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hellodropbear · 3 days

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like she used to (III)

alexia putellas x sister chapter I, II

edited this in 25 minutes and now I am going to bed... but alexia debut in here today :)

~~~~~~

I sat in the back of the car as Ingrid drove Mapi and me to Johan the next morning. The car was silent, my eyes focussed out the window, hyperaware of the glances that both defenders threw back at me every so often.

Mapi is worried about me. That much I can tell, but I don't know why Ingrid, who I've barely spoken to, seems to think the world is coming to an end. She was in the room this morning when Mapi told me that Mami had called to say that she would see me there. I don't think the tension in the room was hard for the Norwegian to identify. Or it could have been Mapi's wide eyes staring at me that made her think something was wrong.

Alba is also coming to watch this game even though I told her I wouldn't be playing.

"you are part of the first team for the first time ever, hermanita! It is exciting just to watch you warm up."

I had rolled my eyes as she pulled me into a hug that day, but I appreciated it either way.

Ingrid led me to the changing rooms as Mapi made her way into the stands with some of the other injured players. My locker is beside Aitana's and she beams up at me when she spots me. I thank Ingrid quickly and make my over to Aitana and into her open arms.

"You ready?"

I nod, a smile on my face. For the first time in a long time, I do not think about my sister or what she would say, what her opinion would be. It is hard to grasp the idea that my dreams are maybe becoming a reality.

E. Putellas 29

It is a dream that I have had for a long time, to have my name on a blaugrana shirt, to be in this very position. It is something I have wanted since I could kick a ball, since I watched my sister do the same thing all those years ago.

They had asked me what name I wanted on the back of my jersey. Because Alexia just had her first name, I could take the last name without the E but Mami said to keep the E. I think she wanted me to just use my first name as well but that is for Alexia. I am only new to this, I thought.

I will not play today, Jonatan told me, but he said he wants me to be a sub in a game with lower pressure after I've spent a few games on the bench and trained with the team for more than a week.

Despite this, Mami and Alba are sat in the audience, between a bunch of relatives and family friends.

A red flush creeps onto my cheeks as I hear them all cheering when I run out of the tunnel to start the warm up. Aitana's arm is around my shoulders and she gives me an extra tight squeeze before winking at me and releasing me from her hold.

I know I will be sitting on the bench for the whole game but just warming up with the team is exciting. The cheering from the audience during the warm up is ten times louder than any crowd I've played in front of, even in the most stressful part of a match.

I try to shrug off the goosebumps that creep over my arms as I take in my surroundings. It is surreal and I think I am in a state of disbelief when Patri approaches me.

"You ok, pequena?"

"I'm good." I look at her as she places a hand on my shoulder. "This is just big."

"I get it. You are very young. You should be very proud of yourself, Elena. You a right, this is a big thing. A huge thing. We are all very proud, remember that."

She squeezes my shoulder before letting go.

"Now get to warming up, stop drifting off with the fairies!"

~~~~~~

It only took Barcelona 5 minutes to establish their dominance through an early Salma goal and by half time they were already up by 4 to 0.

The second half started and by the end of the match we were up by 8 with a decent scoreline of 9-1. Patri pulled me off the bench to go on the rounds to all the opposition and the fans. I have seen this happen so many times that it still feels surreal to be experiencing it.

"Where is your sister?"

Patri's whisper is meant to be harmless but her words are like ice water down my back and my stomach flips inside out. She continues when I shrug my shoulders.

"I saw her earlier with Olga, she's probably sat with the other injured girls."

At the mention of the girlfriend I have not met, I resist the urge to throw up, saying goodbye to Patri and heading over to where my family was in the stands.

My whole family tells me how proud they are and I think Mami takes about a thousand pictures of me and Alba and gets Alba to take some of me and her as well. I am grateful that she ignores Alexia's absence but that does not mean any of us are happy about it.

Mami is frustrated, angry maybe and that is evident in the way she scans the stadium every few minutes and shakes her head or releases disappointed sighs every once in a while.

Alba is sad and it is obvious because she makes no effort to hide the tears that brim in her eyes behind her smile. She tells me it is proud but I know when she looks longingly over to where Alexia should be standing beside me that she is just as upset as I am.

I am offended but I do my best to hide my emotions. I try to be as happy as I can because I am somewhat exhilarated from the experience despite sitting on the bench for the full 90 minutes.

Keira and Ona were being rested for the whole match and it turns out that Keira is hilarious and Ona can provide the best commentary on any match. They are a good pairing and I enjoyed making fun of Keira as she struggled to keep up with our (very slow) Spanish.

I am definitely looking forward to playing at some point. The thought makes me so incredibly nervous but I don't think there will be a better feeling than finally stepping out onto that field with my name on my back and representing my childhood club.

Mami holds me in her arms after she's satisfied with the pictures and I feel a tear drop onto my head.

"I am so proud of you, nina, you have made me proud from the day you were born and you will continue forever. This is just the start of everything. Papi is looking down on us right now with pride too, he's telling all his friends that you are his baby bear and that he taught you everything you know."

I sniffle in her arms.

"Thank you for everything you have done for me Mami, I would be nothing if not for you."

"Oh, hija, I love you."

"I love you too."

Alba throws herself into the hug and proclaims it is now a group hug. Mami chuckles and extends one of her arms around her.

"Mi hermanita is all grown up!" Alba cheers quietly so only me and Mami can hear. "15 years old and in the first team, a record?"

"Only a record when I leave the bench, Alba." I whack the back of her head with my hand and she recoils from the hug in mock annoyance.

"I should go, Mami, I'll meet you out the front?"

She nods and I kiss her cheek before wandering back to the changing rooms.

I am surprised when they are empty but the sound of the showers tells me that I will not be alone for long.

It is supposed to be a happy feeling, but I can not help but feel alone in this room, full of the belongings of people who are older than me, more experienced, skilled. People who know my sister better than I do.

People who will always look up to La Reina. Who will always hang off her every word.

I wish that was me still because if it was, I would not be alone in this locker room right now, I would be celebrating with my sister.

But she is nowhere to be found.

She didn't even say hello to me, she didn't say congratulations, she didn't even acknowledge my existence. It hurts me more than I care to admit, but maybe that is what she meant when she said I was weak.

I wipe the tears out of my eyes before they spill and it is good timing because a whole group of girls walk into the locker room at the same time that Ingrid and Frido return from their showers.

"Our pequena!" Marta cheers when she sees me in my cubby and paces over to pick me up. "You are one of us now, welcome to Barca!"

Everyone cheers and a big smile takes over my face as I am thrown amongst the group of people, being hugged and patted on the back, loud yells in Spanish bouncing round the room.

Aitana holds me for longer than everyone else and whispers her congratulations in my ear.

"You need a lift home today?"

I shake my head and smile.

"Mami and Alba are taking me out to dinner."

Aitana nods and begins talking about how exciting it is that I have finally been introduced to the first team and how I have grown up and I zone out and scan the room.

The loud chatter is a far cry from the near silence that engulfed the room five minutes ago.

I spot Mapi in the corner of the room speaking animatedly to Ingrid.

Frido is also there, laughing with Caro and Marta

Jana is beside Bruna, a giddy smile on her face as they chat to Esmee.

That can only mean one thing, Alexia is somewhere in here but I do not want to speak to her. I do not want to see her and I do not want her to see me. I excuse myself from Aitana to quickly grab my change of clothes and I go over to the showers, spending the longest possible time rinsing myself and washing my hair and an even longer time drying myself and getting changed.

I spend a humiliating amount of time in the stall but I do not hear anyone else come into the bathroom so I don't really think anyone had noticed.

If I had known what was been waiting for me when I opened the door of my stall I probably wouldn't have opened it.

Because the bleached blonde hair was the first thing I clocked, but her confidence oozed out of her as she leant against the wall, her arms crossed, her head resting against the blue paint like she was bored.

I don't say anything when I see her, trying my luck by just walking straight past her but her hand reaches out and stops me from leaving.

"No, Elena, don't run away from me."

"What do you want from me, Alexia?"

She let out an exhale and her features softened slightly. I look down at her feet, willing myself to not make eye contact.

"Why did I find out you had joined my team through a post on Instagram?"

I roll my eyes and shrug my shoulders, making an unintelligible sound that tells her that I do not know and I do not care. I try to leave again but she just stops me again.

"Why do I not know anything about you anymore? Why did Mapi find you in the middle of the park near her house last night when you should have been in bed like Mami thought?"

At least Mapi didn't say anything. I was worried, she is terrible at keeping secrets.

I just scoff because I don't know how else to react to the irony.

"Where is your girlfriend?"

She sighs.

"Olga is in the changing room with the others. You can meet her if you would like."

"I do not want to meet her."

"Then why did you ask?"

"I just wanted to confirm it wasn't just another one of Alba's rumours. You never told me."

I am proud that my voice doesn't falter, that it doesn't break. It is calm, level, despite the emotions that are raging inside of me.

"And whose fault is that?"

I roll my eyes but I avoid saying anything. She hesitated before continuing.

"We were best friends Elena, what even happened? Why did you stop talking to me, why did you start skipping our thursday night dinners?"

I scoff as she tries to make eye contact.

"I am not having this conversation now, Alexia. This is supposed to be a happy day but you are ruining it. You don't remember, that is the problem."

"I should be part of this day with you. I am your captain now."

I hold back a laugh.

"yes, captain, anything you say captain." I salute her weakly and turn around to leave, pushing past her outstretched arm.

Mapi looks at me cautiously as I walk back into the changing rooms but she is chatting with Olga and I do not want to have any interaction with her. I wave goodbye to her and Ingrid and say goodbye to a few of the others.

"What did she say?" Aitana had walked out with me and had apparently seen Alexia enter the showers earlier as well.

"That she is my captain now." I don't think I will ever forget her coldness.

"She is also your sister, Lena, she must be proud?"

If she is she has not shown it.

"She is my captain before she is my sister." My voice is monotone and I stare straight ahead of me. "Football always comes before family. It always has for Alexia."

Aitana shakes her head.

"It should not, it is not healthy."

I can't help but agree with the midfielder beside me.

~~~~~~

Dinner with Mami and Alba is nice, although I shouldn't have expected the topic of my oldest sister to be completely neglected the whole evening. Thankfully, she waits until we are all in the car driving home to bring it up.

"Your sister should have been there today, Elena." She makes eye contact with me through the rear view mirror and I look away.

"There are many things she should have done but didn't." I mumble quietly so Mami can't hear me, but Alba does and she looks back at me weirdly.

"Alexia said she was going to talk to you, she told us how proud she was and I said that you would want to hear her say it to you."

"She's... proud of me?" My voice is soft and I can see my mother's eyebrows furrow in the mirror.

"Of course she is, you are her baby sister and you have just joined her team. She was upset that you didn't tell her and I don't think she really understood why but, Lena, she was practically crying. She is a very proud big sister. I told her to come with us tonight and she seemed keen, said she would meet you in the changerooms and come out with you."

"Why does she tell you all this but when she talks to me she is so cold?" My voice is barely a whisper yet both Mami and Alba hear me loud and clear.

"She went to meet you in the dressing room, she was excited for you to meet Olga and Olga was excited as well. What did she say to you?" Mami frowns, her eyes flickering over to Alba who also had creases in her forehead.

I shrug.

"She asked me why I didn't tell her that I had joined, why she doesn't know anything about my life anymore. She said she was my captain, she should be part of my life. I think she meant my football life, not my actual one."

"What makes you say that?" Alba is the one who speaks because Mami looks devastated.

I look around dramatically. "If she wanted to be part of my actual life she would be here right now, no?"

Alba runs her hands over her face in frustration but I don't think she is frustrated at me. Just the situation. I think it has upset Alba more than anyone else and I feel guilty.

"Sorry."

"No, hermanita, this is not your fault, I just don't understand what is going through Alexia's head."

"It's ok, Alba, Mami. I don't mind. Really, I don't."

Mami just shakes her head. She is not happy and she clearly does mind.

"No, you and your sister need to sort this out, pequena, I simply cannot stand it any more. You will be home for dinner this Thursday and you will talk about it."

"But I have train-" I am interrupted.

"No you do not, you are not playing with the B team at the moment, don't be ridiculous. You will be there and we will discuss it then. We also need to discuss what we are going to do about your school."

I groan, although the change in topic is appreciated.

"Mami! I don't want to have to go back to school because I'd rather do this." She sighs and I roll my eyes.

"La Masia has made an arrangement that will allow you to continue your classes there but your days will be rearranged. You will go to training with the first team until 2, then you will go over to La Masia and do your school classes with your peers there. They will get you a tutor to study with you in the evenings when training usually is to make up for the school you missed in the morning."

Unfortunately, Mami has always been adamant that we get a good education despite mine and Alexia's obsessions with football.

I was quick to get out of the car when we arrived home, having dropped Alba off at her apartment on the way back. I went up to my room quickly, changing into my pajamas and heading to bed quite quickly.

Mami called out to tell me that she was going to see Alexia before bed, so I sat on my phone for a while, the doors locked and my lights switched off.

But my phone was plugged in and my eyes were closed when a soft fist hit my door twice. Thinking it was just mami, I called for her to enter.

But when I registered that bleach blonde hair for the second time that day, all I felt was regret.

"I am tired, Alexia. Please, just let me sleep."

"Elena, please." I hadn't noticed the tears that dripped down her face, the slump in her usual perfect posture. Her voice cracked when she said my name. "I miss you."

"Alexia. It has been a long day, I am tired, I want to sleep. Please, Alexia. Let me sleep." I am acting immature but I am tired, and I don't want to have this conversation now.

She let out a soft exhale, stepping towards me and placing a kiss on the side of my head that is exposed to the air.

I try to ignore the warm shivers it sends down my spine, it has been so long since she did that; since she did something she used to do every night.

She walks slowly back to the door, stopping as she reaches it and resting her hand on the door handle.

"Mami says you don't think I am proud of you. It is not true. I am so proud of you and I love you, pequena. But I don't think you need me anymore, I think you're fine without me. I am sorry, Elena. I am sorry for not being there for you when I should have been, but I will take a step back. I am so proud of you."

She pushed down the door handle and was gone just as quickly as she came and I resisted the urge to call out and tell her she had got it all wrong. I want her to take a step forward, she has already taken a step back. She has already taken 50 steps back.

I need her. More than anything.

But I can't rely on her. I can not be weak in front of her.

I am a Putellas. I can not be weak.

She has to be right. I am fine without her.

~~~~~~

She is still home when I walk downstairs in the morning, her eyes puffy and hair a mess as she sits on the kitchen table with a coffee. My sigh alerts her to my presence but I turn my back on her as soon as I enter the kitchen.

"Elena, please." I don't know how I changed my sister from a leader to a beggar, but today is not the day to ask when that happened.

I pour myself a bowl of cereal silently and head straight back upstairs, locking my bedroom door and eating my breakfast before sitting down on the piano stall, my fingers immediately jumping onto the keys, improvising and experimenting with new notes, chords and rhythms.

I don't know what Mami said to Alexia when she visited last night, but to be quite honest I don't want to know. I just need to keep being ok without my older sister, no matter how much I miss her. She said I should be fine without her, so I will be.

For some reason, I neglect to consider the other words she said.

"I miss you."

"I am so proud of you."

"I love you."

I think I ignore those statements because I can't seem to grasp their validity. If she missed me, she would have seen me; she would have come to my games. If she was proud of me I would already know, she would have told me like Mami had, like Alba had. Like everyone else who is proud of me has.

If she loved me... If she loved me she would be my older sister again.

I miss her, I am proud of her and I love her. It is true and I have never once doubted those emotions.

But it feels like she is just saying what she wants me to hear. What Mami said that she should say to me. I don't think she actually means it.

How could someone who loves me tell me that I am weak?

How could someone who is proud of me tell me that she doesn't want me to achieve my dreams, that she never wants to share a shirt because I am haven't had to work for it?

I don't understand how it could be true, both things at the same time.

I curse at the tear that spills out of my eye, rubbing it away aggressively and shaking my head at myself. No. I can not be weak. Not today, not ever.

My sisters words from today, from yesterday, from three years ago spin in my mind and my fingers become more and more aggressive on the keys of my piano, my song increasing in intensity; reflecting my emotions in the only way I know how. The keys are my home, the notes are my head and the song is my heart.

Though sometimes the song sounds broken, like right now when there is so much going on. So many chords, rhythms. Increasing speed, increasing volume. My fingers moving at a million miles an hour, barely hitting one key before moving to the next.

There is so much going on that it is overwhelming, so much going on that it could just explode. Into a million pieces. So many pieces that it would be futile to even try and put them back together.

It does that sometimes, and I have to fall back down to the softness and calmness of the easy rhythms, easily sailing away from the broken song like it never even existed.

But it always existed, and it's remains will always be there at the bottom of the sea, haunting me, threatening to re-emerge.

I realise I have been grieving my sister like she has died. I grieve the death of our relationship and how it has changed so quickly and so aggressively. I miss her more than anything, but the thought of what it used to be is overwhelming, it fills me with dread, with complete sadness.

Those notes that exploded so long ago, still lying dormant somewhere, never gone, never forgotten. There are so many of them, I just wish she would help me pick them up.

My song has already exploded, so I resort to playing soft chords, tears now spilling from my eyes in a continuous stream. There are too many to wipe away and I know that my eyes will be red and my cheeks puffy when I eventually do. I have lost my sister in a way that is almost impossible to comprehend.

Because Alexia isn't dead, and somehow that makes her distance so much harder to understand, so much more hurtful.

She isn't dead, she has just decided she does not want to be a part of my life any more.

The song comes to a conclusion, and my fingers rest on the keys, my eyes staring ahead at the empty stand in front of me, trying their very best to not slip upwards towards the picture that I know hangs directly above it.

The picture of me and my family the day I was born, held in Alexia's arms as Alba tried her best to share me, both of them sitting beside Mami in bed as Papi watched on with a proud smile.

I would go back to that day in an instant if I was given the opportunity.

~~~~~~

I don't go back downstairs until I hear the front door close and Alexia's car drive away. I give it a few minutes before I actually leave the safe haven that my bedroom has become, ignoring Mami's watchful eyes as I slump onto the sofa, using the remote to switch on the tv.

I only watch it for five minutes before my mother switches it off, standing by the door and looking directly at me.

"She is confused, Elena. She doesn't know why this has all happened but she is angry with herself for not being there for you more."

I roll my eyes. Of course she doesn't remember.

"Maybe she should use her brain. Maybe she should just think."

Mami shakes her head at me, it could be in frustration, maybe disappointment. I still do not look at her.

"Maybe you could just talk to her! She doesn't know how to love you when you won't let her. She wanted you to meet Olga yesterday, but you left. She wanted to speak to you last night or this morning but you ignored her."

"But Mami, it is not my fault! It should not be up to me to fix what she has broken."

"She is trying, Elena, and at the moment that is what matters. This just can not go on, you are in the same family, the same football team! Mapi spoke to me yesterday, you know. She was practically crying, Elena, it's effecting even her."

"I never should have opened my mouth to her. Now she has involved herself in something that is not her business." My voice is poisonous and my words aggressive. I know Mapi would be heartbroken if she could hear this, she always has tried so hard to do what is best. Especially when it was about me.

I love Mapi, I always have. She never thought I did because I never gravitated towards her at training when I was little, but that was just because I thought she was another sister - she was like Alexia, always around.

When I was 11, maybe, I didn't realise how upset she got about me 'not liking her', and I had made a joke about never hanging around with Mapi. It was when she left the room that Alexia pulled me to the side harshly.

"Even if you don't like her, Elena, you have to pretend! She is my best friend and she loves you so much."

I remember looking at her with my mouth agape - I love Mapi, I always did. I was confused, it was a meaningless joke - a version of a joke I made all the time to Alexia.

Alexia didn't need to tell me to go talk to her, but I didn't know what to say when I walked out the door and found her sitting down with her back to the wall, tears pouring down her face. I explained everything and she apologised for being dramatic.

Since then, we have gotten along well and I have tried to spend time with her when I can.

It has been harder in the last couple years when I have fallen out with Alexia. They are best friends, I don't want to get in the way of that.

Mami's anger brings me right back to reality.

"That is enough, Elena! Maria only wants to help, but she can't, nobody can do anything except you and Alexia."

I resist rolling my eyes, instead releasing a huff of air.

"I'll think about it."

My arms are folded and I turn back towards the blank screen, ignoring the way Mami sighs and walks away.

It is only when I hear her door close that I let my angry facade crumble, my body shaking as I resist the tears.

I need to stop crying.

Alexia thinks I am strong enough to do everything by myself.

I need to prove to her that I can.

Maybe then she will tell me she is proud of me.

~~~~~~

this is pretty much all the prewritten stuff i have, will write more soon once my exams are done

let me know if there's anything you want to see in the next parts

#woso fanfics #woso #woso imagine #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #putellas reader #fcb femení #barca femeni

341 notes · View notes

estapa-edwards · 2 days

Note

"Team Sweetheart" and "Physical Therapist" are so gorgeous I've reread them both like 10 times! They leave me so full of butterflies I am positively buzzing! May I please make a request with Jack and a girl who has no knowledge/familiarity with hockey, or any sports for that matter? Maybe just them introducing eachother to their interests/worlds as their relationship develops and it's just nice to be with someone a bit removed from what Jack's life is centered around. Idk if that makes sense please ignore this if you don't like it.

CONNECTION - J . HUGHES

paring: Jack Hughes x reader

word count: 2k

requested? yes

warnings: use of y/n.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

Jack Hughes walked into the quiet café, eager for a break from the relentless pace of his hockey-centered life. The New Jersey Devils had been having a grueling season, and every moment off the ice felt like a precious escape. The café, tucked away in a corner of downtown Newark, had become his haven. Today, however, he was greeted by an unfamiliar face behind the counter.

“Hi, welcome to Brewed Awakening. What can I get you?” the girl asked with a warm smile. Her name tag read "Y/N."

Jack glanced at the menu, though he already knew what he wanted. “I’ll have a black coffee, please.”

Y/N nodded, her fingers flying over the buttons of the register. “Coming right up. Are you from around here?”

Jack hesitated. Despite his growing fame, he still enjoyed the anonymity of casual encounters. “Yeah, I live nearby. What about you?”

Y/N handed him his change and started preparing his coffee. “I just moved here for school. Trying to get the hang of the city and all.”

Jack smiled. “It’s a great place once you get to know it. What are you studying?”

“Art history. I know, it’s not exactly the most practical major, but it’s my passion,” she said with a slight laugh. “What about you? What do you do?”

Jack paused, unsure of how to respond. “I’m... in sports,” he said vaguely.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his hesitation. “Any particular sport?”

“Hockey,” he admitted. “I play for the New Jersey Devils.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “Oh, wow. I’m sorry, I don’t really follow sports. But that sounds impressive!”

Jack chuckled. “That’s okay. It’s actually kind of refreshing to meet someone who isn’t obsessed with hockey.”

Y/N handed him his coffee. “Well, I’m glad I could provide a break from the norm. Enjoy your coffee!”

As Jack took a seat by the window, he couldn’t help but feel a spark of curiosity about Y/N. She was different from anyone he had met in a long time. He found himself looking forward to his next visit to the café.

--- --- ---

Over the next few weeks, Jack found himself returning to Brewed Awakening more often. Each time, he and Y/N would chat for a few minutes, their conversations growing more personal with each encounter. Jack learned that Y/N was passionate about art, spending her weekends exploring museums and galleries. She, in turn, learned about Jack’s rigorous training schedule and the pressures of professional sports.

One rainy afternoon, Jack entered the café, drenched from practice. Y/N greeted him with a sympathetic smile. “Rough day?”

“Just a long one,” he replied, shaking off his wet jacket. “Do you have a break coming up? I’d love to hear more about this art thing you’re always talking about.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up. “Actually, I do. Give me five minutes to finish up here.”

A few minutes later, Y/N joined Jack at his table, a steaming cup of tea in her hands. “So, where should I start?”

“Tell me about your favorite artist,” Jack suggested, genuinely curious.

