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honeytae · 3 years

Text

I can’t wait to create more memories with you.

hi my loves! so this is a super fluffy little piece about jungkook and his s/o moving in together - it starts out on moving day and there’s a little flashback to when the topic of moving in together was first brought up :) it’s overall just really cute idk i hope you guys like it <3

tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy

genre: fluff

word count: 2.8k

Slowly turning the handle to enter your apartment, you tried your best to mentally prepare yourself for what you would inevitably see. That didn’t seem to work, though, since it felt like an absolute sucker-punch to the gut.

The space looked brand new; a completely blank canvas for its next tenants.

Walking into the empty apartment you used to call your own now felt heavy instead of homey. The path to your bedroom felt routine, but slightly shaken with the absence of all your things. Photos of your family no longer occupied the walls, that little throw rug you’d picked out for the summer had been cleaned off the floor, and the various vases of flowers your boyfriend surprised you with were no longer kept front and center on the table against the wall.

And even though those items were still in existence, even though everything was still intact and far from gone, it still made your heart clench a bit in your chest that they would no longer be here.

Rounding the corner to enter your bedroom, you leaned your shoulder against the door frame for a moment, admiring the pristine openness of your room in its empty state. You couldn’t recall it ever feeling so big.

Heaving a deep sigh, you let your legs carry your body over to the bay window, taking a seat on the ledge to peer out at the view one last time.

At the sound of Jungkook calling your name, you glanced back to the doorway of your bedroom, staring at your boyfriend as he tipped his head at your unreadable expression.

Although he’d been lifting boxes all throughout the morning and afternoon, somehow he barely looked strained. In fact, he was still annoyingly attractive. He had his grown out hair tossed back into a bun (with one of your hair ties), and he was wearing plain black shorts hidden beneath one of his many oversized t-shirts.

How he could make it all look so good, you had no idea.

“Hi.” You said, the man wordlessly approaching you with a run of his palms down his thighs, crossing the room in only a few long strides to get to your swinging legs.

“I didn’t expect to find you in here. You okay?” He asked, his brows pulled together as he took a seat beside you.

Taking a stray strand of your hair between his fingers, he pushed it back from your face, subtly analyzing the emotions written into your features with dancing pupils.

Immediately wanting to ease him, you leaned forward, pursing your lips underneath his jawline before letting your chin rest on his shoulder.

Wrinkling your nose at the odor rising from his t-shirt, you tilted your head slightly to escape the smell, unbeknownst to Jungkook.

“You’re sweaty.” You observed, the man craning his neck to look down at you, comically raising his brows at your bluntness.

“I’ve been working!” He defended himself, making you chuckle a bit before picking your head up to smile at him.

“I know you have.” You said appreciatively, leaning forward to press your lips to his when he subtly puckered them out to you.

“Saying your goodbyes?” He offered in explanation to your presence in the apartment, having already successfully gathered every last box there was to take.

You laughed at that, nodding a bit in response.

“In a way.” You shrugged, letting your temple fall on his bicep with a sigh. Shifting your eyes down to your leg as Jungkook grabbed ahold of your thigh, you smiled as he lifted and draped it over his own thigh, drumming his pointer fingers on your muscle.

Feeling his lips purse against the top of your head, you let your eyes fall shut, the distant sound of birds outside the screened window behind you letting you zone out into a much more peaceful space than your mind had been in previously.

It was the only serene moment you’d had today. From movers bustling in and out of your apartment, your mom coming to help you label and sort all your boxes, your neighbors poking their heads in to the chaos to finally nose their way into seeing the layout of your place in comparison to theirs; it had been a lot.

“Are you gonna miss it here?”

Peeling your eyes open at Jungkook’s sudden question, you lifted your head to properly look at him, curiosity evident in the slight widening of his eyes.

“Hm. The memories it holds, more than anything.” You answered, watching as he nodded in understanding. “I never liked the kitchen layout.” You added as an afterthought, causing the man to burst into giggles before shaking his head at you.

“I don’t think the kitchen was too bad. Although I love our kitchen.” He grinned at the emphasis he could officially put on the word, you sharing the same reaction at the phrase. Our kitchen. Our new apartment.

“I’m so excited.” You all but squealed, the man chuckling as you squeezed him tighter to you in your excitement.

“Me too.” He said, smile slightly closing his eyes as his face creased with the strength of his happiness.

“Remember how nervous you were when you first brought up moving in together?” You wondered, peeking over at the closet across the room that had started it all.

“I do.” He chuckled, making you smile as your brain took you back to the event that had taken place only a few months prior, in this very room.

“Hey.”

Looking up from the heap of clean clothes at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice, you had eyed a pouty Jungkook, raising your eyebrows at his expression as his eyes briefly fixed on the clothes before focusing back on your face as he shuffled into your bedroom.

The tone and facial expression that Jungkook greeted you with had your eyes widened slightly, examining his approaching stature, his eyes squinted at you accusingly.

“Hi.” You responded, laying Jungkook’s clean boxers on your thigh to straighten the fabric before you creased it.

“Are you hiding something from me?” He asked, causing you to tip your head in confusion as you stared back at him, bottom lip jutted out slightly.

“Not that I know of, no.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows raised at that, walking further into the bedroom to approach where you sat on the mattress folding a fresh load of clean clothes.

You watched as his eyes searched the pile, sighing dejectedly before turning back toward the closet to rummage through it some more.

“What are you up to?” You asked, Jungkook’s actions stalling only a bit when he picked up on the annoyed tone you used at his messing up of the rack of clothes in there.

“I’m looking for my hoodie.” He explained his actions, causing you to roll your eyes behind his back.

Jungkook seemed to have an emotional attachment to each and every one of his hoodies, even though he had hundreds to speak of. Every time you borrowed one, he tracked you down and made you give it back.

It was never in a mean way; he only wanted his stuff returned, and you understood that. But at a certain point, it was just annoying.

“Which one are you looking for?”

“It’s the black one with the blue flames on the hood.” He recalled, scanning the row of clothes for the design before grunting in disapproval upon coming up empty-handed.

Shaking your head, you sighed as you diverted your eyes back to the clothes awaiting folding. You could still hear the man rummaging through the plethora of hung items over your music, pressing your lips together in slight annoyance at the stubborn man.

The closet in your bedroom was now a fifty-fifty split of your clothes and Jungkook’s. You couldn’t recall when he had started keeping clothes there; you suppose it just happened naturally as he spent more and more time with you.

In fact, you were going on two years. You had picked up his habits and him some of yours, you knew all his little quirks and vice versa. Including his necessity for keeping all his precious hoodies in check.

“Why must you fret about each and every one of your hoodies' temporary absences?” You sighed, the man mumbling an “ouch” as something fell out onto his foot.

“Because I know someone,” he looked back to you for emphasis, “likes to steal them and then I never get them back. I swear you’re renting a storage locker for my hoodies just so I can’t find them here.”

At his dramatics, you merely sighed again, going back to folding your t-shirt before you paused, looking up to stare at the back of his head.

Thinking back, you could picture the black hoodie in a heap on his bedroom floor the other day, tossed aside after some activities between you two and obviously forgotten about by your boyfriend.

“Did you check your place?” You asked, Jungkook’s actions pausing at your words before he slowly spun around to you.

His face was plagued with guilt, cheeks full in a different kind of pout than the bratty one he’d greeted with as his sweet doe eyes came out to play.

“Ugh, sorry.” He said, cheeks heated before he made his way over to you, landing on the mattress with his head resting on your thigh.

You chuckled at the embarrassed pout on his face as he nestled his head into your leg, staring up at you with a ‘hmph.’

“I just can’t seem to keep track of what’s at mine or yours.” He explained, you nodding with a fond smile as you brushed hair back from his face.

“I know. You just get so damn protective over those hoodies.” You teased, the man scrunching his nose at your cooing tone.

“It is really difficult to keep track of what is where.” He sighed, looking up at you with a gleam in his eye that told you he was thinking something he wasn’t saying.

“It is. What’s going on in here, baby?” You tapped your pointer finger against the crown of his head, the man smiling shyly as he grabbed your hand in his.

“Why don’t we,” he trailed off, hoping you’d get his hint so he didn’t have to come out and actually say it. When you only stared at him in response, he sighed, shaking his head to negate what he’d been saying causing you to grab his wrist with a pout.

“Why don’t we what?” You asked, jutting your bottom lip out at the disappointed look on your boyfriends face, smoothing your thumb over the corner of his mouth to ease his frown.

“Well, you know,” he shrugged, “since it’s so hard going back and forth between each other’s places,” he trailed off, groaning when you only smiled back at him, eyebrows raised in amusement as you waited for him to continue.

The look on your face told him you knew. The gleam in your eye told him you knew exactly what he was trying to articulate.

“Baby,” He groaned, realizing you were messing with him as you pulled begging eyes down at him. He removed his hand from yours, pulling it away with a pout as you chuckled at his reaction.

“What, Kook? What’s on your mind?” You continued playing dumb, wanting to drag the words you’ve been waiting so long to hear out from the man.

“C’mon, why are you making me say it if you already know?” He whined, you giggling as you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Because I want to hear it from you. And I like seeing you squirm.” You smirked, the man scoffing underneath you as he recaptured your hand in his own.

“Baby, my sweet angel, the brightest star in the entire universe-“

“Jungkook!” You laughed, lightly squeezing his hand as you grinned down at him, his teeth shining up at you as he shyly blushed at the words in his brain.

“Can we move in together?”

“Hm,” you hummed, the man’s eyes bulging as he slightly panicked beneath you, “give me some good reasons to.” You smirked again, your boyfriend gasping at your words before he took control, flipping you over to hover above your frame as you squealed at the sudden action.

“You brat.” He leaned his forehead down to yours, effectively silencing you with a kiss to your lips, your fingers tickling at the hair at the nape of his neck.

“For one,” he started, “you wouldn’t have to hear me complaining about my missing hoodies anymore. I can make a mean cup of tea, I’m really good at laundry, I-”

You cut the man off with a press of your lips to his, silencing him with a muffled noise as his hand squeezed at your hip.

“You don’t have to give me any reasons.” You mumbled against his lips, feeling them curl into a small smile as he made a noise of delighted surprise. He knew you were only teasing, but he couldn’t believe you hadn’t dragged it out longer.

“Really?” He grinned, causing you to giggle beneath him out of sheer fondness.

“Yeah, I’ll move in with you.”

“Really, really?” He grinned, his doe eyes sparkling at you as you nodded to confirm, laughing at the man’s goofy repetition of the question you’d already answered.

“So, we’re actually doing this? We’re moving in together?” He raised his eyebrows, face melting into a grin as you brushed his hair back from his forehead.

“I think we’re ready, don’t you?” You smiled, the look of absolute happiness on your boyfriends face almost making you tear up as he all but hugged you to his frame.

“I know we’re ready, baby.” He nodded, kissing you again as you both continued smiling like idiots.

“Wait, how do we do this?” You asked, Jungkook furrowing his brows as he pondered your question.

“Huh. I don’t know.” He chuckled, you giggling along with him before sighing in thought.

“Do we want to look for a new apartment altogether?” You wondered aloud, Jungkook bouncing his head back and forth in thought, hair moving with his head.

“We could. Do you really want to leave here, though?” He raised his eyebrows in surprise when you shrugged in response, raising your hand to cup his cheek lovingly.

“I don’t care where I live as long as you’re with me. What about your place?” You offered, Jungkook mirroring your earlier response with a quirk of his shoulders up to his face.

“You’re my home.” He put simply, laughing when your bottom lip jutted into a pout, pressing kisses over your face as your eyes filled with water out of pure adoration for the man.

At the memory, you felt your eyes water again, looking up at Jungkook with a pout. Your boyfriend, wrinkling his nose at your expression, poked at your bottom lip, tutting his tongue at you.

“What happened to not caring where you lived as long as I’m with you?” He teased, squeezing your shoulder with a smile.

“I still feel that way, Kookie.” You assured him with a grin, taking his hand as he wiggled his fingers out to you.

“Good. We’re going to create so many more memories in our new home, I promise.” He said, baring his teeth to you again as he felt you squeeze your fingers around his hand.

“I know. I can’t wait to create more memories with you.” You sighed dreamily, leaning in for another chaste kiss on the man’s tempting pout.

“So,” he leaned his forehead against yours, “are you feeling ready to leave now?”

His words were soft, but they weren’t spoken with tentativeness. There was obvious excitement in his tone, an emotion that had you wanting to spring off your bay window and never look back.

“Let’s go.” You smiled, coming to a stand as Jungkook remained seated, grinning at you in amusement at your sudden change in attitude about leaving this place.

“Alright, boss.”

With a grunt, he came to his feet, never letting go of your hand as you made your final stroll through the apartment together.

Passing through the years’ worth of memories within the walls, you both took a silent few steps before pausing in the entryway, giving the place one last glance before meeting each others eyes with small, matching smiles.

Turning the handle to your front door for the last time, you let the latch slide closed like you had so many times before, tick-tick tacking as it came to a secure shut.

Shutting the door behind you, simultaneously opening a new one.

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nowandajenn · 3 years

Text

Blue Christmas- Eight

Pairing: Chris Evans/OC Kelly

Summary: After almost three years of marriage, everyone would tell you that Chris and his wife Kelly are the most stable, solid couple they know. But behind closed doors, things are tense as they keep trying for a baby, to no avail. When a secret threatens to shake their solid marriage to it’s core, will they be able to pick up the pieces?

I do not consent to have my content, whether it be this story or anything else of my creation, posted by a third party on any other platform other than right here without my permission. This blog is 18+ and is not intended for minors. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Heed the warnings.

Warnings: mentions of cheating, smut, language, angst, mentions of miscarriage. If any of this is triggering to you, do not read.

A/N: This is going to be very dialogue heavy, and will have flashbacks of the night that Chris cheated and everything that happened. Flashbacks will be in italics. Just a warning, this chapter is a BEAST. There’s a lot to unpack, and it’s going to be super emotional.

December 29

Chris watches from his seat in the comfortable leather recliner in our living room as I twist my wedding and engagement rings around on my finger. It’s a nervous little habit that I do without even really realizing it or thinking about it. A million thoughts cross his mind as he sits silently, waiting for me to say something.

After taking a few deep breaths to try and steel myself for the conversation that I KNOW that Chris and I need to have, I finally look up from the floor and at him.

“Do you want a divorce?” Okay, the thousand different times I pictured this conversation happening in my head, that was definitely NOT one of the ways. Apparently my mouth and brain aren’t communicating very well today.

Chris looks up at me, his expression aghast.

“Wha-.......” he tries to speak, but is too stunned to even form the words.

“Is that why you cheated? You don’t want to be with me anymore, so you went somewhere else for whatever is it that you weren’t getting from me?”

“No! Jesus Christ, no! I love you. I love you so much that it hurts. I can’t imagine my life without you. No, I don’t want a divorce.” he tells me.

“Okay, if that’s not it, then you have to help me out here. Because I don’t understand what possible reason you could have for cheating. It had to be something that I did. Or something I didn’t do. I need you to tell me what happened. Because until I have all the facts and I understand what the hell happened, we can’t move forward.”

He sits forward in the chair and sighs.

“What do you want me to tell you?”

“I want you to tell me what happened that night after we FaceTimed. I want to know what happened between then and the next morning.” I tell him.

“You KNOW what happened.” he says miserably.

I shake my head. “No, I know the end result. I want you to walk me through every single thing that happened that night. Everything you were thinking, everything you did.”

“Why? What good is that going to do? What’s the goddamn point? How is me telling you everything that happened going to help ANYTHING? All it’s going to do is hurt you more, and I can’t do that. I won’t.”

“The point is, if we have even the smallest hope of getting through this intact, with our MARRIAGE intact, I need to understand this. I need to know. I need to know, because when I go to sleep at night, all I can see in my head is all the things that I imagine happened that night. And I need to know if what actually happened is better or worse than what I can imagine happened. I have a right, as your wife, to know what you did.”

Chris looks up, silently pleading with you to not make him do this, but he knows that you’re right. You do deserve to know, even if it’s going to devastate you.

“After we got off the phone, I had to go right back into interviews and there was two more photo calls we had to do, so by the time we got done it was about 7:30 that night. I was distracted the whole time. I hated that we fought, and I felt like an asshole, and I just wanted to call you back and apologize, but I didn’t have time. Plus, I figured that we both probably needed a little bit of time to cool down. I told myself that I was going to call you that night before I went to bed so we could talk more and I could apologize to you. We all got out of there, and Cate and Robert and the rest of them wanted to go to dinner, so we came back to the hotel, changed, and then went out to eat.” Chris tells me.

“What time did you get back from dinner?”

“Around 10, I think. It couldn’t have been much later than that. Everyone else was talking about going out and finding a bar or a club to go to, but I just wanted to come back to the hotel and relax. I wasn’t in the mood to be around a lot of people.”

I pull my feet up on the couch and tuck them under me.

“Okay, so you got back to the hotel, and then what did you do?”

For as tired as he was, Chris couldn’t relax. He tried taking a hot shower, laying in bed watching TV, browsing social media, and flipping through pictures on his phone. Finally, after about 45 minutes and getting more and more keyed up and anxious, he decides to go down to the hotel bar.

When he walks in, the place is empty except for an older couple seated down at the end and the bartender. Chris slides himself onto one of the stools and the bartender makes her way over to him.

“Thank God. A friendly face.” she says with a smile.

Chris glances down the bar at the couple. “They seem pretty friendly.” he remarks.

“Yeah, but they’ve been here for an hour and they’re literally babying their drinks, and aren’t much for conversation that doesn’t involve each other. I’m bored out of my mind.”

She stick her hand out. “I’m Jo.”

Chris reaches across the bar and shakes her hand with his own. “Chris. Nice to meet you.”

“So, Chris, what’s your poison?”

“What was her name?” I ask him. He just referred to her as “the bartender” and “she”.

He runs his hand down his face and over his beard.

“I don’t......I honestly can’t remember. It was one of those boys names for a girl. You know.....Alex or Max or James.......I don’t......I can’t remember.”

I cover my face with my hands and take a deep breath. I want to scream already, and he’s not even deep into the story. I shake my head slightly.

“You slept with this girl, and you don’t even remember her NAME.” I say softly.

Chris hangs his head.

“Keep going.”

She pours him another measure of whiskey, along with a shot for herself. They clink glasses and swallow the amber liquid, letting it burn it’s way down.

“So what did you and your wife fight about?” she asks him.

Chris sighs.

“It’s......it’s complicated.”

“Hey, I’m a bartender, which means that I’m a really great listener. It’s practically a job requirement. You might feel better if you talk about it.”

“We’re trying to have a baby.”

“Soo....what’s the problem. Trying is the fun part!”

“We’ve been trying for a year and a half almost, and nothing’s happening. She’s perfect; there’s absolutely nothing wrong with her that would keep her from getting pregnant, but it’s just not happening. And we both want a baby so bad, and the look on her face when......it fucking kills me.”

He knows that he shouldn’t be telling a complete stranger all of this, especially considering who he is, but the alcohol has loosened his tongue, and if he doesn’t spill his guts to someone, he’s going to explode.

Jo puts a soft, warm hand over his.

“I’m sorry, That has to be tough. For both of you.” she says softly.

“I mean, I guess I never thought that it would take actual work, you know? I assumed that ‘hey, if we just keep having sex, eventually she’s going to get pregnant’ and it would be easy. She’s getting scared and fed up and talking about adoption and fertility doctors, and I hate seeing her so stressed out and upset, and I kind of just.....I said some things and made it worse and I feel like a complete fucking jackass.”

“What if you guys can’t have kids?”

“As much as I want to have kids with her, I don’t need them to be happy. As long as I have Kelly in my life, I’ll be perfectly happy. Do I want to be a dad? Yeah, absolutely. But there are so many kids out there that need good homes, so there are other options, but I don’t think that we’re there yet, you know?”

I get up and storm out of the room with Chris right on my heels.

“Kelly, wait, please.....”

He touches my arm and I spin around to face him, and the look in my eyes makes him fall back a step.

I’m so pissed off and hurt right now I could spit nails.

“You......you told her.....EVERYTHING. You told her.....EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING, Chris! Do you even......do you even fucking understand what you did? Like.....”

I squat down close to the floor and put my head between my knees. My heart is pounding and I’m so worked up that I’m afraid I’m going to pass out if I don’t calm down. And I’m not going anywhere or doing anything until I get the whole damn story.

“Look, I know-”

I look up at him incredulously.

“No! No, you don’t know! You don’t know shit! You fucking betrayed me, in every single sense of the word. You didn’t just fuck her, you told her, a complete stranger, about me. About us trying to have a baby. You told her about things that you never even fucking bothered to tell me! Do you realize that she could go to the press? She could go and spill all of these juicy little secrets that you spilled to her over shots of Jack and have herself a nice little pay day.”

“Kelly, you wanted to know what happened that night, so I’m telling you what happened, despite everything inside of me screaming at me not to. I’m not going to lie to you or keep things from you. You wanted to know everything.” Chris says.

I squeeze my eyes shut and grit my teeth so hard that my jaw hurts.

“I can’t look at you right now. I need a break.” I tell him, grabbing my jacket. I grab Dodger’s leash off the peg in the hallway and call for him.

Dodger trots over, tongue lolling out of his mouth, happy to be going on a walk.

“I’ll be back in a while.”

Forty five minutes later, I’m in the utility room stripping off my wet clothes after getting Dodger dry and wiping off his paws.

Chris stops pacing the kitchen when he sees me walking through the house in my bra and underwear.

“What happened to your clothes?” he asks.

“Dodger saw a squirrel and got excited and kind of dragged me through a snow bank.” I sigh. I throw my clothes in the dryer and make my way into our room to get changed.

“Dodge, come on.....” Chris admonishes. Dodger just jumps up on the bed and curls up.

I throw on a pair of gray sweatpants and a blue Patriots hoodie that’s hung over the back of the chair in our room and sit down on the side of the bed.

“I want to know the rest.” I tell Chris.

He sits down heavily on the end of the bed.

“No, you don’t.”

I swallow thickly. “You’re right. I don’t. But it doesn’t matter, because you’re going to tell me anyway.”

Hours pass with Jo and Chris laughing and talking and flirting back and forth, until it’s 1am and the bar closes for the night.

“Thanks for sticking around and hanging out tonight. I think I would have died of sheer boredom if you hadn’t.” Jo laughs softly. She offered to walk him back to his room as he was pretty well drunk and a little unsteady on his feet.

“It was no problem. I didn’t really want to be alone tonight to be honest. I used to do really well on my own. I was used to it, and then......I wasn’t alone.” Chris tells her.

Once they reach his room, they linger outside for a few minutes, both of them not really wanting the night to end. Jo steps closer to him, knowing exactly what she wants and completely unashamed about it.

“You should kiss me.” she says softly, looking up at him with big doe eyes. She places her hands on his chest and instead of immediately backing away like he should have, he leans into her touch.

Chris closes his eyes as he feels his mouth go dry and a strange fluttery feeling in his stomach. He hasn’t really felt this way since....

He opens his eyes and breathes out deeply. “I can’t. I’m married. I’m married and I’m insanely in love with my wife.”

“So? You should kiss me anyway. I can tell you want to. You’ve been flirting with me all night.” she says, taking a step closer. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise. You need a way to release all this tension you’ve got, and I’m more than willing to help you out anyway I can.”

Before his brain can scream at him to stop, he’s wrapping his arms around her and covering her mouth with his, kissing her soundly. It’s a battle of teeth and tongues, both of them trying to take control from the other. Without breaking apart, Chris manages to get his key card out of his pocket and gets the door open, pushing both of them through it and slamming it behind them.

“This never goes beyond this room. We never talk about this ever again.” Chris gasps, pulling away from her just long enough to get the words out.

“Absolutely.” she agrees.

Clothes are torn off and tossed to the floor in a frenzy, and as soon as Chris drops his pants and boxers, Jo sinks to her knees and takes him in her mouth, swallowing him almost all the way down.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Christ, yes, just like that.” he moans out.

He brings his right hand to her hair, holding it in a makeshift ponytail while his left hand goes to her shoulder.

She almost makes him lose his mind with the things she can do with her tongue, and within minutes, he’s fucking her face roughly as spit runs down her chin and tears are springing to her eyes from the assault on her throat, but she loves it. She has the man she’s fantasized about for years shoving his cock down her throat, and she’s never been more turned on in her life. She smirks to herself as she wonders if his wife ever sucks him off like THIS.

When he can’t stand it anymore, Chris pulls her off his dick and takes a few deep breaths.

“I need a condom.”

“Right. I have one in my purse.” she tells him as she reaches for her bag and finds it and hands it to him.

“Get on the bed. On your hands and knees.” he says roughly. While her mouth was wrapped around him, he was mesmerized and couldn’t look away, but now he finds that he doesn’t even want to look at her face. He rolls the condom over his cock, giving it a few strokes before sinking into her from behind.

Tears stream down my face as I process all of what Chris just told me, and I can’t even BREATHE with how devastated I feel. It’s like a hole just got punched through my chest. I try and take a breath in, but it turns into a strangled sob and I drop my head into my hands and just let it out.

Chris swallows thickly, wiping away his own tears as he watches me fall apart across from him, wishing that he could do something.....ANYTHING to take all the pain away. To go back and undo everything that he did so you wouldn’t hurt. All he feels is deep, unrelenting shame and he knows in his gut that if you asked for a divorce after hearing all of his sins laid bare, he wouldn’t be surprised or even have the right to be devastated. He made his bed.

I feel bile rising in my throat, and I stumble to my feet and race to the downstairs bathroom, falling to my knees and vomiting painfully as the image of my husband kissing this woman and fucking her run through my head. I barely notice Chris come into the bathroom until I feel him pulling my hair back and securing it with a hair tie, and rubbing my back softly. I can’t even find the breath or the energy to tell him to get away from me and drop dead.

I’m so damn tired. Like, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this level of physical and mental exhaustion before. I sink back into the pillows a little more, and look over at Chris. Neither one of us have said a word since he picked me up off the bathroom floor and stood there with his arm around my waist as I brushed my teeth. That was 45 minutes ago.

“It was just sex?” I ask.

He exhales. “It was just sex. It was just once.”

I look back up at the ceiling and try and make sense of everything.

“I don’t understand. I don’t understand any of it. I don’t understand why you would sleep with another woman.”

“I-I don’t know. I was lonely because we were fighting, and I missed you so goddamn much, and I was afraid of what was happening to us with all of the stress and I just......I got drunk, and I did a horrible thing. I did a horrible thing, and I wish that I could take it back. I wish I could take it back so bad it hurts. But I can’t. And I have to live with that for the rest of my life.” Chris says.

I lift my eyes to meet his. “You were lonely? That’s your excuse? You were lonely, and you were upset. So you stuck your dick in another woman.”

I stand at the kitchen sink and drain a glass of water in record time, and refill it. Turns out crying all day and then puking can kind of dehydrate you. I can sense Chris behind me, even though he doesn’t say anything.

“Two years ago, a couple of weeks after you left for Africa to start shooting the movie, I found out I was pregnant. We hadn’t even officially started trying yet, so it came as a pretty big surprise. But I was so happy, and I couldn’t wait to tell you. I didn’t want to tell you over the phone, especially when you were so far away, so I was going to surprise you when you came home. I had it all planned out. I practiced telling you standing in front of the bathroom mirror, just so I could see the stupid happy look on my face.”

I feel tears prick my eyes, and I swallow down the sob that I feel threatening to come out. I turn towards Chris, and the look on his face is heartbreaking.

“What?” he breathes out.

“I was at a job.....I was shooting a birthday party for a little girl who was turning one. All I could think about was that that was going to be us eventually, and it made me so happy. Everything was fine, but then I started having horrible pain in my stomach. It got so bad that I collapsed, and the parents called 911 when they realized that I was bleeding. They did an ultrasound at the hospital, but they couldn’t find the baby’s heartbeat. I had already miscarried. You don’t know anything about feeling lonely until you’re by yourself laying on a table with your feet in stirrups while a doctor cleans out your uterus.”

Chris is sunk down in one of the kitchen chairs with his hand over his mouth and tears running down his face. This is the first time he’s hearing any of this.

“Why didn’t-” his voice cracks, and he takes a minute and clears his throat before he tries again. “Why the hell didn’t you call me? Why didn’t you tell me? I would have come home!”

