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paintyoureyeswithavividmind · 8 months

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close to home | chapter sixty

plot: the reader's life changes after the death of Rick Grimes

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 4,087 Warnings: violence, blood, typical twd A/N: thank you for reading!!! Good luck with this one

Rick’s death was felt in every community, and things fell apart. The saviors were left to survive on their own, and the other communities grew distant in the following weeks. You returned to Alexandria with Daryl and Michonne, while Maggie went to the Hilltop and Carol to the Kingdom.

You spent eight months there with a pregnant Michonne, helping to build up what Rick’s death tore down. But when the children were kidnapped and on the mission to rescue them, you found Rick’s revolver. Daryl told you he wanted to keep looking for Rick’s body.

You didn’t think he’d ever be able to find a body; it was most likely torn apart from the explosion. But he was your husband, so you went with him.

You helped Daryl every day looking for a body, moving further east almost every day. You didn’t settle in one spot for more than a day or two. Slowly, days became weeks, and weeks became two months, and then five more. You hadn’t seen anyone in seven months. And you were tired.

Daryl had shut down on you, and you couldn’t pull him back. You knew he felt Rick’s death deeply, more deeply than you. There was nothing you could do to make him feel better, nothing you could do to make him laugh or smile. He was lost, and you couldn’t find him. And you were losing yourself. Even though you were with him and had Tora with you, you were alone.

But each time you tried to talk to him about stopping or even just taking a break, he wouldn’t hear it. So there was nothing for you to do. You didn’t want to leave him out here alone, but you couldn’t stay anymore.

“I’m going home,” You finally said one early Spring morning.

Daryl looked at you but didn’t say anything.

“I want to go home, Daryl.” You stood up. “I miss my family. I haven’t seen them in months. We missed the birth of Michonne and Rick’s baby. We don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl. And I don’t even know where the hell we are.”

Again, he didn’t say anything.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” You said, your voice rising. “Come home with me, Daryl, please?”

“I can’.”

“You can. You have to. I can’t stay out here any longer.”

He didn’t say anything after that, he just walked away. You scoffed and sat back down on the stupid, thin mattress pad and looked at Tora through teary eyes. You laid back and curled yourself into a ball, sobbing as Tora tried to comfort you the best she could.

***

You left before dawn the following day. You couldn’t bring yourself to say goodbye and needed to go home for a while. You promised yourself you’d come back and find him, but you needed to be home.

***

You sobbed into Michonne’s arms as she held you on the couch. You couldn’t stop crying, and you were struggling to breathe.

“I couldn’t do it anymore,” You choked out. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t. He’s not the same anymore… I can’t help him…”

Michonne shushed you and rubbed the back of your head. “You did everything you could. You were out there with him for seven months. If there is anyone that could’ve helped it, it would’ve been you.”

“I don’t wanna lose him,” You sobbed. “I was such a coward leaving the way I did. But I couldn’t do it…”

Michonne held you as you cried for another twenty minutes, and you rambled on and on about how guilty you felt, how broken he was, and how alone you were. She was able to calm you down enough that you were able to breathe.

And then Judith walked into the room, and you couldn’t believe how big she was. She was pushing five by now.

“Aunt (Y/N),” She smiled and ran to you. You cried again when she jumped into your lap to give you a hug. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m happy to see you,” You lied. “I missed you so much.” You hugged the little girl again.

“Did you come to see RJ?”

You glanced at Michonne, immediately knowing what the R meant. She nodded at you with a small smile, and you stood up, carrying the little girl. “How did you know that? You are so smart, Judith!”

***

Later that night, you were sitting in the basement of Michonne’s house, the room you and Daryl moved into. None of you could take living in the same house Carl used to, so you all moved into one of the townhouses. You and Daryl had discussed going to a different one, but Rick and Michonne insisted you stay with them. Neither of you put up a fight because it felt better being with them under one roof.

All your crap was around the room. Your old clothes you hadn’t seen in months, shoes, and little things you picked up here and there. It was hard being in there. You decided to clear it out and remove what you didn’t want anymore.

An hour later, you found Carl’s note in your nightstand drawer. You put it there when you came home to Alexandria and never opened it.

His writing was faded, and your eyes were already tearing up when you opened it.

(Y/N),

You were the first person we let into our lives at the prison. I remember the first time I saw you. I was waiting for my dad to kill you. I’m glad he didn’t. You became one of my closest friends, and I know you know that Tora was my world for a long time. Thank you for sharing her with a scrawny kid in a policeman’s hat.

My dad and I owe you a debt of gratitude that could never be repaid. You saved my sister; you saved us that day in Terminus. And I will always be thankful for you. I don’t have any room to ask you any favors, not after everything you’ve done for my family. But I need to ask you one more.

Please watch over Judith for me. She will have dad and a mom with Michonne, but she is going to need you. Be her friend, like you were to me. Make her laugh and feel like she has value, no matter how young she is. I know she’s going to beat this world, and I know you’ll be there too. Please watch over my sister for me. I’m sorry I can’t, and I’m sorry to ask this of you, but I need to.

I buried a box by the oak tree near the tower. Inside are all my comics. I didn’t want the saviors to take them. Promise me you’ll read them with her? I know you did it for me because you love me, just like I know you’ll do it for her.

Try not to throw yourself headfirst into danger, (Y/N). I’ve seen you do things without thinking about your safety. I wanted to be like you when I grew up. I like to think I was, in a way. But I need you alive to watch over Judith.

I hope you get to read this letter. The saviors have you now, and I’m scared I’ll never see you again. If I don’t, I want you to know that I love you. That I thought of you as a sister, and I’ll be watching over you.

Thank you for everything I’ll never be able to repay you for.

Carl

***

After crying yourself to sleep that night in a bed you used to share with Daryl, you woke up feeling calm. Your thoughts consisted of when you were with the saviors and how you managed to pull yourself through it. There were lingering emotional scars that had you disturbed when a man stared at you too long, but you were mostly healed--thanks to someone who’d only given you fresh scars.

There were only a few residents up when you walked outside. It was brisk, and you crossed your arms to keep warm. You were headed to a place you never thought you’d go to. You refused each time Rick had asked and wanted nothing to do with the monster living below you in a cell.

But today was different. And after Carl’s letter, you had things to say.

You’d swiped the keys from Michonne, of course, and let yourself into the room. You knew he was awake and took a deep breath when you approached the cell.

Negan looked at you for a long moment. “Hi, baby,” He sighed.

“You look like shit.”

“No surprises there. You’re still the same woman I knew. I didn’t think you’d ever be here.”

You wrapped your hand around the cell bar and looked at how terrible he looked. He didn’t look at all like the man he once was, and it pleased you. You were glad to see how awful he looked. How he was rotting away in a cell.

“Why did you take me?” You asked. A question that always burned in your mind. You thought back to that fateful day at the lineup and when he said those words: time to collect on anything.

“Because you remind me of someone.” Negan stood up and walked closer to you. “The way you said what you wanted to say, take no prisoners and shit like that. And because if I had you, I could control Daryl. And I wanted him to join me.”

You stared up at his face. His beard had grown thicker, and his eyes looked tired. “Who did I remind you of?”

“My wife,” was all he said.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and took your hand off the bar. “I came down here to tell you thank you. For what you saved me from that night at the Sanctuary. I’m tired of holding onto my anger, and I’m tired of feeling this way because of you and the war. I want to be free of it.”

“You deserve it, baby,” Negan said.

You took a deep breath. “I’m not going to try and kill you. I’m moving forward with my life. But I won’t stop anyone who tries.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything different from you.”

You nodded and you turned around to leave but paused at the door. “Your wife… that’s why I was special, right? Why you did things for me but not the other wives?” Your back was still toward him.

“If things were different, I would’ve loved you.”

***

Three weeks later, you found Daryl again after a day of looking. He stared at you blankly, and you crossed your arms, standing a few feet away.

“I’m sorry for leaving the way I did.”

He scoffed and shook his head.

“I am, Daryl. But I told you. I told you a million times I was miserable, and you didn’t listen.” You reminded him. “Michonne had a son. His name is RJ. He has Rick’s eyes.”

“That all ya came to say? Don’ wanna keep ya.”

“Don’t be an asshole, Daryl.” You said. “You didn’t come after me. You knew where I was going.”

“I been busy!” Daryl yelled. “Ya the one who left.”

“No, you left!” You nearly screamed. “Rick’s dead, Daryl! He’s dead. I can’t keep looking for ghosts. I’m sorry… I can’t. Come home with me. Judith misses you. She keeps asking when her uncle is coming back.”

Daryl only stared at you.

“You pushed me away. Even before you left. We stopped talking, we stopped laughing. We stopped having sex. You pushed every part of us away in your grief, and I understand it, but it’s been over a year now. You need to come home.”

“Nah, ain’ home.” He swung his crossbow over his shoulder.

“What? So I’m not home anymore? What happened to nothing keeping us apart?”

“That was before ya left me!”

You groaned in frustration. “You have until next month. I’ll be back then, and I’m bringing you back home. I don’t care if I have to knock you on your ass to do.”

***

You couldn’t find Daryl a month later. Or the month after that. The month after, you spent three days combing the woods for him before you gave up. You finally found him the next month.

“Please come home with me, please,” You begged him, dropping onto your knees. “I’ll do anything. I’ll do anything, honey. I can’t take you being out here. It’s been almost a year and a half.”

But he shook his head and walked away, and you cried on your knees as mud soaked through your jeans.

***

You didn’t go to see Daryl for four months. You couldn’t. You threw yourself in Alexandria and bounced around between the other communities to try and keep the peace when you could, but it was hard sneaking around Michonne. Maggie was gone, working with Georgie down south, and she took your nephew, too. You felt really alone after that.

Tora was approaching her eighth birthday, which made you even more depressed.

Judith had turned five already and slept in your bed almost every night. And every time she called Michonne 'mom', it made you want to cry out of happiness for your best friend. And RJ warmed up to you quickly; he was twelve months old and growing fast. You helped Michonne with the two of them; you knew she needed it. And Judith and RJ had a special place in your heart.

When you finally decided to go to Daryl again, and after Michonne made sure you were sure you could handle it--because you always came home so broken--it took you a week to find him. It was easy enough to track him when he wanted to be found. But when he didn’t, it was an entirely different story.

He’d set up a hut by the river bank, and seeing it made your heart hurt. It made everything seem official. He wasn’t coming back. He knew it, and you had to accept it.

A dog ran up to you, sniffing at your hands and you froze at the animal for a moment before deciding he was friendly enough.

“‘M fine, Carol. Don’ gotta keep checkin’ on me.” His back was turned toward you.

“I’m not Carol.”

Daryl stilled when he heard your voice and he slowly turned around. Your heart both ached and jumped when you saw his face. He looked exhausted and sad. He looked lonely. You weren’t sure what to say, so you looked down at the dog and rubbed its ear.

After a moment of silence, Daryl spoke. “What ya doin’ here? Thought ya wasn’ comin’ back.”

“Would you prefer I didn’t?” You asked.

He was silent, and you couldn’t tell if it was good or bad.

“Who’s this?” You asked, nodding your head toward the dog. “Made a friend, I see.”

“That’s Dog.”

You smiled; of course, that was the name he’d given it. “Where’d you find him?” Daryl remained quiet as he looked at his crossbow. You knew him well enough to know he was hiding something. “Well, you gonna tell me?”

“I ain’ get him from anywhere. And I ain’ goin’ anywhere so don’ ask.”

“Asshole,” You muttered. “I don’t know why I even bother.” You knelt down to pet Dog further and chuckled when he kissed your cheek. The German Shepperd gave you a few more before settling down.

You felt Daryl’s gaze on you, and when you turned, you could see the conflict in his face. “What?”

“Came from a woman,” Daryl said.

Your hand froze and you slowly stood up. “What?”

“Dog. He came from a woman who lives a few miles west. He was hers. Liked me better, I guess.”

Your stomach twisted into a roll of anxiety so tight you felt like you couldn’t breathe. “You and her are what, friends…?”

“Huh?”

“I’m just curious, is all,” You said bitterly as you walked toward him. “Clearly, you had to have spent time with her for the dog to like you better.”

Daryl looked at you and shook his head. “Ain’ like that, (Y/N).”

Your fingers twitched as you approached him, and you couldn’t stop yourself from shoving him backwards. “No? It isn’t like that!” You yelled.

“(Y/N).”

“You stupid son of a bitch!” You shoved him again. “I’ve been begging you to come home with me for over a year! I’ve been begging you, Daryl. And you refuse. You refused at every fucking turn.” You shoved him one more time until his back hit a tree.

“(Y/N), stop.” He grabbed your arms, but you tore them away from him.

“Don’t touch me!” You screamed, not caring if every walker in a mile radius heard you. “I’ve cried for you every night for months. Every night! I’m supposed to be your wife! You promised me you’d be with me no matter what. You promised!”

You hit your hands against his chest. “And come to find out you’re here with another woman! You’d rather her company than mine.” Your anger was getting the better of you, and you hit him again. “How could you do this to me? I thought you loved me? How could you? We’re supposed to be married!”

You wiped your tears and took a few steps back, trying to pull yourself together. “I can’t believe I’ve been so fucking stupid!” You yelled, and then you started laughing bitterly through your tears. “And you said you wanted to start a family with me?”

“(Y/N), I-”

“Shut the fuck up!” You screamed. “I don’t care. I don’t fucking care. Fuck you, Daryl Dixon.” You pulled your ring off your finger and threw it at his face. “I’m done. I’m so fucking done with you. I never wanna see you again! Don’t come back to Alexandria; don’t ever come back! You ruined everything!”

You wiped more tears as you turned away from him and started walking away. But you paused and looked back at him. “Ryan from the Kingdom has been flirting with me whenever I’m there. I always turned him down. I’m going straight there, and I’m going to fuck him all night.”

***

Ten more months passed, and spring rolled around. You hadn’t seen Daryl after your final fight and your divorce, in a way. You didn’t go to the Kingdom to fuck Ryan like you said. You went straight home to Alexandria, locked yourself in your bedroom, and cried for two days.

But it was spring again, and the distance between you and Daryl made things easier. Your heart ached each time you thought about him, and there were many times you walked up to the gate to find him, but neither Michonne nor Rosita let you, not after seeing what it did to you every time. And after Michonne learned about the mysterious woman, she didn’t even let you think about it.

It took a month of asking her to let you go to Hilltop and the Kingdom before she finally caved. You promised you wouldn’t go see Daryl, and you meant it. Despite your longing for him, you had no interest in seeing him. You were done with being hurt.

You visited Hilltop first and checked in on everyone there, Tora in tow. Everyone was happy to see you and her, and you spent a few days helping them. Then you made your way to the Kingdom, where you wanted to be. As much as you loved Alexandria and the people there, being at the Kingdom made you feel free.

“(Y/N)!” Ezekiel was ecstatic when he saw you. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I had to get out of Alexandria a bit. I wanted to see you guys.” You gave him a big hug. “How’s Henry? How’s Jerry? How’s everyone?” You laughed.

“Everyone is exceptional, as always in the Kingdom.” He said as he lifted Tora up. “I’ve missed you!”

You smiled and followed him through the community, waving at a few friends you saw. Carol was working with Henry in the gardens, and she smiled widely when she saw you. It’d been too long since you’d seen her, and you ran up to hug her.

“I missed you,” Carol said.

Henry told you the same and gave you a hug as well.

“You’ve gotten so big!” You told him. “Gosh, it’s so nice to be here. I was hoping I could stay awhile?”

***

You stayed in the Kingdom for almost six months before returning to Alexandria. At that point, you were just over three years since Rick died and almost two since your marriage ended. Things got easier, but you didn’t get over your broken heart.

Two more years passed, and Judith celebrated her eighth birthday, and you and Michonne made her party special. But even after so long, you felt the lack of Daryl’s presence. You hadn’t seen him in years. You knew he was alive--Carol sent you letters. You even went to the river to look for him once a few months ago but turned back before you got too far.

But now you were at the Kingdom again; you’d traded your useless gun for a new bow and arrow--your original one was long gone. But you were good, and you and Carol trained daily.

When she asked you if you wanted to go on a run with her and a few others, you thought it was a great idea. Especially since Henry would be joining you and learning some field experience, as he kept calling it.

You’d already been out for a few hours when the group took a break. Ryan was amongst the group, and he tried to talk to him, but you weren’t ready, even after all this time.

That didn’t stop Carol from noticing.

“Ryan’s kinda cute.”

You glanced at the man before looking at Carol. “Too young for me.”

“Ah, that’s right. I forgot you like them older.”

You gave her a look. “Daryl and I are done. We have been for years.”

“He still wears his ring. He has yours around his neck.”

You sighed and brought your knees up. “Why are you telling me this?”

“He’s been asking about you. Every time I go visit. He wants to talk to you.”

You scoffed. “Now he wants to talk to me? I tried for years.”

Your friend nodded and wrapped her arm around your shoulders. “That’s what I told him. And I support your decision no matter what, but I’m trying to be a good friend to the both of you.”

“I know, and I don’t want you put in the middle of anything. Thank you.”

“You miss him?”

You nodded slowly and leaned your head against her shoulder. “Every day. I can’t shake it. I know I still love him.”

“He was crying. He begged me to talk to you. I think he’s really lost right now.”

“I tried, though, Carol, for almost two years.” You sat up. “What else was I supposed to do?”

She frowned and nodded. “You did much more than someone else would’ve done.”

***

You were heading back to the Kingdom the evening when you ran into trouble. A group of men appeared out of nowhere with guns and had the group stuck. Carol tried to do most of the talking, and to protect the group, letting them take what they wanted. You couldn’t tell if they were saviors on the run or not.

But Henry, being the hot-headed teenager he was, didn’t stand for that and had a man on the ground.

“Henry!” Carol yelled.

You heard gunfire and watched as the man next to you dropped, and you stood in shock while the group ran off with the supplies. You looked at Carol, who was scolding Henry, and you called out to her.

“Carol… I feel funny.”

When she looked up at you, she gasped.

“What?” You looked down as your head swayed. Your shirt was covered in blood, and your hand, which you didn’t even realize was resting on it, was coated in blood. You felt dizzy, and your knees weakened. “I think I got shot.”

That was the last thing you said before your head hit the group, and darkness consumed you.

#daryl x y/n #daryl dixion x reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl twd #daryl x you #twd

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lokiiied · 7 months

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the drinking game scene in rotk bc legolas is just naturally good at everything and also an elf it takes like twenty beers to get him even slightly buzzed and then he’s like, “i feel something…a slight tingle in my fingers. i think it is effecting me!” and éomer is just like #impressedandturnedon

will never not be funny but also imagine:

after legolas “wins” the game and him and éomer lift gimli and relocate him éomer is just amazed at legolas’ elf alcohol tolerance and says,

“have you never been drunk before?” and legolas smiles and says,

“not from this.” to which éomer responds,

“care to have a few more then?” and legolas realises they haven’t really had a chance to get to know each other so he says sure. and about five beers later (ten for legolas, who now cannot stop chugging them) éomer, now very much buzzed himself, leans in a bit more than intended and asks,

“how are you feeling now?” and legolas smirks at him,

“trying to get me drunk, are we?” which makes éomer shift back a bit, trying to read him, and says sarcastically,

“i would never- [and then without meaning to say the rest out loud finishes his sentence]

-seduce a prince” to which legolas’ eyebrows raise and he presses,

“seduce?” and éomer panicks and tries to go back,

“not what i meant, i uhm, not thinking clearly.” but legolas, deciding to indulge, shifts slightly so their knees touch and leans in a bit.

“i think you’re thinking perfectly well.”

and so basically they kiss (no one cares everyone has like centimetres of personal space in there and are all drunk off their asses anyways) and it’s nice, but legolas realises in that moment a couple things:

1. he is maybe a little more drunk than he thought he was

2. it is making him (more) confident?

3. and slightly horny

4. he’s enjoying the attention and flirtation and éomer is very sweet and pretty…but he can’t help imagining éomer is someone else.

5. not just. anyone else.

“i’m sorry”, he gently places both hands on éomer’s shoulders and says,

“i have something i must do now.” and he leaves éomer confused but also he’s probably drunk enough to think think it was all just a weird dream.

suddenly legolas finds himself shoving through drunks and couples, away from the loud and crowded spaces and through hallways…he’s not sure where exactly he’s going, just that his heart is pounding and his feet will lead him to where he wants to be. who he wishes to see.

aragorn is on the balcony, looking out upon the ruined city. he doesn’t feel like celebrating. there’s still a battle to be fought, and although they won this one, it’s not looking very promising. he hears familiar footsteps approaching. light and quiet, but still, he can always sense when the elf is near him.

legolas slows when he sees him. he had so much courage when he was running through the corridors, but now that he was here…his heart is throbbing in his throat and his usual confidence no longer felt elevated. but he knew aragorn must be able to hear his heavy breath, so he swallowed and made his way to the man’s side.

“shouldn’t you be celebrating?” aragorn asks, without turning his head.

“shouldn’t you be with us?” legolas looks to him. taking in his greasy hair and his stubble and his jawline…

aragorn breaks his gaze from the city below, meeting legolas’ eyes. they looked a little glazed, and he could get lost in them if he allowed himself.

“been drinking with the dwarf?” he asks, corner of his mouth turning up into a small smile.

legolas had felt his buzz starting to fade on his run over - it had only lasted 15 minutes or so, and in another 15 it would probably be completely gone. but standing in front of aragorn now, he felt a sudden wave of lust and indulgence washing over him. maybe it was the alcohol…maybe something else. but he decided he wanted to push his luck.

“actually, he’s been passed out about half an hour or so. i beat him in a drinking game.” aragorn chuckled. (god, legolas wanted to kiss that grimy, scratchy, throat)

“is that so?” he could tell legolas was not entirely sober, and he wasn’t sure what direction this conversation was going to take - but he felt compelled to find out.

“mm. apparently it takes a lot of your kind of ale [legolas wasn’t sure what in middle earth had possessed him to reach out and brush his fingers along the front of aragorn’s robes] to take an effect on me.”

“and yet you seem affected, my friend.” aragorn could knew the small act was mindless…but there was also intention to it. he wished legolas would dare even further. for all that had happened, and was happening - he could use a distraction. but legolas wasn’t just a distraction. he was his weakness. and his strength. and the thought of his touch, his smile, his hooded eyes, his parted lips…it was taking everything in aragorn to keep his composure.

the thought of just telling him about his kiss with éomer, was tempting. but then there was a chance that might confuse aragorn. the kiss was nice, but it hadn’t really meant anything to legolas. maybe it wasn’t worth trying to explain all that now.

“i had a realisation.” he decided on that. it was true. and it was what brought him here, standing in front of aragorn now.

“a realisation?” aragorn could feel the world around them start to fade out. his focus only on the small amount of space between legolas and himself. he now had an idea where this might be going, he wanted to coax him on, but he also couldn’t be sure that his imagination wasn’t taking things out of context.

“yes.” legolas wasn’t sure if it was the fading buzz, or the being so close to aragorn, but it was almost like there was some sort of magic that had created a forcefield around the two of them, blocking out the rest of the world. if he was going to be brave enough kiss him, time was of the essence.

“and what is that?” aragorn wasn’t sure how much longer he could bear to be still with legolas looking at him like that. he wasn’t sure how had ever been able to restrain himself from leaning in to his touches and wrapping his arms around that waist and pulling him in so their hearts touched. how he had resisted tucking that glorious hair behind pointed ears and caressing that perfect jaw-

“i kissed éomer.” well, if he was going to confess his truth, he might as well confess all of it. besides, he wanted aragorn to know that

“it happened in the moment. and it was very nice - but it meant nothing, to me at least. but it did lead me to realise that it wasn’t him i had hoped to be kissing…that i…i was thinking of another.”

aragorn had not expected a confession of this sort, and it did surprise him for a moment, he felt a little sorry for éomer. and a little envious, of not being the first to feel legolas’ lips on his own. but he also knew that, to have legolas’ heart was that of hard earned pining, and of highest fortune. and their every moment together had lead to this one. and if he was being truthful, he could have lived in it forever. but fucks sake was it taking too long. he breathed in through his nose and gently placed one hand above legolas’ waist, slowly, carefully, closing the space between their bodies. the other tucking a strand of hair behind pointed ear.

“and might this ‘other’ have had you running through the halls in your courageous and intoxicated state, to confess this truth?” legolas’ breath hitched, he actually wasn’t sure when he had last taken a full breath- his head was cloudy, and he wasn’t sure if what was happening was real - or perhaps a fantasy that he would soon wake from. he had to be sure.

legolas’ soft, but cold hand found it’s way to cup the side of aragorn’s stubbled cheek. he felt some force of nature pulling them together, it was no use fighting. their lips were centimetres apart…

“he may have.” legolas’ eyes were hooded, and those few words to answer aragorn’s question moments ago (seconds? minutes?) were all he could manage to escape his lips before he found them meeting aragorn’s, finally. he breathed in sharp through his nose and let the air travel between them, before breaking away.

legolas’ hands were on the back of aragorn’s neck, contrasting the heat there. his own hands were now gently clutching the elf’s lower back. he was certain legolas’ smile then was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“i don’t think i have ever seen you smile with such ease” legolas teased, but truthfully it must’ve been the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

“i don’t think it’s ever been so easy to smile.” and he meant it.

“what now?”

“what would you have me do with you?” oh. well, there was no one answer to that. and certainly not a very respectful, elvishly, one. he took aragorn’s hand, leading him away from the balcony and towards presumably whatever closest chamber or reasonably private place they could find.

“very unprincely things.”

#okay so like #um #idk whom of my following this is for #probably just me #but uh #here!#have some aralas #something possessed me to write this #it is very amateur be nice #anyways i finished my lotr marathon today #prepare to be sick of me again #aralas #legolas #aragorn #legolas x aragorn #lotr #éomer #aralas hcs

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kurocamille · 1 year

Text

❝miles high❞

shigaraki x reader mdni

3k words

you’re the secretary for the multi billionaire, shigaraki tomura, and you’ve developed a crush on him. he invites you to travel with him to his overseas conference but the plane ride quickly turns into something more than it should be.

warnings-

afab reader, no mention of pronouns (refers to reader as a good girl), boss/employee relationship, no quirks au, fingering, blow jobs, ingestion of fluids, overstimulation, spanking, semi public sex, creampie, ceo!shigaraki, ooc shigaraki, kind of fluffy at the end, terribly unrealistic plot line

You had a crush on your boss. You had been working for Shigaraki for over five months now and had gotten to know his harsh glares and beratings. He was not, by any means, a kind person, let alone somebody to invite you to his conference across the globe so soon into your meeting. However, you could only hope this trip would serve to better acquaint you, or at least earn some respect from him.

Of course, it was your duty to provide for him as his secretary, but it was still an extreme surprise to see his 5 billion yen private jet pull up on the runway.

Soon after the jet had stopped, Shigaraki’s other attendants ushered you into the cabin, taking it upon themselves to stow away your extra luggage.

The interior was everything you expected and more. The space was luxurious and not at all like any other plane you had been in.

“Move in, the plane has to leave on time, and I can’t have you delaying it with your spacing out,” Shigaraki huffs from behind you. You had been so enamoured by your surroundings that you had forgotten about the real task at hand.

“Right, sir,” you reply.

Shigaraki walks around you to get to his seat and motions you to follow.

You dig around the plush leather cushions of your seat, searching for the buckle.

“There aren’t any seatbelts on these seats,” Shigaraki tells you without looking up from his newspaper.

That’s terrifyingly unsafe.

Flying doesn’t scare you, but one look at the cabin has you questioning everything. You close your eyes, not daring to open them until you’ve taken off.

You don’t have much more time to stress because the jet is soon moving down the tarmac and getting ready for takeoff.

At this point, Shigaraki has put his reading down and is watching you grip the armrests like your life depends on it.

“Relax, (y/n), you don’t look too good like this.” His tone is joking, revealing his amusement in your distress.

You only calm down and loosen your grip when the plane makes a safe ascent. You open your eyes to make sure you’re well above the city, noticing Shigaraki’s focus is, thankfully, somewhere else. To combat your growing boredness, you decide to pull something out to occupy yourself.

The two of you mind your business for a while, both indulging in reading a contract and a cheesy vacation novel respectfully. The hours drone on and your intermittent time-checks become more than frequent. You still have ten out of 14 hours to go.

“(y/n), I would suggest you sleep now, since our first meeting is right after we land,” Shigaraki suggests, breaking the silence that had loomed for hours.

“Would you be able to wake me up in a few hours, then? I think it would be important to discuss my duties for this weekend before we arrive,” you hope that he’s kind enough to agree, but he has a habit of leaving you in the dark till the last minute. It’s shocking that you haven’t quit sooner.

“Yes.” Your conversation is pretty much shut down, but you don’t mind, preferring to rest your eyes as soon as possible.

—

You’re in a deep sleep when you’re jolted awake. You look around to see if it was your boss who woke you, but he’s still sitting in his seat, calm as ever.

Shigaraki’s pilot’s voice comes through the speaker, explaining the small patch of turbulence.

When Shigaraki notices that you’re back awake he tells you to rest again. “You’re going to be very busy, so you should sleep longer. I wasn’t planning on waking you soon anyway.”

—

The plane is still high in the air when your consciousness comes back. Just when you’re about to open your eyes fully, a ringing hits your ears.

You feel a short tap on your shoulder before Shigaraki’s voice reaches your ears. “It’s been an hour,” he says.

You open your eyes to see your boss retreating from in front of you. He actually woke me up! And surprisingly kindly, you thought.

Suddenly, your legs cramp and your hours of sleeping in a leather chair catch up to you. When you move to reposition yourself, an extremely harsh bump throws you forward, straight towards your boss.

Shigaraki grunts when you land directly in front, and practically on top, of him. Your hands had made their way onto his thighs when you had been propelled forward. Now, you sat in a terribly embarrassing position, directly in front of him.

“Sir! I’m so sorry!” You yelp. The plane is doing nothing to help you as it continues to throw you around.

