were you hiding these kids up til now? I assume they were sleeping peacefully in their beds."

"Can you speak to him Charles?" Hank asked.

"Something's... Something's not right... It's too powerful to see..." Xavier stuttered out, trying not to loose his connection. Peter's voice continued, as the group wondered to who and what he was talking about.

"I'm not some stranger and I'm not your husband, you can talk to me."

"There's something... dark... clouding his mind." the powerful telepath explained, "but he's still in there, somewhere." he added. The group began to notice a purple hue clouding the entire room. The clearer Peter's disembodied voice became, the more the mysterious smoke descended. Kurt and (Y/n) stood back slightly, scared of what it could mean.

"Don't sweat it sis, it's not like your dead husband can die twice."

The sentence rang through their ears, before the whole room erupted in a blast of ruby red energy. It was exactly like the force that 'Wanda' had used earlier. Energy passed through the mutants, as images of terror entered their minds. Fragments of memories flashed; glowing stones, broken families, and piles of ashes.

Xavier groaned with pain, but he kept the connection despite the immense power that surged through his mind. (Y/n) grasped her head and panted heavily. The image of a young man lying cold, bleeding through bullet wounds, on a pile of rubble haunted her. She didn't know who it was, but he seemed familiar for some reason - and her heart broke at the sight of his lifeless form.

"He's slipping... I- I can't hold on..." Xavier cried out through gritted teeth, "I can't latch onto anyone!" the room filled with a booming static noise as the bald man searched though all the available minds in that reality. Hank writhed on the floor, clutching his ears with the horrible sound. Soon he gained the strength to pull a hand up towards the switch and slowly tune down the settings. The din faded, and the only noise that could be heard was the heavy breathing from the group that tried to recover from the experience.

"I didn't tell you to turn it off." Xavier pulled off Cerebro's helmet and placed it harshly on its holder.

"It would've killed you." Hank rebutted, standing on his feet.

"There was something forming, a gap in the reality, I could feel it!" Charles placed a hand on his forehead in frustration, "It's like all the minds were under some sort of deep control - but I could sense other ones... ones that were free."

"But what can we do about it!?" the beastly Professor retaliated, annoyed at his colleague.

"If I can find the free minds, I can see where they are; exactly where they are." Xavier began to ramble, "Then I can show Kurt, and you can get there." (Y/n)'s eyes grew wide at his suggestion. Even though she had considered it earlier, she now began to doubt her logic. If it were just her, then she wouldn't hesitate to risk her life for Peter - but she couldn't ask Kurt to do it too.

"Professor, what if... What if it doesn't work?" (Y/n) piped up, looking to the powerful telepath with concern plastered all over her face.

"We can't risk more of our lives, Kurt you don't have to do this." Hank tried to assure the German mutant.

"Nein." he responded, "Peter is my friend, I vill not leave him in danger. I vill do it." Kurt nodded his head as he stood confident in his decision. Despite the hatred that Kurt Wagner had received his whole life; he was always the most selfless person in the room. (Y/n) shot him a weak smile, thankful for his kindness.

"This isn't just about Peter. Somebody brought him there. Somebody, or something, has a power that could change everything we think we know." McCoy warned, trying to convince the group of the dangerous situation.

"Which is why we need to know more." (Y/n) interjected.

"I will be able to communicate with you, as long as you don't go under this person's control." Xavier explained, deep in thought. Hank looked at the trio, and finally gave a deep sigh.

"There's no talking to you people." he shook his head, "I'm sure travelling across the multiverse will be a cinch." his tone dripped with sarcasm as Charles placed Cerebro back on his head.

"Have a little faith, Hank." Xavier joked stiffly as he flipped the switch to the machine. McCoy reluctantly turned the power knob and soon the static noise returned, causing a grimace to appear on everyone's faces. The noise flickered as Xavier passed through more empty minds, searching for one that would work. The sensory overload build up in a crescendo, until everything stopped to a halt.

"Hello, Monica."

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mymothershumility · 3 years

Text

neverflownwithme asked: “Perhaps the world is in need of change.”

past transmissions || { always accepting }

{ Part 1 } & { Part 2 } & { Part 3 } & { Part 4 } & { Part 5 }

{ Part 6 } & { Part 7 } & { Part 8 } & { Part 9 } & { Part 10 }

{ Part 11 }

{ @neverflownwithme }

“This is the last of it.”

Gaze lifts from her desk, quill coming to pause above the parchment she has been recording the contents of the hidden room upon. The process has been a lengthy one, stretching a week and a half after the room’s discovery. Many of the scrolls and tomes from within the space have been accounted for, recorded upon Laira’s parchment as she looked over each and every one.

There are a number of journals among the tomes that she has skimmed, personal ones penned by the hands of Lady Shiera Seastar, Princess Rhaena of Pentos, and Queen Visenya Targaryen. There are others of an unknown origin, as well, penned in an unfamiliar --yet strikingly familiar-- hand.

Thus far, her work has centered around sorting and identifying the tomes, journals, and scrolls that had been scattered upon the desks and shelves within the room. She and Hal have yet to tackle the various trunks that have been pulled from the space. They remain stacked on the opposite side of her solar, shrouded in mystery. It is what Hal now carries easily in his hold, crossing the room to set the last trunk among the others.

When Laira looks back across her solar, she finds the space of the room void of everything but the desks and shelves that are set against the walls as well as the Myrish carpet lining the floor. The look of it seems entirely foreign for a moment. Yet, despite all of their work, there are still a number of questions looming above them. Laira has yet to finish one of the tomes pulled from among the stacks in full. It will take her and Hal both months to do so if they attempt such a task. Of that, she is certain.

And, in the end, it is possible that such a task will be the only way to discover the answers they so desperately wish for.

Setting her quill back upon her parchment, Laira pens the last of her entries upon the surface. There are well over a hundred journals, tomes, and scrolls upon her list. With her recording finished, Laira sets her quill back into its inkwell. She is glad to have the task done, though her back and her eyes now ache because of it.

“Visenya Targaryen and Shiera Seastar penned many of these,” Laira comments, fingers brushing upon the Lyseni crafted journal that had once belonged to the Star of the Sea. She traces the silver three headed dragon that is emblazoned across the amethyst leather, letting a soft sigh escape her. “Princess Rhaena of Pentos has penned several of them as well,” she goes on. “There are others as well, though I cannot discern to whom they once belonged.”

The journals and scrolls that she mentions are scrawled in the language of the Old Empire. Of that, Laira is certain of. She recognizes the language as easily among the ancient pages just as she does among Shiera Seastar’s recounts. What strikes her odd above all else are the mentions of the Freehold, of the descriptions of the dragonlords and the never ceasing ebb and flow as power slipped from one to another and back around again.

There is more, though... recounts of the Five Forts and the Great Empire of the Dawn… of the Blood Betrayal that had ushered in the first Long Night.

Such recounts only spawn additional questions. They only serve in deepening a tale that is already wrapped in far too much mystery.

“Perhaps a change of scenery would do us both good,” Hal recommends, leaving the trunks for then. He leans against the sturdy form of Laira’s desk when he is near enough, casting a look down at the work that she has done. “It seems as if we’ve scarcely left these walls of late.” They have had good reason to. Hal is aware of such a thing. Still, he believes setting their task aside for a time could be of benefit to them. It is possible their answers may be easier to find if they look for them with fresh eyes.

Laira listens as he speaks, gaze drifting over him as he settles his form against the edge of her desk. She cannot disagree with his words. She finds herself smiling, in fact, at his suggestion. It is a welcomed one. “I am surprised that you would object to spending your time secluded away with me, my Lord,” she teases him, watching the way the lines of his body seem to soften with her words. Such a reaction has become more frequent as of late. Laira enjoys witnessing it. “Pray tell,” she begins, chuckling as he moves and bends to set his hands upon the armrests of her chair, “have you grown bored of me already?”

“I feel you already know the answer to such a question, Your Grace,” he says, moving closer to her when she reaches to press her hand beneath his chin. “I believe you merely enjoy teasing me,” he accuses, leaning to steal a kiss from her.

She laughs against his mouth, fingers shifting until her palm is pressed to the line of his jaw. “No more than you enjoy teasing me,” Laira reminds, speaking when he pulls from her. Her thumb briefly strokes against his cheek, the pad of her finger tracing the line of a faint scar hidden beneath the light stubble of his beard. “Did you have something particular in mind for us to partake in?”

Their week has already been one of great change and challenge. In the midst of their exploration and discovery within the walls of her solar, Sansa and Helen had arrived on Dragonstone from King’s Landing in the midst of a torrential storm. Having sailed upon one of the Velaryon ships that often ferried supplies from the capital to the islands of Claw Isle, Driftmark, and Dragonstone, the girls had arrived in the dead of night, utterly terrified after additional events that had transpired within the capital.

Such events still set her husband upon edge when they speak of them. They do much the same to her. There had been little favor for the Tyrells in her husband’s heart when he arrived on Dragonstone, having already forbidden a marriage alliance that Olenna had attempted to put into place between Sansa and Willas Tyrell while he was occupied in the Stormlands. There had been little favor left in her with her husband’s revelations.

When the girls had arrived --cold and hungry and fearful-- only to reveal that Olenna had not only attempted to see Sansa married away, but had also attempted to betroth Helen to Oliver Redwyne’s son, any favor that had lingered within her and her husband for the Tyrell matriarch had burned away to ash.

“The day seems as though it may remain favorable,” Hal says. Those days upon Dragonstone are few and far between, the weather ever changing and often giving way to storms. “Perhaps we could journey down to the village with the girls,” he proposes. “Or take them down to the shore.”

“I believe they would enjoy time on the shore.” Laira has made her fair share of journies down to the village since arriving upon the island. And while the markets are filled with trade from across the sea, she believes that the girls would enjoy their day all the more if granted the time to play. Laira is uncertain when another fair day such as this one will occur on the small island.

It will be best to take advantage of it while possible.

Hal takes hold of her hand as she speaks, turning so his mouth can catch along the inside of her wrist. The kiss that he plants against her skin is whisper soft. “My thoughts as well,” he agrees. He is straightening in the next moment, drawing Laira carefully up from her seat as he goes.

She laughs again, both at his affection and his enthusiasm. Laira is happy to see it after the events of the week. There have been too many times as of late that she has seen the weight of Olenna’s betrayal pressing down upon him.

Such a matter, Laira will be certain is addressed. She will see justice given where it is due. Daenerys would have no need for a Hand who acted in such a traitorous manner. She was confident in that.

“I will ask the cooks to prepare something light for us to carry with us,” Laira said. They had broken their fast with the girls when they had woken. Midday would be upon them shortly, though, and hunger would soon set in upon them once again.

It takes little to convince her niece and her good-cousin to accompany her and Hal down onto the shore. Helen is quick to agree to such a journey, entirely enthralled with the sea and all the mysteries that it holds. And, wherever it was that Helen journeyed, Sansa was always quick to follow after her. It has become far more uncommon, in fact, to find Sansa away from Helen’s side. Both she and Hal find some comfort in such knowledge.

For, wherever the girls travel, their direwolves are there to go with them. Only a fool would attempt to harm the girls with such staunch protection at their sides.

No more than an hour later, Helen is skipping along the smooth flagstones of the courtyard with Sansa’s fingers wrapped securely in her hand. Rose and Dawn trot along in front of them, heads and ears high as they observe everything around them. Several steps behind the girls and their direwolves, Laira walks arm-in-arm with Hal. Her husband’s direwolf companion has positioned herself at Laira’s opposite side, having shown herself to be increasingly protective as of late. She suspects Hal’s own mood to be a contributing factor. His bond with Moone has already shown itself to be similar in nature to her own bond with Viserion.

And, as Viserion often feeds off Laira’s own emotions, she believes that her husband’s direwolf companion does quite the same where his own are concerned.

“They both seem excited,” Laira murmurs to Hal, smiling at Helen’s chattering and Sansa’s answering giggles. Her young niece has been engaged in excited conversation with her eldest cousin since learning of their excursion down to the shore.

“Neither of them have been afforded a great amount of time upon the shore or in the waters of the sea,” Hal tells her. Despite having lived for a time in White Harbor, Helen has never been able to wander about on the beach or play in the water as she has been able to during her time upon the island stronghold. The beaches at White Harbor differ vastly from Dragonstone’s own. The shoreline of much of the North, in fact, is rocky and unforgiving. Its waters are much the same, too frigid even in the heat of summer to swim about in. “However, Helen has been exposed to the water far more than Sansa,” he goes on.

His cousin had confided not so long ago, in fact, that her first time spying the sea had been when she had come to King’s Landing as a bride for Joffrey Baratheon.

Laira hums in understanding, tucking herself closer to her husband’s side as they begin their trek down the winding pathways that will take them to the shore beyond the castle. “I believe they would enjoy Lys,” she says, thinking of the last time that she had visited the Free City. “It is still warm there,” she continues. “They could swim in the water if they wished to. Or, play about on the sands and look for shells at their leisure.” The beach beyond her mother’s manse within Lys had been well guarded at one time. It would be again should Laira ever return to it.

“Perhaps we will be able to make the journey there in the near future,” Hal tells her, bringing her closer when she slips more into the length of his side. He knows that Helen would enjoy the coast of the Free City, having already shown a particular love for searching out tide pools there upon Dragonstone and observing the sea life found within them. And Sansa, he knows, would love the markets.

She smiles at such a notion, leaning until she is able to brace her head against the line of his shoulder. Another quiet hum leaves her, opposite arm reaching across her so her fingers are softly pressing against the palm of his hand. She cannot stop the whispering flutter of her heart inside her chest when his own fingers --warm and strong-- curl carefully about her hand in response. “You spoil me,” she murmurs up to him.

A smile twitches up at the corners of his mouth when he feels the press of her head against the expanse of his shoulder, grows all the larger when Laira’s fingers seek out the expanse of his own hand. “You’ve spoken fondly of Lys on more than one occasion,” Hal reminds, thumb stroking along the bumps of her knuckles. “I don’t believe it’s spoiling you to return you to a place that holds such fond memories for you.”

“No?” she questions, the word marred with a gentle laugh. “A fortunate thing for myself, then.” She pauses, watching as Helen goes dashing out onto the sand ahead of them. The young girl is giggling as she runs, her direwolf giving chase after her down the beach. Sansa follows after her, though she walks instead of runs. Laira can hear her laughing all the same. “There are other places that I am fond of as well,” Laira goes on, still watching the girls as they make their way towards the edge of the water.

The sea around Dragonstone is often colored deep azure, though the water closer to shore is often clouded with sand that is stirred up from the storms that plague the island. Today, at least, Laira can see that the shallows are clear. The water looks incredibly inviting even from where she and Hal are walking.

“What places are those?” Hal has his own thoughts about what they may be.

“White Harbor was of particular interest to me in the short time we lingered there,” she offers. It had been a mere stop in their return to King’s Landing from the War for the Dawn. Yet, the Manderlys had shown them every courtesy possible during their stay. Laira had become especially fond of Lady Wylla and Lady Wynafryd during her time in their hall. “However, WinterfelI, I believe, is the dearest of them all to me,” she carries on.

Laira imagines that he knows the reason, can see the quick flickers of realization as they slowly settle upon him.

“The war that awaited us aside,” she continues, “I was quite happy there.”

“So was I.” Even though Hal had never grown up at Winterfell, it remained familiar. He’d spent more than enough time among its walls, visiting his family with his father. Most of his childhood had been spent among the walls of Karhold. “It was likely the company that made the stay so easy, though,” he went on, smiling at the way she was looking over at him. “I left Harrion Karstark as steward before we departed back south,” Hal reminds. He and Harrion had grown up side by side at Karhold. He was practically a brother to him. There had been no one else that Hal would have trusted to guard Winterfell for Sansa. “He would welcome us back if we decided to make the journey there.”

“We could journey there first,” she offers, her voice sincere. Laira is not opposed to such travels. The more distance, in fact, their family can put between themselves and Olenna Tyrell’s plots, the better. She will not have Sansa or Helen near enough to the woman for them to be used as potential pawns.

“We’ll look to somewhere warmer first,” Hal says, looking up in time to see Dawn bounding into the shallows. Rose is at her heels, chasing after her with high pitched yips. Mere steps from where the direwolves are playing, Sansa and Helen are crouched near a cluster of rocks. Hal doesn’t need to be closer to know they’ve discovered a tide pool. “Winterfell can wait for a time.”

“If my Lord insists.” She smiles at the quick laugh that he gives, the sound partially covered by a snort.

“Will this always be a game between the two of us?” he asks her, returning her smile.

“It is a fitting one, I believe,” Laira answers. “To accompany all other manner of teasing that we engage in.”

“If memory serves, you’re the one who began our little game.” There’s a great deal of fondness in his tone, eyes glancing back to check on the girls. They’re still enthralled with their discovery at the edge of the water. Dawn and Rose are nearby as well, at play in the shallows.

Laira laughs at his accusation, her own gaze turning skyward. Though Viserion is beyond her line of sight, Laira can feel her flying high in the cloud cover. The dragoness will descend soon enough and she will find Laira when she does. No matter where she lingered, Viserion always seemed to come to her. “I regret to say that your memory is mistaken, husband,” she says, laughter still present in her tone. “You showed yourself to be quite proficient in your teasing during our time in Oldtown,” she points out. “You began our game, in fact, the very night that followed your arrival.”

By then, they have stepped farther from the edge of the water. The cliffs now loom high above them, casting dark columns of shadow out along the sand. They are still near enough to the waves, though, that Sansa and Helen are easily seen. Laira reaches to take the canvas bag that her husband has been carrying upon his opposite shoulder, having seized the bag from her as they had departed the Great Hall. He had refused to relinquish back to her as they had walked, insisting that he be the one to carry it down for them. That she had healed from her ordeal within the capital had been reminded and acknowledged, though Hal had continued to insist he carry it in her place despite such a reminder. It is endearing, in truth, how he continues even then to worry over her in such little ways.

The cooks and the maids had done as she had requested, preparing a meal for the four of them that could be easily packed away and carried down to the shore. Mira had even been kind enough to fold the pale gray blanket from Laira’s apartments and slip it into the bag with their meal. Laira had used the blanket during one of her last visits to the beach. It is the blanket that Laira withdraws from the bag, unfolding it and spreading it out over the white sand.

Moone is quick to take up a spot along the edge of the fabric, lying so that her belly is half on the fabric and half in the sand. Her head rests against the top of her large paws, mismatched eyes watching as Rose and Dawn continue their games within the water. Laira comes to sit beside the direwolf on the blanket, feet slipping out of her sandals and legs stretching until she can rest the soles of her feet atop the cool sand. Hal pauses before he moves to sit beside her, looking out to where Helen is calling excitedly for him. She is gesturing to one of the pools that she and Sansa have located, clearly overjoyed at having discovered something of interest.

“You are being beckoned,” Laira says, smiling at the way Helen now runs for them. Dawn is at the young girl’s heels, yipping after her.

“Uncle Hal!” Helen exclaims. “Sansa and I found sea stars! Come look at them! They’re so pretty!” Helen quickly turns her attention to her aunt, smiling at her. “Will you come look too, Aunt Laira?” she asks, her tone hopeful.

“Perhaps in a few moments,” Laira says. “Take your uncle with you, though. Make him entertain you.” She motions Helen closer when Hal pretends to be distracted by something. “See if you can trick him into the water,” she whispers.

The recommendation makes Helen giggle, hand pressing against her mouth to keep her uncle from hearing. Then, she makes a grab for her uncle’s hand, pulling him along with her. “Come see, Uncle Hal!”

Hal pauses long enough to look back at Laira, his expression shifting to something more serious for a split second. “Will you be alright?” he asks. Even though they are far from King’s Landing and among trusted individuals on the island, he still worries about straying too far away from her.

“I believe that I am well guarded,” she assures, hand rising to rest itself against Moone’s head. The she-wolf had made no move to follow after Hal, remaining at Laira’s side instead. “Should I need you, I will call out for you. I have faith that you will come to my aid if I require it.”

Even if Hal had been too far from her, and Moone along with him, Laira would not have worried. Not there. Though she is still hidden from view, the Queen can now feel Viserion lower among the clouds. She is near, likely flying about the Dragonmont or about the far ends of the island. The dragoness could be to her just as quickly if she found herself in need. Still, Laira has no fear of lingering on her own there upon Dragonstone’s shore. The island is safe. Of that, Laira is certain.

Laira watches as her niece leads her husband away, only the faintest hints of reluctance entering the line of his shoulders. It fades easily enough as Helen draws him away, chattering about all that she has found with Sansa. At her side, Moone settles more into her spot, body scooting itself until she is pressed along the stretch of Laira’s own legs. The direwolf’s tail beats gently against the sand when Laira reaches to press a hand to her head, happy with the attention that she’s given.

For a time, she observes her husband and their family along the sands. Hal has always shown himself to be wonderful with children. From the first moment that Missandei had met him, she’d been drawn to him. The young scribe had remained practically attached to Hal’s side in the days that had followed Daenerys’ attack within the Holdfast, seeking safety where she had known it could be found. And, even though they were both older than Missandei, Irri and Jhiqui had shown a similar draw to him as well. Laira expected girlish infatuation in place of anything else, however. Even the stableboys there upon the island and Mira’s own daughters flocked to her husband when he was near to them.

Laira quite enjoys watching such displays. Hal is always attentive, always listening and conversing with the children that seek him out. Should the gods allow it, he will make a wonderful father. She feels her heart give a brief flutter at such a thought, grief momentarily snapping within her chest. Had poison not been slipped into her cup within the Holdfast, how close would their children have been to birth by then? Three moon turns? Possibly four? It would not have been so far away. By then, Laira would have been able to feel their movements.

It has been a time since Laira has allowed her thoughts to linger upon what was stolen from her and from Hal in the capital. She does not like the pain that swells in her heart when she does… does not like the sorrow she sees reflected in Hal’s own features when she mentions it. Still, Laira cannot help but dwell upon what might have been if someone had not struck against them.

There is nothing that can be done to right the wrongs that have been done in the past, yet there is a hopeful part of her --one that is far more idyllic-- that wishes there was something that could be done. The thought is pushed away just as quickly as it comes. She knows better than to allow foolish naivety a place within her.

The shift of Moone at her side brings her thoughts back to where they should remain. Laira reaches to press her palm to the she-wolf’s head. She feels a vibration beneath the wolf’s surface when she does, a growl emanating from her throat. Moone’s head rises a moment later, emerald and sapphire gaze settling upon something down the shore. Laira’s own gaze follows the wolf’s. There is a brief flicker of crimson and darting shadow, movement that disappears behind an outcropping of rock a split second later.

For a moment, the Queen is thrown back to the night she and Hal had discovered the room within her solar. A brief flash of memory springs forward, recollection of the being that had lingered beyond the windows of her apartment. She sees the flash of shadow and then the three glowing points of crimson light glowing in the dark.

A hand against her shoulder makes her flinch, heart fluttering wildly in her chest as fear sweeps down the column of her spine. Her head snaps to her side. Sansa is standing beside her, having drawn her hand back from her. The young girl is staring down at her, her eyes wide and hand clasped to her chest.

“Sansa,” the Queen breathes, attempting to calm herself. Her heart is still thundering wildly in her chest.

“I am sorry,” Sansa speaks, her voice small. “I thought you heard me. Please forgive me.”

Reaching, Laira sets her hand upon Sansa’s arm, her touch gentle. “You startled me, sweetling,” Laira says. “Nothing more. I was merely lost in thought,” she admits. She does not turn her gaze back down the shore, though Moone continues to watch the area. “There is nothing for you to ask forgiveness for. You have done me no harm.”

Sansa nods, mouth turning up into a little smile. “May I sit with you?” she asks. “Hal and Helen are still looking in the pools.” Her cousins have wandered a little farther down the beach, Helen perched atop Hal’s shoulders as they search out the various pools and the life that resides within them.

“I would love the company,” Laira admits. She pats the spot beside her, watching as Sansa moves and sinks down onto the blanket with her. The girl’s own sandals have been cast aside, left somewhere out upon the sands closer to the water. “Are you hungry?” she asks, gesturing to the bag at her side. “Mira and the cooks were kind enough to pack a meal for us. You are welcome to anything that you wish to have.”

“Thank you.” Sansa smiles over at the Queen --her good-cousin-- and reaches into the mentioned bag.

In the top of the bag, there are sweetened biscuits with dried cranberries and orange zest as well as savory rolls with garlic, herbs, and sharp cheese wrapped in linen napkins. Below the biscuits and rolls, the cooks had packed wooden bowls wrapped in cheesecloth. In one bowl, there are pieces of thinly sliced cured ham, the very kind that the Queen enjoyed wrapped about figs with sweetened goat cheese. In the same bowl, there are slices of firm white cheese. In the second bowl, Sansa finds carrots, radishes, and sweet peppers. The last of the bowls is filled with sweet black cherries, tart green grapes, and fresh strawberries. There are glass bottles within the bag as well, each of them filled with water.

Taking a sweet biscuit for herself, Sansa breaks a bite of it off from one of the corners. It’s heavenly tasting. The pastry is flaky and sweetened perfectly. “The biscuits are delicious,” she tells her good-cousin with a smile.