Y/N’s face brightened. “That’s a tough one, but I’d have to say Vincent van Gogh. His work is so emotional and raw. There’s something incredibly moving about the way he saw the world.”

Jack listened intently as Y/N described van Gogh’s turbulent life and vibrant paintings. He found himself captivated by her passion and the way she brought the art to life with her words.

“You should come to the museum with me sometime,” Y/N said, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “I think you’d really enjoy it.”

Jack smiled. “I’d like that. And maybe I can take you to a hockey game in return?”

Y/N laughed. “Deal. But you’ll have to explain everything to me. I know absolutely nothing about hockey.”

Jack chuckled. “I think I can manage that.”

--- --- ---

Their first outing together was to the Newark Museum of Art. Jack was out of his element but excited to see the world through Y/N’s eyes. As they wandered through the galleries, Y/N explained the stories behind the paintings and sculptures, her voice filled with excitement and admiration.

“This is one of my favorites,” she said, stopping in front of a large, colorful painting. “It’s called ‘Starry Night Over the Rhône’ by van Gogh. Look at the way the stars and the reflections in the water create this almost dreamlike scene.”

Jack stared at the painting, trying to see it the way Y/N did. “It’s beautiful,” he said finally. “I can see why you like it so much.”

Y/N smiled. “I’m glad you think so. Art has always been a way for me to escape, to see the world differently.”

Jack nodded, understanding more than he expected. “Hockey is like that for me. When I’m on the ice, everything else fades away.”

A few days later, it was Y/N’s turn to step into Jack’s world. She had agreed to attend one of his games, despite her lack of knowledge about hockey. Jack had arranged for her to have a prime seat, and as she settled in, she couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness.

The arena was buzzing with energy, fans cheering and waving signs. Y/N watched in awe as the players took to the ice, their speed and skill mesmerizing. She spotted Jack, his focus intense as he prepared for the game.

Throughout the match, Y/N found herself on the edge of her seat, cheering along with the crowd even though she didn’t fully understand the rules. She couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride every time Jack made a play, his talent and dedication evident in every move.

After the game, Jack met her outside the locker room, still in his gear and grinning from ear to ear. “So, what did you think?”

“It was amazing!” Y/N exclaimed. “I had no idea hockey could be so intense. You were incredible out there.”

Jack laughed, relieved that she had enjoyed herself. “I’m glad you liked it. Maybe we can make a fan out of you yet.”

Y/N smiled. “Maybe. But only if you keep coming to art galleries with me.”

“Deal,” Jack agreed, feeling a warmth spread through him. Despite their different worlds, he felt a connection with Y/N that he hadn’t felt with anyone else.

--- --- ---

As the weeks turned into months, Jack and Y/N grew closer, finding comfort in their contrasting interests. They delighted in introducing each other to new experiences, each outing deepening their bond.

One sunny Saturday, Jack found himself at a local art supply store with Y/N. She was on a mission to find the perfect set of watercolors for a new project. Jack followed her through the aisles, amused by her enthusiasm.

"Do you paint?" Jack asked, curious.

"I dabble," Y/N replied with a grin. "Mostly for fun, though. It’s a great way to relax and let my mind wander."

Jack picked up a brush, twirling it between his fingers. "Maybe you could teach me sometime. I’ve never really done anything like this."

Y/N’s eyes lit up. "I’d love to! It’s really not about being perfect, just about expressing yourself."

A few days later, Y/N set up a makeshift studio in her apartment, covering the table with newspapers and setting out a variety of paints and brushes. Jack arrived, looking both excited and apprehensive.

"Ready to become the next Van Gogh?" Y/N teased, handing him a canvas.

Jack laughed. "I think that might be a stretch, but I’m ready to give it a shot."

As they painted side by side, Y/N offered gentle guidance, encouraging Jack to experiment with colors and shapes. Despite his initial uncertainty, Jack found himself enjoying the process. It was a welcome change from the structured, high-pressure world of hockey.

"You’re a natural," Y/N said, admiring Jack’s painting of a snowy landscape.

Jack shook his head with a chuckle. "I think you’re just being nice, but thanks. This is actually really fun."

Y/N smiled, pleased to see Jack so relaxed. "See? I knew you’d enjoy it."

Their relationship continued to flourish, each new experience bringing them closer together. Jack took Y/N to more games, patiently explaining the rules and strategies. Y/N, in turn, took Jack to more art exhibits and even a few art classes.

One evening, after a particularly thrilling game, Jack and Y/N found themselves at a quiet diner, sharing a plate of fries. Jack looked at Y/N, feeling a surge of gratitude.

"You know, I never thought I’d enjoy learning about art so much," Jack admitted. "But being with you has opened my eyes to so many new things."

Y/N reached across the table, squeezing his hand. "And I never thought I’d enjoy sports, but you’ve made it so much fun. It’s nice to have someone to share these experiences with."

Jack smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment. Despite their different backgrounds, they had found a way to connect on a profound level. It was a rare and precious thing, and Jack knew he wanted to hold onto it.

--- --- ---

As their relationship grew stronger, Jack and Y/N began to face the challenges that came with their differing worlds. Jack’s demanding schedule often kept them apart, and Y/N’s art exhibitions sometimes took her to different cities.

One evening, after a particularly grueling week of practice and games, Jack called Y/N, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "I miss you," he admitted. "It feels like we haven’t seen each other in ages."

Y/N sighed, feeling the distance keenly. "I miss you too. It’s hard, but we’ll get through it. How about we plan something special for next weekend? Just us."

Jack’s spirits lifted at the thought. "That sounds perfect. Let’s go somewhere quiet, away from everything."

The following weekend, they escaped to a cabin in the woods, a peaceful retreat where they could unwind and reconnect. They spent their days hiking through the forest, cooking meals together, and sitting by the fire, talking about everything and nothing.

One evening, as they sat on the porch, watching the sunset, Jack took Y/N’s hand. "I’m really glad we’re doing this," he said softly. "It’s exactly what I needed."

Y/N rested her head on his shoulder. "Me too. It’s nice to just be us, without all the noise."

As they sat in comfortable silence, Jack realized how much Y/N meant to him. She had become his anchor, a source of joy and calm in his hectic life. He knew their relationship wasn’t always easy, but he was willing to face any challenge as long as they were together.

With the hockey season winding down, Jack finally had more time to spend with Y/N. They began to talk about their future, their conversations filled with excitement and hope.

One sunny afternoon, they found themselves at a local park, lying on a blanket and watching the clouds drift by. Jack turned to Y/N, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Have you ever thought about what comes next for us?" he asked.

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with affection. "I think about it all the time. I want us to keep exploring new things together, to keep supporting each other’s passions."

Jack nodded, feeling a sense of certainty. "I want that too. And I want you to know that I’m here for you, no matter what. Your dreams are just as important as mine."

Y/N reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Jack’s face. "And I’m here for you, always. We’ll figure it out together."

As they lay there, hand in hand, Jack knew they were embarking on a new chapter of their lives. It wouldn’t always be easy, but with Y/N by his side, he felt ready for anything. They had built a strong foundation, one based on mutual respect and a genuine love for each other’s worlds. And as they looked towards the future, they knew that together, they could face whatever came their way.

#hockey #nhl x reader #new jersey devils #nj devils #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes blurb

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thesilmarillionblog · 2 days

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𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part: 8

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: heavy angst, hurt , language, PTSD, mention of drugs, mention of torture

Word Count: 4538

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

You asked Ben again, “What did you do to those people?” while he continued to look at your furious and angered look.

He avoided watching the news and simply replied in a dry voice, “I didn't mean to hurt them. Everything happened so quickly.”

Despite your hopes that, after all this time, he would change a little, you came to the conclusion that his appearance was the only thing that had changed. He was the same guy who hurt everyone around him like they were just insects, never thinking twice about it. He remained the same merciless man who just cared about himself.

You were too ignorant to believe that it was Crimson Countess had drastically changed him, but this was simply another lie you told yourself in defense of Ben's behavior. It was just who he really was.

You talked softly while Butcher continued to watch TV, “How can you even stay the same after all the things that happened to you?”

“I killed the doctor who hurt and tortured you. You already knew; whatever I did for him, he deserved it,” he angrily said, gesturing to you as though he were doing you a favor and somehow trying to convince you.

“Should I feel like a graduate and thank you?” You questioned him bitterly, glaring at him. “You are the reason I spent decades being imprisoned and subjected to torture in vain. You are the reason I am currently homeless and the state's number two foe. How come you're still so blind and self-centered?”

Ben grumbled, “Calm down, baby,” ignoring your inquiries as he roughly grabbed the remote control out of Butcher's hand and flicked through the channels. “We can talk about things at a later time. For now, take a moment to rest.”

Ben continued to stare at the TV and shifted on the couch in an attempt to make himself more comfortable, so you replied, “Don't call me 'baby.'”

“It looks like Tony Montana is going to bed alone tonight.” With a cunning grin, Butcher attempted to reclaim the remote control from Ben's grasp. “Also, don’t be dramatic and so upset, you have a place to stay, you’re not homeless.”

“Tony Montana—who the fuck is he?” Ben muttered, pushing Butcher's hands a little too hard while refusing to give up the remote control. “I’m in charge in here. What I watch, you'll watch too.”

“Hey, you remember our deal, don't you? I'm hoping you won't back down.”

You turned to Butcher and questioned, “What deal?” with a confused gaze on your face when he suddenly started speaking in a serious and mysterious tone.

Ben stepped in immediately and shot Butcher a quick glance, saying, “It's not so important.”

“All right, there's nothing to worry about. Your teammate just promised me that he would help me kill a cunt named Homelander.”

Ben kept shooting Butcher with a deadly look as he immediately spilled the beans.

“I'm not worried about anything,” you cut Butcher off abruptly, averting Ben's tough stare. “Whatever he's up to, he's alone in this. But tell me, what’s deal about.”

“Sweetheart, I don't need your help anyway. You simply stay at home and take care of things while you chill,” Ben said in an amused way, attempting to hide his tiny sense of hurt that came from your coldness.

He didn't intend to include anything that would distress you further, but he couldn't stop remembering the times you supported and fought alongside him. He would never ask you to get involved in the Homelander situation, though, since he knows you've already been through a lot of terrible things. He was also too proud to accept your assistance.

Turning to face you, Butcher added, “You don’t have to be so ruthless. He made the deal to get help from me to save you.”

Butcher believed that, given Homelander's strength, helping him would be beneficial and that it would be great if you would just soften and offer a helping hand. Butcher knew Soldier Boy would be happy to let you fight alongside him, as he was aware that he took your suit from Legend. You were once the strongest superwoman, after all, and he would have a better chance of finally killing Homelander.

Hughie, thankfully, returned to join you with a meal in his hands before you could ask Butcher any more questions. You were so hungry that you didn't even realize it until you smelled pizza. It was all about pleasure, yet even if you starved for decades, you wouldn't die.

Hughie smiled hesitantly and said, “Sorry, I didn't ask you before ordering, but I hope you're okay with pizza.” It's likely that he was the only decent person in the room. You wondered why this person was willing to work with a man like Butcher. He gave off an air of deception.

“Of course it's okay,” you said as soon as you smelled it. You then gave him a graditude look and said, “Thanks a lot.”

Ben quickly got up, tossed the remote control in Butcher's face, and grabbed the pizza from Hughie's hands as he sat next to you before you could move. Ben stepped closer, spreading his legs a little and making contact with your thighs, but you put some distance between you two right away. You didn’t understand why he was acting like that out of the blue, but you didn’t ask anything.

None of you spoke, even though you felt Ben's gaze briefly lingering on you. Although you were unsure of what Ben truly wanted from you, you were determined to learn from your past mistakes. Therefore, it was best to clarify it for him as well.

Upon seeing Noir's visual on TV, you exclaimed in shock, “Is Noir still working for Vought?”

That was the moment you understood. Earving never came to save you. If he just wanted to, you knew he could and would find you. You could understand why he might not have wanted to take the risk of going through the same things with you if he had a legitimate reason for not saving you. You had no right to be selfish. However, you were certain that you would behave differently if he were in your place. You therefore couldn't help but feel a little let down.

Ben angrily remarked, “Of course he does,” as he watched you devour the pizza. “He wouldn't even take his shit without the permission of Vought. Fucking traitor. He didn't even give a fuck about the things you went through all those years. I had no doubts that he was going to abuse your friendship. There was always something sneaky about him.”

You couldn’t left out a small hiss as Ben started to talk about loyalty.

“All right,” you replied, casting him a piercing glance. “I got used to being betrayed.”

He aggressively exclaimed, “Don't compare me with that son of a bitch,” and launched into a self-defense tirade. “I came to save you too as soon as I was free, and I looked for you everywhere.”

“How could I ever compare you with him while I know you are worse. And yes, Ben, you're quite considerate to have searched me in the Countess' home. Many thanks for it.”

“I payed a visit to her because I knew she was most probably the one tricked you. It was nothing else.”

“Whatever,” you said back harshly. “I don’t care anyways.”

Butcher interrupted you after making a brief phone call in the kitchen, saying, “Listen here, Bonnie and Clyde. Hughie and I need to get out and meet some buddies, but if you're not going to make trouble and if you don't want to fuck in peace all night, it's best if you don't stay at home. In every other case of emergency, you need to join us.”

You hurriedly swallowed the large slice of pizza and gasped, “We won't... I mean, we wouldn't,” to Butcher. Your cheeks flushed. “It's not like we're together or anything, so don't misinterpret and talk like this, please.”

Ben leaned back to the coach and said, “Well, I'm all in, baby,” pleased to see you flushed and in a panic. “Keep in mind that. Since I'm free, I didn't even fucking jerk off once. You can use me however you like,” he stated, stretching his legs and making an attempt to brush against you briefly while grinning genuinely and invitingly.

You grumbled, “I'm trying to enjoy my meal here,” ignoring the absolute filth that was flowing from his mouth.

“All right, that's OK.” Butcher urged you to complete your dinner, saying, “You can continue eating where we go. We must leave in five minutes.”

Ben growled, “Don't fucking order her around.”

“It's fine,” you stopped eating right away. “Where we're going to go?”

“We have to get some Temp-V from Hughie's friend. It appears that we will need to use it soon,” Butcher replied, glancing at Ben. “Unfortunately, you can't beat Homeland with just one guy.”

Ben did not even respond to Butcher's crap; he only rolled his eyes. He was aware that Homelander would be the easiest to take down. He was Soldier Boy, and someone of Butcher's age wouldn't fully get who he was.

You and Ben were seated in the back of Butcher's car, and Ben was covering the whole place almost as if he wanted you to lean into his body. He was always on the move, both his hands and his legs, and occasionally you would think he looked a bit bashful if you didn't know just how arrogant he really was. Somehow, you sensed the uncertainty, but you didn't look him up or ask him questions.

You couldn't help but feel confused and depressed as you gazed out of the car window at the enormous, gleaming structures. You no longer felt like you belonged in the world because so many years had passed in a tiny little cage. It seemed as though no one knew you, cared about you, or you had no place to stay. It's not your world, but rather other people's, that you see when you peek out the window.

You said, “Everything looks so different,” as a sense of melancholy took over you.

“Not at all,” Ben remarked in an arrogant tone, as if he had figured out everything in a single day. “I've learned many things; I will teach you all; don't worry.”

You challenged him, casting him a skeptical glance. “What do you know?”

“Well, I might teach you a thing or two because you're too eager to learn. For instance, GPS and the Internet were quite helpful in helping us learn about you and the place you were kept,” he added with pride as he smiled at you and waited for your reaction.

You whispered, “You're just making those words up,” unsure if he was trying to trick you.

“Those words are real words. I had said the same to that fuckface; believe me, sweetheart,” he continued, giving Hughie a harsh shoulder pat. “Hand over your damn android phone to me.”

Hughie murmured in distress, “Oh, God,” as Butcher nodded awkwardly and gave him an odd look. “Just don’t break it or something, please.”

Hughie handed his phone reluctantly to Ben, who took it with a swift move, and Ben used it like a pro, tapping the screen quickly. When he wrote down his name and yours on the screen called 'Google', your eyes widened open as you saw a ton of images and details about the two of you, Payback, and everything else.

Captivated by what Ben showed you, you muttered, “Everything about us is written down there.”

“See,” he declared with pride, chuckling at your bewildered response. “I told you I was very well-informed. The name of this one is Internet.”

You challenged him again, interested in learning more about this small device, which seemed to know a lot of things. The modern world is unquestionably something else, with easy access to knowledge at any time and about any subject matter.

“I am familiar with social media. If you don't want to be identified by your real identity, you can put up a fake profile and follow anybody you want. I made one for the two of us as well.” Ben responded, seeming proud of everything he had achieved with a cunning smile on his face.

You pretended to understand everything he said as you asked, “And what's your fake name?”

“It’s ‘soldierboyy/n69.' Pretty creative, isn't it?”

“Oh my gosh, Ben,” you said, pushing the phone and his hands in an annoyed tone as your face turned red. “Everyone will know that it is you. I shall be accused of having once again supported your actions if they find out the identity of your account. Why do you act so carelessly?”

“Everyone has those fake names,” Ben said, grimacing at how much you disapproved of what he had done. Nobody will find out because I'm not using it anyway."

He intended to show you that he never thought of himself apart from you and that he thought of you even while he was setting up the account, but all he managed was to distress and upset you once more. Observing your defensively crossed arms on your chest, he sighed and moved his strong arms to your seat in an attempt to get close to you.

“How are you so sure?” you asked as he handed over the phone to Hughie in a rude manner.

“Because that's the way the modern world works, sweetheart. Nothing and anyone are real when it comes to Internet.”

“Indeed,” Butcher said, glancing at the two of you through the mirror. “He is right; no one will find out. It's not really a big deal; trust me, if it were, I would have problems as well because of him.”

You cut it short, closing your eyes and lowering your head to the seat. “Okay,” you mumbled.

It was as though some odd numbness overcame your body, leaving you exhausted and unbalanced even after decades of sleep. It was most likely due to the quantity of sleep that your body became accustomed to, and it's also possible that you were experiencing a side effect from what you experienced in the lab. Nonetheless, it didn't concern you because you knew you still had your strength. You only needed to get a bit more rest. As you closed your eyes to give your body a break until you got there, you inhaled deeply.

You slowly opened your eyes, feeling Ben's gentle touch on your cheek, and heard him say, “You really turned into sleeping beauty, didn't you?” in a lighthearted manner.

“Have we arrived?” you muttered as you opened your eyes and noticed his intense gaze on you. The moment Butcher and Hughie slammed the car door, you immediately fully came to your senses.

Ben nodded, confused, not knowing how to react to your coldness as you gently moved his hands away from your face.

Ben and you had just followed Butcher and Hughie to the small, slightly desolate house. You looked around the room, and the other two women, who were glancing at you warily, exchanged glances. You could tell they were supes, just like you, from the whiff of Comp-V in their scents. You were a little nervous because you had no idea what their intentions were toward you. You had no friends or someone to rely on anymore, and you were a stranger to everything after all.

“Ladies, how are you doing here?” Butcher grabbed a glass of whiskey from the kitchen and inquired as he sat down right away on the closest couch.

“I can't believe you and you especially you Hughie,” the blonde remarked angrily. “You two really set them both free, and you forced me to take so much Temp-V; we're going to be caught. It's only a matter of time.”

“So you're the supe woman that bottom-faced guy pounding?” Ben aggressively exclaimed, pushing the short-haired man to the right while he snatched a cola from the refrigerator. “And the one who works for Vought when you're not getting off and doing other things.”

“Stop it, Ben,” you said in a warned tone as his abrupt aggression caused the air to thicken.

“Why don't we just sit down and have a nice chat?” Hughie looked at you anxiously, as if you wanted to soothe Ben before anything happened.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he said, flashing you a cunning grin when he spotted you approaching him, and you gave him a cold look while he sipped his coke in joy.

“Well, Annie, that it wasn't in vain. Soldier Boy and I struck very useful bargain, didn't we?” Butcher inquired, glancing back to Ben with a sly smile. “We're going to kill Homelander together.”

You felt uneasy, and your thoughts turned to the Homelander once again. Even if you didn't care about Ben at all, you couldn't help but feel concerned because you were both strangers to Vought and the outside world now that Ben had gotten into so much trouble. Not only did you not want to return to the lab, but you also didn't want Ben to go through the same painful experiences. Even though he had been vile to you, you didn't want him to suffer forever in Russia.

Annie replied, “You should have told me, Hughie,” casting a disappointed glare at her boyfriend. “You’re so acting strangely these days.”

Hughie insecurely responded, “I know, I know,” rubbing her cheeks. “And I’m really sorry for it. It won’t happen again.”

The man with short hair said, “You all know that they both are being searched by the government, right?”

Butcher shot back, “Of course we all fucking know that, Frenchie.”

Annie looked at you and said, “Well, I guess Y/N's situation is worse,” while you stood by Ben, watching him carefully to make sure he didn't suddenly lose his temper and start some serious drama. “Well, she's a known traitor after all.”

You immediately defended yourself by saying, “I'm not a traitor,” and you were enraged at her haughty demeanor. Despite her lack of knowledge, she was constantly talking about things she had no idea about. “Vought only spread lies and caused us pain in order to build up the next generation, which is your generation. They tortured me for years just because I wanted to quit.”

Annie's expression softened as she realized that Vought would do something like that and that she was having trouble as well in Seven. She then apologized to you by looking at you and sincerely saying, “I'm sorry to hear that.”

She went on, making an effort to get you to see how complicated the situation was, saying, “But you need to understand that no one will believe you. For all this time, you have been regarded as a spy for the entire world. The same remains for Soldier Boy.”

“What is your point?” Ben cut her off with a harsh voice.

Ben was becoming mad at those morons; they were just some stupid kids who liked to order other kids around, but he was a man, a true leader, the strongest supe to live, and they had no idea what him and you had been through or who had been in charge decades earlier. He was already becoming a little tense about that blonde's cunning ideas, so he realized he had to proceed with caution going forward. He had to watch out for you too, in order to keep you safe.

With defensive hands on her hips, Annie retorted, “The thing is, it's best if you don't see each other for a while. I can help you spend a week in various secure locations, separated.”

Ben abruptly tensed up, enraged that the blonde had already made plans in her cunning mind to keep him away from you. “No fucking way,” he said. He was certain that those fucked-brains would propose something so incredibly moronic.

Even if it made sense, you realized those new guys weren't to be trusted as they were strangers. It was true that you needed some alone time apart from Ben, but for the time being, it was preferable to ignore what you’re told.

“Everyone is talking about what happened in New York and Ohio,” Annie said furiously. “I’m just asking you two be hidden for a week. Everything’s already complicated in Vought and I have my own problems.”

“Look, sneaky woman,” Ben hissed, “I don’t give fuck about your problems or anything at all. If you ever suggest such thing, you won’t have a head to think such idiotic things anymore. I’m warning you.”

“Ben, you need to calm down,” you said. You scowled at the feeling that his chest was unusually heated compared to normal.

Frenchie agreed, saying, “Y/N is right; there is no need to fight each other.” The supe woman next to him smiled and patted his shoulders.

Butcher responded, “Annie is right too, though,” as he examined the Temp-V carefully on his lap. “Too much attention has been paid to Soldier Boy during the past three days. We are also doomed if he is seen soon enough.”

“They could be right,” you acknowledged, nodding to Butcher, understanding that his points were reasonable. Since you and Ben were currently the state's number one and two foes, you also didn't want to get into any sort of trouble.

Ben cursed, “Fuck that,” and he gave Butcher a menacing stare. He got offended at the fact that you instantly agreed with them but not with him. “I didn't realize I had done business with so many jerks. If you're that afraid of what's ahead, I might accept your suggestion, but Y/N is staying with me.”

“Calm down, buddy. Why are you so obsessed?” Butcher questioned, putting the bag down from his lap.

When you realized Ben was about to start an argument without reason, you asked him, “Why are you being like this?” in an irritated tone.

