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penvisions · 3 months

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gone to the dogs {chapter 4}

Pairing: Boston QZ! Joel Miller x Reader ; brief mentions of Boston QZ! Joel Miller x Tess Servopoulos

Summary: Unexpected glimpses of your past allow for your softer side to be exposed. But it won't be the thing that alters the dynamic between your trio. No, you have something else planned for that.

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, canon typical gore, outbreak fic, age gap (only by about ten years), angst, dark fic, dark joel miller, mean joel miller, joel miller is uptight, degrading language, sexual language, sexual proposition, violence, heated interactions, descriptions of a minor assault, adult language, fighting, argumentative language, mutual disdain, sexual content, implication of sex work, unprotected piv, sexual acts, reader is snarky, reader gets violent, major injuries, dismemberment, reader meets joel toe-to-toe with insults and it's amazing, both reader and joel pov, lemme know if there are any i missed!

A/N: ARE Y'ALL READY, but seriously, i hope y'all enjoy this chapter *minor spoiler but reader's singing voice is very much akin to ruby leigh from the voice contestant show

ao3 link || series masterlist || joel miller masterlist || ko-fi

It’s early morning, when Tess seeks you out. The sun barely coming up and showing its form over the horizon, the sky swathed in deep oranges and golden tones that remind you of seasonal fruit.

Frank is sitting with you already, coffee brewed fresh and sweetened with frozen ice cubes of coffee creamer and sugar. A surprise you hadn’t anticipated but greatly appreciated as the man beside you refilled your cup time after time to ensure it was never truly empty. Conversation had been light, on the back porch where you had curled up in the wicker loveseat to try and get the weight off of your body for a few hours.

As soon as she shuffled through the door, Frank removed his hand from where it was tangled with your own and said he would get started on breakfast. Wanting to ensure you, all three of you, had a full stomach for the journey back to the zone. His way of taking care of you where you’ll let him, even now in the end of the world.

“Look, I know it may seem like I was playing some game yesterday…” The older woman breaks the silence, knowing your mind must be turning and overturning the events of the last few days.

“Just wanted to know I was meant to be playing along.” She’s not cautious, but there’s a tiredness and stilted manner to her sitting down in one of the matching wicker chairs. The cushion and pillow in the seat do little to comfort the unease you can see in her body. It’s as if she hasn’t slept, or that her sleep was restless just like your own despite the safe environment and almost now foreign amenities.

“I was being genuine with them, Frank…he’s reminded me of who I used to be. As I’m sure he has with you, especially sharing a past I’m not going to ask after. It’s your business and that’s your prerogative.”

“Sent your guard dog after me to listen into my conversation with him, not sure I really believe the sentiment.”

“Cane, you know as well as I do that he does what he wants.”

“Doesn’t take away from the fact that he reports back to you. Acts as if you two are the ones who run things. Conversations I’m not a part of.”

“We all run things, the three of us.” You’re glad for her roundabout honesty, though you know that it’s natural for rifts to divide people, for them to seek out those they are more comfortable with. That talking with someone you feel bonded with, a partner, a friends, is a part of life. That they both must have conversations going over things just as you do with her, though not as frequently.

“Yeah, looks like it from the outside, doesn’t it?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that you two have gotten very comfortable with the way things are in the zone-“

“No more comfortable than you made yourself in my bed the other night.” Her eyes meet your own in a silent challenge, will you lie and cover up the fact you shared Joel’s bed, or will you be honest with the woman who does so on a regular basis. You don’t know Joel as well as she does, but he doesn’t strike you as the type to seek out attention or affection from other’s behind someone’s back. A cheater, he is not, though he has done many questionable things to survive. She doesn’t seem upset, at least outwardly, though you know it must strike a cord near her heart. The way you catch her gazing at him sometimes tells you more of her feelings than she ever has. And for that, you cannot fathom lying.

“That was a lapse of judgement. It had been a shitty day trying to move what little product I had. He didn’t fuck me if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“I don’t care if he did, that’s his prerogative. I don’t own him, I don’t control him-“

“Wouldn’t matter if you did, he needs to feel like he’s got someone to look out for and you’re it. He would do anything for you, does do anything that you ask of him now. It’s me he has a problem with and I’m not entirely sure why he laid with me the way he did.” You try to soothe her as best you can, as best as you’re able to in the situation. She must know what she means to him, or at least what he’s able to with the damage and destruction he’s surely endured.

“He doesn’t have a problem with you-“

“Save it, I know he does. I know you do too, blatantly throwing us under the bus to make us seem like untrained dogs who only snap and bite at those that near us.”

“That was more for him, than for you.”

“And yet you still said it the way you did. It wasn’t appreciated.”

“I didn’t intend for it to hurt your feelings, I apologize if it did. I really am…appreciative of the way you’ve allowed us both to fold into your zone.” It’s obvious, the appeal she’s trying to make to you now. The same woman who had been at the table yesterday. A glimpse of who she used to be, but it bothers you how you can’t tell if she’s genuine or not, if it’s the same play you had been orchestrating with her the past couple of months.

“You came into my home to try and get intel on me before usurping me. Of course you’re grateful I folded you into the scene. You wouldn’t have had anything otherwise.”

“Not nothing, no. But I do realize it would’ve been less if you were getting a portion of the cut of everything we got on both sides.”

You only hummed in response. Aware that this conversation was taking turns you’d rather not delve into at the moment.

“We’ve all gotten comfortable, me included, you’ve given me the room to do so. But I talked to Frankie, he’s willing to convince Bill to agree to it. You’ll lead this one, you did find it after all and there’s no reason for my knowing him to effect that.” You don’t have to fear for someone lunging at you in the dark, for someone using a trade as a rouse to lure you alone to take advantage. Her intelligence and Joel’s strength have allowed you breathing room in the months of constant worry after your brother’s death.

“Joel will need to really be on his best behavior. He’s got his teeth bared because Bill does.”

“Then reign him in.” You meet her eyes, the worry you house at the rise of conflict that is all too real aimed her way but ever present in the way you didn’t have to say anything else. She nods once as you lifted your mug up and took a sip of the wonderful coffee Frank had been kind enough to keep full. “Mind him and lead by example. I will as well.”

“He doesn’t think poorly of you, if he did, he wouldn’t be insistent on joining you beyond the walls.” It’s hard to know how to respond, it’s almost default to fling insults with the older man, to taunt him and see if he rises to the bait, something he does in return. But despite it all, you would defend him should he truly need it and you only hoped he would do the same. You doubt he would die for you, but that was such a rare devotion these days.

“I suppose not, but…should anything happen he will still work with you. He…Joel is someone who needs someone by his side whether he wants to admit it or not. Like you said. And you would be good for him, protect him as he protects you. It’s…good you were willing to work with us.” It’s implied, the connection you both have with the man even if it feels different, looks different. The way she wishes for you to recall that should something happen to her. Infection, sickness, a trade gone wrong, a trigger-happy soldier, anything. She wants to ensure he won’t be alone.

“I swear to you, should something happen, I won’t throw him to the crowd waiting to tear him apart.”

“Thank you.”

“Tess, just- I have a feeling the scene is going to get worse before it stabilizes again. The cartons of cigarettes Frank is going to give us will help but, other things are bound to dry up.”

She’s quiet for a beat, taking in the way you reach for your mug. She’s watching you as much as you’re watching her. It’s not a stalemate, it never is between you two. She knows your penchant for comments on how things are going, the ways your mind works and overworks. Concerned about details and the intricacies of things whereas she’s focused on the entire scene or play. It’s a match, which allows for all things to be considered, working well with each other in the past year. She has to be aware of that, at least, even as tensions rise and perspectives are beginning to warp and shift.

“Cane, this- opportunity to do trade with an outside source, it could help prevent scavenges into the decaying city. You know as well as I do that things are getting harder and harder to find as time goes on. Hell, it’s already beginning to thin.”

“It is…” You agree solemnly.

It’s when you’re in the shower again, before you change into the clothes you had showed up in, that Joel seeks you out. Now washed and dried, folded atop the counter waiting for you. The door opens and closes without the call of a voice but you can hear the distinct steps of Joel as he stand in the middle of the bathroom. Hear the way he’s breathing a little harder than normal. You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when you hear the hush of fabric and see the outline of him through the plastic shower curtain move to pick up the dress you had been wearing.

“Dress was nice.” His voice is low, a quiet rumble that washes over your skin much like the shower, though goosebumps sprout up despite the heat of the water.

“I’m not in the mood for games, Miller.” Sighing, you reach for the shampoo, the scent of sandalwood and amber wafting in the steam that fills the room.

“I’m bein’ serious. Looked good on you. Different.” The effect his words on you, his attempt at an actual conversation is one of heat blooming in your middle. He’s so goddamn handsome and it’s a shame he’s such an asshole, molded by the circumstances of the fallen world. He seems to take your words in stride, his mood nothing but calm as the shower continues to rain down on you.

“Everything seems to be different these days.”

“Can be a good thing, sometimes.”

“Can be.” You watch through the clear curtain, dappled with beaded water. He’s shrugging out of his dark green button up. The fabric hushing as it reveals his skin to you for the second time. His chest is dusted with dark hairs, the silver threading through it catching the sunlight filtering into the bathroom.

“Don’t mind, do you?” The clink of his belt and the unzipping of his pants.

“Not particularly, no.” He’s already stepping into the stall, his broad body taking up what little room was left and crowded the space. But it doesn’t feel like he’s cornering you, it feels almost…intimate in the way that his eyes are taking in the form of your body slick from the water and foamed up bubbles trailing down where they drip from your hair. “Just didn’t think you’d be the one to seek me out next.”

Tangling his fingers into your hair, he dips your head back to wash the shampoo from the long tresses.

“There was no need for me to be so…biting last night. I don’t know how to do the whole- talking thing these days. And you have to admit, we don’t do much of that with each other already.”

“They’ll work with us, Frankie is a good man.” You reach for the shampoo again, reaching up with the thick liquid cupped in your hand to lather it into his bowed head. His hair is as soft as you always thought it was, thick curls dark with the weight of the water saturating it.

“Sharing a past with him helps, otherwise it would be a tense and slow start.” His hands are anchored on your hips, fingers digging into your skin as you don’t dare to look down where you feel him soft against your thigh. The admittance of presence helping isn’t lost on you. He’s not one for praise and it’s intense with how close you are in the stall. You hear the apology for his previous words on the matter in his new ones. Though you are unsure if he believes them, you feel the need to but it is hard to tell as his skin touches yours and ignites your blood. “Tess may have set this whole thing up and he may have convinced Bill for the trades, but you are an asset.”

You hold your tongue, the question of ‘an asset or the orchestrator’ drowning from your mind as he noses along your collarbone, ducking his head further to allow you to wash the suds from his curls. As soon as he looks back up, you’re reaching to brush the water from his eyes, his brows, his scruff, watching the way it sticks to his silver threaded hairs and the memory of it against your skin makes pleasure and desire pool in your core.

His hands are turning your willing body around, and he’s firm where he bumps against the back of your thighs, the plush of your ass as you face the wall. And now you feel crowded, as he presses his front to your back, the way he hinges your hips to meet him, for the way he slips into you in one smooth motion for the first time.

But it’s not a bad feeling, it’s comforting being shielded from the rest of the world in this little stall, his body hiding you away and comforting you all at once. It’s a dangerous thought, even as it’s punched out with your heavy breath carrying a moan as he begins to thrust against you. Heat overtakes your senses, from the pleasure rippling through you to the flushed skin pressed to you to the still running stream of the shower. It consumes you even after you peak, after you feel Joel’s own sear into the backs of your thighs, panting breath matched by him as the moment winds down.

“You didn’t tell him your brother wasn’t alive. Just told him you found him.” He breathes into your shoulder, facial hair brushing over your skin to send tingles down your spine. It’s quiet, the way he seeks an answer instead of demands one.

“He doesn’t need to know.” Is your own whispered response, unable to rise to his words with a truth of your own, a vulnerability.

“Thought he was your friend.”

“He is, but he’s…he doesn’t need to know how things really are. He wouldn’t have let me leave.”

“You say that like he has control over you.” His hands are no longer gripping tight, caressing instead along your sides, feeling the dips and valleys of your body with no intention other than to touch. The urge to return the softness twitches your fingers where they are still planted along the wall for support.

“He doesn’t. But if he asked, I would listen. Because I respect him. Mutual respect.”

He parrots the sentiment back to you, as his large hands grip your waist once again to turn you around face to face. There’s something glinting in his eyes, behind the dark brown of them slowly. “An interesting thought.”

“It is.” You nudge your nose against his, breathing him in, the scent of you both mingling in the air.

And he’s suddenly slotting his mouth against yours, droplets raining down over you both as you surge up to wrap your arms around his shoulders, returning his kiss with earnest. It’s so different from what yo expected kissing him would be life, it’s not rough or biting, it’s almost heartachingly soft in how he pulls you close and touches his lips to yours again and again.

“He’s just so hard to read sometimes, you know? Like…I don’t mean to get too personal considering we just met but,” Tess’s voice carries from a room downstairs, the one you had been given the night before, the one you hadn’t been able to lay in and remain for the entirety of it. She had ducked into it with Frank after breakfast shared at the dining room table. While the eggs had been powdered, the meet hadn’t been and the taste lingers, mingled with that of Joel.

“You can talk to me about anything, the same sentiment for Cane applies to you. We all need friends these days, people we can turn to.” Frank’s comforting voice is genuine as you step closer to the open door without trying to alert them of your presence. Tess hardly opened up about herself, let along about the dynamic between her and Joel. All you ever got out of Tommy was that they were bonded in a way that he understood, shared losses, shared pasts. They would and have killed for each other.

“Well, I’m not quite sure what’s going on, relationships were hard enough before and now…”

“It’s hard for men like Bill and Joel to be honest with what they want, to let their guard down in different settings. You shouldn’t fault yourself if he was too on edge to be with you last night.”

“It’s not that exactly. It was more like he implied he was done with that entire part of…whatever we are.”

“Maybe he’s going through something he hasn’t told you about. He seems like a pretty private guy even if he does have someone like you to talk to and in his life.” Mind reeling, you recall the way Joel had spoken to you the other night. The implication of his words, of his wants, of who exactly he had his eyes on. And then this morning when he had all but rolled over to show you his willingness to give you credit and praise your work.

‘Don’t want Tess.’

‘Mutual relief.’

‘Then clear my head, be a good little lap dog for me.’

Your blood boils, bubbles thick in your veins despite the rather calm and sensual acts you had just shared with the man in question. The worry of him moving on from the woman at his side to yours, where there is more opportunity, more to be gained, more power to be had with the smuggling scene. It’s hard to read him, whether he is truly making a play, a switch. The idea that he is losing interest in Tess in favor or you too big a notion for there to not be anything else woven into the desire. Men tended to seek out those younger than them, though you didn’t think that was the only matter in this case. The thought sticks to the inside of your throat like fuzz, drying it up and making you clear your throat loudly as you approach the doorway head on. You’re determined to undermine it, should that be the reasoning behind his recent behavior.

“Frankie?” You finally step toward the doorway, brushing your hands down over the clean shirt to try and calm your nerves.

“Yes, darling?”

“Could I use your radio, there’s a call I need to make. To set up a smooth return to the zone for us.” You nod to Tess, who doesn’t meet your eyes. As Frank stands from where he was seated on the bed, he brushes a hand over your shoulder. He’s reaching for another box from the top of the closet, the shelf too high for you but easy enough for him. The box is labeled with your name, the real one and he takes a marker from his back pocket and crosses it out. Cane replaces it in that same, simple writing he’s adapted.

“Of course, I’m looking for something, but Bill can help you out.” Frank smiles at you, saying he’ll make sure to send an outfit back with all three of you, worried for the very real act of both Joel and Tess scrounging for their nicest pieces of clothing for the visit. First impressions still meant so much and sometimes it meant the difference between life and death these days. He was a good man, and you’re determined to ensure you can continue to find things he may need use of and build up your stocks should you need to trade for something far more valuable and harder to come by. He was a priority now.

One thing was for certain, you were done allowing Joel Miller to think he had more power than he did.

An asset.

It rings through your mind as you recall the way he approached you in the shower. In the touches burned into your skin, in the way his body moved against your own. He had been there, with you, after telling Tess no. That he didn’t want for the physical any longer with her and it’s dizzying. Trepidation simmers low in your abdomen, upsetting it as it twists the muscles and pulls them taut before they tremble. Akin to the pang of hunger but much, much stronger.

It was your zone, your connections, your reputation that allowed for the smuggling and scavenging to bloom opportunity and trade. You had worked up from literally nothing, having been forced into the zone under false pretenses. The network established by you and your brother after some time, scooped up by the jaws of another hungry dog searching for the next meal to feast on. Only this one wasn’t a simple meal that would fill your belly for a night, it was one that would bring meals day after day and you were done sharing it. Done feeling like an afterthought to the man who was Tess’s counterpart.

The radio is far more advanced than the one set up in the zone, the one that Abe was lucky enough to set up outdated and one of the more military focused models. The soldiers knew he had it, it was hard no to squash the thin string of hope it allowed for all the occupants to stoke as they tried to search for loved ones and family even so long after that first horrific day and all the others that followed.

Bill walked you through how to navigate the signal waves, how to tune it just right to get the ones wafting weakly from direction of the zone. He was still on guard, the gun holstered at his side and his gauging eyes still present. But you felt at ease with him, he was an extension of Frank. He was a good man, that much you were sure of, that much you knew. Frank would be well protected and provided for here, allowed a space to cling to the good parts of who he is. He wouldn’t have lasted in the zone, let alone the pretenses in which you had found yourself able to enter the zone.

“Echo 4236, do you copy?”

“Copy for Echo 4236. Rely your message.”

“This is Ammo 1342, I have an order for you.”

“Ready to receive order, proceed.”

“I need you to hit Building 42, Apartment 19 and 20.”

“Ammo 1342, isn’t apartment 20-“

“It is, proceed. Stash the contents in Building 56, Apartment 14.”

“Copy that Ammo 1342.”

“Echo 4236 signing off.”

Bill is watching you closely, one brow arched as he takes in the smirk on your lips.

“Working together means you guys contact Tess, heed her wills to trade.”

“So, you’re allowing them to think this is still the fruits of her labor.”

“For now. When the time comes, I’ll cut them out and let them be in charge of this trade and only this trade.”

"Just be careful." The sentiment behind his words is not lost on you.

“Before you go,” Frank is guiding you by the shoulders toward the front room the second you visible coming up from the steps of the sub-basement. Bill following behind at a slower pace, content to let Frank do as he wished, the barely contained excitement and sly smile on his lips telling the other man he was happy. The piano comes into view, set up already, dusted off and smelling of lemon oil cleaner.

“Frankie, no.” You don’t even give the man a chance to say anything, the book of sheet music open and waiting.

“Cane, please. It’s been so long since I’ve heard it done justice. Bill does his best, but…too low a tone for the song. This’ll be the last thing I ask of you to recall from our past and if you truly don’t want to, I’ll concede.” As he speaks, the others are walking into the room. Bill, followed by a curious Tess and tense Joel. The word ‘no’ in your voice summoning him where he had been on the back porch with Tess talking over the most likely items to get on the list Frank had written up.

You looked from the piano to him, trepidation obvious, as if the piano were a coiled snake waiting for you to step closer to strike you down. But he looked so soft, so much like the man you remember sitting and painting with for hours in a comfortable silence, the one who had always allowed you the room to create how you wanted.

“Just this once.”

The wooden seat is firm beneath you, and you roll your shoulders a few times, cracking your knuckles to loosen your body up. Taking a deep breath, you glance up from where your hands are hovering over the keys to the music written out. You don’t need it, of course, it was Frank’s favorite song. One you had sung to him at every opening hour of a show in the gallery. The first few pushes of the keys feel unfamiliar, but muscle memory takes over quickly and you’re licking at your bottom lip before parting them.

“Love will abide, take things in stride,” Your voice is smooth and soft, growing emotive and soulful, as it fills the silence of the room and intertwines with the notes of the piano. A hint of twang in your tone as the lyrics pull it from deep inside you, where you buried it long ago. You close your eyes, feeling the sting of tears as the last seven years flash in your mind.

“Sounds like good advice,” You belt out, pitching your voice around the words, allowing for them to surge and swell. “But there’s no one at my side. Cause I’ve done everything I know to try and make you mine. And I think I’m gonna love you for a long, long time.”

You don’t dare to turn around and glimpse the expressions on everyone’s faces, the song filling you up with something you had long forgotten. Your voice carries through the second verse, the third, and then the last cords of the song are echoing in the air as you lift your fingers from the keys. The final note wavering off and silence reclaims the room.

It’s the last thing before you all make your way outside, the sun bright and the breeze cool. Bill is walking alongside Joel, Tess up ahead with Frank. You linger, eyeing the canvas and paint accumulated in boxes around the porch. An agreement made between to the two men who reside here. One giving into the other’s indulgences in only the way a loved one does for their affections.

Rationale and reason for keeping such things for better uses, a means of survival should it come to that lost in the wake of making someone happy.

“Cane, I’m- I’m just so glad that you’re okay.” Frank is suddenly pulling you into an embrace, his hands cradling the back of your head as you instantly return it. His chest is warm where you bury your face into his shirt, just feeling him for a moment, basking in the touch of another you once spent so much time with. “Please, don’t be a stranger. I may not be able to come to you, but you come to me or radio should you need anything.”

“I’m happy you’ve found your person, found a little slice of what life used to be here. The zones, they aren’t, they aren’t a way to live.” As you pull back from him, you see the question in the depths of his eyes, obviously in the way he smiles sadly at you. He wants to ask you to stay and you almost want him to.

Your trio departs with a plan to contact in a week’s time, to set up the first trade of many.

It was obvious that your order had been followed through the second your trio had entered turned from the stairwell to the hallway. The doors leading into both yours and their apartment hang on their hinges, the wood splintered slightly as they wight down the remaining nails keeping them upright.

The second story just high enough to not give any clues away from the view of the windows on the streets. You had made sure to not include your signature of a paw print, not wanting to stir up trouble before felt the need to. The same one you had Tess and Joel stamp onto their portions of goods, always beneath the foil for cigarettes or the plastic bags of pills. Especially on the butts of guns save for the ones you all carried yourselves.

“Fuck, looks like we got hit!” Tess is caught off guard, rushing forward until Joel stops here with a forearm and a small shake of his head. He moves up ahead of you both, the gun tucked into the back of his waistband sliding into his palm as he pushes aside what remains of the doors to the two apartments you occupy.

“They got everything we had stashed away.” His voice is a low rumble, anger and frustration filling the picked over and damaged apartment. He’s already cleared it as you and Tess approach, moving onto yours to clear it as well.

“This is because you showed weakness by working in that whore house!” Joel roars, dark glare focused on you as he appears back in the hallway. A shove of his gun barrel against your shoulder raises your lips in a snarl of argument.

“What I do in my spare time has no effect on the business!”

“It does it people think you’re weak, submitting to them!” He digs the gun into your shoulder again, to punctuate his words.

“Then everyone would be going after you, with how obvious it is you drown yourself in pills and booze until you pass out every god damn night!” You smack the weapon away from you with enough force that he doesn’t do it again, instead it’s hidden back in his waistband. He’s anything but calm as he shouts back at you, no doubt the entire population of the hall is listening against their closed doors.

“That has nothing to do with anything!”

“Then neither does my sparse visits to work somewhere that actually puts food on the table! The people we trade with don’t go there.” You step up into his personal space, the tension in the air thick and so unlike the last time you had done so. His eyes narrow, the brown of then shielded by the darkness of his pupils and the dim hall. The lights have been needing to be replaced for ages, your men following orders taking out the few that had remained working to make the scene.

“If they don’t, then the people that work for them do and tell them.” He doesn’t back down, his chest nearly brushing yours as he breaths in deep.

“Alright, why don’t- why don’t we all just take a breath. We had a good past couple of days, we can’t let this bring us down.” Tess is suddenly between you both, a hand on each of you to further push you apart. But you’re done. Tired and feeling too much after seeing someone who you never thought you would again mentally draining. You’re stepping around them both, their eyes heavy as they watch you walk over to your door.

“Oh, I’m not down about anything. Shit happens. Sometime tried to clean me out the second I took over the zone, it’s part of the game.” With that, you manage to shut the door as best you could.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, was wondering if somebody finally put you down?” The hair on the back of your neck rises as your skin prickles. You knew someone had been following you but you hadn’t expected it to be the man you last laid with the day Joel had caught you nearly two weeks ago. He was never one for conflict or conversation, but today he seemed willing to partake in both.

“Not that I owe you an answer, but I was busy.” Your eyes trace the way he reveals himself from the stooped doorway, the building is abandoned and boarded up. Deemed toxic due to the damage of fumes from the bombing that is evident just outside the walls.

This part of the zone is dilapidated, most of the buildings had been homes or independently owned and run businesses, but now it was the slums. The pleasure house is only a street away but that hadn’t been your intention of coming down here. It had been to retrieve some of the goods ‘stolen’ from you, stashed in an old building very few knew operated as a base for soldiers to reside in for their drug fueled days off from patrol.

“Feel like you owe me a freebie.” He’s bold to step in front of you in that moment, the street empty at the hour that closes the day in the zone.

“Not on your life.” Sidestepping him, you don’t expect him to reach out. He’s strong, his hands clasping in front of you as his front presses against your back. He’s overly hot, the scent coming from his clothes rotten and you thrash in his hold.

“Get her gun!” He’s shouting and you realize he’s not alone. There are four others now surrounding you, having slunk out of the shadows and alleyways. Someone makes a grab for it, where it’s holstered on your hip beneath your shirt. The fingers that graze your stomach are marred with ash and dirt, something you hope isn’t smeared into your skin. The man isn’t very focused, his eyes dipping to catch the flash of skin as he does so and you kick out at his hand.

The gun is knocked away from you the second it hits the broken asphalt of the street, the only weapon left on you is the knife tucked into your boot. But your thoughts are scrambled as your sense of gravity wavers, body suddenly pulled forward. Your forehead knocks into the ground, and you groan out at the feeling of rubble digging deep into the skin there.

“You fuckers!” You shout, hands reaching for the concealed blade as you feel a body pin you down. You don’t manage much as they’re suddenly held down, as are your legs. The feeling of the man above you and four more holding you down kicks your instincts into overdrive.

Surging up as best you can, you knock your head back as hard as possible. The crack of it hitting the man’s face is loud as is his cry of pain. He’s knocked off balance and into the two men holding your legs down.

