Tumgik
#and would you BELIEVE which part i ended up rewriting every day for five days on the trot
partystoragechest · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
A story of romance, drama, and politics which neither Trevelyan nor Cullen wish to be in.
Canon divergent fic in which Josephine solves the matter of post-Wicked Hearts attention by inviting four noblewomen to compete for Cullen's affections. In this chapter, there are fireworks. Sort of.
(Masterpost. Beginning. Previous entry. Next entry. Words: 2,767. Rating: all audiences.)
Chapter 22: Hardly Working
The Inquisition’s red lyrium sample was kept far, far below.
Far below the Undercroft, where Trevelyan and Dagna prepared for their descent. Far below the dungeons, where two guards escorted them further down. Far below the sounds of people and life. Far, far below.
Door after door barred their path, each more fortified than the last. The keys were old and rusted, having existed much longer than the castle’s current occupants. Passages beyond were long and winding. One was not supposed to know the way. The stone of the stairs they descended appeared as if new. Few feet had ever trespassed here.
Trevelyan could not help but wonder for what this place had originally been built to contain.
Lower still they went. The darkness that had settled upon these steps was cast aside by the light of a torch, held aloft in the hand of one of their guides. Trevelyan felt its warmth in the air, and glanced nervously at the small chest Dagna carried. Their device lay inside—insulated, inert. But it was still within Trevelyan to worry.
The long stairwell curved, the end at last coming into sight, a chamber door revealed. Daylight—somehow, daylight—poured through its barred window, casting a slotted shadow upon the floor. Had they come so far as to breach the bottom of the mountain?
“Here we are,” said a guard, producing the largest, oldest, and most complex key yet. “Be careful, Arcanist; your Ladyship.”
He opened the door. Breath escaped Trevelyan’s body.
The cavern beyond was thrice the size of the Undercroft, in both height and depth. And like the Undercroft, it, too, had a maw: a narrow fissure running high across the back wall, like the slash of a gigas claw, through which light spilled in its gallons.
This, however, was not the central feature of the space. Indeed, it was only there to light the central feature of the space. For in this chamber, suspended by the strength of three large chains, was a small stone chest. Red.
The size of the cavern was such that, in the doorway as they were, Trevelyan and Dagna still stood a good sixty feet from it. But its glow was evident. Cracks in the stone, where the red lyrium had broken its bonds, pulsated with that eerie colour. Trevelyan felt she should step no closer.
“Smart to keep it off the ground,” she commented.
“Have to,” Dagna replied. “Grows fast! We change the casket every three weeks—sometimes the chains, too, if it’s gotten a little enthusiastic.”
“I take it that’s why it’s made of stone?”
“Yeah! Grows through it slower than metal or wood—especially wood. It loves organic material! But for stone, I think it… respects it, kind of? Like it remembers where it comes from, almost… Anyway! Let’s get to it!”
With brazen confidence, Dagna marched beyond the threshold. Trevelyan remained reluctant to follow. Little wonder she was being paid so well.
Swallowing her unease, she left the guards posted at the door, and entered the room. But as soon as she did, she could feel it.
She had been near lyrium, before. The Formari in her Circle used it, and she would sometimes have to visit their workshops in the midst of her storeroom duties. Dagna employed it quiet frequently, too, but Trevelyan would keep to the other side of the Undercroft, or run errands. She didn’t like it, particularly. It made her dizzy.
Red lyrium was worse. Only a few feet closer, and a hum entered her mind. A constant, droning hum. There was pressure on her head, too—like a hand, pushing down with all its might. Trevelyan tried not to give it her attention.
“All right,” Dagna said, setting down her chest about forty feet from the casket, “let’s activate!”
Slow and careful, she lifted the lid. Trevelyan held her breath.
But as their device was revealed, the world remained still—and Trevelyan was grateful for it. Though it did not look one, this thing they had created was better called a bomb.
Dagna reached in, and lifted it out. A small, but thick, metal disc, held best and most carefully in two hands. Trevelyan’s eyes searched the surface for any change. But the runes inscribed onto it—runes of her own design—maintained a faint glow. Safe.
The moment it touched the ground, Dagna whipped out her toolbelt. Trevelyan took up her usual position, ready and willing to do or hold anything that Dagna instructed her to. Theory was more her domain. The practical—this—was best left to Dagna.
And so she tinkered away, runes beginning to brighten. The buzz of its growing magic competed for space in Trevelyan’s mind. She began to gather Fade energy around her fingers. Just… in… case...
“Ooh, shiny!”
Trevelyan startled, and whirled. Dorian Pavus stood beside her, gazing down on Dagna’s work. He noticed Trevelyan’s stare, and smiled.
“Dorian?”
“Don’t mind me”—he winked—“just came to see the show.”
Though Trevelyan rolled her eyes, she could not help but smile. “Very well,” she said, and returned her focus to Dagna.
Dorian did the same. He even managed to stay quiet for some number of seconds—though it seemed the banality of observation could not satisfy his ever-operational mind for long. Whilst Trevelyan handed Dagna a precise-looking implement, Dorian asked:
“Will you be attending the banquet?”
Maker, that thing kept slipping her mind. Trevelyan would have to make certain her gown was ready.
“Yes,” she told him, “will you?”
“Physically, yes. Mentally? No.”
Trevelyan laughed. “Likewise.”
“...Have you seen the guest list?”
Trevelyan gave him an exasperated look, but answered regardless: “I have. Though I fear I recognise very few of the names, and know only their characters from the descriptions given to me by the other Ladies.”
“Oh,” Dorian chuckled. “Then you are in for quite the evening! I met some of these people at the Winter Palace. I also met some demons. Completely indistinguishable.”
“Which did you prefer?”
“Oh, I think you know. After all, it’s at least socially acceptable to strike demons with lightning.”
Trevelyan laughed. “The more I hear, the more I wonder why they have all been invited in the first place.”
“Because ‘keeping the peace’, something like that.”
“But why are we all to be involved?” Trevelyan complained.
Dorian smiled. “I hardly know. But far be it from anyone to refuse our lovely Ambassador.”
A flare of magic stole Trevelyan’s attention. She looked back to Dagna, whose grinning face reflected a blue glow. The device below her pulsated, lyrium energy blooming from its carved runes.
“There we go!” she sang. “Activated. How’s that magic amplification feeling?”
“I can certainly feel it!” answered Trevelyan. “I just hope it’s enough to bypass the anti-magic effects.”
Dagna hauled the device into her arms. “So do I, because I added a little extra oomph. Just in case!”
Trevelyan’s eyes widened. “Are you sure that’s a good—!?”
Dagna punted the device towards the red lyrium casket. Trevelyan barely had time to draw breath.
It was like a clap of thunder. Booming sound and blinding light plunged them into darkness. Smoke and dust and falling debris. Reverberations rumbled through the stone around them. Clanging of chains. Whining in the ears. All of Skyhold shuddered, and then fell to silence.
When Trevelyan dared open her firm-shut eyes, a dark and burning haze surrounded her. Yet, it did not touch her. Her arms were outstretched, energy cocooned her. Smoke shifted and moved against the shimmering surface of a protective barrier. She’d got it up just in time.
A quick glance to either side. Dagna was all right, thanks to the magical shield. Seemingly unfazed by the explosion, she looked with shining eyes into the cloud of dust from whence it had come.
Dorian, meanwhile, had had the same idea as Trevelyan. He met her gaze.
“Great minds!” he said, his levity not quite masking the shake in his voice. “Would you like to do the honours”—he nodded towards the smoke—“or shall I?”
“You,” Trevelyan told him, “I’ll hold.”
“Very well. In three, two, one—” Dorian dropped his share of the barrier. Trevelyan held firm.
With her protection, he began to twist his hands. She felt a pull, as he put out his call, and summoned the Fade to their aid.
One of his fists balled up tight, a gathering of energy thickening within. He raised this hand to his face, fingers unfurling before his mouth. With one deep and powerful exhalation, he blew.
His breath turned to a hurricane wind, and blasted forth through the chamber, unimpeded by Trevelyan’s barrier. The smoke and dust was thrown aside. Light poured in once more.
“Wow…” breathed Dagna.
Wow, indeed.
The scene before them had changed entirely. The chains that once suspended the red lyrium chest hung loose, half-extant, against the stone walls. They rattled in the breeze of Dorian’s spell.
The casket they had held? Gone. All that remained in its wake was a large, circular scorch mark, burnt into the floor.
Trevelyan dropped her barrier. “Oh Maker, it worked!”
“Yes!” cheered Dagna, pumping a fist into the air. “It worked! Though, I guess the bad news is, we lost our red lyrium sample!”
Dorian grinned. “Rather the point, wasn’t it?”
“Are you all well?” called one of the guards, from the doorway. Trevelyan had just been about to ask the same of them.
“We’re well!” she replied.
“Mainly because of that barrier of yours,” Dorian muttered. “Good form. Strong. I know very few mages who could create one so stable without a focus—other than myself, of course.”
Trevelyan chuckled. “It was only a barrier.”
“True, but I’ve seen very little magic of yours, and I feel I should like to see more. You’ve got more power than you’re letting on.”
There was a good reason for that: “I suppose I got accustomed to not practicing it. My parents weren’t exactly keen on my using magic around the house.”
Dorian laughed. “We had very different upbringings! But—anyway, you aren’t under the thumb of your parents now. You ought to be loosing fireballs upon the sky.”
“Or causing large explosions?” Trevelyan suggested, gesturing to where Dagna prowled the scorch-circle.
“Fair point.”
Dagna interrupted: “Your Ladyship, we should get started on sweeping the room for trace remains. I want to know if anything was left at all.”
“Absolutely,” said Trevelyan, curious of that herself. She had noticed that the head-pressure was gone—but that did not mean every shard of red lyrium was.
Dorian, meanwhile, took a step back. “Well, you have my congratulations, both of you—but I am leaving before someone asks me to help clean up.”
“I don’t think she meant that kind of sweeping,” said Trevelyan.
“I heard the word ‘sweeping’, I’m leaving,” insisted Dorian. “Best of luck.”
They gave him their farewells and waved him off. Trevelyan watched him as far as the door, then turned away as he disappeared up the stairs. Her eyes were needed on the floor.
But her mind lingered elsewhere.
“Dagna, I’ll be just a moment,” she said, “I need Dorian to pass a message along.”
Dagna gave her leave, and Trevelyan hurried away. With any luck, the sheer amount of stairs would have slowed Dorian down.
And indeed she found him, halfway up. Nearly out of breath, she managed to call:
“Dorian, wait!”
He stopped and waited, sure enough—probably glad of the break. “Miss me already?”
“Naturally, but that is not why I came,” she said, taking a moment. “I wanted to ask, will you tell the Commander we’ve succeeded? He’ll have likely heard the explosion—most of Skyhold will, and I want him to know it’s all right.”
Dorian folded his arms. “And when exactly did I become your messenger boy?”
“I know this is far beneath your standards, but I think he would better see a friend right now, than a... suitor. Given his, ah, current circumstances.”
A sly little chuckle spilled from Dorian’s mouth. “Oh, I think he’d much prefer to see you than I, on any given day. But if you think it best, I shall go and take your glory.”
“Thank you. I appreciate the trouble.”
She expected him to take the message and dart off, but Dorian seemed to settle himself upon the step on which he stood, and fixed her with a stare.
“Are you all right?” he asked, soft.
“Why would I not be?”
“Cullen—the Commander—believed you weren’t, the last we spoke. He mentioned you found him…. you know.”
So Dorian knew. Of course he would, given his friendship with the Commander. Trevelyan did not blame him for not telling her of the circumstances. Such closeness required confidence.
Regardless, she sighed. “I told him yesterday I was fine. Several times.”
Dorian laughed, and moved down a step so that he might join her on hers, and talk more quietly. Those guards were still down there, somewhere. “He is something of a worrywart. You seem all right to me.”
Trevelyan nodded, leaning her back against the wall of the passage. Maker, the stone was cold. “Have you ever seen him like that?”
“No. Though as I understand it, it’s a rare occurrence, for him,” Dorian explained. “The Inquisitor’s seen it, though. Cullen once threw something at our dear Herald’s head!”
Trevelyan’s eyes widened. Dorian must have noticed, for he immediately followed with:
“Well, not at the Inquisitor; the Inquisitor just so happened to walk in at precisely the wrong moment. A habit. Cullen was throwing it at the door, in anger, unaware someone was about to walk through. We all joke about it—it’s how we know he isn’t a spy for Corypheus. If he was, he wouldn’t have missed.”
Trevelyan smiled. She could hardly judge the Commander for acting upon his anger whilst believing himself to be alone. One needed to, sometimes. She’d set some things on fire in private moments. Most recently being yesterday.
Dorian sighed, and shook his head. “I thought he was on the up, you know. He said this one was bad—though you, especially, are already aware of that. Peaks and troughs, I suppose, and you can’t predict when one will follow the other.”
“It is impossible to know,” commiserated Trevelyan. “No one has managed to survive it, to my knowledge. It’s like the Grey Wardens. Departure comes only through death.”
The mention of the latter word seemed to light a fire in Dorian. “Well, let’s hope that’s not the case, shall we? I’m sure it’ll all shake out. After all, the Inquisition’s best boffins are on it—Dagna included! And it’s more than the Chantry’s ever done—though the southern Chantry is not particularly known for doing much…”
Yet another person Trevelyan was now convinced that Baroness Touledy could have a scintillating conversation with. She would merely need an opportunity for introduction. Banquet, perhaps?
“Anyway, I best be off to deliver your message,” he continued. “Though, if I am to do so, I’ll no doubt be asked if I doubled-checked: are you sure you’re all right?”
“Of course,” Trevelyan confirmed. “Is he?”
“Peaks and troughs.”
“I see. Do you think he will attend the banquet?”
Dorian laughed. “I hope not. His table manners are very Fereldan.”
She knew the joke was to make her smile, but she could barely manage it. Her worries were too overpowering. “It’s hardly going to be good for him,” she muttered, continuing—without thinking—to say: “Having us suitors running around after him is pain enough.”
Dorian’s lip quirked upward. “Oh, if you want to talk the ethics of this little competition of yours, it goes far deeper than that.”
The comment pulled Trevelyan from her own mind. “Oh?”
He shrugged. “Well, I’ve not quite put my finger on it yet, but… it all feels rather sordid. Not quite right. Not quite right at all.”
Trevelyan was at once reminded of the argument she overheard between the Commander and Lady Montilyet. Just what had that been about, truly?
“Have you spoken to the Commander about it?”
Dorian laughed. “Oh, you have no idea of what we talk about. You come up quite frequently.”
Trevelyan did not know how to feel about that. Though she was certainly feeling something.
“Ergo,” continued Dorian, “I have. But the man is obstinate, and I feel there may be powers at play that I cannot interfere with.”
“Whose?” asked Trevelyan.
Dorian smiled. “Oh, it’s as I say: far be it from anyone to refuse our lovely Ambassador.”
15 notes · View notes
afaramir · 1 month
Note
5, 8, 12, 15, 33, and 34! <3333
YAYY thank u jamie for all of these <333
5. quote one of your fics out of context
A memory, to an architect, is a prison, a haunting, a noose.
from two shadows burning out a glory day, my bizarre inception/bond crossover fic. its very close to my heart it was kind of my first. idk if i can say non-conventional fic but it kind of is. like conceptually and narratively Weird. something that messes with the reader's head.
8. share the last line that you wrote
oh BOY. im trying to ease back into writing after the wackass week i've had but something seized me and i AM up at 3am picking away at umbar fic. but its time for bed because i have work and also i just thesaurused "retreat." when i start looking up synonyms of VERY simple words its a sign the night is over.
[his father] would give him every honour, and would that not mean he would accord him every accompanying sin?
hehehehe the thorongil-ecthelion-denethor dynamic IS absolutely in the air. its funny because right before this denethor basically curses thorongil out for daring to bring up His Damn Father when they're making out. yeah its pretty insensitive. but it leads him here and from MY perspective the introspection is yummy. don't think of elephants or whatever.
12. what fandom do you want to write for most often
hmm i feel like. my answer is just whatever im? hyperfixating on at the moment? when i get in there i REALLY get in there. but maybe pacific rim. it just lives at a low simmer in the back of my mind at all times but it's also the hardest to bang something quick out for because it is one of, if not THE most emotionally fraught for me to deal with. its just. well its a lot of grief. and also a lot of times my style becomes very um. Particular. because of my personal headcanons about how drifting fucks with your head and how that kind of comes across in the prose. and i gotta be in the right headspace for All That.
15. what fic of yours would you most like to rewrite
honestly i'm not sure if? any of them? i saw a quotation once about only having been able to write certain things at certain points in your life and i really believe that. current me could not produce a lot of my old stuff at all. there's small parts of many things i might change but not complete rewrites, and i also want to preserve them in their posted form for posterity. e.g. there's parts of dreamlike, and yet no dream that i would want to tweak to match my current Denethor And Faramir complexities (it's missing a Little of the nuance. and the terrible pity that i think faramir ends up feeling for his father) but i would NOT want to completely rewrite it. i'm scrolling through my ao3 and like. yeah. and i do think that after maybe 2020 it really begins to stand the test of time and most of my prior stuff i don't have a strong enough attachment to really want to rework. i leave it up entirely for archival purposes.
33. which of your fic titles is your favourite?
i really like five year plan for the afternoon. i honestly really like most of my titles i’ve probably mentioned i think really hard when im choosing them and i hope it shows in the match between the title and the energy/themes of the fic. but i DID create this one from my own mind (rare) and i feel like it really gave the energy of like. having the future you never thought you would have because you've spent your whole life fighting an impossible fight thinking you would die trying...and getting to not have to have a plan for the future not because you think you won't have one but because you just have all the time in the world.......wow.
35. have you ever written a fic because you were inspired by a title?
hmm. not really. i do have some inspired-by-songs ones (talked about those here) that eventually ended up with corresponding lyric titles but it doesn't really work the reverse way. i mostly will hear a lyric and create a Scenario rather than a title
fic writer asks
5 notes · View notes
chocosvt · 3 years
Text
love café
Tumblr media
⚬ pairing: jeonghan x fem!reader ⚬ word count: 17.6K ⚬ warnings: some vulgar language, i guess! ⚬ genres: big time nsfw, dirty talk, lap dances, quickies, bath shenanigans, exhibitionism, overstim - you get what i mean. big ole romance, angst, fluff, jeonghan is very rich and very hot, joshua has a not so subtle crush on you. 
✧✎ synopsis: while you’ve spent the last few months pretending the love café doesn’t exist, you realize you need its services now more than ever. this brings you face to face with jeonghan, the son of a luxury fashion designer who’s got money to burn. your exchanges are strictly business. until they’re not. 
✧✎ a/n: YES, ANOTHER REWRITE. the original love café was just so unsalvageable that i almost fully wiped its plot, minus the actual concept of the café. so, this should read as fairly new! I HOPE U ENJOY IT !!
Tumblr media
It’s not that you were desperate. Because you weren’t.
You were actually more than desperate at this point, and no longer could you sit on that uneven couch with the broken leg, staring at the chipped paint, listening to your neighbours’ screams, believing you should continue like this. More than anything, you were shortchanging yourself. There was no point in holding onto that little string of hope in which those employers might phone you back. It would be impossible to contact your family when you had affirmatively cut ties with them ages ago. And, it was becoming increasingly foolish to ignore your one saving grace, just a street over from your rundown complex.
But, could you really commit to it? Would anyone even be able to look at you and think you were someone desirable enough to reward?
Those thoughts often hung over you like a dark cloud, and poured down so heavily that you were metaphorically drenched, in your own pessimism. However, on that day, you were beyond patience with the cards you’d been dealt. Such a despairing apartment, with all its bugs and drafts and horrible neighbours, could not be your brightest and most fortunate future. There had to be something you could do.
Even if it meant going to the Love Café.
In other words, an easy gig to financial heaven, in exchange for sexual pleasures of course. You walked into your bedroom and sat down in front of the wooden vanity, clicking on a dim, flickering bulb to help illuminate your face as well as its lifeless expression which stared back at you. It didn’t take more than ten minutes to pat your skin with some emptying makeup and thinning pans of eyeshadow. Then, you fixed up your hair and chose a simple, mute-coloured dress from your closet, immediately swallowed by the large winter coat you cozied into.
You hurried quickly down the corridor, ignoring the muffled shouts from your argumentative neighbours bleeding through the nickel-thin walls, past the barking dog which jumped against the door, scratching its nails whenever you waited for the elevator, and you didn’t even spare one glance at the very strange man who always hovered in the central lobby and watched you ignore his coos every single day. By the time you arrived outside the Love Café, you were breathing like a marathon runner. Despite the cold weather, you felt a sweat run like a breeze down your temple as you wiped your face before heading inside.
The space felt warm. Everything was red, pink, or white. And when you inhaled, the air smelled like a note of rose petals and candy. It was surprisingly easy to sign up for a ‘Love Card’ at the front desk.
“This card has twelve punches per service with your partner. If, by the end of the twelfth punch, you’re not looking to pursue something serious with this individual, you can pay for another Love Card. If you do manage to find, ‘the one’, then congratulations, and well wishes. Since you’re a first-time client, you get twenty-five percent off your first card.”
Whoever the lady was, she seemed less than enthusiastic as she pushed a cherry-red paper across the counter with a finely manicured nail. You thought she must have given this spiel so many times, the script probably haunted her in her sleep. Nonetheless, you thanked her, and heeded her direction when she advised you to choose any of the free tables, marked with a pale rose. For some reason, you picked the very last table amongst the row and slid yourself onto the uncomfortable, white chair, the metal back moulded into the shape of a heart.
Tumblr media
Whoever reserved the table wasn’t exactly punctual. About half an hour after being seated, ordering yourself a tea, and examining the different clients who filtered in and out the café, you were beginning to assume the worst. That they cancelled. Flaked. Decided to pull from the service and direct their affluence elsewhere. As you titled the last few droplets of tea around the base of the cup, feeling utterly depressed and bored, you heard the little bells clink above the door, followed by a gasp from the employee at the front desk. Considering her microscopic range of emotion, you figured whoever entered must be some flawless rarity.
“Jeonghan!” She fixed her slouched position. “I wasn’t aware you made a reservation today. I haven’t seen your name in the system.”
“No worries. I set an anonymous appointment the night before. After all the chaos I caused last time, I figured it’s best to stay under the radar. I know I’m late. I was finishing up a term paper.”
“That’s quite all right. Here, I’ll just quickly renew your information. One moment… Okay, Yoon Jeonghan, you’re all set.”
At that, your eyes practically bulged right into the teacup. You’d heard his name in some conversations with a few university friends, before you had dropped your program. His father was an inventive in the fashion industry for nearly a decade, and his brand was considered high-end luxury, with people forking up the big bucks just to wear a piece from the collection. His mother recently begun a perfume company. In fact, you had a bottle from her Sunrise series sitting on your vanity, though you used each spritz very sparingly considering its outrageous price point. According to the most recent gossip, Jeonghan had ended his relationship with a model who’d been strutting his father’s cloths.
You couldn’t believe he was here.
No – even worse, you couldn’t believe he was making his way toward your table. It had to be some sort of mistake. How could it be that you chose to sit here? Was the universe attempting another cruel joke?
His visual seemed even more daunting outside his photographs in the magazines. Beyond a glossy page, he was softer. Thick hair, shiny and dark brown, which swooped beneath his ears and parted smoothly at the forehead. His lips were the same shade as the windowsill roses, as well as the high arches in his cheeks. But then, he was sharper too, with a trim, angular jaw and such a defined yet judgemental brow. You had expected anyone else but him. And now, this esteemed, much too beautiful man had come to the very last table, wearing an expression of waning curiosity. Or, as you interpreted it, clear-glass disappointment.
Before Jeonghan seated himself, he untucked his phone from his coat pocket and clicked a side button to check the time. He then sniffled, looked straight at the wall, and sighed. Despite your now devoted wish to disappear, you attempted to begin a conversation that wouldn’t backfire.
“Yoon Jeonghan. I’ve heard the name. It’s nice to meet you.”
He settled one arm on the table, tapping his fingernails.
“Yeah. I’m guessing you’re not a regular here—” he then peered over at your bright red Love Card placed by the teacup to say your name.
Bouncing your leg underneath the table, you nodded. “No, not really. I’ve been debating for a while if this was a choice I should make, but I can’t seem to have ends meet doing anything else. So, I came here.”
Already, Jeonghan looked painfully bored. He stopped tapping his fingers and leaned his chin against the hand instead. You knew it was the insecurity barking. Unnecessarily, you apologized to him.
“I’m sorry, I know I’m probably not the woman you’re expecting and I get that. I wouldn’t be all that offended if you wanted to save the Love Card for someone else or—”
Out of the blue, Jeonghan laughed, though he attempted to mute the sound by digging the bend of his index finger between his teeth. Your sentence trailed off with an awkward, dying breath. He suddenly leaned back in his metal seat, shaking his head apologetically and pulling back some of the soft hairs from his eyes. You felt utterly confused.
“Sorry, sorry,” he smiled, “didn’t mean to discourage you there, sweetheart. I’ve just never had someone apologize for—well, their looks.”
“I-I don’t know,” you lunged for damage control, “I just thought you seemed disappointed and I… Well, I haven’t done this before, so I don’t really know all that well how it works. I… I should stop talking…”
It felt as though someone had swatted both your cheeks in an iron-slap, because the skin was stinging hot like never before. You knew he was staring at you, probably thinking to himself that you were a train wreck waiting to happen. Afterward, an employee visited the table to collect your emptied teacup, and asked Jeonghan if he’d like anything to drink. Refusing to look elsewhere but the clenched fists in your lap, you waited for the employee to leave once Jeonghan rejected the offer. He’d pulled out a piece of paper and a pen from his pocket. Uncapping the pen with his teeth, you watched him sloppily scribble something down.
“My number.” He said, sliding it across the table. “Listen, I’ve gotta go home and proofread that term paper before I submit it. Just send me a text, okay? I won’t be free for a few days, anyways.”
“Oh, okay.” You sniffled.
Quite frankly, you couldn’t comprehend that he was still interested in pursuing something venereal, even when you had embarrassed yourself like a circus act. He rose quickly from the table and wrapped the waistband of his coat tight around his small waist.
Staring down at the paper, you blurted out, “are you sure?”
Jeonghan titled his head. “Am I sure of what?”
“Never mind.” You answered. “I’ll text you later.”
“Okay.” He nodded, on the verge of walking away when he abruptly stopped himself. “Are you always this nervous?”
Caught off guard by his question, your elbow whacked the edge of the table and you meekly stuttered, “I-I don’t know…”
You were more than positive he was going to ghost all your texts.
Tumblr media
To a degree, you were correct.
Over the course of the following week, you sent Jeonghan at least three texts, each on separate days, only to be rewarded with a demotivating lack of responses. You knew he was a busy individual who probably didn’t have much time to waste on promiscuous affairs, let alone a committed relationship. So, you tried very earnestly to not feel upset or unimportant at his methods – even despite the series of required payments glaring you down from those white envelopes scattered atop the kitchen table.
And then, during the black, late hours of a snowy Friday, you received a reply. A surprisingly urgent one which detailed that you make it to the downtown Opal Studio before eleven o’clock, as there would be a backdoor entrance left unlocked for your access. He mentioned a storage closet underneath a staircase, worded very sternly as: … Wait inside, and do not make yourself known. I’ll see you there shortly, and ensure you leave without being spotted. Uncertain of what the situation would entail, you phoned a cab and payed the driver using some remaining funds from a paper note purse. The studio’s front was a smooth, velvet black, with a wide window which illuminated several mannequins wearing Mr. Yoon’s newest issue. Each outfit cost a pretty penny.
Like you anticipated, Jeonghan was late to meet you in the storage closet; however, you were at no point going to scold his blatant disregard for scheduling when he’d pressed you tight against the door looking the way he did. Buttons popped down the chest of his unwrinkled dress shirt, sleeves cuffed to his elbows, and his neat, styled hair beginning to dishevel around those intense eyes. He braced his hand beside your head, studying your lips as though they were glittering.
“Can I kiss you?” Jeonghan asked. The question seemed to rumble from deep in his throat and you felt your knees weaken.
You nodded immediately, allowing his hand to frame the side of your cheek as his warm, soft mouth nudged against yours. It was gentle for a fleeting touch, and then there was pressure, teeth, a slick tongue running across your bottom lip and leaving you in such a sensual daze that you just stood there with a parted mouth. Jeonghan definitely knew what he wanted from you in that moment. And he wanted it quick. You were flipped around, chest pushed against the door, skirt hiked up impatiently as the fabric ruffled around your hips. His hand slid between your thighs to rub you through the thin pair of underwear, pressing firmly enough that you could feel the cold, thick rings on his fingers.
Eagerly, you began a slow gyration of grinding against Jeonghan’s touch while simultaneously biting down hard on your bottom lip, knowing embarrassingly well that you were already sticky and soaking and ready for him to use you like a designated fucktoy. He was rather flush to your backside as he dug the heel of his palm against your clit, so much yet not enough between the cotton. Something about his scent was beyond arousing, and it gripped to him like a web. An expensive cologne no doubt, mature, raw, and ocean-fresh. You heard the sound of his belt being whipped open, followed by a zipper.
“Alright,” Jeonghan hummed, passing a hand up his length, “let’s make this quick. Gotta be back upstairs in five to finish the measurements and tapering and all that boring shit. Now, just be a good, quiet little girl for me, sweetheart, and this’ll be a cake walk.”
Your mouth stretched into a low, whiny groan as Jeonghan held your underwear aside and began to sink inside of you, his hips stalled against your skin. His light breath then fluttered at your ear, “bet you’d make such a perfect toy to keep my cock nice and warm. Feels so perfect, being this deep inside you, sweetheart.” He shuddered against you, thrusting once, twice, slowly and teasingly dragging himself out before ramming right back in to pinch you against the door.
“Fuck,” he cursed between his teeth, “life would be so much easier if I could just keep you right here on my cock, wouldn’t it, baby?”.
Undoubtedly, that smooth-talking tongue of his was going to be an impending problem. You don’t know where he got off exactly on such scandalous thoughts, but you were too consumed in your own lust to care. The way he fucked you against that door with one hand scraping at your hip and the other wrapped up your throat, fingers pressing hot into your drooling mouth to keep you quiet, it was more bliss than a one-way ticket to Eden. Jeonghan timed his orgasm appropriately, slipping himself from your warmth at the last second and finishing himself off using the hand which had been maintaining your silence. His breaths were slow but husky in the aftermath, his fingers painted in cum.
“You wouldn’t want to use that pretty mouth of yours to clean this, would you?” He laughed.
Before you could respond, Jeonghan had grabbed some paper towels left to sit on a shelf and cleaned the mess himself. Then, as though nothing had happened, he asked if you were carrying that damn Love Card before you could even flatten down the wrinkles in your skirt. You grabbed the small note purse you set down next to the paper towels and revealed the obnoxiously coloured card. Jeonghan smiled.
“That’s the one.” He took a dry erase marker from the shelf and wrote his initials in the first circle.
“Here,” Jeonghan proceeded to offer back the card, “one session down. I need to scram. The hall should be clear at this hour, but have a cab ready just in case you need to bolt fast. Oh—before I go, you got the money to pay the driver? It’s no problem if you’re short. I can cover.”
“N-No, I should have enough.” You answered.
“Cool. I’ll transact you tonight.” Jeonghan nodded, tucking in his shirt rather poorly before slipping past you to exit the storage closet.
Tumblr media
One week later, you were at the entrance to the library, pulling open the door with a big, cold huff. It was much warmer inside. You were beginning to feel the tips of your stiff fingers again.
Despite your service at the Love Café, you wanted one last time to test your luck on a receptionist position at the downtown hair salon, simply because you would think better of yourself if you weren’t relying chiefly on Jeonghan to pay your bills. His last transaction had been more than you anticipated. Finally, you were able to erase that huge electricity bill, and you still had enough of the money left over to supply some warm meals for the next few days. If you could just submit your newest resume to the salon, then you might be able to permanently cover the groceries.
Except, you needed access to a computer.
Ever since you tipped over a glass of water onto your old laptop, it had stopped working properly, and the library was the only place close by which let you use the computer room without fees. However, as you peered in through the backroom window to find an open space, you realized just how crammed full it was. Judging by everyone’s intense typing and unblinking eyes, you weren’t going to steal a seat anytime soon, which pulled out a frustrated sigh as you fiddled with the USB in your pocket. You thought about heading home, until you saw Jeonghan.
He was seated at the distant left corner, leaned back comfortably in the chair while he examined something on his laptop. A gym bag was slid underneath the table, and he was dressed as though he had some sort of sports practice; quite the contrary to his usual crisp, ironed shirts and heavy winter coats courtesy of brands you couldn’t pronounce. He seemed concentrated, chewing on his thumb nail while he tapped the touch pad. In fact, he didn’t notice that you had approached him until you said his name quietly from across the table and his eyes flickered.
“Uh, hey.” Jeonghan replied, sounding bothered while he pushed his thumb harshly against his bottom lip. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“And I didn’t expect to see you.”
He shrugged, maintaining his uninterested glance on the laptop screen. “Well, I’m looking over some notes. Last minute stuff.”
You nodded. “What’s with the duffle bag?”
“My friend Joshua – he’s been making me coach this Peewee soccer team with him at the Greenfield Dome.” Jeonghan puffed out his chest, letting an arm fall loosely to his side. “Those kids are insane. They have too much energy. I shouldn’t have let that bastard sweet talk me.”
At that, you giggled, though immediately hushed yourself when the librarian came by with a metal cart, filled with books to shelve. You stepped around the table to move out of her way. Jeonghan pulled out the chair beside him using his foot and nodded that you take a seat.
“What are you doing here?” He asked.
You reached into your pocket and pulled out the USB.
“I need to upload my new resume. I mean, I probably won’t hear anything back from this place, ‘cause that’s how it usually goes. But, whatever. Thing is, I busted my laptop, and now the computer room is filled up. I’ll just come back later and hope it’s cleared out.” Staring down at your shoes, you avoided Jeonghan’s gaze. “I know I’m doing this Love Café stuff, but it would still be nice to have my own income, you know?”
“I get that.” He replied, scratching at his collarbone. “I’ve already got my laptop here and everything. You can use it, if you want.”
“Really?” You smiled wide. “Thanks.”
Jeonghan closed a few tabs that he’d been rotating between before sliding his laptop over to you. Wriggling the memory stick into the small slot at the side, you logged into your email account through the main search engine. As long as you could send your resume to the salon before they closed their application deadline, then you would hope for the absolute best, even if it was an unstimulating, lacklustre gig answering phones and scheduling hair appointments all day. Just as you went to drag the file into your email, Jeonghan’s laptop froze.
“Uh, Jeonghan,” you whispered, “nothing’s moving. Do I just wait? Does this normally happen? Did I screw something up?”
He shook his head and laughed. “Relax, relax. It’s been doing that a lot recently. I figured out if you hold down these keys—” Jeonghan suddenly scooted his chair in very close, his thigh pressing against yours as he reached a hand underneath your arm, the other lightly nudging your fingers off the keyboard, “then it goes back to normal. See?”
“O-Oh, yeah. It’s working.” You stuttered, not all staring at the specific keys he clicked because the side of his face was much too pretty.
Granting you access to the keyboard again, Jeonghan leaned away, though he didn’t move his thigh from yours even an inch. It was almost concerning how flustered you felt. Jeonghan had literally pinned you against a closet door and fucked his own hand right in front of you, and yet, your heart was fluttering tenfold. In a much different way. And it lit this spark of fear and adrenaline at the core of your chest like gasoline hitting a wicked flame. You detached the USB stick, logged yourself out from the email account, and moved quickly off the seat.
In a hurried breath, you said, “thanks so much!” and proceeded to leave the library as though someone were trailing you with a pitchfork.
While it was embarrassing, you knew it was necessary. There was no way you were going to crush on that boy. It was strictly business.
Tumblr media
Tired. Aching.
Uncomfortable moisture covering the slopes and divots of your body. You didn’t think there was anything left inside you for him to so commandingly take, like his name were inked to your each and every limb. And yet, Jeonghan wasn’t ready to let you rest. The mattress dipped behind you, the heat of his chest sticking to your back, the weight of his erection pressed right at your tailbone. While his lips kissed softly up your neck, Jeonghan slid his hand in between your thighs to continue pleasuring you, ignoring the responsive whimpers attached to your sensitivity. He’d already brought you to two orgasms, though you were sensing the overbearing rush of a third.
An index and middle finger slid down to your entrance, the contact beyond slippery, a sort of wet velvet, and you hardly recognized the sensation unlike the first time he’d touched you. Jeonghan hooked the digits deep, using the heel of his palm to rub a thorough friction against your clit. Working faster and faster, his laboured breaths fanned hot across your neck while he sharply concentrated on making you starry-eyed. It was pain. It was bliss. It was exactly what you wanted most and everything you couldn’t endure at the same time. You came heavily, screamed as the pulsation at your core felt almost violent.
Unable to fully ride out the pleasure, you attempted to curl away from Jeonghan, hiding your face in the pillows and further tilting your hips. However, the boy followed your movement. He stayed snug to your back, practically leaned over top you with the latter arm braced next to your head while his hand pounded and pounded. The amount of liquid gushing onto his fingers and spilling down his wrist felt almost comical, and you were certain that you had never orgasmed so intensely in your life. To make matters worse, it seemed as though he’d taken that little memory box in your head filled with all your language and tossed it right out the damn window. You couldn’t form one word other than sobs.
Jeonghan breathed a light, shaky chuckle beside your ear. “Trying to run from me, sweetheart? When I can make you feel so good? Look at how much you can take, honey. Such a good girl when you cum so fucking hard ‘round my fingers I can barely move them.”
The sound of his digits sliding out from your entrance was the most impure, salacious noise you didn’t know could exist. Rolling slowly onto your back, you saw the immediate coating on Jeonghan’s hand and the drops beading down his wrist. He caught one with his tongue, licking all the way back up like he was cleaning the juice from a melted popsicle, and you almost couldn’t watch him. In fact, you were exhausted. There wasn’t anything left for you to offer, and the thought of moving from his bed when your core felt this utterly sore and your muscles this tight set a perfectly timed cue for your eyes to fall shut. It was heavenly.
Nonetheless, Jeonghan had a very specific rule. There was no staying past your session, and he was often strikingly clear about it. But  this was the first time you’d been pushed to such a degree. He must be able to recognize that it was only a short nap you needed, and perhaps a quick minute under the shower to rid your skin of the sticky sweat.
Out of the blue, something was tossed onto your face. It was your t-shirt earlier stripped and thrown to the floor by Jeonghan. Cracking an eye open and peeling away the fabric to hang loosely from your grip, you sighed. He had already slipped back into his exercise pants.
“Seriously? I’m exhausted.”
He threw a loose flannel over the long, beaming red scrapes that you had clawed down his back, shaking his head with a huff.
“I’m not saying you need to get out right now. I’ve got a dinner with the parents at eight.” Jeonghan proceeded to drop the rest of your undergarments onto bed. “So, you gotta be gone by a quarter to, alright?”
Swallowing dryly, you nodded.
“Alright.”
Tumblr media
The next morning, you were seated on the edge of your bed, staring with bleary eyes at the smooth, red Love Card that was initialed to its fifth circle, leaving only eight more sessions with Jeonghan. Though you approached the café with nothing more than an intention to earn money (even if the sex would be inexplicably dull), you were beginning to presume that there was more to this business than you thought. Because the sex wasn’t dull. It was concerningly amazing. And the very man who you had sworn to maintain a no-strings-attached type relationship with was throwing you for a loop. But he was boundary driven.
Be ready to go by this time. No sparkly clothes. Leave nothing in the washroom. Don’t show up here. Don’t show up there. Don’t text me unless this. Don’t call me unless that. Jeonghan knew very explicitly that you were a simple trick to relieving his stress and fulfilling his sexual desires, yet, anything further than that was laughably impossible. And, besides, it’s not like you needed to be in love or have this dazzling, perfect boyfriend. There was too much on your plate already.
You had gone to bed in a thick wool sweater, layered with the heaviest comforter you had due to the broken heating. Ignoring the cold, your next-door neighbours had found themselves in another drunken argument, forcing you to hear the unnerving crack of beer bottles and an outrageous number of insults, ranging from the very straightforward, ‘ridiculous bitch” to the audacious, “go fuck yourself, narcissistic prick.”
Thankfully, the dramatics ended just before three am.
You set the Love Card back on your nightstand. After you splashed mild water onto your face from the sink, you started multitasking, attempting to brush your teeth and remove your pyjama bottoms at the same time. Then, there was a knock at your door. You spared a glance through the peephole while the toothbrush hung from the corner of your mouth and the frigid air hit your bare legs. Upon recognizing the face reflected through the fisheye lens, you nearly choked on the mint-flavoured spit collected at the back of your throat, which forced you to unpleasantly compose yourself at the kitchen sink.
He knocked again, and you pulled the door open almost immediately, probably appearing as though you just hiked through the wilderness. Jeonghan’s eyes widened as he smiled at you.
“Damn. Sleep well?” He remarked, looking you up and down.
You were in the midst of a yawn as you answered. “Um, yes. I-I mean no. Wait, I don’t know what I’m saying. What was the question?”
Jeonghan nodded. “I’ll take that as a no.” He then reached into the pocket on his flannel coat. “Anyways, I have your phone. You left it on my bedside table the other night. Figured it’s kind of useful, I guess.”
“Oh my god. I did that?” You winced, realizing you must have been so tired and discombobulated from Jeonghan blowing your brains out that you forgot. “It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not a big deal.”
Leaning your temple against the door, you sighed. “How was that dinner thing with your parents? Was it any fun?”
The boy shook his head, pulling out his car keys and tossing them from hand to hand. “No. It was all business bullshit. What they want me to do with my future after I graduate uni. How to be responsible with my money since they think I’m gonna blow it in a few years. Trying to structure my life around stuff I don’t really give a damn about.”
“O-Oh…” You frowned, “well, was there at least good food?”
Jeonghan stopped playing with his keys and titled his head at you. “Yeah,” he said, his eyes gentle, “they had great red velvet cake.”
Unfortunately, your neighbours must have woken up and decided it was a little too peaceful at such an hour, because you heard a loud, clanging thump echo from the room beside yours, like someone had dropped a metal pot or pan on the ground. Of course, the yelling started.
It didn’t last nearly as long compared to the night before, just a few scolding comments which were ultimately muffled. You wondered what Jeonghan was thinking as he blinked at the neighbour’s door and realized how despairing the narrow, dimly-lit hallway looked. After visiting his high-end apartment numerous times based in the luxury core of the city, with its beautiful architecture and sparkle, you were frankly a bit humiliated he was witnessing this drab part of your life – the reason you were seeking his service in the first place. You apologized through your teeth for the commotion, though Jeonghan merely shrugged.