“Are you saying that you're prepared to follow those fuckfaces' instructions?” While you could tell he was angry, he inquired quietly, “What's wrong with you?”

Ben set down the coke and paid no attention to Butcher's irritating remarks. Instead, his attention was drawn to you. The fact that you didn't trust him but did trust the new people you had met most disturbed him. It was not them who saved you, but it was him who considered your safety and future. Still, you were ready to follow what they had to say. You'd been away from each other for a long time, so there was no reason to spend another minute separately.

“I'm not saying anything, Ben. I just want you to quit being irrationally dissatisfied and to be reasonable.”

Butcher sighed as he watched you start to debate, but Annie grasped Hughie's arm and guided him to another room to have a conversation.

Ben stated, “I'm not getting angry for no reason,” while attempting to stay controlled.

Despite Ben was desperate to touch you, he restrained himself since he knew that you two needed to have discussed the situation before acting on it. How in the world was he supposed to talk to you properly after a week apart? “I'm just saying, we don't have to spend a week alone and separated,” Ben said with a low voice.

Your eyes wandered around everywhere except for him.

“I'm not sure, Ben,” you teased him, feeling hesitant about his response. “Maybe we should.”

“How can you be sure that those people won't imprison you to a metal box once more? Do you really want to go back to that lab? You're saying you have faith in them, but not in me?”

You angrily gasped, “Don't you ever talk to me about trust. I would never make the same mistake by trusting you again.”

He tried to calm himself down, saying, “I'm the only one who saved you,” but the heat inside his chest kept growing.

“Will you stop arguing?” Butcher got up and asked, watching Ben trap you against the kitchen table while grinning at Ben and sipping his whiskey. “She obviously wants to be by herself for a while. Would you please just accept her decision and let her to enjoy herself?”

Ben angrily remarked, “Mind your fucking own business; we are fucking having a conversation here.”

You stopped disputing with him and cast a puzzled glance at his chest as soon as you felt the warmth in his chest increasing once more.

Butcher said, “It's like you're forcing her for something she doesn't want to though. Don't be such a drama queen,” ignoring Frenchie's warnings. “She might just want to spend time alone in a nice place and fuck with some hot dudes, savor the time she missed all those years.”

Ben snarled, turning to face Butcher and ignoring you this time. “Watch your fucking language," he growled. “If you say one more word, I fucking swear I'll rip your heads off.”

Ben's chest began to glow suddenly before he could finish his sentence, and your eyes widened, sensing the anxiety and the heat coming from his body.

“Ben,” you whispered quietly, uneasy with his rage and the anguish on his face, as if he tried to maintain self-control.

With an expression of fright on his face, Frenchie and the supe woman next to him also retreated a step. “Calm down, buddy,” Butcher muttered. “Let's not cause another accident. You've already done enough damage, huh. ”

But Ben's chest continued to glow, alerting you. “Hey, what's wrong with you?” you asked as you walked up to him, stroking his arms and then his face and making him to look at you.

He snarled, “I can't hold it,” and shoved your hands away right away. “Stay away from me.”

Instead of following commands, you remained in the same spot and continued to massage his upper arms in an effort to soothe him though you got extremely anxious. Then, in the hopes of calming him down a little, you put your hands on his burning, hot chest. Even if there was smoke slightly arising from his body, your hands felt chilly.

You whispered, “It's okay,” feeling his temperature drop beneath your fingertips gradually.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

A/N: Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! -`♡´-

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Let me know if you want to be tagged for this series. -`♡´-

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seospicybin · 2 days

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PROFESSIONAL COURTESY.

PART II

Felix x reader. (s)

Chapters: Prologue / Part I

Synopsis: Discovering that his new boss is someone he had one night stand with, Felix struggles to separate work life and personal business. And at times, finding himself mixing those two as he works under your dominance. (16,9k words)

Author's note: Please enjoy this one too and don't be shy to leave feedbacks 🙂

Felix is getting better at keeping his work and personal life separated.

When he clocks into work, he naturally adjusts himself to the environment. He knows it's all about business with you and all he needs to do is do his job right, there's no space for him to be emotional in here.

However, there are times when he can't help but get a little personal and that's because he finds you the most attractive when you are focused on work, you have this little crease formed between your eyebrows and your lower lip slightly jutting out, and sometimes, you have your index and middle fingers pressed against your temple as you read something.

Felix has the trick for it, he'll just quietly admire you through the glass wall from his desk and then think about what he's going to do later with you.

He consoles himself with that thought whenever he can't do certain things to you in the office, going home with you and executing one of his ideas to you.

Today, he's thinking of kissing you against the kitchen island in your apartment and if he's lucky, he plans on getting you on it and—

"He wants to see you," Yoon shatters his daydream with her brooding eyes.

Felix drops the pen he's been twirling in his fingers to his desk, "Who?"

"Who else?" Yoon annoyingly asks, not answering his question.

"Mr. Kang?" He guesses since she is his assistant. He gets up from his chair because, despite Yoon's sluggish way of delivering a message, it seems important.

Yoon disappears to the pantry as he keeps walking toward Mr. Kang's office, he knocks on his door even though it's wide open just to be polite.

"Oh, Felix, yes, come in!" Mr. Kang says with his glasses slumped down the bride of his nose.

"You're calling for me?" He asks as he comes toward his desk and waits for him to allow him to sit.

"Yes, please, sit down," he says, putting away a stack of files on the side of the desk.

Felix feels nervous because it seems serious, he knows he's not getting fired but it's serious, still. He clasps his hands together on his lap.

"I'll be quick," Mr. Kang says, putting down his glasses as they rest on his chest with the small chain securing them from falling, "You know I always want you to be in my team and I think it's the right time to start"

It comes as a surprise to him because he's slowly forgetting his true purpose of working in this company, he wants to be a journalist and now the opportunity presents itself to him and weirdly, he's not as ecstatic as he imagined he would be.

"Oh?" He simply responds.

"Do you still want to be a journalist?" Mr. Kang asks, stacking his arms on the desk.

"Yes, I do," he shortly replies, he should be happy that the climb to his dream job has come to an end.

It would be impossible for Mr. Kang to not notice his slight vexation, he smiles and starts talking about, "We're not going to start right away. I just need you to do one thing to see if you're ready for the job or not."

Not wanting to seem like he's being ungrateful or not happy with the news, Felix politely smiles before speaking, "I am truly honored with this opportunity but Mr. Kang, I'm still working as an assistant and I don't think I can do it with my current position..."

Mr. Kang is smart, he understands his concerns about taking this job, "Also, don't worry. I consulted with the chief beforehand and she agreed to it," he explains, addressing you as the chief like he always does.

"Really?" He hastily responds, slightly shocked to find out you knew about it before him.

"Yes and you fully have her support, you have nothing to worry about," he informs.

Honestly, he's happy about it but what stopping him is knowing that he's not going to work for you again and that makes him sad.

This is what he wants so knowing that you support this means something to him. He gets consoled by the fact that you have his back on this and he's ready for whatever he has to do to get this job.

"So, what's the one thing that I need to do?"

Mr. Kang smiles before shuffling a file in front of him and pulling it out, laying it in front of him, "I want you to write about this senior soccer club, I know their manager so you can tell me when you want an interview with them."

Felix scans through the papers to see just the important details about the subject of his interview, "Do I have a deadline?"

"Uhm... how about a week? Next Tuesday, you'll bring me the finished article."

Felix can't tell if he's negotiating or challenging him, he's not one to back down from a challenge, and he confidently agrees to it.

"Next Tuesday it is," he says with a smile and shakes his hand.

The happiest part of the day has finally come.

He can relax as he drives you home and once he gets in the elevator with you, he can step out of his professional self and into himself. He gently puts his hand on the small of your back after pressing the button on your floor.

"Want to order dinner now?" He asks, his one hand is occupied with your purse and coat.

"Yeah. I'm kind of hungry," you answer, not hesitate to place your hand on his hand that rests on your hips.

"French?"

You lightly shake your head, "I'm thinking Italian?"

"Italian sounds nice," he says, smiling before leaning in to peck your lips.

The best part of his day is when his lips finally meet yours and fulfill his need for the taste of your lips. He holds your jaw as he presses another kiss, longer than the previous one, and has the power to take the pressures of the day off of his shoulders.

After dinner, you refill the glasses with more wine and he's been dreaming about kissing you against that kitchen island from the moment he woke up from his sleep, it feels surreal to finally be able to do it for real.

He slips his arms under and around you, "Why didn't you tell me about it?"

You turn your head to the side, "About what?"

"That you support me to be a journalist," he says.

You put down the bottle of wine, "Well, I think it's great for your career. I don't see why I shouldn't support that."

He buries his nose in your neck and inhales the natural scent of your skin, he lets it intoxicate him as it gives him a sense of comfort.

For a second, he forgot about what he was about to say to you, "But I want to keep working as your assistant."

You refrain from sipping your wine and let out a chuckle, "Don't be silly! You can't be my assistant forever."

"Yes, I can," he disagrees and digs his nose further into your neck.

"Stop. That tickles!" You grumble, breaking away from his hold, and turn to face him.

Felix is more than happy to look at you and your beautiful face that endlessly fascinates him, he needs a moment to take it all in and to convince him that you are real.

"I want to stay close to you," he blurts out and he thinks it's coming from deep within him.

You slyly smile and rest your hands flat on his chest, "We're already close."

"Not close enough," he says with a head shake.

"How close then?"

He closes the gap between your bodies so that you can feel his body heat and his breath warmly brushes your lips.

"This close?" You lowly ask.

Felix slightly tilts his head to the side, teasing you by rubbing his lips against yours and letting it tantalize him more in return.

"This close," he mutters in his low voice then crashes his lips against yours.

Oh, to turn his fantasy into reality! He kisses you so passionately, letting his desires drive him and control him. His hands roam down your body, his hand trailing down your spine and eventually landing on your clothed ass, he cups that ample flesh through your tight skirt while continuously kissing you.

It's unfair that you can turn him on as if he were a light switch.

The other thing he wants to do to you is lift you and sit you on the kitchen island so he starts gripping each side of your waist and gathering his strength to—

The sound of your phone ringing interrupted the heating moment, he ignores it and hopes you do the same. He distracts you from it by holding the nape of your neck and keeps kissing you.

However, it's not enough to make the phone stops ringing and your hand gropes around the kitchen island to look for your phone.

He presses a haste kiss on your lips and whines, "Just leave it."

You laugh because he sounds cute whining with his deep voice, "At least, let me check who's calling."

He whines again yet gives in, letting you check your phone but he keeps you caged between his arms.

One glance at your phone screen and you hit the button to accept the call, "Sorry, I have to take this," you lowly mutter while breaking away from his hold.

Felix sighs and then pouts as you enter your bedroom to continue talking on the phone. He drinks his wine and spends the time to check the mail and packages on the side of the kitchen island.

He learns that you subscribed to a lot of magazines from fashion to finance and obviously, sports ones too. They are mostly bills and invitations to various events, then... there's the big bouquet of flowers. He can't find any cards inside but he finds them in between the pile of mails. He opens the card to find a handwritten message, congratulating you on the release of the annual issue, and on the bottom corner, he finds the initial of the sender. K.S which he believes stands for Kim Seungmin, only seeing his initials is enough to make Felix roll his eyes and scoff in disbelief.

Not long after, you return from the bedroom and walk up to him, picking up your glass of wine to have a long sip. He could have asked who called you or asked you about the flowers but he knows better that he should respect the boundaries.

"So how much time does Mr. Kang give you to write?"

"Oh, so you knew about it too?" He puts one hand against the kitchen island and places the other on your waist, wanting to keep you close to him. He doesn't need your explanation of how you knew, he knows the answer, and it's because you're his boss.

"He gave me a week," he tells you.

"You'd better go home and start working on it then," you say, putting your hand on him and holding it.

"I don't want to go home. We have to continue—"

"No. That's an order!" You firmly tell him.

"But we're not working right now," he grumbles like a fussy child.

"That doesn't change the fact that I'm your boss," you remark, coyly declaring your dominance over him with a piercing gaze and a confident smile.

Isn't that just the sexiest thing you ever did? Instead of feeling offended or intimidated, Felix finds you more alluring and he doesn't mind if he has to be on his knees and worship you all day, he would do that for you even without you asking him.

He swallows hard and takes the message like a good boy, "Yes. That's right."

You reach for the collar of his shirt and fix it for him, "As a professional courtesy, I wish you good luck," you say with a chaste kiss on his cheek.

Without saying anything, Felix obeys your words, collecting his things and getting ready to leave. If you want him to go home and start working on his writing, then that's what he's going to do.

In other words, he's simply obeying the words of his boss whether it's professionally or personally, or both.

It's official, Felix has no personal life.

Well, not exactly that, he works as usual and goes straight home to work on his article so he has no time for anything personal at the moment. Even in between work, he goes to Mr. Kang's office to consult about his article.

That's when Felix comes to a realization that you've been cutting him a lot of slack. He makes sure that when it comes to you, he does his job right.

"Got you a new cup of coffee," he says, placing the cup of coffee on your desk.

You swivel your chair to face him and put down the file you're reading, looking at the coffee then shot him an impressed smile.

"No sugar, two creams, and searing hot just the way you like it," he says with a smile.

"Thank you," you softly mutter as you wrap your hand around the cup.

Seeing that he brought you coffee unannounced and you're in the middle of work, and he's in your office, it's better if he leaves you to your work.

"I'll just leave you to continue working," he says, excusing himself to leave.

"No, stay," You order, gesturing for him to sit on the small sofa in your office as you get up from your chair, "Have a seat!"

He stops on his track and makes a turn to sit on the sofa, awkwardly sitting there, then watches you coming to sit across from him.

"So, how's the writing going?" You ask while getting yourself comfortable by crossing your legs together

For a second, he gets distracted by your exposed thigh and how your legs are crossed at the ankle, "It's going well," he simply answers.

"You did the interview yesterday, right?" You ask, then take a careful sip of your coffee.

"Yes. It surprises me that I had a delightful time interviewing them," he shares with a smile.

"Because they're elderly people?"

"No, it's not that," he immediately denies, "It's just refreshing to talk with them about their experiences, their passion..."

You suddenly let out a chuckle and say, "I wasn't serious with my question."

Felix can't believe that he gets to this point of being able to be playful with each other in the office, he allows himself to relax and well, be playful as well.

"Well, actually, that too," he jokingly says.

"How close are you to finish it?"

"I just need to do a few things but it's almost there," he calmly answers.

"So you're confident you'll finish it on time?" You ask with your face slightly turned serious.

"Yes," he confidently and seriously answers.

"That's great to hear," you respond with a soft smile.

You sit straighter on your seat then lean forward, and that makes him feel like you're putting all of your attention on him, "Maybe once you finished your article, we can do something to celebrate it," you say.

It sends a shiver down his spine and it's because he can't tell whether you're being professional or personal, either way, it makes him nervous.

There's a line that Felix knows he shouldn't cross and he oftentimes doesn't find it hard to resist the temptation to do it until today.

"I'll look forward to that," he manages to keep his calm.

"Better finish your article on time then," you say, slyly smiling at him.

He never thought that he'd be this scared to be in the same room with you, scared that he'd lose it and do as he pleases in this very room.

He shoots up from his seat and looks at you, "I'd better get back to my work," he says in one breath, not even waiting for your permission to leave the room.

Felix keeps his word to finish the article on time. He sent the finished article last night to Mr. Kang and he's been anxiously waiting for his call when he can just go to his office and ask about it.

When the phone rings, his first thought is that it's Mr. Kang and his heart skips a beat. He draws a long breath and then picks up the handle of the phone.

But instead of the call that he's been waiting for, it's the one call he doesn't expect to answer.

"It's Kim Seungmin," The caller says to him.

He knows it's his job to inform you but he finds it very hard to do, "Please, wait a minute!"

He calls your office and hopes that you don't pick up the call, but he sees through the glass wall that you're picking it up just now.

"Yes?"

"Mr. Kim Seungmin is on the line to talk to you," he informs with a sour expression.

"I'll take it," you shortly reply.

"He's on line two."

"Thank you, Felix," you mutter as you press the button to switch lines and accept his call.

Felix should be hanging up his phone by now but he hides behind his computer screen and quietly listens in on your conversation.

"Hey, sorry for calling you through the office."

"I was about to ask you that. You could have called my numbers."

"I called but it seems you were on the call with someone."

"Oh yeah, I was on a call with Suze."

"Suze, huh?"

"Just the usual rant about her brother," you say with a laugh and he hates how you can be so casual and comfortable talking to him about personal things like that.

"I kind of figured. Well, I'm calling you to ask about the dinner."

"What dinner?"

"Your family dinner, I got invited so I thought..."

"Oh, of course, they invited you first before telling me about it."

"It seems like it."

Felix smirks at that, knowing that he's been invited by your family and not you which means that the two of you are close but not that close, he reckons.

"Should I come or...? I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I can—"

"No, please. You'll be the only person I can tolerate there."

"Oh, great. I was thinking—"

The slap on the desk startles him and he hurriedly slams the phone down, forgetting that you might noticed that he's been eavesdropping.

"Mr. Kang is asking for you," Yoon says, greeting him with her usual brooding eyes through her thick glasses.

"Goodness, Yoon! You could have reached me through the phone," he scolds her while calming himself from almost getting caught listening in on your call.

"Well, your line has been busy and I'm impatient," she says, she stops lingering by his desk as usual and leaves without saying anything else.

This is what he's been waiting all day, a call from Mr. Kang and now he's got it so he should get himself to it. He comes to his office with his heart beating so fast that he thinks it's about to jump out of his chest at any moment.

"Come on in! I've been expecting you," Mr. Kang says with a welcoming smile.

Felix suddenly fills with hopefulness, he somehow gets the assurance that no matter what happens, he's going to be alright.

"I read your article as soon as I received it last night," Mr. Kang says, clasping his hands together in front of him.

From his expression, Felix can tell that he likes it or at least, he doesn't find it that bad, "And what do you think, sir?"

He smacks his lips together and nods, "I think you've done a wonderful job!"

Felix can finally let out a sigh of relief, he knows Mr. Kang will like it but knowing it for sure relieved him from the pressures that have been weighing on his chest.

"I'll have it published on the site tomorrow morning," he shares another great news.

"Published?" Felix asks in disbelief, thinking he misheard it.

"Yes," Mr. Kang excitedly answers, he then offers his hand at him and says, "Welcome to my team!"

Shaking his hand means that the climb is finally over but that also means he'll no longer be your assistant, his heart feels heavy about moving on to a new part of his career but it's necessary.

Felix takes a deep breath, takes Mr. Kang's hand, and then shakes it.

Felix feels bittersweet as he packs his stuff from the desk he's been working in for almost three years now. But he knows the bitter part is coming from knowing that he's not working under you anymore, at least, not directly.

The phone rings and shattering the melancholic moment for him, he immediately picks it up.

"Please come into my office!" You concisely say to the phone.

He doesn't need to answer but come into your office like you asked, "What can I help you with?" He asks as he stands in front of your desk, ready to take your orders.

"Oh, no. I'm not asking you to do things for me," you tell him, putting your files on a neat stack on your desk, "I only have a few things to say to you."

Somehow, hearing that makes him disappointed, he wants to do things for you before he can't do it anymore for you. "Okay," he meekly answers.

"Well, first, congratulations on your first article," you say, pushing the stack of files away to the side of the desk.

"Thank you," he gratefully mutters, "if you don't mind, I'd like to hear what do you think about it?"

You look up from the file you're holding, "I say it's a very well-written piece of writing. I think you did great on your first gig on the job."

You get around the desk and walk up to where you hang your coat to get your purse, "Which I also should congratulate you on that."

"Thank you again," he says with a smile.

"I promised you about doing something once you're finished with the article so..." you walk up to him and hand him your credit card, "Here, drinks are on me tonight."

That's not what Felix expected as something that you promised him but his disappointment doesn't stop.

"Unfortunately, I can't join the celebration. I have a family dinner to attend," you explain with an apologetic smile.

He's not upset about you not joining the celebration of his job promotion, but knowing that your ex-fiance will be there.

"Once again, congratulations and hope you enjoy your new role in the company," you say, keeping it formal and business with your courteous smile.

What did he expect though? He's working and he's in your office, you can't just run hug, or kiss each other.

"Thank you so much," Felix says and that's all he can say for now.

Honestly, he has something to ask you but not here, not now. He flashes you a grateful smile before turning around to leave your office but something keeps tugging in his chest and he needs to get it off.

Felix braves himself to just go with his gut and comes up to you, he gently places his hand on your elbow while using his body to shield this whole interaction.

"Hey, I know that we're still working and we're in the office but..." he pauses to breathe in and out while checking if you're comfortable with what he's doing.

"Can I take you on a ride this weekend?"

You remain quiet for a moment then a soft smile appears on your face, "I would love to."

Now he got his answer, he should be letting go of his hand on you but he insists on lingering there for a moment, seeing you eye to eye until it lessens the yearning in him.

When he lets go, he immediately takes a step back and raises your credit card, "Thank you for this. I'll make sure to have fun tonight."

Deep down, Felix knows he's excited for something else other than tonight.

The second Felix sees you coming out of the door, his heart palpation. He believes it's you and your radiant smile that makes you look stunning even though you're dressed in a plain white t-shirt and blue jeans.

He doesn't notice you've been carrying the jacket you borrowed from him in one hand until you come up to him.

"Have you been waiting long?" You ask.

He shakes his head and smiles, "Not long enough," he jokingly answers.

"I'm sorry. I had to take a phone call from my mom," you explain as you put on your jacket.

"That's okay. You're here now," he says, turning around to get a helmet for you.

You stand still as he helps you put the helmet on, he fixes your hair first, brushing it to the side but seeing your face this close and not kissing you feels wrong. Tempted, he holds your jaw and places a soft kiss on your lips, longer than he intended to.

When he pulls away, he sees your eyes are still closed so he allows himself to place a quick peck on your lips.

"I'm sorry. I can't help it," he apologizes.

You only respond with a low chuckle and tilt your head upward so he can clasp the straps of the helmet together for you.

Felix gets on his bike and puts on his leather gloves, then turns the key in the ignition until the engine roars to life. He revs it up a few times to get it warmed up then holds his stance to let you hop on the back of the bike.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes."

He puts his helmet on and pulls the visor down, before launching his bike towards the main road and rides on.

The weather is nice today, he plans on taking you on a slow ride out of the city through the scenic route. He stops at a few spots that offer breathtaking views and then stops at a diner to have a quick lunch.

On the road with you like this pulls him out of the harsh reality and into the life he dreamed where he can be with you without having to worry about what or where he is.

He remembers your hands were around his waist earlier but now, they're resting on his thighs again. He chuckles when he glances at it, and shifts his focus back on the road ahead of him.

In the afternoon, the weather takes a drastic turn as thick clouds cast dark shadows on a supposedly sunny day and not long after, the rain starts showering you together.

Since the rain is only getting harder and it's dangerous to keep riding, Felix stops at the first sighting of a neon sign that leads to someplace he can take shelter in.

What he doesn't expect is that "someplace" to be a motel, he cringes once he notices it but he already parked the bike and you already got off.

"Do you want to...?" He gives up on suggesting to check in to the motel, he alternates with a new idea, "I think there's a hotel not far from here—"

You hug yourself as your jacket is drenched and so are your jeans and shoes, "What's wrong with the motel?"

He takes your helmet from you and brushes his wet hair to the back, "Are you okay with it?"

"We can't keep riding in this weather," you simply answer, emphasizing that comfort comes second after safety.

The motel costs not even half of the cost of one day stay in a 5-star hotel you book in but for a motel, it's adequate. A bed, a TV, a working room heater, and complimentary packs of instant coffee.

You take the first turn to use the bathroom and come out wearing the t-shirt he bought from the souvenir shop downstairs that are two sizes too big for you because they only have one size available.

"That looks good on you," he sincerely compliments.

You shyly smile and sit on the bed next to him, "So what's for dinner?"

Felix scrunches his nose, embarrassed that he can't find anything decent except for some inconvenient store foods.