“I am glad that you like them.” Laira reaches for one of the savory rolls, breaking it in half before offering part of it to Moone. A flicker of concern slips through Laira when the direwolf does not immediately take the offering from her. Moone frequently begged her for food whenever she and Hal ate, never once refusing anything that Laira offered to her. Only a moment later, Moone stretches her head forward and gingerly takes the roll from Laira’s fingers. Her attention is turning back down the coast only a second later, focus back on the outcropping of rock along the cliffs.

Laira looks back at the area, though she cannot see anything that concerns her. The dart of crimson and shadow had likely been nothing more than her eyes playing tricks upon her. All the same, Moone’s continued focus makes her uneasy.

“Hal says that we may travel to Lys for a time,” Sansa says, taking another bite of her biscuit. “He says that it is warm there… that you have a manse within the Free City where we could stay.”

“The manse belonged to my mother,” Laira explains. “It has been held by members of our family since the dragonlords of the Old Empire reigned.”

Sansa hesitates, nibbling another bite from her biscuit. “Would we be safe there?” she asks, glancing down the beach where Hal and Helen are still walking. She does not believe that Hal will venture anywhere with them that will not be safe.

“We would ensure that you and Helen remained well protected, sweetling,” Laira murmurs, her own gaze following Sansa’s.

“I hadn’t felt safe in a long time… not until I was reunited with Hal,” Sansa admits. For so long, she’d been a caged bird… a little dove in a gilded cage. “But then…” she trails off, her eyes beginning to tear up at their edges. “Lady Olenna cannot force me to marry Lord Tyrell, can she?” Sansa questions, her voice breaking.

When Sansa had first been offered the opportunity to marry Willas, she’d thought the chance to be her only way to freedom. That had been before Queen Daenerys had helped orchestrate the plan that had stolen her away from the Lannisters. That had been before she had been reunited with Hal. All Sansa wanted now was to be with her family. She did not want to be Lady of Highgarden. She did not want to marry a man twice her age who knew nothing about her.

“What Lady Olenna attempted was treason, sweetling,” Laira murmurs. The roll in her hand is largely forgotten. She extends it out to Moone, watching the direwolf take the second half with no hesitation. She seems more at ease now, her head resting heavily against Laira’s knees. “She had no right to attempt to force you into a marriage with Lord Tyrell. She had no right to attempt to force Helen into a marriage with Lord Redwyne’s son.”

To do so while Hal had been occupied in the Stormlands and Laira had been away upon Dragonstone had been all the more underhanded.

“You needn’t worry over such a thing any longer,” Laira continues, her voice gentle. “You will not marry anyone that you do not wish to. Neither will Helen. Do you understand?”

Sansa nods as the Queen speaks, reaching to dab away the tears in her eyes. “Promise?” Sansa whispers, her voice breaking again.

“I swear to you, sweetling,” Laira murmurs, reaching to press her hand down atop Sansa’s. “If anyone attempts to force you or Helen into another marriage, they shall answer to me and they shall answer to your cousin.”

Let Lady Olenna or any other attempt such a thing with her family once again. They would have her wrath in answer to it.

Dabbing at her eyes again, Sansa sniffles and picks a dried cranberry from her biscuit. “I have always wanted to marry someone for love.” Sansa has always wished for a life and a love like those within a song. “Mother always said that love could come after… that love did not necessarily come before a marriage.” Her mother had been fortunate in her marriage, had been fortunate to have loved her father and that he had loved her in return. Sansa knew such things did not always occur. “I wish…” she trails off, considering her next words carefully.

Hal is Winterfell’s heir by Westerosi inheritance law. He has no intention to keep the Northern seat, though. He has already told Sansa as much. He will act as her regent until she is of age. Then, Winterfell will pass into her governance. It was such power that others would always see. They would see a hold on the North through her. They would see her as nothing more than a puppet to be flitted about on strings. “I wish the world would allow for someone to love me for me and not for my family’s seat,” Sansa finally admits. “I do not think that such a thing will ever be possible, though.”

The Lords of Westeros would forever look to their daughters and see tools to gain power.

“Perhaps the world is in need of change.”

Both Laira and Sansa glance up, finding Hal now standing beside their blanket. Helen is still atop his shoulders, looking down at them with a quiet little smile.

“I think that’s what Queen Daenerys intends to do,” Hal goes on, lifting Helen off his shoulders. He sets her back on her own feet, giving her a moment to become steady before he lets her go. She immediately goes to Sansa’s side, squeezing herself between her cousin and her aunt. When Sansa offers her a biscuit from the canvas bag, she eagerly takes it.

“Your cousin is right,” Laira says, smiling when Hal leans to press a kiss against the top of her head. “Daenerys wishes to build a world where little girls are no longer used as collateral to secure power.”

Laira can only hope that she succeeds in such an endeavor. The Lords of Westeros would not be so easily swayed.

The rest of their day upon the shore is without incident. Sansa and Helen linger with Laira and Hal long enough to eat a few treats from their lunch before dashing back out to play along the sand and in the shallows. The trek back up to the castle is as light as their trek down to the beach had been earlier in the day. The girls giggle back and forth between themselves, trading stories and showing one another shells that they have gathered throughout the day.

With sunset still some time away, Hal asks the stableboys to fill one of the large water basins within the gardens with fresh water. All three direwolves are damp from the sea and matted with sand from their playing. Even Moone, who had spent most of her time lingering at Laira’s side, had taken a run into the shallows not long before they departed. They will all need to be bathed and rinsed before entering the castle again.

The girls stay behind to help, Helen already starting to pour clean water over Dawn’s back as Laira walks the steps up into the Great Hall. The direwolf sits without a fuss, letting Helen do as she wishes.

It is cool inside the castle. The torches along the walls have been lit in preparation for night. As Laira walks, she can hear the chattering of the maids and the cooks within the kitchens, all of them going about their tasks. It’s a comforting sound, she realizes. Everyone within the castle seems utterly content. It’s a stark change from the Red Keep… from the attendants that had been present within the palace when Daenerys had taken the city. She lingers for a moment, poking her head into the busy space to check on all those within.

Mira gives her a smile when she sees her, seated at a small table with her daughters and her mother. Ser Aeron is seated across from Mira and her family, talking and laughing with her maid’s little girls. Celesse is pouring a splash of cream into a bowl across the kitchen. She brings it back to Ser Aeron, setting it down in front of the man with a kind hand against his shoulder. The master-at-arms smiles at her, thanking her before taking a bite of what Laira believes to be peach cake. The cooks had received fresh peaches just a few days ago and had been using them frequently in sweets and salads.

“Did you and your family enjoy your day, Your Grace?” Mira calls, standing from the table. She carries a tray in her hands as she does, moving so she can deposit them in the sinks across the kitchen.

“We did,” Laira assures. “Perhaps your little ones could accompany us the next time that we venture to the shore.” She smiles when she notices the way Mira’s daughters brighten. She doubts they have ever been extended such an invitation before. “Sansa and Helen would no doubt love to have playmates closer to their own ages.”

“That is very kind of you, Your Grace,” Mira answers, smiling over at her daughters. “I am sure they would enjoy such a thing very much.”

Laira looks to Ser Aeron then. “Be sure that the stableboys eat as well, Ser Aeron,” she tells him. “They were kind enough to help my husband with an endeavor with the wolves,” she says. “Be sure that they both take food home for their families. And you as well.”

“I’ll fetch them myself, Your Grace,” Ser Aeron answers, spearing another piece of peach cake with his fork. “Thank you.”

Laira leaves them only a few moments later, pausing to be certain that Celesse and the cooks have enough to eat and enough to carry food back to their families. When Laira enters the hallway that houses her and Hal’s apartments, she pauses at its end. The doors to her rooms are ajar and there is a shadow moving within the space. Her husband and her family are still down within the gardens, tending the wolves, she knows. And her attendants are within the Great Hall, milling about in the kitchens.

She hesitates only a moment before she is moving, feet quiet against the dark stone. Glancing around the doors into her apartments, Laira finds the space empty. Across the living space, the doors to her solar are thrown open. There is a fire burning within the hearth. Another shadow flickers along the wall within the small space.

Dark Sister is still propped at the end of her bed, resting against the onyx colored chaise. She moves without a second thought, hand wrapping about the grip. The Valyrian blade is pulled from its scabbard as she crosses the room, the steel gleaming in the faint firelight. There is a feminine figure standing before the hearth when she steps into the solar. Clad in all crimson, dark hair spills down the other’s back. The design upon the woman’s crimson robes identifies her before anything else can.

A Red Priestess. A servant of the Red God, R’hllor.

The priestess’ head tilts slightly. Laira can see the quirk of the woman’s mouth from where she stands. “Daughter of Death,” the woman speaks, the words flowing off her tongue in the language of the Old Empire. “We have much to discuss.”

{ @truetargaryen & @fullrangeofemotions & @thequeenmaker & @xcoatlicuex & @hisvipereyes & @viperparamour & @nolongerhispawn & @shewhoisironborn & @adornishviper & @anunfailingkindness & @ialwayswasthebest & @iveneverbeenagoodgirl & @aladyofwinterfell & @therosesofhighgarden & @arisiarrxb & @alionessroars & @zaldrizo & @fairytalesandstars & @queeniolande & @yrracynrxl & @scaleddoe & @scraniknatu }

#neverflownwithme #;transmissions #v; fire cannot kill a dragon #otp; you are the light in the dark #gv ;; the dragon must have three heads #[[ new friend at the end ;D ]]

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leon-scott-kennedy · 3 years

Text

Distrail

Chreon, Rated-T

Read on Ao3

For a price, anyone could check into a seedy motel, even three people covered in blood, guts, and grime, no questions asked, especially with the ashes of Raccoon City still cooling 100 miles away. So the horizon still held a faint glow of destruction when Leon and Claire stumbled, barely conscious, through the front door of the Tadpole motel at 2 PM October 1st, using each other as support and Sherry clinging to Leon’s back like a koala if a koala drooled and snored.

Two other motels along the highway turned the odd couple away, rumours already flying about Raccoon City, zombies, and a nuclear cover-up. But at the right price, triple the going rate, Claire managed to convince the manager to let them bunk down, courtesy of Leon’s stressed credit card.

The fact Leon’s credit card worked, or that he even still had his credit card, was a miracle. His wallet hadn’t exactly been a priority, and honestly, they could sleep in a cockroach-infested basement, and Leon would be happy because they were dead on their feet after hiking on foot what Leon estimated to be a good 30 miles of rough terrain to get to the nearest town. The sun barely peeked over the horizon when the sky behind them exploded.

Raccoon City was gone. The people Leon had sworn to defend were gone. Sherry and Claire were all he managed to protect, and he’d be damned if he failed now.

The motel room wasn’t terrible; two double beds, a small tube TV, and a leaky faucet. It wasn’t good, but it wasn’t something out of a horrible nightmare. They’d left that behind them.

“I’m glad we don’t have a blacklight,” Claire joked, but her tone fell flat.

Leon nudged the bed farthest from the door suspiciously with his boot, dragged back the yellow duvet, and inspected the mattress before he lay Sherry down and tucked her in. He even let Claire shower first, insisted, while he watched Sherry sleep, tossing and turning and whimpering from reliving the horrors in her dreams until Claire emerged from the bathroom, hair still damp, and crawled into bed beside Sherry.

By the time Leon scrubbed his skin raw, the water was cold, and Claire had passed out cold with Sherry cuddled up beside her, little hand tangled in the front of Claire’s dirty tank top like a lifeline. Leon passed out face first on the other bed. He couldn’t even muster the energy to get under the covers.

Movement woke Leon. He jolted awake, reaching for his gun on the bedside table, only to find Claire, fully dressed, perched on the end of his bed and tugging one of her boots. She smiled sadly at the gun levelled at her head.

Leon lowered Matilda, gasping for air. His arm fell limply to his side. “Claire?”

“Hey.” Claire pulled on her second boot. “Sorry.”

Leon blinked at the sleep crusting his eyes. “What... what are you doing?”

Claire sighed and set her foot back down solidly on the ground, hands grasping her thighs. “I need to find Chris. I need... I need to know he’s okay.”

“Now?” Leon glanced at the clock. The bright red numbers read 7:46. The setting sun outside glowed faintly behind the curtains.

“If you ever need me...”

“Forget me. What about Sherry?” Leon snapped, somewhat mollified when Claire winced.

“I know you’ll take good care of her.” Claire’s attention briefly snapped to the sleeping 12-year-old that had survived literal hell. “Leon... if I didn’t have to.”

“Yeah. Yeah, whatever,” Leon scoffed, then rolled over. His heart thundered in his chest. He heard Claire briefly wake up Sherry to say goodbye, promising they’d be in touch, that if Sherry ever needed her, all she needed to do was call.

The door creaked open. Leon clenched his eyes shut, willing down the panic swelling in his chest until it ached. This was it. He was all Sherry had left. They were on their own.

“Take care of our girl for me.” Claire’s voice was barely a whisper.

Leon’s hands trembled, buried in the sheets and pillows, he struggled to suck down air, and his hearing fuzzed. Claire was gone.

For hours, Leon faded in and out of consciousness, barely able to keep the crush of dread at bay. Finally, at some point around 3 AM, he gave up all pretense to sleep and kept a vigilant guard. He jumped at a car alarm, tensed at the slam of a door, and clenched Matilda tightly when soft footfalls passed their door. Eventually, Sherry climbed into his bed to watch early morning cartoons with him.

“Is Claire going to be okay?” Sherry asked softly. She hugged Leon’s arm, cuddling into his side like he used to with his grandma.

“Yeah. Don’t worry about her,” Leon said. He slumped to the side, gently resting his head on top of Sherry’s. “She’ll be fine, kiddo.”

When the sun rose, Leon and Sherry trekked down to the front office to extend their stay another night, then hiked into town searching for clothes and sustenance. Being out in public, surrounded by people, set both Leon and Sherry on edge. They jumped at the slightest sound, and Sherry refused to release Leon’s hand for anything less than going to the bathroom, and even then, he had to stand guard outside the stall. Thank god he had pissed before they left the motel because Sherry was clinging to the back of his jacket while he tried seemed ridiculous.

Their shopping trip was quick. They grabbed what they could, Sherry setting a brisk pace through the little thrift store they found, dragging Leon from rack to rack. They scrounged up a few changes of clothes, socks, underwear, which Leon was a little uncertain of, a jacket that fits over his side holster since he had a license to carry, and a backpack that they filled with snacks and a deck of cards from a little corner store. It turns out Leon’s palette was similar to a twelve-year-old.

The tenuous credit limit finally crapped out on Leon when he tried to buy a six-pack at a shady liquor store on the way back to the motel.

“No job. No money. Just great,” Leon sighed.

For the rest of the day, they holed up in their room munching on junk food, watching terrible daytime TV, and playing Go Fish until Leon made the brilliant decision to teach Sherry how to play poker, and she fleeced him for all the Cheetos.

Leon had no plan beyond survive, and he hadn’t even planned for that. His body ached from being tossed by mutated monsters and shot. His wrapped shoulder twinged.

“Shit,” Leon cursed and clutched his wound. They needed help. He needed help. Taking care of a kid without any resources would be impossible; never mind, he’d never taken care of a person in his life. He had no siblings, no parents. His grandma died when he was nine.

Leon smiled at Sherry in reassurance when she questioned him. This little girl couldn’t be another statistic of the system. He could fix that. He would fix that.

Covered in orange Cheeto dust, Sherry crashed around 8 in the evening. The glow of the sun behind the curtain reminded Leon of the mushroom cloud that had enveloped the sky 36 hours ago. Leon’s stomach twisted in knots. Every creak, every thump, every squeaky break, Leon tensed, waiting for something to crash through the door and disrupt the precarious peace.

Leon hunkered down on his bed, the one closest to the door and any potential threat that came for them, and prepared for another sleepless night on edge.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Around one in the morning, his eyes beginning to droop, Leon nearly fell off the bed in his mad scramble for his gun when someone knocked heavily on the door. Checking his clip, Leon cautiously crept to the door, motioning for now very awake Sherry to stay out of sight.

“Who is it,” Leon called.

“Hi. Look, I’m sorry to bother you. My name is Chris Redfield. I’m looking for my sister Claire.”

Leon blinked and glanced back at Sherry, whose head had popped out of the blanket at the sound of Claire’s name. Then, double-checking he had bolted the chain, Leon opened the door a crack to peek out.

A man a little taller than Leon stood under the flickering light outside the door, his hair cut short and a 5 o’clock shadow. Chris Redfield, decorated member of the Racoon City Stars Division. Leon recognized him from the old photo Claire had shown him, but also the records he’d run across during his frantic hunt through the Police Department.

“Chris?” Leon said, astonished it was actually him. He slammed the door, unbolted the chain, and flung the door open again. “What the- Claire’s looking for you. What are you doing here?”

Chris, who eyed the gun uncertainly, brightened at the mention of his sister. “Is she here? The manager at the front recognized her. Said she was here with some guy and a kid.” Chris glanced past Leon into the room to Sherry curled up in the other bed peering out with curious fear from under the blankets.

Leon shook his head, eyes scanning the parking lot. “She’s not here. She left this morning to find you.”

“Fuck.” Chris winced and glanced at Sherry again. “Shit, sorry.”

Sherry giggled into her hands, and Leon rolled his eyes. “I think she’s dealt with worse.” Like the apocalypse.

“But she’s okay. She’s alive?” Chris asked.

“Who? Claire? Yeah. Yeah, she’s fine. Saved my ass more than a few times.” Leon smiled wistfully and then frowned. So Claire had left, and now, here, her brother was trying to track her down. It must be nice to have someone that gave a damn about you.

“Oh, thank god.” Then, finally, all the tension and stiffness in Chris’ posture melted. “I got her message, and...”

Leon scanned the dark parking lot again for any sign of life, then gestured into the motel room. “You should come in.”

“No.” Chris waved off the invitation. “No, I need to find her.” But the fatigue in his voice threatened to topple him, and that would definitely fell Leon if he tried to catch him.

“Dude, you’re dead on your feet,” Leon said. “It’s the middle of the night. Crash for a few hours.”

“Yeah!” Sherry chimed in, bouncing on her bed. “Stay!”

Chris shook his head. “I can’t.”

Leon pursed his lips. “Look, I don’t know you, man. But I do know that if you pass out behind the wheel and wrap yourself around a pole, you’re pretty damn useless to her.”

Chris opened his mouth to argue, and Leon sighed, tilting his head to the side, ready to give up when Chris snapped his mouth closed and cleared his throat. He studied Leon closely, scrutinizing him like he would a suspect, but Chris must have been satisfied with what he found - weakness, terror, immaturity - because he finally said, “just a few hours.” And the anxiety squeezing the life out of Leon eased, just a tiny bit. Enough that he could breathe.

Chris excused himself to run and grab his go-bag, and Leon cursed his stupidity because nothing was stopping Chris from running. That tightness immediately returned, but a few minutes later, another sharp knock sounded at the door.

Leon smiled tiredly and welcomed Chris into the room, relieved to have the company, someone who knew what they were doing; an adult. Leon grew up fast, but he’d never been an adult in his life. Racoon City was supposed to be a fresh start, and now, he was back to square one. Not even. He was in the basement of square one—the root cellar.

Leon finally caught a good look at Sherry with the lights on, still covered in orange dust, her fingers and cheeks stained. “Jesus. Did you eat the Cheetos or roll in them?”

Sherry laughed. “Leon taught me to play poker, and then I won all the cheezies,” she said to Chris, who grinned.

“Nice job.” Chris offered her a high-five, which she eagerly accepted. The hero worship was already forming.

“He gets a little wrinkle right here when he lies,” Sherry said, pointing a small finger between her eyebrows.

“Okay,” Leon said, scooping Sherry off the bed and carrying her off under one arm. “Let’s get you cleaned up and back in bed, munchkin.”

Cheeto dust proved a formidable adversary, but they managed. When they walked back into the room, Chris was standing exactly where they had left him, his bag still slung over his shoulder and his boots laced.

Getting Sherry tucked back into bed became a struggle now that the brand new company hyped her up; no hesitation whatsoever. She liked Chris. She even made Chris put her to bed, Leon faking offence at being disregarded for the new guy, but there was something about seeing a six-foot boulder of a man coax a tiny twelve-year-old back to sleep that made Leon’s chest ache. Especially when Chris told the story of how Claire was convinced that if she left fake teeth under her pillow, she could trick the tooth fairy into giving her more money. It never worked. The tooth fairy left chocolate coins instead. Fake money for a fake tooth.

Leon watched perched on the edge of the other bed, a little envious of Chris’ skill with kids. He double-checked the safety on his handgun, then the clip. Chris eyed Leon as he set his weapon back down on the bedside table, and Leon couldn’t muster the energy to be self-conscious about his paranoia.

Chris may be Claire’s sister and a fellow survivor of Raccoon City, but Leon didn’t actually know him. For all he knew, he was a traitor like Irons or Wesker. Maybe he wasn’t the man Claire believed him to be. What the hell had he been thinking? Inviting a stranger to stay with them?

With Sherry asleep again, Leon and Chris were left to settle in for the remainder of the night. For Chris, that meant shedding his bulky jacket and combat boots.

“It’s Leon, right?” Chris said. He stood awkwardly beside the bed, watching Leon click off the light and climb under the blankets, tucking himself up against the edge of the mattress as close as he possibly could without toppling off. “Claire mentioned you in one of her messages.”

Leon almost facepalmed. He hadn’t introduced himself. He really was doing everything backwards. “Yeah. That’s me. Leon S. Kennedy.” He curled up into a small ball.

“Jesus Christ.” Chris swiped his palm across his mouth. “You’re the new rookie.”

Leon chuckled humourlessly, his hands tightening into fists around the sheets pulled up to his neck. “Was a hell of a first day.”

Chris picked up real quick that Leon didn’t want to talk about it. So instead, he climbed into his side of the bed, the one closest to the door. The mattress dipped under his weight, and Leon tensed. Where else would Chris have slept? The floor? The last person Leon shared a bed with was his ex, who had seemingly saved his life. If she hadn’t broken up with him, if he hadn’t gotten drunk, if he hadn’t slept in hungover as hell, he would have arrived right in the middle of the initial panic, and who knows if he would have survived that. No one else in the department had.

What would it have been like? The screams, the moans, the pleas for help- the sounds still played on repeat in Leon’s head. Lieutenant Marvin Branagh, mouth agape, stumbling towards him with his hands out. Leon had put two bullets between his eyes.

The first indications of a panic attack slammed into Leon. Abruptly, his throat closed. He couldn’t breathe, his vision slid out of focus, and his chest compressed. Like someone reached into his chest and squeezed his heart in a vice. His entire body shook.

Suddenly, a warm voice murmured in his ear, the soothing tone talking him down, calming him. Leon wasn’t alone. He wasn’t trapped in the police station battling endless waves of the undead, the people of Raccoon City he’d taken an oath to serve and protect.

“Leon, kid, you need to breathe,” Chris said. His presence was a solid wall behind Leon. “I’m going to touch you, okay?”

Leon focused on Chris’ voice. His vision began to swim back into focus, his hearing rushed back in a sudden wall of familiar night noises like the drip of the faucet in the bathroom or the lonely car that passed on the highway. He nodded, not fully understanding what Chris was saying. An arm slid around his waist and pulled him back into a firm chest. Leon flailed, seconds from panic again when Chris’ voice rumbled in his ear.

“You’re going to be okay. I got you.”

Leon grasped Chris’ arm, his grip probably tight enough to leave bruises, and he choked on a shuddering sob.

“It’s okay, Leon. You’re going to be okay.”

Gasping for air, Leon rolled over and buried his face in Chris’ chest, and Chris let him. Leon’s sobs were muffled in Chris’ arms, not wanting to disturb Sherry in the next bed. He felt every subtle muscle flex when Chris tightened his grip or shifted them into a more comfortable position. That’s how Leon passed out, wrapped in the reassuring embrace of a complete stranger, one who understood the hell he’d lived through and the fear and uncertainty he felt in his soul.

Morning came quickly. Leon woke up still curled into Chris’ chest with a death grip on the other man’s faded t-shirt. Chris’ nose was buried in Leon’s hair, each soft snore ruffling his hair, but his embrace hadn’t lessened overnight.

The warmth of embarrassment burning, Leon snuck out of bed, anxiously loosening Chris’ hold and dashing for the safety and solitude of the bathroom, horrified at his complete lack of control the night before. No one had held him like that before, at least not since he was a child and his grandma would sit up with him after a nightmare. But, sadly, this was another type of nightmare, a waking one.

When Leon finally mustered the courage to wander back into the room, Chris was up, sitting on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees.

“You okay?” Chris asked the same time Leon burst out, “I’m sorry!”

Chris sighed. “You didn’t do anything wrong. When I showed up on your doorstep last night, I saw right away that you were barely holding it together.”

Leon’s fists clenched at his side. He couldn’t meet Chris’ gentle gaze.

Chris crossed the room in two enormous strides and considerately grasped Leon by the shoulders. “It was the shock finally hitting you. It happened to me too, but I was alone,” Chris admitted. “Hey. Hey, come on. Look at me.”

Leon bit his lower lip, but he slowly looked up, eyes stinging. “I don’t know what to do.”