“It’s better than nothing, right?”
“Yeah, that’s true. But those two next door can be a handful sometimes. I don’t get it. If they hate each other, then just break up. Get divorced. It’s like they want to be miserable on purpose.”
“Bet you wish you could get the hell outta here, huh?”
“All the time.” You replied wistfully. “I’m thinking of going to the mall today, actually. I need a new bath towel. Whatever gets me away.”
“You want a ride there?” Jeonghan asked, shaking his keys.
At that, you smiled a little too wide. “Maybe.”
Tumblr media
Carefully, you picked up a thin, glass bottle of pink perfume from the display counter, tilting the liquid back and forth as the lights gleamed off the gold nozzle. Everything inside the store was diamond bright and almost blinding, while the air smelled strongly of expensive floral. The employees were tailored in smooth, sophisticated suits, which made you more petrified than usual to touch anything, hence your very delicate inspection of the perfume as you waited for Jeonghan to finish his conversation with the front clerk. Since his father’s collection was sold at the boutique, Jeonghan seemed to have a cordial relationship with the staff, and they had recognized him almost immediately.
As most of their merchandise was quite expensive, you always ignored the boutique until Jeonghan suggested you stop by. It didn’t help that there was actually some cute clothing begging to be bought, though you knew one swift glance at the price tag would change your mind. You brought the perfume bottle close to your nose and inhaled lightly.
“What does it smell like?” Jeonghan asked.
You sniffed again. “It’s sweet, though it’s not strong.”
“Let me smell.” He said, and so you raised the bottle up to his nose. Jeonghan wrapped his hand around yours as he took a breath, shaking his head in disapproval. “That’s all wrong. I don’t like it.”
“It is kind of high schoolish.” You told him, setting the test bottle back onto the counter as though you were laying down a jewel. “I just need a new scent, you know? I actually love that one bottle your mom did, the summer tropic one. It’s so peachy but mild. I’m running out.”
“For real?” Jeonghan laughed, his eyes skipping over the different shaped containers. “You use one of my mom’s perfumes?”
“Um, yeah. Have you even smelled the tropic one? It’s amazing.”
“I don’t hang around her laboratory too often.” He replied. “It gives me a big fucking headache. Smells like this place times a hundred.”
You shrugged. “I guess that’s understandable.”
Suddenly, Jeonghan had latched his hand around your elbow, pulling you around to the opposite side of the counter. He grabbed a tall, slim bottle that was made from foggy glass and a chrome silver pump.
“C’mon, give me your wrist for a second.” He said. “Try this scent. I don’t know why, but it reminds me of you.”
Pulling up your sleeve, you stuck out your wrist and allowed him to spray a thin layer against the skin. Then, you sniffed the area. At first, your forehead crinkled as you attempted to decipher its concoction of notes. There was something a little fresh and cool, but then there was this oddly mature hint of a distinguished floral scent. You couldn’t pinpoint the flower, but it was certainly addictive and very intriguing.
“It’s called Orchid Night. Smells great, right?”
“Yeah,” you smiled, rolling your sleeve back down “just don’t tell me what it costs. It has to be at least fifty bucks.”
“Try sixty-nine,” Jeonghan corrected, “plus tax, don’t forget.”
Immediately, you grabbed the bottle from his hand and returned the perfume to its small podium on the countertop.
“Well, let’s put it back before we break it.”
Jeonghan smirked. “I could buy it for you.”
For a split second, you were tempted to succumb, though you snapped from the thought at the last second and shook your head.
“No way. I wouldn’t let you, anyways.”
He buried his hands in his pockets, rolling those gold-copper eyes of his. Jeonghan made sure to purposefully bump into you as he walked down the bright aisle toward the clothes. “Honestly, you’re so boring, man. That scent, on you? It would be sexy.” The boy then turned around to smother you with a burning gaze. “But, fine. Have it your way.”
You hurried after him, scoffing lightheartedly to camouflage the fact your heart was beating like a broken pendulum. Jeonghan had stopped at a rack of neatly pressed clothing to sort through the hangers.
“My way is the better way,” you smiled, “always.”
Jeonghan moved the long-sleeved button-up he’d been eyeing back onto the rack, merely blowing out a puff of air.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Besides, I still need to get my bath towel.”
“We can find it on the bottom floor. At the new essentials store that just opened up. The Shower Duck, I think.”
“The Shower what?”
He couldn’t help but cackle while repeating himself. “The Shower Duck. You thought I said something else, didn’t you?”
When you were too tongue-twisted to reply, Jeonghan decided to place his fingers softly on your chin, holding your head still as he leaned in very closely to whisper, “you’re such a dirty girl, you know that?” You almost hated how casually he pulled away and continued to examine the clothing, as though he hadn’t just murmured a lascivious comment into your ear while the employees were standing a mere few meters across the store. More than anything, you desired the courage to deservingly tease him in return, to break that relaxed little shtick of his. Except, you weren’t confident nor subtle enough to attempt anything in public.
But when your eyes landed on that brand-new lingerie set wrapped primly on the nearest mannequin, you had a wonderful idea.
Tumblr media
“No, are you being serious? Why? Why?”
His blunt fingernails sunk into the leather arms of the desk chair, scraping upward, as equally frustrated with your cruel antics as he was aroused and impatient. Maybe it was somewhat meanspirited to strut the thin, beautiful lace and ribbons curled around your body in a baby pink, and indeed, there was a moment where you pondered leniency, though, you severed the thought, because Jeonghan would surely tear each garter and bow from your outfit like it hadn’t cost anything at all. Pursing your bottom lip, you smiled, sinister and cold.
“I am being serious,” you stated firmly, nearing closer to his desk chair, “your hands won’t touch a single part of me, Jeonghan.”
He glared up at you with a dark, flickering fire in his eyes,  as if he were already weighing the consequence to breaking such rules. You began to sit comfortably on the boy’s lap, curling your arms around his neck while maintaining the intensity of the stare.
“And, if you do, I’ll grab my things and leave. It’ll just be you and your hand, for the rest of the night.” Purposefully, you brushed delicate lips, featherlight, along his warm, red-tinged ear, to which you could practically feel him harden underneath you upon the whisper, “and there’ll be nothing you can do other than remembering how good it felt when I was in your lap, grinding down on you, baby boy, just like this.”
Slowly and with focus, you rolled your hips in a deep, smooth gyration, ensuring Jeonghan felt the heavy pressure against all the right places. His hands keened for your waist, so you immediately reminded him of your unnegotiable rules, forcing them to settle on the arms of the chair. He drew in a sharp breath. And then, he started to laugh, like a beaten protagonist receiving their first, acrid taste of defeat. Jeonghan titled his head back to smile very lazily at you.
“Evil.” He said. “You’re fucking evil.”
“Mmhm,” you agreed, continuing the unhurried, steadfast pace of your hips rolling back and forth, observing with poorly hidden glee as the boy lost his smile, “but you’ll still cum, won’t you, Jeonghan?”
Before he could sneak in a clever rebuttal, you adjusted yourself even lower onto his lap, digging your nails down the back of his neck as you circled a thorough motion against his erection. Admittedly, it was difficult to maintain the domineering act. Even through the black material of the slacks, his cock was managing to create a friction with your lace underwear, a friction so rough yet fruitless that you were already tempted to take him, full and aching inside you. In order to distract yourself, you licked the tender side to Jeonghan’s neck, looping your tongue in a messy, warm pattern overtop a sensitive vein.
“Ff-fuck,” Jeonghan stuttered, scraping harshly along the chair, “you devilish little girl, c-can’t believe you’re g’nna make me cum like this—b-but it feels so damn good the way you’re moving, baby.”
You suckled until you’d drawn a shiny, wine-coloured hue to the surface of Jeonghan’s skin, to mark a dark bruise as a keepsake. He kept breathing through a parted mouth, each exhale shakier and more erratic than the last, his knuckles hard like stone while they gratingly tensed and betrayed his frustration at not being able to touch you. With slow, teasing hands, you began to drag them down his chest, nails clawing at the expensive fabric of his dress shirt. Jeonghan squirmed. He clenched his jaw and cursed rough under his breath. You focused on where his cock was poking you to apply the most dizzying pressure thus far, rolling your hips until something inside Jeonghan snapped and you felt him cum.
“Jesus—fuck!” He shouted, the loudest you had ever heard the boy, and there was a notable tear in his usually soft voice. “Keep going, keep going,” Jeonghan panted, squeezing his eyes shut, “keep fucking moving just like that, sweetheart. A-Ahh, ff-fuck, feels s-so good—"
At the pulsating sensation right beneath your core, you submitted to Jeonghan’s wish and continued grinding down, even if you were beginning to tire at your lack of stamina. However, there came a point where you were too breathless to maintain such a pace, so you trickled to a halt and steadied your hands on his firm shoulders. He tossed his head back, neck leaned against the edge of the chair. The hazy, glass look to his brown eyes and the rose glow smeared on each cheek made it appear as though he’d just touched down from heaven. As you shifted slightly in Jeonghan’s lap, you noticed the white stream of cum that had soaked through his pants, and that somehow, he was still hard.
“I didn’t know you could beg, Jeonghan.” You remarked, grinning, meanwhile attempting to catch your breath.
He shook his head. “Don’t expect it too much.”
“Well, I can tell you’re satisfied, either way.”
He chuckled, brushing some of the loose hairs from his face. You felt his hands settle upon your waist’s bare skin, warm and squeezing. In that moment, you just didn’t possess the same acuteness to scold him.
“Almost,” Jeonghan huffed, “but, what do you suppose you’ll do to please yourself, sweetheart?” He leaned forward, until his forehead was just a sliver away from bumping yours, the boy sliding a hand down your abdomen and beneath the lace underwear. As he stroked the tips of his fingers along your slit, he smirked. “I’ve never felt someone so wet before, dripping all over my fingers and I’m barely touching you. Did it turn you on that much, sweetheart? Feeling my hard cock right underneath this needy pussy of yours?” Jeonghan teased with a smirk and a low, calm tone. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to duct tape his mouth shut or allow him to keep talking, as there was something about his honeyed voice which wound you up like clockwork.
Yet, before you could even start the syllable of a response, Jeonghan pushed you strongly from his lap, his hands glued to your waist as he guided you to stumble against the bed. Your back hit the mattress, the sheets puffing up around you. And then, Jeonghan was kissing you, lips clashing messily while he took advantage of the switched power dynamic to run his hands over your every inch. One second, they were cupping your breasts overtop the baby pink bralette. Another second, they were grabbing at your ass and kneading so desperately. You were being ravaged. It was overwhelming, it was gratifying, it was needed beyond belief.
“Hey,” Jeonghan said, separating his mouth from the side of your throat to stare at you with an oddly sentimental eye, “before I get all up in your guts and everything— you look beautiful. Even if you did choose this outfit to be a big fucking tease.” His fingers brushed down the edge of your jaw, and he smiled at you in a way that wasn’t clever or teetering on sarcasm. Your heart leapt like a little frog in your chest.
“Really?” You questioned him, not because you didn’t believe the lingerie suited your figure, but rather, you weren’t expecting this sweetness from someone who was always so quick to get rid of you.
He nodded, raising a suspecting eyebrow. “Yeah, really. What, you think I’m lying to you or something?”
“No, I don’t think that,” you answered quickly, curling your fingers into the bedsheets, “I just—I wasn’t… Uh, never mind.”
“Alright,” Jeonghan laughed, lowering his head to delicately kiss your cheek, and then your neck, “you’re a bit strange sometimes, you know that?” He mumbled against the sensitive skin, even daring to dig his knee between your thighs to make you increasingly pliable.
“I-I know,” you stuttered, unable to help your embarrassing voice crack. But you still smiled, letting Jeonghan explore and pleasure your body with an uncharacteristic tenderness for the remainder of the night.
Tumblr media
Twelve am.
Usually, at this time, you’d be at the bottom floor of his apartment complex, seated by the lobby water fountain. You’d be examining your face with a pocket mirror, awaiting the yellow taxi cab, and trying to avoid eye contact with the wealthy businesspeople filtering from the elevators in glamourous congregation.
However, tonight was different.
Tonight, you were in Jeonghan’s bed, with a white sheet covering the lower half of your bodies, an ear pressed to his bare, warm chest while you breathed him in like the wind on a bright summer’s day. You felt his fingertips trace long figure eights down your spine and then dance back up to the subtle curve of your shoulder blades. Sometimes it tickled, other times it was a touch so soft it was hardly there, and in between you thought he might have been tracing words. The room was quiet. But good quiet— the comfortable quiet. And then you heard Jeonghan speak into the crown of your head while his hand stilled at your waist.
“Did that salon ever call you back?” He asked.
You sighed, focusing on your thumb which brushed a small freckle on his pectoral muscle. “They emailed me, and said their position was already filled, but that they’ll try to look for another opening.”
Jeonghan rubbed your hip. “That’s good, right? I mean, they didn’t just flat out reject you. They’re gonna keep you in mind.”
“It’s better than what I’m used to getting,” you answered, pressing your lips together and tilting your head up at him.
And, that’s when it struck you, like someone had just clanged a bell right beside your head. You were still in Jeonghan’s bed. You were still in Jeonghan’s apartment. You were still with Jeonghan. Feeling as though you’d broken some vastly significant cardinal rule, you operated on a strange basis of panic and autopilot, already seated at the edge of the mattress while you tucked your underwear back on.
“I’m sorry,” you spewed, reaching for your shirt next and straightening it out frantically in your lap, “the time escaped me. I-I know I have to go. And, my Love Card, I think it’s in my purse or—”
“Can you slow down?” Jeonghan laughed, casting a hand through his loose, disarrayed hair which you had admittedly tugged earlier in the night like your life depended on it. The boy’s arms circled around your midframe, hugging your back to his chest. “I don’t care about that stupid card right now,” Jeonghan hummed into your ear, “stay.”
At that, you almost choked. “Stay? You want me to stay?” You repeated dumbly, dropping the inside-out shirt back onto your lap.
The coldest shiver split down your spine as Jeonghan buried his face against your neck, taking a breath of your scent, kissing your skin.
“Yeah,” he purred, now pecking the soft spot behind your ear, “I want you to stay. Or, if you really want to go home, I won’t stop you.”
“No,” you replied almost immediately, melting into his voice, his touch, his body, “trust me, I’d rather be here.”
Jeonghan’s arms relaxed their snug grip.
“I figured that.”
Tumblr media
Even though you had strongly protested the idea, Jeonghan succeeded at wearing you down akin to an ocean tide forming whorls into rock, and now you were seated before your vanity with an array of makeup scattered at your fingertips as you prepared for a dinner. His parents were going to be there, in addition to some business partners and close friends, which sounded like something from a hellish nightmare. In fact, Jeonghan himself didn’t seem all that eager to attend. He’d been sprawled across your bed for the past half hour, with the long drapes of his coat fanned around him, as he flipped through an old magazine. You were certain he just didn’t want to tough another dinner alone.
After focusing a spritz of perfume to your neck (the orchid one, bought by Jeonghan, because he was very insistent that you not smell like his mother) you shut off the vanity lights and sighed.
“I think I’m ready… Physically though, not mentally.”
Jeonghan yawned, tossing the magazine aside before he pushed himself to sit upright on the bed. He rubbed at his eye.
“Trust me, it’s not going to be the big, royal midnight ball that you’re picturing. My parents have these dinners all the time. You’ll be the centre of attention for a few minutes, and then it’s pretty much just business central from there. You’ll be lucky if you can even get a word in. I stopped trying months ago.”
You smiled at him, feeling slightly better about the situation, and took one last, scrutinizing glance in the mirror. The dress was simple yet elegant, a mute shade of dark blue with a beaded, crystal belt that you had forgotten about, as you discovered it laying behind a stool shoved in your closet. The fabric had an elastic tightness to it and was hemmed shorter than you remembered, just above your fingertips. You tried not to judge or overthink the figure which reflected in the vanity glass, or what Jeonghan’s parents might assume upon their first introduction to someone who was so clueless on their accolades. It was merely a dinner.
“Stop worrying so much,” Jeonghan hummed, sensing that you were at the forefront of a spiral. His hands settled to your hips and he caught your eye through the mirror. “No one is going to judge you, or poke fun at you, or say anything mean. I promise.” He then grabbed your winter coat off the bed, helping you slide into the arms, and even doing up the buttons. “You’re gorgeous.” Jeonghan said, tapping your chin.
It didn’t help that he could fluster you so easily.
Tumblr media
Joshua wasn’t at all who you expected him to be, while simultaneously encompassing everything you would indeed expect from the position of Jeonghan’s closest friend. He was a juxtaposition personified. Slick, ash blonde hair combed into a handsome wave, eyes which twinkled like the restaurant’s diamond chandelier, and a soothing voice which could be a cup of warm milk on a frosty day, though his interactions with Jeonghan portrayed him as childlike and frivolous. He greeted you, at first with a quick hug. You heard him exhale deeply.
“Wow,” Joshua commented, retreating to shake your hand, “you smell amazing! I mean—well, I hope that doesn’t sound weird.”
You laughed, and wondered how someone could smile with such a prettiness. “Thank you! I’d be upset if you didn’t notice, actually.”
Joshua continued to shake your hand. “Oh, yeah, agree. It’s wonderful to meet you. Jeonghan’s been trying to hide you, it seems.”
“Go shove a break stick in your mouth,” Jeonghan scoffed, blowing a loose piece of hair from his eyes, “and stop shaking her hand like that. You’re gonna snap her whole arm off.”
Finally, Joshua released his grip, and your arm fell back to your side like a limp noodle. His cheeks were starting to turn pink.
“I was not. Anyways—” he nodded at you, “like I said, nice to meet you. I hope we’ll talk more tonight and I’ll pick your brain.”
“Sure thing,” you answered, waving the boy off as he returned to the dinner table before facing Jeonghan. “He seems nice.”
“And totally into you. I haven’t seen him shake someone’s hand like that since I introduced him to Elouise from France. He’s gonna turn into a lost puppy all over again. Bet he’ll try to sweet talk you later.”
“Can’t wait.” You grinned, already giggling through your teeth.
Jeonghan c0nsquently thwapped your forehead with his finger.
However, meeting Jeonghan’s parents was starkly different than the good-humoured Joshua. They both appeared cross, and firm, and before you had even shaken their hands you were forced to wipe yours against your dress. The father was a bit softer around the edges, showing you a pleased smile that reminded you instantaneously of Jeonghan, while the mother was stone-faced and seemed as though she hadn’t slouched since birth. Even when she complimented your fragrance, there was a tartness to her voice which made it sound disingenuous.
“Well, Jeonghan,” she said, clasping her hands together, “I’m glad to finally see you with a lovely lady on your arm. I didn’t think it was possible that you could settle for someone after being with Baejin.”
“Oh?” The father piped up, “you’re my son’s girlfriend?”
Before you could respond, Jeonghan had beaten you to it.
“No, she’s…” he bit his lip hard, “she’s just a friend. Mom kept nagging that I always come to these dinners alone, and she was down.”
For some reason, it felt like someone had pierced a pin straight through your heart – a very tiny hole which shouldn’t hurt all that much, yet stung like flesh to orange, glowing metal. In fact, there was a visible shift in your countenance, from a nervous smile to a sunken frown, but you were able to veil it very quickly and pretend nothing was wrong. Why should you feel so disappointed that Jeonghan had introduced you as a friend? The promiscuous nature of your relationship didn’t immediately loop you two together as soulmates, or lovers, or even the mildest beginnings of boyfriend and girlfriend. You tried to refocus yourself.
Jeonghan’s mother nodded. “Even if she isn’t your next Baejin, it’s nice to meet a new face. The dinner talk might bore you no doubt.”
“No, not at all—” you forced a smile, “I’m just excited to be here.”
Tumblr media
It was easier to endure the night than you thought, because true to Jeonghan’s word, the conversation was a bunch of business lingo that you didn’t exactly understand, with the occasional question flitted to you by Joshua who sat across the table. You had completely emptied your glass of ice water, and were halfway through your wine when two fancy, tuxedoed servers stopped by the table to collect everyone’s dishes. A distant relative was seated to Jeonghan’s right, and they had swept him into a discussion of whether or not he was interested in pursuing his current degree or if he would abandon it to work fulltime for his father’s brand. Meanwhile, Joshua had whisper-shouted your name.
You raised an eyebrow, “what?”
“Are you getting dessert?” The blonde asked, already shoving a small, plastic menu to his face. “I can’t decide what I want.”
“I guess so,” you picked up an extra menu sitting by a purple wine bottle and started to browse the list of decadent food.
Joshua sighed, “I usually get the cheesecake… but, I’m torn. What if I want the caramel apple baked pudding with black truffles?”
“The caramel apple baked what?” You questioned, laughing from the absolute mouthful that Joshua just worded so effortlessly.
“I know, I know. It’s a jumble. But my family and I come here all the time so I’ve gotten these names down pat. What are you thinking?”
“Um, I’m not sure. I’ve never been here before, actually.”
His eyes, glistering and delighted, locked with yours. “Can I recommend you something, then?” Joshua said while smiling. “Red velvet cake. It’s right at the bottom. Not to mention the slice is huge so there’s always leftovers for the next day. It’s a favourite here.”
The relative responsible for dragging Jeonghan into another trite conversation concerning his future had excused themselves from the table. He was finally able to return his attention to you, and you slid over the dessert menu so he could pick something. You noted that Jeonghan’s hand had fallen onto your thigh, right at the hem of your dress, and you could only surmise that trouble was brewing. Joshua took a sip from his water glass, then settled it back on the table while subtly eyeing you.
“So, I’ve never seen you around before. Are you in school?”
You tapped your nails against the white table cloth, shaking your head, “no—I had to drop my program. It just wasn’t what I thought it would be and, well, I took a huge hit financially. So, no school.”
“Not everything is going to be a bullseye,” Joshua said, “I’m sure there’ll be more opportunity down the road. This other friend of mine, his name is Mingyu, he does this thing called the Love Café—” the boy then gestured to Jeonghan, “and I know he’s done it once before. Have you heard of it? Maybe it’s not up your alley, but I hear it’s good money.”
The suggestion had quite visibly stunned you. It seemed that Jeonghan was intent to keep the foundation of your relationship as covert as possible, which prompted his ‘friends’ comment before dinner, therefore you had no choice but to follow the rouse, even if the boy was currently sliding his hand further up the inside of your thigh, pushing inch by inch under your dress. Jeonghan didn’t contribute a single word.
“Um, the name sounds familiar. I’ll have to look it up.” You then glanced at him, hanging his head over the menu like a child who forgot their glasses, probably hiding some million-watt smirk.
“Are you having dessert?” Joshua asked his friend.
Jeonghan sat up straight, nodding, “I am.”
“The red velvet cake?”
“Vanilla ice cream. The one that comes on the skillet.”
“Oh, that one’s seriously good,” Joshua groaned, “ask them to put a chocolate chip cookie on the side. It gets all warm and—”
“Joshua,” the young lady beside him, probably in her late twenties, with petal-shaped, twinkling eyes similar to his and ice-like smooth skin, suddenly wrapped her hand around his arm, “can you come outside with me for a few minutes? I think I left my wallet in the car.”
He pushed out his chair. “Sure thing—guys, I’ll be back in a few. I need to help my cousin. If the waiter comes, order for me please.”
While you might have promised Joshua to follow through on his unnecessarily complicated apple pudding, such thoughts were quick to be discarded the moment he’d left the table, as Jeonghan had given you much more to think about. The boy’s hand was wedged between the apex of your thighs with two fingers pressed flat against your underwear. You felt heat, and the faintest burning of pleasure, one that yearned for you to start a gentle undulation against his hand because your unruly body was already eager for stimulation. Jeonghan picked up his wine glass.
“What are you doing?” You tried to shelter the whisper from the table’s guests, hoping the business speech was too engrossing.
As laid back as an ironing board, Jeonghan took a long gulp from his drink, swishing the wine from cheek to cheek before he swallowed. He set the wide-rimmed glass back down and wiped his mouth.
“What do you mean, ‘what am I doing?’” He said, raising an eyebrow at you as though you’d conjured a make-believe tale. However, the instant he started to slide up his index finger so it could push firmly against your clit, a smirk penetrated that complacent expression.
You grabbed his wrist, stared him dead in those honey-brown eyes. “Are you insane?” the whisper was harsh, “we’re in public.”
He tilted his head indifferently. “What’s your point, love? I get to play with your pussy whenever I want. It’s mine now. Remember?”
The dirty-mouthed comment split a fire beneath your cheeks like a flint cracking steel. Not only that, but Jeonghan studied each minor contort of your face as he slipped two digits beneath your underwear, brushing his fingertips ever so softly around your sensitive clit. You gulped, dry and gritty, hating that your thighs were starting to spread.
“Jeonghan!” A voice called his name from down the table.
Fear gripped your poor heart like latex glove. It was an older relative, asking him to pass down the remaining bottle full of wine.
“Oh, such a nice boy!” She chirped.
You nearly gawked at the remark considering the immoral placement of his hand and what he was doing. On the contrary – as much as you wanted to be embarrassed for allowing Jeonghan to touch you in public viewing– he knew his talents much too well, and the manner in which he used your own arousal to lubricate the massaging motion of his finger to your clit was an astounding bliss. Your legs fell wider apart, inviting him to explore a more rigorous touch, and that’s when Jeonghan curled his two fingers inside of you until his knuckles couldn’t fit.
Before your pinched expression could be caught by anyone at the table, you looked straight down at your lap, watching his wrist work beneath the navy-blue fabric. In fact, very faintly, you could hear the squelch from his digits pumping deep and slow into your warmth. Your bottom lip was quivering as he drew them out, now running the long length of his fingers upward to graze beneath the hood of your clit. He repeated a stroking gesture. It triggered the nerves to swell and pulse.
“I see Joshua walking back,” Jeonghan murmured, an arrogance thick in his voice, “and you don’t want him to find out about this, do you? Or, maybe I’m wrong.” He slid his entire hand beneath your underwear and cupped your centre, squeezing like he owned it. “Maybe you want him to know you’re such a whore of a girl that you’ll take my fingers anywhere. I mean, look at how much you’ve opened your legs, and I didn’t even ask you to. I love when you behave just for me, honey.”
Joshua collapsed back at the table with a huff, combing some snow flurries from his hair. “We found the wallet.” He said.
Yet, you couldn’t even bring yourself to face him. Jeonghan had spread your lips with his index and ring finger, using his middle digit to make rhythmic, deep circles around the bud. An erotic whine escaped your teeth and Joshua’s eyes widened; his face tinged with concern.
“Are you alright?” He questioned. “Did you get a Charlie horse?”
“N-No, I’m fine, really.” You composed yourself with a weak smile, and took a sip from your wine. “I got one of those rib pains.”
The blonde boy winced. “Ouch, those hurt big time.”
Honestly, you didn’t think it was possible to endure dessert without revealing to some degree that you were being, well, stretched open by Jeonghan. It was sheer torture staring at the waiter while he took your order, knowing the boy was lazily pumping his fingers inside you with a half-smirk seated so comfortably to his face. When that huge, delicious slice of cream red velvet cake was placed before you on the table, you could only fork a few pathetic bites, and when Joshua offered you to try a spoonful from his warm apple pudding, you nearly squealed the word no as Jeonghan rolled your sore clit between his fingertips. The most egregious aspect to the entire daubable was that the boy stripped your orgasm from you at the very last second, like stopping a rollercoaster just before it tips over the downhill plummet.
“How was the ice cream?” Joshua asked him innocently.
You observed with horror as Jeonghan brought that sinful hand to his mouth, lapping his tongue against his two fingertips as though he were actually savouring a sweet and flavourful vanilla.
“Delicious.” He grinned, catching your mortified stupor from the corner of his eye. “I’d taste it again in a heartbeat, Shua.”
Tumblr media
Dropping the slice of bread into a shallow bowl, you used the spatula to submerge it underneath the milk, egg and cinnamon mixture until it was completely coated. Then, you slid the bread onto your buttered frying pan to let its surfaces crisp and brown. Since you began utilizing the service granted by the Love Café, life at your depressing excuse for an apartment was becoming more bearable, though your ultimate goal would be to ditch the paper-thin walls and insult-spewing neighbours once money was no longer a prevalent issue. You were still insistent on supporting yourself too, if you could ever score a job.
You flipped the bread onto its opposite face, pressing it down with the spatula as the pan sizzled and the butter popped. A few days had passed since your last intimacy with Jeonghan, and the proof would have been stamped to your Love Card if the boy had actually written his initials like usual. The thing was, Jeonghan – who had always been so firm and unwavering on the rules of the café – was now skirting about the regulations as though they were optional. There were days when he didn’t even initial the card, but still delivered his transactions. In fact, you were almost positive that sex had happened more than twelve times and that you could be renewing your card if wanted (you didn’t).
As silly and cliché as it sounded, you liked Jeonghan. You constantly thought about him and missed him and wondered what he was doing while you were trapped in bed listening to another argument between your spiteful neighbours. There was always a deep, electric pounding in your chest upon weaving the tips of your fingers along his skin, touching him, exploring him. Yet, when he held you close, tucked your body tight against his like there was nothing surrounding you but ice, comfort found a home in your belly like a warm, homecooked meal.
After spilling some icing sugar and strawberries across the toast, now fried a delicious shade of golden-brown, you took a seat at the counter and dug in. There had been an occasion where Jeonghan brought you breakfast after warping your legs into complete gelatine (you had no idea that kitchen table sex could be so fiery and passionate), which proved to be a pleasant morning, where you could still feel the softness of his thumb as he kindly brushed some whipped cream from your bottom lip. You sighed, sticking a strawberry into your mouth. How foolish it might be to fall this far and this devotedly for someone like him.
But you didn’t want to stop yourself.
In fact, you reached for your phone across the counter, swiped into your messages, and decided to be bold. You texted him.
[  9:29 AM ]: Hey! I know that I’m not supposed to send you anything unrelated to our business lol, but
[9:29 AM ]: Just wondering if you’re available to grab a coffee with me or something along those lines?
Setting the phone down and turning it over so you wouldn’t be tempted to helplessly wait for a notification, you continued eating. After scraping the last few pieces of toast and syrup around the plate, there was a vibration and a quick, ding! Strangely, you were starting to sweat.
[ Jeonghan | 9:34 AM ]: Sorry. In a lecture rn.
Of course, your surge of bravery immediately dehydrated, and you decided it was best to pretend that you hadn’t asked him anything at all – for your confidence’s sake. The next two hours were spent cleaning the kitchen, taking a short walk outside the complex to feel the Northern air refresh your face, and finally, a long bath, in which you nearly fell asleep and drowned as the steam lulled your eyes shut. While wrapping your body snug in that new, hot pink bath towel, you heard a knock at the door. You assumed it was the painter who occupied the room directly below yours, as you had borrowed his vacuum the night before, though you weren’t exactly raving at the thought of answering him in a towel.
However, by squinting through the fisheye lens, you were shocked (and greatly relieved) to discover that it wasn’t the middle-aged painter dressed in his splattered, dirty overalls, but Jeonghan.
And he was holding a drink.
You unlocked the door.
“Uh, hello after all. What are you doing here?”
He smiled at you and held up the cardboard cup, “my lecture ended, and I thought I’d do you a solid. Couldn’t remember if it was two sugars-one cream, or two creams-one sugar. So I tossed a coin.”
“What exactly was the result?” You giggled.
“Heads,” Jeonghan answered, “two sugars-one cream it is.”
“You’re lucky that’s correct.”
Accepting the warm cup from his hand, you set it carefully on the kitchen counter. When you returned to the door, Jeonghan was evidently ogling you. He really suited the image of a casual university student when he wasn’t dressed to gems and jewels in his sumptuous clothing.
“I knew the hot pink towel would look good on you.”
You rolled your eyes. “I’m not dropping it, so forget it.”
“Whoa,” he chuckled, shaking his head, “I didn’t ask you to drop it, sweetheart. I’d rather you not actually, with this door wide open and everything.”
“Did I really just hear that from you, Mr, Dinner Table?” Folding your arms, you stared him down with an accusing expression.
He held up one finger in defense. “First of all, that was under the table, so unless someone bumped their fork or something, then we were pretty much safe. This is you dropping your whole towel right in the doorway like there isn’t a weirdo probably peeping you across the hall as we speak. And I’m not letting anyone look at you like that, ever.”
“Fine,” you sighed, hoping he couldn’t spot the flustered heart pumping your chest beneath the towel, “you’ve made your point.”
Jeonghan checked his silver wrist watch, “fuck. I gotta get going, need to be at the studio so I can be a taper dummy again.”
“Oh, okay,” you nodded, “talk to y—”
Suddenly, the boy was cupping each side of your face in his hands, and his lips pressed soft but quick to your forehead. Jeonghan then pinched your thigh under the towel, a gesture which felt oddly endearing rather than sexual, before he left the corridor.
“Later!” He’d called.
Shutting the door, you returned to your seat at the counter, holding the coffee cup up to your mouth as you took a small, nervous sip.
How could you let yourself fall this easily for him?
Tumblr media
Jeonghan’s washroom was somehow nicer than your entire apartment, and you were fairly certain that your eyes had never seen so much white-grey marble, all squeaky-clean and aglow with lights. He’d shot you a text roughly an hour ago, right after he was released from the painful effort required to keep Joshua’s peewee soccer players in check, wondering if you were available to come over. Of course, the innocence to the term ‘come over’ was nothing more than a euphemism, a means of sugar coating what Jeonghan actually intended: to be inside you no doubt. And since the boy was so drained and unwilling to instigate any work himself, Jeonghan decided that a steaming, hot bath should do.
Well – a bath which involved you seated on his dick. The tub was dark grey tile, square-shaped, and practically the size of a small jacuzzi. It even had a bench to sit on. While it had been difficult at first to simply cockwarm the boy – when all you could feel was how deeply he spearheaded into your sensitive spot and how this shock would ripple from your abdomen at even his gentlest movement– you knew he wasn’t looking to make things quick and temporary. Therefore, you settled into his lap, wrapping your arms around Jeonghan’s neck while his circled your waist beneath the water. Both of you were starting to fall asleep.
“Jeonghan,” you whispered, lifting your head from his shoulder, only to remember that you were indeed naked and this heat lapping around you was definitely not a blanket, “can I tell you something?”
With his eyes still shut, he nodded, his fingers digging appreciatively at your hips. “Of course you can, baby.” He replied, his voice sounding deeper than usual as he orientated on the edges of sleep.
Smiling, you combed through the damp hairs at his nape, your voice reverberating like a musical instrument off the marble. “Remember the salon place? They called me two days ago, said they had an opening for me and that I could start next Monday. I… I wanted to text you about it, like, as soon as it happened. But I wasn’t sure if I should.”
“What? Really?” Jeonghan was staring at you now, his head straightened from its leisurely position against the edge of the tub and cocked with interest. The fact he seemed so intrigued, that you could read the genuine excitement building up in those brown eyes, had almost made you happier than the salon’s phone call. “Congratulations!” He leaned forward to kiss you, pecking your lips chastely the first time, and then slower come the second, his hands squeezing your thighs.
After a tiny laugh, you sighed contentedly. “Thank you. It’s going to be so nice having my own cashflow and everything. And if I can work my way up and become like, a kickass hair stylist? Can you imagine?”
“Should I grow my hair out more so you can practice cutting it? You’ve got a steady hand, don’t you?” Jeonghan asked, mostly teasing, as you could imagine his parents harping him during his next session at Opal Studio if he looked as though he’d ran through some hedge clippers.
Returning the affection, you kissed the rosy tip of his nose. “I think my hands are pretty steady. We’ll find out I guess, and we’ll know for sure if a huge chunk of your hair falls to the floor.”
Your laughter immediately mingled, and you hid your smile against the boy’s neck, a very moonstruck, loopy smile which felt like riding a blazing comet between the stars. If you were legitimately able to climb higher amongst the business, then you could picture a life in which you didn’t need to lean on Jeonghan and the Love Café for financial support. In fact, there were moments where you felt rather dirty using his money even when he was completely insistent on such matters, like buying food and paying off bills. You held tight to a certain hope, that you could become independent again, and maybe, just maybe, be able to keep this beautiful boy whom you once thought would hate you.
His fingers tapped up your spine, urging you to face him.
“Seriously,” Jeonghan said, “I’m happy for you.”
“I know,” you answered, so quietly he could hardly hear it.
And then, you decided to kiss Jeonghan, placing your damp hand upon his cheek while your mouths slotted together. The contact had lost its grace almost instantly, and the kiss turned from a sweet gesture to a sensuality so thick you could feel it swelter the air and pool between your legs. He offered his tongue for you to suckle by sliding it smoothly into your mouth, and from there, Jeonghan’s intended relaxation had vanished. His hands grazed to the front of your body, reaching up and sliding back and forth over each breast. It wasn’t until Jeonghan began massaging his thumbs in circular motions around your nipples that you moaned into his mouth, a sound which flicked a smirk to his face.
Once his lips were shiny and slick with your saliva, he moved each kiss down the side of your neck, now pinching at your nipples, even twisting gently and making sure to ease the dull throb by rubbing them afterward. It was becoming unbearable. You needed to move. However, the second you started a rhythm in Jeonghan’s lap, he shook his head.
“Be still,” he told you, lightly gripping your chin.
The desperation in your whine was horribly apparent, almost soaking each word. “No Jeonghan, I-I can’t do that anymore—” ignoring him, you continued to grind your hips and move the water around you, feeling his engorged head tick against that one spot of insane pleasure, “I need t’cum now, all over your cock.” With every bounce in his lap, you begged, “please, please, please.” This prompted Jeonghan to grab your waist much tighter than usual and slam you down, holding you still.
“No, not like that,” he grunted, and you wondered if his control was simply otherworldly or if he was just that talented at hiding how good he felt. “I’ll make you cum, sweetheart,” Jeonghan nodded, “but you can’t move. I just want you to sit there, all the way down.”
He then leaned in close to your face, nearly pressing his forehead to yours, and that’s when you felt his thumb brush with a featherlight, fleeting touch across your clit. The sudden stimulation jerked your body. Jeonghan bit his lip and grinned while continuing the sensitive touch, the pressure becoming heavier with each minute that passed. Your thighs started to tremble, and your moans were echoing around the washroom.
The honeyed dirty talk crawled up Jeonghan’s throat. “You’re such a cute little cocksleeve, sweetheart,” he purred, titling his head as he rubbed his thumb faster, “oh, look at you, baby. Shaking and crying and taking it like it’s the only thing you’re good for—” a messy kiss to calm you down, thin strings of saliva hanging in the air each time your mouths separated, “I bet you’re gonna cum for me soon, right?” The boy encouraged, keeping his forehead flush to yours so he could observe with utmost clarity the beautiful contortions of your face. “I know you are, sweetheart. Because it feels so good, right?” You nodded frantically, digging your fingers into his neck like a cat sinking in its claws. Jeonghan’s thumb pushed beneath the hood of your clit, directly massaging the soft bud, and the pleasure inside you leapt to a new high which made you dumbly lose all sense.
“Cum.” Jeonghan commanded so gently, his gaze burning against your eyes, squeezed shut. At the straightforward word, you allowed the sensation to swallow you like a current, and the hot, teary cry you mewled had been quickly snuffed as the boy pushed his lips to yours.
“Can feel you clenching so fucking tight around my cock,” he chuckled, digging his nose into your hair and speaking warmly beside your ear, “and how much you’re throbbing right under my thumb. Must feel so good, sweetheart, cumming all over me like such a good girl.”
You slumped against him, overwhelmed, emptied, and breathing so heavy that you were afraid the oxygen might dwindle completely from your lungs. The fact Jeonghan could remain so composed while buried to the hilt in your heat was something else that frightened you, though, in the moment, you preferred not to think about it, instead concentrating on the distant sensation of Jeonghan drawing galactic shapes to each your shoulder blades.
Hopefully, he’d let you stay the night.
Tumblr media
Once you started the receptionist job at the hair salon, you had bumped into Joshua on a Friday evening. While his platinum blonde look was indeed enchanting and princely, he complained that it was difficult to maintain the roots, and that he often found himself back in the stylist’s chair for a touch up. He’d come in on a whim. Luckily – due to the late hour – there was an open seat, and Joshua puffed a great sigh of relief as he hooked his jacket onto the salon coat hanger. Curious if there was more behind the reason to his abrupt appearance, you conversed with him while he waited for the stylist to tidy up her work area.
That’s when Joshua informed you of the Opal’s Galleria Night, a fashion exhibition which would display Mr. Yoon’s newest edition for his upcoming Spring line. Joshua seemed surprised that you hadn’t known about the Galleria, or, that Jeonghan hadn’t mentioned it to you. Oddly enough, Jeonghan had been radio silent the past three days; not a phone call, or a voice memo, or even a text. Yesterday you had hoped to catch him stuck in the books at the library, but the area where he usually sat was occupied by a study group of freshman. It concerned you a little.
An ungraceful quickie in the washroom after his three-hour lecture ended on Tuesday was your last encounter. Not to mention, there was only one more opening left on your Love Card.
“He didn’t say anything,” you told Joshua, pretending to act indifferent “so… I don’t think he wants me there. It’s not a big deal.”
Yet, that’s not how you truly felt. There had to be some reason for the boy’s keeping you in the dark. Did he not want to explain the ‘friends’ trope to all the Galleria members, like at the dinner? Or, was he thinking that you wouldn’t be interested? It wasn’t easy to seem unphased.
“Jeonghan doesn’t need to invite you,” Joshua had said, “cause I’ll invite you myself. Mr. Yoon said it was more than  fine if I brought someone along. So, why not you? It’ll make the night more fun.”
At first, you vehemently rejected the invite, no matter how sweetly Joshua attempted to rope you into a night of free perfume samples, delicious catering food and a chocolate fountain perfect for dipping strawberries. However, when the hair stylist pulled Joshua away to fix his darkening roots, you had much time to mull over the offer, and even the fact you felt poignant about dismissing it. As you tapped a pen against the desk, staring out the window into the grey, dulling sky, you convinced yourself there could be no harm in attending the Opal’s Galleria Night. Besides, you and Jeonghan weren’t cast in stone. He probably wouldn’t bat any eyelash anyways, knowing his eased nature.
And so, you caught Joshua just before he left.
You told him you’d changed your mind.
Tumblr media
When Jeonghan first saw you at the Opal Galleria, it was from across the ballroom that had been temporarily converted into an exhibition space, stood next to a mannequin draped in a cherub-pink slip dress. Almost comically, he gagged on some sparkling champagne held in a thin and tall glass, though he recovered smoothly as to not interrupt the conversation his father was sharing with the dense crowd. You waved at him, not too noticeably of course, but he either didn’t catch it or had decided to ignore the gesture. Shrugging, you tried not to overthink it.
