#this au is all about: found family. learning to love yourself. and getting two stubborn idiots to kiss and hold hands | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dawn-moths · 2 years

Text

“Sun-kissed Scars”

CHAPTER 3

Tomura x Female Reader

part 1 * part 2 * part 3

wound count: 7,500+

(The summer after graduation, you invite Tomura to come stay with you. Your family welcomes him with open arms, he bonds with your dog, and the two of you become even closer. But most importantly, he finally believes he’s found a place, and a person, to call home.)

disclaimer/content warning: 18+ sexual content! minors dni! this is a combination of fluff, lowkey angst, and, of course, the usual smut, biting, shower sex, sort of public sex (you’re at your house but there are other people there), soft/shy Tomura with a lil spice, etc. I just love writing this version of Tomura, so, while part of me feels like this wraps up my college AU Tomura fic, perhaps I’ll find myself revisiting it sometime in the future. Anyway, please enjoy! :)

*ao3 mirror*

***

The mid-July heat was blistering, the humidity stifling as it fought against the weak breeze that rustled through the trees. Shimmering light reflected up from the inground swimming pool and danced on the underside of the umbrellas that lined the water, a veil of shade cast over one side of the pool that was disappearing more and more as the sun arched overhead in the azure sky.

“C’moooon…” you whined, elbows resting on the ledge as your feet kicked lazily under the refreshing water. “I promise you’ll feel better if you actually get in.”

Tomura just gave a reluctant grumble and threw his head back, fingernails lightly grazing against his neck, face up to the umbrellas. He’d only allowed the lower half of his pale legs to indulge in the pool while he sat on the edge in a t-shirt and swim trunks. “You know I don’t swim,” he sighed, flopping his head forward again to take in the sight of you staring up at him in your cute little sunflower bikini. At least he could blame his reddening face on sunburn this time of year, as his blushing was becoming a more common occurrence at seeing you in all your cute— and oftentimes very revealing— summer fashion.

“Yes you do,” you nudged his knee with your nose, flashing a sly smirk. “You’re just being extra stubborn today.”

And it was true. Several times since summer had began, you’d dragged him into the pool with you, even gotten him to abandoned those graphic tees he always insisted on wearing to avoid being shirtless (it didn’t matter how many times you told him his scars weren’t ugly, that you actually liked them, thought they were attractive even, he still had hesitations in letting others, even if those others were just your parents, see his body that easily), but today he was insisting on being difficult. On being a brat.

“Wonder where I learned that from?” he’d tease when you badgered him about his behavior, flashing his own crooked smirk your way, which usually earned him a nudge, which in turn earned you a pinch on the ass at the very least. In a situation that allowed it, however, it earned you a place up against the wall or on your back with him leaning over you.

It was a trap you were more than willing to fall into. A game you craved more often than not.

Fine then, you thought to yourself mischievously. If he wants to play games, let’s play games.

“Pleeeeaaaase, Tomu…” you whined even more dramatically, pushing up on the ledge to rest your chest on the concrete, pushing your breasts together with your arms and not missing how his eyes immediately magnetized to the sight of them on full display, plush skin wet and sleek from the water. “It’s too hot outside… Come in the pool with me…”

You were giving Tomura that pout again, the one that always made him cave, sooner or later, and he heaved an exasperated sigh to mask that your adorable little puppy dog eyes were getting to him.

“Fine,” he mumbled, pulling his damp shirt from over his head and dropping straight into the deep end. You gasped and giggled as water splashed up, some sloshing over the edge to temporarily dye the concrete a few shades darker, letting go of the ledge and dropping down into the pool up to your neck as you clung to the wall, watching as Tomura quickly rose to the surface and broke through, his pale hair stuck flat to his head and weighed down by the water.

He spit out some water and pulled his soggy bangs from his crimson eyes, blinking a few times to try and keep the chlorine out. “Happy now?” he half growled, half chuckled, wearing that look of sinister satisfaction as he swam closer to lean against the wall of the deep end next to you.

You gave him a peck on the cheek, causing his confidence to falter and his face to burn even redder for a moment before replying with a cheery exclamation of, “Yep!” followed by one of your adorable little giggles.

Even with all Tomura’s complaining about the heat and your itinerary of constant summertime activities, deep down you knew he liked it. He certainly liked seeing you in your array of swimsuits, that was for sure. His favorite one so far was the red one with patterns of butterflies outlined in white. Probably because it was the most revealing of your collection— more string than material, your best friend had joked the day you’d bought it— and made all your curves bounce just right as you came excitedly bounding towards him after running back inside to grab more drinks for the two of you.

And he almost admitted that the pool did indeed feel refreshing, but just then, your mother called from the back deck, “Hey, guys!” poking her head out from the screen door with a smile. “You hungry? There’s snacks inside!”

You quickly asked Tomura if he wanted anything, to which he gave an unsure half shrug, and then you called back, “We’ll be in in a minute!”

Your mom nodded and then disappeared from the deck. You hated for him to have to abandon the water after finally convincing him to get in with you.

“Hey…” you then said to Tomura, beginning to tread water a little further from the ledge. He gave you an inquisitive look and then you flashed another playful smirk, saying, “Race ya to the shallow end!” before taking off swimming as fast as you could.

Tomura loved a challenge. You knew that well from experience by now. If you could find a way to make things into a game, that oftentimes helped you break though his stubborn streaks, which you’d gotten very good at doing. So it was no surprise when he was right on your tail, pushing off from the wall to give himself a quick speed boost, tagging the railing of the steps in the shallow end first as the long reach of his stroke passed you.

“I win,” he scoffed, finding it both amusing and adorable how hard you’d tried to beat him when you’d never stood a chance, even with what you’d hoped would be a head start.

“Nuh-uh!” you protested playfully as you sunk lower into the water. “You cheated!”

“Not possible,” he shook his head, trying and failing to suppress a grin. “Not my fault you’re not good at playing to your advantages.”

“And just what, exactly…” You lowered your voice to a more seductive tone, slowly rising from the water and wading towards him where he sat on the pool steps, coming to stand between his legs as you placed your hands on his shoulders, eyes half lidded and honey-toned voice sending another wave of heat through him, “...would you consider to be my advantages?”

You never got tired of seeing the poor boy tongue-tied over you. Whether it was the way his throat bobbed with a particularly hard swallow or his vibrant eyes widened with shock at how much audacity someone like you— someone who’d once seemed so innocent and pure at first glance— could contain, you savored every single expression and reaction like the sweetest reward.

Because his surprise was always so short-lived, ever fleeting like the summer breeze, before Tomura regained his senses enough to reassume control— over you and himself— and turn the tides back in his favor.

“You’re being such a brat today…” he growled, cracked lips curving into something a little more dangerous as he gripped your hips, fingers digging into your slippery skin as he tugged you closer to him and earning a startled gasp at the sudden jolt of nearly falling forward. You were practically sitting on his lap now, your core pressed against his thigh, causing that coil in the pit of your stomach to wind a little tighter.

“Wonder where I learned that from,” you mocked him with his own words, though your voice was a little more breathless than biting this time around.

Tomura pressed his lips to your ear, now causing your face to turn red as he whispered in that raspy, threat-implying tone of his, “You may have gotten me in the pool, but you’re the one who’s gonna get wet…”

Before you could even get a single scolding whine of his name out, as if you two didn’t mutter things like that to each other all the time now, his mouth latched onto your neck, nipping at that sweet spot near your shoulder and making you shudder, the haze of the season’s heat and his own teasing ministrations quickly becoming overwhelming.

“My mom…” you sighed, trying to keep your voice low as Tomura gently teased at your sensitive flesh with his wet pink tongue, breath fanning hot against you. The warmth of his mouth was a stark contrast to the coolness that the pool water had given your skin, but it only made the sensation all that more pleasant. “She could come out any second…” you continued to remind him, hoping you could get all the words out before your brain overheated and shut down. “We should… We should go inside…”

But, if Tomura could hear you through your breathy whispers, he didn’t appear to care. The only indication he gave that he’d been paying any attention to a single thing you’d just said was when you felt his breath against your ear again as he mumbled, “I know you like the risk… So just sit still and take it.”

You buried your face in his shoulder to muffle a moan as he pulled your hips harder down onto his thigh, effectively grinding you against him and sending a pulsing pleasure through your aching core.

Your mom was just inside. If she so much as glanced out the kitchen window, which you could see the shades were only partially drawn over, she wouldn’t get a full view of you two, but enough of one to indicate what was going on.

“T-Tomura, please…” you begged, actually beginning to grow anxious. But he only smirked against your neck as he teased you further, just about to slip a finger through the bottom of your bikini to really make you squirm. “Not here… Please, we can go inside… Just not here…”

You both looked over at the screen door flinging open as your dog came bolting out into the backyard, you jumping from Tomura’s lap just as fast and sinking low into the water, your back pressed to the concrete wall of the pool as your heart hammered in your chest.

Too close, you thought to yourself with half dread, half exhilaration. That was way too close!

And who would it be to interrupt you this time but your dad. He stepped out to make sure the dog wasn’t digging by the fence again and when he saw Tomura sitting on the pool steps he waved and called over to him.

“Sure is a hot one today!” your father remarked with the usual pleasant smalltalk, his shirtsleeves already rolled up to his elbows. “That pool stayin’ cool for ya!”

“Yeah, Dad!” you called back, popping up from where you’d been half hidden below the ledge. “Feels great!”

Your dad said something about barbeque for dinner before nodding to himself and heading inside, whistling loudly to call your dog back from the yard and leaving you and Tomura in a tense sort of isolation before the two of you dissolved into nervous chuckles.

You then migrated back to his side, sitting next to him on the steps close enough so that your legs could rest against each other. “Come on,” you finally said once your anxious little giggles ebbed a little. “Let’s shower off and then head inside.”

***

“Are you serious?” Tomura had asked, wearing that wide-eyed stare with the hood of his sweatshirt pulled over his disheveled hair.

You’d been thinking about it for a while— inviting him to come spend the summer after graduation with you— and had gone to bed the previous night with all the details more or less secured in your mind.

A couple weeks back, you’d brought the idea up to your mom, mentioned it casually, hypothetically even, just to see how she’d react. When she’d seem willing to hear you out and consider the proposition of letting your boyfriend— the boyfriend she still had yet to meet— come spend a few months at your place (you’d briefly told her that Tomura didn’t have the best home life, from what you could gather) well, she’d come around eventually. And you knew that once you had your mom’s permission, your dad would be a piece of cake.

“Did you ask your mother?” he’d questioned with a raise of one eyebrow when you’d brought it up to him. After you told him that she’d said it was ok with her, your father’s worry seemed to dissipate and then he’d agreed, though of course couldn’t help but give the passive-aggressive “I hope this boy knows his boundaries” talk which was merely obligatory at this point.

Now all you needed now was for Tomura to say yes.

“Of course I am,” you’d assured him. “Besides, don’t you think it’d be fun? We can hang out by the pool and you can meet some of my friends from back home and there’s some really good restaurants in town, too.”

In truth, you’d already composed a detailed list of things you wanted to do with him when— if— he agreed to accept your offer. Your favorite ice cream place was an absolute must, and you’d made sure to inform him that, until he tried one of the establishment’s specialty flavors, he hadn’t truly experienced real ice cream.

As you went on and on about what a good time the two of you could have, Tomura just listened with a relatively blank expression on his face. You were starting to get worried that he wouldn’t buy it, that perhaps you’d already overwhelmed him and scared him off, but he just wanted to enjoy the sight of you rambling on about all the time you wanted to spend with him.

He wanted to see how long you would go, fighting off a smirk all the while.

“I mean, is it your dad…?” you’d finally asked, your disappointment beginning to settle in. “Would he not let you or—?”

“He’s not my dad,” Tomura was quick to correct, rigid fingers ready to claw at his neck after finally breaking his silence. “And he doesn’t really have a say in where I go or what I do. He’d probably be glad to be rid of me for a while…” Now it was your turn to listen, to watch him become increasingly more tense as he side-stepped around the full truth of his own homelife, a slight scowl twitching at his sparse eyebrows.

All you knew up until that point was that Tomura hadn’t been in contact with his real family for a long time, perhaps since early childhood, but had been taken in by a distant relative who’d been in it for the government issued child support money more than anything. He didn’t like talking about him. In fact, you didn’t even have a name to refer to this suspicious “guardian” by. You just knew that this man put Tomura under incredible pressure to succeed, having hinted on more than one occasion that your boyfriend was to become his successor one day, whatever that meant.

“So, what’s the problem then…?” you lightly pressed once Tomura was done rambling about how he could do whatever he wanted, that he wanted to come say with you even, yet still appeared as if something was holding him back.

He looked into your eyes then, his own gaze uncharacteristically sincere as he admitted, “What if your family doesn’t…” He let out a frustrated sigh, averting his stare to where his fingers nervously fidgeted with his hoodie drawstrings now. “What if your family doesn’t like me?”

“Tomu…” you smiled sadly, taking his hands in yours to cease his fidgeting. “Please, if that’s what this is about, don’t worry about it. You think I haven’t told them about you? I mean, they’ve been dying to meet you.” You rolled your eyes and your smile widened. “If anything, you not coming to meet them would let them down at this point.”

You gave Tomura a moment to process that, his own adorable brand of relief washing over his features now. He bowed his head to rest on your shoulder, pulling you a little closer and holding you to him for a second before mumbling into your shirt, “Ok…”

“Ok?” You almost thought you’d misheard him. Then you beamed, “Ok! Great!” as you wrapped your arms around him and hugged him a little tighter, a giggle bubbling up from your lips. “It’ll be fun! I promise!”

Tomura then leaned forward a little more to shift you onto your back, finally allowing a small smile to show on his chapped lips as he looked down at you, your hair splayed around you on the dorm couch, a halo for his angel.

“Yeah…” he quietly agreed. “Fun…”

And that was the last the two of you talked about it that night before the only sounds you could make were moans of each other’s name.

***

The outdoor shower had been one of your father’s last minute DIY projects a few summers back, but it had turned out nice, despite how much trouble the plumbing had caused him (you’d never heard him utter the words “son of a bitch” or “this god damn thing” more times in your life).

It was enclosed with four walls, got decent water pressure, and was the perfect temperature for this time of year. Normally, you’d rinse off quickly after calling it a day by the pool, knowing you’d take a proper shower later on to wash the chlorine from your hair, but today was a little different.

“Hurry up!” you whispered urgently, ushering Tomura inside the stall with you. He’d checked over his shoulder to make sure no prying eyes were keeping tabs on what the two of you were getting up to out here and then you’d pulled him the rest of the way in by his wrist, making sure to close and lock the door behind him. The stall was easily big enough for two people but still enclosed enough so that neither of you could wander too far. Not that you wanted to…

The moment a steady stream of water began to pour from the showerhead, Tomura was on you, chest inches from your back, his hands resting on your hips, fingertips digging into your slippery flesh once again as he tugged you against him.

“Someone’s especially needy today,” he teased, slowly running his touch up and down your sides, sending a shiver through you despite the summer heat. He leaned in closer, lowering his voice into that seductive growl that made you melt and murmured, “What’s got you so hot and bothered, huh?”

You, you wanted to inform him defiantly. You and your pale skin and scars and wet hair and the way you keep running your crimson eyes up and down my body hungrily, like it’s only a matter of time until you just can’t hold yourself back anymore…

But instead what you muttered out was, “Wouldn’t you like to know…” as you pressed harder against his bare chest, arching a little to grind your ass against where he was already straining in his swim trunks and feeling him flinch from the sudden pressure.

You two were always playing games together, with or without a controller or console to entertain you. Tomura would never admit it either, but he’d give up gaming for life if it meant getting to have you like this all the time, in barely anything at all and more than happy to quell the aching in his cock.

“You should really watch yourself…” he warned, tone still raspy and threatening. One of his hands kept your body anchored against him while the other continued to travel higher, slipping under your bikini top and pinching one of your already stiff nipples, giving it a twist until you yelped. Instantly, he reached up to cover your mouth and muffle the sound. “Wouldn’t want your parents to find out their daughter is a needy little slut, now would we?”

You had half a mind to bite him for that comment.

As his deft fingers went back to work at pinching and rolling the sensitive buds of your flesh, you fought to bite back whimpers and moans, your eyes beginning to roll as the hand that once gripped your hip slipped under the bottoms of your bathing suit to toy with your clit. Tomura felt you tense and then begin to go slack against him, your legs trembling slightly from the vicious attack on your most tender areas.

When he began to nip and suck at your neck, you bit your tongue, a strangled whine escaping your throat but not getting past the confines of your palm as you covered your own mouth, your other hand reaching behind you to weave through Tomura’s wet hair and pull, both a warning and a reward for his ministrations.

He groaned against your neck, the sound vibrating on your skin as you began to writhe against him. It was becoming too much. How much time had even passed? You didn’t want your mom to look outside and get suspicious. But you didn’t want Tomura to stop either. Not when you were so close. You’d have to get him back for this later.

“Tomu—!” you finally gasped, uncovering your mouth to reach your other hand behind you, clawing at him until he slowed down a little. “Please… I-I’m gonna—” Your feeble pleas were cut off with another shuddering gasp when he plunged two of his fingers into your dripping hole, his other hand going for your neck and just resting there, feeling your pulse hammering against his palm.

“How long do you think it’ll take…” he asked, pumping his slender digits in and out of you, slowly stretching you open every so often just to feel you buck back against him weakly as you attempted to chase that sweet sensation, “…for someone to come out here wondering where we went?”

You were going to get him back for this. Make him wish he hadn’t caught this arrogant streak he seemed so determined to ride today. But for now all you could do was latch onto him and huff out short, panting breaths, trying to swallow your cries, helpless to his fingers working ceaselessly in and out of you, curling just right to nudge at that spongy spot deep inside.

It was only after he felt you constrict tightly around him, your abused hole fluttering relentlessly, wishing it had something bigger and longer to squeeze around, that he found the will to slow down.

Slow down, but not stop.

“You want it, huh?” he asked, his assertiveness turning a little more tender as his touch became a serious of methodical strokes, rubbing gentle circles on your puffy clit and feeling your sex pulse with the need for more.

“Please…” you panted. “Please, Tomu… need you.”

He sighed out a satisfied hum, pulling the drawstring on his trunks to let his cock spring free.

You felt his erection rub against your ass through your bikini bottoms, once again arching your back to push back against him harder.

His grip on your hips tightened then, grinding against you hard enough to force a strangled groan from his throat, trying to swallow the end of the sound.

“Take them off,” you directed as you leaned against the shelf that was supposed to hold shampoo and body wash, effectively bending over. For a second, Tomura just looked at you, fisting his own cock for a few stokes before catching on and tugging the strings of your bikini bottoms, the soggy material falling to the ground and exposing your glistening cunt to him in full.

You glanced over your shoulder as his hands found your hips again, both your gazes glazed over with lust.

“Just be nice, ok?” you said with a shy smile, a little afraid that he might insist on continuing with his more risky attitude and actions now that he was in the mood.

But he nodded, his grip softening a little as his face flushed a deeper shade of scarlet. “I will…” he promised, beginning to slowly rub himself against your soaked slit.

You held on tight to the shelf, praying that your father hadn’t cut any corners when it came to securing it to the wall of the stall if things started to get a little out of hand. You doubted you’d be able to come up with a convincing enough lie of how it had broken if that were to happen.

By the time Tomura was beginning to push inside you, the head of his cock giving you that sweet sting of the stretch, you were fighting to stay quiet, mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut, gritting your teeth sometimes as you tried to contain your whimpers and whines.

He was struggling to stifle his pleasure too, burying his face in the crook of your neck to muffle his own moans as he gave a few more short thrusts into you, working his way deeper inch by inch.

“Fuck…” he swore in a choked whisper, burying himself to the hilt with the next thrust and feeling your walls constrict around him as you tried to adjust.

Once you were ready and he began moving, you almost broke your silence, beginning to cry out until he clapped another one of his big, rough hands over your mouth.

That time, and completely by accident at that, you did bite him.

It surprised you both, and while your eyes went wide and apologetic, Tomura wasn’t in a position to see the expression of guilt.

Instead, he let out a curt, cold puff of amusement, holding his palm against your mouth harder and picking up the pace, the wet slapping of his skin on yours nearly louder than the sound of the shower.

You went to say something, scold him probably, but all that sounded was incoherent hums behind his hand.

When Tomura latched his mouth onto your shoulder and retuned the gesture with his own teeth, tears began to prick at your eyes, your throat bobbing as you tried to swallow down the pain, the pleasure that came with it wracking through your body until it all became too much and your entire being tensed, squeezing around his length and causing him to bite into you harder— hard enough to draw blood— and growl against your salty skin as he released himself into you, both your cum dripping from between your legs and swirling down the drain.

Only once the two of you had come down from your orgasm did he pull out of you, catching you as you nearly lost your footing and slumped back against him like a rag doll.

“‘M sorry…” he murmured, lowering you to the floor of the stall with him and kissing the wound he’d created, letting you lean against his chest and catch your breath. His lips were stained red with your blood for a moment before he licked it away, feeling a little guilty once the copper hit his tongue and stuck to the back of his throat.

“D… don’t…” Don’t be, you’d meant to say. But you were too spent, legs feeing like jelly and entire body buzzing with that blissful sensation that always came afterwards, head lolled to one side.

Tomura knew he’d have his coming to him for a stunt like that, but it was worth every ounce of your vengeance just to see that blissed out look painted across your flushed face.

Once you were able to stand again, you picked your bikini bottoms up from where they’d been discarded and refastened them to tie on both sides of your hips, making sure any and all lingering arousal had washed off of you before you dared exit the stall.

“My dad’s gonna kill you if he sees this,” you half-joked, straining to try and see the very visible imprint of Tomura’s teeth you knew was marking your shoulder, a little too afraid to touch it. “You know that right?”

But Tomura just smirked to himself, placing another kiss over the bite, swiping his tongue along it gently to lap up the slowly forming beads of blood before replying with a teasing, “Think twice next time you force me into that pool then.”

You turned to face him, wearing an expression you hoped read as a warning, but instead probably just looked pathetic and tired. “Shut up,” you sighed before smashing your lips against his, taking back some of your power in this push and pull game when you snagged his lower lip between your teeth and heard a quiet gasp escape him.

You two were all teeth and tongues then, and you could taste some remnants of your blood in his spit, but the moment you broke away, you gave him a light shove back, watching as his back hit the wall of the shower and he couldn’t help but stare at you with that mesmerized, wide-eyed look of his.

“Hurry up,” you beckoned over your shoulder, exiting the stall and parroting his own words back to him again, “Wouldn’t want them to wonder where we went.”

***

With towels slung over your shoulders, the two of you skimmed some snacks from off the table, thanking your mother and saying you’d come back out for more after you changed into some clean clothes. Your fingers were lazily intertwined with Tomura’s as you lightly tugged him along after you, his free hand going back to snag one more bite of something sweet before committing to following.

You tried to contain your giggles as you entered your room and pulled the door closed behind you, planting another peck on Tomura’s cheek before heading over to rummage through your dresser drawers for something clean and dry to wear for the rest of the evening.

You knew how much he liked seeing you in those short little sundresses you had a habit of flaunting this time of year, having recently added a few more to your collection after dragging Tomura along to the mall for a shopping day with some of your girl friends shortly after you two had arrived home after graduation. But you also were in the mood to make him work for his rewards a little harder than usual after his stunt in the shower, so for now you opted for a crop top and a pair of shorts.

“What do you wanna watch tonight?” you asked casually, your back still turned to him as you reorganized one side of your drawer. When he waited a little too long to answer, you turned and caught him absentmindedly staring off into space, short nails grazing at his neck where some recent scratches had scabbed over. “Tomura,” you addressed him a little more sternly.

His crimson gaze flicked to you, darting to the bite mark on you shoulder for a moment before freezing, eyes wide and alert. “What?”

You sat down on the end of your bed and patted the space next to you, beckoning him to come sit, which he did.

“What are you doing?” he asked through a bit of a scoff. It wasn’t until you reached into your bedside drawer and pulled out a bottle of lotion— your favorite one that was scented with citrus and bergamot to help calm you— and popped open the cap that he realized.

“Hold still,” you instructed him, your voice slipping into something less strict and more caring.

You rubbed your hands together to help warm the lotion and then began to massage it into his neck and shoulders, working out any knots when you found them, and could feel some of the tension leaving him after he let out a particularly long, deep sigh.

The two of you had gotten into this routine more and more as summer went on, usually at night right before bed when he was playing video games (he’d brought his PlayStation to your house and hooked it up to the TV in your room first thing when he’d arrived) and you were preparing to wind down and cuddle up to him until he finished his level or his match, usually beginning to doze off against his chest or his shoulder until he saved and exited and turned off the TV, snuggling up to you under the blankets.

Tomura still itched, even with the regular lotion treatments and 100 SPF sunscreen that you made sure he wore if the two of you were going to be outside for prolonged periods of time. You could only imagine the torture of it all— the constant twitching and writhing and sometimes straight up jolting when a particularly sudden and intense itch stabbed into his skin. But, even though he grumbled and groaned at you for your constant worry over his condition, Tomura was secretly grateful for your diligent and gentle care.

You were the only one who could soothe him, whether by your fancy scented lotions or just your soft touch alone.

“Better?” you asked after having worked the lotion down his back and arms, over his chest and abdomen while he sat there, eyes closed and body relaxed, as if mediating.

His eyes slowly fluttered open, as if he’d nearly fallen asleep, and a small, crooked smile quirked up on his chapped lips. “For now,” he nodded, leaning forward to give you another kiss, passing his smile onto you as you traded him some of your strawberry chapstick.

“Good,” you said, pushing off from your bed to stand, tossing him the t-shirt he’d been wearing that morning before the pool which had been draped over the back of your desk chair. “Now, how about we go grab a little more to eat?”

***

Touya was jealous.

He was so jealous.

And watching his loser of a roommate get to leave with a girl far too pretty for anyone’s good, let alone someone like Tomura, after graduation was, well…

That was just the icing on Touya’s spiteful, envious cake.

Because he had to go back home to a strict and controlling household where it would all be about applying for jobs and working the summer away at whatever gig his father forced him into until his “no good son found a real career path”.

But Tomura…

Tomura got to lie poolside next to you and float through the season like he was in a dream. Like he was in heaven alongside an angel, the sky and clouds reflecting off the rippling surface of the water you two drifted across.

And Touya couldn’t stand it.

“Yeah, have fun…” Touya shot back with scorn as you and Tomura exited their dorm for the last time, all his bags packed which you were helping him carry to your car. Then, under his breath as the door swept closed behind he muttered, “Hope you fuckin’ drown in the deepend, dude…”

And that was it.

That was the last goodbye between Tomura and his asshole of a roommate.

Now you two were free.

You could roll the windows down and just drive, Tomura smiling to himself as you sang along loudly to your playlist, hair whipping around wildly in the late spring air while you zoomed 80 down the highway.

He felt so lucky.

And you felt so relieved.

Because the deal was sealed.

You’d been able to convince your mom to let your boyfriend come spend the summer, after so much worry that she’d shut the idea down before half the proposition could even leave your mouth.

At first, her answer to your suggestion had been a skeptical raise of her eyebrows and her hands on her hips— a look that clearly read as an “are you serious?” if not a blunt “no, absolutely not.” But then, the more you’d told her about Tomura, about how good he was to you, how much you loved him, she’d began to soften.

“Ok, but he sleeps on the couch,” she’d attempted to compromise.

“Mom.” Then it was your turn to give her that look. “He’s not sleeping on the couch.”

Your mother had then gone into one of her rehearsed speeches, this one about how if he was going to be a guest in their home he’d follow their rules and blah blah blah…

So you cut in and told her that the two of you had already slept together, and on multiple occasions, at that.

Ultimately, that earned you another look before she sighed and reminded you to “just be safe”, which you assured her you were. All that mattered though was that, in the end, you’d gotten your way, just like always.

So, speeding towards your home, the destination but a few hours away, and already fantasizing about all the fun you and Tomura were going to have and how you wanted to get to know him even better…

As far as you were concerned, summer had already started.

“They’re gonna love you,” you’d reassured Tomura as you pulled into your driveway, your hand on his as his nerves had started to get the better of him after you’d informed him it would only be a few more minutes, his fidgeting and scratching taking up again. “Don’t worry.”

And, before the day was up, Tomura was relieved to find that your family was much more warm and welcoming than what he’d grown up with.

By the time the two of you fell asleep in each other’s arms that night, he knew he’d always have a home, so long as he was with you.

***

“So, Tomura…” your father began in that nonchalant yet somehow still slightly skeptical way of his, “my daughter here tells me you majored in computer science…”

“Video game design, Dad,” you corrected him in between bites of home grilled barbecue.

“Video game design,” your father amended, cutting another piece off of his chicken and piercing his fork into it. Then he considered Tomura from across the table a little more thoughtfully then, eyes gleaming with a gentle curiosity rather than distrustful intimidation like you’d originally feared the first time Tomura had met your father face to face. “Are ya workin’ on anything then?”

Tomura forced himself to swallow down his current bite, throat bobbing a little with nerves at answering the question incorrectly, as if there was such a way to do so.

Though you’d assured him that your family was merely interested to learn more about him, not interrogate him, he was still having a little trouble opening up, even if it was just about the rehearsed smalltalk that most parents forced their children’s partners to endure. “Uhh… Well my senior project was a dark fantasy action RPG…” he began. “We were only supposed to design three complete playable levels, but…”

“But Tomura designed five,” you bragged on his behalf after his sentence trailed off. You shot him a sly smirk and nudged his ankle under the table again, this time leaving your foot there to rest against his. “He’s talented like that.”

“Is that right?” your father inquired with an intrigued raise of his eyebrows.

“He let me play them,” you continued, finding great joy in the fact that Tomura’s ears were beginning to turn a little red. You never missed an opportunity to praise his accomplishments because, well…

Because he never really shared the things he was proud of with anyone.

You were trying to help him change that.

“They were really difficult,” you continued with enthusiasm, remembering how horribly you’d lost that first level over and over again yet had been determined to complete it, as if it would gain you some kind of gamer approval from your boyfriend. You were also remembering how you sat in Tomura’s lap with the controller settled in your hands, leaning back against his chest and taking his hints and pointers the best you could. “But I beat them eventually.” And once you had, he’d rewarded you for your perseverance and victory with his hands and his tongue exploring all the places that made you squirm with pleasure.

It was then that your mother chimed in, both your parents asking more specific questions regarding Tomura’s major, which then led to him opening up a little more about his love for games in general. Even if most of the terms were merely odd combinations of letters to your parents— MMO, FPS, RTS, etc.— you’d come to learn all the lingo through Tomura.

It kind of felt like a secret language between you two in the company of those less versed in that world and that was something you took an odd sense of pride in. Plus, you liked seeing Tomura get passionate, the way his eyes widened with his smile as he shared facts about everything from code to character design.

“And what about your parents, Tomura?” your mother then asked. You knew it had been innocent enough, not meant to cause such a shift in mood from a sweet topic to a sour one.

But now you could practically feel Tomura tense in his chair beside you, despite only making physical contact with his ankle. So you did the only thing you could think to do.

“Oh my gosh!” you exclaimed, standing from the table after strategically checking the time on your phone, the evening nearing eight o’clock. “I’m sorry, Mom, but we have to go! We won’t make it to the ice cream place in time if we don’t leave now!”

Tomura gladly took the convenient cue to flee the table, thanking your parents for dinner once more before trailing after you back to your room to grab your shoes and rush out the door.

***

“Sorry about that…” you muttered with minor embarrassment as the two of you walked hand in hand, the neon lights of the ice cream bar blinking from down the block. The air had cooled down by now, giving a much needed reprieve from the stifling heat and humidity as a breeze wove itself through your hair and over your sun-kissed skin.

“Don’t worry about it…” Tomura assured you, giving your hand a light squeeze. “They were just asking. Anyway,” he shrugged, “it’s not like they know about everything…”

“Still though,” you said, leaning a little closer into his side while you two walked. “I don’t want you to ever feel like...” you have to be ashamed.

All he gave in response was a soft hum before kissing the top of your head, wrapping his arm around your waist to keep you close to him.

You two walked along in silence for a little while longer until you told him, “You know that, no matter what, you have a home here, right?”

You have a home with me wherever we are.

He gave a short, barely detectable nod, and you weren’t sure whether he was trying to convince you or himself that he believed those words.

“I know,” he finally confirmed after you looked up at him wearing that concerned expression that reminded him how much he wanted to protect you, be the shoulder you could lean on like you’d been for him so many times before.

And you smiled then. Pure and sweet, the kind that Tomura still had trouble feeling worthy of.

But the more and more he was exposed to your honey-warm grin, the lilting chirp of your laughter, the velvet touch of your skin, the more he found himself leaning into those softer emotions of his own. Falling back and sinking in deep, allowing himself to be swallowed by it, allowing it to engulf him and carry him wherever it pleased.

Back to you, always, he realized.

It always carried him back to you.

“I was serious about what I said earlier though,” you then reminded him, picking up your lazy stride to a more determined pace. “The place really does close at eight. And I’m not letting you go all summer without trying the best ice cream ever.”

So, after you both had two double scooped waffle cones in hand, stealing a taste of each other’s favorite flavors when they started to melt too fast, you returned home, retreating safe and sound to your bedroom where your dog came bounding in to jump on your bed and snuggle with Tomura.

She’d have to share though, since you needed Tomura’s hands on you too, needed them to rub that sweet spot on your ribs that could, and often did, lull you to sleep.

You made it halfway through the movie you two had picked out this time, at least, before the both of you were all wrapped up in your blankets, in each other, dozing off after another summer’s day spent together.

And the best part of it all?

That you’d get to do it all again tomorrow.

Together.

Always together.

***

(Thank you for reading! I just had to write something for the summer season, and I’d been missing my college AU Tomura. I just love soft, shy, awkward Tomura so much, though I definitely gave him a little more confidence this time around ‘cause, well, ‘cause I guess I just can’t help myself haha.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. Like I said in the beginning, this could technically be what wraps up this particular AU. But who knows, I might find some way to revisit it again.

Hope you’re all having a good summer <3 )

#guess who finished this earlyyyyyyy~#tomura mha #tomura shigaraki #bnha tomura #tomura x y/n #tomura shigaraki x reader #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia fanfiction #my hero academia #my hero academia fanfiction #mha #mha x reader #mha x you #mha tomura #bnha #bnha x you #bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction

27 notes · View notes

feralrunaway · 3 years

Text

Yrsa

Summary: A supernatural AU from this prompt: “Berserker Captain Syverson, and ‘I want to hear you beg for it’.” from @mrsaugustwalker’s Great Writing Challenge.

Pairing: Berserker!Sy x fem!reader

Word Count: 6k+

Warnings: Blood, gore, violence, wild historical inaccuracies, mentions of slavery, SMUT, soulmates, primal sex, rough sex, oral sex, claiming/mating (consensual), dominant male, virgin reader, unprotected sex, bodily fluids, there’s probably more, just like…this fic is 18+, okay?

A/N: Okay so this prompt was originally meant to be just a quick, smutty “Hell yeah, Viking warrior Sy!” thing but noooo, I went completely off the rails with this so I’m just going to apologize in advance. I started writing this intending an inclusive second person perspective, but I did end up including some things that will not resonate with all. This is nothing like what I usually write, PLEASE heed the warnings. So, without further ado…let’s get weird.

———————

“I want to hear you beg for it.”

The man leered at you, the stench of his rotten teeth reaching you even through the bars of the makeshift prison fitted to the back of the slaver’s wagon. He cackled at your deep glare, holding the small tray of hard bread and day-old vegetables just out of reach.

