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geotjwrs · 1 day

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BROKEN ECHOES

Pairings ; Non-Actress!Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

Warnings ; angst? reader is a bit major walking red-flag

The apartment lay engulfed in an oppressive silence, broken only by the occasional creak of the floorboards beneath Jenna's restless pacing. She moved with determined strides, her mind a tempest of doubt and apprehension. Each step echoed in the stillness of the night, a steady rhythm of uncertainty that seemed to reverberate off the walls.

She glanced at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time, the glowing digits taunting her with their relentless advance. 2:47 AM. Y/N should have been home hours ago, but with each passing minute, Jenna's unease grew more pronounced.

Their dreams of conquering the music industry together had always burned bright, fueled by a passion that blazed hotter than any wildfire.

But lately, as they navigated the treacherous waters of fame and success, those dreams seemed to slip further and further from their grasp.

The strain was starting to show on their relationship, the once unbreakable bond between them now stretched thin, threatening to snap with each passing day.

Finally, just as Jenna was on the verge of giving in to the overwhelming urge to call Y/N for the nineteenth time, she heard the familiar jingle of keys in the lock. The door swung open, and Y/N stumbled through, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion and his eyes heavy with fatigue.

Jenna stood with arms crossed, her features contorted in a mask of frustration and hurt as she glared at Y/N, who sat slouched on the couch, his gaze fixed on the floor.

"Where were you?" Jenna's voice sliced through the silence, sharp and accusatory.

Y/N jaw clenched, a flicker of irritation crossing his features before he masked it with a forced calm. "I lost track of time at the studio. I'm sorry, Jen."

The apology fell flat, leaving a bitter taste in Jenna's mouth as she struggled to contain the rising tide of emotion threatening to consume her. "You're always 'losing track of time,' Y/N," she spat, her voice trembling with anger. "Do you even care about us anymore?"

Y/N's expression hardened, his own frustration bubbling to the surface as he met Jenna's accusing stare with a glare of his own. "Of course I care, Jen. But you're not the only one with dreams, you know. I'm trying to make something of myself, to give us a future worth fighting for."

Tears welled up in Jenna's eyes, threatening to spill over as she struggled to find the words to express the depth of her pain. "I miss us, Y/N," she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. "I miss the way things used to be, when it was just you and me against the world. But now...now it feels like we're strangers, trapped in a cycle of disappointment and resentment."

Y/N's resolve faltered, his anger melting away as he reached out for Jenna, his touch gentle and tentative. "I miss us too, Jenna," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "I hate seeing you like this, so distant and hurt. I just...I don't know how to fix things anymore."

For a moment, they stood there in silence, their hearts laid bare before each other as they grappled with the magnitude of their shared pain. But then, slowly, almost hesitantly, Jenna reached out for Y/N, her hand trembling as she cupped his cheek.

"Maybe we can't fix things," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. "But we can try. We can fight for each other, for what we once had. Because even if it feels like we're drowning, I still believe there's a way forward. And I'm not ready to give up on us just yet."

Y/N's eyes brimmed with tears, his own resolve crumbling as he pulled Jenna into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest. "I'm not ready to give up on us either, Jenna," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I'll do whatever it takes to make things right, to find our way back to each other."

But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, and still, the rift between them seemed to widen with each passing day. Arguments became more frequent, their tempers flaring at the slightest provocation. They clashed over everything, from the smallest of details to the biggest of decisions, each disagreement driving a deeper wedge between them.

Jenna tried to ignore the growing sense of unease that gnawed at her insides, but it was impossible to ignore the fact that something had changed between them.

Y/N was no longer the carefree, easygoing partner she had fallen in love with; instead, he seemed distant and preoccupied, as if he were carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

One evening, as they sat across from each other at the dinner table, the tension between them reached its breaking point. A seemingly innocuous comment from Y/N sparked a heated argument, their voices rising in anger until they were shouting over each other, their words laced with hurt and frustration.

"I can't do this anymore, Y/N," Jenna cried, her voice raw with emotion. "I don't even understand you anymore. All you care about is your fucking bullshit."

Y/N's expression hardened, his eyes flashing with anger. "Well, maybe if you weren't so damn stubborn all the time, we wouldn't be in this mess. But this isn't a big deal anymore, Jenna. I'm already here." Don't you even he shot back, his voice dripping with venom.

Jenna eyes narrowed, her patience wearing thin. "Not a big deal? You promised we'd spend tonight together, Y/N. You were forced to go home right away because you know I don't want to wait for you. But once again, your music takes precedence over everything else."

Y/N bristled at her words, his temper flaring as he rose to his feet, his voice laced with frustration. "You don't understand, Jenna. This is my career, my passion. I can't just drop everything whenever you snap your fingers."

Jenna recoiled, her heart pounding with a mix of anger and hurt. "Is that what you think this is about? Me snapping my fingers? I'm tired of always coming second to your music, Y/N. I'm tired of feeling like I'm not enough."

Y/N's expression hardened, his resolve steeling as he met Jenna's gaze head-on. "Maybe you're not," he bit out, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. "Maybe I need someone who understands what it means to be with a musician, someone who supports my dreams instead of trying to tear them down."

Jenna's breath caught in her throat, the weight of his words crushing her spirit. "Is that what you want, Y/N? Someone who worships at your feet, who bends over backwards to accommodate your every whim?"

Y/N's eyes flashed with anger, his patience wearing thin. "I don't know what I want anymore, Jenna. All I know is that this...us...it's not working. Maybe it's time we face the truth."

The words hung in the air between them, a heavy silence descending upon the room like a suffocating blanket. Jenna felt as if she'd been punched in the gut, the realization hitting her with a force she hadn't anticipated. Was this the end of their love story? A bitter twist of fate that tore them apart at the seams?

Tears welled up in Jenna's eyes, threatening to spill over as she struggled to find the words to express the depth of her pain. "I can't do this anymore, Y/N," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. "I can't keep pretending that everything is okay when it's not. We're falling apart, and I don't know how to fix it."

Y/N recoiled as if struck, the weight of Jenna's words hitting him like a ton of bricks. "Maybe we're just not meant to be," he whispered, his voice heavy with regret.

And in that moment, as they stood on the precipice of their shattered dreams, Jenna and Y/N knew that their love story had come to an end. They were two souls destined to walk separate paths, forever haunted by the echoes of what could have been.

Jenna's heart shattered as Y/N's words reverberated in her mind. She had never imagined their relationship would come to such a bitter end. Every memory of their time together seemed tainted now, every shared moment soured by the knowledge that it was all for naught.

As she stumbled out of the apartment, tears streaming down her cheeks, Jenna felt as if she were drowning in a sea of sorrow. How had it all gone so wrong? What had happened to the love they had once shared, the bond that had seemed unbreakable?

Lost in her thoughts, Jenna wandered the empty streets, her footsteps echoing in the silence of the night. She had nowhere to go, no one to turn to. All she could do was mourn the loss of what could have been, the dreams they had once dared to dream now nothing more than shattered illusions.

Hours passed in a blur, the night stretching on endlessly as Jenna grappled with the enormity of her grief. And then, just when she thought she couldn't bear the pain any longer, a voice broke through the darkness, calling out to her from the shadows.

"Jenna?"

She turned, her heart skipping a beat as she saw him standing there, his silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights.

Y/N stood before her, his expression a mixture of regret and longing. His eyes, once filled with fire and determination, now held a hint of vulnerability that tugged at Jenna's heartstrings.

"I'm sorry, Jenna," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean what I said back there. I was angry, and I lashed out. Please, forgive me."

Jenna felt her resolve waver, torn between the pain of his betrayal and the lingering love she still held for him deep in her heart. She wanted to turn away, to shut him out and walk away forever. But something held her back, some invisible thread that bound them together despite everything that had transpired between them.

"I don't know if I can forgive you, Y/N," she admitted, her voice tinged with sadness. "But I don't want to fight anymore. I'm tired of this endless cycle of pain and anger. Can't we just...let go?"

Y/N's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he took a step closer, his hand outstretched as if to touch her. "I don't want to let go, Jenna," he confessed, his voice thick with emotion. "I know I messed up, but I still love you. I always will."

Jenna felt her resolve crumble as she looked into his eyes, seeing the raw honesty shining there. Despite everything, despite the hurt and the betrayal, she couldn't deny the truth of his words. She loved him too, with every fiber of her being, and she knew she always would.

With a heavy sigh, Jenna reached out for him, her hand trembling as it met his. "I love you, Y/N," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. "But love isn't always enough, is it?"

Y/N's grip tightened around her hand, his eyes shining with determination. "No, it's not," he agreed, his voice tinged with sadness. "But maybe...just maybe...we can find a way forward together. One step at a time."

The streets stretched out before them, a labyrinth of shadows and echoes, mirroring the tangled mess of emotions that churned within Jenna and Y/N's hearts. Each step they took felt like a weight pressing down on their weary souls, a reminder of the fractured bond that held them together and tore them apart in equal measure.

As they wandered aimlessly through the city, Jenna and Y/N found themselves drawn to places that held memories of their shared past. They passed by the cafe where they had shared their first kiss, the park where they had laughed and danced beneath the stars, the alley where they had sought refuge from the world.

But now, each familiar sight was tinged with bitterness, a cruel reminder of the love they had lost and the pain that lingered in its wake. They walked in silence, their footsteps echoing in the empty streets, their hearts heavy with regret and longing.

Hours passed like eternities, the night stretching on endlessly as Jenna and Y/N wandered deeper into the heart of the city. They spoke little, their words swallowed by the darkness that surrounded them, their thoughts consumed by the wreckage of their broken relationship.

And then, just when it seemed like they had reached the end of their journey, they found themselves standing on the edge of a bridge, the river below shimmering in the moonlight like a beacon of hope in the darkness.

For a moment, they stood there in silence, their eyes locked on the water below, their hearts heavy with the weight of what had been and what could never be. And then, without a word, Y/N turned to Jenna, his eyes filled with a sorrow too deep for tears.

"I'm sorry, Jenna," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the rushing of the river below. "I never meant for things to end like this. I never wanted to hurt you."

Jenna's breath caught in her throat, a lump forming in her chest as she struggled to find the words to express the depth of her pain. "I know, Y/N," she choked out, her voice trembling with emotion. "But sometimes, sorry isn't enough. Sometimes, the damage is too deep to be repaired."

Y/N's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he reached out for her, his hand trembling as it brushed against her cheek. "I love you, Jenna," he confessed, his voice thick with emotion. "I always will. And if there's any way I can make things right, any way I can earn your forgiveness, I'll do it. I swear."

But Jenna shook her head, her heart breaking with the weight of his words. "It's too late for that, Y/N," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. "We've hurt each other too much, pushed each other away too many times. I don't think we can ever go back to the way things were."

And in that moment, as they stood on the brink of their shattered dreams, Jenna and Y/N knew that their love story had come to an end. They were two souls destined to walk separate paths, forever haunted by the echoes of what could have been.

For sometimes, love was not enough to mend the fractures of a broken heart.

And as they parted ways, each consumed by their own regrets and what-ifs, Jenna and Y/N made a silent vow to themselves: no matter how dark the road ahead may be, they would face it alone, forging their own paths to redemption.

For in the end, the only person they could rely on was themselves.

#jenna ortega #Spotify #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega fanfic #jenna ortega x male reader #x male reader #jenna ortega x reader #angst

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beardrabbles · 3 years

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rock solid bonds. pt. one

characters: zhongli, female reader, gimel ( geo hypostasis )

warnings: none

word count: 3,858 ( it’s LONG, y’all, sorry )

notes: first thing tossed into the genshin fandom is zhongli because i’m weak. so very weak. i know this idea is strange, but i’m running with it. this will have many parts, just not sure how many. anywho! :D hey. how’s it going? nice to meet’cha. oh!! also. i don’t have a beta reader, so there may be typos i’ve missed. oof.

You had made this trip several times before, and you assumed that this trip would be no different. You skirted around small packs of curious hilichurl, scooped up seashells from the many beaches you followed and swam through the clear, blue waters of Guyun Stone Forest until — finally — you reached the island you had been visiting over the course of several months.

The moment your water-logged feet touched solid ground rather than loose sand, you felt it — the faint traces of a low, constant vibration. It was a steady buzzing, except where the intensity would pulse every now and again, like a living heartbeat.

‘ It’s here, ’ you thought, ‘ good. ’

You hurried to rest against the crumbling wall of the ruins where the hypostasis often lingered, allowing yourself a moment to dry off and rummage through your supplies. No matter how routine this was, you knew you couldn’t become complacent. You could handle the stubborn bundle of geo, no problem, but you knew it never hurt to be prepared.

From your bag, you pulled out a wrapped bundle of fried fish and a single, elegant vial of a bright yellow liquid. You sloshed the liquid around, recalling the last time you’d been overconfident and forgone making the geo dampening potion. You had returned home that day with several more bruises the usual, and so you had firmly reminded yourself at you would prepare some, even if it had meant several days worth of butterfly chasing.

“You got lucky last time. Saw you learned a new move, but I’m smart. I learned.” You lifted the stopper out of the vial and knocked back the contents. The effects were immediate. You didn’t look it, but you felt thicker, sturdier, more centered. You hoped that was the effect of the potion, anyway. Nothing would sour your mood more than to realize the person you’d hired to make the potion had fouled it up.

Shrugging, you placed the empty vial into your pack, gulped down several bites of fried fish, then left your pack tucked up against the wall and behind a mess of tangled roots. Your hands moved next to the handle of your weapon, which peeked out from over your shoulder. With a heave, you brought out the claymore you so adored. It was nicked in places and scuffed in others, yet you found you were too attached. It had gotten you through too many battles, and it felt wrong to abandon it.

“Alright, we’ve got this. Just a few more months of this, and we can——!” Your self-given peptalk was cut short when you glanced around the wall and found that the hypostasis wasn’t alone. Choking on your own words, you quickly ducked back into the hiding. “Dammit! Someone’s already here.”

You set your claymore aside and pressed your hands to the wall, using it to lean around and peek.

“Huh. . .” Strange. Nearly every time you found the raw elemental, it had its defenses up. Even as it seemingly napped in place, it surrounded itself in solid, almost unbreakable basalt. Now, in front of this tall stranger, it was nothing more than its small, brightly glowing core. It bobbed and spun, giving off the sunshine-bright disposition of a puppy.

It was almost cute.

Interesting as the hypostasis was in this form, you found yourself drawn to the stranger interacting with it. Slender but strong, standing tall and straight, with a single hand that wove through the air around the exposed core. From where you stood, you couldn’t quite tell who he was, but something about him felt familiar.

‘ I’ve seen him before. ’ The earthen tones of his clothes and hair, the elegance and the poise. You were certain you had seen someone similar making their way through the streets of the harbor before. And, in his wake, came dreamy sighs and low purrs of admiration from all manner of people. The name eluded you, mostly because you didn’t care. He was a stranger, and you had no reason to acknowledge him until now.

“Why does it look like he’s playing with it?” You huffed through your nose, feeling thoroughly irritated that your chance to mine precious gems from the hypostasis had been squandered.

Without meaning to, you let out a groan of frustration.

The elemental core gave a sudden jolt, it’s small form jerking away from the man. In an instant, it wrapped itself in its armor, dark basalt etched with shimmering lines of gold appearing in large, even chunks. You gasped and ducked back for a second time, your heart rapidly beating against your chest. It didn’t know you were there. It couldn’t! You weren’t that loud, were you?

“Moron!” You scolded yourself and made to snatch your pack up when a voice, smooth and deep, reached you.

“I know you’re there.”

You stopped and stood still, as if that would render you completely untraceable. Breath held, but heart still hammering, you waited.

“It would benefit you greatly to come out of hiding.” The voice continued, calm and even.

Something about the voice made you reluctant to run. Shuddering and setting aside your things, you willingly stepped out from behind the crumbling ruins. Hands up and empty, you first revealed that you were unarmed. Harmless. Totally harmless.

“Ah, there you are.” There was a hint of satisfaction in the man’s tone, but you hardly paid attention. Your focus was intent on the sensation soaking through the soles of your boots. The vibration from earlier wasn’t as calm as it had been, the heartbeat-like thrum from earlier replaced with an anxious tattoo that traveled through your legs and up into your chest. You found yourself catching your breath, a horrible feeling welling inside your ribcage.

“Am I causing that?” Your own voice was soft and feeble and sincere. The man approached at a slow but steady clip, until he stood a mere foot away. His arms were folded behind him, making him appear even more refined up close.

“I wasn’t expecting you to realize your mistake so quickly. Good. I wasn’t looking forward to explaining it.” He arched a single brow. “Might I ask your name?”

“Uh. . .” You shook yourself from your mounting guilt and lowered your hands. He was polite, but you could tell from the sharp look in his amber eyes that he didn’t approve of your presence, and rightfully so. Still, you didn’t want to deny him your name when he had yet to force you off the island. You muttered your name, and he let out a thoughtful hum before repeating it.

Never had you heard your own name on a voice that alluring. It balanced on a fine line between heavenly and sinful, and you wished deeply that he would never, ever say it again. It sounded too good, and your heart already had its share of problems to deal with at the moment, shame being one of them.

“Seen you around the harbor before, but I can’t remember your name.” You gently prompted him to give his own name in return, hoping it wouldn’t be seen as rude. The corner of his lips turned up a fraction, but that hint of a smile didn’t last long.

“I am Zhongli. Under different circumstances, I would say it was a pleasure to meet you.” Still scolding, still disapproving. You shrank under his gaze, but still found it in you to speak in turn.

“I’ve never seen it out of its armor for that long before.” You observed.

“I wonder why that is. . .” Zhongli turned to face the elemental, his broad shoulders rising and lowering with a heavy sigh. Guilt punched you in the gut again.

“I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong!” You didn’t mean to raise your voice, but you had never once been convinced that your mining had been detrimental to the hypostasis.

“It cannot speak for itself, so you were lead to believe that your harvesting was harmless.” Zhongli mused as he ventured towards the elemental again. “That is understandable. But now that you are aware, now that you feel the effect your presence has on it, are you willing to change?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but were stopped but a sudden thought.

For the sake of a voiceless, sentient being, were you willing to change? Yes. Were you able? No.

You hurried to follow Zhongli and weren’t the least bit surprised when the hypostasis kept its distance, basalt armor quaking with fear. You stopped your advance, keeping well behind Zhongli.

“I can’t.”

“Oh?” He didn’t turn his attention to you, but kept it intent on the elemental. He lifted a gloved hand, the palm resting carefully along the surface of one cube of armor. “That is a shame. I was hoping you’d be agreeable.”

“No, it’s — it’s not that I don’t want to. I want to! I didn’t know it was. . .”

“Capable of feelings?”

You nodded despite knowing he couldn’t see you.

“All things feel, all things remember. The lack of a voice does not make one unworthy of thoughts or memories, good or bad.” Zhongli smoothed his hand over the armor of the hypostasis. “It remembers. You are quite brutal.”

“I’m sorry.” You directed this to the hypostasis rather than him. “I didn’t know.”

“And yet you blatantly refuse to change your behavior?” Zhongli’s sharp gaze landed on you again.

“I have an obligation! I’m bound to my word.” Your hackles rose for a moment, but were lowered again soon after. “I have a contract.”

At this, Zhongli came to face you. “A contract?”

“I don’t know why I should tell you.” Your stubbornness reared its ugly head in that moment. Arms crossed, you waited for him to coldly dismiss you. Instead, he folded his arms behind his back and cooly stared you down.

“Contracts are, for better or worse, binding. I understand that, when broken, there can be dire consequences. Is this an official contract?” He wondered. You wanted to hold firm to your refusal to speak of it, but the man’s calm nature made it difficult.

Shifting uneasily, you gave another nod.

“Yes.”

“Are you barred from discussing the terms of the contract with people unrelated to the contract itself?” Each question was asked quickly and sharply, as if practiced. You frowned, moreso out of thought than offense.

“I don’t think so. No one’s ever told me I’m not allowed.”

“Then, please, indulge me. What about this contract requires you to mine as often as you do?”

“You want the long version or the short version?” You reached up to rub at the space between your eyebrows, mounting stress threatening to bring forward a headache.

“Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”

“If you say so. My family’s in a tight spot, yeah? We owe some people a lot of money, but most of the people involved are too old, too frail or too inexperienced to go out and earn the mora we need. The people that are hounding us thought, hey, let’s get the daughter to go out and find these precious materials. No one can pass up on free labor, right? I work for them, I slowly whittle away at the debt my family’s worked up for the last few years.” You shrugged casually to hide the fact that the contract was draining you of your free time and, apparently, your morals.

Zhongli frowned, a wrinkle knitting his brows together.

“What are the exact terms on your contract?” He asked, ignoring a nudge against his shoulder from the hypostasis.

“There are quite a few, but the one causing me the most trouble right now is the fact that I need to come here every day and pick out the prithiva from your friend there.” You didn’t miss the shudder in the rocks or the way the hypostasis fled yet again, putting space between you and itself. Zhongli motioned for the hypostasis to calm, but the trembling remained.

“I need the terms as they were worded the day the contract was made.” Zhongli requested firmly this time.

“Three prithiva gems, whole and unblemished, every day for a year. Even if it means getting the slivers and asking someone to do their alchemy-thing on it, I gotta get those gems.”

Zhongli’s stern gaze softened as he motioned for the hypostasis to come nearer.

“That’s all?”

“When it comes to this fella, yeah. I just need the gems.” This time, you were the one to step away from the coming hypostasis. It was clear you had scarred the creature, and you weren’t about to disrespect it in front of this man, who so clearly cherished the living geo.

“You aren’t required to fight and take it?” He continued.

“They never said I did, but it was the only way I could think to fulfill the terms.” You slumped in place and let out a little whine. “Don’t tell me I could have just asked for it.”

“Did you consider the possibility?” Zhongli quipped.

“No! I didn’t think it could understand people!” You stressed with a growl. Zhongli chuckled, the sound taking you aback.

“It doesn’t understand language, but it understands intent. Come here.” The command was subtle, but you felt compelled to obey. Cautiously, you took to Zhongli’s side. His taller frame shadowed yours, and you swore you caught the scent of sun-warmed stones and hints of glaze lilies as an errant ocean breeze whorled past. “Put your hand out, like me.”

You hesitated, and he took note of this.

“Be calm. If you’re afraid, it will know.” He coaxed you, sounding far gentler than he had since calling you out of your hiding spot.

“I’m not afraid,” you corrected, “I feel bad.”

“As deserving as the feeling is, you can make it right if it is your intent to.” Zhongli pointed out. You sucked in a breath, nodded once, then held your hand out. The hypostasis shuddered again and bobbed backwards. Zhongli frowned like a disapproving father and clicked his tongue. “I understand that she’s been cruel, but I believe her when she says she was unaware of how sentient you are. If we are to make amends, the effort needs to be mutual on both parts. As long as I am here, neither of you will come to harm.”

The hypostasis twitched and the armor around it lowered for a moment, but it was fleeting. In a small fit of hope, you drew closer and placed your hand against the glimmering armor. The protective chunks of rock snapped back into place around its dim core, spun rapidly in the air, then sunk down into the ground where all that remained were spider-web cracks that glowed as warm and bright as the sun.

You stood there, hand out and mouth agape.

“It ran away!”

Zhongli lowered his head for a moment. “This was not the result I imagined, but it is progress.”

You lowered your hand and rolled your eyes.

“How is that progress?” You snapped. Zhongli didn’t so much as flinch at your aggression, but sported a knowing smile that irritated your further.

“Gimel let you near without attacking out of instinct. I would say that counts as progress, small step as it is.” He spoke assuredly, and you supposed he had a point.

“Gimel?”

“It has a name. It may work in your favor to remember it.” Zhongli added.

“Yeah, well — what am I supposed to do now? I can’t go back empty-handed.” You grumbled and turned away, stalking back to the spot where you had stashed your bag. The effects of the potion you had drank earlier had begun to ware off, leaving you feeling oddly light and slightly off-balance. That, coupled with your plummeting mood, made you want to leave behind the island and hope that your contract wasn’t seen as broken.

Behind you, you heard the steady click of boots as Zhongli followed behind you.

“I have an offer.” He stopped when you did, and he didn’t miss the flicker of confusion and wariness in your eyes when you spun around.

“What kind of offer?” You were like a cornered animal, and you wondered if he had sensed your growing worry since Gimel had disappeared. You weren’t desperate yet, but that may have been because you had yet to fail in completing your end of the contract. The consequences were unknown, but you were sure you would regret returning to Liyue Harbor without the gems you were asked to retrieve. Still, you were concerned, and you knew it was hard to hide when you fidgeted the way you did.