“Chris, you were 8,000 miles away from home. There wasn’t anything you could do. It was too late. They had to do the procedure as soon as possible. I didn’t.....I hadn’t told anyone else that I was pregnant. And I didn’t want to call your mom or sisters because I didn’t want them to find out. I knew if they found out they would call you, and you would be devastated. And I couldn’t do that to you when you were so far away. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you. I was trying to protect you.”

The sound of his fist slamming against the heavy oak table makes me jump.

“And what about over the last two years? Huh? Don’t you think that I had a right to know? Don’t you think I had the right as your husband, to be there with you? To comfort you? To mourn with you? To even have a fucking clue about what happened?”

I take a deep breath.

“You did. You should have been there. You should have been there with me to hold my hand and cry with me and tell me that it was going to be okay, even though it was a lie. But you weren’t. You were doing your job. I don’t know if you realize it, but when you leave for work or press or whatever it is that you have to leave me for, you’re not the only one who’s lonely. You’re not the only one who has to deal with the silence. But you don’t see me going out and fucking someone else.”

Tears start to swim in my eyes again, and I suddenly feel like if I don’t get out of the house right now, I’m going to suffocate. I’ve been in here with Chris literally all day while we picked apart his affair, and I’m exhausted. I’m hurt and emotional and talking about the baby that we lost just made everything worse.

“I’m gonna go. I just.....I can’t handle anything else today. I know you’re probably really pissed off at me right now, and honestly, the feeling is mutual. Things are already about as bad as they can be, so I’m gonna leave before we have a chance to make it worse.”

The last thing I see before I walk out the door is Chris sitting at the table with his head in his hands, sobbing while Dodger sits on the floor next to him, whining in distress.

The Usual Suspects: @averyrogers83 @wordywarriorwrites @imanuglywombat @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @hlkwrites @reminiscingrogers @mom—nicole @jtargaryen18 @alexakeyloveloki @kelbabyblue @sarahp879 @moonlessnight14 @mojean13 @mrskokitztelford @artisticrogers1972 @southerngracela @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @mybesttobobcratchit @gracethegeek9902 @mdemontespan1667 @marvelfansworld @capslut2014 @dispatchvampire @jamielea81 @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @southerngracela @what-is-your-plan-today @letsdisneythings @theladybiers @lexeeehhh @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @autumnrose40 @donutloverxo @harrysthiccthighss @jessaywahh-blog@smediumsmeatbae @before-we-get-started @lizette50 @littlegasps @rageshots @what-is-your-backupplan-today @clairebubbles @patzammit @sweet--catrastophe @pandaxnienke @redhairedfeistynerd @hails270105 @syms-things-5 @chezdricks @denisemarieangelina @christ0pher-evans @supersquirrel1996 @thumbeliina

#blue christmas #chris evans #chris evans x wife #chris evans x kelly evans #rpf #cheating #angst #miscarriage #infertility #back to that night

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bluejayblueskies · 3 years

Note

53 + Jon for kiss prompts <3

kiss prompt list!

53 - against a wall kiss

i went with jontim! cw for mentions of ghosts, hauntings, and demons, mentions of decay and rot, bats (the animal), and mentions of alcohol

Jon looks up from the small scrap of paper he’s holding, squints suspiciously at the building in front of them, and looks back down at the paper with a frown. “This can’t be right.”

“Huh,” Tim says, peering over Jon's shoulder at the paper. It’s barely illuminated by the faint glow of the streetlamps, small pinpricks of light against the night sky. “This was supposed to be a haunting, right? Some lady kept seeing a shadowy figure out of the corner of her eye, and her lights kept burning out.”

“Alleged haunting,” Jon says tersely. “You know as well as I do that the ‘ghost’ statements are usually absolute rubbish.”

“Yeah, but this one’s got zest,” Tim says with a grin, swiping the paper from Jon’s hands and ignoring Jon’s noise of protest. “Usually it’s all oh, there’s a cold spot and I came home to find the telly on or whatever. But shadowy figures of darkness and deceit—”

Tim gasps dramatically. “Jon, we could be dealing with a demon.”

Jon fixes Tim with an unimpressed look. “It’s more likely that we’ve driven two hours outside of London just to waste our time staring at a house that looks like it hasn’t been lived in for thirty years.”

“Yeah,” Tim says with a grimace, “the place could really use a paint job. And, uh. Some actual glass in the windows.”

Jon sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, and mutters something under his breath about don’t get paid enough to—

Tim couldn’t agree more.

“Fine,” Jon says, sounding resigned. He rifles through his satchel for a few moments before retrieving a small black torch. He clicks it experimentally on and off a few times. “We might as well get this over with.”

“As much as I love your enthusiasm,” Tim says, “the place is very clearly condemned, Jon. The chains across the door don’t exactly scream hey, come in, it’s completely safe!”

Not to mention that, technically, they’d have to break and enter. But Tim had learned long ago that the only problem Jon had with that was the physical effort it took to lift himself through broken windows and over chain-link fences. He’d decided, the first time he’d seen Jon pull a lockpick set out of his pocket and pick a lock in less than a minute, that he did, in fact, have a bit of a predilection toward delinquency. Particularly when said delinquent dressed like a college professor and used words like ‘ostentatious’ and ‘salient.’

The being a little bit in love with him bit had come later. But it wasn’t like Tim hadn’t seen it coming.

“I don’t think there will be any demons,” Jon says flatly, and before Tim can explain that he was actually talking about things like asbestos and rotten floorboards, Jon’s crossing the street at a quick pace and approaching the house.

“Christ,” Tim mutters under his breath, scooping his backpack up from the ground and swinging it over his shoulder as he jogs after Jon. “Forget safety, let’s- let’s just run right into an abandoned building. Great.”

By the time Tim’s wriggled his way through one of the ground-floor windows, Jon’s already scanning the inside of the house with his torch, an expression of intense concentration on his face as he maps the walls, ceilings, and floor. “Forget thirty years,” Jon says under his breath. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s ever lived here.”

Jon’s right; beneath all the rot and decay and dust, the house itself is threadbare and hollow, walls a dull white and floor still an unfinished wood. Somehow, that more than anything makes Tim’s stomach turn with unease. “Right, well. This has been fun, but I think we’ve established that the statement belongs solidly in the discredited section so maybe we should… go?”

Jon makes a noncommittal noise. “Why? It’s just gotten interesting.”

“Right,” Tim says under his breath, hating how fond he sounds. “If this house collapses on top of us and we die, I am never going to forgive you.”

Jon scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous. Nothing’s going to happen.”

“Nothing’s going to happen?” Tim demands, having just sprinted halfway down the street and into a small side alley with Jon’s hand firmly grasped in his, practically pulling him along.

A bit breathlessly, Jon says, “Well, I- I was right. The house is still very much intact.”

Tim affixes Jon with the strongest glare he can muster, his heart still threatening to jump straight out of his chest. “Jonathan.”

Jon throws his hands up in the air, dragging Tim’s hand with them. “How was I supposed to know that there was something living in there?”

“Because it was condemned, Jon! Of course there were things living there.”

Jon lets out a noise that’s somewhere between a groan and a laugh. “They were just bats, Tim. I would think that would be a significant improvement from demons.”

“Hey, at least I get paid to deal with demons!” At Jon’s raised eyebrow, Tim amends, “Alleged demons. I can handle the monster-under-the-bed stories, but—”

Tim shudders. “Bats. I hate bats.”

Jon’s mouth curves into a smile, and this time the noise he makes falls squarely into the realm of a chuckle. “Yes, I noticed. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you make a noise quite like that.”

“Hey, if you were getting assaulted by God’s most abhorrent creation on this Earth, you also would have screamed. I feel no shame.”

Jon seems to realize that he’s still holding Tim’s hand at the same time Tim does. But instead of letting go, Jon squeezes Tim’s hand tighter and says, “I am sorry. I… may have gotten a bit carried away.”

“Mm, a bit,” Tim agrees pleasantly. He squeezes Jon’s hand back reflexively, and Jon’s intake of breath is audible.

Huh.

Maybe it’s the adrenaline making him bold, or maybe Tim’s just gotten tired of waiting, but he finds it surprisingly easy to take a step closer, bracketing Jon between him and the brick wall of the alleyway, and say, “Jon, if I’m being completely honest: running away from a swarm of bats after breaking into a half-rotted building isn’t the worst way I pictured this evening going.”

“Oh?” Jon says, voice pitched slightly higher.

“I mean,” Tim says with a barely-concealed grin, “running from danger, hand in hand, catching our breath in a very narrow alley?” He shifts a bit closer to Jon, just to prove his point. “Could be worse.”

Jon looks down at their still-joined hands, then back up at Tim with a small frown. “Are you…?” He cuts off with a small sound and a shake of his head. “Ah. Never mind.”

God help him. Tim opts for bluntness, because if he’s going to show a few cards he may as well turn over his entire hand. “Jon, there is nowhere I’d rather be right now than holding your hand in a dingy alleyway.” He pauses, considering, then says, teasingly, “Well, almost nowhere. I hear the Canary Islands are nice this time of year.”

Jon just stares at him for a long moment. Then, just as nerves start to creep up the back of Tim’s throat, Jon lets out a small, breathy laugh and says, “Well, until we get a statement about the Canary Islands, I suppose this will have to do.”

Tim scoffs. “Have to do. You flatter me.”

The smile Jon gives him warms him from the inside out. Carefully, Tim lifts his free hand and settles it on the bricks next to Jon’s head. Jon inhales sharply, and his eyes when they meet Tim’s are wide. Suddenly unsure, Tim says quietly, “Is… is this okay?”

The noise Jon lets out is startlingly close to a whine, and he nods once before saying, in a small voice, “Are you going to kiss me or not?”

Oh, Christ.

Jon’s barely finished speaking when Tim leans in, tangles his fingers more firmly with Jon’s, and captures Jon’s lips with his. Jon lets out a contented sigh and relaxes back against the brick wall, and god, Tim’s never going to get that sound out of his mind. He presses closer and deepens the kiss, documenting every one of Jon’s little noises and sighs and storing them away for later, so he can relive this moment again and again and again.

Tim’s not sure how long they stand there, Jon’s back against the wall and Tim’s hand splayed flat on the brick next to Jon’s head, before a bright flash of car headlights startles them apart. As the light fades, Jon lets out a sound suspiciously close to a giggle before pressing his free hand to his mouth to hide his smile. “Sorry,” he says, his voice muffled by his hand. “I just… all the times I imagined kissing you, I really didn’t have this in mind.”

Tim’s brain, for a brief moment, bluescreens. “All the times?” he says in disbelief. “Jon, all the times?”

Jon drops his hand, looking sheepish. “Yes, well. In my defense, I thought you weren’t interested.”

“Not—” Tim cuts off with an exasperated noise. He reaches down and takes Jon’s hand in his, threading their fingers together and squeezing once. “Let it go on record that I have wanted to kiss you for a long time now and that I am very much interested.”

“Yes,” Jon says, amused. “I know that now.”

Tim groans. Under his breath, he mutters, “Not interested. Ridiculous.”

Jon laughs softly before leaning forward and pressing another chaste kiss to Tim’s lips. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m glad that I was wrong.”

“Jonathan Sims, admitting that he was wrong? I thought I’d never see the day.”

Jon gives him a glare without any heat. “Yes, yes, all right.”

I love you, Tim wants to say. But it’s entirely too early for that, and he’s certainly not going to give his heartfelt love confession in an alleyway that he’s starting to realize smells something awful. So instead, he pulls lightly on Jon’s hand and says, “Well, I’m definitely not working any more today. Fancy a pint?”

“Only if you don’t ridicule my taste in beer.”

“One time, Jon! That was one time.”

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #tim stoker #jontim #my writing #my fic #my longest kiss prompt yet bc i have no self control

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trulymadlysydney · 3 years

Text

Somewhere In Time: Eleven

“...and when one of them meets the other half, the actual half of himself, whether he be a lover of youth or a lover of another sort, the pair are lost in an amazement of love and friendship and intimacy and one will not be out of the other's sight, as I may say, even for a moment...”

― Plato, The Symposium

tw: Death

Previous Chapters HERE

***Please Do Not Repost Without Permission***

April 25th, 2000, 12:06pm

It’s been a long, long few months for Roni.

Today is one of the first warm days New York has experienced in a while, and it’s one of the first times Roni has felt strong enough to actually leave her house without breaking down and sobbing.

Still, she’s aware she isn’t exactly at peak performance either.

Presently she finds herself at the supermarket, bare-faced and exhausted. She reaches up to rub at her eyes, which at this point burn permanently with how often she’s been crying over the past few months. She’s sure she must look a mess as she walks through the building, searching numbly for the few items her grandmother had sent her for.

Her grandmother, sweet and more than mildly concerned for Roni’s well being, had thought it would be wise for Roni to get out of the house for a bit. Over the past few months, Roni has gone on a few walks here and there, but each time she’d returned home looking more wilted and devastated than she had when she’d left. It was disconcerting, to put it lightly, but of course the older woman had comforted Roni through every minute of it.

That being said, however, she’d wanted to push Roni to make the effort to get out of this funk (or at least up and over the hump that stood before her), and although it makes Roni feel strange and disgustingly vulnerable to be out here among other people like this, she can’t say she blames her grandmother for trying.

Besides, there’s something that’s been on her mind for ages now, and she thinks today is the perfect day for it.

She has to keep reminding herself to focus on the task at hand first and foremost-- although she can’t for the life of her remember if her grandmother needs 2 percent milk or skim--, because God knows she wants this grocery store trip to be over as soon as possible.

She runs a hand through her hair, realizing dismissively that it’s a bit greasy and overdue for a wash. When was the last time she took a shower?

Ultimately, Roni decides on skim milk (she figures her grandmother will forgive her if she’s wrong) and plops it unenthusiastically into the shopping basket that hangs heavy on her arm. She scans the basket, mentally checking off everything she sees and searching her foggy brain to determine if she’s missed anything.

When she’s absolutely certain she’s gotten everything on her grandmother’s list, she takes in a deep breath, turning on her heel and walking--almost robotically-- to the next area of the store she needs to go to.

The little section of less-than-fresh flowers is located directly next to the produce section, right where it’s always been, and it’s a place that Roni has visited multiple times in her life since her mother’s passing. The task of picking out the prettiest flowers is one that Roni has never taken lightly, of course, and this time is no exception.

Because this time, she isn’t going to visit the grave of her mother. She’s going to find Harry’s.

There’s a pressure on her back mixed with a tinge of anxiety as she scans the colorful flowers in their colorful wrapping. It would be doing Harry a disservice to pick some that are anything less than perfect, but then none of these seem suitable at all.

Roses? No, too dark. Violets? Ironic, but still no.

Roni is startled out of her thoughts when she hears someone behind her clear their throat. Expecting to be asked to kindly move out of the way, she shifts quickly to the right, preparing to offer whoever this person is an apologetic smile.

But then she hears her name.

When she turns she is met by none other than Oliver and his sweet, smiling face. Her heart sinks impossibly deeper into her stomach at the sight.

“Hey!” he greets, as pleasantly as he can manage. “I thought that was you but I wasn’t sure!”

Oliver looks good, save perhaps for the dark circles under his eyes that mirror Roni’s own. He seems far more well put together than Roni for sure, and she’s almost embarrassed by her own appearance. His dark hair hangs limp on his head, and the scent of his aftershave tells Roni that he’s probably just taken a shower before heading over here. She wants to hug him, purely for selfish reasons, but she thinks maybe that isn’t the best idea right now given the circumstances.

He seems to feel the same way, because he holds his hands awkwardly at his side— as if wanting to go to her, but unsure of how to go about it.

So Roni simply smiles. “Oliver,” she greets. “It’s so good to see you!”

And she does mean that. His face is an oddly comforting sight at a time like this.

“It’s good to see you, too, Ron! How have you been?” He asks this question quietly, as if he already knows the answer, but there isn’t a single trace of judgement on his face. That was something Roni had always loved about him, in fact. He never judged. He was always a much better person than she felt she could ever hope to be.

Still, it feels like a loaded question. One that she doesn’t quite feel prepared to answer in the slightest. How does one explain to their ex boyfriend of several years that they’re doing absolutely terrible?

So she shrugs, offering him a half-hearted laugh. “I mean, I’m here.”

Oliver laughs, a sympathetic smile on his face that tells her he feels the exact same way. A wordless sentiment is shared between the two in their smiles, and he nods when she giggles. “Same,” he says. “I’ve been better but… ya know.”

And god, Roni does know.

She gestures at him. “You look great.”

“Thank you! Been working out a lot. Changed my diet a bit. Just trying to be like, you know, healthier and stuff.”

Roni nods. “That’s amazing, Oliver.”

She really does mean it. He does look great, especially compared to the last time she’d seen him. Fresh out of their breakup, running on a maximum of three hours of sleep per night, wordlessly helping Roni pack up her things into boxes and moving them, along with her grandfather, back into her grandparents house.

The first few days of the new year had been awful, to say the least. Roni had hardly spoken, hardly eaten, hardly done much at all except for cry; overwhelmed with sadness and a tinge of guilt— not only for leaving Harry, but for her sudden lack of feelings towards Oliver. And Oliver, the angel that he is, stood by her. Constantly worrying, making sure she was at least drinking enough water, and trying to coax her into telling him what was wrong.

The breakup had not gone at all the way Roni had expected. But then, when do breakups ever?

It was on the 6th day of January, when Roni found herself so completely buried in her grief that she couldn’t stop crying, even for five minutes, or bring herself to step foot out of her bed. Oliver had tried everything, and was obviously growing impatient himself. When he threw his hands up and exasperatedly told Roni he was taking her to the hospital, that’s when she’d done it. She’d blurted out that she couldn’t be with him anymore.

The look on his face was enough to shatter what little bit of her heart remained intact in her chest. He’d asked for clarification, then asked again, then again. When his tears started falling, that’s when the cycle of grief started for him. Denial, bargaining, anger.

Roni, of course, couldn’t tell him everything. She couldn’t tell him about the time travel, and about Harry. She couldn’t tell him anything, really. All she could do was cry.

And cry she did. She cried so hard she got sick, and poor Oliver, through his own tears, called Roni’s grandparents because he didn’t know what else to do. Even in the days that followed, where Roni stayed in the care of her grandparents, she couldn’t give him a straight answer. She wasn’t sure where she would even start, she only begged him to understand that this was the right answer for both of them.

And all the while, her heart had ached. It had ached for her mother, and for Harry. It flooded with overwhelming grief and guilt as Roni constantly wondered if she’d done the right thing leaving 1925.

It had taken a while, but it did get a bit easier after that. Two weeks later, Roni and Oliver ended things-- officially-- both with clearer minds and hearts. Oliver helped Roni’s grandfather move the rest of her things from her and Oliver’s shared apartment back into her grandparents’ home, and she and Oliver talked things through-- as best as they could.

The official reason Roni had given Oliver for their breakup was that she didn’t know who she was on her own and she needed to figure it out; which wasn’t a lie. She had told him, in more or less words, that she was feeling misunderstood and needed to really find out who Veronica Elliot was. After all, they’d been together for nearly ten years. Ten years of her adult life in which she’d done so much growing up, but with him. She needed to grow up on her own.

And Oliver had understood that as best he could. It didn’t make the breakup hurt less by any means, but it made enough sense. All he wanted was for her to be happy, which she appreciated more than she could express. So once she’d gotten settled in with her grandparents, she and Oliver hadn’t spoken again.

Until now.

Oliver nods his head in Roni’s general direction, bringing her from her thoughts. “What’s the occasion?” he asks.

“Hm?”

“You’re shopping for flowers,” Oliver explains with a laugh. “For something good I hope!”

“Oh.” It dawns on Roni that Oliver may actually be able to help her, or at least somewhat understand her current situation. “Yeah. Kind of.” She shifts her weight to her other foot. “Actually… Oliver, do you remember Mr. Styles?”

Oliver furrows his eyebrows. “Who?”

“Mr. Styles. You were assigned to spend time with him in high school. Right before you graduated.�� None of this seems to ring a bell to Oliver, so Roni sighs. “You knoooow,” she tries again. “He gave you the advice? About asking me out? You brought me to meet him?”

Oliver’s confusion only seems to deepen. He shakes his head. “No, I don’t think--”

“He died like, shortly after I met him,” Roni says, growing a bit more impatient. “You went to his funeral!”

“Roni,” Oliver says slowly, “I think you’re confused. I was assigned to Mrs. Brown. Mildred Brown. You met her, but there was no one named Mr. Styles.”

Roni shakes her head. “No,” she says. “No, that’s not true.”

“Yes it is,” Oliver insists, then chuckles. “I would’ve remembered someone with a name that cool.”

“But Harry-- Mr. Styles… he--”

“I knew pretty much every resident in that place,” Oliver says. “There was no one named Mr. Styles. At all.”

Roni lets out a breath, blinking as she tries to process exactly what Oliver is telling her. Of course there was a Mr. Styles. She remembers him vividly, both in his youth and in old age. “No…” she says slowly. “No, there definitely was.”

Oliver shakes his head. “Roni, I’m not lying to you. I knew everybody there. There was nobody with that name.”

Roni is only halfway listening to him as her thoughts run a million miles a minute. “He… no, because...” She trails off, finally blinking confusedly up at Oliver. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” Oliver watches her for a moment, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. After a beat, he speaks again. “You okay?”

“Yeah it’s just… I could’ve sworn--”

“Is that who you were planning on getting the flowers for?” Oliver’s confusion continues to show on his face. “Why?”

“I just--” Roni isn’t even sure where to begin. She sighs. “I just thought… he really meant a lot to you. I wasn’t at the funeral.”

“You’re thinking of Mrs. Brown,” Oliver insists. “I loved that woman. But I haven’t thought of her in years. I’m shocked you even remember her.”

“Apparently I don’t,” Roni jokes half-heartedly. Oliver laughs.

“Where did you come up with that name anyway? It doesn’t even sound remotely familiar.”

Roni, still confused, shakes her head. “I don’t know. I must have heard it in passing or… something.”

“Yeah probably.” Oliver nods towards the flowers. “Anyways. If you’re wanting to get some flowers for Mrs. Brown, she loved lilies.”

Roni glances back towards the cheap bouquets. Lilies. Those might be good.

Her confusion only fogs up her brain more than it already is, and try as she might to hide it, it projects very easily onto her face. Oliver eyes her, as if wanting to touch her but unsure of whether or not he should.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Ron?”

“Yeah,” Roni says quickly, realizing she must look strange. “No, yeah, I’m good. Sorry. Just… brain fart I guess.”

Oliver chuckles. “I know how that goes. Had a ton of those the past couple months. Things have just been like, weird? I guess? That’s the only way I can describe it.”

“I know,” Roni agrees, a tinge of guilt striking her chest. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be!” Oliver says quickly. “Seriously. I didn’t say that to like, make you feel bad or anything. I’m just saying.”

The air is thick with tension all of a sudden, and Roni clears her throat, trying desperately to will it away. Oliver laughs awkwardly.

“Well I don’t want to keep you or anything. I’ll let you get back to your shopping. But it was really good to see you.”

The way he’s smiling at her makes Roni instantly relax, and any awkward vibes in the air fizzle away. She smiles. “It was good to see you, too. Seriously.”

There’s a brief moment of charged energy between the two, before Oliver decides to just bite the bullet and move. He reaches forward before Roni can really even process it and he wraps her up in a hug.

It feels ridiculously comforting in a way that Roni would have never expected, and she surprises herself when she feels her eyes grow misty. She hadn’t realized how badly she’d needed a hug just in general, and she definitely hadn’t thought the most comforting one would come from Oliver himself. She relaxes into him, wrapping her arms around his torso and giving him a gentle squeeze in return.

They stay like this for a while, and Roni realizes that Oliver probably needs this just as badly as she does. She feels him take a deep breath in through his nose, burying it in her hairline and sighing quietly under his breath. He’s missed her. And Roni can’t lie and she hasn’t missed him, it’s just different.

She can’t go back to him. She absolutely cannot.

“Please take care of yourself,” Oliver mumbles, before finally pulling out of the hug.

“Hm?”

“Take care of yourself, Ron. Go easy on yourself. Please.”

His words touch Roni’s heart, and she smiles. “Oh. You too.”

He smiles right back at her, and there’s a long moment where she feels like he might say something else. Ultimately he decides against it, and he nods in finality. “Right,” he says. “See ya.”

He’s gone before Roni has even finished saying her goodbye, and she’s left feeling empty and somewhat melancholy. How is it possible to feel so simultaneously relieved, as if some unexpected closure has occurred between the two, and yet so hollow, as if far too many words were left unspoken?

Roni’s stomach churns and she clears her throat, trying to re-center herself.

Flowers. Harry’s grave. Right.

She knows what Oliver just said, and it confuses her to no end, but she isn’t going to give up that easily. She’s certainly not just going to take his word for it; she has to see for herself. She believes the finality of seeing Harry’s grave-- if there even is one-- will grant her the strength to push forward. To know in her heart that what she had with him is long gone. Otherwise, she fears she’ll never be able to shake the feeling that there is lingering unfinished business between them, and it will continue to haunt her until she knows for certain.

Even if Oliver insists Mr. Styles never existed. She has to try.

So Roni sighs, reaching for a bouquet of white lilies that seem to be the least wilted out of all of their counterparts, before making her way to the checkout line.

———————-

The cemetery is somber, but it brings a peaceful sense of calm over Roni as she steps through the gates. It’s colder and cloudier than it was this morning, and Roni finds herself wishing she’d brought a jacket. She takes a deep breath, feeling overwhelmed as she scans the many headstones before her. Finding Mr. Styles’ grave is going to be far more difficult than she’d anticipated.

She takes a step forward along the gravel road that winds through the expansive cemetery. She hadn’t realized it was going to be such a large place, with headstones covering the hills everywhere she turns. It’s only the slightest bit disheartening, but Roni is no quitter. If she can’t find his headstone today, she’ll return tomorrow; and if necessary, every day after that until she finds it.

Oliver’s words echo in Roni’s mind as she walks, scanning each headstone for the name she wants so desperately to see. Why didn’t he remember Harry? Surely she hadn’t dreamt that entire day in which she met the elderly gentleman; she has vivid memories of Oliver calling her cousin’s house where she was staying the day of the funeral and telling her how upset he was. That was real. The books on his nightstand were real.

Harry was real.

In the distance, someone sits on the balcony of their apartment and plays guitar. It’s a melancholy song, and although Roni knows they’re just practicing and this has nothing to do with her, it feels strangely fitting. Roni smiles to herself, enjoying the music, as she continues her way down the path.

It feels silly in a way, to be here without any knowledge of the location of Harry’s gravesite or if it’s even in this cemetery at all. In hindsight, she feels, she could have done just a bit more research. She could have called around, done some inquiring about Harry. To be fair, though, she had called his old retirement home only to find that it was no longer a retirement home, but a preschool; a fact that she found quite odd. The circle of life, so to speak.

As she scans the headstones, she reads each name quietly to herself. She figures it may be best to take the cemetery in sections; a section or two today, another tomorrow. It makes the task feel far less daunting and besides, she could use some more peaceful walks like this in her daily life.

She runs her fingertips along the rough top of a headstone, soberly realizing that there are caskets beneath her very feet at this exact moment. Realizing that everyone ends up here in their lives, and that one day she too will end up here. The thought of Harry being somewhere beneath this grass, however, makes her stomach churn. She hates that she’s here, and she knows it’s too late, but she’s hoping it will give her some type of the closure that she’s aching for.

Roni sighs, muttering a gentle “where are you?” under her breath as she scans the headstones.

She continues along the dirt path, shyly chuckling to herself at some of the names (and immediately feeling guilty for it). She switches the bouquet of flowers from her right hand to her left and wipes her sweaty palm along the thigh of her jeans.

As Roni continues her walk, she grows a bit colder than before. She wraps her free hand around her stomach, as if it’s going to help, and sniffles when the wind tickles her hair across her nose. Today had started out so misleading with such beautiful weather, and now she’s shivering against the chilly wind.

It’s about thirty minutes later when Roni happens upon a headstone bearing a name that draws her attention. The name isn’t exactly the one she’s been searching so desperately for, but it does interest her. She goes to it. turning off the gravel path and walking along the moist grass. As she approaches, she reads aloud from it.