“Got us another stubborn one. Don’t worry, pretty girl. You’ll come around soon enough, yeah? They always get hungry eventually.” He pawed at your ankle through the bars and you growled, kicking out at him but narrowly missing, and he cackled again. “Give it time, little bear. You’ll be begging for me to come back soon enough.”

You bared your teeth at him as he left, stubbornly refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing you beg. You would rather starve to death than bend to the will of your captors.

“So feisty still. Don’t worry, yrsa. They will tire of the taunting when you give them less sport.”

You looked to the woman on your left. Likely a great beauty under normal circumstances, her long thick braids were slightly disheveled, her fine blue shift covered in smears of dirt indicating she had put up a fair few struggles herself before adopting the bored expression she now held. She gave off an air of strength, even in the cramped, miserable quarters of the cage. Fierce features and a regal air made you desire to lean into her strength, however feigned, but you resisted.

You huffed and threw yourself back against the bars before drawing your arms around yourself. The late autumn chill was seeping in now that the sun had gone down and you spared a brief glance at the fire the slavers were huddled around. You would not be jealous.

“And how is it you ended up in this mess? You look as if you could walk away whenever you choose,” you grouse.

She spared you half of a sardonic smile and lifted the hem of her dress enough to reveal heavy manacles latched to both her ankles and secured to a bolt below her feet.

“They learned quickly. Stuck here for the time. Besides, if…when I get out of here, my brother will have my head for letting my axe out of my sight long enough for these brutes and brigands to get their hands on me.”

You sniffed, feeling a bit chastised for your annoyance toward the woman.

“What about you, Little Bear?” she prompted with a smirk, looking over your attire, “You’re obviously not from here. Did your father owe someone too much money?”

You huffed again. “My father died when I was a baby. My mother too. I was taken quite far away and raised by my aunt. I was venturing into your lovely lands to find out if I had more family or any history here. Much to my current despair,” you finished, rolling your eyes.

The two of you sat in tense silence for moments, soaking in your venomous wrath toward the men who had taken you by surprise at the last village you had stopped at for the night. Brigands, both local and foreign to these cold Northern lands. The bottom of the barrel, operating solely out of greed for what they could profit on when pulling lone humans from their beds at each place they passed by. Violence and chaos left in their wake.

“Do you have any idea where they are taking us?” you prompted when the silence grew too heavy.

“South most likely, toward Hedeby. There is a trading settlement there. We won’t make it that far,” she expressed with a surety you envied.

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

Asbjørn Syversson stood before the forest’s edge, observing the small caravan. For the last seven days the Berserkir warriors had tracked the thieves, the last three of which they had kept them in their sights. Three days of concealment among the trees, observing their soon-to-be prey. Three days to delve into the rituals so vital to communion with the bear spirit within. To prepare for battle.

The brigands had stolen the king’s sister from the village she had been visiting. The idiots had no idea who they had among them, the danger they had placed themselves in. The king had called upon his Berserkirs to retrieve her and punish the men. They had no idea the hell that was about to rain down upon them.

Syversson shifted on his feet, suppressing the straining beast within. Something was different about this hunt. Something that scratched at his skin, woke his senses. A…scent in the air, one that got stronger as they narrowed the gap to the traveling party.

His men, sensing his tension, rose to their feet behind him, readying themselves to allow the bear spirit free reign of their bodies.

“It is time.”

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

“There, now you look like a proper Northwoman,” your companion laughed as she finished braiding your hair. You had learned her name was Bodil. She had quickly found that maintaining conversation was a fine way to distract you from your anger long enough to convince you to eat.

“Mm. Just in time to be sold like livestock. We seem to be getting closer to our destination,” you remarked glumly. “I’m sorry your hope of a rescue did not come true.”

Bodil chuckled. “Oh hardly, my sweet friend. They’ve been tracking us for days. I’m surprised you had not noticed them yourself.”

“I am no tracker. How was I to have noticed?” you replied, a sudden bloom of hope erupting in your chest.

She hummed in reply, avoiding answering.

Your eyes skimmed the perimeter of the camp as the brigands prepared their evening fires. You saw nothing out of the ordinary. Perhaps Bodil was just being hopeful, imagining a rescue that would never come. Or perhaps she was telling you such things to ease the worry in your heart until you reached the trading settlement.

“Rest now,” she said, obviously sensing your doubt, “They will come soon.”

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

You jolted awake to the sound of a deafening roar.

Disoriented, you cowered to the corner of the pen, trembling.

“Do not hide girl,” Bodil said. She turned to you, grinning like a madwoman, her eyes alight and fierce. “You will not want to miss this.”

You crept forward slowly and looked out between the bars. The camp was in disarray, men tearing themselves from their sleeping rolls to gather weapons, their countenances dripping with fear.

Another fierce roar vibrated across the land, and this time through your chest, down your spine, and down even to your toes. Your heart pounded. Your hands gripped the bars and you pressed forward to see. When your eyes fell upon the source of the brigands’ fear, your mouth went dry.

Perhaps ten men (if you could call them that, for they were the largest men you had ever seen) approached the camp at a swift pace. They wore no shirts, not a stitch of armor amongst them. They were bare from the waist up save for the skin of a bear draped across their shoulders, some with the pelt covering their own scalp and the face of a bear hanging over their foreheads. Every one of them thick with muscle and their eyes completely feral. These were more animal than man.

“What are they?” You asked, hating the tremble in your voice.

“Berserkirs. My brother’s prized warriors. Our most fearsome defenders. The spirit of a bear resides inside each of them. Part man, part beast. And very entertaining, if you understand me,” Bodil’s eyes were alight with both humor and fervor. This woman must be insane, you thought.

Their leader charging in the front of the group let out one more deafening roar, his almost-fangs on full display, the corded muscle in his neck pulsing beneath a thick tangle of beard. The sound rang through you again, causing every nerve of your body to leap to awareness. Then they descended upon the camp.

Axes and swords swung high, arcs of blood following in their wake. Some did not even bother with weapons, tearing into their foes with their bare hands. Men…well, parts of what used to be men…were thrown to and fro in their battle fury. An errant arm smacked against the bars of the cage that separated you and Bodil from the fray, before landing in the mud with a thump. You yipped in surprise, falling back onto your rump. The sound drew the attention of the man nearest you, their leader. His inhuman eyes locked onto your face momentarily, sending a jolt of lightening through your senses, before he tore his gaze away and back to the slaughter.

You turned toward Bodil to see she was still smiling, battle-lust strong in her eyes. Her fingers moving of their own accord as though she wished she was participating as well. Not that she would have had much to do, as the battle was quite brief, and soon you found yourself staring over a campsite of slain men. The Berserkirs stood breathing heavily amongst the bodies, each one of them covered in a spray of blood.

Their leader locked eyes with you again before moving closer. You felt rooted in place, your chest heaving.

“Asbjørn, son of Syver. Leader of my brother’s warriors,” Bodil identified as he placed his hands on the bars. He seemed not to notice the introduction, eyes roaming over you. He sniffed the air slowly. He may have been the most beautiful, most terrifying man you had ever laid eyes upon. His bare chest was covered in thick curls of hair that trailed down his stomach and below the waist of his pants. Your view felt locked upon him, drawn to his handsome features. As your eyes trailed back up to his face, he cocked his head to the side slightly as though in question. Suddenly the muscles in his chest and arms bunched, and the bars were torn away with a resounding crack that jolted you to your core.

“Yrsa,” his deep, gravelly voice caused an involuntary shiver to run down your spine.

“What does that mean?” You asked, unable to take your eyes off the formidable creature devouring you with his gaze. You felt a heat blooming in your lower belly the longer he stood there, drinking you in.

“She-bear. His spirit recognizes yours, I gather. Have fun with that one, my little friend,” Bodil grinned wickedly as another of the men came over and hacked open the chain of her manacles with an axe and she leapt from the makeshift cage.

“B-but Bodil! Wait!” you tried, but she was already walking off, pausing only to pull an abandoned axe from the chest of a slain man and jauntily following the men who were now stripping the camp of any valuables and making their way back to the woods.

You had no option but to turn your attention back to the very intense, very intimidating stare of the warrior blocking your own exit from the carriage. Had this been a rescue only meant for one? It only occurred to you in that moment that you were still a stranger here. One who had been meant to be sold as property. Would these men have a similar intention? Perhaps you were quite stupid in that moment, but the thought made you angry, so you returned the intensity of his stare with a low growl in his direction.

To your complete and utter bemusement, it drew a slight smile from the man. He reached out toward you and you flinched back, earning a sharp look from him. But instead of his hand harming you, he simply ran one of your braids over his open palm in a seemingly reverent gesture. He then leaned in closer, his nostrils flaring slightly as he breathed in your scent. He hummed low in his throat, causing you to clench involuntarily.

It was then you lost all your senses. You dove under his arm out of the carriage and rolled through the mud to your feet, taking off at a sprint. To where, you had no idea. You likely had no hope of outrunning the man or his party, no idea why you even were. It’s not like he had harmed you, quite the opposite in fact. But the loss of control over your own reactions in combination with the brutality of the battle you had just seen take place had your primal instincts running high, so your only thought was to flee.

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

Syversson watched you scamper away like a frightened rabbit. He tamped down his instinctual urge to give chase. You wouldn’t get far in these unfamiliar woods.

He walked back to the woods to the camp where Bodil and his men waited, using the time to wrestle his own bear-spirit back into submission. He’d never felt anything remotely similar to the feeling that had clawed through his body when he laid eyes on you. Raw, fierce, visceral desire. Not just of the flesh, but an impassioned, soul-deep hunger had overtaken him. He needed to know you. Taste you. Feel your aromatic, soft skin under his fingers. But more than anything, he desired to mark you. In every way possible. To dominate and make you unquestionably his.

Tense, he crossed the final distance into the woods to where his men would camp for the night. Several pairs of half-golden eyes trained themselves to him as he approached, fading back into their normal hues as the men’s own spirits returned to the forefront of their consciousness.

“Return the shield-maiden to her brother. I will join you in the great hall in one week’s time,” was all he managed to grit out, before turning to gather his own sparse belongings and setting off in the direction you had run, Bodil’s knowing laughter fading into the forest at his back.

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

So stupid. Absolutely idiotic. You had made a mistake.

You had always had a fondness for the forest back home. You spent inordinate amounts of time trekking and exploring the trees near your aunt’s village. You had thought you would be fine on your own. How wrong you were.

These Northern woods were thick, unfamiliar, and disorienting. And so cold. You had wandered for nearly a day and a half and not found your way out. Completely lost and frightened, you sat down on the trunk of an overturned tree to soak in your own despair for a while. Fuck. You shivered, your kirtle was half soaked with frozen mud. You needed to find shelter or build a fire before the sun set or you would freeze in your sleep. You needed food. And you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching you. Giving yourself a mental shake, you stood and made to trek on.

An hour later you found yourself standing at the mouth of a cave, the darkness inside both intimidating and inviting. You wanted desperately to shelter inside and begin building a fire with the wood you had gathered. You crept inside the mouth of the cave, moving slowly. Once inside, you placed down the wood and set to work stacking it and preparing the fire, your unease drifting away as you worked. Relief hit you as the first small flames began licking up the stack of wood and you held your hands toward it to warm them as you knelt on the stone ground.

Within minutes your frozen fingers had thawed and you began wondering whether it was worth the effort to find food to gather as darkness began to fall outside. Perhaps you should sleep and worry about finding food in the morning light. You raised your head to assess the best place to lay yourself near the fire, and found yourself staring right into a reflective pair of eyes.

You gasped and fell back, scrambling away from the large grey wolf staring at you from across the fire. It began moving closer to you, its lips pulling away from its teeth as it paced slowly in your direction. You racked your mind, desperate to think of a way out of this situation as the animal drew nearer. Was this it? Rescued from slavers only to be eaten alive by an angry denizen of the forest? Your fear of the Berserkirs seemed ridiculous to you now. What you wouldn’t give to have that feral strength present in this moment.

You tried to slowly scoot yourself closer to the fire. If you could just grab hold of one of the flaming logs, perhaps you could scare the wolf away. At a snail’s pace, you crept your arm along the stone ground, reaching, leaning. Your fingers finally closed around the base of one of the torches and you tugged it lightly toward yourself. Weapon in hand now, you pulled yourself back just as slowly, desperate not to attract the wrath of the creature in front of you with any sudden movements.

But just as you brought it near, your plan was foiled as the stacked wood from the fire collapsed, popping and crackling as it sent a plume of embers flying toward both yourself and your adversary. The wolf, agitated and emboldened by the sudden commotion, launched itself at you. Its jaws agape, the mass of fur and claws signaled your bitter, sad end. There was nothing left for you to do but scream your last rebellious cry at the world as you swung the torch toward your own doom.

But you never made contact.

A roar reverberated through the stone walls of the cave, and something much larger and more furious made impact with the creature, throwing both itself and the wolf past the burning mess that was your fire. Two bodies made impact against the stone, growling, tumbling. Yips and roars of pain could be heard as your eyes made out the color of a man’s flesh tangled against the grey fur of the wolf and the deep, sanguine rivulets of fresh blood.

Syversson.

You watched, frozen, as the absolute beast of a man tore into his adversary. A battle between two animals took place before your eyes, fear and pity warring in your heart for both combatants. Another pained yip tore through the air and the wolf was thrown from the man. Clearly taking it as a signal to its defeat, the animal began a limping run toward the mouth of the cave. The man shot to his feet, clearly intending to give chase, but you had seen too much. You shot up to intercept him, and pressed both hands against his chest.

“No! Please, no. It’s gone. Please.”

You were sure that he could easily knock you aside, but not much could be said in favor of your sense of self-preservation lately anyway. But to your surprise, he halted. His near-golden eyes slowly swiveled to your face, then down to where your palms lay firmly against his sculpted chest. His massive ribcage expanded with a deep breath, which he expelled as a firm chuff in your direction, clearly intending to signal his displeasure. Your knees weakened considerably at the action, but you stood as firm as you could, setting your jaw and glaring into his eyes.

His eyebrows drew together as he observed your actions, his muscles dancing tense underneath your hands. It was obvious he was fighting for control over the beast inside himself. A low growl rumbled from deep within his chest, making your toes curl against the rough stone floor. Your now trembling fingers pressed more firmly against him in an attempt to guide him back.

“You’re hurt, please. Let me help you.”

His eyes traveled to where yours indicated, a deep gash across his shoulder that now sluggishly leaked blood. Your tone was clearly soothing enough for the large man, because he relented, allowing you to push him back toward the rough walls. Guiding him to sit, you quickly tore and gathered what clean cloth you could from your underdress, the over being still covered in now-dried but only slightly less frozen mud from your journey. You carefully wrapped the cloth around the wound and up under the pit of his arm before tying it off. You prayed to the gods you would be able to find clean water soon to wash it, but this would do for now. He never once winced with your ministrations, just monitored your face continuously with those eyes that were slowly fading from gold to a striking blue.

“Are you…are you human again now?”

He chuckled at that. “Yrsa, I will never be fully human. But my bear spirit has settled for the time, if that is what you mean.”

“Why did you follow me?” you asked, “Do you mean to sell me like those men did?”

A fierce anger overtook his features at that.

“Sell you?! Never! I followed you because you are mine. Your spirit calls to mine, do you not feel it?”

You felt something, sure. But what was he talking about? Whatever you felt was surely just part of all the fear and exhaustion and bafflement at the entire situation you had found yourself in. “Y-yours? I don’t understand.”

“My mate.”

“Your…what? I don’t know what you mean,” you found yourself intrigued, but instincts had you moving back from him. You wouldn’t run this time, no. He had proven to be no harm to you, but you also weren’t sure what this mate business was all about and you weren’t sure what his intentions toward you were because of it.

“Perhaps it would be better if I showed you,” he said with a smirk, unfurling his legs and leaning forward toward you. He was an imposing man, all muscle and fur and gleaming teeth. Your breath quickened as he towered over your sitting form, moving closer until he hovered right above you. He sniffed at your hair, your neck, causing shivers to run the length of your body. You found yourself overwhelmed and unable to concentrate on anything but his own musky scent; earth, salt, and the coppery tang of blood lingered around him. Something primal within you reacted to it, causing you to inhale another deep lungful as your core clenched and you pressed your thighs together. His arm reached out, and you unconsciously braced for whatever he was about to do to you.

He grasped one of the logs from the fire and smirked at you again, then set himself to rebuilding the mess that had become of your makeshift camp. You watched, confused.

“You’re mine. Your soul was meant for mine. And mine for yours. I do intend to show you that, in many, many pleasurable ways. But most importantly, I will take care of you.” He gathered the furs you had seen him don previously and arranged them by the fire. “Come.”

You stared, unmoving.

“It is cold. You are shivering. Come.”

Your mouth gaped slightly.

“I-“

“Come.”

Your body drew you to him, unbidden by your own will. As though some soul-deep part of you begged to obey his command. You lay yourself down, stiffly at first, though you relaxed as you drew closer to the warmth of the fire and furs. Feeling nearly delirious as your own body and desire betrayed your stubbornness. Perhaps this is how it ends, a small part of your psyche whispered. Perhaps this is how it begins, whispered another.

“Yes, yrsa. You are safe now. Lay with me,” he whispered in your ear as he enveloped you in his large frame and drew the furs around you both.

And oh if his skin wasn’t deliciously heated against your own, which up until that point you had subconsciously feared would never be fully warm again. Fine tremors wracked their way up your spine as you allowed yourself to relax into the feeling of him pressed up against you. His massive, muscled arm came around you, the pressure just enough to make you feel tender and encapsulated without feeling trapped.

The sound that rumbled from his chest as he felt you relax against him was both delicious and foreign at once. The deep, guttural hum seeped into your muscles and bones like the drum of a war march and the tranquility of a summer rain simultaneously. Could you reach euphoria from a single sound?

Your eyelids sunk heavily as your pupils reached a zenith. A final shudder listed lazily through your being as you were drawn deeply into unconsciousness, feeling wholly, irrationally, for the first time since you were a child, that you were well and truly cared for.

_____________

It wasn’t until the dead of the night, when the fire had burnt itself down to embers, that you awoke.

You weren’t sure of the cause at first, until that blissful hum penetrated into your half-lucid mind. The son of Syver remained stationed in a protective cocoon around your frame, though he stirred now, the movements of his deep breaths pressing him against you. As if he sensed your return to the world of the living, he nuzzled against your hair. No words needed spoken as you cued into the change in him.

Heat,

weight,

…need.

Any slight movements of your body caused you to press against that ardent need. The errant desire that pulsed through you at the realization caused your head to lull back against the firm wall of his chest, a low moan escaping your lips. That was all the encouragement he needed.

His large hands began to roam your body, causing all concerns to flutter away like petals of spring flowers blown in a heavy wind. You were suddenly devoid of all but a certain theme of awareness, drugged by the touch and vocalizations of a near-stranger. One who was no stranger at all, you knew deep down, for you were aware of who he was, regardless of any stubborn desire to rationalize.

You sensed the tension in him. The rapturous fury held leashed. The strength with which he held himself at bay did nothing but add to the heated desire building within you. This was part of you, you realized. A deeply dormant, visceral need contained in your soul which you had only just realized.

“Please.”

A needy whisper.

He groaned, muscles tremoring.

“Are you sure, yrsa? For I will not hold back once I have started.”

His proclamation was emphasized by a firm grip of your fleshy thigh, the painful pressure causing you to gasp.

“I have no desire to be gentle with you.”

You moaned again. “Please!” came your desperate, breathless consent.

He growled his approval against the skin of your neck as you were roughly rolled to your back.

His tongue darted out from between his thick, plush lips as it traced your collarbone. You arched upward toward his hungry form, pressing your chest against his as his body drew over yours.

“Your scent…your taste. It’s intoxicating,” he rumbled as his mouth further explored your skin. He moved up, capturing your mouth with his. He was not a gentle man. It was an almost furious kiss, stealing the breath from your lungs as his tongue pressed between your lips and began to battle your own for dominance. His heavy frame pressed into you with the most delicious weight, settled between your legs as he rendered you nearly thoughtless with his mouth upon yours. He pulled back, his chest heaving, and you nearly followed his mouth in desperation for more. “I must taste more of you,” he rasped harshly.

Rough fingers tore asunder the top of your shift, your small noise of protest only seeming to encourage him further as he greedily palmed your breasts. Each of your nipples was laved in turn, sucked into the warmth of his mouth, causing your body to undulate against his as a torrent of sensations flowed through your form and straight to your core. The urgency emanating from him did not allow him to stop there though.

His tongue and lips danced down your body, his beard tracing a burning trail along your skin, setting alight parts of you that you hadn’t even been aware could burn. You were desperately near begging when he finally pushed your skirts up, his eyes drinking in the sight before him.

“So. Beautiful.”

His words alone were enough to send a river of arousal dripping from you, but the awe present on his rough, handsome features nearly threw you over the edge before he had even touched you. Never had you thought your body was capable of such desire and need. A small whine escaped from you, causing his attention to finally snap to its target. As he lowered his face to your apex, you instinctually pressed up toward him. The hum of approval that fell from his lips as they met your wet heat vibrated through you and nearly made you delirious. His hands gripped at your thighs, the painful pressure only adding to your euphoria as his tongue pressed against you, lapping at your sweet folds rhythmically, firmly. It felt as though he were sending waves of pleasure through you, building to larger and larger cascades until they crested over an unyielding shore. You had never felt anything of the sort, and were nearly blinded as the pressure building within you snapped and you cried out in bliss, shuddering against him, though his hands held your hips firmly in place.

He rose back over you, one arm holding his weight from crushing you, the other reaching a hand to wipe his beard.

“You are…the most delicious, most amazing woman I have ever tasted.”

You had no words to offer in return as you fought to catch your breath. You stared up into his eyes as they devoured your countenance. The beautiful azure was slowly being tinged by gold. You watched in absolute awe as the stain wandered across his vision, not fully, but enough to tell you he was being consumed by instinct. The sight shook you to your very essence, and your legs spread unconsciously as your desire built again. His low growl signaled to you that his desire was just as strong, reverberating through your bones, sinews, and to your very core. His lack of movement told you that he was still containing himself. Waiting for your permission.

He had it. He had that and more. Whatever this was between you, you wanted to let him in, to let him own every inch of you. You reached up and began unlacing his breeches, his impressive length pressing taut against the leather. As you pushed the fabric open and down, over his hips, he shuddered, muscles bunching in his arms and chest as he fought his own instincts long enough to let you lead this small part of your impending union.

His revealed anatomy astounded you, your lips parting slightly in awe. It was somehow the most beautiful and frightening thing you had ever laid eyes upon. His heartbeat thundered visibly, apparent in the pulsing veins that wove thick and proud around his girth. You reached out and lightly, hesitantly traced a finger along one. His growl deepened significantly, pleasure and frustration spilling out of him in the waves of sound. You looked to his eyes, pupils lust-blown and dark amongst the blue and gold of his irises. One moment suspended in time as your eyes met. There it was. That mystery that linked your two souls. Your mutual desire, care, and need hung like a tether between the two of you, stretched taut. He saw the change in you as you recognized it, and with that, he moved.

Lining himself up with your entrance, he pushed his hips forward slowly. The intrusion was vast against your untrained walls. The stretch, despite his preparation, was both painful and pleasurable and you keened as he pressed into you, inch by deliciously torturous inch, tearing asunder your resistance. Your fingers clawed for purchase against his chest as he bottomed out within you, his moan of pleasure furthering your descent into a near-feral woman. He allowed you a mere moment to adjust before the dam of his control finally broke, and he drew back and began to thrust into you in earnest.

You cried out as his pelvis rocked against yours, his length jutting into your core, his ridges burning friction against your soft walls. The painful pleasure of his rigid lust consumed you, ate up your thoughts until you were nothing but a being of pure, animalistic sensation. His face pressed against your neck, lips giving way to teeth as he marked your body as his. His rutting form enveloped you, skin pressing against skin, the coarse hairs of his chest creating further friction against your exposed breasts and nipples. As you cried out again, he pulled out completely.

His strong, calloused hands moved to your hips, flipping your body with ease onto all fours, and he slammed back into you without hesitation. You barely held yourself up as your body tremored all over. One of his arms snaked around your middle, holding you in position, as his other hand drew a possessive line down your back. This was it. This beast of a man would own you completely. Mesh his own soul with yours. And you wanted it so badly you ached.

His hips hit hard against you as his thrusts became impossibly stronger. The punishing rhythm he set made you feel as though you were being torn apart and put back together anew. His hand tangled in your hair, dragging you by a fistful up against his chest. He pressed his lips to your ear, his ragged breaths skimming pure bliss across your skin, causing your eyes to roll back behind closed lids.

“You are mine.”

His grunted proclamation built the burning intensity in your womb to a blazing inferno. Set fire to your soul. You doubted any other words could ever cause such passion to flame within you. But as his next words left his lips, you learned otherwise.

“I.”

His thrusts grew erratic. You felt him swell within you.

“Am.”

Your walls clutched him. The head of his cock slammed against your cervix.

“Yours.”

You fell apart. Fell to pieces. Your vision went white with ecstasy as you shuddered around him and screamed out your bliss.

His accompanying roar tore you asunder. He set his teeth into your neck as he came with a final slam of his cock into your abused hole. You could feel his hot seed spilling against your battered walls, soothing the delicious ache. Your trembling legs gave out below you and he eased you down to the fur-covered ground, collapsing beside you after he softened and pulled from you. You could feel his warm fluids dripping out of you and you shivered.

Syversson pulled you to him, turning you to rest your head against his heaving chest. His hand dipped down between your tremoring thighs and he ran his fingers through your gathered essence. A sigh escaped you as he touched you. Pulling his hand back up, he pressed his fingers against your lips, nudging them open. You laved your tongue around and between them, gathering every drop you could, sucking them clean. His softening manhood twitched at your actions and he groaned, pulling you up to kiss you. Your tongues danced around the taste of each other’s pleasure.

When he pulled away, you lay your head back down on him.

“Rest again now, yrsa. Tomorrow we begin the journey back to the great hall.”

His deep breaths had almost instantly soothed you into a near-slumber, but you had at least the energy to ask.

“And what will become of me when we get there?”

He closed his own eyes and smiled.

“We will go before the king, and I will make you my wife.”

Tag List:

@beck07990 @magdelen69 @rn7rocks @tinylittlebluebird @inthenameofcavill @gearhead66 @oddsnendsfanfics @cavillhavoc @pterodactylterrace @killjoy-assbutt-1112 @mary-ann84 @littlefreya @fuckoffbard @its–fandom–darling @kmuir1 @thelastsock @henryobsessed @eldarwen333 @definitelydenisse @inlovewithhisblueeyes @shy-violet-soul @seriouslygoodlookinggents @coffeebreathy @summersong69 @faithiee @viking-raider @madbaddic7ed @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @hope-to-hell @crimsonrae

*If you would like to be added or removed from my tag list, please let me know!*

A million hugs and smooches to @thelastsock for betaing this for me.

(Dec 11, 2020)

#captain syverson #au #berserker

1K notes · View notes

vvienne · 3 years

Text

XICHENG FIC RECS

hold my hands by Snooze (Chiruka)

Transplanting a core into a new person isn’t without repercussions. One year after the events at Guanyin Temple, Jiang Cheng found himself once again faced with the possibility of losing everything he had. Reconciling with his brother, learning to let Jin Ling go, and dealing with his blooming emotions toward the First Jade of Gusu — will Jiang Cheng accomplish what he wants before time runs out?

it all passes someday by screamlet

A week before the anniversary of Wei Wuxian’s death, there was a commotion outside Lan Wangji’s house.

Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji over the years.

The Unlikely Expression of Love by manamune

When everything has settled, when everyone else has moved on with their lives and their friends, Jiang Cheng has a realization which shouldn’t actually be a surprise:

He’s lonely.

Indigo, lavender, and violet (I don't wanna be red) by ohwhatevrewhatevr

It, in the pale colors of the late morning, is the closest to perfect Jiang Cheng will ever reach. He strokes Lan XiChen's hair and presses a light kiss to where his ribbon and hair meet. The sky is a pale blue, and the pastels of flowers and clouds are spread out through the window, a brilliant world waiting for them, them in the gentian house, safe from stronger breezes - there is the clutter of birds fluttering and chirping outside. It is a warm, perfect, spring morning.

Jiang Cheng and Lan XiChen have been together for an year. In which, no one ever really gets over things, Jiang Cheng has the misfortune of interacting with his brother, the juniors help out with the proposal, and there's a marriage.

Altitude by starknjarvis

When Jin Ling lures Jiang Cheng to the Cloud Recesses under false pretenses, he finds himself out of place among this new family Wei Wuxian has formed.

Lan Xichen, at least, seems pleased to have his company.

Perhaps there is still a chance for Jiang Cheng to make amends and move forward.

[Modao Zushi Online] GLITCH REPORT: My Brother Got Chased Down And %$@*$&@ By Gusu Dungeon Boss??? by oh_fudgecakes

Modao Zushi Online is a virtual reality MMORPG. Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian are top ranking players in its new server, currently tied with their arch-nemesis from their previous server, Wen Chao. In an attempt to defeat him, they take on the Gusu Dungeon Boss, Zewu-jun, to win the reward of a legendary weapon. Ever the cheat, Wei Wuxian tries to take advantage of a glitch to defeat the seemingly undefeatable boss. It backfires. Jiang Cheng gets fucked by a boss monster.

He can't get enough.

Meanwhile, Lan Xichen, the unwitting staff member in charge of controlling Zewu-jun, absolutely did not sign up to be pulled into a secret virtual reality fling with a player. Mod Ji, who has to deal with Wei Wuxian's incessant glitch reporting of his brother's sex life, is long-suffering.

Mulberry by xxdz

Jiang Cheng grits his teeth and pushes harder. He feels like torn silk, the embroidery needle sinking in again and again and again; patiently, desperately, endlessly trying to make something beautiful out of something broken.

Jiang Cheng builds his sect, learns embroidery, and raises his nephew.

we can raise a little family by lanyon

“Well, brother,” says Wei Wuxian, leaning against the outside of Jiang Cheng’s chambers. “I had heard that you and Xichen went on a night hunt and came back with a baby, which is not the order I’d choose to do things in…”

In which Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen acquire a baby of unknown origin, and are the very last to know what it means.

Beyond the Impossible by Silverine

Summoned by Lan Qiren, Jiang Wanyin goes to the Cloud Recesses to drop his nephew Jin Ling, expecting to discuss relevant matters with his old master. Instead, he's asked to take with him no other than Sect Leader Lan himself, all the way back to Lotus Pier. If the reason why he accepted such an outrageous task is indeed a mystery, he's about to be surprised by how this entire trip, their encounters, and his warm company, suddenly feel fated.

Incrementally by xxdz

Jiang Cheng is trapped in a day on repeat where he begins by waking in Zewu Jun’s bed at dawn and ends by dying painfully at dusk.

It’s getting very irritating, and he has the sneaking suspicion that his chances to solve his own murder are rapidly running out. Soon, his death will be much more permanent.

All in all, worst birthday ever.

Audience of One by WinterDreams

“Then let an established star go first,” Lan Xichen interrupts again before Lan Wangji can give a stubborn reply. Both men twist toward Lan Xichen, and he smiles at Wei Wuxian’s tilted head. “If I publicly date a man for awhile first, your engagement shouldn’t receive as much backlash.”

Or, that AU where everyone is famous in some way or another, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji have been dating in private for years, and Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng pretend to date publicly for their brothers' sake.

A Bit of Ruthlessness by jirluvien

When Jiang Cheng hears that Lan Xichen went into seclusion following Jin Guangyao’s death, it’s almost as if he can see the grabby hands of a restless ghost, reaching out for something to keep him company. For something warm and living and devastated. And as history has proved time and time again, the Lans are perfect victims when it comes to giving in to ghosts.Yeah, no. Not on Jiang Cheng’s fucking watch.A story about grief, determination, unexpected friendships, abandoned watchtowers, and letters. So many letters.

All Tied Up In You by Clearpearls

Yet again, the night had come to this:

Jiang Cheng on the floor, kneeling, Zidian wrapped around his wrists.

Alone.

Thank You, and I'm Sorry by Hamliet

Jin GuangYao might be dead, but his story is not. Taking advantage of the chaos he instigated, someone makes an attempt on the life of the young new leader of the Jin Sect. When Jiang Cheng takes Jin Ling to the Cloud Recesses to have him study while he attempts to work with Wei WuXian and his husband Lan WangJi to eliminate the threat, he encounters a mourning Lan XiChen, lovestruck teenagers, and a persistent corpse--and both pairs of brothers find themselves struggling to move on.

saturn's rings (don't be a heartbreaker) by iskendaris

Set after the seige of burial mounds, Yunmeng rebuilds as they hold the first Discussion Conference at Lotus Pier. Sometimes the night is a gift, a refuge for loneliness. "So stern, Sect Leader Jiang," Lan Xichen murmured, "So glacial... What will it take to melt that icy exterior? What can I say?"

"Nothing. There's nothing you can say or offer."

reciprocity by jukeboxhound

There’s a pause before Lan Xichen says, in a tone that’s a little more neutral, “I would like to paint on you.”

“…What?”

“Of course, if you say ‘yes’ but then change your mind at any point, for any reason, you need only say so and I will stop immediately,” he adds.

Well, silver lining: Jiang Cheng is feeling much more awake than he was a moment ago.

Talent Hunt Crew Finds Angry Guy Shouting On College Campus, Recruits Him For Vocal Projection Abilities by oh_fudgecakes

Jiang Cheng, resident Angry Guy and heir to a conglomerate empire, has never been the apple of his father’s eye. Quashed under the shadow of his brilliant brother, the music prodigy Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng sees his chance to turn things around when he is recruited by the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt. One problem: he can’t sing to save his goddamn life.

As he struggles to develop his nascent singing abilities, Jiang Cheng finds himself sucked into the whirlwind drama of reality TV, helped along by his adoring siblings, his irritable vocal coach Wen Qing, and strangely enough, the unfairly attractive host of the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt, Lan Xichen. Somewhere in the glare of the stage lights and an unexpected first love, Jiang Cheng stumbles upon the thing he was searching for all along: the courage to dream — and to attempt the impossible.

Marginal Costs by ohwhatevrewhatevr

“You think you know what you want, Er-Ge,” A-Yao says. “But you should consider what you’re willing to give first,” he says wryly, taking Lan XiChen’s chess piece with slim, skilled fingers.

Lan XiChen looks up at A-Yao’s concentrated expression and the hint of contentment on his face that he is special enough to be allowed to see.

“It’s not just one decision, but the lead up to many more. One decision decides what else you’re going to have to pay, and each time you have to ask yourself, ignoring the sunk costs, if this time it’s worth it as well.”

When his sworn brother looks up at him with those clear, amber eyes, waiting, Lan XiChen feels the pull and gives in: he asks.

“Are you happy being in love?”

(First half is two sad sworn brothers talking, internally mourning how unfortunate their other sworn brother’s death was :/ and second half is when a mopey boy in blue meets an angsty boy in purple whilst chasing a demonic cultivator, and a lil bit of sexy dual cultivation happens.)

Somewhat Tender by theherocomplex

There is no defense against kindness; it has always undone him.

I didn't expect you to be lonely (too) by bettydice (BettyKnight)

Jiang Cheng's life is a mess, he's a mess, and he doesn't miss his brother at all. So when his sister gifts him ten sessions with a massage therapist, who turns out to be someone he was crushing on for a hot minute as a teenager and is still as hot as ever... yeah, that might as well happen. It won't have to mean anything.

This feels intimate to Jiang Cheng in a way that's probably very inappropriate and maybe even pathetic. Nobody touches him like this, right where he’s hurt the most. There's no one who handles him so gently, so carefully.