“A contract.”

“No.”

“One that won’t break the conditions of the contract you’re currently bound to.” He continued in spite of your quick refusal. You crossed your arms and wrinkled your nose, but it only caused him to smile again. “Don’t be stubborn, girl.”

You scowled and felt a rare flare of anger rise, but he interrupted you with a shake of his head and a raise of his closed hand. Long, slender fingers unfurled, revealing a small handful of pristine prithiva topaz gemstones. It wasn’t out of greed that you lunged forward, but a deep desire to protect yourself and your family. You didn’t grab the gems, of course. It wouldn’t do to anger this man after he had shown you patience, but you wouldn’t deny that it was a tempting sight to see him holding the gems out for you to take.

You whetted your lips with a quick swipe of your tongue and spoke past the sandpaper feeling in your throat.

“What are your terms?” You croaked.

“You return to this place every day, unarmed and alone, to spend time with Gimel. In return, you will be rewarded with the gems required of you. As it’s clear they didn’t specify how you acquire them, it will not interfere with the terms of your current contract.” He raised both brows this time and held the gems out further. Your fingers twitched as you reached, but you didn’t take them.

“That’s all you want out of me?”

“We are merely acquaintances, but I hardly find it worthwhile to trick you into a dishonest contract. My terms are as simple as they sound. You cease hostilities against Gimel and attempt to right your wrongs, and you will have your gems. I only ask for a few hours spent here, nothing more. I can’t expect you to wrap your entire life around this one task.” He reached out to take one of your hands, turning the palm up. His touch was gentle and didn’t contest with your own freewill, but you let him do as he pleased.

His thumb uncurled your your fingers, followed the deep lines in your palm and smoothed over your wrist. Your cheeks burned, but you blamed the glaring sun overhead. He was only being kind, you told yourself.

“If I accept these, does that mean I accept the contract?”

“I’m afraid so.” He stepped closer, head and voice low. His dark hair framed his stoic expression, yet his hand on yours remained kind. “Your answer?”

You swallowed hard, weighed your options, then peered up into those vivid, autumn-tinted eyes. “Will you be here too?”

You weren’t sure what prompted such a question, but it seemed to catch him as off-guard as well. He blinked and pulled back for a moment. “Is this an amendment?”

“No,” you shook your head and dared to laugh, “just a request. I don’t think Gimel will trust me on my own, not at first.”

“Its trust will be be earned by your own merits, not because I am here.” Zhongli informed you stiffly.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just think — maybe it would help if I observed you for a little while, maybe a few days. I can see how better to approach, then you can leave us be.” You tilted your head. “Is that unreasonable?”

“I. . . suppose it’s not. You are willing to learn, at least, and I cannot fault you for that. Very well. Starting tomorrow, I will accompany you for three days. After that, you are expected to use what you’ve learned on your own.” He closed his fingers around the gemstones and twisted his wrist, readying himself to drop them into your waiting hand. “Has your answer changed?”

You shook your head. “No, I planned to accept before.”

“Then we’re in agreement? You are aware of what will happen if you break the contract?” He warned. You nodded.

“I’m aware, trust me.” You wiggled your fingers impatiently. Zhongli placed the gems into your hand one at time, being sure not to chip or scratch them.

“Then it is done. I won’t be truly satisfied until you’ve signed a physical contract and we’ve made it official, but I will hold onto your word for the time being.” He helped your hand close around the gems, both of his own hands wrapped tightly around your clenched digits. “Find me at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor later tonight, and we can document our arrangement.”

“Sure thing, boss.” You pulled your hand away, the sensation of the gems in your grasp bringing you far more ease than you were happy with. To be so dependent on them made you nauseous, but Zhongli’s willingness to help made it a little less so. Although, you couldn’t help but to wonder why he was so quick to help. “Why are you doing this for me?”

“Is it not human nature to want to help?”

“I guess, but. . . there aren’t many that are as open and willing as you are. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful. It’s just unexpected. I didn’t think today would end the way it would.” You squirreled away the gems in your satchel, slung it over your shoulders, then affixed your claymore onto your back.

“Are you disappointed?” Zhongli calmly watched you pack up, head tilted slightly.

“Not at all.” You spared him a smile, a weight gradually lifting off your heart and shoulders. “I was annoyed at first, but I’m glad we got to meet, Mr. Zhongli.”

Another peel of soft laughter left the man, but it was hidden behind the side of his hand. “Then I will readily admit that I wasn’t expecting you to say that. I’m relieved you were so willing to cooperate, and. . . I am glad we had the chance to meet as well.”

You bounced once on the tips of your feet and gave him a mock salute. “Guess that means I’ll be seein’ you later! I’m going to pass these gems on, then I’ll pop by your place to sign my life away!”

You didn’t address the crinkle in his face at your jest, but you did snicker as you fled the island. Only when you were well out of sight did Gimel return, its core open to the air and nudging against Zhongli’s elbow.

The archon reached back to give the hypostasis a gentle stroke, but his eyes remained in the direction you had wandered off in.

“I have a feeling that our time with her will be very interesting.”

#zhongli x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #s: rock solid bonds #yes i made the hypostasis a character #i was fighting it and i couldn't help but to wonder if zhongli goes and visits it to see if it's recovering well enough #end me #dipping my toes in a new fandom WHEEZES

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abbacchiosbelt · 4 years

Text

here, it’s 3 AM and i’m feeling wild so have a 10k word unfinished fic. key word is UNFINISHED, so don’t go in expecting a proofread work. some things will literally just say ‘ADD MORE’, lmao, but i thought i’d share this because i did put a lot of work into it, i just don’t think i’ll ever finish it...

it’s Goro Akechi / F!Reader. rated M for violence, some sexual content, and unhealthy relationships. i have not finished P5R and it wasn’t even out when i was playing this, so... yeah. with that in hand, enjoy i guess

Cancelled WIP [Goro Akechi x F! Reader ] 10k words, not proofed and not complete.

A familiar and delicious aroma filled the air as you entered Café Leblanc. Ren nodded at you from behind the counter as you walked in, hastily working to whip up several different blends of coffee. It was a lazy Sunday morning, and the ex-Phantom Thieves had decided to have a chill day, as Ryuji affectionately called it. An opportunity to spend time together was rare. Even if it just meant relaxing, being together would be worth it.

Ryuji and Futaba were already there. Futaba was tucked away in her usual corner, typing away at her laptop. She gave you a short wave from behind the screen. Evidently Ryuji had spent the night, still clad in a pair of pajamas while he flipped through a manga. He lifted his hand for a high-five as you took a seat next to him at the counter, which you gladly obliged. Morgana popped his head up from the seat next to you and stretched. You reached a hand over and gave him a chin scratch, eliciting a purr from him.

Between purrs, he spoke. “This still doesn’t mean I’m a cat.” “Yeah, yeah…” you replied, giving him one final pat. Morgana seemed satisfied and curled back up, keeping his head titled towards the door. “Morning.” Ren said, sliding a cup of coffee in front of you. You closed your eyes for a moment and leaned your head down, taking in the aroma. Perfection. You took a sip and grinned. “This is perfect. As always.” You took another sip of the perfectly iced coffee, which was sweet with a slight hint of bitterness. Just how you liked it. “You and Ryuji are the only ones who take it iced, so I’m glad I could perfect it.” Ren said. “Of course you could. Don’t tell anyone, but I think you make it better than Sojiro.” You winked in response and Akira chuckled. “Plus, you like us the best.” Ren laughed again before moving back down the counter to continue working on making coffee for the rest of your friends. Yusuke arrived next, a sketch book tucked neatly underneath his arm. He sat at the end of the counter and surveyed the scene for a moment.

“Ryuji,” he stated, opening up his sketchbook. “Don’t move. You don’t move either.” Yusuke said, pointing at you. You pointed at yourself, looking confused.

“I’d like to get a sketch of all of you today.” Yusuke replied, eyes already flitting back and forth between the sketchbook and the scene in front of him. “Hm, looks like I’ll have Morgana too. Ren will have to be later…” His voice trailed off and you could tell he was already in his own world. There was nothing else to do, so you intended to stay still for Yusuke’s sake.

A moment later Haru and Makoto arrived, arms linked together. They looked happy. They were the first of the Phantom Thieves to pair off, though you had noticed their glances and subtle hints of affection before they would admit to it. You had seen the same actions between Ryuji and Ren, though they were much more coy about it.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by Ann bursting through the door shortly after, arms stacked full of all sorts of sweet tweets.

“Can I get some help?” Ann cried out as a box of sweets wobbled on top of the stack. You jumped out of your seat to help, eliciting a loud groan from Yusuke and a snicker from Ren and Ryuji in the corner. You helped Ann set the sweets down and she gave you a quick hug before heading to the end of the counter to sit with Makoto and Haru.

“Sorry, Yusuke…” You mumbled, and he waved his hand in the air.

“No matter, I can start a new one. Would you care to sit there again?” He said, flipping to a new page. You nodded in response, ready to head back over before the door chimed again. You felt your heart jump. Akechi was invited today, of course, but he often showed up late. He looked nervous as he walked in the door. There was a noticeable silence before Ren finally broke it.

“Glad you’re here, Akechi.” Ren said, nodding towards him. The rest of the group greeted him as well, and you could see the tension drop from his shoulders. Akechi’s face lit up when he saw you, his stride quick as he made his way to greet you. Out of sight of the others, he lightly grazed your hand. You smiled at the affection.

“Sorry again Yusuke, but I think we’re going to sit in a booth for now.” You said sheepishly, feeling guilty about stopping his progress again.

“That’s quite all right. I think I’ve got a new idea anyways.” Yusuke replied, not taking his eyes of his sketchbook. You could tell he wasn’t angry, but you still felt bad. Akechi’s light touch on your hand again brought you out of your thought. You picked the booth closest to the stairs to sit together, Ren and Ryuji not far from the two of you. Ren gave you a curious look when he noticed Akechi was sitting on the same side of the booth as you, your face flushing. He had always known about the two of you. He was too observant sometimes.

You turned your focus away from Ren’s gaze and towards Akechi.

“I’m glad you decided to come today.” You said, smiling at him. He smiled in return, and you felt his hand lightly graze your thigh. Much to your surprise, he kept it there, fingers light against your leg. You were no stranger to affection from him, but he was usually reserved in the presence of others.

“I’m glad as well. I wanted to talk to you about something later…” Akechi said, his face turned towards you. It often seemed like he was in his own world. “Privately. But we can spend time here now, of course.”

“Sure.” You said, glancing over at Ren again. He had returned to making coffee for everyone, but you saw him give you a smirk. You stuck your tongue out at him and you saw him laugh as he turned away. You turned your attention back to Akechi, who hadn’t said anything more.

Akechi’s fingers began to tap out a rhythmic pattern on your leg under the table. Akechi was more nervous than usual today. You reached your hand beneath the table and wrapped your hand around his, giving it a light squeeze. He seemed to visibly relax next to you.

Sometimes you wished that he was more open with his affection. Before his change of heart, he had been possessive, desperate for your affection and attention. Akechi was careful now, treating you as if you were a precious treasure that could break any moment. Still, he made his affection known. A knowing glance. A whisper so quiet you could barely hear it. His fingers ghosting across your back. They were moments you cherished. Moments that you wanted, needed, more of. Stripped away from his charismatic persona was someone who was hesitant but wished so deeply to be loved. To be needed. The past few months with him had been wonderful, but things hadn’t always been easy.

[ It had been months since the Phantom Thieves had succeeded in their goal of saving the hearts of the public. To most, you were just a regular college student traveling the world. To those closest to you, you were an ex member of the Phantom Thieves. After stumbling your way (happily) into the group, your life had changed.

Goro Akechi was one of those changes. You had found something special with him – a bond so deep that you found it impossible to live without him. A bond so deep that even his betrayal against you and your friends hadn’t been able to split you apart. A bond so deep that he couldn’t swallow his betrayal, leaving him to break away from the bonds of his old life to return to you. And yet, the bond was frayed now, in desperate need of repair.

That’s how you ended up back at your apartment, Akechi standing nervously in your doorway after stopping you on your way back from class. It was a bit intimate, your bedroom and living room being the same area. It wasn’t new to you two – but it felt as if he was afraid to cross that boundary now. Your communication had been limited since the disbandment. You were afraid of being broken again, and he was terrified to lose you.

Akechi eventually came in and settled at one of the seats on your kitchen island. You noticed he was tapping his fingers on the counter.

“I have a question for you.” Akechi finally stated. You plopped down on one of the chairs in your living room, giving him a pointed look. “A question?” You repeated. He nodded before continuing.

“Do you trust me?” Akechi said, eye contact unbreaking. He was intense, as always.

You didn’t want to lie. It’s not that you didn’t want to trust him… but he had attempted to betray all of you before his heart got the better of him. It wasn’t a simple thing to forgive. He carried sins on his back that he would spend his whole life atoning for. And yet, if Haru had managed to forgive him for ruining her father’s life, the rest of the thieves knew they should try too. Your feelings for him made it even harder. You knew better than anyone not to give it away yet.

“No.”

He let out a sigh in response, pushing his hand through his hair. “I suspected as much.”

It wasn’t easy to reject him like this. The moments you had shared, still tender in your mind. The way he smiled at you. The way he looked at you with such adoration. The way he had broken your heart. The moments you had shared together bonded you for life. Akechi’s reveal, and subsequent change of heart made you wary. You weren’t sure how to begin trusting him again. And yet, you still loved him so deeply that you couldn’t imagine life without him.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m incapable.” You said. Akechi looked surprised. “Of trusting you, I mean.”

He didn’t say anything in response, choosing to look down at his hands instead. His fingers were still tapping.

“Let’s start over.” You got up as you spoke and crossed the short distance, stepping in front of him. You put your hand out. “Nice to meet you, Goro Akechi.”

He looked startled. You watched him hesitate, unsure of whether he should touch you. He paused for another moment before reaching his hand out and grasping yours. You had missed his touch, and by the look on his face, he had missed yours as well.

“Nice to meet you too.” He said quietly, letting go of your hand. You smiled.

It was a start. ]

“Goro,” You said softly, squeezing his hand again. “Are you okay?”

He paused before responding, his thumb brushing against your hand while he thought. “I am... I’m just troubled by my thoughts today.”

You squeezed his hand again. Akechi often had unwelcome thoughts, as you had quickly learned. He was conditioned to be that way – to automatically assume the worst. To assume that no one loved him or cared for him.

“I love you, Goro.” You said, leaning into him. He relaxed into your side and placed a chaste kiss on your head.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked.

“Ah, I’m okay. Besides,” Akechi said, giving you a small smile. “We’re here to enjoy ourselves, hm?”

“If you’re sure.” You replied, smiling back at him. It was hard to get him to open up. He was guarded – your questions always deflected easily with his signature smile. When you had learned the truth from the mouth of the cognitive Akechi, you understood why he hidden himself away. When the two of you had begun your relationship, officially this time, he finally let his walls down.

[ The first time you went on a date with Akechi, you made a trip to Odaiba Seaside Park. It had been raining on and off, so you figured it’d be a quiet day. With the events of the past still fresh, you wanted to keep things simple.

Akechi had always seemed different with you. His voice was soft and sweet, free of anxieties. When he was with you, he took off the mask. It was a subtle change, but one you’d begun to pick up on. Before, he had hidden so much from you, his secrets and pain pulling him away from life. Now was a chance for both of you to start over, to experience each other as a whole.

The day had started off pleasant – a peaceful walk down the boardwalk with plenty of conversation. You could tell he was feeling at ease, and you were too.

As the sun began to go down, you and Akechi had decided to grab a bite to eat. The only stand still open was serving ice cream, which delighted you. After grabbing your cones, you made your way back down the boardwalk, hoping to find somewhere to sit. Akechi had started another conversation while you walked.

“Are you enjoying it?” He said, smiling at you.

“It’s delicious!” You replied, grinning at him.

Before you could ask him the same, a loud voice interrupted you.

“Oi, aren’t you that shitty detective?”

You looked up to see a group of people, now leering in your and Akechi’s direction. You looked to Akechi, his face still unchanged, but hand gripping his ice cream cone harder.

“Yes. Can I help you with something?” Akechi replied, his voice sharp. It was a stark contrast from his voice with you.

“We’re just wondering why you think it’s okay to show your face around here.” One of the young women in the group said, stepping closer to the two of you. “You’re real fucked up!”

You reached out to grip Akechi’s hand, tugging it gently. He didn’t move.

One of the men piped up next. “Yeah, and now you’ve tricked this dumb little bitch too! She must be real stupid to be with you.”

“Don’t you dare talk about her.” Akechi said, breaking free of your hand and taking a step forward. His face was contorted, eyes angry.

The group laughed, and Akechi tensed. Another member of the group spoke up. “What are you gonna do, little boy detective? You don’t know how to do anything!”

You watched Akechi’s hand ball into a fist. You took another step towards him, and glared at the group.

“Just leave. Please.” You said, trying to be polite, though you wanted to scream at them. You had hoped it would make them go away faster.

One of the women laughed. “Oooh, can’t even defend himself, he’s got his little girlfriend to stand up for him instead!”

“Why don’t you come with us, baby? We’re a lot of fun!” One of the men said. You could feel Akechi shaking now, trying to control his anger. You didn’t know what to do.

“L-let’s just leave, Goro.” You said, tugging at his shirt. He hesitated before he turned back to you, his face still laced with anger. The group leered and chanted at you, but thankfully they didn’t follow as you walked further down the boardwalk.

Akechi was silent as you walked, and you weren’t sure quite what to say either. You found a more secluded area and led him to it, turning to face him.

“Goro? Are you okay?” You said.

Akechi’s hands were shaking. “You think I’m weak. A coward.”

He kept his eyes downcast, nor daring to look at you.

“That’s not true.”

“But I couldn’t even say anything.” He replied, still looking away from you. “I’ve ruined things. This whole day.”

“Goro, please. It’s okay. Talk to me.” You said. He was still looking away.

You took a step towards him and he looked up at you, his eyes watery. “I failed you. Again. And I’m going to keep failing you, and you’ll leave like all the rest, and I’ll be miserable just like I deserve.”

“Goro…” You said softly. “Can I hug you?”

He paused for a moment. In times like these, he was usually berated or screamed at, told that he was better off not being in this world. But you had changed things for him, responding to his bursts of emotion with kindness and care.

He nodded, and you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him. He was taller than you, but you felt him crumple in your touch, his face buried in your neck. You felt him shaking in your touch, his hands gripping the back of your shirt tightly.

“Shh… It’s okay.” You said. You were glad no one seemed to be around. The intimacy of this moment was something to be cherished. “You have me, Goro. I’m not going anywhere.”

You heard a sob choke out of him, muffled by your shoulder. He was still shaking. You led him to bench behind you.

“Let’s sit down for a minute, okay?” You said quietly. He nodded, and the two of you made your way to the bench and sat down. Akechi had been hesitant to touch you, afraid to let himself feel comfort.

“We could… We could still be close to each other?” Akechi said, sounding very unsure. You weren’t even sure if he asked a question. “If that’s okay…”

“Of course.” You replied, scooting next to him. His body was still shaking. You felt him slowly put his arm out, hesitating to wrap it around you. You looked up to find him studying your face. His eyes were still puffy, but the tears had stopped. “Do you want to talk more?”

He wrapped his arm around you. His touch was still light, but it made you happy. “Not right now. It’s just… you just look very nice right now. You’re just calming to look at.”

It was your turn to blush. You laid your head on his shoulder and heard him take a sharp intake of breath.

“Ah, I’m sorry Goro, I did that without thinking.” You said, quickly lifting your head. He was still looking at you.

“No, please… It felt nice.” Akechi said. “It’s just… I’ve missed you. So much.”

You laid your head back down and felt him squeeze his arm around you tighter. He leaned his head down towards yours.

“I don’t want to lose you again.” He said, lips lightly brushing your forehead. “Let’s stay like this. Just for a bit.”

You stayed there for an hour, bodies comfortably pressed together, silent. You didn’t have to use words to know that the both of you were making up for lost time. ]

Since that day at the park, you had made an effort to always communicate with him. To really understand how he was feeling, and to help him as best as you could. You couldn’t fix a person. No, that wasn’t possible. But you were doing your best to help guide Akechi through life now, encouraging him to seek help and begin healing.

“Are you okay?” Akechi said, startling you. You had been lost in your own thoughts.

“Just thinking about you.” You replied, leaning over to whisper in his ear. “And how much I want to kiss you.”

Akechi’s cheeks turned pink. He still became flustered from praise and affection, having gone so long in his life without it. You delighted in making him happy.

You wanted to fluster him more, but an exclamation from Futaba interrupted you.

“It’s movie time!” She said, picking up her laptop triumphantly.

“Wait, we’re not watching it on that, are we?” Ann said. Futaba had a fancy gaming laptop, but the screen was too small for all ten of you.

“No, no, Ren has a fancy surprise upstairs for us.” Futaba replied. Ren just hummed in agreement before taking his apron off, having finished making drinks for the group. Futaba rushed ahead of you, Morgana trailing right behind her. The rest of the group followed suit, leaving you and Akechi to follow behind. Akechi reluctantly let go of your hand and got up, but extended it again to help you up.

“Why thank you, my prince.” You said, giggling and taking his hand.

“Anything for my princess.” He replied, stifling his own laugh. It was silly, but you two had found pleasure in calling each other pet names.

When you reached Ren’s room you were surprised to see the changes – twinkle lights adorned all the rafters, and what used to be an old CRT had been replaced by a large flat screen TV. There was some sort of blanket pile set up in the middle, most of your friends already sprawled out. A salt rock was letting off a gentle glow in the corner.

“Wow, Ren, this looks nice!” You said. Ren shrugged, but you saw him smile.

“He wanted to make it fancy n’ all for you guys. Both of us pitched in to buy this awesome TV!” Ryuji said, giving Ren a slap on the back. Ren just rolled his eyes, but you could tell he liked the attention. Both of them sat back down together, Ryuji’s arm slinging around Ren’s shoulder. Not so subtle anymore, you thought.

Akechi sat down near the back of the room, patting for you to sit down next to him. You had other ideas as you plopped yourself in-between his legs, resting your back on his chest. You heard him inhale sharply. He leaned his head towards you, lips brushing the top of your ear.

“In front of the others?” He said, resting his lips on your ear.

“Mm. It’s fine with me. Are you okay with it?” You said.

“Y-yes. Very much so.” He replied. You twisted around to look at him and gave him a soft smile.

“It makes me feel safe.” You said. He hummed in satisfaction, snaking his arms around your waist.

Futaba stood at the front of the room and clapped her hands. You were happy that she felt so confident now.

“Alright, it’s time for our feature film. For today’s pick, we’ll be watching ZAW 2!” Futaba said, hitting play on her laptop and scrambling to sit down.

Oh no. You weren’t exactly a fan of horror movies, especially ones with lots of blood and guts. You shifted uncomfortably, already nervous. Akechi gave you a gentle squeeze. He didn’t know about your dislike of horror movies, and now wasn’t the best time to let him know.

The beginning of the movie wasn’t even safe – the screen was immediately filled by the image of a mutilated body and the sound of a loud scream. Why the hell had Futaba picked this movie? You looked around the room, finding some eyes glued to the TV and some joining you in averting their eyes. Makoto was stress-eating some of the chocolate Ann had brought with her. You glanced up and saw Akechi was watching. You didn’t want to ruin the movie for him.

The next scenes were even worse, somehow increasingly violent. You were staring at the floor now, your heart racing. You could have tried to tolerate it if there was a plot, but it just seemed like a cheap movie for shock value. You shifted your body so you could rest some of your face on Akechi’s chest, curling as close to him as possible.

He lifted an arm from your body to reach your head, his hand gently stroking your hair.

“Not a fan?” He whispered. You shook your head. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

It was just a movie, but you felt reassured. He was always so gentle with you, his words never hiding malice behind them. He had always been gentle with you.

[ The first time you realized you and Akechi loved each other involved a grievous injury.

The Phantom Thieves had been in Mementos for most of the day, training and trying out different combinations of party members. Ren and Makoto had come up with an exhaustive list of combinations to try against different enemies, ranking them as they went.

You and Akechi had been in the party together multiple times today, both of you working together quite well. Though you tended to work well with everyone, something just clicked with him. Though the circumstances of his membership to the Phantom Thieves weren’t what you would call ideal, you and Akechi had made fast friends. He was always there to help you out, and you were always there to encourage him, inside and outside of battle.