"Cup noodles and..." he brings the cup of instant coffee he made earlier, "Coffee."

You take it from him with both hands, using the heat to warm you up as you put your legs on the bed and cross it together.

"I don't know if you'll like it," he sheepishly says.

You take a careful sip and swallow it, doing it so calmly.

"How did it taste?"

"It's..." you pause for a second before continuing, "alright."

He can't help but laugh watching you befuddled by what you've just drank, "You don't have to keep drinking it."

"No, it's okay. It's not that bad," you assure him and take another sip of the coffee.

The night is getting late but the rain doesn't come to a stop, the constant raindrops pattering against the window somehow adding to the sentiment of the moment as he lays with you on the bed, sharing the thin blanket.

"This isn't what I planned for today," he groans as he stares at the ceiling.

"What was your plan?" You curiously ask.

"There's this nice restaurant with a nice view..." he doesn't continue his sentence but sighs.

"But this is nice too," you mutter as you snuggle close to his side.

Things didn't go as planned and Felix has been worried that you're not enjoying the trip as he wanted it to be, but knowing that you're enjoying this detour the same makes him feel relieved, he quietly smiles in triumph.

"And you know," you murmur, rubbing the tip of your nose against his cheek, "we can always make it better."

He'd be lying if he said this is not what he's been waiting to hear, you permit him to make things better.

"That's right," he agrees, putting his arm around you and pulling you closer. This way, he can look at your face and admire it, before slowly putting his lips on yours.

The truth is things will always be better when he's with you, either it's your smile, your hand that rests on his chest, or the warmth of your body against him. But it's the kiss, it's your kiss that makes things ten times better and reminds him of the purpose of his life.

He holds you tight as he deepens the kiss, one hand rests on the nape of your neck while the other grips your waist, steadily keeping you close to him.

But also, in a moment like this, something starts to gnaw inside him and force its way to come out. He slowly pulls away and tries to convey what's bothering him from the inside.

"I have to ask you something," he murmurs as his hand cups your cheek.

"Yes?"

He has arranged words in his head to say and opens his mouth but nothing comes out of it, "I think—"

The sound of the door being slammed shut startles both of you and Felix snaps his head in the direction of the door, turns out, the sound is coming from the next room as he can hear footsteps and also the TV being turned on as the noise drowning out the sounds of the rain.

Fuck, no! Things are just getting good and whoever stays in the next room decides to come back now, ruining the kiss, the moment, the tension building in the room, everything.

"Thin walls," you mutter, making it obvious that the two of you can't do certain things here without being heard by anyone in the next room.

"Yep," he bitterly answers, guessing that you're going to call it a night.

Instead of that, you get on top of him and kiss him deeply, "We just have to keep it quiet then," you easily resolve, planting your lips on him again.

That's an easy thing to say but a hard thing to do, not when your body makes him want to scream, letting the world know how heavenly your body is.

"Oh, you're so soft," he mutters into your neck as he runs his hand down your back as you sit straddling him.

You giggle as he roughly kisses your neck, you put your hands around his neck, letting him bury his head between your breasts which he's more than happy to do.

"You like them so much, mmh?" you murmur as you give his hair a quick ruffle.

With his mouth full of your breast, he can only nod in response.

"That's enough," you calmly order him to stop but he's too focused on enjoying himself.

You put your hands on his chest and gently push him away, forcing him to let go of your breasts. With his mouth gaping open, he looks at you in confusion.

"Lay on your back," you mutter right into his ear.

He slowly lets go of his hands on you and lowers himself onto the bed, laying on his back as you instructed. Soon after, you hover above him with your hands propped next to his head. You flash him a naughty smile before placing a passionate kiss on his lips.

"I'll take care of you tonight," you murmur with your warm breath brushing his lips as you speak along with a gentle caress on his freckled cheek.

That's a way to get him all hot and excited. Being naked on the bed with you is already enough for him and now you want to take care of him? This is too good to be true.

"I have a condom with me," he says, slowly getting up to reach for his jacket.

You push him down, so hard that it startles him, "I told you to lay back," you tell him again with a glare.

"Okay," he slightly stuttering as he lay back on the bed again.

Your eyes are staring into his eyes but your hand is gliding down his front and stops on his abdomen, trailing the outline of his abs with your fingers.

"We don't need that tonight," you tell him as your hand lowers to find his hardening length.

Knowing that you want to do it raw and added with the fact that he knows how good you feel around him without a layer of protection, those things tell him that it's not going to be easy for him.

"I need you to relax and just..." you pause as you start giving his cock slow, steady strokes, "...let me take good care of you."

Felix finds himself caught under your spell, repeatedly nodding and agreeing to whatever you say. You slyly smile as you're straddling him and begin to rub his cock between your folds, wetting it with your arousal.

"Oh, and one more thing," you suddenly add, getting him alerted when he's about to try to relax.

"What?" He asks with his voice turned hoarse.

Catching him off guard, you align his cock with your entrance and slide him in, making him groan at the overwhelming sensation.

You immediately cover his mouth with your hand, "Shh... keep it quiet, remember?"

This is your plan all along, making him struggle to stay quiet as some sort of entertainment for you but hey, as long as both sides gain something, there's nothing to lose here.

"How do I feel?" You ask, then remove your hand from his mouth.

He holds your hand close to his mouth and kisses your palm, "You're always good. Always," he emphasizes every word to you.

"Hmm... ah..." you let out low, breathy moans with your hands going all over.

Felix has the best view from under you, he can see his cock buried deep inside you and at the same time, watching you touch yourself. He joins in on the fun, using his hands to admire your soft, warm skin and touch you as much as he wants.

You take one of his hands, guiding him to where you want to touch him, down south to where you and him connected. From there, he needs no directions anymore, his fingers can easily locate your bundle of nerves and start circling on it.

"Oh, baby..." you moan and giggle at the same time with your head tilted upward.

After a moment, you look at him again and say, "I'm going to start moving, yeah?"

For support, you rest your hands on his chest and begin by slowly rolling your hips in a circular motion, making you feel his whole length inside you.

Felix realizes the danger he's in as he can feel how tightly you are wrapped around him, so hot and slippery. He keeps in mind that he needs to relax and stay quiet so he bites his lips to prevent him from making any noises.

The bed is fainty creaking as you rock your hips back and forth, making him feel the drag of his cock against your velvety walls in each movement. But with this steady pace, he's confident that he can hold it in long.

"You're so hard, so big inside me," you mutter to him while keeping your voice low and sultry.

You're using compliments now to get him off and strangely, it works on him as he tries so hard to do the opposite.

"And you're always tight for me," he compliments back, cupping your ass cheeks in his hands and kneading on them as he talks.

"You feel so good inside me," you praise him more with a rather sexy smirk on your face.

His brain is close to short-circuit, all he can do is return the compliments to you, "You feel so good inside me."

You slide your hand up and wrap your hand around his neck, "I don't think I'll ever find a more perfect cock to be inside me than yours."

With your hand on his neck, you can easily angle his head to make him look at you and ask, "Don't you think?"

"Yes, yes," he hastily replies as he feels your fingers pressing in around his neck.

With a sloppy kiss on his lips, you decide to let go of his neck only to change your position, you plant both feet on the mattress and put your hands behind you, propped against his thighs.

"This way you can see yourself slipping in and out of me," you tell him then proceed to show it to him by doing it.

Watching it and feeling it at the same time sends his mind into overdrive, he feels nothing but pleasure after pleasure, coming to him non-stop.

"Slow down, oh! Please!" He pleads while gripping your thighs so hard his fingers dug into the flesh

You hear his plea and abruptly stop moving, you get back to straddling him and leaning in as you softly ask, "Want to take a moment?"

"Yes, yeah," he breathlessly answers.

You hastily kiss his lips and hover above him again, "Okay."

Felix needs to calm down but he knows he can't waste the chance to be intimate with you, he pulls you by the neck so he can kiss you, hard and deep, taking as much taste of you as he could.

"I'm going to start moving again," You announce with a kiss on his cheek.

Felix thinks he's ready to go again but he believes it's mostly because he doesn't want to stop. There's a big chance that he'll be a moaning mess under you but does he mind though?

"Let's take it slow this time, yeah?" You sweetly mutter with a peck on his lips.

Your spell binds him stronger, all he wants to do is say yes to you and obey your words without question. It sounds easy to say but putting it into action is a different thing.

Keeping true to your words, you're moving at a slow pace, alternating between rocking your hips back and forth to roll your hips in circular motions. At times, you pull back just enough so you can take him deeper inside you.

"Argh!" He groans, finding it harder to keep quiet.

You grab his hands and place them on your waist, you keep moving while holding them, "You like that, mmh?"

His mouth is dry from constantly moaning so he nods instead.

"Mmh... You're getting bigger and bigger inside me," you say with a sly smirk.

"Oh, so fucking good..." you hum with eyes closed.

The way you're riding him and the way you're enjoying yourself riding him along with the sweet praises you utter in between, oh, he can't take it anymore.

"I'm going to cum," he blurts out with his hands gripping at your waist again, helplessly trying to stop you.

"Huh?" You ask in disbelief as you slow down and eventually stop moving, "Already?"

He hates to admit it but finds himself nodding, he can't lie when you can feel it inside you, how his cock throbs and pulsates with so much desire.

You hover with your face only inches away above him, "I'm so disappointed," you say.

Best believes Felix is also disappointed in himself for having such weak self-control, but what can he do? His body wants what it wants.

You bury your head in his neck and place soft kisses in there, "You can't cum yet, baby."

He takes a long, deep breath and looks at you through his half-shut eyes, "You're just too good," he explains with his deep, hoarse voice.

You catch his lips in a kiss and keep kissing him, your teeth playfully biting at his lower lip as a way to help him relax. When you pull away, you hold his face and take a second to admire the freckles dusted his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, it would take a lot of time to place a kiss on each freckle but it's a challenge you're willing to take.

"Can I continue now?"

Not sure he can hold back longer or even as long as the previous one, he stifles a nod in response to your question. What he knows for sure is he wants you, he wants you so bad.

You prop your hands against the mattress and stay hovering above him, "It's your fault for having such a good cock," you jokingly say with a kiss planted on his nose.

"I just want to keep fucking you," you say, starting to move your hips.

"And fucking you," you set a steady pace, pulsating your hips with intensity.

"And fucking you more," you continue, suddenly picking up the pace.

The previous stimulations are making him more sensitive than before and you become tighter, clenched around him and you're just so fucking sexy, fucking him with your breasts bouncing along to the movement and a blissful smile on your face.

"Oh, fuck," a profanity falls out of his mouth. He's really on the brink of climaxing.

There's no way he can get what he wants without asking, he ignores how pathetic he'll sound and asks you, "Can I cum?"

"No, not yet," you shortly reply.

"Please, let me cum!" He desperately begs, his eyes are fluttering shut and open, and he's holding on to the last shred of his sanity.

"Do you want to cum that much?"

"So much," he answers as much as he could.

You let out a light chuckle and kiss him as you lower yourself on him, you're probably seeing him like a needy baby and he doesn't mind at all.

You lean in and hold his gaze, "How about you finish it for us then?"

Did he hear that right? Are you letting him take control? Will he be able to handle it though? And so many thoughts are rushing through his head right now.

Not getting an answer from him, you kiss him to snap him out of his head, then ask, "Why am I not hearing anything?"

"Yes," he hastily replies before you change your mind. He puts his arms around you and rests his hands on the arch of your back, he allows himself to kiss you first before turning you over without pulling out of you.

Having you pinned underneath him doesn't change the fact that you still have him in your spell. Your body endlessly enticing him, the eyes you're giving him are seductive and you have that sweet yet devilish smile on your face, everything that makes you you is his weakness.

"Are you going to make me cum too?" You teasingly ask, tugging your finger between your teeth.

"I'll try," he manages to jokingly answer.

You softly chuckle and put your hand on his arm, feeling his bicep contract as you grip on it, "Let's see you try."

Now that he gets to do everything he wants, Felix can't decide what he should do first but he soon settles with a kiss, planting a kiss on every inch of skin he can land his lips on and eventually, makes a return to your lips again.

"I want you to do one more thing for me," you speak so low it's almost like a whisper.

His heart skips a beat and that's because he knows your request is never one that is easy to fulfill, possible but hard to achieve. Then again, your spell is still working on him and at this point, he's spellbound for life.

"You can tell me," he says to you with his fingers tenderly playing with your nipples.

You rest your hands on his shoulders and look at him with your eyes filled with wild glints, enchanting him to look back into your eyes.

"I want you to cum inside me," you casually say like it does not affect him whatsoever.

Felix feels a surge of electricity throughout his body, it makes him feel tingling inside and to his surprise, making him feel more alive. But his brain is processing your words slower than his body.

"Wh-what?" He stutters.

"You heard me," you coyly say, then your sly smile vanishes in a second as you ask, "Or do you want me to repeat my words?"

He knows the meaning of having you repeat your words to him and it's not good. His excitement is tinted with a slight fear now, but he's excited nonetheless.

"I heard you," he immediately says.

"That's a good boy," You mutter, the sly smile returns to your face as you slip your hand into his hair and softly give his scalp soft scratches, "Now, kiss me!"

He complies without complaint, lowering his mouth on you again and indulging himself with the taste of your lips, he patiently pries your mouth open with his tongue to slip in to get more taste of you.

Meanwhile, you part your legs wider and put them around his waist, crossing them by the ankles behind him, sending him launched deeper inside you.

"Oh, my fu—" he manages to stifle his breath, stopping himself from finishing cursing.

"Good, yeah?"

"Always," he hisses through his gritted teeth.

Felix can't decide where to look, he wants to see his cock going in and out of you but at the same time, he wants to see your face, how you're reacting to his performance and he ends up alternating between the two.

You take his hand, shoving his thumb into your mouth and sucking on it. He reckons you're doing it to prevent yourself from making noises.

He glances down to see his cock is slippery with both of your arousal then looks up to find you looking at him. Not just looking, you deeply look into his eyes with your innocent yet seductive eyes.

As he continuously thrusts into you, he bravely maintains eye contact with you and finds those eyes do more than just look, they're speaking so many words that the mouth can't say. They are filled with so much want, so much passion, they're provoking him and arousing him more and more.

"Are you going to cum for me?" You lowly ask.

"Yes."

"Going to fill me with your cum, yeah?"

He eagerly bobs his head in agreement, "Yes."

"Want to be filled with your hot cum," your voice is shaking as his body responds to your words by picking up the pace and he thrusts harder into you.

"You can't stop until you fill me full with your cum, mmh?" You grip the sides of your pillow as he thrusts even harder into you, sending your body forward with each thrust.

"You're so close, mmh?"

"Can I cum?" he asks with an overwhelmed groan.

"Now?" You calmly ask like you're not watching him struggling to keep it together.

"Please, let me cum!" He pleads, holding your waist so hard that his nails make crescent marks on the skin, "I can't hold it in. I need to cum."

Despite how tired he is, he keeps pushing himself to the limit, using all of his remaining strength to keep moving his hips and incessantly thrusting into you.

"Please..." he desperately begs with his eyes screwed shut.

You coil your hands around his arms and pull him closer, "Okay, baby, you can cum now."

With your permission, he can finally let himself go, thrusting into you and letting it take him to his release. He gets to the point that he stops caring about staying quiet, he wants to let you know how much he wants it by moaning and groaning to the pleasure that fills him to the brim.

With the way you keep clenching, sucking him deeper and deeper, it doesn't take long for him to finally come undone. Your legs are locked around his waist and you keep him close, not letting him pull away yet.

The feeling of filling you with his seed triggers something deep within him that makes him growl and it sounds nothing like a human with his deep voice, he hurriedly plants his mouth on your sternum to muffle his noises.

"Look at you cumming inside me," you murmur with your hands cradling his head in your chest and gently brushing his head.

"That's my good boy," you coo with a kiss on the top of his head.

The rain has turned into a light shower outside and the quiet in the room has been replaced with the echo of your giggles as Felix places ticklish kisses on your neck.

He's lying naked under the cover and cuddling on the bed with you, the things that he's not even dared to dream of ever happening but it happened, right here, in this moment with you.

"How are you—" you got cut off with a haste kiss on your lips to finish your words.

Felix shifts his attention to your breasts, taking them into his mouth in turn and twirling his slick tongue around your nipples, making them hard and wet.

"How are you still hard, mmh?" You try again as you put your hand in his dark locks and gently scratch his scalp.

What you're doing to him makes him purr like a kitten with his mouth latched to your breast, he closes his eyes and clings to your chest while his other gently kneading on the other.

In a tender moment like this, Felix sees for what you truly are: genuine, self-assured and you may seem aloof to many but you're very attentive, only if one knows to treat you right.

In this moment, he also feels like he can comfortably share things with you and vice versa.

Felix happens to have something he's been wanting to ask you, something that gnawing inside him and won't stop gnawing at him until he gets the answer.

"Can we keep doing this?" He asks.

The question catches you off guard, you stop playing with his hair and look at him, "You mean the sex or...?"

He realizes that his question lacks context, he chuckles and plants his elbow against the mattress, he uses his hand to prop his chin, "Since I'm no longer working under you, I figure that... you know, I'm afraid you'd find it uncomfortable to keep doing this," he sounds sad without he's intending to.

Felix knows that you value your privacy so much, he knows you're risking your family name by secretly going out with him like this and now that he's not directly working for you anymore, you would want to stop doing it as well.

"If that's what you want, I respect it. I'll respect your decision nonetheless," he quickly adds, not wanting to sound demanding or forcing anything on you.

"So... not just the sex?" You ask in confusion.

"Not just the sex," he answers, finding himself not able to look at you in the eyes.

Instead of answering, you stretch your arms out to the air and then drop them around his shoulders. You let out a delightful sigh and then smile at him.

"Well, first thing first, you're still working under me," you tell him with an eyebrow raise.

Felix grins and says, "That's fair."

"Second thing is unless one of us wants to stop doing this then I don't see why we should," you tell him.

"Do you want to stop?" He asks with his head beating out of control inside his chest, afraid of hearing the answer he doesn't want.

"No," you answer without a beat, "I like this."

Hearing you say something about this unnamed relationship makes him feel elated, moreover, he feels acknowledged and seen.

"You should worry more about getting the time to do this," you say.

"Why is that?" He asks in confusion.

"You're a journalist now. You'll do a lot of fieldwork, busy writing, and...'

"Nah. I don't. I don't think so," he doubtfully says, but he's confident that he can always make time for you.

Looking at his troubled expression, you let out a chuckle then continue talking, "The third and the last thing is... you will always be working under me," you mutter those words with a smirk on your face, knowing exactly what it does to him.

Those words aren't just words, they are a declaration of your dominance over him and it'll stay like that for the unforeseeable future. Felix doesn't mind being a submissive, he is in love with the idea of catering to your wants and needs, helping you to achieve things and the most important thing is he gets to stay close to you.

"Did that answer your question?" You ask while brushing his hair away from his forehead.

"Yes," he answers with a satisfied smile, boldly leaning in to place a long, lingering kiss on your lips.

"Do you have another question or do you want to try to make me cum for real this time?"

You were busy making him cum to focus on pleasing yourself and he was busy with himself trying not to cum fast, it's his turn to return the favor to you now. And let's say, he's determined to give you the utmost pleasure.

"I'll try harder this time."

"You'd better be."

If there's one thing he should learned by now is that you're right. You're always right.

Felix hardly comes to the office because he's busy doing his job on the field, covering various sports matches and events. He only comes to the office to attend meetings or when he needs to finish work by the nearing deadlines

He's well aware you're in there in your office, working and being your graceful self as always, but he barely has time to see you.

But today, he gets his chance. He purposely comes early to the office to borrow the office's laptop, there's hardly anyone in there except for the janitors sweeping the floor but just in case, he takes the longer route to the elevator and walks past your office.

At first, he doubts that you'd already come but the universe seems to hear his plea and decides to grant his wish, he enters your office and finds you standing behind your desk.

"You came early," he blurts out, still in disbelief that he finally meets you in person and not just a glimpse of you he sees through the window of your office.

You look over your shoulder and hang your jacket on the coat hanger before walking up to him, "You came early," you say back.

"I notice your new assistant isn't here yet," he says, pointing to his former desk right outside your office.

"She'll be here," you say, "after getting the copy of a book I want and my breakfast sandwich with a cup of searing hot coffee."

It feels like a distant memory that he used to be that person doing all sorts of errands for you, it's crazy that he's kind of missing it.

"Bookstores aren't open until 8 I'm afraid," he informs.

"Well, she only needs to find a bookstore that opens earlier than that," you say with a coy shrug.

Your cold act doesn't fool him, he knows you're actually a very warm person inside but then, he reminds himself that he's in the office now, therefore, he should act accordingly.

You're leaning against your desk and cross your arms together in front of you, "how are you?"

"Never been better," he says, now that he's seeing you looking as beautiful as always. He must say there's something that seems not right about you, he just can't tell what is it.

"Are you sure?"

He's busy figuring out what's different about you, "Huh?"

"You said 'never been better'. Are you sure?" You ask again, coming to close the gap between your bodies by a few steps.

Then he realizes that things are only better when he's with you, "Oh, sorry. I was wrong," he immediately takes back his previous answer.

You smile and take another step to close the gaping space between you and him, "Are you going somewhere?"

"Yeah. I need to interview this new baseball player," he explains, sparing the details from you.

"On your bike?"

He gets it that you're not interested in where he's going, "Yes," he answers.

You take the final step and stop right in front of him, you place your hand on the lapel of his leather jacket, sighing as you feel the fabric under your touch.

Afraid that anyone may walk into the office and see this, Felix looks around in slight panic, but the office remains empty just as he saw it a moment ago.

"Mmh..." you hum as you place your other hand on his chest and look up at him.

In your eyes he can easily find the answer, they're not filled with fiery glints and mesmerize him the same, they're dim and rather sad.

"Are you okay?" He asks, sensing that something is bothering you.

You shake your head and weakly smile, "You can always make it better," you give him a cryptic answer.

To his surprise, you bring his head close and kiss him, long and lingering, making his heart rattle in his chest. Your kiss is always something you assured yourself doing, it's something that he knows for sure you wanted but this kiss somehow feels different.

The moment you break the kiss, he smiles and asks, "Did we just kiss in the office?"

"Well, consider that as a professional courtesy," you give him a witty answer.

"Can we do this professional courtesy once more?" He appeals with his sweet, bright smile.

"Sure," you answer with a coy shrug.

He holds your face and then slowly leans in to kiss you, softly yet intensely. At the same time, this kiss helps him recall what it reminded him of and it's of the kiss you shared in the hotel room, that night after the boxing match.

When he pulls away, he wonders what makes you seek solace in him. What bothers you? Who dares to make you sad this time?

"Are you okay?" He asks again, allowing himself to cup your face in his hand.

"I feel better now," you assure him with a smile.

If there's something to gain, there's something to lose as well. Felix is living his dream job right now but in return, he's losing and that is time with you. He can feel that this distance strained your relationship in a way that he no longer feels as close to you as he used to be.

All of a sudden, you get back to your formality and walk back to your desk, "You'd better be on your way then. You don't want to be late for the interview."

He has the feeling that you behave that way because there's a presence of another person in there, he looks out of the window of your office and sees that your assistant has come.

"Wow. She's good," Felix lowly mutters, watching her bringing your breakfast on a tray for you.

"Good morning, ma'am," your new assistant says as she enters the room.

She walks past him and serves your breakfast on your desk, she then fills your glass with a newly opened bottle of sparkling water.

"Your breakfast," she says, announcing that it's ready for you.

She nervously stands with her hands clasped in front of her, watching you reacting plainly to it as you take the cup of coffee in your hand.

Before it gets awkward, Felix excuses himself out of your office but before he reaches the door, he can hear you ask about the book.

"I couldn't find any open bookstores so I have someone to deliver it soon," she says.

"We have friends in so many publishing companies and you can't get a copy for me?"