It's the gentleness that's his undoing, he thinks. He would be able to deal better with it if it was painful.

Life for Rent by yodasyoyo

“Yeah well. You’re not taking me seriously. This guy is my soulmate!”

“Soulmate.” Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Just because you don’t believe in them—”

“I believe in them!” Jiang Cheng says. “I’ve never denied they exist.”

“Just last week you said that it was an evolutionary quirk that had been used by greetings card companies, movie makers, and corporations to exploit lonely and vulnerable people.”

“And I stand by it! That doesn’t mean that soulmates aren’t real. Just incredibly unlikely and probably pointless.

Or:

Xicheng vs Soulmates. Fight!

Halfway Around the World by theherocomplex

Normally, Jiang Cheng would be seething, jaw clenched tight, if someone sounded like that while they were talking, but — Lan Xichen has the trick of always making you feel like you're in on the joke, whatever the joke is. That you're laughing together.

Whelmed by yodasyoyo

For months now Jiang Cheng’s been idly fantasizing about how it would be if something were to come between Wei Ying and Lan Zhan. Mostly those daydreams have been simple enough — they break up (probably because Lan Zhan is boring or Wei Ying is annoying), Wei Ying is sad for a couple of days (Jiang Cheng’s willing to allow some space for feelings, he isn't a total monster), but then Wei Ying realizes he’s better off, he gets over it, and Jiang Cheng gets his brother back.

Unfortunately the fantasy version of events has only proven partially true, so far. They've broken up. Wei Ying has been sad.

Now weeks have passed, though — and Wei Ying is still sad, every. Single. Day.

It’s like Jiang Cheng's stuck in a looping GIF, and it’s driving him insane.

Or:

Jiang Cheng plots, Lan Huan pines, and, unfortunately for Lan Qiren, Wangxian are inevitable.

#xicheng #fic recs #mdzs #mdzs recs #jiang cheng #lan xichen #obvs these reflect my personal preferences etc etc

298 notes · View notes

eternally-writing · 3 years

Text

memory lane | jjk

genre: fluff

rating: PG-13

pairing: Jungkook x reader

theme: boyfriend!au, one-shot

word count: 1.4k

warnings: implied sex before the story takes place

Synopsis: When you and Jungkook can’t fall asleep at night, you and him stay up chatting about past memories.

This was from a request by @carpediem1219 (you can read the request here) !

If you have a fic request you can ask it here!

banner by me!

–♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡–

“Babyyyy, come back to bed,” groaned Jungkook, watching you move around in his bathroom.

You loved Jungkook, but you were not ready to risk getting a UTI for him so you left him in bed while you went to clean yourself up. Throwing on one of Jungkook’s shirts (which was basically a dress on you since you were so much shorter than him), you sauntered away from his sink.

“I don’t even know how you’re still awake babe, I definitely thought I tired you out tonight,” you joked as you plopped down next to your boyfriend, stealing some of the covers that were covering his lower half.

Turning over to face you, he gazed adoringly at your smiley self beaming back at him.

“Why would I need to fall asleep when I’ve got the girl of my dreams in front of me?” crooned Jungkook as he put his hands on your waist to pull you closer to him

You groaned at his cheesiness and lightly slapped his chest (you secretly loved it, but there was no way that you were going to admit that anytime soon).

You and Jungkook both led such busy lives, so you truly appreciated the quiet moments like this (which were few and far between). It felt like there was nobody else in the world but the two of you as you looked into each other’s eyes, simply enjoying the other’s presence. You felt like you were a character in a Hallmark movie; it seemed like such a fantasy to be laying in bed across from the man of your dreams, as if none of this could be real.

Instinctively, you brushed your thumb lightly over the scar on Jungkook’s cheek, rubbing circles into the small mark.

“You never told me how you ended up with this scar, Koo,” you said softly as you focused on the scar.

Jungkook chuckled, sticking out his pinky in front of you before beginning to speak.

“I’ll tell you but you have to promise not to laugh too much ok?” he said with his doe eyes staring at you.

You twisted your pinky in his, kissing the top of his finger as a promise.

“I was 10 and my brother and I only had one computer to share. He wouldn’t let me play on the computer before him so we fought until he scratched me on the cheek,” he said bashfully, scratching the back of his neck,

You did promise Jungkook you wouldn’t laugh too much, but you were having a really hard time holding it in.

“Seriously babe? All that just to use a computer? Good to know you were just as computer obsessed then as you are now,” you jeered at him (you were only slightly jealous of how much time he spent playing Overwatch with his hyungs)

You ran a finger over the small diagonal of the scar again, subconsciously smiling after knowing the story behind it.

“It must have hurt so bad - it looks deep” you said now with a frown.

“Well when my mom saw me crying with a bloody cheek she did let me use the computer that day, and she gave me ice cream too - I’d call that an absolute win in my books,” exclaimed Jungkook with a prideful smile.

Placing a chaste kiss right over the scar, you glow to him.

“That’s my boy. I love it - it’s what makes you you, yknow”.

Jungkook grinned and pulled you closer into his chest, rolling over so he was on his back, your head directly over his beating heart.

“Okay, an eye for an eye babe. What’s this scar about?” he inquired as he pointed to the small slice on your kneecap, pulling your leg closer to him at the same time.

“When I was in grade 1 the most popular thing to do during lunch time was skipping rope on the playground, and I couldn’t master the hand eye coordination to do it so I kept tripping.”

It was now Jungkook’s turn to giggle a little.

“Awe, my babygirl couldn’t skip rope?” he said with his voice teetering on a fine line between being sweet and making fun of you.

“So one time I tripped and scraped my knee on the pavement trying to jump rope and that’s when I got this scar. I remember crying on the asphalt for what felt like hours before my best friend at the time, Jangmi, found me. My mom didn’t get me to stop crying that day until she gave me 4 popsicles,” you said with a smile, looking back fondly on the early memory.

The gears kept turning in Jungkook’s head.

“wait… you can jump rope now though Y/N… right?”

You were definitely glad that you had your head on Jungkook’s chest at that moment since you could bury your head even further in his chest so he wouldn’t be able to see your embarrassed expression.

“no” you whispered out meekly, unwilling to say it any louder.

Jungkook gasped and pulled your head away from his chest, holding it now in his hands.

“Babe! that’s like a life skill!!” exclaimed Jungkook with a concerned tone, shouting way louder than anyone should after midnight.

With the way Jungkook was acting, someone would’ve thought that you were telling him that you couldn’t drive or ride a bike (you actually couldn’t do one of those… but Jungkook didn’t need to know that yet).

In the midst of his rant about the importance of knowing how to jump rope , Jungkook proposed a plan. “Tomorrow you and I are heading to the gym and you are learning how to jump rope!”

You mewled at his plan. “Babe, people have tried - I just can’t do it. You’ll have to live with having a girlfriend who just can’t jump rope.”

Jungkook puffed out his chest and put his best cocky voice on. “It’s your lucky day Y/N. You’ve got Busan Middle School’s jump rope champion as your boyfriend to teach you.”

“Actually, Jungkook, I think it’s your lucky day. Even though I might not be able to jump rope, I do have some other special talents,” you said as you smiled smugly.

Hauling your legs over his body, Jungkook brought your body so you were straddling him.

“Hmm, I think I might need a refresher babe. Care to show me?”

-♡-

With the moon as your only witness, you and Jungkook continued to share your favorite memories associated with all the little quirks on your bodies throughout the night.

You got to tell him all about the scar you got on your hamstring from your brief stint in competitive gymnastics, the scar on your ear from the first time you tried to curl your hair, and the scar on your back that you somehow obtained while baking a cake for your grandpa’s 85th birthday.

Despite it being the middle of the night, Jungkook still laughed and cried along with you as he heard your stories, loving the opportunity to get to know you better. Kissing each scar after each story, Jungkook smiled at how beautiful you appeared in the moonlight.

At the same time, you got to learn even more about Jungkook. Alongside the computer story, you learned that Jungkook had scars on his back from the time he swears he saw a shark while swimming in Busan (the rest of his family is 100% he just brushed up against a rock, but you know how stubborn Jungkook can be) and that he has scar on his left Achilles heel from the time he tried on his mom’s heels.

As the sun started to make an appearance in the sky again, your eyelids started to feel heavy. As you were about to drift off into dreamland, you heard Jungkook’s voice.

“you’re so beautiful - you know that right?”

Even in your sleepy haze, you still blushed at Jungkook’s sweet words.

“All these scars, all these things you try to cover up with makeup or hide, they all make you even more beautiful. I promise to never let you forget how beautiful you are to me Y/N,” confessed Jungkook as he ran his fingers softly through your hair.

The last thing you felt that night before you fell asleep was Jungkook placing a sweet kiss on your forehead.

You could only hope that Jungkook was as good at teaching people how to jump rope as he was at being an amazing boyfriend.

–♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡–

If you enjoyed what you read, please interact/follow! Thank you for reading♡

- Emily

226 notes · View notes

bjornswoman · 3 years

Text

Blue piercing eyes

Requested by none.

Author's note: Hey guys! I hope each one of you is alright. I want to thank yoy again for your support, that means a lot for me. Especially, now that I am getting through a difficult period time. Also, sorry for any mistakes. Thank you for reading this!

Pairing: Modern!Bjorn x Reader.

Genre: Modern!au, romance, drama, angst.

Summary: You and Bjorn reunite again after two painful months.

Warnings: Jealousy.

You tried to live a peaceful life, away from him and the drama of his world, that followed him everywhere. Wherever he was, the placed ended up destroyed. You even left your home, you left Denmark and moved somewhere else, thinking that he wouldn't find you. You had reached Spain to find your peace, but Bjorn Lothbrok was stubborn and he would do anything to take you back. The reason you left wasn't because you didn't love him. You loved him with every last piece of you. Your heart was beating only for him and the fact that you were apart, teared it off, but you couldn't do nothing else.

He had warned you that his job was his top priority and all the matters that happened into it. You didn't care, at first, but that changed when be spent more and more time away from you, because of business. Of course, business included being close to attracting women. You knew how Bjorn could get when he was close to a hot woman, he couldn't handle himself. He loved you, he really did and you knew that, but that was his weak spot. He was the perfect man. He was a successful businessman, a good looking man and an even better lover, you knew too well how to satisfy a woman. He was a father, he loved his children, he had told you that and even if he didn't, you would see it in his eyes. He loved them deeply, but he didn't really know how to express it, because his own father had never really gotten to tell him. He just taught him how to be the successful heir of his company. He kept saying that he regretted for not being in their lives, you told him that never was late, but, as the stubborn man he was, he didn't listen, he thought that he had lost any chance.

The things between you got bad and then worse when he met your boss. You were working in a well-known law firm. Actually, he had already known him, obviously. Bjorn Lothbrok knew literally everyone in this country and everyone knew him. After all, his family was the richest one in Denmark. The name Lothbrok was known all over the world and many famous businessmen craved a deal with them. Your boss, Mr Jones, was a womanizer, as well as your beloved boyfriend. He was hitting on you non-stop not knowing about your relationship with Bjorn, but even when he learned, he kept doing that. His flirting was the reason of the fights that destroyed you. He spoke harsh words, just to harm you, and you did the same and then your relationship ended.

After all that, you knew that you had to leave from Denmark. Ubbe, his younger brother, told that be was a mess and that he wouldn't let things this way. You wanted to be with him, but all that drama and you being never something serious for him, you decided that it your time to leave Denmark. Ubbe warned you that he would chase after you, but you were sure that you would make it to hide yourself from him and maybe, when he had forgotten you, you would return to your home and restart everything.

Now, after two months, you had settled down. You had a new job and made some new friends. You even managed to go on a date with some man. His name was Olaf, luckily, he was from Sweden. Maria, one of new friends, was working in the same company with him. She was the one whi insisted that you should date someone and you did. At first, you didn't like the idea of going out with someone that wasn't Bjorn Lothbrok, but, when you got to know Olaf, you liked spending time with him. He wasn't Bjorn, but no one would be, you had to move on, as you were sure that he did.

The only problem was that he didn't move on, because you loved you. He couldn't even lay with another woman. Yes, Bjorn Lothbrok couldn't lay with another because of you. Every single time he saw your figure everywhere in the room. He even tried to not be in a room to claim a woman, but you were still around there. He couldn't even imagine that he would feel something like that towards a woman, but there he was, feeling helpless. He tried to find you all this time and when he did, the deal with that Spanish men seemed the best option. They were pain in his ass for a whole year and now they were lucky that Madrid was where you decided to hide yourself, but nothing could be hidden from Bjorn Lothbrok.

"Stop! Please, I can't! It's..... my belly is hurting! Olaf, please you need to stop!" You tried to say within your laughter. You couldn't stop laughing. All night he was telling you some of some ridiculously funny jokes, you couldn't stop laughing. He was smiling at you. He liked you and tried to make him feel more comfortable when you were together, that's why he started saying that jokes. He wanted you to open up.

You couldn't do that. You needed to fully trust him before you started sharing private stuff about you with him. It wasn't like Bjorn. When you were with him you felt comfortable, that had been happening since your first actual date. Now with Olaf, it was different. Maria said that it was normal, because you hadn't been on a date with anyone, except Bjorn, but you didn't feel like it.

Olaf continued saying his jokes, but it wasn't funny anymore. Your laughter died when you saw Bjorn entering that same restaurant. His hand was wrapped around a woman's waist. She looked like a doll, probably she was a model. He didn't look at you neither once. Olaf looked at you confused. You had totally forgotten about him for a moment, but his voice took you back there on your table.

"Is-is everything all right?" He asked looking where you were looking before. He couldn't understand what was happening. "Do you-do you know that man?" He asked again and you coughed. You didn't want to lie to him, but that seemed the only solution at that moment.

"Well, not really. He just seemed familiar to me, but I don't really know him." You lied and he smiled at you again. Your eyes found their way to Bjorn again. This time they made contact with his blue piercing eyes. He didn't looked at you for long. His gaze returned to that woman. You tried to concentrate on what Olaf were saying. Your mind, as well as your heart, was on Bjorn and that blond woman who reminded you of Barbie.

"As I told you before, the company I work for is goimg to deal with some company of Denmark and--" His words made you look at him. He just said company of Denmark, you heard that clear. He was here because of a deal. Then what was this woman doing here, next to your man? Technically, he wasn't your man, not anymore, but you cared.

"You just said company of Denmark, didn't you?" You tried not to yell and you succeeded, only because you didn't want Bjorn to understand, but he did and that was why he smirked. Literally, this man could hear anything, even a cat walking. Olaf nodded and you run your hand through your hair. "Do you-do you know how the CEO of that company is called? Actually, is his name Bjorn Lothbrok?" You whispered and he frowned. He was completely confused. Firstly, he didn't know why you bothered and secondly, he couldn't understand why you were whispering.

"I think so." He spoke and you smiked. Now he was completely lost. He couldn't understand you. "Are you okay, (Y/N)? Do you want ys to leave, you know to continue our night somewhere else?" He asked and you thought about it for a while. If you left now, you wouldn't be close enough to watching him and if you stayed, you would be close enough, but you would be caught up for sure because you couldn't stop staring at them. Leaving was the right thing to do, you didn't want him to thinking that you were staying tgere vecause of him. But if you left, you wouldn't know were he was. That didn't really mattered. A voice inside your hears was yelling at you that you would meet him again.

"I am fine, but I do think that we should leave. I know were we should go. It's funnier there." You spoke and grabbed your jacket. He stood up and a wide smile covered his face. Bjorn wasn't as happy as Olaf. You had succeeded. You glanced at him. You was glaring at you. You smiled to yourself and left.

The fact that Bjorn was enraged because of you made you happy, but that woman with him didn't. You were almost sure that he had moved on, but if he had, why would he be angry with you dating another man? You needed answers and only Bjorn could give them to you, but you were sure that he wasn't willing to give them and even if you was, you wouldn't dare to ask for them. You could imagine that smirk on his face and that drove you crazy.

You were jealous, so much jealous that you couldn't control your thoughts, but you had no right to be. You had found another man and he did the same. You had to be happy for him. Whatever happened between you, wasn't meant to last. Maybe that way was better, but that didn't make it less painful. It hurt seeing him with another woman.

On the other hand, he was enraged. He tried to control his anger and not beat that man to death. That wouldn't help your relationship at all, but he couldn't see him make you laugh or hold your hand, like he used to do. Actually, he had never really held your hand. His hand had always been wrapped around your waist. He was possessive and that movement meant to show to every other man who wanted you, that you were his. He had totally forgotten about the blonde doll with him, but she made sure to remember him. She cleared her throat, but still he didn't seem to care for her. She sighed deep.

"Bjorn!" She whispered yelled and he looked at her frowned. She smiled at him and he looked back at you. You and that prick had stood up and probably were going to leave this place.

He hadn't picked this place randomly, he had learned about you dating this man and even that this place was where you going most of the times. So he wouldn't miss the chance to encounter with you here. He thought that all this would be less painful, but it wasn't. He even managed to bring Stella. She was a model, they met somewhere he couldn't reacall. She was just a friend. Yes, Bjorn Lothbrok had friends that were female. She was one of them. After all, she wasn't interested in any man.

Your eyes locked with his dark angry blue before you make your way out of that place. If eyes killed, you would be dead. Everyone would be dead inside that place.

You started walking with Olaf by your side. No one of you really talked. You were thinking about Bjorn. He looked more beautiful than before. His beard, that you loved so much, had grew much longer and his hair was shorter and that blue eyes that you missed so much. You could sense that something was bothering Olaf, as well, but Bjorn was the only thing you could think.

"There something in your mind that's bothering you, I can sense it you know and I think that it has to do with that man from earlier in the restaurant." Olaf spoke and you turned your face and looked at him. You didn't want to lie to him. He didn't deserve all of this. He was a funny and good guy. He deserved a woman who cared about him truly and loved him, not you. All you could think about, all you cared about was Bjorn. You were stil in love with him. Actually, you had never stopped. You couldn't stop.

You turned your gaze down on the ground. You weren't proud for that. You didn't want to hurt him. He deserved to know the truth. He was nothing but good and fair to you all this time. He didn't even make any move to lay with you. He respected you, because he had understood that something bothered you.

"There is something that's bothering me and yes, it has to do with him. His name is Bjorn and he is my ex." You said in stable tone of voice.

"Bjorn as Bjorn Lothbrok?" He asked, trying to join the pieces together. You nodded at him and he frowned. Now all made sense. He was the man Maria told him about. He told him that you had broken up with your boyfriend and that was the reason you came to Madrid. You lived in Denmark and Bjorn lived there too. Also, Maria told him that you tried to get away from that man. It all made sense. He was famous and powerful. "And you? I mean, do you still love him?" He asked, but you didn't really answered. He knew the answer himself. He could see it in your eyes. When you looked at him in the restaurant, he saw a gleam in your eyes, something that he hadn't seen inside there before. It hurt him, because he liked you, but he couldn't make you love him or even like him. If Bjorn was the man who could make you happy, he would ve happy as well. People said that if you love someone, you let him go. That was what he was going to do.

"I have never stopped loving him. You are a good guy, you truly are. But for me there is only Bjorn. My Gods have decided that I am made to love him, but we can't be together, things between us are complicated. Sorry, if that hurts, but I can't stop it. I wanted to forget about him and be with you. I tried, but I can't control my feelings." You spoke and your eyes teared up. What you said was the truth. It was upon you these feelings, you didn't have the power to banish them. Your tears were streaming insanely from you eyes. You couldn't even control that.

"I understand you. That kind of love is difficult, if not impossible, to die. If you are happy because of him, I am happy, as well. Just not cry. You have nothing to be sorry about. It's your feelings, you can't change them. I really like you, yeah, and I want to fight for you, but I know that I will lose." He said and stopped walking, you stopped, as well. His hands cupped your hand and his thumbs wiped away your tears. "You shouldn't cry. That eyes aren't made for crying. Don't let him leave, (Y/N). You are suffering without and he is suffering too. Actually, he probably wants to kill me. His eyes were throwing daggers to me. I am lucky because eyes can't kill." He said and you smiled. He was so sweet. He even tried to make you smile after all this.

"His piercing blue eyes can kill you know." You said and both of you laughed. After a small conversation, he left. You sat on a bench and looked at the starry night sky. Madrid was busy at night. People were laughing and having fun. You were watching them having fun in a try to forget about your own thoughts, but that seemed impossible. Bjorn were always there, inside your mind, haunting your thoughts. You would never find the peace you wanted, because there is no peace when you are away from only person you care so much about. You would only find your peace by his side, but even there the problems would exist.

A very familiar scent invaded in your nostrils. You lifted your gaze and saw his face. He sat down next to you and for a moment or so no one of you really talked. You were just watching the busy streats. You were sure that he could listen your heart pounding inside your chest. You were together after two whole months and your skin was burning. Your hearts couldn't stop beating so fast. You were sure that if it continued to beat like that, it would be ripped off your chest. You turned to look at him, he was looking at you. Blue piercing eyes met with yours and they stayed there.

"Were is your..... friend?" He said playfully and took a cigarette out of his pocket. He placed it on his lips and light it up. You watched every single movement of his. "Do you want one?" He offered yiu cigarette and you took it. He seemed surprised by this, because you didn't really smoke before. He light it up for you and you inhaled the smoke and then exhaled. Now he was watching your movements. "I thought you hate smoking." He continued and you turned again to him.

"Yes, I hated it, but I guess I have adopted bad habits since I came here. As for Olaf, he probably went to his home or somewhere else. He is a good guy, but not for me." You said and looked back at the street. You exhaled the smoke before you start talking again. "What about your friend?" You asked, trying to sound like you didn't care, but in fact you did. You wanted to ask why he was here, sitting next to you, when he could ve somewhere with that blonde doll, you saw him with, but you were a coward. He smiled. He had succeeded, you were jealous.

"Probably somewhere with her girlfriend." He answered and you looked at him frowned. You couldn't understand. He threw away his cigarette and moved closer to you. You did the same. His hands cupped your face and he looked deep in your eyes. "You were crying. You know that I hate it when you cry." He whispered and his thumbs caressed your cheeks. You closed your eyes for a moment.

"Why did you come here, Bjorn? Don't tell about some stupid deal, I won't believe it." You said and he sighed.

"I came for you, (Y/N). I thought I was fine when you left, that I didn't need you. I was angry with you for leaving me, but I didn't want to admit it. I tried to lay with some women, but you were always there, I couldn't stop thinking about you. I need you. I-I..... love you." He confessed and you tears fell from your eyes again. His thumbs on your cheeks wiped them away. "Come back home." He whispered and you closed your eyes again.

"I tried to forget about you, to start a new life here away from my old one, I even found a man that wasn't you, but nothing seemed to work out, because of my mind. You were, you are always inside there haunting my thoughts. I don't really sleep, you eyes don't let me. Earlier today, I told Olaf about us and he understood. He told me not to let you leave. He even told me that I am suffering when I am not with you and I am not going to deny it. I love you too much to bear living without you, Bjorn." You whispered and he smirked, but not for long. His lips pressed on yours, in a fierce and rough kiss. He was biting you hungrily within the kiss. You loved it. You loved all the marks that he left to your body each time, hickeys, scratches, bites, bruises, you were used to that. He gripped your body firmly, he didn't mean to harm you. He was just getting too much exciting about this and he couldn't handle himself. He hurt you sometimes because of his size and his fast pace, but you liked it. At first it was a little painful, but then it was only pleasure.

When you stopped kissing, you looked at his eyes again. All this was like a dream. He smiled at you and you did the same. He didn't smile often. Most of the times he was angry and his eyebrows were knitted, because of anger.

"So this means that you are coming back." He said and you nodded.

Your relationship didn't work out at first, but it would in the future. Everything would be different after this night. After all this time you were apart, he knew that he needed you, that he loved you. He had loved other woman before, but no one of them made him feel this way. What he felt for you wasn't something that he could handle or control. He liked being in control and that drove him crazy. He would try to be the right man for you. He wanted to be ans he would.

#vikings bjorn #bjorn lothbrok #bjorn ragnarsson #bjorn ironside #bjorn imagine #bjorn x reader #vikings imagine #vikings x reader

149 notes · View notes

winterscaptain · 3 years

Text

balancing out.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: thank you all for your patience this week! i hope you enjoy this one - a few of you have been asking for mom’s route 66 moment. here it is! i’ve got some really fun graphics comin out this weekend, so keep an eye out!

words: 3k warnings: canon typical mentions of injury and death, language

summary: “accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart.” ― marcus aurelius, meditations. au!january 2021

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!

Haley’s sitting next to you when you snap to, sitting on a bench in a park. The same park, in fact, down the block from the apartment where you first lived with Aaron and Jack in 2012.

This is the park where Jack learned to play soccer…

You have a feeling that something terrible has happened, that something isn’t right.

“Don’t worry about that, right now,” Haley says, startling you a little. “You’re safe.”

You look at her, finding her surprisingly aged in the time since you last saw her. “Haley? It really is you, isn’t it?”

She smiles at you. “Glad you can still recognize an angel when you see one.” There’s something behind her voice, the glints of her offbeat sense of humor you love so much.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you snort. “You’re not an angel.”

She shrugs with a wry smile. “Maybe not, but then again, maybe none of us are.”

You take a moment to look around, finding the park exactly the same as you left it. Except, you note, you’re the only people there. The playground rests empty of children, curious dogs are absent from the grounds, couples lounging in the grass are nowhere to be found.

Why here? Why now?

All at once, the memory rushes over you.

“Aaron,” you say, struggling for breath. You cough, and something wet crawls up your throat, making you cough again. Something dark lands in spatters across Aaron’s face and the collar of his shirt. You feel the compulsion to brush it away, but one of your arms feels leaden, trapped.

He’s crying. And talking.

“Hang on, baby. Hang on. I’m here.”

All you can say is his name, over and over, as you reach for him with the arm . There’s blood on your hands and part of you realizes you’re dying, probably.

“What happened?” You hear yourself sputter.

Aaron shushes you, brushing a shaky hand over your forehead. “It’s okay. You’re fine. You’re going to be okay. I love you. I’m here. You’re gonna be just fine.”

It sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself rather than you. You don’t mind.

Everything goes dark.

“Haley…” You look over at her again and she grabs your arm, stemming your panic.

She shushes you once, short. “You’re fine.”

Tears pool in your eyes before falling down your cheeks. “I don’t want to die. I’m not ready to go. Aaron, the kids, they - ”

“You’re not going to die,” she assures you, standing and holding her hand out to you. “You’re just spending some time with me for a little while. Is that okay?”

Her small, concerned frown warms you, and you know she’s actually asking. There’s a kind of understanding that she’ll just go away and you’ll be left in the darkness if that’s what you want.

It’s not.

“Yeah,” you reply. “That’s okay.”

“Good.” Her face brightens and you stand. She tucks your hand into the crook of her arm and the two of you begin to walk, the landscape transforming around you.

It doesn't make a lot of sense. You seem to walk through the park, then the apartment where you lived when Isaac was a baby, then the new house in Woodbridge with the twins, then the bullpen, all the way down the block to a house you recognize as Aaron and Haley’s - the big house they bought when they moved to D.C. in ‘98.

The house where she died.

“I have a couple people who really want to see you,” she says, by way of explanation. “I figured it would be easiest to meet here.”

You step up to the porch and into the house, removing your shoes out of habit. There’s no trace of the blood or broken glass from the Foyet altercation. Everything seems in place, right down to Jack’s army men neatly arranged on the living room coffee table.

It even smells the same - the light, floral smell of Haley’s perfume and something you can only describe as Aaron winds through the house, making it feel more lived-in than any time you’d been inside it after the divorce.

“Momma!” A little girl with dark hair streaks across the room and throws herself into your arms.

You catch her and bring her close. She’s probably six years old, maybe a little younger. When she leans back to look at you, you’re met with Aaron’s eyes.

The recognition is immediate and you grin at her. “Hi, baby girl.”

She smiles back at you, a mirror image. “Auntie Haley told me you’d come to visit.”

“Did she?” You look over at Haley, whose fondness for your daughter is open and obvious.

It’s only fair - my fondness for her son knows no bounds.

“Yep. Gramma’s here, too.”

You look around, your baby girl tucking into your chest as best she can given her size. Evelyn steps in from the back porch, closes the sliding door behind her, a glass of wine in her hand just like it would be in life, and smiles at you.

“Good afternoon, sweetheart,” she says, crossing the room to embrace you and press a kiss to your cheek. She and Haley look about the same age, maybe forty or forty-five. Her resemblance to Sean is more obvious in her youth, but Aaron’s still her own personal carbon copy.

You relax into her arms, your daughter squished between your bodies. “Hi, Mom.” On the first inhale, the smell of her detergent washes over you and tears spring into your eyes again. “I miss you.”

She laughs, leaning back to place one hand on your cheek and the other on your daughter’s shoulder. “I miss you, too. How are those girls? And my sweet boys?”

The thought of your family makes you smile and you attempt to push away the fear of leaving them…

Of leaving Aaron a widower again…

Stop.

“They’re perfect.”

Haley huffs from beside you. “Ev, can you please tell someone stubborn that dying isn’t an option here? At least, not right now?”

Evelyn smiles at you. “You’re not going to die, sweetheart. This is just a stopover point so you’re not alone. Aaron had one too, when he was in surgery a few years ago.”

“He told me,” you say, feeling a little more confident. “He told me he talked to Haley.”

“Yeah and I reminded him it’s a good idea to pull his head out of his ass every once in a while.”

You look over at her. “Thanks for that.”

She snorts. “I thought he’d never ask you. It was the least I could do.”

+++

Eventually, you end up on the back porch, sitting in the lawn chairs with the other Hotchner women. Time seems to move differently here, the golden light of the evening hours stretches far beyond what you’re used to, but it's nice. It’s not cold, not too warm, just comfortable.

You hear the gate open and a familiar voice calls, “I thought I might find you here.”

Standing, still keeping your little girl on your hip, you embrace Jenny with your free arm.

Her smile is just as bright and warm as the first day you met her. Your daughter wiggles out of your grip and latches onto Jenny’s slacks.

“Auntie Jenny, did you bring Aunt Shannon with you?”

She shakes her head. “Not today, sweetie. Today is for your momma.”

You take a seat on the arm of Haley’s chair and she snags her finger into your belt loop and says, “It’s almost time to go back.”

You look back at her, a kind of forlorn feeling creeping up in your chest. “Can you come with me?”

With a rueful little smile, she shakes her head. “No. But, I can show you something.”

A screen sort of comes from nowhere, propped like a drive-in movie on the other side of the yard. Foyet’s there, manning the projector. You squint at him and he shoots you a salute and blows Haley a kiss. She catches it with a smile and a fond shake of her head.

By way of explanation, Haley says, “Things are a little different here. If they weren’t different here, they’d be different there.” She points at the screen and you redirect your attention.

Time moves a little differently, but you learn that you’re watching your life unfold as if Haley hadn’t died, as if the most pivotal moment in your life with Aaron hadn’t happened at all.

You see years pass by on the screen - Foyet is eventually caught and killed (by Derek - a surprise). Haley and Jack come home.

Aaron and Haley come to an understanding, and you make up the tripod in their odd little fitful family unit. Aaron moves back into the big house on the river - he’s never there anyways and he sleeps in the room that used to be his office when he is home.

Emily actually dies. That one is another, rather more unpleasant, surprise.

When you look at Haley, she tells you, “Where there is death, there will always be death, eventually. It balances out, one way or another.”

With Haley in the picture, Aaron isn’t as fearless in love as he learned to be with you, doesn’t have as much perspective. He’s riddled with self-doubt and addled with fears of disappointing her, of disappointing you.

You and Aaron dance around each other for years and years and years - it’s almost 2015 before he kisses you for the first time, almost another two years before he finally asks you out, another one before you get married, another one before you have your first child.

Upon seeing him, you can tell he’s not Isaac. He’s a different boy, one that looks more like Aaron than you, who’s remarkably neurotypical, loud, and much scrappier than Isaac.

Jack doesn’t call you ‘Mom’ and you’re not as close.

Things are...wrong.

Well, maybe not wrong, but they aren’t the same. Even with the added joy of having Haley in your lives after the fear and uncertainty, you’re acutely aware that this is the timeline that was warped in some way or another. Everything feels delayed or just off.

You never have the twins or move into the Woodbridge house. Aaron doesn’t close the gap with Sean, who overdoses after a tumultuous battle with his addictions and demons.

There’s a kind of smallness to that life that you don’t have in yours.

The images fade, leaving the blank screen, after what seems like an eternity spent experiencing an alternate reality that you might have wished for if you didn’t know any better.

Haley tugs on your belt loop. “See? Couldn’t stay, can’t go back. The life you have is the best one that exists. And,” she adds with another little wry smile, “the only one you’ve got.”

Jenny places her hand on your shoulder, your daughter still stuck to her leg like glue. “You’re not done yet.”

“And,” Haley adds, “you have another surprise coming next year - around August.”

At your squint, she continues with a little smile.

“I’m not going to tell you, so you’ll have to stick around and find out.” She winks. “Thank me later.”

When she stands, you follow Haley to the front porch. The rest follow behind you like a little band of ducklings. Even Foyet, who could be an unwelcome interloper, seems like a member of the family. Evelyn passes him a glass of iced tea when she settles in the doorway.

It’s kind of funny, if you’re honest.

“Aaron and Jack will be there when you wake up. Jessica has the little ones at home.” Haley holds your hands as she speaks, swinging them back and forth a little. “You’re…” She sighs, “really hurt. Like, really really hurt. You’re gonna be out of work for a little while, and your lung capacity will be pretty fucked...forever. You’ll be able to do everything, but you’ll need to take more breaks than you’re used to.”

Your lower lip disappears into your mouth. “How’s Aaron?”

“Terrified.”

+++

Aaron sits by your bedside holding your hand, watches the way your chest mechanically rises and falls with the ventilator. They intubated you right away to give your lung the space it needed to heal, but all he wanted was to hear your voice before they put you under, just one more time.

It’s been a wretched three days. Your surgery seemed to stretch on forever, digging the bullet out of your chest, repairing the gunshot wound that shattered four ribs and perforated your left lung in six places.

After surgery, you coded after your lung collapsed again due to a pulmonary embolism. That little incident sent you right back to surgery and Aaron’s blood pressure to the stratosphere.

Since then, you’ve been stable, quiet, and, in the doctor’s words, “lucky to be alive.”

He can still feel the blood you coughed up running over his fingers and landing on his face, the shallow heaving of your breath under his hands.

Images of Haley and Kate and Emily flashed before his eyes as he tried to hold you together - horrible, horrible reminders.

Would he lose you in the field, like Emily?

Would he lose you in surgery, like Kate?

Would he be too late, like Haley?

Selfishly, the thought of playing the part of a single parent to four young children scared the hell out of him. The twins were hardly two and a half, Isaac almost five. Jack…

He really hoped he wouldn’t have to hold Jack’s hand as he delivered another eulogy for another person he called ‘Mom.’

If he was a single parent again, he would be tasked with raising three more children who wouldn’t know their mother - wouldn’t remember you after some time.

Just like Jack with Haley.

He was terrified of becoming a shell of a man without you, leaving his children practically orphaned overnight.

Sitting in the waiting room during your first surgery, he decided that he’d quit. He’d take whatever the bureau offered and quit for the sake of his children, for the sake of Jack and Isaac and Caroline and Sophia. He wouldn’t let them lose another parent to the field, to the relentless pursuit of evil.

Now, beside you, he holds your hand and talks to you as much as he can, knowing all the while you can’t hear him.

+++

“I love him, Haley.”