“Mrs. Mildred Brown. Beloved wife and mother. Born October 12th, 1899. Died June 6th, 1990.” Roni sighs as she continues, reading the passage from the Bible written in script along the bottom. “‘Well done thou good and faithful servant.’ Matthew 25:21.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” she mumbles, squatting down beside the headstone to get a better look.

It all checks out, as far as Oliver’s story goes. She regrets not asking him for more information while she had the chance, however. How did Mrs. Brown die? What was it like the day Roni supposedly met her? Had Mrs. Brown been interested in time travel? Why is none of this making sense in Roni’s brain?

As Roni processes all of this, she suddenly gets the unmistakable feeling that she’s being watched. It isn’t a threatening feeling by any means, but she can practically feel a pair of eyes on her out of nowhere, and it is somewhat unsettling.

Of course, her logical brain thinks, she is at a cemetery. There are other people here, no doubt, visiting loved ones. She tries to brush off the feeling, running her thumb over the carved indentations spelling out Mrs. Brown’s name.

Roni notices a rock atop the headstone, indicating that someone has been here to visit Mrs Brown’s grave recently. She feels it would be disrespectful to touch the stone, so she refrains. Instead, she just looks at it, wondering who could’ve left it-- someone in Mrs. Brown’s family?-- and why she can’t, for the life of her, remember this woman.

She can’t shake the feeling that she’s being watched, however, and she glances over her shoulder subtly to see if she can see anyone. She waits a moment, and just as she turns back to observe the headstone once more, she swears she hears her own name.

“Roni.”

The voice is feminine and foreign yet so familiar all at once, and Roni isn’t even sure she’s

actually heard it when she stands up. She turns to her right slowly on her heel, expecting to see someone and feeling slightly disturbed when she doesn’t. She licks her lips, feeling her heart rate increase.

“Who--”

She hears it again, closer now and coming from the other direction, and she turns to her left. Instantly, she is relieved when she realizes who the voice belongs to.

There, standing against a tree with that beautiful, all-knowing smile, stands Violet. Dressed as if she’s just walked straight out of the 1920s.

Perhaps she has.

A million thoughts run through Roni’s head; how did Violet get here? How did Violet know she’d be here? Violet nods, as if reading Roni’s mind.

“Hello, dear.”

Realizing she hasn’t said a word, Roni laughs lightly. “Violet!” She walks over to the mysterious girl, smiling wide. “God, it’s so good to see you.”

As she approaches, she wonders if it would be polite to give Violet a hug. Are they at that level of friendship? Do they know each other that well? Is it weird?

Violet doesn’t allow any more time for Roni to overthink, instead taking charge and pulling her into her arms for a warm embrace.

It’s so ridiculously comforting, and Roni hadn’t even realized just how badly she needed this. When Violet pulls away, she continues to hold Roni at arm’s length, scanning her face. “How have you been?”

“Well…” Roni trails off, then shrugs. “I mean. Not great.” She laughs. “And you?”

“I’ve been well,” Violet replies, voice calming and warm. “My, but it’s good to see you.”

“It’s so good to see you too, Violet. What are you doing here?”

Violet smiles, something subconsciously shifting in her tone, though not in a bad way. “I had a feeling I would find you here,” she explains.

“But how?” Roni asks. “Why today? Why right now?” She leans in. “Why me?”

Violet doesn’t directly answer Roni’s question. “I’ve come to bring you something,” she says, reaching into a satchel that rests on her hip. “Something that might be of great value to you.”

Roni doesn’t want to get her hopes up that this gift has anything to do with Harry, but it’s too late. “Something of great value?”

“Sentimental, if anything.”

Roni can’t help but to deflate. “Oh.”

Violet finds whatever it is that she was looking for and retrieves it from the satchel. It seems to be a folded piece of paper, and she holds it out for Roni to take. Roni hesitates, eyeing the paper cautiously, before taking it from Violet’s hands.

“Read it,” Violet prompts. “It might make you smile.”

Slowly, carefully, Roni unfolds the paper. Her heart starts pounding as her mind runs through all the possibilities of what this could be. Before the note is even fully opened, she stops when she recognizes her own handwriting.

“I know what this is,” she says, looking up at Violet slowly.

“You do,” Violet says, nodding. “Read it.”

Roni swallows down the lump in her throat, casting her eyes back to the paper and reading silently to herself.

Harry-

If you’re reading this, it means that I left. I am safely back where I came from, proving you wrong-- just like I knew I would. However, it seemed rude to leave without a proper goodbye. So here it is. I know I only stayed one night with you, but you’ve been really great. I hope your new year is “swell” or whatever it is you’d say, and that all your hopes and dreams come true. Thanks for letting me stay with you. Sorry about the black eye. Take care.

-Roni

Roni looks back up at Violet, swallowing down the lump in her throat. “I wrote this the day after I got there,” she says, as if Violet didn’t know.

Violet nods again. “You did.”

Roni shakes her head, feeling tears prickle at her eyes. “I don’t understand,” she admits, shrugging in submission, as if Violet is about to play some trick on her.

“Harry’s kept it,” Violet explains, and the way she speaks of Harry in the present tense makes Roni’s heart pound.

“He’s…?”

“Kept it,” Violet repeats. “Yes. He found it under his bed a few days after you left.”

“Is he…” Roni doesn’t want to get her hopes up, so she hesitates to ask. “I mean, are you... have you—“

“I have seen him since you left,” Violet answers, smiling knowingly. “Yes.”

Roni swallows the lump rising her throat as the wind whips her hair lightly against her cheeks. “Is he alright?” The question comes out in a whisper.

“He is alright.” Violet nods. “He misses you.”

For some reason, Violet’s words completely overwhelm Roni. She can’t stop her eyes from welling over with tears immediately , and she lets out a little choking laugh. “God,” she says, reaching up to wipe at her eyes. “Does he?”

“Yes, darling.”

“I miss him so much,” Roni says, only half-heartedly attempting to stop her crying. “Can you tell him that?”

“I can.”

Roni laughs again through her tears and steps closer to Violet. “God, I’m sorry. I probably look like a mess. I just can’t believe you’re here, and I…” She trails off, looking down at the paper in her trembling hands. “It’s real,” she says, almost as if reassuring herself. “He was real. This is real.”

“It is real,” Violet says. “You didn’t imagine him.”

“I’ve felt so…” Roni gestures vaguely as she searches for her words. “So stupid, I guess. I don’t know. I haven’t been able to tell anyone the truth. I’ve started doubting myself. I-- I mean it all just seems so crazy, doesn’t it?”

“It doesn’t.” Violet shakes her head. “Not to me. Though I can understand the hesitation to share your experience with others.”

“And I broke up with Oliver, you know,” Roni continues. “Oliver, my boyfriend. We were together for so long and I… I didn’t love him. I mean I did, but not the way I love Harry. Or… loved Harry. I guess. But I--” she laughs. “God, I’ve never felt more alone in my life than I have in the past like, four months, and I-- I can’t even begin to tell you how good it is to see you. To see… this.” She gestures at the letter, then speaks again; quieter this time, as if to herself. “Fuck, I miss him.”

“Your feelings are completely understandable, Veronica. And justified. You have been through so much. It’s only natural to feel confused. And the connection you have with Harry transcends time itself. But these are odd circumstances, and certainly not a situation that anyone should be expected to know how to navigate. You are not stupid for feeling this way.”

“No,” Roni laughs, almost bitterly. “No, I am. I know I am. It’s just… god, you’re helping me so much just by being here but I--” she sniffs, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her shirt, “I don’t know. I know I need to move on. I know I can’t go back to him but I want to. More than anything else in the world.”

“What would you tell him if you could?” Violet asks, cocking her head to the side.

“Oh god,” Roni says, dabbing at her teary eyes. “I would say…” she trails off, really considering what it is exactly that she would say to Harry if given the chance. She sighs shakily. “I would tell him he’s the love of my life. I would tell him he is the greatest thing that has ever and will ever happen to me in this lifetime. In any lifetime. That I regret leaving him more than anything I’ve ever done. That I miss him. That I love him.”

Roni doesn’t notice the way Violet’s eyes flicker behind her, because she’s still going. “And it’s silly,” she continues, “but I have never stopped hoping he’ll come. I cant…” she sniffs again, “Can’t bring myself to stop. Even though I know he isn’t coming, I’ve never stopped looking for him. I don’t know if I ever will, you know?”

Violet smiles like she knows something that Roni doesn’t, but before Roni can even question it, a voice comes from behind her.

“Well,” it says, slow and deep. “The funny thing about that is, he’s never stopped looking for you either.”

It takes Roni a full ten seconds to even process what she’s hearing, and Violet’s all knowing smile only deepens. Roni whirls around on her heels slowly, her feet still feel frozen into the muddy, damp ground.

And there’s Harry, as young and as handsome as ever, if not a little bit older than the last time she’s seen him.

He smiles, tears welling in his own eyes as he takes a step towards her. “In every timeline,” he says, and takes another step, “in every lifetime. He’s never stopped looking.” He stands only a few mere feet away now, and Roni notes the single tear rolling down his cheek, contrasting his unwavering smile.

“I’ve kept my promise, bunny.”

In a whirlwind, Roni is rushing to him. She trips and stumbles a bit on the mud, falling directly into his arms. She doesn’t even bother standing upright, melting instead into his embrace and wrapping her own arms around him. He does his best to straighten her on her own feet, his arms wrapping tightly around her back, but he loses his own footing and falls ungracefully onto his back.

Neither seem to care about their tumble, and Roni crawls up his body— kissing every possible inch of visible skin she can get her lips onto. Her tears blend into Harry’s own, and he laughs joyfully against her lips as he wraps a supportive arm around her back.

“My god,” Roni sobs into his neck. “My god, my god, what are you doing here?”

“I told you,” Harry says, not even worried about the way his voice cracks. “I never stopped looking. And I found you.”

Roni giggles a wet, teary giggle, squishing his face in her hands and fastening their lips together in a clumsy kiss. He willingly kisses her back, stabilizing her with his hands and squeezing her as if he can’t hold her tight enough.

“Harry,” she sobs, “I missed you so much.”

“Me too, sweetheart.” He kisses her teary cheek. “So fucking much.”

Roni presses a few more haphazard kisses to his lips, as if terrified that she’ll lose him the second she stops. She pulls away after a moment, scanning his face through her own blurry eyes.

“I don’t understand,” she says, “how did you get here?”

Harry beams. “Some people have the gift. Some do not.”

“And you have it?!” Roni asks. “You had it this whole time?!”

Harry laughs at the urgency in Roni’s voice, reaching up to wipe the tears out of his eyes. “I don’t know. I guess so. Violet helped me.”

“Violet!” Roni says, suddenly remembering the witchy girl’s presence. She turns to where Violet had just been standing minutes before, and is surprised to see that she is no longer there. Harry and Roni both scan the graveyard, but Violet is in fact nowhere to be found. Roni furrows her brows. “Where did she go?”

Harry doesn’t reply, instead he tilts Roni’s face towards him for another smiley kiss. Roni needs absolutely no persuasion, melting right into him and sighing contentedly.

“I’m so happy,” she cries against his mouth. “So fucking happy.”

“Yeah?” Harry pulls away, tears still streaming freely down his smiling cheeks. “Me too.”

“This feels like a dream,” Roni giggles. “Genuinely. And if it is, I hope I never wake up.”

Harry giggles. “It’s not a dream, sweet girl. I’m here. And I’m staying.”

Roni scans his face for any sign of sarcasm, taken aback by his words. “You’re… staying?” She asks. She doesn’t want to get her hopes up, but God the thought of Harry being hers forever makes her heart pound in her own ears. “Are you serious?”

Harry beams brilliantly at her, letting go of her back to shrug. “Better be prepared to teach me a thing or two about the future, angel. I’m not letting you out of my sight ever again.”

“Oh my god.” Roni slams her lips into Harry’s, so much so that their teeth clank together, and he chuckles lightly into her mouth.

“I love you,” he says, lips hardly moving from hers. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I don’t understand,” Roni says, pulling back but still holding Harry in her arms. “How did you figure it out? I mean like, the fact that you can time travel. How did you--”

“Trial and error,” Harry explains. “Violet wanted me to wait a while. She said that it would be difficult to learn if I tried right after you left. The broken heart would make it more devastating if we failed.” Harry smiles. “Smart girl, Violet is. But I couldn’t wait very long. About a week later, we started working together to get this all sorted out. We worked on exercises. We worked on visualization. We did everything.”

“And then?”

“It took some time. Obviously. Went to a few different places.” He grins. “The 18th century was a lot of fun.”’

“You went that far back?”

“Sure did. Almost didn’t want to leave.” A playful twinkle glistens in Harry’s eye. “Some old Victorian broad showed me her ankle and I was ready to propose marriage.”

Roni slaps his arm lightly. “Shut up.”

Harry laughs, finding himself so hilarious. “M’joking,” he says. “Of course that didn’t happen.”

“Where else did you go?” Roni asks, then softens. “What took you so long to find me?”

“Wanted to make sure I had the technique perfected,” Harry explains. “Wanted to be sure I knew how to control where I was going. The first time I traveled was only to 1899, and it was quite unintentional. The second time, I was experimenting a bit. That’s how I ended up in 1778. But there was a catch.”

“Which was?”

“It was a different 1778. Not one that you’ve heard of.”

Roni looks confused. “But… how--”

Harry grins like he knows something Roni doesn’t. “Ever heard of parallel universes?”

Roni can’t help the laugh that escapes her lips. “Well holy shit.”

“I take it you’re familiar with the concept?”

“I am,” Roni says. “You were the one who told me about it.”

Harry raises his eyebrows, then immediately furrows them in confusion. “I did? I don’t remember—“

“As an old man,” Roni explains. “I met you when you were like… 90 something.”

“Oh.” Harry’s confusion softens. “No kidding. That’s neat.”

“No but… that would mean...” Roni trails off, confusion etched into her features, as she processes everything that’s going on. “I saw you… you were old…. you died. And Oliver said you… you always talked about this girl from your past... That would have been me, wouldn’t it?”

“I tapped into something even you couldn’t tap into.” Harry seems proud of himself, and he flashes Roni that smug grin she’s missed so much.

“What do you mean?”

“Alternate realities,” Harry explains. “Shifting into another dimension.”

“But how does that--”

“In another universe, yes. Somewhere in time, your memories are true. I was old. I was unsuccessful in finding you. In that universe--” he gestures vaguely around the graveyard, “--I’m six feet under somewhere around here.”

Even he seems to be hit with the somberness of his words. He takes a moment to let that sink in, and then he’s right back to his normal, cheery self. “But!” he says. “I shifted. Into this reality. With the help of Violet, I created a separate timeline.”

“At the cost of--?”

Harry sighs. “I mean. At the cost of some of the people I loved most back home.” He shrugs. “But that’s what alternate universes are for, I suppose.”

“Why couldn’t I have just… created my own alternate universe then? In which I could have kept my mom alive AND stayed with you? Why didn’t Violet give me that option?”

“You could have,” Harry explains. “But there wasn’t a guarantee you could have both. Plus, once you leave one, it is extremely difficult, if not entirely impossible, to get back. You weren’t willing or ready to make that sacrifice. I was.”

“So we’re in a parallel universe?”

“I am. You’re not. You’re in your regular timeline.”

“And you--”

“Shifted into it. Changed the fate’s design, so to speak. It did shift your timeline a bit, as far as my own existence goes. You remember me being old. You remember Oliver attending my funeral. But Oliver doesn’t. No one has any memory of me, in fact.”

“So who are you to everyone then?”

“That’s the beauty of it.” Harry grins. “I’m whoever I want to be. For all they know, I’m a famous singer from the UK who moved here for work.”

“Oh my god,” Roni giggles, leaning in to kiss all over his sweet, teary face once again.

Harry smiles that dimpled smile, obviously over the moon and basking in the way she’s loving on him.

“My sweet boy,” Roni says, lips smushed just below his ear. “My sweet, sweet boy.”

“Missed you,” Harry says quietly. “Couldn’t go on in a world without you.”

Roni bumps her nose tenderly along Harry’s. “I missed you so much.”

Harry laughs quietly to himself. “Can’t even begin to tell you how excited I was when I ended up here. Cried with happiness.”

“How long have you been here?”

Harry’s eyes dart up to the sky as he thinks, doing a bit of mental math in his head. “Two days. Give or take.”

Roni feigns offense. “And you didn’t come find me right away?!”

“Tried. Couldn’t. Didn’t know where you’d be.”

“But how did Violet know?”

Harry smirks. “I don’t know. I don’t know how she knows anything. But it seems she knows everything.”

Roni chuckles. “Apparently so. God.”

Harry hums, brushing Roni’s hair behind her ear and leaning in to kiss her nose. “God, I love you,” he says.

“I love you, too, Harry. Thank you for finding me.”

“Promised you I would,” he says, punctuating his sentence with a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Was so hoping more than anything that you’d be waiting for me.”

Now Roni frowns. “You had doubts?”

Harry shrugs. “No. I mean…” he trails off, eyes scanning the sweeping hills of the cemetery as he considers his words. “No. I don’t know. I was hopeful.”

“But…?” Roni presses, leaning into him.

“But you lived in the future. You had--” he trails off, eyeing Roni carefully. “--have…. A boyfriend?” His statement turns into a question, and the look on his face makes Roni giggle.

“Had,” she answers. “We broke up. Very shortly after I came back.”

Harry frowns. “M’sorry to hear that. Was it… you know...?”

Roni shrugs. “I was hopeful, too,” is the only answer she offers him.

“Hopeful for me?”

“Yeah.”

“You knew I’d find you.”

Roni kisses Harry’s cheek. “I hoped you would.”

“Poor bloke though. I know how hard it is to live in a world without you.”

“Somehow I think he’ll manage.” Roni giggles. “No, actually, I saw him this morning. When I was—“ She trails off, suddenly remembering the bouquet of flowers she’d bought that now lays forgotten a few feet away. Harry seems to notice them at the same time she does, and he turns back to her. He doesn’t push for her to finish her thought, he instead strokes her hair and admires the way it looks in the wind.

“I was going to put flowers on your grave,” Roni explains, sheepishly. “I don’t know what I was thinking was going to happen. Maybe… like, closure or something. I don’t know.”

“Closure,” Harry repeats, smiling. “Wanted rid of the haunting memories of me then?”

Roni rolls her eyes but she giggles that giggle that Harry has dreamt about every night since she’d left. “No, god, of course not,” she laughs. “It’s just that living with the weight of how much I missed you…” She trails off again, and Harry can see the gears turning in her head as she immediately processes another thought. “I still don’t understand,” she says. “I never believed you when you told me. You as an old man, I mean. I’d brushed it off. I hadn’t thought it was realistic.”

Now it’s Harry’s turn to feign offense. “As realistic as time travel.”

“I know,” Roni giggles again. “It’s just that you were old when you told me. I didn’t know you.”

Harry grins now. “Was I a handsome old bastard?”

Roni’s giggles turn into full belly laughs. “I mean, I was like, sixteen. So I didn’t think so, no.”

“Bollocks,” Harry curses, and Roni snorts.

“This is insane,” she says, shaking her head. “I’m talking to you about… well, you… but as an old man. Memories I have of you, that you didn’t even exist for. But you did. I don’t know.”

Harry nods. “It’s an odd thing,” he agrees. “An odd situation we find ourselves in for sure.”

Roni hums in agreement, and a moment of comfortable silence falls between the two. She giggles after a moment, squishing Harry’s cheeks between her fingers and kissing his lips again, slow and smiley.

“God,” she says, when she finally pulls away. “I still feel like I’m dreaming.”

Harry pulls that cheeky look of his that Roni’s missed so much, wiggling his eyebrows. “You want me to pinch you, honey?” He squeezes lightly at her sides and she squeals, wiggling out of his grasp. He beams at the sound, wrapping an arm around her quickly and pulling her right back into him before smooching all over her cheeks and her nose. “C’mere,” he growls playfully. “Not getting away from me that easily. Never again.”

She continues to giggle, submitting completely to him as he tilts her head and kisses her. They laugh into one another’s mouths, their giggles dying down as their kisses increase in intensity. His tongue trails along her bottom lip, and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly Roni grants him access to her own tongue. She’s missed his taste more than she’d ever thought it possible, and she can’t help but to moan when her tongue slides along his.

“Fuck,” she whispers, completely unaware of the fact that she’s crying again.

“Hey,” Harry coos, pulling away and cupping her face with his hands. “Stop that. No more of that. No more crying.” He swipes at the tears under her eyes, stroking her cheek bones as lovingly as he can. There is no way to convey exactly how he’s feeling right now; he’s just so in love with her and so relieved to be holding her again. Seeing her cry, indicative that she feels the exact same way, makes his heart both sink and soar, and his eyes well up with tears all over again.

They both realize he’s crying too at the exact same time, and they laugh at how silly they’re both being. Harry, still holding Roni’s face in his hands, continues to wipe at her tears while she reaches up to wipe at his. They continue to laugh and cry and kiss, holding one another as close as they possibly can and forgetting about the entire world around them.

After a little while, Harry pushes himself to his feet with a little grunt. Roni immediately misses his warmth, which is pathetic, she knows. She can’t help the little whine that escapes past her lips as she reaches for him, and he chuckles as he takes her hand in his. “I’ll be right back, honey, I promise.” He gives her hand a quick squeeze before turning on his heel to go retrieve her discarded bouquet of flowers.

Roni watches him, so completely enamored and in love with him as he walks. He’s dressed sort of funky, not quite in his 1920s style but definitely outdated by today’s standards. He isn’t wearing his cap that she’s missed so much, but his curls are styled messily-- which isn’t helped at all by the wind. He looks so handsome. So soft. So him.

Her Harry.

She still feels like she’s dreaming in all honesty, and as she keeps her eyes glued to him she revels in the fact that he’s here. This person that she’s quite literally ached for for months now, the person she didn’t think she could possibly live without, the person she never thought she’d see again— he’s here. He found his way back to her because he loves her. It simply doesn’t feel real.

Harry picks up the bouquet and buries his nose in them, taking a big inhale and smiling to himself with the cutest dimpled smile. He looks back to see Roni— his sweet Veronica sitting there on the grass, wind whipping her hair and a silly, sweet smile on her face. He’s overwhelmed, really, and he walks quickly to close the space between him and his girl.

When Harry arrives by Roni’s side he plops right back down beside her, kissing both cheeks and the tip of her nose. When he pulls away, he’s smiling softly, and he nods down to the bouquet in his hands. “These were for me?”

“Yeah,” Roni says, somewhat bashfully. “I mean… for your grave. So. Yeah, for you but like… not? I don’t know.”

Harry chuckles, humming as he nods. “Mm.” He reaches into the cheap paper that holds the bouquet together and fingers lightly at a petal. “These are lilies.”

Roni, impressed by his knowledge of botany, smiles. “They are, yeah! How’d you know?”

Harry laughs. “Wasn’t born yesterday, Veronica, for heaven’s sake,” he teases. “In fact, I was born….” Harry scrunches his face, doing a bit of mental math in his head. “About a hundred and one years ago I think!”

“Holy shit,” Roni says, doing the math in her own head. “So you’re… old.”

“Technically, I suppose,” Harry chuckles. “But also, not actually.” He kisses her temple, then reaches into the paper bouquet. Roni wonders briefly what he’s doing, until she sees him snap a lily off of its stem. It looks so delicate between his fingers it makes her shiver, and she hardly has time to register what he’s doing before he’s tucking it gently behind her ear. He moves slowly, his thick fingers brushing lovingly against her skin.

Harry’s eyes scan her face, and in this moment Roni has never felt more loved. He cups her jaw and runs his thumb along her cheek, his green eyes still wet with tears. He hums, his mouth looking so irresistibly delicious, and Roni holds his eye contact with bated breath, waiting for him to do something.

“You are so beautiful,” he says softly, almost more to himself than to her. “My beautiful girl.”

“Your beautiful girl,” Roni repeats, leaning into his touch. “Thank you for finding me.”

“I’ll always find you, Veronica.” Harry drops his hand from her jaw and wraps it around her smaller hand that’s placed in her lap. “In every timeline,” he leans in and kisses her forehead, “in every lifetime,” he kisses her nose, “I will find you,” her lips, “and I will love you with everything I have to give until my heart stops beating.” He kisses her lips again, slower this time, before resting his forehead to hers and allowing his eyes to close.

They sit like this, silently drinking in one another’s presence, and when a tear slips down Roni’s cheek neither of them mention it. Harry presses velvety kisses to Roni’s lips every few seconds or so, and even he’s crying after a bit.

No words are spoken, but no words are necessary. In fact, it doesn’t feel like there would be any words to even begin to describe the happiness in both of their hearts presently. Roni swallows down a lump in her throat and giggles, sniffling a bit.

“God,” she says, “I think I’ve cried more in the past few months than I have in my entire life.”

“Well we’re fixing that,” Harry says, pulling away and wiping at her tears. “Effective immediately. No more tears. From here on out.”

“You promise?”

“Only happy ones. I promise.”

Roni licks her lips, then leans back in to kiss him again. “I like the sound of that.”

They stay like this for a while, disregarding the way it’s getting colder by the minute and the way that the tiny bit of sun that’s peeking through the clouds is beginning to dip behind the treetops. Roni catches him up one everything that’s happened in her life since she’d left him, and Harry tells her all about all the adventures he’s had while trying to find her. They laugh, and they continue to cry on and off (which makes them laugh harder) until Harry finally notices Roni shiver subconsciously at a gust of wind.

“Getting colder,” he observes, then adds “perhaps we should get out of here.”

Roni hums in agreement. “We should. You’ve got to meet my grandparents.”

Harry’s face changes into somewhat amused confusion. “Already?”

“What?” Roni says, rising to her feet and brushing the dirt off of her jeans. “If you’re going to be staying with us you’re going to have to meet them eventually.”

“Yes, but….” Harry rises to his feet as well. “Don’t you think we ought to do this right? I mean, they don’t know me, you’ve just broken up with your long term boyfriend, they’re going to think I’m a creep.”

Roni giggles. “They won’t. I promise. I’ll say you’re a friend from college who’s recently moved to town. We caught up today and you needed a place to stay for a bit. They won’t care.”

“They won’t think it’s… I don’t know, improper?”

“You’ve never met my grandparents,” Roni says. “They’re like the chillest people ever.”

When she’s met with only a look of pure confusion on Harry’s face, she laughs again. “You’re in the twenty-first century now, Harry. It’s your turn to adapt.” She lightly pinches his side, causing him to laugh.

“Suppose so,” Harry giggles, taking her hand in his and interlacing their fingers. “Lots to learn. I have a feeling you’re an excellent teacher, though.”

Roni smiles, swinging their hands as they fall into step, walking along the gravel road winding through the cemetery. “Well, I’ll do my best,” she says. “It’s the least I can do for you after you bent the laws of time itself to come and find me and all that.”

“Exactly,” Harry says, nodding. “Although I won’t lie to you, Veronica, I’m a bit nervous to get it all sorted out.”

Roni gives Harry’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t be,” she replies. “We don’t have to have it all sorted out. When have we ever had anything sorted out?” She laughs quietly to herself. “I’ve come to find that life is much better unplanned.”

“Yeah?” Harry squints, eyes scanning the vast hills as the wind whips his curls messily. “Well, I’ve come to find that you’re right about most things.”

The silence that follows is comforting and soft, but both are thinking the exact same thing. Sure, it is a bit terrifying to start a life together--properly--like this. Harry is here to stay, and as wonderful and exciting as that is, they both know it’s going to be hard work. He’s going to have to adapt, and it isn’t going to be easy. He’s starting from scratch. No job, no house, nothing.

But he does have his honey by his side. And somehow that’s enough.

They exit the cemetery, hand in hand, and Harry tries his best not to look so clueless as he observes the world around him. Roni is patient and gentle with him, answering any questions he has and giggling when he makes jokes. They’ve fallen into their comfortable swing of things that they’ve both missed so deeply, and Harry reckons that with his Veronica holding his hand, he can conquer anything.

As they approach Roni’s grandparents’ house, however, the butterflies in Harry’s stomach begin to act up. His hands grow sweaty and he hopes Roni doesn’t notice. (She does.) He wipes his free hand on the thigh of his trousers and swallows, slowing the pace of his walking until he stops altogether.