"The release date for the book is today. I don't think it's possible to—"

Felix shuts the door before he can hear the rest of the conversation, he gets a shiver from remembering the first few days working for you. This job is not for the faint of the heart, and he's partly lucky because you cut him a lot of slack.

"She's not that good apparently," he mutters to himself.

However, Felix lingers by his old desk and waits until your new assistant comes out of your office, her face flushed and she keeps her head down as she walks to her desk.

"Can I help you?" She asks.

Felix glances at the name on her desk then slides his phone on the table at her, "So June, this is my friend's number, I believe he can help you to get the book she wanted," he says.

June's face lights up, she quickly copies the numbers on Felix's phone and inserts them into her phone.

"What do you want in return?" She asks, knowing exactly that this should be a fair trade.

Felix doesn't need to put on a charming smile for her, he leans and whispers, "I just need to look at her schedule."

She gives him a questioning look, probably wondering what his intention is but she can't say any of that to her savior, right? She turns the computer screen toward him and pretends to be busy on her phone.

Felix knows where to check your schedule, he skips past the weekdays to see if you have anything to do on this weekend but they're blocked with red.

"What's with this? Why it's—" He asks June, tapping the computer screen with his finger.

"She said she's going somewhere and not to be disturbed," June answers.

"Do you know where?"

"Nope."

"Did she mention anyone going with her...?" He tries to sound casual as he asks it, pretending to not care but secretly dying to know the answer.

"She only said she's leaving for a personal matter," June simply answers, turning her computer screen facing her.

Trade is completed, he got what he wanted in return but did not quite meet his expectations. He can simply go back to your office and ask about it but he's going to be late for the interview.

As Felix stomps his way out of the office, he gets reminded of something, he opens his phone to check if it's right and he is, next Sunday is your birthday.

Felix knows almost everyone working as the concierge in your apartment building, they let him in without questions, probably thinking he's still your assistant or simply because they trust him. He doesn't know exactly when will you get back from your trip but he knows it's today because tomorrow, you have an important meeting with a client.

That's right, he eventually found that that you went on a weekend trip with a few friends to celebrate your birthday, he knows it for sure after seeing Suze's Instagram page.

So his plan for today is to prepare a welcome and birthday party at once, you'll probably be too tired to party anyway so he only set a simple celebration and a birthday cake for you.

As for the gift, he struggles so much to find one for you because one, you have everything, two, even if you don't have it, you can easily buy it yourself and third, doesn't matter what the gift is, it's the thought that counts.

He reckons, a gift that comes from the heart would make an impression on you so he baked the birthday cake himself and even bought flowers, in case the cake is a disappointment.

Is this considered as crossing the line though? He stands by his words that he's doing it out of good intentions and he hopes you see that.

He prepares everything in the kitchen, setting the cake in the middle along with the plates and cutlery, he also brings a bottle of wine that you like.

Oh, it's so convenient to know everything you like and don't like!

He's busy choosing the glasses for the wine when he hears the front door open, he doesn't know why but he decides to wait in the kitchen and surprise you when you walk in.

"Thank you," you mutter to someone, he guesses it's the doorman who helps you with your things, "And thank you for the ride home."

Oh? You can't possibly be thanking your chauffeur, right? Since when they walk you to the door of your apartment though.

"Want to come in?

"No, that's okay. You must be tired. You should get in and get some rest," the other person says.

Felix can't really see who it is but he heard this voice before. Getting curious, he walks to the foyer and keeps himself hidden behind the wall, he peeks just enough to see who you're talking to.

"What about you? You took care of everything the whole weekend and now you gave me a lift home. Must be tiring."

"Well, it's your birthday and it's the least I can do for you."

It's when he steps into the light Felix can see who it is, he stands there watching the whole interaction with jealousy in his eyes.

"I had a wonderful time. Thank you so much," you tell him.

"I'm glad you liked it and you're very welcome," Seungmin says, he then places his hand on your cheek and gives it a gentle caress.

"Don't think about it too much and just rest."

You smile as he takes your hand in his, "I'll try."

"Have a lot of rest," Seungmin says.

You nod, "Once again, thank you for everything."

"Get in and get some rest, okay? Goodnight," he says.

"Goodnight," you say back, then lean in to place a soft kiss on his cheek.

You watch him leave through the door and close it after, turning around to walk further inside to find Felix there, standing behind the kitchen island with a scowl on his angelic face.

You drop your purse onto the sofa and walk up to him, "Why are you here?"

"Are you getting back together?" Felix asks with his jaws clenched.

"I told you not to question me about it again," you calmly say, crossing your arms together in front of you.

He wants an answer but you're giving him nothing but acting like you didn't just play with his feelings, saying that you broke the engagement but now he found you doing the complete opposite.

Are you getting back together with him?" Felix accidentally raises his voice at you.

Despite him losing it right in front of you, you remain calm and do that thing where you massage your temple with your fingers which means that you're upset, or worse, stressed about something.

"You know what, Felix," You pause to exhale air and then intensely look at him, "Why is it important for you to know?"

Felix may have overstepped but now that he's done it, he may as well jump with both feet.

"Because I like you," he simply answers and since a part of it is already out, he may as well let everything out.

"You may think because it was once my job but it's not. I care about you, I think about you all the time, I worry whether you have eaten or not because when you're busy, you always forget to eat. I know everything about you, what you like, what you don't like and things in between you can tolerate. You know so little about me and that's fine, but you should know that I like you," he runs out of breath at the end of the sentence.

Instead of piling in on those words, he lets them hang in the air and eventually make their way to you, and perhaps, you get what he meant by what he said.

"I like you and you should've known that by now," He says to you, his eyes intensely staring into your eyes with either disappointment or affection, or a mix of both.

You stay quiet despite all these words he said to you, revealing what has infected his chest other than his feelings for you, there is jealousy and resentment, making a nest in the pit of his heart.

"And you know what I've only realized just now?" He pauses to let out a chuckle in disbelief, "I love you."

This is not how Felix imagined himself saying those three words for you but there he is, emptying his heart into words and hoping that you'll return it. He waits and waits, but all he hears is nothing.

"I don't— I don't know why I even tried," he mutters to himself with a dry chuckle.

Felix grabs his things and walks out of the door, and since the love is not returned, he leaves with a gaping hole in his heart and things couldn't be worse than this.

What's a better way to forget his misery than burying himself in work? He's been doing that for a week now and it works alright, well, until he comes home and is left alone with this thought again.

Tonight, he has a baseball game to cover. He could have watched the game through the live broadcast but he wants to get away from the office, not giving a chance for him to meet you or be anywhere close to you.

Being in the crowd is where he needs to be, the loud cheers help him to drown out his thoughts so he can focus on watching the game.

He jots down the important points of the game and when it ends, he hurriedly joins the other journalists to the press room to get a chance to ask the players about today's game.

As he waits with the other journalists in the room, he checks his work emails, replying to the urgent ones. He's aggressively typing on his phone when suddenly someone stops next to his chair.

He looks up to see if it's someone he knows and it is, but the one he expects to meet.

"I think I know you," Seungmin says, looking dapper in his navy blue suit and striped silk tie.

Who dressed like that to a baseball game though? Then it hits him that the home team is the one he owned and it happens that he also owned the stadium. He is in the enemy's territory here. Fuck!

"I see you're a journalist now," he says with a delighted smile.

Felix awkwardly gets up from his chair because it seems rude to keep talking to him in his seat while Seungmin is standing.

"Yes. I am," he says with a courteous smile while thinking of something to say to him.

"Congratulations on the win!" He sincerely congratulates him because his home team won the game tonight.

"What did you think of the game?" Seungmin asks, genuinely curious about his opinions whether as a sports journalist or acquaintances.

"Excellent!" He shortly replies,

"I enjoyed the game from start to finish," he immediately adds after realizing that Seungmin may mistake his eagerness for sucking up to him.

Seungmin nods and smiles so are the other two people who he assumes to be his entourage and that's what he believes is sucking up to him.

Someone appears on the podium to announce that the representative players are going to come out soon.

"Guess I have to let you do your job," Seungmin says, offering his hand for a handshake, "I can't wait to read your review of the game."

Felix shakes his hand and smiles, having nothing to say to his kind face because he expects the opposite from him, he wants Seungmin to be mean or says something coarse to him so he can hate him more. But no, Seungmin has to be a decent man and makes Felix the bad guy here.

Well, it's his fault for wanting more work and now, he has to work on the weekends too.

Felix usually hates going to prestigious events but he's attending with Mr. Kang since his wife is going out of the town for a seminar so he ended up inviting Felix as his plus one. He gladly accepted the invitation because Mr. Kang will likely introduce him to some of his friends which he can safely assume consists of acclaimed writers and journalists.

More importantly, Felix needs the distraction.

It's been a month now and he's still got nothing from you, it seems like what he said to you that night leaves no impression on you, as if those words were... nothing.

It has been a month and it haunts him still, how those words trailing behind him, unanswered.

Whenever the thought of you appears in his head, he'll swallow the bitter aftertaste that comes with it and move on with his day.

"You're dressed impeccably for the occasion, Felix," Mr. Kang says once they meet just outside the building where the event is being held, "But something about you doesn't play the part here."

It must be his mood, Felix just can't hide the fact that he's not that enthusiastic to be here. It would be unfair to Mr. Kang if he came just to ruin the night so he reminds himself to, at least, enjoy the company he's with.

"I'm just nervous, I guess," he lies, adding a sheepish smile to assure him.

"Oh, yes, I hope there's nothing else other than the nerves," he says, hinting that he's still concerned, "What about we start with a drink, eh? For the nerves?"

Felix smiles again and nods, "Lead the way, sir!"

The night gradually gets better with every person he meets and is introduced to, and every drink he takes to help him loosen up. At least that's something he can enjoy here, free drinks.

Call it a hunch but Felix knows that something will eventually ruin his night and it's walking up the stage right now to give a speech. His enemy but doesn't feel like an enemy to him, Kim Seungmin.

"Apparently, he donated a million to the sports foundation," Mr. Kang whispers, applauding for him with the rest of the people in the room.

It shouldn't offend him in any way, Felix doesn't have a million to donate to start with but every time he hears anything Kim Seungmin does, he hates it.

"The chief is also here," Mr. Kang delightfully gasps, pointing at you who stands not far from the podium where Seungmin is giving his speech.

Felix hates it more when he finds you there cheering for him with a big smile on your face.

"Let's greet her. Come on!" Mr. Kang drags him to join him walking up to you to say hi.

His heart is pitter-patting inside his chest, it's not excitement, not fear either, it's from not knowing what your reaction would be when you see or is he going to hate knowing that you don't care at all?

"How delightful to meet you here!" Mr. Kang gasps as he places his hand on your elbow.

"Oh, Mr. Kang, you're here and you're with..." your words trail off as you set your eyes on him, "... with your protégé."

Mr. Kang laughs at that and Felix should be honored to hear that he's unofficially his protégé but he's holding himself back from vomiting words at you.

"Yes, my wife is going out of town so I had the pleasure to take Felix instead," he says, glancing at Felix.

Felix gulps air and tries to remain calm, but he can't stand seeing you looking alright and acting like that night didn't bother you as much as it does to him.

"Excuse me, I have to go to the restroom," He turns around and leaves. He knows it's rude but he just can't stand it having to face you and his feelings altogether.

Instead of the restroom, he makes a turn to the bar and orders more drinks for himself, trying to drown his sorrow in alcohol. The bitter aftertaste of it is nothing compared to the realization that the hatred Felix has is not for Seungmin, it's for himself.

The next thing he knows, Felix finds himself following you and the tail of your black dress that sweeps the carpeted floor as you make your way to the restroom. Obviously, he can't go inside so he waits by the hallway, rubbing his eyes as he keeps wanting to close them, mistaking it for drowsiness.

A few minutes later, you come out holding your purse in front of you and before you can even recognize him, he grabs you by the hand and takes you to the end of the hallway.

There's no hint of surprise on your face when you finally see that it's him taking you away from the party. Gosh! He would be lying if he didn't think of kissing you, he wants to so badly.

He licks his lips like it would help him diminish the urge to kiss you and exhale air, not forgetting to slowly let go of his hand around your forearm.

"Why didn't you say anything?" He blurts out when deep down he wants to say how much he missed you.

You dare to look back at him as you lean against the wall, "What do you want me to say?" You calmly ask back.

Honestly, he wants you to say those three words back to him but that's just something he can't force out of you, but he will be fine if you only sigh in response to it, anything would do.

Anything is better than this suffocating silence.

"Do I really mean nothing to you?" He tries not to sound hopeless as he says it but failed.

"I think you're drunk," you state a fact instead of giving him the answer he seeks.

Felix is aware that he can't get what he wants by pressuring you so he tries another way. He takes your hands and holds them in his, leaning in close until his forehead is pressed against yours.

"I just don't understand... you said you broke the engagement but why are you with him?"

"I told you to trust me and you didn't," you simply answer while holding his gaze.

"How can I trust you when you can't even answer a simple question like that?"

"You didn't even give me a chance to explain," you snap, losing yourself for a moment there.

He pulls away just enough to get a good look at your face, "When did I—"

You cut him off with a sharp remark, "Maybe I was wrong about you."

"Wh–what?" He stutters, sensing the conversation is going off track, "What did you mean by that?"

"It's okay, Felix. You don't have to understand," you mutter, turning your body to leave but Felix is quick to stop you from leaving.

He holds you by the shoulders and pins you against the wall, "Say something, please," he says with an exasperated sigh, "I don't want to give up on you."

From the way your shoulders relaxed, he can see that you're softening around him, you inhale air and look at him again, "Or you can just... give up."

You take her hands and get them off you, slowly, you let them go until they return to his side. With one last look at him, you turn away from him and leave.

Felix's heart sinks deeper the farther you walk away from him and instead of making it better, things only get worse from here.

A month later, on a peaceful Monday morning, the news of you acquiring Sports One spreads on the internet and it doesn't take long for everyone in the office knows about it.

There's one question everyone is dying to know why did you bother to acquire it when it's owned by your family? Welp, Felix can only wish these curious people a lot of luck in getting an answer from you. One person though is neither surprised nor curious about it and Felix wonders if he knew about it before anyone else.

"Mr. Kang, you seem to know something we don't know," he playfully says as Mr. Kang is using the computer on the desk across from him.

Mr. Kang doesn't say anything but lowers his glasses on the bridge of his nose and lets out a chuckle, "Well, The Chief always said she wants to own the company."

"Isn't it hers already from the very beginning?" Felix's eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. He stops typing and pushes his chair away from his desk, getting a little space to breathe.

"You could say that..." Mr. Kang says without looking away from the computer, then swivels his chair to face him, "But she didn't have the full authority over the company."

"So we're under her control now?"

Mr. Kang bursts out a laugh, he takes off his glasses now and lets them hang around his neck, "Well, we have always been under her control," he states the existing fact there is.

"And you're okay with it?" Felix curiously asks.

"One thing that I know for sure is that she truly cares about the company," Mr. Kang answers without a beat.

"Why do you think she did it though?" Felix says, failing to not sound like he cares too much about it.

Mr. Kang rubs his eyes before putting his glasses back on, he flashes him a thin smile as he riffles through a stack of papers on the desk.

"People put more interest in the reason why she did it but no one says anything about how she did it on her own," he says, pausing to let out a low sigh, "She's going against her family... so I can't imagine how lonely it must be for her."

Despite the amount of information you've shared with him, Felix never really takes the time to sit and think about it. He always thinks highly of you and expects the same out of you he forgot that you're just a human with feelings and thoughts, you have your struggles, the only difference is you hide them too well, you keep them and face them yourself.

And what Felix did? He's too focused on his personal issue with you that he forgot to be the help you needed.

Besides the fact that he's tied up with work, Felix couldn't find a way to reach you since you've been absent from work for a few days now. He walks past your office this morning and it seems like you're not coming today too.

He understands that you have a lot of things to do now that you become the sole owner of the company and Mr. Kang is temporarily taking your role in the office to handle everything.

Since he only came to the office for one thing, he stops by his desk to grab his laptop and got ready to leave again to work outside of the office.

"Are you leaving?" His colleague asks from the next desk.

"Yeah, I have an interview at the hockey training," he vaguely answers while carefully placing his laptop inside his backpack.

"You're not coming to the auditorium then," he says, swiveling his chair from side to side.

He then zips his backpack and slings it on one shoulder, "Auditorium? Why?"

"Must be the chief coming with the official announcement," his colleague replies.

"Oh?" Felix stops moving altogether and without thinking, he puts his backpack down on his chair, immediately canceling his plan to leave the office.

To avoid the queue for the elevators, Felix and his colleague are going to the auditorium at the last minute but thankfully, he comes at the right time. He can hear your voice even before he enters and when he is finally inside, he sees you already taking the podium.

Gosh! He misses you so much that his heart leaps at the sight of you. Instead of getting a seat, he decides to stand on the side of the room and crosses his arms together in front of

"... make necessary changes for the better of the company," you pause talking to take a second to look at everyone in the room.

Felix knows you can't see him among hundreds or so people in the room but somehow, your eyes are looking in his direction and he feels seen. You suddenly look away and continue with your announcement.

"And so we've come to the last announcement," you continue, flipping the paper in front of you.

"As I'll be focusing and continuing my work to shape the management of our company, I've decided to step down from my current position as Editor in Chief of Sports One."

The announcement comes as shocking news and is greeted by a collective gasps. Maybe it's coming from the fact that people know you've been doing your job well and you stepped down from the job seems unnecessary, including to him.

"And I'm using this opportunity to announce that Mr. Lewis Kang will be taking my role as editor-in-chief of Sports One effective immediately," you further announce.

The other news comes as another surprise but not as shocking as your exit, everyone seems to be happy to hear about it and begin applauding.

The applause intensifies as Mr. Kang steps onto the stage, Felix joins in applauding him, he couldn't be happier to know that the right person has taken over the job. But he also can't deny that he feels a little sad that you will not be working in the office anymore.

He watches as you and Mr. Kang exchange a handshake and a smile, inaudibly muttering something to each other before taking his turn to speak on the podium.

His eyes follow you after, watching you getting off the stage and talking to your assistant. He so badly wants to talk to you but he knows that what he wants to say to you is personal, and he's at work now.

Felix finished his work as fast as he could, he's riding his bike and pushing the speed to its limits, it's unclear whether you're at home or not but it's worth a try. The concierge lets him in without questions and he's going straight into the elevator, then pushes the button to your floor.

As he stands right in front of the door of your apartment, a lot of things rushing through his head, but ultimately, how are you going to react knowing that it's him knocking on your door? The possibilities include you shut the door right to his face or you don't open the door for him at all.

Now that he has explored those possibilities in his head, he knocks on your door and gives it a few seconds before going for another try.

A moment later, he hears clicking sound from the other side of the door and the door slowly swinging open. From every reaction he pictured in his head, the one he's seeing now is not one of them.

Your eyes are glassy and both of your cheeks are wet with tears, you're crying. This is the first time he sees you crying which makes it a heartbreaking sight for him.

The first thing that gets to him is the urge to comfort you. Without thinking or second-guessing your reaction, he comes up to you and holds you.

"What's wrong? Why are you crying?" He asks while holding you tightly.

His question only makes you cry harder into his chest and then hoarsely say, "I have no one."

He gently holds your jaw and tilts your head to make you look at him, "What is it?"

With teary eyes, you look at him and swallow air to calm yourself down, then say, "I have nothing now."

"No, no," he hurriedly denies, holding your face as he stares back into your glossy eyes, "You have me."

Despite your triumph, you get nothing in return but loneliness that haunts you still. His heart breaks into a million knowing that he takes part in what caused you this much sadness.

"You still have me. I'm here for you."

He pulls you closer, holds you tighter, and uses the back of his hand to wipe the tears off your cheeks, offering you everything in him just so he can stop the sadness from taking over you.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here for you," he regretfully says, his heart shaking and aches in his chest.

"I'm sorry," he says again even though he knows how many times he says it won't change the fact that he is partly responsible for this.

You press your hand to your eyes to stop the tears from flowing and then look up at him, "I'm not getting back together with him. He was just helping me with—"

"Shh..." he hushes you, then places his hands on each side of your face, "You don't have to explain. I know."

Everything that happened, especially the bad parts, he's putting it all behind him and takes this as a lesson as he moves forward.

"I love you," he steadfastly mutters and this time, he asks nothing in return, he's saying it for the sake of letting you know that from this moment on, he'll stay by your side.

The bedsheets rustle as you squirming on the bed, your hands are interlaced with his and resting on your stomach as his mouth dives into your wetness.

Hearing your moans is like listening to his favorite song, he doesn't want it to stop so he continuously pleases you with his mouth, using his lips and tongue, alternating between sucking and licking to give you the utmost of pleasure.

"Baby oh..." you let out a broken moan as your waist is floating in the air.

He ignores it at first, thinking that you're simply reacting to him sucking on your clit.

"Baby," you whine again with your legs clamping his head in between.

Felix reluctantly lets go and looks up at you with his mouth glistening wet with your essence, checking if you're calling him to say something.

"You can take it slow, baby," You murmur as you slip your hand in his hair, "It's all yours."

It feels embarrassing that you called him out but what can he say? All he thinks about is pleasing you and he wants to do it well. Especially knowing that it's all his now and he can get as much taste as he wants.

He places a soft kiss on your inner thigh and crawls over you, then slowly putting his lips on your lips, ignoring that you can taste your arousal on him.

"How can I stop when you taste so good, mmh?" He mutters, along with a long peck on your lips.

You smile at him and it makes his heart burst, he can't help but try to catch the warmth of your smile with a haste kiss. You tug the hair on the back of his head and gently, pushing his head down.

"You can continue now," you tell him.

Oh, how he misses seeing this side of you that's bossy and confident, always telling him what to do because you know he'll do anything for you like a fool.

Felix is not afraid to say he's indeed a fool for you.

He enjoys pleasing you and he's just as pleased to know you're cumming against his mouth with your legs trembling around his shoulders. He looks up to see your mouth gaping open as a long moan escapes your mouth in one breath.

As you're slowly coming down from your high, Felix hovers above you and carefully lays himself on top of you, covering your face and neck with kisses.

The natural scent of your skin intoxicates him and gives him a sense of comfort that he can't find anywhere but there, in the crook of your neck.

"God! I missed you," He groans into your ear, letting you know how much this longing torment him.

You turn your head and capture his lips in yours, responding to his words with an eager kiss that shows how much you miss him too.

"Did you miss being inside me too?" You ask with a seductive smile.

"Oh, you have no idea!" He honestly answers with his eyes fluttering shut because he can't even picture how much he missed it, it's abundant.

"Why don't you put it in and show me how much you missed it, mmh?"

First of all, you don't have to ask for it and secondly, he'll show you alright. He crashes your lips on yours again, kisses that make you both breathless and dizzy from the lack of oxygen. He gasps for air the second he breaks the kiss.

Felix gives his throbbing cock a few pumps even though he knows how much it wants to be inside you right in this very second, he patiently takes time to tease your entrance, either with his fingers or the tip of his cock, getting you drenched in no time.

You keep arching your back at him, impatient to be filled with his length and at the same time, making him cannot wait another second to be inside you.

He aims his cock to your gushing hole and slowly pushes in, just the tip but it's only making him more impatient to push the rest of his length inside you. But he remains calm, fucking you with just the tip of his cock.

"How does it feel?" He asks you with his hands steadily keeping your legs open for him.

You look at him with innocent eyes that somehow only provoke him more, "I want more, baby."

"You want more?" He asks again with his hand tenderly rubbing your thigh.

"Yes," you innocently answer with a nod.

Since Felix wants more of you too, he gives you more of his length and looks at you again, "How about now?"

"More," you shortly reply.

"More?"

"Please..." you sweetly say, making his insides melt and arousing him at once.

He rushes to give you a kiss then says, "Your wish is my command."

Felix pushes the remaining length into you until he's buried to the hilt inside you. He bites his lips to muffle his grunt of pleasure.

"Oh, baby..." you breathlessly moan with your hands fisting the sheet underneath you as you take his whole length inside you.

He gives your thighs gentle rubs and looks down at you, "Always taking me well," he coos at you.

