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vagabond-umlaut · 1 year

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ramé 2.0

love.

a word everyone spells as l-o-v-e, except one certain young sorcerer – to whom it appears h-a-p-p-y, to whom it appears h-a-v-o-c – to whom it appears the shape of the letters of your name.

you, on the other hand, forget how to spell when the same word is before you – a fact which, your admirer reckons, would have been a major problem were he not he – that is, were he not the one and only 'gojo satoru'.

and thus begins, the plan.

and thus begins, the six steps to catch one's crush's eye — by the six eyes.

|2/6| display your strengths.

[READ 1.0 HERE!]

▸ student!gojo satoru x student!reader; fem!reader; satoru tries to amp up his game but you don't let him, amping up 'your' game instead - something clear as day to all but you [why're you like this? so cute, so smart but so oblivious *smh*]; fluff & humor & adorable banter ft. the student ensemble from '05 [when times were happier, when times were brighter, when- *breaks down sobbing in new jjk s2 trailer noises*]

▸ this was supposed to be posted on wednesday... damn you mappa for forcing me to post this on sunday itself. [also, did you look at the loml? he looks so... ugh. i can't even describe the numbing effect that shades-wearing idiot [my our shades-wearing idiot] has on me.

▸ find other parts of 'ramé' and other [stand-alone] fics set in the same universe as this work here! anyways, image, divider & characters ain't mine. pls don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

being a show-off is what gojo's the best at - besides yearning for you from afar, that is.

a wide grin stays on his face as he watches you approach him, a tad ahead of your classmates - two boys, nanami kento and haibara yu.

being in the first year, neither of you three can take part in the kyoto sister-school goodwill event - that doesn't stop you all from being spectators, though - which is what's enough for the gojo's plans.

a call of his name drags him away from gazing at you - you look good in that tee of his, you accidentally shrunk in the laundry - and twists back to find his teacher frowning at him.

the second-year finds it hard to wear the same grin. "yo yaga sensei, what's up?"

the man lets out a long-drawn sigh.

"don't overdo it, satoru," he says - the boy opens his mouth, ready to retort with a quip - only to be stopped by an unfamiliar expression overcoming the teacher's features.

it's a horrific insult of a smile, the young sorcerer realizes after a beat.

yaga, meanwhile, continues with that same expression, "i too was young once. i can understand what you're going through now - which is why i won't stop you from showing your talents to her or whatever. just... remember no one should die."

a quiet nod is all the boy manages in reply, too overwhelmed for a bit by the fatherly care yaga insists on giving him despite the annoyance suguru and he equally insist on being to their sensei.

with a pat on the shoulder, yaga leaves in the direction of the other faculty and staff. schooling his expression, gojo shoots suguru a look.

"hey suguru, how did yaga get to know about me and her?"

"who is her, gojo senpai?" a sweet voice chips in, soon followed by your teasing grin floating into his line of vision.

the boy averts his gaze for a beat - flustered by the sheer proximity between both of your faces which could be closed were he not such a coward, stop smirking, suguru - before sending you a wounded look.

"since when did i become gojo senpai to you?"

"since today," you reply with a tight smile. gojo doesn't like it one bit on your face. "i've been asked by the higher-ups to act professional with you."

a moment passes - wherein the boy registers the statement - before red flashes in his vision. placing his hands on your shoulders, he asks, or rather, demands to know, "did they hurt you? or threaten you? give me their names. who were those fucking bastards?"

brows furrowing, you place your much smaller hands atop his. "relax. nothing happened," you whisper, so quiet only he can hear it, "they don't have the guts or power to hurt or threaten me. all they told me is to, i quote, refrain from calling you such terms of endearment again. and i was like, okay."

a small smile settles on your lips as you take his hands in yours and start rubbing circles into them. the boy feels a lot of his tension drain away. smile brightening (you too seem to have realized the effects of this gesture on him), you add, "plus, it's only four years. once we've both graduated, i can get back to calling you whatever i want to call. those old geezers can't direct me then."

"they still can't now..." gojo begins - then stops.

with that bootlicker eldest brother you have, those old rats can now.

you give him a tired smile, words unneeded to confirm that the both of you are indeed cursing the same set of people now.

you open your mouth to say something - funny probably, if the shine in your eyes was anything to go by - before a muted cough pops the bubble you two had unconsciously slipped into.

and with an entertained smirk at the boy, who immediately seperates your linked hands, shoko informs, "sensei's calling for you, gojo. the competition's about to begin."

acknowledging her with a brief nod, gojo returns his focus to you, looking for a sliver of fear or anxiety in your face - one he'll soothe away with a gentle smile and maybe, just maybe, a forehead kiss - only for all his dreams to be dashed in the dirt.

you're peering up at him, beaming excitedly.

"go, beat 'em, senpai," you cheer him with a fist pump. an amused snicker sounds somewhere behind. your zeal doesn't budge one bit. "go, kick those kyoto students' asses. i know you will win."

and win, your white-haired senpai does - nothing new it it.

and you too seem to be very happy at it - again nothing new in it.

'cause when do you not congratulate him with a blinding beam every time the boy is successful - be it at making those pretty origami stars the way you taught him to; or at defeating a weakass sorcerer in a lame match.

however what is new is the fact you've grown rather competitive - not that gojo minds it in the slightest, though. quite the contrary, in fact.

"aren't you being a little too confident?" you inquire, throwing him a peeved glance, "every opponent you face in the future won't be as weak as those two kyoto boys today. you sure you'll stay invincible then too?"

resting his chin on the chair he is straddling, the second-year smirks, "any way you can prove i won't, shortie?"

geto sends him a questioning look while ieiri looks away from them to the scenery outside, giving a long sigh. his other two kouhais, nanami and haibara, pause in their game of cards to look at you, confusedly.

gojo observes you ignore them, eyes trained on him only, lips curving slowly into a sharp grin. gods, can you get any lovelier than this?

"well..." you drawl, keeping your focus on him. a flush creeps up the sides of his neck, which he earnestly hopes goes overlooked by you.

it doesn't go overlooked by your too-serious classmate, though - gojo spots nanami's eyes widen for a mere instant before reverting to their typical indifference.

you continue, grin simmering to a daring smile now, "why don't you find it out on your own tomorrow? twelve noon. practice field. what do you think, senpai?"

the sorcerer pretends to take a moment to regard your proposal, then shrugs. "sure, why not? sounds good enough to me."

with a wordless nod, the boy watches you return to the video game you were playing with his best friend - then look back at him on your name being called. an eyebrow rises in silent question.

seeing that the cue, he asks, "but what will the loser have to do?"

the reply comes with a smirk, your eyes dropping to your game. "you can buy me the latest version of this game. that'll be fine, i guess."

gojo was wrong - said person realizes as he watches the orange-red glow seep in through the window and render you an ethereal glow.

your competitiveness isn't the only thing new to him this evening.

your ability to make him even more head over heels for you than the boy already is (an impossible feat, really, given the chains and locks guarding him within, apart from the layer of infinity without)...

...this is yet another new thing gojo learns about you, this evening.

▸ series: we're the summer to our winter rain

▸ masterlist

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo fic #gojo satoru #jjk fluff #jjk angst #jjk fic #jjk fanfic #jjk #kit posts 📝

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ritz-writes · 6 months

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@celestialcrowley said shed want to see some of my wing fic, and that was all the prompting i needed lmao. so heres the first 1800 words of

who needs wings when you have a boyfriend

Fandom: Good Omens (no season 2 spoilers) Relationships: Crowley/Aziraphale (pre-relationship) Tags/Warnings: injury, wing fic, angst, hurt/comfort, torture (implied/referenced), dismemberment (wings), whump, fainting, hurt aziraphale, worried crowley

Word Count: 1,876

THIS IS A WIP. It is open ended because it's not finished, and probably wont be for a long time. It is also not beta-read, so there will be errors. Do not repost anywhere else.

Aziraphale loved having Crowley over. It was his favorite activity, just talking to the demon. Just being in Crowley’s presence made him feel better, made him feel complete.

He couldn’t tell if he was distraught or relieved that Crowley wasn’t in the bookshop now.

Aziraphale had been standing in the middle of the shop for about an hour now, too scared to move. He had been called up to Heaven earlier. Gabriel was there, of course, as he always was. He always had something to nag Aziraphale about. Rightfully so, Aziraphale knew of course, though he honestly couldn’t remember what it was about this time around. But Gabriel started going on a rant about multiple chances and learning lessons.

For a moment, Aziraphale thought he was about to Fall like Crowley had. A part of him wished that was what happened. Perhaps it would have been less painful.

But instead, Gabriel took his wings.

“A necessary punishment,” he had said. “Temporary, of course.”

Angel wings couldn’t be stripped away so simply, at least not permanently. Unless God Herself took them, or someone acting on Her behalf, they would eventually grow back within a month. But an angel’s wings were more than just an extra limb. It was a part of them, a part of Aziraphale. Having them ripped away left him empty.

Not only that, but it hurt. His throat was still raw from screaming. Gabriel had been none too gentle about it, telling him it was his own fault. A part of Aziraphale believed him—why else would Gabriel being doing it, after all. Another part didn’t, the voice in his head sounding an awful lot like Crowley.

He almost felt content with just standing in the middle of his shop for the next month. The store was closed and the windows were covered. If he was lucky—or maybe it was unlucky—Crowley would be away on a mission for the next few weeks, and Aziraphale could act like nothing had happened when he returned.

Aziraphale knew it was just shock and depression. Having your wings ripped off felt like having a piece of your soul stolen. It wasn’t pleasant physically, and emotionally and mentally was a whole other thing.

He knew he should call Crowley, tell him what happened, but he couldn’t get his body to respond. And even if he could move, he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He knew as soon as he did just how badly his back would burn and ache. His legs felt numb, but he was far too scared to sit down on the couch behind him. Even the smallest brush against the fabric would be too much for him to bear.

“Angel?”

Aziraphale held back a flinch. He blinked, not having noticed Crowley entering the shop.

Crowley took off his glasses, blow furrowed as he took in the angels appearance. “You alright?”

Aziraphale opened his mouth, but no words came out. He could feel his emotions starting to come back slowly, his eyes burning.

Crowley moved closer. “Aziraphale? What’s wrong?”

“Crowley.” He meant to say more, but that was all he could manage, which seemed to make the demon more concerned.

Crowley scanned the bookshop before his gaze landed back on him. “Aziraphale, what happened? Are you hurt?”

“I got… called up to Heaven.”

Crowley’s face spasmed between anger and worry. “When?”

Aziraphale glanced to the windows, suddenly noticing the sun was no longer out. Maybe it had been a bit longer than he originally thought. “I… I’m not entirely sure, really.”

“Well, what did they want?”

Aziraphale swallowed, grimacing as the action aggravated his throat. “Gabriel. He was angry. I-I made a mistake, I think. He...” His emotions were beginning to overwhelm him, his vision starting to blur with tears. “H-He said it was a necessary punishment. Temporary.”

“Punishment? Angel, what happened?”

Aziraphale’s mouth quivered, a tear slipping down his face.

“Aziraphale.” Crowley cupped his face, gently but firmly, wiping the tear away. “What. Did he do to you?”

“He took my wings.”

He said it with such a quiet, steady tone, one that didn’t match his feelings at all. His heart was racing, mind spiraling out of control. His breathing began to slowly speed up, finally coming to terms with what happened and what he lost.

Crowley looked mortified. He said something, but Aziraphale couldn’t hear him over the sudden ringing in his ears. His wings were gone. His wings were gone. He would get them back eventually, but they were gone.They were ripped from him, and he could still feel the burn of the pain, the agony etched into his brain and back. He felt like he was going to throw up or pass out.

He didn’t realize his body had picked the latter until his legs buckled and his vision went dark.

Distantly, he could hear Crowley yell his name.

---

Aziraphale floated along the edge of awareness. All his senses were watered down, though he didn’t really mind it. Having them muddled meant he couldn’t feel his back.

When he finally started to float back up to consciousness, he tried to fight it. He didn’t want to be awake or aware. He just wanted to stay in his little void until his wounds healed, or maybe until his punishment was over.

But there was an oh so familiar voice calling his name softly, a voice he never could figure out how to ignore.

Aziraphale groaned, nearly a whine, into the pillow against his cheek, squeezing his eyes shut as his nerves came back online.

“Angel? You with me?”

Aziraphale made a noise of disagreement.

Crowley hummed in understanding. “Yeah, I’m sure. How’re you feeling?”

Aziraphale took a breath and cracked open his eyes. He was on his stomach, arms at his sides, laying on something soft that certainly wasn’t his sofa. His eyes blurred then focused, Crowley’s face coming into view. His hair was rustled and his glasses were off.

“Awful,” he answered, throat raw. He closed his eyes again, trying very hard to ignore the burn on his back. “What am I laying on?”

“Miracled a bed after you took a swan dive,” Crowley explained. “Since you still haven’t gotten one.” He blew out a large breath. “Right. I need to take off your shirt now.”

Aziraphale’s eyes flew open. “I beg your pardon?”

“I need to see the…” He gestured over Aziraphale’s back.

Aziraphale paled, unable to look Crowley in the eyes. “Ah.” He shifted, then winced, barely holding back a yell from the pain. “Why didn’t you just do it when I was asleep?”

“Unconscious,” Crowley corrected tightly. “And I’m a demon, not an animal. Wasn’t gonna without your permission. Besides, I can’t actually take your wings out myself. You have to do it.”

Aziraphale frowned and pressed his face farther into the pillow. He made his decision. He much rather Crowley had been on a mission right now. Anything to keep from having to release whatever was left of his wings. “I’d much rather just ignore them, if I’m being honest.”

Crowley sighed. “I’m going to actually burn Gabriel alive for making me have to ask this, but…” He leaned forward, an expression anger and regret evident on his face. “Did he… were they cut or pulled?”

Aziraphale shut his eyes tight as the memory passed over him. The blood, the fear, the pain. “...Pulled. One was—” he held back a gag, “One was snapped, I believe.”

Crowley breathed in. “I’m going to murder him,” he growled quietly, before saying gently, “Angel, I have to look. Without your wings, you could get an infection or something. You know that.”

He did know that. Having your wings torn from you left you at the mercy of illnesses and diseases while outside of Heaven. And if they were ripped out it was more than likely going to end up infected in some way.

So, despite not wanting to, Aziraphale nodded in permission.

His waistcoat, shirt, and tie were miracled away and he had to physically stop himself from shivering, knowing it would upset his back. He slowly moved his arms up to hold onto the pillow, grunting and tearing up as he did so. After giving himself a moment, he took a few shaky breaths before commanding his wings to emerge.

He immediately had to muffled his wails with the pillow.

The pain was indescribable. There was an awful ache where his wings met his back, while the wings themselves were burning. It felt like they were on fire, even though they weren’t even there, at least not in full. By the time he fully materialized them he was panting, nearly sobbing into the pillow.

“Fuck,” Crowley breathed. “What did they do to you?”

Aziraphale knew it was a rhetorical question, but turned his face to answer anyway, if only to make the demon feel better. “It’s… it’s only t-temporary.”

“Temporary or not, this is insane!” Crowley covered his mouth with a shaky hand. “Shit.”

Aziraphale flinched, biting his tongue to hold back another cry, as Crowley laid a hand on his shoulder.

“I can’t heal it, but… I might be able to take the pain away. Not fully, but I can take the edge off at least.”

Aziraphale almost sobbed again. The pain was already unbearable, but it suddenly felt worse when presented with the option to ease it. “Yes, please, please.”

Crowley’s hand tightened on his shoulder. “It won’t be pleasant. No, scratch that. It’s gonna hurt like Hell. Literally. Only for a few seconds, but—”

“I can handle it. Just do it, Crowley, please!”

There was a beat of silence as Crowley pressed his free hand against his spine, just underneath the damage.

Then agony.

Aziraphale screamed as the burning suddenly got worse, writhing under Crowley’s hold. “I know, Angel, I know—I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Just hold still. It’s almost over.”

Aziraphale clenched his teeth, almost afraid he was going to break them. It hurt, it hurt, God it hurt so much. It felt like his wings were being stolen again, only this time they were being thrown into Hellfire while still attached to him. It danced along his feathers, his back, his bones. It tore him apart from the inside, turning him to ash. It was excruciating.

Then, just as quickly as the pain had started, it stopped.

Aziraphale’s body went limp in the bed, his body trembling in short bursts and his breaths coming in ragged and heavy. His back was blessedly numb. Well, not fully. He could still feel the pain, but it might as well have been numb when compared to how it felt before.

He turned his face away from the pillow, opening his eyes. He tried to thank Crowley, or maybe apologize for screaming, but he couldn’t get his mouth to work, only managed to let out a few garbled sounds. Everything felt hazy. His vision was hazy too, everything darkening at the edges.

Crowley leaned into view. Just like when he first showed up, Aziraphale could see his mouth moving, but couldn’t make out the words, the sound warbled and far away.

His eyes slipped closed to the feeling of a hand in his hair.

maybe if enough ppl like where this is going ill get more ideas for how to continue it. i have another 2700 words written, i just dont know how to continue it

hope yall liked this lil bit tho

#sorry not sorry hehe #good omens #good omens fanfiction #wip #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #crowley #aziraphale #whump #angst #hurt/comfort

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hongjoongscafe · 1 year

Text

Someone out there...

Part: 2 [Serieslist}

|In the attic|

Pairing: bunny!hybrid!jungkookhuman!readerxbunny!hybrid!wooyoung

Boy groups involved: BTS & ATEEZ

Genre: angst, fluff, smut, neighbour au, hybrid au.

Summary: the two bunny hybrids were terrified of the cruel world. Will they be able to live their life?

Warnings: mentions of abuse, mention of underage m*lestation, mention of r*pe.

Word count: 3k+

BTS and ATEEZ masterlist

Masterpost

Do not repost, plz

Numb. That was what Jungkook felt. The only time he was better was when he was cuddled up with Wooyoung, his partner.

They lived on Jeju Island but because of a sudden business change, their owner Kim Dal decided to move back to their old house. Jungkook and Wooyoung were not aware of this old house.

Jungkook hated all of this. He hated his owners, he hated the house they were living in. He hated the fact that he ever got adopted by the Kims. He hated his fate. This is not where he wanted to be.

It had been years since he was with them. Kim Bina was not there since the beginning or well at the time Mr Kim brought him home. He still remembered the day very well when Kim Bina first came back home with Mr Kim.

Kim Dal stumbled into the house with a skinny and tall girl in his arms. Jungkook was waiting for him to come back and serve him food. But he just saw a woman who was too young for this old man in his late forties.

She was clad in a short deep neck red satin dress. It almost looked like a night dress. Her lips were over-painted with red lipstick. Her face was tiny and her jaw was sharp. She was beautiful, Jungkook would be lying if he said otherwise. But she wasn't alone there, there was another woman behind them who was a bit more mature looking. She had light makeup on her face. And she was wearing a black dress that highlighted her big breasts and her big ass. Her eyes were red as if she had enough drinks.

“What the fuck are you looking at?!” Dal yelled at Jungkook. “Go back to your room, fucker!”

“Na- ah, he should stay,” the red dress lady said as he checked Jungkook out and bit her red lips. “He is kinda hot,” she said as she rubbed Dal’s chest.

Jungkook was disgusted. He wanted to gag. It was a better option to stay in his room rather than see this unholy scene unfold. This situation was something that he knew if he witnessed it, it would change his whole life and leave a deep trauma.

“Mhm, that thing is thicc as fuck,” the black-dress lady said. “By the way, I'm Bina.”

Jungkook couldn't care less.

“I- I th-think I'm b-better in my bed-bedroom,” he stuttered. Fearing that his master might beat him.

“Yah! You heard them! Stay the fuck here!” Dal screamed at him.

Not to mention that it all happened when he was fifteen years old. It was illegal, whatever was going on. He wasn't meant to be in the same space let alone in between them.

He begged to be left alone. He cried his heart out, screamed his lungs out. No one heard him. He was abused the whole fucking night by those filthy ladies and his master. He was a kid back then. A ray of sunshine but they snatched it and left him in the shadow of demons and monsters.

Being a bunny hybrid, he knew it was going to be hard on him. They were known to have high sexual power. But that didn't mean that enjoyed being molested and raped by these vicious people.

Everything was still.

Jungkook was sitting on the floor, naked, next to the couch where the two ladies and his master were cuddled up and sleeping. The bunny hybrid couldn't bat a lash. He could feel those hands on him. He could feel them pull his sensitive ears as they rode him. He could still feel his private being used.

He got up and walked straight into his bathroom which was nothing but a tiny little space with a bucket and a toilet and a lopsided mirror. He stood in front of the mirror and looked at his bruised face, his swollen eyes, and chapped lips covered with nude and red lipstick stains.

Jungkook's body shook with panic. He could feel his heart bursting. His nose started to bleed and tears streamed down his cheeks. As much as he wanted to scream, he couldn't so he silently cried and silently screamed and hit himself.

“Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?” he kept on asking. “Why me?!”

He fell and curled into a ball. Sooner, he shifted into his bunny form and stayed there and fell asleep on the dirty floor of his bathroom.

Since that day, this Bina-named virus has infected him till date. No matter how much Dal abused him but she was someone he was afraid of the most.

Her presence was enough to make him shiver and want to jump into a well. Her sharp eyes tore his sanity into tiny pieces. Her claw-like finger held the power of clawing his soul out from miles away.

To say the least, she was a demon that ate him up, both literally and mentally.

Bina was a personality that didn’t care about anything or anybody. She was fierce and sharp. Whenever she was showing her real colours, one could feel the chills running down their spines. She was one to be feared.

No wonder why Dal loved her so dearly.

The other woman, the red dress one– he doesn’t know what happened to her. He never saw her again. It was good that he never saw her again.

He remembered after four months from that day, Bina showed interest in getting another hybrid.

“Dal, I think we should get another one of these,” she said pointing at Jungkook who was serving dinner to his now two masters.

Jungkook’s bunny ears and eyes twitched.

“Yeah? And increase the expenses on these useless shits?” He sarcastically said.

She looked at Jungkook who was standing in the corner. His fingers fiddled in front of him. Face pouty.

“We can just, ya know, split what we give him,” she shrugged.

Jungkook’s heart dropped. He already got only one slice of bread and a tiny bottle of water to survive the day and one serving bowl of rice at night.

“You are right. I think we can use one more,” he kissed her.

The hybrid whined thinking how he is going to survive especially when they make him do a shit load of work in a day. His bunny heart trembled. He wished that his owners would change their minds.

But that never happened. Instead, that same night when he was taking his rice in his room, they told him to be ready in the morning.

“We will go get you a bastard like you. I don’t want you to be late, understand?” Dal looked at him with hate in his eyes.

“Y-yes, understood.”

In the morning when Dal opened the door of the bunny’s room, he found his weak body trembling in the corner with the fear of having another hybrid and then living in the worst conditions.

“Don’t. Fucking. Sit. There. You. Fucker!” Dal yelled. “You are making us fucking late!”

Jungkook whined and quickly followed his master with unshed tears. His heart was running so fast. He felt like he was going to faint any minute.

When they reached the shop, the three of them went inside. Jungkook quietly followed behind them with his head hung low, his ears almost covering his eyes.

They stopped in front of one tiny cabin. The employee opened the door and let them in. There was a tiny looking, giving the illusion of a half-dead man, a bunny hybrid. His ears were grey, fading to white towards his head. The tiny hybrid was trembling and turned towards the three new people in his cabin. His breath fastened, and panic was in his eyes.

“I think we should leave the hybrids with each other for a little time,” the employee recommended. “By the way, his name is Wooyoung.”

The master and Bina left the cell, leaving Jungkook behind.

Jungkook awkwardly stood there. The longer he looked at the hybrid, he started to worry about the other hybrid more than himself. He was in the worst condition.

The other hybrid’s bones were visible. It looked like he had no muscles but skin and bones. He had dark eye bags. Jungkook could tell that he was having trouble breathing.

Jungkook’s eyes filled with tears and he finally let out a sob. He slowly walked towards that hybrid and wrapped his arms around him. Surprisingly, the weaker hybrid hugged him back.

“H-Hyung?” he carefully said.

“Yeah?” Jungkook softly let out.

“Now I will have a better life, right…?” his hands fisted around the older's shirt. “Now I will get better soon too.”

Jungkook sobbed more and just hugged him more. He wasn't sure if he was trying to calm his heart by hugging the oblivious hybrid or was trying to help him feel at ease.