Shigaraki’s face grimaces, but doesn’t say anything in response. Instead, he offers his hand to you, pulling so that you’re back on your feet.

However, Murphy’s law decides to bless you in your moment of embarrassment. With one last hefty, turbulent jolt, you are thrown flush against our boss’s chest, your legs falling in between his open legs. If somebody walked in on you at this exact moment, you were sure that they would gravely misunderstand your relationship.

Heat rises to your cheeks when Shigaraki places his hands on your hips to prevent you from moving. Unpredictably, he’s more flushed than you’ve ever seen him. It’s a good look on him and it makes you fall harder for him in that moment.

“Apologies, (y/n), I wasn’t watching myself,” he grumbles , dropping his hands from your body.

“It’s all right, I apologize for falling for you.” The words tumble out of your mouth without any filter.

“What was that?” Shigaraki’s frown falters.

“Nothing, sir!” You peep, slinking back a few feet. Had you said that out loud?

“All right, if that’s what you say…” He smirks at you. “You know, you don’t have to call me sir when we’re alone. Call me Tomura instead.”

First name basis when you’re alone. That’s something that only friends would do… Or lovers.

Were you reading into this correctly? Or were you finally falling delusionally in love with him?

Your eyes glance at Shigaraki’s—or Tomura’s now—lips. His gaze fixes on yours as if to say “Kiss me, I dare you.”

Leaning forward and placing your knee in between his legs, you shakily hover your lips above his ear.

“May I kiss you, Tomura?”

“Yes,” he simply responds with a groan, and presses his lips to yours.

The desire between you encompasses the room. You can feel the heat coming off of him as he looks into your eyes when you pull away.

Tomura greedily grabs your face again and pulls you into a deep kiss. His hands are on your sides, grabbing your waist as you move to straddle his lap.

You can feel his growing bulge under you and slowly grind your hips against his. Tomura lets out a shaky groan, hands gripping you tighter, keeping you firmly against his crotch.

“Are we going too fast?” You whisper when you notice Tomura’s state, his pupils blown wide and his lips plumped up by desire.

“No… Just look how hard you’ve made me,” he breathes, bucking his hips up to yours in desperation.

Tomura places his lips on your neck before hastily pulling your dress shirt from your skirt. Breaking from you, he unbuttons your shirt and greedily grabs your bare waist.

“Tomura, touch me,” you beg.

No matter how aroused you are by simply kissing, you want to go impossibly further with him, and as soon as possible.

“Where do you want me to touch you?” You’re broken from your thoughts and shamefully beg him, “Please, just anywhere.”

Tomura’s hand makes its way under your skirt and to the cloth of your panties. Pulling off your skirt and stockings and throwing them aside, he wastes no time in pushing your panties to the side and running a slim finger over the length of your pussy.

“You’re so wet. Look at you,” he groans before showing you the glistening wetness on his finger.

“Don’t tease,” you whine as he swipes fingers across your slit, avoiding your throbbing clit.

“As you wish,” he chuckles.

Without warning, Tomura flips you over and plunges his middle finger into your hole. Although you’re slick enough to be dripping onto the seat, you let out a squeal at his finger’s intrusion. Then, slowly, with the rhythmic movements of his hand, the burning fades and your moans reach a new volume.

With one particular brush against your g-spot, you begin to writhe uncontrollably. Tomura grins slyly, skillfully focusing on hitting that spot with every thrust.

Seconds later, lips reach your clit and suck you until you’re practically falling apart. Your moans can probably be heard by the pilot in the next room, but you don’t care enough to quiet down.

His head lifts off of you for a second so he can reach up to kiss you. Your saliva intermixes with every second your mouths meet and you swear you’re in heaven.

When Tomura adds a second, then third finger, you’re practically sent over the edge. His long fingers press along every nerve that sets your body on fire. Then, with the curve of his digits and a swipe of his thumb across your clit, you’re screaming his name and hitting your peak.

“Cumming!” You cry out, and collapse against the seat.

“Fuckkk, that’s a good girl,” he groans, slowing the pace of his movements before pulling his hand away and licking your cum from his skin.

Breathless and still hazy, you grin stupidly at Tomura.

“What’s next?” His voice ends your trance.

Wordlessly, you push Tomura off of you and force him into the chair behind him. Kneeling with as much poise as you can, you’re now face to face with his crotch, and by the look of it, he’s bursting at the seams.

Running your hands up and down your boss’s thighs, you narrowly touch his aching cock with every caress.

“Don’t make me wait, I think I've been patient enough.”The look you receive from above is one of restraint.

Your last touch never leaves his pants, moving across his lap to his sensitive clothed member. Clasping the zipper with two nimble fingers, you pull down his pants and underwear to reveal his cock at long last.

The sight that is Tomura Shigaraki’s dick is a work of art. In all ways, is it pretty, with its flushed tip, the soft trailing veins on the underside, and the little bead of perch that’s slowly dribbling towards the shaft.

Eager to have a taste, you lean forward and press soft kisses along the length, making your way to the head. At this point, Tomura is letting out soft grunts and groans whenever you make contact with his skin, and you can imagine what it’ll be like when he’s inside of you.

“Nnngh,” your boss borderline whimpers when you take him into your mouth and give a long hard suck.

You smile sheepishly when Tomura grabs a fistful of your hair and starts to guide your head. Soon your nose is meeting his trimmed pubes and he’s thrusting into you at a hazardously fast pace.

Gazing into Tomura’s eyes, you blindly reach up to cup his heavy balls. When you lightly give them a squeeze, he hisses and his cock twitches at the back of your throat..

The feeling of him throbbing in your mouth turns you on to such a degree that you feel your pussy begin to flood with wetness. Your panties are pushed against your folds and currently becoming drenched with your leaking desire.

Another twitch of Tomura’s length refocuses you on him. Sensing he’s close, you fasten the pace of your head as he moves his hand to grip your face. Tomura fucks into your mouth like no tomorrow. His balls now slap wildly against your chin, accompanying a lewd squelch with every thrust.

Your throat constantly constricts around his long cock as his thrusts become erratic and sloppy. A few last curses and one loud groan signifies the end for Tomura, and you feel his hot seed pour down your throat.

“Mmm,” you lick your lips after swallowing his load, opening your mouth to show it was gone.

“You are too sexy, I don’t think I can hold back any longer.” Strong arms lift you up hastily and throw you down onto the leather seat.

—

Tomura’s cock is still hard after two rounds and it’s clear he wants to continue. From your dazed out state, you can still feel the cum dripping from your hole. Wriggling under your boss’s grip, you attempt to reposition yourself.

The result of your movements is the sticky squish of cum in your pussy that seems to have Tomura raring to go.

“Can’t stop myself, I just want to keep cumming in you,” a breathless whine comes from him as he starts to move again.

“Please, cum in me again,” you reply breathlessly.

Unlike the last two times that had you sprawled out on your back, this new position has you on your knees, face pressed against the leather. Tomura takes you from behind, gaining speed with every forceful push.

To gain a better angle, Tomura brings your arms behind your back and bounds with a single hand. You can only squirm and arch as his cock hits that one spot repeatedly.

“Oh, fuck, Tomura!” you scream out when your boss’s free hand finds itself drawing circles on your clit.

The pleasure is starting to get so intense that your body is spamming under his, yet he continues fuck you as though he wants permanently leave you in his shape.

The familiar feeling of release builds up and you can feel the way you clamp down on him. Hitting that perfect spot one last time, you cum and scream out his name. Tomura fucks you straight through your orgasm, with little regard for your overstimulated body

Unfortunately, he still hasn’t cum yet, and with lust clouding his mind, he ignores your whines and protests.

“Just a little bit more. Just need to fill you up one last time. You think my good girl can last a bit longer?” Tomura questions.

“Yeah.” His praise goes straight to your core and suddenly it feels all too good again, the pain only adding to the pleasure.

After hearing your answer, Tomura grips the fat of your ass with a new vigour. Sinfully lewd noises are the only thing coming from his mouth, each groan ripped out of his throat with each clench of your core.

*SMACK!* All of a sudden Tomura slaps your ass, making you tighten in shock. He grins in realization, his cock throbbing at the discovery.

“So,” he starts, “Is it that you like being hit, or are you doing this for me?”

“Neither,” you barely gasp out as a palm hits your ass again.

“Are you sure? Your body is telling me otherwise.”

You aren’t able to reply when the force of his thrusts and his slaps are stealing the breath from your lungs. Tomura uses your silence as a way to fill your head with mockery and praise.

“Can’t answer, huh? Did I fuck you stupid?” He laughs haughtily, pulling your back against his chest so he can whisper it in your ear.

This new position allows him to have you far more intimately than ass up, doggy style. He uses it to seductively whisper in your ear, making fun of the way you clench with every use of “good girl” or “masochistic slut.”

His rough voice in your ear adds to the pleasure and the sensory overload sends you to the brink of an orgasm.

As you’re reaching your peak, you begin to worry that you’ll yet again cum before him. Hoping to send him straight to his orgasm, you deliberately clench around him. He reacts to your tightness with a deep groan, grip tightening around your hip to pull you flush up to his groin.

Not even five seconds later, his cock violently twitches inside you and his cum pours into you without warning.

The noise Tomura lets out can only be described as a whimper. It’s a whimper that’s enough to have you squeezing around him, cumming, and milking him for all that he’s worth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he curses, letting out the last drops of his orgasm.

Grinding out the final bits of your highs, Tomura shockingly pulls you into a sweet kiss. Eventually you stop moving against each other, watching how he pulls out and a river of semen flows from you. It coats the sticky seat below you and dribbles onto the carpeted floor.

Watching your body quiver in the post-sex afterglow entrances Tomura to the point that he doesn’t notice your eyes closing. He finally moves from where he was standing after five whole minutes, but by then you’re fast asleep, slumped against the seat. Walking off to the plane’s washroom to find a washcloth, he watches you peacefully snoozing. There’s a certain tranquility to your calmness that makes him want to care for you more than he should.

—

Your boss, Tomura Shigaraki, thinks you’re beautiful, he always has, but it wasn’t until recently that he realized he liked you as more than an employee. Being fearful of any form of love, he had pushed you away when he suspected your crush. Little did he know his avoidance would only work against him.

—

Returning from the washroom, Tomura decides it would be stupid to pretend that there isn't mutual attraction (he thinks beating around the bush would be stupid.) So the two of you will have to talk about that later, something which he might struggle with. After all, he isnt used to having to confront his feelings, let alone acknowledge them. Whatever it is you two need to sort out, it’ll be worth it, he decides.

For now, Tomura wipes your glossy skin and smiles lovingly at you sleeping body.

a/n: sorry for disappearing!!!!!! i got a job so i’ve been busy. also, this was inspired by a dream i had💀

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writtenbymkl · 1 year

Text

[9:37 am]

word count: 1,460

a/n: i’ve been listening to sorry, heart like crazy since the concert and it was already my favorite before but after seeing live with chenle standing right in front of me and renjun & haechan looking like they were about to cry … it changed something in me :-( anyways, this wasn’t proof read haha bc i just wrote it all out of nowhere, thanks for reading!! :3

pairing: any dream member x reader

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊

it’s been a 2 weeks that you’ve broken up. you wonder if he feels regret for all those times he left you alone and thinking to yourself if his career was worth risking for you. his heart to you was so small that you thought he probably already moved on. those 2 years probably meant nothing to him.

you toss and turn each night and wonder if he’s doing the same. probably not. all you can do is hope he’s repeating i’m sorry in his head. you wish he would show up and say sorry. so that you could take him into your arms and tell him it’s okay and that you know he didn’t mean it.

you wonder if the amount of times he let you down adds up to the amount of times he made you the happiest person in the universe. before you had met, you didn’t believe in love or soulmates, it was pointless and every couple you had ever seen only ended up breaking up.

you were taking a walk around the park, taking pictures of the sunset and the pond in front of you. it’s a beautiful scenery and it’s time for the tulips to blossom soon, those were your favorites.

“tulips are nice aren’t they?” you hear someone say. you jump at the voice and almost drop your phone.

“sorry, didn’t mean to scare you there…” turning around, you see a guy around your age with his hands in his pocket. he’s wearing a baseball cap and has a black mask on his face.

“it’s… alright. but yeah, they are,” you smile looking back to the tulips. “that’s why spring is one of my favorite seasons of the year, it’s when the tulips get to blossom.” you watch as he takes steps towards the tulips and crouches down. his hand reaches to pick it from the ground and stands back up.

“hey, what are doing? you can’t be pulling the tulips from out the ground!” you exclaimed. he stands in front of you holding the tulip to you.

“here, you said you tulips were your favorite.” you look down at the tulip in disbelief, then look back up to the guy. you can’t tell what’s funnier, the fact that some random guy picked a tulip off the ground because you said you liked them or the fact that you’re standing here and talking to a stranger.

you grab the yellow tulip from his hand. “i don’t know if i should be saying thanks… but thank you i guess,” you sigh. “just don’t do that again, they still haven’t even blossomed and this isn’t your property to be taking them you know?” he just shrugs and looks out to the sunset. “have you heard of something called living in the moment?”

you scoff. “of course i have, i don’t necessarily call this living in the moment mr. mysterious.” you decide that it’s been enough time to be talking to someone you didn’t know, you’re surprised you were even able to hold a conversation for longer than five minutes. you began walking away to make your way home after a long day but somehow you manage to feel a presence behind you.

“are you following me?” you ask as you turn around quickly, he stops. “um, no… i just happen to be going in the same direction as you.” he scratches the back of his neck and looks around. you squint your eyes at him suggesting that you’re suspicious of him.

“then you can go ahead of me,” you take a step to the side and gesture your hand as a way to make way for him to surpass you. you watch as he slowly makes his way towards you and awkwardly nods. you want to make sure he passes you and that he isn’t following you for sure. but just as he passes you, he halts and turns around to face you.

“this is kind of awkward but may i have your number?” your heart drops because you’ve never experienced someone asking for your number except for that one time you went to the bookstore in high school and some boy asked you for your number. you had said yes because it hadn’t ever happened to you and you didn’t know how to reject a stranger. after a day of talking, you realized meeting people wasn’t for you. so how were you suppose to reject the guy standing right in front of you?

“um…i-“ you look anywhere but at the guy. this is so awkward and you wish the ground would just swallow you whole. your chest is pounding, it’s how you feel any time someone you’ve never met talks to you. overthinking is your thing. why does he want your number? is he gonna murder you? did you do something? maybe you offended him over the tulip thing and now he wants to sue you?

“are you okay? you look a little pale… you don’t have to give me your number. i came off a little too strong didn’t i?” he lightly laughs. you nod but then you shake your head to the side. “what, you can’t talk now? is that it?” you slightly pout. “i’m kidding, it’s alright, i was a little weird about this wasn’t i?” he asks.

“it’s not that… i’m just… not really used to people coming up to me and asking for my number out of nowhere,” you tuck your hands into the pockets of your sweater and rock on your heels. “especially guys who rip out tulips off the ground.” you deadpan. you hear him nervously laugh. “yeah sorry about that, i don’t really know much about flowers if you couldn’t tell.”

you laugh at remembering your first encounter with him. he was sweet, considerate, and funny that you wonder how you’re here in bed with tears running down your face while thinking about him. you shouldn’t be wishing he was here right now. you never thought the day would come where you’re going back against your word. you remember before you ever got into a relationship, you said you would never cry over a breakup. sure, you would be upset, but you wouldn’t let it affect you and stop you from living your life. and whenever you said this, people would tell you that you wouldn’t know unless you experienced it, but being the stubborn person you are, you shrugged it off saying you knew yourself. now here you are doing exactly the opposite of that.

“why can’t you understand that we can’t go public?” he asked running his hand through his hair in frustration. you can never ask him this question without it ending up in an argument.

“i do understand! i’m just saying that we should tell your company or your manager, or someone in case anything ever happens. i’m not telling you to go public with me, i just don’t want anything to happen to us.” you take a seat next to him and tuck your knees under your chin. leaning your cheek on your knee, you watch as his eyes are shut and he has his head in his hands. you don’t mean to make his head hurt, but if he wants this to work out, he has to try too. a relationship goes both ways.

“i don’t want anything to happen to us either. you know that. but if my company finds out, they’ll tell us to break up,” he sighs. “but isn’t it better for you to tell at least someone you trust? dispatch is everywhere these days and i don’t wanna get you in trouble one day…” you lean your head against his shoulder and he leans his against yours.

“i wish we could just be happy without worrying about the backlash.” you suddenly think of a question you’ve been meaning to ask him for a while. your heart needs to be sure of this. “hey, if we ever do get caught… will you still be by my side?” his head lifts up and he looks at you. “of course i will, i knew what i was getting into when i gave you that tulip 2 years ago,” you smile. “and you’ll be by mine no matter what right?” he continues. you nod and kiss his cheek.

at least that’s what you thought. were you too greedy? did he get tired of being by your side? maybe that’s why didn’t fight for you. and now you sit in the dark wondering why you let him he let you down continuously for the past year. as you sit in your bed and remember all the good and bad times of your relationship, for the first time today, your phone lights up the room. your heart races at the message.

i’m sorry.

can we talk?

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katcoquette · 2 years

Note

Hi lovely! Can we please get a part 2 of #15? X

fine fine you've convinced me (; part two of this blurb that I was very tempted to leave as an angsty one shot but decided to be nice and give you all a happy ending. enjoy!

"choose her, I'd rather be remembered than loved with half a heart."

You hadn’t seen Rooster since you’d left him sitting silently at the bar a couple of weeks ago. You didn’t know what was more frustrating, the fact that the no contact had continued, or that you were even wishing for it to end in the first place.

Even without any words, he’d told you he didn’t want to be with you, and now you needed to listen. You weren’t going to be an ‘option’ on his roster.

It was another Sunday afternoon, though you wouldn’t have been able to tell that from the crowd- it was unusually busy.

You’d been rushing around for a solid three hours, so when there was finally a lull in the rush, and Hangman was waving you over to their table, you were grateful for the break.

“Haven’t seen ya in a while, Y/N.” Hangman’s eyes follow your movements as you slump into the booth across from him, sighing in relief at finally being off your feet. The three men in front of you were a welcome distraction- you’d gotten along well with them and though you weren’t sure you’d admit it, you had missed hanging out with them.

“Yeah, well, I’ve just been here.” You gesture vaguely around the Hard Deck

“I think he meant with our boy, Rooster.” Payback clarifies, though you can tell he’s trying to be delicate about it.

You deadpan. “Oh. Right.”

“For the record, I’m on your side.” He says matter-of-factly, earning him a sharp nudge to the ribs from Fanboy. “I mean-“ He gives Fanboy a look. “What happened between the two of you...?”

You cock your head with an amused smile. “You guys sure are subtle.”

Your eyes drift to the door opening behind them, and speak of the devil, Rooster walks through them. His friends follow your gaze, noticing your shift in attention. He spots you first, almost not noticing who you were with. His jaw clenches, and you’re sure Hangman’s smirking at him.

You clear your throat, eyes snapping back to the pilots in front of you, and you plaster a smile onto your face, trying to mask the sourness that had crept into your mood at the sight of your ex… something.

“I should get back to work. It was good to see you guys.” You try your best to ignore the fact that Rooster’s heading toward your group as you hastily stand, “Y/N, wait-” You’re too focused on making your getaway that you barely hear Fanboy, patting Hangman’s shoulder as you pass him.

It’s a friendly gesture, but you don’t do it to be friendly. You do it because it causes a scowl to cross Rooster’s face, and maybe it’s toxic of you, but come on, the man deserves a taste of his own medicine.

“Y/N…” It sounds like a warning as you pass by him on your way back behind the bar. He reaches for your wrist, glaring at his friends before his gaze shifts to you and soften. “Can we talk?”

Your bent arm is the only thing separating the two of you from being chest to chest. You gently pull your arm from his grasp and take a step back, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” The look you give him is hard, a stark contrast to the emotions that are clearly swirling behind your eyes.

You stare at each other for a few moments, and then you’re breaking his gaze and walking past him.

He huffs, turning after you. “It’ll take five minutes.” Then, as if he can sense your annoyance, adds gently, “Please.”

Your back is to him, but you stop in your tracks, taking a deep breath in and looking up. Fine. You send a look to your coworker, silently questioning if she’ll be okay without you for a little bit longer.

She’s convincingly holding back a smile as she nods to you, so you turn to Rooster. “Five minutes.” You confirm, brushing past him again to head to the deck outside. You glance at the table of his friends as you pass again and see three varying degrees of a smirk on their faces as Rooster follows behind you.

As soon as the door closes, he has a question for you. “Is something going on between you and Hangman?”

The question almost makes you want to walk right back inside without hearing another word. “Are you seriously asking me that?” You look back at him incredulously.

He shrugs his shoulders matter of factly. “I just think if you’re gonna move on with someone, it should be with someone outside my friend group.”

You shake your head as you turn away from him.

“Jesus, Bradley. It’s been two weeks!” You huff out, sitting down on the patio, dangling your feet over the open edge.

“I know… I know-“

“If I didn’t even want to be in a casual relationship with someone as amazing as you, why would I be in one with Bagman?” You snap, watching him sit down next to you, hardly realizing what you’d said.

Not that it wasn’t true, but you didn’t really feel like this was the time to be boosting his ego.

“I’m sorry. I just…” He’s looking down as he trails off, but he looks back up when your words register in his mind.

And then he’s smiling.

“You think I’m amazing?” You scoff, but your eyes soften along with your tone. “Don’t let it go to your head.” A moment of silence passes as both of you stare ahead.

“I was jealous.” He admits.

Your eyes don’t leave the waves in the distance as you answer him. “You don’t have a reason to be jealous Bradshaw, nothing’s going on.”

He’s looking at you now, you can feel it. “But I do.” The words finally bring your eyes back to his. “What do you mean?”

“A lot’s changed for me in the past couple of weeks, and I came to find you, to tell you that I was sorry.”

You curse the flip your stomach does.

“…for what?” It’s a simple question, but those two words could drastically change the course of the conversation.

“For not saying anything. I think I was just sort of in shock, you know? But I shouldn’t have stayed quiet, you deserved better than that.” Oh.

He was apologizing for not verbally confirming that your relationship was over. For not explaining…what? That he was sleeping with other people?

“Okay…” You start, “…it’s fine. No need to apologize, we had fun, and now it’s over.”

You mean it, but not because you were feeling particularly forgiving. It was mostly because while the initial sting of his silent rejection had faded, embarrassment was still there for misreading his feelings in the first place. So, you really just wanted him to feel satisfied with the apology so everyone could move on.

“We’re good.” You pat his knee, and start to stand up, but he stops you by grabbing your hand.

He gives you a small smile, running his thumb over the back of your hand. “I’m not finished.”

“Oh.” OH. You shift back into your original position.

He’s still holding your hand. “I also wanted to apologize for letting you walk away. I should’ve never let you walk away.” That was more the apology you were looking for, but you still didn’t let any hope ignite.

“I almost died last week. And I’m not trying to be dramatic, but you were the only thing I was thinking about.” He says it so casually you almost miss it, but he’s already continuing with his speech before you can interrupt to say anything.

“Your laugh, and looking into your eyes, and the moment you walked away from me replaying in my head over and over. I couldn’t let that be my last memory of you. I didn’t want it to be my last memory of you.”

“What are you saying?” You whisper, wondering if he remembers saying those same words to you two weeks ago. By the quirk of his lip you figure he does.

“You’re not just ‘one of my options’. You’re the only option. And I’m sorry it took a near-death experience to realize it, but I’m prepared to spend all my time in the foreseeable future to proving that to you.” He says it so earnestly, so sincerely, that it’s easy for you to decide he could have another chance.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t going to let him prove it to you before you let him in on that decision. “We can start with tonight.”

He smiles, letting out a breath as if he’d been holding it as he waited for your answer. “Deal.” He hops off the patio, then stands in front of you. “That was more stressful than any mission I’ve been on.”

You giggle, holding your arms out to him, wrapping them around his neck as he steps forward between your legs. “That can’t be true.” He wraps his arms around your waist, leaning in to kiss you.

“It is.” He says against your lips.

It’s easy to be distracted by him, but you remember the shocker he’d dropped mere minutes ago. You pull your head back, “What was that about almost dying?” He just smiles, “Nothin’ baby.” You start to protest, but then he’s kissing you again, and you let yourself be distracted for a little bit longer.

Until another thought interrupts you. You groan, pulling away again. “I think it’s been longer than five minutes, and normally I wouldn’t be so strict about a conversation limit, but I am technically on the clock.” You explain.

He laughs. “Oh my god, yeah of course. Let’s get you back to work.” He offers you a hand, reaching above his head to help you up, and then he lifts himself back up onto the patio.

You smile at each other as you walk back to the door. He opens it for you and waits for you to go in front of him, both of you probably blushing and smiling like idiots to his friends at a table near you.

This time, you don’t notice them. You rock back slightly on your heels, with your arms crossed when you turn back to him. “I get off in an hour…” You trail off.

He gently takes your hand, forcing you to uncross your arms. “I’ll be here.” He kisses your cheek and smiles.

You return it, then head back to help your coworker finish up for the afternoon. Bradley joins his friends in the booth once you’re back behind the bar.

“You better not fuck that up again.” Hangman comments, taking another swig of his drink. “Speeches like that only work once.” It’s only then that Rooster takes his eyes off of you to focus on the men around him.

“Not planning on it.” He responds.

And this time as he watches you walk away, there’s no doubt in his mind that you’ll be coming back to him.

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#bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster fic #rooster bradshaw fic #rooster bradshaw x reader

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brokenmusicboxwolfe · 7 months

Text

A rest day….

Wakes up before dawn. Pain. or rather PAIN! as I struggle to walk to the bathroom.

Lies awake a few hours, hurting, hurting, then thinking of things to worry about, like “OMG, what if a line goes on the boat during this storm”

Sleeps.

11:45 am!!! NO!!!!!

PAIN!!! Rushes to get my feet bound up. Rushes isa bit slow when you are hobbled. I can barely put any weight at all on my bad ankle, but the animals need food. I am spared their grumpiness at my lateness by the rain.

I tear everything off my bad foot and try to call Mom. An aide is giving her a bath. At least the hour gives me a chance to brush my hair, eat, brush my teeth….

Breakfast. Or is it lunch after noon? One of the pumpkin bagels, I baked a few days ago, some stewed grapes I got from a recipe (deseeding made it not worth it), canned pears (couldn’t afford non-Ryoga related fresh fruit yesterday), but I forgot the cheese.

Rebinds up the foot. I must have done something right because instead of PAIN! it’s only pain!. Does chores, stupid chores.

There are things to do at Mom’s house, including hauling in the trash can before the storm topples it. Gets the mail out of the box, and finds another damn People magazine. I can’t get the company to stop sending the stupid things, and I have less than zero interest in gossip about celebrities, or should I say “celebrities” ‘cause 75% of these people I haven’t heard of anyway. I don’t shield it from the rain.

I sit on the porch to call Mom, bad foot unwrapped again and propped up on the back of the bench, droplets from the heavy rain misting me. We talk for about an hour. I tell her about yesterday, moan about my pain, talk about news stories, and tell her the story of the latest What We Do In the Shadows **that I watched. Finally she is struggling to hold her phone, so we have to say goodbye.

Determined to rest my damn sore ankle, I go lie down in the bedroom with my stuff.

I listen to the rain in the dark a couple minutes before turning on a lantern to read from one of the magazines from the days when I used to read tons. It turns out to be a copy of Film Comment, and I end up reading one on Ingmar Bergman’s legacy.

I pop in my earbuds to listen to music while I read, and it starts off with a track from Terminator (the flashback/dream of life in the future human hideouts) then shuffle gives me Green Day.

Yeah, Wake me when September ends indeed. I’m lying on the bed my parents slept in until Pop died, surrounded by my things where 99% are from when Pop was alive and before Mom’s stroke took her away from here. It’s been 9 yrs since Pop died, and Mom’s stoke was five years ago. I think anyway. Time is getting blurry and squishy, and with Mom I spent about two years thinking she would get to come home. I’m feeling the grief.

Then the rain falls so hard I can’t hear the music.

I need to go do something, feel useful and not get all sad again. The storm is getting heavy, but I drive back to the house with electricity. The radio is on and Don’t Fear the Reaper is playing. Of course.

UPS finally brought the dog meds. And of course they left it out in the rain on the trunk of the broken down car. They never go up to the house, and though I asked one UPS driver to put packages in the car, there seems to be a different driver every time. Leaving a package out in the rain during a tropical storm makes sense if you don’t give a damn, and why would they?

I make jelly from some of the grapes, and juice some more. I discover that the surejell no longer contains the instruction sheet with ratios of sugar snd juice, so it’s Google time. And the jars have no sticker sheets like they used to, so I won’t be able to label them.

This is NOT resting my foot! All this boiling, preparing jars, cooking juice, and such…I have to stand in the kitchen to do it. But I get it done, seven jars of jelly.

I remember I will have to wash all this later, walking around on my stupid feet and ankles, and boy have I made a mess.

Time to feed the animals. The dogs stay safely in their houses, the cats are fed on the porch, and then there is Ryoga. I stand in the rain holding my umbrella over him while I get soaked. Pigs hate rain, but it’s a bit absurd.

More juicing, and now I tear the screen on the filter so now I have to get seeds out.

The sun about to set, the swim dilemma arrives. I always swim without missing a day until I stop for the year, but this year I went to take care of Mom during swimming season. I feel like I haven’t swum enough yet.

Reasons against: The water cools very fast, so has already gotten dangerously cold. (my infamous “hypothermic cardiac event” has made my super vulnerable) Yesterday it was painful to get in. Almost worse, I’ll have to walk to the pool, with no ankle braces or boots. That’s a looong way out there.

Reasons for: I LOVE swimming and now every day might be my last. I had made a goal to swim until the start of autumn, and I am so dang close. I love swimming during a tropical storm. Did I mention I LOVE swimming???

I go swimming. Pain. Cold. Something falls near the pool. More cold. I push things, swimming across the bottom with the cold stinging. The pain walking back gets over shadowed by the “cold wobblies”. Yikes.