He looks up at the big house, daunting but quaint and surrounded by a completely innocent looking white picket fence, and he can feel Roni watching him. She’s nervous, too, he knows it. She gives his hand a squeeze before letting go, and his hand falls dully to his side.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” Roni asks quietly. “I mean, are you sure this is what you want? To be here, in a different time, re-learning the world and the people in it?”

Harry turns to her now. “Of course this is what I want,” he insists, almost defensively. “I just… it’s a bit more scary close up, isn’t it?”

Roni knows he isn’t talking about the house.

“It is,” she says slowly, after a beat. “But, if I know anything for sure, it’s that you and I make an excellent team. Whatever the circumstance, we can navigate it together, even if we haven’t got a clue what the right answer is. Somehow I know we’re always going to figure it out.” She lowers her voice, stepping in closer to Harry. “You’re the bravest, most wonderful man I know, Harry. You’re going to be fine.”

He turns to her, smiling as he swallows down the nauseous feeling in his throat. She beams. “You’re going to be just fine,” she repeats.

Harry reaches forward, taking her hand in his and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to each of her knuckles. “Alright,” he says quietly. “I’m ready.”

Roni smiles, squeezing his hand again and taking a deep breath in through her nose. “To our new life,” she says.

“To our future,” Harry adds. “To… forever.”

Roni nods. “Forever. Yeah.”

With deep breaths and trembling fingers, Harry and Roni step though the little gate surrounding the yard of the house and make their way onward. Into their future. Into the intimidating uncertainty of navigating a life brought on by such unique and odd circumstances. Two souls, interwoven and transcending time and space itself for the chance to be together, taking on the new set of challenges that await them because they have each other.

No matter where they end up in any lifetime, together or apart, they will always find one another somewhere in time.

#Harry Styles #Harry #One Direction #Harry Styles fanfiction #Harry fanfiction #One Direction fanfiction #fanfiction #Harry Styles AU #Harry AU #One Direction AU #AU #Harry Styles angst #Harry angst #One Direction angst #angst #Harry Styles fluff #Harry fluff #One Direction fluff #fluff

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egcdeath · 3 years

Text

wrong place, wrong time

summary: a drunken mishap leads you to reconcile with someone from your past. (based off this prompt)

pairing: andy barber x reader

word count: 2.1k

author’s note: this fic has been sitting in my drafts, half finished, for like months. i hope you enjoy!

warnings: extremely brief mention of cheating

“I just think things would be better if we… you know, saw other people,” Oliver explained through the phone.

You sighed dejectedly into the microphone, before deciding to hang up, and aggressively tossing your phone onto the leather seat next to you. You’d already had a shit day at work, and you really didn’t think that you could handle all of this today. Especially considering that you were almost certain that there was the hint of a feminine giggle in the background of that call.

You’d been expecting this for a while, your relationship with Oliver had been falling apart- slowly but surely- for a few months now, and he was ‘working late’ way too many nights for you not to be the slightest bit suspicious. But it still hurt, you were now single, and you’d essentially wasted a precious year of your life with a douchebag who ended up leaving you anyway.

You pressed your foot on the gas, and began your drive back home, before telling yourself fuck it, and deciding to turn onto a side road so you could head to your local pub.

-----

Several drinks later, you were extremely drunk. From that point on, everything was a bit of a blur.

You stumbled out of the bar (against your own will? You vaguely remember someone telling you that you needed to leave), sat in the back of an Uber (how much did you tell them? Probably too much), arrived at your home (but why weren’t your keys working?).

Things were a bit less blurry here. You can remember yourself repeatedly stabbing your keys into the door, and when that didn’t seem to work, deciding to hoist yourself over your fence, and get in through the back.

During this whole ordeal, you tripped over a seat on the patio, losing a shoe in doing so, and nearly fell into a pool, since when did my house have a pool? You ignored that thought, then opened the back door, getting in with no resistance.

You hobbled inside, closed the door behind you, then stumbled up the stairs, before finally finding your (?) bedroom. You flopped down in bed before realizing that you really needed to pee, and as you went to go find your bathroom, everything seemed to go black.

----

You woke up extremely disoriented in a vaguely familiar bathtub. It faintly smelled of pine, and possibly a hint of vanilla. The tub had a modern and sleek look, yet appeared to be as sterile as a hospital room. This was absolutely not your home. But it possibly belonged to someone you knew. The tiles lining the wall did seem to ring a bell somewhere deep in the foggy abyss of your hungover brain.

As you sat up, you groaned due to the consistent pulsing in your head. This had to be one of the worst hangovers you’d had in a while, and you were lucky that you didn’t lean over and empty the contents of your stomach right that instant.

“Stupid fucking Y/N,” you whispered to yourself. “You’re lucky all of your organs are still intact.” After stating this, you glanced down at your torso just to make sure. But a larger question still remained, where were you? Did you hook up with someone? Did you just randomly break into someone’s home? That’s a little ridiculous. Who would do something like that?

Apparently, drunk you would. In the process of exiting the tub, you concluded that you absolutely were in someone elses' gargantuan of a home, and that that person was undoubtedly down the hall, taking a phone call. Also, you were definitely missing a shoe.

You glared at yourself in the mirror, smeared makeup on your face, hair that looked so frizzy that you may as well have been struck by lightning, and of course the overwhelming scent of dry liquor that seemed to be seeping out of your skin. You turned on the sink and splashed your face, trying to completely wake up, and to partially figure out if this was real life, or just a horrible dream.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed out loud to yourself. How would you even get out of this situation alive? Perhaps you could find a window to jump out of. No, too dangerous. Hide in the bathroom until the man leaves? Well, everyone has to go to the bathroom at some point. Leave without being spotted? Mhm, very likely. Go talk to the homeowner? It doesn’t seem like you have any other option right now. You internally screamed at yourself for being so reckless, especially having gone through all of this drama for a guy who didn’t deserve one ounce of your attention.

You slipped off your remaining shoe, then slowly made your way out of the bathroom, peeking behind the doorway to see if the coast was clear, and trying to plan your explanation in the process. As you peered around, searching for the quickest and easiest exit, you realized just how familiar the home was. But what really did it for you was a painting on the wall.

This was Andy Barber’s home. The same man you hooked up with a few times before ghosting. You sighed exasperatedly at your own poor decision making for what felt like the millionth time that morning.

You had to get the hell out of here. Fast. Lost shoe be damned.

You somewhat remembered the floor plan, so managing to get out unnoticed began to seem just a tad bit more possible. You began to jog it down the hall, trying not to be too heavy footed as you went, in the event that Andy was standing in the eyeline of one of the open doors. Unfortunately for you, in the midst of your beeline down the hall, you were spotted.

“What the..? You know what Lynn, I’ll call you back in a bit.”

“I can explain! Don’t like… kill me or something. I promise you that this is just a big misunderstanding,” you were speaking without really processing anything that you were saying. You turned to face the man, and couldn’t help but to smirk a bit at the sight of him. You forgot just how attractive he was, with a full beard, fluffy hair, and soft blue eyes that seemed to be boring straight into your soul from across the room. Not to mention his sculpted body, which you swore you could make out beneath his sweatpants, and worn white shirt. Really, Y/N? First you ghost a man, break into his home a year later, and now you’re objectifying him?

You moved towards the door and began to speak again, your words flowing out at a million miles per minute, “Uhm, so long story short, I basically got really drunk last night, and I thought your house was mine, so I kinda broke in. But I’ll be seeing myself out now,” You gave a curt smile, and looked towards the stairs. “Before I go, any chance that you’ve seen my left shoe somewhere around here?”

It was clear that Andy was very confused, but as you read his face, you could see that he was far more intrigued than angry. “Hey, not so fast.” He approached you quickly, his eyebrows lifting in surprise, and his mouth gaping open slightly. “No fuckin’ way. Y/N?”

You scratched the back of your head awkwardly and nodded, “yeah.”

“You’re not getting off the hook that easily. Lucky for you, I was about to make breakfast, aaaand I’m not totally opposed to being joined,” he gave you a genuine smile, and a playful little shrug.

“That’s fine with me but- this sounds kinda strange- can I use your shower first?”

“Go right ahead. Mi casa su casa, right? I mean, kinda sounds like that’s what you were thinking last night,” Andy peered at you inquisitively at this, “I’m just kidding. Feel free to use anything you need.”

You couldn’t even blame Andy for his passive aggression, but that didn’t stop you from sulking the whole way back into the bathroom.

----

“I forgot how good your water pressure is,” you announced while coming down the stairs, clad in a college hoodie that you’d found in the depths of Andy’s closet, and shorts that were just a tad too large for you.

“Thanks, I guess?” Andy flipped a pancake, then turned to get a good look at you.

“You’re welcome. It smells so good down here,” you slipped into a barstool at his granite island, and observed him while he cooked, “so... you still live here alone?” You asked while you were passed a mug of coffee.

“Well, yeah. I mean that’s kind of what happens after your wife and son die.”

“Uhm.. sorry. For bringing that up again,” you glanced down awkwardly at your dark drink.

“It’s okay, they’ve been gone for a while,” he sat down at his seat, setting down a plate of food for you and himself. “What’ve you been up to? Apart from breaking and entering, of course.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” you began, cutting into a syrup-soaked pancake. “You’re no saint either. I can’t think of anyone in their right mind who would gladly break bread with someone who drunkenly broke into their home.”

“That’s fair,” Andy stated, almost dismissively. “But it's not like we’re total strangers. We have history.”

You scoffed at this, “like hell we do,” you muttered. “Anyway, things with me have been pretty boring. Same job. I had a boyfriend, but he just dumped me like, 12 hour ago. I’m pretty sure that he’s been cheating on me for like, the past four months.”

“That sucks,” Andy commented, shoveling a piece of pancake into his mouth.

“Yeah, it does. How about you?”

“You know, same old. Still an ADA, still getting messages from random people about that trial, and of course, still perpetually lonely.”

“By no means do I mean to impede, but maybe you’d be a little less lonely if you let people in,” you suggested, looking up from your food to Andy, whose face gave away the offense he was feeling, “I said maybe.”

“What do you mean?” He questioned, brows furrowing.

“Come on, Andrew. You know exactly what I mean. Like with us, I thought everything was going perfectly well, until I was half asleep and you were telling me that you weren’t ready to commit. Literally moments after you were balls-deep in me.”

“Don’t call me that, Y/N,” Andy squinted at you in agitation. “Is that why you stopped picking up my calls?”

“What do you think?”

He sighed softly, “If it’s any consolation, I’ve been trying to do better. I talk to a… counselor… every now and then. Everything’s just been different ever since they passed, you know? It’s hard to form connections after your most intimate ones disappear in the blink of an eye.”

You frowned a bit at the man, and set down your fork. “I get it. I’m sorry.”

“Do you, though? Get it?”

“Not really. I was just trying to be supportive,” you turned a bit in your seat to get a better view of Andy. “I just wonder if we had this conversation a year ago if you and I would be in a better position now. I really liked you a lot.”

Andy was silent for a moment, and observed you pensively. “Let’s try again, then. It seems like you and I both are ready for something new.”

“Oh Andy,” you rubbed the back of your neck anxiously. “I just got out of a relationship less than a day ago.”

“Then we can take this, whatever it might end up being, slow. It would be nice to have a friend around who doesn’t just want to talk about work, and tell me that they’re sorry for my loss.”

You nodded, “I’ll probably need a shoulder to cry on at some point sooner than later.”

“So... friends?”

“Friends,” you agreed with a smile and a lift of your shoulders.

Part of you hoped that maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something great.

#andy barber x reader #defending jacob #chris evans x reader #andy barber x you #hey i wrote that lol

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 3 years

Text

White Lies (Pt. 10 of 21)

Pairing: Keanu Reeves X Reader

Word count: 2.5 K

Summary: Keanu found the girl almost dead, in the wrecks of what was once her car. While she was in surgery, stuck in a coma, he gathered the best doctors of New York to attend to her. They told him she is likely to have some kind of brain damage, what may lead to memory loss. And this possibility added up wit the fact that she's pregnant, made the council come up with an odd idea. They asked Keanu to pretend to be her husband, since the stress of finding out everything that happened could put the baby in danger. He reluctantly agreed, but only if she does has some kind of memory loss. He still goes she'll wake up soon, with her memories intact.

But when you finally wake up, there's nothing inside. You're quick to find your head is empty, void, like a blank canvas. The only thing that brings you some relief, that makes you feel less lonely is the mention of a husband. And you can't wait to meet him, because you know you can't deal with this by yourself.

<- Previous part (09)

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{Keanu Reeves Masterlist}

{John Wick Masterlist}

Candle Lights

Keanu is driving back home after your third antenatal class. You enjoy them, but most of the things they say you already know. But it's not their fault you and Keanu do a lot of reading and research, and your doctors keep you updated. But you want to keep going.

“I'm thinking about a cesarian.” You tell Keanu, both hands cupping your bump.

“What?” He glances at you, and his face makes you giggle. “You have to be kidding me.”

“Why?” You ask, stretching your arm to touch the back of his neck.

“Because labor is something natural. Your body knows what to do.”

“Yeah, it just hurts like a bitch.” You snap back, playing with his hair.

“I know.” He sighs. “It's your call. You're the one delivering the baby.”

“I'm not sure yet. But we still have time.” You're currently in the middle of week 18. You feel more comfortable, and you have more energy now. The bump already shows depending on what you wear, but there's still a long way to go. “And we need to talk names, by the way.”

“I thought we decided on Clarissa or Henry.”

“Yeah, but we gotta be one hundred percent sure. Are you one hundred percent sure?”

“Now that you're talking about it, no.” Keanu giggles, a hand coming to lay on your thigh. “What were the other options?”

“Sophie, Nicole, Ethan, and Liam.” You recite them, looking at the landscape outside your window.

“They're all great. But... Liam. I like Liam. Or Sophie.” He takes a turn left, entering the condo.

“I like them too.” It's always like this. Whenever you bring this up, you just can't decide. “Maybe it'll get easier once we know the sex. Because we're clueless so far.”

“Do you want one of those parties where the sex is revealed?”

“No. It's not like I'd know the guests so...” Pushing this thought back before it starts bothering you, you sigh. “Let's just keep it between us. The rest of the world will find out eventually, but let it happen when it happens.”

“Alright.” As he slows down and stops to wait for the garage door to open, you see Mrs. Jackson walking to her front door. She spots you and waves. You immediately remember the amazing brownies she makes, and you suddenly need it.

“I'll go say hi.” You tell Keanu before leaning for a kiss and stepping out of the car.

Mrs. Jackson is a kind old lady who lives with her husband in the house on the left. When she sees you coming her way she stops, smiling. “Hello, (Y/N). Good morning.” Her long white hair is being blown by the wind, and she keeps it off her face with a hand.

“Good morning, Mrs. Jackson. How are you today?” Smiling, you hug her.

“You can call me Anne, child, it's alright.” She immediately touches your belly. “And how is this tiny little human? Are you eating well, honey? Exercising?” She raises an eyebrow, tilting her head at your house. “Is your husband taking good care of you?”

“Yes, yes, and yes.” Giggling, and blushing a little, you nod. “I have weekly appointments with my nutritionist, Keanu and I take a walk every morning around the neighborhood and he's being absolutely amazing.” You say with a sigh, your heart beating a little faster just at the mention of him.

“Are you falling for him?” With both hands on her hip, Mrs. Jackson inquires, a funny expression on her face. She knows about the accident since she has become a friend of yours.

“I am.” You mutter, biting your lip.

“That's true, genuine love, sweetie. Even after forgetting him, you're falling for him all over again.” She has a teasing look on her face that makes you blush even more.

“Yeah, I guess you can say that. In the beginning, I really thought we'd end up divorced.”

“Honey, you don't know the way Keanu looks at you.” She shakes her head no, taking your arms and pulling you to a seat on the steps that lead to her porch. “When you came for dinner earlier this week, I could see it clearly. He looks at you like you're his whole world.” Running a hand through your hair, you look down. “That man loves you with all his heart, I have no doubt.” She puts an arm around your shoulders.

“Yeah...” You mutter, a low chuckle leaving your lips. “Oh, sorry for yesterday's noise. We're changing a few things in the house for the baby and also working on the decoration. Since we just moved and everything is happening at the same time...”

Anne furrows her eyebrows a little, tilting her head to the side. “Honey, Keanu has been living here for a little more than a year before you came. It was a surprise to me as it was for everyone to find he was married.”

Mimicking her expression, you start thinking, counting. Keanu said you came here only a few weeks before the accident. “Well... We were keeping it a secret. He's a public figure so the goal was to keep the marriage private for as long as we could. But the accident happened.” The words come out slow, as you try to understand what she means by that. A year... It can't be.

“I don't blame you for doing that.” Squeezing your shoulders a little, she smiles. “People can be very intrusive with celebrities.”

“Keanu's fans are great. We bumped into some on our way to the Walmart a while ago. And Ke was kind, as always.”

“That man is a rarity.”

“He is.” Smiling, you look at her, remembering about your current craving. “Oh, do you think you can make some of those chocolate brownies?” You ask, pouting a little. “I hate to give you trouble but I really want them.”

“Don't worry, child.” Anne giggles, taking your hand in hers. “I'm retired for way too many years and I enjoy having something to do.”

“Thank you!” Pulling her into a hug, you place a kiss on her cheek. “I gotta go now.” Pushing yourself up, you jump to the sidewalk. “Important talking about this little one's name.”

“Won't you tell me the options?”

“Nope!” Winking at her, you start walking backward. “It's going to be a surprise.” With another wave, you turn around and head home.

Keanu is in the kitchen, starting with the preparations for dinner. Homemade pizza night, and he's just starting to make the dough. Moving to seat on the kitchen island, you're just about to ask how you can help when what Anne said comes back. That was certainly weird, but you don't think Keanu would lie to you like that. “Ke...” You make a small pause when he looks at you over his shoulder. “Mrs. Jackson said you were living here for like a year. But you told me we came to New York a few weeks before the accident.”

He stops, both his hands dirty with flour. There's something in his face you can't read, as Keanu avoids looking at you. “We bought the house about a year ago. I used to come and spend a day or two because of work, but we only actually moved when you found a good job here.” He speaks slow, only lifting his eyes when he's done speaking. You work with social services, and he said that your job is secure for when you're able to go back.

“Got it.” You mutter, furrowing your eyebrows a little. “Are you alright?” Getting up, you walk over him. Once you're close, he has no choice but stares into your eyes. Wrapping your arms around his midsection, you tiptoe to kiss him.

“I'm great.” When you step away, Keanu touches your nose in a quick motion, getting it dirt with flour.

“I can't believe you did that.” You giggle, stretching your arm to shove your fingers inside the bowl before showing them to your husband. “If you don't apologize, sir, I'll paint all this pretty face of yours.”

“Is it a threat?” Keanu inquires, raising an eyebrow.

“It's a promise.”

“Alright then.” He chuckles before cupping your face with both hands, getting your cheeks and jaw covered in flour.

“You're playing with fire!” You shout, running your fingers through your face before reaching for the bowl and taking a handful of flour that you succeed to half throw it at him, with half of it falling on the sink. He holds your dirty hand, some parts of his hair all white. “You're messing with the wrong pregnant lady, babe.”

“I surrender.” He says in between giggles, hands raised. “I'm completely at your mercy.”

Squinting your eyes at him, you only grunt before washing your hands. “Let me help you.” You say as you grab the dishcloth, damping it before starting to clean Keanu's face.

“No. Let me do this for you. Just sit there looking beautiful.” Once you're done with his face, you clean yourself the best you can.

“Only if I get to see you around the kitchen looking handsome.” Sassing back, you leave the dishcloth on the sink and head back to your place at the kitchen island. You love helping him, but you decided to let him do his thing this time.

By nightfall, the pizzas are in the oven. All three of them, despite knowing you won't eat that much. But one is for Mr. and Mrs. Jackson, and the other two will probably cover up all meals for a while. That if Keanu doesn't bug you with eating super healthy on every single meal. The brownies arrive too, and you thank Anne a lot as you bite one of them.

The only thing to ruin the night, well, that got close to, was that the sudden violent wind caused a blackout. You were eating at the kitchen table when it happened, and Keanu left to check if there was anything he could do. There isn't, but he did find some candles and the pizza night became a lot more romantic instantly.

Right now, already satisfied after two slices only, you admire his face in the different lighting, his hand holding yours over the table.

“We should go out. Like a date.” He suggests, and it makes your smile grow wider. “If that's alright with you.”

“Of course it is. We're married.” Shrugging your shoulders, you notice the subtle change on his face. You never get it, it's a mystery. “Ke, what's wrong?” It's not the first time it happens, but even though you're getting to know him, learning to read his expressions, this one is still difficult.

“Nothing, beautiful. It's nothing.” He assures you in a low voice. “Do you wanna head upstairs? A shower lit by candles must be quite an adventure.”

He always does that. He says it's nothing and changes the subject... But you guess it's alright. Maybe Keanu remembers the accident. The wife he lost that day. Or maybe something you shared before that's completely gone for you. “Great.”

“You can go first. I'll clean this up.”

“Leave the dishes to me. I can do them tomorrow.” You say as you walk past him, a hand on his shoulder. “You already made dinner for us.”

“Alright.” He agrees and you smile before going upstairs.

Showering with nothing but candles to light up the bathroom is weird, and you almost slipped. And that you'll never tell Keanu or else who knows what he'll do. But it was different. Once you're done, you leave the bathroom loosening the bun you had your hair in, letting it down. “Your turn with the medieval style shower.”

“I didn't know they had bathrooms like this back then.” Keanu snaps at you, smirking.

“You couldn't just go with it, could you?” Rolling your eyes, you walk over the slide glass door that leads to the balcony, just to watch as the wind still rushes through.

“Absolutely not.” It's the last thing you hear before the door closes.

With your eyes on the street down there, you hope this wind won't bring anyone trouble by tomorrow. At least the news said the weather will get better in a couple of days.

After some minutes watching the threes bending under the weight of the wind, you walk back to the bed, sitting on the edge. This place is feeling more like home as the days go by, and you're falling back into the life you once had. And it's good. Despite all the medicine you still take, the endless appointments, and a very, very overprotective husband, everything is good. More than that, actually. It does bring you relief to know you were this happy before. That you weren't alone, that you somehow managed to find someone so amazing. You know it was probably difficult in the beginning, with him being a public figure, and so many years older, but look where you are now. It was worth it. It ended up in the best way possible. And you couldn't ask for anything else.

“Lost in thoughts?” His voice startles you, as he comes from the bathroom.

“A little.” Getting on your knees on the bed, you cross it until you're face to face with him. Well, he's still taller, but you don't mind. You like it a lot, actually. Smiling you wrap your arms around his neck. “But they were good thoughts.”

“That's good to know.” He whispers, and you can't resist the proximity, so you just kiss him.

It was supposed to be just a quick thing, soft and sweet, but it soon becomes too needy. You shouldn't be this needy, and you don't know where it comes from. But it doesn't take much until you're awkwardly wrapping your legs around his waist, but the sudden change of balance makes you fall back on the bed, giggling through the kiss. But you don't mind. You don't want this to stop.

But you sigh when Keanu pulls away, opening your eyes to look at him, his eyes barely lit by the two candles, one on each nightstand. “What?” You ask, your voice a little weak, you're not sure why.

“If we keep this going...” His voice fades, and you feel when he removes some of his weight from you. He wasn't crushing you, but you were feeling all of his body. “...I don't think we'll be interrupted this time.”

You get what he means. There won't be calls this time, nothing too put a stop to whatever is going to happen. But you don't care. He's your husband, and you're falling for him. You want this. “I don't want it to be interrupted, Ke.” You tell him, thanking the darkness because you're sure you never blushed this much.

“Are you sure you want this?” A thunder almost clouds his voice, but you manage to hear it.

It's kind that he still wants to know how you feel. Keanu doesn't push you, he never has. It suddenly snaps that you love him, that this is right. “I'm sure.” You whisper back, eyes closing again when Keanu leans in for another kiss.

@multific @inumorph @aestheticallywinchester @bvbwestfall @liviiii98 @allie1804-fan @gian-giannina @playboygeniusphilanthropist @partypoison00 @mariafetamina @fortheloveoffanfic @trin303

#keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves fanfiction #keanu reeves fanfic #imagine keanu reeves #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x you #john wick imagine #john wick fanfiction #john wick #john wick x reader

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brutal-nemesis · 3 years

Text

Saltwater Day 2021: Dinner Date with an Eel 💕

Feel that ocean breeze, baby! Cries in lives in a very landlocked area I hope y’all are having some fun in the salty spray ✨Today we finally get to see a Castys misadventure that I’ve talked about in the tags before: the big boy drowning incident! So sit back, relax, and enjoy the agony <3

Castys Masterlist

Ingredients: drowning, animal attack, self harm to escape danger, sort of self amputation, gore, broken bones, suicide for convenience (immortal)

Castys had jumped off of higher cliffs before. Granted, he had done it because he was too lazy to walk to the bottom, and he’d landed on solid rock, and it had been very painful for all of two seconds, so this didn’t make him any less terrified of being shoved off of this one. And yes, that’s right, he was going to be shoved off of this one, into the crashing waves below, which was certainly how he’d planned on spending the morning. Nothing better to start the day than a pointless execution!

Oh, but why are you being executed, Castys, you’re so good and noble and also immortal so this isn’t going to work is it. No, no it’s not going to work. And Castys was being “executed” because, well...turns out people don’t take too kindly to finding out you’re the dreaded Pirate King Ragnarok. As usual, he’d fought and tried to get away, and as usual he’d failed miserably. So here he was, wrists chained together behind his back, ankles chained to a stupidly large rock, and a cloth tied tightly around his mouth.

He tried not to think about having to deal with this arrangement once he was underwater, which was something he was less than excited for. There was already quite a large crowd gathered so, hey, at least he was popular. Actually, scratch that, based on the looks he was getting, he was definitely unpopular. He shifted a bit, causing the men gripping his arms to tighten their grasp. He huffed, wishing he had the ability to tell them to chill the fuck out.

“People of Meruna, we are gathered her today for the execution of the notorious-“ oh my FUCK nevermind just push him off already this whole thing was already bad enough without a speech about all his crimes and whatever. Not that he didn’t love hearing about his exploits, because fuck if he regretted any of it, but the sun was hot and he was tired of standing. That water was going to feel so good...until it was filling his lungs ugh nope don’t think about it like that he was just going for a nice swim that’s all. He was going to be in the nice, cool water without any of these assholes glaring at him, and he’d get out of these chains somehow and come back in ten years and release all their goats and that would show them.

All of a sudden, the hands on him started to push him towards the edge of the cliff, a third guard rolling the rock he was chained to along using her foot. Fuck, fuck the speech was over they were doing it he was going over the edge he’d just been joking earlier he really didn’t want to even if the water would feel good he’d rather stand out here all day because that sure as hell was better than drowning over and over and over the edge the air was rushing by the top of the cliff was getting farther and farther away any second now he-

Castys screamed into the gag as he slammed into the cold water, wasting his last breath of air like an idiot before he started to sink beneath the crashing waves, pulled down by the boulder attached to his ankles. He could only squirm uselessly as he sank deeper and deeper, the soaked-through gag filling his mouth with the taste of saltwater, just to make things even more unpleasant. His arms were killing him, and, you know what, they took the brunt of the impact with the water, so they were probably fucking broken, weren’t they? At least they would heal after...after he drowned for the first time. Already his lungs were starting to burn, but thankfully the rock had finally hit the bottom, so he wouldn’t sink any further and therefore the painful pressure on his ears wasn’t going to get any worse, at the very least.

Positives, positives, since he was probably going to be here for a while...it wasn’t so stupidly hot anymore, instead it was stupidly cold, and already his fingers were starting to go numb-nope, nope, not a positive, let’s try again. It was rather pretty down here, despite the fact that black spots were starting to cloud his vision, and also things were starting to get kinda...woozy, a little bit, a little, hell-o and goodbye, wasn’t it time now? Yeah, yes, the burning was too much it hurt hurt hurt everything was black and black was good bec-

He didn’t bother counting how many times he drowned. Maybe it would have helped pass the time or something, but, let’s be real, there were better things to focus on than how many times he’d experienced the horrible burning in his lungs and that awful lightheadedness. His broken arms had healed up, so that was something, but they were still very much shackled behind his back. If they were free he could at least get that stupid gag out of his mouth and try to fuck with the chain connecting his ankles to that dumb rock. He settled for looking around the underwater landscape surrounding him, glad that sunset was still a ways off. As far as he could tell.

