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all1e23 · 4 years

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Between the Stars [Pt. 4]

Pairings: Past!Steve x Reader, Bucky x Reader

Series warnings: CHARACTER DEATH. Grief. Overall sadness. Depression. It’s pretty angsty if I’m being honest. Things mellow out as the series goes on. TW: Military/Spouse death

A/N: This Chapter is a Bucky chapter. Each chapter is a month since steve has been gone as a reminder. Let’s not judge Steve harshly after we learn some truths, okay? He can’t defend himself! As always for this series, flashback are italicized. If you like it write a book report, sing me a song or come scream at me. Remember not to judge everyone too harshly till all the secrets come out. ;-)

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!****

The days continued on in a way that left Bucky hoping the next would be over quicker than the last and following would be gone just as fast. He had hoped with each passing day, things would become more natural. They hadn’t, for the most part anyway. Some things seemed easier, like running to the store, going for runs, and fixing the shocks on Steve’s truck, so it didn’t have that ridiculous bounce anymore. Then there were days when he picked up the phone without thinking, dialed the number he’s had memorized nearly his whole life, only to hear Steve tell him he can’t come to the phone right now.

He left a few voicemails, but the inbox quickly filled up. Bucky assumed he wasn’t the only one leaving him messages. After long stretches without hearing Steve’s voice, it felt like one day he would get the chance to listen to them.

Bucky spent the last month trying to figure out what Steve expected of him, what the hell he was supposed to do with those damn letters, and whether or not he should be upfront with Y/n about having them. It wasn’t fair of Steve to put this on him, but it wasn’t fair that he was in love with Steve’s wife. Maybe he deserved this. Perhaps this is his punishment for betraying Steve while he was alive.

Or it was his punishment for living when Steve was the one who deserved to come home.

It was hard to celebrate being home when Bucky didn’t think he earned the right to be. Steve and Bucky had always been two halves of the same coin, polished side, and the tarnished. The dark and the light, and it wasn’t right that only one half survived -- the wrong half. That was the biggest reason Bucky avoided going home. Winnifred was so excited to have him back for good, she fawned over, and Rebecca talked about the future non-stop. She posted all over Insa-whatever and Bucky didn’t have it in him to tell them that he was the furthest thing from happy to be home. They would attempt to assure him none of what he thought was right, and Steve loved him, that Steve would feel the same if things were reserved.

Bucky knew better.

Facing his mom while Rebecca was at school would be easier, or he was hoping it would be bearable at least.

"I can't stay long. I gotta pick up Sam,” Bucky said as he returned Winnifred’s kiss to her cheek and let her smother him in a few more, hands rubbing his arms and running over his chest to convince herself, he was solid and sure in front of her. Once she was satisfied, he allowed her to nudge him into a chair at the kitchen table and make him toast with some of her plum jam; it had been a favorite of his as a kid.

Okay, adult Bucky liked it, too.

"You didn't have to come, sweetheart,” Winnifred’s soft voice was gentler than usual as she set the plate in front of him, two slices with more than an acceptable amount of scarlet tinted spread on each. He stared at it, and his stomach twisted with something he was coming to recognize easily: regret.

Steve didn’t even eat plum jam. Why did his guilt have to surface at the worst damn time?

"I know that, but I've been staying with Y/n, and I didn't want you to worry. I promise I'll come by more. She's just-- I need to be there with her."

In the rarest of truths, Bucky was hurting to be away from her right now, and they’ve only been apart an hour. Thankfully, Natasha stopped by to visit early this morning, so Bucky knew she was in good hands, and she was doing better these last few weeks. Y/n slept in his room most nights. They didn’t touch, and Bucky always stayed on top of the blanket, but she hasn’t woken up in tears since that first morning. Bucky never brought it up when he finally made an appearance that morning. That wasn’t what she needed. She didn’t need him to shed light on the things she wanted to keep hidden. Bucky knew why she cried that morning and knew what it meant for her to work through it on her own, so he wasn’t about to force her to admit all of that out loud. Just like he knew the reason she liked sleeping with him was for the warmth. It felt like she wasn’t alone.

It had nothing to do with who was thawing the cold, only that it wasn’t still there when she woke.

Nearly every night, they made dinner together, and she usually picked the menu. Which would piss Steve off because most of their fights started with what was for dinner -- Okay, Bucky might find that a little funny. Y/n seemed to be healing, albeit slower than Steve or Bucky would like. Even a bit of her sass was coming back. He caught a few laughs, plenty of smart-ass comments, and several smiles, but the hurt was still there, buried deep in her eyes. Bucky was still working on getting her out of the house. It was rare when she did, and with her career on hold, she was burning through her benefits faster than brush fire in a drought.

"I think you need her a little bit as well."

Bucky shrugged it off but with one raised brow from his mother, and his walls began to crumble.

"You look better than when we saw you last." She cupped his cheek in her hand, and Bucky immediately nuzzled her palm, soaking in the small bit of comfort. "Guilt is still there,” Winnifred murmured thoughtfully. “I'm not sure if it's over losing Steve as much anymore."

Winnifred was good at knowing what Bucky felt before he did, motherly intuition he supposed. He did feel guilt over that failure. Always would. Bucky made a promise to the most important woman in his life, and he let her down. He should have been paying attention, but he wasn't. He was so focused on that damn scarf sticking out of the back of Steve's jacket he didn't see what was coming. He should have been walking in front of him, forgetting his rank and who was leading the mission. Steve had someone waiting on him, and Bucky should have done everything he could to make sure he came home, but Winnifred was right.

That wasn’t the only cause of his guilt.

He was in love with Y/n and never told Steve. Bucky never owned up to that deception, never faced Steve with the truth, and now he was here by her side while Steve didn’t get to be. It was unfair, and it made Bucky sick to his stomach. Even with that weighing heavy on his conscience, but most of all, Bucky’s guilt came from Y/n. Because every time Y/n smiled at him, he prayed for someone, anyone to send him back to that night so he could keep her from ever becoming Steve's.

And he hated himself for it. He hated himself for still wanting her.

“I don’t know what I’m doin’, mama. Steve gave me these letters and…” Bucky sighed and yanked his hat off his head, tossing it on to the table in frustration. He wanted to hate Steve for putting this all on him, for dying and leaving Y/n's heart in his broken, blood-soaked hands, “What the hell am I supposed to do with those, ya know? How could he put that on my shoulders? I-- I don’t know how to help her. I’m no good at this.”

The truth was finally out. He was no good for Y/n.

“You are when it comes to Y/n. Always have been.”

“Mom--”

“You think I can’t see when my own son is in love? I saw it in you the first time you brought her home. Eighteen or not, you were in love, and I don't think you ever stopped loving her, hm?"

Bucky couldn't get the words out. If he said them, it made them real and made his treachery real. Winnifred tugged gently on his arm until his head fell onto her shoulder the way it would when he was a boy, her fingers slipped into his hair, and she could feel the moment the walls fell, and he sank into her comfort.

"Why didn't you ever tell her, baby?"

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut as hard as he could, hoping and praying no tears will slip past. He let out a stuttering breath and choked out in heaping breaths, "S-she deserves someone better now and back then. Someone like Steve."

"Did she say that or did you decide that you knew best and she didn't deserve to know? Didn’t deserve to make her own decision?”

The ache Bucky was feeling dulled, the claws on his throat loosened and misery disguised as hope squirmed into his chest as his mother’s words fluttered around in his head.

"I-I...”

Had he done that? Had he taken away her choice by not telling her? They would never get the chance to find out unless someone had invented time travel, and he would never stab Steve in the back when he wasn’t around to pull the knife out.

None of that mattered anymore.

"Maybe. I don't know, but the second Steve kissed her. I knew it was over, mom. She would never pick me over Steve. Everyone knew,” He paused, debating whether to admit what his heart has known for decades now. Winnifred kissed the top of his head, an affectionate nudge to continue, and Bucky blew out a breath, admitting the harsh truth he’s been carrying with him all these years.

“Even Steve knew I didn’t stand a chance next to him.”

“Hey, Trouble.”

Bucky held back his chuckle as he watched Y/n nearly jump out of her skin at the sound of his voice. Once she realized it was merely Bucky, she narrowed her eyes, and he could no longer contain his chuckle. Y/n dug an elbow into his ribs, and he feigned a groan for her sake. Bucky leaned against the railing, resting on his elbows and doing everything he could to keep his eyes focused on the water before him, not exactly where he wanted to look.

He wasn’t sure he could look at her. Not right now. Bucky’s nerves were jumping like a live wire, and he was worried if he saw her pretty eyes staring back at him, he would chicken out.

“Sorry,” Bucky said, soft and unsure. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

That was true. Bucky hadn’t meant to. He only wanted a few minutes alone with her.

“It’s okay. I’ve seen one too many horror movies. I feel like Jason is going to come up out of the lake or something,” she said with a shiver and instinctively slid closer to Bucky, letting their arms brush against each other.

Shit, she was adorable when she said things like that. Bucky grinned and leaned his head towards hers with his eyes trained on a piece of driftwood floating nearby. He took a deep breath and whispered in her ear, “I’ll protect you, Y/n. I promise I’ll always protect you.”

Bucky didn’t know why he said that. That was so utterly stupid. They were friends, and it didn’t matter what he wanted, Y/n never crossed that line or hinted that she wanted him to cross it. He should know better, but then she turned to face him, and the driftwood floating against the black water couldn’t hold his attention a second longer. He swallowed the lump in his throat and watched the way her lip reddened from the friction of her teeth, her eyes were brighter tonight under the moon, and her voice never sounded as sweet.

“Always saving me. How’d I get so lucky to have a friend like you, Buck?”

He felt his heart drop at her words. Okay. It was now or never. He had to say something because he couldn't stand this anymore. Bucky stepped closer to her and set a hand on her hip, pulling her a step closer to him. He could blame it on the cold wind that made her shiver. A gentleman, he was a gentleman. If he had to, he could still get away with claiming it was beer, and it had nothing to do with how much he loved her.

“Y/n…” Bucky licked his lips, and his hand tightened on her hip. “I, uh--”

“Yeah, Buck?” She looked up at him with wide, almost hopeful eyes -- he was probably seeing things.

“I wanted to--”

“Bucky!”

He internally cringed at the sound of Dot’s voice, and his heart clenched at the look of disappointment floating in Y/n’s eyes. Dot linked her arms in his and tugged him back away from Y/n, a flash of hurt flickered across her face, but she quickly hid it.

“Bucky, you promised we would hang out. Remember?” Dot leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “You promised to help me make Smores, show me how to melt everything just right...”

Even though Dot was trying to be considerate of Y/n standing there, it was obvious Y/n heard her lush fueled whispers. Liquor has a way of making everyone a little more brazen, and Dot was no Exception. It wasn’t her fault. It was Buckys. If he would only make his feelings for Y/n clear to her and everyone else, and stop leading other girls on, Dot and the rest of them would know they didn’t stand a chance. They would know any teasing whispers would fall on deaf ears, and all those sultry touches would never bring him to his knees while his heart was tethered to Y/n’s.

Wanda called out for Y/n, and she slipped past them before Bucky’s brain could come up with a reason for her to stay. You could tell her you love her, his brain scolded him. Bucky wasn’t listening to anything his brain had to say tonight. Clearly, because he was letting Dot lace their fingers together and drag him towards the huge bonfire that rested on top of the bank.

The fire was a good ten feet around. It was a tradition at the end of summer; everyone got together at the lake, a cool summer night full of booze, food, and music. Every year was different, sometimes it was over a hundred people, and other times they barely made it to forty. Bucky usually enjoyed himself. It was fun to let loose before the new term started, but things were different this time. He didn’t come to make-out with some pretty girl for the night and maybe make it to second base, he came for Y/n. Now, she was standing across the fire, a good twenty feet away, and there was no way she would believe any confession he gave after Dot’s performance.

Probably thought he would be wrapped around Dot, hands, and lips, which was why she was doing everything she could to avoid looking through the flickering flames towards him. Bucky was so wrapped up in watching Y/n he didn’t notice Dot walking away to grab marshmallows and Steve taking her place next to him.

If she would only look up, give him a sign he could fix it…

“I thought you liked Y/n.” Something in Steve’s voice got his attention, causing Bucky to turn to face the blond. He was nervous. “Why are you all over Dot?”

Was he that obvious? They never talked about it, but Steve knew how Bucky felt. It was an unspoken understanding between the two men that Bucky Barnes was in love with Y/n L/n. That didn’t mean he wanted everyone around them to know, and what did it matter at this point? She would never see him the way she did in his dreams.

“She’s way out of my league Steve.” Bucky’s eyes clouded, and he gave the taller man a charming smirk he usually saved for special occasions, one that would protect his heart from the truth. “I don’t think-- it’s not like that with Y/n. She's my friend. She doesn't see me that way."

Steve was quiet for a long time after that. They both stood in silence, watching Wanda attempting to make Y/n laugh. After giving up, she walked around the flames towards them, and Steve turned to face Bucky once more, gulping before asking. “So… you're okay with me asking her out?”

Bucky swallowed the knot in his throat. How did he not see that coming?

“You-- “ He squeaked, cleared his throat, and tried again with more confidence, “You, uh, you like Y/n?

He watched Steve’s gaze dart across to where Y/n was standing all alone now, looking like she was ready to bolt. Bucky knew that look anywhere. He’s seen it on her more times than he could count, but it usually involved school or facing her parents. Not once has it ever been tied to him, and that was a God awful feeling.

“Yeah,” Steve said with adoration as he gazed at Y/n, never once taking his eyes off her. “ I mean what’s not to like. She’s smart, beautiful, and constantly keeps you in check. She’s amazing.”

Yeah, I know she is. Bucky thought.

“Listen, go for it, pal.” He patted Steve on the shoulder and contrived the best smile he could muster at the moment. “ You guys would be great together. I'm, uh, I can’t stay with one gal longer than a coupla day, right?… Like I said, she's out of my league."

Steve eyed him carefully until Dot appeared back by Bucky’s side, hooking her arm in his and leaning into his side. Only then did Steve nod and left the pair on their own. He couldn’t move or speak. Bucky could only watch. He watched through the flecks of yellow and orange as Steve approached the woman who held his heart. Sam was by his side saying something, Bucky didn’t know what. He couldn’t focus on anything but the way Y/n was laughing at his best friend, and when Steve kissed her, everything in his chest hurt. There was cheering and some whistles, Bucky didn’t have it in him to pretend. Not when everything was falling apart, and his heart was being ripped from his chest.

Right then, Bucky knew whatever chance he had with Y/n was gone. In a matter of seconds, he lost her.

Bucky was running late. Winnifred insisted he finish breakfast and then forced a jar of jam in his hands on the way out the door, which led to the stain on his shirt and the first thing Sam did when Bucky picked him up was make fun of the drooping red stain gracing the breast pocket of his grey button-up shirt. Not the best way to impress someone, Bucky doesn’t have time to change, so he will have to hope his charm can overshadow the state his shirt. He glanced at Sam out of the corner of his eyes, and Sam was still staring at him from the passenger seat. Bucky cleared his throat and aggressively pushed his sleeves up to his elbows to distract himself from asking Sam what his problem was.

It was that or shoving him out of the truck. Bucky wasn’t sure which would happen if Sam kept watching him -- one or the other that was for sure. The volume on the radio dropped, and Bucky’s stomach went along with it. Not today, was all Bucky could think, please not today. He couldn’t talk about Steve today after the morning he had at his mom’s.

“You ever gonna tell her you love her?”

Bucky frowned at Sam’s question.

Okay, not what he thought, but today wasn’t a good day for this, either.

“Go up to my best friend’s wife while she’s mourning him and say hey I know you’re dealing with a lot, but I’ve been in love with you since we were kids and never said anything. What are your thoughts on that? No, man. I ain’t ever gonna tell her that. There’s no point. It ain’t gonna change anything, and she doesn’t need the added guilt.”

“What would she have to feel guilty about? It’s your guilt you’re worried about, not hers.”

The guilt for that does lie with Bucky, but she would share the burden once she knew the truth, and Bucky wouldn’t add to the pain she was already feeling.

“No, it’s not an option, okay? It stopped being an option the night they kissed. That’s it. There’s nothing to talk about.”

“I was there that night if you remember correctly. She and I talked a lot more than you did back then. She was waiting for you to kiss her then you fucked it all up--”

“Stop. Stop. If I had kissed her that night, Steve wouldn’t have. They wouldn’t have dated, never married and--”

“And things might not be as messed up as they are right now.”

Bucky’s mouth snapped shut, and he slammed on the breaks when they got to the end of the long dirt road they’ve been on for twenty minutes or so now. The truck jerked to a halt with the heaviness of Bucky’s foot, and he threw it into park, his voice was deadly quiet when he spoke again, “I don’t wanna talk about this. Ever again. She’s Steve. It doesn’t matter if he’s here or not. She’s Steve’s wife, and I’m not crossing that line.”

“Buck, that’s insane. So in five years from now--”

“Just shut up and wait here."

The truck door slammed, and Bucky was walking up the pebble filled dirt drive before any more could be said, and before Sam could ask him what the hell they were at some farmhouse two hours from home. Bucky jogged up the four light green steps of the porch and rapped his knuckles against the darkly stained oak front door. There was music playing that could be heard through an open front window, and Bucky caught a tiny voice yell for their dad. He smirked as the little girl’s voice floating along with the white curtain that was billowing out the window, “It’s some tall, really big guy, daddy.” And then she giggled, “his hair looks weird like it’s trying to be long, but it looks bad.”

He would have to tell Y/n about that later. She would get a kick out of some kid making fun of him growing his hair back out.

Bucky took a deep breath when the front door finally opened, and he straightened his shoulders, trying to remember the man he was before going to war. That guy that could talk just about anyone out of anything; he needed to be that guy again, even though it wouldn’t last beyond these front steps.

“Can I help you?”

I sure hope so, Bucky thought.

“You recently bought a piano from a young woman? Y/n L/n? It was about two months ago.”

The man stepped outside, closing the door behind him, suspicion clear in his eyes. “Yeah, I did. What is this about?”

Bucky slipped his hand into his jacket and pulled out a wad of cash thicker than his fist. He shook his head, huffing out a laugh of mixed relief and self-deprecation. Bucky explained why he was darkening the front steps to ease the wary man, “Took me forever to track you down. I, uh, I wanna buy it back.”

The stranger slowly reached their hand out to take the bills, turning them over in his palm and running a thumb over the edges. Nothing smaller than a twenty in the bunch. He wasn’t sure how much was there, but it was far more than he paid for the used instrument. Bucky could see the question in his eyes, and he was quick to assure him the deal was in his favor.

“It’s triple what you paid for it. You can go and buy a new one ten times better than that one with cash leftover.”

The man looked completely bewildered. He tapped the bills against his hands, the glint in his eye said he was ready to hand the money back and send Bucky away. Instead, he asked, “Why don’t you just buy her a new one? It would be cheaper.”

Yeah, Bucky could do that. It would be cheaper, but it wouldn’t have that chip in the back corner where he and Steve banged it on the doorframe moving it into the new house; turned out Y/n had been right, they should have gone through the backdoor. There wouldn’t be 3 keys slightly off in color because they had to be replaced four years ago, and their initials wouldn’t be written on the bottom thanks to one boring afternoon when they were teens.

“It wouldn’t be hers,” Bucky responded with a fond, slightly sad smile. Apprehension was still pouring off the stranger, bucky took a deep breath and steeled himself. He needed this, and more importantly, Y/n needed this.

“Just- please? I can’t explain it. I need to bring this one thing back to her.”

“Still seems like a lot of trouble for one old piano,” The man grumbled, but he still opened the door for Bucky to follow him inside. Bucky gave a quick glance to Sam and gave him a wave that said it was okay to get out of the truck and follow them inside. A sigh left his lips when he saw it, that old black grand piano, knicks and blemishes still shining bright in all their glory right by the front window.

“If you knew the woman it belonged to--” Bucky whispered quietly and ran his hand along the painted maple, the one promise he could actually keep “--you would understand.”

Bucky knew first hand, she was worth this and so much more.

Previous // Next

#past!Steve Rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #Bucky x you #Bucky x reader #alternate universe #modern AU #tw: loss of spouse #tw: military death #tw:depression

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opalvscent · 3 years

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– character development.

BASIC INFORMATION.

Full name: Ophelia Grace Weiss - Hebrew name (used in religious context only): Ayelet Nickname: Effie Birthdate: 29/09/87 Age: 33, going on 34 Zodiac: Libra sun, Sagittarius Moon, Virgo Rising Gender: Ciswoman Pronouns: she/her/hers Romantic orientation: biromantic Sexual orientation: bisexual Nationality: British Ethnicity: Ashkenazi Jewish / Afro-Bahamian Ranking: Angel Affiliation: Famine

BACKGROUND.

Birthplace: Amersham, Buckinhamshire, UK Hometown: Beaconsfield, Buckinghamshire, UK Social Class: Upper Educational achievements: 2:1 Honours degree in Philosophy from University of Edinburgh Father: Adam Weiss Mother: Sophia Weiss (née Rosenthal) Sibling(s): None. Pets: Rosie, a 4 year old husky. (+ too many horses for me to list them here but you all knew that already) Previous relationships: Spent much of her first year at uni with some kid from Chelsea. Told him she loved him, way too quickly, and he ended up never returning her texts. Arrests: None. Did get a parking ticket once. Cried about for a solid hour. Prison time: None.

OCCUPATION & INCOME.

Current occupation: Racehorse breeder/trainer Dream occupation: The same, but with significantly less paperwork involved. Less gang involvement would be preferable, too. Past job(s): None. She’s cut from affluent cloth and has never really had to do any real labour. Spending habits: Thinks she’s frugal, really isn’t. In debt?: On paper, no.

SKILLS & ABILITIES.

Physical strength: average Speed: average Intelligence: average Accuracy: average Agility: above average Stamina: above average Teamwork: As long as she’s not in a position where she has to make decisions on behalf of others, she’s fine. Talents: Horseriding, attention to detail, wallowing in self-pity at inconvenient times. Shortcomings: Completely spineless, indecisive, see above comment about self-pity. Languages spoken: English, Hebrew, some French. Drive?: Has a license, has not used it in a hot minute. Jump-start a car?: No. Change a flat tyre?: Probably, but it would take a little while. Ride a bicycle?: Yes. Swim?: Yes. Play an instrument?: Attended weekly violin lessons as a kid Play chess?: Badly Braid hair?: Yes Tie a tie?: No Pick a lock?: No Cook?: Pretty well, but is limited to a couple of staple dishes.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE AND CHARACTERISTICS.

Faceclaim: Zoé Kravitz Eye colour: Dark brown Hair colour: Black Hair type: 4a/4b, but has been using relaxer since her early teens. Mostly wears her hair in braids. Glasses/contacts?: Neither. Dominant hand: Left. Height: 157 cm Weight: 51 kg Build: petite Exercise habits: tries her best to practise yoga every week, but it usually falls through. jogs every morning as an emotional outlet (it’s way more socially acceptable than just full-on screaming at 6am) Skin tone: Type IV Tattoos: A daisy on the inside of her lower arm, in a tribute to her first childhood horse Piercings: Two in each lobe, tragus in her left ear Marks/scars: Freckles. A scar on her right elbow from falling off a fence as a child, two under her right knee from getting thrown off a horse Clothing style: The type to value function over form. Tends to favour classic silhouettes and colours. In other words, she’s boring. Does like a good printed coat though. Jewellery: a small, gold magen david pendant that was gifted to her by her grandmother. it never comes off. a wristwatch. Allergies: milk, penicillin Diet: plant-based, tries to keep kosher

PSYCHOLOGY.

MBTI type: INFP-T, the mediator. Enneagram type: Nine - the peacemaker ( subtype 9w1 - the dreamer ) Moral Alignment: Lawful good Temperament: Sanguine/Melancholic Element: Earth Emotional stability: Maintains composure in public, not quite as good in private. Easily overwhelmed. Prone to overthinking. Introvert or Extrovert?: Introvert. If given the option, she’d much rather enjoy her own company. Obsession: Safety, security, stability. Phobias: Death, loneliness, the dark. Drug use: None. Unless you’re counting hayfever medication, which I don’t think anyone is. Alcohol use: Social drinker. Prone to violence?: Nah. Prone to crying?: Yes. Believe in love at first sight?: Yes.

MANNERISMS.

Accent: Received pronounciation (voiceclaim). Hobbies: Horseriding, reading, crocheting, overthinking Habits: Bites the inside of her cheek Nervous ticks: Fidgets, has a hard time maintaining eyecontact Drives/motivations: Security, stability and for the needs of those she loves to be met. Subconsciously, she thrives off validation from others. Fears: Not being able to provide for those she loves. Sense of humour?: Laughs more than she makes others laugh. Do they curse often?: Every once in a while, mostly while under distress.

FAVOURITES.

Animal: 🐎 Horses. Who’s surprised? Not me. Beverage: Alcoholic? Red wine. DRC or other burgundies in particular. Non-alcoholic? Fizzy water. Book: ‘Emma’ by Jane Austen, ‘What We Talk About When We Talk About Love’ by Raymond Carver Colour: Yellow Food: Any type of soup Flower: Daisies, tulips, peace lilies Gem: Amethyst Mode of transportation: Horseback if the distance allows it, car if not. Scent: Freshly cut grass, ‘love - don’t be shy’ by killian, rosemary Sport: ..... do I need to say it? Weather: Overcast Vacation destination: Cap d’Ail, France.

