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sinner-as-saint · 3 years

Text

The Unseen.

Hades!Bucky x Reader AU

Run-through: Your father is forcing a profitable marriage proposal upon you. Unwilling to endure such a thing, you run away from home and deep into some unknown woods. Naturally, your father sends his people to find you and bring you home, but this causes you to run deeper into the woods to a point where it feels like you’re not even in the same world anymore. Though fatigued; mentally, emotionally and physically, you manage to find shelter. You stumble upon a mysterious, handsome stranger. The God of the Underworld is baffled upon seeing you because it has been millennia since a mortal entered his dark, forlorn kingdom. And it’s been even longer since he felt something for someone…

Themes: hades!bucky, fluff, angst, smut,

You staggered through the woods.

Holding on to whatever you could find to help you keep your balance, and not fall flat on your face. You had been on the run for days now; running from your tyrant father and his people, running from a marriage proposal which was being forced upon you, running from the only place you called home. You wondered, was it really home?

You were currently deep into the woods. Famished, dehydrated, sleep deprived, your body covered in small cuts, bruises, insect bites and scratches. Your clothes were soiled. You could barely hold yourself up, but you had to get as far away as possible.

This part of the woods was so dense that the sunlight barely got through. There was more fog around you than sunlight. Actually, you could no longer tell what time it was. Perhaps it was not daytime.

Your throat burned, your tears had dried, your stomach rumbled in hunger; you were miserable. Your heart hurt at the thought of your mother; you had to leave her behind as well. You missed her, terribly.

You walked on, and a while later you felt the ground beneath your feet get more soft and damp. Your senses were alert. There must be a water body close by, you thought. You rushed forward, and let out a raspy sigh of relief when you saw the cool, slow-moving river which snaked around the large trees. You could just tell by the sight of it that it’s water must be ice cold. The thick fog condensed and danced above it. It looked mystical. Too good to be true.

You rushed to the river, kneeling by the side of it and picking up handfuls of water and drinking to satiate your thirst. You cleaned yourself as best you could - getting rid of all the dirt and muck from your face, and limbs and clothes.

You felt at ease for the first time in the past days. You got up and sat back down at the river bank for a while, feeling light and almost comfortable even though you were all alone inside a dense and cold, and dark forest. You chuckled at how much safer you felt here compared to back at your father’s house.

A minute later, you tensed up when you heard distant animal sounds. You panicked and took off running; deeper into the woods. You found yourself running alongside the river. You didn’t have a plan, you didn’t know where you were headed, but you knew you had to keep going. You couldn’t have your father finding you again and dragging you back home to marry whoever he chose for you just so he could profit off of it and expand his businesses; you refused to be a pawn in his games

You ran, stumbled, fell and stood up again. For hours. And just when you felt like you were about to pass out from fatigue again, you noticed a gate in front of you. It looked rusty and old, with dead vine all over it, surrounded in fog. You couldn’t see past it but something told you that once you’d get past it, everything would be alright.

So you did. You pushed open the gate and stepped into what seemed to be a poorly kept, dying garden. Though disorganized, and unkept; it felt almost familiar. It felt like coming home. You looked further and saw what seemed like an abandoned, dark manor, almost as grand as a castle. The whole thing looked like an old, forgotten private property.

“Help…” you called out with the little energy you had left. You doubted anyone lived here, but you called out anyways, just in case. “Help!” you called out again, falling to your knees on the rough ground.

And right before passing out, you heard something getting closer and closer. It sounded like it was galloping… several of them. Horses? In here?

Your eyes rolled back as you could no longer hold yourself up. You saw something approach you. Your blurry vision picked up on a tall, dark figure approaching. Whatever that was, it caught you right before your body fell to the ground.

It was a man. Even in your insensible state, you could feel the dominant, strong, virile aura surrounding him.

His low voice was the last thing you heard before you gave in to the darkness, “...I’ve got you, my love. You’re home now...”��

---

The god stood at the entry of the spacious bedroom, in the middle of which was a large bed, upon which you laid; comfortable, but still unconscious.

Hands stuffed in his pockets as he leaned against the doorframe, he contemplated. Everything. He doesn’t remember the last time he had something so beautiful, and alive, inside the walls of his dark and dangerous kingdom.

He wondered where you come from. Who were you running from? Why did you cry for help? How did you find the Underworld? The moment he saw you first entering his kingdom, he thought that you might be a lost, wandering soul. But then when his hands touched you, he felt your warmth and realized that you were very much alive.

If you had made it through the entire woods to get here then you must be stronger and more courageous than you look, he thought.

He stepped closer so he could hear your soft breaths. So full of life… he thought. Whatever it was that you were running from, he made a decision to protect you from it. He felt the urge to wrap his arms around you and shelter you, keep you safe forever. Why so? He didn’t know. He had never been so attached to mortals before. He barely even met any of them.

But you… you walked right into his kingdom, and now you were making him feel things he had never felt before.

The god had always been alone. He never quite had company, and he stayed as far away as possible from his dysfunctional family. So having you here was new, but also something he didn’t know he needed so badly.

“Who are you, pretty human?” he whispered as he lovingly caressed your cheek while you slept. He had healed all your cuts and bruises the moment he picked you up in his arms, and placed you in his chariot. Now he was just waiting for you to wake up so he could talk to you.

He couldn’t wait to meet you.

---

You woke up to loud, warm puffs of air fanning your face. You peeled your eyes open, expecting a headache but there wasn’t one, what you did find though was a fairly large, mean and dangerous looking three-headed dog with shiny black fur standing beside you, on the bed, looking down at you with tongues hanging out of each of its mouths and wagging its tail so hard that its body moved side to side along with it in excitement.

Your eyes widened even in the slightly hazy headspace, you almost took off running again but your body refused to get up from the comfy bed and then you saw the playful look in all three pairs of eyes and you immediately calmed down.

“Hello there...” You whispered as you squinted and reached out to pet it. You gave it soft scratches behind the ears and under the chins and it immediately tackled you with wet kisses. You squealed and chuckled as you sat up, trying to escape the adorable monster.

Maybe you had died? You thought to yourself as you kept petting the dog once it calmed down. Perhaps you were in some sort of after life, hallucinating about a three-headed while wearing a very vintage-y black gown with long, puffy sleeves; and sat in the middle of the softest bed ever inside what seemed to be a chamber fit for a Queen.

“Am I dead?” You asked the three-headed animal. It didn’t answer, obviously so you tried to dig your memory to find something which would explain how you ended up where you are right now. All three heads laid on your lap, as you lazily pet them while thinking; you remembered running… deep, deep into the forest… you remember being tired, so tired you felt like you were about to pass out… wait you did pass out! In the garden. The dark garden, with the horses and the tall man.

You gasped as you heard a voice, not far from you, answering your previously asked question. “No you’re not. Surprisingly.”

Upon hearing the voice, the dog got up from the bed and immediately ran to the man who had just spoken. You got up from the bed too confused and nervous, standing and watching him cautiously as you took in the man’s appearance. Your heart raced the more he stared into your eyes with his deep, stormy ocean blue ones.

He could easily be classified as one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. Tall, dark and dangerous; dark hair, dark suit, dark shoes, dark rings on his fingers. He looked like dominance and power personified. A rugged, intimidating alpha male with sophisticated charm. Icy eyes with a fiery look in them.

He looked like a god.

When you finally got over the beautiful man, you realized what he had just said. “What do you mean, surprisingly?” you were aware that this was the same man who had answered to your cry for help earlier so you were trying your best to be polite.

The sound of your voice made his cold, frozen heart race. “You’re not dead. Just in the realm of it.” He spoke, confusing you even more. “You’re in the Underworld. My Kingdom.”

You frowned, thinking hard on what he had just said. Wait a minute… you looked down and saw the three-headed dog sitting obediently at his feet, very much well-behaved. You looked back up at the handsome stranger and stuttered while getting your words out. “You can’t… you can’t be real.” This wasn’t a dream?

He flashed you a lovely smile. “Really? Why not?”

You looked around, panicking again. This can’t be real. This can’t be real. This can’t be real. “Because you’re a myth. You… you don’t exist. You’re not supposed to.”

He almost chuckled. “And yet, here I am. Forgotten by most mortals, yes. But still very much real.” He took small steps forward as he spoke. You found his voice to be calming, soothing.

“Hades?” you couldn’t believe it. You had heard stories about him at school, read about him in books but never in a million years would you have even for a moment considered that he could be real.

“The one and only.” He answered, looking down at his feet to find his beloved dog looking up at him. “You’ve met Cerberus already.”

Hades. God of the Underworld. That sitting at his feet was the Guardian, the ultimate Hellhound. How can this be real life? Anyone else would’ve freaked out upon finding all this out, but you remained surprisingly calm. “You look… I mean, aren’t you supposed to be… you know-,”

He finished your sentence with an amused look on his face. “Bearded? Crowned? Carrying a pitchfork? Riding in a chariot?”

You nodded.

“Well, you mortals aren’t the only ones who evolve every now and then. Us gods, although more or less forgotten, have to keep up as well, don’t we?”

You smiled faintly but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

You were still a little anxious, and you fidgeted with your fingers. He noticed and walked up to you. Without a word said, he reached out and gently held both your hands in his large ones. He spoke up again, “I know you’re a little nervous. I expect you to be, given the circumstances but I assure you, you’re safe here.” He said, softly.

You looked deep into his icy, sharp eyes which despite their intensity managed to provide you with a sense of comfort; effortlessly. Who would’ve known that the God of the Underworld could be so gentle?

“Thank you for helping me.” Your voice was barely above a whisper but he heard it alright given he was so close to you. He squeezed your hands a little, as if to say ‘You’re welcome.’ Your hands fit in his perfectly, you noticed. He stood just a feet away from you and you could feel the power radiating off of him.

He smiled gently. “If I may ask, how did you end up so deep into the woods that you stumbled upon my Kingdom? What are you running from?” He wanted to figure this out since the moment he saw you.

“My father.”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Why is that?”

“He wanted to marry me off to a business associate's son so he can profit off the alliance and expand his own businesses. I refused, repeatedly. But then I found out that he was planning to forcefully fly me out somewhere, to marry the same guy. So I took off. I ran from home, and didn't tell anyone where I was going.” You exhaled shakily. “And now I’m here.”

He nodded, slowly and calmly as he hid his utter disgust at the mention of you almost becoming someone else’s wife.

He noticed how you started tearing up while speaking of your cruel father, so he simply pulled you closer and tucked your head under his chin while running a soothing hand down your back. His arms wrapped around you in a safe embrace. You felt the cool material of his suit against your flushed face as he held you close. He smelt amazing. You wrapped your own arms around him, feeling his taut body beneath the material of his suit.

You hadn’t been hugged in a long time, so you started tearing up even more, until you began letting out little sobs. He tightened his grip around you, pressing you against his muscular torso. “Shh, my angel. It’s alright. I’m here now. You’re safe.”

You held back a sob, your voice cracking as you spoke, “But if… if he finds me, he will…”

The god pulled away a little, his hand reaching up to gently cup your face and tilt it back so he could look into your teary eyes. “He won’t find you here. I will keep you safe, don’t worry.” He wiped the fresh tears which escaped your eyes.

You were once again lost in his eyes, just now noticing the flares of grey in them. You were both caught in the moment, when you heard a low whine. It was the adorable monster who had managed to get in between your bodies. You looked down and cracked a little smile.

“Of course, Cerberus will keep you safe too.”

---

You and the god had quite a long conversation leading up to dinner. A conversation often interrupted by a certain three-headed dog’s constant need for attention from either one of you.

You learnt a lot about the one whose Kingdom you were in. You found out that he’s been here forever. Despite being dark, cold and barren you could tell he loved his realm more than anything.

You had to ask him about Persephone and he had you surprised when he told you that unfortunately their relationship didn’t last long and that she left him for good shortly after they got married.

You also found out that those closest to him call him ‘Bucky.’ And that his one true friend has always been the hell-hound and guardian of the Underworld, who also was currently asleep at your feet.

“Doesn’t it get lonely?” you asked, watching him from across the grand dinner table.

He took a sip of his wine, never breaking eye contact with you. “Not anymore.” he answered and you melted.

Over dinner, you spoke some more. Then he noticed you got all quiet. Damn it, he cursed. This was the moment he had been dreading all day.

“You miss your home.” He wasn’t asking, simply stating. He noticed how you pushed your food around on your plate. You weren’t as curious to know about his kingdom anymore, you weren’t chatty; just quiet all of a sudden. He missed the sound of your voice.

Home… “Not home, no. Just my mother. Sometimes I feel like she’s the only parent who’s ever truly loved me.”

He could feel the pain in your voice. But some of the rules of the Underworld were such that even he couldn’t bend them. “You know I cannot let you leave.”

You had that bit figured out the moment you found out who he was. “I know.”

He was surprised by how calm you were. “You… don’t ardently wish to go back home?”

You looked up from your plate and at his handsome face. “Going home would mean that I’d have to face my father. Now that I’ve been gone for so long, upon seeing me he’d either obliterate me or drag me down the aisle and marry me off against my will. I prefer none of those things. As for my mom, I do miss her but she’ll survive. She’s a strong woman.”

The god listened, leaning back in his seat; very much at ease in your company. “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“What do you want?”

You cracked a little smile. Or perhaps it was a smirk. You mimicked his body language, leaning back in your seat as well. You twirled the wine around in your glass. “For now, I want to be away from my family. I feel safe here. I don’t want to leave.”

He found himself wanting that as well.

---

You woke up the next morning to a sight which made you chuckle. No, it wasn’t an overly excited Cerberus. It was breakfast, along with a generous serving of pomegranates.

You ate it all up. Then set out to find the god after you got dressed and ready for the day. Somehow, everything one could need could be found in the large closets found in the room you slept in. You had only been here for a little while but you settled in just right.

You walked along a shadowy corridor. Bucky had given you a tour yesterday, hence you knew that this path led to the throne room. And that’s where he was; manspreading on his throne, wine glass in one of his hands while the other lazily stroked his beloved three-headed guardian; who sat by the feet of his master and wagged his tail as soon as you came in sight.

“Your Majesty.” You spoke, walking further into the room and stopping at the stairs which led to his throne.

He smiled as he watched you standing there, dressed in a dark grey dress. Similar to the one you wore yesterday, just a different color. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You looked down at the dress, smoothing the soft fabric down as you spoke. “Also thank you for breakfast.”

He caught the smirk you had on your face. He knew the reason behind it. “I assure you I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

You took the liberty of walking up the stairs which led to his throne. “I didn’t say anything.” You whispered with a smirk and reached down to greet Cerberus. “So what do you do all day?”

He took a sip of his wine, watching you as you knelt to the ground beside him and gave the dog endless pets. “I’m a god.” He sounded cocky. “That’s plenty of work already.”

When you looked up at him and smirked, he could’ve sworn he felt tingles dance down his spine. There you were, a beautiful woman happily sharing space with him inside his dark kingdom like it was no big deal, with no intention of leaving anytime soon because you said it yourself that being here made you feel safe.

The more he looked at you, the more he saw the light radiating off you. The light he so desperately needed. The light which balanced out the darkness he carried with him. The light which showed him glimpses of possible futures with you, if you’d be willing. The god was content in your company. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt the need to protect something so fiercely.

“Come with me.” He stood up and set his glass aside, holding his hand out for you to take.

You took it and he helped you up. “Where are we going?” you asked, as he led you down the stairs and into the corridor again.

“There’s so much for you to see. My kingdom isn’t just full of darkness and death. There’s beauty here too, of course, none quite like your own but close.” He spoke as he led you somewhere, holding your hand carefully in his as though it were made of glass and would shatter if he let it go.

You rolled your eyes at his comment, pretending as if it didn’t make you all flustered. “Is it now?”

The god led you all the way to the place he was most fond of in his entire kingdom, other than his beloved throne. It was a vast garden, fit to be the backyard of a castle. There were more kinds of plants and flowers than you could count. Cobblestone walkways leading to what seemed to be a pond in the middle, surrounded by stones and moss.

The dark red roses caught your attention rather quickly. You reached out to touch the soft petals and you felt Bucky’s presence behind you. He was so close that you could feel his warm breaths against your skin.

“It’s so pretty.” You whispered.

He reached around you and plucked one of them, handing it to you. “Just like you.” He mumbled and you gave him a genuine smile as you accepted the gorgeous flower. Dark red, like blood and sin.

Amongst the numerous plants, trees and shrubs you managed to spot the one growing pomegranates. You cracked a little smile. Even though the garden was partly shadowy and foggy; the rays of sun which came through were golden and gentle. As you looked around, you spotted a yellowish weeping willow tree and walked towards it, the god followed you.

“You’re the first one to ever step in here, you know that?” he said while thinking about all the times he spent hours in here wondering if one day fate would ever allow him to find someone he could share the joy of being here with.

You reached out to touch the dangling leaves and looked back at him. “Well thank you for the privilege, Your Majesty.” You teased.

You walked a few steps forwards, standing under the willow tree and admiring his secret garden when you felt his arm snaking around your waist as he placed his chin on your shoulder.

Neither of you said anything. He was more than happy to have you here, he had been lonely for way too long. You said to yourself, ‘this isn’t so bad.’

He had told you about the rules of the Underworld before, you knew you couldn’t leave. You didn’t want to either. Sure, you missed your mom a lot. But going back out there would mean having to live in constant fear of what if your dad finds you. And what would he do if he does?

Being here meant that you’d be safe and wouldn’t have to worry about anyone catching you. You didn’t fear anything here. It was quiet and the handsome god was great company. You felt all warm and tingly as he held you close, yet it felt comfortable and natural - like you were meant to be here with him, as if you had known him all your life.

As of now, neither of you knew where this mutual attraction would go, or what it would end up being. But at the moment, just having the other one there was enough. He gave you the safety you had been searching for all your life and you provided him the warmth and light he had craved for millennia.

---

Days in the Underworld were surprisingly peaceful; filled with surprises, visits to the garden, learning more about the god and finding out why he stayed as far away from his family as possible, wandering his kingdom all day, reading… time just flew by. And before you knew it, you had lived in the Underworld for months.

Your bond with Bucky morphed into something more affectionate and sweet. Lingering touches and longing stares turned into deep, passionate kisses and always having to sleep in the same bed because otherwise nothing made sense. It wasn’t just love, it was tender adoration. It was warm, and light and safe.

You hadn’t been intimate yet, but the sparks flew around whenever your hands touched at night, or when your eyes met from across the table at dinner. You were both holding back from taking it a step further. It wasn’t like he wasn’t dying to have you in his bed, or that whenever he kissed you good morning you didn’t feel the need to get on top of him and ride him until the sun came up the next day - but you were both waiting for a sign from the other and it was driving both of you insane.

It got really, really heated one time. Bucky was on his throne, with you in his lap. His hands slipped under your dress and lazily caressed your thighs while he kissed the hell out of you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, while you gasped and moaned through the kiss.

But just then Cerberus barged in, barking and jumping around with nothing but chaos on his mind. Bucky let out a loud sigh while you hid your face into his neck and giggled. It was those moments which made you love the place all the more. Not just the place, but the god as well.

Winter came and when the weather was the coldest, and you spent all your time indoors is when the memories of your mother started tormenting you. She used to spend all her time baking in the winter, so you asked Bucky if you could too. He, of course, let you have anything you wanted whenever you wanted so naturally he let you.

You tried so hard to keep yourself busy and happy but you couldn’t help but miss your mom. Bucky noticed it. And it broke him. He gave you everything one could ever need. You had everything here, and yet he could see how your eyes weren’t so shiny and curious or filled with magic and light anymore. You were dimmer than when you first came here.

He began seeing you wandering around his home a lot less as you spent all your time either in bed or standing on one of the balconies, staring out at the woods longingly. No amount of books, or poetry or visits to the garden or your favorite food or kisses from Cerberus made you happy any longer. And Bucky’s worst fear was materializing in front of his eyes.

You were no longer happy in the Underworld it seemed.

One night, he found you curled up in bed earlier than usual. He stood at the door and watched you. You weren’t crying, you were just sad. He walked into the room and called out, “Angel, are you okay?”

You sat up immediately, not wanting him to see you like this but at the same time you couldn’t fake being happy either. So you gave him a faint smile. “Yes, just a headache. I’ll be fine by morning.”

He smiled faintly. His heart breaking at the sight of the sadness in your eyes. “Come with me, I have something to show you.”

You got out of the bed and took his hand. He led you to one of the libraries he had; the coziest one with the huge fireplace and the perfect window which allowed you to see the breathtaking view of the gentle snowfall.

You stepped further into the room and saw that he had the fire going already and the room was much warmer than anywhere else in his castle. You walked right over to the large window, pressing your palm against it as you watched the light snowfall; clean, dazzling white and calming. Your headache faded little by little.

You felt a soft, warm blanket being placed upon your shoulders and you immediately wrapped it around you. Turning your head to the side you found Bucky right behind you. He kissed the top of your head and wrapped his arms around you.