When he could see and think clearly, it was kind of cool to be down here, circumstances aside. All sorts of fish, many of them varieties that he knew what they tasted like, swam around between the wavy water plants. There was even a really big lookin’ boy off in the distance that he’d seen out of the corner of his eye a few times, though it was coming closer now, and he was just starting to be able to make out...wait-was that a-great. Absolutely fantastic, just what he needed. A fucking shreilian eel. How dare he drown over and over in peace, no, no let’s add a vicious man-eating monster to the mix! At least he wasn’t bleeding, so the creature wouldn’t be immediately drawn to him. He’d get to keep his limbs intact for a little longer-wait wait wait. Okay that was absolutely crazy and sounds entirely unfun, but...it might just work.

Castys mustered as much strength as he could, ignoring the ever-present burning of his lungs, and began to clumsily bash himself against the nearby wall of stone. It was coated in barnacles and the like, but their sharp edges were just what he was looking for. Soon enough, he felt the awful sting of saltwater in the many small cuts that were now littering his arm. Fuck, that was nowhere near enough blood to get that eel over here, and his vision was starting to go dark. If he didn’t get that damn thing over here now he’d die and heal and have to do this bullshit all over again no no no get over here you stupid thing fuck yeah that feels like a nice gash it burns to high hell but so does everything and look at all that bloody water or maybe it’s just getting too dark because it is dark and...so...hurt…

When he came back to life, there was a small cloud of blood swirling in the water around him, but it was dissipating more and more by the second. He couldn’t see the eel anywhere, and if that bastard disappeared on him after all that...Instinctively, he tried to take a deep breath and ended up sucking a bunch of water up his nose like an absolute idiot, his nostrils now burning just as much as his even more waterlogged lungs. His body tried to cough, but it was just painful and useless like everything else he’d done while stuck down here, and he just ended up thrashing around like an injured fish.

Just what the eel had been waiting for.

It felt like he’d suddenly been hit by a mace, slamming him into the rocks, his arm lighting up with the pain of a thousand hot spikes, almost too intense for him to even process, the salty water magnifying every little agony tenfold. Castys was certain he would have been screaming if he had the air, and as much as this was absolutely fucking terrible, he hoped the eel would do it again. It had bitten off a good chunk of his arm as far as he could tell, but not enough to completely sever it and free him from the restraints. And for once, his horrid luck regarding avoiding pain paid off. The eel rammed into him again, ripping off more of his arm with its razor-sharp teeth and causing the bones of his forearm to crack.

Sensing his chance, Castys grabbed the manacled wrist of his shredded arm with his good hand, bit down on the gag, and pulled. He couldn’t give up, couldn’t stop, not after enduring this much, he could feel his flesh tearing, sending out sparks of agony unlike anything he’d ever known, and he had to keep pulling, pulling and jerking and tearing and twisting and praying, praying that he could rip it off before he drowned again, which, hey, kind of a weird thing to want, not that he hadn’t had to amputate his own limbs before, but weird that it was happening again, and honestly, this hurt way more than the other times, but wasn’t that always the case-and fuck there was no way he was going to be able to just snap his bones like this, and he needed it to be completely severed, and there was no time, wedge it against the rocks and pull pull pull until there was a snap and a burst of unholy agony, so intense it almost smothered the relief, so fierce it made him forget he was drowning up until the moment his oxygen-starved brain lost consciousness.

Castys’s arms were free. Well, one was free, and the other one was still manacled, attached to...what was left over after all that. He ripped the gag out of his mouth, resisting the urge to suck in mouthfuls of air that were absolutely not there. Looking down at his ankles, he wasn’t sure if-his body exploded with pain as the eel rammed into him again, taking a chunk of flesh from his side, which was definitely not where he wanted to be bitten. Gritting his teeth against the anguish that almost consumed him, he grabbed the wrist of his severed arm and clumsily smeared blood around his ankles, hoping it would entice the monster to attack them and help set him free.

It worked, and it didn’t. The eel attacked him again and again, no longer pausing in between bites to circle him. Castys wasn’t even sure where it was biting him anymore, he just knew that everything hurt, the saltwater in his wounds magnifying the pain so much that there was no discernible source. He didn’t try to fight the eel off, hoping it would just do enough damage to his legs that he could get free, but he wasn’t sure if he could have even tried to get it away from him if he wanted to. Things were getting so dizzy so fast, all of a sudden, there was nothing to do but wait and die and hurt…

When he came back to life, Castys was disappointed to find that he was not floating to the surface. In fact, one of his ankles felt kind of weird, like it wasn’t shackled anymore, but still...for fuck’s sake. One of his ankles had been freed, torn enough to shreds before he’d died that the manacle had come off, but the other one was...well the manacle wasn’t around his ankle so much as it was…in his ankle. How the fuck that had happened, he had no clue. He just knew he had to deal with it. Looking around, the eel wasn’t anywhere to be seen, probably full to bursting after its meal, and though his heart sank a little at the thought that he couldn’t rely on it anymore, he was also slightly relieved, because that thing had been vicious. It had, however, left a parting gift. He swam downwards and grabbed the smooth fang off of the sandy ocean bottom, gripping it tightly. Just a little bit more.

He had endured so much already, felt pain more intense, experienced sensations more gruesome, but this...this was more active than everything else that had happened down here. More visible. He had to make every stab and slice deliberately, had to watch the tooth do its damage, it wasn’t mindless bashing or praying he’d get bitten in the right places, but an active choice to cut his flesh away, inviting burning seawater into a wound once again, and it was difficult. Part of him wanted to stop, take a break, please, I don’t want to have to do this anymore, I want to let go, just for a little bit, please, but he knew he couldn’t, because he had to get this done before he drowned again or he’d have to start the whole damn thing over.

Relief like he’d never known washed over him as he finally managed to worm the manacle out of his shredded ankle and he felt himself start to rise. The lightheadedness was getting worse, and he wasn’t sure if he’d make it in time, so he wormed his finger into the pouch around his neck and let the death stone’s magic take him before the lack of air could. He was still rising when he came back to, and he propelled himself towards the surface with renewed strength, despite the pain of his ears popping and the odd ache in his joints.

Finally, blessedly, he made it to the surface, and air had never tasted so fucking good. Not that it wasn’t salty, but it wasn’t as salty as saltwater, and he sucked as much of it as he could into his waterlogged lungs. He looked up at the cliff towering over him, now painted with the orange of sunset instead of the gold of sunrise. He...he had been down there all day just...downing. And getting eaten. Kinda fucked. Seeing a nearby rock, he swam over to it and scampered on top, collapsing on its damp surface as he coughed up far too much fucking seawater. Fuck, his head was spinning and his joints hurt, like they probably would have if he could grow old. Well, nothing that one last death can’t fix, now that he was finally on land again.

Castys opened his eyes and sat up, feeling perfectly fine besides the awful, salty taste in his mouth. He looked over at the cliff smugly. Those bastards had tried to get rid of him for good, and they’d failed miserably. He folded down his middle fingers and placed his thumbs over them, a rude gesture in this part of the world. Seeing the remnant of his arm dangling from the manacle still attached to his left wrist, he had a devilishly gruesome idea.

The next morning, the whole town was awoken by the screams of a young couple who had gone out for a stroll.

Right there, in the middle of the town square, was part of a crudely severed arm, its fingers frozen in an obscene gesture, its skin slimy and already starting to slip off. A manacle was clamped around its wrist, attached by a short chain to the other one, which had been broken open.

The execution had failed, and that heinous pirate had escaped.

Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump @blackrosesandwhump @fanmanga1357-blog @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @hearse-song @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101 @yet-another-heathen @galaxywhump @starnight-whump @his-unspoken-words

#i wrote something #castys #animal attack cw #drowning cw #self amputation #self harm to escape danger #suicide for convenience #gore #hooray yall finally get his big drowning incident #sorry that it's not super drowning focused i still am not a drowning fan #it's not gory and the application of the pain is more indirect so thats why im indifferent to it #actually writing this has made me realize both how fucking batshit castys is and also that he's really determined #i was always aware that getting a sea monster to bite off his limbs so he could get out of the chains was nuts but like damn. it's very nuts #and when he was ripping off his arm like holy shit dude #you might be a rat bastard but you don't give up. stubborn stubborn man #he's like a fucking weed #castys calls kelp a plant but it's not a plant he does not have access to our biological classification scheme #that's his excuse but i will not support the spread of misinformation #yes the eel is based off the shrieking eels from princess bride #aka one of the greatest movies of all time #i dont accept criticism on this #i didnt want to use a real animal because then i would have to research behavior and shit #and i dont want people showing up like ''ACTUALLY that shark doesn't behave that way uwu''#im just very lazy and i want to bitey monster to do what i want it to do without spening hours reading behavorial articles #not that this didnt make me look at eel life cycles because EEL LARVA ARE SO FUNNY LOOKING LOOK THEM UP #THEYRE JUST BIG FLAT GLASS WIGGLES THAT GO :v #that said i did try to base the eel off of shark hunting behaviors i vaguely remember from shark week #he gets decompression sickness a bit there at the end that's why his joints hurt #saltwater day #saltwater day 2021

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lokis-army-77 · 3 years

Text

If You Please

Chapter Fourteen

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4440

This is technically a reader insert but without the (y/n) and all that. She also has no name mentioned so feel free to imagine as you please.

Follow the reader through the events of the Captain America movies and experience her love for Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: canon typical violence

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Masterlist

We escaped quickly and descended down into the dark, damp sewer system of D.C. until we came to a steel ladder directly in the middle of our path several minutes later. Maria climbed up first, to make sure the coast was clear then she signaled for us to follow. There was an SUV waiting for us a few paces away from where we had emerged. I slowly trailed behind the others and into one of the back seats. The drive to the base, which seemed to be a rundown dam in the middle of the woods, took us almost half an hour.

After getting out the van we rushed in through a singular gated door at the base of the dam. Nat was still losing blood but the first aid kit in the van helped slow it down. As we walked down the dimly lit hall I spotted a man running towards us.

“GSW,” Maria shouted out to the man. “She’s lost almost a pint of blood.”

“Let me take her,” the man shouted back, still jogging to us.

“She’ll want to see him first,” she said before we reached a set of double doors and hurried through them. Maria led us down a long corridor which opened up to a large room with a section closed off with plastic strip curtains. She reached out and pulled part of the curtain back to let us see inside. There lying down in a hospital bed was Nick Fury, who was supposed to be dead.

“Well, it’s about damn time.” Fury stated in a sarcastic tone. I looked to Steve, Who was holding Nat up, and gave him a quizzical look, which he returned with his own shake of the head.

After the initial shock of seeing Fury alive, Nat was sat down by the doctor who was trying to stop her arm from bleeding. In the meanwhile, Fury was explaining to the group how he was able to fake his death and why he was hunkering out in a dam. This plan also helped him to know which people he could have some trust in, seeing as how SHIELD was now compromised and there was no telling how far the clutches of HYDRA had gotten. Now that people thought he was dead, it would come as a surprise when he inevitably resurfaced.

When Nat’s stitches were done we headed to a table on the other side of the room which had several files and computers scattered about. I took a seat on the far end and put my head in my hands. I could feel a massive headache coming on, which was uncommon for me since I took the serum. It felt like white-hot knives were digging through the back of my skull and into the spot right between my eyes. It was so bad that I completely missed the whole conversation the group was having. I eventually laid my head down in my crossed arms to try and combat it, but the pain never subsided.

A hand came down on my shoulder, startling me out of my painful daze, it was Steve. I saw his mouth move but couldn’t hear anything but the loud ringing in my ears. I just looked at him confused. He tried saying something again but I still couldn't hear him.

“Stevie, I can’t hear anything over this loud ringing in my ears,” I whispered, I knew if I talked loudly the vibrations of my voice would hurt. He gave me a nod and held up his finger, telling me to wait as he walked away. The doctor from before came back with him and sat in front of me. The doctor motioned his hand like it was talking and I knew he wanted me to tell him what was going on, so I did. When I was done, he took a small flashlight out from his pocket and shined it in my eyes. He turned to Steve and said something then turned to me and grabbed hold of my hand.

Both the doctor and Steve led me to a second hospital bed, which was a couple feet away from where Fury had been and made me lay down. As I got situated under the covers, Steve tapped my hand a few times to get my attention and when he got it, he started to tap again. Morse code, he had made me learn it as kids, that way mom could never hear our secret conversations, it even came in handy when I joined the SSR. I watched closely as he tapped out a series of long and short patterns. He was telling me the doctor was going to give me something to help me sleep and that I would be okay. I nodded and tapped back a thank you before the Doctor came back and inserted a syringe into my arm, seconds later I could feel myself drifting away.

I woke up hours later without the searing pain of a headache and my hearing fully intact. I flipped the covers away from myself and turned to let my legs drape off the side of the bed. I hulled myself onto my feet and began to make my way to the table the group was setting at yesterday. Sam was there drinking coffee and talking to Nat, and from what I could tell, it must have been early morning.

“Good morning sleepy head.” Sam sang out. I gave him a small smile as I took the seat to his right, across from Nat. “How ya feeling?”

“Eh. I’m not in physical pain anymore if that’s what you’re asking.” I looked down at my hands and eyed the ring I had been wearing since a few days ago. It glimmered in the light as I took it off and placed it on the table. I then took my locket necklace off and slipped the ring onto the chain. I was lucky I hadn't lost it yesterday, but I wasn’t thinking I would be going into a fight. Now that I knew more fighting was to come, it would be safer around my neck.

“Is that your engagement ring?” Sam asked quietly.

“Yeah. It was Bucky’s mother, Winnifred. He originally proposed with this locket, but a few months later, after talking to her and begging her to keep it a secret from Steve, she finally gave it to him.” I smiled at the memory.

“Wait, I thought Steve knew.”

“He does now. I kind of blurted it out when he tried to stop me from going with him to rescue the 107th from the HYDRA base in 1943, but we got engaged in ‘41.” I took a long pause before talking again. “You know it feels like just yesterday when I lost him, like the pain from him being gone still hurts, but I’ve learned to cope with it over the past two years. Now I have to find out that he is alive, but not himself because he's being used as a mercenary by HYDRA. He looked at me after you knocked him down and that look broke my heart. It wasn’t the look of a man wanting to kill, it was of someone who was scared, someone who had no clue what was going on. He’s still in there, I know he is and I’m going to be the one to bring him back.” I jammed a finger down on the table to make my point.

“Are you sure he’s really still in there? He’s been in and out of cryo hundreds of times throughout the last 70 years, no to mention, he’s probably endured countless hours of brain wiping and torture from HYDRA.” Nat said in a concerned but doubtful tone.

“I didn’t lose hope when he might have been dead in the forties, I won't lose hope in him now. I’ll find a way to bring him back to me.” That was when Steve came through the double doors and into the room wearing his old suit. “Steve, where in the world did you get that?”

“I borrowed it from the Smithsonian. Here, I found your office. Thought you might want it.” He tossed a bag at me and I caught it, slowly opening it to reveal my old suit. “I still have no clue why you keep it in there and not on display with everything else.”

“Thanks, that was very thoughtful of you.”

“Don’t be sarcastic. You’re gonna want it when we go to take out the helicarriers.” He looked at me then to the other two, “Come on suit up, we don't have much time before they launch,” he looked back at me, “I’ll fill you in on the plan after you get dressed. Oh and Maria has your staff, and new guns for you.”

It was almost noon now and Steve, Sam, Maria, and I were quickly ascending the back stairs of the SHIELD base. We made it to the thirty-second floor in no time, only for the door to be locked. We all held our guns up to the door as Maria sent out some radio interference so one of the people in the room would come to check on the dish that was outside. When the door opened the man was surprised and instantly let us through

Steve came to a stop at the PA system and turned it on. “Attention all SHIELD agents, this is Steve Rogers. You've heard a lot about me over the last few days. Some of you were even ordered to hunt me down. But I think it's time, to tell the truth. SHIELD is not what we thought it was. It's been taken over by HYDRA. Alexander Pierce is their leader. The STRIKE and Insight crew are HYDRA as well. I don't know how many more, but I know they're in the building. They could be standing right next to you. They almost have what they want. Absolute control. They shot Nick Fury. And it won't end there. If you launch those helicarriers today, HYDRA will be able to kill anyone that stands in their way. Unless we stop them. I know I'm asking a lot. But the price of freedom is high. It always has been. And it's a price I'm willing to pay. And if I'm the only one, then so be it. But I'm willing to bet I'm not.”

“Always been one for speech haven't you Stevie?” I joked.

“Shut up kid, let's get going.” he shook his head, bemused.

“He totally came up with that on the spot didn’t he?” Sam asked.

“Definitely,” I replied.

We left Maria in the PA room where she would be able to monitor the status of the helicarriers as we tried to take them offline. Making our way down to the docking bay I looked out one of the windows next to where we were running.

“Steve, we need to hurry, the bay doors are opening,” I called out.

“Only a few more floors, we can make it.” After he said that, we started running faster, almost leaving Sam behind.

Finally, we pushed through one of the lower roof doors. I started to sprint toward the edge and before I jumped off, Sam grabbed my outstretched arm and started to fly. He maneuvered us to the far-right helicarrier and then let go of me. I plummeted to the deck and as I made contact with the ground I immediately threw myself into a tumble so I didn’t get hurt. As I sprang to my feet I was met with an onslaught of bullets. Ducking to dodge them I ran off to the side where a stack of crates was lying. I fished one of the guns from the hustler and cocked a bullet into the chamber. Taking a deep breath I stepped out from my cover and shot back at the men.

Two of the seven went down as a bullet went through each of their chests. I went to shoot again but a hand came out from behind me and yanked my right arm down. They tightly brought my arm to my back and grabbed my gun with the other hand. With my free left arm, I swung it back and clipped the person in the chin hard with my elbow. The grip they had on my right arm fell away as they fell to the ground. I turned around and quickly grabbed my gun from his hand and resumed shooting at the others.

I reached to the back of my holster where I had clipped two grenades before we had left the hideout. Pulling the pin and letting go of the trigger, I threw it at the men, who were immediately taken out with the blast.

“Hey kid you good?” I heard Steve's voice come through the comlink.

“Good as I can be. The deck is all clear, where are you?”

“Sam and I are inbound.” as he said that Sam shot up from below the carrier with Steve holding onto his hands. They landed a few feet in front of me and I jogged to catch up to them. “Wow, you took them all out really fast.”

I just smiled and held up the second grenade, “Work smarter not harder. Come on let's hurry up, the fact there weren't that many people on here is making me suspicious.” As soon as I said that we walked past one of the crates and Steve was pushed over the edge of the carrier by Bucky. “Steve!” Sam and I yelled simultaneously.

Sam jumped into action, trying to take off to save Steve from falling to his death, but Bucky grabbed one of the wings of his suit and flung him back. “Go put the chip in, I'll take care of this.” He yelled out to me.

I turned and sprinted to one of the doors that led into the carrier and I was met with two corridors. After looking down at each of them I decided on taking the right one. Reaching the end I heard a soft noise around the corner, I peaked around slowly and saw a man carrying an assault rifle. He was close enough for me to run up on him without him being able to get a good shot in with a gun. So that’s what I did. I ran at an angle from the corner and used my left leg to push myself off the ground and then my right to push off the wall and kick the man directly in the side of the head. He fell to the ground, completely unconscious. Not turning back I continued down the hall until I came to the stairs that would take me down to the systems room.

“Are you both okay?” Sam cut through on the coms.

“Yeah, I'm still on the helicarrier.” came Steve.

“Me too, I’m almost in the systems room. Where are you?”

“I'm grounded, the wings are busted.”

I exited the staircase and walked to the middle of the systems room. The opening to the targeting system was on the other side of the large cylindrical computer that took up the whole center of the room. I made my way around but stopped short when I saw him standing there, glaring.

“Bucky,” I held my hands up and took my finger off the trigger of my gun to show him I wasn’t going to do anything. “Bucky, I know you’re in there somewhere.” He just kept staring blankly. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will in order to get this chip where it needs to be.” I took a slow step in his direction, but in an instant, he pulled his gun and shot mine out of my hand, and started to stalk towards me. I reached over my shoulders to grab the two separated staff pieces from their holsters as I moved backward. Bucky stopped walking and just started some more before he came at me full force. I quickly stepped up onto the railing and did a flip over him, landing behind him. Before he turned around I slipped the piece of the staff in my right hand around his neck and latched on with my left, forcing him to stumble back. This didn’t hold him long because he grabbed the bar and forcefully twisted it over his head, thus breaking my grip. I stumbled a few feet ahead, almost barely missing the punch that he threw. That was when I noticed Steve had made it into the room.

“Steve, a little help here would be great,” I said as I started to run back to Bucky who had turned around to face Steve. I jumped up doing a backflip kick, using Bucky’s back as a kicking-off point and landed back on my feet as Bucky slammed into the railing. Hoping he would stay preoccupied with Steve, I hurriedly ran to the system console and opened the chip holder. I took out one of the chips and placed it off to the side before reaching into my pocket for the new chip. I had almost put it in the open slot before I was knocked off my feet and the chip flew from my hand and over the banister. I turned over off of my stomach just in time to see Steve and Bucky also fall over the banister. I scrambled to the edge to see what was going on as I called out, “Steve the chip fell over.”

“I got it, stay there.” He yelled back before Bucky sent him flying. I watched as he grabbed the chip but it was dropped further down as Bucky came at Steve again. I took my second gun out and started to shoot near Bucky’s legs, in order to try and veer him off course without hurting him. Steve reached the glass bottom of the room and started sprinting to the chip which was nestled in between the glass and a metal beam. I stopped shooting as it became harder to get a clear target without also shooting Steve.

They were fighting now, hand to hand, Bucky had knocked Steve’s shield away and he pulled his knife out in the process. He stabbed Steve in the shoulder, when he fell to the ground Bucky dove for the chip. Steve wasn't far behind him, He latched onto Bucky, choking him then throwing him to the ground.

“Steve, don't hurt him,” I cried out as I watched them struggle on the ground, my hands went straight to my mouth as I heard the loud sound of bone breaking and Bucky’s scream right after. He tried rolling over but that gave Steve an opening to put him in a chokehold. “Steve stop, that's enough, you’re hurting him,” I yelled out in despair as I watched bucky struggle to stay conscious, I couldn't watch it anymore, I turned away. Seconds later Steve yelled my name. I hesitantly looked back over the railing, Bucky was lying unconscious and Steve was jumping up onto the landing under me.

“Here”, he tossed the chip up to me and I caught it. Suddenly a gunshot rang out and I looked to where Bucky was once laying, he was standing now, gun raised.

“Thirty seconds” Maria’s voice came over the com.

“I've got it,” I spoke back, making my way to the control board.

Another shot rang out, this time I heard the impact right behind me before a pain erupted on my side. I turned to see Steve laid out on the ground clutching his stomach, the bullet must have gone straight through him to me.

“Guys, they're going online right now, hurry!” Maria almost yelled into the com. I turned back around, holding my side and took the last few steps up to the console, and securely placed the chip in the open space.

“Charlie lock,” I huffed out, confirming to Maria that I had successfully put the chip in, as I slid to my knees.

“Okay, both of you get out of there.”

“No fire now,” Steve yelled.

“But Steve,” Maria said almost reluctantly.

“Just do it,” he yelled again.

The helicarrier jerked seconds later after being hit with the rockets. I slammed into the railing and was flung over, landing ungracefully in a heap on the glass floor. I could hear shouts of pain echoing, looking around I spotted Bucky stuck under a massive metal beam. Steve apparently had to because he was climbing down to him. He got to him quickly and started to lift the heavy thing off of him. Bucky wiggled out from under the beam and knelt there for a second before Steve said something to him that I couldn't hear, he reared back and swung a punch at him after that. I stood to my feet and slowly made my way to them, stopping multiple times to steady myself as the carrier trembled violently. I reached them just as a large metal cylinder fell into the glass floor, making it give way. I fell through the broken glass and into the cold water of the Potomac River.

I swam weakly to the surface. Once my head came out of the water I took a deep breath in and made my way to the rocky shore, careful to not be hit by any debris. The shore was farther away than I had anticipated and I was almost completely out of breath as I crawled my way out of the water. Laying on my back I looked and the smoke filled the sky.

‘So much for laying low,' I thought to myself. I was broken from my thoughts as a few yards down the shoreline Bucky came out of the water dragging Steve with him. He looked back at me as he dropped Steve to the ground but then turned to walk away. I got up quickly and ran to Steve, making sure he was okay. I took out the tracker Maria had given each of us in case anything happened and set it off. They would come find him now, I gave him a short kiss on the forehead. “Goodbye Stevie, I'll see you again some time,” I whispered to him before taking off my tracker and throwing it into the water.

I started walking in the direction Bucky had gone, He couldn't have gotten far with that broken arm and I was right. I found him slowly making his way through the woods. I stayed away from him, but he never left my sight. I knew he realized I had followed him when he tried to slip away behind a group of dense trees but was unsuccessful. He tried this a few more times before giving up and acknowledging that I wasn’t going anywhere. Finally, we broke out into part of the city, but we kept a low profile, or as low of one as two people in fighting suits and a man with a metal arm could. I kept inching closer to him as we walked and twenty minutes in I was almost next to him.

“Quit following me” He let out gruffly without looking back at me.

“No,” I argued.

“Quit following me, now,” He said a little more agitatedly.

“No, I won’t. I’m not leaving you alone and hurting Bucky. I love you, I can't leave you again.” That made him stop in his tracks and eye me down.

“Don’t know who you are.” his voice sounded uncertain.

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t.

“I have proof that you do.” I yanked the necklace with the ring and locket over my head and marched to him, holding it out. He took it hesitantly and looked at the ring first then opening the locket he just stared at the picture of the both of us together. I saw something flicker in his eyes before he gave the necklace back, it almost looked like he remembered something. He started back walking but didn’t say a word when I kept following, just let out a long huff.

It took us an hour to reach Ronald Reagan Airport, and I finally understood what his plan was. “So your plan is to hijack a plane?”

“You aren’t coming.”

“I don’t know why you want to argue with me, I’m coming with you.” He gave me another glare after that.

We were walking through the small wooded area across the road from the runway when suddenly Bucky stopped. There was a small metal sign secured to one of the trees to the right, in big bold letters it said ‘NO TRESPASSING’. Bucky pulled on it and it opened like a small door into the tree where a keypad was nestled. He typed in a series of numbers and a few seconds later the ground started to move several right next to us. I jerked my head in the direction of the commotion only to see the ground opening up to a narrow staircase that descended into the earth. Bucky then closed the sign and started down the stairs, I followed suit.

It became darker the further we descended, the sounds of cars faded into the steady dripping of water. By this time I was thinking to myself that we weren't hijacking a plane, but I was proved wrong as the stairs leveled out to flat ground and Bucky turned the hanger lights on. There in the middle of the room was a black jet with a red HYDRA symbol on its side.

Looking around the room there were papers strewn about, dust even covered some of the desks along the walls. The place looked like it hadn't been used in years. To my left, I spotted Bucky grabbing all sorts of weapons from a rack on the wall and shoving them in a tattered duffel bag before zipping it up and heading to the jet. I trailed behind him.

He raised his hand up and pressed on part of the back flap to the jet, a small handle shot out and he pulled on it, which opened the back hatch of the jet. When it settled on the ground Bucky and I climbed up the ramp and into the cabin. Bucky tossed the duffel bag onto one of the benches and headed for the cockpit. He hit several buttons and switches before sitting down in the pilot's seat.

“Where are we going?” I asked softly as I sat myself down in the copilot’s seat.

“Romania.”

Tag List: @ginger-swag-rapunzel @underc0vercryptid-reads @geek-and-proud @intothesoul @leyannrae @starkleila @andy-is-gay

#james buchanan barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #winter solider x reader #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction

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biaswreckingfics · 3 years

Text

No Limits: Part 14

Author: biaswreckingfics

Genre: Mafia AU - Warnings? Everything that goes on in a mafia au

Word Count: 7.1k

Previous Chapter

Y/N's POV

Minseok was recklessly speeding back to the compound, and you were thankful that in your haste, you still remembered to put on your seatbelt. You glance over your shoulder at the backseat every time Minseok makes a sharp turn and catch Sehun trying to stop himself from slamming into the door each time. You knew if he was in the right mindset, he would've cussed Minseok out, but judging by the look on his face, he was far from it.