ATTITUDES.

Greatest dream: financial independence, being able to do what she loves for a living without having to worry about the bottom line. probably wants world peace too. Greatest fear: failing those she loves Most at ease when: in the stables or in complete solitude Least as ease when: in cities or big crowds, doing illegal shit, basically anything she’s done while working for famine. Biggest achievement: has a silver medal from the 2011 london international horse show Biggest regret: agreeing to her current ... circumstances

#– character development.#– tasks.#do u ever look at something for so long that it becomes ... word soup #flashing lights tw #just in case !

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duchessfics · 4 years

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Business and Pleasure Part 4

(https://thefearestwolfsansa.tumblr.com/post/179527034319/medium-billie-dean-howard)

Billie x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): NSFW, Cunninlingus, D/s dynamics, Semi-public sex

Summary: After spending the night with Billie, the reader is still trying to figure out her place in Billie’s world. But she is slowly finding her footing as well as seeing parts of Billie that reveal more than just her smooth smiles and witty remarks.

Word Count: 7351

A/n: I know it’s been awhile since I’ve posted anything, but I promise I’m working on stuff behind the scenes. I just need to actually edit it all 😅 but here’s part 4! I hope you enjoy it 😌

Part 3

The blare of your phone’s alarm drags you out of blissful sleep and you haphazardly reach out to grab your phone, brushing your fingers along the cool, smooth marble surface of nightstand until they bump up against the side of your device. That’s when it registers in your mind dulled by sleep that you and Billie still hold each other close in her wonderful-feeling bed. She inhales deeply as you wince and groan at the bright light of your phone screen working to turn off the obnoxiously loud alarm.

Then she snuggles closer into your chest and mumbles against your neck, “What time is it?” Too early. You would love to stay where you are nestled. But you start to untangle from her embrace before you fall back asleep as you murmur, “It’s time for me to get up. But you keep sleeping. I’ll wake you up in a bit. Ok?”

The medium lazily reaches out for you and manages to grip your arm, but you press a soothing kiss to her forehead and retuck the covers around her while whispering, “Get some sleep. I’ll be back in a little bit.” In her drowsy state she easily lets you go and mumbles, “Ok.” And before you even grab your toiletry bag and step into her bathroom you can already hear her deep breaths of sleep in the darkness.

Once the door is shut, you flick on the fluorescent lights and shield your eyes with your hand. After a moment your eyes adjust to the bright setting and you look into the bathroom mirror. Your eyes automatically find the small hickeys on the side of your neck.

You’re definitely going to have to wear your hair down today.

The darkened skin feels sensitive when your fingers skim over it and you find your face flushing as the memories of last night come back to you. Billie is right. She does have a stamina that is unmatched, and you still feel exhausted from having sex far too late into the night.

After assessing the bruises and determining how much concealer you’ll need to use, you unlock your phone to see the time is 5:05 in the morning. You need to be out of the bathroom no later than 6:00. In an effort to stay on time you keep your clock open while rushing through your morning routine.

Fortunately you stay on time and step out to the main bedroom at 6:00 exactly. In the sliver of bathroom light you see your employer snuggled under the plush duvet with her honey-colored hair spilling over the pillow she sleeps on.

Even though you hate to disturb the peacefully sleeping blonde, you turn on the bedside lamp and sit on the edge of the bed before resting your hand on her shoulder. Then you gently shake her and murmur, “Billie, it’s time to wake up.”

She lets out a low groan and makes a big cat-like stretch before opening her eyes and huskily asking, “How much time do I have?” You scoot back a little to encourage her to sit up while answering, “About an hour.”

The medium drowsily sits up and leans back against the cushioned headboard as you assure her, “They’ll do your hair and makeup on set. So at least you don’t have to worry about that.” She reaches her hands up towards the ceiling and doesn’t miss the way your eyes catch on her nearly exposed chest due to the generous v-neck of her stain maroon negligee. And your eyes only shift to watch her her nimble fingers comb through her tousled locks.

While you look to her face she smiles at you and teases, “Can I at least get a good morning kiss?” You chuckle, shaking your head at her mischievous behavior. But seeing her look so attractive and sleepy from just waking up leads you to relent, “Ok, One kiss.” Those words make her smirk and she leans forward to meet you halfway. Her lips lazily move against yours and you feel her hands come up to cup your face. But when you go to back up, her lips chase yours and her hands keep a solid grip on your face.

You squeak in shock and manage to back up enough to mumble against her lips, “Billie.” But she quickly silences your words and shifts to her knees, so she towers over you. The now significant height difference complicates things. However you bring your hands up to her shoulders and go to push her away before your resolve melts and you run late.

But before you can move against the medium, she breaks from your lips to kiss along your jaw and neck well aware of how her lips on the sensitive skin of your neck can turn you into melted butter in her hands.

Your hands reflexively squeeze her shoulders as she keeps going and it takes everything in you to not moan. And even then your voice sounds strained when you plead, “Billie, you need to get ready or we’re gonna—”

But your sentence is cut short by your own laughter when her lips suck and tease that one ticklish spot in the bend of your neck. Before last night you never even knew about that spot. But Billie found it and has teased it ever since. She keeps going and chuckles against your skin as you beg between your laughter, “Billie, please...please don’t! You know how—ah! Ticklish I am…come on Billie! Have mercy on me!”

Thankfully she listens to your cries and moves to press one soft kiss to the shell of your ear before purring, “Sorry, sweetheart. But your laugh is just too cute.” Then she backs up and briefly pecks your lips before asking, “What time will the driver be here?” Your chest heaves as you catch your breath and your cheeks burn in arousal as you whimper, “7:00.” The blonde grins at your flustered state and teases with a smug smirk, “Well I guess I should start getting ready then.”

You watch her push aside the remaining covers off of herself and start to slide towards the bed’s edge, completely dumbfounded. However she pauses to peck your cheek and taunts with her innocent voice, “Oh, and you may need to conceal those hickeys again. That’s my bad.”

Your hand reflexively comes up to cover the love marks and you gasp, cheeks flaming as you look to Billie who grins at your embarrassment. Then she stands up and you watch her hips sway as she walks to the bathroom while saying, “I’ll see you at 7:00, sweetheart.” And when she turns back to shut the door, she gives you a flirtatious wink before disappearing.

For a moment you sit in shock at all that just happened in less than 5 minutes. You may have had control yesterday, but Billie easily took the reins back and you’re once again just trying to keep up. In the next hour you pack a bag of anything Billie may need for today before gathering your own belongings and stowing them away in your car…

By 7:00 you’re on your way to the TV studio and you pull out your phone as you ask what Billie would like for breakfast. The blonde automatically nibbles on the tips of her acrylic nails in thought while looking out the window. However she stops almost as soon as she starts, still working on amending that nasty habit she has dealt with since childhood. Instead Billie busies her hands with adjusting her designer sunglasses as she answers, “I’ll take a breakfast sandwich with eggs and bacon, an iced coffee with an extra shot of espresso and almond milk, and a cup of water too.”

After you type her order into your notes app you ask, “Do you want it from any specific place?” Her fingers flick as if she has an imaginary cigarette and she tells you to go to a local restaurant close to the studio.

Once all of that’s sorted, you open your calendar app and tell her, “The schedule for today isn’t terribly busy. You’ll be filming from 8 in the morning to 3 in the afternoon and that includes an hour lunch break and time for hair and makeup. Then you have a meeting with your producers at 4:30. It shouldn’t be too long. They’re mainly talking about plans for the next two weeks and the anticipated viewing numbers. After that you’ll go home and Candice will be there to give you a fresh set of acrylic nails. While you’re getting that done, I’ll give Jared your order and he will be cooking dinner so when you're finished it’s fresh for you to eat.”

After reading through the itinerary, you look up from your phone to see Billie staring out the window with her chin resting on the hand of her arm that’s propped up on the window ledge. Even though you said the schedule isn’t too hectic, you know this will be a long day and try to soothe, “After that you’ll be free as a bird.” The blonde lets out a sound of amusement but doesn’t smile or have a witty comeback.

But in the next moment she snaps out of it and turns to face you with a smirk on her lips, asking, “What color should I pick?”

What in the world is she talking about?

Your brows furrow at her question and you slowly answer, “Color? I-I’m not sure what you mean.” The response makes her chuckle and she replies, “For my nails.” You’re confused at this comment too. Billie only does red nails. However, rather than questioning her again, you look down and fiddle with your seatbelt as you cautiously reply, “Oh…well your red color is nice.”

But your movements still when she leans closer so it looks like she’s showing you her nails. Then she murmurs so only you can hear,

“I want better than ‘nice.’ I want something fierce, something sexy.” And she leans even closer to whisper,

“Something domineering that makes you wet just looking at it.”

Your eyes widen and you look to her, hissing, “Billie!” She laughs at how easily flustered you get and backs away to where she was while casually asking, “Do you have any ideas, sweetheart?” Her layered suggestions cause your face to burn. Meanwhile your employer doesn’t seem fazed at all. So you try to pull yourself together, clearing your throat and shifting in your seat as you reply with a strained voice, “Not at the moment.”

Your bashful demeanor makes her smile and she innocently suggests, “Well, how about you think about it and tell me tonight.” Your eyes dart to the driver, wondering if they are picking up on anything going on in the backseats. But if they are, they show no sign, looking forward and seemingly focused on navigating LA’s traffic. So you return your gaze to the medium and answer, “Ok.”

After getting Billie to the TV studio and setting her up with hair and makeup, you nearly run to the breakfast place she requested and purchase her breakfast. Then you return as fast as you can without spilling her drinks that are in your hands.

By the time you get back to the set the blonde is nearly done with her hair and makeup, but she eats her sandwich and drinks her two beverages as they work. When she’s finished you throw away her trash and less than a half hour later the cameras are rolling on Billie.

The medium looks all done up with her freshly blown out curls and immaculate makeup. She wears a fashionable outfit made up of a cream-colored tea dress with blue-green flowers printed all over it and heels that are nearly the same color as her bronzed legs. You remember her mentioning something about wanting her legs to look elongated, so the stylist suggested the choice. And let’s just say, her legs look excellent in your opinion. Between getting powdered and having her hair and clothes adjusted, Billie does multiple takes promoting her TV show and the channel.

In the middle of her filming, your phone vibrates in your pocket and you pull it out to see it’s her manager. So you step out of the working area and answer their call.

Instead of going through the formalities of greeting you, they cut to the chase and say, “Listen, I pulled a couple strings, made a few phone calls and got Billie a spot on the tonight show this Friday.” You gasp in shock and nearly drop the phone while stammering, “You—You mean the tonight show…with Jimmy Fallon?” Her manager laughs and replies, “Yeah, kid. Who else? You got what you wanted. I’ll let you tell Billie the news since it was your idea.”

You’re speechless in surprise at this whole thing, to the point that the manager asks, “You still there?” Coming back to your senses, you nod your head and quickly answer, “Yeah. Sorry about that. Thank you so much for looking into it. I’m sure she’ll be ecstatic.”

So they tell you the details of when to be there and what to expect and you write everything down in your notebook, making sure you have every detail right. Just as you jot down the last bits of information, you hear the director call for a lunch break. So you gather your stuff together while explaining, “I gotta go. They just called for lunch and I still have to get hers, but I want to thank you for everything, and I’ll make sure to tell her everything.” So they say a quick goodbye and you dash over to the spread of lunch food, grabbing some of Billie’s favorite items in addition to a cup of water.

When you have everything, you see Billie’s eyes scanning the group of people looking for you, so you make a small wave with your hand holding her silverware to get her attention. Her eyes light up in recognition and she walks over with her pleasant but artificial smile she uses while working. However when she gets closer she looks around the room while softly asking, “Can you get somewhere quieter to have my lunch?”

As an experienced personal assistant you’re used to requests like this. So even though you have no plan of action yet, you automatically nod and answer, “Of course.” Then you go to walk away, but the blond gently takes your upper arm and murmurs, “I can hold my lunch, sweetheart.”

That makes you look back to her and ask, “Are you sure? I really don’t mind—”

But she softly shushes you and takes the plate, silverware, and beverage. So you give an affirmative nod and say, “I’ll have something in a minute.” Now she gives you a more genuine smile and you run off to find a private place for her to eat.

A couple conversations later, you are holding the door open for Billie to enter one of the smaller, but quiet unused dressing rooms. After closing the door, the blonde lets out a sigh of relief at the privacy and walks over to sit in the cushioned chair where someone would normally get their hair and makeup done.

Rather than facing the mirror, she turns around to face you so the mirror reflects her honey-blonde hair. Once she’s settled you ask her, “Do you need anything else?” Billie takes a seductive bite of the strawberry she holds, and when she takes the fruit away you see a slight tint of red on her lips. Your eyes then trail down to her neck as she swallows and you can’t help but lick your own lips wishing you were the strawberry she so delicately savors. All this time the medium looks up to you with doe eyes and when she finishes her bite she purrs, “I can think of a couple things.”

You’re sure she can ‘think of a couple things.’

You let a smile slip at her seductive insinuation and answer, “No.” Your response makes her lower lip jut out and she looks through her darkened lashes while pouting, “No fun.” Now you chuckle at her shameless flirting and shake your head while telling her, “Still no. But I have something to tell you.”

She perks up at that statement and asks, “What is it?” You can’t conceal your grin as you reply, “Your manager called while you were filming and said they got you a place on the tonight show this Friday.”

Now she smiles with you and exclaims, “Are you serious? That will be amazing publicity. You’re sure it’s legit?” You nod, giggling as you answer, “Yeah. Your manager told me all of the details. You’re gonna be on the Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon!”

Your happiness is contagious and Billie laughs with you before saying, “Thank you for pushing them to do it even when they didn’t want to consider it.”

Your cheeks warm at her compliment and you find yourself looking to the floor as you reply, “You’re welcome.” After a moment you venture to look up and aren’t surprised to see her dark brown eyes looking over you. You have gotten used to the feeling...somewhat, and pull out your notebook before keeping eye contact for too long. Then you explain the main details while she eats.

When Billie finishes up her light lunch she rolls her shoulders back and sighs, “I don’t know if it’s because I haven’t filmed in awhile or something else, but I’m glad we don’t have much more to do. I feel so…tense.” The admission catches you off guard simply because she is not one to complain. However it’s in that moment a devilish idea pops into your head.

What if you could help her relax a little? People say an orgasm can relieve stress and tension. Should you offer to do that? No. But would it be amazing? Yes. No! Y/n L/n, no you need to be professional and rational—

“I think I could help you feel less tense.” You blurt out before gasping at the words that left your mouth and bringing your hand up to cover your mouth so you don’t say any other foolish thing. The medium looks up to you with a raised eyebrow and smirks at your wide eyes as she inquires, “Do you now?” Her lower voice makes your knees weak and you slowly take your hand away.

Originally you planned to use your own sultry voice. Instead you weakly squeak, “Yeah.” before sinking down to your knees.

Her darkened eyes follow your descent and she asks, “And just what do you think you’re doing, sweetheart?” You kneel beside her legs and the luxe material of her dress brushes against you. Then you do your best to look up through your own lashes as you shyly tease, “I thought I could help you...release some tension. And I won’t even mess up your makeup.”

However the moment of bravery ends and your gaze falters when you stutter, “U-unless you don’t want to. Which is totally fine as well--”

Billie softly shushes you and brings one of her hands down to cup your cheek. You automatically lean into her soft, inviting touch and she chuckles in amusement before murmuring, “I would love nothing more. Do you think 10 minutes is enough though?”

Your cheeks burn with arousal at the challenge and you nibble on your bottom lip as you nod. So the blonde sets her plate to the side where makeup would normally go and pulls her skirt up just enough for you to get up under it.

Let’s hope you didn’t overestimate your skills.

You look up to her shadowed face as you slowly kiss up the inside of one of her legs. She easily relaxes into your touch and watches you disappear under her skirt. However when you continue to press light kisses, she leans back and sighs with a smirk, “Don’t take too long with your foreplay, sweetheart. We wouldn’t want you to get caught in such a compromised posi—Fuck y/n!”

You giggle at her reaction and Billie can feel the vibration of your face since your face is suddenly buried in her folds. Rather than going through the trouble of removing her panties, you hold them to the side and lick at every part of her your tongue can reach. Her skirt obscures your vision so you can’t see her face, but the way her thighs clench up around your head and she breathily moans you would be surprised if she lasted 5 minutes.

Because you’re short on time and you really don’t want to be caught like this, as soon as you find her clit you latch onto it sucking and nibbling at a relentless pace. However she tenses up a little at the intensity and whimpers, “Jesus Christ, sweetheart, you’re gonna kill me if you keep going that hard.”

Her unusually higher tone makes you slow down a little and when your lips and tongue decide to play nicer she lets out a sigh, spreading her legs once again and relaxing further into the chair.

While the medium can’t slide her hand over your hair she uses her hands to keep her skirt out of your way while murmuring in that low voice you love, “Good girl.” And you smile against her, practically squeaking in pleasure at the praise. She chuckles at your reaction to her words of affirmation, however her voice dies off when you hear a group of crew members laughing and talking as they pass the room.

Holy fucking shit.

Billie must sense you tensing up because she soothes, “You still got 7 minutes, baby. Go ahead and give me everything you got. I can take it.” So you take a deep breath to get back in the zone and speed up your movements while her body twitches and shudders in arousal.

Within seconds her thighs spasm around your head and she lets out muffled moans, trying to keep quiet by covering her mouth with the back of her hand. There is a part of you right now that feels pretty proud of making her moan and whimper so much. However, you also know time is of the essence so you don’t tease her too much after her orgasm like you did to her last night. But you do take the time to lap up her arousal with your tongue before replacing her panties and backing up.

Upon coming out from under her skirt you see the blonde’s cheeks are naturally flushed and her chest heaves as she catches her breath. Seeing her so blissed makes you grin and after licking her excess arousal off of your lips, you ask, “Feel less tense?”

Billie gives you a breathy laugh and murmurs in her warm, rich tone, “Far less tense. You’re such a dear to me, Y/n.” Your whole body warms at her praise and while she smooths her skirt down you stand up and readjust your clothing and hair to where they were before replying, “You deserve it.”

Now you’re the one who has to look down to keep eye contact and for a moment you silently watch each other. Billie’s milk chocolate colored orbs scan over you, but it isn’t the same feeling as when she looked over you earlier. Instead of lust clouding her eyes, something else does, but you can’t tell what it is.

Then Billie goes to tell you something when someone knocks at the door before opening it a crack and peeking their head in.

The production assistant looks to Billie and quickly says, “Sorry for interrupting, but they want you back on set in 5.” She gives them her trademark friendly smile and smoothly replies, “Of course. I’ll be out in a minute.” Then the PA leaves you two alone.

After the door closes, the medium looks to you and teases with a grin, “That was close.”

Yeah. Too close. What the hell were you thinking?!

You give a nervous half-laugh in return and nod in response because the surprise of someone walking in left your throat completely dry. Then you walk over to take her empty plate and cup. Billie stands up as well, but before she walks out the door, she comes up to peck your lips and gives you a knowing wink while purring, “I owe you one.” Immediately you shake your head and stammer, “No, really. T-that’s ok. I’m good—”

But she places a finger on your lips, effectively silencing you and repeating with an arched brow, “Y/n I owe you one. No ifs, ands, or buts. Do you understand me?” Her dominant tone makes your insides melt into submission and you nod. She smiles at your agreement and pulls her finger away while saying, “Good. I’ll talk to you in a bit.” You nod again, still unable to form a coherent sentence and just like that she is gone once more.

Billie continues to film, sharing exclusive behind the scenes tidbits and making some additional promo work for the TV channel. And without prompting the director comments on how the medium seems to be glowing. Thank god she can’t see your face as you swallow your giggles by taking a drink of your second iced coffee.

Meanwhile she just smiles and throws out some random excuse. By 3:00 they wrap and she changes back into her own clothes. Then you make the short drive to the network's corporate offices and go up to one of the conference rooms filled with multiple producers and their own assistants.

You always dread these meetings because you find the producers to be pretty intimidating. However, Billie always has a natural ease and is never dissuaded by their slighted offers. She can be just as stubborn and hard-headed, if not more so.

You keep notes for her while they speak about different topics including the predicted number of viewers for the season’s premier and publicity for it. That’s when the medium announces, “My assistant actually informed me today that I have a spot on the tonight show Friday night. So that’s another opportunity for publicity.”

For a moment everyone looks at you and you would like nothing more than to duck under the table and hide. Instead you give a small smile and they all move on. But even that small moment is enough to send adrenaline coursing through you.

After going through additional upcoming interviews and events, the head producer tells her that they hired a publicity manager to help her and that they will call her after each event to make sure she’s on the right track and in the good graces of the public. Billie scoffs at that idea and asks, “Is that really necessary? I mean, my assistant has that covered.”

When answering the head producer looks to you when he says, “With all due respect,” then his eyes return to Billie’s and he continues, “This individual’s specialty is publicity. They know all the things that draw people in, how to work the crowd, and even the most effective posture to maintain during interviews.”

For a second the blonde’s fingers twitch in her desire to nibble her nails while thinking. Instead she settles for tapping the tips of them on the glass tabletop as she relents with a labored sigh, “Fine.” The producers go on to speak about tentative future plans and contracts with Billie, but don’t make any decisions yet. First her show has to perform well.

By the end of the hour, the medium is saying her goodbyes so you step out and text Candice about coming over saying you’ll be home in an hour. Then you and Billie head to the car and her driver takes you to her house.

On the car ride there she leans her head back against the plush, leather seat and closes her eyes before asking, “Did you think of a color yet, sweetheart?” Because her eyes are closed, you allow yourself to look at her hand that rests on the middle cushion and you would like nothing more than to hold it with your own.

But you turn away to ignore the desire and look out the window as you answer, “This isn’t too different, but I think pink would look good. Not like a barbie or bubblegum pink color, but a baby pink. The pastel color would suit your undertone. If you wanted something outside of the red spectrum you could try ivory or chartreuse. The colors you see in nature are generally well-suited to…”

But you cut yourself off and look down to your hands resting on your lap as you apologize, “Sorry, I was rambling.”

Billie had opened her eyes as you spoke and didn’t miss the spark of excitement in your eyes when watching your reflection in the window. You miss her smile at your words, and she soothes, “It’s no problem, Y/n. Actually I found it interesting.”

That prompts you to look over to see she smiles at you. And not that artificial one that she wears more often than not. No, this is a genuine smile where her dimples are prominent, and her eyes have an unusually warm and vulnerable tone.

Your cheeks warm at the undivided attention and you find yourself looking down to the seat’s cushions as you reply, “Thanks.” When you do venture to look up, the blonde gives you a wink and much cheekier smile. But the same genuine nature of her eyes remains and you can’t help but smile back. Both of you stay quiet the rest of the ride going between looking out the window and sneaking glances at the other.

Now that the day is wrapping up you have time to appreciate her peach-colored knee length pencil skirt that nearly matches the approaching sunset and her ivory silk blouse that buttons up the front. But she keeps the top one undone. Today she doesn’t wear her string of pearls, but does have pearl stud earrings on. And of course she wears her trademark jasmine perfume.

When you get to Billie’s home Candice is already there and greets Billie before whisking her away to the sunroom. However, before you can head to the kitchen, the medium calls out your name and curls her finger in a beckoning motion. So you dutifully follow the pair but keep back a little to give personal space.

Once you step in the room both women sit on either side of the portable nail station and Billie looks to the nail tech before asking, “Candice, honey, do you happen to have any light pink nail polishes on you?” Her brows furrow at the question, but she looks down to rummage through her kit while answering, “I think I’ve got a couple options.” And she takes out 4 bottles in various shades of light pink. Then Billie looks at you and asks, “Ok Y/n, which one would suit me best?”

Your eyes widen and you reflexively take a step back while stuttering, “M-miss Howard I’m not the one to ask. I’m sure Candice knows more than me.” The blonde lets out a low chuckle and she looks to Candice before speaking in a soft tone as if sharing a secret but loud enough for you to hear, “She’s always so formal.”

The nail tech smiles, and Billie returns her gaze to you before saying, “Hypothetically which one would you choose? Just for shits and giggles.” In working with Billie for nearly a year you are very aware of how stubborn she is. So instead of trying to resist, you take a couple tentative steps forward.

Then you look to Candice and softly ask, “May I pick them up to see them closer?” She chuckles at your timid behavior and replies, “Of course. Knock yourself out sweetie.” You smile and whisper thank you before cautiously picking up the bottles and looking them over in the evening glow pouring in from the expansive windows. As you closely observe them, the two women share a smile at your soft demeanor which is very uncommon in Los Angeles.

After a moment you carefully set each one down, but keep one separate as you say, “I think this one would be most complimentary for your undertone.” But you quickly sputter out, “But that’s just my opinion.”

Billie picks up your choice of polish and says, “I’ll use this one.” Automatically you open your mouth to protest, but after seeing Billie give you a stern look with a raised eyebrow as if challenging you to say something you clear your throat in an attempt to cover up your original sentiment and ask, “What would you like for dinner?”

