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kaylinelizabeth4004 · 8 months

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Heaven is Here

SYNOPSIS: Through many fleeting moments throughout history with a strange woman, Aziraphale and Crowley learn they accidentally trapped a human soul to Earth, stuck to reincarnate forever.

TAGS: Aziraphale x Crowley x Reader, fluff, slight angst, soulmate au (on accident), history, historical settings, no beta we die like men

WORD COUNT : 12,253

A/N: This fic is kind of accidental. I’ve always been more about Aziraphale/Crowley in this fandom than any reader insert, but one day I happened upon a Tumblr fanfic and had an idea. This probably won’t be a regular thing - except I am planning a sequel to this exact fic - but I thought why not. Im still more Aziraphale/Crowley.

55BC—————

"And you love this?" Crowley asked, holding the seafood up to the light as though it would reveal to Aziraphale all the disgusting little details.

"It's delightful!" Aziraphale insisted, showing Crowley how to eat the oyster. "Try it, dearest. You might just enjoy it."

Crowley pursed his lips, not wanting to put whatever the hell this was in his mouth. But Aziraphale was looking at him with those eyes. He didn't know how describe them, and he didn't want to analyze how they made his heart hurt inside his vessel's chest. So he closed his eyes and ate the damned thing.

He put a hand over his mouth to stop the gagging. This Angel's taste was not quite normal if this is what he considered fine dining. He tried to smile politely, to not let him know that it was utter horseshit.

"You don't like it," Aziraphale said with a rather disappointed voice.

"N-No, I don't," Crowley said, and he didn't know why but he was sad to disappoint the angel. He was just trying to be kind after all, it wasn't as though he had properly sinned. But why would a demon feel bad for an angel? That went against his lot's whole thing.

However, Crowley found a wicked part of him that liked pissing off his lot. He'd never put it in as many words however.

"Pity, they are quite delectable."

"Sure, angel," Crowley said, sipping a large mouthful of wine. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, eating and drinking as they'd like. Then Crowley looked up to Aziraphale's soft "ahem." He was pointing behind Crowley, and when he turned he saw what caused it.

A young woman was sat in the corner, a large glass of wine in her hands, and she was weeping to herself. It wasn't loud or particularly noticeable, if it wasn't for the tear tracks down her cheeks, glittering as they caught the light. She was looking at her lap and sipping the wine, balking at the taste yet coming back for more.

"She looks happy," Crowley said.

"She looks sad! You demons need to learn the proper emotions."

Crowley stared at Aziraphale for a moment, wondering if he was joking. Upon realizing that Aziraphale was, in fact, not joking Crowley said, "that was sarcasm, Angel."

"What was sarcasm?"

"My comment, 'she looks happy.' Of course she doesn't look happy that's why I said it."

Aziraphale furrowed his brows, "but your words meant the opposite of what you said."

"Exactly," Crowley said. And with a flourish he added, "it's called sarcasm."

"But why say something you don't mean? Isn't that lying?" Aziraphale asked, in all sincerity.

Crowley thought it over, "s'pose it could be seen that way. Most people view it as ironic."

"Oh, yes, of course." Aziraphale took an anxious sip of wine, looking back towards the girl.

"Angel..."

"Yes?" He was avoiding eye contact

"You don't know what ironic means, do you?"

Aziraphale pouted, "no I don't and I quite detest that you do."

"Ironic literally means saying the opposite of what you mean for some sort of point. Mine being that she looks downright miserable."

"Even though you said she looks happy." Aziraphale said slowly as he tracked that line of logic through his head.

"Right, even though I said she looks happy."

"And that's ironic?"

"Don't ya think?" Crowley said with a wide smile, his teeth appearing almost like he had pointed fangs.

"Why yes I do think-"

"Angel, that was irony."

"Oh." Aziraphale blinked rapidly a few times then sipped his wine, embarrassed he didn't know something that Crowley did know. He thought he was the knowledgeable of the two. "Well, sarcasm or not, we should help her."

"We?"

"Why - yes, we're both here and we see -"

"I don't help people," Crowley said quickly, his voice deep and harsh. "I'm a demon, I do the opposite of help."

"Well, yes but-"

"There are no buts with this. My lot were created to ruin your lots pickings. I pillage and plunder, that's my job." Crowley said this firmly as though it would make his point clearer. The more intense he was, the more his words seemed to slur together a bit.

Aziraphale paused for a moment, and Crowley wondered if he was about argue his point once more. "Isn't the phrase rape, pillage and plunder?"

"I don't do that. I'm not a monster," Crowley balked. He finished his wine and set the glass down. Throwing some money on the table he said, "sorry Angel. Got a priest to tempt. Catch you later."

"Oh, goodbye." Aziraphale said as Crowley ambled off through the restaurants doors. But despite himself, Aziraphale found himself smiling. Crowley wasn't truly all bad, even if he thought himself it. His gaze at the doors quickly moved over to the pretty girl weeping. She was still crying and her glass was a lot emptied.

Aziraphale got up, straightened his toga, and walked over to the girl. "Oh, um, hello. I'm -" oh shoot, he hadn't thought of this part yet. He had to quickly think of a name. Instantly his eyes shot up to the art above her, a fleece. Aha! "Jason. My name is Jason. Pardon the intrusion, but I couldn't help but notice you're upset."

She sniffled, setting the glass down on the table. Aziraphale was struck by her face, now that he could see it not turned down and hidden. She was pretty. She eyed him warily, "Yeah, what's it to you?"

Aziraphale sat down on the chair opposite her, "I wondered if I might be able to help."

She laughed bitterly, "only if you can stop the Emperor." Aziraphale's eyebrows raised at that and she rushed to cover for herself, "oh no, I didn't mean that. All Hail the Caesar and what not. He's doing a mighty fine job."

"It's certainly not a 'mighty fine job' if he's got you crying as such."

"No, I s'pose not."

"What can I do for you?"

"Nothing," she said honestly, wiping the tears away quickly. "Honestly, Jason, I appreciate the thought but what's done is done. You can't change the past."

Aziraphale made a face in slight disagreement, though he knew he couldn't explain that to a human female. "Then perhaps telling someone will make you feel better. I harbor no connection with the Emperor, your opinions are quite safe with me."

She stared up at him after he said this, looking him truly in the eyes as though they told her all she needed to know. Then she did speak. "It's this invasion on Britain. My father and brother were both sent off and I worry. I've heard horrible things about the natives, truly barbaric things like removing of one's head. I don't want them to be hurt. Especially my brother, he's so sweet. He could get hurt by the army rather the natives."

"Hurt by his own army?"

"He doesn't stand up for himself. And that lot can be harsh. I s'pose I shouldn't blame them, I'd be harsh too if I had to kill people in battle. But I worry they will pick on him, push him 'round to try and get him to fight, and he won't."

"Ah, I see," Aziraphale said, rolling his tongue in his mouth as he thought it over. "Well, I can assure you one thing. The natives are not unnecessarily cruel. They do fight, but only when they need to. You couldn't expect anything less, dear."

She nodded, biting her lip. "No, you're correct. I'd defend my country against invaders as well."

"But they won't torture. Your brother will be quite alright, I'm sure of it."

After a minute of silence she looked up again at Aziraphale, "Thank you, Jason. Strangely enough, that makes me feel better. Knowing it wouldn't be torture."

"No, it wouldn't be."

"I really should be going, my daughter will be expecting me."

"Right, of course. Blessings on you, my dear." And though he'd already said the blessing, he felt compelled to say it again. To strengthen it for this poor soul. "Blessings on you forever."

Aziraphale helped her out of her seat. Just then, for an imperceivable second, Aziraphale thought he saw a golden shine cross her eyes. He didn't think much of it, figured it was the miracle. He'd never seen that happen, but he wasn't often looking in their eyes.

She took his hand, kissed the back of it, and thanked him again before walking out. Aziraphale smiled contentedly, though he felt a pull in his heart he hadn't felt before. Urging him to follow her, but he figured it was some sort of indigestion.

Crowley was sprawled on a bench not far from the restaurant, glancing up at a night time sky he couldn't see. He wanted to see it, but he gave up on that dream 2,000 years ago. The Fall took many things, and his eyesight was one of them. He could still see in general, he knew what people's faces looked like and where he was going. But specifics were lost on him, and the night looked like eternal darkness rather than the sparkling stars and planets he'd been told about.

"I helped create some of those," he mumbled to himself.

Then he closed his eyes, needing to not look at what he couldn't see. It still hurt, as though the wound wasn't thousands of years old. But it never properly healed in the first place.

He felt a weight against his foot and heard a thud within a matter of seconds, and he blinked in surprise. At his feet, a young woman was crumpled to the ground. His foot was sticking out in the pathway. Whoops.

He thought about rising to help her, then thought better of it. Beelzebub didn't need another reason to hate him. So he sat still and watched the woman get onto her hands and knees, glaring at him.

"Not going to help are you?"

"No, I think I'm keen to just watch," Crowley responded. She rolled her eyes, getting onto her feet and dusting off her toga. He examined her quickly, not knowing what to make of her. Then, she said something entirely unexpected.

"Keep your foot out of the way, asshole."

It wasn't a particularly inspired remark, nothing witty or threatening. But it was the fact that a random woman said that to him, a demon, without prompting. And with that remark, she walked away.

"Damnation on you eternally," Crowley murmured, waving his hand in a flourish towards the woman. He doesn't know why he said it, he's never really said it like that before and he certainly didn't why he even added the 'eternally' bit. But whatever the reason, he said it.

Though he knew she was too far away to hear him, she turned and looked back. And found a brief moment, maybe it was the trick of the light, he saw a golden shine pass over her eyes. She smirked shyly, then turned and walked away. And with each step, Crowley felt his heart pulse in a way he hadn't felt before.

1377—————

There was complete silence in the cathedral as a young boy, only aged 10 and dressed in trousers, walked through the crowd towards the priest. They seemed to hold their breaths as he lay on the floor before God, surrendering himself to Her mercy. Aziraphale watched the coronation. He had mixed feelings about the child, Richard. He wasn't a particular fan of the whole 'king' concept, but he thought the honoring to God bit was a nice touch. He wore simple enough clothes to note stand out, yet nice to enough to be recognized as a noble. His layers were in varying degrees of beige as he hid in the very middle of the crowd.

After the 10 minutes on the floor, Richard rose and made his way to the priest where he was being dressed in oil.

"Bit like a salad, eh?" A sultry, baritone voice said from beside Aziraphale, making him shudder. When he looked, it was Crowley. Dressed in similarly simple noble clothes, of course in tones of black and red, he watched the young king as different body parts were coated in oil for different purposes.

"Crowley? How did you get in here? It's a church?" Aziraphale said in a hushed whisper, earning glares from the people beside him. "Sorry Lord Wellington."

"Churches are built by humans."

"And what does that have to do with anything? You're still a demon in a place of worship for God," he said the word 'demon' especially softly for fear someone would turn in a panic at the word 'demon' being said in a cathedral.

"Yeah but it wasn't made by God. It was made for Her, by humans. Totally human structure."

"It is not."

Crowley shrugged his shoulders, "you got a better reason I can come and go in these?"

Aziraphale pursed his lips, "I suppose not."

A loud smack echoed through the church and Crowley frowned, "you made me miss the slap, Angel."

"That is your concern?"

Crowley shook his head in frustration, "He's a bloody king now, last time he coulda gotten hit and it's by a priest. S'course I wanted to see it."

"He's a child."

"Not anymore. He's got too much to think about now to be a child."

"No," Aziraphale wondered. "I suppose he's not longer a child at all. You know, dearest, you really do have the grandest thoughts when you think about it."

"Shut up," Crowley replied, his cheeks turning rosy at the compliment.

Within seconds of him saying it, the priest placed the crown on top of boy's head and declared loudly, "Long Live King Richard II!"

The crowd burst into applause as the young king was carried through the cathedral. They whooped and hollered, crying "all hail" and "god save the king" as he passed them by. The boy looked cheerful, pink cheeks and bright curls waving underneath a crown that looked awful heavy for a boy his age. But no, Aziraphale thought, perhaps this was the end of his childhood after all.

"Are you attending the feast afterwards? I hear they will serve beef, and I haven't have beef in decades!"

"Ahh, well I don't know, Angel."

Aziraphale smiled, leaning in as though he was sharing a conspiratorial secret, "I hear there are miraculously two spots for a Lord Fell and Mr Fell, if you are so inclined."

Crowley's eyebrows shot up, eyes hidden beneath his favorite pair of sunglasses, "oh you devil!"

Aziraphale's smile dropped, "don't you say that."

There was a pause as Aziraphale processed the hurtful words, and Crowley processed that he actually cared to make it right to him. Then all at once, they both started speaking on the issue, words overlapping in a frightful mess.

Crowley sighed, "Right I'm sorry -"

"- that really hurts -"

"- I know, I know -"

"- I mean, I am most certainly not fallen -"

"-we had this conversation in 1066 -"

" - I did not appreciate that."

" -I know, Angel. I'm sorry."

After that final note, Aziraphale nodded. "Alright, well. Thank you."

They started to walk together towards the banquet hall not far from there, waiting to indulge in fine wines and beef. There was a large parade towards it, all the nobles and even those fortunate peasants engaged in laughing and singing. Jesters performed stupid dances in their funny hats, knights marched in perfect unison, and songs came pouring from every lute and voice in the area. It was a perfect celebration of a new king, all on their way to fall victim to gluttony, drunkenness, lust, greed and infinitely more temptations.

All things that should fill Crowley's heart with a miserable sort of glee. And yet... he felt off. Crowley couldn't explain the feeling in his chest, almost like a nagging telling him things weren't right. But all this temptation, he thought. This ought to be perfect! But it wasn't, and he had a feeling before he even glanced at his Angel that it was because of him.

Sure enough, he was right. Though Aziraphale hadn't said anything, being kind enough to accept Crowley's words at face value and dropping it, but Crowley knew him well enough to know something was wrong. He hadn't made it up to him.

"Angel, a word -" Crowley said, grabbing Aziraphale's elbow and leading him away from the crowd. As he did so, he missed the way Aziraphale's mouth dropped open, blue eyes fixated on the contact. They'd rarely touched before.

"Yes, Crowley?" Aziraphale asked politely but his tone was full of too much passive aggression to really be polite. He stood stock still, arms poised in front of him and looked expectedly at Crowley.

"I- I, I need to..." Satan this was hard. The words felt like glue in Crowley's mouth but he did his best to force them out. "I need to, to s'make it up to you."

"Pardon?"

Oh damn Aziraphale, making Crowley actually communicate. "What I said, I was wrong. You were right. It wasn't right of me and I need to make it because my apology isn't enough."

"I never said that."

"Ah, yeah, you never said it. But you's do this thing with your face when you's upset. And my words aren't getting there. Just tell me what I can do to make it up to you."

They waited a moment, staring at one another. Suddenly, a large crash came from parade and the two looked over in surprise. The musicians were playing a long, one very eager man slamming the cymbals that caused such a loud sound. Behind them another jester bobbled along a delicate little dance, flourishing his arms on either side before turning and doing a bow.

Crowley saw Aziraphale's eyebrows raise, the corner of his cute little mouth twitch up and a finger pointed towards the little dance. He ran to stop it, saying, "no, no, no, I'm not doing that."

"Come now-"

"A dance? You want an 'I was wrong, You were right dance'? You can't be serious, Angel."

"I am serious, you wily serpent. Now do the little dance or I'll never forgive you," Aziraphale said in mock frustration, puffing out his chest.

Crowley saw before him a choice, between what his lot were bound to and Aziraphale. And without a second thought, he chose Aziraphale. He would choose Aziraphale every time, he just didn't know it yet. And so, despite all the humiliation he knew this would cause him if the bosses down under ever found out, Crowley did the little dance.

Aziraphale watched, eyebrows raised in shock. He hadn't thought Crowley would do it. Certainly not for him. But as Crowley bowed, enunciating his t's with a flourish, he couldn't help but smile.

"Very nice."

"Are we good, now?"

Aziraphale beamed, "quite right, dearest. We are quite right."

Crowley let out a breath, adjusting his glasses as though they would hide that dance from history's books. "Well then, let's get a move on."

The pair followed the parade into the banquet hall, and continued with the affair. Aziraphale literally wiggled in his seat when the food was placed before him, so excited he couldn't sit still. Crowley drank the wine, actually quite good for English wine.

Then the dancing started. King Richard - now Richard II - climbed on top of the table and proclaimed everyone to dance. And so, the nobles in their fancy gowns, drunk and laughing to no end, jumped from their seats to join in the dance. Aziraphale sat still for a moment, not knowing what he should do. Angels don't dance, not really. But this Angel longed to dance.

Crowley saw the way his fingers tapped along the table to the beat. He groaned, getting up from his seat.

"S'alright Angel, up up."

"Pardon -"

"You heard what I said. Come on Angel, let's dance."

Aziraphale giggled and got up, following Crowley into the chaos of swirling dresses and flirtatious looks between anyone and everyone. Almost immediately they were separated, swung by different partners.

Crowley danced with an older woman who squeezed his buttocks when she thought he wasn't looking. He wasn't fond of dancing, not the way Aziraphale was, but he enjoyed the freedom of it all. There were no rules, not really. Yes some people liked the structured ones where you pose and turn on every 3rd beat or what not. But in dancing there was an air of just living - being truly alive. That's what it was all about, it's all anyone yearned to feel.

In the next turn to switch partners, time seemed to slow for Crowley. He saw her, flitting between the people to slide her arm into Crowley's and continue the dance. She was pretty in an unconventional way. A way society might not call beautiful, but made Crowley stop and stare. He was pulled towards her, as though he couldn't control it. She was the center of his focus and he wanted nothing more than to meet her. Then, she turned that pretty gaze on him. Her lips quirked into a smile, hands warm and soft as they held his tightly. Her skin was flushed from the dance, and her dress swung around her in bright, dashing colors. The last dance had ended and all the people were gasping for air yet still ready to dive into the next.

"Hello," she said softly, though somehow he heard her voice over the crowd.

"Hello," Crowley answered back, not sure what to do. He'd never been in this position before.

"A dance?" She asked, taking a deep bow before holding her hand out. Palm up. She wore one, golden signet ring.

"I'd love to," Crowley answered honestly, taking her hand and pulling her into him.