Okay, so swimming now might not be wise, but I’m glad I went. I am also cold.

And have more grapes to juice.

And supper to cook.

and OMG my feet and ankles hurt!

Yeah, I dunno if I exactly rested my problems with my feet and and ankles. But by my standards it counts. I mean, I didn’t have the ankle brace and boot rubbing at the sore for most of the day for the first time since May!

Oh no, is that a sore throat? What’s with the sudden sneezing. And I feel like I’m coming down with something, like a fever creeping up….

Well, if I do get sick maybe THEN I will stay off my bad foot long enough for it to heal!

**I had the first two seasons on DVD, but have finally given up that they will release more. I can’t afford streaming, so I went with “other means”. With my internet it’s an endurance test to get through, but both of us enjoy the show. If only my brother had a place to watch it among the approximately one zillion services they subscribe to I would have watch some of it with Mom back in June.

#my day #Venting #busy

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elianamarie-blog · 2 years

Text

Happier

Holy crap this took a lot longer than I wanted it to. But I hope you like it @taternuts! I enjoyed your first request so I hope this does it justice! Based off Olivia Rodrigo's song Happier.

We broke up a month ago.

Your friends are mine, you know, I know

You’ve moved on, found someone new.

One more girl who brings out the better in you.

“I still can’t believe Jackie,” Donna said to her best friend as they sat in Y/n’s room, hanging out for the night. “After what Hyde did to you, she still decided to go out with him!”

“Yeah…” she muttered, trailing off, refusing to look up from her magazine. It had been a month since they broke up and her heart still ached whenever she thought about it, her heart would break all over again. She wanted so badly to forget about him and how much she loved him still.

When she finally got the guts to go over to Eric’s house, she would see Jackie in his lap and be reminded what he did to her. The first few times, she’d have to excuse herself and go home because she’d be caught dead if he saw her cry. And the worst part was he didn’t seem bothered by it at all. She still cried about him at night, wishing she never fell for him in the first place, but those damn blue eyes and sly smirk made her feel more than she should’ve. Now all she had left were lonely nights and a heart turned to ash.

“I haven’t been able to look at her the same,” Y/n said, looking up and meeting Donna’s eyes. “It’s hurts too much.”

“I know,” Donna replied and rubbed her shoulder comfortingly.

“I got betrayed by both my best friend and boyfriend.” Fresh tears filled her eyes. “And the worst part is I still love him.”

“I know,” Donna said gently and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “It must be worse considering you and Hyde started off as best friends too.”

“Yes,” she wailed and couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. “Will I ever get over him?”

“Eventually, yes,” the gorgeous red-head answered. “It’ll take a little bit but eventually you will. Soon, you’ll be able to look at him and not feel a thing.”

“But Donna,” Y/n said and wiped her nose with her sleeve. “He already treats her better than he ever treated me.”

And I thought my heart was detached,

From all the sunlight of our past.

But she’s so sweet,

She’s so pretty.

Does that mean you forgot about me?

“Here,” Y/n said, handing Steven a paper bag. She had gone over there to hang out with the gang, despite her feelings.

“What’s this?” he asked, grabbing it.

“Your things that you left at my house,” she responded coldly.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” he said and placed the bag beside him.

“You’re returning his stuff?” Eric asked. “You know what that means; she’s absolutely through with you.”

“Done like the family pig,” Fez said and mimicked a sizzling noise.

“Fez, it’s ‘whipped like the family pig’,” Donna responded.

Fez looked at her confused. “What’s the difference?”

“Cute,” Hyde snorted and turned to Y/n. “Look, can we talk?”

“We already talked, Hyde,” she said.

He noticed the way she said his last name. When they were together, she always called him by his first unless they were joking around. The familiar sharp ache started to bloom across his chest. “Please, Y/n. I only need five minutes.”

She deeply inhaled and folded her arms across her chest. “Fine.”

He nodded and led them out the basement door so that they had more privacy. Once he shut the door behind him, he turned to her. “Listen…I just want to start off with how sorry I am.”

“Yeah, you said that already.” She could feel the fragments of her heart turning to dust all over again.

“But it’s true.” He took a step closer to her. “This isn’t how I wanted any of this to go down.”

“How did you want it to go down, exactly?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, but not like this.”

“I don’t think it would’ve gone down well either way,” Y/n responded. “You end up dating one of my best friends…that’s something you can not just be okay with.”

Hyde looked down, guilt gnawing at his heart. “I know. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“But you did,” she said quietly, tightly wrapping her arms around her body. Whether it was from the cold or the need to protect herself, she couldn’t tell. It grew silent between them, neither of them knowing what to say. That is until Y/n spoke up, barley above a whisper. “When did you stop loving me?”

His head shot up at her. “What? I never did!”

“If you did, you wouldn’t have done what you did.” Fresh tears swelled in her eyes. “At some point you did.” She averted his gaze, her thoughts running a million miles a minute. “She made you forget about us, didn’t she? About me.”

“No, don’t say that. You know it’s not true, man.”

“You don’t need to lie to me anymore,” she said, her voice breaking. “I know the truth. She’s so pretty and sweet—when she wants to be. She’s so much better than me in every way.”

Steven shook his head sadly. “No, she’s not. Not even close.” He took a step closer to her and hesitantly brought his hands up to cup her face. When she didn’t pull away, he gently placed them against her wet cheeks. “She is nothing compared to you. You’re sweeter and so much kinder.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “And prettier.” He kissed her other cheek. “I need you, Y/n. Please, take me back.”

He leaned in to kiss her lips, but she jerked away, despite how much she didn’t want to. She’d never seen this side of him before. He was never this gentle and sweet and loving, but here he was, begging her to forgive him. “No, Steven! You can’t just kiss me and say these things and expect it to just go away!”

His arms fell at his sides as a cold wind blew in, sending goosebumps down his arms. It suddenly felt colder without her between his arms. “Come on, Y/n…”

“No!” she cried out once more, tears flowing rapidly down her face. The cold air started to freeze her face, but she didn’t care. “You’re a different person to me now. I know you had a lot of flaws, but I looked at you as someone who would never, ever hurt me.” She dug her palms into her eyes, images of him and Jackie flashing behind her eyelids. “And now every time I think about you two, I can’t get the image out of my head.”

His throat tightened at her confession. He opened his mouth to respond, but couldn’t find the right words, so instead he closed it.

“I’m going to go. This was a mistake.” She turned to leave, but his hand caught her wrist.

“If it makes you feel any better, she feels horrible about this whole thing too.”

“No,” she said firmly, pulling her hand back. “It doesn’t. You guys just feel guilty because you got caught.”

Hurt flashed across his face as she turned around and walked away from him, leaving him alone in the cold winter air.

And do you tell her she is the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen?

Eternal love bullshit you know you’ll never mean.

Remember when I believed you meant it when you said it first to me?

And now I’m picking her apart.

Like cuttin’ her down will make you miss my wretched heart.

But she’s beautiful, she looks kind.

She probably gives you butterflies.

Y/n and the group had decided to go play putt putt since the weather had let up and was decently warm for the winter day. She needed to move on and put aside her feelings for the good of the group, she told herself. She didn’t want to be that friend that left a whole group of friends just because of one person. Or in this case, two people. But the whole time they were out, she couldn’t stop looking at Hyde and Jackie who were close and kissing most of the time. He would move behind her and hold her arms to help her gain a perfect score, and then she would jump up and down before planting a big kiss on his lips.

Y/n began to feel like they were doing it on purpose, but she couldn’t let it show that it was bothering her, so it was all smiles and jokes with the others as she avoided eye contacted with either of them traitors. But she’d be lying if she said it didn’t bother her.

After playing putt putt, the group went out to get some food. They found themselves at the Hub where they found the booth to sit at as they waited for their food. She sat adjacent from the couple as well as sitting next to Donna. With their cuddling and her loving gaze at him, Y/n excused herself to go to the bathroom.

“You know what, I need to go too,” Donna said and excused herself with Y/n. When she walked in she saw Y/n standing in front of the mirror, gripping the sides of the sink. “You okay?”

Y/n inhaled, taking a deep breath. “I’m fine.” She let go of the dirty sink and took a step back, squaring her shoulders. “I am fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.”

“I will be at least.” She turned to the redhead. “I want him to be happy.”

“Do you really?” Donna asked her, quirking an eyebrow.

“I do,” Y/n replied. “Just not as happy as he was with me.”

“There it is,” Donna chuckled. “For the record, he isn’t.”

“Yeah? How do you know?”

“He doesn’t look at her the same way he looked at you,” she responded.

“You’re right,” Y/n said. “He looks at her better. I mean, how could he not? She’s beautiful.”

“Not like you, though,” Donna comforted her.

“He says I’m kinder than her. But that doesn’t mean anything; everyone is nicer than her.”

Donna chuckles. “Yeah, I guess.”

“She is actually bitchy all the time,” Y/n said, realization hitting. “Like she puts us down all the time. She thinks she’s better than us and…and…she’s such a snob!”

“You’re not wrong,” Donna agreed.

“Why do we hang out with her?” Y/n questioned. “I mean, all she does is make us feel bad about ourselves. She was hardly ever there for us when we needed her, but always expect us to be there for her…” She trailed off onto thought, glaring at the dirty floor. “Donna…I don’t think I can keep doing this.”

“Sure, you can,” Donna said. “Once you are able to move on from Hyde, everything will be fine.”

“No, what I mean is…I don’t think I can hang out with you guys at all. Not as long as Hyde and Jackie are there.”

“What? Y/n, no—”

“I’m sorry, Donna. I’ll still be your friend and hang out with you all, but if one of them are there, I can’t do it. I just can’t.” She locked her tear-filled eyes to Donna’s. “I still love him.”

Donna nodded sadly. “I understand. So, what are you going to do?”

“I think I’m going to go home.”

“Alright, I’ll come over later.” Y/n reached for the door, pulling it open. “Tell the group I’m sorry.”

I hope you’re happy.

I wish you all the best, really.

Say you love her, baby, just not like you loved me.

And think of me fondly when your hands are on her.

I hope you’re happy, but don’t be happier.

“Y/n?” a familiar voice came from behind her as she sifted through the records at the new record store.

She turned to see her ex-boyfriend standing behind her. Her breath caught in her throat upon seeing him. It had been three months since she last saw him. When winter transitioned to spring, she thought she had finally moved on enough to not hurt anymore. She had successfully avoided him and Jackie, thinking that not seeing them again would heal her wounds, but as he stood in front of her it made her heart clench, making her not realize how much she missed him. How much she still harbored feelings for him.

“Oh…hey,” she said quietly.

“That’s all you gotta say to me?” he asked angrily. “’Hey?’”

“Um…yes?” she responded awkwardly.

“So, you’re not going to tell me where the hell you’ve been for the last few months?”

“Why do you care?” she snapped. “What are you even doing here?”

“I work here,” he said flatly. “I’m the manager in this joint.”

She nodded, impressed. “Nice. How did you manage that?”

“My dad owns it.”

“Wow, didn’t know Bud cleaned himself up, let alone come back into town.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “No, my other dad. Found out Bud isn’t really my dad.”

“Wow,” she breathed. “That’s insane.”

“Yeah, you’d know about it if you’d been around,” he said coldly. “You just upped and left. Without a word. We thought something had happened to you until Donna said something.”

She sucked in her bottom lip between her teeth, shaking her head. “I don’t even know why you care.”

“Because I still care about you!”

She squinted her eyes at him. “Why? You didn’t seem to care too much when you cheated on me.”

“Are we still on this?” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Come on, Y/n, can we at least be civil with each other?”

“No,” she said sternly. “You’re asking a lot of me here. Do you really expect me to be in the same room with you two after what you did?”

He shrugged. “I was hoping we could move past it.”

She shook her again. “I can’t move past it when I still have feelings for you. I can’t get over it when you looked me dead in the eye and said you loved me. Until I can finally move on from you, I can’t be near you; I’m sorry.”

“Y/n—”

“Please, Steven,” she said, her voice breaking. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

“Come on, don’t be like this.”

She backed away, heading towards the door. “I wish you two the best, I really do. I heard how happy you are and how much you love her and that’s amazing. I really am happy for you, but I—I can’t.” Before he could say another word, she walked out into the Spring air where, for the first time, felt like warmth had enveloped her.

I hope you’re happy,

Just not like how you were with me.

I’m selfish, I know.

Can’t let you go.

So find someone great, but don’t find no one better.

I hope you’re happy, but don’t be happier.

“So, you’re really over him, huh?” Donna asked a few nights later as they hung out in the Forman basement. Jackie and Hyde were out on a date, allowing Y/n to hang out with everyone else.

Y/n inhaled deeply. “Yeah.”

Donna quirked an eyebrow.

“I will,” she finished and looked away. “If I’m being honest this has been the worst few months of my life. I hate that I can’t hang out with you guys when Hyde and Jackie are around.”

“Well, Y/n, no one blames you,” Eric said. “It’d be like if Donna and Kelso were together and flaunted it in front of me.”

“Technically, that did happen,” Y/n said and looked at Donna. “Just not this Kelso.”

“Yeah, please don’t remind me,” Eric grumbled. “But you see what I mean.”

“Yeah,” Y/n sighed and rubbed her tired eyes. Ever since she ran into Hyde a few days ago, she lost some sleep. “I just wish this didn’t hurt so much. It feels like I’m dying inside.” Silence fell among the five friends. “But, I did wish them the best,” she continued, trying to sound upbeat. “I decided I’m going to be mature about it and wish them to be happy.”

Donna squinted at her with an amused smirk. “No, you don’t.”

Y/n scoffed. “Wha—yes, I do!”

“Y/n…come on. It’s us,” Kelso said.

“I don’t want them to be miserable!”

“Y/n…” Fez said, smiling at her.

She paused, cowering under her friends’ scrutinizing stare. “Okay! I want him to realize that I made him happier than she ever could.”

“Yay, she finally admitted it,” Fez cheered cutely, folding his hands in his lap.

“I’m not proud of it!”

Donna giggled. “Y/n, it’s okay. It’s normal to feel this way.”

She looked at her friends for a minute before breaking their gaze. “Okay, enough about me. What’s new with you guys?”

“Nothing that wasn’t the same as yesterday,” Kelso said. “Oh! But Betsy did say her first word today.”

Everybody cried out with excitement.

“What was it?!” Y/n asked.

“Da-da,” Kelso swooned, feeling his heart swell.

“Kelso, that’s amazing!” Donna said.

“I know! Can you believe it? She is smart!”

As everyone was showing their excitement for Kelso, the basement door swung open, revealing Hyde and Jackie…holding hands. The room went suddenly still.

“Oh…hey,” Hyde said awkwardly and dropped Jackie’s hand.

“Hey,” Y/n said flatly.

“Wow,” Eric sighed. “This is awkward.”

“I think I’m going to go,” Y/n said.

“No, Y/n, don’t be ridiculous,” Jackie said. “We shouldn’t have to not be able to stay in the same room together.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have slept with my boyfriend, but here we are,” Y/n snapped.

“Ohhh,” Fez and Keslo said together.

“Do you have to bring that up every time?” Jackie asked, annoyed.

“This is the only time!” Y/n cried out. “I haven’t seen you since I caught you shoving your tongue down Steven’s throat!”

“Oh, come on, that was so long ago. Get over it,” Jackie said, cruelly.

“You were supposed to be my friend!” Y/n screeched. “And you went and stabbed me in the back! How the hell do you expect me to just ‘get over it?!’”

“Well, you’re going to have to figure it out because we can’t keep doing this.”

Y/n’s face grew dark. “You know what, Jackie? Go to hell. I don’t need this from my ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend.”

“Oh, screw you!” Jackie screeched.

“I can’t; not when you’re too busy screwing my boyfriend!”

“Excuse me? Who the hell do you think—!” Jackie screamed, only to be cut off by Y/n.

“You know exactly who you are, you man-stealing—!”

“Well, then maybe you shouldn’t have—!”

“Shouldn’t have what?!” Y/n screamed.

“You know what I—!”

“No, I don’t know what you mean!”

“If you don’t know, then I can’t tell you!”

“You’ve come this far, what’s stopping you now?!” Y/n waved her hands, beckoning them to herself as she stepped forward to Jackie. “C’mon, what is that you want to say?” she challenged.

Jackie glared at her ex-best friend. “Maybe if you would’ve satisfied Steven better, he wouldn’t have to come looking for someone better!”

“JACKIE!” Steven and Donna yelled, but before they could do anything else, Y/n had lunged at her, smacking her onto the ground.

Y/n was throwing punches wherever they could land, while Jackie was blocking her face and clawing at Y/n’s.

“You bitch!” Y/n screamed.

Jackie quickly grabbed a fistful of Y/n’s hair and yanked it back, making her head whip backwards. That angered Y/n even more as she kicked Jackie in the ribs, making her cry out in pain.

“Hey, hey, HEY!” Eric yelled as Fez wrapped his arms around Y/n’s waist and pulled her off Jackie just as Steven grabbed her by the waist. “What the hell, you two?!”

“Prom Queen needs to know when to keep her big mouth shut and learn some respect!” Y/n shouted, breathing hard. Fez tightened his hold on her just in case she decided to lunge again.

“How dare you bring that up!” Jackie screeched, trying to lunge again, but Hyde stopped her. “You know I lost to Brittany Green!”

“Good! Because she deserved it more than you!”

Jackie gasped. “Tramp!”

“That’s rich coming from you! You know what?” Y/n said, getting out Fez’s grip. “I don’t need this. I don’t need nor deserve to have this thrown at my face for something that wasn’t even my fault. I’m going home; you two deserve each other.” As she calmly made her way to the door, she stopped and turned to Hyde. “I hope she makes you happy, but just so you know you’ll never be as happy as you were with me.” She walked out slamming the door behind her.

Donna sighed, rubbing her forehead. “I’m going to go after her.”

“Donna!” Jackie said. “You can’t go out after her. You need to stay here and comfort me!”

“Yeah, no,” Donna snapped. “I’m going after her because she needs me. Why don’t you have Hyde comfort you?”

“Okay, fine, but if you go after her, our friendship is over!” Donna stopped and stared her with bewilderment. “So, who’s it going to be?”

Donna didn’t need to think. “Bye.”

“Let me go with you,” Hyde said. “I need to make this right.”

“STEVEN!” Jackie screamed.

“No, you’ve done enough,” Donna snapped, putting her hand out to stop him. “Just—just stay here.”

With that, she walked out the door, leaving a guilt-ridden Steven Hyde behind. It was in that moment that he knew he’d never see her again; and that alone broke his heart.

I hope you’re happy, but don’t be happier.

#stevenhydeedit #that 70s show #that 70's show fanfic #fanfic #jackie x hyde #jackie burkhart

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blissfulalchemist · 1 year

Note

❛ i want to see your true face. ❜ whoever you’re feeling!

Sooooo I couldn't put the exact prompt in this but it does have the vibes I hope as I really did write this with the intention to put the exact phrasing in there but it just didn’t work out as such. but I do hope you’re able to enjoy a little Anthea and Hythlodaeus!

spoiler warning for Endwalker things, no other warnings needed other then them being sweet and cute.

word count: 5k

“Anthea,” Hythlodaeus begins, “I’ve been curious about something.” They look up, giving a small tilt of their head, “Why don’t you feel comfortable taking your mask off?” Anthea touches the smooth mask frowning, “I’m not saying that you have to, I would never dream of forcing such a thing on you, I just don’t believe I’ve ever seen you without it.”

“Oh, I guess I just start to forget that I even have it on.” They let their fingers trace along the edges, “I don’t mean to disrespect you or hurt your feelings in any way.”

“You haven’t,” he says with a smile that shines ever more bright in the late afternoon sun, “I feel we’ve known each other for quite awhile and I guess I just assumed that you would have felt comfortable enough to take your mask off around me.”

They pull their knees up, hugging them to their chest, “I do. I would. I just,” Anthea hums a moment, eyes staring off the edge of the Twelve Wonders, “well I don’t think I’ve ever removed it for anyone beyond my parents or for identification.” Anthea gives a light laugh, glancing back over at Hythlodaeus, “It’s not like I hang around that many people outside of work, so there isn’t too much of a point is there.”

“I guess you’re right,” he moves closer, watching to see if they shift unconsciously like they have before, which doesn’t happen, Anthea staying in place, making him smile. “You said that you forget that you have it on at times, do you believe it to be something that is so integral to who you are that it feels natural?”

“I-. Huh,” they hum, eyes fixating on the green grass below them, “I’m not sure.” Anthea looks up once again, “I would assume as much.”

“Would you like to try and see if it is?”

“How would we determine if it feels natural when the first instinct is to quickly put it back on?”

He chuckles with a shake of his head, “You make a very good point.” He taps the side of his head three times before his face lights up once more, “We shall give it five minutes.”

Anthea’s brow furrows, “Five minutes? That doesn’t seem like a lot of time?”

“It will feel a lot longer if it makes you that uncomfortable. If by the time five minutes is up and you wish to have your mask back on then you are more than welcome to do so.”

“But only if I agree?”

“Of course, my darling,” he moves closer, fingertips lightly holding onto the mask, Anthea’s hands placing themselves over his, “I just wish to see the face that belongs to a color I hold so dear.”

Gently he lifts the mask away from them, Anthea hanging their head as the light breeze tickles their cheeks. Hythlodaeus sets the mask aside, smiling as he watches them shake their hair out, their smile meek. Anthea’s cheeks never lose the tinge of pink he thought came from the initial chill and doesn’t match the red he can see start to sneak up their neck. Still they keep their head down and he finds himself gently laying a hand on their face, thumb caressing Anthea’s cheekbone as he tilts their face to his. He can’t help but laugh softly when their eyes still remain cast down. Their pale skin is so soft against his, their dark teal hair falling into eyes that he assumed would be bigger, but possible their long eyelashes will create such an illusion once open….and he wants nothing more than to bring his lips to theirs.

He finds himself stopping when Anthea finally opens their eyes revealing them to be so pale a grey he has to blink a few times to make sure the light hasn’t washed away any other color. Anthea looks up at him with a fading smile, eyes growing bigger the longer Hythlodaeus stays silent. “For such a bright color of a soul,” he begins softly, “your eyes were the last thing I could have imagined to be lacking in color.”

“O-oh, I um, is-is that a bad thing? Not what you imagined,” Or wanted I’m sure.

“Quite the opposite really. You’re absolutely fascinating, Anthea,” his other hand joins in cupping their face, “You never cease to surprise me and I look forward to the next one.”

They can feel the heat rushing to their cheeks, wanting to turn away but stuck in his eyes and the way he moves closer to them. Their eyes close at the same time and Anthea can feel their heart pound away with each millisecond his skin is in contact with theirs. His breath against their lips, space between them closing until….

….Slowly, tentatively, and all at once their lips meet for the first time….

He crosses his arms leaning against the wooden light pole, smiling as he watches Ellen set up the flower stand with the other botanists. Her smile bright, laughter music, her grey eyes shining against her sun kissed skin, and shoulder length aquamarine hair blowing in the wind, a color that complements her sapphire soul making it shine brighter than the dark teal he had once known her to have bringing out the green undertones. It’s the only confirmation he has to know that she was once the love of his life, that distinct color he swears he had never seen anywhere else, one he had memorized and studied long before he memorized the subtle blues of their eyes, I wonder if I’ll still find those same colors in your eyes Ellen. He looks down at the ground with a sigh, still warring over if he should attempt to awaken Ellen’s memories to when she was Anthea.

Hythldaeus didn’t need the memory stones according to Emet-Selch, but there was one still out there for her, with the Warrior of Light, along with the one made for him. Emet had told him the tale of how Artemis awoke the memories of his beloved Gaia without one, but there were costs that could come with it, for Gaia it was the continual loss of her memories, from those of before the Final Days and any in her current life. So the question became one of him being selfish enough to try when, as Ellen, she seemed so much happier and livelier, unknowing if they would be able to hold the burden of their past. Not to mention the answer to whether or not they would even still feel the same way about him, or did his sacrifice cause a permanent rift between them. He’s still sure that Anthea was upset with him, would want little to do with him, had only stayed all those years on the moon for Venat, and that his message he requested of the Warrior was lost on them.

He looks back up with a sigh, starting to pull up the hood of his cloak to cast bigger shadows over the half mask he wears to hide the three lined scar across his right eye, a habit of who he was before the Final Days struck the star once again. He’s checking once more that his black hair isn’t going to impair his vision when a bright orange tinted hue catches his peripherals. Hythlodaeus turns quickly to see a face that is recognizable beyond the talks and legends of his deeds, the face of this shard of his old friend’s soul, the famed Warrior of Light Demos. He’s still dressed in the signature dark forest green from the two times they first met and looking much more at ease among those he’s grown up with assisting with some crates brought from the blacksmiths of Thavnair if Hythlodaeus remembers correctly. He’s just saying goodbye, readying to move onto the next set of individuals that will no doubt ask for his help and he will in turn no doubt accept, when Hythlodaeus approaches him. Demos’ lilac eyes pass over him even when he waves to signal his approach.

“Hello my new old friend,” Hythlodaeus says when he gets close enough, Demos stopping in his tracks. The warrior turns slowly with a furrowed brow, “It is lovely to see you again.”

“Do-. Do I know you?” He asks, eyes looking up and down Hythlodaeus, “If we’ve met before I’m sorry if I can’t remember your name. I’m better with faces.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it with the artistic skills I was told you possess.” Demos still looks at him confused, “Oh! Right the mask, I apologize, but I’m afraid it will be of no help to you, my friend, we have not met while in this form,” He chuckles, a loose fist placed in front of his mouth, “Or at least from what I can recall.”

“Not while in this-,” he repeats softly, eyes getting bigger as the pieces fall, “Hyth-Hythlosaeus? Is that really you?”

“It is indeed. Did I not tell you that we would meet again under much better circumstances.”

The warrior laughs, crossing his arms, “I believe you said that you hoped we would.” He shakes his head, brow furrowing, “Wait how-how did you get your memories back? Did Emet-?”

“No. They came back when the sky darkened for a brief moment and the towers appeared.” Demos nods solemnly, “It seems it was a big enough trigger to bring such things back.”

“So how did you get here of all places,” Demos smirks, crossing his arms, “Did you come looking for me?”

He laughs, “No, meeting you here was merely a happy coincidence.”

“Then how?” He gestures to the Ishgardian crest that pins his cloak together in the front, “Seems like you didn’t live here your whole life.”

“Ah, right,” Hythlodaeus traces the edges of the clasp, “I was traveling through Coerthas, sent to assist in the efforts of rebuilding parts of Gyr Abania when it all happened. Seems that while I lost most of my creation magics they instead manifested in various forms of carpentry. I actually came here in search of….,” he glances back over at the stand where he sees Ellen handing a small corsage to a little girl bringing a smile to his face.

Demos glances over, giving Hytholdaeus a soft smile, “You came in search of Anthea.” He nods with a sheepish smile as he looks away, “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised that it would be Ellen of all people.”

“Seems I was correct in that Anthea’s love for plants stayed with their soul.”

“It sure did,” Demos chuckles, “You know when I was younger and wasn’t inclined to learn the business side of blacksmithing I would climb the trees, trying to draw the leaves better, and once I got too focused and fell out of the tree right into her freshly sprouted carrots I think it was. She would not let me hear the end of it.” The two laugh, “More so when she was ‘hired’ to be my babysitter whenever we visited Gridania until I was twelve I believe.”

“Anthea got that way once when some creature or another decided to make a meal of something they just created,” he chuckles at the memory, “and I made the mistake of agreeing to watch it while its assigned researcher rounded up the others.”

“And let me guess, you had to go somewhere for all of five minutes?”

“Twas not my intention to make them a babysitter. It was adorable seeing them huff the entire time.”

Demos takes in the way that Hythlodaeus gazes at Ellen with a sad smile, “So why are you over here and not there?”

“She doesn’t remember her time as Anthea. If I’m being honest she is much different than the Anthea I once knew, much like you are nothing like the Azem I knew.”

“And so you don’t feel the same way about Ellen as you do for Anthea?”

He shakes his head, “No. Quite the opposite. I ended up falling in love with her.” He lets out a sigh, smiling, “I love Ellen, Demos, and because of that I can’t bring myself to potentially awaken those memories.” He faces Demos once more with eyes cast down, “They spent thousands upon thousands of years all alone on that moon. I left them to save the star. They may never want to see me again if I remind them of how much pain they’ve endured.”

Demos looks down at his hip to the journal he found among his things that contained some of his time on Elpis. “Do you remember when you asked me to show the Elpis flower to them back on the moon?”

“Yes. I asked you to show them the color it became when you thought about love.”

“Yeah, and they immediately asked if I had seen you. If it was you that had me show them the flower. When I said yes they spoke much happier and it was how we even knew to find out more about the past.”

Hythlodaeus smiles, “That is a comfort, I will admit.” The two look over at Ellen who waves excitedly when their eyes meet going back to work, “Still there is the question on how their life will change once they remember. I seem to be the one that didn’t have many connections in this life, but Ellen as you can see has a life here.”

“One that you could easily become a part of,” Demos points out, catching how Ellen glances at Hythlodaeus before turning away with a blush, “I think she likes you too.”

“What!” He says, taking a step back, “I-. I was not-. She-.”

“I can see her looking at you, trying to act like she’s busy.” He laughs as Hythlodaeus’ mouth falls open, “Look you said it yourself, you love Ellen too, so why not just focus on that? You have a chance to live out a full life with them, so don’t let it go to waste.”

“Have you heard nothing of what I just said? It's a little more complicated, my friend.”

“All I hear is how you’re scared to take a chance,” he nudges him towards the flower stand, “So take it from someone that was scared once also and ask her before it's too late.” Hythlodaeus sighs, shoulders hanging, “Come on. I’ll even go with you.” Before he has a moment to protest Demos grabs his arm dragging him towards Ellen, who’s smile brightens seeing them approach.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Demos Reyes,” she says with a laugh, hands on her hips, “Come to study your flowers again now that you’ve saved the world?��

“I’ve moved beyond flowers at this point, Ellen,” he says with a laugh, “But if you got any new ones for me I’d consider it.”