…

They were now moving to another place that was on the outskirts of Seoul. It was an elite place. Jungkook and Wooyoung, both were instructed to be on their best behaviour.

It was the first time that the hybrids went out of their house for the long road. Otherwise, they would go out only when they needed to buy stuff for the house. Even that was mostly prohibited because the master would bring all the necessary stuff just to make sure the hybrids wouldn't run away.

Wooyoung was looking out of the window with wide glittery eyes. He always wanted to go out and explore the world. But his fate didn't accept his happiness and threw him and his Hyung into this shithole. Every single day, he wished for a happy life for his Hyung and himself. He wanted to be with Jungkook forever. He was his love, home, the only ray for him to be alive.

The younger hybrid was well aware of the fact that Jungkook only had him and he was living just for him. They both have gone through so much. Wooyoung has seen Jungkook at his worst. And the only thread that was holding their lives was each other.

Jungkook looked at his little hope. His wide wandering eyes brought a tiny smile to the older hybrid's face. When he met the younger for the first time, he was thirteen. It wasn't that much of an age gap but for Jungkook, he was the older one and he had to take care of Wooyoung. He spent night after night making sure that Wooyoung was alright and wasn't having trouble breathing or any kind of pain.

They both were in love with each other.

They did share the food. Jungkook always gave Wooyoung the bigger portion. Although the younger one was always hesitant to take it Jungkook insisted.

However, Dal started to earn more and more. So instead of giving two bunnies one slice of bread in the day and one serving bowl of rice at night. he started giving one to each.

It wasn't enough but at least Jungkook got his older diet and Wooyoung got a full-size portion that Jungkook once had.

This tiny thing made both of them cry for hours in thankfulness.

Even now ten years later when Jungkook was twenty-five and Wooyoung was twenty-three, they both lived on that joke of a diet. It was just enough to keep them surviving.

…

It was the next morning. Jungkook and Wooyoung were in the kitchen, preparing breakfast and tea. They heard that the house next door was noisy. The hybrids flinched when they heard something breaking in the next door. They both looked out of the window that was facing your house to see if whoever was inside was okay.

“You, bitch!” Bina came into the kitchen and pulled Wooyoung’s ear harshly, making him whimper. “I asked you to fucking bring that lemon water ages ago! Where the fuck is it?!” she twisted his fragile ears.

“Ah! Madam, just two minutes. Please, sorry!” he whimpered. Jungkook's fists were clenching around the pan and the spatula.

“You two are good for nothing! All you two do is raise our bills, fuckers. Bring me the lemon water!” she yelled and stood there by the threshold of the kitchen.

Wooyoung quickly poured the water into the glass and squeezed some lemon into it. Bina hummed and snatched it from the bunny's hands.

“M-madam?” Jungkook’s tiny voice called.

“What?!” she hissed.

“W-we don't h-have milk a-and sugar…” he said.

She gritted her teeth, “why the fuck did you not tell me yesterday?”

He shrunk on his spot, “I- I did tell you.”

“Shut up!” she snarled. “Now from where the fuck am I going to bring it?”

While she was busy scolding the two hybrids, she saw you getting out of your house and locking the door. A sigh left her mouth.

“Guess we will be meeting our neighbour today,” she said and quickly walked out of the house.

Jungkook and Wooyoung saw Bina talking to you like she was the sweetest soul. It angered them. How could she be so fake? She was the devil herself. It felt like she could read their minds at times. They felt suffocated around her.

“Thank you! I’m not gonna waste your time. I just wanted some milk and sugar. My husband likes his morning tea too much but there is nothing at home except the raw tea,” she giggled nervously.

The hybrids scoffed internally. Bina and Dal were not married. They were just… there. Not married or committed. Bina didn't even live with them. She came here for a while for the moving purpose. She was supposed to return after a week. Thinking about this, Wooyoung felt annoyed and Jungkook cursed under his breath.

This was going to be the worst week.

…

The rest of the day was hectic for the hybrids. They were unpacking and putting everything in place. Dal and Bina just ordered them around. Wooyoung felt like he was taking his last breath when they were finally done for the day.

They were in the attic where they were supposed to live from then on. It was small and had four windows. One facing the front, one facing the back, one towards the side, and the last one towards your house.

There was only one twin-size bed on which they both adjusted under a thin blanket that they have been sharing since day one when Wooyoung came. But the blanket was way older than that. Jungkook took that forever.

Jungkook was looking out of the front-facing window. His past haunted him. He was scared of what the future held. He could give up, but he had a sick hybrid to look after… but what about him? Who was going to look after him? Wooyoung was worried for him but couldn’t do much. The younger hybrid was vulnerable, there wasn't much in his power. He was suffering already.

Jungkook understood that. He loved his tiny hybrid. His pure face, wide eyes, that tiny mole under his left eye… it was all adorable. His heart filled with warmth now that he was thinking about Wooyoung.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard two people talking. He peeked outside the window and saw you and one other man. He heard you two talking.

Then the man went into his house and you came closer to yours. He saw you looking at his place, and he quickly got behind so that you could not see him.

“It’s nice that you have some people living in you now, huh, house. I can’t imagine being alone like this for decades,” you talked to the house as if it had ears. But you never know. “Anyway, y/n… it’s finally the weekend. I’m gonna sleep the best.”

Your voice was soft and pleasing to Jungkook’s ears. But his hate for humankind denied it. He hated humans too much. They left huge scars on him and left him feeling depressed and abused.

“Hyung?” Wooyoung whimpered.

Jungkook quickly walked towards him and got under the blanket. “What happens?” he asked while pulling him closer.

“Chest hurts,” he cried.

Jungkook’s heart broke and pulled him even closer. His big hand landed on the younger's chest and rubbed him. He kissed his cheeks and head.

Wooyoung tilted his head, looking at Jungkook with teary eyes. The older took his face in his hand and caressed his jaw, pulling him closer and giving him a tiny peck on the lips.

“I'm right here, Woo. I won't let anything happen to you, okay?” Jungkook mumbled.

Wooyoung nodded and slowly turned into his animal form. He felt much more comfortable that way. He could snuggle his whole body in Jungkook’s hands and get caressed everywhere. The night was his favourite time just because he got to spend it with Jungkook, the love of his life.

Oblivious to the bunny, Jungkook silently cried and fell asleep while crying.

…

The next morning was no better. It was the weekend. Dal and Bina were more annoying and abusive on such days. But they had to suck it up and go through this.

The morning went by with Dal beating Jungkook because he forgot to serve the cookies along with the tea. He was a sick dog. His head was always red and ready to beat the fragile boys.

Jungkook ended up with his back bruised and a huge slash at the side of his stomach from the belt that Dal hit him with his full strength.

Wooyoung treated his Hyung with tears streaming down his eyes. He hated seeing Jungkook like this.

Jungkook was quiet.

At eleven, the four of them were in the living room. Jungkook and Wooyoung were standing in the corner. Dal had called them for a talk. The hybrids knew this was going to end up in him mentally abusing the hybrids, telling them how useless they were and that they didn't do anything right.

But before he could speak, the bell rang. Dal and Bina looked at each other.

“Are we expecting someone?” Bina asked.

“Nope,” Dal said. Then he looked at Wooyoung who shifted on his feet under Dal's gaze. “What are you waiting for? Go open the fucking door!”

Wooyoung quickly moved and went to open the door. There was a beat of silence before someone spoke up.

“Hello, I am the neighbour next door!”

.....

Sanaa's note:

Last update before the new year💓 I always appreciate your feedback💓

The behaviour of all the characters is visualized.

Taglist:

@veneziamadness @cheline @sansmilkbread @jayb17 @constantlydelulusional @8tinytings @tea4sykes ; @jhmylove

*lemme know if you wanna be added to the permanent or specific taglist*

*original picture is not mine, I just edited it*

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rose-of-the-grave · 10 months

Text

The Underworld

Pairing: Elain x Azriel

Olympus AU

This is part 2 of what I think will be a 3 part fic. Part one is called River Styx. I'm the author (please don't repost) <3

Masterlist Series Masterlist Read on Ao3

Warnings: most characters are ooc and I tried to fit them into the story so the way that I've written some of these characters does not in any way reflect how I view them, some character relationships were also changed as well as the relationships between the gods, everyone appears the same age, kissing

Word Count: 1,701

Characters: Elain=Persephone, Azriel=Hades, Nesta= Demeter, Rhysand=Zeus, Feyre=Hera, Cassian=Helios, Lucien=Apollo, Morrigan=Aphrodite

Azriel, god of the Underworld had just received his summons. Apparently his estranged brother, Rhysand, wanted to talk to him for once. It was a shame that it was all because of a young girl that he had saved, or kidnapped depending on how you see it, turned out to be a goddess. He cursed himself for not realizing it at first but in his defense whatever drugs had been in her system had numbed her powers.

Unfortunately, returning her now would not do. She intrigued him, a timid little thing who had broken the rules and ventured out into the mortal lands. Her personality did not seem like one that would belong to a rule breaker.

He vanished into the dark abyss only to come out of it in the place beyond worlds. It was a place that was separate from time, space, and death. Here, the gods were mortal, stripped of their powers but still immortal. In the distance, away from the gazebo where he stood, lightning struck.

Zeus has arrived it seemed to say.

"Long time no see big brother." Azriel greeted Rhys.

"And whose fault is that? You're the one who angered Father."

Az shrugged, conceding that he did in fact share some of the blame. He watched closely as his brother drew nearer. His face was clouded with something like worry.

"Where is she?" Rhys demanded. He was a master of framing his demands as questions. What he really meant was bring her here, now.

"She is a pretty little thing. I can see why you are so eager to get her back."

"Don't toy with me Azriel, Nesta wants her daughter back. I had to ask Cassian to prevent her from coming to the Underworld by destroying any shadows near her."

"Since when do you listen to that, what was it you called her? Oh, right. Harpy." Rhys made a pained expression. "Oh. I see. Little Rhysie has to do whatever she says or else his wife won't sleep with him." He mocked.

Rhys sighed but ignored the taunt, pushing past it. "Look Az. Just return her to us and we can pretend this never happened."

"No."

"Az..." Rhys started to beg but Az merely repeated itself. His tone leaving no room for argument.

"Fine. Keep her. But don't come crawling back to me when your common sense returns. She is pretty I'll grant you that much but she won't have anything to do down here. She'll be bored. And soon, she'll wither away. She was never meant to be hidden away in the shadows."

Az merely laughed. After all, why should he care? It mattered not to him whether she was meant to be down here. All he cared about was that he finally had his bargaining chip to free himself from his prison. It had been far too long since he had felt the sun on his face.

With one last look at his brother he vanished into a cloud of onyx smoke that swirled into the air.

He reappeared in his study, seated once more in his chair behind he well organized desk. Sending one of his shadows to lock the door he took out a gold key. Sliding it into a lock that had been placed on one of his desk drawers, he twisted it open. Pulling the drawer open he retrieved a gold orb. It was a curious design made by a fellow god before that same god had married Morrigan, goddess of love. It was a mechanical device made from gold that was shaped into a spherical shape. The intricate parts of it spun, concealing whatever was inside. It was a puzzle that he had yet to solve.

Hearing a sound from the hallway beyond, he quickly replaced the orb and locked the drawer. He put the key back onto a chain around his neck that was easily concealed by his black top.

He opened the door and was only somewhat surprised to see her up and about. She had not, as of yet, spotted him. Choosing to spend some more time quietly observing the Underworld's newest resident he instead used his shadows to lead her to a place nobody save him knew of. His garden.

He had little patience for plants but he couldn't resist keeping a place that was tied to life magic. A tiny corner of respite from this place of death. He smiled at her shocked reaction. Unlike earlier she looked relaxed, at peace. Makes sense he figured. She was the goddess of spring, of course being surrounded by plants that were just starting to flower would be a place that would make her more comfortable.

She approached a rose bush. Lifting one delicate hand to a rose bud he watched in quiet wonder when it started to bloom. In less than ten seconds it was a fully blooming flower. A faint melody carried through the air. She was humming. It was a song that had no rhyme or reason, simply magic. It was a tune that spoke of golden corn fields, flower beds as vibrant as a rainbow, and sun coloring the entire world in gold.

She fit in here, in his private little corner. Her outfit today matched her surroundings. It was a pale pink dress with a gold belt and green detailing. She had worn her hair down, with only a simple braid to keep the hairs out of her face. Her golden hair hung down to her waist in loose waves.

No.

He couldn't allow himself to imagine her here, tending to this garden and perhaps livening up the rest of his living quarters. He couldn't allow himself to picture her hair shining against his black sheets. Even if he kept her trapped here forever she was still scared to death of him. Az could still recall her running from him at breakfast. He had made sure to send food to her room since she hadn't eaten. She never ate it.

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

Elain was dreaming. She must be. There was no way Azriel, the God of the Underworld, who ruled over the dead had a garden. A flourishing garden. It was beautiful, The flowers had all started to bloom and she was shocked by the variety. There were roses, dahlias, bluebells, and jasmine but there was also a whole assortment of vegetables and fruits.

It was a beautiful place. There were stone paths that wove around the plants that had been planted in an uncovered area. There was no roof, just arches that formed intricate patterns. Elain could feel sunlight on her skin but couldn't see a source. This must be old magic that kept this garden flourishing and plentiful.

She was tending to the roses when she heard him.

"Hello, little dove." Whirling around she came face to face with him, her captor. Leaning back on the manners that her mother had made a point to drill into her she greeted him politely. Offhandedly she wondered how her mother was doing. She had surely noticed she was missing by now.

"I see you have discovered my garden." He said it in a way that implied he was not expecting a response. His gaze was no longer on her but on their surroundings. She turned back to look as well.

At her lack of conversation he continued. "I rarely visit it. It is an odd sort of place, when I was first banished here I thought it would die off so I didn't bother tending to it but, as you can see, it has thrived regardless."

"It's beautiful." She mused. He startled a bit at the sound of her voice but made no mention of it. Instead he simply made a sound of agreement.

"It reminds me of my garden on Olympus." Longing was evident in her voice. She missed home he realized. He had thought the garden might distract her but it had seemingly only made it worse.

She turned towards him. "How has it stayed this beautiful? Surely it would have died by now."

"Old magic. This garden is tied to another on the surface. As long as that garden thrives this one shall to."

"I had no idea that was possible."

"Nor I." He admitted. "Old magic is long gone, only traces are left from a time long past. Stubborn enough to last but with no one to harness them they have gone wild. There are traces left in forests and oceans."

"And gardens it appears." She quipped.

"Yes." He chuckled.

Their eyes met, amusement in both of their eyes. She was a pretty little thing. And he knew he could corrupt her with ease. His darkness would mar her fair skin and springtime persona.

He would be her ruin.

Looking into his hazel eyes, Elain recognized something of herself. A need to be seen. He had been hidden away for so long. Away from his family. Like her, he wanted to do something different. She loved flowers and spring but there were times when she wished that that wasn't all she was. There was a broken part of her that couldn't be healed with sunlight.

He could be her salvation.

Her breath caught when he leaned in. She could feel his breath against her cheek. Leaning up onto the tips of her toes, she brushed her lips against his. At the feel of his mouth on hers, she moaned. That small sound was what broke his feeble attempts to restrain himself. He seized control of the kiss, claiming her mouth as his. One of his hands got tangled in her hair, the other on the small of her back.

As sudden as he had kissed her, he pulled away just as suddenly.

He opened his mouth to say something but paused at her gasp of surprise. Looking around he spotted what had sparked that surprise. The garden was freezing over. Frost coated the leaves of the plants and crystalized into beautiful patterns on the stones they stood on.

Instantly he knew what had happened. It was well known that Nesta controlled the harvest. It was high summer but this garden looked to be in the midst of winter.

Part 3>>

#elriel #acomaf #acotar #acowar #acosf #acofas #short fic #rose of the grave #elain archeron #elain x azriel #olympus au #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel acosf #azriel acotar #elain acotar

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lythea-creation · 2 years

Text

Mariam's Twin - Layan x fem reader (Part 2)

Part 1

warnings: angst, family issues

word count: 1.147

Author's note: Feel free to check out my Masterlists and make requests. No reposting please! Reblogging, comments and requests are always appreciated <3 If you like the story/my writing, please don't be shy to say it via comments or asks! It takes you a few seconds and might make my day. It's the best appreciation you can show to a writer you like.

Thanks for the request!

----------

Mariam did not dare to utter another word.

After a few moments of silence I disappeared into the bathroom and took a shower … or rather burned myself with how hot the water was.

I was feeling a painful numbness inside of me and the water was the only thing reminding me that I was still alive, that my feelings were not completely broken.

I was not sure if my tears were mixing with the water pouring down on me or if I was not crying at all. Both appeared like likely options to me.

When I was finished and ready for bed I reluctantly returned to my room.

Mariam was either asleep or pretending to be. Both fine with me. I was not in the mood to talk it out anyway. Honestly I doubted that we could still talk it out at this point.

I had never felt so distant with her after a fight. This was different.

I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and opened my chat with Layan.

(f/n): Hey <3 So … Mariam and my dad already know. Sorry, it just happened.

I had to be aware of my phrasing in case her brothers would look through Layan's phone.

Layan: How did they take it?

(f/n): My dad took it well. Mariam not at all. We r not talking rn.

Layan: Sorry. Maybe I should have held back more with the teasing.

(f/n): No, it's not ur fault. Seeing u tomorrow is the only reason I'm not dreading my birthday tbh as I don't have any other friends.

Layan and I were calling us friends in our chat from time to time to be on the safe side. But we knew to read it differently.

Layan: Someday it will all be easier. We just have to hold out a little longer.

(f/n): I hope u r right. Anyway … heading to bed now. C u tomorrow <3

Layan: <3

Putting my phone away felt like being all alone again.

My eyes moved over to Mariam who did not even stir. A few years ago we had come along pretty well. I wished it had not changed.

The situation with Layan's family was bad enough. It did not help that my own twin was turning against us as well. No matter how much I tried to persuade myself that Mariam's behavior did not change anything about my feelings for Layan it still hurt.

I fell asleep wallowing in memories of Mariam and me being best friends instead of enemies.

The next morning we were woken up by our parents and brother singing a birthday song for us.

Our parents were each holding a cupcake with a candle on it, mom going over to Mariam and dad to me.

After blowing out the candle they cheered for us and then congratulated us.

They had even prepared a luxurious breakfast for us.

It all worked out without Mariam and me having to interact.

On the bus ride Layan congratulated me with a quick, tight hug and handed me a little box with a beautiful necklace in it.

Of course I was wearing it from that moment on.

The rest of the school day was the same as usual.

Some people actually came up to congratulate me.

I concentrated on school work to prevent myself from thinking about the situation with Mariam who was ignoring or at least not paying attention to me.

Was she mad at me after what I had said or was she feeling guilty? Either way it hurt. Our birthday had always been a bonding time.

She seemed to have a good time with Noaf and Dina, as usually.

At the end of the day Noaf, Dina and Layan were coming with Mariam and me immediately.

As soon as we had entered the house I vanished with Layan into my room. Mariam could have the living room for all I cared. I was pretty sure that she would not come up here with Layan present.

In my room I did not hesitate to kiss Layan earning a smile from her before she kissed me back.

We ended up cuddling on my bed.

“So when are you planning to tell the rest of your family?”, Layan wondered.

“Sometime around dinner, I think”, I considered.

“Mariam and you are still not talking”, she noted.

“No … and I don't think that will change anytime soon. I'm not planning to take the first step again. Everything I said to her is true”, I proposed.

“I get that. I hope she will take the first step though. No matter how much I can't stand her I know that she's important to you”, Layan stated.

During dinner it was mainly Mariam and Dina talking until my parents interjected and started talking to Layan.

Layan was pretty good with them which did not surprise me. She could be great with words after all and knew how to present herself best.

After dinner Mariam and I got our gifts.

I actually got the headphones I had wished for and was super happy about it.

“What about your necklace? Did you get it today?”, mom inquired.

Automatically my hand wandered to it to hold it. “Oh, yeah. Layan got it for me. It's pretty, isn't it?”

I flashed Layan a loving smile and rested my head on her shoulder without even thinking about it.

Mariam was glaring at the sight, but nobody else appeared to notice.

Dina and Noaf seemed to be surprised how close Layan and I actually were, although I was sure that Mariam had complained to them about it before.

It was all silent right now. It was now or never.

“Um … by the way … I still need to tell you something”, I began and sat upright again.

Layan was holding my hand under the table.

“What is it, sweetheart?”, mom questioned.

“Layan isn't just my friend … she's my girlfriend”, I confessed.

Dad smiled proudly at me.

“Okay ...”, mom uttered surprised.

Dina and Noaf were looking shocked as well. So at least Mariam had kept it secret.

“But don't make out anywhere I can see you”, my brother joked making dad and me laugh.

“Okay”, I ensured him.

“Layan, you are welcome to come over whenever you want of course. But (f/n) you know the boundaries”, mom reminded me.

“Yeah, don't worry about it”, I reassured her.

“Fine then”, she said before cleaning the dishes with dad.

“Your parents are really laid-back. Could only dream of it”, Layan pointed out.

“Yeah, guess I'm lucky in that regard”, I agreed.

I just wished my home could be a safe place. But as long as Mariam was so stubborn that was a wish that could not come true.

The End

#al rawabi school for girls #layan x fem reader #lgbtqia +#angst #romance #fluff #drama #love #high school drama #mariams sister reader #dina #noaf #mariam #layan #family issues

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becuzpurple · 4 years

Text

What the heck I’m writing again. Who am I?

#it's not BP tho #It's NUMB #I should repost the 2 parts of NUMB #maybe that would motivate me to keep going #thoughts?

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seroh · 3 years

Text

STILL INTO YOU.

iwaizumi, oikawa, matsukawa, hananaki.

› part one: all i wanted was you.

— the one where they want you back, but you've moved on.

› angst.

GN.READER ; POST BREAK UP.

notes — repost from my old blog.

IWAIZUMI H.

Ever since you left, there’s been an uncomfortable feeling bubbling inside of Iwaizumi. He wakes up every morning hoping to see you next to him, only to be disappointed when he finds his new lover instead. He gets home and your name almost falls from his lips, before he sees them sitting on his couch. Guilt eats him up inside, specially when they smile at him so bright and loving.

It takes his new lover leaving him, saying he keeps calling your name in his sleep and professing his love for you, for him to realize how much he truly misses you. How bad he really fucked up.

Iwaizumi finds himself alone again, the echo of the door shutting closed still ringing in his ears, and he can’t take it. He needs to see you again.

When the bell rings at 2 a.m., the last thing you expect to see is Iwaizumi. It’s been months, after all, almost a year. And yet there he is, eyes puffy and red and tired. There’s a pained expression in his face, but he still lights up when you open the door and face him.

It takes him one look to realize you’re wearing someone else’s shirt, and as soon as he does his mind starts running wild. Is it his? Did he forget it at your place? Does this mean you miss him? Does he still have a chance? A small, flickering flame of hope ignites inside of him.

Then a second voice talks from somewhere in your apartment, asking who’s at the door, and soon a man emerges behind you. Iwaizumi’s eyes go directly to his hand resting on your hip.

“Who is this, babe?” The question is like a raging wind, killing the little flame in his heart.

“No one,” you reply, eyes cold in his direction as you close the door on his face, and all of the memories that accompany him..

Iwaizumi spends the next few moments standing in front of your door, trying to process the pain in his heart. It’s over. It’s over, he knows it is, and yet he can’t help the urge to knock on your door again and beg for you to take him back.

But it’s over, and there’s nothing he can do to fix what he so carelessly broke.

OIKAWA T.

It’s easy for Oikawa to forget about what he lost while he’s all the way across the world. His new lover’s company proves to be a great distraction, one that consumes his nights and brightens his days. One that drowns the pain in his heart and makes it all disappear.

But then he finds himself back in his homeland, and he can’t do anything to prevent the surge of memories that hit him as soon as he sets foot in Japan. Everywhere he looks, everywhere he goes, the remnants of your love haunt him. Something as simple as an ad for that the brand of chocolate you loved has him wondering if you still like it as much as you used to. Does it still bring warmth to your heart when you’re feeling down? Should he buy some for you in case he sees you?

Except, he’s sure he won’t see you. Ever again. He repeats that over and over again, trying to resist the temptation to find you. In spite of the growing hope filling his heart, he’s still not prepared to see you again.