She giggled happily, throwing an arm around his neck as he led the pair towards the center of the dance floor. He started to laugh along with her. Their dancing wasn't particularly good, both of them knew that, but they were having fun. She would twirl away only to twirl back into him awkwardly, laughing so hard she snorted which only caused a barking laughter from Crowley. They continued forward, holding each other close until the final pull drew them chest to chest. She was shorter than he, and she glanced up through dark lashes.

"Hi," she murmured, her breath hitting Crowley's face. She smelled of wine and temptation. He looked into her eyes and there it was - that one moment in history he thought was a fluke.

It had been 1,432 years, not like he was counting, but he didn't forget the way the golden band seemed to fleet over her eyes back in 55BC. And now, he saw that same golden shine slide over the same pair of eyes. It was just a second and yet it made Crowley's mouth drop. She saw it too, but for different reasons. He watched as she looked at his lips, he could tell what she was thinking.

She went to lean in, breasts pressed against his chest and breath hot, but was ripped away by the next dance. She giggled wildly as she was pulled into a circle, but found herself glancing over her shoulder to stare at the handsome stranger she almost kissed.

As Crowley stood in the middle of the floor, mystified, Aziraphale went over to his table to get a drink. All this dancing was positively amazing, but it certainly drained one of their energy.

As he brought the cup to his lips, a body crashed into his, sending the crimson liquid all over his clothes.

"Oh, bugger," he said, setting the cup down to assess the damage.

"I am so sorry, sir!" A girl said, breathless as she ran over. "That was entirely my fault. Please, let me help you clean it. I'm sure there's a tub not far."

Aziraphale smiled politely and went to decline the kind offer, but when he looked into her eyes he found himself agreeing to go with her. She lit up with excitement, grabbing his hand and pulling him away. There was something about her, something he couldn't explain. But he was in awe of her movements and eager to learn more about her.

She turned into an empty hall near a bathroom. She had him wait here while she collected a basin of water and grease.

"I can't promise it will fully work," she said as she set it down, "but I'll do my best. I really am so sorry, sir. I would have never ruined your clothes intentionally."

"It's quite alright. They weren't my favorite anyway," he said as he removed the outer layer. His multiple layers undergarments were fine, and could suffer slight staining. It was the outer garment that changed the most.

She shook her head as she dunked it in the basin, "you can't mean that, sir."

"I find that I quite do," he said, watching her with a quite awe.

"What's your name, sir? I feel I've seen you before," she said, suddenly watching him with the same astute attention. She kept narrowing her eyes as though she'd remember.

Maybe it was the stain, the wine, the party, the demon nearby, or maybe it was just this woman that did it to him but without realizing, he answered honestly, "Aziraphale."

Her eyes lit up, "like the Angel?"

"Precisely, my dear."

"That's a beautiful name. Aziraphale, Aziraphale... can you believe it?" She mumbled the last bit to herself, rubbing liberal amounts of grease into the fabric.

"Do you have a connection to the name? Or the Angel, perhaps?" Aziraphale asked curiously, wanting to hear more about her.

"I do, strangely enough. It's a silly connection..." she said, absentmindedly turning the signet ring over and over on her hand.

"I rather find that when it comes to angels and demons, nothing is silly." Aziraphale chose to neglect some of the more strange decisions the staff had made.

"I, well, oh goodness it sounds all made up. Well, I was in the shops the other day. My friend makes jewelry and he's very good. I came by and he said a man dropped off this gold signet ring with the name Aziraphale burned into it. Said he didn't know what to do with it, not many people knows the Angel, and he gave it to me." She took the ring off her finger, staring at it with an admiration before holding it out to him. "It's your name. You should have it."

"Oh I couldn't possibly take from you, dear."

She shook her head, "no it's not taking. It's a gift. It's fate, that I should have a ring for an Aziraphale just before meeting one of my very own."

"Oh dear, I couldn't -"

She interrupted him by pressing a soft kiss to the ring, taking his hand and sliding it onto his pinky finger. When she looked up, still holding his hand, Aziraphale's jaw dropped. That golden shine. Where had he seen that before? It was brief, flashing over a pair of kind eyes, but it was there all the same.

"Please accept this, Aziraphale."

"I - I will. Thank you, my dear."

Neither Crowley nor Aziraphale saw her after that night. They didn't know her name, her status, or even really remember her outfit. If Cinderella was around, she would have been the prime candidate for it. Neither told each other about their experience with a strange woman until 150 years later as they talked about Henry VIII's decision to have Anne Boleyn beheaded. Nasty business that was.

1601—————

"He's really quite good," Aziraphale said, watching fondly as the actor of Hamlet lamented about life and death. It really was moving the way he toyed between truly living a life, or if death was not truly what life was about.

Aziraphale found himself doing that 'excited sigh' that Crowley described. He found it an odd way of saying his behaviors, but Crowley insisted that when Aziraphale was excited it wasn't a 'satisfied sigh' but an 'excited sigh.' To be fair, he'd said this after 2 whole bottles of wine and a shot of pure vodka, so Aziraphale couldn't grant its true authenticity. A drunk demon would truly say anything just to illicit a reaction.

The speech made him wonder what it was like to be a human, with no certainty about what happens with their souls. They don't have a guarantee about life, or death, and yet are expected to do as they are told with no questions. Crowley knew what it was like to ask questions, and it lead to scars even Aziraphale didn't know about.

"Ngk, s'pose so." Crowley grumbled, watching as the man stamped his foot on the stage. "Bit dramatic, no?"

"It'd a tragedy!" Aziraphale countered, furrowing his brows in surprise.

"Eh, I still prefer the funny ones."

Aziraphale shook his head, turning to watch the man on the stage. A flash of purple fabric caught his eye, and his gaze traveled to see a young woman peaking out from behind the railing. She was trying to stay hidden, but Aziraphale could see that she just couldn't resist the temptation to watch the rehearsal. Her eyes were bright and wide, soaking in the sight. Her clothes were dirty and well worn, a few sizes too big and the hem covered in a layer of mud. But despite it all, she looked entirely unique.

She was pretty, and Aziraphale didn't often feel as though many humans were pretty. He appreciated the art of humanity, and believed each human was their own work of art. But he didn't feel a pull to any of them, but her... she had an attraction to her. He could see her lean too far over the edge, as though the stage were dragging her in. It wasn't just a love and an admiration, it was an addiction. Aziraphale could see what was going to happen moments before it did, but it was too late. The girl tumbled over the edge and fell onto the floor of the Globe, catching the attention of everybody in the rehearsal space.

Her cheeks immediately blotted pink, covering her face in a rosy hue as the stage manager came to her with a snarl, "oi, who're you?"

"I-I-"

"You's not supposed to be 'ere," he said, grabbing her roughly by the arm and dragging her to her feet. She stumbled along as he pulled her to the entrance. "Out with you."

"Mary? Whatcha doin here?" Crowley called out, sauntering over to the man and the girl. The man stopped, looking at Crowley with a skeptical gaze. The girl's eyes widened, bright and eager, as she realized what Crowley was doing and she nodded vigorously.

"Yes, sir, I came to fetch you! Mistress Paulson requested you." She said quickly, trying to stand on her own despite the stage manager's tight grasp.

The man cocked an eyebrow, "oh yeah? You know's him?"

"Know me? Know me?" Crowley sauntered over with a cackle, "me's and Mary goes way back."

She nodded, ripping her arm from the man's grasp then standing politely. "Oh yes, Mr..."

"Oh don't bother with all the Mr Crowley Miss whatever business, just call me Anthony like any other bloke."

"Anthony has helped my sister much. He's an excellent doctor," she said, standing firm. Aziraphale watched her in awe, he was impressed. She picked up that Crowley was saving her quickly, easing into the lie with an expert comfort. She seemed familiar, as though they'd met her before. And most importantly, she was intelligent.

"Doctor? You didn't mention that about your friend," the man said to Aziraphale, his enunciation so poor he practically spat the words at Aziraphale's feet.

Aziraphale flashed a charming smile, "I hadn't realized that those particular skills would, uh, come up in a theatre of this, err,... caliber."

"I haven't the pleasure of meeting you, sir." The girl piped up, her smile was warm and gentle. But he could see in her eyes a tension, wanting to convince this man to not throw her out or worse - press charges. "My's names Mary Edwins. Friend of Mr Crowley."

Mary Edwins, clearly a fake name. Just basic enough to be believable, but enough slight hesitation that Aziraphale knew she was lying. She gave a little curtesy, spreading the oversized purple skirt over the floor. It really was too large, but she still looked charming. Aziraphale felt as though he'd seen that curtesy before. There it was, fast you could have blamed the lighting, Aziraphale knew better. There that same golden shine came over her eyes, if just for a moment. His mouth fell open in a little 'o,' unable to speak for a while 10 seconds before stuttering out, "oh, h-hello Miss Edwins, I'm Mr Fell."

The stage manager thought on it for a moment, before deciding that he wasn't paid enough to care. It was hours away from opening night, after all, and the little boy playing Ophelia needed alterations in his costume.

"Alright then," he said, walking back towards the director, a Mr William Shakespeare.

The girl was still a few feet away as Crowley walked dramatically back towards Aziraphale. The Angel tried to ignore it. He hadn't mentioned that part of it with Crowley, and he didn't know how to continue. Crowley mistook Aziraphale's expression as one of angelic smugness and rose a finger, "shut it, Angel."

"That was a good thing you did," he said with a little smile. He pushed it to the back of his mind, something to worry about when it was late and the city was asleep.

"Twasn't good, no. I was, real, I - I - I was bad. I let a criminal get away."

Aziraphale patted Crowley's shoulder, "no, dearest. You let a woman enjoy her passion. Look at her, you've saved her."

The pair glanced over at her as she tried, and failed, to subtly watch the actors get ready for their next scene. Her hand was on her heart, as though if she didn't put it there her heart would pop right out.

"Ehhh, that's not saving. Not really."

"Oh, it's not? Then what would you say is a human's purpose?" Aziraphale asked with a soft voice.

"I thought that's your job, Angel. Praising God and what not."

Aziraphale pursed his lips, looking away from Crowley. "You know as well as I that love of God is not all humans were made for. I am of the firm opinion they are here for their passions. They survive by it. They might be able to live with food and water alone, but no soul could truly exist without their drive. And this woman, her passion is theatre."

"Rather blasphemous words from an Angel."

"Rather kind actions from a demon."

Aziraphale smiled, looking towards the stage. Crowley tried to hide the blush on his ears and cheeks. It was always his ears that turned bright red from, from, well he didn't quite know from what. But he felt the heat and looked away. He looked at the girl, who perked your once she realized he saw her. She went over shyly.

Despite her apprehension, she raised her voice enough to say, "thank you for your help, Mr Crowley and Mr Fell."

"Mmm," was Crowley reply, gazing around the globe with a distinguished air about him. As if he was the most important person in the room. He tried to ignore her presence. She had a pull to her and he couldn't explain it, didn't want to address it. He already had the issue of a certain Angel who wouldn't leave his mind.

"Who are we to stop the love of the arts?" Aziraphale said, rather eccentrically. "Though you could have waited a few hours to see the whole show."

"I can't afford it," she said quietly, staring at her feet. Aziraphale noted her sweet little boots, their pointed ends digging into the dirt out of anxiety. "My mistress only gave me the morning. I need to be back in an hour."

Crowley and Aziraphale shot a glance with one another, not quite knowing how to respond. They stood in silence, the girl's eyes wide as she drank in Ophelia's mad lullabies.

"What's your name?"

"Mary Edwins."

Crowley smiled, "nice try, love. Your real name."

She cocked an eyebrow, glancing up at first at Crowley, then at Aziraphale, before looking back at her reflection in his sunglasses. "Why do you want to know?"

"We did help you, dear. We'd just love to know you, but if you cannot tell us, we won't rush you."

"Are you two a couple?" She asked quickly, pointing at the two and waving her hands in some strange, gesture of coupling. Her choice of question was so drastic, they didn't bother to notice the intentional diversion in topics.

Aziraphale looked up, mouth dropping in a little 'o' and he looked at Crowley. Crowley lifted a brow. Aziraphale answered, "We've known each other for a long time."

"That doesn't answer my question, Mr Fell."

"Aren't you a sly one, Miss Edwins." Crowley sneered, his top lip recoiling.

She just smiled, shrugging her shoulders with a little giggle. "Suppose so, Mr Crowley."

The golden shine. Crowley sucked in a harsh breath as she turned to look back at the stage. He could practically hear all his thoughts as they raced through his head, and he was unable to settle on just one. Those eyes. He hadn't seen them in years and yet this was the third woman who just happened to flirt with him, and had a gold shine go across her eyes. He reckoned she didn't know it happened, she probably didn't know what those little eyes could do to an immortal creature. Crowley swallowed, praying she never had to.

Then, the show continued and 'Mary's' eyes seemed transfixed. Aziraphale loved the theatre, Crowley enjoyed it, but 'Mary' adored it.

Crowley watched her eagerly, partly out of curiosity and partly because he liked feeling her passion in his soul as though it was her own. He found himself attracted to it, a drag of one's purpose. The passion filled her up, and she seemed to want to lean into it. She gasped as Hamlet killed his mother, she listened with eager ears as he instructed the actors on how they were to act, she cried as it seemed that everyone fell to the floor in a miserable death. Then, it was over. Actors stumbled to their feet, laughing as though they weren't stabbed with poisoned rapiers. The story was over, but 'Mary' seemed to be in a daze. Crowley watched with shrewd, yet eager eyes as she came out of it.

Then she straightened her back, smiling tightly to both of them. "Mr Fell, Mr Crowley, thank you for letting me stay. It has been such a gift. I'm afraid I must go."

"Let us escort you home," Aziraphale said, without realizing what he was offering.

She blinked wide eyes, "there's no need, sir. It's two blocks away."

Crowley lifted his chin, "love, we'd like to see you off safe."

"If you insist. Though I must tell you it's entirely through the city. Eyes will be on you at all times," she said it as a threat, a reminder to not do anything unsavory. Crowley almost frowned at that little bit of false hope. If they actually had bad intentions, a crowd wouldn't stop anything. She wasn't truly safe. But both Crowley and Aziraphale nodded, as though they truly headed her warning.

"Was that your first Shakespeare production?" Aziraphale asked, making polite conversation as he walked on one side of her, Crowley on the other.

"Oh, no. I do my best to attend all of them. I tend to prefer the funny ones, but the crowds can be a bit much for me."

"Eh? What'd you mean by that?" Crowley asked.

She blushed, "I don't like when crowds get very loud. They tend to jeer and toss things at the actors. It doesn't feel safe for anyone. I do enjoy his dramas though."

They walked in companionable silence for a moment before she asked the next question, "what do you two do? If I may, you're dressed rather odd."

"Odd?" Crowley asked with a frown, gazing down at his outfit. He was quite proud of this outfit. The ruff was amazing, really helped one feel confident.

'Mary' giggled. "I don't dislike your outfits, you just don't see these colors often."

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a glance, shifting in their outfits. Perhaps they do cling to their colors a bit much. But Aziraphale never felt it was a problem, he was proud of his wardrobe.

"I make my own clothes," Aziraphale said with a smile.

'Mary' lightened up, her eyes taking on a bright, sparkling quality before she actually smiled, a little tell that Aziraphale noticed. He'd seen that before, but couldn't place it. "That is quite wonderful, Mr Fell. I'd love to make my own, however I mostly sew for my mistress."

"You make her clothes?"

"Oh no, I tend to mend them."

The conversation lulled again, and Crowley bit his lip as he thought before asking the question that has been on his tongue since the play ended, "why do you love theatre so much?"

Her chest flared, her eyes wide and sparkling, and she could barely contain the words before they poured from her in excited spurts, "what's not to love? It's stories about being human wrapped up in fancy costumes and dramatic voices. It's full of stories that seem so outrageous yet we still find our way to connect. Isn't it just fascinating that you could watch a show about a man, driven mad by jealousy caused by a deceiving friend, murdering his wife and leave full of emotions? You'd think you'd be mad at the murderer, condemning him for killing his love. And yet, there's more to it than that. You can't quite hate Othello, but you can't love him either. It's so hard to explain what it is to be human, there's no word or sentence to explain it. It can be so isolating. But these stories can give us insight. I, sorry, I'm rambling," she said, taking a wistful sigh.

"Stories can be found anywhere, dear. Books, especially," Aziraphale noted. He enjoyed hearing her speak with such fire. In the back of his mind, he felt as though he could recall someone else talking about their love of stories, but he couldn't place it.

She nodded, smiling. "Yes, of course. And I adore books too. It's just... theatre is such a temporary art. Those moments on stage, or watching, could never be recreated, it could never be exactly as it was. And that's what made it so beautifully tragic. You are stuck with a slightly different story each night, with different takeaways."

"What a beautiful takeaway," Aziraphale said, watching her with a slight sort of awe.

She blushed, "I'm hardly unique in that way."

"Ngk," Crowley mumbled in disagreement, though he didn't actually say a word. Yet, she seemed to still understand what he was trying to say and blushed all the same.

As they walked, Crowley took off his sunglasses for a moment to wipe his eyes. He seemed to forget that his were unusual, yellow and with a snake like slit as a pupil.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

"M'yeah," Crowley answered, opening his eyes to look at her. After the initial realization he was seeing her without glasses, thus revealing the snake like eyes, he went to shove the sunglasses back on. But she wasn't looking unkindly at him.

Instead, she smiled widely, "they're beautiful."

"Wot?" He said in shock.

"Your eyes are beautiful, Mr Crowley." Then, as Crowley sputtered in surprise, she stopped in front of an expensive flat. "This is me mistress's. Thank you, Mr Crowley and Mr Fell."

She looked both of them in the eyes as she said their names, and with equal kindness and appreciation. Then, she turned away and scampered around towards the servants entrance. Aziraphale waited until she was inside to blow out a breath.

"She was something," Crowley said.

"Yes, she was."

"I- angel, I could be wrong on this but didn't she feel-"

"Familiar?" Aziraphale finished for Crowley, looking down the alley as though she would magically reappear.

"Yes! It's so bloody weird," Crowley said, rubbing his hand along his jaw.

"Yes, weird," Aziraphale said, enunciating weird in an odd way that made Crowley furrow his brows. The two beings tried to shrug off this encounter, heading their separate ways for the time being.