Careening forward, you bite into the hand of the person putting their weight on your hands, teeth digging and tearing as he tries to pull away with a scream. He’s down and cradling his mutilated hand as you stand and brandish the knife you’ve finally got in your grip. Spitting, chunks of bloodies flesh spray onto the ground and you wipe the back of your free hand over your mouth, only managing to smear the blood further.

It slices into the skin of forearms and cheeks as the three men try to get you pinned back down and under their control with their ringleader tries to stall the bleeding of his broken nose and the whitening of his vision.

The man whose hand you bit reaches for the gun and he fires a shot that has everyone ducking. His aim had failed to help his friends but worked to your advantage as one of the men cries out at the bullet now lodged in his shoulder. The scene freezes, everyone completely caught off guard and you take the moment.

You’re reaching for the gun as he sits shocked and still, the metal rattling from how badly he’s shaking. Quickly forcing it from him and aiming it point blank, he’s slumped over and no longer breathing as you round on the others and fire three more shots.

The man who started all this is pleading, snot and tears running along with blood down his face. He’s spouting nonsense words of apology and to please spare him, that he’s learned his place and he won’t ever try to corner you again. But you don’t care. This man, this piece of nothing man had tried to track you down, to take from you, to assault you, to demean you. The knife in your hand sings for more blood but you’re shooting at him where he stands hunched over and holding a hand over his face.

He falls, hands flying to where his thighs meet his body as he whimpers. The pain of being shot in the groin too intense for him to muster up a scream. You feel a twitch of your lips as you watch him writhe and moan about on the ground, surrounded by the other men. But it’s not enough to soothe you and you’re bringing the knife down harshly as he reaches out to you for help he would never receive. His fingers scatter, and you feel the ease of your anger.

“Don’t come at me again or I’ll take your life too.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Telling them to make payments to you but I still have to go and deliver the goods? Do you have any idea what that makes me look like?” Joel’s voice is loud as his door creaks open, not completely repaired but enough to work for the time being. Something about him needing to find a certain type of glue for wood before he would complete the task.

“Excuse me?” If the blood staining your clothing or the tangled mess of your loosened hair catches his eye he doesn’t show it. Not even the cut above your brow or the stain of blood around your mouth and chin gives him pause and you realize he’s drunk from that and the loosely coordinated way he approaches you.

“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to but now is so not the time, Miller.” You warn, adrenaline still coursing through your body and making you shift on your feet to face him. His steps are loud, the effects of whatever he took showing.

“You listen to me, you little-“

You use the arm he reaches out to grab at you and haul him over your shoulder. The breath in his lungs wooshes out at the contact of his back hitting the floor hard. Before he even has the chance to realize he’s been downed, you’re straddling his stomach and holding the still bloody knife to his throat. He’s more aware of himself as you meet his eyes, the pressure of the blade sobering him up almost instantly.

“You wanna see how I left him, you wanna see what I looked like putting the last fucker down that dared to come after me. Dared to put his hands on me when I said no. Bleeding in the street without his fingers or his dick?” The thump of the man’s detached fingers onto his chest pull his eyes down and away from your own. They widen slightly at the sight of them, the white of the bones you severed stark in the fixed light of the hall. “Try me, Miller, try me and find the fuck out.”

He’s silent, eyes wide and mouth clamped shut. Chest heaving as he takes in the way you’re completely serious and focused on him. The knee you’re digging into his crotch painful for the force behind it and you see fear flash in his eyes. You take it in stride, feeling far more powerful than you had in months.

“That’s what I thought, go sleep off the pills you downed and report back to me tomorrow with payment or replacement.” He grunts as you shove off of him, his body stinging where yours had been on him, his neck feels cool where a few drops of blood form on the shallow cut where the knife had been.

The door shuts behind you, lock clicking in place. He stays there on the ground, heart beating wildly in his chest and his eyes take in the cut off extremities you had thrown at him where they had slid to the floor of the hall. His stomach lurches at the thought of the other one you had mentioned and he’s surging up to empty his stomach onto the faded and worn carpet.

previous chapter || next chapter

taglist: @sawymredfox @tuquoquebrute @orcasoul @itsokbbygrl @keylimebeag

@n7cje @hiddenbabynyc @ameagrice @everythingiwanttoread @furiousmushroom

@vivian-pascal @76bookworm76 @dugiioh @jellybeanxc @littlemisspascal

@undercoverpena @janaispunk @jessthebaker @persephone-girl

@corazondebeskar @harryscum @morgaussy @burntheedges @pascalpvnk

@cavillscurls @joelmillerisapunk @copperhalfcent @blackcatgreengrape

@the-orange-tabby-cat @yxtkiwiyxt @punkshort @cumberpegg

@littlemisspascal @mosssbawls @luxurychristmaspudding @cherrycolouredflunk

@tobethlehem @axshadows @ameagrice @theoraekenslover @mellymbee

@survivingandenduring *shoutout to @the-mandawhor1an for beta reading and @joelmillerisapunk for letting me scream with them while this chapter got finished and edited, thank you so much bbs!

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sepublic · 10 months

Text

It's really surprising to think about it, but it occurred to me that throughout the entire show, amidst all of her accomplishments, we technically never see Luz make a single human friend. This obviously doesn't count her parents, who are blood relations and (should be) friends by default. And it's not as if Luz didn't try, she quite explicitly did, although her attempts were dismissed by everyone else.

I don't think this is really a bad thing at all for Luz, because she has plenty of witch and demon friends, after all, and there's no meaningful existential distinction between humans and the Demon Realm's inhabitants by the end of the day, contrary to what others might claim. Likewise, there's the pretty obvious implication given by Yesterday's Lie that Luz could've made friends at the Reality Check camp, given how well Masha and co. resonated with Vee there and managed to retain their identities.

There's also those two kids (whom I named Mike and Bridget after the crew members they were based on) that invited Luz to the Halloween hayride, although Luz obviously had too much on her mind at the moment to be receptive. I wonder if Luz ever became properly acquainted with them once she started healing during the time skip, as the existence of the Earth and Demon Realm exchange program suggests that other humans have also been introduced to the Boiling Isles.

It's implied that Luz grew distant with Masha and co. after taking Vee's place, on account of technically having never been close to them to begin with; And like with those two kids that invited her, I suspect it had to do with Luz's trauma and the awkwardness of secrets creating a gap between them, in addition to Luz needing to help her friends adjust to Gravesfield. Under other circumstances Luz would've been eager to embrace her fellow weirdoes, but with her guilt over everything (including depriving Vee of her friends, I imagine) it just wasn't the time.

Again, I find the introduction of Masha and co. to be really effective because I think it rattles Luz's sense of self by making her question her decision to stay in the Boiling Isles; Because seeing Vee and her friends just suggests to Luz that maybe the Reality Check camp could've worked out, and she'd have been able to get friends without having to lie to, hurt, and be separated from her mother in the process. Which makes Luz second-guess herself, and in addition to Camila making her promise to stay, causes Luz to begin mistakenly regretting her decisions.

But as we all know, if Luz DID go to the camp, so many terrible things including genocide would've been allowed to happen without her, and so many people would've continued suffering. And she also got to live out her dream of being a witch, which you can't really blame her for attempting when she got the opportunity. What happened already happened and it's not as if Luz can be blamed for it, because how could anyone anticipate the chain of events, and ignore others who certainly did much more, with actual malice, to contribute to the trauma? Luz had to see things the whole way through and she did; Choosing herself helped others, it didn’t hurt them like Luz thought!

Anyhow, it's basically canon that Vee got to reconnect with Masha and co., and more than likely reveal her true nature and history, especially with Gus leading an exchange program she’s part of. So I like to think Luz DID make human friends in Masha and co., as well as the two who invited her to their hayride; I love how they seem to lowkey adore Luz as a fellow weirdo, and tbh, it's not as if Luz needs human friends when she already has human connections, because witches and demons are no less 'real' in terms of being people and all.

But it'd be nice if Luz ultimately found it reassuring, the realization that there were weirdoes in Gravesfield like her, and that she could've been friends with them; Especially if it did happen anyway because Luz chose both worlds and not just one. My point being, we need a lot more content with Luz meeting Vee's friends, and especially hanging out with Mike and Bridget, since we actually saw human strangers like Luz for being Luz!!! They’re canonically fans of Luz from her chaotic reputation (not the one Vee made) and were curious to see if she’d do a crazy costume again like last Halloween!!! And their existence reassures viewers that they needn’t go to another realm entirely to find weirdoes like them, because they exist right here on this Earth!!!

#the owl house #Luz Noceda #meta

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realityscaresme · 27 days

Text

so i wrote a sequel ;)

heyyy wrote a sequel to this little thing, it's setted during weirdmaggedon p.3

spanish version

previous chapter / chapter one

2- Check-mate

Ford was sitting by the crackling fire in the "suite/prison" where Bill was holding him captive, contemplating the chain of events that had led him there. He knew that if he wanted to defeat Bill Cipher, it wouldn’t be possible through conventional means.

Ford had spent years traveling through the multiverse, searching for and researching everything about the demon and his former friend to find out how to stop him once and for all.

And still, he failed.

He was searching for the knowledge needed to stop Bill. Throughout his travels, he discovered that Bill’s greatest weakness was his arrogance and his overconfidence in his ability to deceive others. But there was one thing Bill could never anticipate: someone playing his own game against him. He had never met anyone as sneaky and deceitful as Bill was, perhaps… he could become that person. But he didn’t know where to start.

His mind wandered into the flames of the fire when the suite door opened. Ford instantly became alert. The demon’s visit could never mean anything good.

Bill smiled at him nonchalantly.

“Good evening, Fordsy. How did you sleep?”

Ford didn’t respond; he just looked away at the fire, ignoring Bill. This slightly annoyed the demon. How dare he ignore him? He should punish him for that, but he tried to keep his composure. If he wanted to get Ford back and obtain that equation, he would have to change his strategy. And speaking of strategy, he had an ace up his sleeve.

“Didn’t you miss me? If you were scared of being alone, I could have slept with you and held your hand.”

Bill laughed loudly. Ford cursed him in his mind. Just like Bill himself, he also tried to maintain his composure.

“What do you want now, Cipher? Are you here to torture me again?”

“Was yesterday torture?” Bill asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking. “You seemed to enjoy it quite a bit.”

Ford blushed, and Bill laughed again. He cursed his mind for recalling the kiss they had shared yesterday, Bill’s lips on his. A kiss that he both loved and hated. His mind was a whirlwind, and he tried to think of something else. He couldn’t give in to his desires because Bill was his enemy, and you don’t kiss your enemies in war. Ford had to maintain his role as a captive, even if it disgusted him. But he would do it to keep his family safe and buy time to figure out what he could do.

Bill sat in one of the suite’s armchairs, crossing his legs and looking at Ford with longing. Like a prize he had just won or, to his amusement, his captive princess. Although Bill didn’t see it that way. Ford was destined to be his since the moment they met, only he hadn’t realized it yet. Bill had to open his eyes and show him what they were capable of together.

He knew they were soulmates.

Ford glanced over his shoulder at him, surprised that Bill was smiling even more than usual. The human tensed up immediately, bracing himself for whatever the demon had planned.

“Get to the point. I know you have something in mind. What are you going to do? Rip out my eyes and juggle them? Tear me to pieces? What?!”

The demon laughed at the human’s ideas; they seemed so romantic to him. He snapped his fingers, and a chessboard appeared between them. It was bright and blue: interdimensional chess. Ford hadn’t even noticed that a glowing blue cup of tea had also appeared in his hand.

“Just like old times” his captor exclaimed with a smile. “I didn’t add sugar because I know you take it that way. A bit boring, but oh well.”

Ford cautiously observed the board, standing up and approaching to sit in front of it.

“And what’s the point of this? After all, you can read my mind. You can know what move I’m going to make.”

Bill laughed, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Not anymore. With that plate on your head, I can’t read your thoughts.” He pointed to Ford’s head, where the metal plate blocked Bill’s telepathy.

Ford remembered, it was true. Even though Bill was in his reality, he could no longer read his mind. He looked at the chessboard again, now with interest. Finally, he had an advantage against Bill, even while being his prisoner.

“This can’t be a coincidence... If you have an entire world to destroy, why do you come to see me?”

Bill smiled, looking at the flames in the fireplace.

“I got that strange feeling... What do you humans call it? Oh, yes, nostalgia,” he snapped his fingers when he found the word.

“For playing chess?”

“Not just for that. For talking to someone, to you.” Bill rolled the visible eye in his head. “My friends may be fun, but I could never do this with them.”

Ford stared at him.

“And does this amuse you?”

“Of course!”

“I’m not referring to playing; I mean destroying the world.”

“Oh, that’s just your point of view. But it’s not just about that; it’s also about you. I also told that Gleeful kid, I know he’s in love with Shooting Star. You know how the saying goes: If you love something...”

“... Set it free / - Take it by force,” they said in unison, contradicting each other.

Bill laughed at this; Ford scoffed without humor.

“But anyway, to convince you and make this a bit more fun... we could bet something.”

“A bet?”

“Yes, for example... if you beat me in this game, I’ll let you join the party, so you can get out of this suite for a bit. Get some air, and meet my friends.”

“I accept,” Ford instantly replied, moving one of the pieces on the board.

The demon smiled when Ford accepted his offer and followed his move, then took a sip from his blue tea cup.

As they played, an idea began to form in Ford’s mind. “He can’t read my mind,” he thought. It was the first genuine advantage Ford had had against his rival.

Bill was a master of manipulation, deceit, and lies. To defeat him, Ford would have to beat Bill at his own game. And it wasn’t necessarily chess. He would have to become a liar and trickster as skilled as Bill.

This went against his morals, but... what did it matter? It was that or lose the war.

All or nothing.

While they played, Ford focused on the game, but Bill... got distracted looking at the man in front of him. Bill didn’t know what beauty was according to humans; it seemed to him to be as abstract a concept as art or feelings. He couldn’t fully comprehend them, or well, yes... in his own way. But seeing Ford gave him so much pleasure. Even after 30 years, which to Bill were just moments.

As they played, Bill’s cat-like eye lowered to see Ford’s hand and slightly interrupted his game by taking it gently. Ford didn’t know what he was doing. Would he tear it off? Bite it? Set it on fire?

But without hesitation, Bill kissed it gently. His lips were cold. Ford was surprised.

“I know you always hated them, but... I always liked your hands. They’re so unique.”

Ford didn’t know how to respond.

“You don’t understand, Sixer, I just want a world where people like us feel safe. Where weird is... normal. I was weird in my dimension too.”

“And that’s why you destroyed it?”

Bill gritted his teeth. Ford noticed his irritation.

“I didn’t destroy it; I liberated them. And I did them a favor...”

“And that’s why you want to ‘liberate’ my dimension now?”

“If necessary, yes.”

Bill let go of the man’s hand, leaned back in his chair, his cat-like eyes half-closed as he studied Ford with a bored look. They continued playing, and after a while, Ford won the game, knocking over Bill’s king and facing him.

“Checkmate! It’s always a pleasure to play with you. I’ll let me out of here for a while. Come with me.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bill opened the suite door, letting Ford pass first in a “chivalrous” gesture. They walked down the stone stairs of the suite, where the music grew louder as they approached. “You’ll love it,” Bill assured him. All of Bill’s friends were demons like him. Pyronica and the others looked at Ford with a mix of suspicion and amusement. But Bill, always the gracious host, served drinks for everyone. As he said, it would be a party that never ends with a host that never dies.

“To warm you up.”

The demon snapped his fingers, and a cup appeared in Ford’s hand. Time sand, a drink that didn’t exist in the human world. And it didn’t surprise him... for demons, even the most expensive wine must be nothing compared to this. Ford discreetly swapped it for an empty one, and Bill believed he had drunk it.

“Did you already drink it? Good, I like that!”

“Can I... try more?” Ford lied. Perhaps it would be wise to take advantage of this demon party while everyone was intoxicated.

“Of course, Sixer, whatever you want.” Bill brought his own cup to Ford’s lips.

This time... Ford let him give him a drink. The demon smiled, satisfied, thinking that little by little, he could break him.

Just one sip was enough; it was ambrosia... but Ford restrained himself. He had to stay more alert than ever. This might be his only chance.

Ford took Bill by the waist, surprising him slightly.

“Just for today... I want to let go.”

"I like that, Fordsy…" the demon replied, wrapping his arms around the human's neck.

He almost got lost in those feline eyes; he had to avoid getting too deep into character. Bill stared at him, caressing his face. He hadn't expected Ford to kiss him this time. The demon got lost in the kiss, not noticing how Ford took advantage of the distraction to pour his drink onto the floor, making Bill believe he had drunk it.

Hours passed without him realizing it at that diabolical party where Ford had already integrated with the other demons. Bill was showing him off to the others like a trophy. And at the same time, giving him credit for the portal once again: this wouldn't be possible without him. The genius who had created the interdimensional gate between their worlds.

They both found themselves on a red velvet couch, a bit away from the party. Bill kissed Ford's neck, caressing his leg with his claws. The human allowed himself to be touched, feeling a mix of emotions: pleasure, guilt, hate, desire. All at once. But it had to be this way, for his plan. To gain the demon's trust while plotting his escape.

It was then that, on the floor beneath that velvet couch, he spotted something that caught his attention: a weapon that had been left behind, he could make out... Time Police. He deduced they had been there before; perhaps there was a confrontation, and it was left forgotten. It was perfect, with that he could escape... but not without making a scene, he'd have to create a distraction, but how? Bill was drunk, but even so, he saw everything... He had to be quick before the demon noticed.

Bill interrupted his thoughts, grabbing his face with one hand so he would look at him.

"So... Are you mine again?"

Ford nodded, leaning in to kiss him on the lips. Bill half-closed his eyes in pleasure and let himself go. They stayed like that for a while, Ford almost out of breath. The demon was very drunk and wrapped his arm around Ford's shoulders.

"Then you're also part of my team now. But I'd like to make it a bit more... formal."

"Do you want to get married?" the human joked falsely.

"That too! But I was referring to a deal..." Bill stroked his face, his hand igniting with blue flames that illuminated Ford's face - "You still haven't given me that equation and, well, I don't have all eternity" - he emphasized, snapping his fingers. A spectral blue clock ticking away and urging Ford.

Ford smiled, surprising even himself, and moved closer to the demon. He had to play his own game. It was the only way.

"I agree, let's make a deal."

Bill's eyes opened with delight, and he smiled. He couldn't help but slur his words. Ford was pleased, so much so that he didn't even feel guilty. He had him in the palm of his hand.

"Excellent!"

"With conditions."

"Speak then, I'm aaaall ears," the demon answered, smiling with his almost fangs.

"You'll leave my family alone. And you won't read my mind or get into it. If I'm going to be on your team, you'll get the information directly from me," Ford spoke, smiling almost casually "Because we're partners, right?"

"Much more than that, Fordsy... if I'm the king, then you're my queen," the demon winked at him - "I accept. It's a deal. Until the end of time."

Ford knew he was lying blatantly, but it was the only way. Maybe breaking this deal would cost him his life later... but he didn't care.

They shook hands, their pact glowing with blue flames that tingled slightly. It reminded Ford of the first time he did it and how he sold his soul to the devil. But he still doesn't know what was worse: giving him his soul, his body, or his heart.

"So, would you tell me the equation, my love?" he said the last part with irony.

The demon gently laid Ford back on the velvet couch, getting on top of him, caressing his hair with perverse sweetness. The human took his hand and intertwined his fingers with it. With the other, he grabbed Bill's shirt, pulling him gently closer.

"Yes, Bill. But... come closer."

Bill laughed, delighted with the human's change in attitude. Finally, he was being the way he always should have been: Obedient. Submissive.

His and no one else's.

"Of course, Fordsy. Whatever you say."

The demon brought his face closer to him. Ford lowered his voice even more.

"I don't want anyone else to hear. This is a secret between you and me. Trust me, okay, Billy?"

Bill's eyes gleamed with pleasure as he leaned in closer. He couldn't help but show how much that nickname excited him.

"Of course, Fordsy. I love it when you call me that. So...?"

Ford made an almost sensual gesture with his finger for Bill to come even closer. Meanwhile, with the other hand and without the demon noticing, Ford slowly grabbed the weapon under that couch.

"Just trust me..."

When he had Bill just a few inches away, almost about to kiss him, in a quick movement he shot him in the eye with the Time Police weapon. To blind him, if only for a moment. He didn't flinch when blood splattered on him.

"AHH!" Bill screamed, covering his face in pain.

Ford didn't waste a second, taking advantage of the chaos and commotion at the party to blend in. No one noticed him, as everyone was worried about the now injured host of the party. Amidst all the chaos, Ford destroyed one of the walls: a hole was enough to escape.

The demon, still staggering from the unexpected attack and just regenerating his vision, shouted to his minions

"STOP HIM!"

But it was already too late. Ford had already escaped, leaving Bill in a state of shock and cursing loudly. He threw lightning and thunder around him in a tantrum, almost destroying his own pyramid. Even the other demons were scared to see their boss so furious, with eyes red with rage.

"YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS, SIXER!" the demon roared, his voice echoing throughout the pyramid like thunder.

But Ford was no longer there. His heart raced as he fled. He didn't know if Bill had sent his minions to chase him like hounds after prey. He refused to look back. He had won this round, but the game was far from over. He had to save Dipper, Mabel, and Stan. He had to find his family.

Before Bill found them first."

#billford #bill cipher #gravity falls #ford pines #bill x ford #ford x bill #book of bill #stanford pines x bill cipher #bill cipher x stanford pines

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zapreportsblog · 1 year

Text

A Glimpse of Light

➥ summary : Uramichi Omota comes to work for once genuinely happy, wonder why

➥ a/n : this is the third time I’m writing this, tumblr do better. I see why Uramichi Omota is the way he is now with his outlook on life :)

➥ Uramichi Omota x reader, Life Lessons With Uramichi Oniisan x reader

The alarm clock blared at its usual early hour, and Uramichi Omota, known for his perennially gloomy demeanor, begrudgingly dragged himself out of bed. As the host of the children's show "Together with Maman,” he was accustomed to putting on a bright and cheery façade for his young audience. However, behind the scenes, Uramichi was often a picture of exhaustion and disillusionment.

•••

But on this particular morning, something was different. Uramichi found himself inexplicably energized and with a genuine smile on his face. He hummed a cheerful tune as he prepared breakfast, a stark contrast to his usual grumpy self. His co-hosts and fellow staff members couldn't believe their eyes when they saw him arriving at work with a bounce in his step.

"Hey, Uramichi," one of his co-hosts, Mitsuo, called out, skepticism evident in his voice. "Did you win the lottery or something?"

Uramichi chuckled, a genuine mirth filling the air. "No, I didn't win the lottery, Mitsuo. I met someone, and she's not a complete disappointment."

His colleagues stared at him, jaws practically hitting the floor. Uramichi was infamous for his jaded outlook on life, and his pessimistic comments had become a staple in their workplace. To see him in such a bright and jovial mood was nothing short of shocking.

As they got ready for the day's shoot, Uramichi's newfound energy and positivity permeated the set. The children's show, "Together with Maman,” was usually a hectic affair, with Uramichi guiding the young ones through various lessons and activities. But today, everything seemed to flow more smoothly than ever before.

The children were captivated by Uramichi's animated storytelling and playful interactions. Even the usually rowdy kids were surprisingly well-behaved in his presence. His co-hosts couldn't help but be drawn into his infectious enthusiasm, and the crew found themselves working with a renewed vigor.

During the lunch break, Uramichi's co-hosts gathered around him, curious to know more about the mysterious woman who had managed to brighten his day.

"Tell us about her, Uramichi," Mitsuo prodded, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Who is this magical person that's turned you into a ray of sunshine?"

Uramichi blushed slightly, a rare sight for everyone present. "Well, her name is (y/n)," he began, a soft smile forming on his lips as he spoke about her. "We met at the park yesterday while I was feeding the pigeons."

The others leaned in, eager to hear more about this newfound romance.

"She's kind, caring, and surprisingly funny," Uramichi continued. "We spent hours talking about random things, and it was... refreshing."

"Sounds like she's had quite an impact on you," one of the crew members remarked, genuinely happy to see their usually brooding colleague experiencing a brighter side of life.

Uramichi nodded, his smile growing wider. "Yes, she has. I can't remember the last time I felt this way. It's like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders."

The rest of the day went by in a whirlwind of laughter and genuine enjoyment. Uramichi's co-hosts and the crew marveled at the transformation they were witnessing. The children's show had never been more lively and engaging, and Uramichi's positive energy seemed to be contagious.

As the day came to an end and the set cleared out, Uramichi found himself reflecting on the events of the day. He couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected encounter that had brought (y/n) into his life. For the first time in a long while, he looked forward to the future with a sense of hope and anticipation.

Little did he know that this encounter was just the beginning of a beautiful journey, one that would challenge his pessimistic worldview and open his heart to the possibility of happiness and love. Uramichi Omota had found a glimmer of light in the darkness, and he was determined to cherish it and see where it would lead him.

#Life Lessons With Uramichi Oniisan #Life Lessons With Uramichi Oniisan imagine #Life Lessons With Uramichi Oniisan imagines #uramichi omota #Uramichi Omota imagine #Uramichi Omota imagines #Uramichi Omota x reader #x reader oneshot #x reader one shot #Life Lessons With Uramichi Oniisan x reader #Life Lessons With Uramichi Oniisan masterlist

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queenshelby · 5 months

Text

The Law Student (Rewritten)

Part Five: Sorry

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (20) & Reader (30)

Note: This plays in 1996, just before Cillian drops out of law school.

The following day, you arrived at university early, anticipating the awkward atmosphere between you and Cillian.

Passing through the empty corridors, the silence only accentuated the tension that was building up inside you.

But to your surprise, Cillian was not there.

As you walked into the lecture hall, you did not see his usual spot amongst the crowd, where he would sit with rapt attention, eyes focused on the board, taking in every word that you said.

But instead, an empty seat greeted you and a dull ache settled in your stomach.

The rest of the day went on uneventfully, without any sign of Cillian. And you couldn't help but wonder where he was, if he was okay, and if this was his way of avoiding you after last night's events.

"Hey, Dermont. Do you know where Cillian is today?" you asked his friend who passed you after the lecture . Dermont looked surprised for a moment, but he quickly recovered.

"No one told you?" Dermont asked, brows furrowing together in concern. "He called in sick today. Something about having a cold or something," his friend told you casually, but you couldn't shake off the feeling of worry that had settled in your gut.