Telegraphing his movements, Chris gently pulled Leon into a tight hug. “You’re not alone. We’re going to do this together. I want to take Umbrella down, but first, I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

Leon jerked back so fast Chris stumbled. “I want to help. I want to make those sons of bitches pay.”

Chris smiled. “Good. But first, I have a safe house.”

Together, they set the plans. Leon and Sherry would meet Chris in two days, hopefully with Claire in tow, at Chris’ new safehouse three states over. Sherry and Leon could catch a bus a couple miles down the highway to get them most of the way. The trick would be getting up the mountain to the cabin. But they were in this together. Hope simmered once again.

Armed with a freshly drawn map on motel stationery, Leon watched Chris pack. Umbrella wouldn’t know what hit them.

“Here. Take it.”Chris handed Leon two rumpled twenties, a five, and a few ones he dug out of his wallet. “It’s all the cash I have on me, but it should be enough to get you there. I’ll drop you off-”

“No.” Leon took the cash, but waved off Chris’ offer to give him and Sherry a lift to the bus station. “It’s in the opposite direction. We’ll be fine.”

“Two days,” Chris promised. Sherry had climbed out of bed and now clung to Chris’ arm as if he couldn’t leave as long as she was attached. He ruffled her hair. “With or without Claire, I’ll be there and we’ll go from there.” Chris grabbed Leon by the back of the neck and dragged him into a gruff hug, their foreheads lightly pressed together. “It’s gonna be okay, kid.”

And Leon believed him. That is, until two hours later when an unmarked vehicle pulled up on Leon and Sherry hiking down the side of the road, hand in hand. They never made it to the rendezvous.

#chreon #leon s kennedy #chris redfield #claire redfield #sherry birkin #re2make #re fanfic #leon kennedy #kennfield

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thewildomega · 3 years

Text

Broken but not Shattered Ch.6

Sitting outside of the hospital wing he waited for Madam Pomfrey to relay any news to him on his darling's condition. Looking up as something caught his eye he thought it may be someone coming to allow him inside but instead he was met with the back of the headmaster as he entered the medical wing, the heavy wooden door closing behind him. Feeling his heart hammer in his chest he swallowed thickly. Had Madam Pomfrey called for him? Was he there because of Y/n? Had something happened to her? The seconds seemed to pass like hours as he waited there in silence. When the doors suddenly opened again he looked up to see those two blue eyes looking down at him from behind his spectacles and he just knew the man was aware of what he had done.

"Come Severus, you and I must have a talk."

That was all Dumbledore said as he turned and started walking, expecting him to follow. Standing from his seat he cast one last glance to the door his female was behind, feeling that pulling in his chest stronger than ever. Having no choice he looked away and followed the headmaster to the tower on the back left corner of the castle, going the whole way up to the man's office, the whole time his heart feeling like it was going to beat out of his chest.

"Please, have a seat."

Licking his lips he kept his head down as he moved to one of the chairs in front of the man's desk. Looking up he watched as the man moved around the room, making tea it looked like. When he placed a steaming cup in front of him he swallowed hard.

"Mint and Chamomile, to help calm your nerves. I have no doubt that you are on edge, the claiming process has been known to affect both parties in that way. Though omegas tend to get it the worst."

Snapping his eyes up Dumbledore he saw the man giving him a knowing look, his brows raised and his head tilted downward before he turned away once again. Letting out a long breath he felt his stomach drop, so he did know. Reaching forward for the tea he took a sip, hoping his headmaster was right about it helping to calm his nerves. Seeing the man come back to sit at his desk with his own cup if tea, lemon by the smell of it, he took another long drink from the cup. Blinking he felt his anxiety dwindling down but the pulling in his heart made his brows knit together. Meeting the man's eyes he took a deep breath, "How is she? Is she alright?"

Humming he set down his cup, "Our dear Y/n is well yes, she is resting peacefully with the help of Madam Pomfrey's sleeping draught." Seeing how this alerted the young male he gave a soft grin, "Not to worry Severus it was a small dosage, only to help her sleep off the events of today. You did well in your attempts to heal the mark, no doubt easing her pain."

"It would not heal completely." he spoke with a small shake of his head.

"Not a mistake on your part I assure you. Claiming marks are meant to scar, even magic can not help with that." Seeing him nod he took a deep breath. "Now, I would like you to tell me what happened in that forest."

Sighing he gave another nod before going into detail about the events from tonight. Knowing now that the male knew what his female was, that she was an omega he saw no point in keeping anything from him. Not to mention it was well known that Dumbledore always knew more than he let on. "... To be honest sir I do not understand it all fully myself. It was as if I could not control my own body, I did not even recall what I had done until minutes after I had already done it.... I.. I hurt her. I did not mean to, I...."

Watching the young male struggle to understand it all he furrowed his brows. He was aware of Severus's status, or rather his supposed status. He himself believed there was more to the boy than your average beta but his records stated otherwise so he had never spoken against it. They would of course have to be changed now that the truth had come out but that was not of importance right now. "Severus, I know you meant Y/n no harm, that it was not something you could control."

"But why did I loose control like that? Why does it feel like there is this whole other person inside of me, telling me, forcing me to do things?" he questioned. He had never much cared for talking to people about his personal matters, not even Y/n, but he needed answers, he needed to know what was going on for both his and her sake.

Taking another drink from his tea he stood and moved over to his bookshelves. Searching the spines as he spoke. "You are an alpha Severus, one who's instinctual traits have been repressed for quite some time. Am I correct to assume that this all started when tonight when her amulet was ripped off?"

"Well n...no sir."

"Oh?" he asked turning to look to the boy.

"The first time I ever had that pull in my chest, that pull to her, was when we first met in the courtyard?" Seeing the male's brows raise at that he went to question it but he swiftly turned back around.

Humming he continued walking along the shelf as he looked for one in particular. "That voice you hear, those feelings you get are that of your inner alpha. The amulet that Y/n wears is a concealing stone, which I am sure you put that together yourself. It's purpose is to help hide her true status from those around her in hopes that she would be able to have a normal life. When it was removed by the Hodag so was it's magic and that is why you lost control, you could smell her." Thinking on something he kept his back to him and his hands clasped behind his back. "But it was not the first time you had smelled her scent was it?"

"No sir." Dumbledore stayed quiet for a while after that and he wondered what it was the great wizard was thinking about. Just like before though he was speaking again before he coudl question him.

Plucking the book from the shelf he moved back over to the young alpha. "I know you have many questions, that there are things you still do not understand but perhaps this book may help you with that. "

Taking the black leather book he saw it held no title and furrowed his brows.

"By all accounts except for one Y/n and yourself are now bound to one another, mates. You have claimed her as yours and nothing can be done about it." Leaning back against his desk he took a deep breath, "I of course will have to write her parents, informing them of what has happened..." Seeing the male visibly pale he felt a bit of pity for him. "As for your own parents, well that is up to you to decide."

He would be damned if he would tell his parents a damn thing about Y/n. Knowing them they would just ruin the first chance at happiness he got.

"You are an exceptionally gifted wizard Severus, so with that being said I know you will understand that it is for Y/n's own safety that her true status remains a secret until the both of you graduate. Only then will you be able to protect her to the best of your ability." Seeing his brows knit together he raised his chin. "Understand this Severus, omegas are a extremely rare breed. I have only known of three in my lifetime, one including Y/n herself and as far as I know she is the only one living in our world now. She will be highly sought after you understand." Seeing Severus give a firm nod he grinned. "That will be all for now. Read through that book there, it will help. I will see if I can acquire anymore that I know will help better explain the alpha/omega connection."

Standing he held the book and walked with Dumbledore to the door. "Sir can I..."

"Yes, for a few minutes only, the both of you need rest."

"Thank you sir." he said with a nod. Going down the staircase he hurried down to the hospital wing to see his omega. Quietly opening the door he saw Madam Pomfrey sitting in her office. As the woman glanced to him from her work and gesture to one of the beds in the back he bowed his head. Moving over to the drawn curtains he moved it to the side only a small amount to slip through, glad for the things to give them privacy. Laying the book down on the table he stepped over to her bed and eased down to sit by her side. Looking down at her he saw she was sleeping soundly, her face no longer showing pain like it was the last time he saw her. Licking his lips he brushed back her hair and saw that his claiming mark had been bandaged along with the cuts on her chest, a small amount of bandage peeking out from the neckline of the gown she now wore.

Hearing Madam Pomfrey whisper that it was time for him to leave from across the large room he looked back to her face. Letting out a small sigh he stroked her cheek with his knuckles. Even though he didn't want to leave her he knew Dumbledore was right, they both needed rest. Leaning down he gently kissed her cheek, "I will come see you first thing tomorrow morning." he promised. "Sweet dreams... my omega." he whispered. pressing his lips to her forehead for a few seconds, closing his eyes and breathing in her scent. Standing he looked back to her one last time before grabbing the book and leaving.

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

Keeping his word he woke the next morning and went straight to the Hospital wing to see Y/n. As early as it was it came of no surprise to find the female still sleeping so he instead pulled the chair close to her bedside and opened the black leather-bound book to start reading. His classes wouldn't start for another hour and a half so he would skip breakfast to stay with her as long as he could.

The first thing you were aware of as you came to consciousness was that you were warm the second thing you felt was a slight aching in your neck. At first you were confused but then it all came back to you and your breath stilled in your throat. You were claimed. Severus.... he had bit you, he had claimed you. Going to open your eyes you instantly closed them back as the bright light hit them but after fluttering your ashes for a moment you were adjusted and looked around the room. You were in a bed, a hospital bed from the looks of it. Oh that's right Hagrid was taking you to the hospital wing. Oh no, that meant that Madam Pomfrey had no doubt seen the mark. If she knew then Dumbledore would know. Would you be kicked out of Hogwarts? Was this going to be Ilvermorny all over again? Who else knew? And what about Severus? Had you just ruined his whole life? Feeling your breath quicken along with your heartbeat you went to get up from bed when you felt someone touching you. Snapping your eyes to the owner of the hands you felt all of your panic fade away when your eyes met the deepest of black ones.

He had been in the middle of a passage when he felt a tug in his chest. Quickly looking up to her he saw her awake and trying to move, trying to get up. She looked afraid, her breath coming out in pants and her chest quickly heaving up and down. Placing the book down he stood and leaned over her, stilling her movements. "Easy sweetheart, it is alright. Shhh..... You are alright, clam down..."

"S...sev..."

Grabbing the spare pillow he placed it behind her head to help her sit up some. "Lay back darling. Relax."

Hearing his low, deep voice you let out a deep breath, your heart slowing back down to normal as you laid back on the bed. Looking into his eyes as he moved to sit beside you on the bed you felt him continue holding your hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb. He was here so that meant that hopefully he wasn't in any trouble. Bringing your free hand up to your neck you felt a bandage there and winced as you went to pull it off but before you could he was again stopping you.

"Leave it be." Seeing her look back to him he sighed. "It is going to take time to heal, even then though it will scar."

He still felt guilty, for hurting you it would seem. You didn't want him to feel this way about it. Squeezing his hand you saw him meet your eyes and grinned, "I will wear it with pride. Proof that I am yours."

Breath catching in his throat he felt his eyes go a bit wide at her bold words before a deep blush was coloring his cheeks. Hearing her small giggle he dipped his head, his hair curtaining his face to help hide his blush. "Bloody minx." he grumbled making her only giggle more. Thinking on something he looked to their interlocked hands. "Dumbledore is writing your parents."

Taking a deep breath you gave a single nod and moved to a sitting position. "What all did he say about it?"

He was not angry. He did not say anything about us being in trouble over it." Giving a small shrug he rubbed circles on the back of her hand, "If anything he understood that it was something that neither of us could control. He said that we are now bound to one another, that we are mates and nothing can be done about it."

Thinking on his words you bit your lip, your eyes focusing on his hand holding yours. "S...severus I never meant to place you in this situation, that's why I hid what I am... I didn't mean to... to trap you... to take away your chance to... to be with someone you l..love.... I... I'm sorry that you're stuck with me as your mate..."

There was that clenching in his heart again. Looking to her he saw her head hung low, her voice soft sounding. When he watched the tear fall from her eye and onto the blankets covering her lap he frowned, his brows furrowing together. You fucking idiot, you made her cry. Shaking his head he let go of her hand to cup her face with both his hands. "Oh Y/n no. No I... I did not mean it like that. Forgive me." Seeing those blue eyes still sad looking he brushed away her tears with his thumbs. Taking a deep breath he scooted closer to her. "You said that you did not want to take away my chance of finding someone I love but the thing is I have already found the one I love." Feeling his heart hammer in his chest he looked into her eyes and gave a nervous smile. "It is you Y/n, I love you. You are not trapping me, I am not stuck with you and if I am well then I am perfectly happy with it." Huffing out he felt his own insecurities taking over. "If anything it is I who needs to apologize for trapping yo..mmmm"

Shutting him up with a kiss you felt as more tears fell from your eyes but these were happy tears. He loved you. He said he loved you. Pulling away when you needed air you gave a large smile and laid your forehead on his. "I love you too Severus."

Smiling with all the happiness he felt he wrapped his arms around her in a hug, turning to kiss her head. He had someone that loved him. This beautiful, funny, kind, caring girl loved him and now she was all his and nothing was going to change that.

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

Siting next to Severus you giggled at Lily's grumbling about her upcoming O.W.L.S in Arithmancy "You're getting worried over nothing Lily, you know you are going to pass with flying colors."

Letting out a long sigh she looked to her friend and smiled. "Perhaps you are right Y/n." Glancing to the bandage still on her neck she tilted her head a bit, "So how are you feeling? That place on your neck sure is taking a while to heal. Didn't Madam Pomfrey give you any Dittany?"

Stiffening up at his best friend's observation he looked at his female through his curtain of hair and saw her hand move to the bandage covering his claiming mark.

"I am sure Severus could brew you a potion or even make you a salve to help...."

"No need. It's almost healed up I just don't want to chance my robes or hair rubbing it to irritate it."

Clever little liar she was. Still though he wondered what she would tell people when she finally removed the bandage covering the mark, the human bite mark. He had yet to get a chance to see it since the incident but he had planned on asking this weekend when they went for their date in Hogsmeade. Even though she might not approve he had managed to make some money off of Avery and Lestrange by brewing them some Polyjuice potion. While he didn't ask what they planned to use it for he had a feeling it wasn't going to be something good. Either way he was happy just to have some money to take his love out on an actual date.

Nodding to the female's response she perked up when she heard owls.

Seeing most of the students get their mail he thanked Lily when she handed him her newspaper to read while she read the letter from her parents no doubt. Wonder if Petunia was whining about Lily being a witch while she was only a normal muggle again? Seeing Y/n's owl, Sin land by her he grinned and stroked the birds chest. He was happy to say the male had warmed up to him rather quickly and if he was sitting with Y/n when he landed, which he normally was, then the bird was quick to lean forward so he could pet him.

Glancing to his dear he rose a brow at the sight of her lip bitten between her teeth as she read her own letter. That must be her parents responding to him claiming her. He couldn't lie the thought of them not liking him or even worst disapproving of him made him nervous to his core. As foolish as it was before all of this the thought of him one day meeting her parents hadn't crossed his mind. Now though he knew it would happen eventually and he found himself constantly trying to think of ways to impress them.

Reading over the letter you let out a breath you didn't know you had been holding. Ever since Dumbledore had come to visit you and told you he had written your parents you had been nervously awaiting their reply. While your parents were pretty laid back you still knew how they were about this particular subject. At least you knew they weren't disappointed in you, that they weren't bringing you home and that they were willing to give Sev a chance. Although your dad had written a few heavy handed sentences about the things he would do to the alpha you loved if he ever hurt 'his baby girl'. No all in all you knew your parents would absolutely adore Severus, your mom's words of at least he is a fellow Slytherin' making you grin. Finishing the letter you did as they instructed, placing the paper on the table you gave a flick of your hand and ignited the paper.

Starring at the paper he snapped his eyes to the omega beside him and looked at her in shock.

"Y/n... did you just..."

Humming you looked to Lily and then to Severus when you noticed him staring as well. "What? What did I do?"

"I... did not know you knew how to use wandless magic." he said in a low voice.

"Oh. Well yea but really only a few things... mostly elemental. It's nothing special really.... I'm sure the both of you can do it as well." you spoke quickly, wanting to play off your little show of power.

"Well I slowed myself down from falling when I was little... and made a flower grow faster."

Smiling you looked to her, "See I'm not that special.... Sev? you asked, looking to him but Lily spoke instead.

"He made a branch fall on my sister."

Scoffing he rolled his eyes, "Would you let that go already."

"You didn't even apologize."

"I was eight and she deserved it...stupid muggle.." he spoke, growling the last part under his breath.

"She is my sister and she isn't stupid."

Curling up as the two argued you looked down as Lily quickly grabbed her things and got up from the table before walking off. Noticing Severus's stiff shoulders and hearing his low growl you wrung your hands under the table. "I'm sorry, I didn't meant to..."

"Don't." he spoke, his voice still rough. Seeing her curl up more and feeling that sting in his chest he took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. He had read in that book that those sensations he got was their connection informing him of how his omega was feeling. It was taking time but slowly he was deciphering them and he knew that stinging was bad. Closing his eyes he grabbed her hand from under the table, bringing it to his lips to kiss her knuckles. "You did nothing wrong. Do not apologize." Watching those blue eyes look up to him in uncertainty he gave her a small grin. "I love you."

"Love you too."

Hearing the clock chime he took a deep breath and stood. "Come on, time for Defense class, do not forget that trick I taught you to remember the difference between the Iguana behaviors today on the test." Seeing her nod he threw both their bags over his shoulders, not wanting her bag to put strain on her healing mark.

Tag List: @once-upon-an-imagine @dope-shit-bro

#severus snape #severus snape x reader #alpha severus snape #alpha severus snape x omega reader #alpha beta omega #Alpha x Omega #Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics #alpha/beta/omega AU #claiming bites #harry potter fanfiction #snape fandom #angst #fluff

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whereisten · 4 years

Text

Fuchsia-Colored Sunglasses

Summary:

Your life is turned upside down when you’re transported into another reality by the enigmatic and mysterious old woman named Cyan. You find yourself an up-and-coming makeup artist whose latest client is the cocky fuchsia-haired rockstar Yuta Nakamoto. You struggle to find balance as Yuta is your most difficult client yet and you can’t seem to stop losing things in your apartment.

Meanwhile, Yuta is at the top of his game with his record-breaking band that’s about to tour and his perfect celebrity girlfriend. But he can’t shake the feeling that something is missing. When he meets you, however, he finally feels..at home.

In a reality where soulmates so rarely find each other, is it possible that the two of you will see the signs?

Pairing: Rockstar!Yuta x female reader

Genre: Soulmate AU, Fluff, comedy, a little smut, a tiny bit of angst

Word Count: 28.5K

Warnings: profanity, minor character death mention, alcohol mention

(A/N: we are so excited to finally post this for you guys!! It is for a collaborative project (A Colours AU) organized by the wonderful @neo-cult-ure . THANK YOU so much for inviting us to do this!! Please visit her tumblr for a complete list of all of the amazing works included in this project that we all worked so hard on❤️ with that being said, we hope you enjoy!! Thank you for supporting us!!)

[colours masterlist]: Click here to enjoy several amazing journeys :)

——————

It really hasn’t been your day. There was just one problem after the other being thrown at you at work. Books often went missing at the library, but today an entire section was missing romance novels and no one seemed to know where they had gone. So you spent hours collecting them from other sections in the library, placing them on your cart as you moved through each lane. It doesn’t sound like a lot of work but for a library with 16 floors, it was just enough to make your head spin. Your day was long and boring.

And now, you learned that your favorite cafe was fresh out of your usual drink, an iced caramel latte, the perfect drink for a pick me up.

fantastic.

A sigh left your lips as you turned around the corner of the bathroom and walked face first into someone.

smack!

You stumbled back and then felt something wet on your clothes. Great.

“I..I’m so sorry about that.” A lady’s voice caught you off guard as she quickly tried to clean up the situation. She reached forward and grabbed your hands. A bit weirded out by the situation, you tried to pull your hands away but she didn’t let go, pulling you in closer so she could look into your eyes and capture your full attention.

“Dear, don’t be frightened, my name is Cyan and I am so very sorry...” Her eyes had a mysterious glow about them that you couldn’t understand. She seemed...otherworldly.

“Let me make it up to you.” Cyan said. “Here, pick a colour and you’ll meet your soulmate. However, you should be aware that each colour represents a different reality, and you only have one chance to bring them back to this reality.”

“Really?” you asked, clearly suspicious of the entire situation.

“Yes, now which would you choose?” she asked as she held out the tablet for you to pick a colour. You tilted your head to the side before just agreeing.

You typically liked to lay low, keep things normal and safe for your sanity. And love? Soulmates? Those were concepts that you never really thought too hard about. If it comes, it comes but you weren’t going to go out of your way for it.

But today was unlike any other day, everything went wrong, so what if...you did things differently for once? What if you took the chance to experience something...new? You had nothing left to lose, right?

You reached forward to choose.

“Fuchsia.”

^_^

You sat at the kitchen table, your Bluetooth speaker playing your favorite song, “Breeze”. It was by the artist Mountain Man, whose identity was a mystery to the entire world. Your roommate Delilah came in to grab some orange juice from the fridge.

Delilah laughed. “I swear I dream of this song from all the times you play it.”

You replied, “This song is a religious experience. You should be so honored to dream of it.” You took a bite of your Fruity Pebbles.

Delilah joined you at the table as she searched something up on her laptop. “Today’s the bid for the Bulbasaur card I’ve had my eye on. I’m so nervous. I can’t go past eight five dollars so let’s hope my competition is just as cheap as I am.”

You rolled your eyes. “Eighty-five dollars for a trading card? Really?”

Deililah shook her head. “Sixty-five dollars for foundation, y/n? Really?”

You shut your mouth and keep eating your cereal. You and your roommate had your impulses...Well, your passions. Besides, an investment in good foundation only made sense given your profession as a makeup artist.

Delilah scrolled through her phone and frowned. “That’s weird. This looks just like your Hermosa Vida palette.”

That was impossible. You had the only one in existence. Last month, at the cosmetics brand launch for Hermosa Vida, you received a limited edition palette from two of your favorite makeup artists, Sol and Luna, who teamed up for their growing cosmetics empire. They gave you the limited edition trial of the palette before the official palette was released in stores. You were so excited to try it out but misplaced it two weeks ago. You knew you had to clean your room more often.

In fact, you’ve misplaced a lot of things recently: a pair of your favorite My Melody socks, a bracelet from your trip to Jamaica last summer, a pair of your reading glasses, and more. You knew people were bound to lose things but it seemed to happen more often to you. You didn’t think much of it as you were busy applying for your new job.

You stood behind Delilah so you could see the palette on sale for yourself. It was shaped like a clam shell and was rose gold. It even had Sol and Luna’s autographs on the bottom.

Just like yours.

You scanned the description of the product to find the username of the seller: 1026you.

“Wait, I thought I was the only one who owned this palette. It doesn’t make sense. If there was more than one of these palettes in existence, then there would be more on sale. But this one...looks exactly like mine,” you said.

“Maybe it’s a knockoff,” Delilah offered, “You know how people will fabricate anything to get extra cash.”

“The thing is...I lost my palette. It’s almost as if…”

Delilah scoffed. “You don’t think someone broke in and stole it?”

You considered it. “I don’t know, Delilah. I’ve been losing a lot of things lately...I think we should install some cameras in here. Just in case.”

Your roommate nodded. “Fine with me. It’ll make us both feel safer.”

So you and Delilah had cameras installed around the apartment. You hoped your first paycheck with your new gig would come in quickly. You contacted the seller and asked about the palette, asking where they’d bought it and how they had access to it. You asked so you could have some sort of proof that it couldn’t be the same as yours. But it looked exactly like yours. And it bothered you. Unfortunately, there was no response from the seller.

A few days after that, your Siamese cat Totoro disappeared. You weren’t too concerned as Totoro was an outdoor cat and he tended to wander. He would return soon, you thought.

^_^

Meanwhile across your hometown of Los Angeles, international rockstar Nakamoto Yuta stood in his bathroom, dumbfounded to find a portrait of a young woman looking over her shoulder.

Yuta said to himself. “Where the hell did this come from?”

His girlfriend Ashley called from the living room. “What’s that, babe?”

Yuta responded, “Nothing, Ash.” He’d rather not freak out his high-maintenance diva girlfriend.

It was strange how random objects kept popping up in his apartment. He asked Ashley about the palette but she denied it was hers. A bracelet appeared on his nightstand a few weeks ago and Ashley denied again, growing suspicious that Yuta was having someone over. But he didn’t owe any explanations to her.

Yuta always came up short with his security footage. There were glitches with the footage. The objects just...appeared from one frame to the next. This had to be some kind of joke.

Seeing a whole portrait pop up in his bathroom of all places was just part of his daily routine now. Guess I’ve got another thing I have to sell online, he thought.

Then again… He looked carefully at the painting. The woman in the painting was stunning. He wondered what her face looked like in reality. Gorgeous, he was sure of it. The woman wore an oval-shaped ruby necklace. The painting gave him both a sense of comfort and excitement. He couldn’t explain this clearly new but somehow familiar feeling. He decided to hold onto the painting for a while. He could always change his mind.