1865—————

Aziraphale stared at Crowley as though he'd never seen him before, utterly gobsmacked. "I will not provide you that, that thing! It's suicide."

"Aw not for that Angel," Crowley groaned, waving his hand nonchalantly as though he hadn't asked for the one thing that would completely kill him. "Just for, err you know, protection."

"You are a demon, Crowley. The world would need protection from you."

Crowley tried to not let that sting. He'd never said as much to Aziraphale, but these last 200 years have really brought some perspective over what it is to be a demon. He found a weird sense of discomfort over the word demon. As though he were entirely bad because of what he was, and not what he does. But he'd never say it, or tell Aziraphale he accidentally rhymed.

"It's not like that, I just want to secure myself. That's all."

Aziraphale pursed his lips and looked away, not bearing the thought that his closest acquaintance would dare to think of something like that. It was simply not going to happen, Aziraphale refused to let that happen. Crowley was going to live forever, with Aziraphale, and he was going to do so happily. He'd never tell Crowley, of course, but Aziraphale didn't know if he could manage eternity without him.

"Oi! That can't have that!" Crowley said quickly, throwing himself off the bench and facing towards a woman standing by the river.

She turned to look at the, in her view, random man dressed in mourning garb barreling towards her and shouting in a thick accent. She clutched the loaf of bread close to her chest, eyeing him warily as he continued rambling.

"Bread's not good for 'em, it can - can - can cause diseases," he said once he got close to her.

She sucked in a breath. He was taller than he'd looked from afar, and she found herself staring at him. He was also quite handsome, with tanned skin and shocking bright red hair, curled away from his face. She noticed a pair of odd looking spectacles hiding his eyes, and a tattoo peaking out beneath his sideburns.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," she said breathlessly. She felt kind of stupid now, holding a loaf of bread as he stared at her with a passion for the ducks. A man dressed in all beige apparel came by quickly, standing by the other man's side. He looked kind, with bright blue eyes and plush pink lips she didn't even realize she'd taken note of.

"I'm terribly sorry for my friend's outburst," Aziraphale said to the woman, still looking shellshocked. "Though I'm afraid he is right, bread is not the best for them."

She looked down and stared at it. "Right, well I apologize. I hadn't been doing it long, if it's of any comfort."

Crowley grumbled but didn't say anything else, eyeing her with skepticism. After a pause where the three stood in silence, the woman tore the loaf into three sections. She then offered up a piece to each of the men, "better we eat it than them?"

Crowley and Aziraphale exchanged a glance, they hadn't expected this. Maybe it was the mood of St James's Park or the pull of this young girl, but they reached out to accept their proffered piece.

Just then a golden shine passed over her eyes. Both men's jaws dropped as they'd never shared of this particular detail of their stories, and had never experienced it together. And, for the first time, she seemed conscious of it too.

A hand went up to her cheeks just below her eyes, which had grown wide in surprise. "What was that?"

"Pardon?" Aziraphale asked in that slightly tense voice he had when he was covering up for something.

"The, my, my eyes. I was looking and then it went all - gold like."

"Oh I don't know about that," Aziraphale said.

She shook her head vehemently, pointing at the both of them. "Yours did too, and yours!"

"You saw our eyes shine gold?" Crowley asked shyly.

"Y-yes. I saw through your spectacles. The whole eye, it went gold -"

"It must have been a trick of the light, dearest. Eyes don't 'go gold.'"

She shook her head again, "no. I know what I saw. I, I think I'd better go. Thank you for the, the, the ducks."

"Wait-" "Don't go-" Aziraphale and Crowley started at the same time, but she'd already lifted her skirts so she could walk away as quickly as possible.

"She saw it this time," Crowley said, mouth open in surprise.

"This time? This time? You've had a girls eyes shine gold before?" Aziraphale asked, trying to ignore the way his heart ramped up at the news. Crowley felt it too, it wasn't all him.

"And by the sound of it, you have too."

"Yes, I have. But only thrice before, 55BC, 13-"

"-77 and 1601."

Aziraphale's blue eyes widened and he stared at Crowley in shock, "I- I, how did you know?"

"Same for me, Angel. Same for me."

"So she's connected then, to the both of us." Aziraphale said slowly, trying to work it all out in his head. Crowley nodded, pursing his lips and making a 'tsk' noise under his breath.

"She's looked different each time. I don't think she's an Angel or a demon," Crowley said, ripping off a small piece of the bread she gave him and tossing it into the water. No, it wasn't good for them but who cares at this point. They were eternally connected to something.

"No, I think you're quite right. She's something else entirely. I'll have to do some research, I'll let you know if I have anything of note."

Crowley swallows, "same 'ere."

"Okay. Well then, good afternoon to you," Aziraphale tipped his hat and wandered off back to his book shop, his head completely filled with ideas of shapeshifters and witches, all sorts of creatures.

Current Day—————

Crowley parked the Bentley outside Aziraphale's shop, the wheel a slight tap before getting out. It was cold today, and he saw dozens of people shuffling into Nina's shop for some warmth. He himself was freezing but he knew even slightly suggesting to Aziraphale would earn him some pampering, blanket tucked in, hot chocolate, and near undivided angelic attention. Normally he didn't like asking for it, but it's been a weird few years with the Armageddon't, and he could use some pampering.

He felt a pang in his chest, a strange sort of pull he didn't know what to do with. What did humans do when their hearts hurt? Then it struck him - he wasn't human. Why would his heart be hurting?

"Oi, you doing okay?" A voice said from the pavement outside Aziraphale's shop. Crowley looked up, surprised to see Nina with a bag full of ingredients.

"What're you doing out

She held up the bag with a raised brow, as though he was stupid to just suggest it, "you're alright then?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. But you haven't got other staff and the place's full."

"Oh, yeah, forgot you didn't know about that." Nina said dryly. "I hired a new barista. Name's Y/N. New to town."

There it was, that pull dragging him towards her shop. He couldn't explain, tried to rack his brain as to what would want him in there. He glanced back through the windows, trying to see if anything was amiss.

Each instance with her seemed to last for a second, barely enough to know if it was the truth or a trick of the light. But Crowley had lived long enough on enough stupid planets to know that when he saw something that wasn't typically there, it wasn't a figment of his imagination. He swallowed, trying to betray anything to Nina.

"Right. Well then, better get back to it," he said, moving past her shoving his way into Aziraphale's bookshop.

"Oh Crowley, wonderful you're here-"

"Yes, yes, I'm wonderful, you're wonderful, the world's bloody wonderful. Angel, do you remember in 1865 when we saw her in St James's Park?"

There wasn't a need to clarify who the 'her' was. Aziraphale straightened, removing his spectacles from his nose. "Yes, I do."

"And you remember when you said you'd research it and report back, but never did?"

"Yes, I do. Crowley-"

"I need that research now, Angel." Crowley said quickly, not letting Aziraphale ask more pointless questions.

"Nothing came of it, dear, that's why I'd never told you. We would have sensed if she was a witch, angel, demon, or anything other supernatural. We have those senses."

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"Crowley, what happened? What did you see?"

"She's here."

Aziraphale's eyebrows shot up and he placed a surprise hand on his chest, not quite knowing what to do with that information. "Here?!"

"In London. In the coffee shop, in Nina's coffee shop. I - I saw her. There was a golden thread between us. I know it's her, Angel. She looks different but she has every time. It's her."

"You saw a golden thread?"

"Yes."

Aziraphale put his spectacles back on, heading for one of his bookshelves towards the back of the shop, "are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes, Angel, I'm bloody positive."

"A Golden thread has never shown up before. The previous times were all the, err, the eyes. This means something." Aziraphale said, gathering the dusty book from his shelf and depositing it on his desk with a thud. "In Greek mythology the golden thread was your life line. Your life thread so to speak. Fate, destiny, the whole nine yards."

"Yes, Angel, but the Greeks were wrong and that's how we exist so what does it mean for us?" Crowley grabbed a chair and fell into it, placing a frustrated hand on his temple.

Aziraphale thumbed through pages until he found what he was looking for. He read the words, but it only helped to scrunch his brow. "This doesn't make any sense. The threads only have two colors, two avenues."

"What do the threads mean, Angel?" His tone pained in frustration. This girl was scaring him, and he couldn't explain why. As far as he knew she presented no threat to him. And yet all the same, he feared her. He wasn't a fan of the unknown. Everything had been so planned out for so long, even though he didn't like the idea of the world ending it was a plan nonetheless.

"It says here that white thread is for eternal blessings. Saints and what not. Black thread for eternal damnation. But it only exists on a human while they are alive."

"Wot? I don't see black threads on people, d'you see white threads?"

Aziraphale adjusted his spectacles, "it says here they only appear if an Angel, or in your case, dearest, a demon, specifically bless them. Or, err, curse them."

"Still, you'd think 6,000 years and I woulda seen something."

Aziraphale nodded in agreement, "I've not seen any either."

"Wait, how'd you know about all this then?" Crowley waved a hand vaguely in between Aziraphale and the book.

Aziraphale looked confused for a moment, "all this? Oh, ah, you mean how I've come to know about the threads? Well it is to my understanding that this was brought up by Michael -"

"Head honcho Michael?" Crowley asked.

"Yes, though I wouldn't use such human terms myself. Michael had thought it up around 100BC. Thought it would be a fun way of identifying humans. But the upstairs didn't fancy the idea, She dispelled it not too long after."

"Hmm... never woulda pictured that out of Michael."

"Well, they say you never really know someone." Aziraphale replied, looking back over the pages as Crowley began to ramble.

"Always thought that applied to killers. No one ever says that 'bout the good deeds, they only say it after you've hurt someone. If someone's killed a kid, everyone's all up in arms like 'you never really knew 'em.' But if someone's a paramedic no one's like 'you never really know-'"

Aziraphale felt his jaw drop open as the words at the bottom of the page finally clicked. Part of the reason Michael's plan never worked, at least according to Gabriel, was that the wording was too specific. "No one uses 'eternally' in their everyday vocabulary," he had argued. Back then Aziraphale had quite agreed with Gabriel, but everyone agreed with Gabriel if it meant shutting Michael up. But he remembered a time not long before the thread idea was vanished when he had used the word 'eternally' in conversation. He reread to be sure, then piped up over Crowley's random complaining, "C-Crowley... do you remember what you said to her in 55BC?"

Crowley's face scrunched as he tried to think all the way back. "I, uh, tripped her. On accident, then she called me an asshole and I-I damned her for eternity I think."

"Oh dear."

"What does this 'oh dear' me? Angel?" When Aziraphale didn't say anything Crowley got up, stalking over to him quickly. "What did you see?"

"I blessed her for eternity."

"So? What's that mean?"

"I-I think, and I could be very very wrong, however I think that means we've, err, we've trapped her soul in an endless strain between Heaven and Hell."

"No, no, no, no," Crowley started to say, unconsciously pacing as he tried to unravel it all in his head. "That doesn't make any sense. Her thread is gold, white and black don't make gold. It makes grey, she should be grey!"

"I think the color of her thread is far from our biggest issue, Crowley."

"So, so what? She's trapped to us?"

Aziraphale ran a hand down his face, trying to process. "I- she might be."

"But her body's changed each time. It's not the same woman."

"Ah, but her eyes. They've stayed the same. You know as well as I do they're the same."

Crowley stopped, knowing he didn't have grounds to argue. Aziraphale was right, after all. Then he groaned, rubbing his eyes. "Fucking hell-"

"Language," Aziraphale said with pursed lips.

"Wot? For the fucking or the hell part?" Crowley snapped, then upon seeing Aziraphale's dropped expression he immediately retracted. "I'm sorry. That was rude. You're not getting the stupid dance though. Angel, she's not immortal. Her soul is. She must just keep being, being reborn. But the soul from 55BC is still the same."

"That would make sense," Aziraphale said. "They do say the eyes are the window into the soul. Perhaps that explains why they remain while the rest of her can change."

"Yeah, yeah. It makes sense, don't it?"

"So we've accidentally trapped a human soul to Earth to live and die for eternity?"

"Yeah, yeah," Crowley sniffed. "Think we did, Angel."

There was a quiet pause as the two reflected on what they just realized. They, unwittingly, had created an immortal creature. She doesn't even know she's immortal, and by the past experience it sounds as if her mind is wiped with each death. But her soul lives on.

"Fuck," Aziraphale said quietly.

Crowley looked up sharply, "wot'd you say?"

"I said fuck." He repeated, with more confidence this time around.

On any normal circumstance, Crowley would laugh and cherish the moment he saw Aziraphale curse - and with fuck of all of them - but he couldn't help but think Aziraphale was right. Fuck, indeed.

"What do we do?" Crowley asked.

"We have to tell her."

"We do? Why's that? What d'ya think we're gonna say? Hi random stranger I'm a demon he's an Angel and your soul is stuck, here have a cuppa."

"Well that would be straightforward -"

"Sarcasm, Angel. You've been here for thousands of years and you still don't process sarcasm."

Aziraphale stood up and went over to Crowley, touching his shoulders so he'd look up to him. "I understand that this is difficult. This is, it's entirely unprecedented territory. But she deserves the truth." He leaned in, his voice but a whisper. "It does help that we both feel a pull to her. Once we see her, it hurts to no interact. Perhaps we can find a way to end this, to help her."

Crowley swallowed, looking away from Aziraphale's bright blue eyes. He smelled of vanilla and old books, a scent Crowley would bottle up and spray all over his stupid, cold flat if he could. Maybe this girl could help, maybe she was good. But they first needed to meet her.

"Alright. Fine. Let's go, now," Crowley said, sliding his sunglasses back on. Aziraphale nodded and retrieved his coat.

The pair walked out of the bookshop, locking up, and swiftly walked cross the street. They hesitated outside the door, neither knowing what to do. A flash of a blue apron in the window caught their attention, and then a golden thread, shining in the light, emerged and wrapped round the owners waist.

"You seeing that, Angel?"

"Y-yes, I am. It's not faded."

It didn't. It sparkled and swayed in the air, moving with the owners body as she walked around in the shop.

"On three," Aziraphale said. Crowley grumbled in agreement. "One, two ... three."

They opened the doors and were almost immediately greeted by a sweet smile and kind eyes. The same eyes they'd seen for hundreds of years. She smiled, tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear.

"Hi guys, welcome in! Feel free to take a seat wherever you like, I'll be with you in a moment."

"O-okay," Aziraphale said, his voice wispy in the confusion and whirlwind that was her. But she was entirely unaware, blissfully living in her own world that she didn't know was about to be ruined.

They sat in a far corner, away from any windows. Crowley sprawled in the seat, looking anywhere but at Aziraphale. Aziraphale sat stiff as a bored, left leg bouncing so furiously the table itself started to shake.

"Right, what can I get you lads?" She seemed to appear out of nowhere, shining golden thread wrapped round her sweet waist right where the apron was tied.

Aziraphale spoke first, not looking her in the eye but instead staring out the window. An uncharacteristically rude action on his part. "Oh, um, just a latte please. With 3 shots of vanilla."

"Ooo, yum. And for you, the one with the glasses?" She asked, her voice light.

Crowley thought for a moment. Better bite the bullet, eh? He turned, took his sunglasses off, and looked her in the eyes. "Espresso, darling."

Her eyes had a golden flash and she seemed to jump, her pad falling to the table in her shock. She looked between Aziraphale and Crowley with wide eyes, hands going to her stomach as she took deep breaths. "Aziraphale. Your name is Aziraphale," she said to him. Eyes wide. She turned to the demon. "You're Crowley."

"Yes, dear, we are."

"Why do I know that?" Her voice was shaky and yet she stayed, not angry or scared that she knew unknowable information.

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a glance. Crowley sighed, flicking his hand. Time around them stopped. Customers held their mugs up in the air, Nina mid pouring a cup, and a man getting ready to ask for the most ridiculous drink he could think of. All were trapped in this moment except for her, Aziraphale and Crowley.

She jumped, looking around with wide eyes, "h-how'd you do that? Why did you do that?"

"Please, take a seat dear," Aziraphale said, snapping as a plush chair appeared behind her. She tripped into it, her body language stuff and frightened.

"This is all feeling like a very strange dream, and I don't like it," she said, taking deep breaths to try and clear her mind. "Did you just stop time and if so, how the hell did you? And you just miraculously created a chair? And why do I know who the hell you are?"

"Dearest, it's not a dream, I'm afraid. You have met us before. You've met us multiple times before," Aziraphale took a breath. "I-I'm afraid we have some complicated news."

"Tell me who the hell you are!" She was getting scared, her heart fighting against her rib cage. She wanted to get up, she wanted to run away, put her hands over her ears and scream 'la la la' over and over until they left her alone. But she didn't. It wasn't a physical thing, even though these familiar strangers had put her in a terrifying position she knew they'd let her go. It was her soul that kept her trapped. "Who are you? I need to know. Who are you really?"

Aziraphale placed a warm hand on her own. His was large, soft and yet strong. She liked the feeling of his hands as he held one of hers, looking into her eyes. "My name is Aziraphale. I am an Angel of God. I was the Guardian of the East Gate at the Garden of Eden, but now I am on Earth. I perform miracles and I run a bookshop, with my dearest friend."

His eyes glanced over to the other man. He was handsome, tanned skin with fiery red hair slicked up and back over his head. Aziraphale might have called him a friend, but she wasn't stupid enough to believe that. It was more than that, maybe they didn't know it but she definitely did.

Another hand grasped hers, this one lean and long. He grasped her hand with a soft intensity she didn't know possible. "My name's Crowley. I'm a demon, you'd know me cause I was a, uh, let's call me a reptile."

She blinked rapidly, "you were the snake that tempted Eve?"

"Wow, she's a quick one," Crowley smiled widely.

"Wasn't he cursed to only use his belly?"

Crowley rolled his eyes, "it's complicated."

"You, both, are not human. You're an Angel and you're a demon. So Christianity is right."

"Yes, love. But God is actually a She, that bit got muddled," Aziraphale smiled. "Are you feeling better?"

"That doesn't explain, why- why do I know you? I recognize both of you, but I don't know why. Then you made that comment about having met me multiple times, for years, what does that mean?" She was getting a little riled but she tried to stay calm. This wasn't going to make any more sense by screaming at a literal demon. And Angel, but the demon was more infuriating at the moment. He stared at her with a mix of awe and shock, and she didn't want to think about any of it.

