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btsmosphere · 1 month

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Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 1: the Light Dies

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: He’s the hero. Unfortunately for you, you’re not the villain.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 6.6k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, it’s sorta like a mafia au but they have superpowers lmao 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, minor character death, attempted murder, injury, loss of consciousness

a/n: I have to say thank you to @casuallyimagining and @bluewhale52 for betaing this chapter, although this might come as a surprise to them since that was maybe 3 years ago now?😅I'm really not sure how much my writing had changed since then, but you guys can be the judge of that as the future chapters unfold! In the meantime, enjoy! If you want more supercharged in your life, you can also search my supercharged tag to find some musings, rambling, gifsets and visuals etc that inspired me and kept me going while I lost my mind over this story!

Lastly, I present the supercharged playlist✨ I had a lot of fun making this – several songs align with plot events, while some of them are there for the title, the vibe, or even a single line! Feel free to guess which are which or come and chat with me about it👀

An ear-splitting roar was barely contained behind shuddering steel doors. Just down the corridor, your fingers still clicked away, unperturbed, at your keyboard.

Tapping your foot, you looked impatiently up at the clock as another thunderous bellow assaulted the air. If the full-length windows weren’t reinforced by your boss, Kuyang’s own design, they would be rattling in their frames.

Blowing to rid your face of a strand of hair, you returned to your work, not even sparing a glance towards the source of the racket. It was only around half an hour until you could leave work for the weekend.

Finishing your task, you turned to filing the correspondence on your desk as a few yells carried through the air, mingled with the monster’s uproar. Bills and business deals the lot of them, you tucked them away in their respective places to be dealt with next week – only to stop on the very last one. How many times had the postman ignored the very clear sign for no newspapers?

You supposed the city felt the need to remind everyone that there was some semblance of central control – not really of much concern in a workplace such as yours, mind. Glancing across the front page, you realised why. You didn’t have a tv at home, but you would have to live under a rock not to recognise your city’s most celebrated superhero. Bolt, the media’s beloved, had claimed another victory against some crazy start-up trying to build their own bombs downtown.

The hero’s blue-masked face grinned confidently up at you from the desk, while police led what looked to be two scruffy teenagers into the back of their van. But Bolt’s vivid presence eclipsed them in his suit that matched his bright eyes.

Not bothering to read further, you pushed the paper into the waste bin at the end of the table.

Just as you were tucking away the final bits of paper, your boss emerged, wiping his brow on a cloth that looked as dirty as his face. Smiling pleasantly despite his ruffled state, you rotated on your chair to face him.

“Frank’s all good and sleepy now,” he said, “if you could get him sent up to the chamber.”

“Sure,” you nodded, already getting up and straightening your jacket.

With nothing more than a weary nod of appreciation, he left for his private laboratory. This was through a series more armoured doors, to which only you and a small number of lab workers knew the codes.

He was a scientist. And you were sure he was unhinged, but the job paid well, so that was all you concerned yourself with.

In fact, you had got very lucky. You had been surprised when such a good position had become available and quickly given to someone as ill-qualified as you, with no references to give. But your lack of connections seemed of no concern, and here you were, finally making ends meet and no longer in fear of being turned out of your run-down apartment at the edge of town.

So you did your job as well as you could, worrying yourself over nothing except pleasing the odd man that was Kuyang.

Even so, it was still a little daunting each time you had to come face-to-face with one of his experiments.

Reaching the steel doors that had not long ago been seriously threatening their hinges, you took a breath. Holding your thumb over a scanner by the door, you plastered a confident smile on your face as you walked inside.

Affectionately dubbed ‘Frank’, a great lump of teeth and dark furry flesh several times bigger than you was sleeping in a pod at the centre of the room. Surrounding this were multitudes of screens showing graphs and readings you couldn’t hope to understand.

At the edges of the room, a smattering of other workers were slumped against the stainless steel lab walls, almost as rumpled as their boss had been.

A hulking guard, Taeyeon, stood near the entrance, and you quietly confirmed with her that Frank was under and secure. Nodding, you gestured to Taeyeon’s team, another man and woman with the same uniform and intimidating stature.

Together, you assembled in front of the tank that held Frank, Taeyeon typing authorisation into one of the computers. The others locked down the external doors, just in case.

Though it was a familiar sight by now, the opening of the pod always prompted you to run through your training. If you hadn’t read it in the documents you dealt with, you would not have known Frank was also known as Necrus X, a new prototype Kuyang was working on, although you could not imagine what for.

Kuyang had been sure to tell you how to knock out the creature if it ever came to it, though. There was a spot behind his ear, which was more of a ridge at the side of his enormous head.

With the pod open, a panel rose from the floor, taking Frank rotating upwards. You caught sight of the patch behind its ear, zeroing in on it. Just in case.

The smooth expanse of ceiling split then, a hole revealing itself as the roof shrunk away into the walls, leaving a clear path for Frank to rise to the next floor, where he was stored.

As effortlessly as the ceiling retreating, a smooth steel staircase emerged from the walls. You and Taeyeon climbed it, spiralling around the edges of the circular space until you drew level with Frank, now snoring on the upper floor. Here, the space was wide open like an empty art gallery, half the walls comprised of expansive windows, no lab equipment to be seen.

The floor closed up beneath you both and you walked around Frank, opening a secret panel in the wall. As before, you raised your thumb to a blank scanner – but got no further.

A deafening smash sent you crouching to the ground in panic. Livid blue painted all the walls in the space as shattered glass skidded across the floor.

You had thought that glass to be unbreakable. At least that was the intention. But when you turned, you were forced to believe your ears: the central panel of glass was completely blown in, all the others down the row cracked from the force.

At the same moment the glass had shattered, you could suddenly hear what before had been hidden behind soundproofing. Outside, there were shouts, screams, car horns and alarms blaring from every angle – and above all, sirens. Sirens wailing through the air like disembodied banshees, descending, apparently, on your building.

Shuffling along the floor, you peered past the sleeping mass that was Frank in front of you. Walking across the room was a man in a tight blue suit, the same hue crackling in the air around his hands.

Bolt.

Mind short-circuiting, you were frozen. What should you do?

What was Bolt doing here? Was there some kind of threat? The image of him should have brought you relief, even though you knew nothing of what the danger was, but you hesitated.

Only having the presence of mind to shrink back silently behind Frank, you looked between the beast and the control panel you had abandoned. But you had no more chance to move before a fearsome crack ripped through the air, another flash of blue, sending the hairs on your arms bolting upright.

Spinning back to face Frank, you were met with a thump. A body, falling onto the floor.

Though she was mostly obscured by Frank’s sleeping form, you stared in unbelieving horror at Taeyeon where she lay, unmoving. Breath accelerating in your throat, you moved at last, scooting yourself back and away. Closer to the wall.

First you lunged to sound the alarm, mounted inside the wall panel, which instantly lit the room up in throbbing red, blaring loud enough to drown out the sirens outside. Then your hand was fumbling across the scanner. You had to get Frank locked away.

The walls of the pod which safely contained Frank overnight began to descend, much too slowly for your liking. Whirling to face the room, your heart seized in your chest when the imposing figure of Bolt, now shaded purple by the red light, met your eyes.

A glance up at the descending walls. They were halfway to the ground by now, but you still had to enter the code to lock them down.

Bolt yelled for you to stop, barely audible over the dizzying noise of the warning siren.

As he strode towards you, you could only watch, pressing yourself desperately against the wall as if it could swallow you up.

Bright light cut through the imposing red as the heavy door at the opposite end of the room was thrown open. Bolt stopped, both of you turning to see Kuyang enter. His hair was still sticking up from earlier, a strange expression on his face that you hadn’t seen before.

Paying no mind to the maniacal smile that had no place on Kuyang’s face, you took the moment of distraction to scramble for the code lock.

Without a sound, the gap between the floor and Frank’s pod closed, and your fingers were already leaping to action, typing the numbers behind your back at lightning speed.

Kuyang was running now, a direct path towards Bolt. But Bolt turned back towards you.

You were nearly done, but his hand was raising towards you…

In a split second, your fingertip met the final key of the code. Almost instantly, it was ripped away as shocking blue light cut through the air. You felt the impact before you could even notice that it was aimed at you.

Hitting you square in the chest, white hot pain scorched through your every nerve as your body was flung backwards, powerless as a ragdoll sailing through the air. The collision with the cracked window behind was almost lost on you. More intense pain was writhing its way down each limb, making you cry out, uncaring about the rain-spattered wind that whipped about your face now.

But you could see shards of glass as they fell along with you, like daggers aimed at the ground.

Biting wind rushed in your ears, the sound crashing over you like waves. And just as a pan sizzles down off the heat, the ferocious attack of pain seemed to reduce just as fast as it had invaded you.

Your heartbeat was the loudest thing, booming over the insistent web of sirens and whistling air.

Breathing choppily, you screwed your eyes nearly closed, suddenly aware of the tempest around you as you fell. Above, the already darkening winter night was illuminated with flashes of that awful blue.

You were falling.

It hit you then, as if you hadn’t been falling all this time. But it was only now that your senses caught up with themselves. You worked on a very high floor of the skyscraper, but as you were tossed around in the air, you saw the ground rapidly approaching.

A horror gripped your chest like nothing you had ever felt before.

Below you, and rushing towards you at terrifying speed, a skip sat surrounded by heaps of trash on the street. Unable to think, you could only shield your face with your hands, stretched out in front of you as if to stop the inevitable collision.

Though your eyes fell closed, you felt the jerk that flung your whole body backwards.

That wasn’t what you had expected.

Eyes snapping open in confusion, you found your vision lit with blue. In front of your face, blue light was shooting from your palms, pushing you up and away from the ground.

Your mouth fell open. Gaping in shock, you did nothing as the light died and you slowed again in the air.

Though you began falling much slower this time, you barely had time to notice your surroundings – much nearer the ground – before you were plummeting again, and this time nothing could stop you.

Your eyes weren’t even open when you felt your body slide off something. Not a second later, you were crumpling onto hard concrete which grazed your cheek.

You groaned.

It was dark. High above, any flashes of light didn’t reach you here, having landed in a thin alley beside the building. And though this shielded you from the commotion on the main streets out front, sirens still pierced the air, each one feeling like a stab to your head.

You clutched it as you maneuvered to sit. It took you a few tries, groping for a wall or something to lean against as you regained your balance.

Eyes cracking open, you waited patiently for the dark splotches to dispel before looking around.

Right next to you was a car which blocked you from view of the road beyond this alley. Evident from the dent that caved in its bonnet, that was what you had landed on.

Turning your head, you had to squint even more as light assaulted your sensitive eyes.

Among a blazing light, you could make out the vague shapes of rubbish bags and an overflowing skip that you recognised. Out of these, a vibrant fire was now burning. The correlation was too strong for you to ignore.

Breath shallow, you turned your horrified gaze to your hands.

They had done this… but how? They looked totally normal now.

Frowning, you brought them up closer to your face, so that your nose was practically buried in your palms.

No difference.

You were sure you hadn’t imagined that blue light which saved you earlier. Was there a way to make it come back?

While you were puzzling, you lowered your hands again, still staring intently as you rotated them in your lap.

Then, quick as a blink, a blue flash darted from them again. So fast, in fact, that you had no time to react before one of the bolts was fired directly into your opposite arm.

Snatching it away reflexively, you hissed in pain as a burning sensation crawled, tingling, over your skin there.

Despite the pain, the blue light didn't cease shooting from your hands. They tingled, a strangely uncomfortable sensation. It was as if something warm was wriggling its way up your veins and spilling from your fingertips.

“Stop! Stop!” you whispered in panic.

You turned them outwards, aiming away from you, but if they kept at it for much longer you were sure to draw attention.

Moving your hands around jerkily, the beams of light shook along with you, but did not go out. With each unsuccessful movement, panic made you more frantic until the glowing rays jerked erratically around the small space.

Straying too far, the light came into contact with a post at the alley’s entrance. You could only watch, helpless, as light like blue snakes skittered up it and latched around the wires it supported.

To your relief, the strange current seemed to have found an outlet, and only remained a second longer before cutting out. You were left blinking in the relative darkness. Panting heavily, you stared down at your hands, although you did not bring them too close anymore.

Once again, they appeared utterly innocent. There was nothing to suggest they had just channelled lightning through them.

Suddenly, the world plunged into darkness. The fire still burned at the other end of the alley, or you would have been left totally blind. In the building behind you, in the street, all the lights had gone out.

Almost instantly following the blackout, screaming rose again in the air.

Gulping, your eyes travelled to the blackened post at the corner, which you had accidentally electrocuted.

This was bad. Your head was spinning, both from your short, hard fall and from the whirlwind of events that had happened in what could only have been minutes. Surrounded by darkness, with the wail of the city and a fire for company, you could only see one course of action.

Run.

You had to get away from here. It wasn’t safe. You had little idea where was safe, but you couldn’t be here anymore.

It wasn’t like you had anyone to call who would care enough to come and pick you up. Nor did you have the money to try a hospital, though you felt as if you may need it.

But especially with electricity shooting from your hands at the drop of a hat, it probably wasn’t best to be anywhere around people.

The dizziness from your unfortunate landing on the car had worn off while you were sitting, but the world swayed anew the moment you made to stand. Pushing determinedly against the wall, you struggled on anyway, brand new dark spots in your vision offset by the brightness of the fire you walked towards.

This end of the alleyway led out through smaller streets, away from the city centre and furore of sirens.

On reaching the opening, you cautiously assessed the road stretching away either side. Empty. And if there was anyone there, they wouldn’t see you in this darkness.

Shoving your hands beneath your armpits on some misguided hope of keeping them from causing problems, you lowered your head and ran. It was more of a jog, considering everything, but you still moved as quickly as you could beneath the dead streetlamps.

Head throbbing more with movement, you stumbled a few times as you went. The pavement tilted around you.

You had made it a few roads before you felt that awful tingling in your arms again. It itched, like something fighting its way out of your skin.

Nausea rolled in the pit of your stomach. This couldn’t be real.

Slowing down and stopping beneath a signpost, you drew your shaking hands out in front of you. The world careened on its axis, revolving around the sight of your palms as a faint blue glow grew in them.

You were going to throw up, you were sure of it.

You wanted it to stop.

A few flickers of blue darted down the veins in your wrist. Towards your fingertips. Sparks leapt from them, small tendrils of lightning crackling between your fingers like webbing.

At last, you gave in to the rising horror mixed with a sick feeling. The floor’s spinning became too much, your hands turning to a bright blur in the centre of your vision.

You passed out on the spot.

Lights were turning on again around the city. Television sets flickering back to life to announce Bolt’s victory against the beast that had attacked earlier that evening.

But not on the street where you still lay.

The return of light only reached neighbouring roads, dim glow snuffed out before it could penetrate the middle of this street. A white-haired young man stepped forwards, but his face was totally obscured in darkness.

“Here,” he spoke to the silence.

The next moment, a deep red glowed in the middle of the road, though it brought little light. The red bounced off a signpost before it was gone, replaced by another man, seemingly from nowhere.

The newest arrival stood there, looking down at your figure, unconscious by the sign. Then he disappeared again, leaving total darkness behind as if he had never been there at all.

A few more moments passed, you and the hidden man the only beings on the dark road.

Not very long after, a car’s engine rumbled and sputtered into earshot. The bright beam of headlights rounded the corner, growing larger and shedding light on your form as it drew closer.

Pulling up next to you, the engine died along with the lights. Two doors opened and slammed shut.

As two pairs of feet stepped nearer to join the one remaining beside you, the streetlamp directly overhead began to glow. The faint glimmer grew until it illuminated the scene. Still no other lights joined it, leaving the small group of you lit up as if by spotlight.

“It’s her?”

The man crouching beside you asked the question without looking up, and the shadowed man answered.

“Pretty sure.”

“She’s breathing?”

“Yes.”

The crouching man hummed. Moving to kneel instead, his eyes roved over your somewhat battered face, dark hair obscuring his own.

“Namjoon?” he asked then, turning to the other man from the car. It was the same man who had momentarily appeared in the street earlier.

Taking his cue, the tall man, Namjoon, walked forwards and bent to lift your hands by the wrists. In just moments he was placing them carefully back, nodding.

“No doubt.”

“Okay then.”

“Can she travel, Jin?”

“Give me a moment.”

Producing a small object, he pressed a button and a small light sprung from the end. Carefully lifting one of your eyelids, he shone the light into it, observing like a doctor.

The first you became aware of was the far away sound of voices being quietly exchanged. But with the cloudiness in your head, identifying them didn’t seem very urgent. You were preoccupied with the swirling feeling that made the world swim around you, even though it was dark.

But as dim awareness was returning to you, the process of regaining your senses was violently accelerated as a blinding light was thrust into your vision.

You flinched, and as Jin pulled away he saw you blink, eyelids screwing shut in protest. His eyebrows raised in slight concern as he watched your first groggy movements.

Blinking around at the dimly lit figures over you, your eyes widened. The nearest man held the illuminated light stick. Was he a doctor?

Next, your eyes darted to the tall man standing behind him. You recognised neither.

Some strange feeling told you someone else was standing there too, but when you looked to your other side you were faced with nothing but empty shadow.

“Can you sit?”

The first man’s question was gentle, his hands ready to support you.

Nodding timidly, you heaved yourself up with his help. It embarrassed you to be panting after just that much movement.

“What happened?” came the next question.

As you replayed the events, you avoided their eyes. You could not let them know what happened, what you had become. They were helping you, and yet you might hurt them-

Fists clenching subconsciously, you stuttered in panic.

“I-I can’t pay,” you told them, but before you could say more a new voice was speaking. The standing man stepped forwards, his voice calm and surprisingly friendly.

“There’s no need to pay. We can help you. Can you tell us what happened?”

“I don’t, uh, I-I-“

His eyes travelled towards your hands, which you were trying to tuck behind you.

“You gained powers, didn’t you?”

You froze.

“I have them too,” he smiled, “I know what it’s like to be scared. But you can work with this and learn to control them. I’m Namjoon, and this is Jin. We’ve been through this before, we can help you.”

At your sides, your hands relaxed. Tension lifted from your tightly hunched shoulders. Wordless, you looked between the men who were watching you, ready to move, but only on your word.

Swallowing, a light frown creased your brow.

“What do you want-”

Namjoon’s smile dimmed into something kinder.

“At least let us check you over.”

Your hands fretted together. It was strange, you couldn’t feel anything there. Surely they should feel different? How would you know if these… powers, Namjoon had said, were to come back?

“You won’t hurt us, don’t worry,” he seemed to anticipate your thoughts as he watched you, “we can protect ourselves.”

“You were unconscious,” Jin spoke, drawing your perplexed gaze back to him, “did you hit your head?”

You blinked, but found yourself answering.

“I think so.”

Nodding, Jin shuffled at your side. He leaned a bit closer.

“I need to shine this light in your eyes again. You may have a concussion.”

Complying, you sat through the eye-watering brightness. He asked you things, like a doctor would, except he was working in the middle of an empty street in the middle of the night.

“Do you feel dizzy?”

“I did. I think still, a little.”

“Any nausea?”

“Yeah… but maybe because of the…” you gestured to your hands.

Jin sat back, taking the light with him. Namjoon shot you a sympathetic smile at that. You supposed he had been through the same thing, from the sounds of it.