She grins at you while Foyet rolls his eyes. “I know you do.” Pausing as if to think for a moment, she adds, “When you wake up, don’t panic. You’re intubated. It’s...” Her head wavers back and forth a little as she searches for words. “...Unnerving. And uncomfortable. But you’re tough.”

She kisses your cheek, Evelyn and Jenny give you a hug, and Foyet kisses your hand.

“Say hi to big man Aaron for me, will ya?” He asks.

You snort and shake your head. “Gimme a break.”

He shrugs. “Worth a shot.”

+++

Your eyes snap open and you see the ceiling before anything else. Remembering what Haley said, you try to ignore the deeply uncomfortable pressure in your throat, chest, and mouth as you squeeze Aaron’s hand. Jack’s asleep, his long legs curled up like a little spider in the little corner chair.

Aaron meets your eyes and immediately reaches for the call button, assuring you, “You’re alright. You’re intubated, honey. Don’t try to talk. Just a second, I promise.”

The nurse arrives and takes care of your ventilator. You take it like a champ, mostly to avoid scaring Aaron any further. Your voice is raspy and worn when you speak.

“Hey.”

He takes a shaky breath. “You scared the hell out of me.”

A little chuckle leaves you and you cough once. It hurts. “Did you think you could get rid of me that easily?”

“That easily,” he scoffs, reaching for a lidded cup of water with a straw. “Your left lung practically exploded. You think that’s easy?”

You take the cup of water, pulling small sips. It instantly soothes your throat and you latently realize you have a feeding tube winding its way up your nose and down your throat.

That’s a problem for another time.

“Easy enough. You were stabbed multiple times - I hardly think one-upmanship is useful here.”

Your humor has the intended effect. His shoulders relax and he leans over, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Before you ask,” you tell him, “I feel like hell.”

“Yeah I bet.” There’s a little laugh in it.

“I saw Haley, though. And our little girl. She’s almost six now.”

Aaron perches on the edge of your bed, still holding your hand. “Tell me about her.”

You do, as best you can remember. Things are disappearing from your memory, but you cling to the important bits. You tell him what you saw, how life would be different if Haley had lived, the way you two talked about him, the way his daughter fits seamlessly into the lives of those they’ve lost.

“So she’s alright.”

You nod. “She’s perfect. Haley’s taking excellent care of her, of course.”

“Only fair,” he says.

“My thoughts exactly.”

+++

You’re in and out of sleep, but eventually, they remove the feeding tube and let you sit up to eat some bland pasta with some juice. It’s the best meal you’ve had in what feels like years.

Jack sits on your good side, tucked under your arm and drinking all your cranberry juice and showing you the new games Dave got him on his Nintendo DS. The girls sit at your feet, playing with some blocks Aaron brought them. They’re attempting to stack them on your shins to no avail.

Isaac’s sleeping against your chest. It hurts to breathe with him there, but you don’t want him anywhere else.

It’s Aaron’s turn to sleep. He’s got untouched files on the little table beside the chair, just as he usually does. Maybe one day he’ll give up trying to pretend to do work with one of the team hospitalized.

Haley’s right. This is the life you’re supposed to have.

+++

tagging: @quillvine @stxrryspencer @hurricanejjareau @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @hotchsflower @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @jdougl-love @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @qvid-pro-qvo @mandylove1000 @jeor @roses-and-grasses @word-scribbless @bwbatta @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @joanofarkansass @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @ssahotchnerr @this-broken-band-girl @winqhster @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @the-falling-in-the-danger @crazyshannonigans @softbibxtch @iconicc @mangoberry43 @andreasworlsboring101 @kerrswriting @mac99martin @itsalwaysb33nyou @baumarvel @kerrswriting @messyhairday-me @ssworldofsw @deagibs @moonshinerbynight @jhiddles03 @teamhappyme @mendesmelodies @starsandasteroids @unicorn-bitch @ambicaos

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #tali writes fanfiction #tali talks cm #a joyful future #a joyful future fanfic

341 notes · View notes

kim-ruzek · 3 years

Text

Messy, chaotic perfection

Summary: Family isn't just who is blood, but who is in your corner, who makes you feel loved and cared for, who is safe and who is home.

Season 8 au, goes off if Kim never miscarried, Burzek are together, and season eight still went somewhat how it did.

Warnings: mentions of canon events (shooting, foster situations).

Word Count: 3.5k

Read on AO3

Notes: This is a Feel Better fic for the amazing, incredible and so, so strong and brave Cíara (@fighterkimburgess ). Cíara I love you, you deserve the world, and you deserve to know that I (and all of us in this fandom) have your back and wish you all the best in your life ♥️

Life can be unpredictable, events that you never expect to happen can occur and feel like that was always meant to happen all along. This is a lesson Kim has learnt over and over throughout her life, but one she’s only finally beginning to fully understand it, that it’s always going to happen in ways you don’t expect.

Like today.

Today, when she woke up, Kim thought she’d have a tiring day at work with all the racists that Kevin, and by extension them since Kevin is their family, is having to deal with but that it would be relatively drama free and she and her boyfriend—which is a word, that no matter how juvenile it sounds, makes her feel all giggly inside at—would come home and have a nice relaxing evening with their daughter.

She didn’t expect Patrol to not show up when they called and she definitely did not expect Adam to get shot. But that is life, as Kim has kept learning recently.

“Careful, let me grab the door.” Kim quickly darts in front of a very impatient and unfussed Adam, moving so she can unlock and open their front door before he can. Adam sighs.

“Kim, I’m not an invalid.” He grumbles and she flashes him a glare before she opens up the door.

“Adam, you were shot.” She holds up her hand. “And no I don’t care if it’s was in the vest. You were shot and you were lying there and I thought you were dead. And now you’ve got a bruise on your chest and Will said that you have to take it easy—it could affect your lungs if you overwork yourself.”

Kim already knows that she’s probably going to spend the next few weeks seeing Adam lying there on the grass whenever she shuts her eyes. Just like she knows that Adam gets why she’s being so fussy, even if he’s being his typical bad patient self.

“I can still open doors. You know I like opening our door for you,” At that, Kim turns away from the door, facing Adam. She closes what little distance they had between them, resting her hands gently on his chest.

“I know, but you’re injured. Let me look after you. And—we’ve only just found our way back together again, I don’t want to loose you, and I don’t want our daughter to loose you.” Adam’s eyes soften and he gently kisses her forehead.

“Yeah. I’m sorry, darlin’. I’m just stubborn.”

If this had happened years ago, this probably would’ve ended up making an even bigger dent in their relationship, and god knows if they’d be able to communicate—and truly understand each other back then. But they’re not those young people now, they’ve grown and learnt so much, and are completely dedicated to making this work.

Especially because they’re parents.

“Hey, Ally!” Adam is immediately greeting their six month old as soon as they enter the flat, Kim not far behind, the two parents cooing over her instantly.

“Can you hold her?” Trudy gives Adam a wary eye, holding the child she, without hesitation, claimed as her granddaughter. Normally they’d have their nanny here, taking care of Ally, but given that Adam was shot and had to be looked over, Trudy had relieved their nanny instead, just in case they arrived home later than usual.

“You’re as bad as Kim, of course I can,” Adam grumbles again, mostly with good humour. Still, Trudy glances at Kim just to double check, who nods and then Trudy is helping to pass the girl to her father. Usually, Adam would scoop the girl out of her arms with ease, but—showing that he is taking Will seriously, or at least their daughter’s safety seriously—he had hesitated, waited for Trudy to help.

“You should sit down, I’ll get dinner on.” Kim tells him. She then looks at Trudy. “Are you staying or going home? You’re welcome, of course.”

“I’ll leave the three of you be. Randall has his shift in the morning.” Trudy kisses her granddaughter good-bye—leaning down to do so, Ally babbling in Adam’s arms on the sofa—and then it’s just the three of them.

If you had told her a year and a half ago that this would be her life, Kim would struggle to belief you. Adam and her felt like history, something that never had the timing it deserved and that they’d only be relegated to friends with benefits.

And being a Mom? That was so far out from the cards Kim was dealt, she didn’t think it would happen for quite a few years, and even then, it felt like a impossible and distant thought.

But she has both. A relationship with Adam that is strong and decent and a proper, communicating relationship and the beautiful daughter who made it possible.

At first, Adam and her were determined to be co parents only. More her than him, if she was honest, but he understood her side.

But then Kim hit her second trimester and with it her renewed sex drive and inability to keep her hands off him and platonic co parents got more and more unbelievable—especially as they moved in together.

The reasons why they decided to just be platonic still hung over their head, however, and so they had to have a serious conversation—several, in fact—about their relationship and what it would look like and be like. They both knew that with a child in the mix, they had to be committed and determined because their baby would be impacted.

Kim did have worries about it, about if they could keep communicating and not fall back on old habits, but by the time Ally came along, their relationship had only grown stronger. The new-born stage is a tough time for parents, and they had their moments, but that only brought them even more closer and Kim now no longer has any of those worries.

Domestic bliss is something she’s always wanted to have, alongside a fulfilling job, and there’s days Kim can’t quite believe that she’s found it.

Her life isn’t perfect, no life is. And there’s tensions at work, and with their best friend going through some horrific stuff, life doesn’t feel easy. But they have each other, and they have Ally, and Kim keeps feeling like she’s reached as close to perfection as she could have.

When she was younger, Kim imagined that having perfection would be calm, would be peaceful. And maybe for others it is, but it’s not for her. There’s always some madness in her life; she’s a cop, after all. And she’s learned to appreciate the short peaceful moments that she gets. But sometimes, sometimes life is just quiet.

It had been a few weeks of quiet that Kim had realised her life hadn’t had any madness in it. Her and Adam were just going about their routine, day in, day out, watching as Ally continued to grow and marvel them and she realised that.

And then she knew instantly that the madness was coming.

It came the next day.

Adam and her had just picked up their morning coffee from a coffee shop. It had been a while since they could, usually having to make do with the district coffee—having a baby means time is precious and money is dear—but they did this morning, the two of them in a good mood and having a ridiculous conversation about boats.

And then there was a lost six year old girl walking through the road.

Everything got a lot more busy after that, as they tracked down her family and worked out what had happened.

Being a Mom has definitely changed Kim, and she had to go into a corner—Adam joining her, wrapping his arms around her—and have a little cry in the locker room. All she could think about her daughter, her Ally, loosing her family like that and it activated the still distantly present hormones leftover from her pregnancy.

And it made her more determined to help the little girl, Makayla, especially when the girl had apparently bonded to her. Kim was told that she was the best person to talk to her, and even though she’s a mother, she had doubted her abilities. There’s a difference between her baby who’s just learning to talk and move about to a traumatized six year old but the doubts were misplaced, Kim managing to get that connection.

Makayla had wanted her to come to the safe house with her, which Kim did. Luckily Adam was by Trudy’s desk and he gave her nod, telling her that Ally and him will be okay. Still, Kim was glad that she’s already had a night away from her daughter so that she could go with Makayla, so that she didn’t have to let down this vulnerable girl who needed her just as much.

The safe house had turned out to not be so safe, and Kim’s mama bear instincts—as Adam has affectionately coined—kicked in and she instantly said she’ll be taking Makayla home, no questions.

Of course, she had glanced at Adam, silently checking with him. Adam had nodded again.

“Ally’s already with her grandparents so yes, Makayla will be staying with us.” Adam had immediately supported her, his voice just as firm and decided. Kim had already worked out Ally was with Trudy and Mouch, as he was there and they are their emergency babysitters but she felt so lucky to have a partner who was willing to not have the night with his daughter for what she wants.

Seeing Adam interact with Makayla that night had made Kim’s insides twist, and she wonders if they might end up accidentally conceiving a second baby soon with how his paternalism stirred feelings inside her.

It left her feeling sadder than Kim would’ve thought to say goodbye to Makayla after everything was sorted, an emptiness in her heart. The girl had made an impact on her and it felt wrong to end the story there.

That night, Kim had hugged Ally close to her, Adam arm wrapped around her as he cuddled up to them.

“I think I want another,” Kim had said, and Adam choked. She had laughed, then, careful not to wake the sleeping baby on her chest.

“Not now or anytime soon. One baby is enough at one time. But in the future. This—us—being a family, it feels right and as perfect as our family is, I want it to be bigger.” She had explained. She’d have been nervous, but this is Adam, possibly the only person she knows whole heartedly that she can be herself, no judgement.

“Darlin’, nothing would make me happier.” He had kissed her temple firmly then, lacing their hands together and Kim got that feeling of perfect domestic bliss again.

“I’d say let’s have another right now but, yeah, one baby is enough. Although we could practice?” He then joked and Kim rolled her eyes at him.

It isn’t that long after that they’re at social services and Kim spots that precious six year old who, if Kim is honest with herself, hadn’t left her thoughts since, every few days Kim wondering if she’s okay, if she’s settling and adjusting and if the cousin Cathy would need to call her.

“Kim!” Makayla immediately runs to her, hugging her and Kim’s heart twists and constricts, warming at the gesture but breaking that she’s here.

They’re in the middle of a turbulent case, a case that plagues Kim, but her mind is still spilt, focused on worrying about Makayla.

“Where were you?” Adam asks her when she gets back from Cathy’s. Kim knows that she should’ve told him before, that going off alone like this when in a relationship and a parent isn’t how she should be behaving but as the couple’s therapist they went to say said, sometimes Kim can have tunnel vision. It’s something she’s working on, but sometimes she reverts back, like when a six year old needs her.

“I went to see Makayla’s Cathy.” Kim then tells him, and she tells him all about it.

“What if I take her in?” The words fall out Kim’s mouth before she can really process them. It’s nothing she should say, not just for the reasons Makayla’s social worker lists. But because Kim isn’t an I anymore. She’s in a relationship and she’s a mother. This isn’t just her life, but she can’t get Makayla—or the bond they have—out of her head.

After the conversation with her social worker, Kim sees Kevin. She wonders if she should ask him about this, about his siblings and that decision, knowing that he’ll have value to add to the conversation, especially as a black man. But she stops herself, knowing that she’s getting that tunnel vision again, that she needs to discuss this with Adam before she spirals too fast.

“I want to foster Makayla.” It isn’t the most tactful conversation, or the best place for it. But Kim’s mind is in overdrive and all she can think about is how she could feel at six, feeling like only Nicole loved her, and about that precious girl, and her own daughter.

“Us. I want us to foster Makayla.” Kim quickly amends, because they’re a team. Everything they do, they do together. They’re entwined and interlinked and the only way to make the relationship successful is by accepting and respecting that.

It’s a long conversation. It’s really not the time or place but that’s something that just doesn’t matter as much as talking. Kim tells Adam all about why she does, and he talks about how he feels. That he gets it, that he would want to give her a home just as much but has she thought this through.

They work out if they want it to only be temporary, how they’ll do it with Ally, if they’re ready and if they’re only doing this because they’re adapting to being parents, parents who often felt unloved as a child.

And they grab Kevin, adding him to the discussion, getting his two cents.

And then they come to a decision—that they should take Makayla home and they’re jumping into action. Kim calling the social worker, Adam arranging for Ally to be at her grandparents for the night as they get Makayla settled.

Everything picks up after that, quiet days rarely a thing even more than before.

They get Makayla into school, sets up their home so it feels more like hers, they get her into therapy and family therapy. They introduce her to Kevin, knowing he will have to play an important role in their foster daughter’s life.

Makayla adores Ally from the first time they meet, treating her with such care and love and Ally immediately bonds to her. It fills Kim with such joy and affection, and makes her heart feel so, so soft.

Kim was worried that them having Ally already would make Makayla feel like an add on, but it has the opposite affect, making her feel more like part of the family—two weeks in, Makayla tells Kim that she always wanted a little sister, and Kim’s happy that she may not have been able to save Makayla’s family, but at least she could do something.

It’s not smooth sailing. It’s tough and it’s work. Nights were hell, Makayla waking up screaming and rousing Ally, but it gets better, especially after they get Makayla trouble dolls. It’s an adjustment, for sure, but it’s fulfilling.

For Adam too, who’s taken to calling Makayla his lil darlin’ and all three of them his girls. Kim already knew he is a great dad, but seeing him dress up and play with Makayla, and being so calm and loving through her trauma just reaffirms that over and over, making Kim feel so happy that she gave them another chance.

Makayla is family long before the adoption going through.

Mack is one of the first words Ally says, reaching for her sister as she did so. Kim—and Adam, as they discussed it later—will never forget the utterly joyful grin that had spread across Makayla’s face at that.

“Ally said my name!” Makayla had exclaimed to them happily, and proceeded to tell everyone she saw over the next week, her excitement and joy never waning.

Trudy and Mouch immediately accept Makayla as another grandchild and the rest of the family treats Makayla like she belongs. Kim never had any doubts, but it warmed her heart to see how much Makayla clearly loved and was taken by it—and how it made her feel so much more settled, knowing she’s gained so much family even after loosing so much.

Sylvie takes it upon herself to be her honorary godmother and Makayla quickly learns that Sylvie is one of the best to play princesses with. Stella comes with Sylvie one day and Makayla is immediately enamoured by her, and soon Stella decides Makayla needs two godmothers.

The Atwaters are an essential part of their family, as they help Makayla keep that connection to her black culture, helping to make sure her identity doesn’t get lost and that she doesn’t feel like she has to pick sides between her old and new life.

Makayla and Uncle Kev have a day every month, just them, doing whatever they want. It’s not even about doing anything relating to their shared skin tone, but just a routine to establish that Kevin is there for her.

Jordan takes to Makayla quickly, as well, finding her cute and endearing. He tells them that she reminds him of Vinessa at that age, and quickly starts calling her his little cousin—another thing that Kim knows helps makes her feel like part of the family.

Makayla loves her ‘big cousin', Jordan often teaching her age appropriate jokes and helping her play harmless pranks. He also teaches her some dance moves, and laughs with her when she tries to teach Adam them, who fails spectacularly.

Jordan loves Ally as well, having seen Kim as part of his family for years but Kim knows that they’ll never have the bond that Jordan and Makayla have, and it’s something that makes her feel warm and fuzzy inside—that Makayla with have things that’s just hers, that she won’t ever feel like she’s in her little sister’s shadow. It’s important, Kim thinks, and she’s glad of it. Makayla is no less her daughter than Ally and deserves to never feel like she is.

Makayla is family before she is legally, before she’s adopted into a family who barely has any blood in common anyway. But the day the adoption goes through is a joyous day for all of them.

“I love you.” Makayla has said it to them before, and more to Ally. But that day she says it and it’s louder than a shy whisper but firm and sure and Kim can’t help getting teary eyed as they hug her, assuring their daughter that they love her too, so much.

“Thank you for wanting to be my mom and dad.” Makayla says that night, so earnestly and Kim tears up again, Adam too. And nothing has ever felt so right. Kim knows she’ll never replace her mom, and she doesn’t want to, and she knows that Makayla might not ever call them mom and dad but they are and Makayla sees them as that and it feels so right.

“We’ve got two daughters.” Kim giggles against Adam’s chest that night, when everyone is asleep.

“That we do. And we got to skip the baby stage so we could get our two daughters straight away,” Adam replies, referencing their conversation from the night Makayla went home with Cathy. Kim laughs again, cuddling against her fiancé—as of a week ago.

Life is unpredictable. It’s messy and chaotic and full of madness, and Kim’s learnt and accepted that. And life is wonderful and amazing, and not despite of that, but because of that.

Two years ago, Kim would not see herself like this. In bed with Adam, her fiancé, their two daughters sleeping and feeling like she’s got the most perfect life. And it’s all because life is unpredictable.

Kim used to think that perfect meant calmness. And then she thought that can’t be her life, because she’s choose a mad and crazy life, a life not designed to be calm. But as she lies in bed that night, Adam cuddling her, Kim knows that’s wrong.

Life does mean calmness, but not because her life is quiet and calm, but because it’s messy and chaotic. It’s messy and chaotic and it’s hers. She has all what she ever wanted, fulfilled in all areas, and it doesn’t matter if it’s unpredictable because that’s the beauty of it.

There’s such a peace and calmness inside of her, an ease that has been brought on only by the messy, imperfection and unplanned events of her life—and that’s what makes everything feel perfect; perfect within the chaos.

#burzek #chicago pd #kim burgess x adam ruzek #burzek fic #chicago pd fanfiction #ree writes #ree's.writing #Cíara tag

33 notes · View notes

tipsydipsydo · 3 years

Text

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Gender of the Reader: female

Word Count: 3.5k

Rating: 18+

Genre: Angst; Fluff; Smut

AU: Historical/Middle Age! AU

Warnings: arranged + forced marriage; gender roles according to the period; sexual themes + sexual language; Praising; Body-Worship; Nipple Play; Fingering; First experience of an orgasm; Loss of virginity (unprotected Sex)

Summary: You're getting married tomorrow and you want to say goodbye to your mare. There you met the stable boy Taehyung for the last time, who's your best friend and childhood crush at the same time. You will experience a stormy night full of love and passion and you'll give the biggest proof of love to him...

[Links]:

▪My Writings

▪Blog Navigation

「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

With a thumping heart you peep around the corner, but the cold hallway with high stone walls lies quietly in front of you, only a few candles in their stands lit up the long corridor. The servants must have finally retired to their own rooms and even the last noises in the courtyard has fallen silent. It must be close to midnight, but you couldn't sneak away earlier. The danger of being caught has been too big. But now you grab the thin skirt of your white night gown and lift it a little bit up, so that you could walk as silently as possible along the corridor, across the courtyard to the horse stable. Light-footed you quickly put one foot in front of the other, the bright Full Moon guides you with its light the way to the stable. Quietly you open the small side door and slip in, where you’re greeted the familiar smell of horse, hay and leather.

Here, too, the torches were extinguished late. Just thinking about what a momentous day tomorrow will be will make you sick and silent tears run down your cheeks. Tomorrow you will be your wedding with a man who was already over thirty years old when you were born and whom you didn't even really know. He was here once two months ago so that you two could „get acquainted" with each other. Theobald, as he is called, has a bald head, an ugly potbelly and with every, almost frightening smirk you could get a glimpse of yellow teeth. At your first meeting, he had already patterned you with such a disgustingly lustful look that a cold shudder ran down your back and still makes you nauseous at the thought of it.

Your eyes are slowly getting used to the darkness, fortunately some Moonlight falls through the small ventilation hatches, so you can reach the last Box without tripping over something. Securely you open the door and gently push the butt of my beloved Grey Mare Estrilda to the side. Curiously, she lifts her big, noble head and turns a little to you. As if she knows what will happen to you tomorrow, she tenderly presses her head against your chest. Until now you had only cried quietly for yourself, but now, you bury your face in her soft, long mane and let your feelings run free. Why didn't your mother, when you were born, take action against being promised to such an old man?

But every time you asked her, she just shrugged with her shoulders helplessly and murmured softly,"that's just how it is, Y/N. I wanted to talk to your father, but he only saw the opportunity in finally reconciling two hostile Empires. With this marriage. You have to believe me, dear. I was hoping for something different for you. That you will be happier than I am. That you can live your life more in more freedom."

You have always been different, your curiosity, your stubbornness and your self-confidence do not correspond to the expectations one has of a daughter of the noble family. You love horses and riding, you can't do anything with jewelry, dresses out of expensive silk and velvet or perfumes. You loved to ride in the big hunt at least once a year and go hunting with your falcon Alan. You are not interested in the easy, comfortable life as the wife of a nobleman. You would much rather have helped once in the kitchen and learned how to cook a meal. But this was strictly forbidden to you, after all you are not a maid! Your wish is simply to be allowed to be as you want it to be. You do not care whether it is appropriate for a woman of your rank or not.

Your body slowly calms down from the convulsion and one last time you take the smell of your beloved mare deep into your lungs. Because she will stay here while you return to his estate with your new husband. That would become your new home. Although the wedding party will be celebrated here... but you will spend our wedding night with him on his castle. Then you will be trapped in the clutches of a sadistic, cruel and heartless ruler. You have heard some whisperings and rumors from the other Kingdom. The thought lies like a bitter, putrid taste on your tongue and your stomach twists at the thought that you have to show yourself naked to this disgusting man. You would rather burn at the stake as a wicked whore than surrender your virginity to him.

Suddenly, you hear the clatter of a fallen bucket and a dull cursing behind you, which is why you‘re startled and push yourself out of instinct into the darkest corner of the horse box. In vain, because the shadowy figure steps closer and opens the box door. Your heart beats fast, who is that and would he betray you for wandering around in the stable at night? But your anxious heart romptly calms down as you look into the soft and gentle face of Taehyung, the stable boy.

"Y/N? What are you doing here, wouldn't you have to sleep since a long time? After all, tomorrow is your wedding.", the last sentence spit Taehyung literally out. A relieved smile comes to your lips when you see your only and best friend. "Taehyung...", you murmur and fall into his arms, trying your best to suppress a sob. His muscular arms are wrapping themself around you, holding you and run tenderly his fingers through your hair.

The first time you met was on your eleventh birthday when you received Estrilda as a birthday present and he was assigned to look after the welfare of your horse. At that time he had already been fifteen, and now, nine years later, he has matured into a handsome twenty-Four year old man. He is the only one who ever understood you and even offered to run away with him when you found out about your marriage. But you would be looked for all over the country and everything would be more like a deadly skewer, which is why you sadly but thankfully refused. Above all, you do not want to expose your beloved mother to the cruel anger of your father, he would blame her if one morning you could no longer be found. It is inevitable that you must marry this disgusting, sadistic devil, whether you like it or not. But one thing you will decide for yourself...

Taehyung's masculine smell of sweat and horse calms you down more than ever and you snuggle up sobbing at his chest, steeled muscles from the daily hard work. You let your feelings run free and enjoys the gentle caresses he gives you. He is even more against the wedding than you and you have already guessed the reason for a long time. He develops feelings for you, which would go beyond your normal friendship-relationship. This assumption triggers a gentle flutter in your stomach and you wish you could be even closer to him than you already are. You both knew it, but you have never really said it out loud. For this fact requires no words. You’re in love with each other.

It was clear from the beginning that this fragile love has no future, and yet it feels so right, even though it is completely wrong. But he gives you the affection and attention that even your own mother could never give to you. Tonight, you want to give something to Taehyung that would belong to himcompletely alone. Nobody could ever steal it from him, this gift is irreplaceable.

It would be your virginity. If you have to marry such a cruel man, you want to give your innocence to someone who has proved to be worthy enough. Taehyung is worthy for it.

You detach yourself a little from his chest and look up into those beautiful dark brown eyes in which you‘re threaten to drown every time. Your fingers glide up to his strong neck, through his soft, black curls and tug on them gently until he moans softly.

“Tae... From tomorrow we will not see each other again. We only have this night left. I have already given you my heart, it will remain yours forever. But tonight I want to give you something else... My virginity shall be yours.”, you breathe softly against his lips.

Taehyung startles and looks down at you in disbelief. "B-But Y/N...I-I could never accept something like this! Such a thing like your virginity belongs to Theo-", he rambles overwhelmed and want to turn your opinion against that idea,but you just press your lips almost violently onto his.

"No. It should never belong to Theobald. If I already have to make the marriage covenant with him, then I want to be able to decide by whom my virginity will be token!", you reply to your lover and bite him hard into the lower lip.

He is still visibly surprised, but now your passion reaches him too and he respond with the same desire to your kiss. Your tongues find each other and starts a wild catching game. Heat rises in your bodies, reaches every pore of your body and makes this unknown feeling of pleasure pulsate through your veins. You long for Taehyung's love, one last time you want to feel his affection before you go to hell tomorrow. At least once you want to see heaven before you are banished to hell for the Rest of your life. The breath of your loved one becomes faster, he is panting, this kiss alone pushes you both in such a tremendous passion, which you have kept so forcibly hidden from each other otherwise.

"L-Let‘s go to the hayloft...", Taehyung murmurs at your neck in a deep, hoarse voice. You nod breathlessly, you are completely overwhelmed by the feelings that a simple kiss can trigger in you if you just love someone with your whole heart. Securely, you climb one by one the narrow wooden ladder up to the hayloft and you two throw tightly wrapped up into the hay. Your lips can hardly keep away from each other. The desire and longing for Taehyung increases every moment.

"Please...", you whisper in a whimpering voice, your body feels like it's on fire and this unknown longing for union drags you into a swirl. But Taehyung wants to get to know you and your breathtaking body, trying to memorize as much as possible. He never wants to forget how you look, feel, smell and taste. The cords of your nightgown are opened unnoticed by him, suddenly you just feel the scratchy hay under you and his loving hands on your skin.

"Beautiful.... So beautiful...", he mutters again and again under his breath. His eyes wanders over your exposed body, blown out eyes lingering on your breasts. Taehyung admired you silently since you’ve met for the first time, you always took his breath with your beauty away. Especially the last few years he realized what kind of effect you have on him, how you’ve grown up from the little wild princess to a confident young Lady. How his own and your Body has changed of the years and with it, how his maybe not so innocent desires awakened in him.

You are gorgeous, he can’t even describe your majestic body in words properly, you leave him speechless. You look better than in his sinfully fantasies he has at night, tossing his sweaty and needy Self around in Bed, trying to prevent those indecent thoughts about his own best friend. Well, his love of his life. He shouldn’t think that way about the princess, is he insane or something?! Still, he couldn’t reject his feelings for you, neither you could.

You both will end up in hell, you’re doing so sinful things right now but why they’re feeling so good? Why is it a sin to have such desires, to have the need to feel so close to each other, why are you sinning when you feel so much love, desire and pleasure that you couldn’t bear it anymore? You couldn’t understand and you would never.

„My royal highness, m-may I ask if you allow me to touch your Breasts?”, stutter Taehyung out, gulping hard and biting his lower lip in desperation. He knows he would hurt you somehow through fusion of your bodies but alone the thought of it hurts him right in his heart. Taehyung doesn’t wants to be the one who’s hurting you, he wants that you’ll keep this night as good as possible in your memory.

„O-Oh my god, Taehyung... d-don’t call me that, please just call me by my Name. ...and please, oh please touch me, I want to feel your Hands all over my Body!”, you pant out whimpering, arching your spine to encourage Taehyung in his actions.

A deep, longing moans leaves his lips, finally touching and kissing every conceivable part of your body. For the first time and probably also for the last time in your life, you will learn what this true love is. Something of which so many Minnesingers always sing about. It feels so indescribably good that the tears are just running down your cheeks, you can’t hold them anymore, you feel too good, too loved. Only this night you want to see heaven before you have to burn in hell as a deflowered whore until the end of your life. But this one time is worthy for you to sin. A lustful moan escapes your lips as his lips enclose one of your nipples and caress them tenderly with his tongue.

Countless whispers and pleads are falling from your slightly parted lips, you’re chanting his name like a mantra. Every noise that comes from your tongue let Taehyung‘s need to pleasure you even more grow. Almost helpless, as if you’re drowning, you grab Tae‘s strong Biceps and look up to him. Your eyes are sparkling from the tears which ran down your cheeks, the unconditional love in them is crushing Taehyung‘s Soul.

"Oh Y/N, I love you so much... I don’t know how to express them so they would portray the pure feelings I have for you in my chest, in my soul. Please let me show you something else...", he wispers into your ear, nibbling tenderly on your earlobe.

His other hand glides through the valley of your breasts, over your stomach down your sweet and hot center. You whine softly, you’re a little flustered, nobody touched you down there in such a way before. Almost automatically your thighs want to close again, just Taehyung’s gentle and caressing hand keep you from doing so.

"Shhh, my precious Angel, don’t be ashamed... you’re gorgeous and so beautiful, you can’t imagine how bad I want you. You smell so delicious, you’re driving me insane! Would you like to continue or should I stop? I will do whatever you want, just tell me..", murmurs Taehyung’s low voice, you can clearly hear the tremble of arousal in it. After you took a few deep breaths to calm your oversensitive nerves, you’re spreading slowly your thighs for him.

Taehyung‘s eyes are fixated on your face, watching patiently your facial reactions for any discomfort. Now, his hand is coming to life again and moves forward until it disappeared between your legs. His fingertips moves incredibly gentle over your soft pussy lips, slowly parting them and let his fingers soak in your lust juice. They run up and down, teasing your clit and preparing your entrance for his length.

Waves of Lust electrify your whole Body, every fiber and nerve is pumped full of sexual desire and you’re gasping for air. You’ve never felt that way before, you have no clue what kind of sweet spot that is but you want Taehyung to touch it over and over again.

Why does sinning feels so incredible good? You’re fallen for the devils work, you love sinning when it feels that amazing.

"Please, please, please... Taehyung, do that again, it feels so good-", you sob out, holding on his broad shoulders as if your life depends on him. Honestly, it does.

"Yeah? Does that feel good, my Princess? Do you want more?", rasps your beloved Taehyung. His fingers speeds up, flicking your cute little pearl with his thumb in a rapid pace now. His middle and ringfinger is pounding into your tight, pulsating channel and is stretching you open. His movement creates lewd squelching noises which makes you a little blush. The coil of lust in your abdomen grows unstoppable, you don’t know to handle this unfamiliar feeling. Your Body is shaking, whimpers and choked out whines filling the hay loft. You don’t understand what is happening, just pure unfiltered need and desire clouded your mind and you can’t think straight anymore.

"Oh my- Oh my god, Tae... I-I am... I don’t know what is happening-"

"I know Baby, everything is okay, just let yourself go... I‘m here, I will catch you when you’re falling apart..."

It just needs a few more strokes of his thumb on your oversensitive clit until the ball of pleasure bursts open and fills every pore of your body with pure ecstasy. You can’t hold your tears of pleasure back anymore, the small and so precious diamonds are rolling out of the corner of your eye until Taehyung’s Lips are catching them.

"Baby... are you alright? Did it felt good?", he asks quietly and rubs soothingly over the top of your thighs. Avoiding your center on purpose, he doesn’t want to overstimulate you even further.

"T-Tae... that- that felt so good... h-how did you do that? I-I can’t hold my tears back, I am sorry!" A weak sob leaves your lips and you bury your face into Taehyung’s chest. He caress you gently, whispering sweet nothings and praises into your ear, worshipping you to the fullest. Promising you to show you how you can make yourself feeling that good, teaching you how you can make love to yourself.

After you came down from your high, you gently grab the soft baby hair in his nape and move his face towards you.

"Taehyung, I want to feel you as close as possible, I want to merge with you, I want to make love to you- ...I want you.", you whisper and hold his face in your hands, looking him deep into his eyes.

"Oh, I will... I will serve you with everything you wants,my Dear. Please lay down and spread those beautiful legs for me again...", he answers and smile softly at you. The sweet love names he picked for you makes your stomach flutter und the blush on your cheeks is darkening. Taehyung gives you a last sweet smile full of love before your lips meet again and he pushes into you.

A short, stabbing pain flares through your body, but that was all. He holds still into you until you give him the permission to move. At first, it was a slow and gentle rhythm but your sweet moans and whimpers encourage him to go faster and in the end he looses all his control over his suppressed sexual needs. Making love to you in the most passionate way possible.

He shows you the heaven on earth and love takes on a whole new meaning for you. You trust him unconditionally and he shows you that you are equal. You are an equal woman, an equal person for him. He loves and respects you. All this is the most beautiful thing you have ever experienced in your life. You have given him your virginity and he has given you a son with these wonderful brown eyes and dark curls.

"Mother, why do you always cry when you see me? I didn't do anything today... ", asks your little six-year-old son and looked at you questioningly with those chocolate brown eyes that bring you to tears every time.

"You look so much like your father. Your real father."you say quietly.

"Did he hurt you, Mommy?", he asks with big fearfully eyes and you quickly shake your head.

"No, not at all! H-He had been the only man who had ever really loved me...“

„...the only one to whom my heart will forever belong."will you bring barely audible over your lips.