And though you kept it hidden away from the others, you would often find yourself messaging Akechi late into the night, both of you unable to sleep. On hard days, you’d find him waiting for you after classes with your favorite drink, a dazzling smile on his face. Sometimes you’d even meet up and stroll through the darkness together, talking about whatever came to mind. You wondered if perhaps your bonding outside of battle is what made you two work so well together.

Ren had finally called for the last fight of the day, calling forth the two of you along with Ann. You were exhausted, but you knew everyone else was too. A few minutes later your party encountered a particularly tough group of enemies, Ren immediately calling out orders.

You had been hit a couple times, but not hard enough that you thought you needed healing. Akechi had insisted you heal yourself, but you reminded him of the limited rations the group had left. He reluctantly left the subject alone. The first two enemies went down thanks to Ann and Akechi. The last enemy left was enraged, its attacks suddenly hitting much harder.

“Just a little more!” Ren yelled. You watched as Akechi readied his Persona for a final attack and felt your heart jump when you saw the enemy suddenly rushing him, eyes ablaze.

“CROW!” You screamed, jumping in front of him without a second thought. You felt your body fly back, back slamming into the ground with enough force to crack it. The pain was immediate, searing and all-consuming.

Your vision was hazy, eyes heavy. You tried to move, to raise your hand, but nothing happened. You couldn’t even speak, a low groan leaving your throat instead. Pain bloomed from your chest, warm blood starting to seep from your injury. You tried to move again and your body burned, blood suddenly bursting from your mouth as you coughed.

You heard screaming, both your teammate’s and the scream of the shadow who had been destroyed. It was getting harder to see. Someone had come to your side, hands fluttering over your body.

“Hurry! HURRY!” You recognized Akechi’s voice, now strained and desperate. Someone else was beside you now, using whatever SP they had left to cast Recarm. You felt arms under you now, lifting you from the destroyed ground and cradling you to their chest.

“Oh god, please hold on. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Akechi said from above you, voice quiet and shaky. You felt something warm hit your face and realized he was crying. Ren quickly set a plan in motion to get you to the team’s doctor quickly, your body needing extra healing after how much damage you had taken. You wanted to reach up, to assure him you’d be okay, but you were weak. You felt your body start to go limp, Akechi’s voice above you again.

“Please, please stay with us—" He was saying more, but all you felt was endless darkness.

You woke up, body still aching. You wondered where you were, unfamiliar sounds and smells overwhelming you. It smelled… sterile. Your eyes were still heavy, fluttering as you tried to open them. You blinked, looking down at your body covered in bandages and hooked up to an IV. You remembered the screaming, the crack of your back as you had hit the ground and the feeling of the warm blood that covered your body.

It must have been bad, you thought. None of you had ended up in the hospital yet. Your thoughts were broken by a sudden voice.

“She’s awake!” You recognized Futaba’s voice, looking over to see her and Ren sitting next to your bed.

You tried to sit up, wincing as your body rejected the movement.

“Ah, don’t hurt yourself more! We were so worried.” Futaba said, she and Ren standing from their seats to move closer to you. You heard her sniff, watching as tears ran down her face.

“We thought we lost you.” Ren said, placing his hand over yours gently. You smiled at both of them, grateful they were here.

“I’m going to let everyone know.” Futaba said, digging her phone out of her pocket. Ren was running his thumb over your hand, his eyes downcast. You didn’t have any concerns about the gesture – his feelings for Ryuji were obvious. Instead, he seemed troubled.

“I’m sorry.” Ren said, looking back up at you. “I pushed us too hard.”

You simply looked at him, too tired to speak. You didn’t blame him. You squeezed his hand in response, trying to communicate your feelings. You sighed, your body urging you to go back to sleep.

“Rest, we’ll be here when you wake up.” His voice was reassuring, his hand still gently touching yours as you closed your eyes and drifted back off to sleep.

You were awoken this time by the sound of bickering.

“Shut up, Ryuji! You’re going to wake her up!”

“You’re going to wake her up with your loud mouth!”

“The both of you, quiet down.”

Ryuji and Ann, you thought. Morgana too. A quiet giggle left your mouth, followed by sudden silence.

You opened your eyes to find all your friends staring at you, eyes wide.

Haru spoke first, rushing to your side and grabbing your hand. “Oh my goodness, it’s so good to see you!”

You smiled at her and gently squeezed her hand back. Makoto joined her, placing her hand on your shoulder.

“We’re so glad you’re okay.” Her voice was soft, not as confident as usual.

“You idiots, you woke her up!” Morgana said, hopping up on the end of your bed. You could hear him purring. “Sorry about those two.”

Ryuji and Ann ignored him, walking over to greet you. Ann reached down to hug you gently and you leaned into her embrace as best you could, happy to see them.

Ryuji looked more awkward, his hand behind his head. “Thought you bit the dust for a minute.”

“Ryuji!” Ann said, standing and smacking him on the back of the head. “Not the time.”

Ryuji grumbled, pushing Ann over to wrap you in a hug. “Oi, she knows I’m joking.”

You weakly laughed and winced slightly under Ryuji’s hug, slightly too tight. Ryuji let go and you saw Yusuke hovering at the end of your bed.

“It’s good to see you’re okay.” He rummaged through a bag for a second, pulling out a small sketchbook. “I’ve worked on some things for you to look at while you recover. I know you’ll enjoy them.”

You smiled at Yusuke’s show of affection. Ren and Futaba were still there too, both of them coming to greet you once more. You heard a soft knock at the door, everyone’s head turning at the noise. Akechi stepped into the frame, his hands clenched tightly. You thought you saw a hint of anger on some of their faces. For what, you weren’t sure.

“Could I… come in?” Akechi said, his voice hesitant.

“Of course.” You replied, your voice hoarse. It was the first time you had spoken since you had woken up. Akechi stepped in, clearing his throat before he spoke again.

“May I have a moment with her? Alone?” He said. You saw Ryuji shoot Ren a look. Ren seemed hesitant, but finally grumbled a noise of approval.

Haru and Makoto reluctantly left your bedside, Haru squeezing your hand one more time. Everyone left the room save for Ren. He turned to look at you, placing his hand on yours again.

“Are you okay with this?” He said, looking intently at you. It felt strange. Why were they acting like this?

You nodded at him and he let go. He went to leave, pausing to look at Akechi. You couldn’t see Ren’s gaze, but the look on Akechi’s face told you it wasn’t friendly. Ren looked back at you one more time before leaving, gently sliding the door shut behind him.

Akechi stared at you for a moment before walking towards the side of your bed, eyes downcast. You eyed him curiously. All of this was so strange.

“Hi.” You said, smiling. He looked up at you, the hint of a smile on his face.

“Hello.” He replied. His hand hovered over yours, unsure. You moved your hand to touch his gloved fingertips, watching as his body relaxed. He laid his hand on the bed, fingertips still carefully pressed against yours.

Akechi was staring at you now.

“Do I have something on my face?” You said, weakly laughing. He didn’t laugh.

“You… I’m… I’m so sorry.” Akechi said quietly. You looked at him and watched as a tear slid down his face.

You were confused. You had no idea what had happened, other than the memory of the pain. “Sorry? What for?”

He looked startled at your response, body stiffening, his fingertips pulling away from yours. You missed the touch already.

“You don’t… remember?” He said, giving you an incredulous look.

“Not at all.” You replied. You heard him sigh. His hand was gripping your bedsheet tightly. “What happened?”

Akechi was silent, looking into your eyes again. He looked pained. “You took a fatal hit for me.”

Oh. You remembered it vaguely now, the fear in your heart when you saw Akechi was about to be hit. You suddenly understood why your teammates had looked angry – they weren’t exactly warming up to Akechi the way you were.

“I’m sorry. I should have been doing better, it’s my fault that you’re like this—”

“Akechi.” You said, interrupting him. You pushed your hand forward, fingertips touching his again. He didn’t pull away.

“It was my choice. I made a vow to protect my teammates. My friends.” You said. You were starting to get tired again. He opened and closed his mouth, unable to form a response. He just looked at you.

“I… I should have protected you, though.” He said, another tear rolling down his face. “You are the most precious thing in this world to me.”

His face suddenly turned pink at the realization of what he had said. You felt your heart flutter.

“Akechi… You’re important to me too.” You said, smiling at him. He smiled back this time, small and unsure. “You do owe me one though.”

Akechi chuckled. You felt warmth blooming in your chest, ebbing just a bit of the pain.

“Will you stay with me while I sleep?” You said. He nodded and reached to brush a piece of your hair back. The gesture was intimate, his touch light. You closed your eyes, letting your body relax as you tried to go back to sleep.

You felt Akechi slip his hand under yours, fingers gently sliding in-between your own. His skin was warm against yours. You realized he had taken his glove off.

You felt the warmth in your chest again before falling back asleep. ]

Another chorus of screams came from the TV and you curled even tighter into him. The movie was silent for a moment before a loud gunshot came from the screen, causing both of you to jump. You felt your skin begin to prickle, the familiar feeling of anxiety rushing over your skin. It was too much. You had to get out of here. You crawled out of Akechi’s lap and quickly went down the stairs, relief washing over you when the sounds of the TV were no longer loud. You sat in the furthest booth to drown out the sounds completely.

You had never liked guns. You didn’t find them appealing the way a lot of people did, and you had winced upon seeing your teammate’s during your first excursion to the Metaverse. What had sealed the deal for your feel was coming face to face with Akechi’s shadow, and the feeling of his gun pressed harshly against your cheek.

[ You wondered if your friends were going to have to drag your broken and bloody body out of the palace. You wondered if he would be able to handle it, watching himself splatter your brains against the floor. Maybe your thoughts should have been more urgent with the barrel of a gun pressed into your cheek, but hey, no one said looking death in the face had to be rational.

It could have been worse. Akechi could have ambushed you instead of joining you. Akechi’s help had given you the heads up on the majority of Shido’s palace. You didn’t blame him for not expecting to see himself there, twisted and full of malice. Even more, you didn’t blame him for not knowing how cognizant his shadow self would be – all the love he felt for you had seemed to turn to vile hatred in the mind of the other Akechi.

You hadn’t forgiven him, of course. But when he had texted you days after the betrayal in the Casino Palace, you couldn’t ignore the fact that he could help Ren. You couldn’t ignore the sobbing on the phone when you finally picked up, his voice panicky and desperate. And so, with Akechi’s intel and willingness, the plan the Phantom Thieves had set-up went into motion with one exception – the supposed suicide of Ren was not carried out violently by Akechi. Careful planning let the idea spread in the news.

Akechi had groveled at your feet when he finally saw you in person again. It wasn’t easy to accept his help – you would have refused if Ren had rejected him. Akechi had been eager to give every detail he knew, telling the Phantom Thieves the truth about Shido and his manipulation. Thus, the infiltration of the palace had gone smoothly, until you had reached the engine room.

All of you had split up to look around for clues. Everything was normal, until you found yourself on the floor, someone’s shoe digging into your back.

“Ah, the pet.” You recognized the voice – it was Akechi’s. But it wasn’t normal, no, this voice was laced with venom. Your struggling against the floor alerted the rest of the group, horrified gasps resounding throughout the room, something close to a growl leaving Ren’s throat. A moment later you were dragged up by your hair, a hard and cold object suddenly digging into your cheek.

“I thought you would have given up this vice by now.” Cognitive Akechi said, clicking his tongue. You felt the gun dig further into your cheek.

“The fuck is this, Crow?” Ryuji yelled. You saw him take step towards Akechi, who looked horrified.

“I don’t, god, I didn’t know this would happen.” Akechi stuttered out, panic laced in his words.

The cognitive Akechi tugged on your hair harshly, hot pain flaring in your scalp. A sick laugh bubbled out of his throat, and you saw your Akechi tense.

“You know, you were just a tool for him.” The cognitive Akechi said, pulling your face up to look at his. An awful grin was plastered on his face, eyes shining bright red. “Until he got too attached.”

“That’s not true—” You heard Akechi say, the cognitive Akechi interrupting him.

“What a fool you were.” His voice was practically a hiss now as he spoke. “You did all those awful things, and for what? To give it up for this?”

He kicked you in the side, and you cried out in pain. Akechi made a loud noise of protest, and you felt the gun press into your cheek harder.

“Shido was going to get rid of this, anyways.” He said, his faced distorted in a smirk. “And you, too. You meant nothing to him.”

“That’s enough.” Ren said, his voice low and dangerous. “Let her go.”

The cognitive Akechi laughed again, pressing the gun into your cheek again. “One move, and I shoot.”

You could feel your heartbeat pounding in your chest, chest heaving from panic. You were going to die, and there was nothing you could do about it.

“Oh dear, are you frightened?” He said, sneering at you. “I know. Let’s make it personal.”

The cognitive Akechi shot a devilish smile at your Akechi. “Come, then. Do it yourself.”

Akechi looked at you, eyes wide with fear. And then you looked up at your friends, some of their faces stained with tears. Makoto, though, had a look you recognized – determination. You were going to take your chance.

“Please.” You rasped out. You saw Akechi clench his hands into fists. “Please, Goro.”

“I can’t.” He said, his voice shaky. You met his eyes and gave him a hard look, glancing to Makoto next to him. You saw as he bit his lip – he understood.

“Hm, then perhaps I’ll make this drawn out?” You heard the Cognitive Akechi laugh and saw how Akechi tensed again. Akechi met your eyes, fear evident on his face. He took a slow step forward, and again, until he was within shooting range. He summoned his gun, identical to the one in the cognitive Akechi’s, and shakily lifted it, eyes meeting yours again.

The cognitive Akechi made a hum of satisfaction, lowering his gun from your face. A loud shot rang out and you saw the cognitive Akechi stumble backwards, groaning angrily. Makoto’s gun was in the air, smoke flowing from the end of it. The gamble had worked – the cognitive Akechi had been too self-assured, a trait he shared with your Akechi.

You scrambled away as fast as you could and heard another shot ring out, another horrible groan emerging from the cognitive Akechi. You turned back, looking between the two. Your Akechi’s gun was smoking, his hands shaking. The cognitive Akechi was on the floor, eyes wide and staring at you as he died.

It made you feel sick, stomach twisting in disgust as you watched the cognitive Akechi fade into black smoke, your Akechi collapsing to his knees. Your friends rushed over to you, smothering you in hugs and “Are you okays”, each of them talking over the other.

But it was Akechi you were concerned about. You silently got up and kneeled in front of him. A moment later you wrapped around him. He was sobbing, telling you again how sorry he was, how he didn’t want to be like this.

You knew he was carrying around years of pain and hurt, the sting of rejection from everyone in his life that was supposed to love him. He swallowed that bitter pill for years, poison seeping through his veins. He had to account for his own choices – you knew that. But you also knew that despite everything, he was worthy of more.

There was so much you wanted to say. Your heart was still broken – you knew this well. But in this moment, there was only one thing you could say to him.

“I love you.” ]

That day played in your head often, the memory of the cold metal against your cheek vivid and unsettling. It was only a few seconds later that you heard someone descending the steps, then a familiar voice softly calling your name. Akechi came to sit next to you in the booth, his arm wrapping around you.

“I don’t think I was enjoying that movie either.” He murmured, gently rubbing your shoulder. “Do you want to leave?”

Leaving would make you sad – but you had been unaware that today’s movie choice would bother you so much. Besides, on a lucky break, your group would be able to hang out next weekend as well. Time alone with Akechi sounded more appealing.

“Yeah. Let me just text Ren.” You replied. You sent a text saying you weren’t feeling well, but to tell the group you loved them and would see them next weekend. You heard Akechi groan when he saw Ren’s reply, which was simply a winky face emoji.

“Do you want to go on a walk before we go home?” Akechi asked, squeezing your shoulder. You nodded, and Akechi got up and repeated his actions from earlier. You exited the shop, locking the door behind you on your way out.

Akechi’s hand slipped into yours like it had a hundred times before.

Before, when you and Akechi had danced around the nature of your relationship, the idea of no one knowing what the two of you had troubled him deeply. Things were better now, as Akechi had taken the initiative to work on his unhealthy behaviors. Sometimes you’d still notice the way his jaw would clench when a stranger acted a little too friendly, or how his arm would wrap around you just a bit too tight.

[ It didn’t take you long to realize that Akechi was a little bit… possessive. You had been friends with Akechi for a couple months now – your late-night conversations now a norm, his presence besides you during fights a given. He was always checking if you were okay, and always wanted to be around you. You’d seen the slight grimace on his face when you talked to one of the boys in the group, especially if it was Ren.

You didn’t miss the way how sometimes he would say “my” before sweetly calling your name, or how he’d always take you to uncrowded areas to spend time together.

Still, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t you enjoyed his company. You saw through him the second you met – his artificial happiness was hiding a deeply lonely person. So, for the time being, you’d brushed it off as Akechi being insecure.

Once, Yusuke had asked you to model for an outfit he had seen in front of Akechi. By the look on his face, you’d of thought Yusuke had asked you to come over and fuck him. There was no romantic intent in Yusuke’s question – but Akechi was jealous. You accepted Yusuke’s request; you had no reason not to.

It had been a perfectly normal day with Yusuke. The outfit was an elegant, flowing white gown. Yusuke had you pull one sleeve down, exposing your shoulder. The dress hugged your hips and showed the curve of your chest, but in a way that you found sensual. It wasn’t anything you were uncomfortable with. In fact, you had felt beautiful, Yusuke’s small hums while he worked confirming that he was pleased.

During a break, you had sent a silly picture of you making a face in your group chat. Everyone had responded by saying how cute you looked, even with the silly expression. Akechi, however, had responded with something that slightly embarrassed you, a sweeping text of how you were the definition of beauty. The attention did make you feel good, even if his message had been cheesy.

You bit your lip, considering a risky move. Maybe you could send him a personal picture. Nothing too crazy – just a little more… personalized. The next picture you sent was just for him, a selfie of yourself in Yusuke’s pose. Your lips were parted, your hair wrapped delicately around your shoulders, bare skin peeking through. The picture cut off so you could see just the hint of your chest. It didn’t take long for a response.

Akechi: You look ravishing.

Akechi: But I am at work, you know. I can’t be looking at things like this, what would they think?

Akechi: Let me know when you’ll be done. I’ll pick you up. Be safe.

You smiled to yourself, knowing that you had riled him up a little. A moment later Yusuke came back, and you resumed the painting, having to fight to keep the smile off your face.

A few hours later you messaged Akechi to let him know you finished. You and Yusuke exchanged pleasantries before you went to wait outside, still dressed in the gown. The night air felt refreshing on your skin, the beautiful stars above you making it even better.

Akechi’s familiar black car rolled up a few minutes later. Akechi came out to greet you before you even reached the door. You noticed how his eyes had hovered at your chest before meeting your eyes. He opened the car door for you like he always did, and then climbed back in himself.

“Thank you so much.” You said, turning to give him a smile.

“Always. Someone as beautiful as you can’t be walking alone at night.” He said, smiling back at you. You just rolled your eyes, blush creeping over your face. A few minutes passed in silence as he drove, your eyes almost drifting shut to the soft music playing over the radio.

“Are you okay? He didn’t do anything weird, did he?” Akechi said, making you jump. His voice sounded a little off.

“Oh no, I’m fine. Just tired.” You replied. “Yusuke was the same as always.”

Akechi nodded at your response, turning his attention back to the road. A few minutes later you pulled up to your apartment, Akechi seeming reluctant to leave. Well… maybe you could invite him in.

“Do you want to come in and have a drink?” You asked. His face brightened immediately. Once you made it inside, you turned to find Akechi giving you a strange look.

“Is something wrong?” You asked. Before you could say anything else, Akechi had gently pushed you back into the door and captured your mouth in a kiss. When you didn’t pull away, he deepened the kiss, his tongue running along your lower lip. A small moan left your mouth, and you felt Akechi press further into you.

His hand had found its way into your hair, pulling you closer to him. He broke off the kiss for a moment, meeting your eyes. “You don’t know what you do to me.” He said. You recognized the lust in his, face flushed pink. His lips met your again in another fevered kiss, tongues exploring each other’s mouths. He pulled away again and you let out a whine of frustration, low chuckle coming from his throat.

“I can’t believe Yusuke had you all to himself today.” He rasped, voice low. He placed a soft kiss on your lips before continuing.

He trailed his tongue down your jawline until he reached your neck and started placing gentle kisses on it. You wrapped yours arms around him now, pushing his hips flush to yours. He pulled away again. “No one should see you like this. You’re too beautiful.” He whispered before returning to your neck. You could feel the noticeable bulge in his work pants, and you shifted yourself even closer to him. His lips pulled off for you a moment as he let out a strained moan before returning to his ministrations, lips now sucking and nipping at your skin.

He deepened his efforts, his bites making you shudder now. You knew you would have marks tomorrow. Really, you didn’t even know Akechi had it in him to do things like this.

“Goro,” You whined, and you felt his mouth leave your neck. “You’ll cover me in marks.”

He stood up and looked you into eyes, his free hand coming to rest under your chin.

“That’s the point, my dear.” He said, giving you one of those dazzling smiles. “Everyone will know that you’re mine.”

He pulled away, leaving you dazed. His words should have bothered you, but you were still in a state of bliss.

“Now,” he said, gently grabbing your hand. “I’ll get us those drinks. I’m sure you must be tired.” ]

But now, when you would remind him that you loved him and that you weren’t going to leave him, he’d apologize. You had helped him reroute his unhealthy behaviors to other outlets, reminding him that he needed to take care of himself too.

When his hand met yours now, it was a gesture of love.

ADD MORE

[ The first time you felt your heart break, it was because of him.

You didn’t want to believe it. No. NO. They were wrong. You pleaded with them, begged them. He would never do this to them. To you. Ren had put his hand on your shoulder, and told you that he was sorry, so sorry, but this is how things were. How things would have to be for the greater good. How the Phantom Thieves were going to be betrayed. You wanted to scream. But still, you held on, waiting with hope that they were wrong.

You held yourself together when you met up before the Casino infiltration. Your heart pounded when you looked at Akechi. He was acting normal, so normal that you wanted to shake him and ask him what he was doing. Was he really going to do this? Why? You jumped when you felt his hand graze your back, his voice soft.

“Don’t worry.”

You couldn’t even look at him, and he didn’t press you further. Did he know what you knew? No, of course not. He had been outsmarted, and he didn’t even know it.

Akechi had insisted on being on the team, and Ren conceded. You volunteered as well, much to Ren’s concern. Makoto had joined as well. He was right to be concerned – your fighting was off, your mind frazzled. He took you to the side and asked if you wanted to sit out for a bit, but you refused. Your nails dug into your skin as you spoke in hushed tones with Ren, pleading. Akechi gave you two a curious look.

If Akechi had wanted to say something, he didn’t. Instead, you watched as he took hit after hit for you during battle. You felt his gaze on you as you explored the palace, his hand occasionally brushing yours. Every touch felt like another dagger in your heart. How could he do this?

It didn’t take long to complete the palace. The calling card was sent as planned, and the dread in your heart felt even heavier.

The battle was tough, Akechi still taking hits for you, fighting as if it were his sworn duty to protect you. You wanted to cry.

When the treasure emerged, you allowed yourself a smidgen of hope, that maybe it wasn’t true. The group had to split, Ren giving you a knowing look as you insisted on going with Akechi. A look that told you it was true, that this was hopeless. You just grit your teeth and followed Akechi, his emotions still not betraying him.

He stopped, turning to face you. He looked sad.

“It’s true, then.” You said flatly, looking at him. His expression didn’t change.

“I’m sorry.” Akechi said, stepping close to you and wrapping his arms around you. You felt his heartbeat, quick and erratic. You wanted to scream, to hit him, but you couldn’t. You just stepped away, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Why?” Your voice was hoarse, your eyes now on the verge of tears.

He was silent for a moment. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Of course.” Your heart was pounding now, every muscle in your body telling you to run.

“If you come with me, I can still protect you.” He said, his voice sounding weak now.

“Never.” You replied. You looked at him, fire burning in your eyes. You loved him, you hated him. “You lied to us. To me.”

“I—” He started, but you interrupted him.

“No. No.” You were crying now, starting to fall apart. “Fuck. Was everything a lie?”

He tried to step towards you again, but you pushed back against him. He winced at your rejection.

He opened his mouth to speak again, but you couldn’t bear to hear it.