Mannequins were lined up along both sides of the ballroom, adorned in the mild tones baring semblance to Spring, with the blips of baby blues, clementine oranges, and cream violets transforming the Galleria into an acrylic painting. Jeonghan’s mother took the opportunity to offer some spritzes from her most recent line, which had both you and Joshua smelling like a tulip garden. While exploring the room with the blonde boy, you stopped to examine a mannequin dressed in a relaxed, high-waisted pant and a lace camisole that seemed breezy and flowing. This collection was definitely tamer compared to the usual extravagance you had always seen through the store windows and in magazines.
“Would you wear it?” Joshua asked, chewing on a strawberry that he might as well have plucked from thin air.
Tilting your head and squinting, you took a moment to contemplate. “If it was my size I might, if I could find a price hanging off somewhere. But I don’t want to even touch it. Mannequins are weird.”
“No prices are usually displayed at the Gallerias,” Joshua informed you, “though, I will agree. It’s probably a Toy Story thing where they all start moving at night when no one’s here. Spooky, huh?”
You sighed at him, “thanks for the nightmare material.”
Suddenly, there was a tap to your bare shoulder, and you nearly yelped like a cat with a stepped-on tail as Joshua laughed between bites from his juicy strawberry. Turning around, you were met with Jeonghan, who had this flat-lined, unenthusiastic smile hardly touching the corners of his mouth. He looked rather agitated in fact, and you felt cold inside.
“Hey!” Joshua exclaimed, punching his friend’s arm. “Finally escape your dad’s novella-length speech on the pink slip?”
The crowd once gathered around the mannequin had started to disperse, with the visitors now exploring the rest of the outfits.
Jeonghan hardly payed any mind to his friend, throwing out an impatient, “yeah, it was whatever,” before he began questioning you. He started with a rather inhospitable, “why are you here?”
“I invited her,” Joshua announced, “since I ran into her at that salon place. I thought it would be nice and everything. The Gallerias can get pretty stiff if you come alone. Plus, there’s chocolate fountains.”
He appeared nettled, like he’d woken up and spilled coffee on his favourite shirt. You couldn’t place the exact emotion, nor could you identify the reason behind Jeonghan acting as though there were one-hundred choice words waiting to zap off the tip of his tongue. For an instant, you wondered if it would be worthwhile to question him, though there was a shout of the boy’s name and you spotted his parents beckoning him over from across the exhibition. Jeonghan merely rolled his eyes, disappearing just as quickly as he’d arrived to accompany them.
You folded your arms concerningly. “Do you know if something’s wrong? I haven’t seen him like that before.”
Joshua dropped the rest of the strawberry into his mouth. “He’s probably stressing over something. I wouldn’t worry too much. He’s not really one to blow up or get all in your face. I’ll talk to him later.”
Seeing as there were others who wanted to examine the camisole mannequin, you and Joshua seated yourselves at a tiny table right beside the chocolate fountain and catering foods. Though, you were unable to quell the curiosity at what Jeonghan was needed for, prompting your eyes to wander as unnaturally as possible in his direction. He’d just pulled a young woman into a hug, and she was positively gorgeous, dressed in a silk-fabric dress, form fitting and ruby red, with an elegant slit parting up to her right thigh. Her ponytail was slicked shiny as though her hair had been styled professionally, and she flaunted a dreamy smile that reminded you of a vintage female heroine.
And then, like a slap to the face, you realized she must be the woman whom Jeonghan’s parents seemed to be obsessed over.
Baejin, his ex-girlfriend.
She mentioned something into his ear, and they became giggly, the two pulling in again for another short hug. Jeonghan’s father gestured back to the pink slip mannequin, and the four walked over to discuss it for the umpteenth time. You wondered if she was going to be modeling some of the clothing. The assumption felt correct as Baejin touched the dress’ delicate fabric and the beaded, glimmering string tied around the tiny waist. Quickly, Jeonghan fetched the girl a champagne glass, the two drinking together while the father appeared to be entering another in-depth explanation. And, perhaps dignifiedly so, you were feeling mislead and upset. You speculated if this could be the reason for him to keep the Opal Galleria a secret – Jeonghan didn’t want you to catch even a glimpse of him reuniting with Baejin.
They hardly portrayed two ex’s who were now settled on different chapters to their lives. The longer you stared, the angrier, yet, more confused you felt. As you thought before, the odd relationship between you and Jeonghan was not set in stone, and it certainly didn’t ignite with the intention of actual love taking a blossom to your doorstep. It could be that you were jumping to conclusions, misreading things, or disillusioned by your tendency to wishfully think. Nonetheless, the sight still hurt.
Joshua bumped your elbow.
“Are you hungry at all? The scent from the catering tables is getting to me. I can grab a plate for you, if you want.”
With a sigh and a fragile smile, you shook your head. “No, I’ll come with you. Besides, you don’t know what I like anyways.”
“Fair enough.” Joshua agreed.
He stuck out his hand for you to take while rising from the chair.
Grabbing a small plate, you started at the end of the catering table and began making your way down, using the plastic tongs to serve yourself some spring rolls. Joshua filed after you, instead taking a bowl and scooping up some of the fresh zucchini pasta. Admittedly, you had lost your appetite after watching Jeonghan act so cordially with Baejin, though you were determined to not let the plight sour the otherwise enjoyable night you were having with Joshua. Once you reached the chocolate fountain, you swore a sparkle jumped into his eye.
“Why are you so obsessed with the fountain?” You had tried not to laugh as you asked the question.
The blonde boy looked aghast. “Because, it’s beautiful!” He picked up a strawberry arranged neatly around the base, dipping the edge briefly beneath the chocolate. “I mean, how can they make it so delicious and velvety? When I came to my first Galleria, I spent like, half my night just standing by the fountain, eating the fruit.”
You couldn’t help but think Joshua was adorable, and you grinned at him, “well, maybe I don’t have as much of a sweet tooth.”
“Just shush up and try this.”
He held out the strawberry, inviting you for a taste. At first, you paused, wondering if there was some flirtatious intention behind the gesture or if Joshua was just being his overtly kind self. And then, you held onto his wrist and took a bite from the strawberry, the warmth of the melted chocolate satin-smooth against your tongue.
Wiping the edge of your mouth, you nodded. “It is pretty tasty, actually. Let me try dipping it. You make it look weirdly fun.”
After setting down the catering plate, you took Joshua’s strawberry while he picked up a new one. Together, you pushed your fruits beneath the streaming chocolate, twisting it at the green leaf to fully coat the sides. So it wouldn’t drip, you immediately took a huge bite with a hand placed just below your mouth, humming contentedly.
“Okay,” you mumbled, still chewing, “I can see why you like this so much. I think I could get addicted to chocolate strawberry dipping.”
“Me too,” Joshua chuckled, “oh! Look, there’s whipped cream here and I didn’t even see it!” He set down his plate beside yours and grabbed the bottle like an eager little child. Popping off the cap, Joshua shook the can and pressed his fingertip against the nozzle, spraying a white-frosted peak onto the top of another strawberry. You copied him, though you had accidently sprayed too much. Once you licked the cream off your finger, you poked the entire fruit into your mouth like a funfetti-sized cupcake. For some reason, Joshua started giggling at you.
“What?” You glared at him playfully. “What’s wrong?”
Rosy tinges flushed to the arch of Joshua’s cheeks. “Uhm… Well, l-let me just—” he stuttered, cupping his hand gently to your face, his thumb brushing at a spot right below your bottom lip. “You had some whipped cream on your… chin slash lip. Sorry about that.”
“O-Oh, it’s okay.” You were stumbling yourself, tongue darting out instinctively to ensure there wasn’t anything still there.
At random, you felt this prickle tiptoe up the back of your neck, a sensation that was hardly perceptible yet singeing enough for you to notice it. Gulping, you peered toward that faceless mannequin draped in its pink slip dress, toward Jeonghan, Baejin, and his parents who were enthralled in a conversation with her. Jeonghan was glaring so blatantly at Joshua that you’d forgotten how to speak, and you couldn’t even pronounce a single word of warning as the boy started storming his way across the ballroom.
His grip was on your elbow like a viper’s teeth.
“Geez, where’d you come from?” Joshua said, though he was  able to note the tension this time, and Jeonghan’s surly behaviour.
“I need to talk to you,” Jeonghan murmured by your ear, ignoring Joshua yet again, “in the hall just outside the exhibition.”
You didn’t want to agree. Strangely enough, you felt this urge balloon inside you, an urge to cause a gigantic scene with screaming and thick tears and unnecessary curses, because as much as you wanted to dismiss your anger, there were jealous, wronged feelings inside, on fire and itching to escape from your gut. Miraculously, you held your composure, and announced to Joshua that you’d talk to him later.
Jeonghan then tore you into the empty hallway.
Tumblr media
It was like a lightning bolt, how quickly he exploded.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Jeonghan ranted, pacing back and forth as the distant echo of music bled through the wall. “Seriously, I don’t text you back for like, three days, and you’re already going on a date with my best friend—” he softened his voice in a purposefully mocking way, “letting him get all delicate with you, feeding you all lovey-dovey style and wiping that cream off your lip. Did you think I wouldn’t see it?”
“Excuse me?” Your brow instantly creased like a folded map, and you felt an intense ache hit the front of your skull. “Um, you’re one to talk! How come you didn’t tell me about the Galleria? Because you didn’t want me to see you with your arm around your ex’s waist? Because you don’t think I’m good enough to show off to your parents?”
Jeonghan gawked at you. “Baejin? For real? You think I’ve been secretly dating her behind your back or something?”
“How am I supposed to know?” You barked, tucking your arms defensively across the chest. And, while it might have been too early into the argument to pit such a statement, you had already started bubbling, and you knew there was nothing to snuff your fire. “Besides, you hardly ever get back to me apart from when you want to fuck!”
At that, the boy was momentarily stumped. What sounded like a rebuttal fizzled at the back of his throat, though it faded away. The silence worried you, because it echoed a confirmation that Jeonghan might’ve actually never seen as you as anything more than an outlet to alleviate his carnality. That, once the Love Café ordeal was finally over with, he could forget you had ever existed like erasing a mistake of smudged lead. The thought made you glassy-eyed and thus, terribly vulnerable. However, you also craved the truth to your relationship.
“Just admit it,” you beseeched him, “admit that you want me only for sex and nothing else. Is that why you didn’t bring up the Galleria? Because you think it’s easier to shove me in the dark when it’s convenient for you? Is that why you were acting so mad?”
He skimmed a hand exasperatedly through his hair. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m not dating Baejin behind your back, I have never once thought you weren’t good enough to show off to my parents, and I didn’t purposefully hide the Galleria from you.”
“Right,” you scoffed, “but you’re fine with labelling me as a friend and pretending like we don’t hook up every week.”
“It’s…” he clenched his teeth and growled in frustration, “it’s complicated, alright? Can’t you just accept that?”
“Complicated?” A shudder coursed down your spine at having to repeat the boy, and the tears sprung from your eyes with such a sharp sting that it became impossible to hold them back. You felt each drop, cold and runny, drip along your face. “That’s the word you’re going to use? You’re going to look straight at me, after the entire span of our relationship since the Love Café, and tell me we’re summed up best as complicated?” Again, the word struck you like a stiff punch. If he was going to regard your connection so trivially, then you didn’t care whether or not he knew the verity of your heart. Like it would affect him anyways.
“I would’ve said we were in love,” you shrugged, watching his expression drop in a mere instant, “but—sure, let’s call it complicated.”
And, with the tears shining like salt stars on your face, you stalked out the building into the softening winter weather.
Tumblr media
You didn’t know it could be so difficult to ignore someone, especially when you were supposed to hate them. The effect Jeonghan had on you was almost phantom-like; a constant lingering, even if the boy himself wasn’t palpable and poised right before your eyes.
It had been three days since the outburst at the Galleria. That night, you cried, and wept, and broke out the amber bottle stored beneath your sink which was only sipped from in occasions of complete misery – very well suited to the situation at hand. You had questioned calling the Love Café’s customer service desk to issue a termination of your card, and, at one point, you were standing drunkenly by the toilet contemplating your decision to rip up the red paper and flush it. Though, nothing ever came of either idea. Instead, you faceplanted onto your bed and allowed the intoxicated dizziness to fade black. The next morning, you were faced with multiple texts from Jeonghan, missed phone calls, voice notes. But you didn’t listen or respond to anything.
Complicated. That was the word you kept hearing.
Absolutely not, you had thought that morning, you weren’t ready to speak with him, even if the temptation seemed like it could be promising. The air was still too bitter. And you couldn’t handle another argument.
On the second day after the outburst, you were seated at the receptionist desk in the salon, flicking through a magazine while you became increasingly mindless to the humming of the blow dryer and the potent fragrance of the hair products. When you glanced out the window, you nearly combusted, as both Joshua and Jeonghan were about to enter the salon together, hurrying in from the melted snow and winter’s final downpour. You hid in the breakroom until they left, forcing your co-worker to take your position at the desk. Joshua was apparently getting his hair trimmed while Jeonghan had asked about you at the reception.
“He’s gorgeous!” Your co-worker had immediately gushed to you in the breakroom. “Why are you avoiding someone like that?”
“It’s complicated.” You’d phrased it simply.
Dang it. You hated the fact you’d used that stupid word.
But, on the third day, most of your bitterness was gone.
After breakfast, you were back at the vanity mirror to prepare for work, and while you buffed some makeup to sit seamlessly on the skin with your puffy foundation brush, there was a knock at your door. This time, you didn’t bother peeping through the fisheye lens, because you knew exactly who it was – damn his persistence. Jeonghan’s brown hair had been slightly mused in the wind, and there was a glow as soft as a peach to each his cheeks. But that easygoing, relaxed smile was by far the most heart fluttering. He extended a coffee cup to you. When you reached out, Jeonghan suddenly pulled the coffee away with a tsking sound.
“You can have it only if—” he held up his finger, “you agree to let me in so I can explain myself. Yes, I’m bribing you. And yes, I’m an asshole from time to time. But five minutes at least. That’s all I need.”
For a moment, you wavered, only to mutter a resounding, “fine.”
Despite Jeonghan’s company, you still had work to get ready for, so the boy followed you into the bedroom. He took a seat on the edge of your mattress while you settled back into the vanity chair. Picking through your jar of makeup brushes, you plucked a round, oval-tipped one to apply your eyeshadow. Jeonghan was silent at first, watching you through the mirror as you hurried about the look. It wasn’t perfect, in fact it was a bit sloppy and rushed and there was already some fallout  sitting like a glittered dust on your cheeks, though Jeonghan was staring at you with such fondness, you wondered if the mirror was reflecting the same image. Of course, the Love Card was sitting on your desk too.
“Well,”  you spun around in the chair, pressing your lips together, “I’m waiting for you to explain, y’know. Like you said you would. Technically, you’ve lost a couple minutes, and I should really try to be at the salon early, but I’m still going to give you full time since—"
“I love you.”
“… What?”
“I love you,” Jeonghan repeated himself casually, a slow smile spilling from each corner of his mouth, “I’m in love with you, as deep as I could be, I think. Anyways, you want me to keep saying it? I love you.”
It felt like someone had taken a picture with the blinding glare of its flash, a picture you couldn’t be more unprepared for, the dots still dancing and fumbling across your vision. The moment was disorienting, but you experienced a very fulgurant warmth take shape inside you. It was comforting yet daunting, a sugar rush and a hangover, something so alive you knew you wanted it more than anything else in the world.
Yet, “you… are in love with me?” was all that you could express.
Jeonghan fiddled with the coffee cup in his hands. “You’re a funny girl, you know that? But I can say it a fifth time if you want.”
“N-No, I—I just, I wasn’t expecting—”
“Yeah, I can see that, “ he’d laughed, though it quickly fell into a sigh and suddenly Jeonghan’s temperament had shifted. “Look, I know that night wasn’t pretty. I know I ghosted you. I know I didn’t tell you about the stupid Galleria,” the boy glanced up, catching your eye, “but… I didn’t say anything because I was confused. I knew your Love Card only had one signature left, and just like that… you could be in my bed for the last time. If we’re really gonna get sentimental about it,”
Jeonghan chuckled, scratching his chin a bit shyly, “it could be my last time holding you, and kissing you… I just, I didn’t want it to be like that. But I didn’t know how to confront you about it, so I hid. And I stressed myself out, and I got so stupidly jealous and angry when I saw you with Joshua. That was my bad. I should’ve been upfront.”
Tucking your hands together anxiously in your lap, you nodded, beginning to understand the missing pieces.
“Thank you for saying that.” You murmured, tapping your feet in a nervous rhythm against the floor. “I… I was being unreasonable and jealous too,” you subsequently admitted, “I was assuming things about you and Baejin when I shouldn’t have. I don’t know what I was expecting anyways, that you act like she doesn’t exist? It was dumb, and I was adding pressure. I’m sorry too.” Wanting to lighten the tone, you smiled at him, “I guess we both have our flaws, huh?”
He returned the tender glance and held out the coffee cup.
“I guess we do.”
You grabbed it politely.
Turning around in the chair, you grabbed the bright red Love Card off the vanity, initialed until its last circle, “what should we do with this? I mean, we kind of messed up their rules, fooling around more than twelve times. And, well, I’m not gonna renew it.”
“Oh, let me see.” Jeonghan said.
As soon as you passed the card to him, he ripped it clean in half, crumpled each piece, balled them together in his hands and tossed the shreds into the trash can sat in the corner.
“Well, that was fucking easy,” he smiled, getting up from the mattress, “aren’t you late for work? Do you need a drive?”
You looked at your alarm clock.
“If you can get me there in the next ten minutes, that’d be great.”
Jeonghan headed to the front door while you hurriedly grabbed your coat from the closet and snatched your bag off the floor, resting the strap over your shoulder. With the coffee still in hand, you headed into the living area, looking around in one final swoop to make sure you had everything packed for the day. A sheet of sunlight spilt into the room from outside the window, pale, like the morning sky, yet filling every crevice of the cheap apartment with a dull shine. And for a very fleeting moment, you thought this place wasn’t so abhorrent. It had been your home, your stepping stone, a thumbprint which identified a period of hardship and growth. But, despite this bittersweet taste on your tongue, you couldn’t envision yourself staying.
“Come on,” Jeonghan pinched your hip, “at this rate I’ll get a speeding ticket trying to get you to work on time.”
Turning around, you stuck a kiss to the boy’s cheek, just catching the cool beginning of a smirk on that dazzling face of his as you interlaced your fingers and pulled him into the corridor.
No, you could not stay here.
Not when your future was with Jeonghan.
Tumblr media
✧✎ a/n: yeah, so this was clearly A LOT longer than the original love café teehee. i remembered the plot vaguely therefore i refused to reread my first version weufhewif PLS IT MAKES ME CONVULSE SO BAD !! i just had to rewrite the plot and do it some actual justice! i hope this version is a lot better and that you rly enjoyed it! i wish yjh would give me money but i guess we can’t all live in a fantasy world!! thx for reading!!
4K notes · View notes
pumpkinpaix · 4 years
Note
hello there, hope you're having a nice day <3
so i've been reading a lot of fics lately, uk for sanity's sake, and i've noticed that in most of them, lwj doesn't use contractions (eg., says do not instead of don't)?? and i think he doesn't in the novel either but i don't remember lol so i can't be sure but anyway that made me curious - does chinese have contractions as well? does he not use it bc it's informal?
hello there! I’m doing all right, i started to answer this ask while waiting for a jingyeast loaf to come out of the oven 😊 many thanks to @bookofstars for helping me look over/edit/correct this post!! :D
anyways! the answer to your questions are complicated (of course it is when is anything simple with me), so let’s see if I can break it down--you’re asking a) whether chinese has contractions, b) if it does, how does they change the tone of the sentence--is it similar to english or no?, and c) how does this all end up with lan wangji pretty much never using contractions in english fic/translation?
I’m gonna start by talking about how formality is (generally) expressed in each language, and hopefully, by the end of this post, all the questions will have been answered in one way or another. so: chinese and english express variations in formality/register differently, oftentimes in ways that run contrary to one another. I am, as always, neither a linguist nor an expert in chinese and english uhhh sociological grammar? for lack of a better word. I’m speaking from my own experience and knowledge :D
so with a character like lan wangji, it makes perfect sense in english to write his dialogue without contractions, as contractions are considered informal or colloquial. I don’t know if this has changed in recent years, but I was always taught in school to never use contractions in my academic papers.
However! not using contractions necessarily extends the length of the sentence: “do not” takes longer to say than “don’t”, “cannot” is longer than “can’t” etc. in english, formality is often correlated with sentence length: the longest way you can say something ends up sounding the most formal. for a very simplified example, take this progression from least formal to absurdly formal:
whatcha doin’?
what’re you doing?
what are you doing? [standard colloquial]
may I ask what you are doing?
might I inquire as to what you are doing?
excuse me, but might I inquire as to what you are doing?
pardon my intrusion, but might I inquire as to what you are doing?
please pardon my intrusion, but might inquire as to the nature of your current actions?
this is obviously a somewhat overwrought example, but you get the point. oftentimes, the longer, more complex, more indirect sentence constructions indicate a greater formality, often because there is a simultaneous decreasing of certainty. downplaying the speaker’s certainty can show deference (or weakness) in english, while certainty tends to show authority/confidence (or aggression/rudeness).
different words also carry different implications of formality—in the example, I switched “excuse me” to “pardon me” during one of the step ups. pardon (to me at least) feels like a more formal word than “excuse”. Similarly, “inquire” is more formal than “ask” etc. I suspect that at least some of what makes one word seem more formal than one of its synonyms has to do with etymology. many of english’s most formal/academic words come from latin (which also tends to have longer words generally!), while our personal/colloquial words tend to have germanic origins (inquire [latin] vs ask [germanic]).
you’ll also notice that changing a more direct sentence structure (“may I ask what”) to a more indirect one (“might I inquire as to”) also jumps a register. a lot of english is like this — you can complicate simple direct sentences by switching the way you use the verbs/how many auxiliaries you use etc.
THE POINT IS: with regards to english, more formal sentence structures are often (not always) longer and more indirect than informal ones. this leads us to a problem with a character like lan wangji.
lan wangji is canonically very taciturn. if he can express his meaning in two words rather than three, then he will. and chinese allows for this—in extreme ways. if you haven’t already read @hunxi-guilai’s post on linguistic register (in CQL only, but it’s applicable across the board), I would start there because haha! I certainly do Not have a degree in Classical Chinese lit and she does a great job. :D
you can see from the examples that hunxi chose that often, longer sentences tend to be more informal in chinese (not always, which I’ll circle back to at the end lol). Colloquial chinese makes use of helping particles to indicate tone and meaning, as is shown in wei wuxian’s dialogue. and, as hunxi explained, those particles are largely absent from lan wangji’s speech pattern. chinese isn’t built of “words” in the way English is—each character is less a word and more a morpheme—and the language allows for a lot of information to be encoded in one character. a single character can often stand for a phrase within a sentence without sacrificing either meaning or formality. lan wangji makes ample use of this in order to express himself in the fewest syllables possible.
so this obviously leads to an incongruity when trying to translate his dialogue or capture his voice in English: shorter sentences are usually more direct by nature, and directness/certainty is often construed as rudeness -- but it might seem strange to see lan wangji’s dialogue full of longer sentences while the narration explicitly says that he uses very short sentences. so what happens is that many english fic writers extrapolated this into creating an english speech pattern for lan wangji that reads oddly. they’ll have lan wangji speak in grammatically incoherent fragments that distill his intended thought because they’re trying to recreate his succinctness. unfortunately, English doesn’t have as much freedom as Chinese does in this way, and it results in lan wangji sounding as if he has some kind of linguistic impediment and/or as if he’s being unspeakably rude in certain situations. In reality, lan wangji’s speech is perfectly polite for a young member of the gentry (though he’s still terribly rude in other ways lol). he speaks in full, and honestly, quite eloquent sentences.
hunxi’s post already has a lot of examples, but I figure I’ll do one as well focused on the specifics of this post.
I’m going to use this exchange from chapter 63 between the twin jades because I think it’s a pretty simple way to illustrate what I’m talking about:
蓝曦臣道:“你亲眼所见?”
蓝忘机道:“他亲眼所见。”
蓝曦臣道:“你相信他?”
蓝忘机道:“信。”
[...] 蓝曦臣道:“那么金光瑶呢?”
蓝忘机道:“不可信。”
my translation:
Lan Xichen said, “You saw it with your own eyes?”
Lan Wangji said, “He saw it with his own eyes.”
Lan Xichen said, “You believe him?”
Lan Wangji said, “I believe him.”
[...] Lan Xichen said, “Then what about Jin Guangyao?”
Lan Wangji said, “He cannot be believed.”
you can see how much longer the (pretty literal) english translations are! every single line of dialogue is expanded because things that can be omitted in chinese cannot be omitted in english without losing grammatical coherency. i‘ll break a few of them down:
Lan Xichen’s first line:
你 (you) 亲眼 (with one’s own eyes) 所 (literary auxiliary) 见 (met/saw)?
idk but i love this line a lot lmao. it just has such an elegant feel to me, probably because I am an uncultured rube. anyways, you see here that he expressed his full thought in five characters.
if I were to rewrite this sentence into something much less formal/much more modern, I might have it become something like this:
你是自己看见的吗?
你 (you) 是 (to be) 自己 (oneself) 看见 (see) 的 (auxiliary) 吗 (interrogative particle)?
i suspect that this construction might even be somewhat childish? I’ve replaced every single formal part of the sentence with a more colloquial one. instead of 亲眼 i’ve used 自己, instead of 所见 i’ve used 看见的 and then also added an interrogative particle at the end for good measure (吗). To translate this, I would probably go with “Did you see it yourself?”
contained in this is also an example of how one character can represent a whole concept that can also be represented with two characters: 见 vs 看见. in this example, both mean “to see”. we’ll see it again in the next example as well:
in response to lan xichen’s, “you believe him?” --> 你 (you) 相信 (believe) 他 (him)? lan wangji answers with, “信” (believe).
chinese does not do yes or no questions in the same way that english does. there is no catch-all for yes or no, though there are general affirmative (是/有) and negative (不/没) characters. there are other affirmative/negative characters, but these are the ones that I believe are the most common and also the ones that you may see in response to yes or no questions on their own. (don’t quote me on that lol)
regardless, the way you respond to a yes or no question is often by repeating the verb phrase either in affirmative or negative. so here, when lan xichen asks if lan wangji believes wei wuxian, lan wangji responds “believe”. once again, you can see that one character can stand in for a concept that may also be expressed in two characters: 信 takes the place of 相信. lan wangji could have responded with “相信” just as well, but, true to his character, he didn’t because he didn’t need to. this is still a complete sentence. lan wangji has discarded the subject (I), the object (him), and also half the verb (相), and lost no meaning whatsoever. you can’t do this in english!
and onto the last exchange:
lan xichen: 那么 (then) 金光瑶 (jin guangyao) 呢 (what about)?
lan wangji: 不可 (cannot) 信 (believe)
you can actually see the contrast between the two brothers’ speech patterns even in this. lan xichen’s question is not quite as pared down as it could be. if it were wangji’s line instead, I would expect it to read simply “金光瑶呢?” which would just be “what about jin guangyao?” 那么 isn’t necessary to convey the core thought -- it’s just as how “then what about” is different than “what about”, but “then” is not necessary to the central question. if we wanted to keep the “then” aspect, you could still cut out 么 and it would be the same meaning as well.
a FINAL example of how something can be cut down just because I think examples are helpful:
“I don’t know” is usually given as 我不知道. (this is what nie huaisang says lol) It contains subject (我) and full verb (知道). you can pare this straight down to just 不知 and it would mean the same thing in the correct context. i think most of the characters do this at least once? it sounds more literary -- i don’t know that i would ever use it in everyday speech, but the fact remains that it’s a possibility. both could be translated as “I do not know” and it would be accurate.
ANYWAYS, getting all the way back to one of your original questions: does chinese have contractions? and the answer is like... kind of...?? but not really. there’s certainly slang/dialect variants that can be used in ways that are reminiscent of english contractions. the example I’m thinking of is the character 啥 (sha2) which can be used as slang in place of 什么 (shen2 me). (which means “what”)
so for a standard sentence of, 你在做什么? (what are you doing), you could shorten down to just 做啥? and the second construction is less formal than the first, but they mean the same thing.
other slang i can think of off the top of my head: 干嘛 (gan4 ma2) is also informal slang for “what are you doing”. and i think this is a regional thing, but you can also use 搞 (gao3) and 整 (zheng3) to mean “do” as well.
so in the same way that you can replace 什么 with 啥, you can replace 做 as well to get constructions like 搞啥 (gao3 sha2) and 整啥 (zheng3 sha2).
these are all different ways to say “what are you doing” lmao, and in this case, shorter is not, in fact, more formal.
woo! we made it to the end! I hope it was informative and helpful to you anon. :D
this is where I would normally throw my ko-fi, but instead, I’m actually going to link you to this fundraising post for an old fandom friend of mine. her house burned down mid-september and they could still use help if anyone can spare it! if this post would have moved you to buy me a ko-fi, please send that money to her family instead. :) rbs are also appreciated on the post itself. (* ´▽` *)
anyways, here’s the loaf jingyeast made :3 it was very tasty.
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
Text
New World Order - TFATWS Rewrite Chapter One (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
[Marvel-Masterlist], [TFATWS Rewrite-Masterlist]
Next Chapter
Summary: You were an Avenger. That was how the world viewed you. Nobody else knew about your past & it was for the better. After all, you had Sam. You had Bucky. That had to be enough. At least for now.
Words: 6,214
Warnings: language, sarcasm, expect some sort of slow burn, there are hints already, this is a Bucky fic, which means that it'll focus on his scenes more, spoilers for TFATWS, (Y/E/C) = your eye color
If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤
You were no superhero. At least, you would never say you were one. Your past was filled with actions you regretted. None of it was your fault. It was not your decision to be the child of the leader of a HYDRA base. It was not your decision to grow up like a warrior. Fighting. Killing.
Your father was the bad guy. You knew that now. As a child, you did not see through his facade. How could you? He was your dad. Someone who was supposed to love you endlessly. Those years had shaped you. Into the person you were today.
Deep down, you wished there was a way to make you forget. Forget about your past. Forget about the pain. Forget about it all. Hell, you were a laboratory experiment. Those powers did not come from nowhere. No. They came from tons of needles, pumping a toxic serum into you veins. You should not even be alive anymore. Not by what now flowed through your body. Apparently, it was for your own good. That was how your dad put it. Absolute bullshit. Growing up isolated from the world, being trained to fight, to kill, daily. Your own good my ass. If it did one thing, then it ruined your damn life.
But at least you had powers, right? Blue flames you could control. Those blue flames that were hotter than anything else in this world. It took an awful lot of time to fully have control. Truthfully, you hated that part of you with every fiber of your being. It had been the cause of one too many deaths. You had been the cause. But weakness was not in your nature. If you did not show strength you would be a disappointment. Something you really did not want to be.
Bucky was the reason you got out of this life. He was the one to rescue you out of this hell hole. He was the one to show you an entirely different part of this world. And for that, you could never thank him enough. If it were not for Bucky, you would have gone insane ages ago. Who knew if you were still here today?
The Avengers were aware of your past. Of you being a part of HYDRA back in the days. Yet, you had never elaborated this any further. If there was one thing you were good at, it was keeping things to yourself. No need to burden others with your struggles. And you did struggle. Every single day. Because your mind was filled with memories. Memories you had tried to burn. Memories you wanted to erase. Memories of you being the bad guy. Just like your dad had been.
Your life changed when you were introduced to the Avengers. They did not trust you. Not right away. But during the fight with Thanos, the one after the Blip, you proved yourself to be worthy of their trust. Especially Steve. He had been there for you. When everyone else failed to believe in you. He was gone now. And it hurt like hell. Giving up was never an option. And the universe did not plan on giving you a break anytime soon. For now, you had to bury your feelings as deep as possible. Your focus should solely be on the new threats of this world. Threats, that seemed to increase daily.
Tumblr media
“Bucky is an asshole.” you were on the phone with Sam & the fact that the super soldier had been ignoring him for a while did not leave a good feeling inside his chest.
“What a revelation.” sarcastic comments were part of your life. It was your way of coping with everything. Frankly, it worked. More or less. “Give him some time.”
“More time? No.” sighing loudly. “I have other things to focus on.” he was referring to the mission he was about to perform.
“You sure you’ll be fine on your own?” it was not like you did not believe in his abilities. Just, life had not been the same ever since billions of people came back.
“When have I ever not been?” you could think of a few times but Sam ended the call before you even had the chance to answer. Typical.
Luckily, Sam usually told you about his missions. And you were proud of him. You really were. The situation you found yourself in? With Bucky & him? Well, it was everything but good. Bucky called you. You called Sam. Sam called you. You called Bucky. A circle you kept alive. And it sucked to be their only way of communication. For now, though, both of them were too stubborn to change anything about it.
“Enjoying the Tunisian sun I hope?” whenever Sam went on a mission, you had him call you after it. Simply because he knew you worried.
“You know it.” in the far background you could hear him working on something.
“Is everyone alright? That trainee of yours? What’s his name again?”
“Torres.” he sighed, frustrated by your question. You had asked him about a million times & apparently, you still had no clue. Truth was, you just liked messing with him. “Redwing is hurt.”
“Naaaw, poor baby.” giggling slightly. That man cared more for a piece of tech than he should.
“Shut up.” okay, better not mess with Wilson if it came to Redwing. Got it.
“When are you coming back?” your voice turned serious again. Having him gone for so long did not stick right with you. Obviously, you knew he was doing it for the greater good. But still. “I swear to all the Gods, if you say when we’re done here…” mumbling quietly but loud enough for him to hear.
“When we’re finished here.” a chuckle could be heard from his side. By the way it sounded, you assumed Torres was laughing as well. Rolling your eyes at his antics. He could be such a child sometimes.
“Oh, fuck off, Wilson.”
“Hey, language!” Sam had fun. Yeah, you were the one cracking jokes all of the time but he could deliver, too.
“Okay, you know what? Bye. Text me when you’re back.” now, it was you who did not give him enough time to respond. After all, he would have clapped back with another snarky remark & you were not in the mood for it. At all.
Tumblr media
“Steve represented the best in all of us. Courageous, righteous, hopeful. And he mastered posing stoically.” everyone chuckled at Sam’s description. Of him. Steve. Rhodey was standing right next to you. In that suit of his. The one that made him look way more approachable than you. No need for people to approach you. They did not know who you were before. And they sure as hell did not need to. It would turn things complicated. Humans did not like complicated. You did not like it. “The world has been forever changed. A few months ago, billions of people reappeared after five years away, sending the world into turmoil. We need new heroes. Ones suited for the times we’re in. Symbols are nothing without the women & men that give them meaning. And this thing…” he paused briefly, let out a short chuckle. The shield. “I don’t know if there’s ever been a greater symbol. But it’s more about the man who propped it up, & he’s gone. So, today we honor Steve’s legacy. But also, we look to the future. So, thank you, Captain America. But this belongs to you.” the crowd erupted into cheers. Applause was filling the room & you felt out of place. What was he doing? When Sam asked you to join him here today, he left out the fact that he wanted to give away the shield. The shield Steve had trusted him enough to own. And the people surrounding you? They…celebrated him for it? This entire speech was proof enough that Wilson was worthy of this job. So why the hell did he make that decision? Watching the shield being put into the showcase, you could hardly hold in the tears that formed at the corners of your (Y/E/C) eyes. Rhodey nudged you, sensing that something was wrong. Head hanging low, you ignored him, walking out of the room as fast as possible. If you stayed here any longer, Sam would have bruises for sure. Bruises caused by you. You would not risk that. Though, he kind of deserved it.
“Where’s (Y/N)?” Sam asked Rhodey when he finished with the press. You had told him you would wait here for him. There was no sign of you.
“Left a while ago.”
“What do you mean “Left a while ago.”? Did she say where she was heading?” why did you decide to leave? Had anything happened while he held his speech? All Rhodey could do was shrug. An explanation was not given by you. And he knew better than to ask.
“Take a walk?” Rhodey suggested, completely unaware to your weird behavior. The two of you were not that close. So he did not know you like Sam did. You were an adult, after all. If you wanted to go somewhere without asking someone first, then you were allowed to do that.
Disappointment was flooding through your body. Friends told each other stuff like that, right? So why did he keep it a secret that he planned on giving away the shield. With that action, he broke Steve’s trust & you were livid. If only Steve were here right now. You missed him. So much. Next time Sam met you, you could not promise anything. Because anger was all you felt. Anger & disappointment. Grief. But that one you could keep to yourself. At least for the time being. Shit. Bucky. One hundred percent did he watch Sam giving away the shield. Oh, he would be filled with hatred. Compared to that, you were only a small threat. Bucky was the one Wilson should keep an eye on. Well, he had been trying to get a hold of him. So far, without luck.
Tumblr media
A gunshot blasting woke Bucky up from another night invaded by nightmares. His changed hair did not put his demons at bay. His look was different but there were some things he could never get rid of. His past. The past he dreaded as much as you did. Probably what you two had in common. Being part of HYDRA & all. His breathing was irregular & there was no way in hell he could go back to sleep. It was in the middle of the night & he hated himself for relying on someone else. But he would go insane if he did not call another person right now. If he did not call you. The only one who seemed to understand what he was going through. The only one who never judged him because of his nightmares. The only one who made him feel like he was a good person. Not the killer he once had been. When HYDRA controlled him. Back, when he was called “The Winter Soldier”. Would he ever move on from that? Grabbing his old phone, he did not overthink too long & dialed your number. One, he knew by heart. Because he had called you so many times. It stuck in his head.
“Buck? Is everything alright?” concern was present in your voice. Usually, when you got a call in the middle of the night, it was him. And you were fine with it. If he trusted you enough to help him with his demons, than you were more than happy to come to his aid. No matter the time.
“I-I…it’s just, ugh, I-“ still shaken up from his nightmare, you did not need him to finish his sentence. You had been in this exact situation so many times. You knew what he needed. Your presence. Your voice. Your comfort. You.
“I’ll be there in a few.” assuring him, you were already grabbing the stuff you needed & walked out of your apartment. Only one destination in mind. Him. “Do you need me to stay on the phone?” it was a simple question. A stupid one, too. Usually, he would not say a word until you were with him. But it felt right to ask him what he wanted you to do. Needed you to do. When he did not answer for a few moments, you guessed he only nodded, not realizing that you could not see his motions. Yet, he did not hang up. Neither did you. Your breathing was enough for him. At least until you were in his apartment.
Knocking softly, as to not wake his neighbors, the door opened almost immediately after. Squeaking ever so slightly. Taking in his appearance, you could tell that it had been a bad nightmare. No, not a nightmare. A memory. You knew that because it was the reason you woke up most nights as well. If it were not for him feeling miserable, you would have drooled by the sight of him. No shirt. Hair sticking around so beautifully. Eyes you could lose yourself in. But it was not the right timing. Besides, Bucky & you were just friends. That was it. Just friends. Though, you would lie if you said that you did not feel butterflies whenever he shot you one of his charming smiles. Whenever his body brushed against yours on accident. Yes, he did have that effect on you. Hell, that was not what he needed right now. Your feelings could be dealt with later on. Bucky was all who mattered now. There was no conversation. No words exchanged. It was enough for him if you were with him. A sign that he was not alone. That he still had you. Even after everything. Even after calling you, night after night, disturbing your own rest. Not that you got much to begin with but he did not need to know that. It had always been a mystery to him. Why you stuck around still. Though you had assured him thousands of times that you were in this for good. If he needed you, you were only one call away. And he appreciated you for it. More than he would ever like to admit. Friends. You were friends.
Tumblr media
“So, Mr. Barnes, are you still having nightmares?” another session with Dr. Raynor. Another dreaded session. It was stupid to Bucky. But there was no way out of this. He had to. Seconds of silence went by before she spoke up again. “James, I asked you a question. Are you still having nightmares?” what kind of question was that? A stupid one. That was for sure.
“No.” simple, short. Sufficient. Not for his doctor, though.
“We’ve been doing this long enough that I can tell when you’re lying. Well, you seem a little off today. Did something happen recently?”
“No.” what an answer to move this session forward. Clearly, he was not in the mood to talk today. Not even you were able to get his mind off of things. Though, you definitely made his night easier.
“You’re a civilian now. With your history, the government needs to know that you’re not gonna…” her hand motioned stabbing. Awful action but who were you to judge? Bucky nodded with that look on his face that showed how completely done he was with this situation. Yet, she kept going. “It’s a condition of your pardon. So, tell me about your most recent nightmare.”
“I didn’t have a nightmare.” well, it was worth a try. After taking a deep breath, she grabbed the pencil, ready to start writing into that notebook of hers again. “Oh, come on. Really? You’re gonna do the notebook thing? Why? It’s passive aggressive.” looked like the two of them were going back to the roots.
“You don’t talk. I write.” Bucky sighed at that. He knew he would not get out of this.
“Okay. Okay. I crossed a name off the list of my amends yesterday. Don’t worry. I used all your three rules. Senator Atwood. She was a HYDRA pawn for years. Helped her get into office when I was the Winter Soldier. And after HYDRA disbanded, she continued to abuse the power I gave her.”
“So, rule number one, you can’t do anything illegal.”
“All I did was give some intel to the aide to convict her. And I wasn’t involved in anything else.”
“Rule number two?”
“What was rule number two?” his gaze drifting off, showing he thought about it deeply. How ironic.
“Nobody gets hurt. It’s a big one.”
“Then why isn’t it rule number one?” he did have a point there. No room left for arguing about that. “I didn’t hurt anybody. I promise.”
“And what about rule number three?” Bucky’s mouth opened, yet, nothing came out. “The whole point of making amends is to fulfil rule number three.”
“You know, you’re a cynic, Doc. Of course, I completed rule number three. I am James Bucky Barnes & you’re part of my efforts to make amends.” words followed by that smile of his. That smile everyone could tell was fake. Almost creepy. But efforts, right? It was all about the efforts.
“So, you did it all right, but it didn’t help with the nightmares.”
“Well, like I said, I didn’t have any.” Bucky Barnes, everyone. Still trying to fool his doctor.
“Look, one day, you’re gonna have to open up & understand that some people really do want to help you & that they can be trusted. People like (Y/N).” the mention of your name made his eyes snap up.
“I trust more people than her.” it sounded more like he tried to convince himself more than anyone else.