Oikawa spots you on the court, talking to someone his eyes don’t even register. He takes a step forward, like in a trance. Eyes locked on your smiling, laughing face. Fingers twitching with the need to touch you, hug you. Heart overflowing with all of the feelings he tried so hard to bury. He truly feels like his teenage self all over again, holding your favorite chocolate as he pours his heart out for you.

He’s a few steps away when you notice him. Your eyes widen in surprise before settling into a resentful kind of pain that makes his heart ache. Still, he puts on a smile, as wide and bright as he can muster, and puts on the whole “It’s been so long! I didn’t expect to see you here” act.

“Well, of course I am.” You say, looking as uncomfortable as he’s ever seen you. “My boyfriend’s in Japan’s team.” The words bring an end to Oikawa’s smile. Almost in slow motion, he sees you gesture to the person next to you, and only then does the man register in his visual camp. Begrudgingly, he shakes the hand the man offers him before making up an excuse to go back to his team.

His hand shoots up to his chest, right above his heart, and he can almost feel it break into a million pieces.

MATSUKAWA I.

Matsukawa thinks it’s odd, how much he seems to miss your company after you’re gone. He used to think familiarity was dull, boring; but now finds himself missing it whenever his new lover asks what he wants from the coffee shop, when you always knew his order by heart, or when they sleep on his side of the bed, or when they don’t even bat an eye at the same jokes you used to love.

Not even the fire of a new love can calm the restless feeling.

He first realizes how much he truly misses you when he sees you in that coffee shop he knows you love. He’d gone there under the pretense of it being the nearest one, secretly hoping to find you already sitting at one of the tables. Maybe he’d talk to you, ask how you’ve been and if you’d mind it if he joined you. Maybe you wouldn't mind, and you would smile at him as you gestured to the seat in front of you.

Maybe you would want to see him again afterwards.

By luck or fate, he does see you; and his heart starts racing after his eyes land on you. However, things don't the way he expects them to happen. There’s no spark in your eyes when they look his way, no warm smile greeting him, nothing. And it hurts to be met with such disregard, but what makes it worse, what marks the final stab to his heart, is the man sitting next to you. He has his arm resting on the back of your seat, thumb darting out to collect the crumbs clinging to your lips. And you’re laughing and smiling so much, a sweet and adoring spark in your eyes he recognizes immediately. It’s the same way you used to look at him before he broke your heart.

Then your eyes meet his, and there’s such indifference behind them. There’s not even hate or resentment in your expression, just plain indifference, and he knows he’s lost you for ever.

Matsukawa freezes. Can’t even move a finger as he watches the gentle exchange. The other man throws his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. Your form presses snugly against his, a soft laugh escaping your lips. Only the barista’s calling of his name manages to snap him out of it, after several attempts.

He reaches for his coffee with a numb feeling spreading throughout his body. Leaves the shop without sparing you a second glance, too scared he’d start crying if he has to see you with him again, if he has to see how happy he makes you.

HANAMAKI T.

He stumbles upon you while he’s out at a club with Matsukawa. He’s been unreasonably irritable lately, upset, tired, agitated. His friend, as the caring man he is, decided to take him out for the night, thinking some stranger’s love might help improve his mood.

But Hanamaki isn’t interested. He isn’t interested in the pretty ones wearing next to nothing, nor the attractive ones sending him burning looks. He just isn’t interested, hasn’t been for months now, and he can’t figure out why.

He’s finally free, free of you and your nagging and the grip you had around him. Can finally go out and lose himself in alcohol and strangers’ love without a trace of guilt coming back to bite him.

He’s free, so why can’t he enjoy this newfound freedom?

The answer hits him when his eyes wander to the bar, landing on you like they’re being pulled in your direction. Hanamaki’s blood starts to boil as he sees the way you’re dressed, the way you shamelessly flirt with a man he’s never seen before. A man who’s too close to you, so much he doubts there’s any space left in between your bodies.

The man leans to press a kiss to your lips, and you seem to curl and melt around him with such ease. Hanamaki can’t bear to look any longer, can’t tear his eyes away either. Something seems to click in his head, and he’s taking the first step before he even realizes what he’s doing. But once he does, he can’t stop himself. His heart burns and stings and bleeds hurt.

Why does it hurt?

A hand falls on his shoulder when he’s nothing but a few meters away from you, fist ready to start a fight with that stranger that dared to touch you. When he looks back, Hanamaki’s furious eyes meet Matsukawa’s serious ones. “Haven’t you done enough?” The question is harsh and venomous, not a trace of friendliness in it. He looks back from your smiling face to his friend’s stern expression.

The heavy weight of realization finally hits him. He loves you. He loves you and fucked it all up because he couldn’t handle it. Tears begin to pool behind his eyes, a scream threatens to tear his throat apart. Matsukawa gives a relieved, sympathetic sigh before pulling him out of the club and into his car. Hanamaki sobs and cries and laments everything he ever did to you, and Matsukawa can’t do anything but listen to his friend drown in his own mistakes.

#iwaizumi angst #oikawa angst #matsukawa angst #hanamaki angst #iwaizumi headcanons #oikawa headcanons #matsukawa headcanons #hanamaki headcanons #iwaizumi x reader #oikawa x reader #matsukawa x reader #hanamaki x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader

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pashminalamb · 3 years

Text

A SIDE THAT BELONGS TO YOU

Pairings : Gojo Satoru x fem! reader (sequel to A side you never knew)

MDNI, Minors stay the fuck out.

Synopsis : Satoru starts off right by taking you out on a date…

♱ Warnings : Bondage, cloth ripping, use of crude language, submissive satoru, dom! fem! reader, teasing, nipple play, finger sucking, mutual masturbation and mentions of sexual activity from the previous prompt, spit kink (more like using it as lube), exhibitionism (kinda? But not in a crowd), begging. Had to put a stop to my horny thots cause it got too long T^T (I stg I wanted to write more smut)

✟ Note : So, this one was really lengthy and it is the most I've ever written so far. I could have written more but it would have to be a multi chapter work (about 6.1k words are in this chapter). I used japanese (like my any other major work) and translations are given at the end of it.

I know I'll be back to edit this later.

(❄️ anon! Here's part 2. Apologies for the delay, hope you like it!)

✟ Announcement : I will be updating my works around the weekend from now on and once a week if I get lucky. Hope you have a good time reading!! <3

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit my work.

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Warm light streamed into the room, swallowing the darkness of early morning. Shifting in your position, you felt a weight on your chest. Turning to push it away, you were met with a raspy groan as arms around you curled tighter. Eyes squinting at the brightness in your room, you looked down to see a mess of white hair. Using the strength of your arms, you gently pushed yourself up without disturbing the sleeping man. Looking down at him, you realized he looked similar to an angel rather than a man who was to be feared of. Leaning back, you watched his hair turn into a blinding white with rays of sun, while his eyebrows furrowed from the disturbance of them. Tilting your head, you covered his face with your shadow which made him relax and nuzzle further into your chest.

Turning to look at your bedside clock, the hands of it said it was seven in the morning. Turning the alarm off before it rang, you shifted in your position, coming an eye to eye level with Satoru. Watching him more carefully, you noticed his shallow breaths as he slept; chest rising and falling with each each one. Reaching for his hand that rested on your hip, you brought it to cup the side of your face. Pulling it away, you ran your digits through his subconsciously curled ones, straightening them. Turning his wrist around, you noticed how nimble they were, yet they were littered with tiny scars that could only be noticed in the sunlight. Running the tip of your finger through the light patches of skin, you felt him shudder next you.

Eyes shifting from his hand to see his face, you watch him staring intently at your hand holding his. Switching his gaze from your entwined digits to meet your orbs he bats his eyelashes against his waterline gently, before deciding to close them again and nuzzle into the crook of your neck. Kissing gently against his hair, you rub your free hand up and down the curve of his shoulder.

“We should get up Satoru” you cooed at him gently. His lips form into a soft pout before answering you.

“Wanna lay for five more minutes with you”.

Sighing, you knew you shouldn’t give into his whims. “If we stay here we’re gonna stay in bed all day and I feel like my arm is going numb” you said with a groan, stretching your said arm that was buried under Satoru’s weight. Pulling your body further into his, Satoru left no pace for arguing, using his free hand to push your head into his chest. “Five more minutes” he said stubbornly. He yelped when he felt you biting into your skin. “Why did you do that?” He pouted, rubbing the sore area on his chest.

“Shoulda thought ‘bout that before you decided to shove my face into your tits. And second, I didn’t you hear complain about… these last night” you said, trailing a finger down the love bites that blemished his skin from the previous night.

“Hentai” Satoru rolling over to the empty side of the bed, covering the naked skin of his chest and waist down with a sheet.

“I have morning breathe. Would you like to have a kiss that smells the other way from paradise?” You teased him.

“Curses smell worse than the bacteria that infiltrated your mouth from the hours you spent sleeping” Satoru said in a matter-of-fact manner with a small shrug.

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better? I like the fact that you’re trying your best babe, but we already took it to a level last night. I’m trying to respect your wishes about starting off right…” you said, using the back of your hand, trying to stifle a yawn. Getting up from the bed, you turned around to see Satoru sitting with his legs crossed beneath a bedsheet that covered his naked body. His free hand rested by his side, supporting his body while the other was under his chin. His eyes gazed into yours, the once baby blue now turned white with warm sunlight. Leaning down, you kissed his collarbone. Pulling back, you were met with a questioning gaze to which you raised your hands and replied, “What? You wanted a kiss didn’t you?”

Thumb caressing your cheekbone and fingers resting behind your ear, Satoru pulled you closer to him until your lips met his awaiting ones. Closing your eyes, you simply melted into the kiss, feeling the movements of his lips against yours. Pulling away from you he muttered with a smirk,

“What I meant was this and no tongue”.

Sighing, you got off from your crouched position and stared down at Satoru who sat on the edge of the bed. “Right. I’m gonna go brush my teeth. Have some privacy and put your clothes back on. Since I have a spare brush, you wanna clean your teeth as well?” You asked.

Giving you a small nod, you headed in the direction of the bathroom. Taking out a new toothbrush from the cupboard you stood in front of the mirror and watched the froth from the toothpaste form around the corners of your mouth while leaving the door open. Satoru walked in nothing but clad boxers, showing the expanse of his pale skin covered in bite marks and hickies, each leaving their shades of blue, purple and dark pink. Grabbing the free toothbrush from the holder, you held it out for him to take.

“Arigato” he said in a small voice, reaching around you for the toothpaste. Noticing him in the mirror from the corner of your eye, you realized how adorable he was in the morning. Eyes half shut, a toothbrush stuck in his mouth while he lazily moved it back and forth… such a domestic scene brought a smile to your lips.

Washing your face you turned to who just finished brushing while water fell from beneath your chin. “I’m gonna get started in breakfast, and then take a quick shower. I have some spare clothes lying around here… do you wanna take one after?” You asked.

“No. I have plans. Just get dressed and then we’re heading over to my place and just make cereal” Satoru said.

“Uh… okay. What do you have in mind?” You asked, hand gesturing into empty space for an answer. “I have a whole day planned for us” he said with a smile.

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“Tell me again why you never learnt to drive?” You asked, turning the steering wheel into Gojo’s residence.

“Ever seen a man with a blindfold driving?” Satoru asked with a smirk turning to you.

“Cheeky bastard” you muttered under your breath. Gojo chuckled at your words. “Doesn’t the blindfolded man need to be strapped in with a seatbelt? Or should I get the baby seat out?” You wondered out loud. “I’m one of the strongest sorcerers out there (Y/N) Chan what could possibly happen if I didn’t put my seatbelt on?” Satoru asked, kicking up his legs onto the dashboard.

“We’re in MY car Gojo. Put your seatbelt on. And while you’re at it, make sure to get your feet off my dashboard too. Keep ‘em there and I’m making you clean it up” you said, steering to the left with the tilt of the driving wheel. Hearing the friction of the belt against the plastic that held it being drawn, cracked a smile on your face.

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“So… this is where you live?” You asked the tall man standing beside you, whilst looking up at the building. It was extravagant with statues of angels embedded into pillars that held the building with an elevator that could be seen through the glass that led all the way up to the building. “Hai… Kochi” he said, waving a hand over to the entrance of the building.

Pushing the glass doors open, the two of you made your way inside. Looking around, you were met with the lavish sight of paintings that were hung on walls and chandeliers suspended from ceiling. Looking down, you noticed the reflection of them on the polished marble floor along with your murky figure. ‘Just how much is it to buy a house here’ you thought to yourself. Sure, the two of you worked at the same academy… but it was more like a playground for rich people than a workplace for them.

A childish laugh in a baritone voice caught your attention. Looking from the center of the building lounge you watched Satoru slouch over a wooden desk at the end of the lounge. Tilting your head to the side, you noticed a figure much smaller than him move behind the desk. Making your way over, you realized it was a lady who probably in her early fifties.

“Here’s your key Gojo san” she said jangling the cluster of metal before dropping it into his open hand.

“Arigato Yuko san” he said with a smirk. The lady turned her face to you and gave you a warm smile with a small bow. You returned the gesture with a small bow of your own and turned to Satoru. “Ah, (Y/N) Chan this is Nakamura Yuko san. Yuko san, this is (Y/N) Chan” he said, waving over to you.

“Domo” she said with a smile. “Konnichiwa” you quipped back. Her gaze shifted from yours to the tall white haired man. “I take it she is your guest but maybe something more…?” Yuko san asked in a teasing manner. “Shitsureiyo Yuko-san. You’re not supposed to pry into private matters of people” came Satoru’s smug reply. “I wasn’t born yesterday, child. Your answer confirms it along with the mark on the side of your jaw” Yuko san said, covering her laughs with her hand. Your eyes widened in surprise while Satoru’s hand slapped against the said patch of his skin, covering up his mark.

“Ah… I don’t have time for this. I have a whole day planned out ahead and I…uh… have stuff to do” Satoru said in a flustered state.

“I shan’t keep you two lovebirds waiting then” Yuko san said with a smug face. Taking your hand in his, Satoru pulled you towards the elevator while you bowed your head in goodbye to Yuko-san and she did the same. Upon entering the elevator, Satoru pressed the topmost button while you watched the view of the city. As each floor passed, you watched the figures of people moving in and out of the building become smaller and the view of beyond grew wider.

*ding*

“Yoshaa” Satoru said, stretching his arms, taking one step out of the elevator. You tried to match his long strides, before coming to a stop in front of a red carpet that was rolled out in front of the elevator.

“Are you a celebrity?” You blurted out. Looking at you in amusement, Gojo replied,“Why do you think that?” . Thinking of how to phrase your question properly without offending him, you place a hand under your chin and stare at the red carpet on the floor. “Just ask me (Y/N) Chan” Satoru said in a calm voice.

“Alright. Where do I start… uh… okay” you stuttered taking a deep breath. “Why is there a red carpet on the floor and how is it that you live in such an expensive piece of estate which is the pretty much like a penthouse?” You asked. Taking a moment, Satoru hummed in thought.

“Since my family is a part of the big three it is more or less a Gojo right to be able to afford this. This is more like a drop in a waterfall compared to what I can afford though…” he said pointing a finger to the ceiling.

“And who are the big three?” You asked, looking at the darkened end of the hallway where the door was to the entrance of his apartment was.

“Gojo, Zenin and Kamo. We’ve been fine with the Kamo clan so far… but we’ve always had bad blood with the Zenins” Satoru said.

“Maki and Mai’s family?” You asked in surprise.

“Hai. The children are good souls and have potential. It’s their elders that I’m not fond of” he said in a grave voice. Not pressing the matter any further the two of you trudged int eh red carpet that covered the floor. Either side to there hallway was covered with paintings that had the similar white tuft of hair ranging from men to women.

“I suppose these are your ancestors or family members?” You asked staring at one painting in particular that had a woman with a frown on it, staring right at you.

“Tch. Ano baba” Satoru said in a childish manner. You nearly choked on your own spit.

“Did you just call her an old hag?” You asked, trying to cover your giggles with the back of your hand.

“Hm” he hummed in reply. You noticed the fact that Satoru didn’t talk much about his family. Even during outings with your colleagues when Satoru was drunk, he wouldn’t respond to questions hurled at him about his family. You still remembered the time Utahime held the phone to record Satoru.

“Do you have a sister, Gojo?” She asked, focusing the camera on his drunk face.

“Hah… uh… Aneki ka…? Hehehe iie naiiiii” he answered, drooling onto the bar table.

“Who’s your father?” Meimei asked with a smug face. Before she could hear an answer, Satoru turned his face the other way round in defiance while you watched the fiasco from far with Nanami who adjusted his glasses in disappointment.

You chuckled as you replayed the scene from your memory.

“What’s so funny?” Satoru asked, coming to a stop in front of the door.

“Remembering the night you were shitfaced drunk and drooling on the table. I’m surprised Nanami took you home without having to worry that you pissed yourself” you said with a grin.

“Tsk tsk (Y/N) Chan. Such crude language coming from a lady such as yourself?” Satoru gasped with feign hurt, placing his palm over his heart.

“You’ve had your fun bullying me Gojo. Isn’t it time the tables turned in my favor?” You asked with an innocent smile. With the jangling of keys in the hallway, Satoru opened the lock of the door and gave it a light push behind.

“Home sweet home” he said to no one in particular as he made a bee line for his room. Looking behind him, he titled his head for you to follow. Shrugging you closed the door behind you and took your shoes off at the entrance of the house. Looking around the shelves if his living room, you noticed most of them were empty, except a few photo frames. Looking at these photos you noticed a few of them were those of Satoru and another black haired man during their days as students while other frames had those of…you? Picking up a frame you realized these photos were from the night you had gone drinking with Nanami, Utahime and Meimei while Satoru was cropped out of the picture. The frame was immediately snatched from your hands and placed face down the on the shelf.

“I already saw it you know?” You said out loud.

“You weren’t supposed to” came Satoru’s reply. Turning around to face him, you noticed he had no shirt and was still in his pants from the previous night. Looking at the marks left on his body gave you flashbacks and made your imaginations run wild.

“Go throw a shirt on Gojo-” you said, trying to push him away.

“Satoru”, he said with a serious expression and a grave tone to match.

Caught off guard by the change of his voice, you stuttered “H-huh?”

“Satoru, (Y/N) chan. I’m not some stranger nor friend. Definitely not after the mile we went last night. And this is the third time you called me that today. If you’re not careful…” he said leaning down next to your ear to whisper “I might have to punish you”.

Staring into his eyes you darted forward, lips meeting his earlobe.

“I’d love to see you try Sa-to-ru” you whispered in a sing song voice. Drawing your face back, you watched as a blush spread across the apples of his cheeks as he regained his footing.

“Made you go weak in the knees eh?” You smirked at him.

“Urusaina” he whined, turning around to leave for his bedroom. Reaching a hand out, you smacked his butt making him help in surprise.

“No infinity huh… nice ass Sato-Chan” you said with a smirk.

“Alright you’ve had your fun. Time for me to get dressed so we can go on our date” he said, continuing to walk towards his room, not sparing you a glance.

Continuing to roam around his living room, you looked at the empty space around you. There was nothing much except a coffee table, a couch and a couple of shelves. Wandering into the kitchen, you opened drawers and cupboards only to fins them filled with knick knacks and sugared products.

“Find anything good?” came a voice form the entrance of the kitchen. Your gaze shifted from the shades that covered his eyes to the black turtle neck that hugged the curves of his figure, making his muscles more pronounced and beige colored pants to go with it.

‘It should be illegal for him to walk to the streets’

“Except for diabetes in a pack, nothing else” you said in a monotoned voice, closing the cupboard door. “Hai Hai” he said carelessly waving an arm at you and headed in the direction of the living room with you following him. “Why do you have such an empty home Satoru?” You asked. “Eh… minimalistic living is the trend nowadays (Y/N) Chan. Get with the times and use social media more” he said, fetching his shoes from the rack. “And click selfies with people who ask for it along with trying to make skittle popcorn that you saw on YouTube?” You asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement. “It worked. But it was disappointing to my palette” he said, wearing his shoes. “Ah… so, Satoru sama has a cat’s tongue” you said. “Sonotori. De wa…” he acknowledged, getting up from the couch with a hand over his coat, “ikimasho?” .

You looked at him in confusion, “Where are we going?”

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“Never would I have expected to go here of all places” you said, looking at the shopping complex that screamed ‘For rich people only’. “I thought we could take our first step and get something as a couple” Satoru said with a pout from beneath his glasses. “And you thought the best idea was to get what? Matching watches, rings or necklaces?” You asked, shoving your hands into your pockets awkwardly. Opening the door to one of the stores, Satoru ushered you in with a hand around your waist. Looking around, you noticed each name was a brand you had only ever seen in magazines. Daring to one of the stores, you stared at a Cuban collared shirt that was fixed on the mannequin. Flipping it upside down,

‘Made it Italy… 600000 yen?!’

“Could you give me that and tell me where the changing rooms are?” Satoru asked the attendant tilting his head towards your figure.

“Hai. Right this way sir” she said with a polite bow and the gesture of her hand towards to the rooms that were hidden away in a corner of the store. “But I never said I would want to try it out” you protested. “Hora. Don’t be a party pooper and just try it on” Satoru said, shoving the fabric into your shaky hands and closed the door of the waiting room.

“Show me when you’re done” he said in a sing voice as you heard his footsteps fade away from the entrance of the room.

“Hm…” Satoru hummed in thought looking at your figure with a hand under his chin. Looking down to the floor, you averted his gaze, choosing to stare at every grain embedded into the wood.

“Kore de iie” he said to the attendant who said a polite “wakarimashita” and walked to wards you. Entwining your fingers between his, he pulled you into another section that was filled with dresses, followed by shoes, skirts, pants including sportswear. Walking out of the store, you had at least twenty bags filled with clothes you had no space for; and a satisfied Satoru who wouldn’t let you drop them.

“You don’t like dinner (Y/N) Chan?” Satoru asked, searching your gaze as he stuck a piece of steak into his mouth with his fork.

“It’s fine” you said in a monotoned voice, poking at your meal with your spoon. Satoru’s mouth turned to a frown on the lack of response in your words. Clicking his tongue between his teeth, he used a napkin to wipe away at the corners of his mouth before speaking.

“Am I not doing this right?” He asked in a soft voice, reaching his free hand across the table to cover yours. Feeling his touch, your gaze shifted from the reflection of yourself in your plate to his worried one. Blinking you hummed in response, encouraging him to repeat the question again.

“Are you not having fun? I thought buying your things would make you happy… isn’t that what couples do on their first date?” He asked, folding his arms over the table while still holding your hand.

“Yeah… it’s usually ones that are either married or halfway through a relationship where they think of it… not on the first date” you answered, stretching your arms out from the stiff position you were in. On hearing no retort, you watched Satoru bite his lip hard with his brows furrowing beneath his shades.

“And what are you supposed on the first date?” He asked, shifting his hand from the table to under his chin.

“Wanna find out?” You asked excitedly. “It’s already eight thirty. A little late to plan out a date isn’t it?” He asked, staring at the screen of his phone.

“I know just the place” you said with a smirk.

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“This is the idea of your first date?” He asked with amusement. “It ain’t no Louis Vuitton store, but it has its own charm” you said, taking your shoes off. “Tag you’re it” you said before running into the sand.

“Sometimes I forget if I’m the childish one or is it you” Satoru said, hopping on one foot, trying to get his shoes off. Running behind you, he caught you in arms, before landing on your feet in the salty water while the air was filled with sounds of waves rising and falling. Taking your hand in his, you pointed at the stars in the sky. “That’s ophiuchus” you said, mapping out the stars with your pointer finger while Satoru took off his tinted glasses.

Resting his chin on your shoulder from behind you and hands hugging your waist, Satoru watched your finger move in shape of the stars aligned. He hummed in response, feeling his feet sink into the sand with cool water pushing and pulling him. Turning you around, he caught your lips with his and kissed you. Smiling into his lips, your hands entwined in his hair as you pulled him further into you. Pulling back, he cupped your face and looked at you like he held the world in his hands. Kissing the crown of your head, he pulled you into a hug, silently looking at the stars above. Standing still for a while, you wish you could preserve this memory forever. Holding him by the waist, you smiled into his chest, satisfied about your thoughts and dreams coming true one followed by another. Dropping his hands from your back to your forearms, he asked in a soft voice “iko ka?”