Her teeth worry her lower lip for a moment and when she releases it you try to not stare at her pouty lips as she replies, “I’ll take grilled chicken and some kind of vegetable. He can pick.” Before you can do anything else that’s stupid you nod and assure her, “I’ll let him know.” Then you make your way to the kitchen to give the order to her personal chef.

As he cooks dinner you sit at the breakfast nook and catch up on the emails, phone calls, and texts for Billie so she doesn’t have to go through what can be up to 100 or more emails on a daily basis. And just about the time Jared is finished cooking, Billie saunters in with a familiar smirk on her lips.

She murmurs a warm greeting to the chef before her eyes zero in on you and she strolls over to the breakfast nook. In response you scoot over to let her in and tell her, “I’ve responded to any phone calls or emails you had. So you’re free for the night.” The blonde gives you a smile and murmurs, “Thank you, Y/n.”

Do not let one thank you ruin your composure. Keep calm, cool, and collected.

You give her your practiced smile back and reply, “You’re welcome.” Then the chef brings over two plates of her dinner choice and after pouring Billie a glass of red wine that compliments tonight’s meal and getting you a glass of water you both thank him. Of course he replies you’re welcome with a smile primarily directed towards his employer. And as you both eat dinner he collects the dirty dishes he used to cook and begins to wash them. However when you see the medium’s hand that holds her fork you notice she doesn’t wear acrylics. In fact her pale pink nails are filed down to a smooth rounded tip.

The observation makes you pause and comment, “Your nails…you don’t have acrylics on.” Now she stops eating and looks at you with a wicked grin as she smoothly replies, “I thought I could let my nails have a break. Plus they were getting in the way of…daily activities.”

Your eyes reflexively dart over to the sink where the chef washes the dishes. But he doesn’t pay attention. In fact he may not have even heard. So you return your gaze to Billie’s and her golden eyes gleam with mischief.

Well you must mean something to her. She doesn’t just take off her acrylic nails for anyone. Actually this may be the first time you’ve seen her without them on.

Your face feels hot at her explanation and you clear your throat only to squeak, “Oh.” It’s at that moment the tap water stops running making you both look to see the chef drying his hands. Then he looks to Billie and says, “I put the leftovers in the fridge and the soap is already in the dishwasher so all you have to do is put your dishes in and press start. Do you need anything else?” She gives him her trademark smile and replies, “I think we’re good. Thank you so much Jared. Have a good night.”

His eyes flicked over to you when she said ‘we’ and even you are taken aback by your inclusion. For the most part, a personal assistant is a shadow of their superior. A helpful shadow, but a shadow nonetheless. However both of you keep quiet. You’re not about to correct your boss and he isn’t either. So he gives the medium a smile and tells her good night before gathering his things and walking out.

Once he’s out of the room, Billie snakes her arm around your waist and pulls you as close to her as possible. Being tucked into her side fills you with a warm feeling of safety and security that you haven’t really felt before. Or at least not in a long time. Her heat radiates through the layers of both of your clothes and you’re tired of resisting what you truly desire. So you let out the breath of resistance you’ve made yourself hold since the car ride home and relax into her.

Anytime you’re wrapped up in Billie’s embrace, she no longer feels like your employer, but a lover. And the burden on your chest of keeping professional is alleviated if only for a moment. She hums in approval when you lean into her and you feel the reverberation of her sound within yourself as if you’re one. At the same time her thumb casually brushes up and down your side in a steady motion.

You look to her face, studying her profile as she drinks the rest of her wine and sets down the glass. Then the blonde turns to you so your faces nearly touch, and she unabashedly looks to your lips with sultry hooded eyes.

Just having her undivided attention drives you wild and you whimper in need making her let out that wonderfully low chuckle of amusement. As she presses her lips against yours you end up getting a taste of her wine and the flavor layers perfectly with her already sweet taste. You let her lead, twisting your body towards her so your chest rests against hers and in the process your hand comes up to cup the side of her face.

Her lips smile against yours at the tender touch, provoking you to smile too. And the tips of your fingers lightly thread through her silky locks, but you stay gentle today and don’t tug at her.

Billie is the one to break the long-lasting kiss and both of her arms wrap around your middle so you feel her hands on the small of your back and she pulls you closer so you’re flush against her body. Then the tip of her nose brushes against the tip of yours while she whispers, “Stay the night.”

You would love to. God you want to stay so, so much. But you haven’t packed anything at all and you’re flying to New York City tomorrow.

So you close your eyes and go against everything you desire as you whisper, “I-I have to pack for New York. I’m sorry Billie.” She gently shushes your plea for understanding by pecking your lips and her thumbs make small circles against the small of your back. Then she gently soothes, “It’s ok sweetheart. We’ll have plenty of time to catch up in New York.”

Her forehead feels comforting against yours and you venture to open your eyes. However you bite your lip and rasp, “Y-you’re not mad at me, right?” The question makes Billie hug you closer and give your cheek a comforting kiss before answering, “No. I would never be upset at that.” Then she leans in to place feather-light butterfly kisses along your cheek while saying, “Ok?”

Her concern and touch relieves your nerves and you nod while whispering, “Ok.” After your soft affirmation the medium pulls back enough for you to see her beautiful smile. You smile back and feel warmth blossom in your chest when she purrs, “There’s that gorgeous smile.”

Then she lets you backup a little so you can breathe. Even though you turn your head away from Billie to finagle your phone out of your pocket, your body stays close as you tell her, “There’s a couple things to go over before I leave.” Billie’s lips move to rest against your temple and her voice vibrates against your skin as she murmurs, “Fire when ready.”

You smile at her comment and look down to your screen before saying, “You’re personal trainer will be here at 7:30 for a 60 minute session so you’ll have enough time for a—”

But you pause as her lips start to make a slow and deliberate descent down the side of your face and ask, “Are you paying attention?” The medium smiles against your jawline and replies between gentle kisses, “Of course.”

In an attempt to get her attention, you turn to face her effectively removing her lips from your flushed skin and ask, “Then what did I say?” She comes back up to peck your lips and answers between small kisses, “Personal trainer is coming. 7:30. 60 minutes.”

After the last peck you respond with narrowed eyes, “Ok.” Then you turn back to look at your phone. Billie takes the opportunity to start kissing down your chin and along your jawline as you try to keep on task when saying, “Because your session ends at 8:30, you’ll be able to take a quick shower.”

However you pause again when Billie’s lips start to travel down to your neck, sucking at your sensitive spots like no one else can.

And before you can even ask she pauses to murmur against your skin, “I’m listening, sweetheart.” The reverberation of her words sends shivers down your spine and your voice is weak and shaky as you continue, “But don’t take too long because your driver—Ah! Wait Billie not again!”

The blonde laughs against that one ticklish spot before teasing, “The driver what?” You squirm to get away, but she easily keeps you pinned up against her as you giggle and plead for her to stop. In response Billie says against that sensitive spot, “Finish your sentence and I’ll stop.” Your eyes get misty from laughing so hard and you whimper, “The driver—ah, Billie!—will be here—No! Please! They’ll be here at 9! Ok!”

Finally she grants you reprieve and backs up to look at you with a wicked grin, cupping your heated face with her hands while you gasp for air. But she doesn’t give you a long break, skimming her thumbs along your flushed cheekbones as she taunts, “You seem so tense, y/n. But I think I know a way to help you out.”

You’re sure she does know a way to ‘help you out.’

Before you decide to stay here for the night and forget this trip altogether, you breathily plead, “I’ve got to pack.” The blonde smiles at your voice and pats your cheek while mimicking your innocent tone from earlier today, “Oh don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll be 10 minutes tops.” Now you chuckle at your own idea from earlier being used against you. By now you can actually breathe and whimper, “Billie—”

But she kisses your lips and purrs, “I owe you from earlier.” Then she moves to place her hands on your shoulders before gently pushing you to lay back on the cushioned bench.

Of course you could totally stop her at any point if you wanted to, but her methods of seduction worked and the only thought that crosses your lust-clouded mind is how good Billie Dean Howard’s tongue is going to feel on your already soaked pussy.

Once you’re completely laying down you tell her in what should be a stern voice but sounds more like a moan, “Only 10 minutes.” By then the medium is already undoing your pants but pauses to look at you with a devilish grin as she replies, “Oh baby, you’ll be lucky to make it 5 minutes.”

Part 5

Tagged: @marilynroselleprentiss, @saviorinsilk, @chokemepaulson, @versonstar, @find-me-a-constellation, @cordwliagoode, @psychobitchtess, @midnight-lestrange, @mysweetdelia, @venablesbitch, @peachesandlesbians, @nerdaroo, @cordeliafoxxe, @leskaksel, @lovelymspaulson, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @whatabluddymess, @natasha-danvers, @saucy-sapphic, @marvelfansince08love

Let me know if you would like to be tagged in later works!

#AHS #ahs fanfic #ahs imagine #ahs murder house #ahs hotel #ahs apocalypse #ahs billie dean howard #billie dean howard #billie dean howard imagine #billie x reader #Business And Pleasure

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neverendingstories00 · 4 years

Text

Past The Point Of No Return (Ch.3)

Summary: Safin takes you on a tour of your new home and offers an interesting proposition.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: n/a

A/n: Guys, sometime needs to take my labtop away. Safin is 100% going to be the death of me. I cannot stop thinking about this pyscho man PLEASE rearrange my guts. Anyways, school is starting for me tomorrow (today since i’m posting this at like 2:30am). I’ll try and get Ch.4 out asap since that’s where the drama is gonna rise. Also, thank you for all the support and comments! I’m gonna respond to them all tomorrow, I promise. I love ya’ll and enjoy the story!! ❣️❣️

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

Three days had gone by. You refused to leave your room after Safin’s temper tantrum. Three days in isolation weren’t the worst thing in the world even if you had no idea where you were. The room Safin had given you was elegant and bigger than your old flat. It was like if Japanese Zen had met modern times. A living room with endless books and plants connected to a bedroom and large bathroom. You felt like you were in a fancy hotel. Inside of the bathroom was a freestanding club that outlook a rock garden. Of course, you had tried to break the glass or crawl out one of the closet vents, but everything had been locked shut. At one point, you had felt the room had been made just for you (which it probably had been). Safin must have had a lot of time on his hands to be able to construct it. The books that were on the shelves were the same books you owned a home, the candles were all lavender and cherry blossom, and even the small amount of clothes he had offered and gotten your sizing in were accurate to your taste. It was oddly amiable, but alarming that he knew so much about you.

As you finished making your Feng Shi bed, you heard a gentle knock at the door. With years in the military, you had recognized footstep patterns. Safin had light but quick footsteps, his boots always making a clicking noise.

“Good morning Y/n.” He says, his cold accented voice slightly muffled behind the door. “I wanted to come and apologize for my uncivilized manner a few nights ago. I didn’t realize that you would be in such a sensitive state. I believe adjusting to new surroundings can be quite difficult. The way I acted certainly didn’t help with that. I did not mean to frighten you.”

Rolling your eyes, you didn’t even want to respond. If you could survive on your own in the wilderness for a month, then you could survive in a lavish bedroom in the middle of god no’s where until-

Oh right. There weren’t coming.

“It truly bothers me that you feel the need to isolate yourself in that room.” Safin. Instead of sounding condescending, he seemed genuine and even beseeching. “You haven’t had anything to eat or drink.”

“I’m fine, thank you though.” You coldy reply, seeing it as a facade. Safin was an anarchist, insane and cruel. “You’re a solid actor though, I’ll give you that.”

Safin sighs but doesn’t give in to anger or defeat. “For what I did to you, you have every right to upset at me. I’m upset at myself. I’m sorry for scaring you into isolation, my dear. It was not my intention.”

You refuse to respond, crossing your arms as you hear him let out a loud sigh. Safin looks at the nearest object to throw in frustration but stops himself for her.

“Y/n, I need you to understand that under no circumstance, that I will ever hurt you. You are a resident, not a prisoner. I want to show you my..” He freezes. It’s not a home, it’s a lair. But for y/n’s sake, it was there home. “I mean, our home. It will be short, and I will get you something to eat. After that, I will not bother you if you accompany me for just one hour.”

Two sides of you were battling with each other. The younger and more stubborn part of you wants to say a snarky remark and tell him to kindly fuck off. But the wiser and more calm side of you says that your starving and need to get out. You don’t sympathize with his actions and hate him more than anything in the world. The man threatened to hurt your friends and family if you didn’t obey his commands. But If he was going to hurt you, then why hasn’t he killed you yet? What was the point of keeping you there, knowing that you could possibly kill him with anything? Safin has stalked your whole life, from your clothing sizes to your military history.

You freeze as your fingers fiddle with each other. Letting the villain win always bothered you. But he offered you food and freedom for an hour. He had better kept to his promise. Looking at the door, you break the silence. “I’ll be ready in five minutes.”

He responds, “Take your time.”

Walking over the closet, you look at the outfits organized by monotone colors. Everything seemed the same as you searched for something that wasn’t oversized on you. Eventually, you came down to wearing a black turtleneck, light grayish blue kimono jacket, and olive peg pants with black boots. The clothes were oddly comfortable and looked more expensive than your shitty flat. You hated wearing tight and revealing clothes, so it was doable. Looking in the mirror before you leave, you see your eyes. They’re tired from crying and sleepless nights. Your body had no energy as your stomach rumbled and throat thirsted for water. The last person you wanted to see was Safin, but you truly had no choice.

Opening the door, you see him standing in front of it with a straight posture and hands behind his back. A subtle smile appeared on his face, seeing you walk out.

“You look lovely, y/n.” He compliments as you walk side by side. He thought you could pull anything off and still looking amazing. You looked at him and nod, a silent response of “thank you”.

As you walk down the hallway, Safin noticed y/n limping more than walking. He made sure Serrano and his men had there asses yelled at. They had done everything they weren’t supposed to do; treat you like an animal, hurt, and embarrass her. No wonder y/n hated him, he thought she was going to be a prisoner or some toy for Safin to fiddle around with. As much as Safin yearned for her beauty, he saw her talent and intelligence. She would be useful in many ways.

In an attempt to be a gentleman, he held his arm out for her for support. Y/n, being the woman she was, silently and polarity declined this offer. Safin found it darling that she was so stubborn, refusing the help of others even if she needed it. Seeing you limp and silently groan made Safin’s stone cold heart drop. He wouldn’t be a gentleman if he didn’t help this sweet, little y/n. In a devilish move, Safin tucked his arm under her hand, linking them both. Her clutched fist dangled in his tight hold, wanting to resist. Seeing her [y/s/c] burn up, Safin softly smiled at her. She eventually gave him as her fist unclenched, softly leaning onto him.

The hallways were long and large, lit by hidden lights. From what you could tell, it seemed like an abandoned Russian military site that had been reconstructed by Safin. It was all concrete and void of any color or life. The Architecture was Raw, brutalist, extraordinary. Taking you up a dark hallway, Safin showed you a bright hallway, full of mustard yellow art. Leading you under a dark tunnel, it revealed a large, empty room. In the middle of the room was a large low black table with cushions, and that was it. On the sides were rock gardens full of shrubs and bamboo. You could hear a running river disconnect the gardens from the concrete gray floor. A few guards stared at you for linking arms with Safin. Seeing them whisper made you look down. Safin had noticed and looked at the men, who had fear in there eyes as they stood straight.

Safin explained that his room was where he and Serrano (or other co-workers in his words) would discuss their ordeals. He saw the light in y/n’s slowly disappear, seeing her thoughts run to something else. There wasn’t really much to show considering that Safin was the only man who inhabited the submarine pen. The soldiers and Serrano resided on another part of the island. He didn’t want to bore y/n but wanted to make sure she was adjusted with her new home.

“Are you enjoying everything, my dear?” He asked, Y/n looked up and nodded in response. She looked exhausted and upset, trying to hide it. Her once glowy [y/s/c] skin was turning lifeless and grey. Safin could see that you were miserable and depressed. He knew being trapped in the submarine pen wasn’t ideal, he had been doing it for years and was ever so alone. Having the company of a woman was something he desired more than anything. Over the years his man had brought him women, but they refused to lay with because of his scars. Safin hated seeing the once joyful and bright light he saw in you.

No words came out of your mouth. You once again nod in response, forcing a faked and sad smile. Safin heart breaks seeing you so silent and upset. His grasp tightens on your arm, to squeeze some reassurance into your dying soul.

“My dear, please speak to me.” He gently cooed, looking into her [y/e/c] orbs.

“I’m fine, just please continue…” You sigh in frustration.

Not knowing what to say, Safin simply continues. It had been years since he had touched or even been close to a woman. Having you here with him was a dream come true. He hated having you sleep all by yourself that was in the opposite quarters of him. All he could imagine was y/n’s soft cries into her pillow from giving up on life. He knew what would hopefully cheer you up. Walking up a spiral staircase, Safin opened the door for you to exit. Upon exiting, you were greeted with a beautiful view. Safin allowed you to walk to the edge to admire the breathtaking view. Not one cloud was in the bright, blue sky. The top of the submarine pen was covered in the island’s rich plants. You truly were in the middle of nowhere, you could have been in the Medaterrian or off the coast of Africa. The Island was so beautiful on the outside, yet so depressing and ugly on the inside. The sun shined onto your skin as you felt the gentle breeze through your hair.

You stand on the edge, seeing that the only island in the distance was you. You were surrounded by miles of water, along with the world’s most feared Anarchist. “It’s so..”

“Breathtaking.” He breathed, standing right behind you. You turn around, somewhat scared by how close he was. Your [y/e/c] met with his milky orbs. His face was grey and dark, his sleek black hair, and dark navy clothes were so dark except for his eyes. He had an usual and exotic face. But his eyes were beautiful and mesmerizing. “Just like you, my dear.”

You huff, rolling your eyes. What had been a nice moment turned into Safin trying to subtly flirt, or so that’s what you thought. “Can you please call me y/n?”

A small frown appeared on Safin’s arms. He’s confused about why you don’t enjoy his attention. “Why not, my sweet?”

“Because I’m not your partner,” You clarify. The way those words rolled over his lips made you squirm and your cheeks burn.

“Whatever you say, my little dove.” He smiles, holding you close. A disgusted “ugh” escapes from your mouth. The time you had outside makes you feel somewhat better. Feeling the sun and wind against your skin felt so normal in your little fucked up world.

Safin tried to pull you closer to him, but you pull away. Even if he was trying to be a “gentlemen’, he was still an anarchist who wanted to kill millions and overthrow the government. All you knew was that you weren’t going to fall in love with him, ever. You shrug him off, looking away from him.

“How did you find this place?” You ask to break the silence.

“Me and Serrano discovered this place when I had left Spectre,” He explains, looking around the gardens before back at y/n. “It was an abandoned communist Submarine Pen. Nobody inhabited it, so I simply took it as my own. I was based in Okinawa before I denounced, so I took slight inspiration from the gardens.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Denounced Spectre?”

“One of my targets resurfaced, a young woman. A woman who I spared...who I loved,” Safin stated, “I had let them go and let them live a comfortable life. She promised herself to me, but loved another man...and birthed his child when she was mine. Spectre wanted her alive, I wanted her and her whole family dead. When they didn’t let me kill all of them, I killed every agent I could. All of them.”

Chills had been sent down your spine. When Safin didn’t get his way, he used violence. You never knew Spectre’s downfall, but all along it had been his man. No wonder Bond was able to take them down; it was all because Safin had practically murdered half of them in a rage since he couldn’t kill his ex-lover’s family. Your thoughts began to race. If you didn’t do as Safin pleased, would he truly kill you? Who could have ever loved someone such as Safin? Too many questions came to your mind.

“So, that’s what you do.” You noted, raising your eyebrows. “Kidnap women and force them to fall in love with you?”

Safin’s face scrunches up with anger, “No, she was different. She was a whore. I never hurt her. I spoiled her and loved her. She betrayed me. But you...” He looks at you with his expressions softening. “Are different. Out of all the women I have encountered, you y/n...are different.”

“That’s all you men come up?” You snort, staring right into his eyes. “Say that were different and then only use us for our bodies? You’re different, Safin. If you don’t get what you please, you act out. You use violence and kill.”

Safin looked at y/n, seeing the smirk on her face. She knew how obsessed he was with her, the anarchist obsessed with the cyrptographer. Safin had no intention of killing you and couldn’t bring himself to kill the woman he was madly in love with. Instead of becoming upset, he saw through you. All y/n was doing was poking the bear, refusing to give into Safin. Safin knew her antics all too well.

“Your hands are not clean either, y/n,” He debated. “Three hundred and thirteen men is a large kill count for such a young woman…”

In your short time in the military, you had achieved one of the highest kill counts in your ranking. Everyone knew you as the girl who never missed. From surviving alone in Serbia and crawling out of building rubble in Iraq, you were respected and feared. But that had been in the past when you still were young and had sanity. Now you were older, wiser, and even more broken. The military had changed your life drastically.

Safin truly knew how to dig under your skin and make you upset. He wanted to see you weak and feel stronger. You refused to let him. A small voice in your head kept telling you, “ Don't play his game. Play yours.”

“ Safin, you’re the most accomplished stalker I’ve ever met” You chuckle. He’s oddly smiling like nothing was wrong.

“A beautiful bird cannot freely fly in a cage.” The anarchist response, a small smile on his face. He relinked your arms as you walked back inside of the submarine pen.

Safin saw y/n, once acting up again. Seeing her make small “hmphs” and look away softly made Safin chuckle. He kept telling himself that with time, she would fall in love with him. Y/n was a young and stubborn woman who didn’t go down without a fight. Once Safin had her, he wasn’t going to let her go. Y/n was all Safin’s now. All the anarchist ever desired was to have company in his lonely lair. Not only someone to love but someone he could talk to and even work with. Y/n was the woman of his dreams who he had yearned for. She had to fall in love with him. She didn’t have another choice.

Safin let her slide away but still kept their arms linked. A part of him wanted to carry her to there next location, but he knew that she would probably punch him. In his spare time, Safin spent hours preparing the submarine pen for Y/n’s arrival. The bedroom was designed to fulfill her needs, but that wasn’t the only place that was meant for her.

“Close your eyes,” He says as you arrive at a large door.

You look at him and raise an eyebrow, immediately protesting. “Your going to trap me in a room where I cannot escape, aren’t you?”

“You are a guest, not a prisoner.” Safin reminded. You roll your eyes, deciding to go alone. Closing your eyes, Safin’s opens the door and leads you in. Taking small steps into the room, you can bear water running and birds chirping. A light that wasn’t artificial was projecting onto your skin. Opening your eyes, you couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

You were inside of a large glass atrium that had an open ceiling, showing the sun and cherry blossom tears. Their sakura petals fell into the garden, a few landing on your clothes and hair. Like all of the other gardens in the submarine pen, it was inspired after a Japanese Zen Garden but with color. There were Cherries, Bamboo, Camellias, Lavender, and a range of other flowers. Out of all of the places in your cold and unwelcoming home, this place had shined the brightest. It brought a true smile onto your face. Letting go of Safin, you walk down into the shrubs and are greeted with a small pond and a chabudai with a teapot and two cups.

“Would you like to have some tea?” Safin offers. You turn around and nod, a smile still on his face. Your not smiling at him, but the beauty of the garden. Before, the flat you had lived in was too small to host a garden (you also lived in the heart of Chelsea). As a substitute, your garden was a bunch of homemade terrariums and flowers. It felt like ethereal heaven.

The two of you sit down in the garden. Safin loves to see you so memorized with all of the plants. He had been in your apartment a few times when you weren’t there. He didn’t know how you managed to live in such a contained space. He had noticed all of the flowers and candles you had kept around and tried to replicate it best. He wasn’t doing something for himself, but his y/n.

“ Your smile is like the flowers in the spring.” He compliments. You look at him as you admire the diverse range of flowers that surround you. “It’s divine.”

“Oh..” You say as you feel your cheeks burn. This man was not going to stop until he got what he wanted. Safin went from kidnapping you to giving you a beautiful garden, along with subtle flirting. You weren’t really into dating much and never were hit on, even if you were a young woman. “Um, thank you..?”

He pours you a cup of Chai tea, and the two of you sit there, drinking in silence. Safin refuses to take his eyes off of you, admiring your every breath you take. Seeing you look at the flowers, fiddle with the cup, and small strands of hair fall into your face as you push them behind your ear. Everything about you was so magical to Safin. No matter what, Safin was going to make y/n fall in love with him. The two of you had enjoyed your tea in peace. Out of all of the madness, being in the gardens brought you peace.

Safin had let you enjoy the moment until he asked the question that he had been pondering about. “Do you love me?”

You nearly spit your tea out. Safin had been subtly flirting with you, but hearing him say the world love made you nearly choke. His face looked surprised, waiting for an answer. You had barely been around this man for a week, and he was already claiming he loved then. Then again, he did stalk you.

“I..um..no?” You spit, furrowing your thick eyebrows. The question had caught you completely off-guard.

Safin smiles, nodding at the response. Although upset at your answer, he knows that you will eventually have to give into him. Safin always got what he wanted, no matter the cost. “Fair enough, you will come around with time.”

The younger and more stubborn part of you would have loved to throw the tea into his hideous face and beat him. But it wasn’t so simple. Safin was a dangerous and mysterious man. The reason Europe was probably going to go into a civil war was because of him. M16 was probably going to have it’s a downfall because his blood became tainted on your hands. Not only were your friends were at risk, but so was your family. Safin had made a threat that if you didn’t comply, then he would...hurt them for you to love you. You couldn’t love a man that would hurt your family and drag them into your mess.