“Just stop. STOP.” You cried out. You turned to leave and felt his hand grab your wrist, his grip tight.

“Please.” He said, his voice cracking. “Don’t leave.”

You turned to look at him, his hand still tight on your wrist. You looked at him, anger coursing through your veins. You loved him. You hated him. You couldn’t say anything.

“I need you.” He pleaded, trying to pull you closer. You dug your heels in, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “Only I can protect you.”

“You already failed, Goro.” You hissed at him, his hand finally releasing your wrist. You looked at him one last time before turning and running, his desperate shouts echoing behind you.

It didn’t matter anymore. ]

ADD A LOT MORE OOPS SKIPPING A BUNCH BUT I HAD AN IDEA FOR THE LAST PART

“Is this okay?” He murmured, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. His lips were close to your ear, breath tickling your ear lobe. You nodded, but Akechi didn’t move yet. “Please, tell me what you want.”

You could feel his lips curl into a smirk against your ear. Devious bastard.

“Goro, please… t-touch me.” You said, voice wavering. He made a hum of satisfaction in response, his fingers dipping under your shirt now and hand running gently over your chest. Your breath hitched in your throat as he maneuvered his other hand under, his soft hands running freely over you now. His fingertips played with the edge of your bra.

“Do you want me to keep going?” He said. You nodded again. He didn’t press you for an answer this time as his hands slid underneath your bra, giving you an experimental squeeze. His fingers brushed across your nipples, thumb lingering over them. You felt him shift underneath you.

“Could I take this off?” He said, lips against your neck now. You felt safe like this, his body surrounding you.

“Yes.” You replied. His hands left your bra and moved to take off your shirt, gently pulling it over your head and placing it neatly to the side. He brushed your hair to one side, placing a kiss on the back of your neck.

“Ah, you’re wearing my favorite.” He said, pressing another kiss to your neck. “It’s almost a shame to take it off.”

“add more” You replied, twisting in his lap to face him. He was watching you with rapt attention as you moved your hands behind your back, unhooking your bra. You slowly slid it off, placing it on top of your shirt. He was speechless for a moment, taking time to watch your chest rise and fall.

“add more” You said, smirking at him. You turned back around, pressing your back against him again. He was warm against your back.

“You’re stunning.” He said, hands wandering back up your exposed body to caress you. There was no pretense with him in private. He said what he meant. For this, you appreciated him. He gently grabbed both your breasts again, fingers taking the time to play with your nipples. A squeak came out of you as he rolled your right nipple between his fingers, testing. You pressed your back into him, his hardness even more evident now.

“Do you like this?” He said, voice low. His other hand began to play with your left nipple, shiver jumping through your spine. You moaned quietly in response, and you felt his chest rumble as he chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes, hm?”

#misc.txt #wip #persona 5 #violence cw #not sfw #goro akechi #UNFINISHED

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torikawa · 4 years

Text

Tōru Oikawa FanFiction Part #1

'Mixed Realities' a love story between [F/N] [L/N] and Tōru Oikawa.

This Fanfiction includes the following~

Happy Ending

Sexual Themes

Explicit Words

Kinks

Friends to Lovers

Strangers to Lovers

Sad scenarios in the Middle

Fluff

Comedy

[F/N] = First Name

[L/N] = Last Name

[N/O/S] = Name Of School

[F/N] [L/N], a girl who attends to [N/O/S] was known to be a Huge Otaku and the newest Manager of the Boys Volleyball Team. She's a huge fan of the Anime Haikyuu! Looking up to the Characters especially Oikawa. She thought of him as such an amazing character who deserved the world! She basically Simped for him whenever she could.

"Did you see the new Episode?! Oikawa showed up for less than a second but I think I fell for him all over again" [F/N] said with a grin spreading across her face, her eyes glued onto the Screen Shot she took of him.

"Here she goes again." Julien muttered under his breath, glaring daggers into [F/N]'s smaller figure.

"Oh come on! Hearing her rant about her 2D Boyfriend is honestly funny-" Ace laughed in.

"No wonder she's still single, too busy SIMPING for guys who don't exi-" Interrupted by a sharp smack on the shoulder, Leon choked on his food.

"Oh come on! You can't deny that he's the hottest Character in Haikyuu!!" [F/N] chimed in between the boys Laughter.

"You say that about every guy in Haikyuu." Julien dead panned.

"You're just salty that I don't talk about Sakusa as much!"

"Tch." He looked away, his nose scrunching up along with his mask.

"Pfft, don't be mad Juju!" [F/N] squeezed Julien's cheek through his mask, pink scattering across his cheeks as he swats her hand away.

He muttered a small 'whatever' before he got up and walked away.

"Mmm, I think our own little Sakusa likes you [F/N]" Ace said with a snicker.

"He has a point. Julien's a huge Germaphobe yet he treat you as if you're the only pure/clean thing that exists" Leo added, his words mumbled from him chewing on his food.

[F/N] stared at her 2 Friends, dumbfounded. She slowly looked away before moving a strand of her hair behind her ear. She couldn't bring herself to see Julien looking at her as someone more than just a friend.

He was tall, handsome, smart, and above all the boy who the girls swoon over in the School. But there aren't any proof of him liking her, atleast not yet?

"I still can't believe that, but anyways! It's almost practice, we should probably get going or we'll be late" She got up slowly, slinging her bag over her shoulder right shoulder.

Ace and Leo sighed in anticipation, upset about how stupid their little manager was when it came to romance.

It didn't take long for them to arrive at the Gym, Julien and the rest of the Team were already practicing their serves.

"You guys are a bit late" The coach said with a sympathetic smile.

"Sorry we wer-"

"[F/N] ate so much, we had to wait for our little manager to be finished because we didn't want her left alone" Ace said with a snort. Causing Leo to burst out of laughter as he jogged towards the rest of the team.

[F/N] gave Ace a smack on the arm, her face beat red. It caused most of the boys who were practicing their serves to snicker.

Meanwhile, Julien kept his stone cold face. Simply not bothered by the fact the others were basically dying of laughter by now. Though as his eyes landed on his dear Friend, a teasing smile spread across his face.

[F/N] looked away embarrassed, trying her best to avoid Julien's teasing gaze.

After 2 hours of practicing, it finally came to an end. With [F/N] handing out each of the Players water bottles.

For Julien, she had to rub the shit out of his bottle. It was something she had to do before handing it to him. Of course at first, she was kind of offended. But now that she was one of the few people who were actually able to touch him, it made her feel special.

"Here" [F/N] said with a smile on her face, slowly handing Julien his Bottle. He stared down at her, nodding before giving a small 'thanks'

She ended up walking home alone today, Julien had to get home fast to take care of his Nephew, Ace had to go out with his Girlfriend, and Leon as usual walked on a different path since he lived in the opposite direction.

It didn't take long for her to reach her front door. She reached into her pockets and pulled out her keys, professionally sticked it into the keyhole with a turn, causing the door to open.

"I'm home!" [F/N] screamed out, but then a sudden shock hit her. Her parents were off on a vacation, so she'd have to live alone for a few weeks. "Oops- Forgot"

Slowly, she took her shoes off. Placing them ever so gently against the shoe rack before ascending the stairs of her house. But then, that's when she realized. Something felt so off about her surroundings, but why?

[F/N] continued her way towards her bedroom slowly, her legs shaking with each step she took.

Her hand pressed against the door as she pushed it open, revealing her bedroom. She stepped inside cautiously, her eyes scanning her room.

A minute passed with her standing still. And yet nothing happened. 'Huh, I guess it was just my imagination-' Though before she could step forward to enter her room fully, a large hand grasped her mouth, forcefully pinning her against the wall.

"Who the fuck are you and where the Hell am I?" The dark figure yelled out, his hand still dangerously close to choking her. She couldn't tell who this was, and she couldn't have known why the Hell this person was here in the first place!

[F/N] felt a surge of fear flow through her body as she whimpered against the touch.

"Are you gonna talk or stay quiet?"

"P-Please..- I have no idea why you're here just please let me go!"

The boy eventually let go of her neck, stepping back while letting out a sigh.

[F/N] didn't hesitate to flick the lights on, snapping her head back to the boy. Only to have her eyes widen and her mouth open. 'N-No way..-' she thought in her head.

The Boy infront of her stood at over (6'0"), chocolate brown hair, and eyes. The features of his body were all so familiar with her.

"Oi..Oikawa..-?" [F/N] muttered, loud enough for the boy to hear.

"How do you know my name" Oikawa deadpanned, his cold eyes staring down at her smaller figure.

"I...no w-way- this can't be happening I.. this is a d-dream I..-" She stepped forward, causing him to step back in confusion and fear.

He wasn't used to his surroundings, nor was he used to having to look at a mirror with his different yet similar face.

"Stay back, I don't know who you are." Tōru kept his distance from her, he didn't show any fear whatsoever. But deep down he was panicking. Where was he? How did he get here? And why was he here?

[F/N] sighed, calming down a bit to hold herself back from bursting out into tears. She looked into Oikawa's half lidded eyes and began to explain how he was a Fictional character she looked up to, a character who wasn't supposed to exist but yet still ended up being in her room PHYSICALLY. Was this a way of God giving her a Gift? A gift of someone she treasured and looked up to the most? Perhaps.

Tōru's eyes softened, he scanned her room only to look at the merch [F/N] baught of himself. It's crazy to believe, but it's the only logical explanation; How he ended up transferring into a different reality, a different dimension. It all made sense in his head but it was hard to believe. How could this girl look so calm? Was she expecting this? Though, she was caught off guard when she realized who he was. So Oikawa shook off the thought, and eventually let out a smile.

"Is it alright if I stay here until I figure out a way to head back..?" He questioned, his head tilting to the side as his usual yet none genuine smile spread across his cheeks. He wanted to deal with this situation without having to face it alone.

"O-Ofcourse..!" [F/N] quickly looked around, before settling her bag on her [F/C] bean bag.

"Do you live alone?"

"Oh, actually I live with my Parents but they're off on a vacation for 3 weeks"

"I see~" Oikawa hummed, before plopping himself on her bed. He may look and act calm and collected. But inside he was worrying about how his friends and family would act with his sudden disappearance from his own reality.

"Are you okay? Do you feel hungry? I could cook for you if you want" [F/N] said as she sat beside him.

Tōru was caught off guard from her sudden approach, but he paid no mind. He didn't get any harmful nor dangerous vibes from the stranger.

"Actually, I'm not hungry at all. But I do have a question or two that I would like for you to answer"

"Ask awayyyy!" [F/N] said with a huge goofy grin her face, causing the setter to let out a chuckle. She couldn't keep in her excitement with having her idol infront of her.

"Pfft, now, what's your name Stranger?"

"Stra- ah right- I'm [F/N] [L/N]"

"Ah~ what a cute name [F/N]-chan! Is it alright if I call you that or are you uncomfortable with it?" Tōru asked with a tilt of his head.

"A-Actually I don't mind you calling me by my first name.. But, that means I get to call you Tōru-kun then!"

"Tōru, just call me Tōru." He replied softly.

[F/N] could practically feel her heart flutter. Was she really falling for Oikawa for real? Was he really THE Oikawa Tōru..

Little did she know, this was the start of an unbreakable bond. A bond that will soon blossom into romance.

[Original Idea, do not steal]

#oikawa x reader #toru oikawa #oikawa x y/n #oikawa #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa fic #oikawa fluff #oikawa torū #oikawa x you #oikawa toru

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hanawrites404 · 3 years

Text

Wynne's Diary - Bonds with Asra

@sweetalnazar

This place was fucking sickening, first of all. The small wooden cabin was dimly lit with yellow and vermilion lamps, tinting the room with similar colour as the fizzy nauseous drink settled in front of me. The prickling stench of strong alcohol and hot sweat was evident in the air, with deafening shanties and cheers of both sober and drunk customers buzzing through the whole compartment, leaving a whole aroma of disdain and queasiness.

I told them numerous times it was a bad idea, FOR A TOTAL OF THIRTY TWO TIMES TO BE PRECISE. But NOOOO they HAD TO ignore my reasoning and arrive but also haul me to this fucking cursed place for some sweet fucking lady company and to drink the fucks out of their fucking useless brains. JUST FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC I SAY. THIS HAD TO BE THE BEST DAY EVER!!!!

But even after all this, here I was, a bit tipsy myself from my lemon alcohol as my spouse and his ginger friend was gutting down their sixth shot of salty bitters. I had never liked that drink since it gave off a taste like sweat on the tongue, but as I had no choice to go home without getting even a bit drunk at the raven, so I had chosen the right and just amount of my beverage unlike two hooligans I am sadly aware of.

Yare yare, boys will always be boys. Though both of them were very much older than me. Fucking man-children, I swear.

"Let's see if you can chuck this one out, Asra!" The child nudged the other child's arm with a glass of the horrible liquid in his gloved hand. His pale cheeks were on fire, and so was the case with the other guy. Both were drowning in the booze, while I just calmly yet internally irritatingly watched both of them as I sipped my glass more civilly, trying my best to not pay any mind to them and pretend that I was an unfortunate stranger.

"Oh you are challenging me, Ilya" Asra taunted, shifting closer to the ginger and holding the surface of the goblet and the material of the other man's gloves with his fingers.

"Oh, am I?" The doctor's smirk got bigger as he stroked the other person's nails. Both of them gazed into each other's eyes, to find out who would lose the contact. I just sighed and yawned a bit. Though the shanties were ear-piercing, they bored me and certainly weren't feeding my interest. It's not that I didn't like the style of it, but more like it was lacking the feel of home I usually feel when I listen to music.

To me, music was a way to express, to reach out to the world and its natural treasures and wonders, to love and appreciate the miracle known as life. It was like an own language in itself. It was happy, it was melancholic, it was lustful. But it was never expressionless or unpleasant. That would be noise, not music. A violation of our poor fragile eardrums, that would be. But that's a rant for later.

Now, what was this feeling of home you ask? The explanation was very simple. I draw.......similarities of my life from music. I make relations with them, like a bond of my life energy and the power, music holds. I am an expressive person, believe me, or not. I keep my feelings hidden, but that doesn't mean my true passion is never seen under the light. It is seen, but only during the right times when I feel no one would question me for my openness. Now that's the feeling of home, where I can do whatever I want, however, I want to, yet I don't feel like an outcast or a stranger dancing in nowhere. Now that's home for me.

And this fucking shanty wasn't entertaining me at all. I'm sorry.

But I still appreciate the hard work the musicians were doing to entertain others here at the raven. I can at least give them tips for that. Lots of tips so they could know someone deeply pities them. However, I would never dare to order them to stop the music and go home. It's almost equal to burying someone alive, and I am not a bad person. I'm just mean. There is a difference, ok? Good? Good.

"There ya go, that's my brave magician" Julian patted Asra's back who was now chugging down what I suspected as, the tenth shot. He was breathless when he slammed down the glass on the table, his hair in front of his face and a bit of cough escaping from his lips.

"There there, you made it Asra. You made it. I lost the bet. You happy now?" Ilya lightly punched his back as Asra tried to cough the burn on his throat and attempted to breathe in and out. Now what kind of bet were they talking about and why I wasn't aware of it, I wondered. Was I...... becoming an outcast among them??

I rested my head on my palm, my eyes staring at Ilya, then at Asra. They were having drinking competitions together all the time and goofing around like good friends while here I was, zoning in and out, ranting about shanties and counting the bubbles in my leftover drink. Why was I here at all? Shouldn't I just leave and let them have their hangouts and hangovers? Shouldn't I just have a good night sleep and let my husband and his friend return home drunk and messed up and find them in the morning collapsed near the door naked??? I didn't know.

But...I guess both the options sounded equally right at that time.

As I saw Julian leading Asra to the front stage near the musicians, and pushing him on his feet for a boost. Looks like he was urging Asra to sing as the members readied their instruments.

I.....had never heard Asra sing before. And I wondered why he suddenly decided to sing now, in front of so many unknown people. Was it the liquor taking over him?? Or was it because I never asked him to sing, he didn't do for me. But he was doing for Ilya because he asked him so?

And again...I thought both the options sounded equally right.

I began to leave, I didn't want any more disappointment to mist over me now, also I was feeling quite tired. I was done for tonight, my hand reaching out to grab my cloak and pull it over myself and exit through the door, already preparing my mind to forget them till the next morning arrives.

But I stopped, as soon as I heard something calling me.

Home.......

"Wynne...I know you want to leave. But please listen to this before you go and have a good sleep, okay?" I heard the shameless moron speak. Now, what was he trying to pull from his trickery sleeves??? Another shanty?? Please don't.

But......what I next heard from him genuinely formed goosebumps on my skin........

He was singing a song...... but not an ordinary song.......

It was our song......It was Home!

I turned to him, my hair gently swaying with the cool breeze that entered the raven from the alleys. Asra had his eyes closed, and he was in blissful peace. His hands were on his chest, where his heart was, and his voice cooed like the hymn of angels.

He was singing our song, the song we both made, the song we both created.

The song which tells the story of our unbreakable bond.

Through ups and downs, through crests and troughs, through mountains and seas. Our love was like a river, it flowed evergreen. We fought, we loved, we hurt, we healed. That was our journey and it all started with a melody.

We had nothing to lose, and we had a lot to share. We had nothing in our minds but affection and care. It may sound ridiculous, it may sound weird, but who was to know how much we have endeared.

This is a bad poem, I think so too. But a tale shared by a couple of two. I glanced at him and he glanced at me, and I saw our hearts set free.

Leaning near the walls I smiled and looked nowhere, but he sang his heart out everywhere.

But he was a voyager, he was meant to roam.

And he being a madman, spoke of our home.........

#the arcana #the arcana game #fan apprentice #wynne toprak #arcana apprentice #arcana mc #arcana oc #asra alnazar #asra the magician #the arcana asra #asra x mc #asra x oc #julian devorak #the arcana julian #ilya devorak #doctor devorak #ilyushka devorak #asraweek2021

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addiewolfe · 3 years

Text

Have you seen ADELAIDE 'ADDIE' WOLFE ? This TWENTY-NINE year old is a B&B OWNER who resides in BROOKLYN. SHE has been living in NYC for TWO YEARS, and is known to be RESILIENT and ALLOCENTRIC, but can also be DECEITFUL and TACITURN, if you cross them. People tend to associate them with PAINT-STAINED OVERALLS and OLD AND RUSTY SEWING MACHINES.

tw: child neglect, arson. // @codstarters

hello fellow children, here’s g with yet another character for y’all: soft and nice edition. i am here to introduce you all to my pride and joy, adelaide:

H I S T O R Y

Adelaide Atkins Savoy is the daughter of Edward Atkins, an English salesman/conman and Ann Savoy, a French teacher that came from a (somewhat) noble family.

The Atkins family moved to Peachtree, Georgia from England when Addie was five years old after a business initiated by Edward, her father, went awry with the Savoys. Addie’s grandpa, who probably lost the most out of the business con but loved Addie to no end and wanted her grandkid to have a decent life, decided to fly the Atkin-Savoy family and bought them a wonderful, luxurious home on Addie’s name.

Her childhood was… an odd one, to say the least. Her parents still acted like they were part of the Savoy family while in Georgia (and with the housing/jobs Addie’s grandpa got them, there was no reason to doubt them) so they fit perfectly with Georgia’s finest, they were living a double life of sorts, socialités in debt who schemed their wealthiest friends without them knowing. Her parents promptly got Addie to work alongside them, either as a distraction or as an active asset in their plans and she couldn’t quite deny her skills to them alas, Addie did stuff she wasn’t proud of, illegal stuff she could get away with because no one suspected the little girl with the ponytails.

Edward Michael Atkins Savoy, Addie’s younger brother was born when Adelaide was around eleven. Ann lost interest on Eddie pretty quickly so Addie pretty much raised the kid as well as she could after she turned thirteen. The two formed an unbreakable bond very quickly.

She learned many skills during her time with her parents: pick locking, html, pickpocketing, boxing, sewing (which served the young woman well when her parents decided to stop buying their kids clothes and she started making them for the two of them instead), whatever her parents required of her and whatever she could learn to make sure her brother was well taken care of, she’d learn.

CHILD NEGLECT TW The worst instance of their parents neglecting both Addie and Eddie happened right after Eddie turned five. Their friends found out about how the couple had played them and the Atkins family lost all respect within the community, so they quickly started to go in debt with banks and strangers to try to live the life Ann and Edward were so used to. By this time, the matrimony had mostly forgotten their kids to the point where they stopped providing for them unless they needed Adelaide for some job, so it was all Addie’s responsibility to not only care for her brother but her parents somehow. She started working (an honest job) when she was fourteen and never truly stopped.

ARSON TW when Addie was seventeen, one year from graduating high school Edward and Ann made a decision: they needed money to pay off credit debts and alas, they needed to burn down the house the Savoys had bought for the family because they needed the insurance money. Addie started to storage as many stuff as she could when she was informed of what was going to happen (was guilt-tripped into staying silent) and the night her parents actually burnt the house down, Addie grabbed Eddie, everything she had gathered, a car a friend had lend to her and flee Peachtree, the two siblings didn’t look back. Adelaide didn’t finish High School.

After the two siblings escaped Peachtree, they situated in New Orleans for about a year, where Addie worked around two, three jobs in order to take care of herself and Eddie. No longer after a friend encouraged her to give her testimony (and all the proof she had gathered that backed up the claim that the fire had been premeditated) and she put her parents in jail for arson and child neglect, gaining her brother’s full custody and whatever money was left from the insurance payment.

By Eddie’s request, the two siblings moved to California in 2011 where she met a young musician called Dillon Wolfe. The couple fell in love shortly after. Six years later, they were getting married, Eddie being the person walking Adelaide down the aisle.

The little Wolfe-Atkins family moved to New York in 2018.

After working as a waitress/bartender/cook/whatever she could get to make a living for her and Eddie throughout her life, Addie got a letter from the Savoy family one day with the news that her grandfather had died and had left behind a trust fund for her, enough money for the two siblings to live off comfortably for the rest of their lives. However, the oldest decided to only use enough to buy a nice house for the two of them and to open a modest, lovely b&b, their major source of income and save the rest as the family wasn’t in dire need for money anymore.

She and Eddy don’t really talk about their past a lot, unless any of the parts truly trust the person they tell their story to.

P E R S O N A L I T Y

Most days, Addie is one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet, the kind of girl who smiles at everyone she meets and greets strangers with a smile on the daily. She likes making people around her happy. She thrives when people around her shine.

However, she can be very closed off and go as far as to be very deceitful? I mean, she is sharp, even though people don’t think she is because they write her off as a “southern belle” type, but what most people don’t know is she can be cunning whenever she sets her mind on it, she learned from a very young age how to take advantage of everything she had to get what she had her mind settled on.

The one thing she cares the most about in the world is her brother, Eddie. The boy is pretty much her own and has been since the day he was born, she would stop at nothing to make sure he is fine and he is happy.

Her hobbies include painting and sculpting (which she makes some money off of), gardening (the Atkins sibling’s home is a glorified zen garden by now) and designing (she sometimes uses this skill to make clothes for selling to friends and acquaintances).

Loyal to no end, good god. It takes a lot for her to feel comfortable with someone to call them her friend but once she does, she is the most loyal friend. Also the mom friend, no matter how close you are. If it’s even a little bit chilly outside and she sees a stranger shivering she WILL give them her sweater, has medicine and candy on her at all times.

She can be quite impetuous and extremely curious to the verge of being noisy, but never in a malicious way, unless you mess with someone she cares about.

Whatever you throw her way, she’ll land on her feet.

P L O T S (*will be a wc on main)

Best friend*: Either the best friend who help the Atkins while the lived in Georgia (preferably) or a new friendship they’ve built in the years they’ve been in New york Addie would be nothing without this person. She trusts them more than her own shadow and would kill for them in a heartbeat.

Foreign cousins: Maybe someone seeking vengeance because of what Addie’s father did to the family? Maybe they don’t even know they are related, everyone loves having someone you can tell “well, now i know where the craziness comes from”.

Muse: Whenever she’s stressed or just… inspiration strikes, Addie calls this person to either use them as a model or a canvass. She has every line of their body engraved on her memory and she still finds them fascinating and could spend hours painting them. We can discuss what shape this plot could potentially take.

People she works for: Either her art or the clothes she makes, I’d love to write about any of those.

Friends, enemies, neighbours… just love my baby, she and Eddie will love you back!

Okay, wow, if you made it through… honestly bless you and you deserve a freaking award. if you read this mess and you still wanna plot, hmu or like this post and i’ll come to you!

