#its a bit complicated but shes a few years younger than me n does not have the best home life and in her own words no friends | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

13uswntimagines · 3 years

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Never Enough (Kristie Mewis x Reader)

Request: mal x little sister!reader where the reader is always hidden behind mal's shadow

Author’s Note: So I really hope you like this (though it deviated slightly from the Request) and good luck to everyone starting their next semester of college!!

Pt. 2

You drummed your fingers absentmindedly on the table in front of you, your knees bouncing rapidly. You had just won the challenge cup (proving to the world that Huston wasn’t just the land of broken toys), the last thing you wanted to do was a press conference, but coach had insisted. At least you had Kristi with you.

She had taken you under her wing the second you had been transferred to Huston, becoming your best friend (though your feelings were more than friendly). She understood what it felt like to be overshadowed and could more easily grasp the fiasco that was Jill Ellis in charge of a roster.

Her hand grasped your thigh, halting its movement, and continuing on with the rest of the vapid reporters’ question without so much as a blink.

You probably should have been paying attention to whatever the fuck the reporters were asking, but honestly sitting back and letting the vet field the question so you could watch her answer was so much more your speed.

They didn’t want to ask you about soccer anyway, they wanted sister drama and you weren’t in the mood to indulge them.

You loved your older sister. You were adamant about that, but you didn’t always like her. You and Mal had never really gotten along, even as children. You were 3 years younger than her, always chasing after her, and always falling short. You had come so close, only to have it all ripped away.

****

3 weeks before the start of the World Cup

You glared at your packed suitcase, fighting the tears that threatened to fall from your eyes. Your fingers clenching and unclenching in a desperate attempt to keep your opportunity from slipping through your fingertips again.

You could still hear coaches' words ringing in your head. You weren’t living up to your last name, you weren’t good enough to wear it for your country.

You shook your head, retiring your attention to your very excited sister (who appeared to be completely oblivious to your distress). Mal and you were polar opposites. She was bubbly while you were shy. She had made it to UCLA while you had barely gotten into Texas A&M.

She paused in front of you, holding 2 celebration outfits for you to choose from in her hands.

“Cheer up, I’m going to the World Cup and your mopeyness is killing my mood,” She scoffed. You had been sulking since you came back from your meeting with coach, and while it was probably hard for you to be excluded, you should be happy that she was gonna get to live out one of her lifelong dreams.

You smiled weekly up at the woman “And I’m going back to Huston to watch you,” you blinked and pointed to the backless dress on the left, swallowing down the comment about how Jill’s teardown of your career had killed your mood too. “That one, Rosie likes you in blue,”

Mal rolled her eyes. She could practically hear your lamenting in her head. Enough was enough. This wasn’t about you, it was about the team. it was about being happy for others even when you didn’t get your way. “So, you weren’t good enough. You want us to win right?”

You shrugged, scratching the back of your neck. Of course, you wanted the team to win, but you had hoped that you would get the chance to help them in France. To have it taken just days before they left hurt more than you could put into words, all because you weren’t as good as your sister. “She said she could only take one of us and she chose you. It stings just a little bit,”

Mal gave you a scathing look. It was annoying how you were always doing what she was doing, how you were always running after her and her friends. She wasn’t happy when you started to play soccer, cause it was her thing. She was excited that the World Cup was going to be her thing. She didn’t want to share it with you, and she didn’t care how immature that sounded.

“Look, I’m a better fit for the squad, and for once in my life I wanna do something without you. Anyway, I’m going to celebrate, don’t wait up,”

The door slammed as she left, and it reverberated through you like the final nail in a coffin. How could she be so cold towards you? How could she agree with Jill? You sniffled once, burying yourself under a pile of blankets, your tears your only company.

****

“Y/n, my next question is for you,” A different reporter said when Kristie finished answering, pulling you back to reality. You sat up in your chair, blinking owlishly at the reporter.

“Oh, um go for it I guess,” You smiled shyly at the reporter, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. Kristie squeezed your thigh when it began to bounce again. You blushed, more from the contact than from being caught daydreaming.

“First, congratulations on the win and being named tournament MVP,” The reporter smiled, and you nodded at her, the red that colored your cheeks making its way up to your ears. Kristie squeezed your leg again, and you brought your fingers down to tangle with hers.

“How did it feel to really get to show off in front of Vlatko Andonovski,” The reporter asked.

You let out a deep breath, buzzing your lips. How did you feel? You had scored 13 goals and brought the underdog team to victory. You didn’t just show off, you had implemented all the things he wanted you too when he called you up for a camp before the Shebelieves cup.

“Good, I felt good at camp, so it was really nice to get to show him how I’ve improved in the last few months while we’ve been quarantined,” You smiled, glancing at Kristie as she began to rub her thumb on the back of your hand comfortingly.

She was nervous when you got called to camp again. Terrified that they would crush you like they had before. Terrified that she wouldn’t be there to help you through the fallout of seeing your sister again for the first time in months.

*****

“You sure you have everything?” The blond midfielder asked for the 15th time since you entered the airport. You smiled softly at the woman, who was shifting foot to foot, bringing your joined hands up to kiss the back of her buckles.“Yeah,” You nodded, glancing over her shoulder to the taller Mewis sister, who also nodded that you both had everything.

“And you’ll text me when you land and get to the hotel?” Kristie asked, pulling you to a stop and forcing you to face her. You Y/e/c orbs met her worried blue ones.

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, pulling the woman into you and tucking your head into the crook of her neck.“Yes, mom. I promise. Now give me a hug,”

She huffed, but still wrapped around you tightly and placed a kiss on the crown of your head. “I just care about you kid,”

“I know, and I love you for it,” You mumbled, into your favorite hiding spot. “now I’m gonna go get a coffee before I pass out,” You kissed her cheek before heading off towards the crappy airport Starbucks. She watched you go, fingers twitching by her side. How she wished to tell you that she loved you too (probably in a much different way than you loved her, but still).

“You’ve got it bad,” Sam snorted, patting her sister’s shoulder. She was visiting Kristie, so it was easier for her to get a flight out of Huston anyway, and in the time of her visit, her sister’s feelings for you had become abundantly clear.

She was glad that you had a shoulder to lean on. someone to confide in after your fallout with Mal. Though she had had several words with the younger player, the woman couldn’t seem to grasp your pain. At least her sister could understand it better than anyone, and she was clearly helping you overcome it.

Kristie blushed, shrugging slightly. “Maybe a little,” she hummed. It was hard not too. You were actually quite adorable once you let your walls come down.

Sam smirked (how she didn’t know you felt the same way, Sam would never know) “Does she know?”

The older mewis’s lips formed a thin line and she shook her head “no,”

It was complicated. The two of you were roommates, and you were just beginning to pull yourself together in the wake of Jill Ellis destroying your self-esteem.

She watched you grab your coffee, smiling at the young man behind the counter (who blushed). You had this incredible ability to light up everyone around you, like the sun. Though over the years you had lost some of your sunshine, you were beginning to gain it back. She didn’t want you to lose it again.

“Just keep an eye on her for me, alright? She was really messed up after what happened at the last camp,” Kristie said softly, faintly tearing her eyes away to look at her younger sister.

Sam nodded solemnly. “You know I will Kris,”

She knew how much you meant to her sister, and she would help you through whatever this camp brought, even if that meant keeping one of her best friends in line.

****

“My question is also for you Y/n,” A different reporter said, and you tilted your chin up at him in acknowledgment.

“We know that Mal is currently out with a knee injury, any idea on when she’ll be back with her team, and if that impacts your chances with Vlatko?” He asked, scribbling furiously on a notepad in front of him.

You tilted your head to the side, almost like a puppy. You weren’t abreast to Vlatkos’ plans (only that he seemed to be more attuned and aware than one Jill Ellis), and considering you hadn’t spoken to Mal in months, you were also clueless on her progress.

“Oh um, I have no idea about either of those questions, sorry,” You mumbled, biting your lip and shifting awkwardly in your chair. The man frowned at your answer, his pen pausing on the pad as he studied you over his horned rimmed glasses.

“Do you think you could beat her out for an Olympic roster spot? And if your success here will help your chances of taking her spot on the team?” He tried again, pointing his pen in your direction. Kristie’s thumb tapped the back of your hand again, three little taps, helping you focus and giving you a little bit of comfort.

You smirked at the man, masking your irritation behind a quip. “Again, I have no clue. That stuff is way above my paygrade,”

Kristie’s hand tightened around yours in warning, a reminder that biting a reporter’s head off wouldn’t make you feel better. It wouldn’t make them see that you didn’t want to be compared. It would just give them more ammunition to shoot at you.

“Do you feel overlooked, as you’ve continuously performed better than your sister within the NWSL?” A different reporter pipped in, looking at you expectantly.

You shrugged, trying to ease the tension that had suddenly come over the press tent. “Well, I think my average is helped by me not having to miss games due to national team duties,”

You swore a few of the reporter’s lips ticked up, and the pat on your thigh told you that your midfielder counterpart was pleased with the deflection.

“Do you think you’ll continue to be able to live up to your last name?” The horned rimmed man asked a vicious smirk etched on his face. You flinched slightly.

It was the one fear that plagued you. The one shortcoming that your parents preyed on. That you would never be as good as your sister. That you would never be the Pugh that she was. That you were undeserving of the name.

Kirstie’s arm was around you immediately, shielding your opening and closing mouth from the furiously clicking cameras as she pulled you to stand.

“I think this press conference is over. We’re very excited to have won and it’s time for us to celebrate,” She said stiffly, practically dragging your frozen form through the door towards your locker room.

You stumbled after her, eyes wide as you tried to catch up to what was happening. Your brain was still split between its lament over his you’d never escape your sister’s shadow (no matter how hard you tried) and the feeling of your crush’s arm wrapped tightly around you. It made you feel safe and warm and wanted. She made you feel like you had a place beside her, like how you were feeling was important.

She paused, pinning you against the cool cement wall of the stadium. You stared over her shoulder, adamantly refusing to look her in the eyes. You didn’t want her to see your inner struggle, to know that despite all her efforts, you still weren’t confident that you could ever be good enough.

“Hey, look at me.” She said, a finger on your chin forcing you to look up. Her blue eyes studied you for a moment, her hips pressing you to the wall while her other hand brushed a stray hair out of your face. “Are you ok?” She asked, her voice soft, hesitant.

“I’m great,” You scoffed, shaking your head. “I just fucking won the fucking Chaos cup and all the fuck they want to ask me about is how my sister is, and if I think I stand a chance against her in making a fucking roster. She hasn’t even talked to me since-...” your chest heaved as the words spilled from your mouth, like the steam from a pressure cooker unable to be contained any longer.

“Hey, take a breath,” her voice was soft as she wiped away the tears you didn’t even know were burning a path down your red cheeks. You leaned into her warm hands.

“I just. I want to be good enough,” You mumbled, your eyes closing with the admission. You didn’t want to be weak.

“Baby, you are enough. You’re more than enough. You’re funny and cute and an amazing forward. You aren’t your sister and that’s ok. You don’t need to be the best Mal, you just need to be the best, most amazing you you can be because I love you,” with every word she got closer to you, until your faces were mere inches apart, and you could feel her breath fan across your lips.

You leaned in the rest of the way and connected your lips with hers. Your mouths moved together, her tongue gently probing for entrance, which you gladly gave her. Her fingers tangled in the baby hairs at the base of your neck, while yours settled on her hips to pull her closer.

“You said you love me,” You smiled against her lips, pulling away when the need to breathe finally caught up with you.

“Hm, I do,” She hummed back, connecting your lips again.

Maybe to the soccer world, you would always stand in Mal’s shadows, but here in the belly of the stadium, you knew. You were enough for Kristie, and she was enough for you.

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #kristie mewis imagine #kristie mewis x reader

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buckysglow · 3 years

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Captive

Chapter 12 - “Deserving”

SUMMARY: You were held captive by Hydra for years and had only just escaped when the Avengers find you. You’re beyond terrified of everyone and everything around you, but the thing the terrifies you the most is yourself. The things you can do with your abilities are beyond what anyone could possibly imagine.

Chapters: 1 ~ 2 ~ 3 ~ 4 ~ 5 ~ 6 ~ 7 ~ 8 ~ 9a ~ 9b ~ 10 ~ 11

AN: Christmas in May, anyone? Sorry this took so long, I just graduated from college! Also, I posted before and asked if you guys prefer to read fics on Wattpad or AO3, and I would love to have your input on that! I am trying to figure out which one I should post my fics on!

Word Count: Around 5000

Warnings: Mention of abuse and fluffy fluff

You tugged Bucky’s large shirt farther down your legs, tip-toeing down the hall before dawn. It would be Christmas in just a few hours and you had to make sure everything was perfect for the team. You had gotten a little creative with your presents, seeing as you didn’t have money of your own and didn’t know much about earning it. You were thankful that most of the team had hobbies of their own and made it much easier for you to find the supplies you needed to make homemade gifts. You worked very hard on their gifts.

Being what Bucky called “gifted,” you could feel the change in energy in each and every one of your friends. They rarely slept, but when they did, they were so exhausted that their eyes felt heavier than any weights they had lifted that day. And usually their nights were filled with restlessness, tossing and turning, and fighting the covers that were hands in their dreams. Their energy took on a light glow while they slept, one that pulsed with every beat of their heart. Their dreams sometimes became more and more unbearable, as those imaginary hands became their own and they were grasping the neck of another person. Uncontainable, unmanageable guilt became the burden of the night. And you only knew that because that’s what kept you awake; it’s also what kept Bucky awake.

“Everyone has their own shit.” He told you after waking up with a start one night, drenched in sweat. It was usually him comforting you, but this time it was the other way around. He was embarrassed; his dreams made him feel weak and powerless. That’s why you had chosen a dream catcher for him; it would catch those dreams and spirits that kept him awake.

You had been preparing for this for quite some time now, hiding the supplies you needed in your room, under your bed. You glanced at the newly decorated Christmas tree and smiled. When you were younger, your mom would decorate the whole house with you, and it was one of your favorite things in the world. She could be so kind and loving when she wanted. You smiled at one of the few good memories you had, especially ones with her. While she may have been cruel to you at times, she also had her fun moments. That’s what made hating her or resenting her so difficult.

While you were being held by Hydra, those were the moments that you thought about most. They are the things you dreamed of experiencing again. This just added even more complicated thoughts to your already spinning mind while you were with those evil men… to leave one abusive home for another.

You shook your head to rid yourself of those thoughts. You had work to do. The team was in for a treat. You had been preparing and practicing, not only for the decorations, but for another special surprise. You wouldn’t be able to do it for long, so the timing had to be perfect.

“Friday,” you whispered, “what time does everyone typically wake up?”

She ran through everyone’s schedules quickly and you nodded.

“How many of them use alarm clocks?” You asked, praying that she would say all of them.

“Sam.”

You cringed at that answer. “Alright, I’ll think of something…” You made quick work of the decorations, running as quietly as you could from one room to another. When you finished, you stepped back to admire your work.

Paper snowflakes hung from all over the ceiling, the tree was packed with colorful or shiny items, a copious amount of cotton balls had been stretched and torn to look like snow in various places around the tower, Christmas lights hung, and paper trees placed on shelves and tables. You grinned. It was so pretty. You began to jump on your heels slightly, excited for everyone to be awake. You had about two hours to finish up before they all started stirring. All you had to do was put the finishing touches on their gifts and place them under the tree.

You sprinted to your room, sweating from the amount of effort this was taking. You froze when you felt Natasha stir in her bed. She was the one you were most worried about waking. If she even felt a slight disturbance, she would immediately be out of bed to find out what was happening. You squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on her energy. You willed her to stay asleep, praying that she hadn’t heard you. You felt her relax, and your heart eased its rapid beating.

You gathered as many of their gifts as you could in your hands and brought them out by the tree. You rushed to place them under the tree nicely. You had begun to feel some of them awaken and you rushed to turn the Christmas lights on. You added last minute touches to the decorations, and finally you asked Friday to play Christmas music.

You felt Bucky begin to stir then. Your heart began to beat a little faster in your chest with nervous excitement. You couldn’t wait to see their reactions, but you were nervous that they wouldn’t like it. You hoped this would be enough. You wanted to make your first Christmas with them special. You wanted them to know that you were beginning to feel comfortable and loved when you were with them.

“Friday, can you turn the volume up please?” You asked quietly, toes wiggling in your worn slippers. Natasha was the first one out of bed, followed by Steve and Bucky. You could feel them move from their beds and see their energy begin to pulse a little brighter. You were grinning as you felt Tony begin to stir.

When you felt them all leave their rooms, you were nearly exploding with excitement. They were making their way toward the common area, most likely heading for the kitchen for breakfast and coffee. Bucky was falling a little behind the rest, and you were quick to send more energy toward him.

When they had all finally made their way down the hall and into the common area, you were quick to grin at them, “Merry Christmas!”

Their eyes were wide with shock as they took in the decorations and lights. Steve’s smile was growing and Natasha was leaning against the door frame with a small smirk on her lips. Bucky was staring at the ceiling, a look of amazement on his face.

“When did you do all of this?” Steve asked, hand running over the snow you had made from cotton balls.

“Last night! Do you like it?” You asked, feeling breathless.

“This is so pretty, (Y/N)!” Wanda exclaimed, pulling you in for a hug.

“Just promise me you’re gonna clean all this up when Christmas is over,” Tony stated dramatically. He suddenly seemed to notice the tree, “Gifts, huh?”

Sam elbowed him hard, silently telling him to shut up. He gestured in your direction. You were grinning so wide your cheeks hurt. You pulled away from Wanda, hopping on the balls of your feet a bit. You threw yourself into Bucky’s arms and hugged him tightly, barely able to contain your excitement. “Yes, um- I have gifts for you all, but do you want to eat first?” You clasped your hands in front of you and hopped in front of the kitchen, knowing that they would all want their morning coffee.

“I could use some coffee,” Natasha smiled. She wrapped her arm around your shoulders, “Merry Christmas. You did an amazing job.”

“Did you happen to make breakfast? That would have been nice instead of you making a mess,” Tony asked in his typical tone, sauntering into the kitchen. You just rolled your eyes, sticking your tongue out at him. The rest of the team followed, leaving you and Bucky behind.

You turned to look at Bucky, meeting his unwavering gaze. “Merry Christmas,” you breathed, you tucked your hair behind your ear. “Do you like it?”

He made his way toward you slowly, tilting your head with his finger, his lips lingered against your forehead, “You are amazing…”

Once everyone had eaten, you were all gathered in the common area. Christmas movies were playing on the large screen, but the volume was low as you all talked happily with one another. You were seated on the floor between Wanda and Bucky’s legs. Natasha sat on the floor across from you. Steve was laughing about something Sam had said, fingers playing with one of the toy motorcycles hanging on the tree. Sam was seated on the arm of the loveseat that Tony had sprawled out in. You looked at each of them, a content smile on your face.

This was the first time since you were young that you had felt accepted. There would always be worms of doubt in your head, but for now, they were under control. They were not slinking their way into the moment. Your fingers brushed against Bucky’s calf and he looked down at you, only to find you grinning up at him. He leaned down to kiss your forehead.

There was wrapping paper and bows sprawled across the floor from their gifts. You had loved watching their eyes light up with warmth and happiness, and you felt a little bit of the weight you carried on your shoulders fall away. Natasha was wiggling her fingers in the mittens you made her, which made you smile and giggle.

“When I go to visit Clint, I’ll bring them the gifts,” she had told you when you pointed out that you made him and his family gifts as well.

“He said he wants to FaceTime later, so he can see them then.” Wanda interjected, smiling mischievously. They all had their own plans and gifts for you as well, but you had no idea.

You didn’t seem to care about receiving anything at all. “I made Thor something as well, but he will have to wait,” you giggled, thinking about how excited he would be to get the tiny hammer you had painted to look like mjolnir.

“So what you’re saying is that you stole from me.” Tony said sarcastically.

“Didn’t steal, I just borrowed... in a sense.” You giggled.

The team revealed that they hadn’t received a handmade gift in years and that they loved them. Each of them was playing with their gifts or wearing them. A moment of silence wrapped around everyone as they peered down at their gifts.

“I know it’s not much, and you’re all probably used to nicer things, but I hope you like them.” You said, sheepishly peering at your acquired family.

“We love them!” Wanda assured you.

“These are so much better than any gifts you could have bought us, (Y/N).” Natasha nodded.

“Even though you stole most of the stuff that you used,” Tony said, pulling his glasses down slightly, “you did good, kid.”

“Good,” you breathed a sigh of relief. You stood up slowly, pulling the ends of your shirt nervously, “I have one more surprise for you all.”

You carefully made your way to the doorway, standing behind the couch that Bucky and Wanda were sitting on. Everyone was watching you with questioning eyes, wondering what else you could have possibly made for them. “It might take a try or two, but I have been practicing this since my little incident a few weeks ago.” You admitted timidly.

Your heart was thudding hard in your chest, nerves making their way up your throat. You took a deep breath to steady yourself, and closed your eyes. You pictured gold, soft and twinkling, dancing in the sky. You imagined a gentle, gold glow and shimmers of it. You slowly opened your eyes. The team was staring upward, mouths agape and eyes awed. Tony pulled his glasses from his face, mouth open in amazement.

A golden, glowing river flowed above them. Shimmers and flecks of gold rained down slowly, twinkling brightly. Your typical ribbons were moving slowly, wrapping themselves into loose coils. You pushed yourself a little harder, motivated by the childlike wonder on your family’s faces. You conjured up tiny horses and faceless people, some ice skating, others dancing or playing in the golden snow in the space above your heads.

“Wow,” you heard Steve whisper in amazement. You smiled, watching the team closely with their soft and content faces. You loved making others happy. Your eyes flickered over to Bucky, and one of the ice skaters made their way to him. They spun gracefully in front of his nose. His smile was unforgettable.

But soon, you could feel your energy dimming, so you gave one last push. The gold above burst silently into thousands of golden flecks, hanging in the air for a second, and then lazily falling down onto the team. Sweat had collected on your upper lip from the amount of effort it took, and finally, you felt your energy give way.

The gold came flying back into your chest. You blew out a breath, hands shaking with exhaustion. The team looked over at you, smiles still on their faces. Subconsciously, you were aware that they didn’t look scared of your white eyes. You were smiling at them, proud of yourself for succeeding. You accomplished more than you thought you would have. Even if it was only for a minute or two, you had held it longer and made more images at one time than you ever had before.

“That was the coolest thing I have ever seen,” Sam muttered, mostly to himself, but the team was nodding in agreement.

“The little snowballs?” Steve asked, leaning over to him.

“The coolest!” Sam exclaimed.

You gave an airy laugh, feeling a little lightheaded. Bucky was at your side immediately, leading you to the couch.

“That was pretty badass, goldy locks! I thought you could only do that when you were scared!” Tony declared, looking a little stunned.

“I’ve been practicing in my room… far away from people, so…” you laughed lightly. Natasha was still looking upward, a dreamy look in her eyes. Her face was relaxed, in a faraway place. Wanda grasped your arm with excitement,

“Can you show me how to do that? I’ve never made images with mine!”

You giggled weakly, “I can try. I’m not quite sure how I do it, I just picture it in my head.”

“That was amazing, Doll,” Bucky whispered, lips grazing your ear.

“Thank you,” you sighed, snuggling deeper into the couch next to him.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He said quietly, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You hummed happily in response, a tired smile on your lips. “That didn’t hurt you?” He asked quietly. The others were still talking about their favorite parts of your show.

You shook your head, taking a deep breath and continuing, “It did in the beginning, but after a while the pain just… went away.”

He nodded, kissing your temple, “Take a nap. We will be here when you wake up.” And as you started to doze off, you heard Bucky laugh and say, “But did you see the ice skater in front of my face?”

“Wake her up; I can’t wait any longer to give her our gifts!” You heard Wanda exclaim.

You suddenly felt cold, metallic fingers glide over your cheek, and your eyes fluttered. “Good morning, sleepyhead!” Sam exclaimed, sitting opposite of you behind the coffee table. The coffee table had gifts strewn all over it and your eyes widened slightly.

You looked around the room in question, “Those… are those for me?”

Steve tilted his head, while Natasha nodded at you, a soft smile gracing her face. Bucky was grinning widely beside you.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you whispered, shaking your head in disbelief, nervously tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Open mine first; you’re going to like it more than the others!” Tony teased, throwing a wink your way.

Natasha rolled her eyes at Tony, “We wanted to do this, trust me.”

“The bigger one is mine,” Tony pushed, ignoring the sappy moment you were having. You laughed and proceeded to open the array of gifts around you. You were surprised with each one, not expecting such generosity from them. Tony had gotten you a laptop and a phone because you “were behind the times.” Wanda had given you a gift card to a clothing boutique downtown, saying that she was going to take you shopping before the New Years party; this excited and terrified you at the same time. Natasha bought you adorable cow slippers after finding out that your favorite animals were cows. You immediately put them on and were repeatedly wiggling your toes in them. Steve and Sam gave you yellow boxing gloves and said that the matching punching bag was in the training room—it was even bedazzled at the bottom.

You couldn’t stop smiling. In fact, your face hurt from smiling and laughing so much.

“Clint’s calling!” Wanda exclaimed, placing her phone on the coffee table. She pressed the green button and up popped his face.

“That is so cool,” you whispered to Bucky, amazed at how quickly technology has changed.

“Gets me everytime,” he whispered back, planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Merry Christmas, everyone!” Clint exclaimed, his wife and children popping up to say hi. You grinned and waved back. “Hope I didn’t miss anything,” Clint said.

“Just in time,” Wanda assured him.

“Clint,” you started softly, “I made you and your family gifts; they’re not much, but—“

“They’re amazing, look!” Natasha interrupted you, turning the phone to show him the gifts you had made them.

“They’re gonna love the bears!” You heard Clint’s wife exclaim. “Thank you, (Y/N), we love them!”

“My turn to give you something though.” Clint said, and Natasha placed the phone back to face you. Everyone began to smile softly, knowing that Clint had worked hard to pull this one off. “After hearing about your grades and that you didn’t get to go to graduation, I couldn’t stop thinking about it,” he explained, fiddling with his phone. Tony was quick to pull out his own and began swiping. You chewed the inside of your cheek, nerves growing as he continued to talk, “You worked so hard to fit in and I know that’s not easy, so I wanted to do this for you.” Tony swiped one last time, and an image of a high school diploma popped up above your head.

Your eyebrows drew together as you read the name of your school and a loud gasp burst through your lips. “That says my name!” You exclaimed, standing up to read it closely.

“I talked to your school and the school board, and had some people pull some strings,” Clint explained.

“It’s me. I’m some people,” Tony smiled cockily.

You covered your mouth in shock as you read your name over and over again. “You deserved this and so much more, kid,” Clint said softly. When he had heard what your mother did and that your chance to graduate was ripped from you as a teenager, he knew he had to do this for you. He pictured his own kids, and how proud he would be if they had achieved what you had. He had to do this for you.

Your bottom lip began to wobble, and you took a deep breath to keep them from falling.“I can’t begin to explain how much this means to me,” you whispered, voice cracking, “thank you so much.”

Clint smiled at you and his wife hugged him closer. She knew how much this meant to him and had helped him talk to your school board.

“I wish you were here so that I could hug you,” you laughed lightly, wiping away the stray tears that fell.

“You’ll see me soon, kid!” He laughed, loving that you were looking so happy.

“We have one more gift for you,” Steve said softly, “We’ve all talked it over, and decided that we think you’re ready.” Wanda grabbed your hand and smiled brightly at you, pulling you to sit back down next to her. You really couldn’t think of anything better than the gifts you had received so far.

“We are going to wait until after Tony’s New Years Eve party, but we think we should take you back to your hometown for a weekend.” The tears were immediate and fast paced. You buried your face in the sleeves of Bucky’s sweatshirt in an attempt to hide them.

“It’s up to you if you want to go, but we think you should visit,” Natasha whispered, pressing a comforting hand to your knee.

“I-I’m a li-little overwhelmed,” you blubbered, with a loud laugh. The team was quick to respond with their own quiet laughter. “I w-wanna show you guys my favorite book store!” You giggled, and this made them all laugh a little louder, “thank you all so much, I wish I could repay you for everything, for saving me… I just- I promise I will!”

“Aw, goldy locks!” Tony exclaimed, “I’ll take you up on that one day! For now, just try not to stab any of us with those gold things!”

You ripped your hands from your face to see that your fingertips were glowing brightly. Your eyes widened at the realization that your chest didn’t hurt. You held your hand out, watching as it shook with your emotions, but not with pain or agony. “It doesn’t hurt,” you whispered, sounding amazed.

“What?” Bucky asked you, leaning closer to hear what you had said.

“It doesn’t hurt… I didn’t know I was doing it and it didn’t hurt,” you stated, looking at him with wide eyes. You looked back at your hands, holding both of them out in front of you, pressing your energy forward slightly, testing the waters. Ribbons wrapped themselves around your fingers, moving slowly, looking like snakes as they made their way to the ground. You were so overwhelmed with emotions—joy, relief, happiness, disbelief— were you finally free from the agony? What had changed? Was it that you finally felt loved? Your lips twitched with a shaky smile. Bucky made eye contact with Steve, and the two of them were so proud of how far you had come in the short, few months you had been with them.

Careful, that evil voice spoke in the back of your head, don’t get too cocky now. You don’t want to lose control.

You gasped, letting out a quiet yelp. Your energy shot violently back into your body and you wheezed at the suddenness of it all.

“Whoa,” Bucky cooed, grasping your shoulders to steady you, “you’re alright, you’re fine.”

“S-sorry,” you stuttered breathlessly, “I got nervous.”

“You’ve pushed yourself quite a bit today,” Wanda assured you softly, after peeking inside your thoughts for a split second.

You sat back into Bucky’s chest, nodding absentmindedly.

“Yeah, I think that’s enough of the golden light show,” Tony stated, grasping Wanda’s phone, “not that we don’t love to see what you can do because what you did earlier was amazing, and Barton missed it all!” He pointed and laughed sarcastically.

“It was pretty cool, Barton!” Natasha agreed, smirking at the phone.

“What? What did I miss?” He cried, making you giggle and shake your head at their teasing.

After the team had opened all their gifts and dispersed to relax or prepare for the night ahead, you were left alone with Bucky.

“Hey, Doll,” he cooed against your forehead, loving the sleepy look on your face. You hummed a response. Your head was buried in his chest, breathing in his comforting smell. His body was humming with soft energy, causing you to relax even deeper into his side. “I got you a gift,” he whispered.

You looked up at him, secretly reveling in the fact that he remembered to get you something. You were a little disappointed earlier when you hadn’t received anything from him, of all people. Not that it was about the gift, but the thought behind it. You had believed, for just a moment, that he had forgotten to get you something.

“Oh, yeah?” You grinned, inching closer to his face. He grinned right back before reaching behind the couch and pulling out a small box. “Oh, Bucky, no…” you pouted, knowing full well that it was jewelry, based on the box alone.

“Just open it,” he chuckled, pushing it into your hands.

“I can’t accept this,” you objected weakly, smiling at him as you pushed it back at him.

“You haven’t even opened it yet!” He laughed, removing his hands completely from the box to force you to catch it.