Ashley let out a blood-curdling scream. “Yuta! Get in here!” She sounded scared for her life. Could it have been the people who managed to break in and leave the painting among all of the other random objects? He ran into the living room to find Ashley standing on his plush couch.

“Is that...a cat?!” Ashley hissed as she looked down at a Siamese cat.

The cat watched her from the ground, swaying his tail back and forth. He simply watched her. When the cat saw Yuta, he walked up to him and rubbed himself against Yuta’s legs as he purred.

Yuta crouched down and pet the cat behind his ears. “Hey there, buddy. How did you get in here?”

“Yuta, you went and bought a cat when you know I’m allergic?” Ashley asked as she sneezed.

Yuta sighed. “I swear to you I have no idea how he got in here.” It was possible he ran in when Yuta opened the sliding glass door to his yard.

“Well...” Ashley sneezed as she grabbed her handbag and stormed out of the multimillion dollar mansion. “You better get rid of that thing if you ever want me to set foot into this house again!”

Ashley slammed the door and Yuta laughed as he sat down on the couch. The cat laid on his lap and pushed his head into Yuta’s hand so that he could pet him.. Yuta brushed his fingers through his fur.

“You know what, I think I’ll keep you.”

^_^

It was your first day of work with the world famous band Skylark. Sky High Entertainment reached out to you when they watched your most popular makeup tutorial. Now, you would be their makeup artist for their future engagements. Your first few weeks would be to assist the band in preparation for their first set of tour dates in Los Angeles for their Heaven on Earth World Tour. You were to meet the group and their team at the Staples Center. You weren’t too familiar with Skylar’s work because you were either fixated on the YouTube MUA community or repeatedly listening to Mountain Man’s music. You arrived early, too excited to start, and the band’s manager Baekhyun Byun told you that you were welcome to watch the group rehearse.

To say that the band was attractive was an understatement. You knew of their names and faces from the occasional Twitter posts. Plus, you had to memorize their names and faces for the job. However, seeing them in person was a whole other experience.

Drummer Johnny Suh’s muscular arms and intensity were reminiscent of Hercules as he twirled one of his drumsticks with ease. Mark Lee was the guitarist, looking like he was about to be cast for the next Spiderman with his sweet and goofy demeanor. He played a random guitar solo with his tongue out to get a reaction out of his cousin Johnny. Dong Sicheng was focused at the keyboard, looking as elegant and regal as a vampire prince. Bassist Jung Jaehyun’s every glance was more seductive than the last as he tuned his bass to perfection.

Last but not least was the frontman with the fuchsia colored mane: Yuta Nakamoto. His walk to the microphone at the center of the stage was unintentionally seductive, considering he was in a black hoodie and sweatpants like the rest of his band. He was at least six feet tall as his long strides made him walk with such grace and elegance. A man that was effortlessly gorgeous was definitely trouble. At this point, your jaw was on the ground. Every man on that stage was a god but Yuta was the frontman for a reason. He was undeniably the cutest of the group. In his all-black attire, he was the emo prince of millions of girl’s dreams: his slender face, his sharp cheekbones, his piercing brown eyes, a smile so bright it could make you go blind, his rockstar piercings which included a navel piercing and caused your thoughts to drift to places that weren’t suitable for the workplace…

From time to time, the band goofed off. Mark made a paper plane from the set list and threw it at Johnny. Jaehyun danced the latest TikTok dance while Sicheng filmed it with his phone. Yuta laughed as he borrowed the keyboard and wrote some notes down in his notebook.

When they got down to business, the boys completely transformed. They channeled angst and heartache when they began rehearsal. You recognized the song as their latest single: “Lost and Found”.

When Yuta sang, goosebumps ran down your back and your stomach twisted. Alarms were ringing in your head but they weren’t out of fear. But out of...excitement? You couldn’t describe this strange sensation.

Yuta transformed into a man who was heartbroken and confused. His voice danced into your ears and hearing it live made the lyrics more meaningful. Every word that left his plump lips lingered in the air. You couldn't get enough and felt your heart squeeze.

Yuta looked out to the audience as he always practiced how he would engage with the crowd. He earned several thumbs up from the staff, as expected. Then he turned to your section and could barely make you out as a silhouette in the darkness.

You saw that he focused on your section as he sang the second verse. Your heart skipped a beat. You’d have to listen to more of Skylark’s music from now on because they were fantastic. And maybe lurk on Yuta’s social media.

After rehearsal ended, Manager Byun introduced you to the rest of the team, including the other makeup artists. He walked you to the dressing room to introduce you to the band. For the first time in years, you were about to freak out like a fangirl.

“Boys, this is y/n. She’s our newest makeup artist. Please, I beg of you, don’t make her run for the hills.” Manager Byun laughed. You hoped he was joking.

The boys greeted you and shook your hand. Johnny was the most outgoing. “Pleasure to meet you, y/n!”

Jaehyun winked at you as he shook your hand. “Hi.”

Winwin gave you a childlike smile. “Thank you for joining us!”

Mark stuttered as he greeted you, “Uh, hi, it’s uh, really nice to meet you.” His cheeks were flushed.

You were overjoyed but knew you had to conceal your excitement. Still, you couldn’t help but hope for Yuta to greet you.

You all turned to Yuta who was busily texting away on his phone in front of his mirror.

Johnny cleared his throat. “Yuta, say hi to y/n.”

Then, you noticed he was wearing his AirPods. Johnny tapped him on the shoulder. Yuta looked up at him. “What? I was on the verge of a breakthrough, and now I won’t get it back. Thanks a lot.” Yuta rolled his eyes and looked back at his phone.

Johnny cleared his throat and you could see his smile twitch from his reflection in the mirror. “Say hi to y/n. She’s our new makeup artist,” Johnny said carefully. He sounded a lot less sweet, then.

Yuta sighed. “Fine.”

He got up from his makeup chair and walked up to you. His sour demeanor quickly shifted to bright and breezy. His megawatt smile appeared as he shook hands with you. “Hi, y/n. Pleasure to meet you.”

It was insincere and you knew it. You didn’t even bother faking a smile. “Pleasure’s all mine.”

It was the smile you’d seen all too often with celebrities and YouTubers whose egos grew faster than their subscriber count. It was the kind of smile they used to please sponsors and fans. A means to an end.

Yuta’s smile faded as quickly as it appeared. He quickly turned away and went back to his chair, put his AirPods in, and returned to his phone. You spoke too soon when you thought Yuta was your favorite member.

Mark whispered, “Don’t take it personally, y/n. Yuta is in his own little world most of the time.”

You weren’t surprised. Chances were one of these boys wasn’t what they seemed. You were disappointed it was Yuta, though.

For the most part, your first day went well. Everyone was warm and welcoming. You shared tips with the other makeup artists. But then, they dropped a bomb.

“You’re assigned to Yuta,” Manager Byun told you as you headed down the elevator. You just came back from a break.

You couldn’t control your initial facial expression.

Manager Byun laughed. “He won’t bite.”

You composed yourself. “Oh, I know…”

He understood. “He’s been working on a lot of projects. Some of which I don’t even know the full details of. So I apologize on his behalf for his rudeness.”

You shook your head. “But Manager Byun-”

He raised his hand. “Please, call me Baekhyun. Manager Byun makes me sound like I’m a father of three.”

You laughed. “Okay. Baekhyun, you don’t have to apologize for him. I get it. He’s a workaholic. I’ll gladly be his makeup artist.” It wasn’t like Yuta insulted you. He just wasn’t what you hoped he would be. Plus, you were there for a job and nothing else. So professionalism was always key.

Baekhyun put his hand on your shoulder. “Thank you, y/n. If he gives you trouble at all, the makeup team will make sure Yuta gets the wrong shade of foundation.”

You and the rest of the makeup team headed back to the dressing room where the boys were sitting in their chairs. They needed to get their makeup done for the filming of their tour diaries entry for this week. Yuta was still glued to technology. This time, he was on his laptop, and he was in the middle of producing a track, it seemed.

You gulped and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, Mr. Naka-” You began.

“Yuta’s fine,” he barked back.

“I have to do your makeup,” you said as you started off with his primer.

“Fine,” he said as he closed his eyes, “Make it quick.”

His tone was even crabbier than this morning. You told yourself to keep it together. You wouldn’t let this diva jeopardize your job. He was a challenge and you would overcome this bastard.

Because Yuta was quiet and as still as a statue, doing his makeup wasn’t a problem. You made sure you were swift but neat. You didn’t want to poke the tiger again. All that was left was his eyeliner. You gave him an elegant winged eyeliner for his left eye. You were halfway done with his right eye when he interrupted.

His voice boomed. “Seriously, what part of ‘quick’ don’t you understand?”

He startled you so much that his liner shot straight up to the middle of his forehead.

You bit back your anger and your tears. You said calmly, “I was almost done, Yuta. If you hadn’t startled me for ten more seconds, I would’ve finished.”

Yuta looked in the mirror, his venomous tone matching the anger in his face. “You clearly lack experience if you let one thing I said get to you. Well? Don’t just stand there. Fix it.”

The rest of the staff and the band stood there, stunned to silence. You swallowed your pride and redid the liner on his right eye. He said nothing when you finished. He left the dressing room first.

You turned to everyone else, feeling humiliated and fearing what everyone would say. “Why is it so quiet?”

“Because you didn’t run for the hills,” Sicheng replied, smiling at you in admiration.

“Huh?” That wasn’t the reaction you’d expected.

Rin, your fellow makeup artist who was working on Jaehyun right beside you, said, “The last makeup artist Lily only lasted a week. Yuta’s been…”

“A stuck up bitch,” Jaehyun finished.

Rin sighed, “His words. Not mine. Before Lily, there was Halle. Halle was Yuta’s makeup artist for three years before she left for another project. Even before Halle left, Yuta was in a mood. No one knows what’s bothering him. He’s not usually-”

“A diva,” Mark added.

Rin applied some setting spray on Jaehyun’s face. “Once again, not my words.”

You worried if you crossed a line by talking back at him like you had. “Was I not supposed to say anything to him when he yelled?”

Everyone laughed. Johnny said, “Are you kidding? We dare you to tell him to stop bitching if he snaps again.”

You thought about it. “I just hope he gets over whatever he’s going through.”

^_^

Days passed and the sixth day of work went just about the same. You were in your element and over the moon with all of the high-end cosmetics at your disposal. Not even your sourpuss of a client could dampen your mood.

During one of your breaks, you sat alone in one of the unoccupied meeting rooms and listened to “Breeze” on your phone as you read some of your emails.

“The breeze made your hair sway. I fell in love that autumn day,” you sang aloud.

Yuta was headed to a meeting with Cartier but at the sound of your voice singing “Breeze”, he froze in his tracks. He pressed his ear against the door of the room you were in. The cracks in your voice were endearing. He smiled to himself.

He peaked through the window and hoped you didn’t notice him. You were seated at the table. Your legs were propped against one of the other swivel chairs. You tapped your fingers against the table. You smiled as you sang. Your smile was lovely. Your eyes were so full of joy and passion as you recited the lyrics, and for the first time, he actually looked at you and took in your features. Your singing voice wasn’t as calm and soothing as your speaking voice, but he still enjoyed hearing you. For the first time in a long time, he felt..something.

Seeing you smile that way made you the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, he realized.

He couldn’t believe how much you loved his song. “Breeze” wasn’t doing as well as he hoped. The company CEO thought about scrapping his anonymous side project all together. He didn’t understand. Had he released the song with Skylark or under his own name would “Breeze” have charted better? It pissed him off. He was so proud of his composition. It was the first time he let himself be so raw and vulnerable. Because he wanted this project to be anonymous, he chose not to tell his bandmates or anyone else, really. The couple of staff members who did know were sworn to secrecy. It killed him that he couldn’t vent to anyone.

When the song ended, you said to yourself, “Oh, let’s just play this on a loop.” You played “Breeze” again and stretched your arms.

Seeing you love the song as much as he did made the dark cloud that loomed over his head fade a little. Perhaps he had been too harsh on you, he thought.

^_^

A few more days pass and you and Yuta seem to be getting closer. He’d actually put his phone down when you did his makeup, watching you as you patted his foundation in. For you, it was strange, but for Yuta he was mesmerized.

“I’m bored..let’s play 20 questions.” Yuta said as you spritzed his face with primer water one day.

“Uhhh..okay.” Your brows furrowed.

“Favorite movie, go.” Yuta asked before closing his eyes.

“Uhhh. Titanic?”

“Ew. Okay favorite group?” He smirked.

“Well..it’s not Skylark..” You huffed.

Yuta took in a sharp breath and held your wrist to stop you. “It’s NOT Skylark? Then who is it, who is worthy?” His eyes were intense, like you hurt him deeply.

“Hmmm...One Direction.” You were just messing with him, but you wanted to see his reaction.

He rolled his eyes and let go, leaning back in his chair and rolling his neck. “You can’t be serious...”

“What? They make good music! And isn't it my turn to ask questions now?”

“Shoot.” Yuta closed his eyes so you could do his eye shadow.

“Hmmm..what’s your favorite color?” You started.

“The color of your eyes...”

You froze for a moment, but then chuckled. “Yuta..seriously?”

Yuta’s eyes opened as he laughed. “I’m serious! They’re beautiful.”

You pouted. “I’m done playing this game if you’re gonna mess with me.”

“Are you going to ruin my eyeliner again because you don’t like my compliment?” He let out in a faux British accent and high pitched tone to mimic the queen. You couldn’t help but laugh and shake your head.

Yuta smiles widely when he hears your angelic laugh, your eyes crinkling and your cheeks becoming so round and full.

What was this new feeling that he had?

^_^

You’d be working with Skylark for a month now and you were enjoying your time with the team. However, it was pouring for the first time in a month in LA. While you would’ve been happy about it in any other circumstance, you were annoyed and on the verge of freaking out. Your second bus was running late to take you to the arena. You decided not to wait for the bus and make a run for it.

Your umbrella was helpful to a certain extent but you were drenched regardless. The rain continued to pour unforgivingly. When you were preparing to cross the street, a black Mercedes pulled up beside you. The passenger window came down and you recognized Yuta.

He was sitting there, looking amazing as usual. Only this time, his long, neon pink hair was thrown into a bun and he modeled a pair of heart-shaped, fuchsia colored sunglasses to match.

The way he held the wheel with one hand made your heart shudder for some reason.

“Get in!” He said.

You hesitated for a second. However, dryer clothes outweighed your pride at this moment. You hopped in, closed your umbrella, and shut the door.

Yuta grabbed your umbrella and put it in the backseat. “You’re soaked. I’m going to turn up the heat on your seat.”

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

Yuta drove you to work. He was surprised he could recognize you through the pouring rain. He had this inexplicable anxiety when he was at the red light before he saw you. He couldn’t explain it. He was doing okay for the most part. His last song for his first self-titled mini album was almost complete. Ashley was a pain but their respective managers were working towards a day when they could announce their breakup. His band was at the top of their game. His new cat was keeping Ashley away.

So what was this feeling that came out of nowhere?

And how did the feeling disappear just as quickly when you looked him in the eyes?

“Thanks for the ride,” you piped up.

Yuta cleared his throat, feeling shy all of a sudden. Very unlike him. “We’re both headed the same way.” That was Yuta’s attempt at sounding cool. He didn’t realize it could make him sound like a tool, you thought.

There was an awkward silence that suffocated you both. The traffic was unbearable so it looked like you would both be late for work.

Yuta blurted, “I don’t think I’ve said this before but...I’m sorry..”

You turned to him as he stared straight ahead. You were shocked that he was apologizing. You figured this man never apologized for anything, especially when he carried on with you at work like he hadn’t snapped at you on your first day. “Are you?”

He sighed as he slowed down. “Yes. I was a jerk and you were just doing your job. I really have no excuse.”

You replied, “Well, as long as you’re aware. Do you promise to keep the sass to a minimum? Or at least until after I’m done with your makeup?”

Yuta nodded. “Yes, I promise.”

You noted how down Yuta looked. Beneath the hostility and sarcasm, there was frustration and sadness. “I forgive you.”

Yuta smiled. “Thank you.”

Another awkward silence followed. And the rain poured down even harder so Yuta drove even slower. He turned up the radio and you both recognized “Breeze”.

You both sat back and listened to the song in silence. Without you realizing, Yuta snuck glances at you as you hummed and bobbed your head to the beat of the song.

“I love this song,” you blurted.

Yuta smirked. “Yeah, it’s great, isn’t it?”

“I would give anything to meet Mountain Man. His music is unlike anything I’ve ever heard. No one knows who he is. His identity is top secret,” you sulk.

Yuta beamed with pride that someone could be a fan of his mysterious persona. Without knowing his face or his true identity. It truly made him feel special.

Yuta bit back a laugh. “I know who he is, actually.” He wondered if he would regret telling you this.

You looked at him in shock. “What?”

“I can introduce him to you if you’d like but you have to promise me one thing.” Yuta was elated to see you so thrilled.

“Wait, really?!” You exclaimed as you unconsciously moved closer to him. “You’re not messing with me, are you?”

Yuta shook his head as he finally turned into the arena parking lot. “When we break for lunch, I’ll take you to him. I’ll call him over.” You gaped. “Oh, you don’t have to. He must be so busy. He doesn’t have time to meet me. I-”

Yuta felt a flash of jealousy over your consideration for someone whose face you didn’t even know (even if it was his other persona). “He won’t mind, I promise. Now promise me one thing when I introduce you.”

“What is it?” You asked cautiously.

Yuta put his car in park. “Promise me you’re free tonight. I need to go over some looks for my concept photos next week. I know it’s after work but I’ll buy dinner.”

Yuta did a full 180 on his personality. You were still recovering from the whiplash. And now he was doing you favors and confiding in you? You were on the fence but if you could meet Mountain Man, surely it would be worth it.

^_^

When it was lunch time, Yuta took you to the conference room. “Take a seat, y/n. Mountain Man just texted me. I’ll bring him in.”

You sat down in your unofficial swivel chair and fought the urge to pick at your nails. You were so nervous. To be in the presence of such talent. To be in the presence of the man who touched your heart with a three minute and fifty five second song. You had no idea what to expect.

Yuta came back quickly. With no one. He looked at you expectantly.

You got up to check if anyone was behind Yuta. “Uh, Yuta?”

“Uh huh?” He asked.

“Where’s Mountain Man?” You frowned.

He threw his arms up. “You’re looking at him.”

You got up from your chair and wrapped your arms around your chest in frustration. “Come on.”

Yuta was shocked at your reaction. “You don’t believe me?”

You shook your head. How can such a high-profile celebrity be an anonymous artist?

Yuta rolled his eyes. “Wow, you’re really making a guy work here, aren’t you?”

“I don’t get it. Why wouldn’t you just release your music with Skylark or under your real name? Why the anonymity?” You asked as you went back to your chair and collected your belongings to leave.

“Wait, don’t go,” Yuta pleaded, “I can prove it.”

He offered his notebook to you with lyrics that dated back two years.

“This is your lyric book?” You asked.

Yuta nodded as you flipped through the pages. “Songs I’ve written for Skylark. Songs I’ve written for my solo mini. And songs I’ve written for Mountain Man.”

You sat down and carefully absorbed all of the contests inside. You went to the first pages of the notebook and found the early drafts of “Breeze”, which dated back to a year ago. And right after those lyrics, there were the lyrics for Skylark’s Grammy-nominated song, “Hope and Flame”.

You looked up at him. “You…”

“Yeah,” he said as he put his hands in his pockets. “If you’re not convinced, I’ll take you to the studio and show you how I’ve used a voice modifier. Plus, you’re looking at lyrics of songs that won’t be released until next year. So if you’re willing to wait until then to see your proof, well…”

Well, he hoped those songs would be released next year. He prayed you would believe him.

You choked. “I...believe you.”

Yuta exclaimed. “Really?”

Yuta was acting very childlike today, you observed. You thought it was kind of cute. He may have dropped one of the biggest secrets in the industry but he was still your moody client.

“I can’t believe…you’re Mountain Man…”

Yuta sat down beside you. “You owe me.”

“After you introduced me to...you?” You laughed in disbelief.

He nodded. “You said you would give anything to meet me.” He was smug as he gave you a knowing look.

You scoffed. “I didn’t think you’d use it against me.”

He replied as he leaned back on the chair. “I’m not. I just thought I might impress you.”

“And why would you want to do that?” You teased.

He leaned closer and shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure. I guess I just wanted to.”

You blushed at his proximity and quickly turned away. “There you go again with the teasing.”

Yuta smiled wide. “So what do you want for dinner? Pizza or Chinese?”

^_^

You helped Yuta explore a few looks for his upcoming photoshoot before dinner that night.

You were adding some final touches to his heart-shaped lips. “Your lips are so pretty,” you said without realizing.

Yuta knew to hold still but his eyes opened at hearing you say that. You were so caught up in making up his face that you didn’t realize you were thinking out loud. Yuta chose not to bother you. He owed you that much.

“Okay, I’m done,” you said, “I gave you a more understated look. More neutral tones in your eyeshadow and highlighter. And I chose a brighter shade of pink for your lips. I get more of a romantic vibe from this look,” you said as you looked at his reflection in the makeup mirror.

Yuta looked straight at you. “I love it.” He was impressed with your careful attention to detail and how natural you made his makeup look. Out of all the makeup artists and stylists he’d worked with, you were the most attentive and cooperative. You always surpassed his vision for his look. You asked him for his opinions in case you needed to change anything. Most of the time, though, he was very satisfied with your work on the first go. You were the best makeup artist he’d worked with, he had to admit.

“You don’t want more eyeliner? What were you thinking with your piercings?” You asked.

He shook his head. “It’s perfect, y/n. Every look you showed me is perfect for the shoot. I just need you to be by my side when it starts. No one else touches this face but you.” Yuta explained with no trace of mockery in his voice.

Yuta was so open with you all of a sudden and all you did was breathe. How was that possible? And you felt a little more intimidated now that you knew that Yuta was behind your favorite artist. You remembered that first and foremost you were his makeup artist so you shoved your confused feelings aside. You would panic when you got home.

Blushing and still processing, you said, “Thank.”

“You?” He finished for you.

You blushed even harder. “Yeah.”

He laughed as you tried to compose yourself.

You removed his makeup so his skin could get a break. “What’s next?”

Yuta sighed. “We’re done, y/n. Let’s order something and I’ll drive you home. It’s late.”

You cleaned up your supplies while Yuta ordered pizza. You both liked extra Mozzarella cheese on top.

“So,” you said, “Can I ask you something?” You’ve been dying to ask him questions for hours but you’ve done so well to hold it in. You figured you’d indulge by asking at least one.

“Yeah?” Yuta sat up straight.

“Did you compose all of Mountain Man’s releases?”

He nodded.

“What instruments do you play?” You dared to ask one more question.

“Guitar, piano, drums, violin,” he said as he got up and grabbed his guitar from his case. “Thanks for reminding me. I have a melody stuck in my head, and I want to see if I can make something out of it.”

Yuta tuned his guitar and hummed to himself. He played a few chords.

“Whoa,” you said. “Just like that?”

He chuckled in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You can make something so incredible and unique in an instant?” You asked, clearly in awe.

He shook his head. “I could only get to this point because I practiced every single day in grade school.”

You heard how lonely he sounded, then. “That must have been…”

“A pain in my ass, yeah. I gave up many trips to Chuck E. Cheese just so I could master the piano,” he grumbled.

“And you never gave up on practicing?” You asked, impressed. Had it been you you would’ve given up and found the next hobby.

“My parents pushed me hard from a young age,” he started, “They wanted me to become a world classical musician. Family honor and all.”

“What changed, though? Skylark isn’t exactly classical,” you observed.

Yuta replied, “I didn’t tell my parents but I started a rock band when I was sixteen. Johnny and Jaehyun have been by my side from the very beginning. We rehearsed in Johnny’s garage until we graduated.”

You grinned, just thinking about teenage Yuta rebelling against his family’s wishes. “That’s sweet.”

He laughed. “Yeah, Johnny and Jaehyun claimed they joined to meet girls but I knew they loved music just as much as I did. Johnny’s cousin Mark and Mark’s best friend Sicheng joined us a few months later and we were a force of nature. That was our first band name, by the way.”

You bit back a laugh. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Force of Nature,” Yuta replied, deadpan. “What’s so funny, y/n?”

You laughed, almost falling over in your seat. “That is so cute. You guys thought you were being edgy.”

Yuta grabbed a throw pillow and threw it at you. “I won’t tolerate mockery from the staff.”

You gasped. “I won’t tolerate a DICKtator.” You grabbed another pillow and threw it at him.

You both laughed so hard. Yuta grabbed an eyeliner pencil you forgot to pack up.

“You know, y/n,” Yuta started as he moved closer to you. “You’re alright.” He took your hand and slipped the eyeliner into it.

“You, too, Nakamoto,” you said, “You’re still paying for the pizza, though.”

Time passed as you two talked about your childhoods, your hobbies, and all about Skylark and Mountain Man.

“Man, what I wouldn’t give to go back in time and learn the guitar,” you said as Yuta mindlessly strummed his guitar and produced heavenly melodies.