“Yeah? Give me your phone.” an order. Grabbing it out of his pocket to hand it over. A short look was enough. “You don’t have ten phone numbers on this thing. Oh, & you’ve been ignoring the texts from Sam. Look, you gotta nurture friendships. I am the only person you have called all week. That is so sad…Oh, that’s not right. You called (Y/N) last night. Anything you wanna tell me about that?” closing the flip phone, she threw it over to Bucky which he caught with ease.
“What? Do I need to justify calling a friend?” chuckling & shaking his head slightly, he brushed his hands over his thighs.
“If you call that friend at 3 am, then yes. Because you should sleep at that time. Except if you had a nightmare which you claimed that you didn’t.”
“We just talked. That’s all.” he thought that brushing it off as if it were nothing was enough to get her to shut up. Hell, he had brought you up during his sessions way too many times. After all, he still wanted the situation between you guys to be subtle.
“You’re alone.”
“A minute ago, you said I had (Y/N).” he tried arguing but his attempts failed.
“You’re a hundred years old. You have no history, no family…” right, pouring salt in the wounds. That usually worked.
“Are you lashing out at me, Doc? Because that’s really unprofessional, you know? When did that start? Yelling at your clients?” she seemed to have enough & again went for the little book next to her. “Oh, the notebook. That’s great.” sighing deeply, he braced himself to take her more seriously. “All right, give me a break. I’m trying, okay? This isn’t…This is new for me. I didn’t have a moment to deal with anything, you know? I had a little…calm in Wakanda. And other than that, I just went from one fight to another for 90 years.”
“So, now that you’ve stopped fighting, what do you want?” he had an answer in mind right away. Never ever would he say it out loud. It took him a second to reply. Because what he was about to say came in union with his first thought.
“Peace.”
“That is utter bullshit.” what a nice way to bad talk his answer. Maybe she was expecting something else from him. Maybe she knew the answer just as much as he did. The real answer.
“You’re a terrible shrink.”
“I was an excellent soldier, so I saw a lot of dead bodies, & I know how that can shut you down. And if you are alone…”
“Which I’m not because I have (Y/N).”
“…that is the quietest, most personal hell. And, James, it is very hard to escape. Look, I know that you have been through a lot, but you’ve got your mind back, you are being pardoned. I mean, these are good things. You’re free.”
“To do what?”
Tumblr media
Wednesday. Bucky usually went to Izzy. Today, he asked you to join him & Yori. Why he wanted you there with them? No clue. But it was not often he asked you to go somewhere with him so you agreed on meeting them there.
“Take a look.” Yori was a cute, old man. Reading his newspaper like a good citizen. Bucky had yet to give you an explanation as to why you were here right now. But for now, you just sat next to him, quietly observing your surroundings. “Nobody made it past 90 this week.” it was funny, to see Bucky trying his hardest to sound interested. Like he understood.
“So young. Such a shame.” his words made you scoff. Apparently, once you hit the 100 mark, you turn into a sarcastic piece. If you were not one before. If you ever made it to 100? Only the Gods knew what would come after that. Most people called you a sarcastic asshole now. Could that be topped?
“You guys didn’t order the usual, huh? Feeling a little adventurous?” the woman behind the counter directed her words at the three of you.
“Um, actually, I’ve never been here before, so…” you chuckled to avoid the awkwardness that would sure as hell build if you kept quiet now.
“You should ask her out.” Yori leaned over to Bucky & you almost choked on your food at his words. Bucky asking her out? Her? Yeah, she was beautiful & all. But her? Really? Seemed like that Yori dude did not know Bucky as well as he claimed to. You, on the other hand, were aware that nothing good would come out if it. Besides, they would not even make a nice couple. Shit, were you jealous? Oh no. Glancing over at the man next to you, his face showed just how much he despised this idea. At least something.
“Mm-mmm…” shaking his head frantically, he shot you a quick look but before his eyes locked onto yours, your gaze fell down to your plate. Slightly embarrassed. Scared that, if he looked at you, he would notice something behind your look. Something more. Something, that you wanted to keep hidden. For everyone’s sake.
“He would like to take you out on a date.” oh fuck off, Yori. You had nothing against this man but he was pushing your buttons. Could he not see that Bucky was incredibly uncomfortable with the idea of going on a date? With her? “Maybe to bingo or a night of pinochle.” hiding your laugh behind one of your hands, you could not believe that he was serious. Bucky & bingo? Well, it was for old people so you guessed it fit quite well. Not with her, though. Oh no, you really were jealous.
“I’m really sorry about him.” Bucky apologized for his friend’s behavior. Yes, you were sorry for him, too.
“Why are you sorry?” of course, now the woman was flirting with him. It got better & better. Taking a deep breath, you tried to keep your emotions at bay. You could not lash out in the middle of this restaurant, after all. Even though you were this close to doing just that. Deep breaths, you got this. “I’m game.” sure she was.
“Wow.” really? Bucky was impressed? By this? Oh come on, why would he settle for less when he could have so, so much more. But it was not your decision. He was not yours. You did not own him. Neither did you make the decisions for him.
“Tomorrow night, then?” Yori leaned over the counter.
“Tomorrow night’s great.” she replied with a bright smile.
“Hey, I just remembered something.” you spoke up all of a sudden. Bucky’s eyes met yours now & he saw that you were uncomfortable. Though, he could not pinpoint why. “Um, I-I need to go. See you, Buck. Bye guys.” sprinting out of the restaurant, you hoped nobody would follow you. Not in the mood to deal with anyone right now. All you wanted was to be alone right now. Your mind the only one keeping you company. But your mind was not really the kindest to you. Not in this particular moment. So what? Bucky had a date. You knew that would happen sooner or later. He was a good looking man. More importantly, you just wanted him to be happy. Genuinely happy.
Fucking great. Who could you talk to? You still were not done being mad at Sam. And now you were mad at Bucky for something he did not even do. He sort of did. He could have said no. If he really did not want to, he could have said no. Bucky was enough of a man to speak his mind, you knew that. Maybe he did want to go on a date with her. What was her name again? Not that you cared too much. But still. Blinking away the tears that had formed at the corners of your eyes, you kept on walking. Without a real destination. You were stupid. Friends. Why could you not accept this? Usually, you would call Steve in such a situation. Or even Tony. But it was too late now. They were not here anymore. You had to deal with that sooner or later. Whether you liked it or not. Contemplating calling Sam, you eyed your phone carefully. One more button. But nope. The anger was bigger than the need to talk to someone. Stubborn you. Wilson could make you feel better. But you would most likely end up yelling at him. And you knew you would regret your words later on. So might as well stay silent for the time being. Until you calmed down enough.
Tumblr media
It was 10 pm. Date time for Bucky. That same restaurant. Being the gentleman that we was, he even brought her flowers. Like it used to be back in the 40s.
“Well, if that’s not the most adorably old-fashioned thing anyone’s ever done.” Bucky felt lost. In her company. “Grab a seat, I’ll be done in a few.”
“Okay.” he could up & leave. It would not be too late. All he knew was that it felt wrong.
“So, have you dated much since half the fish in the sea came back?”
“Not really. I, um…tried the whole online dating thing. (Y/N), the girl who was here with me yesterday, she set up a profile for me because I didn’t understand a single thing.” laughing at the memory, he thought back to when he called you to ask you for a favor. How you laughed at him for wanting to try this whole bullshit. “It’s pretty crazy. A lot of weird pictures.”
“What kind of weird?”
“I mean, tiger photos? Half the time I don’t even know what I’m looking at. It’s…It’s a lot. When I showed (Y/N), she simply said that this was what I signed up for.”
“You sound like my dad.” definitely something a man did not want to hear while on a date. On the other hand, he did not even want this to be a date. “Wait. How old are you?
“A hundred & six.” only he could make it sound so casually. Like it was the most normal thing on this planet. Both laughed at his words. Simply because it was so absurd.
“What’s up with your big gloves?” a sensitive topic she just touched.
“I, um, have, uh…poor circulation.” sure thing.
“Hmm…Hey, what is it about this (Y/N) girl & you?” his eyes widened at her question. What was she getting at?
“She’s my friend. Why?” his dumbfounded expression made her chuckle.
“A friend, huh?”
“Um, yeah.”
“You sure about that?” an eyebrow raised. A questioning stare was sent his way.
“Why does everyone think I don’t have friends?” throwing his head back in frustration, he let out a long sigh.
“It’s not that.” she stopped briefly, thinking about her next words carefully. “Just, you guys seem pretty close.”
“Well, we’ve known each other for years.” he reasoned, gesturing with his hands to bring his point across.
“Yeah? And the looks you’re shooting each other when the other one’s not looking?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You two aren’t really subtle about this, you know?” she wiped the counter & did not even look at Bucky. He, on the other hand, started sweating.
“Subtle about what?”
“Oh, come on. Who are you kidding? I don’t even know why you’re here right now.”
“Because Yori set you & me up on a date.”
“And why did you agree?” she crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for an explanation from the man in front of her.
“I-I don’t know.” he responded truthfully. Because he thought it to be polite? Because Yori was the one who suggested it? Honestly, he was not sure.
“That’s what I thought. Look, you’re a nice guy & all but…just, listen to your heart from time to time. It’s late. You should head out. See you.” she turned around & walked further into the restaurant. Leaving Bucky alone with his thoughts. It was clear what she intended. Did not mean that it made this entire situation any easier. Bucky left without another word. Fresh air would help him think straight.
Tumblr media
Your phone rang & you sighed when you checked who decided to annoy you. Bucky. Of course. But wait. Should he not be on his date right now? Did something go wrong? Not that you wanted it to but if you were entirely honest, you would not be mad about it either.
“Hi Buck. What’s up?”
“I need your help with something.” there was no hesitation in his voice. Just him being straight forward.
“Please don’t tell me you need help on how to get the girl.” it was your way to lighten the mood. You did that because you could tell that he was incredibly serious. Usually, this was never a good sign.
“Can I send you an address? Can you meet me there as soon as possible?” his voice was low, deep.
“Um, sure thing. But just to set things clear…I won’t join in on your fun, Buck. That’s between you & her.” again, sarcasm was your way of coping with emotions. Though, it was not the right time to use it right now. His next words were proof enough. You should not mess with him. Not in this moment.
“Can you be serious for a second?” he raised his voice a little. It was not much but it was enough to leave you confused. Bucky was not the person to yell at you. Especially not like this.
“I’m sorry…Um, yeah, tell me where & I’ll get there as fast as I can.” gulping down, you waited for him to give you more information.
Tumblr media
Arriving at an unfamiliar building, you could make out Bucky’s form in front of it. Why would he want to meet you here? Where was his date?
“Buck?” your voice barely above a whisper. The night sky only illuminated by the moon that shone brightly. Providing just a tiny bit of light. Enough, to let you notice your surroundings.
“Thanks for coming.” you could tell that he was stressed, tough, you were not sure why.
“Is everything alright? Because I swear, if that woman did anyth-“
“No, she didn’t. Promise.” his warm smile was encouraging enough. It was clear that he was not lying to you. “Just…didn’t work out. But that’s not why you’re here.”
“Okay?”
“My last nightmare. Do you remember?” nodding for him to continue. “How I killed that innocent man?”
“It wasn’t you, Buck. You were being controlled.” touching his shoulder softly, squeezing it to reassure him.
“Whatever…That guy, it was Yori’s son. I want to, need to, apologize. Even though the apology comes way too late.” you nodded at him, your eyes meeting his briefly. Now you knew why he called you. He did not want to do this alone. No. He wanted you by his side. To support him through it. Entering the building together, Bucky led you to the apartment Yori lived in. His hand raised to knock on the door. Surprisingly, he did not waste any time. He wanted to get this over with. Understandingly so. No words were exchanged. You being here, with him, that was more than enough.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” Yori opened the door, his face showed confusion by the appearance of you two. “How was the date?” you could not help but roll your eyes at the old man in front of you. Looking at Bucky, you were worried when you saw him having an internal conversation with himself. Mouth opening & closing again. No words coming out. Risking a look inside the apartment, you noticed a small picture frame with who you assumed to be his son. The one Bucky killed. No. The one the Winter Soldier killed.
“It was…It was good.” Bucky mumbled.
“Bullshit.” you followed after. None of them heard you, though. Luckily.
“Forgot I owed you for lunch.” Bucky handed him money. If you were not mistaken, this was not a form of apologizing. He had a hard time, though, that much was obvious. Afterwards, Bucky turned around & walked away without another word. Which left you alone with a confused looking Yori.
“I’m sorry for the disturbance, sir. Have a good night.” plastering on the sweetest smile you could offer, you followed Bucky outside. Jogging to keep up with the super soldier.
Back outside, you saw Bucky holding his little notebook in his hands. You knew about it. Because you were the only person he talked to when it came to his therapy sessions. A look over his shoulder could tell that his eyes were trained on the name being circled. His body was tense. That was not what he planned.
“It’s okay, Bucky.” your hand stroked over his lower back in a comforting way. Your forehead rested against his shoulder, hoping, that it would ease him a little. You could feel him calm down at your touch. “Give yourself some time.” you mumbled quietly, knowing he could hear you clearly due to the calm night. You just hoped that he would not beat himself up too much. Not more than he already did.
Tumblr media
You were back in your own apartment. Still no words from Sam. But that was nothing new. Sometimes, he would go radio silent for a few days but after that, he would always check in with you. Maybe he figured that you were mad at him. For giving away the shield & all. And he probably was busy with work. The work he did with Torres. If he needed your help, he would call you for sure. Your TV got your attention again. Something told you to watch closely. So you did.
“Unrest, in the wake of recent events, has left us vulnerable. Every day Americans feel it. While we love heroes who put their lives on the line to defend Earth, we also need a hero to defend this country. We need a real person who embodies America’s greatest values. We need someone to inspire us again, someone who can be a symbol for all of us. So, on behalf of the Department of Defense & our Commander-in-Chief, it is with great honor that we announce here today that the United States of America has a new hero. Join me in welcoming your new Captain America.” the crowd cheered loudly & someone walked through the door. You could not believe what was happening. Please, this had to be a bad dream. When would you wake up form this hell? A man, wearing his suit, holding his shield, greeted the people. Looking at your hands, you could see small, blue sparks forming at the tips of your fingers. That only ever happened when you had no control over your emotions. Right now, you were everything but in control. Of course he had to wink at the camera like the sick person he was.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me…” breathing out lowly, you put your head into your hands, completely ignoring the sparks there. You did not feel them anyway. If you ever met this son of a bitch it would not end well for him. And the next time you would meet Wilson? Fingers crossed he could deal with your angry & disappointed self. Because you were seething.
~to be continued~
Next Chapter
Published (04/02/2021) by Cathy
Tags: @taina-eny​, @tanyaherondale​, @cool-ultra-nerd​, @toribentleyva, @buckyandlokirunmylife​, @annadier​, @howlongtillidie​, @mizz-kraziii, @theetherealbloom​, @millenniumloki​, @marvelbros-oneshots​, @ajbwasnthere, @bilesxbilinskixlahey​, @mystictimetravelcolor​, @dbrees256​, @sxpxrnxturxl, @dreamydreamerwriting​, @dolllstyles​, @angelicastiel​, @prettysbliss, @infinitelyforgotten​, @sweetserendipity65​, @lilystilinskicullen​, @partypoisonsblog, @btdsprayberry, @sarai-ibn-la-ahad​, @deamus-liv​, @simplybarnes​, @sethcohenluvr (let me know if you wanna be tagged <3)
360 notes · View notes
nanowrimo · 3 years
Text
Getting Started and Keeping Going with NaNoWriMo
Tumblr media
Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. Inkstacks, a 2021 NaNoWriMo sponsor, is a project-based platform and award-winning book featuring a Guided Path for writers. Today, long-time Wrimo and Inkstacks CEO Kimberly Cooper Griffin is here to share some tips for getting started with your novel:
Hello, fellow NaNoWriMo Writers!
This year marks my 10th anniversary of being a NaNoWriMo participant and previous winner. What a journey it has been. I started as an aspiring writer, and now I’m a published author with eight titles available and five others in the pipeline. And it all started with NaNoWriMo!
As most participants do, I started on Day One with an idea and the motivation to complete 50K words in 30 days, and with the wonderful encouragement provided by the team at NaNoWriMo, I did it. I slammed down all those words and then some. It was a thrilling experience and it proved to me I could do it—and I’ve done it multiple times since.
Looking back on that first year in 2011, the first thing that comes to mind is how much I’ve learned in the last ten years, and I wonder what I would have done differently knowing what I know now. 
It came down to planning, which would have gotten me off to a stronger start; and transforming, because I didn’t know what to do with my beautiful new manuscript once I came down off of my NaNoWriMo winner’s high. Believe me, the high I had when I hit 50K was intense! As you can see, I’m still NaNoWriMo-ing 10 years later and I have no intention of breaking this particular addiction.
There you have it, my writer friends. I want to talk to you about:
Getting started and keeping going
It all comes down to planning and transformation.
Planning
A good foundation results in a strong story, and each of the elements of writing cobbled together creates a beautiful structure.
Taking time in the beginning to figure out a few key elements such as point of view, main plot points, and basic character aspects will not only help you get off to a strong start, it will help you power through the often difficult period in the middle when you’re trying to figure out what comes next.
Inkstacks has created eight simple worksheets to help any writer quickly set up the foundation of their project.
Go here to get your FREE WORKSHEETS and get a strong start on your NaNoWriMo project.
Transforming
Rewrites are where the magic happens.
For some writers, rewrites are the bane of their existence. They’ve written the story, and the last thing they want to do is write it again, and again, and…again. But, I’m here to tell you, it doesn’t have to be awful. In fact, rewrites are my favorite part of writing. I get to see the beauty and emotion of my words emerge and weave together to make a good story into a more powerful and evocative story.
There’s a reason why the first ‘go through’ is called the ugly first draft. Like an artist creating a work of art, there are layers to your masterpiece. In the beginning there is the first sketch, and then there’s the blocking, and finally comes the definition and details. Rewrites bring out the impact of the work, taking a great idea and making it brilliant. To me, there is no better accomplishment as a writer than to take a handful of common words and transform them into a meaningful and clever sentence that carries my voice and imagination beyond the confines of a page.
When you get to the end of your NaNoWriMo month and you have your winning 50K words, Inkstacks would be honored to help you transform your ugly first draft into the magical manuscript you want it to be.
Go here to get your Magical Rewrites Project. 
Plus, all NaNoWriMo participants can receive 25% off all Inkslinger products by entering NANOWRIMO21 into the coupon code field in the Inkstacks webstore!
Your words are magic and the world needs your story.
Best of luck and early congratulations on making your dream come true.
With writerly love,
Kimberly Cooper Griffin CEO Inkstacks – For Writers
Tumblr media
Kimberly Cooper Griffin is a software engineer and an award-winning author. Her career in technology has spanned three decades, including work at several successful startups that have made it to the Fortune 500. With a breadth of experience that focuses on customer success, she has woven together her solutions-based mindset, technical aptitude, and a passion for writing to co-found Inkstacks.
74 notes · View notes
sinnabonka · 4 years
Text
It’s spec time: Love always wins
(Okay, I promised it, I’m doing it, there’s no stopping me now.) 
For the last three days I’ve been all over the place emotionally, clinging to every post saying Cas is not dead dead, saying his story is not done, but then someone wrote the “but” post and, there I go again, down the bottomless pit of angst. 
I’ve been a Schrödinger believer for so long with this show, one can get used to it. 
I know I’m not the only one feeling this way, regarding whether Cas is coming back or not. We won’t know till we know ©
Ep 19 speculations here
But let's speculate!
Apparently, there's nothing better for me to do way past midnight on Saturday and on Sunday morning (when I’m writing this). 
What makes us think 15*18 might indeed be the end of Castiel’s story:
Everything the crew and Misha told us, officially, is pressing toward Cas dying permanently in this scene. “Proud ending”, indeed. 
Castiel’s story has the perfect symmetry this way, with the handprint, the “Hello, Dean” - “Goodbye, Dean”, and the whole “Dean Winchester is saved” theme.
He is smiling, while Empty takes him, he’s content with his sacrifice. 
Something about Castiel’s monologue didn’t sit right with me for some time. The whole point of happiness being not in having, but in being and saying, gave me an idea of it being the way writers say we can’t have Destiel, but we should be happy to know it’s real and to hear it said aloud after all those years. 
Supernatural had to be the story of two brothers and their journey, and Winchesters driving in the sunset is the most probable endgame we are gonna get. 
Even though all those points seem valid, we can’t trust any of it. 
Let me fix it for you:
It wouldn't be the first time the crew lied about someone being on set. 
The handprint was not scripted. I repeat, the handprint was not scripted.
Castiel’s monologue could be just about loving Dean, and it’s just my poor wounded heart looking too deep into it and seeing my angstloving reflection on the bottom of the well. 
And Supernatural might indeed be about family, but, as we know, family doesn’t end with blood, and doesn’t start with it either. Cas is family, after all. 
I’m glad be are clear on this one.
What tells us Cas is coming back and we are getting Destiel endgame:
(Brace yourself, it’s gonna be wordy)
1. The most obvious, without rewriting his memory or going OOC, there’s no happy ending for Dean (not the crappy bittersweet substitute) without Cas. 
Even without the love confession in place, we’ve seen what Cas’ death did to him before, it shuttered him to pieces. Imagine the damage it's gonna cause now! 
“I love you, I always did, bye bye now, have a long and happy life knowing my feelings for you have killed me dead.” Really? No win can make up for it.
2. My fave point, aka the natural dynamics of storytelling. The big loss predicts the big win. The deeper the wound, the brighter the prize. Following the roller coaster this season has been, we should be up for a pretty high damn up pretty soon. 
So, there’s The Big Loss (losing Eileen, all of their friends, all the people on Earth and Cas). 
Next - The Big Win (defeating God, getting their free will back, getting humanity back). 
Then, we should have The Big Regret and Reflect moment (Sam and Dean talking a lot at this point, realization of things which are important, what they want with Chuck gone). 
And at the end, there’s The Ultimate Happy ending waiting for us (see point 1 again in case you are not sure what that means).
3. You know what, forget it, this one is my favorite. The parallels. Throughout this season we’ve been spoon-fed with context (Geez, it feels nice to finally know we are not crazy, we are not seeing things, we got it all right!) and writers chose to do so via parallels, via reflections, subtle hints. 
It would be some lazy storytelling to shove everything to our faces, so, instead, we’ve got: Charlie and Stevie, Sam and Eileen, the world and humanity, Dean and Cas. 
Everyone separated. Forever? No, not really. And I don’t buy everyone getting their loved ones back, except Dean. C’mon.
4. Unresolved love confession. Yes, Cas might have died with a smile, meaning it’s enough for him to speak his truth and be gone. But Dean? Him sobbing in the dungeon, ignoring Sam’s calls (he literally never chose anything above Sam before), the “Don’t do this, Cas” part - it’s the lowest he’s ever been. 
To sum up, Dean didn’t get his closure. He might have needed five to six business days to process, but he still has his truth he has to find out and then give a voice to. 
And yeah, I know, he could confess via prayer or something, but we all know that’s something needed to be said face to face.  (Btw, he already confessed to Cas in purgatory via prayer once, you can try and prove me wrong, but good luck with that, sunshine.)
5. The perfect symmetry. If I were in SPN writers room, I would literally cry my eyes out of joy at the symbolism this ending gives. I would literally fight everyone against it. 
The broken man not deserving to be saved is dragged from Hell by the most loyal and righteous angel Heaven ever seen. 
VS
The fallen angel not deserving to be loved is dragged from Empty by the most loving and caring man the sun shone on.
I mean, c’mon, people. Poetry.
(We are nearing a very important thing here, fasten your seatbelts, please.)
6. The message the show wants to give the world has changed. From “it’s all about the journey, about saving people, killing things, no one ever gets what they deserve”, the philosophy has changed drastically toward the “good things do happen, you deserve to be saved, to be loved”. 
Come and see what lane we are walking right now: allowing yourself to love again, to experience things again / losing the love of your life a moment later / fighting for your love / winning your love back. 
I believe the final message is: love always wins. 
Love is not one’s weakness, love is power, love is strength, it’s a perfect fuel. 
Humans declare war in the name of love, kill and get killed in the name of love, but, most importantly, humans live and win those wars in the name of love, too. 
7. Go big or go home is on the table, and no one goes home this time. 
Supernatural was a bunch of broken glass for soooo long, I think this time writers are gonna give us something good, for a change. Not bittersweet good, but actually cotton-candy-almost-diabetes-sweet good.  
Why? 
Because *loud and clear* we deserve having good things happening to us! 
Also, it’s The End, the creators have nothing to lose, but, on the other hand, the ultimate happy ending would allow them to leave an enormous mark on the world and Supernatural to be known as the only show that actually could.
To sum up:  
Dean can’t be happy with Cas gone and, following the logic of prebuilt parallels, he won’t have to - everyone gets their loved ones back at the end, because love always wins. 
Cas might be at peace with speaking his truth, saving Dean and being gone, but it is not fair, Dean also deserves a chance to be heard. 
Few seasons ago I would laugh in my own face for these arguments, but the philosophy of the show has been transformed. During the last few years we were being prepared for this moment, slowly, gently being led toward this moment. 
Supernatural has to give us the Destiel endgame to prove their point.
click x click for more
919 notes · View notes
darling-i-read-it · 3 years
Text
Together
Ethan Winters x reader
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: violence, cuss words, spoilers for re7,
Author’s Note: I changed up the ending of the request a tad I hope you don’t mind. I hope you enjoy! I love writing for Ethan so this was a pleasure.
Requested: by @drinksomecoco, So I’ve just had these two fic ideas floating around that I wasn’t able to commit to. For Resi7, the idea is that the reader is someone Lucas had kidnapped and trapped in his weird saw games. They managed to escape while Lucas was distracted with family things and had found their way into the main house right before Ethan escaped his first family dinner, so they end up with him through the whole sordid affair. After everything is over, Ethan now has to choose between his wife, who he now knows lied to him their whole relationship, or the reader, who admitted at some point that they didn’t have much of a home to go to. Obviously wouldn’t expect anyone to rewrite the whole game’s plot, maybe more reflection while they recover and Ethan has to make his choice
Summary: the request
I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator
(not my gif)
Tumblr media
When you woke up your head was throbbing. You felt like you hadn’t known a moment's peace in days. You should have known, you kept telling yourself. You should have known that going this far out into the wilderness would only bring bad things.
A whole family of bad things.
Lucas was the one who found you out wandering by yourself. Honestly, you wished it was anyone else. He was a sadist and he kept putting you in these sick games. You had beaten him so far but you weren’t sure how much longer you could take.
You sat up in the cold empty stone room and rubbed your head. You looked around. There was a single bulb light above your head, illuminating the room. You walked up to the door and grabbed onto the door handle, not expecting it to work.
To your surprise, the handle turned, opening the door up. You stood there for a moment in awe. You had tried that every time you woke up but it had never worked. You had to be careful. There was a possibility it was all part of Lucas’s games. You took a step forward and looked around warily.
Nothing and no one in sight. He must have just made a fatal mistake. Your breath picked up as you started to walk around his little hellscape. It was a winding place, filled with twists, turns and trip wires. You wanted to run but had to make sure you kept your pace. You couldn’t move too fast with the traps littered around.
You took a deep breath as you opened another door and stumbled outside. You wanted to cry from relief. Air. Outside air. You looked around eagerly, making sure you didn’t see anyone else. It was dark outside. There was a trailer and then a large house to your right. You weren’t sure if you would be able to get away if you didn’t go through the house. Everything else looked pretty fenced in.
You went into the trailer and was pleased to find a gun and some ammo in there. You loaded the gun, thankful for the shooting classes you had taken years ago. You put the gun safely in your belt loop and carefully approached the house. You opened up the door a bit and glanced inside the large room.
You took a deep breath as you stepped inside. It was a large room with two staircases on either side of the room. You took in your surroundings. Just had to find a way to the other side of this house. That was all you had to do. The task didn’t seem so daunting when you put it that way.
Suddenly the door on the same floor you were on opened carefully. You took out your gun and held it up as a man opened the door and shut it carefully behind him. He had nicely cut dirty brown hair and he was wearing a green jacket that was covered in black and red liquids.
He turned around and noticed you which caused him to raise his own gun.
“Who are you?” he asked, voice shaking.
“Who are you?” He walked up to you, gun not wavering.
“Answer my question.”
“I...are you part of the family?”
“No. Are you?” You shook your head. You both kept your weapons up though, noticeably untrustworthy.
“I’m Y/N. I was trying to find a nice place out here in the wilderness to take some pictures but Lucas found me and put me in his little hell of games,” you told him. “Who are you? How did you get here?” He thought about whether he was going to answer you and took a deep breath before lowering his gun. You lowered yours as well.
“My wife went missing three years ago. She sent me a message...I found her here. But she’s crazy she tried to kill me and then this fucking family tied me up to a chair and…” He showed you his hand which seemed to be stapled on. You scoffed.
“I can take a look at that if you want. I know a little bit about medical stuff,” you said warily. He nodded a bit.
“I have to get my wife.”
“I have to get out of here.”
“Me too. Eventually.” You nodded a bit. You put your gun in your waistband again and Ethan walked closer to you. He still didn’t entirely trust you but he liked you enough. “Your wifes a lucky girl,” you told him. He smiled a bit. There was some unspoken truth there. Ethan could help you and you could help him.
“You mind telling her that? She’s still trying to kill me.”
=====
You and Ethan walked over to the trailer to get some sort of peace. You couldn’t stay there long but it seemed like it was a place where they didn’t look often. Plus, there was only one door to monitor. He sat on the bed as you knelt in front of him. You were carefully examining his hand.
“The staples were a choice,” you muttered. He chuckled dryly.
“At least it’s back on,” he told you. You nodded and sat down on your knees.
“It looks like you’re able to use it well enough. Once we get out of here we’re gonna have to make sure you get it looked at further. Here’s some more meds if the hand starts hurting.”
“You’re a Godsend.” You gave him a kind smile and stood back up.
“Alright, now where’s your wife?”
“I found a video of her going out to the old house. I have to assume she’s somewhere out there but you know, it’s a working theory.” You nodded. “I talked to Zoe. She said there was a cure here, for Mia.”
“And I assume you’re going to find it?” “If I can.” You took a deep breath and nodded.
“Alright. We’ll probably find it when we go and deal with Marguerite.” He nodded back at you.
“That was what I was hoping for.”
“You dealt with the old man?” He nodded.
“Barely.” You cocked your gun.
“Perfect. Then let’s go give mom a taste of what we got.”
====
“This house is fucking disgusting,” you whispered. Ethan nodded as he crouched down beside a nest of some sort.
“I second that.” He stood up and you quickly moved with him. You were quiet, trying to gauge where on Earth Marguerite was. You kept yourself together as you ran into large bugs and places that made you need to backtrack and find other things.
As you walked through the house you eventually made it up to a small window.
“Ethan?” You turned around, met face to face with some woman you hadn’t seen before.
“Mia!” Ethan ran over and put his hands against the barrier between the two of them. You found yourself hiding a bit of jealousy but you had bigger problems.
“Hey Ethan!” Lucas yelled, grabbing Mia around the neck. Ethan started to shake the barrier. Lucas met your eyes as he pulled her away. “I’ll get you bitch. Just you wait!” You turned to Ethan as Lucas and Mia disappeared. He gave you a nervous look which you returned.
Eventually the two of you made it out to some sort of greenhouse where Marguerite was waiting. She transformed herself into a disgusting, drooping and dangerous form.
Ethan handed you one of his two shotguns which you took with care. You raised it up to where her most vulnerable place was and shot.
Ethen came at her from your side. When your gun got knocked down Ethan put himself between you and your foe. He put his hand on your hip, turning you so you were effectively behind him as he shot his handgun. Together you were able to take her down, after much effort. As she fell and died you suddenly realized how exhausted and in pain you were.
“Are you okay?” Ethan asked, more worried then he thought he was. You nodded a bit and used his shoulder to steady yourself.
“Just a little woozy. We gotta move on.” He nodded and grabbed your other arm, holstering his gun.
“You’re gonna pass out.” You shook your head.
“I am not.” He gave you a look. “You know Ethan Winters, you’re kind of a badass. I would be scared if you were pointing a gun at me.”
“I already did.”
“And I was scared,” you joked weakly. He scoffed and put your arm over his shoulder.
“Let’s get to the trailer and give you a minute before we hit Lucas with all that we got,” he muttered. You nodded.
“That motherfucker doesn’t know what's coming,” you whispered.
“Yeah, a guy with one hand and a girl who’s about to pass out. He’s gonna tremble in fear.”
“Hey now, don’t you underestimate us. We’ve made it this far. Just gotta get him, get your wife and get the fuck out of here.” He didn’t get the same pleasant feeling when he thought of Mia. He decided not to bring it up or dwell on it.
“Alright. I believe you.” ===
Ethan sat on the bed beside you. You were resting for a moment. You promised him only five minutes and he watched the door. He didn’t mind much. You fell into sleep easily, clearly exhausted. He grabbed your hand and held it for comfort.
Your face was so peaceful when you were asleep.
“Ethan,” you whispered, eyes still shut.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“We have to keep moving,” you told him as you squeezed his hand groggily.
“If you pass out Lucas will kill you.”
“Yeah? You would let that happen?” He scoffed. Ethan realized suddenly, he wouldn’t let that happen. You couldn’t get hurt. He chastised his own thoughts, looking down at his ring finger but he couldn’t see it. You were holding his hand and blocking the view.
“Not if I can help it.”
=====
Lucas paid special attention to you. He wanted to make sure you suffered for getting out and killing his parents. You and Ethan were forced to play his little game.
You and Ethan stood together in a locked couple of rooms. He grabbed your arm before you could walk too far into the room.
“Y/N-”
“This is just like the ones he kept me in. I saw the footage of someone else doing this, I know how to do it,” you whispered to him. He watched your eyes. He was sweating and exhausted. He was relieved to hear that you knew what you were doing.
“Go on then.”
You were able to work through that puzzle which did piss Lucas off but you were already gone before he could complain anymore. Now you had the serum and you had both made it out alive.
You found Mia after an aggressive amount of fighting with the Bakers. The more you saw of this family the less you were surprised by the sight. She was stumbling and scared but at the sight of Ethan her face lit up .
“Ethan?! Ethan!” she called, throwing her arms around her. He held her wordlessly for a moment as he dragged her quickly to the boat you and Ethan had found.
“We have a serum, to cure you,” you told her. She gave you a scared look.
“Who are you?”
“She’s a friend,” Ethan said. You held each other's gaze for a moment and gave her a kind smile. “I didn’t see Zoe. Did you find her?” he asked Mia. She shook her head.
“I haven’t seen Zoe in ages. We need to get out of here. We can’t dwell,” she told you both.
“She helped me get this serum.”
“Yeah and that’s much appreciated. But we have to leave,” she said. “We can come back later.” You eyed Ethan. He looked over at you for permission and you shrugged.
“She helped us get this. It seems stupid to leave her.”
Mia was trembling, worried about the escape. You all were. It was right then that Zoe emerged from the darkness.
“Zoe!” Ethan called. She ran over.
“You got the serum?” You gave her a curt look and then had to turn away.
“We..we only have one,” Ethan said. He was holding the only one there. You had to use the other one fighting Jack. You looked away from Mia as she noticed that he was going to have to make a choice.
“Well then you’ll have to choose one of us to give it to,” Zoe said evenly. Mia looked over at him and Ethan just looked at you. You shrugged from behind Mia.
“It’s up to you Ethan.” You could practically see his gears turning in his head. On one hand, Mia was his wife. He came here for her. But on the other hand...Zoe could help them get out. They could try and replicate the serum if they were able to leave sooner.
He grabbed Zoe’s arm and stuck the needle in. Mia gasped, shocked.
“I’m sorry. I truly am. Zoe will be able to guide us to safety,” he told her. You stepped into the boat, helping Zoe inside beside you.
“I’m staying here,” Mia said, disgusted.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ethan countered. “My place is here. With her,” she told him. You watched as Ethan got into the boat in front of you.
“We’ll come back for you,” he promised. Mia’s face was shrouded by the dark shadows as the boat went down the river.
=====
Eventually you came up to a much larger boat. You ended up on the boat, where Eveline was. You had known about Eveline, only through Lucas’s complaints about her. You didn’t realize she was a child or that she was like the way she was. When Eveline realized that Mia might not want to be her mother, she wondered if you would be a candidate.
She knocked you and Ethan out.
You woke up with a start. Your head hasn't stopped hurting since the last time you woke up. Now you had no idea where you were. You stood up shakily. Eveline hadn’t taken your weapons.
“Ethan?! Zoe?!” you called out but there was no response. You looked around at the dark and grimy metal of the boat. You pulled out your gun. “Ethan?!” you called again, hoping that he would answer. Nothing.
You had to start walking around to find them. Your feet started to get wet from the damp atmosphere but you could barely notice. You ran into different mold monsters but were able to keep them down enough for you to pass.
You felt like you had walked for almost an hour before you saw Ethan. He ran into you, breath heaving, gun out.
“Fuck, I almost shot you!” he yelled. “What’s going on? Where’s Zoe?”
“She’s dead! Mia!” You furrowed your eyebrows and then saw that Mia was chasing him down with a weapon. Your eyes went wide. The shots you figured at her merely slowed her down.
“Run!” you told him and both of you started to book it away.
“We need to find Eveline!” he told you as you ran.
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know! But we need to find her!” You nodded, taking a sharp turn.
“Lead the way!”
====
You had to watch Ethan kill his wife. You watched him as his love for her was broken down to pieces as he shot her. You helped obviously. But he fired the last shot, as she asked him why he had chosen Zoe over her. Even you felt your heart clench up a bit and you didn’t love her like Ethan had.
“Mia,” he whispered as she crystallized and then dissipated. “Why?” You walked up to him and put a hand on his back. He turned to you and hugged you tightly, burying his face in your neck. You held him there for a moment and then pulled away. You put your hand on his cheek gingerly.
“We have to keep going. We have to find her.” Ethan nodded and backed away to reload his gun. His face glossed over with grief and rage.
“Let’s go.”
=====
The last fight with Eveline was dirty. You had to get the shot into her and it happened but not after she erupted into screams. She looked like she was just a child. How could just a child do all of the chaos she did?
As your back landed harshly on the ground after being shot out of the house, you felt relief. Relief and pain. You could see the sun rising. For a moment you just laid in the grass as your ears rang.
Then Ethan turned to grab your hand. You turned your head to look at him. His face was dirty and tired. You would probably both sleep for a week after this ordeal. Your hearing came back and you could hear him try and talk to you over the sound of helicopter propellers.
“What?!” you called, probably far more loudly than you intended.
“Are you okay!?” he screamed. You nodded quickly.
“Are you?!” He nodded back.
“Ethan Winters and Y/N Y/L/N?!” You both looked up to see a large man standing over you. You sat up and he held out his hand for both of you to take.
“Yes?!” Ethan called.
“I’m Redfield. I’m glad we found you.”
Chris and his team helped the two of you into a chopper. You sat next to each other as it lifted off. You saw Ethan pull out his phone, miraculously uncracked. A video of Mia was playing on it.
“She lied to me the entire time we were married,” he told you quietly.
“I’m sorry. You don’t deserve that.” He gave the phone one last look and took a deep breath before tossing it out of the helicopter.
“You could have just deleted the video,” you told him, laughing dryly. He scoffed and nudged you.
“Now is not the time,” he said but his voice was miraculously light hearted.
“You’re right. I am sorry though. Once we have a two day long nap we’ll talk more about it.” “Where are you going? After we get back.” You shrugged.
“I don’t have much of a place to get back to honestly. I guess we’ll just see where the wind takes me.”
“Isn’t that how you ended up here?” You nodded sheepishly. He looked down at the house for a long moment before looking back at you. “Stay with me. We can help each other get out of this rut. You can monitor my stapled on hand.” You smiled, brushing a piece of your hair behind your ear.
“You sure?”
“I have room for one more now. I’d like it to be you.” You grabbed his hand tightly. He squeezed your knuckles, looking you in the eye.
“Alright,” you breathed. He nodded.
The two of you fell asleep in the helicopter not long after that, leaning on each other for support. You would heal, over time. Together.
Re8 Part 2
179 notes · View notes
amor-immortalem · 3 years
Text
Everything Undesired
Genre: angst, hurt/comfort
Warnings: dead dove: do not eat, heavily implied rape, gross misuse of a pact, dissociation victim blaming
Summary: not all pact masters use their pacts judiciously or in a positive way. What happens when a pact is misused in one of the worst ways possible?
A/N: so a while back I did a comic by the name of ‘Meet Me Under the Azaleas’ I’m no longer happy with the writing I put into it originally so I wanted to rewrite it using the same plot line and adding some extra scenes that weren’t in the original comic which I’ll be taking down tonight. It should work better as a fic anyway.
Chapter 1
“You are ours. We own you.”
Those words rang in his head over and over as he stumbled his way into his room, overstimulated, exhausted- a mess. He knew it was a mistake to answer the call of those witches tonight. The thoughts of what they did, how their hands ran over his body, what they had taken away. It made his stomach churn and tie itself in knots with guilt and shame. It burned just the same as the rope marks on his wrists and ankles- wounds that would heal within the hour.
“You won’t breathe a word of this to anyone- this we command of you, Avatar of Greed.”
Those women -no, they were monsters- abused the innate trust that comes with a demon who enters a pact with a human, multiple in this case. They had violated the boundaries he’d put in place the day he started dating his human. Oh God, what would she think if word ever got out? He had no way of speaking out- to scream the truth until his voice was raw.
He needed to shower, to get the stench of sex and sweat off of him. He had to get their scent off of him. As he entered the bathroom, Mammon tore off his clothes as he started the water. The lights remained off as he couldn’t bare to look at himself after what happened. Not after how he just let them use him like that.
He stepped under the boiling water and just let it run against him. The falling water did nothing to drown out the deafening voices running rampant in his mind.
“Disgusting!” They roared, “Useless! Pathetic! Weak! Whore! ….. Scum!”
He falls to the floor of his shower, hands gripping at his hair as he let out a whimper that eventually turned into quiet sobs. The steamy air making it harder to breathe. Why didn’t he fight against them harder- against their orders. No, he just laid there and took it.
He grabbed the soap and a wash rag and scrubbed his body until every bit of him was raw and even then he wouldn’t stop. It was only when he saw the blood swirling around the drain that Mammon realized what he was doing to himself- how bad the water burned the exposed skin. It felt like hellfire raining down upon him.
He felt horrible as he reached up and switched the water off. He could still hear it in his head as he reached for a towel- all the crying, screaming, begging for them to stop.