You bit the inside of your cheek nervously as you lifted the lid of the box to reveal a garnet ring. It was encased in a gold cage and placed nicely on top of a golden band. You looked up at him with pure bliss. “It’s a garnet,” you whispered happily, fingers running over the gem.

“It is,” he nodded, moving your hair away from your neck, “I- um- I did a lot of research and garnets are known as the stone of courage, and they are worn to guard against danger… and they are also supposed to help with the - um- heart and blood and stuff… Plus, I wanted to get you your own ring, so that you wouldn’t have to keep borrowing Wanda’s.” He was mumbling nervously now, unsure about his gift now that it was being opened.

You grinned up at him, “I love it, Bucky, thank you. This is too much.”

A sigh of relief whooshed past his lips, but he was quick to replace it with his mock confidence. You adored that he had put so much thought into it for you, knowing that it was no coincidence that it was this particular stone. “I hope you don’t think it’s weird that I got you something so…” he mumbled again, watching as you removed Wanda’s ring from your small finger, and replaced it with his.

“No,” you shook your head, “I don’t think it’s weird. I actually think it’s very sweet.”

The two of you fell into a tense silence, and you both found that nerves had settled in your stomachs. You bit your lip and glanced at Bucky quickly. His eyebrows were scrunched together in concentration. His eyes looked far away. You tilted your head to the side, looking at him curiously.

“You okay?” You asked quietly, unsure what was happening.

“Yeah...yes, I just have to do something,” he rushed out, startling you.

His hands were quick to encase your face.

He pulled you forward in one motion, and his lips found yours. You jumped instinctively, but as soon as your brain caught up with your body, your lips were moving in perfect sync with his. His hands found their way to the back of your head, tangling his fingers at your roots. Your shaky hands were taking their time to find his bearded face, and you sighed into his mouth.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to remember how many times you had imagined this moment with him, but every time you had, you pictured yourself being a nervous mess. This time, though, you found yourself more comforted by his lips than anything. You hadn’t realized how badly you needed this from him. He pulled away slowly, resting his forehead against yours as you both caught your breath.

“I have been wanting to do that for so long,” He whispered, lips grazing your nose. You hummed, eyes still closed. There was a sense of comfort that you had never experienced before, and while your heart raced in your ears, it wasn’t from fear, but from excitement. “I hope that was okay,” He whispered, his metal hand moving the strand of hair that fell in your face.

You nodded, eyes fluttering open to look at him, “It was more than okay.”

This was a first for you. A first of feeling this heart wrenching excitement, and your first kiss. You didn’t know if you should tell him, but before you could stop yourself, you pressed another kiss to his lips. “That was my, um— that was my first...“

Bucky’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as he looked over your features. His eyes suddenly went wide, “That was your first kiss?” He grabbed your tiny hands in his.

The side of your mouth quirked, and you shyly looked down at your joined hands, nodding.

“Oh, baby,” He murmured, pulling you closer to him. You couldn’t tell if there was pity or admiration in his eyes, but you couldn’t get yourself to feel anything other than overwhelming elation. “I can’t wait to show you how much more there is to life than the inside of a cell… if you let me…”

You smiled up at him, big and wide. You couldn’t wait either.

@jamesfrickingbuchananbarnes @multi-fan @krugeforeveryone @meshlababy @larry-pringles @witchymarvelspacecase @melconnor2007 @ohnosiren

@nopevilleluas @winter--plum @poe-also-bucky @serzhantjamesbuchananbarnes @life-is-fuucked @emilyinbuffalo @buckybarnesisalittleshit @theboldandthebootyful @dr121413 @buckysquad @smartashes @notsoprettykitty @tjhammomd @linsteadandchicagopdarelife @justareader @whatsbetterthanfantasy @nikkitia7 @intenselyupset @thenightmarebeforebucky @sebatmanstan @feelmyroarrrr @dazedandcarefree @fly-f0rever @skeletoresinthebasement @colouredwater @cierrabolton @hotemotionalmess @lady-sloan @avixenrose @captainmqmeep @professionally-crazed @ponyboys-sunsets @abimarvelparker @buckysbestgirll @buckybarnesisapreciousplum @sarcastic-ohohoh @notsoluckybucky @angel34jolly-blog @kitherey @heismyhunter @steadysuitenthusiast @bxckybxrnes02 @irreplaceable-spacexual @stephanieluvspie @canumoveyourseatup-no @cicismith95 @kinqshley @buckybuchanan @bxtchybrie @almondbuttercup @deanmonlove @missmalfoy1703 @petitelaurie9 @jade-cheshire @mrs-pendragonofthetardis @themistsofmyavalon @archer-whovian-violinist @gypsygirllover19 @maygenjayne1 @zhang91yixing @rileyloves5 @brutalwerewolf @fizzylollipop12 @sergeant-buchanan @followeroonieclassic @marvelgoateecollection @gingerbatchwife @sofiadiaz04 @hatterripper31 @mellifluous-melodramas @lilasiannerd @james-bionic-barnes @the-introverted-photographer @betherz5683

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kishillaa · 3 years

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SSM21 Day 28: Thank You

That girl, with big green eyes, pink hair and that huge red ribbon on top of her head, is so, so annoying. Sasuke thought, staring at her wrapping the bandage around his arm. The wound he accidentally caused when he tried to throw the kunai in his hands the way his brother did, crossing that kunai bearing hands infront of him and throw it skillfully to the target.

He just had to injure himself when a girl walk by. Today of all time.

The said girl shyly beamed at him, "All done!" and his thought shifted to how does a person can smile so widely and still look really good.

He clear his throat a few time. When he finally found his voice, he spoke, "What's your name?"

The oddly pink haired girl blink that big green eyes of hers, her cheeks tainted pink, before she answered, "My name is Sakura Haruno, you can call me Sakura." Her voice was velvety and quiet, not like her shameless smile, she actually appeared to be really shy.

He nodded, drink up the drink Sakura offered earlier as he stares at the wide eyed girl, "Sasuke. Sasuke Uchiha." He said, mimicking the way he heard his brother introduced himself once–"Itachi. Itachi Uchiha." He had said.–to a stranger on the street when they walk together.

He almost roll his eyes when the girl–Sakura–send him another big smile of hers, "It's nice to meet you, Sasuke-kun."

He nodded, jump off from the bench and stand on his feet. He turns to look at the girl over his shoulder, seeing how she's fidgeting as she gazes at his back, "Thank you... Sakura."

He put more effort in sending her his gratitude, lowering her voice, make sure his tone is genuine, ernest, and his gaze never waver from hers.

He didn't hear what she had said as he walks away swiftly. Many things he was sure of after that; her big expressive green eyes attracted him more than he allows himself to, her oddly pink locks is strangely suiting–he likes it–and that annoyingly huge smile of hers is actually pretty.

When their names were announced in the same genin team, Sasuke sighed harshly. It couldn't be anyone else, could it?

The biggest idiot in their class–how did he passed, anyway?–the good for nothing pink–hair–big–green–eyes–overly–wide–smile fangirl and a supposedly jounin level ninja who couldn't even dodge an eraser on top of his head.

He was proved wrong of course, during that mission in the land of waves. Kakashi was a well known ninja–who would've thought a pervert with a tardiness problem make such popularity–while Naruto actually defeat a guy that even he, Sasuke Uchiha, couldn't–he is however one hundred percent sure he could too, Naruto just had to get in the way making him took those senbon meant for him. Sakura didn't do much, but she did stand infront of their client in an act to save him from the coming threat; it signifies her courage.

He remember vividly how his body moves on its own as he placed himself in between Sakura and that chuunin, and Naruto and the senbon.

It was an instinct somehow, attempting to cut his life short and stand before the blow meaning for someone else. It was strange, to try and safe someone you found so god damn annoying, and someone you couldn't stand not having a bicker with. But he did, anyway. He doesn't even understand why.

When he gained consciousness again, he was thankful for Sakura's cry over him. He feels matter, to her anyway. At least he's not the only one in this, whatever it is. That feeling is so extremely weird that he brushed it off saying how heavy she is, and let her hug him even though the senbon sticking into his skin pain him even more because of her embrace. He wanted to thank her that day, like he did when they were younger, he have no clue to why, but he thought it'd be too out of character for him, so he stayed silent and let her help him up and walk over to Naruto and Kakashi.

It was at that moment that he admitted Sakura meant a lot, she's someone important. Naruto and Kakashi too, as much as he hated it.

He hates this, he hates her, he hates how she reminds everything that they went through together, promised thing she shouldn't be. And when she said,

"I–I love you so very, very much, Sasuke-kun. If you would only be with me. I won't let you regret it, no matter what. I will make it fun every day. You will definitely find happiness. I'll do anything for you, Sasuke-kun. I'm begging to you, please stay!"

His eyes enlarged, his heartbeat quicken, so does his pulse. Sakura is offering something he has been missing for years, and he knows she will do it successfully, he had tasted quite a bit of those happiness she promised. It was tempting.

But when she said,

"Or take me with you!"

He calmed himself down, let a stressful but quiet sigh out. This is Sakura, she is everything he wants. He wants everything she's offering, but there's just something he need to do, before gaining those over.

He turns around–he especially hates the tears that cascading non stop down her cheeks, he hates it when she cries; because of him particularly–saying, "You really are annoying." It was his way of saying, I remember, I remember that day, I remember every annoying second during our mission together as team 7. I remember it all.

He turn around then, ready to furthering his journey, but Sakura just had to shout. She just had to run towards him. She just had to insist he stays. He move swiftly, using the new found speed he developed with Kakashi, and went behind her.

She freezes then, he stand there counting until five, before he spoke. It was something significant for him towards Sakura.

"Sakura... Thank you."

He said, voice so soft, so sincere, so genuine. And by the rigidity of her posture, a hard suck of breath, he knew she remembered that day she helped him, and know that he has thanked her for everything, up to this second; her offer, her help, her thoughtfulness towards him, everything. He counted again, until three this time, before he raised his hand, pull out his fingers and hit the spot on her neck where it would cause unconsciousness.

When he grew older, and they got married, had a daughter together, he say thank you most times. It meant more than just a sign of gratitude and gratefulness to them; he said it, Sakura knew it, and Sarada understands.

They are a complicated family; very, very complicated indeed–whose else daughter thought of someone else's as her mother–but they share a significant bond that are trully special. Thank you is two words that signify their love to each other, not just a mere appreciation.

A/N: I actually wrote a SasuSaku fanfic titled Thank You awhile back and you can found it in ff.net. It might suit today's prompt, but read on your own risk because it's a first draft and no editing has been made.

#ssm21 #ssm21d28 #sakuraharuno #sasukeuchiha #sasusaku #fanfic #prompt #drabble #kishillaa #kishillaawriting

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realllllfangirllllll · 3 years

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Beyond Lovers || Chp. 31

{More Than Friends Sequel}

Chairman!Jaehyun AU x CEO!Reader AU

Summary: You find yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with the former CEO after overcoming your fear of love. Although there were rough patches, both of you are now stronger than ever. However, you realize that maintaining a relationship and a company at the same time can be very difficult, especially if someone is out to destroy the both of you.

(Context: This scene takes place in the time frame of the last three chapters of MTF)

Masterlist

{Previous / Next }

4 months ago...

“Come meet me in Paris. I’ll send you the address.”