Aziraphale sighed, "before the current era, you know Roman times and what not, the Archangel Michael played with the idea of threads. It was similar in concept to the Greek idea of fate -"

"You happened to be alive when this was a thing. It means when a demon curses you and says the word 'eternally' a black thread'll appear to let everyone know you're damned forever. White thread with angels."

"I'm damned forever? Wait, you said Roman times - I was alive during the ancient roman era?"

"Well, darling, he blessed you and I cursed you at the same day. Meaning your soul is trapped with both Heaven and Hell," Crowley said softly. "We think your soul has been reincarnated since about 55BC. And it's because of us. This Golden shit you see is our connection."

"But white and black make grey?"

Crowley clapped and said "aha! She gets it!"

"Crowley," Aziraphale said, though his eyes were light with amusement. "We can't explain the color of the thread. But we believe it means you're connected to us. Both of us, we get this pull to you when you're around. As though we have to see you."

There was a moment of silence as they let her collect her thoughts. Unconsciously, she'd curled up into a ball on the comfy chair Aziraphale had miracled. She thought and thought, rolling over the idea that she's trapped here on earth. An accidental immortal being tied to these two.

She glanced at Aziraphale. She knew him, she has known him. She bit her lip, wishing to understand everything as it was.

"M-May I?" She asked, tentatively lifting a hand near his face. She needed to touch him, to feel him, to try and remember.

The Angel nodded. He was soft, his hair light and white, in short curls on top of his head. She liked the curls, they looked rather fetching on him. Her fingertips brushed lightly down his face, feeling his kind face. She liked his lips, they were pink and couldn't fight a smile. Then she glanced down and saw his hand in his lap. Running an hand down his shoulder to his hand, she lifted it and eyed the golden ring.

"Aziraphale..." she murmured. It all started to fall into place. The dancing, the food, the wine. He'd looked so out of place in pale clothing, so obviously finer than anyone else's. He'd tried to blend in with an outdated style, to balance the richness, but she could spot him through the crowd with ease. His cheeks had gotten pink, and he'd gone for a drink. She hadn't meant to spill on him, she just wanted a chat. "I gave you this ring. You didn't want it at first, but I gave it to you. It says Aziraphale on it."

He took a shaky breath, his eyes becoming glassy with tears. His lips trembled as he said, "you did."

Aziraphale slid the ring off his finger, turning it so she could see the inside. There enough his name was scrawled in haphazard writing. It had faded from the years, some of the details lost to time. But she remembered this ring when it was new. When William had gotten it in his shop and didn't know what to make of it. And she'd taken it, knew it would be special.

She pressed a soft kiss to the ring, then slid it back on Aziraphale's finger. She looked him in the eyes as she kissed the back of his hand, "I remember you."

The tears had actually fallen now, hitting his cheeks softly. He didn't try to hide it, and she wouldn't want him to. Perhaps it was this whole eternal blessing thing, but she was drawn to him.

Then she turned to the demon. Crowley. He sat high and mighty in his chair, looking away as though he were intruding on Aziraphale's private moment. He was handsome in a different way than Aziraphale. Where Aziraphale was soft and strong, Crowley was sharp and sweet. She smiled when she looked at him, knowing he was sweet without saying it.

She went to him to, lifting her hand then asking softly, "may I touch you?"

He swallowed, and nodded. She first touched his hair, it was softer then it looked. Her fingertips brushed it so it feel on his forehead, liking the contrast of his skin against the red. Then she traced along his tattoo, the way his cheekbone felt under her touch.

With gentle hands, she cupped his cheeks and turned his face so he had to look her in the eyes. She smiled. "I'd wondered if they were still yellow."

He closed his eyes, cringing. He'd always hated his eyes. "Sorry they're-"

"Beautiful." He opened his eyes quickly. "I remember your eyes. They've been in my dreams and I never knew why. The man with the yellow snake eyes. They are so, so beautiful. Like a sunflower."

"You're comparing s'demon eyes to a sunflower?"

She smiled and nodded, "you have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen."

Crowley sucked in a breath, closing his eyes. It as though the attention itself would make him implode.

"Keep them closed," she said. Then he felt a pair of soft lips kiss one eyelid, then the other. "Absolutely beautiful. Don't you think so, Aziraphale?"

Crowley was shocked to hear Aziraphale agree. "I adore your eyes, dear. They've been my favorite for a long time."

The three didn't know what to do with themselves, time frozen around them. But however strange the situation, she wasn’t afraid. Not anymore. She wanted to get to know this Angel and demon, understand their pasts and more about their connection.

“Thank you, my dear, for your patience,” Aziraphale said kindly.

“I suppose I should be thanking you, you’ve waited hundreds of years.” She said with a dry laugh that made Crowley smile.

There weren’t any words that seemed to describe the moment the three of them shared, in a moment frozen in time knowing they had all the time in the world. But for now it was enough, and that was all it needed to be.

#good omens #good omens season 2 #fluff #soulmate au #good omens fanfiction #good omens x reader #kind of on accident #didn’t think I cared about it until now and I still don’t but I’m proud of this fic #god it’s long please read #historical shit #Aziraphale x Crowley x reader #Aziraphale x Crowley #12k words #my sanity is gone #don’t even care that much about a reader insert with them but I’m here #so enjoy

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wwhatev3r · 2 years

Note

Easy company reactions to you telling them you’re pregnant 🫢

Easy Company Reaction: telling them you're pregnant

Notes: I suck at writing fluff, but I tried my best, yeah :) I hope you and everyone like it. Oh and I made a really pretty moodboard for this post but tumblr won't show my post on the tags if i use it. Fuck you tumblr!

– Dick Winters - (Please, give this man 5 seconds to process what you just said.) “You’re pregnant.” he repeated your words, “We’re having a baby.” He was saying it slowly without breaking his gaze with yours, as a way to wake up from the shock and to realize what you just told him. He then hugged you and kissed your forehead. It didn't take much for him to immediately start preparing the nursery.

– Lewis Nixon - (Your luck is that he is rich.) You told him right after you declined a cup of whiskey from him. “What? You are what?” he almost spilled his drink, “Holy shit… I mean, that’s amazing news honey!” He looked a little dizzy and almost tripped when he went to kiss you. After that he literally ran to tell Dick and save him the spot as godfather of the child.

– Carwood Lipton - (Literal silent panic.) After a few seconds of total silence he walked over to you and hugged you like it was the last time he was going to hug you in his life. He held you close and said: “It’s going to be fine, we got this.” You could tell he was a little worried but he just needed time to process all of it. He was so stressed the next few days, he wanted everything to be prepared and perfect.

– Ronald Speirs - He gave you one of his typical intense gazes. For a moment you thought he was angry but then when he walked across the room to reach you, grab your face and look you deeply in the eyes, you could see he was on the verge of tears. “I’m going to dedicate my life to you and to our baby.” he said, as he landed one of his hands on your belly. The next day you found a little list of names in his office.

– George Luz - He almost choked on his food. “Cut the crap. What? Are you serious?” After he realized you weren’t kidding he ran to pick you up, spin you around and kiss you. He looked like a kid on Christmas from how happy he was. You had the spend the evening trying to convince him to not name the child some really stupid name. “If It’s a boy can we name him after me? And can we take him or her to play baseball?” he asked at least.

– Joe Liebgott - “Tell me you’re not joking. Princess, you just made me the happiest man alive.” He quickly ran to hold you by your waist and gave you a breathless kiss, “Holy shit, I’m going to be a dad.” He was so excited but as his last words kept repeating in his head a sudden grip on his chest started to grow. He then told you that he was scared of not being a good father. You guys talked it out and the next day he came home with a baby suit saying “Sorry ladies my daddy is definitely taken.”

– Bill Guarnere - You had to sit him down to tell him. “You’re not kidding, right?” He immediately got up, “Holy fuck, we are going to have a mini Bill or Billie!” (good luck bestie) The shocked expression grew in a second into the biggest smile you have ever seen and he almost trip when he reached you for a kiss. He called everyone to announce it like the proud dad that he is. “Guess the fuck what… I’m going to be a dad!!”

– Joe Toye - “W-what? You’re pregnant?” He had never hugged you so tightly in his life but when you met his eyes you felt his anxiety. Joe was scared that he might not be prepared but he had been waiting for that moment for so long and he was not gonna let his insecurities take over his happiness. He is always so stressed that you and baby may get hurt, so he doesn't let you do anything at home during your pregnancy.

– Donald Malarkey - “Are you shitting me? Honey, I-... I don't know what to say. I mean, you are pregnant. We are going to have a baby!” he playfully picked you up between exciting giggles. He immediately ran to the store to go buy diapers and baby bottles (don’t worry he came back.) Him and Skip spent the next 9 months singing and telling jokes to your belly.

– Warren “Skip'' Muck - “Oh my god, you’re pregnant?” You showed him the test after he asked, “Oh my god, you’re pregnant!” He started jumping around and then washed you with kisses. He ran to tell Malark and Penkala and immediately asked you if both of them could be godfathers. Every day he talks to your belly: “Hey bud, It’s me, your dad. How is it there? Is mommy’s belly comfortable?” (I’m crying, he’s the cutest.)

– Darrel “Shifty” Powers - (This gentleman, I-) You sat him by your side when you told him. “Really?... You are?” He instantly held your hands and grew the sweetest smile, “I can’t believe you're carrying our baby right now.” After that he kissed you like you’re made of glass. From there on he tried his best to stop smoking because of you and the baby, and when it's time to go to bed he wishes the baby a goodnight and kisses your belly and then your lips.

– Eugene Roe - He was speechless for some seconds until you called his name, he then got closer to you. “Honey, I could not be more happy but It’s up to you if…” You made clear you’re ready and that you wanted the baby, you then saw his shy smile bloom and gaze at the floor before meeting your eyes again and kiss you tenderly. He found the best doctor and scheduled every appointment at least once a month to make sure everything was okay. After all he is a medic, you could not be in better hands.

– Edward “Babe” Heffron - At first impression he did panic a little. “W-what? Are you serious? Oh my… what are we gonna do?” You even saw his sweat rolling down his forehead, so you had to sit him down, relax him and make sure everything was going to be okay. He took a deep breath and then a little childlike smile grew, “I’m going to be a dad.” He spent the whole weekend celebrating. He even started referring to the baby as if he was already there: “What about the three of us going to a nice restaurant?”

– David Webster - His heart even skipped a beat. “Are you certain?” he asked you a little unassertive, “We are having a baby, I can’t believe it.” You notice the excitement grow by his voice. He then grew a big smile and hugged you, lifting you up. He spent the whole time reading books about babies, baby care and giving birth. He was ready for the child theoretically, but Lieb always made some pretty dark humor jokes to make him scared. But in the end it turned out fine.

– Frank Perconte - You couldn't tell if he was happy or scared. He was so excited but he was sweating, for a second you even thought he was going to faint. “It’s amazing! A baby!” he told you after kissing you a million times, “It’s like having you and me mixed in a bowl, it's awesome!” He then took a deep breath and said: “Yeah, I think I need to sit down a little.” He was having a mix of emotions, but when things cooled down he started preparing everything. The next day he came home with two packs of diapers and so many clothes for the baby.

– Denver “Bull” Randleman - As the mature man that he is he stayed pretty calm. “There isn't anyone in this world that I wish more to have a family with than you.” He gently brushed your hair before pulling you for a peaceful kiss. Bull never felt more responsible over something in his life. He did everything in his power to make sure you were comfortable and safe, after all he loved you and you were carrying your and his child.

– John Martin - You had to sit Johnny down before telling him. “A-are you sure?” He tried to act calm but you could see how nervous he was and still trying to keep his serious expression. You asked if he was happy and his eyelids instantly loosed and he got down on his knees to hold your hands, “I am, baby. I’m sorry I was just taken by surprise. I-... I love you, if you’re happy I’m happy.” He gave you a passionate kiss and one of his rare vulnerable smiles. May no one stress you, hurt you or look at you in a wrong way or he will riot.

– Floyd Talbert - (Oh, this is going to be fun…) Right after you told him he paralyzed for a second. “I-i… hum, well,” He started stuttering but then tried to put himself back together by walking over to you and gazing into your eyes, “Well, that’s great news.” You’re not expecting to take it so well but after all he wasn't that surprised that you were pregnant. He was so excited for the baby, he wanted to teach him how to play guitar and play sports. One night he said: “Hey love, after he or she is born can we go make some more?”

#band of brothers #band of brothers headcanons #band of brothers imagine #easy company

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idy-ll-ique · 3 years

Text

Didn’t Know Where Else To Go.

Pairing: Mob Boss!Sebastian Stan x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff and Angst

Warnings: violence, assault, death, mentions of smut at the end and curse words

Requested: Nope

The hero shows up at the villain’s doorstep one night. They’re shivering, bleeding, scared. There’s also a slightly dazed look in their eyes- they were drugged. They look like they were assaulted. Looking up at the villain, swaying slightly as they’re close to passing out, they mumble “...didn’t know where else to go...” then collapse into the villain’s arms.

Summary: Sebastian Stan: a mobster boss. Everyone in the city hated him. When he meets Y/N, a new bartender at his favourite bar, she makes it clear that she also doesn’t like him. What changes?

Author’s Note: Hey peeps! The aforementioned prompt is something I read on Tumblr and really liked it. So I decided to write a fic loosely based on it. I hope you guys enjoy this! (This has been in my drafts for a long time, I’m currently working on 2 requested fics)

---

Sebastian POV:

"Boss, there is someone at the door."

"Send them in," I commanded, looking up from my book. The person who walked in with him was… instantly recognizable. My jaw dropped— she had been crying. Her pupils were dilated, she was taking short, fast breaths and her voice was frail. "What are you doing here?"

"Didn't know where else to go."

With that, she did the most YA-Novel-Female-Protagonist thing she could do— faint.

It all began 7 months ago. The person who was at the door was Y/N Y/L/N, a bartender at one of my favourite bars ever in the city. The thing is, when we first met, she hated me. Let me take you back 7 months.

Flashback:

I entered the bar, smirking when everyone turned to look at me. They looked away just as quickly, their voices becoming hushed. I looked around, stopping when I saw the bartender. Whoa, this was someone new and damn was she cute. Smiling, I walked over and sat down in front of her.

"Hey, was— oh. What will you like, sir?" I rolled my eyes at her. "Come on, why does everyone do the same thing? What is it about me?" I joked, winking. "Um, the fact that you're a fucking mobster and have been terrorizing the city for the past few years and would kill anyone if they question you? Uh, I don't know, actually," she snapped.

I froze. The woman seemed to really hate me. Here I was, thinking if I buttered her up enough she'd come home with me. I told her my order and looked away from her. "So, why here?" she asked me as she prepared my drink. "I really like this place, I've been here before loads of times. I don't plan to stop," I shrugged.

"Ugh, just my luck," she mumbled under her breath, rolling her eyes in disgust. "Look, you don't have to be fucking rude, okay?" I retorted. "Oh yeah? What are you gonna do? Shoot me? That's what you like to do, right? Kill people. Innocent people, let me be precise. No wonder everyone in the city except your goons hate you."

With that, she slammed my glass on the counter and stormed away from me, going to serve another customer. I was left staring at the glass, my figure shaking with repressed anger. She knew damn well I never laid hands on innocent people. No one in the city hated me.

Or did they?

The shaking stopped. What if she was right? I mean, she was much closer to the civilians than I was, what if they all hated me? "Uh, excuse me," I called out, hating how my voice cracked slightly. She glanced at me. "What do you want?"

"Answers."

"Ask the questions first," she huffed. "Does… does everyone really not like me?" I asked her. She stopped cleaning the glass, set it down and looked straight at me. "Yes. They don't like you. You're a mobster boss, dude! Have you seen films with mobster bosses? All of them, evil as hell. See how everyone in the bar became quiet when you came in?"

She had a point. "You know I would never lay a hand on innocent people," I defended myself, glaring at her. "Look, I'm sorry but we can never be too careful. What if you snap one day? What if you go rogue? Everyone lives in fear. They're afraid of you. And it's not like I can change everyone's mindset all at once."

"I guess you're right," I muttered, downing my drink in one go. "Hey, Mr Stan?" I looked up. "Y/N Y/L/N. I shouldn't have snapped at you," she apologized quietly, holding her hand out. "Doing this to get onto my good side?" I teased and she laughed.

"Come on, man! Doing this to show people you're not all you seem to be." I took her hand and shook it. "It's very nice to meet you, Y/N." She nodded and went back to cleaning the glasses. "Can I get one more drink?"

"I hope you didn't drive here."

"I came on foot, actually. My house is just down the block." She gasped, startling me. "Mr Stan, giving your address away to strangers? How irresponsible of you!" I couldn't help but laugh. "I guess I trust you to not do anything bad." I spent another 2 hours there, chatting with Y/N.

She was a really fun person to be around. She had completed her education but was searching for jobs. In the meanwhile, she had decided to work here.

By the time I was done drinking, I was too tipsy to even walk. "K, I'm goin'," I slurred, standing up. "Mr Stan, don't— oof," Y/N hissed as I fell off the chair in my intoxicated state. She rushed around the bar and helped me stand, wrapping her arms around my waist. "You can't walk in this state."

"I need to go home," I whined. "As it turns out, you've stayed long enough and now it's closing time. Let me get my coat." She dumped me on the chair and went to fetch her coat. I admired her from afar.

She wore a mini-skirt that was flirtatiously snug around her thick thighs and a tank top. When she wore the coat, it extended past the skirt. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun and she was looking very sexy in the dim light. "Damn," I whispered under my breath, smirking.

When she returned, she helped me stand. I draped an arm around her shoulder and we stepped out of the bar. "Okay, which direction?" I pointed to the right and we proceeded to walk. "Have you ever gotten this drunk before? Because it's obvious you can't handle booze."

"Not really, I usually have to stay sober for my job. We need real intellectuals in the mob biz, you can't have drunk idiots running a mob," I laughed, finding it hard to keep myself upright. Shouldn't have drank so much…

"Right now, sir, you are a drunk idiot," Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes. "Thank you, I will take that as a compliment. Plus, you can just call me Sebastian, it's okay." She shook her head and silence fell between us. "Tell me when we're there," she spoke quietly as I felt a headache coming.