#btswritersguild #bangtanhq #bts smut #taehyung middle age au #bts x reader #bangtanarmynet #taehyung smut #bts medieval au #thehouseofbangtan #taehyung x reader #purplearmynet #bts x reader smut #bts angst #deflowered #bts fluff #bts x reader medieval

224 notes · View notes

yoonsshadow · 4 years

Text

ETERNAL - i

➳ summary ; They have died so often that death has lost its meaning; hurt so regularly that pain has become inconsequential; lost so much that they hold each other to the light of the stars. They have nothing yet they have everything, as long as they have each other. And, after centuries, they now have her.

➳ pairing ; bts!ot7 x fem!reader

➳ genres ; The Old Guard au; fantasy, historical, action, romance, alternate universe

➳ themes ; angst, fluff, death

➳ warnings ; murder, death, violence, blood, guns, burnt bodies, nudity [nonsexual], nightmares, drugs? [sleeping pills], a bunch of boys being in love

➳ word count ; 4.8k

➳ note ; I watched The Old Guard on Netflix [a serious recommend if you haven’t already seen it] and got hit with major inspiration. Nothing better than found-family and immortal soulmates. I put of a lot of time, effort and love into this, so please treat it with delicate hands. And please, please, give me feedback if you like it. Thank you, and enjoy :)

They have done this before, enough times—too many times—to be familiar with the routine.

The nightmares, all too vivid and yet frustratingly vague, of blood and pain and death. Glimpses of a face they have never seen, memories that do not belong to them. The lingering thoughts of why another, why now, why at all?

They have done this many times, and yet it never gets easier, never makes sense.

⎯⎯⎯

When they submit to the clutches of slumber, it is beneath the glowing moonlight that shines through the broken ceiling of an abandoned church. Overgrown with vines that hold the crumbling walls together and hidden behind bushes and weeds and shadows, this building will be safe, for them. For now. It may not provide much warmth, or much shelter, but it gives them a sense of anonymity that they so desperately depend on. Right now, it hides them from the world. They are nothing but each other’s, so long as they are here.

Usually, sleep brings peace. Long ago did they learn how to banish demons from their dreams, memories of pasts both true and terrible, and so through sleep they find temporary solace from the demands of their long lives. They hold each other in their warm arms, forget about their worries if only for a brief moment. They are but seven men, seven soulmates, seven loves, existing together without burden.

Until tonight.

It is familiar, the weight that descends upon their chests, pushes against their rib cages. An invisible force both squeezing them and pulling them apart, flooding them with vague images, sounds, feelings. In sleep, they hold each other tighter, safer, but they cannot escape the myriad of memories and thoughts that fill their minds.

A pair of eyes, so brown that they are pure, so dark that they are nearly black, blink at them as sweat begins to shine upon their skin. These eyes are young, but they hold wisdom, maturity, that can only come with death. Witnessing it, causing it, experiencing it. These eyes are filled with desperation in this moment, but also a stubborn determination; they know what is coming, and yet they will continue to fight until their dying breath, as they vowed⎯⎯

⎯⎯a uniform, black, stained with dirt and blood, without any identifying marks. No dog-tags, but a tan line around a soft neck where they would normally hang. Trained muscles behind firm fabric, knowledgeable fingers clutching a military assault rifle. Steel-toed boots, scuffs through the polish, dirt in the seams and drops of red in the laces⎯⎯

⎯⎯heart beating through chest, adrenaline spiking, but something’s wrong, this isn’t supposed to happen, how did they know we were coming? Need to get out, need to get to cover, need to save⎯⎯

⎯⎯the enemies found them, caught them, have them, bound and bloodied in a dark cave or dungeon, they can’t tell. Chains rattle against stone where bodies shift for comfort, but no comfort can be found for bleeding wounds, broken bones, bruised skin. Eyes connect, know they’re saying goodbye, can’t speak but wish they could say something, apologise, curse, plead, pray. By the time footsteps stomp their way in, handgun cocked and aimed at their foreheads, they have already accepted that⎯⎯

Gasps echo in the silence as seven bodies jerk awake, trembling and sweating and aching with pains that another is experiencing. Their minds are still clouded, submerged within their dreams, but they know this routine. They know what they have just seen.

Hands scramble beneath their makeshift bedding as they reach for their journals, their pens, and begin to scribble whatever details they can remember ⎯ eyes, blood, pain, death. They’ve all clung to different images, and they desperately remember everything they can before it washes away with their wakeful clarity.

“I saw, um, eyes,” chokes the youngest, his pencil already sketching the eyelashes with careful precision. “Brown, dark. Looked like a girl’s.”

“She had to be military,” says another. “Maybe special forces? No insignia on the uniform and dog-tags were taken off. Black-ops?”

“I saw a glimpse of a scar on her hand. Might help to identify her.”

“There were others, too; a team. I have a feeling she was the leader.”

“It was a rescue operation, but I don’t think they succeeded. The enemies saw them coming. She was confused as to how.”

“Did you see the gun she was shot with? That’s military grade. It was either supplied by somebody on the force, or they were the force.”

“God, I have a headache.” Seokjin rubs his temples, a pain lingering behind his eyes but never ceding. “Never thought after three-hundred years that we’d get another one.”

Arms curl around him, a sigh breathed into his neck. “Me too, hyung.” Jeongguk nuzzles closer, finds comfort in the warmth of his lover’s broad shoulders. “I feel sorry for her. Now she’s going to have to deal with this too.”

“Hey, what did I say about pessimism?” Namjoon’s pointed look is directed towards the youngest, but the words are for everybody to hear. A reminder. “Our lives may be long, and hard, and difficult to deal with at times. But we have the opportunity to help people, to affect change, and, most importantly,” his eyes soften, “to have each other.”

“Wah, hyung’s going soft on us,” Taehyung grins, leaning his head on Namjoon’s shoulder.

Behind him, Jimin clings around his torso like a koala. “Yeah, those are big words for somebody who so often tells us how insufferable we are,” he agrees.

Sitting up, Yoongi joins the conversation with a voice still deep with sleep. “That’s because you are insufferable. But that doesn’t mean that hyungs love you any less. Eternal life would be extremely dull if we didn’t have you annoying us constantly.”

Taehyung and Jimin smile at each other, eyes glittering with something devious, and something close to love. “You all just bore witness to that,” Jimin says, pointing at Yoongi. “You all heard him say that, so you can’t yell at us for being annoying ever again!”

“Free pass!” Taehyung agrees.

Hoseok, still lounging his head in Yoongi’s lap, rolls his eyes. “Yoongi-hyung said it, but none of us did, so we can, and will, still yell at you.”

The two pout, but question it no further. They could spend centuries arguing over petty things⎯have, regrettably⎯but they’d much rather get along. For now, forever.

“Hyungs,” a small voice whispers into the silent air, drawing attention to where the maknae still hugs into Seokjin’s back. He’s pouting, and they want to coo at him, but his next words break them out of their reverie of adoration. “What about the girl?”

Your ears are ringing when you finally wake, images of your nightmares still clinging to your mind, so vivid, so real. They were filled with pain, and fear, and the bloodied faces of your soldiers as they were shot one after the other. You remember screaming for them, pleading, hoping against hope that they’d listen. But, instead, you had watched them die.

You hope that you didn’t scream aloud, didn’t wake your team. They deserve the rest, even if you couldn’t have it.

Muscles stiff and aching from a restless slumber, you shift in your cot, move to adjust the blanket. But your cot is harder than you’d like, your blanket out of reach. In fact, you can’t move your arms at all.

When your heavy eyelids finally open, you realise why your dreams had felt so real.

The stench of blood and death is so thick in the air that you can taste it, that bitter tang against your tongue bringing bile up to the back of your throat. Your body isn’t just sore, it’s screaming; it’s as though you can feel your muscles re-knitting together after being torn apart. And maybe it’s panic that crushes against your lungs, constricting your airways, or maybe it’s grief.

Because as soon as your eyes land on the dead bodies of your teammates, you can’t breathe.

Your throat is so sore from screaming and crying that the sounds escaping it are torn and scratchy, but you can’t hold them in. Not when you see your friend’s brain splattered over the wall behind her; not when you see your second-in-command holding her hands together, mid-prayer when the shot was fired.

You sob, and yell, and cry out until your throat is raw, and then when you have no voice left, you continue. You may not be dead yet⎯and for what reason, you don’t want to know⎯but you don’t think that you’ll ever truly live after this. How does one move on from their friends, their family, being slaughtered before their very eyes? How does one process the fact that they were left behind?

Through the crushing weight on your chest and the searing pain in your throat, you hear footsteps approaching. The heavy boots do nothing to hide their owner’s steps, impatient and strong, but you can’t find it within yourself to be afraid. The worst thing they can do is torture you some more, maybe even kill you, but you’d welcome death at this stage; you’d welcome reprieve from the sorrow that threatens to swallow you whole.

It’s a man, unsurprisingly, who walks through the mouth of the dark cave, ugly face covered by a mask pulled up to his eyes. He looks at you, something in his half-hidden expression that you don’t have the energy to place, and then says something in a language that you cannot understand.

Heaving a breath and swallowing blood, you meet his sharp eyes. “I don’t understand you.” Your words scratch their way out, hardly discernible, so you try again. “I won’t tell you anything, so just kill me and get it over with.”

This time he shouts, still angry but this time not at you, though he never tears his gaze off your crumpled figure. Like if he blinks, you may disappear.

Once again, hurried and heavy footsteps make their way into the room, a pair of men joining their comrade. These ones are holding guns. You can’t find it within yourself to flinch.

More foreign words are thrown at you, some that seem like questions, but your mind is too rattled, head too sore, to even try to comprehend what they might want from you. Your shoulders ache from where your arms are secured behind you, and your legs ache from hours⎯maybe days?⎯of disuse. So you sigh, level what you hope is a glare towards the two newcomers, and repeat, “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

Looks exchanged between them, hesitation, and then, “You should be dead. Why are you not dead?”

In a moment of weighted silence, you try to determine if they’re serious. Because surely they aren’t asking you how you are alive while being held captive by them. But they don’t elaborate, so you’re left with an even greater migraine than before. “Are you fucking serious?”

The expletive makes them simultaneously point their rifles at you, and this time, you do stiffen. You may be feeling slightly suicidal right now, but you also have reflexes.

“I don’t know why I’m alive.” The admission is spat from between your teeth, reluctant and bitter. “Why don’t you ask whoever it was that killed the rest of my team?”

“I killed your team,” one of them says. The first one. Without a gun, obviously having thought there would be no threat in entering this dungeon. “I killed you, too, shot you in the head myself. So tell me again. Why are you alive?”

“Maybe you’re a bad shot,” you reply. “How am I to fucking know why you let me live? Now do me a favour, will you? Either let me go or shoot me for real this time.”

You don’t have time to register the sound of the gunshot before the bullet goes through your forehead.

“Anything?”

A sigh is the only response that Namjoon receives.

“Alright,” he continues, “what do we know for sure about her?”

“Honestly, hyung?” Jimin looks up from the laptop he’s perched at. “I don’t think we even truly know if it’s a woman. We saw her⎯their⎯eyes, but not much else. Like, sure, we think it’s a woman, we’re pretty sure of it, but nothing’s certain. The visions were really vague this time around.”

“He’s right,” Yoongi agrees, never looking up from the screen of his own computer. “I’ve been searching the military databases, but it’s hard to pinpoint covert operations that don’t technically exist. We didn’t get a dog tag number, or an insignia, or even an idea of which country’s military she’s in. I hate to say it, but we might just need to wait until tonight. Get some more pieces of the puzzle.”

This is what Namjoon was afraid of, not that he was expecting anything else. His boys are good, but even they can’t work miracles.

“I feel sorry for her,” Jeongguk hums, cheek pressed into the couch cushion where he’s taken a rest from research. Not that he ever really started; that was always his hyungs’ strong points. “I mean, she’s all alone right now, probably really confused, really scared. I know I was before you all found me.”

That sentence strains their hearts, makes them pause. Jeongguk had been alone for nearly a decade before they had finally found him, lonely and of unsound mind, unaware of the curse he’d been unwillingly given. They’d spent years helping him heal, helping him accept, and now they can proudly say that he is stable and content. Happy, even, sometimes.

You, however. You are in the exact same place that he was. Maybe worse, they don’t know.

Taking slow steps towards the couch, Hoseok gently lifts Jeongguk’s legs to place them on his lap when he sits. He feels the strong calf muscles beneath his fingers as he strokes the uncovered skin, bare only for their eyes, until the young one has relaxed his worried muscles.

“I know it’s hard, Jeongguk-ie,” Hoseok says, voice just above a whisper, soft and yet sure. “I know that we all want to find her as soon as possible, but we can’t just yet. Hopefully the next dream will give us more, but until then, we just have to stay focused. Let’s not get lost in that mental spiral, okay?”

Jeongguk hums, not fully sated with the answer but understanding nonetheless. “M’kay, hyung.”

The comfortable silence in the room following their conversation doesn’t even stretch five minutes before a figure slams into the building, flourishing his arms and announcing his arrival enthusiastically.

“We’re back, bitches!”

Seokjin follows behind Taehyung, closing the church doors after the younger had slammed them open and looking exhausted. “Taehyung chatted with the cashier for half an hour before he even asked for help. We could have been back hours ago.”

“Hey.” Taehyung directs a look at the oldest. “Her outfit coordination was unlike anything I’ve seen this century. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she’s as old as Hoseok-ie hyung!”

“Is that a compliment or an insult?” Hoseok asks Seokjin, who is smiling despite himself.

“Definitely a compliment. I’ll admit, she reminded me of that one fashion mogul we knew in Paris. The one...Jimin, you know the one I’m talking about. Red hair, lazy eye?”

“It wasn’t a lazy eye, hyung,” Jimin corrects, “she was just keeping an eye out in all directions.”

“Yeah, anyway,” Seokjin says, “none of that matters. We got the stuff. Took a while, but we got it.”

Taehyung empties his plastic shopping bag onto a wiped-down old table, cardboard boxes falling onto the surface. “I’ve got to say, modern medicine is pretty ground-breaking. I wish we were smart enough to have invented it earlier.”

“Do you think it’ll work?” Yoongi asks, sounding a lot less interested than he actually is. “I wouldn’t think that sleeping pills would affect us.”

At this, Namjoon bites his lip. “Usually, I’d agree with you, but I’ve been doing some thinking. If the pills aren’t hurting us, our bodies shouldn’t heal too quickly; they should still have time to take effect. Just like how we can get drunk but not have liver issues, or smoke but not get cancer.”

“But smoking’s still gross,” Jeongguk mumbles.

“So,” Hoseok ponders aloud, “if we take the pills, it should prolong our sleep so that we can lengthen the dream? Do you think it’ll work?”

“We’ve never been able to test it,” Namjoon shrugs. “The worst thing that could happen is our body processes it quicker than it works, and we have a normal night’s sleep with normal visions. It’s worth a shot.”

“I think a few of us should not take the pills,” Seokjin says. “That way, if the pills really do work, some of us can still wake up normally in case of an emergency.”

Namjoon nods his head in agreement. “Okay. We’ll rock-paper-scissors it tonight. Until then, let’s rest.”

The second time you wake up, you are significantly less disorientated. You know where you are, what has happened and, most importantly, that you should definitely be dead.

You’d seen the gun, heard the click, felt the bullet spilt through your skull. You know what a killing shot is, have dealt a few yourself, so you know that you should not be opening your eyes to an intense headache right now.

An acrid odour drifts through your dazed thoughts, a stench so strong, so unpleasant, that bile immediately rises and spills from your mouth. You don’t have much to vomit, so you spit mostly water and stomach acid onto the ground beneath you as you wretch from your aching throat.

No, not the ground. Something far worse.

When the tears from your eyes clear away and you look to the ground, you see what is digging into your skin, jabbing at your muscles; you aren’t sure why, or how, but you are lain across a pile of bones and scraps of cloth, sizzling flesh still warm to the touch and sticking to you in chunks. You are atop a pile of burnt bodies, unharmed and soaked to the bone with the reeking smell of charred flesh.

Your stomach is empty, and so you can only scramble from the pile and retch.

For several minutes, all you can do is allow your body’s attempt to empty itself on the ground. Even more so than before, your mind is overwhelmed with thoughts and questions and worries, most of which lead to the fact that you are lying naked in the middle of a desert, next to a pile of burnt bodies, unharmed and somehow alive.

You are at least thankful that you are already lying on the ground when you faint.

There are seven pairs of eyes⎯brown, warm⎯that look at you, look at each other. Words remain unspoken, for the pupils reveal every thought, every emotion. I care for you deeply, they say, now and forever. The words are not meant for you, not yet, but they feel familiar. As if you have heard them in every past life⎯

⎯Surrounded by trees, a sight which would usually calm you but now only acts as a hindrance, you run through the familiar forest without grace. Bare feet bleed trails of red through the undergrowth, sore arms never dropping the heavy weapons that slow you down so. You should not be alone, never usually are, but now you are accompanied only by your panic and the wolves that chase you. These ones, however, do not howl or gnash their feral jaws; they calculate, the way only a human can⎯

⎯Metal hangs heavy around your lithe neck, skin raw and bleeding beneath its unrelenting grip. Fingers grab into your filthy hair, knotting into your bun. Worthless piece of filth, growls a man. You are not unfamiliar with his tone, nor his insults, though this is the first time you have felt a glob of saliva being spat onto your cheek. Can’t even follow the basic rules. Somebody really ought to make an example of you⎯

⎯This room is bright, brighter than the last, and yet somehow glooms darker than all. Shadows hang heavy in the corner where invasive eyes hide, but you can look only to the man who sits in front of you, posture relaxed despite the tensity that thickens the air. Go on, he taunts as you are shoved to your knees, the pain nothing compared to the fear that fills you at the sight of the executioner’s sword. Show us that smile of yours. Grant the world one more. Grant him, he nods towards another figure who you refuse to meet gazes with, one last dazzling grin. You do not, but you do whisper an apology under your breath, one that will never be heard⎯

⎯Gold silk hangs from your broad shoulders, the fabric draping gracefully down your tall body. Each detail stitched into the delicate robe sparkles in the candlelight, patterns that tell stories of love and power and beauty. Jeonha, somebody says to you, a face that is hidden from your view. I am sorry for this, Jeonha. Gold silk soon turns crimson when the knife plunges into your back. You are not even allowed the courtesy of looking into your killer’s eyes⎯

⎯You had always thought that you would live longer, survive the odds set against you, but you know now, as your mother tends to the gash carved into your chest, that this time, luck is not your benefactor. It is not so bad, she assures, though you know the look in her eyes, see the light in them dimmed with grief of a life not yet lost. You wish to tell her everything, anything, but the words bubble up in your throat and you struggle to spit them out. She knows, though, you can see that she knows, and her calming hand rests over your heart, which beats slower and slower with each moment. I love you, my sun, my son. Rest well. Her hand grows cold, or maybe that is you. For you no longer feel, no longer worry, only close your eyes and fall⎯

⎯Urgency pumps your blood faster, the sound echoing in your ears, as your weeping eyes search around you. Nothing, not the chaos around you nor the wound in your shoulder, can stop your wobbly legs from moving, not when you have to find him. There you are, comes his voice from behind you, and you turn so quickly that you become dizzy. But he is there, wounded yet alive, and he is offering you a smile that you struggle to return. You fall into his arms, he into yours, hold each other with all the strength that you have. And when an arrow pierces through your heart, spearing through his chest, you are connected even when you fall, lifeless⎯

This time, you wake with a gasp and a speeding heart, images so vivid still lingering in your mind. Your chest is still sore where your heart lies, the organ heavy with another’s grief, and you are surprised to find yourself covered in your own tears.

Still in the dirt, still nude, still alive, and still confused, you know that the only way to survive is to keep moving. Memories of dreams that had felt so real may plague your mind for a while, but you cannot dwell. You have had nightmares before, strange and also plausible ones, and you know. You know that to submit to the darkness of your own mind is a death sentence in itself. So you stand up, dust off your bare skin, and begin walking in an unknown direction.

You only cast one glance back at the bodies behind you. Your team, in all probability. Your friends. You are leaving them in the middle of nowhere.

This, too, you do not allow yourself to dwell on. Not now. Not yet.

Though the night has long since begun, darkness creeping into every corner of the room, one figure lies awake, thinking. Listening.

He is selfish, he supposes, for choosing not to sleep in a time when it can be so important. He should be allowing the visions to greet him, remembering the details, soaking it all in. Instead, he blinks away his exhaustion in exchange for wandering thoughts. He is not ready to allow another’s memories into his mind; for his to enter their’s. He has unwillingly revealed his sins to far too many already.

Hoseok is afraid. And he is tired.

Around him, his six loves breathe deeply, bodies relaxed in slumber and minds lost to the visions of their eighth soul. Some stir, occasionally, and he is sure he’s heard one of the maknaes whimper, but all is otherwise silent.

He would die a million painful deaths just to ensure that they could maintain this peace forever. He supposes he has, already. But he doesn’t regret it. Not for them.

Though the silence is calming, it also beckons his eyes closed and his mind into darkness. So, in an attempt to battle the tantalising call of sleep, he rolls over, stands up, and quietly sneaks out of the crumbling building they’ve taken shelter in.

The air outside nips at his skin, prickling goosebumps down his back and arms, but it is always chilly at this time of year, in this part of Europe. He forgets which country they’re in. Possibly close to France, but likely somewhere in Italy. He can smell salt in the air, the ocean not far away.

Yes. Italy.

Through thick undergrowth and overgrown weeds he wanders, mind idle and busy all at once. His feet take him around the perimeter of the area⎯a consequence, he supposes, of living a paranoid life⎯but his thoughts are elsewhere. On a girl he has yet to meet. On you.

How will you react, he wonders, to this life? To them? Through the brief flashes he has seen of you, you are a woman who seems steadfast, capable, and determined. But he’d also seen your team; felt the love you hold for them. Will you be able to part from the life that you can no longer lead? Will you eventually accept them as your new family?

There are too many questions, too many things to worry about. This is why he doesn’t hear the footsteps approaching him from behind until two arms wrap around his shoulders.

“You should be asleep.” The words are whispered beside his ear, warm breath fanning down his neck. He shivers, but doesn’t respond. “What’s wrong? Let me help.”

Hoseok sags into the strong embrace, allows the arms to tighten around his chest, and sighs. “I’m worried, Namjoon.” Namjoon hums, doesn’t say anything. “Is it selfish of me to not want to see her memories? To not want her in my head?”

A pair of plump lips kiss the tip of his ear. “Perhaps,” Namjoon says. When Hoseok stiffens, he pulls him closer. “But being selfish is not necessarily a bad thing. You are allowed to prioritise yourself every once in a while.” Namjoon can sense that Hoseok is not yet appeased, so he adds, “There are six of us here to take the visions when you can’t. And if you do decide to rest, there will be six of us here to hold you through it. Being selfish does not mean that you are alone.”

“I’m so tired,” Hoseok whispers, and they both know that he is not referring to his lack of sleep. “We’ve all got such baggage, so much hurt, and I wonder if adding the weight of an eighth will be too much.”

“Hey.” Namjoon gently turns Hoseok in his arms, holding him close still. They look into each other’s eyes, see everything that they have grown familiar with. That they have grown to love. “We will also have another person to help share the load. For now and forever, we are in this together. It’s okay to have doubts, or worries, but never forget that you are ours and we are yours.”

Foreheads touch and eyes close, the silence of the night engulfing them as they share each other’s heat. And here, they are okay. They still have fears, still have troubling thoughts, but they are not so bad when they are together.

“C’mon,” Namjoon mumbles. “Let’s go back inside. Whether you decide to sleep or not, we should stay with the others. You know how they can get about cuddle piles.”

This does make Hoseok breathe a laugh. “Okay. And hey, Namjoon.” He presses their lips together in a brief, soft kiss. “Thank you, my love.”

“My eternal,” Namjoon replies.

That night, they both allow sleep to take them. They join the others in dreams of bloodshed, heartache, and death. And they hold each other a little closer. And they are okay.

< prev ⎯ next >

633 notes · View notes

jaminjims · 4 years

Text

foreign bts 8th member {imagine}

anon request: Hi! I love your imagines!! Can I request a relationships with the members or life of a 16 year old foreign 8th member with ot7? headcanon or imagine (whichever you feel like) thank you!!!

a/n: thank you so so much for requesting bub! i loved writing this one (even though it is a little rushed) it made me think differently about some aspects of idol life, especially when looking at it from a foreigners point of view. but i really appreciate you anon, you will forever by remembered as my first requester so i really hope you enjoy this one love! ♡

pairing: platonic bts x foreign gender neutral!reader (i do have you refer to the older members as hyung though)

genre: not gonna lie, this one is pretty angsty because it deals with my experiences of how the kpop community reacts to foreign idols/young idols (that being said, not everything will be completely accurate!) but don’t worry! there are still some fluffy moments (the members just love you so much and want to protect you from the world)

warnings: bullying, loneliness, unhealthy coping mechanisms and destructive mentality

words: 2.6k

[disclaimer: when writing idol aus, i will only be focusing on the struggles of the reader, not of the idols themselves because i don’t personally know what struggles they go through and how they handle them.]

~**~

you were the youngest, and that really sucked sometimes

like for the fact that the members practically hovered over you and made sure that you were doing your school work correctly and actually completing it rather than putting it in the garbage disposal (which might've happened before) but hey! all the other members were pretty much finished with their schooling so it wasn’t fair the you still had to do yours

you have made that point multiple times only for the others to shut it down because you could basically make pockets with how full of holes that logic had

or when they fussed over you a little to much, “y/n, you’re not too stressed right?” “you’re sleeping enough right, maknae?” “here eat this, it’ll help you grow.”

you also found it hard in the beginning to really connect with anyone too. the drastic age difference between you and the others was intimidating and it didn’t help that you joined the group three years after they first debuted so everyone was pretty much like family and there you were, kinda just stuck in group that you felt like an outsider in

not to mention that you painfully stood out from them because for god sake’s you weren’t even korean

they didn’t know how to approach you either though. you were (still are) young and stubborn and had almost too much energy that you didn’t know what to do with

and even putting the group problems aside, school was also very difficult for you

your parents abruptly moved you to korea when you were young because of an amazing job opportunity so you were thrust into a schooling society that wasn’t the best

hell, you didn't even know korean the first two years you spent there

you were just... different in so many ways and that’s hard on a growing child. some of your first memories were of children laughing and pushing you because you ‘looked weird’ and ‘couldn't speak.’

and you pretty much had to deal with that kind of treatment all throughout middle school and even a little bit of high school (even after you had learned korean)

it was difficult for you to really be accepted by a society that would always see you as an outsider

so you grew up a rebellious angsty teen who was hard to really connect to because you were just so used to deflecting others opinions of yourself

and you just so happened to have a passion for dancing and singing (you were also pretty good at rapping) and that was enough to have bighit take a chance on this kid who was barely passing school

despite what everyone said about training and all the complaints about it, you actually loved it

you thrived in the type of environment where you had to constantly push yourself to be seen because you had always been pushed aside for how you looked and how you talked

sure, you missed your parents a whole lot and being a preteen only magnified that feeling, but in this dance studio, in this recording studio, is where you could really stand out in the best way possible and make an impact

you would show all the people that it was ok to be different, that you could still make it in a society that prioritized their beauty standards and had a set precedent for how you had to look

you were going to be the one to break stereotypes and actually do something

but it was because you were pushed so hard growing up, that you set ridiculously high standards for yourself and because of your mentality, if you didn’t reach those goals then you would practically hate and loathe yourself until you pushed yourself to do better

you grew to have this close looped mentality that was ridiculously unhealthy, but as long as you could prove yourself and succeed, right?

it was that mentality that placed you on bts and when you got the announcement that holy shit, you were going to be the eighth member? you had cried for the first time since you started training

and even though it was a group that was already formed, you went in the confidence in yourself that you would make your group members proud

but that brought the age difference back into play. it had always been the older kids that had picked on you, and you were defensive at first

it made you all the more motivated to seek their approval though, to make sure that they had no reason to see you as different from them, despite the way you looked and how old you were

and it was probably that fire in your eyes that drew them in

you were this little stubborn ball of energy that would concur anything in your path and still push yourself to do more

it was oddly through school work (the dreaded work) and your age that brought you guys closer

they could tell when you were struggling to get work done, and losing sleep over it. it would be the little things that gave it away, like you leaving your toothbrush out or you not putting up the clothes that were washed

and they each saw themselves in you; burning determination, ready to go up against anything. refusing to ask for help even though you needed it

so it started with namjoon

he would look in your school bag while on break in dance practice and write the answers to some of your school work on sticky notes and then put them back in your bag

you would find them later on and frown but accept the help anyways because you really were struggling

and then it would be jimin leaving you snacks in your room with encouraging notes and you would be lying if you said that didn’t help you through some tough times (you still have the notes today, but no one needed to know that)

and sometimes there were playlists that would just kind of show up on your phone that were made for relaxation and studying and something in you knew that it was yoongi’s doing

and overtime, through the tiny gestures, they broke down your walls and you let them see a side of you that no one really ever got to see because of the circumstances that you grew up in

but you were still stubborn, and refused to accept their help if they asked for it directly. which actually led to more fights than you would think

they would scold you for working yourself to hard and you would say “no, i need this exercise.” to which would lead to actual demands from them and refusals from you because its your goddamn mentality working at your confidence again

right after you were officially announced as the eighth member, that’s probably when your personality shifted the most

remember when i mentioned about how they fuss over you too much? this was the main reason why

your looks. it always had to boil down to your looks and it was different when it was only school bullies making the taunting, but when your face was up for debate by the media, is when you got really fired up

“bts adopts an outsider?” “it’s called k-pop for a reason, go back to your own country.” “is this seriously happening right now? i’m un-stanning.” “wth, y/n’s like, five. thats gross.”

it was these comments and articles that really got to you, but somewhere along the lines it wasn’t just you anymore, it was about your members and what they had already built for themselves

you had let yourself start caring for them because they treated you like an equal and now you were only hurting them

they noticed, when you started to spend more time at the gym and studio and they were informed that your grades dramatically dropped because you were so hyper focused on getting better that you were ignoring your own needs

it was jungkook that finally said something to you after about two weeks of almost radio silence because goddammit he had actually gotten used to your presence and you couldn’t just leave because he would miss you to much

they all would

they thought that you would lash out at them when they confronted you about it, but what you did surprised them and you cried for the first time ever in any of their presences

because these people, your hyung’s, where suffering from the backlash that you created and you could see how it was affecting them and it seemed like all the trust and all the hard time spent trying to seek their approval was all flushed away now and you had worn yourself down so much that there was just a kid left who was scared

so, so scared

scared because you were different, scared because you had lost the people that you had grown to care for

so when jungkook came into the practice room to see you leaning against the mirror with your head in your hands, he knew that something had changed

and when he called out for you, you didn’t answer. this pattern repeated until he was left so worried that he started shaking you and he had to call the hyung’s

it was only when they opened the door and you made eye contact with hoseok that you started to tear up and then it was like the dam that was holding years worth of fear and hardships back just ... broke

you clung to jungkook and just start sobbing and apologizing because all you wanted was to be seen and accepted but not at this high of a cost

and they were relieved. they had thought that you would close yourself off from them and shut them out, but it seemed like you were worried about that same thing as well

jin and taehyung almost cried themselves and it took everything in hoseok to stop himself from draping you in a blanket and protecting you from the world because you were still so young and you didn’t deserve the hate you got. you were only sixteen and there was only so much one person could take

you were small enough to get picked up and since you hadn’t been eating much, jungkook picked you up easily

and you didn’t protest as he carried you out of the practice room and into the van that they usually shared

you were drained and tired and worn out and just overall exhausted because you never really showed any emotion except determination, if that could even count

and even though you were all close enough that you shared meals and acted like siblings, you still surprised them everyday and showed a new part of yourself and they just found themselves growing more fond of you

once you all piled into the van, jin driving with namjoon in the passenger seat, you looked up at jungkook, (you were still held against him, practically in his lap) and then looked back at the rest of them and what they heard almost made their heart stop, “i love you hyung’s”

there was SO MUCH to unpack in that one statement when it came to you

first of all, you had called them all hyung’s, which you hadn't done until now. always opting to add -ssi at the end of their names

and maybe it was strange to be proud of that tile, but when it came to you, it showed that you really did trust them with anything and they knew how hard that was for you

then you said ‘i love you.’ it still didn’t really process in their heads until they had gotten you to your bed (you had fallen asleep during the car ride back) and they were all sitting around in the living room

“you guys heard that too, right?” hoseok murmured

then slowly yoongi smiled that gummy smile of his and everyone’s face’s did the same because you really had become special to them, even if you did come in late to the group

and oh if that didn’t trigger their protective side

they saw it as their personal mission to out you back together and build yourself up again because you were worth it and you did deserve to be here

they started with getting rid of electronics, well at least for you

they were going to try to separate you from the media for as long as they could because people were ruthless

they also made a point to start posting more solo videos of you on their youtube channel, so the audience would actually be able to see past your ‘foreign’ face and look at your real personality (they even started posting things without the companies approval but would never tell you that because you were already rebellious enough)

and their planned kinda worked, too

and even if you still weren't accepted by many, more and more of the fandom was accepting you everyday and that meant something

at least one of them would be with you at all times (which actually kinda got on your nerves sometimes but you knew they were trying to help and you wanted to change, to grow, to make it easier on them)

taehyung started giving you more and more of his clothes (which you loved sleeping in) and started to use you as his cuddle buddy more times than not because you were the “precious maknae that should be protected at all costs.” “but do i really need to be your body pillow, hyung? at this rate i think your the one who will kill me and then i’ll need protection from you.” “yah, go to sleep.” he would flick your forehead and then you would mutter ow under your breath but go to sleep anyway because you were actually pretty comfortable

or when seokjin would call you into the kitchen just to try his food and you would groan at having to get up from where you were but in reality you actually looked forward to it because he really was so good at cooking

and so it becomes kind of like a routine for everyone and they all take care of you in their own way and your quick to try and help them back, even if comes of across as a little weird and distant

like when you would always bring extra water bottles to rehearsal because you know hobi will dance the hardest and you would get worried that he might become dehydrated

or every other night you would bring water to jimin with a honey cough drop because those are his favorite and it helps to sooth his throat after a long day of training

you also make an effort to contribute to the songs. so you start tagging along with namjoon and yoongi when they go off to their studios because you are also interested in producing and you would like to learn someday and they are all to eager to show you how

and you actually make an effort to ask for help when you need it (which is kinda big for you) and jungkook is the one who helps more than not

they didn’t give you time to build your walls back up again and even though you often slip back into the mindset that you consonantly need to work for approval, they are there to tell you that you don’t need to do that because you already make them proud and that you already do work enough

you are enough. they see you and believe in you

and really, that’s all you needed, but it was a relief when you started to be widely accepted by the fans

but you’re here, you were enough

and although its not always good all time, and at times when you don’t feel like you belong, your hyung’s remind you that they are your family, and that no matter your face or where you come from, you will always belong with them

[end]

end note: holy cow, this was just a mess of emotions and i think i might have some sort of trauma i don’t know about because sad who?? apparently i know her very well. but i’m really happy with the ending even though everything in between is messy! anon if you’re reading this, thank you so much for this kind of prompt! it really got me to think differently and put me in a position where i had to really delve deep into negative and positive mental patterns and how its impacted based on how a person grows up

also I REALLY LOOKED UP IF JIN HAD A LICENSE AT THREE AM IN THE MORNING JUST TO WRITE THREE WORDS ABOUT IT and i just?? find that really funny for some reason?? i don’t know man, i need to get more sleep, so i apologize for any errors. i love ya’ll

~**~ masterlist

request something!

taglist: @boba-tea1206

600 notes · View notes

dylanxmin · 4 years

Text

Arranged Beauty ∣ m.yg

this fic is part of the event that hosted by @ / House of Ddaeng network.

y/n thought she is way good with being alone and rejects her parents insist on getting marrying with someone they offered, but soon after, she realizes she is not way good with being alone. contrary, she needs that arrange marriage.

pairing; min yoongi x reader

genre; fluff, angst, arranged marriage!ua, first date!au,

warnings; swearings, mention of sexual association, y/n gets bratty for a second but she’s gonna regret that, soft soft yoongi but also brat, jealous yoongi, they both just stupid,,

rating; pg-15

word count; 8.2 k

a/n; i have no idea what i did. it started as a waaay shorter story, but end like this, asfhas,, hope you’ll love this fic as much as like to write it. im curious about what you’ll think about this, so yes, feedbacks are highly appreaciated!! thank you for reading, lots of love ♡

Twenty-six.