She shakes her head, “He would ‘consider it’. Do you hear this man Heath?” Ellen crosses her arms with a smirk, “Can’t believe you think you’re too good for my flowers. You know I was thinking about selling this.” She pulls out a battered journal, “How much do you think the first ever completed journal of sketches done by the Warrior of Light would sell for?”

“You kept that?”

“Of course I did, you gave it to me as a gift,” she flips it open to the first page, “You even wrote a nice little note in here.”

Demos’ smile quickly dissipates, “Did I?”

She nods, “Oh yes. Here let me refresh your memory.” Ellen clears her throat, “My dearest Ellen. Never before have I witnessed-.”

Demos lunges for the book, Ellen evading him with ease, “I think that’s enough.”

“Oh no,” Hythlodaeus says with a chuckle, “Please do continue.”

“Gladly. Never before have I witnessed such beauty than the musical sound of your laughter. To see the way you arrange such colors as you tell me about each flower fills my heart-.”

“Please stop,” Demos tries again, Ellen holding the book above her head.

“Fills my heart with such joy that I must try,” she laughs, jumping to try and avoid him, Hythlodaeus taking it from her hand holding it higher.

“Oh not you too!” His fingertips just brush the edges of the journal, “Look I was twelve! Ellen please.”

She giggles, putting her hand out, “Come on Heath, I’ll show it to you later.”

“You know speaking of Heath, I originally came here because he,” Demos takes a step back pushing a wide eyes Hythlodaeus forward, “wanted to ask you something.”

“Is this true,” she asks looking at him adoringly, blush forming, “Do you have something to ask me?”

He takes a deep breath, nodding, “Uh, I was uhm, wondering-,” he clears his throat, “I was just wondering what you have special for the festival today?”

“Oh, right,” she says, her smile falling causing Hytholdaeus’ breath to catch as Demos shakes his head, suppressing a groan. “Well I….,” she starts to look around the stand catching sight of the heartbloom hidden among the woven baskets, her smile returning, “I actually have something special to show you. But!” She says a curiosity coming to mind, “Only if I get to see you without that mask for once.”

His fingertips trace along the edges, heart beating faster, “I-. I don’t know about that.”

“Just for a little bit?”

“Why are you so curious now?”

She looks down, hands clasped in front of her, “Well I always have been, I’ve never seen you without it, but I was also thinking maybe we-.” She shakes her head, giggling, “Never mind. Just uh forget it. It’s stupid anyways.” She waves the comment off, “You’re just a little odd sometimes you know that?” Ellen leans over the counter grabbing hold of the potted heartbloom.

“I just wish to see the face that belongs to a color I hold so dear.”, The memory pulls at him, breaking his heart knowing they’ve switched roles, and knowing exactly how she feels, “You just simply wish to know the face that belongs to a friend you hold so dear.” Hythlodaeus pushes his hood back, looking down at the ground, “And you should know that I hate to disappoint. Especially you, Ellen.”

She looks up at him, nodding slowly, “Only if you feel comfortable doing so. I-. Well, uhm, you don’t owe me the story behind the mask.”

He smiles, taking the mask off, “Maybe it's about time that I see if it really is a part of me.” She watches as he looks up at her with amethyst eyes that enrapture her and freeze her in place.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall on you. You’re not hurt are you.” “I’m quite fine, so there’s no need to be sorry.”

“You should join me for dinner with some friends. No sense in you eating all by yourself.”

“I-. I don’t want to lose you! Please! Reconsider Hythlodaeus.” “Anthea please understand-.” “I do and that’s what makes this all the harder.”

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen him happier than being with you, Anthea.” “He can’t be that-.” “If I can be frank, Venat and I can almost recite his stories about you. The only one who listens as if it's the first time with each retelling is Deimos.”

“I’ve been asked to become the head of the Bureau of Architecture.” “Meaning you’ll be much too busy to make as many trips out here.” “And you’re busy enough as it is with your work here. I also would never dream of making you stop your work.” “But there are plenty of others that can take my place. Why don’t I move with you to Amaurot?”

“You know there is a possibility that you may never return to him.” “I know, but I owe it to him to fulfill my purpose which I know now is to keep watch until it's time to shepard the sacrificed to the aetherial sea.”

“Demos, this is Anthea, a brilliant researcher and creationist of Elpis.” “I wouldn’t say that, and its former researcher. I’m simply consulting today since you decided to run off from our picnic.” “I shall always try to answer the call of a friend, besides you didn’t even try to stop me.”

“I’ve watched them look over us everyday for thousands upon thousands of years, and I find that of great comfort knowing they’re there safe.”

“Did you happen to encounter Hythlodaeus down there? Of course it would be him, even after all this time he still has his big hopeful heart. I hope to be a part of it again one day.”

“You are full of surprises, and I can’t wait to see the next one.”

“I’ve never met anyone like you. Never met anyone that I feel the most comfortable to be myself around.”

“….I love you….”

Anthea’s breathing stops as the whispered memories of a kiss at the edge of The Twelve Wonders linger on their lips until his purple eyes come back into focus. For a brief moment they no longer see the short black hair of the man before them, but that of the long and braided lavender from the first time they saw his face in that office with the bright glowing white flower between them, just as it is now. Their eyes start to fill with tears as the world shifts back to that of Gridania preparing for one of its festivals, hand slowly reaching for him. They take in the pale skin, black hair, jaw that’s now harsher in its angles, the significant height he now has on them, and the scarring on their right eye that still doesn’t take away from eyes that they would know anywhere.

“Is-? Is it really you, Hythlodaeus?” He smiles, nodding as the tears fill his eyes, Anthea’s breaking free as they wrap their arms around him. “You found me. You found me, my love!”

He buries his face into the crook of their neck, his own tears falling free, “Of course I did. I would never have stopped looking for you.” His arms tighten, Anthea attempting the same despite the flower they hold, tears falling freely as their bodies finally relax into each other. “I had to make sure you were safe.”

“I always will be, now that you’re here.” They pull away first wiping away at their face smiling, “I just can’t believe it still. Of all the ways we could have ended up, out of all the people on the star-.”

“Neither can I, my dear.” He holds onto their face, leaning down for their lips to meet, both smiling as they kiss deeply. Demos looks away, his eye focusing instead on the Elpis flower that begins to shift in color. Swaying between a blue and magenta before settling on a violet color he’d only seen once before, his time on Elpis revealing it the color to be that of sadness and despair. He casts his eyes down, frowning as the color stays and he gathers the words needed to tell them.

“Hythlodaeus,” Anthea says excitedly, “look. It glows. Just like I was hoping it would.”

“Hoping it would?”

“Well I-. I was wanting to show it to you hoping that you would finally get the hint that I-,” they laugh, rubbing the back of their neck, “Guess it doesn’t matter anymore since well-.”

He grabs onto their hand, “But now we get to see it together as we should have been able to all those years ago.”

“So then you think this is-.”

He nods, “What comes from the emotion of love.” He looks up at Demos who begins to shake his head, “Remind me what color had appeared when you showed it to Anthea?”

“It was a pink rose color,” he sighs, “But you should know-.”

Hythldaeus holds his chin, Anthea holding the flower up to his eye level, “Interesting. Have you seen it be a consistent color for the same emotion?”

“Wait-.”

Anthea shakes their head, “No. In fact this was just a fluke that I was even able to grow it. Heartblooms are rare flowers.”

“How did you come across it?”

“Guys I have-.”

Anthea hums, “I traded with a Gleaner, long time ago. They claimed to have all these seeds they knew nothing about and so I got curious. I didn’t know what any of them would be either, so I planted a new one every month. Some were roses, carnations, lilies-.”

“And then your Elpis flower. Which has me curious just how much is known about dyn-.”

“Hey!” Demos says a little more forcefully, the two finally looking back his way, “You both should know that I know what that color means. I’ve seen it once before.” The couple nod, facing him, “It represents sadness and despair, not love. I’m-. I’m sorry.”

Anthea and Hythlodaeus look down at the glowing flower, faces losing any emotion on them. Anthea is the first to look back over at Demos with a furrowed brow, “Well see now that doesn’t make any sense. I’m certainly not feeling anything close to sad. Are you?” Hythlodaeus shakes his head, “So that just leaves you Demos and well it's two of us feeling the opposite so unless you’re that down, in which case we need to get you help right away, you can’t be affecting it.”

“Should we be concerned for your well being Demos,” Hythlodaeus asks.

The warrior shakes his head, “Uh, no? I’ve-. I’ve been doing pretty good since coming back home.”

“I’m very glad to hear that,” he smiles before his attention focuses back on Anthea, “But, Anthea, that does mean it's something else for you to look into,” Hythlodaeus says, “Well if you wanted to return to being a researcher. Guess that could have changed considering-.”

“I do still have a bit of an interest in such things. It’s just a bit harder to do.”

“Ah I see.”

Demos clears his throat, “Did you ever want to maybe visit Old Shaylan? They have a ton of research there.”

Their eyes grow wide, “That-. Well it’s- it's similar to the Anamnesis Anyder, correct?”

He shrugs, “I guess something like that. Would you want me to-?”

“Yes!” They exclaim before clearing their throat looking down at the ground, Hythlodaeus hiding his laughter, “I mean, uhm, that would be kind of you, yes.”

“Be my honor and pleasure. I’ll let you know, when I find out,” he smiles, taking a step back, “In the meantime I’ll just uh give you guys some space.” The two of them have already turned back engaging in conversation so quickly and animatedly that the only thing Demos picks out is Anthea asking Hythlodaeus if he said his name was Heath because he almost told Ellen his real name. He backs away, taking out his journal and flipping to the sketch from when the three of them sat and watched as Emet helped with the charybdis, smiling as he looks back up at them to see the similarities despite their bodies being completely new. The way Hythlodaeus always tries to look polite in his laughter, the way Anthea always has a blush to their cheeks, his smile still having this sneakiness that Demos couldn’t ever hope to capture fully, and the gentle way that Anthea looks at the individual pet-.

He winces hearing the loud ringing in his ears, clutching onto the nearest thing to balance himself as he starts to look through the eyes of another.

“Over here my friend!” He hears his friend, Hythlodaeus, call out, waving to the soft spot of grass they frequent whenever he visits Elpis. He smiles, waving back, hiking the bag on his shoulder just a bit higher. Anthea smiles and shifts to make a little more room for him on the grass making Hythlodaeus sit up against them more. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“I come bearing gifts!” He says letting the wind blow off his black hood and blonde hair into his eyes. He settles himself with a groan, shaking his hair out once the mask of the Convocation is removed, “I figured you of all people should bear witness to the success of my latest endeavor.”

“No need to thank me, Deimos, it was no trouble for a dear friend.”

He laughs, “Well I doubt you’ll be saying that once you get your lecture. Emet-Selch had much to say on the matter to me.”

“As if that should be much of a surprise to you at this point,” Anthea says with a giggle, fingers starting to run through Hythlodaeus’ lavender hair, “but he sure did make it clear he did not approve of your actions my love.” Hythlodaeus gives her a small shrug in response.

“He will soon get over it, for even he can’t deny that it was a very clever plan.” He pulls out the plans for the Ifrit, handing them over, “Still, best to put this back as soon as you can.”

Anthea sighs, smile never leaving their face, tapping him and Hythlodaeus lightly with the rolled up schematics, “You two need to stop encouraging each other one of these days.”

He laughs pulling out the small container of fruit, “Awww Thea, where's the fun in that?” They roll their eyes, “Besides if I hadn’t then I wouldn’t have been able to get you these,” he hands over the tied bundle of flowers to Anthea, “I made sure to keep the stems long since I hear you’ve been practicing and coming up with new methods.”

“Well see now I forgive you and have ample incentive to defend you,” they give a small tap to Hythlodaeus who sits up letting Anthea settle with the flowers in front of them. They begin to braid the stems inspecting each bloom intently, all the while he and Hythlodaeus share in the food waiting for the inevitable handmade flower crowns discussing the finer details of this act of heroism.

Demos rubs his temples, inhaling deeply, steadying himself as the world shifts back to one he’s always known, the ringing long gone and replaced by the idle chatter of Gridania. He looks up to watch as the couple walk away hand in hand, Anthea’s head resting on his arm. Smiling he whispers, “See you soon my old new friends.”

#I just love them so much.....#like you don't even know how much room they decided to take up in my brain #hythlodaeus #hythlodaeusxoc #ffxiv #x: as long as you exist #the written word #we also say no to banners because I want to get this out there

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heartofspells · 1 year

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I’m in withdrawal of HE James and Sirius, I’m so desperate for a lil snippet of some James and Sirius friendship with some angst in there but I’m struggling to think of something you haven’t already done, is there anything you can think of from HE? 💘💘💘💘💘💘

Oh, hello. I like you very much. James and Sirius in almost any universe are sublime and one of my favorite things, but there's something special about them in HE and I'm so happy someone else pines for them the way I do. And I've got the perfect thing for you.

Another outtake from At the Healing Edge of Broken, taking place roughly five months after the end of the main story. Enjoy! <3

"Christ," exhales Sirius just to express his complete unhappiness before he falls backwards across the end of his bed. It bounces and shudders beside him a moment later, James' warmth pressing along his side as his friend collapses. Sirius squints acerbically at the ceiling. "This is the reason I'll never have kids," he grumbles.

"Oh, really?" demands James in exasperation, hand flailing between them, but the motion is weak, exhausted. "This is the deciding factor, is it? This situation and only this?"

"…yes." But Sirius pouts. "All right, well. Possibly there are other reasons and possibly that's not a reason at all."

"And possibly you're full of shit," finishes James mulishly.

"Possibly," agrees Sirius, huffing out a frustrated breath, still glaring at the ceiling. "You'd think she'd figure it out at some point, that we're no good at this bath business. Evans. She's bright. Harry does us in every time. Personally, I think she's watching our every move through a camera and laughing herself to a stroke every night we try."

James groans, throwing his hands over his face. "She's my wife, Padfoot," he moans, pulling a grin from Sirius. "We're still married. Will you ever stop with the Evans?"

"Possibly not."

"Possibly not," echoes James, his hands falling with a hollow sort of thump to his chest. "Right. Fucking hell, you're the worst."

"I have the love letters from you that prove that's a lie," tosses out Sirius, snickering when James grunts, but Sirius' amusement fades quickly as his body sags over the mattress and he's reminded of how tired he is. "Christ, I still have so much to do and now I've spent two hours wrestling a kid into bath and bed. I don't want to do any of it."

"Where's the rush?" levels James, a weight Sirius doesn't want to look too closely at inside his words. "Is the flat going anywhere? Is he?"

"No," denies Sirius quickly. "No, 'course not. It's just…"

He sighs, trailing off, his eyes shifting around what he can see of the room he's occupied longer than he's ever occupied anywhere in his life that's mattered at all. The walls are mostly bare now, only a few odd things still hanging that he needs to remove. Boxes tower in small, haphazard stacks, scattered around the space, some of them already gone, filled with the least necessary of things, moved weeks earlier when the process had first started.

"Padfoot," says James quietly, calmly. Sirius twitches with it, can feel his friend's hazel eyes burning into the side of his face. "It's okay to be scared, you know?"

"I'm not scared," pushes out Sirius gruffly, words quick and sharp.

"Okay." James doesn't shift his gaze away, and Sirius exhales a slow, stuttering breath, finally turning to look at the other man, James' mouth quirking up into a small smile.

"I'm not scared," repeats Sirius firmly, James nodding like he understands, and Sirius thinks he probably does. "I'm not, but it's hard to imagine not being here more often than I am. How does that work, Prongs?"

James stares at him in contemplative silence for a minute before he says, "I'm not sure, Pads, but we'll figure it out. Same as we always do, yeah? If this is what you want, we'll navigate. No one's been able to tear us apart for over sixteen years. We're not going to let something as silly as you finally deciding to grow the fuck up do it now."

Sirius releases a scoffing sound, kicking out gently with his foot, connecting with James' ankle. "Piss off, Potter," he mutters, turning his head to hide his smile as James cackles beside him, shaking the bed beneath their combined weights.

They lay together for a while, the sounds of James' laughter tapering off slowly, the pair settling with one another just as easily as they always have.

"Is this what you want?" asks James eventually once the silence has stretched on for an indeterminable amount of time. Sirius doesn't answer immediately, and James is staring at him again. "Sirius," prompts James plaintively, the heaviness returning to his voice.

Gaze locked on the ceiling, Sirius swallows thickly. "Yes," he whispers. "Why would you ask me that?"

"I dunno. Feels important. I know you love him, and I know he loves you," begins James, Sirius' ears catching the sound of his head turning over the blanket under them, "but this – well, it happened sort of fast, didn't it? You two weren't exactly stable. Not even together. There were…things. Stuff to work through. And then you were dealing with the aftermath of Gideon again and leaving the Association. All those fights to get away. And once you did…it was like peace, I know, but less than a month after it all settled, the dust still thick in the air, you're coming in one night and telling us you've both decided it's time to live together. You can't blame me for checking, Sirius."

"S'pose I can't, no," agrees Sirius, voice still low, but he sighs heavily, his chest falling slowly with the release. "You're right, I do love him. I tried not to, for a while, when I thought it was important. When I thought it mattered. When I didn't understand and thought I couldn't forgive him, but I – trying didn't change anything. It didn't change who he was or is, everything he's ever been to me since the first day I met him. Both first days." Sirius turns his head, finally looking at James again, holding his gaze, James' dark brow furrowed as he listens intently. "I'm not sure when it exactly happened, but at some point, I looked at him and realized we've always been a bit inevitable, James. And that, along with everything else – who he is, the things he does, how he makes me feel even on my worst days – that's how I know this is what I want, and that it's so bloody right I wouldn't survive without it. Without him."

James doesn't say anything for so long that Sirius begins to fidget restlessly where he rests. His friend's expression is unreadable, such a rarity for Sirius that it increases the discomfort inside him even as he remains stoic on the outside. And then James' face is crumbling a little, cracks forming and then shattering as emotion surges out of him, a happy melancholy overtaking him.

"I'm gonna miss you," he whispers thickly, throat clogged, and Sirius crumbles with him.

He nods once, then again, the motion of his head and neck a jerking thing, a spasm racing through his body. His breathing shudders in his chest as he tries to fight against himself, but it's no use and Sirius knows it's pointless. He rolls onto his side, towards James, his friend meeting him halfway as they envelope one another in familiar arms, burying themselves into shoulders and each other the same as they have since they were kids and didn't know enough to care how it looked, not caring even once they did.

"Me too," chokes out Sirius into James' neck, and James laughs, a strangled sound as it leaves him, his grip around Sirius' back tightening. "Me too, Prongs."

#at the healing edge of broken #sirius black #james potter #sirius black and james potter #bros through the woes #please no one kick me off tumblr for that tag #outtake #anon asks #ask #answer #lovely anons #post in the toast #my writing #holli writes

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autumn-oceanopromises · 2 years

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13/7/22 - “Lu Zhai”

It’s 11pm on a Wednesday evening. I’m hunched over, playing video games, an addiction I haven’t been able to shake off for twenty years. One, in particular, I’ve played on and off for nearly a decade. I lost a serious relationship at least in part to this game. I’ve lost days, to be immersed in video games. To play just one more game. I’ve lied to keep my video game time. I’ve lost money, friendships, and mental health to fuel my addiction. I’ve quit, but I’ve backslid. I’m a gamer. I’m a video game addict. It’s part of how I identify myself, both to other gamers, and to myself drinking alone at night.

A friend messages me on Discord. In a lull moment, I check it. He asks me, “Have you heard of the poem Lu Zhai, by Wang Wei?” I go back to my game, but I’m no longer immersed. I’m thinking about it now. I’m curious.

One week ago, I was challenged by Stephen Kotler, by reading his book, to list twenty-five things I was curious about. I struggled. Over twenty years of searching up guides for video games, I’ve stopped being curious about topics and started looking for direct answers. I've craved the endings of narratives, instead of living the experience to get to them.

I carry on a conversation with my friend in lulls. In-game, I’m more aggressive than usual, attempting to make hero plays so that I can get to a lull sooner, rather than later. As far as my friend is aware, I return to his messages within minutes, rather than the half hours that he’s more used to.

“I have, yes,” I say. I have. Lu Zhai is a poem that I dimly remember browsing over, while looking up obscure poetry forms in Ancient China, one of the entries I finally wrote down on my ‘twenty-five curiosities’ list. But I’m curious about more than this. My friend is a narrator, and a sound editor. He’s also Italian-Canadian. I wonder where he heard of Lu Zhai, and what he intends to do with it.

“Why do you ask? There’s like, 13 translations of it,” I type out, seconds before my game resumes. Even as I’m speeding through the narrow gap between virtual, brightly flashing projectiles, I’m thinking about Lu Zhai. Something about that poem captured the attention of poets and translators, both solo and in duos, thirteen times. I’m a poet. It’s another of the ways I define myself. I speak - if poorly - the language Lu Zhai was written in. I’m immersed in that culture, but I write my poetry in English.

The game starts to drag. Normally, time passes very quickly in-game for me, but at this point I’m thinking more about Lu Zhai, sounding the words out loud, reading it aloud to myself. There is something captivating about the simplicity of this poem, something profound. It throws me into its rhythm, into its imagery. Five words, four lines. Twenty words in total, but there are thirteen very different interpretations in English. Fourteen, if you count the literal.

I’m dying stupidly in-game so the chat is filled with insults, but I’m already on the empty mountain mentioned in Lu Zhai. I’m inside the fog-outlined forest looking up at the moss. Explosions and screeches abound in my ears, but I’m already listening for the voices that Wang Wei mentions. The game brings up its “Defeat” screen, but I’ve already clicked away from it. Normally I’d go onto the next game, but I want to shape the images I feel into words more.

My friend sends me the video essay he was watching, that mentioned it: “A Thousand Ways of Seeing The Forest.” Someone’s taken a stab at translating the poem in the comments. There are 1.4K likes.

I take a stab at it, myself, and immediately run into three snags. Firstly, the title can be translated into a hookup joke - “Deer Tinder...”, which gives the entire verse a whole new context. Secondly, there is a shape to the original that isn’t ever described in any of the translations; the word for person goes, then returns in a direction. Thirdly, translating this poem is hard. It’s simple, it’s incredibly evocative, but while there are words that can mean nothing else (”voices”, “empty mountain”, “forest”, “moss”), everything else is context-dependent. I wonder how many of those translation teams, or poets, looked at a previous translation and thought - “That can’t be right.”

I’m right here, I’m in the moment, I’m immersed. I’m crafting something, making something, I’m shaping the words that come to me to try to match the shape of the poem that birthed them. I’m only eighty percent satisfied with the end result, but I send the poem to my friend anyway, including the stupid Tinder joke. Regardless, he asks if I would voice the original, because he’s been inspired to organize voice actors into reading the translations, one narrator per version.

I agree. I close my game’s launcher. I’m curious, and I’m immersed. I watch the video essay, now, experiencing the ways that other people have seen forests, and video games, although a part of me is still in Wang Wei’s Deer Forest, watching sunlight on moss, listening for returning voices on an empty mountain.

#spilled ink #spilled prose #13/7/22 #homework for life #storyworthy #picture from https://www.ccclux.lu/lectures-seminars/137-thirteen-translations-of-lu-zhai-a-poem-by-wang-wei

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jackwwriting · 2 years

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Let Me Be Your Leccy Meter

I can’t stop thinking about how he would feel inside me. It’s absurd. The very thought of it drifts way past the realms of possibility and potential and yet I catch momentary glimpses of a universe where not only is it a possibility but it’s a reality. It’s a universe where he’s acted on his desires and I’ve acted on mine and we rip each other’s clothes off and our bodies intertwine. It’s beautiful but it’s not loving. It’s grotesque. It’s raw. It’s animalistic. It’s all I’ve got on my mind.

I sit now, in a taxi on the way home. I haven’t seen him in just over twenty minutes and I can still feel the pressure he put into the hug as we parted. At the moment, I didn’t consider the absurdity of a hug between friends and the fact that I’d never hugged any of my other friends when we say goodbye but I’ve never wanted to.

As we’re gliding past the clubs and the kebab shops, I’m trying to rationalize in my head whether or not it’s merely a physical desire or if there’s a want for more than that. Thinking back on previous infatuations, they’ve been temporary. A simple wank has, for the most part, sent them on their way. Yet this one is different. This one is him.

The Next Day…

It’s a Thursday night. I suggested that we meet on a Friday but he had plans, and when I suggested the weekend he said that he was busy with his various hobbies. That’s when I opted for the week following but he said he wouldn’t be able to wait another week without taking me out and so we compromised and agreed to meet on Thursday night.

Originally we were supposed to meet at six o’clock but I realised at about five o’clock that I was far behind schedule and that there is no way that I would be ready for six because the seismic meltdown about timings has just taken up half an hour and I have so much to do. He says that we can meet whenever I’m ready and I tell him to get here at seven and that worst-case scenario he can come up and have a beer whilst I finish getting ready.

I’m ready at quarter to five, consistent in my incapability to judge timings. I message him and tell him that I’m an idiot and I’m ready now and ask if there’s any way that we’d be able to meet before seven o’clock and that I’ll buy the first drink to make up for it.

My doorbell rings before he texts me back. I answer it to see him standing there wearing a white shirt with the top three buttons undone which match the pair of overly skinny black trousers that he’s chosen. He looks like a fuckboy, something which I will point out several times throughout the night and something that he will, himself, start to mock.

He explains that he knows me well enough now to know that despite my worrying about being late, I’m usually early.

I invite him into the flat, and he says that he shouldn’t because I’ve just got dressed and it’d be a shame to take the clothes off so soon after I’ve put them on. I chuckle awkwardly and pretend like I’m shocked by the forwardness but in reality, I’m resisting the urge to pull him into the flat and rip the jeans off in a demonstration of my oral capabilities.

We make our way down the corridor toward the lift, and whilst we’re waiting there’s an awkward silence which he fills with a joke. “It’s funny how we weight for the lift, but we can’t lift the weight,” he says and I laugh, making it clear that it’s directed at him and not at the ridiculously unfunny joke.

As we step in the lift, he makes a comment about how I’m so mean to him but he knows I love him really. “Love? This is the first date, you’re moving very fast for someone who wouldn’t even come into the flat,” I feel very nervous after saying this. The large red wine and can of dark fruit I drank whilst getting ready is stressing me out, the opposite of the desired effect.

The journey in the lift takes longer than it ever has before. I’m enjoying his smell. It’s a predictable blend of cedarwood with a hint of orange. I’m finding it intoxicating but irresistible.

I lean over to him and kiss him on the lips. He puts his hand on the small of my back as we kiss and the other on my cheek. The kissing started as awkward but now it’s passionate. It’s as though we’ve both stepped onto this dance floor together before and we’re pros at the tango.

The lift announces that we’re at the ground floor and we both pull away from each other with grins on our faces. I’m hard. I have to resist the urge to suggest going back up to the flat, because he isn’t just a fuck. He’s more than that.

Walking outside, I notice that his face is flushed. “I think I need a cigarette,” he says as his voice cracks. It’s adorable. He pulls out a packet of cigarettes and offers me on. I place it between my lips and he lights it for me, before even touching his own. I thank him, he lights his own cigarette, and we start walking.

He starts to tell me an anecdote about where we are, something about being drunk and ‘an absolute state’. He says that I’d really get on with his mates and that he’ll let me know next time they all go to the pub and I can come down for a few. There’s something about him planning future plans involving me and other people within his life that makes me feel warm.

I thank him and I see him grin before saying “Unless tonight goes awful, I mean.” I know he means it as a joke but my stomach flips in that moment. I swallow, hard. He laughs and I’m settled again.

We’re approaching the cinema now, and I’m getting nervous. It’s not nerves about the date or anything like that, it’s just my typical fear that this film I’ve waited for ages to see is going to disappoint me.

“If this is shit, I’ll kill myself,” I say and he laughs. He’s shocked at my comment, we’ve never talked about mental health before but I suppose I’ve got to soft lauch my crazy.

“You’re joking, right?” he has an awkward half smile on his face and his teeth are slightly showing and his eyebrows are curled.

“Yeah, yeah,” I say, “mostly.”

He has his arm around me as we walk up to the cinema. “Do you want sweet or salted?” he asks me.

“It’s got to be sweet, surely?” I reply. His face immediately looks disappointed.

“I don’t know if it’s worth even staying out! Sweet popcorn?! You’ve got to be joking,” he says. “I’ll just get us a mix of both and that way we’ll both be equally as disappointed.”

Once he’s paid for the tickets, the popcorn, and the drinks, we make our way into the screen and we find out seats. He lets me sit on the end because he already know I don’t like stranger’s elbows touching me in the cinema, but once he sits down, he mockingly hits my elbow with his.

Throughout the trailer, we both provide short descriptions of whether we want to see the films and if we both want to see the same one then he enthusiastically exclaims, “we’ve got to go together, when is it out again?”

Once the lights go down, he places his hand on the inside of my leg. From my previous experiences with me, I expect it to slowly creep further up towards my cock but instead he just strokes my leg for the first half of the film. I feel slightly like a dog, but my leg feels fuzzy and warm so I’ll allow it.

The middle act of the film drags and I get sleepy, so I put my head on his shoulder and curl up in my chair. He puts his arm around me and kisses my head. It invigorates me. I stay in that position for the rest of the film and everytime he gets scared and jumps, he quickly apologises and asks if I’m alright. I feel nestled. I’m a puppy, swathed in blankets, and getting pampered. I’m in my element.

The film ends and we discuss our thoughts on the way out of the screen. I feel very strongly one way or another and he says that he agrees but he points out errors and things he didn’t like.

We get outside and he immediately pulls out two cigarettes for the walk back to the car. I ask if he’s sure, because I have my own and I don’t want him to run out of cigarettes. He tells me to stop being stupid and take the cigarette.