Jaehyun’s mind spun like lab rats on a hamster wheel as he contemplated the idea of meeting face to face with Xiaojun. He had set his mind on getting y/n back and he couldn’t act scared now. He needed her in his life and this was his only chance.

~~~

The bright sun was hanging low in the clear sky as Jaehyun let out a yawn. Although jet-lagged and stressed, the thought of being on the same grounds as y/n made him feel a bit better. After all, it seemed like he hasn’t seen her for years. He chuckled to himself upon the realization of how much y/n’s presence affected him.

He stepped into the luxurious hotel lobby and made his way to the glass elevators before he quickly pressed the button to floor six. When the room door opened, he found himself sitting on the lonely chair placed across from the lush couch with his heart beating nervously. Never had he been more nervous for a meeting, in fact, he usually wasn’t the type of person to get nervous at all. He guessed that y/n and Xiaojun were definitely of blood relation as they were the only two people to ever make him feel even slightly nervous.

His hands were clasped politely in front of his lap as he tried his best to sit as straight as possible. On the other hand, Xiaojun sat comfortably yet arrogantly on the couch with his legs crossed. His stern, sharp gaze examined Jaehyun from his neatly gelled hair, his casual yet sleek navy dress shirt, to his expensive leather shoes. Jaehyun didn’t move an inch and allowed Xiaojun to take in whatever he wanted to see. He dressed casually but neat with the intent of giving off a good, first in-person impression. He didn’t want Xiaojun to think of him as an egotistic rich boy but a hardworking and polite man that is sincere to y/n.

Xiaojun suddenly let out a chilling laugh that did nothing to clear the tension in the room. “You don’t have to act so stiff, treat me comfortably.”

Jaehyun nervously chuckled as Xiaojun broke out an eerie smile and offered, “You must be exhausted from that flight. Want something to drink?”

Jaehyun looked at him and saw that his eyes held a stonecold stare that shouted ‘refuse if you dare.’ He quickly responded with a yes and Xiaojun’s eerie smile returned. As if he prepared for this scenario, his hands grabbed the bottle of liquor on the marble coffee table and filled the two empty glasses by its side. He set the bottle aside and asked as he quirked his eyebrow, “You do drink whiskey, do you?”

Jaehyun responded with a quick, “yes sir,” and Xiaojun chuckled, “No need to be so formal with me. You are about the same age as me after all.”

Jaehyun almost choked on his drink at his words and stuttered, “Y-yes if that’s what you want.” Hesitantly, he continued, “By the way...How do you know my age?”

Xiaojun chugged his drink and rather loudly before he bluntly told him that he had searched him up online, read articles about him, and even had some intel from someone on the inside. Jaehyun’s eyes widened at his last statement. He wasn’t new to this sort of investigation as he had done so himself around people he found suspicious, especially with Jaemin. But he was surprised, yet amused, that Xiaojun was that kind of person as well.

He cleared his glass of whiskey and set it down on the table. “You seem to be a very reliable person.”

Xiaojun gave him a questioning stare as he waited for him to elaborate on his words. Jaehyun chuckled, suddenly feeling more comfortable around the man in front of him and slightly loosened his stiff body. “It’s only right to keep an eye out on suspicious people. I would.”

At his elaboration, Xiaojun’s expression seemed to change into one with slightly more approval. His cold stare shifted to a warmer gaze as he uncrossed his legs and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. His eyes first looked down at his interlocked fingers and then seriously up at Jaehyun. “What is your endgame with my baby sister?”

Jaehyun sat up straighter again and responded with slight confusion in his tone, “Endgame? I don’t have one. My love for your sister isn’t a game.”

Xiaojun smirked and asked, “Then what is it?”

Jaehyun never broke eye contact with the man in front of him and said sincerely, “To me, loving y/n is like living in a warm home. I only want to make her feel happy and comfortable like how she makes me feel. I want her to feel what being loved means.”

He hoped that wasn’t too blunt and stopped himself before he could say anything more, but Xiaojun chuckled. This time, he didn’t have an eerie smile but a genuine one. He poured the both of them more whiskey and said in a gentler yet firm tone, “You’re the first, you know.”

“The first what?” Jaehyun said a little softer, scared that that statement might hold a negative connotation.

Xiaojun peered down at his glass of whiskey, slightly moving the cup in a circular motion before setting it down without taking a sip. “Guess I don’t need this whiskey anymore.”

He looked up and saw Jaehyun’s puzzled look. “You are much more innocent than I thought,” he laughed. He sat straighter, breaking from his previous position and told Jaehyun nonchalantly, “You are actually the first to tell me something worth my time. You see...most guys that previously held y/n’s interest will walk into my door and say some bullshit. I’ve heard countless fuckers say they date my sister because she will make a great couple with them, she will light up their day, or some equivalent shit.” His eyes hardened and stared straight into Jaehyun’s. “I don’t want to hear that. Ever.” Jaehyun unconsciously gulped and Xiaojun chuckled, “But you on the other hand. You are different. While others think about themselves, you think about y/n.”

Jaehyun felt relieved but not a second later, Xiaojun gave him the same cold stare again. “But y/n means the world to me. She’s my only family and the only person I will sell my soul to protect. You got that?” Jaehyun quickly nodded in response and Xiaojun’s tone softened again. “I don’t know how far you are in this relationship, but you must know that y/n didn’t have parents growing up as they abandoned us quite harshly.” He glanced at Jaehyun’s expression and figured he knew what he was referring to. “So you do know. Well then your relationship must have been going on for quite a while…”

“Not really,” Jaehyun replied a bit hesitant.

Xiaojun quirked his eyebrow, “How long then?”

“Technically...only a few months,” Jaehyun rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of whether he should give him all the details of their complicated relationship, “But we’ve kind of been circling around the first month…”

“Circling around?” Jaehyun gulped, afraid this would give him some negative points on his approval but Xiaojun stared intently at him and suddenly burst out laughing. He knew that his younger sister was never the one to wait for initiation. She wasn’t careful with things she didn’t care for. All her previous relationships started fairly quickly. But when y/n really liked something, she would wait, go through a ton of inner debation, and finally come up with a decision. Xiaojun knew that because she does the same with photography. She never rushes the process and would take her time finding the right angle, the right natural lighting, and the right model. She would often tell Xiaojun, “Precious moments are to be dealt with carefully because they are especially fragile.”

Now that Jaehyun confessed the upbringing of their relationship, albeit vague, he realized just how much y/n valued this man that sat nervously in front of him. He muttered to himself both out of amusement and astonishment, “Wow y/n...So he’s the one huh?”

He stopped laughing and stared seriously at Jaehyun again, “Listen up lover boy. The reason I told you to come here was to either show you that you are not worthy of my precious sister or to beat you to a pulp if you didn’t listen like some arrogant douches I’ve encountered in her past relationships.” Unknowingly, Jaehyun chuckled at his last statement and Xiaojun’s ears perked, “Did you just laugh?”

Jaehyun’s eyes widened upon the realization of what he just did and immediately corrected himself, “No no, I didn’t mean it in that way.” He scratched the back of his neck again and continued, “I actually just,” he paused and let out a light chuckle, “I just relate to that as well.”

Xiaojun was caught off guard as he blinked in disbelief at the man’s reaction, “You what?”

A sense of respect coated Jaehyun’s tone as he clarified, “Some people call it reckless, some people call it crazy. But in the line of business I work in, those hypocritical people only fear those with the power of the fist and intimidation.” He let out a bitter chuckle and told Xiaojun, “With y/n around, especially, I just feel the need to make sure she doesn’t get hurt by ignorant people.”

Xiaojun smirked, “You’re not half as bad as I thought Jaehyun.” He smiled and continued, “Anyways, y/n may be my baby sister but ever since we were little all she has done was make sure I was happy. She took care of me more than I did with her. She supported and helped me with my Youtube career and tagged along without any complaints. And because of that, she never really had a stable place to call her home. I’m glad she was able to open up to you. She usually never tells someone about her parents until at least a year into the relationship. It shows she really is comfortable around you. And judging from the way you react to my words and actions, it seems I don’t need to play the role of a protector for her anymore. You seem to suit the role.”

Before Jaehyun could respond Xiaojun immediately cut him off, “But one more thing. As a Youtuber, I know the public forum can be harsh and the spotlight will never be easy. For that, I know the situation at the Starship Charity Ball was not entirely your fault,” His cold stare came back as he stared seriously at Jaehyun, “But don’t you ever dare forget this. When you walk out this door and go to y/n, you will do everything in your power to help and protect her. It might not be entirely your fault, but it was because of you that y/n is now in the spotlight.”

Jaehyun replied in agreement almost immediately and Xiaojun continued, “Take the consequences and make the best of it.” He narrowed his eyes and made sure Jaehyun understood his commands. “But don’t you ever let y/n get hurt by it.” He continued and emphasized his last point in a much deeper and darker tone, “You hurt my only family and I will show you no mercy. However hurt y/n becomes, I will give that back to you threefold, understood?”

“Of course! I will always be by her to protect her. No matter who or what gets in the way,” Jaehyun replied quickly and genuinely.

Xiaojun shut his eyes for a moment and nodded, content with his response and overall behavior.

“Effiel Tower,” he opened his eyes again and looked at Jaehyun with a soft and somewhat hopeful gaze, “She should be somewhere around the Effiel Tower right now.”

Jaehyun immediately popped up from his seat, ready to meet his love again. Before he twisted the doorknob of the hotel room, he turned around and told Xiaojun with the utmost respect, “I will treat her like my own family, I promise.”

Xiaojun chuckled and leaned against the soft pillows on the couch, “You better lover boy, my fists are ready to fight any time of the day.”

———

• Dropping a post early since I’ll be off to celebrate my bday!! •

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erismerald · 4 years

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𝓐𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵 (Ryo Asuka x plus size reader) 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 1

HeyHey my little angel, I’ve been a little off from Tumblr wasn’t I? Well I’ve been thinking about new fanfics and I’ve been enjoying the summer holidays, I hope everything is all right with you! From now on I’ll start writing again, and I’ll bring you news, in a few days I’ll open the requests again, so be aware!!

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦

𝓯𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓸𝓶: Devilman crybaby

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: none ( for now 🌚)

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The sky seems more starry tonight, it seems like a dream you don’t want to wake up to, you miss the old days when you were with the people you loved the most, but that was a long time ago, until one of us left and you had to say goodbye to the only boy you really loved.

It has been a few years since you last saw Akira, he is older than you 2years so he has always treated you like a younger sister, Ryo was the same age as Akira and he treat you…well he treat you like a friend.

The last time you saw Akira and you were 8 and he was 10 years old, of course they still exchanged messages and letters, but since your parents moved to Europe when you were 8 it was always a bit more complicated. After so many years you still felt the pain of having to see Akira crying after the news of you leaving, you knew the pain of losing someone you care about because some months before your best friend had left too.

The three of you were inseparable, you and Akira were more emotional and more connected to each other, but your heart had chosen Ryo to be the person you would fall in love with.. why? You admired him and you always felt safe around him, besides he taught you many things and you were always amazed how a boy with only 10 years old could be so intelligent.

You and Ryo had a bit of a strange relationship, you were different ages and had different mentalities but that didn’t stop you from falling in love with him. The day he left you and Akira cried a lot and fell asleep crying, it was painful to see someone you loved go away, you spent weeks a little depressed, but after some time you already felt better with Akira’s help.

Since then, since you knew nothing about Ryo, you always tried to ask Akira through the letters you wrote but you always received the same answer “I don’t know anything about him either… I miss him too”. Where would he be? Would he still remember you? Nobody but you knew the feelings you had for him, neither your parents nor Akira and you preferred to keep it that way, it was easier to try to forget him… at least that was the idea you had in the first years but no matter how hard you tried it was almost impossible to forget his crystalline eyes… so you decided to hide these feelings only for yourself, of course you tried to have some kind of loving relationship with other boys but they didn’t last more than a week.

Today was the day you came back to Akira’s side, he was living with some friends from his parents and only they knew that you would come back, they offered if you stay with them and that was great news. You missed him, he was your brother from other parents, the last time they spoke was a few weeks ago and since then you try to hide the surprise of moving in with him.

It was a few hours before you got to the Makimura’s place and you couldn’t stop thinking about how Akira would be now.

You felt so comfortable that you ended up falling asleep in the cab on the way home, it had been a long trip and you were really tired. The hours seemed like minutes and without realizing it you had already arrived at the Makimura’s house.

“Thank you sir” you said when you took the bags out of the trunk and put them down, you thanked him and said goodbye.

A few seconds after you got out of the car you walked to the front door, you noticed that they had a motorcycle at the gate, whose would it be?You rang the bell and waited for someone to open it, you kept looking to the side waiting until they opened the door.

“Y/n?? Oh hi my name is Miki Makimura, come in,” she said giving you a space to come in.

“O-okay, and nice to meet you miss miki” you came in and looked down.

“Miss Miki? you don’t have to call me that, we are friends now, please call me miki” She said with a huge smile on her face, she was really nice, I remember Akira talking about her in one of the letters.

“S-sure” you looked up and saw a smile from her dirrored to you, you felt a warmth in your heart, it was so good to be back.

“Well akira hasn’t arrived yet, he’s at a friend’s house and he won’t be back until later and my parents went on a business trip so it’s just the two of us and my younger brother” she bent down and grabbed my bag “you’re staying in my room for now, I hope you don’t mind”.

“Of course not, I’m the one who has to apologize for being in the way” you smiled lightly following to your room.

“And here we are, it’s a small room but it’s good for both of us” Miki smiled and put my bag on the floor near the bed.

“I loved it, it’s like my room in France, I lived there for two years”you said sitting on the bed, feeling miki sitting next to you “you traveled a lot, huh?” Miki asked if lying in bed.

“Yes…my parents’ job took us everywhere, the place I was the longest was here, where I met Akira and …. Well I spent 8 years here and then my parents took me to Europe, and we didn’t spend more than a year in a place, except in France, where I was two years” you explained lying next to her “honestly it’s good to come home, this feeling of nostalgia is good”.

“I’m happy for you, and I’m very happy to be with you personally, I’ve heard a lot of stories from you.” Miki said leaning on her elbow and looking at you, “Akira won’t shut up, he only talks about you, I think he’ll love it when he finds out that you’re here.”you look at Miki with a confused look

"Have you heard a lot about me? I thought akira didn’t speak so honestly” you smiled and stared at the ceiling, you’re so excited to be able to hug him again.

“So Y/n how old are you? I remember Akira saying that you are younger than us” Miki turned to you-

“Oh I’m 16, I’m two years younger, Akira always treated me like a younger sister… to speak truthfully I miss him” you spoke turning you in his direction to face her.

“Oh that’s really interesting and sweet, I hope you don’t mind me treating you like a little sister” she said laughing.

“Of course not! I always wanted an older sister! And once again Miki thanks for welcoming me here” you said and smiled at her and ended up laughing.

You two spent some time talking and did not realize the time, when you looked at the window it was already dark outside, you suddenly heard a noise on the floor below:

“Miki I’m home!!” this voice… was Akira? since when does he have a hoarse voice? “I’m coming down!!” miki answered looked at me

“Well, your best friend has arrived, shall we?“ she said and pulled you by the arm.

We went down and when I saw him he didn’t look the same defenseless and crying boy from 8 years ago, he was now tall, muscular, his hair was uneven, he was much more attractive

"Miki I saw some bags down here, your parents hadn’t left in the morning?” Akira said turning around and stopping the moment he saw you:

"Y/N?!?! ITS REALLY YOU!” he ran towards me and hugged you “I DON’T BELIEVE THAT YOU ARE HERE” he said by grabbing your body.

“H-hi, I missed you and I decided to come back, I’m sorry I left” you said embracing him “ Akira, you’re suffocating me” you said laughing a little bit. “oh sorry, it’s just that I was so happy to see you again, what are you doing here?” he asked away a little but not leaving the hug

“I came to live with you, I got tired of traveling with my parents, and Miki’s parents offered to take me in” you said with a smile and looking at him “and since when did you get so tall? you were my size when we were kids” you laughed and hugged him again.

“I think we can say puberty was generous to me, unlike you, you are still lower than I remember” he laughed and separated from your embrace and sat down on the sofa.

“Ah Ah, you became a comedian? I’ve grown up a lot, and let me sit there” you said, walking on the sofa to sit next to him.

“First of all I’m going to the supermarket and then I’m going to get the …., have some fun” Miki said laughing.

“Okay” both replied in harmony seeing Miki leave home.

“So tell me all the news, how did you get like this?” “It’s a long story but I think you have time to talk now” Akira said seriously The conversation flowed and Akira told everything that was going on including the part of Ryo… that he had returned home, why didn’t he contact you? did he still remember you? There were too many questions in your head, Akira realized the confusion of feelings and put a hand on your shoulder.

“Akira…do you think Ryo still remembers me?” you asked facing your hands.

“I think so, I was surprised to see him myself, but I’m sure so” he smiled and you tried to smile back but you were confused and hurt, you knew you were such an important person in his life, but did he ever have an interest? Some time passed and you both fell asleep on the sofa, you woke up with a weight on your belly, still a little sleepy, you looked at the place to see what Akira’s arm was around you ‘I have to find a way out, I have to help Miki make dinner’ you thought and tried to drag Akira’s arm to the side.

After a few minutes of many attempts you finally succeeded,you got up from the sofa and walked to the kitchen and glanced Miki in the cutting some ingredients. “Do you need help?” you asked with an embarrassed smile

“I’m sorry I fell asleep, because of the trip I’m very tired it was almost impossible for me to stay awake” you explained while looking at her with an embarrassed look.

“Don’t worry Y/n, I understand, and yes we can cook together it’s always more fun to cook with someone” she smiled and grabbed both your hands. You smiled and followed her directions.

Finally you felt at home!

𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒽 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇

You were living with the Makimura and Akira for a month now, it was really a dream and a nightmare to live with them, you, Akira and Miki always went to school and stayed until late to see their athletics training, it was an intressful sport but not for you, Even though you were younger than them, Akira always made it a point to left you in your classroom, It was a bit uncomfortable, listening to the girls’ comments addressed to you, because you were always with Akira but you didn’t really want to know that for anything.

You were supposed to go to the athletics training but as you had a math test that week, so you decided to stay and study in the library, and without realizing the hours went by and when you looked at the clock it was already 6pm. Is it already 6 pm? I’ll be home late and it’s raining a lot and I don’t have an umbrella’ you thought about how fucked up you were, you packed your books in your backpack and almost ran out. You could feel your heart beating, when you were leaving the building you felt a hand on your shoulder and you automatically got scared and put yourself in an attack position.

“WOW take it easy, fighter, we don’t want you to rip my arm off” Akira said laughing “Where have you been?”

“Oh I had an exam this week and spent the afternoon in the library, sorry I should have warned you” you said laughing, you looked more closely at him and saw two motorcycle helmets in his hand “are you going somewhere with someone?” you asked a little curious.

"Yes with you” he said quietly walking “I’m going to take you somewhere, so I stayed here waiting for you to leave. Come on".

“Wait what? Do you know what time it is Fudo? We don’t have much time to go out there and besides it’s raining” you said refusing to move.

“Don’t worry, I already told Miki and you’ll like where we’re going, so come on” he paused waiting for your reaction but you didn’t move

“Is that how you want it? It’s ok” he went to you and picked you up like a potato bag.

“AKIRA FUDO! it’s raining, i’m going to be sick on Idiot” you screamed as you felt the rain wetting all your uniform, he put you on the bike and gave you the helmet.

“If I die on top of this I will haunt you for the rest of your life” you said a little in panic.

“ahahaha don’t worry, it’s okay!” he laughed and took off. He was going really fast it was almost impossible not to have a accent but for your happiness nothing happened, you were watching everyone around and you saw that they were going towards a huge building.

He parked the bike and helped you down.

“Oh how thoughtful Fudo I had never seen a building before, now we can go home” you asked looking at it as it walked towards the entrance of the building.

“Ah it’s really boring sometimes, don’t spoil the surprise, it took me days to get you here” he said opening the elevator shaft.

“Where are we anyway?” you asked curiously.

“At Ryo’s house, he owns the building and its surrounding area, I told him what I was bringing with me today, honestly I think he already knows it’s you” RYO? WAIT YOU IN THIS MOMENT ARE GOING TO RYO’S HOUSE? you feel dizzy, and nervous, excited but scared, what will you tell him when you see him? Akira turned to you and realized again the confusion of feelings.

“You don’t have to worry, only if you yourself and let the conversation flow, so much for what I know he also missed you” those words hypnotized your mind. You heard the sound of the elevator a stops, you took a deep breath and you left the elevator… it was all white, wide and white, it was as if you were entering the sky.

“Good afternoon jenny! Do you still remember Y/n? she was 8 years old when you saw her” Akira said

“Of course, how are you?” Jenny asked, you couldn’t fool her, she was a bit scary.

“I’m fine, thank you” you said with a warm smile on your face.

“Jenny where is Ryo” Akira asked you sitting on the sofa and pulling you to do the same, you looked around…

“I’m here, sorry for taking so long, as it was raining I asked jenny to prepare the service bathroom so you could take a bath”

When you finally looked back at him, all dressed in white, he had grown a lot too and was more attractive, you felt your Heart stopping a bit when his gaze crossed yours, you look quickly forward feeling your face burning. Akira got up quickly and went to hug Ryo, confused looked back to see you still sitting on the sofa looking forward intensely.

Ryo approached the sofa and squatted beside you.

“After 8 years, this is how you will greet me?” he looked intensely at you, you turned your face slowly and still felt your heart beating super fast.

“H-hi Ryo, it’s good to finally see you again” you said shaking and smiling a little nervous

“Its really good to see you too Y/n” his answer was short but you couldn’t resist much more, without thinking you jumped off the sofa and hugged him hard, and to your surprise you felt him hugging you too, it was so comforting to be in his arms, his smell had changed now his smell was characterized by the smell of weapons, cigarettes and alcohol.

𝑅𝓎𝑜 𝒫𝑜𝓋

I looked away from the computer and observed the view from the window, it was raining a lot, I looked at the phone next to me and noticed that I had two messages from Akira.

Akira: Sorry I’m late, I just found her now

Akira: We are there in 10 minutes

I sighed and stood up slowly rubbing the back of my head.

“Jenny?” I called looking through the window glass.

“Yes?” jenny asked by my side. “Can you set up the service bathroom for when they arrive? and put the bag of clothes I bought there,” I said, walking away and walking up the stairs to the top floor. Why did he go to so much trouble to bring her here? She will be a distraction in our objective and I can’t let that happen. In a few minutes I heard voices downstairs, I left my room and approached the stairs, I could see her from there, she hadn’t changed much yet she was still small and her body was not the ideal that society asked but still she was beautiful, I felt the chest heavy but I could not let this affect me in any way.I went down the stairs and interrupted the conversation:

“I’m here, sorry for taking so long, as it was raining I asked jenny to prepare the service bathroom so you could take a bath” I said approaching them, I watched Akira get up from the sofa to greet me but curiously she didn’t get up, she looked back and our gaze crossed if, her face was red and could see that her breathing was faster than normal. hugged akira and without thinking I approached the sofa squatting next to her waiting for a reaction.

“After 8 years, this is how you will greet me?” I said staring at her, slowly she turned her head to face me, her cheeks were red and her gaze was shy.

“H-hi Ryo, it’s good to finally see you again” her voice was shaking, she was nervous to see me? but why? without hesitating I answered calmly

“Its really good to see you too Y/n” I quickly saw the relief in her gaze, and in a few seconds her body was clinging to mine, automatically my body moved and corresponded to her embrace for a moment I let my body relax next to hers, her smell was mesmerizing, it was delicate but at the same time strong, my body almost melted close to hers.

𝒴𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒫𝑜𝓋

You felt his body relaxing in yours for a moment it seemed like nothing else existed around you, but in a few seconds we were back to realidader. ~

“The bathroom is ready to use,” Jenny said, forcing Ryo’s body to separate from yours, for a moment you felt empty.

“Y/n if you want you can go first, I bought some clothes for you, they were there in a bag, I hope you like it” Ryo said when he got up, your gaze looked at him, you got up and followed him, you looked back and saw Akira sitting on the sofa moving his phone. “This is it, you can take your time, I asked jenny to buy some more delicate products for you, since from now on you will begin to participate in the missions with us…but we will talk about it later” Ryo said opening the bathroom door giving you space to pass, when you entered he closed the door.

You couldn’t believe you were in the bathroom at Ryo’s house right now…it’s been eight years since you last saw him, both of you had changed…it was a lot of information to keep track of at that moment.

You took off your wet clothes and went into the shower, the water was warm and on the wall there were lots of buttons, he really was too rich to have a bathroom like that. You got out of the shower and rolled up in a towel, you walked up to the black and red bag and took off some clothes, when you saw the mark you got scared, they were very expensive marks, how come he bought this for you? you took a dark green hoddie and some jeans and looked at yourself in the mirror, nearby there was a basket full of perfumes and expensive creams, it was really frightening the amount of money he had spent on things for you, you chose a random perfume and got out of the bathroom.

You walked to the room again and saw Ryo sitting on the sofa stirring the computer, you approached and sat a little far from him.

“Thanks for the clothes and the perfumes, I promise I’ll return everything as soon as I wash,” you said looking down, yet you could feel his gaze drifting away from the computer screen to you.

“You don’t have to give it back, from now on I’ll offer you everything you need, so keep the clothes with you,” he said smiling lightly, but his gaze was still on you “I suppose Akira told you everything about what’s going on,” ryo said as he put the laptop on our side.

“Yes he told me…” you were silent for a while waiting for a reaction from him “Ryo? What did you mean when you said I would be part of the missions?” you looked at him with a confused look, you had too many questions in your head to be able to reason properly

“What I wanted to say is that it’s too late to let it go, and I know that Akira will feel safer if you’re around… but I promised him nothing will happen to you I’ll protect you myself” even though his words seemed cold, your heart reacted in a different way making you blush

“Oh… I understand and thank you… I don’t want to get in trouble with anyone especially the two of you” you said by looking away and looking at the ground, until it occurred to you that someone was missing “Where’s Akira?” you said by looking everywhere

“Ah he went to buy some things at the mall, you two were going to stay here for the night” Ryo said as he got up from the sofa and walked to a small closet taking out a vodka bottle, walked to the window and opening it looking through the glass while the rain fell in the pool water.

To be in his presence after so many years is increasibly hypnotizing, he seems mysterious, cold, inaccessible, you could feel your heart beating fast, you wanted to get close to him, but the shame of your feelings did not leave you.

“Y/n…” lost in your thoughts you were dragged back to reality with the voice of ryo calling you.

“Yes?” you stood up and walked to him, you waited for him to continue. “I heard that you’ve been traveling for these years, what made you come again to Japan?” he questioned without taking his eyes off the glass, you look at the landscape, gaining courage to answer him.

“I couldn’t forget the memories I made here, I couldn’t forget the friendships I had made, and no place in the world gave me the feeling of calm and security that you gave me here…I couldn’t forget Akira…I couldn’t forget you” without noticing you had revealed the nostalgia you felt for him, you immediately closed your eyes and cursed yourself mentally.

“To tell you the truth I knew where you were, all this time I had people who inform me about you and Akira, but I admit that seeing you in person was unexpectedly good” he says, walking away from the window and sitting back on the sofa putting his computer on his lap

“Why don’t you come sit here? I knew you were good at research and languages, you could help me translate a document” he said looking back at your waiting, you smiled and nodded and sat down next to him. ~

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✦ ✧ ✦ So what did you think of the first chapter of my new story? I hope you like it, soon I will bring the second part! Until then, take care🤍🤍

#devil man crybaby #devilman crybaby fanfic #devilman crybaby x reader #anime #devilman #akira fudo #akira fudo x reader #akira fudo fanfic #ryo askua #ryo asuka x reader #ryo asuka x plus size reader #ryo asuka fanfic #miki makimura #netflix #devilman crybaby #bnha fanfic #demon slayer #nswt fanfic #ryo asuka smut

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sparklingchan · 4 years

Text

Tipsy Turvy || Choi San(Ateez)

Pairing : Reader (fem.) x Choi San

Word count : 5k+

Warnings : Cuss words , alcohol , hangover , mentions of over drinking, not proof read.

Genre : Fluff , a tiny bit of angst , romance , friends to lovers au.

Description : You have a complicated relationship with San , and the alcohol in your system makes it worse ( or better).

Author's Note : So with all honesty , I have NO idea how people behave when drunk so I searched it up and wrote this 90% based on that ( and 10% on my friends’ advice). I hope at least one of y’all get the horrible pun in the title -_-

Please do reblog , like and comment if you like this. My DMs are also open so if you want to gimme a review , feel free.

Enjoy!

The coffee in the cup must have gone cold by now, because the moment you touch it’s surface ,you don't feel the same sting as you did a few minutes ago.

Not that it tasted good anyway. You're almost glad you didn't have to drink it but maybe, right now, you could use a sip or two to spare yourself a few seconds of peace.

"The coffee is wonderful, isn't it? It's my favorite one." The man in front of you - Mike - needs to seriously give you a break, or else there will be blood on the streets. Literally, "I'm glad you like it."

Does he not see the clearly disgusted look on your face ? Or was he so sure you'd like this drink just because he ordered it without even asking you?

"Yeah ,its fine." You sigh , touching your lips to the mouth of the cup and then putting it back down. You're not drinking that already tasteless and now cold coffee. No way.

"So ,y/n, since we're expected to give our parents an answer after this date, I'd like to know about your opinions first . And please be honest. I would hate to upset you." He says , scratching his chin .

Your eyes widen at the unexpected string of words. This is the first time since this stupid date began that he actually asked your opinion on anything.

"Well," you begin, your mind filling up with tons of words that you'd waited patiently to let out , "Marriage is a big decision. At least for me. And this is all too fast. I just hope we have enough time to know each other before our parents set the date."

He nods his head , “ I agree, I agree. Its important . Right."

You furrow your brows. His reaction seems very forced. Like he really didn't agree with you , but for the sake of it , he's agreeing.

"And what kind of qualities do you look for in a man,y/n?" You want to roll your eyes at the question but you pull your lips up in a smile, not quiet touching your eyes but enough to convince him. You wonder why he was trying so hard to save a date that had been going downhill from the moment he sat down in front of you. You guys clearly didn't like each other, and the spark was missing.

A spark you'd only ever felt with one person.

"Its difficult to describe ideal types but yeah,I'd like someone who's compatible with me and loving and well.. obviously respectful." You say. Mike chuckles at your answer , as if amused by it, "I was expecting you to say you wanted someone who's rich and handsome like...me , honestly. But it's alright." You wonder if he actually hears himself because he really sounded like a self absorbed piece of shit right now. And you'd really do anything to escape from this date.

"Well , I guess not. " you reply with a chuckle. In all honesty, you yourself don't know what your ideal type is. It's not about the conditions or requirements that a person fulfills. It's not a job , it's a connection. You can't confine people to certain criterias. It defies the whole purpose of that connection. And even if you did have qualities you looked for in a man , everything would always end up pointing at only one damn person. You push his images away even before they can surface into your mind.

"So anyway, as I was saying before the coffee arrived , my dad bought this really pretty yacht for me last month and it's super amazing to - " and you shut him out completely while he continues blabbering and you quietly sip the disgusting coffee in front of you.

You really want to groan now. Like on his face. Putting emphasis on how draining and boring this whole conversation is for you.

But all you do is smile and nod.

You were going to reject him the moment your parents set you up on a date with a ' nice and charming bachelor '. What side of Mike did they find even remotely nice or charming? You would never know. But one thing is sure now ,you will at least not have to deal with your parents pestering you for marriage after you reject Mike.

The weather is extremely humid today , despite it having rained in the morning so without a doubt , you'd spent your day indoors , reading a book and drinking unhealthy amount of fruit punch.

"Are they still upset ? " your parents should have seen it coming ,really. The rejection was as inevitable as the rising of the sun every morning or the setting of the sun in the evening. Yet , your parents are pretty disappointed at the decision even after three days since that stupid date. You , on the other hand are happy to have gotten rid of Mike - even if it meant your parents being angry.

Your younger brother , Jongho ,sighs into the phone, " What do you think? They really thought you'd finally marry now."

You don't really blame them though. Not at all. That's what they were always taught ,weren't they? Graduate high school, finish college ,get a good job and get married. The full circle.That is all they've every known yet you find yourself upset at the fact that they didn't consider your unwillingness to this marriage ( or any other marriage) at all. You're just barely starting to work ,you cannot throw away all of that to be a good wife and daughter in law. Sure Mike is the son of some rich man who does business with your father, but economical relationships cannot be a basis for a marriage.

"Well, I can't help it . I'm not marrying that asshole at any cost. " you huff , " He is so creepy and weird. Let mom and dad stay pressed. I don't care."

"Is it just because you didn't find Mike interesting or something else?" Jongho asks.

"I guess? " you reply, scratching the back of your head.

"You know , y/n, I understand that you don't want to get married and whatever but we both know there's a solid reason behind it and I am sick of you denying it all the time." Jongho is too honest for your liking. Too brutal , no sugarcoated words. Just the truth.

And the truth stings.

"Shut up." You grumble, fiddling with the book in your hands , legs dangling from the edge of your bed, " I told you not to mention it ever again?"

"Y/n, you love him. Okay? You have loved him for seven years now . It is high time you shoot your shot or else you'll end up with some rich asshole who doesn't give two shits about you!"

He's right,of course he is. His words are not really an opinion or a vague prediction of the future. Those are facts. But hearing him say all that out loud makes your blood turn cold in your body. Fear creeping through every inch of your skin , making it hard to think clearly.

"I don't think it matters if I love him or not. I gave up on him. We haven't spoken much ever since college ended. " you say.

" You didn't give up. You just ran away instead of acknowledging it. There's a difference." Jongho replies , " And for your kind information it's only been six months since college got over. You need to stop talking like it was twenty years ago or something. "

You chuckle at his last phrase, grateful that he's trying to uplift the weirdly tense mood. "I don't think I can do it , Jongho. I want to. I really do but I don't think he likes me back." You admit.

"You're delusional if you think he doesn't like you back, y/n. All the late night car drives, movie dates , eating unhealthy food late into the nights - San loves you too. Obviously he does."