Jin looked up at Namjoon.

“It looks pretty rough. Definitely a concussion, and she needs patching up, but in the long run she’ll be fine.”

“I-I’m serious,” you interjected, “I don’t have the money for hospital…”

Your voice faltered. You half thought of asking to just go home, but you were hardly sure of even making it there by yourself. And if you got there, then what? The prospect of burning down the place with these errant powers didn’t fill you with comfort.

“Good thing we’re not going to bring you there, then,” Namjoon said, “but I meant it when I said we could help. We can take you home, if you want… but you can stay with us, too.”

You stared at him wordlessly. Was it crazy that you were considering this?

“Just for a bit, if you need,” Jin added softly, “it’s just… now might not be the smartest time to be alone.”

You chewed your cheek. But your head was pounding too much to think very hard, and this seemed like the most straightforward option. The people in this city kept surprising you, after your first stroke of luck with Kuyang's generosity.

“Sure…” you spoke quietly, not quite able to look them in the eyes, “yes please.”

“Okay,” Namjoon took it in stride, “but let’s get moving.”

“Just one moment – we should wrap that.”

Gesturing towards your arm, Jin stood and went back to the car. On his return, he knelt again and began to secure cling film around the angry red blotch blistering your skin, where you had caught yourself with your own beam.

“We’ll sort it out properly when we get back,” he told you, “but Namjoon’s right, we should be going.”

You followed his gaze which seemed to dart up and down the street. However, nothing was there.

Jin helped you stand, still looking around. Sure enough, the dizziness from before hadn’t quite left you yet. Biting down on your lip, you focussed hard on getting the short distance to the car. You were led to the passenger seat and crumpled gratefully into it.

But just as Jin closed the door, you felt an uncomfortable prickling clutch your forearms again. Namjoon slid into the back seat in time to hear your gasp, noticing the way your fingers flexed in panic. Digging in his pockets, he produced a pair of thin black gloves and held them out to you just as the first trickles of blue appeared in your veins again. He watched with a studious frown as you pushed your hands into the gloves.

“Those will help,” he said, still looking at your wrists, “they can contain the powers. But you shouldn’t keep them on for too long.”

Jin was seating himself in the driver’s side as you frowned over at Namjoon. At first you had been relieved to have a solution to your erratic lightning problem, but that was ripped away at his last addition.

“Why not? It will keep you safe,” you questioned, but kept your voice quiet.

“Don’t worry, we’re more than capable of handling anything you could throw at us,” he laughed, “but you can keep them on in here. Best not to bottle up your powers forever, though.”

Resigned, you turned back to face front. The moment Jin stepped on the gas, all the lights in the road sparked to life at once. Startled, you blinked, looking around. On the pavement you were just pulling away from, a man was walking away, unidentifiable behind a hoodie.

Slumping back in your seat, you breathed a short, dry laugh. This mysterious happening was just the latest in this crazy night. You had no choice but to accept it.

The car ride was fairly short, but you were too tired and distracted to take in exactly where you were going. Streets seemed to blur together, aware only that you were heading out of town.

The itching in your arms had persisted for a while, but as promised, the gloves seemed to work. No fiery blue burst out of your palms, and, eventually, whatever it was decided to give it up, subsiding again by the time the car pulled up.

But no one got out yet. Jin had stopped at the end of a small road, big enough for only one vehicle, directly facing an expanse of crumbling and graffitied brick.

Curiosity woke you up from your daze, and you watched as Jin reached to tap something on his dashboard. Almost instantly, a groaning reached your ears from over the whirring of the engine. The wall ahead shook before shifting, sliding sideways until it tucked itself behind a dented dustbin, unveiling a space beyond.

Leaving you little more time to wonder, Jin started the car again and you rolled downwards through a plain, dark entrance. It reminded you of those multi-storey car parks formed with ugly blocks of concrete. It was considerably smaller than those, however, Jin pullingup into a space alongside about a dozen other vehicles, beyond which the place seemed entirely deserted.

Jin came around to open your door, but you were able to stand by yourself. It was still a bit of a struggle, your limbs sluggish and the world dull around you – although that may have just been the low underground light.

Namjoon led you, Jin staying close by your side. Blinking at the space as you moved through it, your eyes traced over the various car roofs, some cleaner than others. A larger four-by-four was particularly beaten up, with a large crease in one of the metal wheel arches.

Your eyes rested longest on what was probably the most pristine: a motorbike, at first hidden by the cars either side of it.

Soon enough, you were past them. Stopping as Namjoon did, you watched him expectantly. However, he did not turn around, instead standing face-to-face with a plain concrete wall. Except… now a low rumble announced the movement of a panel which slid away, revealing a wide doorway which had previously blended seamlessly with the flat wall.

Your eyebrows raised at the touch that was reminiscent of Kuyang’s lab. Without time for you to dwell on this, your small group moved up a dingy staircase that lay beyond the doorway.

At the top, you emerged into a new space, notably lighter than before. You assumed you were back on ground level, perhaps above. It was hard to be sure, disoriented as you still were in the whirlwind that had overtaken your day.

Bizarrely, the space appeared to be someone’s home. There was a large and coffee-stained table surrounded by mismatching chairs, a kitchen behind it littered with mugs and pot plants. Still, beyond the lived-in array of things lying around, it was big. You imagined it must be miles more expensive than the shoddy apartment you stayed in.

It was open plan, and you followed Namjoon past the dining table towards an area filled with two enormous sofas.

The back of a blond head was visible over the sofa, and now the person turned towards you.

“Guys!” a loud exclamation rang out as he leapt up. A dazzling smile spread across his mouth.

When his eyes fell on you, wincing at his sudden volume, the smile dimmed a little.

“Not so loud, Hope-ah,” Jin spoke gently from behind you.

“Sorry,” he dipped his head, smile remaining on his lips.

Jin’s hands came lightly to your back, steering you over to a sofa. As you sunk into it with relief, the blond man sat across from you, tilting his head to catch your eye.

“I’m Hope,” he smiled, “I’m glad we found you. You’ll be right in no time!”

Frowning, you couldn’t help but notice his eyes flicking over the damage on your face. Averting your gaze, you chewed your lip absently.

What did he mean? I’m glad we found you…

Had they been looking for you? You still weren’t sure if it was a lucky coincidence they found you, but perhaps it was something more.

The lingering ache in your head forced you to push the issue away. You missed Namjoon’s stern look at Hoseok as he hovered behind your seat.

Jin pulled a pack from a cupboard and set it beside you. You let him lift your arm and unwrap the burn, your unfocussed eyes dragging across the room while he applied something cold over it. Next came stinging, scattered over your face as he wiped at the small cuts and grazes with an apologetic grimace you barely saw.

You only forced the world back into focus when someone else entered your sight. Emerging from behind you, a gentle, friendly smile was directed your way from a man with pale pink hair. Swallowing, you never managed to smile back before he was turning away.

The pink-haired man reached a hand out to someone you couldn’t see. Another man appeared, walking towards him, but he never looked at you. Or if he did, it was obscured behind the black hair that fell to his eyes.

The two new people left towards the kitchen, though not without another smile from the pink one.

Who were all these people?

Frowning after them, you were interrupted by a clap on the shoulder from Jin.

“We’ll talk more in the morning. You need to rest.”

Looking around, you had half a mind to protest, but were overruled by the shakiness taking over your frame. Body too fatigued to allow you much say, you meekly followed Jin.

Beyond the living space, a thinner corridor led away, several closed doors along its walls.

Further you went, until a door just ahead opened. Another person walked out.

When he stopped to face you, his posture remained stiff. Tall and muscular, he was clad all in black except for a towel slung over his shoulder. Damp hair fell messily around his head. But you had little time to take this in, as his eyes fixed themselves fiercely on yours, rendering you unable to look away.

Mouth remaining in a hard line, his expression only twitched further into a frown.

Then his gaze flicked abruptly away, travelling to Jin just beyond you.

“Kook-“

Jin never got further than that before the man strode forwards, marching sharply past you and away with a scowl. Turning after him in surprise, you watched his tense shoulders disappear behind Namjoon, who you hadn’t noticed hovering.

Namjoon stared sternly after him, but the man seemed to avoid his gaze.

Jin sighed, sending an apologetic glance at you.

“That’s just Jungkook,” Namjoon spoke, ushering you all further along the hallway, “don’t pay him any attention.”

“Why was…”

You trailed off, unsure of what exactly to ask. Neither of them made an attempt to answer.

You had no idea a wordless encounter could leech so much hostility into the atmosphere. Picturing Jungkook’s glowering face, you blindly followed the others through a different door.

“You can sleep in here.”

“Hm?”

Shaking yourself, you looked around the new room. There wasn’t much to see. Beside a low bed, there was a mirror, a wooden closet and nothing more. Looking up, you didn’t even find a light in the ceiling. The only light leaked through from the hallway.

Clearly reading your gaping mouth and furrowing brow, Namjoon moved in front of you.

“Don’t worry, this is just a place to sleep, nothing more. But since you’re going to have to take those gloves off, we can’t have you in a space with any electricals.”

Stepping back defensively, your fingers pressed tightly together. Having the gloves on had let you almost imagine that nothing life-changing had happened. Like gaining unpredictable powers, for instance.

Namjoon watched patiently, holding out a hand.

“You don’t need them…”

He realised he had never asked your name, and let his sentence trail expectantly. Telling him your name, he relaxed into a smile.

“You don’t need them, Y/N,” he repeated, not that you believed him for a second, “you’ll be perfectly safe. And so will we.”

Only the yearning to collapse onto the bed persuaded you to hand over the gloves. The instant they were in his hand, you swore you could feel a shock go up your arm. Immediately tense again, your breathing became shallower, with no idea how to try and stop power shooting from your hands any moment.

But Namjoon and Jin seemed content. Before you could gather your thoughts, they had left, closing the door and drenching your room in near total darkness.

Stumbling to the bed and virtually falling into it, you wiped sweating palms against the fabric. Your mouth was dry with fear.

This couldn’t have happened.

Alone for the first time since your initial panic, it didn’t take long for your mind to wrap itself in circles again. Only hours ago, you had been sitting happily in your bright office, going through the motions…

One split-second decision from a powerful man had changed that.

You knew full well he had intended for you to die. But he was Bolt...

He had probably forgotten about it already. The guard he sent lifeless to the floor, the secretary he threw from the building.

Itching feeling returning, you swallowed desperately and raised your hands. Sure enough, against the darkness, blue pierced your vision, darting its way up-

Turning your face away, you flinched as the outburst came. Your eyes screwed shut, you pressed your cheek into fabric, not wanting to see the deathly lightning that shot through the room. Shuddering breaths broke into your lungs when at last it subsided.

Letting them fall, limp, to your sides, your hands fisted the covers tightly.

You were almost afraid to open your eyes, knowing it would only show you the empty room, confirmation that this was real. You were dangerous, shut in a safe room where you could hurt no one. Would you ever get out? Succeed in controlling this, like Namjoon had said?

With no idea where you were, barely any idea who the people here were, you wanted to block it out. But even with your eyes closed, you couldn’t escape.

The memory of Jungkook’s suspicious face made your heart sink. Perhaps people should be afraid of you, now. As much as you may want to, there was no getting away from this.

Pushing yourself to sit, you surveyed the room. Eyes accustomed to the blackness a little more, you could make out vague shapes. Your breath fell alone in the silence. This really was the safest place you could be right now, even if it was a nightmare.

As your head turned, you suddenly came level with your eyes in the mirror, and a shock of light.

For an extended moment, you could only stare.

Then all at once you were rushing forwards, tripping from the end of the bed. Bracing your arms against the wall either side of the mirror, you gaped at your reflection.

As you watched, an angular bolt of blue shot across your irises, which were already dimly glowing.

You gulped against the thick feeling crawling up your throat. Faced with this, you could no longer have any hope of denying it.

This was really happening.

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runningfrom2am · 5 months

Text

cold nights // part seven

summary: all the stars aligned, and it was you.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.5k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: guyssss omg this part AHHHHH

series masterlist // playlist

After your interview, Coriolanus insisted on being discharged so he could go home. If rest was all he required, he could do that at home, is what he told the nurses.

As soon as Tigris had gotten him home and retired to bed herself, he was quietly getting dressed again. If the arena was still going to be used even after the bombing, he had to see what that would mean for you. It couldn't have been rebuilt in a matter of days, and having an idea of what it would look like could possibly give you an advantage that you so desperately needed. The donations were a good start, but he could do more. He had to do more.

He walked all the way there and then to you with a bag on his shoulder and a knee that never seemed to stop aching. He could feel every step he took in his spine, and by the time he made it to the zoo, he was relieved that he could finally take a break. And finally, he could see you.

"Y/N?" You think you're hallucinating from hunger and paranoia when you hear his voice, making you sit up. "Y/N. It's me. Come here." Coryo's voice comes again, and you're quickly standing and making your way over to the bars.

"Coryo." You smile, wishing you could hug him. You still weren't totally sure if he was really there, or if you were slowly losing your grasp on reality. "What are you doing here?"

"I had to see you." He whispers, not hesitating to reach through the bars and grab your hand.

"But, Sejanus said-"

"I got them to discharge me after the interview. All I can do is sleep it off now anyway." He says, lifting your arm to get a closer look at the stitches. It's not like he could do anything to help it now, but he still wanted to make sure it wasn't getting infected.

You let him, and from the warmth in his hands as he touches you, ever so gently feeling the outside of your cut and grasping your hand, you can tell that he's real. "I thought I'd never see you again." You whisper.

"Likewise." He replies, lowering your arm but not letting go of your hand. "Are you okay? Are you in pain?"

"No." You say softly, giving a slight shake of your head. "It's nothing in comparison to what's to come. I'm trying to appreciate what I have."

Coryo is sure that is the nicest and saddest way anyone in the history of the world has ever confessed to being in pain. "You'll be okay." He assures you. "I won't let anything happen to you. I can't. You saved me."

"His nature is too noble for the world: He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, Or Jove for's power to thunder." You say quietly, a small smile forming on your lips.

"Romeo and Juliet?"

"Coriolanus." You correct him, squeezing his hand where it's still wrapped around yours. "But, I have a confession to make."

"What is it?"

"Now, when I try and remember parts of Coriolanus, all I can truly think about is you." It's true. You tried to remember something from that play for your monologue, to say goodbye and thank him in a way he would easier understand, but instead, all you could think of were his blonde curls against his striking red uniform and his blue eyes against the softness of his skin. For the first time, your mind was empty.

He blushes, but he's sure you can't see it in the poor lighting of the cold night. "Well, your name has only ever meant one thing to me."

"Which is?"

"It's only ever been you."

You don't even realize he's as close as he is until you can feel his breath brushing over your skin, both of you having leaned in closer to hear each other until your foreheads were almost touching.

The cold that surrounded you completely disappeared as your eyes fell shut, lips hardly brushing against his. You both hesitated, at first.

Being stuck in that hospital bed for days only fueled the fire inside Coryo that was slowly burning and churning out smoke that would always led his mind straight back to you. He didn't care if you were 'District', how could he? You were made for him- and you proved that when you chose to save his life over saving yourself from a fate so horrible as a death in The Hunger Games. You weren't 'District'; You were You, and he simmered in the guilt of his rejection of you for days after he had done it. His dishonesty with himself had wasted precious days he could have spent with you, or at least you could have known. Right now, he could have been kissing you for the second, third or fourth time, but now he has to live with the fact that it's possible he'll only ever get to feel your lips on his just once.

Your first kiss wasn't what you imagined it to be. Not at all. You expected that you'd be home, for one, but if you could go back and tell your younger self that you would find your very own Romeo in a blonde boy from the Capitol, she would have laughed in your face. The circumstances would have broken her heart just like they are for you right now. He was gentle, too gentle for the role he was given.

When Coryo pulls away, he's startled to see your cheeks glistening with fallen tears, eyes red once you reopen them. God, how he hates seeing you cry. Especially because of him. Especially if he had hurt you, somehow. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No." You sniff, wiping your cheek on your wrist as you look away. Maybe he doesn't mind seeing you cry as long as you're still looking at him. "It's not your fault I just... I don't know. I'm scared."

You feel annoying for telling him again. He knows. Of course he knows, you've told him so many times.

"I know... I know you are." He nods, reaching out and holding your cheek, urging you to look at him again. "But you're going to be okay."

"I'm not." You smile sadly. "Because I could not stop for death, he kindly stopped for me; the carriage held but just ourselves and immortality."

Coryo just slightly shakes his head. "No." He denies the inevitability of your death vehemently. "Listen, I went to the arena. It's completely different in there. There are places to hide, to run, you could get up in the stands or down into the tunnels underneath. You can hide now and wait it out. You can do it."

"I... I'll try." You manage to squeak out, no longer wanting to cry in front of him, making him feel worse than he does.

Coryo nods, looking around behind you to double-check check none of the other tributes are awake. "I brought you some things that may help." He whispers, dropping his hand from your cheek to dig through his bag.

He pulls out a rolled-up scarf, it's hard to discern the colour in the dark as he holds it out to you. "Coryo, I can't take anything in. You know that."

"Please." He pleads. "I need you to take this. It can kind of keep you warm, or you could..." He trails off, watching as you unroll the silk fabric in your hands.

"I can't kill anyone." You remind him. "I won't do it."

"I know. I know that." He nods. "But everyone does things they aren't proud of to survive."

You chew on your lip as you rub the soft material between your fingers.

"Turn around." He tells you, holding his hands out for you to give it back. You hesitate before obeying, handing it back to him and facing the inside of the cage. "You can't carry it in, but I think if you wear it no one will notice." He whispers, gently pushing the strap of your dress down one of your shoulders.

You understand what he's trying to do, so you do the same thing on the other side and pull your arms out, letting the top half of your dress fall down around your waist.

Coryo's breath hitches in his throat as he stares at your bare back. Your skin was bruised and adorned a burn that looked like it came from being thrown across the ground. Your skin was supposed to be clear, untouched, and unharmed, but the state of it doesn't surprise him. He reaches around you, threading the unfolded material under your arms and across your front which you quickly adjust to cover your chest comfortably as he folds it over itself in the back. "Turn." He whispers, planting the softest of kisses on your shoulder as it bumps against the bars. He wanted to touch you, to drag his fingers across your skin and cherish the only time he would ever get to see you so bare, but he couldn't and he knew that.

You shiver from the warm touch, but make a point of turning quickly as he wraps it around you again, and it's just long enough to tie in the front. He helps you, though you could do it yourself, tying it tight and tucking the knot underneath the layered fabric to disguise it better. "Do whatever you need to with it." He tells you again, letting his hands slide over the material where it wraps around your waist.

You nod slightly, looking down at the scarf now tied around you. You felt safer in it already, less exposed. It felt like a hug. His hands slide up until they're pressed against your cheeks once more, and as he looks into your eyes he's hoping you understand how much he needs you to win.

You pull your dress back on, and it perfectly covers the scarf underneath.

"I have one more thing." He adds, reaching back into his bag and pulling out a small, silver compact.

You take it, turning it over in your palm. "Don't open it." He tells you quickly. "Don't open it until you have to. The powder inside is so deadly it'll kill you if you so much as breathe it in. Be careful."