I finish my cigarette first, and he comments on how quickly I can smoke. I explain that it’s because I’ve always only had five minutes for smoke breaks at work, and I don’t like to take the piss with it. He laughs and says that if he’s having a smoke, it’s taking him as long as it takes.

We arrive at the car and it’s a lot cleaner than the last time I saw it. He’s taken the effort to have it cleaned and I assume that it’s for the date, I’m flattered but I don’t say anything to save myself the humiliation.

It’s a ten minute drive to his, and I have the pleasure of hearing him sing along to every word 505 by Arctic Monkeys and Brutal by Olivia Rodrigo. It’s an eclectic duology, and I mention this to him and he explains that he likes the poetic contrast between the two songs. There’s something beautiful in the way that he explains it.

It’s an untapped innocence and intelligence that I’d never considered in relation to him before. I like it. He speaks about his favourite songs with such passion that it’s sexy. It’s only slightly frightening when he takes his hands off of the steering wheel to gesture.

We arrive at his house and it’s modest. It’s a four bedroom terraced house with a white exterior and an ugly colorful door. He says that he’s glad to have the driveway because parking around this area is an absolute bitch. I make some sort of comment in agreement despite having never driven for a day in my life.

“I’ve told my housemates to fuck off for the night, so we’ve got the place to ourselves,” he explains as he puts the key in the door. I almost feel a pressure to put out when he says this, but then I remember how badly I want him and the feeling passes almost immediately.

Once I’ve stepped within the house, he grabs my waist and pulls me toward him. I can feel the protrusion from his trousers, and it touches my own. Our tongues dance rhythmically within each other’s mouths as our lips tease each other. “Follow me,” he says, standing on the staircase as he invites me up.

I step into his bedroom, and it’s tidy. It’s modern. It reminds me of Patrick Bateman’s apartment from American Psycho.

He’s sitting on the bed and I sit down next to him. He leans forward and kisses me again. I kiss him back, but push him so we’re lying down on the bed. It doesn’t take long for him to begin undressing us both. He starts by taking off my top and kissing my neck as I sit on him, my legs wrapped around his back,

I feel his kisses travel all the way from my neck, up behind my ear until he’s back kissing my lips. I take his shirt off one button at a time whilst still kissing him until it’s off and, from the waist up, we’re both naked. We kiss like this for a while longer, until my hand wonders down toward his trousers.

I struggle undoing the button and he grabs both sides of the fabric and pulls, ripping the button clean off. “They’re much better off anyways” he says and he starts to fumble with my jeans except he can manage them.

We both lie separately next to each other to wriggle our trousers off until we’re in our boxers. He’s ready before I am and so he goes down the other side of the bed and slowly kisses the growing bulge in my boxers. The material is present, but still thin enough for my pulsating penis to feel his lips.

My eyes roll backwards as I pull his hair up so I can kiss him more. He starts on my neck again and my legs are wrapped around him once more except now I can feel his rod against my hole, mere layers of cotton seperating us from intertwining as one.

My hand wanders down the sides of his body as we kiss and I feel the sides of his muscles, my hands bumping up and down with the ridges of his torso. They slip too easily down his boxers and onto his cock. It’s large, twice the side of my hand and it’s thick. I start to slowly rub my hand up and down and his breath falters with pleasure. I hear a faint “Fuck,” uttered as I kiss his neck now.

He rolls over, unable to contain his excitement. I move my body toward his cock and slip his boxers down to his ankles. Standing fully erect, it’s almost intimidating. I purse my lips and begin making the tip moist, not yet venturing farther than the base of the head.

I can already taste his precum in my mouth as I lock eyes with him. He’s relaxed with his hand behind his head, looking directly at me whilst I pleasure him. I lick his shaft as though it were an ice lolly and he thrusts his hips up toward the sky, his eyes rolling back into his head and his pillow gripped.

I begin to suck on the shaft, not yet all the way down, but teasing up and down and up and down in a steady rhythm. I’m enjoying it.

He puts his hand on my head and applies pressure, I’m not expecting it and so the cock slips down my throat toward my tonsils and I gag. As soon as he hears the gagging noise, he removes his hand and I remove his cock from my throat.

There’s tears in my eyes and I can’t stop wretching. “Shit, sorry, toilet is just to the left,” he says, leaping out of bed and opening the door for me and pointing me toward the toilet. He grabs his boxers whilst I’m gagging into the toilet. “I’ll grab you some water,” he says rushing down the stairs.

By the time he gets back upstairs, I’m back in the bedroom and I’m sat on the edge of the bed. He sits next to me and hands me the water. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that would happen,” I say to him.

He looks at me confused and says “No, don’t be silly. You’ve done nothing wrong, I shouldn’t have forced that. I saw it in porn and it was hot, but I guess it’s just a porn thing, like lasting for an hour. It’s just editing.”

I look at him with a blank expression, trying to work out whether that’s a joke or if I’m in for some very disappointing sex at some point.

“I’ve had a really great time tonight though,” I say, desperate to break awkwardness and fill the silence somehow.

“Yeah, me too. It’s been really nice,” he says. “I really do like you.”

I lean in and kiss him now, but it’s not as sexually charged as before. “I should call a taxi,” I say after pulling away.

“You don’t have to, you know. You’re more than welcome to just stay here for a bit. We could get some pizza, watch a film? I’ve got the house for the night, it’d be a shame to waste it,” he suggests.

“That sounds brilliant,” I reply.

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elixirfromthestars · 2 years

Text

Conflict of Interest

Pairing: Detective!Bucky Barnes x Lawyer!Reader

Summary: After the many failed dates Natasha set you up on, you decide to give up on the dating scene all together. That is until Bucky makes it his mission to change your mind, but will he be enough to change it?

Word Count: 2.9k

Warning(s): angst + fluff / mentions of homicide and case details / cheating (from side character) / drinking / failed dates / heartbreak

a/n: In Five Years Part 2 is taking me longer than expected to write, so here’s a small fic in the meantime! My finals are in two weeks and I can’t wait to get them done and over with to finally have more free time to write! Thank you for reading! ❤️

➵ Prequel Drabble // ➵ Part II

“ No more, Nat. I can’t go on another date,” you shut down Natahsa’s latest offer, taking a sip of the freshly brewed coffee she made. She rolled her eyes, sitting next to you on the leather couch in your joint office.“ Y/n, you’re seriously going to turn down another guy? I haven’t even told you anything about him yet,” she egged the idea on. You shook your head, handing her the latest case you were assigned to prosecute. “ Can we please just focus on this case? The trial is in a few weeks and we need to be prepared,” you refused to entertain this conversation any longer.

“ I just think you’ll really like th-“

“ No.”

“ But this guy is really cute and a doctor an-“

You gave her a stern look,” No, I’ve decided to stop dating all together. They never end well and at this point emotionally, I can’t handle it.” You stood up to grab one of your law books. You needed to brush up on the precedents for previous crimes of passion in New York. Natasha sighed, glancing over the first file,” Your dates haven’t been that bad.”

“ The last guy introduced me to his mother on the first date.”

“ Okay, that’s. . .kind of sweet?”

“ It was through FaceTime, and at that point we only knew each other for ten minutes.”

In true best friend fashion, she laughed at that,” Okay. Okay. I get it. I’ll leave you alone. By the way, have you seen these evidence photos? She really did a number on him.” Natasha finally focused on the case at hand—you were grateful for that.

You sat at her side again, looking at the photographs in her hand. They were gruesome, but nothing you weren’t used to. “ Yeah, Bucky said Sam was barely able to get a cohesive confession with all her sobbing. She only kept repeating how much she loved him.” Natasha raised her eyebrows at that, scoffing,” Loved him enough to run him over three times.” You took out a copy of the defense’s file,” She caught him cheating with her younger sister. Now she’s pleading the insanity defense. Let’s start by getting Banner to give her a psych eval.” Natasha was on it as soon as you said it.

For over two weeks, the two of you worked day and night, building your prosecution case. The trial was one week away when you two received a much needed visit.

“ You girls look busy,” Sam’s voice caught both of your attention. He was at the door with Bucky, the sight of them brought a smile to your face. “ You here to help, boys?” Natasha eyed the takeout bags in their hands, and you were suddenly aware of the empty pit in your stomach.

Bucky lifted the bags in the air,” Yeah, and we brought lunch.” You and Natasha shared a smug look,” Okay, but first admit you guys actually came because you missed us,” you teased. There was a glint in Bucky’s eyes as he chuckled,” You got us, doll.”

The four of you prepped for the remaining week and won the trial by a landslide. Banner was a huge help in debunking the insanity defense, but it was you and Bucky that managed to figure out how to get the defendant to slip up. It was hard to think of a time before the four of you met. Bucky and Sam were great detectives and when you and Natasha became the assigned prosecutors for their cases—the four of you became unstoppable. There was something about the dynamic within your team that made communication and ideas flow easily.

After a successful trial, everyone on the case would usually meet up at a local bar to share some celebratory drinks. You would’ve done so this time, if it weren’t for Natasha bringing up the dating thing again.

“ Nat, I thought we agreed to leave me alone on this.”

“ I did, until the trial was over.”

“ You never said that.”

“ I did. In my head.”

She muttered the last part under her breath, but you managed to catch what she said. Your mood was elevated after your win, so this conversation was more amusing than bothersome. “ Nat, today I just want to go to the bar and drink some margaritas with my best friend and my favorite boys. No mentions of my non-existent love life, please. For now, I’m giving up on that,” your tone was definite.

“ Give up on what?” Bucky walked into the office, looking at you for an answer. You had forgotten he was giving the two of you a ride to the bar. You glanced at Natasha, pleading with your eyes for her not to say anything. The devious look on her face told you she was going to do otherwise.

“ Y/n, gave up on dating,” Natasha explained, grabbing her coat from her desk chair. You did the same, hoping to rush out of the office and out of this conversion. Bucky turned to you, a frown overtaking his features,” What’s wrong with dating?” Your face scrunched up at a memory you had been repressing,” Bucky, have you ever been on a date where the other person told you upfront that they had a fiance and were just going on a date with you to see if you could change their mind?” His silence spoke volumes.

“ See? Sam and Steve are going to be waiting for us. We should go now,” you grabbed your purse before exiting the office. Bucky and Natahsa followed you immediately after. “ Wait, so when’s the last time you went on a good date?” Bucky continued to inquire. You really didn’t want to talk about your love life—especially not with Bucky.

“ Can’t remember.” you cut your reply short, heading over to Bucky’s silver Honda Civic. “ How about. . . I take you on a date? A great one, I promise.” Bucky’s offer froze you to your spot. You stared at him, wondering if he was being serious. A year ago this would have delighted you. When you first started working together you developed feelings for him, but over time you were able to get over your little crush. Now everything was professional between the two of you.

“ Bucky, thank you for the offer, but-” Bucky interrupted you before you could continue,” Come on, doll. Just one date. I’ll keep it friendly,” there was a hopeful look in his eyes. There was a clear conflict of interest as coworkers if you said yes. If you said no, then things could go back to the way they were. You would, however, never get to see what Bucky was like on a first date. Something you found yourself intrigued to find out.

“ Can I think about it?” You didn’t reject him straight away and that was enough for him. “ Sure, doll. You have my number,” he winked at you, getting into the driver’s seat. Natasha let out a quiet laugh, a smirk on her face. For a second there you forgot she was here. You knew she would find a way to convince you to go.

Which she did, after a few drinks in your system.

It was easier than either of you expected. It seemed deep down maybe a part of you wanted to go on a date with Bucky. You were apprehensive at first, but at the bar you started to look at him differently. The idea of what it was like to date him kept running through your head which made your eyes linger on him more often than usual. You noticed things you hadn’t before like the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed and the way his lips glistened after every swig of his beer. Sam even caught on and made jokes about you checking him out. Bucky couldn’t contain his amusement, clearly enjoying your reaction.

You texted him that same night, agreeing to go on a friendly date with him. There was nothing wrong with that, right? Just two coworkers hanging out, by themselves, after work hours.

Perfectly normal.

There was a part of you that wasn’t so sure this was a good idea. Bucky was your friend and spending the afternoon with him sounded like a good time, but what if something more than friends happens? What will you do then? You weren’t sure if you were ready for anything to change. You liked how things were now. It’s the reason why a year ago you made sure to grab those feelings you had for him and bury them deep inside, under lock and key. Things were better off like that.

He picked you up that same week on Saturday, pleasantly surprising you with a trip to a seasonal fair. A place you hadn’t been to since you were a child. The twinkling lights on the rides looked almost magical in the cloudy sky.

“ I haven’t been to a place like this in ages,” a nostalgic feeling setting within you, as you smelled the sweet scent of sugary dough in the air. Bucky walked over to you,” Yeah, I remember you mentioning to Nat the flier you saw for this place, and thankfully we caught it in its last weekend,” he admitted, placing his hand in yours, hesitantly, as if waiting to see if you’d remove it. You didn’t and instead pulled him towards the entrance,” You picked the perfect place, Bucky. Now, let’s go see what smells so good!” He laughed at your enthusiasm.

To say you had the best time of your life was an understatement. Your stomach was sore from laughing all afternoon, and your hand had found a home in his. He never let go of it, not once, as you navigated the crowds of the fair. You went on a couple of rides, nothing too extreme, as your stomachs couldn't handle it after trying almost all of the food available at the fair. You navigated the funhouse together, fed a few animals at the petting zoo, and got competitive at the fair games. He won you a large three foot teddy bear at the shooting range—something you’d treasure for a long time.

The date was wonderful.

Bucky was wonderful.

An anxious feeling found its way into your heart. You never realized how relieved you were that all your previous first dates went terribly wrong because now in this moment, after so long, you wished for another. You wanted a second date with Bucky and even a third or a fourth. Who knows how many. All you knew was that you had never enjoyed yourself so much. The only problem was, Bucky was your coworker and friend. To do anything more conflicted with those already established relationships.

You ended the night on the ferris wheel—the best spot to watch the fireworks in. You sat next to Bucky in the capsule, the teddybear he won for you sitting opposite of you both. The fireworks were meant to light up the night sky any minute now.

“ I had a dream about this, you know,” Bucky broke the silence, tracing circles into the palm of your hand. His eyes were sincere, searching for something in yours. “Oh, yeah? How’s reality?” You asked him, a soft smile overtaking your lips. “ Way better. Although, my dream ended really well,” he said in a playful tone. You found yourself staring at your intertwined hands,“ Oh? How did it end?”

He let go of your hand to use his to lift your chin up to look at him. Those eyes of his—since when had they’d been so pretty? You couldn't stop staring into them, noticing how they lingered on your mouth. You did the same, not brave enough to lean in first. He read you loud and clear and closed the space between the two of you, laying a passionate kiss on your lips. Through it, showing how much he yearned for it. It shocked you when you kissed back just as strongly.

The fireworks bursted all around you, covering the capsule in the most beautiful of colors.

Damn it, he found the key. He found the key to the box you buried with your feelings in it, unlocking it wide open. Maybe the box was never buried deep inside, but always lying there just beneath the surface waiting for someone to take hold of it—and he had. Bucky found the key and threw it far away, somewhere it could never be recovered and your feelings could no longer hide again.

That terrified you.

Even so, you couldn’t stop kissing him. One kiss, turned into three, then five, until you were borderline making out in the capsule. Your mind was screaming at your heart to stop this, but your heart didn’t listen. The heart wanted what the heart wanted and currently it wanted Bucky’s lips on yours.

However, your mind was louder.

This was Bucky. Your friend Bucky. The Bucky who worked on cases with you—who had mutual friends and coworkers with you. The one who would always volunteer to help you with paperwork after cases, the one you always bounced off ideas with, and rehearsed your opening statements with. If this were to ever become something, and then dissipate into nothing, things would never be the same.

You tensed up, Bucky pulling away when you did. “ Doll, was it bad? Did I do something wrong?” You shook your head profusely,” No, Bucky, you did everything right. This has been the best date I’ve ever had. It was amazing and you’re amazing, but this. . .this can't happen,” you tried to make yourself clear, but your voice faltered towards the end. He looked wounded,” What? Why? Y/n, I have feelings for you and I can tell you have feelings for me too. The way you kissed me now-” you stopped him there,” Please forget about the kiss. Forget about this ever becoming something more. It can’t and it won’t.” He was baffled and could barely form any words,” Why? You just said this has been the best date you've ever been on. How can everything be going so wrong now?” He leaned against the capsule, shaking his head in disbelief. The sight of him made your heart ache.

You reached out to grab his hand as a comforting gesture, but he drew it away from you, your heart sinking. You knew you deserved that. “ Nat is my best friend, and you're best friends with Sam and Steve. This between us, if it ever goes wrong we pull everyone else in it. What we all have now would be irrevocably ruined. I can’t—we can’t risk that,” you were firm in your response, but your eyes betrayed you, a few tears slipping past. Bucky’s eyes glistened with his own,“ You said if it goes wrong. You don’t know if it will. This feels right. This feels like it could be the greatest thing to ever happen to us. If you can look me in the eyes and tell me you feel nothing for me I promise to leave you alone,” he sat up staring straight at you. A silence overtook the capsule, the only other sound being the fireworks around you. They were dying down, creating hues and shadows from time to time, making it harder to get a clear look at Bucky’s face.

You knew he was right. You knew the two of you could be great together, but that meant risking everything you had built in the last year. This date was so right, which proved that if this ever went wrong it would go really wrong. You couldn’t imagine not having Bucky in your life, so the safest thing to do was stay friends.

“ I’m sorry. I can’t. God, please don’t look at me like that,” you swallowed the lump in your throat. “ We’re not just friends and you know that. You're scared of this, I get it. I am too, but I’m willing to risk it all to be with you.” Bucky made his intentions clear. It was like he was handing you the key to his heart and he was begging you to take it.

You didn’t.

“ I’m not,” with that said, it's like you threw the key back at him. The ferris wheel came to a stop, neither of you moving to leave. Bucky was looking at you as if you were a stranger—maybe you were now.

The fair worker came over and opened the door to the capsule signaling for you to get out. You were the first to stand up to leave.

“ I’ll take you home.”

“ No, I’ll take a cab. I need to be alone right now.”

“ Please, don’t go.”

His plea came out as a whisper and you knew you had to get as far away as possible from him before you said or did anything else you might regret.

“ Goodbye, Bucky. I’ll see you at work, Monday,” the lie slipped out of you effortlessly. You already made plans in your mind to call off of work sick on Monday. Maybe even Tuesday and Wednesday if you could. Hell, you’d take the whole week off.

Nevertheless, Bucky insisted on convincing you otherwise, following you with the teddy bear in hand. You weren’t the only ones leaving, so the crowd was dense and easy to get lost in. In less than a minute, however, he lost sight of you. His hand no longer in yours making sure that didn’t happen.

You maneuvered your way through the crowd easily, spotting a line of taxis up ahead. You rushed over to the nearest one, giving the cab driver your home address. Through the side-view mirror, you could swear you saw the faint figure of Bucky watching the cab drive away with you in it.

You felt as empty as the night sky was once the fireworks were gone.

#bucky fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #marvel #mcu #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky angst #bucky fluff #detective bucky #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes angst #marvel angst #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky oneshot

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chocosvt · 3 years

Text

love café

⚬ pairing: jeonghan x fem!reader ⚬ word count: 17.6K ⚬ warnings: some vulgar language, i guess! ⚬ genres: big time nsfw, dirty talk, lap dances, quickies, bath shenanigans, exhibitionism, overstim - you get what i mean. big ole romance, angst, fluff, jeonghan is very rich and very hot, joshua has a not so subtle crush on you.

✧✎ synopsis: while you’ve spent the last few months pretending the love café doesn’t exist, you realize you need its services now more than ever. this brings you face to face with jeonghan, the son of a luxury fashion designer who’s got money to burn. your exchanges are strictly business. until they’re not.

✧✎ a/n: YES, ANOTHER REWRITE. the original love café was just so unsalvageable that i almost fully wiped its plot, minus the actual concept of the café. so, this should read as fairly new! I HOPE U ENJOY IT !!

It’s not that you were desperate. Because you weren’t.

You were actually more than desperate at this point, and no longer could you sit on that uneven couch with the broken leg, staring at the chipped paint, listening to your neighbours’ screams, believing you should continue like this. More than anything, you were shortchanging yourself. There was no point in holding onto that little string of hope in which those employers might phone you back. It would be impossible to contact your family when you had affirmatively cut ties with them ages ago. And, it was becoming increasingly foolish to ignore your one saving grace, just a street over from your rundown complex.

But, could you really commit to it? Would anyone even be able to look at you and think you were someone desirable enough to reward?

Those thoughts often hung over you like a dark cloud, and poured down so heavily that you were metaphorically drenched, in your own pessimism. However, on that day, you were beyond patience with the cards you’d been dealt. Such a despairing apartment, with all its bugs and drafts and horrible neighbours, could not be your brightest and most fortunate future. There had to be something you could do.

Even if it meant going to the Love Café.

In other words, an easy gig to financial heaven, in exchange for sexual pleasures of course. You walked into your bedroom and sat down in front of the wooden vanity, clicking on a dim, flickering bulb to help illuminate your face as well as its lifeless expression which stared back at you. It didn’t take more than ten minutes to pat your skin with some emptying makeup and thinning pans of eyeshadow. Then, you fixed up your hair and chose a simple, mute-coloured dress from your closet, immediately swallowed by the large winter coat you cozied into.

You hurried quickly down the corridor, ignoring the muffled shouts from your argumentative neighbours bleeding through the nickel-thin walls, past the barking dog which jumped against the door, scratching its nails whenever you waited for the elevator, and you didn’t even spare one glance at the very strange man who always hovered in the central lobby and watched you ignore his coos every single day. By the time you arrived outside the Love Café, you were breathing like a marathon runner. Despite the cold weather, you felt a sweat run like a breeze down your temple as you wiped your face before heading inside.

The space felt warm. Everything was red, pink, or white. And when you inhaled, the air smelled like a note of rose petals and candy. It was surprisingly easy to sign up for a ‘Love Card’ at the front desk.

“This card has twelve punches per service with your partner. If, by the end of the twelfth punch, you’re not looking to pursue something serious with this individual, you can pay for another Love Card. If you do manage to find, ‘the one’, then congratulations, and well wishes. Since you’re a first-time client, you get twenty-five percent off your first card.”

Whoever the lady was, she seemed less than enthusiastic as she pushed a cherry-red paper across the counter with a finely manicured nail. You thought she must have given this spiel so many times, the script probably haunted her in her sleep. Nonetheless, you thanked her, and heeded her direction when she advised you to choose any of the free tables, marked with a pale rose. For some reason, you picked the very last table amongst the row and slid yourself onto the uncomfortable, white chair, the metal back moulded into the shape of a heart.

Whoever reserved the table wasn’t exactly punctual. About half an hour after being seated, ordering yourself a tea, and examining the different clients who filtered in and out the café, you were beginning to assume the worst. That they cancelled. Flaked. Decided to pull from the service and direct their affluence elsewhere. As you titled the last few droplets of tea around the base of the cup, feeling utterly depressed and bored, you heard the little bells clink above the door, followed by a gasp from the employee at the front desk. Considering her microscopic range of emotion, you figured whoever entered must be some flawless rarity.

“Jeonghan!” She fixed her slouched position. “I wasn’t aware you made a reservation today. I haven’t seen your name in the system.”

“No worries. I set an anonymous appointment the night before. After all the chaos I caused last time, I figured it’s best to stay under the radar. I know I’m late. I was finishing up a term paper.”

“That’s quite all right. Here, I’ll just quickly renew your information. One moment… Okay, Yoon Jeonghan, you’re all set.”

At that, your eyes practically bulged right into the teacup. You’d heard his name in some conversations with a few university friends, before you had dropped your program. His father was an inventive in the fashion industry for nearly a decade, and his brand was considered high-end luxury, with people forking up the big bucks just to wear a piece from the collection. His mother recently begun a perfume company. In fact, you had a bottle from her Sunrise series sitting on your vanity, though you used each spritz very sparingly considering its outrageous price point. According to the most recent gossip, Jeonghan had ended his relationship with a model who’d been strutting his father’s cloths.

You couldn’t believe he was here.

No – even worse, you couldn’t believe he was making his way toward your table. It had to be some sort of mistake. How could it be that you chose to sit here? Was the universe attempting another cruel joke?

His visual seemed even more daunting outside his photographs in the magazines. Beyond a glossy page, he was softer. Thick hair, shiny and dark brown, which swooped beneath his ears and parted smoothly at the forehead. His lips were the same shade as the windowsill roses, as well as the high arches in his cheeks. But then, he was sharper too, with a trim, angular jaw and such a defined yet judgemental brow. You had expected anyone else but him. And now, this esteemed, much too beautiful man had come to the very last table, wearing an expression of waning curiosity. Or, as you interpreted it, clear-glass disappointment.

Before Jeonghan seated himself, he untucked his phone from his coat pocket and clicked a side button to check the time. He then sniffled, looked straight at the wall, and sighed. Despite your now devoted wish to disappear, you attempted to begin a conversation that wouldn’t backfire.

“Yoon Jeonghan. I’ve heard the name. It’s nice to meet you.”

He settled one arm on the table, tapping his fingernails.

“Yeah. I’m guessing you’re not a regular here—” he then peered over at your bright red Love Card placed by the teacup to say your name.

Bouncing your leg underneath the table, you nodded. “No, not really. I’ve been debating for a while if this was a choice I should make, but I can’t seem to have ends meet doing anything else. So, I came here.”

Already, Jeonghan looked painfully bored. He stopped tapping his fingers and leaned his chin against the hand instead. You knew it was the insecurity barking. Unnecessarily, you apologized to him.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m probably not the woman you’re expecting and I get that. I wouldn’t be all that offended if you wanted to save the Love Card for someone else or—”

Out of the blue, Jeonghan laughed, though he attempted to mute the sound by digging the bend of his index finger between his teeth. Your sentence trailed off with an awkward, dying breath. He suddenly leaned back in his metal seat, shaking his head apologetically and pulling back some of the soft hairs from his eyes. You felt utterly confused.

“Sorry, sorry,” he smiled, “didn’t mean to discourage you there, sweetheart. I’ve just never had someone apologize for—well, their looks.”

“I-I don’t know,” you lunged for damage control, “I just thought you seemed disappointed and I… Well, I haven’t done this before, so I don’t really know all that well how it works. I… I should stop talking…”

It felt as though someone had swatted both your cheeks in an iron-slap, because the skin was stinging hot like never before. You knew he was staring at you, probably thinking to himself that you were a train wreck waiting to happen. Afterward, an employee visited the table to collect your emptied teacup, and asked Jeonghan if he’d like anything to drink. Refusing to look elsewhere but the clenched fists in your lap, you waited for the employee to leave once Jeonghan rejected the offer. He’d pulled out a piece of paper and a pen from his pocket. Uncapping the pen with his teeth, you watched him sloppily scribble something down.

“My number.” He said, sliding it across the table. “Listen, I’ve gotta go home and proofread that term paper before I submit it. Just send me a text, okay? I won’t be free for a few days, anyways.”

“Oh, okay.” You sniffled.

Quite frankly, you couldn’t comprehend that he was still interested in pursuing something venereal, even when you had embarrassed yourself like a circus act. He rose quickly from the table and wrapped the waistband of his coat tight around his small waist.

Staring down at the paper, you blurted out, “are you sure?”

Jeonghan titled his head. “Am I sure of what?”

“Never mind.” You answered. “I’ll text you later.”

“Okay.” He nodded, on the verge of walking away when he abruptly stopped himself. “Are you always this nervous?”

Caught off guard by his question, your elbow whacked the edge of the table and you meekly stuttered, “I-I don’t know…”

You were more than positive he was going to ghost all your texts.

To a degree, you were correct.

Over the course of the following week, you sent Jeonghan at least three texts, each on separate days, only to be rewarded with a demotivating lack of responses. You knew he was a busy individual who probably didn’t have much time to waste on promiscuous affairs, let alone a committed relationship. So, you tried very earnestly to not feel upset or unimportant at his methods – even despite the series of required payments glaring you down from those white envelopes scattered atop the kitchen table.

And then, during the black, late hours of a snowy Friday, you received a reply. A surprisingly urgent one which detailed that you make it to the downtown Opal Studio before eleven o’clock, as there would be a backdoor entrance left unlocked for your access. He mentioned a storage closet underneath a staircase, worded very sternly as: … Wait inside, and do not make yourself known. I’ll see you there shortly, and ensure you leave without being spotted. Uncertain of what the situation would entail, you phoned a cab and payed the driver using some remaining funds from a paper note purse. The studio’s front was a smooth, velvet black, with a wide window which illuminated several mannequins wearing Mr. Yoon’s newest issue. Each outfit cost a pretty penny.

Like you anticipated, Jeonghan was late to meet you in the storage closet; however, you were at no point going to scold his blatant disregard for scheduling when he’d pressed you tight against the door looking the way he did. Buttons popped down the chest of his unwrinkled dress shirt, sleeves cuffed to his elbows, and his neat, styled hair beginning to dishevel around those intense eyes. He braced his hand beside your head, studying your lips as though they were glittering.

“Can I kiss you?” Jeonghan asked. The question seemed to rumble from deep in his throat and you felt your knees weaken.

You nodded immediately, allowing his hand to frame the side of your cheek as his warm, soft mouth nudged against yours. It was gentle for a fleeting touch, and then there was pressure, teeth, a slick tongue running across your bottom lip and leaving you in such a sensual daze that you just stood there with a parted mouth. Jeonghan definitely knew what he wanted from you in that moment. And he wanted it quick. You were flipped around, chest pushed against the door, skirt hiked up impatiently as the fabric ruffled around your hips. His hand slid between your thighs to rub you through the thin pair of underwear, pressing firmly enough that you could feel the cold, thick rings on his fingers.

Eagerly, you began a slow gyration of grinding against Jeonghan’s touch while simultaneously biting down hard on your bottom lip, knowing embarrassingly well that you were already sticky and soaking and ready for him to use you like a designated fucktoy. He was rather flush to your backside as he dug the heel of his palm against your clit, so much yet not enough between the cotton. Something about his scent was beyond arousing, and it gripped to him like a web. An expensive cologne no doubt, mature, raw, and ocean-fresh. You heard the sound of his belt being whipped open, followed by a zipper.