That was the age when your parents started to pressure you to have a decent life. According to them, one can call their life as a decent one, if they are married, but they were also okay with a short time engagement. And when you hit the age of twenty-six, they start to bother you, bombard you with their wills to be grandma and grandpa.

Your mother's daring character even leads herself to offer you some pictures of the men she knows somehow. Lawyers, doctors, and of course the future CEOs of the very important companies.

At the age of twenty-six, you thought they were going crazy or trying to make you go crazy. Of course, you vetoed every man she offered you, even though your mom can be very, very persistent, you handled the situation well. Avoiding them until they get sick of your stubborn attitudes, and they stop keeping their hopes high. Well, your little sister's marriage had helped you with the issue, but either because of this and that, they stopped forcing you.

Even though your parents find it highly pathetic, you finally enjoyed winning the constant fight that was going on for years with them. In your single-roomed apartment, all by yourself, and no one there to heat your cold feet in the coldest days of winter.

And at the age of thirty-two, you start to think a lot. Overworking, and overthinking yourself with the black space in your chest.

The freedom you loved so much led you to stay single, one night stands, and the dates you go to a couple of times aside. Most days, it didn't bother you that much. Being alone and being all alone forever. Seriously, it didn't bother that much. Until you find yourself in the loop where you watch only romantic comedies, paying a great deal of money for the napkins, as you find yourself crying until your throat goes sore.

That's how you found yourself dialing your sister's number, mumbling some bullshit over the phone. Throat sore, eyes puffy and red from all the crying, words falling from your lips, and Eunji finds it too hard to understand what you were talking about. She puts you on speaker, calls for her lovely husband he loves so much, and hoping Hoseok could understand what was going on with you.

''... not wantin' that. Don' want to die alone,'' freshly married couple only manage to pull these words from your mouth, and couldn't clarify the thing you babbled.

Does it sound completely pathetic? Well, if you have the authority, you can always blame the cherry martini. And if you have to be honest, despite you don't want to, it was more like lots of gin side with cherries.

According to what you say to them-- you, of course, couldn't remember what you said. And how much they told your parents, you at the age of thirty-two found yourself in a first meeting. With the man you'll be married.

Arranged marriages weren't your thing, but seeing your friends getting married one by one, having children, and happily married in front of you, basically forced you for doing this. Thirty-two years old so-called modern advertiser gets sick of the loneliness she had and agrees to an arranged marriage. And this is no other person than you.

When Eunji and Hoseok come to visit you and giving you the big news with a wide grin, you didn't think that they would find someone so quickly, but as the rumor says--rumor was no other than your sister--, the very charming neurosurgeon who is only thirty-five couldn't find himself a decent woman to marry. Not to your surprise, your parents get so hyped up with the news, and to your luck, the man--soon after you learn that his name was Yoongi. Min Yoongi-- happened to be the very best friends of Hoseok.

Without wasting any more time, your parents meet with each other on the phone, both women burning with the desire for a grandchild, even though they already have. And the fathers, talking formally with each other, and saying how being single after the thirties is dangerous for one's career. Deciding the time and place for both of you two meet, and even your parents decide what you should wear.

It all feels like you are the head actress in a movie, where your parents forced you to marry the rich man for your family's debt. In all reality, there was no debt or force. Maybe there is a little force, but in the end, you wanted them to find someone for you. When you keep thinking about it, guilt starts to creep towards your chest. Questions with unknown answers fill your mind.

What if the man turns out as a psychopath? What if he has some weird kinks that you can't handle? The more you think everything scares the shit out of you. You cover your face with your palms, you groan while your head falls on the table. How could you be this stupid to agree on what your parents always wanted? Arranged marriage? What time is this? The late seventies?

In the internet age, you really did agree on meeting with the man you probably were going to marry in a small coffee shop that your parents chose, wearing a blue dress that also your parents picked.

Is it too late to go back? What if you leave before he gets here? Probably he doesn't know how you look--as you had no idea about his face or body image. A huge knot sits on your throat, making it hard to swallow your regrets. Not that you were giving lots of crap about someone's look, but what if he is not your type? Is it okay to leave after ten minutes of talk? What if--

''Ih-hım,'' before another ball of questions jerk into your mind, a fruity voice cuts you, ''L/N Y/N?'' while you taking your hands from your face and lifting your head from the table, the comforting fresh odor fills your nostrils even before you see the man. ''Y--yes,''

Between in your slight nods, twinkling your eyelashes while staring at the man in front of you. Thick blonde haired-man eyeing you above, a light smile hangs on his face, square glasses stand under the button nose. Contrary to your dismay, he is looking good. His smile gets wide, hangs his hand in the air, ''I'm Min Yoongi. It's nice to meet you,''

It takes a couple of minutes before you realize that you should greet him the way he did. Even though you try hard not to act like an idiot, you are flummoxed by his sudden appearance. The voice of the chair tumbling to the floor echoes in the shop, causing all the heads to turn towards you when you clumsily get up. ''Oh, I'm so.. sorry,'' you jabbered after your head bumps to the man's when both of you try to fix the chair.

''I'm really sorry,'' you utter in agony and guilt. Probably you look like an idiot, rather than only feeling like it. He smiles and waves his hand like it's nothing after adjusting your chair. ''I'm not going to suffer from it, don't worry,'' he chuckles, eyes staring deeply. Even though he isn't much taller than you, his soft but scanning glares made you feel smaller. He put his hand in his pocket, flexing his shoulders while standing inches away from you. Before your mind works properly and offers him to sit, you keep watching his sight. Eyes wander, settles on the others without landing on you, glancing up to the ceiling.

''Oh my--Please take a seat,'' you plead, gesturing the chair across from the table. His brows raise with your high pitched voice, but the soft smile takes its place without wasting time. He nods, taking his seat in front of you. The reason why you act like this is both caused by how attractive he is, and how nervous you are. Either way, you feel dump while sitting across from him.

After you take your place, long silence arises between you two. So, you take the advance from this silence by scanning him. From head to toe.

He is wearing a dark blue sweater, a black coat on top of it, with black pants. The only colorful thing was his blonde hair, and it surprises how he looks so good with it. One glance and anyone could understand how important he is and the job he does. He is intimidating, contrary to his small smile on the corner of his lips. When your stare meets with him, you understand that he is scanning you the same way you do. Were you looking good? Does the dress look stupid in this weather? Despite his coat and sweater, you were wearing a blue thin dress with black spots. You wonder if the cut on the dress is too low or not. Not that you can do anything about it.

''So, you are a doctor?'' his eyebrows rise with your statement. It was stupid of you, but the bizarre silence only causes you to grow more anxious. Yoongi places his hands on the table, holding his laugh on the back of his throat. He feels how anxious you are, and he enjoys how your expression changes when you think you said something stupid. He finds it cute. He nods and smiles while your face goes pink. ''Neurosurgeon, yes.''

''Cool,'' blinking your lashes, you start to nod in small. You didn't know if he is interested in you or the opposite, so you didn't want to make, or say something weird and scare him away. So, when the waiter came and took your orders, you thanked him mentally. Because you were at the edge of asking how much money he makes, and looking like a total gold digger. Aish... why can't you act like a normal woman for a minute?

''And you?'' the husky voice of the semi-stranger made your heart flinch and gathered all of your attention to himself. You tilt your head and he sees your glazed face. ''What you do for a living?'' he asks one more time. Rather than finding you oddly idiot, he likes the way your cheeks go pink. ''Ah. Work. You mean... my job,'' he nods, the smile bigger now. ''I-I'm working for an advertisement company... yes,'' normally you would find your job highly amusing and cool, but with him, you feel small. Like the job you have was nothing, as he touches brains every day. Oh... you feel like an idiot. A real idiot.

''Oh. That's cool,'' he smiles, nodding his head the same way you did. And he enjoys the way your cheeks blushes after his little tease.

And you couldn't understand why he was acting so... kind. Contrary to all the things you did, which they were very stupid, he didn't mind them. Rather, he looked like he enjoyed them, and this literally made you feel uneasy. It was strange. Yes... strange.

''Really?'' you tilt your brow, ''You think that's cool? Or, are you trying to insult me?'' his eyes went round, blinking them a couple of times.

''Did I sound like that?'' he lifts his hands up, fixing his posture to emphasize and look sincere to you. ''I didn't mean to sound like that. I'm sorry and of course, I am not trying to insult you nor the job you do.'' you nod, expecting his apology. It was your time to enjoy the way he looks dumbfounded.

''Iced americano,'' when the waiter comes with your orders, you hear him release a long breath under his breath. The way he takes a sip from his cup, and not knowing where to look kinda warms your heart, and you feel bad for mocking him, but still, you were having fun with this.

After a couple of minutes of silence, you decide it wasn't fun to mock with him. Instead, it killed the mood and now Yoongi wasn't talking, probably too scared to talk with a psycho like you as you just accused him something he didn't do like some hebete. And the way you found it funny, left its place to regret while you were playing with your mug, chewing inside of your mouth in guilt.

''H-how did you met with... Hoseok?'' yes, you know it is a lame question to ask but the stupid awkwardness was eating you alive, and you want it come to an end.

''College,'' he pressed his lips together, eyes carefully sizes you up as he doesn't want to say something to offend you. And you were sure that was going to be the last thing he said, and probably leave after drinking his coffee in rush. But he surprises you with the sudden giggle. ''In the first year of college, we decided to go to a Carnival and I still don't know why we decided to do it. But in the roller coaster, suddenly someone held my hand and never left it until it stopped--''

''Oh my... don't tell me it was Hoseok!'' you jerk your hand to your lips, very amused by the new information he gives.

''Jackpot.'' he doesn't even try to hold his smile back, nodding his head cutely. ''I had to take care of him for the rest of the night. Because he was so frightened and needed someone.'' both of you start to laugh with the memory of him. Even though you would never think Hoseok would do that, somehow you could imagine him doing that. Somehow that suits him well.

''Yoongi, you gave me the best card ever against him.'' you chuckled, wiping the tears from your eyelids. ''He will feel remorse over setting this meeting,'' your stomach starts to ache a little from the laugh you share with him. And you were glad that he didn't let go of this date and made you laugh like this.

Yoongi waved his hand while leaning to take a sip from his cup, ''He will probably kill me for telling you this.'' the corners of his mouth turned up before he talked again. ''You should protect me from him as I share this with you.'' you exchange looks with him. The playfulness of him surprised you and how he changed the mood so smoothly.

You nod with a smile on the corner of your lips, staring at his eyes. ''Of course. I will.''

After exchanging the memory of your mutual friend, the bleak mood left its place to a warmer one. There were a couple of good jokes, more questions to get to know each other better, and you almost forgot that this was the arranged date and you had so much fun rather than you assume. With the timid glances, leaning each other to hear better, and the way you two get closer in time felt like a real date. Not a date your parents arranged.

Now you know about his love for music, and one could never doubt his passion for it. The way he talks about it causes your heart to hum, seeing how his eyes go all shiny while showing you his carefully made it playlist warmed your chest, you can't lie. Seeing someone getting this enthusiastic about the thing he loves brought the memories of how you liked to paint at one time. Getting all dirty while trying to achieve your goals, nose went numb because of the smell. You loved it.

Somehow, the blonde man finds his way to your heart, and you had no objections to this.

''Okay, tell me yes,'' you tear yourself off from the memories, and adjust your focus on him. Hands up in the air, eyes gleaming in anticipation.

''I will,'' you said in a curious tone, seeing the corners of his mouth turning up, ''If, I know the reason,''

You giggle the way his eyes going round, he looks like you betrayed him. A thing about him always finds its way to make you feel relaxed around him, and it was like you knew him for more than three hours. ''After all the things we share, all the laughter and all these minutes. I thought you would say 'yes', but I guess I'm a fool,''

''Uh, if you are going to be this dramatic, then yes. For what is in your mind,'' you can't ignore the gasp that escaped his mouth, hand wraps his heart, shushing to fix the broken pieces of it. ''We were thinking about treating her with the best chicken wings in the country, but she decides to act rude. Every cloud has a silver lining, huh?'' he pouts, faking an attitude.

''Oh. Pardon me and my bad mouth.'' you decide to continue the game he started. ''From now on, I won't have a second doubt about saying 'yes'. Promise.'' his mouth curved into a smile after you lifted your pinky finger in the air, and without wasting time, he wraps his around yours.

''And tell me more about those chickens,'' you say, stealing a laugh from his chest.

''Oh my--god.'' your hiccup interrupts you while laying yourself on the back of the booth. You lick the sweet chilly from your finger, having a food baby in your stomach never felt this good. It was the best chicken you ever eat, and you almost started to cry after tasting it the first time. The sweet chili sauce and the crispy cover on the chicken wings just blew your mind and took your mouth with it. If you could, you would eat a dozen of them.

''Right!'' Yoongi voices with pleasure, takes another bite to fill his mouth, ''This brings heaven to your mouth. No less.'' your laugh cuts in the middle as a cramp finds its way to your stomach. You really ate too much.

''You were right, but I guess I'm going to faint.'' opening the little packet, you start to clean your fingers with the wet wipe, the sharp smell immediately fills your nostrils. You did enjoy every bite, it wasn't a lie. But you could feel the heaviness on your stomach from all the eating and the drinking. You were over thirty and there was no point worrying about eating too much or drinking beer on the first date.

To be honest, you would worry about this if the date was not with him. But with him, with Yoongi you don't feel the need for acting differently. You like the way you can do whatever you want to do.

''What about another round?'' his eyes gleamed with a mischievous hint. It was triggering the ache in your stomach, and as every sensible human being, you should say no. But the sweet taste lingers on your teeth, numbs your tongue with its savor.

''You are inviting me to sin.'' you wipe the corner of your mouth while trying to lean towards him, but the body feels like a ton. Despite the ache and the handicap on your way to breath, you reveal a big grin. How could you say no while he looks at you with those bright browns? You couldn't. ''And I'm happy to participate in this. Course you need to pay for my hospital expenses,''

He lets out a choked, husky laugh. Holding his stomach while serving you the best gummy smile, and looks deep into your eyes after adjusting his posture. ''Believe me,'' the way he licks his bottom lips just does something to you. Levitates your stomach, sticks your breath on your throat. If someone would ask you, you would gladly accept to watch him sit in front of you. That's something you are sure about. ''You won't regret eating too much of this. No one can.''

He holds his hand up after tearing his eyes from you, calling the waitress for the second round. A grin stuck on his lips, you stupidly believe him. You would believe if he said he is the president of the world, and that was stupid. But you didn't mind, as your heart never filled with this much joy for so long.

With a wiggle in your stomach, you feel heavy on the heart. Overwhelmed by his actions, the way he affects you. The way he has the cutest, heartwarming smile made you angry as he had no right to look like this. With the blonde hair, smart-looking glasses, and the round button nose that you just wanted to boop your finger.

It was enough to catch you on his spell but too much for your poor heart.

You know that you owe a big thanks to Hoseok for arranging this date-- you didn't know what this was, to be honest. Was it a date that he agreed just for fun and not calling you in the morning, or is he thinking this is more serious than a silly date? You didn't even know what or how to think about this. Yes, you agreed to an 'arranged marriage' thing with your parents, but were you going to marry the first man you date? Were you going to decide after one date?

Whether deciding it after the first date, or the first man, you only know one thing. And that is the amount of joy and happiness you feel heavy on your chest. Only watching him while he is eating chicken wings in extreme delight was enough to change the speed of your heartbeats, so you had only one thought. Letting him decide.

Your judgment wouldn't be clear or sensible, you know that as the heat on your chest won't stop growing minute by minute you spend with him.

Letting him decide if this is just a one-time thing he just agreed for his friend's sake, or he would consider marrying you. You didn't know if handing the ball in his hands was being selfish or the contrary, but you just want to enjoy the moment and not overthink it. Or about him.

No lie, you liked him. Maybe even too much for the first date, but screwing this up the last thing you want as you always do. Selfish or not, you choose not to make a decision.

''Can I open my eyes, now?''

Everybody would like a little excitement in their life, as well as you. But you never imagine that excitement would be like this, taking somewhere on your first date with a blindfold. It was much more likely a napkin from the place you ate the chicken wings than a blindfold, but it didn't change the result.

Yoongi decided to take you somewhere you could burn the calories you have been whining about. Probably you wouldn't come up with an idea about the place, but as you were almost walking for almost ten minutes, it should be close. Thinking and trying to guest the destination was useless, as you never came here before.

One second you were worrying about marriage, but now, all that worry turns into losing your lungs. If you could stop being dramatic, you trust Yoongi enough that he wouldn't do such a thing, but would you ever stop? That is trickier than taking away by a blindfold.

You hear Yoongi's sigh, very likely getting sick of your questions, as you never shut up asking questions. But how could you stop exactly? How could you expect him to hold you by the wrist, covering the napkin on your eyes after handling the check and saying he knows how to burn those calories. He is not resembling a creep, but who would do and say such a thing? It is suspicious.

''Okay. You would probably slap me after finding out where we are, and the unnecessary act of cutting your sight,'' he pauses to let a giggle, hands of him leave your waist and wrist, ''Either way, prepare to defeat Y/N,''

Before his fingertips find the hem of the napkin and free your eyes, you collect the latest clues about the place and the thing he said. A couple of boy's voices reach your ears, shooting and directing each other. The very last hints you could get before the lights dazzle your eyes.

''Ow,'' you whispered, covering your eyes to protect them from lights in a reflex.

Yoongi stands there, waiting beside you while you blink your lashes in the cutest way possible, watching your eyes go between him and the basketball court. The corner of his mouth quirked up, enjoying way too much with how you look at him with wide eyes in awe. ''So?'' he holds his arms in the air, makes a circle with his body, and stops after turning his face to yours once again with a proud smile on his lips.

''So?'' you repeat, tilting your brows. Seeing the three boys playing basketball on one of the hoops, the other one is empty, waiting for you two to play on there. There was another couple of people who were sitting on their portable chairs, drinking from their cups, and laughing. It was them and the boys who were too caught up with their game but even thinking to play in front of them made you nervous. It was duskily illuminated, but still, you had worries to play.

''What, too scared to play with me?'' pale blond lifts an eyebrow, seeing the timid look on your eyes, he leans over, brushing his shoulder to yours, ''You know you can't beat me, don't you?'' a sheepish smile stands on his face to tease you. Yoongi didn't know about you too much, yet he could understand pushing your legs would pay.

''Tch, please.'' just the way he thought, your ego beats your anxiety. ''I could crush you with my amazing triple shoots,'' you stick your tongue out, can't help but act like three years old while challenging him. The way you act, causes him to burst into a laugh. When he thinks you can't look cuter than before, you stand in front of him, sticking your tongue out. He must have done something so good to have you in return.

''Well well, then you should show me those 'amazing' shoots,'' while you tilt your brows for the second time today, he leaves you in surprise, turning his back at you and starts to walk away.

''We don't have a ball to play!'' you try to remind him, yelling at his back but he turns around, grin on his face. If he tries to look cool, you know he won't look his butt on the ground because walking backward isn't cool, or a sensible thing to do. ''You think?'' he shouts back, the mischievous glow could be seen from where you stand.

What does 'you think' mean? You don't have a ball to play if he didn't plan this before and take one with himself but to your knowledge, you are not blind. Because one can see the orange ball-- You could go on the debate in your mind if he wasn't talking with the boys you notice before, taking their ball after having a small talk with them.

Yoongi walks over you, bounces the ball, swirling it around his body. Basically showing off, trying to surprise you with the moves he made. You watch as the wind messes with his hair, how he grips the ball, and bounce it like a professional. He is good at what he does, and you could understand that with a glimpse of look, but also you can catch the way his eyes follow the ball, lips curled up with the delight he feels.

You cheer for him when he passes the ball between his legs, without paying it much effort. You didn't know he was this good, as he never mentioned his interest in it, but seeing it with your bare eyes rather than just mentioning is way better. Well, little did he know you haven't shared the same interest with him.

''Okay Jordan, pass me the ball,'' you wave your hand, directing him where to stand after he throws it. He giggles the name you call him, blessing your ears while waiting for you to make a shoot.

It's only been a day, yet you feel like knowing him more than one day, way too comfy around him while talking, eating, or acting. You don't know if this is one of your dreams, where it affects your subconscious because all of the romantic movies you had watched too much in depression. Or simply, this man who makes you do stupid things like eating dozens of chicken wings is just a wizard. And you are affected by one of his spells, can't make proper decisions, and probably he isn't this good looking. It is all because of the spell he did.

His eyes are not this bright, his cheeks are not that cute and tempting you to squeeze them. Or his lips are not that mesmerizing and you only want to taste them every time he smirks just because of the damn spell. You are old enough not to charm by a hair, yet all you want to do is bury your fingers in that velvety fuzz.

''Are you gonna show me those shoots or too scared to move?'' his mouth twisted, pale skin peeking under his sweater and the coat he is wearing, glowing shamelessly. You nod, plastering a smile on your lips, can't get enough of his teasing. Even though you want to see his face after the shoot you are going to, retarding is more enjoyable.

So when you throw the ball with a false effort, causing it to fall inches away from the hoop, you hear the squeaked laugh you never heard before. Apparently, it was too funny for him as he almost kneeled in front of you from laughing, holding his stomach while his shoulders shake. ''Well, we can say that wasn't the amazing one so far, huh?'' he teases while wiping his eyelids. You could offend by his actions if this isn't all an act, and in reality, he is the one who should laugh at.

''Trying again? Okay, I can teach you the right way after that,'' you want to throw the ball to his head, his cockiness amazed you as you bite your lip to hold your laugh behind. The popular neurosurgeon was nowhere to be found when you eyed him. And you like the way he leaves the maturity aside, having fun with you and the time you two spend. You could easily say after spending enough time that he wasn't acting, the laugh that leaves his throat is real, as well as the shine in his eyes. Part of you doesn't want to wreck his mood or turn off the cocky light in his eyes but on the other hand, you desperately want to see his face after you stop acting and shoot a real basket.

You bet the blonde prig won't be expecting you to take an oh so good shoot, and the cunning side of you wants to wipe that smile on his face. You want it so bad and can't help the way your body moves to the right corner, dividing your strength equally to your legs and arms before taking a shoot. With a light jump, you send the ball right into the basket, it takes two turns on the hoop before passing through it. It wasn't the best triple shoot, but you only played it in your free time with your family, yet you know that your body reveals that you played basketball very well. Much to his dismay, it was a perfect basket. You turn your head as you want to see his face, putting your hands on your waist and serving him a big grin. ''How about this one?'' the hint of your laughter can clearly be heard by him, not that you want to hide.

He stares.

And he stares for a long one minute, not talking nor giving you an idea with his expressions. After fixing your posture, your lips quirk in a pout, brows furrowed as you can't understand why he hasn't said anything or did. A knot sits on your stomach, you want to say something but your mouth goes dry with the uncertainty. While the deep silence takes over around you two, finally he shows a feeling on his face.

A line appeared between his brows, a beam flash past in his eyes, and he started to walk over to you.

Was he angry? Because you can throw a ball? Yes, you wanted some reaction, but anger wasn't the quite close expression you expect. With every step he takes, the hair on your body stands on end as you didn't know what to say. So you try to ease the nervousness you felt, ''Not so cocky after seeing this girl can play, huh?'' you mock, pointing yourself with your forefinger, wiggling your brows before he stands in front of you.

Way... way too close.

He stands so close that you could even see the little mole on the left side of his face, right beside his nose placed cutely on his cheek. The tiny whiteness on the same side of his lips, breaking the proportion but adding him another sweet flaw. You even pay attention to his facial line on the side of his nose, only to abstain from his eyes. Abstaining from capture by his lovely, velvety browns. And when he starts to speak, you can smell the chili sauces mixed with the beer he drank.

''Can you wear my coat?'' with a mouth that slowly opens, you stare at him without blinking. He tilts his brows slightly, it was tiny and almost non-visible, but you catch the twitch on his jaw.

''I'm sorry but, what?'' you baffled, obviously not expecting him asking that, and can not put it on logic. Under his bashful stare, you hear the sound when he takes a deep breath between his teeth. Cocking your head aside, you try to evaluate if you are cold or not, but you know that you haven't done anything for him to take as a hint that you are cold. Darting your eyes at him, your stomach flips over after realizing how good he looks under the slight street light that illuminated the court, the shadow of his eyelashes falling on his cheeks, mesmerizing with every blink. ''Y... you want me to wear your coat. And that's why? I'm not cold if this is what you think--''

''It's not. Not because you are cold,'' you watch him slipping his fingers on his hair, ruining the straight strands with a pout. Yoongi opens his mouth, but the weight of his words feels too much, he closes it again. He is thirty-five years old and should be mature enough to press this puberty feeling, and not want to cover you with his coat so no one can see the way your dress moves, expose the skin you covered with the same dress that betrayed you. And also, he knows he is not in the place to tell you what to do, or get jealous the way the others who size you up. But the first time after he gets mature enough, Yoongi can't find control over his emotions. ''I thought... thought that you could feel uncomfortable with the... dress,''

''Oh,'' you bite your bottom lip after getting caught off guard. Not that you are irritated or think it's possible, but is he just jealous, or is this just your mind playing games and causing you to think the impossible one?

''But you don't have to. I mean if you are okay with your dress. You just don't... don't have to wear this.'' bubbles of laughter fills your throat as he stands stunned with wide eyes, 'o' shaped mouth is enough to melt your heart and spread heat to your chest. You bite harder your lip to hold your laugh, bend your head staring your shoes. ''Is it too distracting for you to beat me, Yoongi?'' darting over your eyes at him, you open them wide, rolling his name on your tongue only to tease him more. Getting even closer to his face, you talk in a pout. ''Do you think it's can affect others just the way it does to you?''

An almost unhearable whimper leaves his lips, shaky breath hits your cheek. A shade of embarrassment crept towards his cheekbones, increasing his cuteness. He stares speechless, you could only catch the loud gulp from his throat and you know it is enough of teasing him.

''Okay, I'm admitting.'' taking a step back, you pat his shoulder. ''I'm a little cold, and it looks cozy.'' you lie while pinching his coat. His dull expression slowly fades, the corner of his lips tilt in the shape of a smile. Eye bags puffing up, face lines appear only to puss his soft cheeks on his cheekbones.

You are not going to admit this to him, but the way your heart flinches under your chest, the way his soft smile cuts your breath, and the way your fingers physically pains to touch his cheeks just unbearable to hold on. At first, you only thought that his lips were in a good shape, can be even called cute but right now, they were just tempting. It was almost aching how your feet itch to take a step closer, and closer until your breaths can mix with each other, and the so imagined taste meets with your lips.

''Here,'' he acts, taking his coat off of him swiftly to wrap it around you, and he does gently. Helping you to pass your arms in its sleeve, patting your shoulders after he links each button, as he looks way too pleased with the gummy smile that pinned to his face. ''Better now?'' he asks sincerely, wanting to make sure of your comfort, so you nod in appreciation.

The heat immediately rushes over to your body, you thought you were joking before but after feeling the relaxation on your muscles, you surprise how cold you were. Wearing a dress in this weather without any coat was a big mistake, you noted.

''So, if there is nothing you can object to, can we go on and play? Or, are you too scared?'' he scoffs at your playfulness, tilting a brow. Yoongi does not know how to react the way you wiggle your brows, the way you dare him with the buffoon smile. Luckily, he has another plan on his mind. ''So eager to taste the defeat, huh? All right then, I will give you a lesson.''

''Hah. Bring it on--''

''-But, before you get all moody, I want to do something.'' in return of his sparkling browns, your lips curl into a pout. Not expecting him to cut you off like this, even though he didn't do it without having any kindness. It only takes two seconds for you to realize what he was up to when his palms cover your cheek, timid touches of his fingertips on your skin. Is he going to kiss you in public? In your first time? Should you object? Between trying to ease the chaos on your mind, and understanding if you want this or not, hot breath already stands way too close to your lips. It was not a lie that you were thinking about kissing him a minute ago, but when this happened as a reality, you stand there like a deer in the headlights.

Before you can choke yourself with overthinking, his whisper cuts it. ''Can I?'' he raises his brows, asking for your permission one more time before going for it, making sure of your emotions and thoughts about himself. Eyes of him scan yours pleadingly, as he was trying to emphasize his intentions. You were so nonplussed by what he was up to that you couldn't even move a muscle, only blink hard enough to capture the moment, face turning scarlet with the heat just crept towards. Feeling your heartbeats on your cheeks, under his fingertips. Every loud hammer brought your heart over your mouth, mouth dried completely. But you manage to voice, almost inaudible.

''Please,''

When you met with his lips, it wasn't soft as you expected due to his dried lips, but soon after it changed. After you part your lips to capture his bottom lip between yours, a ball of warmness just explodes. Reaches till your fingertips from your chest, tiny mewl slides by you with the strong rhapsody you have inside.

It was palm pulling, lips trying to deepen the kiss kind of keenness you both felt for learning, acknowledging each other. Soon after one of his hands left your cheek to pull you closer as your fingers weren't enough to do so. The others were long forgotten, it was just you and him. Everywhere was clouded, protecting your intimacy from others.

You were only tasting, knowing, and capturing each other.

When the kiss broke out as both of you needed fresh air in your burning lungs, you were shocked by the way you carried away by your desire. You, probably Yoongi too, was feeling the same way, find this very immature, unwisely but the thing you feel, and wish that he was feeling the same way you do was beyond your imagination. The attraction was between you from the first time you started to bond today, but you could never think that would be this euphoric.

Between heavy breathing, and adjusting the moment you just shared cuts off by his hoarse voice. ''Was this highly good or is it just me?'' you snort at his silliness, slap him by the head before he can react.

''You'll get your answer if you can beat me,'' tearing yourself apart, you take the ball despite his whines. But as he sees you won't step back, he sends hair-raising glares at you.

Soon after, the contest loses its solemnity and turns into something where Yoongi chases you with the ball to throw at you. And you found yourself giggling, running away while screaming in tiny. With a glance at you two, and no one would believe you two for being over thirty but it felt so good to act without caring for anyone. You almost forget the feeling of happiness, cooing from joy, and having someone not minding your bullshits even on day one.

Of course, you accept how the kiss felt 'highly good', holding your palms up in surrender, before laying on the grass. Not that you lost the game, more likely from winning the better prize. The blond neurosurgeon, at age thirty-five was your prize. To be honest, he is the best thing that happened to you in ages without any exaggeration. For all you know is that maybe arranged marriages were not that bad.

Frankly, you wouldn't dare to lie and say you still object it while watching the man beside you. He gave you more than you expected. The comfort, happiness, and tickling bubbles on your chest. And you hope that would last long enough to the day you knew each other like an open book. As you wanted to know and more about him, every little detail, and every tiny mimic he makes.

And you will see that day if you are lucky enough.

''We are out of rice!'' you flinch with the loud voice, take a big sigh at the view you see in the mirror. Lipstick extends along to your right cheek from your lips, as the outcome of hearing the thick voice without any warnings. ''And the last toilet paper just finished!'' tsking audibly, you take the wet tissue to clean the mess you made. While wiping the ruins of the lipstick, you hear the whining voice once more, closer this time.

''We don't have any toothpaste, either. God, why don't we have anything? Aren't you supposed to take care of the grocery this time? It was your turn,'' the man is nothing but in black sweatpants and a white shirt appears, constant grumble on his mouth trying your patience. ''You have lipstick on your cheek,'' he points his face to address where the stain is as you lock your gaze on him by the mirror.

''You don't say,'' lifting the brows you watch him narrowing his eyes, scoffing at your answer. ''And I was thinking why I have wet tissue on my hand. Thank you, babe.'' he rolls his eyes, sighs while ruining his hair. Black hair flies in the air, every pinch falling another direction and it warms your heart. Your husband dyed his hair black from blonde after having a white hair crisis and deciding to dye it for good. Not that you didn't like the blonde hair on him, but black was something different. It gave destructive charisma to him that you adore so much.

It is the greatest thing since sliced bread.

''When you say they'll bring Hoseong and Aera again?'' after finishing the cleaning, you turn to your husband who asks nonchalantly but the light in his eyes says he is happy. ''They'll be here any time soon. Why?''

He shrugs a shoulder, acting as he is not interested. ''Just curios. I'll adjust my appointments so,'' you nod, giggling as you decide to reach him. Leaving your bean bag chair, you take a two-step to wrap your arms around his neck.

Brushing your nose to his, ''You love to hang out with them, don't you?'' you ask, mentioning your nephews. Even before he admits, you already knew that he adores them. Hoseong at nine and Aera at seven years old buck of happiness for Yoongi, and you can see it in his eyes. The way he plays with them, caring for them always puts a light serene in your heart, but you two never mentioned having a child. Soon after you are scared to open it as you are afraid that he doesn't want to have kids, but the love he had for your nephews always confused your mind and heart.

''Well, they are fun to hang out,'' he tears his eyes from you but you catch the attempt to hide the smile he had. Lips forcefully stay flat but gaze full of bubbles. But when you tilt your brows, staring at him with a pout, you break him. ''Okay, okay... I love those chubby kiddos. You know how smart they are, don't you? Aera asked my opinion about Pluto, whether it's a planet or not. Can you believe it?''

''You are so whipped,'' you let out a laugh that wrinkles your eyelids. His enthusiasm over your nephews made your day, a bolt of laughter spilled by your lips over and over again until you managed to ease it. ''such a cute man,'' wiping your tears away from your face cut by his hands when he grabbed yours.

''Y/N, did you... did you ever think about having a child? I know we never talked about this all these years, but I guess... No, I know I want one. Yes, I want us to have a child to raise together.'' his eyes burned with determination. It was enough for you to know he really serious about it. There was nothing for you to obligate it if you look. Both of you get paid well, had a nice home and big enough even for two kids, moreover, both of you love each other so much and you know that you two will love the exact same way if you have a child in this home. ''What do you think?''

Taking a deep breath to ease your thoughts you eyed the man you adored so much. His keenness sparkled in his eyes, waiting for your answer to be the happiest man alive. Even if you wouldn't want a kid in your life, you couldn't break his heart by saying no, but fortunately, you want this as much as him.

''I would love to have a baby who has the same gummy smile you got on there,'' Yoongi, your husband coos after what you said, holding you by the waist and twirls your body with himself. He acts like you just said you are pregnant, but you laugh and kiss him back when his soft one finds your lips. He thanks, swears that he will be the greatest dad and husband for this family.

The ring on the door cuts his words, tearing himself apart from you, he leaves to open the door wiggling his body in great joy. But you believe him. You would believe him even if he hadn't sworn and put his heart on it. He already was the best husband ever, and you had nothing to worry, frighten for. He will be the best dad in this world, as you know because he said so. Just like the time, he said you two will make a good couple after he took you home on your first date. As he said, you took his heart and his last name after four years.

