#sligh angst

[girlkisser13]

cool about it

"but i'm trying to forget about it" "feeling like i'm breaking a sweat about it" "wishing you would kindly get out of my head about it" "telling myself one day i'll forget about it" "knowing that it probably isn't true"

pairings: leo valdez x afab!reader

warnings/tags: fluff with a hint of angst. best friend leo.

summary: "if you even feel half the way i do about you..."

leo had always been good at fixing things. mending broken gadgets and constructing new inventions from mere scraps was second nature to him. but right now, as the morning sun filtered through the windows of cabin 9, casting long shadows on his half-finished projects, leo was wrestling with something he couldn’t fix, couldn’t build, couldn’t even figure out.

he hadn’t slept. not even a wink. his eyes stung from staying up, but that wasn’t the worst part. the worst part was that every time he closed his eyes, he could see last night. the faint glow of the fire in bunker 9. the hum of his latest invention. and then you, standing in front of him, close enough to touch, holding a plate of food with a worried look in your eyes because he’d skipped dinner. again.

his fingers drummed against the workbench, trying to distract himself. anything to take his mind off the kiss. that kiss. he couldn’t stop replaying it. the way you’d looked at him, concerned and sweet. how he’d leaned in, almost as if pulled by some invisible force, his lips meeting yours without a second thought. it had been quick, just a soft press, but it was enough to set his heart racing. and when he pulled away, your sibling had come looking for you, breaking the moment, and leo had been left standing there, dazed, as you were dragged away to help with some urgent task.

now, as the sunlight crept into the corners of the cabin, leo wished he could just flip a switch in his brain and shut down these thoughts. maybe you’d been surprised. maybe you’d wanted him to kiss you. or maybe— more likely— you hadn’t. maybe you were just being nice, and he’d gone and made everything awkward. the more he thought about it, the more he convinced himself that it was the latter. you were probably just being a good friend, and he’d ruined everything.

"idiot," he muttered to himself, raking a hand through his curly hair. "she’s your best friend. what were you thinking?"

he grabbed a wrench and turned back to his project, something half-finished that looked like a mechanical bird. he tightened a few bolts, but his thoughts kept wandering back to you. he had to talk to you. he had to apologize before this thing went any further, before he lost you for good. he took a deep breath, wiped his hands on his jeans, and scribbled a quick note on a piece of scrap paper.

meet me at bunker 9. please? –leo

at breakfast, he spotted you sitting with your siblings. you were laughing at something one of them said, looking completely normal, as if nothing had happened. as if he hadn’t kissed you. his heart pounded as he walked past your table and slipped the note into your hand. you looked up, surprised, but he was already turning away, heading for the door.

you showed up at bunker 9 about an hour later. he was waiting, nervously pacing back and forth. when he saw you step through the door, he stopped and stood there, unsure of how to begin. you looked as calm and collected as ever, but leo knew you well enough to see the flicker of uncertainty in your eyes.

"you wanted to see me?" you asked, closing the door behind you. the bunker was quiet except for the soft whir of a cooling fan and the faint crackling of his project on the workbench.

he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. he swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "yeah, i… i wanted to talk to you about last night," he finally managed. "i, uh… i’m really sorry. for kissing you, i mean. i wasn’t thinking. i know you probably didn’t want that, and… i just… i’m sorry."

your expression didn’t change, but he could see your hands tense slightly at your sides. he felt his heart sink. of course. you were going to tell him that it was a mistake, that he’d crossed a line.

"leo," you said softly. "it’s okay. i think we just got caught up in the moment. you were tired, and i probably looked like i needed kissing or something."

his stomach twisted. "so, you don’t…" he trailed off, unsure how to finish that sentence.

you offered a small smile. "leo, you had been working all day. it’s not surprising if you were feeling a little out of it."

he nodded, his heart heavy. he knew you were letting him down gently, trying to keep the peace. that was just like you. always thinking of others, even when it hurt.

a silence stretched between you, awkward and heavy. you shifted slightly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "is that all you wanted to talk to me about?" you asked, your voice sounding casual. but he could hear the faint trace of hope in your tone, and it almost broke his heart. you wanted him to say more, to give you some reason to stay. but he couldn’t do that. not when he was sure he’d already messed everything up.

"yeah," he said, forcing himself to nod. "that’s all. i just… i know you have a lot to do with it being cabin inspection day and all. you should probably go."

you hesitated, looking like you wanted to say something, but then you nodded. "right. i should get going." you turned to leave, and he watched you walk away, his heart aching with each step you took.

and then, just as you reached the door, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. "wait!" he called out, rushing forward. you stopped, turning back to face him, your eyes wide with surprise.

he grabbed your hand, pulling you back toward him. before he could talk himself out of it, he leaned in and kissed you again. this time, it wasn’t a mistake. it wasn’t some impulsive action he couldn’t control. this time, he knew exactly what he was doing. he felt you tense for a second, then relax against him, your hands resting on his shoulders.

when he pulled away, he kept his face close to yours, his forehead touching yours. "i meant it," he whispered, his voice shaky. "i meant to kiss you. both times."

you looked up at him, searching his eyes. "what?"

he took a deep breath, his heart pounding. "i’ve been trying to be cool about it, you know? i’ve tried to act like it’s not a big deal, like it’s just whatever, but it is. i haven’t been able to get that kiss out of my head. i can’t stop thinking about you, about us. i know it’s stupid, and i know i should just let it go, but… i can’t."

you felt your heart racing at his words, still processing everything he was saying. you searched his eyes for clarity. "leo, what are you saying?"

he took a deep breath, his heart pounding. "i'm saying that i’ve been in love with you since... i don't know. since forever, i guess. since pretty much the moment i saw you. you're the best friend i've ever had, and i know i don't deserve you, but... if you even feel half the way that i do..."

you were silent for a moment, and his heart sank. he was about to pull away, to let you go and tell you it was okay if you didn’t feel the same. but then you spoke.

"i don’t," you said, and his world stopped. he felt like he was falling, everything crashing down around him.

but then you smiled, a soft, shy smile that made his heart skip a beat. "i don’t feel half the way you do, leo," you continued, your voice trembling. "i feel it ten times more."

his eyes widened, hope flooding through him. "you… you mean that?"

you nodded. "i mean it, leo. i've been in love with you for so long, but i never thought you’d feel the same way."

he laughed, the sound full of relief and joy. "gods, we’re a couple of idiots, aren’t we?"

you laughed too, and his heart soared at the sound. he pulled you into his arms, holding you close, his head resting on top of yours. he could feel your heartbeat against his chest, strong and steady, matching his own.

"i’m still sorry for last night," he murmured into your hair. "not for kissing you, but for not saying this sooner."

you pulled back, looking up at him with a smile. "well, you’re saying it now. that’s what matters."

he grinned, his heart feeling lighter than it had in years. he kissed you again, and this time, he knew it wasn’t a mistake. this time, it was real.

[lovelynicho]

"I'm giving you this summer now"

&team reaction - summer love

Pairing: &team x gn!reader

Genre: fluff, sligh angst

Warnings: drinking in K's; not proofread (I'm still lazy)

Note: yes, I have requests I still need to write, but as the summer is coming to an end, I wanted to write something like this; english is not my first language if there's any mistakes please let me know!

Masterlist

K

After your first meeting you never tought you would meet again. You first met at a party, both of you were a little tipsy and danced until you could barely stand anymore. Although, you believed you'd never see him again two days later you met him at a store and while you had no intentions of talking to him it seemed like he tought differently and asked for your number. You found it weird but at the same time curiousity grew inside of you and you couldn't stop it. So you ended up on a date with him that night and it was surprisingly good. At first sight you tought that he's just a guy who just wants to hookup, but he was actually interested in you, he was funny and incredibly charming. So after that date you found yourself on an another one with K, and it was followed by the next one and so on. He made that summer the best you've had so far, and both of you decided to make the fall at least as great.

Fuma

You have never been in a relationship before. And it started to get scary because it's been so long. All of your friends who are the same age had already gone out with at least one person but not you. This led to you thinking that there might be something wrong with you. You were often alone, walking in the city, admiring the settling sun. That's exactly what you were doing the day you met him. Fuma. The most perfect man ever. It was almost unbelievable that nobody wanted you before and suddenly he showed up. Tall, strong, handsome, charming voice asking for your number. It was pretty late, the sun going down, but the summer breeze is still hot. Despite that, you shivered when he said he'll call you. And he did. And he made this summer the best of all by making you feel loved in a way you never experienced before.

Nicholas

You loved being a tour guide. You were always good at learning languages and to use that to show others the beautiful parts of your hometown was a dream of yours that you finally achieved. It was the beginning of summer but you already took numerous groups on a great tour. But this group was different. Not even the group itself, but a certain someone. A beautiful man with strawberry coloured hair, almost cold eyes but with the warmest smile you've ever seen. You tried not to stare at him too much, but he was so captivating that your eyes longed for the sight of him. As the tour ended you were actually glad you don't have to see him again, because even if he would found you attractive (which you tought was impossible) starting to date with a foreigner would be complicated. But as you were packing your stuff, ready to leave, a voice pulled you out of your thoughts. "Hi! Loved the tour. I'm Nicholas, here's my number. I'm going to be here all summer if you'd like to go out sometime" You don't even know why you accepted it. If you start to have strong feelings for him, saying goodbye at the end of the summer will be the hardest thing for you. But he was too charming to reject.

EJ

You always loved kids. Probably that's why you volunteered to help at a summer camp. The only thing you never tought would happen there is finding the most beautiful man you've ever seen. When you first went to the camp on Monday to prepare some games for the kids you found help in a tall, brown haired individual called Euijoo. He was incredibly kind to you, making small conversations everytime you had to work on something together. Small conversations turned into deep talks everyday after all the kids left and you finished cleaning. Just sitting on the stairs, eating some leftover food, talking about everything and nothing. By every passing day you found yourself liking him more and more. On Friday he asked you out for dinner, proving that he felt the same.

Yuma

What is better than a vacation with your friends spent in a different country? Obviously nothing! That's what you and your friends tought when you booked a hotel in Japan for the whole summer. You just wanted to take a long, deserved break before college starts again. And next to the beautiful hotel you were staying at was an amazing cafe where you could get your morning coffee. That's where you met him. Beautiful hair, beautiful skin, shining eyes. It took him a week until he gave you his number and asked you out. He introduced himself as Yuma, and he was living close to where you were staying. So every single minute when you weren't with your friends, you were with him. The only problem was when the time of your departure came closer and closer. By that time both of you fell for each other. You couldn't beleive that you had to end it here, leaving him just as the summer leaves too. But you want to try, you beleive in your feelings. So maybe it will work for the two of you. Maybe....

Jo

Why did it take you so long? You started working with him at the beginning of summer. You shifts almost always the same. Both of you being introverts, at first you barely even talked to each other, but as time passed by, work getting more and more boring, conversations started to spark between you two. He was quite. A cute smile on his face. Shy. But when you talked, you felt like he understands you like nobody else in this world. So why did it take you so long? Why didn't you go to grab an ice cream after the first time you had a good talk? Why didn't you asked him out right after you realised you had feelings for him? Why didn't you kiss him right away when his lips looked so inviting? Why did you have to wait for so long. Now there's barely two weeks left of summer, and by the end of it, he'll be gone. He's moving away for university. You love each other. You did this whole time. If only one of you would have been braver, you could have had the whole summer to make memories, to kiss, cuddle, live like two young people in love. So why did it take you so long....

Harua

That day seemed like a nice day for a walk alone. However, the hot weather left you in need of something cold. That's when you decided to go and buy some ice cream. You were about to make an order when you looked at the guy who was giving out the ice cream. He looked at you with the brightest smile you have ever seen, brown hair falling perfectly on his forehead, eyes scanning you from head to toe. The mutual attraction at first sight was obvious. After you asked for the flavours of ice cream you wanted you were just about to pay when he suddenly told you to wait a little. He quickly found a pen on a table close to him and wrote something on a napkin that he gave you after you payed the price of your cold sweet. "My name is Harua. That's my number, maybe you can call me, if you want to. My shift is over at eight."

Taki

When the two of you first met, you were on a vacation with your friends. You were walking on the beach when a guy came to all of you. He seemed nervous and a little embarrassed that he had to speak infront of all of your friends but he tought you looked amazing and if he didn't ask for your number he would be regretting it for the rest of his life. "Hi my name is Taki" he started and looked directly in your eyes "I think you look really good and... Would it be okay if you gave me your number?" You were shocked. You didn't expect someone to be so straightforward, but you found him interesting and cute, of course, so you did give him your number. And he called you that evening asking you out for the next day, and after that date you had to admit, that giving him your number was one if the best decisions you've ever made.

Maki

Although the two of you went to the same school for years, you were never really close. You barely even talked. Until you got a project together nearly the end of your last year. While working on it you realised how much interest you both share and you started to hang out. As friends. But both of you started to have stronger feelings for the other. And, being the brave man he is, at the beginning of summer he asked you out on a proper date. It didn't take long for you two to start dating. It seemed normal, like nothing could separate you two. Until you saw that both of you were accepted to your chosen university. It would be a good thing, if only they weren't in completely different countries. But still, you decided to make the most out of the summer: spending all your free time together, going on your dream dates, sharing sweet love confessions. You even started to think that things can still work. It's just a few years spent thousands of kilometres away from each other. Your relationship can survive that....right?

[daryldixonfanfiction]

What you fight for! Pt.11 - Pure intentions (*18+)

Masterlist

Summary: Discovering she's unexpectedly pregnant, Julia struggles with breaking the news to Daryl...

Warnings: *18+, SMUT!, age gap, mutual pining, morning cuddles, fluff, comfort-sex, unprotected p in v, fingering, aftercare, scary situation, creepy men, protective!Daryl, unexpected pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, aversion to blood, mention of abortion, fear of abandonment, anxiety, panic attack, dissociation, angst.

wc. 5k

Flinching awake, Julia found herself in Daryl's arms.

His breath blows against the nap of her neck, like the tide, a steady rhythm. He was holding her tightly against him, and she didn't miss his one hand cupping her breast underneath her shirt. It was adorable. Daryl Dixon, completely out seeking comfort in his sleep like a baby. It was unusual to be the first one awake, but she was glad she was, cherishing the innocent moment of his softness.

Careful to not wake him, she turned so she was facing him. And it was a sight to see. His face was laxed with sleep, the harsh lines were not as prominent making him look much younger. And she felt curious, not knowing his age, remembering she had told him hers. It had not thrown him off so he could not be that much older, right? Honestly she didn't think age matters that much and neither did she care if he was. At most she thought him to be a decade older and she didn't see anything wrong with that.

Julia smiled, before pressing her lips to his cheek in a silent thank you. A thank you for him still being here and not regretting her. His confession echoed in her mind just as clearly as he had said it,

“I never regretted you and that's the truth. You hear'n me.”

and she felt so happy, her heart pounding freely in her chest, feeling that part of her that had been hurting melting away with the sunrise glowing on there faces.

Julia didn't know if it was love or what, but how she feels in his presence must be something close to that. And it had been there, slowly growing inside her heart sins that morning. And she had recognized those feelings for him, something significantly deeper, more profound than one would feel for a friend. Staring up at his sleeping face she knew she wanted more than a friendship, that what she truly wanted was what she had longed for…

Love.

Daryl pulled her closer, still in his sleep wanting her flush against him. His face was so close, their foreheads almost touched, and she washed him there closely, tracing the pads of her fingertips along his strong features. And, oh…how she adored him, finding him innocent in his state of sleep. Brushing his bed head out of his face she couldn't help but to feel the attractiveness there, he was a very handsome man. But no. He was far more. She found him beautiful in a way she didn't know a man could be.

She washed him snuggled into her chest, clearly searching for comfort in his sleep, and she wondered what he was dreaming about, if it was a good or a bad dream, but he looked peaceful, so she assumed it must be a pleasant one. Caressing his stubbled cheek she wanted the moment to never end, that they could stay like this forever. But as it got lighter nature called and she thought she could hold it just a bit longer, but it got to the point it felt painful. Carefully unwrapping his heavy arms from her waist she doesn't get far before he pulls her back.

“Were you going?” his deep voice questions.

"Bathroom.”

Daryl sighs with closed eyes, clearly against the idea of letting go, “Can’ it wait, let's sleep some more.”

“I got to go, Daryl.”

With a heavy sigh he opened his eyes, and she washed him back, smiling sweetly up at him.

“What?” Daryl questions.

“Nothing,” Julia smiled.

“What?”

“You slept like a baby, it was adorebulle.”

“Shut up,” embarrassment evident on his face, making Julia stifle a laugh.

Julia grabs her pack to tack with and it’s when she gets up to stand it feels like her body isn't keeping up. With her hands on her knees, slightly bowed over waiting for her vision to return and the lightheadedness to go away, Daryl moves closer,

“You good?”

“Uh, yeah. Think I just got up too fast,” Julia reassured, feeling herself coming back.

A warm hand grabbed her chin, tilting it upwards, “You're pale,” Daryl stated.

And Julia could feel she was but this was nothing new, she had been anemic her whole life so she didn't make a big deal out of it and her answer seemed to ease his worry as he released her chin, beginning to busy himself.

Julia didn't waste any time, heading straight for the bathroom. All the aisles were looted but a small area was left untouched. Female products were almost stocked to the brim with brands upon brands of pads, tampons and hair products. And she didn't think much of it until her eyes landed on the middle shelf. There was almost an audible click in her brain. She felt her mind racing and her body shaking as she stood there before the brands of pregnancy tests.

There was this intense feeling of realization washing over her. That even though she had always been irregular her entire life never had it been this late. No she can’t be - shouldn't she be throwing up if she was, she didn't know. And she certainly didn't understand why there were so many different tests, why couldn't there be just one? It was all too overwhelming and she was starting to jump to conclusions. But she couldn't stand the thought of not knowing in case she was. And she probably wasn't, right?

It almost felt like she couldn't think anymore and in her panic state and her need to pee she snagged a Clearblue week indicator test and a First Response test and locked herself in the bathroom near the back of the store.

Julia sat herself on the toilet with her pants down with the two brands of tests in each hand. She wasn't familiar with brands or which one was best. Did it matter they had expired by a year - she hoped not. Her being an anxious person she felt indecisive in which to pick so she decided to try all of the tests, which all together was six tests. Finishing up she pleased them all face down, letting them develop on top of the toilet lid.

The wait was tormenting and it read she had to wait for 3 minutes. She couldn't stay still for that long, she had to do something in her wait so she did her morning routine, changing undergarments, brushing teeth and fixing her hair. The feeling of doing something normal in a situation like this made her calm somewhat even though she was still shaking.

Taking a deep breath she looked herself in the mirror and she really was pale like Daryl had pointed out, but now it was more likely because she was scared more than anything. With a shaky hand she went for it, flipping the First Response tests over, and to her shock there was an unmistakable strong red line on all three of them, and she just stared as if the lines would disappear if she did so long enough. Then she looked at the Clearblue ones, and to her devastation it said,

Pregnant

3+

Oh, god.

Reading the package over and over again she confirmed she was 6 weeks pregnant and she have had no idea, having completely ignored all the signs.

Julia almost collapsed backwards into the sink as her mind made sense of it. But it wasn't translating - it wasn't even computing as a fact. But the positive tests were there, clear as day, staring right back at her…And it was very real.

Julia covered her mouth, eyes watering as she stared back at herself in the mirror as the world-shattering news sunk in. It feels almost like being given the news that someone was dead...That feeling of reality slipping away like it didn't exist. Her chest expanded suddenly, inhaling a deep breath to keep her from blacking out right then and there - and she looked down at herself, her eyes resting on her stomach. She took her jacket off and in her shirt she backed up so she could see her abdomen in the mirror, turning sideways and smoothed down the fabric there. It was way too early but she was already beginning to show. She could see the little curve there, feeling like it was staring right back at her - and all this time she had mistaken it as bloating. But what about the period of pain she had been feeling and her tender breast? Was it supposed to hurt? Was it normal to feel like this - and she wished she had all the answers, but she didn't, of course she didn't.

It was alive in there. A small thing that was a part of herself and a part of the man she had slept with and woken up to - no… it was a part of Daryl.

Julia felt tears in her eyes. Stupid - stupid - stupid, how could she have been such an idiot? They hadn't - they hadn't been safe at all. Not even a little bit. And why hadn't they been safe? Well...none of it had been planned - it had just…happened. Both desperately seeking comfort in one another without the thought of consequence. The thought hadn't even crossed her mind in either of the moments they had spent together - because she had craved it so badly. But then again, had Daryl not thought about it, or had he just not cared?

Julia felt like she might fall over again - the thought of Daryl...of him knowing - of it actually happening…Oh, god. She felt sick to her stomach of just thinking about it. They had barely begun a journey of knowing each other, but there was a connection there between them that had begun to come to the surface that felt far deeper than just sleeping with one another.

Her hands moved underneath the fabric of her shirt to press down her stomach, and she shut her eyes, and it felt… different, it was definitely something growing inside of her.

Several tears fell just at the feeling and the notion there was a very real baby in there, and when she opened them again she had to sit down on the floor before she would fall over. She was completely devastated, having thought things would be okay and happy, but of course something would destroy…she didn't want it to end.

She didn't know if she could stand yet, it almost felt like she actually would throw up on the floor. And she wondered if that was a sign of morning sickness or because of the anxiety?

She got on her berings slowly, vision tilting just slightly as she held herself up with one hand against the wall. Knowing if she took any longer Daryl would come knocking. So she calmed herself as much as she could, drying her tears and putting on her jacket and pack back on, discarding the evidence in the trash bin before heading out.

Walking back to the same aisle, feeling like she deserves some sort of control over the situation. Because she just wanted to feel like she had a choice and she knew she had to make one before it was too late. She wasn't sure of what to take for an abortion, if any of the over the counter pills worked and she felt like a shameful person as she grabbed an emergency contraceptive. Standing there and just staring at the box in her hand she was still making that choice in her head - and she just didn't know what to do. Did it make her a bad person if she took it? Was it irresponsible? Immoral?

On the back of the package it read, DO NOT USE: If you're already pregnant (because it will not work).

And of course it wouldn't. It wasn't an abortion pill after all, it was to prevent pregnancy after conception. If she wanted an abortion she would have to find a pharmacy, and how was she gonna explain that to Daryl? How was she gonna explain she was already 6 weeks p-

Voices of men entered the store. Julia watched the group of men begin to go through the shelves, looking for food probably and they didn't seem to know they were there. And speaking of, where was Daryl?

Julia continued to hide, staying silent as she carefully begun to move backwards, away from the intruders that loudly chatted amongst themselves and she didn't really listen to anything they said until,

“Thought you said there would be a girl here?” One of the men complained.

“No, I said I saw a girl and a man heading this way.” the other man clarified.

“You claim her?”

“Boys remember the rules. There is no such thing as claiming, only free game,” another man said and all the men started laughing.

Her stomach sank, the feeling of horror had her frozen in place. These were bad people, very bad people and if they were to find her, she imagined very horrifying things would happen.

There was movement behind her and before she could make a sound, large hands clasped over her mouth. She fought against it, tried to scream for Daryl, but she was left defenseless against the strong body. The only sounds that could be heard were the men talking and moving around the store, and her panicked breaths against the hands silencing her. Then one hand moved away and she was being turned around, faced with the man she was silently screaming for… The father of her unborn child.

Daryl.

Thank God.

Julia stopped fighting against him, looking up at him with fearful eyes. The thought she was carrying his child in a world of the walking dead was terrifying for many reasons. She could tell he was scared too, though his fear stemmed from adrenaline and survival to get them out of there, because… he didn't know.

He motioned for her to stay silent with a finger against his lips, Julia nodded and his hand released. She could see him thinking of a plan, because how could they escape unnoticed, and there were many, 8 if she counted wright, all armed. But then she remembered the window in the bathroom, they were close enough to make it without being seen.

Julia pointed towards the bathroom behind the aisle of feminine products and drew a window in the air with her hands. Daryl seemed to understand what she was referring to and he nodded, leading the way to the bathroom.

With the door closed behind them, Daryl opened the small tinted window, then motioned for her to make it true. Glancing towards the trash bin before stepping on top of the toilet lid Julia hoists herself up and out. Daryl passed his bag and crossbow before following, careful to not to make a sound he closed the window shut, to not reveal their escape.

“Go, go, go,” Daryl ordered, and they rushed into the forest away from the band of men.

Hands in her pockets she could feel how the heavy weight of anxiety loomed.

The more she thought about it, which she had done all day, finding out she was pregnant felt like either choice she was left to mourn something, it already felt like she was. She didn't even know if she was ready to take care of another life even though she had always wanted to be a mother, be married and have a family of her own. But the world was far different then when she had those innocent dreams.

Daryl turned to face her, and his pause almost made her trip over her own feet. He was staring down at her, his gaze making her feel naked, like he could tell what was wrong. With that same expression when he had told her she looked pale he said,

“I don’t like that color on your face.”

And of course her face was still pale, probebully paler for him to comment about it, but she was feeling unwell for reasons she could not tell him yet.

“I’m fine, let's keep going,” she lied.

“We're setting camp here,” Daryl declared, not even bothering to call her out and began to skin the squirrels he'd been hunting along the way.

And of course Daryl didn't buy it, she was the worst of liers there was. Their close encounter this morning had scared her deeply and jumpy all around, which she also knew he had picked up on. He seemed to notice things most people didn't, but she was relieved he didn't push for the truth.

Concentrating on tending the fire as Daryl gutted the animals Julia could not watch on like she usually did. Feeling like the sight of blood or just the notion of it made her sick. It was ironic that it was first after finding out she was pregnant she began feeling symptoms.

Only when eating did the sickness stop. She had been starving all day, the feeling of having warm food in her stomach felt so, so good.

“Slow down girl, no one's gonna take it from ya,” Daryl said from across the fire.

“This is slow.” Julia said, food stuffed in her mouth and she didn't care for manners, she was starving.

Throwing the bones into the fire it didn't take long for that heavy feeling to return, and she just wished for it to leave her alone. Hugging her pack feeling terribly overwhelmed by the events of the day she hadn't noticed Daryl watching her. He moved from across the fire, kneeling on one knee in front of where she was sitting on the cold ground, and as if he was speaking to an injured animal he said,

“Julia. Hey, look at me.”

Slowly her teary eyes looked into his. His look was one of concern, and deeply so. She knew he couldn't fully understand the visual display of emotions nor the reason behind the fear she felt - he probably thought it was a response from their close encounter with the men in the store, which was parsley true. He reached out, wiping a tear away from her cheek and said,

“Let’s go to bed, okay?”

Julia nodded weekly “Okay.”

The fire was soon to burn out, the last ambers drifting off into the night. Huddling up against one another, having zipped their sleeping bags together Julia laid turned from him, letting tears fall along her nose down into the bedding. The smallest of sniffles escaped her. Daryl moved closer, pulling her into his arms, his body warm and comforting against her. Looking up at him as she stared into his blues, taking in his lovely features. He looked so soft in moments like these, she had almost forgotten what was underneath that rugged exterior and what he was capable of. His watercolor eyes looked almost like a creature that would never harm anyone, especially when he was looking at her, with all his kindness and worry.

“Way you cryin’?” He asked, gently drying the wetness away.

He was such a sweet man.. So, why was she so scared of telling him? She didn't know - she didn't know anything anymore. Her world had turned upside down, her bubble had finally burst, and she was just too overwhelmed to think straight and, and…

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” she managed to tell true the tears that just kept on coming.

She was un ugly crier, probably making him feel put off by her distraught state. But he was not put off, more so determined than anything to find the reason behind the tears, and she didn't feel ready to tell him yet.

“Why don’t you know?” he questioned further.

But the tears worked against her, not allowing her to speak.

“Yah scared?” he tried, continuing to wipe her face.

And maybe it was evident that she was, because faces said so much, gave so much away. Especially hers.

“You don’t gotta be scared no more, they're not gonna find us,” his deep voice was so very gentle.

But she could not shake the feeling, and it was as if all the terrifying experience with men tore into her like a sharp pain shooting through her chest. Shaky hands reached out, holding onto the fabrike off his chest like a lifeline, the fer poured out before she new it,

“No! They are gonna find us! And - and, they'll kill you and then they are gonna rape me!”

Only after her words came to life did she realize she admitted to a fear so deep within herself she shocked herself. She felt him stiffen to her words, his heart beating louder as he held her as if he was gonna lose her.

“No, no,” his deep voice rumbled from his chest. “Nothing like that’s gonna happen. No one's gonna hurt ya and nobodys’ gonna kill me.”

“You don't know that. Didn't you hear what they said? They said I was ‘free game and-”

Daryl moved on top of her, caging her in and his eyes looked intense making her worry she had upset him somehow. Tears spilled from the corner of her eyes down to her ears as she stared up at him. With a more serious tone he said almost darkly,

“No. Yah ain't.”

It felt like she couldn't breathe. It sounded like a confession. He didn't outright say it. But why else would he so straightforwardly denie the idea, as if the thought angered him.

Oh.

Did he already see her as is? That would explain the protectiveness, the anger and the gentleness in his touch. Her mouth trembled and the softness in his eyes returned. He searched her face before leaning down and enveloping her in a kiss. The kiss so soft she could feel the pure intentions behind it. It calmed her to the point her tears stopped falling.

Daryl pulled away, resting his forehead against hers, Julia closed her eyes as well. The feeling of his warm breath against her face was pleasant against the cold air as he said almost pleadingly,

"Please stop crying. Just tell me what to do.”

Julia couldn't help herself as her arms wrapped around his neck, and it felt like she could not word what she needed. He let her hold him close in response to her desperate need of comfort. She opened her mouth as if to tell him about the baby. But she just couldn't get the words to leave her. She was so scared. But she needed him now more than ever. His protection, his touch, his voice, him underneath her skin, but even that wouldn't be near enough.

She felt him lean into her ear, “Tell me,” he begged.

She unwrapped herself from the embrace, her hands resting on either side of his face. Gazing up at him she felt shy to say what she wanted. He was staring right back at her, as if reading her, making her feel like an open book underneath his gaze. But what she also felt was his desire hardening against her thigh. His eyes had darkened with lust, filled with that same desire they had shared last night.

He seemed to understand what she was asking for. That same pulse began to beat between her legs and she spread them apart, welcoming him. It seemed to have heightened his own desire as his lower body moved against hers and he did it so very carefully, gauging if she would stop him. But she wouldn't. This is what she wanted. All of him inside of her.

With her hands still on his face she kissed him. His tongue entered her mouth and before she knew it he had taken control, their tongues dancing and it felt like he always was in a desperate need for more. His hips rocked against her front and the feeling of his hard length had her walls squeezing around nothing. Wetness pooled like a poodle, staining her jeans and she wondered if he could feel it. His hand traveled down, cupping her mound she gasped into his mouth. She could feel him undo her jeans, assisting she lifted her bottom and with one swift motion they were pulled down and all the way off, tossing them out without breaking the kiss.

Daryl had her panting as he pulled away for the need of oxygen. She washed on as he pulled his jacket and shirt off, leaving himself in a sleeveless button down, reminding her how strong and broad he was. Just as fast his lips returned to hers and she melted into his mouth, his hand cupped her and she just wanted him inside already. It felt like he was teasing her and probably enjoying her desperate state, feeling the wetness over her undergarment. Painfully slow his hand went underneath the fabrike, thicke fingers going along her folds almost curiously at how wet she was. Just with his fingers down there it felt so good she had to pull away from the kiss and when he dipped his fingers inside of her, going for a spot she had no idea existed inside of her, had her within seconds away from climax.

She could feel him washing her, that intense feeling building and belding before it- His hand clasped over her mouth before the moan escaped her. Julia swore he had her seeing stars, feeling almost lightheaded as she came down. A kiss was pressed to her forehead and she gazed up at him only wanting more.

The unmistakable sound of him undoing his pants has her stomach flutter in anticipation, her legs spreading even wider as he moves closer to lube himself with the wetness. Just as he aliens himself, feeling his head pressed against her entrance he paused, whispering,

“You gotta be quiet, okay.”

Julia nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck and before she could ready herself her promise went out the window. His hand clasped over her mouth once more, his other hand cradling her head. Entering her all the way she could feel how her walls adjust to the intrusion. It was a tight fit but she liked the feeling of him stretching her out.

Daryl pulled almost all the way out before he pushed himself inside, beginning a steady pace. Every rock of his hips had her making sounds into his hand, making him remind her to keep quiet. But how could she stay silent when he was making her feel so good.

Daryl buried his face into her shoulder, heavy breaths of pleasure leaving him. Her legs wrapped around him, sending him deeper. His breath became more laborde as she did so and she could feel him holding himself back, not allowing his own sounds of pleasure coming to life.

The hand covering her mouth was exchanged into sloppy kisses. The pace slowed for just a moment letting her breath for a moment before his hand returned and the pace of his hips as well. Pressure built in her stomach as he went faster, his breaths turning into grunts. But he kept them low and controlled. Daryl was locked in. Eyes closed, chasing after his climax. His hair had become dampened with sweat and in her pleasure she takes in his rugged, wetherd face, his masculine beauty exudes from him. Before she knew it she was on the edge of her second climax, her face turning hot, the intense feeling building up before it would explode like a supernova. The feeling was so intense she couldn't make a sound, legs shaking intensely as she went true it, feeling the wave all true her lower body, down to her feet. It was overwhelming in a pleasurable way, having her almost feeling drunk as she came down. Opening her eyes only to be met by his piercing blue ones as he continued to move inside of her. He seemed to like washing her as much as he liked to kiss her and it felt so good to be wanted.

She could see him fighting it, as if to prolong his chase. But she could see the shift behind his eyes, the primal instinct to finish burning inside of him. As if he couldn't take it anymore he thrusts his hips harder, the pace overstimulating, bringing tears to her eyes. Their flesh collided inside the sleeping bag and she worried the noises would alert nearby walkers.

With an animalistic grunt he pulled out, finishing on her thigh. Their panting breaths filled the night as he stopped himself from completely collapsing on top of her. He reached clumsily for something in his back pocket and cleaned his mess off her thigh, the aftercare sweet she couldn't help but smile.

Puting the rag away he pressed the softest kiss she had ever received from him, closing her eyes she melted into it, completely worked out and ready for bed. With an arm he pulled her into his chest, his chin resting on top of her head and this was where she felt the safest she had ever felt in her entire life. In the arms of the man she trusted her life with, that also was the man that had made her pregnant and had no idea because she had failed to tell him.

It was nice, the unintentional comfort he provided, holding her as if her world hadn't just turned upside down and their shared journey wouldn't come to an end. Because she knew when he found out everything would change and she had a feeling it would break her heart.

And that was when she decided to not tell him. That for the sake of the future, for her selfish desires for love she would simply not tell him. Under no circumstances was he to find out until they found the doctors and finished what she was set out to do. And Julia hoped he would not hate her for it, that he would find it within himself to understand.

With her ear against his beating heart and his steady breath she drifted away from the harsh reality she would be woken to. But for now she would be with the man she just began to know and love.

Pt.12 Masterlist

[luminousbeings-crudematter]

where Simon is both injured & blown

PAIRING: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader 

WARNINGS: injury description. established situationship. angst. blow job. 18+ only

LENGTH:  3.5k

This is the most beautiful you’ve ever seen him look.

Next Part >

_____

If you had to describe what home smelled like to you, you would say it was London in the rain.  

Maybe a few months ago your answer would have been different, but now?  Now the rain reminds you of him, as much it makes you nostalgic for a simpler time–before you knew him, when your chest didn’t ache with his absence.  When your life didn’t revolve around this enigma of a man, a Rorschach that changed with the day, taking simultaneously both infinite forms and none.