“Feeling better?” He asked and you nodded.

“Much better.”

You stood there, basking in the comfortable silence and the warmth of the room, just watching the snowfall and how it accumulated on the ground; a fresh, thick blanket of ice.

“You miss her.” Again, it wasn’t a question from him, just a statement.

“Who?” You pretended not to understand.

He kissed your cheek and whispered, “Your mother. Your home. You want to go back, don’t you?” He sounded almost heartbroken and bitter.

You remained quiet. You didn’t say anything. No… ?

He spoke up again. “Even if I let you go, you will never be willing to come back here. To me.” He pulled away from the hug and walked over to the fireplace, shifting the burning wood with a brass fire poker. “Why would you?” He sounded pensive. “Why would you come back to this dark, barren kingdom when you can be perfectly happy out there? You must feel like you’re being held captive here.”

He didn’t turn around to face you so he couldn’t see the silent tear which fell down your cheek. So he thought that if given the chance you would run away from here and never come back to him again? Did the past months mean nothing? Did he not see that he was all you wanted?

Your throat burned.

“Is that what you think of me?” The crack in your voice caught his attention. He turned around to face you with a worried look on his face. He couldn’t believe he made you cry. You weren’t sobbing, but you couldn’t contain the tears. “You really think I’m gonna be happy out there, without you?”

That broke him.

“Angel… I didn’t mean to…,” it was rare for the god to find himself at a loss of words but now he did.

You wiped your tears away. “Did you even notice that I haven’t cried in months? Not since I met you because you make me the happiest I’ve ever been. This dark, barren kingdom you speak of feels more like home to me than when I lived with my family.”

He walked up to you and pulled you into his arms. “Baby… I’m sorry.”

You hugged him back. “I don’t feel like I’m being held captive. I don’t want to leave you. But I can’t help but miss my mom. I don’t want you to think I’m not happy with you anymore, I am. But I… It’s… I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry.” He said, pulling away to look down into your eyes. “I need you here, with me. The thought of you leaving me forever and never seeing you again, it… it kills me.”

You held him by the back of his neck and pulled him closer. “I’m not leaving.” You gave him a sweet kiss. “I love you.” You kissed him again and sensed his surprise as he kissed you back feverishly. You whined when his mouth left yours only to kiss down your neck, nibbling on your skin and leaving dark red marks behind.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” He mumbled as he kissed along your throat, walking the two of you back until he plopped down on the soft, velvety couch with you on his lap. You looked at him with nothing but hunger in your eyes. He looked at you and smirked; burning desire, lust and sin in his icy blue eyes.

“Likewise.” you whispered.

His hands grabbed you at your butt, firmly as he pressed you further into him. You could feel him; big and hard under you. You moved your hips against him, grinding on him out of desperation and whining in need.

He chuckled against your lips. “You’ve had me by my heart ever since you walked into my life.” He spoke as he cupped your face gently. “I never knew I could feel so deeply for someone until I met you.”

You stared into his eyes, your heart overflowing with all that you felt for him and your body burning with desire at the same time. So much so that you could no longer sit still on his lap. You needed him so bad it almost hurt.

You leaned into his touch. “I feel the same way.” You leaned closer, gently caressing the back of his neck. “Falling for you was so easy.” You felt his body tense under you.

He groaned. “Come here…” he pulled your face closer and pressed his lips to yours immediately, kissing you passionately and making your body tingle; biting your lip before shoving his tongue past your lips and kissing you like he’s famished and you’re the only thing which can satiate his profound hunger.

Next thing you knew, he pushed you down onto the couch and hovered above you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. You moaned and whimpered, body squirming under his. You needed him, terribly.

Bucky’s mouth left your lips as he kissed his way down your body, undressing you in the process. Your long, flowy dress found itself on the floor as he settled himself in between your legs. His handsome face just inches away from your dripping core.

He looked hungry, and feral – a man who wanted to do bad things to you, and you were more than happy to let him do whatever he wanted. “You’re mine.” He growled before he leaned in and kissed your wet folds, his tongue slowly circling around your throbbing clit and licking down, parting your wet folds with ease.

Your body felt hotter and lighter as a pressing need to release formed deep inside you as you felt his tongue stroked your most sensitive parts. “So fucking sweet…” he looked up at you and found you with your eyes shut, head thrown back in pleasure. “Look at me.” He ordered and the authority in his voice made you tremble.

You opened your eyes and supported your upper body up with your elbows digging into the couch and you took in the sight of him in between your legs. His strong arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you in place and close to him. He maintained eye contact as he licked in between your wet folds again, making you whine as he teased you. His touch was deliberately slow, pleasurably agonizing.

“Please…” you cried out, whimpering and begging him to take you already.

Your hand flew to his hair and you tugged on it gently as he flicked his tongue over your clit over and over again. His stormy blue eyes watched how you lost control under his touch; legs shaking as he teased your entrance with the tip of his tongue. His hands wrapped around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, making you cry out loud until you came undone.

He kissed his way up your body again, then lifted off you for just a moment to get rid of his clothes. Once done, he was hovering over your naked body again.

“If it were up to me, I’d keep you here…” he leaned in to kiss you on the lips, “just like this, forever.” He loved the sight of you; naked, hot and squirming under him. He desperately wanted to keep you there forever and never let you go.

You giggled. “Fiend.”

He smiled as he looked down at you. “Where have you been all this time?” He leaned in to kiss you again as his hands touched you wherever he could; letting his hands linger at your breasts and taking his sweet time; caressing and kissing your skin.

His hands slipped in between your legs with ease; caressing your inner thighs as he went. You moaned into the kiss; his touch was slow, and gentle and enticing but also fiery - much like himself.

You whimpered and squirmed under him, and he smirked through the kiss as he pushed his erected cock past your tight entrance, pulling your legs up to wrap them around his waist. You moaned out loud as he pushed into you, your back arching off the surface of the couch. He grunted once he filled you up entirely, giving you a couple of seconds to adjust.

He grabbed both your hands, laced your fingers together with his and pinned your interlaced hands down above your head. He stared into your eyes, lips parted as he struggled to fit inside you. He had always wondered how he would feel inside you. How warm and how tight and snug you’d feel… but you felt better than he imagined.

You threw your head back, moaning. You were so full of him that even you couldn’t even form a proper thought. His lips found yours again, trying to get you to stay quiet while he rolled his hips against yours. He pulled out and pushed himself back into you, and watched in awe how you struggled to fit him inside of you.

“Come on, take all of me…” He mumbled breathlessly as he pushed deeper into you. You heard him gasp and swear under his breath as he rocked into you. Your nails sank into his skin, around his shoulders; which you held on to as he pounded into you.

He bit your lips, kissed your open mouth, and shoved his tongue past your lips while he rammed into you; and you never once complained. He stretched you out completely. And it did hurt, but the pleasure compensated for the pain. Your legs trembled around his waist, he thrust deeper into you; fucking you like only a god could.

Your back arched off the couch as you felt a familiar warmth washing over you. Bucky growled and bit down on your shoulder to keep himself from being too loud while he fucked you. He was relentless. The sound of his moans and grunts sent tingles dancing down your spine and you were sure that his bite left a mark.

Bucky’s hand found its way to your front and he pressed the palm of his hand against your lower abdomen. He liked the rush of excitement which coursed through him each time he felt his cock deep within you. His hand travelled all the way to your neck and he gently squeezed the side of your throat. Hard enough to make you lose your mind while he kept pounding into you incessantly.

“Fuck…” you heard a barely audible moan leave his lips as he rammed his cock in and out of you incessantly.

You felt him quicken his pace. You tightened around him, and he groaned, pounding into you; growling and mumbling swear words under his breath. You felt the pressure in between your hips grow until you couldn’t hold back anymore.

His other hand toyed with your folds; his fingers furiously rubbed the skin around your clit and made you tremble and whimper again. You moaned, craving more and more of him. With a few more strokes of his thick cock, you felt his thrust becoming irregular, and felt his cock throb against your walls. You tightened around him, feeling the burning hot need to cum grow hotter and hotter inside you until it exploded.

You came with a loud moan, gushing all around him. Bucky came right after you; buried deep within you – growling under his breath. His warm cum shot at your walls and trickled out of you when he carefully removed his length from your entrance. You were a whimpering mess. And so was he.

He collapsed next to you. You were shaking just a little as he tucked your head under his chin and ran his soothing hand down your back; while kissing the side of your head.

“I love you too, angel.”

---

Bucky agreed on letting you go for a few days, so you could meet your mom. But he had one condition:

“My mom will freak out!” you exclaimed.

Bucky shook his head. “Mortals can’t see him as the guardian of the Underworld. Your mother will see him as just a regular dog.”

“Then how can I?”

“You’re special.” He walked over to you and pulled you into his arms, kissing your forehead. “You were meant to be here. To be mine.”

“Are you sure about this?” You bent down to give the excited three-headed little monster scratches.

“Absolutely.” He was sending Cerberus along with you for your safety.

You smiled at the dog and looked up at it’s master. “Alright then. When do I leave? And how?”

The god smiled. “Right now. I’ll take you.”

You smirked. “You know we can’t show up in a chariot being drawn by horses, right?”

He chuckled. “Trust me, angel. Come on, take my hand.”

You did. And the next thing you knew, all three of you were surrounded by black fog, and less than a few seconds later, you found yourself standing at the entrance of a beautiful, gated home you didn’t recognize. You looked beside you and there stood your beloved god and his trustee guardian. You realized it was night time.

“Where are we?” you looked around, not recognizing the neighborhood.

Bucky grabbed your hand in his and Cerberus’ leash in another. “Your mom’s place.” He led you to the front door and rang the bell. You were confused, but too excited to see your mom to ask any further questions.

Needless to say, your reunion with your mother was filled with tears and teary smiles and hugs. She then told you that her and your dad were no longer together and that this was her home now. She didn’t know where your dad was, and neither did she want to.

“Oh honey, who is this handsome young man?” Your mother asked, once she realized that Bucky was there too.

You went along with the story you and him had concocted before leaving the Underworld. You told your mother that Bucky was your long term boyfriend and that you ran away to him because you were in love with him and couldn’t agree to marry someone else.

“I’m gonna be away on a business trip for a couple of weeks, so I thought why not leave Y/N with you until I return. After all, she’s been wanting to see you.” Bucky spoke to your mom politely and won her over within a few minutes. The god was indeed very charming.

After leaving Cerberus in your care, Bucky parted from you at the doorstep with a long, deep kiss. “I’ll be back for you, angel. Miss me.”

You smiled, kissing him back. “I will wait. I love you.”

“I love you more. Take care.” he kissed your forehead, and left.

Leaving you behind to your mother whom you had missed, but who also had a thousand questions for you. You answered all of them, lied at most.

---

The first week went by almost too quickly. Mother-daughter quality time, gossip and all. Cerberus was a sweetheart and each morning when you woke up and saw him in the kitchen keeping your mom company, you’d freak out for a moment or two. Then you’d eventually remember that she couldn’t see him for what he truly is and you’d calm down.

By week two, the jittery feeling of being back with your mom had died down. Not that you didn’t enjoy spending time with her, but the fear of your father finding you caught you off-guard often.

It was someday during the third week of you being back with your mom that your fears hit you hard. You had a terrible nightmare where your dad was back and was trying to take you away again. It was spine-chilling to a point where even Cerberus picked up on it.

You woke up to him whining and licking your face. You sighed in relief upon seeing his heads looking down at you in worry and confusion.

“I’m okay,” you gave him some pets and he immediately curled up on the bed beside you. You snuggled beside him, caressing his fur which looked shiny thanks to the moonlight coming in through the window. “You miss your daddy, don’t you?” You saw his multiple ears perk up at that. You giggled. “I miss him too.” You give his paw a kiss.

“Well good thing daddy’s here.” You heard his voice coming from the dark shadow of your room. Cerberus jumped out of bed and was surprisingly quiet as he greeted his master with much excitement. “Hello,” Bucky greeted him, “how about you go home now? I know you’ve missed it.” One last scratch behind the ears and a snap of Bucky’s fingers later, Cerberus disappeared into black fog.

You sat up in the middle of your queen-sized bed and leaned over to light the soft, golden lamp shade by the side of your bed. You blinked in confusion. “Bucky?” You were pleasantly surprised. The soft golden light made him look almost angelic despite his signature, all black outfit.

He gave you his signature cocky smirk. “Were you expecting someone else at this odd hour, angel?”

You rushed out of bed and right into his arms. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close and he kissed your hair. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too baby. You have no idea.” He pulled away and cupped your face so he could get a good look at you. He leaned down to kiss your lips, deeply. You felt warm all of a sudden.

You smiled through the kiss before pulling away, asking in a hushed tone, “How come you’re here at this time?”

“I sensed that something was wrong. You were having a nightmare, weren’t you?”

You nodded. “But I’m okay now.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

You rubbed your nose against his. “Doesn’t matter, you’re here now.”

He grabbed your face and kissed you again; down your neck and along your shoulder. His stubble tickled your skin and you giggled as quietly as you could. You felt his hands caress your skin under your shirt, inching closer and closer to your breasts while he walked you back and eventually pushed you down onto your bed.

Your body tingled and burned under his warm touch, and there was nothing you wanted more than to have him buried deep in you. Ever since that first night together, you craved him almost all the time. After all, he made love to you like a god.

“Do you know how hard it was, being away from you for so long?” He whispered, sounding gentle, but also demanding and hot.

Suddenly you felt all confident and sassy. “Why don’t you show me then?”

He smirked and grabbed your oversized t-shirt and tossed it over your head and somewhere behind him. The sight of your bare body underneath him made him growl. “Is this how you slept every night? Almost naked?” He whispered in your ear as his hands roamed your body, mainly toying with your breasts. “Did you touch yourself, while thinking of me? Hmm?”

You gasped and moaned just at the sound of his voice, he was barely touching you.

He pressed his mouth to yours again, impatient to just have you already. His mouth didn’t leave yours as his hand slipped in between your legs with ease; caressing your inner thighs as he went. His touch caused a shiver to run down your spine as you moaned through the kiss.

“Shh,” he mumbled against your lips. “Can’t have your mom find out that her daughter is being a dirty, dirty little girl for me now, can we?” He ran his fingers up and down your folds, gathering and smearing your arousal around as he went.

He messed with you for a little bit; stroking your walls with his fingers and making you whine. You whimpered quietly under him as he nuzzled your neck and nibbled on the skin along your throat. “Please…” you pleaded. He chuckled.

“Please what, baby?” he teased you with his fingers, keeping you on the edge.

You whined under your breath. “I need you… please…”

His lips found yours again as the two of you hurried to unbuckle his pants and he pulled it down enough to free his erected cock. He couldn’t wait any longer. “I need you too baby,” he kissed you deeply, “but I’m gonna need you to be quiet for me, okay?”

He pulled away and waited for an answer. You nodded, breathless already.

“Good girl.” He pressed his forehead against yours while he pushed his erected cock past your tight entrance. You moaned under your breath as he did. You whimpered as you felt all of him. His lips found yours again, attempting to get you to stay quiet while he rolled his hips against yours.

“Shh, angel.” He whispered in your ear before pounding into you like his life depended on it. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, something which had become a habit of his, as he groaned under his breath at how your body welcomed him perfectly.

You failed to form proper thoughts as he rammed into you. The sounds he made were downright sinful and you loved it so much; knowing that you had the power to make him lose his mind.

“You’re all mine, you hear me?” He mumbled. “Tell me you’re mine,” he whispered right at the shell of your ear, and you moaned quietly at how he sped up into you.

You did as he asked. You told him again and again that you were his. And no one else’s. You couldn’t imagine loving anyone else.

Bucky held you like you were the most fragile thing ever even while he fucked you like there was no tomorrow. You were a tear-stained, whimpering mess as you came around his thick cock. He came right after you, grunting and groaning under his breath.

“I love you. So much.” He whispered, kissing the side of your face to calm you down.

You smiled, breathless still. “I love you too.”

He stayed with you, in your bed long after you two were done going at it for a second time that night. You snuggled into his side, your hand lazily across his torso. “Are you gonna stay for a little longer? Have breakfast with mom and I?”

He caressed your cheek with his thumb, “Won’t your mother ask how I got here?”

“I’ll tell her that you got here quite early while she was still sleeping.”

He raised his eyebrows at you rather dramatically. “Look at you lying without any shame.”

You giggled and got on top of him, straddling his waist and placed both your palms against his toned chest. “Oh the things I do for love,” You leaned down and kissed his lips with your own swollen ones.

He smiled. “Does your mom like me? As your… boyfriend?” He asked, sounding a little worried and it made you laugh because he was… him - a god, a king, ruler of the Underworld and here he was worrying about if your mom approved of him or not.

You pulled away to look into his eyes. “Yes. She likes you quite a lot actually. Who wouldn’t? You’re perfect.”

He smiled, his heart exploding at your words, as his hands caressed your exposed thighs. “I like her too. We’ll visit her every now and then, don’t worry.” he spoke and then looked around at your bedroom. “I like it here.”

You kissed him again, pouring all your love out into the kiss. You pulled away again, “Also I was thinking maybe we could go back tomorrow.”

He knew perfectly what you meant but he was dying to hear you say it. “Where to, angel?” He reached out and grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips and kissed your knuckles.

You smiled down at him, your heart exploding with just how much love you had for him.

You answered, “Home.”

#hades!bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #marvel au

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white-collar-lawmen-and-conmen · 3 years

Text

Future

A/N: Yikes. I cried several times writing this. I'm very proud of how it turned out - I think it's one of my strongest pieces on the entire blog - but be warned: bring tissues. Also, Mozzie's quote is originally from Abraham Lincoln. Requested by @ladykeqing

Summary: In the wake of Neal's death, a regret haunts you.

Word Count: 1,964

Peter sat you down and told you in his home. Well… just June’s home, now. The way Mozzie had trailed behind him, for once wordless… His face looking ashen… A part of you had known even before Peter asked you to sit down.

“He told me to say he’s sorry,” Peter said, barely more than a whisper that somehow felt deafening to your brain. “And that he loves you more than you know.”

The room was suddenly stifling. It was more than just the emotions in the air, layering over each other into a thick, caustic fog. It was the darkening of shadows that stretched in from the glass doors, and the silence of the record player that drove deep into their eardrums to muffle the little sounds of life coming from each other. The penthouse was, in an instant, so tiny and deathly empty, and you wished so dearly that you’d been at your own apartment. Staying the weekend had seemed like such a great idea before you abruptly became the only resident.

For a few seconds, you had a mind to just stay put and let the shadows come and take over. To let the agonizing ache of loss engulf your entire heart and continue expanding until it was bigger than your body and you disappeared forever. All so you wouldn’t have to keep looking at the records Neal would never again play and the table he would never again sit at. So you would never have to spend a last moment in the home of your lover before turning your back on it and, by extension, him.

Without him, there was nowhere to turn. The prospect of your remaining lifetime without your partner made your chest and throat tighten with another round of sobs. It all felt so dim. You tried to hold it back, but couldn’t last long before your hands were to your mouth and a strangled whimper was breaking from your lips.

Mozzie could have fooled you into thinking he hadn’t heard, so resolute he was in boring a hole into the rug with his stare. Peter looked towards you with deep brown eyes, solicitous and pleading at the same time. He was as stunned as you were – but where you were being crushed under the weight of isolation, at least Peter got to go home to El. You didn’t have anyone to go home to anymore. Hell, without Neal, did you even have a home at all?

You envied Mozzie. Really, you did. His Buddhist leanings might be a comfort to him, able to think of Neal’s absence as temporary, or his spirit as remaining around them in some way or form. But when you tried to imagine you could feel him still there, the encroaching shadows and silent record player and empty bed all drew together at once until you were drowning in the lack. It was as if your haywire senses were punishing you for thinking even for a moment that you could feel your loss as anything less than absolute. He was gone and the world was permanently less wonderful.

A gunshot. Neal hated guns so much. Maybe this was why.

Wait. No. Time didn’t work like that. Right? He couldn’t hate something for a reason that hadn’t happened yet.

Laughter that bordered on hysterical bubbled out of your throat as you anxiously covered your face, waiting for the mania to pass. Laughter was easier than sobs. It physically hurt less. Emotionally it was so much worse. You could feel the concerned eyes on you while you waited until your desperate giggles died, just like your partner.

“I never said,” you said, wresting the words out before cries – or worse, more laughs – forced themselves out instead. You looked down with shame and guilt. His last words to you were almost cruel. Tender in their meaning, but cruel in consequence – he would never know how deeply you cared for him. You hoped he did. Didn’t you show it all the time? But that was different from hearing the words out loud, and now not only were you going on without Neal, but you were going on carrying the burden of knowing you hadn’t been able to offer him the comfort of certainty in knowing he had been loved in life and would be grieved in death. “I never got to tell him I love him.”