"Being drunk sucks," I pouted, "I'm not even having a good time! It hurts everywhere—" "Probably because you fell off the chair." "—and my head hurts! I don't understand why people like to be so drunk." She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"You are seriously reminding me of my ex-boyfriend. He couldn't handle drinks either and I always had to babysit him when he got back home drunk," she muttered. "You can babysit me anytime!" I said cheerfully. "You're drunk, Sebastian, stop flirting with me."

"But you're so cute."

"Thank you, that is very kind of you."

"And se— we're here! That's my house!" She stopped in front of my house and rang the bell. "Is anyone at home or do I have to tuck you in?" she joked. "Nah, my best buddies and right-hand-men live with me. One's name is Chris—" Just at that moment, Chris opened the door.

"Wha— Sebastian? Are you drunk?"

"Sorry sir, I didn't know he couldn't handle drinks. I'm Y/N Y/L/N, the new bartender at Red Tavern." With that, she passed me to Chris. "Thank you for bringing him home, Ms Y/L/N. It's not your fault he got intoxicated, he should've known when to stop. He didn't cause trouble, did he?"

"Oh no, of course not, sir. He's fun to be around," she commented, gesturing towards me. I grinned. "Please, he's really not, you don't have to lie. Anyway, thank you so much again! Do you want a lift home? I can ask Anthony to drive you home."

"That would be great, thanks. My house is in the opposite direction, it's a bit far…"

"Absolutely no problem. Anthony!"

A few minutes later, my other friend, Anthony Mackie came downstairs, rubbing his eyes. "Yeah— oh, Sebastian is— damn." He tried to hold his laughter in. "Yeah. While I get him to his room, do you mind dropping her home? That's Y/N, she brought him home." Y/N waved at him.

"Of course, I don't mind. Thanks, Y/N, for taking care of our boss." She shook her head, waving her arms in dismissal. "Absolutely no worries, sir." They walked away, closing the door behind them. "She's cute, right?"

Chris blinked at me. "You have a crush on her!" he guffawed. "Duh, man. Did you even look at her? Girl was oozing sexiness," I smiled in fond memory. "Okay this got weird fast, I'm just gonna take you to bed." He got me to my room, placed me on the bed and left.

As soon as my head hit the pillow, I passed out.

End Flashback.

"Y/N!" I yelled, jumping out of my seat to catch her in time. "Get a suite ready," I barked angrily at a few people, who immediately ran in fear. "And you, get me some water and a blanket." The person nodded shakily and ran out of the room. I picked Y/N up and carried her to the couch, laying her down. I sat next to her, checking her temperature.

Oh no, I needed a doctor. I took out my phone and called my personal practitioner but before I could speak, Y/N coughed. "Y/N," I whispered, cutting the call. "Sebastian, it hurts," she moaned. "Don't worry, doll, I'm calling my doctor. Stay here tonight."

"I don't have anywhere else to go." I froze. "Your house?" I asked. "That's… that's where I got attacked. I can't go back," she cried. "Wait, just— just take rest, we'll talk when you're better. Get some sleep, I'm calling my doctor." I called him again, glancing at Y/N when she took my other hand and closed her eyes.

I chatted with him for five minutes; he said he'd take half-an-hour to get to my place. "Damn it," I grumbled, keeping my phone on the table. Just then, one of my servants returned with the glass of water and the blanket. I thanked her and she left the room, so it was just me and Y/N.

"Y/N, sweetie, can you please get up for me?" She opened her eyes. "What?" Oh God, she was getting weaker. "Have some water." As soon as I held the glass of water in front of her, she freaked out. Screaming, she pushed the glass out of my hand and it fell to the floor with a 'clang', the water spilling everywhere.

"No, no water, no… no…" She sobbed, pulling at her hair. "Okay, okay, no water! No water! Y/N, calm—" I grabbed her hands and clutched them in mine. She stopped sobbing; looked at our hands and then at my face. I brought her hands to my lips, softly kissing them. "No water. It's okay, Y/N, you're safe with me."

"Safe," she breathed heavily, "That's what he said to me before he poisoned me!" Who was he? Okay, she was getting insanely paranoid now… "I'm not like him, Y/N, I don't wanna hurt you," I whispered, looking straight into her eyes.

"Yes, you are! You both can't handle drinks!" she yelled, her tears beginning to flow once more. "Wait." My nostrils flared. Her ex-boyfriend, he harmed her? "Y/N, please, this is not good for your health, why don't you try to calm down? Breathe, baby girl, please," I pleaded.

She seemed to momentarily come to her senses. "Sebastian…" Without warning, she sat up and flung herself in my arms. And for once, I didn't mind holding her close. "You're okay with me. I'm not him. I am not going to harm you, Y/N, trust me," I mumbled into her hair, rubbing her back.

"I trusted him," she sobbed, "And he tried to kill me." This time, my anger won. I vowed to myself, if I don't kill her ex boyfriend in the next 24 hours— "I am nothing like him. We may have one shared trait," I rolled my eyes at its stupidity, "But I am nothing like him. For once, I wouldn't harm you even in my dreams."

Her sobs started to subside. "That's it, doll, don't cry. I'll keep you safe. Even if I die trying, I'll let no harm come to you." For 7 long months, I missed her. I missed her a bit too much. Every waking moment of mine was spent thinking about the beautiful bartender.

She was in my dreams. She was constantly on my mind. I longed for the moment when I could meet her again and ask her out. Alas, that time never came.

A week after we met, I had to go to Romania for some important work. I spent three months there and when I was back, Y/N was no longer working at the bar. She found a new job and I had no way of locating her anywhere.

I knew Anthony dropped her home that one time but when I asked him, he told me she had asked him to drop him off somewhere else. From there, he said, she was going to walk alone. He offered to drop her home again, but she refused. Having no choice, he returned without knowing where she lived.

That resulted in me not knowing where she was. I was heartbroken and told myself to stop thinking about her. I became more and more engaged in work, I became moody, temperamental and cold-hearted. Everyone started fearing me more now.

And I finally saw what Y/N meant.

What if you snap one day?

That day was closer than I thought. Even though I became a much more accomplished mobster, there was one thing I couldn't do even if I tried— forget about the love of my life.

"Seb, it hurts." I was brought back to the real world. "What hurts, baby girl?" I whispered, pulling her closer. "Head. Stomach. Legs. Arms. Heart." I smiled sadly at the last word. "I'll help you heal, Y/N, you don't have to go anywhere until you're better." She nuzzled into my neck. "I'd like that."

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. "Come in," I called out, it was probably the doctor. Sure enough...

"Mr Stan? Oh, you have a guest." I tried to shift to make space for the doctor, but Y/N whimpered. "It's okay, Mr Stan, she clearly feels safer with you here." I placed Y/N on my lap, covering her with the blanket. "This is my friend, Y/N," I spoke fondly, though I really wanted to add 'girl' in front of 'friend'.

"Nice to meet you, dear, I am Dr Greenwood." With my help, he quickly ran some tests on her. "Hm, she has a fever, her heart rate is very fast and that's not good. Is there any other problem you're facing?" She nodded. "Headache and stomach ache."

"She claims to be poisoned," I added. "Oh dear me! I need to run a blood test, will you be so kind as to extend your right arm?" She did as he told her and he quickly took some blood. "Will she be fine?" I asked worriedly.

"Well, she seems to be doing okay currently, which means the poison hasn't affected her yet. How about I get back to you by the morning? Just keep an eye on her and if something happens, bring her to the hospital."

"Okay, doc. Thank you." He nodded and got up. "Bye!" Y/N called out weakly; he smiled at her and left, closing the door behind him. "You've got to tell me everything, doll," I whispered, putting her down on the couch. She lay down and I sat on the floor near her head.

"Okay, I will tell you. It was a few hours ago," she began quietly, "I was at home, watching the seventh season of Brooklyn Nine-Nine when someone rang the bell. When I opened the door, my ex burst into the room forcefully. He pushed me."

My breathing sped up. "He pushed you? How dare that asshole—"

"Let me finish?"

"Go ahead, love, I'm sorry."

"Right, so he was very very drunk. And he was talking about how I broke his heart by breaking up with him and how he was so mad at me that he wanted to kill me. In front of me, he popped open the bottle of beer with him and poured an entire bottle of poison in it! An entire bottle! Then he attacked me and pinned me to the couch, forcing me to drink the poisoned beer."

"How did you escape?" I whispered. "By kicking him in the balls. Unfortunately, I ended up gulping down a sip and panicked. Seeing no other choice, I pushed him as hard as I could and he collided with the table. He hurt himself and became unconscious. I ran out of the house to the first place I could think of— here."

"I'm glad you came to me, Y/N, you'll be perfectly safe here. Our security is top-notch," I chuckled. She smiled, too. "Where are Chris and Anthony?" she noticed. "They're in Romania. They decided to stay back."

"Wait, that's where you were this whole time? You didn't come to the bar again and until then, I found another job so I quit. I thought you would never come back. I missed you a lot," she pouted. "I missed you, too. I was actually in Romania for 3 months and when I came back, I couldn't find you. I didn't even know where you lived, I didn't know where to look."

"What matters is now we're back together again!" she squealed. "You should rest for a while," I muttered, running my fingers through her hair. I checked the time, it was almost 2 am. Laughing when she yawned, I sat up. "I guess I should."

"Come, I'll take you to your room." I stood up with Y/N still in my arms. "I don't wanna be alone," she worriedly spoke, "What if he's awake and comes looking for me and finds me here?"

"No one is finding you here," I sighed, "I'll stay with you, okay? Just tell me your address." Without thinking, she narrated her entire address and looked up at me with sleep-hooded eyes. I walked into the suite my people had readied for her and placed her down on the bed.

"I'm right here, just relax and try to sleep," I crooned, running my fingers through her hair. She immediately closed her eyes, which relieved me because she was listening now. When her soft snores filled the room, I heaved a breath and got up. Covering her with a blanket, I left the room, quietly closing the door behind me.

---

"This is the place," I spoke to myself, stopping my car under the building. I got out and entered, taking the elevator to the sixth floor where she lived. When I reached her apartment, I noticed that the door was still open. I walked in, my gun ready as I looked around the place. Wow, Y/N maintained this place well.

I searched every room thoroughly, starting with the living room, then the kitchen and then the two bedrooms. Shit, did the asshole leave? Y/N told me she left him in the living room. I was about to leave when I heard belching coming from one of the bathrooms. I opened the door to the one closest to me, only to see someone puking in the toilet.

"Ew," I whispered and he looked up. "What the fuck—" He flushed the toilet and wiped his mouth with the toilet paper, "—are you doing here?" I realized he was still under the effects of heavy drinking. "Y/N told me everything," I sneered, hiding my gun behind my back.

"She knows you? Pfft, I knew she was a whore, why would she leave me for a goddamn mobster? Everyone in the city hates you," he jeered back. "Um, why don't you consider this? You're an abusive and possessive asshole and Y/N left you because you obviously were treating her badly?" I snapped.

"Don't get smart with me," he snarled, taking out a knife from his back pocket. "Oh," he snorted when I glanced at the knife, "Yes, I came prepared to cut that bitch up if she tried to fight back." The language he was using to describe Y/N was getting to me now.

"Enough!" I stated firmly, so firmly that even he paused. "I will not have you talking about Y/N like this, you are crossing a line." He returned to laughing. "Care too much about one of your sluts? What is she, your girlfriend?" Okay, he didn't have to rub it in…

"I said—'' I whipped out the gun and pointed it at him, "—enough. If you don't stop badmouthing Y/N—" He interrupted me again by laughing. "Of course, you're gonna shoot me. You like to murder innocent people, that's all you are! A bloody, fucking cold-hearted murderer! Y/N would never leave me for a guy like you! She is your slut!" he spat.

"Are you listening to yourself?! You tried to fucking kill Y/N because she couldn't put up with your abusive ways and your disturbing habits! I do not kill innocent people and I don't plan on killing them ever," I growled, "However, I do make exceptions for abusive boyfriends who treat my friend wrong!"

With that, before he could retort, I fired three bullets at him. All three hit him in the chest and I watched as he fell against the floor, instantly dead. Some of his blood sprayed on my clothes and face, which made me scrunch up my face in disgust. But as I watched his lifeless body on the floor, a smile bloomed on my face.

Y/N was safe.

I checked myself in the bathroom mirror, washed my face and decided to go back. But before I could, I realized that Y/N would be spending some time with me and would need her necessities. So before leaving, I packed two full-sized travel bags with her clothes, electronics, footwears, toiletries and sanitation products; anything I deemed necessary for day-to-day living.

Soon, I left the apartment with the bags to go back to Y/N.

---

"Seb?"

I looked up from my book as Y/N sat up, yawning and clutching her head. "Y/N, the results came back, you're going to be fine," I told her happily, sitting down next to her. "Really?" A smile bloomed on her face. "Yes! Dr Greenwood said you didn't swallow too much poison and that you will most likely excrete the amount you swallowed." She nodded.

"That's great news! I'm glad he brought one of those cheap poisons instead of the deadly ones," she giggled. Just his mention made my temper snap. "Oh, don't even talk about that jerk," I snarled, "I took care of him last night and now he won't be bothering you anymore."

She blinked at me. "You killed him, didn't you?" she deadpanned and I blushed. "I mean— I didn't—" I stammered but gave up when she raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I killed him," I muttered, looking at my lap. When she placed her hand on my cheek, I turned to look. "I'm not mad at you. Bitch had it coming."

I burst out laughing at her word choice, which made her smile, too. All of a sudden, she leaped up and wrapped her arms around my neck, catching my lips in a kiss. I stopped laughing and put my arms around her waist, kissing back. Had this just happened? Was she kissing me?

"I love you, Sebastian," she murmured upon pulling away, straddling my lap. I kept the book away and pulled her closer. "Really? I love you, too." She snorted. "Kinda obvious, you killed a man for me. I wasn't going to make a move on you but now I'm sure."

"Hm, my intelligent sweetheart," I grinned, leaning forward to kiss her again. The problem was solved and all was well. "What are your plans for the day?" she asked me, trailing a finger down my face, jaw, neck and chest. "Hm, don't have any," I smirked, pulling her closer.

"Wanna stay and… have some fun?"

"Boy, do I?"

Y/N laughed loudly as I flipped us over, laying down on top of her. Her laughs soon transitioned into moans as I attacked her neck and jaw with kisses.

We did have fun.

A lot of it.

A bit too much of it.

But who cares?

I was finally with the love of my life and everything was good.

---

A/N: Leave a like if you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan characters #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

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writingakyeo · 3 years

Text

𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒐 𝑩𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒏 𝑾𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓

Words count: 10k

REQUEST IS OPEN

Pairings: Dean x reader, Sam x Platonic reader, Crowley x reader.

Characters: Dean, Sam, Reader, Crowley

Warning: Angst, fluff, typos, English grammar

Request: @lightjenvlp Hi! Could you maybe please do Dean Winchester x reader request where the reader comes backs to the bunker after a solo hunt and she's injured ( however you want), and Dean is really concerned and takes care of her/you. Hope you enjoy it.

A/N: this is the first request and fanfic in this Tumblr acc. And I'm warning you about my English and my grammar. Hope you enjoy it guys.

Dean POV.

I hold her hand and caressing it. I look at her and sigh. Y/N got bruises all over her face, her chest, and head wrapped in a bandage. A tub run down on her throat as machines surrounded her. It was silent the only noise was the sound of the heart monitor. I take a shuddering breath and bit my lip. I couldn't take her seeing as this and I should know that this would end up like this. This is my fault if I didn't allow her to hunt alone this wouldn't happen.

" you know this ain't your fault, Dean so stops beating yourself, you know Y/N would practically hit you in the face if you keep blaming yourself. "

" I know Sam but I couldn't help myself. I don't want to get her hurt and now look. I think I failed her, and failed her father." Y/N Singer is the daughter of Bobby Singer. We met when the day dad dropped us at Bobby. I didn't know that Bobby had a daughter, but that was another day to tell. We were so close till now that we mistakenly a couple.

Through the years that we've been together, I don't want to admit but I am falling in love with Y/n L/n Singer. I don't know how to hold this but I was afraid that it would ruin the friendship we had. And I don't want it to happen.

" Dean says it out, I know you love Y/N -"

I snap out my thoughts and look at my brother, I gave him confuse then glare at him. I saw him rolling his eyes and I crossed arm

" Dean your so obvious, everybody knows that you have feelings for her, and we let you do your ways but as the year's come you haven't told her. Come on dude, I know you're afraid that you'll get rejected but you don't have to 'cause-"

Third Point of View

Sam stop when the machines start to alarm started to go off. Dean looks up to the monitor and his eyes widen. The Winchester stood up and their faces are full of panic and worriedness. Dean held his breath as he tried to calm down but it failed when a nurse came and place her finger on her neck to feel her pulse.

" what's going on!- Hey can someone tell me what's going on" Dean yell. Sam was started to pull him away as the doctors and nurses swarm on the room.

" Dean I think we should get out, the doctor's are trying to keep her alive... Dean comes on. " Dean was fighting off the strong arms from his brother. He wanted to stay with her but couldn't. " please let go of me, Sam! I have to see her. I have to. She needs me! She needs me!"

Dean didn't realize that he was now on the outside of her room. He still insists of wanted to get inside her room but his knees already buckle down. He didn't realize a strong arm wrapped on his shoulder and comforting words coming from his brother. " De, Y/N will be okay. She won't give up you know it. Everything will be alright..."

Everything will be alright...

Everything will be alright.

Everything will be alright

A few hours earlier.

Dean fidgeting his finger as he walks back and forth. He knows something is off but he couldn't tell what it is.

" dude calms down, Y/n will be just fine. She will come here anytime soon. " Sam cackle and continue reading the book. He was amused to see his brother become a lovesick puppy dog.

The eldest Winchester glared at his little brother and rolled eyes. " oh come on Sam you think y/n is the that I'm worried off" Dean sat on the chair as he looks up to Sam. Sam, on the other hand, gives him bitch face. " really Dean, come on ever since Y/n went to Florida to hunt a banshee which is four days ago. Your moody and agitated. Which is normal when y/n is away from the solo hunt. "

Dean wanted to say something for his defense but he was speechless. He avoided the look of his brother and the smirk that probably make him scowl. Sam chuckle and continue to read as his smirk never leaves on his lip. " Dean and his lovesick love story." He muttered.