#codintro #child abuse tw #arson tw #like for plots???

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tvdiaries-imagines · 5 years

Text

Old Flame: Pt. 9

Warnings: Some cursing

Word Count: 3487

OLD FLAME MASTERLIST: CLICK HERE

Your eyes lift open. You’re unaware how long you have slept but seeing that the sun’s rays are still visible through the French doors, it’s still daylight. Last you remembered was making up with Klaus and falling asleep to his heavenly fingers brushing through your locks.

You threw the covers off and set your feet to the floor, finishing whatever blood is remaining in your glass before setting it back on the bedside table. Your bladder was full so you raced to the en suite bathroom to relieve it and wash your hands.

Walking out of the en suite, Klaus opens the door of the bedroom and seems relieved to see you. “Perfect timing, love. Now get proper because you’re going to run a little errand with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“To retrieve an item I need from Marcel.”

After driving quite a distance away from the compound, Klaus parks his SUV in front of a fairly large building surrounded by brick. “This is where he lives?” You asked, hopping out of the vehicle and shutting the door, following beside Nik to the entrance.

“Yes.” He replied.

Entering the eerily quiet and vacant looking building, you had to climb a great amount of stairs before you finally reached Marcel’s living quarters. It was not too shabby compared to the rest of the building. Who you’re assuming is Marcel, he is all alone here. He has nicely tanned skin and is made of muscle.

“Marcellus!” Klaus greeted with a grin.

“Well look what the cat dragged in.” Marcel’s eyes flickered at Klaus before setting on you. “And you must be Y/N. Heard a lot about you and your history with this guy.” Marcel gestured an arm at Klaus, who is gazing out the large window.

“Is that so?” You muttered, taking a seat on the couch.

“Word gets around fast in this city.” Marcel walked over to his makeshift bar, starting on pouring his glass with dark liquor. “So let me guess, Klaus. You need a favor.”

“A painless one. I promise.” Klaus turned to face Marcel. “There was a necklace I gave you a long time ago. It has a leather strap with a metal bird on the end.”

“Yeah, you gave it to me when I turned 11.” Marcel made his way to the nearest shelf and reached inside a box, pulling out the exact necklace that Klaus described.

“You remembered.” Klaus responded. Your heart warmed at the thought of Klaus once seeing Marcel as a son. Oh how times have changed.

“Mikael’s back, Elijah’s babbling on about family drama, and you’re here looking for antique jewelry.” Marcel made known, handing the ancient necklace to Klaus.

“It seems so, Marcellus.” Klaus said. You rose to your feet and walked towards the duo, brows furrowing in curiosity at the piece of jewelry.

“What is that necklace for, Nik?” You asked.

“Yeah, do I even wanna know why you’re asking for a necklace that your mother gave you?” Marcel added.

“Believe me, Marcel.” Klaus ignored your question, but you didn’t take it personally. “You want no part in the latest chapter of our sprawling family saga.” Marcel cast a glance at the necklace Klaus was holding up to his chest. “Thank you for holding onto this.” Klaus placed the necklace in his front pocket, grazing his palm on your lower back as a gesture to leave. “Let’s go, sweetheart.”

“Bye Marcel. It was nice meeting you.” You waved and smiled at Marcel as you followed Klaus’s lead to exit. Marcel nodded his head at you, the corner of his lip quirking up.

Once you were both in the car, you proceeded to ask Klaus again what he needed the necklace for. He answered willingly and explained that him, Elijah and Hayley need it for a spell.

When you returned to the compound, the sun was beginning to set and the French quarter was even busier with tourists. Inside the compound, Klaus met with Elijah and Hayley in regards to the necklace. He sent you to your room, informing you to dress formal for the reunion dinner later. You were slightly anxious to reunite with Esther again because the last memory you have of her is trying to kill your beloved.

After washing your face, you sifted through your luggage to look for the most formal thing you own and you had no luck. Plopping yourself on the foot of the bed, you pouted, nearly wanting to tell Klaus you won’t be joining. But instead, you had an idea and decided to call Rebekah even though it was a long shot.

After a few rings, she surprisingly answered. “So she answers.” You said matter of factly.

“Apologies, sister. I had my reasons. Now why are you calling. Has Nik drove you mad yet?”

“No but I need help.” You sighed. “I need a nice dress and I know we’re about the same size so-”

“Go to the basement and when you’re inside, open the first door to your left and you’ll find racks of dresses.”

“Great. Thank you so much, Rebekah.” You said as you headed towards the basement.

“Of course, Y/N. Take care of yourself.”

“You too.” The call ended.

(1 hour later…)

Wearing Rebekah’s stunning all black gown, it featured off the shoulder straps and a sweetheart bust. You also showed off a little leg with the high slit and you felt absolutely glamorous in this gown. Klaus told you to dress formal and you did exactly that. You also wanted to look good in front of the enemy.

As you were applying the last of your red lipstick, a gentle knock sounded on your door. “Come in!” You said.

“Are you ready, my love?” Klaus uttered from behind you.

You put the lid back on the lipstick and left it on the vanity, giving one last look in the mirror. “Now I am.” You stood, giving Klaus a well deserved elevator look. “Wow. This is the first time I’ve seen you in a suit in awhile. You look handsome.”

You implied. Klaus didn’t look too happy though.

“I look ridiculous.” You rolled your eyes playfully at his response. “You, however, look ravishing. Shall we?” He smirked, holding his arm folded out for you and you hooked onto it.

Klaus led you to the dining room. The last time you were here was when you gave Elijah a piece of your mind. Klaus stood, resting his forearms over the chair’s backrest at the head of the table. You took a seat next to him and Elijah came striding in with 3 wine glasses and a bell.

“Are these outfits really necessary?” Klaus asked his older brother, expression hardened.

“Sister, you look lovely tonight.” Elijah flashed you a soft smile, careless whether you’re still upset with him or not.

“Thanks.” You said flatly. You’re still a little upset with Elijah, but not enough for you to not be cordial with him.

“Appearance is a way of showing respect, Niklaus.” Elijah said to Klaus, setting the wine glasses to the appropriate spots. “Mother will be more likely to surrender her true intentions.”

“I doubt her guard will drop because I’m dressed like a bloody lawyer.” Klaus’s expression did not soften.

“Nik, stop.” You chuckled.

“We need every advantage we can get.” Elijah implied.

“You always did excel at diplomacy. Just know that if she tries anything, especially to Y/N, I’ll tear her new body to pieces.”

“I fucking dare her.” You spat.

A man with a slim face and chocolate skin wearing a black suit struts in, laughing sadistically. “You two haven’t changed a bit. Linens and silk can’t disguise your pathetic self loathing.” He glanced numerously at Klaus and Elijah before directing his entire focus onto Klaus. “And you...despite the arrogant facade and your love for this woman before me, you’re still the same paranoid little boy. Full of hate and fear.”

Your hands balled into fists and your jaw clenched at this man’s unnecessary remarks. Klaus began to notice, so he gently wrapped his fingers around your wrist in an effort to calm you.

Your eyes flickered from the stranger to Klaus. The original hybrid didn’t seem phased at all. Instead, he seems humored by it. Elijah glared at the stranger, appalled by his insults.

“Forgive me.” Elijah started, sauntering towards the annoying man. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”

“You mean, you don’t recognize me?”

“Who the hell are you?” You said aloud.

“So much for the unbreakable bonds of family, huh? Always and forever indeed.” The stranger stated, eyes widened.

“It’s been a long time…” Klaus dragged, Elijah snapped his neck to Klaus, as if trying to piece together Klaus’s response before he brought his focus back to the stranger. “...Finn.”

Your lips parted and chills ran down your spine. “It can’t be.” You whispered.

“Now that the introductions are out of the way, let’s eat.” Finn said.

While the room was filled with thick tension, Elijah began pouring yours and Klaus’s glasses before finishing off pouring his own and then Finn’s. You and Klaus clinked your glasses together before sipping, not bothering to include anyone else.

Finn inhaled just above the rim, savoring. “What an aromatic Bordeaux.”

“Well, it was a challenge to find a good pairing.” Klaus snickered. “What wine goes well with treachery?”

“Don’t pout brother. Tonight is meant to be a happy occasion.” Finn responded. He and Elijah took a seat. Like clockwork, the servant walked in and began setting the table.

“What exactly are we celebrating?” Elijah questioned, muddled.

“Why, my return, of course.” Finn exclaimed.

“Oh please.” You whispered in annoyance, rolling your eyes as you shake your head in disagreement. Klaus must have noticed because he flashed a grin at you and winked when you caught his eye.

You excuse yourself from the table and ventured off to the grand kitchen to fetch yourself a decanter of blood from the counter, filling a brand new glass cup a quarter of the way.

After doing so, you welcomed yourself back to the most disturbing dining experience. The table was already served with food and out of the blue, Klaus throws a butter knife at Finn’s direction, aiming for his hand that’s in the air, but he misses and it sticks to the other chair at the head of the table.

“Jesus, Nik.” You exclaimed.

Finn pulls the knife free. “I suppose the honor of carving should go to the oldest. We have much to discuss. Let’s start with you, dear Y/N.” He waves the knife in the air.

“What about me, Finn.” You glared, arms folded over your chest as you leaned back in your chair.

“I see you are still blind as ever.” He raised a brow. “Still acquainting yourself with my siblings.”

“Yes. And?” You remarked exasperatedly.

“Your dear friend, Malachai doesn’t seem too pleased. So much that he has joined forces with mother.”

“Okay, what is your point here because when I hear words come out of your mouth, all I want to do is rip out your vocal chords.” You unfolded your arms and leaned forward, eyes firing into Finn. Finn has always been your least favorite sibling of the Mikaelson’s and you weren’t afraid to voice it. Elijah’s a walk in the park compared to him and your anger towards Elijah started to deplete thanks to Finn.

“Easy, love.” Klaus put his arm out towards you as a barricade and you leaned back in your chair again. “I have other ideas to torture my brother.”

“Well he started it.”

Finn snickered, pleased that he got under your skin. “I’m rather enjoying my evening.”

“And I’d enjoy you getting to the point instead of bothering Y/N with your incessant chatter.” Klaus mentioned.

“I had 900 years to learn to be patient. Although, I am curious why you kept me daggered in a box for so long.” Finn focused on Klaus.

“You were daggered for being an ever simpering sycophant. Did you mother bring you back from the dead so you could wash her knickers?” Klaus said snidely. Elijah glanced at you when you nearly choked on your wine.

The next few excruciating minutes resulted in Finn ranting about being abandoned in a coffin for 900 years. All of which started to make you feel like you didn’t belong at this dinner table anymore since you are completely irrelevant about this topic. But the food smelled utterly delicious that you wanted to stay for it. So, where the hell is Esther?

“Like father, you’ve always despised our supernatural existence.” Elijah exclaimed. “Father, of course, slaughtered and consumed his own. Whereas you became pretentious and dull, much like this meal. I will not ask again. Where is mother?”

“Oh my darling son.” Esther AKA Cassie strolled in with swagger. “I’ve missed you too.”

“Why don’t you say what you came here to say so this wretched night can end.” Klaus chimed in, evidently vexed from her presence.

“It pains me that you and Elijah—and also you, Y/N—look at me with such disdain.” Esther made known. Your body stiffened hearing your name from her mouth. “I wish you could see that my every action has been to protect my darling sons.”

“You actually believe that, don’t you? I knew you were a liar, but now I see you’re utterly delusional.” The hybrid spat.

“If you can, forget the hatred that you cling to and remember all the times I’ve mended and healed you.” Klaus chuckled at his mother’s poor excuse for her actions.

Esther began bringing up the time that Klaus challenged his father to a duel and he failed because he was weak. The reason Klaus was weak was because she spelled the necklace to weaken him so that he wouldn’t trigger his curse by killing any man who challenged him.

You flinched and nearly gasped when Klaus hit the table, quivering with anger. “You ruined me. You left me to suffer at the hands of a father who valued only strength.”

“I kept you from becoming a beast for as long as I possibly could.” Esther pleaded.

“Oh, you lied to me to hide your own transgressions because of your own fear!” Klaus roared, quickly jumping to his feet, not caring what falls off the table. “My whole life, I sought the approval I was denied by the man who I thought was my father!”

“Oh Nik.” You muttered, frowning as you stood, trying to take his hand but he was too caught up in his hatred for his mother that he shook your hand away. Elijah also couldn’t take it anymore that he slowly paced, wishing that his mother didn’t bring this side out of Klaus.

“You turned me into the weakling he hated!” Klaus shouted, Esther’s eyes fell. “Look at me! You rant and you rage about the monster I’ve become. But you, mother, you are the author of everything I am.”

Instead of responding, Esther began to look pale and her face contorts as if she was going to be sick. But instead, she passes out and Elijah is quick to grab her before she falls to the ground.

“What the hell just happened?” Was all you could muster. Both Klaus and Elijah were just as puzzled as you are.

“She’s gone.” Elijah replied, dumbstruck.

In a split second, Elijah vamp speeds to attack Finn, but Finn’s reflexes are too quick that he knocks Elijah to the ground with a flick of the wrist. Klaus also vamp speeds towards his eldest brother and you followed suit, but before you knew it, all you saw was black and you fell to the ground.

(Later…)

“Wake up, my love.” You heard whispers of those four words from far away, yet you couldn’t reach the source. “Wake up.” After fighting and fighting, your eyes finally freed open. The first thing you see is Klaus dressed in his casual wear, sitting beside you at the edge of the bed, legs hanging.

“Nik, what happened? What happened to Esther?” Your voice croaked, leisurely blinking your eyelids.

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Yes. Yeah I’m fine but I’m going to kick Finn’s ass.” You sat up, pupils flared and feeling completely awake and well.

Klaus let out a faint chuckle. “I don’t doubt it, love.”

“So what happened with Esther? The last thing I remember is you yelling at the top of your lungs and then she passed out.”

As much as you wanted to ask Klaus how he was feeling after the outburst he had in regards to Mikael, you knew you shouldn’t. There’s no need for you to reopen that wound and you know that talking about it is the last thing Klaus wants to do.

He sighed heavily. “It seems she’s left Cassie’s body and Elijah’s informed me that she’s taken on another one.”

“Well that’s great.” You blurted with sarcasm. “And Finn?”

“He’s run off like a coward, of course.”

Your brows snapped together, realization hitting you. “Wait, how is it that you woke before me and even had the time to change your clothes and also bring me up here?”

“Did you forget, I have a thousand years on you.” The blonde made known, smirking.

“Right right. So don’t we need to go after Esther and Finn? I feel perfectly fine.”

“Elijah has it handled. But for the moment, let’s focus on you and I.” Klaus gently placed a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Okay sure. So what about us?” Your eyes unsystematically glimpsed at his soft lips. His touch seems to have an affect on you.

“I have been meaning to ask you something.” He uttered, anxious.

“Sure. Ask away, Nik.” You responded lightly as you shifted to sit up even straighter, ready and willing to hear the original’s question.

“When do you plan to return to Mystic Falls?” He asked carefully, awaiting your reply. Your lips parted, blinking.

“Um. I honestly don’t know. I actually haven’t had the chance to think about it. Why?”

“Let’s just say, I am in no rush for you to leave my city just yet.” Klaus admitted. His face lights up, as if relieved that you didn’t say soon. But it’s true, you didn’t give yourself any time to plan your leave. All you know is that you don’t want to leave tomorrow or the next day.

“Is that right?” You fluttered your lashes and your bottom lip finds its place in between your teeth. Those exact words are what you needed to hear from him.

“I admit, your company is quite the enjoyment.” Klaus placed a hand over your thigh closest to your knee in reassurance.

“Enjoyment? That’s all I am to you, huh? So calling me ‘my love’ and ‘sweetheart’ is just for kicks and giggles?” You replied lightheartedly and he caught on. “And Finn calling me ‘the woman you love’ was just a lie. Hmm?”

“Oh don’t act mindless with me, my love. You know how important you are to me.”

“Mmm hmm. Sure Nik.” You said in a playful tone.

Klaus surprised you when he suddenly rubbed his thumb across your thigh. “I swear that I mean it with every bone in my body.” He muttered, your heart skipped a beat.

“I believe you.” You responded in a low tone.

He rubbed your thigh again and just like magic, a familiar feeling tingles in between your legs and you couldn’t help but slightly squirm from the feeling, battling to push it aside while Klaus searched your face.

You gingerly removed Klaus’s hand from your thigh and he frowned. But Instead of bolting out of the room, you hopped off of the bed and shut the door before whooshing yourself across Klaus’s lap with a smirk, tangling your arms around his neck. The sudden change of motion caught him by surprise and he abruptly lit up. You looked him dead in the eye and he didn’t say a word while his hands captured your small waist underneath your blouse.

Without thinking it through, you leaned down and crashed your lips onto his. The feeling was electrifying and his plump lips tasted like delicious nostalgia. The way his lips melted perfectly together with yours made it blatantly clear that he’s been dying to relish in your sweet lips again.

As you lose yourself in this gratifying escape, flashbacks of love making in Klaus’s old mansion flooded your memories. It caused you to deepen the kiss with a tongue war and you lowered Klaus onto the mattress so that you were hovering over him.

You leaned back for air and Klaus flashed his signature smirk before rapidly hovering over you in the blink of an eye.

“Allow me to makeup for lost time.” Klaus murmured seductively.

Neither of you planned for this night filled with ecstasy.

A/N: Part 9 finally arrived! So sorry for the really long wait. I ended up rewriting it because I wasn’t happy with it, but I’m extremely happy with the rewritten one. Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter :) your sweet comments are very appreciated! Love you all!

TAGS: @ynm1505 @ravenmoore14@xdontxcare @seasiren96@anyasthoughts @woodworthti666 @agentmarvel13@miss-lumiere@elizabeth-ann1090 @physically-a-cheesecake@azhar1422 @morsmornte @retrocontessa @kollover24 @thewolf-and-thesheep @xoxoaudreymarie @dezzym17@siphonersalvatore @yolobloggers @akshi8278 @simonsaysyasss @eggingamazinglove @brooklymw

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mitsuya-takashi · 5 years

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“Special Place”-Taekook

This is the second one shot I’ve written, no judgment, please! This is basically a little “how they got together” story for Taekook, so it’ll be a bit shorter than the Yoonmin one I posted.

Also, shoutout to @handcuffsandneuroscience for reading this over for me and helping me improve it!

TAEHYUNG He didn’t mean to forget his umbrella. But he was already running late, and he had left it buried deep in a bin that he didn’t have time to sort through this morning. Taehyung thought he was in the clear when he left class, but as he was halfway to the studio to practice with Jimin, the rain came down hard. It was sudden, the pale gray day becoming dark and chaotic, exactly the weather Taehyung was not prepared for. At all.

He looked around frantically to find a place to go for refuge and noticed a small business nearby, the lettering on the front reading “Special Place”. He ran inside, shuddering from the chill that bit through his drenched clothing. As he raised his ducked head, the first thing he saw was a display of cupcakes, fluffy and round. Ah, so this is a bakery. He thought. I guess I’ll buy something then. Taehyung turned to the counter to order but stopped when he saw the worker on duty.

The man was currently helping someone, an adorable bunny-like smile on his face as he handed the customer their pastry. He had dark, fluffy hair that Taehyung for some reason really wanted to run his fingers through, and his nose was something that could only be described as “really cute” as it scrunched with his smile. The beauty of this stranger distracted Taehyung for a moment, but he was able to get over himself and walk up to the counter.

“Hello! Welcome to Special Place Bakery! What can I get for you today?” Taehyung was immediately mesmerized by his voice, having to pause for a second before he answered.

“Uhm...yeah. I’d like one of those, please?” He said, pointing to the display he saw earlier.

“Alright, that’ll be $2.00.” Taehyung shifted to grab his wallet and gave the worker his money, noticing that his name tag read “Jeongguk”. Jeongguk handed him the cupcake with a smile, saying “Here you go! Come back here any time!”

Taehyung simply nodded and turned away, sitting down at one of the tables scattered throughout the area. He pulled out his phone, texting Jimin to tell him why he’ll be late (again).

Tae: i’ll be a bit late to practice today :(

Chim: Taeee! Why this time?

Tae: it’s raining rlly rlly hard and I don’t have my umbrella so i'm waiting in a bakery

Tae: buuuut anyways there’s a guy working here and he’s,,,rlly hot

Tae: like,,,,rlly

Chim: W o w

Chim: Yoongi’s the only one who really cares for me :(

Tae: he’s ur bf, he has to

Chim: Woowww I’m hurt

Tae: i’ll leave when the rain stops

Chim: OK, see you when you get here <3

Tae: yup <3

He set his phone down to eat his untouched cupcake, every so often sneaking glances at Jeongguk. After he finished, he made sure that the rain had stopped and left, remembering to visit the cute bakery (and the even cuter worker) again sometime soon.

JEONGGUK Jeongguk was officially intrigued. The first time the mystery man came in the bakery, he was completely drenched from the rain outside. His dark locks stuck to his forehead in a way that should be illegal. His clothes were soaked, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. Even then, Jeongguk took a mild interest in him. It isn’t often they get a new customer, being a small business and all, but one who’s that good looking? That was almost unheard of in the tiny bakery. So when the man kept coming back, Jeongguk got more and more interested.

He started coming in at kind of regular intervals, most times alone, sometimes with a shorter boy with bubblegum pink hair. When Jeongguk’s best friend and coworker, Hoseok, told the managers of Special Place, Seokjin and Namjoon, about the other boy’s infatuation, the three of them made it a point to keep Jeongguk on duty whenever the mystery man came by, thoroughly enjoying meddling in his love life. Today was the second time that week he stopped in, three weeks after he first discovered it.

As Jeongguk heard the telltale bell ring, he looked up to see the cheerful face, calling a ”Hello again!” to the man he had become oh so accustomed to seeing. He smiled and walked over to the counter, winking as he made eye contact with Jeongguk.

“I’ll have the usual.” Came the man’s deep voice. It always melted him; the mysterious male had a voice that Jeongguk had only been hearing for a few weeks now but one he doubted he could live without.

“Coming right up!” came Jeongguk’s usual reply. Jeongguk handed the man his cupcake as he paid but gently grabbed his arm before he could make his way to the seats. “Wait!” Jeongguk said. The man looked at him curiously.

“Yeah? What is it?” That voice again, damn. Get it together, Jeongguk. You still don’t even know him.

“I wanted to ask your name? You’ve been coming here pretty often, but I still don’t know it, and I feel bad calling you ‘Sir.’” The man looked surprised at this as if he didn’t realize he never told the man what to call him.

“My name is Taehyung.” Beautiful face, beautiful name, Jeongguk thought.

“Well hi, Taehyung-ssi. My name is Jeongguk.”

“I already knew your name,” Taehyung laughed. “It’s on your name tag.”

“Oh, oops,” Jeongguk responded, red in the face. “Well, anyway, it’s nice to formally meet you.” He said, sticking out his hand. Taehyung smiled and took it in his own, shaking it firmly. Jeongguk couldn’t help but notice how their hands fit together nicely, wondering what actually holding his hand would be like. He quickly shook that thought off, though, and let go of Taehyung. The man’s face morphed into a slightly conflicted look as if he was debating something with himself.

“Since we, you know, know each other now, would you be willing to give me your number?” Taehyung said suddenly.

“Yeah, sure. What for?” Jeongguk said while getting out his phone, flustered at the unexpected question.

Taehyung looked hesitant. “Oh, uh...I just... maybe wanted to be friends?” Jeongguk was surprised. He was acquainted with most of the customers, but they never became “official friends”. He beamed at the idea and exchanged phones with Taehyung, typing in his number before handing it back to him.

“So...friends?” Jeongguk asked shyly, still smiling.

“Yeah. Friends.”

TAEHYUNG Ever since they had exchanged numbers, Taehyung and Jeongguk were texting every day. They had grown inevitably closer, their bond developing more and more as the weeks went by. Originally, it was just making small talk and getting to know one another with little things like 20 Questions and Never Have I Ever. Now, however, their conversations have evolved, and so have Taehyung’s feelings. Two months of non-stop contact, staying up talking until 3 AM, and visits to the bakery every Tuesday and Friday have created a special connection between the two, one that Taehyung didn’t have with anyone else (Well, there was his platonic soulmate, Jimin, but that was different).

