#I am not subtle with the heaven jabs | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

senditcolton · 10 months

Text

breakable heaven

summary: when Juliette Lucas wakes up wrapped in the arms of Adam Lowry - the man that she had pined after for years - she should feel content. but instead, she feels guilty. she didn’t mean for any of this to happen. she never planned on becoming the other woman. but when it feels this good, how could it possibly be wrong?

playlist word count: 17.5k warnings: cheating fic, smut (explicit in the beginning, multiple vague references throughout), angst, bittersweet ending

written for @wyattjohnston's Summer Fic Exchange. to Celly (@cellythefloshie) with love.

Am I foolish for wanting this? It will end in flames, it always does. Maybe I like the way it feels to burn.

*~*~*~*~*

“Jules?”

Juliette Lucas can’t help but stiffen at the sound of the nickname. Not because of any traumatic memory or something of the sort. Unless you count the fact that the only person who ever called her that – her best friend from high school – left almost eight years ago without a word.

The person whose voice she could still hear in her sleep.

The same voice that was calling out to her from across the grocery store right now.

“Hey, Jules!”

She turns, muscles still tight with anticipation over seeing his face again. And there he is, Adam Lowry, jogging up to her from the other end of the breakfast aisle.

And, fuck, he looks hot. He was always attractive, even in high school but damn, the years had definitely been kind to him. Even in his simple joggers, plain navy t-shirt, and baseball cap, Juliette could see the muscle tone of his body. And the shadow cast across his face simply emphasized everything else: his strong jaw, the deep red of his facial hair, the bright blue of his eyes that were sparkling as he ran up to her.

“I look like shit right now.”

That irrational thought is the first clear present statement that echoes through her brain as she takes a quick glance down at her sweatpants and old tank top.

There is little time to worry however, because before Juliette knows it, Adam is front of her and the wind of his momentum ruffles her hair.

“Hey,” he says breathlessly, smiling down at her. “Long time no see.”

“That tends to happen when you move away to a different province,” she replies, trying not to give her words a cutting edge. Although, Juliette can see that she wasn’t entirely successful based on the subtle way Adam’s face falls.

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to visit but, y’know, life,” he attempts to explain, his hand reaching back to scratch the back of his neck. Juliette can’t stop the small smile that tugs at the corner of her lips, his nervous ticks the exact same ones he had back in high school.

A lot of things might have changed. But that didn’t mean the person standing in front of her was a stranger. It was Adam. Her Adam.

“It’s alright, I get it,” she replies, her voice softening. “Anyway, you’re here now. What brings you back to Calgary?”

“My dad was finally able to convince me to come up, mostly to see all the finished renovations they made on the lake house. And it looks really good. Although, I almost don’t recognize it which is weird considering all the summers we spent there, growing up.”

“Life moves on around you, whether you like it to or not,” Juliette laughs, knowing the feeling of time passing her by all too well.

“Speaking of life, how have you been Jules?”

“Oh, I’ve been alright. Nothing super new or exciting. Work is work, life is life. Same old, same old I’m afraid.”

“Well, considering the last time I really talked to you was eight years ago at graduation, I highly doubt everything is the same,” Adam teases and Juliette’s eyes roll at his jab.

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know.”

There is a small pause as the two of them simply look at each other. It had been years and that time seemed to stretch in between them like and ocean. One too expansive to cross right now, here, in the middle of a grocery store.

“Well,” Juliette says, being the first to break the silence, “I got to finish shopping. Need to get home and get ready a party later tonight.”

“Charleen’s party, right?” Adam asks. The statement sort of catches Juliette off-guard as she fixes Adam a puzzled glance.

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“She invited me too.”

“You still talk to Charlie?”

“More like my parents still talk to her. She helped them with the renovation.”

“Right, her interior design business,” Juliette nods.

“Yeah, she was visiting today, going over a few last-minute details with my parents when I arrived and she invited me.”

“Cool. Well then, I guess I’ll see you there?”

Adam replies with a small nod which Juliette returns, grabbing her cart. She starts to turn away before Adam’s voice calls out to her again.

“Hey, Jules.”

She turns her head to look back at Adam and the pang in her heart is sharp and sudden as she takes in that smile, the one that shot her back to nights on her parent’s couch, his laugh echoing around the family room at whatever ridiculous movie he convinced her to watch.

“It was really good to see you again.”

Juliette just returns his smile before turning away, hating the feeling of heat that crawls up her neck. She attempts to smother the thoughts and emotions that had been lying dormant, just long enough to finish her shopping.

After checking the last things off her list, paying, and packing up her Jeep, Juliette starts her drive home. And as the scenery passes her by, the memories come flooding back as fast as the wind.

He was back. Adam was back, after all these years. And his presence had awakened the feelings that Juliette thought she had banished long ago. It was beyond cliché, falling for her high school best friend. But in her defense, she never expected to. There was just one day when she realized that she wanted him as more than just a best friend.

Unfortunately, that realization came too late, arriving right before Adam was about to leave for Winnipeg to start his professional hockey career. She should have told him then, before he was gone. But she didn’t, out of fear of ruining their friendship and losing her best friend to something worse than distance. Something that couldn’t be recovered from.

But… she lost him anyway.

Juliette sighs, snapping herself out of her reverie as she pulls into her apartment complex. Her mind is still filled with static on the elevator ride up and the static remains as she puts her groceries away and starts to get ready for Charleen’s party.

After a quick shower and some makeup, Juliette finds herself standing in front of her closet, flipping through her clothes, attempting to find a suitable outfit for the festivities. It shouldn’t be this hard; it usually isn’t this difficult. But Juliette would be lying if she pretended not to know why she was struggling. It was Adam, once again.

She wanted to look nice. Nicer than just nice. She wanted to look beautiful, gorgeous, eye-catching, stunning. She wanted Adam to see how she had changed. She wanted Adam to want to talk to her.

Or, simply, she wanted Adam to want to want her.

When her hand lands on a dress buried in the depths of her closet, one that she had almost forgotten about and yet was everything she could’ve asked for, she slipped it on over her head.

“This is a shit idea.”

That’s the thought repeating in Juliette’s head as she turns, checking out her reflection in the full-length mirror next to her closet, head spinning with the implications of what she was planning.

“Listen,” Juliette thinks, attempting to assuage the nagging voice in the back of her mind. “It’s just a dress. That’s all. I just want to look good for this party. No other reason.”

That was a blatant lie. This tight red summer dress hugging her frame was for one reason – or more accurately, one person.

After seeing him again, knowing that he was once again back in Calgary, back in her life and she felt just as strongly about him as she did in high school… well, how could anyone pass up the opportunity?

So, yeah, maybe she should wear the sexiest dress she could to the party at Charleen’s lake house. Maybe then her and Adam could stop tiptoeing on this fucking tightrope or at least, she’d know if Adam felt the same way about her that she did.

And, hey, if that didn’t happen and he left for Winnipeg at the end of summer … at least she looks hot.

A sigh escapes Juliette as she gently shakes her head, her mind once again reiterating how stupid of an idea this was. But she is nothing if not committed – even to her most ridiculous ideas. So, with another sigh, she grabs her white denim jacket and car keys and leaves the apartment.

The drive to Charleen’s is quick and even though Juliette isn’t ridiculously late, cars are already lining the street outside. She manages to find a spot off to the side of the house and hops out of her Jeep, her eyes flicking over the other vehicles, wondering which one is Adam’s.

If he’s even here yet.

There’s another quick shake of her head, another silent admonishment about how desperate she was acting, before she walks up to the front door, not bothering to knock, knowing Charlie would have left it unlocked for the guests.

As soon as the door swings open, Juliette is welcomed in with the sound of music being played over speakers and the chatter of other people. She slips into the house, kicking off her shoes by the front door before wandering deeper until she is on the edge of the living room, looking out at the scene of multiple friends and acquaintances, all laughing and drinking.

“Julie!!”

The screech of joy comes from Elsie, who bounces over to Juliette sweeping her into a hug, her own long blonde hair tickling Juliette’s shoulders. Juliette laughs as she is spun around by the sheer force of Elsie’s hug.

“I’m so glad you made it!” Elsie continues shouting, drawing the attention of a few people around them.

“Hi, Elsie,” Juliette giggles into her friends embrace, finally pulling away and meeting her bright gaze. “It’s good to see you too.”

“A drink! You need a drink!” Elsie says, mind going a mile a minute as it always did, grabbing Juliette’s hand and drags her to the adjoining kitchen. “Charlie stocked everything but people have also brought their own drinks so there’s plenty to go around.”

Elsie’s words are confirmed as soon as the two of them enter the kitchen, Juliette’s eyes almost bugging out of her head at the various alcohol cans and bottles lining in the kitchen island.

“There’s also a keg outside.”

“Oh, god, how long until someone does a keg stand?” Juliette playfully grimaces, turning to Elsie who shares her laughter.

“Corey already tried to convince some people to do one but thankfully, we aren’t at that point yet. I think we are trying to keep it somewhat classy.”

“Oh yeah, a bunch of twenty-somethings in a cabin with a ton of alcohol is definitely how we keep it classy.”

“Okay, the important word in that sentence was trying,” Elsie laughs. Juliette just responds with a shake of her head before grabbing a vodka seltzer and following Elsie back into the living room.

For the next hour or so, Juliette spends her time greeting and catching up with old friends as well as being introduced to some people that she didn’t know; mostly new romantic partners but some friends of friends. It seemed as if Charleen managed to cram almost all of their old homeroom into her lake house and everyone invited brought at least two other people with them.

Eventually, Juliette settled down on one of the couches, talking to Elsie’s twin brother Evan. It is in the middle of their conversation with when she hears a commotion. And when she turns her eyes towards the noise, she sees Adam walking into the room, the grin on his face and a six pack of beer in each hand, a bunch of people cheering around him.

She can’t help the roll of her eyes and the shake of her head at his entrance.

“It’s like he’s the next coming of Christ,” Evan jokes to her, reading her reaction.

“The local celebrity graces us with his presence,” Juliette quips back, causing a laugh to fall from the blond. Although, even with her snarky words, Juliette can’t stop her eyes from jumping back to Adam as he wanders back into the room, a single beer in his hand and the plain white t-shirt highlighting the warmth of his skin and the strength of his body.

“Have you talked to him?” Evan asks, pulling her attention back to him.

“We actually ran into each other earlier today, at the grocery store of all places.”

“And how was that?”

“What do you mean?” Juliette asks, her eyebrows furrowing at Evan’s question.

“Come on, Julie. You two were practically attached at the hip in high school. He came over to our house with you almost as many times as you did alone.”

“Yeah, but that was years ago. He’s off doing bigger and better things. Probably doesn’t think about me that much anymore.”

“Did you recognize him earlier today at the store or did he recognize you?”

“He did…” she replies, the words trailing off as she tries to uncover Evan’s meaning.

“So, he recognized you after almost eight years. That’s a long time, Julie. Plus, judging by the way his eyes have been attached to you since he walked in, I think it’s safe to say he remembers you well enough.”

“What?”

Juliette’s head spins towards Adam and is immediately met with his blue eyes locked on her frame. Eventually, their eyes connect and Juliette watches as a smile breaks out on Adam’s face as he tips his beer towards her in a silent greeting.

Juliette lifts her hand up in a small wave and as soon as the motion happens, her hand flies back down and she tears her gaze away, only to be greeted with Evan’s smug face.

“Shut up,” she mutters, taking another drink of her seltzer, the skin on the back of her neck heating up at Evan’s laugh.

“My god, you still have a crush on him,” Evan says. “Oh, this is hilarious.”

“Shut up Evan.”

“Nah, this is great. Eight years and you’re still pining over him.”

“I am not pining over him.”

“It’s okay, I get it. He was pretty hot back then and he’s only gotten hotter with age. Fine wine and all that nonsense.”

The look that Juliette shoots Evan is one of bemusement as Evan glances over towards Adam before jumping back to her.

“What? I’m gay as shit, remember? Besides, even if I wasn’t, I’ve got eyes.”

“Well, then, why don’t you go and talk to him.”

“Not my type,” Evan replies dismissively causing another snorting laugh to fall from her mouth. When she looks back up to Evan, the expression on his face is still teasing but Juliette recognizes the sincerity underneath his features. “Just go and talk to him, Julie. Even if it’s just as an old friend.”

Evan’s advice bounces around her skull, the proposition sounding so easy and so effortless. But perhaps it was that simple. Maybe Juliette was the one making everything more complicated than it had to be, adding to much weight to a moment that would end up being inconsequential.

For what seemed like the hundredth time that evening, a heavy sigh escapes Juliette as she glances back towards Adam, whose attention was now directed to Marina and her new fiancé. She looks back at Evan, sitting patiently to see her next move.

“You’re like an annoying younger brother, you know that?” Juliette says, the playful tone lightening the blunt words.

“I’m technically older than you.”

“Yeah, yeah, technically,” Juliette says, lifting herself up off the couch, stretching her arms over her head.

“Go get him, tiger,” Evan quips, to which she replies with a quick middle finger thrown over her shoulder, an action which elicits another cackle from Evan as she walks away.

As she wanders into the kitchen, Juliette’s eyes scan over the assortment of alcohol laid out over the counters. The smart thing to do would be to grab another seltzer and nurse that for as long as possible. But she promised Evan that she would talk to Adam and if there was one thing she knew about Evan, he would continue to nag her until she did.

But considering the fluttering of her heart at the mere thought of holding a conversation with the man she still harbored feelings for, she knew she was going to need a stronger drink to help loosen her inhibitions at least a little bit. Just so she wouldn’t embarrass herself.

Although, drunk Juliette could be an embarrassment all on her own. It was a calculate risk.

One that, after a minute of thinking, Juliette decides to take. She grabs some random mixer and pours it into one of the cheap plastic cups that were stacked nearby. She is halfway through adding the vodka when, for the second time that day, Adam’s voice sounds from behind her.

“Do you remember that time your parents let us make our own drinks?”

The smile that comes to Juliette’s face is automatic as she continues to focus on her current task, replying without looking back.

“During the Labour Day barbeque? Of course.”

“I think they ended up regretting that idea later,” Adam says, the edge of his words painted with a breathy chuckle. Juliette also giggles, grabbing her drink before turning to see Adam standing on the other end of the island.

“That was just because someone heard if you mixed blue raspberry vodka with Mountain Dew of all things, it would taste like a Baja Blast.”

“Well, I mean, it did.”

“Yeah, and that was the problem!” Juliette laughs, shaking her head slightly at the still blurry memories of her and Adam acting like complete fools. “I still don’t remember how many of those we managed to drink before falling asleep on the couch in the basement.”

“It sure was a night,” Adam sighs, his eyes darting away, looking down at the half-eaten plates of snacks that Charleen had laid out earlier.

Juliette watches as he reaches out to take a carrot, trying not to get distracted by how elegant his fingers looked. Her attempt was quickly derailed as it took Adam clearing his throat to get her eyes to snap back to his. She has to push away the blush that she feels rising, hiding her face behind her cup as she takes another sip of alcohol.

Juliette half expects Adam to call her out on it, never one to pass up an opportunity to tease her. But he doesn’t. Instead, he once again shoots her that gentle smile and Juliette stops herself from taking another drink to quiet the pounding of her heart.

“What do you remember about the morning after?” Adam asks. His question causes another sigh of laughter to fall, his return to normal conversation giving her some relief.

“That I couldn’t eat for like a full 8 hours. As far as hangovers go, I never want to experience that again.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“Oh, I’m sorry we don’t all have the tolerance of a professional athlete.”

“Hey, I wasn’t professional back then,” he retorts.

“Still an athlete,” Juliette sing-songs into her cup, the action making Adam chuckle and shake his head.

“Fine, I’ll give you that.”

There’s another small pause and Juliette takes the chance to think over Adam’s words. The conversation had been pretty normal, reminiscing over the past as friends would, specifically a memory that was similar to the current situation. But there was one aspect of it that nagged at the back of her mind – a loose thread of sorts. And Juliette decides to tug at it.

“So, did you not wake up still drunk the morning after that Labour Day?”

“I mean, I was definitely hungover. But, uh, waking up the morning after with you curled up next to me… it made the splitting headache a little better.”

It takes a minute for Adam’s confession to register but when they finally do, Juliette has to smother the immediate surprise that his words bring.

Waking up next to you made it better.

The words spin around in Juliette’s head, burrowing into every crevice of her brain and stoking the flames of that every present spark of hope that was still burning after all this time.

Waking up next to you made it better.

The critical voice in her head chooses to speak up, telling Juliette that he didn’t confess to anything. Waking up with a hangover alone, or even with a complete stranger, would absolutely be worse than waking up to a friend.

“Shouldn’t have been that life-changing,” Juliette forces herself to say, attempting to brush off his words and pretending that they didn’t affect her as much as they did. “We’ve slept in the same bed before.”

“I know,” Adam replies, his own voice non-committal, his eyes once again falling away from her.

Another silence falls but this time, there is a tension with it. One that is suffocating and Juliette hates the feeling of it. Hates how it hangs. But she isn’t sure how to fix it. So, she does the one thing that she knows how to do.

Leave. Before things take a turn for the worse.

“Um,” she begins, calling Adam’s attention to her again and her words stick in her throat for a moment at the way his blue eyes pierce into hers. “I better be getting back. Evan was just about to tell me about his most recent terrible blind date.”

“Okay,” Adam replies. His eyes stay glued to Juliette’s body as she starts to walk towards the kitchen exit. “Talk to you later?”

“Of course,” Juliette hums, almost at the threshold to re-enter the living room. She is about to exit when Adam’s voice once again stops her.

“Hey, Jules?”

The nickname makes her turn back to look at Adam and a small trill is sent down her spine as she watched Adam’s gaze shamelessly rake up and down her body before their eyes lock again.

“You look really… pretty, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Juliette says, the compliment warming her from the inside. “You don’t look half-bad yourself,” she returns. A deep chuckle rumbles from Adam’s chest as he shakes his head, a move that was familiar to her; it was the response she always provoked from him whenever she did something amusing or embarrassing. Or both.

Juliette hightails it away from the kitchen, internally cringing at her awkward words before taking another hearty drink from her now half-empty glass.

If the night was going to continue like this, she was definitely going to be refilling her cup multiple times before the party was over. She spies Evan still on the couch, now talking to Thomas and Kristy. She darts over before sitting down next to him, listening to their conversation, both in order to calm her spinning mind and to join in.

It’s only a few seconds until there is a small lull in the conversation and that is when Evan shoots her a glance, one eyebrow raised in a silent question that Juliette doesn’t need him to voice to understand.

“Don’t even ask,” she mutters into her cup. Evan just gently bumps his shoulder against hers in reply and that casual ease is what finally allows her to relax, focusing on the talk around her and reorienting herself to the party that was filled with her friends.

As the party continues into the night, it slowly dwindles down. People take off, heading back to their own homes and families. The later it gets, the more the party shifts, from its previous riot to a more relaxed get-together. Eventually, Juliette finds herself lingering with the remaining guests, all of them huddled around the firepit constructed on the sandy lakeshore out back.

Juliette takes another sip from her cup now filled with water as she relaxes, listening to the chatter of those around her, breathing in the fresh air of the pines and feeling the cool sand beneath her bare feet.

She is so focused on the present moment that she doesn’t even notice Adam’s approach, didn’t see the way his eyes softened at the sight of her. The sound of him clearing his throat causes Juliette’s eyes to fly open, meeting his gaze in the low firelight.

“Is this seat taken?” Adam asks, gesturing to the empty expanse of the wooden log she was perched on.

“Not at all,” comes her easy reply, scooting over to allow Adam enough room to sit down. And Juliette cannot suppress the shiver that runs through her when Adam’s knee knocks against hers.

They sit there is silence for a moment, just the crackling of fire and the chit-chat of the people around them being the only noise in the night until Juliette breaks the silence.

“So, I hear you got a dog?”

“Yeah, Banks. He’s a golden retriever.”

Adam continues to talk about his new puppy, even going to show Juliette videos of Banks and his adorable retriever smile. The icebreaker leads them to finally take the time to catch up on their respective lives; careers, pets – or lack thereof in Juliette’s case, homes, and all the rest. Almost every detail, from the menial to the major.

Throughout the conversation, Juliette notices a few pauses in Adam’s speech; that he sometimes takes more time to tell her things that don’t seem complicated. Like he’s hiding something. Like he doesn’t want her to see all of him.

She hates it. Because even though there was still a small flame of attraction for Adam, she would be fine with just having her best friend back – the one that was never afraid to tell her exactly how he felt.

Which is what leads her to press a little further.

“So, life’s been good in Winnipeg?” she asks, leaning closer to Adam to really hear his answer

“Yeah. I mean, haven’t gotten everything I wanted yet but it’s still pretty good,” he replies, shooting her a small smile. She doesn’t have time to pry more before Adam deflects the conversation back to her. “How about you?”

“Eh, still figuring things out. But I have plenty of time to decide where I want my life to go.”

“You were always really good at that; just letting things happen naturally.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Juliette laughs, shaking her head lightly. “I think I’m just really good at disguising my true emotions which makes it seem like I’m easy-going.”

“Really? How so?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Like… relationships or dating for example. It’s easy for me to flirt with people I’m not really interested in. It’s easy because I know I’m never going to let them get too close to me. I don’t have to try so hard to be the girl they want me to be because… I was never planning on being their girl anyway,” she explains, the lingering alcohol in her veins loosening her tongue. She looks at Adam, watching as her words sink in, his brow furrowing.

“Was that true back in high school?” Adam asks. “Like, when you were dating Pierce, you weren’t actually interested in him?”

A small shocked movement goes through Juliette, surprised that Adam even remembered the guy she dated back then. She doesn’t linger on the knowledge that Adam didn’t seem to forget, even after eight years, choosing instead to shrug her shoulders before replying.

“He wasn’t looking for anything serious. And it was nice to have someone.”

Juliette doesn’t tell him that back then, Pierce offered her more than just a warm bed. He was also a placeholder, someone to help her suppress her feelings towards Adam. In a way, she had been disguising herself for years.

Her eyes jump back to Adam, who is staring into the fire pit, seemingly deep in thought. Juliette waits for him to speak, even though every second that passes feels like torture and the anxiety starts to gnaw at the frayed edges of her mind. Eventually, Adam looks back at her and there it is – that pang in her heart.

Because he’s looking at her with those soft eyes. An expression that she had seen only occasionally back when they were kids. An expression she never thought she’d see again.

“You know you don’t have to try with me, right?”

Juliette hears the words but they don’t fully register, don’t fully connect at first. She lets out a somewhat dismissive laugh, nudging Adam’s thigh with her knee.

“Yeah, that’s why we’re friends,” she giggles, glancing away as she takes another sip of water. There’s another small pause and Juliette thinks that that is the end of it. But then she feels the warmth of Adam’s palm envelop her knee, the touch causing her eyes to snap back towards him. His expression had shifted – still soft but there is a hardened sense of earnestness underneath it.

“No, I mean, you don’t have to try.”

The words are repeated, nothing new said. But it’s the way he says it that causes Juliette’s heart to skip a beat. The chill from the lake disappears as the heat floods her body. But unfortunately, while the heat comes in full force, so does the anxiety.

Why was he saying this? Did he really mean it? Did he know how she felt? Does he feel the same?

These questions and more spin around in her mind, rendering her silent, her eyes just wide and still, staring at Adam. She barely registers the shift in his own expression, her silence no doubt causing some doubt of his own to enter his mind.

“Jules…”

“I don’t want to hear this.”

The thought comes over her in an instant, cutting through the rest of the static in her brain. Whether he was going to comfort her, or rescind his words, or try to explain them more, she didn’t want to hear it.

“I need to get more water,” she mumbles, the words fall past her lips in a jumble of syllables, barely coherent. But it didn’t really matter when they were accompanied by the speed in which she lifted herself up, retreating back into the now empty house and into the kitchen. And as she fills up her cup again, her confusion resurfaces.

What the fuck was happening?

Was Adam trying to pick her up? Is that what that meant? And if so, why was she so scared of it? That’s what she wanted. That’s the reason she wore this dress. The reason she was here.

So, if it worked, if her efforts paid off, why was she running away?

Because it had never worked before. Not with any of the guys in the past eight years. It didn’t even work with Adam back in high school. Sure, she didn’t tell him outright that she wanted more back then. But that didn’t mean that she didn’t drop hints to him, hoping that he would understand them and take that first step himself. But he remained oblivious for those last few months and then he was gone.

And of course, now – now after years of not talking – he finally reciprocates. And that was terrifying.

It was easy not to be wanted, to be casual, to be friends. Nothing was real; there was no risks and no consequences to unrequited feelings. But now… if she took that step with Adam, whatever tenuous strand of friendship that they were still clinging to would be irrevocably shifted and changed.

What the fuck was she going to do?

Juliette heaves a sigh, walking out of the kitchen, debating on what her next step should be. Should she take the leap? Pretend Adam’s words didn’t tangle her in knots like they did? Fully run away by hopping in her car without saying goodbye?

Perhaps unfortunately for her, Juliette doesn’t have the chance to make the final decision. Because when she enters the living room, looking up from her glass, Adam is standing there waiting for her.

“Jules,” he starts, taking a step towards her.

“Please stop calling me that.”

“Why?”

“No one ever calls me that,” Juliette explains, her voice dismissive as she takes another sip of her drink, still trying to settle the pounding of her heart.

“No one? Not one other person has ever called you Jules? A friend? A boyfriend? No one?” Adam asks, taking a step towards her after every single question until he is standing in front of her, his body towering over her.

“No one,” she confirms, her voice faltering with the nerves still thrumming through her body.

“Only me?”

Juliette takes a deep breath, steeling herself for the words she was about to speak, knowing that they would be more of a confession than anything else she could possibly say. It takes a moment before her hazel eyes open, connecting to him.

“That nickname has only ever been for you.”

The words hang in the air between them and Juliette watches as they register on Adam’s face and her heart pangs when that soft, gentle smile appears on his face; a smile that was always reserved for her. Her heartbeat doesn’t settle when Adam’s hand lifts up to brush away the loose curl from Juliette’s forehead, his finger twirling around the strand before placing it behind her ear. His fingers don’t stray far as they move to brush along her jawline and she knows Adam can see the goosebumps his touch causes.

“What else is only mine?” Adam questions, his voice dropping impossibly deeper as his face moves closer towards Juliette’s.

“Do you really have to ask?”

“I need you to say it, Jules. Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

This was the moment. There was more delaying, no time for hesitation. It was time for a decision. One that felt impossible for Juliette to make. But then Adam’s thumb brushes against her cheek, pulling her attention away from her thoughts and back to him.

“Don’t overthink it, Jules. It’s okay,” he whispers, his voice as delicate as his touch. “You don’t have to try with me, remember?”

It’s those words that cause that last wall to come crashing down, a shuddering breath running through Juliette. She closes her eyes, digging deeply for the strength to speak the truth that she had known for a long time.

“I am, Adam. Only yours. I think I always have been.”

Juliette’s response is enough for Adam to finally close the gap between them, his lips coming to press against hers. And even though Juliette could see the kiss coming, the feeling of it – the reality of it – still made her almost drop her glass.

Because Adam was kissing her. He was actually kissing her.

It’s Juliette that deepens the kiss, pushing up on her toes to press her body closer to Adam, relishing the groan that escapes him as his hands fly to her hips in order to keep her body pinned to his. Somehow, Juliette manages to find some flat surface nearby to set down her cup and as soon as the cheap plastic is out of her hands, they fly up to tangle in Adam’s hair, kisses never ceasing.

It feels like an eternity before Adam finally pulls away from her and Juliette’s eyes reconnect with his, registering the dark black of his pupils almost swallowing the bright blue of his irises.

There aren’t any words spoken between the two of them as Adam steps back. There was no time to speak before he is taking her hand in his and leading her down the hallway. Juliette was still trying to piece her mind back together after the dizzying kiss that she doesn’t protest as Adam drags her along, doesn’t question when Adam leads her up the stairs and into the second-floor bathroom.

She definitely doesn’t complain when Adam locks the door behind him and pulls her back into his arms, their lips connecting again. Adam uses his strong body to push Juliette against the sink countertop, a chill rushing down her spine as the cool marble hits the back of her bare thighs.

Adam’s hands are all over her body, pulling her closer to him, pressing her frame against his. A gasp falls from Juliette when Adam’s hands cup the back of her legs, lifting her up onto the countertop with an ease that sends another rush of heat down to her core.

Eventually, Adam’s lips fall from her own and begin to move across her jawline, down the smooth expanse of her throat. Juliette can’t help the way her hips roll when Adam pauses against her neck, sucking a hickey into her pale skin with a fierceness that is exquisite in its sting. Adam moves again, his lips trailing down across her collarbones, dancing across the top of her cleavage, before he pulls away to flick his eyes back up to hers.

“What else is only for me, Jules?” he asks, reiterating the question that led them here. “Is this dress for me?”

There is no hesitancy as Juliette’s response comes in an empathetic nod of her head. A whine escapes her as Adam’s fingers deftly trace along the neckline and she can hear him moan at the sight of her nipples straining through the fabric.

“Only wore it so you could take it off,” Juliette murmurs, slightly shocked at how Adam was able to pull the truth from her so effortlessly. The only response Adam gives is a low chuckle, his hands moving up to momentarily play with the thin straps between his fingers before he oh so painstakingly slides them off her shoulders.

Juliette lets him pull the fabric down, exposing her bare chest to the harsh light of the bathroom, another groan falling from his lips at the sight of her.

“Fuck, you��re so beautiful,” he mutters before moving forward, his lips resuming their former place against her sternum, now free to roam further down. A soft moan escapes Juliette as Adam’s lips close around her nipple, teasing it and causing another involuntary roll of her hips. Adam pauses on her chest for a moment, to give both of her breasts an ample amount of attention before continuing to move his lips down, over the ridges of her ribs.

“What are you – ” Juliette attempts to ask as he sinks to his knees in front of her but the question is quickly cut off when Adam’s strong hands pull apart her thighs and his soft lips connect to the delicate skin.

“What do you think I’m doing?” he whispers again her inner thighs, lips slowly moving further up. “Tell me what else is mine, Jules.”

The shiver that runs through Juliette’s body is in response to Adam’s movements, her legs opening wider both to give him access and as a silent plea. If Adam notices, he doesn’t take the bait, his lips lingering just inches from where she wants him.

“What else?” he asks and a shuddering breath falls from Juliette as one of his hands sneaks up towards the soft grey cotton of her thong, the fabric flooding with her need as Adam presses a finger against her slit.

“Is this all for me?” he continues, his touch moving upwards to rub her clit, pulling a whine from Juliette as her hips jolt forwards once more. “Tell me Jules,” Adam softly demands, his movements never stopping. “What else is mine?”

“I am,” Juliette whispers, the words coming out shaky, not only due to the feeling of Adam’s fingers against her but also the lingering anxiety that laced itself between the syllables. Adam manages to hear that hesitancy within her voice and he tears himself away, looking up to lock his eyes with hers once more.

“I’m yours, Adam,” she continues, the gentle expression on his face calming her, allowing the truth to be spoken with ease. “All of me.”

Adam doesn’t give Juliette a verbal response but she can see the shift in his expression as he takes in her words, sees his lips uptick in a smile. He raises his body up slightly to allow Juliette to close the gap between them, pulling him into another kiss, her hands tangling in his hair once more. She moans into his mouth as she feels his hands sneaking underneath the hemline of her dress and finding the elastic waistband of her panties, pulling away from her lips as he pulls the fabric away from her core.

He shoots a quick smirk up at her before his large hands are pushing her thighs even further apart, the movement causing the bottom of her dress to slip up over her hips. Juliette barely has time to react before Adam’s head is ducking down again, his lips retracing their movement against her inner thighs until they finally, finally, connect with her core.

The sharp gasp that leaves Juliette’s mouth is the only sound that escapes as her hands tighten in his hair, pulling him impossibly deeper into her, an action that sends a chuckle rumbling from Adam’s chest, the vibration of it sending another jolt through Juliette.

The whines and moans only increase as Adam continues to move, his tongue dipping into her folds, groaning at her taste. His lips eventually wander up to wrap around her clit and the way he sucks, the way his tongue flicks over the sensitive bundle of nerves almost causes Juliette to come undone.

“Oh fuck,” Juliette moans, hips rolling up to chase Adam’s lips.

“Yeah? Just like that?” comes Adam’s questioning voice before he repeats the movement, another high-pitched whimper falling from Juliette. “Come on sweetheart. I want you to cum for me.”

His simple request and the repeated motion of his mouth against her is all it takes for that peak to come crashing over Juliette, thighs tightening around Adam’s head before his hands lift to hold them open as his mouth continues its movements, eagerly lapping up her release, the vibration of his own groans causing her orgasm to be prolonged.

The crest eventually subsides, leaving Juliette’s still exposed chest heaving as Adam’s lips move back to kiss at the apex of her thighs. But before the desire completely disappears, before Juliette is slammed back into the reality of where she was and what just happened, another moan is pulled past her lips as Adam’s hand sneaks between her legs, his fingers once again coming to press against her slit, this time unobstructed.

“Fuck Jules, you feel so fucking good,” he groans into her soft skin, a finger plunging into her core, the welcomed intrusion sending another flush of heat through her body, no doubt painting her chest a more mottled scarlet than before.

“Adam,” she whines, the hand still tangled in his hair tugging him upwards. He obliges, lifting himself off his knees but still keeps his hand between her thighs, one finger pumping into her core before he slides another in.

The moan that escapes from Juliette is swallowed quickly by Adam crashing his lips back to hers, kissing her deeply as he continues his movements. Juliette breaks away from the kiss when Adam curls his fingers within her, the motion causing him to graze over that one spot that had her seeing stars. Adam reads her reaction with ease and is smart enough to repeat the motion, causing another delectable moan to fall from her.

Juliette’s eyes jump down to stare at Adam’s arms, taking in the the way his veins became more prominent with every motion, her moans becoming erratic as Adam once again brings her closer and closer to her peak. Without thinking, the hand that had she had been using to support her body flew to wrap around Adam’s forearm, as if to silently beg him to keep it there. It was an additional bonus for her to feel his muscles flex as his fingers continued move within her.

“That’s right darling,” Adam sighs out, his breath hot against the shell of her ear. “Give me another one. Prove to me that you’re all mine.”

His sudden possessiveness is what drives Juliette over the edge again, her second orgasm crashing over her. The feeling of her clenching around Adam’s fingers pulls a groan from him, one he muffles by burying his mouth into the junction of Juliette’s neck and shoulder, his lips and teeth marking her once more.

It takes a moment for both of them to catch their breath before Adam is pulling away, his hands and body retreating from Juliette’s. He doesn’t stray far, only taking one step back and Juliette can’t help but bask in the way his eyes rake over her still exposed body.

Juliette appraises him similarly, eyes jumping down to the bulge in his jeans. That sight renews her hunger as she slides off the countertop, not bothering to adjust anything before sinking to her knees in front of Adam. Her hands crawl up his thick thighs towards his belt buckle. She barely has the chance to start to undo the leather when Adam’s hands reach down and halt her movements.

“No Jules,” Adam says. “Not here.”

“But I want to,” she replies, looking up at him, her eyes still blown wide in pure need.

Adam reaches down to cup her face and Juliette leans into his touch, his large palm almost covering her entire cheek. Adam holds out his other hand to her and there is only a moment before Juliette places her hand in his. He pulls her off the tile floor, not waiting even a millisecond before pulling her into him again, lips crashing together. Juliette wraps her arms around him, reveling in the way he touches her and kisses her until she feels drunk. Adam eventually breaks away, his warm breath fanning over her cheeks.

“Let me take you home, Jules.”

Juliette response is an assured nod, desperation still fueling her actions and Adam can’t stop the small laugh that escapes him. Juliette feels his hands moving against her but this time, it’s to pull the hem of her dress down, covering her. She pulls the top half back over her chest and reaches for the denim jacket, oh so carelessly left on the bathroom counter. But when she pulls the fabric back over her shoulders, her keys fall out of the pocket and onto the tile with a clatter, reminding her of a small snag in their plan.

“Wait, we came here separately,” she says, halting Adam at the doorway. “And I’m not about to try and explain why I’m leaving my car here.”

“Right. Fuck, um,” Adam says, pausing with his hand on the handle, his free hand coming to run through his hair. “Do you want to lead the way?” he asks, looking back at her.

“Back to my place?”

“Yeah,” he replies. “I mean, only if you want to.”

Juliette smiles, slowly walking over to him. She slides between him and the still closed door before lifting herself up to connect their lips again. Adam happily melts into the kiss, pressing her against the solid wood. Juliette lets her hands wander down, once again dancing over Adam’s belt buckle before dipping a little lower and she can’t help the satisfied feeling that rushes through her when Adam breaks from the kiss with a groan as she gently palms him through his jeans.

“If we leave now, we can be there in 15,” she says, not halting her movements as she captures Adam’s lips in hers again. This time, Adam voluntarily pulls away, reaching down to stop her hands before grinning back at her.

“You gonna break the speed limit?”

“Are you?”

Adam’s immediately grabs Juliette’s hips, pulling her into his body before lifting her feet off the tile, spinning her away from the door. She gasps at the ease in which he could maneuver her, the heat once again moving through her body at the possibilities his strength could provide as the night went on. Adam leans in to press a quick kiss onto her lips before moving back, his eyes heavy as he looks down at her.

“I don’t want to be away from you any longer than I have to,” he says, turning the handle and holding the door open for Juliette. She steps through, looking back at Adam with a mischievous smirk.

“Just don’t get pulled over.”

*~*~*~*~*

The morning sunlight shines through the cracks in Juliette’s white curtains, hitting her closed eyes. The concentrated beam causes her eyelashes to flutter open, softly groaning as she burrows deeper into her sheets. As she does, the weight of another shifts and Juliette’s eyes open to see Adam sleeping peacefully, the sun causing his hair to alight in a beautiful auburn.

Last night…

It was everything that Juliette could’ve wanted; everything she could’ve dreamt it to be. Adam made her feel… everything. All those thoughts and emotions that she had been holding back for ages, he brought forth with the touch of his hands on her skin.

He made her feel desired. He told her as much. And she had told him that she was his.

But words said in the heat of passion may not hold in the harsh light of day.