So you did the selfless act. You, a young woman, sacrificed yourself to Safin so your family could be safe from him. You would comply but at a price. No matter the cost, you wouldn’t give Safin exactly what he wanted.

Y/n was giving him the silent treatment again. Her face scrunched up as she looked away, annoyed.

“More like a thousand years.”

“Listen to me, my dear. I will strike a deal. Every night, I will ask you at dinner if you love me. Tell me no as much as you want. I don’t care how long it takes for you to come to your senses.” Safin proposes his plan. He sees y/n’s sudden interest with his “idea.”

“And when I do?”

“The next day will be your wedding day.”

Your jaw almost drops to the ground. Safin was an insane man; you already knew that. He was delusional enough to think that you were going to love him, but marry? That was a whole other level.

“You told Q in Athens you wanted to fall in love before you married, so I have given you however long you need.” He reassures. “But I know it will happen.”

You look at him with pure hate in your eyes. Words could barely process in your mind. You clench your teacup so tightly that you don’t even care if it begins to burn your palms. Safin had a smile on his face. He stood up and walked over to you, helping you up.

“I can get up myself, thank you very much,” You grumble as you walk ahead of him. Safin catches up and walks right beside you, seeing your anger. He pulls you closer than he did last time, tightly holding onto you. He knew that you weren’t going to protest if your family and friends were on the line. As you walk back to the bedroom, you feel relieved since being with Safin is emotionally exhausting. You mentally declare that he is one of the most insane men you had ever come across.

He stops in front of the door. A pissy “goodbye” leaves your mouth before Safin takes your hand, spinning you around. Your faces are even closer now. He smells like an expensive cologne with his haunting, big green eyes. The scars on his face aren’t burns, but horrid cuts that mutated his whole face. His hands were cold and rough from all of the scars. Safin doesn’t speak at all and just looks at your face in a creepy manner.

You feel his fingers brush against your skin as he puts a camellia behind your hair. Safin backs away, a smile on his face as he adores you. Out of all of the gloom in his life, y/n was ever so bright. She had been caught off guard when he placed the flower in her hair. His beautiful bride to be.

“I thought it would go well with your hair,’ He purrs as his fingers stroke it. “Anything would look lovely on you.”

Holding back at eye-roll, a soft sigh escapes your lips. “Thanks…”

“I hope you enjoyed our time together. The garden is for you and only you. Feel free to wander as you please. After all, this is our home now.” He slowly backs away, seeing your eyes watch him disappear down the fall. “I will be pack to pick you up for dinner at seven. Goodbye, my sweet y/n.”

Once he disappeared, you retreat back to your room and slam the door. You see yourself in the mirror with a bright flower in your hair. The hair you had combed had been touched by Safin, making you cringe. As much as you hated him, this new place was your home. This would be your life from now on, whether you liked it or not. Your family and friends’ lives were on the line. It wasn’t such a horrible life. The submarine pen was void of all life but lavish. If being in love with Safin meant your mother and sister would be safe, then so it be. You couldn’t believe you, a simple cryptographer, was the Anarchist’s, true love. Sighing in the mirror, you ask yourself a question that will never be answered.

What the hell had you gotten yourself into?

#rami malek x reader #safin x reader #safin #rami malek #no time to die #james bond #my writing

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winter-soldier-vibes · 4 years

Text

All I ever do is run (Bucky x depressed reader)

All i ever do is run

Bucky x depressed reader

Word count 1576

Warnings: depression

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You were a happy person. You loved being around people, making them laugh, and you lit up any room you walked into. You were high energy and hard working. And you were always there for the rest of the team in the Tower, helping them get through the roughest times and the hardest missions. Everything was perfect. Except for one thing

It was all a lie.

You didn’t know when it started or why it started - although you had some solid assumptions - but what you did know was that you couldn’t talk about it. Or maybe you didn’t want to. Or maybe you were too scared to. You didn't really care, as long as you kept it hidden. And so, you put on this façade for everyone. Fake smiles replaced your real ones without a trace. No matter how much you wanted to stay in bed, you forced yourself to face the day. Even if that meant getting up before the sun to train with Steve. And if anyone ever suspected anything, you’d laugh it off and change the subject.

And you made it by pretty well. And by that, you meant no one had caught onto your act yet. It had been at least….4 months since it started? Again, you weren’t quite sure what the trigger was. But inside...it had started taking its toll on you.

You weren’t really sleeping well anymore. Or at all. You used a concealer to hide the dark circles under your eyes that showed pure exhaustion. And on top of that, you were also emotionally exhausted. Being happy was hard work, and it was becoming a second full time job for you. Your energy was weening, and you had mellowed out to slightly below normal energy levels. It was becoming immensely difficult to contain the sadness that was eating you alive with each passing day.

Maybe you did want to tell someone. But you didn’t feel like you could,

So you kept it inside, smiling when anyone was looking but dropping it as soon as you went behind closed doors. And some of the team was starting to worry about you. Steve was the first, but he was always worried about everyone on the team. Bucky too, but he noticed because he, well….He was developing feelings for you. Not that you knew - if you did, maybe you wouldn’t be trying to suppress your own feelings for him. He didn't say anything, because he wasn’t entirely sure what was bothering you, or if you really were just tired. But pretty soon, he would have his question answered

You got the text from Steve at 2:43 in the morning:

Mission. Hostage situation. Meet us on the roof. We leave in 15.

You groaned in response. It's not like you were sleeping anyways, but you were so goddamn tired. The kind of tired that you feel aching in your bones, that no amount of sleep could cure.

You rolled out of bed because you didn’t really have a choice at the moment. It took you 5 minutes to suit up and head up to the roof, where Steve and Bucky were waiting. You were just waiting on Nat now.

“Y/N, you feeling okay?” Bucky asked

You wanted to groan, but that would give you away. It was way too early for this kind of thing. “Yeah Buck. I’m fine.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look...awful.”

You shot him a glare. “Gee, thanks. I just woke up. But really,” you shook your head and shrugged, “I’m just tired.”

He looked at you with concern written all over his face. “Yeah, I gathered that, but you look like you haven’t slept in days. Weeks even.” It was now that you realized you had forgotten to put a concealer on. This was the first time anyone was seeing the dark circles under your eyes. You looked away trying to figure out a way to talk around this, but just then Nat came on the quinjet and you prepped for launch. Before you could say anything, bucky said softly, “We’ll talk about this when we get back.”

Great. That gave you approximately 4 hours to think of some excuse. And around 3 of those hours were going to be spent kicking HYDRA ass.

The battle was brutal, and you nearly made 3 lethal mistakes because you were distracted thinking about this impending conversation you were going to be forced into later. Nothing serious happened, but you got a few more gashes than was necessary had you been more focused.

Steve was obviously worried about you, giving you his Cap speech on reckless behavior on the ride back, but you tuned him out, merely nodding along. You were still thinking about the excuse you still hadn’t come up with. And you kept stealing sideways glances at Bucky, who you would catch staring at you as if trying to figure out what was wrong.

When you landed, you booked it down to your room, the sun now rising. You heard footsteps following you, but you didn’t really care. When you got to your room and moved to close the door behind you, something blocked the way. You looked up to see Bucky with his foot jammed in the doorway. You sighed and looked away. “Please, Barnes, can’t this wait? I told you I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine, doll.” he offered, noticing how evasive you were being. How much you really didn’t seem to want to have this conversation. Which made him believe it was every bit more necessary to have it.

You tried again, desperation setting in. you felt like you were going to break any second. “Please Bucky just...not right now, I can’t…” you took a breath, unable to finish your sentence without crying.

“Y/N, what are you trying to run away from?” You looked up at him when he said this, and you could feel your hands start to shake. “Because it isn’t working. And I’m really worried about you.”

And that was when you realized.

All I ever do is run…

Tears started pooling in your eyes and you staggered back, and Bucky took that as an invitation to come in. He closed the door behind him and he either hugged you or caught you as your knees buckled. Both happened at the same time. Sobs overtook your body and you clung to his suit, dirty with sweat and blood, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t hide this, you couldn’t run any longer.

Bucky held you tightly, a bit taken aback by the sudden wave of emotion. He had known you had been hiding something, but Christ, this was way worse than he thought it would be. He held your trembling body as you cried, you repeating “I’m sorry,” nd him shushing you, and telling you that it was going to be okay.

How long you sat together on the floor,you weren’t sure. But eventually your tears slowed and your breathing became more even. After a few more minutes of sitting there in the silence, your eyes widened with realization.

What the FUCK had you just done?

You tried to wriggle out of the embrace, stumbling over your words, “I- I’m sorry Buck, y-you weren’t s-supposed to see that…” Buck only tightened his grip on you, saying “Stop that. You’ve been holding this in for too long. I noticed something was wrong, but I didn’t realize how bad it was. I’m sorry Y/N.” You looked down as he pulled back to look at you, still keeping a gentle grip on your shoulders. “You aren’t sleeping are you?” You shook your head. “Do you remember the last time you slept?”

You shook your head again and croaked out a “No…”

You heard him sigh, but it wasn’t in annoyance or exasperation, it was more because he was mad at himself for not saying something sooner. “What else has been going on?”

Before you could stop yourself, you whispered “Me.”

“What do you me-”

“You asked me what I’m trying to run from.” You met his gaze again, new tears forming in your eyes. “I’m trying to run from myself Buck. but it's not working. I don’t know the last time i was actually happy was. I don’t sleep anymore, I just...can’t. I'm always so tired and sad and it’s so hard to pretend like everything’s fine, but...It’s not.”

You saw his face soften, but still etched with worry. “How long has this been going on?” You shrug and say “I dunno. Months I guess.”

You saw him swallow before he continued, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You shrugged again, offering a weak “I didn’t feel like I could.” Fresh tears spilling over, Bucky wrapped his arms around you again. “Does anyone else know?” You offered a dry laugh. “I mean, I’m sure Steve knows something’s up, because he is Steve after all, but no one knows what you didn’t know before coming in here.”

He sighed again, trying to figure out what to do. He just wanted to help you. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Just please, don’t leave. Don’t leave me alone right now. I’m so tired of being alone.”

He smiled and ran a hand up and down your back. “Anything you want, doll.”

#buckybarnes #wintersoldier #avengers #marvel #mcu #steverogers #captainamerica #depression #depressioncomfort

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jawabear · 4 years

Text

(3) A Lesson In Want (Maxwell Lord x reader)

Not my image

A/N: Here is the third instalment of the series. this one is shorter then the others and there's no fun time in this part but there is more to come, I swear.

Genre: Angst

Warnings: sad. Max is lonely...(Pedro Pascal comes with his own warning)

Summary: Its the morning after the greatest night of Maxwell Lord’s life. And he is alone.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Epilogue

Beep Beep Beep Beep

Max groaned and swung his arm to slam his hand down onto his infuriating alarm to turn it off. He rolled onto his back and rubbed his face. He was a little more awake now and his mind was filled with the memory of the night before. He could see her beautiful face, feel her warm lips, hear her sweet moans and whimpers. He felt a smile form on his lips.

He let out a deep sigh and rolled onto his other side, wanting to wrap his arms around her warm body again. His eyes snapped open when his hand landed on nothing. It rested flat against his sheets that had been neatly pulled up.

She had gone again.

He could’ve cried. His heart felt heavy. After such an amazing night, how could she leave him? When did she leave him? Did she at least spend some of the night wrapped in his arm? Or did she leave right after he fell asleep? He pushed himself to a sitting position and looked around the room for any sign of her. But there was nothing.

He noticed that his clothes from the night before had been neatly folded at the foot of his bed, a note resting on top. He scrambled forwards and grabbed the note, unfolding it and reading it.

Sorry baby, duty calls xx

-(Y/N)

He let out a huff and fell back down to his bed, the note still in his hand. He stared up at the ceiling for a moment. He didn’t know what he had got himself into. He guessed this is what the girls he left behind must’ve felt. Although, that was different. He left them once, she had left him a few times.

But he didn’t want her to stop. She came back to him. That was more important to him. He just wished he could wake one morning and find her still asleep next to him. He just wished he could hold her in his arms. Press sleepy kisses to her body to wake her. See her first smile of the day. See how the golden sunlight perfectly outlines her beautiful figure. That’s all he wanted. But he didn’t think he would get that.

Later, while he was in his office, he had tried numerous times to call her, but each time the line went dead immediately, it was as if the number didn’t exist. But it had. He called that number the day before and it worked. So why didn’t it work now?

He would try twice every hour, but nothing change. He didn’t know why he continued, he knew she wouldn’t answer a dead line. Perhaps he had hope that she would eventually pick up. But he wasn’t so lucky. He did begin to worry. Now he had no way of contacting her and the next gathering was weeks away. Would he have to wait that long to see her again?

Clearly she didn’t show herself to anyone other then Max, so the chances of seeing her outside of a grand hall or his home were very slim, impossible even. His home. He had a sudden thought, she knew where he lived. Maybe she would return to him that night. Yes. That was what he would have to believe if her were to stay sane for the rest of that working day.

And then he thought again. How did she know where he lived? He didn’t remember telling her. Max owned many houses, so how did she know which one to find him in? And how did she arrive there? He didn’t hear an sort of vehicle pull up outside his house. And who the hell was she?

Max knew it wasn’t the best idea to question her being. He found out that she was real, a solid being. And he finally got to touch her and feel her exactly how he wanted to. He got to hold her and kiss her and make love to her. But regardless, he still only knew her name. Not even her last name. He couldn’t very well look her up. He didn’t know how many (Y/N)’s there were. He could be looking at hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands. He just didn’t know. And he didn’t even know if she would be there. She didn’t make herself easy for him to find, so he didn’t hold much hope for a background check.

And of course, no one knew who she was. He had asked a few people in his office if he had had any dealings with a woman of her name (but he was pretty sure he would remember dealing with someone a beautiful as her) but they all came back empty. They hadn’t the slightest idea what he was talking about. They all thought the same as he once did. He had made her up.

Max let out a loud sigh as he held his head in his hands. He just wanted to see her again. He wanted to hear her voice. Kiss her lips. Touch her skin. He wanted this day to be over so he could go home and wait for her to come back to him. He needed her.

But she didn’t come to him. He stayed up all night waiting for her. He had lit his fire as he did the night before and he sat on his sofa and stared at the clock.

9 o’clock.

He waited to hear a knock at his door like he had. But he didn’t. So he waited some more. It got closer and closer to midnight but he didn’t leave his living room. Each tick of the clock meant a little shred of hope was taken from him. Until it finally struck twelve and all hope he had of having her for the night was gone.

He couldn’t decide whether he felt angry or sad. He was both. But he was confused. Their night together had been so perfect. Why would she not return for another? Unless, maybe she didn’t want another. They had both got what they wanted. She had given him what he asked. Maybe what she had said to him was a lie. She didn’t really like him. She didn’t want to do it again. Maybe she thought that’s all he did want from her. Just that one night to use her. But that wasn’t the case. He wanted her again. He wanted her forever.

He called it a night. She wasn’t coming. He went to bed with a heavy heart. He was surprised he was able to sleep. He had never felt such pain before, maybe sleep was his body’s was of dealing with it. Shutting him off from it so he wouldn’t have to feel it. But he knew it would still be there in the morning.

Until she was at his bedside again, it would always be there.

04/04/20

#maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord fanfic #Wonder Women 1984 #angst #Pedro Pascal #fanfic

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crystaljins · 5 years

Text

Take a chance. | 05

Characters: Jungkook x Reader

Word count: 6.5K

Synopsis: You should have known the second your business partner asked you to plan his best friend’s wedding as a favour that it was going to be nothing but trouble. Especially when it turns out he’s in love with said best friend. And dying of a deadly disease because of it.

Hanahaki!au

Notes: @trumpettay asked that they be tagged when this fic is released! First time receiving a request like that, but I’m happy to!

And I suppose.... I should give you guys some warning.... the fluff gets a little bit... thin from this point on...

Warnings: Angst. Graphic depictions of vomiting. Mentions of illness and death.

Masterlist

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Seri has been working here for a few months now. It isn’t a long amount of time by any means. Yet even as new as she is this event-planning firm, she knows that when Kim Seokjin walks in with bounce in his step, whistling a cheerful tune, that her day is going to be very, very long. He’s not a nasty man by any means- no, he’s well-meaning, kind, patient, amiable. So it’s not like he’s trying to make things difficult for her. He just manages to, somehow.

His expression lights up when he sees that she is huddled in the kitchenette, hugging a cup of coffee to her chest like it is her first-born child. Don’t come over to me, don’t come over to me, don’t come over to me, is what Seri chants repeatedly to herself but alas, Jin has never before heeded her silent pleas for peace and quiet. He strides over to her with the confidence and cheerfulness of a man who has been handed the entire world on a silver platter.

“Good morning, dear Seri!” He cries. He never wears a business jacket into work on warm days- he prefers to sling it artfully over his shoulders like he’s a model. Seri knows it’s only so that he can roll up the sleeves of his button up to expose his forearms because he likes catching women staring. He shoves his right hand into his pant pocket and leans against the counter Seri is standing by. Seri offers a weak smile and avoids his gaze- perhaps if she doesn’t acknowledge his presence, he’ll leave her be.

He does not.

“Isn’t today such a fine, warm morning? Did you notice the birds chirping just outside our office building? Why, even the homeless man on the train this morning didn’t smell as much like feet as he normally does.” Jin recounts cheerfully. If he were an anime character, his eyes would be sparkling and there would be a soft pink background and hearts floating behind him.

“I suppose it’s an ok morning.” She says. It’s not. Her toilet was clogged, her sister’s baby couldn’t sleep the entire night and was howling because of a cold and she has a ladder in her stockings. But she also doesn’t want to ruin his good mood- it feels kind of like kicking a puppy if she does. Jin stares at Seri expectantly, but she merely sips at her coffee. She hopes eventually the work he has to get done and the meeting with clients she knows he has in 20 minutes will draw him away. It’s not that she doesn’t enjoy talking to Jin. It’s just that he’s always so full of energy and on mornings like these she just wants quiet.

“Aren’t you going to ask why I’m in such a good mood?” He prods.

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.” She mutters under her breath. He doesn’t seem to hear.

“Because haven’t you noticed how close our boss and resident space cadet have gotten over the past few weeks? All thanks to me.” He cries. He glances from side to side before leaning in close enough that Seri can feel his breath puffing against her cheek. “And yesterday they came into work together. And late.”

“They own this place. They can come in at any hour they please.” Seri points out placidly. “It doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

Jin nods his agreement, folding his arms across his chest.

“Hm… You’re right.” Jin admits. “They’ve been making some great progress, but nothing solid so far.”

He goes silent, and Seri takes that as her chance to try and edge way from him. But suddenly he pushes off the counter, straightening and clapping one fist into an open palm.

“I have an idea!” He cries, with enough volume that she flinches and nearly spills her coffee all over herself. Wouldn’t that just be the cherry on top if she did? “Last night I was watching this drama- great drama, by the way, 100% would recommend. I’ll text you the name later. Anyway, in it, the female lead ends up being tricked into thinking the male lead likes her and because of that she starts to notice all his charms and whatnot, and in the end she falls for him. That’s what we need to do for Jungkook! And it wouldn’t even be lying, considering that (Y/N) really does have feelings for him! It’d just be… not telling the whole truth.”

“I really think that this isn’t-” Seri protests hastily, hoping she can stop Jin before he tries yet another one of his stupid plans that puts her boss at risk.

“Oh, Seri, Seri, Seri. What Jungkook needs to realise his feelings is just a little nudge. We’ve laid some nice groundwork with our plans so far-” Jin explains.

“I’ve had no part in these plans, Jin, they’ve all been you-”

“But now he needs something harsher. Something more definite. We need to drop a bomb, if he’s going to take that last step to returning (Y/N)’s feelings and curing her Hanahaki.” He says aloud, and Seri has a feeling he wouldn’t even notice if she stepped out of the room this instant. He really has a one-track kind of mind. “You’re brilliant, Seri. Finally, the last step to Operation “Cure-(Y/N)”!”

Seri rolls her eyes as Jin cheers and prances out of the kitchenette, oblivious to the world around him. Playing with peoples’ feelings, especially when the stakes are so high, is a terrible idea. And Jin means well, he really does, but she can’t shake the feeling that the best way to deal with this is to convince you to get the treatment you apparently need. She can only hope that both you and Jungkook manage to survive this latest plan unscathed.

Jungkook has kind of been hoping for a chance to speak alone with Jin, ever since the weird clubbing experience. He hasn’t really had the time or emotional space to process the things Jin said that night, what with stuff for the wedding starting to pile up and his days steadily becoming busier the closer the dreaded date gets. But Jin’s words have been buzzing in the back of Jungkook’s mind like storm clouds on the horizon. Why had Jin warned Jungkook that things won’t last like this forever? At the time, when Jin warned him, the thought of you not being a constant had been a bit sad but it hadn’t been something Jungkook felt he should worry about. But after that day in your apartment, after crying in your arms, Jungkook is suddenly scared by Jin’s warning- what will he do, if you aren’t there? As corny and ridiculous and selfish as it is… Jungkook needs you. And he needs you for more than just your help- he needs that feeling you give him- that warm, safe, comfortable feeling. He needs you, and your gentle smile and the sound of your humming as you work and the passion in your eyes when you plan a wedding. But, even knowing all of that, he can’t think why Jin said the things that he did. Why can’t things stay like this? Why can’t he continue to rely on you and trust you like he’s learnt he can? Why would you finding someone else come in between that? The more that he thinks about it, the more questions he has and so when Jin offers to treat him to lunch, Jungkook jumps at the chance.

“I’m feeling something soup-y.” Jin announces, as he leads Jungkook through the crowded street. In the lunch hour, the streets are often packed around their office building, but there’s enough places to go to that it’s always easy to eat out. Jungkook nods.

“I’m happy with whatever.” Jungkook informs him, adjusting his tie. In the sweltering heat, the business attire you insist on can be quite uncomfortable. Jin doesn’t look bothered- he has his suit jacked draped neatly over his forearm and his shirt sleeves rolled up. He’s probably used to formal business attire, though- being from a rich family probably meant he’d had to spend a lot of time wearing it.

Jin grins and leads Jungkook down a small alleyway between buildings. Jungkook recognises it- there’s a small, family owned restaurant at the end of the alleyway. It’s usually a quiet place, even during the lunch rush hour, which makes him feel like maybe Jin has something to say to him as well. It isn’t until after Jin has ordered, charming both the waitress and the owner of the restaurant, and the menus have been taken away, that he speaks up about what’s on his mind.

“Have you thought about what I said that night at all?” He asks Jungkook. He folds his hands neatly on the table and stares expectantly at him. Jungkook nearly chokes on his drink because in the time it had taken Jin to order far more food than was necessary, Jungkook had let his guard down.

“I have.” Jungkook coughs. “I actually wanted to talk about what you meant that night. Were you saying I’m holding her back from finding the right guy? Are you worried I’m taking her for granted? Because I promise, I really do appreciate her-”

To Jungkook’s immense surprise, Jin merely starts laughing.

“Oh, my poor, sweet, naïve Jungkook!” He exclaims fondly. “I would never think so lowly of you! Of course, you appreciate our boss, I’m sure- that’s not what I was saying.”

“Then what were you saying?” Jungkook answers, feeling a little patronised, and a little frustrated. What could have Jin meant, then? Why does he have to be afraid that things are going to change with you?

“Well, at the time, I wanted you to realise that the way things are now could change very quickly and suddenly, and I didn’t want you to realise something important after you’d lost your chance.” Jin explains. He tilts his head and peers at Jungkook like he’s having a lot of fun at Jungkook’s expense. “But now… Now I want you to work out something else. Forget what I said about not getting too comfortable. There’s something else.”

“Then say it!” Jungkook complains. “Please just come out and say it- why do I have to be worried about things changing? Why can’t things stay like they are now? Why are you being so cryptic?”

Jin ponders this.

“Well, it’s more fun if I’m cryptic. At least for me.” He admits. “But I suppose you’ve always been a bit obtuse so maybe I should come out and say it. I’ll put you out of your misery, then. You don’t have to worry about getting too comfortable but there’s a reason you might want to rethink the nature of your relationship with her.”

He pauses for dramatic effect.

“(Y/N) likes you.” He announces. He says it gleefully, like Jungkook should be excited or happy at the announcement. “Like… romantically.”

There is a sudden roaring in Jungkook’s ears following Jin’s announcement. His heart plummets into his stomach. He doesn’t understand the sudden panic that seizes his gut. Adrenaline floods his veins as if Jin were threatening his life.

“N-no she doesn’t.” He protests weakly. Because you don’t. No, because you can’t. If you like him… if you like him… then…

“She told me.” Jin admits with a shrug. He pauses to smile at the waitress as she sets his food down before him. When she leaves, he takes a large mouthful. “The other day,” He continues to explain, though the words are hard to decipher when Jin’s mouth is still full. “I asked her why she was putting in so much effort to Taehyung and Minah’s wedding and she said it was because she didn’t want to let you down.” He swallows and flashes Jungkook a thumbs up, unaware of the way Jungkook feels like his world is suddenly crashing down around him. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you this, but she said it’s because she has feelings for you, and that’s why she’s trying so hard.”