Yuta innocently offered, “I can teach you.”

You raised your eyebrows. “In exchange for?”

He laughed warmly. “Nothing. Come over here and sit down.” He patted the seat next to him on the couch so you could join him.

You sat down and he placed his acoustic guitar over you. He moved closer to you, moving his arms over you. You could feel his chest against your back. He radiated warmth and your throat almost went dry.

Yuta took your left hand. “Now...you’re going to place your fingers up here. These are called the frets. I already tuned the guitar, okay?” His voice was very close to your ear and for a moment, you held your breath.

He took your right hand and placed it on the body of the guitar. “Let’s try an A chord.” His deep voice lowered even more and you felt your face heat up.

He took your left fingers and adjusted their positions. Never letting go of your hands, he instructed you to strum the guitar.

The chord sounded more beautiful than you’d expected it to be. “Whoa.”

“Nice,” Yuta said, “Then again, I did most of the work.”

You turned your head to him and his face was mere centimeters away from yours. “You are so-”

Yuta moved even closer. “Finish your sentence, y/n. I’m dying to hear what you have to say.”

You retreated. “Irritating.”

Yuta’s phone rang. The pizza arrived and you two fought over the last slice. He was ridiculous, considering he ate four slices to your three. It was only fair you’d eat the last slice. Yuta got creative and used a plastic knife to cut the last slice in half. You accepted but you were determined to get your revenge.

Yuta drove you home. The night was calm, and the traffic was light.

“You live pretty far if you’re walking to the arena for work, y/n,” Yuta said as he pulled up in front of your building.

“I take two buses. Normally, it’s not a problem. It was complicated today because of the rain,” you said.

“Yeah, I thought we were going to get a massive flood,” he said, “It’s very unlike LA.”

You nodded as you took off your seatbelt. “Well, thanks for the ride.”

Yuta smiled and tipped his imaginary hat. “Thank you for your help tonight.” His smile was at its most radiant, then.

^_^

You wake up the next morning thankful for the weekend but a little sad that…Wait a minute.

You didn’t miss Yuta, you told yourself. The boy gave you whiplash and you were only beginning to get to know him. You had time to do some cleaning around the apartment. Maybe you could find a lot of your missing stuff so you could put that eBay account out of your mind.

It was already 2 PM and you couldn’t find the palette, your primary concern. You sighed. You looked around your spotless room and found some solace in the fact that it was clean and organized. Tidying up was its own therapy.

You called your mom and asked her about her day. You went through your jewelry box.

Your mom chattered on, excited like a schoolgirl, “Anyways y/n, Fred wanted to take me to a costume party tonight so I wanted to know...Do you think the black flapper dress would be better than the mod dress?” Fred was her serious boyfriend of three years. You had a feeling that he would propose anytime now and you were happy for them.

That good feeling quickly dissipated. “Oh, no.” Your most prized possession was missing. You knew it was missing because you always kept it in your jewelry box.

“y/n? Honey, are you okay?” Your mom asked over the line.

You couldn’t tell your mom that your grandmother’s ruby necklace was missing. “Yeah, sorry mom, it’s nothing. I got a little dramatic. Ran out of whipped cream for my sundae.” You lied.

You finished your conversation with your mom. You had no choice but to log onto eBay again. You searched 1026you and your suspicions were confirmed.

Your grandmother’s one-of-a-kind family heirloom was for sale. For one hundred dollars. It was a priceless heirloom that was worth at least ten times as much. You clenched your fists. “Son of a bitch.”

You messaged the seller again but knew he would never answer you. He’s ignored your other messages so what made you think he would respond to this one? You read through the site’s terms and conditions and there was no way to contest that the item was yours. You noticed that the item was up for bid and the bid would end in…

Ten minutes.

The current bid was at $100.

You scoffed. “Why the hell do I have to bid on an item that’s mine?”

You swallowed your pride and prayed that no one else would bid higher.

You placed a bid for $101.

Right away, someone else bid higher. $102.

This went on and on until your competition outbid you and won the necklace for $127.

“Son of a bitch!” You cursed again.

You sent 1026you ten consecutive messages telling them that they stole your necklace and begged them to respond as soon as possible. You knew it was hopeless.

^_^

You knocked on Yangyang’s door. He lived a few doors down from you and Delilah. You used to babysit him when you were in high school and college. Yangyang was a child prodigy, having graduated from MIT with a master’s in computer science at age sixteen. His parents still needed you to babysit when he was acing Physics at age ten. He always insisted he didn’t need a babysitter but you two developed a bond. It was to both of your surprise that he became your neighbor. He had a side hustle as a hacker. You hoped he could help you track down 1026you so you can give him a piece of your mind.

He opened the door. “y/n, what’s up?” He smiled wide. He still had that boyish wonder in his eyes.

“Hey, I hope I’m not interrupting,” you started.

“Not at all, come in,” he moved to the side so you could walk into his messy apartment. Video games were scattered all over his living room floor. He was in the middle of eating a bowl of ramen.

“Yangyang, I know I’ve been relieved from my babysitting duties for a while now but...ramen is not a proper meal,” you said.

“Shut up.” Yangyang laughed. “I’ll grill some meat later. Don’t worry.”

You laughed as you sat at his kitchen table. He gave you a can of Pepsi, knowing it was your favorite. “I need a favor, actually.”

Yangyang rejoiced. “At long last, you need my help. Never thought the day would come. You never let me help you with precalculus, even though you definitely needed it.”

Ignoring his roast for once, you responded, “Well...I need your hacking expertise. I know that this is going to sound crazy but...someone has been stealing things from my apartment and selling them online.”

Yangyang’s smile faded. “What the hell? So that’s why you installed security cameras at your place.”

“I didn’t get into it because I thought I was crazy but my grandmother’s necklace is missing and it’s one of a kind. And now…” You showed him the item that was sold.

“That’s your necklace,” Yangyang replied in shock. He recognized it from having known you for so long. You wore it on rare occasions like birthday parties. You preferred not to be photographed with it because you wanted to preserve it and keep it secret from strangers and acquaintances. You never knew who you could trust.

“Can you help me track down the seller?”

“y/n, that goes against eBay’s terms and conditions,” he replied.

You sighed. “I know but-”

Yangyang chuckled mischievously. “This should be fun.”

Yangyang worked magic on his computer to track down 1026you’s location. He was in Los Angeles, to your surprise. “Can’t get you the seller’s name but will an address do?”

“It’s perfect,” you said.

^_^

Yuta woke up from a nap on the couch. Totoro was sleeping on his stomach. He chuckled as he pet him. Yuta’s phone rang, indicating a notification. He checked his phone and saw that the ruby necklace he put on sale was sold to the highest bidder at the deadline. He also saw a bunch of messages from one account claiming he stole the necklace and he’d better respond to her.

“Crazy,” Yuta said as he ignored the messages.

^_^

“What do you think I should use for today’s luxurious bath, Totoro? The ‘Cotton Candy’ bath bomb or the ‘Madly In Love’ bath bomb?” Yuta carefully picked Totoro up from his lap and placed him on the cold marble floor before standing up and stretching.

Totoro let out a loud “meow” and walked away from Yuta.

“I completely agree.”

Yuta threw his shirt off and headed to his bathroom, but he jumped once he opened the door. He had completely forgotten about the beautiful portrait that leaned against the counter. He stopped and tilted his head, really taking in the depth of color in the painting. He gazed at the stunning profile of the woman and the necklace she had on. He couldn’t understand how he had this undying urge to remember a memory he never had, to remember the moment he met this strange woman from the portrait.

He shook his head and started to run water for his bath, oblivious to the eyes that watched him through the small opening of the door.

^_^

You watched a shirtless Yuta stare at something for a few seconds. You couldn’t see what it was, but you really didn’t care, for Yuta’s abs were the real star of the show. Your mouth fell open, your heart started to race. Yuta was perfect in every way, and the twinkling piercing in his navel was the cherry on top.

But...wait.

You had to remember why you were here. Yangyang’s research found that this was the address of the person that was selling your precious necklace so you had to work fast. You already got lucky when you found a window in a first floor bedroom that was open.

You were shocked to see that it was Yuta’s house that you would have to break into, but once again, you just had to get your priceless possession.

Was Yuta messing with you? How could he do this and when could he do this? When would he have had time to sneak into your place and steal your necklace? Or was it his girlfriend?

Yuta shook his head before turning it to the side slightly. You jumped out of sight by moving to the side quickly. He interrupted your thoughts, but you had to get moving before he got out of the shower.

You looked around his enormous mansion, heading for what seemed to be his bedroom, for it was the biggest one at the top of the grand staircase.

Surely, there had to be an explanation for how your possession became his possession. Nonetheless, you were pissed that he decided to ignore your message and proceed to sell it. How could he steal something so meaningful to you then sell it? It’s not like he needed the money.

You looked on top of the California King-sized bed and then under it to see if you could just catch a glimpse of the shimmering ruby stone. But you found nothing. You then looked at his black dresser before stopping to gaze at his extensive earring collection. It was incredible.

A case full of hundreds if not thousands of earrings and jewelry stood beside the dresser. Your mouth fell open and your eyes widened. What if he stole jewelry? No-no, you shook your head at the absurd thought. This man had way too much money.

Then you heard him singing in the bathroom beside his bedroom. But his voice grew louder as he exited and entered the hallway to make his way to his room.

“Shit,” you whispered.

Your heart started to race. You're just moments from being caught so you look back to the dresser and spot it.

Your necklace.

It’s next to the small brown bag that it would have been sent in today, but you grabbed it just in the nick of time.

“BABAY!! Why DON’T YOU JUST MEET ME IN THE MIDDLEEE??” Yuta sang in the hallway and thanks to his boastful voice and the large ceilings that allowed for a beautiful echo, you heard him when he was just about to enter. You quickly dropped to the floor and rolled under the bed.

You covered your mouth to muffle your heavy breathing. He was pacing about, walking to and from his closet.

“Nah, don’t like this…” he threw a flannel onto the bed. He went into his closet and grabbed a black T-shirt, the 56th black T-shirt in his collection, to be exact.

“Nice.” Yuta continued to hum while spritzing on some cologne.

Yuta smelled amazing, like vanilla and roses, but you couldn’t help but be worried that you would be late for work if you couldn’t get out of his house right NOW.

“Hey, babe..” You heard a female voice say. It was his girlfriend. “Damn it,” you mouthed. Ashley was known for being one of the most gorgeous celebrities alive today. She had the perfect face with a dazzling smile to match, but rumor had it that she was a complete bitch behind closed doors.

You heard Yuta sigh and you could almost feel his eye roll. He was thinking of how much he hated himself for ever giving her a key to his house.

“What’s up, Ash?” He spoke to her like he was being forced to communicate with an Uber driver.

“Oh, don’t sound so excited to see me…” Ashley responded. She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

Yuta was fixing his earrings onto his ears when she embraced him. He looked at her through the mirror in front of them and gave a look of annoyance when she tilted her head to lock eyes with him.

“So...where were you yesterday? You missed our dinner date at the Venetian...Do you know how much it cost me to lose that reservation AND call off the paps?”

“I’m sure you can afford it.” Yuta walked away from her and looked at the dresser with a puzzled expression. Something’s missing, he thought.

You watched Yuta’s footsteps as he hesitated for a moment, but then he continued on into his closet.

Your eyes grew. Did Yuta really blow off his date at the most expensive restaurant in the city to be with you? He ditched $1,000 caviar and steak just to eat $12 pizza with you?

“You really like making me beg, don’t you, Mr. Nakamoto?” Her voice lowered as she leaned against the dresser and watched Yuta put his socks on.

“Where were you, daddy?”

Yuta hesitated for a moment. He didn’t like the fact that she thought he had to report his movements to her. She acted like she had to know everything that went on in his life. She was overstepping and Yuta wasn’t about to fall for it.

So he decided to piss her off.

“I was with..the new girl.”

Ashley stood up straight and crossed her arms. You nearly yelped out under the bed and revealed yourself.

“Who’s the ‘new girl’?” Ashley asked and you could just hear the fire in her tone. Even Charizard would be jealous.

“The new makeup artist..she’s sweet, I bought us food and we talked.” Yuta smirked and walked closer to Ashley who didn’t even try to hide her jealousy. Her perfectly plucked brows furrowed.

“I taught her how to play the guitar...she’s lovely, really. We had a great time.” Yuta was definitely twisting the knife and you couldn’t tell if he spoke of you fondly just to piss her off, or if he genuinely meant it. Either way, his words filled your chest with butterflies, and a smile tugged at your lips.

“Yuta...baby, you missed our date at THE Venetian to spend it with some talentless random who probably has a failing Youtube channel?” Ashley pouted. “Let me show you what’s lovely, Mr. Nakamoto.”

Yuta was about to protest, but Ashley held his chin and tilted it down towards her before placing a kiss on his lips.

The sound echoed in the large room and made you roll your eyes. She insulted you without having met you? What a bitch, you thought. No wonder Yuta was miserable.

She then took his hand and led him to the bed, pushing his chest lightly so he’d sit on the soft surface. She dropped to her knees and ran her hands along his thighs.

Oh no...please don’t do what I think you’re about to do. You squeezed your eyes tightly and prayed that Yuta would tell her to wait until later.

Yuta huffed and puffed but indulged her, allowing her to have her way because he just couldn’t be bothered. She unbuckled his belt while looking into his low eyes.

“You’re stressed, baby, that’s why you spent time with a total stranger. But don’t forget you have me.” Ashley licked her lips before taking his pant zipper in between her teeth and dragging it down.

“I can’t wait to taste you, Mr. Nakamoto.” Ashley kissed his pelvis. She was too busy to see Yuta cringe at the name she called him. God, did it feel weird.

“Just...m-make it quick. I have to go.” Yuta licked his lips, letting his head fall back as he closed his eyes in anticipation.

Shit. You mouthed again. You were about to hear the most disturbing sounds of your life and there was nothing you could do, nowhere that you could go. Could you sneak out on the other side without them noticing? Shit shit shit shit.

Ashley sneezed before she could place her mouth on Yuta again.

Yuta looked down in annoyance.

She quickly swiped at her nose then retook her position.

She puckered her lips to lay a kiss on his growing bulge, but she sneezed again.

Several more sneezes followed and Yuta was getting frustrated. He slowly became turned off.

“Damn it, do you still have that ugly cat? I’m suffering here!” She yelled before laying out four back-to-back sneezes.

“So am I.. I gotta go, Ashley.” Yuta rolled his eyes and stood up. He brushed past her, where she still knelt on the floor, and walked towards the dresser.

“Make yourself useful and mail this-” Yuta’s sentence trailed when he didn't see the necklace. The brown envelope was there but the necklace was no longer beside it. “What the hell, I could’ve sworn...”

He looked into the brown bag then onto the floor and the rest of the dresser. Sure enough, the necklace was gone. “So it disappears just as quickly as it appeared? Shit.”

Your brows furrowed. What did he mean by “appeared?”

“Have you seen-?” Yuta was about to ask.

But suddenly, your phone started to vibrate in your back pocket. You quickly reached towards it to silence it so it would no longer make that grinding sound while shaking on the floor.

Luckily, Ashley was still sneezing so it covered up the sound..or so you thought.

“What was that?” Yuta turned and looked about the room for the source of the sound.

Ashley finally stood up and walked towards him. “I’ll just drive with you to work! We can finish what we started...” She gave him a wink before sniffling.

Yuta grimaced and grabbed his keys, brushing past her once again to head out the door.. “Whatever you say, Ash.”

Ashley practically skipped behind him. Finally, the room was empty. You swiftly dragged yourself from under the bed and stood up.

You heard them argue downstairs so you decided that you would climb out from the patio attached to Yuta’s room. Yangyang made sure to deactivate Yuta’s entire security system, including his cameras, so you could enter and leave without detection.

You took a deep breath before jumping from the porch and into the bushes below it. You tried not to scream as loudly as you wanted to. How you didn’t break your legs, you weren’t sure, but you were somehow able to leap back onto your feet and book it for the main road, sliding through the gate while Yuta and his girlfriend waited for the garage door to open so they could drive out.

By the time you got to work, you were covered in sweat, leaves, and dirt. You smelled and looked like you had been camping for at least 23 days in the Appalachian mountains, but it didn’t matter. You finally had your necklace.

“You good, y/n?” Manager Byun gave you a puzzled expression as you hurriedly took your tools out of your kit and placed them on the vanity for Yuta. You were somehow able to get there just minutes before him.

“I’m okay! Had a slightly...difficult time getting here, but I’m ready!” You gave him a smile so forced, you thought your face would be stuck like that forever.

He nodded slowly but still looked confused.

Just then, Yuta entered. His smile was bright and so beautiful. You melted like chocolate in his sunny smile when his eyes were glued to yours as he entered.

But your feelings of admiration soon dissipated when you saw his girlfriend behind him. She held up a compact mirror and was fixing her lipstick as she walked in.

I guess they did finish what they started...

Your smile fell. You didn’t know why you were sad and disappointed. It’s not like your one night with Yuta actually meant anything. He had a girlfriend, and not just any girlfriend. A celebrity girlfriend that was just listed as the person with the second most beautiful face in the world, behind Zendaya of course. Yuta was lucky, there’s no way he’d drop her for you.

You looked away as he walked over. He could feel a shift in your mood immediately. Your eyes were so big and bright when he entered and now you shifted your focus to organizing your makeup and covering a look of sadness that he could clearly see.

Yuta said ‘hi’ to everyone but stepped quickly over to you.

“Hey...y/n...it's nice to see you again.” Yuta gave you a half smile that really tugged at your heartstrings. How could he manage to make you so weak?

“Hey, Yuta.” You gave a short answer, and he could tell you were upset. You weren't nearly as cheerful as you were yesterday. Then..he noticed how disheveled you were.

His face became serious. He touched your arm and it felt like sparks dancing along your skin.

“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly while the other members and the manager went about their business.

You tried to avoid his magnetic gaze, but couldn't.

Your mouth opened as you looked into his eyes. “I’m-”

“Hi! Nice to meet you, are you the new makeup girl?” Ashley pushed herself in between you and Yuta and obnoxiously smiled in your face to push you further away from Yuta.

“Yes.” You pucker your lips and glance at Yuta who looked beyond annoyed.

“Well, you certainly don’t look like a makeup artist..” Ashley chuckled.

You scoffed. “What?”

“I mean, look at your nails.. Are you sure you want to touch my boyfriend's perfect face when you’ve got an entire ecosystem under your nail bed?” She grabbed your hand without warning and held it up for both you and Yuta to see the dirt that had gotten under your nails when you had jumped off of his patio and held on to the ground for support. You were running late so you didn’t get a chance to go to the restroom to clean up, but of course you would wash your hands before touching his face.

“I-” you started, but she interrupted you once again.

“That’s not very professional of you...”

“Ashley! Stop, don’t you have a photo shoot to get to?” Yuta took your hand from her and lowered it to your side, but he didn’t let it go. He stood beside you and looked onto Ashley with disappointment. Your heart became warm as he squeezed your hand to let you know that he had your back.

Ashley chuckled. “People come and go pretty fast here sweetie..let’s see how long you last.” She rolled her eyes before pushing herself in between the two of you, breaking off your linked hands in the process. How could someone so beautiful also be so ugly?

“I’m so sorry about her.” Yuta turned to you.

You nodded. “She’s right. It's very unprofessional of me to come to work like this.”

Yuta shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, y/n. Things happen..Let me show you where the shower is.”

^_^

Yuta led you to the locker room where the shower was. He handed you a tshirt and sweatpants that he had asked the manager to keep in a locker for him just in case he needed to change after sweating too much.

“Why are you dating someone so...mean?” You asked while you followed Yuta. You didn’t think twice about your question, and really, you had no right to ask him. He was just your client, not your friend.

Yuta chuckled. He turned to you and raised his eyebrows. “I smell some jealousy.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, she’s pretty or whatever, but trust me I am not jealous. I just don’t understand how you could be with someone like that..”

“I’m not a saint either, y/n..we’re perfect for each other..or at least our agencies think so.” Yuta paused. He wondered if he should let you in on yet another secret, but he didn’t notice that his eyes had trailed to your lips, adoring the way they formed a small pout.

You laughed. “You have a point, you weren’t exactly the nicest to me when I first started working for you...”

Yuta grinned when he saw your bright smile and your doe eyes as you laughed again. You were like a breath of fresh air, unlike anyone he’d ever seen. His spirit was instantly drawn to you, for you calmed him. You were just a stranger yet you felt like home.

“I’ll make it up to you...How about I teach you more about the guitar after the shoot?” He stepped closer, anxiously awaiting your approval like a boy that just asked his crush to prom.

You started to blush, his face was so close to yours, you had to look into his eyes.

You took in a sharp breath. “Are you sure your girlfriend will be okay with that? I don’t want you to stand her up again, she’ll probably stab me with an eyeliner pencil.”

“Again?” Yuta’s brows bunched together, but he still gave a teasing smile.

sHIT.

“O-oh i mean, surely you’ve stood her up at some point, right? She’s a total b-”

Yuta burst out into laughter.

You looked at him with worry on your face. “W-what did I do?”

“You’re adorable, but I just can’t take it anymore.” Yuta reached his hand out to the side of your face and gently removed a long vine that was tangled in your hair. He then removed a large, green leaf that stuck out of your disheveled do.

He calmed down. “There we go..much better. Even nature loves your beautiful face.”

Beautiful face.

Your heart began to race for the third time in one day. Too much was happening, you thought you would pass out. Did Yuta really just say that you were beautiful?

He cleared his throat when he realized that the words he was thinking actually came out while the two of you stood awkwardly in the locker room.

“Yuta?”

He smiled, just the sound of you saying his name made him weak for some reason, what was happening to him?

“What?”

“You’re staring..” you chuckled.

“I’m getting inspired.” he gazed at your eyes then your lips as he spoke in a softer tone.

“By what?” You tilted your head.

“By you.”

“Mountain Man, you really have a way with words, I bet you say that to all your groupies.” You rolled your eyes and brushed past him, walking towards the shower.

He spun around and grabbed your hand. Your breath hitched when you turned to look at him, his full lips parted and eyes begging for something.

“I...have to tell you something..”

He looked so serious for once.

“Ashley and I are in a fake relationship. It’s all a publicity stunt that our labels set up. I don’t love her...But I’m telling you because I feel like..I can really talk to you.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised, Yuta.” you gave a small smile. “I’m just your makeup artist, but if you want to talk to me, I don’t see why not. You’ve already told me two major secrets.”

Yuta laughed out at your response, a strand of his beautiful fuchsia hair falling into his forehead, making him look even more handsome than he did before.

He stepped closer.

“Wash up quickly, for me..the shoot starts soon.”

Yuta winked and walked away leaving you a blushing mess.

“Also, remember we have a guitar lesson later.”

For me.

Why did he have to say it like that? Wait, why were you even affected by that? Could your heart calm down when you were around him for more than five seconds?

^_^

You walked into the dressing room in your new comfy outfit and headed straight for your section. The sweatpants Yuta gave you didn’t have pockets, so you had to wear the necklace around your neck. You tucked it under your shirt to make sure that no one would see it on you.

“Wow, I wish I was wearing that instead of leather pants right now...” Johnny pouted when he saw you in Yuta’s Nike sweats.

“You look great! Always remember, beauty is pain,” you gave him a wink and continued to place your tools in order.

“You must be in pain all the time then, y/n.” Yuta exclaimed as he approached his seat.

Everyone in the dressing room let out ‘oooooo’s’ like primary school students.

You blushed but turned away quickly so he wouldn’t see. “Always teasing me, I swear one day you’re gonna pay.”

“Can’t wait for that day.” Yuta relaxed into the chair.

You leaned forward and started to place the concealer under his eyes with a small brush. You took your time and blended carefully, but felt your face become hot when you realized that he was staring at you intensely.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. You stepped back to laugh and shook your head.

“What’s wrong? Am I making you flustered?” Yuta smirked.

You rolled your eyes then leaned in towards his face. He suddenly sat up straighter, moving forward so that his lips would be just a few centimeters away from yours.

“Stop teasing me. We don’t have time.” You blushed once again and stepped back.

Yuta bit his lips and chuckled. “Oh, so demanding.”

You were doing his eyeliner when you tugged at the collar of the men’s shirt. It was choking you slightly because it was higher than a regular T-shirt. That’s when your necklace popped up and rested on top of the shirt instead of under it.

“Wait...where did you get that?” Yuta leaned back.

“What?” You narrowed your brow, for you didn’t understand why his demeanor became so serious.

“That necklace...”

Shit.

“Did you steal that..from me?”

Then it all clicked for Yuta. You were in his house. You eavesdropped on his and Ashley’s conversation. That’s how you knew that he stood her up the night before. And that’s why you came to work all sweaty and out of breath.

“What are you talking about?” You backed away from him, but he stood up quickly and snatched the necklace from your neck furiously. The sound of the chain breaking frightened you and you became just as furious. This bastard had no idea what he had just done.

“Yuta!”

Everyone turned to you two once your voice rose.

“What the hell are you doing? Give it back!” You demanded.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket as he examined the necklace, the shape and cut of the ruby stone and the unique gold chain that it hung on.

He compared the necklace to the picture he posted on his eBay account, and sure enough, it was the same necklace.