“Alright,” Jeonghan hummed, passing a hand up his length, “let’s make this quick. Gotta be back upstairs in five to finish the measurements and tapering and all that boring shit. Now, just be a good, quiet little girl for me, sweetheart, and this’ll be a cake walk.”

Your mouth stretched into a low, whiny groan as Jeonghan held your underwear aside and began to sink inside of you, his hips stalled against your skin. His light breath then fluttered at your ear, “bet you’d make such a perfect toy to keep my cock nice and warm. Feels so perfect, being this deep inside you, sweetheart.” He shuddered against you, thrusting once, twice, slowly and teasingly dragging himself out before ramming right back in to pinch you against the door.

“Fuck,” he cursed between his teeth, “life would be so much easier if I could just keep you right here on my cock, wouldn’t it, baby?”.

Undoubtedly, that smooth-talking tongue of his was going to be an impending problem. You don’t know where he got off exactly on such scandalous thoughts, but you were too consumed in your own lust to care. The way he fucked you against that door with one hand scraping at your hip and the other wrapped up your throat, fingers pressing hot into your drooling mouth to keep you quiet, it was more bliss than a one-way ticket to Eden. Jeonghan timed his orgasm appropriately, slipping himself from your warmth at the last second and finishing himself off using the hand which had been maintaining your silence. His breaths were slow but husky in the aftermath, his fingers painted in cum.

“You wouldn’t want to use that pretty mouth of yours to clean this, would you?” He laughed.

Before you could respond, Jeonghan had grabbed some paper towels left to sit on a shelf and cleaned the mess himself. Then, as though nothing had happened, he asked if you were carrying that damn Love Card before you could even flatten down the wrinkles in your skirt. You grabbed the small note purse you set down next to the paper towels and revealed the obnoxiously coloured card. Jeonghan smiled.

“That’s the one.” He took a dry erase marker from the shelf and wrote his initials in the first circle.

“Here,” Jeonghan proceeded to offer back the card, “one session down. I need to scram. The hall should be clear at this hour, but have a cab ready just in case you need to bolt fast. Oh—before I go, you got the money to pay the driver? It’s no problem if you’re short. I can cover.”

“N-No, I should have enough.” You answered.

“Cool. I’ll transact you tonight.” Jeonghan nodded, tucking in his shirt rather poorly before slipping past you to exit the storage closet.

One week later, you were at the entrance to the library, pulling open the door with a big, cold huff. It was much warmer inside. You were beginning to feel the tips of your stiff fingers again.

Despite your service at the Love Café, you wanted one last time to test your luck on a receptionist position at the downtown hair salon, simply because you would think better of yourself if you weren’t relying chiefly on Jeonghan to pay your bills. His last transaction had been more than you anticipated. Finally, you were able to erase that huge electricity bill, and you still had enough of the money left over to supply some warm meals for the next few days. If you could just submit your newest resume to the salon, then you might be able to permanently cover the groceries.

Except, you needed access to a computer.

Ever since you tipped over a glass of water onto your old laptop, it had stopped working properly, and the library was the only place close by which let you use the computer room without fees. However, as you peered in through the backroom window to find an open space, you realized just how crammed full it was. Judging by everyone’s intense typing and unblinking eyes, you weren’t going to steal a seat anytime soon, which pulled out a frustrated sigh as you fiddled with the USB in your pocket. You thought about heading home, until you saw Jeonghan.

He was seated at the distant left corner, leaned back comfortably in the chair while he examined something on his laptop. A gym bag was slid underneath the table, and he was dressed as though he had some sort of sports practice; quite the contrary to his usual crisp, ironed shirts and heavy winter coats courtesy of brands you couldn’t pronounce. He seemed concentrated, chewing on his thumb nail while he tapped the touch pad. In fact, he didn’t notice that you had approached him until you said his name quietly from across the table and his eyes flickered.

“Uh, hey.” Jeonghan replied, sounding bothered while he pushed his thumb harshly against his bottom lip. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“And I didn’t expect to see you.”

He shrugged, maintaining his uninterested glance on the laptop screen. “Well, I’m looking over some notes. Last minute stuff.”

You nodded. “What’s with the duffle bag?”

“My friend Joshua – he’s been making me coach this Peewee soccer team with him at the Greenfield Dome.” Jeonghan puffed out his chest, letting an arm fall loosely to his side. “Those kids are insane. They have too much energy. I shouldn’t have let that bastard sweet talk me.”

At that, you giggled, though immediately hushed yourself when the librarian came by with a metal cart, filled with books to shelve. You stepped around the table to move out of her way. Jeonghan pulled out the chair beside him using his foot and nodded that you take a seat.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

You reached into your pocket and pulled out the USB.

“I need to upload my new resume. I mean, I probably won’t hear anything back from this place, ‘cause that’s how it usually goes. But, whatever. Thing is, I busted my laptop, and now the computer room is filled up. I’ll just come back later and hope it’s cleared out.” Staring down at your shoes, you avoided Jeonghan’s gaze. “I know I’m doing this Love Café stuff, but it would still be nice to have my own income, you know?”

“I get that.” He replied, scratching at his collarbone. “I’ve already got my laptop here and everything. You can use it, if you want.”

“Really?” You smiled wide. “Thanks.”

Jeonghan closed a few tabs that he’d been rotating between before sliding his laptop over to you. Wriggling the memory stick into the small slot at the side, you logged into your email account through the main search engine. As long as you could send your resume to the salon before they closed their application deadline, then you would hope for the absolute best, even if it was an unstimulating, lacklustre gig answering phones and scheduling hair appointments all day. Just as you went to drag the file into your email, Jeonghan’s laptop froze.

“Uh, Jeonghan,” you whispered, “nothing’s moving. Do I just wait? Does this normally happen? Did I screw something up?”

He shook his head and laughed. “Relax, relax. It’s been doing that a lot recently. I figured out if you hold down these keys—” Jeonghan suddenly scooted his chair in very close, his thigh pressing against yours as he reached a hand underneath your arm, the other lightly nudging your fingers off the keyboard, “then it goes back to normal. See?”

“O-Oh, yeah. It’s working.” You stuttered, not all staring at the specific keys he clicked because the side of his face was much too pretty.

Granting you access to the keyboard again, Jeonghan leaned away, though he didn’t move his thigh from yours even an inch. It was almost concerning how flustered you felt. Jeonghan had literally pinned you against a closet door and fucked his own hand right in front of you, and yet, your heart was fluttering tenfold. In a much different way. And it lit this spark of fear and adrenaline at the core of your chest like gasoline hitting a wicked flame. You detached the USB stick, logged yourself out from the email account, and moved quickly off the seat.

In a hurried breath, you said, “thanks so much!” and proceeded to leave the library as though someone were trailing you with a pitchfork.

While it was embarrassing, you knew it was necessary. There was no way you were going to crush on that boy. It was strictly business.

Tired. Aching.

Uncomfortable moisture covering the slopes and divots of your body. You didn’t think there was anything left inside you for him to so commandingly take, like his name were inked to your each and every limb. And yet, Jeonghan wasn’t ready to let you rest. The mattress dipped behind you, the heat of his chest sticking to your back, the weight of his erection pressed right at your tailbone. While his lips kissed softly up your neck, Jeonghan slid his hand in between your thighs to continue pleasuring you, ignoring the responsive whimpers attached to your sensitivity. He’d already brought you to two orgasms, though you were sensing the overbearing rush of a third.

An index and middle finger slid down to your entrance, the contact beyond slippery, a sort of wet velvet, and you hardly recognized the sensation unlike the first time he’d touched you. Jeonghan hooked the digits deep, using the heel of his palm to rub a thorough friction against your clit. Working faster and faster, his laboured breaths fanned hot across your neck while he sharply concentrated on making you starry-eyed. It was pain. It was bliss. It was exactly what you wanted most and everything you couldn’t endure at the same time. You came heavily, screamed as the pulsation at your core felt almost violent.

Unable to fully ride out the pleasure, you attempted to curl away from Jeonghan, hiding your face in the pillows and further tilting your hips. However, the boy followed your movement. He stayed snug to your back, practically leaned over top you with the latter arm braced next to your head while his hand pounded and pounded. The amount of liquid gushing onto his fingers and spilling down his wrist felt almost comical, and you were certain that you had never orgasmed so intensely in your life. To make matters worse, it seemed as though he’d taken that little memory box in your head filled with all your language and tossed it right out the damn window. You couldn’t form one word other than sobs.

Jeonghan breathed a light, shaky chuckle beside your ear. “Trying to run from me, sweetheart? When I can make you feel so good? Look at how much you can take, honey. Such a good girl when you cum so fucking hard ‘round my fingers I can barely move them.”

The sound of his digits sliding out from your entrance was the most impure, salacious noise you didn’t know could exist. Rolling slowly onto your back, you saw the immediate coating on Jeonghan’s hand and the drops beading down his wrist. He caught one with his tongue, licking all the way back up like he was cleaning the juice from a melted popsicle, and you almost couldn’t watch him. In fact, you were exhausted. There wasn’t anything left for you to offer, and the thought of moving from his bed when your core felt this utterly sore and your muscles this tight set a perfectly timed cue for your eyes to fall shut. It was heavenly.

Nonetheless, Jeonghan had a very specific rule. There was no staying past your session, and he was often strikingly clear about it. But this was the first time you’d been pushed to such a degree. He must be able to recognize that it was only a short nap you needed, and perhaps a quick minute under the shower to rid your skin of the sticky sweat.

Out of the blue, something was tossed onto your face. It was your t-shirt earlier stripped and thrown to the floor by Jeonghan. Cracking an eye open and peeling away the fabric to hang loosely from your grip, you sighed. He had already slipped back into his exercise pants.

“Seriously? I’m exhausted.”

He threw a loose flannel over the long, beaming red scrapes that you had clawed down his back, shaking his head with a huff.

“I’m not saying you need to get out right now. I’ve got a dinner with the parents at eight.” Jeonghan proceeded to drop the rest of your undergarments onto bed. “So, you gotta be gone by a quarter to, alright?”

Swallowing dryly, you nodded.

“Alright.”

The next morning, you were seated on the edge of your bed, staring with bleary eyes at the smooth, red Love Card that was initialed to its fifth circle, leaving only eight more sessions with Jeonghan. Though you approached the café with nothing more than an intention to earn money (even if the sex would be inexplicably dull), you were beginning to presume that there was more to this business than you thought. Because the sex wasn’t dull. It was concerningly amazing. And the very man who you had sworn to maintain a no-strings-attached type relationship with was throwing you for a loop. But he was boundary driven.

Be ready to go by this time. No sparkly clothes. Leave nothing in the washroom. Don’t show up here. Don’t show up there. Don’t text me unless this. Don’t call me unless that. Jeonghan knew very explicitly that you were a simple trick to relieving his stress and fulfilling his sexual desires, yet, anything further than that was laughably impossible. And, besides, it’s not like you needed to be in love or have this dazzling, perfect boyfriend. There was too much on your plate already.

You had gone to bed in a thick wool sweater, layered with the heaviest comforter you had due to the broken heating. Ignoring the cold, your next-door neighbours had found themselves in another drunken argument, forcing you to hear the unnerving crack of beer bottles and an outrageous number of insults, ranging from the very straightforward, ‘ridiculous bitch” to the audacious, “go fuck yourself, narcissistic prick.”

Thankfully, the dramatics ended just before three am.

You set the Love Card back on your nightstand. After you splashed mild water onto your face from the sink, you started multitasking, attempting to brush your teeth and remove your pyjama bottoms at the same time. Then, there was a knock at your door. You spared a glance through the peephole while the toothbrush hung from the corner of your mouth and the frigid air hit your bare legs. Upon recognizing the face reflected through the fisheye lens, you nearly choked on the mint-flavoured spit collected at the back of your throat, which forced you to unpleasantly compose yourself at the kitchen sink.

He knocked again, and you pulled the door open almost immediately, probably appearing as though you just hiked through the wilderness. Jeonghan’s eyes widened as he smiled at you.

“Damn. Sleep well?” He remarked, looking you up and down.

You were in the midst of a yawn as you answered. “Um, yes. I-I mean no. Wait, I don’t know what I’m saying. What was the question?”

Jeonghan nodded. “I’ll take that as a no.” He then reached into the pocket on his flannel coat. “Anyways, I have your phone. You left it on my bedside table the other night. Figured it’s kind of useful, I guess.”

“Oh my god. I did that?” You winced, realizing you must have been so tired and discombobulated from Jeonghan blowing your brains out that you forgot. “It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

Leaning your temple against the door, you sighed. “How was that dinner thing with your parents? Was it any fun?”

The boy shook his head, pulling out his car keys and tossing them from hand to hand. “No. It was all business bullshit. What they want me to do with my future after I graduate uni. How to be responsible with my money since they think I’m gonna blow it in a few years. Trying to structure my life around stuff I don’t really give a damn about.”

“O-Oh…” You frowned, “well, was there at least good food?”

Jeonghan stopped playing with his keys and titled his head at you. “Yeah,” he said, his eyes gentle, “they had great red velvet cake.”

Unfortunately, your neighbours must have woken up and decided it was a little too peaceful at such an hour, because you heard a loud, clanging thump echo from the room beside yours, like someone had dropped a metal pot or pan on the ground. Of course, the yelling started.

It didn’t last nearly as long compared to the night before, just a few scolding comments which were ultimately muffled. You wondered what Jeonghan was thinking as he blinked at the neighbour’s door and realized how despairing the narrow, dimly-lit hallway looked. After visiting his high-end apartment numerous times based in the luxury core of the city, with its beautiful architecture and sparkle, you were frankly a bit humiliated he was witnessing this drab part of your life – the reason you were seeking his service in the first place. You apologized through your teeth for the commotion, though Jeonghan merely shrugged.

“It’s better than nothing, right?”

“Yeah, that’s true. But those two next door can be a handful sometimes. I don’t get it. If they hate each other, then just break up. Get divorced. It’s like they want to be miserable on purpose.”

“Bet you wish you could get the hell outta here, huh?”

“All the time.” You replied wistfully. “I’m thinking of going to the mall today, actually. I need a new bath towel. Whatever gets me away.”

“You want a ride there?” Jeonghan asked, shaking his keys.

At that, you smiled a little too wide. “Maybe.”

Carefully, you picked up a thin, glass bottle of pink perfume from the display counter, tilting the liquid back and forth as the lights gleamed off the gold nozzle. Everything inside the store was diamond bright and almost blinding, while the air smelled strongly of expensive floral. The employees were tailored in smooth, sophisticated suits, which made you more petrified than usual to touch anything, hence your very delicate inspection of the perfume as you waited for Jeonghan to finish his conversation with the front clerk. Since his father’s collection was sold at the boutique, Jeonghan seemed to have a cordial relationship with the staff, and they had recognized him almost immediately.

As most of their merchandise was quite expensive, you always ignored the boutique until Jeonghan suggested you stop by. It didn’t help that there was actually some cute clothing begging to be bought, though you knew one swift glance at the price tag would change your mind. You brought the perfume bottle close to your nose and inhaled lightly.

“What does it smell like?” Jeonghan asked.

You sniffed again. “It’s sweet, though it’s not strong.”

“Let me smell.” He said, and so you raised the bottle up to his nose. Jeonghan wrapped his hand around yours as he took a breath, shaking his head in disapproval. “That’s all wrong. I don’t like it.”

“It is kind of high schoolish.” You told him, setting the test bottle back onto the counter as though you were laying down a jewel. “I just need a new scent, you know? I actually love that one bottle your mom did, the summer tropic one. It’s so peachy but mild. I’m running out.”

“For real?” Jeonghan laughed, his eyes skipping over the different shaped containers. “You use one of my mom’s perfumes?”

“Um, yeah. Have you even smelled the tropic one? It’s amazing.”

“I don’t hang around her laboratory too often.” He replied. “It gives me a big fucking headache. Smells like this place times a hundred.”

You shrugged. “I guess that’s understandable.”

Suddenly, Jeonghan had latched his hand around your elbow, pulling you around to the opposite side of the counter. He grabbed a tall, slim bottle that was made from foggy glass and a chrome silver pump.

“C’mon, give me your wrist for a second.” He said. “Try this scent. I don’t know why, but it reminds me of you.”

Pulling up your sleeve, you stuck out your wrist and allowed him to spray a thin layer against the skin. Then, you sniffed the area. At first, your forehead crinkled as you attempted to decipher its concoction of notes. There was something a little fresh and cool, but then there was this oddly mature hint of a distinguished floral scent. You couldn’t pinpoint the flower, but it was certainly addictive and very intriguing.

“It’s called Orchid Night. Smells great, right?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, rolling your sleeve back down “just don’t tell me what it costs. It has to be at least fifty bucks.”

“Try sixty-nine,” Jeonghan corrected, “plus tax, don’t forget.”

Immediately, you grabbed the bottle from his hand and returned the perfume to its small podium on the countertop.

“Well, let’s put it back before we break it.”

Jeonghan smirked. “I could buy it for you.”

For a split second, you were tempted to succumb, though you snapped from the thought at the last second and shook your head.

“No way. I wouldn’t let you, anyways.”

He buried his hands in his pockets, rolling those gold-copper eyes of his. Jeonghan made sure to purposefully bump into you as he walked down the bright aisle toward the clothes. “Honestly, you’re so boring, man. That scent, on you? It would be sexy.” The boy then turned around to smother you with a burning gaze. “But, fine. Have it your way.”

You hurried after him, scoffing lightheartedly to camouflage the fact your heart was beating like a broken pendulum. Jeonghan had stopped at a rack of neatly pressed clothing to sort through the hangers.

“My way is the better way,” you smiled, “always.”

Jeonghan moved the long-sleeved button-up he’d been eyeing back onto the rack, merely blowing out a puff of air.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Besides, I still need to get my bath towel.”

“We can find it on the bottom floor. At the new essentials store that just opened up. The Shower Duck, I think.”

“The Shower what?”

He couldn’t help but cackle while repeating himself. “The Shower Duck. You thought I said something else, didn’t you?”

When you were too tongue-twisted to reply, Jeonghan decided to place his fingers softly on your chin, holding your head still as he leaned in very closely to whisper, “you’re such a dirty girl, you know that?” You almost hated how casually he pulled away and continued to examine the clothing, as though he hadn’t just murmured a lascivious comment into your ear while the employees were standing a mere few meters across the store. More than anything, you desired the courage to deservingly tease him in return, to break that relaxed little shtick of his. Except, you weren’t confident nor subtle enough to attempt anything in public.

But when your eyes landed on that brand-new lingerie set wrapped primly on the nearest mannequin, you had a wonderful idea.

“No, are you being serious? Why? Why?”

His blunt fingernails sunk into the leather arms of the desk chair, scraping upward, as equally frustrated with your cruel antics as he was aroused and impatient. Maybe it was somewhat meanspirited to strut the thin, beautiful lace and ribbons curled around your body in a baby pink, and indeed, there was a moment where you pondered leniency, though, you severed the thought, because Jeonghan would surely tear each garter and bow from your outfit like it hadn’t cost anything at all. Pursing your bottom lip, you smiled, sinister and cold.

“I am being serious,” you stated firmly, nearing closer to his desk chair, “your hands won’t touch a single part of me, Jeonghan.”

He glared up at you with a dark, flickering fire in his eyes, as if he were already weighing the consequence to breaking such rules. You began to sit comfortably on the boy’s lap, curling your arms around his neck while maintaining the intensity of the stare.

“And, if you do, I’ll grab my things and leave. It’ll just be you and your hand, for the rest of the night.” Purposefully, you brushed delicate lips, featherlight, along his warm, red-tinged ear, to which you could practically feel him harden underneath you upon the whisper, “and there’ll be nothing you can do other than remembering how good it felt when I was in your lap, grinding down on you, baby boy, just like this.”

Slowly and with focus, you rolled your hips in a deep, smooth gyration, ensuring Jeonghan felt the heavy pressure against all the right places. His hands keened for your waist, so you immediately reminded him of your unnegotiable rules, forcing them to settle on the arms of the chair. He drew in a sharp breath. And then, he started to laugh, like a beaten protagonist receiving their first, acrid taste of defeat. Jeonghan titled his head back to smile very lazily at you.

“Evil.” He said. “You’re fucking evil.”

“Mmhm,” you agreed, continuing the unhurried, steadfast pace of your hips rolling back and forth, observing with poorly hidden glee as the boy lost his smile, “but you’ll still cum, won’t you, Jeonghan?”

Before he could sneak in a clever rebuttal, you adjusted yourself even lower onto his lap, digging your nails down the back of his neck as you circled a thorough motion against his erection. Admittedly, it was difficult to maintain the domineering act. Even through the black material of the slacks, his cock was managing to create a friction with your lace underwear, a friction so rough yet fruitless that you were already tempted to take him, full and aching inside you. In order to distract yourself, you licked the tender side to Jeonghan’s neck, looping your tongue in a messy, warm pattern overtop a sensitive vein.

“Ff-fuck,” Jeonghan stuttered, scraping harshly along the chair, “you devilish little girl, c-can’t believe you’re g’nna make me cum like this—b-but it feels so damn good the way you’re moving, baby.”

You suckled until you’d drawn a shiny, wine-coloured hue to the surface of Jeonghan’s skin, to mark a dark bruise as a keepsake. He kept breathing through a parted mouth, each exhale shakier and more erratic than the last, his knuckles hard like stone while they gratingly tensed and betrayed his frustration at not being able to touch you. With slow, teasing hands, you began to drag them down his chest, nails clawing at the expensive fabric of his dress shirt. Jeonghan squirmed. He clenched his jaw and cursed rough under his breath. You focused on where his cock was poking you to apply the most dizzying pressure thus far, rolling your hips until something inside Jeonghan snapped and you felt him cum.

“Jesus—fuck!” He shouted, the loudest you had ever heard the boy, and there was a notable tear in his usually soft voice. “Keep going, keep going,” Jeonghan panted, squeezing his eyes shut, “keep fucking moving just like that, sweetheart. A-Ahh, ff-fuck, feels s-so good—"

At the pulsating sensation right beneath your core, you submitted to Jeonghan’s wish and continued grinding down, even if you were beginning to tire at your lack of stamina. However, there came a point where you were too breathless to maintain such a pace, so you trickled to a halt and steadied your hands on his firm shoulders. He tossed his head back, neck leaned against the edge of the chair. The hazy, glass look to his brown eyes and the rose glow smeared on each cheek made it appear as though he’d just touched down from heaven. As you shifted slightly in Jeonghan’s lap, you noticed the white stream of cum that had soaked through his pants, and that somehow, he was still hard.

“I didn’t know you could beg, Jeonghan.” You remarked, grinning, meanwhile attempting to catch your breath.

He shook his head. “Don’t expect it too much.”

“Well, I can tell you’re satisfied, either way.”

He chuckled, brushing some of the loose hairs from his face. You felt his hands settle upon your waist’s bare skin, warm and squeezing. In that moment, you just didn’t possess the same acuteness to scold him.

“Almost,” Jeonghan huffed, “but, what do you suppose you’ll do to please yourself, sweetheart?” He leaned forward, until his forehead was just a sliver away from bumping yours, the boy sliding a hand down your abdomen and beneath the lace underwear. As he stroked the tips of his fingers along your slit, he smirked. “I’ve never felt someone so wet before, dripping all over my fingers and I’m barely touching you. Did it turn you on that much, sweetheart? Feeling my hard cock right underneath this needy pussy of yours?” Jeonghan teased with a smirk and a low, calm tone. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to duct tape his mouth shut or allow him to keep talking, as there was something about his honeyed voice which wound you up like clockwork.

Yet, before you could even start the syllable of a response, Jeonghan pushed you strongly from his lap, his hands glued to your waist as he guided you to stumble against the bed. Your back hit the mattress, the sheets puffing up around you. And then, Jeonghan was kissing you, lips clashing messily while he took advantage of the switched power dynamic to run his hands over your every inch. One second, they were cupping your breasts overtop the baby pink bralette. Another second, they were grabbing at your ass and kneading so desperately. You were being ravaged. It was overwhelming, it was gratifying, it was needed beyond belief.

“Hey,” Jeonghan said, separating his mouth from the side of your throat to stare at you with an oddly sentimental eye, “before I get all up in your guts and everything— you look beautiful. Even if you did choose this outfit to be a big fucking tease.” His fingers brushed down the edge of your jaw, and he smiled at you in a way that wasn’t clever or teetering on sarcasm. Your heart leapt like a little frog in your chest.

“Really?” You questioned him, not because you didn’t believe the lingerie suited your figure, but rather, you weren’t expecting this sweetness from someone who was always so quick to get rid of you.

He nodded, raising a suspecting eyebrow. “Yeah, really. What, you think I’m lying to you or something?”

“No, I don’t think that,” you answered quickly, curling your fingers into the bedsheets, “I just—I wasn’t… Uh, never mind.”

“Alright,” Jeonghan laughed, lowering his head to delicately kiss your cheek, and then your neck, “you’re a bit strange sometimes, you know that?” He mumbled against the sensitive skin, even daring to dig his knee between your thighs to make you increasingly pliable.

“I-I know,” you stuttered, unable to help your embarrassing voice crack. But you still smiled, letting Jeonghan explore and pleasure your body with an uncharacteristic tenderness for the remainder of the night.

Twelve am.

Usually, at this time, you’d be at the bottom floor of his apartment complex, seated by the lobby water fountain. You’d be examining your face with a pocket mirror, awaiting the yellow taxi cab, and trying to avoid eye contact with the wealthy businesspeople filtering from the elevators in glamourous congregation.

However, tonight was different.

Tonight, you were in Jeonghan’s bed, with a white sheet covering the lower half of your bodies, an ear pressed to his bare, warm chest while you breathed him in like the wind on a bright summer’s day. You felt his fingertips trace long figure eights down your spine and then dance back up to the subtle curve of your shoulder blades. Sometimes it tickled, other times it was a touch so soft it was hardly there, and in between you thought he might have been tracing words. The room was quiet. But good quiet— the comfortable quiet. And then you heard Jeonghan speak into the crown of your head while his hand stilled at your waist.

“Did that salon ever call you back?” He asked.

You sighed, focusing on your thumb which brushed a small freckle on his pectoral muscle. “They emailed me, and said their position was already filled, but that they’ll try to look for another opening.”

Jeonghan rubbed your hip. “That’s good, right? I mean, they didn’t just flat out reject you. They’re gonna keep you in mind.”

“It’s better than what I’m used to getting,” you answered, pressing your lips together and tilting your head up at him.

And, that’s when it struck you, like someone had just clanged a bell right beside your head. You were still in Jeonghan’s bed. You were still in Jeonghan’s apartment. You were still with Jeonghan. Feeling as though you’d broken some vastly significant cardinal rule, you operated on a strange basis of panic and autopilot, already seated at the edge of the mattress while you tucked your underwear back on.

“I’m sorry,” you spewed, reaching for your shirt next and straightening it out frantically in your lap, “the time escaped me. I-I know I have to go. And, my Love Card, I think it’s in my purse or—”

“Can you slow down?” Jeonghan laughed, casting a hand through his loose, disarrayed hair which you had admittedly tugged earlier in the night like your life depended on it. The boy’s arms circled around your midframe, hugging your back to his chest. “I don’t care about that stupid card right now,” Jeonghan hummed into your ear, “stay.”

At that, you almost choked. “Stay? You want me to stay?” You repeated dumbly, dropping the inside-out shirt back onto your lap.

The coldest shiver split down your spine as Jeonghan buried his face against your neck, taking a breath of your scent, kissing your skin.

“Yeah,” he purred, now pecking the soft spot behind your ear, “I want you to stay. Or, if you really want to go home, I won’t stop you.”

“No,” you replied almost immediately, melting into his voice, his touch, his body, “trust me, I’d rather be here.”

Jeonghan’s arms relaxed their snug grip.

“I figured that.”

Even though you had strongly protested the idea, Jeonghan succeeded at wearing you down akin to an ocean tide forming whorls into rock, and now you were seated before your vanity with an array of makeup scattered at your fingertips as you prepared for a dinner. His parents were going to be there, in addition to some business partners and close friends, which sounded like something from a hellish nightmare. In fact, Jeonghan himself didn’t seem all that eager to attend. He’d been sprawled across your bed for the past half hour, with the long drapes of his coat fanned around him, as he flipped through an old magazine. You were certain he just didn’t want to tough another dinner alone.

After focusing a spritz of perfume to your neck (the orchid one, bought by Jeonghan, because he was very insistent that you not smell like his mother) you shut off the vanity lights and sighed.

“I think I’m ready… Physically though, not mentally.”

Jeonghan yawned, tossing the magazine aside before he pushed himself to sit upright on the bed. He rubbed at his eye.

“Trust me, it’s not going to be the big, royal midnight ball that you’re picturing. My parents have these dinners all the time. You’ll be the centre of attention for a few minutes, and then it’s pretty much just business central from there. You’ll be lucky if you can even get a word in. I stopped trying months ago.”

You smiled at him, feeling slightly better about the situation, and took one last, scrutinizing glance in the mirror. The dress was simple yet elegant, a mute shade of dark blue with a beaded, crystal belt that you had forgotten about, as you discovered it laying behind a stool shoved in your closet. The fabric had an elastic tightness to it and was hemmed shorter than you remembered, just above your fingertips. You tried not to judge or overthink the figure which reflected in the vanity glass, or what Jeonghan’s parents might assume upon their first introduction to someone who was so clueless on their accolades. It was merely a dinner.

“Stop worrying so much,” Jeonghan hummed, sensing that you were at the forefront of a spiral. His hands settled to your hips and he caught your eye through the mirror. “No one is going to judge you, or poke fun at you, or say anything mean. I promise.” He then grabbed your winter coat off the bed, helping you slide into the arms, and even doing up the buttons. “You’re gorgeous.” Jeonghan said, tapping your chin.