You're quickly trying to hand it back to him, shaking your head. "Coryo, I told you-"

He pushes your hand back, but holds it in his. "I know. Don't use it if you don't want to. But I need you to understand that I will just be sick if I send you in defenseless. I can't let you die knowing I could have done more to help. I would do anything."

You nod, solemnly accepting that you have to take it. "I can't go in there with you, but I will do everything I can from out here. I promise. I'm not giving up on you." He insists. "They'll give me a computer, and I can send you things with the donations people send, and we have tons. Just like I told you. You won't starve. You just have to wait it out."

"Wait it out." You mumble back to yourself, still nodding as you look down at the cold metal compact held in your palm.

"I'll be watching you the entire time. We're in this together, okay? I'll be with you, you won't be alone." He gives you a small, weak smile.

"Okay." You whisper, tears still steadily falling from your eyes. "And then I can go home?" You ask quietly. You knew the answer, of course, but you desperately needed the reassurance.

"Then you can go home." Coryo confirms, squeezing your hands. "And see the stars, and your family, and your cat, and your books." He whispers.

"And you?" You ask, tilting your head at him, smiling with teary eyes.

"I'll come say goodbye." He nods, and your smile fades. Of course you couldn't stay together, but you hadn't even considered life after the games until this moment.

"Yes. Goodbye." Your smile fades into a more sad one.

"But I'll write to you." He promises.

"And I can send you books." Your normal smile returns and he nods.

"I would love that."

"That reminds me-" You tuck the compact into your pocket, dropping his hands and holding up a finger, telling him to wait while you walk away.

You carefully pull the small blanket from Jessup's sleeping form and grab the tattered copy of Romeo and Juliet, bringing it back to him "Here. Take these now, I just wanted to make sure they got back to you."

"Thank you." He nods, taking them back from you. He wasn't sure how he'd get them back otherwise, but he wasn't sure he really cared.

"Will you read it?" You ask, pointing to the book.

"I will. I'm looking forward to it." He smiles, tucking it under his arm. "I have to go, I'm sorry..." He says, realizing that you both needed as good of a night's sleep as you can possibly get. He was sure he wouldn't be sleeping much as it was.

"Of course. Go home, it's cold out." You nod, arms wrapped around yourself and suddenly he feels guilty for taking the blanket. There it was again, that selflessness. You had endless amounts of it- he was still worried you would do something stupid in the games like sacrifice yourself for Jessup, but only time would tell.

"Hey, take my advice, okay? We're a team." He reminds you and you nod. "Don't trust anyone once that bell rings. I mean it."

"Okay, Coryo. I trust you." You agree, wanting him to understand that you really would try your best to listen.

"Good." He nods, turning to look behind him, at the path he was about to take home. He was hesitating and you could tell, he didn't want to say goodbye, so you would.

"Good night. Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow." You hum, a knowing smile on your face that he wouldn't fully understand, but you didn't need him to. It was a goodbye, that much he understood.

"Goodnight." He whispers, running his hand down the skin of your arm one last time before leaving. He couldn't stay forever, even though he wished he could.

When he got home and into bed, he couldn't resist opening the book that you had cradled in your hands just an hour earlier. He flipped through the pages under the glowing, warm light from his lamp, and the pit of sadness in his stomach only grew when he opened to where you had kept a bookmark. The rose he gave you, pressed and dried between the pages to save your spot.

He lifts the rose carefully, his eyes drawn to the words underneath. "But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun."

#tbosas #tbosas fic #tbosas x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #thg #the hunger games #thg fanfiction #hunger games #thg movies #thg series #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo x reader #coryo snow #snow x reader #snow lands on top

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roosterbruiser · 1 year

Note

Okay but as someone w lupus who is not doing too hot rn, I would drop kick someone into the sun for a good blurb of Bradley taking care of me 🫣

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐏𝐮𝐭

𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐰 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞

You aren't sleeping very soundly. Try as you might--drawing the curtains closed, putting a pillow over your face, getting under a weighted blanket, playing white noise, turning the fan on high, even putting a few drops of lavender essential oil on your pillow--the deep and all-consuming sleep you crave just isn't coming.

And it isn't just that you can't sleep--it's that you just don't feel good. You're certain you have a low-grade fever, your joints are aching, and you're sluggish.

After trying to be a productive human for a few hours, you decide to just give into the desire to lay down and sleep. Except the closest you come to sleeping is fluttering in and out of awareness with a sudden jolt.

Bradley comes home, lug-sole boots thundering against the entryway tiles, without a care in the world. He tosses his keys in their designated metal bowl with a resounding clang. He's even still crooning some Peter Gabriel song that was playing in the Bronco on his drive home. Needless to say--he seems to be making as much noise as humanly possible, entirely and blissfully unaware of the throb in your temple.

"Baby!" He calls out dramatically, unlacing his shoes and tossing them aside (another bang, bang!). "Where are you? M'gonna explode if I don't kiss you right now!"

Any other day, you'd be elated to hear such a romantic--albeit melodramatic--statement. But right now, your throat is aching and your eyelids are heavy and you're tired in the very marrow in your bones.

He starts for the stairs, still humming loudly along to a song that is just not playing, and calls out your name. You don't have it in you to raise your voice--which is the only way he'd be able to hear you, anyway--so you just wait underneath your pillow and wait for the sound-bomb that is your boyfriend burst through the door.

Burst through he does--letting the door slam against the wall (a habit you are really trying to get him to break seeing as he's put a lock-shaped hole in the wall. He says he just gets too excited and you think it's endearing, but you're also sure that he's getting tired of spackling the same spot every weekend) as he enters the room full of song and cheer.

But then he sees you.

You look just as tired and worn down as you feel; fingers a blue-tint, body covered entirely by the weighted blanket you only break out when he isn't home to lay on top of you, and pillow pressed against your face a tell-tale sign that something isn't right.

"Oh, baby," he whispers softly, immediately hurrying into the bedroom, now mindful of his footfalls. He presses his hands against yours, tutting when he feels how cold your fingers are. "You should've called," he says soberly, stroking the soft skin of your hand with his calloused thumb. "Would've come home, baby."

You groan, shaking your head, unwilling to open your eyes.

"You're government property," you tell him softly, muffled by a mouthful of pillow. "Can't just tell the Navy to give my boyfriend to me for a day."

Even without looking, you know he's grinning. Even as shitty as you feel and you're cracking jokes.

"Don't you know the Navy answers to you, baby?" He chuckles, bending down to press a fleeting kiss to your hand, patting your forearm.

"Hah," you manage dryly.

That's how he knows you really don't feel good--you can't keep riffing with him. His chest is aching just looking down at you. Poor thing, he's thinking.

"Let me tuck you in," he says softly. "Permission to move the pillow?"

You grumble, but shoot him a thumbs up.

It's so bright in the room, even with the curtains closed. You have to blink a few times, squinting up at him. And he's smiling in that soft way, pitying you and loving you all at once. He hates when you're sick more than anything in the world, but boy is it a breath of fresh air just to see that face of yours.

You frown, your cheeks pink.

"Hi," you whisper, voice ragged.

He strokes your hair softly, slyly checking your forehead for a fever. Then he leans down and presses his lips against yours; it's a soft and sweet kiss, one he's been looking forward to all day.

"Hi," he mumbles against your lips. "Y'look beautiful."

You scoff.

"Shut up," you mutter, sighing. "I'm sick."

He kisses you again, nuzzling his nose against yours. He's grinning now.

"And those two things are mutually exclusive?"

You don't have it in you to retort, so you just roll your eyes.

"M'gonna grab a survival kit," he starts, stroking your cheek carefully, noting how pink it is in comparison to the rest of your peaked face. "Don't go anywhere, okay?"

You glare at him--he just can't help himself today, apparently. You have just enough energy to stick your tongue out at him and he walks out of the room chuckling.

He's good at taking care of you--it's because his mom was good at taking care of him when he was sick. She spoiled him and even if he didn't physically feel good, he loved being showered with attention. So he gives you the same treatment. It's not that he likes when you're sick, but he likes to spoil you.

You drift off for the few minutes he's gone and come to as he pads through the door with his arms full. He kneels at your bedside, humming quietly, in full nurse-mode.

"Open," he hums, holding a thermometer to your lips. You comply without a grumble and he pats your cheek. "Should I crush your pills up and hide them in applesauce?" He asks.

You narrow your eyes at him, shaking your head. He has a shit-eating grin spread across his pretty face, chuckling to himself.

You have to admit--he is endearing when he's like this. You know he's only trying to lighten your mood and honestly? It's working. Damn Bradley Bradshaw.

He's humming to himself as he moves to pull the covers up around your feet and slips a pair of fuzzy socks on you. He even leans down and presses a kiss to the top of your socked feet, which would make you gag if it was any other man than Bradley. But that's the thing about Bradley--you were totally and completely in love with him and he returned those feelings tenfold. Hell, he was obsessed with you! There was not even one part on your body he didn't adore, not one state of being that he wasn't enamored with.

He tucks you in with a gentleness only someone as lovely as Bradley could possess. Then he swiftly grabs the thermometer from your lips and reads it with his eyebrows pinched.

"What's the prognosis?" You ask, resting your cheek on your shoulder.

He opens his mouth, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Says you're hot," you and Bradley say in tandem, your tone dripping with faux-mockery and his dripping with genuine charm.

"Am I getting predictable?" He asks, popping a bottle of fever reducer and placing two on your tongue, effectively rendering you wordless again. He holds a straw to your lips and you drink as much as you can before collapsing back into the pillows.

"Only sometimes," you say quietly, eyes growing heavier by the second.

You honestly just feel better in his presence--the ache in your skull dulled by his grin, by his careful touch, by that glimmer in his eyes that makes you gooey inside. So when he kisses your forehead again and tells you that he's going to put some soup on, you are not surprised to feel that tell-tale exhaustion flood you. It's one you can't evade; within minutes, you're slumbering under the blanket he tucked around you, lips wet with icy water, feet warmed by socks he bought for you.

"Nurse Bradley reporting for duty! May I offer you a sponge bath--!"

He stops speaking as soon as he sees your slumbering form.

He isn't gone for very long--maybe fifteen minutes--but when he comes through the bedroom door carrying a tray of chicken noddle soup and saltine crackers and finds you finally resting, he's relieved.

He knew you were tired and he knows how difficult it is for you to sleep when he's not home. He sets the tray down on the bedside table as carefully as he can, quickly stripping to his boxers, climbing onto the bed beside you. You rouse only for a moment as he tangles your limbs in his, tucking your head under his chin, slotting his leg between yours.

But he's quick to press soft kisses to the crown of your head, stroking your hair.

"Shh," he whispers. "S'okay. Just couldn't leave you all by yourself in this big ole bed, baby."

You smile through your exhaustion, wrapping your arms around that warm and taut torso, nuzzling your face in his neck. He smells so good; like the nice soap you buy from his shower this morning, like jet fuel, like salt air. It is a scent that entirely overwhelms you with adoration and comfort.

"You liiike me," you mumble, yawning.

He laughs, kissing you again and again, letting himself get lost in your sweet scent.

"More than that," he whispers. "I love you--so much. Just so, so much."

You're slipping away again, mouth parted, face blanched in the infinite warmth of his tanned skin.

"I love you too," you whisper, muffled by his throat. "Nerd."

His heart is so full right now that he's certain it's going to burst--he loves you more and more every single day. It's something that overwhelms him at times, something that wets his eyes, parts his lips. And right now, with your bodies an endless and intricate pile of flushed and goosed skin, he feels it now. His heart lulled to a steady rhythm that he knows is the cadence of your name, his eyelids heavy with something close to sleepiness, his fingers tingling as they comb through your hair.

Bliss. That's what he's feeling as he holds you, as he thinks about reheating your soup when you wake up, as he mentally marks what time you will need another dose of fever-reducer. Total, absolute bliss.

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𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐦𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐛��𝐮𝐫𝐛, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧, 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬! 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲, 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐛!

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foreverisntenough · 1 month

Text

- YOU’RE MINE -

Summary: While you daydreamed about his face an ocean apart, he had no idea what yours was about to do to him. With a twist of fate and the heat of summer, a new relationship would completely ransack his heart - Everyday heavy with the thought of one another, neither of you were going to let the unexpected love of your life go. You were going to be his, you were his, and you were going to stay his.

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestion, smut (unprotected sex,) mentions of pregnancy, love bombing, occasionally sad, kind of angsty, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: I hope you like it! There will definitely be more parts (don’t know how many just yet though.)

INDEX

Chapter 29 - ‘You’re Mine’

You rang in the new year at George’s house with a bonfire. You couldn’t really do anything grander because Liverpool had a game the next day which was fine by you. You stood in the back garden as a bunch of boys fumbled around trying to light fireworks in time for the clock to strike. It was disastrous so you kept your Trent away from it all. Your hands hung around his waist. His one hand caressed your neck, his thumb moving over your skin, the other brushed across your flushed cheek.

“Somehow, I think you’ll look even more beautiful next year.” Trent cooed looking longingly into your eyes. You blushed hearing his words. You squeezed him a little tighter. Your nails dug into his jumper.

“You think?” You cooed back, nuzzling your cold nose into his neck. You hid your face between his hoodie and warm skin. The smell of cedar embers circulating.

“You manage to every day… think a whole new year on you will just be…wow. The most beautiful girl in the world.” He whispered into your hair. You pulled away as you heard a spark fizzle. You looked at his face dimly lit from the fires flames. He was stunning. You picked your hand up off his waist and rubbed your thumb over his high cheekbone as the first firework successfully went off. The illumination scattering across the night sky. Both his hands came to cup your cheeks. He pressed a heavy kiss against your plump lips. He pulled away with a cheeky grin. The colors from the fireworks washed over his face. The contours and highlights of it turning blue and green. He looked beautiful like that.

“Happy New Year.” You giggled before you pulled him into another kiss.

“Happy New Year, baby. I love you.” He smiled, speaking close as his lips ghosted over yours.

“Think this will be our year.” You beamed as a red light cast over your face now. He pressed another soft kiss on your lips. He began to litter your entire face with them. You couldn’t not giggle. He loved hearing your hiccuped sounds interspersed with the thunderous fireworks, shouts of friends, a muffled speaker, and the crackle of the fire. He pulled you in closer to him, your body flush against his.

“I think so too.” He whispered with his lips moving to your ear. The warmth of his breath making you shiver. He worked kisses down your jaw, over your cheek, to your lips before he gave you a goofy smile smacking an incredibly wet messy kiss on your lips hearing another boom! go off.

“Okay! Okay! I want to watch them, T. Stop!” You fell into more giggles shoving your hands flat against his chest. His hands pulled your body even closer as you attempted to move away, twisting your head away from him. Squirming to avoid another kiss.

“Gimme a kiss first. C’mon, pretty girl. Just one then you can watch.” He begged, pouting his lips at you. His eyes pooled into the deep brown puppy dog eyes he knew would have you in the palm of his hands immediately.

“No fair.” You gave him a mirror of his pout back before giving him a sweet peck. He chuckled under his breath a little knowing very well the capability and effect of his gaze and so the new year began just like that.

“It’s fucking freezing. I hate the rainnn.” You complained. You sat in the stands at Anfield with Tyler and George as the minutes of Trent’s match ticked by.

“And yet you moved to Liverpool? To England?” George cackled laughing at how ridiculous you sounded.

“You’re absolutely insane.” Tyler echoed with a similar laugh. They couldn’t help but make fun of you complaining about the rain but you were cold and you couldn’t help it. They were just being annoying.

“No, I’m just in love with him.” You tried to defend your move ignoring them as your eyes followed Trent running down the pitch striking a particularly good shot on target. You groaned watching the goalie tip it over the bar.

“Booooo” Tyler pinched at you ignoring the play and focusing on teasing you about how obsessed you were with his brother. You sat leaning forward resting with your elbows on your knees.

“Oh my days. You’re actually embarrassing for him.” George smirked watching you as your eyes filled with love hearts glued to Trent. You remained steadfast in your plan to ignore them mocking you so you just kept your gaze on the pitch and the very pretty sweaty boy in a red jersey until the ninety plus minutes ran out. You moved inside to the much much warmer box to wait for him like you always do. You watched the rain continue to pour down into the emptying stadium. It made you a little sad for some reason like in that moment you felt alone despite the box being filled with family and friends. You stared a little longer before a pair of cold hands wrapping around your waist made you jump.

“Shit! You scared me, baby” you yelped giggling relieved to see it was Trent behind you. You couldn’t suppress the laugh your heart was beating too fast.

“You expecting someone else?” He joked, squeezing you a little tighter, peppering some kisses onto your neck. You hummed not feeling so alone anymore. The two of you in your own world for the moment looking at the rain splatter against the seats outside.

“We’re still going to yours?” George came over, his hand gripping Trent’s shoulder. Trent nodded with a hum.

“Ready?” You gave Trent the same response: a nod with a hum. You walked hand in hand to the car park. You listened to Trent babble about the game and you just watched his animated face move. He was excited about the win, you couldn’t blame him.

“Proud of you” you cooed quietly holding his hand in his lap while he drove you home.

“Yeah?” He asked earnestly.

“Everytime.” You said before leaning over the center console in the car to peck his cheek. When you pulled up to a traffic light he looked at you with a cheeky smile. “What?” You giggled.

“Real one please.” He rolled his bottom lip and threw doe eyes in your direction. You leaned over again and his hand came to caress your cheek. His lips melted into yours. He tasted like honey. The sound of the rain on the hood of the car was the perfect soundtrack. You felt contentment run through your veins until it clotted when the car behind yours honked, the green light filling the car as you opened your eyes.

After their game, a gaggle of boys funneled into your house. The noise reverberated through the whole structure. It kind of depended on the night but more often than not you would just let them wreak havoc; it was loud, messy, it could be gross, just boys being boys, you don’t know, you just let them be. Ironically it felt like after a win they were even more chaotic. Tonight was no different. It was always Trent, his brothers, George, Curtis and then a revolving door of any other friends or teammates that decided to come. You were more than welcome but the essence of the night was always a very ‘lads on tour’ vibe. Opting to avoid all that for the evening, you popped upstairs as you had promised your sister you’d give her a call. She could hear the ruckus from downstairs and asked if you were okay with a laugh. After you assured her it was a bunch of millionaire little boys playing, you spoke with her for a while until she had to go. You hung up and still could still hear the tv playing something but couldn’t quite make it out, which made it that much more annoying. You tried to lay in your bed but you felt really needy for some reason. Like you had been left alone for weeks. You missed Trent. There was an innate feeling of clinginess, a longing just to be close to him pumping through your nervous system, like his proximity would be the only thing able to calm it. You pouted and tried to distract yourself but it did nothing to ease the sensation, nothing worked. You still missed him. You sent Trent a text asking where he was. Yes, you could freely go and look around your house but you were being lazy and didn’t feel like aimlessly following the shouting boys. He quickly told you where he was with a cheeky ‘come see me 😉’ at the end and so you did. You jogged down the stairs in a pair of black leggings and a little white tank top making your way to the room. Your tits freely bouncing, you probably could’ve changed or at least thrown on a bra. Anyways, you could feel a warmness fill your chest as you heard his voice specifically isolated coming from down the hall. Thankfully Trent was sitting far back in the room close to the door so you snuck in quietly. The room was dark except for the massive screen emitting blue light. He didn’t see you come in until you collapsed on top of him. He grunted feeling your body weight suddenly, his face wincing at the abruptness. Not a single person in the room turned round. He adjusted quickly and a grin pulled across his face.