All of a sudden, you put your legs around his waist and pull him closer, at the same time, sending him launches deeper inside you.

You hold his chin as you place a soft kiss on his lips, "Make love to me."

You kiss him again, longer and tenderly, "Gently," you add.

Like he said, your wish is a command to him. Felix starts moving, thrusting into you at a painstakingly slow yet steady pace. His lips always latch on you, your lips, your neck, your chest, just anywhere where he can land a kiss on your soft skin.

For once, Felix doesn't want to make sex more than just a physical pursuit, he wants to make love to you like you wanted, showing you how much he loves you, cares for you, and how you'll always come first to him above everything else.

"You always feel good around me," he praises as you closes your eyes, overwhelmed with pleasure under him.

Unable to speak, you pull his head close so you can kiss him and for the rest of the night, letting him take control.

He presses his mouth to your ear and whispers, "Oh, you keep clenching around me, baby."

Your chest is heaving and your breathing is ragged, the moans spilled out of your mouth are incoherent and breathless. He knows he's doing well at getting you closer to your release so he keeps the pace and restlessly thrusts into you.

"So beautiful moaning for me like that," he coos, attentively brushing the hair out of your face.

Without stopping, he thrusts into you and lowers himself onto you to give you the closeness you seek. He kisses you and maintains eye contact with you as he once again speaks out his heart.

"I love you so much," he tells you.

From the way you keep clenching and your walls pulsating around him, he knows you're on the brink of climaxing. He kisses you hard and deep, before propping his hands against the mattress to give him the leverage he needs to keep thrusting.

"Close, mmh?"

You nod in response with your eyes fluttering shut and your hands gripping his shoulders.

"It's okay. You can let go," he tells you while picking up the pace of his thrusting.

Your moans turn into breathless cries, or that's what he think you're doing, just overwhelmed with pleasure that fills your body.

It takes a few more thrusts to get you to your release and Felix slows himself down, giving you time to relish yourself from the waves of pleasure washes over you. As he lowers his lips on you again, he finds you crying again.

Panic, he hurriedly holds you close, pulling the duvet to cover both of your bodies just in case the cold bothers you.

"Are you hurt?" His voice is heavy with concern, he's putting your hand away from your face so he can see you.

"Did I hurt you, baby?" He asks again with his hand checking every part of your body.

You shake your head with your eyes screwed shut and tears rolling down the side of your face, seeping into the pillow. It's a relief to know that he doesn't cause it but he's panicking still for not knowing why you suddenly cry.

"Don't cry, please?" He begs as he gently wipes your tears with his knuckles.

He hastily kisses you even though he can taste your tears and holds you tight, patiently waiting for you to calm down so you can tell him what made you cry this time.

"Felix," you croak as you brush your tears away with your palm.

He cradles the side of your head and looks at you with such loving, "Yes?"

You put your hand around his neck and hold his gaze, "Thank you for being here with me."

He catches your hand and kisses your knuckle, "I'll always be here for you," he assures you.

You exhale air and lick your lips before talking again, "And I know I'm late to say this but... I love you too."

To say that he's happy is an understatement, he's ecstatic, over the moon to hear you finally say those words back to him. His heart inflates and overflows with warm feelings, it would be a lie if you couldn't see hearts in his eyes as he looks at you.

"I love you so much," you say with a hand placed on his cheek and a smile on your face, making his dream come true all over again.

Knowing that his feelings are being reciprocated and Felix must say, things couldn't get any better than this.

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fluentmoviequoter · 2 days

Text

Defend Myself - Part II

Part 2 of Defend Myself

Summary: You agree to teach a self-defence class at the police station. There, you meet Tim Bradford again, as well as some unexpected guests.

Warnings: Tim gets nervous and awkward, fluff!! lots of mentions of winning fights

Word Count: 1.9k+ words

A/N: Not proofread yet! I have to go to work so I'll do it tonight. :)

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Alone in your studio classroom, you tap your toes against the floor as hold music plays from your phone. It’s been two days since you met Tim Bradford and learned about the opportunity to teach a free self-defence class at the station. As you wait to talk to the community liaison, you can’t help but think about Officer Bradford again.

“Hello,” someone greets. “Sorry about that wait.”

“No problem,” you reply. “I was calling to find out about teaching a self-defence class for the public. The officer I just spoke to told me you were the person to ask.”

“Of course. I can definitely help you with that. We’ve got several openings for community courses in the coming weeks. Are you a certified group instructor?”

“I am.”

“Perfect. That will help you get in here faster. This means your next step is just to choose a date and time and complete some paperwork. After that, we’ll spread the word in the community, find volunteers to assist you, and get everything in order before the course itself takes place.”

“Great, thank you so much. Is there any chance I could get started on the next step today?”

“Yes, we can do that. Most instructors come into the station to view the community area and complete the necessary forms, but we can send those papers over electronically as well.”

“I’d be happy to come by the station.”

“Excellent. I’m available all day today and tomorrow afternoon if you’d like?”

“Today works.”

You decide on a time with him before you end the call. After your last class of the day, you lock up and head for the Mid-Wilshire police station. Though Officer Bradford said he’d be willing to volunteer for your class, you doubt you’ll ever see him again. LA is a relatively big place, and the chances of seeing the same cop more than once can’t be very high.

At the front desk, you provide your name and the details of your appointment. You’re quickly led through a door and into a large room where police officers are milling about.

“Nice to meet you,” the community liaison greets you as he welcomes you into his office. “I’ve got your paperwork here. Just a few simple liability forms and a background check.”

“Thank you for meeting with me so quickly,” you say as you take a seat.

You begin filling out the forms as you tell him what you plan to teach. He seems impressed by your willingness to host a free session and explains that fewer and fewer people are reaching out to him, despite the compensation they offer.

“That’s the last of them,” he tells you as he accepts your final paper. “I want to get started on these right away, so I’m going to pass you off to another officer to give you the tour.”

“I appreciate that.”

You follow him to the door and see several officers talking near a glass wall.

“You mentioned Officer Bradford in your call, didn’t you?” the liaison asks.

“I did.”

“Great.”

He waves someone over, and you smile when you see Officer Bradford again. He’s not alone, but he smiles at you before he begins introductions.

“This is my watch commander, Sergeant Grey,” he tells you. “Grey, this is the woman who did my job for me at the hockey game earlier this week.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Sergeant Grey says as he shakes your hand.

“Good things I hope,” you reply.

“Of course,” Tim interjects quickly.

He seems nervous, but you brush it off as him trying to do his job and carry a conversation. In reality, Tim Bradford is awestruck by you, your abilities, and how kind and compassionate you are despite how easily you could win a fight against anyone in this station.

“Any chance you’d still be willing to help me with the class?” you ask Tim. “I’d hate to mess up and never be invited back.”

“You’d have to fire your service weapon in the station for us to not invite you back,” Wade says. “Which has happened, but we’re desperate.”

“Then I’m glad I can help. And the more people who can defend themselves, the better.”

“Right,” Tim agrees. “And, yeah, I’d be happy too. I can show you where you’ll be teaching.”

“Great!”

There’s a commotion near the door, and Tim and Sergeant Grey stand straighter as they watch. A security guard steps in with an officer, and then two cops follow on either side. Tim has positioned himself directly beside you, whether to keep you back from whatever is happening or just to get a better view you aren’t sure. When another man walks in, flanked by more security guards, you gasp and hit Tim’s arm with the back of your hand.

“Ow,” he mumbles quietly as he jerks back slightly.

“Sorry,” you whisper. “Do you know who that is?!”

“I take it you do.”

“Sergeant Grey,” an officer calls. “We’re early, I’m sorry about that.”

“No problem. We can meet in the roll call room,” Sergeant Grey replies.

Three large men stand feet away from you, and you link your fingers together as you try to hold your excitement inside. You smile at the man nearest you before you turn back to Tim.

“Bradford, can you sit in?” Grey asks. “Or do you need to finish here first?”

“Oh, please go, I can wait,” you answer for him. “They’re way more important than me.”

“I don’t know about that,” someone says beside you.

You turn to see which man spoke and laugh before you argue, “You have a game to win, Mr. Konecny, you get priority here.”

“Are you a fan?” Travis Konecny asks.

“Yes!” you answer loudly. “Sorry, I’m excited. Yes, I’m a huge Flyers fan.”

“Do you have tickets?” Sam Ersson asks from beside him.

“I do. Nosebleeds, but tickets are tickets.”

Travis clicks his tongue and looks to one of the security guards to say, “Get her a seat on the ice. And anyone else in here who wants one. Their job is much more important than ours.”

You thank him and shake his hand before he passes. As Tim leads Travis Konecny, Sam Ersson, and Jamie Drysdale into the roll call room, you wait nearby. You just met the Philadelphia Flyers! As if seeing Tim again wasn’t exciting enough, you just had a once-in-a-lifetime encounter with some of the best hockey players in the country. Maybe the day can’t get any better.

“Hey,” Tim calls as he returns. “Are you ready?”

“Sure. Thank you again, for everything,” you reply.

He nods as you stand, and then leads you through the station.

“I…” Tim begins.

“Yeah?” you encourage.

“Would you maybe want to go to the game together? They gave me a ticket too.”

“I’d love to! Are they nice? Wait, don’t tell me if they’re not.”

“They’re very nice, and they seemed very happy about meeting a fan.”

“Sorry again for hitting you.”

“It’s fine,” Tim assures with a smile. “It hurt, but that just makes me even more impressed by you.”

“Impressed?”

Tim opens a door for you and shakes his head when your eyes meet his. “Like you can’t tell.”

On the day of your self-defence class at the police station, you wake up early to prepare everything. Most of your equipment is already packed, but you want everything to go well. Once you finish this, you’ll be even closer to your date with Tim. Self-defence, an attractive man, and hockey all in one week is like a romcom made just for you.

Tim is waiting outside the door when you arrive to set up. He smiles and opens the door before he takes a bag from you. As he helps you arrange your minimal gear and go through your sets and cues in a practice run, he makes easy conversation with you. Getting to know each other seems easy, even if this is only small talk and surface questions. He’s someone worth the time and effort of learning.

When the last person leaves your class (after telling you several times about how much she enjoyed it and would like to come to another one), you sigh and shake your arms out. You had been nervous that no one would show up or that they wouldn’t like it, but you were wrong. The room was full, and everyone participated and seemed to enjoy themselves.

“That was fun,” you tell Tim. “I want to do it again.”

“Don’t say that too loud, Grey will try to make you a permanent fixture,” Tim teases.

“I might like that. Although, I’m more excited for our date.”

“Date?” Tim asks, standing up quickly. “I mean, I wanted it to be a date, but didn’t know if you were-“

You smile as you interrupt him to say, “Yeah, it’s a date, Tim.”

“Good,” Tim says softly. His smile grows as he repeats, “Good.”

The night of the Flyers game, Tim picks you up at your studio. He’s the first gentleman you’ve been on a date with in a while. Each moment with him increases your excitement for a hockey game date.

“Wait,” you tell him when he reaches for his door handle. “You’re cheering for the Flyers, right?”

“Yeah,” Tim answers slowly. “Why?”

“Because I was going to sit with someone else if you said no. Please continue.”

Tim smiles a look that knocks the breath out of you like a well-timed punch. He takes your hand and keeps it in his as he leads you to the perfect seats you were gifted. You gasp as you look out on the ice, and Tim watches you rather than the skaters warming up. One of the guys shoulder-checks his teammate before they point at each other, and you and Tim laugh with them.

“I’m pretty sure you could beat up both of them,” Tim says in your ear.

“Do you just like me for my fighting skills?” you ask, narrowing your eyes.

“Not just for that!”

You laugh and bump your shoulder against Tim’s. He takes the opportunity to wrap his arm around your shoulders, and you happily lean toward him.

“This is way better than the last hockey game I went to,” you murmur.

“That’s not a compliment,” Tim argues.

Before you can explain what you mean, the Flyers skate to the panel before you and bang on the divider. You smile and Travis, Sam, and Jamie hold up a jersey with ‘LA’s Finest’ on the back. After they skate away, a woman in a Flyers shirt approaches you and hands you a bag. Inside are two of those jerseys, and you quickly pull yours over your head.

“LA’s finest,” Tim reads. “I have to agree.”

“Back at you.”

Tim stays at your side for the entire game. You cheer together, yell together, and enjoy the night in each other’s company. You want Tim Bradford at your side for a very long time, even if he does make endless comments about who you could challenge to a fight.

“We should invite them to the wedding,” you say when the game ends.

“An entire hockey team?” Tim questions. You notice he doesn’t argue against the idea of marriage, just the number of people you’re already adding to the guest list.

“Yeah. Plus, the whole LAPD, right?”

Tim pulls you under his arm and leads you back to his truck. You can invite as many people as you want, he thinks, as long as he’s there with you.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford fic #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford #fem!reader #hanna writes✯#the rookie x reader #the rookie abc

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wilted-society · 15 hours

Text

playing with fire

pairings: mattheo riddle x reader

genre: fluff + angst

warnings: suggestive ending, cussing

— mattheo's flirtiness couldn't be held back. You decided you were fed up with it.

Hogwarts hummed with its typical vibrancy, the old stone corridors filled with the noise of students' chatter and sporadic laughter. Despite the lively surroundings, you were preoccupied with a recent confrontation with Mattheo. Your relationship, marked by a fiery mix of passion and intensity, had taken a toll on you, leaving you especially shaken and uneasy after this latest disagreement.

With a heavy heart, you strolled your way through the great hall. Stopping to sit down beside Pansy, who took notice of your unusual behavior.

"What's the matter? You usually sit next to Riddle?" Pansy questioned, seemingly oblivious but quickly realized as she noticed the tension between you two. "Oh.. Is it bad?" She whispered, to which you only replied with a weak nod.

On the other hand, Mattheo, who was sitted beside Theodore, looked your way for a moment and then went back to his food. Playing with, barely even eating any of it.

"What's happened? She usually sits right next to you." Theo furrowed his eyebrows, looking between you and Mattheo. Immediately noticing the tension. "I fucked up." was all Mattheo said, before turning back to his plate and played with his food. Theodore urged him to tell what was the reason, kept pestering him until he finally told Theo.

The fight had stemmed from a misunderstanding that quickly spiraled out of control. Mattheo had been spending more time with his Slytherin friends, particularly a girl named Cassandra, who had a reputation for being overly flirtatious.

Y/N had confronted Mattheo about it, her insecurities bubbling to the surface.

"Why do you keep spending so much time with Cassandra?" Y/N had demanded, her voice tight with jealousy. "She's all over you, and you don't seem to mind."

Mattheo had frowned, clearly taken aback by her accusation. "Cassandra's just a friend, Y/N. You're overreacting."

"Am I?" Y/N had shot back, her frustration growing. "It feels like you're pushing me away. Like you don't care about how I feel."

Mattheo's eyes had darkened with anger. "That's ridiculous. You're being paranoid. I can't have friends without you thinking the worst?"

The argument had escalated, each of them saying things they didn't truly mean. Mattheo had stormed off, leaving Y/N feeling a mix of anger, hurt, and regret. The wounds from their fight still stung, and she couldn't shake the feeling that their relationship was on shaky ground.

"Yeah you fucked up," Theodore patted Mattheo on the back, "better make it up to her then." Theo said before turning back to group, to which Mattheo sighed.

"I swear, Luna. That guy will be the death of me. He was basically eye-fucking that Cassandra, flirting with her like he doesn't have a girlfriend!" You ranted to Luna Lovegood, who was intently listening to you rambling.

Luna, perched on a windowsill with her legs crossed, watched you with her usual calm demeanor. Her big, silvery eyes were filled with empathy and a hint of concern. "That sounds incredibly frustrating, Y/N. Have you tried telling Mattheo how you feel?"

You stopped pacing and turned to face her, your frustration palpable. "I did, Luna. But he just brushed me off, saying I'm overreacting. It's like he doesn't even care how much it hurts."

Luna tilted her head, considering your words carefully. "Sometimes people act out in strange ways when they're dealing with their own insecurities. Mattheo might not realize how much his actions are affecting you."

You threw your hands up in exasperation. "Well, he needs to realize it, Luna! It's like he's purposely trying to get a reaction out of me. And it's working. I don't know how much more I can take."

Luna slipped off the windowsill and walked over to you, her movements graceful and serene. She placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Maybe he's trying to provoke you because he's unsure about his own feelings. Or maybe he's testing the boundaries of your relationship. Either way, you deserve honesty and respect."

You felt a lump forming in your throat, and tears threatened to spill over. "I just... I love him, Luna. But this is tearing me apart. Seeing him with her, laughing and flirting like I'm invisible... it hurts so much."

Luna's expression softened even more, and she pulled you into a comforting hug. "Love can be very complicated, Y/N. But you are strong, and you deserve someone who makes you feel valued and secure."

You hugged her back, feeling some of your tension ease in her calming presence. "What should I do, Luna? I don't want to lose him, but I can't keep feeling like this."

Luna stepped back and looked into your eyes, her gaze steady and wise. "You need to have a serious conversation with Mattheo. Tell him exactly how his actions are making you feel. If he truly cares for you, he'll listen and make an effort to change. If he doesn't, then you need to consider what's best for your own well-being."

You nodded, wiping away a tear. "You're right. I need to be honest with him and with myself."

Luna smiled, a soft and reassuring expression that made you feel a little lighter. "And remember, you always have friends who care about you. You're never alone in this."

"Thank you, Luna. I really needed to hear that," you said, your voice steadier now.

"Anytime, Y/N. Let's go for a walk by the lake. The fresh air might help clear your mind and give you the courage you need to face Mattheo," Luna suggested, her hand still gently resting on your arm.

You nodded, grateful for her support. "That sounds like a good idea."

"Goodnight, Luna!" You bade your goodbyes to Luna, parting ways as you strolled through the winding corridors on your way to the Slytherin dungeons.

The dim torchlight illuminated the path ahead, and the castle seemed almost alive with its shadows and quiet reverberations.As you quietly strolled, you heard a voice call out your name.

"Y/N!" It was him—Mattheo Riddle. The same voice that always had the power to make your heart race, the one that whispered sweet nothings to your ear. But tonight, his voice only stirred up more anger and heartbreak.

You chose to ignore him and kept walking, determined not to give in. "Y/N! Please, can we talk through this?" he begged, his footsteps echoing against the stone walls as he hurried to catch up.

You paused and turned to face him, a cold glint in your eye. "You better be." You narrowed your eyes at him, still furious and heartbroken.

Mattheo ran a hand through his hair, his dark eyes filled with a mix of desperation and regret. "I know I messed up, Y/N. I didn’t realize how much it would hurt you.”

Your heart wavered slightly at the sincerity in his voice, but you quickly regained your resolve. “Actions speak louder than words, Mattheo. You flirt with other girls and brush me off. How am I supposed to believe anything you say?”

He took a step closer, his presence encroaching on your space. “I’ve been an idiot, Y/N. I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just—I’ve been dealing with my own insecurities, and I wasn’t thinking straight.”

You felt a surge of frustration and sadness, but deep down, you still cared for him. “You have a funny way of showing it, Mattheo.”

He reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “I’m sorry. I never want to lose you. I just need you to understand.”

The touch of his skin against yours sent shivers down your spine. It was a soft caress, a brief moment of tenderness amidst the chaos. You felt torn between wanting to push him away and craving the intimacy that only he could provide.

His dark eyes bore into yours, his voice low and intense. “Let me make it up to you, Y/N. Let me show you how much I care.”

Your breath hitched at the suggestion, and you felt a twinge of desire creeping into your thoughts. “Show me?” you murmured, your voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.

Mattheo’s hand slid from your cheek to the small of your back, pulling you closer. “Yes. Let me prove to you that I’m worth it.”

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, heated kiss. You could feel the tension in his body as he deepened the kiss, his hands moving to caress your waist. A shiver ran through you as his touch lingered on your skin.Your resistance melted away as you responded to his kiss, feeling the need to be close to him. It was a soft, heated moment that made you forget the pain of the past few days.

Breaking the kiss, Mattheo rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your lips. You smirked, an idea—rather suggestive, came up in your head. "Lead the way, then."

And with that, Mattheo wasted no time dragging you both into his room. His smile was visible as he sprinted immediately to prove himself.

#mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #slytherin #slytherin boys #theodore nott #pansy #hp #harry potter #masterlist #fluff #smut #mattheo riddle imagines #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader

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lightbulb-warning · 17 hours

Note

What are you currently into (or even, who? 👀)? Aside from dr :)

I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED <3 <3 <3

i only first played the gay anguish timeloop game (in stars and time) like a month ago and!!!! its taken over my life!!!!!!!!!!!!

(numbers tangent for reference bc i love stats and im bad with words: i sat and counted them v approximately rlly quick and!! since the 27th of april i have filled 60 a5s with isat scribbles!! which include 13 bonnies, 14 miras, 20 odiles, 29 isas, ...99 siffrins and 102 loops!! ...WHOOPWHOOP!! digital art not included in the counting bc i got bored and didn't wanna recheck everything all over again )

*shoves siffrins in your face as a display of enthusiam*

uncompressed sifs and more rambling below!! spoiler free!! (siffrin going through the horrors is the premise of the game)

im full of earnest enjoyment for isat. i am not normal about it. i will explode at any second. i really like it when the timetravel is key in the narrative and themes and brings emotional devastation and slowly dissolves a character's sense of sanity, will, self, etcetera <3!! i also like it when the FOUND FAMILY is built before your eyes and THEY BOND and have WONDERFUL DIALOGUE that i CRY ABOUT OFTEN...!! isat has both and excels at it!!!! to me!!!!!!!!!!!!

throughout the game siffrin's the one doing the timeloops and keeping his memories, they're the one going through any actual changes (and the lackthereof) yet the rest of his party, despite being reset every time, still have a sense of progression through each act- the others develop too THROUGH their perception of siffrin if that makes sense?? am i using words correctly?? yea the others can get boring and repetitive given the TIME LOOP™ circumstances but they don't get STALE and there is development while doing the same thing over and over again!! and!!! IDK!!!!!! I THINK ITS COOL!!!!!!!!!!

the sparkly cunt's my favourite and i won't be elaborating bc ✨spoilers✨!!

i need to stop rambling bc i have finals to prepare for/pretend to not procrastinate on n shit so!! uh!! pls play isat!! enjoy some siffrins!!! THANKYU FOR STOPPING BY HAVE A NICE DAY BUHBYE---

(spinfrin unleashed!!)

#in stars and time #isat #ask maiora #maiora garrulates #maiora draws #i do have other interests. also. ask me about em in like two months when i remember once again that other things exists!!#please talk to me about isat chances are ill get overwhelmed but PLEASE TALK TO ME ABOUT ISAT #/overall tone lh

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gl1tched-g0th · 3 days

Text

Happy Pride. Can we celebrate by, just for the month, having fandoms not be weird about lesbians/lesbian-coded characters.

Can we acknowledge that just because a woman character exists, and doesn't stare directly into the camera like an episode of the Office to say "I Do Not Like Men", that doesn't mean they aren't lesbian?

Can we please acknowledge how fandoms, especially cartoon spaces, are not normal about lesbians and lesbian coding. Can we acknowledge that lesbian is not a "dirty" or "taboo" word, and that it is okay to admit that a character is just a flat out lesbian.

Can we not try to maneuver our way around it by saying "well they could be bi/pan!", like so many people do with lesbian characters. For example:

-Amity from TOH, confirmed lesbian. People still argue that she's bisexual, because she drew herself with a fictional nonbinary character from a book once in the entire show.

-Velma from Scooby Doo, confirmed lesbian. When she got confirmed, people still argued she was bi because she dated men in past shows/specials - despite her being visibly uncomfortable in the relationships in question. Some even argued it was "bi-erasure" to make her a lesbian, which is insane to me.

-Amaya from The Dragon Prince, confirmed lesbian. Before she was confirmed, people said she was a "bicon" instead of lesbian, despite her showing no interest in men within the show. All she did was have a male interpreter (because shes DEAF and needs one), and people immediately paired them together.