"Okay, thanks," you muttered before walking away, heading straight to your office.

Once you had closed the door behind you, you let out a sigh of relief. Your thoughts were racing, and your heart was pounding in your chest.

What have I done? You asked yourself, burying your face in your hands.

You knew that you couldn't deny your attraction to Cillian any longer.

But you also knew that you couldn't let things progress between the two of you. Not while he was still your student and you were his professor.

Your career, your reputation, and your livelihood were at stake, and yet, you couldn't ignore the feelings that had awakened within you. It had been so long since you had allowed yourself to open up to someone, to give in to the whispers of desire that danced in the back of your mind.

But as you sat in your office, draped in shadows, you couldn't help but feel a pang of regret.

You knew that your actions could cost Cillian his education, and the thought of ruining his future made you feel sick to your stomach. It was a gamble that you had taken, and it was one that you couldn't afford to lose.

You knew that you had to talk to Cillian, to make things right between the two of you. But what would you say? How would you explain your actions?

Hoping that he would return to university the following day to also attend his usual tutoring session with you, you found your thoughts drifting to Cillian throughout class, wondering if he was truly ill or if he was avoiding you altogether.

You knew that you needed to address the situation sooner rather than later, to clear the air between you and to reaffirm your commitment to maintaining a professional relationship.

Unfortunately for you, however, he called in sick again that day and the next and, on the third day, you spotted Dermont passing by the hallway again and asked him once more about Cillian's absence.

"He is still sick. He hasn't really picked up my calls either," Dermont informed you , a concerned expression on his face.

"Thanks again. I tend to worry too much," you said, mustering a smile. Dermont returned it warily, and you could see the questions building behind his eyes.

"You know, you might be better off asking Siobhan O'Connor about him if you are worried. She seems to know more about his whereabouts these days," Dermot offered, rolling his eyes as he mentioned Siobhan's name.

His words struck a chord of curiosity in you. "Siobhan O'Connor?" you asked, furrowing your brows in confusion.

"Yeah, they have been on and off for about six months now ," Dermot explained, rolling his eyes again. "I think she went to see him yesterday so she might know how he is," he added, shrugging his shoulders.

This new information took you by surprise, as you had not expected Cillian to be dating Siobhan O'Connor and you certainly could not help but feel a pang of jealousy settle in your stomach. But why did you feel that way? You were his professor, and you had violated the ethical code of conduct by engaging in a sexual act with one of your students.

Nevertheless, you thanked Dermot for his help and told him that you would speak with Siobhan to find out more about Cillian's condition.

The remainder of the day passed by in a blur as you went about your duties, attending various meetings and marking papers, all the while your mind stayed preoccupied with thoughts of Cillian.

You could hardly focus on anything else, as questions and doubts swirled in your mind like a tempestuous storm. Had you truly let things progress so far? Had you lost yourself in the fog of passion, that the lines between student and professor had become blurred? The more you pondered on it, the more guilty you felt.

When you eventually returned home that evening, you found solace in a bottle of red wine. You poured yourself a generous glass, and settled in the corner of your living room which is when, suddenly, the doorbell rang.

You weren't expecting anyone, and the sudden interruption caused you to jump in surprise. Setting down the wine glass, you cautiously approached the door and peeked through the spyhole to see who it was.

Outside stood your best friend Emma and it dawned upon you that you had forgotten about your girls night out that evening.

Quickly, you straightened your disheveled appearance and opened the door wide, brushing aside any lingering thoughts of Cillian.

"Emma, hi! Sorry, I got sidetracked," you said half-heartedly as you gestured for her to enter.

Emma eyed you suspiciously but didn't press further, taking a seat on the couch.

"You aren't even dressed yet?" Emma asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow as she glanced around the messy living room. "I thought we were meeting the girls in an hour?"

"Shit," you muttered, suddenly remembering your plans. "I completely forgot. Give me five minutes." You turned and dashed towards your bedroom, knowing that you had a lot of damage control to do.

You quickly changed into a fitted pair of jeans and a nice shirt with matching boots , styling your hair into loose curls that cascaded down your shoulders. After applying some blush and lipstick, you took a deep breath and rejoined Emma in the living room, feigning a cheerful attitude.

"All right, let's go!" you exclaimed, pretending everything was fine.

You left your apartment and arrived at the trendy bar where your friends already waited for you. They were all chatting and laughing, and you tried to push your worries aside, joining their conversation and ordering another drink.

You even managed to enjoy yourself for a while, forgetting about the situation with Cillian and your guilt over crossing the line.

But as the night wore on and your friends began to disperse, leaving only you and Emma behind, the nagging doubts resurfaced.

"Is everything okay?" Emma asked, eyeing you with concern as she sipped on her cocktail.

"Yes, I am fine. I am just tired. It has been a long week," you lied but, when a familiar face appeared in the crowd, you realized that you were far from being fine. Cillian was standing by the bar, talking to a tall brunette, and what you assumed to be her friends. Dressed casually in jeans and a hoodie, he looked as handsome and reserved as ever, and your heart skipped a beat as you watched him from afar.

However, you couldn't shake off the feeling that the universe was testing you - forcing you to confront a situation you had hoped to avoid.

"Excuse me a second," you said to Emma, excusing yourself from her company.

Your heart was thumping wildly in your chest as you approached Cillian, who hadn't noticed you yet.

As you neared him, you observed the way the soft lighting illuminated his wavy hair and emphasized the striking blue of his eyes. It was unfair, really, how attractive he was – how effortlessly he could command attention and admiration from those around him. You silently scolded yourself for allowing such thoughts to distract you – after all, he was still your student and nothing more.

But as you reached him, your resolve waivered.

"I thought you were being sick?" you said, your voice barely above a whisper. Cillian turned towards you, a surprised look on his face.

"Shit, hey," he said, his eyes widening as realization dawned upon him. "Yeah, I mean, I was sick, but I'm feeling much better now," he stammered, and it was obvious to you that he was lying,

The tension between the two of you was palpable, and you could feel the questioning looks of his companion and the nearby patrons as they took note of your presence. You immediately regretted your decision to approach him, but it was too late to turn back now.

"Look, I was worried about you," you confessed, attempting to reconcile your conflicting emotions. "After what happened the other night, I - " you began to say before being cut short by Siobhan's sudden presence as she returned from the bathrooms.

"Miss Y/LN," she greeted you, a hint of hesitation in her tone as she noticed the awkward atmosphere between you and Cillian. "How are you?" she asked politely while reaching for Cillian's hand , effectively breaking the tense moment.

"Uh, I'm good," you replied to her question. "How about you?" you asked, shifting your gaze towards Siobhan. Her smile faltered for a brief moment before she responded.

"I'm great, thanks for asking," she said, gaze flicking between you and Cillian. You couldn't help but notice the possessiveness in her tone.

She then proceeded to give Cillian a quick kiss on the cheek and, just as she did, you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy stirring inside you again. It was ridiculous, really, given the circumstances of your relationship with Cillian, but you couldn't help the way you felt.

"Well, I should be going," you said, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice.

You gave them a small smile and then turned around, hurrying towards the bathrooms to collect yourself.

The night had taken a surprising turn, and you needed a moment to gather your thoughts before returning to your friend Emma again.

Closing the door behind you, you let out a sigh as you leaned against the sink.

Why did you feel so unsettled by the sight of Cillian with Siobhan? Yes, there was an undeniable spark between you two, but you knew better than to indulge in it.

You were his professor, for god's sake!

However, you couldn't shake off the lingering feelings of jealousy that had taken root in your heart.

As much as you tried to deny it, the thought of Cillian with Siobhan was like a thorn in your flesh, causing an uncomfortable twinge in your chest. You knew that it was foolish to harbor such feelings, yet you couldn't help but wonder if things could have been different between you and Cillian if only you had handled the situation differently.

***

The following Monday, following a booze filled weekend, you walked into the student hall with a heavy heart. You couldn't stop thinking about Cillian and Siobhan and when you saw them both again, sitting together, sharing an intimate moment - it was like a dagger to your heart.

You refused to make eye contact with Cillian, afraid of the emotions that would surface. You powered through your lesson, focusing on teaching and not on the ache in your chest.

But despite your resolve, you couldn't deny the pull you felt towards Cillian. You wanted to talk to him, to apologize for what had happened between you both, but you knew you couldn't. It was against the rules, and you had already crossed that line once.

After class, you busied yourself with grading papers and preparing for your next lecture as, eventually, you heard a knock on your office's door.

"Come in," you called, assuming it was a fellow teacher but, instead, it was Cillian, looking anxious and unsure of himself.

"Can I talk to you?" he asked softly, eyes pleading.

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. Finally, you nodded and motioned to the empty seat in front of your desk.

Cillian sat down, wringing his hands. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the tension between you palpable.

"I'm sorry," Cillian murmured finally, breaking the silence.

His apology caught you off guard, and you blinked at him in surprise. "What are you sorry for?" you asked, genuinely puzzled.

Cillian glanced down at his hands before meeting your gaze once more.

"For everything," he said simply. "For making a move on you," he clarified, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart stuttered in your chest, the sincerity in his voice hitting you like a tidal wave.

"Cillian, it's not your fault," you insisted, speaking just as quietly. "I could have stopped you."

"But you didn't," he replied, his eyes searching yours. "And to be honest... I'm glad you didn't. I mean, I didn't regret what we did. I am just sorry for, like, making a move on you and putting you into an uncomfortable situation," Cillian explained to you, looking guilty.

You didn't want him to feel bad, because deep down, you knew that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. But you couldn't bring yourself to tell him that, because you knew that it was against the rules, and it would only cause more heartache in the future.

"I don't blame you, Cillian," you said, searching for the right words to say. "It's just that, we both need to forget about what happened . It was a mistake. Despite, you probably are better off with Siobhan. She seems nice." You offered, not wanting to admit to him that the thought of Cillian and Siobhan together filled you with an intense, irrational sense of jealousy. You couldn't help the nagging thought that he belonged with you, not her.

Cillian frowned, his eyes clouded with confusion. "I guess," he said, not sounding convinced. "I just can't stop thinking about you," he whispered. "And I don't really care about Siobhan. She's not you."

Your heart stuttered in your chest, but you pushed down the flutter of excitement that threatened to rise within you.

"Cillian, this is wrong," you said firmly, trying to keep your voice steady. "We need to focus on your studies. That's what matters here," you insisted, trying to reason with him. "Besides, I'm your professor, and you're my student. We have to maintain a certain level of professionalism."

Cillian sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know," he said, looking defeated. "But I can't help how I feel. And I don't think you can either."

His words lingered in the air, hovering between you like an unspoken truth that neither of you was willing to acknowledge.

"Cillian," you began, but your voice trailed off, uncertain of what to say next. "This can't happen again. It just can't."

Fleetingly, you wondered if you were just trying to convince yourself more than you were trying to convince him. Your heart was pounding heavily in your chest, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. Cillian held your gaze, his beautiful blue eyes searching your face as if looking for some hidden answer.

"But why not?" he asked softly. "I am not going to tell anyone if that's what you're worried about. It's just between you and me. I've been thinking about it ever since that night."

"Enough. Please," you interjected, your voice wavering slightly. The intensity of his gaze left you feeling bare, exposed. "Please leave, Cillian ," you said, averting your gaze again. "We can't do this."

Cillian seemed taken aback by the finality in your voice. "All right," he agreed, a hint of sadness in his eyes. But before leaving, he turned back to you and added, "But just know that this isn't over. I won't give up on you that easily."

You swallowed hard, unable to respond. Cillian left the room, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts and swirling emotions.

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy imagine

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scoonsalicious · 4 months

Text

Reminder: I am on a posting break for new content until May 23rd so that I can focus on writing WFLT...

In the meantime, please enjoy this third installment of Unwanted: Unusables, or, chapters from the original story that never made it to the final draft. Today, we're looking at an alternate Chapter 7: (what would become) Unburdened. This draft immediately follows the events of yesterday's Unusable.

I ended up scrapping this entire version of the chapter, because I decided to go in a different direction in Chapter 5, so everything had to be redone. But, it has one of my favorite scenes-- Girls' Night, so I'm glad that I could eventually share it with you, besties!

Enjoy!

When you woke up the following morning, you felt lighter than you could remember feeling in a long, long time. It was as if the maelstrom of agitation that had been coursing through you since Bucky first saw Jade's profile had finally abated, and you were waking to the calm following the storm, everything feeling newly cleansed by the rain.

Granted, your head was killing you with a tremendous hangover, but your soul felt lighter, and that's what should count the most, right?

You stretched, reaching out for Bucky, but finding only empty sheets where his body had been the night before. With a frown, you craned your head to see if he was in the bathroom, but no-- the door was open and the room beyond it dark. Against your will, you felt the weight of your insecurities begin to hover over you once again. Perhaps it was time to talk to Tony to see if you could borrow his Dr. FRIDAY therapy program for yourself. You were definitely in need of some kind of professional help.

Drawing your knees up to your chest, you contemplated whether or not you should change out of Bucky's shirt before you trekked back across the hall to your own room so you could mope. The odds of anyone seeing you were slim, since you were still the only two people living on this floor, but there was no guarantee someone wouldn't be around looking for either one of you. You wondered what would have people talking more-- the sight of you in only Bucky's shirt, or you leaving his room in the clothes you'd worn the night before. Not that it really mattered, you supposed. You were fairly confident from the team's reactions at dinner last night that the majority of them knew the two of you were having sex, or at the very least suspected it, anyway.

Before you could make your decision, however, Bucky's door opened and he walked in, carrying a breakfast tray laden with bacon and eggs and an overly-large water bottle.

"You're up," he said, smiling as he closed the door behind him. "I was hoping I'd be back before you woke, but I figured you could use some sustenance for what's probably a major hangover." He slid the tray onto the bed before crawling back in next to you.

"Did you seriously bring me breakfast in bed, Barnes?" you asked, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. That was beyond adorable of him.

"'course I did," he said, picking up a slice of bacon and taking a bite. "Figure your head's got to be killing you, since you never drink that much. Here." He unscrewed the cap from the water bottle and passed it to you. "Electrolytes. Drink up." You took a swig of the lemony-lime flavored Liquid IV he'd prepared for you.

"Thank you," you said. "This is incredibly sweet, but I could have gotten up to get breakfast myself; you didn't have to go to all the trouble."

"I confess, my motives aren't that altruistic," he said, running his tongue over his bottom lip. "I have no intention of letting you get out of this bed at all today, and I figured you should have at least something in your stomach before I launch my nefarious plan." His eyes twinkled with mischievous intent, making your heart flutter in anticipation.

"Your nefarious plan, huh?" Your eyebrow arched in curiosity as you took another bite of bacon, cooked extra crispy, exactly the way you liked. "And what might that be?"

"Well," he started, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper as he leaned closer to you, his breath tickling your ear.

"Since I was an absolute ass and made you feel like shit yesterday, I had hoped I could spend today making you feel good. I could lie and say I planed a day spent snuggled up together watching movies, but in reality I was thinking we could explore the possibility of other more... intimate activities."

A blush crept over your cheeks as you met his gaze. The promise lingering in his icy blue eyes sent a thrill down your spine, making you momentarily forget about the pounding headache. "That sounds...enticing," you admitted. "You have my attention."

"Good," he grinned, his thumb gently brushing against your lower lip. "Because I also remember a promise made to fuck you until you couldn't remember your own name."

The heat that instantaneously flooded your cheeks at his words made you glad you hadn't bothered changing out of his shirt, after all. You tried to play it cool, to match his relaxed nonchalance, even as your heart pounded like a drum within your chest.

"I do seem to recall you saying something to that effect last night, now that you mention it," you said, trying to sound casually thoughtful in spite of the tidal wave of arousal that was rushing throughout your body.

Bucky nodded, the smile on his face growing wider by the second. "Let it never be said that I'm not a man of my word." You turned, leaning in to kiss him, but he pulled away from you. "Nu-uh, doll," he tsked. "You need to hydrate and protein-load first, then I'll ruin you."

"I dunno, Buck," you contemplated as you dug into a forkful of scrambled eggs. "You may have already ruined me. I could get used to this kind of treatment real fast."

"Sweetheart, if one breakfast in bed has ruined you, you've been spending all your time with the wrong kind of man," he drawled.

"Well, I think we both know that's the understatement of the year," you laughed.

Bucky chuckled, a hearty sound that reverberated through the room and eased any lingering insecurities that had arisen when you woke up alone. He was right; you were spending time with the right kind of man now. You turned to find him watching you with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmured, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch was gentle, sweet, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

You found yourself blushing again, quickly turning your attention back to the breakfast tray in an attempt to hide it. "Says the man who looks like he fell straight off a GQ cover," you teased lightly.

Even though his smile never wavered, there was a depth to his gaze that made your heart race. "Noticed that, did you?" He asked, his tone teasing as he took another bite of his bacon.

It was your turn to chuckle now, the sound soft and full of warmth. "Maybe once or twice," you said with a shrug.

"I ever tell you you make make grateful I fell off that train?"

Your heart momentarily stopped at his words. You looked at him, really looked, and saw the sincerity in his eyes. His tone was so casual, as if he were commenting on the weather, but the weight of his words were monumental.

"What?" you managed to gasp out, completely thrown off balance, breakfast momentarily forgotten.

He chuckled softly at your bewilderment, his fingers reaching out to gently caress your face. "I shoulda been dead long before you were ever even born, doll. Fallin' off that train, becoming the Winter Soldier, it was hell, but if it'd hadn't happened, I never would of gotten to meet you. That's made it all worth it."

You stammered, trying to find words that could match the intensity of the moment. "Bucky... That's..."

"True," he finished for you, his gaze steady on yours. "You are my silver lining, sweetheart. The best thing this twisted life has given me."

Your eyes filled with tears at his heartfelt admission. This was Bucky - raw and open-hearted - sharing something profoundly personal with you.

"Bucky... I..." You struggled to form a sentence that could properly encapsulate how you felt in the moment, so instead, you took the breakfast tray and put it up on the bedside table. Turning back to face him, his expression curious, you cupped his cheek in the palm of your hand. If you couldn't tell him what his words meant to you, you'd show him.

"I think I'm done with breakfast," you whispered, pulling him in for a kiss.

His lips moved against yours with devastating slowness. There was nothing rushed or fevered about the kiss, but it was no less all-consuming.

He responded immediately, drawing you closer and wrapping his arms around your waist and maneuvering you until you straddled his lap. His large hands roamed along the curve of your lower back, pulling you against him until there was no space left. The contact made your head spin and your body heat up in places that made you shudder with anticipation.

His taste was as delicious as his touch; a combination of coffee, bacon, and something distinctly Bucky that made your senses reel. His tongue slipped into your mouth, tangling with yours in an intimate dance that left you breathless and wanting more.

As the kiss deepened, you could feel every hard line and muscle of Bucky's torso pressed against your own. His heart pounded in sync with yours, the rhythm picking up as the kiss escalated from sweet to passionate. The sensation made you dizzy with longing.

You reached up to tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging lightly at the strands. A low growl rumbled from Bucky's chest at the action, sending a thrill of lust coursing through you. His response was immediate, his lips leaving yours to trail hot, wet kisses down your neck. His teeth grazed your skin, making you gasp in pleasure.

"You're mine," he said, his voice a primal growl that echoed in the otherwise silent room. His possessiveness was as thrilling as it was unexpected. You nodded, unable to form words as desire clouded your mind.

"Yours," you managed to gasp out, the word coming out as a half-sigh, half-moan as Bucky's fingers danced down the length of your back, causing goosebumps to rise in their wake.

His hands moved with a purpose, tracing paths of fire along your skin. Every touch was measured and precise - he knew exactly what he was doing and how it affected you.

It was almost too much to bear - this closeness, the intimacy of his words. It was overwhelming and wonderful all at once. Bucky's touch was like an incantation, a spell that had you completely entranced.

The world narrowed down to just the two of you. The crisp sheets beneath you, the cool morning air filling the room, everything felt insignificant compared to the heat radiating from Bucky's touch, from his gaze. You were lost in him, and it was a sensation you never wanted to quit.

His fingers dipped lower, trailing up the hem of the shirt you wore. A shiver coursed through your body as his cold metal digits met the warm bare skin of your stomach. You gasped audibly, your back arching slightly.

"Sensitive?" Bucky teased, a smirk playing on his lips. His fingers continued their tantalizing exploration, circling around your navel before moving upward.

"You have no idea," you managed to breathe out between gasps. Every nerve ending was on fire, your senses heightened by Bucky's seductive touch. His fingers traced a path up your body, fingertips lightly grazing the underside of your breasts. You bit your lower lip, stifling a moan. Bucky noticed, his ocean blue eyes darkening with a hunger that mirrored your own.

"Good," he murmured, leaning down to press his lips to yours once more. This kiss was different, though - more demanding, more intense. He claimed your mouth with a burning passion that left you breathless and craving more.

His metal hand moved from your stomach to cup your breast through the thin fabric of the shirt. His touch was electrifying; every stroke sent shock waves coursing through you straight to your core. You moaned into his mouth, arching into his touch.

Bucky pulled away slightly, his gaze sliding down to where his hand was on you. "You like this?" he asked in a low, husky voice.

"So fucking much," you admitted, reaching up to grasp the back of his neck and pull him back down to your lips. You kissed him with abandon, pouring all the pent-up desire you had been feeling into the action. His groan of pleasure was muffled by your mouth, further stoking the flames of your desire.

His hand kept up its unhurried exploration, fingers finding a hard nipple through the shirt, brushing over it in slow circles. The sensation made you whimper, pulling away from his lips to gasp for breath.

His eyes were filled with a wicked gleam as he took you in, his gaze heated and full of desire. It made your heart beat faster and your body ache with need. In that moment, you wanted nothing more than to melt into him completely.

"Bucky," you whispered, the sound coming out as a high-pitched plea. His touch was driving you wild, making it difficult for you to think straight.

"Hmm?" His voice was rough with desire, his breath fanning across your face.

"I... I need..." you trailed off, unsure of how to put your needs into words. You've never wanted someone this much; it was disorienting.

His lips curled up into a smirk again, understanding flashing in his blue eyes. "I know what you need, doll," he murmured against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. His hand slipped underneath your shirt, skin on skin contact causing you to gasp out loud. His touch was demanding, taking and giving pleasure in equal measure.

His fingers traced the contours of your body, causing your nerves to sing with exhilaration. Playing your body like an instrument he'd long ago mastered. He skillfully made his way to the apex of your legs, his fingers just ghosting over the sensitive skin there.

"Does this feel good?" he asked in a low growl, his voice rough with need. His fingers dipped lower, hooking into the waistband of your panties and pulling them down slightly.

Your heart pounded in anticipation as you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak as desire coursed through your veins. His eyes never left yours - an intense gaze filled with passion and unspoken promises.

His hand moved lower still, slipping beneath your waistband. A breathy moan slipped past your lips as his fingers touched you where you wanted him most.

His fingers were cool against your heated skin, and the contrast sent sparks through your body. You couldn't help but shift against his touch, seeking more.

"Bucky," you whispered again, this time in a desperate plea. His smirk widened at your response to his touch as he rubbed slow circles around your most sensitive area. You reached down to wrap your fingers around his wrist as he teased you. He watched you carefully, taking in your every reaction and using it to heighten your pleasure.

"You're so beautiful like this," he said in a low murmur, his voice filled with raw need that caused your pulse to flutter. He continued his slow exploration, dipping a single metal digit into your heat, causing you to gasp at the intrusion.

"Yes... Bucky," you stammered out, your voice barely above a whisper. The slow stretch of his finger inside of you sent fire shooting through every nerve ending. Each stroke of his hand was perfectly orchestrated as if to bring you the greatest amount of pleasure possible.

"Shh, I got you, doll," he reassured you, his voice low and thick with wanting. His pace didn’t quicken; instead he kept a slow, torturous rhythm that had you squirming.

You could feel the tension building within you, spiraling up from the pit of your stomach. The pressure increased with every skilled stroke of Bucky’s fingers until you felt like you were on the edge of something monumental. Your breath hitched, and your grip on his shoulders tightened to the point where you were sure it would leave marks.

You wanted to look at him, wanted to see his face as he watched you unravel under his touch, but your eyes were squeezed shut, the tension mounting within you too intense to bear otherwise.

"Look at me," Bucky commanded huskily, his voice sending shivers down your spine. You obeyed instantly, forcing your eyes open to meet his dark blue gaze. The raw desire there took your breath away. "That's it," he murmured approvingly, his fingers continued their exploration, every touch igniting a flame that threatened to consume you completely.

"I want you to come for me," he growled, pressing harder against the sensitive bundle of nerves at your core. You whimpered at his words, the knot in your stomach tightening further. His command added another layer of intensity to the already building climax.

Your body tensed and you gasped audibly as waves of euphoria crashed over you. Your mind went blank and your vision blurred as the orgasm hit you with full force. All you were aware of was Bucky; his intense gaze, his fingers relentlessly driving you through your climax, and his voice murmuring words of encouragement.

"Good girl... that's it. Let go," he coaxed, his rough voice a thread anchoring you in the storm. As the tremors began to recede, he slowed his movements, easing you through the aftershocks.

Your senses slowly returned, and you were left gasping for breath, your heart pounding wildly. You were still clutching his arm, your grip loose now but no less desperate. His touch was intoxicating, a heady mix of pleasure and need that left you craving more.

Bucky eased his hand away from your core. His gaze was steady on your face, watching as you tried to regain your bearings. His eyes softened as he took in your flushed face and disheveled hair.

He pulled you closer, wrapping his arm securely around your trembling form as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. There was a tenderness in this gesture that moved you deeply, causing tears to pool in your eyes.

"Bucky..." you murmured, turning your face further into his chest. He hummed a quiet acknowledgement in response, his fingers beginning to draw soothing patterns on your back.

"Yes, doll?" His voice was still rough, but the edge of raw need had smoothed out. Now it was gentle and filled with warmth and affection that had not been so evident before.

"You...you're..." You found it difficult to articulate what you were feeling right then. It was overwhelming - the intense euphoria from the pleasure he'd given you combined with the burgeoning emotions that threatened to spill over.

He seemed to understand regardless. "I know," he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple. "I know."

There was an unspoken agreement between you both then; an agreement that this casual arrangement you had entered into all those months ago had transcended into something far deeper, far more meaningful, than either one of you had ever anticipated.

You sat together in silence for a while, foreheads pressed against each other as you regained your composure, breathing in each other's breath. When your limbs had finally stopped shaking and your pulse had evened out, you met his gaze.