“Hello you.” He cooed, pressing a kiss to your lips as you smiled up to him. Wrapping your arms around his strong body softened into a lounger. You squeezed him tight as you nestled into him. “Coming to bother me?” He giggled some watching you lazily kiss his chest. You nodded a ‘no’ and his laugh continued. “Oh alright. Just felt like coming to lay completely on top of me. Hmm?” He whispered to you. You smirked, continuously kissing over his shirt.

“I thought you liked me on top of you.” You deviously looked up at him with a flirty grin. He laughed to himself shaking his head.

“I do.” He whispered again. His big hands coming to palm your ass. He gripped it and pulled you up his body that way. “C’mere. Gimme a big kiss.” You bit your lip feeling his hands on you. This is what you came downstairs for. You nodded before you pressed your lips into his. You both giggled like you were in year 7 sneaking the kiss.

“Ms.America, how are we?” You heard a voice in the dark room from over closer to the screen. One head turned, it was Curtis. He looked at you while the others stayed slouched in their seats. Your giggles and the sound of a kiss were a dead give away you had come into the room. You hide your face in Trent’s neck.

“Good” you muffled out. No one really cared and you were fine with that. All the boys were distracted by a video game being played.

“Trenski, you’re supposed to play next, can you focus with Y/N in the room?” Tyler looked back at Trent a while later. Trent looked down at you then back at him and smirked

“Probably not but I’ll give it a go.” He responded, picking up a game controller. You shivered on top of him. You were cold in your little tank top. As he began the game he couldn’t have both hands on you anymore to provide any warmth so you slipped off him to go get a blanket quietly but you were halted abruptly half way there.

“No… absolutely not, put it back.” George yelped out as you walked over to a basket with throw blankets.

“Excuse me?” You giggled looking at him genuinely shocked.

“No, because last time…” he started talking

“It was one time!” Trent interrupted him yelling from the back of the room. His eyes didn’t move from their focus on the game but he was conscious of the conversation unfolding. What Trent and George were referring to was a time a few people came over after a night out. You were drunk, everyone was, but you particularly. You fumbled into the cinema room and everyone gradually started falling asleep as a shitty movie play. You did not. You were eager and adamant about having sex. Trent finally caved in a moment of weakness under the influence of too many drinks and your touch. You hid under a blanket and moved slow and quiet biting back moans, gasping silently. In your mind the act was subtle. George felt otherwise he was nearby and didn’t love that, he loved you both, but this… this was too far. About 15 minutes in he finally snapped and groaned out a ‘please fucking stop’ eliciting laughter from you and Trent stopping your movements immediately. You all moved on but George evidently was not taking any chances with you, Trent, and a blanket in the cinema room anymore.

“One time too many, thank you…” he croaked out sinking back into his seat. You held your hands up in innocence and returned to Trent with a sad face dramatizing how cold you were.

“C’mere” Trent cooed as you got closer to him. He pulled off his jumper and handed it to you, helping you put it on. It was exactly what you needed. It was warm, it smelt like him, it was just the perfect type of oversized. You cuddled back into him while he continued on with his game. You got a little bored to be honest and found yourself mindlessly kissing his neck. Trent tipped his head to one side to give you more room at first enjoying the feeling of your lips on him and the action shifted something inside of you. You wanted him now. Your kisses became more intimate and intentional. Sucking on him, your tongue brushing over bruising skin. He regretted giving you the space almost immediately. He got sidetracked for a moment and made a mistake in the game.

“Trent if you fuck up again… oh my days!” George yelled back at him.

“Bro… I will drag Y/N out of this room right now.” Marcel threatened him. Trent yessed them and shook his head before one of his massive hands came and squished your cheeks together pushing your lips out. He held your face with one hand.

“Enoughhhhh” he dragged the word out and threw a serious glare at you quickly. You giggled a little which made him smile but you knew he was serious. You probably could sway him but you didn’t want to ruffle any feathers with George and Marcel so you stopped and got comfortable again on his chest. It was getting late and you kept dozing in and out of sleep on his chest, awoken every so often by the boys shouting at each other or the screen. He held you close to him as you slid your hand under his shirt and dragged your nails gently over his abs. He purred a little at the sensation and kissed your hair. It was all fairly innocent but the neediness you felt early was persistent as it came storming back.

“Wouldn’t it be nice if I could just keep your cock warm inside me right now?” You whispered out of the blue into Trent’s ear. His eyes widened. His breath hitched. Your teeth nibbling and pulling on his earlobe.

“Oh my goddd” he groaned but equally as quiet back to you feeling his cock start to harden. It resulted in him making another mistake in the video game.

“Trent! Fuck brother… you’re off.” George yelled at him again not putting up with his inability to focus right now and so Trent was done with the game for the moment to your delight, his hands fell back on you.

“Would you want to be inside my pussy right now?” You cooed hushed and sensually against his ear again. Your lips pressing light kisses on him raising the hairs on the back of his neck.

“Jesus, baby” he groaned again. Trent’s cock had gone completely hard underneath you and you felt it twitch with each of your last words. He usually had control in sexual situations so in scenarios like this when you temporarily had the upper hand you were going to exploit it. It would probably bite you in the ass later but that didn’t stop you, in fact it only spurred you on.

“I'm so wet, T. You could just slip right in.” You moaned, licking the shell of his ear pushing your hips into him. That was the final straw from him.

“Alright…” he grunted. “You gotta get up. Go away.” He shook his head, rattled by how turned on he was and the amount of restraint he was having to practice in the boy filled room. He needed you away from him while everyone was still over. He picked your body off his fairly harshly and you squirmed in his arms.

“Nooo, please” you whined with a faux pout. He started to laugh thinking of how he was going to get back at you for what you just did and the hard on you were leaving him with.

“Get away from me… go sit over there.” He shooed you over to go sit on a couch with Marcel

“Nah, don’t want your clingy ass.” Marcel quipped overhearing the last bit of Trent’s sentence seeing him gesture towards where he was sitting. He was kidding and you knew that but you furrowed your brows anyway at him and sat in spite of his comment putting your feet up and proceeding to push him with them. He shook his head with a smile ignoring you.

“Baby…. Are you mad at me?” You asked in a suggestive tone. Your finger ran over the thin silver chain on his neck. “If you want, we could go to our room and talk.” When all the boys left your house gradually you knew you were in for it and you were begging for your punishment to start. You watched Trent’s eyes darken at the suggestion, knowing exactly what his plan was the second you entered the bedroom.

“Yeah, beautiful. Need to talk to you.” He mused as he grabbed your waist and pushed you in front of him as you both walked upstairs. You nodded chewing on your lip. You looked so innocent, so pretty, so desperate and he couldn’t wait to destroy you. When you finally got back to your room you played dumb and asked him some questions before you coyly slid your hand over the bulge in his sweatpants acting as if it was an accident your hand ended up there. He let you manipulate him. You pulled his sweats and boxers down a little and let his incredibly hard cock spring out. You looked at him with faux innocence before you lowered yourself down onto your knees in front of him. You took his cock’s full length in your mouth instantaneously. Trent was lost in the sensation of your lips and tongue as he gripped some of your hair forcing you to take more of him. The feeling of your warm throat had him reeling. He felt so fucking good, you felt so fucking good. Your hands gingerly massaged his balls. You hummed seeing the pleasure on his face, the flush coming over him. The vibration felt so good on him he needed to keep his hands on your head to steady himself. He suddenly stopped you and pulled his cock from your mouth when he thought he was getting close. A string of saliva stuck to you and his cock.

“Baby.. you didn’t…” you whimpered a little out of breath.

“I know I want to somewhere else, need to get you pregnant. Hmm?” your heart skipped at his words but also his handsome, disheveled look when he picked you up off the ground and threw you on the bed, you gasped. His hands busied themselves taking off his clothes and then yours. Your clothes were left discarded on the bedroom floor fast. He dimmed the lights of the room leaving only the natural lighting from outside to shower the space before he walked back over to you. You spread your legs cheekily and scooted backwards giving him a good view of you as he crawled towards you. His eyes were fixed on your glistening pussy. The tips of his fingers gently but eagerly ran through your folds letting your slick coat his fingers.

“Oh my god, baby, you're already soaked f’me. Do you need me to touch you?" You nodded, not able to play your game anymore. His fingers on your pussy wiped everything else from your brain but the thought of him. He groaned seeing you squirm as he began to swirl circles around your clit. The smirk on his face let you know immediately you were probably in trouble. “Can’t wait to fill you up until you're pregnant." You felt your high fast approaching as his fingers worked mercilessly against your sensitive bud. It was just when you felt yourself about to tip over the edge that Trent removed his fingers depriving you of what no doubt would’ve been a very very good orgasm. You were frustrated, horny, naked, and pretty all for him. You couldn’t stop your hips from trying to grind back down onto his hands now gripping the inside of your thighs.

“T… please, come on, baby, I need you so badly." You whined as he stuck his fingers abruptly into your entrance. You gasped out. His thick fingers curled to hit the right spot inside of you only he knew. You were leaking all over his hand, unable to coherent thoughts. You tried to reach for his cock frantically just wanting to feel Trent. Wishing he would stuff you full but he wouldn’t let you even get close. As another high came rushing towards its climax you felt his finger slip right out and not return. “Please… I’m sorry. Please please fuck me.” He popped his drenched fingers in his mouth and his cock throbbed at the addicting taste of your pussy. That was enough to stop the teasing he now needed you just as bad.

“Gonna be a good girl now? Hmm? I’ll give you what you want, okay?” He teased with a smug look as you desperately nodded before he rolled your body over. You shifted on the bed pushing you face down into the mattress with your ass up for him. You spread your thighs a little for him to see your dripping pussy. He laughed a little at your distress and desire. He pumped his cock a few times before dragging the tip through your wet folds nudging your clit. His big hands massaging and squeezing the soft skin of your ass. You moaned and squirmed at the sensation before he started to slide his cock inside of you.

"Holy shit...fuuck baby, you feel so goddamn good. Squeezing me so tight" he hissed as his fingers dug into your plump ass as he gave you inch after inch. When you finally took all of him he began slow. Each thrust of his hit deeper and more powerful than the next as his pace began to pick up. The thickness of his cock hitting every part of you you were craving. You were moaning senselessly. He pulled your body up back to his by your neck. His hands sliding to massage your tits as they bounced only causing you to arch your back more. “Look so fucking beautiful f’me like this. Gonna make a mess f’me?” He could feel your pussy tighten with his words. You felt yourself gush all over his cock. All the teasing building up to this moment becoming too much to manage holding anything in. He watched his cock slide seamlessly in and out of you covered in your slick. He was so fucking addicted to you, to this feeling, this sight. This was all he ever wanted. He kept hammering into your g spot repeatedly with his cock as you cried out for a long time until your stomach began to tighten again. Suddenly your pussy spasmed. His pace only quickening.

“You feel so fucking good, baby. Fuck. Fuck. Please cum inside me” you begged desperately, grinding back against him causing him to swear under his breath. His thrusts began to get sloppy. He groaned your name out before he emptied into you. God, it felt so good and so hot. His pulsating cock inside you stilling with his cum filling you up made you both almost dizzy. He pulled out and you rolled over feeling totally spent but Trent had other plans. He looked down seeing your pussy leaking his cum and it made his brain short circuit. He climbed over you with fire in his eyes. He pushed your legs over his shoulders as he slid his cock and his cum back inside you.

“This pussy was made for me. Fucking perfect.” He grunted slowly building up his pace back until he was fucking you senselessly again the noises in the bedroom were so lewd. The sound of your pussy squelching with his cum and your own slick. Your brain turned to mush. His hand slid down to your throbbing clit. He moved in perfect tight circles that had your mouth agape trying not to drool but it was so difficult to do much of anything. You just let him have his way with you. Trent’s big hand moved off your clit to come and squish your cheeks with force like he did earlier in the cinema. Your eyes widened and then shut closed as he thrusted particularly deep.

“Oh fuck! Right there, T. Please fuck I’m so close!” You yelped out. You were close to crying he made you feel so good. You wanted to be fucked like this for the rest of your life. Suddenly your orgasm rocked you. You felt your body tremble and almost give out. You were seeing white. Your eyes rolled back, you thought you might pass out from it.

“You look so fucking hot right now. I love seeing you like this. All for me. All mine.” His cock twitched inside you aching to release. He slammed his lips against yours falling into a messy messy makeout. “Fuck, You’re so hot when you cum for me, baby. Be a good girl and take it f’me. Got me so fucking horny earlier need to fuck you just like this.” He moaned into your mouth when he couldn’t hold on anymore. His cum started to fill you up again. He could feel his cock’s length pulsating inside of you as you both reached your highs. You clung to him desperately.Trent continued to thrust into you keeping the pleasure flowing through your over sensitive, spent body beneath him.

“I love you so much, baby. I’m all yours. Holy shit” you said muffled when you buried your face in his neck. You both shut your eyes, panting, sweating, as he stilled inside your pussy. He grabbed your chin and pulled you off his neck and to him for a passionate kiss. He nibbled on your lip lazily before he let go. “T…” you whined, reaching up to caress his sweaty cheek. You were quiet for a little both absolutely exhausted but Trent broke it after a good amount of time with a hearty laugh.

“I love you so fucking much. You’re amazing, beautiful.” Pressing another kiss to your lips before rolling off to the side of you. He pulled your limp body back into his. He peppered kisses onto your hair. You cuddled up to him so comfortable, so full, so tired.

“Sleep” you muttered out, only able to manage one word. Your eyes were heavy. Your minimal vocabulary had his laughter filling your quiet bedroom. The hot air and his heart beat lulling you to sleep before he kissed you gently good night.

Joke or not, Marcel was right the other night. You were feeling so clingy to him. You clung to Trent doing everything he did lately. Something was just different about the way you felt towards him. Liverpool had made it out of the group stages of the champions league so they continued on with their European quest and that meant more traveling for Trent. A disastrous feeling took over for you knowing he’d be away for days at a time again.

“They don’t need you, I do.” You whined sitting on the floor of your wardrobe while watching Trent pack for an away game trying to help but really just folding and refolding items to elongate the process. You weren’t serious well.. maybe you were a little.

“Wow… don’t think I’m an important player in the squad?” he feigned being hurt by your words.

“Stop!” You cried out. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. I just meant I need you, baby.” You got up off the floor and placed the shirt you were folding on the counter before wrapping your arms around him, squeezing tight. You rolled your lip and looked up at him.

“Are you okay baby?” Trent asked, looking down at you sympathetically. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t notice the changes in your behavior lately, particularly your attachment to him. “You’ve been…” he paused. He wasn’t sure how to phrase this. You looked up at him inquisitively doe eyed. “I don’t know, I’m not against it or anything… I’ve just noticed you’ve been really needy lately.” Your face dropped causing his face to drop instantaneously.

“Needy…?” you felt like you were going to cry. It was one thing for you to know you felt needy but for Trent to call you that was another. You felt so hurt and honestly a bit annoyed. You could feel your heart pounding as he said a word you wished you’d never hear from him.

“Like clingy or… fuck! Oh my days.” He groaned frustrated with himself. “I don’t mean it like that.” He panicked trying to rectify the situation but managed to only make it worse.

“I actually feel sick.” You quivered out, getting your hands off him immediately and stepping away quicker somehow. You could see fear wash over him in slow motion. Normally, you could take something like this in stride and have a bit more perspective to understand that he didn’t mean it in a negative way and to his defense something in your behavior had changed but right now this comment was wounding. You felt nauseous. You’d been feeling sick a lot lately but you just put it down to a common cold going around. That feeling came over you intensely right now suddenly though. You walked out of the room abruptly. Trent took a step to follow you but knew it would probably make it worse so he waited a few minutes.

“Baby…” he cooed when he finally came to find you. You sat on the ledge of your bathtub. Your face looking drained. “I’m so sorry. You know I didn’t mean it that way. My words got all tangled up. You’re not needy. And if you ever were I’d love every second of it. I love to be needed by you, beautiful. Hmm?”

“I know.” You murmured out so quiet he could barely hear you. You couldn’t pick your head up to look him in the eyes. You didn’t feel strong enough so he did it for you. His hand gently picked your head up with his finger under your chin.

“What’s been going on? Just let me in” he cooed as his other hand stroked up and down your side. You were quiet for a moment.

“I’ve been feeling really shitty. I don’t know, emotionally and physically. Everything feels a mess. I find myself missing you even when you’re right in front of me. I don’t know what’s going on. I’m sorry.” You started to cry and he gave you that soft smile that was comforting and compassionate.

“Hey… you’re okay. Nothings wrong.” He spoke gently as his thumb brushed back and forth over your jaw. “I’m here for you. I’ll take care of you, baby. Just have to tell me what I can do.” He tried so hard to be helpful but to be honest you didn’t know what he could do to help. You went to bed in a comfortable silence. Maybe not as comfortable as it had ever been but it wasn’t awkward. Trent was just being particularly careful around you. Despite it all, he pulled you into his arms tucked under the blankets and you dozed off together for the night.

Unfortunately, when you woke up the next morning you felt worse than you had in the last two weeks. You slinked off the bed and snuck to the bathroom early in the dark room. You only turned one bathroom light on after you had closed the door not wanting to wake Trent. You got sick again and again. You sat on the bathroom floor next to the toilet for what felt like ages. The only way you were going to feel clean again was a shower. You peeled off your clothes and stood under the warm water. You had to brace yourself up against the shower wall because you felt so lightheaded. You started to cry against your will overwhelmed. You felt silly and weak but that only made you cry more. You tried to reign in your gasping breath when the bathroom door opened slowly.

“Baby…” Trent called out sleepily and hesitantly. “You alright?” He walked further into the room and looked at you through the glass of the shower. There really wasn’t a way you were going to hide how upset you were. It was blatantly all over your face and written in your body language. He gave you sad smile and pulled his shirt over his head. He stopped before he took off his boxers. “Can I come in?” You nodded trying not to lock eyes to trigger any more tears. He got in the shower and wrapped you in a tight embrace. You were so close together there was barely any room for you to even speak but you managed.

“I don’t know what’s wrong.” You croaked out between shaky breathes. He only squeezed you tighter silently. Moments like this where you didn’t have to be having sex to feel intimate we’re so important to the foundation of your relationship with him.

“I got you, alright? I’m here.” He whispered. You moved through the motions of the shower slow and your routine after even slower. He engulfed you with a towel drying you off and messily rubbed it over your hair like you were a little kid. You just looked at him and he giggled at his own childish action. He picked you up and your legs wrapped around his waist, your head dropping to rest on his shoulder. He plopped you back onto the bed before another whisper that he’d be right back. He came back with a clean t-shirt of his and pulled it over your head. You tucked back into the bed and cuddled up under the covers again before he pressed a kiss to your forehead. He was quiet as he moved around the bedroom getting ready for his day gathering his stuff. Despite feeling so sick you felt incredibly taken care of. You could hear him on the phone when he went back into the wardrobe.

“Do you mind checking in on her? I’m worried and I have to get going soon… yeah… I don’t know, not sure… okay, I’ll do that… alright, thank you…love you mum.”

You had known he was talking to Dianne immediately. You hated that you were worrying him. He came out, dropped his bag by the door and then came over to sit on the edge of the bed next to your frame.