Never regretting for one second on agreeing to go on an arranged date. And you knew that you won't have any other regret in the future, either. Not with the sweetest neurosurgeon you love so much.

#hodevent #houseofddaeng #heartsforbts #bangtanhq #bangtanarmynet #btsgoldnet #suganetwork #mygsnet #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #hyunglinenetwork #bts scenarios #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #dylanxmin

136 notes · View notes

chibi-pix · 3 years

Text

I was hit with the need to just talk about Pidges. And of course, I’ll go the route of talking about DotU, VF, and VLD Pidges! What exactly am I talking about? I guess thoughts, ideas, feelings, whatever. And talking about them just being a flock of dumbasses. Keep in mind, while I’ve watched VLD numerous times, I have only seen VF and DotU once each. But, they’re always on my mind.

Voltron: Defender of the Universe

A fine example of a dumbass Pidge, and I mean that in the best of ways. I’m not calling him that because he’s not a genius like VF and VLD, but because this is a lad who is a little extremely chaotic. He’s a bundle of energy and chaos. Did anyone give this boy weapons? I don’t really think so. I think he just found or stole them in most cases and pretty much said “Mine now!”. Remember the grenade? He was ready to blow himself up for the sake of Allura. Honey, please, we love you. Don’t blow yourself up! What he lacks in intellect, he makes up for in eagerness and energy. And of course cuteness. This little idiot may seem eager to die for the sake of his loved ones, but at least he’s trying. And he’s young. Perhaps when he grows up (I know, technically, to some degree, he is also VF Pidge, but things still differ, especially when my mind is at work), he’ll mellow out. A bit. He’d be less self-destructive, but he’d still be protective of his team and found family. And who knows, maybe he’d pick up on some technological skills and learn with that, too. Then he’d really be unstoppable. Now someone, please wrap this boy up in bubble wrap and duct tape, keep him safe.

Notes: Age: 12 (according to research) Alternative name: Shorty (from GoLion; I like using it for Realities Collide)

Voltron Force (2011)

Ah, the genius ninja dumbass. What’s not to love about this guy? Still the smallest (dude, the cadets are kids, and they’re taller than you! That’s adorable and amusing. Then again, by the time I ten, I was probably taller than you, too.). This guys is a genius. Quick to come up with new bits of technology as well as balancing his time with music and his ninja skills. However, he’s a bit of a mess, but that’s fine, too. No one is perfect. Imperfections are what makes people great. How is this lad a mess? He keeps updating so much, no one can keep up. He really needs to make a “Understanding Pidge tech for dummies” book or something to leave. I mean, they left contact information on the fridge, why not leave a book to understand things, too? Now then, let’s give this lad some space to show off some cool ninja tricks or to take a well deserved rest. Get him some cocoa, hold the marshmallows.

Notes: Age: 24 (whether it’s canon or not, I don’t care, I’m going with it) Alternative name: Darrell

Voltron: Legendary Defender

And finally, the adaptable dumbass. Don’t get me wrong, like Darrell, she’s pretty much a genius. But I will be honest, she may not be as intelligent as Darrell. Not to say she won’t be or even surpass him, but still. However, she may seem more so than her VF counterpart because, in my opinion and what I notice, she’s extremely adaptable. Galra tech? She adapts and hacks into it. Altean tech? She knows how to integrate it into different things without even learning from the Olkari. Olkari tech? She understood it with ease and was able to interface with their tech when her team failed. This is a lass who is just thrown into a war and she just pretty much says “Oh, tech, I can work with this.” But, like the other two, she’s a dumbass. She gets so caught up in things and rambles, infodumps, or, oftentimes worse, gets a one track mind that could be bad for the team. That last one is especially noted when she’s ready to leave the team to find her dad and brother. At least she’s considerate and planned on leaving the green lion and got a pod ready. But if she did leave, things would have gone bad. And it doesn’t always help that she’s stubborn, sometimes that makes things worse. But her stubbornness can also be good. Admittedly, it seems that she also sucks at social skills. She insults others or just straight up infodumps. But she does work best with computers than people. And she’s young. She’s bound to grow out of it and learn. For now, let her grow and find herself, find her family, and find an alternative to peanut butter because this child needs peanut butter cookies.

Notes: Age: 15 Alternative name: Katie

Realities Collide

I couldn’t leave out a Realities Collide situation with all three of them. Because I love the idea of the trio of Pidges interacting. I’ll be honest, Darrell would definitely be the big brother/parent in looking after Shorty and Katie. While at times he’d probably submit to their chaos and have fun, too, other times he would be stressing out over them. “Who gave this baby grenades?” “Katie, quit hacking into technology that we shouldn’t.” “No, you two cannot build a cannon and launch Shorty from it at Lotor’s castle!” But when they settle down for rest, they’re sweet and adorable. If anything happens to the two, he’d kill everyone in the room and then take them out for milkshakes. Shorty is protective. That much is known. And while he’d try to keep Darrell safe, too, I feel like he’d be super protective over Katie. And probably not because in such AU, I like utilizing blind au Pidge. She’s like an older sister, a sister he’s probably always wanted. And ignoring the fact that he actually said he had a kid sister back home, Anyway.... He wouldn’t want anything happening to her. He would also be in awe, watching his counterparts work, especially if they take the time to explain what they’re doing so he could understand.�� Katie may not have the same skills, intellect, and training as Darrell, but in her defense, she’s still learning, Darrell’s had time to adjust and learn. But she does well and adapts, and she’s probably happy to see the other Pidges as her brothers. From working on tech with Darrell to teaching Shorty to even just playing, she’d get along fairly well. She’d also do her part in defending them. She’d probably get hurt like Shorty, but she’d try to think her way through it more like Darrell. Overall, these three would make a good team. Work hard, defend the universe, then wind down to snacks and movies and go to bed.

In writing these, at least in my mind, Katie feels like a blend of Shorty and Darrell. She’s a feisty, determined, and chaotic like Shorty but brilliant and pretty much a genius like Darrell. It’s actually kinda cute.

Anyway! I hope y’all enjoy the thoughts of the flock of dumbass Pidges. Until next time!

13 notes · View notes

deobienthusiast · 3 years

Text

greatest blessings

• pairing: lee jangjun (golden child) x female reader

• word count: 8,902 words

• genre: mafia!au, gang member!au, angst, fluff

• rating: PG-13

• warnings: mentions of kidnapping, mentions of murder, gun violence, curse words, mentions of blood ⚠️IF ANY OF THIS MAY BOTHER YOU PLEASE DO NOT ENGAGE!!⚠️

• notes: (yall the this the longest fic i’ve ever written) also the is going to say joochan, but i remember you messaging to change it to jangjun🖤

• requested: yes | no by anon

For as long as you could remember, you were thrown into the world of danger. Your father, a notorious mafia leader, was the most respected, feared, and wanted man in South Korea. There was never a moment where you and your mother weren’t a target of some type of hostile fallout between your father and some other mafia members. Because of this, you never saw much of your father during your childhood. He kept his distance to keep you and your mother safe. In his place, he left his right hand guard, Dongwoo.

Dongwoo kept close watch of your mother and you, while training a young protégé. A boy named Jangjun. His father was a mafia guard and wanted his son to follow in his footsteps. Of course, Jangjun ended up having a huge falling out with his father, as he turned to Dongwoo as his father figure. You grew to like Jangjun. He was a lively boy with a giant personality. He lived to make people smile or laugh. Jangjun was always joking or yelling at the top of his lungs. When he needed to be serious, however, his temperament switched. Jangjun followed orders. He never shied away from a job.

As he got older, he grew into a devilishly handsome and incredibly talented man. And you took notice, big time. Jangjun truly blossomed, and in his eyes, so did you. You weren’t the quiet little girl that constantly ran to mommy with every tiny taunt made towards your giant thick-rimmed glasses. Instead, you grew into yourself. Thickened your skin, and became your father’s daughter. Every taunt Jangjun made now was met with a snarky remark that made his lips turn up into a smile. He thought you were beautiful.

You two were well aware of your feelings, but too stubborn to admit it. Jangjun because he didn’t want to believe in fate, and you because your father didn’t want you to be with someone that was a part of the mafia, a part of this life. A life full of danger and uncertainty. Unfortunately for him, your heart had other plans. You and Jangjun came clean with your feelings, and fell in love. As cheesy as it sounds, Jangjun was your other half. His personality never changed, and his love for you grew. Jangjun, himself, grew into a very powerful man. He became part of a mafia gang of his own which further fueled your father’s anger at your relationship.

Much to his dismay, you both got married. A small ceremony just on the outskirts of town. The only people present were your mother, Dongwoo, and Jangjun’s members. Your father being too bitter and self absorbed to show up. Not that you minded. Nothing, not even your father would ruin that day for you and Jangjun. You never bothered to get in touch with him after the wedding. Only opting to find out how he was through your mother. That’s how your father found out the news of the birth of your daughter, Mina.

If people thought Jangjun was head over heels for you, you would always tell them to watch how he acted with your daughter. Jangjun took being a dad to a whole other level. His senses heightened, and he took every precaution necessary to keep you and Mina safe. His whole world became about that little girl. A spitting image of her father, she had his bright smile, boisterous personality, and dark brown eyes. She was a crowd favorite, especially to Jangjun’s members like Bomin and Donghyun. When the members were around, they were the first two she ran too. Jangjun would always joke and say his daughter loved them more than she loved him. No one could be fooled though. No one would take her father’s place.

“Daddy!” You heard Mina yell as you folded up clean laundry in your bedroom.

Your husband’s laugh filled the large house you lived in as he made his way into your shared bedroom, your daughter perched in his arms. Identical facial expressions of crescent moon eyes and wide smiles made their way towards you as you gave both of them an amused look.

“Guess who I found hiding under daddy’s desk in his office?” Jangjun asked with a smile.

Your eyes went to the little girl who now had an innocent smile on her face, one she definitely learned from her father. “Office? Mina, you know daddy’s office is off limits.”

The little girl pouted, resembling her father through and through as she spoke in her little voice. “I was playing hide and seek with Joochan-ie.”

You and Jangjun laughed as he muttered. “Of course it was Joochan. Who else would let her get away with anything.”

Giving him a pointed look, you spoke. “Perhaps her father?”

Jangjun smiled at you before tickling the little girl’s stomach making her laugh. He set Mina down before kissing her forehead.

“Now, go play. With Bomin this time, since he’s the only one that listens.” Jangjun told her as her little legs carried her out of the room.

Just as she got past the threshold, you sighed. “You have to remind them not to let her into your office.”

Jangjun pulled you into his arms as he hummed, kissing your forehead. “I will.”

Kissing you softly, he pulled you even closer as you laid your hands on his chest. “I’m serious, Jun.”

Your husband pecked your lips once more. “I know you are. I’ll tell them. I promise.”

You nodded, feeling a little better at the situation. It wasn’t the area itself you were worried about, but rather the objects occupying the area. Jangjun kept all his weaponry in a locked closet in his office, but one pistol stayed perched under his desk in case of emergency. Your daughter’s knack of exploring (which she also got from Jangjun) worried you sometimes. You didn’t want her to ever find that weapon. She was too young to know any of the business her father was in, and you two planned to keep it that way for as long as possible.

Jangjun laid another soft peck, this time to your forehead before getting a notification on his phone, letting him know someone was here.

“Daeyeol?” You questioned, making your husband nod as his grip around your waist loosened.

He sighed before giving you a small smile and heading downstairs. You finished up with the laundry, putting things away where they were supposed to, stopping in Mina’s room to put her things away, before making your way downstairs. Passing by Jangjun’s closed office door, you stopped momentarily, wanting to sneak a listen, but remembered the talk your father had given you when he first caught you doing it when you were five. It scared the living daylights out of you, and since then you hadn’t done it. You never let your curiosity get the best of you.

You walked through the living room before landing in the kitchen, you looked over to the dining room and smiled. Your daughter sat on Bomin’s lap, coloring in a coloring book the boy must have pulled out as he watched. Upon hearing your footsteps, he looked up, giving you a smile. You returned it as you entered the kitchen, still watching the two. Bomin was on the newer side of this whole mafia thing. Being only 20 years old, he was raised in a mafia family, but much like your daughter, he was shielded away from it all. Bomin was tall, slim, and just looked like a baby. Sporting a very youthful look, it surprised people to hear his voice as it didn’t match his look at all. Bomin was on the quieter side, he opened up to the others, but to you he remained quiet. Very respectful and only speaking when spoken too. Mina loved the boy and managed to pull a more playful side out of him. This prompted Jangjun’s leader, Daeyeol, and Jangjun himself to have Bomin be in charge of the little girl.

“Hungry, Bomin?” You asked softly, making the boy lift his head from the very secretive conversation he was having with your daughter.

With a shake of his head, he spoke. “No thank you, noona. I appreciate the offer, though.”

You watched him bring his attention back to the little girl on his lap. One arm was wrapped protectively around her little body, holding her close to him as she continued to color and point out the different colors. Despite the boy politely turning down your offer, you still made him something to eat, along with the others. Once finished with all the meals, you moved towards the table. Neither your daughter nor Bomin stirred at the movement as you sat down, getting a closer look.

“Look at my picture mommy! Bomin-ie helped me.” Mina exclaimed, holding up the picture decorated in various colors like purple, black, brown, pink, and orange.

You smiled as you gently took it from her. “This is beautiful Mina! Truly a work of art. It’s good to know that you at least got something from me.”

Bomin chuckled at your underlying dig towards your husband as you stood to hang it on the fridge with her other colorful pictures. Just as you finished, you heard a door slam from upstairs as your husband came down the stairs, looking rather frustrated. Taking one last quick peak at Bomin and Mina, you walked towards him.

“Hey, is everything okay?” You asked, laying a hand on his cheek.

Jangjun physically relaxed as he leaned into your touch. “Daeyeol wants me to leave town for two days with him and Tag.”

“Leave? You haven’t left town since Mina was born.” You said, your hand dropping back to your side.

“I know. I told Daeyeol that I’m not comfortable leaving you two alone, but he insisted that there isn’t any other way for this job to work unless I leave with him.” Jangjun softly spoke, looking over your shoulder to eye Bomin and Mina.

“Jangjun, we weren’t finished talking.” You heard Daeyeol’s soft, yet stern voice resonate through the house as he made his way down the stairs.

With him came seven other guys as they watched the encounter. Jangjun’s frustration bubbled over again as he grunted, heading for the kitchen.

“Jangjun, you have to come with us.” Tag spoke softly.

Your husband shook his head. “I’m not leaving them.”

His hand raised as he gestured towards you and Mina.

“And I’m not giving you a choice. You’re our best gunman, you’re needed for this job. Besides the guys will be here to watch over the house and the girls.” Daeyeol told him, hoping to ease his nerves more.

This time, Jangjun’s emotions got the better of him as he slammed his fist down on the marble countertop. The loud noise caused you to jump and Mina to quiet as her head snapped towards the kitchen. Bomin quietly watched as well. You looked at Donghyun as he nodded at you.

“Bomin, take Mina upstairs.” Donghyun said as the boy stood up.

Mina wrapped her arms around the boy’s neck, hugging tightly to him as he headed for the staircase.

“Go with them.” You whispered to Donghyun as he obeyed almost immediately.

You waited for the three to disappear before speaking. “Jangjun, if you’re really needed for this then you have to go.”

His head shot towards you. “No I don’t. I’m not leaving you and Mina here alone.”

“We won’t be alone, and you know that.” You told him softly.

He let out a sigh of frustration as you and Daeyeol proceeded to try and ease him into the job. After a few minutes of consolation, Jangjun finally gave up his fight and headed upstairs to pack.

Daeyeol watched him before looking at you. “You know I wouldn’t pull him away from you if I didn’t have to.”

“I know. That’s why I helped you convince him. He’ll probably still complain, but it won’t be as bad.” You said making Daeyeol chuckle.

Jangjun came back downstairs, this time with your daughter in his arms as he walked over to you. Tag and Daeyeol took his bags.

“We’ll be in the car.” Tag said as he headed out the door.

Mina watched the two guys before noticing the bags in their hands.

“Are you leaving daddy?” She asked softly.

Jangjun set her down as he kneeled in front of her. “Yeah, I am baby. I won’t be gone long though, okay.”

She didn’t bother giving him an answer, rather she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, giving him a hug. They pulled apart as she gave him a kiss on the nose, making your husband smile.

“I love you, daddy.” Mina said as Bomin picked her up.

Jangjun poked her little nose as he whispered back to her. “I love you more, mini me.”

Bomin took Mina back upstairs as Jangjun turned to you. “And you, how am I going to be able to leave my adoring wife?”

Rolling your eyes, you laid your hands on his chest. “I’m sure you’ll manage.”

Jangjun kissed you as you whispered so only he would hear you. “Be careful and please come back to us.”

He nodded his head, pecking your lips once more before speaking. “I promise. I love you.”

You uttered those words back to him as he headed for the door. He gave you one last smile before speaking to Y who stood by the door.

“Take good care of them.” He more than ordered as the older male nodded.

Y closed the door, locking it behind him as you let out a sigh and prepared for the next two days.

Though it felt like years, hours had passed since Jangjun had left and you were feeling the full effects. Jangjun hadn’t left town in three years, vowing to never leave you or Mina by yourselves. You knew, however, that if duty called, Daeyeol would look to him first.

You started to prepare dinner, knowing that eventually you’d get complaints about seven men plus a three year old toddler being hungry. As you cooked, you heard someone enter the kitchen.

“Kimchi fried rice,” You heard Y say. “Why am I not surprised?”

You looked over your shoulder. “As if Mina will eat anything else.”

He smiled. “Like father, like daughter.”

You nodded to yourself as you heard the metal legs of the barstools scrape across the tile floor.

“I’ve gotta give you credit.” Y started. “Jangjun is much more grounded with you around.”

You grinned. “Is that a good thing?”

He nodded without hesitation. “Absolutely. Some people think that mafia members can’t handle family and work, but Jangjun is a prime example that both can work together.”

You thought about what Y had said as he continued to talk. Jangjun always made sure to make time for you and your daughter. He was an exceptional father. He never missed a birthday or anniversary. Any special occasion, Jangjun was there. Jangjun literally did everything to keep you and Mina safe.

“He’s definitely a hard worker. He’s also the best father. Mina adores her dad.” You quietly replied.

Y smiled to himself as you spoke again. “Do you ever want to have kids someday?”

He looked at you for a moment before bringing his gaze down to the marble countertop, tracing his fingers over the pattern. “I want to. It’s hard though. Finding someone that accepts my lifestyle.”

“That’s what you’re doing wrong. You don’t find someone that accepts your lifestyle. You find someone that accepts you.” You told him.

“Is that what you did with Jangjun?” Y asked.

Just hearing his name made you smile. “You could say that.”

“Hyung,” Someone said from behind Y as you both turned to the voice.

“Seungmin, what is it?” Y asked him.

“It’s Mina.” He said barely above a whisper as you dropped the spoon you were holding.

Racing up the stairs, you pushed past the two boys with your daughter as you dropped to your knees in front of her. She held a tight grip to the doll she was playing with as you checked her.

“You’re okay? You’re not hurt?” You asked quickly.

“Of course I am, Mommy.” Mina said with a giggle.

“But Seungmin said,” You started turning towards the boy as he interrupted you.

“She’s fine. It’s-it’s what she said.” Seungmin counter softly.

Y looked at the boy. “What do you mean? What’d she say?”

“I mentioned reading her a story so she could go to sleep. She kept saying she was tired, but she said that when her daddy reads her a story, her friend is with her too. Her friend in the backyard.” Bomin spoke up.

You turned to your daughter as she smiled. “In the backyard? Baby, our backyard is gated, there’s no one in the backyard.”

Mina’s little head nodded quickly. “Yes there is mommy. A man. He’s the same size as Bomin-ie. He comes every time daddy reads me a story. He visited me last night.”

Your eyes doubled in size as you looked towards Donghyun and Bomin. “What is she talking about? Is she talking about Daeyeol?”

Donghyun shrugged. “She said the man always wore a mask and a black hat.”

“He says he knows daddy, and that he knows me too. He even knows my name. He knows you too.” Mina said excitedly.

You pulled Mina into your arms as Y and Donghyun made their way towards her window. The large window made for a view of the entire backyard. Picking Mina up from the floor, you held her tightly in her arms as the two men kept looking out the window. They talked amongst themselves as you felt your daughter shift in your arms.

“Mommy, am I in trouble?” Mina asked quietly, almost too afraid to speak.

“You’re not in trouble, Mina.” Bomin spoke up before you could as Mina’s dark brown eyes trailed from your face to his.

“You promise?” She asked again.

Bomin nodded with a small smile. “I promise.”

“Mina should sleep with you tonight. We’ll put Joochan and Y outside your bedroom door. The rest of us will keep watch at every corner of the house that we can. If this guy comes back, we’ll be waiting.” Donghyun told you as you nodded.

Heading for your bedroom, you grabbed Mina’s favorite teddy bear and a pair of pajamas. You kept a close eye on her as you fed and then bathed her. As she fell asleep, there was a knock on the door. You opened it as Donghyun gave you a small smile.

“Is Mina asleep?” He asked softly.

You nodded. “She fell asleep about ten minutes ago.”

As if sensing the uncertainty in your tone, Donghyun spoke. “Hey, don’t worry. We aren’t going to let anything happen to Mina, or you. Jangjun would have our heads if we did.”

You laughed slightly as you nodded, agreeing with him.

“Just get some sleep.” He reassured as you thanked him.

As you closed the door, you took precautions and locked it behind you as you sighed, crawling into bed. You laid a kiss to your little girl’s head before laying your head on your pillow and drifting off to sleep.

You awoke to a sound just outside your door as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. Looking at the digital clock on the nightstand, you let out a sigh, getting up to go to the bathroom. When you opened the door, Y and Joochan had moved to the bottom of the stairs surveying the perimeter of the house. You took the opportunity to use the bathroom, bumping into Bomin on the way. He gave you a soft smile as you spoke.

“Will you watch over Mina really quick? I still don’t want to leave her alone.” You asked softly.

Bomin nodded as he headed for your bedroom. You quietly slipped into the bathroom as you looked over your reflection in the mirror. Running a hand through your hair, you turned on the faucet, running your hand under the cold water. Splashing some water on your face, you turned the water off and wiped off your face. You let out a sigh before opening the door. As you headed back for your bedroom, you quietly opened the door and jumped at the tall figure in the corner.

“Oh, Bomin you scared me.” You whispered out as the figure just stood.

“Bomin,” You whisper out again as the figure spoke.

“Not Bomin, my dear. Your friend is right there, by the door.” The voice spoke, prompting you to look at the ground.

Sure enough, Bomin’s body lay limp against the wall as you dropped next to him.

“Bomin, Bomin, hey can you hear me?” You leaned your head next to his chest, checking for a heart beat.

“Your friend is fine. I didn’t kill him. Not yet at least.” The man spoke.

You shook your head. “Don’t hurt him. He’s just a child.”

The man nodded. “I won’t hurt him, so long as you give me what I want.”

You looked at the open bedroom door before hearing the man tsk.

“Nuh uh. Close the door quietly. Don’t let anyone know I’m here.” He started.

You reached up for the doorknob, closing the door slowly as the figure made its way towards your bed, carefully sitting on the edge. You breath hitched in your throat as the body leaned over your daughter.

“Boss was right. She looks just like her father.” The man said.

“You’re the man my daughter’s been seeing. You’ve been watching her.” You told him with a fearful tone.

“Well of course. The boss wanted to make sure you didn’t leave town with Jangjun.” He told you.

You shivered at the way your husband’s name sounded on his tongue. “What do you want from me?”

Even in the darkness, you could make out the grim smile that was now perched on his face. “You, my dear are going to take your daughter and come with me. You two are very valuable, and it will help us get what we want from your husband. We’ll take your friend, too. Just for extra insurance.”

You felt a tear roll down your face as you watched another man crawl through your window. “We set up a diversion in the backyard. We’re all clear.”

Busting open the door, you scream. “Help! They’re in here!”

A pair of arms wrapped around your core as they pulled you back into the room, sticking a cloth over your mouth and nose. You struggled before falling limp, as everything went black.

When you came to, you were in a room blocked entirely in cement. The floor was cold underneath your body as you let your eyes adjust to the one single hanging light. It was bright enough to illuminate almost all of the room as you sat up. A pounding feeling took over your head as you groaned.

You looked around before spotting a chair in front of you with a boy tied up. You squinted to get a better look and gasped as you scrambled to your feet.

“Bomin! Bomin, hey, I’m right here. Look at me.” You lifted his hanging head, taking in the swollen eyes and busted lip.

The rope surrounding his hands and ankles were chafing the skin, rubbing it completely raw as the rope was starting to turn an orangish-red color. Bomin’s unconscious body stayed pinned to the chair as you continued to check him before stopping as you heard a lock rattle. A large door opened behind you as you kept your hands on Bomin’s legs, not bothering to turn around.

“I see you’ve noticed the work we did on your friend. He put up a good fight, but not good enough. Perhaps this life isn’t cut out for him.” A man said as you turned around.

The man looked familiar. Almost as if you had seen him before, but you couldn’t remember. His onyx colored eyes made you shiver as he spoke again.

“I’m surprised you don’t recognize me. I’ve only known you your entire life. I’m a former acquaintance of your father’s.” He told you.

You shook your head. “I haven’t spoken to my father in years. I don’t even know if he’s still alive.”

The man chuckled. “He is. Oh he is. And he owes me something. You see, your father and I made a deal 20 or so years ago. A deal that required me getting a larger amount of money. As you know, your father is a very powerful man. The most notorious mafia leader. He’s worth a lot, and he has a lot. In exchange for what I gave him, he gave me two billion dollars. Just a mere quarter of what he has in total.”

You looked back at Bomin, feeling him stir slightly as you spoke. “What did you give him.”

The man leaned forward, his face being hit with the light as your eyes widened. “My son.”

You let out a gasp as it all hit you. Jangjun had never had the best relationship with his father. He never truly wanted to be in this life, so he never forgave his father for just leaving him with some strange family. Though he always said he’d have to thank him some day for it allowed him to meet you. You had a feeling that thank you was never going to come now.

“I haven’t talked to my son in almost two decades.” The man said.

“Jangjun cutting ties with you had nothing to do with me.” You told the taller male.

“Yes, but you were a big influence. You don’t talk to your own father. No wonder he decided not to talk to me. Had he decided to, this whole thing would’ve been taken care of. I wouldn’t have had to kidnap you, Jangjun and I would still have a good relationship.” He started.

You scoffed. “You still never told me why I was kidnapped. And where’s my daughter?”

“Mina is fine. She’s asleep in the main house with my wife. I wouldn’t dare hurt my granddaughter.” He told you.

“No, just your daughter-in-law. Right?” You countered.

He shrugged. “You don’t seem to understand. You are worth a lot of money. In fact you and your daughter are worth the exact amount I’m owed by your father. So if he won’t give me my money, then I’ll use you two to get it myself.”

“Killing us won’t get you your money.” You whispered.

“But selling you will. Shipping girls off to other countries for, we’ll say “work”, pays a lot. And people know who you are and who your father is. I’ve had people lined up to pay me even more than your father offered just to have you two. However, I choose not to be too greedy.” He told you with a smile.

The resemblance between Jangjun and his father was uncanny. Each time the man smiled it reminded you of your husband. The dark eyes and slightly raspy voice were also similar to Jangjun.

Bomin jerked slightly under your touch as you turned back to him. “Bomin, hey. You’re okay.”

“I’ll leave you to think about what I said. I’d get comfortable though. It might be awhile.” The man said as he headed for the door.

He opened it before peeking back in and throwing two rags and chemical cleaner towards you. “You can untie your friend. He shows no danger. You can also clean up the mess his blood made on my floor. I don’t want a stain.”

The door slammed shut behind him as you heard Bomin groan before mumbling out. “I’m sorry.”

“What?” You asked quietly, not quite hearing him.

“I’m sorry. This is my fault.” He repeated louder this time.

You immediately shook your head, grabbing one of the rags to wipe at the blood on his face. “No. Bomin, no. This isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault.”

“They took Mina.” He whisper-cried with a sniffle.

“Mina’s fine. He told me she’s fine.” You whispered back.

He shook his head, drool and sweat mixed with blood fell from his face and mouth. “They’re gonna kill her.”

You froze at his words. “W-what?”

“I said, they’re going to kill her.” Bomin repeated, huffing out a groan at the way the muscles in his stomach contracted.

“How do you know?” You asked softly.

He attempted to lift his head, getting a look at your eyes as you gently held onto his face, keeping his head up. Your eyes pleading for him to continue.

“I came to in the van while they were driving us here. They were talking about you and your inheritance. You, you're worth a lot of money, but Mina isn’t. She’s not because,” You interrupted him.

“Jangjun is her father.” You whispered.

Your eyes had cast down to the suit pants he was wearing that were now battered in dried blood and dirt stains. You felt him nod in your hands.

“Mina is worth nothing to them. When your father dies, you get his estate, all his money. He left everything to you. Mina nor your mother are mentioned. Once they had sold you overseas, they were going to kill her.” Bomin breathed out.

Your hands started to shake as you lifted your head to meet his tired eyes. He coughed before speaking.

“You have to find a way to get out of here and get Mina.” He told you, making you shake your head.

“I’m not going to leave you. If we survive this, Mina would kill me.” You joked, making the boy crack a small smile. “We’re gonna get out here.”

Jangjun’s head hung low as he sat at the dark wood dinner table that sat in the middle of your dining room. In front of him was a picture taken on your wedding day. The look in your eyes that you were giving him made him feel at home and so so loved. He knew of course from the moment you agreed to go on a date with him that he was completed smitten over you. Jangjun didn’t want anybody else. He vowed to do anything to keep you safe. He did the same when Mina was born. Now, here he sat. Alone in his big house, after finding out the terrible news.

“How did this happen?” Jangjun asked calmly, scaring the others to no end.

Joochan gulped as he watched Jangjun’s fingers trace the cool black exterior of the picture frame holding your wedding picture. The guys noticed the way he ran his finger over your stomach in the picture. You were pregnant during the time you got married.

“I told you to watch over them.” Jangjun said.

All the guys nodded, but only one knew it was meant for him.

“I was. I-I did. We just,” Y started.

“You just what?” Jangjun countered, looking at him.

His face was stone cold. Eyes darker than usual. It made Y shiver.

“I, there was a small scrap in the backyard. They must have created a diversion. We headed to help Jibeom and Seungmin. It was all a set up though. When we checked upstairs, they had already left with Bomin and the girls.” Y said softly.

Jangjun stood up, making Y take a step back before Daeyeol came through the door.

“There’s someone at the gate.” Daeyeol said, walking through the front door. “They really want to speak with you. They said it’s urgent.”

“Who is it?” Jangjun asked, not taking his eyes of Y.

“Your father-in-law.” Daeyeol spoke, making Jangjun turn to him.

Jangjun nodded as Daeyeol opened the front door allowing Tag to enter with a man Jangjun had seen briefly in his lifetime, but still recognized.

“Mr. Choi, funny seeing you here.” Jangjun said.

Your father held a few inches on Jangjun as he looked around the large house taking in the other men with him. His eyes landed on your husband as his booming voice spoke.

“Lee Jangjun, nice to see you. I see you're doing well for yourself.” Mr. Choi said.

Jangjun scoffed. “I know you’re not here for small talk. What do you want?”

“More like what I have. I know my daughter and granddaughter were kidnapped under your guards supervision. I also know that you are unsure of who took them and where they are. Well I know.” He finished, catching Jangjun’s attention.

“You do? Where are they?” Jangjun asked, dark eyes wide with anticipation.

“Son, I’d sit down for this. Because it’s a lot.” Mr. Choi told him.

Jangjun listened, sitting in the chair he was previously preoccupying. His hand landed on the wedding photo, holding it down protectively.

“Where are they?” Jangjun asked again.

Your father shook his head. “When you were brought to me to be trained when you were younger, your relationship was already strained. You didn’t want this life, and you were forced into it. That being said, you grew into it. Your hatred led you to become the man you are today.”

Jangjun shook his head. “Your daughter did. Can we just get to the point please.”

“They were kidnapped by your father.” Mr. Choi said.

“W-what? No! There’s no way my father is even still alive. He had too many enemies!” Jangjun reasoned.

“No. It was your father. He is still alive. You see, you ended up in my care, being trained by Dongwoo and I because your father wanted you to become a mafia leader of your own. In exchange for giving you to me, I was going to give your father a lot of money. I saw a lot of potential in you, and promised your father you would be a huge success,” Your father stopped to look around the house again. “I was clearly right. However, a dangerous enemy had made his way into Seoul, and I had to leave the country. I never got the chance to pay your father his money. Now he’s taking the girls.”

Jangjun looked at him confused. “What will that solve?”

“Because they’re worth something.” Jibeom spoke up.

Mr. Choi nodded. “Technically, my daughter is. Mina isn’t. At least not yet. My will leaves everything to my daughter. That’s the money I owe your father plus more. I’ve had overseas enemies that have been dying to get their hands on her. With her in your father’s custody, they are probably swarming the phones in negotiations.”

“What about Mina?” Jangjun asked.

You father let out a sigh. “If she’s no value to them, then your father will kill her.”

Jangjun felt his heart stop at the mere thought of someone hurting his daughter or you. He wouldn’t be able to live without the two of you.

“Okay. So we go get them.” Jangjun quickly said as the members nodded, getting ready to prepare themselves.

Mr. Choi spoke up. “Hold on. You don’t need to be going to get her.”

Jangjun looked at him with fire in his eyes. “And why the hell not?”

“Because you’re the reason she got kidnapped.” Your father said.

Jangjun was fuming at his words as he yelled, venom dripping from every word. “No. You’re the reason they got kidnapped. Not me. I didn’t make a deal with my father, you did. I didn’t promise him money then fall back on my word, you did. You’re to blame for all of this. So if you think I’m going to entrust my wife and daughter into your hands, you are surely fucking mistaken.”

No one had ever talked to your father in the manner Jangjun just did. He was too feared, too respected for people to disrespect him. He wasn’t used to someone not falling to their knees begging for his mercy. Jangjun gave him one last look before him and Daeyeol started throwing out orders. All the guys prepared, Jangjun yelling out things to grab and ordered people around on a plan before everyone stopped and looked at Mr. Choi.

“Where are they?” Jangjun asked again.

Your father cowered slightly at Jangjun’s tone before speaking. “At least let me go with you. So I know that they are okay.”

Jangjun looked at Daeyeol who sent a shrug his way as he sighed. “Fine. But stay out of the way.”

The man nodded as they all headed for the door. They got into separate cars, Jangjun opting for the one your father got into as they drove off the property. Jangjun’s head perched against the window watching the buildings fly by as he messed with the cool, black metal on his left ring finger. He brought his ring-clad hand up to his mouth, kissing the metal gently as he whispered to himself.

“I’m coming for you baby.”

You felt around the walls of the room you were in, hoping to find some type of fault in its build as Bomin watched you. The swelling in his eyes had gone down only slightly, but was still very prominent. The feeling was starting to get back to his hands and arms as he would lift them every so often to rub at his legs. He would grunt each time his hands ran across his torso or the cuts and bruises on his face.

“Bomin, just stay still. Moving isn’t going to help.” You chastised.

The younger boy nodded as he spoke. “Did you figure out a way out of here?”

Shaking your head, you spoke. “The door opens from the outside. It’s like it molds into the walls because I can’t even find a pattern where the door would be.”

Bomin lifted his head, looking around the room before his eyes landed on the light fixture hanging from the ceiling. “The light.”