It didn’t help that he could fluster you so easily.

Joshua wasn’t at all who you expected him to be, while simultaneously encompassing everything you would indeed expect from the position of Jeonghan’s closest friend. He was a juxtaposition personified. Slick, ash blonde hair combed into a handsome wave, eyes which twinkled like the restaurant’s diamond chandelier, and a soothing voice which could be a cup of warm milk on a frosty day, though his interactions with Jeonghan portrayed him as childlike and frivolous. He greeted you, at first with a quick hug. You heard him exhale deeply.

“Wow,” Joshua commented, retreating to shake your hand, “you smell amazing! I mean—well, I hope that doesn’t sound weird.”

You laughed, and wondered how someone could smile with such a prettiness. “Thank you! I’d be upset if you didn’t notice, actually.”

Joshua continued to shake your hand. “Oh, yeah, agree. It’s wonderful to meet you. Jeonghan’s been trying to hide you, it seems.”

“Go shove a break stick in your mouth,” Jeonghan scoffed, blowing a loose piece of hair from his eyes, “and stop shaking her hand like that. You’re gonna snap her whole arm off.”

Finally, Joshua released his grip, and your arm fell back to your side like a limp noodle. His cheeks were starting to turn pink.

“I was not. Anyways—” he nodded at you, “like I said, nice to meet you. I hope we’ll talk more tonight and I’ll pick your brain.”

“Sure thing,” you answered, waving the boy off as he returned to the dinner table before facing Jeonghan. “He seems nice.”

“And totally into you. I haven’t seen him shake someone’s hand like that since I introduced him to Elouise from France. He’s gonna turn into a lost puppy all over again. Bet he’ll try to sweet talk you later.”

“Can’t wait.” You grinned, already giggling through your teeth.

Jeonghan c0nsquently thwapped your forehead with his finger.

However, meeting Jeonghan’s parents was starkly different than the good-humoured Joshua. They both appeared cross, and firm, and before you had even shaken their hands you were forced to wipe yours against your dress. The father was a bit softer around the edges, showing you a pleased smile that reminded you instantaneously of Jeonghan, while the mother was stone-faced and seemed as though she hadn’t slouched since birth. Even when she complimented your fragrance, there was a tartness to her voice which made it sound disingenuous.

“Well, Jeonghan,” she said, clasping her hands together, “I’m glad to finally see you with a lovely lady on your arm. I didn’t think it was possible that you could settle for someone after being with Baejin.”

“Oh?” The father piped up, “you’re my son’s girlfriend?”

Before you could respond, Jeonghan had beaten you to it.

“No, she’s…” he bit his lip hard, “she’s just a friend. Mom kept nagging that I always come to these dinners alone, and she was down.”

For some reason, it felt like someone had pierced a pin straight through your heart – a very tiny hole which shouldn’t hurt all that much, yet stung like flesh to orange, glowing metal. In fact, there was a visible shift in your countenance, from a nervous smile to a sunken frown, but you were able to veil it very quickly and pretend nothing was wrong. Why should you feel so disappointed that Jeonghan had introduced you as a friend? The promiscuous nature of your relationship didn’t immediately loop you two together as soulmates, or lovers, or even the mildest beginnings of boyfriend and girlfriend. You tried to refocus yourself.

Jeonghan’s mother nodded. “Even if she isn’t your next Baejin, it’s nice to meet a new face. The dinner talk might bore you no doubt.”

“No, not at all—” you forced a smile, “I’m just excited to be here.”

It was easier to endure the night than you thought, because true to Jeonghan’s word, the conversation was a bunch of business lingo that you didn’t exactly understand, with the occasional question flitted to you by Joshua who sat across the table. You had completely emptied your glass of ice water, and were halfway through your wine when two fancy, tuxedoed servers stopped by the table to collect everyone’s dishes. A distant relative was seated to Jeonghan’s right, and they had swept him into a discussion of whether or not he was interested in pursuing his current degree or if he would abandon it to work fulltime for his father’s brand. Meanwhile, Joshua had whisper-shouted your name.

You raised an eyebrow, “what?”

“Are you getting dessert?” The blonde asked, already shoving a small, plastic menu to his face. “I can’t decide what I want.”

“I guess so,” you picked up an extra menu sitting by a purple wine bottle and started to browse the list of decadent food.

Joshua sighed, “I usually get the cheesecake… but, I’m torn. What if I want the caramel apple baked pudding with black truffles?”

“The caramel apple baked what?” You questioned, laughing from the absolute mouthful that Joshua just worded so effortlessly.

“I know, I know. It’s a jumble. But my family and I come here all the time so I’ve gotten these names down pat. What are you thinking?”

“Um, I’m not sure. I’ve never been here before, actually.”

His eyes, glistering and delighted, locked with yours. “Can I recommend you something, then?” Joshua said while smiling. “Red velvet cake. It’s right at the bottom. Not to mention the slice is huge so there’s always leftovers for the next day. It’s a favourite here.”

The relative responsible for dragging Jeonghan into another trite conversation concerning his future had excused themselves from the table. He was finally able to return his attention to you, and you slid over the dessert menu so he could pick something. You noted that Jeonghan’s hand had fallen onto your thigh, right at the hem of your dress, and you could only surmise that trouble was brewing. Joshua took a sip from his water glass, then settled it back on the table while subtly eyeing you.

“So, I’ve never seen you around before. Are you in school?”

You tapped your nails against the white table cloth, shaking your head, “no—I had to drop my program. It just wasn’t what I thought it would be and, well, I took a huge hit financially. So, no school.”

“Not everything is going to be a bullseye,” Joshua said, “I’m sure there’ll be more opportunity down the road. This other friend of mine, his name is Mingyu, he does this thing called the Love Café—” the boy then gestured to Jeonghan, “and I know he’s done it once before. Have you heard of it? Maybe it’s not up your alley, but I hear it’s good money.”

The suggestion had quite visibly stunned you. It seemed that Jeonghan was intent to keep the foundation of your relationship as covert as possible, which prompted his ‘friends’ comment before dinner, therefore you had no choice but to follow the rouse, even if the boy was currently sliding his hand further up the inside of your thigh, pushing inch by inch under your dress. Jeonghan didn’t contribute a single word.

“Um, the name sounds familiar. I’ll have to look it up.” You then glanced at him, hanging his head over the menu like a child who forgot their glasses, probably hiding some million-watt smirk.

“Are you having dessert?” Joshua asked his friend.

Jeonghan sat up straight, nodding, “I am.”

“The red velvet cake?”

“Vanilla ice cream. The one that comes on the skillet.”

“Oh, that one’s seriously good,” Joshua groaned, “ask them to put a chocolate chip cookie on the side. It gets all warm and—”

“Joshua,” the young lady beside him, probably in her late twenties, with petal-shaped, twinkling eyes similar to his and ice-like smooth skin, suddenly wrapped her hand around his arm, “can you come outside with me for a few minutes? I think I left my wallet in the car.”

He pushed out his chair. “Sure thing—guys, I’ll be back in a few. I need to help my cousin. If the waiter comes, order for me please.”

While you might have promised Joshua to follow through on his unnecessarily complicated apple pudding, such thoughts were quick to be discarded the moment he’d left the table, as Jeonghan had given you much more to think about. The boy’s hand was wedged between the apex of your thighs with two fingers pressed flat against your underwear. You felt heat, and the faintest burning of pleasure, one that yearned for you to start a gentle undulation against his hand because your unruly body was already eager for stimulation. Jeonghan picked up his wine glass.

“What are you doing?” You tried to shelter the whisper from the table’s guests, hoping the business speech was too engrossing.

As laid back as an ironing board, Jeonghan took a long gulp from his drink, swishing the wine from cheek to cheek before he swallowed. He set the wide-rimmed glass back down and wiped his mouth.

“What do you mean, ‘what am I doing?’” He said, raising an eyebrow at you as though you’d conjured a make-believe tale. However, the instant he started to slide up his index finger so it could push firmly against your clit, a smirk penetrated that complacent expression.

You grabbed his wrist, stared him dead in those honey-brown eyes. “Are you insane?” the whisper was harsh, “we’re in public.”

He tilted his head indifferently. “What’s your point, love? I get to play with your pussy whenever I want. It’s mine now. Remember?”

The dirty-mouthed comment split a fire beneath your cheeks like a flint cracking steel. Not only that, but Jeonghan studied each minor contort of your face as he slipped two digits beneath your underwear, brushing his fingertips ever so softly around your sensitive clit. You gulped, dry and gritty, hating that your thighs were starting to spread.

“Jeonghan!” A voice called his name from down the table.

Fear gripped your poor heart like latex glove. It was an older relative, asking him to pass down the remaining bottle full of wine.

“Oh, such a nice boy!” She chirped.

You nearly gawked at the remark considering the immoral placement of his hand and what he was doing. On the contrary – as much as you wanted to be embarrassed for allowing Jeonghan to touch you in public viewing– he knew his talents much too well, and the manner in which he used your own arousal to lubricate the massaging motion of his finger to your clit was an astounding bliss. Your legs fell wider apart, inviting him to explore a more rigorous touch, and that’s when Jeonghan curled his two fingers inside of you until his knuckles couldn’t fit.

Before your pinched expression could be caught by anyone at the table, you looked straight down at your lap, watching his wrist work beneath the navy-blue fabric. In fact, very faintly, you could hear the squelch from his digits pumping deep and slow into your warmth. Your bottom lip was quivering as he drew them out, now running the long length of his fingers upward to graze beneath the hood of your clit. He repeated a stroking gesture. It triggered the nerves to swell and pulse.

“I see Joshua walking back,” Jeonghan murmured, an arrogance thick in his voice, “and you don’t want him to find out about this, do you? Or, maybe I’m wrong.” He slid his entire hand beneath your underwear and cupped your centre, squeezing like he owned it. “Maybe you want him to know you’re such a whore of a girl that you’ll take my fingers anywhere. I mean, look at how much you’ve opened your legs, and I didn’t even ask you to. I love when you behave just for me, honey.”

Joshua collapsed back at the table with a huff, combing some snow flurries from his hair. “We found the wallet.” He said.

Yet, you couldn’t even bring yourself to face him. Jeonghan had spread your lips with his index and ring finger, using his middle digit to make rhythmic, deep circles around the bud. An erotic whine escaped your teeth and Joshua’s eyes widened; his face tinged with concern.

“Are you alright?” He questioned. “Did you get a Charlie horse?”

“N-No, I’m fine, really.” You composed yourself with a weak smile, and took a sip from your wine. “I got one of those rib pains.”

The blonde boy winced. “Ouch, those hurt big time.”

Honestly, you didn’t think it was possible to endure dessert without revealing to some degree that you were being, well, stretched open by Jeonghan. It was sheer torture staring at the waiter while he took your order, knowing the boy was lazily pumping his fingers inside you with a half-smirk seated so comfortably to his face. When that huge, delicious slice of cream red velvet cake was placed before you on the table, you could only fork a few pathetic bites, and when Joshua offered you to try a spoonful from his warm apple pudding, you nearly squealed the word no as Jeonghan rolled your sore clit between his fingertips. The most egregious aspect to the entire daubable was that the boy stripped your orgasm from you at the very last second, like stopping a rollercoaster just before it tips over the downhill plummet.

“How was the ice cream?” Joshua asked him innocently.

You observed with horror as Jeonghan brought that sinful hand to his mouth, lapping his tongue against his two fingertips as though he were actually savouring a sweet and flavourful vanilla.

“Delicious.” He grinned, catching your mortified stupor from the corner of his eye. “I’d taste it again in a heartbeat, Shua.”

Dropping the slice of bread into a shallow bowl, you used the spatula to submerge it underneath the milk, egg and cinnamon mixture until it was completely coated. Then, you slid the bread onto your buttered frying pan to let its surfaces crisp and brown. Since you began utilizing the service granted by the Love Café, life at your depressing excuse for an apartment was becoming more bearable, though your ultimate goal would be to ditch the paper-thin walls and insult-spewing neighbours once money was no longer a prevalent issue. You were still insistent on supporting yourself too, if you could ever score a job.

You flipped the bread onto its opposite face, pressing it down with the spatula as the pan sizzled and the butter popped. A few days had passed since your last intimacy with Jeonghan, and the proof would have been stamped to your Love Card if the boy had actually written his initials like usual. The thing was, Jeonghan – who had always been so firm and unwavering on the rules of the café – was now skirting about the regulations as though they were optional. There were days when he didn’t even initial the card, but still delivered his transactions. In fact, you were almost positive that sex had happened more than twelve times and that you could be renewing your card if wanted (you didn’t).

As silly and cliché as it sounded, you liked Jeonghan. You constantly thought about him and missed him and wondered what he was doing while you were trapped in bed listening to another argument between your spiteful neighbours. There was always a deep, electric pounding in your chest upon weaving the tips of your fingers along his skin, touching him, exploring him. Yet, when he held you close, tucked your body tight against his like there was nothing surrounding you but ice, comfort found a home in your belly like a warm, homecooked meal.

After spilling some icing sugar and strawberries across the toast, now fried a delicious shade of golden-brown, you took a seat at the counter and dug in. There had been an occasion where Jeonghan brought you breakfast after warping your legs into complete gelatine (you had no idea that kitchen table sex could be so fiery and passionate), which proved to be a pleasant morning, where you could still feel the softness of his thumb as he kindly brushed some whipped cream from your bottom lip. You sighed, sticking a strawberry into your mouth. How foolish it might be to fall this far and this devotedly for someone like him.

But you didn’t want to stop yourself.

In fact, you reached for your phone across the counter, swiped into your messages, and decided to be bold. You texted him.

[ 9:29 AM ]: Hey! I know that I’m not supposed to send you anything unrelated to our business lol, but

[9:29 AM ]: Just wondering if you’re available to grab a coffee with me or something along those lines?

Setting the phone down and turning it over so you wouldn’t be tempted to helplessly wait for a notification, you continued eating. After scraping the last few pieces of toast and syrup around the plate, there was a vibration and a quick, ding! Strangely, you were starting to sweat.

[ Jeonghan | 9:34 AM ]: Sorry. In a lecture rn.

Of course, your surge of bravery immediately dehydrated, and you decided it was best to pretend that you hadn’t asked him anything at all – for your confidence’s sake. The next two hours were spent cleaning the kitchen, taking a short walk outside the complex to feel the Northern air refresh your face, and finally, a long bath, in which you nearly fell asleep and drowned as the steam lulled your eyes shut. While wrapping your body snug in that new, hot pink bath towel, you heard a knock at the door. You assumed it was the painter who occupied the room directly below yours, as you had borrowed his vacuum the night before, though you weren’t exactly raving at the thought of answering him in a towel.

However, by squinting through the fisheye lens, you were shocked (and greatly relieved) to discover that it wasn’t the middle-aged painter dressed in his splattered, dirty overalls, but Jeonghan.

And he was holding a drink.

You unlocked the door.

“Uh, hello after all. What are you doing here?”

He smiled at you and held up the cardboard cup, “my lecture ended, and I thought I’d do you a solid. Couldn’t remember if it was two sugars-one cream, or two creams-one sugar. So I tossed a coin.”

“What exactly was the result?” You giggled.

“Heads,” Jeonghan answered, “two sugars-one cream it is.”

“You’re lucky that’s correct.”

Accepting the warm cup from his hand, you set it carefully on the kitchen counter. When you returned to the door, Jeonghan was evidently ogling you. He really suited the image of a casual university student when he wasn’t dressed to gems and jewels in his sumptuous clothing.

“I knew the hot pink towel would look good on you.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not dropping it, so forget it.”

“Whoa,” he chuckled, shaking his head, “I didn’t ask you to drop it, sweetheart. I’d rather you not actually, with this door wide open and everything.”

“Did I really just hear that from you, Mr, Dinner Table?” Folding your arms, you stared him down with an accusing expression.

He held up one finger in defense. “First of all, that was under the table, so unless someone bumped their fork or something, then we were pretty much safe. This is you dropping your whole towel right in the doorway like there isn’t a weirdo probably peeping you across the hall as we speak. And I’m not letting anyone look at you like that, ever.”

“Fine,” you sighed, hoping he couldn’t spot the flustered heart pumping your chest beneath the towel, “you’ve made your point.”

Jeonghan checked his silver wrist watch, “fuck. I gotta get going, need to be at the studio so I can be a taper dummy again.”

“Oh, okay,” you nodded, “talk to y—”

Suddenly, the boy was cupping each side of your face in his hands, and his lips pressed soft but quick to your forehead. Jeonghan then pinched your thigh under the towel, a gesture which felt oddly endearing rather than sexual, before he left the corridor.

“Later!” He’d called.

Shutting the door, you returned to your seat at the counter, holding the coffee cup up to your mouth as you took a small, nervous sip.

How could you let yourself fall this easily for him?

Jeonghan’s washroom was somehow nicer than your entire apartment, and you were fairly certain that your eyes had never seen so much white-grey marble, all squeaky-clean and aglow with lights. He’d shot you a text roughly an hour ago, right after he was released from the painful effort required to keep Joshua’s peewee soccer players in check, wondering if you were available to come over. Of course, the innocence to the term ‘come over’ was nothing more than a euphemism, a means of sugar coating what Jeonghan actually intended: to be inside you no doubt. And since the boy was so drained and unwilling to instigate any work himself, Jeonghan decided that a steaming, hot bath should do.

Well – a bath which involved you seated on his dick. The tub was dark grey tile, square-shaped, and practically the size of a small jacuzzi. It even had a bench to sit on. While it had been difficult at first to simply cockwarm the boy – when all you could feel was how deeply he spearheaded into your sensitive spot and how this shock would ripple from your abdomen at even his gentlest movement– you knew he wasn’t looking to make things quick and temporary. Therefore, you settled into his lap, wrapping your arms around Jeonghan’s neck while his circled your waist beneath the water. Both of you were starting to fall asleep.

“Jeonghan,” you whispered, lifting your head from his shoulder, only to remember that you were indeed naked and this heat lapping around you was definitely not a blanket, “can I tell you something?”

With his eyes still shut, he nodded, his fingers digging appreciatively at your hips. “Of course you can, baby.” He replied, his voice sounding deeper than usual as he orientated on the edges of sleep.

Smiling, you combed through the damp hairs at his nape, your voice reverberating like a musical instrument off the marble. “Remember the salon place? They called me two days ago, said they had an opening for me and that I could start next Monday. I… I wanted to text you about it, like, as soon as it happened. But I wasn’t sure if I should.”

“What? Really?” Jeonghan was staring at you now, his head straightened from its leisurely position against the edge of the tub and cocked with interest. The fact he seemed so intrigued, that you could read the genuine excitement building up in those brown eyes, had almost made you happier than the salon’s phone call. “Congratulations!” He leaned forward to kiss you, pecking your lips chastely the first time, and then slower come the second, his hands squeezing your thighs.

After a tiny laugh, you sighed contentedly. “Thank you. It’s going to be so nice having my own cashflow and everything. And if I can work my way up and become like, a kickass hair stylist? Can you imagine?”

“Should I grow my hair out more so you can practice cutting it? You’ve got a steady hand, don’t you?” Jeonghan asked, mostly teasing, as you could imagine his parents harping him during his next session at Opal Studio if he looked as though he’d ran through some hedge clippers.

Returning the affection, you kissed the rosy tip of his nose. “I think my hands are pretty steady. We’ll find out I guess, and we’ll know for sure if a huge chunk of your hair falls to the floor.”

Your laughter immediately mingled, and you hid your smile against the boy’s neck, a very moonstruck, loopy smile which felt like riding a blazing comet between the stars. If you were legitimately able to climb higher amongst the business, then you could picture a life in which you didn’t need to lean on Jeonghan and the Love Café for financial support. In fact, there were moments where you felt rather dirty using his money even when he was completely insistent on such matters, like buying food and paying off bills. You held tight to a certain hope, that you could become independent again, and maybe, just maybe, be able to keep this beautiful boy whom you once thought would hate you.

His fingers tapped up your spine, urging you to face him.

“Seriously,” Jeonghan said, “I’m happy for you.”

“I know,” you answered, so quietly he could hardly hear it.

And then, you decided to kiss Jeonghan, placing your damp hand upon his cheek while your mouths slotted together. The contact had lost its grace almost instantly, and the kiss turned from a sweet gesture to a sensuality so thick you could feel it swelter the air and pool between your legs. He offered his tongue for you to suckle by sliding it smoothly into your mouth, and from there, Jeonghan’s intended relaxation had vanished. His hands grazed to the front of your body, reaching up and sliding back and forth over each breast. It wasn’t until Jeonghan began massaging his thumbs in circular motions around your nipples that you moaned into his mouth, a sound which flicked a smirk to his face.

Once his lips were shiny and slick with your saliva, he moved each kiss down the side of your neck, now pinching at your nipples, even twisting gently and making sure to ease the dull throb by rubbing them afterward. It was becoming unbearable. You needed to move. However, the second you started a rhythm in Jeonghan’s lap, he shook his head.

“Be still,” he told you, lightly gripping your chin.

The desperation in your whine was horribly apparent, almost soaking each word. “No Jeonghan, I-I can’t do that anymore—” ignoring him, you continued to grind your hips and move the water around you, feeling his engorged head tick against that one spot of insane pleasure, “I need t’cum now, all over your cock.” With every bounce in his lap, you begged, “please, please, please.” This prompted Jeonghan to grab your waist much tighter than usual and slam you down, holding you still.

“No, not like that,” he grunted, and you wondered if his control was simply otherworldly or if he was just that talented at hiding how good he felt. “I’ll make you cum, sweetheart,” Jeonghan nodded, “but you can’t move. I just want you to sit there, all the way down.”

He then leaned in close to your face, nearly pressing his forehead to yours, and that’s when you felt his thumb brush with a featherlight, fleeting touch across your clit. The sudden stimulation jerked your body. Jeonghan bit his lip and grinned while continuing the sensitive touch, the pressure becoming heavier with each minute that passed. Your thighs started to tremble, and your moans were echoing around the washroom.

The honeyed dirty talk crawled up Jeonghan’s throat. “You’re such a cute little cocksleeve, sweetheart,” he purred, titling his head as he rubbed his thumb faster, “oh, look at you, baby. Shaking and crying and taking it like it’s the only thing you’re good for—” a messy kiss to calm you down, thin strings of saliva hanging in the air each time your mouths separated, “I bet you’re gonna cum for me soon, right?” The boy encouraged, keeping his forehead flush to yours so he could observe with utmost clarity the beautiful contortions of your face. “I know you are, sweetheart. Because it feels so good, right?” You nodded frantically, digging your fingers into his neck like a cat sinking in its claws. Jeonghan’s thumb pushed beneath the hood of your clit, directly massaging the soft bud, and the pleasure inside you leapt to a new high which made you dumbly lose all sense.

“Cum.” Jeonghan commanded so gently, his gaze burning against your eyes, squeezed shut. At the straightforward word, you allowed the sensation to swallow you like a current, and the hot, teary cry you mewled had been quickly snuffed as the boy pushed his lips to yours.

“Can feel you clenching so fucking tight around my cock,” he chuckled, digging his nose into your hair and speaking warmly beside your ear, “and how much you’re throbbing right under my thumb. Must feel so good, sweetheart, cumming all over me like such a good girl.”

You slumped against him, overwhelmed, emptied, and breathing so heavy that you were afraid the oxygen might dwindle completely from your lungs. The fact Jeonghan could remain so composed while buried to the hilt in your heat was something else that frightened you, though, in the moment, you preferred not to think about it, instead concentrating on the distant sensation of Jeonghan drawing galactic shapes to each your shoulder blades.

Hopefully, he’d let you stay the night.

Once you started the receptionist job at the hair salon, you had bumped into Joshua on a Friday evening. While his platinum blonde look was indeed enchanting and princely, he complained that it was difficult to maintain the roots, and that he often found himself back in the stylist’s chair for a touch up. He’d come in on a whim. Luckily – due to the late hour – there was an open seat, and Joshua puffed a great sigh of relief as he hooked his jacket onto the salon coat hanger. Curious if there was more behind the reason to his abrupt appearance, you conversed with him while he waited for the stylist to tidy up her work area.

That’s when Joshua informed you of the Opal’s Galleria Night, a fashion exhibition which would display Mr. Yoon’s newest edition for his upcoming Spring line. Joshua seemed surprised that you hadn’t known about the Galleria, or, that Jeonghan hadn’t mentioned it to you. Oddly enough, Jeonghan had been radio silent the past three days; not a phone call, or a voice memo, or even a text. Yesterday you had hoped to catch him stuck in the books at the library, but the area where he usually sat was occupied by a study group of freshman. It concerned you a little.

An ungraceful quickie in the washroom after his three-hour lecture ended on Tuesday was your last encounter. Not to mention, there was only one more opening left on your Love Card.

“He didn’t say anything,” you told Joshua, pretending to act indifferent “so… I don’t think he wants me there. It’s not a big deal.”

Yet, that’s not how you truly felt. There had to be some reason for the boy’s keeping you in the dark. Did he not want to explain the ‘friends’ trope to all the Galleria members, like at the dinner? Or, was he thinking that you wouldn’t be interested? It wasn’t easy to seem unphased.

“Jeonghan doesn’t need to invite you,” Joshua had said, “cause I’ll invite you myself. Mr. Yoon said it was more than fine if I brought someone along. So, why not you? It’ll make the night more fun.”

At first, you vehemently rejected the invite, no matter how sweetly Joshua attempted to rope you into a night of free perfume samples, delicious catering food and a chocolate fountain perfect for dipping strawberries. However, when the hair stylist pulled Joshua away to fix his darkening roots, you had much time to mull over the offer, and even the fact you felt poignant about dismissing it. As you tapped a pen against the desk, staring out the window into the grey, dulling sky, you convinced yourself there could be no harm in attending the Opal’s Galleria Night. Besides, you and Jeonghan weren’t cast in stone. He probably wouldn’t bat any eyelash anyways, knowing his eased nature.

And so, you caught Joshua just before he left.

You told him you’d changed your mind.

When Jeonghan first saw you at the Opal Galleria, it was from across the ballroom that had been temporarily converted into an exhibition space, stood next to a mannequin draped in a cherub-pink slip dress. Almost comically, he gagged on some sparkling champagne held in a thin and tall glass, though he recovered smoothly as to not interrupt the conversation his father was sharing with the dense crowd. You waved at him, not too noticeably of course, but he either didn’t catch it or had decided to ignore the gesture. Shrugging, you tried not to overthink it.

Mannequins were lined up along both sides of the ballroom, adorned in the mild tones baring semblance to Spring, with the blips of baby blues, clementine oranges, and cream violets transforming the Galleria into an acrylic painting. Jeonghan’s mother took the opportunity to offer some spritzes from her most recent line, which had both you and Joshua smelling like a tulip garden. While exploring the room with the blonde boy, you stopped to examine a mannequin dressed in a relaxed, high-waisted pant and a lace camisole that seemed breezy and flowing. This collection was definitely tamer compared to the usual extravagance you had always seen through the store windows and in magazines.

“Would you wear it?” Joshua asked, chewing on a strawberry that he might as well have plucked from thin air.

Tilting your head and squinting, you took a moment to contemplate. “If it was my size I might, if I could find a price hanging off somewhere. But I don’t want to even touch it. Mannequins are weird.”

“No prices are usually displayed at the Gallerias,” Joshua informed you, “though, I will agree. It’s probably a Toy Story thing where they all start moving at night when no one’s here. Spooky, huh?”

You sighed at him, “thanks for the nightmare material.”

Suddenly, there was a tap to your bare shoulder, and you nearly yelped like a cat with a stepped-on tail as Joshua laughed between bites from his juicy strawberry. Turning around, you were met with Jeonghan, who had this flat-lined, unenthusiastic smile hardly touching the corners of his mouth. He looked rather agitated in fact, and you felt cold inside.

“Hey!” Joshua exclaimed, punching his friend’s arm. “Finally escape your dad’s novella-length speech on the pink slip?”

The crowd once gathered around the mannequin had started to disperse, with the visitors now exploring the rest of the outfits.

Jeonghan hardly payed any mind to his friend, throwing out an impatient, “yeah, it was whatever,” before he began questioning you. He started with a rather inhospitable, “why are you here?”

“I invited her,” Joshua announced, “since I ran into her at that salon place. I thought it would be nice and everything. The Gallerias can get pretty stiff if you come alone. Plus, there’s chocolate fountains.”

He appeared nettled, like he’d woken up and spilled coffee on his favourite shirt. You couldn’t place the exact emotion, nor could you identify the reason behind Jeonghan acting as though there were one-hundred choice words waiting to zap off the tip of his tongue. For an instant, you wondered if it would be worthwhile to question him, though there was a shout of the boy’s name and you spotted his parents beckoning him over from across the exhibition. Jeonghan merely rolled his eyes, disappearing just as quickly as he’d arrived to accompany them.

You folded your arms concerningly. “Do you know if something’s wrong? I haven’t seen him like that before.”

Joshua dropped the rest of the strawberry into his mouth. “He’s probably stressing over something. I wouldn’t worry too much. He’s not really one to blow up or get all in your face. I’ll talk to him later.”

Seeing as there were others who wanted to examine the camisole mannequin, you and Joshua seated yourselves at a tiny table right beside the chocolate fountain and catering foods. Though, you were unable to quell the curiosity at what Jeonghan was needed for, prompting your eyes to wander as unnaturally as possible in his direction. He’d just pulled a young woman into a hug, and she was positively gorgeous, dressed in a silk-fabric dress, form fitting and ruby red, with an elegant slit parting up to her right thigh. Her ponytail was slicked shiny as though her hair had been styled professionally, and she flaunted a dreamy smile that reminded you of a vintage female heroine.

And then, like a slap to the face, you realized she must be the woman whom Jeonghan’s parents seemed to be obsessed over.

Baejin, his ex-girlfriend.