He was a pathetic, sorry excuse of a demon, he thinks as he wraps the towel around his waist and travels down the his stairs quietly. It’s early morning now. There was only a few hours left before he would have wake up for school. He contemplated just skipping the entire day. There would be know way he’d be able to function. He could always say he feels sick- its not that far from the truth. He would decide in a few hours, he thought as he crawled into bed. It didn’t take long for her to move closer to him. His naturally warmer body temperature was what drew her to him. His body involuntarily tensing as she nuzzled into his chest, arms slipping around his body. He would only tuck her head under his chin and drape and arm over her side as he let the scent of her shampoo relax him enough to fall into a light sleep.
After a short while, someone's alarm blared among the sheets- whether it his or Arella's, he couldn't be sure. Mammon patted around for the offending phone, just wanting to get five more minutes of shut eye. He eventually succeeded but not without waking his partner.
"Morning, Love," Arella sighed, her voice still laced with the grogginess of sleep.
"Mornin', Treasure," The demon yawns as he curls back up, pulling her closer to his chest. "Sleep well?"
"I did. What time you get back last night?" Arella's voice is soft as her hand slides under his shirt, rubbing gently along his side.
"5 this mornin'." He says as he tries to hide the way his body recoils from her touch, a pang of guilt strikes his heart as she notices. "Sorry... 'm not really feelin' all that great right now..."
"No, that's alright." She removes her hand from his side, choosing instead to rest it against his cheek as she readjusts herself so she's eye-level with him on the pillow. "How selfish of those witches to keep you out so late on a school night..." Its at this point she notices the puffiness and how red his eyes are. "You look like you've been crying... Is everything alright?"
He just shakes his head. Mammon wants so badly to tell her what happened to him the night before- the real reason he got home so late, but unsurprisingly, no words come out. He just closes his eyes, letting himself relax under her gentle touch. "I'm jus' really tired s'all."
"I believe it. You only got a hour and a half's worth of sleep. Would you like to just stay home all day, just the two of us?" Arella moves him so he's resting with his head on her chest.
"That's sounds.... nice," he hums quietly, so close to falling back into the clutches of sleep.
"Alright then. Go on and go back to sleep," She kisses the top of his head, carding her fingers through the soft, fluffy locks the other hand rubbing small circles in the center of his back. "I've got you."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This carried on for months. The witches would summon him and as long as he complied with their wishes, they would hold his secret. By the third time, he would check out- let his mind escape to anywhere but the present until it was over. It became a vicious cycle. They would call, he would go to them, and then he would crawl into his bed for maybe an hour or two before forcing himself to get up for classes that he often fell asleep in. After the tenth, once they had finished with him, he asked why they were doing this and they told him.
“We desire something to bind you to us for the rest of our lives.”
“A child.”
The demon’s eyes widened at that. Never in his life had he been so opposed to the idea of having children. In fact, just before all of this happened he had been daydreaming about what his children with Arella would look like if they were ever so fortunate to have any but a child with one of the witches? It made him sick. A half-demon born from a demon of his status had a high probability of killing its mother- one who he would then have to raise. How could he explain that to his brothers- to Arella? The very thought filled him with dread. How could he ever bring himself to care for a child conceived from a crime? A child that would always be nothing but a constant reminder of the worst nights of his life. They didn’t deserve a life like that.
And so Mammon did the only thing he could think to do: he fled. He ran back to the Devildom, back to House of Lamentation as fast a his legs would carry him. He crashed through the doors of the house. Never had he been so greatful to be the first one home. As he climbed the steps up to his room he vowed to himself never again. He wouldn’t give them what they wanted, consequences be damned.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It had been six months since his last encounter with the witches. There was nothing on their end- absolute radio silence. Part of Mammon wondered if they'd gotten what they wanted from him after all. Everyday was filled with the anxiety of not knowing. His nightmares had gotten worse. Most of them were based around those nights he'd spent with them, others involved everyone finding out a one-sided version of what had happened, all spun in the favor of the witches. He dreamed of Arella leaving him, heart-broken from the implication that he would stray from her and running into the arms of one of his brothers. The worst ones- the ones he would wake up from covered in a cold sweat in the dead of night- consisted of him standing in the witches' home, the sounds of screaming, the smell of blood, the piercing first cries somewhere between the call of a demon and the screams of a human baby infecting his senses. It all felt too real. It felt like a crushing weight on his chest.
Over this time, Mammon had grown distant from both his brothers and Arella, hardly spending anytime with them. He fell apart. The grades he worked so hard to pull up had taken a nose dive, he was hardly eating- choosing only to consume just barely enough to sustain himself. He no longer slept for fear of the nightmares and he instead threw himself into side jobs that would keep him out of the house well passed curfew as well as earn him plentiful amounts of grimm. He couldn't go on like this much longer.
Everyone was worried for him. None of them had ever seen the Avatar of Greed in this manner and the gradual change in his demeanor alarmed them. Despite everyone’s best attempts, Mammon hardly smiled anymore. He just simply didn't seem to enjoy all of the things he once did. They all knew something was wrong but when asked the white haired demon would shrug it off, say he was fine when he very obviously was not. Everything came to a head the night Mammon collapsed, finally falling victim to exhaustion and hunger.
It was after this that Lucifer called the family to a meeting while Arella sat with Mammon in his room as he slept fitfully.
"What do we do, Lucifer?" Asmo seemed distraught with fear. "Our brother is suffering from something and we don't even know where to start in trying to help him."
"We have to get him to talk somehow," Satan quipped, "Perhaps Arella can-"
"If this were any other situation, I would suggest it but right now, I don't think that's a very wise move. If she forces him to talk it could very well damage the bond they share." For the first time in thousands of years, Lucifer didn't know what to do. Whatever was causing this shift in personality was eating away at Mammon. "We'll try to think of a way to fix this- to find out what happened to our dear brother. So let's start at the beginning of all of this. What do we know about what he was doing before this happened?"
"Well, Levi started, "He was getting called up by those witch sisters with more and more frequently. I heard him come home super late- like early morning hours late..."
"And after that is when he practically stopped eating." Beel chimed in.
"And he was having nightmares almost nightly, afterwards." Belphie nodded. "I did my best with my powers to look into them but there were so many mental blocks that he subconsciously put up, I couldn't see or hear anything very well and what I could see didn't make a whole lot of sense. They weren't very clear, but they had something to do with the witches... and I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt associated with them."
"Then obviously something happened while he was with them," Satan said, brow furrowed. "But what that may be, we won't know until he talks."
"Asmo, I see the look on your face." Lucifer called out to the Avatar of Lust. "Is there something, you'd like share with the group?"
Everyone's eyes were locked onto Asmodeus as the demon sat with a contemplative look on his face. He was very slowly starting to piece together what had been going on.
"Not yet, but I may have a hunch." He finally said. "Mammon has a pact with these women, correct?"
Next
Masterlist 2
103 notes · View notes
chudleycanonficfest · 3 years
Text
Heart-Shaped Wreckage
Day 16, Story #2 is by @adenei
Title: Heart-Shaped Wreckage
Author: adenei
Pairing: Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger
Prompt: Songfic
Rating: T
TW: implied violence and near-death experience (but nothing explicit)
A/N: This is the part two follow-up to Rewrite the Stars.
************
Hermione’s hand trembles as she reaches over to her nightstand and turns on the light. She can’t sleep, which is a common occurrence as of late. Where she once relished in the quiet of her flat, now the serenity is too much to bear. She is running out of changes to make that will erase the worst, most painful decision of her life. The ultra-soft linens she purchased for her bed are anything but comforting and luxurious. They feel scratchy and cold, and the fresh and clean look of the white comforter with its floral patterns gives off more of a sterile vibe than the new slate she’d been hoping for. Instead, it serves as another stark reminder that all the vibrancy and color had evaporated from her life when she pushed Ron away.
It’s been 62 days since the disaster of the Auror gala, and 50 since Hermione’s received any form of contact from him. Ron has honored her wishes to break things off no matter how much it pained them both to do so. Part of her still wishes he’d floo into her fireplace or knock on her door, begging her to give them another chance. But she knows deep down none of that will ever happen. He is a man of respect, and he will always abide by her requests, even if she no longer wants to keep them herself.
It’s better this way. She reminds herself of the constant scrutiny they’d face if they stayed together, and the hurt and discomfort even at the mere thought indicate that her feelings haven’t changed. There is no way she could put him through that sort of subjection just so she can be selfish and happy. Their lives are too different, and they live in a world where the acceptance of all kinds of love doesn't exist.
So, in the grueling months since they ended things for a second time, Hermione has worked to make changes, some drastic, some minute, in an effort to force herself to move on. She is too proud to let anyone in her life know the pain that she feels with every conscious breath that she takes. Hermione has thrown herself into her work, staying at school late to mark papers, redecorate the classroom, or develop new lesson plans to benefit the students and create more hands-on experiences.
And once she realized that her preparation was complete through the end of next term, Hermione turned to her flat. Weekends have been spent on home projects. Painting the walls, updating the decor, and cleaning every square inch of her flat, all to help her forget.
But the problem is, her heart doesn’t want to forget. Every book she sits down to read reminds her of time spent with Ron. Her renewed efforts in the kitchen never fail to bring a smile or a chuckle to her lips as her mind traitorously wonders what Ron would think if he were here to observe the barely edible mess she’s created. Yet, Hermione is not naive enough to believe that it will change anything. She knows it won’t.
As she sits up in the enormous queen-sized bed, she reaches for the parchment that lays in tri-folds on the nightstand. The paper is worn, with visible wrinkles preventing it from lying flat and tear stains causing the corners to curl as she unfolds the delicate sheet. Hermione’s not sure why she’s opening the letter to read. She knows it won’t bring her the comfort she craves or the answers she desires.
The messy scrawl gives way to Ron’s only correspondence with her since the last time they spoke, and she latches onto it as if it’s the only life preserver on a capsizing vessel. It’s the only thing she has left. The only reminder of the life she could have had.
I’m not scared to tell the truth. 
I went to hell and back and I went with you
Remind me what we were before,
When you said you are mine, and I am yours
Hermione,
There’s a lot I want to say and I’m not sure if I can fit it all in this letter, but I’m going to try. I never meant for any of this to happen, but I did mean everything I said that night. I’m not afraid to tell you how I feel. What we have, er, had, I guess, is special. I’ve never felt this way about anyone in my life, and I don’t think I ever will. And it’s not just about the case and finding comfort in each other. 
When we broke things off after graduation, I felt like a part of me was missing. The Auror academy kept me busy, and sure, my life moved on, but I wasn’t really happy. Not as happy as I was when we were together. And then fate brought us back together and we decided to make another go of it, that’s when I realized that you were what was missing. You make my life so much brighter, so meaningful, and I’m sorry if I sound like a sap, but I need you to know how I feel.
I would give up everything for you. Social status means nothing to me. If the Aurors sack me because of my personal relations, then so be it. I’ll work with George, or find something else. If my family can’t be supportive, then it will be their loss. I’m not willing to live in a world that doesn’t have you in it, and I refuse to give in to the Ministry’s stance on bloody purity. 
I know this is all probably ‘too little, too late’ or whatever that Muggle saying is that you like to use, and I promise you I’m going to respect your wishes. But I had to tell you. I had to let you know because...well...there’s this mission that’s come up. It’s going to be bloody dangerous and Robards asked for volunteers because he knows how risky it’s going to be. Anyone who goes isn’t guaranteed to come back and, well, I won’t go into the details, but I volunteered to go.
I know, I know, I can hear you in the back of my head telling me that it’s probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done and not to throw my life away because we’re not together, but Hermione, it’s been twelve days and I can’t go on day to day like this. I can’t. Working is the only thing that eases the pain and gets my mind off of everything. I’ll be as safe as I can be, I promise.
I hope you find the happiness you deserve. You’re brilliant, always remember that. Just know that I love you, and it’s because I love you that I’m going to try to let go.
Ron
Tears threaten in Hermione’s eyes once again. It’s no different than every other time she reads the letter. Nothing has changed; Ron’s gone, still on his mission six weeks later and no end in sight. Hermione is sure this is the reason she’s not sleeping. With every passing day and no news of Ron’s whereabouts, she turns to the only object that can provide her with any source of comfort: the letter.
After three weeks of constant worrying and bags under her eyes so prevalent that even her eight-year-old students noticed, Hermione caved and wrote to Harry. Even though they can’t be together, she knows deep down that she can still care about his well-being. 
Harry’s response had been timely and brief. He didn’t have details of the mission but reassured Hermione that no news is good news. Hermione thanked him and asked for updates if it wasn’t too much trouble. The two had been friendly in school, growing closer as her relationship with Ron blossomed as well. She didn’t expect his alliance to stray from his best friend but still appreciated his willingness to be cordial with her after everything she’d put Ron through.
“Please come home to me,” she whispers into the darkness.
Her heart aches more as her eyes hover over the parchment once more, searching for the three words that she knows she’ll never read too many times: I love you.
For some reason, this three a.m. readthrough hits differently. She carefully folds the parchment, places it back on the nightstand and turns off the light. There are still a few more hours left to find sleep.
Hermione tosses and turns as she attempts to focus on sleep and quieting her thoughts. At some point, a flash illuminates the night sky, and that’s when the pieces begin forming more vividly in her mind. The clap of thunder follows seconds later, and with it, a realization is born. As the rain begins its slow cadence of pitter-patters on the window, the brevity of Hermione’s decision hits her with the force of the storm strengthening outside.
I don’t know much, but I know myself
And I don’t want to love anybody else
So let’s break the spell and lift the curse
Remember when we fell for each other head first
There is only one question that forms in her mind. One question that surpasses any of the other thoughts she’s managed to cope with over the last two months. 
What have I done?
None of her previous attempts to move past this matter anymore, even though it’s too late, and there’s nothing she can do. 
Three days later, Hermione is finishing up her night-time routine when there’s a knock on her door. She looks at the antique clock on the wall that reads 10:45. Her heart plummets to her stomach. No one calls this late at night with good news. She stands frozen in place, amazed that the glass of water in her hand hasn’t spilled to the floor as a result of her shock.
Another knock, and Hermione manages to lift her feet from the floor. She reaches over and sets the glass on the counter before pulling her dressing gown tight around her waist. The carpet feels thick and heavy, as if her feet are wading through mud and sludge as she makes the torturous trek to the door. Five steps feel like five thousand. She’s sure all of this has happened in a matter of seconds, but it feels like minutes. Maybe the caller will be gone by the time her eye reaches the peephole.
Her hope is instantly quashed when she peers through the tiny circle to see an older gentleman that she doesn’t quite recognize at first. He’s wearing an overcoat and tan bowler hat, and is looking down at a torn piece of parchment. A pair of cerulean blue eyes drift back up to the number on her flat’s door, and that’s when the familiarity hits Hermione like a muggle slamming into the brick wall that separates platforms nine and ten at King’s Cross Station.
She can feel the blood drain from her face as dizziness overcomes her. Falling forward, she clasps onto the doorknob to steady herself. The noise catches the gentleman’s attention.
“Er, Ms. Granger. Are you home? It’s very important that I speak to you. Please, I mean no harm if you’ll open up.”
Hermione struggles to find her voice to respond. Her hands are shaking so violently that she can barely latch on to the deadbolt that has been fastened for the evening.
“Oh, er, please forgive me. We haven’t formally met, but it’s Mr. Weasley out here. Ron’s father.”
Hearing Ron’s name gives Hermione the strength that she needs to click the deadbolt to the left as she manages to turn the door handle with her other hand. Pulling the door open, she slowly looks up at the elder Weasley.
“Is—is everything okay?” Her voice is raw and weak, and she’s sure the shock is the only thing preventing the tears from pooling in her eyes.
“Er, no, it’s not. May I come in?” His eyes dart around, as if he doesn’t want to discuss the matter out in the open.
Hermione opens the door wider to let him in and manages to shut it when he’s through the entryway. Her free hand fiddles with her wand that’s still inside her pocket—just in case—though she fears no imminent threat from Ron’s father.
"Ms. Granger, I’m sorry for calling so late. I wouldn’t be here at all, actually, if it wasn’t for Harry mentioning—ah, well, that’s no matter...” 
Mr. Weasley is rambling, and Hermione has trouble processing his words. Her breath catches at the mention of Harry’s name, which draws Mr. Weasley’s attention to her, helping him get to the point of his late-night visit.
“Ron’s been gravely injured. He’s at St. Mungo’s now. They brought him in an hour or so ago. Molly and I met Harry and Ginny there as soon as we heard. He’s stable for now, but the Healers are unsure if it will hold.” 
Hermione grasps the back of the couch to keep from collapsing to the ground. A sob bursts from her throat as the tears that threatened moments ago now spill freely down her cheeks.
“Wh-what happened?” 
The words are spoken with great effort.
“We don’t have many details. The Aurors are still trying to clean up loose ends on the mission, but it sounds like the operation was successful thanks to Ron’s efforts. One of the target’s accomplices hit Ron with an unknown spell before he was caught.”
Even through Hermione’s own devastation, she can hear the tremor in Ron’s father’s voice. He’s scared, though he’s hiding it well as he continues to explain what he knows. There’s a sheen in his eyes as the moisture appears, emotions raw as he finishes bringing Hermione up to speed.
“Everyone was apprehended, and Ron appears to be the only one who got hurt. We should know more in the coming hours.”
Hermione can only offer a blank stare as she processes the information. His letter said it would be a dangerous mission. He didn’t sound as if he was hopeful that he’d come back alive. Or maybe he was hoping—no, don’t think like that. It was her fault that he’d gone in the first place. By some miracle, he was still hanging on, and the haziness of Hermione’s previous decisions about their relationship begins to give way. The fact that his father is there in her flat informing her has to mean something.
“Why are you here?”
It comes out harsher than Hermione intends, but after their less than amicable meeting at the gala, Hermione can’t be bothered with pleasantries. Even if his wife’s behavior was ruder than his own.
The older man pulls out a handkerchief and wipes beads of sweat off his brow as he sighs deeply. 
“Ms. Granger—”
“Hermione.”
“Right, yes, Hermione. I am aware that we did not get off on the right foot. I’m sorry I never introduced myself on the night of the gala. We weren’t expecting Ron to have a date. I’ll admit that Molly and I were ignorant in the way we treated you that night, and for that, I am sorry. Nothing can take back our words, nor can it change the way others view you based on your blood status, but please know how wrong we were. 
“Ron was devastated after you broke things off after the gala, and I suppose that was largely due to our behavior. It’s clear to us how much he loves you, and we don’t want to stand in the way of that. So, when Harry mentioned you had asked for news and wanted to come tell you, I insisted that I should be the one to see you. Please don’t let our ignorance stand in the way of your happiness.”
Hermione stands there, listening to Arthur’s apology. While she appreciates the olive branch, part of her can’t help but feel that it’s too little, too late, and a new wave of tears flood her eyes as she sees those exact words in Ron’s letter. She offers a curt nod to let him know she appreciates the gesture, even as her voice can’t find the words.
“I won’t keep you. I should be getting back, but Ron is in room 408. You are on the approved list as a family member if you decide you want to see him, and Molly’s agreed to let you stay with him if you’d like.” 
Arthur gives a weak nod as he dabs his forehead once more before making his way to the door. It takes Hermione a moment to realize what’s happening, and as soon as everything processes, she’s pushing herself off the back of the sofa and calling out to Arthur.
Look at this heart shaped wreckage
What have we done?
We’ve got scars from battles nobody won
We can start over, better
Both of us know if we just let the broken pieces
Let the broken pieces go
“I’m coming! Please, er, if you don’t mind waiting. I just need to get changed—”
“Of course.”
Arthur offers a paternal smile as Hermione rushes into her bedroom and throws on the first thing she can find. She almost forgets to grab her bag as she throws on her coat and locks the door behind her.
Moments later, they’re entering St. Mungo’s, and Mr. Weasley leads the way through the main hall to the lifts. It’s only as the gate shuts that nerves begin to bubble up in her stomach. She’s been running on the adrenaline of the news, and now she can’t help but wonder how the rest of Ron’s family will react when they see her. Or, what’s worse, how Ron will react if and when he wakes up.
When. It has to be when.
As if sensing her trepidation, Mr. Weasley places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. The lift opens, and the first person she sees is Harry in the waiting room. Her feet gravitate toward him of their own accord, and when Harry sees her, he meets her halfway and wraps her in a tight hug.
“He’s going to be okay. He has to,” Harry whispers in her ear.
Hermione nods, forcing her brain to believe his words. When they let go, Ginny hugs Hermione next, which helps her feel more relaxed. 
Maybe this isn’t so bad after all.
After one final squeeze, Ginny lets go so Hermione can follow Arthur down the hall to Ron’s room. He opens the door, and Hermione enters the sterile, white room. The most color she sees is his shock of red hair against the fluffy white pillow that’s cradling his head. Her heart begins beating faster as she spots his mum sitting vigil at his side. 
Mrs. Weasley looks up to see the two standing there. A hard, stony look immediately sets on her face in defense before it softens slightly. She stands and walks over to Hermione. She knows that she’ll have a harder time winning over the Weasley matriarch based on this interaction, but if Ron wakes up—and will take her back—she’s willing to do anything to make it work.
“Let’s give her some privacy, Molly. The healers will call us in if he wakes up,” Arthur coaxes his wife out of the room as he gives Hermione one last reassuring smile.
When the door closes behind them, Hermione walks up to the chair Molly was perched at and takes a seat. She moves the chair closer to the bed as she observes Ron in his sleeping state. A tear slips down her face as her hand reaches out to take his. It isn’t cold, but it’s also not as warm as she’s used to.
“Please wake up. You have to wake up,” she pleads, choking back a fresh wave of tears.
I can’t find you in the dark
Will we get back to who we are?
And I can’t fix this on my own
Our love is still the best thing I’ve ever known
She’s not sure how long she sits there, watching his chest slowly rise and fall as he breathes. No matter how hard she tries, Hermione can’t look away, for fear that his breathing might stop if she does. She’s so focused on his chest, that she doesn’t see his eyes flutter open. 
“Er-my-nee.” 
His voice is breathy, with more rasp than she’s used to, but she’d have given all the gold in her Gringotts vault to hear her name on his lips again if she had to. He lifts the hand that she’s holding, and Hermione leans in closer to press her face into it.
“You came,” he whispers.
Unable to contain herself any longer, she lifts off the seat and leans over him, capturing his lips with hers. They’re cracked and dry, no doubt from being undercover in who knows what kind of conditions, but none of that matters. Ron’s alive, and he’s kissing her back.
Look at this heart shaped wreckage
What have we done?
We’ve got scars from battles nobody won
We can start over, better
Both of us know if we just let the broken pieces
Let the broken pieces go
“I’m so sorry.” The apology seems frail as she mutters the words against his lips.
His other hand reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear and wipe the tears from her face. “It’s okay.”
“Don’t ever do something that stupid again.”
“Only if you give me a reason not to.”
Let the broken pieces go
Just hold on to each other tonight
“I will, I promise.”
She pulls away to look into his tired, bright blue eyes that carry the hope she feels in her chest.
“Does that mean…?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“I don’t know what life is going to throw at me, Ron, but I only want to take it if you’re by my side.”
“It’s about time you came to your senses.”
The hand that’s still cupping her cheek adjusts to pull her back to him as he does his best to crash his lips into hers for a searing, though still tender, kiss. His breath is hot as he groans against her mouth, solidifying their reunification. There’s an unspoken agreement to let the broken pieces of the past go. 
Tonight, they’ll start over, rewriting the stars to match their love story the way it’s meant to be.
75 notes · View notes
aphrostarot · 3 years
Text
Life Advice Pick a Pile
What is some advice your guides have for different parts of your life?
Please remember that this is a general reading and some things may not apply to you. Don't force it to fit. I offer paid readings on my page if you would like a personal reading. Prices are listed there. Please message me if you are interested!
Tumblr media
Pile One (Moss Agate Moon):
Tumblr media
Advice for Family Life:
The Emperor:
It feels to me like you are not in control of your family life. You don't stand up for yourself and you let your family control your life. You are being told by your guides to embrace the Emperor's energy in your family life. Ultimately, you are in charge of your life and no one else is. Regain control of your life by refusing to let them dictate what happens to you.
Dragons:
You're reminded by this card that some of the people in your life are very toxic. In this case, it is your family that is toxic. Now is the time to take action, according to your guides. By having the Emperor come out alongside it, it indicates they want you to fight back and regain control over your life.
Advice for Friendships:
Page of Cups:
You’ve been at a standstill in your friendships currently. Nothing good is happening and nothing bad is happening either. It feels to me that you don’t really hang out with your friends much, you just keep in contact through texts and calls every now and then. Your guides are telling you that in the rest you have been taking from your friends you are giving yourself the chance to recharge your batteries and recuperate. They are telling you that soon you will be ready to get back out there and hang out with your friends more often. Be patient with yourself during this time.
Confidence:
It seems to me that you may be lacking confidence when it comes to your friends. Perhaps this is why you have taken a break from them. Finding your confidence is the key to getting back on track with your friends, according to your guides. Be patient with yourself, confidence comes with time, it is not an overnight thing.
Spaceship:
You have been led to believe that your voice - your unique perspective on life - is not worth listening to. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Your guides urge you with this card to not be afraid of being heard, especially when it comes to your friends. It is your uniqueness that makes you such an amazing person to be around. That is something you need to remember.
Advice for Personal Happiness:
Page of Wands:
This card tells me that currently, you are a Debbie Downer in your life and your guides are telling you that the way for you to become happier in your day-to-day life is by embracing your more playful side, becoming more fun-loving.
Eight of Cups:
This card represents shedding the old and moving on to the new. Your guides are telling you that it is time to let go of your negative mindset and embrace your more fun-loving, playful side. As a result, you will embrace more happiness in your life.
Lavender:
You have been distancing yourself from your found family and this card encourages you to make an effort to get back with them. Your personal happiness depends on surrounding yourself with people who make you feel like the best version of yourself, people you can trust with anything in the world. Now is the time to reconnect or make new connections your guides say.
Advice for Work and/or Education Life:
Ten of Wands:
In your work or education, you have been burdened a lot. There have been a number of bad things that have happened in either area of your life that set you back. You've been struggling tooth and nail to regain your footing, but you keep falling short here and there.
Knight of Swords:
These areas of your life require a greater level of aggression from you. Having more confidence is essential in this area. Until now, you seem to have let things come your way and knock you down without fighting back as much as you should have. Your guides want you to begin fighting back. You don't have to accept everything that comes your way.
Villain:
Sometimes the evil wins, and that's a hard truth to swallow. In your work/education life, that seems likely. You're being urged to reclaim control over your journey and rewrite your story. It is up to you to be who you want to be and to do what you want to do. To change your life from here on out, you must recognize that you are in charge and have the power to do so.
Advice for Romantic Relationships:
Three of Cups:
Throughout your romantic relationships, you have made a lot of good decisions that you haven't celebrated. For some, I feel that you have ended relationships that were not serving you in the past, which took a lot of strength and you haven't been able to celebrate. At this moment, your guides are telling you to celebrate everything you have done to get where you are now. Additionally, this card encourages you to not stress about your outcome.
Thorns:
Having this card come up here is yet another message from your guides to celebrate everything you have accomplished in your romantic life. Weave together the crown that you deserve.
Advice for Personal Growth:
Four of Cups:
It seems to me that you have been in a state of stalemate in almost all areas of your life and having this card come out in your personal growth signals to me that that is true for this area of your life too. Currently, you are feeling bored with your current situation and you are being guided to seek out activities that will give you a jumpstart in your personal growth.
Raindrops:
For most of your life, the people you let in have only hurt you. You have stopped trusting others because they have never done anything good for you. As a result, you have locked yourself out in the rain, but you fail to realize that you do not need to be stuck in the rain forever. There will be some people in your life that you can trust to get you through your darkness. Your guides are encouraging you to begin to trust others.
Pile Two (Goldstone Star):
Tumblr media
Advice for Family Life:
The Emperor:
This pile feels very similar to pile one. It feels to me like you are not in control of yourself when it comes to your family life. You don't stand up for yourself and you let your family control your life. You are being told by your guides to embrace the Emperor's energy in your family life. Ultimately, you are in charge of your life and no one else is. Regain control of your life by refusing to let them dictate what happens to you.
Queen of Wands:
The Queen of Wands is very ambitious and a great leader. Their leadership is friendly and generous. When you start taking charge of your life again. Your guides want you to embrace this energy. Additionally, the Queen treats herself to luxurious items from time to time, so your guides are encouraging you to take care of yourself as well.
Bitch-Fire:
This card encourages you to stand up for yourself. In the past, your family has been pretty toxic, and you have allowed them to treat you badly because you are afraid of rocking the boat with them. It's not rocking the boat to stand up for yourself, it's keeping the boat stable. Now is the time for you to set boundaries with your family.
Advice for Friendships:
Two of Pentacles:
Balance is something that has been lacking in your friendships for some time now. It feels to me like the effort your relationships with your friends is not 50/50. You are either doing the most or your friends are and you aren't contributing as much.
Four of Wands:
As I said above balance has been lacking for some time now and this card only confirms that. You are being urged to regain stability in your friendships at this time.
Library:
There is someone in your life trying to control and manipulate you. This card coming up is your guides telling you that you need to regain control in your life. Don't let your friends dictate your narrative.
Advice for Personal Happiness:
Knight of Pentacles:
On this journey, patience is key. Being kind to yourself and being patient with yourself on this journey are important aspects of finding happiness. You will have bad days, but that does not mean you are not progressing. Happiness comes and goes, as it should. It is human nature to have a wide range of emotions not just a singular emotion.
Princess:
You can be your own knight in this card. You don't need someone to fix all your problems for you because you are capable of persevering on your own. Happiness can be found within yourself. You do not need others to provide it to you.
Advice for Work and/or Education Life:
Five of Cups:
You may have just lost your job or had to leave school and this has caused you a great deal of sadness. You're lost and don't know how to regain what you've lost. You are encouraged to learn from your mistakes here by your guides. What did you do wrong in the past that led you to where you are now? When you figure that out, you will be one step closer to fixing your situation.
Sun:
This card encourages you to paint the sun back into your sky. Find your happiness outside of work and school. It's not easy to let go of something, but in the end, it's up to you to decide whether you're happy. Find something within yourself that makes you happy.
Protest:
This message may only apply to some so, I am going to quote directly from this deck, “You’ve been looking around and noticing that the world is often unjust, but you’re not sure what to do about it. Like Katniss, you need to be the first spark of your own revolution. Educate yourself. Stand up for yourself. Don’t forget to stand up for others, whether or not you have shared experiences. If you can speak up and do so safely, then do it!”
Advice for Romantic Relationships:
The Sun:
It feels to me that you have been running from your love life for some time now. Feeling that you are better off alone. However, your guides say that this has been affecting your happiness. Now is the time to have fun and be happy, to allow yourself to feel things, to stop running from your emotions.
The Devil:
You may not allow yourself to be free and have fun because you feel that you need to keep up appearances and that means being mature and not having fun. That is not the right way to live. It is possible to be mature and have fun at the same time. You are encouraged to let loose and have fun, doing things you normally would not do.
Escapist:
You are encouraged to stop avoiding things in your life with this card. You will never be able to get rid of your problems if you avoid them or run from them. It is now time to confront your love problem head-on so that it can be resolved.
Advice for Personal Growth:
Four of Pentacles:
Your personal growth may have been affected by not putting yourself first in your life. In this card, your guides are telling you that now is the time to focus on yourself. You should be possessive of your time and energy. Don't just give it away for free. This is the time when you should concentrate on yourself, not anyone else.
Mirror:
Recently, you have been feeling pretty self-conscious about your body. It is time for you to learn to love your body as it is. Do not try to change it. According to your guides, hating your body and trying to change it is preventing you from progressing in your personal growth. You are beautiful the way you are, so don't try to change. Now is the time to realize that.
Pile Three (Green Aventurine Moon):
Tumblr media
Advice for Family Life:
Four of Wands:
Your family life is lacking stability, and things aren't going very well for you. You're being urged by your guides to restore stability to your family life. You are being told to make your home as comfortable as possible if you lack comfort at home. They are telling you to do everything in your power to feel comfortable and at home within your family.
Raindrops:
Because you feel like you do not need your family, you don't value them much, not really giving them much time. Perhaps they wronged you in the past, and you have not forgiven them, so you distance yourself from them instead. With this card, your guides urge you to take a chance on your family. You will not be harmed as they have in the past.
Advice for Friendships:
Six of Wands:
When it comes to your friendships, you let your ego get in the way. When you are wrong, you refuse to admit it. You are allowing your pride to obstruct your happiness. Your guides advise you to be more willing to admit your failures. Stop blaming others for your mistakes; they are warning you that if you do not your ego could end up being your downfall.
Dragons:
Slaying your dragons is the theme of this card. It may be that the above-described person is a friend, and if this is the case, then this card encourages you to tell them how their treatment of you has made you feel. In contrast, if you are the person described above, this card is asking you to stop that behavior because it causes you more harm than good, and it also harms those around you.
Advice for Personal Happiness:
Three of Pentacles:
When it comes to your own personal journey, I think you are overconfident and believe you know everything about yourself. You believe that you have nothing more to learn about yourself and what makes you happy. Your guides are telling you that this is not the case. You are being urged to learn more about yourself, to try new things, and to look for new things that will make you happy.
Tree:
While you thought your whole life that you were an empath, now you think you aren't, and the people around you are just dumping all of their problems on you. If that is the case with you then your guides are advising you to let go of the people who are affecting your happiness. People in your life shouldn't dump all of their problems on you for their own sake. It's time to stand up to them and stop putting up with them.
Advice for Work and/or Education Life:
Six of Swords:
The feeling I am getting about this area of your life is very stagnant. It seems that you have not been moving forward in your work or education. You may no longer be passionate about your job or school, or you may not know what you want to do. Your guides are telling you that progress will be made in the future. With this card, your guides are telling you not to lose faith. Soon you will be making more progress toward your goals. Additionally, they are encouraging you to recognize how far you've come in this area of your life.
Expectations:
There's a possibility that you're feeling very stuck in your current situation because what you wanted to do goes against what society wants from you. You are encouraged not to seek approval from anyone else with this card. Those who are stuck in a mindset of restrictive societal norms will always have negative things to say. You are being told by your guides that you can be whoever you want to be. Nobody other than yourself should determine who you are.
Advice for Romantic Relationships:
King of Swords:
I feel that for some of you, you are or were in a relationship with a very controlling masculine force. You are constantly judged and criticized for everything you do or say. They are extremely manipulative and know how to get you to do and say whatever they want of you. Their goal is to dominate everything and everyone in their life. If you are currently in a relationship with this person you are being advised that this person is not good for you at all. If you are no longer in a relationship with this person your guides are confirming to you that this person was not good for you and will never be good for you.
Lighthouse:
For this message, I am going to quote directly what the Oracle deck says. “There will always be someone in your life who doubts the amazing things you’re capable of. It is then that you must decide to be your biggest champion. Believe wholeheartedly in your own worth, regardless of outside opinion. Feed yourself a steady diet that speaks to self-love, self-kindness, and self-confidence.”
Advice for Personal Growth:
The Emperor:
As a result of caring deeply about what others think of you, you have given up control over your own growth. You have given it to the people in your life and to society. Your constant fear of being perceived negatively is what prevents you from thriving. You are being told to regain control by your guides. You should not worry about what others think of you. The only opinion that matters is your own, and once you realize this, you will be on the right track.
Spaceship:
This card tells you not to be afraid to sing. Because you're afraid of what others will think of you, you haven't let your voice be heard for a very long time. Your guides tell you with this card that your opinions and beliefs matter, do not let fear hold you back. Let your voice be heard, even if you are the only one to hear it.
Pile Four (Tigers Eye Star):
Tumblr media
Advice for Family Life:
Four of Cups:
Currently, you are unhappy with your family situation. My impression is that nothing has been happening in your family for quite some time. You want things done, but your family never listens. Also, I feel that some of you see how other people live their lives with their families on social media and compare that to your own. You feel like your family isn't good enough, and you want to change that, but don't know how.
Nine of Wands:
For some, recently your family has been arguing more than usual. You are in a lot of pain because of this. You hate to see people argue and when it happens in the place where you call home, it hurts. A number of people have also recently had a fallout with a member of their family that has been very painful.
Spaceship:
For some time now, you have not allowed your voice to be heard in your family. You fear rocking the boat so you keep your true opinions to yourself and say what your family wants to hear. You are being told by your guides that now is the time to let your voice be heard. Make sure you express your needs and desires to your family and don't forget to set boundaries.
Advice for Friendships:
The Fool:
For some, I feel that you have lost almost all of your friends throughout the years or that you really have trouble making new friends. You lack confidence because you are afraid that people will see the real you. It is time to start some new friendships, according to your guides. Embrace your true self and be enthusiastic when it comes to new beginnings.
Sun:
You feel very insecure when people mention their friends because you have struggled your entire life to maintain friendships. When it comes to friendship, you try to avoid it at all costs. As your guides tell you, you are more than capable of forming and maintaining friendships. People will make you happy, but first, you have to make yourself happy. Find out what makes you happy and you will be able to find friends who can make you happy because you will know what you need.
Gold:
Your past friendships consisted of people who tried to make you believe that you were broken and they were the only ones who could fix you. Because of this, they ended up controlling you and doing everything in their power to make you miserable. Your guides are telling you with this card that only you can fix yourself and that you should not trust those people. When you feel you are not broken, but someone is trying very hard to make you feel broken, that is not true friendship. You have to realize this in order for you to understand that you are not to blame for your past friendships failing.
Advice for Personal Happiness:
Four of Wands:
You have been lacking stability when it comes to your happiness because of your current life situation. You are being told to regain stability in your personal happiness by your guides. Discover new things that make you happy. Explore new passions, styles, food, etc.
Protest:
Stand up for yourself in the face of all the negativity around you. You can be happy again in your life by advocating for yourself and standing your ground. Set boundaries with people in your life who are detrimental to your happiness.
Advice for Work and/or Education Life:
Knight of Pentacles:
Your work and school life may not have been going well for some time now. There are so many dreams you have of being successful, and you feel like nothing is working out in your favor. At this moment, your guides are telling you to practice patience.
King of Pentacles:
Your guides are telling you with this card that success is on the way. Your hard work will soon pay off. It is just a matter of believing that it is coming and exhibiting patience.
Evil Queen:
Sugar is what you deserve, not salt. In almost all aspects of your life, you have been receiving blows after blows, and you have come to believe that this is what you deserve. As your guides are telling you, you do not deserve any of the negativity you have experienced, and you need to start believing that you deserve more so you can fight for it.
Advice for Romantic Relationships:
The Hierophant:
This is a great card for traditional relationships, ones that end in marriage. I think that you do not believe in marriage because you feel that they end in divorce, or they are just a negative omen. Your guides are telling you with this card that that is not always the case and you need to start believing in love.
Villain:
Everyone around you who has been married has divorced, and you feel as if this is your fate. Your guides are saying that this is absolutely not your destiny. You have the power to rewrite your own story and your story does not have to end in a divorce or a brutal ending in romance. Take power over your narrative and be who you want to be, love how you want to love. Make your dreams come true.
Advice for Personal Growth:
Ace of Wands:
You have been taught that you don't control your destiny for quite some time. Your guides are urging you to realize that this is not the case at all. You have free will and you can become whoever you want. Your dream life begins when you recognize that you can create it.
Feather:
Society and the people in your life have taught you that you are not in control of your fate, but that your guides/the universe are. This is not true. Your guides/the universe are there to help guide you in directions that will serve you best, but ultimately it is up to you which path you take. You can grow into your best self by realizing that you are in charge of your destiny.
Though tips are not required, they are very much appreciated. Thank you! Venmo: @ aphrostarot
Paypal: paypal/aphrostarot
125 notes · View notes
twinklelilstarkey · 4 years
Text
Secret - Rafe Cameron
[Requested]
Words: 3.9k+
Type: Fluff & Smut
Summary: Pogue!Y/N and Rafe have been dating for over a year and she has been keeping it a secret ever since.
Warnings: Fem!Reader. Quite bad writing, if you’re expecting an amazing smut, I’m sorry in advance. Mentions of Alcohol. Mentions of cheating (Sarah & Topper). IF YOU ARE MINOR, PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS!!
DO NOT REPOST, REWRITE OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORK!
Part 2
Tumblr media
Imagine how your life would be if you were a pogue and worked at a restaurant part time (which also does cater for many events in the island) yet dated a member of the richest family in the whole Outer Banks.
Now, that would be the big talk of the island, right?
Unless they didn’t know a thing.
And that is your reality. Nobody knows that you date Rafe, and you’re quite proud of how you two have been able to hide every single interaction.
Yes, there were very close calls a few times, but there was never once a day where you two were close to being caught.
Working as a waitress and caterer for most of the Cameron’s events was always a good enough justification for the two of you to be talking. So, nobody suspected a thing.
Not even Sarah. And not only are you insanely close (which is also bad for your friendship with the pogues), you don’t even know how many times you’ve slept over.
She never cared enough for her brother to know who sleeps with in his bed, so that worked in your favor as well.
“Wait, mom” You say while dragging the white box over in the back of your family’s car, “Weren’t we supposed to take the sliders in two boxes instead of a big one?”
As your mom studied you while deep in thought to check if you’re right, you lean on the side of the car as your phone starts to vibrate on your back pocket.
You pull it out to check who it is, and you decide to ignore it since it’s JJ asking if there’s any scraps from the food you’re taking to the Midsummers’ event.
“I think Rose told me yesterday by the phone that it could be one box” Your mom says, “We just have to be careful so that they don’t ‘look smushed’”
You grin at the sight of your mom air quoting the Rose’s words with a small annoyed look. Not that your mom doesn’t like Rose. She can’t, she’s her biggest client. And also gives amazing tips at the end of each event. But she is indeed annoying.
“That’s fine then” You say while shrugging.
“Can you go grab the last box while I go through everything?”
“Yeah, of course”
You run back in the house and go in the kitchen to get the last white box filled to the top with food. You don’t even know what you’re carrying sometimes.
You do have the curiosity to peek and check the delicious, yet cold food that your mom and her coworkers prepared. But ever since you tried to peek at the deserts and instead you saw a bunch of uncooked marinated meat. You never had the desire to do it again.
The disappointment was just too big.
You close the trunk once the last box is well put away and secured and walk all the way back to the driver’s seat.
“You have all the lists with you, right?” You check with your mom before driving off.
“Yes, Y/N. I will not forget them again”
(…)
“Rose, my dear, how are you?” Your mom asks right as she spots the blonde woman standing at the front of the mansion.
“I’m great, how are you?” Rose answers with a slightly less excited tone.
You jump out of the car as two men start walking towards it to help carrying everything to the back, where the event is going to take place.
“Y/N, I didn’t even see you there” Rose says as you open the trunk.