Nodding, you let him lead the way, footsteps embedding into the soft sand. A smile broke across your face as you stared at the moonlight, dancing over delicate of the ocean. Drawing your free hand back, you dipped them into the ocean, feeling your fingertips become cold. With a grin on your face you said, “Satoru!”

Turning back to face you, Satoru felt something cold splash on his face. Blinking his eyes like a deer caught in headlights, he stared at you till the cloudiness in his vision faded away. He watched you standing knee deep in water, with the sleeves of your shirt wet. You giggled, flailing your arms for balance as you ran across the water, only to be caught in the grasp of the white haired male behind you. Lifting you up bridal style, he maintained eye contact with you. You could you see him coming closer and closer to your face, before you felt a gust of air in your face with water. “Should’ve thought about the consequences of your actions before deciding to play them out, (Y/N) Chan” Satoru said smugly. His eyes trailed down your wet figure, only to avert his gaze with a tinge of pink on his cheeks.

Looking down, you realized your shirt was see through. Quick to act, you covered your chest with your arm while the other held onto Satoru’s hand, squeezing for him to let go. Gripping you tightly, he walked to the dry side of the beach with you in his arms. Settling you into the driver’s seat, he covered you with his coat while he sat beside you.

“We’re going to my place. Your’s is too far” he said, staring out of the window.

“Do you happen to have spare clothes?” You asked him, one hand placed on the steering wheel while the other clutched the hem of his coat closer to your body.

“We’ll figure something out” he said with a warm smile.

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“The pajamas slid a couple of times, but I tied it so it’s fine” you said, stepping out of the bathroom, clutching a towel to your shoulders. Satoru looked at you from the couch, jaw slightly opened while his hands clutched a magazine that rested on his lap. “Thanks for having me over Satoru. But, I must get going” you said, taking the bag which had your wet clothes, dropping the towel on the couch. While wearing your shoes, you heard quick footsteps behind you. Paying no attention to it, you stood up and placed a hand on the knob.

“Stay” Satoru yelled.

Turning around to face him, you watched as he walked towards you, caging your figure against the door, giving you no space to run. Before you could speak, your lips were silence with those of his own, sealing your words with a kiss.The kiss was desperate, passionate which gave every emotion and wish to consume you. Dropping the bag with your wet clothes and kicking your shoes off,you threw your arms around Satoru’s shoulders, pushing him back in the room. Taking stumbling steps back into his place, you pushed Satoru on the bed.

Straddling him, you tugged at the hem of his shirt, still kissing him. Noticing your movements, Satoru was quick to sit up. With a rush of his fingers, he pulled his shirt off, hands connecting with your face once more, eager to taste your lips again. You could feel his tongue prodding at your lower lip, silently asking for permission to let him in. Gently parting your lips, Satoru slid his tongue in, moaning at the feeling of yours dancing with his. Pulling at the hem of your shirt, he whined in need to feel your bare skin against his. Separating from his lips, you pulled your shirt over your head.

You could feel Satoru’s hot breaths on your chest as he stared at them in awe. Repositioning yourself in his lap, you took his hand in yours and placed it over your naked breast. “Squeeze them slow” you said pressing his fingers against your skin. Taking your tits into his hand, Satoru rolled them and squeezed them which had you moan in pleasure while his eyes watched your every expression. Burning to please you, Satoru lowered his face, inviting your nipple into his mouth. Hearing your high pitched moans made him shift uncomfortably, causing him to press his growing erection into your heat. Satisfied with spit glistening on one of your tits, he moved his face to do the same to other while you threw your head back in ecstasy as you felt him roll his tongue around your nipple, hands entangled in his hair.

Pulling back, Satoru watched your nipples grow hard and flicked them. “Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” You asked laughingly. “Hajimete da” he said with a smile. Getting up from your straddled position, you moved to the foot of the bed while Satoru watched you with half lidded eyes. Maintaining eye contact, you pulled down both your panties and Satoru’s pants and moved to the other side of the bed. Positioning yourself across him, you spread your legs apart, laying back against the mattress with your forearms to support you. Running a finger up and down your slit, you pulled your fingers away from your cunt, showing off the strings of wetness between your fingers.

“See this Satoru? This is what you do to me” you said in a breathy voice, dipping your fingers into your wet pussy once more. Satoru slid his hand into pants, rubbing at his stiff cock that was becoming more firm as he drunk in the sight of your naked body. Dipping your fingers into your heat, you leaned forward to take Satoru’s free hand. Licking his fingertips, you guided it to your clit. “Rub her softly Satoru” you purred. Heeding at your words, the white haired male rubbed his index in an up and down motion of your clit. Swallowing, you continued to pump your fingers in and out of yourself while Satoru pulled down the edge of his pajamas and boxers, presenting his dick which was weeping precum. Rubbing the tip of it gently, he stroked his shaft while his fist while his finger continued to move up and down your clit. Breath hitching, Satoru closed his eyes and imagined what it would feel like to finally have you.

With hitched breaths, you knew you were close. Pulling your fingers out, you took Satoru’s hand and pressed it against your wet slit. Spreading your pussy apart and presenting your wet hole, you said “use one finger babe”. Cracking his eyes open, Satoru entered his middle finger into your tight heat. You nearly felt full as his long and nimble fingers stroked against your velvety walls. “Use two” you said, pushing yourself again this fingers in rhythm while your free hand rubbed your clit. Satoru felt like he was about to burst any minute. With a loud moan, he came undone, spilling his cum onto his boxers.He felt ashamed at the sight of cumming early. Tears formed at the corner of his eyes in embarrassment as he withdrew both his hands to cover his face.

Noticing him from your peripheral, you were pulled away from your high. With worrying thoughts, you crawled over to him, placing yourself in his lap. Resting your hands over his, you pulled them away from his face, surprised to see his eyes tinged with red. Smiling softly, you wiped away tears from his face and leaned forward to kiss him. “I’ve got you” you whispered between kisses. You felt Satoru grind into your hips, desperate to feel your warmth against his. “Do you have condoms?” You asked, pulling away from him. “They’re in the drawer” he said, looking at the cupboard in front of him. Getting up with kissing one last time you turned around to say, “Take those off by the time I turn around”. Getting up, you walked to the drawer, pulling out a packet. Satoru struggled to get his clothes off and with an urgent attempt to rid them, he accidentally ended up ripping the fabric in a hurry.

Hearing the tearing of fabric in the room, you turned your head with a sharp glare. Walking over to him, you straddled him once more. Picking up the remains of the cloth, you tore into the fabric further, using a piece of it to tie his hands to the headboard. “Did I say you could tear your clothes?” You asked in a grave tone. “It was an accident (Y/N) chan! I-” Satoru yelped as you twisted his nipple. “Did I say you could talk Satoru?” You asked once more. “No” he quietly answered. Pressing your finger into his mouth, you stroked the tip of his tongue with your thumb while your other hand caressed his face. “I thought you were gonna punish me three times today” you said in a teasing tone, “looks like someone needed to be given a reality check”. Biting at his earlobe and giving it a sweet kiss, you held the condom between your teeth. Ripping the edge of it off, you used your fingers to push it from the tip to the bottom of Satoru’s dick. “Spit” you said, placing your palm under Satoru’s chin. Letting his tongue roll out, he let a clear string of saliva drip from the tip of it on your open palm. “Good boy” you praised, rubbing your spit shined palm over his length. “I want you to watch Satoru” you said, lifting your hips up to rub the tip of his dick against your wet folds. Satoru’s eyes widened at the sight of what he could only imagine his dreams to be real. Rubbing his dick against your folds and making sure it was lathered well from his spit and your slick, you pushed the tip in. Satoru’s eyebrows furrowed and his Adam’s apple bobbed at the sight of his dick disappearing into your warm and wet pussy. He could feel your pulsating walls around his dick, making him feel better than the number of times he had his hand to pleasure himself. With broken moans, Satoru could feel his sanity slipping as you took every inch of his dick in until he had bottomed out. Grinding yourself on his cock, you rested your hands against the prominent v lines of his hips. “‘M gonna start moving ‘Kay?” You said in a dazed state while Satoru nodded. Lifting your hips up, Satoru grunted at the feeling of the first thrust. Hands clenching he pulled against the fabric that restrained him, longing to rest them against your hips. “Keep them where they are” you said breathlessly bouncing yourself on his lap. Satoru moaned and groaned at the sight of your tits bouncing up and down at each thrust and the feeling of your pussy clamping his dick. He rut his hips against you, trying to create more friction. As you bounced yourself harder and deeper, you used your fingers to untie the cloth that bound his hands to the headboard. With the fabric falling onto the bed, Satoru let his hands rest against your hips and watched his cock disappear into your core. “‘M close” you said through loud moans while Satoru watched your figure. “Cum with me” he babbled. “Onegai (Y/N) chan” he begged as tears began to form at the corner of his eyes. “Who do you belong to?” You asked Satoru, placing your hand against his throat. “You” he answered, watching you lean close. “Prove it” you said, grinding yourself into his pelvis. Pulling your face against close to his, Satoru’s lips moved against yours. Moving the tip of his tongue to the wet cavern of your mouth, he explored the taste of you. Thrusting into you, he moved the fingers of his free hand to rub your clit while the other was entangled into your hair. “Aishiteru (Y/N) chan” he said between kisses. “Zutto ni aishiteru” he said with finality in his voice. Whimpering into the kiss, he begged “please cum with me. Cum with me. Need to feel you. Need it so bad”. Feeling the tight coil form in the lower part of your belly, you came with a loud moan. Satoru moaned against your shoulder as he felt his seed spill into the condom. Resting against you, he panted while he shoulders shook. Swallowing hard, you pulled his head back to watch his eyes look up at you with cloudy vision. Laughing, you pushed his hair back and kissed the crown of his head.

Moving your lips south, you kissed his eyes, the tip of his nose, the bow of his lip last but not least, his lips. Giving him soft kisses, you felt him stir into a relaxed form against the headboard.

“How’d that feel?” You asked. Looking at your with a drunken smile on his face, Satoru said “Now that’s a first. And it was… what I dreamed of ”. Nuzzling into your skin, he littered your sternum with soft kisses and bites of his own before pulling you down next him. Despite being pulled down, you sat up, using your fingers gently to pull at the full condom. Satoru hissed as he felt his dick slip from the condom. Taking it from your hand, he gave you a kiss and said "I'll be back", standing and moving his naked body to the kitchen, returning back a few minutes later with a bottle of water in hand. Popping the cap open, he tilted the bottle to your lips, encouraging you to take a sip. Grabbing it from his hands, you quenched your thirst while he watched you with a gentle and caring gaze.

Playing with your hair, he said “(Y/n) chan?”. You hummed in response and gazed at him, as you both laid down, naked bodies next to each other beneath the sheets that covered you.

“Aishiteru” he said in a muffled voice, hiding his face into the pillows on the bed.

“I love you too Satoru” you said, kissing his forehead.

“You’ll stay the night right?” He asked in a soft and timid voice.

“ ‘Course I will” you said with a soft smile, pulling him into you with hand resting on his waist. “I wanna start tomorrow right though” you said, closing your eyes.

“And.. what would that be?“ Satoru asked stifling a yawn.

“Being your girlfriend” you said in response.

Satoru went to bed as a happy and contented man that night with you right in his arms.

♱ Translations :

Hentai : Pervert (=_=)

Kochi : Here

Arigato : thanks

Domo : hello

Shitsureiyo : That's rude!

Aneki ka…? : An elder sister?

iie naiiiii : Don't have one (in a whiny voice)

Urusaina : Shut up

Sonotori : That's right

De wa : Well then

ikimasho : Shall we get going?

Kore de iie : This is good

wakarimashita : Understood

Hajimete da : It's my first time

Onegai : Please

aishiteru : I love you

Zutto ni aishiteru : I'll always love you

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk smut #gojo x female reader #gojo smut #gojo saturo x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu gojo #gojou satoru #gojou saturo #gojou x y/n #gojou smut #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

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skiyoosmi · 3 years

Text

post-break up heartaches

⤷ verse 2. in the dreams that we once shared

⤷ miya osamu, bokuto koutarou

⤷ verse 1 | verse 3

⤷ play. sorrow by sleeping at last, wrong direction by hailee steinfield

commissions: open

⇢ OSAMU stays still in his seat, melancholic eyes contrasting your bright ones while you twirl around in the middle of the ballroom. he admits, your dream wedding gown fit your figure perfectly as it flowed so gracefully the more you moved. but no beauty can compare to the happiness on your face as you danced with his previous volleyball teammate; the latter having a small smile on his face, not even having a single care about the funny looks you've been getting from your distant relatives. despite the minimal expression he adorns, to someone who has known him for a long time, it's clear as day just how ecstatic suna rintaro was to declare you as his wife, just as you were to call him your husband.

that could've been us, his mind screams all throughout the time he's been in the wedding ceremony, that could've been him dancing with you. he remembers little by little— how those smiles and laughters used to be solely for him whenever you try out his new recipes, from tasty to funny, how he used to be the one suddenly dragged to dance with you, how you used to dream of being married to him. him and only him.

but time was a cruel thing. he should've known better than to keep you waiting for more than so many years with nothing but empty and broken promises. i'll be done soon, yn, you know how much this means to me, this is my dream we're talking about here. stop being selfish please— he recalls himself telling you. he fails to see the disappointment and hurt that cross your eyes, fails to protect the already fragile relationship as you say your goodbye's to him a few more arguments and weeks later— i'm sorry for holding you back, samu. make sure to reach your dreams, okay?

i'm sorry. no matter how many times he says it, your fate was already done with him. you only needed him and he couldn't even give you that.

"hey there, stranger. wanna dance for a bit?"

he looks up, blinded by your brightness that almost seemed as if it mocked his sappy mood but he nods nevertheless, taking your hands as you pull him to the dance floor. in his peripheral view, he sees suna give him a wholehearted smile.

"you should stop frowning. it doesn't suit your face you know? what did you do to my lively samu?" you huff after a few minutes of nothing but silence and awkwardness while you swayed side to side with him, pouting when he shrugs, "you're such a gloomy ass! are you still in love with me or something?"

you swear it was supposed to be a joke, something to lighten the air between you two. but how were you supposed to laugh when he replied to you in the way you least expected?

"yeah, actually, i still am."

silence engulfed the two of you as you tried to overcome your shock. and for all the years he has been with you, it was painfully obvious that the answer he hopes for will not come. not now, not ever.

"samu... it's been—"

"i know. almost 8 years, is it? i know but i can't help it, yn. how could i when you're literally all i see everywhere i look?"

you fail to give him back a reply and (un)fortunately, he feels a tap on his shoulder and immediately, he knew it was time. he lets go of your waist and turns around, heart ready to get drowned by the bitter wine he's planning to drink all throughout the night, accompanied by the tears he won't be able to let out until he comes back to his hotel room.

"congratulations on your wedding, yn."

he ignores the hollowness inside him brought about by the unfinished conversation and goes back to his seat and repeats it like a mantra: not all fairytales get their happy ending.

and much to his dismay, his was one of those that don't.

⇢ BOKUTO was a star, luminous and blinding yet always longing to be part of the galaxy that held the awe of many other people. he was a child with dreams that wander all over the world and with confidence, he wants hear it, see that same world cheer for him.

he was an enormous star but his dreams were even bigger— and as he reaches out his hand to take more of what the universe can give him, he unknowingly lets go of yours.

"you look like you've dropped a huge shit on your underwear with the way you're staring down the court," konoha comments as he takes the seat he reserved beside you, hands deep in his pocket while he does so.

you glare at him, scoffing at his vulgar choice of words, "and you look like that shit, asshole. we haven't seen each other for so long and that's how you greet me?"

he laughs out loud, opening his arms and shoving you in them, "here! is this what you wanted instead? so adorable, yn! i knew you loved me at some point!"

you let out a series of groans, struggling to get out of his hold, "no! you're so annoying, get off me!"

he cackles, releasing you as the buzz rings out throughout the whole court, signaling the beginning of the match between msby and schweiden adlers. you shift in your seat, watching the players get introduced one by one, gasping when your ex-boyfriend literally does two cartwheels in his turn. is he... serious?

"where does he think he is... some kind of circus?" konoha snickers, shaking his head in amusement. oddly, you find yourself laughing with your companion. after all, this was typical bokuto, so full of energy and surprises.

"he looks... okay. very much okay," you bitterly state, placing your chin right on your palm as your arms and elbows rested on your lap. envy envelops your whole being as you watch him lively wave to the crowds, a large grin staying on his face. you huff silently, eyes trying to look at the other players but gravity seems to be playing its tricks on you as you find yourself reverting back to his figure. you wonder if time will let you become that happy someday.

"you're not...?" the lad beside you trails off, sighing when you shake your head 'no.'

"of course not yet, aki. it's not that i still love him or anything but he's just... he was everything, you know? he's become part of all my routines and now that he's gone, it... it just feels empty. like the dreams that used to help me sleep at night suddenly went away," he nods, not pushing you to say anything further. you both knew better than to have a shameful breakdown in public.

"god, i keep forgetting that the air conditioning in here is the worst," you grumble under your breath, rubbing your hands together to keep them from freezing out... because bokuto was no longer there to keep them warm, no longer there to offer you his own hands because you both forgot your gloves at home, no longer there to blow on them as if it was effective (it distracted you both at least), no longe—

"here, give me your hand," konoha reaches out to you, palms awaiting for yours to be in contact with his. you blink, surprised by his sudden offer, along with the pink hues that dusted both sides of his cheeks.

"we can't have them becoming numb, can we? i... i want to hold these hands for a very long time, you know?" he stutters as he begins rubbing both of your hands together, successfully getting rid of the cold and providing a new warmth you never expected will come sooner. oh... it's time, huh?

"uhm... yeah... thank you," you felt your face get hot. it seems like something... rather, someone has come to distract from the coldness you've been recently feeling.

"give me your days," he coughs out, still blushing. if anything, he's flushing even more now, "i'll fill the emptiness in them... and... and i can be your dream so you can sleep tight... and you'll be mine."

you gape at him, thousands of scenes flying through your mind but all of them led to one specific scenario.

"i... i have a lot of dreams, yn! i want to become a star player, someone who everyone will look up to and cheer for! and i... i think i want to focu—"

"i get it, bo. i'll get out of your way then. thank you... for everything."

"i-i'll be your dream?"

konoha chokes on his own saliva, "y-yeah! don't make me repeat it though, do you even know how cheesy that sounds? i can't believe i just said that, god... the things you make me do, you...!"

"okay."

it was his turn to blink, "e-eh?"

"i guess this is day one then?"

"eh?! wait... we... we're dating now, right?!"

"shut up now, aki."

as his golden eyes observe the two figures sitting by the stands, bokuto wishes he could've seen sooner that you were the one he had always been dreaming of, yearning for; wishes it could be him that was holding your hands again and he swears to whoever god there is, he won't let go of them anymore.

but then again, it seems like you were finally ready to wander with someone that wasn't him— who was he to stop you from doing so?

he was just a star;

you were the whole universe,

his universe.

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #osamu x reader #bokuto x reader #osamu headcanons #bokuto headcanons #haikyuu writings #haikyuu angst #miya osamu #bokuto kotaro #haikyuu fics #hq x reader #haikyuu hcs #post break-up heartaches

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silkenstarlight · 3 years

Text

blackbird's lullaby

Summary: After a rough day, Bucky can’t sleep. Reader decides to help.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warning/s: a bit of angst in regards to Bucky’s past, but the end is fluffy and sweet :)

Word count: 2.1k

Author’s note: something possessed me to write this instead of working on my finals, so here, enjoy the fruits of my academic negligence lol

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Do not repost or translate! Reblogs and comments are welcome and encouraged :))

Bucky’s side of the bed was cold when you woke.

You sighed deeply, wrenched from the arms of a dream, rubbing the heavy, lulling tug of sleep from your eyes. You were half awake, toeing the line between the violent brightness of a dreamscape and the hazy, blurred shadows of your bedroom. The warmth of the blankets wrapped around your limbs and threatened to pull you under again, but before you could succumb to their soft, enticing tangle, a singular thought rose in your mind from the murky depths of sleep. At first, it was quiet, a hushed voice in your brain whispering to you that you were alone. But then, the concern gained traction, and it blared in your skull with a deep, unnerving clarity, a nagging insistence that made your eyes snap back open.

Where the hell was Bucky?

You sat up in bed and looked at the alarm clock on your nightstand. 2:46 AM.

You frowned, turning to face Bucky’s empty pillow, and reached a hand out, lightly tracing the crisp, untouched folds. The sheets on his side of the bed were still flat and pristinely tucked, his pillow perfectly fluffed. He hadn’t bothered to try to sleep.

You knew why.

You peeled back the blankets and shivered, met instantly with the deep chill of night air as you unfolded yourself from your fleece and goose-down cocoon.

Bucky preferred to keep the apartment cold. You obliged, of course, bundling up in endless sweaters and blankets as he opened the windows wide and turned the rotary fan on full blast. You never questioned him about it, never asked if you could dial up the thermostat just a few degrees. You knew that keeping the apartment cold helped him to avoid the dreaded space of sleep, helped him to outrun the ever-looming specter of his nightmarish past. And, whenever he did come to bed, he gave you all of the blankets, covering his body with just the thin cotton layer of a bedsheet.

You knew that he rarely fell into a deep, nourishing slumber, so you tried to help boost his energy in other ways. Big, steaming pots of the strongest coffee you could brew, a fridge stocked with healthy snacks, and daily morning walks around the neighborhood together. He quietly thanked you for your efforts, pressing sweet kisses to your forehead and leaving fresh flowers in the vase on the kitchen table every Sunday. But, even though he preferred to stay awake, whenever you rolled over in bed to snuggle into his side and found that his eyes were still wide open, a hard lump rose in your throat and a worried pit formed in your stomach.

You swung your legs over the side of the bed and put on your slippers, grabbing one of Bucky’s sweatshirts and shrugging it on as you padded out to the kitchen. You just wanted to check on him and make sure that he was okay.

When he had returned from his mission earlier in the evening, he had seemed a little off to you. Usually, he was quiet, preferring to listen to you as ranted about your stressful workday or gushed about the newest book you were reading. He never wanted to talk much about himself, silently refusing to drag the horrors of his work into your home. It was where he felt at ease-- the plush pillows, the diffused, ambient lighting, the cloying scent of vanilla candles-- it was all so you. He didn’t want to taint the safety and warmth he felt when he was surrounded by your essence with the cold uncertainty and lingering shame of his work. Even though his missions nowadays were usually unrelated to his past as a clandestine Hydra operation, and even though the two jobs differed vastly in motive, he sometimes felt the creeping prick of deja vu traveling up his neck. Follow this person. Disable that vehicle. Shoot this opponent.

All of the lights in the apartment were off, so as you approached the kitchen, you used the bright white glow of your phone screen as a flashlight. You didn’t want to go directly to the living room and make it too obvious that you were checking on him. He would just shake you off if you did, insist that you go back to bed. So, you reached into the cupboard above the sink and grabbed a glass, turning on the faucet and filling it as you peered over the countertop, trying to pick out Bucky’s rigid frame amongst the inky shadows of the living room. You turned off the faucet and brought the glass to your lips, swallowing a couple of small sips.

“It’s late. Shouldn’t you be asleep?” The sound of Bucky’s voice coming from the couch made you jump, the thick glass of your cup clacking against your teeth. You placed it in the sink and walked over to the couch.

Despite the low light, you could see that Bucky was still wearing the clothes he had on when he came home from his mission. Gray tee, leather jacket, dark jeans. He hadn’t even taken off his heavy black boots.

You stepped slowly towards him, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, fighting the urge to bury him in a hug and pepper him with kisses. Instead, you sat next to him, leaving a little space between your body and his. Now, you could see his clenched jaw, his jittery, tapping fingers, and the jumping vein in his neck that only pulsed when he was stressed. His gaze was fixed on some indeterminate point on the wall in front of him, as if he were lost in thought.

This wasn’t a normal sleepless night. Something was wrong.

“I… I guess that I should be asking you the same question,” you said softly, voice gravelly and low from sleep.

He didn’t respond, just took a sharp inhale that made it sound like he was staving off tears.

You couldn’t help it. It was like your body could sense his distress. Your hand jerked up to rest on his shoulder, a subconscious reaction to his apparent suffering. You let it stay there, though, stroking your thumb lightly along the cool leather of his jacket.

He stirred from his reverie and turned to look at you. It was so dark, the curtains shut tight, not a single ray of moonlight filtering into the room, but the blue of his eyes shone bright, glistening with the wet sparkle of unshed tears. Sadness swelled in your chest.