They needed to talk. Actually sit down and have a conversation about everything that had happened, every word said.

The conviction in her mind makes Juliette sit upright in bed, the covers falling from her body as she stretches her arms over her head. Perhaps she would make breakfast, or order in, or something. Food always seemed to help hard conversations become a little easier.

Juliette swings her legs over the edge of the mattress and right as her feet hit the floor, she hears the vibration of Adam’s phone rattling against the wood of her nightstand. She quickly circles the bed, intending to hit the lock button to silence what she assumes to be an alarm, as to not disturb him. Let him rest a little longer. But when the screen comes into view, she sees that it is not an alarm, but a Facetime call attempting to come through.

And when Juliette’s brain registers the picture and caller ID on the screen, her heart stops beating.

She doesn’t move, just stares at the phone as it continues to ring, memorizing the face of the girl wrapped in Adam’s arms in the image plastered on the screen; the blonde of her hair, her smile. The two hearts framing her caller ID.

The phone eventually silences but before Juliette can take another breath, a text message pops up.

Betty You’re probably still asleep. I forget that you’re in a different time-zone. Hope you had fun at the party! Call me whenever you wake up! Love you! Message received May 27th at 8:41am

Juliette doesn’t move; her feet feeling like stone weights, her heart collapsing in on itself like a dying star. She is so stuck in the moment where everything she thought she knew shifted on its axis that she barely registers the rustling of sheets next to her, the gentle groan of Adam rousing from his sleep.

“Morning,” Adam mumbles and Juliette can hear him turn his body towards her. But she doesn’t look at him, just keeps her eyes locked to the phone, her mind racing with the truth that Adam withheld.

He lied to her. He made her an accomplice in his infidelity. Turned her into something she never wanted to be. The temptress, the mistress, the other woman.

“Jules?”

There’s that fucking nickname again, falling from his lips and Juliette doesn’t want to acknowledge the ache in her heart when she hears him say her name like that. Because she knows that she would do anything he asked if he would just say it again.

She clenches her jaw and finally tears her eyes away from the nightstand, moving to look at Adam laying in the messy sheets. And when her hazel eyes connect to his, she wishes she could erase the feeling of desire that comes rushing to the surface.

Because he is not hers to want.

She knows that now.

“Who’s Betty?”

The words echo around her bedroom and Juliette can feel them hanging in the air as she watches Adam’s brow furrow before the realization drops. And he looks as if he’s been shot.

“Good,” she thinks. He should feel disgusted for what he did. For lying to her. For leading her on.

“Jules, I can explain,” Adam begins but Juliette cuts him off with a scoff.

“You can explain? Explain what, Adam? That you –”

Juliette spins away from him, her hand coming up to her mouth. She didn’t want to say the words, didn’t want to speak the truth into existence. But there was no avoiding this.

“Who is she?” she asks again, not bothering to turn around to face Adam again, instead choosing to stare out the window at the rising sun, not caring if the light caused her eyes to water. The tears would’ve come eventually. Better to blame it on something else instead of the feeling of her heart shattering.

“She’s my girlfriend,” Adam confesses, his voice soft with defeat.

Another scoff falls from Juliette as her lips purse, her head slightly shaking. Her arms cross in front of her stomach as she continues to look forward. She tries to ignore the sound of Adam sliding out from underneath her sheets, the gentle sound of his footsteps crossing the short distance between them, the heat of his body behind her. She ignores it until she can’t, when his hands slide across her arms before stopping over hers, holding her in his embrace.

She should push him off her, throw him out of her house and her life. But she doesn’t. She doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, barely breathes.

She just waits. Waits for him to speak. To tell her. Tell her what exactly, she isn’t sure. Because she knows that any word out of his mouth would just plunge the knife deeper.

The silence lasts for a long moment, neither of them brave enough to make the first move. Until Juliette feels Adam’s hands shift, moving to her biceps, gently gripping them.

“Jules, look at me. Please.”

She tries to resist the pull of him, not just the physical pull but the tug of her heart, begging her to listen even though her mind knew better. Eventually, she turns, her eyes closing, wanting to hold off on staring into those beautiful blue eyes.

It’s the gentle touch of his fingers against her chin that finally forces her eyes to flutter open. She can see his expression shift as he registers the tears on her cheeks and the blankness in her gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he says and Juliette can’t help the small huff of laughter that escapes as her eyes move away for a quick moment before coming back to his.

“For what? Sorry for what?”

“For not telling you,” Adam begins and – in a reaction that was long overdue – Juliette feels her sad numbness finally shift into anger.

“You’re damn right you should’ve told me!” she says, tearing her arms away from him and pacing to the other side of her bedroom. “What, did you think I would be okay with this? Do you think I wanted this?”

“You wanted this last night,” Adam mutters and the words sink in, causing the fire in Juliette to blaze higher, another scoff falling from her lips.

“Don’t you dare try to pin this on me. I’m not the one who fucked someone else while they’re girlfriend was waiting for them two provinces away!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that! Stop apologizing to me like that’s going to fix everything. What the fuck were you thinking, Adam?”

“You want to know what I was thinking?” he says, turning towards her with a fierceness in his eyes that makes Juliette take a step back. “I was thinking; here’s this girl that I had been friends with for years, that looks more beautiful than she did the last day I saw her, and that looks like she wants me just as much as I want her.”

It takes a moment for his words to break through the fire that surrounded Juliette but when they finally do sink in, it smothers the blaze as quickly as it came.

Because it feelslike he is telling her the truth. The words he spoke… they don’t feel hollow. They don’t feel like words he spewed just to assuage her, to calm her. They feel real. But then again, so did last night.

Juliette doesn’t respond, just stays in place, letting her silence stretch until Adam takes it as a sign to continue.

“Betty and I…” Adam starts, the sentence trailing off as he tries to put his thoughts in order. “I care about her. I do. And I know it might not seem like it based on, well, everything. But when I saw you again… I don’t know if I can explain it. Something hit me, like I was seeing you for the first time.”

Adam takes a step towards Juliette, his footsteps delicate against the hardwood of her bedroom floor. He approached her cautiously, as if she was a wounded animal backed into a corner. Which she very well might be, based on how razor-thin close she was to shattering.

“I thought that I would die if I didn’t have you.”

Juliette can feel the tears start to well in her eyes and she tries to push them down. But it is futile as Adam’s voice continues to gently call, his hand moving to reach out to her.

“Jules. My Jules.”

“Don’t.”

“Please.”

“Adam… don’t,” she repeats, the words growing thick with all the emotions that she had suppressed for so long. She feels the first teardrop fall the second that Adam grabs her hand, his touch pulling an involuntary reaction from her, like it did last night underneath her bedsheets.

“It’s always been you. I’m sorry it took me this long to see it.”

His confession finally causes the damn to break open and it is purely instinctive, the way she collapses into his outstretched arms, her tear-stained cheeks pressing against his still bare chest.

Juliette isn’t sure about the meaning behind her tears, her mind too jumbled to make sense of anything except the feeling of Adam’s strong arms holding her tight. He doesn’t speak; he just lets the emotions pour out, his lips burrowed in her hair.

There is no denying how wrong this situation is. Nothing would erase the newfound discovery of Adam’s girlfriend waiting in Winnipeg, waiting for a call back. But right now, Juliette can’t seem to find it in herself to care.

Because although she isn’t sure what is true… this, here, being in Adam’s arms feels right.

And if it feels this good, how could it possibly be wrong?

Eventually, Juliette’s tears run out, leaving her only with small sniffles and red eyes. Adam is still holding her, one of his hands running calming circles against her spine. It takes a moment for her to gather enough to strength to push away from him, although she doesn’t go far, content to stay encased in his arms.

“So,” she speaks, brushing away any lingering wetness from her cheeks before looking up towards Adam. “What are we going to do?”

Her heart shouldn’t leap at the sight of a grin breaking out on Adam’s face. But like every reaction that Adam pulls from her, she isn’t sure that she would’ve been able to stop it.

“What do you want me to do? Or need me to do?”

“I mean, breaking up with your girlfriend would be a good start,” Juliette says, trying to infuse some light-hearted teasing into her words. An ease that is quickly squashed by Adam’s response.

“I can’t. Not now.”

“But you said –” she starts, her eyebrow furrowing in confusion before Adam cuts her off, an explanation waiting on his lips.

“I know. And I promise, you are the only one I want, I swear. But I do care about Betty. I can’t just break it off with her over a phone call while she’s a thousand kilometers away. That wouldn’t be fair.”

“So, what does that mean for us, now? Am I just supposed to go on with my life after everything you told me? Are we supposed to go back to how it was before yesterday; when I tried to forget you and you did the same?”

“I never forgot about you,” Adam says, his head ducking down to kiss her but Juliette turns her head before he can.

“You know what I mean, Adam,” she says, sending him a serious look indicating that she wasn’t about to let this go that easily. Adam sighs, shaking his head while shooting her a small smile.

“Always so stubborn,” he murmurs. “There is no way we are going back to never talking. I’m not letting you go that easily, especially now that I finally have you.”

“So, what are we going to do?”

Another sigh escapes Adam’s chest as he looks up towards the ceiling in thought. Juliette waits patiently, wanting him to take the reins in this situation. Especially considering that this… thing was his idea.

“I think it’s best that we keep this,” he says, pulling her closer to emphasize the meaning behind his words, “private. There’s no way I’m not spending another night in your bed for the rest of the summer.”

The sultry cadence of his words causes a rush of heat to rise to Juliette’s cheeks, her head turning away shyly. Or attempting to turn away before Adam catches her chin, pulling her attention back towards his.

“But we can obviously hang out together. Like we did back in high school. No reason that what we do behind these four walls would change how we act outside of them. How’s that sound?”

The question is directed towards Juliette and she lets the proposition sink in, tearing it over in her head. She would be lying if she said she didn’t have reservations. The proposal was an affair – there was no other word that better defined it. But Adam didn’t frame it like that. It was a necessary but temporary situation. Nothing more.

Juliette isn’t sure what makes her shake her head in agreement. If it was desire or fear or desperation. But she doesn’t get a chance to examine the driving emotion further. Because as soon as she gives her silent answer, that smile appears on Adam’s face, the fingers underneath her chin lifting her head up to meet his eyes.

“I promise Jules,” he whispers against her lips. “Just a few months. And then I can be yours completely.”

And when he seals his vow with a kiss to her lips, the only thing that Juliette can put into words is how good it feels to have him right now.

*~*~*~*~*

The summer drifts by and sometimes, Juliette finds her mind drifting with it.

Her and Adam continue their affair. Juliette hates thinking about it like that but there was no other way to describe it. She knew about Betty, about the girl waiting back in Winnipeg for Adam, about the girl who had claimed the spot of partner in Adam’s life long before she did. Juliette doesn’t like to think about Betty though, often banishing any thought of her from her mind. Because thinking about Betty would mean acknowledging her own role in this – the other woman.

But it’s easy to forget whenever her and Adam are alone.

Adam is intoxicating: the way he touches her, the way he kisses her. The hours she spends with him are exhilarating; stolen moments in his car, kisses shared in secrecy behind garden fences and in secluded hallways, evenings in her room with their hips moving in tandem, mornings when Adam dips beneath her covers and looks up at her, grinning like devil from between her thighs.

The voice in the back of Juliette’s mind remains, occasionally speaking up, telling her this is going to end – badly. That she is walking a treacherous path and eventually, she’s going to pay for the missteps that she is making.

However, that voice gets weaker and weaker as the summer goes on.

Because the way Adam treats Juliette… it’s not temporary. Or at least, it doesn’t feel like it is temporary. He doesn’t act like she is some summer fling, something to illicit excitement for a few months and then abandon as soon as the weather turns cold.

No, Adam treats her like this is it, like this is the one romance that he always wanted.

It was dangerous, falling for him again. It left her with nothing but heartache the last time, pining after him: the one that got away.

But then he came back. Fate brought him back to her and he was here now. He was next to her and he was telling her all the things she dreamed about hearing. His sweet words drowned out everything in her mind that was screaming at her, telling her this was wrong.

Because how could it be?

When she woke up next to him, watching the sunlight dance over his skin…

When he wrapped his arms around her and held her close…

When he told her that she was the only one for him…

How could any of that be wrong?

Yes, there were moments where she didn’t want to leave the comfort of the sheets that she and Adam were tangled in. Because leaving the privacy of her bedroom walls meant pretending that he didn’t send a fire burning through her with every look, every touch. And sometimes, she got tired of pretending. Juliette wanted to be able to hold his hand while they were walking down the street, wanted to kiss him in front of their friends, wanted to show the world that he was hers.

But Adam always soothed her, told her that this was the only part of their summer romance that was temporary. She just had to wait a little longer. Just until he saw Betty in person.

Just a few more months.

*~*~*~*~*

The cool breeze blowing in from the lake ruffled Juliette’s hair, the curls still damp and her skin still warm. Adam always loved to kiss the freckles that appeared on her cheeks after the hours she spent in the sun and Jules loved the feeling of his lips on her skin.

She wanted to feel them again.

They had spent the day at the lake with their friends and it was fun and enjoyable. It sent Juliette back to those high school summers where everything was simpler. Sometimes she still found herself wanting to go back there because maybe then she would be braver. Maybe she would’ve told Adam how she felt before he went away.

Juliette feels the warmth of a palm appear on the bare skin of her thigh and her eye dart from the passing woods to Adam’s profile, sitting behind the wheel as he drives her back to his house.

Maybe she could’ve been braver. But he was here now and that was all that mattered.

They had to pretend for the entire day, keeping a friendly distance from each other, only giving into the rising temptation in the backseat of Adam’s car parked in a secluded spot by the lakeshore after all their friends had left. Juliette still wanted more, not quite satisfied. Sometimes it didn’t feel like enough. But these stolen moments… they were enough right now.

And every touch Adam placed against her skin was weighted with the promise of something more to come as soon as the night took hold.

But they would have to pretend for a little longer – long enough to sit through a dinner with Adam’s mother, father, and brother Joel, along with Elsie and Evan. Just like old times.

Juliette is snapped out of her reverie by Adam pulling into his driveway, putting the car in park before smiling over to her.

“Ready?” he asks. Juliette lets out a hum, her eyes darting towards the front door, knowing as soon as they stepped over that threshold, their masks of ‘just friends’ would have fall back into place. Her eyes return to Adam, a playful glint reflecting in them.

“I don’t know if I want to let you go yet.”

Adam doesn’t hesitate in responding to her stalling by leaning over the center console, his hand coming to grip the back of her neck and pulling her close, pressing his lips against hers. She willingly surrenders to the kiss, pushing her body towards him, her hand lifting to grip his wrist and hold him in place. Juliette breaks the kiss, pulling away before nuzzling her head into Adam’s palm, looking up at him with her best bedroom eyes.

The shudder runs through her body as she hears Adam exhale, her lips twitching upwards in delight, loving the response that she could pull from him.

“We’ll stay for two hours, tops,” Adam says, his own darkening eyes dancing over her frame and Juliette can almost see the pictures flashing through Adam’s mind, her own body heating with anticipation.

“I’m holding you to that,” she whispers before fully removing herself from Adam’s touch, opening the car door and slipping out. She doesn’t wait for him as she walks up the front porch steps, swinging open the door and kicking off her slides before following the sounds of conversation, leading her to the kitchen.

When she rounds the corner, her eyes gloss over the scene quickly, noticing Elsie standing next to Adam’s mom by the stove and Evan talking to his dad Dave over on the couch. Juliette is about halfway into the room when the back door opens and Joel walks in, holding an empty platter and tongs with Elsie following closely behind him.

“Wait, Elsie?”

If Elsie was outside then who was –

“Adam! Guess who decided to pop in unexpectedly.”

It’s his mom Elaine that speaks and Juliette knows that behind her, Adam has just stepped into the kitchen. And when the blonde that was standing next to Elaine turns, the blonde that Juliette originally mistook for Elsie, there was no mistaking who it was.

Her face had haunted Juliette even since that morning in late May.

“Betty?”

Hearing her name fall from Adam’s lips feels like a gut-punch but Juliette forces herself to turn and watch as Betty jogs over to him. She tries not flinch when Betty jumps into his arms and Adam easily lifts her up. And it is only a moment before she presses her lips against his.

Juliette barely registers the scattered clapping coming from Adam’s family and their friends over the sentimental reunion and she shakes herself out of her shock just enough to politely join in. Her eyes stay glued onto Adam as he and Betty untangle, the smile pulled across his face, his blue eyes shining bright.

It looks so convincing.

“Surprise!” Betty giggles, holding her hands up in joy. “Miss me?”

“Of course, I did,” he replies, his hands resting on her hips pulling her into another hug, Betty’s head pressed against his chest. It is only then does his eyes dart over towards Juliette and she tries to keep her face as neutral as possible, not wanting to reveal any emotion that would complicate this now dangerous situation they found themselves in.

“How are you here?” Adam asks as Betty pulls away.

“A work trip. Not here, up in Edmonton but I decided to take an extended weekend to come surprise you.”

“Well, consider me very surprised,” Adam says and Juliette turns away as he leans into kiss Betty again.

She had to get out of this kitchen.

So, in the most casual movements that she could muster, Juliette walks over to the backdoor, pushing it open and wandering onto the Lowry’s expansive deck. She spies Joel standing in front of the grill, flipping the chicken breasts for dinner. Juliette goes to him for no real reason except for maybe distraction.

“Hey Julie,” Joel says once she stops next to the grill.

“Hey Joel. You got stuck with grill duty?”

“Looks like it. Dad didn’t want to today and you and Adam weren’t back in enough time so, here I am.”

“So, I’m partially responsible for your predicament?”

“Depends on if you were the reason Adam was late,” Joel jokes, looking over to Juliette with a smile on his face.

Juliette has to push down the heat that threatens to rise as the image of her and Adam in the backseat of his car with his hand between her thighs, flashes through her mind. Instead, she just laughs before her attention is pulled by Elaine and Dave walking outside, followed closely by Elsie and Evan. Adam and Betty appear last and she tries not to feel hurt at the sight of their hands intertwined.

She turns away, looking for another distraction, moving to the cooler placed in the corner of the deck. Juliette manages to fish out a beer and pops it open. But before she can even take a swig, she hears Adam’s voice sound from behind her.

“Hey Jules,” he says and she spins around and comes face-to-face with him and Betty. “Have you met Betty yet?”

Juliette once again must force a different expression on her face, one that disguises her true emotions (like the feeling of wanting to glare daggers in Adam’s direction) before turning to Betty with a smile on her face.

“I don’t think I have,” she says lightly, holding out her hand. “Nice to finally meet you, Betty.”

“Finally meet me? Oh no, please don’t tell me Adam has told you everything about me.” Betty laughs, taking Juliette’s hand.

“Well, we’ve been best friends since high school so he usually tells me everything,” Juliette explains, her eyes darting back to Adam knowing that he understands the insinuation behind her words. “But he’s only painted the best picture of you.”

“That’s good to hear. Want to try to make a good impression, y’know?”

“Totally understandable.”

Their conversation is interrupted by Adam’s dad calling everyone over to their outdoor dining table, ready to serve dinner. And as they all take their places, Juliette finds herself sitting next to Elsie and right across from Adam and Betty. Which means that all throughout dinner, Juliette is forced to watch the two of them.

She has to watch Adam with his arm so casually thrown over Betty’s chair, has to watch his head occasionally dip down to kiss her. She has to sit through a dinner filled with everyone talking about Betty and Adam: about their house in Winnipeg, about their golden retriever Banks, about their life together. An entire life separate from the world of this little Calgary lakeside neighborhood.

A life completely separated from her.

And when Juliette listens to Adam, hears his whispered words to Betty that float over to her on the late summer breeze… they sound so similar to the words that he whispered to her those early mornings, safe beneath her sheets.

Sometimes, Juliette focuses her attention onto Betty, watching as she effortlessly becomes a part of the moment, how she is so at ease with Adam’s family, and how she manages to make even Elsie and Evan laugh. And how in love she is with Adam.

Dinner ends as the night cools and after a few more drinks and a little more conversation, Juliette finds herself walking out the front door with Evan and Elsie close behind, catching a ride back to her apartment with them instead of Adam. For obvious reasons.

And it’s only a few moments until Juliette is curled up in the backseat of Elsie’s convertible, the night air chilling her to the bone as she watches the scenery pass her by, only slightly listening to the conversation being had by Elsie and Evan in the front. Until she hears Adam’s name.

“So, Adam’s girlfriend. What do we think?” Elsie probes, her question dancing on the air.

“She pretty cool. Although it seems kind of weird that this is the first time we’re meeting her but it feels like she’s already met Adam’s family,” Evan muses.

“Yeah, but that’s probably because they go to Winnipeg more than we do. Most likely they met her there along with the rest of Adam’s Winnipeg friends.”

“So, we’re just the less important hometown friends?”

“Well, maybe you are, Evan,” she teases before her twin brother smacks her arm. Juliette can’t stop the smile that tugs at her lips at their antics, a smile that is matched by Evan as he turns to face her.

“What do you think, Julie?”

“About you being less important? I suppose it’s debatable,” she laughs, joining in on Elsie’s teasing.

“No,” Evan says rolling his eyes, still hating whenever the two of them team up against him. “What do you think about Betty?”

Juliette’s smile falters slightly as she turns her eyes back out into the dark forest surrounding the street.

“She seems really nice,” she offers quietly, her voice almost lost to the wind. Juliette can hear a small hum emulate from Evan before he returns to face forward.

The conversation ends there, the rest of the ride to her apartment silent except for the thanks she gives Elsie and Evan when they arrive.

And when she collapses into her bed that suddenly feels too big for just her, she turns towards the empty side, picturing Adam next to her.

*~*~*~*~*

The next thing Juliette registers is her jolting awake from a deep sleep, with the feeling of bile building in her throat, the early morning light filtering through her windows.

She didn’t remember falling asleep. She had no recollection of when she finally drifted off after hours of tossing and turning. But she did remember her dream.

She was standing in her bedroom, separate from her body, watching over the scene like a fly on the wall. Her body was in her bed and Adam was next to her, facing her, that gentle expression on his face as he looked into her eyes. His hand brushed the hair away from her face and Juliette could hear him whisper those sweet words; telling her that she was the only one he wanted, telling her that he loved her.

Juliette watched as he leaned in to kiss her, his hand tangling in her hair, pulling her body close.

It was a familiar scene, one that had played out almost every night they were together in the past two months. But as Juliette continued to watch, the scene began to shift. The body lying next to Adam starts to change: her curls straighten, her dark hair begins to lighten, the freckles on her skin disappear. And when Adam breaks the kiss, the girl below him isn’t Juliette.

It’s Betty, looking up at Adam with her beautiful brown eyes.

Juliette couldn’t look away, watching as Adam brushes back her blonde hair before whispering that he missed her. That two months away from her felt like torture. That he thought he would die if he didn’t have her in his arms.

The same thing he told Juliette that first morning.

She watched the soft smile break across Betty’s face and Juliette had to watch as Adam leaned in, kissing Betty once again.

Juliette’s hands rub across her face, attempting to scrub the dream from her mind. But she knows it is an impossible task, knows she will never be able to forget it.

That dream was a sharp shock back to reality, an upfront confrontation of the situation she found herself in. The situation that she had perpetuated.

This was what Adam was doing to her. This was what they both were doing to Betty.

Adam’s girlfriend was no longer a face on the screen. Her name was no longer something said in passing. She was here. She was real. And the truth would destroy her.

But what was the truth?

Was it the life that Adam and Betty had built together in Winnipeg? Or was it every moment that he and Juliette shared?

Juliette had believed Adam meant every word that he said to her. Back then, when this whole affair first started, she had to believe it. It was the only hope she could hold on to. But she never stopped to think that perhaps that was all it was – hope.

Enough to sustain her but not enough to feed her. No where close to what she actually needed in order to survive.

That voice in the back of her mind – the one that had been silenced as the summer went on – was back in full-force now, screaming at her. Telling her that this would be a disaster, no matter who Adam chose.

If he chose Juliette, Betty would be devastated. The life that she had built in Winnipeg would be destroyed and was Juliette that heartless to not feel a shred of sympathy for the girl whose life she was complicit is ruining?

But if he chose Betty…

Juliette pushes the voice back, silencing it before it could expand on that possibility. Because that couldn’t be real. Adam couldn’t take back everything he had said to Juliette, he wouldn’t. And call her selfish, call her a bitch, call her whatever you wanted to, but Adam was hers.

And he would prove it to her.

Betty was here, in person. Adam could talk to her face-to-face. It was exactly what he had told Juliette to wait for, to be patient for. And the universe blessed them by allowing the moment to happen here, in Calgary where Juliette was, instead of in a city two provinces away.

All Juliette had to do was wait a little longer. And then Adam would be hers. Completely.

Just like he promised.

*~* 3 days later *~*

She’s gone. Can I come over? Message received July 30th at 5:28pm

Door’s unlocked. Message sent July 30th at 5:36pm

*~*~*~*~*

Juliette hears her front door open and it takes all her willpower not to move from her spot on her bed. She hears Adam lock the deadbolt before his assured footsteps move through her apartment towards her bedroom. It only takes a minute until he appears in the doorway, his eyes landing on Juliette sitting on top of her sheets, back against the pillows.

The way his face softens when he sees her makes Juliette’s heart flutter and before she can blink, his long strides cross her room until his shins hit the edge of her mattress. Adam leans forward, his hands reaching out and Juliette feels his callused fingers wrap around her ankles. A gasp is torn out of her mouth as Adam grips her tight, pulling her down the bed towards him. His broad body covers her and he crashes his lips onto hers, throwing her legs around his hips.

Juliette’s reaction is instinctual, following Adam’s lead, legs pulling his hips down to hers, her hands coming to tangle in his hair. The kisses that pass between them are fierce, desperate, and Juliette can feel the desire pouring from Adam as his hands constantly move across her frame.

They move in-sync, bodies rolling against one another as Adam’s lips drift away, moving to her neck as his hands sneak under her t-shirt. Small moans are all that Juliette can muster as Adam’s lips continue to move across her skin, the feeling of his touch after three days of no-contact making her head spin.

A sharp gasp rips from Juliette’s chest as Adam gently bites her throat before moving over the slight indents, marking her. Claiming her once again.

But was she his to claim?

That thought is what jolts Juliette back to the issue that still lingered unresolved between them. The issue of Adam’s girlfriend. And the remembrance of Betty – of her blonde hair and deep brown eyes – crashes over Juliette like a cold morning dip in the lake, dousing the fire of passion that had been steadily building.

“Adam,” she says, her voice a little breathless. Adam does not stop, his lips still moving against her skin and Juliette tries not to get lost in the feeling. “Adam,” she tries again, placing her hands on his shoulders in an attempt to push him away. “Adam! Stop.”

Juliette finally manages to shove Adam off her, her eyes connecting with his as she takes in his puzzled stare, his hands dropping down to rest on her hips as he remains standing over her. The way his hair is mussed and how his pupils are blown wide causes an ache in Juliette that she silences, keeping it at bay until she has the answers that she needs.

“Is it over?” she asks him, propping herself up on her elbows, staring him down.

“Is what over?”

“You and Betty. Is it done?”

Juliette watches as Adam’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, his mouth opening and closing like a fish and his reluctance is what causes Juliette’s frustration to take over.

“Jesus Christ, Adam did you break up with her or not?” she snaps, pushing Adam’s hands off her body as she sits upright, Adam retreating a few steps back, either in shock or politeness, giving her space. The answer seems to be shock when Adam speaks again.

“What are you talking about?”

“What do you mean ‘what am I talking about’? She was here, Adam. You were face to face with her. You could breakup with her in person. Isn’t that what you were waiting for?”

“Jules,” Adam starts again, moving back towards his, his hands outstretched. “I –”

“No,” Juliette says, lifting herself up off the bed and placing a hand on his chest, stopping his forward momentum. “You don’t get to avoid this. Did you or did you not break up with her?”

Juliette can feel Adam’s chest raise under her palm in a sigh, his eyes turning away from her to stare out the window. The pause continues to stretch between them and because of that, because of how long it is taking Adam to tell her the truth, Juliette already knows what the truth is before he says it.

“I couldn’t do that to her.”

However, even though she knew those were going to be the words he spoke, it didn’t mean they hurt any less.

“Why not?” Juliette asks, feeling the cracks in her heart start to form as she stares at Adam, trying to decipher his expression, trying to see into his mind and find out what he was thinking.

“Because… she was only here for a weekend. And if I told her, she would have had to go back to our house and pack up and do that all herself. Jules, it would be cruel.”

“Oh, so you want to hold her hand through it all?” Juliette scoffs and it’s her anger that pulls Adam’s eyes back to her. “What makes you think she would even want you around? Maybe, if you broke up with her, she would welcome the distance. Especially when you told her about me and you.”

“She can’t know.”

“She can’t know what?”

“She can’t know I’m breaking up with her because of you.”

“Because of me?” Juliette asks, her voice incredulous and it is only then do the floodgates open. “Oh, okay, so, this is my fault now?”

“Jules, you know I didn’t mean it like that,” Adam tries to explain taking another step towards her but Juliette holds up her hand again while taking a step away from him.

“No, no, I see how it is. I’m the one that lead you into temptation and now I’m the one demanding that you break up with your girlfriend. Is that right?” Juliette rants, the tears building steadily, her voice getting thick.

“Jules – ”

“Because she’s all yours. She’s the one you want. You would die if you didn’t have her, right? Because it’s always been Betty. Hasn’t it?”

There is a pause as Juliette lets her words sink in, lets Adam register and recognize them. The words that he whispered in this same bedroom every morning he woke up here. And when Juliette sees that realization wash over Adam’s face, she doesn’t even try to stop the small satisfied huff of laughter that escapes. Even though it ends up sounding more like a sob as the tears finally start falling down her freckled cheeks.

“Or is that me? Are those the things that you told me? Back when you promised that all I had to do was be patient and then you would be mine completely,” she continues, not bothering to brush the tears away. “You think that breaking up with Betty is cruel? What do you think this is? What do you think about what you’re doing to me?”

Juliette holds Adam’s stare, almost forcing him to look at her, to see how much he was hurting her. She wanted him to know there was no hiding from this, there was no running from this. This is what he did and now he had to face it.

“You can’t have both of us, Adam. If you want me the way you’ve said that you want me, then you have to choose me. Because I can’t do this with you anymore.”

The ultimatum hangs in the air, awaiting Adam’s response and Juliette hangs with it. She watches as Adam tears his eyes away from her, his head ducking down in defeat. He speaks again, his voice so soft that under any other circumstance, Juliette might be straining to hear him. But the words he says ring loudly throughout the room, ricocheting right into her chest and shattering her already fragile heart.

“I’m sorry Jules but… I can’t. Not right now.”

The words cut like a shotgun shot to the heart and she collapses back onto the edge of her bed, the hurt clearly painted on her face. She continues to look at him, hoping he would glance up and maybe take back his words. But when he doesn’t – when Adam’s eyes stay locked to the wooden floor, she finally tears her own eyes away from him, pushing back the tears that were still coming.

“Then get out. Get out of my house. Get out of my life,” Juliette chokes out, trying desperately to put as much malice behind the words as she could. “I never want to see you again.”

The room is silent for a moment until Juliette hears Adam move and the sound of his footsteps retreat, the distance between her and him growing further and further with every step. She listens to the sound of them fading, his departure finally punctuated by the echo of her front door closing.

And when that sound hits her eardrums, that’s when the rest of her strength gives out and Juliette’s head collapses into her hands, the tears now falling freely. She sits there and weeps; she doesn’t know how long for. She just cries until the tears are gone, until she feels like she has properly mourned the loss.

The loss of everything she could’ve had.

The loss of everything she never really had to begin with.

*~*~*~*~*

In the aftermath, Juliette attempts to heal. Attempt being the opportune word.

It is difficult, one of the worst breakups that she had ever experienced. Even though she didn’t know if this could even be classified as a breakup. What was it called when you lost someone who was never actually yours?

Still, the lack of definition didn’t dull the pain. In fact, it just exacerbated it. Her heart felt like it was cut open and she had to try to stich it back together. She had to sweep up the ashes of the once blazing passion that had now been extinguished. She had to try and move on.

But moving on was easier said than done. Especially when Adam’s ghost came back to her every night and every morning, she swore that she could still taste him on her lips. It became so bad that eventually she would just lie in bed staring at the ceiling fan, picking apart everything; every word spoken to her, every interaction they shared to see if there was an indication that this would be the inevitable conclusion, until sleep finally overtook her.

She spends days alone in her apartment, drinking every bottle of wine that she owned trying to erase Adam from her mind.

She ignores messages from friends, inviting her out to parties and hangouts because she knew there was a possibility that Adam would be there. And she wasn’t strong enough to face him without being pulled back into his inescapable gravity.

But the solitude doesn’t help either. Because in the silence contained within her apartment walls, all Juliette had was her thoughts. And her thoughts are anything but kind.

They were filled with the memories of Adam and her. They were filled with the knowledge that Adam is going to go back to Betty. It makes her sick to think of Adam holding Betty close, of him never telling her about what he did this summer, about Adam lying to her face and Betty being none the wiser.

But it also makes her sick to think about Adam holding Betty to him and continuing to build a life with her. Leaving Juliette and everything he promised her behind.

Juliette’s distance is eventually noticed and one day, Elsie and Even show up on Juliette’s doorstep, demanding to know what was going on.

And Juliette tells them everything. Everything.

She is terrified that they would judge her, criticize her for willingly going along with something so immoral for months. But they don’t. Perhaps it was because they felt sorry for her. Perhaps it was because they understood that while she carried some of the blame, she was more so an accomplice rather than the perpetrator. Perhaps it was because it was easy to blame the man that had only reappeared after eight years of absence rather than the friend that had been by their side for almost thirteen years.

Whatever the reason, they threw themselves into helping Juliette heal.

It felt like high school again; sleepovers at each other’s houses, staying up all night watching terrible movies, talking until the sun came up. Going to parties together and staying by each other’s sides for the entire night. And whenever they corralled Juliette out of a party early, she knew in the back of her mind it was because Adam had shown up. But she didn’t mind because it meant that they were watching out for her. And for that she was thankful.

There were still times where Elise drank a little too much, the alcohol loosening her tongue as she trashes Adam, cursing him for what he had done. And Juliette has to stop herself from defending the man that broke her heart. But those moments were few and far between.

Juliette never pushed away Elsie or Evan’s support, regardless of whether or not they saw things differently. Because without them, she was certain she would still be waking up alone, hungover and heartbroken.

However, while Elsie and Evan were a great help, Juliette was learning to heal without them.

At one point, Juliette started to drive to lakeside alone, late at night. It was there where she stood out on the shore, watching the moonlight ripple over the still water. Sometimes she would dive in, letting the late summer waves wash away any lingering heartache.

It was there that her examination of her relationship with Adam and the words he had said to her yielded a harsh truth; she had never known him. Nostalgia and lust twisted Adam into someone he wasn’t. When he was lying next to her, twisted in her bedsheets, he was an angel, washed pure by the flame he had ignited within Juliette.

That was the reason losing him hurt so much. Because in that moment, on that day in July, he told her exactly who he was. And the illusion had shattered.

Some nights, she wished he remained unknown to her.

Some nights, she wished he never came back into her life.

That way she could’ve kept the memory of the sweet boy from high school. The one who was assigned the seat next to her in homeroom because their last names were only a few letters apart. The one who welcomed her into his friend group without hesitation. The one who quickly became her best friend.

The person she fell in love with all those summers ago.

But that wasn’t who he was anymore. And so, Juliette finally learned to let the fantasy go.

August slipped away.

And so did Adam.

*~*~*~*~*

The strong knock on Juliette’s door pulls her attention away from the oven filled with sweet potato fries. She glances at her watch, confused that Elsie had arrived almost an hour earlier than she said she would. But Juliette shrugs, moving from the kitchen to the entryway, ready to let her in.

Maybe it was a good thing that Elsie was early. After all, based on how this season of the Bachelor was going, Juliette thought that it might be a good idea for the two of them to chug a glass of wine before even starting the finale.

Juliette doesn’t bother looking through her peephole, unlocking the door and swinging it open. But when she sees the silhouette of the person standing on her doorstep, she realizes that she should’ve at least double-checked to see who was standing outside.

Because standing there on the other side of her threshold… was Adam.

The man that she hadn’t seen or interacted with in almost two months.

“Can I come in?” he asks, the baseball cap perched on his head, his piercing blue eyes peering out from underneath the brim.

Juliette knows that the right thing to do would be to slam the door in his face. She told him that she never wanted to see him again and he had done a good job at disappearing from her life, just like she asked. But now he was back, standing on her doorstep, asking to be let in.

And before Juliette can think better of it, she’s stepping to the side, a silent invitation for Adam to enter her apartment.

He accepts, walking in and taking off his hat, his hand coming to run through his hair as he takes in the scene of her living room.

“The Bachelor?”

“Yeah, the season finale is tonight,” she explains, closing the door behind her, her eyes never leaving Adam’s frame.

“Expecting someone else?” he asks, vaguely pointing to the bottle and two wine glasses perched on her glass coffee table.

“Elsie.”

Adam’s reply is a hum as his eyes continue to dart around the room. It isn’t until now that Juliette realizes that he has yet to look at her.

“What are you doing here Adam?” she asks, crossing her arms in front of her, the sharpness of her voice finally pulling Adam’s attention to her. She hates the way her heart still lets out a small flutter at the sight of his expression softening as his eyes land on her.

“I just want to say that I was wrong. For not doing exactly what you asked me to.”

“What do you – ”

“I’m going to break up with Betty,” he says, cutting off her question. The words are uttered so fast that it takes a moment for Juliette to fully register them. And when she does, she can feel her expression twist from confusion to disbelief. Adam reads her reaction before continuing.

“I go back to Winnipeg in a week and as soon as I’m there, I’m going to tell her it’s over. But I just wanted to tell you first.”

“Why?” Juliette asks, feeling her heart start to pound in the anticipation of receiving Adam’s response.

“I was hoping that…” he starts, his words stilted and awkward as his gaze reverts to darting around the room. Juliette watches as he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as if he was readying himself to say the words he was about to speak. His eyes return to hers and Juliette can feel her breath catch in her throat at the fierce determination in his gaze.