After that little argument, the bunker becomes quiet. Dean went to his room and came back with his shotgun. He sat back and start cleaning the shotgun. Though he knows that he already cleans it but he wanted to do something much productive.

The door opens and the Winchester quickly grab their guns and wait for the intruders to face them. They all heard grunting and groaning which is the Winchester we're confused.

" Sam....dea..." A muffled sound but it makes Dean start to run in the stairs like a mad man. Sam was confused but later on, he realizes that it was Y/n who was probably hurt from the hunt. Sam followed his brother and his eyes widen to see her bloody and almost passed out.

When Dean got there, he was shocked to see her bloody and broken. There was blood coated on her hand, blood on her forehead and when he looks down he saw her abdomen bloody. Y/n was about to collapse but Dean holds her preventing her from collapsing.

" what the hell y/n, I know this is what happened now look at you?! Dean panicked voice was heard

" I'm fine De- " she stops as she winces and yelled out of pain. " no your not, Sam go get the kit and basin ready," Dean ordered Sam.

" Dean I think Y/n needs to go to the hospital this is beyond stitching her wound. . She needs medical attention. " Sam emphasizes. Dean glared at him and then he looks at Y/n's state. He bit his lip as he realizes how much blood loss she had. He hates to admit but his brother is alright.

"You're right. We gotta bring her to the hospital. " Dean agreed to Sam. Y/n was about to decline but the pain is taking a toll on her. As if the adrenaline wears off and she finally feels the pain over her body.

Then she felt weak and disoriented. Her legs are no longer supported as she buckles down. Dean was quick to hold her closer before she passed out. " hey Y/n stay awake dammit, Sam get my keys " Sam didn't argue as he sprints back to get the keys.

Dean put her down on the floor and he ripped off the shirt then wrapped it on her wound. He adds pressure on it. He wanted to stop the blood from flowing so that blood loss could be prevented. " Stay awake, n/n." He pleads

Y/n look at him and smile weakly as she starts gasping for air. She grips his shoulder as wince to feel pain all over her body. " everything will be alright, Deanie... Everything is alright. Lo-" She slowly closed her eyes and didn't continue wanted to say

" Y/N HEY!" He checked her pulse and sigh in relief as he felt a weak pulse.

" SAM FASTER WE NEED Y/N TO GO HOSPITAL IMMEDIATELY..."

Present

Dean managed to calm down and with the help of his brother, Dean stood up as if nothing happened. The brothers didn't know what to do as they could hear orders and machines crazy around as they tried to resuscitate y/n.

Five minutes turn to ten and they couldn't hear any news from the doctor. Dean is already panicking and Sam was there to comfort his brother. In this situation, one of them needs to be a strong one to keep them calm.

Another minute went by and the doctor finally came and he was warily tired and his eyes tell something is wrong. The Winchester knew something is wrong but Dean was in denial and didn't want to hear any words coming from the doctor.

" I'm sorry but we tried everything we couldn't. But Y/n heart already stops as we tried to revive. I'm sorry for your loss. " the doctor leaves the brothers who are shocked to hear the news. There no brother who has teary eyes.

" It's fault" Dean whisper as he chokes in tears. " dammit it's a fault!" He yells out then he breaks down.

" Dean. Hey, calm down.."

" Dean... Hey...."

Dean look at his brother who's is shaking his shoulder.

" DEAN!"

Dean jolted as he wakes up from nightmarish. He looks around and he could tell, he was still in the hospital, and Y/n lying on the bed, peacefully sleeping and no longer tubes around her face, not the machines that keep him frightened.

" Dean your alright?"

" Yeah, Sam I am fine." He ignores the worried look coming from his brother and looks at her. The dream he had was so real that he didn't want to leave his sight of her. He was scared that y/n will leave him and never come back.

Sam shook his head and decide to drop the subject knowing it would end up for nowhere.

An hour later, Sam leaves the room to get food and freshen up leaving Dean alone in the room. Dean clasps her hand and kisses it tenderly. He did love her, no doubt. Even how many girls he makes out, Y/n is the only one who makes him feel loves and crazy at someone.

Y/n moves his finger and it startled Dean. He stood up and he could see y/n slowly flutter her eyelids. " come on n/n" he begged.

Eventually, y/n opened her eyes and was so confused about how she ended up here but then she remembers the hunt that didn't go well.

" y/n you're awake. " Dean smile to see her finally woke up a week later.

" no doofus, I'm dead." A sarcastic reply as Dean chuckles and smiles. " I'm in the hospital, aren't I?" She asked which Dean nodded. " yeah, your badly hurt and -" then frankly he remembered the nightmare he had as to how close he almost lost her.

" I'm sorry," the two sick lovebirds said in unison. Which earns heartily chuckles from both of them. " ain't your fault Dean. It's my fault. " Y/n insist. " I should listen to you but hey ain't my first time to hunt solo"

Dean rolled eyes and sigh. " it's mine ok, I shouldn't let you hunt alone. I promised your father but how could I resist that devilish puppy eyes of yours. " he jokes. Dean didn't want to tell her how worried he was when she almost died in his arms.

"Deanie please stop joking around, you know I can't laugh hard cause I'm in pain," she said as she is between laughing and groaning.

Dean was about to say something when a nurse and a doctor came and they check on her stats. It took them a few moments before they leave.

The rest of the morning, Dean and Y/n about the hunt and stuff that happened a few weeks ago. Both of them talk as if nothing happened as the conversations become normal to them.

Their eyes shine up just like the stars and both of them are not aware that they are still holding hands. Dean care takes care of her the whole time whilst Y/n trying to decline all the time as she stubbornly wanted to do her own but failed to do so. If you didn't know them, you seem to think they are an old married couple.

They are not aware that they are both have the same feelings. That they are too afraid to confess to feeling. Afraid that they will get rejection or afraid that they will hurt if they are a couple.

They both aware if they let it out of what they feel, it would be the enemy's advantage and use them. Especially in Dean's situation where he has many enemies that wanted I'm to be killed.

The two aren't aware that Sam stood outside and shooting his head. " this two suck at love. " Sam startled as he saw Crowly just pop out. Sam rolled her eyes. " for once I agreed. " Crowley smirked " I give $50 bucks if Dean confessed at the end of this month. " the king of hell says.

Right as the two who stubbornly not telling their feelings, it's become a bet for everyone who knows them includes Sam and the king of hell " right. Go ahead. Now the $290 is up" Sam mutter as he now went inside the room.

A/N: Thank you! Reblog and vote, please. 😚 again request is open.

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #crowley #dean winchester x reader #sam x platonic reader #jensen ackles #reader #Dean

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erisfiles · 4 years

Text

The Emperor

CHAPTER 4

IG - @kingsbtsffs / Tumblr - @prince13jimin-kingsbtsffs

characters : “The 7 Dragons” Emperors; Min Yoongi, Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin, Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jungkook. Ahn Y/n. Bang Hyunsik. Soo Jaemin

cameos : Prince Park Jihyun (Emperor Jimin’s younger brother) , Jeon Junghyun (Emperor Jungkook’s older brother, the general of his military, Jung Jiwoo (Emperor Hoseok’s older sister, his advisor), and Cha Eunwoo (a soldier of the Kim’s empire)

word count : 7.4K

Warnings for this chapter : mention of nudity and sex, mention of pushing and slapping someone, a boner, groping, grinding, palming, intense make out session, scenes leading to sex 18+

Rate : 18+ M

genre : fluff, angst, smut, action, emperor au

Author’s note: I forgot to mention their age……..

Seokjin is the same age as Yoongi and everybody else is the same age as they are in real life. Y/N is the same age as Taehyung and Jimin

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I forgot to mention their age……..Seokjin is the same age as Yoongi and everybody else is the same age as they are in real life . Y/N is the same age as Taehyung and Jimin. Also “The 7” is boring for an ally name so I changed it into “The 7 Dragons” . I know you didn’t read the author’s note ;) HAHAHA

Chapter 4

Y/N POV / 1st POV

I felt my eyes flutter open, the beam of the sun immediately making me squint and turn the other way, not wanting to get up. I sighed, the heat of the sun on my back immediately making me feel warm in contrast to the chilly autumn weather. I sat up feeling confused, holding the silk sheets up to my chest, feeling chilly. I rubbed my eyes, trying to rub away my blurry vision. Looking around I saw no one else in the room, as I moved my eyes around the room everything glistened. The room was decorated with gold furniture, a portrait of the present three Kim Emperors was hung up on the wall with golden borders along with a portrait of their late parents above them, only with a slightly bigger frame. I looked at my friends’ portrait again, the familiar red string around Jin’s and Namjoon’s wrist made me smile, looking down on my wrist I admired the red string wrapped around it.

The sliding doors to my room suddenly opened, startling me, making my grip on the sheets tighter to my chest. I looked at who it could’ve been, possibly Seokjin or Namjoon, but it was a stranger making me feel more frightened. The man offered me a boxy smile, and took one step into the room without closing the doors, making me feel at a little more ease. “My brothers have requested for your presence, Y/N.” I looked at the man again trying to read his body language, only to see a calm, honest man with a bubbly personality. Brothers?

I continued looking at the odd, yet handsome young man. He grinned at my expression seeming as if he knew what I was thinking. “Oh! I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself, for like the hundredth time. I know you just came back from the farm the other day (referring to Chapter 2) after you and Namjoon hyung dealt with the lieutenant.” The man never stopped smiling, making me feel a little flustered. “Ah! Yes, my apologies for holding you back. My brothers are waiting for you at the pagoda near the lake.” The stranger then stepped back out of my room with a pout on his face, making him look even more cute than he already was before. “I never liked that lieutenant anyway, but they never listen to me because I am the youngest. Hmph. Whatever.”

Before he closed the doors and smiled at me, “You’re very adorable, Y/N. Also, no need to cover yourself up too much, the silk is already kind of outlining your cherries. See you later!” with that came a loud shut of the doors with the sound of footsteps disappearing as he got further away from my Hanok. What just happened. Fuck, how can he apologize for not introducing himself but doesn’t even introduce himself. And my cherries? I don't even have any fruit in my room. What an odd, confusing man. A handsome, odd, confusing man. I shook my head still in the midst of waking up. I looked at the floor near the melting candle only to see 5 screws on the floor, it’s only 5am. I grunted and layed down again feeling more tired than ever, cursing Seokjin and Namjoon in my head for having someone, a stranger even, to wake me up.

They can wait a few more minutes. I closed my eyes trying to remember the features of the handsome man that had woken me a few moments ago. I remember his brown eyes and the mole on his nose. I remember seeing a gold emblem on his bandana, across his forehead but my memory was a blurring everything but his face. Hm I wonder if he already has a consort. But cherries, what did he mean. Wait did he mean...my nipples?! I opened my eyes and sat up quickly, looking down seeing my nipples poking through the silk sheet. I gasped in shock, they were poking through the sheets due to the cold. That guy was a pervert! I scoffed, “Of course. Men only want to get in your pants this dynasty.” I got off my bed and started to put on my hanbok to meet up with Namjoon and Seokjin. I reminisce about the events that have happened for the past two weeks, wondering if Emperor Yoongi was waiting for my arrival. Bastard, he’s probably not even worried for me.

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I stepped down from my horse and gave it to the guard that was in front of the entrance. I turned to the side and saw Namoon already in his armor with a smile on his face, offering his arm for me to take. I smiled back at him and encircled our arms together, my hand wrapped around his bicep. I chuckled, “Is this your way of trying to present me as your consort, Emperor Namjoon?” Namjoon laughed at my question, eyes disappearing into slits, “In your dreams, missy.” I chuckled remembering oh how I missed him and his jokes, yet intelligent remarks to everything. I frowned, remembering the event at the farm, now I am at the palace, today possibly determining Eunwoo’s verdict and punishment. I looked at him noticing his sunken, swollen eyes and skinny figure. A moment of slice fell between us as we continued walking on the way to the back of the palace to the pagoda. I cleared my throat, attempting to clear the tension in air, side eyeing him to see his expression only for it not to falter

“Hey, listen, I can convince Seokjin to let go of Eunwoo. I might have mistaken Eunwoo and his da-”

“The evidence was there Y/N. Don’t worry about me, I am an Emperor. I have no need to feel any sort of emotion for a tyrant who betrayed his own Emperor, his own people. I feel no sympathy for those types of people.”

I looked at him, worried for his emotional and mental state. I stopped walking, my arm still encircled with his, startling him as my grip had pulled him back. He turned to my direction, I felt saddened as he couldn’t look me in the eye, instead focusing his gaze on something else behind me. “Just because you’re an emperor does not mean you need to lack emotion. He was one of your closest friends, someone who understood you and listened to your military tactics. It is understandable that the pain you’re feeling is something you choose not to show. Just like me, I know he was a part of your childhood too. We’re in our mid-twenties and we can’t run away from what we feel as people forever.” Even though his gaze was not on me, I had seen his eyes glisten more in the sun as tears welled up, witnessing him keep his stern, not blinking, refusing for them to fall down his cheeks.

“Losing someone...losing someone hurts but that doesn’t mean you should lose yourself as well, Joon.”

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I continued walking to the pagoda, remembering how I left Namjoon based on his request. I stopped in the middle of the stone path admiring the flowers and the trees, also noticing the guards standing at their posts, except for one that was empty, Eunwoo’s. I sighed and continued along the path. I started thinking of what can happen if they had chosen to execute Eunwoo and his dad, who also happened to be citizens of the Bang Empire, finding out from the book of immigrants. No wonder they had always left during the summer, they would go back and then return here starting autumn. A war...a possible war between The 7 Dragons against the Bang Empire and the Soo Empire. I felt my arm hairs rise as I imagined the damage that can be done to Korea and the blood that will be shed if it were to happen. I shivered in the slightest remembering when my family and I had to move to the Min Empire from the Kim Empire when I was a kid.

A hand gripped my shoulder, turning me around. I looked at the owner's hand and saw Namjoon, his eyes red and face a little swollen. “You cried…” Namjoon chuckled lowly, nodding his head, not afraid of telling the truth. “Listen, I am sorry. I never told you beforehand. I am so sorry. You’re my best friend, heck, I hired you as a personal spy for the allies. I hired you because I trust you. I should’ve trusted you, I should never put my hands on a woman. You’re my best friend before you are my spy.” Namjoon started tearing up again, except this time he had let his tears fall endlessly down his face, not bothering to care how he had looked in front of me. I smiled bitterly, remembering how he had harshly pushed me and almost slapped me. I put my arms around his shoulder and hugged him tight.

“It’s okay. I know I have your trust. Never in my life would I trade it for anything else. Never. Plus, even if you did slap me, I would’ve kicked you where the sun doesn’t shine.” I chuckled, joking around with him to try to enlighten the mood.

“But I saw how frightened you were. I saw the fear, Y/N. I know that look. I’ve seen it before.”

I pulled away from him, cupping his face and wiping his tears. He leaned into my touch, crying silently, “You remind me of mum.” I smiled at his comment and pulled him into a hug again, letting him cry onto my shoulder. “I’m your best friend, of course I’m going to care for you like family. Don’t worry about me too much.”

“Ehem.”

Namjoon and I pulled away from the hug looking at the direction of the person who had interrupted our moment. “I want a hug too.” Seokjin pouted like the man baby he was. I chuckled and shook my head walking past him into the pagoda, hearing him whine more as I just had ignored him. In the pagoda layed a round table with 8 chairs, unique with its own colors. My curiosity got the best of me, why were there 8 when there’s only 3 of us? I looked back at Namjoon and Seokjin whispering amongst themselves, stealing glances at me from time to time. I rolled my eyes at their childish behavior. Nothing has changed, I smiled to myself.

I sat on the white chair, which was placed in between a black chair accented with rainbow specs to the right of me and a black chair with accents of gold to the left of me. As I sat down, I heard birds chirping all around me, flying from one tree to another, preparing to migrate because of seasonal changes. Ths red, orange, and yellow leaves dance from side to side as the wind is guiding them through the air. I listened to the whistle of the wind, imagining that the music was from someone playing a bamboo flute in mid-autumn. Hearing the leaves on the ground rustle my thoughts went to my parents, I felt worried as I have been gone for more than a week when I am usually only gone for a few days. I closed my eyes as I knew I was going to break down when thinking of my ill father.

“Y/N?”

I stood up, quickly blinking my tears away. I faced the direction of the person who had called me. “Emperor Jimin!” I quickly went down on my knees, respectfully to him, scratching my knees in the process as the habok didn’t protect my knees. “Y/N…” I stood up quickly, the feeling of nervousness taking over me as I tried my best avoiding his gaze. I slightly nod my head in response to the call of my name, never have I wanted to run away from someone until now. “I’m still your friend, Y/N. You can look at me. You’re not a servant of mine...I mean, you do work for me as a spy as well, no?” I still did not look into his eyes, fearing that . They looked dull, lacking the happiness it had shown before. The guilt had almost eaten me alive at that instant, noticing the damage I had done to him. I’m the reason why he’s like this. I chuckled lightly to myself, the irony of it all that is. I’m supposed to be helping the emperors maintain the peace, happiness, and equality in this dynasty, but here I was standing in front of the man whose heart I had broken, countless times.

“지민씨! I see you’ve met Y/N!” I looked behind him and saw the handsome stranger form this morning. “Actually, this is not the first time I’ve met hair. I’d say I know her fairly well. I felt the blood rushing up to my face as I remembered the words he had said, rather boldly, to me the last time him and I were together. Remembering the handsome stranger was here, I unconsciously crossed my arms, covering my chest as I saw his eyes diverge away from my eyes, looking downwards. I glared at the stranger, no longer being able to withhold my anger. “야아! 당신은 오늘 아침부터 변태였어요. 당신은 믿을 수 없군요!” Everyone’s attention was now on me, as I started yelling at the…handsome stranger.

“Namjoon!”

I saw him hurriedly run towards me, worry written all over his face. I hid behind the tall man, cowering with embarrassment. “He was the asshole pervert from this morning! I am not asking for your permission, but I am letting you know I will beat his ass one day! Just because he is good looking does not mean he can do whatever he wants”

“Y/N, I am not going to let you beat up Taehyung.”

I scoffed and crossed my arms, not believing what he had just said. “And why is that?”

“Because he’s the brother I was talking about that you had yet to meet.”