You turned to look at him. “What about it?”

“How much of the room is it lighting up? Do we have another light source?” Bomin asked.

There were no windows, and with no signs of a door, you wouldn’t be able to know if there was an exit. “As far as I know it is.”

“You need to pull it from the ceiling.” Bomin said.

Tilting your head, you gave him a confused look. “I don’t understand.”

“The light fixture. The surrounding area around the part hooked to the ceiling, that could be your way out.” Bomin breathed out.

You walked towards the light, looking up at it before reaching up for it. The low hanging light was just out of your reach.

“I can’t reach it.” You said before jumping.

Your hand wrapped around the cord, pulling at the light fixture slightly.

“Harder,” Bomin prompted.

You yanked at the cord, hearing a tear from above you as your feet could finally fully lay flat on the ground. Bomin’s head lifted to look at the fixture before nodding to himself.

“Again.” He instructed.

You pulled on the cord a third time, this time harder than the rest as it dropped almost three feet down, pulling the wiring from the ceiling with it. Pieces of cracked cement lay by your shoes as you looked at the boy.

“Unscrew the bulb.” Bomin said. “Then break off the leg of that chair. Make sure to break it at an angle, you want a sharp end.”

Nodding, you unscrewed the fluorescent bulb, cursing silently at the temp of it as you carefully set it down in Bomin’s lap before reaching for the old chair. You looked back at Bomin as he mustered up enough energy to move his legs.

“You gotta break the chair.” He repeated.

“Bomin, I can’t,” He stopped you.

“Throw the damn chair at the wall. Hard! Then grab the sharpest piece from the rubble and hand it to me.” Bomin spoke again.

You nodded as you got a good grip on the chair. Lifting it up, you took some steps back before getting a running start. You threw the chair with everything you had at the wall. It landed with a crash, falling to the floor in pieces as you scrambled to find one. A piece from the top of the chair stuck out as it had snapped in half, providing a point at the tip. You quickly grabbed it, handing it to Bomin as you heard something unlatch.

Bomin tossed you the lightbulb as he whispered. “It’s going to hurt, but at the first chance run up to the guy and bust it in his face.”

You nodded preparing yourself as the door was pushed open. You went to read your arm back before recognizing the person who opened the door.

“Daeyeol,” You called out, making Bomin’s head snap towards the opened door.

Daeyeol’s face began to soften in relief before he noticed Bomin. “You guys are okay. Thank god you guys are okay. Jangjun, I found them!”

Daeyeol quickly checked over you before you pushed him away. “Check Bomin. Check him first, I’m fine I promise.”

Daeyeol didn’t hesitate to listen, dropping to his knees to check on the youngest member. It was no surprise to you as Daeyeol had always been more protective over Bomin. You headed for the door before stopping, immediately. Your eyes met those of your father’s making you take a step back before hearing a familiar voice.

“Daeyeol, where are you,” Jangjun stopped, making you let out a sigh of relief.

Feeling your feet take off before you could process it, you ran right into his arms. Your weight hit Jangjun like a truck making him grunt, but he didn’t lose his footing as he lifted you off the ground. Pulling you closer into him, he let his head fall into the crook of your neck as you wrapped your fingers into his dark locks, tugging at them slightly.

“Oh thank god! I thought I was going to lose you. I’m so glad to have you back in my arms.” Jangjun brought your feet back to the ground as he pulled you in for a deep kiss.

You kissed back before pulling away. “They still have Mina.”

“They got through all the guards in the house. Your father barricaded himself in a room with Mina. He’s not coming out.” Tag said as he jogged over to the two of you.

You looked past him at your father’s lingering stance before speaking.

“Daeyeol is probably going to need help with Bomin. He needs medical attention.” You told Y.

He nodded, heading back inside the bunker-type building as Jangjun grabbed your hand.

“Come on.” He started to pull you away from the building as he stopped in front of your father.

Your grip on Jangjun’s hand tightened as you looked at the man.

“I’m so glad you’re safe.” He told you.

You didn’t look at him as you spoke. “I want to find my baby.”

Your father nodded as he turned towards the main house. He led you and Jangjun into the house as you were met with Seungmin.

“He locked himself in the master bedroom on the second floor. Mina’s in there with him. We aren’t firing any shots.” Seungmin said.

Seungmin led the way upstairs before stopping. Joochan and Donghyun were waiting by the double doors as your husband spoke.

Jangjun nodded. “We gotta break the door down.”

Joochan and Donghyun nodded as they took a step back. They both lifted a leg before kicking open the double doors to the master bedroom. When they fell open, you were met with your daughter and Jangjun’s father. He held Mina in his arms as everyone stopped.

“Jangjun. My, my, look at you. My only son. Look at the man you’ve grown into.” Jangjun’s father said.

Jangjun spoke lowly. “Give me my daughter. Now.”

You watched his grip on Mina tighten as she reached out towards you and Jangjun.

“Daddy.” She whined slightly, wriggling in his father’s grip.

Your father stepped past the both of you, making you look at him.

“Please, let her go. I’m the one that owes you something. Not them. This little girl, my daughter. They are innocent in this.” Your father pleaded.

Jangjun’s father chuckled. “You think I want anything to do with this child. She’s worthless. Take her.”

He set Mina down as she took off through the broken doors, immediately running to Jangjun. He picked her up, holding her close as she wrapped her little arms around his neck.

He kissed her forehead before handing her off to Donghyun. “Both of you, go to the car. Stay with her.”

They nodded as Jangjun waited until the two guys got downstairs before turning to your father.

He nodded as he spoke. “I’m here to give you the money I owe you, Lee.”

Jangjun’s father shook his head. “I don’t want your damn money. I want her.”

A slim, boney finger raised up to point at you as Jangjun’s wrapped a protective arm around your waist.

“She is worth more than anything. I gave you your child back, so you give me her.” Jangjun’s father continued.

Your father spoke up. “That wasn’t our deal.”

“You broke our agreement years ago. Time for new negotiations. Don’t you think?” Jangjun’s father said before Jangjun looked at you.

He gave you a tender smile before whispering. “Don’t look.”

You nodded, wrapping an arm around his torso and hiding your face in the crook of his neck. You felt him move slightly before hearing the click of a gun. Shutting your eyes, you jumped as two shots were fired off. Lifting your head, Jangjun looked at you as he pecked your forehead. You heard groaning behind you as you turned. Jangjun’s father lay on the floor clutching his leg as he let out another painful groan.

“Let this be a lesson to you.” Your father told him.

Jangjun kept his hand around your waist as he led you to the staircase before stopping. He turned back around, heading towards his father with his gun in hand before stopping in front of him, pointing the barrel right at his head.

“Don’t you ever come near me, my wife, or daughter ever again, or next time, I’ll put a bullet through your fucking head.” Jangjun told him, earning a look of fear from his father as he tucked the gun back into the waistband of his pants.

He walked back over to you, as you headed down the stairs and outside of the house. Jangjun kept his grip on you as you, him, and your father got into a car.

“Daeyeol took Bomin to the hospital. I told him we’d meet him there.” Jangjun spoke softly, as to not spook you.

“Where’s Mina?” You asked.

He turned to point at the car through the back windshield as he countered. “She’s with Joochan and Donghyun. They’re going to follow us.”

You nodded, leaning into Jangjun as he pecked the top of your forehead. Your father sat up front as Y drove, watching the two of you through the rear view mirror. He sighed to himself as he collected his thoughts throughout the drive.

As the car pulled into the drive of the hospital, you and Jangjun were the first two to jump out and head into the hospital. Daeyeol spotted the two of you as he walked up to you. The rest of the crew had joined inside the emergency room as he spoke.

“They took him back and admitted him.” Daeyeol said softly.

Jangjun nodded. “How bad is he?”

Daeyeol sighed. “Three broken ribs, a fractured orbital bone, a cracked nose, lacerations around his wrists and ankles. Surprisingly, he had no internal bleeding or head trauma. They said he’ll be fine.”

Donghyun was the last to enter the hospital, Mina perched on his hip as he walked up to you. You smiled, thanking him quietly as you took her from his arms. You held her close, laying a hand on the side of her head as you kissed her temple. Jangjun pulled you into him, gently pulling Mina down to kiss her forehead as he whispered to you.

“I’m so glad you both are okay. I would’ve been lost without you.” Jangjun said quietly.

You smiled, pecking his lips lightly before hearing a door open. A nice looking lady came out, wrapped in a long white coat as she spoke.

“Are you Choi Bomin’s party?” She asked, making all of you nod. “Great. Well as I told Mr. Lee before, Bomin is going to be just fine. He just needs a lot of rest and time for healing. He’s very lucky. Though his injuries were serious, they weren’t severe.”

“Can we see him?” You asked softly.

The doctor smiled. “Of course. Try not to overwhelm him though, okay?”

You all nodded as Daeyeol looked at everyone. “Jangjun, you can go first if you’d like?”

Jangjun inhaled slightly before nodding as he looked at you and Mina. “Do you want to come with me?”

You nodded as the three of you headed for the room. Jangjun opened the door gently before ushering the both of you in behind him. He closed it behind him as you walked over to the side of Bomin’s bed. Mina’s head lifted slightly, taking in who was laying on the small bed as she spoke.

“Bomin-ie.” She called out faintly.

It was loud enough for the boy to hear as he opened his eyes slightly turning to look at you. Bomin smiled as his brown eyes looked at Mina. She kicked slightly in your hold, letting you know she wanted to be put down. You sat her on the side of Bomin’s hospital bed as you whispered.

“This is where you have to sit right now, okay?” You asked her.

Her little head nodded as she spoke. “Are you sick Bomin-ie?”

The three of you laughed slightly as Bomin nodded gingerly. “I’m okay, mini me. Just a little down and out. I’ll be here for a little while.”

Mina pouted slightly. “But what about our tea party?”

Jangjun gasped slightly. “Oh no, not the tea party.”

You rolled your eyes at your husband as Bomin smiled. “Have Donghyun fill in for me, okay? I’ll be back soon though. I promise.”

He lifted his hand to hold out his pinky as Mina linked her tiny finger around his.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Bomin.” Jangjun said, looking at the younger boy.

Bomin smiled as Jangjun spoke again. “Thank you for keeping them safe. You risked your life for them.”

“When you put me in charge of Mina after her first birthday, I promised you I’d take a bullet for this little girl. I’d never go back on my word. You know that.” Bomin told him.

Jangjun nodded with a smile. “Thank you.”

Bomin grinned before speaking. “Just make sure I’m not in here for months. I hate hospitals.”

The three of you laughed before someone spoke. “You’ll be out of here in no time. I made sure that you got the absolute best care and best doctors and nurses working on you.”

Bomin’s eyes took in the man at the foot of his bed as he spoke in a confused tone. “Thank you.”

“Bomin, this is my father.” You said without looking at the man.

Bomin nodded as he relaxed slightly.

“Thank you for doing your absolute best to protect my daughter and granddaughter.” He told Bomin.

Your father turned to Jangjun as you rounded the bed. to stand next to him. Jangjun wrapped his arm around your waist, squeezing slightly in a sign of affection.

“Jangjun, I underestimated you. I never gave you a chance when my ex-wife told me that you and my daughter were getting married. Then she told me about Mina, and I knew I needed to get past my own reservations. You make my daughter very happy. You've both created a beautiful little girl who I must say looks, just like her father. Family is a person's greatest blessing. I know you have your own little family, but if it’s not too much to ask, I’d like to be a part of it.” Your father said, making you and Jangjun look at each other.

Jangjun gave you a look that meant he was letting you decide as you smiled at him. You turned to your father as you spoke.

“It’s going to take some time, for us to move past everything and this, of course. But, I know Mina would enjoy getting to know her grandfather.” You told your father, watching a smile grow on his face.

He thanked you as Jangjun exhaled. “Well, I think it’s time to go home. What do you think?”

You giggled slightly, sparking a small smile from your husband as you nodded. “Just as long as you’ll be there.”

“Oh, absolutely. I’m never letting you out of my sight again. That was the worst day of my life. Now, time for us to go home and for me to never let go of you and Mina. Like, ever.” Jangjun told you, making you laugh.

He picked up Mina, who instantly cuddled into him as he pecked your forehead.

“My greatest blessings, that’s what you two are.” Jangjun whispered as he led the two of you back to your home, where he cuddled and held you close the entire night.

#kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #lsn.works #kpopscape #kpopficsnetwork #golden child #golden child jangjun #lee jangjun #golcha #golcha jangjun #golden child imagines #golden child scenarios

38 notes · View notes

sunset-novice-writer · 4 years

Text

Pinky Promises

Dedicated to: @blackgirlanimes

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I urge guys to please go check out her blog. Her writing is amazing, and Merch is my favorite series by her. Plus, I wanted to give something back since she works hard on filling requests. I feel that writers sometimes need to have time to enjoy reading things too. (No matter how much I sort of cringe at my writing. Lol ^-^;)

This is my first official post to my Novice Writing blog. Whatever happens, I put this out there. As the saying goes, “Practice shows your effort.” Well, it's just a piece I got inspired by original songs I listened to too. Although the last bit at the end with some lyrics I came up with.

Hope you enjoy the writing of the unedited version. Let me know if you guys want a part two. I apologize in advance if anyone seems OOC it’s unbeta’d while it will be re-edited sometime later.

|| ||| ||| || ||| || ||| || || ||| || ||| || ||| || ||| ||| || ||| ||| ||||| || ||| || |||| || ||| ||| || |||| |||| || ||| ||

Summary: Leaving to visit your birth parents in America was something exciting and sad for you because there was one person you would miss more than anything. An explosive blonde with harsh words though hiding behind what he really feels. You make a promise to return to him without fail in a year, and somehow you find yourself surprised instead.

Is it possible for you to make up after an argument leaves things up in the air ?

Contains: Bakugou Katsuki x Fem! Reader

Setting: |AU Modern |

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ||||||||||||||||||||||||| |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| |||||||||||||||||||||| |||||||||

[ Scattered Pieces ] Part One

There you were sitting on the steps of your house you’d dreaded this day for months. While listening to your music, the song of somber feelings made you blink your eyes to stop the tears from falling. Everything around you would be all but a vision of something so far away, that left you wanting to take in the view of cloudy weather.

The light shower of rain curled your hair a little, causing you to give a brief smile. A time for reminiscing is something that came naturally during a crucial moment like this. Still, what awaited on the other side of the country was a chance to learn about the family who gave you up. Maybe hope to leave the resentful feelings of being tossed away to give you some closure, or the real understanding of why you give up for adoption clearer.

One thing seemed to cross your mind all time leading up to the days of the departure. A certain explosive little porcupine that wouldn’t take the news well of you disappearing on him.

Bakugou Katsuki…

First of many things that troubled you, the hurt he masked into dismissal with the egotistical nonchalant attitude you’d admired. During that moment you couldn’t stand him when he acted the way he did about you leaving for a year. Then again, you found it annoying at the same time how his temper blew up like a grenade. Only leaving a reminder of the wreckage his words left you still fresh in your mind to ruin.

“See if I care, dumbass! Go on, back where you came from and let them abandon you again!”

It was almost as if you could hear the words echoing in your mind from that incident.As if it were happening once more which you felt nothing next to numb. All except the pain that etched on your face returned while you blinked your eyes to stop the tears. Beyond the surface it wasn’t like you wanted to leave, still this was your chance to find your own answers of your past.

Your lips trembled cursing at yourself for letting the tears slip away he knew that was something hurtful. All the fears of going to meet the parents who wanted to meet you made you second guess how to approach them. The only action you did toward his comment turned around shaking your head at him not letting words fall from your lips. Instead was nothing that left your lips as you remember staying still. Thinking back on it, somehow you doubt even now he would come to see you off something inside you was fine with it.

How dumb were you like these getting angry after the fact when the moment is over?

Whatever the case you were glad that you had said nothing during that moment, as your hand moved to wipe the tears from eyes you took a deep breath. Whenever you faced your biological parents face to face you would deal with what came your way whether it be disappointing, or happy at least you’d get some answers.

After all your parents wanted you to know where you came from while taking you to explain everything when they told you the truth.Something that you would be grateful for sure you could’ve been angry about them keeping this enormous secret. Yet. you knew your parents worried about things you couldn’t understand as a child. Even if neither one of them had a connection by blood to you.

You couldn’t help to be happy beyond words, you could express that you got a life full of love, and sadly most kids like you don’t have time to experience. Reality of your situation, you got to have a home with these wonderful people though sometimes you felt a disconnect when you saw other of your peers with the parents.it was your adopted parents. Still, the days passed continuously since your encounter with Katsuki. You felt happy that at least despite the harsh words he left you with you.

“Maybe it’s better that I didn’t say everything I wanted.” You stated with resolve, your eyes would express another story of regret before you pinched your right cheek to snap you out of it. Your mopy thoughts needed to take a back seat. You wanted to face your actual parents, to ask everything you felt. In the back of your mind, you wanted to have his support behind you.

You want to move forward to well really to get there then you plan to do next. Placing Bakugou at the back of your mind would be the best thing you could do for right now.

That would be fine, you could handle it, nothing would get in the way. Especially not the explosive blonde you were probably throwing himself into a distraction to avoid thinking of you. They had made sure they packed the luggage into the car the night before and learned that your father wanted to take a later flight instead of the current one.

Sweet little broccoli is calling you~ Never knew a broccoli could blush like a tomato, like a tomatoo--Oh yeah! I love you my sweetpea fresh like chili broccoli..~

A brief buzz came from your pocket causing you to let laughter burst from your mouth. You saved this as Izuku’s ringtone, much to his flustered expression every time he heard it with an embarrassment covering his face. You didn’t think it was that bad besides you worked on creating something like this for his Mom. An early mother’s day gift, so she wanted a ringtone that fitted her beloved son. So you helped him with it much how he was shy singing it, but you did it with him. At least you could find your spirits lifting a fraction. Before you answered the call you went to work on calming down your giggles first.

“Hey, Izuku. What’s up?”You questioned, you wondered why he called suddenly out of the blue like this, yet it was nice to talk to someone either way.Still, you heard him speak on the other of the line.

“Hey, [Name] is everything all right?” Midoriya's tone was curious, as if he was trying to figure more than she’d let on. Then you as if something told he wanted to talk about something else. He was very observant, though the thoughts of your conversation with Katsuki crawled back up, but you wanted to avoid it.

“Mhm, I’m all right, Izuku.” Your voice relaxed, giving a bit of a chuckle that escaped your lips. In the event to stop him from trying to read too much in to what you wanted to hide.You smiled thinking of your trip besides you knew your doubts and worries came out of nervousness to be honest.

“I’m ready to face my biological parents--to get the answers to my questions.” You continued there was a bite of bitterness in your voice which he caught.

Why did you let that tiny swirling frustration come out of you now?

“[Name], is it really about that or is it about Kacchan..?” Izuku asked, his voice cut through your voice caught in your throat when he mentioned him. Now, you stammered with your own reply.

“N-No, it's not about Bakugou.” Damn it. You cursed you weren’t trying to sound stumble with Midoriya though he knew Katsuki just and you. Yet, you wondered what he knew about his outburst, though you didn’t want to go into it.

At your obvious lie, all you heard on the other sigh of the phone was him sighing at your stubbornness. What else could you say about the subject? He knew about what transpired, though you were sure where he learned it from. Either way, you didn’t see a point in just putting it behind a shade so you came clean.

“He’ll come around as hot-headed as Katsuki is.” Midoriya said while pausing for a moment. Still, you couldn’t help but agree with him. “I know he will see you off—He will miss you everyone will [Name].” He replied, you would miss him along with all your friends.

Hoping was all you could do for the moment was that Bakugou came through to say goodbye on better terms. A negative thought was lingering inside your head like a deathly plague he might not. When trying to predict his moods like was trying to disarm a ticking time bomb even though you knew he had moments of caring. It was just obscured by the rough edges of his personality, though you saw it more than most.

“I will take your word for it,Izuku.I just hope to see him one more time...” You smiled lightly, while conversing a little more with Midoriya longer before ending the call. Drifting further away from your persistent thoughts that resurfaced, you got saved from them. Your parents returned home with some takeout from your favorite place while you saw their car pull in the driveway.

All your unease that made you restless to hear from one person disappeared. You wanted to at least hear his voice say his common catch phrase, or the fear you held made you more concerned to call him.

You stopped up at your front door to glance down at your iPhone, glancing at the screen saver you stored secretly. It was Bakugou Katsuki in his usual stance, though he sported a splash of color dusting his face a bright pink. His scowl was clear while crimson eyes held his glare with your arms wrapped around his waist. What happened that day made your smile return, though suddenly it dimmed altogether once more.

A confession that would stay hidden with which you want to tell him. A single tear fell from your eye that splashed on the screen of your phone. You bit back the sobs that wanted to escape your throat, deciding it would be better to compose yourself. You didn’t want your folks to make a fuss about why you felt sad moment. You wanted to just forget and enjoy their company. While that faint melody of the song you were playing echoed its somber words when you entered your house.

Let you hear the words I want to say…

Before I disappear never again to see your face…

I love with the confession of my feelings seemed to go unanswered.

Yet, they linger only for you..

Something that when unnoticed just outside your gate was the very boy you were thinking of now. He contemplated going to your door before growling in frustration turning on his heel walking back to his home.

“Damn it...” Katsuki wasn’t sure how he’d apologize to you that didn’t stop the prickling feeling that stabbed his chest. Your sobs only dug it deeply into how his words cut you. This whole situation was shitty to him you leaving hating to admit he would miss a lot than he expressed. He didn’t want to lose you even if it was to get your answers he wished to find those shitty parents of yours to tell them that. They shouldn’t have given someone like you up even if it was for a beneficial thing for you, yet it is a grateful feeling that he met you because of it.

At least that Deku told him when you’d be departing, so he’d make sure you’d come back. A promise he wanted to deliver before you went halfway across the country to get your answers..

||||||||||||||||||| |||||||||||||| ||||||||||||||||

I can’t believe that I finished this at 2:37 AM. Hope everyone enjoys this blurb. All that to see if you all want to see a Part Two. I’ll probably work on making masterlist sometime tomorrow.

#practice writing #dedication #BNHA #BakugouxFemReader #pocifyousquint #bnha x reader

206 notes · View notes

peakyxtommy · 4 years

Text

The First Two Years - Wedding Series AU

Summary: Tommy reflecting back on his first two years of his relationship with the reader as he prepares to ask your father for his blessing to marry you. (Modern AU , Bit OOC) | 3.3K |

Warnings: Slight Violence, Death , Mostly Fluff

He knew he wanted to be with you for the rest of his life. While he sat in his main office, taking a rare break, he was staring at the engagement ring he brought a month ago. Nobody knew except for him, despite Polly having some suspicion. It made him feel giddy on the inside, lovesick, but it was the one thing he was sure of, that he truly wanted. You.

He was sure and trusted you more than anyone. He knew you loved him, but there was always that fear in the back of his head that he wasn’t good enough for you. He’d enjoyed you for this long in his life that any second it could be taken away. His heart was the one thing he was willing to take a risk on because he only found solace with you. It was all the little moments that added up and floated to his mind, that ended up making him come to the conclusion.

The night he first met you, you were having drinks in the Scarfes bar in London with Ada and mutual acquaintances. The group of you talking about an upcoming weekend trip you were planning to take and the woes of university life a second time through. You were yourself the whole evening, even when he came to disrupt the conversation stealing Ada away to talk quick business. As he watched you interact with his sister and your group of friends for the remainder of the evening, he noticed the confidence that rolled off your shoulders, the laughter that left your mouth, and the way you said a simple goodnight to him on the way out the building.

He knew he had to meet you again. It wasn’t hard when he would drop by Ada’s unexpectedly or find a way to sit next to you when the lot of them went out to drink at the Garrison or Bars in London. He learned little things about you observing you through those conversations. How sometimes you would sit quiet and observe the conversation from time to time. When you spoke, you spoke with purpose. You weren’t afraid to speak your mind either.

You played hard to get, like a game of cat and mouse. You were stubborn and strong-willed. When he first asked out you, you were shocked to say the least. You knew about the legitimate parts of his business, only hearing tall tales of the rest, but it didn’t make you not believe the underground side, but cautioned it. You heard rumors of his reputation of him screwing women over just to get what he wanted and the hotel he would go to get his sexual desires met.

Those should have been red flags, but on the other side he was a high esteem family business man and OBE. You couldn’t deny how good looking he was and the chemistry you felt between your small encounters. You denied him the first two times as you were a busy graduate student and worked part time. You were also still heartbroken from your last long-term relationship, not looking to start up something new. Tommy Shelby was relentless, never taking no for an answer. It was on the third try that you said yes to him, promising him one date. To not mess it up.

The first date was smooth. He invited you to his cozy London apartment. Where you were served Spaghetti Bolognese and warm toasted garlic bread. He drank Whiskey, you red wine. Frank Sinatra playing through his record player. You shared tidbits about your childhood and university years. He shared about the hard questions you asked him about his business, wanting to hear what you thought you knew. He shared appropriately (not dishing family business or current dealings), finding it amusing. You asked what he did for fun, to which he responded with work. Both you letting out a chuckle. The conversation flowed so easily between the two of you. He drove you home a quarter to midnight and kissed you goodnight.

He was hooked by the third date, things taking off slow as you were both busy people. Both working hard to achieve the goals you wanted to accomplish in this life. Both struggling with trust issues and hang-ups from past relationships or lack thereof on his end. Those first couple of months was blissful, being in the depths of the honeymoon phase.

At six months you had officially met all his family and closest mates. They adored you and were fond of your relationship with him, noticing the small change in him, that they hadn’t seen since he’d been back from the war. He would make space for you in his office to complete your studies and you’d make room in your apartment for him to relax on the odd weekend off with reading in your living room, breakfast in bed, or cuddling in the morning after a passionate night together.

You were nervous for him to meet your family as they were more traditional than his. He charms your mother as soon as he steps foot in your house. Feeding in charmingly to her mannerisms and jokes. Your father was harder to crack. You knew your father would give him a hard time. Your father played up to the best of his ability in front of your mother, but your father asked to speak to him in private. Where they discussed his business, your safety, and the seriousness of the relationship because if it was to be a waste of time, he should just cut the losses now. Thomas reassured your father well. When you asked what the two of them discussed, he simply said, “Nothing for your pretty little head to worry about.” You left it at that.

He knew deep down for a long time, that he loved you, afraid to say those words, even though he knew five months in.

It was eight months in on a quiet afternoon spent in your apartment. He was doing book-work at the table, collecting a stock pile of smokes in his ashtray, letting out stressful grumbles of frustration, every now and again. You were reading on the couch, sometimes sneaking small glances at him but eventually becoming restless from the silence and being indoors all day. You decided to make both of you a tea and as you sipped your tea across from him at the kitchen table, you spoke those words out into the open. You watched as his pen stopped writing, his eyes coming to meet yours. You could see the smirk on his lips and the light blush that caught his cheeks.

“Cat got your tongue, Mr.Shelby.” You teased, as you both finished the rest of your teas in silence. He lit another cigarette, knowing that you didn’t need him to voice it aloud, as you knew in your heart through the little things he did. As you stood to get up to clean the empty dishes and empty his tray, he rose to stand in front of you. Hands grabbing your biceps, warm breath coming to your ear.

“I love you too, (Y/N).” He whispered, removing his right hand to clasp against the back of your head, deciding to connect his warm lips to yours. Moving slow, delicate, and in sync. He pulls apart, the small smack of wet lips, leaving you both panting. He goes to his seat at the table to finish the final paperwork, not missing the tint in your cheeks and the lasting grin for the remainder of the evening.

After a year together you still had to watch out for Lizzie, which at first did turn into a heated argument between you and him. Due to your jealousy and slight insecurity that would feed off her jealousy toward you. They had a past together, one neither of you could deny, evening knowing he didn’t treat her the greatest in that regard. The way she would sometimes pine after him, would make your blood boil, knowing it kinda fed his ego. He would love to get you ramped up to have hot heated sex. Where he would remind you you were the only one he loved and was sleeping with.

This was an underlying “game” of the relationship, one you both fed on. Tommy being possessive of what was his and being silently jealous of men who would be fixated or try to flirt with you, some even right in front of his face. He would use his words to defend you or if you were oblivious, he would give you the silent treatment, which would annoy you to no end. If you started it which on occasion you did, (he could tell), you would enjoy being at his mercy as soon as you walked through the doors him fucking you hard until the early morning hours.

Other times, with other women, who were enamored by him, he would wash those fears away by reminding you, you were the one he would seek in the middle of the night to hold him close to sleep, the only thing on his mind during a long day, and the one he loved.

You started helping him once a week at the company, with the books as you had an eye for crunching numbers and were detail oriented a bit more than a few others in the office. It made some of his work go faster when you were in the office, only handling the legal side of things, not wanting to involve you with the other half that came with it. That didn’t last much longer.

Year and half you were slowly beginning to see more of the other side of the business. You knew he was in the middle of something, when you started to notice him coming home more often in bloody clothing, late mid-morning hours. He would sneak inside quietly as possible, thinking you were asleep, but you weren’t. You’d hear the shower running for a while for him to slip in next to you in bed. One night you would ask, if things were getting bad in his dealings. He would answer truthfully but not about whom he was dealing with. You started finishing up university with a security guard that would escort you wherever you went. He taught you how to shoot a gun which you only encased in your bedside table, for emergency use. You learned to only ask questions when need be and to try to worry less, enough though you both knew it wasn’t possible.

On that unexpected day, everything almost came to a screeching halt. He was in the middle of a battle with Sabini. He told you to make sure you were with security at all times and that he made sure there was someone outside your place at all times. It was in the middle of the night that you heard the scuffle and then a bang, but it was too late as another person came breaking into your bedroom, screaming for you to get out of the bed. You didn’t have time to react before he was shoving a gun in your face, telling you to be quiet, as they rushed out to the getaway car. Your eyes not missing the pool of blood you found your security guard in. They blind folded you and you remained silent the whole way as they made a call to their boss, who organized this whole ordeal, letting him know you were in transport.

When you got to the basement where they were holding you, they tied your legs and arms to a chair. It smelt musky down below and it was loud. They spit on, mocked, and slapped you around, all to send a message. You tried your best to stay calm, knowing Tommy would find you.

“He’s here, get ready.” You heard one of the men say. The next you knew they were moving you to another room, leaving you in the dark. Then there were gunshots firing off and loads of yelling. Then to be met with silence. It felt like forever until you heard that familiar voice again.

“I’m right here (Y/N), I’m right here.” He reassures as he frees your arms and legs from the chair, to then take the blindfold off. You collapse into his arms sobbing, as he carries you to the back seat of his car, making sure you don’t see any of the bloodshed.

When you arrive at his home, you’re in a state of shock and silent. He has the maids begin a bath and after your bath, he has the doctor check you out. The doctor bandages you and gives you something to help you fall asleep.

The next couple of weeks were rough, not only for you but for your relationship. You told Tommy everything that happened when you woke up the next day, while he held you in his arms. Both of you teary together. You stayed at his place for a couple of days, as he made sure to do damage control in the media and town, and clean your apartment back to normal.

During the night you were plagued with nightmares about your security guard and the men roughing you up, with Tommy never actually coming to save you or ending with you dying. A week after the incident you went to the security guard’s funeral. After that, you were beginning to push Tommy away, telling him you needed space.

Your mind trying to make sense of the madness, grappling with those hard questions, while trying to stay on top of your coursework. You didn’t want to see anyone really, even avoiding your own parents for weeks on end. The only place you would willingly go would be to uni and a few counseling sessions, just to get yourself back on track, which did end up helping you.

The only Shelby you spoke to during this time was Ada, periodically. You two were friends from the start and grew even closer due to your relationship with Tommy. She wouldn’t talk about him unless you brought him up, which wasn’t much. You both knew he was just as much a mess as you were, but both dealing with it in different manners. She helped you in a different way of opening up your frustrations, worries, and fears.

Tommy tried his hardest not to be a mess during this time but it was hard. He drove himself harder into his company and would spend his nights drinking. He knew you were okay, as could be, as he still kept tabs on you. For the first month he would leave you voicemails, some sober, some drunk of the inner workings of his mind and heart, but he really did miss you. You listened to them, wanting nothing more than to pick up the phone and call him.

Then the next month, you left him a voicemail, asking him for more time. You knew it wasn’t fair, but you told him at the end of the month, you would give him a final answer. You loved him, missed him, and wanted to see him just as bad.

There was this small voice in your head that was telling you cut your losses, to go your separate ways. You knew you had to make a hard decision and a decision you would have to live with for the rest of your life.

It was on the third month, when you both met again, at a little cafe by the Thames river. When you saw him, it almost felt like it was the first time all over again. You sat down taking in his appearance. He was wearing his glasses and was in casual clothing. He looked good for the most part, expect for the bags under his eyes, knowing you were part of the reason for them.

“Thank you for meeting me here.” You sent a small smile his way, as the waiter arrived with tea and your favorite pastry. Heart warming that he still cared to remember.

“So, what are we doing here (Y/N)?” His voice is cold, as he lights his smoke.

“I.. um, I just wanted to talk, to explain myself, as i’ve made a decision.” You plead, staring into his hard eyes.

“You had these past two months to talk, to explain yourself. Now we’re here having tea waiting for you to share this decision you have come to. So let’s just get on with it eh!” You just sip your tea, not allowing his harshness to roll over you, knowing you slightly deserved it, but also he was masking his hurt on the one person that really did hurt his heart.

“Gosh, Tommy you’re such a dick!” You growl, before continuing. “At the end of the day I still want to be with you. I still love you.” You stare at his face, watching how his demeanor changes. He slightly softens out, but is still a bit in this guardish state.

“Are you sure you know about this? What about if something happens to you again?”

“Yes, I promise. These past two months haven't been easy. I’ve missed you and there wasn’t a day I didn't think about you. I needed to take care of myself and get my mind straight, to really think about if this life that you live is what I wanted. I don’t know what to do with the what if’s, but I know you will do anything to protect me. You saved me, that day.” You reach your hand into his calloused one, missing his touch.

“I know they haven’t been easy. I’m sorry you had to go through all this. I’ve missed you just as much. I know I did save you love. I would do it a thousand times again.” He squeezes your hand gently before going to finish his second cup of tea. The both you sitting in silence enjoying the moment and looking out over the river.

“Okay.” He speaks out of the blue, catching your attention, from the children running around on the sidewalk.

“Okay what, Mr.Shelby.” You tease gently, as he pulls your chair out for you, helping you put on your winter coat and beanie.

“I love you (Y/N). Thank you.” His warm hands cup your soft cheeks, the pads of his thumbs, rubbing tiny circles on the skin under your eyes. His blue eyes gazing lovingly into yours as he seals your lips together, that somehow mends all the broken pieces together in the both of you. This was a chance to move forward. You ended up spending the night at his house, waking up with him by your side in the morning. Things weren’t magically better but were still things to work on, but it was worth it.

Two years in you bought your first house together out in the country in Birmingham. You graduate college yet again with your master’s, getting a full time job in your field. Your job also helps in building connections with the company. The company was on a bit of a slow period, as Tommy was working on new ventures.

After attending a few engagement parties, weddings, baby showers, and listening to yet another marriage conversation you were having with your mum, unintentionally, he knew you were slowly becoming antsy. Even though you tried not to show it, but once in a while would drop subtle hints about the subject. He already knew that morning he woke up after the Thames River day, that he wanted to marry you because he couldn’t think of the thought of you slipping through his fingers again.

He knew it was finally time to ask for your hand in marriage, but first he had to speak with your father, who was still trying to forgive him, from the incident that occurred. Your father had also grown to see him, like a son. Though neither would say or admit it aloud.

155 notes · View notes