You sigh ,running your fingers over the rough page of the book in your lap. 'Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.' The words read out. The tightening of your chest increases.

"He was just being nice." You mutter.

Jongho sighs loudly from the other side , "Okay , believe what you want . I can't handle both you and mom-dad together, okay? Spare me your bullshit. Bye."

Wow, talk about being a rude, disrespectful child !

You are usually not the one to point fingers or put blame on other people , but you really despised your best friend right now. And you have every right to do so. Your best friend is the main reason why your parents are so desperately trying to get you married and see you settle down and have kids and whatever. Jisoo is the epitome of every good quality all parents desire in a daughter. She's perfect. Even more than that sometimes.

"How's your husband?" Your question doesn't sound very genuine - the words slipping out of your tongue like they were being forced out. But Jisoo seems to let it go.

"He's good , really good. " She replies ,taking a sip from the only can of cola you had left in your fridge. She passes it over to you.

"How lucky ." You mutter , taking a sip of the same drink.

"I know what you're thinking ,y/n. I know your ass is upset about everything that happened with Mike but things take time. Okay? I married early because I wanted to." she says, reading right through you like you were a book she'd read millions of times ,"If you don't want to marry , don't. Stop blaming yourself for not finding good guys." " I wonder if I'll ever find anyone even remotely nice, Jisoo. The only few guys I've been set up on dates with are not my type and well , Mike ... I don't know. We're just not compatible." You complain , " And besides I'm so terrified of marrying a guy I barely know."

Jisoo sighs , "Then marry a guy you've known for a long time."

"Who are you talking about?" You frown. You know exactly who she is talking about but you want to hear her say it. Say his name which you dare not even repeat to yourself when alone.

"Choi San ,of course. The love of your life ,your sun and stars , your sweetheart. " she says , her dreamy eyes widening to exaggerate her point.

You slap her arm hard , almost a little too hard. But you're convinced that she deserves it. "Ow !" She yells ,rubbing the sore area on her arm.

"That name is forbidden in my vicinity." You say.

Okay ,maybe now you are the one who deserves a slap. On the cheek. You couldn't believe that his name still fills your stomach with butterflies and causes your heart to beat so fast that you feel dizzy even though you claim that you're over him.

"No, it's not, y/n. Come on ,dude. You're still not over him. You will never be unless you confess and face the supposed rejection on your own. Only then you'll find it in yourself to seek other guys , unless that's not what you want." She jabs her finger on your shoulder softly , "That, or you can marry San himself. It's very simple ,really."

Now that she put it that way ,it sounds even more complicated and it sends your mind to a voyage into the sea of memories that you rarely even acknowledged anymore( or at least ,you tried to).

San's pretty eyes and alluring smile , the soft hold of his hand on your arm as you run to the movie halls just five minutes before it closes , the warmth of his hugs that you so dearly loved , his silky black hair that you've wanted to touch on so many occasions and the day you were sure he had leaned in to kiss you but your annoying brother decided to call just at that exact moment. You almost wish you could go back to your university graduation day , and wait a little longer for him after the event got over and tell him that he meant the world to you. More than he could ever imagine. You really wish you had waited that day.

"Jongho has this stupid theory that he likes me too. He's making me even more confused. " you say.

"At least Jongho has more brain cells than you. That kid deserves an award or something." Jisoo replies , chuckling.

"He's not a kid. He's just a year younger than me and you." You deadpan. Great, your best friend and brother are now on the same team.

She rolls her eyes , "Yeah , you are a kid too. Only a kid acts so naive and stupid when everything they've ever wanted is right there in front of them. Hell, even a kid would realise that San loves you !"

Jisoo talks a lot , but her words are never empty or vague. She says whatever she wants to and has to. And she is always able to make a point. But you're a dumb bitch who likes to pretend she's still not in love with her childhood sweetheart and is looking for love somewhere else.

"Anyway, can we go for a drink?"

"Glad you finally asked." Jisoo grabs your arm and drags you out of the house.

Your favorite bar in the entire world has to be the one you've been going to since you were in high school. From your first time drinking to vomiting in its toilet after having way too many vodka shots , from dancing with your friends to crying alone in a corner , that place has seen it all.

Coincidentally( not really), its Jisoo's favorite bar too.

"Okay, y/n. I think you should stop now. That's enough."

Coincidentally also ,you happen to not have a good alcohol tolerance yet an endearing desire to drown your sorrows in those glasses.

"No, I'm not even properly drunk." You whine ,your words only barely making sense to Jisoo. She grabs the glass away from you.

"Come on , let's take you home. " she tries to pull you from your seat , "Can't believe I thought it was a good idea to drink on a weekday."

"No, no, Jisoo. " you resist , pushing her away. " I want to..stay. here. I like it here. It's so warm and cozy . If I go home, I'll cry. I hate home. It's so ugly. Ew. This place is so pretty ."

Your vision is so blurry that your brain can't even form clear images anymore. You see Jisoo's form after squinting hard enough.

"You won't cry. I'll take care of you, y/n. Come on." Jisoo is so insistent you have to hold yourself back from punching her. Her lucky ass would never understand how much in pain your heart is in. And how much the alcohol helps in forgetting all that even just for a few minutes.

"You go home. I'll stay. I'll stay here for as long as I can. Away from all you blood suckers." You slur. And then giggle for no apparent reason.

Jisoo heaves a sigh ,sitting beside you. "Are you going to come with me or do I have to call San to pick you up?"

That was a threat. Jisoo always uses the same one and somehow, it always seems to work. Not today though.

"Hah! Joke's on you ! He doesn't care about me." You point at her face , giggling again.

San? Taking care of you? Funniest joke of the year.

"He does ,y/n. You know he does. What are you being like this?" She asks , rubbing your hand comfortingly. "I see the way he looks at you."

"He probably has a girlfriend already. He always posts romantic shit on Instagram. " you say ,resting your chin on your arm.

"He doesn't have one. I know he doesn't. He probably posts all that for you." She says.

You want to believe her but your brain feels fuzzy and foggy now. Like the sky on winter mornings.

"I want to see San, Jisoo. I miss him. I miss him so much. " you keep muttering under your breath , "Take me to him. I miss him."

Jisoo stares at you - wide eyed and slightly annoyed. Your low alcohol tolerance will get you into serious trouble one day.

"We can see him tomorrow. Let's go home now. Now." She pulls your arm again.

You push her off , "I said I want to see San ! Right now! Take me to him!"

You have never yelled at anyone while in a drunken state before so the sudden increased volume of your voice scares Jisoo. She let's go of your arm.

"Okay, will you come home after meeting San?" Jisoo asks ,taking her phone out to call a cab.

"Yes. No. Depends. I never want to be away from him." You say. "Take me to him , please. I haven't seen him in months. Years. I don't remember how long. Do you think he'll recognize me?"

Shaking her head , Jisoo makes a mental note to never take you out for drinking again.

San lives a few minutes away from your own apartment, but with traffic sometimes it takes almost an hour to reach his apartment.

Today must have been your lucky day because the traffic was almost negligible. Although you don't remember the journey to his house , you do remember his familiar voice greeting you and Jisoo like he had almost expected you both to arrive at his door this late at night.

"She was throwing a tantrum that she wanted to see you. So I brought her here. I hope it's not a problem. " Jisoo says in her sweet voice that she uses on everyone but you and her husband. You scowl.

"Hey, I wasn't throwing a tantrum! " You hit her arm again , but she puts on the fakest smile when San looks at the both of you with a confused face.

"And she's not very sober right now." Jisoo admits ,sighing. San presses his lips in line , observing you as play with the hem of your tshirt and your eyes are focused on his face. You never had so much confidence in a sober state. He knows this because he's seen you like this a million times before and hopefully, if all goes well tonight , he might see this state in the future too.

His stomach does a back flip when you stick out your bottom lip in a cute little pout.

"It's okay. She can stay the night here. I believe you have something important to tell me ,y /n?" San asks, titling his head.

You nod , beaming with happiness. Your eyes never leave his perfect face and his beautiful black hair which he decided to tie in a small ponytail tonight and his toned arms and his breathtakingly sweet dimples as he leads you inside, bidding goodbye to your bestfriend. Jisoo must be very relieved right now ,you think.

"Do you need a glass of water ,y/n?" San asks you , as he takes you gently by the arm to his bedroom. His alert eyes are always on your steps ,making sure you do not trip on anything.

"No. " you giggle. You're so happy to be with him alone at last that you can barely contain it . "I missed you ,San."

He laughs at your words ,shaking his head in disbelief as he makes you sit on his warm ,fluffy bed.

You've always wanted to sit there.

"Waoowww , this bed is so soft. " you swing your legs up and down with a big grin on your face , "I want to sleep on this bed. Oh my god ,awww."

San sees you lean down against the headboard and laugh at the ceiling, pointing out peculiar patterns . You look very content right now ,he notices. Your flushed cheeks , big , curious eyes , messy hair , yet he thinks you look beautiful like this - raw and natural and pretty.

"San! Sit with me, come here." You say , patting the empty space beside you.

San obliges without a question. He pushes you gently to the other side of the bed , himself settling beside you , careful not to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.

"What it is that you wanted to tell me ?" San questions, his fingers reaching upto your forehead to remove the strands of hair that cover your eyes.

"Promise me you won't be mad. " You hum into his touch ,wanting nothing more than to wrap your arms around his body and snuggle into his chest. But even with alcohol in your system ,you know better than to do that.

"I promise." He replies with a toothy grin. His head leans on the headboard beside yours , his beautiful brown eyes drilling into yours ,making your knees go weak and heart flutter. And if it were possible to replace all blood from your body with physical adoration for Choi San ,you would have done it already. "Pinky promise?" You ask again ,lifting your right pinky up in front of his face.

Sighing , he connects his pinky to yours then pressing your thumbs together, "Pinky promise."

You take a deep breath then as naturally as ever ,the words you've always wanted to say roll out of your mouth , "I like you. "

San's breathing gets stuck in his throat , his whole being as if swallowed into a black hole for a few seconds. He stares at you like you were suddenly someone he'd never seen , never heard of before. Like you were a stranger that caught his eye in the mall. Like a gemstone he'd found while digging the ground. Like a precious falling star on a cloudy night.

"I-I mean we have known each other for sometime now. It's normal that you like me. As a friend." He stammers.

You roll your eyes , " I did not mean as a friend ,you idiot. I meant I like you as a man. You're so stupid, gosh." You punch his arm.

His heart skips a beat. He'd always known deep down his heart that this confession would happen one day or the other - but he had always hoped it would be him to say it first ,not you. His ego is a teeny tiny bit hurt.

"I know you don't like me , " you whine , your excited tone now suddenly switching into a sad one , " I know you won't date me."

San frowns at this new melancholic side of yours.

"Why would you think that?" He asks.

"I just know ,okay?" You say ,tears filling your eyes , " And that's why I agreed to an arranged marriage."

"You must have met someone nice then?" He takes his hand in yours.

Jongho was right - you love him. So much that it hurts to look at him ,knowing that one day you'll have to marry a man who isn't him. It hurts like someone is pressing a hot metal rod onto your skin.

You start sobbing.

"No! Of course not ! I don't want anyone but you! " You yell , a little too loud , " But my parents are still insistent about it. How do I tell them that I can't marry anyone else because I'm so in love with you?"

That's another new piece of information for San. But this one makes his heart drop into the deepest pits of his stomach , making him go numb for a few seconds. You were almost taken away from him, just because he'd always put your relationship in a complicated situation. You had almost held someone else's hand on the alter. You had almost ended up in someone else's arms.

The image of you with another man nauseates him and he decides to stop being a coward . Right now ,right at this moment .

"I like you ,too, you idiot." He says , not quite meeting your teary eyes." Don't go find anyone else. I'm here. I really am ,y/n."

His sincere voice washes over you like the first showers of monsoon - refreshing and enchanting. You feel like melting into a puddle under his gaze.

"I wasn't planning on anyway. " You sniff and rub your tears away. He leans in closer to your face , rubbing your cheekbones with the pad of his thumb. And you , being the shameless person you are , stare at his kissable, pink lips. If you lean in a little more , they'd touch and you could finally kiss him. You really want to . Would he mind ?

He presses a soft kiss on your forehead , pulling you into his warm embrace.

"I want to go to sleep and wake up like this every morning." You mumble into his chest , your hand playing with the hem of his t-shirt. "We will. I promise." he replies. The thought itself makes him feel warm inside , "I'll talk to your parents about the arranged marriage thing. They love me more than they would any other guy out there."

Your parents in fact do love San. Whenever they met him , they'd be filled with praises for him. Although a little jealous , you could easily see why San was so easy to like.

"You smell so nice." You say abruptly , drowsiness slowly taking over you , your eye lids getting heavier by the minute.

San's chest vibrates as his laugh fills the room , "Thank you, y/n."

"Will you be here when I wake up? You aren't going to run off, right? " You are just spewing out random sentences at this point but he doesn't complain either way. He likes this honest and vulnerable side of you.

"I'll be right here. Don't worry. " he whispers ,running his fingers through your hair , "But I'm pretty sure you won't remember anything tomorrow ."

You laugh, a big hearty laugh as you finally find enough courage to lightly wrap your arm around his torso. "I'll remember, San . I never forget."

San rubs your head soothingly , smiling to himself, knowing that even if you forget about it in the morning , he'll really be there to remind you of it. He'll be there by your side, as he always has been.

Every hangover is like a cycle that includes pain , regret and a promise to never drink so much again yet you somehow always seem to be struggling with the last one.

And the inevitable headache that follows makes you feel like someone had thrusted millions of knives in your head.

It hurt. Badly.

You stir in your position ,groaning at your throbbing head.

"Woah , good morning , sleepy head." San purrs into your ears , his early morning voice sending chills down your spine.

Wait. San? Choi San? With you in his arms? On a bed?

You sit up at the speed of a lightning bolt , breaking away from his warm embrace and crawling to the farthest corner of the bed. You look around the room , your heartbeat in your throat , taking in the unfamiliar surroundings that reminded you of what you might have done while in a drunken state.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Your eyes scan San, his sleepy face pressed to the pillow and his lips curved in a smile. His white t-shirt hangs loose from his shoulder, exposing the skin near his collarbone and his black, messy hair covering half of his face.

And even in panic mode , your first thought is that he looks ethereal with that early morning glow. Is this what being whipped really means?

"Y/n, don't tell me you forgot what happened last night. " he says ,visibly annoyed. He forces himself up in a sitting position as he runs his fingers through his messy hair.

You look away from him , adrenaline rushing through your veins as you try to recall last night's episode. Surely ,you didn't sleep with him since both of you are fully clothed and you didn't feel sore anywhere. Thankfully.

"Y/n? " he calls you again but you don't reply because your brain is way too occupied at the moment.

You remember the sound of a very weird combination of words leaving your mouth last night and an even weirder combination of words leaving his. And that's when it hits you - you had confessed to him. Full on movie style. All those years of daydreaming and trying to keep everything a secret gone into vain , your heart placed naked in front of him.

"Oh fucking hell." You hold your head in between your hands ,closing your eyes.

Maybe this was all a dream and if you focused hard enough ,you'd wake up in your bed , alone and yearning for the man supposedly in front of you. But that would still be better than this.

"Y/n, it's alright. You don't have to be embarrassed. " San says, inching closer to you.

You sigh. It's not a dream and you have to face him now.

"I-I'm sorry for whatever I said last night. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable at all. I don't know what had gotten into me." You say, rubbing your forehead.

By now , San is kneeling right in front of you, his galaxy filled eyes never leaving yours.

"I should be sorry , you idiot." He says , gently tapping your forehead ," if I wasn't such a coward and had confessed to you earlier , everything would have been different now. But better late than never , right?"

You gulp hard.

Now is the time to wake up , y/n, I'm going to be super pissed if this turns out to be a dream, you wonder to yourself.

"So..what you're saying is - "

"I like you , yes. Not as a friend , not as a classmate. I like you as a woman and if you agree to this ," San leans in dangerously closer , "Then I'll like you as a girlfriend, too."

You didn't need time to agree to this. You didn't need a second thought. You only need a small tug at your heartstring , which happened everytime you see his eyes focused on you and only you.

"Yes." You say.

His face breaks into a massive grin as he wraps his arms around you , with yours around his torso. You can feel the fast beating of his heart against your cheek as you snuggle into his chest .

"Thank you. Thank you so much." He whispers into your hair. Your cheeks are burning red by now but it's alright. It's a good type of burning. You can come to like it in the near future.

You don't know how long it is before he finally decides to pull away , much to your dismay.

"I'm going to make breakfast . Are pancakes okay with you?" He says , his arms by his side but his body still close to yours.

"Yeah. Obviously. " You loved his pancakes, as a matter of fact. Once, Jongho had even forced you to confess to San during your college years just so he could eat those delicious pancakes whenever he wanted to.

"Okay. You can go freshen up in the bathroom by then." He then unexpectedly takes your face in his hands , inching closer to yours with every passing second, " Don't miss me too much though."

You pout, playing along , " I already do."

And just like that , he presses his soft , luscious lips to yours, enveloping them in a quick kiss.

"Bye." And just like that too , he runs away into the kitchen , avoiding confronting what had just happened while you are left frozen and shocked and petrified and all synonyms of those words in the English dictionary.

But you hear him hum his favourite song softly from the kitchen and your shoulders relax.

Relax , y/n , you tell yourself , it's just San and he is your boyfriend now.

159 notes · View notes

fortheloveoffanfic · 3 years

Text

Behind Closed Doors

Keanu Reeves x OFC (A/n- And now, I shall make it complicated)

Masterlist

Warnings- Jealousy

Chapter 2 All In a Long Weekend

Saturday

That Saturday morning, breakfast had been done a tad earlier than usual, and afterwards, Emma had stayed back in the kitchen, packing a picnic while Keanu oversaw the children as they got ready for the day's beach trip. Matt and Poppy had been raving about their trip to Malibu for the past two weeks, asking every night before bed if they'd still be going. Each time, Emma had assured them that unless it rained, they were certainly going.

"You look excited," an older woman came up beside Emma, setting down some sodas into the cooler, just as Emma continued preparing sandwiches for the container that was set to be packed into the woven basket. She and Zelda, despite the fifteen or so years between them had become fast friends, always eager to help each other out when possible. The older woman was also sometimes keen of giving Emma little snippets of advice that she thought my be helpful; never go into Keanu's office when he had the door shut, don't give the kids ice pops inside and possibly the one that had saved her the most trouble, always check the allergy list that Keanu had stuck to the fridge before making the kids something new.

Beaming absently at her comment, Emma carried on with her task, making cheese and turkey sandwiches; a favorite among Keanu and his kids, "I am, it's been a while since I've been to the beach, and even if I'm still working, it's gonna be fun." Closing up the Tupperware, Emma set it in the basket, moving on to prepping snacks, just as Zelda started on some frozen treats for the sizable cooler. In retrospect, it might have seemed like a lot, but when you were having a day trip with kids, it was best to prepare for anything. "Plus, it'll be nice to spend some time together, just the four of us."

Furrowing her eyebrows in confusion, Zelda paused for a minute, "Five dear," she corrected, a little shocked when Emma didn't understand what she meant.

Certainly, Keanu must have told her!

But really, he hadn't.

Just as Zelda was about to explain though, the sound of the front door opening and shutting, followed by a very loud, and an annoyingly exuberant; "Darling!" After that, it wasn't long before the sound of heels clicking against the floor drew nearer, and out of the long hallway emerged a woman, tall, blonde and just as famous as Keanu.

"Sweet-" Upon seeing the pair, the Miranda Riley, former Victoria Secret model and world famous actress, stopped in her tracks, scrunching her perfectly straight nose as if she'd smelt something terrible, "Oh," her made up face fell, "Its you; Zora and…….the new one."

A little annoyed by her obviously snooty behavior, Emma opened her mouth to speak up, "Actually it's-" Though, when Zelda grabbed her arm, squeezing warningly, she shut up immediately, sealing her lips tightly.

Though, it didn't really seem like any of it greatly affected Miranda, especially when Keanu jogged into the room from the other hall, still bare foot while his worn out t-shirt was soaked at the front, probably from herding the twins into a bath. "Mandy," he grinned, and Emma swore it was stiff and forced. Maybe it was just her imagination though, cause with barely any hesitation, Keanu was taking the woman in his arms, holding her in a more than friendly hug before planting a lengthy kiss on her deep, ruby lips, one of his hands reaching up to cup her face.

The world seemed to slow down as the entire scene unfolded before her; the way he held her, looked at her when they pulled away to speak. A soft, pained gasp seeped past her lips and Emma wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting when Miranda walked into the house, but she did know that the last thing she’d predicted was that it would hurt so much. Her lungs were set ablaze and a similar sensation prickled at her eyes. Rage, betrayal, jealousy, Emma couldn’t tell which it was, but she did know that she wanted to run out of the room and not have to face Keanu for the rest of the day. Hell, maybe even the rest of the month.

Slowly, as if she were just coming up from being submerged in an ice cold bath, Emma brought herself back to the moment, raising her gaze when Keanu sought to introduce them, “Mandy, you remember I told you about Emma, our new nanny.” That was what she was, the nanny; the woman who took care of his kids, nothing more. Even if quieter moments had suggested otherwise. The tension, the long stares and innocent touches that thrilled her nerves, they meant nothing to Keanu. “And Em, this is my girlfriend, Mandy.” Well that didn’t feel like a bullet to the chest at all.

“It’s nice to meet you,” the smile that she plastered on her face was probably the hardest one she’d ever managed, and when Emma offered her hand, it wasn’t difficult to miss the flash of disgust that crossed Miranda’s pale features. Never meet your heroes, they said. For as long as Emma had known herself, Miranda had been an icon in the fashion world, she was well connected, and had set most of the trends that Emma had her friends had desperately wanted to mimic in their teens. It was her, among other inspiring names in the fashion world that had prompted Emma to go to a design institute and not a conventional college. But right then, she might have been happier going back to a time where she’d never crossed paths with Miranda.

Hesitating before offering Emma a toothy, winning grin, Miranda took her hand, shaking quickly over the counter before letting it go again, “Mmm, yes, it's…….nice to meet you too, Emily.”

“Emma,” she corrected, having to bite her tongue so she wouldn’t say anything more. The last thing she’d want was to lose her job after telling off her boss’s out of touch bitch of a girlfriend.

“Right,” Miranda appraised her look, a bright blue sundress, raising an impressed brow, probably only complimenting her to appease Keanu, “Cute dress.”

Before Emma could speak up, Keanu interjected, “She looks lovely doesn’t she? Made it herself,” he didn’t seem remotely aware of the heaviness in the room, or the way Miranda clenched her jaw when another slew of praises for Emma left his lips, “She’s so talented, Poppy is already roping her into making princess dresses for Halloween,” he chuckled, shaking in his head.

After another minute spent gritting her teeth, Miranda sought to change the topic, clearly having had her fill of Keanu’s pride in his nanny, “Where are the little ones anyway? It's nearly ten, we’re going to be late.”

With that, Emma’s head snapped towards Zelda, who'd opted to finish the cooler and snacks in silence, so she wouldn’t have to endure any of the painstaking conversation, “She’s going?” She whispered when Keanu and Miranda weren’t looking, eyes wide and frenzied.

“Yeah,” she nodded, barely looking as Emma when she followed her to the fridge, while Keanu and Miranda spoke, or rather, canoodled in hushed tones, "I feel like I should have told you he has a girlfriend," Zelda paused, just after reaching for a half filled carton of strawberries.

"Ya think?" Emma hissed, glancing backwards at the couple, feeling her heart pinch at how lovey dovey they were. She could have sworn there was something between herself and Keanu. "How hard was it to say 'Hey Em, you know our boss has this girlfriend, and she's like, a total bitch.' What the hell does he even see in her anyway?"

"She's tall and gorgeous?" Zelda shrugged casually, "Look, I don't get it either, but he loves her, they've been together for almost two years and I think she's convinced him to go public by the end of this year." Her face fell at Emma's troubled expression, reaching out to rub her shoulder sympathetically, "I see the way you look at him, and if there's something between you two, then……and I don't mean this harshly at all, maybe you need to back down. Miranda, she's……she's not someone you want to mess with," sighing deeply, Zelda peered over to see if they were being overheard, "She gets what she wants, and right now, she wants Keanu and you don't want to be in her way."

Gritting her teeth, Emma pulled away harshly, "I don't know what the hell you're talking about," she squared her shoulders, "There's nothing between Keanu and I," maybe she was getting more defensive than she needed to be, but Emma didn't care. "I'm gonna go finish getting the twins ready," she announced loudly, stalking out of the room and down the hall, and hopefully, leaving behind whatever she'd started to feel for her boss.

As it turned out, Matt and Poppy had all but put their clothes on over their swimsuits, and they were so excited about going, that they got into their little summery outfits without fuss. Afterwards, tiny feet clad in colorful sandals, they raced each other downstairs, leaving Emma to collect their bags before she headed down.

She was walking towards the stairs, backpacks in hands, really just minding her own business, having just started to calm down after the whole Keanu/Miranda fiasco, when, just as she neared the door of Keanu's home office, she heard it. He was deep in conversation, and had unknowingly left the door just a sliver open, enough for her to catch on to some juicy bits. "I know mom," he sounded exasperated, and when she dared to peek in, Emma found that his back was to her, as he stood facing the window, one hand stuffed into the pocket of his jeans, "But I'm not getting any younger, what do you want me to do? Wait till I'm sixty?" He sighed heavily, shaking his head, "Matt and Poppy need a mother, and Miranda……" he trailed off, listening intently to what his mother had to say. Leaning closer, Emma wished she could be privy to the other end of the call, aching to hear what his mother thought about the succubus that he called a girlfriend. But alas, she'd have to settle for whatever she got.

After a few minutes had passed, Keanu spoke again, turning around, leaving Emma to dash for cover, though still within earshot. For a minute, she held her breath, awaiting the moment where Keanu would poke his head out the door and catch her eavesdropping. But it never came, and instead, he continued, "I think I'm going to do it tomorrow night, we're going to dinner, and the nanny will watch the kids. I have the ring already. I think she might like it."

Ring?

The sirens in Emma's head were going off so loudly that she barely registered his tone, the absence of excitement or joy, things that were usually there when someone was smitten enough to propose. There was too much going on in her head; the irrational fear of never having a chance with Keanu, the more rational fear that Miranda might become her boss too. Tuning out the rest of the conversation, not caring to hear anymore, Emma dragged herself towards the stairs, slinking down towards the kitchen, where she found Zelda entertaining the children.

“Everything okay?” She probed when Emma placed the bags on the counter, next to the cooler and picnic basket, her features still crestfallen.

“Yeah,” she mustered up a smile, inching closer to her friend, her voice dropping an octave, “I think Keanu’s going to propose to Miranda, like tomorrow night.”

“What?” Zelda’s eyes went wide, her jaw hanging slack, and she almost dropped the dishes she had just started putting into the cupboards, “How do you know that, did he tell you?”

“Tell her what?” Speak of the devil. Miranda startled them both, and for a second, Emma was worried that she’d overheard their conversation, though that too was short lived.

“Everyone ready?” Keanu strode into the room, and though Emma wanted to meet his gaze, she restrained herself, not even trying to respond, just going over to gather some of their things, her teary smile faltering when the kids excitedly started following her to the car.

At some point, Miranda had eased Keanu away from where they’d set up their picnic on the beach, urging him into a walk even though the kids had pleaded with him to stay and help them build sandcastles. Emma had taken his place, helping them with their little construction project, highly aware of how upset Poppy still was. “You okay Pop?”

The girl frowned, using her fragile fingers to sweep some hair out of her face, “I wish daddy would have stayed and built it with us,” she mumbled, dumping another bucket of sand to create segment of the castle, though doing it so harshly that the new section just crumbled, “He always leaves when aunt Mandy comes around.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” even if she didn’t like Miranda, if she was going to be Matt and Poppy’s step mother, Emma couldn’t go around bad mouthing her to them, “I’m sure he still spends time with you. And aunt Miranda seems really like you two.”

“Not as much as you,” that was Matt, his expression skewed by his dark mane falling over his face, “She’s always telling us to be quiet. And she’s so boring,” he stressed, lurching forward, only half interested in ranting about Miranda, still very invested in their sandcastle, “She almost made dad stop my swimming lessons.”

“What?” That time, it was a struggle to keep her annoyance at bay. Even if it was just one side, even if Matt couldn’t possibly know the entire truth, it was still enough to rile Emma up. How dare she? Matt was the best on his team! Taking a breath, Emma knew it was time to shift the conversation, and cheer the twins up before she said something that she’d regret, “You know what? Why don’t we give this a break? We can go to the water, have a splash war!”

“Yeah!” They jumped up immediately, barely giving Emma a minute to shimmy out of her sundress, revealing her simple, floral bikini before joining them in the water. It didn’t take long to lift their spirits, and before long, Matt and Poppy were teaming up to out splash Emma. Their gleeful giggles were music to her ears and she adored seeing their wide grins. They’d waited almost a month for that trip, they deserved to enjoy as much as they could, even if Miranda was going to take up most of Keanu’s time.

They probably spent hours past noon in the water, and not once did anyone’s smile falter. Emma gave them ice pops, and insisted that they have some water once or twice, though each time, they accepted without fuss, and she couldn’t tell if was the sugar from their snacks, or just how immersed they were in the games, but even when Keanu and Miranda returned near sunset, they didn’t show signs of tire.

“You guys having all the fun without me?” Keanu let go of Miranda’s hand, standing where the water would wash over his feet, pulling the sand back as it receded.

A pang of anger flared inside of her, making Emma want to remind Keanu that he was the one that left, but she suppressed it. A fight wouldn’t solve anything. She was so caught up in being annoyed with Keanu, that she hadn't noticed how dark his gaze had grown when his eyes fell on her, kneeling in the water, rivulets rolling off her tan skin, the top of her bathing suit pressing her breasts together, a generous amount of her cleavage spilling out voluptuously. “Well why don’t you join in?” She made herself laugh, and while Emma was hardly as much of an actor as the two A listers before her, she’d liked to think she managed pretty well.

“Sounds great,” he didn’t even seem to notice Emma’s irritation, bubbling beneath the surface. In a flash, he was pulling off his t-shirt, tossing it to the sand, getting into water wearing just his swim trunks, and as he drew closer, his cheerful tone faltered, probably realizing that being in the water with her wasn’t going to do him any favors, “Do you guys wanna play chicken fight?” Keanu turned to his kids, only to be met with excited nods, “And maybe Mandy wants to play too?” He turned to her, eyes somewhat hopeful, “And we can let Em have a break,” swallowing thickly.

“Oh, I…..” Miranda seemed perfectly out of her element, smoothing a hand over her stylish, white sundress, and then pushing up the dark tinted sunglasses, which formerly guarded crystal green orbs. It took a minute, but eventually, she conjured up a tight grin, “Chicken fight isn’t really my kind of game,” she laughed nonchalantly, “Besides, the water will ruin my hair. You should let Emily play, childish nonsense seems right up her alley.”

Subduing the urge to roll her eyes and fire a few obscenities towards Miranda, Emma took a breath, gazing between Keanu, who’d gone cold, and Miranda who’s wicked mirth was reflected in her defiant smile, “Like I said this morning, it’s just Emma. And that’s fine, I actually love childish nonsense, its way more fun than sitting on the sand like a……” stuck up bitch, “Boring grown up.”

Amused with her half hearted insult, Matt laughed loudly, while Poppy just giggled, already trying to get up on Emma’s shoulders. Fuming, Miranda turned on her heel, stomping off towards the mat, and it wasn’t long before the rest of them had forgotten the almost-spat, getting on with their game.

Monday

As usual, Emma was up early, preparing breakfast for everyone. It was just past seven am, and since Mondays didn’t promise cartoon reruns, the kids weren’t up yet. Instead, Zelda had come in earlier than usual, saying that she wanted to get a head start on the housework, but really just looking to gossip. They were in the kitchen together, preparing for hash browns, eggs and bacon, working over quiet chatter, “So…” Zelda nudged Emma’s shoulder with her own.

“So?” Emma chuckled, nudging her back, the comfy cotton of her robe brushing against the sleeve of Zelda’s shirt. She knew exactly what her friend was seeking, but truthfully, she didn’t know how Keanu’s proposal had gone. All she knew was that they’d left for dinner around seven, leaving her to make something for Matt and Poppy, and hadn’t returned until the twins had fallen asleep and Emma had stolen away to her room.

“So, is the wicked witch of the west coast going to be out new boss or not?” Zelda teased, continuing with helping Emma shred some potatoes.

“Honestly-” Emma cut herself off when Keanu walked in, sans shirt and with low riding sweat pants. His hair was a mess, and his good morning was punctuated by a tired yawn. "Good morning Keanu," both women greeted in unison, sharing a look.

They both wanted to know so badly that the itch was almost physical, but it wasn't like they could simply ask. With their one question would come a dozen more from Keanu. Though, as faith would have it, the truth they were seeking wasn't far behind a still half asleep Mr. Reeves.

"Darling," an all too familiar voice purred, shuffling into the kitchen, her blonde hair held up in a loose ponytail and her elegant frame wrapped up in fine satin. Unlike Keanu, Miranda didn't even bother with pleasantries, going straight over to where he stood at the integrated refrigerator, holding him in a hug from behind, strategically angling her left hand so the large rock on her finger would be on full display.

"Still wanna know?" Emma whispered near Zelda's ear, their heads almost touching.

Scoffing, Zelda seemed caught between a sarcastic smirk and a frown, "Not any more."

And because the world was such a cruel place and open wounds would be pointless without a little salt, Miranda abruptly turned to them. "Ladies! Have you two seen my ring?" Without warning she thrust her hand towards them, making the engagement ring on her finger hard to avoid, "Gorgeous right? Keke loves to spoil me," her words were perfectly gag worthy and Emma was finding it difficult to keep down the half cup of coffee she'd had. It wasn't like she was opposed to love or affection or anything, she'd really liked to think of herself as well adjusted in that way, but during the one weekend she'd spent around Miranda, her affections for Keanu always seemed so dramatic that it was nothing short of an elaborate farce.

Yet, it wasn't like she had much of a choice when it came to going forward and having to endure it. Jobs in the fashion world were hard to come by and freelancing would hardly be enough to cover living expenses. So, alas, she'd have to put up with Miranda for a quite while to come. "Don't worry Emily," Emma hadn't even realized she'd zoned out until Miranda called her by the wrong name, for probably the dozenth time. At her next words, Miranda's voice dropped below what Keanu could hear, and there was a wicked glimmer in her gaze, "You're pretty enough, I'm sure you can trick a man into buying you a nice ring. Might not be as many carats, but you'll manage."

That little quip was definitely pay back for Saturday. Fuming, Emma longed to just let her have it, but she was growing so versed in holding her tongue that she did again, deciding right then and there that as much as she loved the kids, she was wholly willing to take the next sustaining job as long as Miranda was in the picture.

*****

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x ofc #keanu reeves fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #nanny au #au #ff #chapter 2

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twisted-tales-of-all · 3 years

Text

Stuck in the Game