Simon is beautiful in the rain.  He wears a hoodie and black jeans, hood pulled up, an ever-present cover on his face (today, it takes the form of a dark scarf).  But when he drops the hood, his blond hair looks dark with how drenched it is.  He smells like fresh rain, and a spicy masculine flavour, one that you can’t describe, one that is quintessentially Simon.  He brushes past you when you open the door to him, no hello, no how have you been, no it’s been 3 months and I’ve missed you.  

But of course there isn’t, because this is your projection of his feelings, just some wishful thinking on your part.  What you wish he’d say. 

You close your front door and lock up behind him .  It’s late.  Almost 2 in the morning.  You’re glad you’ve freshly showered, but it feels like the smell of working where you work lingers on you anyway.  

It’s only when he sits down heavily on your couch does the hand that sits protectively over his side catch your eye. 

“Alright, Simon?”

“Fine.  Got a beer?”

You clear your throat and nod slowly, but don’t immediately make a move to grab it.  He looks at you expectantly but his eyes hold an edge.  It’s a question and a warning, all in one.  I’m fine, his eyes seem to say.  Don’t ask questions.

You wonder why, then, he sets the answer in front of you, as though on a platter.

“You’re hurt,” you whisper, walking to him.  “Do you…y-you need something?”

“Beer’s fine, pet.”  

“Simon.  You’re bleeding all over my couch.”

“Shit,” he immediately mutters, looking down at his side, seeing his hand covered in red.  You walk up to him, and gently push him back down, back leaning against your settee.  He looks up at you, the dark green of his eyes almost glassy and glazed, and it makes your heart pound hard in your chest.  He’s injured, most likely in pain, and still, all you want him to do is tear open his skin so you can settle inside him.   

You stand up quickly.  “Stay here.  Be right back.”

You almost sprint into your kitchen, grab beers for the both of you, and your emergency kit.  Before making the short walk into the kitchen, you pause and your hand finds the kitchen counter for support.

Simon’s presence around you tonight is dark, thick and heady, like smoke from a wildfire.  You feel almost dizzy, like your chest is about to cave in on itself from the pressure of having to hold everything you feel and everything you want to say inside you.  It’s equally painful and constricting all at once.

When you walk back into the front room, he’s taken his hoodie off, but the T-shirt he’s wearing underneath looks saturated where it hugs his wound.  The sight of his blood almost jolts you.  The blood that stains his skin looks just like the blood inside your body.  Just blood.  Dark and potent, filling the air with the faint smell of rusted metal.

But…Simon is more.  He can’t be made of the same thing you’re made of.  He’s more than you, in every sense of the word, his veins must carry ichor through his body, rich and sweet.  He’s so different and distanced from you, a Pluto to your Mercury, he shouldn’t even be here, doesn’t belong on your couch, in your small flat, with you and yet–

Yet, there’s nowhere else you’d rather watch his essence escape him than on your couch, in your small flat.

Your hands tremble slightly as you set everything on your coffee table.  You try to help him take his shirt off, but his body subtly straightens at your touch and you suddenly realise…you’ve never seen his naked torso before.  

Shit.

This isn’t ideal, of course.  

The whole time you’ve known him, you’ve never seen his bare body.  You’ve fucked so much, he’s been inside you for fucking hours, but you’ve never seen his body beyond his cock and glimpses of his pelvis.  Simon knows so very many ways of making you come, on his tongue, his fingers, his cock, a combination of them all, and you’ve never seen his body.   

Never before have you been in a position where he’d have to make himself so vulnerable.  

You’re about to open your mouth, but ending up gaping like a fish.  What can you even say?  This is what you’d called a fucked circumstance.  Cumulatively, the man’s gone down on you for hours, but you don’t even know if he has hair on his chest.

Fucked.  Circumstance.

But, as it turns out, you needn’t worry, because he slowly starts to take his shirt off.  You assist him quietly.  His eyes dip, and you try not to make this worse for him, this vulnerability he seems to feel while he allows himself to be seen to.

His bare chest glistens at you, marred by scar tissue in places, peppered in cuts and bruises, some healed, some not, and blood.  But you only feel warmth in your chest. 

The sight of his naked chest–a part of him he denies the rest of the world–makes you feel special. Greedy.

________

“Why ‘Ghost?’”

“Can’t kill a ghost.”

You stick your tongue in your cheek and reach a tentative finger out to poke his lacerated side.  He catches your finger before you can make contact and brings it up to his lips.  “But you can make a ghost bleed.”

“Apparently so.”

You shake your head and it’s back to cleaning his wound.  It looks…grim.  There’s no other way of putting it.  

It’s not fresh, but it hasn’t healed either, not even close.  You couldn’t believe he’d driven to you like this, stood outside your door as though everything was okay, as though the shabby work he’d done wrapping his wound hadn’t caused him to almost bleed out on your doorstep.

“You’re lucky I’ve got this stuff at hand, you know.  Lucky I know my way around injuries.”

“Bullets graze you in the kitchen, pet?”

“You don’t know what some guests are like.”

A swig of the beer.  “Hostile work environment, then, eh?”

“Hilarious, really.”  You drop the antiseptic you were dabbing on his skin and grab the gauze.  “What is it you really do, Simon?”

“Pet.”  It’s the one-word warning you’ve heard before.  You bite your tongue, not wanting to argue with him while he’s in this state.  But it's all so strange.  

You’ve stripped him of his shirt (his shirt which was sticking to his torn skin because of his injury, ick), cleaned his wound, you’re dressing it right now, and the whole time he hasn’t flinched once.  Shown no sign that he’s in pain, no sign of any distress, actually.  He could be eating a fucking chip butty, for how relaxed he’s been.

Except right now.  Right this moment, when you ask him about his job, and that’s what makes him uncomfortable.

Strange guy.

“Alright,” you say, raising your arms up in mock surrender.  “Don’t tell me.  It’s not like we need to know about each other for you to fuck me.”

The words taste bitter on your tongue, acrid and cruel.  Logically, you know why he does this.  He keeps you in the dark about what he does for your own safety.  

And it’s not like you don’t know anything.  You’d guessed he was…some type of special forces.  He hadn’t confirmed it, but his eyes had softened when you’d drunkenly tried to guess.  His call-sign was Ghost.  And the way you’d found that out…you’d passed out to him going down on you that night.  Woken up to him still eating you out.  It’s a wonder you remember anything from that night at all.

But…that was it.  That was all you knew, both pieces of information you’d gleaned from early on in your…association.

It wasn’t much, but it wasn’t nothing.  But sometimes the privacy felt like it was really for his benefit.  

It would keep him safe if you didn’t know much about him.  It would protect him if you were kept as far away from his line of work as possible.  He would be more comfortable having you around in his life as his…whatever this was, but nothing more.  Like you were the skeleton he preferred to store deep in his closet.

And you were just left with a clawing type of curiosity about the man you’d been sleeping with for the past few months.  

Some days were easier than others when you were someone’s secret.

You put down the scissors you’d trimmed the gauze with and sit back on your haunches, by his feet.  He runs a grateful hand over your hair, and you lean into his touch, setting your head down on his knee.

What now, you think to yourself.  Past precedent dictated that by this time, under normal circumstances, you would be fooling around with him, ready for him to be close to him in the only way he would allow.  But that wasn’t going to happen tonight, not with his injury.

“Thanks for cleaning me up, sweet girl.”  The hand that was playing with your hair stills.  Stays on your head.

Your sigh is audible against his knee and you close your eyes, feeling particularly spoilt.  Content, but the calm you drape over yourself only barely hides how feral you feel.  It’s him you want, and it's him you’re denied, over and over. 

You lift your head up to look at him, and startle to see his eyes on you already.  You remember when you’d mistakenly thought of them as just dark.  As though Simon could be just anything.  Your surprise, and how your stomach dropped when you saw the dark green that stared intently back.  Somehow predatory but knowing, intuitive,  as though he sees what you feel, sees your melancholy, but chooses to say nothing, do nothing. 

His eyes look at you now, as they looked at you back then.  You wonder what they see.

“Can I–can I take care of you?” you ask softly.  Outside the rain falls harder.  Your eyes follow the hand that traces the strong muscles of his thigh.  

“Don’t need nothin’ more tonight.”  His voice is gruff, tired, but he’s definitely caught on to your meaning. His eyes quickly dart to your hand (which is now very close to his crotch) and away, like he doesn’t want to be caught looking.    

“Please Simon.  Just for tonight, just while you hurt.  Let me–” You stop yourself from saying more.  What you need to do is just show him.  Your hand continues to slowly rub his thigh.

“Please,”  you whisper once more, though he hasn’t denied you.  You finally bring your eyes up to him, and his eyes are wide and alert.  Red-rimmed. 

“What d’you want, darling?” His voice is a whisper now.  

“I just want you. I just want to make you feel good.”

“Pretty girl,” he murmurs, his fingers gently brushing across your jaw, over your lips.  “Ain’t much but you that makes me feel good, pet.”

But he leans back against the settee anyway, and it’s all the go ahead you need.  You get on your knees and move slightly so you’re kneeling in between his, rather than by them.  His eyes dart to your face and one big, warm palm comes to caress your face.

He consumes you, spirit and mind.  But not your  body, not tonight. Tonight it’s your chance to play kindling to his spark, to cause him to come apart through your manipulation of his body. 

Your hand continues its slow journey up his thigh, all the way to his zipper.  His dark jeans are still damp from the rain, he must be cold, but a quick glance up to him has never shown warmer eyes.  You can almost imagine his need pouring out of him in the only way it can, the only outlet he gives it.  One of the only parts of himself he seemingly can’t control.   You wonder if you’ll ever know what he’s thinking, if he’ll ever give you the privilege of telling you what goes on behind those beautiful eyes. 

You’ve done this twice before, both under very different circumstances.  The first time in your car, when he’d fingered you as he drove, his eyes on the road the whole time.  You’d ached to please him and he’d given in.  The second time was…no, but that was different.  

You don’t let your mind go there.

He lifts his hips, almost instinctively, when you brush him over his zipper.  There’s a small furrow between his brows, as though he’s trying to work something out in his mind. 

You manage to get the zipper down, and he lifts his hips again, this time in response to you wriggling his jeans.  He sits back down, relaxes.   

It’s your show, now, you realise.  This is as vulnerable as Simon is willing to be.  He’s not going to take his jeans off.  His shirt’s off, but only because of his injury.  

But he’s warm and he’s here, safe with you and no one in the world could peel you away from this man now, from making him feel good.

He’s already half hard when you put your hand on him, his body ready for what’s going to happen.  You take your time, just watching his eyes as your hand gently moves up and down his cock.  You’re about to bring your hand up to your mouth to wet your hand, but his hand clamps down on it fast.

“Don’t,” he whispers.  You know he likes when your hand touches him dry, likes how it hurts.  Pleasure and pain all mixed up in his mind, all paths, you hope,  leading him to you.   You nod and go back to touching him gently, teasing him, your finger lightly touching his leaking slit.  

Finally, you let your hot breath ghost over him, give him tiny licks up and down his length, your only mission to tease now, to torment.  For long, long minutes, that’s all you give him.  Small licks and just the feeling of your hot breath on him, letting your tongue do the work.

The hand not currently on his cock slowly makes its way up his arm.  He quickly flips his arm and grabs your hand, twining his fingers with yours.  He gives a small squeeze–grateful? nervous? or just encouraging?–and you squeeze back.  

Simon is the picture of perfection to you, right now, eyebrows furrowed in a look of desperation.  You can tell by the way his other hand flexes over your head then falls down to his side, by the way that his hips flex into your mouth, that it’s taking everything in him not to grab you and fuck your mouth, make you take him in deeper.  You resist the urge to pull off and tell him that he can.      

No, this is your territory.  You control this.

Your show.

You decide to put him out of his torment, but only on your terms.  You finally suck his cockhead, gentle but firm.  It pulls a huff of breath from him, and his hand in yours twitches.  Keeping your attention only on the head of his cock is one way of frustrating Simon, you’re sure, but he says nothing.  Controlled, silent. 

You have a decision to make - you could continue to torment, continue to tease.  Or you could try to break him, get him to give in.

You shift on your knees slightly, settle your ankles firmly against the ground, and swallow his cock all the way until you feel his head hit the back of your throat.  It makes you gag and your eyes water and you still don’t stop.  

You keep your eyes closed–just the feel of him in your mouth–and he leaves you to your own devices, saying nothing at all.  You’re so engrossed, so captivated by this part of him that you begin to forget the person attached to the throbbing cock that’s keeping your mouth occupied.  You moan softly around it, feeling it warm and thick and heavy on your tongue.  You’ve drenched yourself now, but your arousal is only incidental to his, only a reaction to his pleasure.

You don’t pull away from him, just let him rest in the hot cave of your mouth, letting him feel the kind of warmth around his cock that you want him to feel around his body.  You’re surrounded by him, your worldview painted only Simon, when he shallowly thrusts up into your mouth.

Bingo!          

“Shit!” he groans, but you’re unrelenting in your attention.  You place his cock right on your tongue, grazing his frenulum lightly with your teeth, then using your tongue to salve over it like a balm.  You keep licking and sucking and kissing, tasting the precum, making sure your mouth is the only feeling he feels while your hand slowly grabs the part of him you can’t fit into your mouth.

He’s trembling slightly now, you can feel how close he already is.  The roof of your mouth moulds to his shape, your mouth stretched wide so as to accommodate him.  You can’t even imagine the sight the two of you are right now.  You, on your knees, demure and submissive, with his cock in your mouth.  Simon, losing his mind to the warmth of your mouth, one hand entwined with yours.  His other hand moves up to your hair and stays there, gentle but firm.  Finally.

You’re bobbing up and down the length of his cock now–it’s sloppy and your hand feels slippery gliding over his cock, but this is what you want.  You want to make him feel good, and your body is the only thing he allows you to use.   You alternate the bobbing motion of your mouth with drawing circles on his tip with your tongue.           

“Fuck, Jesus,” he gasps, and you look up briefly to see that the gauze on his dressing has started to run red.  You move back, intending to move off his cock, but his hand on your hair tightens slightly, holding you there.    

Almost, almost there.

You’re sloppy in earnest now, your tongue working him continuously and hand moving over him, strong and firm.  You feel the muscles of his thigh tightening now…he’s close. 

 The hand he’s using to hold yours turns into a death grip.  His cock throbs in your mouth and he throws his head back with a gasp, his eyes shut tight and brows furrowed in a desperate frown, as he comes down your throat.  His jaw works hard and the  muscles that run up his neck and disappear behind his ear twitch with the movement. 

It’s the most beautiful you’ve ever seen him look.

You don’t spill a drop of what he gives you, your throat swallowing around him, trying to extend his pleasure for as long as you can.  His groans are tinged with pain, but you continue to keep him in your mouth.  He finally relaxes, his grip both on your hair and on your hand  loosening, but you’re not quite ready to let him go.  You lick him clean, and even when that’s done, you don’t pull away, just keep him in your mouth, giving him gentle licks and kisses.  

Your gentle attention must push his nerves into oversensitivity because he shudders and grabs you by the arms, pulling you up to him.  He kisses you slowly, his tongue languid, tasting every corner of your mouth, licking into you and you all but melt into him.   

When you finally part,  you settle with your head on his chest, he tucks himself back in his clothes, while you give his cock one last wistful look.  If you could touch him like this, make him feel good like this, you’d stay on your knees for him forever.  

All he’d had to do was ask.

He doesn’t kiss you again, but he does something better.  He gathers you to him, your longing for his affection making you warm and pliant, and moves you just so that you’re lying on top of him—your legs across his lap, your torso against the length of his and your head against his chest.  

It’s more than you expected, more than he’s ever given you.  

His heart beats, strong and fast under your ear.

You’re not in love with him, not yet.  But you’re teetering on the edges, you can grasp it, hold it, if you stretch your hands out.  If he looked at you now, you know he’d see it, clear as day on your face, and then everything would end. 

You hide your face in his neck and sigh. 

[icedmatchatae]

Glimpse of Us | KTH Chapter I: Finding Happiness

Pairing: Problematic Idol Taehyung x Grad Student Reader

Genre: Idol AU, Ex-Childhood Best Friends into—, Angst (Hello, welcome to my angst central), Fluff (mainly in the flashbacks), Slow Burn, Eventual Smut

Summary: BTS’s V has been living a lavished and successful lifestyle, but underneath all of that, Kim Taehyung is far from the perfect image the media and fans made him out to be. All he wants is to relive the feelings of happiness and purpose in his life, but how can he when he left behind those memories years ago? The same memories, he hopes to see a glimpse of.

Warning: Angst (from the start mwahahaha), mentions of alcohol consumption, violence, stalking, faulty media, descriptions of therapy sessions

Word Count: 7.2k

Chapter I: Finding Happiness || Series Masterlist

“BTS is the highly musically acclaimed boy band from South Korea, sweeping the charts across the globe with their wide diversity genres of music. Their lyrics consisted of personal and social commentary that moves those who listen, especially with their fanbase, ARMY. Each member of BTS have their own individual style to their work, yet still continue to play an important role to the group’s success.”

“BTS’s V shook the world, being recognized for his alluring baritone voice and exquisite “duality” and emotions on stage, as well as being coined “The Idol’s Idol” within the Kpop industry. His facial expressions, his motions, his voice, it shows it all.”

“V ranked first on the charts of being the number one most searched keyword for the past five years in South Korea.”

“V was always the first to attract those who don’t know BTS by his unique visuals, strong aura, and his intimidating gaze.”

“V is also part of Wooga Squad, a highly achieving group of men consisted of actors Park Seojoon, Choi Wooshik, Park Hyungsik, and artist Peakboy (Kwon Sunghwan). Their friendship is widely known on their platforms while supporting one another.”

“V caught the attention of many famous fashion brands, as everything he wears turns into gold, including Celine, Louis Vuitton, Gucci, and Prada.”

“V was ranked number one as the world’s most handsome and beautiful man in the world.”

“Among the members, V has the most followers on Instagram as well as the fastest growing account on the platform.”

“V is well-loved by ARMY and is supported of his endeavors. They hope to see a solo album in the near future.”

“BTS’s V gets followed by sasaeng at the park.”

“BTS’s V attacked by an influx crowd at the airport. Videos of him holding onto j-hope.”

“Kim Taehyung was seen hanging out with Park Seojoon and mystery girl?? Potential new lover?”

“Kim Taehyung (V of BTS) caught smoking before award show! Is he becoming an addict?”

“BTS V gets embroiled in attitude controversy for not greeting fans and journalists.”

“V of BTS: dating rumors with Tzuyu of Twice? JYP denies but HYBE ignores.”

“Taehyung was secretly recorded at night on the streets, drinking more than he can handle.”

“Kim Taehyung fighting in a club?? Reports of getting drunk and the idol throwing punches.”

“Are BTS’s V and Lisa from Blackpink dating??”

The cycle repeated itself as the ever-growing success of BTS continues, with Kim Taehyung being one of the members. Success, scandal, success, scandal. At this point, it was practically the same thing. Though with the achievements, popularity, and passionate fanbase, it, unfortunately, came with a price, specifically with Taehyung.

His life turned into something he didn’t expect, whether good or bad, but it could be safe to say it has been leaning towards bad. During his years as an idol, as V, his life was heavily scrutinized by the media and the fans. Through the hate comments online, unwanted paparazzi photos, and delusional headlines on topics that he didn’t even know about, it was never-ending that sadly took a toll on him.

Taehyung faced straight forward, not wanting to make eye contact with the man across from him, leaning slightly to the left. Blankness overcame his expression with the deep-set dark circles and hollowness of his cheeks. His lips peeled and swollen from the many occurrences of biting the skin off. His hair was messily styled into his “fluffy Tae bear” image as what ARMY loved to say, but he couldn’t care less about his appearance.

The ticking sound of the clock echoed within the tiny room as Taehyung hoped time only went faster. Despite the tight space, the environment was relatively comfortable. The warm fluorescent lights hanging above the two, a brown velvet couch occupied by yours truly, and a rust-toned loveseat also occupied by the professional. The walnut surface of the desk stacked with files and books by a wall and extended shelves on the opposite was in his peripheral vision.

Taehyung could sense the attentive stare the man was giving him, which had no effect on the idol. It wasn’t harsh gazing, almost curious and kind, but Taehyung wasn’t really ready to give his all. He was trying his best but didn’t know what to do. The idol almost felt bad for him, having been assigned to the professional for nearly a year with little to no progress. But the man had some steel grit and was determined for Taehyung to speak about something.

A particular question made Taehyung fidget in his seat and bounce his leg. It wasn’t too personal because everyone knew, but it still gave him chills thinking about it.

Recently, at BTS’s Festa Dinner Party, the boys announced a temporary pause on group activities except for their variety show, Run BTS, to focus on their solo projects and other activities they wished to pursue without the constant clash in the group’s schedule. Each member was currently doing their own thing, whether promotions or taking a short break. In Taehyung’s instance, the company and his fellow members thought it was a fantastic idea for Taehyung to continue focusing on himself.

Through the years and over time, Taehyung has been dealing with the pressure of the idol life and fearing that his privacy would be taken away at any minute. The heavy load caused a strain on him, a concoction of emotions, as well as changes in behavior. He got sad, he got angry, and he drank. He rarely remembered anything the morning after. He got nervous, he got stressed, and he smoked, which led to online hysteria. He got into fights with strangers, friends, and his members. Countless articles on him from a fight dated back months ago. Despite rarely interacting, he got caught up in scandals with various female idols that were obviously not true. The recent one was another Blackpink member. It has been his fourth one in the past year.

Somehow it was Taehyung getting the bitter end of the fruit, having to deal with it alone. He never comprehended how his name got caught in the tongues of the people when there were hundreds of thousands of celebrities they could choose from. Though not wanting to wish it on others, new up-and-coming idol groups were entering this industry. Idols who were quite naive don’t even know half the bullshit he and BTS faced.

Of course, there was ARMY support. But they interrupted the news differently, assuming that he’s trying to be a normal human and that he does indeed make mistakes. Others commented on Taehyung’s behavior as highly inappropriate as younger fans looked up to him. All responses are partially correct but also, in a way, incorrect in Taehyung’s eyes.

The boys’ support was incredibly different, and they understood him until a couple of years back. Now there has been a faint tension between Taehyung and some of the members after a disagreement right before the group’s announcement. Nevertheless, they were there for him, especially now.

But it was a little too much for his liking.

He has been in and out of therapy, having one session every month due to the rigorous scheduling of the group. But now, since that was on hold, it gave Taehyung the perfect time to engage with himself as frequently as possible.

Taehyung eventually gave up and told his therapist what had happened the past two weeks. The professional knew who he was and what happened with the group—having gone through a well-detailed contract of privacy—but it was appropriate for Taehyung to mention it on his own because sitting before the therapist wasn’t V of BTS but simply Kim Taehyung.

“How do you feel about all of that?” Dr. Im continued thoroughly, jotting down notes in his notebook.

Taehyung scrunched his nose, thinking what to say, “Bittersweet, I guess? You know we’ve been doing this for so long. It’s kinda like we don’t know how to act or do without the group.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, everything I’ve done for almost a decade has been in the group, for the group, with the group.” Taehyung shrugged, playing with his fingers. “Now we have this time to ourselves…almost lost I guess.”

“Can you elaborate on when you speak about “lost”?”

Being in a mood, Taehyung felt a little talkative this session. That’s what usually happened. One session, he’s a blabbermouth, the next, silent as a ghost. There was a reason why his progress was so inconsistent. “The group strived for a goal together, we worked hard and had success which made us happy, but…I don’t know. Me, I guess? I’m feeling lost where now it’s just me, and my goals, my happiness?”

“What would be your goals?”

“I don’t know. I just have my schedule.” Taehyung muttered, slowly getting disinterested in the topic. He hated that he didn’t know anything in his life. “Maybe write and do my solo album, but nothing is ever good for me. That’s why I’m probably the last member to do that.”

“I see, all that’s understandable. I can’t imagine your line of work, but I can sense that the craft takes time.” Dr. Im reassured his client with a warm smile. “You worked hard to get where you’re at. Hard work comes success and of course, at times, success can lead to happiness. Yet at the same time, there will always be struggles.” Taehyung barely responded, only with a nod of acknowledgment.

Lightly segwaying into another topic, Dr. Im wondered out loud, “You’ve mentioned your happiness. Could you describe a bit more to me?”

“There’s really nothing.” The idol bluntly replied. “I don’t feel happy. Like with the group, yeah I guess so, but just me? No.”

“So with the group, what is your happiness?”

“Maybe like, our bond?” Taehyung stated frankly. “We sacrificed things for the band and we only ever had each other. We had good times, good laughs, cries and fights. We, of course, had our fans who’ve done so much. Together, we were always so strong and understood one another, until recently…”

“What do you mean?” His therapist inquired, but Taehyung stayed silent and stoic. Though the professional attempted his best to let Taehyung open gradually, there was still a concrete wall up. That also led Taehyung into spacing out and ignoring anything Dr. Im said. But that didn’t mean he didn’t understand his non-verbal communications. He knew that Taehyung would eventually talk about it, but as of right now, it was too much for him.

So Dr. Im simply hummed and nodded before saying, “It’s okay to not say anything about that. Whenever you’re ready.”

Taehyung peered at the profession, mentally applauding how well he was with him. If Taehyung was in his shoes, he’d slap himself.

“However, I hope you don’t mind talking more so about your happiness.” When Taehyung didn’t protest and shrugged, it was a good sign to continue. “So the happiness by yourself? How is that?”

“Again, I’m not happy, or I don’t feel it at all. I never thought about it until now actually.” The idol reiterated.

“How long have you felt that way?”

Taehyung blew his cheeks out as his breath came out of his drying lips. “Probably years...maybe even the whole time since debut.”

“That’s a long time to not feel happy. How is happiness, is it important to you?” Dr. Im pointed out.

“I guess, yeah…I mean look at where I am. Fucking emotions always changing and ruining my life.”

“Emotions are never changing, you know.” His therapist explained. “But how you use it can. How were you able to cope?”

“Well, we were more restricted in the beginning since we were rookies and I used to hide it well with all the bullshit I did.” The idol responded thoroughly. “I guess over time, it got worse and I couldn’t take it anymore hence all the scandals. So yeah, I’m not happy. Life is just there. I’m just here.”

“So, when was the last time you felt happy?” His therapist questioned, sparking a new discussion up.

“Uhhh, I’m guessing before debut, the group, fans? If it’s been years.”

“So imagine the last time you felt it, and I want you to describe to me what your happiness is. What are the thoughts that came up, the emotions?” Dr. Im sought it out in hopes that it could unlock a new memory about his past.

“That sounds pretty loaded…” Taehyung tilted his head as he stared at the window.

Soft tangerine brightness leaked through the reflection. The sun settled down as he was the last client of the day, mainly due to his schedule. It was also perfect so that other clients wouldn’t be sitting and waiting and suddenly looking up to find the V of BTS coming out of his therapy session. He knew for sure that it would spread like wildfire. He wasn’t ashamed, but it was somewhat taboo, and people could warp the story to make it worse.

“Let me reword it.” Dr. Im suggested. “Before the group, before the fans, before you were V, you were simply Kim Taehyung so what was your happiness as Kim Taehyung?”

“Wow, you’re bringing me way back.” Taehyung chuckled lightly, glancing at the man nodding and waiting patiently.

The idol pondered on the question. What was his happiness as just Taehyung? Taehyung mentioned his happiness in previous sessions, but this was the first time it was discussed. Only because it has been a while since Taehyung looked at his past before BTS and as an idol. BTS and being an idol was his life. He didn’t realize that the last time he was happy went way back. It was likely when he lived in Geochang, his childhood days before leaving and going to Seoul to train. It seemed so long ago, being in his mid to late twenties, that it was all blur.

There was his family and school friends, school days, specifically recess and lunch, the farm, the countryside, and the distinct street food you could only get there. God, it felt like a fable. His life went from low-income farmer boy to this international pop star, the whole rags to riches spiel. But these memories didn’t feel real, almost make-believe, maybe even nonexistent. His mind couldn’t replay those memories right now, feeling too shy to reveal it all to his trusting therapist that all the people and their faces were erased.

Well, not all faces.

He remembered one face as clear as day, but he knew that face would forever be a lost longing memory.

-

It was like everyone Taehyung knew had the sixth sense of knowing when he finished his session because calls and messages bombarded his phone. The tones bounced off his eardrums, grimacing at who was raiding the device.

Sure, his group chats with the members and his friends separately. The name of his sweet, sweet girlfriend popped on the screen with texts asking “how are you” or “let me know when you get home so I could cook dinner <3.” Anyone in the world would think these gestures were supportive and caring as a girlfriend should to their partner, but now, Taehyung did not want to deal with her and eventually ignored it, putting his phone on vibrate. He thanked his therapist before leaving the office and heading down to the elevators. 

As he entered the platform, his phone vibrated continuously. He groaned and rolled his eyes, thinking it was her again. But lo and behold, it was his best friend, Park Jimin. Though hesitant, Taehyung accepted the call and answered.

“Hello,” The idol greeted monotonously.

“Why, hello, my lovely giggling bear!” Jimin’s voice sounded too ecstatic for his best friend’s liking, but he didn’t comment on it as it was usually like him. “And how was your time in therapy?”

“You know you don’t have to call after every session I attend.” Taehyung commented when he stepped out of the elevator and then the building. “You’re only gonna get the same answer—less shitty than before.” He spotted one of his company cars waiting in the parking lot and walked towards it.

“I’m just worried about you. You should know that.” Jimin huffed, and Taehyung could almost see the pout evident on his best friend’s face. “Better me than Yoongi Hyung or Namjoon Hyung.”

The mentioning of their names puts a frown on him. He knew that though supportive of his path to improvement and soul searching, the way they spoke to him felt somewhat demeaning and scolding him for every little thing. Do this, not that. You should have stopped yourself before the mess gets bigger. Why are you doing that when you clearly know you shouldn’t do that? I think this is best for you. Blah, blah, blah.

Though he didn’t mention it with Dr. Im, right before everyone split to do their own thing, Taehyung fought with his hyungs, leading to Taehyung walking out of the company building frustrated and getting wasted until the following morning and not talking to them for almost two weeks. Things were said, insults were exchanged; it didn’t matter if they were right or wrong. Taehyung didn’t want to hear what’s been repeated countless times.

“I also miss you. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”Jimin announced, hoping to lighten the mood. “When I call, I wanna know how’s life for you.”

“I appreciate the gesture, but Jimin, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me.” Taehyung replied as he rubbed his tired eyes.

“I know you’re not fine, Tae. That’s why I’m worried.”

The idol sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to calm himself. “Anyways, how’s your family? How’s Busan?” He wanted to switch the discussion over to Jimin, hoping he would get the notion that Taehyung didn’t want to talk about that.

Jimin paused and respired, understanding what he was doing, so he gave in and updated his best friend on his life. While Jimin was talking and he traveled through the city to go home, Taehyung’s mind wandered off, thinking back about his session. What popped into his mind was not spoken, but he explained that those memories were gone as those in it were gone, his environment changed, and the hold on his attachment was slowly loosening.

But then, his therapist said something that got him thinking.

“It’s a pain to not be able to have those things right now, especially when you know they made you happy. But having those memories are key to unlocking more ways of potential bringing yourself closer to your own happiness. Putting words into action.” Dr. Im responded, writing down more scribbles in his book yet staring at Taehyung. “You’ll know the types of people you want, you know where you should be, and understand how much you want it.”

Taehyung understood his therapist, giving him some hope but not as much as the professional intended. “You mentioned people, the types of people I wanted.” Dr. Im hummed. “What if it’s not the type of people, but just…the people?”

“What do you mean, Taehyung?”

Taehyung scratched the back of his head, gradually feeling his nerves tingling. He tried laughing it off as the man before he stared attentively. “It wasn’t the types of people I was with, but the people I was with. Actually, a person, specifically.”

“Are you willing to talk about this person?”

His therapist had no clue what or who he was talking about, but it brought out many mixed thoughts and emotions. The reference to it sent an aching twist in Taehyung’s heart. He didn’t like the feeling. It only reminded him that it was over and nothing had been the best since.

“Not, right now. No.”

-

Taehyung went into his house, located at the edge of the city, to avoid any disturbances yet be within the vicinity of his work. After a sasaeng threat, he moved out of his luxurious condo in the heart of Seoul and found a comfortable and lovely two-story house in a quiet yet secured neighborhood. It helped with his living situation, but not necessarily his life.

As he closed the front door, he heard feet padding down the hallway and a soft voice speaking whimsically, “You’re home!” Skinny limbs wrapped around his torso, making him tense up, but he ultimately eased himself to the touch.

He pushed out a grin and wrapped an arm around her, kissing the crown of her head. “Hi, babe.” She raised her head with her sparkling almond eyes, smiling only for and at the sight of her boyfriend returning home. He stared back and nodded, biting the inside of his mouth.

There she was—in her raw and glorified self—Na Clara, his girlfriend of five years. Clara came from an affluent family, the Na Group conglomerate, which became a stakeholder for Big Hit back in 2016. That was where the two met—at a stakeholder’s event as Clara was there for her family and Taehyung was there as part of the band to show respect and gratuity for the support the Na family has given. That very night was where everyone said, “Tae and Clara hit it off so well.” 

As the rise of Big Hit increased, the CEO at that time, Bang Sihyuk, and Na Seong-jin, Clara’s father, made a mutual agreement to part ways but still own part of the stocks. But the departure didn’t stop the blossoming relationship between the two. After countless flirting and dates, the two made it officially the following year and have been together ever since. They got Yeontan together and moved in with one another, so Clara left her family home to stay with her boyfriend.

Of course, due to Taehyung’s idol status, they agreed to keep their relationship a secret. Clara was indeed a socialite but also had an image to maintain for the sake of her family. Still, it wasn’t as harsh to keep up as Taehyung’s. The company insisted on annual NDA renewal contracts to ensure the idol’s safety. There were no disagreements as Clara happily signed the papers because, in her words, “As long as I have my Tae, then I’m happy.”

Clara was kind and caring, even to the members and others around her, and it was easy to gain the support of their relationship. She was also a philanthropist and animal lover, donating to charities and helping rescue endangered species. She was a real golden goddess, the visual of South Korea. Her shining long, ebony locks, pale glassy skin, glittering eyes, a body many women referenced for surgery, and a heart that melted and attracted many citizens. Men wanted her. Women wanted to be her. But she didn’t care about any of that.

Because Kim Taehyung had her heart and only looked his way.

Those who did know deemed their relationship as perfect in every way. Perfect connection, perfect communication, perfect attraction, perfect visuals, perfect, perfect, perfect.

But it was anything but.

“How was therapy?” She asked as she lets go of him to run back towards the kitchen. Taehyung took his shoes off before dragging his feet to follow his girlfriend. He rolled his eyes at the same old question everyone’s been asking him, and Clara wasn’t any different.

“Less shitty than before.” He mumbled loud enough for her to hear. Then softer taps to the floor amplified before a sharp squeaking bark of fluff came towards Taehyung. He crouched down to carry his pet before standing back on his feet.

“You know you should try to be a bit more enthusiastic about this.” She said as she stirred some kind of soup. Taehyung glanced over at the pot and scowled when he caught a waft of it.

“But I’m not.” He shrugged, caressing Yeontan in his arms.

“Tae, do you even try?” With an annoyed face, she looked up to her unbothered boyfriend.

“Yes, I try. But I don’t know. There’s some shit I’m not ready to talk about.”

“Therapy is supposed to help you open up.” She started out the obvious, which made Taehyung roll his eyes. “If not with your therapist, then with me or the boys.”

“You guys won’t understand if I told you.” He scoffed after settling his dog down. Clara tried to grab him next, but the Pomeranian ran away to his kettle. “You would think I’m psychopath with all my fucked up thoughts and behaviors.”