You look up at her and give her a small smile, followed by a whispered ‘hi’. You tell the workers where to take the white boxes with the desserts and you grab one with the raw meat (to be grilled later).
“Sarah is in the back, helping with the last decorations, if you want to go talk to her” Rose tells you as you walk past her, and you give her another small smile.
“Thank you”
You walk in the mansion and start to make your way to the backyard, finding Sarah standing on top of a ladder.
“Y/N!” She shouts as you walk out to stand beside her ladder, “What’s in the box?”
“Just… You know…” You start while looking up at her, “Food”
“Oh, come on! Let me just peek!”
“Nop”
You walk away from Sarah as she almost throws herself off the ladder to reach you faster. You make your way over to Heyward, Pope’s dad, but also one of the best cooks in all the rich events.
“I brough you the meats” You say with a playful tone as you’re close enough for him to hear you.
“Thank you, sweetheart” He says with a smile, finding what you said quite funny.
“Oh” Sarah says as she gets close to you, “It’s raw meat? I almost fell off of there and ran this whole backyard for raw meat?”
“Yes, Sarah Cameron” You say with a smile, “You sure did”
Once Heyward is done with storing the meat close to the griller, you turn back to the house, in hopes to get back to work, and Sarah lays her arm over your shoulders.
“How’s your day going?” She asks you.
“Going well, even though I would’ve preferred to stay home and watch a show on Netflix” You admit as you walk up the porch, “What about you?”
“It’s going great, I’m actually excited to this year’s Midsummers. Are you going to stay here the whole night?”
“As a worker, yeah”
“What? But I want to have some fun with you” Sarah says, sounding deeply saddened, “Can we at least share a drink? Like the old days” (old days aka last year)
“At the back, with all the waiters. Sure” You say with a smile.
Sarah groans loudly beside you as you keep walking towards the front door to look for your mom.
“Where’s the rest of your family?” You ask Sarah.
“Getting ready at home. Dad’s going to get here later than everyone since Rose still has to go home and change. Rafe, I believe, is coming in with the guys. And Wheezie… I have no idea, honestly”
“Oh okay”
“Why? Are you choosing me over one of my siblings?” She asks playfully.
“I mean…” You start, making her glare at you, “Wheezie is superior out of all of you”
Sarah gasps loudly but soon erupts into laugher as she almost chokes in her own spit. Once she regains her energy and composure, she speaks again.
“At least you didn’t say Rafe”
You breathe in at her words, holding back any physical way to show your distress over them and smile a bit.
“Yeah”
(…)
Two hours went by and the once empty mansion is now filled with all the rich families from the island. You have spent most of your time checking on all the boxes of food and other things, such as the small bags that each guest will take home (filled with seasonal dried flowers and overly expensive snacks).
Rose has always been a fan of these small bags, which means that she’s also overly obsessed with them being perfect and just like she imagined them.
And yes, you are just one of the caters, but since your mom is friends with Rose, your services are also brought up and offered in conversations many times as a ‘thank you for choosing us’.
You’re quickly surrounded with people wearing expensive, yet beautiful, dresses and suits.
Some of them mistaking you for a waitress and requesting drinks, in which you answered with a ‘sure’ before running to nearest waiter.
You’re wearing a white t-shirt tucked in your light purple cargo pants (color picked by Rose). The logo of your mom’s business is printed on the back of your shirt. And even with that, it still makes you stand out as much as the other colorful guests.
“Take this to the back, please” You hear someone say to the team of waiters behind you.
You snap back to reality and restart counting the bags laying on the table. As soon as you reach the last five, a wave of clapper fills your ears.
You look over your shoulder and the Cameron family walks down the white porch confidently.
Your eyes travel from Rose, all the away over to Wheezie, admiring the floral dress that her mom had chosen for her.
Rafe walks out behind Sarah, his eyes glued to the ground, ignoring the clapping around him (probably finding it an exaggeration). You hold your gasp at the sight of how amazing he looks, and before you could admire him for any longer, your mom screams for you.
“Y/N” Your mom calls, and you look back at her, “Can you give your opinion on something?”
You walk over to her, looking at the many drinks that are stored with the marinated meats.
“Don’t you think that this way too much alcohol for just the food that we’re doing out here?”
“Yeah, but Heyward might need more than we think” You say while shrugging, “You know how he is with his recipes”
She nods before answering.
“I’m starting to think his big secret ingredient is just alcohol. We’re just too drunk to taste it”
You roll your eyes at your mom’s dry joke and she chuckles at your expression.
“Sarah! Hi, sweetheart” Your mom says, looking at the person behind you.
“Hi, Mrs. Y/L/N. How’s everything going so far?” Sarah asks with a smile, being as cheerful and nice as your mother.
“Going great. You look amazing, by the way”
“Oh, why, thank you”
You stay in the middle of the conversation for a little bit more and your eyes travel through the guests, trying to see if someone needs something.
You find Rafe leaning back on the railing of the porch while talking to Kelce, Topper and two other friends; he looks somewhat entertained, which surprised you.
“Can I steal Y/N for a minute?” Sarah asks.
“Of course, she has done so much work so far. She’s free to go” Your mom answers.
Sarah pulls you by the hand with her to the middle of the party and starts taking you inside of the house.
“I need to tell you something very important” She says to you.
“A new gossip?”
“No. A new update in my life”
You two walk faster up the porch and you slow down, letting go of Sarah’s hand, when Kie notices you.
“Hi” She says with a smile.
You two share a small and quick hug and Sarah stands by you awkwardly, not wanting to disrupt your moment with her ex best friend. Kie looks her way and her eyebrows lift in annoyance.
“Will you be working all night?” She asks and you nod, “That’s a bummer, I wanted to hang out with you more”
“Me too. Once I find another free time tonight, I’ll try to find you”
“I’ll wait for that” She says with a smile, “Now go, I’m sure she needs to talk to you”
You look back at Sarah, who isn’t even bothering enough to give the dirty look back, and you grab her hand again, as a way to say, ‘let’s go’.
You two walk past the guys, that didn’t even notice you (or at least that’s what you think), and go find somewhere quiet to talk.
“Please don’t judge me for what I’m going to say to you” She starts, “It’s something very recent and unexpected”
Once you nod, she blurs it all out.
“John B?” You ask with a confused look, “You’re dating John B?”
“Not dating-dating” She corrects, “We’re… something”
“So, almost dating” You conclude, and she sighs, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just shocked. But why now? Didn’t he work for your dad for years?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t exactly know him at the time” She explains, “You’re not mad at me, are you?”
“Of course not,” You say, and she sighs in relief. “But, Sarah- What about Topper?”
“I’ll break up with him”
Those words hit you like a train almost. Over the year you’ve been dating Rafe, Topper and you have started an amazing friendship. He would always help you find excuses when you would be almost found with Rafe, or something of the sort.
And one thing you know about him, is how much he actually cares for Sarah.
Not that you want to pressure Sarah into continuing a relationship with Top just because you’re friends with him. Of course not. You just think he deserves a good explanation on why everything is going on, and not just a simple ‘I don’t want to date you anymore’. And Sarah is extremely bad at that.
But yeah, you don’t know what is going on in their relationship, therefore, you can’t judge Sarah’s actions all that much.
“You won’t tell him, right?” Sarah asks you, snapping you back to reality, “I know you two are friends but, I want to be the one telling him”
“Of course. I won’t say a thing”
(…)
“Y/N!” You hear someone scream from behind you, “I’ve missed you”
You look at the person, to find Topper, exactly where he was previously with Rafe and Kelce. But this time, he’s only with Kelce.
“I’ve missed you too” You say with a small smile, walking towards them, “Where’s Rafe?”
“Getting a drink, I think”
Topper lays his arm over your shoulders and pulls you in closer to him.
“How’s the event going for you?” He asks.
“Fantastic” You sarcastically answer.
“It’s not going that well for us either” Kelce adds, “These events are always so boring”
You agree with him with a nod and someone appears next to you, Rafe. You eye him up and down, admiring the suit that was chosen for him, and he looks down at you.
“Shouldn’t you be working, Y/L/N?” He asks teasingly and Topper chuckles beside you.
“Fuck off, would you?”
A smile appears in his face and he looks up to look through the large amount of people.
“Where’s my sister?” He asks when looking back down.
You look at him confused.
“Drinking somewhere, why?”
“Inside?” He asks and you look at Topper and Kelce even more confused, trying to find some answers for his questions.
“Yes?”
“Can you show me?”
You blink at him a few times in silence while looking at him and slowly nod. You lean way from Topper and start walking towards the door you just walked off.
“Have fuuuun” Kelce sings and you look back at him.
Something in your mind clicks and you feel like the dumbest person alive. You look back at Rafe and he’s straight up laughing at your dumbfounded face.
“Oh my god” You whisper to yourself and keep walking.
You two walk back inside the room, filled with a lot of waiters chaotically working and some richer parents having their drink in the silence.
Some look up at Rafe and recognized him. They tried to start a conversation, which never goes past ‘hi’, but nothing that they’re used to getting for the young adult/teen rich kids.
His eyes stay glued on the ground as you two walk, sometimes carelessly looking up at your ass, which looks marvelous in those pants.  
“Upstairs” He says so low that you almost don’t even hear him.
You two walk quickly up the stairs and as soon as you start making your way to one of the many empty rooms in the mansion.
Rafe’s arm circles your waist and pulls you against him as he holds your face with his other hand, pressing kisses all over your face.
Your giggles fill the hallway, echoing through the walls, and he makes a turn so the two of you enter a room. As he struggles to open the door, you turn around in his arms and smile up at him. He smiles back and pushes you in the room.
The door closes behind him and your lips touch right on that same second.
Right outside of the door and at the top of the stairs stands a lost JJ, looking for Sarah so he can finally give John B’s little note.
Or should he say Vlad?
They’re weird.
Rafe pulls your t-shirt from inside your pants and his hands attach to your skin under it. Goosebumps erupt through your skin as his cold skin touch yours. You get rid of his bowtie in a quick tug and start unbuttoning the first buttons of his dress shirt.
JJ walks through the hallways, kicking the ground in boredom, and looks at all the closed doors.
Should he peek inside each one?
But there are so many.
Rafe’s expensive blazer hits the ground and he picks you up once you pull away from the kiss. He sits you on top of the desk and pulls away to help you take off your shoes.
As they hit the ground loudly, your hands clasp into his cheeks and you pull him for another soft kiss.
Rafe smiles into the kiss and pushes you to lay down on the desk. He throws the unused notebooks, pens and blank books onto the ground, making you chuckle at his desperation.
JJ lifts his head at the loud noise and looks through the closed doors confused.
What in the hell was that?
“JJ?” Kie asks and JJ jumps at the sudden sound.
“Jesus Christ” He says while laying his hand over his chest.
“What are you doing here?”
He can’t tell her that he’s here to give something to Sarah. Especially that that something was given to him by John B.
“Uhm… Looking for…” He starts, itching the back of his head, “Pope and Y/N”
“Oh, Pope is with his dad in the backyard and I’m also looking for Y/N”
JJ nods at her words while biting the inside of his cheek and Kiara continues to stare, expecting him to say something else.
Once you unbutton the last button of his shirt, your hands move over to Rafe’s abs and up his chest softly. His kisses on your neck are slow and loving, his hands do most of the work, getting rid of your clothes.
As the zipper of your pants is heard, he moves up to kiss your lips again. His hand slides in your pants and underwear and you moan into the kiss.
“Why are you up here?” JJ asks.
“Looking for Y/N?” Kie answers.
Didn’t she just tell him that?
“Right. Of course,”
Rafe’s finger moves in circular motions over your clit and you moan louder as he does it. He pulls away from the kiss and smirks down at you as he also moves his hands away.
As you were getting ready to protest your distress, he grabs the top of your pants and tugs them down with your underwear.
Once they hit the floor, you ‘help’ him unbutton his pants and they easily fall down when past his thighs. You lick your lips and Rafe pulls you back to your laying position.
“As much as I would love you if you did that. We don’t have much time” He whispers into your lips and you nod.
Your shirt had fallen down from you sitting up, so it covered most of your naked body, but Rafe was quick to lay you back and get a grip onto your hips, bringing them right to the end of the table.
You gasp loudly at the feeling of his boxers against you and before he stands up, he moves down and presses a wet kiss on the inside of your thigh.
He stands back up and you wrap your legs around his hips so he can come closer. He smiles down at you and positions his hands on top of the elastic of his boxers, making you bite your lip at the simple sigh of his bulge.
“Maybe we should go check downstairs, this is empty” Kie says, noticing that JJ won’t say anything else.
“How do you know? All the doors are closed”
“Well, I don’t see Y/N closing herself in a room when she’s working” She says, “Let’s go”
JJ nods and as soon as Kie turns around, he starts following her back to the stairs.
On half of their back down, Sarah appears, very much to JJ’s relief but Kie’s annoyance.
“What were you two doing upstairs?” She asks.
“Nothing you deserve to know” Kie answers.
Sarah rolls her eyes and continues to go up the stairs as Kie mocks her voice and movements while making her way down them. JJ uses their hatred to his advantage and in a quick movement shoves the small piece of paper in Sarah’s hand.
“Oh fuck, Rafe” You moan out loud, back arching in pleasure as Rafe hisses out loud.
Rafe thrusts into you once more, slowly picking up his pace. His eyes move from down to your face. He brings one of his hands up and covers your mouth, before speeding up.
You moan into his hand and grip into his wrist, closing your eyes.
“Open your eyes baby, come on” Rafe says in a deep voice and you do as told.
His hand moves down over your neck and as soon as he wraps his hand around it, a malicious smile grows on his face.
“What is this?” Sarah asks to JJ.
“Vlad told me to give this to you” He answers, winking at her and running off to follow Kie out of there.
Sarah opens the piece of paper confused yet excited and smiles down at it.
She continues to walk upstairs discreetly, planning on just to go check on her makeup in the bathroom before going to see John B.
And as she continues to make her way up the stairs, her big and white flowy dress is noticeable enough.
“Fuck-” Rafe whispers and your grip intensifies on his arm.
The pleasure was getting easily out of control for you, and as soon he lifts his other hand off your hip and brings it down, starting to play with your clit. Bringing you over the moon.
“Rafe- Clos-” You try to say out loud but fail horribly with not only the pleasure but also the pressure on your neck.
“Come for me, baby”
His words were literally the only thing that you needed, his hand moves away from your throat and covers your mouth, letting air back into your lungs but isolating your possible sounds.
The pleasure hits you with an amazing strength, erupting all through your body. Your eyes roll back with the intense feeling and Rafe groans loudly at how tight you feel.
Sarah walks down the hallway without a care in the world, in hopes that she’ll find the bathroom, she had found last year, quickly.
“Sarah! What are you doing here?!��� Topper shouts from the other side of the hallway.
She looks back at him, annoyed expression over her face at the unnecessary volume.
“Do you have to scream?!” She screams back just as loud.
Rafe groans against the crook of your neck as he comes off his high, the only thing you two could hear was both of you heavily breathing.
Your fingers run through Rafe’s hair as he places sweet kisses from your neck to your lips.
“What are you doing up here?” Topper’s voice sounds from the hallway.
The two of you quickly sit up as a reflex and look at each other with widen eyes.
You are fucked.
- - - - - 
Quite literally. I’m so sorry that this smut is so trash! I’m actually trying, I promise. I’m just not a natural, I guess.
766 notes · View notes
Text
The Proposition (Ch. 1)
summary || You've been thinking about Steve's proposal a lot. Part of you wants to decline but a bigger part of you wants what he's offering.
pairing || alpha!Steve x omega!Reader (Past alpha!Bucky x omega!Reader)
word count || 3,706
warnings || A/B/O, eventual smut, therapy talks, kink negotiation, lots of dialogue — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI
notes || I can't get this story out of my head, really! First chapter is all about setting up the smut so I apologize but I believe in talking things out. Thank you to everyone who commented on the first part of the series! I'm going to try and be better about answering comments from here on out! Keep the comments coming, I love hearing from you guys so much!
You can also read it on Ao3. Do not copy, translate, rewrite or repost any of my work, even if you credit me. I always welcome comments and reblogs!
Sequel to Helping Hands: One Two Three Four Five
Divider courtesy of the talented @firefly-graphics
Tumblr media Tumblr media
After so many years of going to see Dr. Beta, you were used to the routine when you stepped through the doors. It was late in their work day so you were the only person in the office other than Valarie, the receptionist, who gave you a kind smile. “Good afternoon,” she said, typing something onto her computer. “Dr. Beta’s just about ready.”
“Thanks, Valarie,” you say, setting your bag down to take off your suit.
It had been weird the first time Dr. Beta had demanded you not wear the suit during your sessions. You protested but in the end, she won out. There were a lot of reasons for choosing a female-only office but this was the biggest one. They accommodate you so much just to make you feel welcome and safe in your own skin. It was one of the few places that you could take the suit off and feel comfortable.
The suit was just being zipped up into your bag when the door to the doctor’s office opened. Dr. Beta was a matronly middle aged woman with plenty of laugh lines and crow's feet from years of laughter and joy. She was a kind beta who had done wonders for your mental health and self esteem. Without her, you probably wouldn’t have gone through with the job proposal.
She called your name with a gentle smile, “You ready?”
“Yep,” you smiled, walking over to step into the room. The blinds were closed tight but there were several lamps around the space that allowed a soft light to keep it illuminated. The wooden diffuser was pumping out the soothing smell of lemon and sandalwood. Dr. Beta had always said the lemon helped cut the potency of your powers but you weren’t sure if that was true or if it was something she said to make you feel better.
The two of you settled into your usual spots before the doctor asks, “Anything new since we last saw each other?”
It had been a month since your last session. The milestone of going monthly instead of bi-monthly had been huge for you. There was a time that you saw her weekly, which was when you were at your lowest. You were glad to be where you were.
“Where do I even start?” you laugh, leaning casually back on the leather couch. The cold material felt nice on the bare skin that peeked out from your denim shorts and athletic tank top. “I’ve been meeting regularly with three guys to run with them every Tuesday and Thursday. We also go out for drinks and the game on Sunday.”
“Wow, that’s fantastic!” she gushed, genuinely excited for you. She even sat her clipboard and pen down to lean forward with her elbows on her knees. It was something she only did when you made some kind of...positive choice in your life. The way it made your chest swell with self pride was silly and kind of childish but the woman had always been extra motherly to you. “Clients?”
“One of them was,” you nod, trying to keep the flush of excitement from making you seem too eager. “They’re really nice guys and they invited me to start sparring with them next week after our runs.”
A gentle look crossed the doctor’s face that had you melting. It was a look that she gave when she was proud and the way your name came out of her mouth spoke volumes. “I’m so proud of you,” she said aloud even though you knew it by her body language. “It’s been a long time since you took time for yourself in your personal life. Are they on your level of martial arts?”
“Better!” you said, excited to have a good challenge.
“Better than you?” she laughed, sounding incredulous. “I’d have to see that to believe it!” You join her for the laugh. “Anything else?”
Your mind flutters to a certain blond and his proposition but decide to keep that to yourself for now. It wasn’t good for you to hide secrets from Dr. Beta and you usually didn’t, however, she would definitely encourage you to take him up on the offer. You didn’t think you were ready to come up with reasons (lies) for why you couldn’t do that yet.
“Not really.”
She nods, grabbing her clipboard to flip the paper. “Dr. Noland said you were going to get your heat early this time around. She said you mentioned you might know why?”
Damn it. You forgot how much the two doctors communicated between each other about your health. It was the program you were in and, while amazingly helpful, could be very annoying at times. Case in point, now you need to make a choice on whether to point blank lie to Dr. Beta or just tell the truth. Lying by omission was much more your style.
“Yeah,” you sigh, resigning yourself to the conversation. “The last client I helped had...intense pheromones. I think it may have kicked me into my heat cycle early.”
The doctor’s hazel eyes widened in shock, “Even with the suppressant you took?”
Nodding, you look away for a second. “The client was a super soldier,” you admit, running a hand through your hair in frustration.
Understanding blossomed on her face when she made a guess as to who you were talking about. “Well, that might do it, for sure,” she nodded, making a note. “Still, I’m going to have Dr. Noland change your suppressant just in case it’s not working.”
She stood up, going over to the cabinet behind her desk. She took out a large bottle, tossing it to you, that had heat vitamins in them. Another bottle was thrown your way full of pills specifically for healthy slick production. The last thing she came over with were a few vouchers for omega-centric energy drinks and heat-snacks.
“I know you hate this question but I am legally required to ask,” she chuckles. “Do you have someone you trust to help you through your heat?”
You hesitate. “No.”
Her head snaps up, hazel eyes pinning you to the spot. “You hesitated. You never hesitate,” she points out with far too much excitement. She sets the clipboard down, doing the lean again. “Do you have someone in mind?”
Well, the cat was out of the bag and now you couldn’t lie because she would never believe you now. “I was...propositioned,” you admit, feeling stupidly relieved that you had been honest with her. She had conditioned you so fucking well to feel better when you told the truth as opposed to lying. It had been a ‘bad coping mechanism’ you created during your childhood to gain some control of your otherwise uncontrollable life.
“By one of your new friends?” she asked, already getting the gist of the conversation. “Was it your client?”
“No, not my client but his...best friend,” you whisper, feeling a little embarrassed that you were having this conversation.
Dr. Beta is quiet for a moment, contemplating how to ask the question. “What’s the big deal then? Why not take him up on the offer?”
You cringe. “There are…a lot of reasons but I’m sure you’re going to make them seem like they’re not problems but things I’ve blown up in my mind.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “You know your feelings and worries are valid! I just help you see things in a more logical light. I think you should really talk this through with him but...would you like to practice with me?”
You bite your lower lip but give a heavy sigh when you realize there’s still nearly forty minutes left of your time with her. “Fine. It can’t hurt.”
Tumblr media
You sat in the booth twitching with your napkin. You and the owner were good friends from back in your academy days so he allowed you to pay a certain amount for the whole rooftop terrace. It meant you could enjoy a meal with someone without having to wear your suit. You also got the same female server every time who knew your situation and didn’t care.
“Hey, sorry I’m late,” you heard a familiar voice say to your left.
Not really sure why, you stood up when he approached. He was wearing a thin blue zip-up jacket over a blue and white plaid button up shirt that was unbuttoned enough for you to see the white t-shirt he had under it. His jeans were dark and fit far too well around his massive thighs. A plain blue ball cap sat on his head and some fake glasses to help hide his identity. The smile he gave you was enough to make your preheat brain purr.
It took you by surprise when his big arms wrapped you up in a hug that smothered you in his masculine scent. Your hands touched his back, hugging him hesitantly. The squeeze lasted a little longer than you expected, just enough for your head to be perfectly swimming in his pheromones.
You pulled away when he did, allowing him to sit at the far side of the table, facing towards the rest of the area. He had insisted that you come without your suit so it was the least you could do to keep the waitress from noticing his erection.
“It’s okay, I ordered some water for us,” you smile, genuinely happy to see him. It wasn’t often that you saw any of the three men individually. They usually hung out in a pack and you were happy to know that you fit into the group pretty well. “Get whatever you want, Steve. It’s my treat.”
He gave you a look. “I would prefer it if you let me pay.”
Your heart gave a hard thump in your chest. There was something about the way he said it that was just short of a command. You look into his blue eyes, trying to gauge his intent before setting down the menu. “Is this some old-fashioned pride I see leaking through?” you tease, giving him a mischievous grin.
“No, I just figure it was only right that I buy you lunch before helping you with your heat,” he said so casually it made your face heat.
“What makes you think I’m going to agree?!” you laugh loudly.
There is a knowing glint in his eyes that makes your stomach flip. “Isn’t that why we’re here? Alone?” he questioned easily, looking up just as Julia came to the table.
“Welcome back,” she greets you, setting two empty glasses and a pitcher of water down on the table. “My name’s Julia.”
“Nice to meet you Julia,” Steve responded with a neutral smile. It caught you a little off guard because it...definitely wasn’t the smile he gave you. Was it just part of his disguise?
You both ordered a beer and your entrees. It wasn’t until Julia walked away that you focused back on the alpha across from you. He was already looking at you with an intense expression. You feel like he’s basically prying into your soul.
“I...spoke with my therapist yesterday and…” you start, finding it very hard to talk about this kind of thing. It was so easy to soothe your clients but so hard to give yourself a break. “She...convinced me to talk with you about my...worries.”
His expression softens a bit. “I’m willing to work with you,” he soothes, reaching out to take your hand. His fingers curled around yours, warm and solid. “Tell me everything.”
You take a deep breath. “I’m not afraid of hurting you,” you blurt out. “You can take me even on your worst day. I’m...embarrassed to count myself among the small population of omegas that go...feral during their heat. I...fight my partner. Dr. Beta says it's because of the trauma I experienced. Trauma doesn't just disappear during heat...it gets worse. I’m just not the usual kind of docile omega that society seems to exemplify.”
He looks up to alert you that Julia was returning with your drinks. He didn’t speak until she was back inside the building. “Truthfully, I’m actually more intrigued than put off by the notion,” he finally said after taking a sip of his beer. “Do you fight the whole time or just in the beginning?”
It wasn’t a line of questioning that you expected so you gaped at him like a fish out of water for a few seconds before finding your words. “I don’t...know,” you admit sheepishly, sipping your hard cider. “I’ve only been with one alpha during my heat and he had to go to the hospital a few hours into it.”
Something dark and tempting flashed through the blond’s eyes. “How do you feel about restraints?”
Your core throbbed at the simple question. It probably showed on your face because his smile started to widen in understanding. “Yes, that’s fine,” you breathe, trying not to think too hard about the implications.
“Would you prefer to do this at your house or in my suite?” he asked as if you had already agreed to the whole thing.
Your mind screamed at you to say decline. It was dangerous and there were so many things that could go wrong. Your omega brain though had already bought into the whole thing. You wanted this big, powerful alpha to hold you down and take you in the most forceful of ways. You wanted him to restrain you to your nest and have his way with you until the heat fog cleared.
“Wait, wait,” you say, trying to finish your thoughts before deciding anything. “I’m serious when I say I’m insatiable. I don’t have any refractory period between one wave and the next.”
Julia opens the door, alerting you both that she was coming out with food. You both wait until everything is set and she walks away before continuing. The food smells delicious so you grab the burger and bite into it. You always craved red meat before your heat so when the flavors burst across your taste buds, you hum in appreciation.
Steve took a few bites of his own meal before responding. “The super soldier serum makes it so I don’t have any refractory period,” he shrugs casually with a smile. “I’ve never met someone who could keep up with me so...I’m interested to see if you can. Any other worries?”
Heat blossoms across your cheek and in your chest. “I don’t want our friendship to be jeopardized,” you finally admit after finishing half of your burger. You grab some of the fries and eat them while thinking.
“Did helping Bucky keep you from being friends with him?”
“No, of course not,” you sigh, running out of excuses. Dr. Beta had been right, talking with him had definitely made you a little more comfortable with the idea. “Fine, okay, I accept your offer.”
“My place or yours?” he asks with a genuine smile.
You mull over the question for a bit before shrugging. “I have all of my nesting supplies at my house so we can do it at mine,” you chuckle, feeling a little nervous but excited too.
He nods. “Do I need to bring any supplies? Snacks or drinks?”
The two of you continue talking about the logistics of your heat while you finish the food. It makes you feel a lot better knowing you wouldn’t have to go through with it alone. You had already taken the initiative to send a message to all of your clients to let them know you would be out for your heat. You even went ahead and took an extra week just for yourself.
After you pay and you have your layers back on, the two of you stand outside the doors to the restaurant. You don’t want to leave him, truthfully. He smelt so good and you were so close to your heat that it was hard to separate from him. “Thanks for talking with me,” you smile despite the bonnet covering everything but your eyes. “I’ll give you a text when I’m ready.”
“Of course, thanks for lunch,” he chuckles, leaning down to kiss your forehead through the layers. “Here, take this for your nest.”
He shucked his jacket and offered it. Your hand reaches out to take it slowly. “Thanks but this might just push me into it faster,” you laugh brightly, holding the large jacket close to your chest. You could smell the scent of him even through all of your layers. It made your head foggy.
“That’s the idea,” he smirked, turning towards the tower with a wave. “Just let me know when you want me to come over.”
You watch him walk away, eyes lingering on the way his biceps stretched the fabric of his shirt and down until you stared at his toned ass in those jeans. It was obvious how close you were to your heat when sweat started to form along your temples and slick started to dampen your panties.
Once you got back home, you arranged your snacks and vitamins on the counter so they were easy for Steve to find. He might need to feed you for the first few waves because you weren’t sure if you’d be coherent or not. Then you went into your extra bedroom that you used for your heats and started getting it ready.
You pulled out all of your slick-resistant pillows, cushions and blankets from the closet to make a nest on your king sized bed. It was a nice four post bed that had your mind in dark places. All you could think about was being restrained with cuffs around one of those posts while Steve fucked into you.
It didn’t take long before you needed a pad for all of the fucking slick that was making everything so annoying. The nest took a lot longer that you would like to admit because it just didn’t seem...right. You’d never had this kind of issue before but your omega brain wanted Steve to be comfortable and happy too.
Looking back at the closet, you debated on whether or not you wanted to pull out the box of toys. You weren’t sure if Steve would want them or need them or…
“Fuck it,” you mutter, grabbing your phone to send the alpha a quick text. Toys or no toys?
You were adding his jacket to your nest when your phone vibrated in your pocket. Instead of the one or two word answer that you expected, it was...something else.
Definitely toys. I’ll enjoy teasing you until you’re begging for my knot.
Fuckin’ hell! Was this the same blond with the surprisingly boyish face that you had met during lunch today? The same guy that Sam teased about being an old virgin?
You didn’t think the pad was going to hold up to all of the slick that gush from you at the text. How does one respond to a text like that? You grabbed out the delicate pink box out of the closet, wincing at the color because it was the only color that the shop had to store your toys. Omegas were feminine right?! They liked pink, right?!
Laughing at yourself, you set the box on the little table in the room. You opened the lid and set it to the side so you could look at your assortment of toys. It was a collection you started when your first heat hit you at sixteen. You had been a late bloomer because of your constant martial arts training, which stilted your omega hormones.
It had all the necessities and even some extras. You had your typical knot dildo, a vibrator, a clit vibe, a few different types of condoms for when you weren’t in your heat, a bottle of lube that encouraged slick production, a bottle of regular lube, and a few different sized anal plugs. The last few were just because you enjoyed the feeling of being full when having sex.
Quickly you took a picture of the box and sent it to Steve as a reply. It was the best you could come up with. You had never really been good at those kinds of things. Well, you’d never had someone try and sext you.
Happy that everything was prepared, you cuddled under your fuzzy blanket in your nest. Comfort flooded through you as you nuzzled into the man’s jacket, deeply taking in his scent. It was nice and musky and made you feel warm and safe.
The phone buzzed. You’re okay with anal during your heat?
Your pheromone idled brain made you giggle, “Consent is important,” before you could text him back. Yes, I like being stuffed full.
It didn’t even register how inappropriate the text sounded before you hit send. You were obviously a lot further along than you had previously thought. The subtle throb of your core was starting to get worse but you weren’t too far gone to see his last text.
Good to know. Get some rest. Need me to come out and check on you before dark?
You groaned as a cramp hit your pelvis, slick becoming an issue. It simultaneously hurt and felt good. You were so distracted that you couldn’t answer the text message. Everything was suddenly too hot so you threw off your clothing, slipping your hand down to brush against your clit. It was already so sensitive it hurt but you needed relief.
It wasn’t enough and you knew that it would be futile to try and get yourself off with just your fingers but your brain wasn’t working. You groaned helplessly as the lackluster orgasm washed over you. It wasn’t enough, so frustratingly not enough. Sweat dripped down your cheek from your hairline making you kick off the blanket so you could turn over.
You didn’t care how it looked with your ass up because the scent of Steve on the jacket helped clear your head a little. It made your core throb but it also helped you become coherent. Enough so that you grabbed the phone and typed in a one word response that only said:
Now.
Tumblr media
Credits for the pictures in Moodboard:
Unsplash photographers:
1. Kelly Sikkema
2. Vulkan Olmez
3. Toa Heftiba
Like, comment and reblogs are always welcome! Thanks for reading!
126 notes · View notes
sydnee-kom-spacekru · 3 years
Text
Cosmically Connected (Spencer Reid x Reader Fluff)
Disclaimer: The first part of this one-shot is a rewrite of @reidsnose one shot, Cosmically Connected. This is in no way meant to steal credit from them, or steal their work. This is merely a rewrite and extension. I have permission to rewrite this.
Summary: Reid doesn't believe in soul mates, and you convince him. After, you go and watch movies and he reads to you, and things are said.
Warnings: FLUFF, slight language, makes me want to scream just starting to write it, etc. Nothing bad.
A/n: Idk if Reid has watched Harry Potter. So let's just say he hasn't. This is set in season 5. F/c stands for favorite color.
Requested: No. Well, by me but that's it.
Tumblr media
The BAU was had an unusually slow day. Paperwork and jokes were all that went on.
It was just you, Garcia, and Reid left. Even though it was only six in the evening.
You were coming back from the restroom when you heard a loud bang! You panicked, and rushed to the cubicles, getting ready to pull out your gun.
After you realized that nothing was wrong, you noticed that Garcia was the source of the loud noise. She had slammed her hands down on Reid's desk.
You sighed out of relief, "What the hell?" It was part relief, part anger at them for causing you such grief.
Garcia stood straight up, pointing at Reid, who looked amused. "Him." Was all she said.
"Uhm," You breathed out a laugh. "You'll have to fill me in." You were smiling, you adored the people in front of you.
"He, he doesn't believe in soulmates, Y/n. Soulmates! What kind of person..." She trailed off, sitting down in your chair.
Spencer just shrugged, smiling. "I am a man of science, Garcia! And science says no."
You hummed, and he turned towards you, "What's that supposed to mean?" His voice got higher as he went on.
"Because," you said, leaning against his desk. ""Science Man", science says "yes"."
"Oh! Y/n told me about this last Tuesday!" She turned towards you. "You remember, I said you sounded just like boy genius over here." She giggled and waved you on.
You nodded and stood up, stealing Reid's glasses, putting them on. Reid just smiled at you, laughing making you snort.
"Now tell me!" He said impatiently.
"I am, calm down!" You cleared your throat. "So, you know when the big bang or whatever caused the creation of the universe, there were all sorts of molecules and space dust that was together at one point, broke apart. I'm accurate so far, yes Mr. Science Man?" You smirked.
"It's Doctor. And, yes?" He glanced to the sides.
You snickered, then continued. "The whole universe is made of such particles?"
"You're correct."
"And humans are made of previously mentioned space dust?"
"Yeah, that's right." He said cautiously.
"So two people could be made of the sae space dust that was once whole?" He sputtered, you smiled. You knew you had him.
"Y-yeah, I guess that could happen."
"In such a case, these two space dust beings are cosmically connected. They are bound together from the beginning by the beginning." You watched as he slowly became more impressed. "These two souls are connected. In other words;" You paused, wiggling your fingers and underlining the imaginary word, "soulmates!"
You sat back, satisfied with the effect that the words had on him. You knew his brain was racing, you could tell. You watched him as he worked this in his brain. You loved to just watch him think, to exist, every little thing he did brought a blush to your face. Never in your life had you met a person quite like Doctor Spencer Reid. It was quite embarrassing, actually. To have such a ginormous crush on one of your co-workers.
But, you shook off your euphoria, you were convinced he didn't feel the same way. As long as you could be his friend, you were content enough, for now.
He kept opening and closing his mouth, trying to think of something to say. He felt as if you had electrocuted him, but in a good way. A refreshing way. "I-, I can't believe it, Y/n."
"Ha! You did it, Y/n! You proved our very own resident genius wrong!" She smiled an award winning smile, flashing all of her teeth at you.
"So," You grinned at him. "Wha'd'ya say, Brainiac? Convinced yet?"
"Well, Y/n, science is science. Soulmates are true." He cracked a goofy smile.
But what you didn't know is that it wasn't your lecture that convinced him. It was the fact that he believed that he had found his soulmate, right then and there. It was you.
Spencer realized as you were telling him, the way you looked at him, with complete adoration, he thought he was going to melt. He felt his heart rate speed up as he thought about the last couple of weeks, how you were there for him when he needed someone most. How he loved to be around you, how he longed to be. How he felt warm inside when you were around, how he loved every little thing about you. He was then hit with a sudden realization. He loved you.
"Yes!" You practically screamed, snapping him out of his thoughts. He realized that it had only been two seconds, two seconds of him thinking of everything about you.
You jumped off of his desk, and hugged Garcia, who had stood up. You pulled back, now you were both chanting "Science says soulmates! Science says soulmates!" You sat down, and Garcia pushed you in your chair around the office.
Garcia pushed you down the hallway, the sound of you guys' laughter fading off.
Morgan came into the office, slapping Reid on the back, laughing. "When are you going to tell her?"
"I don't know, probably never. Maybe not even then." Reid shrugged. Then, desperate to change the subject, he quickly said, "By the way, what are you doing here, Morgan?"
"No no no, Man! Don't change the subject. Why not?"
Reid turned red, "She isn't into me like that, Morgan. You've seen the guys she's gone out with." He scoffed.
Morgan sat down, getting serious. "Come on, Reid. You're a profiler, you have to know she's into you." Spencer just shrugged, but enjoyed the idea of you liking him back.
Morgan just hung his head, laughing. He stood up. "I can't wait to tell you I told you so."
"Then you'll be waiting for a long time."
"Ah! But not forever, Pretty Boy. Not forever!" He laughed as he walked out.
Reid laughed, but a small smile tugged at his lips at the idea of a relationship with you.
--
"Damn it." You sighed in resignation at your phone. You were getting ready to leave, to head to a friends house. Have a Harry Potter Marathon, watch all of them consecutively. You baked 200 cookies, literally.
And they just cancelled on you. You spun in your chair, you were disappointed to say the least. You've had this planned for a month.
Reid walked up behind you, peering over your shoulder. "What's the matter?"
You sighed, leaning your head back and looking at him. "It's nothing, my friend just cancelled on me. She's sick." He pursed his lips, "Oh, I'm sorry Y/n." You shrugged.
"Can I do anything for you?" He sat down in his desk, which was in front of yours, facing you. You guys only had laptops, so it was easy to see over them.
You thought as you packed your stuff. You both headed to the door, it was dark even though it was only seven. It was November. "I guess you could come over and help me eat all of the cookies I made. And you could have a Harry Potter marathon with me." You grinned, looking up at him.
"Okay," he paused. "How many movies are there?" You stopped as you came to your car.
"Have you never seen or read Harry Potter?"
"No, it didn't interest me." You raised your eyebrows.
"Okay, then we'll start the books tonight." You stated, and opened the passenger seat for him.
--
The ride to your apartment was quiet, The Arctic Monkeys played softly in the background. It started to sprinkle. You were nearly home, maybe five minutes.
"Hey Spencer?" You started.
"Hmm?" He turned to face away from the window and look at you.
"Do you really believe in soulmates now?" You shifted in the driver seat, glancing over at him.
He didn't hesitate to answer, "Yes." His breathing had sped up. "Uhm, Actually," You came to a stop at the red light, and turned up the heat, it was cold. "I think that I've met mine." He barely blinked as he waited for your reaction.
Your heart sunk, but you recovered. Quickly telling yourself it was never going to happen anyways. "Really?" You voice sounded unnatural, but you didn't know how to fix it. "Who is it?"
He hesitated. "I'm not sure I want to tell anyone just yet."
You swallowed, and resumed driving after a car behind you honked at you.
You waved at them as they passed you by, mouthing "Sorry."
--
You pulled into the parking garage, taking out an umbrella from the trunk. You could hear the rain beating down on the floors above you. Spencer got out of the car, coming up beside you and putting his hand on your shoulder, making you shiver. "I'm sorry, I didn't bring an umbrella." He shouted over the thunder, but at the lat second it ended, and his voice echoed throughout the garage. A mother holding her baby glared at him, and he whispered sorry. After she was gone, you both burst out laughing.
"That's alright," you said as soon as you calmed down. "We can share. But you have to hold it, my arm would get tired." You smiled at him, handing him the umbrella. He unravelled it, and it had a hole in it. Right in the center.
"Oh no." You said, dragging out the 'o', groaning. "It's too big, it wouldn't cover us up anyways. I hope you have extra clothes." You chuckled.
"Wait," He shrugged off the trench coat he was wearing, and held it over both of you. "There we go." He sounded proud of himself. You just giggled at him, and held yours and his things close to you.
You ran across the street, trying to keep up with Reid.
--
You flopped down on your couch, Reid stood there awkwardly with the sopping coat. "Shoot! Sorry, here give it to me." You stood up and reached for it, and went to put it into the washer.
"It should be done pretty quick," you hollered from the laundry room, "my washer and dryer-" You turned around, then yelled. Reid was standing right there.
"Jesus! Spencer you scared the living hell out of me!" You smacked his chest.
"Sorry, I heard you talking and I came back here..." He backed up to let you by.
You sighed, laughing and turning on the heat. It was freezing in your apartment. "Come on, I have literally over two hundred cookies in my kitchen, and I have the first book in my room." You point out the kitchen, and tell him to grab the cookies.
You went to your room, looking through your book shelves for the first book. "Ah-ha!" You whisper shouted to yourself, you had found the Sorcerer's Stone. You grabbed it off the shelf, and went back down the hallway.
"Hey, Spence! I found..." You trailed off as you found Spencer on the floor in your living room, with a large plate piled high of the different kinds of cookies you made. He was watching some random movie that was on. You just set the book down on the table, and sat down next to him, taking a cookie off the plate. He smiled close lipped at you, "These cookies are so good, Y/n." He looked adorable, he was so happy. You couldn't help but look at him for a little while, he kept laughing at random parts in the movie.
About an hour and forty-six (Spencer counted) cookies later, the movie was over. "I need to go shopping, so I don't have very much food in here besides leftovers." You said, opening the fridge. It was nearly empty, day-old Chinese, a small bottle of orange juice, and just a smidge of cookie dough. "Do you wanna order some pizza?"
You heard Spencer get up and enter the kitchen. "Do what? I heard you say that you had leftovers, but not the second part."
You turned around. "I asked," you paused, turning around and closing the fridge. "If you wanted to order pizza. Or I could just drop you off at your apartment." You added the last part quickly, not thinking about it until the last second. You walked back to the living room, sitting down sideways on the loveseat, your feet up on the second cushion. He came and picked up your feet, sat down, and put them back on his lap.
"We can order pizza, what kind do you want?" He asked you. You shrugged.
"How about we just get hot wings." You suggested.
"Okay."
--
"Oh my God, my mouth is on fire." You laughed. "We shouldn't have gotten the ghost pepper flavour."