“I still feel the same way that I did about you, Jules. You’re the only one for me and I’m sorry that I made you wait so long to hear me say this. I never wanted to hurt anyone but because of that, I ended up hurting you. I promise I’ll never leave you again.”

Every sentence, every declaration is punctuated by Adam taking a step towards her and Juliette doesn’t retreat, doesn’t move. Just lets him continue his steady approach until his hands are resting on her hips, holding her close.

“I want all of you, Jules,” he whispers, leaning down to press a kiss into the crown of her head. “My beautiful Jules.”

It was everything that Juliette had wanted to hear, everything she waited for during those three months of sneaking around, of stolen moments and pretty lies. And perhaps if the two of them were still back there, back in the heat of June, back at the beginning of summer with all it’s hope possibility, perhaps Juliette would take him back.

But now, in the September chill… it was too little, too late.

“Let go of me, Adam,” she whispers, keeping her body stiff in his hold. She doesn’t relax until she feels Adam’s hands withdraw and it is only when she feels the space between the two of their bodies widen that she looks up at him.

“I don’t – I don’t believe you,” she says and as soon as the words hit Adam, Juliette can see the distance appear in his eyes. There is still a small part of her body that aches as she can see the defeat wash over him but she continues, not willing to let him strip away the strength that she found in his absence. “I can’t trust you, Adam. And there’s no way I can know that you mean what you say. Especially when you’re in another city, a thousand kilometers away.”

Juliette lets her words linger in the air between them, willing Adam to listen to her, to understand how he hurt her the last time he was in her apartment, when he went back on the same exact promise. The pause lasts for a minute or two before a small sigh falls from Juliette’s lips.

“I can’t go through this with you again.”

The rejection feels like a slamming door, shutting out any lingering warmth from a summer love that seemed so real. But even though it hurt and even though there was still a part of Juliette that wanted to chase the sun and bask in its light for a little while longer, she knew that if she did, she would just get burned.

Both her and Adam stand there, appraising each other and she knows that one of them is going to break first, one of them is going to take back the words just spoken. But it wasn’t going to be her. Maybe she used to be willing to give up everything to keep him close – because even though it would hurt, she would get to wake up next to him every morning – but she couldn’t do it now.

Finally, Adam sighs, understanding that he lost the battle.

“I understand,” he says, moving towards the front door, passing by Juliette with a brush of his arm against hers.

But unlike the last time Adam left her apartment, Juliette turns to watch him leave. Her eyes track his movement to the front door, watching as he swings it open. But before he steps out into the autumn evening, he looks back at her and Juliette can see the ocean waves of sadness in his blue eyes.

“Jules,” he whispers. There is an exquisite pang that echoes through the chambers of her heart at the nickname, the nickname meant only for her. A name that she will most likely never hear again. “I’m sorry.”

“I am too.”

Her words are the final sentence spoken, Adam walking out and closing the door behind him. And Juliette expects that seeing him leave would hurt just as much as it did the last time.

But it doesn’t.

*~*~*~*~*

I think about us a lot. I don’t know if it’s the end of the chapter and you’ll return later on or it’s the end of the story. But I love you. I miss you. I’m sorry this is the way it became.

#breakable heaven #nicole writes #summer fic exchange 2k23 #adam lowry fic #adam lowry imagine #winnipeg jets fic #winnipeg jets imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #la petite mort

60 notes · View notes

whimsicaldragonette · 8 months

Text

ARC Review: A Fire Born of Exile by Aliette de Bodard

Order

Add to Goodreads

Publication Date: October 12, 2023

Synopsos:

The Scattered Pearls Belt is a string of habitats under tight military rule . . . where the powerful have become all too comfortable in their positions, and their corruption. But change is coming, with the arrival of Quynh: the mysterious and enigmatic Alchemist of Streams and Hills. To Minh, daughter of the ruling prefect of the Belt , Quynh represents a chance for escape. To An, a destitute engineer, Quynh has a mysterious link to her own past . . . and holds a deeper, more sensual appeal. But Quynh has her own secret history, and a plan for the ruling class of the Belt. A plan that will tear open old wounds, shake the heavens, and may well consume her. A beautiful exploration of the power of love, of revenge, and of the wounds of the past, this fast-paced, heart-warming space opera is set against a backdrop of corruption, power and political scheming in the far reaches of the award-winning Xuya universe.

My Rating: ★★★★★

*My Review after the cut.

My Review:

I have enjoyed everything I have read by Aliette de Bodard, but this is my favorite thus far. Something about the characters grabbed me immediately and held my interest for the entire book. They felt incredibly real and believable and I cared deeply about all of them.

Her writing style is very dense, so her books take me longer to read than most others, but I always enjoy the journey. Sometimes it's nice to be forced to slow down and linger over a story rather than speed through it.

The characters and their motivations are complicated. Revenge and fear and hate and greed and love and justice. They're all very powerful emotions and the book itself feels very powerful. It's a grand struggle and epic battles that play out in subtle manipulations and power plays and scholars crafting the perfect response alluding to classic texts.

I love how expansive and complicated this universe is, with the mindships and bots and the avatars and overlays and perception filters, as well as the Vietnamese names and culture that feels deep and consistent. It feels so vast and so physical, and even though I know it's not real, it feels like it is.

I have read a good handful of Xuya universe novels and novellas now so I feel like I have a pretty good handle on the world, where I was confused occasionally even in the previous novel. It's more sci-fi than I normally read, and I love it. It has such a lovely texture.

I also love how queer relationships are treated as normal and unremarkable, and how many examples of them we have in this book (and her others). There is at least one nonbinary character and it is completely normal. The main relationships are all pairs of women. It's so refreshing and validating.

I have not had such a deeply enjoyable and satisfying reading experience in a while and it felt so good. Wading through the dense language that Aliette de Bodard uses felt rewarding and I was swept away by the strong emotions and convictions of the characters. I am sad to leave this world and eagerly await the next Xuya universe novel.

(It should be noted that I am in the process of moving so the only time I have had to read in the past few weeks is when I wake up in the middle of the night and can't sleep. So I read most of this between the hours of 3 and 6am. And I still adored it and happily spent days wading through its complexity. That's how good it is.)

*Thanks to NetGalley and JAB Books for providing an early copy for review.

#queer romance #queer books #aliette de bodard #a fire born of exile #xuya universe #best books of 2023 #netgalley #arc review #shilo reads #queer characters #sci-fi

13 notes · View notes

destinyc1020 · 1 year

Text

👀👀

Wow.....

Laaawwwwd.... V is out here again being messy!! 🤣😂

🤣😂

Geez... what on earth did Austin do to her? 😅

Ummm... am I the only one who keeps getting the impression that she's not quite over him or their breakup? 🤔 👀

I keep saying, when you are totally OVER someone, they don't even occupy your thoughts, and you're not needing to go on social media to throw shade at them, and you're not making subtle jabs about them in interviews, etc. 👀

The opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference. Jmho 🤷🏾‍♀️

Sis isn't over him lol 😆 At least, that's the impression she's giving off. 👀

It's been like over 3 years since their breakup.... And the awards season is over!! 😅

I wouldn't think it strange if it were like 6 months or even a year after their breakup. But, it's been 3 years since their breakup, AND she's been in a rlshp with another man for at least two years since then. 👀 Idk, I just feel like when you're totally over an ex or a situation, you just aren't giving it THIS much energy and thought. Austin must still occupy her thoughts on some level lol. 😅

I just hope for her mental, emotional, and even physical health sake that she can just let it go. 😔 Believe me, holding on to resentment only hurts YOU in the long run. Ask me how I know? 😏

She's an engaged woman, and if I'm happy in my new rlshp, I'm not thinking about my ex, that's for sure. 😅 I just wonder what her fiancé thinks.... 👀

Trust me....I'd be saying the SAME exact thing (cuz I'm not afraid to keep it real lol 😅) if Tom and Zendaya (heaven-forbid!🙏🏾) were to break up again tomorrow, and 3 YEARS after the breakup if Z were still making cryptic posts shading Tom, or liking posts about exes, or throwing shade at Tom in interviews, etc, I'd be like....

"You know good and well you're not over Tom if you're doing stuff like this, especially if you're doing this stuff while engaged to another man!!" Rofl 🤣 🤣

Whew boy.... Anyway....

I actually feel sorry for them, especially since they were together for so long, and they both went through such challenging life events together (her father dying due to cancer, his mother dying due to cancer). 😔

I'm not saying he should have stayed with her if they weren't compatible anymore, but I get the impression that he probably didn't handle the breakup in the best way....especially if he was overseas prepping for "Elvis" when it happened. 😔 Or, maybe she had hoped that at some point they would get back together and they didn't. 👀 🥴

Either way, she's definitely feeling wronged. I don't even recall her being like this after the Zanessa breakup rofl 😂

Anyway, I feel like they just need to have it out and have a come to Jesus meeting or smthg lol, cuz it's so obvious there's some unfinished business there boy... 🫣

I said the same thing about TZ. Sometimes you can just feel it. 👀

Whoooosaaah...... chiiiiile.....

🥺

#real talk

23 notes · View notes

mlobsters · 9 months

Text

supernatural s9e6 heaven can't wait (w. robert barens)

first episode with this writer. not sure i'm in the best mindset to do this but let's try. suicide hotline straight out of the gate not helping

i'm glad misha played this bit with the machine straight, i was more worried that he was going to be touching his phone with wet sticky fingers

sam looking especially giant next to kevin like this

so i can't imagine they'd recycle the exact same plot of cas getting wooed by pretty lady who's actually trying to kill him, but if she's above board she.... needs to raise her standards and stick to the no dating your employees rule.

DEAN Were they all basket cases? SHERIFF If you asked me to make a list of this county's saddest sacks, these four would've been right on top.

right, again, nothing new. but i'm tired of how they talk about mental illness. also. it's me, hi, i'm the saddest sack, it's me. literally have sad sack in my twitter profile. anyway i know this is before the always keep fighting campaign and jared talking about his experiences with mental illness

unclear how bodily tissues and clothes all turn into bright pink residue for everyone

the mushy music swells

dean's being kind of an asshole here to cas about him having to work at the gas station. like it's so funny, he's dealing with being human for the first time (and the writers have made him very clueless) and you kicked him out your home and he had nothing and nowhere to stay so he was supposed to .... do what exactly

CROWLEY You think you can threaten me with that hack?! She's all fury, no finesse. SAM I'm not so sure. Our last encounter with Abaddon, she was, uh – she was pretty terrifying. Scarier than you've been in years.

laughed out loud at sam's not remotely subtle attempts to make crowley jealous

CASTIEL You are a hunter. DEAN And you're a hunter in training, remember? CASTIEL Yeah, I remember. You said I sucked. DEAN I didn't say that. I said that there was, uh, uh, you know, "room for improvement." Come on. CASTIEL All right, my shift's over in five minutes, and my date's not until later, so... DEAN Attaboy! I'll go get the car.

kinda treating cas like a doormat. feel like he should be more pissed at dean than he is. then again i thought dean should have been more pissed at him a whole bunch of times so. even steven

DEAN What, you're saying an angel did this? CASTIEL It's no ordinary angel. Dean, this is bad. This is very bad.

you've heard of arch angels but what if i told you there were super mega bad arch angels

getting dean's quick guide to dating

okay boss lady, next time you're trying to ask if someone can babysit, mention the baby. and the sitting. and the babysitting

LOL like drawing blood works like this. this show and needles is so goofy :p most shows are. but like you can just jab a needle straight down into your arm and draw blood is especially goofy.

know that i know the song cas is singing (believe it or not by joey scarbury) because george had an answering machine message spoof of it in an episode of seinfeld...

this baby is a DOLL! my god. precious 🥹

CASTIEL Nobody told you. Nobody explained. You're just … shoved out kicking and screaming into this human life, without any idea why any of it feels the way it feels, or why this confusion, which feels like it's … a hair's breadth (The baby stops crying.) from terror or pain. You know, just when you think you do understand, it'll turn out you're wrong. You didn't understand anything at all. Guess that's just how it is when you're new at this. You know, it wasn't that long ago when all I'd need to do to ease your pain was touch you.

i am glad they're addressing this aspect of how hard it would actually be to suddenly have to deal with being human for cas

reminiscing about the time dean was sweet with the shifter baby

s6e2 two and a half men because i'm soft for baby cuddles

curious where they're going with this and crowley. giving him a little mini redemption arc?

DEAN Listen, Cas … Back at the bunker, I, uh... Sorry I told you to go. I know it's been hard on you, you know, on your own. Well, you're adapting. I'm proud of you. CASTIEL Thank you, Dean. (Sighs) But there's something Ephraim said. The angels – they need help. Can I really sit this out? Shouldn't I be searching for a way to get them home? DEAN Me and Sam will take care of the angels. You're human now. It's not your problem anymore.

glad he apologized. i think he should have offered to help with money or something. should have given him a bundle when he booted him in the first place. if we're on the cas-is-family train, dean is good at taking care of people and knows what it's like to be food insecure and unhoused. he's falling down on that job with cas right now. if they want me to take their relationship as seriously as they talk it up to be, gotta follow through with more actions

#supernatural #spnwatch #spn 9x06 #robert berens #believe it or not #seinfeld #george's message is gonna be stuck in my head for at least a day now #spn 6x02 #Youtube

5 notes · View notes

ka-za-ri · 4 years

Text

Descent Pt. 4

Hello again! Did ya miss me? (of course you didn’t. I haven’t gone anywhere) Please enjoy the next installment of a Simeon Sin Fest that shouldn’t be allowed. As usual, lemme know what you think!

Chapter Index and Obey Me! Masterlist: here Ao3 Mirror: Here Part [1] Part [2] Part [3] Part 4: [4] Part [5] Part [6] Part [7] Part [8] Part [9] Part [10] Pairing: Simeon x Reader Genre: Smut Wordcount: 5,300 ish Tags: Sex toys, smut, femdom, anal toys, cock rings, oral, face sitting, body worship Summary: After a long night of being played with, it's only fair that you got to do the same to Simeon.

Skid

To say you had a wild night would have been an understatement. Simeon was relentless in his experiments and you were subjected to a full array of toys and techniques that you never imagined to go through. You couldn’t help but enjoy ever second of it. Even if he said it was for his book, even if it was all pretend, he lavished you with attention and you drank up every drop of it. All you asked for was a little affection and he was more than happy to give that for you in exchange for watching you cum time and time again. You had lost count of how many times you had climaxed under his watch, eventually passing out from exhaustion and begging for a break.

When you awoke, you were still on the floor but a large, soft comforter had been wrapped around you, tucking you in neatly into a bundle on the ground. The sun streaming past the curtains gave you a vague idea of just how late you had slept in. Rubbing your eyes and looking around, you found Simeon sleeping soundly on the couch nearby. He had put his sweater back on and a small throw was carelessly draped across his abdomen. He must have been in the middle of doing something when he finally fell asleep considering how he still had his glasses on.

Your whole body hurt both from sleeping on the hard ground and also from all the activities of the night before. Stretching a bit, you worked the soreness out of your body bit by bit as you went through the motions of waking up. You tried to keep the noises to a minimum considering Simeon was right there, but it was difficult to hide a groan of pain or two from escaping when it came to stretching your back and arms.

Surprisingly enough, he stayed asleep through everything and you carefully waddled over to him with the comforter wadded up in your arms, fully intent on covering him properly to prevent him from catching a cold. Just as you were about to spread the comforter over him, your caught a glimpse of the notebook in his hand. Curiosity got the better of you and you were immediately distracted by what he had scribbled in that little book. Carefully putting the blanket down, you peeled the book from his grasp. He mumbled slightly in his sleep, stirring a bit, but didn’t wake. You breathed a sigh of relief and went right into flipping through the pages.

You thought he had gone through all the ideas in his head; however, the chapter outlines in his notebook told you a completely different story. Just glancing at the few words he had scribbled down for each scene had your cheeks and ears flushing hot with embarrassment and a fair amount of desire. You didn’t think he was capable of such scenarios, yet the proof was staring right at you. You blinked, noticing the next thing he had underlined and smiled to yourself. The premise would be perfect payback for everything he had put you though.

Putting your little scheme into motion, you tucked him in properly, took his glasses off his face and let him rest for as long as he needed to. If he could spend a whole night tormenting you to climax over and over again; you had found the perfect opportunity to do the same to him. You needed him to be well rested and ready for that. Anyway, he looked too angelic while sleeping for you to wake him up without warning.

Simeon eventually came to about an hour later. He groaned, looking around and noticing not only the comforter around him, but his glasses and notebook tucked neatly to the side. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him when he saw the empty spot on the floor. He swallowed, wondering if you had enough of him and left. He carefully got up, checking his surroundings and heaved a sigh of relief when he noticed your overnight bag was still where he had left it.

He was drawn to sounds in the kitchen and when he approached he was greeted with the most domestic scene that warmed his heart.

You had found one of his over-sized sweaters to wear. It almost came down to your knees and because of its size, you thought it would be perfect to just not wear pants. He watched you as you padded around the kitchen making breakfast out of leftovers. You hummed softly to yourself, completely unaware of him watching you until you turned and saw him at the doorway. Startled, you nearly dropped the bowl of fried rice you just finished making. “Oh, I didn’t notice you had woken up. I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed a few things.” You smiled sheepishly at your attire.

“Oh no, it suits you.” He said softly, coming over and taking the bowl from your hands. His fingers brushed against yours momentarily and you felt your heart flutter. There was so much kindness in his eyes and a gentleness to all his motions, you wondered if the manic, sex driven god you saw last night was a dream. The ache between your legs told you it had definitely been your reality.

He went about as if nothing happened, helping you out with breakfast and brewing some tea to go with the meal. He had to be careful, he already had a sampling of going right to the edge with you and it was so addicting, his whole body was itching to do it again. Seeing you wearing his clothes also did something to him he didn’t expect. There was a surge of pride, and arousal, that came about when he saw how well you wore his sweater. When he stood close to you, pressed against you to get some dishes, he could smell the cloying scent of his laundry detergent mixed with your unique scent. It was a heady mixture that shot hormones straight to his groin and he had to steel himself from lewd thoughts to keep himself decent. It was much too early in the morning to deal with this.

All he wanted was a peaceful meal with you; but it seemed his mind had other plans. He kept replaying every moment you came undone and screamed his name. The way you moaned for him was so alluring and he nearly lost himself more than once. For as ancient as he was, Simeon thought he had perfect control over his emotions and his desires; but you were showing him that wasn’t the case at all. Every little thing you did seemed to give him more ideas and more ways to ravish you without experiencing a fall. The fire he played with was hot, but the reward was worth it in the end.

He struggled through eating breakfast and you could tell his mind was in the gutter. It was so adorable how hard he tried to hide it from you. He wasn’t being subtle at all, fidgeting and half paying attention to the conversation at hand. It only made you want to pounce on him even more, but you had to be patient. There was a time and place for everything and breakfast was the most important meal of the day.

“Oh, I hope you don’t mind that I used your shower while you were sleeping.” You nonchalantly said while cleaning up the last of the rice.

“Oh… Oh not at all,” he stuttered, feeling the tips of his ears burning when the image of your wet body in his shower flashed across his mind’s eye. He cleared his throat and quickly changed the subject. “So, is there anything that you’d like to do today? I feel like after uhm… what happened last night, I should let you choose how you would like to spend the rest of your time here.”

You couldn’t get enough of how he switched between adorably innocent and intensely sexy. If only you could figure out what made him tick, it would be a gold mine. You wanted to press all his buttons at once to see him come apart at the seams. He had broken you down to your base needs so easily, it only seemed fair that you did the same to him. As if the gods of fortune were smiling down upon you, he even offered to do whatever it was you wanted. You show just how excited you were when he put such a lovely gift in your lap. “I have a few ideas…” you replied, leaving a fair bit of vagueness in your answer. “But let’s get dishes done before we get too busy.”

The innuendos in your words had him thinking of scenario after scenario all which involved you being in a compromising position. He wanted to act upon those base instincts of his to simply take what he wanted; but he had already resigned control of the day to you and he would be good about it. He was an angel after all, doing the bare minimum and showing some control over his desires was the least he could do to slow his inevitable descent into the dark world of carnal pleasures. “Let me take care of that, you did the cooking. I asked you over to relax and celebrate your time with me, not cook and work.”

Perfect. You almost felt bad for taking advantage of his innately kind disposition.

“Oh, I don’t mind. I had so much fun, it didn’t even feel like work,” you chirped but didn’t stop him from going to the sink and doing the dishes as he said he would. “Well, I’ll come up with something to do while you’re doing chores then,” you were nearly singing in excitement and it took every bit of self control you had to not skip out of the kitchen and put your devious plan in full swing.

By the time Simeon was done, the house was eerily quiet. He hadn’t heard you rustling about at all while he was cleaning. He had expected you to choose a movie to watch or maybe even suggest a stroll through his gardens. But, you were no where to be found which was concerning. Honestly, he was a little anxious to find out what you had planned for him. Stepping back out into the living room, he looked around and didn’t see you there at all. An irrational wave of panic set in and he wondered if you had somehow packed up and left him.

Using his confusion to your advantage, you sneaked up behind him from your hiding spot and grabbed his arms, quickly pulling them behind him and securing them with a pair of thick leather cuffs you had found in his giant trunk of sex paraphernalia. The bewildered look he gave you as the cuffs clicked into place was so cute and you almost felt sorry for springing the surprise on him. “What.. what are you doing?” He asked, pulling against the bindings. You had purposefully kept them loose. If he wanted to leave, he was free to do so at any time. They weren’t there to keep him restrained, they were there to remind him you were in control.

You stalked around him, and he was drawn to the sound of heels clicking against the floor. Looking down, he noticed the tall platforms you had put on while he wasn’t looking. You were still wearing nothing else except for his sweater and he couldn’t stop the involuntary shudder of lust that ran down his spine to rest at his crotch. He hoped you didn’t notice; but with the way you were watching his every reaction, he knew you had seen it.

The smile on your face was full of mischief and a bit feral. Something about losing all control of the situation had Simeon’s mind blanking out and he was equal parts terrified of what you were capable of as well as quickly becoming aroused in anticipation of what you had planned. You lead him to the couch and made him sit on the edge of the cushion, all the while exuding every bit of confidence you could get out of being in control for the day. “So, I went through some of your notes...”

He audibly swallowed, breaking out in a cold sweat when he realized you had found the darkest depths of his desires. The chill that washed over him was replaced with shame as he tried to explain himself. As soon as he opened his mouth, you put a finger on his lips to hush him. “I don’t want to hear your excuses,” you drawled. You paced back and forth slowly, the clack of your heels against the floor echoing in the room “What I want to know, is how you expect this interrogation scene to work with me.”

You picked up the notebook and flipped through the pages, ignoring most of what he had already written until you landed on the page you were referring to. “You see, it clearly states that the main character’s partner gets caught and then interrogated… Last time I checked, I’m your stand in for the main character. Which means...” You smirked, dragging a finger down his cheek. “You get all the fun of all the scenes involving the partner, the husband… and maybe even the boss, right?”

Simeon nodded dumbly at your analysis; unable to argue with you. He had considered using you as a stand-in for those scenes as well, but he had no idea how to approach you about it. The solution you came up with was both brilliant and dangerous. Without being in control, who knew just how much further he would slip into the darkness to just be with you. It was a risk he was willing to take though. The cuffs that kept his arms bound behind him kept him firmly in place despite being loose. In the short time he had known human pleasure, he had already put his full trust in you.

“Okay… well, we’ve got the whole handcuffed part down. Next… we get a little spicy.” To see Simeon so docile and willing to participate in your little play made it all the more exciting to you. You made a show of rifling through his trunk of toys, bending over so he could get a good look at the lacy underthings you put on under his sweater. You mumbled to yourself as you went through all the options you had in front of you. Your fingers brushed across a few lengths of ropes, considering them for a moment before you left them be for the time being. Today would be a test of how far he would let you go, ropes could always wait until later.

For now, you had much more important matters to attend to. The most pressing matter being the fact that Simeon had too many clothes on. Setting aside the toys you had chosen, you stalked back over to him, making sure to keep your selection out of his direct line of sight. “First thing’s first, let’s see what I get to work with, shall we?” You asked, pressing a knee between his thighs to spread his legs apart. Leaning in, you kissed him deeply, breathed in his scent and started the scene you had schemed about since the morning into action.

You couldn’t get enough of how soft his lips were, or how wonderful he sounded whenever he let out a soft, breathy moan. Pulling away after a heated make out session, you were rather happy to see the slightest tinge of read on his cheeks and a glassy haze over his eyes. “Adorable.” You purred leaning in again to pepper his skin with more kisses along his jaw and his neck. You could feel his body tense as you explored it, but he didn’t deny you or stop you with his safe word. You figured he could take notes on how to write a sexy interrogation scene without actually being interrogated. You really weren’t in the right mindset to come up with some cheesy dialog which could throw the mood off.

Since you were going to focus on the experience, it meant that you were free to lavish his skin with kisses and light love bites until he was a shivering mess. You knew no matter how much affection you gave him, nothing would come from it. It was the nature of your relationship with him. But, you hoped you could at least convey your feelings for him while you had him at your mercy. So you poured every bit of your adoration you had for him into every kiss and every caress, hoping he would get the message.

Your fingers played at the hem of his sweater, teasing the skin of his abdomen with feather light touches while you kissed what skin was exposed. When you were sure you had given every inch attention, you peeled the sweater over his head to give you a new expanse of skin to work with. You couldn’t help but grin wickedly, watching him shiver as the sweater was pulled over his head. It dropped down his arms, stopping right at the cuffs, framing his body. If you squinted in the early daylight, it almost looked like a pair of fluffy white wings coming from him.

“My precious angel...” You murmured softly, looking at him fondly. “You’re so cute.”

You shifted so that you straddled him properly and pushed him back to rest against the cushions of the couch. In his new half-laying position, you had much more access to the skin you just revealed and you were more than happy to shower him with more kisses; worshiping his body and everything he was willing to give you.

It was so beautiful to hear him moan and shudder under you. His lithe body tensed and relaxed in time with what you did to him. You quickly learned what drew out the best sounds from him and made sure to revisit the spots that brought out the most delicious moans. His nipples were especially sensitive and every touch sent him keening. You could feel his cock twitch under you as you teased his body to the peaks of arousal without giving him what he undoubtedly wanted.

You hummed, grinding yourself against his growing hard on while you continued to give his torso more attention. Curious, you wrapped your lips around a nipple and sucked, licking the tender skin there and the scream that came from him was absolutely heavenly. You quickly became addicted to that sound and redoubled your efforts in eliciting that noise from him. He strained against his bindings but remained careful not to break them. You being on top of him was doing things to his mind he never thought were possible and he was quickly losing himself to all the sensations you were giving him.

“Please…” He begged after you had given his nipple ample attention. “I need something mo-- Ahhh” You ignored his pleas as you simply switched to his neglected nipple. Your lips made sure to give it the same attention as its partner while your fingers traced the waistband of his pants. You would give him more on your own terms, and right now you were very busy getting him to scream your name while you teased him.

He wasn’t sure just how much more teasing he could take from you and futilely rolled his up to you in an attempt to get your attention. Much to your dismay, you only ground down on him harder to keep his hips still. You bit his chest hard, enough to make him gasp and leave little teeth marks on his skin. “You’ll get more once you behave.” you explained simply before going back to caressing and kissing him.

Simeon felt delirious by the time you were finally ready to get off his lap and help him out of his pants. He was very sure they had gotten soiled with how much his cock was leaking with need. As soon as you peeled his pants off of him, he sighed in relief, no longer having anything restricting his aching cock. “Ooh… someone’s so excited.” You drawled, dragging a finger up and down his shaft. He gasped, heaving deep breaths as a new onslaught of sensations washed over him.

You wanted nothing more than to sink your pussy down on his length and feel it stretch you out; but you needed to remain respectful of his wishes. Anyway, you had many more plans for him. You were acting out an ‘interrogation’ scene after all. What was an interrogation without some torture? You smiled softly at him while your finger swirled around the tip of his cock. “Ah… now for the fun part.” you said softly, leaning down and giving his dribbling member a chaste kiss.

You walked over to the coffee table where you had set aside the toys for the session and wrapped your fingers around the cock ring you had chosen. You made sure he was well aware of every one of your actions and forced him to watch as you slipped the ring down his length until it rested right at the juncture between the shaft of his cock and his balls. He let out a soft whimper as he felt the pressure on his cock. His expression was full of pleading when he looked up at you, begging you with his eyes to release him.

“Now now, my precious angel...” You cooed, tilting his head up to keep his eyes on you. “I can’t have you cum until I think you’ve done a good job. You can do a good job, right?”

Simeon looked at you blankly, nodding vigorously to whatever terms you were going to give him. He had been so close to climax as soon as you had taken his pants off of him and now, you had forbidden him from the release he craved. He was willing to do whatever it took to get to that high again.

“Good boy...” You praised before helping him up and repositioning him to bend over the arm of the couch with his legs spread and his ass up in the air for you. The sight of his cock hanging between his legs was so tantalizing, you couldn’t help but give it a few loving strokes which rewarded you with a shaky moan from Simeon.

You smirked, running your hand across the swell of his ass and spent a good few moments caressing his cock and balls, pulling a few more needy moans from him before you moved to the next thing you had in mind. “Let me know if this hurts now...” you said, lubing up your fingers and teasing his ass crack. “I don’t want to break you so early.” You dribbled a liberal amount of lube in between his cheeks to make the next part as smooth as possible.

When you pressed your first finger in him, he let out a strangled gasp, struggling wildly against his restraints and you waited for him to stop you. But he didn’t. Simeon simply looked like he was reeling in the experience and eventually calmed down enough for you to start sliding your finger in and out of him. The surprised gasps soon turned into pleasured moans and you felt confident enough to continue stretching him out more.

The process was gruelingly slow, but it was worth it to see his blissed out face in the end when you managed to fit three fingers in and he was a mewling mess against the couch cushions. “Good boy… Time for you reward.” you purred and reached for the glittering plug you had set aside.

You carefully removed your fingers and he whimpered when he was fully empty. Oh, he’s going to regret sounding like that soon… You thought wickedly as you spread the lube on the plug. Slowly, oh so slowly, you started easing it into him and watched as his expression changed from bliss to shock and then back to pure pleasure. The plug glittered so beautifully in the sun once it was inside of him you couldn’t help but give his ass a satisfied smack, making him jump a little.

“How’s that feel?”

“G-good...” He said breathlessly. He didn’t realize just how tense his body had become during the whole process until the toy was snugly inside of him. Now that the weight of it sat inside and the base stretched him out just so, he was in a world of nothing but pleasure. Your hand idly stroking his aching cock only added to the sensations and he was sure he would faint soon if he wasn’t allowed to cum.

“Good. You did so well, my precious angel…” you cooed. There really wasn’t any better pet name for him, you decided. He was just everything you ever expected out of an angel and it felt right to call him that while he was in your care. “Are you ready for your reward?”

He nodded, barely comprehending your words. You guided him to lounge back on the couch to give his legs a rest. The shift in positioning meant the plug only went deeper into him and pressed against a spot inside that made him see stars as soon as he sat down. You waited patiently for him to ride out the wave of sensations before you finally gave his cock the attention it deserved.

You wrapped your lips around the tip of his dick, giving it a good suck and swirled your tongue around it which caused Simeon’s hips to nearly levitate right off the couch. You firmly pressed him back down, keeping your hands on his thighs to prevent him from squirming too much. His breaths came out in shallow pants as you took his cock into your mouth inch by inch until your teeth caught on the ring at the base. Careful to not hurt him, you slowly pulled the ring off his cock one agonizing inch at a time.

Looking up at him with the toy in your mouth, you were greeted by the most angelic image of an absolutely debauched Simeon. His hair a mess and his eyes glazed over, he almost didn’t seem all present until he heard the toy drop from your mouth and onto the ground. Then, only then did he scream your name as you gave him the blissful release he had craved when your hot mouth was once again over his cock.

You let him squirm and thrust his hips into your mouth, accepting everything he was giving you as best you could. Urging him on by moaning into his dick as you sucked him off, it took almost no time at all for him to cum gratefully down your throat. The load was large enough to leave a bit of if dribbling down the corner of your mouth as you struggled to swallow it all. Pulling off his cock with a lewd pop, you looked over at him and pouted. “Ahh… it looks like someone had fun...” you drawled.

“I… yes...” He breathed, still breathless from finally climaxing. The sun glistened off of his sweaty skin as he took deep breaths to bring himself back to earth.

“So I get my turn now, as fair payment, right?”

“I… What?”

“Don’t think I’m done with you yet.” You let out a soft giggle, getting up from between his legs and moved him so you he was laying down across the cushions of the couch. “I still need release.”

He had no idea what you were about to do until you positioned yourself to straddle his head. He got a clear view of your dripping wet pussy and just the sight alone was mind blowing. “So, why don’t you show me what that pretty tongue of yours can do?” You asked, moving your panties to the side and sinking down onto his face.

He was surrounded by your scent, your heat and the taste of you. Simeon was more than eager to flick his tongue out and trace your soaking slit, savoring the feast you were giving him. He could barely breathe, but that didn’t matter to him. He eagerly tilted his head up to meet you and licked at everything you offered him. His lips eventually found your clit and he latched onto the sensitive bundle of nerves.

The moment you felt his tongue and lips on your clit, you knew it would be the end for you. You had already been holding off your arousal for so long in your quest to conquer him that when you finally got stimulation it was absolutely wonderful. You didn’t hold back your praises as you urged him to keep going. Your moans filled the room alongside the lewd sounds of his licking and lapping at your folds. You could get used to his anti-pussy fucking demands if it meant that his talented tongue could work you to orgasm over and over again instead of a cold toy.

“Oh… Oh fuck, Simeon...” you whined as you crested over the edge and came all over his face. You felt him greedily lap up everything he had access to, sending shivers all over your body until you were a shuddering, overstimulated mess.

Reluctantly, you pulled away from him, finally giving him the space to take an unhindered breath. You settled on his chest, watching him gasp for air. The lower half of his face was covered in your slick and it was such an arousing sight, you couldn’t help but lean in and kiss him, tasting the remnants of yourself on his lips as you did so. “You did so well…” you praised once the kiss broke.

You stroked his hair gently and let him come down from whatever highs he was feeling. Taking the cuffs off of him, he examined his wrists for any marks and was rather satisfied to see that there were none. It would have been a shame if his beautiful skin was marred by a toy and not your teeth or nails. In the moments that scene ended, all tension in his body seemed to leave at once and he was a limp noodle in your arms.

You went to go get some water to sip on and helped clean off the worst of the fluids between the two of you. Reaching around him, you started to remove the plug still inside of him and he stopped you. “I… Let me wear it a little longer.”

“Alright.” you conceded and settled yourself next to him, letting him rest his head on your bosom and ride out everything. “You did so well...” you murmured, meditatively stroking his hair. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I’ll make a great chapter out of this.” He reassured, partially dozing off and clinging to your borrowed sweater. “I promise I’ll make you proud.”

“You already do.” You said softly, pulling a nearby throw over and covering him with it. “Rest, you’ve worked hard today, my precious angel.”

He mumbled something unintelligible as a reply before snuggling up closer to you, quickly falling asleep from exhaustion. You let yourself slip into a light sleep as well, knowing your calves would hate you for being in such high heels for so long. It was worth it, though.

What you didn’t know was Simeon was now far from being a precious angel now that he had a taste of sin and temptation.

#Obey me #obey me simeon #Obey me fanfiction #Obey me smut #Simeon x Reader #Obey me AU #My writing #Wow this is so much sin #I almost feel bad #I still hate every word I write right now #but hey it's getting the job done #I am not subtle with the heaven jabs

182 notes · View notes

hongism · 3 years

Text

mists of celeste ➻ 39

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, smut ➻ word count: 11.7k ➻ rating: M ➻ warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

⇐ previous | next ⇒ | masterlist

✧✧✧ act five ➻ part six

You’ve come to the blinding realization that Jeong Yunho is enjoying himself far too much at this very moment. You are standing here preparing to get dragged to high heaven without relent by Hongjoong, and the healer has made himself comfortable in Hongjoong’s chair behind his desk, feet propped up on the corner with a pen dangling from his lips like it’s a piece of candy. It doesn’t help that whenever he stops staring you down, he shifts to look at the man in front of him with sex-laden eyes and you feel positively out of place in this room right now. You are also fairly certain that he’s smirking every time Hongjoong releases a deep sigh, but you can’t focus on that too much when Hongjoong is dragging this whole process out the way he is. If he would just get on with this inevitable lecture so you don’t lose any further shreds of dignity, that would be much preferred.

As though sensing the gaze on the back of his head, Hongjoong turns in his place to glare back at Yunho.

“Can you stop eye-fucking me for two seconds?”

“Not my fault you’re hot when seething with rage.” Yunho’s quip is thrown hastily back, bringing a huff from Hongjoong’s lips as he shakes his head.

“Knock it off before I kick you out.”

“Cute,” Yunho singsongs back, and he lets a smile stretch around the body of the pen between his teeth. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Now is not the time, Yunho.”

“I hardly mind an audience!”

“You won’t be allowed to go on the recovery mission for Mingi,” the captain starts at last, pointedly ignoring Yunho’s last comment as he redirects his focus to where you stand. Yunho pokes his tongue out alongside the pen, glancing between you and Hongjoong, but you only give him your attention for that brief moment. “I highly doubt I need to even begin to explain why this is my decision, but it would be best for you to hear it directly from me. Your actions last night, to put it mildly, were both irrational and childish. You reacted poorly to an already tense situation and not only put yourself at risk, but the safety of the crew at risk as well. What would have happened if you had killed Jisung last night? We would not have had the location of San and thus had no way of knowing where he is being held. You were reckless on all accounts, refusing to listen to both your captain and your lieutenant, who called out to you multiple times while you were talking with Jisung but you seemed unable to hear him in the slightest.”

All you can do is press your lips together and chew at the inside of your cheek. Hongjoong is not wrong, of course, and you would be the first to admit that your outburst last night was more than just a lapse in judgment. As for Seonghwa trying to get you to stop, you truly have no recollection of that, so if he did attempt that you were unable to hear it. There’s no telling how long Hongjoong was lingering at the edge of the room either or if he called you off at all, but those are just unnecessary details at this point.