“Tae, stop calling yourself that! I don’t like it when you say those things.” She scolded as she turned off the stove.

“What, I thought you loved my weird expressions.” He cocked an eyebrow as he sat on the counter table stool. An outsider would look at them and assume that he was only teasing, but in actuality, he was pushing her temper.

“Not when you say shit like that!” Clara shook her head before sighing. “You’re not psychopath, I never thought of you like that.”

“Bet you thought a lot of things of me.” 

Ignoring his insufferable commentary, she said sincerely, “This is to help you understand yourself better, and understand we’re here to support you. You know…”

He didn’t even bother listening to her as his messages went off. His group chat, Wooga Squad, had all his hyungs, and they discussed late-night eating plans. Taehyung checked the time, and it was already close to eight on a Tuesday night. Nightlife wasn’t as busy compared to the weekends, so it was possible that Taehyung could hang out with them too.

“Tae! Are you even listening to me?” Clara shouted, snapping her fingers in front of his face and then shaking his shoulder.

The idol blinked rapidly, almost tunneling his vision with the phone conversation. It was a tendency he did as well as spacing out. “What?”

“Ugh, I hate when you do that.” The socialite sneered. “I was just talking to you too.”

“Can you chill? What you were saying wasn’t even that important. Jimin even said the same damn thing.” Taehyung snapped as he typed his reservation for the Wooga outing.

“Who are you texting?” Clara’s eyes attempted to leer at his phone, but she was a little too far, and it was angled in a way she couldn’t see anything.

Taehyung rolled his eyes heavily at her implicit interrogation. “It’s Seojoon Hyung. They wanted to have dinner outside in like an hour.”

“Tae, I’m already done making our dinner.” She pouted as she pushed the pot in his direction. “I made kimchi jjigae.”

“Oh, that’s what it is.” Taehyung gasped sarcastically. “Yeah, I still don’t want it.”

“Hey, I’m trying to cook more, okay?” Clara frowned. With her socialite status, Clara was attended to and pampered by maids and butlers from the day she was born. Ever since she moved in with Taehyung three years ago, she had to learn how to cook and clean without any help. Taehyung had to help her at some points, and he wasn’t the best either. Actual cooking wasn’t done until a couple of months ago as the food was always take-out. But when the idol mentioned how much he missed home-cooked meals in this therapy, Clara tried her best to learn some dishes.

“You are.” He agreed as he stood up, heading towards the door. “But I’m going.”

“Don’t you want to spend time with me?” The socialite followed Taehyung like Yeontan would. She watched him put on his shoes. “I’ve missed you the whole day.”

Taehyung exhaled before standing up straight, “I guess I can spend time with you tomorrow. I have somewhat of a free day. We’ll have breakfast together.” He kissed her head and patted her hair. He held her face in his hands. “But we’ll order in.”

Her pout shifted into a suppressing smile as she pulled his hands off her. She tugged his arms to encircle her waist, then wrapped her arms around his nape. “We better.” She tiptoed to peck his lips, transmitting shivers down his spine with mixed feelings. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

It was at the ringing of his phone that rescued him off of his girlfriend to take the call. He quickly bid farewell to Clara, who waved hopelessly before he closed the door behind him.

He answered, “Hyung! What’s up?”

“Tae, are you home?” Seojoon exclaimed through the speakers.

“I was, but I’m leaving now.”

“Stay there, Wooshik and I will be there in ten minutes. We’re dropping off Joohyuk home, said he’s got a family birthday to attend.”

There has been a somewhat unofficial addition to the group—Nam Joohyuk. Some may have seen him from Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok-Joo, Start-Up, or Twenty-Five Twenty-One. He has been slowly breaking the acting industry and stealing the hearts of fans worldwide, in addition to his modeling career. The group met him through Seojoon and eventually made his way into Wooga, coming to outings and trips.

However, Taehyung was weary of him. Sure, Joohyuk was pleasant and respectful towards the others and met the group’s criteria of being “too handsome,” but it was a bit off. Still, his hyungs loved spending time with him, and it can be assumed that Taehyung could be civil.

But he also kept his distance from him.

A sour face morphed onto the idol’s face, but his voice was poisonously friendly when he responded, “Aw, Hyung isn’t coming?”

“He said he’ll come next time, but not this time.”

“Yeah, unfortunate…” Taehyung rolled his eyes. “But yeah, I’ll wait for you.”

-

Walking through empty streets would seem eerie and dangerous, but it was basically heaven in Taehyung’s eyes. Wooshik suggested a place his cousin told him about, but he never looked it up until the group went. When Seojoon parked the car behind a nearby lot and got out, they realized it was completely barren.

They found out they were in a rundown part of Seoul where it was sketchy as fuck. Streetlights flickered, stray animals running, and a few individuals here and there, but they weren’t as approachable. They concluded that they were either a sex worker, a drug dealer, or someone interested in obtaining either or both. That was the one of the only reasons for anyone to be there, but it wasn’t the group’s reason.

“Wooshik, what the fuck is this place?” Seojoon scowled as they walked down the pavement. Eyes were on them, but it wasn’t the typical staring of celebrities. It was more so the eyes trying to hunt prey or wondering why the individual who clearly doesn’t fit in would come to an atypical location.

“Hyung, calm down.” Wooshik checked the maps to ensure they were going in the right direction. “It’s only the path. After that, there’ll be more activity and running places.”

“I just hope it’s not the same place as these watchers stay in.” The eldest of the bunch hoped. Let’s just say many of the sex workers had googly eyes with him the most. Worship was too busy navigating, and Taehyung felt somewhat relieved.

The idol didn’t need to hide his face or get recorded in this part of the city. Though it was a bit high-risk, there was a perk for him. Of course, he was still in constant fear of getting caught but mentally reassured himself. 

All he wanted to do was get away from all these problems, but it seemed to keep following him no matter where he went. He fucked up all that time ago, leading him to where he was: sad, enraged, and nervous. He really had no hope in things and went on dragging with what little life he had in him.

To Seojoon’s relief, they reached a pretty lit area. There were convenience stores, bars, low-rated clubs, and a small community. Most people walking and passing by were elderly, but it was safe enough.

“Jesus, this restaurant better be worth it after passing by mini Hell.” Seojoon breathed out with ease.

“You’re literally the tallest, strongest, and eldest among us.” Wooshik bluntly scoffed. “Be tough like a leopard.”

“So what? You know what can kill leopards? Lions! And you know what can kill Lions? Hyenas!” Seojoon countered at his younger. “We were surrounded by hyenas, Wooshik.”

Taehyung was grateful for his friends. Yes, he loved his members to death, but something about his friend group gave him solace, especially in these rough times. They helped him out, taking him out of the fights, limiting his alcohol and smoking, and keeping various eyes on their surroundings. This time was one of them, despite the high severity of it.

“We’re here!” Wooshik disregarded his rant, presenting the restaurant. It was small and rundown, having an entrance made by a bright blue tarp. Trash cans were filled to the brim with waste and other junk inside. Taehyung could have sworn a rat passed by. There were graffiti markings on the side, but it was still the cleanest everywhere.

Out of nowhere, two clearly-drunk large-set men stumbled out of the cloth holding onto one another. They exchanged rambling and laughing so loudly to make the bunch flinch. But out came a gentle-looking old grandmother, ensuring they were leaving safely.

“You two get home safe, okay? I called a cab for you. They’re coming soon.” The lady smiled and patted their back.

“Ohhhh, Halmeoni! Thank you so much!” One of them managed to say. “Always taking care!”

“Of course, for my loyal customers!” She laughed joyfully as she was about to go back inside, but the three extremely handsome men in front of her caught her very eyes. “Oh, welcome! Welcome to DanDan! Please come in!” She lifted the tarp open for them to enter first.

Though they were hesitant, they warmed up to her kind aura, thus going inside the restaurant. Their eyes scanned the place. It was utterly different from the outside. It held a cozier and comforting atmosphere, more intimate as compared to traditional restaurants in Seoul. It had a “family-owned” vibe, despite the customers being middle-aged men or elderly couples enjoying a night out. A male server came out from the back and handed plates, followed by busing the tables and wiping them down. Potted plants surrounded the corner, a TV in the middle, and the succulent aroma of food touched their noses.

“I’ve never seen handsome gentlemen before!” She cheered. Judging by her sentence, she knew nothing about who they were, which was a good sign.

“Oh, Halmeoni! I had a cousin come here and said your yukgaejang was out of this world!” Wooshik complimented, to which the old lady clapped in glee.

“Ahh, he’s too kind. Come, come, sit wherever you want.” She motioned towards the vacant seats. As they settled down, she handed them menus before walking away. They engaged in the list of foods to even realize she was gone.

She headed towards the back kitchen, squealing like a school girl, where she found her husband cooking and one of the only two servers fixing the plates. She eyed the particular worker before she called out their name.

“___!” Your boss whispered loudly in hopes the men didn’t hear from outside.

“Yes, Halmeoni?” You smiled, looking up from the orders that were ready to go.

“Sweetie, there’s a couple of guys out there.” She grinned, hinting at you to serve them.

You squinted your eyes at her and scrunched your nose at the thought, “Please, no more. I know you mean well, but I don’t want to talk to some creep. The last man turned out to be a scum.”

“And my apologies for that. But, this time is serious!” Your boss voiced out. “They’re super handsome, like a mother’s dream son-in-law!”

“Are you talking about me?” Your fellow coworker, Kenji, who was three years younger than you and the actual grandson of your bosses, stepped into the backroom and the conversation without permission.

“She said mother’s dream son-in-law, not Quasimodo’s twin.” You retorted, to which he stuck his tongue out to you.

“Nice one, ___!” Harabeoji laughed at his grandson.

“Kenny, please tell ___ about the handsome men out there.” Though it was bothersome at times that Halmeoni was being persistent, you enjoyed it. It reminded you of how your grandmother was to you.

“Oh, yeah. They’re super hot.” Your coworker joined in on the persuasion. “But you’re probably not their type, maybe even bottom tier that it’s last resort kind of thing.” Meanwhile, Kenji was the irritated brother you never wanted.

“First of all, that was rude, and it’s the reason why you’re still single, and second, whether they’re handsome or hot or not, I’m not looking.” You reasoned, putting up a feigned smile. 

“So what, you’re gonna die alone?” Kenji snorted, to which he received glaring eyes from you and his grandmother. He quickly shut his mouth and muttered an apology.

“It’s complicated, okay? I’m just trying to work and earn money.” You said before lifting your tray.

“Just have a look, kinda like window shop.” Halmeoni insinuated before concluding her suggestion. You sighed, giving in to making her happy, so you nodded before leaving the kitchen.

Meanwhile, the bunch wanted to order a whole receipt of the appetizing dishes, completely in awe of the prices and how good they sounded. The range of soups, meats, sides, and drinks was all too alluring.

“Looking at all of this made me hungry. I’m ready to order.” Wooshik bounced in his chair before putting the menu down. “Tae, you good enough to eat a lot?”

“Yeah, yeah.” The youngest one simply said. Though he looked at the dishes, his mind was preoccupied with everything. He thought the food would cheer him up, but it still didn’t meet his expectations.

“Don’t think about it right now. Just have some dinner with your lovely hyungs, and if you want to drink, we’ll buy some.” Seojoon proposed as he smiled reassuringly at the idol. “Also, dinner is on Wooshik.”

Worship was about to protest, but the eldest used his power card to make him shut up. “Yeah, it’s on me.”

During their conversation, you came out with the heavy trey and yelled, “Coming through!” You carefully paced towards another table and laid the food before dispersing it to the customers. All without knowing, you passed by him. 

“I’m going to the bathroom!” Taehyung announced as he stood up. The youngest had his back facing the kitchen and passageway. “Do you know where it is?”

“I think it’s just right down the hallway over there.” Seojoon pointed, making Taehyung turn his head in the direction and find the signs leading to the bathroom. All without knowing he passed by you.

“Cute waitress.” Wooshik nudged Seojoon as he caught sight of you.

Seojoon peered towards you, smiling at the elderly couple you were serving, “Looks young though, but agreed, she’s cute.” It was easier for them to spot you as they had a view of the back.

“Let’s get her attention.” Wooshik prompted before raising his hand and hollered, “Excuse me, Miss! We’d like to order.” Once you gave that table’s food, your eyes sought for your following table to attend to until you saw a hand held up. Your eyes widened at your discovery.

Not only were they attractive, but you knew who they were. Park Seojoon and Choi Wooshik were big-time actors in the country and potentially the world. Also, as an avid drama junkie who watched every drama and movie they were in, you could say you were a fan.

But obviously, you hid the fan in you away. As of now, they were somehow customers of the family-owned restaurant in a dangerous part of the city. You were good at hiding your emotions, which was fairly easy when you walked toward them with your customer service smile and gentle approach.

“Hi, welcome to DanDan. I’m ___. I’ll be serving you today.” You greeted to their liking, and you knew this because they smiled so beautifully back. “What can I get for you?” As they ordered, you wrote it down in detail as some orders were modified. They wanted dishes that weren’t spicy, no added coconut shavings, and no lemon on one. It was very particular, but you went with it. You’ve experienced picky eaters in the past, as a waitress and in life in general. 

You repeated their order, just in case you misheard, but they agreed to all. “Oh, before I forget, any drinks besides two cups of water?”

“Can we get three bottles of soju, and one coke.” Wooshik asked politely. “Oh, also three cups of water. Our other friend is in the bathroom right now.”

Hmm, another friend, they say. You wondered who it may be, Hyungsik? You knew some actors were friends with them, so it could be. You didn’t want to get your hopes high, but you couldn’t help but think if the other guy exceeded your expectations. 

You nodded mindlessly, “Okay, got your orders. I will be back with your drinks.” You turned your back as you walked towards the kitchen but stopped when Kenji came out with no task.

“Oh my God, Ken. Those men!” You whispered at your coworker so no one would hear. “Do you know who they are?”

“No? Am I supposed to know?” He denied it, taking a glimpse of the men talking to one another.

“That’s Park Seojoon and Choi Wooshik!” You beamed.

“Oh my God,” Kenji gasped. “I still don’t give a fuck.” Your mouth dropped as you scorned him.

Taehyung finally left the bathroom, walking down the hallway. While he did his business, he also thought about his happiness. The topic seemed to be under the spotlight in his brain, wanting to be recognized. He wanted happiness, like, who doesn’t? He loved when he was happy. Everything felt safe, comforting, and relaxing in his life. But it felt physically and mentally impossible for him now when those memories of when he was happy had a person in them, a specific person. Someone who truly made him feel alive and shined hope into his life.

But alas, she was no more after events that were too shameful for his liking.

All these thoughts weren’t getting him anywhere. Maybe he should give up on therapy. It was all Clara’s idea, and he just went with it to stop her pestering. It had its pros and cons, but he doesn’t know where he stood with it but him going was something? Like what was said, there was now no hope, and life dragged him. Walls seemed to cave in on him, testing how far he could go.

Then he paused at the end of the passageway with dilated pupils.

He felt his body freeze up, unable to take control of his limbs. His breath stopped for a second to gaze. His growling stomach rumbled with his anxiousness. He had to blink twice to see if it wasn’t his imagination. 

It couldn’t be; this was impossible; there was no way. The disbelief was vivid on his face but slowly made his jaw drop in shock as he processed the reality of it all. The door of lost longing memories opened with a flood as it crashed into his mind. Years of joy washed before his very eyes, years of hope sparked his nerves, years of happiness flashed on his face, and the years of the childhood friend he once had were right in front of him back after almost a decade apart.

“___?”

Tagged: @manuosorioh @kaal-ee

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

The Flip Side Part 11

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~7.7k

Summary: Your motivation to continue working as a mobster in Chicago is dwindling after the birth of your daughter.

A/N: Enjoy! 

Warnings: Angst, violence, mentions of physical/emotional/verbal abuse, death, blood

Bucky stumbles off of the bike as he tries to keep both it and him from hitting the ground. He knows that Nat will kill him if he damages it, but he’ll worry about that later once he addresses his wounds. He’d just sped back from checking on the warehouse that Hela mentioned in her letter to you. Nat had told him about it when he was mostly finished checking in on employees, and he’d already had a lot of bad news to tell you. 

Things were not going well at all. People were panicking and almost everywhere he went Bucky heard rumors about an attack at one of your properties. No one had told him which one it was, and until Nat texted him the letter from Hela he’d just been racing around to the most important ones until he figured it out. He truly had not expected to find Hela and the near dozen armed soldiers fortifying the building that they’d taken as their headquarters. 

He hadn’t seen Hela because as soon as he saw what he was driving into, he spun around and raced out of there. Unfortunately he didn’t go unnoticed and people started shooting at him fairly quickly. A couple rounds hit the bike and one grazed his leg, but otherwise he was just panicking. Bucky had only just taken off his shirt and tied it around his calf to stop the bleeding when Nat pulls into the garage. She sees him immediately and she parks in the closest space before jumping out of the car. She doesn’t pay any attention to her damaged bike that’s leaking some fluid as she kneels down in front of Bucky with a concerned look. 

“Are you okay? Let’s get you upstairs.”

Nat helps Bucky to his feet and he follows her lead to the elevator. He’s only limping a little, but it’s enough to slow him down and he scowls as he considers what he’s going to tell you. He’d already called Nat on the way back just to let her know that he might need back up. He’d circled the city for a while to make sure he wasn’t followed, not that he believed that Hela didn’t know where you lived. He just didn’t want to bring armed gunmen to your front door. 

“So the men who shot up Yelena’s deal are definitely working for Hela. She’s holed up in that warehouse near the docks where she wants Y/n to meet her.”

Nat frowns at the confirmation of her fears that Hela is moving very quickly. She’s not sure how she’s managed to infiltrate your ranks so quickly, but if you didn’t do something to reassure people that they wouldn’t be the next to fall victim to Hela’s conquest you were going to lose a lot more than money. The elevator arrives to Bucky’s suite and she practically drags him out into the kitchen. 

“We’ll go talk to Y/n as soon as I make sure you’re not going to bleed out.” 

Nat is only partially joking when she sees how much blood has already soaked through the brunette’s shirt. She leaves him briefly to go find his first aid kit, and in her rush she doesn’t realize that the letter she’d brought for you falls out of her pocket. Bucky frowns as he reaches out to grab it and study it. He’s almost disappointed that he didn’t get a look at the women who’d been so horrible to you, and not to mention to the many people she’d had killed just the other night. He wants to know who he’s going to be shooting to kill later, but he’ll just have to be patient. He’ll go with you on Saturday and meet her then. Hopefully her entourage is a little friendlier. 

You’d just set Natalya in her play pen when you hear the elevator ding from down the hall. You frown and Wanda turns from where she’s cleaning up the kitchen to watch Boone and Rudy run down the hall. You walk in that direction to wait and see who’s paying you a visit, and you’re surprised by what you see. 

“Bucky? Are you…what happened?” 

Bucky is still limping slightly where he walks beside Nat. The redhead’s got an arm around him as she leads him to the closest seat. The dogs are sniffing him furiously, but luckily he’s no longer bleeding so it’s not obvious to you what’s wrong with him. Wanda frowns when she realizes he’s hurt, but her eyes widen at what he says next. She’s already rummaging in the cabinets looking for something to give him when you sit down across from him with a tentative look. 

“Hela’s already started to stake a claim by taking over this building and killing everyone who won’t stand by her against you.” 

You look to the letter that Nat holds out to you in disbelief, and you have to remind yourself that Wanda’s standing somewhere behind you. You can’t lose it in front of her, but you’re also very not prepared to hear this news. You look to Bucky’s leg before you realize that he’d figured this out somehow, and it seems that he’d gotten hurt for his troubles. 

“Did you see her? What happened to your leg?” 

Bucky tells you in a quiet voice that he’d been investigating the rumors he’d heard all morning about someone trying to move in on your territory. It led him to the location where you were supposed to meet Hela Saturday, and he’d been greeted by the same hit men who’d attacked Yelena. You start to bounce your leg as you consider what this means for you and your neglected business. You have a choice to make and you get up and start to pace as soon as Bucky explains his injury. 

“It’s just a graze, but they didn’t take too kindly to me trying to see what they’re up to. I don’t know if she was there.” 

You offer Bucky a frown and turn as Wanda comes hurrying over with a glass of water and two pain killers. Bucky thanks her and Wanda lingers for a few seconds before deciding that she’s going to check on something in the kitchen. She can still hear from there, but she’s not so obviously eavesdropping as she finishes putting the dishes away. 

“She probably was. I’m sorry I sent you on this wild goose chase. I should have known she’d find a way to get my attention.” 

You need to try and stop Hela from causing any more damage. An impossible task, but you had an idea that buys you and your friends a little time to prepare for the fight that you know is just around the corner. 

“I’m going to have to call her and kiss her ass.”

Wanda wasn’t sure why she wanted to be present for the call, but she did and she was only regretting it immediately. After calling Steve and Yelena to let them know what was happening, Wanda had warned Pietro against leaving the building until you had a better idea of what was going on. You’d decided to move to your office because it felt weird to talk to your ex-girlfriend in the living room. You were also hoping that Wanda would decide to sit this out, but you’re not surprised when she just grabs a baby monitor and follows your lead. 

“So what’s the plan?” 

This comes from Nat who holds the door open to the office that you haven’t been in for a while. You have to resist the urge to clean your desk and the thin layer of dust before you sit down in the chair behind it with a sigh. You watch as your friends move to sit on the couch and chairs a few feet away. You move your phone closer to you as you sit back and look to your wife with a smile. You want her close to you if she doesn’t mind, and you smile wider when she walks behind the desk. 

“If she’s at the warehouse I’ll just call there and see if she wants to talk. Like I said, I’m going to have to kiss her ass so be prepared.”

Once Wanda sets the baby monitor down on the desk you hold out your arms so she can sit on your lap. You wrap an arm around her waist and reach for the phone, but you stop short when you glance to the monitor with a frown. You rarely hear anything through it, but it would be just your luck for Natalya to interrupt your call. You don’t want Hela to know any more than she has to about your life. She already knows about Wanda, and that’s too much as far as you’re concerned. 

“Nat, catch. You’re on baby duty, please and thank you.” 

Nat catches the monitor and holds it close as she watches Wanda shift on your lap to get more comfortable. You smile as you encourage her to lean against you before you take the phone off the cradle and start to dial. This is either going to go surprisingly well or it’s going to be a trainwreck. You’ll just have to see which one. 

Hela was holding a gun to someone’s head when you call her. She was trying to weed out who was still loyal to you, and she was down to the last three when someone sticks their head out of the office and calls her. She’s going to finish up here and pick up the call after, but when she realizes who it is waiting for her, she turns immediately. 

“Well, this is a surprise.” 

You tense immediately at the sound of her voice, and one of your hands squeezes your wife’s as you take a deep, silent breath. Her voice is slightly deeper since you last heard it and you briefly wonder if she’s smoking again. You glance toward your friends who are just listening carefully before you frown in response. 

“I figured I shouldn’t keep you waiting, Hela.”

She hums in response as she sits down in the uncomfortable chair behind the desk with a frown. She kicks her legs up onto it with a smile as she imagines you doing something similar. She can see you sitting behind your own desk looking the part of an important businesswoman, a mobster. 

“As nice as it is to hear your voice again, darling, I was mostly looking forward to seeing you again after so long.” 

You scowl at the flirtatious tone before you try to shake off how it makes you feel. You remember when it had first drawn you in all of those years ago, and you hate how easily you’d been fooled by it. You push down your shame as you consider how to be honest, but not too aggressive that it pisses her off. 

“Why exactly do you want to see me? If you’re wanting to tell me all about what you did last week, I already know most of it.” 

Hela smiles at this because she’s certain you don’t know even half of what she’s been planning for you. She considers telling you this, but she doesn’t want to make you too paranoid for her plan to work. She’s certain it will, but she wants everything to happen as soon as possible. She’s been very patient these last two months, and she’s tired of waiting around for you to get your act together. 

“Pray tell, what do you mean?” 

You grit your teeth as you think about everything that you assume Hela’s messed with this week. The hit and everything that went along with that, the attack during Yelena’s deal, the fire at Wanda’s restaurant, and then your no- so-glamorous escape from jail. You are sure there’s something you’re missing, including Hela moving in on your territory, but you’re mostly concerned about your friends and wife’s safety. That said, you wouldn’t put it past Hela to go after anyone and everyone that’s in her way. You’d seen her do it before, and you were going to have to move fast to stop her. 

“If I remember correctly, you enjoy bragging, so why don’t you tell me?” 

Wanda tenses at the laugh that comes through the phone. It’s far colder than she even imagined and she’s certain you feel her shiver against you. Your arms tighten around Wanda’s waist and you rest your head on her shoulder with a sigh. When she turns, you kiss her cheek and offer her a smile despite your desire to frown deeply at what Hela says next. 

Hela figures that you are pissed about everything and getting involved in your business was causing you trouble. That said, she’s certain that you care most about the indirect hits she put out on your family. She smiles as she wonders if any of them are there with you right now. 

“What is it that you want me to say? That I had everyone at the sad drug deal of yours killed? You didn’t really care about them. Or is it that I tried to burn your pretty immigrant wife’s face off?” 

Nat tenses when Hela mentions how she’d aimed to kill her sister, but she’s looking murderous by the time she insults Wanda. Bucky’s crossing his arms as he considers how you’re going to respond to this. You’re frowning as you take a deep breath and focus on how good your wife smells instead of Hela’s ugly words. She did always know how to get under your skin. 

“Careful, Hela. You sound jealous.”

There’s a deafening silence as you wait anxiously for Hela to respond. The brunette is scowling as she recalls her short visit at your wife’s restaurant. She had of course read up on you as soon as she realized she’d tracked you down. After reading about your years spent here evading arrest she’d learned about your marriage and the recent addition to your family. She’d wanted to just get rid of them, but she figured that you’d be more cooperative if she waited. 

“Is there something you needed that couldn’t wait until Saturday?” 

You consider asking her why she wants to meet you at all. You could also ask how she found you and why she’d come to Chicago after all of these years. Instead, you just frown before shifting in your seat so you’re a little more comfortable. Wanda holds your hands where they rest on her stomach as you decide to try and wrap this up. 

“Nope, I was just RSVP’ing for the meeting. We’ll be there.” 

The responding laugh is still as insulting as you remember it being and you have to stop yourself from slamming the phone back on the receiver in annoyance. You’re very glad you’re not having the conversation in person too because you are quickly realizing that you need to work on your poker face. It’s gotten pretty bad. 

“Oh no, Y/n, it’s just going to be us two. We have a lot to catch up on.” 

Hela tells you that she wants it to be just you and despite already deciding that you’re not going to listen to her you agree for the sake of getting off the phone quickly. You manage to hang up before Hela says something else insulting and you sigh heavily before you look to your wife and then friends with a grimace. 

“So that was Hela.”

You help Wanda to her feet before you stand up and run a hand through your hair with a frown. You are going to have to figure out how to safely go visit Hela, but for now you just need a drink. You look to your friends before catching the look between Nat and Bucky before the duo stands up to follow you back to the living room. 

Wanda frowns at the fact that you agreed to visit Hela alone, and she hopes you were lying or that you could be convinced to take someone with you. The idea of you going to meet this volatile woman alone makes her want to cling to you to keep you here. 

“Let’s get some drinks?” 

It’s an awkward few minutes while you sit with your friends drinking hot cocoa before you break the silence. You’d invited Steve over as well, and Wanda had called Pietro to let him know that he shouldn’t leave for a while. He said he would come up later to get a rundown of what was going on, but for now she was more focused on figuring out a plan. 

“I don’t particularly want to go meet her alone.” 

Nat and Bucky are already nodding in agreement and as Wanda returns from greeting Steve, she’s nodding too. You already know that you’re going to ask Steve at the very least to stay here with Wanda and Natalya while you’re gone. You don’t trust Hela not to try and use your meeting as a distraction to come after your family. You wonder how much of this you’ll actually be able to discuss in front of Wanda, but short of asking her to leave or leaving yourself she’s probably going to stick around. 

“Steve hey.” 

You catch him up quickly and before running the plan that you’re sure is very flawed by him and the rest of your friends. You’re glad that your friends are smarter than you because as soon as the words leave your mouth, you’re second-guessing them. 

“I’ll need to walk in there alone, but Nat maybe you can tail me while Steve stays here.” 

Bucky is frowning at the fact that he’s been left out while Nat is mostly focused on the small detail of you wanting to walk into a hostile situation without any true backup. She knew what you meant by having someone tail you, and she wasn’t going to just sit in a car a block away waiting until you needed help. Wanda watches you talk to your friends with a blank expression as she tries to process what’s happening. She’s never seen you and your friends talk about this type of thing. You’d mostly call them or take meetings elsewhere. You’d never brought your work home like this, and Wanda’s realizing how surreal it feels. 

She’s not sure she likes it. 

“You need someone closer to watch your back. You’ve said it yourself, she’s unpredictable. She could want to…” 

Nat trails off for the briefest of moments as she remembers that Wanda’s sitting with them and definitely paying attention to their conversation. She’s holding the baby monitor in her hands and she’s not sure if she wants Natalya to wake up just so she’ll have an excuse to leave this conversation. 

“Hurt you.”  “I’m also not going to sit this out. I’m fine. I just need some rest.” 

You frown skeptically at Bucky’s claim, but you don’t shoot him down immediately. The odds of him actually listening to you if you excluded him were slim. You’d rather him be prepared and you be briefed about what’s happening. You decide to let him and Nat work out the details because you can see that your wife is getting a little overwhelmed. You don’t want to stress her out by discussing it in front of her, but you also realize that she shouldn’t be kept in the dark. It’s a balancing act that you definitely don’t see yourself perfecting, but hopefully this won’t have too much practice after this. 

“Alright I won’t waste my breath trying to talk you out of it. Just let me know what you come up with.”

You turn back to Steve who’s sitting near Wanda and petting the dogs that have come to greet him. You’ve trusted him with your life many times, and you’re hoping that he doesn’t disappoint you for the first time while watching your wife. 

“Steve, you’ll be okay to hang out here?” 

You ask as casually as possible despite wanting to be much more specific. You want to make sure that Steve knows that he’s going to have your entire life in his hands. He nods as he looks up from Boone who’s stuck his face in Steve’s to try and get more pets than his brother. The look he shoots you is enough for you to believe that he understands what’s at stake and you relax a little. 

“Of course. I’ll keep an eye on them.” 

Wanda looks to Steve when he says this because she knows who he’s talking about. She might be a little ignorant, but she was mostly worried about you and Natalya. Hela had already hurt her and despite being able to do it again, Wanda’s more nervous about you since you’ll be the one walking into the lion’s den alone. 

Once everyone’s left to figure out the logistics of Saturday, you and Wanda are left thinking about what’s to come. Steve decided to stop by Pietro’s first before heading out, so you probably wouldn’t see the older Maximoff until later, if at all. You were only a little anxious about what you were about to face because Wanda hasn’t said a word since your friends have left. She’d just gone to check on Natalya and you’ve cleaned up all of the hot cocoa so you don’t have anything else to do to stall. You take a deep breath before you’re heading toward the nursery. 

“All good in here, Wands?” 

You walk inside to see that Rogue is standing beside Wanda as she looks into the crib. Natalya is starting to get fussy and Wanda didn’t want to try picking her up alone so she’s just trying to soothe her daughter when you arrive. She’s still a little tense from the idea of you basically offering yourself up to your ex, and she has to bite back the first retort that comes to mind in. She turns to you with a frown before she looks back to Natalya with a questioning look. 

“What about you, Y/n?”

You’re thrown off by this question because you’re pretty sure you didn’t miss Wanda’s answer. You realize quickly that she’s ticked at you and you have to suppress the urge to back away. Instead, you walk towards her and grab Natalya who’s started to cry at this point before turning back to your wife’s expectant gaze. 

“What do you mean?” 

You’re still a little lost, and the glare that your wife shoots you is only confirmation that she’s mad and that’s enough to make you flee. You walk out and head to the kitchen under the guise of getting Natalya a snack. Wanda unsurprisingly storms after you and she watches with a huff as you head for the fridge and open it to find something to distract yourself with. 

“I mean what about you? You’re just going to face someone who could want to kill you, unarmed? That’s ridiculous!” 

You wince and promptly shut the fridge as you realize that this conversation is going to require all of your attention. You aren’t surprised to see your wife’s scowling at you, and you sigh in defeat before moving to sit down. You put Natalya in your lap as you pat the cushion next to you with a pointed look. 

“I’ll be okay, Wands. If she really wanted to kill me, she wouldn’t drag all of this out.” 

You only partially believe this, and you can tell that Wanda’s not convinced as she comes to sit beside you with her frown securely in place. She doesn’t know Hela as well as you do, but she feels like she knows enough to decide that you can’t count on her meeting any of your expectations. She’s surprised you in multiple ways this week, but somehow you still think that you can count on her for something. She doesn’t understand it and Wanda’s trying really hard not to scream at you in frustration, but you’re not making it easy. 

“You don’t know that, Y/n! She’s waited this long to find you again; she could just be toying with you. Do you want her to kill you because going in there without backup is a way to guarantee it!” 

You don’t say anything immediately and you just stare at Natalya who’s reaching out for your hair with a whine. You give her some of your hair because you figure you deserve it. You’re frustrated with yourself for many things, but your inability to explain your plan to your wife is probably near the top of the list. You turn towards her and shift Natalya from your lap to in between you and your wife. You stop short of reaching out for Wanda when you see her tense up, and you shoot her an apologetic look before sighing heavily. 

“I get it. No matter what I do it’ll be risky, Wands. I just--.” 

You can’t help how your mind goes back to the many times you’ve thought this exact thing when you’d been with Hela. You’d told yourself that you could make it just so long as you did what she wanted and didn’t make her mad. You’d failed to realize then that she was never going to make you feel safe. No matter how you behaved or what you told yourself, she had thrived off of your fear, and quite literally gotten off at the power she had over you. You should know that whatever she has planned for you this time is going to be more of the same thing, only worse. 

Wanda feels her heart start to race when she notices the stubborn look in your eye. She’s been on the receiving end of this look many times, and she realizes that what you’re about to say isn’t something that she’s going to like. 

“I just need to play the game, Wanda. If I don’t who knows what she’ll do.” 

Wanda doesn’t know exactly what you mean by this, but she’s already desperate to change your mind. She reaches out for you and squeezes your hand tightly and you look to her in surprise when she doesn’t even flinch. 

“I know you’re mostly worried about us, Y/n, but I need you to worry about yourself too.” 

You look away so Wanda can’t see the guilt that’s written all over your face, but it’s still painfully obvious when you feel your face flush as tears fill your eyes. You’re so frustrated and you really don’t know what to do. As Wanda said, you don’t know what Hela has planned and you can’t even pretend that you’ll be prepared, but you have to try. You have to make sure that above all that your family is safe. You’re just not sure if this will be possible without giving yourself up. 

“You two are more important.” 

You hold Natalya tightly as you turn so you’re looking outside at the darkening sky. Today had seemed to last forever, but you know that despite how tired you are you’ll have trouble sleeping tonight. You miss Wanda’s troubled look and how she bites her lip as she reaches out for you again. You’re surprised by the feeling of her hand on your cheek, and you can’t help but turn back toward her. The look in her eyes makes you want to cry harder, and by the time she speaks up you can’t see her through your tears. 

“That’s not true. I’ve always wondered how you couldn’t see you like I do. The strong, beautiful woman who swept me off my feet all those years ago. I never understood it, but now that I know about Hela it makes a little more sense.” 

You try to look away in shame at the reminder of how Hela ruined you, but Wanda holds firm and keeps you looking at her as she wipes her own tears away.

“I hate that she made you feel like this, detka. You’re worth so much more than that, and I promise that once she’s dead and gone, I’ll be reminding you of this every chance I get. Okay?” 