“I don’t like leaving you like this” he cooed, stroking his hand over your face. You gave him a fake smile he didn’t appreciate so he shook his head disapproving. “Will you just call me, baby?” You gave him a quiet yeah that he’d just have to settle for. “You’re gonna watch the game with Marce and that?” You gave him another quiet yeah verbatim. “Alright, I love you so much. I’ll be back soon, yeah?” You felt tears start to build up. So you shut your eyes. His lips came and pressed onto your temple and stayed there for a minute. He mumbled with his lips over your skin saying ‘I love you’ again and again until he pulled away with a silly ‘mwah’ noise. As he was making his way to the door you finally spoke with some volume.

“T…” you managed to quiver out so he turned around instantaneously. He walked back over to you and you reached your hand up to cup his warm cheek. He placed his much larger hand over top of your smaller one. “Have a good match. You’ll do great.” You cooed as he pressed a kiss to your wrist. Mouthing a ‘thank you’ silently to you. “Come back with a win, please, baby.” He laughed some with a genuine toothy grin so you smiled softly back as he got up again.

As expected later on in the day while Trent would’ve been landing with the team, Dianne asked if you had wanted to go to shops with her. To be honest, you didn’t feel like it but you knew not going would cause more of a concern so you went. She kindly picked you up and you drove into the small shopping area in your town.

“Feeling okay hun?” She cooed while walking next to you. You looked over at her and smiled not wanting to lie so you gave her a blanket answer.

“Fine, body’s just been off. There must be a cold going round or something.” You spoke as your eyes scanned a shelf trying not to look back at her. She looked at you sympathetically before putting her hand on your shoulder.

“I haven’t heard anything about one going around.” She smiled at you knowing you were holding back in typical mum fashion. “I’m not going to call and report back, you can tell me” squeezing your shoulder almost letting out a laugh. You relaxed and let out a sigh.

“I could say I stubbed my toe and he’d fly home or something ridiculous .” You giggled looking back at her with a knowing face because Trent would do shit like that for you and she knew it too.

“He just cares, sweetie. What’s going on…” you kept walking down the aisle and she followed close behind. So you finally caved and began to explain your symptoms.

“I just feel really nauseous. Everything is making me sick. I’m exhausted no matter how much I sleep. I’m so fatigued…” you kept rambling. You broke down everything you’d been feeling for the past few weeks.

“Hmm..” she rolled her bottom lip and raised her eyebrows. Her face said it all and you just about fainted. You panicked and felt your legs start to give out so you grabbed onto a display you were stood by subtly.

“It’s nothing!” You cut her off before she could say anything else. “Have you seen these?” You asked, picking something frivolous up at random. Swiftly changing the conversation topic. She smiled at you and let you deviate. You could tell the reminder of your day with her that she was monitoring your movements. When she dropped you off back home later in the evening you bolted upstairs. You immediately ran to your bathroom getting sick again. You sat on the floor and began to cry. The moment had come… between the lingering sickness and other symptoms, Dianne’s intrigue about them, you knew you had to check, all the signs were there and you had been oblivious. The thing was, you were absolutely terrified of both possibilities. You had bought a few boxes of pregnancy tests a while ago to have on hand if you got to a point like this but actually pulling them out of the cupboard felt excruciatingly difficult. You didn’t want to face the heartbreak of a negative without Trent to comfort you but the thought that you may genuinely be with child also scared the shit out of you too. You mustered up some courage and grabbed a test and took it. You propped yourself up against the bathroom wall just mindlessly staring blank around the room with a million possibilities racing through your mind. You set a timer on your phone and placed both that and the test out of sight. When the alarm went off you felt your heart stop and you hesitantly approached it, picking it up with shaky hands. There it was, the infamous blue cross indicating… ‘pregnant.’ You went into shock for a moment. You felt paralyzed. Holy shit…You started crying uncontrollably but when you managed to settle down a little. You remained panicked but conscious so you tried two more tests just in case. You sat, waited… ‘pregnant’, cried and then sat, waited… ‘pregnant’, cried. You felt your legs almost give out your back pressed against the bathroom wall when you stared down at three positive tests. You slid down the wall sitting yourself on the floor. Your emotions were in overdrive. You couldn’t think you were feeling so many things at once you couldn’t decide what to do. One very real thought in your head that seemed to be at the forefront was what the hell was Trent going to say. You were having to see it be so real and tangible in front of you, god the fact that there was a growing human inside you and you began questioning if you were even ready for this. As much as you and Trent wanted this, pushed for this, loved the idea of starting a family… was this going to scare him? What if he ever left you. You would be alone with a baby that constantly would remind you of him. You wouldn’t know what to do. You began to cry more and more, shaking until you heard your phone ring. It was a FaceTime from Trent… you were fucked. Firstly, there was no way in hell you were telling him this news over a FaceTime so you were going to have to lie to him which you never did but also it was evidently clear in your face that you had been balling your eyes out. You scrambled to try to get yourself to look somewhat. It rang and rang until you knew it was getting close to going to voicemail so you gathered yourself best you could and answered.

“Hey beautiful girl…” he paused and his cheery disposition fell immediately upon seeing you. “Baby, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” He looked so concerned.

“Hi, baby… yeah just feeling a little off or down I don’t know. Just need to lay down before I go over to watch with Marce.” You said it and all of sudden your stomach dropped. Holy shit, you had to face Trent’s brothers and friends knowing you were pregnant.

“Oh, baby. I am so sorry. Anything I can do from here? I feel terrible I can’t be with you right now. Just want to hold you. I promise I’ll be home soon. I love you so so much.” He babled so fast. He was so worried.

“It’s okay, I appreciate it. Just miss you a lot, pretty boy.” You tried your best to smile. When Trent smiled back seeing yours your heart warmed and one of your hands slid to caress over your stomach. You wanted to tell him. You wanted him here so bad. God, you loved him and you needed him now. “Good luck tonight, baby.” You said pushing your lips out for a virtual kiss with a ‘mwah’ sound.

“Okay, baby. Just take care of yourself for me, okay? Need to keep my perfect girl happy. I always do but tonight playing especially for you. Love you so so so so much. Cannot wait to get back to you. Expect the biggest kiss ever the second I step through that door.” You giggled hearing how cute he was and your mood was starting to lift a little. “Talk to you after the game, baby.” You blew you a kiss and you both ended the call.

A few hours later you found yourself sitting on a couch with Tyler, Marcel, George, two friends of Tyler’s, and one of Marcel’s. Jesus, this felt like a lot of people to be keeping a secret from. You would’ve stayed home but Tyler, Marcel, and George are the type that would’ve driven over to your house and physically gotten you to come be with them so here you were. You watched the game and the anxiety you had about the match itself paired with the fact that mere hours ago you just found out you were fucking pregnant! You were practically shaking.

“You good? You’re not being annoying, awfully quiet.” George joked lightheartedly. He stuck his leg out and reached over to tap at yours. He gave you a more genuine look of interest to let you know despite the joke, he cared.

“Yeah, yeah. Just tired and a little nervous about the match.” You spoke quietly. You sat the whole game just kind of silent only speaking when they talked directly to you. You were on your phone and trying to message your OBGYN to get an appointment asap. It was hard to pay attention but the game entered the second half and Liverpool got a free kick outside the box. It was in really comfortable range for Trent. Your hands gripped a throw pillow squeezing it tight as you watched him take it. It was in real time but it felt like slow motion. It was a beautiful goal scored by an even more beautiful boy. All the boys you were with erupted yelling, high fiving, just celebrating. The best part about the goal aside from it helping to lead Liverpool to victory was his celebration. He ran over to a camera near the corner flag flashing a big smile and made a heart with his hands, blew a kiss and pointed directly into it mouthing a ‘for you, baby’ your heart just melted. You wanted to cry. He had no idea what he was coming home to but he was already making you feel better. He was so adorable. You were chuffed with how cute he was until all the boys in the room turned to look at you and started razzing you with ‘oooOooOo’s and childish comments about ‘sitting in a tree’ all sorts of nonsense.

Even from afar Trent had made you feel better. When you drove home that night and finally settled in he called and you had a mushy conversation exchanging I love yous and can’t wait to see yous, telling him how proud you were of him, that you loved the celebration. When he said he would be back tomorrow morning it triggered a wave of anxiety to come rushing back. You ended your nighttime call with him and started to get ready for bed. You really started to overthink. How were you going to tell Trent when you saw him tomorrow? You could barely sleep trying to plan.

You settled in on his side of the bed that night. You just wanted to get close to him in some facet, his pillows, his scent. In a funny way, Trent’s life wasn’t really even his anymore. You were a rain storm that drenched his whole life all at once and he totally saturated yours. You completely infatuated him from day one in New York and you were besotted before you had even met. You besieged his senses and changed his very being. He turned your life upside down. Every time Trent’s eyes locked with yours and your with his, you both knew that what you had was a bond and love that would last a lifetime. He was yours, you were his, and now you just had to tell him that you were about to have something that would be both of yours together, securing and cementing your connection that much more. You set an alarm clock to get up early tomorrow to prepare for no doubt a day that would change your relationship forever.

•

Thank you for continuing reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter / series … 🤍

Final part 🥺 - Chapter 30 xx

Don’t worry, the sequel ‘Ours’ will be out soon!

#trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagines #you’re mine fic #taa x reader #taa66

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packing-n-punching · 10 months

Text

FRIENDS IN THE DARK - Chapter 1

Ellie Williams x Reader x Abby Anderson - TWILIGHT AU

Word Count: 6.1K+

Content Warnings: Uninvited Visitors, parents being proud of you, USE OF Y/N, nicknames (from parental figure), motor vehicle accident, being chased/hunted, Ellie-Abby beef, Abby having beef with Mel, Abby in general in this tbh…

Men, Minors and general fuckheads DNI 💚

The prologue can be found here

Jackson, Wyoming. It’s a quiet town. The sort of town where nothing ever seems to happen. Surrounded by hills and woods, people who are born there eventually move away nine times out of ten, those that do stay have been there for generations and can’t escape the monotony of the town. It’s the kind of town where one is never rudely awakened. Especially on the weekend.

The morning after your first night in Jackson, the nearly eerie silence that seemed to descend across the valley is broken so abruptly that the thundering noise can only be described as strange, forcing you to wake early and not due to your body clock. But to a heavy handed knock on your front door, maybe choosing the room with the front facing window was a bad idea but you’d made your bed now all you had to do was lay in it… well a you put a mattress on the ground and had to lay on top of it, but that’s besides the point. Throwing a fleece blanket over your shoulders you peek out the open window, stood there was a girl. You lean on the window ledge and poke your head further to try and see her better, but with little success, only being able to gather that she was blonde with an extremely impressive shoulder span.

Shrugging into your jeans from the day before, you quickly get down the stairs to answer the door, the blaring of the radio from the kitchen explaining why your mom hadn’t answered the knocks. As you stand in front of the door, you smooth the creases in your shirt from having slept in it last night and pull the doorknob.

Blue eyes meet yours and a small smile comes to her face. “Hi. I’m Abby, I live across the street." She tilts her head towards a rather impressive two storey house with a vintage Chevy out the front. You pause for a moment looking towards where she motioned but thankfully catch yourself and open the door wider, “Wanna come in?” She nods and steps in as you close the door behind her. “I’m Y/N, by the way. Mom’s in the kitchen if you want?” Politely Abby nods and follows behind you as you head into the back where you push the door and find something akin to a bomb scene. Amid pots and pans, silverware and slow-cookers, stands your mother with her hair tied out of her face with a bandana and beads of sweat amassing on her furrowed brow.

“Mom. Mom! MOM!”

“Huh? OH, GOOD MORNING SLEEPYHEAD!” She turns and twists the volume down on the little portable blue radio, “Who’s your friend, doll?” At this Abby extends her arm towards your mother and shakes her hand, her grip is firm and confident, “Abigail Anderson, ma’am. I live down the road.” They continue to chat as you lose yourself in thought…

It’s the name that causes you to stop in your tracks, shattering your coherence. Wait- this is Abigail Anderson?! The same Abigail that was your first kiss in elementary school at eight years old?! The same Abigail that braided your hair at recess in the school yard? The same Abigail that always swapped half of your peanut butter and marshmallow fluff sandwich for half of her chicken salad sandwich? The same Abigail that hugged you so tight that last day of school, whose tears had made your shoulder damp and you held each other one final time before you left Jackson for what was supposed to be forever… Abigail- Abby. She’s all grown-up now, you suppose you have too, she probably didn't recognise you for that very reason just as you hadn’t clocked on to her. Looking at her as she talks to your mom, her hair is still the same dirty blonde more golden than hay-like as it had been but it is confined to a braided prison that falls over her shoulder and onto her shirt, a shirt that does nothing to hide the fact her shoulders are so toned and broad how she’s clearly built an incredible amount of muscle. The freckles up her neck are new, maybe from the summer sun. And they trail up to her ears, little golden brown flecks and her eyes piercing blue, glacial and bright. Further down her face her mouth is moving, and she’s looking at you- She's talking to you. Oh fuck. OH FUCK-

“Sorry, I lost my train of thought… what was that?” Shit. Count on you to sound so fucking ditsy, but at least she’s smiling, maybe she likes bimbos. Wait why would you think that-

“I was asking if you needed a lift to school on Monday? You’re going to Johnson-Bailey High right?” Abby’s trying to start a conversation and you can’t even think straight.

“Oh yeah, I am.” Awesome, common ground to start from again, “Are you going into senior year too?”

“Yeah! Hopefully we’ll have a class together,” She’s moving from her spot on the breakfast bar, and is dusting herself down, “well, I’ll leave you to get sorted out. Call me if you need a hand with those tables and boxes?”

Your mom is wrapping her arms round over Abby’s shoulders to hug her as the blonde girl attempts to make it to the door, and you’re left following behind the pair. “Thanks for coming over Abigail, please tell your father he’s welcome over anytime and you are too.”

“I’ll see you later, Y/N?”

“I’ll see you later, Abby. It was nice seeing you again.”

“You too, really nice.”

As you close the door you walk away as Abby waits outside the door for a few moments, mumbling under her breath, before jogging away of her own accord. Meanwhile your mother returns to the kitchen, you in tow.

“It was nice for her to offer you a lift, make sure you thank her on Monday.”

“I will, mom.” And boy you wish you could do more than just thank her.

The rest of that Saturday breezes by, from unloading the moving truck to constructing the newly purchased ikea furniture, with your hands full the whole day you never even notice how tired you are until the your head hits the pillow on top of your now put together bed, the Friday night’s mattress now having a place to rest, your phone on your nightstand and plugged in to charge buzzes with a notification just as you’re dozing off. You decide to check in the morning. Despite your tiredness and complete willingness to fall asleep, something keeps you tossing and turning. A burning sensation, like someone holding a lighter too close to your flesh. Pulling the quilt over your head eases the feeling a bit, enough for you to finally fall into a deep rest.

When you wake on Sunday morning at a far more reasonable time than the day before, you pick up your phone, finding all that's displayed on the screen is the time. You could have sworn that you’d gotten a message last night but brush it off.

That Sunday morning and afternoon follows a similar path as the previous, unpacking the boxes and shuffling around mini mountains of clothes and kitchen ware. It hadn’t occurred to you in the chaos of the past two days that you had school starting that next day, the weekend had been rattled through so quickly that both you and your mother hadn’t had time to rest - the rest that the weekend would serve you under normal circumstances, but these weren’t normal circumstances. Abby had come over around noon, said she was coming back from a jog and left you her mobile number for the morning. You had forgotten that she’d offered you a ride.

Pushing past your mothers relentless teasing of ‘oh you’d be so cute together’ and ‘such a pretty couple’, you finally get her to back off with a sharp “Mom. I don’t know if she’s even into girls.” With your mom now quelled at least partially, you hide in your room opting to sort through the boxes of your personal belongings.

By the time books are on the shelves and the majority of your clothes have been tucked away into the closet that sits to the left of your bay window, it’s late. Like super late, 11:45 isn’t that late you tell yourself initially but then remember that you should be up at 6:30 at latest… Deciding that you’d be best sleeping immediately you text Abby as you crawl into bed to check that her offer of a ride still stands and much to your relief it does. With clothes for the morning on the desk beside your full and definitely heavy backpack, you feel confident enough in your preparations to set your alarm. Abby will pick you up at 8:00AM with that thought in your mind you drift into a contented sleep, small smile on your lips.

The alarm sounds and your phone vibrates on the nightstand, you wake with a most unhappy groan spewing from your mouth. You definitely should have gone to bed earlier. Steam and hot water provide your achy muscles a modicum of relief as you soak in the spray of the shower, the water pressure is definitely better here. Getting dressed, you look outside the window relief rushing over you as the morning is misty and overcast but for the first time since Friday night, it’s not raining.

You greet your mother as she comes out of her bedroom, dressed in her casual wear. “There’s some cereal in the cupboard and milk in the refrigerator, but I’m going to get groceries after talking with the doctor.”

“Are you not feeling good?” She shakes her head, yawning while trying and failing to speak at the same time. “You’re trying nursing again?”

“Hey! I’m good at it, plus it’ll pay more than waitressing or being some retail assistant.”

“Fair.”

You sit at the table, scrolling through your phone. While checking your tumblr a knock at the door snaps you from your passive scrolling, the digits on the corner of the screen read ‘07:53’. Abby likes to be early. Noted. Leaving the spoon and bowl to clatter in the sink, you snatch your backpack and throw it over your shoulder before yelling a hasty ‘Bye Mom!’ to your mother through the front door from the front porch.

Abby waves at you from the bottom of the driveway, her posture is relaxed as you open the car door and drop down into the seat.

“Hey, you ready to go.” The blonde looks to your face firstly then to the backpack at your feet and finally back to your face once more, meeting your eyes.

“Ready as I’ll ever be?”

She smiles at your answer but doesn’t mention why as one hand puts the car in drive and the other pulls at the steering wheel. Her stance never changes from the calm, confident and collected aura she exudes. The small talk she makes is pleasant, the little tidbits of information the two of you exchange quickly help you re-establish a bond and the twenty minute car ride goes by in what seems like a blink of an eye. Her dad hadn’t remarried since her mom had died, she was captain of the lacrosse team, she’d broken up with her boyfriend 3 weeks before you’d arrived because she found him cheating on her. It was nice to talk to someone other than your mom, and boy did it help that Abby was easy to talk to.

Pulling into the large gates and red brick walls that bordered the grounds of Johnson-Bailey high school, Abby parks the car up in a section set aside for the seniors. The school looks much less intimidating than it did when you were younger, the brick carries on from the walls and makes up the exterior for the front school building but the extensions and external gym building juxtaposes the classic red brick with their stark white and metal make up. Hundreds of grumpy teens and even grumpier teaching staff mill about the front of the school, reluctant to be back to normality following the summer break. It feels normal. Normal is good.

Abby waves goodbye to you as the assistant principal singles you out and pulls you over. Standing next to the finely dressed lady (‘Miss Dandridge’ she had said) is a very pretty girl, thick curly hair tied back from her face and light makeup enhancing her dark features. She introduces herself as Nora, and your personal ‘buddy’. Despite the forced friendship aspect of the introduction, Nora is extremely likable as she makes small talk and gives you a quick tour of the school building on your way to your joint home room. Opening the door, Nora heads to the back of the room and sits in the spare spot next to a familiar blonde.