“Trying to do things on your own out of a purely emotional reaction does nothing for the crew as a whole. Thus, there is no way in hell I would ever let you go on this mission. Allowing you to go would teach you nothing; it would simply tell you that you can get away with shit like that. And I’m telling you now that you cannot and will not under my command.” Hongjoong brings his arms up to cross over his chest. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, still leaned up against the front of his desk as before, and though his tone reads anger, you can’t find any in his posture. Yunho’s still teasing that pen between his teeth. “Yeosang and Jongho will accompany Jisung to recover Mingi according to the agreement you struck up with Jisung. Whereas you, Y/N, will remain on the bridge being monitored since you cannot seem to act like an adult on your own.”

The not-so-subtle dig should burn your pride, but this is humiliating enough to have you already in the lowest depths of your dignity.

“Along with that, we have come up with a failsafe for if Jisung acts up. If he decides to get rowdy and misbehave himself, then you will be strapped to a chair and punished for each of his missteps. That’s… not a conclusion we came to lightly and it’s not one we wish to enact as you are a member of the crew, but we are not sure how else to keep Han in line.”

“Tch, do your worst,” you scoff. You nearly mirror his stance and cross your arms over your chest, but you think twice when you see the quirk of his brow at your tone. You have pushed your luck enough in the past twenty-four hours, so perhaps you need to hold back just a tad until Hongjoong is less… on edge with you. “I was ready to kill myself last night to stop him. What more can you do to me now?”

Now, it’s Hongjoong’s turn to scoff, and the huff of air that follows is so sharp it sounds like a whistle. He pushes off the desk in the same movement, arms falling down to his sides, and with each following word, he takes a step closer to where you stand.

“You think you can afford to be reckless and risk your life over someone as insignificant and pathetic as Han Jisung?”

He’s close enough to jab a finger into your sternum now, knocking hard against the bone just beneath your collarbone. His height disadvantage from last night is gone as well; he must have had time to make himself presentable before calling you up to be drawn and quartered (seemingly for Yunho’s amusement because he’s just having the absolute time of his life over there).

“Do you have every right to act that way with him? Perhaps you do, but you will not, under any circumstances, threaten your own life to prove a point under my command.” Hongjoong presses closer, enough to hiss his next words against the shell of your ear and leaving you to stare past his shoulder directly at Yunho. “I need you alive. When you agreed to be part of my crew, you trusted me with your life. And as such, I will not allow you to throw your own life around so foolishly. Understood?” The distance between you increases as he leans back. You expect more words from him but all he does is arch a brow and stare at you with inquiry to his gaze.

“Yes, Hongjoong,” you murmur before going back to chewing at your lower lip. Hongjoong catches your chin with his index finger a moment later though, forcing you to look back at him.

“Do not mistake my kindness last night for mercy, Y/N. I am your captain still and you will regard me as such.”

“Yes, Captain,” you grit out, teeth pressed so tight that your jaw hurts as you speak. Hongjoong laughs — whether it’s at your expression or the way you force the words out is unbeknownst to you, but he steps back to give you more space after you respond. Yunho hums from his place at Hongjoong’s desk. He slips the pen out to point the tip in your direction, a cruel smile pulling the corners of his lips up.

“It seems you were right after all, Captain,” he singsongs. “Here I thought you wouldn’t be able to keep her in line.” Hongjoong rolls his eyes a bit at that but does nothing more than sending a half-hearted glare back at Yunho over his shoulder.

“What’s going on?” You ask as you watch their brief interaction with a narrowed gaze of your own.

“Hm, nothing, nothing. Now, the real reason I don’t want you going on the mission to retrieve Mingi is that you will be going on the team to recover San.”

“The what?” You echo, brows rising at the mention of San. Hongjoong continues as though you didn’t interrupt, not pausing to answer your question.

“I don’t want to run the crew too thin as it is, but it’s best to send more people with Jisung in the off chance he does decide to misbehave. Once that team returns, you will be dispatched with Wooyoung to recover San.” Hongjoong pauses to smile a little. “That works out best for you, does it not?”

Frankly, Hongjoong has no reason to send you on the recovery mission for San. If he were truly punishing you, he wouldn’t even let you dream of it. So why?

“Why would you let me go on that mission knowing it’s what I want? Wouldn’t a true punishment be to not send me on that mission?” You inquire against better judgment. Hongjoong shoves his hands into his pockets and tilts his chin to the ceiling.

“The punishment,” he starts in a slow, drawling tone, “is refusing to send you on the mission you tried to plan yourself without my approval. And given how eager you are to both protect San and bring him back unharmed, I know that I can trust you to do that. Initially, I was going to send you alone on this mission but Seonghwa suggested sending Wooyoung along too.”

Even with Seonghwa locked up, they still work together on plans and missions. Despite fighting just yesterday as well. You purse your lips as you listen to Hongjoong talk, moreso because of the mention of Wooyoung and Seonghwa’s suggestion that he come along. Seonghwa knows of Wooyoung’s identity, as well as yours, and those facts combined leave you more baffled than anything else. Why the hell would Seonghwa suggest sending two Sirens off on a dangerous mission like this one?

Hongjoong pulls a hand out of his pocket to tap at his chin.

“Today will be a busy day for all of us, but it should be the last busy day for quite some time. If Jisung complies and everything goes according to plan, that is. Yeosang and Jongho will be leaving to accompany Jisung for Mingi’s retrieval in forty-five minutes. They are slated to return late afternoon. Should the mission go off without a hitch, you and Wooyoung will depart shortly after they get back. I will fill you both in on further details later when you are both present. I hesitate to interrupt whatever Yeosang and Wooyoung may be doing at present.” Yunho snorts at that comment, covering the sound with the back of his hand. “After today, you all will be able to have some time to rest and recover before we move forward. We won’t be leaving the planet immediately though. Seonghwa and I are to depart for a short mission of our own tomorrow.”

He doesn’t add any more detail to that bit of information. You can read the context clues and the shift in mood well enough though, and think you have a good grasp of what that mission might be. Subconsciously, your gaze flits over to Yunho again, but his expression is flat and unreadable, leaving nothing for you to pick up on. Hongjoong offers a strained smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Even though you had many missteps last night, your conversation with Seonghwa was, for the most part, not one of them. You did well and kept your promise to leave the decision in his hands in that regard. Your errors were only in what followed that conversation. It’s not easy for someone in your position to show such empathy, yet you managed to do so anyway. Given what Seonghwa and I talked about after you were dismissed, you… you managed to make him feel a bit more human and helped him recognize that his feelings are not obsolete. So, I thank you for that much. I won’t lecture you any further for now, but I do still have many qualms with how you handled Jisung’s taunting and how that behavior affected Seonghwa in turn. I’m in a decent enough mood to not lecture you about that right now. You have earned a sliver of my trust. Work hard to get my respect next.”

You arch a brow, fighting to hold back the scoff that threatens to spill forth.

“What makes you think I want your respect to begin with?”

Hongjoong matches your expression with a fire of his own, and some light returns to his grin.

“Arrogance.”

///

The cool metal floor of the bridge burns your knees even through the thick material of your pants. You’re trying your best not to let it affect you, but the combination of the freezing cold along with Hongjoong’s unending glare on your back is nothing pleasant. You can’t see his glare head-on, which could either be viewed as a good thing or a bad one depending on your perspective. Right now, however, you find it to be unsettling: the way you kneel in front of the observation window that still overlooks a mostly empty hangar bay with Hongjoong seated in his captain’s chair behind you. It would be entirely less frightening if not for the way Hongjoong is twirling a knife in one hand and humming under his breath, just faint enough for you to overhear although you don’t recognize the tune. With one leg crossed over the other and his chin propped up on his free hand, his position only exudes power. That’s very much a power you can feel all too well in this moment, knowing exactly what the intents and purposes of that knife are.

The captain is communicating with Yeosang through the comms system, and in turn, he’s keeping tabs on Jisung’s behavior throughout their mission. You’re banking on Jisung not acting out of line so you can preferably preserve yourself from further bodily harm, but the threat looms past your shoulder nonetheless. Jongho went along with the pair, another hopeful guarantee of Mingi’s safety, yet you were not even allowed to watch them leave thanks to your behavior last night.

The silence hanging between the two of you is deafening, and your thoughts won’t settle for more than a few seconds, so you’re the one to break the silence once it starts to drag.

“Could I ask you something about tomorrow?”

“Go ahead.”

“If Seonghwa were to regret his decision, what would you do?”

It might be a bit of a loaded question, one that he could very well refuse to answer, and his sharp inhale of breath makes you believe he might just do that. Then, a few breaths later, he speaks.

“There isn’t much I could do,” he admits. “Though I would do anything and everything in my power to ease the burden on his shoulders in that case. And you? What would you do if you reach San too late? If he’s already had the serum injected?”

“Do you truly believe he has?” You inquire back, and despite your attempts to sound firm and resolute, you come across more afraid than anything else.

“I know San’s resilience well enough to believe he would never do that, but that wasn’t the question. No matter how slim the chances of failure are, you must be prepared for any possible outcome.”

“Failure?” You retort, bristling a bit where you are seated. You cast a look over at Hongjoong through the reflection, moreso just to glare at him, but you don’t think he can see you looking. “Recovering San would never be a failure. The only failure on this mission would be not being able to retrieve him.” Despite those claims, you can’t shake the thoughts of San forgetting you in your dreams the previous night. You thought the worst pain imaginable would be finding him dead, but him forgetting you before you get the change to — no, it’s not good to dwell on those concerns now.

“Does that mean then that recovering him even at the cost of his memories is still a success to you?”

“The only failure would be not rescuing him,” you reiterate, pushing your tone a bit so it echoes through the bridge. Hongjoong huffs out a laugh. “During my time in the military, I was taught to accept any possibility on a mission. Even if it’s not what I want, I have to accept that a San who is alive and well but cannot remember me is better than one who is broken, gone, or worse.”

You dare to glance over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of Hongjoong’s face. He’s smiling a little, just enough to cast the shadow of a grin over his lips.

“You never would have passed for an Elitist, you know?”

“Is that supposed to be a criticism?”

“You are choosing the most logical option, yet your reasoning for doing so is purely emotional. Yeosang would have offered no explanation.”

“And yet he cried every night Wooyoung was gone.”

“Of course he did, Y/N. That’s not the point I’m trying to make,” Hongjoong states. He lifts a brow at you. “The key issue most people have when pretending to be Elitists is that they try to erase all signs of emotion. Elitists still have emotions and feel them as strongly as the rest of us. They merely ignore those emotions often in favor of more reasonable and logical outcomes. Yeosang could have cried every night for months straight, but if I had offered an illogical plan to recover Wooyoung, he would not have taken it.”

“I don’t believe that,” you counter, grumbling the words under your breath before turning back to the observation window.

“Did I hear my name? Are you guys gossiping about me without me?”

“Ah, there you are.”

You glance back immediately at the sound of the newcomer, catching the broad grin on Hongjoong’s lips as he too stands to greet Wooyoung.

“What took so long?”

“Yunho did my hair!” The man reaches behind his head and pulls back the top half of his hair as he matches Hongjoong’s smile with his own toothy one. The whole underside is a blinding blond, top half left black and hanging loose around his face. “Looks hot, doesn’t it?” Hongjoong releases what sounds like a snort then swipes a hand at Wooyoung’s. The movement sends a surge of panic through you for a second, not because you think Hongjoong would truly hit Wooyoung, but because of how the younger might react to the hasty swipe. He crushes that fear in an instant, laughing loud and clear as Hongjoong lands his palm on the other’s head and ruffles his newly dyed hair until it’s a mess atop his head.

“Ask Yeosang when he gets back. Did you make time to visit Seonghwa too?”

Wooyoung’s smile wavers some at that.

“I did, yeah.” Wooyoung glances down. Even with the odd angle, you can see the conflict in his features and the way his brows strain to keep from slipping further together. Hongjoong must see it too because he’s next to speak.

“…And?”

“It’s hard seeing him in that position,” Wooyoung says under his breath. “I’m not… not used to it and I hate every ounce of it. I don’t like seeing Seonghwa weak, and even though I know he’s not, it still feels like he is seeing him that way. Brings out old feelings I’d rather not revisit honestly.” Hongjoong brings a hand up to run through his fading blue tresses to hide the way his fingers tremble.

“I’m assuming Han wasn’t present when you went down there?”

“I went before they left this morning. With, um, with Yeosang, but Han seemed to be asleep the entire time. Didn’t move or look at us at least. We — we didn’t talk about anything important either.” Wooyoung’s gaze flits over to where you’re standing. You incline your chin a bit but stay mum, knowing the implication behind his words. They didn’t discuss anything related to Sirens, that is, which is mildly encouraging for you if that means anything at all. “Yunho was gonna head down there when we finished my hair too.”

If that surprises Hongjoong, the captain doesn’t let it show. It shocks you some, on the other hand, given that you’ve witnessed them fight and argue more than they’ve been civil in your time on the crew. Commenting on that won’t do you any good so you stay quiet, eyeing Hongjoong’s demeanor out the corner of your eye while he continues to speak to Wooyoung.

“Anyway, that’s not important right now. The mission?”

“Right, the mission,” Hongjoong mutters even though his mind seems to be elsewhere. He lifts a hand and beckons you closer, and you move to stand alongside Wooyoung near his chair. “Han disclosed the location of the military complex where San is being held. It’s further up in the Upper Echelon than the brother was but also more highly guarded.” Hongjoong pauses to spare a glance in Wooyoung’s direction. “Are you sure you want to come on this mission? I won’t force you if you don’t feel ready.”

At first, all Wooyoung manages is a thick swallow.

“I… I-I want to be ready,” he stutters after a moment of deliberation. “I want — I don’t want what happened to me to affect the well-being of the crew.”

“I can easily go in your place, Woo. I don’t mind if you don’t feel comf—”

“No,” Wooyoung interjects, shaking his head all the while, and Hongjoong actually falls quiet at the interruption. “No, then what? What’s your plan? You want to leave Seonghwa stuck in a cell with Yunho, who can’t fucking kill anyone, as his sole protector while some psychopath mills about the ship as he pleases?”

“Yeosang and Jongho will be back with Mingi by then. We have a plan for Jisung as well, to keep him somewhere out of Seonghwa’s vicinity and within reach. It will have to do temporarily, and besides, Yunho can step up when he needs to.”

“He can’t hold a gun without throwing up; what makes you think he has the balls to kill someone?”

“I — we’re working on that still, admittedly, but he’s getting better.”

“Hongjoong, I’m fine. I talked to Yunho yesterday and ran through the whole screening with him. He didn’t see an issue with me so I’m clear to go on a mission, and I am okay with going on a mission. I’ll be with Y/N the whole time, right? That should be enough! I know how to fight and defend myself. Whatever happened in that brothel shouldn’t bother me.” Wooyoung, if nothing else, is quite adamant, leaving forward into Hongjoong’s space a bit to clutch at his forearm. Hongjoong merely blinks down at the offending hand but does nothing to remove his touch before offering a hesitant nod.

“Okay, I trust you.”

“Are you worried about San?” Wooyoung inquires. His teeth sink into his lower lip moments later. If he aims to probe deeper into Hongjoong’s feelings, the captain does well to not let anything slip through his countenance.

“I worry for all of the crew. San is no different.”

“San is a bit of a special case though, isn’t he?”

Now that’s a first for you. The first you’ve heard such a thing be said about San, that is. You have known since the mission in Echidna that Hongjoong values and cares for San quite a bit. To this extent, however? You’ve not heard anything memorable. Hongjoong and Wooyoung share an unspoken conversation with just that ounce of information, and you are left to your bewilderment. Whatever it is they’re talking about, you have no idea. There’s no time to ask either because Hongjoong clears his throat and dismisses the topic as quickly as Wooyoung brought it up.

“I’ll put the coordinates of the warehouses in Channel 7, so tune over to that channel and sync your wristbands and earpieces. It will just be the three of us and Yeosang listening in this time. As soon as the others get back, Yeosang will bring Jisung to the bridge. I don’t want him with Seonghwa anymore, but we still need to keep him on lockdown for now. Jongho will take Mingi to Yunho and help look after him while you two are away. Yeosang asked to be connected for your sake.”

“Of course he did,” Wooyoung huffs. The roll of his eyes is nothing but affectionate, present but a faux annoyance.

“It’s just for precaution though; you won’t have any backup in there. Once you two are on the ground, you’re on your own.” The discomfort Wooyoung exhibits is minimal and hard to catch. It’s there, however, a shift from foot to foot and a glance over at the wall like something is about to jump out at him. Hongjoong pushes closer and drops his hands atop the younger’s shoulders. “I… hesitate to say this because I do not wish to take this choice away from you, but I think it is in everyone’s best interest to keep you off this mission.”

“No, no, I’m okay. I’m fine! I can go on the mission, Joong, I want to go on the mission,” Wooyoung rambles, head shaking frantically from side to side. “I’m strong enough, I can fight, I can r-recover San. With Y/N. We can recover San.”

“You don’t need to convince me of that, Wooyoung.” Hongjoong’s lips fold down. “I also don’t need you to go on this mission to prove that. I already know those things of you regardless.”

“I just… I w-want to be okay enough to go on the mission because everyone else is,” Wooyoung mutters loud enough for both you and Hongjoong to hear. “Everyone else is okay. I don’t want anyone to — to worry about whether I’m okay or not.”

“Wooyoung…” To your surprise, Hongjoong huffs out a laugh and cracks a strained smile. “My lieutenant has locked himself in the brig, my strategist has been tearing his hair out for days on end and I think I found a bald spot on the back of his head the other day because he’s been so stressed over recovering you, my bruiser is quieter and broods more than ever, and our dear ghost here is dealing with seeing an old teammate who manipulated her memories and kidnapped three members of the crew. I have not slept more than three hours in the past two days, and no more than twelve in the past week. The only person who is even mildly okay right now is Yunho, but that’s only because he is in denial about how much this is weighing on him and using physical pleasures as a way of coping with the stress. You don’t need to be okay because no one else is either. Not right now at least. It would taste a lie to pretend like anything about this situation is something you should be okay with. Once San and Mingi are both back and safe, and once Han Jisung is properly taken care of, then we’ll be able to rest and recover.”

“I — o-okay.” Wooyoung’s shoulders fall forward as he relents, but he doesn’t put up more of a fight. “Does Yeosang really have a bald spot though? I mean, I yanked his hair pretty hard last night because I got a bit carried away and saw something on the back of his head but I thought I was just seeing things. Is it actually there? Maybe I should be more gentle with his poor head then.”

“You — Wooyoung, I-I am not — this is hardly important!”

“Excuse you, my lover’s hair growth is extremely important!”

“He has a fucking bald spot, I already told you that much. Now, enough out of you, and get some legitimate rest while you can. Or if you’re feeling restless, you can see if Yunho needs help with anything in the medbay.”

“Yes, Captain.” Wooyoung bows his head a tad before sending a half-hearted wave in your direction. You return the gesture with a smile, watching him turn on his heel and exit the bridge the way he came. His shoulders are pushed back a bit more this time, there’s some confidence to his steps that he didn’t have when he came, and you can practically feel the relief that oozes off his body even when he’s out of sight.

“So that leaves just us then?” You ask once you tear your gaze away from the archway.

“We’ll keep Yeosang on the line since Seonghwa will still be unavailable. Nothing else about the plan will need to change.” Hongjoong turns back to sit in his chair once more, but you stay put, watching his movements out the corner of your eye.

“You mentioned going back out into the city tomorrow. When do you plan to leave for that?”

“If everything goes well today then… hm, we’ll probably leave the planet around three days from now? Just in case Yunho needs other supplies that we don’t have readily available here on the ship.”

“So there will be one last day here before we all leave? Where we should all be on the ship, I mean?” Teeth sink into your lower lip after you pose the question. Hongjoong’s gaze turns analytic and searching, but you offer no more information as it is.

“Yes…” He affirms after several seconds of hesitation. “Why is it you’re so curious?”

“Something has been bothering me since recovering Wooyoung from the brothel.”

“Enlighten me.”

In all honesty, you weren’t expecting to even get this far with the conversation. Part of you thought Hongjoong would shut you down before you got a chance to explain yourself, and all the thoughts you had of bringing this up to him were fleeting and momentary. The lack of prior planning makes you stop in your tracks and stutter over air.

“I – in, um, while Jongho and I were waiting for Yeosang to go through, I c-came across a girl who used to be on my team. Back in the military, I mean. She was a worker there and apparently has been since my team defected. It’s… I understand that I’m not in any position to ask for things, and she didn’t ask me to help her in any way, but I can’t help but to want to get her out of there. Seeing what Wooyoung suffered in there wasn’t pleasant, and I can’t rest easy thinking of her suffering the same way.”

Sure you promised Soojin that you would help her find leads on Ash and Juyeon without saying you would help her get out, but her only reason for not wanting freedom was the lack of a place to go. “I don’t have anything left out there beyond the House.” If you could do anything to convince Hongjoong to take her in, even just for a short period of time to get her back on her feet, that would be more than ideal.

“You can’t rest easy? Then forget about her.”

“I — what?” You should not have let yourself have an ounce of hope, it seems.

“Put her out of your mind and forget about her if you do not wish to imagine her suffering.”

“Hongj— Captain, I can hardly—”

“Y/N, your former teammates seem to have a streak of being less than kind. Don’t forget how you acted in your first few days on the ship. How can I trust someone I don’t even know to not do the same? And all things considered, I cannot trust your memory to recall the truth.” Hongjoong lifts his brows as he speaks. There is no anger in his features or in his tone; moreso a sense of finality that offers the smallest window for you to argue back on the matter. You take the chance nonetheless.

“She can vouch for herself seeing as she helped us escape. You can ask Jongho and Wooyoung as well, they witnessed it as well as how she helped me. Jisung tried to kill her the night of the mission — he sent an assassin to dispatch her before she could see me simply because he knew we would come across each other. And she told me part of what truly happened the night I killed the king, and I believe what she said.” You pause to inhale a deep breath of air, lungs straining from the sheer amount of air you are trying to force into them. “Captain, I am not looking for you to drop everything for her. The last two living teammates of my team left with her, but she was alone with no knowledge of where they are or if they are even alive.”

“Why waste time thinking of the dead?”

“Why forget about them when there is even the slightest chance they’re alive?” You counter. You don’t intend to sound so inflamed about the topic, but the heat resides in your tone and burns the tense air hanging between you and the captain. His jaw shifts. “I would be content even if you could only promise that I have a way to deliver information about them back to her if possible. I know you have contacts here on Dorado.”

“And I suppose you’ve come up with an entire escape plan as well?”

“I — no, I hadn’t thought of that. To be honest, I’m not even sure she wants to be saved, but that could only be because she doesn’t see a way out.”

“You have a knack for wanting to save people who don’t want to be saved. You and Seonghwa are similar in that matter, but there comes a time where you must realize you can’t be everyone’s savior.”

“What do you mean by that?”

One corner of Hongjoong’s lips quirks upwards, and he arches a brow to match the movement.

“Is it really that hard to figure out? The pardon papers, to begin with, the whole reason you even met the crew. Did you think I had no clue of what your intentions were on that military ship? Especially when my intentions were the same? Imagine my surprise when I arrived in the captain’s cabin to learn you had taken them already.”

“Why did you hold off on that information all this time?” You had been convinced at the time that it was for no other reason than to cause a bit of chaos and steal some cargo. But to find out that Hongjoong had the same goal? What’s his play here?

“I no longer need those papers so it would have been futile to mention them before now. They were meant to be a bargaining chip for the client I met on Echidna, but seeing as he is dead and gone… hardly important, no? But that’s beside the point — your intentions are what we’re discussing. Who were those papers meant for? Had they been for you, you wouldn’t still be lingering around the crew like this, would you? I think you imagined you would be able to save Jisung in some way with them.”

“Hardly!” You sneer back, clutching blindly at your chest as though to find the spot where you used to hide those papers. They aren’t there anymore, you know that, and yet you still ball a fist around the fabric over your chest. “They were never meant for him, but I didn’t imagine this was the kind of person he would turn out to be!”

“Then they were meant for this girl you came across? One of the other two who are missing? Or perhaps was it another, who is no longer present? What is it you think death really is, Y/N? Why do you keep clinging to someone who is no longer alive? What good does pardoning him do?”

You have no response or defense. Nothing you say will appease Hongjoong; you believe that with every fiber of your being, and the way he is staring you down currently offers no relief.

“You see, Y/N,” Hongjoong starts as he pushes up off his seat. He stays up on the platform with his chair, looming over you with the height of the stairs to his advantage, and now there’s a special glint to his gaze that leaves you transfixed. “Your issue that when it comes time to make a difficult decision, when push comes to shove, you turn tail and run. If I had given you a single key last night and told you that you had the power to release one person in the brig, who would you have chosen?”

“Seonghwa.”

“Who would you have chosen?” Hongjoong persists, stepping further into your space.

“What are you trying to get at? I gave my answer already. It would be Seonghwa, and that’s that.”

“And if it had been before the conversation we shared before you went into the brig?”

“It never would have been Jisung,” you snap back.

“All he had to say was ‘I’ll take you to San’ and you would have released him without a second thought.”

Fuck.

Fuck. You have to clench your jaw to keep from exhaling your frustration, but it only highlights your annoyance.

“You’re saying you wouldn’t?”

“No, I wouldn’t, because I know he would have given up that information eventually, Y/N.” Hongjoong’s gaze is anything but smug and gloating — if anything he’s regarding you with no emotion at all. It’s still enough to cause you to drop your chin to your chin and huff out a mirthless laugh.

“Is this the part where you say caring is weakness?”

“No, I would be quite the hypocrite if I said that. I’m telling you that you have to accept the fact that there are people who cannot be saved. Whether that’s because they do not wish to be saved or because it is impossible to save them. Let yourself care about people; that’ll keep you alive. But caring too much? There’s your weakness.”

“That’s bold of you to say, is it not? Where’s the line then, Captain? When it becomes love?”

“Love? Love is a concept made by weak people for those with even weaker wills.”

And when Hongjoong breathes those words, you almost believe them. Face value, meaningless terms such as love — what good have they ever done you? You and Seonghwa never loved each other, not truly at least because otherwise, things wouldn’t have fallen apart the way they did. Your memories tell you that Jisung loved you in some sense at one point but what did that do? Cause him to have a psychotic break? Cause you to ruin the only good you had in your life?

You hate the image that comes to the forefront of your mind. The memory that accompanies it is almost more painful.

“But I just feel like I’m broken glass that’s been put back together the wrong way.”

“Then I’ll take you apart and put you back together the right way.”

You clench a fist by your side, squeezing the skin around your knuckles in a way that has your nail digging into it. It does nothing to will away the dimpled smile in your mind, nor does it make your breathing come any easier, but Hongjoong continues on and offers enough distraction for you to ground yourself.

“Depending on how today and tomorrow go, I will consider our options and what’s possible for your friend. But I will not risk the safety of my crew again.”

“What happens once San and Mingi are back?” You inquire, head tilting naturally to the side. “Do you plan to kill Jisung and be done with it or…?”

Hongjoong’s initial response is a firm shake of his head.

“We’re already weak and spread thin as it is. I can’t risk endangering the crew further by starting a war between Jisung’s crew and ours.”

“Jisung won’t just leave if you ask him to.”

Hongjoong’s gaze flits over to the side, a hasty and clever avoidance of your stare as he finds purchase on some dent in the wall.

“Yunho and I did some talking last night… about the serum and how it works.”

“Is that your definition of pillow talk?” You scoff. Hongjoong jerks his head back in your direction and settles a sharp glare on you that holds little actual anger to it.

“Jisung knows a lot about it and how it works. Yunho hopes to be able to get some information out of him once he’s back with the others. We still have leftover vials from the Kebos mission. If you wanted, we could administer a dose on Jisung and make him forget all about you.”

“If I wanted,” you echo, pointing a finger at yourself as you emphasize the word.

“If you wish for the choice to be in my hands, then I can be cruel for you. But just as with Seonghwa and his mother, as well as Mingi and his choice to not use the serum, this is something personal. The choice is yours to make as he is your past and not mine.”

“I’ll consider it,” you whisper. The weight of that choice is undeniable even if tempting because of how glorious a revenge it would be to do the same thing he did to you back to him. Just doing it back to him won’t fix what Jisung did to you, however, nor will it bring Hyunwoo back from that empty grave. “You sure are giving me a lot of choices for someone who is supposedly upset at me.”

“Hm, well, you are also not allowed to go back to the brig unsupervised from now on. Does that work for you? Ample punishment?”

“Nevermind, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Punishment is never effective for people like you, Y/N,” Hongjoong retorts. “It doesn’t encourage you to do better because you do not care about having to go through some sort of punishment. Keeping you from going to get san would only make you more likely to go against my orders. You are someone who needs different consequences for your actions. You don’t like being held back or feeling small and powerless? I strip you of what power you imagine yourself to have and hold you back from minute things like going to the brig alone.”

“That’s not true,” you scoff, arms coming up to cross over your chest at the same time.

“Oh? And what if I told you right now that I was disappointed in your actions last night? That I thought I could trust you to not make rash decisions, to think with your head and not your heart? I told you earlier that I still have qualms about how you handled Jisung and what effect that had on Seonghwa. Whatever respect I had for you before then was lost in that moment. You may have a sliver of my trust, but respect? You lack that entirely.”

“Don’t say meaningless things, Captain, it doesn’t suit you.” You bite the words out between gritted teeth. If anything, your show of anger only amuses Hongjoong further. “That means nothing to me, as I said before. Why should I care about your respect?”

“Do you truly mean that, Y/N? People like you thrive off the approval of others. Is that not why you let yourself be entangled with Seonghwa for so long? I wouldn’t expect those feelings of respect to linger if I were you.”

“Do you simply thrive on taunting me?” The counter betrays how stupidly affected you truly are by his statements and questions. And deep down, sure, you know he is absolutely correct in saying all that, and you blatantly ignored a lot of things in favor of latching onto the respect and care Seonghwa provided, but for someone as arrogant as Hongjoong to point it out? You hardly want to agree with him now.

“Follow me.”

You could stand your ground and deny the captain, put on a little tantrum and show your denial, but in the long run, that would only prove Hongjoong right. So, against what you truly want to do, you push your legs into action and trail after Hongjoong when he begins to step away from his chair. Admittedly, you are waiting for the hammer to drop: perhaps he’s bringing you to an airlock and finally knocking you out of it. Nothing happens though, and you are left to glare at the clacking heels of his boots as he leads you further down into the ship. It isn’t until you reach your destination that you realize exactly where Hongjoong has taken you.

It’s a rich form of torture from him, to take you to the brig as though to taunt you with your regrets from last night. He doesn’t even bat an eye as he lifts the hatch and motions for you to enter. At the very least, Jisung’s cell is empty (as expected) and he cannot add to the mockery of your pride and dignity.

The moment your boots hit the floor, the rattling of Seonghwa’s chains resound. Hongjoong follows, hitting louder than you did, then the hatch snaps shut and seals you inside the brig like it’s your doomsday.

“Y/N?” Seonghwa calls out. He must have felt the tug in his chest that you did when you hit the floor, the tiniest bit of connection holding the two of you together. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder if Wooyoung perhaps felt the same just now.

Instead of finding you, however, Seonghwa is forced to greet Hongjoong first as the captain rounds the corner before you do.

“Joong…” Seonghwa starts, trailing off as he sees you standing just past the captain’s shoulder. “What’s the meaning of this?”

Hongjoong doesn’t answer immediately; he approaches Seonghwa’s cell and reaches a small hand between the bars to catch hold of his lieutenant’s chin. His grip isn’t tight or bruising, just enough to guide Seonghwa’s face up so he can look the other in the eye.

“What was it you told me last night after I dismissed Y/N?”

“…I would not repeat it in front of her, Captain.”

“You said you were scared. You were afraid of what you saw in her right then, that’s what you said. Was it not?”

“I — it was, yes, but I—"

“You told me that you saw a direct reflection of yourself in her. The version of yourself that you fear and hate the most. Did you or did you not say that?”

“Please, Hongjoong, is this not cruel?” Seonghwa begs. He doesn’t budge from Hongjoong’s grasp but he spares a few darting glances your way as he speaks. Hongjoong follows his line of sight to land on where you’re standing several feet away.

“This is a lesson in obedience for you, Y/N. You want to be feared? Fine, go out and be feared by our enemies. But your own crew should never be afraid of you. How do you expect them to trust something they fear?”

You clench your fists by your side. White-hot anger swells in your chest.

“That’s unfair. Do you say the same thing to Mingi?” You snap back, but you’re unable to bring yourself to look at Seonghwa.

“You are not Mingi, Y/N. Far from it actually. And as such I will not have my crew fear you or what you might do. You don’t care for my disappointment or respect? So be it. But I hope you dwell on the knowledge that Seonghwa, the man who knows you possibly better than anyone else on the crew, who has been with you intimately, laid with you in the most vulnerable positions possible, a man who has put his life and well-being in your hands, was afraid of you because of your actions last night.” Hongjoong’s fingers curl a little harder under Seonghwa’s chin, and the captain returns to staring the chained man in the eye when he speaks next. “I asked one thing of you last night, Y/N, and you promised to uphold it.”

“I am willing to trust you with this and with Seonghwa, at least for now. Take care to remember that, especially when it comes to Seonghwa’s heart. For if you mislead him in the slightest, there will be hell to pay.”

“Instilling fear into my lieutenant’s heart was a poor choice on your part.”

“It wasn’t — I didn’t choose to do that!”

“The ice under your feet is quickly cracking, Y/N, so I suggest you take great care with your next words and actions. Otherwise, I will make certain that your only purpose here is to be nothing but a key to my treasure.”

“Hongjoong, don’t you dare sa—”

His hold on Seonghwa disappears in a quick shove, the chains around Seonghwa’s neck rattling as he moves with the push. The lieutenant falls silent in an instant, and he squeezes his eyes shut as though to keep himself from fighting back. Your fists tighten by your sides but you don’t dare move when Hongjoong’s glare is so full of animosity that it could burn you from across the room.

“Be prepared to leave within the next thirty minutes before I change my mind about bringing you on this mission. The others will return soon.”

“Y/N — Hongjoong.” Seonghwa pushes himself up enough to stretch a hand through the bar and catch the end of Hongjoong’s coat tail. “Do not do this, please, this is far from what I wanted! You promised to protect her and—”

“And I am still protecting her. As long as she remains useful.”

“H-He, Y/N, he doesn’t — he’s not… that’s not what he means!”

“If you wish me to be your perfectly silent little weapon, Captain, then so be it,” you spit, ignoring Seonghwa’s pleas. Hongjoong yanks his jacket free of the man’s grasp and steps out of his reach. “But only because I benefit from this too. When it comes time for me to uphold my end of the bargain to Jisung, don’t expect me to be as willing to stay in your care.”

“Y/N, no, no, no—”

“You don’t get to talk, Seonghwa, not when you were the first to let me go.” That stops the lieutenant in his tracks because he knows you have him pinned there. Still, his jaw works in a hapless rhythm that leaves him with stuttering breaths and small noises of frustration.

“That was — that was before I-I knew what he was like, Y/N.”

“I won’t have this conversation in front of an audience, Seonghwa,” you mutter. It’s moreso an attempt to save yourself from the all too painful clench in your chest. If either man before you notices that, they opt not to comment on it, but Hongjoong gives a small shake of his head.

“Then you have thirty minutes to have it now. You had best be at the west airlock by then,” he says just before shoving past you with nothing more than a tiny glance back at Seonghwa. You are of half a mind to follow him out without a word, to leave Seonghwa where he is because you have been avoiding this exact conversation, but you can’t get your legs to function even after the hatch to the brig falls shut behind Hongjoong when he exits.

“I understand if you don’t want to talk to me, Y/N, and you don’t—”

“That’s not the issue here, Seonghwa,” you interject before he can finish the thought. The next sound to leave his lips is a laugh but it sounds so heartless and void of life that guilt twinges in your chest.

“Is it because I said I was afraid of you? Or has your heart finally grown cold towards me as I expected it to from the start?”

“Don’t say that.” You intend for the words to come out with venom, but they sound more like a heartbroken plea than anything else. Seonghwa licks the edges of his dry and cracking lips. “Do you think I’m so cruel?”

“It… no, Y/N, I don’t. It’s because I don’t that I think it’s only a matter of time.” Seonghwa forces a hand up to curl into his dark locks, tugging at the strands at best he can as his chains rattle around him. “I think your heart is too big for your chest, just like San. And even if it was not my intention, I think I used that against you in many ways.”

“I was the one who initiated things, Seonghwa. I asked you to… to have sex with me and distract me. I used you to start with, so I know I carry blame as well.”

“I still pushed you even though I knew how much San means to you.”

“That…” You trail off only because emotion lodges so deep in your throat that it hurts. Swallowing it back down hurts even more, but you manage it without more than a grimace. “At the time, I didn’t realize what that meant or what he meant to me. Even now, I don’t think I fully grasp what my feelings are towards him. That doesn’t mean — I never resented you, and I still don’t.”

“Separation has the power to make us realize things we were blind to,” Seonghwa mutters back. “It made me realize I was unfair to you, even after I promised I would not have you unfairly.”

“I didn’t think it to be unfair.”

“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t.”

“Why are you so desperate to be a martyr?”

“Why won’t you accept that I wronged you?”

“Do you want me to hate you?” You fire back, taking a quick step in Seonghwa’s direction. He straightens some and pulls himself to his knees.

“I don’t know how to fix the places where I went wrong. I… I wish to hear them from you if only to know that you know what I did wrong, or — or just understand that it’s not merely my mind trying to trick me.” Seonghwa looks weak again: pressed on his knees in a way that must hurt, head hanging to hide his eyes, fists clenched around the fabric of his pants. As confident and strong as he sounds, his posture only reads weakness.

“I never thought about it, Seonghwa,” you admit through the breath of silence that follows. “Perhaps we were both blind to it at the time because we — well, I thought you were all I had. I didn’t know what Wooyoung was at the time, I didn’t ever have another Siren in my life, and you were the first person I had with who I could share that burden. I understand withholding information about Wooyoung’s identity from the others, but why me? Especially given that you all knew there was some sort of connection between us. You still held that back from me until there was no more avoiding it. And you did the same with your… relationship with Hongjoong, and I’m not one to be jealous or demanding, but if you still loved him — and I think we both know how you feel about him even now — then I wish you had said that. I should have told you how I felt about San at the time as well, especially as I began to realize it more and more.”