Needless to say, Taehyung enjoyed every moment with Jeongguk and wanted to take it a step farther. He made a plan to ask out the other during his next trip to the bakery. He was unsure how the younger would react but unwilling to back down until he got an answer.

~~~

That Tuesday, Taehyung walked up to the counter of the conveniently empty store, fidgeting nervously.

“Hyung!” Jeongguk beamed at him. “How was your cupcake?” Taehyung smiled fondly at the younger, admiring his energy.

“It was amazing, Gguk, as they always are.”

“Great! So, was there anything specific you wanted to talk about?”

This is it. Taehyung thought. This, right now. I’m gonna ask him out. I’m gonna do it. I am going t-

“Hyung?” Jeongguk unknowingly interrupted the other’s train of thought with one word, one word that snapped Taehyung back to reality.

“Oh, yeah.” said a startled Taehyung. “I was actually wondering if...you’d wanna go out with me sometime?” he finished, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he asked.

“Oh. Oh.” Jeongguk said, caught off guard.

Taehyung became more uncertain, not wanting to make Jeongguk uncomfortable. “It’s fine if you don’t want to. It doesn’t have to be a date, we can just grab some food sometime this weekend?”

Jeongguk shook his head. “No...I think it would be better as a date. If that’s ok with you, of course?”

Taehyung laughed, gaining his confidence back. “A date then. Does this Saturday work for you?”

Jeongguk looked elated at the idea, nodding quickly. “Yeah. Yup. Saturday definitely works.”

“Great. I’ll text you the time and place later on.” said Taehyung.

Jeongguk smiled that adorable smile that Taehyung found so fascinating even on the first day they met. “Perfect.”

Taehyung walked over to the door smiling but turned around before leaving and winked at Jeongguk.

“I guess this really is a Special Place. Maybe, from now on, it can be our Special Place.”

Taehyung didn’t know it yet, but that simple phrase would be the catalyst for a new relationship that would eventually turn into something beautifully unbreakable, admired especially by those who got to see them grow old together.

END.

#taekook #vkook #taehyung #jeongguk #long post #jungkook #v #tae #bts #gay #cute #fluff #taekook fluff #vkook fluff

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kiruuuuu · 5 years

Text

Smoke/Lesion oneshot in which Lesion meets someone important during his first mission and then realises he was horribly wrong over the course of a few years. (Rating T, culture clash + hurt/comfort, ~9k words) - written for @yovelie! I can’t thank you enough for this commission and all your encouragement 💞💞 You continue to be a delight! Find my commission info here!

This fic has been posted to AO3 as well!! Read it here :)

His presence alone demands respect: he has the aura of someone who turns heads unconsciously, who parts a crowd with no effort and without realising, of a man used to making himself heard. Tze Long inadvertently holds his breath as the broad-shouldered, imposing European paces the room, studying the papers handed to him upon entry and not yet having directed a single word at anyone. He oozes confidence and competence, a good mixture as far as Tze Long is concerned, and despite the circumstances, he’s calmed down considerably. With this fortress of a man on their side, he has nothing to fear.

The man’s companion is less impressive, reminds Tze Long more of an aged schoolkid, sitting the wrong way around on a chair and resting his chin on his arms, eyes lazily trailing after his superior. If anything, he’s an apprentice, for some reason deemed worthy enough to follow this legend around despite proving himself lacking in several aspects – physical appearance is just one of them. He merely scanned the report Tze Long neatly put together before switching to playing with a lighter instead, face bored and impassive.

Indonesian weather doesn’t agree with either of them and yet Tze Long can’t pretend he minds, not when it forces the two to expose their toned arms and causes sweat to bead up on their foreheads enticingly. This is a moment in which he stops wondering why he’s got it so bad for Westerners.

Paper rustles and restless footfalls stop. The tall man fixes Tze Long with a level gaze which shouldn’t cause his heart to skip a beat like this. “Your name is…?”

“Liu Tze Long, sir.”

Two pairs of eyes drill into him yet he returns the stare without blinking. “You know who I am?”

He nods. “I do, sir.” How could he not? Operation Nimrod gained international fame and besides, all special forces have their own celebrities, pass on gossip just as swiftly as the Hollywood scene. Vineyards work fast, especially concerning the British SAS, most acclaimed organisation worldwide. Tze Long has been following this man’s career for about a decade now, hungrily devouring every tasty piece of information he could find. This is his idol before him, in the flesh, and he still has trouble believing it.

“Good. This is James Porter.” The sidekick gives a half-hearted wave and a half-hearted smile. “You’re the one who interpreted the files on the laptop found in Macau?”

“That is correct, sir.”

“Fucking bubonic plague”, Mike Baker mutters with a shake of his head, pushing back his sweat-soaked hair. “What do you reckon, Jamie?”

“Complete neutralisation asap”, comes the reply without hesitation, yet delivered like a disagreeable school report, “the files didn’t indicate the existence of more than one lab, so only one infiltration necessary. We’ll have the SDU assist us in gathering intel and coordinating the whole thing, go in, destroy the prototypes and samples as well as all data and leave.”

Tze Long nods mutely. They’ve identified the location of the extremist’s laboratory already which is why his superiors deemed it necessary to ask the Brits for help – their expertise in storming a building riddled with mercenaries and equipped with a worryingly potent biological weapon is limited. He doesn’t let his surprise over James’ astute observations show. He should’ve figured every member of the SAS has been recruited for a reason.

“Almost.” Mike leans against a table and Tze Long’s eyes drop lower all by themselves. “There’s no need to ask more people for help. We three are more than capable of taking down this megalomaniac – the fewer people can alert these terrorists to our plan of attack, the better. We don’t need the SDU’s fancy gadgets if we can help it. Right?”

The last word is directed at Tze Long who nods automatically. He indubitably knows best, seeing as how he’s not only still alive but also in active duty after all this time. “Yes, sir. Of course.”

“See? Even he agrees with me.” James simply rolls his eyes, visibly exasperated, but doesn’t dare object. If he had, Tze Long would’ve been appalled with the blasphemy. “You’re both knowledgeable in toxicology, so you better figure out how to get rid of this nonsense while I do observation and planning. Also, if you call me ‘sir’ one more time, I’m gonna personally feed you my badge.”

Tze Long opens his mouth, throws a glance at an extremely amused-looking Porter and decides against speaking up.

“Alright, let’s brainstorm on how to neutralise this plague without causing a medium-sized epidemic”, Porter turns to him with a cheerful grin. “Or, as I’d like to call it: the fun part.”

~*~

Macau has never held any fascination for Tze Long for as long as he could think – the old Portuguese buildings, yes, but once he’d seen them, there was only glamour and glitz to discover, new ways of relieving encumbered tourists of their money and the vice-like grip of the Chinese government tightening on a city doomed to be a one-trick pony forever. He never bought into the explosive potential of the casinos, prioritised work over luck and ended up in a respectable place as a result. Things work out eventually, but always through hard work and not unnecessary risk-taking. He prefers necessary risk-taking.

This day, however, he’s come to experience it through someone else’s eyes and allowed the city to dazzle him as if he was a toddler experiencing the Lunar New Year fireworks consciously for the very first time. Everything is bright, loud, inviting and affordable, even for his wallet, and he takes great pride in explaining all the local delicacies, the colonial history and differences between Macau and Hong Kong, as well as Asian customs in general. Most Europeans he meets either already know their fair share about the region or are much more interested in an entirely different thing, so it’s with childlike wonder that he accompanies Mike and James traipsing through Asia’s Las Vegas.

They’ve washed up in a Din Tai Fung purely because Mike knows the restaurant chain and was thirsting for a little bit of familiarity after an entire day of concentrated culture shock – but not familiar enough to allow them to forget they’re in another continent, like one of the many American fast food chains might’ve done, even given their differing menu.

“I never would’ve pegged you for a gambler”, Tze Long chuckles in between dumplings and marvels not for the first time at the fact that conversing with one of the most renowned blades has become this easy over the course of a singular mission.

“Me neither, but results don’t lie.” Mike frowns at the cup of green tea before downing it in one go. He doesn’t look like a fan. “If you hadn’t dragged me off, I might be a few thousand quid richer.”

“If we hadn’t dragged you off you’d be on your fifth Singapore sling and probably hitting on a coat rack”, James states drily.

“A miracle – the man who bets on everything shies away from roulette.”

“Not everyone has your kind of pocket change. And besides, I only bet on meaningful things. Like the fact that I’m gonna eat more than either of you of these – what are they called again?”

“Xiao long bao.” Tze Long pokes at one of the steamed dumplings filled with pork and hot soup. “And don’t bother betting anything, my stomach becomes bottomless when it comes to them.”

“You look like you don’t have them very often, in that case”, Mike interjects with a grin and definitely did not expect Tze Long to mirror his expression and retort: “You look like you have them a little too often.” He’s come to learn that friendly banter is not only viewed favourably but also generally expected, and not for the first time he’s grateful for his extended interest in expats.

Once James is done laughing (which takes a while and is made worse by Mike’s glare), he suggests: “These things are bloody delicious, so I’m definitely not gonna lose. Let’s bet on a dessert.”

Tze Long agrees, and their banter continues. An outsider might not identify them as extremely recent acquaintances, not with how easily Tze Long laughs, not with how naturally James elbows him in the side, not with how nonchalantly Mike overlooks their antics. But near death experiences have a way of forming unbreakable bonds, invisible strings tying near strangers together and inspiring them to treat each other almost like family: an involuntary gathering of people who share a fundamental trust. It’s easier to ignore shortcomings or differing opinions when they’ve had each other’s blood on their hands, and never before has Tze Long felt this connection as strongly as with these two Englishmen. They will stay in contact after this, that much is obvious, and maybe he’s made friends for life.

Maybe he’s made more.

Mike was the first one to ask him for his number, and if he noticed Tze Long’s fingers shaking, he didn’t comment on it.

As expected, both of them end up too full to even think about trying the molten chocolate-filled dumplings nor the matcha cake, so they agree on a draw after probably having miscounted anyway. Tze Long shows his gratitude for Mike’s winnings paying for their meal by gifting him a charm for his phone, one that’s not too tacky and meant to bring good fortune, and because he doesn’t want James to be empty-handed, he buys one for him too. They walk off the food coma by one of the beaches; it’s cooled down a little over the course of the evening and so neither of them takes their shirt off. Shame.

They linger outside of the hotel.

“You’re going back to Hong Kong tonight?”, Mike inquires, stretching in the humid night air and displaying his long limbs like an unconcerned predator knowing it’s at the top of the food chain.

“Yes. I sleep better at home and the ferries go regularly even at this hour. It’s a shame about your flight, I would’ve liked to show you my home.”

“And I’d like to show you ours”, James replies, sounding surprisingly genuine. Usually, half of what he utters is sarcasm and the other half jokes – if he hadn’t displayed professionalism and competence during their mission on top of that, Tze Long might’ve refused to work with him outright. “If you’re ever in Europe, call.”

“And if you’re ever in Asia again, let me know.” He fidgets. His throat is swollen with all the half-sentences threatening to burst out, all the confessions he’s suppressing… but there’s a foreign body in the way and he’s not willing to lay himself bare before these attentive eyes which have been following his every move for days now. He’s long understood that laziness and disinterest are a cover to hide a sharp sense of observation as well as a keen mind. James prefers being underestimated. Mike, on the other hand, is as authentic as it gets – he never holds back, sees bluntness as a virtue and wastes no time in hiding. Enviable. Tze Long wishes he could do the same.

“I forgot to buy smokes, be right back”, James announces into the short silence and disappears as if he’d read Tze Long’s mind. The opportunity is perfect, made even better when Mike addresses him directly.

“I’m serious, it was a pleasure working with you.” His chest swells at the genuine compliment. “Even if you’re as suicidal as Jamie. You’ll get far. Do you have a lot of experience under your belt already?”

He omitted this fact as to not spark any doubts, but now he might as well admit it. “Actually, this was my first mission.”

Mike’s brows lift, just like the corners of his mouth. “And you waited this long to tell us? You son of a bitch, I don’t believe it. I have even less doubt about your future now. I hope to see you again soon.” He holds out his hand and Tze Long takes it, feels a warm palm against his own, a strong grip, melts under approving eyes. “You did well. I mean it. Take care of yourself, will you?”

Please, he thinks but doesn’t even dare finish the thought let alone allow his tongue to betray him, dumbly repeats the word in his head over and over like a mantra, like a spell he’s trying to weave. Please. Please. “Yes. You too. Have a safe flight.” And with those words, Mike Baker seemingly vanishes from his life. Silhouette starkly visible against the bright light of the hotel lobby, the embodiment of everything Tze Long wants and wants to be, he leaves, in his wake the hot night air clogging lungs and airways and hearts.

When Tze Long turns, James is silently offering him a lit cigarette. They share it without a word, just like Tze Long often enforced an awkward quiet between them through non-committal replies or flat out ignoring quips despite their wittiness. Looking back, he feels bad about it.

“Wanna join me upstairs?”, the Brit asks as he extinguishes the mutual vice and leads the way when Tze Long nods. Mind and expression carefully blank, they ride the elevator up and enter the luxurious room after James has unlocked it. It’s about the same size as Tze Long’s apartment in Hong Kong. “Shower? Your preference.”

He shakes his head and watches the other man approach him, closes his eyes only a second after their lips touch.

It’s always so obvious, with Europeans. They make no move to hide their interest or curiosity, seem to have no off switch whereas Tze Long has stumbled over vague acquaintances, locals whom he’d never have suspected in the past. James telegraphed clearly until he knew he was understood, and then continued unintentionally.

He’s a good kisser, at least. Considerate, adaptive, even playful – he manages to coax a few smiles out of Tze Long as they just stand there and kiss, despite him feeling like the entire last week didn’t even matter. He wouldn’t have felt like this even if they’d failed. But James is more and more successful in taking his mind off it, and for that he’s grateful. He does have a nice build, favouring the torso over legs but Tze Long doesn’t mind, not when he can run his hands over hard muscles and feel them dance below his fingertips.

They crawl onto the bed, James shirtless and unreasonably attractive-looking, dark mane fanning out on his pillow and ribs expanding prettily with every deep inhale over Tze Long toying with his tongue. He’s hard, both of them are, and it’s no surprise that the first piece of clothing James tries to undo are Tze Long’s trousers.

“I top”, he whispers against a swollen mouth and slides lower to capture an erect nipple with his lips.

James picks up on his phrasing. “Exclusively?” He doesn’t sound like he minds and lets out a beautiful little moan.

“Exclusively Westerners.” Tze Long doesn’t mention he rarely sleeps with locals as it is – many of them are a mirror to his own insecurities and remind him of the endless questions about his marital status. He’s met wonderful local men, yes, one wonderful woman too, an outlier who sadly didn’t stay by his side or else she could’ve made most of his life a lot easier, but when it comes down to it, he prefers the natural demeanour, the surprise over him having to hide, the cheerful forgetfulness concerning their cultural differences. It’s easier to not be reminded than to overcome.

“Had enough of white guy machos who come to the ‘land of the bottoms’ expecting everyone to fall at their feet?” He’s amused yet not mocking.

“Not far off”, Tze Long admits with a smile and leans up for another kiss which is eagerly accepted. He’s starting to get the impression James would be content with nothing but snogging the entire night and the thought makes him uncomfortable.

“It’s not a race thing”, James mutters, hands gently stroking over Tze Long’s body, “I just like pretty people.”

And I like people who take what I’m willing to give without much fuss, Tze Long thinks and marvels over how the body below his comes alive at his every touch. He’s a magnet and James made of metal, has no choice but to strain towards him, intense gaze fixed on his face. Somehow, it hurts looking at him. “What else do you like?” Tze Long parts legs with a soft push to an inner thigh and settles between them.

“Anything. I’m not picky.” Coming from anyone else, he wouldn’t have believed it, but it rings true for James. “Live out your fantasies.” He smiles and means it, despite his next words. “I know I’m a substitute.”

Tze Long’s mouth goes dry. His cheeks burn, actually feel on fire. Restless digits roam over exposed skin but none of its warmth manages to penetrate his own. He feels cheapened, caught. He knows James noticed. He just thought he’d have the decency not to mention it.

He tries to save it with a kiss, but it’s sticky, sickly sweet like too much candy, the taste clinging to the roof of his mouth. Like Macau itself, a pretty façade and nothing more. James can tell he’s not feeling it anymore, he’s sure.

“You don’t have to”, James says, so full of understanding Tze Long’s stomach is in knots.

“I want to”, he lies. Kind eyes blink up at him. James really is handsome, at third glance. He imagines what it’s like to actually fuck him. He wonders what he’d feel like afterwards. The thought is sobering.

“How about we walk around the city some more instead? There were other places you mentioned we didn’t get to see. I’ll just skip sleeping.”

Tze Long doesn’t ask whether it’s really alright with James. He just nods and gets up.

~*~

Confrontation goes against his nature. He’s always cultivated a healthy mix of empathy and disillusionment with humanity as a whole, both to understand other people’s actions as well as not care too much – he’s self-sufficient, needs little to be content, is ambitious without being overzealous, and he believes that everyone eventually gets what they deserve. Picking fights, holding grudges, none of it appeals to him, instead seems clunky, awkward, unnecessary. He lives and lets live, expects others to show him similar courtesy but doesn’t cause a fuss when they don’t.

This, however, is different.

“I’ve been working on this for two months, as you’re well aware, and now you’re saying I won’t be permitted to bring this mission to its conclusion?” His tone is even but his fingers flex, betraying his anger, even resentment.

Mei Lin had to pull him aside so they don’t have this conversation in front of the rest of their team, for which he’s grateful, though he hopes it doesn’t appear as if he’s questioning her authority. She’s gotten enough shit as it is. “Yes”, she replies curtly. “This is non-negotiable. Leave.”

Tze Long catches his fury before it breaks out of him. He respects her like no other, and unlike his peers, doesn’t hold her to higher standards just because she’s a woman. She’s had to work twice as hard to receive half as many commendations. No, this isn’t about her. “You know my work is important to me”, he appeals to her sense of duty, but he’s got the impression he’s not talking to her in her function as his superior right now, despite all.

“This isn’t your call to make either way.” He believes it. If their roles were reversed, if he begged her to exclude him from the mission yet she deemed him irreplaceable, she wouldn’t allow it. “I will bear the consequences. I am aware of what I’m doing. And you need to go.”

He sincerely hopes she’s not committing career suicide, not after she’s fought her way into the SDU, clawed her way up with iron discipline and excellent results. She could have him officially rebuked for insubordination if he refused and stayed. So he doesn’t.

A few hours later, he feels his father’s pulse fade under his fingertips.

Tze Long feels like he’s underwater. Like he’s a singular grain of sand, mercilessly and relentlessly being tossed around by the tide, ground up against his brethren over and over again until they’ve all lost their edge, become smooth and round and compatible, until they make up a pretty picture as a whole, with their personal identities vanishing in favour of making up a greater good.

A metropolis like Hong Kong seems to have this effect on people – at least on most of the ones he’s met. They turn into exchangeable faces, rehashing the same conversations over and over, fulfilling their purpose and causing no ruckus. Oiling the machine. On bad days, this impression weighs him down amid the traffic noises, the daily rush to work and back, the desperate attempts to take the mind off everything. On good days, he manages to spot beauty wherever he goes, smiles and small gestures of kindness, the shocking diversity of the city representing unification and celebration of life in all forms. Hong Kong is colourful in more ways than one, if he dares to look.

Today is a bad day.

He’s frantically chewing on a toothpick while tonguing the sore spots in his mouth where he poked himself before. A friend suggested replacing cigarettes with something else to keep his mouth occupied and help suppress the addiction, and after dismissing chewing gum and carrots, he’s landed on this. So far, it does nothing to quell his anxiety.

When Mei Lin leaves the building, her expression is unreadable until she’s stopped right in front of him, blinking up into the painfully direct sunlight. They study each other, both looking for signs of weakness not to exploit but to encourage. Eventually, she nods. “We’re good”, she announces and both of them slump a little in relief.

What she really means to say is: I’m good. But Tze Long doesn’t correct her. “What did he say?”

“He was understandably upset I would force you off the mission after you’ve been the most involved op in the whole thing. He blamed me for being soft, for endangering the rest of the troop by replacing you. And he told me I shouldn’t have let you know about the call.”

Tze Long nods silently. It’s what he expected.

If she’d told him of the call afterwards, he wouldn’t have been there to witness his father’s last breath.

“But there was someone else there. SAS. Apparently a friend of yours.”

His stomach flips. Did he really come? He wouldn’t have thought – he messaged him that day, late at night, not expecting a reply as usual. Responses were scarce, have always been, so he figured he’d get a supportive text back in a week or two. Not this. His heartbeat quickens and he has to hold himself back to let Mei Lin finish instead of charging the building.

“He wanted to know what happened and then offered his own advice. I’ll spare you the details, they argued a bit, but he held the opinion that amid our discipline and rigorous training, we mustn’t forget we’re also human. Because this humanity is the entire reason we’re doing any of what we’re doing. And in his opinion, I acted according to this ideal and therefore shouldn’t be punished.”

“That does sound like something he’d say”, Tze Long agrees quietly.

Both of them turn to the busy street as if on signal, take a deep breath, compose themselves. He wants to embrace her, wonders whether she’ll take it the right way. Everything is impermanent, he recently received a sharp reminder of this, and his need to cherish everything he still has left throbs behind his temples. Instead, he settles for an earnest: “Thank you. I didn’t agree in the moment, but I do now. You made the correct call.”

“I know.” She fixes him with a gaze so full of sympathy that it paralyses him. “I’m sorry.”

He just nods again. Despite all, he wants to ask her about him, what he was like, whether she liked him, whether she understood who exactly he is. The realisation of how much he cares is frightening, even more so when he hears footsteps behind him, clearly approaching the two of them. He’ll never be ready to face him, never has been, and so he takes the plunge without hesitation and turns around, turns to -

“It’s just me”, James states almost apologetically the moment he must notice the disappointment in Tze Long’s expression.

Whatever it is, whether it’s the uncomfortable vacuum Tze Long has been carrying around with him for a few days already, hindering his ability to feel anything, whether it’s the relief of seeing a familiar, friendly face, whether it’s the fact that James just helped Mei Lin – it’s not nearly as big of a letdown as Tze Long would’ve expected. Yes, he’d hoped it’d be him. But after a second, he’s already come to terms with the fact that it isn’t, and if he’s completely honest, he doesn’t even mind that much. “Good to see you”, he says and means it.

James’ face lights up with a smile. “Good to be here.”

Their dynamic is different.

Tze Long fails to pinpoint why, whether it’s the long months – years, he realises – of constant communication, the fact that he’s not looking over James’ shoulder for most of the time, or the sad circumstances. He’s sociable enough, always enjoys making and keeping friends from all over the world which has come in handy not only at his job but also in his spare time, so he kept up the steady stream of messages between the younger Brit and himself. It wasn’t like they texted every day, yet he expected a message at least once a week and wasn’t ever disappointed. Usually, it was either a world event which occupied them, a remarkable injury on either side (like when Tze Long broke his toe by demonstrating his lack of skill on the tightrope, or when James dreamt bad, flailed around in his sleep and punched himself in the nuts), an entertaining story they came across or just a simple checking in. Casual, pleasant, inconsequential conversations.

Now that they’re face to face once more, James is much more tangible, with that singular dimple he actually pointed out at some point, the laid-back attitude which puts Tze Long at ease immediately, filled to the brim with terrible ideas and even worse jokes and never turning down a challenge. He’s a painting which has come alive, surprising in its actuality yet its core still intact. It’s not like meeting an entirely new person, more of… seeing a whole.

In the half-day they have available, Tze Long shows him Hong Kong. The flight leaves late at night and James bemoans the fact that he’s got trouble sleeping on planes as it is, so the jetlag will kill him, and Tze Long doesn’t ask whether he was in the area anyway, doesn’t ask when he arrived in the first place, why exactly he came.

He suggests Din Tai Fung once more but James shakes his head, inquires about other local specialties and trails after him until they reach the night market on Temple Street which isn’t as crowded as usual seeing as it’s only afternoon. Like in Macau, Tze Long revels in his position as tourist guide and points out miscellaneous facts, tells a few anecdotes and buys a chocolate-flavoured egg waffle as well as milk tea so James can munch and sip on something while marvelling at the colourful trinkets and embroidered clothes offered en masse. In order to get him to try as many stalls as possible, they share portions of dim sum, grilled squid and braised meat, and it delights him to see that James is willing to try basically everything – except for stinky tofu, which is understandable. Tze Long barely smells it at this point but he knows it’s quite off-putting to people not used to it.