The mere look that Peter gave you in response would have broken your heart if it hadn’t already been lying shattered somewhere between your stomach and the floor. It was as if he were imagining for himself not getting to tell Elizabeth how he felt, or worse, imagining how alone or afraid she might feel if she didn’t know there were somebody fighting for her and remembering her every day.

Sobs would come any moment now. Your throat was tighter than a string on a violin, and any minute you’d stop being able to breathe. In, out, you reminded yourself. Keep it together just a moment more. And then another moment after that. You couldn’t break down until you were alone. You didn’t know why you couldn’t break in front of Neal’s family, but didn’t have the energy to question it, either, not when you barely had the energy not to scream and weep into your hands.

“He knew.” Mozzie’s words were quiet but startling and said with all the confidence of Neal himself. “You didn’t have to say it.”

“But he deserved to hear.” Knowing it and hearing it were different games and Neal, for all his faults, deserved to hear it, too. “He deserved to come home. I don’t…” You lost your train of thought. Why were you talking about yourself when you weren’t the one whose brilliant life had been stolen? After a small shake of your head, you sniffed and shakily breathed out. “We had an entire future. And now there’s nothing left.”

You could see it passing in your imagination, all the little milestones that you’d come to anticipate. Content days at home, interspersed with adventures to his favorite places around the world, marked by marriage and birthdays and achievements and anniversaries. You’d never articulated them out loud, never even realized fully that you’d started to await those days, but now you saw them vanishing and you realized not only were you having to grieve for the best man you’d ever known, but you’d also have to grieve for the missed experiences and joys that he had lost, and the shared life that you had to give up on, as well.

Mozzie finally looked up to you and you noticed that his eyes were puffy and red behind his glasses. You didn’t even know someone could cry that silently. “The best thing about the future,” he quoted, slow and weighty, probably to keep his own voice level. “Is that it comes one day at a time.”

The comfort was meaningless to you. One day at a time was worthwhile when it was endless days of love and companionship. When that was gone, it was just day after day of being adrift with nothing to hold onto.

You sniffed again and replied in a surprisingly even voice, “My future is laying in the morgue.”

~Future~

Leaving Y/N was one of the hardest things Mozzie had ever done, and he had a lot of challenges and dubious decisions in his past. Leaving her to wallow and suffer rubbed him in every wrong way possible, except for the one where it meant – at least for now – that she would be safe. He didn’t think, if he stayed, that he would be able to hold back from blurting out the truth. He couldn’t even look at her for fear of spilling. Not once her tears started. He couldn’t watch his friend, and his best friend’s love at that, weep with agony she didn’t need to feel.

Neal begged to differ, though Mozzie knew that it tore his heart in two to hear her voice over the long-distance connection. When Mozzie was sure the suit was out of earshot, and that Y/N and June had both stayed inside, he lifted his phone from his pocket and breathed heavily in the cold December air that seemed to burn his lungs.

“Did you hear all that?” He asked, impressively steady and managing to get his criticism and support across with his tone simultaneously.

He took off his glasses, thankful Neal couldn’t see that he, too, needed to wipe his eyes dry. Alive was good. Alive but far away and unreachable – at least for the foreseeable future – was still painful.

“I did,” Neal confirmed, voice and heart both heavy somewhere at least a thousand miles away. “I wish…” Neal trailed off, and Mozzie wholly believed that he also needed a moment to compose himself. Why either of them bothered pretending not to cry, he didn’t understand, but they had already dedicated themselves to the farce. “She’s safer this way. If she looks for me, we’re all in danger.”

“If you let this go on, she will never forgive you.” Mozzie warned, thinking about the broken look on your face. It had been like watching a dropped plate shatter in slow motion to see the cracks begin to appear before your very spirit seemed to splinter. Then he thought about how desperately you wished Neal knew you loved him, and he thought maybe there was a chance that desperate love would override the anger. He amended, “Or, if she does, it’ll never be the same.”

“I know.” Neal agreed readily but with a quiver to his voice. “I want to come home, but not if it means visiting her grave.”

“The cautious way it is.” Mozzie put his glasses back on his face, bravely shoring up his willpower. “I can’t know where you are, and she can’t know you’re out there.”

“Keep an eye on her for me.”His voice was full of sorrow and longing.

“Of course.” Neal didn’t even need to ask. If there came a time when the Panthers were dealt with and Neal could – well, if not return home, at least be reunited with Y/N somewhere without an extradition treaty, Mozzie would be the first to set it in motion. “Be well, mon frére.”

“You, too, Moz.”

The line went dead.

~Future~

Approximately four thousand miles away, on a windy beach, Neal stood barefoot in the dark, watching the light from the moon reflect off the choppy, shallow surf. The breeze drifted through his hair and bit across his face with the sting of northern weather.

He looked down at the open phone in his hand, fighting every feeling in him to turn it back on and beg Mozzie to take the phone back up to his former penthouse. Or, worse, to turn his whole body around and get on a ferry to the mainland, and fly back to New York as fast as possible to hold you in his arms. The heartbreak in your voice had been almost too much for him to bear. It would have been, if not for his terror of being reckless and selfish and letting you pay the price.

He had known you loved him, and because he loved you so unbelievably much in return, he couldn’t go home. Not yet. He would work on it from afar, where no one knew he was breathing, much less could trace him back to his darling. One day, if he were incredibly lucky, he could come home and you would still have space for him in your heart and mind. For now, he would have to settle on replaying your words in his head.

I love you, too.

Neal hurled the phone out into the ocean.

#white collar #white collar x reader #lawmen and conmen #neal caffrey #neal caffrey x reader #fanfic #fic #oneshot #future #hurt #angst #sad #requested #drama

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anthemxix · 3 years

Note

I had an angsty interesting idea and thought you’d maybe like to hear it (since you’re a fan of Wars and Time bonding)

Time and Warriors get separated from the group and are fighting a big ol’ horde of monsters when Time gets hit hard. Like, he-needs-a-fairy-NOW hard. And Wars knows he can’t protect Time while fighting off all these monsters, he’s horribly outnumbered without him, he needs help, he needs more power-

Then he remembers the Fierce Diety mask.

anon, thank you for thinking of me!! i do adore these two bonding! <3 hope you enjoy this little thing i wrote~ uwu

The realization that this ragtag monster horde was capable of implementing a coordinated battle plan carries myriad unsettling implications, but Warriors puts all that aside for later consideration. Right now, he’s rather more preoccupied with his other realization: he and Time are kind of fucked.

Separated from the other heroes by the latest portal (and maybe that was all part of the enemies’ strategy, too?), Time and Warriors are severely outnumbered, two to two dozen. The only reason they haven't lost already is because they've managed to stay back-to-back, fighting together fluidly, watching each other's blind spots. Everything they're doing is purely defensive, purely reactionary, and their stamina is quickly getting whittled away by endless waves of brutal attacks.

And maybe their draining stamina is why there's a slip-up. Warriors hopes that's why there's a slip-up, because he can't bear the idea that his carelessness caused whatever just happened behind him to make Time shout in agony.

Warriors whirls around just as Time crumples to his knees. He steps in front of the Old Man in time to block the heavy stroke of a darknut's broadsword. The blunt impact forces him back half a foot. He grits his teeth and smashes his shield into the darknut's helmet as it winds up for another strike. Armor rattling, the monster stumbles back, briefly stunned.

Swinging around, Warriors throws out his shield against the thrust of a lizalfos' spear, but both weapon and shield collide instead with a translucent blue wall that materializes between them. Sapphire-colored and diamond-shaped, the sudden barrier surprises Warriors for a second before he remembers a child casting the same spell on battlefields some years ago.

"Can't hold it for long," Time says, voice strained, as he presses one hand against his side. Warriors drops down next to him, ignoring the sounds of baffled and angry monsters pounding on the barrier encasing them, and pulls Time's hand away to reveal a terribly deep gash.

Time coughs, and a trail of blood mars his chin. Cursing, Warriors carelessly rips a swatch from his scarf and stuffs it into the wound in the hopes of slowing the bleeding.

"Give it to me," he blurts before he knows what he's saying. His conscious mind takes a moment to catch up to his mouth, but then he feels it. Beneath the clean, blessed magic that Time exudes beats the pulse of something darker, something that wormed into Warriors’ mind without him even noticing.

Suddenly, Warriors knows with certainty how this fight is going to end. He reaches for Time's satchel without awaiting an answer. The Old Man clamps a surprisingly firm hand onto Warriors' wrist.

"No," he says, the tremble in his voice belying the sternness of his tone. "I won't allow it."

The magic, which feels like frenzy barely contained, wraps more securely around Warriors' heart. He wonders how it leaked into him without his consent, how it made him its pawn before he even considered using the mask.

"It's our only choice." Warriors drapes his other hand on top of Time's. The barrier around them flickers, disappearing for half an instant.

Time retrieves the mask from his bag without looking, like he knows exactly where it is. In the open, the mask's alluring magic is more potent. It feels like chaos masquerading as calm, like a threat camouflaged as salvation.

"I could do it," Time weakly offers, even as more blood beads on his lips, as more color drains from his wan face, as resignation clouds his eye.

When Warriors' fingers graze the mask's smooth wood, a shock runs along his spine, prickles the hair on his arms and the back of his neck. The faded red and blue lines that mirror Time's remind him that dabbling with something this powerful has irreversible consequences. In an odd moment of detached lucidity, Warriors recognizes that after he puts on this mask, his life is never going to be the same.

But as he takes the cursed object, he looks down at Time's weeping gash, poorly plugged by blood-drenched scraps of scarf, and feels at peace with his decision.

"I'll be fine, Sprite," he says. "Just promise me you'll be fine, too."

As Time's spell withers and the blue diamond barrier shatters, Warriors puts on the mask.

He's dropped into an abyss that somehow feels both bottomless and claustrophobic. He can't see or hear or touch any more, can't feel his body or what he's doing; he's confined to his mind, condemned to an inky, oceanic emptiness that is filling up with poisonous magic. The deity's overwhelming presence invades more and more of Warriors' mental space, grappling for control.

And it hurts. It's agonizing, the way the subjugating magic bleeds into his every crevice, sunders him at his seams. Peels him apart layer by layer. Breaks him down to his basest pieces. Divides. Consumes.

Rational thought disappears; his darkness is lit only by instinct now, and his instinct tells him to fight. So Warriors resists. As puny and piteous a creature as he is compared to the deity's wrath, he resists, struggling to retain a foothold in his own mind.

And just as abruptly as this hellish internal fight begins, it ends. Full consciousness slams back into Warriors with merciless force. The world seems like a hazy mess of colors and light that he can't decipher. His body feels foreign, and he can't distinguish, spatially, where he is, what he's doing. He thinks he's standing--no, he's falling--

Warriors tumbles back into something solid. Someone solid, who secures their arms around his middle and lowers him to the ground. Dizzy and muddled, he squints up at the concerned face hovering above him. Twilight. The Rancher's mouth is moving, but the words are distant and incomprehensible.

Simply holding his head up is a strain, and Warriors lets himself go limp in Twilight's arms. Through blurry vision, he can see the signs of a massacre: the decimated remains of all those monsters, strewn around the battlefield. He vaguely registers Twilight's fingers on his neck, checking for a pulse, and Twilight's hands running along his limbs, his torso, feeling for injuries.

There's a swirl of red and pink in his periphery. Legend, not bothering to conceal his concern, appears on one side of him. He's speaking, too, and though the words sound a bit clearer than before, Warriors still doesn't understand. Exhausted, he doesn't worry about it, and lets his eyes slip closed.

Twilight and Legend's conversation drones over his head as comforting white noise, and the Rancher's steady breaths begin to lull him to sleep. Then something tugs at his hand, and he pries his eyes open, annoyed, to see Legend trying to take the mask from him.

Warriors blinks down at the cursed item, surprised to see it still clasped in his fist, his unyielding fingers coiled through the eye holes.

"Let go of this damn thing, Pretty Boy," Legend says when he sees Warriors' eyes are open. The Captain can't decide if Legend's voice is actually quiet or if it still sounds weirdly far away. Regardless, he loosens his hold and watches Legend take the mask, grimace at it with a mix of revulsion and anger, and artlessly toss it out of view.

"Captain?"

Turning his heavy head, Warriors finds Wind kneeling at his other side. His expression is all unrefined concern, the watery eyes and exaggerated compassion of a child. Warriors wants to comfort him, but he can hardly move at the moment. He supposes speaking is out of the question, too.

"Are you okay?" the Sailor asks, taking up Warriors' hand in both his own.

Getting no reply, Wind glances between Twilight and Legend. "Why isn't he saying anything? He's okay, isn't he?"

"I'm sure he's fine," Twilight replies. It's a stilted, rote response that holds little conviction. Warriors thinks that should bother him, but he's too tired to care.

"What about those?" Wind says, nodding towards Warriors.

On reflex, Twilight brushes his fingers against the Captain's cheek, looking sadly at whatever is there. "The magic imprinted on him, but he wasn't changed for long. The marks will fade."

Marks? Warriors tunes out the rest of the conversation, trying to deduce what marks they're referring to--until he pictures the red and blue lines tattooed onto--

Time. Warriors twitches, wanting to sit up, wanting to ask after the Old Man. Legend puts a steadying hand on his shoulder, instructs him not to move. Still, he swivels his head around, trying to squint through the still-indistinct mass of shapes and lights that make up the world beyond his little sphere.

Finally, he sees, past Wind, the rest of their troupe. As Warriors is with Twilight, Time is reclined against Sky, with Four and Wild on either side of him. Hyrule is bent over him, hands aglow with golden healing magic that surges into the dangerous wound on Time's side.

Warriors tries to focus on the Old Man's face, and his eyes finally adjust enough that he can see Time, grim and weary, looking straight back at him. He looks sad, Warriors thinks. Sympathetic. Pitying.

It's off-putting, and Warriors looks away. He closes his eyes again and sinks back into Twilight, deciding for now that he'll pretend this is a nightmare, and soon, he'll wake up somewhere else with his soul and mind intact. Yes, he thinks, he’ll let himself pretend for a little while.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu #lu warriors #warriors #fanfic #anthem answers #anthem writes

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novelconcepts · 3 years

Note

The night Dani sees Peter Quint, a blackout happens during the storm. The officers say that it's not safe to stay there in the middle of a storm and without a way to talk to the police if necessary. Hannah and the kids go to Owen's house. Jamie offers a ride, her little flat, clothes and a bath (since crazy Dani decided to run after Peter during the storm).

There's just one bed prompt. Maybe a small couch or chair.

They listen, which is frankly more than Dani expected when Hannah insisted on calling the police. She suspects it has less to do with the Peter Quint of it all, and more to do with the lightning strike, the cataclysm of rain, an old house plunged into deep black. No phone lines, the officers point out with weary expressions that say they are not certain Peter Quint is truly a danger--but Lord Wingrave is not without a certain amount of authority around these parts, and if any further tragedy should befall his niece and nephew, these men would find themselves overloaded on unpleasant paperwork and worse press.

Bad reasons, Dani thinks with a scowl. They ought to have gone into this field to help people, not scoff at Hannah’s fear and Dani’s unease. They ought to be doing something, not simply waving them off the property for the night. It’s listening, sort of, but it isn’t hearing.

She glances at Jamie as the officers speak--directly, she notes, to Owen, as though as the only man among them, he has defaulted to de facto lord of the manor. He looks uncomfortable, rubbing a hand through wet hair; Dani remembers him saying, I was born in Bly, wonders if he went to school with either of the men in slick uniform.

Jamie doesn’t look uncomfortable. Jamie looks angry. There’s a fire burning in her Dani suspects never entirely went out after this afternoon’s rose debacle, one that might have been tempered if they’d been able to track Quint down outside. But he’s in the wind, the product of long legs and a better awareness of the terrain. Dani, giving chase into a fresh downpour before she could think better of her choices, is still itching at the memory of his long coat vanishing into the dark.

She’d run into Jamie, instead--full-force, a bone-rattling collision that had sent them both tumbling into the sopping grass. It might have been funny, if not for the echo of Quint’s footfalls dying away.

“If he’s here?” Jamie asks now. “Quint. If he’s still here? What then?”

The officer in charge gives her a brief look, barely long enough to register detail. “If he’s here,” he says boredly, “all the better that you aren’t.”

Jamie grinds her jaw. She seems barely to be containing herself, resisting the impulse to explain in no uncertain terms that this is their home, this place Quint is intruding upon. Their home--Hannah and the kids and Dani, at least--where Quint would be trailing slimy fingers. The idea of that smirking face going through the bedrooms makes Dani shudder. It seems to press Jamie toward an unwise argument.

Without thinking, Dani reaches out, lays a hand on her shoulder. Jamie’s hair is still dripping, her jacket sodden. Her eyes, catching on Dani’s face, widen a little, her teeth unclenching.

“You have somewhere to go?” the head officer reiterates, glancing back toward the door as though dreaming of a warm car, a comfortable house far from the manor. Owen nods in Hannah’s direction.

“Mum won’t mind. Can have a little sleepover.”

“Yes!” Flora perks up. She’s been uncharacteristically quiet, leaning against Miles’ side, but her whole face switches on like a lantern now. “A sleepover!”

“How’s about it, Miles?” Hannah taps him lightly on the head. “A little evening adventure.”

He looks uncertain, but when she ruffles his hair, a slow smile creeps across his face. Dani’s relieved to see it--she’s started to believe Miles is thirty-five in a ten-year-old frame, the weight of so much loss bearing him down like an anchor. He deserves a little fun.

“And you,” Hannah adds, looking to Dani as if reading her mind. “What do you say to a night off?”

Dani blinks. “Oh, I don’t think that’s necess--”

“Chased a man into the storm,” Hannah interrupts. “Not a decision I’d approve of twice, but it was quite brave. And, forgive me dear, but you look like you could use a proper rest in the aftermath.”

That might be, Dani thinks absently, the nicest way of saying you look like shit I’ve ever heard.

“I’ll just get cleaned up real quick,” she says, “and then I’ll be perfectly fine to--”

Hannah raises a hand. “I insist. Let Owen and I handle them for the evening.”

Dani opens and closes her mouth several times. What’s the alternative? Is Hannah expecting her to stay here? Here, in a house they’re all carefully not admitting feels much bigger in the dark, huddled around the glow of policeman flashlights?

“Can crash at my place,” Jamie says, almost gruffly. “If you don't mind the company.”

Hannah looks unsurprised by this offer. Dani feels a little light-headed at the idea.

“I--I’m all muddy.”

Jamie makes a show of looking down at her own clothes, caked in wet clods of grass, soaked nearly to the skin. She raises her eyebrows in Dani’s direction as if to say, Any more sterling arguments?

Dani has none.

Jamie doesn’t say a word as they load into her truck, Dani trying her best to shrink down to inhabit as limited a space as possible. Her legs ache with the effort of holding her feet aloft, her thighs pressed together to prevent staining the whole seat with grime. Jamie glances in her direction, pulling carefully out onto the road, and Dani could swear she’s trying not to smile.

“Know what I do for a living, don’t you?”

Dani nods. Jamie clears her throat.

“Then should go without saying you’re not the first to track mud into the truck. Relax.”

Embarrassed, Dani does as she’s bid. From the corner of her eye, she sees Jamie’s mouth twitch again--sees Jamie’s hands resting comfortably at ten and two, Jamie’s shoulders slightly rounded as though by holding her posture firm, she can punch a hole through the sheeting rain. She doesn’t seem nervous in the least to be driving through this mess with Dani huddled beside her.

Jamie, Dani is starting to think, doesn’t get nervous.

Well, that makes one of us.

She has nothing to be nervous about, is the thing. Chasing a strange man into a storm, racing after him with nothing but a fire poker and a hot protective impulse--that should have made her nervous. Should have scared the shit out of her. And it hadn’t. She’d felt bizarrely well-equipped for the decisions she was making, at the time. Peter Quint, she’d been certain, should have been the nervous one.

But now, sitting with wet hair and mussed clothes beside a woman she’s held barely three conversations with, Dani feels distinctly out of her element. No kids. No easy warmth of a carefully-sewn-together family opening its arms to let her in. Just a truck, rattling along a slick road on its way to a tiny town she’s never set foot in before.

And a woman with wet curls plastered to her forehead, stealing tiny glances at Dani like she’s not quite sure what to do with her.

“Flat’s small,” Jamie says, as if apologizing, as she parks outside a pub that looks older than any establishment in Dani’s hometown. “Don’t need much. But there are no screamin’ kids.”

Flora and Miles aren’t much for screaming without reason, but Dani thinks she takes Jamie’s point all the same. Quiet, Jamie is trying to say. Dani can properly rest here, Jamie is trying to say. Jamie doesn’t mind offering up her space.