“I would have told you about Wooyoung in an instant, I promise you that much, Y/N. If it had been my place, I would never have let you believe we were alone in that way. But Wooyoung was never ready to tell you until he didn’t have a choice any longer.”

“And as for your lingering feelings towards Hongjoong?”

“I should have told you sooner, yes. I truly believed… I didn’t imagine those feelings were still lingering until I was faced with almost losing him.” Seonghwa at last shifts his pathetic stance, folding his legs under his body until he’s in a more comfortable sitting position.

“When we talked about me leaving with Jisung, and — Seonghwa, you didn’t hesitate to say that your fate is to die at Hongjoong’s side. I just wanted you to ask me to stay. But you didn’t ask me to, and your first reaction wasn’t to do that either. You’ll never be mine, Seonghwa. Not completely, and… right now, in this present we’re living in, I don’t think you can ask me to be okay with that. If you love both of us, then so be it. I see no fault in that, and I’m not trying to say you are at fault for it either, but that moment hurt more than I think you realize.”

“Then I apologize,” he whispers. He lifts his chin just a hair, enough to look you in the eye and enough for you to see the steely resolution in his gaze.

“Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?”

“I believe there I need to apologize for many things. But primarily, I led you to believe I would be wholly yours knowing — knowing that I would never be able to give you that. Y/N, I did not lie to you once about how I felt. Even if my previous promises were empty in your eyes, please know I am genuine in saying that.”

“I’m sorry too, for not realizing my feelings sooner and leading you in a different direction all the while.”

“I have to respectfully disagree, Y/N.” Seonghwa smiles a little, although it’s a sad little grin that’s tight-lipped and doesn’t reach his eyes. “You didn’t lead me on, from my point of view. As you said, until Wooyoung’s revelation, you thought I was all you had. I think it was only natural for us to pursue each other on a physical level in that way. Feelings were bound to get complicated eventually. I knew they would because that’s how it was with Hongjoong so I… should have known earlier on.” Seonghwa lets out a shaky sigh. The smile crumbles and leaves no trace behind, only drifting into a thin line. “San cares about you a lot, Y/N, and I wish for you to have someone like him who can give you his all.”

“Bold of you to give such advice when you and Hongjoong continue to dance around each other,” you whisper through a grin. Either the words or the warmth of your tone bring a genuine huff of laughter out of Seonghwa’s chest.

“It’s what we do best. Yunho is good for him in lots of ways. He needs someone who can fuck with no strings attached and without feelings getting in the way of things. Yunho loves all of us in different ways, and how that love manifests is different for everyone as well. I cannot fault him for comforting Hongjoong the only way Hongjoong knows how.” Seonghwa squeezes his eyes shut, but the smile persists, and it looks more like he’s visiting an old memory somewhere in the back of his mind rather than that he is in pain. “Don’t worry about me, Y/N. You should focus on getting San back and making sure he does not slip through your fingers this time.”

“I think I’ll always worry about you, pretty boy.” You hate how fragile your tone is; there’s too much of a tremor to it, and you sound far too sad for the smile painting your lips.

“Always is a long time, princess.”

“Is that a problem?”

“I don’t mind always.” Seonghwa hums. It’s a content and pleased little sound, nothing indecent, yet his lips tremble even as he pushes his tongue between his teeth. If his eyes were open, you’re confident you would see red rimming his irises and clear tears ready to fall.

There is nothing left to say for now: maybe at some point in the future this is a conversation to revisit and resurrect, but now it’s final in a bittersweet sense. The feeling of walking away this time hurts more than it usually would, although you think you might be able to feel the ache in Seonghwa’s chest without being Sirens. There’s no use in wondering if he feels the ache in yours — the line between his pain and yours is a thin and blurring one, overlapping and twisting together with two threads of different colors. And if Seonghwa has always been a fire in your eyes, then his would be a bright red thread that twists around your finger and keeps you linked to him even as you leave the brig.

The time to feel sad and mourn the loss of whatever feelings lingered between you and Seonghwa is far from now. Perhaps that is cruel torture in and of itself. To lose the chance to mourn is something you think you’re familiar with, but there’s no guarantee that those memories are real. So instead of crying or letting the pain swell, you merely bite down hard on the tip of your tongue until that ache moves elsewhere. It’s enough for now; the thought of what your next mission is and how important it is chases all other thoughts away.

San has been gone long enough.

You’ll take him back if it’s the last thing you do.

“Y/N!”

That voice tears you free of the thoughts plaguing you, and you jolt to a halt in the middle of the hallway you’re currently standing in to find the source of the voice. There’s a flash of black before you. Panic thrums in your nerves, a quick fear that you might be under attack, but then something warm hits you. It’s like a wave, washing over your insides and dispelling that fear as quickly as it appeared.

“Wooyoung,” you exhale just before your eyes settle on his bright and smiling face.

“Mingi’s back, they got Mingi back! They’re coming in the airlock now, let’s go!” Wooyoung grins from ear to ear, the smile splitting his cheeks and making his face glow with joy. You let him grab hold of your wrist without complaint, and he tugs you further down the corridor. “They said he’s okay. Healthy too. Safe. He’s safe. They healed his wound at the warehouse to prep for his treatment, but Jongho and Yeosang got to him before they could hurt him any.”

“One step closer to having to leave,” you murmur, moreso to yourself than to the man before you. He picks up on the words nonetheless, and his hurried steps slow to a dragging walking pace that has you regretting opening your mouth.

“What?” He asks. The smile falls into a deep-seated frown, and you hate it. You hate it so much. The idea of leaving them like this, even if Hongjoong swore not to let you go, you don’t see any other way for this to end peacefully. The only way for everyone involved to come out of this safe and in one piece is for you to go along with your deal with Jisung.

“Nothing,” you whisper. Wooyoung tightens his fingers around your wrist.

“No, what do you mean by that? Having to leave?”

“Oh, come on, Wooyoung,” you laugh through your teeth. “Did you think there was no cost for getting the three of you back? Let’s just go see Mingi. We don’t need to talk about this now.” You try to pull your arm free of Wooyoung’s grip to no avail. All he does is yank you back to face him when you step around his body.

“What did you do?”

“What I had to, Wooyoung. He wasn’t going — he wouldn’t have helped us find you without a price.”

“And the price was you?” Wooyoung cries, loud enough to echo off the metal around your forms. “He doesn’t get to own you, Y/N!”

“It’s not ownership. I’ll go along with him long enough to — to figure something out, then I’ll leave and—”

“And what? You think a man like that will just let you leave?”

“Look, Wooyoung, I knew what I was getting into. I agreed to it myself because I wanted to and because it was the closest thing to a guarantee of your safety, as well as San’s and Mingi’s. If this is the price for your lives, then so be it. It’s okay.”

“Like hell it is. He’ll get my fist put through his throat for even thinking about it,” Wooyoung hisses, nose scrunching up as his face contorts into a scowl. You have to bite your tongue to keep from rolling your eyes.

“I don’t need you to protect me.”

“Too fucking bad.” Wooyoung shoves your arm down with a huff. You don’t even have a second to breathe before he’s rushing back down the hall, continuing your path from earlier and moving so quickly that you have to jog to catch up to him.

“You’re mad at me for saving your life?” You retort to his back. It does nothing to stop him, and the only reaction you get out of him at first is the tension in his shoulders. “As I recall, you threw yourself down for San and Mingi while captured!”

“That was to fucking protect all of us! I knew what I was doing, I knew I would be safe, and I knew they couldn’t hurt me any more than I’ve hurt myself, Y/N.” Wooyoung reels on you just before turning the corner at the end of the corridor. The rage in his expression is more than you can handle, much more intense than you imagined it would be. “We may be similar — we might have pieces of our pasts that line up and mirror each other. But don’t think for a fucking second that I’m supposed to roll over and let you do what I would do. I’m stupid, I’m a fucking idiot, I’ll take whatever punishment I think I can to protect people, and I always fucking go too far. You are going too far. And I refuse to let some asshole with a god complex pretend like he has the power to own another human being. You might be okay with the idea of it, you might think it isn’t as bad as you imagine it to be, but as for me? I refuse to let you lose your freedom. I will put myself on the line any day before I let anything happen to this crew.”

Your jaw stutters dumbly as you struggle to come up with a counterattack. Wooyoung doesn’t wait for you to figure one out either; he returns to his stampede down the hall and leaves you to play catch up once more. And admittedly, by the time you do catch up, there is nothing you could possibly do to keep him from reaching his end goal. Someone opens their mouth to greet him, but you don’t even have time to process whose voice it is before they’re cut short by Wooyoung’s next move.

“Wooyo—”

Wooyoung’s knee careens into a body and hits so hard that body crumples in half. It’s only when Wooyoung threads his fingers through dark hair and yanks upwards that you catch who exactly it is. Jisung stumbles with the motions, chains rattling and shaking as he does. Wooyoung gives him only a second to catch his breath before he’s shoving Jisung face first into the metal wall.

“Hi there,” Wooyoung huffs with another tug to Jisung’s scalp. “I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting officially yet. You’ve been quite lucky to be in the care of such merciful people.”

“You can’t possibly be the mongrel Y/N has been so distressed about, can you?” Jisung spits over his shoulder. Wooyoung grins wide at that, cheeks pressing upwards and eyes turning to half-moons.

“No.” Another harsh shove and Jisung’s head bounces against the wall. “No, Jisung, I’m the man who is going to make you regret every second of life you’ve had if you even think about laying another finger on her.”

You tug your stare off the pair to glance around, mostly in search of Mingi, and as Wooyoung said, the Berserker does seem relatively safe and unharmed. Almost like he wasn’t even gone aside from a fading bruise on his cheekbone. He’s got one hand balled into a fist and the other tucked into the safety of Jongho’s palm. It’s not enough of a guarantee that he’s okay mentally and emotionally, but at least seeing him visibly alright is reassuring in and of itself. Yeosang stands close to Hongjoong, unmoving and staring forward at Wooyoung without trying to stop him. Hongjoong himself doesn’t do anything either, and you realize then that this is a moment of retribution for all of them in some way. Even me, you think as Jisung writhes under Wooyoung’s tightening grip.

“Get in line then,” he manages to hiss, even if it’s muffled by the wall. “These three dumbasses already left me with many colorful threats the entire way back here.”

“Oh, I will, but you should be aware that there is one person at the end of that line who will end your life in a heartbeat for even thinking you could own Y/N. And he’s about to come back to this very ship that you’re trapped on. So how about you start barking again and see what happens?”

Hongjoong finally pulls forward, and when he does, he wears a wide smile and folds his arms over his chest. He only steps forward enough to lurk just past Wooyoung’s shoulder, standing with a slight tilt so he can look at Jisung out the corner of his eye.

“Checkmate, Han. Let’s see what good your dogs can do with their king backed into a corner.”

✧✧✧ a/n: oakyoakyokayokayo so admittedly i ended up splitting this chapter up and moving the second half of it to the NEXT chapter bc yeah this one would have been over 20k if i didn’t whoopsie! but here we are lots of talking ! in this one, the action comes in the next one bc of the way i shifted things so eheheheh :3 the next might comes sooner than usual we shall see ;) as always ! let me know what u think n how u feel !

taglist: @faeriewoobin @sugarrimajins @atinyinwonderland @sparklychangbin @jeong-uwu @jeonartemis @anothershorthuman @xxbluestrifexx @haotheheckk @noonawriter @lostscenarios @nlost21 @mirror-juliet @purple-aeon @theoinkypiglet @toothlessshiber @atinyarmyx1 @simpforhyunjin @hwangwoosan @softyubi @drumboydowoon @chatsgotmytongue @just-a-starfruit @babydolljo @scintillating-souls @khjssss @icekdy @eggteez @bangtanxberm @uglychildd @lucymultistan @revehosh @choistan @vampyrejimin @unminuit @vitaminkel-c

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

#ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez angst #mists of celeste #mingi x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yeosang x reader #jongho x reader #san x reader #wooyoung x reader #yunho x reader #ateez angst fluff smut #ateez series #ateez pirates #ateez space pirates

377 notes · View notes

aliwritesfic · 3 years

Text

The Night Shift Part 6 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

Summary: It's Saturday, your dickhead boyfriend is out of town, an old friend is in town, and it's time to get drunk!

Warnings: Drinking, mention of drug use, crippling self doubt

W/C: 4.3k

Spotify

Part 1 Part 7

Somehow, the week went exceptionally well. You bugged Frankie each day for the photo he promised you, and each time he grinned and told you that good things came to those who waited. On Wednesday you received a call from the vet telling you the kitten was going to be fine, and she would be put up for adoption when she was old enough. You were initially crushed that the kitten wasn’t going to be yours, but told yourself it was good she was bound to go to a good to a family. You couldn’t give the kind of life a cat deserved.

But most of all, you were almost unreasonably excited for the weekend. You bounced with excitement every time you thought about it - hell, even things with Kurt seemed to be going better. He had planned a hunting trip up north with a few of his friends, and would be gone from Thursday til Monday. He had brought you a bunch of flowers when he ‘broke the news’, not your favourite kind but it was the thought that counted. An entire four days to yourself was more than enough incentive for you to almost force him out the door on Thursday afternoon. With a kiss and a packed lunch and a promise to call, he was gone and the apartment was blessedly empty.

Even better, your best friend Sara was in town.

Fifteen minutes after you watched Kurt’s car pull out of the apartments parking lot, watching the window carefully to make sure he didn’t come back, you called her.

“Can we do something on Saturday? Get drunk, do bad things, anything?” You said by way of greeting.

“Oh hell fucking yes, I’ve been waiting for you to be fun again!” Sara said. You knew that was a not so subtle jab at how much you had changed since Kurt entered your life. You ignored it, like you usually did.

“Saturday sound good to you? I work Friday night and I can’t take it off.” More like you didn’t want to take it off.

“Saturday sounds fantastic. There’s a big fight night happening, and I wanna watch some hot sweaty guys pummel each other.” Sara said. “We can get drunk at the same time. Also I can get some molly if you want.”

“I’ll think about it,” you said, not entirely opposed to the idea of spending the night high as shit. Especially if Kurt wasn’t going to be there to yell at you for it.

“Let me know, sooner rather than later so I can sort it out with my guy,” Sara said. “Anyway babe, I’ve gotta jet, I’ve only got five minutes left on my break and I haven’t eaten yet, love ya!”

“Love you too,” you said, meaning it with your whole heart. Out of all the friends you once had, Sara was the only one who had stuck around after you started dating Kurt. At first, you had choked it up to jealousy, convincing yourself all your other friends were envious of your perfect relationship with a perfect guy. Now looking back, you could see what really happened: you had ditched them. Completely and utterly. Kurt had taken up all of your time, convincing you to stay in when you had plans to go out, telling you that the girls you would have trusted your life with only barely put up with you and it was just so obvious to anyone with an outsider's perspective that they didn’t really like you. You were grateful for Sara, more than words could say.

~*~

Saturday came quickly, and before you knew it, Sara was slamming her fist on your door, a bag stuffed with alcohol slung over her shoulder.

“Bitch!” she screamed in greeting when you finally opened the door, still wrapped in your towel from your shower. She was already dressed, in a tight gold 70s style jumpsuit that made her dark brown skin look like it was glowing from the inside out.

“How do you manage to look so good all the time?” You said, stepping aside to let her in.

“Witchcraft,” Sara said, pulling a bottle of prosecco out of her bag and popping it open. “And like, this whole thing took me all day. Why aren’t you ready yet?”

“I’ve been sleeping all day,” you said, plucking the bottle out of Sara’s hand and taking a swig. It was cold and crisp and filled your partly empty stomach. You continued to take small sips as you got ready, occasionally asking Sara for her girly wisdom on what to wear. She picked out your outfit as you applied makeup. It felt almost foreign, using something other than a mascara and brow pencil. The use of colour and shimmers almost felt like breaking some unwritten rule you had created for yourself since dating Kurt.

“What happened to all your fun clothes?” Sara whined, going through your wardrobe. You shrugged, carefully applying bronzer. Honestly, you weren’t sure. Sometimes things just went missing - you didn’t really question it anymore.

“I’m a miracle worker.” Sara declared after almost fifteen minutes of searching. You looked up at her, then at the small bundle of clothing in her arms. She grinned and flung the pile at you. You held up a black pleather skirt that you hadn’t worn in almost a year, and a black body suit that dipped low in the chest.

“Christ,” you muttered.

“What’s wrong with it,” Sara sounded exasperated, like she had been expecting this from you.

“It’s just-” you hesitated. “I’m not going out to get dick, you know? What’s wrong with a pair of jeans?”

Sara rolled her eyes. “What’s wrong with a pair of jeans? I’ll tell you what: everything. You don’t have to have dick as the aim of the night to look cute. You can look cute for yourself. You know just as well as I do that skirt makes your legs and ass look amazing, especially when paired with the shoes I’ve brought for you. Plus, if someone out tonight decides you look cute enough to buy you drinks, then even better! Because free drinks! You don’t have to fuck them as a thank you, you can just turn around and walk away. So, get dressed and stop complaining.”

You considered Sara’s words for a moment. She was right. After you changed, you admired yourself in the mirror. Your ass really did look amazing, and the strappy black heels that Sara had loaned you accentuated your calves magnificently. Sara stood next to you, arm linked through yours, almost a foot taller in her platforms and with her afro teased to the high heavens.

“God, we’re sexy,” she murmured, taking another swig out of the bottle. “You’re absolutely wasted on Kurt.”

You didn’t bother with your usual retorts to that kind of comment. She’s wrong, you’re lucky to have someone to love you like that at all, no one else would want to if they got to know you, you told yourself. It’s what he had told you over and over again, the words searing themselves inside your brain to repeat each time you began to truly doubt with him.

You finished off the prosecco while you waited for the Uber to arrive, enjoying the warm buzz it left you with. Sara whipped out her phone and began to take photos of the two of you. At first, you shied away from the camera, the words Kurt had said once in a throwaway comment, surely not designed to hurt but did anyway, rang in your ears. You don’t look very good in photos, why do you take so many? After that, you would spend hours staring at old photos of yourself, the flaws that were invisible now glaringly obvious.

Tonight though . . . Tonight you felt pretty. You posed for the camera, following Sara’s instructions as best you could. You took photos of each other throughout the entire ride to the venue where the fight night was taking place.

It looked a little shabby on the outside, overgrown hedges snaked up the walls, covering the windows. A smoking area was off to the side, crowded with people. The inside was even more crowded, with bodies pushing up against the horseshoe shaped bar and surrounding the ring. Two women were in the ring, both bloodied and swinging.

“God there is just something so arousing about hot people consensually beating each other up,” Sara said, unable to tear her eyes away from the ring.

“Babe, you’re drooling,” you joked, stepping in line for the bar.

“I can’t help it, I have an overactive salivary gland,” Sara sighed, tearing her eyes away. “At least my dentist says so.” You grinned at her and ordered three vodka sodas each. It was a tradition with the two of you that you would always order three drinks at a time. Less back and forth, you had reasoned. Although, usually as the night progressed, three drinks were downed in the same amount of time it took to drink one, so it really cancelled itself out in the end.

As tradition warranted, you and Sara cheersed and swallowed your first drink in one breath.

Several more fights occurred, the divisions eventually changing from women’s to men’s. Neither you nor Sara paid much attention to the first few fights: “amateur hour” Sara had said to you “I’m waiting for the good stuff.”

The good stuff, it turned out, started almost an hour and 5 drinks after you arrived.

“Next fight, King V Miller!” The announcer shouted into the microphone to the cheer of the crowd. Sara’s head shot up as if she could sense the sudden change, and she grabbed your hand, tugging you closer to the ring.

“Oh, my god look at him,” Sara said, gesturing to the ring. You knew instantly which one she was talking about. He was tall, with shaggy blonde hair and lean muscle corded over his body.

“He’s pretty spry,” you said, and instantly cringed. Spry? Really?

“I wanna fuck him tonight,” Sara said. Then her voice took on a determined edge. “I am going to fuck him tonight.” Manifestation, Sara called it. If you told the universe what you wanted, the universe would deliver.

Apparently.

“I am going to get more drinks,” you told her. She nodded, not tearing her eyes away from the fighter. You went to the considerably less crowded bar- it seemed like everyone was now watching the fights- and leant against its sticky surface.

You shouted your order over the noise of the crowd, and scanned the bar as you waited. Most faces were familiar in the way that you knew when you had seen someone before, but you didn’t know when or where. That was, until you landed on one dazzlingly familiar face, standing almost right next to you.

“Frankie?”

~*~

Frankie startled at the sound of his name. He looked around, expecting to see one of the boys or maybe an old work friend from the mechanics. The last person he expected was you. But there you stood, looking so good that he was momentarily lost for words.

“Frankie!” You said again, with a huge grin on your face this time.

“Hey!” He grinned back, “what’s a girl like you doing in a dump like this?” His tone held a flirty edge, one he wouldn’t dare have used if he hadn’t already had several bourbon and colas.

“Oh you know, I plan on accosting the winner tonight of all their prize money and taking off into the night, never to be heard from again,” you accepted three drinks from the bartender as you spoke. “What about you?”

“My friend Benny is fighting tonight. He’s actually up right now, the blonde one.”

Your jaw dropped. “No way! My friend wants to fuck your friend.” You pointed your chin towards a tall black woman, dressed like she had wandered out of Studio 54. “Is he single? Can we play wingpeople?”

“He is, we can.” Frankie nodded confidently. Maybe it was the alcohol controlling his brain, but any excuse to spend time with you seemed like a good excuse. “How should we do this?”

“Does your friend Billy-”

“Benny.”

“Benny stick around after the fights?”

“Yeah, he gets free drinks,” Frankie said. You nodded approvingly, taking a sip of one of your own drinks. Frankie watched amazed as you somehow held the two others in one hand, your fingers curling around the hard plastic cups.

“How do you do that?” He asked.

“Do what?”

“Hold your stuff like that,” he gestured to your fingers. You looked down, confused.

“Whatta’ya mean?”

“With your fingers.”

“Oh! Um, I dunno, I just do.” You shrugged and placed the now empty up on a random table, and started on the next drink. It occurred to Frankie that you were well on your way to being very, very drunk.

The crowd cheered loudly as Benny knocked out the other guy with a bloody grin. Frankie whistled his support and Benny caught his eye, saluting tiredly. Santi also caught his attention, and even across the room Frankie could see the wicked grin form on his face. Frankie looked away quickly, not willing to give the bastard any ideas.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Frankie asked, trying to keep his voice casual.

“Some stupid place doing some stupid hunting,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “Fuck him anyway he never lets me do anything fun.”

“What do you mean ‘lets you’?” Frankie said, his brow furrowing.

“I mean, he’s a controlling dickhead!” You said, then slapped a hand over your mouth. “Don’t tell him I just said that! Please!”

“I won’t, I promise,” Frankie said.

“Just forget I said anything,” your voice had taken on an almost desperate edge.

“It’s forgotten,” Frankie lied. He didn’t know how, but he was going to bring it up later. The idea of your boyfriend ‘not letting’ you do something had taken root in his brain, and somehow it made him furious. He took a deep breath, counting slowly to calm himself down.

“Who’s that guy who keeps making faces at you?” You asked, gesturing across the bar. Frankie sighed.

“Santi.” Frankie rolled his eyes at his old friend and waved him over. His curly hair friend bounded over, flashing you with a brilliant white smile.

“Well, hello there,” he said, winking at you. “Santiago Garcia, but you can call me whatever you like.”

You smiled sheepishly and gave him your name, “I work with Frankie.” Santiago’s grin widened at this piece of information, and Frankie groaned internally.

“You’re the girl Frankie told me about.”

“Chatting shit, I’m sure,” you laughed, but Frankie didn’t miss the questioning glance you sent his way when you spoke.

“Santiago was the one who took that photo I told you about,” Frankie said quickly, not wanting you to get the wrong idea. You nodded and leant over towards Santi.

“He keeps promising to show me but he’s yet to deliver,” you said, winking at Frankie. His stomach jumped, breath caught in his throat. He knew you were joking but he couldn’t help but feel like he had disappointed you somehow.

“That’s my fault,” Santi said, “I keep meaning to get him a copy but since he’s sleeping all day I haven’t been able to.” You nodded and turned to Frankie.

“I should go find my Sara before I lose her for the night,” you said, looking at Frankie. “Come find me - I mean, us later? With your Benny?”

“Yeah, of course,” Frankie said, watching as you disappeared into the crowd. The urge to grab you and kiss you grew with every second, but he restrained himself. He wasn’t that kind of guy, and no amount of drinks would make him think it would be a good idea to do that to someone. Let alone you.

~*~

Frankie’s head was cloudy with alcohol, he couldn’t stop thinking about how good your ass looked in that tiny skirt, how he wanted to plant his face directly in your chest.

“Fucking hell, get a grip,” Santiago said, shaking his friend by the shoulder. They were back in the locker rooms, Benny was buzzing with his win. He and Will were going their post match ritual of smacking each other on the back and releasing loud “woo”’s.

“I’m fine,” Frankie insisted, and Santi scoffed.

“You’re full of shit,” he said. “Ironhead, tell this idiot he’s full of shit!”

“You’re full of shit, Fish!” Will said automatically. “But what’s he full of shit for?”

“He’s in denial about pining for the chick he works with,” Santi said. “Look at the poor bastard, it’s written on his face.”

“Fish, you’ve never been good at keeping a straight face when it comes to emotional crap,” Benny said. “All other stuff, you’re great. Just not when it comes to matters of the heart. Or the dick.”

“You should’ve seen the way he was looking at her,” Santi laughed. “And the way she was looking at him, making bedroom eyes at each other.”

Frankie rolled his eyes, ignoring how the last comment made his heart leap. “You’re all stupid, she’s just a work friend saying hi. Nothing more.”

“Full of shit!” Benny cackles. “Look at his blush!” Frankie groaned. They were right about him at least. He had it bad for you.

But that didn’t matter. You had a boyfriend, and even if everything Frankie found out about the guy made him resent him a little more, he couldn’t change that one important fact. And he wasn’t stupid enough to ruin the beginings of his friendship with you over a stupid fucking crush. He just wasn’t.

Benny showered, singing You Belong With Me and switching out the pronouns as he did. The man was an unashamed Swiftie, claiming that she had a song for every situation. Frankie pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep swig of his beer. Will sat beside him and nudged him gently.

“What are you gonna do?” he asked.

Frankie frowned. “What? I’m not gonna ‘do’ anything. She has a boyfriend, end of story.”

“Sorry to hear that man,” Will said, sounding sincere. He knew Frankie wasn’t the type of guy to wreck someone else's relationship for purely selfish reasons. “You’re a good man.”

Frankie wished he wasn’t.

Benny changed into his regular clothes quickly, and said something about needing a drink. The four of them left the locker room and made their way to the bar, and Frankie couldn’t help but look around for you. When he couldn’t see you, he bit back the slight disappointment that sank in his stomach. Benny brought a round for the group and they found an empty table to sit at. The employees of the bar were dismantling the ring to make room for a dance floor. Loud, thumping music started playing and within moments the floor was packed with bodies.

“Frankie! And Frankie’s friends!” Frankie looked around at the sound of your voice, which was high with excitement. You bounded over, clutching the hand of the friend you had pointed out earlier. You introduced yourself and your friend Sara to the group and pulled up a chair for you and Sara each. Frankie didn’t miss how you placed Sara’s chair next to Benny, or how Benny was staring at Sara with his mouth slightly open. He also noticed with a slight pang how you sat yourself between Will and Santi, directly across from him.

What he didn’t was how much you kept looking at him. Lucky for him, Santi and Will noticed plenty.

You and Sara spent a few hours with the group, until a not so inconspicuous Benny and Sara both disappeared, Sara throwing a wink towards you as she left. Will left not long after, saying that his bed was calling his name. Santi stayed a little longer, flirting with you much to Frankie’s annoyance. To his credit, he didn’t show you the catfish photo. Frankie wanted to show you that one himself, when you were both sober.

“I better head out,” Santi said as it rolled past three in the morning. “I’ve gotta babysit Lee tomorrow, and you know how hyper he is.” He turned to you and kissed your hand. “It was the deepest pleasure meeting you, don’t be a stranger. Frankie.” Santi raised an eyebrow and shot him a meaningful look.

“Good night,” he said a little forcefully, shoving Santi towards the door, mainly to get him to stop flirting with you. He knew the flirting was just incentive to spur him into some kind of action with you, but it wasn’t going to work.

“Your friends are nice,” you said, struggling to connect the straw of your drink with your mouth.

“They’re assholes most of the time. They’re just nice to beautiful women.” Frankie regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. Shit! Now she thinks I think she’s beautiful. She is! But she doesn’t need to know I think that! Frankie finished off his drink to avoid looking at you.

“I’m attractive til they get to know me,” you said with a snort.

“What makes you think that?” Frankie asked, confused as to how that could work.

“I don’t think,” you said, “I know. It’s a fact. One that cannot be argued.”

Frankie was about to argue with you about this when you turned away, stumbling as you did. She’s super fucking drunk, Frankie thought, grabbing your arms to steady you. Your skin was so much softer than he anticipated, sending a jolt through him. He let go quickly, mouth going dry as you beamed up at him.

“You saved me!” You declared, then finished your drink quickly, emitting a small burp. “To thank you, I must give you a token of my gratitude. I know! A drink! Three drinks for the kind sir! And three for me!”

“Jesus, how much have you had?” Frankie asked, laughing.

“Only a little bit,” you shrugged and thought for a moment. “Maybe like, a dozen vodka sodas and some shots and also half a bottle of prosecco. And also a teeny tiny bit of molly, but that was hours ago, so it’s basically gone.”

“Maybe I should walk you home,” Frankie suggested gently, amazed that you were still upright let alone getting served. You shrugged.

“I can just get an Uber or something, it’s fine.”

“No, no, don’t waste your money, let me walk you.”

You looked up at him with slightly unfocused eyes. “Yeah, okay.”

The cold air outside hit the both of you like a wall. Stars scattered across a moonless sky, leaving Frankie wonderstruck for a moment, until he noticed the goosebumps on your arms. Without a second thought, Frankie took off his jacket and placed it gently around your shoulders. You looked up at him, a surprised look on your face.

“Frankie, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, so, I have this friend, right? And she’s been dating this guy for years now. They live together, no kids or anything. But she told me a little while ago that she’s been feeling . . . trapped.”

“Trapped?”

“Yeah. Like, she doesn’t think she loves her boyfriend anymore. At least, not in a way that she should. And he’s so mean to her, too. He doesn’t hit her or anything, but he’s also not super nice to her, and-and she doesn’t always know what she did to deserve it. She doesn’t know what to do.”

“Can she leave?” Frankie suspected you weren't talking about a friend, but he didn’t press beyond what you were willing to tell him.

“Not easily, I don’t think. She doesn’t have enough money for her own place and- and she’s afraid.” Your face flushed.

“What’s she afraid of?”

“Being alone. Unloved. She doesn’t have any family or anything and her boyfriend is the closest she has to that. So um, if she was your friend, what would you say to her?”

Frankie was thoughtful for several moments. He didn’t want to fuck this up. If his suspicions were correct, you were talking about yourself. “Well, first of all I would tell her that her boyfriend is a massive dick, even if he doesn’t hit her, boyfriends shouldn’t make their girlfriends feel like shit. I would tell her to talk to her friends, ask for their help. I would also tell her that being alone doesn’t have to mean lonely, and it certainly doesn’t mean that she’s going to be unloved.”

You nodded thoughtfully at this. Frankie took this as a good sign. “She can’t know for sure what her life will be like, but my guess is that it will be better if she chooses to leave this asshole.”

The rest of the walk was spent in silence. Frankie knew you were thinking about what he said. He too, was lost in thought. Trying to figure out a plan to help you in any way he could. All too soon, you arrived at your apartment building.

“Thanks for this,” you said, taking off the jacket and handing it to him. Frankie nodded.

“You needed it more than me,” he said simply. “I’ll see you at lunch tomorrow?”

You nodded, and then as if you weren’t entirely sure if what you were about to do was a good idea, you wrapped your arms around him. Frankie stiffened for a moment before hugging you back, holding you to him tightly, breathing in your scent of perfume, sweat, and alcohol. You were warm and soft and everything in him was screaming don’t let go.

“Thank you,” you whispered in his ear, and he knew you weren’t talking about the jacket.

Taglist: Taglist: @hnt-escape @sharkbait77 @1800-fight-me @annathewitch @darnitdraco @frankiecatfish @punkerthanpascal @nakhudanyx @gracie7209

#the night shift #frankie x reader #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier

77 notes · View notes

theartofdreaming1 · 3 years

Photo

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and random thoughts on chapters 25-27 are below the cut.

heart

The imagery that really caught my attention this time was Peeta pointing out the changes in the moon to Katniss: The only indication of the passage of time lies in the heavens, the subtle shift of the moon. So Peeta begins pointing it out to me, insisting I acknowledge its progress and sometimes, for just a moment I feel a flicker of hope before the agony of the night engulfs me again. - So for one, we see another example of Peeta focusing on the small details in life (which I’ve previously hypothesized to being an important element in his recovery from his hijacking) as well as Peeta being the one to give Katniss hope, even if it’s just for a brief moment. Also, it’s a nice parallel to Katniss looking at the moon and desperately wishing for it to be “her moon” back in chapter 23. As a nocturnal person, I also love watching the moon from my living room window🌙

mind

Hmmh, I don’t think that Katniss and Peeta’s win was predetermined - although I do believe that by introducing the romantic angle, they significantly improved their odds. A Career winning the Games is not really that special and exciting, since it happens so often (although Careers generally satisfy that excitement for violence/blood/gore, that plenty of Capitol people seem to share). As a volunteer from District 12, who achieved an extremely good training score and proved herself to be very capable in the arena already, Katniss definitely had an edge by playing into the classic underdog story, which offered another exciting “narrative” for the Capitolites to follow - that, coupled (heh) with the romance angle Peeta introduced? Katniss (and Peeta) definitely had the entertainment (and excitement through novelty) factor on their side. Ironically, Cato’s chances of winning were not as good as he expected, precisely because he was playing it by the book.

soul

Poor Peeta (and Katniss), it hurts that their relationship was in such a rocky place by the end of the book. Especially those weeks right after the end of Book 1, when there were still cameras around District 12 and they had to pretend while hurting must have sucked big time🥺

Chapter 25

Ugh, the muttations are just so unsettling... *shudder*

Honestly, I’m just so impressed by Peeta’s presence of mind to draw that X on Cato’s hand, after he had just most of his calf ripped off, only to be grabbed and put in a headlock by Cato! He and Katniss work insanely well under pressure

God, Cato’s death is just so gruesome and awful... In the end, his “gift” from the Feast doesn’t help him win at all, but instead ends up prolonging his suffering a cruel amount... I wonder if in general these “gifts” come with a string attached (aside from the expected danger of trying to get them, I mean) - because the Gamemakers also intend for Katniss’s “gift” (medicine for Peeta) to force an even more cruel outcome on her - saving him from blood poisoning only to be forced into killing him herself... 🤔

I’m not sure if this is exactly medical protocol, but I’m terrified that if he drifts off he’ll never wake again. “Are you cold?” he asks. He unzips his jacket and I press against him as he fastens it around me. - Katniss is terrified of the idea of Peeta dying; at the same time, Peeta worries about her freezing - I can’t with these two 😩

Peeta begins to doze off now, and each time he does, I find myself yelling his name louder and louder because if he goes and dies on me now, I know I’ll go completely insane. He’s fighting it, probably more for me than for him - Katniss can’t lose any more people she cares about 😢; on a different note, Peeta fighting his unconsciousness “probably more for [Katniss] than for him” points out one of the crucial elements Katniss brings into Peeta’s life - she is that someone for whom he will fight - including for his own life and well-being - even when it feels easier to give up... Having that person in your life that keeps you going can make all the difference - if Katniss hadn’t had Prim and promised her “to really, really try” to win (and later also made Rue the same promise), I’m not sure she would have made it this far; it’s the thought of Prim anxiously watching her after Rue’s death, that forces Katniss to keep going, to not give in to despair after that particular traumatic event - Peeta, on the other hand, didn’t really have that kind of person in his life, as he will point out on the beach in CF (and Katniss acknowledges herself that the only person who will be devasted if Peeta dies is her)... that is not to say that neither Katniss nor Peeta aren’t fighters on their own - but it helps to have someone that inspires you to not give up

the adrenaline pumping through my body would never allow me to follow him, so I can’t let him go. I just can’t. - We’ll see the mirrored version of this by the end of Mockinjay

Pity, not vengeance, sends my arrow flying into [Cato’s] skull. - Another act of rebellion, technically (sure, this can be spun as Katniss killing Cato so she and Peeta may win - before Peeta dies from blood loss - but we know better - Katniss’s motivation was compassion for her supposed enemy)

We inch down to the tail of the horn and fall to the ground. If the stiffness in my limbs is this bad, how can Peeta even move? - Peeta is tough as nails, yo!