Before they head to visit the nearby temples, he purchases fresh fruits to complete the culture shock: some lychee-like longans, a shockingly bright pink dragon fruit and a sweetsop, Tze Long’s personal favourite with its creamy, aromatic flesh. James’ curiosity knows no bounds and, very uncharacteristically, he doesn’t treat Hong Kong with his usual biting sarcasm. It’s not reverence he shows either, and Tze Long would be hard pressed to describe his attitude as anything more precise than simple enchantment.

They barely manage to get to Victoria Peak before sunset. Just like the rest of the city, the mountain is flooded with people, all trying to get the best selfie before moving on, whereas James leans against the railing on one of the viewing platforms and merely looks. Tze Long steps up next to him, close enough to touch, forcing the bustling activity behind them to the back of his mind and tries to see his home through James’ eyes. Below them, countless skyscrapers stretch upwards like fingers, reaching out for infinity.

“What about where you live?”, James wants to know after a long while. “I want to see where you used to work. Where you grew up.”

He shakes his head after some deliberation. “We don’t have time for that”, he lies when in reality he’s not ready to face this part of his life again, especially not show it to a stranger of sorts. His past feels deeply personal somehow, his struggle to end up where he is now like a secret he’d better keep. Part of it is simple vanity – he wouldn’t like to imagine James telling his colleagues, telling him. And of course, the one person who shared this history with him has now passed away.

James’ eyes are on him, attentive, almost waiting. “Next time?”, he asks, sounding hopeful. Tze Long wonders what kind of impression he’ll take away from this short visit.

“Yes. Next time.” He’s not sure if there will be one, but he hopes he’ll feel differently about himself by then.

“What was he like?”

A deep breath. How is he meant to answer this question? “Kind but firm”, he offers and puts a new toothpick in his mouth. “No time for nonsense but always willing to listen if something was on my mind. Distracted, at times. Whenever he found a gift for me, he’d present it so proudly. He was happiest when he could teach me things, show me the world. When he couldn’t work anymore, he -” His voice breaks, so he stops talking. Despite it not being his fault, guilt had plagued his father for decades. Having to rely on his only son, witnessing Tze Long’s struggle took its toll on him just like on Tze Long himself, though it changed into fierce pride later on, once he became a Flying Tiger. But he remembers the forlorn stare into their empty cupboards, the reassurances of being able to mend clothes, shoes, self-image.

James is going to get a sunburn and it’s not going to be pretty. He hasn’t tanned much this summer yet and Tze Long wants to reach out to protect his skin from the merciless rays. To maybe run fingers through his luscious hair. “He sounds like a good father.”

“He was.”

And despite the serenity of the moment, James actually goes there: “Your description of him reminds me of someone.”

Tze Long fights down the urge to simply leave. He’s better than that. “I bet you won’t drink a whole glass of durian milk”, he switches topics and earns a side-glance he’s incapable of deciphering.

“- you should’ve seen his face when I told him to shove it, pure comedy, this dude was not used to anyone saying no to him, not with him built like a bloody fridge and that stupid fuckin’ tattoo on his forehead, something daft like carnivorous or edgelord, I don’t even remember, I only remember thinking: this lad must’ve randomly picked a word from the dictionary that sounded cool.”

Tze Long moves his own drink out of the range of James’ flailing arms but makes no move to interrupt him.

“And me, a foot shorter and seemingly harmless, refusing to budge? Well, you can imagine what happened.”

“I do hope you wiped the floor with him.”

“First he punched me in the throat, but yes, afterwards I most definitely wiped the floor but only because he tripped over some barbed wire, nearly shredded his entire dick and bled all over the fucking linoleum. That was the last time he tried to sell some fake insurance, I’m sure.”

Drunk James is adorable. He’s become a waterfall, largely unaware of himself not in an inconsiderate way but an endearing one, speaking his mind openly and demanding Tze Long’s full attention. He fills silences with anything and everything, after two cocktails already, and he goes deaf when Tze Long tells him that going on a plane while intoxicated might not be the best idea. They’re perched by the bar, sipping bitter liquor because today is just one of those days and let the soft pop music relax their muscles.

While he prattles on, rants about the next odd encounter, Tze Long gets distracted by the curve of his eyebrows and the hard jaw and he wonders whether he’s still interested. What he’d say to the suggestion of dipping into a hotel real quick. It’s less than an hour until he has to be at the airport, however, hardly enough time, but idly toying with the idea is fun nonetheless.

“Thank you for coming”, he eventually manages to interject while James takes a breath.

“Aye. Mike relayed the message and it sounded like you might get in trouble, or your colleague might. He’s off gallivanting around the Middle East somewhere I think, claims he’s busy doing recon or whatnot but I bet he’s lazing in the sun and resting his bones. Soon he’s gonna be the oldest bloke in the SAS, did you know? Fucker’s immortal. Some of the lads who bet on his retirement are gone themselves by now.”

Tze Long did not know this. He doesn’t know a lot of things about Mike. “I appreciate your help, in any way.”

“Believe me, your boss didn’t.” James grins and it makes him look years younger. “I might get shit for it but my major has my back. And I got yours. If anything else is up, let me know and I’ll travel half the world again.”

He has no doubt James would, and he tries to identify whether it’s a snipe aimed at him for texting Mike only, not him, but isn’t sure. His brooding is interrupted when he spots a familiar figure at the other end of the counter, glancing over and flashing him a wide smile. “Oh no”, he mutters to himself.

“I swear though, that bloody rotten egg fruit, whatever it’s called, I’m never touching one of those again, I still wanna throw up every time I burp.” James interrupts himself to follow Tze Long’s gaze. “What, someone making bedroom eyes at you?”

“Yes. He’s very charming, to be honest.” He sighs, shaking his head. Should’ve known better than to drag James to his usual club. “And very married.”

“That happen often?”

It’s too complicated to go into detail, so he nods. Having grandchildren continues to be one of the highest priorities in the life of a parent, and Tze Long has met many, many guys living a double life – one for society and their family, one for themselves. He’d rather not get involved with these men even if it means limiting himself.

“Want me to take care of it?”

The seemingly innocent question makes him huff in amusement. “Please don’t start a bar fight, I’d hate to get banned.”

“More than one way to show you’re not interested”, James mutters and true, he’s right.

Tze Long doesn’t even mind. He puts his toothpick aside.

They meet halfway between their chairs and James’ corners of his mouth are turned upwards when they do. He tastes of rum and tobacco and the tendrils of addiction pull at him enticingly at the reminder of what he’s given up; the background noise fades in favour of his own heartbeat and James is still smiling, never once stops. His smile feels like a thinly-veiled accusation and a self-satisfied victory simultaneously and yet Tze Long can’t get enough. James switches to his chair, actually settles on his thighs without breaking the heady touch of lips on lips, clearly uncaring of the spectacle they’re putting on. Tze Long’s hands stray to his sides and for once, he’s not picturing a different body between his palms.

“I think we’re good”, he murmurs after a while, after all decency is long overthrown.

“Hmm, no, he’s still looking”, James hums back without even opening his eyes once, smile widening, but when Tze Long withdraws, he relents and instead pulls him into a hug.

And it just overwhelms him. The rare feel of a warm body makes him realise he hasn’t deliberately, consciously touched another human being in days, reminds him of the empty apartment he’ll return to, chock full of memories and shards which don’t cut deep by themselves yet make up a fearsome blade as a whole; reminds him of the desperate loneliness which creeps up on him now and then, whenever he’s weak, whenever he lets it. He thinks of the eternal double check mark, message received, thinks of his colleagues’ triumphant faces as they recounted the successful mission without him.

He clings, hard, and only notices the supportive arms wrapped around him once his fingers have stopped shaking. He’s breaking down in the middle of the bar, visible to everyone, to people he knows, and the shame burns almost worse than his grief.

Regardless, James is still there. Whispering nothings, stroking his back soothingly, acting as if none of this was out of line. His warmth is painful because he’s unsure how to repay it, but right now he has no choice but to accept.

“It’s okay”, James tells him like he really believes it. “You’ll be alright.”

~*~

He turns out to be correct, even if it takes some time for Tze Long to wholly believe it.

A piercing stare accompanies the realisation together with a suffocating amount of information he’s expected to digest and memorise, and yet he couldn’t be happier. The office is nondescript and icy for his standards and he can already tell it’ll take some time to get used to this part of the earth.

“I am very happy to know you in our team”, Six finishes with a seriousness Tze Long respects. “Welcome to Rainbow.”

“It is an honour.” He matches her tone. “I’m looking forward to working with you, ma’am.” He knows when he’s dismissed, gets up and ready to start this new chapter of his life, but curiosity gets the better of him: “May I ask – am I the only one of my unit you’ve recruited?”

Six’ expression softens. The formal part is over, she can rest assured all her points have come across and therefore she allows herself some friendliness. “No. One of your colleagues will join us as well – Mei Lin Siu.”

He finds himself smiling. “That is an excellent choice, ma’am.”

“Funny. She said the same thing about you.”

~*~

England is cold, empty, quiet and boring. And Tze Long is surprisingly fine with it.

He traded comfortable warmth for considerably less rain – even if the Spanish operators give him an odd look over this statement – and exercising outdoors is less suffocating, less of a chore. Admittedly, he could do without winter but after having been enlightened about layers, sealing gloves and sleeves and other tricks which Mira and Jackal divulge gladly, it’s not that bad. Even if summer has him a little homesick now and then. Sometimes he also misses the liveliness of his home, the many faces just like his, the natural way people accept each other as an inevitability. Here, it happens that existing in a space earns him disapproving glances.

But it’s quiet. He sleeps like the dead, hasn’t been this calm in decades and finally finds enough time to really pursue hobbies he had to neglect previously: he reads for days on end, dabbles (and generally fails) in a few crafty endeavours, follows the news from the silence of his apartment, feeling secure, comfy, safe. He picks up cooking, much to James’ delight, and together they spend a weekend on xiao long bao, having to re-do the dough several times and despairing over the soup gelatin only to give up and attempt it again a week later, nailing it first try. And whenever the muted quality of this country threatens to overwhelm him, he puts on some music, a film, or simply invites James over.

He doesn’t have many complaints, not when he spends most of his free mornings in bed with a steaming cup of coffee by his side and phone in hand, the world under his fingertips. Still, it required some getting used to the way people treat each other, the blunt and direct style of communication, the many gestures which would be deemed horribly rude in Asia.

Tze Long idly ponders cultural differences while Mike hands him a bowl of rice, chopsticks simply stabbed into it.

Next to him, he can sense James’ eyes widening before he quickly snatches the utensils and holds them out to Tze Long instead. They share a secret, slightly embarrassed smile, just like they did when Mike presented him with four sample bottles of whisky from his favourite distilleries – he can’t expect everyone to be aware of common superstitions, but he would’ve guessed the social stigma around the number four would’ve been widespread enough to have reached Mike’s ears. Even Mark pulled a face in the background, and James elbowed him, accepting one of the bottles gratefully.

Mike is trying, that’s the part which counts, and Tze Long is fiercely appreciative: he hasn’t celebrated his birthday properly in an eternity, certainly not with colleagues which have become more than that over time, and certainly not with gifts as thoughtful as the ones he’s received (like the high quality tea from Mei Lin, and an entire book series of English classics from James). Mike is trying, and as he’s come to realise over the years, this doesn’t always amount to much. But it doesn’t matter, provided he manages his expectations.

Somewhere along the way, he’s stopped drinking up literally every single word dripping from his lips, stopped blindly accepting, stopped the worship. Mike is a friend. Mike is even a bit of a shit friend a lot of the time, yet his heart remains in the right place – which is a little distant, a little distracted, and far, far away from Tze Long’s.

“This is the best thing you’ve ever cooked”, he informs his gracious host matter-of-factly, and can spot the flattered happiness through the ensuing modesty. It’s certainly not the best thing he’s ever eaten, but his statement remains true nonetheless. Aniseed in curry is courageous and the result a little odd yet edible, and so complaining is the furthest thing on his mind.

When Mike is back to bustling around in the kitchen, Mei Lin quietly asks the other guests: “He really went all out. Does he do this often?”

“Never”, replies Seamus, sounding amused. He looks a giant next to Tze Long’s comparatively dainty teammate, though they seem to get along well. “He’s forgotten Mark’s and Jamie’s before, and gave me out-of-date rum truffles for my birthday.”

“Aren’t you on a diet?”, she asks, prompting a meaningful nod.

“He really cares about Tze Long, even if he’s not sure how to show it”, James interjects, sounding bored. “They’ve been friends for a long while, after all.”

“We have been friends for a long while”, Tze Long feels the need to point out. James’ eyes slide over to him, bore into his skull, almost intense enough to cause him to lower his gaze – but he doesn’t. He knows what it’s for, all the dismissive replies in the beginning, him acting as if the clown (whose humour meshed surprisingly well with his own, who was willing to undertake the same risks as him, who watched his every move) was invisible. If he could go back, he’d act differently. If he could go back, he wouldn’t spend a significant amount of his life chasing after a castle in the sky.

But he did, and now it’s done.

“We have”, he affirms, and instead of agreeing, James gets distracted by Seamus addressing him, and this simple fact shouldn’t bother Tze Long as much as it does. He doesn’t have a monopoly on him, he has to regularly remind himself of this. He didn’t earn the right to have one.

Joining Mike in the kitchen feels less like a conscious decision and more of an escape. “I can’t thank you enough”, he begins and is immediately interrupted by a scoff.

“You could lie and tell me this blobby pudding isn’t the most sorry-looking excuse for custard you’ve ever seen.”

“This custard looks delicious”, Tze Long lies smoothly and Mike’s gruff laugh mends his brittle soul a bit. They’ve learnt to interact with each other without any of the awkwardness prevalent in the beginning of Tze Long’s time in Rainbow.

“Good lad. And you don’t need to thank me, it’s the least I can do. For once, you could shut up and accept people being nice to you.” It’s ingrained in Tze Long to fight for the bill, react modestly to and dismiss compliments rather than accept them, refuse gifts a few times when receiving them. He opens his mouth to object, but once more Mike is faster: “I’ve received complaints about you, you know. You’re being too bloody nice – people just need to mention a book and you’ve already promised to let them borrow it, you give lifts to unsuspecting whiners and generally are too friendly. We’re in fucking England, no one knows how to deal with that shite here.”

Tze Long grins, even if he’s aware Mike isn’t purely joking. “Are you suggesting I’m not already playing my part in making our work environment… more toxic?”

The eye roll he receives is inordinately satisfying, yet his triumph doesn’t last. “No, lad, I’m telling you to go out and bloody take something for yourself. Something which you’ve wanted for a long, long time. You’re allowed, you know? You’re allowed to demand things.”

And this strikes a chord. The smile on Tze Long’s lips fades the further the words sink, float down, down, down into the murky depths of his subconscious which reacts with instant, intense panic. Because they only become louder the deeper they reach, their echo reverberating and creating a cacophony making it impossible to think straight. Unhelpfully, his conscious mind provides a solution, the one suggestion which he’s carried on his tongue for years, wrote on his forehead, the one truth he thought irrevocable: “Are you telling me to ask you out?”

The awkwardly-shaped sentence lodges in his throat, causes the gears in his head to grind and shriek, and it’s wrong, so wrong, if Mike says yes he’s never setting foot in his flat again, fuck the idolising, fuck professional relationships, he’ll curl up in ball and shake and shiver and shudder because no, it’s not what he wants, maybe something he never wanted in the first place.

While he’s still reeling from what’s raging on inside him, Mike throws him an almost pitiful glance. “Not me I’m talking about”, he grumbles. “I mean the one bloke whose friendliness you’ve always accepted without any protest.”

And isn’t that the fucking point?

It’s the one person who consistently made him lose face, no matter what, humiliated him with his displays of adoration Tze Long could never hope to repay, proved him unworthy with every breath he takes, and his presence burns under his fingernails, a constant itch chipping away at his honour because he deserves none of it and yet he wants. Oh he wants. He’s humbled by every easy laugh following disrespect, and the more this shadowy figure was pushed away, the harder it tried to keep up, and keeping it hazy is so much easier than allowing its entire being to invade every nook and cranny of his life.

Only -

That already happened a while ago, didn’t it?

James is outside, an unopened beer in his hand and smoking by himself because Seamus doesn’t endorse his addiction and Mei Lin and Mark hate the smell. He’s glowing in the setting sun, illuminated almost from the inside and Tze Long viciously wishes his brilliancy was contagious. “What’s wrong?”, he asks, unaware of the storm raging behind Tze Long’s unchanged exterior.

“I’m cold”, he replies, earning furrowed brows.

“It’s July.”

“Yes.”

They look at each other. James’ lips purse around the cigarette and Tze Long wants to grab the bottle and smash it on the asphalt, just to expend some of the energy throbbing through him. “Did Mike say anything? Are you okay?”

“I bought two tickets to Hong Kong.” And it’s out. With this, he’s handed himself over and there’s no going back.

“You’re going with him?” Carefully neutral. James stubs out the cigarette and takes out his key ring with its bottle opener attached. There’s a piece of string, too, displaying some of the decorative beads Tze Long recognises easily. The charm must’ve fallen off or broken after extensive use over the years.

“I wouldn’t want him to come along.”

Busy hands pause. He still doesn’t understand. “Mei Lin is accompanying you?”

“No.” They don’t have leave at the same time anyway. But he and James do. Always had.

Fingers twitch. Then slowly set the beer down on the stone steps behind them. He’s looking everywhere but at Tze Long, long hair falling into his eyes. “So -”

“I’ve been buying two ever since I joined Rainbow.” They both know how conscious he is of spending money.

“Jesus”, says James.

Tze Long is dizzy. He expected this moment to taste half-fermented, almost rotten, like a fruit ignored for too long, but instead it’s an explosion of refreshing flavour and pleasant sweetness, horrifyingly addicting. His face hurts and he realises that he’s grinning from cheek to cheek, must look like a lunatic if James’ expression is anything to go by. “Come with me. Please.”

And James seems to understand what he means, even if a frown tugs on his mouth and the face he makes is one of sorrow and not happiness, yet when Tze Long steps closer, James latches onto him like a drowning man.

His turmoil is far from appeased, but one thought prevails above all, forces his emotions to simmer down: I might not deserve this, he thinks, but he certainly does. He holds James until he’s shaking only with laughter, nothing else, the half-suppressed bouts of relief convincing him more and more of having made the right decision. They’re each other’s anchors, unwilling to let go, and beam at each other so brightly it blots out the sun.

“I’d love to”, James tells him in that rare, genuine tone of voice Tze Long has never heard him use with anyone else. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side.” His lack of hesitation only increases James’ luminosity. “I’ll show you everything, James. I’ll show you all.” This seems to convince him, no doubt due to the far-reaching implications.

This time, when they kiss, Tze Long knows for a fact he won’t feel his stomach drop afterwards. And it’s mostly because he knows it won’t be their last one.

#rainbow six siege #smoke #lesion #smoke/lesion #fanfic #oneshot #commissions #this gave me the worst case of wanderlust #if I didn't portray anything correctly please let me know!!

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onceuponaprincessworld · 6 years

Text

CaptainSwan Neighbors Au

Hello CS fandom! I made a new list and it’s a long one because there are so many great stories with that trope. It includes stories where our favorite couple are neighbors. Hope you enjoy!

If you are intrested you can find my other lists here.

Multichapter Complete

With Affection, @phiralovesloki

Emma Swan isn't a middle schooler. So why is she receiving notes from a secret admirer? She's also definitely not a romantic person. So why is she writing back? Modern!AU Captain Swan, with side orders of Snowing and Frankenwolf. Updated with second epilogue.

Knock, Knock, @charmingturkeysandwich

Emma Swan has made the best of her crappy apartment ever since she became best friends with her neighbor, Ruby. But when Ruby moves out and a loud Brit takes her place, the thin walls and lack of space are suddenly not so endearing. After a particularly stressful day, Emma decides to confront the nightmare next door, and entirely against her better judgment, she might just be making a friend.

The Pirate Next Door , @the-captains-ayebrows

A handsome stranger moves into the apartment right next to Emma Swan's. Emma isn't ready for romance, but what harm could come of making friends with the charming self-proclaimed "pirate" whose bedroom shares a wall with hers?

Unbreakable, @xemmaloveskillianx

What if Hook was able to go with Emma and Henry when they left to escape Pan’s curse? With no memory of each other or Storybrooke, Emma and Killian meet in New York as complete strangers, both with broken pasts, and both with clean slates for their future.

Sign of Attraction, @hooklineandswan

Some day she was going to find a way to kill him without leaving a trace. Hopefully it would happen before he drove her insane.

In the Name of the Brother, @tnlph

Killian Jones not only finds out about his father's death, but about the brother he never knew he had. Rather than let another Jones boy grow up without a father, Killian takes the boy into his life. He'll do all he can to be the man for his younger brother that his older brother had been for him.

Lend me some sugar, I am your neighbor, @kittennharington

Killian and Emma knew each other in middle school before she was taken away to a new foster home. They meet each other again years later as neighbors in an apartment complex. Contains smut.

Can You Feel it Right Now?, @cutieodonoghue

When Emma Swan agrees to let her annoying neighbor Killian Jones join her to go to the grocery store, the last thing she could have ever anticipated is becoming his wife over the course of a conversation with some people from his past.

Some Sort of Neighborly, @shipping-goggles

They're not neighbors, not exactly, and they're not friends either. It's pretty hard to find reasons to bump into the woman who lives next door to your best friend, especially after your only interaction with her has been waking up on her couch one Saturday morning. Sequel to Rude Awakening.

Look What the Cat Dragged In, @athenascarlet

There are only a couple things Killian Jones knows about his neighbor, Emma Swan. She's a bail bonds person and she's attractive. Also, she apparently has a cat. And he apparently is now her cat sitter.

The Reason, @xemmaloveskillianx

he three of them share a laugh before they all look to Emma. She has yet to comment on the new addition because she isn’t sure what to say. She usually doesn’t like change, they have a good thing going there, just the four of them. Plus, they all know him and she doesn’t, but she trusts their judgement, and she’s sure any brother of Liam can’t be all that bad.

So, with a shrug and a smile she says, “Welcome to Storybrooke, Killian Jones.”

Make Some Noise, @fyeahcaptn

Emma doesn't hate her neighbour per say, she barely knows him. Killian Jones an irritating, insufferable ass who's far too cocky and confident for his own good but seriously, would it hurt him to keep the shower to a normal time like an actual human being? Before she kills him. Modern!AU.

Pay It Forward, @acrobat-elle

Breaking your ankle is one thing. Breaking your ankle three days after you moved into a fifth-floor walkup is something else entirely.

Wip

A Helping Hand, @hookedonapirate

My girlfriend just dumped me and I've gotten piss drunk and somehow managed to get into your apartment instead of my own. I'm trying to masturbate my feelings away and boy were you surprised.

Breaking the Hinges, @piratesails

When Killian Jones decides to spend his night off relaxing in his apartment, the last thing he expects is a beautiful blonde woman bursting through his front door.

Neighborly Affection, @hookslovelyswan

Emma Swan's new neighbor, Killian Jones, is the talk of the neighborhood, and living next door to him is almost more than she can stand, especially since the man doesn't seem to own a shirt! But the tug she feels toward him is inexorable, and the genuine feelings that develop between them...quite unexpected.

One-shot

Transatlanticism, @mahstatins

Emma Swan went to Britain looking for family. It should have been a Hallmark movie, a Christmas miracle waiting to happen. Instead she’s stuck in a grimy London ‘flat’, with the worst next door neighbor in the world.

Well, maybe not the worst.

What a Year (for a New Year), @high-seas-swan

Killian Jones, Boston Bruins right winger, needs a break from the questions and concerns over his career-threatening injury. He thought Storybrooke would be the perfect place to escape to. What he didn't expect was Emma Swan, her kid and a holiday season he never knew he needed.

Subtle and Nuanced, @phiralovesloki

Killian Jones has an unusual relationship with a neighbor in which they exchange notes via cat. He’s also slowly falling for his flower shop’s newest customer. Surely these two things are unrelated.

Tim Finnegan's Wake, @icecubelotr44

"You live in the apartment next to mine and you're always blasting music while I'm trying to sleep but you've been silent for the last two days, are you all right?"