“Ready?” The rain is still coming down in a torrent. Jamie’s hand is positioned at the doorhandle, Jamie’s posture strung tight. “Make a break for it on three. One--two--”

They run, damp clothes made soggy all over again, and Dani is surprised to hear herself make a whooping sound of joy as she splashes through puddles. Jamie, she thinks, could move faster--Jamie’s got a runner’s stamina when she puts her mind to it--but she’s jogging along at an easy pace, refusing to leave Dani behind. Her hand catches once on Dani’s sleeve, pulling her to the stairs behind the pub, guiding her up to a door at the top.

“Storms like these,” Jamie says when they’ve tumbled breathlessly into her home, “remind me of bein’ a kid. Sitting in school, hoping the power’d go so they’d send us home early.”

“Did it ever happen?” Dani wraps her arms around herself, trying not to shiver, trying not to drip too expansively across the scored floorboards. Jamie grins.

“Once. I was seven. Spent the whole day out in it anyway, caught the worst cold of my life. Best goddamn day a kid could want.”

She looks so at home here, as Dani watches her pull off her boots, drape her jacket lazily over a chair, stride around turning on lights. At the manor, Jamie is casual enough, rarely inclined to rush or worry, but here, it’s instantly clear she knows every creak in the floor, every stubborn lightswitch, every inch of a domain that is entirely Jamie.

A domain she has, for no reason at all, opened up to Dani tonight. The reality of it crashes home all at once, landing hard. Jamie barely knows her, and still is willing to give Dani a place to stay. Jamie barely knows her, and still is holding out a gray towel and a bundle of clothes, her smile crooked.

“Thought you might like to get out of those.”

A spike of warmth makes its way up Dani’s spine, settling somewhere around her ears. She crushes it down, forcing herself to accept the sweats and t-shirt with a grateful smile of her own.

“Thank you. Honestly, you didn’t have to do any of this--”

“The rain,” Jamie says easily, “is the fun part. The cold, not so much. Bath’s this way.”

Bathroom, Dani assumes she means--until Jamie gestures at the little tub, barely big enough for a woman her size. She looks marginally embarrassed for the first time, but it’s a resolute sort of embarrassment, as though Jamie has little patience for it.

“Not much,” she says. “But still better than catching ill. Take however long you like.”

Dani watches her back out of the room, a tumble of unfamiliar emotions in her chest. Someone offering up everything--home, clothes, bathtub--without asking for something in return is strange. Someone doing that much and then leaving, peaceable as the turn of a new day, is unheard of. She hesitates, waiting at the closed door for signs that Jamie will change her mind--or knock, having thought of something else Dani might need--and nothing comes. This room has become, so long as Dani wants it, her space. Jamie will take it back only when Dani’s finished.

Unwelcomely, she tries to imagine Eddie doing this very thing. Eddie, who only refrains from haunting her European adventures with postcard and phone call because he has no idea how to find her. Eddie, who would think the offer of clothes and a hot bath automatically come with other perks, and who would smile as he stepped in to collect like he couldn’t imagine her wanting to be left alone.

She shakes her head. Eddie is gone, and she is here, and Jamie isn’t him. Is so unlike him, in fact, it’s hard to imagine them standing in the same room.

And why, some little part of her pipes slyly up, are you comparing them in the first place?

She shivers, turning on the water, letting it run as hot as possible before sinking in. She leans her head back against a wadded-up washcloth, surveying the simplicity of the bathroom--single toothbrush, single cup for water, a minute assortment of hairbrush, hair ties, sunscreen. There is a dried rose framed beside the door, a small bunch of purple-and-white flowers she can’t name in a tiny windowsill vase.

It’s all very discreet, all very Jamie. To look at it with this much freedom, to be trusted alone in a space that has belonged to no one else, makes her heart pound.

She’s only being nice. And so what? What does it matter?

It matters. Even if she never says so, even if she never lets it out of her heart, Dani can’t deny that it matters. Like it mattered watching Jamie walk into the kitchen earlier this week, glancing at her with an easy raise of brows like she was thinking, Sure. You can stay. You’re one of us.

Jamie, calling her Poppins, telling her she’s doing great, offering her flat without a second’s pause. None of it warranted. None of it asked for. All of it so incredibly welcome.

She stays in the bath until the shivers ease out, carefully soaping her hair with the little bottle of shampoo on the windowsill. A different scent and brand than her own, and as she’s rinsing clean, she realizes she will smell like Jamie now. If for only a night, her hair--and the clothes Jamie gently pressed into her hands--will hold just a little bit of the gardener’s influence.

The warmth she’s beginning to attribute to Jamie sweeps through her again at the idea. That, and the awareness that these are Jamie’s things hugging her body. Jamie’s belongings, offered up like she feels not the least bit possessive about her living space. Sure. You can stay. You’re one of us.

“Warm?” Jamie asks when she finally steps back out of the bathroom. Her hair is still wet, though she’s changed into a clean white shirt and sweatpants of her own. Dani nods, confused when Jamie grins.

“What?”

“I think,” Jamie says placidly, “this is the first time I’ve seen you out of pastels. Suits you.”

Dani glances down. The threadbare black t-shirt bears a jagged white London Calling in peeling letters. She can’t help smiling.

“Maybe I’m a secret punk fan.”

“Are you?” Jamie sounds interested. Dani shakes her head.

“Sorry, no. Always open to learning, though.”

Here it is again: that funny, twisting feeling in her stomach that says she is at home with Jamie. That Jamie is easy and warm, despite the anger simmering somewhere deep down and a tendency toward cropping her sentences with swear words. That Jamie has opened her home to Dani only because Jamie has opened to her, on some level neither of them is entirely sure how to approach.

“Thank you,” she says, because it’s easier than putting this feeling into words. “For all of this. You didn’t have to.”

Jamie shrugs. “Wanted to. You haven’t had an easy couple of days. Sometimes, a little quiet goes a long way.”

She’s seated on the arm of the couch, bare feet dangling an inch off the floor. Looking at her, Dani can’t entirely wrap her mind around the idea that she’s only known this woman for a couple of days. That she doesn’t, in fact, know much of anything about her at all.

And still, when Jamie rises and begins arranging pillow and blanket on the couch, Dani’s stomach performs a backflip she’d never come close to feeling with Eddie.

“That’s really kind of you,” she says, the words a blind effort to distract from her trembling hands. “I really don’t need much, you don’t have to go to any trouble--”

Jamie glances over her shoulder. “No trouble. Bed’s just that way.”

Dani turns to look. Sure enough, behind a pulled-back curtain, she can just make out Jamie’s mattress and frame. “I--I mean, I won’t be bothering you, if that’s what you--”

“What?” Straightening, Jamie frowns. “No, I mean, it’s yours. Take it. I sleep on the couch half the goddamn time anyway, it’s no--”

“I am not,” Dani interrupts, “taking your bed, Jamie.”

Not since her last argument with Miles has she been engaged in such a standoff. Jamie, still holding a pillow, looks ready to chain herself to the couch. Dani, heady with the inescapable awareness of Jamie’s shampoo rinsed out of her own hair, can’t have that. It’s too much. Clothes and space and ride--all of that, she can accept. But foisting Jamie from her own bed?

“I’m not doing it,” she says. Her arms are folded, her mouth pulling into a smile she can’t for her life shake. “I’m told I'm very stubborn, so you might as well just let me have that couch now.”

“I--” For the first time all night, Jamie seems to be at a loss. “I’m--aiming for chivalry, here, Poppins.”

“You’ve been nothing less,” Dani assures her. “A white knight, really. But I’m afraid this is where I have to draw the line.”

“I sleep on it all the time.”

“So, it’s my turn.”

Jamie’s whole face seems on edge of some kind of collapse--though into laughter or upset, Dani can’t begin to guess. She has a brief flash of possibility, the two of them standing on either side of the couch all night, arguing well into daylight over who ought to take the proper night’s sleep.

“You’ve got kids to handle in the morning,” Jamie says reasonably, proving her point.

“You spent all day working in the sun,” Dani volleys in return. She thinks for a moment, then adds, “Also, I knocked you into a puddle earlier, and you didn’t get a nice warm bath.”

“Didn’t need one.” Jamie looks exasperated. “Poppins, come on. This doesn’t have to be a big bloody deal.”

It doesn’t, Dani agrees. It really doesn’t. All Jamie has to do is step out of the way, step behind that curtain, put herself to bed where she belongs.

Or, alternatively--

It’s coming out of her mouth before she can stop it. Before she can run through all the reasons not to suggest this very thing. Before she can pin down the butterflies having a dogfight in her stomach and make a decision based in good judgment.

“Look, if you’re that committed to making me sleep in the bed, come join me.”

Jamie nearly drops the pillow. Her calm has utterly vacated the flat, leaving behind a woman who looks--if Dani isn’t much mistaken--much nearer to frantic than she’s ever seen Jamie before. Much nearer to the kind of nervous Dani had been on the ride over.

“I,” she says. “That--I shouldn’t--”

“It’s the best compromise,” Dani says, trying to sound reasonable. Trying to sound as though the invitation to share Jamie’s bed isn’t making her entire body run with sudden electricity. “Neither of us is very big, I’m sure we can fit.”

“I’m--sure we can.” Jamie is grimacing. Jamie looks pained. If she had an elegant way out, Dani would take it back simply to erase that look from Jamie’s face, a look that says Jamie would rather sleep in her tiny bathtub than wherever Dani is.

Elegant way out, she can’t find, and she’s tired. Tired, and buzzing with nerves, and somehow, the au pair wins out over all possible variants of Dani Clayton. “It isn’t that bad an idea,” she says, her voice steady. “I don’t even snore.”

This breaks something open between them. She can’t put her finger on just what it is, or why, but suddenly Jamie is laughing, and Dani is grinning, and she knows the stalemate is at its end. It’s been too long a night. There’s just no point.

“Here,” she adds, settling at the edge of the bed, watching Jamie switch off the lights and creep closer as though trying not to startle a skittish animal. “I’ll lay right on the edge, you won’t even have to know I’m here--”

“Don’t be silly,” Jamie says. She hesitates; Dani wonders if she’s giving a final chance for Dani to shoo her away, to choose a night spent alone after all. She thumps the bedspread with a flat palm, staring meaningfully at Jamie until the mattress sinks beneath the weight of au pair and gardener alike.

“See?” she can’t stop herself saying. “We fit.”

Jamie stares at her, a lingering gaze Dani couldn’t decipher on her best day. She opts to ignore it, stretching out under the rumpled covers. Beside her, Jamie slides a hand beneath her head, staring up at the ceiling.

“Not so bad,” Dani says, wishing she could shut up, wishing she could stop thinking--about Jamie’s head on the pillow beside her, about Jamie’s scent sunk into this pillow, about the indent of Jamie’s body in this old mattress where maybe no one else has ever lain. Jamie makes a low sound in her chest.

“Long day.”

“So long.” Was it only this morning Dani was having a small panic attack, the strain of a new job on top of familiar guilt too heavy to bear? Was it only this afternoon she’d grabbed Jamie’s shoulder, pulled her back from storming off to skin Miles alive?

Was it really only this evening she’d stalked out after Peter Quint, crashed headlong into Jamie, listened to police officers warn them all away from the manor in a blackout?

Jamie clears her throat. Dani’s starting to think it’s a nervous habit--Jamie seems to do it only around her. Why on earth would I make her nervous? “Comfortable?” she asks the ceiling. Dani nods.

In the dark, the bed seems smaller. The pillows are touching, the blankets bridging the brief gap between Jamie’s right leg and Dani’s left. In the dark, Jamie’s breath is audible, the smell of rain and shampoo and clean clothes twisting together into a single knot.

In the dark, Dani thinks, they could be anyone. Not gardener and au pair, but anyone, bound by a single unpredictable night.

She wonders if they should talk--about Peter Quint, about the tension of the evening, about the kids, or the roses, or any number of little odd moments around the manor. She wonders if Jamie expects her to ask questions--who Quint is, what he was to Rebecca Jessel, what he might be doing skulking around the house.

She can’t quite find it in her. It’s too warm, too soft, the silence as inviting as the rustle of Jamie’s borrowed clothes against her skin. Laying in the dark, Jamie’s foot nearly touching her own, listening to the storm pound the windowpanes, Dani is breathing easier than she has in months.

“I’m glad,” she says quietly, “you’re here.”

Jamie’s head rustles the pillowcase, turning to look at her. “Yeah?”

Dani smiles. “Yeah. I can’t explain it, but I feel...safer.” Something sharpens behind her ribcage, something that begs her to add, With Hannah, with Owen, with the kids, too. She doesn’t. It’s true, but it’s also not really what she means.

“He doesn’t know where to find you,” Jamie says, and for a moment, Dani wonders how she could possibly be talking about Eddie. Then Jamie adds, “I hate that fucker. So does Owen. Everyone is safe tonight.”

Right. Peter Quint. Of course. “I’m glad,” Dani repeats. She feels the mattress shift as Jamie carefully settles in. “Jamie?”

“Mm?”

Too many things to say. Too many questions to ask. Too many of those butterflies winging around as Jamie’s elbow bumps her, as Jamie’s breath brushes her cheek. She shuts her eyes, the simple image of Jamie’s gaze inches away too much to handle.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, Poppins,” Jamie murmurs. And though Dani’s heart is racing, though her skin is hot, though the storm outside is brutal and Jamie’s bed is much smaller than she’d thought--she finds herself relaxing. Finds herself thoughtlessly shifting to a more comfortable position on her side. Finds herself, even, leaning in toward Jamie’s warmth as the sound of her breathing shallows.

For the first time in what feels like years, Dani Clayton sleeps.

#fanfiction #ficlet #the haunting of bly manor #dani x jamie #damie #clearly an AU all things considered--ghosts didn't feel like they suited this one

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forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

could you possibly do 142 and 145 for Javier Peña, all the angst /hurt no comfort (depending on how you feel 🙂)

Prompts Used:

142. “I waited and waited, but you never came back.”

145. “I wasn’t going to wait around for you forever.”

Pairing: Javier x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: language

MASTERLIST

JAVIER MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

Javier swiped a tired hand over his face as he looked around your apartment. It was immaculately clean, which wasn’t far off the mark for you, but it was also empty. Now that was definitely wrong and cause for suspicion. He’d come to yours for dinner, like it had become his custom to do most nights when he wasn’t out working until the wee hours of the morning but this time was different. This time there was nothing he was coming home to. You were gone, all of your things were gone, no note, no call, nothing. It was like you had up and disappeared without a trace.

In his frantic efforts to soothe and ease his anxieties and worries, he had gone back to his apartment to see if you were there for some reason. Hell, he’d even called up Steve and asked him if he’d heard from you or anything. He was growing desperate. You were so open and communicative normally this was highly unlike you. At least he knew you were more than likely safe; it didn’t seem like anyone associated with Escobar knew who you were or that they would just come and pack up your things and take you. No...this was considerably more calculated and cunning. This was something that had been planned. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out. That’s what it made it hurt so much worse; that’s what made his stomach twist and churn and his heart constrict. This was something that you had obviously been planning for a while.

He leaned against the wall before sliding down to the floor and looking at the ceiling as he tried to ground himself. His dark eyes were bloodshot and prickled with the unfamiliar sting of tears as he tried to figure what could have possibly happened. What changed so suddenly?

Javier had been so careful over the years, building so many walls and barriers to protect and guard himself. He’d steeled his heart and cut off displaying most emotions in order to preserve what little feeling and emotion he had left within himself. It seemed to dwindle to less and less every day.

But then he’d let you; completely by chance and utterly by accident at a bar where he aided in protecting from a man that was relentless in his pursuit of you. You’d approached him with wide doe eyes, mouthing something he couldn’t quite make out - was it the noisy bar or the several drinks he’d already knocked back? - before throwing your arms around him and kissing him till you were both breathless before loudly declaring him your boyfriend for the other man to overhear.

It wasn’t long after that before you really were calling him your boyfriend - and meaning it. For whatever reason, it was you that had been able to break down all of his walls and defenses, caringly and lovingly day by day. And while it terrified him, he let it happen little bit by bit until he realized why; he loved you. The realization had come to him slowly but surely and then it had hit him like a freight train. At first it had scared him to death; he never thought he’d experience those feelings again and yet here they were. And it all felt so easy, so simple and that’s how he knew. And when those three little words left his lips at the end of a quiet evening, while you two were just relaxing and watching an old film while knocking back a few beers, he didn’t mind at all. The way you’d looked back at him with those sweet, wide eyes and how softly you repeated it back had been everything to him. He hadn’t regretted the decision at all and for once in life, he was happy to be all in.

But then...why had it led to this? There had been no major fight, no big disagreement that could have explained any of this. But you were just gone.

A long, deep inhale and exhale escaped past dry, trembling lips. He’d been working more lately, that was for sure. The closer and closer they got to Escobar, the less and less time he’d had for you. And for the most part, you hadn’t questioned him, or anything of the sort; you’d expressed concerns for his health - physical and mental - and his safety, and pleaded with him to slow and not rush into things heads on, but he didn’t listen. Of course he didn’t. And you understood for the most part; he job was in no joke, no walk in the park. But still didn’t make things easier. You tried to be there for him as much as possible in whatever way he needed, but over time it became increasingly difficult.

Nights spent together turned into Javier slinking into your bed in the early mornings and then leaving again before you were even up. He’d shown up on your doorstep injured more than a time or two, luckily never anything permanent, but it still hurt your heart. Even your weekend outings were becoming less and less frequent, turning into a relic of the past while you just missed him. If there would have been a way to help him, you would have but he had made it a point to keep you a separate part of his life. You didn’t know the horrors and never deserved too, he always claimed. What had started as something unstoppable and wild slowly fizzled into dying touches and unspoken words.

“Fuck,” he sighed to himself more than anything as he buried his face into his hands, “fuck.”

Javier remained there for a few moments, trying to gather his racing thoughts and come up with a logical conclusion on what could have happened. He was a smart man, and it really shouldn’t have been difficult for him to piece together. And then all at once, it hit him.

“Shit,” he jumped to his feet as he grabbed his keys and ran out to his car, ready to race to the airport. He was willing to pull any stunt to keep you grounded until he at least had the chance to speak to you. There was no doubt in his mind that you were planning an escape; from him and Colombia.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Hey!” Javier held up his DEA badge as he ran towards the terminal he had learned you were at. Boarding was set to begin in a few minutes so he was brazenly running like his life depended on it in order to get to you on time. He received more than a few curious glances as he weaved his way through people, his gaze honed in on you. You’d been sitting there, quietly reading, but as soon as you heard his shouts, you’d looked up in horror. He had the sneaking suspicion that you had hoped he wouldn’t put two and two together or if he did, that he wouldn’t find you in time.

“Dulzura!” he stopped directly in front of you as a hand clutched at his chest, his heart beating wildly and practically threatening to burst through, “I waited and waited and you never came back. Figured it out - what are you doing?”

“Javier,” you hissed as you slammed your book shut and put it away in your bag. Curious onlookers were almost staring at the two of you as you put a hand on his shoulder and dragged him off to the side, “what the hell are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” his dark eyes grew wide as he looked at you suspiciously, “what the hell are you doing here at the airport? Your whole apartment was packed and now you’re here?”

“My internship at the University ended last week,” you reminded him as a surprised look crossed his features. Of course he’d known...he was supposed to remember anyway. It had been marked on his calendar, but he’d been so damn busy with everything else he’d completely overlooked it. You’d even had plans to go out and celebrate...but instead he’d forgotten and you’d come home to a dark and empty apartment.

“I-I knew that…”

“Did you?” you didn’t intend for your response to be so harsh, but it was venomous and biting “because you didn’t say a word. I didn’t even see or hear from you that day.”

“Dulzura, I’m so, so sorry. Please let me-”

“I have nothing keeping me here in Colombia anymore, Javier,” you told him quietly, and you loathed how horrible it sounded. You were trying to get a point across, but wished it didn’t have to be like this, “I’m going back home to the states.”

“You have nothing...you have me,” he reminded you, shock and horror marring his features as he tried to reach for you. You recoiled out of his touch for the first time, shocking you both, "please let me explain…"

"There's nothing to explain, Javier," his name was a soft sigh as you hung your head. Your heart was always feeling heavy as you looked at his crestfallen face, "its just...its not the first thing you've forgotten lately. Our anniversary, my birthday, now this."

"Dulzura-"

"I know your job is important, I know how much this means to you," a shaky exhale left your lips as a single tear rolled down your cheek, "that's why I haven't really complained. But I can't...I can't do this, where I'm the fourth or fifth priority in your life. I know your job needs you, and so many people depend on you. But I need you to be present too. Sometimes I feel like I'm alone more than I'm not. You're here but you're not really here. I know that it sounds selfish but I want you too."

"I know things have been crazy lately," he was tempted to reach up and touch your cheek but stopped himself. He wasn't sure if he could take more heartbreak, "but they’ll settle down...they'll get better and it will all be over soon. I swear it. I just need a little more time."

"And that's what you've been saying for months," it was a sharp, cruel reminder of how things had really been. You didn't want to be mad at him or end up resenting everything about him, which was partially the reason for how things had turned out, why you'd made your decision, "its like there's a whole part of you I don't even know, that happens to be a majority of your life."