Before I am even aware of my actions, my bow is loaded with the arrow pointed straight at his heart [...] I drop my weapons and take a step back, my face burning in what can only be shame. “No,” he says. “Do it.” [...] “I can’t,” I say, “I won’t.” - In spite of her initial reflex, Katniss chooses Peeta/ chooses not to kill him; it’s a recurring theme in their relationship (despite her wariness of others, she chooses to open up to Peeta eventually; although she vowed to never marry and have children, she’ll choose to have a family with Peeta); also, my psychology-brain just noticed how this moment illustrates how harmful thoughts/impulses don’t have to determine your actions and are not an indicator of who you are - it’s about what you choose to do

“You’re not leaving me here alone,” I say. Because if he dies, I’ll never go home, not really. I’ll spend the rest of my life in this areny trying to think my way out. - Again, makes me think of MJ; also, I think that from this point onwards, Katniss and Peeta are officially linked together forever; the bond they forged during this traumatic experience will connect them to each other until the day they die

“On the count of three?” Peeta leans down and kisses me once, very gently. “The count of three,” he says. - My heart😭

Chapter 26

... while our muscles are immobile, nothing is preventing the blood from draining out of Peeta’s leg. Sure enough, the minute the door closes behind us and the current stops, he slumps to the floor unconscious [...] Through the glass, I see the doctors working feverishly on Peeta, their brows creased in concentration [...] I’m not sure, but I think his heart stops twice. - Peeta was in such a bad shape by the end of the Games; I’m still kinda salty that the movie really glossed over this fact :/

... they’re taking Peeta but leaving me behind the door. I start hurling myself against the glass, shrieking and I think I just catch a glimpse of pink hair - it must be Effie, it has to be Effie coming to my rescue - when the needle jabs me from behind. - Oh geez, in Catching Fire Katniss will also get sedated in a hovercraft because she’s upset about being separated from Peeta 😢 (also, Katniss thinking that Effie is coming to her rescue 😭)

While she [Lavinia, the avox] adjusts my pillows, I risk one question. I say it out loud, as clearly as my rusty voice will allow, so nothing will seem secretive. “Did Peeta make it?” She gives me a nod, and as she slips a spoon into my hand, I feel the pressure of friendship. - Katniss is so considerate of Lavinia’s situation, and Lavinia’s giving her a gesture of comfort and support; they’ve never been able to have a proper conversation (Katniss doesn’t even know Lavinia’s name), but still they managed to build up such a bond - compassion certainly is a strong thing to behold 😭 (and this whole scene is just through and through about compassion, with Katniss asking how Peeta is doing!)

Home! Prim and my mother! Gale! Even the thought of Prim’s scruffy old cat makes me smile. Soon I will be home! - Katniss is so excited to see her home and her loved ones again

I want to get out of this bed. To see Peeta and Cinna - Aww, the two people she grew closest to over the course of the past weeks (Haymitch will be added to that list in just a smidge)

Or do I hear a man’s voice yelling? Not in the Capitol accent, but in the rougher cadences of home. And I can’t help having a vague, comforting feeling that someone is looking out for me. - Thank God for Haymitch!

And behind one of them [doors] must be Peeta. Now that I’m conscious and moving, I’m growing more and more anxious about him [...] “Peeta!” I call out, since there’s no one to ask - Katniss is sick with worry over Peeta; romantic feelings or not, she cares so fricking much for him by now!

I run for them [Effie, Haymitch, and Cinna] and surprise even myself when I launch into Haymitch’s arms first. When he whispers in my ear, “Nice job, sweetheart,” it doesn’t sound sarcastic. - These reunion scenes are so intense and heartwarming! And then Katniss asks about Portia and Peeta because their presence would make this scene complete

when I asks for seconds, I’m refused. “No, no, no. They don’t want it all coming back up on the stage,” says Octavia, but she secretly slips me an extra roll under the table to let me know she’s on my side - It’s moments like these that help humanize Katniss’s prep team - they might be shallow, they might be completely oblivious and ignorant, but they aren’t that bad [of course, the prep team chattering about their mundane lives while talking about the event that ended with the deaths of 22 children shortly after, leaves a bad taste in our mouths]

I immediately notice the padding over my breasts, adding curves that hunger has stolen from my body. My hands go to my chest and I frown. “I know,” says Cinna before I can object. “But the Gamemakers wanted to alter you surgically. Haymitch had a huge fight with them over it. This was the compromise.” - God, the idea that the Gamemakers wanted to give a boob job to an unconscious, malnourished 16-year-old girl makes me sick 🤢 (Also, what’s the flipping deal about boobs?! As a pretty flat-chested gal, I’ve always been annoyed that there are barely any bras my cup size that are not push-up ones; I’m not self-conscious about it, so stop making me pretend that I’m bustier than I actually am!)

“I thought it’d be something more... sophisticated-looking,” I say. “I thought Peeta would like this better,” he [Cinna] answers carefully. Peeta? No, it’s not about Peeta. It’s about the Capitol and the Gamemakers and the audience. Although I do not yet understand Cinna’s design, it’s a reminder the Games are not quite finished. - Ugh, that sinking feeling when Katniss and the reader realize that the Games are still not over... Sidenote: Peeta flirted up a storm with grimy, bloodied Katniss and complimented her when she wore Cinna’s first, absolutely badass costume (”You should wear flames more often”)... Katniss’s girlish outfit has nothing to do with Peeta and she knows it... Cinna could have dressed Katniss up in a trash bag and Peeta would have been smitten - although a trash bag by Cinna would probably still look pretty good ;)

“How about a hug for luck?” Okay, that’s an odd request from Haymitch but, after all we are victors. Maybe a hug for luck is in order. - Aww, Katniss actually wouldn’t have minded giving Haymitch a hug just because - sadly, this is about survival tips instead :/

But what was it Haymitch said when I asked it he had told Peeta the situation? That he had to pretend to be desperately in love? “Don’t have to. He’s already there.” Already thinking ahead of me in the Games again and well aware of the danger we’re in? Or... already desperately in love? I don’t know. I haven’t even begun to separate out my feelings about Peeta. It’s too complicated. - Poor Katniss... she didn’t have the time and peace of mind to sort out her feelings regarding Peeta before they all got tied up and muddled with her need for survival. Now she’ll be having an even harder time trying to untangle that mess :(

Chapter 27

Then there’s Peeta just a few yards away. He looks so clean and healthy and beautiful, I can hardly recognize him. But his smile is the same whether in mud or in the Capitol and when I see it, I take about three steps and fling myself into his arms [...] He rights himself and we just cling to each other while the audience goes insane. He’s kissing me and all the time I’m thinking, Do you know? Do you know how much danger we’re in? After about ten minutes of this, Caesar Flickerman taps on his choulder to continue the show, and Peeta just pushes him aside without even glancing at him. - Man, their reunion here always gets me - it would be so fricking good if Katniss didn’t have to worry about their potential doom 😒😔 - she barely has time to just be happy to see Peeta alive and well before slipping back into survival mode while Peeta is just genuinely thrilled to have her in his arms, completely unaware of the pressure and immediate danger Katniss experiences in this moment... It hurts so bad

I’m with Katniss - How did the previous victors endure rewatching those horrible moments from the Games?! I guess because they had to, but oof... I think I’d just completely shut down, blocking out the footage shown, ugh

But I do notice they omit the part where I covered her [Rue] in flowers. Right. Because even that smacks of rebellion. - In such a callous and cruel place as Panem, any act of compassion can be regarded as rebellion, it’s crazy. In a place filled with apathy, hedonism, greed, and cruelty, the most radical things you can exhibit are love, kindness, and respect!

A wave of gratitude to the filmmakers sweeps over me when they end not with the announcement of our victory, but with me pounding on the glass door of the hovercraft, screaming Peeta’s name as they try to revive him. In terms of survival, it’s my best moment all night. - Again, another instance where Katniss’s genuine feelings/reactions to Peeta are get muddled with her need for survival

The one thing I never do is let go of Peeta’s hand. - irrevocably linked with each other

Despite Haymitch’s running interference, I’m determined to see Peeta privately. - Katniss just wants to have an honest and open talk with Peeta 😢 (I get where Haymitch is coming from, and maybe in this instance it’s the right call, but we’ll see a similar situation in the beginning of CF when Haymitch advises Katniss not to tell Peeta about President Snow’s visit and that time, it doesn’t go so well...)

Then Peeta’s there looking handsome in red and white - for someone who isn’t sure whether she’s into him or not, Katniss sure mentions how good Peeta’s looking a lot 😏

“Well, there’s just this and we go home. Then he can’t watch us all the time,” says Peeta. - 👀👀 Peeta is so thirsty here; reminds me of when he pulled Katniss close to him in the cave before they set out to hunt... He clearly believes she’s also “already there” regarding their relationship; he’s never this “suggestive” (can’t think of a better word right now) with her once she lets him know that she doesn’t really know how she feels about him - I feel a sort of shiver run through me and there’s no time to analyze why - Katniss totally isn’t averse to what Peeta’s suggesting here, either (though there’s probably also a healthy amount of fear mixed in with the thrill of being wanted - letting people in can be terrifying)

I can feel Peeta press his forehead into my temple and he asks, “So now that you’ve got me, what are you going to do with me?” I turn in to him. “Put you somewhere you can’t get hurt.” And when he kisses me, people in the room actually sigh. - It’s me; I’m people 🙋🏼‍♀️ (also, the “turn in to him”?!?!! it just suggests such a closeness, I can’t-)

Katniss burying her face in Peeta’s shirt when she’s afraid she might cry learning that he lost his leg 🥺 (how awful it must be to be constantly on display while you’re dealing with your private feelings, ugh)

“... The moment when you pulled out those berries. What was going on in your mind... hm?” [...] It seems to call for a big, dramatic speech, but all I get out is one almost inaudible sentences. “I don’t know, I just... couldn’t bear the thought of... being without him.” - It might not be a super eloquent way to put what she was supposed to say, but this way, Katniss is being perfectly honest (and frankly, if she’d had the chance to properly process her feelings, she would have been able to voice this sentiment with less hesitation)

I go back to my room to collect a few things and find there’s nothing to take but the mockingjay pin Madge gave me. Someone returned it to my room after the Games. - For one, Katniss didn’t think of that pin (again), but also - was the pin returned to her simply because it’s standard procedure or did someone (like Plutarch, for example) arrange for Katniss to get the pin back, to keep her connection to this symbol going?

I stare in the mirror as I try to remember who I am and who I am not. - Poor Katniss! She’s been through so much, experienced so many traumatic events in short succession recently (aside from the trauma she already had), already had problems defining her identity beyond sheer survival, and now the Capitol also keeps pushing an identity onto her and a romantic relationship, when she hadn’t even had the chance to figure out how she felt about that yet

“... Haymitch has been coaching me through the last few days. So I didn’t make it worse,” I say. “Coaching you? But not me,” says Peeta. “He knew you were smart enough to get it right,” I say. “I didn’t know there was anything to get right,” says Peeta. - Oh boy. It’s always so painful to see Peeta realize that he’s been completely out of the loop; again, we’ll see how Katniss and Haymitch adopt a similar strategy in the beginning of CF: banking on Peeta’s good social skills and eloquence and keeping him in the dark. In a way, it’s a sort of compliment they pay to Peeta for being good with people, but, by not telling him, they are also using him for their purpose (which is motivated by caring for and wanting to protect Peeta, but still). Peeta is right to be upset about it - he has always been very clear about not wanting to be used as a piece in anyone’s games, really. And, as we will see later in CF, they are way more effective as a team when they are open and honest with each other.

“It was all for the Games,” Peeta says. “How you acted.” “Not all of it,” I say, tightly holding on to my flowers. “Then how much? No, forget that. I guess the real question is what’s going to be left when we get home?” he says. “I don’t know. The closer we get to District Twelve, the more confused I get,” I say. He waits, for further explanation, but none’s forthcoming. “Well, let me know when you work it out,” he says, and the pain in his voice is palpable. - It’s just so goddamn painful😢 They’ve both been done so dirty by that forced star-crossed lovers of Distrct 12 routine. (Sidenote: I appreciate that Peeta actually gives Katniss the chance to explain herself here - still, it’s too much to deal with on the spot so I can understand why Katniss ended up dropping the ball, even though it’s frustrating to read.)

That it’s not good loving me because I’m never going to get married anyway and he’d just end up hating me later instead of sooner. That if I do have feelings for him, it doesn’t matter because I’ll never be able to afford the kind of love that leads to a family, to children. And how can he? How can he after what we’ve just been through? - Oh Katniss, you certainly are skipping a couple of steps here; I’m pretty sure there are some options in between dating and being married with kids you could look into. Also, she’s just assuming that this is what Peeta wants, but she doesn’t know that at all - As someone who also has this stupid habit of imagining how whole conversations could possibly transpire and then resigning myself to the hypothetical outcome of said imagined conversation instead of actually having them: Don’t do that. ‘Never assume - it makes an ASS out of U and ME.’

I see Peeta extend his hand. I look at him, unsure. “One more time? For the audience?” he says. His voice isn’ t angry. It’s hollow, which is worse. Already the boy with the bread is slipping away from me. I take his hand, holding it tightly, preparing for the cameras, and dreading the moment when I will finally have to let go. - Ma babies! They are both so hurt and both just want to be with each other 😭 But they’ll need some time apart, to figure things out before they can do that.

#thgagain #thg #hunger games #everlark #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #my sketches and drawings #thg meta

64 notes · View notes

shorkbrian · 3 years

Text

Problem

Prelude - Don’t come @ me pls I tried to be pOeTiC and artsy okay lol

Pairing - Keigo Takami X Reader

Warnings - no NSFW, religion, blood mention, nonconsensual touching.

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/4SQ0ytpTP8v1Rx8FWR22cv?si=d_i0QJowT9yF-b6rZMOKvw

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

People often don’t notice the little, gradual problems.

Cluttered desks, dishes in the sink.

The thing that stands in the corner at night.

You only noticed it after it started to move, creeping closer, sitting in your chair, bright golden eyes piercing through the dark.

His name is Keigo, he tells you, and there’s no reason to be afraid.

Of course, that doesn’t stop fear from icing over your veins, stomach twisting, hands clutching at your blankets as if they were a shield to protect you from the strange entity that had haunted your bedroom for so long. You had done so well, pretending that the shadow was nothing but a trick of the light, that there was nothing there except a chair filled with dirty clothes.

He doesn’t come any closer, crosses his legs in the chair he occupies, tilting his head as the two of you stare at each other.

His name is Keigo, and he’s an angel.

-----

The angel has been with you all your life.

He is able to recount the days you’d spent in your room, crying and begging God for something different, to take your pain away. The moments you thought you had been alone, forgotten.

The troubles you’d overcome, the faint flashes of happiness that filled your life and made you feel light and warm. Keigo even remembered the color of your bedroom walls in your childhood home, the small scribbles you’d made in the corners, near the baseboards. How you’d get in trouble for leaving your mark on your world, be punished for taking up space.

You were too young to remember that.

But Keigo remembers.

He was there for all of it.

When you confide in him your fears, small whispered thoughts, Keigo listens.

“I feel so lonely all the time.”

“You may feel lonely, but you’re never alone. The plants in your window love you, for you give them life. Your bed welcomes you with the arms of a lover after a long day, loves to hold you in it’s embrace. The ground welcomes the steps of your feet, how you shape it’s very existence just by being present. You’re an entire ecosystem, your flesh sculpted from the earth. Your blood is brewed from rainwater, thousands of creatures live inside of you and on your skin. And of course, you have me. I am never far from you, you’re never truly alone.”

Life doesn’t seem as bad.

-----

The angel usually only appears at night, when you’re tucked in bed, fresh from a shower. You’ve come to like his visits, no longer feel trepidation when he shows up in the corner, materializing out of thin air.

He doesn’t look like what you think he should. There are no heavy wings, no countless eyes, no sharp halo adorning his head. No white robes or silken clothes, just tattered jeans and a hoodie.

But he doesn’t look exactly human either, with his golden skin and molten eyes. His fingers are long and slender, made for music and praise. The curve of his soft lips makes it easier for him to worship, to condemn or guide his charge. Hair that looks too soft, like liquid gold that flows from his scalp. You want to touch, but you’re afraid to ask.

You notice that the plants in your house flourish at night, when Keigo is around. The tender stalks seem to reach for his presence, follow his form greedily, as if he has a gift that he’s withholding from them. Flowers bloom and vie for his attention, and Keigo laughs, touches the petals gently and watches the blossoms burst with color and growth.

His existence as an angel is unquestioned, not when he proves to you that he knows you to a degree that you don’t even know yourself. The freckles decorating your skin, those are all from him. It’s true that they’re angel kisses, given to the people they favor, that they watch grow.

They’d dusted across your nose as a child, light and varied. Darkened as you’d gotten older, appearing on your hands and peppered over your face in no particular pattern.

It makes you blush, and at first you don’t believe him, thinking he’s playing with you. But Keigo moves to the edge of your bed, gently takes one of your hands in his own, and lifts it to his lips.

A freckle appears when they press to your skin, a dark mark pushing to the surface.

You spend the next day looking at each of your freckles in the mirror, studying the marks that mar your skin. They’re sprinkled across your shoulders, you’re collarbone, your ankles. It’s strange to think that each mark is evidence of a kiss. Why would the angel kiss you?

When you ask him the next night he visits, Keigo pauses.

“Sometimes… there’s a hole in your soul, and that’s just the way things are. And you try to fill it with various things; songs that make your heart waltz, views that make your eyes long for more, raindrops against your skin. I’ve found the most effective way to fill it is with being with the person who makes the world seem less bad.”

How can an angel feel incomplete? “Are you not God’s perfect creation?” You ask.

Keigo sighs, and says no more.

-----

“Why is that book your favorite?” Keigo has read it before, scouring the pages to try and find pieces of you in it. He’s read all of your books, picked up every single thing you’ve ever touched, ever looked at, jealous of the way it had caught your attention.

You don’t know.

You don’t know why you love the book clutched in your hands. You just do. Keigo thinks he understands.

He’s been visiting earlier and earlier, while the sun still rests above the horizon. The angel never asks about your day, he’s there for every moment, just never visible to you.

He’s the warmth that soothes your skin when it’s cold out, when you’re afraid that your jacket won’t be enough to stave off the chill. Keigo whispers reminders into your ear, a little tickle that helps you remember to turn in sale reports on time, or what time you’re supposed to meet with a new client. He never gets the credit for all that he does, but that’s okay.

Your thoughts turn to him constantly, mind churning with questions. Why show himself now? Is that allowed? What is heaven like? Is God kind?

Keigo brushes these questions off, frowns when you ask them. He won’t talk about his holy father, nor his own role as a guardian angel. You learn to hold your tongue.

The angel prefers to talk with you, or sit in silence as you tend to your evening tasks. You think he might be lonely.

——-

You wake up sometimes with warmth still on your skin, more freckles dotting along your body. But there’s already so many, the new ones go unnoticed.

Keigo is never around those days.

“Why do you not visit?” You ask him, saddened by his absence. Was it something you did wrong? Were you no longer worthy of his presence?

“I met someone that reminds me of warm toned skies. I’m afraid of what I might do to them.”

You don’t know what that means. Asking the angel to clarify results in a long silence, and you look out the window of your house to take in the stars, the clouds that try and hide them from view. You wonder if Keigo knows their names.

“I saw you in my dreams” Finally, the angel answers, golden eyes fixed on his hands folded in prayer in his lap.

“You dreamed of me?” You didn’t know angels could dream.

“At first…. Now I think of you. I..... I love you on purpose, I love you intentionally.” The confession is weighty, said slowly and quietly. Golden eyes find your own and search for acceptance.

What do you do when an angel confesses their love?

When you stay silent, Keigo disappears.

Sleep does not come easy that night.

——-

“Nothing you humans do ever matters. All that really matters is what you do.”

He’d appeared after a time, a few weeks where you stared at the chair in the corner and saw nothing. You weren’t sure if you were glad that he was back.

Keigo was critical of your actions, hovering behind you while you tended to the plants in your home, lounging on the counter while you cooked meals, sitting near you while you read and making you nervous at his unwavering company.

“So the meaning of life is to give life meaning?” You had answered his subtle jab, and Keigo had shown you his teeth in a smile. It looked much less like a smile, more like a gesture of a puppet, a mockery of a human with too many teeth. He didn’t say whether you were right or wrong.

Safety was no longer the prevalent feeling when Keigo was around.

The angel does not have the same restraint he used to exhibit. He touches you now, unashamed of his needy nature, how he craves your humanity, fascinated by the intricacies of your life, the thoughts that run through your head.

It makes you uneasy, his hands cold as ice when they find your own. But who are you to tell an angel they are wrong?

He never misses a night spent in your presence, even when you think he does. The angel waits till you’re asleep, creeps past your defenses and indulges in human comforts.

You always murmur in your sleep when he slips into your bed, when his cold, cold vessel presses against your warm body. Keigo wonders if he could steal some of your warmth, carry it with him.

“You look perfect even when you’re half asleep and not speaking proper English. I am so in love with you, it feels like I’m floating all the time” You don’t hear his words, but he says them anyways.

-----

His residence is overbearing.

You find yourself spending more and more time away from your home, spent at work, where he doesn’t appear. Nights are spent with friends, drinking in their homes, sharing stories about romantic endeavors.

A small part of you knows that Keigo must be nearby, being your guardian angel. But he never materializes around other people.

The angel grows desperate for your company, invades any spare moment you have, while you’re using the bathroom, showering, when you’re early for a meeting and alone in the conference room.

His demeanor is casual, relaxed, but you begin to see the outline of his wings, blood red plumage displayed across his back.

Strong emotions bring out their wings, you had learned. A dropped glass had wings flashing behind Keigo as the angel was caught off guard, and you’d begged for him to show you them.

He couldn’t make them visible at will, he had explained. They only showed if an angel was experiencing strong emotions, strong feelings.

Their appearance now made you afraid.

You tried to talk to Keigo one rare night you spent at home, work out your differences and soothe his feelings towards you, the jealousy and the anger that sank deep into his being.

“I don’t know how to make this better. I don’t have feelings for you the same way you feel for me” You had confessed.

Keigo’s eyes had blazed, yellow fire flickering in the iris.

“My body forgot what it felt like to be warmth. You’re the sun that I step into, the rays that fall upon my back and warm my wings, the heat that fills my heart and spills from my lips.”

He was passionate, gripping your arms with too-hot skin, and it burned.

“Before you go to sleep at night, you water your flowers, your plants. In the light of your window I can see your body wrapped in your nightgown, and you’re indistinguishable from the blossoms.”

The pain seared deep into your bones, and you felt anger, true anger at the celestial body in front of you. Never had you asked for his affection, for his protection.

“I have thought about my love for you, and the ways I could describe it are innumerable. You’re so human and it makes me want, and I don’t know what to do with the fire burning within me. I love you-“

You’re screaming at him then, and the sky turns dark the same moment you thrash out of his burning grip. Harsh words are said, things you should’ve expressed months ago, when the angel broke your boundaries into pieces and did what he pleased.

But the courage was here now, the bravery to defy an angel, to say that it was wrong, that you didn’t want them around anymore.

The sky crackled with lightening, and Keigo’s wings filled out, full of sharp, dangerous feathers. You had wondered about the color, why they were red instead of white, but as it began to rain, the red sloughed off, dripping to the ground in thick rivulets.

His blood-red wings were colored with the spatter of the sins he’d committed. But Keigo never talked about his sins, never about heaven.

Now he did, shouting at you with his thunderous voice, telling you of the lengths he had gone to in ensuring his existence in your life. How he’d begged at the feet of God to be allowed to show himself to you, to express the desire growing inside of his traitorousus body.

How he’d been shamed, shunned.

He’d shown himself to you anyway, took each reprimand in stride. When another angel had been assigned to you after the golden one’s confession, Keigo had broken, fought with teeth and claws.

The blood of his brothers tainted his wings.

So much had been sacrificed to stand by your side.

There had been no grand plan, Keigo had seen you and knew he wasn’t like the other angels. He was different, able to feel and touch and learn.

The two of you scream at each other, you spitting hateful things, how you wish he would leave you alone.

Keigo doesn’t care, you’ve made him feel and he’s not letting that go.

Lightening strikes a tree and it erupts into flames, and the tears running down your face are hidden by the pelting rain.

You hate him, he scares you.

It’s said out loud, and the angel stops in his tracks, looking at you with emotions you can’t begin to understand.

He leaves in a rush, his wings still stained red despite the cleansing water streaming along them.

——-

Keigo leaves you alone.

Your flowers start blooming again, even without the addictive presence of a holy angel.

The freckles dotting your skin fade, and you don’t mind, you don’t miss the marks that litter your thighs, your chest, the marks you’d never allowed to be made.

Life is okay again. You can breathe.

“It’s cold again and I miss you” His voice makes you drop the glass in your hands, and it shatters against the floor.

His wings materialize for a second, red as blood, dripping.

But then the angel is waving his hand, and the shards of glass on the ground are gone, the puddle of water, his wet wings.

Keigo has something to say to you, and he wants you to listen.

“I’ve got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you. But I didn’t. And, in truth, it was maybe better that I didn’t - I say that now, though it was something I regretted bitterly for a while.” He keeps stepping closer to you, until he’s in your space, heavenly body inches from your own. He feels like marble, a chill emanating from his golden skin.

“More than anything I was relieved that in my unfamiliar wanting-to-talk state I’d stopped myself from blurting out the things on the edge of my tongue, the things I’d never said, even though it was something I knew well enough without me saying it out loud to you like this….. which is, of course, I love you”

“This won’t work, Keigo.” You explain, voice small. “We aren’t the same. I have someone out there meant for me, and it isn’t you.”

He frowns, takes your hand in his, interlaces your fingers. The angel presses a kiss to your knuckles, the same as he did the first time you met him.

“If soulmates do exist, they’re made, not found. You build a relationship with the person that makes your heart happy. I demand the labor of love so that I may make it. Craft so that I may make it art. So that I may make it mine.“

You don’t get any more say in the matter.

-----

His love is all consuming.

It grows and burns with each moment he spends with you, leeching off of your warmth.

People often don’t notice the little, gradual problems.

They don’t notice until the problem becomes unfixable.

#keigo #keigo x reader #takami keigo #keigo imagine #keigo x y/n #bnha keigo #keigo takami #keigo headcanons #angel #angel keigo #yandere #almost

225 notes · View notes

cassava-49 · 4 years

Text

I Won't Say I'm In Love

Felix had always walled himself up to not love again and be fooled by it again. Not again, never again, but why? After building up this façade, why is it crumbling to his feet? Right, it's because of her.

A beacon of light and love. Her dark blue hair is as deep as the color of the depths of the ocean where one can swim too deep and drown by its beauty. Her bluebell eyes that are as light as the sky that can make anyone think that they were falling down from heaven as you stare deep into them. Her warm bubbly feeling that can make anyone cozy up with her and let their guard down without their knowledge.

Ever since she transferred here and joined his circle of friends he can't help but feel drawn to the warm sweet atmosphere. He can't have it again. He doesn't want to put his heart on the line again only to be broken into millions of tiny pieces like how she had. He doesn't want to hurt again with that knowledge of not getting his chances since she is already desperately in love with his dim witted cousin.

He then turned his attention to his friends who were chatting happily over lunch. Talking about some silly antics that had happened during class. But he couldn't help but watch her close her eyes as she laughed and cover her mouth. The sound of her sweet laughter was, how would the books describe it, music to his ears, tiny sweet bells that sounded at an hour of beauty. He watched as his friend Claude balanced an orange on the tip of his nose, as Allan subtly made it fall by accidentally jabbing his side.

He continued to watch the bluenette smile and laugh, not noticing the subtle glances Allegra was giving him. The bell rung, signalling the students that they had 30 minutes before classes began again. This made his friends get up and take their trays and brought it to the counter.

"Well, see you guys later," Marinette said to her friends as she headed to the art department wing for her lesson. As she left, she didn't notice the penetrating stare the blond had fixated on her back. But the blond didn't notice the looks his three friends were sharing as a grin crossed each of their faces. Felix turned around to be greeted by these suspicious grins as he let a scowl cross his face, knowing what the three would say.

"No," was all he said to the three as he stalked away. "Come on Fe. We know that you know that you like her," Allegra told him as she walked with him. "Allegra, stop it. You know that I will not love again nor put myself to it after how the past had ended," he said his petty reason. "This is not like you dude. The Felix I know would not let the past be the reason for fear and ignorance," Allan backed. "No one will ever be worth my time in that aspect. And it doesn't help that she looks like her," Felix replied in distaste of his words.

"You know that she's the earth and heaven to you. You can't just run away from your feelings cause your bad at hiding these kinds of feelings," Claude spoke. The four continued walking until they were outside the building for their food and lockers. "I have learned my lesson in loving Claude. I will not throw myself back into this cliche and have what is left in my heart torn into pieces," Felix replied as he tried to keep his face in pure frustration and his thoughts in denial. However, it wasn't entirely working mostly because of this conversation.

"You can't deny it bro, we can read you better than others and all that we can see is a lovesick puppy thinking that it was just the meat," Allan said as Allegra kept on rolling her eyes at Felix's answers. "Hon, we're not buying your bs right now. We all saw how you change around her. You definitely care for her and ever since she cracked you, you began to grow it," Allegra added. "Grow what?" Felix asked getting irritated at his friends persistent jabbings. "A love sickness that you obviously have bad," she continued with her banter.

"That is highly impossible. I am not interested in Marinette in a romantic way," Felix said trying to wrap his words in ice. "Oh, hi Netta, didn't see you there," Claude said which caused Felix to turn his attention to where the boy was, only to find their school mate Antoinette pass by. But Felix couldn't help but let a sigh of relief and disappointment cross his face. But when he turned he was faced with a poster of Marinette and her club's saying that they would be exhibiting their art and a small pageant for the young designers that will be held tomorrow, February 14. He couldn't help but stare at the bright eyed designer in her cute sailor outfit. He couldn't help but let his fantasies run wild until someone broke him out of it. "If you ask someone right now, they would definitely say that you have it bad," Allan commented as Felix scoffed. As he tried to deny and tell his treacherous heart to shut up and let his head think.

He then faced his friends with a glare and said, "Claude your department's that way." Claude then let out a huff and rolled his eyes at the blond and went to the direction Felix had been pointing. "But just face it and say that you're in love," he said as he continued walking. This made him roll his eyes at his friend and caught the scoffs of the other two. "You two just go before me. I need the bathroom," he stated as he made his way to the closest restroom. Once inside, he went into a cubicle, locking it and resting his back at the door as his stared at the ceiling. He sighed and dropped his head letting his thoughts run back to the past.

...

"Hey Felix~~," a bubbly voice called from behind. Irritation crossed his mind as he recognized that voice. The said owner of the voice took a seat next to him as he quietly made his research in the library. "What are researching on?" the bluenette asked as she looked over his notes. Annoyed by her antics, he closed his notebook and the other books as he began packing to leave the insistent girl.

But this did not stop her as she stood up from her seat and went in front of him and waved two tickets directly at his eyes. "I was wondering if you don't have anything to do later, we can go to the theatres and watch this new movie, you know the one about 'The Little Prince' I saw you reading the book and I wondered if you would like to watch it. I'd even allow you to rant about it," she said in a hopeful tone. He then saw his friend at the back giving out yes signals. He let out a sigh and said, "Fine I'll go." This made the girl smile and jumped for joy as she gave him the details.

This was the start of the simple dates and happy experiences and, to his astonishment, love. Yes, after getting to know the bubbly happy girl he started developing feelings for the young girl. After about 10 dates he finally asked her to be his girlfriend. This made the girl tear up and engulf him in a tight hug after giving him a loving kiss on the cheek.

They had such a good relationship, it even got him out of his shell, slightly. He would be caught flirting in public and show a bit of PDA. He couldn't help it, he loved her deeply and wished that their relationship would last. He loved everything about her; her personality, her blue eyes, her long dark blue hair that were tied in twin tails.

Today was their second year anniversary, they were at the Ponte des Arts, just enjoying their time as they ate ice cream. He looked at the girl at his arm and smiled as he softly spoke, "Bridgette." She then gave a hum of response and looked up at him with a half smile. This made his heart drop as he realized that there was something troubling him. "Is there something bothering you?" he asked, scared of her answer. This made the girl sigh and let go off his arm as she took his hand and looked directly into his eyes. "Do you love me, Felix?" she asked, tad uncertain. This made his eyes widen and took both of her hands and kissed her knuckles and replied, "Truly, deeply, ardently and all the words that can increase the meaning of my love for you."

As he said that he notice a hint of heartbreak pass in her eyes. Just as he feared she lowered her gaze and removed her hands from his, as she stared at the ground. He then watched her eyes well up with tears as she brought her hands to her face to cry in. This caught him off guard as he put his hands on her arms wanting to hug her. But she pushed him away, this broke his heart as he watched his girlfriend cry in front of him and not wanting to be comforted by him.

After a few more sniffles she looked him in the eyes and said in between sobs. "I-I-I'm p-pre-pregnant," she said as he felt his world shatter. But slowly rebuild and a smile appeared on his face as he said, "It's alright, I know 16 isn't the ideal age to be parents, but I'd be glad to have a family with you." He then slowly placed his hands on her shoulders as he rubbed his hands up and down her arms in a comforting manner. (Side note: the age of consent in France is 15)

This didn't comfort the girl at all as she cried more. She then looked him with sad eyes and spoke, "T-t-th-that's the th-thing. T-the b-baby i-i ---." But she wasn't able to finish when someone pulled her away from him and glared at him. "What she meant to say is, the baby's not yours," he said with a smirk. This made him give a look of confusion and then realization came dropping on him. He then remembered that they had only done it twice and he was very careful, he had a condom on and made sure that it was of good quality.

He then looked at the two in front of him and asked, "I-is it true?" This made Bridgette freeze as she recalled this tone as his frightening tone from before they had been dating. She slowly nodded, afraid of meeting his gaze. "How long has this been going on?" he asked in his icy cold voice that set fear into anyone's hearts. Unable to answer the boy next to her answered for her, "Actually we had been getting it on since last Christmas and I claimed her long before you did," the Asian man said to him. He then turned his attention back to his "girlfriend" realizing that last Christmas she went back to Seoul(Let's just say that she's Korean since MLB was first released there. Another side note: Age of consent in South Korea is 16).

"Why?" he asked. However, she wasn't able to answer as she tried to hide in the arms of the other man. This made the shards of his earlier shattered world to break more at this action. Trying to keep his cool he then said, "Congratulations. I will back down for the both of you. I wish that you find happiness with him." With that he gave the man a killer punch and walked away, not wanting to notice the look the crowd was giving him.

...

He sighed at the awful memory not wanting it to happen again. He gave her his world, his dreams and his whole being. Thinking that she would do the same, but in the end she broke him, in the last way he thought she would. As he continued to think about it he felt tears prick his eyes, to which he immediately removed. His thoughts came rushing back to Marinette's sweet smile, comforting presence and lovable companionship. This got him sighing as he whispered to himself, "I've got it bad."

The day ended and the gang regrouped as they went straight to the bakery for final fittings. Felix walked quietly by Marinette's side as she began discussing about the adjustments she'd had to make with their clothes. Allegra began gushing about how amazing her designs are even without adjustments. Allan just told her not to worry and be confident in her talent, while Claude was just asking what treats her parents were handing out. Felix on the other hand had just been admiring her talk.

"Hey Felix, you seem out today. Are you OK?" Marinette asked him as she turned her attention to him. This caught him off guard when she turned her attention to him. He only gave her a curt nod as a light blush dusted his cheeks. They then arrived at her home and were all showered with affection by her ever doting parents who insisted that they all stayed for dinner.

The group was in her room as she made a few adjustments to the clothes she's supposed to present the next day. "Maddie this is amazing. I love it," Allegra cooed as she spun around in her white dress, which had three horizontal lines at the collar of the dress and the lower part of the skirt, close to the hem. While a navy blue jacket, sailor inspired, was matched with it, and to top it off, she wore a white sailors hat with her hair curled at the bottom part. "I'm glad you love it Allegra," Marinette replied as she beamed with pride. She then turned to the boys to find them standing with each other in a pose that they probably didn't notice.

Claude wore a fit round neck white shirt with black horizontal stripes with white ankle length pants, and a black sheer scarf was placed around his neck, while a white hat with black lining topped off the look. "Do I look fat in this shirt? I feel that I look fat," he commented as he stared at the pattern, earning a laugh from the girls. "No, it doesn't. I mean you wear vertical stripes all the time," Mari commented. "You look fat all the time," Allegra added as the group laughed again.

Turning her attention to Allan, she could see that the denim fabric fitted him perfectly. The denim polo shirt with rolled up sleeves and tucked in his denim shorts, that was held by a brown leather belt made him look simple yet stylish, and just like the others he wore a captain's hat. "Well, if you feel fat, I feel like something's missing," Allan critiqued. This made Mari give a designer's look at it as she placed a finger under her chin and tilted her head to the left. "You're right, but what can make it look more complete?" she pondered as she eyed the clothing. After a second, she snapped her fingers and made her way to the other scarps of clothing she had sewn. "No, no, not that one. Nope. Ah! There you are," she stated as she made her way to her model and tied a handkerchief around his neck and tucked it under the collar. "Better," she stated as she looked at the finished product.

She then looked at her last piece, which was being modeled by Felix. She blushed at the sight of him in a form fitting white blazer that was open to reveal a dark navy blue color that had white horizontal stripes covering the bottom half of the shirt. His legs seemed to look more fit at the sight of the royal blue pants seemed to be showing the wonderful shape, since it was slightly fit. Although he looked a bit confused at the clothing as if uncomfortable. This caused her to be concerned at the possible mistake. "Is the fit alright?" she asked hesitantly. "The designs are fine, but like you said, it's the fit. But it's just the blazer, it's a bit tight on my shoulders," he commented as he pointed at the points to be fixed.

"Alright, I'll get it done, but I'm going to take your measurements again just to make sure," she stated as she went over to her desk to take her measuring tape. "Maddie, you wouldn't mind if we change out of this?" Allegra asked. "Sure go ahead and feel free to—," she began but was unable to finish when she saw the three race out of the room. Realizing what they had done she felt her face heat up a little bit as she faced the blond who was taking off the white blazer and folded it nicely and placed it on the chaise.

He looked up to find that they were the only people in her bedroom. He cursed his friends quietly at the betrayal as he watched her make her way to him. She began taking his measurements but found it difficult with his height. This made him chuckle slightly, surprising the young designer at the reaction. "You know you could stand on a stool considering your short stature," he said. "It doesn't mean that you're taller than me by 6 inches I'm already short," she replied with a huff. He then bent down to her level saying, "Everyone who is shorter than me, I consider short and small."

This got him with a notebook slammed at his face as he saw an irritated Marinette. He then smirked and continued, "Considering that you are '6 inches' smaller than me, makes you seem like a cute munchkin that I can put in my pocket." He watched as she got more irritated at him as he insulted her height. He continued on bantering about her being shorter than him that he did not expect her to finally jump on him and say, "You know that fact that we only have a 6 inch gap makes it easier for me to jump on your back." The two continued roughhousing, forgetting about what they were supposed to do.