“You can tell me,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m here to listen.”

His gaze dropped from your face, silently weighing your words. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you enough to open up. The truth was that he didn’t trust himself to speak. If he started talking, he wouldn’t be able to stop. And then, his demons would be given a voice, and the doors to this vanilla-scented, blanket-swathed haven would be wrenched open to the darkness that waited for him beyond the threshold.

But he could also see the way that his silence affected you. You frowned more on the mornings after he didn’t come to bed. You talked and talked and talked, trying to fill his ears with noise to distract him from the numbing static in his skull. And you were constantly touching him in some way, whether twining your lithe fingers around his thumb or draping your body on top of his in a warm, crushing hug. It was as if you didn’t want to let him out of your sight.

So, he let out a long exhale and reached up, taking your hand from its perch on his arm and twining his fingers tightly with yours. He idly stroked your palm with his thumb and decided to tell you the truth.

“I… I had a bit of a setback tonight.” He felt like he was wrenching the words from his throat. He couldn’t look at you, a deep sense of shame settling into his bones, but he stared at your hand held in his and felt the creeping self-doubt hesitate just a little.

“What do you mean?”

He dragged his eyes up to yours, blinking nervously. “I, uh--” he inhaled sharply and felt tears prick at his eyes. “Someone used my trigger words tonight. And it worked.”

Silence lay heavy between you as you digested what he said, but you didn’t pull away, didn’t pry your hand from his. You simply held his gaze.

“How is that possible?” He had gone through years of extensive mental treatment in Wakanda, the emotional scars that he suffered after years of lost identity and unwilling servitude seemingly healed. But, now, it seemed that one of those scars had re-opened.

“Ayo said that it was unlikely, but that it could happen. Relapse is a part of the process.” His voice was pained.

You nodded slightly, assenting to Ayo’s expertise. But Bucky’s next sentence made you fall apart at the seams.

“I thought I was different, after all these years. But I guess I haven’t changed. I’m still him.” He spat the last word, his face creasing into an expression of disgust.

You didn’t hesitate. “Come here.”

You gently separated your hand from his and reached up to his shoulders, guiding him towards you in a tight embrace. You wrapped your arms behind his neck and he pressed his chin into the notch between your shoulder and neck. As you began tracing your fingertips along his jacket collar, his chest heaved in desperate inhales, slow tears tracking down his cheeks developing into full, wracking sobs.

“You’re safe. I won’t let you go.” You pressed your mouth against his temple in a soft, soothing kiss.

“You were never him.” Although your voice was barely a whisper, it spoke volumes, your words ringing clear and true in the quiet stillness. Bucky shuddered, squeezing you close. You moved one of your hands up to cradle the back of his head.

You stayed like that for a long time, until you saw the blue light of dawn trickle through the gap beneath the curtains, but you didn’t say anything, waiting for Bucky to say what he needed. When his breath finally stilled into a regular rhythm, no longer halting and ragged, you pulled back and took his face in your hands, staring deeply into his eyes.

“I’m so tired.” His voice was flat and broken, but when you wiped a stray tear from his cheek with your pinkie, a small, grateful smile formed on his face.

You nodded. “Well, I know what will help. Come here.” You pulled back, shifting down the couch, guiding him with you with your hand wrapped around his arm. When he had enough space to lie down, you stopped, settling into your seat. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether he could risk falling asleep in his current emotional state, but he sighed, knowing that he needed to rest. He laid back, resting his head on your lap, and looked up at you.

You carded your fingers through his short hair, brushing it back from his forehead. He melted into the gentle gesture, relaxing into the couch, into the warmth of your body.

And then, you began to sing.

You were quiet at first, as if trying out the thought of singing him a lullaby. Your voice was tentative, trying out the feeling of the different notes in your mouth.

“Blackbird singing in the dead of night,

Take these broken wings and learn to fly.

All your life,

You were only waiting for this moment to arise.”

You thought that your voice was nothing special, your untrained, warbling syllables rushing from your lips in a breathy exhale. But Bucky loved it. The way you let your words flow together, followed by a long, lilting end note and a pause to inhale-- it was sweet and soft and so very you.

“Blackbird singing in the dead of night,

Take these sunken eyes and learn to see.

All your life,

You were only waiting for this moment to be free.”

He could feel it already, the lull of an encroaching dream. His first instinct was to fight it, to blink the sleep from his eyes, but he let his lids shut, blocking out every sense except for the sound of your voice.

“Blackbird fly, blackbird fly,

Into the light of a dark black night.”

And, as he welcomed the embrace of sleep, your voice followed him, a glowing amber halo of warmth that pushed the dark away and lit his path into the space of dreams.

“All your life,

You were only waiting for this moment to arise.”

He dreamt of blackbirds and forehead kisses, of vanilla candles and forgiveness.

He dreamt of you.

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dorotharry · 3 years

Text

tiny dancer ; chapter three

Pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 4 (coming soon)

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: pain, angst, nightmares, metal limbs?

Summary: After being drafted for the war in 1942, Bucky goes to the ballet a week before having to leave with his best friend Steve. There he becomes infatuated you with the prima ballerina of the show, and he just has to meet you before his last week in Brooklyn is up. He hopes one day you would meet again; little does it know it will be 72 years later.

A/N: Well, hello again, honestly after yesterday I really wanted to write again soon so I could start giving more away. Eep so exciting, thank you again for all your support too!! Please feel free to like, repost and comment any feedback, it’s much appreciated :)) Also lets just ignore that infinity war is a thing for the moment lolz.

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*gif not mine

“Nice to finally meet you y/n, I’ve been looking for you under Fury’s instruction for a while, my name’s Natasha.”

Natasha. It rang in your ears, there was some familiarity to that name. You kept your face blank, but for some reason it felt like you’d known her in a past life, or perhaps a life you didn’t remember. Though her face gave no indication that she knew either. But a younger version of her face flashed in your mind, only she wasn’t blonde she had bright red hair. You shook yourself from your thoughts, Natasha was a common name, surely you couldn’t know her. Surely.

“Come in,” you responded moving to the side as the women eyed you as she entered. She had to be around a similar age to you. At least in looks, you were at least a century year old in reality. “Did you want something to drink?” You said as you shut the door and gestured to the couch nearby.

The blonde shook her head, taking a seat her gaze still wary. “You’re probably curious to know why I’m here and who I am?”

You nodded as you took a seat on the second couch, it wasn’t often you had visitors.

“Well, I’m sure you’ve heard of the Avengers,” She started.

That’s where you knew her from! She’d swapped her red hair for blonde and suddenly you felt less confused.

“I’m a part of it, and our director Fury has been sending me on mission after mission looking for you. It’s only now we got a tip that you were living in Madripoor.”

You almost wanted to interrupt and ask who had tipped them off, but you thought better of it. You rose an eyebrow at her comment, giving her an expression that told her to continue.

“Anyway, I’m here because we wanted to bring you back to the compound. You’ve been hidden away from us for a long time. In fact, the only reason we know you exist is because of the HYDRA files I shared in 2014. We hoped you could give us some intel; we think something big is going to happen again, but we aren’t sure if it’s HYDRA or something else.” She looked at you again, a serious expression on her face.

Yours matched hers. “You should know I don’t do that anymore, I don’t work as an assassin,” you began suddenly feeling more vulnerable as the terrible things you had done came back up in your memories.

Natasha cut you off sensing your distress. “We aren’t asking you to, we just need your knowledge. Whilst I know Fury wants you to join us in the long run and start fighting again, we also respect your decision not to if that’s what you want.”

You looked at her sceptically, had she not heard what you had just said? Plus, now your cover in Madripoor was blown, if the Avengers knew where you were then surely it wouldn’t be long until every other government in the world would too. You were sure there were many people who wanted you dead.

As if she had heard your thoughts Natasha spoke up again, “don’t worry, if you turn down helping us, no one but Fury and I know you’re here. Not even Steve.”

You silently gasped, you had forgotten about Steve in these brief moments, he was captain America back then, in fact he was still Captain America. Even if you would be throwing yourself back into the line of fire, maybe it would be worth it to see your old friend again. Would he want to see you though? After everything awful thing, you had done. Your eyes began to well again, but you didn’t want Natasha to see you vulnerable.

“Fine.” You spoke sternly looking at the woman in front of you, “I will help, but only if you promise that you avengers will protect me. There’s a lot of people who want me in chains.”

You could see the hint of a smile on her face as she listened, “Don’t worry y/n, we have ways around that,” she smirked. “I don’t exactly have the cleanest record either.”

You nodded, standing up. You knew now if you were leaving that you could never return to Madripoor. If you chose not to fight with the Avengers after helping them, then at least you were sure they could protect you and finally you could maybe be back home. “Where to then?”

Natasha told you to get anything valuable, some clothes and anything else you felt you needed. Luckily for her, you always kept a duffle bag with everything you needed if you had to leave under you bed, along with the shot gun that had been in your hand this entire time till.

You walked to your room, grabbed the duffle bad and your other favourite weapons in another bag and returned in under a minute. Natasha let out a chuckle, she should have known an assassin was always prepared to flee. Something they all knew, never get too comfortable.

Natasha led you out of your apartment, you close the door behind you both and follow her. It felt strange to be taking from directions from anyone else. Besides HYDRA you had always been the person in charge, choosing what you did without direction. But unless you miraculously knew how you’d be getting back to the Avengers compound this seemed like a time you would have to not be stubborn.

She led you to a jet, gesturing you to get on before she did herself. She walked to the front closing the door and sitting in the pilot’s seat. “Feel free to have a sleep.” She said casual pointing to the bed next to you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled going and lying down. After having no sleep, you wouldn’t complain, and it would save you having to make small talk with Natasha. Plus, usually you didn’t have nightmares in you ever occasionally napped.

Natasha answered a call and began telling someone (who you assumed was Fury) that you were coming back with her, just as your eyes were filled with the darkness of sleep.

1943

You woke up once again your entire body in pain. Although this time it was different, and though you remembered where you were much of your memories were feeling fuzzy. Like someone had attempted to begin removing them.

That couldn’t be possible though, could it?

There was an ache on your face, remembering your last memory before you had been engulfed in darkness again. You were sure there would be marks from whatever machine had done that to you, wincing at the thought of the pain again.

But besides there being the same pains you had felt before, there was something different. You were still restricted by your arms and legs in the same position but now you had a heart monitor attached, the faint beeping being the only noise you could hear in the silent and dark room. This wasn’t a room though, it was a lab you knew that now, and you were a lab rat to the red skull and his scientists. Why would they care if my heart is still beating? You pondered.

Once again you pushed against your restraints in an attempt to get out, the leather digging into your skin causing you to wince due to how in pain your body already was. But again as you’d thought earlier, there was something different, yes your arms were wincing at the pain from the leather but your legs felt nothing. You moved your toes and felt no sensations. It was as if they were numb. What had HYDRA done?

As if on cue the laboratory door opened, the same scientist from before entering and two soldiers following behind him. The door slammed closed as the soldiers stayed there on each side of the door. Just in case you got out of your restraints again.

The scientist shuffled forward. “How are you feeling y/n? I realised I forgot the other day to introduce myself, I’m Arnim Zola but you can call me Doctor Zola.”

You sneered as his friendly attitude, causing him to frown. “I can’t feel my legs.” You responded in a harsh tone, “Why?”

“Well y/n, I told you that you would become a soldier for the red skull did I not? Now I understand you’re a ballerina but there’s something wrong with this. You see you always want to be perfect, and what makes you not is among many things your feet.” He looked down proudly at your legs.

The words rang in your ear. Your harsh glare to seem mean had softened as your eyes began to water. “Wh-- what have you done?” You began blubbering, your chest fell up and down panic striking your lungs.

“I’ve made you perfect.” He responded without remorse. Instantly he signalled for the men that had been stood by the door this entire time to come over. They did so, grabbing parts of your body so you were even more restricted that you already were as Doctor Zola walked to the foot of the table you were on. Slowly he undid one of the leather straps restricting your leg. You couldn’t even feel him doing it, your senses not working.

He lifted your right leg so that you could gaze down and what you saw only made your panic attack rise. You shrieked at the sight before you. Your eyes welling more and more with tears. You could hear the heart monitor beginning to pick up in noise, as you heart raced.

From halfway down your calf was what looked like a metal leg and foot. It looked exactly like what legs should be, but it wasn’t. It was silver and cold. Down the side of your calf nearing your ankle was a red star.

Tears rolled down your face as he placed your leg back down strapping it back up, then signalling the men holding you down to move away again.

You would have preferred to die then lose your feet. Your mind wandered as your chest rose and fell so quickly that the world around you began to spin. Would you ever be able to dance again?

Doctor Zola was now next to you again, his face held no remorse, in fact all you could see was pride. Even though the world was spinning, and you couldn’t focus on him you knew he didn’t care. “Don’t worry y/n, after today you won’t care about this. You won’t even remember who you are, only who we tell you are. From now on you aren’t y/n anymore. I’ll see you again when you’re ready to comply.”

The same machine from earlier then began to make noises lowering down to your head. Doctor Zola began rambling Russian words you couldn’t understand, the immense pain began again, and you screeched out in pain.

Present day; 2017

Gasping for air you shot up on the bed on the jet. Natasha looked back at you and instantly you dropped your fearful expression into one that was unreadable. No one would know your nightmares, no one could know you had weaknesses.

Luckily her gaze didn’t last long as she spoke up, “We’re here.” She was just glad she wouldn’t have to wake you up. She stood up, you following her lead out of the jet and towards a large white building with a big ‘A’ on the side.

“Jeez subtle.” You scoffed muttering under your breath.

She rolled her eyes at your comment but proceeded to walk into the building. “I’m sure you’ve heard about most of us. So, I feel there’s no need to explain to you, our names.”

She was right there, of course you knew their names, the whole world did. You hummed in response. She led you both to two big double doors pushing them open as you trailed behind. You may have been as assassin but that didn’t mean you were particularly keen on meeting new people, especially all at once. It took a while for people to come to your liking.

She stopped and you stood almost completely behind her looking down at your hands. You never looked at your feet anymore. The noise of all the voices talking amongst each other suddenly stopped and you could feel all of their eyes on you both.

“Everyone this is y/n, she’s going to help us with our current task we’ve been working on.” She spoke sternly but giving them all a small smile.

You raised your head reminding yourself to not be vulnerable and narrowed your eyes as you scanned them all. Of course, most of already knew who you were having read your files when she released them; each giving you sympathetic looks mixed with fear. But not Steve he never had the heart to look at yours and Bucky’s files. If he ever saw you both again, he knew in time you’d tell him.

Finally, you were met with a familiar set on blue eyes, not the ones you had fallen in love with but still ones who once meant so much to you. Now you weren’t so sure.

Steve looked like he was going to die of shock, as he stared at you with such intensity.

He took a step towards you, “y/n?”, his eyes searching for you to show some sort of emotion. But you didn’t, you couldn’t. You took another step back, away from him, the hurt instantly flashing across his face, but as soon as it was there it was gone.

“Hi Steve.”

A/N: ooo we love the tension. how does reader know Natasha?? is it just cause she's an avenger or is it something else? I’ll guess you'll have to see *evil face*

P.S. we’ll see Bucky again soon I promiseeeee

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Taglist: (let me know if you want to be tagged)

@maybe-a-marvel @thatredlipped-classic @flightsandfantasy @7minutes-tomidnight @rebelemilu @cataves

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fandom-imagines-stories · 3 years

Text

Meet the Mikaelsons

Enzo St. John x Mikaelson Reader

Words: 2363

Part 2 of 4: Part One

Summary: The engagement is official! You and your new fiance, Enzo, travel down to the spot of the big day; New Orleans. With wedding plans already in mind, your announcement to your family goes much better than Enzo expected. Now all he has to do is survive your brothers until the ceremony.

Note: This might be my favorite chapter to write for the fact that I get to come up with the Mikaelsons’ reaction to the reader getting married. Especially to Enzo. Plus some Klaus drama and precious Elijah? My cup of tea, and I hope that it is yours as well! (Repost: I forgot how much I love writing Elijah and Klaus! Reading this made me so nostalgic. I know that Vampire Diaries/Originals doesn’t get read as much anymore, but I really hope there are some of you out there that love them as much as I do.)

Road trips with Enzo were always some of your favorite memories. Whether it was belting to the music on the radio or just riding in silence, listening to each other’s breathing move along with the hum of the engine, they always managed to bring a smile to your face, as well as his.

But the buzz of the road died as soon as your bags hit the sidewalk outside the compound. The city sounds fell deaf on your ears, turned off by the sound of your heartbeat. The last time you were here, it was to scatter the ashes of your oldest brother Finn. Enzo had helped numb the ache that came from missing your siblings, but now, standing merely feet away from seeing them again, the feeling was almost unbearable. Excitement and worry mixed within you to the point that it was suffocating. Seeing the look on your face, Enzo gently grabbed your hand and gave you a small smile.

“It’s alright love.” He slowly led you into the entrance. You gripped the bars of the gate and looked around inside.

“Freya?” You called into the courtyard. At first, there was just that still silence, but then the clicking of footsteps cut through the quiet. The oldest Mikaelson came into your view, curiosity spread across her features.

“Y/N?” She shrieked excitedly. With a wave of her hand, the gate opened and you were captured in your sister’s embrace. She pulled you further into the compound, but you stopped her.

“Um, I brought a guest.” You stepped to the side, revealing the terrified vampire behind you. Enzo waved awkwardly, waiting to be invited inside. Freya watched him cautiously.

“Come in.” She said slowly. He stepped across the threshold and laced his fingers through yours again. You ignored her skeptical glances at your fiance and pulled her into your arms.

“I’ve missed you so much.” You breathed into her blonde hair. It was shorter than it was the last time you last saw her. Tears welled in your eyes, taking in every sound of the compound, filling your head with them. You were home.

Freya stepped away from you.

“I’ve missed you too, little sister.” She smiled brightly at you, then turned her attention to Enzo. “And who, may I ask, is this?” He started to introduce himself, but yet another voice cut him off.

“Y/N!” Rebekah sped over to you and nearly tackled you to the ground with an infamous bear hug. “You know it’s rude to visit without calling us first.” She scolded playfully.

“I wanted it to be a surprise!” You laughed. There was a light murmur coming from upstairs. Three people in a deep conversation. “And the boys are arguing, no doubt?” She smirked.

“They won’t be once they see that you’re here.” You placed a hand on your younger sister’s face.

“When has that ever stopped them before?” You snickered. Like Freya, her eyes fell on Enzo, her head cocking to the side.

“And who might this heartbreaker be?” She asked. Enzo put on his dashing grin and bowed.

“Lorenzo St. John. Friends call me Enzo.” He greeted. You couldn’t help the smile creeping onto your face. He was quite the charmer. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, Rebekah shook his hand. Enzo tried not to wince at her incredibly strong grip.

“I’ve heard about you, Enzo. I have some friends back in Mystic Falls, and they tell me that you’re a troublemaker.” Rebekah stepped closer to him, her expression a dare for him to retaliate and give her a reason to tear him to pieces. He chuckled.

“Yes well, from what I’ve been told, I should fit right in here.” Rebekah raised an eyebrow at his confidence. You snickered. She shrugged her shoulders as if to say ‘Fair enough’ and sat down on the sofa. Enzo whispered. “That wasn’t so bad.”

“She wasn’t the one you needed to worry about.”

Your eyes darted upsards as your three brothers emerged from the room above you, looking down into the courtyard, their expressions menacingly serious. Your heart was beating faster than you could speed up the stairs and into Elijah’s waiting arms.

“Elijah! How I’ve missed you.” The tears were openly streaming down your face as he held the back of your head in his hand, his other arm wrapped tightly around you. Behind him, someone coughed in annoyance. The two of you pulled away.

“No, no, continue.” Kol crossed his arms in a dramatic fashion. “It’s not like I’m her twin brother or anything…” Laughing through your tears of happiness, you ruffled Kol’s hair and hugged him as well.

“Are you ready to cause mischief for our siblings?” You challenged, your twin grinning maniacally.

“Always, dear sister.” He cheered. You turned to greet the third brother, but Klaus was still staring down into the courtyard at a semi-nervous Enzo.

“How rude of you Y/N, to not introduce us to our new guest.” Klaus turned to you, eyebrows raised and hands clasped behind his back. You placed a loving kiss on his cheek.

“I missed you too, Nik.” You leaped over the railing, landing gracefully on your feet. You wrapped your arm around Enzo. “Everyone, this is Enzo.” A deep breath filled you with confidence as you looked up at your brothers. “We are engaged.”

At first there was a shocked silence, but to everyone’s surprise, Klaus’ laughter rang through the compound.

“No you’re not.” He grinned wildly at the two of you and poured himself a drink.

“Yes we are, Nik.” You scoffed. He shook his head, still chuckling deeply. “What? Why is that such an impossible thought?”

“Because I know you, Y/N. You’re not exactly the type to chain yourself to one person for eternity. Especially not someone you met in dreary Mystic Falls.”

“Well I think we both know that people in Mystic Falls can be quite charming. Isn’t that right, Klaus?” You snapped. His face went red. You knew very well about his infatuation with Caroline. Elijah shifted uncomfortably, keeping his eyes solely on you. Kol jumped down to join you, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“This calls for celebration! Not only has the prodigal sister returned, she has brought a new member to the family. I say we all head to Rousseau's for a drink.” He proposed, but the rest of the family wasn’t as sure.

“You don’t care what is going on as long as it means a round of drinks, do you?” Rebekah snapped at her wily older brother. She turned to you, and her scowl slowly spread into a smile. “But I suppose a wedding wouldn’t be such a bad idea…” You squealed with excitement and pulled her into another bear hug. “What can I say; I’m a hopeless romantic.” You pulled away and shot Enzo a look as if to say ‘I told you’. Elijah slowly walked down the stairs, not saying a word, his expression unreadable.

“Eli?” You stepped towards him cautiously. Of all of your siblings, you wanted his approval the most. Of course, you wanted everyone to love Enzo as much as you did, but Elijah was different. He would hide his true feelings if it meant pleasing everyone else. You just wanted him to be deeply and truly happy for you. After a moment of your stares, he finally smirked and shrugged his shoulders. He took your face in his hands and softly kissed your forehead with a small smile.

“I’m just happy you’re home.”

“Thank you thank you thank you!” You squealed, wrapping your arms around your big brother’s neck. He chuckled and shot Klaus a warning glance over your shoulder. He held up his hands innocently with a coy smile.

“What do you say…” Klaus was off of the balcony and in front of him in a blink. “Enzo?” He questioned, taking a step towards the much younger vampire. Through his nerves, Enzo smiled back, flashing his teeth.

“Drinks on me.”

After a round of bourbon and whiskey, the whole family settled back to the compound for the night, with you and Enzo taking your usual room. You flopped down onto the bed, giggling like a little schoolgirl. Enzo laid down next to you, grinning at your happiness.

“I can’t believe I’m home!” You sighed merrily. Enzo played with a strand of your hair, twirling it around his finger.

“I can definitely see that I have my work cut out for me.” He smirked. You bit your lip.

“You hate them, don’t you.” You pouted, running your fingers through your hair. “I know that they can be difficult and dramatic but-”

“I don’t hate your family.” Enzo interrupted, his deep laugh sending waves through you. “I just don’t think they like me very much.”

“They’ll learn to love you, I promise.” You pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss. “I’m just worried Klaus won’t let them have the chance.”

“So am I.” He muttered. A knock at the door alerted you both. You scrambled away from your fiancé.

“Come in!” You shouted and the knob turned. Elijah stepped into the room and you could practically feel Enzo’s relief. Elijah sensed his nervousness as well and smirked.

“I hope that you are feeling at home, Lorenzo. I know that we can be…difficult to adjust to.” He stood with his hands clasped in front of him, like he had some great matter to discuss. “Y/N, I was wondering if I could have a word with you before you settled in for the night.”

“Uh, yeah.” You said, feeling slightly skeptical. Enzo shook his head frantically, worrying that this may be a plot to get him in the room alone so that Klaus could pounce. You shot him a glare before following your brother into the library down the hall.

“I see that your fiancé isn’t quite used to Niklaus’ hospitality.” Elijah chuckled. You cringed.

“Yeah… I think they just need a little time.”