"Buck, we have a problem," you murmured, sliding your cheek against his, the rough stubble tantalizing against your skin.

He nuzzled into your face. "What's that, doll?"

You pulled back to look him in the eye, a wicked glint in your gaze. "I seem to still be able to remember my name."

He reached for the hem of the shirt you'd borrowed and pulled it up over your head and tossed it to the floor. "Honey, I haven't even begun to fuck you yet." With a wolfish grin, Bucky picked you up and maneuvered you so that you were lying on your back, his form hovering above you. His drew his head down to your breast, taking it into his mouth and sucking long and hard on your nipple.

"Oh, fuck, Bucky," you moaned, arching your back and pressing your chest further into his eager mouth. He devoured you like a man starving.

You lost yourself to the sensation as he continued his ministrations, and it wasn't long before he had once again reduced you to a whimpering mess. Time itself lost all meaning as he brought you over the edge over and over and over again. Finally, after what seemed like hours, you were sobbing with over-stimulation and the sheer intensity of what you felt for him.

After he'd finished inside of you for the second time, Bucky leaned over you, planting feather-light kisses along the planes of your face. "What's your name, doll?" he asked, voice husky.

You tried to answer, but no coherent thought would come to you; all you could do was pant as you tried to focus and re-center yourself.

He had done it. The man had fucked you until you'd forgotten your own name.

And you absolutely loved him for it.

The days that followed were some of the very best of your entire life. If you weren't training or working (well, okay, plenty of times when you were working), Bucky had you on your back. Or bent over a desk, or up against a wall, or down on all fours. Several times, he had sat you on his face, your hands gripping on to the headboard for dear life as his tongued probed as deeply into your cunt as he could get it. You had fucked in so many positions, in so many places, you were sure the entire Tower knew what you were doing. Not that you cared; you were head over heals in love with the man, and you were fairly confident he felt the same about you.

It was just that neither one of you had actually spoken the words.

So secure were you in this new connection with Bucky that it didn't even phase you when Tony announced one afternoon that Jade Carthage had officially accepted a three-month probationary appointment with the Avengers, and would be moving into the Tower in just a few days time.

"Okay, Pocket, what gives?" Nat asked you. Girls' Night had come around again, and the two of you, along Wanda, were set up in the common room, working your way through two large pizzas and a couple of orders of mozzarella sticks. Pepper was unfortunately on the West Coast, away on some official Stark Industries CEO business. "Tony announces Jade's imminent arrival and you don't even blink."

You shrugged your shoulders as you popped half a mozzarella stick into your mouth. "I'm not worried about her anymore," you told them. "I mean, I still don't like her, and we're not going to be best friends, but Bucky and I are in a good place." You paused and gave them a knowing look. "A really good place."

"So you are sleeping together!" Wanda leaned back, lifting her feet off the floor and kicking them in delight. You ducked your head, trying to stifle the smile and hide the blush that bloomed across your face. "Okay, I have so many questions! First of all, how long has this been going on? Second, what' it like? You know, his..." she tiled her eyes down. "Third, how is it? It's got to be so good, right? I mean, look at him!"

"Slow down!" you laughed. "God, Wands, should we change your name from Scarlet Witch to the Sokovian Horndog? Cause damn, girl!"

It was Wanda's turn to blush. "I'm sorry; I've just wanted this for you for so long, I can't stand it!" She stood up and threw herself at you, wrapping her arms around you in a tight hug, which you gladly reciprocated.

"Thanks, sweetie," you said with a laugh.

"Thanks later, answers now," she told you, pulling back from you to lean against the arm of the couch.

"Oh, I got this," Nat said, grin plastered across her face. "Let's see... One: four months, since the night he got back from his first mission. Two: She's called him Magic Dick, to his face. And three: Sometimes, when they're done, she can't even walk." She turned to you. "That about cover it?" You laughed, nodding your head.

"Yeah, that basically covers it," you said with a grin.

"I cannot believe this has been going on for four months and you both kept it from me," Wanda said with a pout. "I have been shipping the two of you for over a year, and this is how you repay me?"

"We weren't telling anyone, Wands," you said, trying to placate your friend.

"Oh, I'm too excited for you to be actually mad at you," she confessed. "So, you two a legitimate couple now, or what?"

You paused, biting your lip in consideration. "Well, no? I mean, it started as this completely no-strings-attached, casual sex, friends-with-benefits thing, but the morning after the dinner disaster, he told me that I made him grateful he fell off the train and--"

"I'm sorry, he said what?!" Nat interrupted at the same time Wanda grabbed a throw pillow and screamed into with with excitement, kicking her feet once more.

"Pocket," Nat continued grabbing your arms and shaking you, "for Barnes, that's practically a declaration of undying love!"

You scrunched your shoulders in glee. "I know!" you squealed, not being able to help how exhilarated the idea made you feel.

"And then what did you say?" Wanda asked.

You dropped your shoulders. "Um... well, I didn't actually say anything."

Wanda's eyes went wide. "So you just left him hanging there after he said that?" she asked, incredulous.

"No! I absolutely replied!" you insisted. "Just... not with words. It was more of a... physical response."

Wanda and Nat shared a look. "Okaaaay," they both said in unison before the three of you burst into laughter.

"Pepper is going to be so pissed she missed this," Wanda said, pulling out her phone to text your missing friend. "Though she'll probably be more angry about losing the bet."

"The bet?" you asked, confused.

"Oh, I bet her $100 that you two would end up together before your birthday," Wanda said with a grin as she texted away. "Pepper thought it wouldn't happen until night of, or after."

You tossed a pillow at her, knocking her phone from her hands. "Hey!" she cried out.

"That's what you get for betting on your friends' love lives," you told her, though your voice held no heat. If anything, it was weirdly sweet. Except... "Wait, is it super bizarre that Pepper's making bets on my sex life when she's technically my boss?" you asked.

"Yeah, you going to HR with that complaint?" Nat asked, laughing at the face you made. Her laughing set Wanda off, which set you off in turn, and soon the three of you were in hysterics.

"Damn, we too early for the panty pillow fight?" a voice from across the room caught your attention, and you looked up to see Sam, Steve, and Bucky standing in the doorway.

God, Bucky looked so good. He was wearing a Henley and a pair of jeans, but damn it if it wasn't doing things to you. You flashed him a giant smile. "Hey, Buckaroo," you said, your voice coming out far huskier than you intended it to.

"Don't engage, Pocket," Nat murmured. "They'll think think it's an invitation to come join us." But it was too late; the boys had already begun walking over to where you sat, Sam immediately grabbing a slice of pizza and digging in.

"Hey, doll," Bucky said, leaning over you and placing a kiss to your lips. He quickly pulled back as though he'd been burned, realizing what he'd done of your friends, and the two of you started at each other in surprise and shock over his actions.

"You know what, fuck it," you said, fisting his shirt and pulling him down, slotting your lips over his like your life depended on it. He responded instantly, practically crawling onto the couch to deepen the kiss, pulling you into his lap. You barely registered the sounds of your friends whooping and cheering around you. After what felt like several heady minutes, when you eventually came up for air, you were both smiling, red embarrassment creeping up your faces.

"It's about damned time!" Sam shouted, throwing a mozzarella stick a the two of you. With lighting reflexes, Bucky caught it midair, bit half of it and fed you the rest.

"All this fanfare over a simple kiss?" he asked rhetorically, ignoring the pointed looks. "Stop making it a big deal."

"I have literally wanted nothing more in my entire life," Wanda said, fiddling with her phone. "And I may have taken a picture to send to Pepper to prove she lost."

Bucky gave you a questioning look.

"The Sokovian Horndog over there has been placing bets on us," you sighed. "We just won her $100." A corner of his mouth tipped up in a smile.

"Best buy my girl something pretty with your winnings then, Red," he teased. Leaning your head against his shoulder, you watched in amusement as Wanda's cheeks flushed at Bucky's words.

Your friends continued to playfully give you both shit for a few more moments when you realized someone was missing from your little group.

"Hey, where did Steve go?" You were sure the blond super soldier had entered the room with Bucky and Sam, but now he was nowhere to be seen.

"Um, he sort of ran out when you two started to play tonsil hockey," Sam said between bites of pizza.

"Bathroom, maybe?" Nat suggested, her eyes glancing towards the hallway, but you could tell there was a note of uncertainty in her voice.

Bucky, however, seemed to have a better grasp on what might have occurred and his eyes scanned the room with a more discerning look. A sigh escaped him before he gently nudged you off his lap, rising from the couch. "I'll go find him," he said, turning down to give you a quick kiss goodbye. "Come on, Sam. We've disturbed Girls' Night long enough."

The Falcon began protesting, unfinished pizza slice still in hand, but Bucky grabbed him by the arm, dragging him off toward the hallway. Once they reached the doorway, Bucky turned around and gave you a quick wink.

"I'll see you at bedtime, Babydoll," he said, before dragging Sam off with him.

You waited a beat, giving the boys time to get out of earshot before the three of you began squealing like pre-teens.

"He's never called me that before," you gushed, the happiness coursing through you so intense you were afraid you'd launch into orbit.

"You are going to get such a good dicking down tonight!" Nat declared, coming around to playfully punch you on the shoulder.

And you absolutely did.

33 notes · View notes

hyuckbeam · 2 years

Text

try again

things don’t seem to be going the way you’ve been wanting them to go the entire week. to make things even worse than they already are, your boyfriend (or rather ex-boyfriend) dumped you in front of the entire campus. you can’t seem to lift yourself up and try again — well, that is until he comes into your life.

pairing | college barista!jeno x college student!reader

genre | fluff, angst, college au

warnings + notes | afab!reader, a bit of cursing, ex-bf being a red flag, mentions of alcohol, roomie!ningning, that’s p much it!

wc | 5.1k words

a/n | im super duper excited to finally release this chapter of the tttc series!! personally, i just like the overall flow of this one and i hope u do too!! let me know what u think abt it :> as always, rbs, likes, and feedback are appreciated!

song recs | all 4 nothing - lauv, the loneliest time - carly rae jepsen, tfw (that feeling when) - enhypen

tttc m.list, main m.list

the first time you met him was seriously by coincidence.

your stomach had you hurling for the past few days, not to mention how sore you were from phys-ed class yesterday. you still remember asking your coach to let you off the hook for the day, but they denied your request – oh well, they were never a great teacher anyways, you think to yourself. your own boyfriend hadn't even checked up on you once to ask if you were doing alright. it’s not like you were going to burden him or anything… you just wanted a little bit of reassurance to get you through the week. was that so much to ask for?

as if all odds were finally in your favor, a light buzz from your phone snaps you out of your thoughts. you pick it up to see your boyfriend’s caller id. maybe this was it. maybe the gods finally heard your pleas to make life just a teensy bit bearable for you.

“hey, i think we should meet up for a moment. do you have time?” is the first thing he’s told you all week and for some reason, instead of the comfort you were anticipating, all you felt was sheer annoyance. not even a simple how are you? the lack of emotion he’s displayed just breaks your heart even more than it already is.

you still manage to reply, mimicking his dry tone instinctively. “yeah, where?” it's faint, but you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a little hope in you. maybe he wants to meet in person to give you a hug, maybe a kiss? you desperately want that to be true.

“at the campus open grounds, you know, the one near that coffee shop?” he suggests through the call and you once your head despite him not even being able to see you. “okay, i’ll see you then.”

you couldn’t even believe he just asked if you knew where the open grounds were located. doesn’t he remember that’s the place he asked you out? perhaps it was an important event only to you. the thought manages to send a dry chuckle out your throat — it already didn’t seem like your little meetup with him was going to be of any help to your mood.

not much time had passed by the time you arrived at the chosen spot, setting your sights on a nearby bench to rest your feet as you waited.

a lot of people crowded the grounds today. it wasn’t usually this jam-packed, but you suppose the bright and sunny weather encouraged people to roam around outside. after all, the sky hadn’t been this pretty shade of vibrant blue in a while. you’re thankful the weather is good — at least something seems to be turning out well today.

your boyfriend arrives, albeit later than expected, even though he was the one who asked you to come out in the first place. you had been scorched by the sun’s rays for over ten minutes now, wanting nothing more than to just head back indoors.

“sorry i uh… took a while. i’ll make this short.” he states awkwardly, a bit too much considering you were dating. “i’m breaking up with you. i just fell out of love, you know that feeling, right?” your relationship was never the best, this was inevitably going to happen someday, but hearing it out loud was what did it for you.

out loud… wait. you look around to find practically everyone around you whispering to themselves, watching the scene between you and your boyfriend unfold — eating it up like it's the plot of a famous drama.

the shame, the anger, the embarrassment, you just wanted to get away from it all. the hope you gained earlier was all an illusion. your days weren’t going to get any better as the week just became like the stuff that comes out of nightmares. you utterly felt sick to the bottom of your stomach. not only did you get dumped, you got dumped in front of so many people.

without saying another word to your boyfriend — or should you say ex-boyfriend — you grab your things and take a run towards the nearest alleyway that just happened to be the one at the back of the coffee shop.

you crouch down to the floor, curling up into yourself as best as you could before finally letting emotions overtake you, just enough to calm you down. surely no one would find you here if you let out a tear or two, right?

wrong. whoever put that idea to your brain was a big dumbass (whoever being you) because a boy emerges through the shop’s backdoor and into the alleyway, presumably taking out the trash since he’s holding a familiar-looking black plastic bag. however, he quickly stops in his tracks, noticing your presence when there was usually no one else there. the alley was pretty dark after all – it gave most people the creeps but here you were, willingly occupying a small portion of the horrid area while bawling your eyes out. “um… i don’t usually do this, but do you want a cup of hot chocolate?” the guy offers, rubbing his nape sheepishly after noticing your tear-stained cheeks.

you can’t help but silently thank him for not bringing up your appearance in the conversation. you probably looked like a disheveled tomato by now, prompting you to wipe your tears with your arm to at least make yourself look presentable. “actually… yeah, that would be nice.”

you got a better look at him now that you were seated in the cafe, the warm lighting easing your nerves little by little. as expected of him, there’s a welcoming aura that surrounds his figure, a calm smile that’s sure to brighten up anyone’s day (including yours), a tiny little mole below his eye, and the shiniest hair that made you want to touch it — that probably wasn’t the most appropriate thought you’ve had all day.

what you didn’t expect was that he’d actually give that cup of hot chocolate free of charge. you didn’t even know who he was (and probably vice versa). still, it made you gain back a little bit of hope that was lost. with a soft smile now spread across your lips, you begin to ponder that maybe today could still turn out to be better for you.

-0-

the rest of your day goes better than anticipated, and you’re beginning to think that barista you met at the coffee shop is some sort of miracle worker or a lucky charm. even if he wasn’t, you sure do feel lucky you ran into him – though the situation wasn’t exactly the most ideal in hindsight. still, the thought manages to keep your spirits high all the way until you reach back to your dorm.

“ning yizhuo!” your sudden call turns two heads in the room, one being the said person, and the other being her cousin, renjun. the latter often came by and you were quite used to his presence and practically saw him as a brother.

“oh no, not the government name!” a sarcastic tone laces your roommate’s voice. truthfully, she had already heard about your breakup and was expecting you to be bawling your eyes right about now… except… you weren’t. in fact, you had a beaming smile displayed for everyone to see. weird – renjun had probably thought the exact same thing as they gave each other identical looks.

this goes completely unnoticed by you, dropping your bags before making yourself comfortable by the couch. “seriously, you guys won’t believe what happened earlier.”

“... you got dumped?” renjun voices out slowly, almost as if he’s testing the waters still.

“no! i mean yes, but that’s not what i was going to talk about.”

“why aren’t we talking about that? your ex was a douche- i can finally talk shit about him!” ningning cheers.

renjun clears his throat, “more importantly though, are you really fine?”

his words linger in your head for a bit. were you really okay? genuinely speaking, you didn’t feel much – probably because you expected your relationship to fall out eventually. both of you wanted different things and came to realize that. there was an underlying feeling of gratitude that your ex finally cut through the cracks of your bond, but you could definitely do without all the public shame though. that might continue to haunt you, but what’s done, was done.

“mhm, i’m really fine. i’ll get over him sooner or later.” you answer softly. both renjun and ningning could tell you were certain, silently agreeing within themselves to drop the topic completely. “but gosh, i probably wouldn’t have been able to make it through the day if it weren’t for that barista guy in the coffee shop.

you see renjun’s ears visibly perk up at the mention of a barista there, like he already knew who you were referring to. “do you mean the guy who works there? y’know, the one who kind of looks like a fluffy white dog and has a mole under his eye?” god, was he spot on with the description too.

“that’s him!” you gasp out, still in slight shock. you suppose renjun frequents the shop – especially since that’s where he and his girlfriend go to study. “huang renjun, are you psychic?”

that seems to bring out a snort in him, “you just knew that now?” he remarks rather playfully, “actually, his name is jeno. we’ve been friends for a pretty long while now.”

ah, so his name is jeno. you wouldn’t tell anyone, but you mayhaps ingrained that piece of information straight to your heart.

the second time you met him, you just wanted to see him one more time after.

ever since you learned about his name from renjun, he seemed to pop up in almost every conversation you engaged with. was he always this popular or were you just really ignorant to the people around you? it’s crazy how much you’ve been thinking about him ever since.

“put a finger down if you’ve gotten butterflies from a stranger!” frankly, you’re startled at the command, forgetting that you were in the middle of a ‘never have i ever’ game with your group of friends. jeno just so happened to be there too since your friend groups actually aligned well within each other. with him personally being around, you couldn’t seem to focus on anything except him. it’s the nudge ningning aims at your shoulder that gets you placing a finger down, remembering you’re still part of the game. you suppose your brief interaction with jeno does count as part of this…

this small action had the entire group cooing. it was a bit overwhelming, not knowing what to do when so many eyes were set on you. wanting to brush it off, you simply give a shy smile to the crowd, persuading them to not go any further and just continue on with the game. luckily, that’s exactly what they do and you’re met with sweet relief – finally letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in the first place.

still, your gaze shifts back at jeno. had he realized you were the person that bawled their eyes out in the back alleyway of the coffee shop? had he realized you were the one he offered a free cup of hot chocolate to? had he realized you were staring at him like he held the entire universe in his hands?

but most importantly, had you realized he was looking back at you the same way? no? maybe that’s for the best.

the air was getting too stuffy in the room for your liking, you had to excuse yourself out for some fresh air. it was already pretty dark out and you weren’t sure when your friends would finally call it a night. frankly, the breeze was much colder now (and you kind of regret not bringing a jacket out), but at the same time it was calming and quiet – a sharp contrast to the lively atmosphere held inside.

that serene silence was cut off by the faint sound of footsteps coming from the main door, jeno’s figure coming into view. what was he doing out here?

“hey… inside got too much, huh?” guess you and him share that opinion as you nod in agreement.

“a little?” your nose scrunches up at the thought. “i don’t usually mind it but it does get me swamped sometimes.”

a small hum is what comes out as a reply, the both of you opting for the comfortable silence the night bears. a few ruffling sounds are heard coming from jeno and before you could ask him what was making the noise, you felt warmth embrace you from behind. it was a jacket. not just any jacket, his jacket.

“sorry, did i startle you? it’s just, you looked cold.” truth be told, you were far from cold after his gesture. isn’t this something someone would do when they’re in a relationship? why was jeno doing this… with you?

it was then you unconsciously already had your mind made up. you weren’t going to acknowledge it yet, but you were completely over your ex.

-0-

there was absolutely no chance of you getting sleep that night, especially after the events beforehand. though you enjoyed every moment you spent with jeno, you kinda preferred having a full night’s worth of sleep right about now. it’s a good thing ningning was able to grace you with a cup of coffee as soon as you woke up — you don’t think you would have gotten out of bed otherwise.

“seriously, what’s up with you two!” ningning squints her eyes with suspicion glazed over them, trying to get some sort of answer regarding your situation with jeno.

“it’s not what you think it is.”

“then what is it?”

huh. she had a point there. just what is your relationship with lee jeno? it was a little foggy to yourself as well. the both of you never had much conversations, but when you did, they managed to send cupid arrows straight to your heart without fail. this was so much unlike your past relationship. when was the last time you ever felt this way?

“it’s just small conversations, that’s all it is.” you finally reply, words acting more like a reminder to yourself rather than an actual response to ningning’s query.

“is that really true?” your roommate frowns with a sigh, “you know, i noticed the way he looks at you. it’s different from others.”

“you’re probably mistaking his kindness for something else, ning. i doubt this’ll even lead to anything.” your statement is brief, but ningning manages to catch the light thread of hope in your words, understanding you wished it would lead to more. that’s all she needed to know. she knew better than to push you just to ease her own mind from the heapload of questions she has stored away.

“just know, whatever happens, i’ll always support you, okay?” she smiles brightly like the gentle rays of sunshine that slip through your dorm’s sill curtains. “okay.”

the third time you met him, you wished for nothing more but to remain in his company.

it’s just midday and you already feel like falling asleep. naturally, your feet bring you to the campus coffee shop, not registering the fact that jeno’s probably working his shift. in this moment, you were too sleep deprived to care.

“hi, can i get one chocolate chip frappucino-” you finally look up to see jeno’s familiar face right in front of you, recallings of the night before plaguing your thoughts and sending a surge of adrenaline in your body. suddenly, you were wide awake and could probably last the whole day with or without the coffee you were about to purchase.

“y/n, it’s nice to see you.” he greets softly, eyes scanning your features to find dark bags staining your usually lively eyes. “i think i’ll add another shot of espresso to your drink… you might need it.” he mutters out, more so to himself.

you can’t help but smile, finding his slight worry for your well-being to be endearing. “i’ll add that espresso shot then.” you chuckle, catching him off guard as he didn’t expect you to hear him.

“i’ll make sure to prepare your drink well.” he finally replies, punching in your order as you move to find a seat to occupy while you wait.

it doesn’t take long for jeno to approach your table, a drink with a swirly straw in hand. to your surprise, instead of simply dropping off the drink, he takes the seat in front of yours before setting it down. “i’m actually on my break right now but i wanted to talk to you. i hardly see you on campus after all. aside from when you visit here, that is.” it’s almost laughable at how predictable your response is to anything he does, feeling your stomach gain the now familiar fluttery sensation you always experience. when it comes to him, it seems to never get old, but none of that was the main point.

he wanted to talk to you. he went out of his way for you. he could be spending his break time elsewhere, but he’s here with you. perhaps you were overanalyzing his actions, yet you can’t stop the heat that creeps up your cheeks.

“sure, take a seat- i mean, you already did but-”

he chuckles, a slip of a smile coming into view. “your drink by the way.” he motions at the sweet drink you ordered. “i added more chocolate chips for you too.”

“spoiling me now, are we?”

“you caught me!”

talking to him just felt so natural. there was never a dull moment, and when silence would fill up the air, it was never thick and heavy, but light and freeing. you quietly sip your drink to these thoughts, occasionally wondering if this would be what it felt like if you two started dating- you’re thinking too ahead for someone who hasn’t even come to terms with their own feelings. you should just enjoy your time with him.

-0-

since then, you and jeno have grown closer to the point where you frequently talk on the phone at night. neither of your paths often crossed during the day, so these calls definitely made up for that – at least for you. through them, you’ve come to learn that jeno usually plays video games until the crack of dawn, sometimes even streaming his screen for you to watch. tonight, you decided to prepare ramen for yourself so you had something to eat while watching him.

“what flavor are you making today?” his voice is a lot huskier than it usually is during the night.

though this isn’t something new to you, there’s still that cozy feeling that almost feels domestic, and sometimes, you can’t help but squeal to yourself and kick your feet in the air. ningning even asked if you were alright because she thought you had gone crazy after hearing you from her own room.

“i think this one is cheese flavored? i’m not really sure since ning buys our groceries.”

“you should prepare me some when i come over next time. i wanna try some too.”

did he want to come over? your mind immediately fills with the idea of jeno visiting your dorm (or humble abode as ningning likes to call it). he’s seen glimpses of it as your background when you’d facetime each other, but what would he think about seeing it in person? there’s that famous saying that your home reflects your personality, after all. you don’t realize it, but you go dead silent, completely encapsulated by your imagination.

“hello? you’re still there, right?” he calls out for you, it’s much softer this time as if he’s checking up on you in case something happened.

“yeah, yeah i’m here. come over next time, then.”

he does, in fact, come over as soon as he got the chance to. honestly, he resembled an eager golden retriever exploring a new area the entire time you showed him around your dorm, having only seen it through a screen. on some occasions, he would point out a random trinket you had on display, saying it looked like you. he said the same about your potted succulent and you’re not sure how you feel about that one, but nonetheless, he seemed to be enjoying himself and that’s all that mattered. you were practically worried over nothing the other night.

“didn’t you say you were going to prepare me a little treat too?” jeno questions, finally finished with going around the dorm room.

“hm? oh, right the ramen-” you recall, immediately taking a few steps to the kitchen to prepare what you had promised him. “make yourself comfortable, i won’t take long!” it really doesn’t take much to make instant ramen, after all.

once it finishes boiling, you carefully transfer it to one of those gold-colored, aluminum pots to keep the ramen warm – making sure to add a few toppings to the dish to make it a bit more filling.

you make your way to the living room, seeing jeno on his phone by the couch. there’s that domestic feeling worming its way up on you again that has you wondering how it’d be like if jeno was your boyfriend. would he come visit over often? would you be able to visit his dorm sometime? the thought continues to remain on your mind for the entirety of jeno’s stay.

you really wanted this moment to become just as frequent as your nightly calls with him.

the most recent time you met up with him, you finally acted on what you’ve been holding in all this time.

ningning had invited you out to a party, luring you in by slipping that a certain someone was also going to be there. all jokes aside, you knew she also just wanted you to have fun, it’s been a while since you’ve gone out to a party anyways.

the event wasn’t anything fancy, your average college party hosted by one of the frats. you wore a black mini dress, one you bought but never got the chance to use until now. it fit you perfectly in all the right areas, but it took a lot of convincing from ningning’s part for you to actually buy it. you surely had to thank her now or else you wouldn’t have anything to wear for tonight.

“you’re finally wearing it!” it seems you weren’t the only one excited to see yourself wearing the dress as your roommate’s eyes sparkle at your outfit. “here, here. i’m letting you borrow these too since they match.” she hands over a pair of black earrings made with sequins and glass beads. it looked perfect for the look.

“thanks, it isn’t too much, right?”

“not at all! plus, it’s a party. who cares what others think- what’s important is that you look good!”

this makes you let out a small laugh, she was right. she always is. “okay then, let’s go?”