Spencer was whining, waving his hands in front of his mouth. You burst out laughing, he glared at you but he was smiling. "Hey! This isn't funny."
You groaned, drinking some water. "Shit. That didn't help." You whined, sticking out your tongue. Spencer had gone to your kitchen, you didn't notice.
"I found Orange Juice. Can I have some?" He asked, faking desperation. It was a cheep little bottle, one you get from the dollar store.
"Yeah, just don't drink it all." He took a long drink, and handed it to you. He sighed in relief.
"It's better. Did you know, the reason the orange juice helps is because of the..." You weren't listening. You weren't trying to be rude, but you were just focused on the orange juice. You finished the small bottle and set it down on the table next to the empty container that smelled spicy. You laid down on the loveseat, closing your eyes for a second. It was only ten, but you were unusually sleepy.
"...Neat, right?" You just nodded. You were sleepy, and you still wanted to read with Spencer.
"Y/n? Are you tired?" He sat down in the space between the coffee table and the loveseat, and you felt his put his hand on your cheek, rubbing over your cheekbone with his thumb. You opened your eyes, a sleepy smile on your face.
"I have to take you home." You said, but made no move to get up.
"Hey, shh." He brushed your hair out of your face, causing you to turn red. "I can sleep on the couch here tonight."
You sighed contently, "You should come read Harry Potter to me." You whispered. You were in a daze, half asleep and unsure if this was real or not.
"Okay." Reid whispered, and waited a few seconds. When you didn't move, he reached under your head, and your legs. Then picked you up.
You woke with the sudden movement, "Sorry, you can put me down now." He set you down in the hallway, and you stumbled to your room. You pulled back the f/c blanket, and laid down. You patted the spot next to you, and he climbed in next to you.
You scooted closer to him, snuggling into his side. "Can you read to me please?" He nodded, not that you could see, but started reading.
""Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of Number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say they were perfectly normal, thank you very much."" He started playing with your hair mindlessly, lulling you to sleep even faster.
"Spence." You looked up at him, your eyes were droopy. He raised his eyebrows, asking you what was wrong. "Can you sleep in here, please?"
"Yeah, I will." He said gently. You nodded, and laid back down. You barely heard the rest of the first paragraph.
You were running through a hallway. The lights flashing. Someone was chasing you, screaming things at you. But you couldn't hear, it was like the words were blurred. You glanced back, he was right behind you. You tried to run faster, but when you turned back around, there was blood spattered everywhere. It made you stumble. The unsub caught up with you, tackling you to the floor. He grabbed onto your neck, and bashed your head into the ground-
You woke up with a jolt, terrified, in a cold sweat. You grabbed onto Spencer in pure reflex, waking him up. He sat up quickly, reaching over to turn the light on. It let off a soft light, and you saw the book on your bedside table with a bookmark in near the end.
"What's wrong?" He cupped your face in his hands, brushing your hair out of your face.
Your breathing was shallow, and your heart was racing. You were having a minor panic attack. "Spence," You breathed out, it was like you couldn't stop moving, you had to convince yourself you were safe. "I can't- I can't- I can't breathe." You were sweating, horrified that the unsub was going to find you.
He held you close, trying to soothe you. "I need you to breathe with me, Y/n." Your chest was heaving, you struggled to get your breathing under control. You nodded, and tried to breathe with him as he showed you to breathe in and out. You were tugging at the bottom of your shirt, until Spencer grabbed your hands in his and started covering them.
"You'll be alright," he whispered, pulling you close again. You had calmed down, now silent tears were falling down your face. You were just trying to listen to the sound of his heart beating.
"Do you want to talk about it? Talking about your feelings actually have positive effects. Talking leads to Catharsis, which is the feeling of relief." He toys with your hair while you tell him about the nightmare. "I'm so sorry."
He pulled away from you, looking at you. "I just want you to know, I will never let that happen to you." You pulled him back to you, you probably looked like a mess. "What time is it?"
"It's one in the morning."
"Can we go back to sleep, please?" He nodded, and lay back, taking you with him. You sniffed. "Can you read, please?" He reached over to grab the book, and resumed reading.
"I'm on the last page, I hope you don't mind that I read ahead."
"Of course not, I'm surprised you didn't finish the entire series."
He laughed a little, then five minutes later, ""...I'm going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer. . ."" You sighed, you were calm now. Still shook up from the nightmare, but calm.
"Do you have the nightmares often?" He whispered to you, tracing circles on your back.
"Yeah, almost every night." Your eyes were closed, and you were close to sleep. He lifted his head up, hesitated and laid back down.
Another ten minutes went by, you were nearly asleep when you heard Spencer say something. "You're my space dust." He sounded groggy, and you had convinced yourself he was sleep talking. But you still hoped.
--
You woke up to your alarm at seven-thirty. You were laying on top of Spencer, between his legs. "Sorry. Do you want me to drive you home so you can change?"
"How about we call in sick, it's just paperwork today." He sounded tired.
"Okay, I'll text Hotch." Though neither of you made a move to actually text him for another hour. When you did, he just smiled at his phone. The entire team had suspicions about the two of you, although you had never acted on it.
After, you both just laid there together, until you remembered what you thought you heard last night.
"Spencer?" You asked hesitantly.
"What's up, Y/n?" You were laying next to him, head on his chest. His arms were wrapped around you, which is weird. Because he's generally not very touchy.
"I think you said something last night. But I'm not sure that I heard you correctly..." You were timid, and you felt him tense up.
"W-what do you think y-you heard?" He stopped moving completely now, but you were very fidgety.
"I don't want this to ruin our friendship, but I thought I heard you say that I was your space dust. D-did you say that? Do you mean that- that..." You rambled on, just until Spencer interrupted you.
"Y/n." You stopped talking, and you both sat up. "I mean it like that." You sucked in a breath.
"I need to hear it." Your voice was shaky, and your throat was burning. But you didn't want to cry, you couldn't cry in front of him again.
He grabbed your hands in his, took a deep breath, and "Y/n, I-I love you." You couldn't help it, you pulled him to, and pressed your lips to his. It was like fireworks had gone off.
Your stomach was turning, Spencer had one hand on the back of your neck, and the other was holding one of yours. You had never kissed anyone and felt something deep inside you like this.
You pulled away from him, smiling. "You're my space dust too, Spence." And you gave him one last kiss before getting up and going to make breakfast
AHHHH IT'S FINISHED lmk if you like it
98 notes · View notes
neo-culture-taste · 3 years
Text
Abeilles au Printemps - Ch 9
Alternate Title: Bees in Spring  
Genre: AU, romance, drama, comedy, smut, who’s the daddy
Pairing: NCT x Y/N (fem)
Rating: Mostly mature themes/ language. Smutty chapters will be labeled 🐝.
Word Count: 11500+
For other chapters, see the masterlist.
OMFG. I can’t believe it has been an entire year since we posted the last chapter. 2020 was truly a mess, lmao. We’re SO sorry we made you wait that long! We had everything written and then we started adding and changing stuff to the point where we had to rewrite the entire thing. But it’s here now! And you’re in for a WILD ride. - D
Tumblr media
“So is this how the rich and famous live?” commented Yuta as he drove down the wide street, passing various mansions in the neighborhood. “I bet there's a pool in every backyard and everyone owns their own boat.”
“Probably,” you responded weakly. You were too busy trying to pull the skin off from the sides of your fingers. A nasty habit you had since you were younger, which only manifested when you were extremely anxious. You had no reason to be stressed, right? Jaehyun would explain everything and everything would be fine, wouldn’t it?
You motioned for Yuta to make a right at the stop sign. “Are we leaving the neighborhood?” he asked you.
“No, not really,” you answered, forcing yourself to put your hands at your sides so you wouldn't pick at them anymore. “He just owns more land than his neighbors. He likes his privacy.”
“I completely understand. That’s how I would be if I had all this money. I’d even have my own little pond of ducks,” he joked. “They’d be free to walk the grounds and they’d just add to the beautiful and serene scenery that I would curate for my land.”
You rolled your eyes at Yuta before sitting up straighter in your seat. “Speaking of ducks, drive slowly and don’t run over Quackers and Mr. Bill.” Right as you said that, two ducks waddled in front of Yuta’s car, making their way through the iron gates to their pond on the other side. 
“He actually has ducks?!”
“Per my request, yes. Our evening walks at the park during the early part of my pregnancy also consisted of feeding the ducks. I enjoyed it so much I joked about him making a pond and having ducks of his own.”
“And so he dug a hole in his yard and purchased you two feathered creatures?!”
You slouched back into your seat. “Five, actually. The other three should be around here somewhere. They came with the ring, the beautiful nursery, and the wall he tore down for my walk in closet.”
Yuta almost slammed on his breaks in shock. “The wall he--Woah, wait he already built you a nursery?”
Sighing heavily, you turned your head to look forlornly at the swaying motion of Mr. Bill's feathery butt as he walked into the distance. “Yeah…”
“And now you want to barge in this man’s house and accuse him of what exactly?” he asked as he pulled to a smooth stop right outside the Jung estate gate. “You said you’d explain on the way, but you haven’t breathed a single word.”
Well, you were confronting Jaehyun about Mark being arrested for a car that supposedly belonged to Jaehyun and not his cousin Taeil being reported stolen, secret photos following the every move of you and your male friends since earlier that day, and the relationship between those photographs and those of Kun cheating while overseas. There was no way you could explain any of that to Yuta in the short amount of time you had between now and seeing Jaehyun.
“It’s complicated,” was all you told him.
“Tch. Complicated,” Yuta clicked his tongue. “You have a giant envelope of evidence you’ve been trying to hide from view since I picked you up. I’m a lawyer, too, remember?” 
“Yuta, please.”
“Let me be a voice of reason before you do something you’ll regret." Yuta rested his chin in his palm as he propped his elbow onto his armrest. "You just became his fiancée only what? A week ago?  There’s probably a logical explanation--”
“Thanks for the concern Yuta, but I have to do this if I want to stay engaged.”
Yuta ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath, and he drummed his fingers of his other hand on the steering wheel while he thought. “I won’t say anything more. But just promise me you’ll be careful. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t hesitate to do." 
Ha! You couldn't hold back the chuckle that escaped you. You leaned over to kiss Yuta on the cheek and gave him a somewhat reassuring smile. “This just might be the day that I do.”
His brows furrowed. “Should I call the cops?” he responded with evident concern in his voice.
You rolled your eyes and proceeded to fish for Jaehyun’s electronic gate key out of your pants pocket. But then...your attention quickly turned to the large iron gate slowly opening on its own. 
“I thought this was supposed to be a surprise mission?” Yuta lifted himself away from the armrest and took his foot off the break, then proceeded to pull through the gate towards the front of the mansion. 
“It is. I didn’t call beforehand. He is obviously watching us on the monitor in his kitchen. Fucking creep.”
“Y/N! That’s your fiancé you’re talking about!”
You shook your head. “He has to be guilty of something since he’s not coming outside to greet me.”
“Right...” Yuta pulled into the circular driveway in front of the mansion and put the car in park. There was only one other car in the circular driveway and you recognized it to be the same make and model of Jeno’s car. He must have driven straight there after dropping Mark off at your place. No telling what conversations were being had within those walls. You imagined how lucky Mark had been to have Jeno in the right place at the right time after he was pulled over by the police. Was it a coincidence or was it on purpose? 
Theories continued to fill your head as your eyes shifted, and they ultimately landed on Jeno’s license plate. “That’s…” You rummaged through your envelope and pulled out the photo of Kun and examined the sticky note attached to it. Doyoung’s scribbles matched the license plate in front of you. “Oh my--“
“Woah, who’s the hot chick with Kun?” Blurted Yuta as he snatched the photo out of your trembling hands. 
“Give it back, Yuta!” You screeched in desperation. You tried to grab it from him but he pulled it out of your reach and batted your hands away.
“Where is he, at a resort?” You tried to grab it once more but he swatted you away again. “Why is Yangyang taking photos of this no name?” 
"Yuta!" And he blocked you again. 
“Why does this sticky note say ‘you don’t know who else he’s watching?'” 
"Please!" And again. 
“With a license plate number that matches the car in front--” You finally succeeded in snatching the photo from his grip and put it back inside the envelope, then let out a heavy breath, thankful that Yuta had only seen the picture of Kun and not the one with him and his son at the ER. “Y/N you need to tell me what’s going on,” Yuta demanded. “I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but I’m starting to get an idea of what’s happening and I really hope I'm wrong.” You started to ask about his assumptions but decided not to, because you were too afraid to get confirmation for your own thoughts. “But if I’m not,” Yuta continued, “do you want me to come in with you? I won’t say anything, but I’ll be there to support you in this apparent kerfuffle you’re about to have with Jaehyun.” And fight him if he had to. Yuta didn’t care how much Jaehyun's face was worth if he ended up hurting you in any way.
You took a deep breath and shook your head. “No. I have to do this alone. But you can help this pregnant lady out of your car.”
“Suit yourself.” Yuta got out and went around to help you out of his car and straighten you onto your feet. 
“Please just stay here. If I’m not out in exactly twenty minutes come and get me?”
“You’re asking me?” No, you weren’t. The inflection at the end of your sentence was because you had just realized how unprepared you were to confront Jaehyun. You were still in your pajamas for crying out loud. All the tension had built up on the way there, and all the questions you had for him began to mix with your feelings for him. You weren’t exactly sure how you were going to pull this off without breaking down.
“No. I’m telling you,” you corrected Yuta.
“Understood.”
Yuta helped you walk up the front steps before turning around and walking back to his car. You tugged on the doorknob and, like you figured, it was unlocked. You slowly opened the door and shut it behind you. The chilly air of the beautifully decorated foyer ran down your spine and left behind a trail of prickly ice crystals. It was eerily quiet. You took a left towards the kitchen and ran your hands across the granite countertop. The same countertop where the homemade cookies he made for you sat on the night you had welcomed him back home. You continued walking and stepped into the living room where the two of you made love countless times on his ridiculously expensive furniture. 
Deciding not to continue searching on the first floor, you made your way to his staircase. The last time you walked up those stairs was the day of your baby shower--the day he proposed to you and presented you with a fully furnished nursery, a broken wall, and some gotdamn ducks. You were afraid of what would be waiting for you inside that room this time. 
“Okay, little bee. Hold on tight.” You patted your stomach before you gripped the railing, ready to start your ascent. But you hadn’t made it two steps up when Jeno suddenly came flying down the stairs. 
“Hey, Ms. Y/N!” He seemed to be in a rush and didn’t even stop to properly greet you. “It’s nice seeing you again.”
“Where’s Jaehyun?” you managed to ask the young man before he made himself scarce.
He stopped in his haste and turned around to face you. “My former employer is in the nursery as you probably already guessed,” he informed you frantically.
You were more than taken aback by his choice of words. “Former employer? Wait, Jeno, what happened?”
“I have to go. The moving van will be here bright and early in the morning, so I have to make sure everything is packed and ready to be moved out of the pool house.”
“He fired you? And kicked you out--”
“I have to go, ma’am. I’m sorry it all had to come down to this. I really enjoyed having you as an acquaintance the past few years. And I’m really sorry about Mark. He wasn’t supposed to get mixed into all of this.”
“Mixed into what, Jeno?” You gripped his arm, stopping him from fleeing your presence. “Please, I have to know.”
Jeno looked you in the eyes and clearly saw the desperation he had already picked up in your voice. Guiltily, he averted his gaze downward, but he suddenly stopped breathing when his eyes landed on the envelope you were holding at your side. He didn't know exactly what was inside your envelope, but he had a pretty strong idea. “I have to go. Please send my love to the baby,” he said and pulled his arm out of your grasp, continuing his hasty retreat through the house. 
You took a deep breath and continued the ascent towards the second floor with more determination in your steps. Reaching the top of the staircase, you turned and walked toward the nursery. The door was slightly ajar, a sliver of light peeking through. You put your hand on the doorknob before readjusting your posture and reclaiming your confidence. You opened the door only to be greeted by...no one. Confused and thankful nothing jumped out to scare you, you turned every which way until you were dizzy, thinking you had somehow missed the six foot man in the beautifuly decorated nursery.
“Jaehyun?” You called out but there was no reply. You walked further into the room towards the crib. You braced yourself along the railing, the smoothness reminding you that Jaehyun built this himself with his own two hands. Two hands attached to a warm body that also proposed and promised you a lifetime of happiness. You should feel happy in this room like you did a week ago. But now you felt different. Off. “What is wrong with me?”
What were you there for exactly? What were you trying to accuse him of? What you were thinking he did could all have been something your mind made up because you were actually too scared to finally settle down and commit to someone. It was entirely plausible. You did this in all your relationships. You ran away from Taeil, from Doyoung, Taeyong, and Kun. Jaehyun wasn't special. The only thing he did differently was propose to you before you could escape. But you actually truly did want to stay this time. And maybe that was why you were so afraid. You were afraid of finding out something you actually had to run away from.
Tired of being in your thoughts and standing on your increasingly aching feet, you called out for him. “Jaehyun, we need to talk--“
“Let’s talk.” 
Startled, you dropped the envelope inside the crib before turning to face your fiancé in the doorway with a rod in his hand adorned with bumblebee patterned curtains. He was wearing a fitted, plain black t-shirt— one of several in his closet, jeans and canvas sneakers. Damn, he looked good. Simple, but so good. And you looked like a mess of a creature before him in your pajamas, house slippers, and wild bed hair. 
“Hey, what’s going on?” he asked after taking in your tousled appearance. “What are you doing here? Did Jeno let you in?” He placed the rod against the wall before walking up to you and grabbing your hands in his. He led you to the rocking chair, ushering you to sit while he crouched down in front of you. “Today has been very weird. First I had to pick you up from the emergency room. Then the release of my new movie was delayed by the studio. Jeno suddenly quit. And now you're here out of nowhere. Not that you being here is strange or anything. I love your company—wait did you drive here? Didn’t the doctor say—“
“Jeno quit?” you interrupted his rambling. “You didn’t fire him?” With the way Jeno ran down the stairs, you were pretty sure he was running away from something--or someone. But Jaehyun’s features gave off a look of concern and slight offense that you would think he’d fire Jeno for any possible reason. 
“No, he quit on his own. He said the stress of being my assistant was finally starting to weigh him down. I guess having to deal with your brother getting arrested wasn't exactly something he wanted to experience.”
At the mention of your brother's name, you remembered exactly why you were there in Jaehyun's home in the first place. “Why did you have my brother arrested? And why didn’t you let him call me from the police station? I may be pregnant, but Mark is still my brother. Not yours. I could have handled the situation.”
Jaehyun cupped your face in an attempt to calm the rising anger he could see wanting to boil up inside you. “I was going to go over to your place, actually. Sit down face to face and explain how Mark got involved in this silly feud between my cousin and I. But my agent called to give me ‘bad news’ and then Jeno came shortly after giving me his less than 24-hour notice.”
“I should have been a higher priority, Jaehyun. I’m your fiancée!” You all but screamed in your heightening temper and pushed his hands away from your face. That probably sounded selfish on your end, but considering your reason for showing up to his house unannounced, it needed to be said. You hadn’t planned on blowing your top so quickly, but every thought inside your mind was racing, making it hard for you to stay level.
His hands went down and gripped the armrests of the rocking chair. “I know and I’m sorry. But you’re here now, so please let me explain.” You didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. You just wanted him to admit whatever your brain was accusing him of so you could leave and be heartbroken alone in your bedroom. But of course you said okay, anyway, since you literally had no other choice but to listen to him. “I truly did not know Mark was borrowing cars from Taeil. If I had known that information beforehand, I would never have put him or Taeil in that position. Mark was simply an unexpected factor in this ongoing tit for tat game of family rivalry.”
“Ongoing?” After he proposed to you, Jaehyun had promised you that he would talk to his cousin about everything. So why was this beef over you between the cousins still unsquashed? “Jae, what does that even mean if you were the one who bought him the cars in the first place?”
“It means that my cousin is a leech and I finance him in order to keep him functioning.” Your eyes went wide, but you didn’t say anything so he continued. “Taeil’s weak attempt to separate us with his words spoken at the baby shower did not sit right with me. So since he decided to bite the hand that literally feeds him, I felt petty and decided to report both my vehicles that I allow him to drive as stolen.” 
Petty? There was nothing petty about that at all! It was straight up mean! Almost cruel! How could Jaehyun do that to his own cousin--his family? He wasn’t unprovoked, but nothing Taeil did or said deserved for him to get thrown in jail.
“How could you do that to a member of your own family, Jaehyun? If you were to get mad at me, would you do something like that, too?” Your mind had already wanted to make him out to be a bad person if it would help you confront him, but there he was convincing you himself. 
“What? Y/N, no! Please don’t make this more than what it is,” he pleaded, squeezing the armrests tighter. “Taeil and I have our issues, and I know I went too far. But I would never hurt you like that.” You didn't want to believe him, but the sincerity in his eyes instantly calmed you against your will. “In hindsight it was not the right thing to do. I admit it. But I truly didn’t know Mark was using the cars and had been for some time apparently. And if Mark needs a car, why didn’t you just tell me? I have plenty he could borrow. They’re all nicer than what Taeil was rolling around in anyway.”
Your eyes narrowed, the brief reassurance you felt from him fleeting at his flippant remark. “Mark and Taeil have had a relationship with one another since way before you came into the picture,” you snapped. “Taeil knew Mark when he was still in diapers. He looks up to Taeil like an older brother. Whenever Mark needs brotherly advice, Taeil is always there to lead or guide him. I was happy their relationship picked back up once Taeil moved back here. He’s done more for my little brother than anyone else has. And to think that you almost put that in jeopardy.”
Seemingly having touched a nerve, Jaehyun's nostrils flared slightly when he sighed. “I apologize, Y/N. I really am sorry. The charges were dropped and Mark has nothing on his record.” Your eyes followed his hands as he let go of the armrests and reconnected them with yours. “I promise I will make it up to Mark. And you. We can move on from this.”
Move on from this? Like it was just that simple? Your brother was handcuffed and thrown into the back of a cop car for no reason. It was something totally preventable if Jaehyun hadn’t been an asshole in the first place. And even if he had known Mark was driving the cars, he would have just put a report out on a day he knew Taeil was driving one of them. It would have been easy for him to figure out. Taeil wasn’t that hard to follow.
To follow…
Your eyes quickly shot back up to meet his, startling him back a bit. The words you spoke next came out in a sizzling string, climbing their way out from being forced into the dark corners of your mind. “I find it really hard to believe that you had no knowledge of Taeil letting Mark borrow the cars when you seem to keep tabs on everyone else connected to me.”
You hadn’t wanted to outright accuse him like that in case you were wrong about everything, but the anger growing inside you had finally taken over. You couldn’t take it back. And now the thread that held together your relationship with your fiancé was being tested.
Jaehyun’s mouth opened and closed in shock as his eyes flickered with confusion and something else you couldn’t quite place. You wanted to say it was fear. “What is that supposed to mean?” he asked, his tone a cross between offended and worried.
You stood up from the rocking chair, pushing him out of the way to move towards the crib. You retrieved the envelope you dropped inside of it and shoved it into his hands. Standing to his feet, he looked at the envelope like it was an unidentified object never before seen on planet earth. And then his eyes went blank.
He walked over to the other side of the room and simply placed the envelope on the fully stocked bookshelf without any attempt to open it. Aghast, your eyebrows went high into your hairline. “So you’re just not going to open it?”
“Yes,” he said too simply.
Your fists balled at your sides. “And why not?”
“Don’t need to see what I already know is in there.”
You hiccuped. A premature sob getting stuck inside your throat.
“Didn’t think it would show up again after Jeno lost it.”
The room was spinning. You needed to grab onto the railing of the crib for support. Jeno? No, you had received the envelope from Doyoung who had supposedly received it from Winwin. Wait! Was that why Jeno’s eyes grew wide when he looked at it on the staircase? Was this the reason he quit his job so suddenly? Nothing was adding up. “H-how do you know the contents belong to Jeno?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.
“Are there photos of Kun and some random woman in there?”
“Yes,” you answered him shakily.
“Jeno’s photos.”
Eyes glazed over, you stared at your fiancé standing across from you as your train of thought went back to the dark edges of your mind. For a moment you felt weak, and you thought your legs were going to give out beneath you. Jaehyun had thought the same thing, for he was at your side in an instant with a hand on your back, coaxing you to sit back down in the rocking chair.
“No. I’m standing,” you said firmly, your strength returning with full force, reignited by his audacity to touch you right now. You jerked away from him and walked over to the bookshelf. You aggressively grabbed the envelope off it and opened it before him. You held up the photos of Kun and the woman before throwing them down onto the floor. You pulled out the rest of the photos taken earlier today and threw those down as well before balling up the entire envelope in your hands. “Make this make sense, Jaehyun. Make it all make sense!” you yelled at him then threw the wad of paper at his chest, where it bounced off and unceremoniously landed at his feet.
Unflinching, he swallowed thickly as he studied the contents of the envelope on the floor. “The envelope did feel a bit thick. I now see why Jeno quit so suddenly.”
Jeno, Jeno, Jeno! Why did this all keep going back to Jeno? “What are you saying,” you demanded slowly.
“He was sloppy. Or careless. Maybe he did it on purpose.” He toed one of the photos on the floor that had been facing downwards and turned it over with his shoe. “I see he had these taken today. They never crossed my desk, but somehow ended up in your hands. You were never supposed to see them.”
Your throat became tight and you felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Involuntarily, you sat back down onto the rocking chair as your body betrayed you. You were weak. You could no longer stand because he had just admitted it in less than so many words. It wasn’t a complete confession, but it was all you needed to confirm what you desperately didn’t want to believe. You didn’t like the sound of where any of this was going, but you still wanted him to continue, to say he had a perfectly good and logical explanation for why Jeno would have all of those photos taken. But you couldn’t say anything, not immediately. You were rendered speechless by the truth you so hopelessly wanted to deny.
“Jaehyun,” you said barely above a whisper. “I’m going to need a little more than that.” He looked at you, his eyes soft with the unspoken words he saw mirrored inside your own--with the fear of knowing how this was going to end. “If you don't want to start with the ones from today,” you continued, “then start with Kun. Just tell me something.”
He took a breath and ran his hands through his hair. A gesture that forewarned he was about to unload a massive amount of unpleasant information. “Kun didn’t deserve you. He only appeared to be faithful to you," he said when he began. But of course, this was something you already knew--facts already revealed to the both of you outside of Ten's clinic the day of the paternity tests. "The woman in the photo was a fling from his past," he continued. "They started hooking up again towards the tail end of your relationship.”
A fling from Kun's past? You knew Kun had been in other relationships before you, but the two of you made a point never to bring up past relationships while you were together. You didn't want to talk about your exes for obvious reasons, but what reasons did Kun have? From what you knew, Kun refused to be stuck in the past and always looked at what was in front of him--who was in front of him. But then again, what did you actually know about Kun other than what he showed you on the surface? 
“And you became privy to this information how?” you asked Jaehyun. Obviously he had known for some time before the paternity testing since he was able to orchestrate having Kun's pictures taken.
“Remember our conference call last year when I asked you to review my contracts for the scripted series?”
“Yes.” 
“Well Jeno caught sight of Kun dropping you off in front of your office building that same day he brought over the contracts. A kiss on the lips between the two of you and he figured you were an item.”
A deep frown set into your face and your head tilted to the side in bafflement. In your head, you put together what Jaehyun had said and what you already knew and came up with your own conclusion. “So Jeno told you that I had a boyfriend, you became insanely jealous, and then decided to start following Kun around, waiting for a perfect moment to expose him as unfaithful?” 
“Not exactly." He took note of your skepticism denoted by your stance and quirked eyebrow. “I was happy you found someone. I figured the moments we shared before I left was the extent of our friendship and physical relationship. Especially since we hadn’t decided on if we were a 'we'. I truly was glad you found someone to be with," he reiterated his first statement while continuing to look straight into your eyes. "I was a little sad when I found out, but I knew that I should have worked harder to be with you or just have you wait for me. I had come to terms with losing you. I was going to move on. But then Jeno went for his regularly scheduled dental appointment and coincidentally his dentist that day was Dr. Qian.”
“You’re lying,” you said before your brain fully caught up with what was going on. It was too good to be true--too easy. Did he actually think you were going to fall for that? There was no way Kun could have fallen into Jaehyun’s hands so easily. 
“I really wish I was. Jeno usually sees the other dentist that works with Kun, but that day his partner was out and Kun was in charge of all the clients.” 
You were suspicious of his answer, but you remained silent with confirmation that you wanted him to continue given by your facial expression.
“Jeno, being the diligent assistant that he was, prodded for information regarding your relationship--without me knowing about any of this yet, I might add. But when Kun told him about the hot date with his girlfriend that same night, imagine his surprise when Kun named a woman that wasn’t you.”
Heat radiated through your body once more as you processed his words. “If you knew about him, then why did you keep that from me, Jaehyun? I could have gotten out of that relationship a long time ago!” The volume of your voice raised with every word. You couldn't fathom why he would do that to you. Everything that happened up until now could have been avoided had he just told you when he found out. But instead, purposefully or not, he wronged you by keeping it a secret.
“I had every intention of telling you," he said, holding his arms open in surrender. "I just didn’t know how to do it. If I told you then, you would have accused me of snooping like you are now. Or you would have gotten mad at me and said I was trying to come between your relationship or something, like lying to win you over. And you seemed happy with him, so why would I ruin that for you? I was stuck between multiple options.” He let his hands fall back to his sides in exasperation.
“So instead of telling me, you decided to take matters upon yourself anyway and have the man followed by your henchman, Jeno and Yangyang, all the way to his fake convention tour?” you interrogated him. Jaehyun finally broke the eye contact he held with you by looking down at the floor and rubbed his neck. The guilt etched onto his face was not being masked one bit. Frustrated by his behavior, you reached out to him and yanked him closer to where you sat by his other hand. “Talk, dammit.”
He sighed and forced himself to look at you again, and swallowed thickly before continuing. “It was actually...an all expense paid vacation purchased by me.” 
You let go of his hand, stunned into silence as your breath caught in your throat. Your eyes held so much anguish and disgust. Disgust directed at him. It pained him to see it--to acknowledge that he was the one to make you look at him that way. He knew he had royally fucked up everything he was trying to build with you, and the only thing he could do in this situation that he caused was to completely come clean. “I figured that if I sent Kun away, I could come home and tell you everything I found out about him. And when you decided to leave him--”
“You would already be there to put my broken heart back together,” you finished for him. There was no point in sugar coating it, but it sounded so much harsher when you said it out loud. His face flushed with shame. He looked so sorry--so pitifully guilty. You had every impulse to get up and slap him right then, but you didn’t. Instead, you let yourself speak freely. “That was your master plan? To set Kun up so you could swoop in and fix me like I’m some kind of broken object?”
“No, Y/N, I--”
“I can’t believe you of all people would do this, Jaehyun.”
“I didn’t do it alone,” he disclosed in a panicked attempt to deflect some of the blame.
You wanted to slap him again for even trying. “Yeah, Jeno. I’m sure he did a lot following your orders--”
“It was Winwin, too. It was his idea.”
You frowned, confused. You had momentarily forgotten that Winwin was involved with all of this. It was his idea? That would explain the way he acted in court earlier that day. And you did recall Winwin saying that he was the one who sent Kun on the fake trip. Now that you thought about it, what Winwin had said in court sounded a lot like what Jaehyun had just told you. But how? You had only met Winwin when you began dating Kun. Which meant…
“How long have you known Winwin?”
Jaehyun took another deep breath. He seemed to do that everytime he was about to hit you with more unpleasant information. “Winwin was my assistant before Jeno. Before I met you. He quit because he couldn’t handle the job anymore. He ended up becoming a travel agent because that was all he could find. We’re still friends and we met up from time to time. I told him about you one day. About us. That I wanted us to be serious. And when I told him your name, he said he already knew you and that he already knew about Kun. So, I elicited his help and together we sent Kun on that phony trip.”
No thoughts. Head Empty. 
He already knew Winwin before you ever met either of them? The two of them were close enough with each other and became close enough to you to come up with this ridiculous plan to blackmail Kun? It was a really dumb way to avenge your honor. And you couldn’t tell if you were mad or happy after hearing all of what they did. You were...conflicted. Very. Conflicted.
“I..this explains a lot and so little at the same time,” you managed to say coming out of your stupor. “I would have never guessed the two of you were once friends. The way you hid it from me...wow. Did you give Winwin acting advice?” you asked him bitterly.
“We never stopped being friends. He was willing to expose what type of man Kun really was so he played along as best as he could. We both thought we were doing the right thing. We just went about it in the wrong way. I’m really sorry, Y/N.” He looked at your hand, wanting so badly to reach out and hold it, but he knew you wouldn’t let him touch you right now. So instead he turned around and faced the wall on the opposite side of the room as he continued trying to exonerate himself. “In hindsight I should have just called you and told you. Whatever your decision would have been I would have supported it and moved on.” He walked toward the wall he was facing and placed his hand against it to support himself through his speech. “I truly thought I was doing the right thing. If I hadn’t screwed up the timing then my blackmail plot would have worked, haha...” He laughed after he said it, but there was no feeling in it whatsoever. “But then again it wouldn’t have mattered. I let Kun extend his vacation for a whole month with plans of getting back to you as quickly as I could so I could tell you all of this. I just needed him away from you for as long as possible so you would forget him by the time I came home.” He turned back around to face you. “But I was two months too late and already sixth in line. I didn’t think I would need to compete with any of the other guys for your heart.”
Sixth in line.
Suddenly, you found yourself gripping the armests of the rocking chair as your ears honed in on his last few sentences. You processed what he just said, repeating it a million times in your head until it finally clicked into place. You were a pretty sharp and smart individual. You earned several academic achievement awards and scholarships in college, graduated at the top of your class in Law school, passed the Bar on your first attempt, and you were highlighted as one of the top entertainment lawyers in your area. So your brain quickly connected the scattered dots after your eyes went down to the floor and you saw the other pictures you had carried inside the envelope. 
Your eyes went back up to look at him. “You knew about them before you came back, too.” 
“FuCk.” 
Jaehyun turned around and walked out into the hallway with you following without warning. He had gotten caught in another lie and couldn’t face you anymore.
Now sitting alone inside the nursery, you felt your anxiety go through the roof. Your hands began to shake and your bottom lip trembled as you held back the urge to scream.
“Come back here...” It came out choked and barely loud enough for him to hear wherever he had gone. “Come back here, Jaehyun!” Your rage took over and you were able to yell for him as loudly as you could.
You got up from the rocking chair and made your way out into the hallway to search for your fleeing fiancé. Luckily, you didn’t have to walk far. He was pacing up and down the hallway between the nursery and the master bedroom. His back was tense at his shoulders and his fists were tightly clenched at his sides. You knew words weren’t going to stop him, so you walked to him and forcibly grabbed his shirt to turn him around and face you. When you did, you saw his eyes up close. They were red with tears begging to be let loose from his ducts. They spoke volumes. Within them you saw fear and shame doing a tantalizing dance together with immense sorrow. 
Jaehyun hated it. He hated the way you looked at him like he was some kind of monster. Your eyes read back to him anger, betrayal, and genuine suffering. He couldn’t bear to have you look at him like that any longer and wanted to prove to you that he wasn’t a monster. But when he quietly spoke your name and tried to caress your shoulder, you immediately smacked his hand away. 
“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” A tear ran down his face. 
“No, Jaehyun! You do not get to cry!” You pushed him away from you by his chest, causing him to stumble backwards a bit. “How long? How long have you had YangYang following me around and secretly taking photos of me with the others? And don’t bullshit me. I want the whole truth!”
“Since I sent Kun away, okay! I knew you’d try and fill some preexistent void...” he trailed off and rubbed his wet chin, and then wiped his hand on his pants. “So I had you followed. What if you had gotten involved with someone similar to Kun? Or what if you found someone not good enough to be—“
“So the fuck what, Jaehyun! It’s my life and you had no reason to meddle with any part of it. Did you manipulate the other guys, too? Did you find a way to advertise phony trips to them, too?”
“No! I never meddled with anyone else, only Kun. At some point I realized those momentary flings were something you needed. A release. And by the time I had enough of your dick hopping with guys that weren’t me, who didn’t want to be with you long term except for maybe two of them, that’s when I decided to become the last participant in your ongoing sexcapade. I may have been sixth in line to get to your heart, but I was determined to be the first one you chose to share it with completely.”
“Then why didn’t you stop having me followed around?” You were teetering on the edge of an emotional cliff at this point. You felt a small kick inside you, your little bee signaling to you that if you kept this up she’d physically join you sooner rather than later, but you ignored her warning. 
“I had every intention to have you not followed anymore. After I returned early from filming, I decided to try really hard to make you see that I was the man you wanted and needed. But then you ghosted me when you decided you wanted to try again with Kun. After all the things I did that you were unaware of, you still chose to be with him. I could have sent you the photos then, but I didn’t want to hurt you like that after you and I had just emotionally and physically reconnected. Plus if I did, we wouldn’t be having the conversation now after all that has happened between us this far.”
“Tch. Of course we wouldn’t be like we are now! Jaehyun, look at us! I wish you would have shown me those photos when you wanted to because I’d be done with both you and Kun. For good. It would have saved me a lot of tears and heartache.”
Delusional, he was genuinely shocked at what he heard about you being done with him. He thought he may have finally gotten through to you with his ridiculous explanations. “You don’t mean that, Y/N. We would have worked through it after you heard where I was coming from and my reasoning behind the decisions I was making--”
“I don’t mean it? You don’t think extortion and manipulation isn’t a reason to cut ties with someone?”
“Yes, but I had to do what needed to done--“
“You didn’t need to have me followed or exploit Kun. My life isn’t a movie where you can just play whatever role you feel like!”
Those words cut him deep, and his countenance flickered with pain. “Y/N, I’m sorry--“
“Stop saying that! Because if you meant it you wouldn’t still be having me followed to this day! You were the last person I thought would hurt me this much!” 
You had not cried once up until this point, but the dam had finally been breached. Tears fell fast from your eyes as your heart shattered into a million pieces. You covered your face with your hands as you sobbed uncontrollably. Your baby was shifting inside you, agitated by all of the stress you were putting on her. And the thought of her safety was the only thing keeping you from falling to your knees.
“I never meant to hurt you like this...” He said as his own heart crumbled from watching himself single handedly destroy yours. “But...even after all I’ve done,” he continued, though you couldn’t imagine what more he could possibly have to say. “I’m still better than all the other guys you’re still hung up on.”
“I’m not hung up on anyone! I said yes to being your fiancée, remember?” You aggressively removed your hand adorned with the beautiful ring from your face and held it up to his. “I said yes without hesitation. But knowing what I know now, maybe I shouldn’t have. Even the fourth guy in line wouldn’t have hurt me this badly!”
Jaehyun’s eyes grew wide then narrowed before he quickly rushed a hand through his hair. It had become increasingly unkempt since the beginning of the argument. “Who, Taeyong? He wouldn’t know how to take care of you even if he tried. He can’t even properly manage his own bar.” You didn’t even ask how he knew which exact guy was fourth and let him continue talking. “This is actually his third attempt at a bar. His first two bars closed shortly after opening because of the shady dealings he was doing to keep the place afloat. He’s managed to make it past six months now because he was threatened again with more jail time. Plus you started sleeping with him again, and of course he believed he would have a life with you. So that forced him to start changing his way of living.”
“Well it’s good to know I’ve had such a positive impact on someone trying to turn their life around. At least he was honest with me about the type of person he was before and after he met me. All my other partners seem to have been more honest with me than you ever were.”
“Not the six foot phony who was one-third of your impromptu threesomes,” he said with a scoff before wiping any remaining tears he had with the back of his hand. “He’s engaged, Y/N. Has been for an entire year.” 
“What?” you asked incredulously.
“Yeah. The troll is afraid of commitment. But you already knew that considering you had multiple rendezvous with him while I was away. You were so devastated to hear Kun cheated on you after all this time, meanwhile you were the other woman for Johnny.”
“I didn’t know they were engaged! If I knew that I wouldn’t have slept with him again. But she knew about us before that. It’s not my fault he didn’t tell me everything about them.”
“Still didn’t make it right. Especially since you were also cheating on Kun at the same time.”
“I know it’s not right, Jaehyun! Why are you trying to redirect the conversation to make me look like a vile person?!” He didn’t have an immediate response for you, so you decided to keep going in your state of turbulent emotions. If he wanted to be nasty with his accusations, then you were going to be nasty right back. “Does Johnny intimidate you? You think that if you hadn’t come back or if I wasn’t with Kun, then maybe I would have ended up with Johnny instead? He is my type, after all, which is why I slept with him so many times. He’s tall, handsome, well-endowed, and has a dazzling smile just like you. Did you view him as your main competition?”
“Now you’re just saying stuff to try and piss me off,” he said with a set scowl on his face. “I don’t need to compete with someone who voluntarily cheats on his girlfriend. If the two of you had gotten together, he would have done the same thing to you and you would be in the same situation you were with Kun. Look around, Y/N. All those guys are terrible compared to me!”
You crossed your arms over your chest and shifted your weight onto one foot. “Fine. Since you seem to have some dirt on every single guy I slept with. Enlighten me. Tell me all the information you paid Jeno, YangYang, and whoever the fuck else you hired to find. Because I know you didn’t try to find anything out for yourself. Tell me all the secrets Yuta, Taeil, and Doyoung are keeping from me.”
Accepting your challenge, he began divulging facts without hesitation. “This is a secret not even Yuta knows, but he has another kid out there in the world. Maybe more, who knows. Jeno went above and beyond my authority and paid his ex-wife for the details. The kid’s mom had been trying to reach out to Yuta for a while, but the ex always intercepted and kept her quiet.” He saw your face fall, as you were very affected by this tidbit of information. To console you he said, “I’ll admit I created a monster with Jeno, and it wasn’t until Mark got arrested that he regained his good natured consciousness.”
“Why haven’t you disclosed this information to Yuta?”
“I wasn’t even supposed to know about that. Besides, you and the baby are my top priority. Not him.” Jaehyun leaned against the banister of the railing overlooking the first floor of his estate.
“I’m going to tell him,” you asserted.
“Suit yourself. I don’t care anymore,” he said with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders. 
“Well, what about Taeil? Did he steal your girlfriend when he was younger? Is that why you’re making sure he doesn’t end up with me either?”
“No.” He said affronted. 
“Then why?”
He looked down as he ran his hand back and forth along the polished wood of the banister. “Because I hired the love of his life to be my lawyer, pursued her situationally and then romantically, maybe fathered her first born child, and then I told her I loved her and proposed.”
“That’s not what I asked nor is it new information. Shit, everyone at the baby shower could have figured that out—they probably did figure that out.”