Wanda lowers her arm because it’s starting to hurt, but she grabs one of your free hands as she watches you continue to cry. You wish that believing this was as easy as Wanda simply telling you, but it would take more than that to undo Hela’s cruel teachings. You hope it will be easier once she’s gone because you still believe that your safety is not nearly as important as your wife and Natalya’s by the time you go to bed. 

The next morning is understandably tense. You didn’t sleep well at all and Wanda despite being able to sleep soundly was anxious as soon as she opened her eyes. She let you help her get out of bed and wash her hair before you both went to check on Natalya. She was sleeping in this morning, so Wanda decided that it would be a good time to change her bandages. They’re already starting to soak through and be uncomfortable, so once she’s changed into comfortable clothes, she heads back to the bathroom to gather everything she’ll need. 

“I’m going to start on breakfast, unless you want help?” 

You hover in the doorway while Wanda considers her options. She knows it will be faster and less painful with your help, but she’d seen the look on her brother’s face as he helped her change them. Her burns look disgusting and Wanda wanted to keep you from seeing her this way if at all possible. You see her internal conflict and you don’t want to push her so you leave to grab a cup of coffee for you two to give her some time. 

“Let me get us some coffee while you think it over.” 

Wanda releases a sigh as soon as she hears you moving around the kitchen. She stares at her gross bandages before shaking her head with a frown. You’re not going to like the looks of her burns, but luckily they’ll heal and hopefully she won’t scar. She decides that having you see them now will save both of you worry and when you return a couple of minutes later, she has everything set out. 

“Here you go.” 

Wanda smiles but she looks toward the bedside table and you quickly get the hint that she wants to wait. You place both mugs down before carefully climbing on the bed once Wanda says she’d like your help. You offer her a smile before taking stock of what’s in front of you before shooting your wife a questioning look. 

“Which one do you want to start with?” 

When she holds out her left one first, she thinks you’re just going to get right to it. Instead you look at the bandage carefully before you ask a few questions about her injuries to try and make this as painless as possible. When you start to take off the first bandage, Wanda tenses in anticipation, but it’s not the pain she’s worried about. When you see the pink blistering skin you feel your chest tighten. The burn is a lot larger than you thought and you understand Wanda’s reluctance to move much at all a lot better now. 

“I hope you got something strong for this Wands, this looks painful.” 

You’re frowning as you carefully clean and then cover the burn with another bandage. You’re quiet because you’re concentrating on how Wanda reacts to each thing you do. She seems to be tolerating it pretty well until you get to the other arm. She hisses once the bandage is off and you realize why she wanted you to start with the other one. This burn looks a lot worse and you’re sure it hurts more too. You sigh as you consider how you could end Hela’s life in the most painful way possible. You are on the third possibility before Wanda speaks up because you’d started to scowl as your mind has wandered. 

“It’s okay, detka. They gave me Oxy.” 

You only smile a little at this because your mind is in too dark of a place for humor at the moment. You consider how you could sneak in a weapon and just shoot Hela on the spot, but it’s more than likely that you’d die as well. You’re not sure it would be worth it, and you need to check in with your friends to see if they have any better ideas. 

“I’m going to make you another promise, Wands. Whether it’s by my hand or someone else’s, Hela is going to die.” 

Wanda smiles widely before she leans forward to kiss you. She pulls away before you can really react, and she’s smiling before she shoots you a serious look. 

“I get to do it.”  “No, Wands.” 

Bucky groans as he forces himself to get out of bed a little after 10. His leg is sore, but he’s walking better than he was yesterday. He credited that to rest and a nice strong pain killer. The smell of coffee and breakfast is what gets him to leave his room and investigate. He’d been a little out of it after his medication and he’d almost forgotten that Natasha had slept here. She’s in the kitchen cooking when Bucky walks in and she offers him a smile before handing him a cup of coffee. 

“Thanks, Nat.” 

With a kiss on the cheek, Bucky drags himself into a chair after Nat insists that he sits. She wants him to be at his best when tomorrow rolls around, and that requires resting as much as possible. She had thought about a plan for dealing with Hela and it was mostly worked out at this point. She just needed to make sure that everyone was on board with her plan. She wants Hela gone as quickly as possible, and she aims to get this done tomorrow. She hands Bucky a plate of food and a fork before looking back to the rest of the food on the stove. She turns off the heat before making herself a plate and moving to sit beside Bucky. 

The two of them had started seeing each other almost a year ago. At first they’d kept it a secret because if it didn’t end well, they didn’t want it to blow up in their faces. They were good friends beforehand and were certain that they could still work together if their romantic relationship went south. Luckily it hasn’t yet, but their family found out a lot sooner than they would have hoped. 

It was difficult to keep a secret when Yelena liked to show up without calling. After the first three times she’d come by Nat’s apartment while the redhead was with Bucky, she realized that something was up. She only had to follow her sister for a night to realize that she and Bucky were sleeping together. She’d knocked on his apartment door and confronted them about it, but she honestly didn’t think it was that big of a deal. She was mostly just glad that her suspicions were right, and after gloating a little she let them carry on. 

You found out next because you spent a lot of time with Bucky given that he was basically your shadow. You were thrilled when you found out. Well, you’d been surprised to see that Nat was half-dressed in Bucky’s apartment when you visited, but after the shock wore off you were thrilled for your friends. You wanted them to be happy and you promised them you would never stand in their way. 

“So I had an idea for tomorrow.” 

Bucky sets down his fork as he looks to Nat when her demeanor changes completely. He knows where this is going and it requires his full attention. For this reason, he takes another sip of coffee as he nods for her to continue. 

Nat tells him her plan to have the two of them plus a couple others tail you to where the meeting will be tomorrow. They’ll find a place to camp out that is close enough to act if needed, but far enough away that they’re not detected. Bucky frowns slightly because he realizes that Nat wants to try and end this tomorrow. 

“You want to try and take her out?” 

Nat nods as she pushes around her eggs with a shrug. She’s worried and doesn’t have much of an appetite, but she forces herself to take a bite before continuing.

“I was hoping to. We can be in Y/n’s ear so we know what’s going on, and she can give us a signal.” 

After working out the details for a bit over the remainder of breakfast, Bucky decides that this is going to be their best bet. On such short-notice and the demand to just have you go meet Hela, there wasn’t much else they could do. He was cautiously optimistic about how this would go for you. He’s almost more worried about you meeting Hela face to face for the first time in a decade. He, like everyone else, had thought about how much of your personality could be shaped by your experience with the brunette. You’d become involved with the mob only shortly after leaving Hela, and you’d fallen into a role similar to hers within a year. He wondered if you did this intentionally, and if so why. Why would you want to be a part of something that had caused you so much stress? He couldn’t understand it, and it wasn’t his business really. He just wanted to make sure that seeing Hela tomorrow wouldn’t land you back where you started. 

“Yelena and Steve will hopefully be up for staying with Wanda, Little Nat and Pietro.” 

Bucky realizes he’s spaced out, but he nods in agreement. He can’t see any of them objecting to this, except maybe Yelena. She might want to help shoot up your meeting, but they needed to try and equally divide their group as much as possible. She knew you’d throw a fit if Wanda wasn’t taken care of, but she also knew that you’d have them all stay and protect your family if you had a choice in the matter.

“We’ll run it by, Y/n after talking to Yelena and Steve.” 

Nat shakes her head because despite the fact that it’s just going to be a phone call, she wants Bucky to actually rest. She knows that she can count on him to have her back any day, but she still wants him at his best for tomorrow. There’s too much at stake for one of them to slip so she insists on doing all of the work today. Bucky considers arguing he realizes that Nat’s right. He wants tomorrow to go as well as feasibly possible, so he going to take it easy today while hoping that you do the same. You need to be ready for tomorrow. You arguably have the most important job of all of them. 

“Wanda, please.” 

You try to reach out for your wife, but she shakes you off as she gets off the couch and starts to pace angrily. You’d been watching a movie and trying relax with your wife and daughter when the anxiety of what you had planned for tomorrow became too unbearable to ignore. You’d wanted to be honest with your wife and this included divulging the lengths that you planned to go to in order to get Hela vulnerable enough to kill. 

Wanda had not liked any of what you’d said, but the fact that you were willing to stay away from them for as long as it took made her furious. She didn’t want you with Hela at all. She’s afraid that any time in the brunette’s company will give her the opportunity to manipulate you again. She worries that she’ll never see you again if she agrees to this. 

“No, Y/n! That’s not an option. Why would you want to stay with her at all?” 

Wanda couldn’t wrap her mind around it and she’s more than a little pissed that you barely seem bothered by this. You’ve made up your mind and both of you know it. Wanda’s just not ready to commit to this yet. She wants to try and talk some sense into you. 

You stand up with a sigh, but you don’t try to reach out for your irate wife. She’s too worked up and you just focus on Little Nat in your arms for a moment. You kiss her head and smile when she looks up at you curiously. She grabs your hair and you let her tug on it as you turn your attention back to Wanda who’s wearing down the rug as she continues to pace angrily. 

“I don’t want to Wanda. Please know that I’d much rather kill her and then come home to you. She’s smart though and if tomorrow’s plan doesn’t work, I’ll need to find a way to buy Nat and Bucky time to try again.” 

You don’t mention how she might make you do things that you’d sworn off of, or that she might want to hurt you again. You shake these thoughts away as Wanda stops in her tracks and glares at you. You don’t realize that she’s also thinking about how your boundaries might be pushed and she hates the idea of you quite literally being back in the arms of your abusive ex. She is of course worried about other things as well. Like how long she might have to be without you, and what you could get up to while you’re gone. 

Wanda doesn’t want to consider that you’ll start drinking again, or that you’ll do drugs or some other destructive habit. She can’t even think about the possibility of Hela wanting to reclaim you, be that by marring you with bruises, or taking you to bed. She hates all of it and if her arms didn’t already hurt from being so tense, she’d pick up the bowl of popcorn on the table in front of you and chuck it. 

“I don’t like it, Y/n. What will she have you do? I’m worried about what happens to you once you agree to this.”

You had thought of this too of course, but you hadn’t wanted to give it too much thought because it was causing you to feel panicky. You had to set hard limits for yourself early on, but somehow make Hela believe that you’d be okay with them. You were hoping that she’d be less likely to push you if she thought you’d be okay with something. 

“As fucked up as it sounds, Wands. I’m hoping she will just try to intimidate me by hurting me. I promise that I’ll try to hold off on anything worse than that for as long as I can.” 

Your wife glowers at the thought of Hela hurting you, and the fact that you’re already expecting it. She knows you’re hoping to be in and out before she does too much damage, but you’re not sure what will happen tomorrow and you want all of your bases covered. You don’t want Wanda to be in the dark, but you also don’t want to stress her out too much. You’re quickly realizing that you’ve failed as she starts to cry. 

“Detka, please. Don’t do this."

Wanda falls to her knees at your feet and she clings to you desperately as she starts to sob. Your hold on Natalya tightens as you reach down to try and get Wanda to let up a little. Holding you so tightly has to hurt her. 

“Wands…” 

You feel your own vision start to cloud with tears as Wanda refuses to look at you as she keeps her face buried in your stomach. Both of you feel like you’re going to be sick, but Wanda’s nausea is a mix of the pain in her arms and the anxiety of having you leave her for who knows how long doing God only knows what with Hela. She can’t lose you. She meant what she said about her and Natalya needing you, but everyone else did too. You were this family’s rock whether you realized it or not. Without you they wouldn’t have all found each other, and she’s not sure how they’ll survive without you. 

“Please don’t leave us. I think it would kill me.”

You take a deep breath to try and center yourself before you reach out for your wife again. Her hold’s started to falter and you need her to be looking at you as you say this. You gently lift her chin so you can look into her tear-filled eyes. You want to kneel down too but Natalya’s presence on your hip makes that difficult, so you just bend over slightly as you try to assuage your wife’s fears as well as your own. 

“Wands, I’m not going to leave you and Natalya for long. I won’t be gone for any longer than I was before. I promise I’ll always come back to you. There’s nowhere else I want to be.” 

Wanda continues to cry as she drops her arms that are burning painfully to her sides. She wants to believe you and she supposes she has no choice but to do so. She hates that uncertainty of everything and although this is similar to sending you off to jail, it’s also much, much worse. 

She needs tomorrow to go well because she’s not sure how long she’ll be able to hold out hope for you to return relatively unscathed. She needs you to come back as you are. Her caring and loyal wife who has promised to do better for their daughter. She needs to believe that you’ll get through this, and then when you come back, you’ll get started on truly freeing yourself from the mob. 

Masterlist

[jawritter]

If It’s Meant to Be

Pt. 9

Summary: Bad things happen to good people, that’s just the rule of thumb. But sometimes, things happen for a reason, and that reason is so you can find the person you’re meant to be with…

Pairing: Alpha!Beau Arlen x Omega!Reader

Warnings: 18 + ONLY!!! ANGST!!! 

Word Count: 2595

A/N: This fic is completely unbeta’d, so all mistakes are mine! Please do not copy my work! Enjoy!

My Masterlist          Series Masterlist

Sleep? What is that? Y/N wasn’t even sure anymore. Mostly because every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was Beau’s way to the adorable, kicked puppy face he’d been making ever since she showed up at the hospital to collect him. When she opened them, well, son of a bitch if he wasn’t just beyond the threshold of the door of her bedroom, lying on the couch. It did no good to close the door either, because she knew that he was still there, just beyond the door. Long, seven-hour sleep battle story later, well, let’s just say she didn’t sleep and stop being dramatic about it. 

Beau, if he was awake, he didn’t move around much or sit up at all during the night while she had the door open, so she assumed that he’d slept just fine, which pissed her off even more if she was being honest. Because she was grumpy when she didn’t get any sleep, and the fact that she was already pretty pissed at the handsome Alpha did not help her mood at all, even after she’d gotten out of bed for the hundredth time that night at two in the morning, and slammed to door shut so that she wouldn't’ have to see him lying there anymore. 

The shower she’d taken had done little to relieve the tense feeling in her chest either that morning before she dressed herself to get ready for work. Not that Tonya and Donno required a uniform or anything, still, she liked to at least show up for work looking presentable. Which usually meant a morning shower to help wake herself up, and then a light coating of makeup and at least fixing her hair somewhat for the day. But today, her mind was too stuck on the Alpha laying on her couch with the blanket wrapped up to his throat, which sent her anxiety through the ceiling, which made her not really care so much about what she looked like today, and in a continual, spiraling effect, caused her to forgo the makeup, and just throw her hair into a messy bun. 

She knew that really, she probably shouldn’t even go to work today, but going to work was a better option than being stuck in the house with an Alpha that offered her a Plan B pill at the thought of having his pups, so there’s that. 

Y/N took one last, disgusted look, at her reflection, shaking her head at the state of herself, but not in the mood to do anything about it, and ripped the bathroom door open to go and find whatever she did with her comfortable shoes for work. 

Normally, Y/N would just eat breakfast at the diner, because Donno usually cooked enough to feed an army in the morning, and Tonya and herself ate for free, but as she placed her empty coffee mug in the sink, the Omega in her whined loudly at the injured Alpha that was still laying on the couch, wrapped up in his throw blanket that was to small for him, and made his soak clad feet stick out.

He really was a pathetic sight if she did say so herself, and honestly, as angry and as hurt as she was by him, she couldn’t continuously leave the house without at least checking on the man to make sure he didn’t need anything before she left, even though the more human side of her was content to let him lay there miserable as she was and starve. She could be petty apparently, and that’s something she hadn’t realized about herself. 

With a deep, annoyed sigh, Y/N made her way over to where Beau was laying, carefully sniffing the air as she approached to make sure that he wasn’t in rut, because she could see the sweat causing his soft hair to stick to his forehead slightly, but she didn’t scent any rut in his warm, coffee, pine, and sandalwood scent. The very scent she hated to admit still made her shiver slightly, but she’d deal with that later. 

Concern creased her forehead as she knelt down in front of him, placing the back of her hand against his clammy skin to discover he did indeed have a fever. 

Beau grunted, but never opened his eyes as he shifted slightly on the sofa, turning his head away from her to face the back of the couch. Of course he would be off put by her touch, how stupid of her to think that he’d actually WANT her to take care of him. It wasn't like after their confrontation yesterday when they got there they’d had a giant, love filled, conversation with forgiveness, and heartfelt shit. Honestly, neither had said two damn words to one another again. She stayed locked in her room with a book, doing her best to ignore him, and he laid himself down on the couch with the phone, ignoring her. 

She quite honestly didn’t know what to do. He had a fever, but he didn’t smell like rut, so he wasn’t IN rut. He really didn’t want her to be his mate, he was just stuck there. He’d said he was going to try to contact his ex-wife, and as much as that fucking hurt, it was probably for the best, but here he was, and she hadn’t come to collect him. The fever could mean that he was about to go into a very bad rut, and then what? 

She was just about to say, ‘fuck it’, and leave him there to go to work when Beau jumped slightly, his eyes shooting open, and looking around widely until he registered where he was. She hurried back in surprise, and watched in silence as he grimaced and shivered before laying back down on the couch where he’d been. 

“You scared me,” he admitted, but said nothing as he sank deeper into his small throw blanket, shivering like he had a chill. He didn’t even bother reopening his eyes again. 

She stood there, eyes glued to him, jaw set tight, and in such inner turmoil that there were no real words to even describe what she was feeling. On one hand, the petty, mean side of her wanted to jerk the blank off of him, and throw it across the room before she left to go to work, just to make him have to get up and collect it, but the Omega inside of her was worried about him, and wouldn’t let her move one way or another. So she just stood there in a weird state of, help him, or leave him there. 

“I’ve got to go to work,” she announced after a while, and Beau cracked an eye at, laying there looking much like a wounded, disheveled lion that was NOT in the mood for anyone’s shit. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t need any food or anything before I left.”

“‘M not hungry,” he murmured, “don’t feel all that great, just wanna sleep.”

He shivered harder, and Y/N instinctively knelt beside him again, causing his eyes to shoot open, but this time he didn’t flinch away when she reached to touch his forehead again, he felt even hotter than he had a moment ago, and that’s when the petty side of her shut up, and the worried Omega took over; whether she like it or not. 

“You’re burning up,” she mumbled out loud. “Do you feel like you’re going into rut?” 

Beau furrowed his brows in concentration for a moment, clearly trying to make his fever soaked brain register with the rest of his body. 

“No, no I don’t think I am, it doesn’t feel like it anyway,” he answered after a moment before grabbing the back of the couch with his good arm, and forcing himself to sit up, and Y/N backed up immediately to give the Alpha his space. If he wasn’t going into rut, that means something isn’t right. It sent her anxiety through the roof in a way she didn’t expect. She couldn’t understand why the hell she cared so fucking much?! It wasn’t like this changed the fact that he didn’t want her. 

“Fuck my head is killing me,” he admitted, reaching up to press the heal of his palm against his temple. 

“Well you’ve got to be running a fever for a reason, are you sure you’re not going into ru–”

“I’M FUCKING SURE I’M NOT IN RUT GODDAMMIT!” He suddenly yelled at her, and she jumped almost the length of the living room at his unexpected irruption. She had never heard the full use of his Alpha voice before, and it was terrifying. Tears immediately started to sting at her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She refused to give him the satisfaction. 

“I’m sorry,” he corrected quickly, clearly surprised in his own outburst. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. I really didn’t. It just came out. My head and shoulder are killing me, and I know that’s not an excuse at all, but it just… I’m sorry, it really did come from nowhere. I promise I’m not in rut, and I don’t feel like I’m going into it either. I just feel like utter shit.”

Y/N stood there for a moment, debating. The Omega inside of her still wanted to help the Alpha, even if he was rude and snappy. She wanted to just leave him there if he was going to act like that. This was her house and her rules after all. Still, she knew that if she left and for some reason, something happened to him, and she left knowing he was feeling bad when she’d left him, she knew that the guilt would eat her alive. Fuck her life honestly. 

“Well, it’s not your rut, then let me look at your shoulder, then see about getting something in your system to get the fever down,” she offered, taking a test step closer to him. 

“I thought you had to go to work,” he said, and she stilled in her steps. “You don’t have to take care of me Y/N, I know you really don’t want to take care of me anyway. I can get my own meds.”

“Would you stop being stubborn and just let me look under those bandages,” she stated flatly, refusing to back down. She wasn’t going to let him guilt her, or scar her. Not this time. 

Beau sighed and shook his head as he looked down at his lap. “Whatever you think you need to do, darlin.”

Y/N’s nostrils flared, and anger boiled in her system. She was just trying to help the stubborn Alpha, and she felt like he could care less! It was insulting and annoying all at the same time. Still, she didn’t want the sheriff to die on her couch, and then the Alpha he worked with breathing down her neck along with his daughter. So she moved over to him, and started to take the sling from his shoulder, which caused him to yelp in pain and grab her waist with his good arm. 

She froze at his touch, memories that shouldn’t be flooding her mind swarmed in front of her and she had to bat them away quickly.

“Have you taken any of your pain meds during the night?” she questioned as she slowed her movements to not jostle him more than she needed too as she worked to slowly remove the bandages. 

“Yeah, every six hours, but it stopped working so well at about four this morning,” he admitted through gritted teeth as she slowly pulled the last of the bandages away, revealing the angry, red wound where the bullet had entered his shoulder. 

“Maybe we should take you to get this looked at again,” she admitted. “I think it looks infected.”

“Fuck me,” he growled throwing his head back against the couch as his phone chimed loudly next to the pair of them, and he reached for it without thinking, causing Y/N to back away from him. It was almost as if he didn’t care how close she was, or that she was trying to help him, he did what he felt like doing, even though it was rude and mean and it just made her that much more irritated with him. 

“It’s my daughter,” he revealed. “She’s worried about me. Carla told me last night that I couldn’t stay with her, that she would not have an Alpha that was close to his rut around her daughter. Nevermind the fact that it’s my own goddamn kid and I’d never hurt a hair on her head.” 

Y/N tried to swallow down the emotions that arose in her at his little revelation, but she wasn’t able to hide it off of her face apparently, because Beau cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter, his emerald orbs staring at her, almost searching. 

“I’m sorry that you’re stuck with me, I really did try to leave with her, but she wouldn’t have me. This was never my intention. If I would have just listened to Jenny and not walked up to that fucking truck I would have not gotten shot, and you could have moved on with your life, and not been stuck with me here.”

“What were your intentions then Beau?” Y/N questioned as she stood up after helping him back into his sling. He was shivering so hard his teeth were practically rattling in his skull, but Y/N didn’t much care at the moment, because honestly, the fact that he actually called his ex-wife to try and get her to come and save him from her, that fucking hurt bad. “Were your intentions to just use me, and then send me on my way? Didn’t like what you saw once I really got in there with you? Hmmm? Maybe you just wanted a rut bunny, and one just happened to be stupid enough to show up at your door? That it?” 

The questions tumbled out of her in haste of heated anger, and all Beau could do was sit there, his arm in a sling, sweat dampened hair, hollow looking gaze, and mouth slightly open as he tried to process what she’d just said to him. 

“I… No, I never meant to—”

“You know what Beau, it doesn’t matter, it's done, and you’re here, whether you want to be or whether I want you to be or not. So get some fucking clothes on, and we will go see why that fucking wound is infected.”

Y/N stood harshly, marching towards the kitchen. Not that she was hungry at all, she just wanted to get some distance between them. Being that close to his scent, it was hard to stay angry with him when she was that close to him, and dammit, she wanted to be mad for a while. 

“I need help with a shirt—”

“Figure it out,” she shot back at him over her shoulder as she grabbed her keys off the key ring. “I’ll be waiting in the car.”

If she lived through this, really lived through it, this would be the last time she ever helped an Alpha with anything. Trust was something in her that he’d absolutely broken and stepped on. So was the notion that love existed at all, because if she ever loved anyone, she stupidly though it would have been Beau.

Forever:

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[booburry]

Echoes in Time Chapter 5: Drifting in Space

Chapter Summary: Sam and Mallory find themselves in a precarious situation when they wake, only for it to get worse with the arrival of Lillian.

WC: 8,141

CW: Fictional Violence, Death, Emotional Angst

A/N: Please remember that I love you all. Also, I just wanted to share this piece of music as I found it absolutely beautiful and I wrote the last third of the chapter with this piece. I just feel like it adds to that part if you care to indulge.

https://spotify.link/BJBPF6T6GDb

Mallory felt herself smile as she drifted in her dreams, enwrapped in the familiar black sea she always floated down. Surrounded by the faint flickers of white lights, now with swirls of cosmic dust coming in and out of focus. It was beautiful and peaceful, the symphony of sounds vibrating through her body.

It calmed her and kept her feeling safe. Yet, slowly, she started to realize that the sounds were getting louder, the vibrations harder as if to force her from this place.

Mallory’s eyes shot open to realize that she was still on Sam’s ship, they were still lying on the floor, Sam’s arms still cradling her against him...Sam lightly snoring.

A loud crackle filled the cockpit as, slowly, a large red ship came into view overhead of them.

“I don’t think there’s anyone in there, boss.” A strange voice spoke to her, Mallory shoved Sam harshly in response, immediately waking him. He shot her a glance, initially upset with the harsh disruption to his slumber, before he quickly heard and saw what Mallory did. His lips pursed, freezing for a moment but Mallory saw him thinking, calculating the position they were in and what they were up against.

With a pit in her stomach, Mallory seriously wished she had allowed Sam to push her for pilot and weapon training sooner. She had been stubborn thinking that she wouldn’t need it, that she would always be ‘planetside’—as Sam liked to call it.

Now she was the opposite of that. Aside from the large ship that slowly sailed past them, she spotted at least two other vessels flying around in the distance and assumed they were more unfriendly ships.

“Seems strange to just have a hunk of junk like that floating out here.” Another voice came over their comms. “Hey!” It yelled out. “If anyone’s alive in there, we just want to help.” The rough, menacing, voice elongated the ‘e’ within the word help, as if to mock the very concept.

Mallory looked to Sam for direction, panic growing in her eyes.

He calmly brought a finger to his lips to let her know they needed to stay silent. He then pointed to her and then behind her, Mallory following his direction to see the spacesuit Sam had used when teaching her. She looked back at him with a nod, Mallory trying to flinch a smile but she couldn’t—she was utterly terrified.

Yet, staring at Sam as he managed to stay calm, to watch her steadily, she found herself becoming grounded. She may be incapable of handling what was in front of her, but he wasn’t.

Thatmade her smile, genuinely, before Sam nodded to signal it was ‘go time’. Slowly they crept to their destinations, Mallory to the suit and Sam to the pilot seat. Mallory turned to watch him as she started to complete her assignment.

She had only ever seen Sam Coe as the dad, the teacher, the worried protector, the awkward and dorky cowboy but never...never like this. The way he leapt into his chair, immediately powering up the ship before she could even hear the voice over the comms react.

“Woah, it’s powering up boss!” The first voice said.

“I can see that!” The menacing one growled. Mallory heard Sam darkly chuckle.

“You guys picked the wrong ship.” He threatened them before shutting off their comms, boosting them forward and sending them into the nearby asteroid field. It was like he was one with the ship, his body slightly shifting with every motion they went, rolling them effortlessly to avoid oncoming artillery fire. She watched as one of the ships came into their sights, Sam leaning forward. “I got you...” He muttered before Mallory saw two missiles shoot past them overhead and collide with the front of the enemy ship.

Sam soared past the enemy, letting out an adrenaline-filled ‘Woo!’ as Mallory saw the glass of the enemy’s cockpit blasted open, bodies floating out into space. She had never seen such grim imagery before, but she had to imagine this was to be expected in spacecraft battles in, well...space.

“Hey, when you’re done, I will need you up here.” Sam called out to her, Mallory suddenly being pulled back from being captivated by Sam’s abilities and piloting prowess. In the time it took her to fully suit up, Sam had maneuvered through the asteroid field and taken out two more ships—which meant there was only one left, the big one.

She moved up and into the co-pilot seat, the chair automatically moving her forward while the dashboard moved towards her.

“Put your hands on the throttles.” Sam told calmly her, Mallory looked over at him quickly to see him nod down to his hands, to show her what he meant. He waited a moment after she did. “Good, now—” He sent them into a barrel roll to avoid a floating piece of debris.

Mallory felt that as Sam applied thrusters to move and turn the ship, her hands moved with him. The buttons that he pressed became highlighted on the dash in front of her.

Mallory smiled, quickly realizing that this must be how he taught Cora to fly—and what he had to do with her right now. Rolling up her imaginary sleeves, Mallory dialled in on everything Sam was doing, letting her hands move with his, watching how that correlated with the movement of the ship.

Something about the motions started to feel rhythmic to her, fluid like a dance but calculated like an equation. Thankfully, with a few more elegant moves from Sam, Mallory felt like she was getting the hang of it.

That was until she felt the ship jolt forward and something red pop up on her screen.

“Shit—that’s an engine out...” Sam muttered, his hand immediately flipping to his dash. “I need you to take control Mallory, we won’t be able to outrun them anymore.” He immediately left the controls, the ship slowing as Mallory let panic take her for a moment before Sam demanded her back into the present. “Mallory!” He called at her, snapping her back as she brought them into a nose dive to get away from the ship on their rear.

“What does this mean, Sam?” She called out, trying to think through the knot in her stomach and the sweat building within her temperature-regulated suit.

“Stay focused and keep them at least 100 meters away—their weapons are powerful but only in close range.” He called from the back of the ship, Mallory faintly hearing him rushing to grab light to heavy objects.

He made it sound so goddamn easy.

Mallory clenched her jaw as she tried to replicate the rhythm that Sam had driven this ship in, but with an engine down and him no longer being a guiding hand, it was impossible. The only thing going for her was, or at least Mallory thought and assumed, her movements were so irregular that they must be doing something to their benefit.

“How much longer Sam? I don’t think I—”

“Yes, you can.” He called back to her, not letting her finish a thought of self-doubt. “Give me a few more minutes, you can do this.” His words brought with them a warmth to her senses, giving her courage and determination. A buzzing filled Mallory’s ears, travelling down into her arms, hands and fingers—a feeling of knowledge and trust in her ability taking over any other thought that may have been present.

In a flourish of movements, Mallory shifted the power balance of the ship. She removed enough energy from their grav systems to ensure they weren’t floating. Then from one of their weapons, as she knew they only needed two; one to break through the shields before they regen, and another to make them sitting ducks.

She purposefully slowed down, baiting the enemy, watching her sensor to know when they would exactly be in range—the vibrations in her body and ears growing more intense that she almost didn’t hear Sam call out to her.

“Mallory? What are you doing?” He asked, not sounding so calm anymore. Mallory continued to route power within the system, this time from the shields to max out the engine and put the rest into the two weapons.

“I can do this, remember?” She called out to him, a smirk present on her lips as she felt a rush of what can only be described as...a sudden gain of ability.

Then she got the ping she wanted.

Sam and Mallory heard the sound that they were being locked onto—the next thing she wanted.

Mallory moved as one with the ship, dipping down, rolling to the side before looping upwards to be perfectly behind the large ship, their weapons already locking onto their engines.

“Holy sh—” She heard Sam mutter from behind her.

The green light popped up on her dash “LOCKED”, and she immediately let loose. She watched for the ship's shields to shimmer with each blast, timing it perfectly so that the first missile would hit the engine right as the shields fell.

Just like a calculated dance. Mallory thought to herself, yet it oddly did not feel like her thought, nor did this feel like her flying...and as that idea started to enter her mind, the buzzing faded and she seemed to return to the moment.

“What—”

“Quickly, dock them.” Sam called out to Mallory as she tried to regain her focus, the world around her going fuzzy for a moment as if she was trying to remember who she was, or where. “Mallory?” This time he called out to her with concern, causing her to scrunch her face together before refocusing on the dash in front of her.

She felt clumsy as she second-guessed which button was for the auto-dock. She finally decided on one when Sam’s finger moved into her vision, seamlessly setting the commands.

“What happened?” He asked her, pushing away the dash and forcing her chair to move backwards.

“I...I don’t know.” Mallory stammered, wanting to focus on what came over her but she knew there was a threat ahead of them, but it was hard. She felt Sam grab her by the shoulders, forcing her eyes onto him, his voice now coming to her through the comms.

“Just a little longer, okay?” He encouraged her but Mallory could sense the tension from what he saw—what she did—and Mallory felt that tension inside of her too. “I left a pistol and a shotgun out for you...and some frostwolf if things get bad.”

“Why would things get bad? You’ll be with me...” Mallory’s voice tapered off as she heard him sigh, noting how much more these helmets picked up with audio, “right?”

“You’ll stay here.” He told her, Mallory taking a defensive stance as their ship came under the enemies. They were moments away from connecting. “We don’t have time to argue, Mallory—please. Do you trust me?” He asked her a question he should already know the answer to.

“Of course.” She told him.

“Good—now are you ready?”

“If you mean am I equipped? Yes. If you mean have I ever shot a gun before? No…”

“Simple.” Sam said as Mallory heard the hissing of gears and pistons moving on the outside of the ship—they were finally docking. “Breath, aim and finger on the side until you pull the trigger. When one weapon runs out, use the other. Just stay here and protect yourself if one manages to get by.”

Mallory heard his words yet there was a loud ringing that started entering her ears.

“I believe in you.” Sam continued, taking a few tiny steps towards her. “You can do this, I promise we will get out of here safely, alright?” Mallory nodded, embracing his words and presence instead of that pestering voice inside. She took a deep breath as she felt her fears disappear; an odd feeling she didn’t have the luxury to dwell on.

There was a final hiss as the docking was complete, Sam giving a firm nod and rushing past Mallory, his rifle drawn. Seeing that door open to see another ship sent adrenaline coursing through her body, her finger pressed firmly against the side of her shotgun. She watched as Sam effortlessly brought two Crimson Fleet members down and continued to sweep the room and out of her view.

Mallory remembered he told her to hide, to take cover, but there was something immediately unsettling for her when he went out of view. It also, curiously enough, wasn’t a sense of panic that unsettled her, it was something more...Mallory wasn’t sure what that was exactly, or describe it.

It felt both foreign yet familiar, as if she could anticipate what was happening without knowing her surroundings.

She looked back at the frostwolf he had left behind for her, ‘just in case’. She placed her shotgun behind her body, ready to grab it but sensing she needed to look back.

A door opened outwards into the room Sam was still in.

Perhaps it was the adrenaline, the sudden and real danger Sam could be in, or that sixth sense she was experiencing, but Mallory acted without hesitation or fear. It was just like when she had maneuvered the ship expertly, the buzzing in her ear transitioned into that familiar, unsettling, hum.

Mallory drew her pistol, held her arms straight and with two shots to the head the man dropped dead, the feeling inside of her leaving as quickly as it came.

Mallory stared at the body, just long enough to accept that she had just killed a person and noted that it felt different from the ones she saw floating in space. However, seeing Sam round the corner in a hurry to see, to his shock, what she had managed to pull off, brought Mallory out of her thoughts and distress.

He was about to say something until his head turned to look into the room that the dead man had come from. He let go a good amount of bullets, pausing a short moment before quickly looking at Mallory and nodding his head at her.

“Come on.” He told her, his voice filling the inside of her helmet with a slight crackle. “There should only be a few more.” Mallory nodded, not saying anything while she cautiously walked forward, ensuring that she stayed hypervigilant with their surroundings.

Sam moved to the other side of the doorway, leaving space for her to take cover at the end of the corridor she walked down. She mimicked how Sam leaned his back against the wall, and once she was in position, he swung out and into the next room.

Mallory heard bullets firing and moved to provide some cover.

“Shit.” Sam’s voice came through the comms, Mallory looked to see where he was and noticed it seemed something in his rifle jammed. Now she was scared, nothing to help her, no sounds filling her sense.