Mafia!Dad!Yunhyeong x Mom!Reader ft. Mafia!ATEEZ, Mafia!iKON, Mafia!BTS

Summary: When your daughter, Soojin, finally finds someone she likes, her father freaks out because, despite his best efforts to keep her out of that life, the boy in question is also a mafia member. A rival group finds the couple and uses the relationship as blackmail.

Anon Request: a long and specific request that started with dad!Wonwoo but was changed to Yunhyeong and we edited the specifics together so idk what to put here anymore lol

Word Count: 3.3-3.4K

Contains: mafia!AU, violence, guns, kidnapping, blackmail, reunion of old friends-turned-rivals, forced cooperation, fluff, angst

A/N: This took forever for me to get the energy to type out and format, I’m sorry, but I’m proud that I implemented all the aspects I wanted to in this.

If 17-year-old you could see yourself now, you don't know whether the reaction would be amazement or fear. At age 23, you were a performer and bartender for a high-end bar famous for its mafia visitors. You'd often listen to their meetings whenever they requested "beautiful company," and that made you a very valuable person in the business, even without you trying to be.

When the day you feared finally came, your kidnappers wanted all the information you had from other mafia groups. They were very kind to you, treating you like a valuable treasure. They called themselves iKON, and the moniker was written in numerous places in the house. Their leader, B.I., insisted you be treated like royalty, but one of the boys enjoyed the chaos of going against the leader's requests. He was a charmer, and you fell for him quickly. Gradually, the romantic encounters turned into sexual encounters, and you found out that you were pregnant with his child shortly after.

Until the day you told him of the pregnancy, you only knew him by his mafia name, Song. When you revealed your secret, however, he happily disclosed that "Yunhyeong will be a good father. Don't worry." It was his way of disconnecting his mafia status from his child. You figured this out as he moved you out of the mafia base with B.I.'s approval and bought a good home for you both to stay.

You remember the day you gave birth as if it was yesterday. You remember the joy that swept away all the pain as you held your newborn daughter. You remember all the boys visiting you at different times, and you'll never forget how proud Yunhyeong looked as he introduced his squad to his daughter.

Soojin. You remember her baby face without issue, even though it was 17 years ago. Your daughter grew up so fast - as you're told they all do.

Soojin and her father get along so well. Both of them are trouble makers, so you always see them planning chaos or laughing about something together. You and your daughter talk about deeper subjects more often than not, so seeing her being carefree and enjoying life with Yunhyeong brings so much joy to your heart.

Today, however, you catch them fighting. You don't hear the topic, only Soojin storming out after her final jab at her father, "You don't understand me at all!"

Seeing the pain on Yunhyeong's face hurts, but you decide to check in with your daughter instead, knowing that Yunhyeong can handle himself. Following Soojin, you find her on the front porch, sitting with her arms wrapped around her legs and her head buried in her knees. You sit down next to her, the wooden patio revealing your presence with a creak. You don't say anything before she immediately begins ranting about her father.

"Why doesn't he understand? Why can't he just be happy that I found someone that makes me happy?"

This is the first time your daughter has ever mentioned anything along the lines of having a crush, so you know it must be important to her, "Soojin, you've found someone?" You try approaching the situation softly, opting to learn about her partner before thinking about why her father would be upset.

"Mom, he's amazing. He's really sweet and caring. He takes me to nice parks, and we message every single day. He's pretty tall and really cute, too."

"So, what's this boy's name?"

"Hyunwoo. Jeong Hyunwoo. He's a year older than I am, and he's technically in the mafia - he was born into it just like me - but he treats me so well."

Suddenly, you understand why Yunhyeong freaked out over Soojin's boyfriend, but you don't bring it up just yet, "Jeong Hyunwoo. He sounds nice. Have you met his family?"

"Yup! We hang out with his dad a lot. He's super cool. Makes lots of jokes. His mom died when he was younger, and he's an only child, so it's just the two of them. For some reason, though, dad freaked out on me when I told him. Something about dangerous relationships and hoping I'd never have to deal with this stuff. I have no idea what he's talking about. Ugh, it's not fair. Why can't he be cool about it like Hyunwoo's dad?"

"Honey, your father just wants to protect you. He'll come around. He just knows someone he has bad blood with that has the same last name. They used to be friends but the friend was recruited into a mafia group, which meant he never even said his goodbyes to your father."

"But dad's in the mafia, so what's the big deal?"

With a sigh, you reveal some of your husband's past, "Your dad didn't choose to join. He had to join or they would've killed him for the damages he caused as a teenager. He despises the lifestyle, but there's no way to leave once you become part of it. Your father accepted the life he was forced into and did his best with what was given to him. His friend, Yunho, on the other hand, was invited and willingly chose to join. He does want you to be happy, but he's worried about your life if you date a mafia member."

"Well, what about you? Why'd he date you if that was the case? He was okay involving you?"

You laugh and shake your head. You think back on the unconventional relationship you and your now-husband had before the marriage, but decide not to explain that quite yet, "That's a very long and complicated story for another day. Just know that your situation is extremely different from mine. If you truly love Hyunwoo, don't let your father's attitude affect the relationship. When he sees you truly happy, he'll support you. Believe me."

You could tell that Soojin wasn't quite convinced, but she was always head-strong, so you also know that she will continue her relationship. So, you weren't surprised when she came to you a few days after and announced that she had a date with Hyunwoo. Watching her walk out in her cute date outfit, you can't help but feel proud of her for following her heart.

During the date, you finally confront Yunhyeong, "She'll be okay, y'know? She's the daughter of two very strong people, and we've raised her well."

"I tried so hard to keep her out of the mafia life. And a Jeong of all people could ruin all of that."

You place a hand on his back, "Yunhyeong, you can't use your past against her future. Aren't you happy Soojin finally found her first love?"

"Well, yeah, but..." He sighs, deciding not to finish his complaint.

"She'll be fine."

---

Soojin meets with Hyunwoo at the coffee shop down the street. When he sees her, the smile shows on his whole face.

"You look so beautiful." He places a kiss on her head and takes the seat across from her.

"Thanks, Hyunwoo. My mom helped choose my outfit and styled my hair for me."

Unknown to the couple basking in their puppy love, a low-ranking member of another mafia group sits at the next table and recognizes Hyunwoo's name. To confirm that he's the right person, the member listens in on their conversation.

"How's training? Is your dad being hard on you?"

"Naw, it's pretty smooth. What about you, though? How'd your parents react when you told them?"

"My mom is understanding. She fell for a member, too, after all, so she can relate. My dad, on the other hand... Ugh, he's so difficult!"

At this point, the stranger decides to alert his higher-ups of this potential Achilles' heel for the ATEEZ mafia team.

"He doesn't approve?"

"He hates that I'm becoming part of a lifestyle he tried so hard to keep me out of. My mom said it has to do with your name, too. Apparently, my dad's childhood friend ended up willingly joining the mafia without saying goodbye, and his last name was Jeong."

No longer paying attention, the stranger has been communicating with other members about following the couple around for a kidnapping so they can blackmail their rival mafia group. When the couple leaves the cafe, he follows them to a nearby park, his last-second assignment to find her house underway.

At the end of the date, Hyunwoo walks Soojin back home, finding you sitting out on the porch, reading under the warm light.

"Hey. mom! I'm back!"

As you look up from the book, you find your daughter waving at you with one hand as her other arm links with a nervous-looking boy. You stand up to greet them, and you notice Hyunwoo relax a bit when he realizes how nice you are. You have a short chat before Hyunwoo claims he should get home before his father worries.

"Thank you for walking Soojin home. Get home safely."

You and your daughter watch as he leaves, then she enthusiastically recounts the events of the date. Seeing her this happy makes you smile, as she hasn't smiled this brightly since she was a young child. When the two of you head inside, she falls asleep the moment she lays down. You meet with your husband in your shared bedroom.

"How is he?"

"He seems sweet. He was clearly nervous when he saw me, and he genuinely seems to love her and wants to keep her safe."

"That's good." His robotic response ends the conversation, so you both get into bed.

A few weeks pass before Soojin and Hyunwoo have time for another date. You offer to drive her to the arcade, but she insists on walking to enjoy the nice weather. You kiss her forehead as you tell her to be safe, then watch her until she leaves your view.

Maybe an hour later, an exhausted Hyunwoo comes banging on your front door.

Between moments to catch his breath, he pleads, "Please... tell me Soojin is here... She never came..."

Even though you answered the door, Yunhyeong hears and freaks out. "I told you, Y/N! It's too dangerous for her! She might've been kidnapped!"

You quickly bring Hyunwoo inside, looking up and down the street before closing and locking the door. Once both boys have calmed down a bit, you try calling your daughter, but you're immediately sent to the voicemail. Moments later, Hyunwoo gets a call from his father, who sounds very confused but speaks urgently without revealing details. When Hyunwoo tells him where he is, his father hangs up. Ten minutes later, Yunho pulls up with his leader in the passenger seat. You let them in quickly, only for chaos to ensue the moment Yunhyeong sees Yunho.

He abruptly stands, the chair falling behind him, "Get out of my house."

"Babe, we both want the same things right now. Put the rivalry aside." You try.

"It's him, Y/N. This is the bastard who left without so much as a goodbye."

Time feels frozen as everyone's eyes go wide. Yunho sighs, breaking the silence.

"Hello, Song. It's been a while. You may hate me for the past, but your daughter has been kidnapped. She's being held as blackmail against my group. So, unless you want her to die there, I suggest you put that hatred aside so we can save her."

"Dad?"

"I don't know what you've learned, Hyunwoo, but Song and I were best friends until I chose to join the group, which forced us to cut ties. Their group is a rival; there wasn't much choice in the matter." Yunho says it as if it was rehearsed for years, his eyes still transfixed on Yunhyeong's.

The ATEEZ leader clears his throat before moving forward with the information he has, "I'm HJ, and I received a link to this video earlier." He hits play on his tablet and talks over the soundless visual of your daughter tied down to a chair, "This was accompanied by a message demanding that we give up some of our fronts to them or she dies. I don't think they realize she's your daughter, or else they'd be blackmailing your group as well."

The four boys discuss further action while you listen, quietly analyzing the options. Hours pass without much progress being made. When you finally try to chime in about going to get her yourself, using the same tactics you used as a dancer, there's another knock on the door. The room instantly falls silent as Yunhyeong slinks toward the door, a hand on his gun. As he looks through the peephole, his body relaxes. Keeping his hand on the gun in case of ambush, he opens the door for B.I., who gives him a pitiful look before stepping inside.

"This doesn't look good, Song." The leader states as he pulls out an envelope addressed to iKON.

Opening it, Yunhyeong finds a lock of hair and a handwritten note:

iKON, we have one of your members. This member is a daughter of one of your high ranks. We suggest you follow the instructions on the back of this message if you want to see her ever again.

On the back, the instructions simply list a date, time, and place to meet, followed by their demands of a certain area under iKON's control. From the handwritten element, Yunhyeong quickly narrows down the suspects to two cocky newer groups: Bangtan or The Strays.

"Why is ATEEZ here?" B.I. asks when he reaches the others.

"Soojin is my girlfriend."

"And Hyunwoo is my son. It was easy blackmail for them."

HJ stands and holds out a hand to B.I., "Looks like we have to work together this time."

He reluctantly shakes his hand, gripping tightly, "Only this once. I don't want to lose that zone, but I can't risk Song going insane over his daughter's death either."

The debating and planning continue with more force, as the deadline doesn't give much time. Now that they can narrow down the subjects, they can plan in more depth. The two groups in question are much cockier, so they'll expect the ultimatum to be enough for cooperation. However, they're both smart enough to plan defenses in case of an ambush, and they have the numbers on their side. You're quick to point out that Bangtan's numbers don't show for power, as the top seven do everything themselves rather than relying on others, protective of everything they started together. Hyunwoo adds that The Strays don't have the same numbers as Bangtan, but that power is much more balanced, with each of the top members taking assistants by their side.

"We have to assume this is Bangtan. I don't think The Strays would be this aggressive. They'd take their sweet time with their attack. They'd probably kidnap Soojin and Hyunwoo together so that they have a larger upperhand." B.I. declares, repeating for clarity, "Bangtan do things on impulse like this. The Strays think too much."

Agreeing, you all begin fully planning the attack. Ultimately, Hyunwoo and Yunhyeong will attend the meeting, since they're the clear emotional targets in this scheme. You will infiltrate enemy lines if at all possible, with the support of the ATEEZ elite hacker, Yeosang. B.I. and HJ will join each group's top sniper, aiming at whoever joins the meeting on the opposite side, as well as keeping eye on anyone who comes into contact with you. Everyone wants this done as quickly and quietly as possible.

After two agonizingly-long days, the plans are put into action. Yeosang finds you an entrance around the side of the building, disabling its alarm long enough for you to get inside. You quickly find yourself in a group of other girls who are being given simple equipment. As you approach, the person hanging out guns asks for your member number. Without fail, iKON's intel expert spits out a number that you repeat with confidence.

"Name?"

"Kim Eunsoo." You relay the information you're given and receive a small handgun.

You follow the others, blindly acting like the rest of the pack. You don't have sight on the meeting, but you find yourself face-to-face with one of Bangtan's top members. He gives you a once-over before giving you the 'follow me' gesture with his fingers. Although you're scared, remembering rumors of him being the harshest of the members despite his sweet-sounding name.

When Suga finally leads you far enough from the others, he throws a hand around your throat and leans in close, "Do you think we're that dumb?"

He pulls your earpiece from your ear and breaks it under his foot before moving his hand to your hair, dragging you to the meeting. He cuffs your wrists behind your back before pushing you to the floor next to your daughter.

"Well, well, well. You actually did try some tricks. Good for you. Now, we have both of your girls, Song. You better give us what we want." RM, Bangtan's leader claims, a smirk plastered on his face the whole time.

He clearly sounds victorious, so you refuse to look up, hiding your proud smile since they're falling so easily into the trap everyone set. There were no disguises; you meant to get caught. As he continues his victory monologue, you fidget with the handcuffs, slipping out easily without letting them see. You press a button planted in the fake wedding ring you're wearing, alerting everyone that you've freed yourself and can continue the plan.

See, they neglected to take the loaded gun back, believing you wouldn't be able to use it anyway due to the constraints.

"RM, tell me. You think we're idiots for trying to beat you this time, right?" Hyunwoo mocks, cutting off the mafia boss mid-sentence, "You think we'd send Y/N in without a disguise and expect to get a win like that. Isn't that right, buddy?"

Right on queue, you point your gun at RM, and the snipers turn the scope lights on, revealing that the other members have targets on their chests. The leader chuckles and raises his hands.

"Oh no! They have us surrounded! Can you believe this, Jin?" Sarcasm flowing from every word, you realize he's planned for far more than you expected.

Understanding RM's plans at the same time, Hyunwoo lunges toward his girlfriend, shielding her body with his. Shots sound. Groans echo through the building as bullets pierce skin, followed quickly by shuffling feet to get the wounded out of harm's way.

When the dust settles, Yunho and B.I. quickly work to treat the wounded. As B.I. removes a bullet from your right shoulder, you tell him that you hit RM clean in the leg.

"It seemed like slow motion. I watched the bullet break his skin right before the pain hit my back."

"If you're such a good shot, we should train you properly. Dunno if your husband would approve, though."

Everyone made it back safely, so you're all exceptionally happy about how smooth it went. Only you and Hyunwoo actually got hit, and, luckily, neither shot hit anything vital. You also know Bangtan didn't suffer many injuries either, which gives you peace of mind.

Once B.I. finishes dressing the wound, you meet with Yunhyeong, who won't stop thanking Hyunwoo for jumping on top of Soojin and taking the bullet. You drag him away and have him meet with Yunho, who sits on the roof with a celebratory bottle of beer.

"Hey... Thanks for helping save our daughter." Yunhyeong nervously starts, sitting in between the two of you.

"Now, Yunho, so you want to tell Yunhyeong what you told me?"

Silence falls over the group momentarily.

"Nah, I think this speaks enough." Stubbornly, he takes another swig of his drink before laying back, "I'll help my friends, even if the companies we work for are rivals."

As silence creeps in again, you decide not to push for it anymore tonight. You already have a nice victory to sit on, so you feel no need to try for another. You lay down and let your mind drift as you stare up at the stars, knowing full well that Yunhyeong will accept Hyunwoo as family, meaning Yunho will slowly become part of the family as well.

#kpop boys #kpop scenarios #kpop boy scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop writing #kpop fanfiction #ikon scenarios #ikon imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #mafia ateez #mafia ikon #mafia bts #song yunhyeong #ikon song #ikon yunhyeong #mafia yunhyeong #mafia kpop

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staticscreenwriting · 4 years

Text

Wonderful tonight // F.M.

Synopsis: Reader is Pope’s sister and her and Frankie have been dancing around each other for years. Now Pope is getting married and emotions are running high and Frankie and Reader are both single at the same time for the first time ever. It’s all about the longing, the yearning.

A/N: This entire thing was inspired by that picture of Pedro in the header and how handsome he is. This is my first time writing for this fandom and I rewrote this story about 5 million times. If you like it let me know if you don’t then you can also let me know if you want. I did run this through spellcheck but it’s not really edited. I don’t have the time, honestly. Just ignore mistakes, please and thank you. Hope you enjoy.

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

“ One day I’m gonna stand right over there. I’m gonna wear an expensive suit and shiny shoes. I’m gonna get my hair done real nice, and probably have a flower pinned to my jacket. My hands will be clammy and my heart will be racing. There will be flowers, lots of them, all over the garden. We'll have a musician playing acoustic guitar. All my friends will be there, and — and our entire crazy family. And I’m gonna get married to the love of my life. Right here. And things will be good. People will be happy.”

“ Mom will probably be crying. “

“ Oh for sure. “

As she steps out into the garden, (Y/N) can’t help but let her mind wander back to that one summer night a long time ago. Pope was fresh out of high school then, about to move out and start the rest of his life, away from home. Nights like these, sitting in the garden of their childhood home and sharing silly stories and hopes and fears, were numbered. That’s the thing about having siblings, it really only occurs to you how important they are to you when you’re faced with the idea of a life without them. So they sat there, on the steps of the porch, ice-cold cans of coke in hand and hearts open and vulnerable. Pope had never shared any of his dreams with her, not like this at least. But maybe him leaving home made him feel nostalgic too.

Her eyes meet his across the aisle and he smiles at her with his signature Santiago Garcia smile, the one that’s gotten him out of so much trouble when he was younger, the one that looks so much like their mother’s. An ocean of flowers surrounds him, just like he said it would. And their entire crazy family has taken their seats, ready to watch him get married to the love of his life. (Y/N) has always been proud of her brother's achievements, in and outside of the army. But she’s never been more proud than today.

Will softly links his arm with her’s as they walk down the aisle to take their respective places as bridesmaid and groomsman. The air is filled with the soft melodic strumming of an acoustic guitar and the perpetual scent of peonies. The rational part of (Y/N)’s brain knows that life isn’t like the movies but maybe, she thinks, sometimes life grants us a little moment in which we get to relish in a bit of that magic that makes those films so enchanting.

Just as she’s predicted all those years ago, her mother is crying. Big happy tears roll down her blushed cheeks. If we’re being entirely honest, neither (Y/N) nor their mother had really believed they’d ever see Pope up there, wearing an expensive suit and shiny shoes and waiting for the love of his life to walk down the aisle so he can marry her and start their happily ever after. Then again, ever since he was little Pope always found a way to get the things he wanted if he only set his mind to it. The sky was and still is the limit for her brother and that is something (Y/N) is infinitely envious of and wonderfully amazed by at the same time.

As they reach the front, Will lets go of her arm and walks right to stand with Pope and the groomsmen and she walks to the left stepping up beside the maid of honor.

It all goes so fast from then on, one more bridesmaid and groomsman, the flower girls, then the bride. She looks gorgeous and she’s smiling the biggest smile. It’s one that just radiates with pure unfiltered joy. And there’s love in her eyes. So much love. The way she looks at Pope leaves no doubt about her feelings for him. It’s the most basic of all human emotions and yet the most complex to grasp though at that moment, in her eyes and his, it’s so clear to see and so easy to understand.

(Y/N) feels her heart do a little stutter as she allows herself, for the first time that day, to let her eyes wander towards the row of groomsmen. This is, by all accounts, a bad decision that’s only gonna hurt. Self-destructive behavior is something she’s pretty good at though.

Frankie stands next to Pope like a rock, sturdy and determined and ready to catch him if he were to stumble or fall. That is something so enigmatic about Frankie. As flimsy and unpredictable he can be when it comes to himself, he’s incredibly loyal towards his friends and loved ones. He does not falter, does not shake. Not for his loved ones, never.

The dark blue suit looks good on him, it fits him like a glove and it must’ve been expensive. Though (Y/N) can’t help but feel like something is missing. This isn’t the Frankie she knows. The one she —. Granted, it’s been years but still, there’s something funny and peculiar about Frankie in a fancy suit.

His lips are pulled up in a small, gentle smile. One that makes a comfortable warmth settle in (Y/N)’s heart. This man is both so familiar and yet so complicated. He’s been a constant in (Y/N)’s life for a long while now, ever since the first time Pope brought him around for dinner. Even without any blood relation, those two are brothers through and through. Will and Benny too. Those four, forever bound to one another by the horrors they’ve seen, the pain they’ve felt, and the family that developed along the way.

(Y/N) loves those boys, they are as much a part of her family now as they are of Pope's and yet, something about Frankie always felt different. From the first moment, their eyes met, the air filled with a strong magnetic pull. Invisible but palpable. It was always special. Always. Frankie is the kind of guy one can call at 3 am because you’ve heard a scary sound and don’t feel safe and he’ll jump into his car and come check it out for you and protect you, no questions asked. And he never wants anything in return. He just gives because that’s what his heart tells him too. The world, (Y/N) thinks, needs more people like Frankie.

He’s not without his issues, far from it really, and (Y/N) can acknowledge that. But the sum of his faults does not undo the size of his heart. Somewhere along the way of their friendship things changed. It was a gradual change, slow and steady like water down a stream. Glances lingered, hands kept brushing more frequently and the air held a perpetual sizzle of static. Though neither of them ever admitted it, they both knew it was there. Hell, even the boys, foolish and naive as they could be, noticed. It was a well-known secret.

If life really was a movie, the two of them would’ve gotten a happily ever after by now. A dance on a rooftop, a kiss in the rain, a soft indie song leading them into the end credits. A gentle epilogue to a slow burn romance.

But life really isn’t a movie. Everything seems to be working against them. Mostly time and cultural conventions. This man is her brother’s friend. Her brother’s brother. You don’t date your brother's friends, that’s like an unwritten rule. But time is probably the worst of their enemies. It never seems to be on their side. They’ve never been single at the same time. Frankie went through several more or less serious relationships and while (Y/N) hasn’t found anyone to settle down with permanently, there’d been men she lent her heart to.

Last year, just a few weeks before Pope swept his band of merry men off on their suicide mission to Colombia, (Y/N) moved back home after ending a 3-year relationship. Dave was — he was nice. Nice and secure and stable and boring. Something about him felt too squeaky clean. That night, looking at old pictures of herself and the boys that were proudly displayed on the fireplace in her parent’s living room, it became abundantly clear to her that Dave wasn’t the problem. The problem was that Dave wasn’t Francisco. She’d really set her mind to it then, to pull herself together and muster up the courage to finally seek a conversation with him about the elephant in the room they both had refused to acknowledge for so long. She’d been determined. Then Pope dropped a bomb on her.

“So Frankie and his girl are having a baby.”

And from that moment on she refused to let herself entertain any thought of her and him having any kind of future that went beyond being friends. It hurt, god it hurt like hell. But dreaming of things that could never be wasn’t doing her any good either.

Seeing him now, looking all snazzy in his suit and smiling, it sends a familiar shive through her body and makes the moths in her stomach go crazy. If only life was a movie. If only.

The ceremony passes in the blink of an eye. There’s happy tears, lots of them but love shines brightly through it all. Every glance, every touch, every word spoken. As her brother and his new wife make their way down the aisle, (Y/N) dares to take another glance towards Frankie and, for the first time that day, he’s looking back.

The world doesn’t shift or shake right then, doesn’t spin out of its axis. Nothing fundamentally changes but the air feels different. The electricity is back. The magnetic pull. The undeniable attraction. Just like that, they are both thrown back into this everlasting limbo of what-ifs.

(Y/N) looks away before her heart can break further, knowing what could’ve been and what can never be.

Weddings have this strange side effect of making you think about your own romantic entanglements. It’s not necessarily a bad thing or a sad thing. It’s just a fact. Seeing other people’s love being displayed so prominently, being celebrated, it makes you wonder. Will I ever find this kind of love?

“ You know, I think you and I gotta have a talk.” Pope’s voice holds a certain edge to it, a teasing tone she’s heard so many times growing up.

“ About what? Shouldn’t you be dancing with your wife right now? “

“ Ah, she got caught up in a conversation with her aunt, something about corgis. Once that woman starts going there’s no stopping her. It’s — it’s a lot.”

“ And you left your wife behind to fend for herself? What a way to start life as a married couple.”

Pope gives her a chuckle and their silly banter makes (Y/N) feel like a kid again.

“ So I’m gonna need you to talk to Fish. “

“ Huh? “

“ Oh don’t play dumb. I’ve known you your whole life, kiddo. I know when something’s going on with you and something is definitely going on.”

“ What’s my emotional turmoil got to do with Frankie?”

Her older brother raises his eyebrow in mock offense. As if to say “you really think I’m that dumb?”

“ You two have been throwing looks at each other all day whenever you think the other isn’t looking. Subtlety really isn’t either of you's strong suit. “

That, (Y/N) thinks, must be absolute nonsense. Frankie’s got a girl and a baby, there’s no reason for him to sneak glances at her. Clearly he’s gotten his happily ever after already and it doesn’t involve her. Pope must be delusional. Must have a head filled with cotton candy and all things rose-colored.

“ You’re on a wedding high, my guy. There have been no looks. “

Her words are met by Pope shaking his head in frustration. “ Look, I just — just please go talk to him. This dancing around each other is very high school drama and I love you both which is why I can’t watch this going on any longer. “

“ What are you saying?”

“ That if there’s something there worth um — worth exploring, you don’t have to worry about me or my opinion on it. “

If anyone had ever told her those words would ever leave her brother’s lips, she would've called that person crazy. Not that they change anything, he’s still got a woman at home and a baby. But still — it’s nice to know that if things had worked out differently, Pope would approve.

“ Are you saying that if I wanted to date Frankie — which I don’t, but like let’s pretend I did. Hypothetically. You’d be okay with that? “

“ (Y/N), “ Pope says and his voice dips lower as his expression grows more serious “ I love both of you. I just want you guys to be happy. “

Before either of them can continue the conversation, the bride steps up beside them, throwing her arms around Pope’s middle and facing (Y/N) with a big, radiant smile on her face.

“ Sorry I had to interrupt but I needed to get away from aunt Lisa and her Corgie stories.”

“ Nah it’s okay, don’t worry I uh — I gotta go talk to someone. “

Pope smiles at her in return and a silent understanding passes between the two. Maybe the story wasn't all that hypothetical after all.

Much to (Y/N)’s delight, Frankie sits alone at the table. His suit jacket is lazily thrown over the back of the chair and the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows. This looks more like the Frankie she knows. The one she loves. Effortlessly cool and yet so undeniably charming.

Sliding onto the chair next to his, she can feel her heart speed up with anxiety. She shouldn’t feel this way around him. Underneath all the feelings, this is still her Frankie, one of her best friends, a member of her little family of misfits.

“ Hey, you. “ her words are soft, delicate, almost as if she’s afraid of saying them. And maybe she is. A little bit at least.

“ Hey, stranger. Long time no see.”

His voice is dark and soothing but there’s an edge to it, a hint of teasing.

“ Mmh. It’s been a while. “

“ Yeah, and with the way you’ve been avoiding me all day today, it makes me wonder if I did anything wrong. “

Oh god.

“ Dude, what’s it with everyone thinking I’m avoiding you? I’m not. “

“ You sure about that? “ Frankie asks and raises his eyebrow in question.

“ Yup. Just been a — a busy day. I’d never avoid you, I missed you. “

At least the last part of that statement is factual. She’s missed him terribly.

“ I missed you too “.

There’s a truth in his eyes, a grounding honesty that is so hard to come by in people. Whatever words fall from his lips they are deliberate and he means them 100%. It’s something (Y/N) has always admired and appreciated about him.

“ Sooo … I was hoping you’d bring a plus 1 today. “

“ Huh? “

“ The baby ! “

“ Oh. Oh, I think it’s way past her bedtime by now. She’s uh — she’s with her mom. “

“ Do you have a picture? “

Frankie scoffs, “ One? I got a bunch of ‘em. How much time have you got? “

As he pulls out his old battered leather wallet, (Y/N) can’t help but let a smile take over her face. It’s so fitting that he would carry the pictures around in his wallet instead of having them saved on a phone. Frankie was never the guy to get all obsessed with having the newest technological gadgets. Though he was smart as hell and good at navigating any and all electronic devices, he never felt the desire to own a smartphone himself only having caved and bought one a year ago when his old phone died on him.

“ That’s her. Just celebrated her first birthday. “

The girl in the picture is undeniably Frankie’s daughter. She’s grinning up at the camera with his exact smile only she’s missing a few teeth still. Her eyes are the same soothing shade of brown and are rimmed by the same thick black eyelashes. She’s gorgeous and something about seeing her sends a pang straight to (Y/N)’s heart. What if …

It was one thing knowing that he was a dad but actually seeing his baby and realizing that’s his new reality, it’s strange. And while (Y/N) is happy for him, a part of her has a hard time coping with that realization. What if things had worked out differently, could that have been her life too?

“ She’s adorable. “

“ Yeaaah, “ Frankie replies and shrugs his shoulder casually, “ guess I did a pretty good job there. ‘s the first time in my life. Only thing I ever did right. “

Though he tries to shake it off and veil his words with a tone of mockery, (Y/N) can see right through him. The self-depreciation has always been a point of contention to her. How he can not see how wonderful he is, how loyal and sweet and loving, is beyond her.

“ Shut up, Frankie. Except for my brother, you’re the only guy I know that would drop everything to help me paint my kitchen at 1 am on a Tuesday. You’re so sweet and funny and I have not a single doubt in my mind that you’re an amazing dad. Stop selling yourself short. “

For a moment a quiet settles upon them that is neither comfortable nor awkward. It just is. And then Frankie looks into her eyes again and the moths are back going haywire. If only her future lay in those eyes, oh how wonderful yet foolish of a thought.

“ Ah, I don’t know. Her mom doesn’t seem to think so. Left just before her first birthday. I mean — “ he sighs and takes a sip from his bottle of beer “ things between us hadn’t been good for a while and a breakup was inevitable. It’s just that I wish I could see the kid more. She’s my heart. She’s my everything. I want to be good enough for her, you know? So one day she can be like that’s my dad and he’s a pretty alright guy. Not that’s my dad, the ex-addict unemployed pilot. “

“ Frankie. That kid's gonna love you so much, now and forever. Because you love her. That’s all that matters. When you think about your childhood, do you think about your parents’ jobs? No. You think about how much they loved you and the good memories you had with them. “

Frankie stays silent for a moment, just looks at her with his big brown eyes, and then — then he smiles.

“ Can I tell you something? “

“ Always.”

“ When she was born. When the doctor let me see her and hold her for the first time. I wanted to call you. You’re the first person I wanted to talk to about her. I was so fucking terrified at that moment because she was so tiny and the world is so big and scary and I don’t know how to not fuck things up for her and how to protect her from it all. And you, when I’m with you I never felt scared, ever. You’re so good at making me feel like I can do everything and at making me forget about my own shortcomings. I wanted to call you so bad. “

“ Then why didn’t you? “

He averts his gaze for a moment, as if it’s a secret that weighs heavy on his heart. One he hasn’t told anyone before. One he isn’t sure he’s ready to share.

“ Didn’t wanna bother you. “

That’s not the truth. She can tell immediately. Frankie is a lot of things but he’s not a very good liar, at least not to the people that know him very well. Though she doesn’t push the situation any further.

“ Pffsh. Bother me …”

“ Didn’t think your boyfriend was gonna be okay with me calling you in the middle of the night. “

“ Well fuck him. “

Frankie raises his eyebrows in surprise. “ Huh “

“ Yup. “

“ Didn’t work out? “

“ Nope. “

“ Why’s that? “

Cause he isn’t you. That’s what she wants to say. That’s what rests on the tip of her tongue just waiting to be spoken. She doesn’t say it though, doesn’t have the guts. There’s an overwhelming sadness about getting your heart broken at a wedding and it’s not something she wants to experience today.

“ Just didn’t work out. Realized he wasn’t who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. “

“ So you’re not gonna be the next one inviting me to a wedding and making me wear a stupid fancy-ass suit? “

“ No way. First of all, you look hot in this suit and you know it. Second of all, nah. I feel like this isn’t in the cards for me. I want — I want a guy that I can call at 3 am to get chocolate chip pancakes at the diner and that will run through the garden sprinkler with me when it’s hot outside and that will ask me to slow dance at a wedding even though the song that’s playing is super cheesy and overplayed. Dave was sweet and he was secure but I always felt like something was missing. I loved him but we were never friends. I think that’s what I was missing. “

Their eyes meet again and a shiver runs down her spine. There’s a tension in the air so thick one could cut it with a knife. And for a moment, just a fleeting moment, one that passes in the blink of an eye, there’s the courage she’s been looking for for so long. The one that helps her push the words from the tip of her tongue and speak them. For the first time. Finally.

“ Frankie, he wasn’t y— “

“ (Y/N), Darling. It’s time for your speech. “

At that moment she wants to strangle her own mother. That courage? It’s never gonna come back. This was her one chance and it’s not gonna come back ever. Oh god, what is Frankie gonna think? What’s gonna happen to their friendship ?!

“ Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ll just. Okay yeah. I’m coming. “

She doesn’t dare even as much as glance back at Frankie. Though before she makes her way over to her seat where the mic is already waiting for her and the speech she’s so meticulously planned, she hears him call out to her.

“ (Y/N)! “

“ Hmm…? “

“ I lied. I didn’t call you when the baby was born because I thought It was extremely inappropriate to call the woman I’m in love with while the mother of my child is recovering from giving birth. “

The moths in her stomach are gone now. There are bats now. Maybe a swarm of birds. Something bigger than moths for sure. Her whole body feels like it’s on fire and simultaneously being splashed with ice-cold water. Her heart is beating faster and her hands are clammy and all she can do is stare and get lost in his eyes and his smile and this moment that seems unreal.

“ Honey? “

Her mother’s words break the spell and (Y/N) follows her to take her place at the table. The mic feels heavy in her hand though everything else feels weightless. Maybe, she thinks, this is what love should feel like. Weightless. Easy. Magical.

There’s a piece of paper in her sparkly clutch with a long and sentimental speech written on it all about love and finding your soulmate and all that stuff that, until today, she always felt like she didn’t really know anything about except for what they tell you in the lovesongs on the radio or the rom-coms on tv. And yeah maybe it’s still too early to feel like the world is an entirely different place now but those words he said, she’s been waiting for those words for over a decade. If there was ever a moment to romanticize her own life, to relish in the feeling of being loved, and to celebrate her own successes, it’s today.