The sound of a chair screeching against the floor echoes loudly in the quiet restaurant. It takes Jungkook a few moments to understand that it’s because he’s gotten abruptly to his feet. He stares, bewildered, wondering why he’s breathing like he’s just ran a marathon. It’s hard to describe what he’s feeling, short of panic. Yes, the two of you have been close of late. Yes, he feels like he can trust you perhaps even above Taehyung and Minah right now. And yes, you’re so, so important to him. He came here in the first place because you’re important enough to him that he’s scared of losing you.

But the thought of you having romantic feelings for him… it scares him in a bone deep sort of way. Because he’s still dying of Hanahaki for Minah, which must mean that your feelings aren’t returned. And the thought of you feeling even a fraction of how he feels about the Minah-Taehyung situation makes him feel sick to his stomach. And that’s not even beginning to consider what happens if those feelings progress- what if you end up with Hanahaki? He really wouldn’t be able to handle it if something horrible like that happened. The fluttery, joyful high he’s been experiencing ever since that day in your apartment vanishes- he’s left feeling like he’s suddenly plummeting towards the earth and deathly speeds. He’d ruin you, if you liked him. Your smile, your laugh, your kindness… they would be gone, and it’d be his fault. He feels a wave of self-loathing so powerful he feels it may knock him out.

“Tell me you’re lying.” Jungkook begs. “Please. Say it’s a practical joke.”

The mirth slides off Jin’s face at Jungkook’s reaction. Instead concern knots his brows and tugs his lips downwards in a frown.

“Jungkook, are you ok? You look a little pale.” Jin says, about to get to his feet.

“Say it’s not true.” Even Jungkook is surprised by the volume of his voice. Jin’s jaw drops and the silence that follows Jungkook’s shout is jarring.

“I know, I know we’ve been spending a lot of time together. But it’s just because we’re friends. She cares about me as a co-worker. As a co-worker.” Jungkook explains, his voice hoarse and choked. “But she can’t like me, she can’t.”

“Ok, ok. Jungkook, calm down.” Jin says urgently, getting to his feet and planting his hands on both of Jungkook’s shoulders. Jungkook can’t seem to slow his rapid, panicked breathing. “Hey. Look at me.” Jin’s voice has gone gentle and soothing, as he urges Jungkook to meet his gaze. “I was joking. I’m sorry- I didn’t mean it. I thought it would be funny. She doesn’t like you. I’m sorry, Jungkook.” Jin says placatingly.

But Jungkook has been working with Jin for three whole years now. Even though Jungkook has always preferred to distance himself from his coworkers, it’s hard not to get to know someone as friendly and open as Jin, after three years. And Jin has always been easy to read and easy to understand. Which means Jungkook can see it, plain as day. Jin is lying through his teeth, right now, which can only mean one thing.

You do have feelings for him.

Jungkook stares at Jin with wide, panicked eyes for one moment longer, before fleeing from the restaurant like his life depends on it.

And as Jungkook leaves, it occurs to Jin that maybe… maybe he went too far this time.

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Jungkook is avoiding you. After all, the two of you run a business together, and have been fairly close as of late, so it’s easy to notice the suddenly chilly way he treats you. Even messages about important things, like the scheduling software you use malfunctioning, or picking a location for Minah’s hen’s party are met with simple, one-word answers. What’s difficult to work out is why. What could you possibly have done wrong?

After that day in your apartment, the morning after the wedding dress fiasco, things had been great. He’d been weirdly emotional then, but he’d been normal at work that day, and the next- better than normal. He’d been sweet and friendly and eager to spend time with you. If you had to identify a specific starting point for things going weird, it had been after he’d abruptly taken the rest of the day off after lunch with Seokjin that day. It was rare for Jungkook to agree to any kind of social outing involving his co-workers so you had been surprised when Seri informed you that the two had gone to lunch together. So, your best guess at what could be wrong is that Seokjin said something strange. The two of them certainly have a strange dynamic- you still haven’t forgotten how weird that night the three of you went to the club was. But shouldn’t he be avoiding Seokjin, if that were the case, and not you? What could Seokjin have possibly said to trigger such baffling behaviour in your business partner?

Across from you, Minah carefully raises another forkful of cake to her mouth. She’s watching you like at any moment you are a bomb that could go off- perhaps she can sense your stormy mood.

“Um… (Y/N)…” She starts meekly. You start and shake yourself. You’re suddenly aware of the tension you had been holding in your expression and force yourself to relax into a smile. “Are you ok? You seem a little… off.”

You suppose you have been off. You’ve been weird and flu-y all week, and when coupled with how Jungkook has been treating you, it’s been a rough time.

“I’m just feeling a little under the weather.” You offer kindly. “How do you feel about this one?” You question, gesturing to the white chocolate and coconut cream cake before you. She watches you curiously for a moment longer before turning to the cake.

“Well, I really like it, but Tae is a bit picky with what he eats.” She offers with a laugh. “He doesn’t like the texture of coconut. So far I think that caramel mudcake and the red velvet are winning.” She says. She pats her stomach delicately. “But I don’t think I can handle much more cake! I never thought I’d see the day when this happens, but I think I’ve eaten enough cake to last me a lifetime.”

“Yeah- it’s why I normally avoid cake tasting with clients. I’d put on too much weight!” You tell her while patting your stomach with a laugh. She nods and smiles. There is a long drawn out silence where the two of you have run out of things to talk about unrelated to the wedding.

“You’re probably wondering why I invited you and not Jungkook.” She offers suddenly, setting down her fork and folding her fingers neatly together in front of her. You pause in the middle of trying the next sample of cake and stare at her curiously. Her smile is tight but concerned. “I’m worried about him. Especially after the other day. He’s been so distant lately, and I was wondering if he’d maybe spoken to you about it. The two of you seem so close lately, and he hasn’t been speaking to me or Taehyung.” She confesses. It makes sense, as his best friend, for her to seek you out. She’s probably desperate for answers. After all, they are life-long friends and Jungkook has been sick for over a year at this stage. Even the most obtuse people in the world would notice something strange is going on.

“It was just a spot of food poisoning.” You offer, though your smile is restrained and decidedly icy. Her frown deepens at your obvious lie.

“See, that’s the thing.” She says. “If it was just food poisoning, why did he call you? He could have asked me for help. I could have called the ambulance. He was barely conscious when you dragged him out. And I didn’t say anything because you asked me not to that day, but I can’t hold back anymore. What is wrong with Jungkook? What is he not telling me?”

You press your lips together nervously. Suddenly all the cake you’ve eaten leaves you feeling a little sick, and the nerves don’t help.

“I…” You say slowly. Your mind draws a blank- what’s a believable lie you could tell her to throw suspicion off? As it stands, she doesn’t seem to be suspecting Hanahaki. It’s not the most common disease in the world- it certainly wouldn’t be at the top of her list of what she suspects is wrong with Jungkook. “I don’t know.” You finally settle on. “He’s been acting weird towards me too.”

Her gaze softens at your confession, and you are surprised at the genuine sadness that comes out in your voice. Perhaps you have a future in acting.

“He’s been avoiding me all week, since that day in fact.” You confess. It’s a temporary fix, at best, but if you can contact Jungkook in time, perhaps the two of you can come up with an acceptable lie when you aren’t put on the spot like this. “So, if you want to know, you’ll have to talk to him.”

Minah seems to soften and relax when she realises that she is not alone in her bafflement over Jungkook. Of course, you are a little more informed of the situation than her, but he’s just as confusing to you. Even after all this time, after everything the two of you have been through together, he’s treating you like this. You can understand her confusion and hurt, at the very least. She leans back and sighs.

“He’s been like this since he was a kid.” She confesses. “Always suffering alone. I wish… I wish just once he could rely on someone else.” The sadness in her voice makes your heart ache for her- not for the first time you are made aware of just how much she loves her friend.

“I’m sure… I’m sure he just doesn’t want to make you worry.” You offer weakly and her smile is thin and doesn’t reach her eyes.

“See, that’s the thing.” She sighs, defeated. “Friends are supposed to worry about each other. It’s in the job description. If you can’t trust your friends, who can you trust? But I suppose he wouldn’t be Jungkook if he wasn’t frustratingly closed off and difficult to read, would he?” She says with a chuckle. She straightens and smiles at you. “Thank you, though. I’m sure you have to get back to the office.”

You glance at your watch- you do. You’ve got a mountain of paperwork to go through and some new clients have just filled out a questionnaire you have to read through. You smile at her apologetically.

“Sorry I couldn’t be of more help.” You say, getting quickly to your feet. “Email me what cake you and Taehyung decide to go with, and I’ll be in contact about finalising the invites to send off next week as well.” You say as farewell.

Back at the office, the atmosphere is strange. Seri is out for the day, taking clients to see a nearby venue, so Seokjin and Jungkook are the only ones in. Jungkook, when in the office (since there are times when he prefers to work from home), is often flitting from place to place as he makes phone calls or is seated at his desk going through paperwork. But currently he is seated stiffly at his desk. He is unmoving, instead staring at the monitor of the computer that rests on his desk like it has personally wronged him. And Seokjin, who is normally the kind of worker who spends more time gossiping in the break room than actually working, types vigorously at his desk like you’ve threatened to fire him if he doesn’t meet an email quota for the day. Normally, the work environment you have set is relaxed and free. Jungkook normally tracks the in- and out-of-office tasks and he does monthly performance evaluations, but as a whole, event-planning requires flexibility, and demanding customers often ensure your workers are meeting deadlines better than you ever could. But the office you have just walked into looks grey and bleary.

You can’t help but feel the oddly chilly atmosphere is linked to Jungkook’s recent behaviour, and it only furthers you suspicions that Seokjin is at the root of it all. But you have no time to dwell on it, for you feel it is better to inform Jungkook of Minah’s concerns sooner, rather than later.

“I need to speak with you in my office.” Is what you tell him, and you can’t help the way your tone runs slightly chilly. You had thought his sudden distance didn’t bother you, but clearly it does. You swallow, and stride into your office before you can observe his reaction, and without checking if he follows.

He does though, and when the door clicks shut before you, you turn to face him. You don’t know how to hold yourself around him, suddenly. You settle on standing straight, with your arms dangling loosely by your side. He stares at you, his face impassive and difficult to read. If Seokjin were to peer in through the window to your office, perhaps he would think you were having a staring competition. You swallow deeply and clear your throat, willing the uncomfortable ticking feeling in the back of your throat to go away. You must be coming down with a cold.

“I just got back from cake-tasting with Minah.” You inform him, breaking the silence. Something flashes in Jungkook’s expression, but it is gone before you can identify it. “She… she wanted to know about that day. At the wedding dress boutique. At the time I told her you had food poisoning and managed to get her to back off by saying I would explain later, and she wants those answers now.”

Silence follows, and Jungkook drops his gaze to his shoes.

“I see.” He answers softly, and his tone is frustratingly lacking. You’d have an easier time reading a blank sheet of paper. “What did you tell her?”

You bite your lip.

“That I didn’t know.” Is your simple answer. “I figured it would buy us some time to come up with an answer-”

“Good.” Jungkook interrupts. He says the words so softly that at first you think you might have misheard them. “That’s all you have to do- I’ll handle the rest. This isn’t an “us” problem.”

“Sorry, what?” You ask. If you’d had any doubt that he had been oddly cold towards you before now, then the way he regards you when he finally raises his gaze confirms it. You’ve seen ice warmer than the chill in his eyes.

“There is no “us.”” He repeats, louder this time so that you know you didn’t mishear him. “This is my problem, and you don’t need to get involved. Thank you for your help all this time, but I’d prefer it if we kept our relationship strictly professional from this point on.”

He bows, and turns to leave the room, as if that is an acceptable point to end the conversation. As if it’s ok to suddenly drop a bomb like that and then leave. As if you have the kind of relationship that can be cut off so easily.

“I thought we were in this together?” You ask, and you can’t keep the hurt from colouring your tone. Jungkook pauses with his hand resting against the doorhandle.

“We were.” He says softly, and it almost sounds like he regrets the fact. “But after thinking it through, I think that that was a mistake. I shouldn’t have brought my boss at work into such a personal situation. We’ve crossed a lot of professional boundaries, recently. And I understand that that was because we were in very difficult circumstances. But I don’t think that this is what is best for us, and I don’t want you getting the wrong idea about our relationship. You’ve been really helpful so far with my… condition, but I can handle it just fine on my own. I’d prefer you avoid getting unnecessarily caught up.”

““Unecessarily caught up”?” You spit in anger, striding forward and wrenching his shoulder so that he’s forced to face you. “Is that what you think of all this? It’s not like I was trying to invade your privacy- I’ve only been trying to help you, this entire time! And it’s not like I asked for any of this. How could you even say such a thing? I don’t know why you’re suddenly acting like this, but Jungkook, I’m helping because I care about you. Is that a crime?”

“It is.” Jungkook shouts, forcefully throwing your hand off his shoulder and glaring at you with a wildness and pain you don’t understand. The mask he had been hiding behind has cracked but you don’t understand a single one of the agonised emotions on his face. “I don’t want you to care about me.” He says, and he’s panting with the exertion of his shout. “I need you to keep your distance.”

Something about the way he says it, weak and broken, cools your sudden bout of anger. But his word choice strikes you as odd as well. It almost sounds… it almost sounds like he feels like he has no choice in pushing you away. Which is a familiar enough scenario to you- didn’t he do exactly that to Taehyung and Minah? Under the guise of it being for their own good? For the first time, you think that maybe it wasn’t the right thing to do, to keep this awful secret from them for so long.

“Jungkook,” You call softly. His shoulders hunch in a flinch like you’ve just threatened to punch him.

Whatever questions you could have asked him next or words of comfort you could have offered are cut off by Seokjin opening the door to your office. He doesn’t knock, instead swinging the door open with urgency. He looks supremely uncomfortable as he glances between the two of you.

“I… I heard shouting.” Seokjin says, and you have no idea why he looks as guilty as he does until he meets your gaze determinedly. “And… And I think you guys should know about my part in your fight….”

Of all the ways you could have expected Jungkook to react in the ringing silence follow Jin’s story, bursting into laughter is not one of them. But that’s exactly what he does- he laughs loudly and freely like someone has lifted a weight off of his chest.

“Oh, Jin,” Jungkook cries, almost in tears- his laughter sobers quickly but the relieved smile remains. Seokjin frowns, adjusting how his spectacles sit against his face and for the first time perhaps ever, he looks bashful. “That’s not the case at all. (Y/N) doesn’t have Hanahaki. Although thank you for trying to help her.”

Seokjin blinks a few times in bafflement, before looking to you for confirmation. You offer him a smile.

“It’s true.” You tell him. “I don’t. And if I did, as much as I appreciate your attempts to help, I would get treatment- my brother’s not a specialist for nothing.”

“But then, what about when you were randomly asking about Hanahaki?” Seokjin accuses, and you feel bad for him. Everything he’s picked up on is a half-truth. The rose petals were likely from Jungkook having an episode. And you had suspiciously asked about Hanahaki not long after. But he’s missed the whole truth, and now the two of you are going to have to lie to him to continue to keep Jungkook’s secret. You open your mouth with a lie prepared, but Jungkook beats you to the chase.

“Because I’m the one with Hanahaki.” Jungkook announces, no longer laughing. Instead he smiles kindly at Seokjin.

You could hear a pin drop in the silence that follows such an announcement. Seokjin’s jaw actually drops.

“Not for (Y/N) though.” He continues to explain. “For Minah. My best friend, and the woman (Y/N) is currently planning the wedding for. (Y/N) has just been trying to help me all this time.”

Seokjin’s mouth opens and closes a few times like a fish before he finds his voice.

“So, you don’t have feelings for Jungkook?” Seokjin rasps.

You bite your lip, prepared to deny it, but the words don’t come out for some reason. Like they are caught in your throat. Luckily Jungkook is quick to jump in before you can force the denial out.

“Of course she doesn’t, thank goodness.” He sighs, and he looks so genuinely relieved that you should feel happy for him.

You don’t, though. You don’t feel happy at all. In fact, his words trigger something in you- your mind races as you put two and two together. Slowly the gravity of Jungkook’s behaviour occurs to you, now that you know the reasoning behind it.

“Then… Jungkook…” You wonder aloud. He turns to you curiously, patiently awaiting your question. “This past week that you’ve been acting weirdly around me…”

Jungkook grimaces and rubs nervously at the back of his neck.

“Oh… that…” He says slowly. “I’m so sorry about my behaviour, (Y/N). It’s because I was worried you had feelings for me. I was scared I would hurt you.”

His words shouldn’t hurt. They shouldn’t feel like he’s simultaneously plunged a knife into your heart and punched you in the gut. All his earlier, nastier words were because of a misunderstanding. He had been trying to push you away, maybe even for you own good, knowing Jungkook. You shouldn’t feel hurt. The feelings he was worried about don’t exist so you shouldn’t feel so heartbroken over him responding so vehemently to them.

But you do.

“Am I really that repulsive?” You ask softly. Both men in the room stiffen, perhaps picking up the undercurrent of hurt that, before this moment, hadn’t been detectable in your voice. It’s clear as day now, though. “Was the thought of me liking you so horrible that it justified you saying all those awful things to me just then? You had to go that far to push me away?”

The air changes slightly- gone is the relief and slight amusement at Seokjin’s antics. Instead your mind races as you filter through the hurt, the distress, the confusion Jungkook has put you through, all because he was terrified. Terrified of something as small and insignificant as you having a crush on him. As if your feelings are disgusting enough to justify casting you aside like a dirty rag.

“N-no.” Jungkook protests. Seokjin looks like he very much regrets being in the room in this instant. You regret being here too. “It- it wasn’t like that, (Y/N). It was for your own good.”

“‘My own good’” You repeat, and the bitter sarcasm is not lost on the two other occupants of the room. Jungkook stares despairingly at Seokjin but he has nothing helpful to offer, too subdued by his previous blunders. “You don’t have to lie, Jungkook.” You spit, as hot, angry tears begin to pool in your eyes and your throat burns. “Thank you, though, for showing me just how important I am to you. I’ll be sure to keep our relationship purely professional from now on.”

And you turn, ready to storm out of your office so that neither of your co-workers see the way your face has crumpled with hurt and the way the first of the tears begin to trickle down your cheeks.

“Wait, wait,” Jungkook cries, panicked now. He wraps his fingers around your wrist, trying to hold you in place. “No that’s not what I meant (Y/N).” He calls, and he’s almost in tears as he says it. “You’re important to me. You’re so important to me it scares me sometimes. I didn’t push you away because I don’t want you to like me or because you’re repulsive. You’re not. I’d be lucky for you to like me.” His grip on you is so tight it almost hurts, and his expression is pleading. “It’s because I couldn’t bear the thought of you feeling even a fraction of the pain that I know comes with not having your feelings returned, and because of someone like me. No way. You deserve so much better than that- than me. I... I care about you too much to be the reason for you being in pain. And what if the feelings grew? What if you ended up with Hanahaki? I thought... I thought if I pushed you away, you’d be safe. That the feelings would go away because I was such a dick and then you wouldn’t be hurt because of me.”

You stare at him in bewilderment, trying to comprehend the slew of feelings he has basically pelted at you. You’re still angry, that’s for sure, and it was stupid of him to assume that pushing you away rather than talking with you was the best way to handle the situation. And how egotistical of him, to think that it was up to him, to deal with your emotions rather than leaving you to sort things out for yourself. But you kind of understand. Jungkook’s always been the kind of person who feels the need to take responsibility for people’s hardships- and he’d done that to Taehyung and Minah, his lifelong friends. You open your mouth to respond as much, but then the strangest feeling overcomes you. Like the words are trapped in your chest. You wince, placing your hand over your sternum. You are puzzled by the sudden pain that sits behind it.

“(Y/N)?” Seokjin calls hesitantly. He registers more quickly than Jungkook that something is wrong. “Are you ok?” He takes an unsure step towards you from where he had been awkwardly watching the fight unfold. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Jungkook seems to register this fact as well, and one hand comes to rest lightly against your back and the other steadies your shoulder. The pain worsens as he does so, and you cough once.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks softly but urgently. You open your mouth, trying to reassure them but then you break into a coughing fit. It’s not a normal one though- you feel like something is caught in your throat. You swallow, trying to stop the coughs, but they just grow in intensity until you are doubled over from the force of them.

“Maybe we should call an ambulance-” Seokjin cries urgently, and that’s when it happens.

A single white daisy petal bursts from your lips and flutters to the ground. For a moment, the three of you can only stare in horror. Slowly, the reality of the situation begins to dawn on you, and all the implications of the harmless white petal that rests lightly on the ground hit you like a tonne of bricks.

In the next moment you flee from the room, before they can say anything. You don’t even spare a glance over your shoulder.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts scenario #jeon jungkook x reader #btsboulangerie #writing

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noona-clock · 4 years

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Mistletoe Manor - Epilogue, Part 2

Genre: 1900′s AU/Romance

Pairings: Park Seo Joon, Bang Yongguk, Brian Kang, Jung Daehyung, Jung Jaehyun, Lee Taeyong x OCs

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, Epilogue 1, 2, 3, 4 | Words: 3,753

A/N: Chelle ( @prettywordsyouleft ) and I wanted to re-visit our magical world of Mistletoe Manor. The series left off on a bit of a cliffhanger, so we really had no choice! We hope you enjoy this extra look into the lives of Cassie, Evie, Joey, and all their friends and family.

Keep a lookout for the third part of the epilogue tomorrow at 6pm EST/ 10am NZST on Chelle’s blog!

Since the wedding was fast approaching, Evie found she could barely walk through the manor without being accosted by someone to discuss details. Whether it was her mother bringing up flowers, the cook bringing up menu items, Lydia bringing up her dress and hairstyle... truly, not an hour went by in which she didn’t answer questions or make decisions about her wedding.

It was quite exhausting.

Which is why, as she arrived back home after her visit with Joey, she crept in as quietly and discreetly as she could. There was one person, and one person only, she wanted to run into right now.

And she had a feeling she knew where he was...

After inching the door closed behind her so as not to make any noise whatsoever, Evie tiptoed toward the library, making sure to stay on the carpet and avoid the creaky floorboards.

A flash of white caught the corner of her eye, most likely the cook’s apron, so Evie dashed behind an open door to hide from view.

“Daniel,” she heard the cook ask the footman by the front door. “Has Miss Evie returned yet? I want her to taste the cake I’m testing out for the wedding.”

Evie held her breath, knowing Daniel had just seen her sneak in. He also had to have seen her scurry behind the door, so it was only a matter of seconds before her cover was blown.

But, to her joyful surprise, Daniel replied with, “No, ma’am, I haven’t seen her.”

As the cook let out a somewhat annoyed sigh, Evie truly had to hold herself back from exclaiming with relief. And also squealing.

As soon as she heard the retreating footsteps of the cook, Evie poked her head out from behind the door. Daniel was watching the cook leave, and once she’d turned the corner, he swung his head around to make eye contact with Evie.

Evie mouthed a ‘thank you’, and Daniel simply nodded with a tiny grin on his lips.

She stepped back out into the hallway, staying on her toes as she hopped quickly to the library.

Without even looking inside to make sure Yongguk really was in there, Evie hurried past the door and hastily shut it behind her. She turned, leaning back against the solid oak and exhaling deeply.

“Evie,” a deep (and very familiar) voice said, startling her just enough to make her jump. “Are you all right?”

Evie hopped to attention, straightening up and searching the room until her eyes landed on her fiance sitting in one of the armchairs.

“Oh!” she breathed. “Yes -- Yes, I am fine, I just -- I was trying to avoid... It doesn’t matter. I was looking for you.”

Yongguk’s forehead wrinkled just slightly, and he set the book currently in his hands down on the side table next to him.

“Well, you have found me,” he murmured as he stood up. “What do you need?”

Before he could make his way over to her, she made her way over to him. He reached his hands out for her, and she slipped her fingers into his palms with a soft grin.

“I just... I do need to talk to you about something, but right now, I am just... happy to see you.”

Evie had been quite anxiety-ridden on her walk back from the village, but one look at Yongguk’s incredibly handsome face had calmed her down instantly. How could she have been so nervous? Even though she’d only known Yongguk for a few months, she knew he would be by her side -- physically and emotionally. Literally and figuratively.

A smile broke out onto his lips, and Evie’s heart jumped into her throat at the sight of it. He had the most wonderful smile she’d ever seen in her entire life.

“I’m happy to see you, too,” he replied as he squeezed her fingers. He then brought one of her hands up to his lips and placed a very soft, delicate kiss on her knuckles. “What have you been up to this afternoon?”

“Ah... yes,” Evie said quietly. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Sort of.”

Yongguk’s brow furrowed again, and he led her over to a nearby loveseat. He didn’t let go of her hands; in fact, he only held them tighter.

“I... Well, you see,” Evie began, perched on the edge of the cushion and avoiding eye contact. “I went to speak with Joey -- Well, first, I spoke with Cassie who told me to also talk to Joey, and that’s where I just came from. Her cottage in the village.”

Yongguk simply nodded.

“I... Please, do not take any offense to this whatsoever. I am just... a bit... nervous about starting our new life together.”

Almost instantly, Yongguk scooted closer to her. “Of course, you are. It’s going to be an incredibly enormous change for you. I would be surprised if you weren’t nervous.”

Even just hearing him say that made her feel a bit better.