The shocked and fearful look that showed up on his face when he was talking to Jaesuk was still present, and you couldn't help but wonder if it was fear for himself or Jaesuk. When you had spoken to Sehun at the beach about his Baem friend, you had no indication of how close they were. It was clear to you now, however, that the two had grown closer than you realized. It didn't really hit you until you heard Jaesuk's words to Sehun before he hung up.

The Baem man telling Sehun to help EXO do whatever they needed to do, and then to end them... Then him hoping to see Sehun when this was all over... The entire conversation was unexpected; and not something you would've ever predicted to come out of a Baem member's mouth.

"Jesus christ, Minseok." Sehun grits out as he slams into the door again.

"You should've put your seatbelt on, you idiot." Minseok throws back without sympathy.

"No shit."

You watch Sehun look around like he was debating if it would be worth it to put his seatbelt on when you were already so close to the compound. In the end, he must've said screw it because he sat back with a huff and a tight grip on the door handle.

You notice Minseok glancing at you when he has a small chance to look away from the road, and it makes you nervous. After the third glance, you finally ask him why he keeps looking at you.

"I just want you to realize that once we walk through those doors, we're going to war. No more playtime or throwing around threats. We're attacking the Baem today."

You swallow nervously and let his words sink into you. This was going to be your first time seeing EXO in action... and this might be the last time you ever see some of these men who have become your family again... You shake those thoughts from your head. This is what you wanted. You wanted the Baem to pay for everything they've done and now was your chance to make sure they finally do.

You look up in time to see Minseok whip into the driveway and hear Sehun's muttered "finally" from the back. There was no time to be scared or nervous, so when Minseok throws open his door, you're quick to follow.

Sehun, on the other hand, was not. You notice him slowly getting out of the SUV while taking in the giant brick structure in front of him. He slowly closes the door behind him, and you find yourself wondering what was going through his head for the third time today. This was his first time home in months, and the first time he'll be seeing all of EXO with his memories intact.

You follow Minseok up to the front door and glance back to see Sehun slowly trailing behind you. The second Minseok opens the door, you can hear a cacophony of voices coming from the other side of it like they were all standing right at the door waiting. Which, you find out, is exactly the case.

You jump a little when you see the group of men focus on you and Minseok as you walk into the house. Your eyes immediately find Baekhyun, and he gives you a relieved smile once he sees you. His eyes quickly scanning you from head-to-toe to make sure you're okay, which is a habit you noticed he picked up months ago, any time you walked out the front door without him. A moment later, his eyes fall onto something behind you, and that's when you know he's spotted Sehun.

"No way..." Jongin breathily lets out from beside Baekhyun.

Sehun slowly steps into the house behind you and takes in all the shocked faces staring at him. The shock mostly being felt by Baekhyun, Yixing, and Jongin, who were seeing him for the first time since the warehouse.

Sehun's eyes dart around before they find the exact person he was looking for. He stares at Chanyeol, who carefully watches him through sad eyes before he takes a step toward him. Chanyeol startles at the action, and his eyes widen in confusion.

Sehun quickly closes the gap between them and pulls the slightly taller man into a tight hug. Chanyeol remains frozen as Sehun quickly begins mumbling apologies.

"I'm sorry for being gone so long... and I'm sorry for not remembering you..."

Minseok quietly informs the room that Sehun has his memories back as the rest of the men watch in confusion. Once Chanyeol hears this, his arms fly up around Sehun and pull him impossibly closer, the latter letting out a small "umph".

"He remembers us?!" Jongin asks excitedly before a sour expression takes over his face. "Good, because he pulled some shit at the warehouse that I never got to bitch at him for."

Jongdae tells him to shut up as they all patiently wait for the cousins to properly reunite. Your eyes trail over to Yixing, and you can see him slightly biting his lip while he stares at Sehun. You knew he was itching to check Sehun out, now that his memories were back, but he knew now wasn't the right time.

"As much as I'd love to celebrate Sehun coming back to us...We need to act now before the Baem does."

Junmyeon's words sobered up the room as they all remembered what needed to be done. Ripples of words echoed through the men as they talked amongst themselves about what they were going to do. The word "bombs" being thrown around enough times to catch both your and Sehun's attention. Just what the hell was their plan?

"I'm sorry about the irony of this," Junmyeon vaguely begins saying, pulling the attention of Sehun. "How this is almost exactly like the last time you were with us. Rushing out the door after the Baem, and blowing up buildings... It's almost like you didn't miss anything at all..."

"Except we're missing one important person..." Sehun quietly says before looking over toward Jongdae, "and have apparently gained some more."

You follow his line of sight and notice three guys behind Jongdae that you had never seen a day in your life. How the hell did you miss three random faces when you came in here? It was like everything you had apparently learned in your training had gone out the window. Then Sehun's words penetrate through your brain, and you realize he had brought up Kyungsoo.

"How did you end up finding out?" Chanyeol quietly asks him.

Sehun looks down at his feet like he's trying to find the right words to say. He inhales deeply before looking up at the rest of you.

"The first 'mission' the Baem sent me on was to come here and report back to them everyone who showed up to a memorial that was being held in the backyard... I didn't realize it at the time, but it was Kyungsoo's..."

Your breath catches in your throat at his admission. He was sent to spy on his own friend's funeral, and he didn't even know it. The thought made you absolutely sick to your stomach, and you knew the feeling was mutual among the rest of the men. Their face's portraying their anger and pain at the thoughts of Sehun being put in that situation.

"When my memories came back, and I had time to reflect on everything... I was able to connect some dots... and it really fucking sucked when I realized what had happened," he recalls through gritted teeth, trying to hide his sadness.

"The fact that he's..." Sehun shakes his head and takes a breath, "I haven't truly been able to process it yet... I am happy, in some twisted sort of way, that I was able to be at the memorial, though... Even if I didn't realize it was for Kyungsoo, I felt... connected to him. I remember thinking how crazy it was that both of us were in the same explosion, but only one of us made it... I just didn't realize how connected we were."

The back of your throat burns, and you blink a few times to try to relieve the stinging you were feeling in your eyes, but it doesn't help much. While Sehun was talking, the thought that Sehun didn't know what happened to Kyungsoo occurred to you. That it was Sehun's own weapon that ended up taking Kyungsoo out. You find Chanyeol's eyes as you remember him telling you Sehun would blame himself if he ever found out how Kyungsoo had died. You were starting to get dangerously close to that happening.

Sehun couldn't find out what happened that night. At least, not yet. Not when you still had something to do, so you try to get Sehun to focus on something else.

"Sehun... did you stick around after the memorial ended? Were you..."

"Watching you?" He asks, and you nod. "Yeah, that was me. I was about to leave when you came back outside. I stayed because they wanted me to gather any information I could... on all of you."

"You were the shadow man on the cameras this whole time?" Jongin asks in surprise. "Well, I guess that's one less thing we have to worry about."

It was a relief to know it had been Sehun watching you, and not some creep or enemy. Now you could put that silent question that had always been in the back of your head to rest, and get some answers to some other questions you had.

You point to the men behind Jongdae and immediately ask, "Who are they?"

Jongdae glances over his shoulder at the men behind him, and that's when you take a good look at their appearances. All three of them looked to be in their mid to late 20's, just like most of you were, but they all held a slightly more innocent look than you were used to. Not to say they were innocent because they definitely gave off some "bad boy" vibes, but besides the lip and nose piercings two of them had, they looked very plain. Black hair and black clothes like they wanted to hide from the world and not be seen.

Jongdae surprises you when he answers your abrupt question. "These are members of Kyungsoo and I's old gang... I knew we were going to need some help, and they were more than willing to offer themselves... They want revenge for Kyungsoo, just like the rest of us."

One of the men nods at Jongdae's words as another one looks at you. You meet his gaze and see curiosity in his eyes. That's when you figure that they must know Kyungsoo died while saving you. It didn't seem like he blamed you for it, but he was definitely intrigued by you.

"We'll accept any help that you can offer. How many of there are you?" Your brother asks.

"15. All more than willing to do what's necessary."

His words make you wonder if this is the first time they've gone head to head with a mafia group. If you remembered correctly, they were a part of a small gang that pushed drugs into schools and universities. They weren't dealing with selling weapons, extortion, and the more vile things these groups did.

They were willing to take that final step for Kyungsoo, but would they actually be able to do it?

"Perfect. That'll be a lot of help." Junmyeon says, snapping you to attention.

"Alright, here's the deal. We're dividing each district between two of you and each of your units. How you want to handle each district will be for you guys to figure out when you get there, but we'll have roughly a 20 minute time frame to get everything done from start to finish. Jongdae, since you have your old gang with you, you'll be getting two districts to cover. There's enough of you that you'll be able to handle it."

Jongdae nods. "That's fine. Which areas?"

"Districts 5 and 7. Baekhyun and Jongin, you have District 3, which is the closest to downtown, so you'll need to be a little more careful. Chanyeol and Sehun, will the two of you be okay to work together?"

"Absolutely." Chanyeol immediately says without hesitation.

"Okay, then you'll have District 6 along the river. Minseok and I will take District 2 on the east side."

You had been watching your brother hand out orders and assignments in a very militaristic fashion without an issue... but to hear that he was going out on this mission was a surprise to you. You thought it was important for the leader to remain safe in case everything went wrong... Why would he so willingly jump into the chaos?

"You're going out there?" Sehun asks in surprise. Apparently, he was on the same wavelength as you.

"I'm not sitting this one out." Your brother adamantly says with a shake of his head before smirking and looking over at Minseok. "It'll be just like old times."

"Where do you want us?" Yixing asks.

Your eyebrows raise at his question. There was only one other person in the room without an assignment, and it was you. Were you the other part of the "us" and if you were, why are you just now finding out about it?

"Yixing and Y/N will be in the middle of all the districts in District 4. Along with Yixing's medical unit, they'll be tending to the wounded, as well as alerting all teams of any incoming back up. They'll have a good vantage point of each area."

You swore your body was as stiff as a board while your brother spoke. You didn't know the first thing about first aid, let alone know how to do triage or whatever the hell else they did in warzones because that was exactly what this was about to be.

There were going to be innocent bystanders walking around out there, and police will probably come in and attempt to stop whatever was happening. Not to mention the EXO and Baem members that will be trying to kill each other in the middle of it all. Also, lets not forget that you didn't even know what the fuck their plan was. You were going in completely blind, and you knew that was your brother's intention.

You wanted to be involved, so he put you out there in the thick of it, but he made sure to truly keep you out of the way. You could help them, but apparently only so much. You weren't even sure if you should be angry, offended, or scared that you now possibly held their lives in your hands, and you didn't know how to do anything about it.

"Y/N, Yixing will fill you in on everything on the way there. Chanyeol, you'll have to fill Sehun in too. The rest of us know what we need to do." Junmyeon tells the room while looking at each person in the eye.

"What even is your plan?" You finally find your voice, and boy, does it sound pissed off. "What the hell are you even doing?"

"We're blowing up half the city tonight, baby girl," Jongin says with a smirk.

Baekhyun snaps his head toward the younger man when he hears the nickname that had fallen from his lips before promptly slapping him in the back of the head. "Don't call her that."

Junmyeon rolls his eyes at the two before turning to look at you. He could tell you were pissed off about being so in the dark and that you probably thought whatever their plan was, was stupid, so he tries to placate you. "Yixing will fill you in on the way."

You feel yourself grinding your teeth at your brother's response. You glare at him also, so he can truly get it through his thick skull how fucked up this was, but then you slowly nod, because what else are you supposed to do? Throw a fit? Claim you're not going because you didn't get your way? No. You were going to suck it up and deal with your anger later.

"We're doing this to show the rest of the mafia world not to fuck with us. To prove we will not be walked over, and that anything that is done to us will be returned tenfold... but we're also doing this for those the Baem have taken from us," your brother states in a strong voice. "We let them get away with too much, and that ends today."

Jongdae matches Junmyeon's stare with a steely expression. "For Kyungsoo."

"Jisoo and Minhyuk," Baekhyun adds with determination.

"Jiho..." Chanyeol says before slowly looking at his cousin. "And Sehun."

You meet your brother's stare and remember the night that started you both down the paths you were now leading. "Our parents."

Junmyeon nods and then turns to look at the rest of the men. "Tonight, this ends. We will not let a single Baem member escape. We're going to eradicate that group off the face of this planet, and by the end of the day, they will all be dead."

It would be hard for anyone to follow up the words that just poured from your brother with anger and determination, so no one bothered to try. Wordlessly, everyone started packing up their gear and whatever else they needed and headed out to their vehicles.

Since you were never told about anything that was going to happen, you awkwardly stand in the entryway, feeling like you're just in the way of everyone else rushing around. Yixing and a man you've only seen a handful of times before were carrying medical supplies out to one of the black SUVs while you debated asking him if he needed help.

Before you could decide, a hand slides into your own, and you're quickly pulled down the hallway and away from the men getting ready to risk their lives. Your eyes follow the line of the arm and eventually see the back of Baekhyun's head as he pulls you along with him.

"Baek, where are we going?"

He glances back at you with a small, borderline sad, smile. "I just need a minute..."

You allow him to pull you into the kitchen and watch as he quickly scans to make sure the two of you were alone. Once he's satisfied, he turns to you with a serious gaze that only slightly shocks you.

"Baek..." you quietly say, squeezing the hand he was still holding on to.

"I need a moment to be alone with you before... everything goes down." He reaches for your other hand and holds them both gently. "I don't know if - "

"Stop." You quickly tell him, not wanting to hear the words you know are going to come out of his mouth.

"No. We need to face reality... There's a chance... that I might not make it back from this... Hell, there's a chance you might not either. We have no idea what's going to happen today... That's why I had to be alone with you one last time... I needed to do this."

With those words, he pulls you toward him by your hands before letting them go and placing his gently on both of your cheeks. He lightly swipes his thumbs over your cheeks like he is handling the most fragile jewel in the world. His eyes search your own, and you can't tell if he's trying to find comfort or take a mental image of this moment so he'll never forget it.

He slowly leans forward, and your eyes reflexively close once you feel the slight brush of his lips on yours. He adds a little pressure to the kiss, but it still remains soft and gentle. It was a reassuring, you're-my-entire-world kiss that you will carry with you forever, but if this was the last time you would see him, you needed something more.

You wrap your hands around the back of his neck and pull him closer to you, your lips immediately pushing harder on to his. He quickly follows suit and deepens the kiss, his hands reaching down to your waist and tugging you impossibly closer.

You kiss him like this was the last time you'll ever see him. You put every amount of emotion you can into it: fear, love, desperation, hope... and you can tell in the tight way he holds you that he's doing the same. His fingers grip into your sides like he's afraid to let you go, to let this moment end, and if you're honest with yourself... you're afraid too.

Unfortunately, there was no more time for stalling, and as much as you wanted to ignore Jongin's shouts for Baekhyun, you knew you couldn't. You break the kiss but make no move to pull away. Baekhyun lets out a sigh as he rests his forehead against yours.

He reaches back up to cup your cheek and lets out a quiet, "I love you". A small smile grows on your face as you fight the tears that are attempting to escape from your eyes. "I love you too."

Baekhyun notices your watery eyes immediately and shakes his head slightly, whispering, "Please, don't cry. I'll never be able to walk away from you if you do..."

"I'm sorry..." you match his tone, "I'm just scared of what'll happen."

"I know, baby. I know." He pulls away and lightly kisses your forehead. "I'm going to fight like hell to come back to you, and you better do the same if you need to."

You nod against him as he pulls you into a tight hug. You couldn't speak at the moment because you knew if any words came out tears would be soon to follow, so you wrap your arms around his waist and hold him instead. You wish the moment could last forever, but it's abruptly interrupted when Jongin comes through the kitchen door looking for Baekhyun.

You catch him awkwardly trying to pretend he didn't interrupt anything as you pull away from the warmth and comfort that is Baekhyun.

"Sorry to interrupt, but... it's time to go."

A slight stab of fear pierces your heart because everything was happening so freaking fast. You felt like you had zero time to prepare yourself mentally or emotionally for whatever was about to happen, and it was all coming to a head quicker than you liked.

Baekhyun's hand stays on the small of your back as the two of you follow Jongin back down the hallway. The only people left in the compound were your brother, Minseok, Yixing, and the man you just remembered was named Junyoung. As you approach the group, who were clearly waiting for you, your brother gives you a small smile. Once you're in reach, his hand comes up to rest on the back of your head, lightly patting your hair.

"You ready?" You nod at his question, and your brother pulls you into a tight hug of his own. "After today, we won't have to worry about the Baem anymore. We're going to get the revenge we should've gotten years ago."

After he pulls away, time slips from you. You're ushered out into an SUV and driving towards the city before you even realize Yixing is the one driving you. You turn to the back seat and see Junyoung staring out the window behind you.

"Ah, she's back." Yixing tries to joke, but you're not in the mood.

"Yixing... what's going to happen tonight?"

You knew Jongin said they were blowing up half of the city, but that couldn't be true, right? There was no way for something like that to go unnoticed. How would you even begin to explain it?

"Jongin was exaggerating, right?"

A grimace passes on Yixing's face, and you know right away, Jongin had not been exaggerating.

"What the hell?! How are any of you going to get away with this?"

Yixing shrugs like what they were going to do wasn't even a big deal. "That's just how it works. The city officials will take care of the explanation. Gas leaks, terrorism, maybe even gang violence, but either way, they benefit from this."

"How do they benefit from their city being blown up?" You ask in disbelief.

"If everything goes right, an entire mafia family is going to be wiped away. That's less crime, fewer drugs, and less mafia leader's to deal with. Any debts or blackmail the Baem have on them will be gone, and that's all they care about."

"But you guys will still have that information... which is exactly why they'll cover for you."

He smirks as you piece together the inner workings of corruption. "You're just like your brother, mafia princess."

You make a face at the name and feel the slightest bit of your mood change. "Don't ever call me that again."

Sehun's POV

He anxiously taps his fingers against his leg as he sits in the passenger seat of Chanyeol's car. So many things were running through his mind that he almost couldn't even pick one to focus on.

As they followed one of the men's vehicles ahead, Jongdae he thinks, he finally focuses in on one thing. How weird it was to be with Chanyeol again. Well, EXO in general, but especially in the car with Chanyeol now. It had been months since he's seen his home or been within such close proximity to his cousin, and you'd think he'd be ecstatic, but he was more conflicted than he expected.

He couldn't be happier to be back with his family and to feel safe but the familiarity he once felt was further away than he expected. He knew he had changed. Anyone who went through what he had was bound to come back different. He just didn't expect to feel so removed from himself. Maybe it was because he had no chance to acclimate back into his old life. He was immediately thrown back into the chaos that was eerily similar to the last time he went out on an EXO mission.

That was another thing that bothered him. Once Chanyeol explained what they were doing, Sehun felt a tightening in his chest. A fear he didn't even realize he had was growing inside of him. He was terrified of history repeating itself, of one of them being lost to EXO or another being lost to himself. He wasn't mentally prepared for it.

The next thing that was bugging him was where Jaesuk was. Had he been able to get away? Did the leaders find him? Was he already gone from this world? Sehun had to find out what happened to him before this was all over.

Chanyeol turns off the headlights as they approach the corner of the street they needed, snapping Sehun from his thoughts. The sun was still setting, painting the sky with purples and golds, and providing enough light for them to see.

Sehun took note of the fact that they weren't in an extravagant area of town. In fact, the houses were majorly run down or already abandoned by whoever owned them previously. It would be easy to blow up this area without a thought or worry about people being around and catching them.

A black SUV was waiting up ahead, and Sehun knew it was men from his and Chanyeol's units. A spark of relief fills him at the thought of seeing his men. The ones who somehow managed to grow on him, even though Sehun often tried to keep his distance from them.

"The warehouse is about a quarter of a mile to the East, but this will be our rendezvous point," Chanyeol informs him, nodding his head to where the men are.

They pull to a stop behind the SUV, and Chanyeol turns off the ignition. Before he opens his door, he turns to Sehun. "I know you just came back, but there's no one else I'd rather have by my side right now."

Sehun nods, not knowing what to say to the soft words that flowed from Chanyeol's mouth, but he doesn't even get the chance to speak. His cousin throws open the door and climbs out of his car, leaving Sehun sitting there. He watches Chanyeol walk over to the men and decides it's now or never.

Pushing the car door open, he slowly climbs out of the vehicle and starts to head over to the men Chanyeol had greeted. Almost one-by-one, all eight of them turn to face him with equal amounts of shock and confusion. Their gazes switch back and forth between Sehun and Chanyeol, trying to figure out what's going on. Clearly, none of them had expected Sehun to show up today, especially on this mission.

Sehun feels a wave of awkwardness ripple through the men as he comes to a stop in between two of them. A moment later, he's being grabbed by multiple arms and being pulled into a hug with his men. Sehun tries to hide the small smile creeping on his face at their low greetings. He doesn't want them to think he has gone soft, but the smile is there anyway.

"Alright, we'll celebrate later," Chanyeol says, breaking up the moment. "You guys know what to do. Set up devices every 10 yards around the warehouse's perimeter, and if you get caught by anyone, shoot them. Make sure your silencers are on to minimize the sound, and whatever you do, do not let them capture you. There will not be a rescue mission here. If you're not at the rally point in 15 minutes, that's it. This building is going to be blown sky-high. Don't be in it."

Sehun notices the four men from Chanyeol's unit slowly nod, but the four from Sehun's unit look hesitant. Actually, they all looked hesitant to follow Chanyeol's orders but, in the end, his men were going to no matter what. Sehun's men, however, look to Sehun for leadership, and Sehun looks back and forth between them and Chanyeol.

"Do exactly as he said. He knows more about this than I do." Sehun finally tells them once he realizes they're waiting for his orders.

Whatever awkwardness was happening here would have to wait until later. Hopefully, he'd have a chance to talk with them and figure out what the heck was going on and why they weren't immediately listening to Chanyeol.

10 minutes later, all of Sehun's and his unit's bombs were in place and ready to be detonated. There was one close call where he thought they were going to get caught, but they were able to hide quick enough and finish the task. Sehun was surprised to see the warehouse so empty and seemingly unguarded. It was enough to put him on edge, considering he knew from his time with the Baem that this was usually a well-secured building.

The little alarm bells in his head started ringing once they got to the rally point, and he noticed Chanyeol and his men weren't anywhere in sight. Sehun tried to calm himself because he knew they had another five minutes to get here but, with each minute that passed, Sehun grew increasingly worried.

Once the 15 minutes were up, and Chanyeol was still a no-show, Sehun immediately started making his way back toward the building. He makes it a few feet before one of his men grips his arm tightly.

"He said this wasn't a rescue mission."

"If you think I'm not going in there after my cousin, you're very much mistaken."

The man moves in front of him in an attempt to physically stop him, and Sehun has to stop himself from laughing. "It's been 15 minutes. We have to be in sync with the other groups, or backup will show up here to protect the warehouse."

"First of all," Sehun says, while removing the man's grip from his arm, "don't grab me like that again. Secondly, I don't give a fuck what Chanyeol said. I'm not leaving anyone behind, and I'm certainly not leaving five of them. I wouldn't leave any of you behind, so I'm not leaving my own family behind either. Give me five minutes, and if I'm not back, blow it up."

"We're not blowing up the building with you in it." Another one of his men says while stepping closer to them.

"But you'll do it with five other men in there?" Sehun asks with disappointment.

"I don't know what the hell happened while I was gone, but this is not how we do things, and we're not going to start now."

The man next to him bites his lip while looking over at the one who had the guts to stop Sehun before deciding for himself. "You're right. We don't leave anyone behind. We'll give you five minutes, but then we're coming in after you."

Sehun gives a curt nod, already planning the discussion he was going to have with his unit for the little stunt that was just pulled before running for the warehouse. He couldn't believe they were willing to leave the other men behind, and he didn't care if that's what Chanyeol told them to do. That wasn't how Sehun led them, and he was damn sure going to remind them of that.

Another small thought niggled at the back of his mind. Had they done that to him? Did they even bother to search for Sehun when we went missing, or did they just write him off like they were willing to do to Chanyeol?

Sehun pushes the thought aside as he enters the giant warehouse. He wildly looks around for a sign of anyone, but there's nothing. The building is almost eerily quiet, and Sehun knew this would end badly. He knew the warehouse, which held all different types of guns, usually had a minimum of 20 people loitering around. The fact that there was no one... it wasn't right.

Movement toward the back of the building caught his attention, and he took off toward it at full speed. He made it to the back of the building in less than 30 seconds, but when he rounded the same corner he saw the man go around, there was nothing, literally nothing, not even a door.

Sehun turns around, thinking there was a small chance he missed something and meets the end of a Glock. He looks past the barrel of the gun pointed directly in his face to meet the eyes of a Baem member he didn't recognize. Mentally, he let out a multitude of curse words, but physically, he kept his face completely blank.

"I don't know if I should say 'welcome home' or if I should shoot you for trespassing." The man smugly says.

Much to his disappointment, Sehun gives him nothing. No words or facial movements, just a blank stare while he waits to see what the man's next move will be. Once the man realizes this, he roughly grabs Sehun by his jacket and pushes him in front of him, down toward a short hallway. Sehun only makes it to the second door on the left before he's shoved into the room by the man behind him.

This was it. They were finally going to kill him. He couldn't decide if it was almost more cruel that he was given the chance to see the people he loved one last time or not. Would it be easier for them to let him go now that they got to see him and reunite, or would it hurt more?

However, Sehun was in for the shock of his life when he scans the room and sees his two closest allies kneeling on the ground while being tied up with guns pointed toward their heads.

His head shoots up, and he counts six other Baem members in the room, including the one who brought him here at gunpoint before his eyes fall back down to Chanyeol and Jaesuk.

If the other two men were free, there was a chance that the three of them could easily take on the other six men, but just Sehun himself? No way. There was also no way he'd get the chance to free his two friends from the chains that were attached to their hands and feet.

There was only one thing Sehun could do, and that was stall the Baem long enough for his unit to get to them.

He looks between Chanyeol and Jaesuk. One knowing exactly who the other was, while the other didn't have a clue. Chanyeol didn't know who Jaesuk was. He didn't know he was the one who protected him and guided him while his memory was gone, or that Jae was part of the reason this entire operation was possible. All he knew was there was some man tied up next to him, but Jae knew exactly who Chanyeol was. He knew how important his cousin was to him.

Jaesuk had clearly been beaten during or after his capture and Sehun was surprised and suspicious, yet very happy the man was still alive. Although... Sehun had to wonder why the Baem kept him alive or what their plan was.

The two men, though tied up, looked very pissed off that Sehun was in front of them, and not far away like he should've been. Sehun ignores them and looks around the room for whoever was in charge. That's when his eyes land on Minho. The man who had lied to him from the first moment he met him.

"Oh Sehun... I'm sad to see us in this situation."

"I'm sure you are," Sehun replies drily, causing a smirk to grow on Minho's face.

Sehun cautiously watches while Minho walks behind Chanyeol and Jaesuk's tied up bodies and spews more bullshit. "So, when did you get your memories back?"

"Does it really matter? It turns out I was able to help EXO even when I didn't have my memory."

Sehun really would give almost anything to wipe that smirk off of Minho's face, but his words just cause Minho to step towards Jaesuk and kick him swiftly in the ribs. Jae grunts in pain but remains in his kneeling position.

"Right. I'm sure this one provided enough of that information to you also."

"Jaesuk had nothing to do with it." Sehun defensively says, knowing it was futile but still trying to cover for him.

Chanyeol looks between Sehun and the man next to him in realization. It was clear once Sehun said his name, Chanyeol figured out that this was the Baem member Sehun had been working with.

When Minho didn't bother to respond to Sehun, he got a little worried. He knew he had to keep the Baem members talking if he wanted to give his unit enough time to get in here and offer some help.

"What do you even want, Minho?"

Minho glances over at Sehun in surprise. "What do I want? Well, I want your cousin here to die because he's my enemy, I want to torture Jaesuk for his betrayal, and I want to make you sit there and watch it all. However, I don't have the time for that, considering EXO is making a move on us as we speak, so I'm going to force you to choose instead."

An uneasy feeling creeps up Sehun's spine as he considers Minho's words. "Choose what?"

A cruel smirk grows on Minho's face as he walks back and forth behind Chanyeol and Jaesuk. "Which one of these two walks out of here alive. Your cousin or your ally?"