The pre-written speech stays in the purse. Instead (Y/N) takes the mic and starts talking. Straight from the heart.

Across the room, her eyes meet Frankie’s and all she can do is smile, for it’s the first time in a long time where her future isn’t so scary. It’s exciting. Maybe everything else that came before was just the prologue and her story is just now about to really begin.

“ Hi. I’m (Y/N), I’m Santiago’s sister, and uh — I wanna talk to you about love. “

Weddings are hectic and busy affairs. There’s something going on at all times and it’s impossible for (Y/N) to find even a second to have a proper conversation with Frankie about — well everything. So much time had been wasted between them, on keeping their feelings locked up and trying to find the right moment. Now the moment is here and the conversation doesn’t seem so scary no more. Now the only thing that stands between them is this wedding. There are speeches then food then cake then more speeches then a picture slide-show one of the bridesmaids put together then then then. It’s never-ending and though it’s fun and (Y/N) enjoys celebrating her brother’s love, she wishes time would pass quicker right then. If only for once, time could be on their side.

Only when the newlyweds have left the venue to spend their wedding night at a fancy hotel nearby and most of the guests have cleared too, (Y/N) finally finds time to sit down and just relax for a moment. No speeches to listen to, no uncles who insist on getting one dance with her, no bride who needs help holding up her dress while she pees. Just calm and quiet and —

“ Can I have this dance? “

His hand is reaching out to her and there’s a nervous smile playing on his lips. There’s something quite intoxicating about it all now that she knows he feels the same. All the anxiety is gone and replaced with hopes and dreams of a future that now seems like it might actually happen. One that’s been a “What-if” for so long.

“ It would be my pleasure. “

Neither of them is a particularly good dancer but it doesn’t matter right then. All that matters is that they get to exist together at that moment and in their little bubble. That they get to be close and sway left and right as Eric Clapton’s “Wonderful tonight” echoes through the room.

“ That song is so cheesy and overplayed, “ (Y/N) exclaims, “ I love it. “

Frankie places a soft kiss on the top of her head and it sends her heart into overdrive. Is this what the lovers in a Jane Austen novel felt like when their hands locked for the first time, just a fleeting whisper of a touch?

It feels exhilarating and (Y/N) feels alive and like nothing is missing. Everything and everyone is right where they’re supposed to be.

“ You ever thought Pope was gonna end up actually getting married? I didn’t see that one coming to be honest. “

(Y/N) leans her cheek against his chest as they keep softly swaying to the song. A tiny content smile settles on her lips.

“ Actually, yeah. It was always part of his plan and you know him, if he sets his mind to something he usually ends up succeeding. “

Frankie nods in response. “ Talking about your brother, we had a uh — a conversation earlier.”

“ Now why in the world would you do such a thing? “ she jokes though not for a second does she lift her head off of his chest. He’s warm and soft and she can just about make out his heartbeat. This feels too comfortable to disrupt it for even a second.

“ He kinda implied that he wouldn’t mind if you and I — “

He stops, considers his words, rearranges them.

“ If we what? “

“ Started dating? That sounds wrong, that makes us sound like teenagers. “

“ You know, it’s funny because he implied something awfully similar when I talked to him earlier. “

“ Huh. weird. “

“ Ya think that maybe this, “ she says and gestures between the two of them “ is also part of his plan? “

Frankie shrugs and moves his hand to her jaw, softly stroking her cheek with his thumb.

“ He always gets what he wants, guess we can’t break the chain, huh? “

“ Guess not. “

They’re so close. So unfathomably close. His warm breath falls onto her skin and he can smell the flowery scent of her perfume. The air around them sizzles with electric anticipation.

Back when she was a kid, (Y/N) was obsessed with the Disney Cinderella movie. Everything about it felt so magical and wonderful and life held the sweet bliss of childlike wonder and innocence. And then she grew up and witnessed her heart breaking over and over again.

Now that she’s standing here, in the arms of the man she’s loved for so much longer than she can remember, she thinks that maybe the movie wasn’t all wrong. Yeah, maybe it’s an overly sugar-coated fairytale where happy endings are guaranteed and things get fixed with a song and the help of some critter sidekicks. But the underlying message of them all, the most fundamental truth of them all is that love is worth believing in even when life gives you so many chances to lose hope.

Just like the fairy godmother has said: Even miracles take a little time.

This kiss, warm and gentle and passionate, is a miracle in itself. If only for the fact that it has taken over a decade for it to finally happen. His lips meet hers and the world spins faster and slower all at once. If this was a movie, they’d probably show a montage of all their happy memories throughout their years of friendship, all the longing glances, and flirty touches. But this isn’t a movie. This is real life. She’s really dancing with him. He’s really kissing her.

She doesn’t have to imagine any of it anymore because it’s happening right here and right now and life is so much better than any movie or romance novel or cheesy pop song. They can never live up to the real thing.

Neither of them wants to pull away though eventually their lungs demand oxygen and they reluctantly detach their lips.

“ You think we should, give this thing a chance? “

Once again there he goes being so casual. As if this is not a decision that’s been in the making for such a long time now. An accumulation of years of longing and wishing and hoping and constantly missing the right moments and bottling up feelings.

“ Francisco Morales, I’ve loved you for a long ass time now. I am not letting you go anytime soon. Ain’t no getting rid of me, buddy. “

“ Good, I’m not planning on it. And I love you too, by the way.“

They seal it with a kiss and life feels like it always did only — better. Everything feels so damn right. The what-ifs are gone and in their place now stands a future worth looking forward to. One filled with adventure and happiness and love.

“ Hey, (Y/N)? “

“ Hmmm ? “

“ You wanna go get pancakes at the diner around the corner? “

“ With chocolate chips? “

Frankie scoffs “ Duh. What a question. “

There’s a lot of comfort to be found in romantic media though as they walk outside the venue, hand in hand and matching smiles on their faces, (Y/N) thinks that every once in awhile life itself makes for the best movie, the most magical moments and the greatest love stories.

#francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #catfish x you #catfish x reader #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales imagine #francisco morales imagine #catfish imagine #triple frontier imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine

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deansmyapplepie · 4 years

Text

Remembrance

Pairing: Sam Winchester x reader

Tags: Stanford!Sam, Stanford!reader, past relationship, sort of AU where Jess doesn’t exist, emotions

Word Count: 2,062

(Gif not mine)

A yawn that you couldn't quite stifle behind your hand had you squeezing your eyes shut as your jaw practically came unhinged.

"Good morning." One of your newer officers poked her head through the doorway to your office, and you looked up from your laptop.

"Morning, Mason."

"I'm gonna get coffee before I get to work," she explained. "Can I get you anything?" Coffee sounded like heaven right now. It was 8:00 now, and you had been at the station since 7:30 yesterday... morning.

"That would be amazing, thank you," you replied gratefully. "I'll just take whatever you're having with an extra shot of espresso." Mason grinned at you with a slight shake of her head.

"You got it, boss." The second she was gone, you turned back to your computer.

You were already totally swamped between budget management, staff reports, and evaluations. But now, on top of it all, four little girls had gone missing in the last week and a half. Parents were furious and frantic, and you were only barely keeping your head above water. Your officers were doing the best they could, but even you were having trouble digging up any information. Four little girls just disappeared without a trace, and you were the one that had to tell their parents that you had no idea what happened - not exactly the most reassuring thing to hear when your child has gone missing. All four had vanished from precisely the same spot in the local park, but even stakeouts revealed nothing out of the ordinary. You were making zero progress, and it felt like you were just banging your head against a wall. And the wall was solid concrete. And also on fire.

"Cap?" Again, you looked up from your computer.

"What is it, Duffy?" you asked. Duffy was one of your more experienced officers. He was a bit on the smaller side, but he could still kick ass if needed - you had seen him in action before.

"I'm sorry to bother you." You turned in your spinning chair to face him, smiling kindly as you gave him your full attention.

"It's no bother at all."

"There are a couple men from the FBI here to see you. About the disappearances." You felt your smile falter, and you let out a long sigh. Just when you thought your day couldn't get any more complicated.

"Thanks, Duff. I'll be right there." Duffy let the door shut behind him on the way out, and you took a moment to yourself, burying your face in your hands. This was going to be interesting, that was for sure. You had worked with the FBI once in the past, and it wasn't what you would call a pleasant experience.

It was about two years ago when you had first assumed your position as police captain that two FBI agents had come to investigate a local cybercrime. Rather than work with you as you had been expecting, they mostly just wanted you out of the way and didn't tell you much else. But the times they did talk to you, they were rude and downright mean. You knew they were just doing their jobs, so, of course, you kept your mouth shut, but personally, you didn't think a badge gave them the right to be assholes.

With one final deep breath, you steeled yourself and stood, walking across your office in two short strides to open the door. As long as they weren't the same agents as last time, you were going to be fine. Besides, you had more experience under your belt now.

The second you laid eyes on the two agents, though, you instantly took back everything you had just thought. You weren't sure what either of them was doing here, but you did know one thing: they sure as hell weren't FBI agents. If you had any good sense left in you (which you suspected you probably didn't), you would have arrested them right on the spot. But you couldn't.

Instead, you found yourself frozen in place - from shock or anger, you couldn't tell - forced backward in time as all of your memories played like some torturous slideshow at the speed of light before your eyes. Back to all the late nights studying in the Stanford library, as you slowly but surely fell in love with him; back to the laughter that echoed through the kitchen when he burned dinner on what was supposed to be your first date; back to all the times that he had made love to you in your shared apartment. ...And back to the time when he left without a trace, and your world collapsed in on itself. Sam Winchester.

"S-" The beginnings of his name died on your tongue when you remembered where you were, and you bit your lip hard to stop yourself from calling out. Not that it was any surprise, considering how much time had passed, but he looked much older. His hair was no longer short and mussed, with his bangs drooping into his face like you recalled. Instead, it was longer, smoother, and darker, no doubt because of age. The extra years he had to fill out his face and physique suited him. He looked far more comfortable with himself than he had ever been when you were together, and you were suddenly struck by the pang of how much had changed.

But those eyes - those beautiful greenish hazel eyes that could never make up their mind what color they wanted to be - those were still the same. And when Sam finally spotted you standing breathlessly, his eyes widened, though you couldn't decipher the emotions behind the wall he had put up.

"Agents," you called out, willing your voice not to shake. "We can speak privately in my office." You had only met Dean once: the last time you saw Sam. Judging by the way he brushed past you into your office without a second glance, he didn't even remember you. But you remembered him. Sam looked searchingly into your face as he followed his brother. You held his gaze for a brief moment before tearing yourself away, closing the door behind both of them.

Despite your better judgment, you found yourself standing in front of him, still not truly believing that he was really here.

"Y/N," he breathed, just as transfixed as you were.

"Wait, wait, wait," Dean cut in. "Y/N as in your girlfriend from college, Y/N? From fifteen years ago?" Dean's question fell on two deaf pairs of ears.

"What happened to you?" you asked. "I..." You swallowed hard. "I looked for you." Sam looked away shamefully, and you took notice in the way he was unable to meet your eyes when he answered.

"I had to deal with some family business." You had to admit, his answer surprised you. You knew Sam very well, and he was many things, but a liar just wasn't one of them. Since when did he not tell the truth?

"That does not answer my question," you pointed out irritably. "Nor does it explain why the hell you and your brother are playing dress-up as federal agents! Have you lost your damn mind?" The youngest Winchester turned to his brother for help, who merely gave a shrug as he suddenly became very interested in the blinds you had put up over one of the office windows. "You realize this can get you behind bars, right?"

"Well, what about you?" Sam asked with a not-so-subtle subject change. "You were working on law with me, not law enforcement. What happened?" Your heart stuttered sadly in your chest as you began to recount the story.

"October 31, 2005," you started, and Sam immediately grimaced. He already knew where this was going, but you didn't care. He wanted to hear what happened? Then he was going to hear it. "Dean broke into our apartment - which I still think was batshit crazy, by the way," you pointed out to which Dean gave a small nod of reluctant agreement. "You told me it was something with your dad," you continued, "and that you'd be gone for a few days - a week tops. Sam, that was the last time I saw you. It broke my heart, It almost killed me. Up until now, I never saw you again. I couldn't eat, and I couldn't sleep. I-I-" you started to stutter. You couldn't help it. "I stopped going to class." You saw the pity flood into of Dean's eyes as guilt filled Sam's. "My grades started slipping until..." You had to stop for a moment to get your emotions back under control. "I lost my full ride." Even though you felt your stomach fluttering like a leaf in a hurricane, you somehow managed to keep your voice even. "I had to go home.

“My parents were furious," you continued. "They kicked me out, told me not to come back." Sam reached for your hand to give it a gentle squeeze as he listened to your story. "So, I packed up my car and moved out here. I took a waitressing job to pay the bills; I saved up for a few years for the closest police academy. The end goal there was to become a detective, so I could find you." Dean watched the two of you carefully, almost as if he was really seeing you for the first time. "I did it." You gestured to your old detective badge, displayed proudly on the shelf behind your desk. "But then they offered me the position of sergeant, and I realized-" A small choking sound came from your throat, and you realized that your eyes had started to well. You cleared your throat, blinking furiously. "-I realized it was time to let go. So, I took the promotion. That was four years ago." The chain from the overhead fan clinked against the lightbulb as phones rang outside your office door.

Somewhat lost in thought now, you nodded to yourself and moved back to your desk, where you rifled through a dusty filing cabinet. "But I still... Aha!" Your hand emerged from the thing with a huge cream-colored manila folder, packed to the brim, and rubber-banded shut to keep its contents from spilling out. Feeling a bit subconscious, you clutched the folder tightly in your hands. "This is everything I was able to dig up, but you disappeared somewhere around 2006." Dean gave his younger brother a knowing look, which you didn't understand, but you didn't press the matter. "Turns out, you're a hard man to track down."

When Sam opened his mouth to speak, eyes swimming with emotion, you were afraid your heart might stop beating.

"Okay!" You visibly jumped as the door to your office swung open, and Mason stepped in with a cardboard to-go cup. "One extra-large cappuccino, with an extra shot of-" She suddenly seemed to notice that Sam and Dean were in the room with you, and her eyes widened apologetically. "I'm so sorry," she apologized, setting the coffee on the edge of your desk before retreating back to the door. "I didn't realize you were in the middle of something. I'll get out of your hair."

"No worries, Officer Jones," you responded with a smile. "Our visitors were just leaving." Dean's eyebrows lifted in surprise, but he didn't object. "Agent," you addressed Sam politely, noting the disappointed air surrounding him at being treated as if the two of you didn't know each other. "I believe this should aid you in your search." When you handed him the manila folder that contained all hints of your extensive search, his fingers brushed yours, just barely, and his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat.

"Thank you." You saw the remorseful glint in his eyes, and in an impossible language that you couldn't explain how you understood, you knew that what he said was entirely different from what he was actually saying to you: I’m sorry.

With that, the two men were gone from your office. You felt yourself sag a bit in relief. It wasn't until Mason touched your arm that you realized she had been speaking to you.

"Are you okay? You look pale." Again, you concealed your emotions with a smile.

"I'm perfectly all right," you lied. "Just tired."

Thank you so much for reading! <3

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buck-nialled · 4 years

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Mr. Lawyer (2) - N. Horan Imagine

thanks so much for everybody’s support on “Mr. Lawyer”! after a whopping FIVE requests for a part two were sent to me, i felt it was only right for the story to continue and (maybe?) end on a happier note ? who knows ?? guess you’ll have to read and find out. here it is, part 2 of “Mr. Lawyer”

It had been a total of one week since her fight with Niall and due to her “failure of having an established online presence” (Y/N thinks of it more as an accomplishment) she had been named “Mystery Woman” by every celebrity gossip site that acquired the photos. In her younger years, Y/N never pursued the idea of posting “candid” photos portraying some nonexistent life she had seen most people claim to have. It was never in her disposition to be in the spotlight, something which her 24-year-old self was grateful for. It helped her maintain her confidence and focus on other aspects of her personal life like her work.

Another thing she had taken for granted in her time of ignorance was the age of her boss, who was wise enough in her years to not seek out entertainment news on her television and guiltily watch it, and also take notice in how Y/N displayed herself in the office.

Her boss sought for people like her, Y/N discovered through an email her boss sent replying to the girl’s sudden ask of a week off due to “personal reasons” she would rather not explain but clued an injury in her excuse. Despite the vagueness of the plead, her boss commended her honesty and work ethic when giving her approval. Needless to say, the conversation concluded much better than the girl had imagined, and made her spirits lift somewhat. But the seven days of solitude were hard. On the first day, she woke up with her cheeks tight from dried tears and runny mascara. The swollen ankle complemented the look and also helped Y/N confirm that the night prior did indeed happen. She wasted the day on her couch with a bottle of wine, replaying the memories until they all became fuzzy and blended like that of a fever-dream one could not wake up from.

Day two was where she began questioning why it was so important for Niall to keep his identity such a secret. She remembers his answers to her that night, still. She could hear every twinge hitting his heart as he spoke his apology and gave his reasoning. Looking at all of the photos of both of them on her phone was unnecessary when her brain held every moment for her. The picture Niall took of her in a white button-down of his, panties just peeking out beneath and his mid-calf socks sagging down her ankles at she posed with one of his few very nicely made guitars. When they spent Christmas early at his house and exchanged gifts and kisses under a mistletoe, the camera on her phone caught glass-encased records Y/N never thought to mention, let alone paid any mind to.

She remembers a particular morning waking up to the sound of Niall humming a particular melody she secretly recorded solely because of how angelic the notes sounded with the water pattering against the porcelain to harmonize with it. She could not clear it from her head for the rest of the day and, upon bringing it up to him later on, Y/N recalls the shrug and innocent smile he gave when he told her he “made it up.”

By the end of the night, she was blaming herself for not seeing the signs sooner.

On the fourth day, she discovers that the photos of the debacle could not hide from everybody. Her mother called her that day to scold her, saying she had to find out what her own daughter’s boyfriend looked like through a Facebook post. When the expected questioning of why she was on the cover of a magazine at a grocery store was asked, Y/N lost all answers for herself and hung up the phone with a meek excuse to “explain later.”

The following day, her friend begins texting her incessantly with an update on why she thought Niall looked so familiar when she sent a photo to her a few days ago. At first, Y/N could only chuckle and shake her head, riposting if her friend had gotten in trouble with the law recently. Her friend sent a question mark back and went on to say she does not remember where she saw him. Now she was sending links to his music videos she happened to stumble upon that morning.

It was painful, but she watched them. She bought his album with little regret and listened to every single song, and then kept the most somber one she could find on repeat until her phone ran out of battery.

The week flew by fast, but Y/N could not say she was not thankful. She felt it was a sign of the world that her sulking was over. That morning, she felt that a regular at-home cup of coffee would not do and decided to start the week off right with her usual at the small café near her apartment. It felt like déjà vu walking through the door and hearing the small bell lightly tinkle above her. She was stood in line for five minutes, wearing a tee-shirt of another oldies band her little cousin would decree “vintage” when a tap arrived unannounced to her shoulder. She spun around, and the man behind her sent a kind smile and compliment her clothing shirt. Though the accent was still distinct, it was all too similar and had Y/N’s heart beating faster.

He was unbridled in his advances, asking what would seem like too soon to a watchful stranger if she was single. Normally, at seven in the morning on a Saturday (coffee or not), she would be firm in her stance and spew an answer out with no hesitation and regrets. But Y/N would be lying through her teeth to say that it went that way. It went quite the opposite actually and ended with Y/N stumbling over her words and managing to sputter out how her situation was “complicated.” It was so unlike her to answer even she was unsure of and left the girl asking herself in her spot if she had been sucked into a different dimension that night her love life all went to shit.

The man somehow convinced her to spare a few more minutes of her time as the two waited for their drinks after ordering. She composed her thoughts and better explained then that she had just broken it off with someone. She was going to mention that the “breaking it off” part might be temporary but was still jammed on where she stood with the situation. Hell, Niall had not made any form of contact with her since that night, so how is she to know if he is finding himself in the same place?

“I understand completely. Sorry if I was a bit forward back there, it’s just…”

“No, it is okay I get it. And if I weren’t so conflicted with things right now, I would probably say yes to date with you, but—”

Then, Y/N was floored as the man before her began to laugh. It was a combination of hysterics and a bit obnoxious in its tone, which left Y/n with furrowed eyebrows.

“Oh, no.” He held his hand up to her. “Do not get the wrong idea…”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N, I am already with somebody.” Once again, her forehead creased, and she was befuddled. “I am asking for a friend. He is kind of in the slumps at the moment because of this girl…it kind of sounds like you and him are in the same boat. I’ve been trying to see if any of my friends were up for meeting the guy and help him get over her—”

“By a one-night stand with a stranger,” She scoffs, disbelief now coating her face. “I hate to break it to you, but that is not how you mourn a relationship.” Y/N rolls her eyes and begins to pivot to see how much progress had been made on her drink.

“No, no! It is not like that at all, trust me! I just…I feel like just meeting somebody would take his mind off of it. Even if it does not go anywhere, the lad could use another friend. Especially one who understands what he is going through at the moment. And Y/N, you’re ticking every single box right now!

“What do you mean?” She spins around to face him. “As far as I know the only thing we have in common is our relationship status.”

“I happen to know he loves classic rock, specifical bands such as these.” One of his hands rise to the sleeve of your shirt and pinches the cloth, giving it a small tug.

“That all?”

“Well, you’re both pretty stubborn, too.” He murmurs. Y/N raises her eyebrows and sends a scoff in his direction. Before a biting comment could slip from you, your name was called. The man stayed nearby as you met the barista at the register for your total. As she reached for her pocket, she lets a few swears out beneath her breath from the absence of her wallet. The man notices this and swoops in immediately with his card in his hand.

“I got it—"

“No, forget about it.” Y/N interjects, turning to him. “You don’t have to do that.”

“No, I do actually.” He hands the barista his card before you could reject his offer once again. “Because you’re gonna do something for me.” He says, a satisfied smile gracing his lips as he pockets his card back into his wallet.

“Excuse me?” “Look, I’ll be having a get together at my house this weekend. Nothing big, just a few mates of mine coming over. But my friend is going to be there, so you need to come so I can introduce you.”

“Why would I agree to that?” Your hand wraps around the warm cup and brings it up to your chest.

“Because you seem like an honest gal. Someone who would return a favor and keep her word.” The compliment was sincere as far as she could tell. A few moments of silence fell between the two, and Y/N found her eyes bouncing between two-floor tiles in contemplation.

“This guy? Would…would you say he’s an honest person?” She was hesitant in her question, but the idea kept captivating her. As much as she wanted to deny it, she knew tonight would be no different than the last seven. She would still hear Niall’s laugh echoing in her head, and images of him flashing through her dreams in her sleep. None of the old methods she resorted to in college are working for her anymore.

“He’s the most truthful person I know.” Y/N looked up into the man’s gray eyes, swimming with hope. She wanted to feel like that again.

“What’s your name?”

“Lewis…Capaldi.” He answers. Y/N nods at the new information.

“Okay Lewis…” she proffers her free hand to him. “I’ll meet him. This one night only.”

“That’s all he’ll need, I swear.” Lewis exchanges his phone number with her, and without any further questions, they departed.

By the weekend, Y/N was finding herself flooded in regrets. She felt like she was betraying Niall in some way, despite no clear definition being set on their relationship since their quarrel. Tears were pricking her eyes on her drive to Lewis’s house at the thoughts of how hypocritical she was being. Not even two weeks ago had she blamed her boyfriend for not being honest and hiding from her, and here she was driving to a stranger’s house to meet a potential partner.

She knew that the information of Niall doing the same would make her ballistic with heartbreak. Even more, than she was feeling at this current point in time. Why in the world did she think this would be a good idea? She was only minutes away from Lewis’s front door when she hurriedly pulled over to the nearest gas station. Her hands were choking the steering wheel with strength so great her knuckles were becoming pale. Her heart was pacing erratically and felt uncontrollable. Screams were trying to crawl their way out of her throat, but she was determined to keep pushing them down with each nervous gulp.

She had not felt this panicked since she excused herself to the restroom at the dinner place. She remembers the counter’s hard edge left deep, red lines in her palms from how hard she was gripping them, and she had to continuously throw her head back for fifteen minutes to keep the tears balancing in her eyelids from trickling down her face.

Maintaining her breathing was difficult, and almost seemed impossible when Lewis began ringing her cellphone. Her eyes locked on the small clock on the radio. She was nearly fifteen minutes late to a get-together she promised to be present at.

She answered the call, shaky hands, and a lump in her throat. She could only hope Lewis would do most of the talking throughout the call.

“Hey, you’re still coming over right?” He sounded urgent.

“Yeah...well—actually maybe not.” Y/N squeaked out in her shaky breaths. Lewis’s “what” was demanding and gave her the feeling of a child disappointing a parent.

“It’s just—I feel so…this doesn’t seem like a good idea, Lewis. I mean, I haven’t even spoken to the guy and he probably doesn’t even know I’m coming over.”

“Of course, he doesn’t! If I told him he wouldn’t have agreed to come over. But he’s starting to cave…been trying to call this girl all night and we’ve had to check on him and keep him distracted. You need to come over, please Y/N! We made a deal! Please, just five minutes. That’s all I’m askin’ of ya.”

Y/N bit her lip, unsure of how to respond. In her haste of guilt and impulsive movements, she ended the call with Lewis and tossed her phone into the passenger seat. Her hand reached to clutch the stick and her phone began vibrating again. It was face-up, illuminating the car with a photo of Niall’s face.

Her hand reached over and declined the call.

She put the car in reverse.

The fourth ring was interrupted with the sound of a voice asking to leave a message. Niall muttered a small “fuck it.” He rose from the couch, refusing to pay attention to the football match displayed on the large television his other friends were entranced in. His figure meandered into the kitchen silently, where he found Lewis glancing down to his phone.

“Hey man, I think I’m going to head out—”

“What?” Lewis looked up from his face, observing Niall’s uninterested expression. “No, come on lad, you got to stay longer. I just…ordered pizza!” His downtrodden mood did not keep a small chuckle from leaving Niall.

“Okay…I can come next weekend for pizza. I just don’t feel well, tonight.”

“Look, lad. I know some girl broke your heart but if she turned you down then clearly she was not worth it.”

“No, she was. She still is.” Niall claims, a stern tone overcoming his voice as his blue eyes pierce into Lewis, the mild irritation in them becoming apparent. They drop a few moments later, along with his hard expression softening. “I was an idiot.”

“Okay, I know that was not right of me to say since I do not know what happened. But you just…you have to stay. Just a little longer.”

“Why? What’s so important?”

“A friend is coming over that I want you to meet.” Lewis blurts. Niall absorbs his words, and also takes in the sheepish smile adorning Lewis’s face. Niall’s hand comes up to rub over his features as a sigh leaves him.

“Why…why would you—"

“Because you two are almost exactly alike. There are so many things you have in common.”

“Well, I had a lot of things in common with Y/N too,” Niall states, growing more frustrated by the second.

“I know, but…hang on. What’s her name?”

“Y/N,” Niall repeats, his heart sinking as her name fell off his tongue again. He missed how it felt good when he said it. A light knock on the door breaks the two away from the conversation, but both men meet each other’s eyes with knowing looks.

“Great! Absolutely fuckin’ wonderful. Tell me, what is so great about this girl, huh? Does she know almost every Springsteen song by heart? Can she recite scenes from awful movies verbatim? Will she agree to go out with me for six months only to end it because I lied to her about my entire fuckin’ life because I was a selfish, judgmental bastard? Tell me, is she gonna forgive me for it? Because that’d be the only difference between her and Y/N. And I’m gonna bet right now, whoever is behind that door won’t come fuckin’ close!”

“Niall—”

“In fact, let’s go see this bird! What brilliant girl did you bring for me to shut down, tonight hmm?” Niall strolled over to the door and swung it open, to see Y/N, her mouth agape and eyes wide. Lewis lived in a safe neighborhood, with beautifully constructed houses. But Niall knows the door is not soundproof and Y/N must have heard every single word.

“You mean that?” Her nose flared, and tears brimmed her eyes. It would have been painful for Niall to witness, but the way her lips curled up and her eyes brightened when she continued to gaze at him was the only tell he needed to know they were droplets of joy falling from her eyes. All Niall could muster was a nod, still in shock that she was stood in front of him. After regaining his composure, he cleared his throat, now gravely from his previous volume level he had not planned on reaching with Lewis tonight.

“Y/N, I am so sorry. I was—”

“I love you, idiot.”

“What?” Niall’s brows furrowed at her response. And his answer came in the form of her arms locking behind his neck and drawing his head down for their lips to finally connect. He was an idiot. But if Lewis’s words were true, he was as honest as idiots come. And how could she let that go?

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charrdricnet · 4 years

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separate but equally terrible nightmares (cedric/cho/harry)

a/n: i’m doing a monologue for my acting class (over zoom lol) and the title of this fic is a line from my monologue!! some angsty fluff, fluffy angst, whatever you wanna call it. i usually don’t write on here as i have my own fanfic accounts but this didn’t feel like something i wanted to post there, so i guess you guys can have it, lol. i hope you guys enjoy!! if you do, i’d love to know, maybe i’ll write more for this ship and post it here.

Even while dreaming, things manage to go wrong for Harry.

Suddenly, doused in sleep, he becomes fourteen again, terrified and stomach turning as the tournament should be ending, but instead, he stands in a graveyard, one hand still on the cup, the other interlocked with someone else’s fingers.

He hears the shrill, weak voice cry the three words that have haunted him for years: “Kill the spare!”

He dreams of cold, lifeless skin and ghostly apparitions begging him to bring the body back. Usually, the dreams are soaked with truth—Cedric's hazel eyes stare blankly, his deep voice rings out and chills him to the bone.

Sometimes, the spare is someone else. Long black hair and warm skin, her lips parted in a final cry. Harry has no idea why she’s even here, she wasn’t a part of this, why is Cho here? But he supposes that dreams rarely bother with logic.

The worst dreams are when it’s the two of them, not always in that graveyard, but on stretchers in the great hall among the other fallen soldiers of a war that they did not sign up to fight in.

Cedric and Cho lay between bodies of fellow students, all much too young to have died, let alone in such a horrible way. And Harry finds them, their fingers still entwined, but lifelessly stiff.

The nightmares are persistent, but his soft whimpers and movement does not go unnoticed.

A strong hand grips his shoulder, whispering soothing words, voice still thick with sleep, but comforting nevertheless. On his other side, a smaller body snuggles close, stroking his hair, almond eyes not even needing to open to find him in the sheets.

It’s then that memories comfort him. Cedric had lived that day, Pettigrew’s Killing Curse narrowly missing him, but the flash of green fooled them as the teenager played dead, fear coursing through him, and a surge of protectiveness over Harry, too.

The two had returned from the graveyard when Harry ran for the cup, grabbing Cedric too, refusing to leave his body there...only for a hand to grip him back, the two of them hugging and crying in the middle of the Quidditch field, back at Hogwarts, messengers of news no one wanted to hear.

Dumbledore’s Army brought Harry and Cho close. Her and Cedric were still dating at the time, although he’d graduated, but there was still a deep connection form between the three of them.

In her dreams, Cho sees the Battle.

She sees faces frozen, faces she’s passed in the hallways for years, suddenly gone. She remembers spells flying, the shouting, the blood. She remembers dust and dirt caked on her skin, tears tracked through the grime.

She remembers searching for Cedric when the dust had settled, calling his name in the swarms of students, fearing the worst. She had already almost lost him once.

Except in her dreams, she enters the Hall, expecting to see him getting a small wound patched, and instead finding him lying beside his fellow fallen students. All of the bodies are fresh, except Cedric has already begun to decay, his eyes sunken in and his bones poking through in places.

She mutters his name in her sleep, and feels the stirring beside her, but it’s not enough to wake her. Cedric’s body opens its eyes, and reaches for her hand. She jolts up, screaming his name once more.

The lights are flicked on, and Cedric’s arms wrap around her shoulders. Harry sits beside them both, green eyes soft and sleepy, and she motions for him to join the hug, because while she’d dreamt about Cedric that night, it had been him last week.

They switch positions in the bed, putting her between her two boys, who always give her space when she needs it, and always give her love when she needs that more.

It was Cho who kissed Harry first in the Room of Requirement, and when he pulled back, telling her they couldn’t do that to Cedric, she’d chuckled, and replied: “He encouraged me to give it a shot, actually.”

It hadn’t gone anywhere at the time. It was complicated enough for her and Cedric to be together, let alone adding a third person into the mix, especially on the brink of a war.

When Cedric has nightmares, he’s in the graveyard. He lies there, still, and listens to Harry’s screams, listens to him be cut, be taunted, be on the brink of his own death. He just listens, he doesn’t do anything. And when Harry dies there, terrified and utterly alone, Cedric stays still, and doesn’t do a thing to save the younger boy he’s grown so attached to.

He takes the Cup when he finds the chance, and he leaves Harry’s body there, because if he goes for it, he’ll most likely be killed. He returns to Hogwarts, a Triwizard champion, but also the reason that The Boy Who Lived is dead, and Voldemort is back.

If he had just gone for his wand, if he had just been brave enough to help—

His eyes flutter open as he feels Harry snuggle closer in his arms, feels the tickle of messy hair beneath his chin, the warmth of his chest pressed to his. Harry is right in his arms, and Cho is lying just a few inches away, too, and her face is illuminated by the moonlight through the window.

After the Battle, the three of them were reunited. Helping to rebuild Hogwarts, making sure all the dead were remembered, being active in the Ministry.

While Harry finished his seventh year, Cho went into Quidditch training for the Tutshell Tornados, and Cedric delved into the world of broom-making, and the three of them felt a shift in their relationship. They were treading the path of more than friends, evident in the way glances lingered on lips and fingers brushing made cheeks red.