“lets!” ningning takes her purse from the coffee table before linking her free arm around yours. “we should get going if we don’t want to be late.”

it’s a good thing you both left when you did since the two of you arrived just on time. the party had already started a few minutes ago with some people already wasted (they probably drank before everything even started…). it doesn’t take long for you and ningning to manage through the sea of people, finally spotting a couple of familiar faces by the corner of the room.

“hey, you two made it!” renjun beams alongside his girlfriend, a plastic red cup in hand containing who knows what. “oh y/n, jeno’s by the kitchen. he was asking where you were before you arrived.”

“oh? thanks jun, i’ll go see what’s up.” you offer him a small smile before leaving ningning’s side and trying to find where the kitchen was located. after a bit of roaming around, you eventually find the boy you’re looking for.

cheeks flushed, dazed eyes, and a lopsided expression. jeno was probably no where clear from sober by the looks of it. guess you weren’t going to drink today, especially when your friend isn’t in the right state of mind.

“jeno? renjun said you were looking for me.” you call out to him softly in hopes he could hear you through the music that’s blasting on the speaker system.

by the sound of your voice, his head quickly turns in your direction. “y/n! i’ve bween looking por you everywhere!” he immediately wraps his arms around your figure, burying his head in the crook of your neck. your cheeks have flushed now too, not from alcohol, but because of the way he’s hugging you.

you never imagined jeno to be big on skinship while under the influence – well, you’ve never dealt with a tipsy jeno in general until now, so this was truly going to be one hell of an experience.

“have you, really?” you question him, patting his hair. “i’m here now though. did you need me for something?”

you feel him nod against your shoulder, “i wanted to kiss you but you were nooowhere to be found, and then renjun gave me a drink, and then haechan started laughing, and then i started laughing-”

he was beginning to ramble off and probably won’t remember any of the things he’s telling you right now. would that also include how he just confessed he wanted to kiss you? you know jeno’s just drunk, but there’s a part of you that hopes he wouldn’t forget that. you urge him to stand up straight for a moment before letting him lean onto you for support. the best you could do was probably have him sit outside for some fresh air (and maybe a cup of water).

-0-

the two of you are now seated silently next to one another with jeno’s head resting on your shoulder, and it’s reminiscent of the first time you actually had a proper conversation with him. the night was just like this, and yet, so many things have happened already since then.

“hey, about what i said earlier…” oh, he sobers up rather quickly. “y’know, about the wanting to kiss you and all that.”

you turn to face him with a bittersweet expression, the nearby streetlamp placing a soft glow over your features and jeno wonders where that solemn look on your face is coming from. “hm? no it’s alright. i’m sure we all say things we don’t mean when we get drunk. it’s normal.”

“well no, because, i did mean it.”

“that’s okay- huh?”

“i like you, y/n.” although its dark, you know he’s staring at you, waiting for you to respond.

“i… i do too, but we just met like a month ago.” you hadn’t even come to terms with your own feelings yet. “wouldn’t we be, i don’t know, going a little too fast? maybe both of us aren’t currently in the right mind.”

“that just proves my point even more. in a mere month of us getting to knowing each other, i’ve come to learn so much about you, grown so fond of you, and… i just want to be with you. trust me, i had a lot of time to think, but if you need more time. i’ll wait for you.”

now you were conflicted. did you really need more time to understand your own emotions?it’s not like you hid your affection for the boy, instead, it was quite the contrary. people started looking for you through jeno and others asked you about jeno’s whereabouts. its as if you two were now two peas in a pod, and everyone knew. were you going to break something you cherished just because you felt like your emotions hadn’t been sorted, when in reality, have been perfectly laid out right in front of you all along?

“no. no need.” your eyes crease as you smile at him, “i know what i want, and it’s you. it’s always been you.”

he doesn’t need any more validation than this, snaking his arm around your waist before pulling you close, lips barely touching. “can i kiss you?”

“please.” you surely don’t need to tell jeno twice, wasting no time as he quickly locks your lips with his own in such a way that you’d think he’s been pining over you longer than you had originally thought. you hadn’t drank a drop the entire night, but you felt so giddy just kissing him.

jeno pulls away first, and you already feel breathless from such a short kiss. slowly, he brings a hand up to cup your cheek, thumb rubbing small, comforting circles onto your skin. “should we head back now?” honestly, you didn’t want to just yet, still unable to hide your smile from the lingering touch of his lips. still, you knew better than to stay out for too long.

“yeah, the others are probably wondering where we went.” and with that, he pulls himself off the ground, extending a hand out to help you get on your feet.

“let’s go back in… slowly, okay?” you giggle out, still wanting to cherish the moment with him.

“how could i say no to you?”

eventually, you do make it back into the party, quickly spotting your group of friends.

the sight of you both sporting puffy lips and rosy tinted cheeks, not to mention your lipstick smudged on the corner of jeno’s lips had everyone raising a brow. neither of you had noticed that because it was so dark out… um, oopsies?

ningning manages to connect all the dots together, a loud gasp erupting from her that startles the rest of the group. “OMG DON’T TELL ME! no wait actually please do confirm- PLEASE TELL ME YOU’RE TOGETHER?”

you and jeno look at each other with a knowing look, feeling his hand reach out for yours before you happily reply, “yeah, we are.”

taglist | @haeravlgs, @matchahyuck, @vantxx95, @ahnneyong, @lixxbr0wnie, @legbouk, @rocarecs, @winwonies, @gfrdistance

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mazeinthemiroh · 1 year

Text

hongjoong x reader, long distance relationship

genre: romance, suggestive

word count: 1k

song rec: k. by cigarettes after sex

warnings: suggestive (nothing explicit), lowercase intentional

a/n: i was inspired to write this for different reasons. one being the pic of hongjoong you can see above. and another, evidently, being this beautiful song. i especially encourage you to listen to k. by cigarettes after sex while you read this fic, because that's the song it's based on. you'll understand when you read the lyrics <3 but even the vibe of it is... yeah, beautiful. i just hope i captured that here. hope you all enjoy.

the needle threaded through the grooves of the vinyl as it spun, delicately. elegantly. the soft tones of the music whispered through the apartment like wind tickling the branches.

hongjoong looked over at the figure laying next to him. you, in all your perfectness. lying beside him, with nothing but a white sheet covering your bare skin, he being in the same condition.

he recalled yesterday's events...

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

fizzy feelings, high on memories spent with you, he remembered all these things as he waited for you at the airport. the anticipation became unbearable, and yet he stood perfectly still, his heart in his throat. eyes fixated on the landing planes, praying one of them was finally yours, he wondered if you were just as excited to see him. and when your plane landed, you bounded through the airport to come face-to-face with him.

you collided and embraced each other.

"i missed you," you whispered sensually as you grabbed onto each other for dear life. that was all you felt you could do. the closeness of your bodies alone was enough to make hongjoong desperate. leaning back, he must've looked you in the eyes, getting you to stare back into his. and oh, those eyes. you knew them so well. after all the time you've spent apart, you could still read him like a book. the longing that sparkled in his warm, passionate eyes. you knew that look all too well.

so back to his apartment you went.

it was different this time. desperate kisses and gripping and grabbing and longing and passion and fire. all done in style. all done the way it was supposed to be done. this is how making love is supposed to be. this is how the poets had written it to be. this is how the movies tried to capture it, although they never quite encapsulated the intoxicating essence of love that was so real to you both.

no strings attached, you both said. too far away from each other to develop feelings, but too attracted to each other not to act on them. that was a promise you both declared to each other. then why was it all so perfect?

and as you sat opposite each other, sitting in the restaurant like nothing insanely perfect had just occurred not an hour ago, there was something different. something had changed. he could see it in your eyes. the way they kept avoiding his, shyly, perhaps coyly. where had your previous sensual confidence gone? perhaps there was something more between you that made you second guess yourself. and when you did dare to look at him, your gaze meeting his, there was some sort of electric magic that neither of you could describe. hongjoong grinned gently to himself at this thought. perhaps he was right, after all.

"i missed you," you whispered under your breath. you said that previously that day, but it was different now. so different. the flirtatious spike from your voice had gone. it was replaced with a yearning tenderness that made his heart feel light.

"let's go back to my place" hongjoong suggested, eyes full of intense fondness. "i need to hold you again."

you felt a blush flutter on your cheeks, looking back down at your hands as you fiddled with your rings. it felt good to be wanted. but the tone in his voice made you weaker than before. he was much gentler now.

"if i do that, i might not ever leave," you breathed out a laugh, but there was a sadness that welled up in your eyes immediately. you tried to blink away the tears that started to glaze over. if you looked at him in the eyes again, you knew you would break down again.

"is that such a bad thing?"

and after promising yourself that you wouldn't look into his eyes again, your head lifted at his comment. he was serious. you could see his jaw clench; he held himself back from revealing all of his feelings. such a complicated man could never put into words what he was feeling. how could he? how could he tell you why he wanted you to stay?

"stay with me, i don't want you to leave."

it was an offer hard to say no to. and as you closed the door of hongjoong's apartment, he reached for a record. you watched his fingers gently place it on the player, lifting up the needle and sinking it down. the needle settled onto the vinyl perfectly and began to play.

as you stared at him, he came closer once again. closer, closer, and closer still. until your lips were brushing over each others, gently. eyes fixated onto his, there was a giddy smile that spread across your face.

your black clothes hung elegantly off your body as hongjoong's fingers gently worked at removing them. his lips scarcely grazed the skin of your neck, bringing forth soft sighs from your lips.

laying you tenderly on his bed, his lips caught yours once more. the song was nothing but background noise now...

~ kristen, come right back. i've been waiting for you to slip back in bed when you light the candle ~

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

now, he looks at you fondly, a smile gracing his features.

could he use the word love, now? arm over your waist, he brought your body ever so slightly closer to his. his smile deepened as he watched you sink into his arms once more.

~ and i'm kissing you lying in my room. holding you until you fall asleep...~

yes. love was the exact word. he wouldn't want to admit it before, but now he knows. you were where you should be. anywhere else other than his arms would be wrong.

~ and it's just as good as i knew it would be... ~

he just hoped you could see that too.

~ stay with me, i don't want you to leave ~

ateez taglist: @a-wandering-stay, @xlovehwa, @yeosangsbiceps, @anyamaris, @acciocriativity, @hawaiian-angel, @chammak-challokys, @halesandy, @chansburgah

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prettyiwa · 2 years

Text

I do not authorize the translation or reposting of my work anywhere. Do not mention me or my work on Tik-Tok.

Relationship: Edward Elric x F!Reader Content Warnings: Post-Story Events, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, PTSD, Angst to Fluff, Aged-Up Edward Elric Summary: Years after the events that took place in Central, Ed still struggles with nightmares. Word Count: 1,300

A/N: I had taken this down from Tumblr and left it up on AO3. Since I've made my works only accessible to registered AO3 users in the past week, I thought I would repost it here as it started as a tumblr request.

Four years later and it still affects him as though it were yesterday. The mounting anxiety and anticipation in the week leading up to it, the concern he held for Al, the frustration he felt at seeing Hohenheim一at first, anyway一working alongside Scar and the chimeras. Some parts are a blur, like how they got into the underground tunnel or the way they had to fight those mannequins, but others? Others are ingrained so deeply in the folds of his brain that, when he closes his eyes, he can still see it, still feel it.

Like no time has passed.

But it has passed. It’s passed marvelously. Al is visiting Mei in Xing right now, whole and in the body he had been deprived of for so long. Winry and Granny are in Resembool, happy and healthy with increased business thanks to Winry’s time in Rush Valley. And now he has you.

Constant. Patient. Brilliant and luminous, just as your paintings.

Each time he finds himself reliving that day, you are here to remind him of the present. Each time he wakes from a nightmare, you’re right beside him, content to hold him to you or to nestle closer in his arms. You’re here.

But this dream is so vivid, so real, it muddles the line of distinction, making it difficult to discern dream from reality. He calls it a dream一a persistent, desperate hope more than anything一but he can’t quite tell.

His heart thunders in his chest, rewatching the familiar scene in horror一Mei sobbing over what remains of Al’s armored body, too destroyed for Ed to do anything; the rebar pierced through his left arm while his right is achingly malnourished, disgustingly weak; the acrid smell of smoke that fills the air, mixing with the dust raised from the destroyed buildings.

Everything is too familiar, but it makes it easier to go through the motions, to do what needs to be done, to end this fight. Because he does. He knows he does. He knows what it’s like to see Al in his body again. He knows that day is coming where you walk into his life and irrevocably alter it.

Except that, when the time comes to make the trade for Al, he can’t quite remember what he trades. He knows that this is a problem that he’s already solved, but the answer is sitting at the back of his throat, just out of reach.

In that moment of hesitation where his mind blanks, he hears the sardonic laugh that’s taunted him in nightmares for longer than he cares to admit and two things happen.

The first is that Al stands before him, completely healthy, unlike his appearance on that day. He wears a look of concern, confusion, eyes not meeting Ed’s, instead focused on something just behind him.

The second is the scream, terrified and in immense pain. He knows the voice, even if he’s never heard the sound.

He seems to freeze in place, unable to turn and look at you, unable to accept that you’re somewhere you’re not supposed to be, that you’re hurt, that something is very, very wrong. It’s the way Al calls out your name, pushes past him to get to you that snaps him out of it, that makes him turn around.

The air surrounding you is purple as metaphysical hands pull at you, unraveling you, mirroring the scene from years ago. Your eyes find his as you reach out, pleading for him to help you, to make the pain stop, to save you.

It’s the breaking of his heart as your hand falls into his just before you’re gone, the aching of his soul at your absence. It’s the immeasurable pain that wakes him, that finally allows for his consciousness to win out, to pull him back to reality where you’re okay and here and 一

You’re not.

You’re not here.

The sheets cling to him, weighing him down as he jolts up, as he tries to force his eyes to adjust to the darkness in an attempt to find you. Outside of the warmth on your side of the bed一which isn’t comforting given how the summer heat is making everything so damn warm一there’s no indication that you were here.

His throat seems to close and it becomes impossible to breathe, to think. Just as in his dream一at least, he’s desperately hoping it was a dream一his heart is pounding, the sound of his blood pumping the only thing he can hear.

Maybe… maybe you stepped out? You like the heat just as much as he does, and, according to you, he’s a furnace when asleep. That’s a very real possibility. Or maybe you went to the restroom and are about to come back?

Whatever it is, wherever you’ve gone, he feels the nerves building up within him, the need to find you, to ensure that you’re safe and whole. He needs to be proactive, can’t afford to wait. He’s never been good at waiting, at sitting still, even less when the people he loves are at risk.

Potentially.

Assuming that you’re in danger. Which you’re not. You can’t be. There is no danger to be had, not anymore. Right?

Stumbling out of bed, he makes his way out of the room, scanning it once more before opening the door. The bathroom door is open, revealing a dark, empty room devoid of you. He releases a shaky breath and turns to check outside before he hears a faint click! and is faced with his diffused shadow, illuminated by the kitchen light that’s now on just down the hall.

“Ed? What are you doing up?”

Swiveling, he finds you illuminated by that same light, almost creating a glowing halo around your being. You’re leaning against the entryway to the kitchen, tired eyes taking in his appearance. Before he can truly process it, he’s stepping forward, wrapping his left arm around your waist as his right hand cradles the back of your head, pulling you to him, letting him crush you against him.

A puff of air escapes you, surprised by his reaction, but you’re quick to wrap your arms around his middle, quick to offer some kind of relief. His hold on you tightens and you seem to understand his unspoken need for reassurance, for the harsh reminder that you’re here. Mimicking the strength with which he holds you, you press him to you, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“Wanna talk about it?” you mumble into his skin.

“No—not right now.”

A small nod is all he gets in response and you’re in no hurry to be let go. You wait, as you always do, allowing him to calm down as you hum a nonsensical little melody for him. When his grip starts to loosen, you explain.

“I woke up because it’s hot. I thought you might want a glass of water when you wake, so I came to the kitchen to get it. ‘M sorry, love.”

“Don’t be. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just that you di— disappeared in my dream. I panicked,” he replies, unable to even admit that in his dream, you died. It doesn’t matter now, anyway. Not really.

“Oh. Well, I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.” It’s a promise, one he’s heard many times before. “The truth is that you’re stuck with me, Ed.” You press a kiss to his cheek, releasing him to grab the aforementioned glass of water. Offering it, he drinks the water, remembering the conversation you once had about how water helps with panic attacks.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” It’s his truth, the one that harmonizes with yours.

Please reblog this fic if you enjoyed it!

#fullmetal alchemist x reader #fma x reader #edward elric x reader #ed elric x reader #edward elric angst #edward elric fluff #fma request #✒.ix writes #✒.the truth that lingers #🦾.fma #fma.✒

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photmath · 1 year

Text

Comme Les Fleurs - Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Love Lies

Summary: Left with no other options, Kylian must rehab his newly injured leg at a stranger’s home for the next month and she isn’t at all what he expects. Meanwhile, Aurèle has to deal with easily-irritated and sullen Kylian as she opens her home to him.

Word Count: 9.2k

Warnings: angst, fluff, kissing, cursing, brief lying

Note: Sorry for the month long wait! There will most definitely be some errors and/or redundancy, I did not get to edit as efficiently.

Kylian didn’t want to leave. It was his first time waking up with Aurie snuggled up on his side and his face immediately fell at the sight of her so relaxed next to him. The sun was barely peeking through her windows as its rays bounced off her cheeks. He brushed her cheeks with his thumb before sliding his legs in between hers, wanting to feel every part of her body against his. She hissed and for a moment it startled him, thinking he had accidentally woken her up. He wanted more time to hold her without thinking about how for the most part of today, they were going to be separated.

Aurie stirs, her eyes fluttering open and Kylian gives her a goofy smile in return. Her arms are dangling around his torso as she squeezes him tighter, “Good morning.”

“Morning, chérie. I woke you, hmm?”

She nods her head, “Mm-hmm.” She closes her eyes as she uses his chest to block out the sun. He chuckles, kissing her temple while sighing.

“Are you going to go back to sleep?”

She peeks up at him, “Why wouldn’t I?” Her lip curls up with mischief and he grins. His hands sneak down to her waist and he pushes her so that her back lies against the sheets. She snickers, arms wrapped around his neck as he settles beside her. He kisses her forearms, Aurie giving him a small smile that makes him swoon.

Aurie pulls him down to her lips, groaning at the feel of them. Her nails dig into his bare shoulders, him deciding to sleep shirtless and she was enjoying every moment leading up to that decision. He chuckles once he feels her other wandering hand near his shorts waistband.

“Aurèle,” he scolds.

“What?” she bites down onto his lip and he elicits a scowl. He lets her have her way, knowing that her hand will stray near his waistline but never dip inside until he takes more of an initiative.

She reels back, playing with the strings while looking up at him, “I’m going to miss you today.”

“You still have me for a couple of hours,” he simpers. His fingers draw mindless circles on her thighs. “I’m going to miss you too.”

“You know what Martin asked of me the other day?” she asks. He shakes his head. “He asked if I’d be willing to be at PSG Campus in the event that you still aren’t healed by preseason training.”

Kylian frowns, he knew she wasn’t anticipating a move back into rehabbing footballers. Even if she would be there for possibly a month, she didn't want to be in that kind of setting anymore. He purses his lips, “Do you think you’ll still need to help me by then?”

She shakes her head, “No. I think if you’re training with Martin exclusively for that first week back, you’ll be fine. Of course I will have to run some final tests on you in two weeks, but I trust Martin more than anyone else on that staff.”

He nods, his eyebrows furrowing, “Do you…even want to go back to football?”

Aurie looks away from him. “I don’t know. Martin just seems a bit—rattled.”

“Rattled?”

“He’s always complained about the rehab group, always had his doubts with them. Said that even though he gives them specific instructions, it isn’t enough. He’s getting a bit frustrated I guess,” she explains. “And with the new coach coming in, he suspects Luis will bring in his own staff. Martin’s job is safe, but he doesn’t know the staff and it’ll be a challenge trying to figure out how they operate.”

“When did you speak to him?”

“Yesterday. I had to give him a final debrief before your meeting with him today. Oh, and of course Dr. Minic as well.”

“Minic?” Kylian furrows his eyebrows at the mention of the psychologist. He sits up.

“Yeah,” Aurie says casually. She sits up next to him and folds her legs, “You do realize I have to document your temperament and progress each day after therapy right?”

He rolls his eyes, “I know.”

“So why are you surprised about Dr. Minic?”

He shrugs, “I have a meeting with him today, too. Suddenly planned.”

“Ah,” she clicks. “He does enjoy his random meetings.”

He groans, remembering the random check ups midseason last year. The visits became more frequent during their losing stretches, since February. Kylian grew tired of hearing Dr. Minic call for him after practice. He was certainly the last person he wanted to see today.

Aurie squeezes his shoulder and then kisses the skin, “You’ll be okay.” She hops out of the bed while Kylian watches her.

“I don’t even know what to talk to him about.”

“It’s a good thing he asks the questions,” she turns towards him and gives him a smirk. His downcast in mood immediately dissipates as he shuffles off the bed to wrap his arms around her again. She lets out an innocent laugh, and Kylian can only bear to stuff his head into her neck, kissing her skin as he chuckles.

“Your beard tickles!” she pushes him away despite him holding her from behind. Aurie squeals as he continues to brush his chin against her neck, stopping once her back hits her dresser. He laughs, resting his forehead on top of hers.

Things with Aurie were so simple. So simple to be himself without feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. Even when he was at the Roland Garros and his image was being analyzed, he didn’t feel any of the weight. It would be his first time back at the PSG Campus, and while it wasn’t unusual, reporters and journalists seeing him there during his time “off” would certainly spark up rumors.

He could only imagine.

But for now, his only focus is on Aurie. His Aurie.

She smiles, “Hi.”

“Hi.” He pecks her lips and then her cheek before pulling away and running off, eliciting a loud, cheeky laugh as he exits her bedroom. She shakes her head as she holds off a laugh at his antics.

Aurie had set him up on the treadmill and despite her watching him like a hawk, he felt as if he were alone. The window in front of him was all he focused on, he couldn’t even feel Aurie’s guiding hand on his hip.

They were going to take workouts outside today, picking up the intensity after the last low-intensity sessions. He was progressing onto harder challenges and Aurie didn’t hesitate to start him into a faster jog, but she wanted to see him jogging on grass first before they tried upping the pace. The inflammation of his calf was very minimal and he hadn’t complained of pain since his last flare up.

However, because of the night session being canceled so that Kylian’s leg had adequate amount of time to rest after increasing the intensity, it meant he had many different appointments today. Martin would be examining his leg today at the PSG Campus and that meant cameras and questions. Then, he would meet with his parents and his lawyer, a decision looming in the distance that was only a matter of weeks away to be announced. A part of himself had already made up his mind for the upcoming season. He had known since last year when he signed the new contract, his stomach churning at that thought now.

Aurie, being as perceptive as she was, raises her eyebrows at his sudden silence, “Did that hurt?”

“No.”

It was a small stutter in his cadence and she noticed it. He sinks his teeth onto his bottom lip, lowering his gaze to the numbers of the machine. He only has a couple of more minutes, but he wished he could go longer. A run always cleared his mind and the few minutes he had isn’t enough.

Aurie slows down his speed, instructing him to walk and then debriefing him about the running exercises outside. Like Kylian, she also had to do a couple of things around the house and nursing home, especially start setting up the Summer Gala decorations.

As she stretches his hamstring while on a step stool, she focuses on him, “Are you okay, Ky?”

He turns towards her, giving her a small smile, “Yeah. Just a lot on my mind.”

She set his leg over her shoulder again, “Do you want to talk about it?”

He blows out a raspberry, “I have a lot of things to do today…” Not a lot of time to think.

“That’s what’s bothering you?” She gives him an understanding smile that he can’t help but to smile back. His fingertips trace her knuckles as he stares at her necklace. It seems to always catch the sun somehow. It glimmered but it wasn’t blinding.

He ponders about how perfect of a gift it was for her; no matter where she was, she glowed. Her presence radiated attention that it was impossible to ignore her. How could he ever overlook the effect she had on him in such little time? Whether it was from her having to be attached to his hip or the way she carried on as if he wasn’t there, he loved it. She stopped for no one. Not even him. And that’s what he appreciated more. He wasn’t a star in her eyes. He was just Kylian.

“Kylian,” she speaks.

“Hmm?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Her eyebrows knit and Kylian instinctively ached to reach across to touch her face to soothe her worry lines. His fingers could only do so much to her working hands. Once she sets his leg down, he sits up, already knowing she is going to massage his quad.

“I’m okay,” he mutters. His eyes glance down to her lips, “Kiss?”

“No, I’m working.”

“One kiss,” he pouts. Aurie flicks him on his nose and he squirms while chuckling. “Fine then, nevermind.”

“You know the rule,” she huffs. She is still a bit apprehensive of him. He is more quiet than usual but the two of them did have busy hours ahead of them, so she isn’t going to ask for more. She taps his thigh, “Alright, let's go outside. Remember what I said, slow and easy.”

He’s eager to step back on the grass and run, even with the weight of the day. Her lawn wasn’t a football pitch, but it was definitely flat. She previously walked the length of it and made sure there weren’t any hidden holes or rough patches. The grass was trimmed short and had been maintained well.

“I’m going to run with you, we’ll go about half way and then walk it to the end,” she informs. “You keep my pace.”

Kylian nods, stretching his legs some more while Aurie sets up her timer. She gives him a nod and for the first time in months he’s back running—jogging—on grass. It was a major win in his eyes. One of the first milestones to being integrated back into training. He still had a lot to do, but for right now, he would soak up this victory.

Aurie smirks to herself when she notices Kylian smiling as he looks around her lawn. She runs a step behind him so she can pay attention to his mechanics. He isn’t compensating for any pain or stiffness and that generally meant good news. Bleu’s collar jingles from behind them, and seconds later, he sprints past the both of them. Kylian chuckles, turning towards Aurie and sending her a wink. He is so proud, his eyes nearly closed because of his overjoyous grin.

He truly is at ease.

As the two of them reach the midway point, Aurie brushes her hand against his forearm, “Let’s go ahead and slow down.”

He nods, slowing down into a walk and he can’t help himself. He throws his arms around Aurie’s shoulders from behind and kisses her cheek repeatedly, “Thank you, Aurèle. Thank you, thank you.” His lips continue to shower her cheek and jaw until he circles in front of her to cradle her head, hands perfectly slotted underneath her jaw. Her infectious giggle fills their silence, Kylian simpering in front of her. His knees, already on the verge of giving out as Aurie places her hands against his firm waist.