“Joey suggested I talk to you, so... here I am,” she said with a meek chuckle.

“Good,” he murmured, keeping his voice low so only she could hear -- even though they were the only ones in the closed-off room. “I would like -- I wish for you to feel comfortable enough to talk to me about... anything. I know you’ll be leaving your family behind, and you’ll only have me -- at least, until you get to know your new ladies’ maid and the other staff and people from the village. I don’t want you to feel... stifled. Or lonely.”

Evie couldn’t help but grin, and she slipped her hands free from his so she could lean into him, sliding her arms around his middle and fitting her head into the crook of his neck.

She heard a deep, quiet chuckle vibrate in his chest, and then she felt the warmth of his arms as he returned her embrace.

“I won’t be lonely,” she assured him with a small shake of her head. “Though... I will bring at least one trunk-load of books with me, just in case.”

Yongguk’s chuckle turned into a more hearty laugh at that, and the sound of it filled Evie’s heart and lungs with pure joy.

“I wouldn’t dream of keeping you away from your books, my love,” he answered. “I will make as much room as you need for them. We can sanction a room to be your own personal library if you’d like.”

Evie gasped, lifting her head to look him in the eye. “Are you quite serious?” Her own personal library?!

Yongguk nodded, brows raised as he gazed her with an extremely serious expression. “Of course.”

And now Evie wondered why she’d ever been nervous in the first place.

She let out a soft squeal of excitement before practically throwing herself at him, pressing her smiling lips to his and kissing him over and over.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she mumbled.

And now Yongguk wondered why he hadn’t brought up the idea of a personal library much, much earlier.

Ever since Evie had closed the front door behind her, the wheels in Joey’s head had been turning.

Not about Evie’s predicament, though. She was incredibly confident her advice was just what her older sister had needed to hear, so she was no longer worried about that.

No, Joey was thinking about the other topic they had discussed.

The orphanage.

Admittedly, Joey had been trying desperately to fill her time with activities around the house, and... it hadn’t been working. When Evie suggested volunteering at the local orphanage, Joey had thought it was a good idea almost immediately.

But, the more she pondered... the more she knew it was an excellent idea.

And, by the time Brian arrived home after the school day ended, Joey practically pounced on him.

“I’ve got extremely exciting news!” she cried, her eyes wide and sparkling vivaciously.

“I do, too!” Brian replied. “I’m home!”

Joey immediately paused, her mouth still open as she had just been about to tell him her exciting news.

She stayed frozen for a few moments before replying to him. “...Well, yes. That is very exciting. I missed you terribly, and I’m glad you’re home.”

Brian beamed with pride as he set his briefcase down and loosened his tie. “I missed you, too, my darling.”

He leaned in for a kiss then, but Joey flung her arms out to stop him. “Wait!” she cried. “I need to tell you my exciting news!”

Brian chuckled softly, still leaning in for his kiss before saying, “All right, let’s hear it. What’s your exciting news?”

Joey didn’t even start leading him into the living room so they could have a nice cup of tea before supper. She couldn’t wait any longer, so she came out with it immediately.

“Evie came to see me, and when she saw I had stooped to embroidery to fill my time -- it’s very well-known I am quite awful with a needle -- she suggested I start volunteering at the orphanage, and I think it’s a wonderful idea, and I’m going to go there tomorrow to see how I can help!”

Brian’s head jerked back in surprise, and a look of slight confusion came across his features. “Volunteer at the orphanage?”

“Yes! Don’t you think it’s perfect? I’m sure they need loads of help, and I’ve got loads of time and loads of energy.”

“Well, that is true.”

“See?! So, I’m going there tomorrow, and I will tell you all about it when you get home.”

A soft smile tugged at Brian’s lips, and he leaned in to place a kiss on Joey’s forehead. “I can’t wait,” he replied.

“Me neither,” Joey agreed with almost a squeal in her voice. “Now. You tell me all about your day.”

The couple spent the rest of the evening in their typical way: discussing the events of the day over dinner, engaging in more conversation over tea and biscuits in the living room, and then talking even more as they readied for bed.

With two people as talkative as they, it’s not a wonder they spent nearly all their time together in conversation.

Joey was the first to awake the next morning, and quite surprisingly, she got out of bed and began to get ready almost immediately. As active a person as she was, Joey was rather lazy -- but only in the mornings. She tended to stay in bed until she knew the cook would absolutely get cross with her for leaving breakfast out too long.

But this morning, she was too excited for her first day of volunteering.

Brian, of course, remarked upon it and began teasing her as soon as he arose -- though, Joey wouldn’t have expected anything less. His provoking nature had been what attracted her to him in the first place, after all.

They followed their typical morning routine of eating breakfast together, and Joey saw Brian off with a kiss at the front door, as she usually did.

But then, when she could no longer see him from the stoop, she went inside and retrieved her coat. She slid it on, letting out a somewhat shaky, anxious breath... and then she left.

The orphanage wasn’t extremely far; close enough to walk, though not quite close enough to be able to walk when it was raining. Thankfully, the sun was already low in the sky, shining warmly.

She greeted her fellow villagers as she passed them in the street, smiling and inquiring after their families. It hadn’t taken her too long to realize she actually preferred living in the village rather than back at the manor, away from the hustle and bustle of country town life.

Or maybe she simply preferred being married and living with Brian than she did living with her family.

Either way, the sense of contentment and happiness Joey felt these days was immense.

When she arrived at the orphanage not twenty minutes later, Joey let out another nervous exhale before reaching up and twisting the large, brass doorknob.

The nun sitting in the front office rose immediately, her eyebrows raising in surprise. “My lady,” she greeted. And then she stopped abruptly, obviously remembering her manners and dipping into a low curtsy.

“Oh, please, just Joey is fine,” Joey told her with a chuckle. “Or Josephine, if you prefer. I married a valet who is now a teacher, I hardly think the ‘Lady’ is applicable.”

And that is exactly how she liked it.

The nun stood up straight, a meek smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Josephine,” she amended, though it sounded like it took a great deal of effort to do so. “What can I help you with?”

“First of all,” Joey began. “What is your name?”

“Oh! I am Sister Agnes, my la -- Josephine.”

“Sister Agnes! It is a pleasure to meet you. Now, I do not need any help from you -- I would like to know if you need any help from me. I would like to volunteer my time!”

Sister Agnes’ eyes widened. “Y--you would like to... v--volunteer? Here?” she stammered.

“Yes, indeed! Please, give me first my task. I am quite eager to do whatever needs doing.”

Sister Agnes explained she would fetch Sister Daphne, the head nun of the orphanage, so to speak. Sister Agnes dealt more with the administration side and, so, did not feel she had the authority to assign Joey to any sort of job.

When Sister Daphne appeared a few minutes later, she took Joey back into the orphanage, giving her a tour and explaining their daily schedule.

The tour ended in the girls’ bedroom, a large room on the second floor with more than several beds lining the walls. Sister Daphne explained there was not enough time and not enough hands to help the girls thoroughly groom themselves, so Joey’s first task would be helping some of the girls brush their hair and teaching them how to brush their teeth and wash their hands.

Joey nodded, a beaming smile curving on her lips because that sounded incredibly easy! She’d been watching her ladies’ maid brush her hair all her life, and she certainly brushed her teeth and washed her hands every day.

As soon as Sister Daphne left the room, about five of the girls came rushing up to Joey’s side, clinging to her skirts and all asking her questions at the same time.

...Oh, dear. What had she gotten herself into?

Brian was incredibly surprised to open the front door to an empty entryway. He had been expecting a greeting much like yesterday’s: Joey standing there waiting for him, blurting out excitedly before he even had a chance to close the door behind him.

But she wasn’t there.

“Joey?” he called out as he set his briefcase down by the small coat closet.

“I... I’m in the living room!” her slightly hesitant voice replied from down the hallway. “Come in and have some tea, my love.”

Brian furrowed his brow as he headed toward the living room, growing increasingly worried at Joey’s behavior. She was very rarely hesitant, and she told him often how greeting him at the door was one of the best parts of her day.

What exactly was going on?

As soon as he arrived in the doorway, Joey turned in her chair to face him, a soft grin on her lips.

“Welcome home,” she said gently.

...A soft grin? Gently?

Was Joey... all right?

“Thanks...” Brian replied cautiously. He stepped inside the room and slid into the chair next to her. He watched her carefully as she poured him a cup of tea, murmuring his thanks when she handed it to him.

“How was your day?” she asked with slightly raised eyebrows.

“It was fine,” he answered. “What about yours? How was the orphanage?”

He was incredibly confused as to why she hadn’t immediately told him all about it when he’d opened the front door.

“Oh, it was lovely,” Joey told him. “I met Sister Agnes and Sister Daphne, I got a tour of the place, I helped some of the girls learn how to properly wash their hands and brush their teeth. I even got to brush their hair for them. They were quite delightful.”

Brian opened his mouth to ask her if things had really been lovely because -- well, why wasn’t she gushing and being overly dramatic about everything? This certainly wasn’t the Joey he knew.

But then she let out a frustrated huff and set down her teacup.

“Oh, all right!” she exclaimed. “I can’t keep it in any longer!”

Aha. Here we go!

“I formed a bond with one of the girls, in particular -- Daisy. She’s six-years-old, and her parents both died of influenza two years ago, and she has the most beautiful ginger hair -- but that’s not exactly the point, I just spent a lot of time getting all of the knots out, and it was enormously pretty once I did. But, anyway! There’s just something about her -- something in her eyes, maybe. I don’t know! But I know every time I look at her, my heart aches and the pit in the bottom of my stomach gets larger, and I truly almost cried when I left today, and I think we should adopt her.”

Thankfully, Brian had not been drinking his tea when she’d said this. If he had, he surely would have choked. He was holding his teacup, though, so he set it down as quickly and carefully as possible.

“Excuse me?” he chuckled. “You think we should -- what?”

“I know you’ll feel the same as soon as you meet her, Brian,” Joey assured him passionately, reaching her hands out and grasping his fingers. “And I know it sounds ridiculous, but that’s what we are! We’re ridiculous! We hated each other, and then we decided to run away and get married in the span of about ten minutes! But we work! And Daisy -- I can just feel it. She belongs to us. She needs to belong to us.”

Brian still couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. Joey, after spending literally one day volunteering at the orphanage, wanted to adopt a six-year-old girl?!

Joey obviously interpreted the confusion and shock on his face because she kept on talking, not allowing him a chance to say anything.

“She reminds me so much of myself when I was that age. She talks a mile a minute -- sometimes she even gets so off-topic she forgot how her sentence started, so she backtracks but then gets off-topic again. She adores running around outside, she speaks before she thinks, she’s impulsive --”

“All right,” Brian interrupted, snapping his head to look Joey in the eye.

“Wh-- really?!” Joey breathed. “All right?! All right as in ‘yes’?!”

Brian gazed into his wife’s eyes for a few moments before a smile tugged at one corner of his lips. And then he nodded.

“Yes.”

Joey launched herself at him, landing in his lap and throwing her arms around his neck. “Oh, Brian, you are simply the best -- do you know how much I love you?!”

“Yes,” he chuckled as she peppered his face with kisses.

“I thought I would have to spend days convincing you!” she giggled after kissing his nose but before kissing his eyelid.

“All you had to do was say she reminded you of yourself,” he told her, his voice quiet and filled with adoration.

Joey stopped kissing him, pulling back slightly to look at him.

“That’s all I needed to know. If she’s anything at all like you, then you’re right. She belongs with us. We’ll go there tomorrow -- together.”

Joey’s eyes became glossy, filling with tears of joy before she leaned back in and kissed him. She kissed him softly but urgently, whispering against his lips how very dearly, truly, and deeply she loved him.

Brian felt exactly the same way, of course, and that’s why he trusted her. He trusted her implicitly and unconditionally. Even if she hadn’t said little Daisy reminded her of herself, he would’ve agreed to it. Because if Joey said the little girl belonged with them, then it was true.

And, in the back of his head, he knew he had to make the most of tonight. Because tonight was the last night ever -- the last night for the rest of their lives that they would be a family of two.

“Did you hear about Brian and Lady Josephine?” Lydia asked as soon as she stepped in the garage.

Seo Joon looked up, ceasing his arm momentarily. He was currently cleaning and waxing the car, preparing it for Evie’s transport to the church in a few hours.

“What about them?” he asked.

Lydia hurried over to him, and before she continued, she rose onto her toes and greeted him with a kiss.

“I can’t stay very long,” she whispered. “I’ve got to help Lady Evie get ready. But I’ve only just heard the news, and I wanted to tell you before anyone else did.”

“What news? What’s going on?”

Lydia smirked, and Seo Joon’s heart skipped a beat at how breathtakingly attractive she was.

“Well, Lady Josephine started volunteering at the orphanage a couple of days ago, upon Lady Evie’s suggestion... and now she and Brian have adopted a child!”

Seo Joon’s eyes widened immediately. “What?!”

“A six-year-old girl named Daisy!” Lydia giggled, nodding vigorously. “Can you believe it?!”

Seo Joon was about to answer that no, he could not believe it...

But he stopped himself.

Because this was Lady Josephine they were talking about.

“Actually... I can,” he said.

Lydia simply giggled again before saying, “I know, me too.”

A smile curved Seo Joon’s lips, and he leaned down to kiss her again. Just because.

“I must go back to Lady Evie,” she whispered. “And you must get the car looking absolutely gleaming for when you drive her to the church.”

“That I do,” Seo Joon murmured. But he kissed her once more for good measure before she scurried out of the garage and back into the house.

Evie was up in her bedroom waiting for Lydia, after all, her wedding dress hanging up and all of her jewel-encrusted pins laid out on her vanity. She was waiting to be transformed into a bride.

Part 3

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spampistefania · 4 years

Text

stefania spampinato & volver transcripted livestream

Interviewer — Going to the USA is a dream for many actors, not everyone succeed in it, it’s a pipe dream. But our guest did it and it wasn’t even her main goal. Let’s hear it from her. Today we have Stefania Spampinato!

I — Hi Stefania, you’re beautiful!

Stefania – Good Morning!

I – How are you?

S – I’m fine! What about you?

I – So, why did I start with this song? I read a lot about you. We barely know each other, but I read about you because I wanted to know everything apart from the things you’ve already told me... So I found out that Brazilian songs make you happy. So I was thinking, what could I sing? I’m so bad at English, I tried every song..., “My way”, but then no, I wanted something happy, so I wanted to dedicate this song to you.

S – You did the right thing! It’s an happy song, and it’s Brazilian. It’s evening there now, and here it’s morning but that’s still good.

I – It’s morning there, but you look amazing. You look relaxed!

S - Yeah, I had my coffee, I woke up...

I – There are so many people in the comments who are sending the Brazilian flag. Because there are people from all over the world. There are so many questions!

S – I receive lot of questions from young actors who want to start this career, so it gets hard to answer to all of them. So... this is a great opportunity, doing it in Italian. I really liked this idea!

I – So let’s start with this. Explain what they ask you.

S – "How can I get to the USA?" All I can do is telling my experience but everyone has their own story. I also started doing the dance thing, I went to London first and from London I came to LA to still dance and then I ended up doing something different. But I studied dancing, singing and acting in Italy with the intention of doing musicals. Then I focused most on the dancing thing and once in LA I started studying acting. But I paid my dues, it’s not like I arrived and I said “Here I am”... no. The most difficult part in the USA is getting a visa, it’s really hard to get because you need to have a solid resumè, so if you didn’t work before it’s hard to arrive to the USA. My advice is to study in Italy or England or in France.

I – They ask if you can suggest some schools?

S – (I didn't understand this part, sorry!)

I – What are you doing during this time? What are you doing since you can’t act?

S – Before the pandemic, during the movie with Siani I saw him directing, I was close with the editor and I got passionate about directing, so in the USA I asked to the GA & the S19 showrunner if I could be a shadow to the director. So I was there 14 hours just to see him directing and then I started working on my short film... but during this pandemic I tried to end this idea of the short film.

I – There are so many English people here, do you want to say hi in English? There are so many people who want to learn Italian because of you!

S – I'm so sorry this one is in italian and a lot of you are not gonna understand much, but [...] (she talks about sending questions in english). There are lots of Brazilian, Argentinian fans!

I – Even from Chile! So, many people are asking what are the differences between USA and Italy?

S – Honestly, in the USA there are more money. But I’m part of two famous tv series. The thing that is better is that on Italian set you feel like a family. In Italy the assistant would come with some pizza and say “it is right out of the oven, eat it before shooting the scene”. In America this wouldn’t happen. In the morning in Italy you would have espresso all together and so the atmosphere is more familiar. Even behind the scenes, in the USA is the place where there are the director and the writer, the actors are not allowed. Instead in Italy you can talk to the director, you can participate more.

I – Did you have difficulties during auditions, because you were Italian?

S – For the foreign people are all the same. There is no difference between Spanish, Italian. Then if you are a good-looking guy or girl they may think “he was a model and and now he wants to be an actor”. So that’s the vibe when you get into the audition room. So you have to work harder to prove yourself, and to show that you deserve it.

I – I mean just thinking about the green card, I mean I didn’t came here for fun, I earned it.

S – Well, about the green card... there are people who can obtain the green card easily, because they want to do the acting thing just to become famous, not because they are passionate about it. And to them they say “no, no”. They give you the opportunity to show them that you are worth it.

I – What was you reaction when you got the part for Carina? Your reaction and your family’s reaction?

S – The night before the audition I was at my acting class and I was crying because of my Italian accent. With the accent I could have just Italian roles. So I was crying. The next day I arrived, and when I got into the room the casting director was like “let’s see another one” but then during the audition they asked me a question, they made me do the scene another time, they made me improvise. And they told me "don’t’ go back to Italy". The next morning, they told me “see you at the table read!” So, I laughed, I cried. My neighbors wanted to call the police. I didn’t tell anything to my family until 2 weeks later because I heard about people who were fired after the table read, so I was scared. When the news were officially out I told everyone. My best friend is a huge Grey's Anatomy fan, so I was really excited to tell her.

I – Having Giacomo there helped? I mean, someone you could speak Italian with...

S – Yes!

I – How did you feel when you got on the set of GA?

S – It was unreal. Ellen Pompeo is the one who says hi to you. I couldn’t believe it!

I – What did you like about playing an LGBT character? And how much Stefania there is in Carina?

S – I really like playing an LGBT character, because it doesn’t happen a lot that an Italian is chosen to represent this community, so it was a new thing. Also because lot of Italian teenagers don't have a person who can represent them in that way. So being an European girl, bisexual, without limits. I was so happy.

I – Yeah, because you are a doctor who studies women’s brain during orgasms, right? Does it really exist this kind of doctor? Do you guys prepare for these things?

S – Yes, these people exist. In fact, I talked to an Italian doctor who was doing this study in London... I read some books, “The multiorgasmic woman” is what is called.

I – I didn’t know that. I thought it was fictional!

S – GA is based on real things, and about the second question... Carina taught me so much. Because I’m Sicilian, I grew up in a small town and despite the fact that my mom was super open-minded, I grew up in a conservative world. So Carina taught me to be more relaxed, to not be afraid of saying things.

I – She is the one who taught you something! And between Arizona and Maya, which one is the story couple you would like to live? (I don’t know if this is right!)

S – Maya! As soon as we read the script – we say this a lot – everyone got quiet and there were 5 seconds of silence, because everyone was surprised by the chemistry that was there.

I – Were you on Station 19?

S – Yes!

I – What if they told you that you became an important character on S19 and you had to choose between S19 and GA?

S – Well... S19 is a show that talks about firefighters so I don’t know how an OB could fit in it.

I – Now that Arizona is gone, why they don’t write a storyline about Carina? But everything's stopped there, you are not shooting, right?

S – No, we are not. GA didn’t finish the last 4 episode. They told it would have started again this week but I don’t think it has. What about Italy?

I – We should start “phase 3” on the 3rd of June. So they would like to start again from mid June/July. We hope it won’t be in September. Also, many people want you back in Italy. Speaking about Italy... you were in (Alessandro) Siani’s movie. You were Flavia, a scientist, a good one. Then there’s a love story with him. How was working with him? Is he really selfless?

S – He was super busy because he was the writer, the director and the actor. There were scripted scenes, but we improvised a lot and that was very funny. I liked how the love story was written because it was fresh and not so much romantic.

I – It's a really great movie. There are people here saying "you’re beautiful", "ti amo", "English please!"...

S – Most of my live are in english so...

I – Do you dream in Italian or in English? Do you feel uncomfortable with the actors on set?

S – I don’t know... For example, I had some builder who were speaking Spanish and I started speaking Spanish and dreaming in Spanish.

I – Which role of a movie you saw that you would have liked to play?

S – Rosario Dowson’s role in “Sette Anime” di Gabriele Muccino!

I – And a director you would like to work with?

S – It’s not easy. Because maybe some of them do great thing but you don’t get along with them. But the director of S19... he tells you a specific thing and it changes everything. And I didn’t expect that a person with so much experience would dedicate so much time to an actor.

I – It’s hard to create empathy...

S – That’s why I decided to start directing. I had some scenes with Danielle, and she had to cry, and on TV Shows the director usually don’t give you so much time, so we, as actors, help each other. So it’s beautiful to tell an actor to say “do that”.

I – What kind of movies would you like to direct? Horror, action?

S – No, horror no! They make me anxious. I like romantic comedies, but also dramatic movies.

I – Do you live love with yearning?

S – (I didn't understand this part, sorry!)

I – Can I tell you something? Thank God. If you have the passion about directing you have to protect it. Can you say something in Sicilian?

S – I’ll tell you something that my mom always said and that my sister and I want to tattoo on our ankle: “zita sempre maritata mai” (always in a relationship but never married).

I – She's right! The problem is that we always fall for it. As women, we are always romatic, the prince charming arrives with his white horse. Do you know what a Brazilian friend of mine say? My prince charming’s horse is a little bit hurt (I don’t know how to translate it). At the beginning the prince is perfect and then… Apart your relationship with you boyfriend or husband or whatever, can you say that your job is your second love? I don’t want to put it first.

S – When you work harder for something you want to do, it’s amazing!

I – A Brazilian asked “did she talked about an husband?” I don’t know, I just said boyfriend, husband and we don’t care. We also have to say goodbye. I’m happy we had you here in this live. Thank you, bye!

S - Bye!

——————————————

special thanks to the queen paola for translating it from italian to english! 💜

#stefania spampinato #carina deluca #stefania spampinato gifs #greys anatomy #stefania spampinato interview #station 19 #acting #tv shows

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here4theheartbreak · 5 years

Text

Stretched to the Breaking Point (Ot7)

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: Hoseok x Jimin x Jin x Jungkook x Namjoon x Taehyung x Yoongi (ot7) Genre(s): angst, fluff

Written for @btspolyshipbingo

Square Filled: Bed Sharing Tags: angst, fluff, polyamory, ot7, canon compliant, set in 2016, slice of life, miscommunication Summary: Jin’s exhausted after 4 years solid of picking up after/for the absolute loves of his life. He wants to prove he’s useful, but is this really how he’s going to have to do it?

Word Count: ~7.1k

A/N: This fulfills a request a got quite a while ago about Jin being stressed at being the eldest but hiding it. I turned it poly, I hope that’s okay!

‘Please pick up some lamb when you go shopping today, hyung? I’ve been dying for your skewers.’

Jin sighed a little at the text from Taehyung. He shifted the basket in his arm to type a reply when a text from Namjoon came in.

‘Hey I know you’re busy but you could stop by the office and grab my hard drive? It’s the red one, I don’t want to bug manager.’

Jin responded with a simple yes, and went back to typing his response for Taehyung. He had just pocketed his phone and headed in the direction of the meat when his phone buzzed again.

He pulled it out to see a text from Jimin,

‘Hey, can you stop by the pharmacy on your way home? My knees are really aching and we’re all out of painkillers. The heating packs aren’t doing it for me.’

Jin sighed again. He responded to Jimin, telling him to check his bedroom in the desk for painkillers, but decided to pick some up anyway. He continued on his shopping trip, arm beginning to ache from the weight of the basket. It had been a trip just for a few items, but the requests had rolled in as soon as word got out among the group that Jin was going shopping.

It was always like this, from pre-debut to now. Please get this, help with that, save me from this… Jin didn’t mind. He knew he shouldn’t mind, at least. He was the eldest, and these guys relied on him for a lot. But sometimes it was just too much.

He loved each member dearly, no one could question that. Both on the surface, the ways fans saw them, as brothers who would die for one another and friends until the very end of the earth, and behind the scenes, the less publicized affection. The nights spent in one another’s beds and quick kisses shared behind the camera before concerts and stages.

Sometimes Jin wondered if it was the pure unorthodox nature of their relationship that set him so on edge sometimes. He’d always grown up being told he would find some woman to marry - a single, solitary female, that he was meant to fall in love with, marry, and give children.

He knew it was bullshit - he’d never been much into women and the idea of monogamy was dull at best. He loved all six of his band mates and boyfriends. Some he was more intimate with, some more emotionally attached to, and some he’d only ever cuddled and shared a kiss or two. Yoongi and Namjoon were first, followed closely by Taehyung and then Jimin and Hoseok. Jungkook fell quickly into a relationship with Taehyung, but Jin had resisted. He’d worried about Jungkook’s age, and accidental manipulation. But just like with the others, Jungkook had a piece of his heart too big to ignore.