No sounds. Mallory immediately thought, bravely moving into the room and catching an enemy by surprise. She released six shots, wishing to ensure he wouldn’t live but her aim was less accurate and her bullets wider spread this time around.

Still, she was sure she hit him at least twice, and he went down with a loud groan.

Quickly, Sam tossed his rifle aside only to grab one from the closest dead body, shooting the crippled enemy Mallory had shot in one swift motion. Sam stood up, giving Mallory a glance she couldn’t discern.

“You okay?” He asked her, slightly out of breath. She just nodded, Sam returning the same gesture before leading the way further into the ship. Before they got to the end, there was a loud hiss as a door opened and two suits filled the room, Sam and Mallory opening fire without reservation until they both dropped. “That should be it, but be careful. Stay behind.” He called out to her, Mallory unable to prevent a smile at how persistent he was with keeping her safe despite her having saved his ass twice already. “You like that?” He quipped, obviously having heard her exhale when she smiled.

“Keep your eyes peeled, cowboy.” Mallory teased back as they both cleared the last room before the cockpit.

“Alright, darlin’” He purred back at her, holding up to his threat from last night. Sam approached the door and opened it, immediately taking down the remaining enemy—most likely the captain of the ship.

Mallory felt herself let out the last small breath she had been holding onto this entire time. Sam turned to look at her, a proud and bewildered smile spreading across his face.

“I’m shocked at how well you did—are you sure you haven’t done this before? Not yanking my chain?”

“You don’t have a chain to yank—” Mallory started with her sarcasm before lightly recoiling at the look Sam gave her, reminding her that they had already gone over the unnecessary need to hide from him. “Promise you I haven’t. I...I don’t—”

“Fuck.” Sam muttered, his attention immediately on something behind Mallory. “Fucking, fuck!” He exclaimed as he rushed past Mallory. “God damnit it!!” He roared.

“What?” Mallory called out, not seeing or hearing what Sam was suddenly panicking and furious about.

“They sent out a distress call. They’ll be here—” Before he could finish his sentence they both heard the sound of ships—many ships—entering the space around them. They both rushed to the cockpit to see at least 8 Crimson Fleet ships in front of them, with god knows how many on their way. “She better hurry up.”

Mallory was about to ask who ‘she’ was until more ships jumped into their area...except these weren’t Crimson Fleet.

“Mark which is yours, Sam.” A southern woman’s voice spoke into the speakers of the cockpit.

“Easy.” Sam said to himself as he, once again, sat in the pilot’s seat and managed to take off just as the others started shooting at them. “Buckle up, Mallory.” He told her, however, she immediately noticed a shift in tone—he was all business and no play.

Mallory, as she secured herself, had a sick feeling growing within her at whoexactly this woman was. It made her feel worse to know she was about to be indebted to her. She felt her mind fade, her thoughts putting her elsewhere as she was terrified to meet Lillian Hart for many reasons.

She was the ex-person—as Mallory wasn’t entirely sure if they had been married or just partners—of the man she was, ill-advisedly, growing attached to.

She was the ‘mother’ who had brought Cora to such heartbreaking tears that she would never be able to forget.

And Mallory was petrified she wouldn’t be able to hold back her distaste for the person who just saved both of them from certain death. She knew she had to be cordial to an abuser and it made her violently ill.

Or perhaps that was the adrenaline.

Mallory was only pulled from her spinning thoughts when a large hand gave her shoulder a soft and gentle squeeze. She looked up to see Sam looking terribly distressed and depressed.

“Come, let’s go. She just docked.” Mallory’s face scrunched, at the pain she felt seeing and hearing his sadness, and at the confusion of how she managed to dock where his ship had been. Sam’s eyebrows pinched as he looked at the ground. He knew what she was asking “I had to, uh...I had to use it to save us. Our ship’s...gone.”

Mallory stood up and immediately, without hesitation, hugged Sam. He slowly wrapped his arms around her, allowing her to feel how much he was trembling, until his arms snapped back to his sides.

“Aww, isn’t that nice.” Mallory heard a southern woman’s voice from behind her. “I’m out here risking my life while you two are in here canoodling.”

“It’s not—” Sam was quick to reply, Mallory fixated on hearing and seeing his complete shift of self.

“It’s fine Sam,” Lillian informed them, her voice like nails on a chalkboard to Mallory, “let’s just get you back to our daughter, hmn?” Mallory saw how deflated the man became at the obvious insult and layers of undertone the woman’s voice carried. She felt her jaw set before she even managed to turn and look at her.

Yet Lillian was staring intently at Mallory, pausing a moment to lock eyes with her before turning away with a faint look of distaste. Sam seemed to take note of that exchange, Mallory seeing his lips purse, his fists clench, but he said nothing.

Lillian walked back to the docking hatch, Sam following with Mallory trailing behind a good distance. She stayed silent as they boarded Lillian’s ship and took the first seat she could while Lillian continued to lead a crusade with Sam behind towards the cockpit.

It wasn’t difficult, by any means, to hear anything that they were saying. Mallory tried to ignore it, which was a much more difficult task once they started raising their voices.

“What has gotten into you Sam?” Lillian demanded to know, her sweet southern voice turning sour.

“I told you that I didn’t meanto leave Cora, okay? I know what I did was stupid, I shouldn’t have fallen asleep—”

“It’s that woman, ain’t it? The one Cora keeps telling me about—she’s an issue, Sam. Making you act reckless again.”

“I know, I know.” There was a short pause, Mallory instinctively knowing Sam was taking one, or a few, deep breaths. “But it’s not like last time, not like how you found me.”

“I don’t know about that. Here I am, finding you again.”

“I just—I can’t do this right now.”

“Keep her away from my kid, Sam!” Lillian yelled out, it being evident to Mallory that she did not care that—or possibly even wanted—Mallory to hear her words. Words that, seemingly, pushed her last ‘I will stay polite’ button.

It was enough for Mallory to see the way Sam reacted around Lillian.

It was enough for Mallory to see and hear how hurt Cora was by her absent mother.

But it was too much to hear that selfish, self-centred, bitch tell Sam to take away someone who helped, not hindered, her kid.

“What kind of fucking parent are you?” Mallory spoke out loud as her anger could no longer be contained within herself, and even though she managed to keep her voice low and level—it seemingly travelled.

“What did you say?” Lillian demanded in a cold, flat, tone. Mallory stood up, feeling herself facing down a beast as Lillian pushed past Sam to rush into the room Mallory was in. The two women stared at each other, akin to an old western showdown—just without the tumbleweed and the background music.

“It’s pretty evident you heard me.” Mallory chided back, making a point to not give Lillian what she wanted, knowing it would drive a control freak like her deeper into her madness.

And it did.

Mallory swore she saw violence flash across her face, Lillian’s hand twitching toward her belt before Sam snatched her arm and held it in place.

“Stop, Mallory. It’s not helping and...” Sam sighed heavily, pained, as he let Lillian’s arm go. “You overstep.” He informed her, yet he couldn’t even look at her as he said it or after. He just turned and walked back into the room he had come from—defeated.

Lillian just smirked at Mallory with some sick, twisted, sense of victory.

The ship was as silent as a grave for the majority of the ride back to New Atlantis. Sam stayed where he went after speaking his hurtful and cowardly words. Mallory sitting where she was so that she could get off the ship as soon as possible, and Lillian was wherever the fuck she was—Mallory was trying not to think about that one.

She was really trying to not think of anything at all.

But Sam’s voice rang over and over in her mind. Telling her that she overstepped with her brain then creating further hurtful things from there.

She did not understand why he had said that. Mallory understands that she isn’t Cora’s parent, and she isn’t asking to be, but she also knows how much Sam loves how much she cares for her.

Also, she kept on circling back to why Sam grabbed Lillian’s arm—what was she reaching for that he needed to stop? Surely she wasn’t going to shoot Mallory for her single comment. Was that woman really that unhinged?

Mallory was so consumed with her thoughts that she didn’t notice Lillian having entered the room she was in until the woman sat across from her. Mallory looked up, her expression blank as she anticipated anything to happen.

Lillian just smiled and then relaxed by leaning her body against the back of her chair.

“Can we be cordial, Mallory?” Lillian asked with a false sweetness and innocence. Mallory just shook her head, leaning her forearms onto her thighs only to sigh as she looked at the floor.

“I think that will entirely depend on you, Lillian.” Mallory replied, most of her words meeting the floor until she spoke the woman’s name and finally met her gaze. She saw the flash of anger cross her face. Mallory provided a firm and fixed smile. “I, honestly, wouldn’t count on it though.”

“And why, exactly, is that?”

“Because I know the type of person you are, and I will never be able to look past that. You will never stop hurting two people I, so happen to, deeply care for.”

“You don’t know me at all.” Lillian stated, a familiar false southern charm laced between her words. “I mean,” she huffed a confident and pretentious laugh, “I’m sure Sam has told you a lot about me, but not all of it, so go ahead and ask. Maybe then we can be allies instead of enemies.” Lillian falsely invited a hand of friendship when Mallory knew she made her statement for the threat, but she wasn’t going to back down from any bully. She was too old to be a doormat.

“He actually avoids talking about you as much as he can.” Mallory spoke quickly, a slight smugness etched into her speech. “Cora doesn’t say much either...nothing good anyways. Quite honestly, Lillian, I had no idea of your name or that Cora’s mother was alive for the first few weeks of knowing them.” Mallory smiled, unable to stop her enjoyment of seeing Lillian face someone who wasn’t going to back down. “And I spent every day with them. Well...actually, I guess I have spent every day with them since I came to this time. Huh...” Lillian saw right through Mallory’s attempt at acting koi, but Mallory didn’t entirely care as she stuck her own verbal knife into the woman’s side.

“You think a tramp like you can wedge into our life and take away what we have?” Lillian hissed as she lashed out with her venom and anger. Mallory’s expression went blank, finding it hard to imagine Sam ever caring about something like her.

“It’s crazy to me to fathom how far you have dug your claws into that man for him to not see you for who you are.” Mallory absent-mindedly commented, obviously still trying to figure out this problem.

“Oh, and what is that? Who am I?” She barked, as she stood up, widening her stands to try to give herself an intimidating look.

“Heartless.” Mallory simply said, fully expecting, at this point, to get shot.

“Will you two, for the love of god, stop?” Sam’s voice boomed, from the other end of the room, begging them. “Otherwise, so help me, I will put myself in the airlock and send myself into space.” Lillian and Mallory glared at each other before Lillian started to walk away, muttering some nonsense about having to get ready to land. Sam just stood where he was, watching Lillian go with a twist of emotions before looking towards Mallory. He showed no emotion towards her, nothing.

If how he looked at her could be summed up into words, as Mallory felt Sam was trying to do, it would be ‘I thought I told you to stop’.

It felt heartbreaking to Mallory to see how he managed to keep defending that woman, and it made Mallory’s next decision easy for her—or so she convinced herself.

“And here I thought I would enjoy two women fighting over me...” Sam muttered as he walked out of the room and towards where Lillian went. Mallory was, unfortunately, too pissed off at the feeling of rejection and loss, to laugh at his sarcastic humour.

--x--

The last portion of the flight, specifically after Sam had yelled at the two women on the ship, was extremely tense.

The moment the words left his mouth, Sam regretted them.

But did Mallory really have to dig into the person who had just saved them? Maybe it wasn’t on her mind, but Sam couldn’t stop thinking about what would have happened if Lillian hadn’t shown up. Sam would have lost Mallory.

Cora would have lost her father.

The thought of leaving his daughter alone in this universe brought a deep amount of shame and guilt, filling his body as it normally did, seeping out from his head and down into his heart.

On top of that, he heard Lillian’s logical words in his head, how he couldn’t pursue someone like Mallory, someone who was meant to leave, and that it was highly hypocritical of him to be mad at Lillian for not being around when he was willing, and wanting, to engage with a woman who they knew wasn’t going to stay around.

Sure, Sam wanted her to stay and, thought he could convince her to do that or find a way to prove Mallory didn’t have to. Was that so wrong?

Well...Lillian thought so.

And she was right.

Who was he to prove such a thing? They didn’t even know what brought Mallory here in the first place! Those artifacts? Fat chance he will be the one to crack those.

No...Sam had to remind himself to stay in his lane. To put Cora first, above all, and make sure she had the small amount of stability he could provide her. That was the thought that circled in his head, consuming his ability to perceive the present moment, until he felt the ship land down and the hiss of the landing bay opening.

Immediately Sam stood up from his frozen position at the sudden thought and realization that Mallory would probably be looking to leave the ship as soon as possible. He practically ran to the other room before he heard Lillian call after him.

“Off to see our daughter in such a hurry? My, maybe you are the father you claim to be.” Sam’s expression bore nothing but fury as he stared at the spot Mallory had been in, the spot she most likely had vacated immediately, a spot she was now long gone from—especially because he knew Lillian would expect a response. “Cat caught your—”

“You are so spiteful.” Sam hissed at her, spinning around immediately to face down his ex-wife. Sam opened his mouth to spit more venomous words until he heard the voice of his sweet daughter.

“Dad?” His heart sunk at that tone. He knew his daughter well enough to understand she wasn’t greeting him but asking why they were returning on her mother’s ship...not theirs.

“Hey, gumdrop.” Sam greeted, forcing himself to wash away his other emotions. “I’m sorry if I worried you.”

“You didn’t, everyone said you and ‘Lee’ needed some time...” Sam saw Cora shoot a gaze at her mom with a smile before looking back at him. He couldn’t help but smile at how bright his daughter was and how she continued to surprise him every day. “But...where’s our ship?”

“Yeah...about that—”

“Your father was acting recklessly, darlin’. Your ship was unfortunate collateral.”

“Oh...” Sam’s heart tore at the sound before pulling out the photos and her fabled stamp of approval from his jacket.

“I managed to grab these for you...just in case.” Cora’s sadness faded as she began to smile brightly.

“You are the best dad ever!” Cora exclaimed, taking the items in a hurry and running past Sam to hug her mother. “Hi, Mom.” She said softly, Lillian hugging Cora but looking at Sam with the bitterness he had grown to know.

It was weird, when he thought about it, how different this meeting with her was. I mean, it was always tense and Lillian or Sam were bound to pop-off but he never felt this much distaste for her. He never felt on edge by her hugging Cora—he used to live for those moments.

He didn’t even have to think to know why he felt this way, he just found it strange that a single woman could change his perspective so quickly.

A woman that he knew he hurt, he knew he said things to her that he shouldn’t have, that directly conflicted with the truths he had told her last night. Sam sighed as he felt a headache come on, he had to try to figure out how to fix this with Mallory.

He needed to.

“Cora, we should—”

“Mom’s coming with us!” Cora exclaimed, cutting Sam off from trying to tell Cora they were to return to the lodge.

“Uh...coming where?” Sam felt his mind go blank as he stared at Lillian, her face cold as stone until he saw a twinge of a smirk.

“Y’all always talk so highly of Constellation...I figured I was overdue for a visit.” She said with a smile but Sam just felt his blood boil. Of course, she would tell this idea to Cora first instead of him. That way, if he had to put his foot down, he would be the bad guy stopping them from being together, not Lillian.

Cora bolted from the ship, yelling about all the places she was going to show her, all the people of Constellation she was going to meet. Sam just shot daggers at his ex as she slowly walked by, seeming and looking victorious.

--xx--

Mallory arrived at The Lodge in record time, managing to only get turned around once. Immediately she called out for Walter and Sarah, her voice uncharacteristically filling the entire place. With an almost panicked urgency, they both ran to the railings above the library. She looked at Walter first.

“We need to set plans for the interview to happen, I assume I can make the plan for execution and preparation and you can hire the men to do it?” Walter frowned in thought before giving a casual nod and shrugging.

“Might have to put it through a shell company...” He muttered to himself but Mallory didn’t hear him. She was already looking at Sarah.

“You need to go to Mars?” She asked her.

“Shouldn’t you be here for the—”

“Nope! Want to be as far from here as possible actually. Walter is a savvy businessman, he’s got this figured out.” Mallory walked out of the library and started to ascend the stairs, only briefly flashing a worried glance towards the door—Mallory gulping in a lungful of air to push down her overwhelming need to cry.

She needed to get out of this place, it was no longer safe—no longer a home.

That thought only brought a whip of pain as her mind, horribly, reminded herself of what Sam had promised her just the other night, as he had held her tightly against his chest: ‘...you will always have a home here. At the Lodge or...even here with Cora and I.’

Mallory felt her chest lurch forward at the pain it caused. To have opened up, to have hoped for a moment that she had found something that brought her happiness, peace...it was never something she allowed. But with him, she had felt—

It doesn’t matter. Mallory told herself, forcing her mind and feelings from spiralling out of control.

She rushed past Sarah and Walter, her forearm covering half of her face in a desperate attempt to hide her emotions and the tears that were pooling at the bottom of her eyes.

Because it was too late. Because it very well did matter.

It mattered a whole damn lot and Mallory fucking hated that it did.

She tore into herself in a quiet fury, saying no words, speaking no sounds, but if anyone were to look at her expression they would see a person wracked with pain, a person who had continuously been tortured by hope—always left to lose it.

One sob broke free from Mallory as she closed her bedroom door, her vision blurry, her shoulders sunken between shakes.

She stood there for a long while, long enough for her to lose the concept of the time that passed, as her mind went blank with pain and loss, her mind forcing her to relive every worst moment at once—the memories ripping a chasm of pain within her chest.

Mallory wanted to scream, to lash out at whatever was nearest, to make something feel as she did, in hopes that it would somehow help. But it was only silent tears that rolled down her cheeks—the same ones Sam had lovingly stroked. Mallory pressed her eyes together as her brain, cruel as always, forced her to remember the touch, the sensation and the feeling of acceptance that had come along with it.

The way he had looked at her, the way he had told her that he accepted her the way she was.

Why! She screamed to herself, her face scrunching in hopes that It would throw those memories away, but it only brought more loss...more pain. I have to get out of here. I have to get back, I just have to get back home. I can’t—a sob broke Mallory’s thoughts at the idea of leaving Sam, or Cora, but she had to.

She just...had to.

Finally feeling like she could collect herself, Mallory took a deep, shaken, breath and moved around her room to collect the few things she would want for a prolonged travel. Although she didn’t entirely have much...just the clothes she had bought with Sam.

The thought of him again brought back the flash of the last time she had been here, in this room, with him. Her mouth contorted and flinched as every time she wanted to smile at the memory, the enjoyment of it, it just made her want to cry. She tried to force her mind from that moment by realizing how her room had been cleaned since that incident.

However, she wished she had just kept her mind on the memory.

Laying on the bedside table closest to the door was Sam’s necklace, along with a handwritten note that Mallory automatically recognized the paper from one of Cora’s notebooks, with the scripture also being hers.

Every fibre of her body froze, her hand physically snatching to her chest as she felt her breath still. She told herself to run, to leave now, to not look but...it was Cora, and the kid hadn’t broken her heart—her Father did.

Reluctantly Mallory approached the note, her fingers trembling as she grabbed to note with one hand and absently grabbed the necklace with the other, the fossil resting in her palm. As she read the words that were written, Mallory pulled the necklace to her chest only to press it firmly against where it always hung. No matter how emotionally stable she had been, before this moment or even before entering the Lodge, she could have never been prepared to see what was written.

Mallory,

I found this in your room. I thought dad had lost it cause he does stuff like that. But it made me really happy to see he gave it to you cause he obviously cares a lot about you and I do too. It’s nice to see dad happy again, it’s been a long time since he has been. Just take care of him, okay?

And don’t tell him I wrote this. He’ll ground me for sure!!!!

Xoxo

Cora ‘Kiddo’ Coe

Tears immediately started blotting the ink and staining the paper, Mallory immediately pressed the letter against her chest as it began to tremble once again, bucking against her hands with every silent sob and rush of air shooting from her nostrils.

Once again she begged the question ‘why’ without having any answers.

But after reading that note, that small sliver of hope weaselled its way into her heart, breathing life into these words that Cora wrote, a small thought pressing forward in her mind that maybe she didn’t have to run.

Maybe when Sam got back to The Lodge he would explain, apologize and fix all of this. Because if Cora wrote this, and meant it, then how Sam felt of her was true—Cora knew her father best. There was no bigger form of hope.

Mallory felt a small smile crack through her bitterness, a lightness entering her body, her muscles relaxing and her pain ceasing. She placed the letter on the table and started to put the necklace around her neck when she heard the worst sound possible.

“Well, it ain’t actually half bad, Sam.” Lillian’s voice rang through the corridors, her volume loud and Mallory immediately knew, or at least assumed, that it was solely so she would hear her. That Mallory would know she was in this place, no doubt with Sam and Cora.

The bitterness and pain immediately returned as Mallory’s smile vanished into a thin, pursed, line. She tossed the necklace back onto the table in anger but immediately regretted it, hesitating to leave it—to leave the only memory she could have of them.

“Yeah...you can stay in my room for the night.” Mallory heard Sam say and she snapped.

--xx--

It had been enough for Sam that Lillian had held him back from the ship.

It had been enough for him when Lillian told Cora that she wanted to return to the Lodge to ‘see where they lived’.

But it was too much for him to see how happy it made Cora, as he immediately knew he was powerless to stop this without being the ‘reason’ for them to split up. But he couldn’t understand why Lillian was doing all of this.

She never cared about him and Cora, only passively or when it was convenient for her. There was nothing convenient about him calling her into a dogfight like that, there was absolutely nothing convenient about them having to fly back on her ship.

Seeing Cora skip further ahead and finally out of earshot gave Sam the chance to finally find out.

“What the hell this is all about?” Sam asked with a harsh whisper. Lillian just smiled while looking at Cora.

“What can I say, Sam...I’m having second thoughts.” That was...unexpected and took Sam back as he tried to decipher if she was being honest for once. Everything said she was. “Isn’t this what you always wanted? The three of us together? With both of us, Cora will be sure to be safe in space. We can—”

“Enough.” He harshly shut her down, her lie was good but...when she kept going on? Sam knew she was lying. He was sure her angle was Cora, trying to find a way to take her from him, using this last incident as the final reason he was too reckless to keep her.

But seeing how happily Cora skipped ahead of them, how she would turn back and smile brightly, giggle like she used to...damn. Sam couldn’t help but feel obliged to give his little girl even a slice of this.

Hell...maybe Lillian was being honest.

But then again, he didn’t want that. Not anymore.

God, he just needed to see Mallory. He needed to explain everything to her.

Sam felt his pace quicken as his focus was, once again, on Mallory—so much so that he didn’t see Lillian shoot a glance of daggers his way before keeping up with his pace.

Cora opened the door to The Lodge with a big ‘ta-da!’. Sam couldn’t help but smile at her when she acted more like the kid she is and less like the adult he was scared she was becoming too quickly. But that smile faded when Lillian wedged her way between Sam and the door—preventing him from entering.

Slowly she sauntered into the room, Cora excitedly rambling about all the small nooks within the place, but Sam just started walking up the stairs. Lillian suddenly hot on his heels.

“Well, it ain’t actually half bad, Sam.” She announced far too loudly, or maybe she was just already on his nerves. “Just give me a moment with your dad, sweetie.” She said to Cora, Sam feeling his eyes roll into the back of his head, growing impatient with Lillian constantly making plans for him.

“What?” He asked in a harsh whisper, snapping a guilty glance at Cora before forcing his posture to relax.

“I’ll need a place to rest my head after such an excursion. Figured you would know best.” She raised her eyebrows in the way she always did when she wanted something...specific from Sam. Something that he had, up until a few years ago, freely given her.

To think of how ‘hooked on Lillian’ he had been made him sick.

He didn’t want that anymore. Not for him, and not for Cora.

Sam just sighed, annoyed that he would have to think of another place to sleep for the night.

“Yeah...you can stay in my room for the night.” Sam’s voice was louder than anticipated due to his growing frustration. He just wanted to go see Mallory.

Hastefully, Sam showed Lillian to his room, almost pushing her into the door.

As he watched Lillian walk into his room, Sam was left wondering to himself what the hell he was doing, yet happy to finally get his ex off his back.

Sam turned with a smile, feeling elated that he could finally see the person he wanted to, only to see Mallory stop like a deer in headlights—his smile immediately falling flat.

Sam watched, stunned, as her body stiffened, her breath quickened, her eyes wide and shaking. He frowned as he could tell she had been crying...a lot. Sam felt his expression pinch with guilt as he knew he was the only person who caused that pain.

Stuck in his thoughts, Mallory broke free from her frozen frame to storm past him without looking at him or saying a word.

“Hey—” He tried to reach out to her but she just swerved her body to stay out of reach.

“Enjoy your night with Lillian.” Mallory spat, her words riddled with the pain and anguish he had caused her. He didn’t mean...or want to. What he wanted was to desperately make it right, but as he was stuck in this thought, this panic, he was also watching her walk away.

“Mallory…” Sam hesitated before quickly stomping after her. “Mallory, wait!” He called out, his mind catching up to what was happening in front of him.

No way was he about to lose her.

But when Mallory spun around to finally stare at him, it told him how foolish he was to think so.

“Good-BYE Sam.” Her words forced a distance between them, but the way she looked at him solidified it. “I hope this decision doesn’t blow up in your face. She is here for you. Not the kid. She doesn’t want to lose her grip on you and you are just…” Mallory trailed off, giving Sam a look of disdain before turning around and shaking her head as she walked away from him and out of the Lodge.

He felt his chest cave in, horrified that he had been so stupid, so blind.

That he had caused the woman he came to love, dearly and vulnerably loved, enough pain for her to snap like that.

Like he had with Lillian...

That thought brought a wave of pain and horror for him.

It didn’t help how horrible and lost Sam felt at that moment when Sarah sauntered from her room towards where Mallory went, staring at Sam with a great amount of confusion and concern.

He had really fucked up.

And he hated himself for it.

[03-shiro-25]

Jeon Jungkook | CHEATER!!! or not?... pt.2

Jeon Jungkook x gn reader

Synopsis: Because of rumors Jk believed that reader was cheating on him, they had a fight and reader left... he regretted everything... will he be able to make it up to them?

Warnings: angst, swearing

Note: Someone wanted a part two, so I hope you like it!

Part 1

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵❘༻༺❘‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵❘༻༺❘‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

"The rumors and picture were proofed to be fake"

After Namjoon informed Jungkook about this he relived the whole fight, from the moment you had entered the apartment, the way he screamed at you and how you left after you still told him you loved him, despite of how much he had hurt you. He could feel his heart break as it started to hurt incredibly bad.

Over and over he saw your confused and hurt expression in front of his eyes. Why didn't he just let you explain it all? Why didn't he listen to you?

Namjoon still didn't hung up on the younger boy. He heard his broken sobs which almost turned into screams. "Wait where you are Jungkook! I will come to you! We will solve all of this out. I promise!" he spoke before he ended the call. He was concerned for his youngest member. He had never heard him sound this broken.

Jungkook wasn't even listening to what his Hyung was saying. His thoughts were to loud. His body shaking. Thinking about what he should do now.

Suddenly Jungkook's crying stopped. 'I have to apologize to them.." he thought to himself while he weakly tried to stand up. Ignoring his aching head he opened the front door and ran out. Not even putting his shoes on or closing the door behind him. He looked around frantically, trying to find out where you went after you left.

He looked in every direction with his blurry sight due to the still remaining tears. He didn't see anything that could tell him where you went as he wiped his eyes, thinking about giving up for a moment. But he couldn't. He just couldn't. The whole situation was his fault after all. On top of that it was getting dark slowly and he still didn't know where you went. 'Shit..' a new tear escaped his eye but he wiped it away, willing to search the whole night for you.

He needed to see you, to hold you. To tell you how sorry he was. Determined to find you he just ran off into any direction and started to look for you. The small stones on the street slightly drilled into his freezing feet. The cold wind brushing through his messy hair. But he couldn't care less. When he thought about the pain that you must be going through then he was more than willing to endure all that, for you.

As he ran non-stop through the by now almost completely empty streets, looking in every shop and ally to see if you were there he grew more and more scared. Where could you have gone? He was stressed. What if you were hurt? Or lost? Or worse..

He felt tears form in his eyes again as his phone in his pocket started to vibrate again. 'Y/n?..' he hoped that it was you more than anything. But to his disappointment it wasn't you. 'Of course not you idiot, why would they call you after what you did..' he scolded himself. It was in fact Namjoon-Hyung who was calling him. His legs gave out under him from exhausten and hopelessness. He fell onto his knees. The small stones now drilling into them too.

He stared at his phone for a second. Feeling lost as he registered again that you weren't the caller but he accepted the call and held the phone to his ear nonetheless.

"Jungkook?! Where are you? I told you to wait for me! And why is your front door open?!" he heard his Hyung speak concerned and also stressed.

"Hyung..." the fear and stress just got to much for Jungkook. He was exhausted and tired. He was to weak to keep his tears from spilling anymore. His hands were shaking. He searched EVERYWHERE. But you were gone... He didn't even care if you would hate him for the rest of your life. He just wanted to know if you were ok. THAT you were ok. You had to be...

His breathing grew heavy as he stared at his now slightly bleeding knees.

"Jungkook, calm down and tell me where you are so I can come and get you."

"But I have to find them Namjoon..."

Namjoon didn't care that Jungkook didn't call him Hyung. He knew this boy was broken right now.

"Listen to me Jungkook. Suga-Hyung called me a few minutes ago. Y/n is ok and save. They went to him to talk about what happened. So please just tell me where you are right now."

As Jungkook heard that you were ok he was so relieved that even more salty tears ran down his face. After he sent Namjoon his location since he didn't know where he was he came to get him and took him to Suga's place.

"Now calm down so that you can apologize to them properly." Namjoon spoke after they arrived in front of Suga's door. He wiped the younger's tears away and gave him an encouraging smile. He gave a weak smile back before talking a deep breath and knocked on the door.

What should he say to you? Would you even listen to him? Would you forgive him? Would you break up with him?...

As soon as he heard Suga open the door it all seemed to happen so fast. He didn't even register what was happening as you came running towards him. He didn't know what was going on but you wrapped your arms around him, wrapping him in an bone-crushing hug. Pulling him against your body and stroking his hair with one of your hands.

"BABY! I was so worried about you! After Namjoon called me and told me that you were not in your apartment and the front door was open I was so fucking scared that something had happened after I left! You can't scare me like that! You hear me?" he felt his shoulder grew slightly wet as your tears fell onto his shirt.

To say he was shocked by your actions would be an understatement. You were scared for him. Why? After what he did...

Carefully he wrapped his arms around you too. Relieved to feel you in his arms again.

"Aren't you angry at me?.." he whispered as he was scared of the answer. Even though he knew that he would deserve your anger.

"No..baby.. I forgave you the moment you became angry at me back in your apartment. I was scared and confused... But I love you so much.. I just can't really get angry at you"

Suga and Namjoon watched smiling as you two hugged for a long time. Neither wanting to let go of the other.

"Promise me you will stop believing everything you see on the internet..." you spoke tiredly.

"I promise..."

"Baby?! Your knees are bleeding!!" after you pulled away you took a second to look at your boyfriend, only realizing his hurt knees now.

"Oh, it's nothing, don't wor-" before he could finish you pulled him inside of Suga's apartment, leaving him in the living room to go grab a wet cloth and some ointment. As you returned and he saw what you held in your hands he fell onto his aching knees, bowing down in front of you.

"Please forgive me for screaming at you. I was just so scared that I would leave you to someone else. I was so confused... I never meant to scream. And I promise I never will again." not once he looked up at you.

You just smiled and pulled him onto his feet so you could clean the wounds on his knees. "Don't worry Jungkook. I love you."

[mxbbadperson]

kamen rider geats: this feeling, so hard to explain

fandom: kamen rider geats ship: michinaga/ace notes: age difference, angst! notes 2: very rough! notes 3: michinaga’s emotional constipation: 100

People's voices were around him as Michinag gripped the champagne glass tightly. It was a Friday and he didn't want to be here. He was in a party. In one of Ukiyo's houses. Kurama's money better be worth it. He had dressed up, brought a dark violet jacket and put on ring earrings, even half-tied his hair back. All so Kurama and Sakurai can steal something.

He walked through the crowd, eyes searching. He didn't want to see him, didn't want to talk to him. But he had to if he wanted to be paid tonight. He didn't have to look far. Michinaga stopped walked. In front of him talking to someone in black and wearing a weird hat was Ukiyo Ace.  

Ukiyo Ace the actor he'd seen in a cheesy action movie when he was fifteen. In his vibrant red blazer over his turtleneck, an outfit he had seen many times before. He had seen it seven months ago. Michinaga looked at him for a moment. Ukiyo was right there.

He drank the rest of the champagne, throwing his head back. He started walking. Ukiyo was faced away from him and talking to someone. Michinaga didn't care. 'Hey,' he said loudly. The conversation stopped.

'Excuse me,' Ace said, 'I'll talk to you later?' And it shouldn't be a relief to Michinaga to hear his voice again. A moment later, Ace turned to him. 'Hello,' he greeted with a smile.

Michinaga stared. Fourty-six and with that gray in his hair, a streak over the side of his face. He was eye-catching and so beautiful. But he shouldn't be distracted. 'We're going somewhere else,' he demanded. He grabbed Ace's elbow then started walking.

Ace looked at him curiously and followed. What would Azuma-san say this time? They walked through the crowd. Ace was aware of eyes on them. Would this be news tomorrow? They walked out of the crowd and kept walking. 'I didn't know you'd be here tonight, if I did I would have invited you.'

'I would have said no,' Michinaga answered simply.

'I know. You always look handsome but you look even more handsome today.' Michinaga's grip tightened around Ace's elbow. 'Did you do that for me?' Ace asked.

They stopped in a different room, Michinaga kicking the door closed behind him. He turned around. He looked up at Ace. 'I didn't,' he said annoyed.

'So why are you here if you aren't here for me?'Ace asked.

Michinaga scowled, so he'd been caught. 'Why did you stop calling?' he demanded. It was obvious that he was avoiding it but he didn't care.

'Is this the part of where you ask me questions but I don't get to ask you questions?' Ace asked mildly.

Michinaga didn't hestitate. 'Yes.'

'Then I won't answer,' Ace answered, Michinaga's scowl deepened, 'I don't have to. And if you want me to answer, you know what to do.'

Michinaga's hand flexed. He dragged Ace closer. He looked into Ace's eyes. 'You're going to get engaged.' It shouldn't have stunned him, it shouldn't have stopped him in his tracks when he should have been working. And it shouldn't have hurt as much as it did.

'And what about it?' Ace asked lightly, 'why would it bother you?'

Michinaga gritted his teeth. He dug his fingers into Ace's elbow. 'Kurama hired me. She wanted me to distract you.'

For what? Was Sakurai-san here too then? Ace raised his eyebrows slightly. 'And how will you do that?'

Michinaga reached into his pocket. He brought out a grip of a sword. It lengthened. The tooth of the chainsaw glittered under the light. Ace looked at it. 'I thought you were going to kiss me,' he mused.

Michinaga faltered. 'Why would I!' he managed to say. He dragged Ace even closer.

'It's too bad that isn't the floor for dancing,' Ace smiled, 'but I'm sure we can turn into one.' Ace kicked Michinaga's shin. Michinaga hissed, hand reflexively releasing Ace's elbow. Ace stepped back.

Michinaga glared at him. He swung his sword. Ace dodged. Michinaga kept swinging but Ace kept dodging. Ace lowered himself, bending his knees slightly. Michinaga's eyes widened. He cursed himself.

Ace lunged. He tackled Michinaga. Michinaga hit the floor, breath rushing out of him. Ace straddled him, grabbing his arm. He pinned it on the floor. 'Is Sakura-san here too?' Michinaga glared at him. Then that was a maybe. 'How much is Neon-san going to pay you?' Michinaga tried to lift his arm off the floor. 'I'll pay you more,' Ace said.