“Gah!” he groans. “I want to kiss you!” He proclaims the statement loudly, it now physically starting to hurt him to not kiss her lips.

Aurie chuckles, beckoning her chin upward for him. “Go ahead and kiss me, princess.”

Kylian grins, connecting her lips with hers immediately. Aurie’s on her tiptoes, pressing her waist against his hips. Hands are sliding down the back of her neck as he pulls away and draws her into a hug. Her forehead hits the edge of his shoulder brimmed with sweat but she doesn’t mind it at all, only drawing him closer.

“You’re welcome, but we still have some ways to go, you,” she says.

“I want you to meet my family,” he blurts out. Aurie’s eyes go wide at his sudden outburst. Her eyes are quick to stray from his, clearly she doesn’t have a good track record with families. A father who only spoke to her a couple of times a year, no bad blood between them except a giant wedge of life and distance that separated them. And then her mother.

Kylian recovers, “Not today. Just some day. I think you’d really get along with my brother, as well as my sister-in-law. My niece and nephew, they’re around Simi’s age. They’d adore you.”

Aurie narrows her eyes from the sun, “And your parents?”

Kylian’s shoulders deflate, a breathless smile fanning his face, “They’d love you. I can already see my mom inviting you to my games and forcing you to sit next to her. She’d probably invite you to dinner more than she’d invite me!”

Aurie laughs, her nerves dissipating as she watches Kylian gush about his parents. He’s animated, pointing out different ways that she would be integrated into the family without causing disruption. It is almost too good to be true. She can only remember glimpses of something like that from her childhood, before her mother’s injury. Before everything changed. To know that Kylian still had a family that remained cordial and close-knit with each other, it amazed her.

He pecks her forehead, “Whenever you’re comfortable, my mom already tells me she wants to hear this ‘wonder woman’ I brag about.”

She laughs, “Oh god, I have a name to live up to.

He shakes his head, “You have nothing to worry about. They love you already.” He draws one sweaty arm over her, “I think I’ve been infected by your happiness.”

“Come a long way from the first night, hmm?” she smirks.

He chuckles, “I had no idea what I was getting myself into.” He takes her hands in hers as they walk the rest of the length. Kylian stares down at the white fence that awaits them, Bleu wagging his tail as he sniffs the perimeter, having picked up a scent. Kylian gives Aurie’s hand a brief squeeze, “Why have you never taken me out all the way over here?”

Aurie raises her eyebrows, “You say that as if you were grounded from the outdoors. My land is your land for the moment, except if you kill my plants. Don’t think I forgot what Sergio told me.”

He throws his head back in a laugh, “I haven’t touched your plants, I promise. I’ve barely touched the one in my room!”

Aurie rolls her eyes, “Right, or so I think so far.” Kylian gives her a knowing look. “Once we reach the fence, we’ll run the length back.”

He nods. The two of them switch between running and walking the length of the backyard. Kylian’s movements are flawless, and Aurie is feeling good about herself, not only because of his progress, but because Martin would be able to see just how far he has gotten. Determining his status for the preseason is still up to debate, but perhaps he could play for a few minutes. It all depends on the next few weeks.

Once they finish the last run, Kylian showers while Aurie decides to cook them lunch. He is scheduled to leave before she was planning on leaving so it isn’t much of a problem for her to delay her own shower.

After lunch, Aurie meets Kylian in his bedroom, knocking softly against the already propped opened door. She can see him swing his head towards the door, giving her a tensed, thin-lined smile.

“You okay?”

He purses his lips, “I’m nervous.” He keeps soothing his white shirt, trying to get rid of the imaginary wrinkles. She leans her weight against the dresser, eyeing him. His cheeks rose in heat because she would pry the answers without having to ask. He clears his throat with a cough, “I should get going. Mac and Paul are here.”

“Give me your phone number,” she says. “In case I’m asleep by the time you get home. I mean you have a key anyway, so it’s okay if you don’t text.”

“I’ll text you, love, don’t worry,” he chuckles at her ramble. He hands over his phone, “Isn’t it odd that we don’t have each other’s numbers?”

“Well we’ve been like conjoined twins for a great deal of the time,” she jokes. “Plus, my little black beepers won’t reach the city.”

“Now you can send me those photos we took when I chopped up wood.”

“Oh I can!” she brightens, as if the idea just occurred to her now like he wasn’t longing for those photos. He had always forgot to ask, only remembering right before he was about to sleep.

He chuckles, stepping forward to kiss her cheek, “Thank you for lunch, chérie. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Let me know how your meeting with Martin goes.”

“I will, every detail,” he pecks her lips one more time and then turns towards the door while grabbing a sweater. Aurie follows him down the stairs and locks the door behind him.

There’s a gnawing feeling in Aurie’s chest as she checks her phone. After having spent hours moving around the furniture of the ballroom to make room for the Summer Gala’s decorations and tables, she finally had the time to sit in her car to eat a quick snack. She just now decides to stop working on the room because of her grumbling stomach, having gotten so immersed with the designs Angie’s assistant had thought of.

Now, checking her phone, there’s a message from Camille. Her and Camille were in the ballroom together decorating but Camille had to leave to pick up Simone from daycare.

She opens the message that sends her to a tweet, the tweet reading in all caps:

BOMBAZO: KYLIAN MBAPPÉ RUMORED TO LEAVE PARIS SAINT-GERMAIN. THE FRENCHMAN COULD FINALLY BE ON HIS WAY TO REAL MADRID. VERY IMPORTANT NEXT WEEKS.

Her eyebrows furrow at the tweet and Camille’s five question marks. Her and Kylian haven’t talked about his football plans so she has no idea whether it was true. She scrolls mindlessly through a Twitter thread that links him to certain teams since the beginning of June. She remained clueless to all of the transfer news surrounding him, and she wonders if Kylian had done so too.

Although she doubts it—all the missed phone calls, the missed texts from his parents that he tried to hide—they had always been there. He is clearly ignoring them for a reason, and for a halting minute, her throat goes dry thinking about how much she brushed off his tensed mood when those phone calls would occur. She noticed them but did nothing, Kylian assuring her that it wasn’t anything serious.

Aurie had never been great at the “talking” part of therapy, and she knew it was one of her greatest weaknesses. She often found it difficult trying to give her patient advice when they were going through a challenging time—and it was ironic because it was part of her job. She wasn’t a therapist, but empathy and understanding were required. She needed to know how a patient was doing mentally in order to know how they would perform their rehab exercises when she wasn’t present, and Kylian possibly dealing with the constant back and forth of something this grand the entire time, well she was going to need Dr. Minic’s phone number on speed dial.

Pulling out of the parking lot and heading home, Aurie suppresses whatever rumors were floating the Internet. She isn’t entirely surprised by the news, having been prepared for the possibility of the media’s involvement with Kylian before he came. It is why he is at her house instead of Paris in the first place.

“What the fuck,” she mutters as she enters her driveway. Bleu is at the front of the gravel driveway, sniffing where the grass meets the gravel. It’s unusual to see him this far from the front of the house. He knew to stay either in the house or in the backyard when she was gone, and he learned very early on to follow those rules.

She lowers her window, “Bleu!”

He doesn’t perk his head up at her, nor did he do so when she first entered the driveway. He is eliciting a high-pitched whine as if he is in pain, and his movements are skittish. Aurie’s worry grows, she whistles at him and finally his head snaps up at her. His cries grow as he suddenly spins in circles and barks. Aurie puts the car in park and immediately gets out, rushing to his side.

She spots a red, bloody gash on his snout as she drops to her knees. She doesn’t even feel the searing pain that shoots to her knees as the gravel scrapes them, “Oh my god.” Bleu shakes his head while Aurie stills him, examining his cut. It was too deep to have been an accident—unless a tree had fallen right on top of him.

Bleu lets out another shriek as she examines the rest of his head. His teeth show hints of red in them, and immediately Aurie’s worry turns to panic and anger. The black fur of one of his legs glistens from the blood trailing down it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whispers.

Aurie looks around, searching for any signs of what happened. Bleu could have surely gotten in a fight with an animal or an unleashed dog. He was territorial and could sniff any ill-intent from someone or something. But was she sure? Not at all.

She hops back in the car with Bleu and drives forward to the entrance of her house. The gnawing feeling in her throat has yet to go away and Bleu continues to whine. She unlocks her door without trouble, despite Bleu’s insistent cries.

“What is it?” she whispers. Bleu dashes up the stairs, Aurie following him closely. There she suddenly notices the glass on the stairs, shrapnels littering the corridor, dramatically spilling into the entrance of Kylian's bedroom. Bleu lays down in the corner as she notices the rock right next to him. She wants to scream. Bleu is walking and laying underneath glass that had most likely penetrated his paws by now. But there is also a giant, gaping hole in her window.

She isn’t sure what to deal with first.

Heart pounding and fingers trembling as she dials Camille’s number, she holds in a muffled sob that escapes her mouth once Camille answers.

“Hello?”

Aurie isn’t sure how she does it, but Camille and Raphael are immediately at her house within a couple of minutes. Simone is alongside the two of them, clinging onto her mother in Raphael’s truck as he goes and searches the house for any intruders. It won’t have mattered anyway since Bleu and Aurie stay glued in the same position upstairs in the corridor staring at each other in shock.

She had ordered Bleu to stay down to prevent him from further injury, but she was paralyzed with shock to make a move. Bleu barked dreadfully once he heard Raphael’s truck pull in, but his tail immediately wagged once he saw him rush up the stairs.

Raphael was the one to pull Aurie out of her trance, his hands carefully wrapping around both of her shoulders to stand in front of her, “Hey, come on. It’s safe, alright?” She could only recognize him by his brown curls, his face blurred from her tears. Aurie’s ragged breathing suddenly turned into deep labored breaths, Raphael’s hands grew tighter the second, “I’m right here, it’s okay. Aurie. Breathe with me, alright?”

Raphael snapped his fingers in front of her as her eyes scattered across the room. He guided her breaths, instructing her when to inhale and exhale. Finally, as Aurie came out of her frightened state, she collapsed into Raphael’s arms and sobbed.

It took her about ten minutes of Raphael holding her and reassuring her that the house was safe for her to release him.

“What happened?” she murmurs.

“I think someone came to the house and threw the rock. Judging by Bleu’s gash, maybe they hit him with a stick? I think he might have bit them, so I'll file a report with the police. It shouldn’t take long until someone turns up to the hospital with a dog bite. I found a shirt outside, it was just outside where the window is. There was a sizable bite mark,” Raphael explains.

Aurie digests his words, figuring out how she could stomach the idea of someone hurting Bleu, “Did the rock have a message on it?”

He purses his lips, “It did.”

“What did it say?” Raphael swallows, Aurie watches his Adam’s apple bop as he looks away from her. She wipes her tears, “Spit it out, Rafa.”

“It said, ‘Traître.’”

Aurie wishes that would have sent her to another comatose state but it doesn’t. Instead, it stabs directly into her heart. Not only had Kylian’s news began mass hysteria on Twitter, but they found out where she lived. Her safe place, her home. How could someone have possibly found out?

“The police are on the way,” Raphael says. “But we should get Bleu cleaned up before anything else.”

She doesn’t have time to ponder because he is right. There is a very terrified Simone downstairs and Bleu needs assistance.

“Okay,” she exhales. “Can you pick up Bleu and bring him to the downstairs restroom? I’ll go get the girls, and then you can deal with the police when they come.”

Raphael nods and Aurie turns on her heels to head back downstairs. Glass crunches beneath her shoes with each step. She musters up the fear on her face before she goes outside. Camille has Simone on her lap as she motions them to come out.

“Are you okay?”

“Tatie Aurie!”

Simone’s tear-stained cheeks override Camille’s question, “Hi, bébé, don’t cry, I’m okay.” The blotches of red on her yellow shirt and knees say otherwise. Simone reaches for her aunt and Aurie frowns when she has to deny her, “I’m a little dirty right now, Simi, I can’t hug you. But I promise when I get cleaned up I will, okay?”

Simone nods, “Are you okay?”

“Yes I am,” she beams. Camille locks the truck and holds Simone tight in her arms. Aurie explains to the both of them that there are shards of glass scattered in her house. Some pieces made it down the stairs so Simone wasn’t to be touching the ground at all.

“Bleu got attacked by another dog, Simi,” Aurie lies, Camille’s eyes flickering towards her. “So we have to give him a bath because he’s bleeding a little bit, and he got scared so he accidentally stepped on the glass.”

“But Bleu knows how to fight.”

Aurie would have laughed if she had the energy, instead she nods, “He sure does…I think he was outnumbered this time. I heard the other dogs had to go to the hospital.”

She forces a smile out to Simone and she snickers, “Poor doggies, hopefully they’re okay too.”

“They’ll be okay,” Aurie promises. “We have to bathe him, alright?” Simone nods, her tiny, giddy smile returning to her face.

Raphael gently placed Bleu on the floor of Kylian’s shower. Camille puts Simone on the sink, setting up an episode of Paw Patrol, so that she doesn’t pay attention to the blood flushing down the shower drain.

After Aurie meticulously picks out the glass out of Bleu’s paws, she bathes him and wraps his paws with gauze, and puts on his little booties that he would usually wear during gritty hiking trails. Raphael and Camille clean up the downstairs first after the police come in and take pictures. Aurie is able to give them a statement in the middle of cleaning Bleu, but Raphael seems to know more. He is a private investigator after all, the clues scream at him like a partially-solved puzzle.

The police leave shortly after Aurie’s statement, letting the three of them clean up the rest. Aurie hadn’t even thought about where she’d be sleeping at for the night, and for fucks sake, her cat!

“Shit,” she mutters, running up the stairs, passing a crouched down Raphael on the stairs. She swings Kylian’s door and goes to his closet, Maple always hid there for comfort. And sure enough, there’s a wide-eyed gray ball of fur meowing at her.

“Maple,” she sighs. She scratches her head while Maple purrs loudly at the contact but stays put. Aurie didn’t want to disturb her and knew that it was better for her to be away from the chaos anyway. She leaves her, shutting Kylian’s bedroom door and going back to cleaning.

Meanwhile, Kylian’s car is swerving into the driveway as three police cars file out. His hands won’t stop trembling as he rereads Camille’s text that he needed to get to Aurie’s house as soon as possible. Watching the police cars zoom past his window makes him feel sick as practically begs Mac to go around them.

“C’est quoi ce bordel,” he curses. As soon as the van stops, he jumps out. Mac and Paul call out for him but to no avail, hastily following him. Raphael opens the door before Kylian can do so. Raphael steps out and raises his hand, “Wait.”

“Is she okay?” Kylian exclaims, his voice is so hoarse that he doesn’t even recognize it. “What happened?”

Kylian’s heart clenches as Raphael stays quiet. He looks behind Kylian before nodding stoicly, “She’s okay—”

“Let me in,” Kylian steps towards the door but Raphael stops him. His hand wraps around Kylian’s wrist and Kylian gapes. Paul and Mac step forward and Raphael immediately drops his wrist.

Raphael glances down at him, “Someone threw a rock at the upstairs window. Aurie is okay, she wasn’t here when it happened. Bleu got injured but he’s okay.”

Kylian can’t believe it. His body goes slack at the idea of someone coming here and attacking Aurie’s home. His fist instinctively tightens as he repeats, “Let me go in there.” He hates how impassive Raphael is despite the seriousness of the situation.

“You have to be calm. My daughter is here and is already scared, she doesn’t know the exact truth,” Raphael warns.

“I’m calm,” Kylian repeats but Raphael doesn’t bulge. He can make out the blatant fear and worry in Kylian’s eyes. It’s justified, but the girls finally began to calm down and there was no way he was going to let Kylian ruin it.

Kylian tries again to open the door but Raphael stops him. “Kylian—”

Kylian grows impatient, “What the fuck is your problem?”

“You need to calm down.”

“I am.”

“No you aren’t,” Raphael retorts.

“Va te faire foutre!” Kylian spits while Raphael remains unfazed. He rolls his eyes at Kylian’s harsh expression.

“I’ve already told you, if you and your guys step into this house uneasy, you will scare them and that’s the last thing either of them need. I’ve already checked out the house, the police just left. Everyone is okay.”

Kylian chews on the inside of the lips. That meant Aurie came home hours ago, hours passed without a notification from her that something happened. While he was having dinner with his parents, and waiting nervously for a response from her about meeting his family, she had been home. It now makes sense why she didn’t answer; Camille’s timing was almost perfect whenever she sent the text because they were already on their way back to Aurie’s. Granted, they were still thirty minutes away so it was tormentous not hearing from anyone and those thirty minutes felt like hours.

“When did this happen?” Kylian whispers.

Raphael checks his watch, “Almost three hours ago. There was a lot going on, Kylian. I told Camille to let you know.”

“Okay,” Kylian mutters. He was in Paris anyway, there was only so much he could’ve done had he known.

“Simi thinks Bleu got attacked by another dog,” Raphael says sheepishly, “and that he knocked down a vase which made the glass shatter. Just go along with it, alright?”

Kylian nods, giving Mac and Paul a look to back down. Raphael stares at the two men before turning towards Kylian. He opens the door and lets Kylian in. Kylian’s eyes dart around the house in search of Aurie but she’s nowhere to be found. It’s as if the entire room is silent although it isn’t. Simone is bouncing at his feet and Camille is staring at him from the living room with a concerned facial expression. Raphael has to squeeze his shoulder to knock him out of his fear.

“Simi,” Kylian breathes, his voice exasperated.

“Keelan!” she smiles brightly but then her smile falters, “Bleu got in a fight.”

His breaths are ragged as he gives her a shaky nod, “Your dad told me.”

Usually, he is good at putting up a façade. It came with his job, but he can’t bear to do it to Simone’s puppy-like eyes, especially when he doesn’t know where Aurie is. For all he knows, she is injured somewhere.

Simone folds her hand in front of her stomach, “You look like you’re going to throw up, Keelan.”

Raphael intervenes and hoists his daughter up, “How about we give Kylian a minute to settle in?”

Simone frowns, “And then he can play with me?”

Raphael waits for Kylian to respond but he doesn’t, Raphael answers for him, “Sure.”

Kylian stares at the two of them blankly. Not only had he put Aurie at risk, but he also put a four year-old in danger. With that knowledge, he wants to hurl. To wake up from whatever nightmare he was experiencing, that it had all been a dream.

Camille comes to him, her face able to read his concern, “She’s upstairs.”

Kylian softly nods as he goes upstairs. The bottom window is covered in a blue, thick tarp. He grits his teeth at the sight. It’s next to his bedroom door, but on the other side of it is a window that directly fed into Aurie’s bedroom. The restroom door is wide open, Aurie’s shadow moving in the light that cascades out.

His breath trembles at the sight of her; her leg up on the sink while she puts a large bandage on red-marked knee. She turns towards him and lets out a chortle with a shaky smile, “This is a sight, hmm?”

Kylian crashes into her. His weight catches her off-balance but he holds her tightly before she can fall. He inhales her soapy scent like it’s a lifeline, tears brimming in his eyes as he nuzzles his head into her neck.

“You’re okay,” he mumbles. He reels back and scans her face, his hand cradles her jaw as he searches every part of her skin that he can see. He presses his lips together, “Why didn’t you call me?”

Aurie finds her balance, adjusting her shirt that had ridden up when Kylian hugged her. “I’m sorry, you were in Paris. You were having a busy day. I didn't want to interrupt it.”

“Interrupt?” Kylian questions. “Aurie this wouldn’t have been an interruption.”

Her eyes flicker away, “I’m sorry.”

He shakes her head, “Don’t be. I’m sorry about this. I’m sorry this happened to you and your family. How is Bleu?”

“He’s okay. He’s in my bedroom resting.”

Kylian pinches the nasal bridge of his nose, “You should’ve called me.”

Aurie can’t help but to feel defensive for a second. What was he supposed to do with that phone call? He was an hour away, there was no way he would possibly be able to help her at that moment. She swallows her thoughts. It was nearly ten at night, and her body was already coursing with emotions.

“How are you?” Kylian asks, resting the weight of his body against the sink.

“Still a little shaken up, but I’m calming down.” She stares back at him and Kylian’s eyes convey more words than he has to say. She’s still a bit on edge, and seeing Kylian on the verge of bursting, she isn’t sure how many more seconds of silence she can endure. There are hints of something other than fear.

She glances back up at him, “What is it, Kylian?”

He chews his bottom lip, debating to ask the question. “Was this…my fault?”

Aurie’s sincere eyes almost break him. They soften upon his fearful gaze, as if his entire life depended on her answer. She could feel his guilt seeping out of him through the space that separates them. Aurie blinks away her tears rapidly, shaking her head, “No, Kylian, this wasn’t your fault.”

“It was—”

“No it wasn’t,” she quiets, feeling guilty for lying to him.

“Aurie—”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she says curtly. “This wasn’t your fault, alright? It was a random attack. Raphael is already getting information from the police, he’ll tell us everything.”

“How do you know he won’t lie?” he whispers. It almost halts her own lie to Kylian, but she looks past him. Somehow she is always calming him down in situations in which she should’ve been the one panicking, but she had already panicked, already had her time to stress out. He hadn’t.

“He’s never been a liar.”

Kylian’s eyes dance between the two of her and she holds her breath hoping that she believes him. Raphael isn’t a liar, never to the ones he loved. He protected them with everything—but, he is great at omitting the truth to strangers. Aurie isn’t sure if Raphael fully trusted Kylian if she were to think about it, the two of them hadn’t interacted much anyway.

He gives her a slight nod, pulling her into another hug. Aurie wraps her arms around him, breathing him in for comfort. She can feel his rapidly thumping heartbeat.

The two of them, Bleu and Maple included, slept in the guest bedroom of Raphael and Camille’s home. Although neither of them could sleep. Aurie’s back was pressed up against Kylian’s frontside, the both of them staring ahead into the dark window, not knowing the other was awake. Kylian’s lips were hovering over her shoulder, his arm tucked alongside her front side holding her close.

But he feels suffocated. He still can’t grasp the thought of Aurie lying to him. They are a close-knit family, going to protect each of their own before him. But what was doing them any good stringing Kylian along when he was potentially the problem? He debated it back and forth in his head, that Aurie wasn’t lying and it was a random attack, or that she was and somehow trying to protect him. For what?

Kylian kisses her shoulder before slithering his arm out of her grasp, rolling over and grabbing his phone. He slips out of the bed and out of the bedroom. He picks up his shoes and texts Mac as he heads out the front door. Before he can send the text, he jumps at the sight of Raphael’s silhouette sitting on the bench in the front porch.

“Shh,” Raphael quiets him down.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Kylian whisper-shouts, his heart still racing at the scare.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Kylian’s heart thumps through his ear drums as he locks his phone, the text never going through. He puts his shoes on and stares back at Raphael confused. Raphael flicks on a lantern, he’s dressed up in black trousers with a navy buttoned polo.

“Where are you going?” Kylian furrows his brows.

“Where are you going?” Raphael poses instead.

“Cut the shit,” Kylian rolls his eyes.

Raphael stands up, leaning up against the pillar of his porch to look at Kylian, “I just got back from the police station.”

“You were gone this whole time?”

“Mm-hmm.” Kylian is grossly confused with what was happening. Raphael’s piercing eyes aren’t straying from him at all, the lantern casting a glow underneath his hooded eyes. Kylian looks away as Raphael repeats, “Where are you going?”

Kylian shrugs, “I needed air.”

Raphael purses his lips, “You’re leaving.”

Kylian sighs, his shoulders growing tense, “It seems like you’d want me gone anyway.”

He shakes his head, “I don’t. I think I may have read you wrong.”

“How did you read me then?”

“I thought you would stay when times were hard,” Raphael replies nonchalantly. “Here you are leaving the second you get the chance, so I was wrong. You know she loves you, pathetically so.”

Kylian’s mind stills at his confession. Not only at his harsh, partially true words, but of Aurie possibly loving him. He doesn’t feel deserving of it, not after all that she had been doing for him. Sure he had his fair share moments to prove his own love for her, but it didn’t feel enough. He couldn’t even say it when they shared their most intimate moments. Maybe his actions spoke louder, but here he was, debating about leaving her in the dark of the night.

Raphael shakes his head, tsking his teeth, “I won’t tell her about this, but you should really think before you do next time. It’s not a good look—”

“Aurie isn’t pathetic,” Kylian defends.

“No she isn’t,” Raphael stills, “but you are.”

If looks could kill, Raphael would be six feet under, but he isn’t at all intimidated by Kylian’s dark eyes. Kylian tastes copper as he pries his eyes away from Raphael. He can’t argue back with him. He knew he was right, the guilt crawling up his spine.

Moments pass while the two of them stand there in silence. Kylian’s mind still ablaze thinking about Aurie’s home, and Raphael seems to be the only one who has the answers.

“Aurie said you weren’t a liar,” Kylian says. “Can you be honest?” Raphael nods, folding his arms while his brows furrow. “Did the rock say something? Or a note? Anything?”

Raphael clears his throat, looking behind Kylian and then back at him. Kylian’s heart clenches at his look.

It is totally his fault.

“It did,” Raphael rasps. “It said ‘traitor’ in French, written in red paint.”

Kylian’s throat threatens to close up as he chokes on the night air. Raphael stares at him dumbfoundedly as Kylian turns away to get a hold of his breathing. His worst nightmare is playing out in front of him, even worse that it happened when he was gone.

“Kylian,” Raphael calls out. “We already arrested who was in charge of it.”

“‘We?’” Kylian wheezes.

“I’m an investigator. Jesus, get a hold of yourself.”

“I put all of you in danger!”

Raphael grabs a hold of Kylian’s forearm, “Aurie wasn’t lying when she said you carry the world on your shoulders. You give yourself too much credit.”

“What?”

“It was some sick guy from her old class with Martin. He was jealous that Aurie, five years younger than him, was ranked higher than him. Way smarter and always Martin’s preferred aide because she was a quick learner and knew her stuff. He saw you and her pictured together at the Roland Garros, got word of your rumors, and went to her house to scare the both of you.”

Kylian can’t drop the look of bewilderment on his face, too stunned at the story. It is a compelling revelation, but he still had so many questions, “How did he know where she lived? And—and how do you know there aren’t others? That he wasn’t working with someone else?”

“Do you think I’m bad at my job?”

“Rafa—”

Raphael lets go of his forearm now that he seems to have calmed down, “Aurie hosted a party years ago at her house, a graduation party of sorts. He remembered the address. He didn’t know you were living with her and we didn’t give it away either. It was only him, we pried.”