Following the lead of Nora you move further into the classroom and find a seat next to a tall Asian boy with the floppiest black hair you’ve possibly ever seen. He leans over and offers you his hand, “Jesse. You new?”

Taking his hand, thankful for him approaching you first, “Yeah, Y/N. I’ve just moved back.”

He smiles, “Well, it’ll be nice to have a fresh face ‘round here. Jackson’s a bit shit, to be honest.”

You laugh at his seeming ‘down to Earth’ness and continue talking with him until the man that had previously been sitting at the teacher’s desk gets up from his spot and the scraping of chalk against black board alerts you to his shift in demeanor.

“Good morning, Class S-1. I hope you had an enjoyable summer, I’ll be your home room tutor and your English teacher. My name is Mr O’Bri-”

The door opens and a girl comes in a heavy blush on her face as she rushes past and sits down at the desk directly in front of you and Jesse and as she scurries around, fixing herself in the seat Mr O’Brien locks eyes with the girl. “Dina, see me after first period.”

“Goddamn it…”

Aside from the initial interruption of the Dina girl, the period passes swimmingly. And the one after that, and the one after that. The day continues smooth and steady as a drumbeat and lunch rolls around before you have time to realize. Following the stream of students into the cafeteria, you look around and spy Nora and Abby sitting beside some other people in letterman jackets around a circular table in the corner, after a small amount as you approach the table. Abby gives you a smile as you approach, pull a chair out and sit down. You breathe a sigh of relief as Nora introduces you to the rest of the table, a few guys and a couple of girls. There’s a tension you immediately pick up on a few side glances between Owen and Mel, deciding to ask Abby about it on the ride home at three thirty you keep your voice down and occupy yourself with the mystery meat in a hamburger bun.

The lunch is pleasant and the company is definitely the cause of it being so. As you find yourself walking back to class with Manny, the brown haired boy keeps you in chat as you head towards the physics classroom. Manny sits behind you as the teacher instructs you to sit along the benches each row separated by gender.

There are no familiar faces in the room, but as class drags on you feel a burning sensation at the back of your head. That’s familiar, but you can’t place why or where from. Looking back at the rest of the class, green eyes meet yours. They’re burrowing into yours as you struggle to break the contact. You finally snap back to reality with a nudge from Marta who’s sat beside you. You clear your throat and try to ignore the churning in your stomach as you can still feel the pine needle eyes stabbing into your back. As the bell rings, you rush to your final class. Throwing the notebooks and pens haphazardly into your backpack, charms around the zips clinking together in your attempt to make a quick get away. You don’t notice as one of the button badges on the front of the bag pops off as you fling a strap over your shoulder. But she does. Her eyes lock onto the cute little smiley face pin. Long fingers wrap around it and slip the accessory into a jean pocket.

By the time the final bell rings to signal the end of the school day, you’re relieved to say the least. The flushing of students towards the front of the school and out to the parking lot sweeps you away until you’re in front of Abby’s car, waiting for her to show up. To be fair to her, she had warned you that would most likely be running a bit behind the rest of the student body as the coach would be looking to talk to her. And as it was currently twenty to four, she was turning out to be correct. Nora walks past and waves as she hops into her car, a little green fiat. Abby can’t be too far behind as Nora was a part of the lacrosse team too. Scrolling through your phone, enjoying the screen time for the first time since lunch, you get lost in the endless dopamine hits the silly little TikToks give you. You’re completely in a world of your own when a poke to your arm shocks you. And there she is. Staring you down once more, is the green eyed girl from Physics.

She says nothing as she sets her longboard on the ground allowing herself to slide a long, bony hand into the front pocket of her baggy jeans, the belt seeming more of an accessory than a functional piece of clothing as it does nothing to support the denim laying loose around her thin hips, you get your first good look at her the auburn shaggy bob she has frames her face nicely if not causing her to appear a even more gaunt than her skinny, pale frame already is, the freckles across the bridge of her nose and up her cheekbones are comparable with constellations. Pulling her hand out of the pocket you see she’s holding something, something small and sentimental. She holds it out for you to take, “here,” she says and you take it hesitantly from her. You meet her eyes again, they’re still looking at you with as much focus as when you had your first encounter. You give a soft, nervous smile, “Thanks, where did you-”

“WILLIAMS. FUCK OFF.”

Abby’s voice booms out across the empty parking lot. You turn on your heel to look at the blonde as she moves at great speed towards you and the other girl, Williams… it must be her last name. As Abby comes to stand between the two of you, the slight warmth to the auburn girl’s eyes vanishes. She backs up and pulls the skateboard away with a slight yank of her leg, one foot rests on it allowing her to rock back and forth giving an air of arrogance to the smaller girl. “Easy! Down girl,” this elicits a guttural rumbling from Abby, “I was just returning something.” Abby lunges towards the skinny girl but you grab the blonde’s arm and pull her back. In comparison to Abby this strange girl was akin to a rag doll, small and frail looking in your eyes. The skater girl takes this as her chance to back up and she does.

“Watch it, Williams. You better fuckin’ watch it.” Abby calls out after her as she moves away towards the backgate of the school.

You reach out and meet a muscled shoulder with your hand as your touch causes Abby to snap back to reality. She opens the passenger side door for you and lets you get in before hopping around to the drivers side and sliding in. The journey home is quiet and tense. Turning your head to face the blonde, she answers your question before you even finalize it in your own mind. “Nobody, nobody good anyways. She is trouble. She will always be trouble.”

“Why’s that, Abby?”

“Bad breeding, at least in my opinion.”

She clicks the knob for the radio and music starts wafting through the car easing the tension as Shania Twain comes out from hiding in the speakers, as the karaoke begins any tension is washed away with the titters and giggles of pure unadulterated fun.

Abby drops you off at yours before pushing on towards her own home. opening the door you find the house empty and devoid of life, letting your backpack lay up against the breakfast bar you spot a yellow sticky note on the worktop, ‘Got some groceries. Snakes Snacks are in the pantry. Got an interview for the hospital. Love you, Mom.’ With a fistpump of celebration, you poke your head into the pantry only to see it much fuller than nine hours ago. Thank god. Grabbing a cereal bar you go upstairs and get stuck into your homework, this keeps you occupied for a few hours until eventually the front door opens, closes and the scuffling of shoes being cast off and relegated to a corner tells you your mom is home. “Sweetheart! I brought take out!”

With a fist pump and silent cheer, you close your laptop over and chuck your history textbook to the end of your desk. The Oregon Trail can wait, you’ve got chinese food to eat. “Comin’ now, mom!” You yell whilst running down the stairs, stepping into the kitchen you see your mom holding a plastic bag with several takeout boxes inside. “You grab plates and I’ll get some drinks, then we can have a TV dinner and you can tell me all about your first day?” Your mom suggests as she is already head and ears into the refrigerator, poking around for some cans of soda.

The flickering of whatever late night chat show is on the screen makes for ambience as you spill the gossip of the day to your mother, her face is nothing short of comical as you tell her about the tension between Owen (your mom laughs heartily at the description of him you give, of his hair being a dirty blond hedgehog with his eyes being too close together, like an opossum,) and Abby. The strange girl that had returned your pin. You even mention joining one of the clubs at school.

“Sweetheart,” your mom starts, “can I talk to you, adult to adult?”

You nod and panic flashes across your mind and definitely across your face, but your mother doesn’t seem to catch it and looks relieved.

“I’m glad you’re being so open. I was scared… I was very scared about coming back. And when your dad…”

You keep quiet, letting her ramble and fumble through her words as you watch as she becomes more and more lost in her mind before you wrap your arms around her, comforting her, soothing her worries, bringing her back to earth with a few words,“I know, mom.”

She sobs into your arms, tears wet your shoulder leaving your t-shirt damp and darkened on one side. She cries long and hard until she eventually falls asleep, grip on you loosening as your mom loses consciousness. You wiggle out of her grasp, take the blanket from the back of the couch and throw it over her, placing a kiss on her forehead you move to the kitchen and do the dishes. The street lamp light doesn’t reach this far around the side of the house but the moon is enough to at least not leave you to stare into an abyss of total darkness, the tree line starts about two hundred and fifty yards from the back porch and you watch as a fox pokes its head out from the brush. It makes its way across the portion of grass that makes up your backyard before stopping dead in its tracks. The dishes are forgotten as you watch the small canine look around panicked. It quickly sprints back into the green foliage and it disappears from view.

Getting back to the dishes, you finish the chore quickly and choose to make your way to bed, turning the TV off on your way while making sure your mother hasn’t woken up. She hasn’t.

Returning to your room, you see that you’ve left your laptop open and your books are still scattered about the desk. Taking one look at the half finished homework, you close the laptop and stash it away into your backpack. “That’s enough of that,” you mutter under your breath.

Stripping and getting dressed again for bed, you crawl in under the covers and settle down for the night. Turning over onto your side you see the curtains in The corner of your room flutter as though there was a light breeze, it’s then that you notice the window cracked open a few inches. “Fuck me…”

Feet meeting the cold floor you scuttle across the room and close the window completely, good and tight. Hopping back into the warmth of the various layers of quilt and blankets, you’re asleep as soon as you close your eyes.

The days in the valley town turn to weeks with nothing strange or startling to really speak of. You seem to be getting more forgetful lately. Your things are seemingly shifting about your room. You’re probably just being silly and misplacing things, at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself.

The high school lacrosse season has started and Abby had tried her best to rope you into joining the team, but with the absolute disaster that was tryouts you’ve come to the realization that sitting on the bleachers cheering on your friends (new and old) is definitely the best place for you.

Abby had let little tidbits of information slip, about how Owen was her ex and left her for Mel and how she’d later come out as bisexual as a result of the relationship disintegrating. The confirmation that she was into girls had you internally kicking your feet, punching your fists and screaming until your throat was so raw that it could bleed, but you decidedly keep that to yourself. The little crush that had completely taken over your mind, Abby crawling into every little crevice that wasn’t taken up by school or the various relationships you’d been establishing or reestablishing.

You’d grown close to Dina again, her boyfriend Jesse by extension. Dina is… talkative to say the least, occupying most of your AP math class with her chittering, and you’re yet to meet this elusive Ellie you’ve heard so much about from her venting and seemingly never ending gossip. From ‘oh my god! Ellie and Cat from S-3? They kind of had a huge argument-’ to ‘Ellie is ditching class again, I’m surprised she hasn’t been kicked outta here by now, that’s what happened to her back in Boston!’ Based on what you’d heard, Ellie could only be described as a badass juvie escapist. And that’s how you’ve come to be sat in Jackson’s only diner, The Clay Pit BBQ, on a Friday evening after school waiting for ‘Ellie’ and Jesse to show up.

Dina sits across from you in the booth as you take in the cringe worthy old western themeing that seems as though it was plucked from a young child’s bedroom or a roadside tourist trap. A milkshake is sat in front of Dina with her admitting to herself more than saying to you, “I really shouldn’t be having this… lactose intolerance is a big thing with my family,” you nod at her more to quell her than to actually provide any opinion on her predicament, while a large cup of water and a plate of fries in front you. You both thank the waitress and begin to eat until a cough and playful punch lands on your shoulder. Jesse. You scooch further into the booth, the old faux leather squeaking underneath your movement. But as you turn to look at the others it’s not Jesse that’s sat beside you but the ‘Williams’ girl. The one that had returned your pin and the dots line up in your head. Dina had always said about her ditching to go skateboarding, and under the table is the same longboard as she’d made her escape on weeks prior.

“Ellie, this is Y/n.”

Dina turns to you now, “Y/n, this is Ellie.”

The air fills with a heavy tension, Dina and Jesse both look between the two of you and to each other as though having a silent conversation while Ellie keeps looking at you, as though trying to read you. Green eyes meeting your own eyes with such intensity that a heat begins to spread up your neck and it takes Jesse kicking the auburn haired girl and jolting her out of her trance-like state before she sticks out her hand. “Hi?”

‘Is that all she’s going to say’, you think to yourself as a laugh escapes your lips outwardly and you shake her hand. “Hi.”

Ellie doesn’t eat much but orders an apple cobbler and attempts to make small talk, despite the encounter starting off stale and almost jumpy as the ice breaks you find yourself relaxing into her company as though you’d known her as long and as well as you had the other pair, but you can’t seem to shake a niggling at the back of your mind that there was something off about Ellie Williams.

As the evening continues you settle into a comfortable chit chat, and discuss this and that, what’s there and what’s not. Everything under the sun. Until the waitress from before approaches your table to tell you that they’re closing up for the night and you gather your bits and ready yourselves to leave. As you stand outside the diner, you realize that your phone had died and with the only way to contact your mom dead as a doornail, Jesse asks you something you hadn’t planned for, “How’re you getting home?” You give a huff of frustration and shrug your shoulders, “I’ll walk it’s only a half hour anyways, I can take a shortcut through the woods. Dina pops her head from around Jesse's side and pipes up, “Are you sure, I can’t carry everyone but Jesse can walk home if you want to get on?”

“No I’m fine, genuinely! Besides, you both live on the other side of town.”

Ellie shuffles her way from inside to stand beside you.

“I can walk her home.”

“But Els, you live-”

“Dee. I’ll walk her home.”

Sensing the finality in Ellie’s tone and probably wanting to avoid being the cause of a scene, Jesse and Dina hop onto her minty vespa scooter, and the tall boy waves a long limb as they pull out of the street and down the road out east.

“Ellie. I appreciate the sentiment but I think a bit of alone time would be good for me?” You tell her, its the honest truth but not the whole truth. Internally you’re screaming. ‘Why would she do that? Dina said Ellie lived near her. Why would she offer to walk you in the completely opposite direction to where she needed to go?’

“Oh…” She looks disappointed but quickly fixes her face, “I- I guess I’ll see you round then?”

“Yeah, see you at school?” She lets go a small smile at your good natured teasing.

“Yeah…”

You part ways as she sets off on her skateboard, quickly picking up speed as she propels herself forward, following the same road as Dina and Jesse had just gone down. In a flash of flannel and beaten converse, she’s gone and you start the trek home.

The late evening twilight turns to night it seems as you set off and you are left with a predicament. Either brave the dark of the woods and be home fifteen minutes faster, or take the long way round and stay in the safety of the luminous orange of the streetlights… Taking one look at the storm clouds beginning to form in the western sky, you quickly make up your mind. Woods it is.

Pulling the purple hood up over your head as the occasional spitting of raindrops turns into a gentle pouring, getting past the small saplings and shrubs that make up the treeline you breathe out a sigh of relief at the umbrella provided by the canopy of the tall ancient pines. A thick, choking mist is rolling in, concealing the ground from your vision. The trek is tedious, those people that came before you and also opted for your choice of the protection of the trees have left a somewhat easily traversable path between the roots. The silence of your surroundings that during the day would be comforting is anything but as full darkness takes hold. The only sound is the trodding of your feet against pebbles, leaves and twigs. The half moon peeks out from the clouds occasionally amid the rain, the slivers of light it gives off let you know you're still on the right path and spur you onward.

Snap.

Loud and clear.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

The cracking rings out over the pitter patter of rain on the leafy surroundings.

It’s what causes silence to break and it dawns on you why the woods had been so silent before. They were afraid. The birds, the deer, and the elk. The moose, the eagles, and horses. They were all afraid. And doing their best to stay out of the way of the local apex predator. You had walked head first into the lion's den. Panic sets in as you pick up speed, feet propelling you forward over tree roots and through branches.

Run.

You have to run.

As you run the backpack on your shoulders jostles around, keyrings making clinking sounds with each step. Another creaking noise pulls your attention back towards your surroundings as you attempt to focus on something aside from your labored breaths and the blood thundering in your ears. The same sound comes from behind you again. “Fuck.” It sounded closer than before, ‘where’s it coming from… holy shit… I’m not ready to die…’ Fear has you whipping your head around to the direction you think the sound had originally come from. You hear a follow up rustle as if it knows what you’re thinking. ‘Shit.’

You feel like an antelope in a nature documentary. Meager, mortal prey for a wild, powerful, immortal predator. All common sense is thrown out a shattered window, basic human necessity drives you. The animalistic need to escape courses through you. Instead of sticking to the path, you run straight. Jumping over logs, and avoiding puddles. Your sneakers are going to be destroyed, your hoodie is flailing about as your arms pump back and forth. A glimmer of hope in the darkness appears ahead as the rows of trees begin to thin, the tawny light of a streetlamp. Through the rain and the mist it’s hard to determine the exact distance left, the orange tones bleeding through the weather like paint through a cup of water. The trees are skinny and short, saplings and bushes as the ground turns to soft green grass beneath your feet, you don’t stop until your feet hit hard tar. A road now under your feet.

Your legs burn, your head is light.

The glow of the streetlamp above you fills you with warmth as the adrenaline fizzes out and your breath comes back to you. Lungfulls of damp, cold air rake through your chest.

Just letting the relief flood your mind, you feel the warmth of big wet crocodile tears tracing down your cheeks. You remain unmoving as the rain continues to soak you, you haven’t felt more alive than at this moment in an exceedingly long time. The surreal nature of your escape has you standing in the middle of the road, head reeling. As you close your eyes and take another deep breath, you fail to see the lights coming around the corner.

Your ears hurt before anything else does, the screeching of rubber on tar. Cold metal throws you several yards, searing pain in your shoulder, up your neck, and down your side. Above you is a girl. The light above her head like a halo is the last thing you see as you collapse in her arms.

I hope you guys enjoyed the first proper chapter, I wanted to keep it a little longer but felt that this was the best place to cut it off.

If you wanna be added to/removed from either my TLOU tag list or the tag list for this series (FITD) drop me a message!

Tag list: @moonlightdivine @hi2647 @jasmine-gazaille @mortallyfurryjellyfish @soft-and-lush @viswifetotallyreal @chrry1ovr @paleidiot @sawaagyapong @macaroni676 @godswlwwarrior

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #tlou x reader #tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #Ellie Williams x reader x Abby Anderson #tlou twilight au #twilight au #werewolves #vampires #Friends in the Dark

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loveissupernatural · 2 years

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**read chapter one here** - **read chapter two here** - **read chapter three here**

Morpheus/Dream x fem!reader

In Your Dreams

Chapter 4

“A single dream is more powerful than a thousand realities.”

-J.R.R. Tolkien

It was like a bomb went off.

Blinding blue light, a suffocating vortex of wind, a bone-shattering tremor of ancient power that sought to pull you apart at the atoms.

You tried in vain to shield your eyes with a shaking hand, hoping to catch even the smallest glimpse of something, anything, to ground you. The basement was shaking. It felt like the floor had been ripped from beneath you, as if some primordial force of nature was drawing every ounce of oxygen from your body. The blustering, lashing gusts were making it almost impossible to breathe.

But then, whipping turned to a gentle touch.

You slowly opened your strained eyes to see glimmering white sand barely shifting in the now-tender breeze. A luminous blue sky opened above your head, dotted with fluffy white clouds and brushes of glowing pink. A gem-colored ocean lazily lapped at the soft sand and a waft of salt water tickled at your nose.

You knew this beach.