Michinaga stopped. 'Why would you do that?'

'You deserve to be paid. Even if you are doing your job badly.' Michaga glared up at Ace again. 'I know why you're here and I know you might not paid at all.'

'Kurama's going to cheat me?!' Michinaga barked.

'It isn't her fault,' Ace said. Whatever Neon-san would pay him was her parents' money. Michinaga looked at him. Ukiyo was always quick to come to Kurama's defense wasn't he? 'Do you know why she hired you?'

'No,' Michinaga thought about it, 'but you already know why don't you?'

'Maybe,' Ace said cheefully. He released Michinaga's arm then leaned back. Michinagas's breath hitched. Ukiyo was sitting on his lap. His other hand came up to curl around Ace's hips. He remembered this, had dreamed of this. Ukiyo riding him. But the moment only lasted for a minute. Ace got off him, sitting down on the floor.

Michinaga stared at his profile. 'Are you really going to marry him?' he finally managed to ask. He had seen the man, had searched him up. Thirty, goodlooking in his suit and rich.

Why was Azuma-san asking him this? 'Maybe.'

'Do you want to marry him?' Michinaga demanded. It was stupid to be so hurt. Why did he care so much about a movie star he shouldn't have ever met in the first place?

Why did Azuma-san want to know? 'Yes.'

Michinaga gritted his teeth. 'So you love him?'

'No.' Why did he need to love someone to marry them? Ace understood why, even wanted that, but was it so bad to marry someone even if he didn't love them?

'That's just it then? You're marrying him for money?' Michinaga demanded.

Ace turned to look down at Michinaga. 'What's wrong with that?' he asked. He was used to being practical. 'I'll marry for love if there's someone who can love me,' he said honestly. Michinaga and Ace stared at each other. Michinaga turned away, grip tightening around his sword. His heart was loud in his ears and there was a lump in his throat.

Ace's expression softened. 'I'm going to see Neon-san and Sakurai-san now.' He got to his feet.

Michinaga frowned confused. 'How did you know that he's here too?'

Just now. 'I just do,' Ace said. Michinaga got off the floor and followed. He looked around the house. This one was one he didn't see before. Warm colors and there were pictures and furniture that Michinaga knew without a doubt were expensive. But it looked clean, looked that it wasn't lived in. He knew Ukiyo's mess well too.

They went up the stairs and stopped in a room. There were statues and chairs around the room and art on the walls. It was a viewing room. Michinaga frowned in confusion. Kurama and Sakurai were here. They were standing in front of a stand, looking at a statue. 'Hello, Neon-san and Sakurai-san,' Ace called out.

They jumped then whirled around. 'Ace!' Neon blurted out.

'Are you two enjoying the party?'

'It was nice! It was nice,' Keiwa sad awkwardly.

'That's good, I want to throw nice parties.' Ace went to an armchair, Michinaga following. Ace sat down but Michinaga didn't. He stood beside Ace. 'Why are you here?'

Neon and Keiwa looked at him in suspicion. They knew the tone Ace was using. 'I thought Michinaga-san was going to distract you?'

'Why would he distract him for?' Ace crossed his legs, 'how did you think he was going to distract me?'

'Fighting you,' Keiwa said.

'Making out with you,' Neon said at the same time. Michinaga flushed. He glared at her.

Keiwa paused. He thought about it. He nodded. 'That too.' Michinaga turned his glare at him.

'He's bad at his job,' Ace said.

'Shut up,' Michinaga said annoyed.  

Ace laid his interlaced fingers on his leg. 'Did Girori hire you?'

'Did Hareruya tell you?' Michinaga asked.

'He didn't. I know that both of you won't steal from me,' Ace said simply. Neon and Keiwa's expressions turned to guilt.

'He did,' Neon admitted.

'And he promised to pay you,' Ace stated. Keiwa nodded. 'I'll pay you instead.' Keiwa looked confused. 'Girori will find out that you and Neon-san were found out and will try not pay you,' Ace explained. He knew Girori's particular habit well.

Neon stared at Ace with a frown. Her eyes widened a moment later. 'Did you hold this party to draw us out?!' Keiwa and Michinaga looked at Ace stunned.

Ace looked at her. 'Maybe.' He didn't. It was a party for a frien, a congratulations for his new book. He nodded at the statue. 'You can have it.'

'We can?' Keiwa asked baffled.

'You're here to get it so you should have it.'

'And your're saying that because you can buy another one,' Michinaga muttered. He looked at Neon. 'Why do you need Girori's money for?'

Neon frowned, the line of her mouth sad. 'Azuma-san, let it go,' Ace said. Neon's expression turned to relief. Michinaga clicked his tongue. Ace stood up. He went to the stand.

He took out the statue then held it out. Keiwa took it carefully. 'You're really giving this to us?'

'Why not?' Ace said. Neon came to stand beside him. He looked at her curious.

'Is it true you're getting engaged?' Neon asked slowly.

'I am. We'll announce it when we do.'

Neon frowned. 'Do you love him?'

'No.'

Keiwa frowned. A question had come to him. 'Does he love you?' Michinaga scowled.

'No. But he does care.' Ace turned slightly. He nodded at a painting. Neon, Keiwa and Michinaga followed his gaze. It was a small painting. 'He brought me that.'

'To buy your affection?' Neon asked suspiciously.

'Maybe. He said that he brought it because he saw me looking at it.'

'It's that easy?' Michinaga asked tense.

'He cares for me,' Ace stated. Michinaga scowled.

'Is that enough?' Keiwa asked.

'It is to me,' Ace said softly.

'But why not marry someone you love?' Neon asked, pain and sadness in her voice.

'I could. But that means I have to be in love. And that they love me.' Ace stepped back. 'I'll go prepare the money.' He walked away. Michinaga followed. Ace went to his office. He didn't have to go far, it was across the hall.

He opened his desk. Michinag stopped beside him. Ace turned around. 'Azuma-san.'

Michinaga stepped closer. 'Why even marry him? You don't love him!' he said angrily.

'That doesn't matter.' Ace liked the man enough. He took envelopes out of the drawer then closed it. He turned to the cabinet.

'He doesn't love you!' And there was something in Michinaga's voice.

Ace glanced at him. Azuma-san looked upset. 'He cares.'

'And that's enough now?' Michinaga demanded.

'It is.' Ace took out stacks of bills. There would be a mix of different values in the envelopes. Michinaga grabbed Ace's wrist. Ace stopped. He looked up at Michinaga. 'Let go, Azuma-san.' And what did he mean by that? His arm or something else?

'That's enough now?' Michinaga repeated.

'I want someone to care for me,' Ace explained, he looked into Michinaga's eyes, 'he doesn't make me feel lonely,' he said softly. Michinaga's expression shuttered. He released Ace's wrist. He stepped back. Ace went back to work.

Michinaga watched him. He knew what Ukiyo meant. Ukiyo had called, called more than ten times. Ukiyo who was beautiful with his soft edges and his loneliness. His clothes was still in his apartment and so were his pots and pans. The foods he cooked and the sun coming down on him through the window. With his teas and his ice cream and sweets. The way he smiled, the lone dimple appearing and the edges of his eyes crinkling. And here Ukiyo was, giving him money.

Something appeared in the edge of his vision. Michinaga blinked. It was a bag. He looked at Ace's face as he took it. So the envelope was in it. Ace held his other hand out. There was another thing. It was a small box, a ribbon on it. 'Happy birthday,' Ace said softly. There was a lump on Michinaga's throat. Ukiyo even called for his twenty-second birthday. Michinaga took it. He put a finger on the ribbon. But he had ignored each one. It was until two months that Ukiyo stopped calling.

'He doesn't love you,' Michinaga whispered. He lifted his eyes from the gift. He met Ace's eyes. 'He doesn't love you,' Michinaga repeated, pain on his face.

Ace looked at him. 'Then who does?' he asked. Michinaga quickly stepped forward. He opened his mouth. He closed it. He gritted his teeth, why can't he say it! 'If you can't say it then don't,' Ace said, 'let's go  back to Neon-san and Sakurai-san.' Michinaga wasn't listening. He leaned forward.

He stopped. Ace had put a hand on Michinaga's chest. 'I can't,' he said, breath over Michinaga's lips. 'even if I don't love him, I won't do this to to him.' Michinaga gritted his teeth. He stepped back. 'Let's go back to Neon-san and Sakurai-san,' Ace said again. He turned away then started walking.

Michinaga stared at his back. And letting him go. Even after everything. It shouldn't have hurt as much as it did. Ukiyo refusing him, Ukiyo letting him go. Even after everything. Maybe it hurt because of everything. He followed.

Ace held out bags to Neon and Keiwa. They took them. 'Seven hundred each.'

Keiwa's eyes widened, mouth dropping open while Neon's eyes shone. 'Thank you,' she said.

Ace smiled. He laid a hand on her shoulder. 'Take care, Neon-san,' he said softly.

Neon nodded jerkily. 'I will.'

'If you need a help, I'll be here.'

'I'll call!' Neon promised.

'Are you two saying?'

'I am,' Neon looked up at Keiwa, 'are you?'

Keiwa thought about it. 'I kinda want to,' he mumbled. Neon's face brightened. Keiwa smiled.

'And how will you go home?' Ace asked. Neon and Keiwa looked at him.  'I'll ask my chauffeur to drive you home.'

'You don't have to!' Keiwa said quickly.

'I should. You can't take a taxi,' Ace pointed out. Even though now they could, they have more than enough money for it now. 'Then I'll go back to the party, have fun.' Ace went back to the party, Michinaga's eyes on his back.

Michinaga flopped down on the bed and the bag landed next to him. He was tired and felt wrung out. He took the birthday gift out. He looked at it for a moment then opened it. Michinaga swallowed. It was the watch that he wanted but didn't buy. He pressed it against his forehead.

And did he change into Ukiyo's shirt? And wasn't he lying in the sheet and duvet that Ukiyo bought? His chest ached. He put the watch away. Michinaga took out his phone. He dropped it. What a stupid thought. He closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep.

Michinaga went back to his life. Sleep and work and looking up at billboards and huge screens with Ukiyo's face. Back to standing in front of a conbini's magazine section and thinking about a magazine with Ukiyo in it. He didn't, walking away.

Two months passed in almost mindnumbing nothingness. Until he heard the news, overhearing from his co-workers. Ukiyo had broken up with his boyfriend. Michinaga went to the toilets to check the news. He stared down at his phone. He gripped it tighter then pressed it against his forehead.

The watch glittered around his wrist. There was relief and it felt so big, he was shaking from it. He lowered the phone. There was a lump in his throat. He typed in a number. He didn't need to type slowly. He clicked the call button then pressed it against ear.

*'Hello,' Ace called out.

Michinaga swallowed the lump in his throat. 'Ukiyo,' he said weakly.

'Azuma-san. What can I do for you?' Ukiyo with his distance in being polite.

'Are you doing something this weekend,' Michinaga said in a rush. He had to try.

'No, why?'

'Go out with me,' Michinaga said softly. Maybe he could try again. There was silence from Ace. It hurt but Michinaga understood why.

'Alright,' Ace answered.

Michinaga breathed in sharply. His shoulders relaxed. 'Meet me at the cafe,' he said the cafe's name and address, 'meet me there.'

'I will,' Ace answered. Michinaga nodded stiffly. Maybe he can have a chance and maybe he won't throw it away. 'See you there,' Ace said.

'See you there,' Michinaga promised. Maybe he can have a chance and maybe he won't throw it away.

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐍 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝑫𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝑳𝒆𝒕 𝑴𝒆 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒀𝒐𝒖

╰┈➤ ❝ kieran x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : pwp (with plot), (but like. there’s a lot of smut), angst, yearning, friends with benefits, forbidden love, secret love, hints of betrayal, teasing, heavy petting, clit play, oral (f. rec), fingering, handjob, dirty talk, praise, closet sex, vaginal sex (unprotected), creampie, multiple orgasms and slight overstimulation, mentions of masturbation (f), use of pet names “miss hunter” “pretty” “angel". lmk if i missed any tags! ((unedited!))

wc : 7.7k (. whoops)

an : "whoah roxie’s using 'angel' for someone other than xavier?!" LISTEN. IF IT FITS IT SITS!! also this one's kieran-centered because i found his character fun to pick apart for the concept, and if you want to get a stronger feel of that, i'd say read up the english lyrics to DLMLU <3

taglist : @darlingdummycassandra @milkandstarlight @thoupenguinman @valvinny @rafayelsheart @hunters-association (SIGN UP HERE)

AO3 LINK 🔗

It wasn’t supposed to end up like this. None of it was. But how far can the chains of loyalty and devotion really take someone… before they finally break?

This was not in the plan.

Your breath stuttered, hands gripping the silken sheets below you.

Sylus would be back soon.

Your body jolted at the touch of his fingers over the plush of your thigh—

The two of you were not supposed to be doing this.

Your heartbeat quickened at the thought, a whine falling from your lips, yet the head between your legs remained unhurried in his ministrations. His hands pressed down against your hips to keep you from moving, insistent on taking his time, allowing his mouth to place wet, open-mouthed kisses around the clothing still covering your clit. The contact was there, but it was barely enough.

You squirmed in his grasp.

"Kieran...!"

His only response was a low chuckle, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. You could really only let out another whimper; what else could you do? So easily would he have you at his mercy, his touch and his attention having become something that you craved.

"Kieran, please..." You tried, with no avail, to buck your hips up into him. His grip on you was stronger than you'd anticipated—unrelenting in the pressure, and enough for him to let out a scoff.

"Hey, easy, pretty," he mumbled. You could hear in his voice the mocking roll of his eyes. "As nice as it is hearing you beg... You really need to stay still."

Merciless, for certain.

You didn't know what else you should have expected from him.

Your fingers tightened their grip on the sheets as his tongue poked out against the crotch of your panties, leaving short, kitten licks that only made the damp spot on the fabric grow larger—

And you wished you could see him.

His mask, placed slanted over his head, covered enough to keep you in the dark. You could see tufts of his hair peeking out from behind it... but you couldn't see his eyes. He would never let you see them. Not like this. Not when it was never supposed to be like this.

The limit imposed was always a reminder of that.

"Kieran..." you reached over to lay a hand atop of his, the only workaround you could find. And you felt his movements pause at the contact. By now, your underwear was thoroughly soaked through, the fabric clinging to your folds enough to outline the shape of your cunt. "Kieran, why won't you just take it off...!"

You felt him smile.

He didn't answer; it wasn't as if you particularly expected him to. Instead, he settled for pressing his tongue flat against your entrance, slowly licking up a long stripe that lingered over your clit, parting your folds more obviously for him—and he did it again.

The thin fabric dipped slightly into your hole, only barely serving as any more of a barrier from the friction and heat of his tongue. Your hips struggled against his hold, thighs trembling over his shoulders—"W-wha—anh—! Kieran—!"

You felt his nails dig slightly into your skin almost as a warning, and the slight sting of pain had your moan clamping down into a sharp hiss.

"Why, huh?" he mumbled against you, and you could hear the laugh in his voice. He brought his teeth over to graze over your clit, the sensation making you shiver and gasp. "Mmm... 'Cause I like it this way."

He spoke as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. As if you'd been stupid for asking such a question, as if he were reiterating the power he had over your body in this moment... Because he did. You could only submit to his ministrations as he took your clit lightly between his lips, only to let it go and do it again.

And again.

And then the slow movements became quicker, gliding his tongue up and down the sticky mess seeping through your panties, lapping at your slit as if to coax out more.

You could barely take it.

Your head threw back as his name fell from your lips in a litany—a breathless chant of "Kieran, Kieran, Kieran!" that had him grinning against you. You could feel it, the sheer delight with which his tongue moved against you. And despite his own words, it didn't take long before he finally pushed your panties to the side, savoring the trail of slick that connected the fabric back to you, and reveling in the sight of your wetness.

You panted desperately at the exposure—waiting; anticipating. Though you couldn't see him, you were nearly certain of the way he would lick his lips in approval of you.

And then—

"Shi—shit!" You cried out when he finally, finally buried himself into you, the direct contact of his tongue against your walls making your head spin.

"Mmmm. S'good."

It was a muffled moan you could barely register, but the vibrations against you had your body jolting. And as if to grant you a moment of reprieve, his hands slid down from your hips to push your thighs further apart.

"Ki- Kier—iera—n—! Kieran—!" Broken moans of his name left your lips in desperate cries, finally able to arch your back into him, lifting your hips to grind against his mouth.

"Mhm? 'Most there, hm?"

Your eyes glazed over as your mouth fell open, feeling him knead at your thighs in encouragement. He didn't stop. His tongue kept working you, dipping into your hole to have lewd, sticky noises resound in the bedroom.

"Close... close, Kieran, m'gonna...!"

You could hear a proud grin from him, as he pulled away from you and whispered a low command:"Yeah, cum for me, angel."

It was enough.

Your head fell back, a wave of pleasure tearing through your body as your thighs tensed around him. His hand moved to rub gentle circles over your clit to ease you through your orgasm, whispering soothing phrases into the plush of your thigh.

Your chest heaved, eyes drawing up to the ceiling in an attempt to ground yourself.

"Holy shit," you breathed. And it was all the words you could really bring yourself to say.

Your vision felt too hazy to process. You didn't look as Kieran got up to adjust himself, leaving your side momentarily before running a damp cloth through your folds to clean you up. He was always nice enough, gentle enough, to be thorough with your aftercare. The faint sensation of your undergarments being changed didn't feel unfamiliar to you anymore. Not with him. It was enough for you to get your breathing evened out again, and only when you felt the mattress shift beside you did you turn—

A warm hand was placed over your eyes.

Soft, almost coaxing.

And you knew the voice that spoke.

"Don't look yet," he mumbled.

It was a softer tone than he had used with you earlier. It was a softer tone than what he would use with you, in general. A hint of desperation, a masked sort of regret laced into it...

But almost barely there.

In truth, you couldn't have known if you were deluding yourself into it or not. As much as you were inclined to believe that there was more behind the way he said those words, more behind the gentle kiss that was placed upon your lips—you knew that it was likely not the case.

It couldn't be the case.

In the same way all of this was never supposed to happen in the first place.

"Just let me stay here for a second..."

He sighed against you, trailing fluttering kisses over your jaw, placing another against your lips. There was a silence, only the rise and fall of your chests moving nearly in sync, the faint ticking of the clock on the wall a reminder of the time that ran forward. Because no matter how time seemed to slow down for you in his arms like this, you knew that reality would prove otherwise.

A fickle illusion, just as all of this had become.

He pulled back.

You knew, and he knew, more than anyone, that the leisure of time was not available to you. And once the hand uncovered your eyes and you adjusted to the light, his mask was back on, his fingers reaching to pull his hood back over his head.

He looked at you.

You could have been imagining things, but you could have sworn that he was smiling. You'd seen his face before. All things considered, you could picture the way he looked at you—no more than a figment of your imagination seeing how adamant he was never to show himself to you like this, but it was the only solace that you had.

"Boss's back," he tilted his head, "got a message from Luke, soooo... M'gonna go. He might want something."

You sat up quietly, drawing your knees up to your chest. You couldn't help but pout.

"Kieran..."

He shook his head.

It was enough for you to swallow your words.

The empty feeling in your chest continued to thrum—unspoken words solidified the limit he'd insistently put between you. It always ended this way. You'd be fool to think otherwise.

So instead of speaking, instead of saying unnecessary things that you didn't have to put out there, your eyes fell towards his hand as he reached over to give yours one last squeeze.

"Seeya later, Miss Hunter."

—❀

Kieran was cruel.

You were never sure what the nature of your relationship truly was, never sure of the feelings that swelled in your chest everytime he so much as looked your way. You couldn't even recall how things turned out like this at all, only that a single moment alone with him had thrown you into this spiral that you couldn't get out of.

... But he was so nice to you.

His presence had become a comfort—as much of it as you could find in this god-forsaken place they'd made a home of. The N109 zone wasn't your favorite place; it was far from that. And yet, everytime you found find yourself going back, you owed as much to the twins to have yourself stay.

You owed it to him.

And it hadn't always been that way.

You always thought that if there would be one of them you'd grow more attached to, it would be Luke—Luke was always much sweeter with his words. He was quick to notice any discomfort, quick to offer words of reassurance that—on the surface—could easily have been dismissed, but they meant something to you. It was easy to relax around him. You knew that regardless of the situation that you found yourself in now, Luke had already become a friend that you treasured.

But Kieran was different.

Kieran was more... quiet, more subtle.

Equally as infuriating at his brother when they'd put their heads together just to get on your nerves, but—calmer. More bearable, in a sense.

And even if his words tended to be harsher in comparison, he was gentler in the way that he treated you. Especially when Sylus was absent. Because he did tend to speak less than his brother, seemingly content to let him do most of the talking, but his actions spoke volumes. He would help you with things—offers he would follow through with. The whole debacle with the brooch was an entirely different matter considering their intentions, but it the first that you'd felt a little appreciated on his part nonetheless.

Now, you knew, that whether it was as silly as getting things off of the shelf for you, or as bold as helping you sneak into Sylus' bedroom to borrow Mephisto for the day, he could help you. Because he would do things—rather than say things. And silence from him became less daunting; more welcomed, when you realized that he acted outside of it.

He'd swing the windows open whenever possible—because he knew that you hated feeling trapped in their base, despite multiple words of reassurance from Luke that you weren't.

He'd throw an orange at your head so you didn't have to peel one yourself—he'd seen you struggle once, taunted you to take the matter to the chef, but never seemed to offer you an unpeeled one ever since.

And he was quick to draw the lines where they needed to be drawn. Keen to notice when his brother had crossed it, bold enough to chastise him for it and offer you a moment of solace.

Most of all... the calmer tone in his voice, harshness aside, made it easy to fall under his spell.

Because that was what you would call it.

A spell.

He could get you to fall into his arms with such ease, but you were never quite sure if he would be there to catch you. It was always just enough to keep you guessing, always just enough to hold you close... Yet he would simultaneously keep you at a distance that nearly had you questioning if any of his behavior ever meant anything.

As if he were toying with you.

Your mind flitted back to the first time you'd gotten intimate, and it was he who had breached that boundary first, yet also he who'd kept the offer just out of your reach.

It was torturous. He was cruel.

Yet you had scarcely the courage to ask him about it.

—❀

"Arguably, it's a lot quieter around here without Luke around."

It was a rare occasion to see the twins separated, but that night seemed to be as such. You recognized the figure in front of you with ease.

"Where's your brother?"

The first question you asked had him letting out a laugh, absentmindedly tossing a coin into the air and catching it back into his palm. He didn't get up from his seat on the couch, but he turned to you. The earring on his hood made a soft tinkling noise as he did so.

"Out on an errand. You know. Boss's orders..."

You noticed him regard you for a moment, a contemplative silence you'd become familiar with from him, before he stood up.

It had been your instinct to immediately take a step back.

But that didn't phase him.

It never truly did.

He was a little less difficult to shake up than his brother, especially when he was alone. Unfortunately for you, as you watched him close the distance between the two of you a little bit more— this was such a case.

"The boss told me to watch over you, you know. You're here to see him, right? So... I guess you could say I've been expecting you."

It was your turn to look him over, folding your arms over your chest, and whether because of their influence—just as much as Sylus'—or not, you were pushed, a little bit, to be bolder. So with a smile, you decided to play coy."Kieran, are you trying to intimidate me? Is that something Sylus would approve of?"

It gave you an inkling of satisfaction to have him pause in thought, because there was one thing you'd noticed about him—

He was obedient.

Careful.

Dare you say it; a lot more calculating than whatever impulsive decisions Luke was more prone to making.

"Hmm... No, maybe you're right."

He replied smoothly, but it seemed almost too easy. A pause ensued. Neither of you moved. It was a while before you realized that he wasn't quite... finished.

"Boss isn't here, though."

These were words you didn't think you'd ever hear from his own mouth.

"Huh? Yeah, but... You..."

You could have sworn he was grinning under that mask of his, and the sharp laugh that fell from his lips was as close to seeing it as you could get. You were almost certain you were in for something—until you weren't. He plopped back onto the couch with ease, and you let out a sigh of relief. You would gladly grab the slightest bit of mercy he would show you.

"Wasn't trying to intimidate you, Miss Hunter," he waved it away. "Anyway, like I said. The boss isn't back yet. So... Whatever business you have with him's gotta wait."

"...Yeah." Your shoulders relaxed. Kieran would rarely ever do anything against Sylus' orders. This wasn't one of those times. "Right. Of course. I'll just, uh... I wanted to look through the books..."

You cleared your throat, and your gaze moved from the figure in front of you to the shelves that lined one side of the room. You, yourself, let out a contemplating hum.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Kieran lift his head again.

It couldn't hurt to ask.

"Kieran, could you—"

"Nope."

His answer made you blink.

When you turned to him, he had stopped fussing with the coin.

"You ask me every other week or so. Come on. You can learn to do it yourself too, right?"

"...But you're right here."

"I'm sitting."

"You could—"

He shook his head, turning towards the shelves and away from you. It worked well to cut you off, and you had concluded to abandon your hope of convincing him—it was much more difficult with Kieran.

But he added,"Which one this time?"

Your eyes lit up, and you walked over to one of the shelves, pointedly raising a hand. "That one up there! Feel like I haven't seen that anywhere in Linkon. You guys sure have a lot of—"

Your eyes widened.

His hands slotted themselves easily on your waist, but you had barely a second to process the heat of his body so close to you before he hoisted you in the air.

Your breath hitched. This was a first. You didn't know Kieran to be the touchy one—that was Luke. Yet his grip on your waist was firm, nearly reminiscent of the way Sylus would hold you, and for a moment you couldn't quite do anything but look back and stare at him.

He let out a scoff.

"Why're you looking at me? I said I wouldn't get it for you, but I didn't say I wouldn't help."

It took a while before you could turn away from him and back to the shelf, and you cleared your throat. "Um... A little to the left, then. I can't reach it from here."

"...Seriously?"

He grumbled a complaint, yet did as you said, anyway. You reached a little further to grab the book, and—

Perhaps, seeing you struggle still made him shift to bring you closer to it, but the movement caught you off-guard enough to wobble slightly in his hold. His grip adjusted to keep you steady, the pads of his fingertips riding slightly up under your shirt, brushing against your skin. "Whoah, there," he clicked his tongue. "Easy, pretty. I'm sure you can handle heights just fine, so relax. It's just a bookshelf."

The contact, combined with his casual use of a nickname you had never heard from him before, had you reeling. And though the book was then grasped safely in your hands, you couldn't help but be hyperaware of the thrumming heartbeat in your chest as he slowly let you down.

"There we go. Not so hard, huh?"

You nearly jumped at the proximity of his voice. The coolness of his mask pressed against your cheek slightly; he could have well been whispering in your ear, his thumb having moved to rub gentle circles into your skin.

This was unnecessary.

You knew that it was.

And yet, something about it made you want to lean into it a little bit more.

His voice was so nice to listen to. His touches were so... gentle.

"Hm? What's wrong, Miss Hunter?"

You could have sworn his voice dipped an octave lower when he spoke next, and subconsciously, you allowed yourself to fall back into his arms.

The quiet chuckle in your ears made your knees weak.

"You're getting worked up over this? Huh? Funny... You never act like this when Luke touches you."

Your eyes closed.

He was mocking you.

"This... It's just—Luke has never—Not even Sylus has—" You stumbled over your words, feeling your face heat up as one hand snaked over to your front to rest just below your navel.

"So what are you saying, Miss Hunter? Do you still want something of me? You have the book. I can let you go."

A choice.

He was giving you a choice.

You could feel him loosen his hold on you at the mere mention of Sylus, and you knew that he was aware he was treading on thin ice. Now, in this moment, the most logical option was clear to you. It was probably just as clear to him, too.

Yet—

Your words fell silent. Logic, as you knew it, didn't seem to be at the forefront of your mind.

"Why so quiet?"

His voice became a whisper, and his hand dipped lower. With the other, he tilted your head back at him, and you could have sworn that he was smirking.

"Kieran..." you mumbled. "What are we... What are we doing?"

"What do you want to be doing?"

"...That's..."

"I know what you want. But I'll let you go if you don't say it. On the other hand, if you do..."

Throw away all morality and compassion, and this place will become a paradise.

His words from before rung clear in your ears, and it was almost ironic to recall them in this moment. Quiet, obedient, dutiful Kieran... You should have known to expect that there was still a reason he stayed loyally at Sylus' side.

You closed your eyes.

"Touch me, please?"

Another low chuckle fell from his lips, and then he was quick—you were pressed up against the wall, palms flat against the concrete, the book in your hands falling to the floor with a little thud. His hands dipped underneath the waistband of your clothing—

"Don't. Turn. Around."

His voice was more commanding than you've ever heard it, clearer-sounding than usual, and once his lips suckled on the exposed skin of your neck, you shivered with the realization that he'd taken off his mask.

"Kieran..."

His hand cupped your mound, a finger slowly sliding up your slit to gather your wetness.

"Mmm... So wet, angel."

Your eyes squeezed shut at the nickname, almost feeling as if none of this was even real.

Yet it was.

Kieran had you caged aginst the wall, his fingers rubbing slow, frustrating circles over your clit. He would slide his hand down to dip into your hole before moving back up, teasing, teasing, never quite giving you what he knew you craved. But he did it so... Well. He had the power to allow you to feel every second of pleasure he'd bestow upon you, that despite the teasing, despite the restrictions, despite the clothing he hadn't bother to remove from you... It felt better than if you were doing it yourself.

"Five minutes, Miss Hunter," he whispered. You could feel one of his fingers prodding your entrance, and you sucked in a breath to hold. "So I'll make this quick, and you have to cum. Got it?"

You barely nodded before his finger slid in, your face flushing at the wet sound of his intrusion. So warm, and long, and slender—you felt yourself clench around him, and he grinned, the laugh against the shell of your ear raising goosebumps all over your skin.

"K-Kiera—"

Your moan choked back when he curled his finger, and you knew that you were long gone. Faster. Quicker. He'd added a second finger to add to the sensations, pumping them in and out at a pace that had your legs trembling.

"Easy, easy."

He mumbled soft praises of encouragement into your ears, almost a stark contrast to the mockery and harshness you'd been exposed to just moments ago. It made your head spin—soft pads pressed up against that spongey spot in your walls with each thrust, and it truly didn't take long for you to come undone.

You could have slid down the wall if Kieran wasn't quick to hold you up, pulling his hands out of your panties to let you catch your breath.

His phone buzzed.

For a moment, a tense silence surrounded both of you.

"...Well, they're back."

And that was it.

He sighed, leaning over to give you a soft kiss on the cheek, and then he let you go. He took a step back, leaving you to scramble for support against the wall. When you turned around again, Kieran was holding out your book—his mask was one again, and he pressed a finger to his lips.

"Shhh."

He leaned in slightly, and you could see in your head, just as well, the wink that he was giving you.

"Our little secret. Not a word about it to the boss."

—❀

It never felt as good without him after that.

Perhaps, he knew it too; perhaps, he felt it, too.

But even recalling that moment—recalling all the moments that followed soon after—often ended with your fingers between your legs, desperately trying to mimic those sensations, only to fall short.

So it was you, who would go to him often. You who would initiate, you who would ask—it was never the other way around. Kieran was adamant in acting nonchalant about it. There wasn't a single moment that his mask would slip, in contrast to how you could barely keep up with how he carried carry himself. Because although his attitude towards you hadn't changed in the slightest, it was still the little things that had caused the room you had for him in your heart to only expand.

It was more than just pleasure for you. It quickly became your excuse to spend time with him.

Despite a majority of your encounters being quick, sporadic—the times where you both would take your time pleasuring each other were different. Softer. They felt more real. From the way he would ensure your comfort, to the way he would always make sure to clean you up properly—you didn't know what to think.

Because once the moment was done, you would go back to normal.

Friends.

Acquaintances.

It didn't help that Kieran had rules for your arrangement: One, that you were never allowed to see his face; two, that neither of you would ever speak of it to anyone else; three, that you would be quiet if anyone else was home; four, that the line was drawn, he wouldn't be inside you.

And, five, that you wouldn't dare to fall in love.

Rules.

Limits.

He made it clear to the both of you—it wasn't supposed to happen like this.

"I'm not one to be playing with the boss's property like this." He admitted it to you one night, lying on your pillow. It was almost a silly thing to say; you wouldn't have considered yourself to belong to Sylus, not when your relationship had been anything but strictly business.

But to Kieran, it meant something else.

You knew enough about him to conclude as such.

Quiet, obedient, dutiful Kieran...

Between him and his brother, he was always the one you'd seen closer to Sylus. There was never a question about it; his work came first. His duty came first. Rare were the moments he would ever put his loyalty anywhere but first priority.

"...You know, Miss Hunter, boss is really fond of you."

It made sense to you, then.

He'd broken just as many rules to be doing this with you. And his own rules, the limits he'd set, the boundary he'd built for the both of you—they were for him, just as much as they were for you. The reason this had all become a game, the reason he would never approach you of his own will, the reason he would only wait for you to ask him another favor, the reason he would torture himself for it—

"Don't let me love you."

He's never said it out loud, but he might as well have.

For to the both of you, this was only an illusion.

Reality was cruel.

Just as he was.

Because in this picture, it didn't matter what you felt.

He would play with you to ruin you. And you would come back to him. He knew that.

He's never truly stopped you.

—❀

"Kie- Kiera—nnmmf—!"

One hand pressed against your mouth, the other busy between your legs. In the tight space surrounding you, though your own hand was wrapped loosely around his cock, you could barely bring yourself to move. Your head was thrown against the wall, eyes rolling back into your head with pleasure.

"Gotta— be— quiet—" He grunted as his hips thrust into your hand, voice low and raspy as he chased his own pleasure. His fingers were unrelenting, driving you closer and closer to the edge in the way he knew exactly how to, and the movements of his hips seemed to match that pace eagerly.

The confines of the closet did nothing to hinder the state you were in, long gone and putty under the control he had over you.

It was dangerous.

You could hear the faint voices of Luke and Sylus conversing on the other end of the room, and this was the riskiest that the two of you had ever done with this arrangement.

You'd expected Kieran to stop.

You'd expected him to usher you out of the room, or to keep his distance from you until it was safe, but he didn't.

Today seemed... different.

He rest his head on your shoulder, hot, panting breaths reverberating in his mask as he continued to rut into your hand.

His fingers curled, and the hand against your mouth tightened its hold—he knew the effect that he had on you. He always knew. Telltale signs of your knees giving out from beneath you, of your legs trembling... Your eyes prickes with tears as he continued to shove his fingers in and out of you, bringing you well past your high for the second time that day.

"Good. That's a good girl," he breathed. His fingers pulled out of you with a wet schlick, but the hand on your mouth didn't leave.

You shook your head, barely holding yourself upright—

"Move your hand, angel."

There was a certain desperation laced into his voice, hips stuttering against your hand. You barely had the energy to move, let alone the space. The closet was unforgiving.

And, yet...

"Please, Miss Hunter... Please..."

You had never heard him plead you like this before.

It was enough.

He struggled to keep his own grunts and moans in check as you gripped him tighter, pumping your hand up and down over his length. Now that you were focusing on it, you were able to feel every vein and ridge, the pad of your thumb gliding over his tip to spread down more of the precum that had been leaking. Hips undulating, the friction over his cock seemed to drive him insane—you felt his body weight fall against you, and the wall of the closet remained the only thing managing to hold both of you up.

There was something about this that gave you a rush of exhileration.

You heard footsteps, and the door, and silence, before—

A louder groan seemed to fall from his lips, and his hips stuttered, spilling over your hand. Thick, and warm, and sticky, your own breath fell out in pants as he pulled away from you and your eyes were drawn to the mess he'd just made.

"Kieran... We gotta—"

Your eyes widened.