"I just want to keep you safe," he huffed, running a hand through his already messy hair, "that's all. It's-"

"Dangerous," you finished for him, "I know, and I get it. I do but I just...I can’t do this anymore. Where I only get half of you, or even less. I know it’s horribly selfish and I might be the worst person alive, but I can’t...I can’t do this anymore, Javi. I want to be able to get all of you, and to know you’re safe and sound and that I don’t have to worry about...you getting hurt...or worse.”

“It won’t always be like this,” he insisted softly, as you nodded in agreement. One day things would come to a head, whether or not they were in his favor was yet to be determined. And you did love him, more than anything. More than life itself, and the idea of having to watch him get hurt over and over or worse...was too much to bear. And while it sounded cruel and horrible, you’d rather create a distance between yourselves and cut ties rather than deal with the insurmountable loss and grief of Javier, “I just need you to hold on a little longer…”

“Javier...I love you, but I...I wasn’t going to wait around forever,” you sighed lightly, “we both knew that my time here wasn’t permanent and we thought..this would be over by now. If I knew, or you could guarantee me that there was a way this would be over soon and you’d be safe, I would stay. I would. But right now there’s no way to know, and you’re getting further and further away from me and that scares me to death. I-I can’t protect you. I can’t do anything to help and I don’t want to be the one to…”

Deal with your death.

“Okay,” it was a small sound of defeat as he fought back a whimper that threatened to escape past pouted lips. He knew you were right; gods, you deserved the world and he couldn’t even give you himself or even a semblance of a clear future together. He wished things had been different; and he was mad and angry, not at you but at the cruel world that had allowed him to experience a taste of such saccharine bliss before taking it all away again. He knew there was nothing he could do to convince you to say. None of the arguments were in his favor. He took a step back, lightly nodding at himself, trying to remain composed, “I get it. I do. I’m just sorry I wasn’t able to be there for you how you needed. I’m sorry I couldn’t be enough.”

“You are more than enough, Javier,” you promised, reaching for his hand as you offered him a gentle touch, “it’s just the situation - the reality of things. I guess we’re not allotted the things we want in life, huh? I wish things were different. I-I wish I was strong to stay here and wait for you. But I can’t…”

Waste years of my life wondering if you were dead or alive. Worrying about my safety and yours and remaining helpless.

“I know,” he took his chances and leaned over, placing a kiss to the side of your head, “you’re right. You should go.”

“Javier,” you leaned into him, tears cascading down your cheeks as you wished you could hold onto him and never let go, “I’m sorry, I really am. I love you, more than you'll ever know. But I just...I tried to tell you I was leaving. But every time I did, you weren't really there or the time wasn’t right. I’m sorry.”

“I love you,” he promised softly, “that’s why this hurts more than anything else. I… can’t stop you and you need to do what’s right. This is right. So...go home and be safe. Maybe one day…”

“We’ll see each other again, I promise. One way or another, in this life or the next,” you tenderly cradled his face in your hands before kissing him one last time, “but right now I have to go. I love you.”

“Yeah,” he agreed softly as you let go, almost jumping at the boarding announcement. Pulling back, you offered him the ghost of a smile before grabbing your bags and heading to check in.

Javier didn’t turn around to watch you go, instead hanging his head before exhaling loudly, attempting to shake off this situation. He steeled himself again, willing the Javier he used to be to come back up before he walked away and out of the airport, never so much as casting a glance back.

This part of his life was over and done with and he was going to let it die like so many other things.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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pascalpanic · 3 years

Text

Alpha Beta Charlie- A Frankie Morales Story

Summary: Frankie is a lonely man with a big heart. His life changes when a new girl comes into his life.

W/C: 4.1k

Warnings: This one is a little heavy. Lots of language, talk of poor mental health (Frankie has depression and anxiety), Frankie’s recovering from a coke addiction, alcohol is prevalent here, harm to animals, lots of talk of blood and injuries.

A/N: This story is different than I normally write. There’s no reader in the story, this is just a story about Frankie Morales and a moment in his life. Please note that this is darker as it centers around an injured animal. Be warned of that. P.S. some of my friends might see ur names in here :) thank u to all of my friends who helped me pick Charlie’s name, and to @ilikechocolatemilkh who helped me create this whole story!

Frankie Morales is a kindhearted man. Anyone who meets him knows it instantly. He’s got a wonderful laugh that’s warm and inviting, and it’s often on display to anyone who chats with him for more than a few seconds. He’s caring, it’s clear, with big brown eyes that radiate compassion.

His friends would describe him more as an idiot. Frankie, who they call Catfish from their days in the military, insists that they’re the idiots. He’s the voice of reason in their group, making the rational decisions and de-escalating fights within their group.

That’s not to say Frankie is entirely sunshine and rainbows. He’s now several months sober from a long and grueling addiction to cocaine. It ruined him: it took away his pilot’s license, his everything in life. Flying helicopters was Frankie’s passion, but he’s recovering. He’s on the right track.

He had a girlfriend, who became his fiancée, and left him not long after he returned home from a dangerous mission in South America. It didn’t matter anyway; her child, who Frankie had dedicated all of his heart to before the birth, was revealed to be another man’s. As much as she resented him for taking the mission, he resented her for cheating and lying and holding the information back.

So now Frankie lives on his own. He resides out in a more rural town, not far from where Benny has his weekly fights and Will (also known as Ironhead) works with young military recruits. It’s been a couple of months, and it’s hard to be alone. Santiago pops into town once or twice a month, and it’s always the highlight of Frankie’s very being. His best friend brings light and laughter into his life. When he leaves again, Frankie’s small home feels massive and quiet.

He plays lots of CDs. He has bluetooth speakers all around the home and blasts his favorite songs. He’s learned how to cook and clean and has even learned how to bake a decent, basic version of a nice loaf of bread. He works as a mechanic at a shop in his small town’s center, working the odd hours that no one else wants, the hours where others want to be home with their families.

He’d considered different options to make the house more home-like, more welcoming. He tried his hand at gardening, only to find that he had the opposite of a green thumb. He painted the walls a warmer color, then painted them again. He was currently considering changing the colors for the third time. He’d burn candles that he thought smelled nice. He’d hung up a few photos of him and his friends, or his family. Nothing really worked.

A typical night for Frankie held one of two patterns:

-Night A: Frankie gets home from the shop at about 7:30, hands covered in grease and smelling of burnt motor oil. He gets in the shower and cleans up, then either ends up at Benny’s arena to cheer him on, or at the bar with both Miller brothers.

-Night B: Frankie gets home at the same time. He showers to clean himself, simply because he hates leaving smudges over his home. He cooks a nice dinner or orders takeout. He eats it on the couch and watches a new Netflix series. He gets sad and feels alone and drinks a beer, then a few more, to drown the sensation. He goes to bed early and calls into the shop to see if any of the morning shift workers want to go home early, because he can come in an hour or two before his shift. He claims it’s for the overtime pay. It’s really to avoid the loneliness.

Frankie likes patterns. He likes routine. It’s soothing. Maybe it’s a remnant of his military days, where not a second would pass without having a title affixed to the very second he was living in. Predictability made the hurt easier.

Tonight was an A Night. Frankie and the Miller brothers sat at the bar of McCreary’s and talked about everything and nothing at once. Will talked about the new girl he was seeing. Benny made lewd comments. Frankie smacked his arm and ordered another round for the other two, then nursed one beer for the entire night.

Winters were the worst for Catfish. He lived in the South, where snow was uncommon, but the dreary February weather stole whatever energy he could muster up and sent it up to join the gray masses that hung in the sky, yet never shed their raindrops. It gets dark early, another thing Frankie hates. It reminds him of the look on Tom’s face when he died. Of the way his bachelor home never made sounds unless he created them. Of the way the craving for one more hit of that devious white powder felt, the way it scrambled his brain until he thought it was the only thing that could take it away.

This A Night, which also happened to be an especially chilly Tuesday, Frankie drove home from the bar at 12:21. The backroads that lead from the suburbs out to the rolling hills are dark, with a rare streetlight or two illuminating a fork in the road that led to a house. The radio droned on, some old Waylon Jennings song that was threatening to send Frankie into a fit of rage and smash a fist into his dashboard. He turned off the radio instead.

Another car drove the opposite way, far in the distance. He could see the lights approaching, then dim slightly. Frankie turned off his brights, instead allowing the road to be illuminated just by his front headlights. He turns up the heat in his truck as a shiver runs down his spine.

Something is running across the road. Frankie can see it now. It’s far from him, but visible in the other car’s light. He slams on his brakes, his body jerking forward.

The other car doesn’t slow.

He slams his horn several times, for whatever is in the road and the other driver.

The thing doesn’t move.

The car doesn’t slow.

The car and the creature- oh fuck, it’s an animal- collide.

Everything that happens next is too quick. The car stops for a moment. Frankie whips the truck into park and turns on his hazards.

The other car stops for a moment. Frankie can just make out a silhouette inside. He gets out of his truck, eyes wide and frantic. He runs to the animal’s side.

The car drives off.

Dust swirls across the road as the car’s tail lights fade into the distance. Leaving just Frankie and his truck and the mangled mess of fur and blood.

“Fucker!” Frankie screams after the car. “You fuckin’ bastard! You didn’t even check, you motherfucker!”

He gets closer and realizes it’s a dog. Its fur is white and brown and so painstakingly red with its own blood, and it whimpers and cries and Frankie realizes the poor fucking thing is still alive. Whether it’s his caretaking or his military instincts that kick in, Frankie isn’t sure, but before he knows it he’s ripping off his jacket and picking up the poor poor baby, oh you little angel, he coos to it, wrapping it in the denim and setting it in his passenger seat.

It’s still whimpering and crying, and Frankie gets in the driver’s seat and grabs his phone. “Nearest 24-hour pet hospital,” he shouts into it, hands shaking. He doesn’t realize either reaction is happening. It gets the words wrong. “No, fuck,” he groans, shifting the truck into drive and whipping a U-turn. He types in the words as he starts to speed back in the direction of the town. He knows he shouldn’t text and drive and normally he doesn’t, but he’s a fucking former military helicopter pilot, he rationalizes with himself, he can handle this. He finds the directions and types them in and tears start dripping from his eyes.

“Hang in there, buddy, hey,” he says and rubs the poor dog’s big ears as they drive. “It’s gonna be 30 minutes. Think you can hang on for me?” he asks it, not expecting a response. He wants to check the dog’s sex but now is certainly not the time, not while he’s doing 85 in a 60 zone and the dog’s blood is seeping into his denim jacket and his passenger seat.

The tears are flowing freely from his eyes now, his heart breaking. He can feel the animal’s shallow breaths as he drives, and he sobs to himself. “Hang on, buddy. It’s gonna be okay, I gotcha. I’m Frankie,” he introduces himself to the dog, “and I’m gonna take real good care of you. You’re gonna be alright and we’re gonna get you fixed up and back to your owners.”

The drive takes 24 minutes when Frankie is flying down the backroads. Fuck if a cop sees him. Fuck blowing a tire. That can be cared for later, when there’s not a dying creature next to him. A steady murmur of ‘it’s okay’ spills from Frankie’s lips. He’s not sure if he’s saying it to the dog or himself. One hand firmly grips the steering wheel and the other never leaves the animal’s body. He comforts the poor creature, murmuring more reassurances the closer they get.

“Please hang in there for me, cariño,” Frankie whimpers, chewing his bleeding lip. “I gotcha. It’s all gonna be alright, bud.”

When he sees the hospital, he drives a little faster. He pulls into the emergency room area and parks in front of the door, turning on his hazards and running inside. There are a few veterinary nurses inside and they greet him, but their looks turn to fear when they see the denim-wrapped animal. “Please, please, Idon’tknowthisisn’tmydogitwasahitandrunandIpickeditup-”

“It’s alright, sir, come with us. Please breathe and tell us again,” a kind woman tells him with a hand on his arm, rushing him and the dog back. Frankie calms down after a moment and explains what happened. “It’s not my dog, I don’t know whose dog this is, you gotta check it for a chip-” he rambles.

“It’s alright, sir,” the nurse tells him kindly and takes the dog from his arms. Frankie clutches after it and a new woman pushes his arms down. “We’re going to take it back and operate on it. Would you please wait here for us? We’ll come give you updates as we get them,” she tells him, gesturing to the waiting room. He nods. “And is this your dog’s first time here?” She asks.

The tears come back, choking his throat as water falls steadily from his eyes. “It’s not even my fuckin’ dog, man,” he whimpers, worrying his lip between his teeth again.

The woman is still kind. “I see. Please, sit, Mr….”

“Morales,” he manages out.

She nods. “Mr. Morales. I understand you’re worried. Please just wait in here for us and we’ll bring you information when we have it.” He nods softly, grabbing a tissue from the front desk. He wipes his eyes and nose. “My truck is parked right outside, it’s in the way, I’ll go park it somewhere else,” he tells her.

“That’s perfectly fine, sir. You can even leave and come back if you’d like.” He shakes his head. “I’ll be right back,” he tells her and walk-jogs outside, getting in his car and bringing it around to park.

Frankie enters the emergency room again and sits in a chair. He worries and worries for hours, texting his group chat with the Millers and Santiago. He gives them a play-by-play, but only Santiago responds. He sits awake for another hour, nervously wringing his ball cap.

The dog must be alive, or at least be able to save, he rationalizes with himself. After a while, the worry fades and he falls asleep. Two hours later, no other patients around to disrupt him, he’s woken by the nurse who took the dog back. “Mr. Morales?” She calls out gently.

He jumps awake. “Yeah, yeah, that’s me.” He sits up from his slumped state, readjusting the cap from where it had been resting over his eyes.

The nurse smiles softly at him and sits in a chair across the waiting room from him. “The dog is safe now. We had to amputate her front left leg, and she had a lot of stitches, but she’s stable and looks like she’ll do well.” He lets out a sigh and her smile becomes more genuine. “You told us she isn’t yours?”

She. The dog is a girl. Of course she is, Frankie smiles a little. The smile falls as he remembers the fact again. “No, no. It was a hit and run. I saw it happen, the other guy took off, it wasn’t me who hit her, I’m-”

“Mr. Morales.”

“Right. No, she’s not mine.”

The nurse nods and writes that down. “Well, we scanned her several times. She has no chip, no identifiers at all. Our options now are to send her to some rescue or kennel of some sort, or you can take her home with you.”

His heart breaks at the image of the sweet dog in the front seat of his car going somewhere without daily love and affection. “She’ll come with me,” he answers before he can rationally think about it.

“Wonderful,” she nods, marking that down as well. “She’s looped up now on some drugs. We’ll let her sleep them off for a bit and then she’s all yours. We do have some procedures we’ll need you to follow, for caring for the wound and such. But after that, it should be all good. You’re free to head out now. We can call you when she wakes up.”

Frankie nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that would be great.” He looks down at his watch and notices how early in the morning it is. “Thanks,” he tells her with a genuine smile, taking off his cap and running his hands through his hair before replacing it.

- From that moment on, Frankie was enamored with the dog. He called in from work when the shop opened bright and early at 6:00 A.M.

“Hey Carol. It’s Morales.”

“You can stop asking if you can come in early, Frank. Just do it,” the woman chuckles on the other line. A loud slurp is audible- it’s the coffee she’s always drinking, the dark sludgy shit that she brews in the break room that Frankie can’t stand but she absolutely adores.

“No, uh. Actually, I was calling in to see if someone else could cover for me today.” He explains the whole story to her, wringing his cap between his hands. “So. I was kind of hoping I could take the day to look for the dog’s owners and care for her.”

There’s a beat of silence over the phone. “Of course, Frankie,” the older woman says kindly. “You got a real big heart, kid. Real big. That’s awful kind.”

He smiles a little. “Just doing what I can. Thanks, Carol.”

“Keep me posted, Catfish.” The woman hangs up.

Frankie’s in more comfortable clothes now. He didn’t sleep at all once he got home, waiting for the hospital’s call. He distracts himself, cooking a breakfast he only picks at, watching his new series halfheartedly on the couch.

The animal hospital calls him again at 7:30. He gets off the couch immediately and into the truck. There’s a bit of blood on the passenger seat, from where the dog wasn’t immediately covered by his jacket. It’s not a worry, though, he thinks to himself. He’ll get some stain remover and maybe a new and nicer jacket.

When he arrives, they usher him back to a check-up room. The dog is lying down but she wags her tail at Frankie, looking up at him with big brown eyes that could rival his own. “Hey, sweet thing,” he calls softly, and the dog stands and walks over to him. It’s pained, that much is clear, but she’s already adjusting to walking with one less limb. She rests her head on Frankie’s lap and he scratches her ears gently.

Some paperwork is filled out and Frankie leads the dog out to his truck with the leash and collar the hospital provided. He lifts her into the passenger seat and she snuggles in. The scent is familiar to her.

Frankie drives her to a pet store nearby, smiling over at her. She looks at ease with him, relaxed and trusting. Of course she is. This is the man who saved her.

He helps her down once they arrive and leads her inside. Her walking is pained, he can tell. “Aw, honey,” he frowns. There are carts right inside; Frankie sees the immediate solution. He scoops her up and sets her in a cart. Her tongue hangs out happily as they go through the store. “We’re gonna get you all kinds of fun stuff, huh?” He asks, scratching her head.

Frankie spares no expense for the dog. As they cross through the store, the cart fills: bags of food and treats, a new leash, and a pink collar decorated with donuts “because you’re such a sweetie, right cutie?”, doggie bags, and food and water dishes. Finally they reach the toy aisle. “Do you wanna pick your own toy?”

He picks her up and sets her down on the ground, unclipping her leash to allow her to explore the toy aisle. She meanders, sniffing toys here and there, even considering one big bone. A few moments later, she comes tottering back to the cart with a toy in her mouth. It’s a big plush hedgehog. Frankie grins. “Aw, that’s a good one! Good choice, cutie.” He kisses her head as he puts her back in the cart.

They check out and drive home, and Frankie allows her to wander inside. “Welcome home. At least for now. I suppose I should put an ad out for you online.”

The dog doesn’t respond, just wanders around the house, sniffing the furniture warily and looking back at Frankie. Asking if he’s coming. He smiles and leads her to the couch, sitting down on it. “I know they say you shouldn’t let dogs on the furniture, but I think you and I can share.” She jumps up and Frankie praises her, giving her a smooch and earning a big lick in return. “Oh, pretty girl, I think you’ll like it here,” he coos to her. She snuggles into his side with a sigh and Frankie sighs too.

Over the next few days, he posts ads for her, but no one responds. He reaches out to people from the area he was driving in, but no one responds. After Day 4 of searching, there’s no response and he allows himself to sigh in relief. “You’re mine now, baby girl,” he coos to the dog, who’s happily panting and grinning.

During the first week, Frankie tries out different names for her. None of them seem to stick. He wonders if she ever even had a name before. Ada, Lucille, Thea, Sunny, Miki, Zulu, Fox, Pancake. None of them work right for her personality.

It’s not until late one night when Frankie’s coke cravings decide upon a name for her.

It’s 2:24 in the morning and Frankie is quaking like a leaf. The dog is cuddled up into his side on the bed. Wherever he goes around the house, she follows. He’s biting his lip so hard it’s drawing blood. Normally when he’s this anxious, when he yearns to call his dealer, he rides it out by balling his fists so tight his knuckles turn white. But his dog seems to notice.

She rests her chin on his hip, wagging her tail against the mattress with a steady thump. She whines quietly. She knows.

Frankie’s at least momentarily distracted. “Hey, beautiful, what’s wrong?” He asks her, scratching his head and rolling over to pet her. He’s still desperate but the focus shifts from the sensation of one last hit to the feeling of her soft fur beneath his fingers. She sighs happily and snuggles into Frankie’s side, and he starts to cry.

No one has ever needed him. Not his plants: they’re succulents. He deals with them once every other week. Not his former fiancée. She didn’t need him, just liked him for his money and his dick late at night. Not his friends. They had other friends to go to. No, this dog needs him, and it makes his heart feel like it’s going to burst.

Sitting up, Frankie turns on the television. He hits a random button to choose a channel, and Princess and the Frog comes on. He chuckles a little. “How about Tiana?” He asks his dog and scratches her ears. She doesn’t react.

It’s near the beginning of the movie. The relaxing music soothes him as the movie starts. The dog lies with her head on his thigh, happily receiving scratchies from her new father. Her head perks up when she hears a shrill noise from the television: Tiana’s best friend in her puffy pink dress.

“It’s okay, it’s okay baby. It’s just Charlotte.”

Charlotte. Her ears perk up and she looks at him. “Charlotte?” He asks again, and she looks at him in confusion. “Do you like that one? How about Lottie?” No response. “Or Charlie?”

The dog pounces on him with her one front paw and licks his face. Frankie laughs happily scratching her sides. “Is that your name, pretty girl? Is your name Charlie?”