Emma Swan never minded the music. Not until she broke her ankle and her shift moved to days. Now she just wants to sleep. But Killian Jones doesn't seem to notice. So when the condo next door goes silent, she's understandably concerned. When she finds Killian after he got the phone call about his brother he never expected, they'll have to figure out if everything is as it seems.

Smoke and Mirrors, @lifeinahole27

I was burning scented candles and fell asleep. You’re my neighbour who bashed the door down when my smoke alarm went off.

The Perils of Firemen and the Food Network, @shireness-says

Emma Swan is not a cook. But maybe, with the help of her upstairs neighbor, she could be - if her feelings don't get in the way.

Keep On Fallin' , @resident-of-storybrooke

Emma Swan may be a successful bail bondsperson, but when it comes to her love life not so much. After several failed blind dates Emma is ready to give up, but Mary Margaret convinces her to give it one more shot. Is Mr. One Shot going to be the one? Or is she willing to risk taking a chance with her blue eyed gorgeous neighbor?

For the Story, nothandlingit

If there's one thing Killian Jones is ruthlessly stubborn on, it's not letting Emma Swan know how many coffee/hot chocolate/bear claw combinations he's had to gift on to unsuspecting strangers when she doesn't show up at the little bakery near their apartment building. Turns out accidentally running into each other costs some money. A CS AU week submission - beloved tropes.

The Worst/Best Christmas Ever, @captainhookcaptainfreedom

When their flight home is cancelled, Emma is convinced that she and Henry are going to have the worst Christmas ever. However, their next door neighbor, Killian Jones, has different ideas.

That Guy Next Door, @a-fictional-life

M-rated AU one shot just cos it’s Saturday…

You Make Me Better, @ilovemesomekillianjones

CS Neighbors AU where Emma is a nurse and Killian is her definitely-faking-it hypochondriac neighbor who uses illnesses and injuries as an excuse to talk to her.

walking the high line, @losttalongthewayy

Captain Swan NYC neighbors AU – It’s Emma Swan’s 28th birthday and she finds herself stuck helping her upstairs neighbor —the very one she’s sure she hates.

seven for all mankind, @arexnna

“we’re neighbours and we do everything together and spend all our time together and that’s normal, but someone pointed out how we’re essentially dating, but we aren’t, are we?”

Postcards and Shower Songs, @nightships

Emma often finds herself wondering whether it's possible to hate a stranger. Despite never having met or seen him before in her life, she knows exactly two things about Mr. K. Jones — he gets a ton of mail from all over the world and he plays extremely loud music when he wakes up in the morning.

Too Hot (Hot Damn), @this-too-too-sullied-flesh

Emma just doesn’t know what’s hotter--the weather and the fact that the air conditioning is out in her building, or her neighbor.

The Savior's Spatula, @imhookedonaswan

Killian Jones hears his neighbor Emma screaming from her apartment, being the gentleman he is he grabs the first thing he can find to go try to save her.

how not to meet your neighbor…, @startswithhope

Here’s a bit of modern AU nonsense, starring Killian and Emma…

The Sabbatical (or how Emma Swan brought Valentine’s Day back), @lenfaz

Killian Jones abhors his neighbors. He really does.

Two-Shots

The Favor, @madjm

AU. Emma Swan doesn't do relationships, but her annoyingly attractive neighbor, Killian Jones, might change her views. Captain Swan. Previously on ffnet.

The Not So Neighborly Noise, @optomisticgirl

After an exhausting day, one which started with her annoying neighbor waking her up with his singing, all Emma Swan wanted to do was sleep. Little did she know when she crawled into bed that night that everything she thought she knew was going to shift dramatically. Can a closed off woman give a man a chance to prove her wrong?

Ten Minutes, @hookedonapirate

“The game's simple, really. In fact you, my love, don’t have to do a thing,” he ends with a click of his tongue, his silky accent sending shivers down her spine.

“Don’t call me that,” Emma warns him, but honestly her heart is thumping and her interest is highly piqued, “but please do go on.”

“It’s called Ten Minutes. You give me ten minutes to do anything I want to you—touching, teasing, kissing, biting, whatever I want. You so much as moan or make any sound of pleasure, you lose.”

Emma bites her lip at the idea of him doing all those things to her and feels heat creeping into her cheeks. “And if I win? What do I get out of this?”

“If you win, I will never bother you again.”

A grin spreads across her lips. “Okay, you totally made this game up, but sure, I’ll play along,” she decides confidently. She has no doubt she’ll win, so why not? Emma sits up and places the bottle on the floor, glancing over at him again. “You’re on, Jones.”

We Can Feel So Far (From So Close), @once-uponacaptain

Waiting until your best friend left for a cross country tour was a fine time to realize you're in love with him. Captain Swan.

Stray Hearts, @piratesails

He’s insufferable, and nothing, not even the fact that he’s laughing with childlike glee as he cuddles a litter of stray kittens, will change Emma’s mind about Killian Jones. Or, that’s what she thought, anyway.

Three-Shots

Please, Please, Say You Feel it Too, @cutieodonoghue

modern au; Emma pawns her son off to her neighbor Killian. Romance ensues. (Daddy!Killian feels abound!)

Spider Slayer, @startswithhope

"This is totally awkward considering before this the only interactions we've ever had have been casual nods to each other in the hallway but there's a huge fucking spider in my bath tub and you seem like the friendly neighbor type please help me."

#cs ff #cs rec fic #cs rec ff #cs recs #cs fanfiction #cs fics #cs rec list #my rec list #fic rec #rec list #cs recs ff #cs ff rec #captain swan

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djarin-skywalkers · 5 years

Text

Resurrection ~ A Star Wars Story (Part 6 of 7)

Rating: General

Word Count: 4,300

Characters: Ahsoka Tano, Leia Organa

Summary: A father’s sacrifice, a son’s love, a second chance at life. An alternate ending to Return of the Jedi.

Chapter Summary: Ahsoka and Leia have a chat and Leia learns a little more about her father.

Read on fanfiction

Read on AO3

Part 1

Leia watched with a pensive frown as the Togruta walked around the base.

As soon as they had landed, she and Luke had disappeared together with the droids in tow.

All but Threepio had one thing in common: some kind of memory of Anakin Skywalker.

She was too tired to care much as they walked off without her but she had a long time to reflect in the refresher. She hated it but she felt inexplicably angry that they all seemed to share something she could not.

This woman was a stranger, yet as soon as Luke discovered her prior connection to their father he hadn't left her side. The entire trip back to Endor was the two of them sharing stories, mostly Luke asking questions, because as much time as he'd been spending with their father he was still so much of a mystery to them.

Thank the stars for Han who provided her with a distraction. She listened for a while as Ahsoka spoke but still struggled with connecting anything she said to the man she knew as Vader and at the very least Han shared her distrust of the man.

Once they arrived she knew precisely where they were going and it wasn't as if she wanted to go with them. As they wandered off without her though, it was just another reminder of the damage he had done to their lives.

After she washed and rested, she stepped out for a walk and spotted Luke and Ahsoka together again. They walked slowly, side by side as they talked. Their faces were more relaxed but solemn. Then Luke finally walked off and Ahsoka was left by herself.

She stared out the windows, hands behind her back, still and silent for a long time. Then finally she walked over to a bench and lowered herself down, her shoulders slumped as she buried her head in her hands.

Leia debated leaving her be but her curiosity got the better of her. She knew they had no doubt had a conversation with her father and she had disappeared down there for hours and then emerged clearly in distress.

Ahsoka’s shoulders tensed as she approached and she slowly lifted herself up and turned around.

Her eyes were wet and cheeks tear stained but her face had pulled tight and even to hide her emotions.

“Leia.” She smiled weakly and greeted her as if she were an old friend, or family.

Leia wondered if things had gone a different way, they might have been. As it were, she was just a stranger and the informal greeting left her a little unsettled.

Ahsoka wiped her cheeks. “Can I do something for you?”

Leia stopped in front of her. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I know you were going to speak with…” she trailed off and grew frustrated with herself. Why was it so difficult to name him?

“Anakin.”

Leia's eyes narrowed slightly, her stomach twisting as the name easily left Ahsoka's lips. It was difficult for her because where she had her doubts about who he really was, Ahsoka, like Luke seemed to be more than certain.

“Yes.” She cleared her throat and nodded. “I'm sorry, I don't mean to disturb you. I saw you were upset and I just wanted to make sure he hadn't hurt you.”

Ahsoka’s face tightened and she straightened up to her full height. “He wouldn't hurt me.”

Leia frowned skeptically. She had countless memories of all those Vader had killed or injured. Yet again, like Luke, Ahsoka seemed to believe he was no longer a danger.

“I know what you think, Leia and I understand why you do.”

Leia hardened defensively, her eyes narrowing. “You don't know anything about me.”

“And you know nothing about me,” Ahsoka responded quickly, “or my relationship with your father.”

Leia flinched at the still unfamiliar term for the man.

“Anakin wouldn't hurt me.” Ahsoka repeated confidently.

“And how do you know that?” Her question was asked out of curiosity but she couldn't help the sharp bite in her voice. “How do you know who he is right now?”

Ashoka smiled sadly. “I know my master.” She explained quietly.

Leia didn’t know Ahsoka well and hadn’t spent too much time with her but one thing she did know was that it seemed she was well liked and well respected by those around her. She found it hard to believe that a woman like Ahsoka could have ever been trained by someone like him.

“I fought beside Anakin for years. And,” she quickly added, as if she could sense where her thoughts were going, “I also fought against Vader. I've seen what it was like when he was lost to the dark side and that man down there...” she glanced off distantly, her smile fading into a deep, sad frown. She sighed and then slowly looked back at her. “He is lost but not to the darkness, not anymore. He's changed from the man I knew, of course he has, and I’ve changed as well but I can see my friend again and talking to him…” the corners around her eyes crinkled with pain. “To know all he's suffered…”

“All he's suffered?” Leia cut her off sharply. The heat rose to her cheeks as her anger flared to life and she took a quick step closer to her. “Do you know what he's done?”

Ahsoka stared her down seriously, unflinching. “Of course I know what he's done.”

“Yet you sympathize with him?” she scoffed.

“I am not sympathetic to the man he became. If it was Darth Vader who sat down there he would not have my sympathy or compassion.” Ahsoka’s voice was firm and Leia knew she spoke the truth which really spoke to the fact she did believe he was no longer Vader.

“In fact...I had the chance to take down Vader once before and I would have killed him.” She visibly flinched at this admission and Leia felt an odd stirring in her chest.

The loudest part of her said she would have liked to see the end of Vader but there was a small, new part of her - Luke’s voice - that told her that perhaps he was a man worth saving.

“Why didn't you?”

Ahsoka took a deep breath in, then out and her eyes drifted upwards eyes as her mind drifted to a memory. “Our last encounter was in a crumbling temple, we were separated by the rubble before either he or I could kill the other.”

Leia shoved that small voice back down as her hostility grew. “He was going to kill you.”

Ahsoka looked back to her, her eyes calm on the surface but so much emotion lay beyond. “Darth Vader was, yes.”

Leia sighed heavily. “I fail to see the distinction!”

“You never knew him as anything other than Vader but I knew Anakin and I…” she paused and a few emotions flickered over her face, until it once again finally settled on sad and serious.

“No, Leia, I do not sympathize with Darth Vader and I never could but how Anakin became him…” She closed her eyes tightly for a moment and then let out a hard sigh, her shoulders visibly slumping. “I can't say I understand or justify anything he's done but I also knew him before all of that and he was... amazing.”

Ahsoka’s head lifted, her face softened and her eyes lit up with awe and Leia felt her chest tighten. She had never seen someone talk about him in that way before, not even Luke. It was her first real glimpse at Anakin Skywalker from someone who had actually known him. He had always just been a story but for the first time she could see he had been a real person and a friend to the woman who stood before her.

“He was a rule breaker,” Her lips turned up at the corners and she let out a small laugh, “but he was a good man.” Her face sobered again and she looked at Leia seriously. “I know that might be hard for you to believe but he was. The best man I had ever known and to think what must have happened to turn that man I knew into…” her voice broke and she let out a shuddering breath. “It's unfathomable.” She whispered, the despair evident in her voice and Leia's heart went out to her. Anakin was clearly someone who was very important to her and he had betrayed her as well.

“And I wasn't there for him.” She slowly lowered herself down, closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself. “He needed someone and I left.”

Leia’s face softened in a frown, her anger releasing and she walked over and sat down beside her.

She sat in silence beside her for a long minute but as Ahsoka began to tremble she wrapped her arm around her shoulders. “It is not your fault.”

Ahsoka turned tear filled eyes to her “I could have helped him.”

Leia shook her head, her brow pressed down firmly. “It was his decision…”

“He was corrupted by a number of different circumstances. Yes, it was his decision but if he had someone to stop him before he made that decision….” She trailed off and looked off distantly. Her face twisted in sorrow. “I could have been that someone.”

Her words struck Leia hard. She didn’t know what had happened to turn the so called great Anakin Skywalker into the deadly Darth Vader but to her a decision like that rested solely on him and no one or nothing could have prevented it. At least, she imagined that to be so. If it was true that Luke brought him back after twenty years, maybe there was something that could have been done. She dare not place blame on anyone but him, however, especially not on Ahsoka. Still, it was his son that brought him back to the light, and made her wonder...

“How close were you to him exactly?”

Ahsoka laughed half heartedly and smiled weakly. “You and your brother think alike. He asked me the same question and I will give you the same answer. I am not nor have I ever been in love with him. What I have with Anakin...it's a difficult feeling to explain to someone who is not, or never was a Jedi. He was my master and that bond is almost unbreakable. He was my friend and brother. He was family.”

“The Force connects you.” Leia realized and Ahsoka nodded with a small, tender smile.

“I think I understand that. I share that with Luke, I was connected to him before I even knew he was my brother.”

“Yes, Luke told me you were force sensitive.” Ahsoka smiled at her, almost proudly and Leia once again had that sinking feeling in her chest. The feeling that she had missed out on something great. She wouldn’t have traded her parents or her life with them for anything but the what if’s were a constant, if subtle, tug at her mind and heart.

A brother is what Ahsoka called Anakin. If he hadn’t chosen the wrong path, would they have all been a family? Despite being separated for over twenty years, Ahsoka still deeply cared for Anakin and took to Luke as if they were family, she looked at her like she was a proud Aunt. And what did it all mean for going forward? Would Ahsoka continue to stay around? Leia had the feeling she would judging only by how devoted she was to Anakin.

Ahsoka leaned in closer to her and lifted her shoulders. “You could have that with Anakin too, if you let it.”

Leia scowled. The thought of sharing the same type of connection with Darth Vader as she shared with her brother sent a chill down her spine and caused her stomach to twist uneasily.

“You don't want to.” Ahsoka keenly observed and Leia’s dark eyes looked up at her quietly.

Ahsoka smiled weakly. “That's alright. I suppose I wouldn't want to start a connection with someone whose mind had been clouded by darkness for so long.”

“Can you break the connection you have with him?” Leia asked. She didn't like the thought of connecting with him for the first time, she would hate to be in a position where she couldn't break an already forged connection.

“I can and I have.” Ahsoka nodded. “For over twenty years it was broken though I don't know if that was his doing or mine. For a while I thought Anakin was dead because I couldn't feel him. He closed himself off to me, to anyone. Now that he's back, I reach for him and I can feel him again.” Her eyes closed and she straightened up and a small, almost peaceful smile tugged at her lips.

Leia watched her curiously as she no doubt was connecting with him at that very moment.

Without really thinking about it, Leia prodded out and could feel Luke's presence. It was a skill that Luke was helping her to strengthen. She didn't want to use the Force in the same way her brother did, and the only person she was interested in connecting with in such an intimate way was Luke.

Her breath caught in her chest as she suddenly caught hold of another presence. Unfamiliar, yet familiar at the same time, muted but powerful, sad and chilling.

She quickly retreated from the feeling, severing any connection before it started, and a shudder rolled through her.

She had felt him, almost connected with him and she wasn't sure how she felt about it.

Thankfully, Ahsoka hadn't noticed. She was still sitting quietly, peacefully, lost in the power of the Force.

Leia took a few slow, even breaths to calm her racing heart. She continued to watch Ahsoka until she slowly relaxed her formerly straight posture, her eyes fluttering as she released herself from the connection.

“He's asleep now.” Ahsoka said quietly. “That's good.”

Leia didn't respond to that and knew Ahsoka was talking to herself anyway.

“You really think you could have stopped him?” Leia asked her quietly.

Ahsoka opened her eyes and looked to her. A frown reformed her face and she shook off the last of her distraction. “I'm not certain but I definitely would have tried. He told me what happened, the events leading up to it. He was afraid. So terribly afraid and the power the Dark Side offered him relieved those fears. He felt unstoppable when everyone around him was constantly trying to tell him how to live his life. His fear was fueled by his love for your mother and her protection was his top priority.”

Leia scoffed quietly. “He told me the same thing. Her protection.”

Her mind briefly wandered to Han. She loved him and would go through hell to save him but to sacrifice herself in that way, to surrender to darkness? She couldn't imagine going that far, even for Han.

“Anakin is very loyal and fiercely protective of those he loves. I've seen him risk life and limb for Artoo.”

Leia’s brow lifted at that. She couldn't imagine the man who could kill in an instant risking his life for a droid. That was the difference, she imagined, between Anakin and Vader and therein lay the distinction she hadn’t seen.

“For his wife, for his children...” Ahsoka glanced at her pointedly. She frowned, her eyes narrowing - she did not want to be a reason for Darth Vader’s existence. “...he would have done anything, including turning to the Dark Side.” Ahsoka glanced away for a moment and shook her head slowly. “He clearly did not think of the consequences of those actions.”

“No, he didn't.” Leia said sharply and crossed her arms tight to her chest.

Ahsoka slowly looked back to her and then turned her body towards her. “You are right, Leia, I don't know you. I don't know what his actions as Vader has done to you. I am not saying you should forgive him either. If I were in your position I don't know if I would.”

Her brow furrowed. “But you do.”

“I do,” she nodded, “because Anakin is too important to me to let him go when he needs me. When I left the Jedi, I was young and just wanted out. Your father did too but he didn't, maybe couldn't, bring himself to do it until…” she trailed off with another resigned sigh.

Leia’s lips pulled into a thoughtful frown. “Luke said he felt trapped.” She also remembered the words from his own mouth, telling her how his marriage to her mother was forbidden. No, not just their marriage but their love. His love was forbidden and yet he loved anyway.

Why didn't he just leave? She wondered. Why did he have to resort to the darkest of evils and in the name of love?

Ahsoka nodded quietly with a frown. “I knew he had issues with the Jedi, he told me he wanted to leave. The truth is that no one will know what was going on inside his head, I'm not sure even he knows. The Dark Side has a way of clouding one’s judgement.”

Leia slowly lowered her hands back down to her lap and then turned in towards Ahsoka. “Can you tell me what you see in him?” She needed to know from the perspective of someone who was not her brother. “And I don’t mean in the man you once knew but who he is now. After all he’s done, how can you believe there’s still good in him?”

To her surprise, Ahsoka took no time to think and instead only gave her a small smile before she answered. “The answer is because I do see the man I once knew in the man he is now. When I last saw him, as Vader, it was as if his heart and soul was gone.” She swallowed thickly and her shoulders shuddered. “We fought and I looked into his eyes and saw...nothing. Nothing but anger and hatred. That’s when I knew that Anakin was gone.”

Her voice broke, no doubt as her heart had done that day.

“Anakin was all heart. He appeared rough on the outside because that’s what a Jedi should be, free of all personal attachments, but he cared so deeply, almost too much and certainly too much for a Jedi.” She blinked away the moisture that started to form at her eyes. “I wasn’t sure what I would find when Luke told me he was still alive. I was frightened to come here because I didn’t want to have to face Vader again. But when Luke took me to him, I saw Anakin, I saw his heart. Leia,” She startled as Ahsoka gently placed her hand on top of hers, “I see a man who is broken because of his own actions, a man who couldn't see, at the time, what he was doing was wrong but now is truly remorseful for what he's done. I see the man who cares too much, a man who wants to know the children he lost so much time with.”

“It’s his own fault.” Leia hated how small her voice sounded. She wanted to remain angry at him and if all he ever was was Darth Vader she could be but Luke’s belief in him and Ahsoka’s knowledge of the man he once was and the love she still clearly had for him tore at her heart.

“I know that.” She squeezed Leia’s hand gently.

“Yet you and Luke think I should give him a chance.”

Ahsoka pressed her lips together. “No one can force you into feeling something you don't feel. All I know is, he is your father and he loves you.”

Leia shook her head. “He doesn't know me.” She protested weakly.

“He doesn't have to. He’s your father and all the darkness that consumed him for so long doesn’t change that. He's capable of such destruction, yes, but he's also capable of so much love. He let fear and anger and hate rule his life for so long, now he just wants the love he was always denied.”

Leia frowned skeptically. “You loved him.”

“I did.” She agreed with a small smile, “and I still do but as Jedi we couldn't acknowledge it and when I left he had no one.”

“He had my mother, didn’t he?”

Ahsoka smiled soft and sad. “Of course he did, yes. I won’t lie to you, Leia...I knew your mother, and while I suspected something was going on between them I didn’t know they were married and I don’t know what their relationship was like. Nobody knew, I imagine, except them and Padmé …” She flinched and her face flickered in anguish. “Their secrets died with her and lay with him and his viewpoint cannot exactly be trusted. I knew Padmé, she was passionate and strong, like you,” The corners of her eyes picked up with a spark of affection and Leia felt her heart jump. She didn’t know much about her mother and it was the first time anyone had compared her to her. “...and I’m sure she loved him dearly but it just wasn’t enough.” Ahsoka sighed as her face fell. “The Jedi had forced this way of life upon him, forced him to stay quiet, forced him to believe he had to handle his fears on his own. I escaped that life and it allowed my heart to open again but he didn't and that was his downfall.”

Leia sat quiet, allowing the words to settle. Finally she was beginning to see what had went wrong and while ultimately, it was his decision and his decision alone to become a Sith, there were heavy external factors that guided him there.

Her heart pounded and her mind raced with conflicting thoughts. Ahsoka broke through another piece of the wall she was refusing to see over, the wall that kept her at a safe distance from acknowledging the truth of her true parentage. If she allowed herself to connect to him, to feel for him, it meant she was accepting him and all he had done.

Leia shook her head stubbornly. “I can't love someone just because he fathered me or because he wants me to love him.”

“I understand that, perhaps better than most. You see I also never knew my birth parents. I was taken into the Jedi order at a very young age and I first met Anakin at fourteen. If my parents had shown up to claim me, I would have no connection or attachment to them. Anakin, Obi-wan, the Jedi... they were my family and the only one I've ever known. I don’t remember much of my past, especially of the time before the Jedi, but I do remember feeling alone. You weren't alone, not really, were you, Princess?”

The use of her title in that fashion almost would have been mocking and for a moment she felt a stirring of anger within her until it settled at Ahsoka’s kind eyes. “You had a family,” She smiled, “You had parents, great ones. I remember senator Organa and what a great man he was. No one can ever take that away from you, Leia, not even with their deaths.”

Leia's jaw tightened to stifle the quiver she felt stirring up at the thought of her parents. She turned a sharp look to the ground, fighting away the sting of tears at her eyes. She missed them terribly and wished they were still alive so she could ask them what to do.

“You know you look so much like him when you do that.” Ahsoka’s voice was soft and wistful and Leia quickly snapped her head up, her eyes slightly wide.

Ahsoka gave a small, sad smile. “You don't have to forgive him today, or next week or at all. Your relationship with him cannot be compared to your brother’s or my own. You have to decide what is right for you. I am glad you're here, talking to me and asking questions. You're angry, understandably so, but not apathetic. Maybe somewhere deep inside you, you do want to know him but you just can't get there yet.”

Leia tensed and briefly wondered if Ahsoka could get into her mind as well. Despite having just met her, she seemed to know exactly how she felt. Her mind subconsciously reaching out for him spoke more to it than she realized.

She wanted to understand what it was about him that kept Ahsoka and Luke loving him and she wondered if connecting to his feelings would help her to do just that. She was afraid that once she made that connection she wouldn't be able to break it and she didn't know what she'd find in his head.

“He will be there if and when you decide you are ready. He wanted you, Leia, I know that and he would have been a great a father to you. It didn't happen so it almost doesn't matter but he wants you now.”

Ahsoka gripped tight onto both of her hands and leaned in until their eyes locked. Leia almost couldn't breathe from the emotion that shone back at her through Ahsoka's eyes and her own damned emotions clogging her throat.

“Don't give up on Anakin Skywalker because I promise he will never give up on you.”

#star wars #sw fanfiction #fanfiction #leia organa #ahsoka tano #mine

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