He was quick to settle his clothing before promptly carrying you out, and you gasped.

"H-huh?! Hey, wait! Kie, we need to— the closet stil—mmf!"

"Later. Later. I'm not done with you. Just— shit. Just be quiet."

His hand was back on your mouth, barely minding the fact that your hand was gripping his clothing if only to steady yourself in his hold. You knew the steps he was taking, the carpet leading straight to your room. And suddenly, the plush of your bed felt welcome—

But this atmosphere was a lot thicker and heavier than you were used to.

You couldn't help but crawl backwards until your head had bumped against the headboard, watching as Kieran's figure loomed over you.

You could sense it.

He was fighting to keep himself under control.

He fisted your sheets,

"Shit. Fuck. It's so hot."

Annoyed. He was annoyed.

You could only stare like a deer caught up in headlights, unsure of this atmosphere, unsure of what move he would make next.

And you should have expected it.

Immediately his hand whent to your eyes as you felt him shift to throw his mask elsewhere in the room, and then his lips were on yours.

You had kissed, a few times, here and there—but never like this.

You would doubt it, sometimes. What else could have been there behind all his kisses, what else he could have meant when he took your lips into his so gently, so lovingly, so... unlike him, in a sense, that you wished he meant something more.

It was more obvious this time.

His lips crashed against yours with a need to, and he was anything but gentle. Anything but composed.

It almost didn't feel like him.

All tongue, and teeth, and desperate breaths of air—he would barely give you space to breathe before he was back on you, his other hand moving to hold your chin, deepening the kiss as much as he possibly could. He kissed you as if he couldn't get enough. He kissed you as if he'd been deprived of it, all his life, that this was the culmination of the past several months of this game that you would play with yourselves.

"Kier—"

You couldn't speak; he wouldn't let you.

Your chest tightened with the overwhelming outpour of his passion, your legs tangling together enough for you to feel him press against you.

You couldn't do this.

Not like this.

"Kieran!"

Every breath you'd take was only swallowed back into his lips, as if he wasn't really listening to you.

"Kiera— Kieran!"

You felt him shake his head, his hips beginning to grind against yours.

"Kieran... Kie—Take off— Get your han—"

He spoke, this time.

"Can't," he rasped. You could feel him panting against your lips, before he cupped your face and dived in once more. "Can't."

This was stupid.

You couldn't understand why he would put himself through so much, when he had obviously been keeping every little bit of his own feelings sealed behind whatever composure he carried himself.

"Don't let me love you."

You could hear it in the way he kissed you, the way he moved against you, the way je almost seemed to have lost any control he had in his body and his only thought was to consume you.

"Don't let me love you."

But it was too late.

You tugged at his hair, a feeble attempt at pushing him off of you—and when it didn't work, you bit on his lip.

He was off of you in an instant, sitting up in the sheer shock of it all, his hands leaving yours to rub on his lips.

A mistake, perhaps.

A rule broken, perhaps.

His eyes met yours, and immediately, you sucked in a breath.

For all the times that you had seen him and his brother without the mask, this was the first time you'd seen him like... This.

Flushed cheeks, lips swollen and parted, chest heaving for the air he'd so gladly relinquised earlier just to keep himself attached to you.

His eyes were wide.

Yet he couldn't seem to look away from you.

Slowly, you brought yourself back up on one of your elbows, your other hand reaching up to cup his cheek.

"Kieran..." you whispered, softly.

You didn't say anything else as he gulped, didn't say anything else as tears began to roll silently down his cheeks.

"Can't..." he let out a slow, shaky breath. "I can't... I can't... Can't—"

Your thumb moved to caress his cheek, wiping away his tears. With a gentle tug, you pulled him back down to you, and he didn't resist.

His eyes never left yours.

"Touch me," you mumbled. The tips of your noses touched, and you gently nuzzeled against him, allowing yourself to lie back down on the bed.

"Take me."

You watched as he sucked in a breath.

And there was no going back. There never was any going back. It had been this way from the start; neither of you had cared enough to stop the dance that you'd began.

There was no going back.

Now that you've seen each other, now that you could take in the way his eyes could look so forlorn in love, for you; how his pretty features could transform into a need so blatantly displayed on his face like this...

There was no going back.

Not a word was shared between you any longer. And when he leaned forward, his lips melting back against yours was no longer overwhelming. Messy, lazy kisses were placed across your mouth, his hand moving back to rest upon your cheek as yours did his.

Soft. Careful. Gentle.

The kisses from him that you were used to, but now, able to look into his eyes like this, had your heart swelling with an emotion you simply couldn't pinpoint. Your fingers moved to tangle in his hair. It brought him to a pause, leaving your lips, resting his forehead on yours.

And he whispered your name.

No pet names, no nicknames—

Your name.

Your name sounded so sweet on his lips, his voice cracking slightly with the intensity of which he would speak it.

And you smiled.

"Kieran."

It was slow, the way he leaned in next, the flutter of his eyelashes tickling your skin, before he pulled back.

Clothes discarded.

You wouldn't have known where in the room he had tossed them to, when it only mattered that you could feel him. Warm, and soft... Heavy, and... Safe.

Skin to skin.

Finally.

You inhaled deeply as he dipped his head down to your neck, lips attaching to a particularly sensitive spot that he'd memorized, before he sucked. It drew a hiss from your lips, but that didn't stop him—a trail of marks worked their way down from your neck to your collarbone, before he looked up again.

And his hips pressed against yours.

Your breath stuttered.

You could feel him pressing against your lower stomach, hard and warm, still a little sticky, and very well leaking wetness onto your skin. Just a little, little shift of movement—

Your eyes squeezed shut at the sensation. His cock dipped between your folds, sliding against you with a tentative buck of his hips.

"Ah... Shit..."

The words fell not from your mouth, but his.

Hazy proved your vision as you opened your eyes once more to look at him.

His jaw was clenched. You could sense an inkling of self control sill dwindling in the back of his mind, a voice telling him not to.

You reached over to hold his hand.

"Kieran..." you pleaded, and the groan that left his lips as you moved against him sent shivers down your spine.

Inside. You wanted him inside you.

And so many rules were being broken, your arrangement having shattered into pieces the moment you laid your eyes on him—

But you couldn't care less anymore.

You needed him.

"Kieran, please."

It was a flicker of doubt that you saw pass in his eyes that made you grasp his hand tighter.

"...Angel, I can't—we can't—"

You whimpered as he let go of your hand, only to press your hips down against the bed. You couldn't fight against it; his grip was stronger than yours. Yet the feeling of his cock was heavy over your cunt. It was too close. It was almost there.

Your hips struggled against him, and he could only groan—it didn't take long before it was he who started sliding against you, the friction having a mewl escape from your lips. You did everything in your power to get more of it—more of it. Your hips rolled with near pathetic desperation, and you could slowly feel him give in to your display of desire. His hand shifted, wrapping around his length, allowing himself to guide it through your folds—

"Shit... Fuck..."

His groans were like music to your ears.

You watched, panting, as his gaze moved downward—seemingly entranced at the way you were spread out for him, at the way you would force yourself to milk the friction of his tip against your slit... You could feel it nudge against your hole occasionally, but he wouldn't let it slip inside you. Instead, he would deliberately guide it through, slipping back up to your clit, bringing it down—the process repeated.

As much as you wanted to fuck yourself onto him, he wouldn't let you.

And you could barely take it.

"Kieran!" you cried out, still trying to lift your hips, trying to get more. "Please... please... Please, I'm so empty, just— Just a little, Kieran...!"

He hissed as he nudged once more over your hole—

And this time, he didn't pull back.

You felt your pleas swallowed back, nearly choking you, as he pushed inside of you just a bit.

His eyes moved up to yours, teeth gritted.

"This? Like this, Miss Hunter?"

The nickname falling from his lips this time felt so undeniably wrong. Yet hearing it did nothing to quell your lust—if only to tighten it.

And he knew.

Of course he knew.

You saw the corner of his lips curl up into a slight smirk, as he pulled back ever so slightly before thrusting back in—drooling cockhead breaching your walls, giving you the slightest stimulation, stretching you the slightest bit.

"You like that, huh?" He leaned forward to croon into your ear, the deep rumble of his voice so close to you sending a jolt through your body. "Like how that feels, Miss Hunter? Taking the tip of my cock like that? S'that what you wanted?"

And he continued like that. Only fucking the fat tip of his cock into you again and again, just barely giving you what you wanted. All while he would watch you. Intently. His eyes would never leave yours, searching, taking in every ounce of your reavtions, knowing full well that you could finally do the same to him...

And then he pressed in deeper.

It was slow; you'd barely noticed it.

But having been so used to just the tip of him inside you, the feeling of being filled a little bit more had you gasping.

"...I'm sorry," he groaned.

And that was it.

It was then that his eyes shut, and he fell forward against you. Your cunt throbbed at the way he would retreat, followed by each and every thrust forward sinking him just a little deeper inside of you. He would pull out, and try again—deeper.

Deeper.

A little bit more.

Almost there.

And no amount of self control, no amount of self-restraint could have held him back any longer.

A mix between a cry and a moan left your lips as he pressed himself fully inside you, cock pulsing deep within your walls, hips pressed against yours as you took him wholly, fully, right down to the hilt.

Your eyes were wide.

Your chest heaved with the need to steady yourself, and you saw the flicker of conflict pass in his own gaze again once they landed back on you.

Shakily, you reached a hand back up to cup his cheek.

Quiet, obedient, dutiful Kieran.

Every move nearly always calculated, always weighing the pros and cons, always the more... responsible one.

But was different, today.

Today, he was yours. And you were his.

You nodded, caressing his cheek.

And it happened in an instant.

Lips crashed back into yours, mirroring that same hunger from earlier, cock driving in and out of you with a force that nearly had the bed rocking He was no longer careful. He had everything, he had all of you, and he made it clear with the way he fucked into you that he wasn't about to let you go.

Your moans and cries were swallowed once more into his lips, but you didn't dare push him away. You allowed his hands to roam over your body, allowed his hips to snap into you. You didn't protest when he folded your legs back, allowing him to shove deeper, deeper, deeper into you, the sheer intensity of it all bringing tears to your eyes.

And when the kiss broke, he would pant against you, haphazardly wiping away at your tears, the sound of skin slapping against skin an echo in the room that mixed with your cries of pleasure.

He said it, then.

"I love you."

A shaky whisper.

He wouldn't stop his thrusts, wouldn't look away from you.

"I love you. Shit—I love you."

There was nothing he could do to stop it, then. Tears streamed down your face at the confession you'd waited so, so long to hear from him, a twisting in your heart accompanied that told you this was real.

You broke out into a sob, even as he leaned down to kiss it away, cries choked back into your throat as your arms qrapped around him tightly.

"I love you," you whimpered.

You felt him still inside you, groaning into your ear as his warmth filled you up.

"Kieran... Kieran... I love you."

He fell against you, your legs wrapping around his waist as his weight pressed you into the mattress. Your eyes closed, and you placed light kisses into his hair.

"Don't hide from me," you murmured. "Not anymore."

And it wasn't supposed to be like this.

It wasn't as easy as just being like this.

You knew it.

He knew it.

You had always wondered how far the chains of loyalty and devotion could really take someone...

But now, with him so close to you, you figured it couldn't matter so much anymore.

"Kieran?" you coaxed him up to look at you, reveling in the sight of his dazed eyes struggling to focus on yours.

You smiled, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose.

"Know that I choose you. And I always will."

⁺₊ / an: first of all this is funny to post bc ive had dms with @star-anons-blog over the fic she posted, and you won't believe that neither of us had any idea of what we were writing 😆 but we ABSOLUTELY synced bc by then i was halfway through this, and her fic is like, the luke pov of a similar situation/vibe so IF YOU HAVEN'T READ IT YET, ABSOLUTELY PLEASE DO, IT'S LITERAL PERFECTION. <3

also let me ramble a bit cause. the basis for this fic? it’s so interesting to me that a lot of the side characters are so closely attached to the main leads in themes of loyalty. i.e. xavier-jeremiah as captain/vice captain; rafayel-thomas as artist/manager; zayne-greyson as mentor/apprentice; and now sylus and the twins as boss/right-hand men. and it’s like, different themes of loyalty, too, but you know that none of them are willing to go against the respective mains. it makes you wonder… how far can you push that? what if they fall in love with mc, too? to what bounds of loyalty will they restrain themselves? and it’s so damn fun to think about and dissect, and i feel kieran's character, as separate from his brother, made him the perfect guinea pig for this <3

(but! i promise luke (and, yk, both of them) will get his (their) turn eventually!!)

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[lightsupinthenorth]

Always ready to bolt

Read on AO3

When he learns that Billy survived Starcourt, Steve visits him every day in the hospital. At first, Billy doesn’t say anything, because he can’t speak, so Steve does all the talking. He babbles almost constantly, so neither of them will have to focus on the beeping of the machines Billy is hooked to, or on the greyish white of the walls, of the ceiling, of the bed sheets, of everything in this fucking room, in this fucking hospital.

 The first words Billy says to him when he recovers the ability to speak are:

 “Why are you here?”

 Billy’s voice is rough from disuse and nearly inaudible, but the words have the force of a punch in the gut and they leave Steve winded. For the first time in a long while, he’s speechless. It took Billy finally talking to shut Steve up. It’s not all that surprising. Steve always has the worst timing.

 He has no answer for Billy, because that question, the one he just asked, Steve has asked to himself countless times in the last few weeks. And he’s no closer to answering it than he was when he first thought about it.

 So, he replies with another question. That’s all he has.

 “Do you want me to go?” Steve gets up.

 “No!” Billy whispers-yells, reaching instinctively for Steve’s wrist.

 He lets go of it almost immediately and clears his throat. “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

 “No worries.”

 Silence settles, and it’s uncomfortable. So much so that Steve starts rambling again. He’s relieved when Billy butts in with a comment here and there. Maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t entirely despise Steve.  

 It goes on like this until Billy is discharged from the hospital. Steve is the one who comes to fetch him, because apparently his father couldn’t make it. He drops him off at the Hargrove-Mayfield home and, right after Billy exits the car, before he can close the passenger door, Steve tells him to call if he wants, so they can talk or hang out “or whatever”. He’s not looking at Billy, when he says it. And he’s pretty sure he’s blushing… he can feel the tell-tale heat in his cheeks.

 “Sure. And, Harrington… thank you.”

 Steve isn’t sure what Billy is thanking him for: the ride, the visits or both, but he replies:

 “It was no trouble.”

 Because that’s the truth.

 He thinks that he’ll hear from Billy in a couple days, at best, but it happens much sooner than that. Steve hears from him a few hours later, but indirectly. He gets a call from Max, and she sounds panicked. Steve is on alert as soon as her dread registers to him.

 “Steve… You’ve got to do something. It’s Billy… He’s not home… I don’t know where he went but I don’t think he’s planning on coming back. All of his stuff is gone… I… I’m really worried.”

 Fuck. That’s quite bad, but at least Billy probably hasn’t gone very far. He doesn’t own a car anymore, after all. Steve probably has a shot at finding him.

 “I… I’ll look for him. Try not to worry, I’ll update you as soon as I can.”

 “Thank you.” She says, and Steve can hear the tears in her voice.

 His chest tightens. He needs to hurry.

 He only notices he was gripping the phone far too hard when he slams it down to hang up, the clanging noise it makes resonating in his barren flat.

 Steve drives around, trying to ignore his shaky hands and frantic heartbeat. It’s pouring rain, which makes it hard to see. He still notices a hunched figure by the side of the road, on the outskirt of town. He slows the car and roll the passenger window down.

 It is indeed one Billy Hargrove, wearing a now soaked hoodie and carrying a duffle bag.

 “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Hargrove?” Steve yells to be heard above the sound of the rain.

 “I’m going somewhere.” Billy says.

 The bastard isn’t stopping.

 “Where?”

 His steps falter.

 “I don’t know… just somewhere.”

 Just somewhere… What a brilliant plan. Steve sighs, equal part annoyed and worried.

 “Get in the car.”

 Billy doesn’t move.

 “Get in the fucking car, Billy, I swear!”

 Steve instantly regrets letting his stress get the best of him, but at least it gets him what he wants.

 “Fine, fine, I’m getting in…” Once Billy is seated and has closed the door, he adds: “just, don’t drive me home, please. I just can’t live there anymore.”

 Steve would like to enquire about it, but now isn’t the right time for that. His number one priority is getting Billy some dry clothes.

 “Why didn’t you just say so, earlier? You could have just come to my place with me.” Steve asks as he makes a U-turn to get them back to Hawkins.

 Billy doesn’t answer, preferring to fidget with the zipper of his duffle bag.  

 -

 It takes a lot to convince Billy to stay at Steve’s. Steve understands that he isn’t Billy’s first choice for a roommate, but surely living with him is better than having nowhere to go, right? Well, Billy doesn’t seem certain.

 Billy’s not a bad roommate… he’s the opposite, in fact. It’s just that, for the first few weeks of their arrangement, Steve barely even notices he doesn’t live on his own anymore. Sure, Billy’s there all the time, but he barely takes any room at all.

 Steve tries to make Billy take the bed, since he’s still recovering, but Billy insists he’ll be fine on the couch.

 Steve’s emptied half of his own closet for him, and Billy just puts his duffle bag in it, instead of taking his clothes out of the bag and into the closet. Billy’s hair products, shower gel, shaving cream, razor, toothbrush and toothpaste all stay in the bag too, unless he’s using them. When Steve gets up every morning, Billy is already awake, and the couch doesn’t even look slept in. He’s silent, most of the time, reading book after book from the library. He washes the dishes and does pretty much all the cleaning (including Steve’s laundry) while Steve is at work, no matter how many times Steve tells him he doesn’t need to do all that. Maybe Billy would feel better living with Steve if he stopped doing all the chores, as well as cooking most meals, and behaving like a prisoner.

 It takes a broken mug for Steve to understand what’s really going on:

 One afternoon, Steve comes home earlier than usual from his shift at Family video and finds Billy doing the washing up in the kitchen. He must have been too deep in thought to notice Steve’s arrival, because when Steve greets him, he startles and the mug he was washing slips from his hand. It hits the edge of the sink and falls to the floor, shattering on impact. Steve flinches at the same time as Billy does.

 “Fuck, fuck, I’m sorry, Steve. I’m so sorry.” Billy kneels down to pick up the pieces of the broken mug. It’s his favorite one, the one Dustin got for him. There’s a big “world’s n°1 mom” written in block letters on the front. He grumbled when it was offered to him, but he loves it really. He doesn’t even care that it’s broken, though. It’s just a mug. He’s more focused on the fact Billy might cut himself.

 He’s going to tell him to leave it, that Steve will go fetch the broom, but it’s too late: Billy hisses, and suddenly there is blood on his hand, on the piece of ceramic he’s holding, falling on the floor in a puddle. Billy doesn’t stop though: he keeps trying to clean the mess.

 Steve has to kneel beside him and hold his wrists to prevent him from continuing. He takes the jagged pieces from Billy’s bloody hand and puts them back on the floor.

 “Let’s go to the bathroom, alright? We’re going to need the first aid kit.”

 Billy doesn’t reply, he doesn’t nod, but he doesn’t resist when Steve pulls him up and leads him to the bathroom.

 Once he’s done bandaging Billy’s hand, Billy gets up from the edge of the bathtub on which he was sitting and leaves the room without a word. Steve follows him and watches, bewildered, as Billy takes his duffle bag from their shared closet and goes to the front door.

 “Billy, where are you going?” Steve tries to hide his concern, not wanting Billy to freak out even worse than he apparently is, but he’s not doing a very good job of it.

 “I’ll get out of your hair. I’m a dead weight, I’m just dragging you down.” Billy replies in a deadpan tone.

 That’s when it clicks: Billy doesn’t act the way he does because he hates living with Steve… he acts the way he does because he thinks Steve doesn’t want him here.

 He rushes to Billy’s side and puts his hands on his shoulders, as if it would stop him from bolting if he wanted to.

 “Where the fuck is that coming from?”

 Billy’s staring at his shoes.

 “I don’t deserve to live here with you… I’m taking too much room, and I’m useless and clumsy… I broke your favorite mug… and…”

 “Hey, hey” Steve interrupts him. He can’t take anymore of this. “it’s just a dumb mug, it doesn’t matter. You’re not useless, and I love having you here, okay? You’re not taking too much room at all.”

 If anything, he is not taking enough.

 “You’re just saying that because you’re too nice.” Billy mumbles.

 Steve feels helpless.

 “I swear I mean it, Billy. I wish you felt more comfortable here. It’s your home too, now.”

 Hell, Billy even insists on paying part of the rent with the government hush money. He belongs here as much as Steve does, even from an objective point of view.

 “Really?”

 Billy looks up, unsure, and there are tears in his eyes. Steve can’t help but envelope him in a tight hug. He should probably have asked beforehand, but thankfully Billy doesn’t freak out on him. He just tenses slightly, before relaxing and hugging Steve back tentatively.

 Steve convinces Billy to stay, and after that incident he’s less lenient about Billy behaving the way he did before. He used not to protest because he wanted to respect Billy’s boundaries and because he thought Billy disliked him (at best). Now that he knows the horrible truth, though, this will not fly any longer. Steve’s misunderstanding of the situation led to him not doing anything to make Billy feel more welcome, and it has to change. He insists that Billy unpack, that he stop doing ninety percent of the chores and only do half of them instead. He includes him more in his own activities, instead of letting him stay in a corner reading.

 The only thing left is getting Billy to sleep in a real bed. This problem ends up solving itself when Billy wakes Steve up from a bad dream one night. Steve asks him to stay with him and Billy accepts without hesitation. He keeps to his side of the bed at first, but Steve snuggles up to him and Billy doesn’t protest. After that, they spend most nights together.

 And Steve loves it. The proximity, the intimacy, the comfort it brings. But it’s hard. It’s hard to hide the feelings he caught for Billy along the way. He can’t pinpoint when they sprang, exactly, but now they’re here and they’re not going anywhere any time soon. How could Steve not love Billy, now that he knows how caring, sensitive, and intelligent he is?

 Yes, hiding how he feels is hard. But Steve won’t say anything. He can’t. It would ruin things, and things are so good these days.

 At least, that’s what he thinks. However, one night, it becomes clear that Billy isn’t dealing as well as Steve thought with their living arrangement, that he still doesn’t feel entirely at home at the flat. And it breaks Steve’s heart.

 Billy is having a nightmare and waking him up is a struggle. Billy’s trashing too much and Steve receives a punch in the nose for his effort. When Billy finally wakes up and sees Steve holding his hand under his bloody nose, he puts two and two together and it doesn’t go well.

 “I hurt you.” He says.

 His tone is neutral, which is never a good sign.

 “Hey, it’s fine. It was an accident. You didn’t mean to.”

 “It doesn’t matter whether I meant to or not, I still hurt you.”

 And Steve loves Billy, but his stubbornness is so infuriating, especially in this kind of situations.

 “See, that’s why I shouldn’t have moved in with you. I knew I’d only bring you problems… I’ll just go.”

 Billy is already out of bed and in front of their closet, taking his empty duffle bag out. Before he can put any of his things in it, though, Steve’s by his side and basically ripping the bag from his hands. There is no way he’s letting Billy go, especially not in the middle of the night, when the pink hue of the sky indicates it’s going to snow soon.

 “Billy, stop it! I thought you were done trying to run away.”

 Billy flinches.

 “I don’t want you to leave. Okay? So, don’t use me as an excuse. If you still want to go, it’s on you, just admit that you don’t want to stay because you hate it here and be done with it.”

 Steve’s frustrated, and he’s getting worked up. He doesn’t know what more to do to make Billy comfortable.  

 “Of course, I don’t hate it here, Steve… I just… I just think you deserve better than me.”

 Billy’s voice so low that Steve wouldn’t hear it if the night were any less silent.

 “That’s bullshit. You’re good Billy. You’re a great roommate, and you’re my best friend, and I don’t want anyone else. Get that into your thick head.”

 “I’m… I’m trying.”

 “I know you are. Can you also try to stop being ready to bolt at the slightest issue? It feels awful, knowing that you might leave at any time… because you are my home. If you leave, you take my home with you.”

 Billy stares at him for what feels like ages before he tackles him into a strong hug, nearly cutting Steve’s airways. Steve doesn’t mind one bit, though. He hugs back just as tightly.

 “I’m sorry.” Billy apologizes as they separate.

 “It’s okay. You’re annoying, but I love you, so I can deal with it.” Steve assures him, putting one of Billy’s curl behind his ear.

 He can see his eyes shine in the pinkish glow of the winter sky.

 “I love you too.”

 Steve’s breath hitches, and then they’re kissing softly, right in front of their open closet, their bare feet on the cold linoleum floor, goosebumps on their skin both from the chilly air and the kiss.

 They’re going to be fine, now.

[shadowsof-thenight]

Fictober day 14: Adrenaline

Promptnumber: 29 “I’m doing this for you” Fandom: MCU Characters: Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes and reader Warnings: slight angst Words: 1495 Summary: Sam and Bucky drag you along to a place where you don’t want to be.

A/n: I finally had some real inspiration. This story might get more parts.

Adrenaline

You were standing in the long lines and smiled nervously to the happy people in front of you. Why was this line so incredibly long? You’d been waiting for nearly thirty minutes already and every minute seemed to add to your nerves. You were feeling worse with every passing moment; your stomach was flipping and your hands were getting sweaty. It was a complete mystery to you why that was happening. Over the past few years you had certainly done scarier things that this. So why on earth were you this agitated?

The line shuffled forward slowly and you quietly blew out the breath you had unintentionally been holding. The end of the line was getting closer by the second and before long it would be your turn. You looked at your friends and grimaced as their smirking faces met yours. They were enjoying your nerves a little too much for your liking. Sam’s shoulders were silently shaking with laughter, while Bucky placed an arm around your shoulders, suppressing a chuckle. Unsuccessfully, you might add.

“You’ve done far wilder things, haven’t you?” He mumbled and rubbed your arm. The smirk the was still on his face told you that he was less compassionate than his words were feigning. You shrugged off his arm and gently shoved him, causing both men to laugh loudly.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Sam said, still laughing as he softly padded your shoulder.

You offered them both an obviously fake smile and a less than gracious hand-gesture, before turning back towards the front of the line. The line had shuffled forward once more and you took a few steps to catch up again. Closer to your doom, you thought to yourself dramatically. 
Why on earth did people wait in line to kickstart their adrenaline? Why were you?

During missions you got your fair share of adrenaline, many times over. Some missions were done on pure adrenaline. Those times where your body was so exhausted and you were ready to pass out, but shots were fired and you had to keep going. A huge part of you liked those kind of missions. It wasn’t necessarily the danger, or that initial rush. It was the feeling of victory, the satisfaction of managing to put a mission to a successful ending. Where you’d come home exhausted and slept in until noon. Those were the nights where your mind would finally quiet down. You’d be too tired to overthink every single word or move you had made.

This however? Getting on a rollercoaster that is supposedly the scariest in the world, had no real purpose and you didn’t why you had let them talk you into this.

The line shuffled again and you had finally reached the end. You were up next. Taking another deep breath you told the lady up front that there were three of you and to your surprise, and horror, she directed you to the two front rows. You only nodded in reply to her happy words, apparently those were the most coveted places.

“One of you better sit with me,” you grumbled and the two men barked out their laughter.

“Scared?” Sam teased and you punched him, hard. It only made him laugh harder, while he rubbed his arm.

“I’m doing this for you, don’t you forget that,” you said, your voice low and menacing. You deserved more kindness for your great sacrifice, you thought to yourself.

“And I appreciate it,” Sam chuckled, leaning in to kiss your cheek. You smiled at him, unable to really be angry at either of these man, even if you were regretting coming here.

Today was Sam’s birthday. He hadn’t thought he’d be able to celebrate, since the three of you had been sent on a mission. However, you and Bucky had discussed it and you had promised your teammate that if you got done in time, you’d indulge him and his love for theme parks.

The mission had taken you to Jackson, New Jersey and that meant he could’ve also chosen to go home immediately. It had been his choice. You should’ve known that he’d pick Six Flags over the drive home. He’d pick Six Flags over almost anything, little adrenaline junkie. And that was how you ended up here, in line for the second rollercoaster of the day. You were seriously regretting your generous offer.

It wasn’t the loops that got to you, or the speed. It was the several feet drop, which every rollercoaster had these days. And it was usually at the very beginning of the ride. And the one you were about to step onto was huge. A drop of 45 stories, the internet had told you this morning and it was just too high a number for you to be able to relax.

Sam and Bucky didn’t understand, they’d jump headfirst into anything remotely dangerous. They had no fear. Or very little of it at least. You on the other hand had a lot of fears, which you controlled by careful research and planning. You’d take risks like any other avenger, they were just most often calculated risks. This wasn’t something you could plan for though and there was little control to be had in those flaky looking cars.

Still, you toughened up and stood in line for every single ride this park had to offer, including the rollercoasters. And these man better be appreciative of that. Enough at least to split up the duo for this one ride. Sam stepped up to the front car, telling that this was his birthday and he wanted to experience it front row. He did, graciously, offer up Bucky with a big sweet innocent smile.

Bucky shook his head with a smile and placed his hands on your shoulders, gently squeezing them. You took another deep breath and leaned into him a little, allowing his calm to wash over you for a single moment. When the gates opened, he placed a kiss on your hair and gave a gentle push forward. It was time to step on board. Sitting down you quickly strapped yourself in and clenched your hands on the brackets, assuring yourself that it was sturdy enough. It was silly of course, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Hey Buck, think you could hold on with just your arm?” Sam challenged, turning in his seat to wink at you.

“Don’t you dare,” you grumbled and Bucky laughed, promising not to test you any more than absolutely necessary. Though you weren’t quite sure how comforting that statement was supposed to be. Still, he was safely strapped in soon after and you allowed yourself to relax your shoulders a little.

“Party Pooper,” Sam joked and you wished that he was close enough to hurt. He was having too good a time teasing you.

That was the moment you vowed to yourself that you’d find something he was scared off and then you’d get back at him. Revenge would be sweet. Sweeter even if you could get some teammates to help you with it. Bucky surely would, he liked teasing Sam even more than he liked teasing you.

You were brought back from your pondering as the countdown started and on impulse you reached to your right, grasping Bucky’s hand. You hadn’t thought about doing it. If you had, you wouldn’t have done it. Placing a sweaty hand on his wasn’t exactly a seductive move. Not that you had seduction on your mind during these fearful moments. Still, Bucky had been on your mind for quite some time now and it scared you to think that he would ever figure that out.

Bucky gently squeezed your hand his thumb rubbing slow circles on the back of it. You turned your head to look at him and found his smiling gaze already directed at you. It was a kind smile, bright and gentle. One he had graced you with several times before, and every time it made your heart stutter. It was the kind of smile that could melt a heart of ice, you thought. It surely melted yours.

Before you could say or do anything else, you were propelled forward, travelling up towards the highest point of the ride. Your stomach was doing somersaults again and your hands began to shake. Bucky hadn’t let go of you yet and kept rubbing soothing circles, though you barely noticed. You were too focussed on the oncoming drop.

Sam’s elated shouting reached your ears a second before the drop came into view and your own screaming joined his, though yours was decidedly less elated and more frightened. Bucky chuckled, remaining otherwise silent as you were dropped. It felt liked you were free falling those agonising 45 stories and you realised that nothing, absolutely nothing that Sam or Bucky could say would get you into one more rollercoaster today. You were done. Completely done. You’d take the mission driven adrenaline over this kind any day!

***

Fictober Masterlist

[loserboyfriendrjl]

"you know, you're awfully pretty," dorcas smiled, twirling a strand of marlene's blonde hair around their fingers, "it's such a shame you're such a bitch though."

"oh, fuck off!" she exclaimed, playfully shoving her lover. "if i was as bad as you say i am, you certainly would not love me."

"i'd love you even at your worst, marlene. i'd love you even after you leave me and break my heart."

her gaze softened. "and i will love you just the same. i will love you, adore you even, if you will, even from the skies above."

"bold of you to assume you're going to end up in heaven."

marlene snorted loudly; she started laughing, the sound tingling dorcas' ears in such a way, that it sent shivers up their spine.

god, did they love marlene. and she loved them just the same.

[kiasimoart]

🎶𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓈𝑒𝑒𝓂 𝓉𝑜 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝓂𝑒

𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝐼'𝓂 𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝒽𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊

𝐼𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓇𝓃𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝑒𝓎𝑒

𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓃 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝑜 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊

𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊

𝒯𝒽𝓇𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝑜𝓁𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓀𝓎

𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝐼 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊

𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒶𝓃 𝒾𝓃𝓋𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃!

𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉'𝓈 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝐼 𝑔𝑒𝓉

𝐼𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒾𝓈 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓂𝓊𝓃𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃

𝐼 𝒹𝒾𝓈𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓃𝑒𝒸𝓉

𝐼'𝓋𝑒 𝓈𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊

𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌

𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝑜 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓃𝑒𝒸𝓉

𝒮𝑜 𝐼 𝒹𝒾𝓈𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓃𝑒𝒸𝓉🎶

Soft revalink for my soul🥺❤️

Sketched this while i was listening to the Song “Communication” by The Cardigans…omg feels😭

[all-about-kyu]

Pairing: Newfie!Jaehyun x fem Basenji!reader

Genre/ Trope: fluff, angst, enemies (idiots) to loves, high school au

Rating: PG

Warnings: language, pet name (he calls the reader pup), aggression, mentions of heats/ruts, feeling overwhelmed, injuries, blood, infirmaries, kissing

Word Count: 8.7k

Hybridverse Masterlist || Newfie!Jae Masterlist

Spring Sophomore Year

“Fuck you Jung!” you yell when you get to the track, “It’s our turn on the field.”

Your blonde ears twitch angrily on your head glaring daggers into the back of the tall boy’s head. You have never gotten along with Jung Jaehyun, you’ve been classmates for years now. Not once have you ever enjoyed his presence. Especially now in high school, he’s become even more aggravating than he was before. You watch how his tail stops wagging and he turns around with a slight smirk on his face. His floppy brown ears frame his face as he looks down at you.

“Sorry, pup,” he says with a very condescending tone, “did I upset you? Why do you need it anyway? You guys run around the field on the track, no harm in us practicing for this weekend’s game.” he shrugs with a chuckle.

“I have girls who need to practice javelin and discus! They can’t do that if you’re stupid sweaty asses are running around kicking a ball.” you yell at him.

You may be much smaller than him, you being a Basenji and him being a Newfoundland, but that doesn’t stop you from standing up to the large dog hybrid. You step closer to him and poke your finger into his chest making him look down at you directly. He still just smirks at you and lets out a light chuckle.

“Sorry pup, it’s our day for the field.” he instigates further by petting your ears, but you smack his hand away.

“No, Jung, it’s not. You had the field on Monday. It hasn’t even been a week, it’s our day.”

Slowly one of his teammates walks up and puts a hand on his shoulder, “Jae, we could just go to the JV field for the day-”

“No Jungwoo, it’s okay,” he interrupts his friend, “let them run around while we practice. I’m sure it couldn’t hurt to have your field girls do some running with you, could it?”

You growl under your breath but eventually cave and walk away. Your ears are flat against your head in anger towards the larger hybrid. Your teammates look over at the soccer players and you watch how their reactions are extremely varied. You notice how one of your sprinters very clearly eyeing up one of the more muscular players. You’ve never understood why some of the older girls on your team ogle at them, sure you’re still 16, you haven’t presented yet, but you still don’t understand what they see in those boys. They’re dumb jocks who just think with the wrong heads. You don’t let him stay under your skin for too long though, you channel that energy into your practice.