The answer, it seems, is yes.

It’s funny, Frankie thinks. Charlie is the third letter of the military alphabet, after Alpha and Beta.

Before Delta.

She would be, he realizes. She’s more important to him than his Delta Squadron guys. More important to him than the terrible things he did in the military. She comes before Delta.

And that’s how Charlie got her name.

The guys finally came over to Frankie’s house on Night 9 of owning Charlie.

All of the men are dog lovers, and Charlie takes to Benny quickly. He gives her her favorite kind of scratches: one hand behind the ear, one hand on the tummy. “Yeah, that’s a good tripod,” he teases her as he snuggles her.

“Hey man, cut it out,” Frankie frowns and smacks his arm. “She’s insecure about it! Be nice.”

Santiago laughs. “Hey, you know what, Fish? This isn’t what I meant when I said that you should get a girl, but I’ll take it. Especially when she’s such a sweetie- oh hi, beautiful,” he coos as Charlie hops his way and licks his face.

Frankie shakes his head. “Isn’t she a cutie?” He laughs happily as he watches his dog. “I tried posting ads for her, but no one answered. She’s such a sweetheart, potty trained and everything. I can’t believe I got so lucky.”

Benny grins. “And all because we asked you to get a beer and you caved and said yes.”

“What the hell do you mean caved, Ben? I get beers with you two fuckers three times a week,” he laughs and shakes his head.

He’s been home alone with her all week, but he hasn’t felt as anxious as he normally does. Her companionship is all he needs, the way she snuggles up tight against him, the way her meal schedule motivates him to eat more. He has a purpose now.

After the initial excitement, Charlie finds her place sitting at her dad’s feet, panting happily and looking around the room. “She fits in well,” Will nods and leans over as he scratches her head. “She’s the newest member of our group, I suppose.”

“She’s much less work than Fish. Maybe we replace him with her,” Santiago teases and Frankie flips him off, chuckling softly.

This was a pattern that came to be known as the newly named C Night in Frankie’s head. These are the nights where they order a pizza or takeout and hang out in Frankie’s living room with Charlie. She’s the entertainer of the group, giving the men each some individual snuggles and wandering around the room. She’s funny, flopping onto her back at a human’s feet so that she can get tummy rubs, spending an absurd amount of time sniffing one specific spot on one man’s jeans. They all adore her.

Life improves for Frankie when he has Charlie. He works shorter hours, spends time brushing her fur. He sleeps at better hours and cares for himself better as a result of caring for her.

He takes her on a jog every morning. At first, he was nervous to do it. It’s been a long time since he’s been able to pass those Special Ops fitness tests. The thing that encourages him most is that Charlie is just the same speed as him. She runs along happily on three legs at the perfect pace for Frankie to match.

Frankie lovingly refers to her as his copilot. She loves riding in the passenger seat of his truck, letting the wind from the open windows run through her fur. She gets excited when she hears the word truck and demands that Frankie snuggle her when they’re on a long drive. She even fell asleep on his lap once, with her face resting in the curve of the steering wheel.

Charlie is Frankie’s baby, and Frankie is her favorite human. The two of them are each other’s soulmates, Frankie thinks. His baby girl, his fluffy baby, his cuddlebug. His girl. His one true love is his dog, his Charlie.

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pascalpanic

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gwynrielendgame · 3 years

Text

Gwynriel mating bond

I have written another version of gwynriel’s mating bond snapping into place but I like this one better

They were well and truly fucked.

It was the only thought that coursed through Azriel's mind. They had been outnumbered by Hybern certainly. Even then, the courts were able to rally together and defeat the king. Unfortunately, it was nothing compared to what they were facing now. They had the geographic advantage this time though. The night court inner circle stood at the highest point as the war raged on below. Cassian and him were regrouping while also arguing over which strategy would work best. Of course, Cassian won that argument. He was the general of the night court armies after all. Amren, who was no longer of much use in a fight, stood watching over the battle. Azriel could have sworn her eyes tracked the summer court armies. Feyre and Rhysand were currently arguing over the best course of action while Mor, unhelpfully added her opinion every other moment. It was clear to Azriel that his high lord and lady also realized they were fucked. Feyre thought they should draw back and regroup, but Rhysand felt that would give the other courts enough time to back out completely once they realized this was an un-winnable fight. Azriel knew he should give his opinion, but he was much more focused on surveying the carnage below them. Koschei and his army had managed to wipe out most of the spring courts forces- unsurprising considering they were still suffering from Feyre's plans even all these years later, the Illyrian aerial forces have taken a large hit, and the winter forces were not much help in this summer heat. It was not something Rhysand or the high lord of the winter court had calculated for, but as it turns out, training all your life in the brutal cold made it much more challenging to fight in the summer heat. All things considered they still might have had a chance if the autumn court had not sided with Koschei and the dark-bringers had not denied Rhysand's request for them to fight this war. According to Eris, there was only so much convincing he could do with his father before all their best laid plans would be tossed away like trash.

"We are being massacred out there, Rhysand! If we do not withdrawal, we will die!" Feyre's frantic voice pulled Azriel from his trance.

"We will die if we withdrawal!" He shouted back. "Kallias will retreat to his lands to save his people and leave us even further outnumbered."

"I am with Feyre on this one." Cassian finally piped up. His decision may have to do with the fact that a deep cut from top of his thigh to knee was not healing as fast as it should be. He was struggling to walk which would not be an issue if he could fly but Azriel had seen a faebane arrow cut through one of his wings earlier in the fight.

Mor was not better off and if he was being honest with himself, his own siphons were starting to drain.

"What the hell do they think they are doing?" Amren squeaked. The unusual tone has the entire group staring at the second in command with raised eyebrows. Azriel even managed a chuckle at that.

The group finally looked down to where Amren was pointing, only for Azriel to feel as though his heart had stopped. Before he could consider anything else, Azriel launched himself at Cassian. He was only able to hold himself back by sheer will alone. Rhysand eventually joined in to help hold Cassian back.

"Let go of me." He snarled. "She is going to get herself killed down there."

Azriel kept his hold steady but let his eyes wander back to the battle field. A weight had settled on his chest and he thought he might suffocate. He could only imagine how Cas was feeling. He watched as the Valkyries rode in on horses at full speed. He had to give credit where it's due, the horses were a smart move. It gave them the height and speed advantage. It appeared a group of almost 200 priestesses turned valkyrie were being led by Nesta with Emerie and Gwyn flanking her. It was quite a majestic scene. One that he knew his high lady would try and recreate in a painting. The collision with Koschei's army on the ground was intense. Azriel wanted to watch to make sure his best friend, Gwyn, would remain unharmed, but Cassian was putting up too much of a fight. Finally, Mor did the only thing that would keep Cassian safe. She knocked him out with the butt of her sword. His body went limp immediately. Azriel grunted as he set his friend down. Cassian was much heavier than Azriel would like to admit.

Watching the three females fight was always awe inspiring. They worked so well together, it was as if they were daemati and could tell each other what moves they were planning on using. Azriel's eyes narrowed in on Gwyn as her dagger found its target. Her face was set in a determined expression that Azriel had spent many training sessions watching. He wanted to go down there to aid the female that had become his best friend in the last few years, but he was afraid that he might mess up whatever system the Valkyries were already working with.

"I am going to kill her." Rhysand groaned when he finally snapped out of whatever trance he was in.

"They are supposed to be with Nyx!" Feyre cried. Obviously, leaving the child with Elain alone is the priority that the high lady has latched on to. Azriel rolled his eyes.

"Well now we have to fall back." Rhysand snapped. Azriel understood why he was frustrated. It was unwise for the Valkyries to join without telling Rhysand. It completely changes strategic plans that could have already been in place. Luckily for them, there were no plans.

"I don't know about that Rhys," Mor added. "They are kind of kicking ass down there."

Azriel turned back to check and sure enough, they were kicking ass. Azriel knew they were highly qualified and that they deserved to fight in this battle. It's one thing to know that and another to send your closest friends into the heart of an un-winnable war. Even from this far away, he could feel as Gwyn's stare fell upon him. He looked toward her and suddenly the pressure that had encased his heart as he watched her on that field made sense. It hit him so hard it was like the wind was knocked out of him. He fell to his knees with a groan. Mor was in front of him before he could blink.

"What's wrong?" She sounded panicked but nothing mattered to Azriel in this moment than getting down to Gwyn and carrying her far far away. He realized how Cassian must have felt which had Azriel feeling like an asshole. He would apologize later.

"Mate." Is all he managed before he took off in flight for the red head. He had to dodge several blasts of power from enemies that seemed to appear out of no where. He kept one eye on the females though. Their fighting was graceful and brutal all at once. Nesta beheaded an enemy as Emerie shot a male that was aiming for Gwyn. Gwyn was busy using her shield to protect another Valkyrie from a thrown ax.

It was as though it happened in slow motion. With his birds eye view, he could see what neither Nesta or Emerie could see. He pushed himself faster. He could beat the male that was fastly approaching Gwyn.

"Gwyn!" He started to scream. "Behind you." She could not hear him, of course. He began screaming it over and over again. His feet had barely hit the ground when his mate finally whipped her head around to make eye contact. A mischievous smile graced her face, but Azriel could only focus on the male that was too close.

"Behind you!" He shouted once more. She turned quickly as Azriel began running full speed towards her. She did not even have time to raise her shield before a sword pierced straight through her stomach.

"No!" The strangled cry caught both Nesta and Emerie's attention. Nesta beheaded the traitor as he pulled his sword out. Azriel fell to his knees as he attempted to stop her bleeding. His hands were covered in blood after only a second of covering her stomach. He knew what it meant and it felt as though his heart was being shredded. Nesta knelt on the other side of Gwyn as Emerie protected them. Nesta grabbed for her face.

"You are okay, Gwyn. It's barely a scratch. Azriel is going to fly you to Feyre and she will heal you." Nesta's matter of fact tone began to calm Azriel. They had a plan. Gwyn would be fine.

"Fuck, it hurts." Gwyn managed to splutter out with a laugh. She coughed up blood as she said it. Nesta and Azriel shared a look.

"You are okay." Azriel was unsure of who Nesta was trying to convince by repeating that. He did not have much time to ponder that before the abrasive female turned to him. "You can fly her to Feyre right?"

It was dangerous. He would have trouble fending off attackers while carrying Gwyn. He had to try though. Tonight may end with all of their deaths. Given that there was not a safer option, he had to risk it.

"Hurry up." Emerie seethed as she shot the last of her arrows. She quickly switched to her sword as an onslaught of new enemies rushed towards them. Azriel adjusted Gwyn as he lifted her into his arms. Before he could take off, Nesta placed a kiss on her forehead.

"Nes!" Emerie shouted. Nesta went back to fighting and Azriel shot up into the air. Dodging attacks was much harder than he anticipated. He wished he could winnow but he had drained too much of his power to successfully accomplish that. An arrow skimmed the side of his calf when Gwyn finally spoke up.

"Mates huh? Who would have thought?"

"Shhh. Save your energy."

"I have always had a thing for you, ya know? I figured you would know since you are the spy master and all. Might as well tell you anyways since I am about to die." She rasped out. Her hand was resting on his neck and if he was being honest it made his heart skip a beat. Even if they were in the middle of a war.

"Do not say that." He found himself snapping. "You are not going to die. You are fine."

A small lovely smile from her distracted him for only a second when an arrow sliced through his wing and he felt them falling to the treacherous grounds below. He attempted to land on his feet, but the hole in his wing made it exceedingly difficult. He wrapped himself around her so that he could take the brunt of the fall. Azriel was already trying to reach out to Rhys to bring Feyre to them as a backup plan. They must have been busy because there was no answer. A warrior raced towards them with a sword. Azriel was too injured to fight as easily as he should have been able to. Before he could even rise to his feet, an arrow sliced through the females throat. Azriel looked behind him to see Emerie and Nesta racing towards them. A sigh of relief left his body.

“Gwyn, are you okay?” He had to check after their rough landing.

“Never better.” She choked out. He went back to covering her wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

“New plan. You are going to ride back with Nesta and find Feyre to heal you.” He was feeling frantic at this point. Gwyn would only get worse as the faebane worked its magic and he would not be able to live with the fact that he could not save her.

“Hey Azriel,” she had never called him by his full name before- only Shadowsinger or Az. “I love you. You have been my closest friend and I just realized I have never said it to you before. But I want you to know that I do love you.” Her breathing was harsh and her words came out raspy. Azriel had longed for the day to hear those words, but he knew that Gwyn was saying them as a goodbye and he hated that.

“Stop talking. Save your energy.” Another of Koschei’s fighters popped up only to be downed by another of Emerie’s arrows- she must have found more somewhere.

Two more charged towards them. Azriel ripped silver majesty from Gwyn’s holster and simultaneously threw her dagger and truthteller. It sliced through both of their throats. Nesta and Emerie were almost here. He just had to protect her a little longer.

“Az,” she began again.

“Stop distracting me.” He did not want to be harsh.

He promised he would make it up to her with sweet words when they made it out alive. She grabbed his hand roughly searching for his attention. The connection between their hands sent a spark through him. He finally looked at her. Blood covered her mouth and hands, sweat plastered her hair to her forehead, her eyes were looking a little glassy, and her pale skin was even paler than normal. He knew what this meant and could not stop the tears that flowed from his eyes.

“It is okay.” Gwyn whispered as her hand came up to caress his face. “I will find you again in another life.”

“Gwyneth, I lov-“ Azriel was interrupted by an ear shattering scream.

“No!” Nesta was looking behind them.

Azriel’s head whipped back to see a female charging for them faster than he could block in his weakened state. He accepted his fate then. Gwyn and him would find death together. He squeezed her hand tightly and waited. Nothing happened though. He looked behind him again to see the female had been taken out by a winter court soldier. He peered more closely at the soldier- only to realize he was dead. Nesta and Emerie finally reached them. Nesta was wearing the mask. Azriel knew this would end in disaster. Rhysand strictly forbid the use of the dread trove in this war. He knew that Koschei was searching for it and as long as it was locked away then it was safe. Nesta might as well have delivered it to him on his door step.

“Nes, what are you doing? Koschei-“ before he could finish though, Nesta was rushing to Gwyn’s side already cutting him off.

“Koschei won’t come near me as long as I have the one weapon that could kill him.” She pointed to Ataraxia- her made weapon that was sheathed on her back. Nesta grabbed Gwyn by the face, forcing her attention. Emerie stood guard again. It gave Azriel some faith that Nesta had a plan to save Gwyn.

“I am going to fix this, okay? Gwyneth Berdara I will not allow you to die today.” Nesta’s tone was final and absolute. Azriel finally saw the harp in her hand. He watched as Nes placed a kiss to Gwyn’s cheek and then she pulled the last string.

In the next moment, Nesta was forcing Gwyn to drink what appeared to be blood- Feyre’s blood. He knew then that the harsh female must have paused time in order to obtain the blood. What was no time at all for them, must have been forever for Nes. He noticed that the fighting had completely stopped. Whether it was because the undead soldiers were enough to overwhelm Koschei’s forces or because of something Nesta did during the time pause, Azriel would not ask until he knew Gwyn would live. Emerie was on her knees, lifting Gwyn’s head to rest in her lap. Emerie began brushing pieces of hair away while whispering something in her ear. Nesta watched intently while squeezing Gwyn’s hand. Azriel realized he was mirroring Nesta’s movements. He also was squeezing Gwyn’s hand while watching her intently. Her eyes were closed, but the wound on her stomach had finally closed. It felt like eternity before her eyes began to flutter open. A weight lifted off Azriel’s chest- an all-consuming weight. They all waited for Gwyn to speak before celebrating though.

“Hey.” She managed to cough out. Emerie shouted with glee as she peppered kisses all over her face. Nesta threw her body over Gwyn’s in a desperate attempt of a hug. Azriel felt the urge to shove both of them off and gather Gwyn into his lap for the worlds longest hug. He resisted though because he knew how Nesta and Emerie were feeling. It was how he was feeling- grateful for their best friend to be breathing.

“You are in so much trouble. I cannot believe you let yourself get stabbed!” Nesta yelled at her and then proceeded to hug her again. Azriel just squeezed the hand he still had a hold of.

“We are going to force Azriel to train you so much harder because of this just so you know.” Emerie cracked a smile as tears still poured down her face.

“Sorry.” Is all Gwyn could manage. Azriel could no longer hold out. He lightly nudged Nesta off of Gwyn, then he pulled her into him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and tucked her head under his chin.

“I fucking love you Gwyneth Berdara,” she pulled away to look up at him with big shocked teal eyes that were brimming with tears. “But if you ever pull that shit again, I will personally ensure that you train everyday for at least five hours.” She immediately started laughing. It was like music to his ears. His shadows, who had been moving so chaotically since the bond snapped in place that he chose to ignore them, finally calmed down. It was as if her laugh proved that she was going to live. One stray shadow reached out to caress her cheek. She sighed into it.

“Blame yourself,” she started joking which only eased the tension in his body even more. “I was distracted by the mating bond.” She pulled away to give him a genuine smile that tugged at the bond. It was so beautiful it hurt.

“Mating bond?” Emerie screeched. Gwyn laughed again. It was music to his ears.

Gwyn grabbed him by the face and pulled his lips to hers. He could hear Nesta and Emerie squealing- so in contrast to the battlefield they were currently sitting on.

It was by far the best kiss he’s ever had. The bond was singing as were his shadows. Blood that still covered her mouth was smearing onto his, their sweat was wiping off on each other, and the dirt caked onto his hands were getting in her braid as he held onto the back of her head. It was not the best circumstances for a first kiss, but he did not care. It was beautiful and magical and every other positive adjective that he could not think of. A swipe of her tongue against his was electric. His shadows had never sung to someone as they had her. They broke apart and the smile on Gwyn’s face was worth every hardship he had to endure to get to this moment.

#gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel #mating bond #mates #acotar #acosf

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serendipityjxmn · 3 years

Text

Mr. President

Chapter 19

TW: Violence, strong language, cursing

Words Count: 2.3k

Link to Masterlist

Link to Chapter 20

After your heated argument with Jimin, you find yourself in the small library room, the room that you often find solace in. You sit on the couch, hugging your legs tight before letting the sobs take over.

You set yourself into this. You fall for him even when you know it’s going to cause you pain.

For a long hour, you just cry yourself out until your body is exhausted and you just stare numbly ahead.

And that’s when you decided you’re going to leave.

You force yourself to sleep then because you know your body needs rest. But half an hour later you find yourself constantly twisting your body, unable to sleep as you wait for tomorrow’s morning to come with pounding heart.

When the morning finally comes, you pace back and forth in your room. You couldn’t sleep a wink last night. You lean against the door, listening intently.

Once you figured that it’s safe, you duck out silently and heads upstairs into the bedroom. You don’t see your husband anywhere so it’s a safe bet that he’s already out to work.

Wasting no time, you take out a medium size duffel bag and stuff several pairs of shirts and pants. You dig in the small drawer and takes out some cash that you had kept. For a moment, you contemplate whether you should bring your phone with you but then decide against it because you don’t want to risk being tracked by your husband.

You head downstairs and exit the house silently and from then on, it is fairly easy to escape. Your own bodyguard, Taeseok is nowhere to be seen and thus makes it easier for you to slip through the security as they probably wouldn’t think that you’re escaping.

You weren’t stopped until the front guards and you quickly lie about going to the gym with a friend and he doesn’t seem to be suspicious at all.

For a long time, you just walk and walk and just take random buses and sit on a bench at random parks, just watching people passing by, watching people who doesn’t seem to have any worry in their life although you know everyone is far from having zero complications in their life.

Everyone is working hard.

Everyone is working hard living their life.

And there’s you. A foolish twenty three year old girl, who’d married the leader of a dangerous mafia gang and ended up falling in love with him.

You find tears slipping from your eyes.

Jimin..

You wonder if your husband’s looking for you.

Or perhaps he’s decided to let go whatever it is between the two of you.

Had you just imagine it? Every little act that he does?

Perhaps you should’ve just said yes to your husband’s new proposal. Maybe that could’ve made things easier and you don’t have to deal with immense pain like this from heartache.

But you know that you couldn’t share him. You don’t want to share him with another woman.

You let out a long sigh. This wallowing-in-sadness is really getting nowhere.

You get up then and sees that it’s almost dark, dusk almost setting in with the yellow and orange sky. Somehow, you find yourself on the outskirt of Seoul after all those random routes you’ve taken. You checked into a small budget hotel after searching around the neighbourhood. You plop yourself on the bed once you’ve settled into the small bedroom, briefly wondering what you’re gonna do after this.

You don’t have any plan.

Let alone a huge sum of money.

You close your eyes for few seconds.

Nevermind all that. It’s okay. You’re okay. Everything’s gonna be okay.

You can start slow from the bottom. Find some low paying job and make your way from there. You resolve to go for a job hunt first thing tomorrow morning.