"And why would I do that?" Sehun tries to ask in a calm voice.

There was no fucking way he was going to choose who was going to live or die between Chanyeol and Jaesuk. He would never be able to go on with his life, supposing he was able to make it out of this room alive, knowing he saved one and not the other.

Minho shrugs like the answer was obvious. "Because if you don't, I'll kill them both."

"Why do you think I'm stupid enough to not know you're just going to kill them both anyway before coming after me?"

"See... if you choose, I'll let the other one go. Now, if he gets away fast enough will be up to him," he says with a smile. "I really only want you and Jaesuk, and I'm guessing you'll choose to free your cousin. This way, it's much more fun for me to watch Jaesuk realize you don't give a shit about him, and he betrayed us for nothing. On the other hand, the small chance you choose Jaesuk over Chanyeol is too delicious to pass up."

"I'm not choosing." Sehun refuses, avoiding the eyes of the two men kneeling on the floor. A minimum of three minutes had to have passed by now. He only had to stall for a tiny bit longer.

Minho lazily points a finger toward him. "See, if you don't choose, I'm killing all three of you right here, right now. Come on, Sehun! At least give one of them hope that they'll survive!"

To make his point clear, two Baem members step up on each side of Chanyeol and Jaesuk and point the barrels of their guns at their heads. Sehun heard movement from behind him and knew another member was pointing one at his as well.

He finally makes eye contact with his two allies again and finds rage simmering in their eyes, but... there's also a deadly calmness in them, like both men were prepared for whatever Sehun decided to do. It was almost unnerving.

"Come on, Sehun... Don't make me actually start to countdown." Minho taunts.

Sehun looks at him with an expression of pure hatred. If he makes it out of this alive, he's going to redefine what the word "torture" means, and he's going to enjoy every second of it.

Minho lets out a sigh. "Fine. We can do it this way too."

"3..."

"2..."

"1..."

Tagging: @knjkitten @kpopserene @multifandombxxch @tashaxvamp @kpop---scenarios @bhyunni @chanyeolismybaby @flaming-laboob @taetaeeyong @lilbitoflyssa @misstressporkchoppp @hoseok-wang @spiltkpop @isha454 @depuis2mille @marovekian1 @ladylynae @abby8451 @lynniev @insta1010 @sawadabegum @avxngxrrogxrs @equesasprokishi @imstuckinafictionaluniverse @layisanangel @mongryong-the-corgi @overthelamebowz @lizbether01 @thatanonymousgirl-as14 @nothingbutadeadesceane @kim-ji-hyeons-world @suhappysuho @futuremrspcy @lovebuginlove @skylions-den @precious-seungwooya @softysuho @kuppyjiminie @blushinyouth @bat-shark-repellant @vickylamore @heartshapedenchiladas @cardtak @tanithrea @wooya1224 @multifanstuff @hyuniebaby @sehunnies-hunnie96 @endzii23 @kkpoptrashhh @mayzerofour @ries-universe

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obeymeplz · 3 years

Text

one of those days ll mammon x gn reader

LISTEN guys... I’ve peeled through every single fanfic and one shot of my boy boy that I can find.

I’m done, finished, kaput. And I need content. So I decided to make my own.

2k words, ft. Belphie my salty homie

Warnings: mean(ish) mammon (because I’m a hoe for angst, highly implicative of smut...?, cussing...?

Enjoy ig ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ sorry if I suck LOL

It was one of those days, and it all began when you dropped your plate of pickled pancakes (it’s an acquired Devildom taste) all over your crisp, white shoes. Beel involuntarily frowned at the waste of food, while the other demon boys snickered at your inherent clumsiness, Lucifer merely rolling his eyes before excusing himself from the table. But someone was missing that morning.

From that moment on, you knew nothing would be going your way.

Your bad luck followed you to second period, where you received a colossal “F” on your scrying test, and then to lunch where Satan and Asmo had to pull you out of a fight with a succubus who had thought it her business to label you a “suck up whore”. This was a name you were used to; from the moment you arrived, every demon and unthinkable hoard in the Devildom believed you to be sleeping with every brother in the House of Lamentation, playing through all of them with zero consequences. Despite the utter falsity of these accusations, they hurt no less every time you had to hear them.

And to top today’s cake with a juicy red cherry, the one single person who could make all your worries melt away with just a smile had been nowhere in your sights all day. Mammon was indeed the sunshine you needed on this dreary afternoon, with his dumb tinted glasses and cocky remarks, yet endearing eyes and wondrous grin.

Staring out the window of an empty chem room, waiting for someone to be available to walk you home, you realized that it was an odd day - such a new world you’d been thrown into, yet so quickly you had familiarized yourself with your new “normal”; and now that normal wasn’t there. There were certain things you knew, day in and day out.

The sun will (sort of) rise.

The sun will (kind of) set.

You live in Hell.

Mammon will always be there.

These things you counted on to be true, because if they weren’t, you weren’t entirely certain how you’d keep your sanity intact.

“For a human who’s supposed to be completely inferior to our kind, you sure do seem to think a lot”.

Belphie.

“Gee, Belphie, you know, “you sure do” have a way with words. Thank you! I just feel so much better”, you scoffed a retort as you swung your legs over the ledge of the window to face the cow-haired boy, clearly having just woken from sleeping through 7th period. He only smirked at you.

“I heard you need a warm body to walk next to, and I figured I could use the company. Home?”

You smiled smally as he helped you to your feet. “Yeah, home sounds nice”.

He reciprocated the smile.

“So, what really has you down in the dumps?”

You shrugged as you tried to formulate a thought that might make sense to him.

“Well… I guess I-”, you had to cut off mid sentence, because something familiar began to tickle your ears — a laugh, one you’d been aching to hear all day.

“Belphie, is that… is that Mammon? Where has he been all day?”, you were asking the question, but your legs were already moving you out the door away from the answer. He replied, but you could only piece together bits as you got further away from him, following the voice of the snow-haired boy instead. Argument, Mammon left, crashed with friends, all night, definitely in trouble. That’s what you processed.

“Mammon-” you rounded the corner, but halted in your tracks, backing behind it when you came near face-to-face with a group of demons much taller and much stronger than you, energies darker than the ones you were used to being surrounded by.

He hadn’t heard you.

“Bro, that was a riot. You gotta swing with us more often my man”.

“Ya know Lucifer wouldn’t even think ‘bout lettin’ me ride with you guys on the day-to-day. ‘Sides, I got things to do”.

“You mean a human to babysit?”, your breath caught in your throat. You heard Mammon scoff.

“No! I do what I want. They’re cool.”

Your heart pounded into your throat (but that’s something you’d never let him know). You were just friends, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever be more. Sure, he was terrible at hiding how much he cared about you, and sure, he was ridiculously possessive over you, but he’s also the Avatar of Greed, so how much of that is him needing you versus his sin needing you? The way you saw it, neither of those things amounted to relationship-worthy love.

The conversation was droning on, and you’d almost forgotten you were listening.

“So, you fuckin that then or what?”

Your head snapped back into full awareness, the tone of your feelings completely changing every second, anxiously awaiting your favorite demon’s reply. Why were you so nervous? He wouldn’t lie about you, he wouldn’t slander your name — not with what people already thought of you because you lived in a giant house with 7 painfully-attractive, desire-filled, and experienced, rulers of Hell.

“Yeah, the rumors true?”

Mammon’s voice came next at a grumble.

He stuttered it.

You almost didn’t catch it.

You must not have.

“Y-yeah. No, I mean absolutely. I mean, how could a human even turn down The Great Mammon? They couldn’t, and they don’t.”

You must not have heard it — but you did, and you almost wished you hadn’t

Before your thoughts could catch up with your limbs, you found yourself rounding the corner yet again. “Yeah, how could they not, Mammon?”, your voice cracking at the end, despite all your efforts to come across smooth and level-headed.

“MC..”, Mammon’s mouth instantly hung open, his chill facade easily melting away. He looked almost identical to a lost puppy within moments.

“Oh you can bet, Mammon fucks me every single night — no feelings involved, because that’s just the kind of big man he is. He’s even fucking me RIGHT NOW. Right, Mon?”, you seethed his nickname through your teeth. Tears were starting to puddle at the lids of your eyes, threatening to expose just how much you really cared for him, and just how unspeakably broken you felt in that moment.

“M-MC. Pl- please don’t —“, he was already approaching you, pushing past the group of boys. You turned on your heel, catching the watching eyes of Belphie at the end of the hall. You ran for him until you were in reach to yank on his arm, pulling him behind you, as fast and as far away from that school, and Mammon, as possible.

“MC!”

Mammon will always be there.

Mammon would not always be there. This was a new truth you heartbrokenly added to your list.

———————————————————-

Your room was icily cold, numbingly so.

You always kept it like that when you were sad, hoping maybe some of the lack of feeling in your body would translate to your heart.

Hoping you wouldn’t feel so shattered.

You trusted him. And he broke it. He broke you.

These are obvious statements, but as you laid solemnly tucked under a heap of blankets, you couldn’t help but run them, and the scene from today, over and over again through your brain.

Maybe you were overreacting?

Mammon had always been the brother, despite his tsundere attitude, who protected you. He never lost his cool with you, and he never treated you poorly. Maybe he made a few callous remarks here and there, but they were gentle underneath, and just his own way of showing you a glimpse of the angel wings he’d lost a long time ago.

Mammon had become your home.

“MC?”

The voice was muffled through the door, but it was undoubtedly him. You weren’t sure if you were shocked, happy, angry, or assured that he had come, but either way, you wouldn’t dare leave your covers to open the locked door. Not yet.

“MC. Please. Open the door. I-I just wanna talk to ya…”

You didn’t budge.

“I will kick this down, ya know”. You were both quiet until you heard some shuffling outside. Your eyes went wide, ready for a foot to come flying through shards of your door. You scrambled to your feet, stumbling over to the rusted knob.

You cracked it open.

“Please don’t. I don’t want to sleep in Beel’s room another week because my room needs renovating for the millionth time.”

Mammon smiled shyly at you, apologetically more than anything.

“Can I.. ya know, come in?”

You pulled out of the way, making just enough room for the tall, lean demon to slip through the crack in your door.

The moment he stepped in, he was engulfed in darkness, nothing but dim threads of moonlight that seeped in through your curtains to highlight the sharp features of his face and body. He’d shed his jacket since earlier, leaving him in his fitted black tee and jeans.

So beautiful.

You mentally slapped yourself for even thinking about it.

You were mad at him.

“So. Please talk. I’m exhausted and wasn’t planning on even looking at you tonight.” You were curt. But you had to be, or else you wouldn’t be able to hold anything back, whether that be anger, or adoration.

He looked taken back — hurt — too. He glanced at your bed and the candy wrappers strewn about the floor. Mammon wasn’t too bright, but he knew enough to know when someone had been crying for well over an hour.

On a normal occasion, he would’ve thrown himself onto your sheets, rolling until he found a comfortable position to scroll his D.D.D. and poke at you for hours.

But tonight, he awkwardly crossed his arms and shuffled his feet, clearly unsure of what to say first — or at all, for that matter.

“I-“

You raised a tired eye, cueing him to spit whatever excuse he could possibly say out.

“I get a bad rep sometimes.”

What?

“For liking ya.. Hanging with ya.”

If this was an apology, it was the worst one you’d ever heard in your life.

“Oh? Sorry. I didn’t mean to be a burden to your bravado. Let me continue to take myself out of the picture.” You pointed at the door for him to leave, ready to break down the moment he walked through.

“No! That- that’s not what I meant.” He made eye contact for a mere moment, silently begging for you to see his sincerity.

“Is anything ever what you mean, Mammon?” The use of his full name in a mix with that tone clearly set him back, but he shook it off hurriedly.

“Yes! I mean, I don’t care. Usually. I’d-I’d just had a rough day with Luci. Rough life, more like, and I was tired of feelin’ like shit ‘bout myself. Nazriel’s question jus’ threw me off. I-I wanted to seem cool, so I said what I knew would make me, and-“

“And you’re a piece of shit for it”.

You weren’t wrong. And he knew that.

“... and I’m a piece of shit for it.”

There was a pause before he hesitantly continued.

“I wound up bein’ exactly what I was tryin’ not to be. Scummy.”

He raised his eyes to meet yours, blue hues morphing into gold flecks like waves crashing on the beach. Your breath hitched and caught in your throat, only now realizing that the whole time you’d been arguing, you’d both been slowly edging together. Now, you were dangerously close.

“You aren’t scummy, Mammon…”, you began to tenderly look at him.

“Yeah.. I am. But that’s just me, I guess. I can’t mind it.”

He took one step, leaving you toe to toe. Though one of the shorter of the boys, he still towered over you.

“I jus’ can’t be scummy to you.”

You tilted your head, heart and body language softening as he spoke.

“I shouldn’t be, and I don’ wanna be”.

His hands cautiously made their way to your shoulders, and you shuddered at the feeling that made its way through your bones.

“Mammon?”

“Yeah?”

“That apology shouldn’t have worked.”

He chuckled, “you’re right.”

You smiled, a true smile. The first one all day. And what came next, you knew probably shouldn’t. But you also didn’t really care.

“Mammon?”

He hummed in response, and you stood as high as you could on your tip-toes to kiss his cheek. His face deeply rouged the moment your lips met his hot skin.

His eyes were wide as you lowered yourself down, leaving a hand lingering on his arm.

In that moment, his aura shifted, and everything was suspensefully still. Within seconds, his arms wrapped you in a crushing hug, his breath heavy and warm behind your ear.

You sunk your weight into his, relishing the relief from the chill of your room, as you snaked your arms behind his back.

You weren’t entirely sure how long you stood like that, but you knew it must’ve been a while, because his grip was starting to affect your breathing.

“Mon- air”,

He lightened up and pulled back from you.

“S-sorry!”

Your lips turned up at the sight of his cute embarrassment. He scowled at you, knowing what you were thinking, but slowly started to laugh.

He leaned his forehead against yours, the sudden proximity causing you to let out a slight squeak.

“Ya drive me nuts, ya know?”

You searched his eyes, trying to make sure he was saying what you really thought he was.

This was a bad idea. For so many reasons.

But truthfully, neither of you gave two shits.

So he ghosted his lips over yours, his left fang biting his bottom, waiting for the sign to move — the sign that you wanted him, the sign that he would be enough.

The second you tilted your nose to the side of his, he crashed his mouth into yours.

From all the “first kisses” with your “first man” that you’d imagined, this was like none of them.

It was so

so much better.

It was fast, it was hard, but it wasn’t rough. It wasn’t brutal. It wasn’t empty. It was a cataclysm of feelings — pent up tension, pent up love.

As he dragged his mouth over yours, he hooked his hands under your legs, lifting you to wrap around him in one, swift movement. Then, he was on the move, backing himself toward your bed until the back of his knees met the mattress, and he collapsed, pulling your legs to straddle his lap. You hadn’t disconnected from his lips the entire time, still fervently needing more of him. You knew he felt the same. The demon of greed would most certainly never have enough of you. He tasted sweet and smelled strongly of an expensive cologne you knew he probably couldn’t actually afford. One of his hands stayed splayed on the top of your thigh, while the other worked to bring you even closer to him (if that was possible), pressing underneath your shirt to the skin on your back, two fingers edging their way into the beltline of your shorts.

He was careful not to take himself too far, to not lose control, and you could tell, so you worked your tongue past his lips. He sucked in a breath as the complete access to your mouth made room for him to deepen his greed for you. Slipping his tongue to meet yours, he nipped at your bottom lip, working his entire mouth in a blissful harmony.

He pulled back, heaving air, seeping desire from every muscle, just enough to speak to you,

“MC… I-I can’t… I can’t handle this... well... for much longer. I don’ know what I’m gonna do to ya…”, he began to pepper wet kisses down your neck, unable to keep himself off you long enough to even hear your reply.

You weren’t sure what else you were expecting, or if you were expecting anything else at all.

You were making out with a demon, after all.

You moved a hand to rake your nails through his frosty hair, and he leaned into the palm of your touch.

“It’s okay. I want you. All of you...”, it was only a whisper, but you were afraid if you spoke too loud, you’d snap the moment in half.

He did nothing but growl before reattaching his lips to yours, bringing his slender fingers to tug up at the hem of your shirt.

“I’m gonna do my best not to hurt ya…” he mumbled on your lips. You simply nodded, running your hands against his abs. He shivered at the contact, before helping you remove his own shirt.

Somewhere in the midst of him sliding on top of you, and the complete sight of the demon boy you had always longed for filling your soul, you heard the faintest of three words. You almost tricked yourself into believing they never entered the air, that they’d never left his lips.

But they were impossible to ignore.

“I love you”.

The sun will (sort of) rise.

The sun will (kind of) set.

You live in Hell, with 7 boys you dearly love,

but one holds you in the palm of his hand.

Mammon will always be there.

That night, he proved that truth to you over, and over again.

fin.

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allsassnoclass · 3 years

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hi hazel I hope you're having a nice day! i was wondering if you could rec me some malum fics? length does not matter. i know I would have probably read most of them but i read most of the malum stuff before i made my ao3 so i can't even remember the ones i read and i would Love to read good ones whether i've already read them or not. i've said 'read' way too many times now avzcfhrb. in any case i would love to see what would make it on a hazel malum rec list! thank you i hope that's not annoying 🥰 -taylor<3

omg taylor did you know that you are the first person to ask me for fic recs like this. i'm very excited tbh. some of my favorite malum fics located below!

every malum rec list i make is going to start with make me a promise here tonight by @calumcest what can I say I just love this fic. so cute and very them yknow.

“Calum,” Michael says, walking into the bunk area and stopping in front of Calum’s bunk. “Cal.”

“What?” Calum asks, not looking up from his phone.

“I think we should get married.”

as for other helen fics, I also rec dancing with the demons (holy spirit, holy spirit), you're already the voice inside my head (i feel like this one might be up your alley specifically), it should be criminal that you could be mine, the first time i've seen love (and the last i'll ever need), and we know this is the way it's supposed to be

(unfortunately I haven't read these ones recently enough to know if there's alc in them or not)

another one of my absolute favorites is i got you right where i want you by @calumsclifford. very cute and sweet, although alcohol warning for the third section

“Next year. I’m going to plan you the cutest fucking anniversary you’ve ever seen in your life.” “It’s just a day,” Michael laughs. “It’s a day that means something, though. Let’s do something big, okay?"

or, 5 times Michael and Calum’s anniversary went wrong and one time it didn’t

also, and i breathe disaster, ever after (the winter soldier au) and it's no coincidence my hand fits perfectly in yours (cute 5+1 Valentine's day)

wake up with by asymmetric is one of my absolute favorites as well

Calum had been under the lights for ten minutes and he was already sweating.

(in which they film a lyric video and familiar things gain new meanings)

Yes, you make my life worthwhile by lumoon33 is nice and cute

"Hey Calum?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you love me?"

i'm loving what you got by asymmetric is also super cute

Michael accidentally (sort of) kisses Calum in Nashville and Calum realizes a few things.

Fallingforyou by ercareyes is also cute

Michael is five years old when he discovers his fascination with love.

Or alternatively:

Michael falls in love every day and falls out of love just as quickly. Calum is always there to catch him.

Love (and other acts of madmen) by TempestRising is actually one of my favorites, but the malum is very light in it due to the circumstances of the fic

...every nerve Michael has is on edge and his brain won't stop screaming Calum Calum Calum and his hands are still red, and there's still blood under his fingernails from where he cradled Calum's body before they tore them apart. "Well honey," the nurse says, "if you've got a god I'd start praying. You might be here a while."

Or: Calum gets shot at a concert.

big fan of @escapesos Peyton's work, today I'm going to shout out sure as hell the happiest i've ever been

“Why Vegas?” Calum asks.

Michael shrugs, trying to play it off but he can’t help the truth slipping out. “It seemed kind of romantic.”

“Gambling and Elvis impersonators are romantic to you?”

malum take a spontaneous trip to vegas. and they get married. spontaneously.

also so say that i'm a rainbow (and tell me that I'm bright)

“Of course I want to, I’d love nothing more than to share what we have with the world. But only if you want to.”

Maybe there’s something familiar in Michael’s eyes that settles Calum. It’s the way he’s looking at him, he thinks, because it’s the way he’s been looking at him since they were 15 and didn’t know what they were doing with anything. The eyes looking back at him are the same eyes he fell for all those years ago. It’s just Michael.

“I want to.”

mali-koa writes a pride song. michael and calum use it to come out.

from Bella @clumsyclifford we have the malum section of spidy!au, latest nostgalgia, or happily ever after

Calum’s not cute.

Well, okay, Calum is cute, but that’s not something a straight guy should be thinking about, and — Michael’s not straight, but he’s trying to keep that particular fact on the down-low, so he can’t really speak to it. Still, objectively speaking, Calum is cute, and Calum is talking, and if Michael were the type to get distracted by cute boys talking, he’d be fucked.

He blinks. Calum’s watching him.

“Sorry?” Michael echoes. “I missed that last part.”

also by Bella, a part of my heart that you'll never change

Then they release an album, and that blows up, and then Calum somehow convinces management that they should go to Brazil for the World Cup, which is weird because Michael is pretty sure they’re scheduled to play the Where We Are Tour for, like, all of the World Cup, except apparently the Switzerland show has been conveniently cancelled (not convenient for the Swiss, though, Michael guesses), and that leaves them with a comfortable three-day window.

They go to Brazil.

i know this whole damn city thinks it needs you is the amazing superhero au by @igarbagecannoteven

But when Calum had become apprentice to the city’s biggest superhero two months ago, a lot of things changed. The main one was their nights. Instead of staying up doing homework and hanging out until they both crashed into their respective beds, Calum would slip out their window to save the day and catch the bad guys, and Michael would lay awake in bed until Calum returned, paralyzed with the fear that some night Calum wouldn’t come back at all.

the creek walk small talk series by @cringeycal is awesome, i love adri's writing style

Seeing a stranger’s footprint in his spot rips apart the imaginary curtain Michael’s woven between his creek and the rest of the world. Right now, he needs that curtain fully intact and drawn tightly shut.

A splash louder than the average rush of the creek comes from off to Michael’s left, downstream. He doesn’t bother looking. He knows who it is.

“Rough day?” asks Calum, sitting cross-legged on the ground next to the log, halfway in the water.

I could sift through works by various other writers we both know to find more but these are the ones coming to mind right now!

#ask #taylor #fic rec #malum #i feel like there's less malum out in the world than there used to be #i feel like people used to write them more #it's probably less that malum isn't being written and more that other pairings have become more popular around it #so malum isn't being written less the others are just being written more #which makes me feel better about having two malum fics in the oven right now #gotta ensure that they're equally represented in current fic stats

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flclarchives · 3 years

Text

Amusing Himself to Death, an Akadot.com interview with Kazuya Tsurumaki (director of FLCL and assistant director of Evangelion) from around December 2001. In the article, Tsurumaki explains a few things about Evangelion, his mentality behind FLCL as a whole, and the meaning of the name ‘FLCL’.

Full article text is under the cut, or read the article in its original form [here].

Kazuya Tsurumaki was a relatively little-known animator when Hideki Anno selected him to work as the assistant director on Neon Genesis Evangelion. For the TV series, which became a smash hit in Japan and one of the touchstones of the current surge of interest in anime in the US, Tsuramaki served as the main storyboard artist as well as assistant director, and when Studio Gainax began production on a trio of Evangelion films Tsurumaki got his first directorial assignment.

As he tells the story, Anno came to him after Eva and announced that he was out of ideas and that it was up to Tsurumaki to dream up the next project because, "you are next." Tsurumaki let his imagination run wild, but by the time he had written a script, Anno - despite his declaration that he had no stories left to tell - was already several steps ahead of Tsurumaki and in pre-production for his next series, Kareshi Kanojo no Jijo, leaving Tsurumaki a chance to have complete and unsupervised creative control of his own series FLCL.

FLCL, referred to as "Fooly Cooly" (or "Furikuri" by its American fans), is unlike any anime series to come before it. Wild, maniacally fast-paced physical comedy; exaggerated, exuberant animation alternately pushing towards surrealist- as when mecha exuviate from a bump on young Naota's head - and deconstructionist - as when the animation literally stops and the story is told by a camera bouncing across a page of black and white manga art panels; and obsessively, often irrelevantly, referential to obscure Tokyo-pop bands and anime insider trivia; FLCL was hyperkinetic and disorienting, yet mesmerizing, almost transgressive, and undeniably original. It inspired enthusiastic admiration for Tsurumaki as a creator, even amongst the perhaps 90% of the series' fans who were absolutely baffled by much of it. One is tempted to refer to it as announcing the arrival of full blown post-modernism in animation, or perhaps as the Exploding Plastic Inevitable of the anime industry.

When Tsurumaki visited Baltimore to speak to American fans at the recent Otokon Convention, predictably, many of the questions were along the lines of, "Hi, I really loved FLCL [or Evangelion], but could you please explain this part of it to me?"

Tsurumaki answered all questions genially with a self-deprecating and often mischievous sense of humor. For example:

Why does Haruko hit Naota over the head with her guitar?

Kazuya Tsurumaki: Naota is trying to be a normal adult and she belts him to make him rethink his decision.

Why does Evangelion end violently, and somewhat unhappily?

KT: People are accustomed to sweet, contrived, happy endings. We wanted to broaden the genre, and show people an ugly, unhappy ending.

Why is the character of Shinji portrayed as he is?

KT: Shinji was modeled on director Hideki Anno. Shinji was summoned by his father to ride a robot, Anno was summoned by Gainax to direct an animation. Working on Nadia [Nadia: Secret of the Blue Water, one of Anno and Tsurumaki's earlier projects] he wondered if he still wanted to work like this. He thought that working on Eva could help him to change.

Is there any particular reason why so many Gainax series feature very anxious, unhappy young male protagonists with no parents?

KT: Yes, the directors at Gainax are all basically weak, insecure, bitter, young men. So are many anime fans. Many Japanese families, including my own, have workaholic fathers whose kids never get to see them. That may influence the shows I create.

Could you explain the mecha bursting from Naota's head in FLCL?

KT: I use a giant robot being created from the brain to represent FLCL coming from my brain. The robot ravages the town around him, and the more intensely I worked on FLCL the more I destroyed the peaceful atmosphere of Gainax.

Why doesn't FLCL follow one story?

KT: In the third episode Ninamori was almost a main character, a kid who, like Naota, has to act like an adult. After episode three her problem was solved so we wrote her out. She has many fans in Japan and we got plenty of letters about that decision. For FLCL I wanted to portray the entire history of Gainax, and each episode has symbols of what happened behind the scenes on each of Gainax's shows. Episode one has many elements of Karekano; episode two, a lot of Evangelion references, etc.

Where does the title FLCL come from?

KT: I got the idea from a CD in a music magazine with the title Fooly-Cooly. I like the idea of titles that are shortened long English words. Pokémon for "Pocket-Monsters" for instance, and an old J-pop band called Brilliant Green that was known as "Brilly-Grilly."

Is there any reason why the extra scenes added to Eva for the video release were cut in the first place? Did you think the story would mean something different with them intact?

KT: The scenes that were added to Eva for its video release aren't that important. We added them as an apology for taking so long to get the video out. Maybe they'll help people understand things, because the episodes were done under tough deadlines the first time around.

Can you explain the symbolism of the cross in Evangelion?

KT: There are a lot of giant robot shows in Japan, and we did want our story to have a religious theme to help distinguish us. Because Christianity is an uncommon religion in Japan we thought it would be mysterious. None of the staff who worked on Eva are Christians. There is no actual Christian meaning to the show, we just thought the visual symbols of Christianity look cool. If we had known the show would get distributed in the US and Europe we might have rethought that choice.

After the panel, Mr. Tsurumaki sat down to speak with Akadot.

Do you enjoy confusing people?

KT: I have a twisted sense of humor. I'm an Omanu Jacku, a contrarian. [Writer's note- Omanu Jacku is a folk character a bit like Puck, a mischief maker]

What do you see differently now that you're working as a director rather than only as a visual artist?

KT: As an animator I have only the art; as a director story is really big. I still feel as an animator and I often have trouble putting the needs of the story first.

Did you intend from the start for FLCL to be as bizarre as it wound up?