Outside of the relationship though, Jin was still the eldest. Both within the company, within the fan base, and even within the dorm, he was just expected to handle certain things that he’d never been asked to handle on his own before. He didn’t question it, didn’t shy away from it. The six men that held his heart so firmly needed him in these ways, and he would rather die than let them down.

He knew sometimes he should ask for help. He knew they would freely give as much as they took. But the idea of burdening them at all, especially when he was their support... The idea made him sick. So he kept quiet and planted a grin on his face. He cooked and bandaged Jimin’s injuries. He listened to Yoongi’s rough tracks and helped Jungkook do his homework in time for practice. He held Taehyung’s hand when he got scared or cried and watched Hoseok work on dance routines. He stood by Namjoon - his first kiss and their leader - no matter what the situation.

He set aside his worries and woes because that’s what a good eldest does, and what a good boyfriend does.

He wrapped his own injuries in solitude, so the others wouldn’t worry. Locked himself in the shower when things got to be too much and he just needed to cry. Stood at the front and made a fool of himself so the others could relax. Figured out his own homework assignments crammed somewhere between the hours working. Smiled and cooked and cleaned and kept his chin up. Because if he crumbled, what would happen to the rest?

Jin balanced bags in his arms as he walked through the apartment. It had taken two hours longer than planned, but he got everything. Jimin hurried to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Did you remember?”

“Of course, they’re in one of these bags. Give me a minute.”

Jungkook raced down the hall, nearly barreling into Jin as he passed. “Sorry, hyung!” He screamed, darting into the laundry room.

“Wh—“

Taehyung bumped into him, sending one of the smaller bags toppling to the ground. “Sorry!” He shouted, following after Jungkook.

Jin bit back the urge to yell at him. Instead he hurried to the kitchen before any more bags could fall, setting them on the counter. Jimin began to pull items out as he walked back to the main room to gather the fallen items.

“Did you get my harddrive?” Namjoon asked. Jin dug in his pocket, fishing it out and handing it over to him without looking up. Namjoon took it quickly. “Thank you!”

Jin watched his bare feet pad away and duck into the bedroom. He sighed softly, rising with the bag.

“Crap, you’re home already?” Hoseok asked.

“I was gone three hours.”

“I needed another can of cooling spray, I was hoping you could pick it up.”

“Ah...” Jin shrugged. “Lemme put this stuff away and start dinner. I’ll run out and get it.”

“You don’t have to.”

Jin cocked an eyebrow. “How low are you?”

“Ah... I’m out.” Hoseok rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke.

“I’ll get it.”

Hoseok grinned broadly. “Thank you, Jin-hyung. You’re the best.” He pecked Jin’s mouth.

Jin entered the kitchen, his heart sinking when he saw the purchases scattered on the counter. Jimin was nowhere to be found, clearly having found the item he needed in particular. Jin rolled his eyes and chuckled. He set to work putting everything away.

Jin ran to the store once more, gathering the forgotten items. He made dinner and cleaned up, then worked on some of the choreography he’d been struggling with with Hoseok. He fell into bed late in the evening, a little surprised - and a little disappointed - to find it entirely empty.

Jin woke early Monday morning. He padded out to the kitchen to start breakfast, enjoying the few minutes of quiet before the others woke. He opened his laptop and textbook, skimming over his homework assignment as he stirred the food on the stove.

He put it on low, going to dig Jungkook’s backpack out of the closet. Just a few more months and he’d be officially graduated, all the members were ecstatic. He considered what to get Jungkook as a graduation present as he packed him a snack and double checked that his homework and gym clothes were in place.

He’d just turned back to the stove when a loud crash broke the silence. It was followed by a string of profanity that only Namjoon could put together. Jin turned to grab their first aid kit, counting down from five. As soon as he hit one, Namjoon rushed into the kitchen, holding his bleeding hand.

“Jin-hyung!”

“Come here.” Jin held up a bandage. He helped Namjoon wash and clean the cut, making sure it didn’t need medical attention. He bandaged it and pressed a kiss to Namjoon’s lips. “Be more careful.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“Breakfast is almost done.”

Namjoon nodded. Jin watched him disappear back down the hall of their bedrooms.

Right on cue, the others began to wake and pile into the kitchen. Jin served each, answering questions and listening to complaints. Jungkook rubbed his eyes, last in line.

“Did you—“

“Backpack is ready.”

“Awesome. Will you give me a lift today? Manager was supposed to but Yoongi-hyung was talking about how he didn’t feel well yesterday. I wanted to let him rest. Since you’re up—“

Jin glanced at his own neglected homework.

“Sure. Hurry and eat then we’ll go.”

Jungkook beamed. He hugged Jin tightly, kissing his cheek. “You’re the best.”

“I know. Come on.”

Jin joined the others already eating, listening to them talk and argue over various things. He couldn’t help but smile fondly as he listened.

After eating he hurried to get Jungkook to his school, mentally making his to do list for the day even as Jungkook rambled about one of his teachers.

Homework that was due today, practice in an hour, a meeting with the office later, more practice, he should make an appearance on social media, he needed to start dinner at some point, pick Jungkook up, not in that order... And—

“Hyung!” Jin looked over, smiling sheepishly.

“Sorry. Up in my head.”

“I can tell... See you after?”

“Sure. Hurry out though, you have vocal practice right after.”

Jungkook nodded. He pressed a kiss to Jin’s mouth quickly, grinning. He snagged his backpack and hurried out of the car before Jin could scold him about getting caught. Jin watched him walk, meeting up with a few other students as they entered the school.

Jin kicked his shoes off and hung his jacket when he returned to the dorm. He entered the kitchen to grab his homework and stopped short. The sink was piled with dirty breakfast dishes, remains of the food not put away. A glance at the table showed it was still a mess as well. Jin’s shoulders sagged. He looked at his textbook and laptop for a moment before closing the lid of the laptop and setting to work cleaning up the breakfast remains.

He finished in record time and settled into a corner of the kitchen to do his homework when Taehyung’s shout echoed through the dorm.

“Fuck you! I know you have it!”

Jin scrambled to his feet and raced through their home.

“Bite me! I didn’t touch the stupid laptop!” Yoongi snapped.

“Whoa, whoa, what’s the problem?” Jin shouted, pushing open the door of one of the bedrooms.

Taehyung and Yoongi were nearly nose to nose. Taehyung’s cheeks were blotchy with strain.

“He stole my laptop!”

“Why would I steal that beat up thing?! I have my own!”

“Guys, breathe.” Jin raised his hands and stepped forward. “Where did you see it last, Taehyung?”

“It was on the couch!”

“Okay... And why do you think Yoongi took it?”

“Because he admitted it!” Taehyung stepped forward to shove Yoongi but Jin farted between them.

“Whoa, stop. He just said he didn’t.”

“I moved it off the fucking couch so no one would sit on it. I put it on the shelf. I don’t know what happened to it after.”

Jin nodded. “Okay, fine. Have you checked the shelf, Tae?”

“Have I checked the shelf?” Taehyung mimicked. “Of course I checked the shelf, I’m not an idiot, Jin-hyung!”

“I’m just saying, it could have been overlooked. There’s no reason for Yoongi to take it.”

“You’re always on his fucking side! Just because he was around first doesn’t mean he’s always right!”

Jin’s face sank. “I’m not always on his side, Taehyung. He just doesn’t have a reason for taking it.”

“To be a dick! And you are always on his side! You never support me when we argue! If you’re not gonna help just go away!” Taehyung planted his hands on Jin’s chest and shoved hard.

Jin stumbled backwards, trying to avoid Yoongi. He tripped over a pair of jeans on the floor and went down, bashing his hip on the sharp corner of the bedside stand. A sharp pain shot through him and he cried out.

“Hyung!” Taehyung cried, surprise clear in his voice.

Jin scrambled up, tears blurring his vision and burning his throat. He could hear Yoongi and Taehyung both calling for him as he rushed to the bathroom.

He slammed the door, locking it and sliding onto the floor. The tears overflowed and he began to cry into his arms, his side aching. He could feel a wetness and knew he’d likely cut himself open, but couldn’t bring himself to care.

It was too much. Things had been building and building for years. He wanted to handle it, he wanted to make his boyfriends proud and happy. He wanted to make his family proud. But nothing was ever enough. Taehyung’s words cut deeper than the physical injury. He tried so hard to be fair. He hated knowing he didn’t do enough.

Admittedly, he never did enough. Hoseok always needed to work longer with him on dances, their vocal coaches longer on songs. He panicked easier in public and was less friendly with the fans. He hated it, and he hated himself.

A knock sounded at the door. “Hyung? Are you okay?” Taehyung’s voice was small.

“I’m fine, just cleaning the cut,” Jin called, trying to make his voice steady.

“Hyung, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, Taehyungie. I’ll help you look for your laptop as soon as I’m bandaged.”

Jin rose lifting his shirt. The cut wasn’t too bad, thankfully. He cleaned it as well as he could, blinking away his tears and struggling to stabilize his breathing. He could cry tonight. He had too much to do today. Washing his face quickly to hide his tears, he opened the door, coming face to face with a very guilty looking Taehyung and Yoongi.

“Namjoon-hyung texted... He took my laptop by accident to the studio this morning.”

Jin plastered a smile on his face. “Oh great, problem solved.”

“I don’t wanna ask but... Would you go exchange it?” He held up Namjoon’s laptop.

“We have practice in an hour.”

“Yeah, but Namjoon-hyung needs his now.”

Jin bit back his sigh. “Okay.” He took the laptop and headed toward the door.

“Hyung, your shirt!” Yoongi called, pointing to his side. Jin glanced down, seeing the blood from his injury.

“I’ll just wear my coat.” He tugged it on and his shoes, heading out before either could argue.

He arrived at the offic, nodding to a few of the staff as he hurried through to Namjoon’s studio. He knocked once before entering, setting the computer on Namjoon’s desk.

Namjoon smiled. “Hyung, thank you so much. Here.” He passed Jin Taehyung’s laptop. A scowl crossed his face.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Jin said, offering a smile he knew was a tiny bit too strained. Namjoon’s frown deepened.

“What’s the matter?”

Jin’s smile wavered. “Just a lot to do. Gotta go.”

“Hyung!” Namjoon shouted even as Jin hurried out of the office.

Jin got home just in time to hear yet another member shouting bloody murder. This time it was Jimin, hurling obscenities. He rushed in, narrowly missing a book that Jimin had chucked.

“What’s wrong?!” He shouted. Jimin stood up straight. His room was a mess, chair overturned and drawers ripped out.

“Who did this?”

“I did,” Jimin said.

“Why?”

“I can’t find my lyric notebook...”

Jin blinked at him. “The purple and black leather one?”

Jimin nodded, looking close to tears.

“Jimin... You left that in the living room. It’s under the TV with the other notebooks.”

Jimin’s entire body relaxed.

“Oh God, I forgot. Thank you!” He hurried past Jin, bumping into his hurt side as he did. Jin winced. He surveyed the damage done to the room, shaking his head. Hoseok was going to flip out if it wasn’t cleaned.

“Jimin—“

Jin turned just in time to see Jimin darting out of the apartment, notebook in hand.

“Guess not,” he mumbled. He leaned down, picking up a pile of clothes and beginning to fold them.

He finished in time to get to dance practice, at least, rushing in and apologizing to the dance teacher for being a few minutes tardy.

“What took so long?” Hoseok hissed when Jin stood next to him.

“Oh— Mess at the house. Lost track of time.” Jin said. He grimaced as he began to stretch, his side aching. He tuned his focus completely to learning the new choreography, ignoring everything else for the moment.

Afterward, Jin ducked down the hall to meet with a few members of the production team about one of his parts that needed fixing. His side was aching something horrible and panic was beginning to set in with how late he was on his homework. Still he smiled and listened, scheduling a time to re-record a part of the track. He left to pick up Jungkook and pick up lunch for the rest of the group immediately after, keeping a list as they texted him their requests.

The rest of the day flew by, as it always seemed to. Get Jungkook, get their lunches, go back to the office. Sing, dance, work out. He ended up with Jungkook, Jimin, and Yoongi in his car on the way back, the younger two talking a mile a minute in the back seat. Yoongi was sitting sullenly most of the ride home.

“How’s your side?” He finally asked.

“Oh, it’s fine. Just a scratch,” Jin lied, not wanting him to feel worse.

“Would you mind listening to a new beat I’ve been working on? I need another ear.”

“Sure. I have to start dinner, but I can listen while it’s cooking.”

“Thank you. Sorry about getting you involved earlier.”

“Tae’s screaming did that. No harm though, it was all resolved.”

Yoongi nodded. Jin could feel him watching him quietly the rest of the way home, but said nothing. He didn’t want Yoongi to worry; the guy had enough worries as it was.

Jin began dinner almost as soon as they made it back. He opened his textbook again, a vain hope to get work done. “Jungkook!” He called when he saw the other on the couch. “Homework?”

“Just a math sheet.”

“Need help?”

“Probably.”

“Bring it here and start on it.”

“Hyung, can you listen?” Yoongi asked. He was standing near the counter, computer and headphones in hand. Jin nodded. He covered the stew and wiped his hands, taking the headphones. Yoongi started playing the track while Jungkook leaned against the counter, pencil and notebook in hand.

Jin’s brows furrowed as he listened. He didn’t know why Yoongi asked his opinion on this — Namjoon and Hoseok, even Jimin we’re far better, but he knew it was his job to try.

“I like it,” he said when it ended. “I think it needs something else, like... Under the beat? If that makes sense.”

Yoongi’s brows furrowed. He nodded, setting his laptop on the counter as he grabbed a water from the fridge. “That makes sense. You might be right. Thanks, hyung!” He headed out and Jin headed back to the stove.

“Tell me if you have trouble, JK.”

Jungkook nodded, scratching his ear with the pencil as he looked at the worksheet.

Jin smiled fondly, watching him for a moment. He continued to stir dinner as he read over his own textbook.

Jin worked with Jungkook throughout the dinner making process, and again after serving everyone.

He could hear the others wrestling in the living room as he cleaned the dishes, and a worry set in about what they’d make a mess of. His homework had piled much higher than intended with the chaos of the day. He needed to check his side, and he needed to work on his moves for their new choreography.

After cleaning up, he re-bandaged his side, glad the choreography didn’t do too much damage today. He double checked Jungkook’s homework before slipping it into his bag.

The living room quieted down finally, a signal the others had gone to bed or at least to their rooms.

The mess, however, remained. Jin bit back his thousandth sigh of the day, making a mental note to apologize to his parents; he prayed he wasn’t this stressful as a child. It took nearly an hour to clean up and return to his own room to -hopefully- get his own homework finished.

Jin’s vision blurred the second he opened his textbook. His head was pounding and exhaustion hit him like a truck. He tried over and over to read through his chapter, having to stop and reread. He could hear muffled noises from at least two of his boyfriends in another room. The sound made him ache with a sudden, surprising loneliness. He realized, aside from quick pecks on the mouth, he’d not had a moment with anyone in weeks. He’d been so busy running errands and cleaning, balancing their schedules and his own.

His vision blurred for an entirely different reason. He snapped his book shut and rose, padding over to his, once again, empty bed. Anger flushed his cheeks and he grabbed his pillow, flinging it across the room. He shouted into his fist, not wanting to draw attention.

Still overwhelmed, Jin began to beat on his other pillow, hot tears streaking down his cheeks. He collapsed to the floor, his back to the bed. He hugged the pillow he’d beaten, sobbing and yelling into it.

It hurt to cry, it hurt to admit his weakness even to himself. He should be stronger for them - for his family, both chosen and blood. But it also felt good, letting all of the stress and overwhelming emotions drain out.

Jin didn’t know how long he’d been sobbing when the hand landed on his shoulder. He startled, whipping his head up. Namjoon was looking at him wide wide, worried eyes.

“You scared me!” He scolded. Then softer, “What did you need?”

“Why are you crying?”

Jin wiped his eyes. “Nothing, just— Nothing.” He rose and turned, his heart leaping into his throat.

Everyone was in the room. Jungkook was hanging onto Yoongi, concern and fear etched on his pretty features. Yoongi’s eyes were filled with concern. Taehyung looked close to tears, holding Jimin’s hand. Hoseok’s mouth was a thin line, his expression unreadable.

“Wh— What? Why are you all in here?” Jin asked, panic squeezing his throat.

“Yoongi-hyung got us. He came in to ask you about a track... And found you sobbing,” Hoseok said.

“What’s wrong, Jin-hyung?”

“Why did you get everyone?” Jin asked, looking at Yoongi.

“Because you’re not okay. You keep saying you are but... You were crying when you broke up the fight between me and Taehyung.”

“You weren’t okay when you dropped off my computer,” Namjoon added.

“You were distracted all morning and even this evening,” Jungkook said.

“You didn’t tell us you were hurt,” Jimin added, touching his own side.

“I’m fine. I’m just a little stressed, no more than usual,” Jin said. He scrubbed his hands over his face and planted a smile.

“I gotta get up early though, and still have a ton of assignments to do. Sorry for worrying you guys, but I’m okay. You can go back to bed.”

“You haven’t slept with anyone in a month, hyung,” Jimin said softly.

“You’ve all had others to stay with.” Jin said. He slid between the group members and sat down at his desk, opening the textbook again.

“You haven’t made love to... Anyone... In at least as long.”

Jin’s jaw twitched. “You’ve all had others.”

“You make it sound like you’re not welcome to join. Like we’re not all seven.”

“I’ve been kind of busy.”

“Too busy to be with us?” Namjoon scolded.

“Yeah.”

“How?” Taehyung asked.

“Our schedules,” Jin tried.

“We all have the same schedules,” Jungkook said. “And I have school. I still make time for the guys.”

“Fine. Cooking. Breakfast and dinner, getting lunch for everyone. Driving Jungkook to school. Cleaning house over and over. Picking up rooms after members trash them in a fit. Breaking up fights. Taking extra choreography time because I’m not near as good as others. Meetings to fix vocals I’ve messed up. Spending hours at the store shopping for all seven. Being there to bandage your legs and help with homework and listen to tracks. Cleaning the living room after everyone goes to bed so others don’t get in trouble for leaving messes. And then doing my own homework. Is that a full enough schedule to explain my distance?”

Jin’s voice wavered as he spoke, guilt telling him just to shut up, stop making trouble. He looked down at his textbook, surprised to see little circles of wetness. “Please. I have to finish this — It’s due in two hours. I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you all. I’ll... Tomorrow I’ll be better. I’ll do better going forward, okay? I just... Need you all to leave me alone tonight. I’m so sorry.”

Jin remained still, hating how visibly his shoulders shook as he struggled to keep himself together. He could hear the members leaving one by one, the air becoming thicker and thicker the fewer were around.

He knew he’d ruined it. They probably hated him for snapping. Tears worked their way down his cheeks once more, shame and guilt eating at his stomach. He struggled to focus on his homework, using all two hours available to finish. It was one in the morning when he finally fell into bed, crying himself to sleep. He would try to fix the damage he’d caused in the morning. Four hours of sleep, then he’d work harder, he promised himself.

The next morning, Jin rolled over, scowling at the ceiling. He could hear the members in the hallway, a streak of panic rushing through him. Did he sleep in? He checked his phone, almost more confused when he saw it was right at the time he was supposed to get up.

He rose, pulling on his hoodie. He winced at the injury from the day before but padded out to see what the ruckus was.

He slammed almost directly into Yoongi, who was piling laundry into Hoseok’s arms. He grinned at Jin and stopped for a second, pressing a kiss to Jin’s surprised mouth. “Morning.”

“M— Morning.”

“Do you have any dirty laundry?”

“Uh— y— yeah in the basket.” Jin motioned to the basket in the corner of his room. Yoongi slid past him to grab it. Hoseok smiled softly.

“Did you get your homework done?”

“Mm.. Mhm.”

“Good. Do you have any today?”

Jin nodded again, still bewildered. He turned and padded into the living room, where Namjoon was packing Jungkook’s backpack. The kitchen was full of activity as well, Jungkook and Jimin were making breakfast, laughing and dancing in the small space.

A swell of love and affection filled Jin’s chest as he watched them. Taehyung came out of the laundry room, catching Jin’s gaze. He rushed to grab one of their first aid kits and took Jin’s hand.

“Have you cleaned the cut?”

“Not yet.”

“Lemme help. Then you should go help Jungkookie before he burns down the whole dorm.”

“Hey, I can cook!” Jungkook shouted.

Taehyung ushered Jin into the bathroom, helping him clean the cut. He bandaged it despite Jin’s argument that it was fine.

“Go on.”

“Tae—“

“I’ll do dishes after breakfast, okay? Me and Namjoon-hyung decided to. So you can take Jungkook to school.”

Jin nodded, still unsure what was happening. He padded into the kitchen, taking the spoon from Jungkook. “I got it. Thank you.” Jungkook tilted his head a little, smiling.

“Will you take me to school today?”

Jin nodded, beginning to stir the food the two had made. Out of the corner of his eye, Jin saw Jimin take some of the laundry Hoseok and Yoongi were balancing, heading with them to the laundry room.

Jin served up the group as normal, sitting with them last. They were all eating and talking over one another, seemingly none the wiser than anything was different from normal. It was at that point that Jin wondered if maybe he’d imagined it. Was he hallucinating?

Taehyung rose from the table, gathering plates that were empty even as he laughed over a joke Jimin had told. Jungkook rose and took Jin’s hand.

“Ready? I have a test today, I can’t be late.”

“Is your backpack ready?” Jin asked, rising.

“Books, papers, gym stuff. Good to go,” Namjoon assured him. Jin grabbed his keys, letting Jungkook pull him out of the dorm.

Once in the car, Jungkook set his hand over Jin’s.

“Hyung...”

“What?”

“I’m sorry for being such a bastard. Thank you for being so good to me always.”

Jin smiled softly. He reached out, brushing Jungkook’s hair back.

“You’re not a bastard, JK.”

“I have been.” Jungkook leaned forward, pressing a desperate kiss to Jin’s mouth. “Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

Jin nodded. “Y— Yeah, of course.”

“Good. Let’s go.” Jungkook buckled up, holding his backpack to his chest and sitting forward. It took Jin a moment to remember he had to start the car to drive.

Jin headed back to the dorm, surprised to find the dishes done, as promised. Taehyung was sitting on the couch, playing on his phone.

“Hyung.”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry for pushing you yesterday. That was out of line. I hurt you and I shouldn’t have.”

“You were frustrated.”

“But it wasn’t your fault. You’re not always on Yoongi-hyung’s side... You treat us the most fair during fights. I was being a brat.”

Jin shrugged awkwardly, unsure how to respond. Taehyung rose, snuggling himself against Jin. “I love you, hyungie.”

“I know. I love you too.” Jin kissed Taehyung’s forehead.

“Can I sleep with you?”

“Jungkook already asked.”

“I know. We can both share you... If you want.”

Jin smiled. “Of course I do.”

“What are you doing until practice?”

“Hm... Normally I do the dishes and clean up but... That’s done. I should check on the laundry the guys put in earlier.”

“Yoongi’s finishing that. He’s got the timer.”

“Oh. I mean, I guess I’ll do homework...” Jin said.

Taehyung nodded. “If you wanna take a break, I have a new game I got on my phone, I’ll show it to you, you might like it.”

“Sure. Thanks.” Jin cocked his head a little, heading toward his bedroom.

He started in on his homework, a little amazed that there hadn’t been an interruption yet.

He spoke too soon, however, because as soon as he’d fallen into a good rhythm, Jin’s phone buzzed. It was a text from Jimin.

‘Hey, hyung... I wanted to thank you for cleaning my room. It was wrecked and you didn’t have to do that. I would’ve deserved Hobi-hyung’s wrath. Just... thanks. A lot.’

Jin smiled a little. ‘His wrath would have hit all of us with how bad that room was. You’re welcome though. Maybe next time.... Clean up before bolting?’

‘Or just ask you before trashing the place. Thanks for always having my back, even if I don’t always act grateful for it.’

‘It’s ok, Jimin.’

‘Hyung?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Can I sleep in your bed tonight?’

‘You’ll have to share the space with Jk and Tae.’

‘That’s okay.’

‘Then yeah.’

Jin smiled a little as he read over the messages. Jimin responded to his final answer with a photo of himself giving a heart. He was shirtless, sweat pouring down his face. ‘Don’t work out too hard,’ Jin scolded before setting his phone down to get back to work. His mind kept drifting, but in a different way. Maybe they didn’t all hate him. The way Jungkook and Jimin and Taehyung had apologized, the care they put into not overwhelming him this morning… Maybe he didn’t mess things up so badly.

A knock sounded at Jin’s door.

“It’s open,” he called, jotting down another note before looking up. Yoongi was in the doorway, an armful of freshly folded clothes.

“Done.”

“You can just put them on the bed… Thanks for doing that.”

Yoongi did as he was told and went to the desk, leaning his hip on it. He fiddled with his hands, chewing his lip.

“Need something?” Jin asked.

“I was wrong to take advantage of you.”

“What?”

“I’ve been taking advantage of you. You’re always willing to listen and help and I knew that so I used it. I care about you and it was shitty of me to do that.”

“We all do things for ourselves. It’s okay.”

Yoongi reached out and squeezed Jin’s hand. “I wanna sleep with you tonight.”

“Gonna have to move to a bigger bed,” Jin said.