After you finish a long shower that night, you curl yourself on the bed. The mattress is rough, not at all soft and comfy like the one you’re used to sharing with Jimin but it’s okay, you don’t mind it one bit since you’re used to hardship before you even met him.

You marvel at the fact that you’re once again out in streets. Not far from before you met Jimin, really.

And your husband..

You feel a laughter of disbelief bubbles up inside you.

You left your husband. You made the decision to leave him when he couldn’t reciprocate the feelings he’d never promised in the first place so it’s a bit ridiculous that you’re missing him now right?

Unknowingly, your fingers trace your lips. It seems so vivid how your husband had kissed you last night. You’ve never been kissed that way before but then again, you’ve never been kissed by anyone.

You want to blame your husband for putting you through such pain but you know it’s not his fault. The marriage and the relationship you have with him is only temporary so he doesn’t do stupid things like falling in love or become emotionally invested because that would be a waste of his time.

He’d given you the choice yet you’re the one who chooses the wrong way and walks away from the opportunity he’s given.

But is it though? Are you making a mistake right now?

If you had just say yes, you could have everything you want.

Except his heart, of course.

Which is ironically the only thing that you want.

But you know deep down you don’t want to lie to yourself and to him.

It proves easier than said to find work in this small neighbourhood. It’s been four days and you still hadn’t find a job and you’re getting more anxious.

But no matter what, you still have to eat. You’ve survived not eating for days before and you can survive on minimal food consumption so this is definitely not a new feeling. Pursing your lips, you make your way to the grocery store and begins stocking up on several ingredients and paid for it.

You head back out, holding a bag full of groceries. After a few minutes of walking, you suddenly had that eerie feeling of being watched, a feeling that felt so similar to the one that you’ve experienced while at the charity function at Jaehyun’s house a week ago.

Shiver runs down through your body and you’re not sure if it is caused by the cold wind at night which is suddenly stronger or your growing paranoia.

Pulling your jacket tighter, you start to walk faster. It’s daytime, though bleak clouds are looming over you but it’s still bright. Nothing would probably happen in this broad daylight right?

You wish you were right.

Something happens really quickly just then. One moment you’re just turning the corner towards your block and the next moment, you see someone jumps out of a van and clasps your mouth and nose with cloth tightly.

And everything becomes black after that.

You didn’t faint, you think once your brain starts functioning. Perhaps only for a fleeting moment, you think. You blink several times but your vision is still blinded and realize your face is covered with a mask. The hum of the car’s engine and the slight shake of your body tells you you’re in the van you saw and you’re being transported somewhere. It’s quite a long distance and you try to think of possible places from the routes they’re taking but to no avail. You haven’t lived in the neighbourhood for long, it’s impossible to know where they’re bringing you.

The van eventually comes to a halt and suddenly you feel your body being dragged out. Your feet struggles to catch up as the person drags you over the rough gravel of the pavement, the cold wind making you shudder immediately.

“Who are you? Where are you taking me?” You ask and it’s obviously a mistake as a harsh slap lands on your cheek instantly. You wince, feeling blood forming on your lips.

“Shut up, bitch.” The rough voice says.

They make you sit on a chair, your hands tied behind your back. Your throat is very dry and you’ve no idea how long they’ve kept you there. You can’t see anything as your face remains covered.

At some point, you doze off and only wake when someone hit your cheeks, not too rough but still leaves a stinging pain. They uncover your face enough to give you some water and that’s it. You’re left alone again.

You’re not entirely sure if you’ve been hit again because the stinging pain on your lips and cheeks are now numb, you can barely feel them. You’re not sure if you fainted at some point either.

You hear some voices then. And despite the mask you’re wearing, you open your eyes to the darkness.

“Well, well, well.” A familiar voice. Too familiar.

And that’s when the mask covering your face is yanked away and your eyes struggle to adjust to the light.

“Hello little sister.”

Jay.

Your own brother.

Your eyes stare fixedly at him as he smirks at you. He looks pretty decent, his cheeks doesn’t sunk so much, his face cleaner and he dresses normally.

“J-Jay-“ you struggle to say, your throats is still very dry. You swallow several times and try to gather your voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Aww little sis, don’t take that tone with me. Don’t you miss me?” He leans forward and cups both your cheeks forcefully making you whimper in pain. “I’ve missed you a lot.”

You spit on him, forcing him to release you and with a look of rage, he slaps you hard on your right cheek. Your eyes widen when you see few drops of blood splatter on the floor. You think your lips had split in a dozen different parts.

Jay spits and then wipes his face clear. You look around and realize you’re in some abandoned warehouse and there are several other guys looking at the both of you with interest.

Perhaps they’ve never seen a brother so willingly hit his own sister.

“Why are you doing this?”

Jay tongues his cheek before smirking. “I know you’re living with Park Jimin now. You think you’re safe now that you’re living with him? Do you even know what kind of guy he is?”

“He’s my husband.” You answer firmly.

He laughs at that. “Husband? Funny how he can let his wife be kidnapped, huh? But that doesn’t matter. I need your beloved husband here.”

You grit your teeth. “Why?”

“You’re asking why? What- you think he can simply takes you as he wish? He needs to pay me before taking you. And if he doesn’t, I will sell you off anywhere. Anywhere that gives me the most money.”

You scoff. “That’s all you always think about. Money, money and money.”

“Don’t we all? You have all his money yet you won’t even share some for me? Some ungrateful bitch.” He spats.

He then lunges forward and nothing prepares you for another stinging pain as he hit you right on the cheek. “This is for leaving me bitch.” And then another. “And this is for being such a slut.”

You feel your vision momentarily blinds as your eyes roll out and you struggle to remain conscious. “Just kill me.” You croak.

“Kill? No no that’d be too easy little sister.. I want you to suffer what I suffered.. you’re gonna die.. eventually- oh you will. But being the good little sister that you are.. you’re gonna let me have my fun first, gonna cut your pretty little face first and then maybe your fingers.. and your cunt.. did you have sex with him already? Of course you did like the slut you are.. and then I’m gonna let all these men here fuck you and if you’re still alive by then.. we’ll see..”

“You’re psycho.”

“Psycho?” He laughs. “Maybe I am. Maybe after all is done, I’ll give you back to your precious husband and see if he’ll take you back..”

“No..” you say slowly. “He’s gonna come and he’ll tear your limbs before you could say my name.”

“Shut up bitch,” is the last thing he says before he knocks you out again.

The next time you wake, you hear a female voice in between male voices.

“Don’t you think you had too much fun with her? What if she’s dead already? Damn it, missed my chance to have fun..” the female says, her voice also strangely familiar.

The other guy you realise is you brother laughs. “No.. don’t worry.. this bitch is tougher than you think.. how do you think she’s survived years of my beating and still breathing?”

“Maybe you hit like a pussy.”

“God damn it, I wanna stick my cock into your mouth so you’d shut up bitch.”

You hear her laughter.

Your stomach churns and you have this sudden whooping feeling as your eyes finally refocus and widens in recognition of the said female.

Clara Kim.

There’s no mistaking her tall and slender figure, although her hair is now changed to blue color.

How is she related to your brother?

“Someone’s awake.” Clara says as her eyes meet yours. She takes several steps forward and leans down to stare at you from top to bottom. “So this is Jimin’s wife huh... no wonder he’s changed.” She says when she straightens again.

“Not gonna lie.. I like Jimin and so does a thousand other girls out there but I don’t demand his heart. I don’t do shits like relationship and so does Jimin but you- you little witch-“ she pauses then leans forward again, her slender fingers clasps your cheeks, turning it left and right, “Not so pretty now with all these blood and bruises huh?”

You stare at her in disdain. “He’s not gonna come. He doesn’t love me.”

“We’ll see about that.” She smirks.

He’s not gonna come, briefly you think.

“Just kill me, kill me!” You yell and someone knocks you out again.

Link to Chapter 20

Posted on 210514 9:00PM

#serendipityjxmn #serendipityjxmnmrpresident #mrpresident #mr president #bts fic #bts au #bts smut #jimin au #park jimin #parkjimin #kpop fic #jimin smut #jimin ceo #jimin mafia #bts mafia #jimin x reader

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brokenbutnotquiting · 3 years

Text

Say My Name

A Nace Oneshot where Nancy *really* loves the way Ace calls her name. (Because Alex Saxon makes it sound so damn enticing that I couldn't help myself)

I had always liked my name. Nancy Drew. Not so much Drew anymore, but it sounds better than Nancy Hudson. Or maybe that was just my habits talking.

In any case, I like my name. Nancy.

With the ever-growing confusion regarding my last name, it suited me better to opt for – what I call – the Ace option. Just casually dropping my last name until and unless it's an official or legal requirement.

For the very common folk of Horseshoe Bay, I am Nancy.

Just Nancy.

It was only after I realized and accepted my intense feelings for my best male friend – my partner-in-investigative-work – Ace, I often found my heart skipping a beat at my own name.

Purely because of the way he called it. Nancy. With that adorable lilt at the second 'n'. He probably never even realized that he did it, which made it all the more enticing.

But I would never tell him that.

__________

I ignored the screaming soles of my feet as I locked up the Claw. It was date night for George and Nick, and despite my best hopes, I was the one left in charge of closing up the seafood restaurant.

How had I ended up here tonight, I wondered sarcastically before a face flashed in my mind.

Ace.

How was it that most of my stupid impulsive decisions nowadays were because of him?

He had opted to lock up for the night, claiming to be happy to do it only if George allowed Amanda to stay with him.

"We haven't seen each other much since we returned from our road trip, and she has been asking me if we could just talk for a while without either of us running off for something or the other," he had said with a shrug.

Now, normally I am not a goody-two-shoes. Or a masochist. But seeing Ace with that utterly adorable little pout made my heart melt, and I jumped in to sacrifice my sanity to let him leave early. To be with his girlfriend, no less.

What can I say? Sometimes, I am just that much of an idiot.

Bess had side-eyed me so hard when I chimed in, I wondered how transparent I had become regarding my feelings for Ace. How did no one else notice?

But then, maybe everybody had noticed it at some point in time and had chosen not to comment on it.

Everybody except Ace. A sigh heaved out of me at that particular thought.

Ace was blissfully unaware. And thank God for that. I didn't need him to hate me for ruining his chances with Amanda. As much as I had rolled my eyes at his dopey smile that first time he had accepted his crush on her—almost endangering George in the process—I did want him to be happy, even if it wasn't with me.

Even if watching him fall for her tore my heart out every time, I thought about it.

Even if I was wrecking myself over him. Every. Damn. Day.

I looked around aimlessly. I only had to mop the floors one last time, and then I could leave. So I got the mop and the bucket— put on some music, and let my mind daydream about a life where I wasn't the girl one-sidedly crushing on her best friend as I let my body move on autopilot.

I didn't even realize that I wasn't alone until I felt the hair on the back of my neck rise, pulling me out of the daydream just before I got kissed.

I whirled around towards the door leading to the locker room to find him standing there.

Ace.

He looked angry. Really angry.

"Ace? What are you doing here? What's wrong?" I asked worriedly. Was someone in danger? Was there an accident or something?

"What's wrong is that I cannot fucking stop thinking about you," he snapped, his soft blue eyes flashing with barely concealed anger.

"What – what are you on about?" I stuttered with surprise.

His nostrils flared delicately. "There I was, with my girlfriend, finally spending some much-needed time together, and my mind kept reminding me that she is not you. That you are you. And that you are here. And I was so distracted by the thought of you being here alone with no one to protect you, should something happen, that I completely missed her telling me that she loved me."

He strode over to where I was standing, grasping onto the mop as if my life depended on it. The weight of his words, the complete and utter disaster of it all hit me at the same time he stopped barely half a foot away.

"Ace— ” I started and stopped. What was I supposed to say? Was there anything I could say that would help? Anything at all? It didn't seem so.

"There she was, looking all hopeful as she told me she loved me, and all I could think of was whether you were safe. Whether I would see you tomorrow." His voice held an undercurrent of fear. And I understood that.

After the Aglaeca and the Wraith and Everett Hudson and the threat of the Road Back still lingering, all of us felt overprotective of each other.

"I am not a marshmallow, Ace. I can take care of myself. At the very least, not drop dead while locking up the Claw," I joked half-heartedly. I admit that I might have intentionally ignored the part where he said he barely paid attention to his girlfriend. Or how my heart skipped several beats at it. I didn't need him more antagonized over my feelings for him.

"That's not the point, and you know it," he snapped. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes, before he continued, "my girlfriend told me she loved me, and not only was I distracted enough to miss it, I couldn't even say it back."

He shook his head, eyes still closed, as if he could somehow forget everything that happened. I understood that feeling as well. Sometimes, I wished the same.

"Why?"I asked him softly because I knew that was the part he wanted me to stress on. I knew him well enough to know his cues. I could play along.

He opened his eyes at my question.

"Because, as much as I like Amanda, I don't love her. At least not as she wanted me to. I tried, God knows I tried so damn hard, but I just couldn't," he explained.

I didn't ask him the question on the tip of my tongue again. I merely kept staring at him. Ace knew my cues as well as I did his. If he wanted me to play along, he could as well.

Why?

"She broke up with me, rightly so. She deserves someone who isn't already in love with someone else," he whispered, just loud enough to be heard over the music, "what kind of a pathetic person does that?"

Even then, my heart beating fast enough to rival that of a marathon runner, I stayed silent.

"Nancy." He whispered almost pleading, for what I didn't know.

"I love the way you say my name, "I whispered back as if in a thrall. Completely inappropriate? Perhaps. But a kernel of truth nonetheless.

He raised his hands, cupping my face so softly as if afraid that I would break under his touch. He touched his forehead to mine, his eyes closed again.

A slight tremble shook me at his touch. His breath ghosted over my face. "Say my name again," I whispered to him.

"Nancy."

He shifted his face a tiny bit and kissed my cheek. I closed my eyes at the onslaught of feelings his adoration elicited.

"Nancy," he whispered before kissing my other cheek.

"Nancy."

A kiss on my chin.

"Nancy."

A kiss on my forehead.

"Nancy."

A kiss on my brows.

"Nancy."

A kiss on one eye, and then the other.

"Nancy."

A kiss on my nose.

"Nancy," his voice took on an almost worshipping quality as he whispered my name but didn't lower his mouth to mine.

Tell him, I chided myself. Tell him that he isn't wrong in his feelings for you. Tell him that if he felt condemned about his feelings for you, then you shared the damnation with him.

"I love you, Ace," I said, tears escaping me, my throat raw with emotion, "I have loved you for a while now."

There was so much I wanted to tell him and couldn't. So much he needed to know. Another day, I reasoned with myself. I would tell him another day when we were both far more clear-headed than we were at the moment.

"I know, Nancy," he said softly, nodding his head, "I love you too."

And then he closed the gap between us.

His lips were soft against mine. Unhurried. Moving with a languid assurance that he knew what he wanted and wasn't afraid to claim it any longer. I played along with him, slow and steady, our form of normalcy until the heat growing in my body took over.

The kiss turned frantic as soon as I bit on his lower lip. His tongue was in my mouth, claiming me. He wanted everything, and I wanted to give it all to him. My tongue followed his, teasing him to a sensual dance of their own.

His hands, which were previously cupping my face, slid lower until one of them was grasping onto my neck – positioning my head as he wanted – the other grabbing onto my waist, pulling my body closer to his.

I let go of the mop, and it fell on the floor with a clang. I placed my hands on his chest. His heartbeat was strong and steady, if not galloping at a faster pace, under my fingertips. I moved my hands on his body, feeling his muscles flex subtly until one of my hands took a life of its own and decidedly wandered over to his hair, tugging on it as if he could come closer than he already was.

I don't particularly know how long we stayed like that, devouring each other like the last meal, but when we did eventually come up for air, I knew I wouldn't be able to let him go, and I told him as such.

His chuckle was like music to me. I opened my eyes just in time to see his smirk, "after a kiss like that, I should hope not, Nancy."

"Jesus Christ, Ace," I swore, "the way you say my name is my favorite thing."

His used laugh vibrated through me at that, warming my core but you know what? I didn't care.

"That's all?" Ace asked me playfully. No more stoicism. It was almost as if he had pulled back another layer of his surprisingly dazzling personality. I smiled at him in answer.

His answering grin almost knocked me right out. Damn! I really did love this man.

I didn't know what my face showed him, but the grin dropped off his face as he asked, "what's wrong?"

Ah. I must have been emoting the pent-up sadness I had repressed for so long.

I shook my head at him, smiling again. I combed through his hair with my fingers and let all of my affection pour into my voice as I said, "I didn't think I would ever get to do this again."

"Touch my hair?" Ace asked amused, quirking an eyebrow.

"Just be with you. Touch you without having to worry about offending anyone," I explained.

He placed a soft kiss on my forehead, pulling me into a hug, "You never really had any sense of personal space when it came to being near me, Nancy. That was just so you, I never really questioned it further. I was so scared of you putting up defenses against me that I purposefully ignored all the signs. Even when they were glaringly obvious."

He kissed my cheek and said, "I shouldn't have tried as hard as I did to deny my feelings creeping up on me for over a month. And I definitely shouldn't have chosen the easier way out with Amanda."

I shook my head at that. "You did what you thought was right for you," I said, somewhat sadly, "I remember your smile. You told us that she made you bloom."

"She did. For a while."He said. There was a trace of sadness in his voice. It would take time, I knew, for him to stop blaming himself for everything that happened with her.

"Take your time before you move on, Ace. Both of you deserve that respect," I told him.

"I will," he said, a small smile gracing his lips again, "but not tonight." I nodded my acceptance of his decision. Whatever he needed.

"Nancy," he whispered my name in my ear a heartbeat later.

The groan that escaped me was obscene, and I rightfully snapped, "Stop saying my name like that, Ace, if you want to keep your clothes on."

His answering kiss made my blood heat up and my toes curl in my shoes in an instant. I kissed him back with equal fervor. His hands started roaming, and I gasped into his mouth as he cupped my ass. He chuckled in response. A challenge.

Very well, I thought to myself. I dropped my mouth, kissing his neck softly before biting on it. An obscene groan escaped him. I smirked.

Two can play this game, Ace. And I barely got started.

I licked the spot I had bitten.

"I won't be able to even see straight if you keep doing this," his warning rang. I ignored the moan accompanying the statement.

I took half a step away from him and said playfully, "You need some space, Ace?"

"Nancy," he almost growled before yanking my body flush against his again and dropping a searing kiss on my lips.

Dear God, in the heavens above! I loved the way he said my name.

Nancy.

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tomurasprincess · 4 years

Text

Fairy Ring (Kurogiri x Reader)

Summary: You enter the realm of Faerie despite every instinct telling you not to, in order to save the life of your sick sister. But you make a mistake far greater than you can even imagine when you catch the attention of a truly powerful, dangerous Fae. Pairing: Fae Kurogiri x Reader Rating: Explicit+ Warnings: Fantasy AU. Noncon, dubcon, aphrodisiac, drugging, manipulation, coercion, stalking, yandere. Word Count: 5.5k Note: My entry for the BNHarem Discord collab! The theme this time around was fantasy AU, and I stepped out of my usual characters by trying Kurogiri. The full masterlist can be found here, so make sure you check out the fics from all of Special Note: Thank you to @thewheezingwyvern for being my fae lore expert, I could not have done it without you. And also for talking me through 7AM induced sleep delirium.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

This is a mistake, you know this. This is, in fact, one of the biggest mistakes you may ever make in your lifetime, assuming that you live past what you’re about to do. But you know that you have no choice. Your sister’s life depends on it. And for her, you would do anything.

And so with a deep breath, you step into the fairy circle. You feel a tugging at the core of your being before white hot agony lances through your bones. You think you scream, but you can’t be sure as you briefly lose consciousness.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

It feels like hours before your eyes open again, but in all likelihood it was mere minutes. It doesn’t take long for you to realize that it worked.

You’re in the Realm of the Fae now.

There’s a sense of unreality, a haze that makes you feel like you’re dreaming. Everything seems too bright, colors that don’t seem like they should exist in the real world, and what looks to be a purple mist covering everything you can see.

You’re standing in an open clearing, right on the edge of a large forest. Behind you, there is a large lake that looks so inviting that you just know something is lurking below the surface, waiting to pull you under, never to be seen again.

The forest doesn’t look much better, trees so close together that it feels claustrophobic, making it very hard to see anything that would approach you. You have no idea what kinds of things might be lurking inside, but this might be your best bet to find the specific plant you need to cure your sister.

And then there is the swamp that you see in the distance. The mud looks thick and deep, as if it would suck you right down into it so that you can do nothing but wait to die. The fog is so dense that you doubt you’d be able to see much beyond the reach of your arm, and in the depths of it you see pretty, flashing lights.

Will-o'-the-wisps, spirits that deliberately lead travelers off the paths to their deaths. If you go into that swamp, you worry you’ll never leave, doomed to wander around without ever finding the path back out.