“You stole this from my house! You stole from me! I thought I could trust you! What are you, some crazy stalker?!”

“Wait, you’re user 1026you! You’re the crazy one! You stole from me so that you can sell MY jewelry online! You also stole my limited edition eyeshadow palette!” Your voices escalated and everyone else in the room became quiet.

“This crazy bitch! Why the hell would I steal from someone like you?” Yuta gave you a look of disgust and looked down on you like you were a poor dog. You really hated his guts now. He towered over you as he yelled, but you weren’t scared. You were just angry that he had the audacity to lie in front of everyone like this.

“I can’t steal something that was already mine!”

“It was never yours! It was in MY house, and I have the proof right here!” He held up his phone as Manager Byun walked over.

“What’s going on here?” The manager was both puzzled and surprised that you were in a yelling match with the member that no one dared to fight.

“This delusional girl that you decided to hire is a stalker! She broke into my house and stole my necklace.”

“YOUR necklace? You’ve really lost your mind! You stole it from me first.” You shouted back.

“Okay, okay everyone calm down. y/n.. Did you break into Yuta’s house?” the manager turned to you.

“No-I mean, yes, but only because he was going to sell it and it’s precious to me. He ignored my messages and blocked me on eBay before I could explain!”

“You broke into my client’s house?” Baekhyun gaped.

“She sure as hell did. Security!! She tricked me and got close to me just so she could steal from me and learn my secrets. How much were you gonna sell this for, huh? But the worst part is that I trusted you like a fool,” Yuta stepped forward as he spewed hateful and untrue words.

Your eyes started to water, you struggled to hold back tears. “Yuta, you know that’s not true. The necklace was never yours! It belonged to my grandmother and means so much to me.”

“Prove it.” Yuta was angry beyond words, he felt betrayed.

You struggled to think of any way to prove that it was yours. The security guards took your arms and placed them behind your back while pulling you away and out of the room.

The only thing that could prove that the necklace was yours would be the painting that your grandmother made of you when you wore the necklace. The painting that you just now realized had also gone missing.

“No! Don’t do this! I’m not a stalker.” You struggled to stay still as the guards dragged you out.

“She’s delusional! How could you hire someone like that? She put me in danger!” Yuta marched off to the bathroom so he could cool down.

“Yuta-wait. y/n...We will be pressing charges, I’m calling the police.” Manager Byun pulled out his phone.

^_^

A few hours passed and the news broke of what happened.

Crazy Stalker poses as Makeup Artist to Break into Yuta Nakamoto’s home!

BREAKING: MUGSHOT OF DELUSIONAL STALKER OF YUTA NAKAMOTO RELEASED

How did she pull off the perfect plan and is Yuta Nakamoto in danger?

You sat on the bench in your cold cell and wiped your eyes. Everything went bad so quickly. Yuta and basically the entire world thought you were a stalker and there was nothing you could do to prove your innocence. Yuta had the audacity to accuse you of stealing something that was never his to begin with.

And now, you could hear his fans chanting hurtful messages.

“She’s a crazy stalker, We will protect Yuta!”

“Yuta, we love you!”

“SHE DOESN’T DESERVE FREEDOM”

You were so confused, but the part that hurt the most was that your most prized possession was gone and probably in the air on some shipping company's airplane being delivered to some oblivious buyer.

What could you possibly do to make everything right at this point?

Yuta, on the other hand, was at home being coddled by his oh so caring girlfriend.

He laid down on his plush, velvet couch and pouted.

“It’s gonna be okay, Yuta. I swear we’ll get the best lawyers. She’ll never see another day outside!” Ashley got up from the couch and paced about.

“I knew I had a bad feeling about her.”

But Yuta disagreed. He never had a bad feeling about you. He thought you were sweet and kind, he thought everything about you was genuine especially when compared to the fakeness that surrounded him in his lifestyle. How could he have been fooled like this?

He told you two major secrets and now he’d probably have to drop the charges in exchange for your silence.

You really got to him because you seemed to be the biggest fan of Mountain Man, you seemed to appreciate his hard work, but now he didn’t think any of your praises were genuine. He couldn’t even go on social media. All the hashtags were ALWAYSHEREFORYUTA, WEWILLPROTECTYUTA, CRAZYSTALKER.

And they just reminded him of how weak he became.

“LOOK! TMZ just got her mugshot! I’m so happy they’re exposing this bitch, I hope they release her address and family information.”

Ashley smirked when she pulled up the picture of your mugshot on Yuta’s phone.

“Ashley...you need to leave...” Yuta sat up on the couch and looked at the floor. He couldn’t take anymore of Ashley’s annoying voice and he really wanted to be alone to relax and decompress after what happened.

“Oh, my poor little meow meow, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.” Ashley sat back down on the couch beside him and tried to take his jaw in her hands but he backed away.

“Not now, Ash..I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Ashley scoffed and slowly got up from the couch.

“Okay...let me know if you need anything.”

Yuta breathed a sigh of relief once he heard the front door close. He could hear tons of fans outside of his front gate cheering for him when she opened the door and it made him sick. He doesn’t feel proud. Because the truth is, the necklace wasn’t his. It just “appeared.” But here he was defending his possession of it and it didn’t feel right.

Yuta bit his lips then looked down at his phone which was still open with the article that included your mugshot.

He looked away at first, but then looked back down when something caught his eye. He looked more closely at the photo.

Your eyes.

He’d seen them before. Of course he had, but this time..they were different. They reminded him of something, someone.

The color of your cheeks and the depth of your beautiful eyes, the tone of your gorgeous soft skin and the curve of your lips. He had seen it before.

It took him a moment to realize.

The painting.

You were the woman in the painting that found itself in his bathroom. You were the same woman that wore a necklace just like the one he sold.

He looked over the messages you sent him on his seller account. It was like clockwork, every time something appeared in his house and he posted it online, you would message him about it to ask that he return it.

She was telling the truth. Yuta thinks to himself. He could punch himself right now. He was so rude to you for no reason. It was your stuff that kept popping up in his house and he didn’t understand why, but he knew that you were innocent. The painting was huge so it’s not like you placed it there by yourself to mess with him.

He threw on his jean jacket and headed out the door to go to the police station.

He had to fight through the screaming fans outside of the station that were waiting for a chance to attack you, the police officers gathering around him to move him through the hectic crowd.

Once inside, he went to the front desk and immediately told the officer that he wanted to drop all charges against you.

“You’re one lucky girl...” The officer said as she opened the gate of your cell.

“What?” You looked up at her questioningly and stood up from the wooden bench that had made your butt sore.

“He’s here for you..you know, the good looking rocker dude.” She unlocks your handcuffs and walks you out of the cell.

You’re relieved but can’t seem to smile, what’s going on?

Yuta was signing paperwork as you walked up to him.

“Yuta..you asshole.”

“That’s no way to speak to the man that just got your ass out.” Yuta looked up and sighed.

You scoffed. “You’re the one that put me in there! And I’m supposed to thank you?” You pushed past him and headed for the door. You started to walk down the stairs, but you were quickly stopped by the officers that stood out front.

“What the-“ you started when you saw the enormous crowd outside of the station. They were Yuta’s fans and paparazzi. They rapidly snapped so many pictures of you, you had to close your eyes and cover your face, the flashing lights being all too much for you. All you could hear were the thunderous ‘boo’s’ of Yuta’s fans.

Yuta was used to noise and flashing bright lights so he quickly came up behind you and turned you around. He held your head and pressed it onto his chest lightly.

You started to cry when you heard the names everyone was calling you over a simple misunderstanding. How could you be a ‘normal’ person after all this? All you wanted was your necklace and now you were overwhelmed by this new and unwelcoming spotlight.

“Shhh..don’t cry, it’ll be okay..I got you.” Yuta whispered into your ear as he patted your head softly.

You relaxed into him more, enjoying the comfort of his broad chest.

“Put your arms around my neck. Just trust me, okay?” Yuta’s soft tone made you shudder even though you still hated him.

But you did as he instructed.

He then picked up your legs and held you in his arms bridal style. The fans roared even louder but Yuta ignored them. He marched down the stairs towards his car while police blocked them from the two of you. He was able to lay you down on the backseat of his Range Rover before jumping into the front seat and speeding away from the madness.

Once the two of you were somewhat safe and far from the police station and his fans, Yuta exhaled.

He turned to look at you when he got to a red light. You were huddled up with your back facing him while you laid down on the surprisingly comfortable backseat. You had stopped crying, but you were still angry.

“Listen, I’m just as frustrated as you are. But we need to talk about this. What the hell is going on?” Yuta let out.

“I don’t know, maybe we should’ve talked before you had security take me away. Then all of this shit wouldn’t have happened. Oh and frustrated?” You scoffed.

“Did you just spend over 8 hours in a cold prison cell for stealing a necklace that belonged to you in the first place?!”

“You’re the one that broke into my house! Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I tried to message you but you insisted on being a jerk to make quick cash off of someone else’s belongings.”

You pulled your phone out of your pocket.

“Have you seen this shit? Your girlfriend just had a press conference and is calling for all makeup brands and agencies to swear to never hire me! I hate you, I can’t believe you put me in jail and essentially, ended my whole career!”

Yuta sighed. “I’m sorry, y/n. I really am, don’t look at social media right now, and your career isn’t over, we’ll get this sorted out.”

“How did you find out the truth anyway?” You asked.

“I recognized you in the painting, you had the necklace on.”

“The painting? Wait, you have that too?” Your eyes widened.

“Yes, and I was stupid to not realize it was you sooner. I—was an idiot, y/n. I hope you can forgive me. As a matter of fact, you can expose me as the Mountain Man if you want, you can expose everything.” Yuta was genuinely sorry for what he put you through. The whole world knew who you were now. You were famous, but not in a good way. Yuta had millions of fans and you were pretty sure you were the second most hated person in the world on twitter right now, behind Donald Trump of course.

“Yuta...I don’t want to get even with you, I want my life back.” You closed your eyes and started to drift off into a deep sleep while he drove.

Yuta cursed himself, he felt a bond being created with you and now he ruined it. And he had to admit that he had started to admire the woman in the painting, the woman he wanted to know even though his soul felt he already knew her. And now, the beautiful woman was right next to him, and yet, so far away.

^_^

When you got back to Yuta’s place, you entered through the garage so no one could see you get out of his car.

Yuta took you to his security room where he could watch footage from all of the cameras inside and outside of his house.

He reached for your hand to guide you through the large mansion, but you didn’t take it this time.

You huffed and rolled your eyes.

“Explain to me why you keep taking my stuff.”

“I don’t take anything. It just..appears.” Yuta walked quickly to the room.

“I'm gonna prove it to you right now.”

Yuta pulls up footage from the night the painting appeared in his bathroom, but every time he fast forwards to the exact moment that the painting appears, the footage cuts out.

“Did you see that? The second that my camera cuts to black is the moment that the painting just magically appears.”

You blink rapidly. “Play it again.”

Yuta replays it and you both watch the unexplainable. Chills run down your spine as you are creeped all the way out.

“I’ll show you the night your necklace popped up in my kitchen.”

It felt like you were watching something from Paranormal Activity and although you were a big fan of horror movies, you sure didn’t like being in one.

The same thing happened. There is a second of footage that is cut out and right after, the footage plays again with the new item in frame. It didn’t make any sense.

Yuta looked at you as you stared at the screen and tried to make sense of what he saw.

You were so beautiful, your long lashes batting slowly, your pursed lips and cute nose. Why was he so drawn to you? The magnetic pull he felt towards you became even stronger now that he knew you were the woman in the painting.

“Where is it now, Yuta?”

“Where’s what?” Yuta was only thinking about your face. For a moment, he forgot what you were even doing there.

“The necklace.” Your doe eyes shifted upwards to his.

Yuta sighed and looked away to the floor. “I—was upset, so I already sent it to the buyer.”

You closed your eyes and let out a slow breath.

“Yuta...we have to get it back, you don’t..you don’t understand.”

“They won’t give it back to me, y/n. They already know that I’m the user that sold it, it’ll be even more valuable now.”

“But it’s priceless to me, Yuta!” You yelled before tears ran down your cheeks.

“y/n..” Yuta stepped forward to hug you, and you let him. His arms held you tightly. “We’ll work this out, I’ll get it back if it means that much to you.”

“My grandmother was a painter, she’s the one that created that painting for me. She was the best..” you sniffled as you rested your head on his chest again.

“She was the one that taught me about creativity, color and believing in your art.. she’s the one I looked up to when I was growing up. I spent most of my time with her when my parents would fight..which was pretty often.”

Yuta smoothed your hair as you spoke.

“But one day, she lit a candle..she forgot to blow it out before falling asleep on her couch and a fire started to spread..”

“y/n..I’m so sorry.”

“The oil paintings allowed for the fire to become huge and made it impossible for her to escape..she died before firefighters could get to her, the only thing that survived the fire was that necklace. She held onto it..for me. She said she would give it to me one day when I was old enough.” You sobbed once more.

“y/n..I promise you I will do everything I can to get it back.”

You sniffled then looked up at Yuta. “Please, Yuta.”

He nodded. “ I promise.”

Just then you felt something walk between your ankles. When you looked down, you were startled to see your cat, Totoro.

“What the hell? Why do you have my cat? I’ve been looking for him everywhere, but he’s old and just kinda does what he wants.” Totoro’s abrupt entrance makes you stop crying.

“What? YOUR cat? He’s in my house, he’s mine now.” Yuta says sternly.

God, why was he so possessive?

You looked back up at him and pushed his chest away, you suddenly remembered the kind of man Yuta was.

“He’s MY cat, you fool. You didn’t even raise him. You probably lured him in here by giving him food!” You picked Totoro up.

You still hated Yuta, however, it was like a weight had been lifted once you told him about the significance of the necklace.

You turned to leave Yuta’s place through the back entrance you entered through.

“Prove it, prove he’s yours, what’s his name?” Yuta looked hurt that you were taking Totoro away from him.

“It’s Totoro, bitch.” You rolled your eyes and continued walking straight-faced with your cat in hand.

Yuta’s eyes grew, he was left speechless.

The two of you finally got to the garage.

You turned to him.

“You owe me a ride home, and after that, I never want to see you again.”

^_^

Yuta drove you back to your apartment, apologizing multiple times. This day he apologized more times than he has ever apologized for anything in his life. It had to be some sort of record.

You were tired because this truly had been one of the longest days of your life. You wanted a warm shower and to hug Totoro to sleep.

Yuta parked his car in front of your building and turned to look at you. “y/n...”

“Thanks for the ride back,” you muttered as you and Totoro walked back to your apartment.

You looked so dejected and devoid of any emotion. This entire misunderstanding did a number on you. And it was his fault. He had to act fast if he was going to make this up to you.

Little did you know that a pair of serpentine eyes watched you from across the parking lot. Ashley laid low in a car she typically wouldn’t be caught dead in and watched her man drive that freak home. That was when she saw that you were carrying that mangy cat in your arms.

“So it was her cat?” She asked herself. She pulled out her phone as she took pictures of you leaving Yuta’s car and pictures of Yuta’s license plate.

Once you were out of sight, Yuta just idled there. For a little too long. It drove Ashley crazy. How could Yuta be so kind to this nobody? After everything you did?

You were inferior to her in every way, Ashley thought. Yuta was a fool for looking at anyone but her. She had to do something so you could be out of the picture forever.

She would be damned if Yuta left her for an unemployed, disgraced nobody. Ashley pitied you because she wasn’t finished with her reign of terror on you. Not by a long shot.

^_^

A few days have passed since your name became the most searched on all social media platforms. You prayed something juicier could distract the public so you could become insignificant again.

A news article came out that Yuta dropped the charges against you and that you were innocent. Unfortunately, the deranged and delusional members of the public (aka the Yutastans) already made up their mind about you. And today, shit hit the fan once again.

Delilah sat with you on the couch as you binge watched Riverdale. It cheered you up to roast the show with your best friend. Things almost seemed like they hadn’t changed.

Delilah checked her phone and nearly choked on her glass of water.

“What is it?” You asked. “Are you okay?”

Delilah set her glass down as she stared at her phone. “That’s our apartment complex. Fuck.”

“Delilah, what’s wrong?” You had a bad feeling.

“y/n, it’s going to be okay. We will get through this,” she began and you motioned for her to hand you her phone.

Delilah reluctantly handed it to you as you read the article on her phone.

Yuta Nakamoto’s Crazy Stalker Is Actually His Side Chick?

That was the headline and your heart plummeted. There were pictures of you holding Totoro as you got out of Yuta’s car when he brought you home.

“What the hell,” you started, “Who took these?” You demanded.

Someone knocked at your door and you shrunk into the couch. Delilah looked at you in concern and she went to answer the door. You both feared who it could be.

She checked the peephole and exhaled. “It’s Yangyang.”

She opened the door and Yangyang ran in. “y/n, are you okay? I saw-“

Shutting the door. Delilah raised her hand up to stop him. “We just saw the article.”

Yangyang cursed. “Someone leaked those photos to the paparazzi. I‘ll help you track down who did this, y/n.”

You sat there in silence. What could you say? What was the point? It was your word against the public who never believed in you. Not only do they think you stole things from Yuta but they now considered you a homewrecker.

And it was only a matter of time before your home address was leaked.

Delilah and Yangyang looked at each other in concern. Delilah deliberated. “She came home with Totoro that day. It was last Thursday. Around...4 PM?”

Yangyang nodded and sat down at the kitchen table. “It’s been a while since I’ve hacked into the complex’s security footage.”

That got a reaction out of you. “You mean you’ve done this before?”

Yangyang smiled wide, happy to see you react to that. “Someone paid me a hefty sum to catch their cheating husband in his shenanigans. I use my powers for good. You know this.”

Delilah scoffed. “You are such a little weirdo.”

He rolled his eyes at the word “little”. He typed away at his keyboard. He chuckled. “Amateurs. They changed one number in their password. Lazy.”

Yangyang navigated through the parking lot security footage. Based off of the angle of which the photo was shot, he was able to pinpoint where the culprit was hiding.

“A 2019 Lexus,” Yangyang said, “License plate ASHL3Y.”

Delilah let out a sarcastic laugh. “Golly gee, whoever could that be...”

You got up from the couch and checked the footage with Yangyang. “I believe it. She hated me even before she met me.”

“She’s the crazy stalker, if you ask me,” Yangyang said.

You sighed. “What will it take for her to leave me alone?”

Your phone rang. It was an unknown number and you chose to ignore it, knowing damn well it was probably a Yutastan who was going to cast some sort of evil spell on you.

Then, immediately you got a text.

Answer the phone. Unless you want an angry mob to break into your apartment tomorrow. -kiss emoji-

^_^

“Thank you for agreeing to meet me,” Ashley started. “Can I offer you a glass of lemonade? Some Brie and crackers?”

In Ashley’s penthouse suite, you sat with her in the living room. She sat across from you in a leather loveseat while you sat in a massive L-shaped leather sofa.

“What the hell do you want? You want to throw it in my face that you ruined my life and put not only my life in danger but my friends’ and family’s lives in danger, too?” You snapped.

Ashley laughed. Her voice was as irritating as that of any early 2000s socialite. “Don’t be so dramatic. No one knows about your family. Your friends at the complex are safe with some of my best security guards.”

“Gee, thanks,” you said as you rolled your eyes.

“None of this would’ve happened if you knew your place and left my Yuta alone,” she said, “So, how long?” She demanded.

“What?” You asked in confusion.

“How long have you two been screwing around behind my back?” She asked.

It was your turn to bust out laughing. You almost cried. “I helped him with his shoot last Wednesday night. The closest I’ve ever gotten to Yuta was when he gave me one guitar lesson. He drove me home twice. Once from work and the second from when he picked me up from my jail cell. It was the least he could do after selling my stuff and oh...I don’t know...SENDING ME TO JAIL.“

Ashley didn’t believe you. “Right. Well, whatever happened between you two...It ends now. Or else I will keep making your life a living hell and destroy the lives of everyone around you.”

“Ashley, the last thing I want to do is see Yuta. I want to be a makeup artist and go back to the life I had before I met him.” Damn the connection you thought you two had. It would surely fade as quickly as it appeared.

Ashley began, “Which is why I have an opportunity for you.”

You frowned. “What?”

Ashley filed her nails as she spoke to you. “Timothée Chalamet’s new horror film begins production next month in Paris. There is an opening for the makeup team, y/n.”

You coughed. “What are you-“

She interrupted you, “Take the job and your name will be cleared. Your friends and family will be safe. Your dreams of becoming a successful makeup artist will come true...”

You knew she wasn’t finished so you waited for her to continue. She was so melodramatic.

“In return, you never come back to LA and leave Yuta alone forever,” Ashley said.

“I’ll have to come back to the city. You can’t ban me from visiting...That is, if I take the job,” you deliberated.

Ashley scoffed. “If?”

You sighed. “Ashley, LA is my home. It’s a big city.” You figured there had to be a way to compromise.

But you realized you were dealing with an unhinged diva.

Ashley said, “It’s a big city, sure. But as of now, every single person knows you as Yuta’s crazy stalker. It will stay that way if you don’t take this opportunity.”

You kept your mouth shut.

“I think I’m being pretty generous, all things considered,” she said as she flipped her bleached hair behind her shoulder. “You would be stupid to turn this down. Want to stay a jobless pariah? Be my guest.”

Your hands were tied. As much as you despised Ashley for making things so much worse for you, she had the answer to your problems. And since you were done with Yuta, agreeing to never see him again didn’t even feel like a big price to pay. And Timothée Chalamet was a mega Hollywood Star. Participating in his film would surely open doors for you. If Ashley kept her word to clear your name. And Paris? You’ve dreamed of going to Paris for years. Your grandmother told you incredible stories of when she studied abroad and lived there for a few years. It was a chance to be closer to her. The sightseeing and the art were enough to make you giddy.

You refused to let this girl drag your name through the mud and jeopardize your loved ones’ lives because they were associated with you. It wasn’t right. This way, everyone could win.

“Okay, you win,” you said.

“Actually, y/n, we both win,” she said as she clinked her glass of champagne at you and drank from it.

^_^

Ashley’s driver took you back to the apartment. When you unlocked the door to your place, you were shocked to see Yuta seated on the couch with Totoro on his lap.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

Yuta shrugged. “You break into my house. I figured it’s only fair I break into yours.”

You sighed as you took your shoes off as you sat beside Yuta. Naturally, Totoro left Yuta’s lap to greet you.

He nodded. “Delilah let me in. I had to check up on you.”

Yuta kept in touch with your best friend without your knowledge. You realized that now. You’d have to talk to her about that later.

“Well, that’s nice and all but you have to leave,” you said as you averted your gaze from him.

Yuta ignored you. “Where did you go? I was worried sick.”

“I’m fine. I…went to an interview,” you said. There was no way you’d tell him about your meeting with Ashley. He had the mind to intervene and you didn’t want things to escalate any further.

He stared at you in disbelief. “What? For another job? y/n, I told you that you could come back to work with us.”

You shook your head. “If I so much as go to the same supermarket as you, there will be a bounty for my head.”

He shook his head. “The charges have been dropped, y/n. What happened today was…”

“The second of many hits to my career if we don’t stop this now,” you said.

Yuta replied, “y/n-“

“Which brings me to this…Did you get my necklace back?” You asked. If he said no, then you had the ammunition to kick him out. If he somehow got your necklace back…you would have to get even meaner.

Yuta’s face fell. “No, y/n…I reached out to the buyer and they haven’t responded.” He wondered if the buyer already sold it for more or if the buyer was biding his time to ask Yuta for money. “I traced the buyer’s address but they disappeared without a trace. I am so sorry.”

You sighed. “Okay.” You got up from the sofa and headed for the door. “Then, I guess that’s all that needs to be said.” You opened it and motioned for him to leave.

Yuta got up from the couch. “y/n, please we can fix this. As crazy as this sounds, I think I’m falling-“

You stopped him. “Yuta, we can’t. You need to go. You can’t get caught in this complex again. For your safety. And if you care at all about mine.”

Yuta froze. “I will do everything I can to clear your name. Please give me time.”

You couldn’t respond to his sweet voice. You had to resist. As much as you denied it, you felt something for Yuta. From the moment you heard his song “Breeze”, you connected with him before you even met him. His hard work, his talent, his sense of humor, his admiration of your work, his way with words with you before everything went to shit, even the way Totoro gravitated towards him. There was something special about him. Given other circumstances, you would’ve considered exploring a friendship with him. But even that was out of the question. “Goodbye, Yuta.”

He slowly walked out the door and looked back at you. His captivating brown eyes trying to pull you in again but this time, they were full of hurt and longing.

You shut the door, not waiting for him to walk away.

^_^

A couple of days have passed as Yuta reached out to multiple media outlets to clear your name. He admitted that he accidentally sold your necklace. Unfortunately, he couldn’t explain exactly how he’d come into possession of your necklace. So he said the best thing he could come up with: a family friend bought it at a garage sale and thought he might like to have it. Yuta started the account 1026you to sell the items he found around his home in order to raise funds for the LA LGBT Center. Aside from his regular donations from his earnings, Yuta thought he could sell your stuff to make some extra cash for the organization. Had he known that these random items belonged to you he wouldn’t have done that. Which begged the question:

How is it that you lived all the way across town and your stuff just magically appeared in his house? And why?