Two years after the Battle of Hogwarts, the three of them sleep side-by-side in a bed that’s definitely only meant for two people, but a bit of magic stretches it to the perfect size. They all have nightmares sometimes, more nights than not, but they also have each other, and it gets them through.

#charrdric #primary seekers #cho chang #cedric diggory #harry potter #harry x cho x cedric #cho x harry x cedric #cedric x cho x harry #harry x cedric x cho #hptriadsnet #polypotterpairs #hprarepairnet #hpshipsnet

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nikkzwrites · 3 years

Text

(They Long to Be) Close to You | Dark Fix-It Fic Series Part 2 | Chapter 5

A/N: This fic is one that I started with my OC because honestly, I personally didn’t like how season 3 ended. So I am rewriting all of Dark with my OC Annalise Dahlheim. I hope you all like it. Some things will be expanded more on just for more depth to Dark that season 3 kinda skipped over so…. yeah. This is part two of the series! You can start the full series here!

CW: Canon Typical Triggers: Smoking, Sex, Language, Drugs, Drinking, Death, Violence.

Word Count: 4.5k

[First Chapter] [Previous Chapter] [Next Chapter]

The forest was quiet as Tronte walked through to get home. This was one of the few days Claudia wasn’t with him, yet he still felt as if a presence was following him. He stopped and looked into the cave with wonder. As he stared he heard a man’s voice behind him, the voice said, “We are attracted to the dark like moths to the light.”

The Unknown stood looking at his son and spoke again, “The dark is what we’re born of, and so we return to it.” He walked closer to him and spoke, “You’ve grown Tronte.”

“Do I know you,” The teenager asked, closed off to the idea.

The Unknown shook his head, “I knew your mother, but that was long ago. You take after her. Your eyes.”

“Who are you,” Tronte demanded.

“I do not have a name,” the man explained, “I was never given one by my original mother. Some call me David though. But back then, it was me who chose what to call you.” His other ages appeared as the man held out a serpent bracelet to the boy, “It belonged to your mother.” He put it into the boy’s hand and said, “I think you should have it now.”

Tronte shook his head and said, “I’ve got to go.” Then walked away from the man.

Hannah and Egon both released a sigh after their activity. They got out of bed and started to get ready for the day. The man smiled at her and said, “I love you.”

Hannah smiled and giggled as a response to him before going back to the mirror to continue putting on her make up.

Egon smiled and bolstered up his courage to walked over to her. He pulled out a small box from his pocket while he spoke, “II don’t know if you’ll like it, but... Can I put it on you?” He slowly put the necklace on the woman and asked, “You don’t like it?”

Hannah looked down nervously and tried to explain, “No, I… I do. It’s gorgeous. I don’t know. I haven’t felt like myself all week.”

“You look pale,” Egon noted. His brain flashed back to another time he remembered seeing someone this pale, but it was years ago now. A small boy was running through the wood for what seemed like his life. Egon had tried to catch him, but the boy seemed to disappear from him before he could help the small boy. He shook his head of it and focused on the woman in front of him once again. “Maybe you should see a doctor,” he asked.

Hannah looked at him and asked, “Will you come back here?”

“I…” Egon stuttered, “I don’t know yet. It’s… It might be best for me to stay home tonight.” When he saw her dejected, he plead, “Katharina. I’m glad you decided to stay here. In Winden.” He caressed her cheek, “You’re beautiful.” He thought for a moment before walking out.

It was September 24th in 1954. Claudia sat with Ines looking at the porn magazine. Jana stood awkwardly towards the side as they laughed about the images. Claudia turned to Ines and asked, “Where did you get this?”

Ines admitted, “It was in my father’s things.” She didn’t want to admit why she was snooping there nor to the end that it had to deal with a boy who was so far away from them now. Across the ocean.

Jana spoke up and told the two, “Ines, Claudia… We’re already late.”

Ines looked up and said, “David and my father said that you don’t learn anything at school. You learn from life.”

“Why don’t they have these with men in them,” Claudia asked. She looked up at Ines and said, “A bit unfair don’t you think?”

Jana shook her head, “You’re crazy.” She was speaking to both of them, but she really didn’t want to call out her best friend about how she regarded that boy who left for America leaving all of them behind.

Ines looked between the two girls and asked, “Have you ever seen one? One that’s not your father’s.”

“Ines,” Jana exclaimed.

Claudia giggled, “Jana. Come on.” She looked towards Ines and nodded after rolling her eyes.

Ines’ eyes widened and she asked, “What did it look like?”

“A bit odd,” Claudia admitted, “Like it wasn’t a part of him.”

Ines smiled and questioned, “Tronte?” When Claudia confirmed with a small nod, the girl spied her best friend looking disappointed. Ines’ smile faded and she said, “I think he’s kind of weird. Has his mother returned?” When Claudia shook her head, Ines continued, “Strange, don’t you think? To just vanish like that.”

At the police station, Doris sat at her husband’s desk. Egon blinked in surprise, “Doris, what are you doing here?” He felt as if he had this conversation before… like he could almost predict what she was going to say next.

“I wanted to talk. And Kahnwald let me in here,” she explained, “Where have you been? I thought you left early to write reports.”

Egon stuttered, “It’s...uh… Well… There’s something that came up.”

“Today, I was washing clothes and I found something.” She walked over to her purse and grabbed a handkerchief, “It was in her blouses. I thought it could be important.” As Egon stared at the cloth in his hand with the initials HT on them, he looked at her picture. Doris continued, “She said her husband was with the church and it may be a coincidence, but the minister who disappeared at the same time… His name is Hanno Tauber.” She slapped down a newspaper article clipping and pointed at it.

There was a picture with Hanno and David staring at him. Seeing the boy, it made his heart ache. He squinted, he felt as though he knew him from somewhere, but from a long time ago, maybe in another life. He heard a very distant voice saying, “Hey dad, Clauds and I are going out to a movie. I’ll walk everyone home. I promise,” and several different, “I love you”s, to suddenly, “I hate you! You’re not my real dad!” Egon shook his head. He finally read the title reading, ‘Winden welcomes its new minister Hanno Tauber (42) from Vechta to take over for Amt von Sigurd Molch (74).’

Egon looked up at her and commented, “I thought her husband was dead.”

Doris shrugged and shook her head, “It’s been three months now. You don’t just leave your child alone without saying a word.”

Egon turned the paper over and looked at Doris, “You should go home. We’ll take care of it.”

Doris stood up and snapped, “Egon, I know something’s going on here! Why would she have left all this behind?!” She shook her head. She felt as if they had this argument before. This all felt like a weird case of deja vu.

Egon sat back and asked, “Who knows what goes on inside a woman’s head?” Seeing his wife huff at him and leave, Egon stood up and called after her, “Doris!” He shook his head and sighed before going back to look at Agnes’ missing poster.

Agnes stared at the swirling blob. The God particle in front of her and Adam. The man turned and spoke to her, “Agnes, you have chosen the correct side. Don’t forget that.” He handed her a newspaper clipping of a sketch of Claudia in the woods and said, “You must give this to Claudia. When it’s time.” When Agnes nodded, Adam spoke to her, “To live is a gift for those who know how to use it.”

Agnes looked at him and asked, “You’ll tell Martha then? What the origin really is?”

Adam turned and stared at the God particle.

Martha shot awake. She gasped for air. Beside her was an older man. She didn’t recognize him until he spoke.

“After all these years I’ve wondered,” Magnus spoke, “why you abandoned us in 1888. Why you gave us the material to create it… and then just disappeared.” He watched as tears streamed down the girl who shared his sister’s face cheeks. “Who would’ve thought 33 years later that it would be us who gave you the order…”

Martha shook her head, “Magnus…I’m so sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” the man told her. He stood and walked a bit away from her, “Adam is waiting for us.”

Back in the other world, it was November 6, 2052. The older Martha spoke, “This is your future.” She watched as her younger self stared at all the scribbling on the walls, “Thirty-Three years from your yesterday.”

Martha shook her head, “That door in the cave...What was that?”

“It is a path that connects the past and future,” she explained.

The young Martha saw several of her family’s names crossed out. She turned and asked, “Why are these names crossed out?”

“That means they will die,” Older Martha explained, “All of them.”

Martha turned to look to see if she could find any more names. She turned back and asked, “what does ‘all’ mean?”

“In two days,” the older woman explained, “The apocalypse in his world. It also happens in ours.”

“This is not real,” Martha concluded. She panted trying to suppress the anxiety attack growing within her, “You’re not real.”

The older Martha shook her head, “This is your future. If you… If both of you fail to stop the apocalypse.”

“You are new to Winden,” the doctor called Hannah.

The woman nodded, “Three months, yes. I like it here. It’s less complicated than where I come from.” She approached as she finished tying her belt on her dress.

The man spoke, “Well that may be about to change.” He looked up from his microscope and spoke, “You’re pregnant. At your age, a pregnancy is not without its risks. You should take care of yourself. No strenuous activity.”

“That can’t be right.”

The doctor lit his cigarette and took a long drag before speaking again, “Listen, some gifts come into our lives unexpectedly. And yet they are still gifts.”

Egon looked at his family picture and lifted it up. As he caressed the image, the emptiness of someone missing filled him more. He heard himself in his head speaking to someone in a soft voice he often reserved for Claudia saying, “Isn’t she beautiful? That’s your little sister now. You have to protect her and be a good older brother, okay?” He tried to focus on it. His eyes squeezed shut as his mind reached for that elusive memory that just escaped him. He looked back at the picture of only him, Doris, and Claudia. Soon, the door opened.

Greta walked into the officer’s office and sat. She stared at him intently as if waiting for something.

Egon put the picture away and stared back at her for a moment. “How can I help you,” he asked her.

“I would like to know if any news has come in.”

“Sadly,” Egon shook his head, “Sadly no. Unless Helge decides to tell us where he was… That is… who he was with, we’re not going to get anywhere with this.”

Greta shook her head, “This isn’t about Helge.” When Egon looked at the woman confused, she continued, “This is about the missing minister. If no one looks after the church, it leaves the door open for the devil.”

“You knew the man,” Egon questioned, “The minister?” He paused and asked, “Have you ever seen him in company with a woman?”

Greta bared her teeth at him and shook her head in disdain, “How dare you ask that? I want you to find the man. Hanno Tauber.”

The church bell tolled as Doris walked into the church.

A woman sat next to a young boy. Across from them sat a younger girl and an old man. They all turned to her as the middle aged man in the middle of the church turned towards the interrupting woman.

“Are you the new minister,” Doris asked the man trying to ignore the eerie people all sitting together.

“I used to be,” The Unknown spoke, “But that was long ago.”

Doris stuttered and walked towards him, “The thing is, I’m looking for someone. Um… My husband and I are… Our daughter is very talented. Last winter, we sublet the guest room. So we could save up money for Claudia for when she goes to college. The lady who lived with us… Well… she vanished, three months ago. Her husband was a man of God. She said her husband was dead, but, I don’t know why…. I just felt like that wasn’t true. And… the man who worked here vanished at the same time...along with a boy he kept a few months earlier… so… What if he was her husband, and she went back to him?I don’t think she liked him very much.”

The Unknown spoke to her, “Not all human bonds are the result of fondness.”

Doris shook her head, “Well, it’s about the child… I mean… it’s about her boy and… I think a boy needs his mother.”

“Each lie we tell,” the man spoke, “comes at the cost of the human soul.”

“I don’t understand,” she took a step back from him.

“You are not interested in the boy,” the man spoke, “You’re interested in the woman.”

Doris shook her head, “I don’t think you understood what I--”

“The ways of the heart cannot be explained,” The Unknown interrupted her. The rest of his presence surrounded her, “It wants what it wants. Just ask your husband. He’ll tell you the same thing.”

Doris swallowed. She didn’t think she heard the man right. She blinked and asked the man, “My husband?”

“Haven’t you asked yourself why he’s been leaving the house so early,” the man asked, “and working so late? What if there’s another woman there?” The men enclosed on her more, “It’s difficult for us to let go of our deepest desires inside.

Doris swallowed and backed away. She hurried out of the church.

Young Jana walked through the woods alone. She thought to herself how much Ines was changing to become more like Claudia. It annoyed her. She kicked the leaves as she walked. Crows cawed overhead. She turned her head hearing the sound to see Tronte sitting by himself on a log near the lake. She looked around before walking towards him. “Hello Tronte,” she greeted him.

Tronte looked up from the bracelet of the snake in his hands. He sighed deeply as he thought about his options for a second before settling on just greeting the girl as well.

Jana slowly approached and sat next to the boy. She watched as he intently looked at a bracelet in his hands. Curious, she asked, “What’s that? It’s beautiful.”

Tronte looked at her for a moment then put the bracelet in his pocket. He didn’t respond to her.

“Why weren’t you in school today,” Jana asked, changing the subject hoping to get him talking, “What are you doing here?”

“I like it here,” Tronte shrugged, “It’s so… desolate.” When Jana turned her face away from him after that comment, he tried to lighten the mood. “I like to write, you know,” he smiled at the girl, “Stories.”

Jana giggled.

“You have a nice smile,” he commented. He looked out to the lake again.

Back at the police station, Hannah walked into Egon’s office. Egon jumped seeing her. He rushed towards her whispering, “What are you doing here?” He locked the door behind her and in a hushed tone spoke once more, “You can’t just show up here. What if someone sees you?” When she was quiet, Egon paused then asked, “Are you alright?”

“I’m pregnant,” Hannah broke the news to him.

Martha stared at the supposed older version of herself.

“You can change it,” the older Martha spoke, “You both can change it. The barrels at the nuclear plant. They start the apocalypse.” Jonas leaned against the far wall listening to everything that was happening as she continued, “You must prevent them from being opened.”

Jonas pushed himself away from the wall and asked, “What do we do then?” He wanted nothing more than to stop this… to save his world and his Annalise… even if it meant he wouldn’t be able to exist, “Eve said there’s a way to undo this knot. There’s a way to let everyone live. To let my love live!”

Older Martha stood and spoke, “She lied to you. There is no way to save both worlds. You must choose one of them. The apocalypse is in two days. It can be stopped here. You both have to stop it. They can live. All of them. Mikkel can live. Isn’t that what you wanted? But you have to let her go. Your Annalise… Your world. You’ve seen what becomes of you there. What you’ll do there. What Adam will do. What you continually do through each cycle.”

The younger Martha stood up hyperventilating. She took a breath and spoke, “Both of you lost it.” She wiped her tears trying to get over her heartbreak about hearing Annalise’s name over and over again while thinking she knew exactly what, who, the other girl was doing. She spat, “I’ll go to the house and wake up in my bed and realize this was all just a shitty dream.” She stopped herself from saying that Annalise would be tangled up with her. She stormed out the bunker.

Jonas blinked and chased her down, “Wait.”

The older Martha spoke to him stopping him for a moment, “Jonas, this is exactly what you wanted originally. You and Martha. In this world, the two of you can work.”

Jonas glared and shook his head before chasing after the girl, “Martha!”

Martha tried to run up the sand dune desperate to get away from all of this. She looked up at him and yelled, “Do you believe all of this? That they’re all doomed?” Martha started to cry, “That’s crazy. I’m crazy… That’s...”

Jonas looked down at her in pity. He felt a kin to her in that moment. His heart ached for the poor girl. He sat down next to her, “Trust me… I know exactly what it feels like.”

“It’s all true,” she pleaded. She wished, hoped, it wasn’t. She asked again, “All the things she said are real?” She didn’t want it to be true. She wanted Annalise. She needed her with her always. Annalise couldn’t, wouldn’t, betray her like this.

Jonas nodded, “But I know there’s a way. A way to make all of this right again.” He was comforting her, but really, he was trying to comfort the past him. The him that had felt that feeling before. The him that was his own past. He earnestly promised, “And I want to continue looking for that way. I think she does too. The Martha that brought me here.”

The young Martha looked at him desperately believing every word he said.

In the other world, Martha stared as every person started to wish the other one goodbye to start the next part of the cycle. She stared at the particle as Agnes went through to do her duty.

Jonas and Martha walked towards the cave. Jonas led the way with Martha following him.

The older Martha stoob back after putting up the chalk that she correctly did her job. The Unknown… her son was going to be conceived today.

Hannah walked towards a door and spoke to the young girl who answered it. She said, “I...I’m here to see Mrs. Obendorf.”

The girl stood back and allowed her into the waiting room. She looked at the woman and spoke, “You must wait.” She went and sat down herself.

Hannah sat on the other wall of the hallway outside the woman’s office.

“My mother says,” the girl spoke, “they’ll be in hell. The ones… the ones that are gotten rid of.”

“I don’t believe in hell,” Hannah spoke quickly, “Hell’s what we make for ourselves here.”

The girl debated with herself for a second before speaking again, “I’m Helene. Helene Albers.” She held her hand out to the older woman.

Hannah looked upon her. She took her hand knowing exactly who this was now and what, who, was inside this poor girl, “Katharina.” Hannah knew for once, she was going to do a good thing.

“That’s such a nice name,” Helene smiled.

Hannah laughed.

Ms. Obendorf called for the girl inside.

Hannah stood and gave the girl a small gift of money on her coat before leaving, deciding against the horrid idea of getting rid of the baby.

Claudia walked inside the Tiedemann house, “Hello Papa.”

Egon sat at the table drinking his sorrows away.

Claudia blinked, “Where’s Momma?”

Egon sighed, “The ways of the heart cannot be explained. It wants what it wants.”

Claudia looked towards Tronte looking for comfort. The boy looked back at her with a shrug as Egon took another shot.

Tronte took the initiative, “Come on.” He coaxed Claudia to follow him, “Let him be.”

Claudia looked at the boy and saw in her mind's eye, another boy. One older than Tronte… One she hadn’t seen for a year. She could almost hear his voice comforting her. She turned to look at Egon trying to figure everything out before following Tronte up the stairs.

Egon sat with only his thoughts and a drink.

Adam stared at the picture of his son. He sighed as he looked back at the particle.

Martha walked in and said, “You made me a promise. I’ve kept up my end of the deal. Now you have to keep up yours.”

Adam turned and smiled at her, “You want to know where the origin is and how you might destroy it. You will do it.” He turned back to the swirling muck with a sigh. He spoke again and said, “It took me 66 years before I finally understood… how everything is bound together.” He looked at her once again and chuckled, “you’re right. It’s time you understood, too.”

Martha walked into her room with Jonas following behind her. She looked around. Everything reminded her of Annalise. Everything reminded her of just how broken and unloved she was. “At school,” she whispered walking over to him, “At the door you came in… I got this feeling...It was as if we knew each other.” She panted trying not to cry, “From a dream.”

“I’m sorry,” Jonas spoke, “For everything.” He felt his own self tearing up. This room reminded him so much of his own. He knew exactly how she felt. The teenager finally understood how Annalise felt for him. He walked closer to her and studied her. He wanted nothing more than to make her feel loved and like she wasn’t alone… even if it were just because he wished in his world Annalise would continue doing the same for him.

“In your world…” Martha asked, “What was I like?” She wanted to know if she felt just as broken there. If there was any hope for her to not be so desperately in love with someone who would never love her back. “Was I different,” she pleaded.

Jonas carefully wiped her tears away not answering the question. Not really knowing how to answer. As he wiped away her tears, she kissed him. Jonas allowed himself to give in. He allowed himself to think about the love back in his world and how much he missed her. How much he loved her.

The Unknown sat staring at the book he stole. He opened it up and started to finish writing it. He closed it up.

Hannah stood and took the time machine with her as she left.

Martha continued the passion with the boy. She just wanted to feel loved. She wanted to forget about the girl she loved who was screwing her ex who’s mother died causing them to break up. She groaned against Jonas’ affections knowing his mind was elsewhere too, but craving the feeling of feeling cherished. Someone’s one and only thing.

Egon sat at the table drinking away his sorrows. He looked at the table around him and saw the boy from the newspaper laughing and showing Doris something. Doris sitting across from him and Claudia sitting next to him smiling watching as the boy went on and on about some story he was telling.

Doris took out Agnes’ jacket and cried into it. Allowing herself to feel all the emotions.

Jonas refused to look at the girl he was allowing himself to be intimate with. He just wanted to pretend that it was who he wanted under him. He tried to push out of his head that his own was dead and all the while Eve's world her was probably being fucked by a mirror of his best friend. He growled as he tried to just focus on his fantasy.

Tronte sat alone in his room. He raised up his pajama shirt to look at his scars as Claudia snuck into his room.

Claudia undressed in front of the boy.

Jana layed in bed caressing the bracelet Tronte had given her. Thinking about what he must be doing tonight and if he was thinking of her as well.

Bartosz turned over to smile at Annalise. He moved some of the hair from her face gently. He looked at her fully clothed and sleeping peacefully. His heart was so full of love. He wanted to wait until the perfect moment for them to come together as one. Bartosz could feel it in his chest. He would never love anyone quite like he loved the girl asleep safe and sound next to him.

Adam walked into his old home. He looked around while Martha followed him.

“Why are we here,” She asked the man.

“Because here is where everything began,” He spoke as he looked at a picture of Bartosz, Martha, and the younger him on his desk. “In your world.”

Martha walked up to him and sneered, “What are you saying?”

Adam walked to her and pulled out the book. He handed it to her and said, “your older self, she sent you and Jonas back for a single purpose.”

Martha started to cry as she made the realization of what was going on. Her entire inner thoughts. Her inward sins. They created this.

“You were never supposed to stop the apocalypse,” Adam spoke, drilling the point home, “You were to create the seed.”

Martha panted. She glared at him angry.

Adam walked over to her and put her hand over her womb, “This is the origin. What’s going on inside you is the bridge between both worlds.”

“No, you’re wrong,” Martha sneered.

Adam shrugged, “It is the beginning of the knot. And eventually also its end.” He let go of her hand and spoke, “Your son. He is the origin.”

The Unknown walked to the family tree and looked up at the faces of Adam and Eve when he heard a voice behind him call, “David!”

#yesterday once more fanfic #(they long to be) close to you fanfic #dark fanfic #dark fanfiction #dark (netflix) fanfic

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the-awkward-outlaw · 4 years

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Bonjour ! How are you doing ? I've read you're depressed, I've been through it too, feel free to talk to me whenever you want ! Since you're my favourite writer, I've got an imagine request for you ! Imagine Leviticus Cornwall's young wife has been kidnapped by the gang. She's a classy british girl and she is very pretty, but she is not arrogant and is friendly with the gang. Arthur and her fall in love but Dutch want a ransom and doesn't want her to stay. You can choose the ending.Thank you :D

Awe thanks friend! My depression is luckily on the down low and I am in therapy to learn how to control it, but it’s awesome to hear that we support each other. If you need to talk, I’m here as well!

Sorry it took so long to do this one. Honestly this request could have turned into a multi-chapter fic! That being the case, it’s really long (only 20 pages lol). Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

(Author’s note: Arthur doesn’t have TB in this scenario)

Word count: ~10,500

You look over at your husband across the breakfast table with disgust. Although it’s a rather rare occurrence for him to join you for your morning meal because his schedule is so full, you’d rather he never did. Of course, you’ve no say in any of this. You’re just his wife, his property. He’s made it clear more than once that he’s no interest in your feelings, your hopes and dreams.

You’d grown up in London. Your father was and still is the owner of a prominent bank. When you were in your late teens, your father and mother decided to move to New York and start a new bank there. Your father saw the ocean of opportunity there. New York was a fast-growing city, and although it didn’t have the wealthy history of London, it had new sources of money that had yet to be tapped. Your father raved about the correctness people used when they called the area New England, for it was like it in many ways but so many of the people were “new money” and your father loved it. Within only a few years, your father’s new bank in New York took off so well he even built another one in Boston, which was where he decided to permanently locate you, your mother and younger brother.

When you first arrived in America, you knew very little about the country and certainly nothing about the American West. The little you had learned about the country was mostly in regards to the Revolutionary War a little over a hundred years ago. How the Americans had basically won against the British with little more than varmint rifles and their unique strategies of outsmarting their rivals. You learned in school that thirty years ago America suffered a Civil War, something to do with slavery. You had no idea though that many of the states had wanted to become their own separate country.

Your mother was aware that your knowledge of America was flimsy at best. Hers was the same way, so she encouraged you and your brother to go and learn about the history of America in order to appear knowledgeable about it despite being a foreigner. However, she wouldn’t let you study at Boston’s library. She insisted that, coming from a wealthy family, you should read from the University’s library and study with their tutors. Only common folk went to the public library, although you thought it would be a wonderful source to observe American culture firsthand. Per her wishes, you went to the University’s library with your brother, but you didn’t like it much. You felt that its books would have been no better than the library’s and the tutors were so stuck up and over-educated, it made you miserable.

In London, you were constantly surrounded by the wealthier folk since they were the only ones your parents would let you be around as a child. When you moved to Boston though, you were old enough to disobey them and mix in with a different crowd. You found yourself enjoying the company of the middle class. They were not concerned with manners and etiquette. Many of them had a sense of humor you enjoyed and because they were not so caught up in their wealth, they had a sense of community the wealthier folk lacked. They cared about each other. That was something so unique to you that you absolutely loved. It made you openly disobey your mother and you went to learn about America in Boston’s library. They offered tutors as well, and they were friendlier and had a richer knowledge in basic history, not just the history in politics and the prestigious like the University’s tutors had. Some of the tutors had even been involved in some of the events you studied up on. One was a former doctor during the Civil War and he told you some awful yet intriguing stories about it.

As you learned about America, you found yourself divulging into the American West. Of course you’d heard and learned a little about it as a child, the hot deserts with their cacti and the cowboys. However, as you learned about it now, you realized your previous knowledge had been minimal. You knew nothing of the true wildness of it. The outlaws, the sheriffs that were just as tainted as the criminals they sought. The tough ranchers who fought wars against wolves. The heartbreaking histories of the Natives that had lived and been treated like less than vermin by the settlers. The Mexicans who came and brought pieces of their own rich culture. It fascinated you. You’ve known nothing but civility and the West sounded like the opposite of it. Of course, you read a little about the wild gangs that flourished there and had no interest in experiencing them firsthand or even from a distance.

Your husband wipes his mustache and beard with a napkin and stands up without looking at you. His servant Bradley comes forward, holding a book open for him to read. You know this book very well. It contains your husband’s daily schedules. You have one as well. You’re used to living by a tight schedule, having done it most of your life. Your husband studies it for a moment and then says something to Bradley. You don’t hear it, not that you care. Without a glance in your direction, your husband turns to leave when the butler, Mr. Blomsbury comes in.

“Mr. Cornwall, the mayor of Saint Denis is on the phone for you.”

“About time that wretch finally returns my calls,” Leviticus says. “I’ve been needing to discuss matters with him for far too long. He’s an idiot and I’m a fool for ever getting into business with him.”

He leaves the room, followed by Blomsbury and Bradley. You sigh and finish your meal, your servant Marie comes forward to clean your plate. “Mrs. Cornwall, you have an appointment with your tailor in an hour. He is expecting you in the…”

“Yes, Marie, I am aware of this,” you say kindly. “Please make sure the room is ready to receive him.”

She curtsies and heads off. You dismiss the rest of the staff to do their other chores and head off to your own personal library to read a bit before the tailor arrives. You don’t want to go to this pointless party you’re being dressed for, but you’ve little choice in the matter.

On your way to the library, you bump into Leviticus Cornwall. Your miserable husband. You apologize for bumping into him as you know it’s the last thing he will do.

“Y/N, make sure you actually choose a flattering color to wear this time. That purple you wore to the last event washed you out. I had many people ask me if you were ill.”

“You were the one who told me to wear purple, Leviticus. You wanted us to match, remember?”

He ignores your remark. “Just pick something that actually looks good on you, Y/N.” He continues on down the hall to his study.

You sigh. How you hate him. Being born with a silver spoon in hand, you thought your entire childhood you’d be able to afford the luxury of finding someone you loved to marry. In your early twenties, your father and mother took that opportunity completely out of your hands. All the other women your age they knew were already married and some were even mothers. Your father was at least generous enough to want to find you a husband who was wealthy enough to let you live comfortably the rest of your life. Soon after, Leviticus Cornwall became a client of your father’s. They talked much and your father found out that Leviticus was a widower. His wife had passed away some years ago from complications during her first childbirth. The baby hadn’t survived either. It was arranged shortly after your father met him that you two should at least become engaged.

You were not happy when you found out. You’d recently met a young man at the library you were rather fond of. You knew your father would never accept him, he came from a middle class family. But he was your age, funny, attractive and very sweet. Just before you’d gotten the nerve to ask him out on a date, your father told you about your arrangements with Leviticus Cornwall. The man himself had been present when your father told you this, for Leviticus wanted to make sure you were at least pretty enough to be his fiance. When he saw you, he didn’t smile but he nodded approvingly.

“She will do,” he said after circling you and assessing your body. “You didn’t tell me she was so young.”

“I have no control of her age, Mr. Cornwall,” your father replied.

“No I suppose not,” Leviticus answered. “Still. You are lucky that I am a busy man and have no time nor patience to care for the opinions of others when it comes to my lifestyle. I hope she does not either, for some will think it inappropriate a man my age have a wife so young. A mistress, sure, but not a wife.”

“Of course, Mr. Cornwall. But she will make a wonderful wife,” your mother assured him. “She’s smart, she went to the best girls’ school in London. She also has many skills, she learned to paint and sing from a young age. She’s also finely accustomed to riding a horse. Properly of course, not that uncivilized way some women choose to ride with a leg on either side.”

Your mother was really selling you to him. Of course, you had learned how to do these things, but it didn’t mean you liked them. As far as riding side-saddle went, you detested it. There was little that was more painful than doing it that way, but of course you’d never ridden the way men did.

After much discussion, mostly on the matters of your dowry, it was settled. You were to be married to this man whom you barely knew. Three months later, you became his wife, despite him still being mostly a stranger to you. He’d had so little availability during your engagement he rarely visited and when he did, all he talked of was the things he had to do, his businesses and the problems that came with them. How he was interested in buying stakes in certain companies or outright buying them altogether.

When Leviticus became your husband, you moved with him down to Pennsylvania. He had the largest estate of any person you’d ever known. His mansion sat on over a hundred acres, some of them finely manicured but most used for livestock or farming. His stables themselves were huge and he even had an indoor riding arena, a rare thing to see. Leviticus bred horses on the side, although he did little of the business himself.

You head off now to the parlor where you are meeting the tailor. After over an hour of measuring and discussing styles, you finally give the tailor the final order on your dress and head out of the room. Marie meets you in the hall and holds open your schedule.

“Mrs. Cornwall, Mr. Cornwall has just received urgent news from New Hanover. His train traveling through Ambarino has just been robbed.”

“Well, good for him,” you say, growing tired of hearing about nothing but your husband’s affairs. “I have other things to attend to.”

“Actually, that’s just it, ma’am. Mr. Cornwall will be travelling later this evening to New Hanover in order to speak with the investigators. As he will be travelling, you are to accompany him.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Of course he wants you to go with him. It’s not because he loves you, hell you’re just another possession of his. You’ll be there strictly for appearances. Marie does not wait for you to respond.

“Your things are already being packed, Mrs. Cornwall. Be ready to leave by this afternoon.” Without another word, she leaves.

You’ve had enough of this. Over the past few weeks, you’ve caught yourself fantasizing about a simpler life, one without schedules and a loveless marriage. One that doesn’t mean you’re surrounded by money but by opportunity. People won’t tell you where to go, how to dress, walk or talk. One where you’d be allowed to just be you. All your life, you’ve been told how to act, how to be. But before you got married and were still studying in the public library, you had all those friends who your father called “common folk”. Although they had undeniably less money, they were happy. Happier than your parents, happier than your husband surely. They were free to go where they wanted and be who they were. You’ve never had that luxury.

Not only that, you don’t want to go with Leviticus on another boring trip to investigate nonsense with his business. What does it matter if his train got robbed? The criminals likely only took a few thousand dollars and Leviticus had enough to buy a small country if he wanted. Still, you know that if he lets this slide, he’ll feel he’s made himself a target and a fool. As you know, he is all about appearances. You come to the decision to talk to him about you staying here.

You find Leviticus in his study, going over some papers. Bradley stands attentive before him as Leviticus murmurs things about his train being robbed.

“Mr. Cornwall,” you say as you rarely address him by his first name.

“Not now, Y/N, I have something more important to see to.”

“Mr. Cornwall, I want to talk to you about tonight,” you say, sounding more bold than you feel.

He throws down the papers and glares at you. “What? What could you possibly want? Did you not hear that I have just been robbed?”

You stare right back at him. “I heard, but I don’t know why you’re making such a big ordeal of it. They couldn’t have taken more than a few thousand dollars. Do you not take more than that on a daily basis from the people who work for you?”

His eyes darken. “I will not be told how to run my business by my own damn wife. Bradley, get out.”

Bradley bows and leaves, shutting the door behind him. Leviticus stomps up towards you, his teeth bared. You stand your ground. He simply puts his face inches from yours and breathes hard, clearly trying to intimidate you. After a moment, he takes a step back.

“Now go get ready. I want to leave in an hour or two.”

“I am not coming with you, Leviticus. You can deal with things on your own. Hell, I’ll just be shut up in some damp and poor excuse for a manor anyways. It’s not like you need me there to impress a governor. You’re simply overseeing an investigation of your own affairs.”

Without warning, Leviticus turns and slaps you hard. You flinch and cup your cheek. Of course, this wasn’t unexpected. He’s hit you several times before, but most of the time he’s been decent enough to put your bruises in places others won’t see.

“I said you’re coming with me and that isn’t changing just because you don’t feel like it,” he hisses.

You lower your hand and glare at him again. “No I’m not, Leviticus. It’s completely pointless for me to go with you. You can’t make me-”

He slaps you again and this time you feel your lip burn. Pulling your hand away, you see a spot of blood on your finger.

“Don’t make me hurt you,” he snarls.

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that,” you say, your eyes watering from the stinging of your face. He raises his hand again but does not swing.

“If you think what you feel now is pain, you’re in for a surprise, Y/N. Now go get ready. I won’t tell you again. I’ll drag you out to the carriage by your ears if you don’t come willingly.”

You take his threat seriously. His servants will not hesitate to force you into his carriage, they’re just as frightened of him as you are. Everything in his life he rules over with an iron fist. His eyes flash as you stand there and you quickly dart out of the room, knowing that to stay means further abuse.

When you arrive in your dressing room, Marie applies a powder to your face to hide the red welt rising on your face. She says nothing to comfort you though and then she helps you into a dress suitable for travelling in. When you’re done, you dismiss her, claiming you need some time alone. She curtsies and leaves, closing the door.