“I believe a few decades will do.” He noted with a smile. The two of you laughed. His expression became serious. “Y/N, I am not going to try and change your mind about marrying Lorenzo.” You opened your mouth to object, but he cut you off with a wave of his hand. “I just hope you know what you’re getting into.”

“I’ve lived for a thousand years, Eli. I think I know that marriages can be difficult.” You scoffed. Elijah sighed.

“That is not what I meant.” He watched you intensely. “You are bringing him into our family. Our enemies will become his. Lorenzo is much more vulnerable than you and I. He can be killed just as easily as any other vampire.”

“Enzo knows all of this. And he can handle himself.” You protested. “Besides, we will be there to protect him.” Elijah put a hand on your shoulder.

“I want you to be happy, Y/N. I truly do.” He looked deeply into your eyes, trying to get his point across. “I simply don’t want to see you lose Lorenzo the way Hayley lost Jackson.” You remembered the day that Hayley called you to tell you that Jackson had been killed. You had grown close to the kind werewolf, and finding out about his death had been crushing.

“You’re right.” You sighed, closing your eyes so you weren’t looking into your brother’s concerned stare anymore. “I hadn’t even really thought of the danger I would be putting him in....” You blew out a long frustrated breath. “Maybe this was a bad idea. I mean, what was I really thinking? That I could just force him into our family? I thought that it would fix everything but maybe I just wanted to rush into this so he couldn’t run away. Maybe I should just call everything off. Let him find someone who’s rivalries don’t extend back to the 12th century.” You ranted until you were out of breath.

He was right, of course. Your noble big brother was always right. Enzo didn’t just have Klaus to worry about, though he was certainly a big enough problem on his own. Your panic was evident and you started to pace. Elijah grabbed your arms and forced you to look at him again.

“Y/N, do you love him?” He questioned, taking you off guard.

“What?”

“It is a simple question, dear sister.” He laughed. “Do you love Lorenzo?” You took a deep breath.

“Of course I love him, Elijah. I asked him to marry me!” You exclaimed. “But-”

“Marry him.” He interrupted. “If there is one thing I have learned from loving Hayley, it is that we never know which day could be our last together. I wake up everyday knowing that I could lose her. But when I see her next to me, I realize that we must cherish what we have instead of living in the fear of losing it.” He placed a caring hand on your cheek.

“Is this your way giving me your blessing?” You asked, feeling slightly confused.

“I suppose you could call it that.” He smirked and you nearly tackled him in a hug. You pulled away.

“There is one more thing I need you to do.” You bit your lip anxiously. “Make sure that Nik doesn’t make a massacre of my future husband?”

“I’ll do my best.” Elijah snickered. “And do make sure he doesn’t do anything to aggravate Niklaus.”

“Klaus would be more infuriated if he didn’t put up a fight.” You grinned and started out of the library door. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Elijah called back. “And do keep the noise down. We do all have enhanced hearing, remember?”

You laughed as you raced back down the hall into your room. Enzo was pacing in front of the bed, nerves clearly still on edge. When he saw you, his eyes immediately went wide.

“What did he-” He started, but he was quickly interrupted by your ecstatic kiss, knocking him over onto the bed. He pushed you back, surprised by your sudden enthusiasm. “Y/N, what did your brother say?”

“We’re going to be married!” You squealed, coming in for another kiss.

Keep Reading to: Get Me to the Church On Time

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

#enzo st. john x reader #lorenzo st john #elijah mikaelson #mikaelson reader #klaus mikaelson #always and forever #the originals #the vampire diaries #i love my vampire boys #michael malarkey #Daniel Gillies #Joseph Morgan #rebekah mikaelson #kol mikaelson #freya mikaelson

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sparklingchan · 4 years

Text

Dancing with a Stranger || Lee Minho (Stray Kids)

Pairing : Reader (fem.) x Lee Know

Word count: 6k+

Warnings: Cuss words, mentions of alcohol, mentions of a break up, slight violence and blood (its nothing intense, I swear) ,suggestive towards the end, not proof read.

Genre: Angst , fluff, boyfriend AU , break up - make up AU.

Description : Lee Minho is the best boyfriend you could have ever asked for but when you end up doing the only thing he had begged you not to do, things start going downhill.

Author’s Note: I KNOW I SAID I’LL POST THIS ON MY BIRTHDAY but I am an impatient person and I really wanted everyone to read this asap :( This imagine is one of my personal favorites and like Boyfriend!Minho really hits different, won’t you agree? (Reposting because tumblr decided to be a bitch and not show up my fic in the tags? It’s 2 AM and I’m legit crying?? I was so excited about this) Yeh le @chogiwow !

Please do reblog, like and send in your views about this fic. I’m always happy to receive DMs and asks!

Enjoy!

It is really funny how a crowded, happening place like your college corridor turns into a cold ,eerie location of some prospective gruesome crimes by sun down. But then again , if you really think about it , maybe it’s not much of a ‘prospect’ at all.

Your knuckles start stinging first ,spreading then to your palm and the rest of your arm.

And the horrifying yet unavoidable realization finally dawns on you - you shouldn’t have punched your professor’s daughter.

“Y-you! You bitch! How dare you touch me?” She has this annoyingly loud voice that pierces through the tense air like a bullet. The prettiest girl on campus , the nicest of them all, the most desirable , but anyone who sees her right now, would be convinced she is neither of those things. Excluding you , of course , because you always knew how double faced and rude she was behind the mask of a pure princess.

“You should have kept your mouth shut then, Anya.” You say , hoping that the girl in front of you doesn’t notice the sudden fear in your voice that has replaced your authoritative tone from before.

But you can’t back off now.

Anya stumbles back with her mouth wide open , clutching her jaw as she curses under her breath , “My mother will hear about this ! I will get you expelled !”

“Oh yeah? Try me and the only thing your mother will hear about is what you and our lovely class president John do in the basement when she isn’t home.” You shoot back. You mentally want to slap yourself for that sharp tongue of yours that refuses to stop any time sooner. You had always wished that you’d gotten your father’s gentleness but sadly , you were the fateful heir of your mother’s roughness.

Anya doesn’t reply , instead , she throws herself at you , pushing you harshly against the lockers .And it is not long before her balled fists find a way to your nose , punching so hard that you literally feel the blood dripping down your face. You are so glad that all the students and staff have already gone home , you’d have hated for anyone to witness this.

“You will never lay your filthy hands on me again, y/l/n. ” she wraps her left hand around your throat while the other one pulls your hair with the strength of a bull. You scream in pain. Your body goes limp for a second - not from pain but from fear , but you realise it’s too late now. You should have thought about your fears before punching Anya.

Now all you can do is save yourself and escape.

The numbing pain from your scalp spreads through your head , going down your face and then attacking your throat. It gets harder to breathe.

“I’ll tell you what , Anya , you deserved it. You deserved all of it. ” you croak , “I told you to stop spreading filthy rumours about my cousin but you didn’t stop , I told you to stop bothering me but you didn’t listen. And now you’ve gone as far as spreading bullshit about my boyfriend who you’ve never even met ! I hate to break this to you but all of this is not going to make your trash personality any cooler. ”

Anya yelps with anger , increasing the grip on your throat and hair as you kick your legs helplessly, coughing .

“Shut up, y/l/n .” She growls , “ and as a matter of fact, Your boyfriend is just a mere dancer , how funny. An A-grade college student dating a poor street dancer. What happened , y/n, ran out of good guys for yourself?”

You want to yell at her and tell her that Minho is anything but a mere street dancer . He’s an amazingly talented artist who loves expressing himself through dancing , he’s a hardworking and honest person who is part of the country’s biggest dancing crew , and he’s your safe place , your home , your everything and god save anyone who dare hurt him.

But you bite your tongue this time.

“What now? Afraid ?” Anya raises her eyebrow, her lips curving into an ugly, sadistic smile.

You hate that smile.

You use one of your free hands to grab her hair while the other one slams hard against her jaw.

“Shit.” She mutters , falling back into the hallway.

But you’re not done yet.

You walk toward her with furious eyes and balled fists , and it isn’t long before she lands on the floor on her butt with a bloody nose and a black eye.

“Keep your mouth shut or you’ll end up on a hospital bed next time. In a coma. ” you spit out those words while she holds her tears back, face caked with humiliation.

Then you turn on your heels and walk out of the stupid college campus which would yet again be filled with more bullies by tomorrow morning, just like it has for centuries.

The dorm in which Minho lives almost always smells like freshly baked cookies ( courtesy: Lee Felix) and on rare occasions, it smells like burnt pancakes ( also courtesy: Lee Felix). Today , it smells like the former and you sigh in relief.

“Oh , my god ,y/n. What happened?” Changbin opens the door after you knock thrice , “Minho, dude, Come out , y/n is here!”

You shuffle into their big living room , head hanging low and eyes avoiding all sorts of confrontation , afraid of having to explain your stupid behavior.

“Y/n?” Minho sucks in a deep breath at your sorry sight , his eyes glazed with dread and fear as he walks toward you, ”Oh god, what happened?”

He swiftly takes out a handkerchief from his pockets , pressing it against your bleeding nose. His eyes are glossy with fear.

“I-it’s nothing. I fell down the stairs.” You lie. Can he please shut up and hug you already? You hate his questions so much , especially when you just can’t answer him.

“Y/n , that is not what a fall looks like. I’m not stupid. Whom did you beat up this time?” He asks , crossing his arms across his chest. And you really do almost blurt out the truth because it’s that easy for you to open up to him and because he knows you like no one else does. You’ve dated him long enough for him to know you like the back of his own hand. And that sometimes gets you in so much trouble. Lying to him is a near impossible task.

“Y/n, look at me!” He says , slightly annoyed now. He touches your chin gently, coaxing you to look at him but you’re too afraid to face him right now. Too guilty. So you shrug him off and walk into his shared room with Hyunjin, a homely feeling enveloping you almost instantly.

“Y/n, don’t you dare ignore me.”

Ugh. He can be so nosy at times.

“I came here for comfort , not for an interrogation. ” you pout , plopping down on the bed.

Minho scoffs , closing the door behind him. He wears a loose black t-shirt with a pair of shorts , and he smells like the expensive shampoo you had bought for him a few months ago ,which he initially refused to take but now loves it. He looks so good and smells so good and suddenly all you want to do is cuddle him and talk about his day, with his Winnie The Pooh blanket draped around your bodies.

“You aren’t getting any comfort till you tell me what happened.” He says . He stands with his back against the door , and stares at you as if you were a criminal. Maybe you were one ,but that doesn’t mean he’ll hate you or something ,right?

“Did you hit the professor’s daughter?” He asks when you don’t answer even after two whole minutes. Your stomach does a somersault, adrenaline coursing through your veins. You regret telling him about Anya a few weeks ago and you specifically saying that you’d one day ’ punch her brains out ’. You wish you’d shut up sometimes.

You play with your fingers, staring at your feet. You can’t look him in the eye anymore , not when you did the exact (and only) thing he had asked you not to do. You feel horribly guilty.

“Well in my defense, she was being a bitch ,okay? She was calling you a good for nothing dancer and ugly and underqualified and - ” you sigh , “ My point is, I couldn’t bear listening to all that, okay?” You admit , cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Minho doesn’t answer, very unusual of him by the way, and you snap your head to look at him.

The eyes that had once held concern and fear for your well being now are clouded with disappointment . He’s mad at you.

“She’s not wrong though. I am a good for nothing dancer, I go to a stupid cyber college. Nothing worth fighting over. Why the fuck did you put yourself in danger like that!” And he’s yelling now , his relaxed posture from before now replaced with a tensed one. You notice his clenched fists and teeth ,and you shudder with fear. He is furious. But at what? You don’t really know.

“Are you seriously justifying her actions? Minho, she can’t talk shit about you. I will not let her do that! ” You yell back ,getting up from the bed , “She doesn’t even know you!”

“Which is exactly why her opinions on my lifestyle do not matter ! And you don’t have to just go around acting like my bodyguard all the time!” He says.

Your heart drops, brows furrowed in confusion at his words that feel like a dagger is plunged into your heart.

You walk up to him, trying to take his hand in yours but he extracts it right back. “I’m sorry, okay? I wasn’t thinking. You know how crazy I get when I’m angry.”

“A ’ sorry ’ doesn’t suffice it. The damage is already done. And if tomorrow, you are thrown out of the university, who’s fault would it be? ” he presses his hand to his face, trying to calm himself down , “I can’t believe I am dating such an immature woman ,y /n. Grow the fuck up, will you?” He says , his anger filled eyes staring right into your soul . Your heart breaks into millions of small pieces , as your breath hitches in your throat. He had never said something so harsh to you in the many years that you’ve dated him and you really wish he hadn’t done it today either because you realise you’re not very good at handling hurtful words, especially from Minho. At all.

“Minho , I know you’re angry - ”

“Leave.” The world stops spinning for a second , your eyes widening with shock, “Go home. Don’t come back again.”

You want to cry but tears seemed to have given up on you too , his words striking you harder than any of Anya’s punches ever did. All your feelings seem to have converted into a much worse state of numbness when those words leave his mouth.

“Y-you are not breaking up with me, right?” Your usually loud voice comes out as a whisper.

“I am. Go, please. I don’t want to see you right now.” He opens the room door for you to exit, his eyes never meeting yours. His lower lip is caught between his teeth, a sign that he’s about to tear up yet you don’t know if he wants too be comforted by you right now, or ever. So picking up the remaining pieces of your damaged heart , you walk out of the room , stopping only to glance over at him one last time , in hopes that he’d change his mind. But no, his angry demeanor is still there , strong and tough and unbreakable.

And when you finally leave , Minho is grateful that Hyunjin wasn’t home - for he would have hated to cry in front of his roommate.

The bright neon sign with ’ Kim’s Restaurant ’ written on it shines in the distance , blurred only by the tears in your eyes and not by the tiny droplets of water slowly falling from the sky.

You feel a soft blanket of comfort draping over you when you walk toward the familiar building.

Your aunt and uncle have worked hard to build a proper business from a small shop that had once just sold fried chicken and cold drinks ; and it makes you so happy to see their new restaurant still packed with people this late in the evening.

“Oh , y/n. I was just about to call you. Did you not go to your dorm yet? ” your aunt asks from the reception desk , chewing her favorite gum and typing aggressively into the computer.

“I stayed back today. Project work.” You lie. Your aunt lifts up her head , her eyebrows knitted together and a suspicious scowl gracing her face , almost mimicking your mother. Your mom and your aunt are twin sisters , born just three minutes apart , and since then it has become your mom’s life mission to remind your aunt of the whooping three minute gap every chance she gets. It’s hilarious, really.

“Don’t make that face at me. You look exactly like mom.” You mutter , leaning against the wooden desk.

“I do look exactly like your mom , y/n. ” she replies with a chuckle, “Anyway, what’s going on? You look tired.”

Honestly, you’d love to talk about Minho and the impulsive breakup and the aching in your heart with your aunt because there’s no better person to seek advice from, but you don’t feel it right to burden her when she’s working plus a part of you doesn’t really trust your aunt to keep all the secrets to herself.

“No, I’m okay. Just mid college crisis.” you say.

Your aunt hums in response, probably not buying it but you’re happy she doesn’t push it anymore, “ Are you hungry? Want something to eat?”

A bag of fries with a bucket full of chicken wings sounds terribly tempting right now but you’ve lost all your appetite for the day the moment Minho closed the door behind you. Now all you feel is drained, tired, sad. Moreover, that is not what you were here for, “Nah, I’m good. Is Yugyeom home though?”

The door to your aunt’s house opens only after you ring the stupid bell at least three times , as you stand on the porch, judging the loud music that blasts from within the walls. “Wow , you look like shit.” Yugyeom always has some snarky comments up his sleeve but you are in no mood to be playing word games with him right now. You barge into the house , pushing past your cousin who you smells like donuts and Axe.

“Shut up.” You say, plopping down on his bed . You really want to cry right now but Yugyeom has never been big on consoling so you try to hold it in .

“What’s wrong? I’m not joking.” He sits beside you, putting down his gaming console on the table by the bed.

You play with your fingers , breathing in and out to calm your nerves. Yugyeom, out of all the people in the world , is the easiest to talk to but today , you find yourself on the edge , trying to be very careful with your choice of words. Maybe you were afraid of angering him as well.

“I..I kind of beat Anya up.” You confess ,swallowing the lump in your throat.

Yugyeom becomes still for a moment , staring at you with his mouth gaping and then his face breaks into the widest grin in the world.

“You really beat that bitch up? Like for real?” He asks , excitedly bro fisting the air like an athlete after winning an important match.

You nod , “And then I went to see Minho. He obviously didn’t react the way you did. He was very angry and then he broke up with me. ”

Yugyeom’s celebrations are short lived as you continue to tell him the details of what had happened earlier, his smile slowly dissolving into a frown.

“Y/n, first of all you really need to learn how to break news to other people. It’s always the bad one first and then the good one. Noob.” Yugyeom bumps his shoulder softly to yours. You would otherwise have argued with him and told him why the happy news should always be first and why the bad news should be last but you feel too exhausted to speak anymore. Your shoulders slump as you put your hands on either side of your head.

“How could he just break up with me like that? He had no logical reason to! He’s so selfish.” You mutter , tears gathering up in your eyes. You try to blink them away before your cousin notices them.

“I don’t think he did it for himself , y/n. You told him that you hit Anya because she was speaking trash about him. Of course he’d distance himself from you so you wouldn’t want to fight his fights for him.” Yugyeom says.

“I wasn’t fighting his fights! She trash talks about you and me and him and everyone else. It was the last straw for me. I didn’t do anything wrong. ” you explain , your heart hammering against your chest.

“I didn’t say what you did was wrong ,y/n. You have a right to be angry with her. But what we’re talking about is Minho. Think about this from his point of view,” Yugyeom replies, his hands on your shoulders , “You beat Anya up , got hurt and possibly put yourself in trouble with her mother all because of him. He feels guilty.” Yugyeom is speaking to you like he’s speaking in one of those debates that he does at college. You love seeing him speak, mostly because he is so manipulative yet subtle , smart yet observant and he can convince you so easily. He could easily pass as the best debater in your college - too bad you’d already taken that place.

“Or it could be because he doesn’t want more trouble in his account. Maybe he’s ashamed of me. ” you whisper, “ And I told you, I didn’t do it just for him. I did it for me and you too and all those people she bullies and makes fun of. Why is he the only one reacting like this? ”

Yugyeom sighs, “Yes , I appreciate your concern for my well being, y/n. But he might not be thinking the same way as I am. I was happy that you beat Anya up , but he was worried about you. He obviously doesn’t want you to get badly hurt.”

You rub the tears that flow down your face with the heel of your hand then place your head on Yugyeom ’s shoulder.

“He might have fallen out of love with me. Maybe he just needed an excuse to call it off.” You mutter.

“You know Minho’s better than that, y/n.”

He’s right . Minho really is better than that.

Break ups suck. In the truest sense. But what you now realize is that break ups don’t hurt that much immediately, but slowly , as the days go by and the memories start flashing in front of your eyes every waking moment , you feel like nothing more than a sack of meat and bones, drained of all emotions.

“For this unit of organic chemistry, I need all of you to memorise the reaction mechanisms over the weekend.” Your professor’s voice feels distant to you , as if there were a wall in between the two of you , even though he stands just a few steps away.

Your classmates start murmuring among themselves, fixing study dates that almost always are unsuccessful and gathering notes they hadn’t bothered to complete until now. But you remain seated in your chair , staring out the window, not bothering to talk to anyone.

It is a bright sunny afternoon and you see all the happy faces out on the field - couples, friends , classmates. You feel jealous. You clearly remember planning a weekend trip with Minho a few days ago and If you hadn’t decided to mess things up so bad, he’d have already been at your college gate by now , waiting in his father’s old car. You clearly remember how excited he was about the trip.

The dismissal bell rings not long after and as you walk out of the college gate, surrounded by thousands of students, you feel lonelier as ever. And your mind imagines his car below the tall banyan tree , his lean frame leaning against the door with a silly grin. You could almost see him there. Even though its just in your mind.

You miss him so much that it gets hard for you to even breathe properly.

“Okay , how long are we going to stay here? I have better things to do than stalk your girlfriend, Lee.” Changbin’s whiny voice breaks the silence in Minho’s car, much to his annoyance.

“Just a few more minutes. Till she reaches the dorm.” Minho replies , his hand limp on the steering wheel and his lips pressed in a tense line.

His eyes are focused on you , your slump shoulders and your unusually slow walk and the dark circles under your eyes. It is obvious that Minho wasn’t the only one having sleepless nights .

“Dude , why don’t you just talk to her? I’m sure she would listen.” Hyunjin says from the backseat , munching on peanuts, “ Plus I think she saw us.”

Minho watches as you turn around a corner and walk toward your dorm building , away from him. He almost wishes you’d seen him.

“It’s not that easy.” Minho mutters, turning the engine on.

At least he knows you’re okay, and safe. That’s enough reassurance for him to try and move on but he somehow always ends up driving to your college gates during dismissal, the brief view of your face still making the worst of his days better.

“It’s not that easy.” He repeats to reassure himself .

“Guess what.” Yugyeom chimes in early one morning, leaning against the locker door beside yours.

“What?” You ask , not sparing him a glance. Your hands busy themselves in flipping over the pages of your notebook ; last minute revisions before tests are more important than the actual studying.

“I saw Anya this morning. She was running late , I think, and she bumped into a junior near the gate. I was sure all hell was about to break loose but she just apologized and left!” Yugyeom says , laughing.

You turn to look at him, a look of surprise plastered on your face. Anya actually did that? Instead of being her usual, defensive, violent self she actually chose to apologize? It’s hard to digest but you’re sure Yugyeom wouldn’t be making all that up. He’s not that creative.

“The sun must have risen from West today.” You reply with a chuckle.

The morning bell rings throughout the corridor, indicating the commencement of your classes. Throwing in your notebook ,you close your locker and heave a sigh. Its just a small quiz but you find yourself stressing over every single thing these days.

“Oh and by the way , it’s Jackson Wang’s birthday party tomorrow.” Yugyeom adds as the two of you start making your way towards the chemistry lab , coats hanging by your arms.

“And we’re going?” You question ,cocking your eyebrow.

Yugyeom is not really into parties , especially the over-the-top , spectacular , rich-kid parties that Jackson Wang often finds himself throwing, yet Yugyeom always goes because a) Jackson is his best friend and b) Who doesn’t like to feel like a rich man even if it’s just for one night?

“Yes. Both of us.” He says. You shrug your shoulders. You have always liked going to Jackson ’s parties and fawning over his huge mansion and the various cuisines placed in front of you that you can’t even name properly and watching other rich kids like himself play golf in the living room. It was pretty entertaining . Even with your post break up gloominess, you wouldn’t want to miss all of that.

“Okay.”

“And one more thing,” he starts ,“I saw Lee Minho outside our college gate yesterday. You might want to do something about that.”

No, unlike what was expected of you, you didn’t really do anything about it but Yugyeom’s words stick to you like a piece of gum throughout the whole day ,consuming every thought and pulling out all those thoughts that you’d stacked up and thrown away into the top most drawers of your mind. You were convinced that the day he broke up with you , he was done. He didn’t want to look back or reconsider. He wasn’t coming back to you. And you’ve been trying to move on as best as you could ,keeping your mind occupied and busy all the time. Yet you had to accept that in the wee hours of the night , staring at the ceiling ,you would often find yourself reminiscing him and whatever you two had. The gentle touches , the late night walks, shy smiles and endless talks ; you missed them.

But his presence outside the college changes the whole game, doesn’t it?

Later that day, you kind of regret agreeing to go to Jackson’s party because you soon realised that both Minho and Jackson went to the same dancing school at one point of time , and Minho probably (like a 99.9% probability because Jackson Wang never leaves anyone uninvited) was invited too.

You dread every second in Yugyeom’s stupid car that brings you one more step closer to seeing Lee Minho again. And although you would never dare say it out loud , a part of you was a little excited too.

“Dude , y/n , I have never felt so underdressed in my entire life.” Yugyeom breathes in as the car stops in front of the huge metal gates of Jackson’s mansion.

“Me neither.” You agree, your eyes glued to the people walking in and out of the doors, wearing tuxedos and dresses and sparkly jewelry. You feel horribly out of place all of a sudden, like a fish flying in the sky and a bird swimming deep under the water- you feel like you don’t belong here.

You look down at your black converse , tightly laced and washed for this very party and your loose ,dark green tshirt and ripped jeans .