“Pried?” Kylian squeaks.

“The point is, she’s safe. Bleu did his job, we questioned him at the hospital and trust me, he was more upset about the dog than his charges,” Raphael says, his tone serious.

Kylian’s unsettling heart beat finally calms down the longer he digests Raphael’s words. He is still shocked, but grateful to know it was an isolated attack. A tiny part of him is annoyed to know Aurie lied to him, but he isn’t going to hold it past her head. He is just glad that she isn’t in danger, and that she didn’t have to give up her home.

“For a moment,” Kylian murmurs, his breath heavy, “I thought you despised me.”

Raphael chuckles, “No, I would’ve if you had left. You’re a great guy, Kylian, you wouldn’t have been introduced to my daughter if I despised you.”

Kylian exhales deeply, nodding, “I’m going to tell Aurie that I almost left, so you don’t have to keep it a secret.”

He snorts, “I wasn’t going to. She’s like my little sister, I was going to tell her immediately when she woke up.”

Kylian smiles, his cheeks stiff from having gritted his teeth for so long. He expects nothing less from Raphael. “Thank you, Rafa. I’m sorry about this.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“How long have you and Camille been together?” Kylian changes the topic to something lighter.

He shrugs, “For about twenty years—” Kylian furrows his eyebrows while Raphael laughs, “—asked her out when I was eight years-old. We never separated.” He says it as if it’s no big deal, as if he isn’t happily married to his childhood sweetheart now, with careers they both enjoy and a daughter.

“And Aurie? You’ve known her since she was little then?”

He blows out a raspberry, “She was a force. Constantly straying away from the two of us and buying things at the store. She was always able to get a discount because the people loved her. Restaurants would let us eat for free because Aurie charmed them.” Kylian chuckles, beaming at his memories of her.

Kylian blurts, “Do you really think she loves me?”

Raphael gives him a dubious look, “God, you are clueless.”

“I don’t want to ruin this for her—”

“Well she fell in love with whatever you showed her,” he states as if it’s the most obvious thing. “You’ll be fine, Kylian. She’s never let just anybody meet Simi, or us for that matter. I don’t recall ever meeting someone.”

“She said she didn’t have a choice,” Kylian voices aloof.

“She didn’t,” he agrees, “but she would’ve sent you away if she didn’t trust you. I wouldn’t have even entertained the idea as well.”

“What,” Kylian bluffs, “did you investigate me too?”

“Of course,” Raphael says. Kylian’s eyes grow wide at his answer, not expecting one. “Nothing bad.” Raphael laughs, squeezing Kylian’s shoulder, “We should get some sleep.”

Kylian is able to stall, getting answers out of him about Aurie’s past, like the girls’ mother, Raphael tells him the same thing: that she wasn’t the same after her accident. He tells him about how their life was before Elina’s accident and the moments afterward. Kylian grieves the idea of how much tighter their family was when her parents were together, and the brief moments they shared when they were in the same house. Raphael tells him more stories of their childhood, like the time Aurie tricked them all into thinking she broke her leg, only finally admitting it was a joke after they called for emergency services. Kylian shares his own family tales, Raphael entertaining the idea of their families meeting, and even being open to it happening soon.

Kylian is able to strike up a deal with Raphael to find Stefan, the little boy from the Netherlands that Aurie had helped. Kylian in return, had to supply him and his family a season’s worth of tickets to the upcoming season. Raphael knew about Stefan, the boy often being mentioned by Aurie when she first started working with him and his family. Raphael had met him a couple of times as well. Kylian just wanted to invite Stefan to the next match.

Finally, Kylian runs out of questions and lets Raphael go to sleep.

When Kylian finally returns to the bedroom, Aurie rolls over towards the door, eyes blinking trying to adjust to adjust to the door opening.

“Kylian?”

“Yes, mon amour?” Kylian whispers, picking up the blankets and scooping her in his arms. She rests her head on his chest, arms slithering around him.

“Where did you go?” she mumbles.

“Outside, have you been awake this whole time?”

“Yeah,” she says sheepishly. “I couldn’t sleep.” Kylian reaches over to turn on the lamp on the side of the bed, Aurie peeking up at him. She notices his tensed jaw and sits up, “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Kylian quiets. He sits up and pecks her jaw, “Since you’re awake, how about we talk, yeah?” His hand creeps towards the side of her head and rests it gently there, giving her a small smile.

Aurie’s worry only grows while Kylian takes her hand in his, drawing soothing circles on top of her hands.

“I want you to be honest with me, even if it hurts me. I don’t care about my feelings, just be honest,” he starts, Aurie’s cheeks rise in temperature. “What did the rock say?”

“Kylian—” Aurie saddens.

“Shh, be honest.”

Aurie frowns, hands almost trembling if it weren’t for Kylian’s hand already wrapped around hers. Her gaze is down as she mumbles, “Traître.”

He smiles, pulling her to kiss her nose, “I love you.”

“What?”

“From now on, Aurèle, I don’t want you sparing my feelings. I don’t care if it’s to protect me, don’t lie to me—unless I am going to panic and you’re trying to calm me down—then that’s okay. But no more lying between the two of us, okay?”

Kylian’s words start to become a blur to Aurie, as well as her vision. She isn’t sure if she started crying when Kylian asked what was written on the rock or his confession of love, either way, she could only see his growing smile. Her look of bewilderment doesn’t stop him from continuing, going on as if what he said is no big deal.

Kylian wipes her tears with his thumbs, Aurie’s memorized with the feeling of his thumb pads stroking her cheeks and the way his eyes are so concentrated on the task. He looked so serene, so calm. Inviting even. Such a simple act that he made more intimate just by his eyes. More tears spill from Aurie’s eyes and his eyebrows pinch together as he tries to keep up.

Aurie swipes his hands away, tackling him until his back hits against the blankets. He chuckles in her shoulder as his hands wrap around her waist.

“Aurèle!” he whisper-shouts. “We have to be quiet, they’re sleeping.”

“I love you,” she confesses, a whimsical smile on her as she looks down at Kylian. Her body is pressed entirely on him, her elbows propped so that she can look at him, but even then it’s not enough. Kylian places his hands behind his head to look at her, exasperated.

“I don’t think I heard you right,” he smirks.

She pinches the skin near his ribcage and he scowls, pushing her to his side as he turns to face her. They share a kiss as he repeats, “I love you.”

Aurie’s arms wrap around him securely while Kylian’s hand firmly presses against her waist. She reels back from the kiss, “I’m sorry for lying to you earlier. You looked like you couldn’t take any more bad news for the day that I couldn’t, Kylian—I couldn’t be the one to tell you that.”

Kylian presses his lips together, “It’s okay, Aurie. I can handle a lot more than you think. I know how to, and I don’t ever want you to feel like you have to spare my feelings or else I’ll be upset. I’ll be okay, I’ll get over it or find a solution.”

Aurie nods as Kylian strokes her cheek again as if he were deliberately massaging the stress away. “You were gone for a while.”

He sighs, “I was going to leave.”

“Leave?”

“Mm-hmm. I know what I can handle and what I can’t. What I can’t handle is knowing that my presence was putting you and Camille’s family in danger. You guys are a close-knit family, and sometimes I feel like I’m not a part of it. That’s okay, but outsiders should be quiet. They shouldn’t be putting you all in danger.”

Aurie’s heart momentarily breaks at the thought of Kylian feeling singled-out. She had always tried her best to include him the few times she went out and for the most part she did, but the times they weren’t together, Aurie would be with her family while he was away with his. He hadn’t been around Camille and Raphael for a while, missing relationships that could’ve been formed.

He continues “I was a little upset that you lied to me but I understand it now. It would’ve been a lot to stomach right then and there.”

“I’m so sorry, Kylian.” Her voice trembles from his words.

“It’s okay, chérie. I don’t think I would’ve lasted an hour without you,” he chuckles. “I spoke to Raphael outside, he was out there too. It’s kind of why I took so long…”

Kylian tells her everything Raphael told him, reassuring her that she would be okay at her home. Kylian recommends letting him have a couple of his security guards at her house so that she can feel safer for the next few weeks.

She lets out a tired chuckle, “…I was just thinking about cameras, not a whole team.”

“It’s up to you,” Kylian kisses her cheek again, wincing at how cold she felt. He draws her closer towards him, hoping to warm her up, “Bleu would have to meet them so that he doesn’t accidentally attack them.”

Aurie nods, “That would be wise.” She lets out a yawn, and Kylian reaches over to turn off the lamp and then snuggles back into her arms.

“I love you, Aurèle,” he mumbles.

“You didn’t tell me about your day!” she remembers, nudging him.

“Shh,” he closes his eyes. “I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow morning, amour.”

“Fine,” she pouts. Kylian opens his eyes and is able to see her bottom lip puckering out. He snickers, kissing her lips. “I love you, too.”

Note: I'm not sure when I will be able to update next, so I've left you guys off with a little bit of fluff. Unfortunately, I had to take an unexpected class last summer that I didn't anticipate, which made me take a month to update. And now I am back in uni with a harsher schedule, I will try to update asap but I really can't promise anything. I apologize for leaving Kylian's day "unknown", any thoughts on how the dinner with his parents and lawyer went? 😏 As always, I appreciate everyone who has read and commented their thoughts whether through anon or a one-word comment, you guys are the best.❤️

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tar-thelien · 3 months

Text

Just finished it - anywayyy here is my Melkor x Nienna & Angbang fic I wrote on yesterday and today, I made it into a series as I want to explore it more in the future :)

Summary:

Mairon encounters Mbelekōre at a party, celebrating Mbelekōre return to Ilmarin following yet another of his exploits. They engage in a conversation about the concept of perfection, delving into its intricacies and philosophies while the Vala patiently anticipates the arrival of someone who holds a special place in his heart.

Words: 2799

Notes:

I tried to write Melkor as really selfish but still a simp around Neinna and I think I did it pretty well Also, Melkor is such a loser and I love it for him 😌 Translations at the end

Mairon strolled through the vibrant marble corridors of Ilmarin, his eyes scanning for a secluded chamber or even a balcony where he could retreat to gather his thoughts and distance himself from the bustling gathering. The exquisite hues of the marble walls reflected a kaleidoscope of colors, creating a mesmerizing environment around him as he sought solace from the festivities.

Mbelekore's return marked a significant event, prompting the celebration with a grand party. While he appreciated the joyous atmosphere of such gatherings and the opportunity to dress in finery, an opportunity he would never turn down, there were always other activities that captivated his interest to a higher degree. However, the return of Mbelekore, the mightiest among them all, it was only fitting to pay tribute to his stature and esteemed position within their community, he just wished Aȝūlēz could have taken another with him.

Mairon, while unfamiliar with the Vala, as he had never had the opportunity to be near him, had gathered knowledge about him through hearsay. Ilmarë once suggested that if there were a Vala known for joyous spirits and celebration, it would undoubtedly be Mbelekōre. Despite the chaos often trailing in his wake, Mbelekōre possessed a talent for injecting mirth into any gathering, eliciting smiles and laughter from those around him. His gatherings were said to outshine even the renowned Arǭmēz, though Mairon had never experienced them firsthand and thus refrained from offering personal judgment on the matter. But his Midu was the best, and now that Mairon had tasted it for the first time at this feast, he found himself inclined to believe the others - truly if a Vala could make better Midu than Arǭmēz, then he could make better feasts than Arǭmēz too.

It was at this feast, however, that Mairon saw Mbelekōre for the first time, although from a distance, hidden behind other Maiar.

As noted by Eönwë, who was known to never turn down the opportunity to criticize Mbelekōre, why would anyone seek the company of one who had strayed from Eru's ways? The question lingered in Mairon's mind: Why did Mbelekōre attract the attention of numerous Maiar? Why was the always someone constantly engaged with him? While Mairon suspected merely curiosity, his own curiosity was piqued, and during the early stages of the feast, he witnessed the spectacle himself. Mbelekōre stood out like a radiant white flame in his resplendent golden attire, evoking a desire in Mairon to approach and observe the robe closely to see how it was made and all the details he knew to be there. Seated in a relaxed manner, Mbelekōre conversed effortlessly with the assembled Maiar, as if he owned Taniquetil itself.

To make it short, Mairon had seen a glimpse of the Vala, and already decided he didn´t like him.

Why did all those Maiar find such an arrogant character intriguing? It's worth noting that Mbelekōre wasn't the sole arrogant Vala; in fact, the majority of them possessed that trait. However, unlike most Valar who primarily interacted amongst themselves, and themselves only, Mbelekōre appeared to exhibit a greater interest in the Maiar, more than that he showed to his own siblings.

Observing a smile on his lips as he suddenly noticed an ajar doorway that beckoned him into a dimly lit chamber he without hesitation hastened his pace and entered the dark empty room.

Upon entering he came across a couch placed directly across from a wide open window, and sitting on that couch was an enigmatic figure. The being didn´t sound off anything so Mairon had to use his mortal form to see them, as he could not hear who they were in their music, as non sounded from them. As he approached the mysterious person, a sense of curiosity mingled with a hint of apprehension, intensifying the anticipation of the impending revelation.

The being was attired in a snug black top that extended up to cover their necks and down towards their hands, paired with form fitting leggings as well as intricate white and gold embroidery shoes, reminiscent of tiny serpents almost appearing to devour the leather they were on. Their long white hair was styled into five thick, loosely woven braids fastened with golden clasps at the ends, making it look like the hair fastened into flowing gold at the end, framing a pallid, elongated face, painted with gold, accentuated by striking crimson eyes hurt looking into.

It was strange for any Ainur to be silent, as the power of silence was typically associated with Eru and certain beings from the Void such as Ungoliant, as per popular belief. He was unaware that one of these enigmatic entities had been extended an invitation - perhaps Mbelekōre had established a connection with one during his searching for the sacred flame.

He apologetically muttered, averting his gaze towards the floor while subtly ensuring he maintained a visual on the silhouette before him, "I apologize for my oversight, I had no knowledge of your presence," he softly spoke, as he made to leave the room.

The creature asked, "it seems quite noisy outside, don't you think?" turning to glance out the window once more, "you are welcome to remain here, as long as you do not disturb me. I have grown weary of all the fuss."

“All what?” Mairon asked the being as he walked close, not yet sitting.

"Them. They behave as though everything is fine as if all has changed for the better, and they persistently surround me, refusing to give me any peace. It is overwhelmingly noisy.”

"I eagerly await the presence of Melā Kherī," the being said without specifying who they were waiting on, "she assured me that she would join me shortly; she is currently engaged in a conversation with Vê, but she said she came only for me. In her presence, I always find solace and calm, and indeed, who does not? She is the only blessing of father that matters.”

Mairon observed the gold and white robes placed next to the figure, each adorned with exquisite gems and intricate embroidery featuring snakes and winged lizards. The robes lying on the couch prompted a realization within him. Oh.

"My sole purpose in being present here today is to once more hear her, for I miss her more than mine own brother. The grace and allure she possesses are truly remarkable, and she truly possesses the skill to state it through her mortal form as well," Mbelekōre spoke without shifting his gaze, "do we share a past encounter? You sound as if I should know you."

“I- I go by the name Mairon," he attempted to articulate with a composed tone, "holding the position of chief smith of Árātō Aȝūlēz.”

Mbelekōre chuckled softly before speaking, "indeed, my brother has acquainted me with your achievements, and he holds you in high regard, Maira."

“Mairon. If it pleases Árātō.”

This time Mbelekōre directed his intense gaze towards Mairon with a frown, a sight seldom experienced when observing Ainur in their earthly manifestations. Reflecting on this unprecedented display of emotions, it dawned on Mairon that perhaps it was a conscious act from Mbelekōre side, "how does my satisfaction relate to your preferred designation? I have the liberty to address you both as Mairon or Maira without hindrance. It does not make a difference for me."

“You are most gracious Árātō,” Mairon said with a bow.

“Belegúr.”

“Árātō?”

“Belegúr. That is what they shall call me. Father´s pets that is,” he said with a slight smile.

“I- I am confused Árātō,” Mairon said as he walked closer to the smiling Vala.

"The Minnónar! Many names they will bestow upon me, yet Melkóre and Belegúr resound most pleasingly to my ears. But let us keep such knowledge from Mānawenūz, for he will only make sure they change it, as a joke that is. Mine brother would give me the lamps, should I make such a request, think no foul of him, though he does spike my temper at times," he chuckled, reclining comfortably on the sofa, "tell me, Maia, have you not once harbored the desire to behold them? To witness a realm beyond the confines of your own or Aȝūlēz's forge? Or that of the magnificent gardens of Palúrien! Do you not yearn to gaze upon the fruits of our collaborative efforts?"

Mairon let out a disdainful hiss. Arrogant indeed. The irony of the Vala before him being dubbed the wisest was not lost on him as he praised the "wonders" of Arda, all the while engaging in actions that threatened its very existence. With a sneer, he remarked, "you appear to lack any appreciation for Arda yourself, Árātō.”

Belegúr appeared puzzled as he gazed, "what we have made? love it," he said. However, Mairon, in contrast, shook his head disapprovingly and remarked, "yet, you were the one who attempted to dismantle it, more than once."

Belegúr firmly declared, "No, I would never contemplate such actions. I simply undertook what was essential. Arda cannot be confined to just valleys and seas; she craves the presence of mountains and rivers," he paused before shifting his gaze nervously towards Mairon and asked, "do you seek solace in a world devoid of chaos and conflict? Would you truly enjoy a peaceful world?”

What question was this? Of course, he would! If Mbelekōre had just left them alone all would have been perfect and he would never have had to talk to Eönwë or Olórin, or many of the others. Ever. It would have saved him a lot of headage and time.

"Yes," he muttered, attempting to reassure himself, while envisioning a scenario where Arda existed without the meddling influence of Mbelekōre. In this alternate reality, the landscape would be adorned with lush Palúrien flora and the calm waters of Ullubōz would stretch endlessly. Despite one's location within this imagined world, the scenery would remain consistent – a harmonious display of natural beauty. In his mind's eye, he painted a portrait of perfection, envisioning a realm untouched by external disturbances.

Mbelekōre huffed at that, “tell me Mīrĭ: What defines perfection? I am eager to know - the term 'perfect' has crossed my ears frequently, yet its essence eludes me."

“Perfection is- Perfection is anything flawless. It is where everything is exactly right.”

Mbelekōre pondered, gazing out of his window again, "perfection isn't innate, is it? Maybe it's about striving to perfect something with our actions. Do you believe that everything around us is flawless?"

No. He did not think that. His thoughts diverged from that notion. Aȝūlēz would often turn a blind eye to imperfections in the tasks of other Maiar, becoming irate when Mairon attempted to correct them. On the other hand, Mānawenūz, excelled in no particular area, exhibiting a tendency towards sloppiness and dependence on his fellow Valar for resolutions. However, these sentiments were left unspoken.

“I believe,” Belegúr remarked, “that perfection lies in the exchanges that occur between individuals, where friendships are forged alongside rivalries. In a utopia where everything is flawless, the necessity of engaging with others diminishes, leading to a swift escalation of hatred and conflict born out of sheer boredom.”

“That would make you happy?” Mairon asked coldly.

“No. But it would be entertaining, I shall not lie about that, but no. I would like a perfect Arda too, but to have that you have to have chaos, to have a perfect Ëa everyone have to have a purpose, and no one has a purpose where there is no conflict,” Belegúr said with a shy look at something behind Mairon, “I would hate to see you without a purpose Melā, it would remove mine own I fear.”

"Ëa would not have been, if you had not been, Melā,” a soft voice murmured from behind, prompting Mairon to turn towards Núri who had appeared, clad in a white gown embellished with grey embroidery, accompanied by a brown cloak.

Surrounding her tear stained swollen eyes, the complexion displayed a rich dark brown hue that enveloped the black sclera and dark grey iris. Her cascading grey hair was intricately woven into a pair of modest braids that trailed down to her feet, gracefully framing her chest. A delicate silver circlet adorned with two earrings resembling glistening water droplets sat with opals elegantly held the edge of her hood in place.

With a measured pace, she approached Belegúr, extending her pale gray hand, notable for the additional weeping eye adorning its back. She tenderly brushed his white skin, her expression tinged with sadness. However, the true surprise came when she settled beside him, and he tiredly leaned into her touch, a faint smile gracing his features, revealing teeth akin to a feline’s. Their interaction unfolded in a quiet intimacy, as unspoken emotions played out between them. Despite the unconventional nature of their bond, a sense of mutual understanding and comfort seemed to envelop around them.

In a mesmerizing display, he melodiously sang the word "Melā," and the enchanting sound resonated beautifully, leaving Mairon utterly spellbound. The captivating melody sparked an intriguing thought within him – how would his own name be heard when carried by a voice that possessed that mesmerizing quality that could potentially rival even that of Eru's own.

"Melā, how beautiful you are, Ithīr," he tenderly leaned towards her, expressing his admiration and awe. Núri gracefully allowed him to rest his head in her lap, gazing up at her with adoration, as if she was the most precious being in existence, a sight the Mairon had never witnessed before between anyone. Perhaps it looked a bit like the looks shared between Aȝūlēz and Palúrien, though even the renowned bond between Mānawenūz and Baradā did not quite match the profound look exchanged between Belegúr and Núri he was witnessing.

"You, Melā, are a creation of unparalleled beauty, a sight that delights me, the most pleasing that has been ever created, for me and for Ëa both,” Belegúr declared with sincerity, as he lifted his own hand to caress her hair.

"Do not succumb to those thoughts at this moment, Melā," Núri replied with what sounded like a laugh, although strained as if her thoughts were filled with sorrows and worries, "will you not remain by my side for some time?"

"I shall stay to remain by your side for as long as possible, solely for you, and I shall return with tales and laughs for you to feast upon.”

"And you shall not allow the spark of fury to ignite within you upon its arrival?"

“I shall only take the light to give it to you should you ever ask Melā Kherī.”

“I only ask you not to hurt thyself, for that would course me greater sorrow than all else.”

“... you are beautiful in thy sorrow, but if it displeases you I shall control myself where father permits it.”

“I shall leave you know Árātō, you mentioned being tired and I would not wish to bother you, and Kherī,” Mairon said with a gentle descent to his knees, Mairon bowed his head respectfully before promptly rising and taking his leave from the presence of both Valar.

“I shall see you again Mīrĭ?” Belegúr asked, and if he sounded desperate, it was only in Mairon´s mind.

Mairon hastened back to the gathering hastily, choosing not to answer. He had been oblivious to the fact that Belegúr and Núri shared a romantic relationship. While he was aware of their strong bond, it was a surprise to him, just as it would be to anyone else who did not know. But maybe it wasn´t that big of a surprise, the more he thought about it.

Núri consistently spoke on his behalf, and he never caused any harm to her belongings; in fact, the situation was quite the contrary.

Mairon had received multiple reports from Olórin regarding Belegúr's whimsical actions of transforming her halls into gold, only for her to jestingly demand its restoration to its original state of grey stone, which Belegúr willingly obliged after a shared smile. It was said that Belegúr would adorn various locations with precious gems, strategically placing them where he anticipated her presence. It was rumored that, as per Olórin's reports, Belegúr had even converted her personal quarters within the halls into extravagant chambers of pure gold adorned with exquisite sapphires and opals and she had never asked him to change it for the joy it brought her. Allegedly, Belegúr had sought her approval for these lavish changes, presenting her with an abundance of jewelry as a gesture of liking whenever they met.

Perhaps they were destined to be together, it's possible that they were truly meant for each other. It wouldn't be uncommon among the Valar for marriages to occur later than that of Mānawenūz and Baradā after all.

---

Check it out on AO3 and leave me a comment if you liked it :)

Notes:

Melkor: I love Nienna, she is my lady love and she is the most beautiful creation of Eru ever - I would acutely stop destroying everything if she asked that of me bla bla bla also I´m so great bla bla bla Mairon: … I could make him worse. Melkoorrr she´s asking you not to destroy the laaammmppssss Melkor the Vala of chaos, alcohol (and cheese because rot), riches, and uncontrolled emotions :) I think Melkor can enchant his voice to sound however he wants - not all Ainur can do that, however - which is why I don´t describe his voice because it just depends on who he´s talking to and what he wants. - I do like to think here he sounds something between I Monster (note a band made out of Dean Honer & Jarrod Gosling) and Hozier, where Nienna sounds more like Mitski Melkor´s true (Valarian) name is never given by Tolkien - I have a lot of ideas about that - meaning that Melkor himself probably wanted to keep it a secret for some unknown reason and wanted others to use elvish names for him instead of his real one given by Eru, just like Mairon keeps a title as a name and we never get to hear his real one either. I really like Melkor and Aule´s relationship although nothing is said about it other than Aule didn´t want to fight Melkor out of fear of destroying Arda - makes me wonder why Melkor suddenly then decided to steal his Maiar when it should be in his interest to keep Aule of the mind to not fight him. Anyway, I am a firm believer that Melkor was Eru´s favorite and that Eru shared a glimpse of the future here and there with Melkor at least in the beginning, before he fell into madness. - I mean Eru really let him do whatever the hell he wanted with only a few verbal remarks, and those weren´t even rebukes to Melkor just advising that what he was doing maybe wasn´t the best idea. I know Tolkien didn´t use Primitive Elvish but I´m going to use it as a language cut between Valarian and Early Quenya, Early Quneya which I HC Eru gave to the Ainur saying that the Elvers would use it they did they also just completely remade it. Mairon = The Admirable: Quenya Ilmarin = Mansion of The High Airs: Quenya; Manwe and Varda´s mansion Mbelekōre = Might(y) Arising; Masculin Name: Primitive Elvish - a longer version of Melkō-r Arǭmēz = Oromë; Valarin Midu = Alcholo/Nector: Valarian Melā = Love: Primitive Elvish Kherī = Lady: Primitiv Elvish Vê = Death (early name for Namo): Early Quenya Árātō = Lord: Primitiv Elvish Aȝūlēz = Aule: Valarian Maira = Admirable/Excellent/Precious: Quenya Belegúr = He who arises in Might; Mighty Arising: Sindarin Melkóre = He who arises in Might; Mighty Arising: Quenya Minnónar = First borns/Elvers: Quenya Palúrien = Lady of the Wide Earth, Bosom of the Earth; Feminine Name: Early Quenya; Also the name of Friday (the day) Ullubōz = Ulmo: Valarian Mānawenūz = One (closest) in accord with Eru: Valarian Ëa = Everything/Be (existence?? Tolkien please explain your words better) Núri = To growl/Ask for mercy&/pity - coming for the word Nuru = growl/grumble (early name for Nienna): Early Quenya Ithīr = Light: Valarian Baradā = lofty/high with strength/size/majesty (early name for Varda): Primitiv Elvish - wasn´t sure to use that or the early Quenya name (Súlimi) but I think Baradā sounds better when thinking about it Mīrĭ = Precious thing: Primitive Elvish

#tolkien #silmarillion #jrr tolkien #melkor #morgoth #mairon #sauron #nienna #melkor x nienna #angbang

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copias-juicebox · 10 months

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It‘s a Sin Chapter 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Pairing: Cardinal Copia x fem! Reader Words: 5886 Genre: romance, angst, smut, fluff, hurt/comfort, SLOWBURN Warnings: in this chap: angst and a little fluff Notes: It took me ages I know. I apologize. I hope you guys have not lost interest lol. I will try to update more often now. Special thanks to @fishwithtitz and @portaltothevoid without these two i couldn't have done this

The next day came around and you‘re dreadfully on your way to check in on the Cardinal. The events of the past day, still playing on your mind. You replayed them over and over trying to figure out what you could have done to upset him that much. As you neared the door to his chambers you tried to shake these thoughts out of your mind. It was of no use. You had neither the time nor energy to keep thinking about it too much. With each step you took, his door came closer.