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3RD POV

Y/N sat down between Namjoon and an empty chair. She looked around the table, the three Kim Emperors and Emperor Jimin, who was stealing glances from time to time as he was talking to the youngest of the Kim’s; Taehyung. Y/N looked down and wanted to cry of embarrassment remembering the event that had happened not too long ago. She had just met Taehyung who so happened to be the brother Namjoon and Seokjin was talking about, who so happened to be the youngest of the three. She remembered him chuckling at her when she had suddenly bowed to him the moment Namjoon had told her he was his brother, putting the pieces together that he too was an emperor.

“Heyo! Hoseok is here! That’s right. THE man is here. Now, bow down, peasants.” Hoseok walked in the pagoda with a huge smile on his face, announcing his presence. Y/N chuckled at the silliness he didn’t fail to show every time he presented himself. “형, why do you always forget how to act like the emperor you are? Plus, where are the others?” Jimin asked Hoseok thinking that he would know. Hoseok shrugged ignoring his little insult, and not caring for where the others were, making Jimin scoffed but nonetheless slightly smiled at his older friend’s response but nor forgetting his rebuttal.

“I’m surprised you are early in this meeting.”

Jimin rolled his eyes at Hoseok, even though he knew what he had said was true, pouting in the end looking at Taehyung to say something in his defense, who just kept his mouth shut.

“Sorry for being late! I woke up late, I had training with my hyung last night which lasted until sunrise.” The youngest of the allies entered the pagoda, his panting evident from running. He looked at the unknown girl, introducing himself. “Hello, I am Emperor Jungkook of the Jeon Empire.” Y/N stood up from her chair bowing down to the emperor before her, mentally cursing this dynasty for having so many emperors and empires. She stood up once again once she had heard the legs of the chair scraping against the wooden floor as Jungkook sat down on his purple chair.

It felt as if time was going slow to Y/N as she sat around the table, surrounded by the most powerful emperors of the dynasty, though one was missing. Y/N looked at the empty chair beside him, wondering what had kept him late, who kept him busy. She doesn’t remember the last time she had seen him. However, she remembered the way she had made him smile once. She remembered how he had taken care of her, even though he had a cold demeanor. That’s what she loves about him, or so she thought. Y/N felt an intense gaze burning through her skull. She looked up and saw Jimin, the man she was in love with.

Everyone around the table was chattering nonsense, leaving the serious conversation and issue to be addressed later. Y/N sat quietly as she was left in her own thoughts, snapping out of them when someone had called her name and included her in a conversation. The sound of thunder and the falling of the rain had interrupted their moment of joy. Namjoon, confused just like everyone else, looked at one of his guards, “That’s weird. I didn’t see a ring around the moon these past 7 days.” The guard, confused as well, “I did not witness one either, my emperor.”

The 6 men groaned and complained how the meeting should’ve already started but they were only waiting for one more important figure. The crack of a thunder had made everyone jolt in their seats, the rain noticeable getting harder, the sudden breeze making everyone shiver in their seats. Footsteps climbing up the stairs of the pagoda were left unheard, the figure coming into view once they had stepped out of the rain and into the shelter of the pagoda.

“I apologize for being late.”

Y/N glared at him, bowing down to him, immediately questioning him once she stood up from her vulnerable stance. “What kept you late, Emperor Min? Or should I say whom?” Y/N didn’t know why she cared, she knew she shouldn’t. It was none of her business. She saw Jimin from the corner of her eyes looking down, fiddling with his fingers. The other men’s attention now on her and Yoongi's eyes filled with curiosity. Her focus went back to the man she was questioning, the one looking vulnerable, the only person who she was never afraid of despite the rumours about him.

“I went looking for you.”

Y/N’s eyes widened looking up at him, not being able to utter a word, complete in shock. “Yoongi, nice for you to drop by.” With the tone of Seokjin’s tone, everyone knew the elders had been impatient, being quiet as they had been waiting for his arrival. Yoongi nodded his head in understanding his tone. He grasped Y/N’s wrist, catching her by surprise, dragging her to the direction of their seats. Jimin glared at the two as they walked passed him feeling uneasy at the sight of them close to each other. Seokjin stopped as the two sat down, “Well? Let’s have the meeting start, shall we?”

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Y/N’s eyes widened in fear, looking at the mapo laid out on the table. “Emperor Bang…” She was surprised at how far he had expanded his empire in korea. “He is taking land that isn’t his. He took a part of our land when we were kids, it’s time we take it back. It would be what father wanted.” Namjoon looked at Y/N, knowing what she was thinking. He looked at Seokjin smiling, “Seokjin hyung, Y/N can finally move back in our empire.” Seokjin smiled liking what the latter had said, he smiled even wider. “Or Y/N can just move into our palace! She’s one of you officials anyway.” Namjoon high fived his older brother, both of them smiling to the thought of their best friend permanently living with them.

“No.”

Namjoon and Seokjin furrowed their eyebrows, confused.”What do you mean, ‘no?’” The man looked at the two of them tilting his head the slightest. Seokjin and Namjoon couldn’t help but stare at his right eye, where the scar was. It ran from the middle of his forehead eyebrow straight down to the middle of his cheek. His scar was not that deep, his right eye still perfectly intact. Nonetheless, Seokjin and Namjoon would never admit that they were slightly afraid of him. “Yeah, I said no.” Namjoon grew irritated by his friend, pushing Y/N behind him and taking a step closer to Yoongi. “What do you mean, hyung? She is not your property. You don’t speak for her.”

Yoongi smirked in response, slightly chuckling at the man in front of him and his foolishness. His gaze shifted to the vulnerable girl behind him, looking down on the floor. Yoongi knew what was going through her head. “She is merely just not a spy.” Namjoon looked at Yoongi questioning his statement, waiting for him to continue. “She is also…” Y/N looked up at Yoongi silently pleading not to tell the truth, at least not when Jimin is here. Yoongi chuckled at her appearance, “...my advisor. She is needed more in my Empire, Namjoon. The people only listened when she was there.” Namjoon scoffed, in disbelief of his reasoning. “Ask Y/N who she’d rather be with.”

All the attention was now on Y/N, making her feel uneasy and nervous, all their piercing gazes on her. “Listen! Let’s talk about that matter later! We need to focus on what’s important. Bang is expanding his territory into yours. We need to take it back, war may occur, who knows. What’s more important is that winter is coming. We will have less resources compared to any other season.” Jimin nodded, agreeing with her, along with the other people around the table. Y/N sighed in relief as the attention was no longer on her.Her gaze fell on Yoongi, in relief that he didn’t say anything further. Meanwhile, Jimin’s gaze had remained on her knowing Yoongi was hiding something about Y/N. Him breaking his gaze on her once he thought someone caught him.

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“Alright, we’ll have another meeting tomorrow. I suggest all of you stay in the palace. The amount of rooms is more than enough. You are pleased to stay in whatever wing of the palace you feel is comfortable.” Seokjin concluded the meeting, the first one to leave the pagoda and into the palace, possibly to wash up and then go straight to bed as the moon was high in the sky. Everyone else had stood up and began leaving. Y/N stood up from her chair, ignoring Yoongi’s presence. As she neared the steps down the pagoda, so did Jimin. Y/N had felt a hand graze against her hand, looking down she saw Jimin’s hand near hers. He smiled brightly at her, interlocking their pinkies together for a few seconds before letting go. However, the man behind them was not too happy to witness it.

Y/N walked behind the seven emperors, entering into the palace. “I suggest we all have dinner in an hour, my friends. We will meet in the dining room once everyone has settled in comfortably.” The three Kim brothers walked to their own chambers, with the rest of the boys doing the same. Y/N walked to her room, she stripped herself from her clothes wanting to scrub off possible grime and dirt she had gotten on herself.

Y/N laid in the bathtub, candles surrounding her, illuminating the room while also giving her warmth from the autumn cold. She closed her eyes, feeling her body relax as she sunk her body further in the water. She furrowed her eyebrows, remembering the hurt expression Jimin had worn when he first saw her in the beginning of the meeting. She felt sick to her stomach at the thought of hurting him, hurting anyone. A few knocks to her door made her stray away from her thoughts. “Who is it?” Y/N wondered who could be knocking at the door before dinner. “It’s Jimin.”

Y/N thought for a while, hesitating.

“You can come in.”

The door slid open, revealing Jimin in his hanbok, sliding the door closed after stepping in. Y/N didn’t fail to notice him locking the door. Y/N smirked sitting up in the tub, her long hair covering her chest. She grew confused as to why he was here when dinner was going to start. “Hey. I uh...wanted to see you. Seokjin hyung had told us to stay here for a couple more days for planning.” Y/N nodded, slightly happy that she will see him a little more often for a couple days. Possibly, she can fix her mistake. “Why are you taking a bath at this hour?” Jimin crouched down near her naked figure in the tub, his hand cupping her cheek, gently stroking it as they looked each other in the eyes. “Is it wrong for a lady to treat herself to a relaxing bath?”

2ND POV

You stood up from the tub, seeing Jimin’s cheeks turn red as his eyes fell on your naked body. You got out of the tub, grabbing your silk robe, gifted from Namjoon and Seokjin, going behind your shoji screen to put it on. Jimin watched your figure on the other side, the candle outlining every curve of your body, your breasts, and your ass. Jimin couldn’t help but felt his hanbok tighten at the moment. “Fuck.” He whispered to himself, looking down at his boner.

You came from behind your shoji screen, only wearing the silk robe which outlined your hard nipples. Jimin licked his lips at the sight of you, not caring if you saw his boner. You walked towards him, swaying your hips on purpose, smirking as soon as you saw his boner, but deciding to tease him further. “What did you come here for?” You put your hands on his chest, guiding him to sit down on your bed. Once he sat down, his eyes traced back to the outline of your nipples, lickig his lips once again. You looked at his tongue, peeking out his lips, then gliding it against his thick, plump lips. The sight of his red tongue, making you wetter by the second. “Hey! My eyes are up here.” You snapped your fingers in front of his face, snapping him out of his trance.

Jimin unconsciously put his hands on your hips pulling you closer, placing you in between his legs. “Yeah, I know. But I couldn’t help but stare at you.” Y/N felt flustered, avoiding his gaze as he took his lips in between his teeth, biting down on them. His hands roamed up to your waist, his hands still going up until his hands grazed against the sides of your breasts. You shivered at his touch, enjoying it as you have not seen him in weeks. He leaned closer,looking into your eyes as he kissed your exposed cleavage. You sighed in satisfaction and threw your head back, running your hands through his hair gently.

Jimin hugged you by the waist, encircling his arms around you, resting his chin on your chest while staring up at you. “I’ve missed you.” You looked down on him with adoration in your eyes, feeling your heart flutter mumbling, “I’ve missed you more.” He caressed your back, his attention now on your protruding lips. You noticed his gaze focusing on your lips, you looked at his lips in return having the sudden urge to kiss him, to feel him.

You felt him pulling you even closer, you felt his breath fan over your lips, closing your eyes, you waited for him to make the first move.

IF YOU DO NOT LIKE SMUT IN ANY SHAPE OR FORM PLEASE STOP READING HERE AND SKIP TO “SMUT STOPS HERE”

His soft lips then came into contact with yours softly. Your lips moving sync with another, savoring the moment that both of you have been longing for, craving each other's touch. You felt his wet muscle slight graze against your bottom lip, asking for entrance. Your lips staying shit, teasing him. His right hand sliding down to your ass, his left sliding to the form of your body and up to your right boob, squeezing them at the same time making you gasp. He used this opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth. He took your bottom lip in between his, sucking on it. He grabbed your jaw, holding your mouth open as he slid his tongue in, you closed your mouth around his wet muscles and sucked on it, going up and down, making him groan, imagining how you would suck in his cock. Tongues swirling against each other, making you moan, feeling clit pulsating by the second, longing for him to touch you there.

You broke the kiss, saliving connecting the both of you from your kiss. You looked into his eyes, seeing love and lust, his delicious thick lips even more swollen than before. Grabbing the sides of his face, you pecked his lips lightly giggling, making him giggle as well. You straddled his lap capturing his lips in a kiss once again. You felt his hands creep down to your ass, squeezing them, receiving a moan from you. You broke the short kiss, pushing him down on the silk sheets, smashing your lips on his, forcing your tongue inside his mouth wanting to be the dominant one straddling him once more. His hands went up and down your sides, caressing your waist, squeezing it once in a while.

You broke away from his lips, trailing your kisses to his jaw down to the space to where his neck and shoulder meet. You kissed his pulmonary vein, licking from the base of his neck to his jaw line receiving a loud groan from him. You sucked and bit on his neck, his hands squeezing your hips as he hissed in pleasure and in pain. His hands grabbing the hem of your robe pulling them up until it was up to your waist, revealing your ass and your pussy. You continued painting his neck, his boner poking your inner thigh. You moved your hips down, grinding hard against his boner, you sighed in pleasure as your clit caused friction against his hanbok, which also happened to be made of silk.

“Fuck, baby. Do that again.” He quietly groaned against your neck. You sucked on his neck harder, humming against it as you grinded on his cock once again, your clit grinding against the fabric of his clothes, you felt yourself shiver from the immense pleasure you were feeling, moaning louder as he grinded up against your clit. He suddenly put his hands on your shoulders, softly pushing you away. He pushed you down on the mattress, him now on top of you. Looking at your messed up state, he chuckled. Seeing your swollen lips, ches going up and down as you tried to get your breathing even, still affected from the makeout session and sucking in his sweet neck.

He took off his vest, unbuttoning the traditional long sleeve, leaving him shirtless before you. The candles outlining his chest and his fit stomach making you lick your lips in anticipation. He grabbed your legs, putting them around his hips, your legs automatically locking him in. He untied your robe, pulling them to the side, revealing your breasts. His mouth watered at the sight, completely appalled by your beauty. He leaned down giving you a hard kiss, holding your arms above your head with one hand as he kissed down your chest.

You looked down at him, seeing him kiss your breast, sucking on it, painting it with his hickeys. You whined as he kept kissing around your nipple, being impatient. He kept teasing you until you felt him grope your breast and lick a stripe against your nipple, moaning in satisfaction. You looked down on him devouring your nipple, feeling yourself get wet by the sight, grinding up against him, feeling the outline of his hard cock making you want more. He chuckled in satisfaction before abusing your other nipple, licking, sucking, nibbling on it while keeping his eyes on you, alternating between each breast. He loves it. He loves you writhing under his body in complete satisfaction.

He pulled away from your nipple with a pop, leaning away from you, your faces only inches away from each other, as your eyes were focused on him waiting for his next move. “What do you say princess? Do you want to go even further?” With a quiet whimper, you nodded your head, your mind fuzzy, not focused on anything but wanting to feel his body against yours. Jimin chickled, slightly grinding against you making you moan, your eyebrows furrowed, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip.

Jimin dipped down, putting his tongue in your wet cavern, absolutely enjoying the taste of your mouth on his. He hummed against your lips, his legs adjusting your legs around his waist before painfully grinding up and down slowly against your pussy, steadying your position with your hands on his shoulder.. Jimin smirked seeing you enjoying it, looking down he saw a wet patch against his pants. “It seems like you're already dripping, princess. You stained my pants.” You felt your face heat up, his grinding did not stop. You slightly smirked, your hands travelled down his body

You dipped your hands in his pants, gripping his hard cock in your hands. With lidded eyes, he groaned feeling your cold hands around him. Jimin slightly smirked in return, trailing his hands down to your pulsating clit. You started to rub your hands up and down, your thumb running over the slit of his cock. “Fuck, princess. Just how I like it. Don’t you ever leave my sight ever again.” Jimin ran his fingers down your slit, collecting your witness on the tip of his fingers, lightly brushing against your clit making you moan lightly. He looked into your eyes as he brought his hands up and in his mouth, licking your wetness from his mouth, groaning in satisfaction as he tasted you. He took off his pants, leaving him completely naked before you, his tattoo on his right rib cage visible to your eyes, making him look even more sexy.

He took your hands away from his cock, intertwining your hands with his and raising them above your head once again. He captured your swollen lips in a passionate kiss, licking, sucking and biting on your lips and tongue. He grinded his swollen tip on your clit making the both of you moan and groan in pleasure. You felt his pace going from slow and light to fast and hard. You felt every vein on his cock, now lubricated by your juices. He hid his face in your neck, biting down on your neck quieting his sounds of pleasure. You covered your mouth with your right hand, your left scratching his back not being able to take the feeling pleasure from something so simple.

He stopped grinding, making you confused. He took his face away from your neck, looking into your eyes. He kissed you once again, holding your jaw open with his mouth, he spit in your mouth and slid his tongue in your mouth, both of you fighting for dominance. You suddenly moaned against his lips as you felt him push his tip in your entrance, his thumb slowly circling your clit, making you want to cry out in pleasure. “Fuck, beautiful. You’re so wet, I can probably slide right in. I love you so much.” You looked at him above you, grabbing his face, you pulled him into a kiss as he pushed himself deeper into you, his tip hitting you cervix, scratching his back in the process, receiving a loud groan from him against your lips. You pulled away, his face only centimeters away from you, mumbling, “I love you, Jimin.”

Jimin pulled his cock out of your dripping pussy, only letting the tip stay in. He slid all the way back in, hitting your cervix once again as he sucked on you nipples. Your eyes welled up with tears from the immense pleasure he was giving you, moaning against your hand, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you arched your back.

*knock*knock*

You and Jimin looked at each other in surprise, thinking that both of you were just hearing things.

“Y/N, it’s Yoongi. It’s time to eat dinner.”

You were going to respond but suddenly felt Jimin sliding in and out of you, his pace getting faster by each thrust, making you a moaning mess. “You heard him, princess. You better respond while I’m fucking you. Or else, I’ll stop and leave you chasing your orgasm.” You whimpered, “Y-yes, Emper-ror Min. I’ll-fuck-be right o-out.” You heard his footsteps getting quieter and quieter as he walked away from your room. “Fuck fuck...right there, baby. Your cock feels so good.” You cried, and arched your back, moaning loudly as you felt your climax getting closer. You were drenched in sweat, lips swollen, stomach coiling, eyes rolling back as you couldn’t hold your profanities in. Jimin groaned loudly, his climax approaching as well. “Yeah? You like my cock ramming inside of you, hitting your g-spot? Look at you, cock slut. Taking in my cock so well every time.”