“Why didn’t you tell me this was a fucking masquerade ball or soemthing?"you hiss at your cousin.

"Shut up, y/n , you’re not the only one feeling odd. ” Yugyeom shoots back

But all of that discomfort is gone the moment you see Jackson Wang sitting on the huge sofa in the living room , wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts and a white tank top , drunk and wasted and blabbering.

“Let’s go before he sees us.” Yugyeom says , pushing you through the crowds of people clad in silks and pure cotton , “Drunk Jackson is difficult to handle.”

“Oh , I beg to differ , All Jacksons are difficult to handle.”

The garden behind the mansion is filled with even more people than your brain was accustomed to seeing while the DJ stands at the top of a platform , headphones on and screaming into the mic every once in a while to hype up the crowd in front of him , but you realise it’s hardly needed. People are already way too hyped up in here.

“Y/n?” You hear a voice say and you immediately turn around to face Hwang Hyunjin standing under the wonderful night sky, looking as gorgeous as ever. But then again ,when does he not look pretty?

“Hey, Hyunjin. How have you been?” You ask with a smile. Your awkward hand movements do not go unnoticed by him but he thankfully doesn’t comment on it.

“I’ve been good. How have you been ?” He replies , inching closer to you. From the corner of your eye, you see Yugyeom slowing disappearing into the crowds, leaving you all alone to deal with your ex boyfriend’s best friend. You make a mental note to never lend your Netflix account to him again.

“I’m okay, too.” You say.

Hyunjin nods, his eyes staring at you curiously, “Tell me , y/n , how have you really been? I know what happened between you and Minho.”

You gulp , heat creeping up to your cheeks.

“I’m fine, really. Don’t worry about it.” You say, biting the inside of your cheeks nervously.

“If you say so.” he grins , putting an arm around you , “But I’ll be real honest with you , Minho - ”

The words are cut off when the DJ suddenly blasts a new song through the speakers , simultaneously yelling into the mic. The sweaty, wasted , hopeless crowd around you yell a few ’ Let’s GO! ’s and ’ Fuck It Up ’s in response.

“What were you saying?” You yell over the music , pinching Hyunjin’s t-shirt to get his attention. He glances at back you then points toward his left , “That.”

You turn your head in that direction , your heart skipping a beat the moment your eyes meet Minho’s nervous ones. You see him walk towards you in long strides ,his handsome features painted with anxiousness and worry and a foreign sense of guilt. You were angry at him ,yes ,but as he makes his way to you , his silky hair bouncing softly ,his pink lips slightly parted, his starry eyes locked on you ,he looks…Brilliant? Breathtaking? Gorgeous? Stunning? All of these?

He wears a blue tshirt with black pants and has a jacket tied around his waist. He looks beautiful- even though you are mad at him. He looks way too beautiful to not acknowledge it.

And just a few seconds before he reaches you , you break away from Hyunjin’s hold and run away into the crowd.

“Y/n, wait!” You hear the both of them yell at the same time. But only one of them follows behind you and you don’t even have to look back to know who it is.

Fear and anger creep into your body , slow but painful like poison. You remember the last few days and how horrible it had been for you , all because of Minho and his lack of understanding in a moment when it was needed the most. Over the past few weeks, your ex boyfriend had made no attempts to contact you whatsoever and if he thinks he could just pop out of nowhere and start talking to you again, then he’s gravely mistaken. You might still love him and want nothing more than to hold him close , but that doesn’t mean you aren’t angry anymore . You are not ready to face him. At all.

Your feet burn as you run further away from Minho, jogging up the stairs inside the mansion with your hand tightly gripping the cold metal railing.

“Y/n, please, just listen to me once.” He yells, still not giving up.

You scoff , “Why should I? You didn’t listen to me that day either!”

You find a door at the end of the staircase, your hands pushing it to reach the empty terrace that you’d heard Jackson bragging about during your English classes when everyone was too bored to listen to the professor. The terrace really was beautiful, with all kinds of flowers blooming and a fountain with lights , you would have almost been breath taken if not for the man closing up behind you.

“Y/n, damnit, ” Minho huffs, reaching his hand out toward you, panting, “Stop, okay? Just listen to me , please.”

Not like you have an option anyway. You sigh in defeat , walking toward the fountain, the carpet grass rustling under your feet. “What?” You demand, your voice bitter with anger.

Minho stands in front of you , his brown unkempt hair and firey eyes reminding you of the night you guys had kissed for the first time. He stands at an arm’s distance, giving you enough space to think things through. He would never want to force you to do something you wouldn’t want to. And even if everything turned out to be not in his favor tonight, he’d gladly accept it because he deserved it after treating you so badly.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers after a few seconds.

You roll your eyes, “For what? What did you do? As far as I know, THE Lee Minho never makes mistakes!”

He hangs his head low with shame ; he didn’t mean a single word he’d said that night. He was worried, yes, he was very worried about your bashful attitude but he was also very grateful to you for always having his back. It physically hurt him to see you bleeding and completely worn out that day.

“Well, I did make a mistake this time. I said some words that I didn’t mean at all and I’m afraid the girl I intended those words at hates me.” He says , pressing his lips in a line.

“Damn right , she does.” You can’t even look into his eyes anymore because you’re too afraid of laying your true feelings bare in front of him.

“I’m really, really sorry, baby. I know I’m an asshole and I hurt you. I have no excuses to offer but I just want you to know that a single second more away from you will drive me crazy. ”

You process his sentences slowly - letter by letter, inking those words permanently into your memories. “Why?” You ask. What a silly question ,y/n, do you really want to torment this man so much ?

Minho gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the movement, “Because you’re quite literally my everything.”

Minho only dares to grin a little when you no longer throw virtual daggers from your eyes at him. “I hate you , you know?” You say.

“I know ,y/n. I don’t even blame you. I shouldn’t have said all that. I was just so, so mad. But that really wasn’t an excuse to be so rude to you or break up. I should have talked it out instead . I deserve the hate.” He admits.

The frown on your lips dissipates slowly ,making way for a sad, small smile.

“It was so hard, Minho. You don’t even know. I had never felt so lonely in my entire life.” You say.

“Believe me, y/n, I know.” He whispers as your hands find their way to his cheeks, rubbing them ever so gently.

You scan his face, absorbing in the fact that he was actually in front of you and this wasn’t one of your unrealistic imaginations.

Minho takes not more than a half step towards you and you automatically wrap your arms around his neck , like the millions of times you’d already done before. Everything about him is so familiar yet so new. Like layers and layers to discover and only one goddamn lifetime.

He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck , mumbling soft apologies against your skin, his arms tightening around your waist with every passing second.

“I missed you so much.” You admit, playing with his beautiful brown locks, taking in the smell of his (your) favorite body wash.

“I missed you too.” He replies , “So goddamn much. I almost wanted to cuddle Hwang Hyunjin at night.”

You laugh ,as he admires the way your noes scrunches up when you giggle and the way your eyes bend into crescent moons. In that moment, Minho realises how much he loves seeing you laugh ,especially when he’s the reason behind it. It fills him up with so much pride.

You hear the DJ change the song into a slow , romantic one as his voice booms through the speakers once again , “Ladies and gentlemen, grab the person next to you, with consent of course, and hold them close for this one because tonight is all about dancing with strangers!”

The crowd goes feral.

Minho raises an eyebrow at the DJ’s words , a sly smile playing on his lips , “Shall we?”

He pulls away from the embrace, gently bowing toward you and offering you his hand like some gentleman right out of a fairytale.

“He said dancing with a stranger, not girlfriend.” You deadpan but you take his hand anyway.

He chuckles, leaning closer to rest his forehead on yours, “Technically, we’re still broken up. That makes us strangers.”

You have to give in - not because of his weird reasoning but because of how terribly cute he looks when he smiles like that at you. He holds you close, swaying slowly to the music and grinning like there’s no tomorrow.

“What’s so funny, Lee Minho?” You ask , raising your eyebrow.

He shakes his head, still grinning, “I just realised how rare it is to find a woman who would quite literally declare war for you.”

“Now, you’re exaggerating a little bit with the war thing but yes, that’s the essence of it.” You reply with a proud smile.

He laughs, as you put your hand on his cheek once again and press your lips softly to his. You’d missed this so much - not just kissing him but also this feeling of intimacy you share with him everytime you’re in a closed space, sharing the same air. You missed his teasing, his stupidly sweet laughter, the warmth of his embrace. You missed Lee Minho - your safe place, your best friend, your world.

And even after everything, you both know for sure that you would fight the world for Minho if need be, and he’d do the exact same thing for you. Every single time.

87 notes · View notes

btsmosphere · 3 years

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The Web | PJM

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

~summary: Nearly dying was just the beginning. While struggling to deal with the direction life has thrown you, you find yourself at the heart of a web of conspiracy. Maybe it will bring you back to Jimin - if you both make it out alive. Jimin x reader ~word count: 4.8k ~mafia au, established relationship, angst, eventual fluff?(in future parts) Rating: pg15 Warnings: violence, breaking and entering, guns, death, injury, lots of running ~a/n: part 3 let’s get itttt! I had great fun writing this part :) I do have to be honest here tho, motivation has been a little low this week, and the interaction on this story is kind of getting to me. Please please don’t be a silent reader if you enjoy the story, comment and reblog! To everyone who has been sharing and commenting, thank you so much!! I appreciate it all x

this post is a repost for tags!! i would appreciate if you interact with this part 3

Squashed up against the cold metal of the van door, your other shoulder jostled with Sorrell's. There were a small group of you inside, seated on the floor of the vehicle, which was none too comfy as it bumped over holes in the road, making you all sway as one.

Besides the rumbling engine, however, you were silent. You doubted any of them knew each other at all; you were perhaps the only one with a connection here.

Earlier on, Sorrell had led you to the main warehouse floor where the others would join you. Like you, they seemed to emerge from the woodwork, slipping through doors they were clearly well practised in sneaking through.

You weren't honouring your wish to stay alive as well as you had hoped when you made the resolution.

As you leaned against the wall, hood as low over your face as it could be, you had begun to wish you had kept going last night, and left this all behind. It was a lucky thing you hadn't been a known operative of bangtan, or you may well be dead already.

Though it was a relief to be handed the dark cloth of a balaclava, it still made you pause before putting it on. Staring at the material, gaping facelessly back at you, you recalled how many times you had run from people clad in these, how many had fired at you. How many you had shot in return.

But there was no turning back.

You were yet to receive instructions, but no one seemed too anxious about this so you forced yourself to play along, slouching against the rear of the van. All you could do was wait for the inevitable calming of the engine, the slowing of the wheels...

When it finally came, you followed Sorrell's lead as she stood up, being sure to stay in the middle of the pack as you congregated on a dark path. One you instantly recognised.

So far, it seemed your hunch was correct.

This alley was barely a street away from bangtan's headquarters, somewhere you never thought you would be seeing again.

Stuffing your hands in your pockets, away from the cold, you looked around as the front door of the van slammed shut, splitting the quiet of the night. The only sound that could be heard was the faint bumbling of traffic, over which you could easily hear the darkwater leader stomping towards you.

A pile of fabric was dropped at your feet. Curiously, it clanged as it hit the floor.

"Take these bags," he ordered, "you are burglars, okay? Each of you should have a loaded pistol, in case something goes wrong, but just go in and stick to the areas we tell you. Take stuff if you really want, but don't leave your place. Understand?"

The barest mumble of agreement went up as the bags were collected from the ground.

With a frown, you opened yours. Rummaging inside, you easily found the gun, which you stashed at your waist. However, something else was in there too.

Fishing out the piece of paper, you saw the others do the same. Smoothing out the creases, you studied it.

You had seen these plans before.

Not that you needed to, given you knew the building inside out, but these specific plans. They had been lying on Kwangsu's desk before he tried to kill you. Finally getting to see them up close, you brought them right up to your nose, eyes flicking over every detail of bangtan he had mapped out. Where the vents were, the entrances and exits, even secret ones. He had all the codes, all the hiding places.

Instead of a warm gratification, you felt numb. You would have thought some sort of sense of accomplishment might have eased your worry, after learning you were right all along.

But no.

Because all this meant was Jimin and your friends were sharing their home with a traitor.

"Got it?" the man barked, startling you. Looking around at the vague nods, you hurriedly replicated them and followed the pack as they began to move.

Surreptitiously glancing at the paper in your hand, you turned your attention at last to the actual directions. Your group was set to travel through the main hall and take the middle floor of the building. The designated stations marked on the map formed a border of sorts, a line cutting through the place. The line ran between all of bangtan and the boardroom. And in the boardroom…

Lay le déluge.

Of course, that was not included in the map, but you knew full well where it was.

At a nudge from Sorrell, you upped your pace, having fallen a couple of steps behind the group. Having been alerted to where the cameras were, they made a beeline around the view of one such eager eye, blocked in part by a car that was parked there anyway.

Next, pressing against the cold brick of the perimeter wall, you crept closer to the gate which would lead you down, underneath the main building to its lower bunker. This was essentially used as a garage, but now it was to be your passage in.

Slipping through the gate with easy use of the code, you stopped just inside the entrance.

Though huddled together, no warmth permeated you. Your eyes constantly darted around the space, despite being in near total darkness. And you weren’t the only one. The only thing visible was the small red light of a camera, blocking your path.

A collective breath was released as the light died, leader waving you on.

Passing under the device, you looked up at it with a frown. Kwangsu must be inside, turning them off.

Gritting your teeth, you turned your eyes to the path ahead.

Winding your way up and through passages you had only seen a handful of times, the first few began to break away. Kwangsu had been busy. He knew exactly which paths were rarely used. The downside of having such a well-defended maze of a base: it had deadly potential when used against you.

Finally, Sorrell slipped through a doorway, leaving you completely alone.

Having memorised your intended position, you didn’t need your map to get there. As your feet fell on the carpeted halls, you got the sense you were in a museum. Memories from the past hung on the walls, untouched in revered silence.

At last, the correct door revealed itself and you moved towards it, quickly concealed in shadow.

Willing your eyes to adjust, you tapped your foot slowly. You couldn’t just wait here while Kwangsu was on the move, getting exactly what he wanted.

With no way of telling what the others were doing, you prayed none of them would leave their places. They were supposed to be staging a burglary, messing up their areas, almost certainly as a cover for the real treasure to be taken.

Sucking your lower lip into your mouth, you trod silently across to the other exit of the room. This way lead to the surveillance room.

Your every nerve was on edge as you crept further away from your post, fully aware Kwangsu had been working the cameras not long ago. You didn’t want to run across him.

From somewhere behind you, a muffled crash startled you into stillness.

It could have come from any one of the people in this building.

Not having any time to stop and calm down, you bit your tongue determinedly and pushed on. When the camera room was in sight, you flattened your body against the wall as you encroached.

It was dark inside, like the rest of the house, the light wavering from the computer screens lining the walls.

Holding your breath, you slid right up to the door, as close as you dared, and listened.

Silence.

Hand finding its way to the weight of your gun against your body, you looked around the corner.

And stared in horror.

Recoiling, you pressed the back of your hand hard against your mouth, making every effort not to gag. Even in the low light, you could see the blood oozing from the neck of the person slumped in the operating seat.

But you had to go in.

Averting your eyes, you stepped inside. You didn’t want to know who it was. It couldn’t be one of the boys, but it was likely to be someone you knew.

You were going to make sure Kwangsu paid.

Despite your hatred, you had to admit he was smart. Being the one room without cameras inside, filled with screens instead, this was the perfect place to get away with murder.

Forcing breaths out evenly, your eyes scanned over every screen in turn, noting the ones that stared back, blank, having been disactivated.

The sheer quantity of footage laid out in front of you was overwhelming, but you forced yourself to take the screens in one by one, dark room after empty space, until you finally found motion.

In one of the hallways this side of your border, Kwangsu was practically jogging towards the boardroom. But he wasn’t there yet. Constantly glancing over his shoulder, his hands fiddled with his shirt cuffs as he paced it out of shot of the first camera.

You crossed the room quickly to the next screen he emerged on, trying to assess his route.

The cocky bastard was right out in the open! No secret passages, no hidden corridors – he was hot-footing it up the main staircase.

It was the most direct route after all, and he did have cover.

You had to get to him.

But as you shot one last glare at the screen, preparing to give chase, a flicker caught your eye on the screen beside it. One of the bedroom doors had opened.

Bangtan knew.

You turned and ran.

Following in Kwangsu’s steps, you found the halls empty, silent bar your panting breaths as you rushed through them. The closer you got to the boardroom, the more danger there was of running into him.

At last, your nerve gave out and you broke away, taking another passage that led around the side.

Slowing your pace as you reached the final door, behind which lay the boardroom, you trod carefully, pushing it open softly. Your face was hot underneath the fabric covering it, but you kept your eyes trained on the growing crack of light as the door opened.

Cool metal rested under your fingertips as you readied your gun.

Your muscles were poised to move any second, but you forced them to wait. Once the door finally left enough space to look into the room beyond, you found precisely what you were looking for. If only you had been gifted a camera as well as a gun.

Kwangsu had his back to you, currently lifting the majestic painting from its place at the head of the room.

Your gun raised, finding its target with practised ease. You took a breath.

Time you never should have wasted.

The unmistakeable sound of a gunshot rang out, but it hadn’t come from you. Reacting in an instant, you jumped back behind the cover of the door, only hoping Kwangsu had turned slower.

Somewhere in the depths of the house, the sound of something smashing was soon overtaken by another shot, then another. A burst ricocheted through the building before quiet reigned again.

But only for a moment.

Over the pounding of your heart, the sound of a door.

“Hey!” a shout went up as the main door to the roomed slammed shut again.

Pushing the door as much as you dared, you watched as a man, face covered in dark fabric like you, marched down the centre of the room. It was so alien to see a darkwater in the middle of such a space, a black abyss within the normally warm room.

But where long windows usually shed golden light, now there was only shadow as the man reached Kwangsu.

“They’re onto us,” he muttered roughly, “just give me that and get back there.”

The painting changed hands.

“Hold on, wait,” Kwangsu stopped him as he made to move.

Eyes widening, you froze in place. Had he seen you?

“I’m meant to look like I’ve been fighting you off,” he said instead.

Hurriedly placing the large artwork against the desk, the other man readied his fist. He may have – literally – asked for it, but seeing the punch land on Kwangsu’s face gave you some sort of grim satisfaction.

But now the painting was on the move again, bangtan’s future possibly leaving along with it as the man melted away through a doorway at that end of the room.

Gunshots shattered the night again, scattered and irregular, before fading again.

It was enough to prompt Kwangsu into motion though, and you pulled back once again as he made his way back across the room.

Back falling against the wall, your breaths filled the darkness. Le déluge was going in one direction, and the traitor in the other. One headed out, one back in.

You pushed away, new destination locked in your mind.

As you ran through the halls towards the sound of gunfire, your own stayed firm in your hand.

He had to be here somewhere – as rooms flew past, you looked into each doorway, each time met with emptiness.

Even the shouts and gunshots that grew louder did not deter you. The blood racing through your veins was boiling. Kwangsu was not going to get away from you.

Tearing through a room, knowing it to be a shortcut to the thick of the fight, you spilled out the other side and instantly staggered back at the sight of a body slumped on the floor. Blood was leaking into the carpet, the figure completely motionless.

Your breaths scrambled in your throat, overtaking themselves as you tore your eyes away. You couldn’t even see their face, as it was covered just like yours.

Suddenly, bullet spray littered the corridor to your left, and you were off again, nearly tumbling over as your feet stumbled to get away. Flinging yourself around the next corner, you sprinted past a smashed up desk in the hallway, small shards of glass probably sticking into your shoes as you veered around a fallen artwork.

Chucking a glance over your shoulder as you raced around the next bend, you were oblivious to the startled man in front of you.

When you looked forwards again, your limbs froze in place for a terrifying split-second before you were backpedalling, skidding back around the corner.

Taehyung.

Tae, your friend, who was now chasing after you, bullets flying in the air.

There was no way you could outrun Taehyung. Or any of bangtan, but he was the one you had to worry about right now. At least it wasn’t Jungkook, but that wasn’t much consolation as your feet pounded on the floor, body moving as fast as you could push it.

In a desperate attempt to escape, you dashed through rooms, taking every turn you could, but Taehyung knew this place as well as you, footsteps not getting any further away. In fact, he was gaining on you.

Your burning legs were powerless to carry you any faster.

Flinging yourself into yet another room, you dived to the floor, sliding under a desk beside the door. Keeping your gasping breaths silent was nearly impossible, but you couldn’t keep going. Tae’s heavy steps were about to reach you-

“Taehyung!”

You gulped at the sound of Jimin’s voice.

“We need to get to the boardroom.”

Hobi.

As Taehyung abandoned his hunt, rushing away with the others, you slumped back against the wall. Air left you in bursts as you tried to recover.

Knowing that by now you might well too late, you climbed to your feet, bracing your arm against the wall for support. You had let Kwangsu slip through your fingers. He had definitely had enough time to rejoin the others and tell them his twisted version of events.

You wouldn’t be able to take them all on.

Chewing your lip, you cast your eyes longingly at the hallway to your left, where Taehyung and the others had left for the boardroom.

But you couldn’t risk it.

Jogging away, you let your feet carry you down a staircase, closer to the exit. As you reached the bottom, a figure walked from a doorway, cutting into your path.

“Sorrell?”

“We need to go,” she said, leaving no room for argument as she grabbed your arm.

Allowing her to lead you, the two of you hurried further down towards the bunker level where you had entered. Even as you moved in shadow, you could see her clutching onto her upper arm.

“Are you hurt?” you questioned.

“Doesn’t matter,” she brushed off, voice tense.

Frowning, you hurried after her as she upped her pace. At last you emerged through the gate, thankful it hadn’t yet been secured.

It didn’t take long to reach the sanctuary of the backstreets, but Sorrell didn’t let up her speed, leaving you trailing as you wove your path away from bangtan’s base. Her grip on her arm equally stayed steadfast.

“Seriously, are you okay?” you called.

She looked back, irritated.

“I can help,” you insisted, “please, let me. Did they shoot you?”

“Yes,” she muttered. It sounded like her teeth were gritted.

“When we get back to the van, I’ll clean it, okay?” you decided, “we can find something for a bandage-“

“The van isn’t here.”

“…what?”

“They don’t pick us up after jobs,” Sorrell said without looking at you. She had a way of speaking that made it sound like you had missed something incredibly obvious.

“They- they’ve left us?”

“Yes,” she was exasperated now. “Let’s just get back.”

“Maybe we should stop? You’re hurt.”

Silence answered you. Her eyes were fixed on the floor jaw locked and lips pursed.

A frown creased your own face.

“Sorrell-“

“I’m fine.”

If you weren’t mistaken, her voice wobbled, but she seemed determined. Sighing, you dropped the matter, resigning yourself to the journey back to the warehouse. Though you kept an eye on her, she stayed at least an arm’s length from you as you walked in silence.

But you were tired too, and didn’t have the energy to fill the space.

The walk was long. By the time you reached the warehouse, you slipped through deserted corridors to the room you had previously slept in. Of course, you were well aware the building was not as dark and deserted as it appeared, since the gang had come away with their intended treasure.

Somewhere beyond the few hallways you saw on your way up, the gang would be hard at work. A nest of hornets, their nectar secured in the centre.

Despite the exhaustion setting into your body, you ended up lying awake on the hard floor. Knowing the fruits of Kwangsu’s labour, the stolen painting, was just floors away, refused to leave your mind.

But you weren’t in any position to make a move now.

It was impossible to prevent your mind replaying earlier events. You had been so close, if only you pulled the trigger sooner, if only you had caught him somehow…

Rolling over, you suppressed a groan for Sorrell’s sake. It was too late now, but you didn’t know what you could do next. Sorrell had been good to you, but the thought of staying with darkwater made you uneasy. Morals aside, they treated people like you so badly you would never be able to build yourself up to anything if you stayed.

However, a small but insistent voice wouldn’t quit reminding you that perhaps you ought to leave bangtan to fight their own battles now. Now they had left you behind.

It was with the constant storm of thought swirling in your mind that you finally found rest, albeit sporadic. Every now and then, you would wake again, same old battered roof staring down at you until you were pulled under once again.

Another such time, your eyes cracked open, internally cursing your inability to sleep-

And then you froze.

This was definitely not like the other times you had woken up.

Someone was muttering something.

“She left her post- that’s how bangtan broke through…”

Through bleary eyes, you came face-to-face with several pairs of boots. Quickly alerted, your gaze travelled upwards.