KT: From the very start I wanted a different flavor. To achieve this I had to re-train the animators to be as stylized as I wanted them to be because I wasn't drawing it. I knew that not everyone would get it. I deliberately selected very obscure J-pop culture and anime sub-culture jokes and references. Because Eva was so somber I always intended to make FLCL outrageous and wacky.

Why the choice to break out of conventional animation and use manga pages? Was it at all a response to how many anime are using computers to achieve smoother and more realistic visuals? Were you trying to go the opposite direction?

KT: I like manga, not only to read, but the visuals. The pen drawings, the frame breakdowns and layouts . . . This is the first time I have used digital animation, and those bouncing manga shots wouldn't have been possible with cel animation. Personally I'm not interested at all in using computers for realistic animation. I'm impressed by it sometimes, but I'm interested in using computers to do what was once impossible, not to do smoother versions of what has already been done. I want to be less realistic.

Has using digital animation techniques changed the way you work, or the way you feel about your work when you see it? Does it still feel like it's yours if a computer did much of it?

KT: Before I got into digital animation I saw other shows that were using it and I felt that there was no feeling, it was empty. As an animator, there's a sense of release when you draw a cel. There's something there. Working on FLCL, though, I learned that computers can do more, and, most of all, that they allow room for trial and error and revising, more freedom to experiment. That is why I now feel that cel art cannot win against computers. For actual animation everything is still drawn on paper. That work hasn't changed. It's the other stuff, the touchups, and coloring. If we didn't use paper, maybe the feeling would change.

Earlier today you said that you were trying to broaden the genre by giving Eva a sad ending. Does the sameness of much of today's anime bore you?

KT: First of all we didn't use a sad ending to annoy fans. When they're upset, that really bothers us. Personally, I think a happy ending is fine, but not if it is achieved too easily. That's no good.

For all the fans that are confused at all, if you had to define in one sentence what FLCL is about, what would you say?

KT: FLCL is the story of boy meets girl. For me it is also about how it's ok to feel stupid. With Evangelion there was this feeling that you had better be smart to understand it, or even just to work on it. With FLCL I want to say that it's okay to feel stupid.

Even though it may be strange to us, do you have in your head a logic behind it? Are you trying to portray a story that follows the logic of dreams, or is it supposed to make sense symbolically?

KT: I'd like you to think of FLCL as imagination being made physical and tangible, just as it is for me when I take whatever is in my head and draw it.

So what are you working on next?

KT: Right now Gainax has told me that they'll support anything I choose to create, but I'm having trouble coming up with any ideas.

Why is that?

KT: Releasing titles for market, I know I have to make something to please fans, but I'm not a mature enough person to accept that fact. If I'm not amusing myself I can't do it. I feel bad that fans have to put up with such behavior from me. I apologize.

#FLCL #Evangelion #archive.org #Kazuya Tsurumaki #also i can upload the text as a PDF if anyone would like it!#things like these articles make me realize the people who say FLCL is too confusing aren't artists. because as an artist this is cathartic-#-to read. i'd kill to be able to make something as high-strung stylized and full of weird references as FLCL.#and with GAINAX too? holy shit #interview #article

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bansheeoftheforest · 3 years

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I'll have you know that the skull crackening made me cry until I threw up (to clarify, crying did not make me throw up, it was the head injury, and I did so quite a few more times) though to be fair the only thing about the whole incident that upset me was that they refused to let me have my birthday there, smh

Plot twist: They had to revive Jekyll, otherwise Zosi would have killed the lodger that pushed J. The only reason that Lodger is alive today is because Zosi cant open doors 😔 /j

Also? Jasper, Rachel, n Robert not knowing Jekyll died is absolutely horrific and I adore it. Esp f he starts showing some more obvious signs of being dead/rotting 👀. Hey did you know Jekyll made a potion that can give ghost heartbeats. Like canonically? If you count a single deviantart post from probably a decade ago canon. Though that probably doesn't actually matter in this au as he was revived by Frankenstein, and thus his organs are probably actually functioning! That'd significantly decrease rot too I believe

If it isn't too medically possible we can always use the headcanon I invented for Peppermint Rot, That Jekyll's bones are very weak due to constant transformations ❤

Goodness gracious Imagine being the lodger in that situation, like heck. Also I vote the lodgers panicking and being in tears when running to Frankenstein about the incident. No "going into silent shock business" trust me, I have a rather deadpan/lack of emotion when speaking of some important things so my little brother just didn't belive me when I said something had died. I had to prove it. V awkward

Also did any other lodger see it happen/see the body 👀

I vote Helsby pushed him

Mmhm ignore the fact that I want to know why you called me a diet version of you, will you /J

Ugh... Vomiting... I have been lucky enough to never get a serious injury at all, counting away that one time a friend accidentally threw a fist-sized rock straight to the back of my head when I was like... 6... But I did vomit a few weeks ago bc I was a dumb bitch and stressed myself to the point of me throwing up for the first time in over a decade. Fun <3 Although nothing you are saying at this point can convince me that you were even remotely a normal child. You are probably a changling, I'm sure <3<3<3<3 /lh

Honestly? Zosi would have killed him and eaten his corpse if he got the chance. I'm honestly not even doubting that. If church grims ate kids that were just running in a graveyard they sure as hell can kill and eat the people that murdered their master.

It would be terrifying and absolutely traumatising for them when they realize what happen and I love it <3 AndI actually knew that bc you have mentioned it before and I found that post on Sabrina's deviantart! His organs probably would be functioning but I like to believe he takes that potion anyway bc maybe it helps to keep his organs intact and he likes to constantly feel his heartbeat, it's calming for him, even if he wished that it wouldn't be beating at all... Which is v sad </3

Mm... Weak bones, yes pls <3<3<3<3<3<3

I vote for them panicking, cradling Henry's body in complete denial trying to wake him up before realizing that he is completely dead, gone, his brain is literally spilling out onto the floor at this point, his eyes are rolling into the back of his head, they panic and takes Henry's body to Frankenstein who is both absolutely horrified at what they did to Jekyll, but wastes no time in trying to fix it?

Y'know what would be fun? If no one saw it, so only the Lodger/Frankenstein/Creature knows that he is dead. Maybe Maijabi too bc Frankenstein had no choice but to ask him for help so Henry would keep his memories/personality/everything else that isn't physical intact.

Helsby was actually the one I imagined when writing the murder, you read my mind <3

#''I'm sensitive to gore and horror'' I say. Like a fool. Soon getting yet another dead mouse from Percy #and immediately adopting the au and making it as gorey as possible <3 #oh my god I have so many aus to add to my pinned post sdsdfsdf #ask #darling-dolly-darlene #resurrection au #banshees au

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sweetwritertanya · 4 years

Text

Just A Friend

Summary: You and Namjoon have been friends for about two years and you grew feelings for him. But you think it’s unreciprocated. On a vacation which he invites you to come along in, things take a turn.

Warnings: Starts with ANGST and ends with a whole lot of SMUT! Like a lot, so be ready for: swearing, erotic body touching, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex (because of the next listing), impregnation kink, overstimulation, hair pulling, praising, dom!Namjoon, sub!reader.

Requested: YES! The 💒 anon, as they wish to be known, requested this fic. In fact, they provided a lot of detail, especially for the smut, so a lot of props to them! I used a lot of the ideas they provided, so thank them as well! I really hope this is what you had in mind and that you’ll like it sweetie.

Word Count: 4889

Stomping across the bedroom you were staying at, you even consider just picking up your suitcase and leaving. Honestly, you weren’t sure what you were doing here anyway. You had long ago sworn to yourself you would stop hoping for things to change and just give up, but yet, as soon as he asked you if you wanted to tag along you smiled brightly and promptly agreed, heart singing within your chest.

You felt stupid. You felt stupid and angry and rejected. Mostly, you felt hurt and to make matters worse you knew you were the only one to blame. It was you and your own feelings fault.

Namjoon and you have been friends for two years now. You’ve been in love with him for over a year and a half. It brought tears to your eyes, thinking of how much you’ve been pinning for him, how much you wanted him to reciprocate your feelings. But he only saw you as a friend, the chubby female friend that would hang out with him and the guys, introduce them to cute girls or give them advice when it came to women. And that was it.

Two months ago, you decided enough was enough. You would distance yourself from him slowly, just enough to give yourself some time to somehow get over your feelings without having to ruin the friendship. Because, truth be told, you still wanted to keep him close. As much as it hurt to have an unrequited love for him, it hurt more to think of him not being around.

But then he decided to invite you on a trip with the boys to the Alps. He would even pay for the plane tickets and the stay in the ski resort. And he asked so nicely, so excitedly, with that stupid little dimple smile that always melted your heart and all you could do was say yes. You forgo all your plans of getting over him for one last hope that this meant something.

It didn’t. Just as you got ready to go on the ski lessons programmed for this afternoon, you saw Namjoon flirting with one of the female instructors at the entrance of the resort place you were all staying at. It made your stomach turn and left a sour taste in your mouth. You turned around, took off your new windbreaker ski jacket and stomped up the stairs into your room in a hurry.

Taking a few shaky breaths in your room, you decided to light up the fireplace in the room. The plane ticket had the return date scheduled for the day after tomorrow, and even of you went and tried to get it changed so you could leave today, Namjoon had all the plane tickets in his room. You weren’t about to go and ask him for yours.

Struggling to get the flames to cling to the wood, your heard a knock on your door and assumed it was the resort’s staff coming to clean the room.

“No need, thank you” you yelled at the door, huffing at how the fire just wasn’t starting.

“Y/N, it’s me.”

You froze. That was Namjoon’s voice. After considering for a moment to just ignore him completely and carry on as if you didn’t hear him, you sighed and got up. You crossed your arms above your chest and glared at the door with a subconscious pout in your lips.

“I’m not going on the ski lessons, so just leave without me” you informed him in your best detached voice.

“I know, I’m not going either. The boys already left” he responded from behind the door.

“What? Why didn’t you go with them?” you frowned.

“Just let me in, Y/N. It’s awkward talking through a door” he begged, knocking on the door by the end of his sentence.

You hesitated, biting your bottom lips as you remembered him with that woman from before. But then again, why would he flirt if he wasn’t going with them to the ski lessons? Something felt weird about it, so you just launched your arm forward before you changed your mind again and opened the door for him.

He looked as if he had planned to go with the guys, dressed with winter boots, long brown snowboard pants, a turtle neck sweater underneath the blue ski jacket, scarf still around his neck and gloves pocking out from the jacket’s pocket. His short hair was slightly disheveled as if he had a beanie on before.

The moment you saw his concern small brown eyes looking at you, you turned your back and went back to the fireplace, trying to distract yourself from your aching heart with the task at hand before.

“You seemed so excited yesterday about the prospect of going skiing, you went on about it almost the whole plane ride, why did you change your mind?” you heard him asking as he closed the door after stepping inside.

“So were you, so why didn’t you go?” you questioned back, not wanting to answer him.

“I asked you first.”

You sighed, irritated with everything, the conversation, the fireplace that just wouldn’t start, the feelings you had for the man behind you. Everything.

“I just didn’t feel like going anymore, okay? And I’m in a bad mood right now, this stupid fireplace isn’t helping, so maybe you should just go and leave me alone, Namjoon!”

You didn’t mean to yell, but your voice elevated before you could stop it. Giving up on the wood catching fire, you walked away from the fireplace angrily, crossed your arms and went to the window, trying to calm yourself by looking at the beautiful white scenery outside.

“Let me help you with this” he offered, taking off his jacket and scarf, busing himself with the fireplace as you had before.

“Just leave me alone, Namjoon. You know I’m not great to hang around when I’m in a bad mood” you tried to warn him, more so because you really wanted distance from him right now. “You should have gone with them. Maybe you can still catch up.”

“It would have been fun, but even with the bad mood, I prefer your company” he shared.

“Liar.”

You didn’t mean to say it out loud, you honestly thought you had just thought it for yourself, but Namjoon heard you loud and clear.

“What does that mean?” he sounded offended.

You cursed at yourself for not being more careful before turning back to him, eyes set on the large carpet beneath your feet and arms as tightly wrapped around yourself as ever. You tried to think of how to get him to go away without destroying the friendship.

“Nothing. It just makes sense, you’ve been friends the guys for way longer than you’ve known me, why wouldn’t you want to go with them and have fun instead of wasting time here with me? Plus, there was the pretty instructor, who wouldn’t want to go and learn from her?”

You pressed your lips together and kept your mouth from opening again, realizing how saddened you seemed by the last sentence. You needed to keep your feeling at bay.

“So you did went down for the lessons” Namjoon realized, as that was the only way you could have seen the instructor. “What happened, Y/N? Why are you lying to me?”

Hands closing down into fists at your sides, teeth grasping down on your bottom lip as you tried to keep yourself from crying. The atmosphere in the room felt colder than the snow outside. This was probably going to be it. As much as you treasured this friendship and wanted nothing more than to keep it intact, it felt as if you guys were about to fight and things probably wouldn’t be the same after.

“Y/N? Y/N, just talk to me!” It was Namjoon’s turn to grow frustrated. “You’ve been acting strange lately. I don’t know why, but it seems like you suddenly want to get as far away from me as possible, and I feel like I’ve done nothing to deserve that!”

“And you didn’t! You did absolutely nothing wrong, Namjoon, it’s all my own fault, okay?” you barked back, tense arms falling to your sides as you finally gaze back up at him, seeing his own worried but serious stare. “I’ll get over it, alright? I promise, just give me some space.”

“Get over what, Y/N? You’re making no sense!” he continues, irritated, lifting his hands in the air.

“You!” you finally declare.

Your watery eyes can barely stay focused on him as you feel the shame washing over you, after admitting your feelings like that when it was the last thing you wanted to do. But the harm was done now. And as much as it still hurt, a weight seemed to lift off your chest as you confess the deep secret you’ve been keeping for so long.

“I’ll get over you, Namjoon! I’m sorry, I know we’re just friends but…” your voice breaks a bit and you have to look away from him. Only then did you realize he had managed to light up the fireplace, without setting anything on fire, which was a win for such a clumsy guy. It almost makes you smile. Almost. “I’ve had feelings for you for way too long and I don’t think I can get past them without distancing myself from you for a while. I’m sorry, I just-”

Two strides. Two strides is all it takes for him to close the gap between the two of you, an undecipherable look on his unusually stoic square face that you missed as you looked at the ground, before taking your round face into his big hands, forcing you to lift your head just in time for his mouth to capture the words you were about to say.

Completely shocked, your whole body freezes as you feel his fleshy lips clam around yours purposely, hands pulling your face towards him as he keeps pressing his lips further, almost to the point it hurts. All your thoughts clutter in your brain, disabling any rational understanding of what was going on.

When he separated his lips from yours for a split second, you try to speak even as you have no idea what to say, but he doesn’t let you. His hands fall from your face only to go around your back and around your neck, pulling your scrumptious body violently against his own as his parted mouth finds yours and steals the breath you were about to take.

You find yourself closing your eyes, the forceful nibbles he starts around your lips singeing your prickled skin, head still spinning but body giving in completely to him. You lean against him and move your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer as you kissed him back.

He rumbles against your lips when he feels you complacent, sucking on them lightly as he pulls his head back up and looks at you from half-closed dark eyes.

“For how long?” his raspy voice asks.

“Hum?” Your brain is still in short-circuit, eyes heavy and clouded.

He squeezes at one of the lumps at your sides urgently and pulls slightly at the hair at the nape of your hair, trying to grab your attention.

“How long have you had feelings for me?” he demands to know.

You swallow dry at the intensity behind his eyes, your heart beating madly on your chest and your muscles tensing up. A flare of heat rushes to your cheeks as you decided to tell him the truth, too anxious to even try and lie to him when he looked at you like that.

“A year and a half. At least” you add, hesitant eyes jumping between his.

Again, Namjoon almost jumps at your lips and ferociously ravishes at them, smacking them hard together and tracing your soft bottom lip with his tongue. You yelp at the warm and wet touch, and it’s a good thing his hands are keeping you so close to his body since you feel your legs loosing strength as he slips his tongue past your parted lips and swirls it around yours, coaxing you to respond.

You don’t care to know how this is happening. You don’t dare to question if it’s even real or some mad hallucination. You just take it all in, the warmth of him around you, the scent of musk and dew of him mixing with the smoke and fire of the fireplace, the taste of menthol and honey. The feeling of his rough hands holding you close. The small groan he released when you sucked on his tongue and ran your fingernails down the back of his neck.

Not sure how, if Namjoon just couldn’t hold your weight up anymore of if he himself lost his strengths as well, but you felt the world around you swirl and your back hit the floor, the pain only numbed by the hands and arms around you, a barrier between you and the floor.

It knocked the breath out of you, but it was still nothing compared to the way Namjoon bit your bottom lip and pulled it with him as he raised himself up on his forearms, each around your face, legs kneeling around your bulky thighs. He looked exasperated and deranged.

“Two years” he growled, much to your confusion. “I’ve been in love with you for two fucking years and now you tell me I could have had you more than a year ago? Do you have any idea how I feel right now?!”

His face told it all, he didn’t need to say it. Frowned thick eyebrows, creating lines on his tall forehead, thin eyes with a fiery intensity that outdid even the fireplace crackling to your left, full lips set in a straight line as his bottom jaw stood out with how tense he was.

“I never thought you would like me back. I thought I was just a friend” you whispered at him, wide eyes staring with incredulousness at him.

Namjoon dryly chuckles as he closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against yours. When he opened them again, they were calmer and sweeter. Loving.

“How many friends introduce you to all their friends, to their parents and take you out on vacations like this one? How many friends call you every day, say they missed you when you were just together, tell you how beautiful you are every single time?”

“Namjoon, I… I didn’t think-”

“No, you didn’t” he interrupted, his frustration bubbling back up. “And now we wasted two years we could have been together pinning for each other. But no more.”

Reuniting your mouths, this time not only is he kissing you deeply, his hands busy themselves with tracing your full body above your clothes. You can feel them slowly going down beneath your arms, softly groping your lumpy sides, grasping at your wide hips and down your fleshy legs, on the way back up finding themselves beneath the thick hoodie you were wearing.

“I’ve dreamed… about having this body… next to mine for so long” he tells you between pecks at your lips that slowly travel down your neck. You tremble both because of his words and of his cold fingers dipping into your skin, swallowed between the rolls on your stomach. “Thought about all the things I wanted to do to you. How heavenly your body must be and how good I could make you feel if you let me…”

His hands pull your hoodie up at the same time his tongue slips up and down your pulse point on your neck, and you squirm a bit as a light moan leaves you.

“N-Namjoon…” you sigh as you close your eyes, hands blindly clinging to his arms and back.

Growing impatient, you feel him lifting his upper body away from yours and you open your eyes in time to see him strip of his turtle neck, leaving his torso bare for your eyes to take in. The sun kissed skin covering the defined muscles, shadows created by the fire on the fireplace making him look sculptured, hard nipples standing out. He looked breathtaking, and that was the exact effect it had on you.

For your surprise, he actually pulls you up so you are sitting in front of him, his strong legs straddling you, as he pulls at your hoodie with a determined gaze set on you. His demeanor makes you offer no resistance as he removes the article of clothing from your body, leaving you with your bra underneath. But his fingers dance across your back as he leans in to steal another kiss, undoing the hooks and the straps slowly fall from your shoulders. He leans back again just to see as he removes the bra entirely from you, exposing your breasts. Through the orange flickering light of the fireplace you see his pupils dilate.

“So fucking beautiful…” he whispers more to himself than anything. “You are much more beautiful than I ever imagined, angel. Can’t believe it took this long.”

His hands cup your breasts and he feels the weight of them, the roundness of them, thumb brushing your puckered nipples as he did so. Your back arches towards his touch instinctively and he does it again. One hand at your shoulders pulls you back down into the carpet, laying your back to it as his head slowly follows you down and his lips wrap around one of your nipples.

You writhe beneath him and whimper shamelessly as he lavishes on your chest, wetting and sucking your erect globes until you are yelping and clawing at his shoulders and down his back, your legs rubbing together under him in search of some friction. So very slowly, he moves his head down your body, leaving your nipples to swipe his tongue on the underside of your breast, then leaving long wet kisses down your pudgy stomach, hands kneading at the soft flesh.

“You feel so good, Y/N. All softness and warmth, so much to squeeze and hold on my hands.” He tells you as he reaches your belly button, pecking around it which tickled a bit. “I bet you taste sweet too. Let me find out, yeah?”

You gasp as he aggressively removes your pants from your body, as if offended by them. They fly off your wide legs in a second, your socks going with them, and leaving you clad only in your panties. You look down at him with overly hot cheeks and uneven breaths, a tight pull in your lower belly at the thought of what he was about to do.

With a hungry look, Namjoon kisses from your ankles up your legs, hands following his mouth on the outside of your thighs as he moved up. They grasp at your pillowy flesh and pull your legs apart, until he is facing your burning center. You cry out loud when he sucks on your clit through the panties, the unexpected feeling at the sensitive button making your hips jump up, only for his hands to grab you tightly and keeping you in place.

He keeps teasing you through the fabric, much to your frustration, panties growing wetter both from your overflowing juices and from the work of his tongue against them, tracing your slit up and down and lapping at it.

“N-Namjoon, p-please!...” you cry out as the tightness on your womb becomes excruciating and you want - no, you need - more.

“Please what, kitten?” he knowingly asks against your covered mound, the rough voice reverberating against you and you mewl at the feeling. “Tell me what you want.”

“I… I…” your brain spins around in search of the right words, but it’s so difficult to think when he flicks his tongue so expertly around you bundle of nerves. “I want you to fuck me. I need you inside, now, please, Namjoon!”

Your hands hit at his shoulder with how exasperated you are and he chuckles against you.

“Get on your hands and knees for me, kitten, and take off the panties. I’ll give you what you want” he promises.

Hooking your thumbs around the hem of your panties, you pull them off you as you turn around and get on your knees like he asked, turning your ass in his direction as you hear him removing his trousers. You bite your lips and can’t help getting even more aroused as you think about finally having him inside, like you dreamed off so many impish nights.

“So pretty, angel. All pink and glistening for me” he tells you and you feel his fingers opening your folds for him to see. “It’s like you want me as much as I want you” he whispers.

“I do, Namjoon. I d- Ahhh!”

You wanted to turn around and tell him how much you loved him, how long you hoped for something like this to happen as well, but then he grabs both of your ass cheeks in his hands, squeezing the abundant flesh and parting them as he leans in and licks up your exposed pussy, catching you completely by surprise and you almost fall flat on your face, the strength of your arms wavering for a split second.

His hands keep massaging your rump and his head moves up and down your velvet skin, licking away the overflowing juices only for you to replace them instantly, your inner walls clenching down on nothing as he keeps nipping and sucking on your clit and his tongue swirls around your entrance.

“F-fuck, Namjoon, I’m gonna… I’m gonna!...”

Your legs and arms are starting to quiver, the tension of your muscles making you sweat alongside the heat of the fireplace next to you, your heartbeat feeling like it’s inside your skull and the most agonizing knot about to burst from within you.

But then he pulls his lips away from your lower ones and you whine profusely at the loss of the feeling, only to have him kiss around your ass cheeks and up your spine, hands gliding up and down your horizontal body as you feel something hard pocking at your legs. You swallow dry.

“So, so pretty… like a goddess” he murmurs against your skin, leaving kisses between your shoulder blades and hands coming around you to play with your breasts a bit. Your whines have turned into almost sobs at how much you needed release. “I love, Y/N. Loved you for so long.”

You turn your head at that, lust blown eyes staring back into yours before he united your lips for a sweet kiss. As your mouths press together, one of his hands positions his length and in a swift sway of his hip, he enters you. You part your lips away from his as you wail at the feeling of him stretching you, the size of his cock reaching deep within and it almost makes you come undone from the feeling only, hands clawing at the carpet beneath them.

“You’re so tight and slick, kitten! Feels so good, like you were made for me” he remarks, backing his hips up only to thrust them back into yours as deep as he could go. “Were you made for me, angel? Are you all mine now?”

“Y-yes, Namjoon. All yours, please. Please, more” you beg of him.

As he starts picking up the rhythm, his hands are clawing at the sides of your hips, guiding you with him at each lunge, and his kisses travel down your back, until he leans back up and just looks at you from behind. You are whaling his name and digging your nails in the carpet. Your skin is all sweaty and gleaming with the light of the fireplace. Hair is sticking at the nape of your neck and back, and Namjoon goes to brush it away but instead he grabs and tugs slightly on it, at the same time he gets faster. You feel the tip of his cock hitting at your cervix at the same time the sting of him pulling your hair kicks in and it drives you insane.

“Fuck, Y/N, you look so good like this, you take my cock so well” he praises with an out of breath speech. “I’ll bet you look so pretty cumming. Are you gonna cum for me, sweet angel?”

“Namjoon, ahh… Ahhh!...”

His praise and the repeated assault on the sensitive spot on your cervix with the tip of his length finally does it. Your walls convulse and crash down around him, the aching coil inside unfurling and pleasure cascading in waves through your body as you moan out his name, falling to your forearms as you can’t keep yourself up any longer.

Namjoon stops for a moment to let you catch your breath, but it isn’t much longer before he starts moving again, still perfectly erect inside of you, your sensitive walls feeling how hot and throbbing his cock was.

“You look better than my dreams. I dreamed of you like this so much, of seeing you come undone and filling you up with my cum until you can’t take it no more” he confesses, pulling your body up until your back meets his chest.

One of his hands grasp your neck and turns your face to him, so he can leave sloppy hungry kisses on your mouth as he keeps plummeting his cock into your overly sensitive quim. The other moves from your wide hip into your stomach and he grabs the protruding flesh above the place where your bodies joined together, feeling the ripples each plunge created on your skin.

“Namjoon, please!” you sob out, tears from the overwhelming pleasure gathering at the corner of your eyes.

“Please what?” he repeats, kissing down your neck as the hand on your neck moves down to swirl one of your nipples in between his index finger and thumb. Your walls automatically clench around him and he hisses. “Ugh, kitten, if you keep clenching around me like that, I will cum sooner than I want.”

“Please fill me up” you find yourself saying. “I want your cum so bad, I want to be filled by you and just you, please! Please make me cum again.”

You had no idea you had such depraved thoughts, much less that you could say them out loud, but when it came to Namjoon you wanted anything and everything. You felt no shame, in fact you couldn’t help but feel a hint of proudness when he cursed and the thrust of his hips grew quicker, face hidden in your shoulder as he bit down on it.

“Fuck, you like that? When you beg like that it makes me want to give you everything you desire, kitten” he says. “Bet you would look so pretty… Your fertile womb overflowing with my seed, I bet it’s begging for it right now.”

“Yes, Namjoon, yes! Please!”

The hand that was holding your stomach drops down until his fingers rub your clit and he keeps thrusting up into you. Your head falls back into his shoulder as you scream, too much stimuli making your nerves catch fire and the dam breaks. You cum heavenly and violently, your slick heat spasming and tightening around him and sucking him dry as Namjoon’s cock twitches inside and spills out his essence.

Both of you fall into the carpet and Namjoon finds the strength to pull out of you and parting your legs to see your overflowing womanhood, a mixture of your juices spilling out. He smiles and kisses up your arm, one arm stuck under your head and the other around your waist, fingers tracing lazy patterns on the skin of your belly as you both take time to recover.

It’s comfortable to stay where you are for a long time, twenty minutes going by as you lay side by side with the warmth of the fireplace keeping you contented. At some point you rolled over to face him and you both just smile at one another, your fingers coming up to trace over the dimples on his cheeks lovingly.

“I’m sorry I was so rough on our first time together, angel. I didn’t mean to, I envisioned being a lot more gentle” he apologized, one hand coming up and brushing your hair. You shake your head.

“Not at all. It was perfect, Namjoon. With you, everything is perfect” you reassure him.

“I love you, Y/N. I’m so glad we came on this vacation. Even if we end up never going skiing as long as we do this instead” he teases with a smirk.

“I love you too. And next time, let’s not waste the perfectly good bed over there” you point out, finger aiming to the soft bed that was just a few feet away from where you were both laying, on the ground, on top of a carpet.

“You’re right. It was a waste. Let me correct that.”

“Wait, what? Ah!”

A mixture of a yell and a chuckle leaves you as Namjoon pulls you up with him and drags you back into the fluffy bed, intent on more than making up for all the wasted time you both were pinning for each other unnecessarily.

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