It seemed like some kind of divine intervention, if anyone asked him. For you two were connected and he only wanted to grow closer to you.

Except now he couldn’t. He failed to get your necklace. You were still blacklisted no matter what he said to multiple companies. He was thankful that you were still able to get an interview like you told him. He wondered if that company hired you. He hoped you were doing well.

Rehearsals for Skylark’s LA shows were still underway. Lily was rehired and Yuta apologized to her for being so rude. The dressing room wasn’t as lighthearted as it’d been when you were around. It was a short time that you were there but he missed you so much.

With Yuta’s heartache, he used music as an outlet. He thought about the night he first taught you how to play the guitar. There was one melody that lingered in his mind every day since. Now he took his time to work the song out of his mind. It was a song that you inspired him to write and he knew it was his best work. He hoped he could play it for you soon.

Yuta missed Totoro’s presence in his home. He didn’t realize how lonely he was until he lost you and your cat. Ashley popped in every day, insisting she stay over. So he begged his sister Suzuka to let him babysit her cat Thorn. Yuta claimed it was out of his hands to babysit Thorn so Ashley stayed less frequently.

Yuta drank a cup of green tea at his kitchen island. He had the day off before his solo press conference. His management wanted him to promote his album but he would also take the opportunity to clear your name.

He pleaded with his agency to let him cut ties with Ashley but Ashley’s agency wouldn’t budge. If Yuta broke up with Ashley, then Ashley’s agency would cut ties with Sky High Entertainment.

He hoped to convince Ashley to cut ties with him today. It was almost as if she was avoiding the conversation as the minute she came in, she ran into the bathroom to take a bubble bath.

“Yuta! Can you be a doll and rub this shower gel on my back?” She asked suggestively.

Yuta knew she was trying to get him in bed so he wouldn’t be able to think straight. These days Ashley seemed more repulsive than usual. Yuta was getting tired.

“No!” Yuta yelled outside the door. “When you finish up, meet me in the living room.”

She didn’t respond right away. She lowered her voice. “Okay…”

Another hour went by and Yuta still waited in the living room. Ashley was avoiding him. He was fed up and he went to look for her. Surely, she’d be out of the bath now. She couldn’t afford to let her skin prune for that long.

He overheard her laughing in his bedroom. “I gotta tell you, Melissa. You should’ve seen the look on her face when I picked her up from that ghetto apartment complex.”

Melissa laughed over the phone. Yuta recognized those nails on a chalkboard from whenever his band had a fan meeting. Melissa Lee, his fanclub president. Yuta frowned and tiptoed as quietly as he could.

Ashley continued, “All I had to do was offer her a job in Paris. Frankly, I’m being way too nice for my own good.”

Melissa replied, “Well, at least you got her out of Yuta’s perfectly shampooed hair.”

“That I did. So when are you going to post the YutAsh tribute video to your website?” Ashley asked as she fell onto Yuta’s bed.

Paris? What the hell did Ashley do?

He remembered how you were unaccounted for that day he went to see you. She said you had an interview. It was interesting how this interview fell on the exact same day those photos of you leaving his car were leaked. Who followed you two that day?

Of course, it was Ashley. Yuta realized how stupid he’d been. She’d basically conspired against you right under his nose. And he was furious.

But he had to be strategic. There was only one way he wanted to take Ashley down. And it would be in the way that hurt most.

^_^

Yuta’s press conference was at The Grove. Hundreds of fans were lined up from the night before. The media was in a frenzy. Your members and team were also in attendance so this was the talk of the town.

The announcer called you in. “Ladies and gentleman: Yuta Nakamoto.”

Yuta, in a gray custom-made business suit, radiated elegance and lethality, which many of his fans said was his unique charm.

Yuta got up to the podium and adjusted the microphone as he spoke into it. “Hello, I’m here to announce the release date of my first solo mini album.”

The crowd roared while the cameras flashed. There was a lot of talking from the journalists in the front.

He smirked. He was ready to give them something to talk about.

“The album comes out July 15th. Ashley and I have been fake dating and I’m here to say that it’s over.”

The crowd was in an uproar. The press yelled out questions. Yuta’s team was full of mixed reactions. His bandmates cheered and laughed. Baekhyun looked panicked. The company executives looked paler than they’ve ever been.

Ashley, who couldn’t have been more obvious as she gossiped with Melissa, almost fell over in her Jimmy Choos.

Yuta laughed. “I’ll take a few questions.” He pointed to a representative from Teen Scene Weekly.

“Yuta, is your breakup with Ashley because of y/n?” They asked.

Yuta sighed. “First off, Ashley and I dated to strengthen our respective companies. We were friends. We had a good time. For a while now, I’ve wanted to cut ties with her but out of respect for my company, I held on a little longer…However, after I politely asked for a breakup, I was denied. Now tell me…do you think that’s fair? After everything Skylark has given to the company? That we get used this way? I’m fed up with it.”

Yuta knew he only had a minute at most before he was pulled off the stage. Ashley yelled out, “Yuta, please stop!”

He continued, “Which brings me to y/n. She never did anything wrong. As I have gone on record to say twenty times in the past week, she never stole from me. She lost her necklace along with other possessions. Friends and family got these possessions for me from garage sales. That’s all I know. y/n is innocent. I made a huge mistake by having her arrested. She is an excellent makeup artist. One of the best in the business. I should know because I’ve been in this industry for seven years now. So if you’ve blacklisted her, then the joke’s on you. Because she has more talent than most of your employed artists ever hope to have. Lastly, to answer your question…y/n is not the other woman. She never was. I started falling for her but I never acted on it. Until now.”

The crowd was in a frenzy. A lot of the fans were crying and it made Yuta wonder if he had any true fans at all. If they cared so much about who he dated, then they didn’t see him as anything else other than their property.

Skylark’s security guards went to pull Yuta off the stage but he walked out on his own with his hands up in surrender. The guards escorted him to his car.

Yuta got into the driver’s seat and nearly screamed at seeing Ashley in the passenger seat.

“What the fuck?” He demanded.

“I had extra copies of your car keys made,” she said like she knit him a pair of mittens.

“Get out,” Yuta said with clenched teeth.

“You ruined me, Mr. Nakamoto. How are you going to make it up to me?” She asked. Her eyeliner ran down her cheeks. Her critically acclaimed face made her look like the wicked witch from Snow White.

Yuta laughed humorlessly. “I don’t owe you anything, Ash. You ruined y/n’s life and pushed her away from me. You knew I never loved you so why? Why keep this charade up?”

“We need each other We are perfect together. With your music and your bone structure and my beauty and me being a triple threat, we would be unstoppable. We can only help each other. Why can’t you see that?” She traced her fingers over his chest.

“I’ve heard enough. Please leave before I call security,” Yuta said in a low voice.

“Security?” Ashley scoffed. “Fuck off. No one calls security on me.”

Yuta rolled his eyes, already having dialed Tom, one of the security guards. “Yeah, Yuta?” He asked.

“Come back. Ashley broke into my car,” Yuta said quickly.

Ashley grabbed his phone. “Yuta! What have you done?”

Yuta sighed. “What I should’ve done a long time ago.”

He unlocked the door as the guards came running over to pull Ashley out of the car. She put up a good fight but the guards successful got her out.

She yelled out, “Well, you’re too late! Her flight to Paris leaves in a couple of hours.”

Thankful that Ashley always had a big mouth, Yuta backed away from the scene and raced to the airport.

^_^

You were on the plane, happy to have the row to yourself. You had to find some joy somehow. It wasn’t like you were being exiled from your hometown.

Totoro stayed with your mom. Once the shoot finished, you would get him back so you can relocate from LA. It still hurt to leave everyone.

Yangyang and Delilah agreed to move in together so he could save on rent and she wouldn’t have to pay for the apartment by herself. But you had a feeling there was something they weren’t telling you. You couldn’t wait for updates from both of them.

In a matter of eleven hours, you would be at the Charles de Gaulle airport, ready to embark on a new chapter in your life. You put your earbuds in and put your music on shuffle. The first song from the shuffle was ironically “Your Type” by Carly Rae Jepsen. It was a song about unrequited love and you were tempted to skip. Instead, you chose to wallow.

As much as you suppressed it, a part of you held onto thoughts of Yuta. Losing your possessions and finding them in Yuta’s place. You were both confused. Part of you wondered if there was something paranormal about it all. Maybe paranormal wasn’t the right word. Maybe…something magical?

Even so, too much damage had been done for you two to return to the friendship you had for a such a short but sweet time. And Ashley drove an even larger wedge between you two by threatening you. As much as Yuta frustrated you with everything else, you were even more frustrated that he was still with her. If it was fake, why did he keep it up? Didn’t he want to be with someone he loved?

Well, it wasn’t your problem. He was a big boy. He should be able to handle problems like this since he talked such a big game all the time.

So irritating, you thought, but also irritatingly cute.

Unbeknownst to you, there was a commotion on the plane.

“Sir, your seat is in 5A. Come back here!” A flight attendant yelled.

“y/n!” Yuta yelled as he ran down the aisle looking for you. He wore a large beanie and sunglasses so no one could recognize him.

The passengers looked alarmed at the disguised man yelling frantically. Yuta realized screaming wouldn’t help his case so he scoped out for you.

And then he saw you.

Your face was made up but you still looked like you lost many hours of sleep the past few nights. But still, you were the most stunning creature he’d ever laid his eyes on. Your eyelashes brushed against your cheeks as you slept. Your lips slightly parted and Yuta bit his lip.

The flight attendant caught up to him. “Sir-“

Yuta raised his finger and nodded towards you.

The flight attendant calmed down. “You’re assigned to 5A. Why are you all the way back here?”

“Can I switch with whoever is supposed to sit here?” He asked.

The attendant frowned. “Why would you want to-“

“Please,” Yuta pleaded, “Sitting towards the front freaks me out.”

The attendant sighed. “Well, sir, you’re the last one on the plane so that seat appears to be available. Go ahead.”

Yuta smiled genuinely. “Thank you.”

The attendant was stunned and she had a feeling she recognized him. She shrugged it off and resumed her duties to get everyone situated on the plane.

Yuta exhaled in relief as he sat beside you. You looked so cute curled up in your chair but also very uncomfortable. He was tempted to offer you his shoulder but that would ruin the surprise.

Half an hour went by and you turned to your right to see the seat had been occupied by someone in glasses and a beanie. So much for having the row to yourself, you thought.

The stranger beside you said, “Morning, sleepyhead.”

You frowned as you opened your eyes more. “Hi…?”

But when you sat up, you saw his piercings and the curve of his lips. “Yuta?” You whisper-yelled.

He flashed his perfect set of teeth at you as he lowered his glasses. “Hey.”

You laughed in disbelief. “What are you-“

Yuta shrugged casually. “I felt like a trip to Paris.”

“Right…Who told you?” You asked. You dropped your defenses. For now.

“Surprisingly, it was Ashley. She may be a schemer but she’s never been the sharpest tool in the shed.”

You looked at him, noticing how disheveled he looked. He was soaked in sweat. He must have ran through the airport to catch this flight.

“Why are you so sweaty?” You asked.

“I ran,” Yuta said as he realized he must have looked as gross as he felt. And taking off his beanie was almost out of the question since his fuchsia hair dye made him stick out like a sore thumb.

You felt for him so you pulled some wipes from your bag and gave them to him. “That beanie looks uncomfortable so take this.” You handed him a cap instead. It was a Dodgers cap.

“Thanks,” Yuta said as he swapped the beanie for his hat and cleaned himself up.

“Well, good night again,” you said as you turned to the window and shut your eyes.

“I’m sorry, what?” He asked. He mistook your acts for kindness for wanting to talk to him.

“We’re done here, aren’t we?” You asked. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“y/n, I…You can’t move to Paris,” he started.

“I accepted the position, Yuta. I can’t go back from an obligation.” You turned away from him and stared out the window. The attendants were giving their airplane safety spiel. You know you were about to ascend. “Unless you have a schedule in Paris, then you should leave. Before you’re stuck on this flight.”

“There’s no place I’d rather be, y/n,” he said softly.

His voice sent shivers down your spine but you pushed your feelings down. You couldn’t let him get to you. “You hurt me.” You let it out. Maybe if you kept this up, he would leave you alone.

Yuta sighed. “I know and I’m so sorry.”

Upon hearing him apologize, you perked up but you chose to keep your back turned.

Yuta went on to say, “I screwed up. Getting you arrested, fired, and hated by everyone. I screwed up even more by selling your grandma’s necklace. And I hate that I couldn’t get it back. More than anything. I know what Ashley did to you. It was wrong of her. She had no right. I finally broke up with her. In front of everyone.”

You turned to him, worried about the repercussions of the break up. “By everyone, you don’t mean…”

“At my press conference…”

You put a hand to your mouth in shock. “Ashley must be furious.” What did this mean for you now? What if Ashley retracted the offer and then you were truly left without a job or a home?

Yuta chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’re worried about that witch.”

You shook your head. “If you broke up with her, then she’s on the warpath.”

Yuta replied, “She’ll find another big name to terrorize soon enough. I’m close to contract termination anyway.”

You gaped. “What?”

“At the conference, I told everyone that Ashley and I were a fake couple. I broke up with her and then…I told everyone how I felt about you. I really like you, y/n,” He turned bashful, putting his hands in pant pockets.

“Yuta, are you crazy?”

He didn’t expect that response.

“How could you jeopardize your career for me? You barely even know me. Sure, we shared pizza and…we had a moment when you taught me guitar…But that’s not enough reason to put everything on the line.”

“y/n, you don’t understand. I feel like we really know each other. I can’t explain it,” he said, “Why do you think it is that your stuff kept popping up at my place? There’s some sort of cosmic connection between us. That’s not something we can ignore.”

He thought the same way you had about the things you lost and later found. But you were scared. Ashley made you a human target and you knew you could end this stress by leaving. You didn’t want to jeopardize anyone you loved.

You didn’t even want to jeopardize Yuta. Especially since he just risked his entire career for you.

“Yuta, we can’t. Being with me will ruin your career,” you said. The plane started moving across the tarmac.

“y/n…”

Now you two were stuck on the plane. You weren’t planning to budge and you prayed that when you landed in Paris that Yuta would catch the next flight back to LA.

Hours passed. You were so exhausted that you nearly fell asleep the entire plane ride.

Apparently, so was Yuta. You woke up finding yourself leaning against his shoulder and his neck was nuzzled against the top of your head. He still smelled like roses and vanilla, even after working up a sweat to get onto the plane. He was a fool, you thought to yourself.

But you were an even bigger fool because you didn’t remove yourself from him.

The pilot announced overhead, “Ladies and gentleman, welcome to Paris. Bienvenue à Paris.”

You realized you’d been awake too long and hadn’t moved away quickly. You felt Yuta move so you pretended to have just woken up from the announcement. You quickly pulled away from him. Yuta rubbed his neck and watched you.

You left the plane with Yuta trailing behind you. You picked up your bags at baggage claim. Yuta grabbed one of your bags.

“Yuta, it’s fine. I have this,” you said as you pointed to the luggage cart.

Yuta relented and helped you put your bags on the cart.

He followed you to the arrivals section where drivers had their posters with the names of people they were picking up. You saw your name and identified yourself with the driver. The driver helped you with your luggage.

“Bye, Yuta,” you said quickly, not about to linger. You turned away when he took your hand.

“y/n, please…” He begged.

“Take care, okay?” You said as you pulled your hand away and caught up with your driver.

Heartbroken but unrelenting, Yuta was about to follow you when someone pulled his hat off.

“Oh my God, it’s Yuta! C’est Yuta. Skylark!” A girl yelled.

Yuta ran for cover, the gears shifting in his head for his next move with you.

^_^

It’s a few days later that you finally get to explore Paris. You haven’t heard a word from the fuchsia-haired boy, but you were trying to get over him anyway so you didn’t mind.

You had to realize that at the end of the day, he had his devoted army of fans and you..only had yourself. He didn’t need you, so surely he’d forget about you soon enough. You two had only known each other for a short time, regardless of it feeling like an eternity.

You breathe a sigh of relief when you get to the Eiffel Tower. It’s kinda cold, but the dreamy sunset draws in.

When you felt a sudden gust of wind, you closed your eyes and remembered Yuta’s warm chest on your back, the way his long fingers comforted and guided yours on the stiff strings of the guitar. His breath dancing along your ear while you shivered and felt goosebumps expose themselves.

The echoing bass in his voice that hit your heart..and other places too.

The sun was slowly retreating from the sky, but it was still bright..as bright as his smile, you missed it, even when he only showed it during his sarcastic, asshole moments.

His lips so full and soft, even the brush you used over them had a difficult time coloring to perfect something that didn’t need perfecting.

Ashley was one lucky girl. It was only a matter of time until she and Yuta got back together.

You looked to the ground and sighed. Why did you have to think of him? Even when one of the most beautiful pieces of art towered over you.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were missing something so great in your life now. The connection you felt with him hit you like a train and there was nothing that could compare to it. It was so strong, it could probably compete with the earth’s gravitational pull to your body.

“Yuta..I hate you, I really do.” You whispered to yourself as you clutched your long jacket around your body. You tried to convince yourself that this was true so that you’d finally be at peace. Key word: tried.

In the front of the Eiffel Tower was a board that read the rules, opening times etc.

“Le Jules Vernes Restaurant..’closed tonight for a special event..damn it.” You had planned on treating yourself to a meal at the top of the Eiffel Tower so you could take in the view as long as some fresh air. But lucky for you, it was closed for that evening.

You licked your lips and sighed.

Would you ever have things go your way?

You were about to walk away when you heard a speaker being plugged in. The feedback was obnoxiously painful and loud, and got everyone’s attention. You all turned to see the source.

A guitar riff played soon after and you heard a chorus of whispers from people on the lawn.

“Oh my God..OH MY GOD ITS YUTA NAKAMOTO FROM SKYLARK!” A girl screams as she runs past you with another girl in hand, just barely holding on.

Shit.

You squint your eyes to look at the person that a crowd begins to form around and sure enough, it is your nemesis with the pink hair. He’s smiling widely and saying ‘hi’ to everyone as his bodyguards put their arms out to stop anyone from getting too close. His guitar is in his hands and his microphone has already been set up.

“Time to go back to the hotel.”

You turn and start to brush past all the people running to see Yuta perform.

“Yuta?! What is he doing here?”

“Holy shit! Yuta is about to perform for us!”

“Yuta from Skylark? Aren’t they about to go on tour?”

You overhear some of the comments and the last thing you want is for them to realize who you are, the infamous “crazy stalker,” so you duck and push through.

You don’t feel his eyes peering the crowd and eventually locking into your body as you walk away. His smile fades and he realizes he has to act quickly.

He strums out one chord on the guitar and the girls go into a frenzy.

“This song..is for someone that just entered my life. It’s only been a few weeks, but she’s changed it for the better. She knows me more than anyone else does and I honestly don’t know how I lived without her before.”

Yuta speaks into the microphone, making the growing crowd of listeners go silent.

You slow your pace but still don’t turn around. There’s no way he could be talking about you.

“Who is he talking about? Didn’t he just break up with Ashley?” You hear a few girls whisper.

“She doesn’t know it yet, but I don’t plan on living without her anymore..she makes my head spin, she makes me forget the words to songs that I’ve sung everyday for the past 3 years, she gives me the WORST case of butterflies...she truly is a nuisance, but I need her. y/n..”

You stop in your tracks and stare at the grass below your planted feet.

“Please don’t go..” Yuta’s eyes are wide, he just needs you to turn around and look at him, to give him a second chance.

The people turn to follow his line of vision, eventually seeing your body standing alone and far away.

“Oh my god it’s her.” They whisper.

You start to walk again when you hear the whispering yet overwhelming gossip. You’re just so tired of all of the attention you’ve been getting. Yuta was trying to make some grand statement to get you back, but he didn’t realize that this was the opposite of what you wanted.

“She’s like the rain on summer days when the garden needs some nurturing...” Yuta strums his guitar and sings.

“She’s like a constellation of stars, oh she’s beautiful, and very gorgeous to me.”

You’re still walking but he continues.

“But I don’t even know her name, I only see her in a frame, yet her face is stuck in my mind..she’s the girl in the portrait, the girl with the necklace..the girl with my heart, but the girl I don’t know..I could give her the world, but it’s not like she needs it from me. She’s a work of art, she’s the only thing I see.”

You stop again, this time turning around to finally face him.

“No one knows me like you do, yes, you see the right through..and I know you won’t forgive me, I just hope you won’t forget me..because I know I’ll be thinking of you, yes you, the girl in the portrait.”

Your eyes start to tear up. The Mountain Man, the singer you so adored had written a song about you. And the melody was just as charming as his other songs. Were you that important to him that he created this song for you?

You stood there frozen as ice and stunned, with a thousand eyes on you.

“That was The Girl In the Portrait, I wrote it for y/n, because, well, it’s a funny story actually.” Yuta said as he put his guitar down and stood up. The crowd chuckled and clapped but people were still focused on you and waiting for your reaction.

This was one level above a public proposal and you didn’t know how to feel about it.

“Please..” Yuta said quietly.

You cursed silently. Your heart felt weak and you couldn’t just turn away like your conscious told you to. Your heart told you to forgive him and start over.

Yuta went all the way to Paris for you, he wrote a song for you and ditched his first tour date. He did it all for you. If that didn’t show his sincerity towards you, you weren’t sure what would.

‘I Hate You’ you mouthed before smiling.

Yuta ran towards you abruptly, making his bodyguards scurry behind him to push his fans away from him, they struggled to keep up as he dashed like Bolt towards you.

You braced yourself for impact from the 6-foot something man about to collide into you.

Yuta’s teeth showed brightly as he held out his arms and wrapped them around you. Wrinkles formed at the sides of his eyes.

He’s so filled with excitement, he lifts you three feet about the grace and bends backward.

“Yuta!” You laugh out at the sudden move, but he chuckles and brings you back down.

You breathed in his amazing scent before closing your eyes and adoring his warmth. You felt so at ease in his arms, everything faded away. The cries as well as cheers from his fans soon faded into the background. You rested your head in his chest and exhaled.

You lifted your limp arms that were once at your side and wrapped them around him while he rubbed your back. Having you in his arms tonight made it feel like Christmas Day. He never wanted it to end. Even with all the people staring and all the phones recording, he didn’t want this moment to end. He prayed that you would stay in his arms forever, for you were the only thing that made him feel comfortable and happy. You did for him what music could no longer do.

“y/n...”

“Mhmm?” you hummed, your eyes still closed while you enjoyed his embrace.

“I want to kiss you..”

Your neck nearly snapped when you looked up at him.

“What?” Your eyes widened.

“But not here..up there..will you let me?”

Yuta smirked and tilted his head towards the tower.

“Nice try, user 1026you, the restaurant is closed tonight.”

“For a special event, I know...that’s why it’ll just be me and you.” Yuta chuckled when your brows furrowed.

“Yuta..”

“I’d give you the world if you let me.” Yuta grew serious as he searched your eyes and swallowed hard. He ignored the fact that his bodyguards were having an increasingly difficult time with holding back his fans.

The two of you were surrounded by complete madness, but you felt alone..lost in each other’s eyes.

Your mouth was open slightly, you couldn’t believe that he actually booked the entire restaurant just for the two of you.

“So..You gonna let me give you a night in Paris to remember?”

You laughed and Yuta felt his chest weaken by the sight of your smile.

“You owe me big time..”

Yuta’s teeth twinkled. “We gotta run, ready?”

He took your hand and the two of you hustled to the entrance of the Eiffel Tower.

His fans ran after you two while you laughed and held onto each other tightly.

Everything happened in slow motion, the two of you moved like runaway lovers, chaos surrounded you but it didn’t matter, for you had each other. You looked over to see Yuta’s goofy smile.

The tour guide at the entrance was able to quickly let you in and close the door behind you to stop anyone else from following.

You found the elevator and got on.

Once at the top, you let go of Yuta’s hand to walk around and see the magnificent view. A million tiny lights decorated the streets of Paris. It was darker outside now, but you could still see the large crowd that surrounded the tower start to dissipate.

They looked like ants below you, slowly dispersing from the ants nest to get more food.

You were so stunned by the view, you didn’t notice that Yuta was watching you, your eyes gazing in amazement, your hair blowing softly in the wind and your bright smile that made even the moon seem bleak.

“y/n..” he called your name. There was something he wanted to see.

You turned to look at him over your shoulder.

“Yeah?”

And there it was. The pose from the portrait. You glancing over your shoulder so intensely. Your eyes large with wonder, your lips full and slightly parted, your hair shining in the moonlight. You are beautiful, Yuta can’t describe it, but he knows he is happy to be able to see an artwork come to life.

“Yuta?” You turned to him full and walked over. “What’s wrong? You’re staring again” you giggled.

“I’m happy.” Yuta smiles and looks down at you.

“Well, we’re in Paris at the Eiffel Tower! Of course you’re happy.” You chuckled and turned to look out at the city from a different angle, but Yuta took your hand in his and spun you around.

You tripped and fell onto his chest before looking up into his eyes.

“No...I’m happy because I’m with you.”