Standing in front of you, fronted by Sorrell, were three darkwater members. Well, you could only assume that was who they were, as you had no more time to think on it before they were lunging for you.

Springing to your feet, you scrambled away. As your hand automatically found your bag, your eyes travelled to Sorrell, filled with panic.

One glance at her expressionless face was all you got before you were running.

You had done too much running lately.

The thought was only fleeting, just like the floorboards beneath you as you sprinted away from your pursuers, further into the building. Up, up, following the path Sorrell had taken you the night before, the only route you knew – but it could only take you so far.

Flying through the doorway to the room you had slept in before, you turned your head wildly. There was only one way out, and then you were dashing through it and into the unknown territory beyond.

Down stairs this time, and through corridors that gradually looked more modern, like they were actually lived in.

The smattering of noise behind you let you know you still had company. But that soon doubled as a couple of guards strolled from a doorway just up ahead. Skidding to a halt, you launched yourself in the opposite direction, only just making it to another doorway before the group chasing you emerged too.

Before long, you had reached the perimeter of the building again, windows whizzing past as you pushed down the hall.

The next corner you arrived at would only take you further into the building again. You didn’t want to attract any more attention than you already had.

Call it stupid, but your mind was running by itself. Sparing a moment to throw your bag across the floor, contents spilling out as if you had dropped it on the run, you turned to the window instead.

And jumped.

Below, there was a structure built against the main body of the warehouse. It served to shorten your fall, but you still felt the impact as you landed, bruises certainly collecting beneath your skin.

The wooden rood was even less sturdy than that on the warehouse, sagging alarmingly under you. Not daring to stand back up, you scooted yourself as far as you could to the edge and dropped down the remaining few feet.

Though you hoped that would have shaken them off, you could never be sure who was still watching, and so you resumed running, panting now as you forced your feet once more to a blur beneath you.

True darkness gathered around you as you moved further from the highway streetlights.

Still, you did not stop.

A small track ran along the back of the property, a patch of trees beyond it. On the other side of that, you finally allowed yourself to ease up the pace, heading around the fences of the industrial area you found yourself in.

Yanking your hood up, you made your way past factories and warehouses – ones that were actually in use. They probably had cameras.

You almost had yourself convinced that you slowed to a walk to look less suspicious.

Almost.

Really, you were tired.

Physically, your muscles felt the strain of your recklessness, the constant running away from danger. But perhaps that tendence was helping preoccupy you from the real blow.

No destination fixed in your mind, you let your feet wander. It wasn’t until you saw the artificial light from a kebab van on the corner that you knew where you were going.

As you walked below the launderette sign, you trapped your lip between your teeth. Things might have been so much simpler if you had just let that kind woman call Jimin…

Now, things were too complicated. You may well be on Kwangsu’s radar now, a notion that made you shudder.

Perhaps you should have got in touch while you had the chance, before everything spiralled out of control. Of course, there was the slight fact holding you back that Jimin apparently wanted you dead.

But now you saw that was surely another of Kwangsu’s lies.

Yes, you had argued. You had disagreed, but that wasn’t like Jimin. And, yes, he was a mafia operative, well used to killing, but you had shared years together. It made no sense for him to turn his back on you so suddenly.

There was no way, back when you met, that he could have been fake. He would have shown some emotion, anything. You wanted desperately to believe he would have fought for you, just as you would for him in a heartbeat.

Before Kwangsu got involved, you had something real, and as much as he might have trusted Kwangsu (despite your warnings), he wouldn’t put what you had aside for the sake of a friend.

Nearing the bridge, you stared up at the imposing structure. It wasn’t too far above the water, and you remembered having time straighten out, brace for impact-

With a heavy sigh, you let yourself rest at last in the shadow underneath.

At first, your mind had been riddled with Kwangsu’s words, terrified as you were forced to defend yourself and focus on surviving. You hadn’t thought to question the integrity of his words, which you now highly suspected were false.

Though you were wary of him before, this was so much bigger than you had imagined. You had no idea when you went to his study that night that he was a member, a seemingly important one at that, of darkwater. They were probably the only people he had been honest to.

Resting the weight of your head on your hands, you prayed you were right. If you wanted to save Jimin, you had to believe yourself. You had to believe in him.

The remnants of a café. Tables overturned, chairs on their sides, glass shattered.

There are bodies. Bodies clad in black, balaclavas over their faces. You don’t even have to check their arms – it must be the doing of darkwater.

You wished you had checked their arms. Just like the bodies inside their base right now, they would be blank. They were just crash dummies, disposable and faceless.

“Thanks, Kwangsu. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t spotted them on your way here.”

“No problem, no problem at all. I’m just glad nothing happened to you, these guys are scary.”

Jimin laughs.

Folded arms, stubborn across your chest

“I’m just saying, why don’t you send me? You trained me yourself.”

“Kwangsu has enough experience. Back in high school, he was with me at my first ever drug deal. He started at the same time.”

Jimin’s grin, so assured.

“He’s just a petty thief-“

“So no-one knows he’s connected to us. He won’t be recognised. This is in a busy area, Y/N, and I won’t have you getting hurt.”

Your sigh; Jimin’s arms around you.

“Y/N, why won’t you lay off? He’s proved himself enough times.”

“Hey, I don’t want to get in the way of you guys-“

“No, Yoongi’s right,” Jimin defends.

You gape at him.

Kwangsu meets your eyes as you leave the room.

A distant bang shakes you, cutting through your spinning head. Tensing, you turn towards the source of the noise, though it came from well within the city on the other side of the bridge.

The noise isn’t alone. Someone is probably fighting.

As the whirlwind in your head clears, a frown grows on your face. Given the direction the gunshots are coming from, you can only presume the fight is in red clan territory. Maybe they are fighting bangtan.

For a moment, you are reminded of Jimin. You know just how he stands in battle, having fought beside him, hidden breathless around corners with adrenaline pulsing through your veins.

If your body wasn’t quite so defeated, you might have gone closer. Jimin fighting alone wasn’t a thought you could stomach. Right now, there wasn’t too much of the world you could stomach.

And so you let your eyes slide closed, falling asleep to the sound of gunfire.

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ejzah · 3 years

Text

Here is chapter 8 of the revised version of The Agent and The Lawyer. The first 7 chapters are linked below. I will slowly repost old and new chapters on my ff account. The first version will be titled TATL version 1 and the new version, The Agent and the Lawyer. Thank you for all your patience and understanding.

***

The Agent and the Lawyer, Part 8

Kensi wiped her damp palms on the thighs of her jeans, pressing her lips together as she stared out the passenger window of her car. She’d been sitting there for 27 minutes, trying to summon up the nerve to get out. She was never, ever this unsure or anxious.

It had been a week since Marty Deeks had walked out of the mission. He had canceled their not-a-date dinner a couple hours later, citing a work emergency and he hadn’t reached out since then. She tried not to take it personally, but it was hard, especially when he was in her thoughts so frequently.

Damn him and his smile and pretty blue eyes. He kept popping up in her mind at extremely inconvenient times. Like when she was practicing in the firing range or supposed to be filling out mind-numbing paperwork. And one highly embarrassing time in the shower.

She wasn’t sure if it his appearance, as unorthodox as it was, that smile which did strange things to her stomach, or his quick wit that she couldn’t forget. Or maybe it was simply the fact that he challenged her when no one else would.

One thing was for sure, Deeks was different and she needed to see him again.

Cursing under her breath, she finally yanked the keys from the ignition and threw the door open, getting out before she could stall any further. Then she was at the door before she knew it, her finger jabbing the doorbell.

Deeks opened the door a minute later and his eyes widened when he saw her, his upper lip rising slightly in a smile.

“Kensi.” He looked past her, like someone else might be with her. “Did Hetty said you to track me down?”

He was dressed similarly to the first time they’d met, in a t-shirt and jeans, the material clinging to his muscles and the light blue of his shirt emphasizing his eyes. It should be illegal to look so good without even trying.

She realized she’d been quiet for too long and shook her head, feeling shy and uncertain again.

“No, nothing like that,” she said and Deeks smiled a little in relief, casually leaning against the door jamb with his ankles crossed.

“Well, thank god for that. So why are you here?”

“Um, well, I just thought,” she paused, debating the merit of turning around and leaving while she could. Then she forced herself to take a deep breath and hesitantly asked, “Do you want to grab a burger or something?” There was a moment of silence following her suggestion and she started thinking of ways to backtrack.

“Sure,” he answered and this time his smile was almost teasing as he jerked his finger behind him. “Let me grab a jacket.”

***

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you back,” Deeks said when they were halfway through a dinner of fries, cheeseburgers, and shakes. It was sure to clog every artery in her body, but it was completely worth it. Deeks didn’t seem to mind that they were eating in a tiny, slightly rundown diner.

Surprisingly, they’d fallen into an easy rhythm of conversation with only a few awkward stops and starts. It should have worried her more than it did. Kensi was never this comfortable around anyone so quickly.

“Don’t worry about it,” She shrugged dismissively, a little surprised that he’d brought the subject up. Nibbling at another fry, she studied her fingers and then hesitantly asked, “Why didn’t you? Call that is.”

He sighed, absentmindedly scratching at his jaw.

“I meant to, which I full realize sounds like the lamest excuse in the world, but work has been insane. You’re actually lucky that you caught me tonight. I’ve been staying at the office until after 1 most days.”

Kensi felt her cheeks fill with a rush of warmth and she quickly asked another question.

“Another misguided celebrity or pro bono this time?”

“Pro bono,” he confirmed with a deep sigh. “I can’t go into much detail, but it’s for a young woman who was in a really terrible spot and made some, admittedly, really poor decisions. I’m trying to get her out of jail and make sure she can keep her kids.”

His normally easy smile was absent and he had a distant look in his eyes that she couldn’t remember seeing before. It held a wealth of pain Kensi wasn’t sure she was meant to see.

“That’s awful,” Kensi murmured, reaching for his hand across the table. His eyes flicked down to their fingers as she gave them a brief squeeze. “Do you think you can help her?”

“Some, but she’s probably going to end up serving some time and lose her kids for a while.” He sighed deeply again and then shook his head a little. “And I just completely ruined the mood. Good job, Marty.” He gave a self-deprecating chuckle.

“I’m the one who asked,” Kensi reminded him. “And I wouldn’t want you to pretend that everything’s ok if it’s not.”

“Thanks.” He squeezed her hand back and she realized belatedly that she’d been holding his this whole time. She pulled away abruptly, tucking her hands under the table. Deeks just let his his rest where she’d dropped it, tilting his head as he observed her with narrowed eyes.

“So what made you blush before?” he asked, leaning towards her. Of course he’d noticed. Damn him. She kept forgetting just how observant he was. “Don’t try to deny it, cause we both know you did.” Kensi glared at him and his grin just widened.

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes at him. “I may or may not have called your office this evening to see if you’d left yet. Your secretary said I just missed you.”

“Some men would call that stalking, but I find it highly flattering,” he teased, dodging the French Fry Kensi tossed his way.

“Shut up.” Even though he was being ridiculously annoying right now, she found herself fighting back a smile. “You better watch it Marty Deeks,” she warned. “Or you might not get a second not date.”

“I bet I could convince you.” Still wearing that infuriating smirk, he leaned forward again until just a few inches remained between their faces. Kensi was momentarily stunned at having him so close she could see the little flecks in the blue of his eyes as he stared into hers and feel his breath puff against her face.

He dipped his head, his bangs falling across his forehead, and smoldered up at her. His lips were so close to hers. Close enough that all she had to was drop her chin and they would be touching.

Instead she turned her head, brushing her cheek along Deeks.

“Nice try,” she whispered, pleased when she heard him inhale suddenly. “But you still owe me dinner.”

Deeks huffed out a laugh as she pulled back, his grin returning in full force.

“It’s a date,” he murmured and Kensi wasn’t sure which of them had won.

***

Here are the original seven chapters from the first version of this story.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

#ncis la fanfiction #Marty Deeks #Kensi Blye #ncis la au #the agent and the lawyer #new part 8 #ejzah fanfiction

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deepdonutkid · 3 years

Text

Tracing a shadow - part 2

Pairing: None

Requested: No

Word Count: 2822 words

Warnings: Drug use mentioned, underage drinking

Summary: Michael getting drunk and sad about the death of his big sister Anna.

Author’s Note: Maybe there is going to be a third part, where Anna lives... but I still not sure about this.

And virtual kisses and hugs for every like, reblog, comment or else!

Do not repost my work

A week was all it took for him to learn the truth. At first he was reluctant to ask, but after they had visited Polly’s new and suburban house, he knew that nobody else was home but Polly, the maid and him.

While waiting for the maid to bring the food, Polly said something that upset him. He looked just like his father and he didn’t know what to do with this piece of information. Should he be proud to look like the man who had beaten him? Michael bit his lip and stood silent. There were no words suitable for this situation.

Polly seemed to notice and explain how his biological father had died, smashed between the canal and the boot. Michael didn’t care about this. In fact he had already expected something similar. It was too quiet around the house. The presence of his father would have been noticeable.

He had no hard feelings about his death. The few memories about his father weren’t actually nice. So there was nothing to grieve about. And anyway, who said that he needed a father? Especially a father like this. Michael was almost a man and he survived this hell of a mess called his life all on his own.

But then after two days of staying at the house, he became jittery. There was a purpose for his arrival and he needed to fulfill it. Obviously, Anna wasn’t here, when Tommy did his research, maybe he didn’t just look for Michael but also for the long lost daughter of Elisabeth Gray. Or Polly knew something.

Well, this was speculated, but he wouldn’t give up and go, before he’d even tried. So he started looking around the house. Anything from her could be helpful.

Five days later, Michael went up to the house in the watery lane. There was something strange about this place and he hated every minute he had to spend there, but Polly was gone to work, so he could search unimpeded.

Soon he realized that his mother had vanished every evidence about her children around the house. It did hurt, but he could understand her. To lose custody was her lowest point. She told him something like this. At least she’d acknowledged that. This couldn’t heal his old scares, he knew, but it eased the pain. He told himself she changed for the better. Otherwise he wouldn’t have stayed.

The last room was their old chamber, Anna’s and his. He avoided going in there, but there was no way around it. Cold sweat ran down his back, when he stared at the door. Feeling the cold door handle in his hand made him gulp. His anxiety went through the roof.

Everything was still the same. He could tell that by first sight. In opposing corners were their beds. The bear figure from grandfather stood on the dresser. Anna loved playing with it. Being in this room was horrible for him. All the memories of her and his childhood rushed over him, crushed him to bits and pieces.

Suddenly he felt sick, almost like puking. He couldn’t be in this room anymore. Furthermore he was stupid to believe there was a hint about her whereabouts. Nobody was in there for years. Everything was dusted and it sort of looked like a shrine.

His feet took him out, faster than he could think. When the door was closed again, he was relieved. Without looking back, he hurried downstairs, mostly to get away from this nightmare, but also because he heard Polly entering the house.

‘Oh, you are here?’ she asked. Her eyes widened as she glared at him. Of course Polly expected him to be in the nice house with the ham and the maid and not here with his crumbled childhood memories.

Michael coughed slightly and nodded. He wanted to say something, but he couldn’t find any good explanation for his behavior. Then he fumbled his hands in his pockets and faced the floor. It was like she caught him, but with was exactly? It was not a crime going into what used to be his room.

With his new found courage he declared: ‘I was upstairs in my old chamber.’ He signed, peeked at the big clock right behind Polly and then back to her. ‘I mean… Anna’s and mine.’

Polly’s mimic was somewhere between hurt and thunderstruck. He caught her off-guard just by saying her name. This was no good sign at all. Michael got the impression there was something she kept from him. He was no child anymore and she from all the people should know that. If there was some secret about his sister, he needed to know.

‘Where is she anyway?’ he dug deeper, regardless of her feelings. The tears filled her eyes and gave him a scare. Her hands were covering her mouth, as she mumbled: ‘You really want to know this now?’

Again he nodded but with the stoic calm of a child that has already been broken. Now the sadness hit him too. The world lost its color while she explained it to him. His heart ached. He couldn’t stand hearing about her death.

Suddenly his body felt numb. Her words were muted as his world began to shatter. Michael closed his eyes, so he wouldn’t cry, but it didn’t matter as the tears found their way out anyway. There was nothing he could do about it. Everything felt just so useless. Why was he even here? And why did he wait so long to ask?

Polly stumbled into him, probably with the intention of a hug, but Michael refused. Without a blink he pushed her away. Everything seemed to hurt him now, even the simple touch. A tear rolled down and hit his shirt. ‘I need to be alone right now’, was the last thing he said before storming off.

He just couldn’t stand how Polly looked at him and to top it off she wanted to nurture him. That was the last thing he needed. Outside he first didn’t know where to go, but before he should make one more step in any direction, he wiped off the wetness from his cheeks.

His head tilted as he stared at the greyish sky of bad old Birmingham. Suddenly he knew which way to go. Michael made his plan. It arranged itself in his mind, piece by piece.

First he went straight to the Garrison. There he greeted Henry with a dull voice and asked for liquor, cigarettes and a matchbook. For Tommy, he said, knowingly that this request couldn’t be denied. He had learned already, that his family was somehow the unholy rulers of this rotten empire. It was not like he had something against that. Actually it was quite useful. Being Elisabeth Gray’s son had his benefits. Without a second ask the barkeeper put a whole bottle, three packages of cigarettes and some matches on the counter. The whole time Michael’s face stood bland. He took everything with him and left in silence.

Now his pace wasn’t confident as he headed towards the fields just at edge of town. He should know the way, but his memory was blurred. In his head played a scene of Anna and him running around a willow which stood near a creek. Actually he didn’t had a good reason to search for this spot, but something in his gut commanded him to.

Somehow he reached his destination. Michael wasn’t so sure this was the same tree his sister liked so much, but it didn’t really matter, as she wasn’t here to argue with him and she never would be. He just wanted to feel near her, but that was impossible, so he went with the next best thing.

As if his body lost the last bits of energy he slumped down. In the mud he sat, unsure with what he should start; crying, smoking or drinking. He had never done this stuff, but now he needed to. Everything ached and especially his throat was bone dry. So he went with the whiskey first. How much he hated the taste of it. The burning feeling in his chest expanded and the liquor left bitterness on his lips and tongue.

Just like he had a task list to do, he put the bottle away and fumbled in his jacket for the cigarettes. Michael hated smoking even more than drinking but he still remembered how Anna stole mum’s fags for the whole purpose of acting so adult. ‘Butt me.’, demanded a squeaky voice in his head. It was Anna crossing his mind again and again.

With shaky hands he tried to light his cigarette. Out here in the field it was too windy so he moved closer to the tree. It finally worked, but even the few drags made him cough terribly. He leaned against the bark and started to blubber. While he walked here, he could still stifle his feelings, but now they wrecked him.

Everything was pushing him down, more than ever. The sadness took him hostage. He was so up his mind, that he noticed the cigarette on his leg too late. Now there was not only a hole in his pants but also a burn on his skin. With all his might he slammed the cigarette butt in the grass next to him. He didn’t need those anyway.

Somehow he was sad and angry and full of doubts, too much to handle for him all on his own. He needed her now, but Anna was gone and she wouldn’t come back ever again. Michael knew that but he refused to accept this. How could she be dead when they made an oath to finally be reunited again? She swore it and now… He was here, but she was not.

He was unable to grasp it. Her death seemed so unreal and yet it did happen. Polly told him the truth, she wouldn’t have lied. If there had been any chance Anna was still alive, she would have told him so. But then again… how?

‘She tried coming back even after she was adopted by another family, so they took her around the globe, where she couldn’t run. There she died.’ That was Polly’s explanation, but it wasn’t enough for Michael. He needed to know how. It would haunt him over and over again, if he didn’t know the details. In his head he imagined every possible way it could have happened, which just made it worse.

Anna’s face kept messing with him. He still remembered her brown eyes, that daring grin, that could win everybody over and how her auburn brown hair framed her face. His sister had glowing skin from all the days she spent outdoors with grandpa. She had a captivating presence and she’d known how to use it. How easily she could charm people. This would apply to animals too. Anna had something bold to her and god, she feared nothing. Nobody could intimidate her. That’s what he treasured the most about her.

As a child he had so much to fear. He was scared about everything and anything, but Anna had protected him. His big sister was hero and he thought she was invincible. She put up a fight with Arthur, who was at that time already two heads taller than her, just because she wanted her cousins to take her seriously. And after that they did. She incited John to steal money from his parents, which ended horrible. Everything she did and everything she was astonishing. There just was something about her, something so light and mesmerizing. How could she have been bought to her knees by a simple disease?

Now her light was out and Michael would never see it again. That insight hit him hard. His eyes were already red and swollen, but he couldn’t stop crying, even though he struggled for air. After all he still was a child and until now there was still something that hadn’t broken. This final piece shattered too and he would never be the same person. After all this pain he had been though, he thought in the end everything would work out for him and they would meet again. He still had the glimpse of hope, but that was gone, just like her.

Would she still look the same today? Or maybe she would have changed? Wore her hair short by now? Probably she would have been a blinder too. The flat cap with the razor blades would have suited her and she always had liked to mess with people, especially with Tommy. Anna laughed her ass off every time she successfully made Tommy mad. He fought a lot with her, but Michael liked to think, that his cousin still cared about her.

Suddenly he had a clear picture in his mind how she would look by now and it fucked him up completely. She should have lived. He needed her. How could he survive without her? And even though he knew that she was dead, there still was a part in him, that didn’t want to believe this. But that was just denial, the first stage of grief. Michael knew this, not that he could do something about this. Instead he just sat there and drank. He drowned so much whiskey despite the horrible taste, but it numbed the pain.

‘Why you?’ he sobbed: ‘You promised to come back. Why did you leave me alone?’ His sister wouldn’t hear his words, but he needed to say them. ‘What happened? You said to me, you would come back and save me. You know what they did to me. To us and then you were gone. They shouldn’t have given you to this horrible family. We should be together.’ His voice was accusing, even though there were no judges or benches. A fire burned in his chest. He demanded answers, but he wouldn’t get any.

‘Why did they break us apart? We were better together- a team.’ Michael mumbled into the void. ‘I needed you and you needed me. Why? God, why? I just…’ The words kept blubber out of him. Now he cried even uglier. ‘I… I… I just… can’t… can’t believe that you… are gone… and how?’ Thinking about this made him crazy. His own thoughts choked him and he let it happen. ‘Were you all alone? And where did it happen? Did you have any friends? Did someone hold your hand when you had died? Were you scared? Did you cry? I don’t fucking know and it kills me.’

Michael was drunk by now, but he didn’t feel any better. Actually it has gotten worse. The wind on the field was cold and he didn’t take his coat while rushing off. Now it was fucking freezing and he was all alone. The sky was getting darker and he could tell that the rain could start any time now, but he still hadn’t the power to move, not even an inch.

His tears had stopped and now he was just sad. God, he must have made a terrible impression, with the red face and the unkempt hair. While crying he had rubbed his face so much, that it hurt. While he sat here he ripped out some grass and watched it flowing in the wind. Downside to that was the grass all over him. Michael brushed it off his pants and then grabbed to bottle. When he drank it, he became so sick, he almost puked. In his anger he threw the bottle away.

There was nothing in him. The fire burned down and now it was just a pile of ashes. He felt empty and numb, which was relieving compared to the pain from before. It must have been hours, he had been sitting here. Michael was just tired, too tired to move a finger. Then everything got blurry and dark as his eyes closed.

When someone woke him up, much later that evening, he almost forgot where he was. ‘Fuck, you smell like schnapps. Pol is going to kill me!’ grumbled a familiar voice.

His head hurt like hell and Michael couldn’t think straight. The surroundings flickered before his eyes. He sounded so hoarse when he blurred out a ‘What?’

‘She sent everybody to look for you. She thought you went back to the other family.’ Explained John and hefted his cousin up. During this procedure Michael moaned like stubborn child. He didn’t want to go back and he certainly didn’t want to see Polly, but he didn’t have much of a choice. John dragged him back to the Watery Lane.

‘Did you really want to scoop?’ he asked. Michael didn’t know a lot about their world, but he already made the decision to stay. It was what Anna would have wanted.

‘No’ he replied: ‘Unfortunately… you guys have to bear me a little longer.’

#Michael Gray #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinders #peaky fookin blinders #aunt polly #polly gray #john shelby #Anna gray

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