After a few more minutes of fighting, Felix got the upper hand and threw her up on her bed as he joined her and began attacking her with tickles. She began to laugh uncontrollably that she was having a difficulty to breath until she finally tapped out, which made him stop his attacks. He then got off her and laid down next to her as they began to calm down.

"Don't insult me with my height again," was all she could say before they got back to what they were supposed to be doing. "You're right, cause size doesn't matter," he jokingly replied as he turned to face her with his head propped up with his arm. This got her to roll her eyes at the blond as she also turned to face him. This was when they both became self conscious about their positions causing the two parties to blush uncontrollably.

Mari then let out a cough and said, "You should, um, y-you know, change." With that she got of the bed and began fixing the things that were out of place after their game.

...

It was the day for their clubs fashion show, and a lot of famous figures were there to watch. Well, that was to be expected from a prestigious school where most of the students were children from well off families. There they could see their parents along with their friends. But looking at the more out shining personalities in the crowd was also where they could find the Agrestes and their secretary, the Bourgeois family, Clara Nightingale, Jagged Stone and others.

Marinette can feel the excitement and the anxiety, and she can see that the rest of the club was also having the same panic. Their theme was "Summer and Beaches," with different sub themes from the designers. One designer had swimsuits, another had Hawaiin style, there was one that had a Tex-Mex theme, one was carnival themed, there was a bohemian theme, tropical, floral, animal and there was Mari's sailor theme.

She can see all of them were too anxious that they were able to dress their models to the T. There was also one of them that threw up because of the pressure. They then watched as one theme after another was called. When it came to her designs she saw the impressed looks of the audience, even from Chloe, although she probably doesn't know that it was her design. She even saw her former classmates looking at the designs as if for the first time. This pained her a bit since she made sure to incorporate her designer tag there but it doesn't seem like they noticed.

Once the show ended, the designers were called up front for their recognition. They were all trembling, nonetheless, were able to make it up front as they were applauded by their success. She could hear the excited cheers of her family and classmates and from a few personalities who seemed to be waiting for her appearance. She watched her former classmates' jaws dropped as they felt stupid not realizing that those were her designs.

After the whole exhausting show they were all dismissed as the group hugged and shook hands in congratulations. Mari was engulfed by her friends and were overly happy at her success. She hugged them backed and thanked them. They then went to their favorite cafe and celebrated. But one by one they left, leaving Marinette and Felix alone, again.

"Outstanding performance as all ways," he commented still trying to deny the rapid beating of his heart towards this girl. "Thanks, but I'd say the same for you guys, after all you guys modeled for me," she replied. This got their conversation moving and they were deeply enjoying each others company when unexpected guests came.

When they heard the door chime they didn't really mind until those people went directly to their table. Marinette froze at the sight of her former friends and classmates. She could feel Alya's glare as she stared blankly at her drink.

"Seriously Marinette, no note, no message. You just disappeared into thin air in the second semester not even telling me!" Alya exclaimed. Felix glared at the girl as he took Marinette's shaking hands into his and gave it a tight affectionate squeeze that gave her strength. Channeling her inner snarky self, she took a sip of the drink and said, "I saw no reason to tell you about it. It wasn't like I heard you all wish that I should just leave Lila for good, like transfer."

This made the rest of the class flush in guilt, except for Alya. "Really Marinette, are you going to turn yourself into the victim again. Can you stop saying that? We know that YOU wanted Lila out of school for good!" she accused. This just made Marinette look at her drink and begin tilting her cup in different directions as she answered, "Wow, you make it sound like I got Lila 'almost' expelled. It's not like I 'almost' got expelled for stealing her heirloom and taking the key to correction of our exam. Or I was the one who have that 'disease' that makes me spout out nonsense." At the end she moved her pupils to look at them to find them processing what she said.

"If that's all I think that we should go," Marinette stated as she set her finished drink down and took Felix's hand and began to leave. "Not so fast, Marinette. You are not leaving until Lila comes here and you apologize to her," Alya said as she grabbed her roughly by the arm. This infuriated Felix so he stepped in to intervene.

"Unhand her, now," he said as he glared at Alya. She in turn glared back at him and said, "Get your nose out of this." He then went fully in front of her, using his height as an advantage to intimidate her. He saw her slightly flinch but still did not comply. After showing no signs of letting go, he forcefully grabbed her wrist and tightened his grip making her let Marinette go because of the sudden pain on her wrist.

"Alya I'm here," they heard someone call. "Lila, great timing," Alya replied as she smiled and winced at the girl. She then turned back to the two and said, "Now, apologize." Marinette then asked, "For what?" This made the blogger more infuriated as she began recounting the times she had injured her, bullied her, humiliated her, insulted her, accused her and other forms of abuse. "Are you done?" she asked after she had recounted all of the 'times' she had attacked the Italian.

Before Alya could say anything, Felix cut in, "Now if you please, I would like to take my girlfriend out now. You lot have already wasted our time and disrupted our date." "I don't give a damn about your fucking date," Alya seethed as she got more frustrated by the pair. "I know, but I'm sure you are interested in keeping your reputation," he said as he pointed at the customers who were filming and whispering about them. Nino then approached his girlfriend and tried to calm her down but it didn't help, it only made her more aggressive. Blind with rage, she threw a strong punch at Marinette making her nose bleed.

Felix then clapped his hands in sarcasm, which brought the lady blogger back to her senses. "Ma-mari, I didn't, I'm sorry," she fumbled. "Ladies and gentlemen, the blogger of the Ladyblog," was all Felix can say before wrapping and arm around Mari and helping her with her nosebleed as he took her out of the building.

...

Now, the pair was seated in her room, her on the chaise and Felix on the floor as he began tending to her. Once he patched her up neatly they settled down. Marinette shift uncomfortably in her seat as she had been replaying the scene in her head. But what she couldn't get rid of was how protective Felix was when he claimed to be her boyfriend. She blushed again at the thought.

"Are you alright?" Felix asked in concern when he saw her heat up. "Y-yep, OK me, no. Me OK. Wait, I mean, I'm OK," she stammered. Felix smiled at her as he shifted uncomfortably as well trying to forget what he said in the heat of the moment.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Mari spoke up, "So earlier at the cafe, things got out of hand didn't they." Felix only nodded not wanting this to go to that direction. Feeling his discomfort, Mari just got straight to the point. "W-when you said that I was your g-girlfriend, did you say it out of–," but before she could continue, Felix stopped her by saying, "I want you to be." This made them pause and look at each other in surprise.

This sudden realization and confession was not what Felix had in mind. So he turned his head to the other direction so to not see her face of discomfort. To his surprise, instead of rejection, he felt two arms hug his torso and a small body pressed against his side. He turned to find if it was what he think it was, Marinette hugging him tightly and resting her head on his shoulder.

"I-I'd like that," was all she could say that changed his world. Here he could see a woman who would not cheat on him for she hated liars and lying. Someone he could trust not to break his heart in the worst possible way ever. He did not see her in Marinette anymore. Now he saw the person Marinette is, a loyal friend and companion, an honest and trust worthy person who would not string him around because of guilt and displeasure.

This was all that he needed before he took her and kissed her sweetly not finding any resistance in her at all. That was all the confirmation they both needed until they found themselves sleeping next to each other, arms protectively around them and the lack of clothing was all they could think of as they relished in each other for they wanted the other more than they had wanted their pasts.

#miraculous ladybug and chat noir #felix culpa #felix pv #felinette #marinette dupain cheng #marinette x felix #quantic kids #alya salt #lila salt #class salt #allegra #allan #claude #Hercules #a bit of angst #kinda fast paced #consenting individuals

312 notes · View notes

genesisrose74 · 3 years

Text

HEY BAE OK CAN I GET AN AESTHETIC MATCHUP??? FOR MHA??? IDK HOW TO DESCRIBE MY VIBES BUT IDK I THINK YOU KNOW ME P WELL AND YOU’VE SEEN ME BUT I’LL TELL YOU SOME STUFF: love love love piercings and tattoos! My closet (aside from work clothes) consists of mostly black, brown, gray, white, orange, and red and i like being scary goth sexy awooga😏😏 for music I LOVEEE midwest emo and pop punk but i’m also a total sucker for like indie folk and just vibey flowey music? idk how to describe it but it’s! so! good! my favorite animals are cows and i’m suPer into windmills. i think peak relationship/friendship is bullying the fuck out of each other like straight up cruelty but loving the absolute shit out of each other <3 i like to tease my friends and in person i’m pretty quiet and sarcastic (i’ve heard i’m rude and intimidating if u don’t know me :|) but i am also sweet asf. ok i know this isn’t a vibe matchup but i feel the need to clarify i can be super loud and energetic w my friends but i’m a big mf introvert and people always tell me i have a scowl on my face😐😐 i get asked what’s wrong so often for no reason pls i’m just trying to exist — i’m trying to think of more aesthetics uhhh. i’ll just list specific niche things.“under eye bags and dark circles, calling someone a dumbass with adoration, cigarettes in the dark, cold pavement on your feet early morning, walking in a forest at night, dim lighting and smoky rooms, a laugh filled kiss in secret, music playing in headphones way too loud, impulsive piercings, pushing your s/o around in a shopping cart, laughing too loud, playing with lighters, hair in bubble pigtails or double braids, hiding from the cops” ‼️‼️‼️

RAMSEY MY BELOVED!! When I tell you I was so incredibly excited to write your matchup I hope you take that at its full value because oh my gosh my brain exploded with all the possibilities here. There’s a couple options I think that could have suited you (because your vibe is incredibly chill and fun so it meshes well with a lot of characters), but in the end I without a doubt had to match you up with...

I swear that this shit is not even pandering because I know you’ve got a soft spot for this man — he is the ideal person for you. And in the slim,, almost nonexistent chance that you don’t want this reliable, lovable, dorky dumbass by your side, I will personally step in to take your place because good heavens is he just incredible.

Denki is loud and energetic most of the time, although he does have his share of mellow and sometimes more serious moments. He absolutely adores being around other people, and that sociable attitude is only emphasized when he’s around his closest friends. If you have a bit of trouble meshing with a group or a specific conversation, Denki will notice pretty damn quick and do whatever he can to make you feel comfortable and/or involved.

And if it’s lovable insults you want, he can and will provide. My man is friends with Bakugo Katsuki and the iconic Kyouka Jiro, so he knows how to take a roast and then jab right back if he so pleases. He’ll call you a dumbass in so many subtle ways that it would almost be hurtful if you both didn’t love each other to pieces (which you do), and the fact that you retort with an even sharper tongue makes him incredibly happy. Oh, and if he ever thinks he’s overstepped a line regarding your comfort zone, he won’t hesitate to apologize sincerely.

Denki is canonically a HUGE music fan. That space in his head that was supposed to be for academic knowledge instead harbors extensive information on pop culture and entertainment, and he loves sharing new things with you. Punk? Rock? Indie? He’ll have a taste of it all in his multiple playlists on Spotify Premium. Man turns up his headphone volume so loud that you’re confused as to how he isn’t deaf yet. If you’re having a rough day, he puts those big chunky (noise blocking!) ones over your ears and kisses the top of your head, tossing you his phone and letting you pick any song of preference.

Y’all have mandatory vibe parties in his dorm room every week. They can last as long as five hours without breaks. FIVE FUCKING HOURS. There’s snacks, you help pick out the songs in the queue, and someone nearly breaks an ankle during a transition from Mom Jeans’ “Edward 40hands” into The Oh Hellos’ “Bitter Water” but it’s all good in the end. He’s definitely a hype man too, so expect to dissolve into fits of laughter at his energized attempts to cheer you on.

Oh, he can also play electric guitar, so do with that information what you will. Just kidding, I’ll help boost your imagination a little bit: him teaching you the chords to a song you love while sitting in between his legs on the common room couch. With his fingers just barely grazing over your own as he guides you through. Send tweet.

I just know he doesn’t have a stable sleep schedule, so prep your night owl ass for some late night dorm sneak-in shenanigans and a few deep conversations to follow it. Do you both sometimes fall asleep on the floor of each other’s rooms at 3 am? Yeah...sometimes y’all share three brain cells combined, but it simply adds to your charm.

You make runs off campus together all the time, too! It’s a known fact around the Class 1-A dorm that you both love volunteering for monthly grocery shopping, but everyone finds it hard to trust the sound decision-making of you dorks after the incident — otherwise known as you and Denki spending a good fraction of the school-provided food funds on multiple random snack brands. ‘It was a one time thing,’ you insist, and since no one else wants to go on the grocery store trek they’re inclined to believe it. Some classmates were more excited about that particular event than others (although Kaminari swears on his vintage record collection that he saw Iida indulge himself on a pack of Pretz), so it’s become a regular thing for students to include a couple snack requests on their shopping list.

To sum it up, Denki makes sure that every day is never completely boring, and his primary payment comes in the occasional glimpse of your smile — and maybe a little kissy if that’s okay (yes, he literally says kissy 😘, istg punch him in the stomach or something he’s so fucking dumb). He’s charming in a stupid, dorky way, but so sincere where it counts that you can’t help but love him at all times. He’d love your ass so much and I just know it in my bones that he’d take care of you, throughout all of the stupid shit you experience together.

#genesisrose 1k event #matchup event #aesthetic matchup #my hero academia matchups #denki kaminari #ikigaitooru #ramsey!!

11 notes · View notes

vminvisiblestring · 4 years

Text

the boys season 2 episode 4 - nothing like it in the world: random thoughts and commentary

SPOILERS FOR THE BOYS SEASON TWO EPISODE FOUR AND THE BOYS COMICS

tw // abortion , death , drugs , nazis , world war ii

frenchie doing drugs? interesting development

i love frenchie and kimiko but frenchie kissing kimiko kind of came out of left field a little considering hes been trying to establish a line of communication with her maybe that part shouldve waited until at least halfway through the season? or maybe build it up a little more for more payoff? idk this frenchie doesnt seem like the kind of person to do something like that

i support stormfronts rights to shut the fuck up

remember what i said before about homelanders mommy issues? yeah i meant that shit

seriously. therapy. homelander. think about it.

early theory is im hoping the boys are gonna recruit soldier boy with payback instead of fighting against them in the comics and since liberty isnt in the original comics, theyre either a substitute for someone in payback thats gonna lead them to the rest of the team or theyre gonna do something to liberty thats gonna cause payback to come in considering soldier boy is the leader.

OR since stormfront was also in payback with soldier boy theyll introduce him that way and make him evil but i dont know about that...

DO NOT trust black noir

super side note but that “that baby you abort might be super” sign mm annie and hughie pass by was a really smart subtle jab at the abortion debate (obviously its being used to oppress and pressure women into keeping their babies, grounding it in the real world where womens rights to their own bodies is being challenged)

mm and annie bonding is what i like to see

damn this writing is something else mm going to baskin robbins every sunday after church brought my ass back to when i did that with my family as a kid

i really feel like im walking around in the dark with the storyline here they cant follow the comics with beccas isnt dead i cant think of what the ending will be like

IM GONNA RUN HOMELANDER OVER WITH A TRAIN

HOMELANDER AND THE COMPLETE AUDACITY OF THIS BITCH

yes to giving kimiko autonomy

LIBERTY WILL NOT SEE HEAVEN

WAIT OKAY YEAH SINCE LIBERTY AND STORMFRONT ARE ONE AND THE SAME (liberty is a show creation prob to further stormfronts origins) SHE STILL WONT SEE HEAVEN

OH MY GOD OKAY since theres a deviation from the comics heres a theory: since stormfront is a nazi from the 40′s and was injected with compound v and worked with the germans blah blah blah youre tired of me saying it we go with what starlight said about the slow aging and since soldier boy is part of payback like stormfront was and hes also from the 40′s and they both fought in wwii thats how we are going to get him in season three i have: connected the dots

“this warpath youve been on started before me” okay so they might leave something from the comics after all okay

black noir has too much of a keen interest in butcher and i wanna know why bc we arent getting the comic ending so stop that

the deep is still in crisis mode as he fucking should be the fucking bitch

why am i not as uncomfortable about that homelander scene as i should be? could it be bc nothing this idiot does surprises me? yeah i think thats it

tl;dr - thank you for listening to my random thoughts on the boys feel free to add on bc wow we all took a turn today huh?

56 notes · View notes

theyungrose · 3 years

Text

Chrysanthemums and Daisies (Roman Reigns/Jey Uso X OC)

A/N: More Chrysanthemum and Daisy for the TL today. Enjoy!

Chapter 3: Rematches and Realizations

Daisy stayed with Chrysanthemum for the remainder of the show talking with her sister about her match and other things, but not once did she bring up Jey. How could she? The last thing Daisy needed her sometimes holier-than-thou sister believing is that she was only focused on finding love, especially her first night on her show. Not only that, from the looks of whatever intense exchange her sister and Roman had before she walked in, that part of the locker room wasn’t really friendly territory. At least to her.

Still, she couldn’t forget the gentleness in his chocolate eyes, the smooth velvety feel of his skin, or the dreamy butter voice he spoke to her in; even for those few seconds. Admittedly Jey hurt her feelings a little bit with the way he reacted to her after her match, it’d brought her down from her victory high quite a bit. Could she blame him though? His cousin was a tyrant.

“What boy are you thinking about now Daisy?”

Chrysanthemum lightly hit Daisy over the head with a beanie before pulling it over her head.

“No one...”

“My ass little girl, who is it?”

Daisy giggled jumping off her big sister’s desk. Chrysanthemum was the perfect balance of mom figure and older sister when she wanted to be, a trait she had perfected over the years.

“There’s no boy mom. He’s a man.”

With her back turned Daisy couldn’t see Chrysanthemum roll her eyes playfully. She had to see Daisy finding a love interest here coming, she found love interests everywhere. She was in love with the idea of love, and as cute and sweet as that was, it was just as dangerous.

“Well you make sure this man doesn’t become the reason I have to yell at you too. I was so proud watching my sister’s hand get raised for the first time on my brand.”

The duo continued to suit up for the cold December air awaiting them outside. Right before they were about to leave, Daisy decided to run to the bathroom one last time.

“Daisy I will leave you here if you’re not back in five minutes.”

Daisy grinned kissing her sister on the cheek.

“You won’t though.”

In all honesty, Daisy was actually looking to use the bathroom before the flight back to Georgia, but the smallest part of her hoped Jey was still here. Hopefully he wouldn’t regard her the same way if he was.

“Daisy...”

See? All it took was a little patience.

Jey had almost missed her, Daisy was on her way back to her sister’s office when he ran into her at the end of the hallway. He was dressed to leave himself, decked out in a black beanie and heavy black winter coat.

“I thought I had missed you.”

Daisy just smiled as she looked up at him, hopefully he didn’t find her slight infatuation with him creepy or disturbing.

“Almost, I was just about to leave.”

Jey leaned against the wall they were standing next to, admiring the smaller woman in front of him. He tried hard not to make it too obvious, but he couldn’t help it. From the moment her small hand had touched him the way she did when they first met, it was as if she’d placed him under a magic spell. Her beauty enthralled him, the soft tone she spoke in sounded like singing in his ears, and he was sure those emerald green irises could tame a savage beast.

She herself, was magic.

“I’m sorry about how I reacted to you earlier, when you tried to talk to me. I know you were only trying to help.”

Daisy nodded clasping her hands in front of her.

“I know. It must be hard having to live with that everyday.”

“It’s torture actually.”

Daisy felt the urge to reach out and touch him but she quelled it, partially scared of how he might react. She yearned to comfort him though, to take some of that heavy burden away.

“He acts like this around family too. Not just my brother, everyone. I’ll never understand how you can just turn on family like that, as if we weren’t here for you when no one else was.”

Jey’s head began to droop again, and just like he’d secretly hoped for, her hand lifted it back up again, bringing his eyes back to hers.

“I’m sorry Jey, that must be terrible. No one deserves to be treated that way.”

Jey responded with a soft smile, avoiding his mistake from earlier tonight and allowing her hand to stay there for as long as she wanted to.

“Do you have a ride to the airport? I assume your heading home for the weekend.”

Only then did it occur to Daisy that Chrysanthemum was still waiting on her, probably with smoke fuming from her ears as she was not one to wait.

“Yeah I am, I have a flight to Atlanta in a few hours actually. As for the ride, if you’re offering...”

“I’m on my way to the A too. There’s this little underground burger spot I know about where we can wait until morning.”

Daisy grinned tucking her hair behind her ears. This wasn’t an opportunity she was going to give up by a long shot, even for a road trip with her sister. They had plenty of times for those, and she figured without having to go the extra mile to drop her at the airport, Chrysanthemum could stay here in Maryland where she lived.

Unfortunately, big sister didn’t share the same sentiment.

“What do you mean you have a ride? Who are you riding with?”

Daisy was never one to lie to her sister, but this time she knew her late night date with Jey depended on it, and while sisters always came before misters, tonight, quite frankly it was quiet for all that.

“I’m gonna drive myself to the airport. That way you don’t have to make the extra trip.”

Chrysanthemum raised her eyebrow crossing her arms over her chest.

“Little girl, I drove you here today. How are you going to drive yourself anywhere?”

Now, Chrysanthemum was no dummy. She could add two and two and get four; whatever guy had her deep in her thoughts a short while ago obviously had found her while she went to go pee (or she found him) and now she wanted to ride with him instead. A silly and hasty decision on the part of her sister, but not one she could fault her for. She was lovesick and young one time too.

“I know that look, that means you understand. Thank you sis I love you!”

Daisy ran up to her sister and wrapped her in a tight hug, placing a long kiss on her cheek before grabbing up the rest of her things. Chrysanthemum didn’t say anything as she packed, but right before she ran out the door she spoke up.

“Daisy.”

Daisy stopped mid-stride before her handle could touch the door, silently praying Chrysanthemum hadn’t changed her mind.

“Does he know we’re sisters?”

Daisy glanced over her shoulder, noting the subtle worry on her older sister’s face.

“No of course not. No one does.”

Chrysanthemum nodded giving her a small smile.

“Keep it that way.

The conversations between Jey and Daisy seemed to stretch on for hours. She loved the way he chuckled a bit at his own jokes, and he loved the way her eyes were focused only on him the entire time he spoke. Being the quieter twin of the Uso duo, he wasn’t used to that much attention, but Daisy watched and listened to him as if he was the most intriguing man on this Earth. And to her, he was.

Admittedly, Jey would be lying if he said it didn’t surprise him how fast Daisy took to him. Daisy was gorgeous, absolutely stunning to be exact, she had the kindest spirit he’d ever come across, and with those green eyes she could have any man she looked at. Yet, here she was with him. Jey didn’t want to imagine how different life would be if he’d never taken the time to talk to her earlier, or if he hadn’t found her before she left the arena. He wondered what good karma allowed the universe to bless him so.

“Why are you staring at me?”

Her soft voice pulled Jey from the trance he’d unknowingly fallen into while speaking to her, and he realized that he was indeed staring at her with his chin propped up on his hand.

“Sorry Daisy I didn’t mean to stare. I think I just got lost in your aura for a moment...you’re just magical girl.”

Daisy smiled softly, pushing her chair back so she could rise from her seat. Jey looked at her questioningly as she slid her warm hand into his, urging for him to stand with her. Slow holiday music played from the speakers in the bar’s walls, and as she pulled him under the ambient lighting in the middle of the space, Jey realized that she was silently asking him for a dance.

There were a few other superstars from Smackdown gathered in the bar with them, but as Jey glanced around at them no one seemed to be paying much attention. Daisy smiled into his chest as his body finally relaxed against hers and his free hand slid along her side to cup her back. Now closer to her than ever before, Jey took in the notes of vanilla and amber in her scent. The softness of her straight hair against his cheek.

It was then that Jey started to realize the magic he held in his arms, and soon he was convinced that meeting her tonight was no coincidence. Daisy was a free, gentle spirit, warmth and love exuded from the depths of her being, and Jey knew then and there he only wanted that warmth and love for himself. She was a fragile snowflake that had tumbled down from the heavens into his hands, and he would protect his fragile snowflake with his life if he had to.

He would hold her in his hands forever, just as he did now.

Meanwhile, Daisy couldn’t have been any happier. She’d trusted this feeling from the moment she felt it, and her intuitions had not misled her. She knew the energies that drew her into this man was not to be ignored, and now here in his arms, she felt safer than she’d ever been. His arms around her were like her favorite comforter wrapped around her naked body with the heat going.

There couldn’t be a more perfect ending to this perfect day.

*****

Fast forward a few days and it was Monday Night Raw, and as promised Roman interrupted McIntyre in the middle of his promo and demanded a rematch from Survivor Series. Drew didn’t pass up the opportunity, and with a few verbal jabs there was security overcrowding the ring to keep the two men from tearing the other to shreds.

It would have to wait until the end of the night.

Roman knew in the back of his head that this wasn’t a good idea, and Paul surely wasn’t allowing him to forget. He knew Drew was almost an impossible feat to overcome, he’d barely succeeded the first time. He knew this. To attempt it twice was simply put, a stupid idea. Nonetheless, Roman was here strapping up for his match because he had something to prove.

More specifically, something to prove to her.

Chrysanthemum had occupied the Samoan’s mind since the last time they spoke. As a man, a woman that attempts to challenge his power should offend him, and offend him strongly. Yet, when Chrysanthemum spoke, even as she was ripping him a new ass, he was undeniably drawn to her.

Her power matched his, only his. The way she walked and carried herself through life, he admired it. She was the alpha female if he’d ever seen one, and the only one worthy enough to hold her hand was the hand of the Chief.

When he reached the gorilla for his main event match, he was pleasantly surprised to find her standing in the corner beside the curtains. Even more surprising, she’d changed her hair. The usual raven black was now mixed with a light honey blonde, the splash of color bringing out the bright features of her face.

“I’m assuming you’re here to watch your champ go main event?”

Chrysanthemum smirked at his cocky tone, on a worse night it would’ve pissed her off, but even she would admit she was happy to see him.

“Actually I’m surprised you showed up at all. You’re usually more stubborn than this, at least that’s what I’ve heard.”

Chrysanthemum had been this close to him on Friday, but this time he was shirtless. Hair wet down his chest and shoulder, dripping water down his abs. It was a little bit harder to maintain her composure. At least a smidge.

“Well I’ve got something to prove to you tonight little mama, and I’m never one to disappoint.”

At the end of the day Chrysanthemum was still a boss woman. She was here only to represent her broken brand and bring some power and respect back to it, which was the only thing Roman needed to focus on. This wasn’t about whatever Roman was trying to make it about, and she would show him mercy if-and only if- he walked out of here the victor tonight on his own. Polynesian God or not.

He was still just a man.

Roman noted the sudden straight expression that covered Chrysanthemum’s face, and secretly he hoped he hadn’t offended her.

“Don’t call me little, Reigns. And don’t embarrass me either. I’d hate to walk out of here with a loser.”

Just then Roman’s music echoed through the Superdome.

“I think that’s you’re cue...champ.”

Roman smirked down at her as they walked past each other, him towards the curtains and her towards the computer monitors. They shared one last glance as she sat down at a desk and pulled a headset over her ears. With those full pink lips she mouthed...

Make me proud.

And boy did he.

As promised, Roman gave Drew the ass whooping of a lifetime. It was like watching a man with nothing to lose yet all the world to prove, and Chrysanthemum loved every second. He dominated damn near the whole match, and in the small moments where it looked like Drew had the upper hand, he came back ten times harder.

As soon as he hit Drew with a deadly spear in middle of the ring, Chrysanthemum knew it was over. But its when he didn’t go for a pin, that’s when she knew she had him wrapped up like a toy on Christmas.

When Drew finally stood up Roman nailed him with another spear more deadly than the first one. Then with a white fire in his eye Roman hit him with a third, nearly snapping the poor Irishman in half.

“That’s a man on a mission there.” One of the producers said.

Chrysanthemum could only giggle and grin to herself, knowing she was the reason why.

@lavitabella87 @oncetwiceandoveragain @msbigredmachine @stellarollins

@saccreigns @fatedxdestiny @thewrestlingobsessor @bigpsychicbagelauthor @jasmine03322

#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns #joeanoa'i x OC romanreigns x OC #joe anoa'i #joe anoai fanfiction #romanreignsxocfanfiction #jey uso #jeyusofanfiction #jeyuso x oc #theusos #theusosfanfiction #wwe #wwefanfiction

21 notes · View notes

mysterioh · 4 years

Text

The Ignorant Beauty and The Beast of New York - Ch. 12

PAIRING: MOB!STEVE ROGERS X READER

SYNOPSIS: Y/N is an exhausted bio major. Steve is danger with a capital DANGER. She thinks he’s a sarcastic prick with an impressive knowledge of art history. He thinks she’s cute even if she’s only running on one brain cell. All he wants is a single date, but she’s adamant upon denying.

A/N: For some reason my taglist didn’t work last time. Some people didn’t get a noti so make sure you read ch. 11. Link in masterlist!!

Masterlist

Best Excercise For The Heart? Getting Chased by Mob.

Peter's heart was beating on another plane of existence.

His palms were sweaty and stomach just a bit queasy. He knew he shouldn't have had such a big breakfast, but it's not like May would let him leave the house without at least three pancakes shoved into his mouth.

Bucky greets Peter by slapping his hand over his shoulder making him jump in surprise.

"Woah, chill out kid," Bucky said with a chuckle.

"Sorry," he shook his head. "I'm just a little nervous."

"I got ya," Bucky replied. "Listen there's nothing to it, you just gotta sit there. The boss is gonna do all the talking. He just wants us there for backup. Natasha can’t make it so you’re gonna take her spot."

"But why does he want me there?" Peter asked curiously, "I'm still new and–"

"The big guy thinks you've got a lot of potential," Bucky explained and Peter's eyes grow wide in shock. The mob king thought he had potential? He smiles in hiding, trying to not let it get to him. Too late. Head full. Pride skyrocketing.

"Truth is, I don't see it," Bucky stated flatly, "but he's weird like that."

"Thanks, you're so nice," Peter replied, mildly sarcastic, but Bucky lets it go just this once. He shakes him with another pat on the back.

"Come on, get in," he pushes him into the office.

Peter takes a seat next to Sam who gives him a friendly smirk. At least he thinks it's friendly. He really can't tell with those two.

Steve enters the room and Peter sits straight up. The kingpin smiles warmly. “You brought the kid.”

“You told us to,” Bucky replied.

“Right,” Steve said as if he forgot. “How’s it goin’ kid? You and your girl doin’ alright?”

“Yes Sir!” he replied quickly. Steve Rogers remembers that he has a girlfriend. Wow, what a nice guy.

“Now listen here,” Sam brought him back to earth. “When the guy comes don’t get all bouncy. Just chill out and relax.”

“Uh-huh,” he nodded.

“And don’t go blabbing random stuff, ya hear?” Bucky reminded him.

“I don’t do that!” he retorted.

“Only talk when spoken too, but never answer if you don’t know what to say,” Sam instructed. “Never show someone else that you’re unsure. Always be confident even when you’re not.”

“Talk but don’t talk,” Peter repeated. “Be confident even when you’re not. That doesn’t make any sense!”

“It makes perfect sense,” Bucky retorted. “You’re just stupid.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Don’t mess this up, kid or your ass is grass,” Sam warned, earning a loud, guttural groan from Peter.

Steve chuckled. “Listen, Pete, just go with your gut, ya hear? Just go with what you know, alright?”

“Yes, Sir!” He nodded like a child.

A knock came at the door and opened.

“Mr. Rogers,” the secretary popped her head through the door. “Mr. Rumlow is here.”

“Let him in,” Steve waved towards him. She opens the door wider and Brock Rumlow enters. Peter observes him. A scar running across his left cheek with beady black eyes that just screamed sneaky. Not even a word and the boy already knew he couldn’t be trusted.

"Mr. Rogers," Rumlow greeted, extending his hand.

"Mr. Rumlow," Steve shook his hand, "Just call me Steve."

"So the rumors are true, you're an easy man to talk to."

"I just hate the formality and if we can," Steve stated, "let's finish this quick."

"Of course, I know you're a busy man." Rumlow smiles, taking a seat in front of him. "What I'm here for. What I want from you is help," he said. "I need money, investment money. I need three million dollars in cash," he explained further.

Peter's eyes widened. He spoke as if it was a small amount and Steve looked at him with utter nonchalance as if he's just asking for spare change.

"And what else?" Steve question, hooking his leg over the other, tapping the ash off of his cigarette.

"I need connections and you have very powerful friends," Rumlow continued. "I need those politicians you keep in your back pocket."

"And what's in it for us?"

"Forty percent," Rumlow stated. "And by the end of the year you'll be raking in around eight to ten million," he estimated.

"And the Lucchese?"

Rumlow chuckles. "I'll take care of them from my own share."

Steve ponders on the information for a bit. His expression was hard to read, leaving the rest in the room waiting in anticipation of his decision. He sat relaxed in his chair, not slumped, but confident and nonchalant.

"So, I get forty percent for finance, political influence, and legal protection?" He points out, extending his fingers as the list goes.

"That's right." Rumlow nodded.

"Why me though?" Steve questioned with a shake of the hand. "Why do I deserve all this generosity?"

Rumlow scoffs. "If three to four million is a small price for you, kingpin, then cheers to you."

Steve's eyes look at him sharply, then he smiles. To Peter, it's more dangerous than friendly.

"I've heard you're a businessman," Steve reminded him, burning out his cigarette in an ashtray. "A serious man needed to be treated with respect."

Rumlow's cocky smile falls and twists into a subtle scowl.

"The thing is I've been looking into this new drug you're proposing. This is nasty stuff worse than any other drug on the market as of now," Steve criticized and Rumlow wasn't pleased.

"Now let's just say this stuff hits it big. Bigger than crack and weed, which it probably will," he stood up and paced the office. "Those crackheads will take anything that gets 'em off for a good ten minutes. But let's just say hypothetically, it gets stuck in the hands of a policeman or even worse—a kid, and he gets caught smoking or even worse dead with that crap. That causes a major issue for me," he points at himself while standing in front of Rumlow.

Rumlow looks up at him and it's like he already knows the answer.

"Yeah, I've got a lot of friends, but I don't think the mayor would be so friendly if he knew I was caught up in this stuff," Steve remarked. "That thing you got is nasty."

"Mr. Rogers," he retorted firmly.

"Listen, I don't care what a man does for a living," Steve cut him off. "I mean look at me. But your business is a bit dangerous."

"If you're worried about your investment. The Lucchese will take care of it." Rumlow assured.

Steve shakes his head with a laugh. The Lucchese were going to insure him? What was he some second rate gangster?

"My answer is final, Mr. Rumlow. It's a no." Steve stated firmly. "Good luck with your business. I know you'll do very well and I wish you all the best. As best as your interests don't conflict with mine." He wished him with a warning in his tone.

Rumlow stands up with a scornful smile. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Rogers," he shook his hand. "I appreciate it."

"No problem," Steve said, placing his hand over their hands and giving it a final good shake. "Buck, please see Mr. Rumlow to the door."

"No, no," he replied. "That won't be necessary. I can find it myself," he nods and leaves the room. “Not like I found much help here anyway.”

"Hey, Pete," Steve said, he points his head towards the door, "follow him out from a distance."

Peter nodded, dashing for the door.

"You think we did the right thing?" Bucky asked, leaning against the desk.

"We can't risk our connections, Buck," Steve said, lighting another stick. "Besides, me? Insured by the Lucchese? Get the fuck outta here," Steve remarked, a chuckle coloring his words making the two erupt in laughter, filling the room with a lighter air.

"You know you don't have to walk me to the bus stop anymore." You said, walking out of the restaurant. "It's only a block away."

A sudden blow of wind rushes past, making you snuggle into the wool scarf wrapped around your neck. You dig your hands deeper into your pockets and look over at Steve to find him unphased by the freezing temperatures of January. Freak.

"I take my job as your bodyguard very seriously." He replied.

"You're not my bodyguard. I don't need a man to protect me." You retorted defiantly.

"Woah there, Susan B. Anthony," Steve put his hands up in surrender, "I was just saying. Don't get all feminist on me."

"And what's wrong with being feminist?" You jabbed.

"Nothing. I love women. All of them. They're amazing. Absolutely wonderful," he complimented. "But not in a creepy way. More of a respectful and cool kinda way."

"Just stop talking, you're making my head spin," you sighed, shaking your head.

"You're so dramatic," he nudged you with his shoulder.

"You're the dramatic one," you pointed out.

"Am not," he retorted.

"Are you joking me right now?" You asked incredulously. "Oh heavens no, she doesn't speak the language of arts whatever shall I do?" You acted breathlessly desperate. Steve rolled his eyes and kept walking.

"How can someone be so simpleminded? I guess I'll just die right here." You fainted against his shoulder with your hand on your forehead and a dramatic sigh.

He pushes you off of him, secretly liking how open you're being with him.

"Ha ha ha, you're hilarious," Steve deadpanned.

"Thanks, I know," you replied boastfully. He snorts, looking away so you wouldn't see him smiling.

He failed. It was hard to miss that pretty smile of his. I didn't mean that. It was a completely objective observation.

Even if you told him not to walk you to the bus stop, you had to admit you enjoyed his company. Your cold cheeks were brushed with a numbing red, but the rest of you was warm. You didn't say a word the rest of the way there, just listened and watched.

You quietly listened to the distant drone of traffic, watched the lights of houses flip on and off. Cool steam rose from the sewer holes and swept along the asphalt of the street. There's not a soul in sight and what sane person would want to be out on a cold night like this? Your footsteps grew gradually slower not really in a hurry to get anywhere. Like they're trying to make the journey last as long as it can.

You don't know why, but the air feels tense. Heavy with something you can't really find a name for, but something you knew all too well. You pull your sweaty hands out of your pockets, stretching them to get some air through the cracks.

Steve watches his footsteps and how they're in sync with yours. He feels more at peace here with you than he's felt in the past week. You're like a remedy to all his problems.

When he's with you, the pressures of the mob slowly fade away. The burden of working over a hundred men and maintaining his power disappears for just a moment of time. When he's with you, he's not the kingpin, he's just Steve. Just a normal guy. You've never really seen him as anything else and he hopes it'll stay like that forever.

"That's strange," you said, checking your phone for the time while approaching the bus stop. "The bus is usually here by now."

"Maybe it's just a few minutes late?"