He whispered and your body felt weak. Luckily, he was holding you up so you could balance yourself.

He held you close and looked onto your lips which were just a few inches from yours. His breath slowed to match yours, you look into his lips and swallow hard.

“Y-Yuta.”

He leaned forward, placing a small kiss on your lips. Your eyes closed, his kiss made you feel like fireworks had been set off right there in your chest. It was magical even though it only lasted for a second.

Yuta was nervous, he wasn’t sure if you were ready. You held his head in your hands and looked into his eyes.

You then kissed him hard while tilting your head to the side. Yuta finally relaxes in your hands and kisses you back, opening his mouth so that he could lick your top lip.

His lips were fluffy and felt exactly like how you imagined them to feel. Silky, smooth. Even as he pressed harder, you couldn’t help but feel fragile like you’d collapse at any moment, your legs threatening to give out at any moment.

Soon, your tongues found each other and playfully danced while you struggled to keep your breathing stable.

Time slows down once again as you kiss for what feels to be days.

Yuta draws small circles and lines on your back as he pushes your body into his more. He wants more, so much more. He wants to feel you everywhere, and he can’t get enough of your touch, the way your dainty fingers play with the hair on the nape of his neck.

But you have to pull away to breathe.

“Wow..you could’ve gone on for days, couldn’t you?” You try to catch your breath as you look up at him.

Yuta smirks. “I’m a singer, it’s called breath control.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’S cALleD BrEATh coNtRoL.” You mocked him.

The two of you laughed. Yuta took your hand to guide you to a table that had been set for the two of you.

It was weird being so high above the rest of the world. But you liked it. It was just you and Yuta. Nothing else. There was no Ashley, no fans, and no drama.

Yuta rubbed his reddened lips with two fingers.

“Let’s hurry up and eat..I want to finish what you started.”

“What I started? Sir, I recall you being the one that started that kiss!”

“Nah you gave me those eyes..�� Yuta was teasing you again.

You rolled your eyes and sat back in your chair.

When you finished eating, you looked into the city again and felt an internal peace. There was something so comforting about being away from the madness. Yeah, your life wasn’t what it was two months ago, but you sure as hell felt all the madness was worth it.

Getting Yuta was worth it.

You leaned forward, placing your jaw on your hands.

“What are you thinking about?

Yuta watched your eyes searching the city again. The moonlight and single candle lit on the table brought out your smooth skin even more, as well as the outline of your nose and lips. He could watch you all night.

“I like the view,” you answered softly.

“You do?” Yuta’s brows raised.

“Yes..” you nodded.

“You’re my best view..” Yuta smiled widely.

You blushed. “Ehh.. I don’t know about that line.”

“Okay how about this one?

“I wish you didn’t have a name..so I could call you mine?” Yuta leaned forward to match your pose and place his head on his hands.

“Oh no..it’s getting worse.” You held your face in your hands, feeling the heat in your cheeks rise. You’re both a little tipsy from the alcohol you had at dinner.

“Are you from Paris? Because Ei-FELL for you..” he smirked and took your hands in yours so he could see you blush.

You laughed and melted into your seat. “Oh God, Yuta make it stop.”

“Okay, okay I’ll stop..but before we leave, I have something to give you.”

You sat up straight and gave a puzzled look.

“I’m sorry again about your grandmother’s necklace. I tried..I even called up your hacker friend YangYang for help, but he couldn’t find it either..I’m so sorry. I know I can never make up for that.”

Your face straightened and you blinked slowly as the reality settled in that you would never see your grandmother’s necklace again.

“But..I did get you this..I hope her memory can still live on through this..”

Yuta reaches into his pocket and hands a small box. When you open it you find a gold necklace with a shining stone surrounded by small pearls as the pendant . The resemblance between it and your missing necklace is strikingly similar. Your mouth falls open.

“My grandmother’s necklace was the only one of its kind...how..how in the world did you find this?”

You looked closely to see that the one difference was the stone in the center.

“I searched online and went to a few antique stores and met this strange lady..what was her name again? Was it Celeste or Cerulean? Hmm..wait! It was Cyan! Yeah I showed her a picture and she found it in her store for me.”

“Yuta..that’s amazing.”

And that’s when you realized what the color of the center stone was. It’s not purple, nor red. Not pink, nor magenta..no it’s..fuchsia.

Yuta was your soulmate..that’s why your things were disappearing. The universe was pushing you to him. You were destined to meet and fall in love. How could you not realize it sooner? That’s why you felt this undeniable pull towards him.

“What’s wrong?” Yuta grows concerned when he sees your eyes start to tear up.

“Nothing..nothing..it’s perfect, Yuta.” You decided not to tell Yuta because you couldn’t really explain it. Things were finally falling into place and you just wanted to spend time with him, for you didn’t know if you’d have the chance to be with him again..in this universe..or in another one.

“Let’s go home.” Yuta kneeled down and wiped your tears with his finger.

————

Yuta helps you out of the limo once you get to your luxurious hotel. He had the driver take you to a back entrance so his fans wouldn’t see the two of you.

“Thank you.” You let go of his hand and are about to start walking but Yuta grabs your waist and throws you over his shoulder. You yelp out in surprise. Your ass is in the air as you dangle over him.

“Ahh!! Yuta!”

“Shhh we came through the back for a reason.” Yuta chuckles then gives your ass a hard smack with his hand.

“Ahh! Damn it, Yuta!”

You lay out a string of curse words as Yuta gets into the elevator. He only smiles while strangers stare and wonder what in the world is going on.

When you get to the room, Yuta flips you from his shoulder and onto the bed. You plop down and feel your body bounce back up from the plush mattress.

“I swear to-“ you start but Yuta leans down over you, attacking your lips as soon as you open them to make some snarky comment.

He liked hearing you talk back to him, but he liked kissing you even more.

You lick his bottom lip, then kiss his lips again, enjoying the way both of your lips grow wet from each other.

He was just as playful with his tongue, letting it place kitten licks on the soft surface of your lips, he kissed softly, teasingly. It was almost ticklish. You felt your chest rumble.

You closed your eyes and traced your hands up Yuta’s back, pressing him into you more.

The bitter taste of alcohol stayed on your lips and your head felt light, you both felt like you were getting drunk all over again.

Yuta presses into you more, running his hands along your sides before holding your face as he guides the passionate kiss.

You pushed your body upwards and grinded onto Yuta, feeling his member poke through his jeans. You placed a finger into his belt loop, pulling him downwards. You then wrapped your legs around his waist and crossed them over his back to bring his body closer to yours even more.

Yuta took the hint and pushed into you slowly, grinding his covered member against your covered, but increasingly wet entrance.

You moaned into his mouth when you felt him press onto your weak spot teasingly. You trembled under him, hands shaking as they clawed at his back lightly.

It felt like a bouquet of flowers were slowly opening up in Yuta’s chest. You were the most beautiful melody, the graceful echo of godly chords being played in a church organ, you were the angelic singing heard all the way from heaven. That’s what you felt like to Yuta. And he had to write about you, he had a hundred songs already in mind to write about you.

He prayed that you wouldn’t stop kissing him this time, that you wouldn’t have to pull away to breathe.

He didn’t know that you felt the same way, that he felt like a day at Disney that you didn’t want to end. He felt like a birthday surprise happening over and over and over. He was the glass of water after a long run. He made you feel euphoric just from an embrace like this. With the two of you finally being alone together, it was like the stars had collided to create something so beautiful, extraordinary and new.

But still, you were scared. Now that you found your soulmate, would he disappear? What if this was your last night in this universe? You couldn’t remember anything about your life before, but you knew that you were somewhere else before all of this.

And could something this good last? Were you really away from all of your troubles?

You were deep in your thoughts and without realizing, you kissed Yuta so hard, you accidentally bit his bottom lip.

Yuta pulled away. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” He rubbed the blood from his lip, eyes growing wide.

“N-no, Yuta..I’m sorry. It’s just..” you swallowed hard then licked your lips.

“What if..this is it? What if we won’t be together after tonight?”

You played with the collar of his shirt to distract yourself.

Yuta tilted his head then placed his hands on either side of your head to hold himself up.

“y/n..I don’t plan on letting you go..ever. You make me feel..” Yuta didn’t know how to describe it either.

“Amazing.” But that wasn’t enough, it was much more than that. So much more. No word in the entire dictionary could suffice for the feeling he had.

“And if the universe allows..It won’t be the last night. It’ll just be the first of many.” He gave you a wink. “What do you say? Let’s give it a try?”

You nodded and licked your lips.

“And uh..how far do you want to go because I..” Yuta looked down at your linked bodies.

You blushed when you realized what he was looking at. It was the outline of his member sticking out in his jeans and aiming towards the apex of your legs.

You thought about the chances of this being your first and last night together, and knew you wanted to experience it with Yuta. If just kissing him made you euphoric, how would making love feel?

You nodded. “I want you to make love to me Yuta, love me like it’s the last time.” You rubbed his flexed biceps and he grew weak. The combination of your gentle touch and doe eyes while those sweet words left your mouth made him feel like he’d lost all feeling in his legs.

“It won’t be the last time, but it will probably be the best time since we’re in the city of romance. Don’t expect too much from me when we do this again, okay?”

You nodded, giggling as you held his belt again. He glanced down at your hands as they fiddled around.

He chuckled then looked back up at you. “Is your name Paris, because I think my Eiffel Tower belongs in you?”

“Yuta!! I swear to G-“ you started again, but he quickly placed his mouth on yours, taking the air as it left and circling your top lip with the tip of his tongue.

You both ran out of patience, taking each other’s lips in between your teeth. You shimmy out of your jacket and Yuta tosses it to the side. You tug the hem of his black t-shirt and help him take it off over his head, his hair becoming rustled in the process but it gives him a cute, messy look. You can’t help but laugh.

Yuta smirks and rubs his hands up and down your thighs while gazing into your eyes, pressing into the soft squishy skin to massage them.

You bite your swollen lips, knowing that he’s watching your chest rise up and down under him.

“I could stare at you all night.” He whispers.

“I know..but I want you to make love to me first.” You say as you start to unbutton your blouse.

Yuta watches your fingers play with the buttons, allowing for several inches of your skin to be revealed each time. He licks his lips but waits for you to finish and reveal yourself to him, gripping the crook of your knees while he waits.

“Yuta..” you breathlessly call out his name before biting your lips. Your voice makes him dizzy, he wants to hear you say his name over and over again like a broken record, because you just sound so..heavenly. No song could compare.

He leans forward, placing his hands on yours and gripping the bow separated fabric. And it’s like he’s opening his curtains to see a bright, sunny day after a scary thunderstorm.

He opens it slowly, staring at the small space between your breasts that he wants to decorate so badly.

You stare at his neck and then his abs, all the places you want to kiss passionately while listening to his low groans.

Yuta takes the sleeves of the shirt down your arms, his fingertips lightly touching your skin but still leaving an intense rush flowing through your veins.

You lock eyes as he tosses it to the side with the jacket.

He lowers his head to your chest and breathes over it, leaving a steamy breath over your nipple. You shiver under him and let out a moan.

“Yuta..” You arch your back, desperate to feel him on you. Having him inches away from your skin just isn’t enough, especially when he’s shirtless and daunts his stunning body over yours.

But Yuta doesn’t respond. He licks your nipple and looks up to see you tremble once again. He can feel the response from your body under him even though he’s not touching you.

“Please..” you put your hand onto his back and rub it softly to push him along.

He kisses in between your breasts, then sucks hard, biting the skin to leave a mark.

You cry out his name again, this time, your fingers going through his thick hair as he moves on to suck your nipple.

He presses his tongue firmly and flat against it, then pleases a sloppy kiss onto it.

He massages your other breast while his mouth continues to work on the first, sucking hard so he can hear you say his name once again. He circles around the areola with the tip of his tongue at a pace so slow, you start to go insane. He then flicks the tender tip with his tongue as you throw your head back and moan.

You push your body upwards but Yuta pulls away. As expected, he teases you, wanting to draw this moment out for as long as possible.

“Yuta..please touch me.”

He looks into your large eyes as you beg, but then he looks down to your breasts and isn’t satisfied so he pays attention to the other breast, switching between gentle and firm sucking. Your moaning gets louder and louder, and you’re happy that Yuta paid for the suite that takes up one floor.

His large hand cups your breast, his fingers pressing into the skin and pumping it slowly.

His plush lips kiss everywhere, lighting fires of feeling across your sensitive skin.

Yuta then starts to grind down into you. Your opening is still covered by the rough fabric of your jeans, but aching nonetheless. The sudden contact made you jolt upwards. You’re so wet and needy, you’re sure you’re soaking through your jeans at this point.

Yuta quickly drags your jeans down your legs, you start to kick them off and let it fall to the floor.

“You’re so wet, baby.” Yuta stares at your soaked panties and smiles.

He retakes his position, placing his hands on either side of your head again, and sucking on your nipple.

This time he sucks harder, humming as he grinds down into you to hear you whimper loudly. The vibrations allow for a tingling sensation to echo through your skin, you feel lightheaded, your jaw locking, and your vision fading.

“Yuta!”

You say before releasing. Your grip on his hair tightens as he continues to suck on your skin while you cum. You moan loudly and breathe heavily..you slowly start to come back to Earth.

“Oh, you’re loud..but I like that.” Yuta gives you a wink then runs his fingers over your underwear.

“I didn’t even touch you and you came.” He says smoothly.

You jerk at the feel of his fingers parting your folds to collect your essence.

“You cocky bastard.” You say breathlessly.

Yuta only smirks as he walks around the bed and to a wall beside it.

“I forgot to show you this..” he presses a button and looks up at the ceiling.

You kneel on the bed and move to the center of it.

The white covering separates from the center, opening up to reveal a window.

Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open when you see the beautiful night sky, dazzled by twinkling stars. And even though it is late at night, you can still see traces of sapphire blue and small, faint lines of indigo.

There’s nothing like it. You can see why Van Gogh painted Starry Night.

“So we’re gonna fuck in front of the stars?” You ask bluntly, gaining a loud chuckle from Yuta.

“I promised to give you the best night you’ve ever had so..yes.” His eyes squinted when he laughs again.

“Yuta..this is..”

“Amazing? Legendary? Extraordinary? Yeah I know” he put his hands on his hips as he watched you gaze.

You roll your eyes and turn to him. “Come here..”

You head over to the edge of the bed and get on your knees. Yuta walks over to you, watching your hands unhook his belt and tug his jeans down.

You lean back and fall into the center of the bed while waiting for him to kick off his jeans and get on the bed.

Yuta nearly trips and falls as he struggles to take his jeans off while watching you. You start to take your panties down your legs but Yuta stops you.

“No! I wanna unwrap the present.”

“Ugh, you’re so weird.” You hold your face in your hands again.

“Look at me, sweetheart.” Yuta grabs your ankle and squeezes hard.

“Oh!” You yelp out at the pain and look down at him, watching as he crawls over your slowly on the plush bed.

He takes the waistband of your panty in between his fingers and slowly drags it down while looking into your eyes. Your heart starts to race again. He’s so close to your wet and needy entrance, but you feel the sharp, icy slap of cold air once you’re exposed.

“Beautiful..” Yuta adores your naked body below him.

He traces his fingers on the surface surrounding your folds, just pressing shy of them to make you writhe.

“Yuta..please.”

He rubs two fingers along your folds painfully slow, using the side of his long fingers to part them.

Yuta retreats his fingers and puts them into his mouth.

“So good.” He breathlessly lets out. He teases your entrance again, his spit and your essence now mixing as he presses nearly perfect circles into your core.

You can feel the knot in your stomach start to build again. Your mouth falls open as you moan.

You arch your back and hold onto the sheets with a grip so tight, you felt your knuckles become white. You look up at the stars and think to yourself how beautiful it is out there. You feel your spirit start to ascend while Yuta plays with your clit.

Your legs start to shake and threaten to close completely as you grow more and more sensitive to his touch.

Yuta uses his other hand to pump then align himself with your opening.

His length glistens with pre cum, the tip red and veins pumping fiery blood through it.

He’s more than ready now and you can’t wait to take him.

“Open up for me.”

You don’t hesitate to spread your legs further apart so your hips align with his.

He leans down and holds himself over you with both hands, looking into your eyes before kissing you enthusiastically, tugging your lip between his teeth so you can call out his name again.

He pushes into you slowly while you kiss.

Yuta drinks in your moan and groans when he feels your silky walls surround him.

He lets go of your lips and buries himself into the crook of your neck. He breathes deeply, pushing into you again.

“So tight, fuck.” He whispers.

You take a deep breath and look at the stars above you to stop yourself from coming already.

He starts to thrust into you again, but you let out a quiet whimper.

“Shit..I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Yuta. K-keep going.”

You rub his back to push him along.

He begins to rub your clit, your mouth falling open into a silent cry.

He pushes all of himself into you then pulls out, groaning once again when he buries himself back inside.

He grinds against your silky walls while holding you close and rubbing small circles into you.

Your heated bodies comfort each other as they are finally connected, working towards the same goal.

Yuta smells like a combination of amber and musk, but feels like a soft blanket during winter, his muscular arms holding your body still while also hugging you in the most passionate embrace you’ve ever experienced during sex.

His heart beat matches yours, his breath attaches itself to your neck. His throaty moans begin to get louder and louder.

Your fingers run through his hair while you whimper.

You’re so close.

Yuta moves faster, harder, pushing into you so hard, the bed starts to move.

He lifts himself from your chest and looks down at you. Your saddened by the coldness you feel between your bodies now but Yuta is so beautiful. His magenta hair now wavy, some strands sticking to his forehead, leftover eyeliner smudging and bringing out the depth of his eyes.

He grabs your ankles, completely enclosing his fists around them before placing them into his shoulders.

He grinds into your entire body at a different angle now, the pressure on your g-spot increasing significantly. “That’s feels good, Yuta..oh my G-“

You start to clench around him, making him groan and push into you harder.

“y/n..” he whispers while looking into your eyes. “You’re beautiful..in every way.”

His surprisingly sweet words make you smile.

You gaze at the stars, but your vision starts to blur. You can’t think of anything but Yuta, the feeling is so amazing, you can’t describe it. To be filled up by him, to be completely enraptured by him, there is nothing like it. The knocking of the headboard against the hotel wall and the sounds of skin on skin brings you to the edge.

You grip the sheets tightly as your eyes close.

They roll into the back of your head and your back arches. The euphoric feeling takes over and you swear your spirit leaves your body for an entire minute.

Yuta fucks you through your high but pulls out and releases onto your belly soon after, experiencing the same overwhelming feeling in his spirit too.

He collapses onto the bed beside you and looks up at the stars, taking your hand into his and squeezing it gently.

You look over at each other and laugh, it’s as if you were both thinking the same thing. How did you climax so hard?

Several minutes pass and you’re about to get up to get a towel but Yuta holds your hand.

“I’ll get it, just relax, baby.”

He comes back with a wet washcloth and gently cleans you up.

“I love you..” he says quietly.

“Yuta..it’s a bit early for that.”

He nods while cleaning up the strings on your belly. “I know..but I can’t shake this feeling. I think you’re the one..I think you’re my..soulmate.”

You’re stunned to hear Yuta speaking like this. If he realized you were soulmates, what would happen now?

“I mean, I don’t know if you believe in that kind of thing, but..”

“I agree, Yuta..I think you’re my soulmate, which is why I’m scared to lose you..good things never last.” You say quietly and avoid his eyes.

“Don’t say that, we’ll be okay..I know we’ll be okay. Just trust me, okay?”

Yuta crawled over you and gave your forehead a light peck.

You made love again then cuddled all night, but when morning came..so did reality.

————

You jump up at your desk, startled by a harsh gust of wind against your back.

What just happened? Where are you? Where is he?

You look around you and see towering wooden shelves filled with books.

How did you end up here?

“y/n? You okay?” You hear a young voice call to you.

You turn to see Charlotte, the 13-year old volunteer at the library.

The Library

Shit. You’re back.

You hold your head in your hands and wail.

Charlotte rushes over to you, hugging you tightly while shushing you.

“Y/n! Y/n! Be quiet! We’re in a library, you can’t be loud like this!”

You sniffle. “I know! But it was so good! I was so happy there!”

“What? Are you talking about your dream?”

That’s all it was..a sweet dream, an imaginative universe you only had a quick taste of...nothing was real now. How on Earth would you find him? You were back to reality.

Totoro walked across the desk and meowed.

You looked at him and pouted.

You knew who you were..a boring librarian that owned a cat named Totoro..but who was Yuta in this universe?

How would you find him?

“y/n?” Charlotte called out to you. “Do you want to go home?”

Several weeks passed and you slowly started to assimilate back into your old life. You googled his name but found nothing, he was nowhere to be found.

You just had to accept that it was a dream, a dream followed by the nightmare of reality.

You hoped that you would find your soulmate again, but you knew the chance was little to none. So you did what you did before. Work, eat, spend time with your best friend and roommate Delilah, sleep, then wake up to do it all over again.

Love didn’t have a place in your life, could you even come to accept a loved other than Yuta? Damn him for giving you a night in Paris to remember.

———

“The true crime section is in row 13.” You pointed to a large sign hanging from above reading “TRUE CRIME NOVELS.” You wondered how anyone could miss it, then again old people were usually the ones that needed the most help when they came to your library.

You turned back around to your returned-book cart that you were taking books from to stack the shelves with. But you noticed that it was now empty.

You were 75% sure that you didn’t put away ALL of the books before turning to help the senior citizen, yet all of them were gone.

All..except for one that had fallen to the floor. It was open when you picked it up. When you looked at the page that it was open to, you realized that it was a book of poems.

The poem it was opened to read:

She’s like the rain on summer days when the garden needs some nurturing...

She’s like a constellation of stars, oh she’s beautiful, and very gorgeous to me.

But I don’t even know her name, I only see her in a frame, yet her face is stuck in my mind

You squint your eyes, where have you seen this before?

she’s the girl in the portrait

the girl with the necklace

the girl with my heart

but the girl I don’t know

I could give her the world, but it’s not like she needs it from me

She’s a work of art, she’s the only thing I see

The girl with the necklace..

That’s it! It’s Yuta’s song! He wrote this, he’s out there somewhere. Perfect! Now you could track down the author and find him-

But wait.

You looked down to see the author’s name.

The One in the Middle

“Shit. It’s just like him to not put his real name on his work.”

You opened your laptop and immediately went to google.

“Who is the author named ‘The One in the Middle’?” You said as you typed.

Nothing. Nobody knew who he was. Many asked about his other poems, but there were no answers, only fan groups that praised the mysterious writer. ‘No one knows who he is but that adds to his ‘sexiness’ that’s what their Facebook post stated.

And none of his works were posted or published electronically, so you couldn’t ask someone to track his IP address like you did the first time.

You sigh and hold your head in your hands. “Damn it Yuta, why do you make things so difficult?”

It was comforting to know he’s out there somewhere, but you couldn’t help but lose hope. Was the universe messing with you?

———

A few weeks pass again and Delilah decides to drag you to the opening of a new art gallery downtown. Normally, she’d take her boyfriend with her, but he had basketball practice tonight.

“Thank you for coming with me, y/n! You know my professor, always making us look at other works for “inspiration” I mean, why can’t I just look at works online?” Delilah spoke as you two walked around. She was a musical theatre student, but had to visit an art gallery at least once a week to pass her art appreciation class.

She didn’t see the point in it, but you always had a connection to art that you couldn’t explain. No one in your family was a visual artist. Unlike in your “dream,” your grandmother wasn’t a painter and passed away before you could even meet her.

Nonetheless, color and technique was something you grew to appreciate.

There were about 50 people in the gallery, all high class looking. You felt underdressed in your black turtleneck, black jeans and jean jacket. That’s one thing that you did miss, wearing color all the time like you did in your dream. Now, you were back to wearing black. It was like a metaphor for how you felt. Your colorful and intense world has turned to black.

The only thing that stood out from your outfit was your necklace.

“I’m going to the restroom, I'll be right back!” Delilah skips away.

You nod then walk around a wall in the middle of the room. When you turn the corner, you see..yourself.

It’s the painting from your dream..the one of you slightly turned around. Your necklace is still in it too except..

You step closer and see that it’s different. The stone isn’t ruby anymore, no..

“It’s fuchsia..” you whisper. You glance down to see that the author’s name is The One with Many Friends.

“It’s funny because I was thinking it was more magenta, but you’re right..it really is fuchsia. You’ve got good eyes.”

You slowly turn when you recognize the voice.

Time starts to slow down. You can’t believe your eyes. It feels as though the world has stopped moving and it’s just the two of you once again after so much time.

It was Yuta.

Yuta smiles brightly when you look up at him, he recognizes you right away as you make the same pose you have in the painting.

“Yuta..” the name barely leaves your lips.

“It’s you..y/n.” He walks towards you, pace increasing with each step before taking you in his arms as all of his memories flood his brain. He had seen your face every night in his dreams but he couldn’t remember who you were. He painted you in an effort to figure out who you were, but it didn’t help.

Now finally, he got his answer.

Everything that was missing found its rightful place.

“I read your poem, but you used a pseudonym..again! I thought I would never find you.” You cry into his shoulder while holding onto him tightly.

Yuta smiles and caresses your hair.

“I told you...just trust me, we’ll be okay.”

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