-Ellie Williams from TLOU, confirmed lesbian. She shows no interest in men, states multiple times that men are "not her type", has only dated/had crushes on women within all games, the show, and even the comic, and yet people still claim she's bi.

-Robin Buckley from Stranger Things, confirmed lesbian. There's not much I can say here. She came out as a lesbian in the show, and people still call her bisexual. The jokes write themselves.

-Sammy from Camp Cretaceous/Chaos Theory, lesbian-coded. She's often headcanoned as anything but lesbian, often excused with "she never Outright said she's a lesbian like Yaz said she was bi", or that a few crew members said she was meant to be ambiguous. Yet I see nobody questioning why she specifically - the only other main female character, and who has never shown interest in men - is being kept that way.

-Vanessa from The Hollow, lesbian-coded. Developed a friendship with a male character, but has never expressed romantic interest in men. Laughing at a joke made by the opposite gender, and wanting to impress a male character because of a need for validation are not signs of romantic interest, by the way.

I am not saying you can't headcanon characters as bi, or that bi people are "evil", or trying to ""police"" who you ship together or whatever else excuse people use to derail conversations about this. There is a frequent pattern within fandoms where a lesbian (coded) character exists + has any relationship with a man ever + doesn't explicitly state they don't like men = not a lesbian. And fuck, even when they DO say they don't like men, they are still seen as bi.

Queer-coding is just as eminent as having a character be confirmed as queer. And, surprisingly (sarcasm) that also applies to lesbian coded characters. Lesbian characters do not need to "prove" their lesbianism to the viewers by hating/isolating themselves from men to be lesbians. They do not need to say outright that they don't like men in order to be lesbian coded. They can have relationships with men without being romantically interested in them. Lesbians have been fighting for so long to not be seen as "needing" to be with men in order to just. exist.

And believe me I could go on a whole rant about how this entire issue has roots in misogyny within the community, or how some people still haven't unlearned the idea of how a man and woman can have an 100% platonic relationship, or how people treat calling a character lesbian as a "last resort", but this post is already a wall of text as it is.

Please just be normal about lesbians in media.

#had to refer to myself in third person here cause I want this to have reach #and it might leave the target audience #just know I hated every second of it #lesbian #lesbian pride #lesbian erasure #amity toh #velma scooby doo #amaya tdp #ellie tlou #robin stranger things #sammy gutierrez #vanessa the hollow #the hollow netflix #the hollow #camp cretaceous #jurassic world chaos theory

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queenshelby · 2 days

Text

Our Little Secret (Part 52)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Infidelity, Age-Gap, Triggers, Smut

Despite Mark's persistence however, Sean declined his offer for now, wanting to win you over fair and square, but when Mara's birthday came finally around, he was in two minds about it.

It was a Saturday morning and you were up early, preparing everything for the party. Mara was in her playpen, occupied with her toys, while you were rushing around the house, making sure everything was in order for your guests.

You were dressed in a casual summer dress and your hair was tied up in a messy bun, but you still felt self-conscious when the doorbell rang, and Sean stood there with a big smile on his face.

He had not been around Mara before but arrived early to help you with hanging decorations and preparing the food. "Hey, you look great," he said, handing you a bunch of sunflowers making you smile softly.

"Thanks, so do you," you replied, admiring his button-down shirt and jeans even though the moment was short-lived.

You led the way into the living room where you had a designated area for the kids' party. "I thought it would be best to keep it separate from the rest of the house so we don't end up with sticky fingers all over," you chuckled to yourself.

"A room full of toddlers, huh? Sounds fabulous," Sean joked, looking slightly nervous at the sight of the colorful balloons and animal balloon sculptures scattered around the room.

"Oh, don't worry. They're all really well-behaved, trust me. Mara is actually the most boisterous one of them all," you laughed, feeling yourself relax a little more in Sean's presence.

"That's good to know," he said, taking a deep breath with a nervous smile on his face. "So, uhm, just checking, what did you tell people about us? Because, I know that your ex's family is coming and all, so I just don't want to cause any awkwardness or something," Sean inquired, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

"I told them that you are a friend of mine, who has been helpful lately, and that you are coming over to help me set up and all. I didn't mention anything about us being together, you know?" you told him, feeling the need to reassure him once again.

"Yeah, I figured as much. I just wanted to make sure," he said, nodding his head in response.

"I am sorry Sean, it's just, Cillian wouldn't even agree to you being here, around Mara, unless I kept this platonic and I can understand him too," you told him sympathetically, understanding the frustration he was feeling.

"Why do you care so much about what he wants

, though? Surely he should be happy for you, if you have found someone else that you like?" he asked, a slight note of confusion in his voice.

"Sometimes, it's complicated Sean. Cillian and I are working through things and, to tell you the truth, since you and me aren't in a relationship, I too want to keep this platonic for Mara's sake. It would just confuse her, you know," you tried to explain, being as honest as you could.

Sean didn't seem totally satisfied with your answer, but he understood where you were coming from and decided to drop the subject for now. You both worked in silence for a while, hanging decorations and setting up tables, but there was an underlying tension between you.

As you were arranging the food on the table, the doorbell rang and you felt your heart skip a beat at the thought of Cillian's mother arriving. However, it was just your best friend Emma.

"Where is my favorite Babygirl?" she grinned, taking Mara from her playpen and blowing raspberries on her chubby cheeks.

You couldn't help but laugh at the sight of your best friend, who had known you since you were in high school, playing with Mara. You two had been through so much together and you were grateful to have her in your life.

"I have a super cool present for you," she winked, pulling a wrapped gift from her bag.

"Oh my god, Emma, you didn't have to. But I am so excited to see what it is," you grinned, helping Mara opening her first present for the day, inside of which was a beautiful stuffed giraffe , complete with a pair of pink and white crocheted booties.

"Gigi," Mara smiled, which was what she had called the giraffes at the zoo , her favorite animal.

"I know. Isn't she beautiful?" she said, pointing at the stuffed animal in Mara's arms, already covered with enthusiastic kisses from your daughter.

"Best friend ever," you smiled, hugging Emma tightly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Emma said warmly before turning to Sean, introducing herself for the second time around, the first time having been at the nightclub where you had met him.

"Is Cillian okay with this?" Emma asked, eyeing Sean up and down.

"Yes, I cleared it with him," you told her which is when, again, the doorbell rang and more guests began to arrive one by one.

Sean remained helpful and kind, keeping his distance from your friends but assisting where needed. You watched him from across the room as he chatted with some people, sipping on his beer, wearing a polite smile on his face. He looked so at ease that you almost forgot about your complicated arrangement until, an hour into the party, the door went off once more.

"I will get it," Sean offered, seeing how busy you were with Mara and her toddler friends. You nodded appreciatively, relieved to have some extra help at the party. As he opened the door, he was greeted by the sight of Cillian who was meant to be in the UK, filming.

Surprised, Sean took a step back while Cillian stood in the doorway, his eyes narrowed as he looked at Sean.

"Sean," Cillian said with restrained hostility as he walked inside.

Sean tried to keep his cool but couldn't help feeling nervous at Cillian's presence.

"Cillian, what are you doing here?" you asked, surprised, as you made your way over to him.

"Well, I decided to surprise Mara for her birthday. I'm only here for the day though. I got to go back tonight," Cillian explained, unable to take his eyes off Sean and you could sense the tension in the air growing with every passing second.

"Well, I am glad you could make it," you said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Mara is over there if you want to say hi to her," you gestured towards the living room where the children's party was happening.

Cillian hesitated for a moment before nodding and making his way towards the noise and laughter emanating from the other room.

"There she is," he smiled, picking up Mara and kissing her chubby cheeks. "My little princess," he said as Mara beamed at her father and hugged him tightly. "Happy birthday Sweetie," he told Mara who went straight for Cillian's hair.

"Dada," she grinned, running her tiny hands over the shaved sides on his head, which was clearly a haircut she wasn't too fond about. "I've missed you Babygirl," Cillian told her affectionately, noticing how Mara's eyes brightened at the sight of him. "Missed me too, huh?" he teased, receiving an adorable giggle in response and, just as you watched this tender moment unfold, you felt a swirl of emotions in the pit of your stomach. You were glad that Mara had her father there for her birthday while Sean, on the other hand, seemed displeased.

It was clear that he felt uncomfortable around Cillian, and you couldn't blame him. After all, you were still unsure about where you stood with both men, and you knew that keeping a clear mind would be crucial to avoid making any unnecessary mistakes.

As the party progressed, you found yourself caught in a never-ending cycle of keeping a close eye on Mara and making sure that Sean was relaxed and enjoying himself while Cillian socialised with his family and the people around him.

Mara clung to her father, clearly pleased to see him and looking adorable in her brand new party dress, complete with a matching headband and shoes. Her laughter filled the air as she played with the other children, who seemed equally delighted to have Cillian there as he was fabulous with young kids, engaging with them in their games and being purposely silly and entertaining.

Sean, on the other hand, remained somewhat reserved, occasionally joining in conversations but mostly standing off to the side, observing everything. You caught his gaze several times throughout the party, noticing the steady glance he gave you, the subtle twitching of his lips, and the raised eyebrow.

It was as if he could see the turmoil brewing within you, sensing the conflict that raged on inside. You wondered if he knew that you were struggling with your feelings. To what extent and in what ways was he aware of your internal struggle? His knowledge about you had been growing with each passing day, and that realization terrified you. He had been observant and intuitive, but was stopped short of fully understanding what was going on within you. You felt safe, yet vulnerable, anticipating the reckoning that was surely coming.

Cillian's attention seemed focused solely on Mara as she was having the time of her life, laughing joyously and blissfully oblivious to the drama unfolding between her parents. The laughter and chatter of the other children echoed throughout the room, punctuated by sporadic fits of giggles that seemed amplified because of the sheer innocence of their pleasures.

"She is growing up so fast," Cillian murmured, standing up from the floor and watching as Mara sat amongst the other kids her age, playing with blocks. "And yet, I feel like I haven't been here for any part of it lately," he added softly, the regret in his voice unmistakable as he turned his gaze toward you.

"I should have declined that role, Y/N. I've missed so much," he sighed, his eyes searching your face for any hint of understanding. "Only being here every fortnight isn't good enough," he told you, not knowing that Sean was listening in, and you said nothing for a moment, merely holding his gaze as you reflected on his words.

"Life happens, Cillian," you said finally, opting to keep your tone light and neutral to avoid causing any unnecessary drama. "This is your career and we knew this before we brought Mara into this world. In fact, we talked about the logistics of it many times," you explained gently, trying to make him understand, knowing that this was an important point for him.

"I know, but I would be lying if I said that I didn't miss seeing her every second day or so," Cillian sighed, his eyes softening, "It's just, I don't. It's hard I suppose," he admitted, looking away briefly before turning back to meet your gaze.

"You know, after my final exams next week and the wedding the week after, Mara and I could stay in Liverpool for a bit," you proposed, thinking that it would be good for Mara to have more time with her father. "After filming, you could spend some time with her, just for an hour or so, and I could take her to the zoo over there and all the other cool places during the day while you are on set," you added enthused, wanting Mara to have a good relationship with her father.

Cillian looked surprised but also pleased at the idea. "Really? That would be great, Y/N. Not just for Mara, but for me too," he admitted, smiling at you fondly. "I could rent you a unit and car and you could cruise around with Mara during the day. Maybe the two of you could even visit me on set, unless you think that's weird," Cillian offered, taking another sip of his beer.

You shook your head and smiled at him. "No, not weird at all. Unless it's weird for you," you said, seeing how you were no longer together and Mara's visit could even affect his performance on set.

"I think it would be fine. I would love to see her, even if it's just for a little while," he replied with a smile, touching your arm affectionately. You noticed the way Sean was watching you, the subtle tightening of his jaw and the narrowing of his eyes. You pulled your arm away, feeling suddenly uncomfortable under his gaze.

"Alright, let's plan it out then," you said, changing the subject before Cillian could say anything else. "I'll call you next week and we can arrange everything."

Cillian nodded, seemingly satisfied with your response. "Sounds good," he said before making his way back to Mara while you went and stood next to Sean who was nursing a beer.

"I should go," Sean said after a little while, breaking the silence and you were too busy to notice that he was struggling internally.

"Of course, you don't have to stay," you said, offering him an easy exit.

Sean hesitated for a moment before nodding and making his way towards the door.

You followed him, feeling a sense of guilt wash over you. You had known that inviting Sean to the party would make things complicated, but you hadn't expected it to be this difficult.

"I am sorry Sean. I didn't mean for things to get so awkward," you said softly, as you stood by the entrance.

"It's fine. I knew what I was getting myself into, although I didn't expect HIM to come," Sean replied, his voice low and gruff as he looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger, sadness, and something else that you couldn't quite put your finger on.

"I know, but he is Mara's father and I am glad he came, for her," you said, your voice barely audible as you stood just a few feet away from him, feeling the tension between you grow thicker.

Sean sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair, looking you in the eye for a long moment, before replying, "I know, you're right, and I should just leave. But, I hate to admit it, his presence makes me feel like you still belong to him and it bothers me," he admitted and, with that, the tension between the two of you grew palpable like a storm on the horizon.

Feeling the weight of the situation bearing down upon you, you glanced back into the room, wishing that Cillian could somehow disappear, like a mirage in the desert heat, leaving both you and Sean alone, untouched by the web of complications that had ensnared you both. But, you knew better.

"I belong to no one Sean," you spoke softly, feeling a sickness rise in your throat at the thought. "Not to Cillian, or you either. I have a life of my own to live."

Your words hung heavy in the humid air, letting the weight of their meaning sink in. Sean looked at you with a troubled gaze, unsure of how to respond.

"I will call you tomorrow?" he then simply asked, causing a flash of confusion in your mind.

"Sure, I would appreciate that," you managed to say before Sean disappeared and drove off in his car. You returned to the party, feeling lost and confused, trying to shake off the awkward energy that lingered between you and Sean.

Sean, on the other hand, made a call to his friend Mark. "Fuck morals. I am done playing nice. Give me all the dirt you can find on him," he demanded, wasting no time to beat around the bush.

Tags:

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#cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy

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hyukascampfire · 2 days

Text

To: Someone From a Warm Climate

wc: 7.5k

my works are NOT meant to be accurate representations of any idols. i do not claim them to be as such. they are works of purely fiction.

genre: smut, angst, fantasy violence

pairings: faerie!taehyun x human!reader

synopsis: a life lived as a human among the fae is one hard-earned. the folk are built of indescribable beauty, and of debauchery and mischief. for some, a life lived subservient to the folk is just fine; but to those who dream of something more, they would spend their lives clawing and biting to make it happen.

a/n: okay i am actually so obsessed with a icy and mean taehyun. like genuinely it is rotting my brain LMAO

! warnings: violence, blood is drawn, some heated kissing and groping, a magic spell is placed over a human character, fem reader

The stale reek of the ancient, crumbling palace walls makes it feel increasingly like they are closing in on me, as I trail only a foot behind the odd goblin spy. He is quiet, relatively short in stature and quite grubby. I had plenty of reasons to be scared of him; a royal spy, no doubt lethal in skill, who could probably spin around and end my life the second he decided he didn’t like me. But I wasn’t scared of him—no, my brain is quintessentially human, and more scared of whether or not the rest of them would find me up to their standards when we arrived there.

Growing up among the folk was, in an understatement, challenging. They were of a different nature. They did not understand the rules of the human world, and could never understand my resentment for being spirited away. They would argue that it was a blessing, that I would one day grovel at the feet of the faerie that had stolen me here all those years ago. I grew to hate all things faerie, a potent seed nurtured in my mind the more Nut-hatch made me sew the gowns she couldn’t manage, until my fingers were bleeding and sore. Who could not adore a life spent at the beck and call of the faerie that snatched you right from your cradle?

I trip over a loose, fractured stone, reaching out for a wall to catch myself. I hiss as my palm stings, re-steadying myself and spinning my hand over to inspect the burning scrapes. Blood wells around shallow scrapes, but I force my legs back into motion when I notice the stout goblin still making his way down the passage.

“And you expect to be a spy,” the goblin laughs, a throaty and irritating sound, “crying over a superficial scuff.” He does not even turn around to address me, but I can’t say I expected that. I had done nothing to earn his respect. I hope to change that.

Instead of defending myself, and making myself sound pathetic, I just stop nursing the scrape. The walk is long, and I find my mind wandering to ways this could play out. Many of them do not end well. I squeeze my eyes shut, gulping down a swallow despite the tightness in my throat. When I feel my foot catching on flat ground again, nearly toppling forward, my eyes lurch open. Don’t close your eyes walking down the halls of decrepit old castles, idiot.

He makes a stop a few feet ahead of me, just before a towering, ornate and heavy elmwood door. The metal handles are scuffed to the point that they are utterly dull and reflect little light, and there are four long gashes that splinter the wood. Wild gashes like that could only have been carved by a beast of Faerie origin.

“So, this is the entrance?” I ask, catching up to him. I gesture at the door in front of us.

He levels me a stare, a crooked grin tugging at his mouth, a yellowed canine so sharp it would pierce my jugular with little resistance peeking out. I squirm under his glare, yellow eyes scrutinizing me for a moment.

“More like this,” he says simply, looking pointedly at a slate tile at his feet. I sigh. I suppose I should’ve inferred that the entrance of a royal spy den is not just a door with no visible locks or veiling. I watch as he dislodges the loose tile from the ground with practiced ease, a heavy hunk of stone that reveals a set of stairs leading down into the ground. The palace they had decided to conceal the den within is no doubt timeworn, but the staircase I look at now seems to be built much more recently. The stone is significantly less worn and eroded, save for the dirt that caked the tops of each step.

I frown at the prospect of heading down without even so much as a torch on the wall. “How deep is that staircase?” I ask. The goblin had already begun descending, pausing at the third step with visible impatience.

“Oh, just get down here, won’t you?” he grumbles. “This damned stone is heavy.” I observe the utter pitch black of the stairwell for a moment, before relenting and descending into it. The sound of stone grinding and the light weaning to nothingness unsettles me as he slides the coverstone back over the entrance.

“I can’t see shit.” I say. He curses me out under his breath before he grabs me by the meat of my arm with gnarled, calloused fingers, tugging me forward and down the steps. I protest as I almost slip off the ledge of a step, stumbling down each descending one for a few moments until we come to another stop. I sit in waiting for whatever he is doing in the pitch black, breathing in the air thick with the smell of mud and all things earthy, without questioning him again. I do not intend to come off as any more incapable than I already had made myself look. My stomach is tied in such tangled up knots that I don’t know how to act right; how to act like the capable spy that I had painted myself to be in order to even end in this decaying palace. I wonder if he is second guessing his decision in even bringing me here. I hold my head up a little more, squaring my shoulders.

A resounding pattern of knocks bounces off the dirt walls surrounding us, and the sound of muffled words spoken follow, before a soft yellow light luminates our surroundings as a peephole slides open. I blink my eyes to readjust, taking in my surroundings for the first time since that stone snuffed the light out. A rickety, rotting wood door stands before us, oddly shaped to fit the round, burrowed out dirt hollow. The light filtering in from behind the door disappears when somebody peeks through it. No words are even exchanged before a metal sliding bolt unlocks, and the round door swings open. I squint my eyes in the light.

“This is her?” A reedy faerie stands holding the door open, her skin a pale green and with an iridescent sheen to it. The hood from the cloak around her shoulders is tugged over her head, but I can see the way she takes me in even through the shadow it casts.

“Something wrong?” The goblin asks, shoving his way past the long limbed sprite. I stay put, not wanting to just barrel my way in.

She scrutinizes me for a moment longer, shrugging. “No,” she says, lips pursed, “just a bit…” She hesitates on the wording. “Underwhelming?” She leaves the door to follow him in. I gnaw at my cheeks. I am used to being lackluster—I was raised from infancy here, in a world of beings that redefined the meaning of beauty. Humans could be beautiful, yeah. But it was not the beauty of starless nights for eyes, nor of flower-petal skin, and never hair of twinkling, gold-spun strands. Human beauty could only ever exist in the four-walled prison of facial symmetry and physical attraction. Even the most gritty of the folk had a certain air of ethereal about them, worted and twisted as they may be. I resent them every day for it.

Their little hideout is humble. It smells of old wood, and furniture was limited. The two of them sit at a square table to the center of the room, leaving three other seats empty. I mull over whether or not simply taking a seat next to them would be offensive, before just shoving my nerves down with a foot long stick and just sitting. The sprite girl tugs her hood off her head, revealing a head of tousled white hair, except for horizontal stripes of black that decorate some chunks. Her eyelashes are chunky, spidery, and curled, so long they tickle her brow with each blink, and they frame the green pair of eyes not too different in tone from her skin. She sits nonchalant and kicked back in the chair, chunky boots up and criss-crossed on the table.

“This is the place where you’ll meet us,” she says, addressing me finally. She wiggles a foot as if this conversation is the last she’d like to be having. I pause inwardly—I had thought this would be some sort of rugged, skill-testing spy interview, not initiation. “You’ll meet the others whenever they–”

I cut her off. “Aren’t you going to ask me about my qualifications?”

She quirks a delicate brow.

“Or, like, test me? Or something?” I say. The two of them share a look, before breaking out into snorts and giggles. I shift in my seat, frowning. There was nothing funny about my questions.

“We would have never even brought you down here if we didn’t already decide on you,” the sprite girl says, and then gestures at the goblin, “We heard plenty of you from Gristle.”

I take in the goblin as he sputters to explain himself, embarrassed how the sprite had made it seem like he was raving. Gristle was his name, then. “We needed a human counterpart,” he says, pointing a clawed finger at the sprite girl. “Nobody else was doing the heavy lifting in recruiting. You try and see how it is, then.” He huffs, voice gravelly. “We needed one, and I brought you one.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, voice softening to the soft tone reminiscent of the one used to soothe a tantruming toddler. “You sure did, Gristle.” She flexes her booted foot to point in my direction, “But did you bring us a competent one?”

I cross my arms across my chest, narrowing my eyes. “I’m plenty competent,” I say. Sure, I was just some inconsequential servant girl of a busy seamstress faerie. But I needed to make something more of myself. I could learn anything, if it meant that. “You don’t have to worry about me running off and telling anybody anything.”

She barks a laugh, as if the notion was ridiculous, “Well, I should know that, because I assume you value your life well enough.” She lets her feet drop off the table, prowling toward me, before sliding an ornate dagger from its sheath at her hip and brandishing it to me. “But could you even hold your own if someone engages you out in the field?” She then drives the thick pommel of it into my chin. My head snaps back with the force of the strike, and I can feel by the warm trickle of blood that it busted my chin open.

I look at her, wild-eyed and accusatory. My jaw aches as I open my mouth to ask, “What was that?” A trail of thick blood runs down my neck, and she just scoffs.

“Figures.” The sprite sheaths the dagger, dropping back into her seat unceremoniously as if she did not just bash me in the chin.

“I don’t know how to fight yet,” I say, wiping at my neck. I bring my hand up to check the damage, hissing through my teeth as I prod around the gash. I shake my shoulders, as if it would shake off the searing pain running up and down my jaw, before adding, “But I can learn. I will learn.” Gristle tosses me a rag he had retrieved silently from a drawer, his mouth pulled taut into a line. I wipe up the remnants of the blood, the metallic tang of it finally reaching my nose. I shudder as I press the rag to the wound and hold it there.

“Now, that’s what I’m talking about,” Gristle cracks, his grin toothy. “We weren’t going to find humans who could already fight,” he says, a fur-tipped ear twitching, “but one willing to learn…” He looks at me, and then returns his gaze to the sprite. “We can work with that, Cricket.” When her face stays drawn, he repeats, “We can work with it.” His yellow saucer eyes are serious.