One of your teammates, a snowhare, has always been known for her speed. It only makes sense with her being a hare, but even then she runs faster than any of the other bunnies or hares on the team. For a long while, you thought that she’d pursue track as a career. Then one day she told you that there were two reasons she wasn’t. The first is that she isn’t allowed to, as a hare, she’s seen as having advantages over human competitors. The second is that she has a high passion for science, specifically pharmaceutical sciences. That’s what she’s been planning to study for a while now and has no wish to change her mind. Not only is she an athlete and a science enthusiast, but she’s also a dancer. Her primary partner just so happens to be Jaehyun’s best friend too. It is absolutely the worst feeling going to her performances and having to see the horrible Newfoundland hybrid there too. You often spend time with her though, she’s one of your closest friends and you just have to tolerate seeing Jaehyun to support her.

“Hey,” you hear her catch up to you panting, “you seem out of it. What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing important, just still a little bitter about the dog on the field.”

She laughs slightly, “He’s not that bad! He watches me and Sicheng practice sometimes. He’s really a great person.”

“You don’t get it!” you groan, “Here, let’s sit on the bench for a little break and talk.”

She nods and you continue to run towards the area with benches. The moment you get there she tosses you your water bottle before grabbing her own and sitting beside you.

“So explain to me why Jaehyun is so horrible?” she asks with a laugh.

“You really don’t see what I do? He’s cocky as fuck, he’s rude as fuck, he’s just horrible!” you rant, “Don’t you see how he belittles us while we’re out here? Come on, it’s obvious. He tried to pet me today!”

She lets your rant while you take your break, though she doesn’t understand what you’re seeing she still listens. When you start to run again though she challenges you to a race just to see how good your endurance could be. Racing against her is the best way to test that and even get more of a workout in. Everything was going perfectly smooth until you heard a deep laugh resonating across the field. When you check to see what was happening you saw one of the younger runners sitting off to the side clearly flirting with one of the soccer boys. You see red. Stopping in your tracks you march onto the grass and right up to the goalie who just happens to be that insufferable Newfie hybrid.

“Um, could you go away?” he groans, not even looking at you.

“Tell your fucking teammate to get back on the field then and stop flirting with my sprinter.” you bite back.

Jaehyun nods toward the team manager who notices that he’s requesting a break. When the whistle blows he immediately takes his gloves off and throws them to the ground. He turns towards you and you can see the fire in his deep brown eyes. Though you do feel slightly intimidated by his stare, you don’t back down. You hold eye contact with him and stay standing there with eyes glaring holes in his skull. He grabs your arm and drags you towards the benches by the away bleachers where no one was. Both the soccer and track and field teams are sitting by the home bleachers.

“What the fuck are you playing at?” he grits out.

“What am I playing at?” you scoff, “What are you playing at? You’re apparently so nice to everyone else so why the hell are you such an ass to me?”

He steps closer, his face hardly two inches from yours, “You annoy the living hell out of me. I’m nice to everyone, but you make it particularly hard to be nice to you. I would be nice if you weren’t so rude to me to start with.”

“What?” you question, slightly taken aback.

“You heard me, now fuck off and keep running little pup.” he smirks before leaving to take his break finally.

You stood there for a few moments processing what just happened. What he had just said to you. You weren’t the first one to be mean to him, he had started it, you don’t know when or what he did. You know he did though. You didn’t get much time to deeply think about it though, this was the last practice before the final match of the school year. You needed to get your head in the game and not let his comment hold you hostage.

You try so hard to not let his comment bother you, you can’t stop thinking about it. Sitting in your literature class the next day you can’t seem to focus on anything but what he had said to you. Were you mean to him to start with? Why would you do that though? He had to have started it all, he just had to have. When your teacher calls out your name you snap back into reality and try to figure out what he had just asked you. Panicked you look around for any classmate to give you a hint. Unfortunately, Jaehyun was the first to make eye contact with you. He chuckles slightly and pushes his hair out of his eyes, making his ears move back with his hair only for them to fall in his face again. You feel desperate for any help though right now, so you nudge the larger hybrid with your elbow. He glares at you but then sighs and starts speaking.

“I’ll answer for her.” he sighs.

You sigh out in relief not processing what he’s saying then either. You don’t process anything that anyone’s saying for a few moments until you hear your name called again.

“Since Jaehyun seems to be a great help to you, you two will be partnering for the final project.” your teacher comments before moving to the next topic.

You turn to the larger dog hybrid and glare through him. He returns a similar look to you but there’s an edge of something else you can’t quite pin. When the class ends you’re still thinking about his comment from the other day, and now also the slight glint of something else in the glare he sent you.

As you quickly walk down the hallway on the way to your next class you feel someone grab your shoulder and attempt to turn you. The moment you see who it is you’re ready to growl at him. You’ve already seen Jaehyun’s face enough today, you do every day having to share a majority of your classes with the insufferable brunette dog. Your ears point straight forward alert to your surroundings.

“What the fuck do you want, dog?” you growl at him.

“Your number.” he deadpans, you’re shocked by his statement, sighing he explains, “Look, he made us partners for the final project. If you want to do it and get a decent grade on it we need to have some sort of communication. I don’t want to talk to you, you don’t want to talk to me. At the end of the day though, we’re classmates, we need to communicate if we want to pass that project.”

“Fine, give me your phone.” you grumble, hating that you agreed with his logic. “We also have summer training the same week for the fall season. I guess I should be able to talk to you and try to come to some sort of agreement regarding the field.”

“Oh, pup,” he chuckles, “we both know you’re too stubborn to give up a day on your precious track.” You don’t respond, you just shove his phone into his chest with an offhanded comment that he needs to text you so you have his number too. Turning on your heel you quickly shuffle away towards your next class before you’re marked late. You can hear his horrible chuckle as you walk away clearly angered by his words.

The whole rest of the day you tap your pencil or fingers on a desk out of annoyance. You dread having to work on a literature project with the person you hate most. During your last class of the day, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. You aren’t supposed to have phones out during class but this teacher also doesn’t care much. Reaching into your pocket you check what it is, you suppress another growl seeing the notification.

Unknown Number

|| Hey it’s Jaehyun. Come over to my place after school so we can work on the lit project.

You quickly change the contact name and respond to him.

You

|| Send me your address and I’ll come at like 3 or something.

Dickhead

|| Don’t worry about that, my older friends Doyoung and Taeyong drive. I’ll just tell them I need to take you with us.

You

|| Doyoung as in the bunny hybrid the grade above us and Taeyong as in that senior ragdoll hybrid? The ones who are dating?

Dickhead

|| They aren’t dating but yes those two. They’ll give you a ride with me. I doubt you want to ride the bus home just to walk to my place.

You

|| That’s suspiciously nice of you…

Dickhead

|| Accept it before I change my mind.

You groan and turn to where the Newfie is sitting across the room and nod at him. Though you hate the idea of spending more time than you need to with the other, you knew it had to happen for this last-minute project. You watch how a slightly smug smirk makes his way to his lips as he watches you nod at him. Immediately after he unlocks his phone again, you assume to text those older friends to tell them what’s happening. For the rest of the class, you sit there still very annoyed with the arrangements assigned to you. You knew that if you had presented your scent would be rather sour or bitter, whatever quality was the opposite of it normally. You hardly pay attention to the lesson, it was hardly worth it with the school year coming to a close within the next few weeks. As soon as the bell rings signaling the end of the academic day you get up ready to run out of the room. You would’ve made it out too if it wasn’t for a very broad body stepping in your way. You run face-first into their chest with an ‘oof’ before looking up to see Jaehyun again smirking at you.

“Did you forget I’m taking you home?” he questions lowly.

“No, I was just hoping to avoid you longer.” you huff, “I could’ve probably found you loitering around the school somewhere once everyone cleared out.”

“Yeah, okay pup, let’s go. Doyoung is waiting by the front lobby for us. Taeyong’s already in the car cooling it off.”

“Stop calling me that.” you grit, “I’m not a pup.” “But aren’t you?” he questions, “You’re not exactly very big.” You growl lowly, “I’m a Basenji. I’m not meant to be as fucking huge as you are.”

You speed ahead of him despite not really knowing where you’re going. You vaguely know what Doyoung looks like, he’s a dutch rabbit, he has tall brown-grey ears on top of his head, his hair always remaining a deep inky color. When you see him though you also get grabbed by the Newfie hybrid behind you. You try to jerk your arm out of his grasp but it’s no use. You look up at the taller bunny and try to be amicable but it’s hard when Jaehyun has a death grip on your bicep.

“Jae let her go.” Doyoung sighs, “It’s nice to finally meet you. He talks a lot about you.”

“Huh?” you ask slightly baffled by his words.

“I do not!” Jaehyun fights back, shoving Doyoung slightly,  “I only complain about her.”

Doyoung starts slowly walking away, “Whatever helps you sleep at night puppy. Come on, Yongie is waiting for us.” You chuckle slightly and lean toward Jaehyun, “You’re sure they’re not dating?”

“I’m sure. Taeyong is practically attached to his girlfriend at the hip.” he chuckles back.

You continue walking and think for a moment, that was the first positive interaction you’ve had with him. At least the first one as far as you can remember. It felt nice, it almost felt right to be kind and playful with him. The entire walk to the car you watch how Doyoung’s ears twitch in different directions subconsciously listening to all the sounds around him. When Jaehyun starts whining about the heat of late spring, Doyoung decides to chime in as well. It’s quickly evident that neither of them enjoys the heat very much. Jaehyun’s fur is far too thick on his ears and tail which in turn causes more sweat to pool on his legs and face from the extra layer of warmth on his skin. Doyoung just doesn’t enjoy it because he’s freshly presented and hates how he can smell everything around him so clearly and wants nothing to do with it. He also whines about how it being bunny mating season doesn’t help.

By the time you reach the car, you’re laughing and smiling with the two boys. You see a much more petite framed kitty hybrid in the driver’s seat happily soaking in the sun’s rays through the windshield. Doyoung rounds the car and plops himself in the front passenger seat. He quickly greets his kitty friend and they start talking about their days.

“Bag.” Jaehyun states.

“Bag?” you question.

“Give me your bag. I’ll put it in the trunk for you.” he clarifies.

“Oh, um, thanks.” you respond unsurely, “Here, just be careful my laptop is in there.”

“Mhm, I wasn’t planning on throwing it, don’t worry. You can take whatever side you want. I don’t care either way.”

Nodding at him you climb into the seat behind Doyoung and introduce yourself to Taeyong. He has soft grey and white ears on his head. They twitch slightly, though you don’t know what it means you can assume that it’s something good. The bright smile that rests on his lips only solidifies the idea of him being happy right now.

“You know, Jaehyun likes you a lot more than he lets on.” Taeyong comments offhandedly.

“He hates me.” you correct.

“He doesn’t,” Doyoung adds, “he really likes you a lot.”

Before you can ask any more questions Jaehyun climbs into the car and says hi to his oldest friend. Taeyong immediately meets his hello with a warning that he better not shed on the car. In reality, though, Taeyong should be the one worrying about shedding the most, especially with his pale-colored fur. The ride to Jaehyun’s home was actually enjoyable. With the windows down, and the breeze hitting your face you couldn’t have been more comfortable. 

You’ve never really minded the heat but both Doyoung and Jaehyun insisted that the windows be put down when there was perfectly functional air conditioning in the car. Taeyong whined about it at first saying he’d rather have the AC on and enjoy the sun coming through the windows. The first few minutes were slightly awkward, especially since you didn’t personally know the older two hybrids in the car. 

They didn’t seem to mind your presence though, they seemed to enjoy it. Though your mind did still wander to what they had said to you before Jaehyun joined you in the back seat. What did they mean by him liking you a lot more than he lets on? He treats you like an enemy, there was no way that you could ever think of him liking you, even in the slightest. You stay in your thoughts for the whole drive to Jaehyun’s home. You aren’t broken from your thoughts until you feel someone nudge you. Shaking your thoughts off you look to your left and see Jaehyun with a seemingly content smile resting on his lips.

“Come on. I promise my parents don’t bite.” he jokes lightly before climbing out of the car and grabbing your bags.

Doyoung turns around in his seat and looks at you for a moment, “Don’t let his competitive feistiness cover for what he feels. We’ve known him for years, we know how he is.”

You simply nod and get out of the car, you see how Jaehyun’s tail wags while walking towards his front door. Somehow you find a smile growing on your face watching him. Maybe this won’t be as bad as you assumed it to be. Still, you keep that facade of hatred over your emotions to be safe rather than sorry. You take note of a car sitting in the driveway, a rather nice one at that. Then finally after you finish surveying your surroundings your eyes fall back on Jaehyun, he’s waiting for you. His smile still resting on his face, only wider than before. You walk rather quickly to catch up to him before speaking.

“Why do those two take you home if someone’s here?” “Hmm?” he then notices how you gesture towards the car, “Oh, dad normally isn’t home this early. Normally he stays late at work. Mom doesn’t get home for another hour or two though depending on how traffic is.”

You nod in response, “Also, do you not drive yet?”

He shakes his head, his floppy brown ears swaying back and forth with the motion, “I turned sixteen in February but I still only have my permit. I’ll get my license on my seventeenth birthday.” he pauses for a second, “Actually no, my parents always go out on my birthday, I’ll probably get it the day after or something.”

He gently pushes the door open and steps inside. His home is actually rather comforting, you can smell the mixture of his parents’ scents in the home. Though, his father’s is much stronger, which makes sense considering that he’s home. The first visual thing you take in is the pictures of them all over the walls. Approaching one you notice it’s from his kindergarten graduation. A soft smile creeps up onto your face seeing it. His ears are clearly far too large for his body still, his smile is over-exaggerated and shows off the empty gap where a front tooth should be. His dad, you notice, is a German Sheppard while his mom is a Newfie like him. Moving down the hall you find more pictures like this each one of them you can feel the love and happiness radiating. The one that captures you the longest though is one that was done by a professional photographer. It looks to be around the time of early middle school, maybe sixth grade, his parents are throwing leaves around him and you can practically hear the giggles coming from the young Jaehyun in the picture. It’s something you can’t help but feel comforted by.

“Hey, I need to go talk to my dad for a minute, the kitchen is right through that archway if you want any snacks or a drink.” he offers, his dimples showing when he smiles again.

You nod and watch him disappear up the stairs, you continue to wander through the living room area for a while, amused by looking at all the family pictures. It’s clear that Jae is an only child, it seems that he’s also one of the only younger ones in the extended family too. There was one boy in the pictures you did vaguely recognize but you didn’t think too hard about it. All you noted was that you had definitely seen those spotted ears before somewhere.

“You enjoy looking at all my family photos?” you hear a deeper voice behind you.

You jump slightly and turn around to see Jaehyun descending the stairs, “Just admiring the effort put into decorating around here.” “Mom really prides herself on decorating and making it comfortable in here. She always jokes that it’s her omega urges… kinda grosses me out but I know she does love making it homey and safe here for me.” he laughs lightly, “Dad said it’s cool to work in my room.” “Huh?” you question slightly shocked that he had offered that.

“My computer is up there. We’ll need to do research and stuff, I don’t want to overwork your laptop. I took your bag up when I went to go talk to him, I hope that was okay.”

“Oh, um, yeah, we can do that.”

He hums slightly and turns around to walk back towards the stairs, this time you follow. You can see that his mom does love making this place feel comfortable. Not a single place seemed bland, everything was made to feel safe no matter if it was a space on the wall or if it was a house plant sitting on a small table in the hallway. You chuckle under your breath slightly as you pass by a rather awkward school photo hanging on the wall. It’s clearly from before he hit his growth spurt or started playing soccer. He looks rather scrawny and shy in that picture but still, it’s charming somehow.

“And here’s my room.” he announces rather unceremoniously.

He throws the door open and immediately moves to flop belly first onto his bed. You tentatively step into the room and again take in your surroundings. His bed was pushed against the middle of the far wall, to the left of it you take note of his dresser and closet, and to the right is where his computer is set up. A few energy drink cans sit on the desk there seemingly empty. On the opposing wall, his work desk is set up and a textbook lies open there. You walk toward the desk and notice that it’s a child development textbook, college level.

“Can I ask you something?” you ask taking a seat in his desk chair.

“That seems a little friendly to me but go for it.” he responds, turning his head towards you to show he’s listening.

“You said your parents go out on your birthday every year. Why do they just leave you here, on your birthday of all days? It seems a little cruel.”

“Oh, my birthday is Valentine’s Day, when I was little they would spend it with me, and my grandparents would come too. When I got older though they decided that we can just have an early dinner and then they would go out for their date.” he lets out a sigh, you can tell he isn’t keen on the plan his parents had chosen.

“That’s not right,” he picks his head up and tilts it in confusion, “It’s not. Yeah, you’re born on Valentine’s Day but you’re still their child, you should come before any dates they want to have.”

He chuckles lightly and rolls onto his side, “You know, for hating me, you sure are trying to make me feel better.”

“You didn’t let me finish.” he gestures for you to continue, “I was going to add that I see why you’re so insufferably competitive, your dad’s a German Sheppard but that’s off-topic.”

“Is that it?”

“It makes sense,” you scoff, “anyway let’s work on this project.”

“Do you even know what topic we’re doing?”

You feel your ears move back in slight embarrassment, you had no idea what the project was on. That nauseating smirk grows on his face knowing that you didn’t know what was happening. He moves to sit up crossed legs in the center of his bed, head still tilted as if he’s completely innocent. You have half the mind to walk out of the house and all the way home because of his snarky attitude. He finally does explain what it’s on and though you aren’t thrilled with the topic you both know you need to do it to pass the course. 

He gestures for you to come to sit beside him on the bed. Though you hate the idea of sitting within five feet of him you do need to have him look at your laptop when you’re doing initial research. As you begin researching your topic you hardly notice how time passes. You do notice other habits of Jaehyun’s. You’ll never say it out loud but many of the habits you find rather adorable. He has a specific habit of playing with the tips of his puppy ears when he’s frustrated or focused. When you called him out on it he explained that it’s been a habit for years that he couldn’t seem to break. He also chews on his lip when he’s trying to find the right words to say or write down. Again, you’ll never admit how attractive you find it.

By the time you finally look away from your small laptop screen you notice that it’s dark out. You also become aware of your surroundings again, you can now smell that his mom is physically in the house. You also note that it smells like she or his dad is cooking something. You let out a sigh thinking about the fact that you have to walk home, both your parents are working night shifts this week in preparation for their research team fieldwork. Jaehyun’s eyes are on you but for a few moments, you don’t look back at him.

“You okay? You look like you’re thinking about a lot.”

“No, just planning my walk home. My parents aren’t home tonight.”

Just as Jaehyun was about to respond you can hear his mom calling upstairs for him to come down for dinner. From the sound of it, you don’t think that his dad told her that you’re here too. He gives you a tight-lipped smile and asks you to come down to dinner with him. He claimed it would be cruel if he didn’t offer you food with how long you’ve been here. When you reach the kitchen you see a rather beautiful woman with ears just like Jaehyun’s leaned over the stove making sure the last of the food was cooked properly. The brunette canine walks up to her placing a kiss on her cheek.

“Hi mom,” he smiles sweetly, “I don’t think dad told you. I have a guest.”

She gasps and immediately turns around and gives you one of the brightest smiles you’ve ever seen, “Oh, your girlfriend?”

You blush hotly, “No, we’re just partners for a project.”

She hums in response.

“I know that hum,” Jaehyun comments grabbing plates out of a cabinet, “What are you not saying?”

“Nothing, just a mother’s instincts.”

Jaehyun doesn’t push further and continues setting the table quietly. You have no idea what to do or where to stand so you just awkwardly stand by the doorway with your hands clasped together in front of you. You swear that Jaehyun’s mom has a sense for your emotions, it would make sense with her being an omega, it’s just foreign to you. With both your parents being betas you never truly got the nurturing effects that kids with omega parents get. She walks towards you and takes your hands in hers. Her smile lines show near her eyes but still hardly give away her age. She doesn’t say anything but guides you over to the fridge.

“What would you like to drink, dear?” she offers gently.

“Oh, just water, I need to stay healthy for the summer training coming up.” you respond.

“You’re an athlete too? Jae why didn’t you say anything?”

He just shrugs and moves the food over to the table. You explain to her what sport you participate in and that you’re actually training the same week as Jaehyun this year. She continues to ask questions about it all and about school. You know she’s probing slightly trying to figure out something but you don’t let it bother you. After all, you’re a random girl in her house hanging out with her only child. Dinner is rather pleasant, his dad does eventually come down. It amused you seeing his mom chastise his dad for being too deep into work and not eating properly. You can see a lot of both of them in Jaehyun. He’s definitely nurturing like his mom, you see how he is towards his teammates. He definitely gets his determination and work ethic from his dad. You’ve only met him this one time but you can tell he’s a very hard-working man.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking,” his dad starts, “are your parents coming to get you?” “Oh, um-”

“I was going to ask if we could take her back home.” Jaehyun interrupts before shoving a spoonful of food in his mouth.

“I guess I can do that!” his mom responds, “Are you staying much later?”

“We need to do more work on the project.”

“Wow, your voice got so deep all of a sudden.” his mom sarcastically comments.

You giggle lightly, “He is right, we wanted to finish the outline tonight. It won’t be long though, we only have a page left to do.”

You explained after that both your parents were working and they immediately understood. Neither of them wanted you walking home in the dark, especially with you not having your phone on you. You finished the meal not long after and helped Jaehyun wash the dishes though his parents insisted that you didn’t need to do anything. You nearly killed him when he put a handful of bubbles on your ears. He quickly apologized and wiped them off with a dish towel though. He just found it adorable how you acted when you got mad at him.

After cleaning you returned to his room and worked on your project. You didn’t process how tired you were though. You moved so your back was rested against his headboard and pillows making it much more comfortable for you to work. He joined you not long after whining that he couldn’t see what you were working on. You knew you were a little tired but you must’ve overestimated your ability to still work. You feel your head fall to the side onto Jaehyun’s shoulder but you can’t be bothered to move. You aren’t sure when you fell asleep or for how long but when you wake up the first thing you hear is his voice. You don’t bother opening your eyes yet though.

“It’s not anything mom, she was tired and I didn’t want to be rude and wake her up.”

“Jae, you know I know. You two are very much like how dad and I were at your age… just minus the fake hate.” she pokes. “Mom, it’s nothing.” he insists, “I still need to do this last bullet point before we leave anyway.”

Now you decide to start shifting around against his arm. You feel him tense under your movement but doesn’t purposely wake you up. Finally, opening your eyes you look up at him. He looks like he froze at that moment. You just sit up and look at the laptop screen as if nothing happened.

“You got a lot done!” you enthuse, “Thanks for letting me sleep, you could’ve woken me up and sent me home.”

“It’s, um, it’s nothing. I just need to write this last bullet point and then mom said she can take you home.”

You hum a reply back and begin reading everything over. You don’t think about the close distance between you two, maybe it’s exhaustion maybe it’s something else but you don’t address it.

August before Junior Year

The end of the school year came and went, you actually were invited to the graduation ceremony this year. Over the past month, with Taeyong and Doyoung giving you rides to Jaehyun’s home, you had grown rather close and Taeyong wanted you to come to the ceremony. Doyoung cried but he’ll never admit it. You’ll never tell Taeyong how his bunny best friend sobbed and babbled about how his older friend was going to uni and was going to be too busy to hang out.

Summer training started slowly, the week of straight practice starts tomorrow. As of the past month or so it’s only been practices two or three times a week for a few hours. You did, however, notice that Jaehyun has been missing from practices for the past week. Not that you were keeping track. You debated asking that upperclassman Jungwoo if he knew. Jungwoo was co-captain this season and seems to be thriving in that position. You could also text the Newfie hybrid but that seems like it would be crossing a line. Sure you did that massive project together and you went to his house every day through May and the beginning of June but that doesn’t make you friends.

Before your thoughts could run too far from you hear a familiar voice you haven’t heard in a few days. It’s Jaehyun, he smells different though. You notice how his teammates crowd him, Jungwoo tries to diffuse it though, and tells them that he needs to catch the other captain up.

“You seem distracted.” your snowhare friend says while nudging you.

“Hmm? Oh, no it’s just weird how Jaehyun disappears for a week and then comes back as if nothing happened.”

She chuckles, “You notice something I don’t? He seems the same to me, the only difference is that he built a little extra muscle over the summer training sessions.”

“I smell… macadamia nuts.” you say trying to pin where it’s coming from.

She just brushes off your comment as if it’s nothing and lets you know that the other track and field athletes got all the field equipment needed.  You nod but are still fixated on trying to find where that foreign scent is coming from. Today was a prep day to make sure you had a starting headcount for people and an inventory of the equipment you have. For the majority of the day, the scent fills your nose, it doesn’t seem to bother anyone else though. It doesn’t help that today the soccer team is using the field to do their inventory and headcount, again without your knowledge. Your eyes keep wandering over to Jaehyun, you can pin why they do but it happens. It’s not until a few of the soccer boys come walking over, Jaehyun among those boys. As they approach the scent gets stronger but again no one else seems to notice besides you. You shake your head trying to brush it off and continue counting the discuses and separating them by weight. Your hare friend snickers beside you and you give her a confused look.

“Don’t look now but it looks like your mortal enemy is walking this way.” she comments, then turns back to separate the standard javelins from the lightweight ones.

You groan but do notice that they have a trajectory that leads directly to you. Instead of addressing it, you choose to go about your business and continue doing inventory. Still the closer they draw the stronger the nutty scent becomes. You nearly lose count of the discuses as the scent grows impossibly stronger. Then a shadow covers you. Looking up from your seat on the track you see Jaehyun towering over you.

“It’s you!” you exclaim.

“Huh?” the Newfie replies, “I was going to come over here and see if you guys need or wanted help, we’re done doing everything we need to do here.”

You don’t respond, you just stare at the larger dog hybrid for a few moments silently.

“Hello, pup, you there?” he teases.

“It’s you, you’re the one who smells like macadamia nuts.”

“That would be my scent, yes.”

“Learn how to use a scent blocker when you’re around me.” you hiss.

“I, um, hate to break it to you, but I can hardly smell him.” You glare at her slightly, “You can’t smell that pungent nut smell? Whatever, no we don’t want your help.”

“You were so nice to me a few weeks ago, what happened?” he questioned, he almost sounded hurt.

“It’s training season.”

He turns around and leaves, you finish up the rest of the inventory rather quickly after and send everyone home. Your friend drives you home and you start to feel a little feverish, you blame it on the summer heat. You couldn’t get sick right now with a week of training laying right ahead of you. The moment you arrive at your home she yells that she’ll pick you up at eight tomorrow morning to ensure that you would be on time.

You hardly touch your food that night at dinner, starting to feel more feverish as the night went on. Still, you prep everything you need for the next day to avoid any rushing first thing in the morning. Laying in bed that night you toss and turn the entire time. Jaehyun’s scent is still in the forefront of your mind. The heat coursing through your body was becoming unbearable. Then it hits you, you’re presenting.

“Are you ready?” your friend asks through the phone at just past 7:30.

“I don’t think I can come to practice.” you admit.

“What I’m coming over, you’re talking nonsense.”

You don’t know how long it takes her to get to your house, your sense of time and reality is warped. When you look towards your door and see it opening though you see her long ears peeking in. She stumbles back for a second.

“Well, you presented.” she says still trying to adjust to the strong scent of vanilla.

“Yeah,” you whine, “I’m not in any condition to practice.”

“I’ll cover the captain duties this week, and I’ll email you the practice schedule so you have it for when this is all done.”

You simply groan, nod, and roll back over hoping the pain and fever would subside soon. The only things you could focus on were the pain you were feeling and the thought of Jaehyun’s scent. You couldn’t figure out why you were so enticed by his scent. You were starting to think that he triggered your presentation with his. You don’t know if he’s officially a beta or an alpha but what you do know is that you want to be completely surrounded by his scent more than anything right now.

You had presented as an omega, the only reason that shocked you was because you have two beta parents. You had expected to be a beta too. Your scent was near enough to a beta that you could pass for one, at least until your curves set in more. You had looked letter for letter at the routines and practice you missed because of that week of pain. You knew you had a lot of catching up to do and it wasn’t going to be fun.

You had decided to get to the track early to get a few laps in before the actual practice started. To your dismay though, Jaehyun was there too. He was practicing penalty kicks, you knew he needed to work on those. He’s never been the best at them. When his scent hits your nostrils you feel like you might collapse. You blame it on being newly presented and being overly sensitive to scents around you. He sees you, smiles, and waves before going back to what he was doing. You don’t know how to reciprocate the sentiment without seeming weird or different. As you walk toward a bench to put your bag down you receive a text

Dickhead

|| You okay? You missed the entire camp last week…

You

|| Yeah, just got sick.

Dickhead

|| I don’t think you were sick… you presented. I can smell your vanilla.

You try to control your reaction to his message, it almost felt lewd in a way seeing him say that. You still can’t keep your scent from changing with every mood you had, your mom said that would come with time. Right now it was nightmarish though, everyone knew exactly how you were feeling just by being near your scent. Now, you knew Jaehyun could smell your slight embarrassment. He smiles again, and you watch him walk toward you. His curly brown ears bounced with each step. Subconsciously your tail starts wagging, you don’t know why. What was there to be so happy about? The knowledge that Jaehyun knew what you were going through last week? His smile stays plastered on his face even when he’s standing toe to toe with you. Looking up at him you don’t know where to focus. Then a sudden rush of calm runs through you. You knew Jaehyun just released pheromones, you don’t care though, they made you calm again.

“I never said vanilla was a bad thing.”

“Huh?”

“I like it.”

“And I like the macadamia nuts, it’s very nice.” you gasp and cover your mouth realizing what you just said.

Jaehyun smiles brightly at you, taking your chin in his hand, “I think we both know what’s happening.”

“I’m just overwhelmed with scents right now, I feel like I can smell everyone within a ten-mile radius.”

He sighs and pulls you into a hug, you’re completely surrounded by his scent, “We’re mates.”

“We’re what?” you ask muffled into his collarbone, “How do you know?”

“I knew before we presented. Also, not to be cocky but I’m pretty sure I triggered your presentation. My mom works for a medical team as their hybrid specialist. When you didn’t show up last Monday and then your friend mentioned you wouldn’t be here all week I asked her.”

“What exactly?” you ask again, with no intentions of leaving his embrace.

“I asked if mates could trigger each other’s cycles or presentations. She said yes but it’s only with really strongly bonded mates, regardless of what their relationship is at the time.”

You don’t say anything for a while, you just stand there in the heat of summer hugging him. In your mind, it’s not an option to break the hug. You’re so sensitive to everything still and Jaehyun’s scent is keeping all of that away right now. Hesitantly, he reaches a hand up to touch your ears. The last time he tried this you nearly bit his hand off, now, you melt into the touch and let him pet you. The sweet moment doesn’t last though, internally you blare with an alarm and break out of his hold. You jump back and cross your arms over your body.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something?” his voice filled with panic, his long tail curled between his legs.

“How do I know you’re not just messing with me?”

“Why would I mess with you about something as serious as being mates?”

“I still don’t like you Jaehyun, I need to go warm up. Goodbye.”

And with that, you walked to the opposite end of the benches and started stretching. The moment that everyone else arrived you started running as if your life depended on it. For the first time since your freshman year, you surpassed your snowhare friend and leave her in the dust. She tried for at least an hour to get it out of you. You just played it off as the leftovers of presenting. Your nose was still filled with an overload of scents, you could smell your friend’s gingerbread scent, it was nice but you just wanted to not smell anything at all right now.

Still, Jaehyun’s lovely macadamia nut scent flooded your senses. You’re so distracted with your thoughts you don’t process anything around you. The only thing you could focus on, other than Jaehyun, was the flurry of thoughts; what Jaehyun had just suggested to you, what both Doyoung and Taeyong had said to you the first day you met them, the implications that his mom had implied later that same night, the way you still find comfort in the memory of falling asleep on Jaehyun’s shoulder. All of it, it was too much.

You weren’t paying attention to your surroundings, you had a vague knowledge that the soccer team was doing drills on the field the track surrounded. They were getting the new recruits ready for the fall season. You’re on the brink of tears while running when a soccer ball comes flying toward you. You don’t have the time to avoid it. It hits you directly in the head causing you to tumble forward onto the asphalt. Your knees and hands are all scraped up and bleeding. The only thing you want right now is Jaehyun. You hate him, but you know he can comfort you. You sit there on the track for a moment just staring down at your hands and knees. A moment later you’re lifted and in someone’s lap. It’s Jaehyun’s you don’t need to look at him to know it. The gentle pheromones he’s letting out lull you into a state of calm again rather than panic.

Without thinking you reach up one of your injured hands and start playing with one of his fluffy brown ears. He hums slightly and lets you, if it gives you comfort that’s all he cares about right now. “You’re okay, pup. I got you.” he says in a soothing tone, “Let’s take you to the infirmary and get cleaned up.”

You just nod against his chest and let him hold you like that. You’re vulnerable, you had always been known to hate Jaehyun and now here you are being held by him like a child. Even when he stands to let his coach and yours know that he would take you to get cleaned and bandaged, you try to communicate that you can walk and he is having none of that. He insists that he can carry you and you shouldn’t have to walk while injured.

The walk there is quiet. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you with questions and conversation when you’re not completely present. You don’t say a word because you’re still far too lost in your mind. You arrive at the infirmary and still, you don’t say a word. He gathers the material to clean out your wounds, silently. He takes your hands in his and cleans them thoroughly before putting large bandaids on each heel of your hand. Finally, against his better judgment, he knew he needed to ask you at least this one thing.

“Why don’t you like me?”

“Hmm, I don’t like you because you don’t like me.” you say in a soft tone.

He hums in acknowledgment as he presses an alcohol-soaked cotton ball to your knee, and you hiss at the feeling. “I never said I didn’t like you. When we were in middle school I might’ve taken my teasing too far and made you think that though. If I’m being honest, I really like you. I kept up this back and forth with you for so long because I didn’t know how to approach you without getting my head bit off.” he confesses

Hearing that made you come back to the present moment fully, “Jae,”

“Yeah, pup?” he asks, looking up at you from where he sat on the floor.

You don’t say anything else, you lean down and press your lips against his. You hold his face with your bandaged hands hoping to hold him in the kiss longer. He smiles against your lips and kisses you back softly. Though you want to keep kissing him longer he pulls away. Tilting your head you ask a silent question. He chuckles when he notices how your one ear flops to the side with your movement.

“I would absolutely love to kiss you again, but I am trying to clean out your cuts. I don’t want you hurting more than you need to.”

“Fine,” you playfully sigh, “only if you promise to kiss the cuts better later. They were your fault.”

“How were they my fault?” he asks with an exaggerated sigh, “You know I will though.”

“You’re distracting, and it was your teammate that kicked that ball.”

He huffs slightly, his tail smacking the floor for extra effect, “Keyword: teammate. It wasn’t me that kicked that ball, not my fault.”

You smile, down at him as he tediously removes and pebbles that got stuck in your skin and dab it clean with the alcohol cotton balls. Your hands still throb slightly trying to recuperate from the shock of falling. You don’t mind though and reach your hands into his hair tussling the wavy hair and scratching the base of his ears. His tail immediately reacts and starts wagging.

“Thank you.” he says, lip caught between his teeth in focus.

“For petting you?”

“For loving me back.”

“If you just spoke up sooner we could’ve been dating for a long time now.” you tease.

“It’s not my fault you’re fucking scary.”

You gasp in fake shock and he beams at you again as he discards the trash. He immediately returns and scoops you up into his arms hugging you tight to his body. Your tail wags violently behind you, the curled bit hitting against your lower back. You can feel the happiness radiating off of him as he hugs you. You hope he can feel the same coming from you. As he places you back down on the ground he places a wet kiss on your cheek. You make a noise of disgust wiping his saliva off your face and onto his t-shirt.

“I hate you.”

“I love you too, pup.” he giggles, placing a soft peck on your lips.

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