Before you can come to a decision of where to go, you hear a strange whooshing noise behind you. You turn around to see something totally unexpected. A purple opening rimmed with black around the edges appears in the air as someone steps out of it. A portal, you realize, and so this must be -

He’s a very tall, slender being wearing a well tailored and expensive looking suit. But where a human face and hands should be is a swirling purple mist instead, leaving you no idea of what he looks like underneath. He has piercing yellow eyes that seem to bore right into the very core of your being.

“Welcome, human. May I ask what brings you to Faerie? We have very few of your kind coming here, and even less who come willingly.” The Fae speaks in a perfectly polite tone, but you know that doesn’t mean you can let down your guard. Everything and everyone here needs to be treated as dangerous.

“Greetings,” you nod politely. “I am here for a certain plant that I need to find.”

“Hmm, I may be able to help you find such a plant. What’s your name, human?”

Ah, you think to yourself, the very first trap the Fae intend to set for you. You know what can happen when you give a Fae your true name, and you have no intention of falling for this one.

“You can call me the Seeker.”

The Fae’s eyes seem to glimmer with amusement. “Cautious, are you? Very well then. I am called Kurogiri.”

He parrots your phrasing back at you, which means that it’s not his true name either, and nothing you can use against him.

“If you don’t wish to deal with me, then by all means, continue.” He takes a simple step away before motioning to the forest. “Were you intending to go into the forest? I wouldn't do that if I were you.”

The fact that he is deliberately leading you into a certain direction makes you reconsider where you intended to go. He notices your hesitance and gives a soft laugh. “I am not leading you astray, human. The forest is treacherous, and that you can be sure of.”

You ponder your options for a brief moment, before deciding to listen. At least with the swamp, you know one of the dangers you’ll face right off the bat. With the forest, there is no way to tell what you’ll stumble across. “I believe I will take the swamp, actually.” You give him a respectful nod as you take a few steps away from him.

“Please, be my guest.” He motions you in the direction of the swamp. You keep him in your sights as you walk past, worried that he’ll attempt something when your back is turned. But he makes no move to follow or stop you, and so you turn your back to him completely as you take your first steps into the swamp.

It’s very slow going, as the muck is so deep that you have to stop to pull your shoes out every few steps. The will o'wisps are hovering around everywhere, looking like delicate, beautiful lights showing you the way out. It’s a deception that you don’t let yourself be lulled into, deliberately choosing the paths where it is darker. Your world narrows down to simply taking a few steps, clawing your way out of the mud, looking for the plant you need, taking a few more steps, over and over. But nothing ever seems to change, and you seem to be getting no deeper into the swamp.

Finally, you can move no further, and so you stop to catch your breath. You’re exhausted, sweaty, and covered in mud and brackish water. You find a nearby tree to lean against and close your eyes for several seconds, trying to take deep breaths in and deep breaths out to calm your racing heart.

But when you open your eyes again, the wisps have surrounded you completely. There is no clear path anymore, the entire swamp cast with brilliant purple light as they fly around the area. You try to think back to the way things looked before you took a break, but everything is hazy in your mind.

You’re lost, with no idea which path to take to get out of this swamp, or even go back the way you came. Picking a random direction sounds like a horrible idea, but standing here and doing nothing sounds even worse. So with a deep breath, you pick a path and start to follow it.

Everything seems fine at first, passing through terrain not as difficult to traverse, but it quickly becomes apparent that this was not the correct way when you hit a patch of deep, thick mud and begin to sink in. You let out a startled shout, trying to claw for purchase, something to stop your head from being pulled under. But there is nothing, no way to get yourself out. Just as only your head and raised arms are visible, you feel something grab your wrist and begin to yank.

The strength behind it is unbelievable, and you’re out within seconds and looking at the face of your rescuer. The Fae Kurogiri is very hard to read, but you think he seems to be laughing at you.

“You seem to have lost your way, little Seeker,” he muses as he raises his arms up. You’re surprised when you feel a solid pressure against your cheek, running down along your jawline to cup your face. “Why not simply give in and make a deal with me? I could tell you where this plant is, easily.”

“And what would your price be?” You stare into those yellow eyes, a challenging tone in your voice.

“That would depend on exactly what you’re willing to give up, now wouldn’t it? Let us leave this swamp and we can discuss price and terms.”

Alarm bells ring in your head at his words. There is something very off about this Fae, something telling you that making a deal with him would be to your detriment. Maybe it’s his overly polite tone that seems to hide darkness underneath. Maybe it’s the fact that he is still gripping your face, pulling you tightly against him in a possessive hold that makes you feel like he never wants to let you go.

He must see your refusal in your expression, because his grip against you tightens imperceptibly before finally releasing you and stepping away. He makes a motion behind you, and you turn to see a portal opening up, with a view of the clearing that you came from on the other side.

You make a move to go through the portal before realizing something. Your backpack that you have been carrying with you this entire time is gone. You glance around quickly in all directions until you see the very top part of it sink completely within the muck that almost did the same to you. All of your supplies were in there, including the most important thing of all.

Your food and water.

Kurogiri lets out a deep chuckle at your panic. “Ahh, I see you lost your supplies. I could help you with that, as well.”

Your eyes meet his yellow ones as you narrow them. “You saw my backpack sinking, didn’t you?”

His silence is answer enough, and you shake your head and turn towards the still open portal. You go through it with him close behind and find yourself exactly where you expected to. Right at the beginning.

Remembering his words about the forest, you glance over at the massive lake and the faint sign of land on the other side. Your instincts scream at you that there is something horrific lurking within the forest, but you also really don’t want to swim.

“Before you go, you may want to hydrate yourself. The lake’s water is poisonous for humans such as yourself to drink.”

He holds a water bottle out towards you, and you simply cross your arms. “You must believe I’m incredibly stupid if you think I intend to drink that.”

“You will not believe me, but I am simply trying to help you. I don’t want to see you injured or wanting for a single thing.”

You glance back down at the bottle of water. It really does look good, you think to yourself. And you realize now how very thirsty you are. Would it be so bad if you took the water? You snap yourself back to reality before you can reach for the bottle, taking several steps back. “That is a kind gesture, but I must decline.”

You’re at the water’s edge now, glancing over to the land you see on the other side. You know of too many dangers that can lurk within bodies of water, and you have all but decided to skip the lake altogether when you see it. A beautiful looking flower on the other side, That could be it, you think to yourself, and it doesn’t look too far to attempt the long way around.

You begin to walk around the shore’s edge, not getting very far before your curiosity gets the better of you. You glance back at the clearing to see if Kurogiri is there or not. But he’s already gone, like he was never standing there at all

You turn back and continue to follow alongside the shoreline, setting a slow but steady pace so as not to wear yourself out. You’re not out of shape by any means, but you still don’t want to push yourself overmuch. As you walk, you try not to discourage yourself by staring at the land you’re heading for.

With the sun beating down on you and sweat pouring from your face, you truly begin to regret the choice of not taking the water Kurogiri offered. It could really be of use right now, with your tongue feeling like sandpaper in your mouth. Even worse, you’re starting to feel dizzy, occasionally stumbling forward before regaining your balance at the last second. Things are still fine, you try to reassure yourself, but you realize the extent of the trouble you’re in when you glance to the other side of the lake. You must have been walking for what feels like hours, and it’s not a single bit closer.

You turn back towards the direction you came from, only to have a moment of horror when you realize that you don’t see it. To that side is nothing but open shoreline as far as you can see. How could the land behind you have disappeared completely? You finally lose your calm, beginning to panic as you start to run, hoping that you’ll reach your destination soon. You only succeed in wearing yourself out even further, forced to stop as you pant for breath.

But that’s when you see the flower from earlier, looking even closer than you thought. That’s it, you think to yourself in elation, that has to be the plant you’re looking for. It isn’t so much farther, you could easily make it. But as you begin to walk again, your head swims even more, going completely hazy. You sway on your feet, barely keeping yourself up. When you open them again, there’s a horse standing by the side of the water.

It wouldn’t be so bad, would it? To ride the horse, get the plant, and then get back to the clearing where you started? It would be so quick, so easy. And then all of this would be over, your sister would be cursed, everything would be fine -

You come to your senses seconds too late to stop yourself from grabbing the horse. Well, not a horse anymore, at least not really.

It’s a Kelpie. Travelers have always been told to avoid Kelpie near the water, so as not to be pulled down into the depths. And you just grabbed onto the back of one.

You try and pull your hand off the creature, but it’s too late. Your hand won’t budge and you have a moment to curse your stupidity before you’re dragged into the water. Despite your best efforts not to panic, you still do, accidentally taking gulps of water into your burning lungs as you jerk and kick in an attempt to get away.

You’re going to drown, you think to yourself as you thrash about in the water, you’re going to drown and there is nothing that you can do about it, all because of your own stupidity -

Just when you think you’re going to drown, everything stops. You’re suddenly laying on solid ground, choking and sputtering as you take gasping breaths. You lay there for a few long minutes, simply gathering your bearings before you glance up at your rescuer. You know who it’s going to be, and you are proven correct as you see Kurogiri’s towering form lowering down beside you. He pets the back of your head, as if you were a dog that needs comforted, and coos soothing words at you.

“You’re okay, my little seeker.” He made a clicking noise with his tongue. “You truly should have known better than to try and ride a Kelpie. I can protect you, you know. Just talk to me for a bit, and I’m sure we can make a mutually beneficial agreement.”

You fly up from the ground, wrenching yourself a bit away from him. “No agreement,” you shake your head. “You want something from me, and I can’t figure out what.”

Kurogiri gives a long sigh. “I tire of this game. Things will go so much better for you if you let me help youl. But don’t misunderstand me. You will make the deal, one way or the other. So you may as well give in to me now, my little human.”

His demeanor has become different than before, more impatient and more annoyed. All of the alarm bells in your head are ringing, and you find yourself running towards the forest before he can say anything else. You are instantly surrounded by thick foliage, and as you glance back into the clearing to see if you’re being followed, the Fae and the portal are both gone.

You push through little by little, making your way deeper into the forest. Occasionally you have to make your way backwards to find another way forward, as the way is blocked by trees or thick vegetation that doesn’t quite look right.

You hope the instinct that you’re being led a particular way is wrong. But you have learned to trust your instincts, especially when it comes to the Fae. So when you emerge suddenly into another open clearing with Sluagh flying around, you’re not overly surprised.

You are, however, terrified.

The Sluagh are well known for their sadism, said to be feared by even Death itself. They are skeletal looking, so thin that there is barely any meat on their bones. What skin they have is dangling and loose, and their legs end in talons with razor sharp claws. Their mouths smile at you, filled with rows and rows of vicious, sharp teeth.

And right now, every single one of them is staring at you like you’re a delicious meal, waiting to be devoured. You know it’s useless to run, as they will find you even more enticing if they are able to chase you down. So you simply stay stock still, waiting to see what the creatures do and desperately hoping that they’ll get bored of you and fly away. But of course, that’s not in the cards for you.

In unison, they let out a shriek that sounds like nails down a chalkboard, causing you to cover your ears in agony. At least five of them rush you at once, and you brace yourself for the pain. But it doesn’t come, as the creatures lock their talons into your clothes instead and begin to lift you into the air.

Fuck, you hiss to yourself, you knew this may be suicidal to go into Faerie. You have faced so many of Faerie’s challenges and only survived by the help of one of them, and you knew it must only be a matter of time before your luck ran out. But you had no idea it would end this way, to be lifted up and dashed on the hard ground below. You squeeze your eyes closed when you feel them let you go, and you brace for an impact that never comes. Instead, you hear the distinctive whooshing sound before and fall into the arms of Kurogiri.

“I did tell you not to go that way, didn’t I?” His voice has a dark amusement to it, and you realize instantly that he knew the Sluagh were there and didn’t think to warn you directly.

“Yes, you did. And your assistance is appreciated,” you say carefully, fully aware that this is yet another trap. You never tell one of the Fae thank you, as they can take that to mean any number of things you’re suddenly obligated to do for them.

“You are welcome, my little seeker,” he chuckles to himself, sounding every bit like he knows exactly what you’re doing. “Will you accept my deal now? I can help your sister if you would only allow me.”

You squirm a bit in his arms, fully hoping that he gets the hint and puts you down, but he squeezes down as if he never wants to let you go. The thought worries you, there is one thing that worries you even more.

He knows the plant is to cure your sister. And you never gave him that information.

“I - I will think about it, if you’ll kindly let me go - “

“Ah, of course.” He sets you down on your own feet, and you finally get a chance to look around. He teleported you back into the same clearing where you started from and keep managing to return to. “Now, about the deal -”

Before he can finish his sentence, you are running in the only direction that you have yet to try. It’s another smaller section of forest that you hadn’t considered because it looked impenetrable. But now you see a way to enter, and you flee there without glancing back. The trees there seem to suck you in, darkness enveloping you. You wonder if he’s still somehow watching you before shaking the idea from your head. That way lie madness, and right now you must run, must hide.

You don’t know how long you run, only that your legs almost like rubber, barely able to carry you anymore. Your breath comes out in gasping pants as your lungs struggle to take in more oxygen. And your head is spinning, most likely from your lack of food.

Just as you’re about to reach your limit, you spot a large, wrought iron gate and a large house beyond. You don’t have any time to consider the implications before you’re rushing through the gate, stopping only long enough to lock it before you reach for your last resort. You’re not sure why there’s an iron gate here, as iron is one of the things that the Fae are joined together in their hatred of. But right not, you don’t care as long as it can protect you.

Just as you suspected, Kurogiri portals to the location just outside of where you stand. But rather than be deterred by the iron, he lets out a loud chuckle as he continues to walk to the gate. Your eyes widen as he gets closer and closer, a sense of deep unease crawling up your spine.

The Fae hate iron, you tell yourself, he’s simply bluffing, he’s not going to be able to get past the gate. And then the lock simply drops away, as if it’s nothing. The gates slowly slide open as he walks through, and there seems to be a look of true admiration in his eyes.

“That was a very good try, my little human. But ultimately, you lose our game.”

It all clicks into place at once. “You - you’re a dullahan,” you whisper in fear. The dullahan are widely feared, and for good reason. They are harbingers of death, and it is said that when they stop, a mortal dies.

“Yes, I am. And now there is nowhere for you to run. Simply give in to me”

You realize you have one single card left to play, and if this doesn’t work, then you are done for. You reach into your back pocket where you stowed your ring before entering the swamp earlier. You hold it up to him to see, and smile when you see him recoil from the gold metal. You turn and begin running again while he’s distracted, only to run face first into a portal he opened back up.

When you fall out of this portal, you are no longer in Faerie. It looks like home, just as when you left it before. Nothing appears different, except for one big thing. Your sister is out of bed, looking like she’s never been sick a day in her life.

“Is that - sis, is that really you?” You whisper in shock at seeing your sister, healthy and happy before you.

Your sister gives you a warm smile as she holds her arms out for you, just like she always did when you were kids. You grin and run into them, giving her a tight hug that you don’t ever want to be let out of.

“I don’t understand, I didn’t actually make a deal.”

Your sister gives her characteristic shrug. “I don’t know either, I just know that I felt something really warm come over my body, and suddenly I felt better.”

It must be Kurogiri’s doing, you think to yourself. You have no idea what you did to earn this, or maybe it was just that he was impressed you beat him at his own game? Either way, you won’t take it for granted. “How long have I been gone?”

“Too long. I was so worried about you, I didn’t think you’d ever come back.” She pulls you into another hug, and you smile as you run your hand down the back of her head. The moment is ruined by the sound of your stomach growling, causing you both to laugh. “Bit hungry, there?” She teases you, and you simply grin.

“Yeah, I ran out of the supplies I took to Faerie and then I lost my whole backpack. I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve had anything, to be honest.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll get you something!” Your sister runs off the kitchen to grab you some food. “Um, I’m sorry that we don’t have much, but -”

“I know, you haven’t been able to go to the store without me. It’s okay!” You take the simple sandwich she offers you, wasting no time at all before you’re devouring it. You didn’t realize how truly hungry you were until right this second. And this is easily the most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted. You freeze, blood running cold as you hear an amused chuckle from beside you, where your sister was just standing. A decidedly male chuckle.

You look down at the mostly eaten sandwich as you begin to tremble, dawning horror hitting you like a freight train. Beside you, what you thought was your sister has turned into Kurogiri. What you thought was your home has turned into that same damnable clearing.

Despite your best efforts, you were tricked after all. You never truly left Faerie.

And you just ate fairy fruit.

He pulls your trembling body tightly into his as he runs a hand down the small of your back. “My little seeker, don’t feel too bad about this. You did a rather good job of avoiding my tricks. I had to resort to more extreme measures.”

A tear runs down your face as he strokes your body. Forcing you to eat fairy fruit means that you’re trapped here with him now, forever. Completely defeated, you numbly allow him to lead you through the newly open portal, taking you to the house with the large gates. The place where you believed you won this little game, only to realize that he was always one step ahead of you.

“But the gold -,” you whisper, “I had the gold, why didn’t that work?”

He laughs a bit as he kisses you. You’re surprised that he’s able to, but you assume he must have some form of human body underneath the mist. “Not all myths are true, little seeker.”

He takes you into the house, leading you down several corridors until you reach a bedroom. He leads you in, shutting the door behind him. You have only a second to worry before he’s on you. Lips run down your neck as hands come down to grip your ass. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you, how long I’ve planned this.”

He rips your clothes off easily, piece by piece, until you’re shivering and naked before him. He lays you down on the bed, sliding his tongue skillfully into your mouth and massaging yours with his own. His hands aren’t idle either, tracing up and down your body in featherlight touches that has you writhing.

Everything seems almost dreamy, and you feel very warm. Overly warm, in fact, and it only increases the more he touches you. Your body feels like it’s on fire, your head spinning. You wonder briefly what he did to you, if it was the faerie fruit you ate.

“What did you do to me,” you whine as you continue to squirm on the bed, fire raging through your veins. “I feel - god I feel so hot, make it stop.”

But when his tongue licks up your heated, dripping pussy, you realize that it really doesn’t matter what the answer to that question is. You throw your head back and moan as you try to grind down on his tongue, and you feel rather than hear his laughter as it sends pleasurable vibrations against your throbbing clit.

“Don’t you want me to make you feel good?” He slips two fingers inside of you, curling them upwards and grazing against a spot inside you that has you throwing your head back onto the pillow.

“Yes,” you whimper, sounding more needy than you ever have in your life, “please make me feel good.”

“Your name then, little human. I can’t very well pleasure someone whose name I do not know, wouldn’t you say?”

“But what about yours?”

“You give me yours first,” he sounds so imminently reasonable that you give him a blissed out smile as you nod your head. You make a come hither motion with your index finger and he leans in closer as you whisper your name in his ear, and he gives a contented laugh as he works his fingers inside of you again.

“You didn’t tell me yours,” you whine a bit in protest.

“Mmm, I am Kurogiri, remember?”

You do remember him saying that, but you also remember not believing that to be his true name. But that part seems less important than him working his fingers inside again, and you let out a small gasp as you clench down, only to be left feeling empty when he completely withdraws. You’re about to complain when you hear him unbuckling his belt.

“I would much rather feel you cum around this cock,” he whispers as he sinks into your aching pussy, filling you up completely when he bottoms out inside. You let out a deep groan at the stretch, and the burning sensation you’ve been feeling since you ate the fruit abates just a bit.

And then he begins to move, and desire flares back up inside you. It doesn’t take long for your muscles to tense up, toes curling as you squeal when your orgasm overtakes you. “So sensitive,” he whispers as he simply fucks you through it, groaning when he feels you clamp down around him. “And so needy for me. It makes me want to keep you like this all the time, my pet. Would you like that?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant as you feel another orgasm building up, “Kurogiri, please keep fucking me, it feels so good.”

”My good little pet,” he grabs your hand and guides it to your throbbing clit. “Stroke that clit for me.”

You instantly obey, moaning loudly as you begin to rub tight circles on the swollen bead. You clench down around him as you cum again, liquid gushing out to soak the bed beneath you. His movements slow as he reaches his own end, filling you up with hot ropes of cum before instantly getting hard as he begins to fucki you again.

You lose all sense of time, only aware of the burning desire, and the twitching and thrusting of Kurogiri’s cock as he fills you up again and again. You can’t seem to stop cumming either, pushed beyond your limits and blissed out until finally all you can do is lay there and take it as he continues to ravage you.

Finally it’s over, and he collapses beside you as he pulls your back into his chest. “My precious little pet,” he whispers into the back of your neck. “I worked so hard to get you where you are now, into the realm of Fae where I could claim you.”

“And now you’re mine. Forever.”

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

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#kurogiri x reader #kurogiri smut #yandere kurogiri #mha x reader #mha smut #bnha x reader #bnha smut #yandere bnha #yandere mha #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #tw: kidnapping #tw: aphrodisiac #tw: drugging #bnharem collab

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