“What?”

“Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook all asked to sleep with me.”

“We’ll push two beds together.”

Jin chuckled. “Alright, if you want to.”

Yoongi nodded. “Will you lemme ride with you to the studio?”

“Sure. I’m going here in a bit, after this assignment, I have to work on some parts I didn’t do right in recording.”

“No problem, I need to talk to Namjoon about something anyway. Call me when you’re ready to go.”

Jin nodded, watching Yoongi walk out. He turned back to his homework.

Jin ducked into Adora’s office as soon as he, Yoongi, and Taehyung arrived at the studios, spending time redoing some parts of songs.

When it was time for lunch, he sent a quick message to the group, asking everyone what they wanted.

Instead of the normal flood of requests, just Hoseok texted back, ‘Just pick up whatever you’re craving - you know what we like, hyung’

Jin’s expression must have been one of pure confusion. “You okay?” Adora asked.

Jin nodded, setting his phone down. “They’re being weird.”

“The guys?”

Jin nodded again.

“Did you guys fight?”

“Last night yeah, but today... I don’t know. I’m just stressed.” Jin grinned at her. “Let’s finish up this part, I gotta get lunch and pick up Jungkookie.”

Jin entered the practice room, arms stacked full of lunches. Jungkook followed after, carrying drinks. The others rushed up, taking containers and passing them out. They scattered on the floor, crouching, sprawled out, kneeling, cross legged, as they began to eat. Hoseok settled next to Jin, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Thanks.”

“For what?”

“Lunch.”

Jin cocked his head. “I always get lunch.”

“And I don’t think I’ve ever said thank you. I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for… Anything, honestly. In all these years. That was kinda shitty of me, as your team mate… But also as your boyfriend. I’m sorry for that, Jin-hyung.”

Jin smiled softly. He reached out, stroking his thumb over Hoseok’s jaw. “It’s okay. You’re all here for me. That’s what matters.”

Hoseok smiled a little sadly. “I hate… Asking but… Can I have a favor?”

“What’s up?” Jin asked, finally tearing into his food.

“Could I sleep with you tonight?”

“Aw, Hobi… I’d love to say yes, but… I’ve already got four members who’ve asked.”

“I’m skinny.”

Jin smiled softly, shaking his head. “You deal with their bitching then, I won’t say no. If you all can fit, I have no problem with that.”

Hoseok beamed. He leaned against Jin as he ate.

Practice lasted a few more hours before their dance teacher let them go. Jin ended up with the youngest three on his way home. Jungkook was already working on homework, muttering soft threats at the other two who kept interrupting him.

Once inside, Jin immediately started in on dinner, a little surprised to see Namjoon loitering in the kitchen.

“Do you need something?”

“Well… Kinda. You don’t have to make dinner tonight.”

“You wanna deal with a starving Jungkookie?” Jin teased.

“I can order. Let’s just order something.”

“Why?”

Namjoon looked down. “Because I think we all need to have a talk and I’d rather do it now.”

Jin hesitated but nodded. “Okay. Go ahead and order. Or do you want me?”

“I already did. It’ll be here soon… Come into the living room, hyung.”

“This sounds serious… Is this where you break up with me?” Jin half joked. His smile faded when Namjoon didn’t laugh.

He followed him into the living room, seeing the others already grouped around their coffee table. Jin sat on the floor at the head of it, looking around at everyone.

“Guys?”

“Jin-hyung… We’ve been together for years,” Namjoon said. “One way or another. Friends, teammates, lovers… For four years.”

Jin nodded.

“We’ve gone through a lot. We rely on you… A lot more than we realize, I think.”

Jin lowered his head, guilt forming in the pit of his stomach. “I know… I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Yoongi asked.

“I let you guys down, didn’t I? Yesterday… Snapping… The way I’ve been lately…”

“You’ve been taking care of us for four years, Jin-hyung,” Jimin said. “You used to buy us food when we were hungry without ever asking for anything back.”

“You always take me to school,” Jungkook said.

“You support me no matter what, listening to my tracks, offering advice in the most supportive, positive way,” Yoongi said.

“You were the first one to hug me,” Taehyung whispered, “and to tell me I was cool.”

“You work so hard to impress us, to impress the fans, to prove yourself – harder than half us put together,” Hoseok said.

“You stand by me no matter what city or country we’re in, and support me both as your friend and your leader,” Namjoon said.

“You have never let us down, Seokjin-hyung,” Yoongi said firmly.

“We let you down,” Jimin whispered.

“How?” Jin asked.

“We’ve been taking advantage of you for so long. And how many times have we said thank you?” Namjoon asked. “Over and over… When Yoongi-hyung caught you crying and you yelled… Do you know what we did? We came out here and talked. We talked about what your day was like. About what every day has been like since we met. You work so hard for us, hyung. And you say nothing… You let us walk all over you. Why?”

Jin shrugged, hanging his head.

“Hyung…”

“I just want to feel like I’m useful. Like I give something to the group. I wanted to give you guys a reason to love me… Keep me around,” he whispered.

“We do love you. And we want you around. If you keep working yourself into the ground like this… We won’t have you. You need to let us help. And you need to say no sometimes. You aren’t our maid, or our servant. You’re our lover. You don’t need to do everything… Even if we’re useless.”

“That means maybe I get shouted at by Hobi-hyung for my mess, maybe I learn,” Jimin said.

“Maybe Yoongi-hyung and I fight, we always make up,” Taehyung said.

“Maybe I mess up some homework, or have to go to someone else for help, there’s seven of us,” Jungook said.

“It’s not all on you, hyung,” Hoseok said. “We miss you… The real you, not the exhausted one.”

“Cuddling and laughing and… Other stuff,” Namjoon said, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’re sorry, Jin-hyung… Can you forgive us?”

Jin chuckled a little. “I was never mad... There’s nothing to forgive.”

“Yeah, there is. And tell us when we’re being pushy shits okay? We’re gonna try to help around the house more. We’ll work out a schedule or something,” Namjoon said.

“Just don’t let Namjoonie cook,” Yoongi lamented.

Namjoon chucked one of the throw pillows on the couch at him, smacking him in the face with it. Jin laughed a little despite himself.

Namjoon climbed closer to him and pulled him into a kiss. “We have a lot of fixing to do, but trust us to do it, okay? We’ll get better for you. For us all.”

Jin ran his fingers through Namjoon’s hair. He nodded. “I trust you. All of you. I’m sorry I stayed quiet for so long too.”

“We all fucked up.” Hoseok said. “We can all work to get better.”

Jungkook perked up when the buzzer sounded.

“Food! Taehyungie-hyung, help?” Taehyung rose and followed Jungkook out to get the food.

Namjoon nuzzled Jin’s neck, kissing it gently.

“Hyung?”

“Hm?”

“Can I share your bed tonight?”

“Mind sharing it with five others?”

“Aw, I asked too late?”

“No,”

Yoongi said. “I think... We seven can all fit. We could push a couple beds together. If worse comes to worse, we could drag some mattresses out and just have a floor party.”

Jin laughed a little. “Since when am I so popular?”

“We all miss you,” Jimin admitted. “It’s like a chunk of us has been getting farther and farther. We were just too stubborn to see it was partly our doing until you said it.”

“I’m right here,” Jin assured him.

“We aren’t letting you go,” Hoseok agreed.

The two returned with with food and all seven crowded around the table, sharing the containers and feeding one another. Despite the weight of the conversation they had just finished, they fell into their own comfortable rhythm almost immediately. Taehyung wormed his way into Jin’s lap, kissing over his neck even as Jin shared salt seasoned kisses with Yoongi. As the containers emptied and bellies filled, their casual touches became more intense. The seven piled onto the couch, limbs tangled together. They shifted and moved together, holding and kissing any member in their reach. Though it would be an early morning and they couldn’t do anything, the feeling alone was enough to settle into Jin’s bones. He was more content than he’d been in nearly three months.

Yoongi pried himself out of the pile, enlisting Jimin’s help in fixing the beds.

They returned, tugging up various members until the group got the hint and made their way to the bedroom. They stripped down, all piling into the beds.

Jin found himself in the middle of, and half crushed by, all six of his lovers. Under normal circumstances he’d complain, and he knew he’d get too hot in just a few hours. But their gentle touches and the featherlight brushes of their mouths soothes him deep down in a place he hadn’t even realized was aching.

As everyone drifted off to sleep, Jin couldn’t help but smile. Despite the fights and the stress and the miscommunications— this was exactly where he belonged. This was his family, his shared life. And nothing could take that love away.

#networkbangtan #bangtanarmynet #kpopwonderlandtag #btsguild #btsbookclub #kwritersworldnet #armiesnet #thebtstown #ficswithluv #jinseoknet #btspolyshipbingo #poly bts #polyamory #bts polyamory #ot7 #ot7 ship #fluff #light angst #mywriting

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iammultifandomaf · 3 years

Text

Chapter 4 - Italy

BROTHERHOOD

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/12211562/4/

Finally, Stiles and Lydia were about to fly away on their little trip to Italy. It was quite exhausting for both of them, mainly because Lydia had to repack their suitcases in order to fit into the prescribed weight that the airline had for their planes, and their flight was early in the morning. Stiles made them several sandwiches the day before for breakfast and for later at the airport which was very useful when the time came.

Their flight took around long nine hours which were filled with talking, reading, movie watching and of course, sleeping. Lydia brought a special book with her by Barbusse with the childish stubborness that she can also read such a book as John. After several chapters, she understood why the bearded man said what he said. It wasn't a relaxing book, indeed.

When they finally arrived to the airport, found their luggage and bought a Starbucks coffee, they exited the huge building into the chilly weather outside. The couple didn't have a precise plan on how to get to their hotel, so they kept standing at the sidewalk for a while, looking around at the unknown surroundings.

Stiles noticed a taxi at the corner and nodded to it. "So, let's take that," he suggested but Lydia didn't answer. She was staring in the opposite direction, not listening to whatever Stiles had said. She suddenly turned her head to her impatient boyfriend and asked with a chuckle: "What?"

"I was just asking if-"

Lydia understood at once what he meant and cut him off: "Don't you wanna rent a car? I could drive if your bottom is too lazy."

"What? I'm not lazy, I don't know what you're talking about."

"So, let's rent a car, huh?"

And so they rented a Škoda Octavia, silver color. Lydia quickly hopped into the drivers seat whilst Stiles put their suitcases into the trunk. He sat down next to his girlfriend who was already impatiently drumming her fingers on the leathered wheel. Stiles withdrew a small map from his jacket pocket and laid it open in front of him. Lydia stared at him in disbelief while he was studying the map through.

"You are kidding, right?" Lydia chuckled at Stiles who raised his gaze from the cartography lying on his knees.

"Did I say something funny?" Stiles said with feigned bewilderment.

"We are living in the information age, you know that right?" she asked and reached for the map to confiscate it but was tenderly struck by his fingers.

"Don't you touch my map, missy. I know what I'm doing. I'll just look at the map for a bit and then I'll know the way for sure. I had lived here anyways. Or did you let this tasty detail of my past slip your mind already?"

"Well, no. But-"

"So gimme a sec, sweetie," he said with a smirk and returned to his careful map-reading. In several minutes, he swiftly packed his map into his pocket, again, and began instructing the slightly impatient driver.

Lydia was quite surprised by Stiles' good memory because he seemed to remember a lot of places, streets, shops and even the round abouts, even though he had been living elsewhere for such a long time.

After a half an hour full of detailed directions, they arrived to the Hotel Pfösl. Lydia pulled up in front of the building, letting Stiles to get out of the car and fetch their luggage from the trunk. Whilst he carried the baggage into the lobby, Lydia found a nice spot to park in.

When Lydia finally came to the lobby, Stiles had already prepared all their documents needed for the check in. The process of checking-in was rather smooth and fast and the couple landed in their room with the number 1936 which made Stiles for some reason snort in amusement. Lydia arched her eyebrow at him but he simply ignored her and entered their room.

Being the time for dinner, they decided to visit the village where the hotel was located in and find a nice-looking restaurant. After a few minutes of walking, white cold snowflakes began to fall down at their heads, so they run into the first pub they had encountered.

As they sat down, a grumpy waitress approached them and asked for their order which was way too fast for the couple and Lydia just pointed to the table across the room and confidently said: "We'll have what they're having."

The woman with the roman-shaped nose rose her eyebrow and looked behind her shoulder to see whom Lydia meant. She shrugged, visibly exchanging the position of her chewing gum in her mouth, and left. Stiles watched her go and then returned his focus on his redhead in front of him.

"She was nice," he said with a smile which made Lydia giggle a bit.

"The nicest of them all," Lydia agreed and glanced over the bar where the waitress stood at the beer pipes, watching back at their table. Lydia abruptly looked away and said with a whisper: "I think she's checking you out. I guess she sensed out your italian origins."

An entertained smile grew on Stiles' face as he continued to play this game. "Then you ought to be extra careful that she doesn't lure me away."

"No way she's doing that!" Lydia said and let her fist hit the table in an appropriate volume.

The evening passed quickly and their food was eaten with admirable speed. The couple ended up drinking their alcoholic beverages. Lydia was swallowing down her beer whilst Stiles studied his fourth glass of wine with his hazels.

"She really stares a lot," Lydia commented the impolite behavior of the grumpy waitress.

"Some people tend to stare," Stiles said, not giving the woman much of a thought.

"Is it possible that she knows you?" Lydia asked, creating a small fictional image of small Stiles with missy grumpy together in her mind. Stiles turned his head around to look at the personnel behind the bar and then shook his head: "Nah... Would have remembered such a glamorous person."

Lydia paused for a while, recounting the amount of wine Stiles had had and blurted out a question:"Are you still in contact with somebody from here?"

"Hm, not anymore," Stiles said, appearing a little sad even.

"But you were...?"

"Um, yeah. Of course."

"What happened?"

"We went different paths I'd say. More like he chose to leave but I guess he didn't have a choice. I don't even know anymore."

"Why did he leave?"

"Uh, my life situation changed and suddenly it wasn't quite suited for... um, his way of life? Not sure how to explain it. So he left."

"Were you close?"

"Very."

"What a dick."

"Come again?" Stiles' eyes widened in surprise, not expecting this reaction.

"You just don't leave when it gets tough. That's so coward-ish. Like what the hell? Whoever it was, he left you when you went through a change or whatever. He was supposed to stay and support you. Gosh. I hate these selfish kind of people."

"Hm," he hummed and looked down at his glass. Lydia decided not to dig into his friendship which had fallen apart and changed the topic to more joyful things which created the usual smile on Stiles' face.

After they finished their drinks, the couple headed to their hotel through the dark of night. Lydia clung to Stiles' forearm and giggled at his monologue he was having about how he loathes today's technology.

At once, Stiles grunted with pain as something hit the back of his head and he fell on Lydia who tried to support his weight with all her strength whilst she looked around for the attacker. Behind them was a man with a baseball bat and a woman with a revolver in her hand, directed at Stiles. Lydia tried to stand up but was stopped by the woman: "You stay down, redhead. Let go of him."

Lydia ignored the command she was given and squeezed Stiles even tighter. Stiles' vision came back to him and he started to move as well but he only got struck, again, which was the last thing he was conscious of.

"What the fuck?!" Lydia yelled at them, scanning the way for any potential help but there was not one living soul. The man began grabbing Stiles by his torso which made Lydia jump at her boyfriend, protecting him with her whole body.

"Stop!" Lydia cried.

"Get of off him, or I will shoot you," the woman threatened, cocking the barrel at Lydia.

"God, kill me but don't take him!" Lydia begged, her eyes filling up with tears.

"We're not interested in you," the man said and pulled Stiles' limp body from under Lydia. The redhead rose to her feet and marched to the man who swinged his bat, hitting Lydia and knocking her out.

Everything went black and Lydia felt how she fell on the cold solid ground.

When she regained consciousness again, she was alone. No Stiles. No attackers.

#stiles stilinski #lydia martin #chapter 4 #italy #brotherhood #fanfic #fanfiction #teen wolf

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vldaera · 4 years

Text

task .002—

with special thanks for, and featuring, @vldareum—

JEON AERA ✉ ⇢ manager yes ys i kniw JEON AERA ✉ ⇢ manager ill addition 4 fanny pack outing later :P JEON AERA ✉ ⇢ manager i’m bussy rite now tho ;) it’ areum time MANAGER ✉ ⇢ jeon aera Busy doing what?! What’s Areum time?! JEON AERA ✉ ⇢ manager s MANAGER ✉ ⇢ jeon aera Aera TT MANAGER ✉ ⇢ jeon aera Aera, why did you send a winky face? Is Areum okay? MANAGER ✉ ⇢ jeon aera Aera please I do not have time for this you are so aggravating JEON AERA ✉ ⇢ manager ;) ;) ;_ MANAGER ✉ ⇢ jeon aera Aera!!

Aera’s not so mean that she leaves their manager on delivered when she knows she’s probably gonna bust a nerve; no, she chooses to leave her on open, instead, so she knows she’s at least alive. Because for tonight, she has planning to do.

Phase One of Operation: Surprise the Socks Off Areum is long since over and was a huge success. Phase One is the simplest part: text Areum to come over tonight for another Star Wars marathon. They never got to the sequels.

Phase Two is the thick of it: cook a fancy dinner fit for a princess, hire a masseuse to pamper both of them in— ahem— Aera’s brand new(!) apartment, turn on absolutely any movie of Areum’s choice, give each other mani/pedis, and then end the night with giving her sister a woven bracelet that Aera personally made for Areum herself.

Phase Three: catalogue every second of it on her phone and watch the look on her sister’s face.

Ha. And Areum thinks it’s just going to be Star Wars.

It’s a bit of a thank you, in a way, for her sister to know that Aera really appreciates her, and also to let her know that Aera’s doing just fine, thank you very much, living alone. Sure, it gets lonely sometimes, but besides Areum, Naeun comes over! And Saeun! And Hamin! And... that’s pretty much it...

Clowns! One time Aera hired a clown to come and entertain her while she cried on the sofa over a stupid romantic comedy. It was sorta funny to watch how obviously uncomfortable the clown was ‘cause she paid him double to leave a kid’s party early to keep her company. He wasn’t expecting one of the members of one of the nation’s top girl groups to be sprawled out on the floor with a bottle of wine, she doesn’t think, but whatever. As you can see, she’s having the time of her life.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

Step One of Phase Two (that’s right, she’s that organized) is to go figure out what to eat. After their excursion to Tokyo, she’s thinking some miso broth ramen and spicy tuna rolls, so she makes a quick stop by the market to go pick up some seaweed and fish. She has a plan and everything; she’s gonna cut up some seaweed to say “I Love You, Areum!” and stick it in the broth like alphabet soup. It’s gonna be so cute—

Hey, what’s that? Bunnies for adoption??!! Ohmigod no way!!!

Aera hasn’t ever whipped a car into a parking lot so fast. Ten minutes and 40,000 KRW later, she drives home with a bag full of seaweed and fish and the newest addition to the family, John Brad Crumb. She’s pulling away when she realizes 1) she made a HUGE typo on the iPad, 2) both “John Brad Crumb Jeon” and “Jeon John Brad Crumb” are stupid names, and 3), though it came with the intention of paying homage to her fans, with Aera’s Earthshine nickname being John Area, she’s effectively just named a rabbit after herself.

But hey, the adoption certificate says John Brad Crumb, so that’s what he is.

She pulls into her apartment and the elevator dings to the top floor. It’s only recently that she managed to unpack, so she unloads all the groceries into the fridge and puts the rice in the cooker, then gets to work dedicating a sizable corner of her living room for John Brad Crumb. One could call it John’s area.

One thing to note about Aera is that what can go wrong, will go wrong, but it’ll go wrong with a flourish and probably fireworks, too. The cage is actually pretty well set up, and she wants to do this cute thing where she gives Areum her bracelet by wrapping it around John Brad Crumb’s neck like a collar, and she’s in the middle of doing so when she smells something. Umm... what’s burning?

She rushes to the kitchen and smacks her head when she realizes that she forgot to put water in the rice. Now what?

Aera stands there for at least a full solid minute watching the rice as she wonders what her reaction should be. She wonders if it’ll catch fire.

Um, duh.

Fortunately, she keeps a Brita filter in the fridge, and so she begins pouring water on the flames. Really she lucked out, because she manages to put the fire out without the help of the fire department, but her rice cooker is, like, totaled. That’s fine! She’s adaptive. Instead, she decides to cook it manually. She definitely won’t forget the water this time, she thinks smugly as she fills the water almost to the top of the pot. After adding the rice, she returns to the living room...

...only to find that John Brad Crumb has all but gnawed the bracelet to pieces.

“John Brad Crumb-ah! Are you serious?! You are so unaware.”

She lifts the bunny and picks the dangling threads from his mouth, pouting as she witnesses the shreds of what she made with such love and care. Luckily for Aera (and also for John Brad Crumb, whom she’ll forgive eventually because he already means the world to her), it seems to be salvageable? Maybe?

John Brad Crumb fits in the front pocket of her hoodie, so she puts him and some rabbit food in there and returns to the kitchen where the rice has, obviously, boiled over. Cursing, Aera cleans up the mess and tastes the rice that was saved. Well... it’s not bad.

Putting the ramen to a boil, she checks the clock and sees that she’s got a little over an hour before Areum’s supposed to arrive. She fortunately had the hindsight to buy pre-made tare and simmer the broth this morning, so it’s not like she has to simmer things for three hours. but it’s still kinda crunch time.

You know what she just realized? She totally forgot to buy one of those bamboo rolling mats. Printer paper should work... right?

“Let’s do this, John Brad Crumb-ah. For Areummie!”

HHHHHHHHHH OHHHHHH MY GOD ROLLING SUSHI IS SO HARD is what she’d say if there was anyone around to hear her, but there’s not. It’s written clearly across her face, though. The rice is too mushy and also the printer paper keeps falling apart, so it’s kinda... papery rice? Wrapped in nori? Yuck.

It’s kind of a disaster, so she decides that it doesn’t have to be pretty and abandons the paper in favor of trying to hand roll the sushi, which naturally doesn’t work as the sushi falls apart. The result is, like, this weird sushi salad thing that honestly works in the same way that a poke bowl does. Whatever; it’ll have to do. Twenty minutes till Areum gets here.

Turning around, she spoons some noodles into a pot and tastes the broth that she made. Okay, what...? That’s actually super good. Pleased with herself, she dumps in the sauce. But again, this is Aera, and what goes wrong is that, facepalming, she realizes that what she thought was chicken sauce was actually chocolate sauce... ugh...

The whole thing has to be tossed now, so Aera does so quickly and checks the clock. Ten minutes till Areum gets here.

In a last-ditch effort, she throws some instant ramen on the stove and bounds into the kitchen to comb out and rebraid Areum’s bracelet, when her phone pings.

SEOUL THERAPEUTICS ✉ ⇢ jeon aera Jeon Aera-ssi, this is Kim Daeho, owner/operator of Seoul Therapeutics. I am texting to inform you that your masseuse has fallen ill and will be unable to arrive tonight—

(Somewhere, on the other side of town, Kim Daeho, owner/operator of Seoul Therapeutics, feels a chill run down his spine.)

—and, as all other masseurs are booked, I have issued a refund to your account. We apologize for the inconvenience.

Well, she tried. She really did. Sorry, Areum, she really wanted to throw you a big thank-you dinner, but turns out Aera’s actually going into hermitage instead. Would you like to come visit her cave? Oh, please do make yourself at home, don’t mind those scorpions crawling on her bed made out of twigs and sadness...

She stands in the kitchen, contemplating the best mountain beneath which to move all her things, before deciding that she just moved and it would be too much of an inconvenience. The weird chocolate ramen is in the trash. That salad thing is on the counter. The movies aren’t rented, the nail polish isn’t bought, and the bracelet is wearable, but ugly. The instant ramen is literally what they ate everyday for years, and also the weight of John Brad Crumb on her hoodie is starting to hurt her neck. One minute until Areum—

Ding dong!

“Gah! John Brad Crumb-ah, we can’t let her see us like this!”

With a certain kind of determination that only Jeon Aera possesses, she decides to make her grand escape. But the reason it’s Jeon Aera name-brand determination is because it wouldn’t be Aera’s if it wasn’t tinted with just a little bit of recklessness, ‘cause in her attempt to escape the embarrassment, she tries to escape out the front door, where Areum is standing.

“Areummie!”

Her face flushes bright red and she wonders what Areum thinks of the sight before her: Aera, in a hoodie, with a rabbit in her pocket and a ratty bracelet in her hand, covered in chocolate stains and mushy rice and her hair falling out of her bun.

It’s then that she realizes that she probably does know what Areum’s thinking, and that’s why she loves her twin so much in the first place. There’s no one else she’d rather go on this adventure with. No one else would so easily deal with her. Of course her sister wouldn’t judge her for the disaster that was Aera’s poorly planned surprise. Just seeing Areum makes the embarrassment wash away, and Aera gives her a smile. Thanks for being there for me. Thanks for smiling when I’m ditzy instead of rolling your eyes. Thanks for supporting me through thick and thin. Thanks for being the best sister a girl could ask for.

“Thanks for coming, Areummie. Let’s order in some takeout. I’ve got the craziest story to tell you.”

#vldtask2 #vldareum #ic / self para.#veil admins: 400 words will be fine! :)#me: you said 2k words right?

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