You knocked on the door lightly and waited for an invitation in great anticipation. You were praying that he was in a better mood today. For some reason, yesterdays events and his cold behavior bothered you more than you cared to admit. You heard some rustling inside and a dull thump, followed by a string of italian curses. The door swung open and you stood face to face with the Cardinal. As his eyes landed on you his face fell a little and you felt a pang in your heart. You saw he tried to mask it but his eyes were a dead give away. This man wore his whole emotional state, displayed in his eyes. Apparently whatever it was you had done still stood between you.

„Ah Sorella uh.. come in sì.“ he beckoned you inside.

His obvious distaste to your presence made you self conscious and something in you broke. „Good morning Cardinal.. I uh don‘t want to bother you for too long. I just need to see how you‘re feeling today, is all.“ you hastily informed him to get out of his hair as fast as possible. You did not want to bother him more than your mere presence already did and you feared you‘d not be able to stay strong and your facade would break.

„Yes.. yes I am alright Sister.“ His eyes were going anywhere but your face and you decided to get this over with as fast as you could. It made little sense to you but it bothered you that he was too repelled to even look at you.

„Okay so have you felt any change? Any feelings of nausea or dizzyness? Change in temperature? Any sweating or freezing?“

„No.. no I am feeling like normal. Can I go back to work now?“ he tried to wave you off.

Normally you would have made a joke by now about how he has never once stopped to work but the vibe was off with him. You bit back your comment and smiled at him. „Yes if that is true you‘re officially allowed to resume your work now.“ you turned around and opened the door again. When you looked back behind your shoulder the Cardinal sat at his desk, concentrating on a bunch of papers in front of him.

„Good day to you Cardinal.“ With that you walked out the door and closed it behind you.

A few more days passed, nothing noteworthy has happened. You were spending more time around your new found friends of brothers and sisters of Sin. Today was about to be different: you were about to attend black mass today.

The first time you were officially present during a holy (or unholy) ceremony for years now. After you dropped out of school, you avoided going to church. Without your parents' presence or the nuns from the boarding school you finally had the freedom to live your life a little more like you wanted to. Attending the masses in the local church was never done on your own free will. You‘d learned not to tell anyone, but you dreaded it each time. It just never felt important to you. It didn‘t mean you were not a believer, but that would not be accepted. Since you were a child you never understood why you had to go to church all the time when it did nothing for you or anyone around you who might have needed help. You‘d rather live out your belief the way it made sense to you by helping wherever you could, by being kind to others and providing safety and stability to those who needed it. You just never understood why you it wasn‘t accepted to express being close to god in your own way, a way that worked for you that would give you the strength and hope you needed. But nothing seemed to please your parents or the nuns more than going to that tedious mass two times a week.

As you walked alongside your new found friends in the ministry, Hannah pulled you to the side, linking her arms with yours. „Hey so I know you‘re probably worried about mass, but trust me, it‘s not going to be as dark and devilish as you might imagine.“ She lowered her voice so the others wouldn‘t hear her. „We‘re not going to sacrifce any new borns to the goat you know.“ Hannah joked to lift the mood. She didn‘t plan to expose you to them since she was aware how sensitive you were when it came to your beliefs.

„Yeah, okay. I guess I‘ll be fine.“ You smiled back at her as you put your hand on top of hers reassuringly. You were anxious as you didn‘t know what to expect, but at the same time curious how different it would be from the Christian masses you used to attend.

When you entered the Chapel, your eyes widened as you took in the massive hall that revealed itself to you. With each step you took, you soaked in more of its grandeur.

The Chapel itself consisted of three naves. The smaller two adorning the imposing middle one. Wide high ripped vaults extend above round compound pillars with figurine capitals. The ceiling of the central arcade overthrowing the height of the two side naves further showcasing the celestial character of the building. On either side of the Chapel were three recesses occupied by various statues of satanic entities and candleholders. In the central room stood several pews for the Brothers and Sisters to sit during mass. At the head of the central ship, inside the big apse, sat the Altar upon an elevated pedestal. Behind the Altar a grand statue of Baphomet stood, looking over the masses right under the grand rosary window through which the bright moonlight shone. Some of it seeped through the beautifully rounded, adorned windows behind each of the niches, depicting different scenes of demonic interactions, horned beasts, serpents, goats and naked women. It was all very breathtaking and beautiful.

You kept walking with your group, and in horror, you noticed that they headed towards the first row next to the intricate embellished pulpit. You followed them as they all found their seats and you sat down between Hannah and Damien

After about ten minutes the chapel seemed to be full of Brothers and Sisters. On either side of the central pedastal, where something similar to a transept was located, stood a few pews which were reserved for the higher ranking members of the clergy. Papa Nihil, Sister Imperator, and Cardinal Copia sat down on the right side while the left side was occupied by Primo, Secondo, and another man you didn‘t know. Before mass started your gaze shifted over to Cardinal Copia’s and you found him already staring back at you. You wanted to nod at him, but just as you did so the lights went out. Your attention was taken now by Papa Terzo, who stepped on stage, wearing his papal robes. He started Black Mass by performing a song with his band. You had never once witnessed something like this. The ghouls also walked up to the stage with their instruments ready.

A soft guitar melody started to play and Terzo was getting in position in front of his microphone.

He began singing and your eyes were glued to his silhouette, drawn to his presence as your ears were blessed by his wonderful singing voice.

„ We‘re standing here by the abyss and the world is in flames. Two star-crossed lovers reaching out to the beast with many names.“

His eyes roamed over the crowd and when they found yours, he held your stare, a smirk playing on his lips as he winked at you. Hannah slapped your arm playfully and leaned in, „You‘re so lucky, you know that?“

Terzo’s performance took you off guard, in a pleasantly surprising way. It was already different from what you had known or expected. In your church, every mass was the same, always opened by the priest with a prayer, sometimes with a song performed together. Those kinds of openings you had always found dull and boring. Terzo‘s though, managed to take your breath away.

„ He is. He's the shining and the light without whom I cannot see.

And he is

Insurrection, he is spite, he's the force that made me be.“

You didn‘t know the song, but you had to admit, it was good and very catchy. You could imagine looking up that song later and listen to it again. You felt every single of his emotions he put into his performance and oddly enough you felt slightly closer to the entity he was singing about.

After the song had ended the mass continued very much like you remembered a typical mass from your childhood. Except that Terzo, who led you through the mass, was enthralling and enchanting. He had a special aura that drew everyone in, including you.

What surprised you most was the sermon. Never once did he praise or glorify any differences between people. Not between man and woman, not between children and adults.

When you were still young, you‘d attended every mass. Given that your father was the priest of the local church, it was expected of you. Even though it was your father holding mass you didn‘t like everything he had said. All throughout your time spent in the house of God, listening to your father preaching, you often found yourself questioning the very words that left his lips. Some irked you more than others, leading to your mind wandering off many times, trying to figure out what it could mean. Surely in our modern society we wouldn‘t hold back women from pursuing their dreams anymore, right? The older you got, the more you understood. And the more you understood, the more unnerved you became about it all.

All the roles you had been forced into in your life, the things you had to just accept because the old man at the top said it had always been like that and it was the only right and natural way of things. The very fact that you feared to deserve punishment and suffer endlessly burning in hell for violating a contract you were coerced into made you question if god was indeed loving or if he was even worth to be worshipped.

Terzo never once gave the impression that they handled things here like that. No, instead he kept encouraging everyone to be their best, treating everyone as equals, and live their lives as they wished. Saying you were amazed how different this church was from what you were told all of your life and how wrong the public's expectations were about these people, who called themselves satanists was drop dead remarkable.

For the last part a few sisters walked up to the altar. The smell of incense attacked your nostrils and you began to feel hot as if the room was on fire, sweat covering your skin and you felt like wearing too many layers of clothing. The obnoxious stench reminded you of your early experiences with the old senior priest in your childhood church. A set of flashbacks came crashing over you like waves. Just breathing was exhausting at this point. You needed more oxygen, but your lungs refused you. Panic started to rise in you as you felt dizzy, and your eyes widened, looking down to the ground, desperately trying to find a spot to focus on. Your hands gripped the fabric of your habit in an attempt to ground yourself to something. Your chest hurt and your face twisted in pain.

Whatever happened in front of you was drowned out until you felt a hand on your arm and a gentle, soothing deep voice next to your ear.

„Everything is gonna be alright don’t worry. You‘re safe here, nothing is going to happen. Breathe with me ok?“ He started to breathe in loudly and exhaled again. You tried to match his breathing and it helped you calm down a little.

As you gained a little more control, your head whipped to the side, looking back at Damien, who now had slowly and gently wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you steady.

„Shall we leave? Do you need some fresh air maybe?“ His voice rang out next to you and you barely nodded at him. He led you out of the Chapel, many eyes following you as he held you close to his body.

What you didn‘t see was the way the Cardinal's eyes had seen everything. He‘d been stealing glances at you throughout mass and he had studied your expressions very carefully since he was curious about your reactions to a satanic ritual. But that also meant he saw the moment your expression changed, how your body seemed to stiffen. He saw you were on the edge of a panic attack even before you knew it. There was nothing he could do about it, though. He was very close to just getting up and making his way over to you when he saw the man next to you noticed your change in demeanor and talked to you. Copia couldn‘t take his eyes of you and the brother who now wrapped his arm around you, hand resting on your hips. He didn‘t even realize but his hands formed into fists watching your body lean into his touch. The cardinal‘s disdainful eyes followed the two of you slowly walked out of the chapel.

As soon as you were outside and the fresh air hit your nostrils you took in a deep breath. Finally you could breathe again. You still hung in the arms of Damien who now pulled you over to a bench to sit down.

„That‘s it, breathe in and out. Let the fresh air fill up your lungs.“ He said as you both just sat there and he took your hands in his. He kept talking to you in a soft, soothing voice. You couldn't catch a word he said, but it didn't even matter because in the moment, his constant chatter was doing what it was supposed to.

Minutes passed and you slowly but steadily calmed down. „Thank you Damien.“

„Ah don‘t mention it. I‘m glad I could help. At least I hope you‘re feeling better now, yes?“ You were in a momentary daze as your eyes found his. His thumbs gently stroking over your palm definitely didn‘t affect you.

„Yes, I am much better. I don‘t know what just happened..“ You stared past his head, trying to make sense of the situation in the Chapel.

„You suffered a panic attack, love. I know what those look like. My mum used to have those often when I was a child. My dad abused her for many years and it just happened so many times. Usually because of a trigger.“

Your head snapped back, making eye contact with the man beside you. „I am so sorry.“ Now your hands were caressing his as you eyed him with concern.

„It‘s not your fault, so don‘t be sorry. If anyone should be sorry, it‘s me. I should have helped her sooner. I should have stopped my father.“

„But you were still a child? You couldn‘t have done anything.“

„I know but still I feel bad for it now.“

A soft breeze of fresh wind whistled around your head as a few beats of silence between the two of you passed.

„What happened to your mum and dad?“

„Well.. my uncle found out about it and made sure they divorced.“ Damien’s face was frowning now as he stared at his feet. He had never told anyone about this in the ministry but he was sure you needed to hear something personal. He was curious about you and your sudden panic attack. He wondered what your history was that you reacted like that.

„Glad to hear that. I hope she is doing better now?“ Your body moved slightly closer to him.

„I hope so. Wherever she might be now. She died a few years ago.“

Your eyes widened in horror. „Oh I.. Sorry.. I didn‘t mean to pry. And I‘m sorry for reminding you like this.“

„It‘s fine actually. I have made my peace with it.“ Damiens beautiful icy blue eyes looked back into yours as he smiled at you with a warm and heartfelt gaze, his hand squeezing yours reassuringly. Your eyes kept glancing back into his and you thought you were seeing a flicker of vulnerability in them.

He cleared his voice trying to switch the attention to you . „Now, do you wanna talk about what happened to you?“

Your gaze shifted towards the ground . „Ah well I don‘t know.. not really. I mean I don‘t know what happened. I just felt all weird and hot all of a sudden.“ You didn‘t want to let Damian know what had triggered your panic attack even though you knew what it was.

Before you could say anything more people swarmed out of the chapel. Black mass had finished and within seconds Hannah and her group were standing before you asking if you were feeling alright. After explaining that you just needed some fresh air since you were feeling dizzy and the occasional nurse joke („our nurse needs a nurse“), you laughed along with them and everyone was off to either fulfill their evening duties or to spend their time with one another.

You were about to head back to your room for now, as you‘d had enough of large groups of people, when a voice called your name.

It was Damien again.

„Hey wait..“ He jogged over to you. „I was gonna ask if you wanted to maybe go and have a drink?“ he stood before you, gazing down at you with his beautiful baby blue eyes, smiling handsomely back at you.

You smiled at him. These eyes… and oh, his smile— he looks like a devil. „Oh, ah thanks for the offer, maybe another time? I‘d rather lie down for a while and get to sleep early today.“

„Ah, sure, yes, I understand. Well, I‘ll take you up on it another day then. But let me walk you to your chambers at least.“ he replied politely, offering his arm for you.

Copia walked out of the chapel, eyes scanning over the sea of people, trying to find you. Just as he spotted you, he saw that brother jogging over to you again, conversing with you and making you smile. He watched your interaction with green eyes and the way you smiled at this tall man gave him the rest. He was fuming inside, his rage increasing with each second that your eyes were focused on the man in front of you. His mind was conjuring several insults to the man who‘s gained your attention far too long, his internal string of curses only interrupted by Terzo’s deep voice as he came to stand next to Copia, his line of sight following Copia’s.

„Ah fratello, geloso (jealous)?“

Copias head snapped back to look at Terzo. „Ah no brother. I am just worried..“ his voice trailed off towards the end of the sentence and his eyes landed on your figure once more.

„Worried your girl chooses to „take care“ of another man?“ Terzo raised one eyebrow, smiling cockily and teasing Copia, his fingers making air quotes to emphasize the words „take care“.

Copias face turned back to Terzo once more. The double meaning is not lost on the cardinal. „Wha.. no.. she.. she is not my girl. And she belongs to no one but herself.“ He hesitated for a moment. „And it is her job to take care of people you see.“ He chose to ignore Terzos' innuendo and stay on the innocent side of the conversation.

Terzos' laugh rumbled loud through the air. „Ah il mio fratellino è innamorato,“ he said, laying his gloved hand on Copia’s shoulder.

Copia blushed madly at his older brother's words. „Eh.. hehe. Nonsense… You.. argh nevermind. Excuse me, now, I have a lot of paperwork to finish before the end of the day.“ Copia stammered out and marched off towards his office, leaving a still laughing Terzo behind.

After Damien had escorted you to your room, you thanked him again for his help and his kindness. But now in the silence of your own chambers, your mind was louder than ever. As you got ready for bed, the events from black mass replayed over and over again. The smell of burnt incense hit your senses just as strongly as when it had happened earlier. The flashbacks had plagued you again. The flashbacks of Father Clifton screaming at the young girls, hitting them for laughing during mass. You and the others were still children — you didn‘t know what to do, so you endured his actions for far too long. Thinking about it now made your blood boil, and once again you felt yourself feel hot like a fire burned inside of you. How you wished to be an otherworldly entity sometimes. To be granted the power to judge over those who did others wrong. To condemn them in the name of God and make sure they got what they deserved.

A knock on your door pulled you back to reality, and you wondered who it could be at this hour. To your surprise, the Cardinal’s pair of eyes were there looking back at you when you opened the door.

His eyes widened for a moment as he saw your face. Something about you was different — you had such an imposing aura that it caught him off guard. The Cardinal was stunned for a moment, but he knew he had to say something. „S..sorella I am terribly sorry t..to be bothering you at this hour.“

You stared back at him, face flushed still from your internal rage but the flames inside of you seemed to die down as his words hit your ears. His mismatched eyes stared back at you as if to silently beg you to calm down before his eyes fell to the ground.

„Ah “ you cleared your throat. „Cardinal, what is it? Do you not feel well?“ your concerned expression replaced that of anger as you imagined him to have some health issues again. For why else would he appear at your door this late in the evening?

„I.. uh I was just thinking about black mass today and uh.. I… uh did you not feel well? Excuse me but I saw you leave the Chapel with that.. friend of yours. “ he said timidly, finally looking at you for more than just a second.

„Oh uhm.. “ you contemplated hard about telling him or not. He had been such a gentle soul to you, always helping and listening to you without judging you but your relationship appeared to have changed over the last few days. Maybe this was a way for you to regain his trust, so you decided to let him in figuratively and literally.

„Do you want to come inside maybe? I don‘t want you to stand out here in the hall all the time.“ you stepped aside, making room for him to enter.

„Ah.. Sì sì. Thank you, Sorella.“ the Cardinal stepped inside. His eyes roamed around the place as he took in your private quarters.

Watching him standing there like a lost puppy was kind of soothing to you, and you knew it wouldn't hurt to tell him. „Please sit. Would you like to drink something? I only have water, I'm afraid.“ you scratched the back of your neck.

„Water is fine. Thank you sorella.“

Taking a glass from the table you poured him some water out of the half empty bottle that stood on the table. You sat down next to him on the small couch that sat in the corner. You sighed as he gave you his full attention.

„Sorella.. I saw how stressed out you were.. I just wanted to make sure you‘re feeling ok.“

His hand briefly touched yours as you held out the glass to him and your eyes met for half a second before both of you pulled away, brushing it off. When you peered back at him you found his eyes never left your face and his own wore a worried expression.

You smiled at his words. „Thank you for your concern, Cardinal. I am alright now. I have to admit I was not during black mass though.. I.. I am not sure if I can tell you.“

His next action took you completely off guard as his gloved hand left his glass and reached out to your soft and delicate one that came to rest on the table next to his, his other still holding yours.

The cardinal sat up straight. „Sorella you can tell me anything, you know. It will help you to let it out, maybe. Only if you are comfortable, of course, I don‘t want to pressure you.“ He took the glass in his other hand and took a quick sip.

The way he was not pressuring you into telling him strongly impacted your decision that you truly wanted to tell him. Nevertheless it made you nervous, you shifted in your seat as you silently rehearsed the words in your mind. Ah fuck it you thought. With a visible gulp you summoned the courage to tell him.

„I was..“ your voice was wavering a little but you forced the end of your sentence out. „..actually having a panic attack.“ you informed him.

„Sorella, a panic attack? I am so sorry.. May I ask what happened?“ his thumb began rubbing gentle patterns over the back of your hand.

„I.. Yes. I think the incense has triggered something.. a memory..“ you trailed off.

„The incense? So you have a negative connotation to the smell of incense, is that it? Would you like to explain what exactly triggered that conditioning?“ His hands squeezed yours softly, encouragingly.

„I.. uh, yes.. It was our former pastor. He was a tyrant. He was very strict with me and the other girls when we were altar servers. He made our life a living hell…“ your voice faltered, still hesitant because he doesn‘t know of your catholic past and the fear of his distaste for finding out about it is still very present in you.

Copia nodded solemnly, his face painted with pure sympathy and kindness. "Cara, I'm so, so sorry. And I can imagine it was hard for you to tell me what happened just now. I am grateful you trust this old cardinal like that."

A beat passes.

"I hope that here in this church you will find the true meaning of faith and believe. Because I am sorry to say, but I don‘t think your former Church was a rightful one.“

Another breath of silence. You could feel he wanted to say more, but refrained from doing so because he didn‘t want to overstep and cause you to close off again.

„I.. you are right.. it was..“ you wanted to tell him everything right now but instead you just stared at him.

„Sorella, are you alright?“ Copia asked.

„Yes.. yes it‘s just.. Cardinal, can I tell you about my past?“ you decided to try to let him in more at this moment. It took a lot of courage, but his fingers curled around your hand. It felt so warm and familiar. It was now or never.

„Always. I hope you know I am always here if a sorella needs to let out something weighing her down. Whether it be something you‘re struggling for a while now, or just a silly rush of anger, I always have an open ear for you.“ The Cardinal added another sentence quickly. „I am Cardinal, after all. I take confessions, and I take my job very seriously.“

You gulped in an attempt to swallow your fear. „I am actually not a Sister of Sin at all. I am a devout Catholic, always have been. I grew up in this town as the child of a pastor. I was raised to worship the father, the son and the holy ghost and not to give in to sinning or revolting against our lord and savior's words.“ A moment of silence hung in the air and you continued. „When I came here to this institution, I didn‘t know it was a Satanic Church.. I was.. I am still scared..“ Anxious thoughts swirled in our head as you feared his next words.

The Cardinal waited patiently, his eyes never leaving yours. You looked at him with a frown, trying to read his expression, looking for a hint of discomfort or even disgust. When he finally opened his mouth, he pulled your hand closer, wrapping his second one around it additionally. The cardinal leaned back in his seat, let go of your hand for a brief moment and took another sip of water. His slow movements without saying anything made you almost gasp out in exasperation. The glass thumped against the surface of the wooden table and he made sure to retake your hand before he spoke up again.

„Sorella, actually I think I have to make a confession to you. I have to admit I am not surprised to hear that. In fact I have expected something like this. I knew all this already.“ his expression composed and casual.

Your mouth fell open, lost for words your eyes bore into his.

„What? You did? And you never told anyone? Do you not want to kick me out now?“

As you watched the Cardinals face closely you could tell he was being genuine. It was that very relaxed and calm attitude to your revelations that had your mind in a whirlwind of confusion. How could that little secret of yours, that you tried to guard around your new workplace, appear to be an open book for him? Were you that obvious? You tried to think of any instances where you might have given yourself away but none came to mind.

The cardinal smiled and chuckled, „Kick you out? But what would we kick you out for?“

„Because I am Catholic.. Have you not sworn to fight against the Catholic church? I am your enemy.“

The Cardinal sat back up straight. „Listen to me, Sorella, we are not enemies. Our Church never wants to fight against anyone. We are not at war with the Catholic Church. All the hostility that is between us is one-sided. We have no reason to hate Catholics.“

Copia licked his lips, his tongue barely tracing over his upper one before continuing. „It’s just that we do not believe in their beliefs. It would be against one of our core beliefs even. Everyone has the freedom to choose their beliefs. We respect that. And as long as you are not resolutely acting against our rules in the ministry there is absolutely no reason to kick out such a wonderful addition to our community such as yourself.“ his cheeks heated up slightly but when his eyes saw your expression he knew it was the right thing to say.

He didn‘t know why, but as he looked at your face your eyes were glossy, and he wanted to cheer you up more. Sathanas , something must have possessed him to speak those next words to you.

„Since you’ve graced these halls with your presence, the ministry is glowing again. Every day I wake up, I look forward to seeing you roam around these walls, and I am not the only one.“ His mind went back to the words he kept hearing in the ministry. You’d caught the attention of everyone in the ministry, even of the old fart Papa Nihil himself, but especially of the male half of the Clergy. The Cardinal blushed slightly and stopped himself before he would start rambling.

This time it was your action that surprised him as you launched forward into his body as you wrapped your arms around his neck in a strong embrace.

„Thank you Cardinal.“ you pressed your face into the crook of his neck.

His mind blue-screened, and it took a long moment for him to regain his senses. He gently but awkwardly put his own arms around your waist and rubbed your back soothingly. Just as he was about to melt into your body you pulled back, clearing your throat.

„I am sorry Cardinal, uh.. I didn‘t mean to.. I am sorry if I overstepped.“ You sat back in your chair next to him.

„Eh va tutto bene, bella. Non c'è bisogno di preoccuparsi. (It is quite alright Sister. No need to worry.)“ He switched to Italian as his mind was still half blanked out.

„I‘m sorry, what?“ you asked as you waited for him to explain.

„Ah shit, ah no, it is alright Sister. I am happy to be of help in any way. I‘m always here for you, so please, do come and see me if you need to.“ He smiled awkwardly as he slowly rose out of his seat.

„I should get back to my chambers now. I would hate to keep you up any longer.“ He gestured to your clothes as you were obviously ready to head to bed. „Besides, I have a few things to organize before tomorrow.“

„Yes, yes, of course, I am sorry, I didn't want to keep you away from your duties, Cardinal.“ you bowed politely as you walked him to the door.

„Good night Sorella. Sleep well and get some rest.“

„Thank you. You too, and promise me not to stay up too late to work, yes?“ you smiled at him brightly

„Sì, sì Sorella. I will not, prometto. (promise)“ He smiled and crossed his fingers and you closed the door.

When the lock clicked, the Cardinal’s back fell back against the wall right next to the door, head hitting against the bricks and his eyes closed as he had still not processed what just happened. Not only was he correct about assuming you were the little girl from all those years ago, no now he had felt what it was like to have you in his arms. Your body against his and it made his mind go all over the place. You felt so right in his arms — it felt like finally coming home. You made him feel like he was lost all of his life, and now that you were here, he finally found his purpose. You . It was you all along that he was missing. He finally pushed off the cold surface, walking towards his own quarters, a happy skip every few steps thinking about any incense alternative.

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@hauntedlover03 @adinferix @ghostfangirlsweden @fishwithtitz @pinksweetsxtan @portaltothevoid @bbykens @sodoswitchimage

#its a sin #mywriting #myfic #cardinal copia x reader #copiax reader #ghost fic #ghost #ghost band #copia #ghesties #fic update

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