You’re done with this. This life, this marriage. You want no part of it. Of course, your parents aren’t a help. They’re the ones who arranged this marriage for you in the first place. You’re going to escape though, and this trip is the perfect opportunity. You know there will be ample opportunities to escape, after all your staff aren’t that tough. They simply take care of you, not act as a guard.

Quickly, you grab a bag and stuff several items of jewelry into it, knowing you can trade them for money. You won’t go east or north towards Boston or New York. When Leviticus discovers you’ve gone, he will search for you and those directions will be the first place he looks since they’re the only places you’ve been. You’ll head west. Maybe you’ll act as a house maid or something of the likes, except you’ve no workable skills. You’ll work out those details later. Right now you focus on your escape and how you’ll be able to afford living on your own.

You head into your large closet and grab a small black box behind a rack of overcoats. In it is stored a few thousand dollars Leviticus always keeps in case of emergency. You swiftly empty it, stuffing the bills into your bag. Then you tuck the bag under the skirt of your dress. With a belt, you secure it around your waist where no one will notice its presence.

A few moments later, Marie enters the room again. “Mrs. Cornwall, the coach is ready. Mr. Cornwall reminds you that you are obligated to accompany him.”

You nod and grab your gloves, slipping them onto your arms and following her out. Once outside, you hold your head high and Stanley, your coachman, offers his hand to help you inside it. Once you’re settled, you wait a few minutes before Leviticus joins you. You ignore each other as the coach moves.

You’re taken to the train station where you ride inside Leviticus’s personal car and head down to Annesburg. There, Leviticus puts you on another coach but does not accompany you as he wants to discuss buying a stake in the Annesburg mine. You don’t care, of course. Soon his business won’t be any concern of yours.

The coach leaves Annesburg and heads west in New Hanover. Stanley explains you’re to stay in a small manor near the border of West Elizabeth. The coach travels further away from Annesburg.

The sun is setting and the coach travels along long grassy plains. Deer dash away from the trail at the sight of your coach. The coach travels over some tracks and then comes to a halt. The driver explains the horses need to rest and feed. Stanley gets out of the coach in order to stretch his legs. You wait for a moment, knowing he’s going several yards away in order to smoke. The driver of the coach is not paying you any attention either as he fiddles with the feed sacks, attaching them over the horses noses.

Now is your chance. You swiftly look around for anyone who might be watching, but no one’s around. Two men are playing dominoes on the train platform but they don’t even glance your way. A train rumbles up and then stops, preparing to take on passengers. As quickly as you can manage with your heavy gown, you dash out of the carriage and onto the train, not bothering to buy a ticket. Just as quickly, you settle into a seat on one of the finer cars, knowing that you look the part of someone who belongs there. You fidget with your hands, afraid someone spotted you. You keep a close eye on the driver of the coach and Stanley, who’s still smoking. Before either of them even start looking towards the carriage, the train’s whistle blows and begins to move.

You breathe a sigh of relief as the station disappears behind you and you check again that your bag of stolen money and jewels is still attached to you. You’ll get off at the first station, knowing that a ticketmaster is likely to come around and see everyone aboard has paid. Almost on queue, he comes into your car and starts making his way around. When he gets to you, you slip a ring with a large ruby on it in order to bribe him. He nods and goes on his way. You realize you should have asked him that he’d never seen you on this train, but he’s gone at this point. Oh well, he likely won’t remember your face anyways.

The train chugs north. You know by this point Stanley knows you’re gone. How could he not know? The coach had only stopped for a few moments. You’re sure at this point they must know you’re on the train. There was nothing else around that could whisk you away so quickly. Now you’re beginning to see the flaws of your plan. At least you have it in your favor that a train is much faster than a coach.

A little over an hour goes by and the train begins to slow after coming out of a long, dark tunnel. It stops at an old military station, the name “Bacchus” written above a rickety door. Some men, dressed in army uniforms, stand on the platform. When the train stops, you see men begin moving some boxes and barrels off a flatcar towards the rear of the train. Now is the time to leave.

You head outside, glad that none of the other passengers questioned your movements. Once off the train, you travel south, following the road but staying off it in case the coach happens to come along this way.

You’ve never been this far west before, but the country is beautiful. Tall, wispy aspens flutter their leaves in the gentle evening breeze. An elk lifts his proud head from a berry bush and stares at you, almost as though he knows he’s far more of a threat to you than you are to him. He goes back to browsing as the sun dips beyond the mountains.

Now you’re faced with another predicament. You’ve never slept outside and you don’t know the first thing about how to start a fire or find shelter. However, in a cluster of trees just south of the road, you see flickering firelight. Approaching it, you see a wagon and near it, surrounding the fire, is a blond man, his wife and two children, a boy and a girl. You approach slowly and the man looks up.

“Ah, hallo, gnädige Frau!” he says. You swallow. Of course, you took German when you were younger, but it’s been many years.

“Guten Abend,” you respond. His smile is warm and his family looks at you kindly, though they have already noticed how out of place you look in your heavy dress, feathered hat and high heels. You ask them if you could use their fire for the evening and they agree brightly.

You sit down, thanking them and the boy hands you a plate of Bratwursts and the girl offers you some German bread. You thank them again and eat, feeling quite hungry. As the sky grows darker, the family talks in their native tongue. You’ve forgotten most your German lessons, but still manage to pick up a few words.

“Ich haben ein Fragen,” the woman says to you. You recognize the word Fragen: question. You nod in recognition. “Was machst du hier?”

“What?” you ask, not understanding that line.

She gestures your clothes and then the fire. She wants to know why you’re here. You’ve no idea how to translate your predicament into their language. The young girl tugs on your sleeve.

“Ich kann etwas Englisch sprechen.” You nod.

“I am running away from my husband,” you say slowly enough that the girl can translate to her parents. “He is very rich but I am not happy with him.”

“Bist du schon lange gelaufen? Bist du mit dem Boot hierher gekommen?” The girl looks at you.

“Have you been running long? Did you come here by boat?”

You realize they must be confused by your accent. Although you’ve lived in America many years now, you still retain a decent amount of your British accent.

“No, no I only just ran away. I came here on a train, but my stagecoach driver and servant will be looking for me and they know I took the train.”

The parents nod, understanding now how you came to be at their fire.

“You are welcome to stay with us tonight,” the girl translates for her mother. “We are headed for Valentine tomorrow and can drop you off there.”

You thank them again and finish your meal. Not longer after, they show you a place under a canopy they’ve stretched over a spot of grass next to their wagon you can use. They’ve nothing to offer you except an old blanket. You take off only your shoes and hat and fall into an uncomfortable sleep.

**********************

In the morning, the family takes you to the small town of Valentine. There, you say your goodbyes and head into the general store where you trade in some jewels for money and buy some shirts and pairs of jeans. You’ve never worn pants before, but you figure the less you look like yourself, the easier you can hide. By this time surely, Stanley will have found a way to reach your husband and tell him of your disappearance. Leviticus may see you as nothing but property, but he will want you back, so you know he will begin a raging hunt. You desperately hope he never finds you as you hate to think what he’ll do to you if he does.

After buying clothes, provisions and a satchel to store things in, you head over to the stables and buy a tall cherry bay Thoroughbred named Willow. Only when the stablemaster comes out holding a heavy saddle do you realize another problem: you’ve never ridden with one leg on each side of the horse, only side saddle. Still, when you lead Willow out of the stables, you climb awkwardly into the stable and try your best to secure yourself in it, though it feels very foreign to you. You almost decide to buy a pistol from the gunsmith but realize that’s a foolish decision. You don’t know the first thing about guns and could very well end up shooting yourself. You decide it’s best to try and keep heading west, further from your home.

As you head south and away from Valentine, only going at a walk since you’re unaccustomed to riding this way, Willow snorts and stomps her foot, coming to a stop. You try urging her to walk on, but she just snorts again. Looking on the ground, you see a rattlesnake on the path, coiled and rattling its tail at her. Willow suddenly rears up and throws you to the ground before darting off into the trees. The snake slithers off, but your shoulder hurts terribly from where it slammed into the ground.

“You a’right, ma’am?” a voice asks.

Looking behind you, you find the picture-perfect example of a cowboy sitting astride his horse. His dark gambler’s hat shades his eyes from the sun and his blue shirt is worn and dirt. He looks at you, his face tanned and dirty from days of being in the sun and the wild, his jaw stubbled with a short beard. You notice his blue eyes.

“Yes, I’m alright,” you say, standing up and clutching your shoulder. “My horse was spooked by a snake.”

“I saw,” he says, dismounting his horse. “You need help catchin’ her?”

“Could you help?” you say, grateful he’s offering. “That would be lovely, sir.”

He tips his hat and then runs off into the trees where Willow went. You hear him talking to her in a gentle voice. A moment later, he leads her out. You thank him and then try mounting up, but what was a difficult task before is even harder now that your shoulder’s hurt.

“You need help, ma’am?” he asks again.

You nod and with a wavering voice explain that you’re new to this. He huffs a small laugh. “New to ridin’ a horse, sounds like ya just came here from London or someplace. You sure you’re doin’ a’right?”

You realize he’s not asking about your physical being, but more about your situation.

“To be honest, no sir. I’m… well, I come from a wealthy family but my husband died in a… a bad way and I had to run. Only I don’t know the first thing about being on my own.” You hope he doesn’t hear the lie.

“That much is clear,” he says, his hands on his hips. He looks rather attractive as he does and you blush and look away. He sighs heavily. “Well, sounds like you need help. Now I ain’t exactly clean in my own history, but I’m willin’ to offer you help until you get settled. Come on.”

He helps you into your saddle and then leads you further down the road and into a large cluster of trees where a large camp is nestled. Over the next few hours, you’re forced to sit by the horses as the man who helped you discusses with two other men whether you should be allowed to stay. In the end, they agree you can with the warning that if you mention them to anyone, particularly lawmen or Pinkertons, they will not be forgiving.

“Trust me,” you say to a tall man with a large black mustache and dark eyes. “I’ve no interest in speaking with lawmen. My husband will likely have them in his pockets, so they are just as much my enemy as they are yours.”

The man nods and walks away, asking a middle-aged woman with a thick bun on her head to help you set yourself up.

*******************************

Over the next few weeks, you learn that the camp you’re living with is a gang of outlaws, led by Dutch Van der Linde. His second in command is Hosea Matthews and the man who brought you here, named Arthur Morgan, is his right hand man.

Your introduction to the rest of the gang was not the smoothest as the matriarch, a woman named Susan Grimshaw, went into a right fit when she learned you have no domestic skills. “I never heard somethin’ so ridiculous in all my life!” she said. “Can’t even wash clothes!”

The other girls were kind enough to teach you how to do the chores around camp. You knew how to sew at least, not because you ever had to repair your own clothing but because you’d learned as a child how to embroider and knit. Luckily, sewing up the gang’s clothing is similar work, though with little art.

You like learning how to cook with a man named Simon Pearson. He’s quick to tell jokes, although he tells a lot of stories about his days with the navy and he only knows how to make a few things. You do somewhat miss having three-course meals three times a day, but you know you won’t starve here.

Most of the people in camp are kind and curious about you, although you tell them nothing of your husband’s real identity. You’ve told them all he died and never mentioned his name. For some reason, you get the feeling that to let slip the fact that your husband is Leviticus would be a bad thing. Cornwall’s got a lot of business out this way and he’s made a lot of enemies. You simply tell the others that your husband and you moved down here from London a few years back but he’s always been an abusive, hateful bastard and because you’re in America, the land of opportunity, you finally had a chance to get away from your life after his death. The others scoff at you calling this place the land of opportunity, saying there’s little of that to go around for people like them.

*******************************

You’ve become quite close to this gang that has quickly become your family over the last few weeks. Although most of them have their own sordid pasts, they’re good people. They have a sense of family you’ve never seen before, considering they come from a background your father would call “degenerate”. You’ve never seen people work so quickly and with such a sense of duty. Of course, that doesn’t mean they don’t have their problems with each other. Arguments do break out, but most of them seem to be for show and rarely end in physicality.

Only a week after you’d shown up, Arthur and some of the others came back with a red-haired man named Sean. You instantly knew he was Irish the moment he spoke. Since you both came from across the pond, you became close friends. You would have liked to get to know a woman named Molly O’Shea better as she was also Irish and she clearly came from a privileged background, but she didn’t seem interested.

The person who was most interested in you though was Arthur, the man who’d brought you here. Of course, you were extremely interested in him too and it didn’t take long for you to get feelings for him. He works the hardest out of all of them and he cares about everyone. You saw him bring Mary-Beth a fancy fountain pen one day after she’d mentioned she wanted one. During his rare breaks when he was in camp, he’d often come find you. He claimed he just wanted to make sure you were settling in fine, but you noticed he stuck around you more than the others. He asked a lot of questions about your past, what your childhood and marriage was like, why you left. You told him everything except who your husband was and the fact that he wasn’t really dead.

When you mentioned you lived your entire life being waited upon, he told you it sounded awful. “How did you not feel like a prisoner?” he asked. You were caught off guard by the question. Before you’d run away, you never felt that way. Now that you’re out here though, completely responsible for yourself, you realize you might as well have been a prisoner. You feel slightly envious about the others, realizing that even though none of them (except perhaps Molly) grew from well-off families, they’re wealthier in something you missed out on in life. All of them have tradable skills that you’re just now learning. Not only that, none of them have to put on a mask, hide who they are. Karen’s not shy about her drinking habits. Tilly used to run with a vicious gang and sometimes she talks about what that was like. No one in camp has ever had to pretend to be someone else. Something you were never allowed to do.

You sit now with the girls, reading aloud from a book Mary-Beth gave you. Although you often worked with them, they liked you to read aloud. Something about your accent, you suspected. Just as you’re reading a rather romantic scene from the almost sickeningly passionate story, Arthur walks over to your group, clearly wanting to see what’s going on. He has a habit of doing that, which you find endearing. You hide your smile and continue reading as he stops, his hand on his gunbelt. He smiles as he listens, his eyes soft.

Just as he’s about to say something, John Marston walks over and punches his arm. “Come on, Arthur. Got a job for ya. We’re gonna steal some sheep but need to go to Valentine for something.”

“Fine,” Arthur says gruffly. Not long after they leave, Dutch and Strauss head off too.

An hour or so later, the four men come back looking sweaty and angry, Strauss’s leg is bleeding. You’re washing some plates by Pearson’s wagon and Hosea marches over to them.

“Dutch, Dutch what happened?”

Dutch dismounts his white horse. “Turns out old Leviticus Cornwall don’t take too kindly to being robbed.” You freeze when you hear the name, but Dutch doesn’t notice. “He came up and tried to kill us, wants us to stop robbing him. We’ll have to leave this place, we had to shoot half the town in order to escape.”

You follow Dutch into his tent, staying a few steps behind as you listen to him and Hosea. They talk a little more about what led to them being shot at, but neither of them mention knowing Leviticus has a runaway wife. You breathe a sigh of relief. They don’t know, and if they do, they don’t know it’s you.

******************************

After fleeing Horseshoe Overlook, Arthur and Dutch both agreed you needed to learn how to rob, ride a horse properly and shoot a gun. Arthur took it on himself to teach you those things and he was an incredible instructor: patient, knowledgeable but not arrogant. The more time you spent with him, the deeper your feelings got. A nagging suspicion settled in your gut that he liked you too. It was just the soft way he spoke to you, how his hands lingered on yours when he taught you how to shoot a shotgun. One time you slid right off Willow’s back and he came over to help you up, but his hands stayed on your arms too long.

It didn’t take long for rumors to get out that you and Arthur were sweet on each other. Of course, you tried denying them, more to protect Arthur than yourself. No way could he want to be with you: a spoiled rich girl who didn’t even know how to sew a button on a shirt when he met you. He never treated you like a spoiled brat and he mentioned to you time and time again how sweet and honest you’ve been with everyone.

One night after Arthur, Karen, Bill and Lenny robbed the bank in Valentine, Dutch demanded a party for their success as they brought back a lot of cash. Everyone drank and sang together, but it wasn’t long before Sean, Uncle and Lenny started needling Arthur for having a crush on you. He denied it again and again until John came up and joined the fun, stating how obvious it was with a list of examples of his behavior that proved he liked you.

“I bet you ten dollars, Morgan,” John said, “that if you went over there and kissed her on the mouth right now, that girl would be blushing like crazy and wouldn’t even be mad. I know she likes you.”

“Shut your damn mouth, Marston,” Arthur retorted. That was until the other boys joined in on the bet, which climbed up to fifty dollars. All he had to do was kiss you in front of everyone right now. He’d had a lot of whiskey and his face was bright red, but when he looked at you sitting at the round table singing with Grimshaw, he couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter. You looked so beautiful in the light of the lantern, your cheeks pink from your own drunken state.

“Go get her, son,” Hosea said. Arthur looked at him and then got up, walking slowly over to you. He fidgeted with his hands, terrified but fueled by drink. When he got to your table, he stopped.

“Y/N, I got somethin’ to say to ya,” he said.

You smiled and stood up so he could address you. “Alright, Mr. Morgan. What is it?”

He stammered for a bit, his face growing redder. He hid his eyes beneath his hat and his hands were shaking. God, he was cute when he was nervous.

Without warning, he suddenly grabbed you and bent you slightly backwards, his lips planting on yours. Out of all the things Arthur could have done that night, that was certainly the last thing you expected. You almost pulled away, but his lips were warm and rough against your smooth skin. He smelled nice too, like pine and leather although you could taste the alcohol on his lips. Forgetting that you had an audience, your hand wove up behind his neck, pulling him closer. Your chest grew warm and a light feeling overcame you, making you kiss him back.

Someone whistled at you and Arthur, followed by several people laughing. That brought you back down to the present and Arthur pulled away from you and then straightened you up. His face was horribly red, but he was smiling. “Sorry, Y/N,” he said. “I hope I didn’t frighten ya.”

“Maybe a little, but I liked it,” you said, your hand still on his chest. You glanced at the onlookers as they continued to laugh and tease you. You bit your lip and looked up at Arthur. “What say you we go somewhere more private and try that kiss again?”

He quickly grabbed your hand and led you off into the trees and then onto a moon-bathed beach by the lake. There, you two ended up doing much more than kissing, although that’s how it started. Encouraged by your drunken states, you were the one who got carried away and stripped out of your clothes in order to swim in the lake to relieve the heat of the air and your body. Arthur followed soon after, but you remember the way he watched you swim. Not long after, you ended up lying with him on the beach, his body glowing silver under the moon. You climbed onto him just to kiss him, but as you were naked and alone, it didn’t take much to end up going further.

Although the only man you’d slept with before had been Leviticus, it was never on your terms and he only did things with you for a moment before he reached his satisfaction and was done with you. However, Arthur was so different. He touched you in just the right places, his rough hands gliding along your naked back and hips. He felt amazing inside of you as well, almost as though your bodies were molded for the other’s. He’d gotten you to release first then followed shortly after. You never knew sex could be so passionate and emotional, but Arthur made you feel and think things you’d never experienced before.

The morning after had been a bit awkward when the two of you woke up naked on the beach, still wrapped around one another. You had a pounding headache and knew Arthur did too. When you remembered what you’d done together, you both panicked a moment. Had you really slept with Arthur the same night you found out he loved you back? The two of you dressed but stayed on the beach and talked things out. You came to the decision that what had happened had felt right and you wanted to stay together. After that, you were very open with your relationship to Arthur with the rest of the gang.

That all happened weeks ago, and you’ve grown to love him more than you thought possible. You’d dreamed of finding a man to love as a child, but had no idea it felt like this. Even as a child, the men you’d imagined you’d love couldn’t hold a candle to Arthur. He’s thoughtful and secretly sensitive, but protective and strong. You remember the way he held you when Sean died, almost crushing you as you sobbed into his chest. Another time in Saint Denis, a man on the street had said something rather rude about you and Arthur punched him in the jaw. “You don’t get to say shit about my girl, ya hear?” he roared as the man fled. You couldn’t dream of a more perfect man to love than Arthur Morgan.

You were crushed when Hosea and Lenny died and most of the gangs’ men, including Arthur, ended up on a boat and stranded on Guarma. You never thought you’d miss anyone so much, but during the couple of weeks that he was gone, you felt physical pain in his absence. You spent many nights lying on his cot clutching one of his shirts, willing his scent to stay and offer you some level of comfort. When he returned, it was like you could breathe again. Shortly afterwards though, the Pinkertons forced you and the gang to flee Lakay and into Beaver Hollow, an old Murphree hideout.

That’s where you are now. While things with the gang have always had rough patches, now they’re worse than ever. People fight constantly and Dutch seems to be losing his mind. He’s changed from the intelligent, cunning but caring man into someone who’s still intelligent and cunning but enjoys killing. It doesn’t help that Micah constantly hisses into his ear.

Over the past few months of travelling with the gang, you’ve heard relatively little from and about your husband. Somehow you’ve managed to avoid the patrols he’s likely sent out to look for you and you only saw your name show up once in an article in the Saint Denis paper about your disappearance. However, with tensions in the camp running higher than ever and Dutch acting so mad, you’re beginning to fear things are about to come to a head with you at the center.

Micah strolls into camp, holding a newspaper under his arm and followed by Bill. They’ve just come from Annesburg, having scouted there for possible leads on scores. You’re standing at Pearson’s wagon, preparing tonight’s stew. Micah gives you a knowing and dark smile that you don’t like as he heads to Dutch’s wagon. A bad feeling comes into your stomach and you follow behind him a few steps.

“Dutch, I just found somethin’ out. Somethin’ that could be real useful. Somethin’ with ol’ Cornwall,” Micah simpers at him.

Dutch lowers his cigar and looks at Micah expectantly. Micah rubs his hands together.

“Did you know ol’ Cornwall’s married and his little wife ran away right after we robbed his train up in Ambarino?”

“How is this any use to us?” Arthur demands, having been attracted by the name Cornwall. “Not like we’re gonna find her.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, cowpoke. Turns out we already found her and she’s right there.” Micah spins and points right at you. Everyone in camp stops and stares at you as your blood runs cold.

“Shut up, Micah,” Arthur growls, walking up to your side to protect you. “Y/N’s husband’s dead.”

“Or is he?” Micah retorts. He flings the newspaper at Arthur. “Read it and weep, Morgan.”

Arthur furrows his brow but opens the newspaper. “N-no, don’t!” you plead, but too late. There’s a black and white photograph of you standing arm in arm with Leviticus Cornwall, your unsmiling faces staring up at Arthur. He reads the first bit of the article aloud.

“Leviticus Cornwall, executive of Cornwall Kerosene and Tar, Cornwall Rails blah blah blah has released a new statement regarding the disappearance of his wife. Back in May, Mr. Cornwall’s train was robbed in Ambarino by the notorious Van der Linde gang. In order to investigate the robbery, Mr. Cornwall and his wife Y/N came down from their home in Pennsylvania. Mr. Cornwall last saw his wife in Annesburg when she left to stay in his residence in New Hanover. It was reported that she did not arrive at the home but her stage driver and chauffeur, Mr. Stanley Wilcox, claimed she was missing shortly after arriving at Emerald Ranch. It was unknown then if they had been involved in her disappearance or if she’d been kidnapped by other means.”

“Earlier this month, a citizen of Saint Denis stated he’d seen Mrs. Cornwall in the city. ‘I’d just visited the Cornwall manor a week previously on business with my brother,’ Mr. Henry Larson reports. ‘I saw a painting in a hallway of Mr. Cornwall and his wife Y/N. I recognized her immediately. She was dressed like a farm girl but it was definitely her.’”

“A few days after this incident was reported, authorities had reached Mr. Cornwall about his wife’s appearance, but before he could arrive, the Saint Denis Massacre occurred in which the previously mentioned Van der Linde gang attempted to rob the city’s bank and a shootout between them, the city’s law enforcement and the Pinkerton Detective Agency occurred. The gang of outlaws has since fled the area, but rumors speculate that Mrs. Cornwall is among them. If anyone holds any information towards her whereabouts, they are greatly urged to come forward. Mr. Cornwall has offered a considerable $20,000 to anyone who can find his wife and return her safely.”

Arthur lowers the paper, his eyes dark. Your hands are trembling. The cat’s out of the bag now and you’re in big trouble. Micah sniggers as Arthur looks at you, his eyes tell you the betrayal and pain he feels.

“You’re Y/N Cornwall,” he says as a tear slides down your cheek.

“Only on paper,” you say. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Oh because it was so hard to say ‘hello, I’m Y/N Cornwall, you just robbed my husband but do you mind if I run with you fellas a while’ when you first arrived?” Micah taunts. Dutch’s eyes are narrowed slightly, the way they do when he’s got a plan coming together.

You look around at everyone staring at you in shock. Some look like they have a hard time believing it, Mary-Beth and John for example, while others look angry and hurt. Arthur is among them. He drops the newspaper and takes a step back from you.

“All this time,” he says quietly. “All this time and you never mentioned once you’re his goddamn wife!”

Another tear falls. “I’m sorry, Arthur. Everyone, I’m sorry. But how was I supposed to tell you the truth? You robbed my husband, he tried to kill you. Not only that, I was never married to him by choice. My parents basically sold me to him and he’s never made me happy. Maybe… maybe I was just happy to finally be around people who didn’t associate me with him for once.”

You clasp your hands in front of you, willing any of them to understand. Dutch walks slowly towards you, his jaw set. Micah follows behind, looking excited.

“You’re Y/N Cornwall. The man who has been hunting us for months. The man who holds the ticket to our freedom from this cesspit of a country. I think I have a new plan.”

His eyes narrow, glittering. You suddenly realize what he’s thinking.

“Dutch, please don’t take me to him. I’m begging you. If he finds me again, he’ll kill me. I don’t even know if he’ll pay you for me. Dutch, he hates you and your boys more than anything, you were the only ones stupid enough to rob him. I know for a fact he’s paying the Pinkertons to hunt you down.”

“How do you know this?” John asks, standing next to Arthur.

“Because I know Leviticus better than any of you,” you say. “He obviously figured out pretty quickly that the gang from Blackwater were the same ones to rob him. He also must have found out the Pinkertons were looking for you, so I’ve no doubt he contacted them and started putting money into their pockets.”

“Or you’re the rat we’ve been looking for,” Micah sneers. “Maybe you’re the one telling the Pinkertons our every move. Think about it, Dutch. All our problems with them started right after we took her in. She’s been lying to us from the start.”

You don’t know what to say in your defense. Since you have lied to them from the start about your true past, there’s nothing you can do to say you aren’t lying to them now.

“Dutch, please,” you whisper, your lower lip trembling.

He sighs and stares hard at you. “Tie her up.”

Before you can move, two pairs of hands grip you tight and throw you down, your hands and feet being tied up. People are yelling, you hear Sadie screech and Arthur roar. You start trying to look around to ask someone for help, but a black cloth is tied around your head, covering your eyes. Someone shoves another cloth into your mouth, preventing you from speaking. You can still hear though.

“Dutch!” Arthur roars. “Let’s talk about this! We can’t take her to Cornwall! Like she said, ain’t no guarantee he’d pay us after all the problems we given him.”

You feel yourself thrown over a horse’s back as Dutch says, “This is the right move, Arthur. I don’t like it, but she’s used us and this is our best shot at getting out of here. Heyaw!”

The horse beneath you suddenly begins to run and you can hear the pounding of other horses. Arthur still yells at Dutch, trying to make him think logically, but Dutch ignores him.

After a while of heavy riding in which you feel like all your ribs and your stomach have been heavily bruised from the horse’s movements, they stop. You can smell the thick coal dust and the smell of polluted water. Someone’s hands grab you and you’re set on your feet, the ropes cut. The bandana and gag are removed and you see you’re standing on the pier of Annesburg, a boat docked. The name of it is The Soaring Emily. Leviticus named it that after his first wife.

“Cornwall!” Dutch hollers, keeping a painfully tight hold on your arm. “Cornwall! Get out here! My friends and I have a proposal for you!”

Looking behind you and Dutch, you spot Bill, Micah, John and Arthur. Arthur looks at you, pain in his eyes. He doesn’t want to do this, but nothing can stop Dutch in his roll.

A door on the ship’s deck opens and Leviticus Cornwall steps out, flanked by a group of men, all holding rifles. His eyes glare at you and then to Dutch.

“My friend,” Dutch says. “I heard tell that your lovely wife got away from your clutches. Well, just so happens, she’s been stowing away with me and my boys for the last few weeks. Rumor says you’re wanting her back, so we’re here to make a deal. You give me and my boys that $20,000 and a boat. You get your wife back and we’ll stop robbing from you. In fact, you’ll never hear from us again.”

Leviticus just laughs. “Mr. Van der Linde, I admire your determination and your daring, but if you think I will give you a single penny, then you’re sorely mistaken.”

“How about now?” Dutch responds, pulling out his pistol and aiming it at your temple. He pulls the back the hammer, your heart pounding in your ears as more tears fall down your cheeks. Dutch wouldn’t kill you, would he? After all the time you spent in his camp, helping feed the others and bring in money, he’s just going to kill you. Something tells you he will if he doesn’t get his way.

“Dutch,” Arthur hisses a warning behind him. He’s ignored.

“Now Mr. Cornwall, I know what it’s like to see the woman you love die by the hands of your greatest enemy. Now while I doubt poor Y/N here is the love of your life, you obviously value her in some way. Which would you rather keep? Her life or your money?”

Cornwall glares back at him, his teeth bared. “I’m a businessman, Mr. Van der Linde. Business doesn’t care for feelings or love. Shoot her if you must, but I will not give you anything!”

Your stomach drops as you realize that this is it. Dutch is just crazy enough that he won’t care about shooting a member of his own gang. You’re not surprised at all that Leviticus is willing to let you die. To him, you’re replaceable, a mere object. Still you thought you mattered to the others, to Arthur.

Before anyone can do anything to save you from Dutch’s grip, Dutch nods. “You sure? Fine, I prefer it this way.” He suddenly swings the gun forward and shoots Cornwall, the bullet piercing his chest. He pushes you down as Cornwall’s men begin firing, the others shooting back. The gang begins to run as more men come out from the boat, leaving you where you’ve fallen. You start to scream, begging for help, but it seems no one can hear you amidst the gunfire.

Suddenly a pair of hands grabs your arms and cuts the length of rope binding them, then they lift you up. “Come on, sweetheart,” Arthur’s rough voice says as you stand.

You’re shaking hard and you want nothing more than to throw your arms around him, but now isn’t the time. Sharp gunshots litter the air, echoing off the buildings. Arthur grabs your hand and runs north on the train tracks. When you reach a bridge going over a sharp dip in the land, a path running through it, he stops.

“You go, darlin’,” he says, breathing hard. “Go, don’t come back to Beaver Hollow. It ain’t safe for you there.”

“Arthur, I’m sorry,” you say, thinking he’s pushing you away because he’s mad.

“Just go, darlin’. I’ll come find you when I can. But you can’t come back, ya hear? You do and you’re dead.” Before you can say anything else, he’s running back down the bridge towards Annesburg to rejoin the gang. You know he can’t leave of course. Not now anyways. Dutch and the others still depend on him too much.

You flee from Annesburg, having no idea where you’ll go or what you’ll do. Your horse is back at Beaver Hollow, but luckily all your money and the few pieces of jewelry you stole from Leviticus are in your satchel. You run north towards Willard’s Rest and then stop by the wide river where you finally break down. The past few weeks come rushing through you, the good and the bad. You know since Guarma, Dutch has gone crazy but you never thought he’d turn on you like that. Not when he’s spouted for weeks about having loyalty and faith to anyone who would listen. Your life has come crashing down around you so swiftly, you aren’t sure how to process it.

You stay here for a few hours, going between sobbing, missing the gang (especially Arthur) and feeling numb. As the sun begins to set, you look down the path and see Arthur riding up, your horse in tow. When you see him, you begin to cry again. You don’t run to him though, knowing how hurt he must be.

He dismounts and walks over to you, pulling you into a tight hug which surprises you. “Arthur, I’m so sorry,” you wail into his shirt. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he says into your hair. “I know why ya lied. Hell, I probably would’ve too. But everything else you said, was it true?”

“Everything is. The way I grew up, how I was sold to him. I promise his name and the fact that he wasn’t dead at the time was the only parts I hid.”

He sighs and pulls away. “Well, I guess one of your lies came true today though. Darlin’, I’m so sorry.”

Over the next few hours, you and he discuss what will happen now. He comes to the decision he won’t leave the gang, he can’t. He knows now that there’s no saving Dutch, but maybe he can help the others get out. You, on the other hand, would be handed a death sentence if you stepped foot into the camp. He asks what you want to do and you admit that you just want to live somewhere alone with him and have a quiet life, begin a family with him. He blushes but agrees that’s what he wants to.

The next day, he takes you to a small cottage he’s seen on the borders of New Hanover and Ambarino, not far from the river. It’s secluded and well hidden in the trees. You have plenty of money to set your things in order, so you’ll be well off here. It’s also far enough from the gang that they won’t find you but it’s not far enough for him to not come visit you.

Over the next couple of weeks, he visits every couple of days. You manage to take care of yourself quite well having learned through him how to hunt and skin animals. You bought some materials and seeds from the store in Valentine and are determined to start a garden, although you’ve never taken care of plants before. It’s a lot harder than you thought, but you manage to get a few plants sprouting.

When Arthur visits, he tells you of the things he and the gang has done, how much crazier Dutch gets. Arthur himself is growing angry and mistrustful of him, but he’s determined to help the others escape with their lives. Sometimes you read about the gang’s activities in the paper in Valentine, like Bacchus Bridge being blown up, Colm O’Driscoll’s hanging in Saint Denis followed by a deadly shootout, tensions growing between the Wapiti and the army.

One night Arthur shows up at your little cabin late into the night. He’s exhausted and there’s blood on his hands. “I’m done, darlin’,” he says when you open the door. “I ain’t ever goin’ back there. I’ve wasted my life livin’ the preachings of a crazy man.”

“What happened?”

Arthur explains how the son of the Wapiti chief went and did a raid on Cornwall’s oilfield in order to retaliate for them forcing his people off their land. You know Arthur has had many dealings with them, trying to help them in their struggles against the army. Arthur then describes how, after getting bonds from the foreman’s office, he got knocked down by a burst pipe. An officer pinned him to the floor and nearly overpowered him. Dutch had seen it all and even had the chance to kill the man, but Arthur watched him walk away, sealing his fate.

“If Eagle Flies hadn’t come, I’d be dead. Then that asshole Colonel Favors shot him. He’s dead now, and all because Dutch didn’t care if I died. When I accused him of such, he lied in front of everyone and said he’d done no such thing. I’m done, darlin’. I’m done fightin’ his battles for him just so he can leave me to die. I wanna start a new life with you properly now.”

“Arthur,” you say, cupping his cheek. “That’s all I ever wanted.”

#rdr2 fanfic #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #awkward asks

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