"Maybe."

The two of you waited for the bus patiently. Ten minutes had passed and the bus was nowhere to be seen. You looked from side to side to check the street and your eyes fell onto the car standing right across you. It was black with tinted windows. You recalled seeing the same exact car outside the restaurant and that part of your brain stuffed with crime shows is finally starting to crank its gears.

The car was off and there was a good chance that no one was inside, but you were never one to believe in coincidences.

"Steve," you said making sure not to look at the car again.

"Yeah?" He asked and from his face, you think he's already noticed.

"I might be crazy but I feel like I've seen the car across the street," you said, calmly. "At the restaurant."

"So have I," he nodded with a smile as if he's just having a casual conversation.

"Then what do we do?" You asked, shrugging.

"Let's just walk," he replied, pulling you along with him.

You walked down the sidewalk side by side and while your expression was calm, your insides were a frantic mess.

The quick rhythmic beat of your steps against the cracked sidewalks wasn't the only thing breaking the deafening silence of the street as the sound of car doors slamming and burly footsteps shuffled behind you slowly.

Your fingers intertwined with Steve's instinctively and he squeezes your hand tight. You look at him, heart thumping and thoughts racing.

"Hey, baby, don't worry, I got you." He gave you an amused smile, masking his own fear.

This isn't the first time something like this has happened, or the second, or the third. It's happened many times just not with an innocent civilian by his side. He had a knack for being a bit reckless but with you here he couldn't take that risk. Your safety was his top priority.

You pouted with a huff. "Don't call me, baby," you warned, your strides growing wider to match his.

"At the corner, we make a run for it," he ordered.

You nodded, taking silent, deep breaths to calm your speeding heart. You didn't dare to take a look behind in fear of what you'd see. Not like you needed to see anything. The sound of their footsteps was enough to know that something was wrong, slow and anxiously needy. Each step towards the end of the street gets heavier. The ones behind getting dangerously closer.

Steve pulls on your hand as he makes a sharp turn at the bend, dragging you behind him like a kite in the wind. You don't even know how you're keeping up with him at this point. It's just one foot in front of the other powered by an extraordinary rush of adrenaline.

You can hear the baying howls of the men behind you, ordering you to stop as if you're actually going to do that.

Steve's death grip on your hand is the only thing that keeps you anchored to the real world. Your thoughts are blank and all you can think of how you're possibly going to get out of this.

There are two of you against at least five of them.

Scratch that. More like one and a half against five.

You're screwed. This was where you died and you didn't even get to graduate from college yet.

Steve takes a sharp left at the corner and squeezes you into a tight alleyway between two buildings.

You put your hand over your mouth, muffling the sound of your breathing. Heavy footsteps draw nearer and continue past the alleyway until they fade into the distance. Your hand drops to your side allowing you to take free breaths of fresh air.

"You okay?" Steve asked, catching his own breath.

You look up at him and nodded. "Yeah."

The alleyway was narrow, very narrow, and the two of you were pressed against each other with only enough wiggle room for one to move.

Steve's cheeks redden by the way your body is pressed against his in all the right places. Sure he's imagined it before, but not exactly like this. He looks at everything but you, so he doesn’t lose himself.

He's not alone in his embarrassment as you start to heat up despite the frigid temperatures of a midwinter's night.

"D-do you–um–do you think they're gone?" You whispered.

He shrugs unknowingly. You squeeze past him just enough to stick your head out. You look to the left then to right.

"I think the coast is clear," you said, getting out of the tight spot. Steve follows suit and pats the dust off his clothes.

"Well that was something," he chuckles nervously.

You place your hands on your hips with a judgemental look. "You've got a lot of explaining to do."

Steve scratches the back of his head sheepishly.

In the distance, the shrill screeching of wheels blares in the night with a blinding light coming in your direction.

You should run, but your legs feel like mush and getting caught sounded better than running right now. Steve covers you with himself as the car slows just in front of you.

The window rolls down to reveal a cheeky Bucky.

Steve groans for the whole neighborhood to hear. "For fuck's sake, Buck, you scared the shit out of me."

You peek out from behind him to find Bucky. His eyes meet yours and he smirks devilishly.

"Sorry, big boss, been lookin' everywhere for you," he gets out of the car with a chuckle. "And of course I'd find you canoodling with ya girl."

"I am no one's girl," you stated firmly, jumping out from behind.

"Right. We're not there yet," Bucky replied and Steve might just snap his neck if he keeps talking. "Anyways my name's Bucky, I'm an old friend of Stevie's. Nice to finally meet ya," he extends his hand. You shake it warily. "That's Sam," he points at the man standing against the car behind him and I guess you already know Pete."

"Hi, Y/N!" Peter waves, falling out of the back window with a gummy smile on his face.

You gasp at the sight of the curly-haired boy. You run up to him at the window.

"Peter! What are you doing here?" You questioned. "Do you know what time it is? Go home to your girlfriend!"

"I wish." Peter sighed sadly, arms dangling out of the car. "But I can't, I'm on night duty."

"Listen," Bucky directed towards Steve, "we got some trouble down at the dock in the Bronx. We think it's Rumlow."

Steve mutters a curse underneath his breath.

"I guess he's the same bastard that tried to kill me like five minutes ago," he cursed. "Can't take no for an answer."

"Who's Rumlow? And why is he trying to kill you?" You asked, eyes solely on Steve, questioning his every gesture.

Steve sighed, not really wanting you to get involved in all of this. He knew it'd happen someday, but not this fast.

"I think it's best if we not talk about this out in the open," Sam advised. "So get in the car."

"Best idea you've had all day, Sammy," Bucky noted opening his door.

"Shut up."

Peter opens the door and scoots over to let you in and you have no choice but to go in. After what just happened, there's no way you're walking home alone.

Steve sits right next to you and closes the door behind him, signaling Sam to drive. It's kind of awkward being stuck in a car with a bunch of mobsters, but beggars can't be choosers. At least you know they won't kill you.

"Nat's already at the house," Bucky told Steve. "She's the one who found out about the whole mixup in the Bronx."

Steve nodded with a cautious look in his eye. Bucky knew exactly what he was saying without him even saying a word.

"Not in front of her."

"So where exactly are we going?" You asked.

"My place," Steve replied.

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought.

"If it's not a problem can you just drop me home?"

"I could but then I'd be worried about you all night," Steve said and it goes straight to the tips of your ears. It shouldn't have. The three snickered at Steve, but he ignored them. "Stay over my place for the night?"

“What? No, I can’t.” you denied. "I don’t even think they saw me,” you noted. “So it’ll be fine.”

“You sure about that sis?" Sam asked with a chuckle. "The mob ain’t as simple as it sounds. They’re probably already trying to figure out who you are.”

“Stop scaring her," Steve warned.

“I’m not scared.” you retorted. “I just don’t wanna intrude.”

“Or get involved," Bucky added.

“Maybe that too. So just drop me off please? I’ve got class in the morning.”

“Sorry, I can’t let that happen," Steve shakes his head in denial. "After what happened tonight who knows what’s gonna happen? I mean they could be trailing us for all we know. You really want those goons knowing where you live?”

“No," you whispered. You didn't think about it like that.

“Then just for tonight, okay?" He places his hand on top of yours and it feels nice, but not enough for you to accept. "I’ll drop you off first thing in the morning.”

“Don’t worry,” Bucky turned towards you from the front. “Stevie’s got a really nice place. With big fancy iron gates and a giant fountain. Never-ending fridge. The whole shebang."

Steve rolls his eyes. Sometimes he questioned why he even knew Bucky.

"Besides you'll love Lucky," Sam pointed out.

You furrowed your brows in confusion. "Lucky? Who's Lucky?"

"It's the boss's dog," Peter answered.

Your jaw goes slack in shock. "YOU HAVE A DOG?"

"Yeah," he said nonchalantly.

"WHAT KIND?" You questioned shaking his arm violently, "HOW OLD?"

"It's a Samoyed and two." He replied, pushed up against the door by the way you're bouncing on the seat.

"Okay let's go to your place," you agreed. Steve chuckles with a shake of the head. "Hey, Sam right?"

"Yeah?"

"No offense man, but can you drive any faster?" You questioned.

"I don't want a speeding ticket," Sam confessed.

You look at him incredulously.

"The Brooklyn Mob is just a bunch of twinks," you jeered.

"Hey!" Steve exclaimed.

"And you're the biggest one."

TAGLIST: @ashwarren32 @chuckennuggets1213 @captainchrisstan @rootcrop @savedbystark @siriusement @little-dark-empress @great-goddess-of-sin @scuzmunkie @achishisha @calwitch @thirstybunz @littlebees-things @booktease21 @rinkashirikitateku @voltage-my2dlove @boxofteenageideas @imsonick

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #mob!steve #mob!steve rogers x reader #mobster steve rogers x reader #mob!steve rogers x you #mob au #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fluff

303 notes · View notes

therovingstar · 3 years

Text

Prompt #5: Starlight

For the January 2021 @seaswolchallenge. 1288w, Ardbert x WoL (if you squint). Of course she would manage to remind him of home in a way that, for once, did not hurt. Takes place post-5.3, in a timeline in which Ardbert chose a second chance at life and followed the Scions back to the Source.

“I hope it will suffice.”

He almost forgets she’s there, until the warm rasp of her voice cuts through the percussion of his heart pounding in his ears. He blinks, and half expects the vision before him to collapse like the illusion it is, but…

No, it remains. By way of her magic, most like, a glittering manifestation of her aether creating the tapestry of stars above them. It rotates slowly, thousands of them seemingly stitched into the ink-black canvas of the sky, close enough to touch.

“I didn’t think you still used those cards,” he breathes. “Or that...star-shooting thing.”

“A planisphere,” she reminds him, with a smile he can hear in her tone, even if he has not looked down to see it. “And yes, I still use it. I am a healer, after all, first and foremost.” Now he hears her stretch, the soft rustle of cloth and her intake of breath as she angles her arms upward. “I suppose what I am healing right now is that pout on your face.”

That makes Ardbert finally look down, just in time to see the beginnings of her smile, her own gaze locked where his was previously. “I was not pouting,” he halfheartedly argues, feeling the temptation to gently jab her with his elbow.

“But you were disappointed,” Odzaya insists, and that he cannot deny. Why else had he come all the way out here in the middle of bloody nowhere, guided only by the promise of a kind stranger. “A spectacle guaranteed to bring tears to your eyes!” she had said, before traipsing off in clothing he thinks may have been Gridanian in origin. Or not; he is still so new here, after all. But her down-to-earth manner had been oddly charming, and the notebook she gave him a good distraction from another moment in which survivor’s guilt had struck and the point of his continued existence had once again been called into question.

So he had accepted the “sightseeing log,” as she had called it. Flipped through it while dodging young lost adventurers all looking so much – too much – like himself, like Lamitt and Renda and Nyelbert and Branden–

And one particular entry had caught his eye, about a place in Thanalan, far from the lights of the city, where the sky seemed so clear as to be like a window offering a glimpse into the cosmos. And because he was still so new to it all – to Eorzea, to the Source, to supposed life as a Scion – he had jumped at the chance to be away from it all, if only for a while. To see the stars – for no matter where you went, they never changed, did they? – and regain some perspective.

Of course she would still manage to find him.

“Stargazing was a bit of a hobby of mine, way back when,” he says instead of verbally confirming her statement. “In Kholusia, so close to the sea, the sky was often foggy, so clear nights could be rather rare, depending. When they came, I would climb to the roof of our house and gaze at the stars practically all night. Try to count them, and pick out shapes.” He smiles slightly. “They don’t look too different here.”

“Different shapes, perhaps,” Odzaya comments. “It took me some time to learn the ones they look for here.”

“I forget that you’re not originally from this continent. Othard, was it? In the east?”

“Mm,” she confirms. “In my homeland, we have different constellations, with different gods attached to them.”

“Then…” Ardbert again looks up at the tapestry she created, glowing with the lights of a million lightning bugs. Almost reflexively when it appeared, he looked for the constellations of the First, and then, feeling that telltale homesickness, switched his focus to those shared by the Eorzeans. Again, he was no expert, but learning them had served as another small hobby, another distraction. One that had paid off as he found them: the Arrow, the Balance, the Spire and the Spear. And yet they seemed slightly...altered? As if imagined by a different mind, viewed from a different perspective. “Is this that sky, then?” he asks. “The one you see?”

“There are similarities, mind,” she says, lightly shrugging her shoulders. She does not deny his claim. “Surprising ones. Here, the watcher of the stars is Nymeia, the goddess of fate. In my culture, it is the Dusk Mother Nhaama, goddess of the night. Just the same, Eorzea has Azeyma, goddess of balance and of the sun. For us, it is –”

“Azim the Dawn Father,” he answers. Odzaya cuts herself off in surprise, and finally, Ardbert looks down the scant inches separating them to see her eyes predictably widened in surprise. The sight makes his smile widen in turn. “Urianger’s been going on about it for days. The similarities between them all. Azeyma, and your Azim, and…” The one they used to be. The one they came from. “Azem,” he finishes, more soberly.

Then he smirks, for once refusing to allow the memories and melancholy to take root. “I wonder if you count among them, too. Odzaya.”

Her snort is loud and affronted enough to make him laugh. He calls her “princess,” but he finds his favorite moments with her are when she acts like the exact opposite of one. “I do not,” she says definitively. He hums, amused.

“I wonder. ‘Shepherd to the stars,’ or so that Emet-Selch called us.” He gestures upward and follows with his gaze, where the heavens still spin lazily, just for them. “You’re shepherding these easily enough. Mayhaps because it was your calling in our other life, too.” Our. For whatever reason, he doesn’t feel the connection quite as keenly to this Azem, this woman who had shined brighter than the sun, only to burn herself out for the sake of her doomed world. For the last century, he had been a shade, for gods’ sake, unnoticed and useless to all he had come across. The exact opposite of what she had apparently been.

But Odzaya, she fit. A single bright beam that had penetrated his purgatory, and brought him back to life.

And she has done it again. Here he was, lost in a muddied dark, alone, the sky barren of all but fog, trying in vain to find the light promised by a kind soul. And when he found none, she brought it to him, easy as anything.

Just as then, so as now.

“I can change it, you know,” Odzaya says. She shifts slightly, her eyes once more on her aether. “The shape of them. I remember the stars of the First well enough; they brought me comfort, too, on nights when I needed a reminder that my world still existed, that yours could still be saved. I could try to replicate them.” She smiles lightly. “You could show me your shapes.”

Ardbert considers; twould certainly be nice to see, if only momentarily, the sky of his youth, feel a similar wind blowing through his hair as he dreamed of other places.

Instead, he shifts himself – settling more into his skin, it feels like – and shakes his head. “Mayhaps another time,” he says casually. When he looks down, she is watching him, subtle skepticism and concern warring for supremacy on her pretty face. He thinks he could do something to assure her, poke his finger to the single scale patch interrupting the wide line of her nose, the way the Scions do when she tries to outdo all her daily little miracles.

He doesn’t. Not yet. Instead, he merely looks back up at her latest, and starts memorizing. “I like yours,” he declares. “Quite a bit, I think.”

#ardbert #odzaya malaguld #ardbert x wol #otp: fool-hearted #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #storytime #the train is still rolling #just slower lol #also i guess i'm committed to this now #welcome to the star-gazing club ardbert #we'll have to get him to the steppe #so he can appreciate them in full #courtesy of hien probably #the prompt that technically comes before this is coming #hien's hair is just being stubborn #hence why it's the subject of that prompt

13 notes · View notes

marvelhead17 · 3 years

Text

The Tale of Eossimar (Original Female Character x Bofur Fic)

Chapter 1

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings to cover the whole fic: Fake relationships, half-blood children, mild violence, fight scenes, male/male relationships, Dwarf gender concepts, battle of five armies fix-it, pre-battle of five armies, near death incidents, talking to dead people, mentions of paradise/heaven.

She walked along the thick branches and observed The Company down below; they had just narrowly escaped the giant spiders that had planned for them to be their dinner, having been caught just moments before in their tough webbing and struggling to regain their consciousness. She admired their determination to live and how they fought so fiercely, albeit ungracefully, but that was to be expected of dwarves.

A familiar soft screech sounded overhead and she turned her attention farther behind them, witnessing a group of Elves approaching with weapons ready in hand towards them, she tensed briefly as she saw the shadow of a figure running along the branch just above her own, and recognised the blond hair instantly.

“We’re clear!” a dwarf with a neatly trimmed beard called out, appearing to be leading the dwarves.

Within seconds the last of the spiders had been dispersed or killed off, and the elves had surrounded the dwarves with their arrows at the ready, the blond had made his grand entrance by crushing a spider and gliding down the slope using its dead body to slide under the belly of another and slicing it open, killing it instantly.

He raised his own arrow to the leading dwarf with a piercing gaze, “Do not think I won’t kill you, dwarf- it would be my pleasure,” the elf must have squinted at him, for she knew him well enough to recognise the tone he gave, and the dwarves lowered their weapons hesitantly.

She made a light clicking sound with her tongue and her barn owl flew to her side, perching on her outstretched arm, “This may be my only chance girl,” she rubbed under the owl’s beak carefully and gave a lopsided smile before sighing, “Could ye be a dear and drop these for me on my call?” the owl made a short yelp and reached her claw out to grab at the small grey pouches resting in her open palm. “Go,” she gently moved her arm forward to encourage the owl to fly away and smirked to herself.

“Help!” a voice called out from a short distance away, she glanced just further ahead and noticed a younger dwarf with ebony hair had been separated from the main group and appeared to be in trouble, she leaned forward and returned her attention back to the group below her, torn between who she should aid first.

“Kíli!” a young dwarf with honey hair turned around in the group, alarm clear in his features, the other lad, was facing a handful of spiders all on his own, without weapon nor thought to what may be of use.

Thwick.

An arrow struck a spider down and a elf-maid appeared out of the shadows, and pursued her onslaught of the creatures, the dwarf was desperate to be a part of the action, and she seemed to take no notice of the dwarf as he tried to gain her attention.

“Throw me a dagger! Quick!” he called out to the red-headed elf as a spider rapidly approached him.

“If you think I'm giving you-” she shot an arrow and struck down a spider, “A weapon, dwarf,” she turned her assault to her backside as one tried to sneak up behind her, “You’re mistaken!” she slashed at it and threw her dagger into the eyes of the spider behind the dwarf, and it curled up into a lifeless corpse.

The dwarf was completely stunned by the elf-maid’s skill, as she easily nudged him along to the rest of the group without argument on his side. She shoved him with the others and turned away from his staring, and she spoke quietly to the leading elf and he nodded, she then returned to the forest, disappearing from view.

“Search them.” the elf ordered, and the elves lowered their weapons to gather closer round the dwarves and inspect them for any hidden weapons.

She took a breath before standing and yelling loudly in Khuzdul, “[Hold yer breath!]” And before anyone could question what was happening, she raised two fingers to her mouth and whistled at full volume, and within seconds her barn owl flew overhead, screeching out eagerly, releasing the pouches from her grasp.

Once they hit the ground a puff of lilac dust filled the air around the dwarves, a few of the elves coughed and waved their hands in front of their faces to clear it away, before falling unconscious to the forest floor. She sighed in relief, upon realising the dwarves had heeded her order to hold their breaths as none of them lay with the elves.

She then leaped down from her branch and rolled effortlessly onto her feet, making the dwarves jump in their skins, and stare in awe at the stranger who had come to their aid. She performed a mock bow and paused upon hearing a grunt from behind her, she turned on her feet to see the blond elf was still standing and very clearly vexed with the situation that had just ensued.

“You again,” he huffed and stepped forward, pulling out his set of long twin daggers from his side to swing at her, she ducked easily having anticipated it.

She struck him in the stomach to send him off balance, and it had worked briefly before he had made another step forward to continue his assault, his stabbing motions were haphazard at best, as his fighting was fuelled by outrage. She gave another punch to his face this time and stunned him enough to make him stagger backwards, shaking his head, but was too slow to counteract and she seized her opportunity to take hold of one of the daggers he held.

She forced it from his grip and made a quick cut to his cheek, a warning, and it alarmed him enough to release the twin dagger and it sunk into the forest floor. He stepped back, touching the drop of blood that came from the wound, before regaining his thoughts and deciding the problem could be dealt with later. He reached behind his back for his bow and arrow and was quick to draw it back, the string becoming taut with his pull on it.

She dropped the other dagger to sit with its twin and smirked at the elf, he only squinted at her, she stepped forward and the dwarves held the breaths, they had remained motionless throughout the brief fight and were now uncertainly anticipating what may come next.

“Now, now, let’s be adults about this and put the toys away, shall we?” she nudged the arrow from her face with one finger, not breaking his intense gaze and he narrowed his eyes further.

“It seems very unlikely that you would not act as a child,”

“{Humorous as always},” she rolled her eyes and leaned forward a little more, “{I think it would be best if you were to leave, the Dwarves are not of your concern},”

“Last I was aware this was Elven territory and therefore they are trespassing, which makes it all the more my concern,” he retorted, “And yet again, your terrible accent ruins the elegance of our Elvish tongue,”

“Ye still understood what I was saying, now get lost,” she spat back, she turned on her heel to face the dwarves, and they finally had a first real look at their helper.

They could not help their staring, as she was truly a rare being; her clothing was not in any way feminine, save for the tunic almost acting as a short dress, which was worn over brown tights. The tunic she wore was a rich maroon; it was lined around the edges with traces of shimmering gold. However, it was not made to size and gave plenty of room, had it not been for the subtle curve of her chest or the softness of her beardless face, she could have easily been mistaken as a man.

Her hair was short and messy, unlike any dwarrow or even dwarf would keep for cultural purposes, though she had somehow managed a tightly woven braid on her head and a loose braid ending with a single bead on her left side. Her hair allowed her ears to be in full view- they were pointed just like an elf’s, at least one was- as the other seemed to be deformed from damage and had a small piercing on the outer ear.

She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted, “You cannot still be harbouring hard feelings-” he started, and she immediately turned around to confront him.

“Oh- so ye care about feelings all of a sudden do ye?” she flicked her wrist in the air quickly, snapping her fingers in quick succession, and they heard yet another screech, this time round more noticeable than the first, and a small barn owl appeared from the shadows of the trees.

It whizzed by at great speed towards the elf and gripped his bow in its talons, the arrow fell to the ground, becoming useless without its partner, and having stepped forward already she then threw the strap of his bag of arrows from his shoulder, she tossed it to the side out of reach and gave him a swift kick in his gut, making him stumble and fall to his knees. He had no choice but to look up to her from the ground as he spoke.

“I did not mean-”

“Ye’re full of it, and ye know what Legolas? It’s said that actions speak louder than words, perhaps then ye will understand how I am feeling,” she threatened, jabbing a finger at him angrily.

“Do you really wish to do this?” He pleaded with her suddenly, but she was not having it.

“Aye, I do,” she moved nearer and hovered over his now smaller form, and then promptly kicked him in the groin, he whimpered with a squeak and his hands moved over to protect the area from further damage, and to somewhat comfort himself.

The dwarves all winced empathetically, they might not get along with the Elves from generations ago, but they do share the knowledge of the agony he must be feeling now, and they stood still in fear as they watched him collapse to the ground; tears brimming in his eyes.

She turned to face the dwarves once again, a smirk of satisfaction clearly written on her features, “Where was I?” she wondered aloud.

Behind her, Legolas, apparently recovered from his brief injury, was crawling quietly on the floor to reach out for his daggers that were not far from him. His efforts were rewarded as he managed to clasp one of the closer of the two; he raised it in his hand, preparing to throw it at her when Kíli pointed out in alarm.

“Behind-!” She took her dagger that was resting in its sheath on her side and turned blindingly fast, throwing the blade at the elf’s arm and successfully pinning it by his tunic to the roots that were escaping the ground next to him. “-you.” The dwarf finished, his jaw dropping at her remarkable speed, and the elf’s eyes widened as he gaped at her

“Try that again, and the next one will be between yer eyes,” she warned him irritably, gesturing with her index finger as if chiding a child, she was about to turn around again when Legolas spoke up.

“Next time I’ll get you, Nari, I swear by it,” he meant it to be a threat, but somehow it did not come out that way to her as she simply smirked at him.

“Ye said that on our last encounter and look where we are again,” she gestured wildly with her hands to the open space around her, “Now, why don’t ye go home and cry to daddy about it, Princess?” she hissed at him.

He grunted and huffed as he gathered his weapons and left the dwarves and her, taking what dignity he may have left along with him. She picked up her dagger from the ground and returned it to its sheath.

“Who are you?” she swivelled around to find the dwarf with honey hair enquiring, still dazzled by the bravery he just witnessed, and she shook her head with a smile.

“Right-” she bowed down dramatically instead of curtseying as would be expected, “Nari, at yer service,” they hear a screech above their heads and flinched before relaxing as she made no movement, and the barn owl from earlier swooped down to the dwarf wearing the hat, she nestled herself onto it and made a satisfied screech and ruffled her feathers.

Some of the dwarves chuckled, others laughed, Nari included, while the dwarf in the hat yelled out, “Oi- yer a right cheeky thing ye are-” he waved his hands above his head to chase the owl away; she stayed where she was and nipped at the fingers that came too close to her, the largest dwarf with copper hair was nearly crying from laughter at the scene.

Nari made a brief whistle and the owl immediately pricked up and flew over to her handler, landing on her outstretched arm, “There’s a good girl,” she spoke softly and rubbed the owl’s face gently with two fingers, it chirruped enthusiastically and nipped softly at her fingers. She reached into a small pouch on her tights and pulled out a small pellet, she lifted it to the owl and it grabbed for it, swallowing it whole before nudging her handler’s cheek affectionately. “Ye’ve done well today my dear,”

There was a loud clearing of the throat from the leading dwarf, and she lowered her hand briefly from the owl before giving her attention to his piercing gaze. “And ye must Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór,” she rolled her free hand in front of her recalling the title from memory, and he tensed upon hearing his identity being known, “I have to tell ye, that’s a bit of a mouthful every time I’ve heard it, and this…” she briefly glanced to the rest of the dwarves surrounding him, “Must be the rest of yer company, and ye’re headed to Erebor, to reclaim the mountain?”

“You seem to know a lot about us, but we know nothing of you,” Thorin stepped forward, trying to intimidate her somewhat, though it clearly was having no effect on her as she remained where she stood, his eyes narrowed as he tried to make sense of anything about her.

“What Thorin means is, how come this information to you… Nari?” an older dwarf with snowy hair stepped forward, raising a hand slowly in front of Thorin, as if he would be able to prevent the dwarf King from racing forward and starting an unnecessary brawl.

“Well as the world would have it, whispers of a group of dwarves seen in the Shire turned to talk, talk became gossip in wildly inns of nearby villages, and gossip never misses the chance of meeting someone’s ears, even those not part of the conversation,” she explained with a shrug. It was the truth, for the most part.

Thorin shook his head in disbelief at the information, and cursed lowly in Khuzdul before speaking clearly, “Of course word spread from the Shire, Hobbits can’t seem to keep to themselves,” he growled.

“It was bound to happen Thorin, beings have eyes ye know,” the dwarf with the hat spoke up suddenly, he rested a hand on Thorin’s shoulder before removing it on the glare that he received, “And speaking of Hobbits, where is little Bilbo at?”

“We seemed to have lost our hobbit yet again; does anyone care to look for him?” Thorin asked the company, slightly annoyed, some of the others scanned the area around them and shrugged or raised the brows in confusion, and Bilbo seemed nowhere to be found.

Nari cleared her throat quietly and raised the arm with her owl still perched on it, “I also had Screech here to be my eyes and ears,” she admitted, “For some of yer journey at least,”

“Now how does an owl work as your eyes and ears?” the golden haired dwarf asked in wonder.

“Ye’d be surprised what we’re capable of,” she simply looked at him.

“Screech, what kind of name is that for an owl?” the younger dwarf, Kíli, asked from next to the dwarf with honey hair.

“A perfectly reasonable one considering that’s what she does,” Nari shot back confidently, “I was younger when I named her,” she stroked the owl’s head and she chirruped keenly. “And, I didn’t see any Hobbit when I was on my way here,” she informed them, “Also not to sound ungracious or anything, but a ‘thank ye’ would’ve been nice, I didn’t necessarily haveto stop and help ye out,”

Thorin huffed angrily, “We did not need your help-”

“Oh right, that’s why the elves had ye surrounded, were ye having a party then?” she asked sarcastically while staring him down.

“I do not care for your tone young lady-”

“Well let me assure ye, I’m no lady, and likewise yer Majesty,” she snapped back, “And I’m sure yer company are all exhausted from yer journey- I know a place where ye can stay for the night, eat some good food, sleep without having to watch over yer shoulders, and most importantly get yerselves a proper scrub down,”

The dwarf with snowy hair smiled warmly, seemingly grateful to the invitation, “What a wonderful offer-”

“How can we trust you, if we do not know you?” Thorin cut him off, not as willing to trust a complete stranger as his friend.

“Oh, don’t be such a stubborn dwarf, I’m offering ye help,” Nari crossed her arms irritably, making Screech flap her wings wildly as she lost her purchase, she flew behind them and settled on a low-hanging branch.

“Thorin please, a word?” the dwarf asked Thorin calmly, he nodded begrudgingly and they moved to the side lines and spoke quietly to each other, the leader sighed and faced her with a defeated expression.

“What is the catch?” he asked with a raised brow, as the offer seemed suspicious.

“Oh, no catch,” she waved her hand and Thorin seemed relieved momentarily, “However,” she paused, making him hold his breath, “I would request a favour for a favour,”

“A ‘favour’ would indeed be what one might call a catch, and if you are seeking gold-”

“Not gold, nor jewels, nor riches of any kind,” she assured him.

“Then what could you possibly be asking for?” his brows creased in a frown.

“Let’s just leave it at the fact that, it’s something so simple and possibly yet also, impossibly difficult to give,”

“Why must you women circle around the point of the conversation, and not just get right to it?” he muttered.

“Well, I do think that it’s best to discuss this when we reach our destination, the forest tends to have ears that listen in,” she glanced around, causing some of the other dwarves to do the same out of fear, “Screech isn’t the only trained animal out here,”

“Fine, then we shall take you on your offer, but if I so much as find cause to believe you intend us harm-”

“Alright, alright, enough with the speeches,” she raised her hand wanting him to stop talking, “Let’s get moving, we’re burning daylight,”

Thorin nodded begrudgingly before motioning his hand before him, “Lead the way, Nari.”

She nodded her head to an arched treeline that made for an entryway of sorts, and the dwarves hurriedly gathered their things before following diligently, Thorin leading them with his sword firmly in hand. It was not long before they reached a darker part of the forest, and they followed cautiously, becoming wary as the forest had already tricked their minds and could do so again.

Screech took to Nari’s shoulder and rubbed her head affectionately against the pierced and damaged ear; she simply chuckled and then spoke quietly to the creature, before sending it off ahead of them into the darkness.

She spoke almost impossibly soft in a language that sounded like Elvish but was somewhat more beautiful, perhaps ancient, as she walked ahead and the forest seemed to shift around them slightly. Thorin’s grip tightened on his Elven sword and some of the others tensed as well, and they stopped before a pathway leading to a quietly babbling brook that had not been there moments before.

The entrance tunnel was lined with toadstools and unfamiliar plants that were all glowing a faint blue, it seemed uninhabited from any other life; giant lily pads of deep purple bobbed ever so slightly on the surface of the stream, forming a makeshift stepping stone by their understanding.

She rested her hands on her waist and nodded to the tunnel, “So this is it,” she smiled and looked at them.

“Where does this lead to?” Thorin asked in suspicion, “How do we know you are not simply leading us further into the depths of Mirkwood?”

“If ye did not trust me, why would ye follow me?” she asked impatiently, “And I assure ye I would not dare to lead ye further into the Elven territories-”

“Thorin, please be reasonable,” the snowy haired dwarf begged.

“It’s hard to be reasonable when someone who clearly has elven blood is leading you through their territory,” he glared at his friend and gestured wildly to Nari.

“Ooh, ye dwarves can be so pig-headed-” she balled her fists and stepped forward towards Thorin.

He gritted his teeth, glaring at her, “Your kin stood by and watched mine, as they ran for their lives when that beast came down on us-”

“My kin had nothing to do with it! Whatever actions that were taken on by King Thranduil were followed by his guard, and by Durin’s beard I cannot believe ye would still be holding onto a grudge all these years later-”

“Aye, I do!” he stepped closer.

She matched his movements as the words spilled from their tongues, each becoming louder than the next, “Yer a stubborn-”

“Pretentious-”

“Daft-”

“Selfish-”

“Unruly-”

“Arrogant-”

“Move!” she gasped and shoved him to the side with wide eyes and he yelled out at her.

She removed her dagger from her side and swung it just in time to cast the arrow to the side, making it stick into the ground. The others turned around in alarm at the sudden attack, looking for their assailant.

“You Dwarves are always so loud,” the red-headed elf-maid appeared from the shadows behind the company and approached them; they dispersed to the sides of the clearing. “And what are you?” she eyed Nari and cocked her head slightly to the side, and she only glared at her in response. “No matter, you’ll have to answer to King Thranduil soon enough,”

“Ye’ll have to get through me if ye want to lay a hand on any of them,” Nari stepped forward, her dagger still in hand.

“That should be easy enough to do, half-breed,” she put her bow back into its sling and removed her own dagger from its sheath, stepping forward as well.

“Oh, I’m so hurt by yer words,” she mocked and placed a hand over her heart, “Whatever insults ye have to say I’ve heard ‘em all before, but forgive me, for thinking a lowly Silvan-elf would be clever enough to think on their own,”

Nari’s words seemed to have hit a sore spot as the elf-maid charged forward and made to stab her, but Nari was faster, and she elbowed the elf-maid’s arm that held the dagger in hand and caused her to lose her balance, and Nari moved her hand behind to grab at the long, loose hair on her head. She yanked at it, causing the elf-maid to drop her weapon and Nari held her own to her throat, holding her hair in a tight grip.

“Ye have such pretty hair dear, it’s a pity that I can use that against ye,” she pulled harder, making the elf-maid bend backwards in an awkward manner as, being an elf, she was much taller than Nari.

“No wait! Don’t hurt her!” Kíli ran forward, his hand reaching out to them.

“Ye are aware; she almost killed Thorin, right?” Nari asked, looking at him quizzically, the elf-maid stared at him, her expression softening upon meeting his eyes. She moved her blade a little further away, but still pulled her hair to hold her in place, seeing the worry in the young dwarf’s face.

“{Release Tauriel},” Legolas’s voice demanded from behind her, she immediately tensed and brought her attention back to the elf-maid in her grip.

“And if I don’t?” she asked, pressing the blade against the elf-maid’s throat once again, making her swallow uncomfortably.

“Then we’ll see to it that the dwarves are no longer standing,” he threatened, ensuring that he spoke in common tongue so that the dwarves understood as well, and she stole a glance to her surroundings, realising that each dwarf had at least two or more elves behind them awaiting orders, and the company gazed around uneasily.

“[Damn it],” she cursed in Khuzdul before dropping the dagger to the ground and releasing the elf-maid from her tight grip.

“Her first,” Legolas ordered, stopping an elf-maid that was preparing to cuff the dwarf with snowy hair, a smirk creeping into his features as he picked up her dagger from the ground.

“Well, that went well,” the dwarf with the hat quipped sarcastically as he and the others were handcuffed, and the elves shoved them along to get them moving slowly out of the clearing, the entrance disappeared from sight just as Legolas had noticed the unfamiliar path in the forest; he turned to Nari and lowered his head to meet her eyes.

“What was that?” he nodded his head to the area.

“None of yer damned business, Greenleaf,” she spat back.

“If you won’t talk, no matter, my father has wanted to meet the elusive Nari for years, he will be most pleased to see you,” he patted her cheek and stood tall once again. “{We walk},”

They trekked back through the forest, passing the clearing they had been in earlier, with Thorin being made to lead his companions to meet their fate with the Elven King of Mirkwood. Nari walked not too far behind him just behind the two younger dwarfs, and between the dwarf with snowy hair and a large balding dwarf.

The bald one was quite stoic in his manner, not looking anywhere but forward as he marched on, while his companion seemed to lose the optimistic hope he had had when Nari had offered them sanctuary, but he tried to muster a smile as she looked over at him.

She returned the smile, and raised a finger to her lips, he watched and frowned as she ducked her head slightly; removing a thick hair pin from her hair and turned her hands in the cuffs so that her palms faced the ground.

“[I may need someone to make a noise to distract the elves, but only on my signal],” she mumbled to the dwarves, Kíli and his companion turned their heads at this and smiled mischievously at each other, then glancing at her and nodded.

“What did she say to you?” one of the elves asked, having noticed their movements and getting a suspicious feeling from them.

“She was just describing how feminine all you Elves look,” said Kíli’s companion.

“Aye,” Kíli nodded with a smile, “And that you all probably wear lacy gowns during tea time,” he chuckled, making the elf snort and turn his attention ahead. He winked at her and Nari’s lip twitched in a smile with thanks.

She made quick to work at her handcuffs with the hair pin tightly gripped between her finger tips, and soon enough she felt the pin lock into the correct spot, she peered up to make sure the other elves were not watching, and caught the snowy haired dwarf glancing at her. He simply gave her an approving nod and smile, something about him was familiar and assuring, she nodded and turned her attention back ahead.

“[Now],” she said. Kíli took immediate action and stepped on his companion’s foot, making him yell out in pain, his companion shoved him in return with a glare.

“You big oaf, you stood on my foot!” he shook his cuffed fists in the air, “How would you like the favour returned?” he grabbed hold of Kíli by his front and in turn stomped on his foot.

“Hey! That hurt!” Kíli cried out louder than was necessary, had the snowy haired dwarf on her side not nudged her side gently Nari would have continued to watch the young dwarves perform in front of her, she focused her attention on her cuffs.

There was a sudden loud clink of metal unhinging, but thanks to the dwarves now causing a scene, it had gone unnoticed. Very few of the dwarves had caught the sound themselves, but they kept silent and pretended as if nothing odd had happened, unsure what she might do as she was now free.

____________________________________________________________

>> Previous Chapter (Prologue) << >> Next Chapter (2) <<

>> Chapter Index <<

1 note · View note