The room was filled with sounds of your skin slapping against each other and both of your moans and groans. You felt the rhythm of his thrust get messy as he was nearing his edge. He put his lips against yours in a messy kiss. “Jimin...baby, right there. I’m c-cumm-ing.” Jimin began circling your clit in figure eights, your coil snapping, feeling your walls clench tight around his cock, feeling his pulsating veins, your body shaking from your strong climax. You feel yourself getting sensitive as Jimin continues to thrust deep into you. Cumming with a groan and a snap of his hips, feeling you clench your walls, milking him.

He fell on top of you, no longer being able to hold his own weight above you. Both of your chests moving up and down trying to catch each other’s breath. Jimin finally pulled out of you after a few minutes of just relaxing, wincing in the process from your sensitivity. Jimin leaned down to kiss you, mumbling against your lips, “I love you, baby. But now it’s time to eat dinner so no one gets suspicious.” He pecked your lips before getting dressed. He made his way to the door, pouting as he didn’t see you follow him.

SMUT STOPS HERE

You got off the bed, tying your robe again. You felt your legs wobble as you made your way to him, Jimin chuckling the effect he has on you. You pecked his lips multiple times before hugging him, enjoying having his arms around you. You fixed his post-sex hair, giggling to yourself. “Alright, I’ll see you in a few minutes.” Jimin bent down to your height and pecked your lips, not getting enough he slid his tongue in your mouth again.

Pulling away from the kiss Jimin looked into your eyes and said, "아침에 널 무릎 꿇게 할 수 있는 건 나뿐이라는 걸 잊지 마. 무슨 말인지 알겠지."* Jimin smirked at you, your cheeks heating up from his statement. You slapped his chest making him throw his head back in laughter. He looked into your eyes, his smile slowly disappearing. You looked at him worried you did something wrong, worried that he realized maybe that what you two were doing is wrong.

“나를 절대 잊지 마. 왜냐하면 당신이 그의 것이라도 나는 항상 당신을 사랑할 것이기 때문이다.”* Your eyes teared up, throwing your hands around him, hugging him tight. You did not want to accept reality, when did anyone ever want to? Jimin hugged you back tighter, holding you against his chest, pecking your hair and breathing in your scent. Something he can never get over. He pulled back from the hug, holding your face in his hands, frowning on seeing your teary eyes.

“하지만 내가 널 다시 내 것으로 만들 테니 걱정하지 마. 난 널 너무 사랑해”* At that moment your tears had fallen down from your eyes. Jimin wiped your tears, pulling you back into his embrace, whispering sweet nothings to your ear to help you calm down.

After a few minutes, with a smile, one had walked away, only, you were the one being left behind this time. You sighed feeling a sudden burst of emotion with Jimin’s words, standing in front of her door ajar. You slid the door close only for a hand to slide it back open again catching you by surprise. Your eyes widened as you saw Yoongi leaning on the frame with his arms crossed, his figure towering over yours.

Yoongi noticed your disheveled look, something he had already seen before. He smirked, stepping into your room, stepping back in fear that you and Jimin had been caught. He scoffed looking at you who was afraid to look into his eyes not knowing what changed for you to fear him. Yoongi grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look into his eyes. “I don’t want you anywhere near Jimin anymore, do you understand? The purpose of your job isn’t for you to whore around, Y/N. Go dress up in your hanbok. It’s time for dinner.” Your eyes filled with tears, never has he ever called you a “whore.” You feared what he could do to Jimin. You’ve seen what he can do to people and it was something you didn’t want to witness happening to Jimin, a person you’re in love with.

Yoongi noticed your tears cascading down your blushing cheeks, your flustered appearance slightly satisfying him as you looked vulnerable in front of him. He caressed your cheek before leaving a kiss on them, making you flinch. Yoongi growled, slightly pushing you away from him, not satisfied with your response to his kiss. He had made his way to exit the room, pausing before he had made his way completely out the doorway, he turned around looking at you with cold eyes. He made his way towards you in large strides, pulling on your arm, bringing his mouth near your ear whispering the truth you were glad he did not reveal in front of the others.

“And don’t forget the day you oathed yourself to me…,my beautiful consort.”

FOOTNOTES

나를 절대 잊지 마. 왜냐하면 당신이 그의 것이라도 나는 항상 당신을 사랑할 것이기 때문이다 - Never forget me, because I will always love you, even if you are his.

아침에 널 무릎 꿇게 할 수 있는 건 나뿐이라는 걸 잊지 마. 무슨 말인지 알겠지 - Don't forget that I'm the only one who can make you kneel in the morning. You know what I mean.

하지만 내가 널 다시 내 것으로 만들 테니 걱정하지 마. 난 널 너무 사랑해- But i’ll make you mine again, so don’t worry. I love you so much

Hey guys! I’d like to hear what you thought about the story! Leave comments or ask question. My request box is open!!

59 notes · View notes

phantomofsilence · 5 years

Text

Title : Stuck Between A Rock And A Hard Place

Word Count : Honestly who the hell knows?

Warning : Sad Bucky, sad Steve, you can see it from the request.

A/N :

Alright so i already posted this request but Tumblr somehow deleted it. So i had to do it all over again. Well thankfully not the story, i fortunately wrote it in the notes, i learned that lesson the hard way. Anyway along with a story the request itself was deleted. So i think this is how the request went, if it was your request message me if it was wrong. Also i had a really hard time with this request, i don't know why i just wasn't inspired, well probably more tired from college than inspired, but that's why it took so long. I wanted to do it right. Also for anyone else who send me a request i saw it, and i will right it as soon as my obligations allow me some free time. Also i did the P. O. V. thing so don't get confused. Okay, enough rambling, i hope you like it. And also i believe there was a compliment in the request for gif usage, thank you for that. 😘😘😘❤️

Request : Can you do a fic where you and the new agent are getting closer to the point where the team suspects that you are falling out of love with Bucky? (angst to fluff).

Steve's P. O. V.

As soon as he saw her enter the kitchen Chris was out of his seat smothering her in a hug, but Natasha and Steve, hung back and watched with frowns on their faces.

They stayed quiet during their conversation occasionally sipping coffee.

Their stubbornness and Steve's persistence in making sure both him and the team stay out of this complicated and deeply personal situation, rendered them mute, as they stood there cold and stoic, as they sipped on their coffee.

Many would say the intimacy in the embrace, those gentle smiles, and completely unnecessary gazes they were curently being subjected to were highly inappropriate and Steve would have to agree with them.

The more he watched, the more sorry he felt for his friend. But no, Steve wasn't angry at her, he was hurt. How could such a sweet girl be so uncaring? No one deserves this kind of treatment, his friend the least. He's been through so much already, Steve thought you out of all people understood this.

He lost so much, did he have to lose you too?

You were the rock that kept thing moving, a force anyone could fall back on if needed to be. And you want to abandon it all, for this Chris, a man you barely know compared to his friend.

Steve knew he was letting his feelings cloud his judgement, and you haven't really done anything but spent time with a man you claimed was your friend, a man that was your partner. He knew he spent just as much, if not more time with Natasha and she was one of his most valued friends.

Also, Chris seemed like a nice guy, the kind of man if you were still single he'd advise you to go for.

But that's it, you weren't single. In fact you were in a committed relationship with the most important person in his life.

He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and he didn't know what to do. Invade his best friend's privacy or let his best friend be hurt when he could at least cushion the blow.

One more look at the 'lovely couple' and he decided, privacy be damned, his friend deserves honesty at least and he was gonna make sure he got it for him.

"Steve.." a voice trailed off cautiously, he looked over the see Natasha leaning on the counter facing them, with her head turned towards him looking at him.

"I know, Nat." he knew he shouldn't have snapped, it wasn't her fault. She sighed.

"Steve it should be one of us, I know it sucks to hurt him like that, but it's even worse if he caught them, and we knew but didn't tell him."Like always the redhead was right, but he still tried to reason with her.

"But she hasn't done anything yet Natasha, we can't make things up when they didn't happen."

She rolled her eyes at his statement. "Yes, Steve, she hasn't done anything, yet Steve. The key word being yet. Come on, Steve! They've known each other for only two months, and they are joined at the hip. If you think Bucky didn't notice you are mistaken. Dude's been giving her the kicked puppy eyes for days now and she hasn't even noticed choosing to ogle at her new beau. This calls for revenge! "The redhead took a deep breath and said.

" He is your best friend Steve, if the rolls were reversed wouldn't you like him to say something? "

Steve didn't respond, it wasn't necessary, they both knew the answer. Instead of pushing him, Natasha gently squeezed his shoulder and left him in the kitchen to think it over.

An hour later Steve was letting out his anger on a punching bag. The more he thought about it, the more conflicted he got.

This wasn't his relationship but it was his friend. Thou you were his friend too, after Peggy's death you along with Natasha were there for him, hell you've spent the whole day making jokes just to make him forget.

You were like Bucky, the Bucky from before, not just before The Winter Soldier, but before the war. The guy that got him in a lot of trouble and the guy that stood by him and protected him when he took a bite too large to swallow.

The man that took him to many unsuccessful dates, his companion, his family, it's what drew him to you.

You were a sense reality in the world that no longer made sense, a familiar face in a strange place.

Although he wanted to protect his friend, he also felt oddly protective of you. He couldn't betray your trust, but he couldn't betray Bucky either.

Why did this has to be so hard? He thought and punched the punching bag so hard it ripped and fell few feet away.

"What did that punch bag ever do to you?" Said a man Steve was successfully avoiding since this morning.

"Oh, hey Buck. What's up?" he said trying to act nonchalant. "I could ask you the same thing. Why are you avoiding me? Did i do something?" Bucky demanded.

"I'm not avoiding you." Steve mildly shrugged. Glaring at him he got closer almost to his face. "What the hell is going on?"

Steve could hear the anger in his voice, but also hurt, trying to protect him he's the one that ended up hurting him.

"Nothing, Buck." Steve said. "Listen here, punk!

"It's bad enough the love of my life could possible be cheating on me right now, now i can't even trust you!? What the hell man?"

Steve looked at his best friend, his eyes were puffy, tears threatening to spill, but he refused to let them fall, he had dark bags under his eyes, he hasn't been sleeping well, his hands shaking in anger, this was a man already hurt.

"Look i wanted to tell you about her, but I didn't want to betray her either so I've been ignoring you both so i don't hurt anyone. I guess that ship sailed." He said, his friend deserved honestly at least he can get it from him.

"You think she's cheating on me?" asked Bucky. "I don't know, man. I did not see her so anything, from all we know we're just making stuff up."

Steve frowned, even thou he shouldn't do it now, he was defending her. "You're a good friend, Steve. But i didn't ask what you saw, i want a yes or no answer." Bucky said.

"Why do i matter, why are you asking me? If you really wanted to know you'd ask her. But you're asking me because you know i will never give you that answer. So why are you asking me, Buck?" Steve demanded.

Bucky glared at him, before he grabbed his shoulder giving him a smile." You're a punk, kid."Bucky said, paused to inhale and exhale before continuing." It's because i don't really wanna know. I love her, Steve. If fact i love her so much that even thou, she 's literally ripping me in half, my brain is still finding a reason to forgive her. That she loves me and it's all a mistake. I'm pathetic."

Bucky lowered his head, squeezed his shoulder again, let go and turned to leave.

At the door Steve voice halted him in place.

" You're not pathetic. You love her. Knowing you my whole life, you were never soft on a dame like that. I'm sorry it had to be like this."

Without turning around Bucky whispered. "Me too." And left.

Steve could see it bright as day this man was a mess. He had to do something, you might be his friend, and it wasn't his business , but he was about to confront you.

Steve knew you, you were not a coward.

He would get you to tell the truth, perhaps it wasn't too late. You need to be honest and you might even work it out with Bucky.

Taking his phone out of his pocket he texted you to meet him in his room.

Your P. O. V.

After the workout Chris suggested you go to the diner you always go after a successful mission.

"Come on it's been some time since we been there." Snorting at that statement you replied. "We literally went there two days ago."

Groaning Chris whined. "Exactly, too long, come on i know you can practically taste those fries and that strawberry and vanilla milkshake you like. Eh, it will be fun and if i may say so i make great company."

Although the offer was tempting, and you really could taste those fries and that delicious milkshake, you had to go home to your boyfriend.

You missed him so much, and judging by those sad eyes he's been giving you he missed you just as much, if not more.

The missions you were being sent on this past month left little to no time for your relationship, and now having to prepare for an undercover mission of great importance and you weren't allowed to speak about it with anyone according to Maria, you were forced to spend all your free time with Chris.

Well forced was a harsh word, Chris was a great man and an amazing partner, but he wasn't your boyfriend.

"Sorry gotta take a rain check." You mumbled apologetically. Chris smiled and pulled you in for a hug.

"Hey i get it, if i had a hunk like that waiting for me at home, i wouldn't even bother talking to you. Scram, kid." You arched an eyebrow on chuckling. "Is that so? "

"I'd fuck him."

As you were nearing your apartment your phone buzzed. Looking at the screen you saw you had a text from Steve. Opening it read' We need to talk, met me at my place'.

Steve was not the best texter but he never sounded this urgent and formal. If this was about the mission he would have asked meat at The Tower, this was personal.

Something was wrong.

All it took was three knocks to be met with Steve's hard gaze, he stood aside allowing you to come in.

"So we need to talk?Are you breaking up with me Steve?"A light-hearted joke that was meant to brighten the mood was met with a glare. Okay, not the right crowd.

"Listen, i know it's non of my business and you're my friend, but this needs to end. What the hell is going on with you and Chris? "

Steve asked firmly before placing his hands on his belt buckle. You knew that stance, you've seen it a million times, it was meant to frighted and send a message that he met business.

You never thought you's see it being used on you. But you weren't so easily scared.

"You're right, Steve it's non of your business ." You replied defensively. Who was he thinking he could question you?

"You're right, but i don't care. I'm the one who has to watch my friend heartbroken when you leave with Chris, so excuse me if I'm a little protective. Just don't. Own up to it." Steve said.

"Own up to what, Steve? Heartbroken? My Bucky? What the hell is going on?" You demanded. You have done nothing to Bucky. What the hell is he talking about?"You hurt him and..." Steve began but you cut him off. "Hurt him i haven' t even spoken to him!" You piped up.

"Exactly."

Bucky's P. O. V.

Knowing he couldn't stay cupped up in his room with all those thoughts swearing in his head Bucky decided to take a walk, and by walk he meant a run, muttering angry at nothing and panting wildly.

He wasn't sure if he was panting because he was tired from the aggressive run or the work his mind put him through.

He decided the latter.

As if he was cursed to suffer today, he ran into the last person he wanted to see. Chris strolled up to him, a bright smile on his face, as if he wasn't the cause to his misery. Some nerve on this guy!

"Hey, Buck right?" he said to Bucky holding his hand for him to shake. Bucky just looked down at it frown.

"Not a hand shaker? Alright, i get it. I'm getting used on it myself.Also some say it's unhygienic."

What pissed of Bucky even more was that Chris wasn't even fazed by Bucky unfriendly stance. This guy!

"Anyway i just wanted to meet the man my partner won't shut up about. I mean that woman's got you on a pedestal you'd think your shooting rainbow out of your ass."

Keep rubbing salt to an open wound, Bucky though. This dude was something else.

"Look man, i don't really know her for that long, but she's kinda grown on me. She's one heck of a woman. She means a lot to me and... " Bucky cut him of. "I can imagine." He remarked through his teeth.

"No, you really can't, she has been there for me after the war, you know when you get back everyone keeps walking on egg shells around you, it's a strange place, even the bed feels wrong, too soft. But she made me feel human."

Suddenly the anger for the man was gone and all that was left was confusion. Chris was a marine? It would explain his posture.

" She's not afraid to hold me, i thank God or whatever is out there everyday for a friend like her. "

Bucky knew what he was talking about oh to well, she made him fell the same. She was comfort, she was peace, she was his home.

" Why are you telling me all of this? "Bucky asked.

" Because I'm not blind, i know a jealous man when i see one. She holds me because it helps me relax, not because she is in love with me. Don't even try to deny it. I know what it feels to love her, but you know what it feels like to be loved by her. If anyone has the right to be jealous, it's me. Don't screw this up, man. See ya. "

Before Bucky even had the chance to process what Chris had said, he turned and ran the other way.

Walking into your room you felt oddly nervous. You didn't even know it but you've made the man you love, a man in doubt.

He now questioned your love and you did not even notice. Sure you saw a bit of sadness but regarded it as him simply missing you.

Not a man heartbroken and riddled with insecurities. He probably hasn't even slept right and you didn't see it.

There was no reason for your fear, the room was empty, no Bucky in sight. Footsteps in the hallway made you turn around. Walking out of the room you followed the footsteps into the hallway, outside your apartment, down the stairs and only when you were outside did you catch the glimpse of the man of our.

Gathering enough courage you called out Bucky who at the sound of your voice turned and froze.

The tension was high, you could feel it in the air as you stared at one another.

Just as you opened your mouth to speak not even knowing what to say Bucky crossed the distance, grabbed you by the back of your neck and kissed you.

It only took you a second to respond, the kiss was desperate, teeth clashing, tongues fighting for dominance, while hands roamed all over, pulling, squeezing.

Pulling away for air you kept your eyes closed. "Tell me you love me." Pleaded Bucky, making you feel even more guilty.

Opening your eyes your hands sneaked themselves around his neck pulling until your forehead touched his own.

"I'm not sure about a lot of things Bucky. But there is one thing i am sure about and that is that i love you, James Buchanan Barnes, i love you and i always will. I'm sorry i ever made you doubt my love. "

"No, i am the one that's sorry. I shouldn't have doubted you in the first place. I got so stuck in my own head. I'm sorry. I love you so much, doll."

"I love you. Let's just forget about it and agree that from now on we will talk about this things. No holding back. "

"You're right. From now, we talk. But please be patient with me. And do me a favor, will you."

"Anything."

"Don't quit on me. I know it can be hard to be with me sometimes, but I love you as much it is possible for this broken man to love. "

"You're not broken, just bent. And don't act like I'm a walk in the park, i know i can be frustrating. But this is a relationship, we work together, we compromise, we fight, we make love. We don't quit on each other, we fight for us."

"I love you."

"And i love you."

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