“No, it’s not. But to add insult to injury, he can’t provide for you like I can. Taeil’s broke. He’s a terrible accountant that made some piss poor investments in the past. He has no money. No savings. Nothing tucked under his mattress. He drives my cars because he can’t afford to buy his own. His house? Mine. His gym membership? He’s a guest on my account. Those bad investments? Good investments now since I got my hands on them. The only reason he was able to successfully get you in bed was because he moved back here while I was busy filming my movie; before I could convince him otherwise. He was the one that recommended I hire you as my lawyer. He just didn’t expect that I’d steal your heart, too.”
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, but some things were starting to make sense. “So…,” you began as you spoke your thought process out loud. “When Taeil went to study abroad where you stayed, he lived with you and confided to you about our failed relationship. And then when you saw the opportunity, you sought me out and continued to pursue me even though you knew about his strong feelings towards me?” Jaehyun looked to you and said nothing, affirming your assumption. “You’re sick.”
“It sounds worse when you say it that way. But my feelings have always been genuine. I originally sought out your professionalism and just so happened to fall in love with you while we worked together. I didn’t fall in love with Taeil’s memory of a long lost girlfriend. I fell in love with a respectable, successful, and mature woman. Different time. Different place. Different feelings.”
You hated that he was right. He didn’t make himself fall in love with you just so he could steal you away behind Taeil’s back. He fell in love with you naturally. But as you have come to find out, he loved you a bit too much and was willing to do whatever it took to make him look like the better man.
Feeling your heart wavering, you squeezed your arms tighter against your chest before you asked him about the last person he supposedly had information on. “And Doyoung?”
“The only thing I have on him...” He hesitated mid-sentence as if he was contemplating whether or not he wanted to say what he was going to tell you. “...is that he pawned the ring he purchased for you. He was going to propose to you after graduation, but Taeyong got in the way.”
You audibly hissed as you violently sucked the air between your teeth, causing Jaehyun to flinch slightly. “Jeno didn’t tell you this,” you told him with a clenched jaw. “You’re lying to me again?”
“I’m not lying. And it wasn’t Jeno. Ten told me after the paternity test.” 
“Liar,” you huffed out. You could feel your body temperature rising as your breaths became shorter.
He let out a dispiriting chuckle to himself. “Apparently you didn’t know, but he’s Team Jaehyun. Has been for quite some time now. He also got caught up in this ‘who’s the daddy’ drama and couldn’t help but dip his toes in. So he gave me some insight. He joked that the last men standing would be me and Doyoung. Even if the baby is for neither of us, we’d still be the last two actually vying for your heart.”
“Doyoung and I despise each other,” you hiccuped.
“And you despise me, too, now. So I guess Ten was way off with his assumption.”
“Just shut up!”
All of this had to be a lie! There was know way Ten had told Jaehyun that Doyoung was going to propose to you after you graduated law school. If Ten did know about it, all the way up to the detail about Doyoung pawning the ring, why hadn’t he ever told you? And why did he tell Jaehyun? Was Ten working with him, too? And how much of a financial hole was Doyoung in that he needed to sell the ring he was going to use to profess his undying love--
Jaehyun noticed the way your breathing had become irregular, and urgently pushed himself away from the banister when he registered the frantic look on your face as the cogs whirled inside your mind at the thought of Doyoung wanting to propose to you. “Y/N, listen to me. I know this is--“ 
“Sorry, pretty boy. Your time is up.”  
Equally stunned by the interruption, both you and Jaehyun whipped your heads around towards the staircase to see Yuta making his entrance onto the scene. You were so caught up in Jaehyun’s bullshit that you had momentarily forgotten he was still waiting for you outside. The tightness in your chest loosened at the sight of him, and you were thankful he kept his word by coming to your rescue at the right time.
“Y/N, it’s time to go?”
Jaehyun’s narrowed eyes darted quickly between you and the other man standing before him. “How long have you been in here?”
Yuta made his way over to you and gently uncrossed your arms that were still pressed tightly against your chest. “Long enough to know I have another kid somewhere out there. Not the way I wanted to find out, but then again, you can’t always get what you want.” While looking into your glossy eyes, he cuffed his hand around one of yours and let you squeeze it as hard as you needed to in order to keep hold of your sanity. He could feel the fast pace of your heightened pulse through your palm. “My ex-wife is pretty trash, huh?” He asked, then turned his head to face Jaehyun to now look directly into his eyes. “Don’t make the same mistake I did and marry the wrong person, Y/N.”
Beneath that cold, blank expression, you knew Jaehyun was fuming. You, his fiancée, had come unannounced to confront him, and now stood in his home holding hands with another man who also held claim to a piece of your heart. You stared at him as he seethed in silence, letting every letter of Yuta’s words sink into his prefrontal cortex.
“Don’t call me, text, email, or anything,” you commanded Jaehyun after you were able to find your breath. “I need time away from you to think. I need time for myself, my health, and my baby. Our possible baby.” You pointed between all three of you within the space. “Just let me think. No matter how long it takes.” You paused briefly to shift a bit of your weight onto Yuta, as you were now too tired to stand on your own. “If you want any little bit of hope that I’ll stay with you after all this, you’ll do these things for me.”
With your other hand you reached out to Yuta’s, and he proceeded to help you walk down the stairs and out of the mansion.
Tumblr media
There wasn’t anything he could say. The only thing Yuta could do was listen to the sniffling of your nose and breathy sighs as you cried softly beside him while he drove you home. You had a great deal of things on your mind and you would talk when you were ready. He himself had a lot on his mind. His ex-wife had been blocking him from seeing his other child. The only reason he could think of for her to do something like that was so she could secure their son’s inheritance, to ensure that he got all of it without having to split it with another sibling. He didn’t put it past her. She already tried to wring his bank account dry during the divorce. This made him wonder what his ex had in mind to do if he was the father of your baby, too. He needed to do something about that conniving woman and get his son away from her before she did something else he wouldn’t be able to forgive.
You sighed heavily, snapping Yuta out of his thoughts. From the corner of his eye he saw you wipe your nose with one of the tissues from the packet he got for you out of his glove compartment. Seeing you like this was so upsetting to him. He was used to seeing you as a strong, independent woman who didn’t have any problem taking care of herself. To see someone like you so broken up because of another person made him so mad. He should have punched Jaehyun like he originally wanted to.
“I’ll stay with you until your brother gets back,” Yuta said, breaking the stagnant air around you.
You shook your head. “No, your family needs you.”
“Are you sure?”
You weren’t. You weren’t sure if you actually wanted to be alone until Mark came back. You weren’t sure you could be alone. But you were sure that you didn't want to drag your brother or Yuta any further down this deep pit of despair you dug for yourself. You didn’t want to go home anymore. You didn’t want to be there alone with your thoughts and you didn’t want to be there with Yuta who had his own issues that needed to be sorted out right away. But where could you go? The man you thought you could trust your heart to just ripped it out of your chest and stomped on it. There was nowhere else for you to go but home to cry on your brother, but you refused to keep stressing him out. So you would have to go to a place where you could cry on someone else who actually had a role in your messed up storyline. Two of which would more than likely turn you away, and one of them would definitely welcome you with open arms against their better judgement. And the other would…
“I want you to take me somewhere else instead,” you answered Yuta’s question.
“What? Where?”
“I just don’t want to go home. Please, Yuta?”
He sighed and scratched the back of his head. “I’m going to have to charge you cab fare.”
Because of Yuta’s joke, a small smile was able to make its way onto your tear stained face. “Thank you. Take the exit after the next one and then make a left at the light.”
Yuta followed your instructions as you directed him to your destination. He had an idea on where you were going and his assumption grew stronger when he began to drive through a residential area. You pointed to the house you wanted him to drop you off in front of and he pulled up to the curb to park his car.
“That’ll be $36.00, please,” he said, reaching out his hand towards you. You ignored his antics and began taking off your seatbelt. “Whose house is this anyway?”
“You’ll see.”
“Oh no. I’m not letting you out until you tell me.” To reinforce his point, he pressed the button to re-lock his car doors that had automatically unlocked when he put his car into park.
“I’ll be fine. What more can be done to me after what I just went through?” You unlocked the door manually and then struggled your way out of the car by yourself. By the time Yuta had taken off his own seatbelt to stop you, you were already halfway to the front door of the house, so he gave up and let himself watch you go up the rest of the way and ring the doorbell. After opening the door, the owner of the house’s hands went immediately to your puffy cheeks as the sight of your distressing appearance suddenly caused him to become overcome with urgency.
Yuta craned his neck as he tried to see who it was you chose to use as a supportive pillar. When he got a good look at them he made a hum of enlightenment before sitting back properly in his seat. “I was expecting to see her mother, not the rabbit.”
You were immediately ushered into the house and made to sit on the living room sofa. Doyoung left you briefly to make herbal tea after you accepted his offer for a cup. Once done, he set the cup and saucer into your hands, and then he sat down beside you on the couch with his elbows resting on his legs. “What happened to you?” he asked you after waiting for you to take your first sip of the tea. After your visit with him to the ER earlier that day, he assumed you had gone home to rest like the doctor prescribed.
“I found out who really had the pictures taken.” Doyoung didn’t say anything, allowing you to continue when you were ready. He watched as you took another sip of your tea, noticing the way your hand slightly trembled when you placed it back down onto the saucer. “It was Jaehyun.”
As if he had already known the answer, Doyoung closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. “I figured as much.”
“How long have you known?” Leave it to Doyoung to be so perceptive. He should quit being a lawyer and become a detective. 
“I found the pictures the day you had us all tested. I put the pieces together a little bit before your baby shower.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
Doyoung looked down shamefully at his hands. “You ask that like you were actually willing to talk to me.”
“It didn’t stop you from giving me the envelope.”
He moved one of his hands to push back his hair from his face. “I’m sorry about that. My mind was grappling with so many emotions that day. I wanted to talk to you about everything in person, but he kept getting in my way.” From the way he spit out the word, you knew he was talking about Jaehyun without having to say his name.
“I’m glad you did it when you did,” you told him as you gazed dismally into the orange liquid inside your cup. “I was able to use what you gave me to confront him and he revealed his true self.”
Doyoung’s eyes moved from your face to your hand that held the saucer. You were still wearing the engagement ring from Jaehyun. He didn’t want to make any assumptions about where your relationship with him stood. “Are you still…” he asked tentatively.
You followed his gaze and inferred what he was asking you. “I don’t know,” you said after taking a deep breath. “I just...he told me a lot of things. I don’t know if I’ll be able to trust him again.”
“I see,” was all he could say to you in that moment.
There was another small period of silence between you so you could drink more of your tea, but in actuality you were mustering up the nerve to ask him this next question: “Is it true that you were going to propose to me?”
Doyoung’s entire body went stiff beside you. And you swore you saw his eyebrows hit the sky. “Who told you that lie?” 
You turned your body slightly to face him more and looked into his eyes for the first time since entering his home. “Everybody has been lying to me lately and I just want to have an honest conversation with someone. So is it true?”
“Did Jaehyun tell you that to mess with your head? It’s obviously false,” he said, becoming defensively indignant.
“Ten told him.” 
Doyoung didn’t respond right away, and so you knew it was the truth.
“How much money did you lose on the ring?”
“Why does that matter? You still left me anyway, so I would have had to sell it regardless.”
And here you thought the two of you would finally be able to put aside your differences.
“For fucks sake,” you gritted and practically threw the tea cup and saucer onto his coffee table. “I’m sorry I left you, okay! Is that what you want me to say? Stop reminding me of one of the biggest mistakes I've ever made! So can we please have a conversation like two human beings?”
Something you had just said lit a flame inside him and he could no longer hold back all the conflicting feelings he kept inside him. “Fine! If you want me to be honest, yes! I was going to propose to you. You were my everything just like you were to all these other guys that worship the ground you walk on for some reason. And I just don’t know why it has to be like this!” He took a second to take a shaky breath as tears began to prickle behind his eyes. “Because you were with me! You were supposed to be with me forever! But then you just left me to be with Taeyong, and I made myself hate you all this time even though I was the one who told you to go!” He hastily wiped his eyes with his sleeve before any of his tears could fall. “Fuck!”
You stared at him wide eyed in disbelief at the fact that he was finally being honest about himself. But then you shook your head when something other than his current state came to your attention. “Was it really Taeyong or were you too afraid that I might have rejected your proposal to be with someone else?”
Doyoung sniffed and wiped his eyes once more. “Don’t psychoanalyze me right now.”
“I’m right, aren’t I?” He responded by rolling his eyes at you, making you scoff. “You know, you're the whole reason I have commitment issues. You’re the literal reason I ran into Taeyong’s arms. But he turned out to be crazy, so I left him. Then the next thing I knew I was  working with two guys who only wanted me for my body rather than have a functioning relationship. I said I was fine with that, but I really wasn’t.  So I found a seemingly good natured man to settle down with, but I was still unhappy with him because I wanted to try the no sex thing like an idiot. If you hadn’t run me away in the first place, we’d be married by now with our joint practice like we used to talk about, and I wouldn’t have come out of some crazy sex bender not knowing who the father of my daughter is!”
“I know, I know! And I’m so sorry!”
“Are you?!”
“Yes! And I wish I could take it all back!” He cradled his face in his hands as he fought back a sob. “I never stopped loving you, Y/N.”
“You made sure I believed otherwise.”
He slid his hands down and off his face. “Because I’m stupid.” 
You shook your head at him again. “No, I’m stupid. I still don’t know who my baby’s father is because I’m too scared to look at the results.”
Doyoung’s eyes widened slightly. “You have the results and never told any of us you got them?”
“I know I’m terrible for keeping everyone in limbo. I wasn’t ready before. But now...I think I am. I have to be.” Doyoung watched quietly as you lifted up your left hand and twisted off the engagement ring on your finger. “Knowing who he is determines how I’m going to move forward with my life,” you continued and placed the ring onto the coffee table next to the small puddle of tea you spilled. “And I need to be able to face head on whatever fate the universe has chosen for me and my child.”
Tumblr media
Dun dun duuuunnnnn!
For other chapters, see the masterlist.
141 notes · View notes
stormcrawler75 · 4 years
Note
Bad Things Bingo request: Memory Loss with the Sides as a pantheon of gods.
Tumblr media
Warnings: Memory Lost, description of scars, Virgil not having a good view of how he looks.
Notes: Dude, guys, I accidentally deleted the last few paragraphs and had to rewrite them. I finished this tonight out of spite.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Virgil fucking hated snow.
There was no good thing about snow. Not one damn thing and Virgil was willing to stake his life on that claim. In fact, every good thing about Virgil’s life slowed to a stop when fall ended and the snow started to fall. Snow was cold, killed all of the crops that Virgil spent all year growing, and made travel into town a damn bitch. And, on top of everything else, it made the scars surrounding Virgil’s eyes and temples ache to no end. The only thing that helped with the aches and pains was the medicine that his friend Elliott sold. And where did Elliott sell the medicine?
All the way in town. So, yeah, Virgil hated snow.
He sighed as he climbed out of his bed, the cold from outside seeping into his bones. Virgil’s home was a small one-bedroom house with a small fireplace, a bed that he had pressed against two walls, small knickknacks and gifts placed on shelves that Virgil had built himself, and a small rug in front of the door to the outside. The fire that he had built the night before had gone out, with only glowing embers left in Virgil’s tiny fireplace now. The bowl with half of Virgil’s leftover dinner was left beside his bed, which Virgil immediately grab to slowly pick at.
Virgil glanced over at a small mirror on the wall that Elliott had given him, gently wiping at his eyes and trying his best to avoid his scars. There were deep and rough scars around Virgil’s eyes - as if someone had tried carving them out with a knife but never truly committed to the idea - and two identical thin, deep scars on each of his temples. Virgil’s nose was crooked like it had been broken many times before and one of his eyes didn’t open all the way. He wasn’t the prettiest man ever but, as Elliott had once said, he was just lucky to still be alive. Not that Virgil cared about the scars or how he looked. He honestly just wished that he remembered how he got the damn scars.
Or any part of his life before waking up in the town’s local Doctor’s office. He had woken up nearly five years ago with no memory. Elliott had found him on the outskirts of town, caught in a bright bronze net and left for dead, and had immediately brought him to the town’s Doctor. The town had been gracious enough to provide Virgil with a small house and some land to make a living off of. Virgil had been given far, far more than a poor, ugly man like him ever deserved and he had tried his best to pay the town back ever since. He gave deals to the town folks on his carrots and beets, he did odd jobs in the winter for half the price he charged for out of towners, and when the town announced that they would be making a temple for the God of Family and Safe Havens, Virgil went out and chopped down as many of his own trees that they would need.
Even if Virgil wasn’t sure what he thought about these Gods, he would give everything and anything to the people who had given him a home, their food, and the clothes off their back.
Though, it wasn’t like what he gave was anything special. Though the farmwork he did was hard and backbreaking, the corps flourished under Virgil’s hands. It wasn’t like he ever did anything special. He just did what every other farmer did. Maybe it was just that Virgil did what he loved. Waking up early and going out to work with his vegetables and his two little fruit trees were hard but Virgil loved it so much that anyone who happened to walk onto his land had a good chance of hearing him sing as he worked. As long as what he did made the town happy, Virgil was happy.
Virgil was startled from his thoughts from banging on his door, the excited voice of his best friend calling from outside, “Virgil! Virgil, wake up, wake up!” Virgil yawned shuffled over to the door, opening it with a tired smile. “Hey, Elli. What’s up?”
Elliott beamed at him and surged forward, grabbing Virgil’s arms and making him shiver from the snow and frost on their mittens. “It’s finished! The builders, you know the ones who said that they wouldn’t be able to finish until Spring? The mayor paid them double and they finished! The Temple is opening up tonight and they’re going to be putting out a feast!” They let go of Virgil, stumbling over to the spot on the floor where Virgil’s damp coat, mittens, and gloves had been dumped.
Virgil could only gawk at them, feeling like his brain was having trouble catching up to what Elliott was saying. “It’s finished?! How, when- I haven’t heard anything about the builders starting up again! When did this even happen?!”
“They worked through the night for the last month,” Elliott squealed, practically throwing Virgil’s winter wear at him. “And, dude, I can’t believe I’m even gonna be saying this,” Elliott took Virgil’s hands and said with forced calmness, “the God Patton himself might actually show up.”
Virgil swore that his heart stopped right then and there. Full on, dead stop. “A God?! What the hell are you talking about?! He’s coming here?!”
“It’s this new thing,” Elliott babbled, gesturing at the clothes in Virgil’s arms frantically until Virgil slowly started pulling them on. “It only started in the last few years and only in this country but, recently, whenever a Temple is built, whichever God the Temple is for shows up! They usually mingle for a bit and insist on looking around. I heard that even the God of Logic and all that other stuff showed up in a town a few days away about a month ago! He blessed the town’s teachers, looked around, and then left. People are thinking that the Gods are looking for something or something and that’s why they’re showing up everywhere!”
“Holy shit,” Virgil whispered, pulling his hat on hurriedly. “Holy shit, are you serious?! That’s fucking - we gotta check it out!” He grabbed his boots and practically jammed them on his feet. “We gotta get going now! If we head out now then we can make it to the town by lunchtime! Wait, no, we gotta get an offering! Do you have something to give him? I killed a deer yesterday and I still have its pelt so I’m covered but what about you!?”
Elliott grinned at him and flashed a bright pink ring on their left hand. “I’m good! My Grandma gave me this ring just in case something like this happened before she died years ago. Now come on! We can wait in my house until tonight but we gotta get going!”
Virgil laughed and grabbed Elliott’s hand, pulling them out of the small cabin. “You better have brought your horse and buggy because if I have to walk through all of this snow, I am going to lose it.”
“Of course I did,” Elliott laughed, climbing into the buggy. “And you know that that you could buy a horse of your own from old man Jerry. After you helped him and his wife with that problem they were having, they’d probably give you one for free!” They eyed Virgil’s rising blush with a grin. “And Miss Kitty would give you three buggies for how you helped her with her girlfriend. Heck, she’d give you a carriage!”
“It’s not my fault that I give good advice,” Virgil muttered, ducking his head and trying to get comfortable in his seat. “Besides, Miss Kitty and Jessica’s problem was easy. They just needed to talk, that’s all. I just pointed it out.” He batted Elliott’s arm when he saw them open their mouth to continue talking and - most definitely - continue talking about how Virgil kept getting when it came to giving advice about people’s love lives. “Shut up and get us to town, Elli!”
He ignored Elliott’s laugh and settled back as the horse started making its way back to town. Elliott was just overexaggerating. It wasn’t like Virgil went out looking for people who needed help with their love lives. Just... whenever Virgil was talking to people, the topic of love happened to come up a lot and people always seemed to ask for his advice. Virgil honestly had no idea if the advice he was giving was good, per se. It was just that Virgil seemed to know what he was talking about. People theorized that Virgil had been a Matchmaker before he had come to live here. Virgil wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
Besides, it wasn’t just romantic things that people came to Virgil to ask advice on. Virgil had helped with the two orphan boys that had come from the city, the year-long fight that two local sisters were having, and a fight between two best friends. It seemed that Virgil was just good with advice. It wasn’t like it was anything special.
“So, all of the Gods have been showing up lately,” Virgil asked Elliott as the buggy went down the dirt road.
Elliott nodded but then paused. “Well, almost all of them. One of them hasn’t shown up recently. The God of Love and Beauty hasn’t appeared in almost five years now.” They shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I mean, I heard that he was super active before so he’s probably just taking a break. I heard that time passes really quickly for the Gods. I’m sure that he’ll be back sometime soon.
“I mean, what’s the other option? I mean, what kind of bad things can happen to a God?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Temple was beautiful.
Virgil knew that it was nothing compared to the Temples in cities or the Capital. He had heard rumours of those Temples being made from solid gold, with sparkling rubies and sapphires embedded in its walls, and rich offerings given by Kings and Queens stacked through the halls. Compared to those Temples, this little one was nothing. It was barely as big as the local schoolhouse with one room. From looking through the front window, Virgil thought that it looked more like a very cozy and comfortable family room than anything. There was a beautiful fireplace roaring with fire, beds pushed up against the walls, and food stacked on the table. Virgil’s offering of a deer’s pelt was lying on a table along with several others.
“I can’t believe that this is the new Temple,” Virgil whispered to Elliott, both of their eyes wide with wonder. The two of them were at the front of a large crowd in front of the Temple, waiting for entrance. This whole thing was so exciting that Virgil was barely aware of the dull sting from the wind hitting his scars. “I mean, it’s great but it’s... not what I thought it’d look like.” While it might not be what they were expecting, it was still the most wonderful place that either of them had ever seen.
Elliott grinned at him, bouncing up and down in excitement. “Me neither but this is the God of Family and Safe Havens. I bet that this Temple would look a lot different if this was a Temple for the God of Beauty and Love or for the God of Self Preservation. I hear that the God Patton lets people use his Temples as Safe Havens, just like the God Janus.” They gasped when a soft, warm blue light glowed from the inside of the house, bathing everything inside with its light. “Oh my gosh,” they whispered, gripping Virgil’s arm tightly. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe this, I can’t believe this! He’s actually coming, he’s actually showing up!”
The crowd of people immediately quieted and no one made a single sound. Virgil could’ve dropped a pin and it would’ve been the loudest sound in the entire town. Slowly, the light coming from the Temple died down. Though, and maybe this was just Virgil seeing things, the inside of the Temple seemed warmer somehow. It seemed homier. And the large man standing in the, just minutes before empty, Temple seemed completely right there.
Virgil watched through the front window with wide eyes as the man slowly looked around. He was huge, almost six feet, with curly blond hair and big round glasses that were perched on top of a small bottom nose, covering big blue eyes. There were freckles on each and every inch of the man’s skin and there were laugh lines around his eyes. He was wearing comfortable clothes and had the air of a person that you could trust. The kind of person that you would run to if you had a problem or no one else you could turn to. He looked... like a Dad.
He looked familiar.
The God slowly walked through the Temple with a small smile, gently touching the walls and taking a minute to look at the food. Virgil watched him kneel by the fireplace and gently stroke it for a few seconds, glowing embers jumping from the fire and onto the God’s skin only for the God to brush them from his skin with no sign of injury. And Virgil watched as, slowly, the God stood and made his way to the door leading outside to the crowd waiting outside.
Virgil hurried to kneel with the rest of the town, breath catching at the God stepped outside. Most, including Elliott, had their heads bowed respectfully but Virgil could only gawk dumbly as the God looked out at them with a smile. For almost a second there, it looked like he was looking for something and he had to hold back his disappointment when he didn’t find it. But he kept a smile firmly on his face as he went back to looking through the crowd. He had just opened his mouth to say something when his gaze landed on Virgil’s ugly scarred face. Virgil felt a pit of terror settle into him as the God’s face went from gratitude and forced happiness to an expression that Virgil didn’t have the time to fully understand at before the God was almost running at him.
“Vergilius!”
The crowd scrambled away from Virgil, Elliott being pulled from him from someone, and Virgil felt frozen as the God landed in front of him. Distantly, in the back of Virgil’s mind, he remembered a mean rumour that had circulated when Virgil had first been found. That Virgil had somehow offended a God and, in punishment, the Gods had scarred him and stolen his memory. Virgil had never believed these rumours but now, Virgil thought that it might be true. And if they had stolen Virgil’s memory the first time, Virgil found that he was utterly terrified to discover what they might take this time.
Virgil jumped as large, calloused but gentle hands cupped his cheeks, tilting his head up so he was staring right in the watery eyes of the God of Family and Safe Havens. The God’s glasses were slightly crooked and had slid down right down to the edge of his nose. Tears were making their way down his cheeks and the God’s lips were turned up in a bright, slight disbelieving but so relieved grin. The God was rubbing a thumb into Virgil’s cheek gently while the other was hovering frantically around Virgil like it didn’t know where exactly it should settle. “Oh, Vergilius,” the God whispered, voice cracking. “Oh, you’re here. You’re safe.”
“Vergilius?”
“As in the God Vergilius?!”
“The God of Love and Beauty!?”
“Virgil, our Virgil?”
“What is a God doing living in a cabin on the edge of a poor little town?”
“I,” Virgil licked his suddenly dry lips, staring at the God in confusion and a bit of fear, “my name is Virgil. I’m sorry but, I think I you got the wrong person. I’m, I’m not,” his words trailed away from him, not sure what to say. He found himself leaning into the God’s hand and had to jerk away. Had to jerk away from the feeling of ‘finally-I’m-finally-home-I-was-so-scared-but-I’m-home-and-I-was-so-scared-but-I-knew-that-you’d-find-me’.
The God laughed, but it sounded more confused than anything. “Kiddo, Vergilius, what are you talking about? Oh, Sweetheart, what happened?” Virgil’s breath caught as one of the God’s huge fingers gently brushed against one of the scars surrounding his eyes. “Who did this to you,” the God asked, his voice darkening and full of power. He looked up and he seemed like a God for the first time since he had arrived as he demanded, “Did these Mortals do this to you?!”
Almost a full year ago, Elliott had told Virgil that there was a reason that Patton was the God of both Families and Safe Havens. Because no one would dare step into one of the God’s Safe Havens and try to hurt someone who had hidden there. Because those who stayed there were the God’s family and no one would risk Patton’s wrath. Virgil hadn’t been completely convinced if Elliott wasn’t exaggerating back then, of the God’s terrible wrath on those who had hurt those who he had deemed family.
But now, as the ground started to shake and the sun started to burn impossibly bright, Virgil knew that Elliott had been under-exaggerating.
“Wait,” Virgil cried, lurching forward and grabbing Patton’s arm desperately just as the God had started to rise. “Please, don’t hurt them! They saved me, they didn’t hurt me,” he pleaded. “Please, please don’t hurt them, please.”
The God stared down at Virgil, one hand still cupping his cheek. “You’re sure,” he asked softly, the shaking ground slowly calming and the sun’s harsh beams dimming slightly. “Are you sure, Sweetheart? They’ve helped you?”
“They found me in a bronze net,” Virgil babbled, keeping a tight grip on Patton’s arm like he could single-handedly stop the God if he tried anything. “Elliott did. They found me without my memories and brought me to a Doctor and healed me. They gave me a house and land and fruit trees and seeds and they never hurt me, I promise, I swear!” His chest was burning with the love he had for this small town and the people in it and he was honestly afraid that his chest would burst from just how much of it there was.
There was a long pause before the God slowly pulled Virgil up until he was standing, paying attention only to Virgil and giving none of it to the townfolks watching with bated breath. Both of Patton’s hands cupped Virgil’s cheeks and he asked softly, voice almost unhearable, “Do you know who I am, Kiddo? Do you remember me?”
Virgil blinked and the tears that had been building during his frantic plea starting slowly trickling down his face. “You’re Patton,” he whispered softly, “the God of Families and Safe Havens. The Creator of Janus, the God of Self Preservation and, and a lot of other things. The Father of the Council of Gods.” He let out a shaky breath as the God bowed his head, letting his forehead rest on Virgil’s. “Am... am I wrong?”
The God let out a shaky, pained laugh. “No, Kiddo. No, you’re not wrong.” He looked up at the pale, terrified Mayor and gave him a wobbly smile “Thank you for the Temple. It’s beautiful. I love it.” He turned back to Virgil and gently petted his hair. “I need you to come with me, okay Darling? I know this is all probably very scary and overwhelming for you but I need you to be brave, okay?”
“You... you won’t hurt them,” Virgil asked shakily, looking over his shoulder at the townsfolk. Even though they looked terrified, many of them managed to give Virgil weak and encouraging smiles. One of them, an older lady named Miss Julia, looked like the only reason she wasn’t beating Patton away with her cane was her partner, Hannah, gripping onto her arm tightly. “Right? They protected me. You promise you won’t hurt them?”
The God smiled at him gently, pressing a kiss onto his forehead. “I promise, Sweetheart.” And, with that, Virgil was pulled into a gentle hug and his face was gently pushed into the God’s shoulder so he couldn’t see what was happening. Virgil was about to pull away, terrified that he’d look back to see that his town had been wiped off the map, but he found himself falling limp into the God’s arm when a warm, safe feeling flooded into him and the ground was whisked out from under him. The harsh winter wind disappeared and, for one brief moment, there was only Virgil and the God.
And then, Virgil stumbled as a floor reappeared under his feet. Even without looking, Virgil knew that it was the most expensive floor that he could remember standing on. It was smooth and felt like it had been freshly waxed. He pulled back away from Patton and looked around, eyes widening. Now, this was a Temple.
They were in a large room that wouldn’t look out of place as a King’s throne room. Nine empty thrones were placed around the room, all of them looking completely different from each other. And, for some reason, Virgil felt drawn toward the smallest, almost dainty looking one on the far left side of the room. Like it was meant to be his.
“Does this room seem similar to you at all,” the God asked gently, keeping one hand on Virgil’s shoulder. He seemed to deflate a little when Virgil shook his head. “Okay, that's okay, Kiddo. Now, I want you to wait here, okay Hon? I’m going to get our friends and we can talk this whole thing out.” He leaned forward and gave Virgil a gentle kiss on his forehead before leaving the throne room and leaving Virgil alone.
Virgil swallowed and looked around slowly, trying his best to get his bearings. The room was gorgeous but his eyes kept getting drawn to the small, purple and black throne. It was deceptively dainty looking almost like the throne of a Queen that Virgil had seen once in a book Elliott had given him. But, even from halfway across the room, Virgil could see that the metal was sharp and there were two small, detachable knives on the arms of the throne that would’ve been perfect if the person sitting there suddenly needed something to throw. And there was a power simply radiating from the throne, like if the wrong person sat in it then they’d simply cease to exist.
It was beautiful.
There was a sudden flurry of noise and Virgil spun around, tensing up defensively. The noise was coming from a doorway and Virgil could hear one voice rising above all the others, “You can’t be serious, Patton! He’s been in a dirt poor farm town this entire time?!” There was the soft of Patton answering back, though Virgil couldn’t make out exactly what he said, and the same voice from before snapped back, “No way! Vergilius wouldn’t stay away from us, we’re his family! Whoever you brought back is an imposter, it has to be!”
Virgil stepped forward nervously, walking up to the doorway and standing right beside it but still not be seen. A new voice jumped in, low and suave. “We don’t know that, Roman. We should meet him, just in case it really is Vergilius!”
“But what if this is some evil monster who tries to put us under his spell?!”
“Roman - hes’s not a monster!”
Virgil jumped at a new voice snapped out, “Enough!” Roman, Remus, Emile, Remy, you four stay here. Myself, Patton, and Janus will meet with... whoever Patton has brought here.”
“It’s Vergilius,” Patton cried, sounding close to tears. “Logan, I promise-”
“I know, Patton, I know. We’re just going to check that this is Vergilius for certain, okay Sweetling? And if this truly is Vergilius, we’ll want to make sure that he’s okay first before bombarding him all at once. This is just to be safe.”
“And if this is an imposter, then me and Roman will stab him to death and push him into a vat of boiling poison!”
“For once, I agree with my brother.”
Virgil felt a cold stab of fear before it was overwhelmed with the feeling of hot, harsh anger. He was basically dragged here, taken from his home because apparently, some God thought that he was the God of Love and Beauty - fucking ridiculous - and now some other God decided that if he didn’t look enough like this missing God than they were going to be taking Virgil’s life as punishment. Who the fuck did this guy think he was? Before Virgil even knew what he was doing, he was already halfway through the door and spitting out, “Well I fucking don’t!”
The hallway was filled with eight people, all who turned at the sound of Virgil’s voice, but Virgil turned all of his attention to the one with a sword drawn and glaring daggers at Virgil. He didn’t half to be a genius to know that this was the guy who had called him an imposter and jumped right on board with the ‘Killing Virgil’ plan. Virgil decided that he didn’t like this guy.
The guy - he had to be God - puffed up and stalked up to Virgil, baring his teeth at him. “How dare you wear the face of my friend, you imposter!”
“I’m not a fucking imposter and I’m not your fucking friend,” Virgil snapped, planting his feet and glaring up at him. The God glared right back at him with bright red eyes, gripping his sword so tightly that his knuckles were turning bright white. “So don’t go yelling at me!” He pushed at the God’s sword arm so hard that the God nearly dropped his weapon.
There was a moment of tense silence before one of the others cleared their voice, stepped forward with a raised finger and said, “Just so you all know, I’m on Pattycake’s side. That is definitely Vergilius.” They stepped back with a smirk as the God with the sword turned his glare at him. “Hey, just saying, Roman.”
The God - Roman - huffed and turned his snarl back to Virgil. “I don’t care what you say, Remy. I know Verglius and he wouldn’t hide out in some random town while we’re all looking for him!”
“My name isn’t Vergilius,” Virgil snapped, feeling the urge to stop his foot. “It’s Virgil! I don’t know any of you guys and my name is Virgil!”
Roman spread his arm and nodded firmly. “See!? Even the Mortal agrees! This was just a mistake.” He sheathed his sword and offered Virgil his arm with a sharp smile. “If you’ll come with me, I’ll escort you back to your home and we can go back to looking for the real Vergilius.”
“Wait,” Patton cried, stepping forward and shoving himself between Virgil and Roman. “Roman, I know that this is Vergilius, I just know it! He told me that he had no memories, he told me this! Logan,” he turned to a short man who was staring at Virgil with dark narrowed eyes, “Logan, you believe me, don’t you?”
“...He does bear an uncanny resemblance to Vergilius,” Logan hummed, stroking his chin with thin, boney fingers. “And if he did indeed lose his memories than that would explain why Vergilius never sent word and how he gained those scars. Though, we have had many imposters in the last five years that you were also sure was Vergilius, Patton,” he continued gently.
“It’s Virgil,” Virgil said sharply, straightening up and glaring at the God.
Logan sighed in frustration and opened his mouth but was cut off by that same suave voice from before. “Well, then, there really is a simple way of solving this, isn’t there?” Virgil turned to look at who was talking and froze.
Staring back at him was a man with sharp golden eyes and bright green scales going down the left half of his face, staring down at Virgil with an unreadable expression. He tilted his head and said smoothly with a shrug, “Make him sit in Vergilius’ chair.”
One of the Gods who hadn’t spoken yet - a God who looked very similar to Patton but with bright pink and blue eyes, long brown hair instead of blond, and an outfit that wouldn’t look out of place on a scholar - stepped forward with a frown. “But, Janus, that’s not fair to the Mortal! Patton brought him here, he didn’t come here claiming to be Vergilius! If it turns out that he isn’t Vergilius then the power will overwhelm him and -”
“Wait,” Virgil cried, throwing his hands up in the air. He tilted his chin up and glared at the intimidating God, Janus. “Sitting in that chair will prove whether or not I’m this Vergilius?” Janus had barely nodded before Virgil was turning back to the throne room to sit in the stupid damn chair so he could go back to his farm and sleep until fucking spring.
But Janus’ hand snapped out and grabbed Virgil’s wrist, stopping him in his tracks. “As a favour to Emile here,” he said, nodding at the God with pink and blue eyes, “I will warn you to what the chair will do if you’re not Vergilius.” His lips quirked up. “Unless you’d like to just charge in and sit in it without knowing.”
Virgil wanted to scream, he really did. He could be told what would happen if he wasn’t Vergilius - which judging from what Emile had been saying was probably nothing good - and lose his nerve. Which might just prove to these Gods that he was an imposter and Virgil would be in for a world of pain. Or he would just go in to sit on the throne and damn the consequences.
Virgil blamed the decision he made next on how angry he currently was. There was no way for any anxiety or common sense to peek out and make Virgil nervous enough to take a second and really think about what he was about to do. Before he could fully think about what he was doing, Virgil ripped his wrist away from the smirking God and turned back to the Throne Room, stomping across the hall and ignoring the calls of Patton and Emile to wait and let them explain first before trying it.
Instead, he hoisted himself upon the Throne and sat back, closing his eyes.
It was the most comfortable chair ever. It was like someone had studied Virgil’s body and had shaped the Throne around him. The pillow on the throne felt like it was stuffed full of duck feathers and was made out of velvet. Velvet. Virgil had never even seen velvet before. It was the most comfortable Throne in the history of Thrones. Virgil didn’t know how he knew that and he wasn’t going to think on too closely.
“Okay, so, I sat in the stupid chair,” Virgil groaned as he leant forward. As sad as he was to get out of the Throne, he really wanted to go home and check-in with the rest of the townsfolk. “Can I go home now?” He froze though when he opened his eyes and saw all eight Gods standing around him and watching him with various expressions on their faces.
“I knew it,” Patton whispered a large grin on his face and tears gathering in his eyes. “I knew it.”
Roman was staring at Virgil in numb shock, tears running down his cheek. “Oh... you’re really him,” he whispered. His hand twitched like he wanted to pull Virgil into a hug but he couldn’t commit to the action. “Vergilius.”
Virgil twitched backward, leaning back into the throne. “No, I told you. My name’s Virgil. I’m not -”
“You are,” Janus said, stepping forward. He was smiling at Virgil with tears in his eyes, looking so happy and relieved. “That throne was made specifically for Vergilius and your atoms would’ve melted if you weren’t truly Vergilius. Even if you don’t remember your life as Vergilius or don’t remember us, you are our Vergilius.” His smile grew into a large grin. “Oh, Dear One, I’m so happy that you’re safe.”
Virgil blinked dumbly, feeling like everything he knew had just been turned upside down and nothing made sense anymore. He didn’t want to believe it. He just wanted to go back home, visit with Elliott, and then sleep in his own bed. He didn’t want to believe it.
But he did.
“I don’t understand,” he whispered, tears of confusion pricking at his eyes. “If I... if I really am Vergilius... then what happened? How did... where... What happened?”
Janus pulled Virgil into a tight hug, holding him so tightly like he was terrified that if he let go than Virgil would disappear. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I don’t. But we’re going to find out. And until we do, we’re never going to let something like this happen again. I promise.”
General Taglist
@mooniecoockie
@all-eyes-on-you-forever
@engineering-a-better-world
@hermitcreature
@punsterterry
@iris-sanders-athena
@heck-im-lost
@the-v-gees
@tiredfluid
@sevenatee
@i-really-dig-the-purple
@detroit-become-pan
@trust-me-i-just-get-weirder
@radioactivehelena
@max-is-tired
@unikornavenger
@amazonprimebox
@emmydragon
@thegaypasta
@lunareclipse-524
@thepotatoking1010
@bleepblopbloop56
@world-class-izzy
@violetsandpride
@smolautumnchild
@sanderssmosh-n-musicals
@cookiethedevil
@satanblessi
@figurative-falsehood
@crookedlyoptimisticdestiny
@ao-koshka
@onenightjoanly
@alsoyouremischievous
@figurative-falsehood
@mrtacothethird
@analogical-mess
@combine-the-kitchens
@knight-shives
@the-office-cat
@dark-kestrel
@lizziepopanime
@razberrypuck
@kastrefeila
@lilcutekittykat
@ladyonce
@penguinpatty1502
@analogical-mess
@incorrectqueereye
@liz-a-belle-blog
@imjustawibba
@remy-alagaesias-dragon-queen
@fandoms-winkitywonk
@therubyjailcell
@angels-and-dreams
@europa-bear
@pumpkinminette
@viva-la-pluto-dam-you
@ravens-rambling
@felicianoromano
@artemispowell
@phander-trash
@felicianoromano
@maehemscorpyus
@the-anti-virgil
@georganabanana
@kaileah-kat
@omg-rainbowgalxy-things
@chemically-imbalanced-romance
@just-another-rainbowblog
@asymmetricalgarbage8888
@imtooaromaticforthis
@ambersky0319
@th3okamid3mon
@atomicljamm92
@lovebug5151
@shadowsfromthesun
@justpicturesofsam
@fuck-perfection-be-a-mess
@dragonsworn05
@entitydark
@sparkedawg
@luckybanana948
@holliberries
@hell-or-high-waters
@paint-in-flames
@purplepatton
@opaque-puppet
@pearl-topaz
@that-smol-tired-gay
@tired-fanboy
@rachel-eve-puppet
@the-psycho-pie
@the-warfstache-of-wall-street
@pastel-puns
@shadowjag
@saphirestrike
@theatresweetheart
@gatlily
@pastelpatton
@agoddamnrayofsunshine
@ps-reblogs
@tacohippy56900
@anxious-fander-bean
@winterknight1087
@moonfang03
@that-random-fandom-girl
@cricks-loves-you
@teacupfulofstarshine
@hetaisawesome
@lilylunalovegood2002
@silverviolin069
@bubbliee0
@demigodnamedathena
@donalev
@flix-net
@sos-fandoms
@writingfeedsthedarkestones
@leesacrakon
@clone-number-1
@ninja-wizard101
@never-end1ng-suffering
@all-bridges-will-burn
@theresneverenoughfandoms
794 notes · View notes