You had daydreamed many times here in your youth, using it to escape the confines of your increasingly dull reality. You lost count of how many afternoons waned away in this place with a book of unusual subject and a sleepy smile. It was exactly as you remembered, maybe even more colorful.

A seagull called overhead. But the sound was wrong, forebodingly sharp.

The bird flew over your head and carried with it a dark sky, full of swirling grey clouds. Distant thunder rolled and the landscape began to fade away. The beautiful sea vanished and was replaced with dunes of rough, unforgiving sand. The breeze, no longer a featherlight touch, was dry and strong. It told of a storm coming.

The chill of fear trickled from the top of your spine and creeped underneath your skin. It was ice freezing in your veins.

A figure was beginning to emerge from a wave of reflective heat and blinding light. Its silhouette was growing closer, its gait graceful but powerful. As it drew closer, you recognized the head of wild dark hair and the outline of bone and sinew.

You could see him clearly now – imposing, ethereal, and still gloriously naked.

Your eyes raked from his sharp collarbone and defined shoulders to his icy blue eyes. He was terrifying, but still so beautiful. Your mind was having trouble wrapping around him. He reminded you of a fallen angel, dangerous but with a rippling undercurrent of seduction.

The otherworldly man bent slowly, dark eyes never leaving yours, and stretched his long fingers through the coarse sand beneath his feet. His palm closed, grasping onto the grains with a clenched fist. He rose again to his full height, slow but purposeful, and took a step toward you. For the first time since seeing him inside of that glass prison, you were truly afraid.

···

His power was radiating through the air, through every modicum of sand. It was unfettered. It felt limitless and boundless in your bones. You were feeling the brunt of it, not filtered by a binding circle or glass orb, and it felt so incomprehensible that it scared you.

He stopped a few paces in front of you, eyes unblinking and fathomless. Your breathing was shallow and your chest was heaving. You were dizzy.

His head lowered so that his face would be closer to your level. His dark brows were furrowed and framed his penetrating stare in a way that made you gulp.

His full lips parted.

“You have freed me.”

His voice was amber and honey, soft but rumbling like a distant summer storm. The sound poured over you in a warm wave, leaving your skin prickling.

A very uncomfortable combination of fear and awe had congealed in your throat, capturing all of the words that you longed to say. One question finally made its way out of your mouth.

“Who are you?” you asked. Your voice was small and breathy.

He took another step closer, only a few feet away now. His shoulders squared and he drew to his full height, sharp jaw clenching with thinly-veiled pride.

“I am the King of Dreams,” he breathed, his tongue caressing every syllable like a sonnet, “the Ruler of Nightmares. I am Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless...”

You swallowed hard, so hard that it was painful.

You hadn’t just released any dream creature, any old manipulator of nighttime fantasies—no, you had released a god.

“That’s…” you gulped again, your gaze struggling under the weight of his, “that’s a lot of names.”

His expression was impassive, but he saw something in yours that made him take another step closer. He could not be any closer now without touching you. Was this it? you thought. Was this the moment he killed you?

“You need not be afraid,” he said, voice gentle but flowing with quiet authority. Your heart was thundering painfully in your ears at his proximity, at the pull of his voice. It ghosted across something deep within you.

“Okay,” you whispered. The word was trembling, struggling to break through that lump in your throat.

The king’s head tipped to the side, eyes studying you in a way that made you feel like the exposed one. He was standing so close that most would consider it socially unacceptable even if he was clothed. The Lord of Dreams was so regal, and still so strikingly naked. Your face felt so hot that your cheeks were tingling with numbness.

“You showed me kindness when I had become quite convinced that humanity was incapable,” he breathed. His eyes had been wandering your every feature, like it was some kind of puzzle that he was trying to solve. He was still confused by your empathy.

You couldn’t help it, your gaze darted to his lips before settling on his incredible eyes again. He was so close that you could feel his breath ghosting across your face.

“I… I just did the right thing,” you replied. Your voice was finally starting to return, as pitiful as it sounded. “It wasn’t a hard choice to make.”

The air was filled with a thick silence. He regarded you, head still cocked, bold gaze searching your eyes for anything deceitful. After a beat, he let out a breath through his nose and straightened again to his full height.

“I am grateful,” he stated. His tone was measured, like he was being careful not to come across as emotional, but there was an undercurrent there of feeling that you were sure you weren’t imagining.

The air was charged, the ashy clouds swirling faster. Your fingers itched to touch his alabaster skin, now so very close and unobstructed by glass. You wanted to somehow show him, through your touch, that you expected nothing in return. That you simply cared.

Morpheus moved back, as if he could sense your intentions, and dropped his stare from yours for the first time. Something in your chest deflated. It felt like you had been unplugged.

He turned away from you, heading back toward the direction from which he came. You were stunned by the intensity of just how much you wanted him to stay and you couldn’t stop the plea that burst from your throat.

“Wait!”

He stopped, back rigid and ramrod straight. He did not turn toward you.

“Where – where are you going?”

It came across much more desperate than you would have liked. How contrite your emotion must sound to a god.

“I must attend to unfinished business.”

His tone was full of vengeful promise, the clouds above your head darkening from grey to black. A very ancient human instinct squeezed your stomach, warning you of the danger in the air. You sincerely hoped that one day you would never be on the receiving end of his wrath.

He was walking away again, strut full of menacing purpose. So many questions and pleas burned in your chest: Don’t leave me, Take me with you, Will I ever see you again? But you shoved them down.

Instead, you called out, “Will you be alright?”

He stopped again. This time, he fully turned toward you, something swirling in his icy orbs that took your breath away. He didn’t answer your question.

He breathed your name, his tongue twirling around it and lips caressing it in a way that sent a jolt of heat through your insides. The foreboding landscape dissolved away around you and was replaced with the scorching blue light and thrashing gales.

Through the howling wind, you heard it. So soft, so seductive.

“Sleep.”

The King of Dreams raised his closed fist and opened his long fingers with gentle care, revealing the mound of sand that he had taken from the desert inside of your head. His lips formed a perfect ‘O’ as he blew it out of his palm and toward you. The sand expanded and became a dark cloud against the blinding blue light, dancing and snaking around your body with ease.

It touched your skin like a lover, poured into your mouth like warm syrup, and you were fading from the world. Happily.

Your knees buckled, your body ready to drop to the hard concrete floor. But it didn’t.

Two strong arms caught you.

The hard outline of his body was the last thing you remembered before being lost to that tempting pull of darkness.

___________________________________

Your sleep was the deepest you experienced in years.

It was almost dreamless.

It was so very warm, so very pleasant, until you were plagued by terrifying visions. You saw it like flashes from a camera bulb, quick but intense. A black cat, a journey down a dark hallway, and a menacing black silhouette with the glowing eyes of a stalking predator.

“Alex! Alex, please! Wake up, darling!”

You were jolted from your sleep, gasping, disoriented. You were in your bed.

Paul’s screams were echoing down the hall in the early morning light, desperate and panicked. You jumped out of bed as fast as your unsteady feet would allow, a choking feeling of despair in your chest. Something inside of you told you what you would find.

You bolted into the master bedroom, hair flying and a sob on the edge of your lips. Alex Burgess was lying in the bed with eyes darting around inside of his closed eyelids. His head was moving back and forth, as if he was fighting something, disturbed whimpers escaping from his lips. The emerging light of the sun through the bedroom windows shined on his sweaty skin.

“He – he won’t wake,” Paul sobbed to you, turning to meet your concerned gaze with eyes full of tears. You gulped back the cries that wanted to rip from your throat, immense guilt enveloping you like a suffocating blanket.

“Paul, I – I’m so—”

You stopped yourself. What were you going to say? Paul, I’m so sorry for releasing the vengeful God of Dreams from your basement that I wasn’t even supposed to know about in the first place? Or what about, Paul, I’m so sorry, but I’m the reason your husband is gone forever?

You exhaled shakily. “I’ll call the doctor.”

The doctor confirmed what you knew in your heart. Alex Burgess had fallen into a coma that he would never return from. An inconsolable Paul looked sick when the basement guards told him that Edwin had quit the night before and never showed up for his shift. When Hattie and Randy saw his tear-streaked face, they knew. They blamed themselves, but Paul, in his infinite grace, did not.

He descended to the basement with you in tow, telling you hoarsely that he wanted to show you something.

Paul opened one of the glass doors for you. You stepped into the dark room slowly, guilty tears stinging your eyes. The binding circle was blurred, the glass was shattered, and the familiar hum that you’d grown to love was gone. The room was empty, dead.

“I should’ve known,” Paul’s sorrowful voice echoed through the shadowy room. “I knew it would happen one day… just not today.”

Your gaze dropped to the glass-covered floor, blinking back the tears that were begging to fall. This was all your fault. You knew, deep down, that this would happen if you released the Dream Lord.

“Those – those guards, they feel awful,” you said hesitantly, unable to meet his eyes. You had been formally introduced to them that morning. You felt awful is what you really wanted to say.

“It’s not Randy or Hattie’s fault,” Paul sighed, taking a step toward the broken orb of glass. He kicked a shard on the floor absentmindedly. “It’s ours. Mine and Alex’s.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because, Roderick Burgess trapped something in this cellar that was never meant to be held,” he replied almost instantly, forlorn. “And we… we were too afraid to fix his mistake.”

You knew in your heart that this was true, that the ultimate fault really did lie with the Burgesses. But you had played your part, and for a kind heart like yours, it was a heavy burden.

“I wish… I wish there was something I could do to help you,” you offered, heart breaking for Paul. The love that you observed between him and his husband for the weeks you were there was truly beautiful to witness.

Paul gave you a watery smile and put a hand on your shoulder.

“Maybe help me with – with some preparations?” His voice broke on the last word.

“I’d be honored.”

___________________________________

After Alex Burgess’s funeral and a heartfelt goodbye to Paul, you left the Burgess house for good. Not quite ready to go home, you rented a small cottage in a nearby town from a kind elderly lady. Flying back to the States already meant that you would be returning to your old life, the one with something seriously lacking, and you didn’t want to do that. Not yet.

Something inside of you wanted to stay here, in England, at least for now. You wanted to be close to where you met the otherworldly man with eyes that told of universes. You were afraid that the further away you got from the Burgess home, the further away the memories would drift from you.

You never wanted to forget him, the King of Dreams.

You closed your eyes and remembered Alex’s casket and Paul’s tear-brimmed eyes. Don’t forget, you told yourself, he’s the King of Nightmares too.

Despite now knowing who he was—what he was—you couldn’t just let him go. He was powerful, dangerous, something other, but to the despondent ache in your chest none of that mattered. That hum, that vibration that resonated in your very cells… you missed it. Now that you’d experienced it, you weren’t sure that you could ever live without that feeling again.

But you were only human, and he… he was something so ancient that words couldn’t do justice. You were but a blip on his radar, a tiny ant in an ever-expanding universe that he would surely forget if he hadn’t already.

It had only been a week since you released him, but it felt like so much longer. Every time that you fell asleep, you appeared in a world that you recognized as your beloved dream universe. You hadn’t been here in ages, especially since you’d arrived at the Burgess house. Your sleep was fitful, fleeting, and dreamless while Lord Morpheus was locked underneath your feet. Now, it was like a veil had lifted and you were able to return home.

But your haven of escape had changed. Something was different.

You could see past the borders of your own dream now. The hills of tall, green grass that danced in the fragrant breeze ended abruptly, revealing a wasteland of dark rock and churning clouds. Previously, you never even noticed that your dream had a border. But now that you could see the desolation stretching on in the distance, you wondered how you had ever missed it in the first place. It was like someone had removed your rose-colored glasses.

Every night you ventured closer and closer to that border, working up the courage to breach it. You were a consistent lucid dreamer and you were always aware that you weren’t in the real world the moment you closed your eyes. You would fabricate flowers and trees, rivers and brooks, beaches, even small creatures that would roam your little stretch of dreamland. But every time you tried to create something to root beyond the border, it would dissipate into a pile of dark sand and blow away.

You chewed on your lip and twirled the cup of Sleepytime Tea in your hands. It had grown cold. You must have been daydreaming.

The one thing that you longed for more than anything else was to see Dream again. It was a pull in your gut that made you want to sleep every hour of the day. Every night since his release, you called to him in your dream world, but he never came. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was beyond that imposing line, that if you finally had the courage to go poking and prodding into the dark that you would find him.

As you settled into your small bed, you decided that you would venture into the unknown. You would tread the soil untouched by you and test its limits. The emptiness of what lay beyond that border reminded you of a nightmare, but you would search there anyway. Your unbridled curiosity always won over in the end.

You turned off your bedside lamp and closed your eyes. You made a conscious effort to slow your breathing when you noticed swirling shapes begin to dance behind your eyelids. This was always how your dreaming started.

Those shapes flowed, fluttered, and changed colors. They stretched and molded and glimmered until they began to settle at your feet, turning into lush green grass and pirouetting butterflies. The familiar scent of white poppies tickled your nose and you opened your eyes. The two suns that kissed in the sky moved, bringing swaths of pink and orange light with them. They began to set on the horizon of the ocean you’d created the night before, casting vibrant hues that danced in the water.

You turned around.

Behind you, only a few steps away, was the border. Lightning struck in those curling dark clouds, a warning.

Even though you felt like this was something you shouldn’t be doing, that you weren’t allowed to do, you took a deep breath and held it as you scooted a toe past your remaining grass and into the black sand. Thunder rolled over your head, like a growl in the chest of a beast. With bated breath, you moved your other foot away from the soft carpet of green and into the ominous grains.

You stood there for a moment, waiting for lightning to strike you dead or for a gaping mouth of sand to swallow you whole. But nothing happened.

Hesitantly, you stretched your hand out in front of you. It was shaking and damp with sweat. You steeled yourself, then with everything you could muster, you visualized a winding road taking shape before you. You wanted bricks of white, smooth marble to cut through the bare landscape and lead you to Morpheus.

Slowly, so slowly at first that you thought it was just a gust of wind tickling the ground, the sand began to move. It was stubborn, like it didn’t want to move for you, but you just focused every thought on Dream, on how badly you wanted this, of that intoxicating quiver that encased your bones when you were near him. As if giving up, it parted like water, revealing a path of snaking black marble cut with veins of gold.

Well, you were going for white marble. But that’s okay.

You let out a gleeful giggle of disbelief and placed a bare foot onto the road. The golden veins glistened to greet you, as if saying hello.

“Wow,” you sighed appreciatively. You brought you other foot to rest on the marble. It was cold.

You cautiously moved one foot in front of the other, eyes in front of you taking in the ever-parting black sand and stormy clouds. With every step you took, the sand parted a bit more, as if where it was leading you was a secret that would only be revealed once you reached your destination. You felt powerful, but also a bit like you were sticking your hand in a proverbial cookie jar.

You weren’t sure how long you walked through the endless dunes of black, but after what felt like an eternity, an ocean appeared and stretched in front of you. The water was almost as dark as the sand, but it glittered with bits of dancing purple and starlight. The streams of glistening color moved through the calm waves as if alive, as if waiting to shape themselves into something once commanded.

It was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

The dark sea sleepily licked the black sand that blew toward it, dancing out of your way. The path was beginning to curve into the water.

With slight trepidation, you edged your big toe into the waves. It swirled around you, tickling your skin, and began to part as well. You placed both feet into the dark ocean with more confidence now. The waves began to divide like the Red Sea. The colorful slivers of starlight were an aurora, swaying through the walls of water. Suddenly, the path dipped deeper into a descending crevice. You couldn’t see the bottom. The edge of sea floor ended abruptly.

Well, you’d made it this far. It would be a shame to turn back now.

With bated breath, you gathered every ounce of courage that you possessed and took the leap. Literally.

You were falling, but it was gentle. The lightless air swirled through your hair like water, but then you realized, it was water. An invisible chord pulled you by your ankle. You were sinking further, further. Your world was shifting and spinning and you didn’t know which way was up.

Then, as quickly as it had begun, it stopped.

You were emerging from the depths, floating into the air, gasping for cool and forgiving oxygen. The sea dripped off you quickly, as if it couldn’t wait to leave your skin, and you were instantly dry. Gently, almost kindly, the dancing air lowered you onto a dark wooden dock.

The sight that met you was unbelievable.

A gargantuan wall of horn and ivory towered in the distance. It was laced with the most beautiful and intricate carvings of faces, creatures, and landscapes that you had ever seen. Even from this far away, you could tell how utterly massive it was. It stood, erect, in the middle of the black sand beach. Unwavering and unmovable.

The moment your foot kissed the black sand, it twisted and separated for you, revealing the same black marble. The golden veins snaking through the stone glimmered again in greeting, like it was happy you’d made the journey.

A childlike smile tugged at your lips. This was more beautiful than even your wildest imaginings.

You followed the welcoming path all the way to the gates, absolutely enthralled by their sheer size the closer you drew. You noticed a massive carving in the middle of the doors, of something resembling a spine connected to the head of an insect. The image reminded you a bit of an antique gas mask.

With tentative but curious fingers, your touch brushed a white gate door, featherlight. You pulled your hand away to find that golden sand was stuck to your fingertips. It glistened in the faint light of the cloudy night sky.

The sound was so deep and trembling that it made you jump back in surprise. It reverberated through the immense ivory walls, making them shake loose more golden sand. You were afraid that you’d broken something, that a giant monster was finally coming to swallow you for wandering outside of your dream, but the sound stopped.

The echo of an enormous bolt unlatching vibrated through the gate and through your body. The marble beneath your feet hummed. The gates were separating for you.

An ever-widening sliver of a view appeared as the doors continued to open. Expecting to see mind-blowing beauty that you couldn’t formulate in your craziest fantasies, you held your breath and resisted an excited giggle.

The sight that met you stole the breath from your lungs.

It was hollow, dark, desolate; an endless stretch of colorless grounds covered in murky water. And at the middle of it all, a once-glorious castle that was crumbling before your very eyes. Gaping holes sat where towers once stood. Spires were bent and decayed. Arches that spoke of past splendor were disintegrating as you watched. Thunder rolled somewhere in the foggy distance.

You had never seen this place before and you didn’t know how long it had been like this. However, something in your gut told you that this was the ultimate tragedy, that this place was once a shimmering gem in the center of this land. A piece of your heart fell into your stomach like a piece of stone falling from the castle wall.

Your quick footsteps echoed around you in the eerie silence. You were certain that if anyone still resided in that castle, without a doubt, they would hear you coming. You were the only speck of life on this bleak stretch of swamp and sand.

You were overcome by a sense of urgency, a need to enter the castle. Would you finally find him, the King of Dreams that overtook your every waking thought? Your chest ached with a longing that felt quite pitiful, really. You were a bit embarrassed by its intensity.

You walked through the decaying threshold. The castle was falling apart just as much on the inside as it was on the outside. You had to keep your eyes on your bare feet to avoid sharp stone and shards of broken glass.

“Excuse me.”

You jolted in surprise, panicked gaze rising to see a figure approaching you from a cracking entryway. She stood at your height, clad in a neat dark suit with coattails. Her brown skin was smooth and almost glistened. She had no hair to hide her pointed ears or her deductive gaze. Her brown eyes were full of intrigue as they assessed you over the top of her circular spectacles.

···

“And who, may I ask, are you?” she questioned. Her tone was business-like but not unfriendly.

You felt like you’d been caught doing something naughty.

“I’m, uh, I’m Y/N,” you replied meekly. The woman’s gaze continued to study you.