Cricket doesn’t say anything; her grassy eyes simply go distant with thought for a moment. It was true; humans were not brought to the world of Faerie to learn to fight. Or to be anything more than servants, at that. The luckiest ones, like me, were at the very least schooled on reading and faerie histories. Lucky would be an overstatement, though. Nobody stolen from their homes, and then forced to accept a reality in a foreign world, was genuinely lucky. Despite it, I no longer dream of the life I could’ve had in the human world. It is not my life. It will never be my life. And, considering the look that Cricket and Gristle share, my life is now to be the human counterpart of a royal band of spies.

“Do you know how an oath works?” Cricket asks, pulling out that same embellished dagger and spinning it between two fingers. I hesitate before nodding. I didn’t, and she seems to read right through me and narrows her eyes at me.

“First of all, don’t lie. Never lie. We have to be able to trust each other.” She says, still spinning that glittering dagger utterly nonchalant. “You’ll want our trust when you’re on the field and need your back covered. Not knowing how to officiate an oath is one thing,” she stops spinning the blade to point it at me, “lying to me is another.”

I shake off the embarrassment that crawls up my throat, “I’m sorry. I want you guys to trust me.”

“Trust is especially important with you,” she says. And it’s true, humans can lie blatantly by mouth. The folk could twist truths to deceive, and bend over backwards to make one thing sound like another, but they could not just lie. In my schooling years, it was taught that a lie was simply against faerie nature. I had laughed at that—if anything seemed to be in faerie nature, it was lying.

“We can start our trust,” she gestures with one finger between herself and I, “on the right foot with a geas.” She takes my arm that is not holding the rag and tugs it toward her. I struggle with the word geas. A geas is a faerie ensorcelement the folk dearly love subjecting humans, who did not know any better, to. They sweet-talk them into it, and when the human was fully ensorcelled, the human became a living plaything; to make dance unabashedly and kiss the dirt off their boots. The term leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

“An oath and a geas are not interchangeable,” I say, wary and preparing to take my arm back. “Which is it?”

She rolls her eyes. “An oath means nothing to a human.” She looks to Gristle for support, “Right or wrong, Gristle?”

“Leave me out of it.”

Cricket just laughs. “We just have to get some type of insurance,” she starts, “so that I won’t have to end up tying up loose ends.” A knock rings through the room, that same rhythmic knock that Gristle had performed on the door. Gristle simply clambers over to the door and slides the peephole open.

“Decided to show up to work today?” Gristle says through the peephole, before sliding the hatch open. I look away from the door before seeing who enters, as Cricket grows impatient, spinning my arm so that my palm is facing the roof. She takes her dagger and slides it across the delicate skin of my palm. I try to reclaim my hand, but she holds it steady and slides a slit across her own palm.

“Are you guys trying to bleed me for every drop I have?” I protest. I could probably count the amount of wounds I was inflicted with since stepping into the palace on two hands. I watch as she clasps our hands together, mushing our wounds, still seeping blood, together.

I had forgotten about the knock at the door until a new voice, with a deep and silvery quality to it, asks, “Trying to do it before I could get here, Cricket?” The voice travels from behind me to in front of me, and the man behind it comes into view. He was relatively tall, towering over Gristle, and quite a bit taller than Cricket. His hair is dark, hanging over a pair of sharp eyes that glare daggers at Cricket. I thank all things good that he was not leveling me with that icy smolder. He is notably less armed than the other two, with just a bow at his back. No doubt some discreet daggers here and there, though. And, most of all, his ears are the distinct rounded form of a human’s ear.

“This,” Cricket gestures with an exasperated arm, “is Taehyun.” If the roundness of his ears were not already telling, the name was. He was human. I frown, retracting my hand.

“I thought you guys were looking for a human counterpart? That you had no human piece?”

The quickness that Cricket was trying to get a geas over me was already unnerving, but now they were lying about the circumstances of my recruitment?

Cricket gives Taehyun a look that could match the heat of a thousand suns. Taehyun’s face is stony and unmoving. Gristle does not make so much as a peep.

“Taehyun,” she takes my wounded hand into her own again, “is faerie.”

“What about his ears, then?” I make a gesture around my own ear, one that drags along the round curve of it. Faeries were not born with rounded ears, not the goblins, nor the hobs, nor brownies, not even ones that are the most humanlike in nature. I had seen folk with knives for teeth, skin of boulders, hair from ear to clawed foot, but never rounded ears. It was another intrinsic piece of their nature; what set me apart from them. He was absolutely a human, and they were absolutely liars. They had to have spoken their words in a way that made one thing seem like another, spun truths into lies. It was the faerie way. I would not be magically compelled by liars. Taehyun’s face flashes with the first emotion I had seen since he arrived, but it is muddled and hard to read.

Cricket scowls deeper, “He is not a human.”

Taehyun gets in closer, his eyes venomous. “You know how I feel about that shit.”

I try to decipher whether he meant being human, or the geas, but his next words solve it for me. “And you were going to try and do it before I could say anything.” When Cricket opens her mouth to say something, he cuts her off, “Don’t you say that’s not true.”

Cricket turns to me, decidedly not responding to Taehyun. “I want the geas, because it will make us feel safer. I swear on the Mighty King’s life that I will not use it to control you in any way, other than to keep your mouth shut about our operations. You will not hear another thing of it from this day forward, anyway.” Her words are proof enough of her honesty, plain and so obvious in their wording that she could not be twisting her truths around a lie. She means what she says, or else she would not be able to say it. “Would it make you feel better if you were the one to make it, Taehyun? Would you just shut up, and let us move on from this?” She asks. Gristle feels the tension as bad as I do, so thick in the air you could choke on it, making himself busy sliding a blade down a sharpening stone.

Taehyun does not respond, his black eyes conveying exactly how he feels about that. I attempt to ease the atmosphere, while also catering to my own curiosities, “How is he a faerie, with rounded ears? That doesn’t…” Taehyun’s eyes flicker at the topic of his ears again. “Exist.”

“Well, it seems you don’t know all that you think you do about Faerie then, huh?” Taehyun spits. He spins, and begins for a hall that leads further into the spy den, long legs clad in black striding near silently beneath him. The words crawl under my skin successfully. I could spend my whole life here, and still the folk would see me as foreign. It makes me want to make that geas, to make something of myself. To be a spy, and make them see that I am so much more than what Nut-hatch told me I was destined to be: a servant to the superior beings. To make him chew his words, because I knew plenty about this foul world, and how to live in it. If anything was true, it was true that I knew more about it than him.

I turn to Cricket, more determination in me now than I even had when I pledged my case to Gristle. “I’ll take the geas. I’ll do whatever it takes to become a competent piece of your team, I swear it. I know my words don’t carry much weight to you, but please, let me show you that I mean them.” Cricket grins, tightening her hand to mine, tilting her head to one side and batting her spiky lashes at me.

“I knew you were a smart girl,” she taps me on the nose, before her expression drops to a more solemn one. The odd headiness of faerie enchantment tugs at the sides of my vision, turning it wavy and magnified about the edges. I feel it thread through the air, and then spread from my palm up my arm, and then all over, under my skin, like an itch, and in my head, like potent faerie wine. It lasts for a moment’s width longer, before I blink it away. She drops her hand from mine.

“You will not speak of this team, nor its operations, to anybody I do not authorize, and are, from this exact moment forward, unable to reveal the location of our center of operations.” I shudder under the gravity of knowing my autonomy is vulnerable, and in her hands. Was it ever truly mine to have, though? Faerie glamour and enchantments on humans were unpunishable, and often seen as entertainments. Is a geas permanent? I shove back that worry; it is too late now.

Gristle whistles a descending tone, finally making himself known again. “This place, we call Homebase. Or, The Hole. Whichever you prefer,” he gestures around, and I take in the shoddy ceiling, the make-shift kitchen, and the weapons strewn about every surface. Definitely a spy hideout. “There are a few others for you to meet. They come and go; but you’ll be staying here, I understand?” I nod. He knew about my situation with Nut-hatch already. “Okay, then. Let’s get you a room,” he hobbles to that hallway Taehyun had stormed down, his gold-embroidered cloak dragging on the floor behind him. I follow, scoping out the scenery.

“Do the others not stay here?” We continue down that same hall, the smell of underground musk still heavy. That would take me some getting used to.

He grunts in affirmation. “Whoever you met today, stay here. The others dwell elsewhere, for some reason or another.” He stops at a room, and opens the door. The room is ornate in contrast with the other rooms of The Hole, the bedding plush and made of fine threads. It was not anything overly extravagant, but perfectly fit for a spy of The King. It is better than sleeping in the sweltering-hot attic of Nut-hatch’s cottage, I decide, appreciating the cool and damp air. And here, they decided I am worthy enough of my own room. That is more than enough for me.

“But, you’ll meet them tomorrow, no doubt. Make this room your own, I’ll fetch some more fitting garments for you,” he gestures loosely down to the simple linen frock I adorn. I feel the odd tickle of embarrassment at the back of my mind. The irony of my attire, while living under the roof of an esteemed seamstress, is hard to ignore. Nut-hatch had always liked to scold me up and down that there was no need to look frilly working at a gown shop, while simultaneously being dressed in ribbons and lace. I take a deep breath of linen-scented air, and then release it. And then, I get to work in making the room my own.

❈

I do my best to plant my booted foot to the ground, to save myself from anxiously toeing dirt or stone. The clothes they brought for me were odd and foreign, as a girl who quite literally only wore the most efficient of dresses, and leather slippers on my feet for the entirety of my life leading up to this moment. The mask and the thin, hooded cloak bunch around my neck and shoulders are stifling, the boots are so heavy and chunky that they chastely kiss the ground when I step. It trips me up. The sensation of pant legs securing my thighs and shins is suffocating, and the weight of the weapons secured by straps are heavier than I’d ever expected them to be. And, to top it all off beautifully, my first assignment is with Taehyun. We’re supposed to be heading north, to the land of the hoarfrost, where the folk are Unseelie, and are said to be the most vicious. I’d already let that thought sink in, though. Now, all I can mull over is spending the trip with Taehyun; the disgust he had regarded me with before he left last night is still burnt bright into my mind.

Lightweight footsteps approach behind me, and I know it’s Taehyun.. He plops a pack on the ground wordlessly, before tugging the hood of his mantle up and over his head. He is, like yesterday, fashioned in a black tunic and a matching doublet, embroidered with silver threads at the lapel and cuffs, a heavy bow strapped to his back.

I cross my arms over my chest, before gesturing to the bag I had already packed for myself, “I packed.”

He sends a vacant look to me. “Put that one back.” He says. The air is so tense, I consider just doing it, but his tone ruffles my feathers.

“I have stuff that I want to bring in mine.” He doesn’t respond, his face resound and unforgiving. “Look,” I huff, “I know you don’t respect me yet, but I’m trying my best to become competent, you know?”

“I respect you,” he picks up the pack he brought me, and dusts the bottom off. “You would freeze to the core in the north without the stuff packed in here. Competence is nothing to a corpse.”

I blink at the bluntness of his words. I press my mouth into a thin line, before placing my original bag on the table and slinging the other over my shoulder. I gesture for him to lead the way, and he does so without falter; and so we start our trek off to a splendid start.

❈

There is plenty of time to mull over what we would be doing in the north as Taehyun leads us through the lush forest, where the hum of insects and nearby streams, and the cloying scent of summer-warmed bushberries, reign supreme. When my stomach begins to rumble for not having eaten all day, I stop by a bush with exceptionally heavy branches and begin picking. The juice of the berries is thick and golden, like honey, when they mush between my fingers, and it glitters in the odd way that faerie fruit does.

“Are you dull?” Taehyun’s voice, thick with contempt, makes me jump and lose my handful of berries. “That is a Goldhip bush,” he says, his strong brows pinched, “you would die without even a sign; just drop dead to the grass.” He scoffs, before spinning and heading the same way he was going before I decided to grab fistfuls of, apparently, intensely poisonous berries. I follow him, shaken.

“I had no idea,” I say, mostly to myself, but he stops, turning on me.

“You can’t afford having no idea out here. You’re going to have to step up to your role, now.” He gives me a long look, before turning back around and stepping over a felled log.

I step over the log as well. “I didn’t really have any reasons to know your poisons in my old life,” I say. Nut-hatch at least fed me well. I set my pace so that I am parallel to him, instead of trailing him. “What are the ones I should know?”

He doesn’t even pause to think for a moment. “Goldhip berries are turned into a liquid extract, and dropped into drinks. It does not have a smell, but has a sickly sweet taste. It doesn’t matter by the time the recipient tastes it, though; they’re as good as dead.” A chill burrows its way under my skin. I had been so close to death; had I just popped a berry into my mouth, I would be dead right now.

“How would you even avoid being poisoned by that, then?”

“You don’t.” He deadpans. “It’s why you have to stay always painfully aware of your surroundings. Always.” I nod.

“Silver and salt are poison to the folk. They singe the skin, and in cases of ingestion, they decay the insides. It’d be best if you use that to your advantage. A poison that is harmless to you, but deadly to another, is an asset.” I clasp my hands and thank the sky inwardly, at that. It feels like an ah-hah moment, to have something over the folk. Small mercies.

“Human poisons, however, don’t work on the folk at all. So, whatever you remember from your old life won’t serve you here.”

Old life? I have no old life. “I was raised here,” I say, keeping the hurt that tugs at my features on a tight leash. “I was in Faerie before I could even walk.”

I watch as his face falters, sunlight filtering through tree leaves dappling his features and highlighting his nose. He is beautiful, like all fae are. He only nods in acknowledgement, but I can tell he tucks the information away. His sharp eyes are intelligent, it was quite obvious when he was observing and internalizing.

He presses forward. “Hunter’s Bane is a milled-up tree leaf that inebriates, and fizzes up any drink it is sprinkled into. Not deadly, but being put in such a state could be. Deadly Pinchweed is ground up as well, and leaves a green tint—and is deadly.

“Lachrymose is a faerie fruit. As I’m sure you know, it makes a human agreeable and fogs the mind. It’s usually not prepared in any special way, just fed to glamoured humans.” The name of the fruit brings back the memory of a boy, a bit older than me, who at a particularly wild revelry was fed faerie fruit and buttered up by folk who thought it would be exceptionally humorous for the boy to make an audience with The King. Of course, the boy did, spewing nonsense at the foot of the dais, before going to wrap The King in a hug. A guard shot an arrow through his heart. He could not have been older than 16. Nut-hatch barred us from any form of revelry after that; she couldn’t spare her hard-raised shop worker over some faerie fruit. I fold the memory up neatly, compacting it so that I can keep it vibrant and alive in my mind. I solidify, in that memory, that Taehyun and every other wretched creature of his kind, would hardly blink twice to see me die such a death.

❈

Taehyun kindles a small but mighty fire with dry twigs and pine needles. I settle onto the ground, propping my back against a gnarled trunk and try to breathe out the ache in my back with each breath. I miss the way the mattress back at home base had cradled my body into sleep, and abhor the dirt and foliage that was sticking to my pants and palms where they meet the ground.

Taehyun’s voice, returning from his last round of searching for pine needles, startles me. “Get up.”

I shoot him a look that, hopefully, channels all my exhaustion. “I just sat down,” I whine, exasperated.

“If you’re hungry, get up.” He says, narrowing his eyes at me. He has ditched his mantle cloak and his doublet, and now is only in his simple black tunic, its sleeves rolled to his elbows. He’s serious, then.

I huff and complain, but stand up and dust off my palms and pants from the needles that stick to them. The especially deep indents itch a bit, and I soothe them as I follow him promptly into the thicker part of the woods.

“Lighten your feet,” Taehyun commands, his voice low, as a twig snaps under my foot. I wince; trying to replicate the lightness of his walk, but it makes no noticeable difference. If anything, my gait is more off than before, now that I’m overthinking my walk. Taehyun stops walking, pointing to his feet, before slowly demonstrating his footfalls. “Tense your legs, and keep your weight on your back foot until the other is fully on the ground.”

I oblige, and can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips as it works.

We continue through the shrubbery and low-hanging branches, until Taehyun pauses, placing a finger over his lips. I see it now, too; a plump pheasant that pecks at the foliage none-the-wiser. Taehyun reaches for his bow, and notches an arrow. He pulls the bowstring taut, centering his shot, and the arrow sings as he lets it fly.

The thud of the arrow piercing the pheasant makes my stomach flip. The pheasant cries, the arrow had pinned its wing and pierced through its stomach, but not killed it instantly. I avert my eyes as the scene burrows under my skin, and sets my heart sinking like a stone in water. Taehyun’s hurried steps bound over toward the still squawking bird, and the sound of metal unsheathing is followed by a loud final cry, and then silence. My muscles go rigid, and my nails dig deep crescents into my palm. I do not open my eyes, even as Taehyun announces that he spots a second bird. The pheasant’s final cries bounce off the walls of my mind, reverberating and driving a stake into my hurting heart more with each echo.

❈

Taehyun ended up catching us two other pheasants on the way back to our temporary campsite. I watch as they roast over the fire, yellow flames licking at their lightly charring bodies. Taehyun takes one off, passing it to me on a stick whittled sharp at the end. I shake my head, queasy at the thought of eating it.

He delivers me a cold resolve. “Respect its life,” He holds the stick there for me to take again.

“I’ll throw up,” I shake my head again, wrapping my arms around my stomach.

He barks a laugh. “This is ridiculous.” He lets the stick drop back over the fire, and I flinch as embers flurry up into the air, and narrowly miss me. Attitude flares up in my chest, and I go to say something smart-mouthed, but before I can, he continues, “Go back, if you’re just going to become a waste of my time. You think you’re a spy under The King? I don’t see shit but a spoiled brat, who thinks life should be handed to her. If you wanted that, this was not the life to choose.”

I reel at the bite in his voice. His words cut right where it hurts. “You think so?” I say, willing back the hot tears that prickle my eyes. They would only prove his case. “You don’t know a thing about me.”

“I know that you don’t know shit about being a spy,” he says, standing up. “I know that you are weak, and think you’re ready for a world that is going to kill you, and that you should probably be on your way back to Homebase to tell them you were never cut out for this.”

I’m up to my feet in an eye’s blink, closing in on him. “Humans don’t have the privilege of being spoiled brats in your world.” I hiss. The warm sensation of tears rolling down my cheek has me hoping that he doesn’t notice, and I reach up to wipe it quick. I curse being an angry crier. “I’m doing what I can, with what I have. Just teach me what I need to learn, and I’ll learn it.”

“Eat the damn pheasant, then.” he urges, like a wild beast in a delicate bauble shop.

I laugh an exhausted laugh. “Would it kill you to have a little compassion? Just a little? I’ve never killed something, and then eaten it. It's… I think it’ll take me some time to get used to it. Just give me some time, yeah?” It isn’t fair at all for him to hold me to the standards he is holding me to.

He goes quiet. I sit for a moment, too, stewing in all my rehashed hurt. It isn’t just that he’s treating me like a burden, or the low-blows he seems to keep opting for. He’s unknowingly cutting down to my deepest worries, rubbing salt in the wound, that maybe I am never going to amount to anything more than a servant girl.

He unsheathes the longsword at his back, getting into a solid stance. “Show me you can be strong, then.” I hesitate. I’ve never so much as swung a sword, and the weight of it is heavier than I’d expect as I unsheath mine. The metal hisses, and the handle of it is solid and plainly decorated. I replicate his stance, and shift the weight of the sword awkwardly in my hand, trying to find my grip

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I say, palms a bit sweaty against the cold metal, rocking in my stance. He swings hard, the force of it colliding with my sword jolts me, and it flies from my hands. I panic, frozen to the ground as he swings again. My heart lurches as I realize he isn’t going to pull his swing.

Wind whooshes as his sword stops just by my face. He leaves it there, pointed right at my nose. “Pick it up,” he cocks his head toward my sword. I stare at him, wide-eyed, as I oblige him. We reset our stance, him barking commands every time he finds my stance or swing to be flawed. I accept his criticism with open arms—it is better than the disdain that had painted his features.

I grit my teeth. I’m sheened in sweat, tugging for deep breaths, and my limbs are slow to recover from each blow he sends me. I’m twisting, dodging, and parrying as he tells me, but it's sloppy, and I have to summon my energy from already low reserves for each. His skin is irritatingly free of sweat, and still of that oddly cold and pristine quality. I had not noticed before how much it looks like frost twinkles under his skin.

My back collides with a tree I had not noticed Taehyun was backing me into, air escaping my lungs in a big whoosh. He gains on me, pressing the long edge of his sword so that it sits mind-numbingly close to my neck. I can feel my pulse rushing in my neck, heart beating from my chest in an almost audible thudding. I continue to try and catch my breath. He swoops in so close that his breaths fan over my face. An emotion that I have a hard time reading flickers in his eyes, and then he’s slamming his mouth to mine.

It’s a desperate clashing of teeth and lips. He lets his sword drop from my neck and to the ground, and he takes my face in his sword-roughened hands. My own find purchase at his shoulders, tugging him closer as if he could be any more so. The sound that escapes me as his hand tangles into the hair at the back of my head and tightens, tugging my head back and pressing in with more fervor, is like none I’ve ever made before.

When we pull back for air, my vision swims around the edges, and is dappled with stars. He studies my face, and I’m suddenly more conscious than ever of how my cheeks burn and my lips are smeared with our kiss. He takes in my debased state. His eyes have more fire in them than I ever thought I’d see—swirling and ravenous, an innate need clawing to reach the surface . It’s a dizzying mixture of pure headiness, and I shouldn’t be doing this. He dives back in, and each nip and lick at my neck is blazing. They electrify my veins and send shockwaves from the column of my throat and through my chest, zipping up and down every one of my limbs. I’m not even sure that if Taehyun were to stop holding me fast to the tree, I would be able to stand on my legs, wobbly and unreliable.

“Taehyun,” I gasp, my voice sounding not entirely my own. “Taehyun.”

“You piss me off so fucking bad.” He keeps one hand fisted at the back of my head, exposing my neck to him, but the other travels down my body experimentally. “And I have no idea why.”

My mind wants to reel and dwell on that, but he doesn’t let me. He wanders a hand about the hem of my shirt, and then he dares to go underneath it, and then he trails that cold hand up the plane of my abdomen. My stomach flips. “Have…” I gasp, “Have you maybe considered that you’re just an asshole?”

He draws back from ravishing my neck to give me a look, his eyes wild and untrained. It felt, for some odd reason, good to break down his impenetrable exterior—to puncture it down to where he is in his base desires. Maybe it’s because I just need him to see me as something other than useless, to need me so badly that he forgets his contempt for me. He maintains eye contact as his thumb traces the swell of my breast, watches me gasp as he finds my nipple and rolls it under his thumb. His eyes set me ablaze, and he delights in the way I burn.

“What, you’ve got nothing to say to that?” I say, meeting all the intensity of his gaze the best I can. I try to goad him into something; even if anger, so that he’ll soothe the pounding between my thighs. He does not entertain me, just regarding me with that same blistering intensity. My scalp begins to ache with the relentless tug of his fist, and I whimper, my hands leaving their place in his tunic to grab at his hand.

“You’re every bit the whiny brat I’ve known you to be,” he says. His voice is gravelly, as if even those few words were hard for him to formulate. Just as my chest had adjusted to the chill of his palm, he drags his fingertips back down my abdomen. The pads of his fingers rake over me, my skin prickling and alight.

“And you’ve got every bit of faerie entitlement to you,” I hiss. His hand pauses just above the waistline of my bottoms, and every bit of untamed need carved into his features is dust in the wind within a heartbeat. I reel at the loss of warmth as he pulls away. I try to reach out for him, to tug him back and wipe that awful indifferent look off his face again. But he’s already kicking out the fire and propping himself up against a thick pine tree. My stomach churns wildly as I set up my own sleeping situation. The silence is worse than any I’ve sat through—it’s charged with words better left unspoken, and heavy with the weight of our hands all over each other seconds ago.

Sleep does not come easy to me, but when it does, I sleep dreamless and weary.

END PART 1

a/n: how was thatttt? i've been looking forward to doing a high fantasy/faerie fanfic for sooo long. i'm sorry to leave you off like that but.. know that I am plotting, and planning. i'm already working on part 2, so stay tuned!!

taglist: @lvrs-street2mmorrow

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