“Well, Y/N, I’m afraid you must be lost,” she said, taking a step closer to you, “for you are not supposed to be here.”

You gulped, feeling admonished. So, that gut feeling of doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing was right on, then. The woman’s eyes narrowed curiously and she tipped her head to the side, still reading you.

“How did you get here?” she asked.

You looked down, shyly pushing a dull piece of rock around with your foot. You shrugged.

“I just wanted to explore,” you admitted quietly. “Something told me to venture out of my dream. A path led me here.”

“A path?” she repeated, perfectly shaped brows rising in surprise.

“Yeah,” you nodded, eyes rising from the floor to meet hers. You felt a spark of pride in your chest. “I made one. If you look outside of the gate, you may still be able to see it.”

The woman’s eyelids fluttered in disbelief, taking another step closer to you. She was reviewing you closely now, like if she looked hard enough she would see a clue on your skin.

“You – you created something here in The Dreaming?”

Your brows knitted, confused by her shock.

“Sure. I change things around in my dreams all the time,” you replied, not understanding what the big deal was. You chewed on your lip thoughtfully. “Today was the first time I was able to make something outside of that border, though.”

“Border?” Her voice dripped in incredulity. “You were able to see the border between your dream and another?”

“I haven’t always been able to see it,” you said quickly, like a child trying to placate their parent. “It only started a week ago.”

The woman seemed equal amounts shocked and concerned. Embarrassment poked underneath your skin at her astute stare. She regarded you with a look that made you wonder if you were growing a second head.

“You should not be able to leave your dreams,” she said finally, shaking her head. You thought you detected underlying fear with her concern. “And you should not be able to create whatsoever, let alone a path through the waters to lead you here.”

“Where is here?” you asked, swallowing down your prickling sense of shame.

The woman adjusted her spectacles, sighing. “You are in the heart of The Dreaming.”

“This is the heart?” you asked, looking up at the disintegrating ceiling and destroyed stained glass windows. “It looks… broken.”

“It is,” she said solemnly.

Your reason for being here prodded at the base of your neck, imploring you to ask her what you wanted to know more than anything else.

“Can – can I ask you a question... I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

“Lucienne,” she replied. Her eyes were suspicious but not unkind.

“Lucienne,” you repeated, giving her a kind smile. “The only reason I left my dream was because I was looking for someone. Hoping to see someone, actually.”

You had piqued her curiosity. She watched you over the edge of her spectacles again.

“And who, pray tell, would that be?”

“Morpheus.”

She blanched, but recovered quickly. “You know Lord Morpheus?”

“Well, yeah,” you shrugged, a bashful smile overtaking your face at the very thought of him, of those eyes that seemed to peer into the depths of your soul. “I released him.”

Lucienne gasped. The sound echoed through your head like a ringing church bell, and suddenly she was gone. The castle melted away and you were surrounded by black nothingness. It was cold. A force pulled at the back of your navel and you were falling, falling, falling…

You shot up in your bed, breathless and gasping for air. Your wobbling hand reached up to your forehead and wiped away a thick layer of sweat.

You collapsed back onto your wet pillow, clamping your eyes shut and punching your soaked sheets.

You were so close.

**read chapter 5 here

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samijey · 7 months

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Always great to see Sami get a win with the Blue Thunder Bomb 💙

#sami zayn #wwe #wweedit #crown jewel #wrestlingedit #wrestling #stuff i made

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sserpente · 1 year

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A/N: Request from @vampirexsoldier and based on an idea I got watching the new Guardians of the Galaxy movie. Enjoy, everyone!

Words: 3412 Warnings: vampire!Reader, blood, feeding, burns/fire

“That’s a terrible idea! What if she finds out?” Peter Quill bellowed with utter outrage in his voice.

Gamora’s proposal wasn’t entirely bad. The question as to How do you keep a dangerous vampire—you—who could lash out and kill everyone in seconds in check? had hung in the air unanswered until Gamora chuckled and spoke up. “You make her fall in love, how else?”

And because it was rather unlikely anyone was up for the task or even emotionally available for that matter, everyone’s eyes promptly travelled over to Mantis. She shrugged with her eyes widened.

“Okay, even if that works… who do you want to make her fall in love with? I don’t volunteer, I don’t wanna end up as Dracula’s supper!”

“Who’s Dracula?” Drax asked. Quill rolled his eyes.

Surprisingly though, it was Thor who spoke up next, a sly grin playing on his lips. “My brother.”

“Your brother is Dracula?”

“What? No. That’s not what I meant.”

“Loki? You wanna make her fall in love with the guy who almost took over Earth a few years ago? That’s not a recipe for chaos, that’s a recipe for disaster,” Quill said.

“Loki’s changed since then, Quill. And I think… I think having someone infatuated with him will do him good. Besides, I think she is his type for him to help keep up the act. She’s quite… mean.”

Gamora chuckled once more. “He won’t like that if he finds out though.”

“Are you serious? You’re seriously gonna do this?” Quill threw his hands.

“I am Groot!”

Thor’s eyes widened. “He’s what?”

“Right behind you, you oaf.” Loki’s voice slid through the air like one of his daggers and instantly, the room fell silent. Even Nebula who had elected not to partake in the conversation at all looked up to see what would happen next.

“Loki!” Thor called out innocently, turning on his heel to face him. Everyone in the room could tell that Loki’s hand must have been itching to wipe that shit-eating grin from Thor’s face.

“You heard everything we said, didn’t you?” the God of Thunder asked then.

“That I did.” He was calm. Perhaps a little too calm, even.

“So… so what do you think?”

“I think you’ve lost your mind but that’s not new.”

“Loki, please. If… I mean, if she tries anything, we’ll know you’re strong enough to defend yourself.”

“She’s like a ticking time bomb and until we can rule out she doesn’t work with the enemy, we have to… keep her at bay,” Gamora added matter-of-factly.

“I agree with my sister. She’s dangerous.”

Loki let his gaze wander over the others. Then, he sighed. “Fine. But you…” He pointed at Mantis who flinched in response. “…You lift that magic as soon as we’re off this ship.”

Thor patted his brother on the shoulder when she started nodding frantically.

“You’re staring, Trickster.” Your feet were crossed and propped up on the dashboard, careful not to press any buttons and turn off autopilot or something silly like that. You’d been engrossed in a journal Quill and Nebula had picked up from that abandoned spaceship. “Still don��t trust me?”

Technically, they didn’t want you to read it. They didn’t trust you. You couldn’t blame them really. While none of their suspicions about you were true, for you certainly wouldn’t work for someone who called himself Kang, they were right to fear you at least.

People had messed with you too much in the past. It had changed you—you, and your morals. Taking a life here and there and draining someone of their blood to guarantee your own survival might not have been noble but sometimes necessary. Besides, it was hilarious to watch people cower before you.

Looking up from the journal, you met Loki’s blue gaze observing you curiously, and tilted your head.

“Trust is for dogs.”

You’d rather not go into the story of how you ended up on the Guardians of the Galaxy’s spaceship in the first place but they were a means to an end. You needed to get far away from those disgusting demon poachers who had wanted to harvest your fangs as if you were a chicken laying eggs.

In return, you’d offered them your help with whatever it was they were planning on doing against Kang. Loki was by far the one who trusted you the least. It was funny, really. He was outrageously hot and his smile, albeit sarcastic and snarky most of the time, had—metaphorically speaking—pierced your heart with an arrow.

Falling in love sounded so ridiculous you hadn’t properly considered it yet. You were a vampire for heaven’s sake. You didn’t fall in love. If anything, you experienced physical attraction and that all too familiar throbbing right between your legs when you imagined your fangs buried in Loki’s neck all the while his cock was buried in you. You’d simply ignore how your heart jumped every time he entered the room.

Loki was walking on very thin ice today. He had recently, so you’d learned, been affiliated with some sort of time police. In some universes… multiverses (to be quite frank you still couldn’t exactly wrap your head around it all) it was Kang who was in charge of this so-called TVA, in others, they were doing everything they could to stop him.

It was a fight you were not about to get involved in any more than necessary but you had to admit, you more than just liked the formal attire he wore whenever he went back there with the help of these silly little time doors.

You’d been dancing around each other for weeks at this point and while the others steered clear of you as best as they could, Loki seemed to somehow always be around you, watching you—probably expecting that as soon as he turned his back on you, you’d go running to Kang or something like that. That, or you’d jump on his back and rip out his throat with your fangs because food was a rarity in the middle of space.

“I can’t say I’m a huge fan of dogs—being a blood-sucking creature of the night and all.”

You had indeed not fed in a while and it was starting to give you quite vivid and filthy daydreams with Loki. The number of positions you had already imagined while you were feeding on him would have had Aphrodite herself blush.

“Right. We’ll be landing on a planet called Solaris tomorrow. Mobius suspects a Kang Variant has taken precedence there.”

“You almost say that like you think I care.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Your skills are amenable. We’ll need you in this fight.”

“Really? You expect me to focus on a fight when you’ll be wearing that? All I can think about is how much I want to grab you by that tie, pull you down to me and kiss you senseless until you beg me to… well.” You winked at him.

Loki swallowed thickly. Taken aback, perhaps, that you so brazenly flirted with him or simply wary of the fact it was a vampire of all beings who was attempting to seduce him.

He opened his mouth but then closed it again without having said anything, making you chuckle triumphantly. “You’re cute when you don’t know what to say. I bet that doesn’t happen a lot.”

His eyes narrowed.

“I mean it, Loki. You’re one attractive god. If I was religious, I’d worship you over Thor anytime.”

The smile he gave you in response didn’t quite reach his eyes. It wasn’t full of suspicion as usual but it wasn’t sarcastic or mischievous either. In fact… you figured it was actually a little sad. Why you practically admitting to him that you’d fall to your knees for him elicited that kind of emotion from him though, you weren’t quite sure.

Perhaps it was for the best. As long as you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that your heart demanded more from Loki than just his blood and his body yourself, focusing on lust and physical desire was your best bet.

With one final smirk, you returned to reading the journal. Loki made it a point not to leave the room and to instead watch you like a hawk.

And here you were now, part of a fight you had wanted to stay away from. But a promise was a promise and you had honour—you’d keep your word, if anything because that meant you got to spend more time with Loki.

Solaris was lovely. Lovelier than Earth in many aspects but then again, food was scarce and most beings on his planet were, well… inedible. It left you a little hungrier than you would have liked given the current circumstances. Plus, Loki’s throat began to look more and more delicious with every passing second.

Loki’s mysterious TVA friend had been right though. Kang—or at least, one of his many Variants—was here. He was every last bit as annoying as your involuntary travel companions had made him out to be, obsessed with ruling the multiverse and time and bla bla bla. You had to resist the urge to roll your eyes as he made you all listen to his grand plan, no doubt an entertaining stalling method for him before he’d strike. You understood him in that regard, at least. Playing with your prey before the killing blow was fun. As a vampire, you’d know.

“I knew you’d come,” Kang finally concluded after a while. “Of course, I wasn’t sure which Variants of you I’d encounter but I must admit the selection is quite disappointing.”

“Oh yeah? Well, you know what, you’re disappointing too,” Quill snapped with his gun pointed at Kang.

“I’m sure—because I’m not the Kang you were hoping to put an end to. You see, I’m always a step ahead. All of my Variants are, in fact. I volunteered to take care of you.”

“Can we kill him now?” Drax uttered. His comment earned him an eye roll from both Nebula and Gamora, followed by an angry “I am Groot”—whatever the hell that was supposed to mean.

“Let’s get this over with,” Rocket added.

“I agree. It might be best to do it quickly and painlessly.” Then, much to your surprise, Kang’s cold gaze fell on you.

“You’re the vampire. I’ve heard of you. It’s quite hilarious how you end up with the infamous God of Mischief in almost every universe.” What the actual fuck. “Or have you chosen Thor instead here?”

You blinked, too stunned to speak for a second. Thor wasn’t your type at all, you had made that pretty clear to Loki, and only recently too.

“You could truly be so much more though. Why would you want to waste away with these self-proclaimed gods? I can assure you that joining me would give your eternal life a much greater purpose.”

“Yeah, go ahead and provoke her,” Quill interrupted, “She’ll rip your throat out before you can say ‘time’!”

“I’d rather gauge my own eyes out,” you added, for once agreeing with the snarky Star Lord.

“Ah, I see… you like him. Well, it wouldn’t truly be a loss, you see. I can always get a new Loki for you. One that is more… compliant.”

“Go to hell.”

“Shame. I’ll have to kill you too then. Let me start with you, actually. It will make this unpleasant fight so much less messy.”

Time to bare your fangs. You could practically feel your eyes turning red, those pointy teeth forcing their way out of your gums to become a deadly weapon. You could feel Loki’s eyes on you when it happened. Curiosity mixed with fascination and vigilance made for a delicious combination. But there was no time to swoon over him now. Not when you began to realise what Kang—calm and irksomely collected—was doing.

Fiddling with the time manipulation device on his wrist, the noise it caused was deafening. It was like the sky above you was screaming in agony as the stars moved and the moon retreated. He was speeding up time, speeding up the night… and you were out in the open, with nowhere to retreat and escape from the deadly sunrays about to dig their hot claws into your flesh.

You shrieked when the first beam hit your skin. Panic set in quickly the very moment you smelled the smoke coming from your own body, the excruciating pain that felt like falling headfirst into an active volcano.

All hell broke loose around you with both the Guardians and the two Asgardian gods breaking into a fight all the while you frantically, desperately looked around for cover, somewhere to hide. You had approximately thirty more seconds before you’d burst up in flames like a phoenix and turn to ashes—only that unlike a phoenix, you wouldn’t be reborn.

“Loki, get her out of here!” you heard Thor roar.

There. A tent. You doubted the thin ceiling made entirely of fabric would protect you for long but it would have to do. So you ran, faster than any human eye would be able to witness, abandoning the group you had promised to help.

Instead, you assessed the damage done. Grunting in pain, you eyed the burns on every inch of exposed skin. Your body was fighting it, pumping both blood and adrenaline through your system determinedly to heal you—but with the lack of nutrition lately, you soon realised that you were too weak. And then, everything around went black and someone caught you in their arms.

When you came to, you tasted blood.

“Drink. Don’t stop.” Loki. Demanding and stern, pressing his wrist against your lips. Your eyes—undoubtedly red—flattered open, a surprised sound escaping your throat. Loki’s blood tasted heavenly. Warm and sweet and salty all at the same time, it felt like you were feasting on freshly harvested honey.

Your body welcomed the feeding with open arms, demanding more and more as it slowly regained the strength it needed to properly start the healing process of your skin. You could feel it tingle and itch with every drop of blood you swallowed until you were strong enough to wrap your hands around Loki’s lower arm to pull him even closer to your face.

He was behind you, you only realised then. Your head was resting on his lap as he was kneeling on the floor, his thighs supporting your head. Fuck, you didn’t want this moment to end, ever, and for some reason, this felt even more intimate than the idea of simply fucking him while your fangs were buried deep in his flesh.

He’s saving your life, a know-it-all voice in your head whispered. That’s why.

Eventually, Loki pulled his wrist away. You licked your lips, slowly becoming more aware of your surroundings. You were back on the spaceship and the atmosphere was, quite frankly, grim.

“What happened?” you croaked, feeling several pairs of eyes on you. “Did somebody die?”

“Kang’s gone. Dead, we killed him,” Quill explained briefly and to the point.

He didn’t need to elaborate. It was a bittersweet victory—after all, there were hundreds of more dangerous Kang Variants out there and it seemed as if this one had merely served as a distraction from the real deal. What was it he had said? Somehow, you ended up with Loki in every universe? What did that even mean? In what way?

“Great. I’m going to take a shower then,” you announced. With as much grace and pride as you could muster after almost dying before all of their eyes, you climbed to your feet and strutted away, turning around the corner to get to one of the small bathroom units that came with surprisingly modern showers.

“Why did you do it?” you heard Thor ask Loki quietly once you were out of sight. You could have been mistaken but it almost seemed like there was a slight smirk in his voice. You lifted your head and froze, tuning in on the conversation. In any case, you’d like to know the answer to that question as well, after all, Loki had always been the one person on his damn spaceship trusting you the least. You surely were hoping you had now proved to him that you did not, in fact, work with Kang—in any universe for that matter.

“She was dying, Thor, and quite frankly, none of you even considered making a move and offering her blood.”

“That can’t be the only reason. Has it got something to do with what Mantis did to her? Did she… did she grow on you a little?”

“But…” Mantis started at that very moment. She was instantly cut off by Loki’s scoff.

“You keep forgetting the very people we both grew up with consider my true nature a monster too.”

“What, so you did it out of solidarity among monsters?” Quill intervened. You rolled your eyes. But what was that Thor had said? What Mantis had done to you? What did she do to you?

“But I…” Mantis started once more. Again, her words fell on deaf ears.

“You’d do well to watch your tongue, Star Lord.”

“Hey!” Mantis finally screeched. Silence. Now they were listening to her. “I haven’t made her fall in love with Loki yet! I couldn’t do it while she was awake and I’ve never seen her sleep before!”

Made her fall in love with Loki. Her words rang in your ear, floating around and repeating themselves over and over like a poltergeist in your head. Made her fall in love with Loki. They had been planning on doing that? Why? To keep you at bay, to keep you controlled? Love was a powerful instrument and that… that was foul. It was vile and outrageous, it was…

“What… what do you mean by you haven’t done it yet?” you heard Loki ask. So he’d been in on it as well.

You growled, turning on your heel to get rid of your leather trousers which were ruined now due to the sun scourging your skin.

“If you didn’t manipulate her emotions yet, then why is she constantly…”

Unfortunately, you were still a little too dizzy to do so. You took the shower curtain down with you as you slipped on the wet tiles, making them all aware of your presence again and unfortunately ending their conversation in the process.

But you were still able to figure out the rest of Loki’s unfinished sentence. He was wondering. Realising, even, perhaps, that all those things you had told him… that you found him attractive, cute, that you wanted to do such deliciously filthy things with him… you had meant them.

And perhaps—just perhaps—that was a little too much for him to bear. You could only imagine the confused looks on the others’ faces.

“If you’ll excuse me,” you finally heard him say. You didn’t even notice you were still cowering on the bathroom floor, leaning against the wall. When Loki entered the bathroom, he helped you up without a moment of hesitation, ignoring your weak protest as he did.

But then, the very second your eyes met, he knew. “You heard it.”

“Every damn word. You’re all insane if you thought that would work.”

“They thought it did. I thought it did.”

So that was why his expression was always so… so sad whenever you flirted with him. He must have thought you’d done it only because of Mantis and it had left him… disappointed? Realising this, it was hard to feel anger toward him. The others, yes. But not him. So instead, you said, “Thank you, Loki. You saved my life today. I’m in your debt—and trust me when I say that having a vampire in your debt is power on another level.” You just about managed to wink before another wave of dizziness made you stumble. The God of Mischief instantly wrapped his arms around you to steady you.

“Do you believe me now then?”

Loki smirked, returning the wink. “Yes, pet. I believe you now.”

“Then that’s your cue to kiss me, Trickster, ideally before I pass out again.”

You knew the moment his soft lips connected with yours that you would gladly pass out again if only that meant you’d feel that gorgeous mouth on you forever though.

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