She mentioned something into his ear, and they became giggly, the two pulling in again for another short hug. Jeonghan’s father gestured back to the pink slip mannequin, and the four walked over to discuss it for the umpteenth time. You wondered if she was going to be modeling some of the clothing. The assumption felt correct as Baejin touched the dress’ delicate fabric and the beaded, glimmering string tied around the tiny waist. Quickly, Jeonghan fetched the girl a champagne glass, the two drinking together while the father appeared to be entering another in-depth explanation. And, perhaps dignifiedly so, you were feeling mislead and upset. You speculated if this could be the reason for him to keep the Opal Galleria a secret – Jeonghan didn’t want you to catch even a glimpse of him reuniting with Baejin.

They hardly portrayed two ex’s who were now settled on different chapters to their lives. The longer you stared, the angrier, yet, more confused you felt. As you thought before, the odd relationship between you and Jeonghan was not set in stone, and it certainly didn’t ignite with the intention of actual love taking a blossom to your doorstep. It could be that you were jumping to conclusions, misreading things, or disillusioned by your tendency to wishfully think. Nonetheless, the sight still hurt.

Joshua bumped your elbow.

“Are you hungry at all? The scent from the catering tables is getting to me. I can grab a plate for you, if you want.”

With a sigh and a fragile smile, you shook your head. “No, I’ll come with you. Besides, you don’t know what I like anyways.”

“Fair enough.” Joshua agreed.

He stuck out his hand for you to take while rising from the chair.

Grabbing a small plate, you started at the end of the catering table and began making your way down, using the plastic tongs to serve yourself some spring rolls. Joshua filed after you, instead taking a bowl and scooping up some of the fresh zucchini pasta. Admittedly, you had lost your appetite after watching Jeonghan act so cordially with Baejin, though you were determined to not let the plight sour the otherwise enjoyable night you were having with Joshua. Once you reached the chocolate fountain, you swore a sparkle jumped into his eye.

“Why are you so obsessed with the fountain?” You had tried not to laugh as you asked the question.

The blonde boy looked aghast. “Because, it’s beautiful!” He picked up a strawberry arranged neatly around the base, dipping the edge briefly beneath the chocolate. “I mean, how can they make it so delicious and velvety? When I came to my first Galleria, I spent like, half my night just standing by the fountain, eating the fruit.”

You couldn’t help but think Joshua was adorable, and you grinned at him, “well, maybe I don’t have as much of a sweet tooth.”

“Just shush up and try this.”

He held out the strawberry, inviting you for a taste. At first, you paused, wondering if there was some flirtatious intention behind the gesture or if Joshua was just being his overtly kind self. And then, you held onto his wrist and took a bite from the strawberry, the warmth of the melted chocolate satin-smooth against your tongue.

Wiping the edge of your mouth, you nodded. “It is pretty tasty, actually. Let me try dipping it. You make it look weirdly fun.”

After setting down the catering plate, you took Joshua’s strawberry while he picked up a new one. Together, you pushed your fruits beneath the streaming chocolate, twisting it at the green leaf to fully coat the sides. So it wouldn’t drip, you immediately took a huge bite with a hand placed just below your mouth, humming contentedly.

“Okay,” you mumbled, still chewing, “I can see why you like this so much. I think I could get addicted to chocolate strawberry dipping.”

“Me too,” Joshua chuckled, “oh! Look, there’s whipped cream here and I didn’t even see it!” He set down his plate beside yours and grabbed the bottle like an eager little child. Popping off the cap, Joshua shook the can and pressed his fingertip against the nozzle, spraying a white-frosted peak onto the top of another strawberry. You copied him, though you had accidently sprayed too much. Once you licked the cream off your finger, you poked the entire fruit into your mouth like a funfetti-sized cupcake. For some reason, Joshua started giggling at you.

“What?” You glared at him playfully. “What’s wrong?”

Rosy tinges flushed to the arch of Joshua’s cheeks. “Uhm… Well, l-let me just—” he stuttered, cupping his hand gently to your face, his thumb brushing at a spot right below your bottom lip. “You had some whipped cream on your… chin slash lip. Sorry about that.”

“O-Oh, it’s okay.” You were stumbling yourself, tongue darting out instinctively to ensure there wasn’t anything still there.

At random, you felt this prickle tiptoe up the back of your neck, a sensation that was hardly perceptible yet singeing enough for you to notice it. Gulping, you peered toward that faceless mannequin draped in its pink slip dress, toward Jeonghan, Baejin, and his parents who were enthralled in a conversation with her. Jeonghan was glaring so blatantly at Joshua that you’d forgotten how to speak, and you couldn’t even pronounce a single word of warning as the boy started storming his way across the ballroom.

His grip was on your elbow like a viper’s teeth.

“Geez, where’d you come from?” Joshua said, though he was able to note the tension this time, and Jeonghan’s surly behaviour.

“I need to talk to you,” Jeonghan murmured by your ear, ignoring Joshua yet again, “in the hall just outside the exhibition.”

You didn’t want to agree. Strangely enough, you felt this urge balloon inside you, an urge to cause a gigantic scene with screaming and thick tears and unnecessary curses, because as much as you wanted to dismiss your anger, there were jealous, wronged feelings inside, on fire and itching to escape from your gut. Miraculously, you held your composure, and announced to Joshua that you’d talk to him later.

Jeonghan then tore you into the empty hallway.

It was like a lightning bolt, how quickly he exploded.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jeonghan ranted, pacing back and forth as the distant echo of music bled through the wall. “Seriously, I don’t text you back for like, three days, and you’re already going on a date with my best friend—” he softened his voice in a purposefully mocking way, “letting him get all delicate with you, feeding you all lovey-dovey style and wiping that cream off your lip. Did you think I wouldn’t see it?”

“Excuse me?” Your brow instantly creased like a folded map, and you felt an intense ache hit the front of your skull. “Um, you’re one to talk! How come you didn’t tell me about the Galleria? Because you didn’t want me to see you with your arm around your ex’s waist? Because you don’t think I’m good enough to show off to your parents?”

Jeonghan gawked at you. “Baejin? For real? You think I’ve been secretly dating her behind your back or something?”

“How am I supposed to know?” You barked, tucking your arms defensively across the chest. And, while it might have been too early into the argument to pit such a statement, you had already started bubbling, and you knew there was nothing to snuff your fire. “Besides, you hardly ever get back to me apart from when you want to fuck!”

At that, the boy was momentarily stumped. What sounded like a rebuttal fizzled at the back of his throat, though it faded away. The silence worried you, because it echoed a confirmation that Jeonghan might’ve actually never seen as you as anything more than an outlet to alleviate his carnality. That, once the Love Café ordeal was finally over with, he could forget you had ever existed like erasing a mistake of smudged lead. The thought made you glassy-eyed and thus, terribly vulnerable. However, you also craved the truth to your relationship.

“Just admit it,” you beseeched him, “admit that you want me only for sex and nothing else. Is that why you didn’t bring up the Galleria? Because you think it’s easier to shove me in the dark when it’s convenient for you? Is that why you were acting so mad?”

He skimmed a hand exasperatedly through his hair. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m not dating Baejin behind your back, I have never once thought you weren’t good enough to show off to my parents, and I didn’t purposefully hide the Galleria from you.”

“Right,” you scoffed, “but you’re fine with labelling me as a friend and pretending like we don’t hook up every week.”

“It’s…” he clenched his teeth and growled in frustration, “it’s complicated, alright? Can’t you just accept that?”

“Complicated?” A shudder coursed down your spine at having to repeat the boy, and the tears sprung from your eyes with such a sharp sting that it became impossible to hold them back. You felt each drop, cold and runny, drip along your face. “That’s the word you’re going to use? You’re going to look straight at me, after the entire span of our relationship since the Love Café, and tell me we’re summed up best as complicated?” Again, the word struck you like a stiff punch. If he was going to regard your connection so trivially, then you didn’t care whether or not he knew the verity of your heart. Like it would affect him anyways.

“I would’ve said we were in love,” you shrugged, watching his expression drop in a mere instant, “but—sure, let’s call it complicated.”

And, with the tears shining like salt stars on your face, you stalked out the building into the softening winter weather.

You didn’t know it could be so difficult to ignore someone, especially when you were supposed to hate them. The effect Jeonghan had on you was almost phantom-like; a constant lingering, even if the boy himself wasn’t palpable and poised right before your eyes.

It had been three days since the outburst at the Galleria. That night, you cried, and wept, and broke out the amber bottle stored beneath your sink which was only sipped from in occasions of complete misery – very well suited to the situation at hand. You had questioned calling the Love Café’s customer service desk to issue a termination of your card, and, at one point, you were standing drunkenly by the toilet contemplating your decision to rip up the red paper and flush it. Though, nothing ever came of either idea. Instead, you faceplanted onto your bed and allowed the intoxicated dizziness to fade black. The next morning, you were faced with multiple texts from Jeonghan, missed phone calls, voice notes. But you didn’t listen or respond to anything.

Complicated. That was the word you kept hearing.

Absolutely not, you had thought that morning, you weren’t ready to speak with him, even if the temptation seemed like it could be promising. The air was still too bitter. And you couldn’t handle another argument.

On the second day after the outburst, you were seated at the receptionist desk in the salon, flicking through a magazine while you became increasingly mindless to the humming of the blow dryer and the potent fragrance of the hair products. When you glanced out the window, you nearly combusted, as both Joshua and Jeonghan were about to enter the salon together, hurrying in from the melted snow and winter’s final downpour. You hid in the breakroom until they left, forcing your co-worker to take your position at the desk. Joshua was apparently getting his hair trimmed while Jeonghan had asked about you at the reception.

“He’s gorgeous!” Your co-worker had immediately gushed to you in the breakroom. “Why are you avoiding someone like that?”

“It’s complicated.” You’d phrased it simply.

Dang it. You hated the fact you’d used that stupid word.

But, on the third day, most of your bitterness was gone.

After breakfast, you were back at the vanity mirror to prepare for work, and while you buffed some makeup to sit seamlessly on the skin with your puffy foundation brush, there was a knock at your door. This time, you didn’t bother peeping through the fisheye lens, because you knew exactly who it was – damn his persistence. Jeonghan’s brown hair had been slightly mused in the wind, and there was a glow as soft as a peach to each his cheeks. But that easygoing, relaxed smile was by far the most heart fluttering. He extended a coffee cup to you. When you reached out, Jeonghan suddenly pulled the coffee away with a tsking sound.

“You can have it only if—” he held up his finger, “you agree to let me in so I can explain myself. Yes, I’m bribing you. And yes, I’m an asshole from time to time. But five minutes at least. That’s all I need.”

For a moment, you wavered, only to mutter a resounding, “fine.”

Despite Jeonghan’s company, you still had work to get ready for, so the boy followed you into the bedroom. He took a seat on the edge of your mattress while you settled back into the vanity chair. Picking through your jar of makeup brushes, you plucked a round, oval-tipped one to apply your eyeshadow. Jeonghan was silent at first, watching you through the mirror as you hurried about the look. It wasn’t perfect, in fact it was a bit sloppy and rushed and there was already some fallout sitting like a glittered dust on your cheeks, though Jeonghan was staring at you with such fondness, you wondered if the mirror was reflecting the same image. Of course, the Love Card was sitting on your desk too.

“Well,” you spun around in the chair, pressing your lips together, “I’m waiting for you to explain, y’know. Like you said you would. Technically, you’ve lost a couple minutes, and I should really try to be at the salon early, but I’m still going to give you full time since—"

“I love you.”

“… What?”

“I love you,” Jeonghan repeated himself casually, a slow smile spilling from each corner of his mouth, “I’m in love with you, as deep as I could be, I think. Anyways, you want me to keep saying it? I love you.”

It felt like someone had taken a picture with the blinding glare of its flash, a picture you couldn’t be more unprepared for, the dots still dancing and fumbling across your vision. The moment was disorienting, but you experienced a very fulgurant warmth take shape inside you. It was comforting yet daunting, a sugar rush and a hangover, something so alive you knew you wanted it more than anything else in the world.

Yet, “you… are in love with me?” was all that you could express.

Jeonghan fiddled with the coffee cup in his hands. “You’re a funny girl, you know that? But I can say it a fifth time if you want.”

“N-No, I—I just, I wasn’t expecting—”

“Yeah, I can see that, “ he’d laughed, though it quickly fell into a sigh and suddenly Jeonghan’s temperament had shifted. “Look, I know that night wasn’t pretty. I know I ghosted you. I know I didn’t tell you about the stupid Galleria,” the boy glanced up, catching your eye, “but… I didn’t say anything because I was confused. I knew your Love Card only had one signature left, and just like that… you could be in my bed for the last time. If we’re really gonna get sentimental about it,”

Jeonghan chuckled, scratching his chin a bit shyly, “it could be my last time holding you, and kissing you… I just, I didn’t want it to be like that. But I didn’t know how to confront you about it, so I hid. And I stressed myself out, and I got so stupidly jealous and angry when I saw you with Joshua. That was my bad. I should’ve been upfront.”

Tucking your hands together anxiously in your lap, you nodded, beginning to understand the missing pieces.

“Thank you for saying that.” You murmured, tapping your feet in a nervous rhythm against the floor. “I… I was being unreasonable and jealous too,” you subsequently admitted, “I was assuming things about you and Baejin when I shouldn’t have. I don’t know what I was expecting anyways, that you act like she doesn’t exist? It was dumb, and I was adding pressure. I’m sorry too.” Wanting to lighten the tone, you smiled at him, “I guess we both have our flaws, huh?”

He returned the tender glance and held out the coffee cup.

“I guess we do.”

You grabbed it politely.

Turning around in the chair, you grabbed the bright red Love Card off the vanity, initialed until its last circle, “what should we do with this? I mean, we kind of messed up their rules, fooling around more than twelve times. And, well, I’m not gonna renew it.”

“Oh, let me see.” Jeonghan said.

As soon as you passed the card to him, he ripped it clean in half, crumpled each piece, balled them together in his hands and tossed the shreds into the trash can sat in the corner.

“Well, that was fucking easy,” he smiled, getting up from the mattress, “aren’t you late for work? Do you need a drive?”

You looked at your alarm clock.

“If you can get me there in the next ten minutes, that’d be great.”

Jeonghan headed to the front door while you hurriedly grabbed your coat from the closet and snatched your bag off the floor, resting the strap over your shoulder. With the coffee still in hand, you headed into the living area, looking around in one final swoop to make sure you had everything packed for the day. A sheet of sunlight spilt into the room from outside the window, pale, like the morning sky, yet filling every crevice of the cheap apartment with a dull shine. And for a very fleeting moment, you thought this place wasn’t so abhorrent. It had been your home, your stepping stone, a thumbprint which identified a period of hardship and growth. But, despite this bittersweet taste on your tongue, you couldn’t envision yourself staying.

“Come on,” Jeonghan pinched your hip, “at this rate I’ll get a speeding ticket trying to get you to work on time.”

Turning around, you stuck a kiss to the boy’s cheek, just catching the cool beginning of a smirk on that dazzling face of his as you interlaced your fingers and pulled him into the corridor.

No, you could not stay here.

Not when your future was with Jeonghan.

✧✎ a/n: yeah, so this was clearly A LOT longer than the original love café teehee. i remembered the plot vaguely therefore i refused to reread my first version weufhewif PLS IT MAKES ME CONVULSE SO BAD !! i just had to rewrite the plot and do it some actual justice! i hope this version is a lot better and that you rly enjoyed it! i wish yjh would give me money but i guess we can’t all live in a fantasy world!! thx for reading!!

#caratwritersclub #jeonghan scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt fanfic #jeonghan fanfic #seventeen smut #jeonghan smut #seventeen jeonghan #svt smut #yoon jeonghan #svt x reader #jeonghan x reader

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imaginesfordifferentfandoms · 3 years

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It's Going To Be You

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Prompt - I knew I did from that first moment we met. It was…not love at first sight exactly, but - familiarity. Like: oh, hello, it’s you. It’s going to be you.

—————————————————–

Spencer Reid knew from the moment he laid eyes on you that you were something else, he could tell from one glance that you would change his life. No words needed to be exchanged for the man to be completely and utterly taken by you. He watched as you walked through the door, though your head was held high, shoulders pushed back giving the impression of complete confidence, he saw the way you fiddled with the strap of your bag with one hand. When he looked at your other hand he could see your forefinger picking at your thumb, clearly a nervous habit. He watched as you looked around the room, watched as Rossi made his way over to you, guiding you over to Hotch’s office with a smile.

“Down, pretty boy.” Derek grinned as Spencer startled, his head snapping around to face Derek just as you entered Hotch’s office. “I’ve never seen that look on your face and you don’t even know her name.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Spencer replied, cringing at how unconvincing he sounded.

He turned away from Derek and tried to focus on his paperwork but he could stop his eyes from straying over to the closed office door every few minutes much to Derek and Rossi’s amusement.

“Who is she anyway?” Derek asked.

“She’s lucky number ten,” Rossi told them, smothering a smile as Spencer looked over, “who knew finding another agent would be so difficult.”

“Wait,” another voice interrupted, “there’s a new person here? Is she nice? Why is that always my first question?” The group laughed as Penelope quizzed Rossi.

“Listen, I know as much as you people.” He said and before anyone else could speak Penelope was being handed a folder causing them all to groan.

“Agent Hotchner?” You asked as you were granted access to the office.

Hotch stood as you walked in, moving around his desk to hold a hand out to you.

“Yes and you’re Y/F/N Y/L/N, I presume?” He asked, smiling slightly at you as you nodded, still fiddling with your bag. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, please have a seat.”

“Thank you sir.” You smiled, taking a seat in the offered chair watching as he made his way back behind his desk.

“Your supervisor spoke very highly of you when I spoke with him, your success rate is impressive.” Hotch praised, glancing down at the file in front of him. “Your latest case seemed rather difficult, are you sure you’re ready to be back in the field again?”

“I passed all my psychiatric exams, I was cleared to return.” You told him stiffly.

“I’m aware of your results, I just want to be sure you’re ready. Infiltrating yourself into the life of Douglas Miller couldn’t have been an easy feat.” Hotch watched as a look of satisfaction took over your face.

“I’m ready, sir.” You told him, relaxing slightly. “It was a tough case, I’ll be the first to admit that seeing what I saw had an impact but I can do this.”

Hotch smiled at you before closing the folder.

“I believe you,” he said, “I think you’ll be a valuable addition to this team.”

The words were what you were hoping to hear, you’d wanted a job with the BAU for longer than you could remember but you paused. Surely it wasn’t that easy, right?

“Wait? That’s it?” You asked.

“That’s it.” Hotch confirmed, fighting back a smile at your expression.

“But- but I’ve been here less than five minutes.” You countered back, there were so many emotions going on within you that you felt slightly overwhelmed.

“Y/N, ever since your name was put forward I looked into your work and I was impressed. Your skills at undercover work are far above what I’ve seen in a long time, that alone would be an incredibly useful assest to the team but on top of that your ability to connect and empathise with unsubs, fast thinking and your profiling skills- trust me, you deserve this job and I have complete faith in you.” Hotch’s words had left you speechless, you had no clue how to respond but thankfully you didn’t have to as the door was pushed open and both you and Hotch turned to look at the brightly dressed woman in the doorway.

“I’m sorry to interrupt sir but we have a case.” The woman said and Hotch stood gesturing for you to follow.

“You have a to go bag?” He asked as you both walked out the door.

“Yes sir.” You nodded, still baffled by how well things had gone.

“Good, welcome to the team Y/L/N.”

“Everyone, this is SSA Y/F/N Y/L/N. I’m sure proper introductions can be made later.” Hotch said as the two of you entered the room before gesturing to Garcia that she could begin.

“Ok, yes, so, we have five bodies so far found in Wyoming. The first two bodies were hidden amongst some trees close to firehole bay. The ME presumes that the time of death was mostly likely a week ago but we should have full confirmation when you arrive. The victims, who we haven’t been able to identify yet, but I am working on it, were stripped completely and the wounds, that are in your files because I so do not need to see that, show heavy signs of torture. ” Garcia informed you all.

“The next body was a single male, again stripped and tortured and the ME says this death is most likely four to five days old. This body was found a few miles away from Basin Bay Point campsite.”

“Wait a second,” somebody interrupted, causing you to turn your head. There sat a man, younger than the rest of the team, he was…how you had missed him you didn’t know but now you felt like you couldn’t look away. “If I’m not mistaken those places are roughly twenty miles from each other at walking distance.”

“And driving distance?” An older man asked.

“I don’t think there is a way to drive to Basin Bay Point, especially not to where the body was left.” The younger man replied, looking down at the folder he was given with a frown.

“I’ll have a map ready for you on the plane.” Penelope assured him before continuing. “Now, the next two bodies were the most recent, ME says they were killed a day or two ago and these victims we have been able to identify as Taylor Gomez and her boyfriend Jack Gaskarth.” Penelope said as she brought their pictures up. “They were never reported missing because they had told friends and family they were going camping, which checks out because their bodies were found three miles away from Lewis Lake campground. They show the same wounds as the other vics.” Garcia explained.

You grimaced as you looked down at the tablet Hotch had passed you as you saw a young man and woman, naked with slices all across their bodies, as well as deep bruising to the neck.

“What was the CoD, Garcia?” The younger man spoke up again.

“ME still needs to run a full examination but her best bet is that it was asphyxiation.” She told him with a frown.

“That makes sense, there isn’t a lot of blood or scabbing which suggests they were done post mortem.”

“So what,” you spoke up, pausing for a moment when everyone turned to you, “the unsub blitz attacks the victims and kills them before torturing them? What’s the point in that?”

“It could be a number of things actually. Perhaps it’s not about the kills for him but more to do with the fascination of the human body, we’ve seen it before where curiosity leads to this kind of attack. It could also be that he has to kill, he has a compulsion to kill and once he’s given into that compulsion he gets to fulfil other urges. If I had to guess I’d say the victims are victims of opportunity-” The younger man rambled, his hands gesturing in front of him as he spoke causing you to smile.

“Because there is no set pattern, he crosses race and gender lines and there’s no secondary location.” You cut off the other man who looked at you with a grin.

“Exactly, the area is so isolated that he can get away with quick and easy killings but because it doesn’t seem like there’s a secondary location yet we have to presume that the torture is a means to satisfy himself when he can’t hold his victims hostage.”

“It’s a long flight and this unsub doesn’t appear to be slowing down. Wheels up in fifteen.” Hotch said as he stood up, everyone was quick to follow until it was just you and the guy you had spoken to left.

“Hi.” He said, causing you to turn around with a smile.

“Hi.”

“I’m Spencer, Spencer Reid.” He introduced himself.

“Y/F/N Y/L/N, nice to meet you.” You replied, reaching out your hand to shake his, your eyebrows pulling together slightly as he shook his head.

“Sorry, I don’t um,” He said, causing you to drop your hand and nod understandingly, “it’s nothing against you, just…germs.” He trailed off, berating himself in his head.

“No problem.” You smiled again, god that smile. Spencer felt his heart race.

“Congratulations on joining the team.” He praised as the two of you walked out of the round table room.

“Thank you, I’ve wanted this for so long.” He watched as the smile fell from your face before you shook your head slightly.

“Is everything ok?” He asked, understanding the nerves. He couldn’t help but glance down, almost smiling as he saw you picking at your thumb.

“Yeah, I’m just, what if I mess up?” You couldn’t help but ask. After wanting this job for as long as you had, all the hard nights and long days spent training you were finally here and you’d be damned if you screwed everything up.

“You won’t, Hotch wouldn’t have hired you if he didn’t think you were good enough, trust me. I think you’ll be amazing.” He told you, flushing slightly at his own words and the soft smile that replaced the frown on your face.

“Thank you Spencer.” You replied softly and before he could respond the rest of the team was calling for the two of you to head to the air strip.

On the plane you were properly introduced to everyone as you took a seat next to Spencer, sitting opposite Hotch and Rossi. On the table in front of you Spencer had both a map of the US and a smaller map of Wyoming. You watched his fingers trace invisible lines as his eyebrows knitted together.

You were trying not to stare, really you were, but there was just something about the man that made you want to get to know him.

Thankfully before anyone noticed your eyes glancing at Spencer every few moments, the man himself spoke.

“Guys, if you map out where the five victims were found,” Spencer began, circling three places on the map as he did, “it looks like the victims might have been hiking the continental divide trail.”

“Pretty boy, isn’t that trail like thousands of miles long?” Morgan asked, watching as Spencer nodded, pushing the little map of Wyoming out of the way for a moment and drawing a line down the map of the US.

“This is the continental divide trail, it’s 3,300 miles long and it’s actually quite difficult to hike. These people had to have been exceptionally fit and healthy which further backs up the theory that these were blitz attacks. You can go days without seeing other people when hiking the trail and most hikers have to give up because of lack of supplies or needing urgent medical care from injuries and illnesses they attract. A part of the Wyoming part of the trail includes a 120 mile stretch of desert with water sources few and far between.” Spencer rambled and you couldn’t help the soft smile, though you did try to hide it behind your hand, glancing away from Rossi when you locked eyes with him and he raised an eyebrow at you.

“So we have a serial killer and 3,300 miles of potential hunting grounds?” JJ asked.

“So far he seems to be focusing on Wyoming, which narrows the geographic profile down to…’ Spencer paused as he pulled the Wyoming map closer to him, “550 miles.”

“I hope you all brought your hiking boots.” Rossi said as groans filled the jet.

“Hello my crime fighters.” Garcia’s voice sounded through the speakers. “Hotch, the families of the latest two victims are at the station waiting for you.”

“Thank you Garcia,” Hotch replied before turning to the team. “JJ, I want you to come with me to the station and help interview the families. We also need to get ahead of the media on this before they start glorifying the unsub. Reid, since the geographic profile is mostly established, I want you to take Y/L/N and head to the latest crime scene. Dave and Morgan, the two of you head to the second crime scene.”

You and Spencer both shared a look at the news you were travelling to a crime scene that couldn’t be driven too. Whilst you managed to pass the FBI’s training and fitness tests you weren’t exactly athletically inclined and seeing from the look Spencer was giving you neither was he.

Judging from the chuckles that filled the plane the others had come to the same conclusion that you and Spencer were not going to recover from this trip.

You had driven as close to the crime scene as you could get, which was thankfully closer than the one Morgan and Rossi had to go to. It was still a hell of a hike to get to where the unsub had dumped the bodies.

“Ok, ok,” Spencer panted, cheeks flushed from the heat. “Let’s take a break.”

“Please.” You were quick to agree and the two of you sat down heavily on a fallen tree trunk. You had all been warned that you needed supplies, even for a short hike. So you had both been sent out with backpacks filled with water bottles and food. There were other supplies like maps, compasses and first aid kits that you were hoping you wouldn’t have to use. Thankfully you had been paired with the man with the eidetic memory because you couldn’t read a map to save your life.

After the two of you gulped down some water and caught your breath Spencer spoke up.

“Why the BAU?” He asked suddenly, causing you to look up in confusion.

“Sorry?” You replied.

“You said you had wanted to join the BAU for a long time, why?” He asked again, not pushing you when you paused.

It wasn’t a secret what had happened to your family, Spencer could easily find the information out if he wanted to but you wanted to be the one to tell him. It wasn’t a story you liked sharing with people but something about Spencer made you feel…safe.

“When I was a kid there was a serial killer but he was in the next state over and we were from a small town so nobody thought to worry and after a while things went quiet so everyone just assumed he stopped, you know? Anyway, one day I went to my friend’s house, it was summer and I was always out with my friends. I was there for a few hours but I was always home in time for dinner except for this day, I ended up losing track of time and headed home an hour late. When I got home, my momma was there in the kitchen. She was covered in blood and I just screamed. The rest of my family didn’t make it either. When the police came they said the markings were the same as the victims from the next state over.” You told him, not pausing for breath as you rushed through the story. You watched as his expression fell, his sympathy written on his face.

“I’m so sorry.” He told you and you could hear the sincerity in his tone. You gave him a small smile before continuing.

“I could just never understand why. The thing that kept me up at night was that question: why? Why them? Why did he come here? Why wasn’t I home? Why did I deserve to live? I started researching and somehow came across an article about the BAU, from there I knew I wanted to work there.”

“Most people wouldn’t be able to come back from something like that, especially at such a young age.” Spencer said, causing you to glance over at him. “They’d be so proud of you.”

You couldn’t help but let out what sounded like a chuckle and a sob at those words, causing Spencer’s eyes to widen in fear he had upset you further but then you smile brightly and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“I like to think so.” You said softly. “You ready to continue?” You asked, chuckling as he groaned before standing up.

“I hate Hotch.” Was the grumbled response and the laugh he received in return made every sore bone and the aching feet worth it.

“We know that this unsub is a physically fit white male in his mid to late thirties.” Hotch began.

“Looking at the geographical pattern it’s safe to assume that he too is hiking the Continental Divide Trail in search of victims who are isolated from the rest of civilization. He also has no problems taking down two victims.” Spencer continued.

“The period in between kills is lessening so we should expect to find another body soon, have as many officers as possible on the rest of the trail.” You picked up.

“Considering the last kill was two days ago, the average person could walk up to 30 miles a day on normal terrain but we have to consider that the terrain out there is harsh so lets say he walks 20 miles a day that gives up a 40 mile radius he could be in. He is guaranteed to stay on the continental divide trail so stop every male you see.” Spencer told the LEO’s and after some more information was shared everyone headed off in different directions, the BAU members heading into the room they had been given to work in.

“Y/N,” Hotch said, causing everyone to look over at you.

“Yes sir?” You asked, looking up from your laptop.

“You’re probably the most skilled undercover agent in this room,” He said, causing your cheeks to flush and Spencer couldn’t help but smile. “I know this isn’t exactly the type of case you’d usually be assigned but perhaps if we send you out there we have a better chance of catching him. This man is impulsive, if he sees you he won’t be able to control himself.” Hotch explained, ignoring the questioning looks he was getting from most of the team.

You, however, relaxed, thankful that you hadn’t done something wrong. Undercover work was easy, you were comfortable with it, you knew you were good at it. Obviously you weren’t as confident at this part of the job yet, how could you be on your first case, but undercover work? That was your area of expertise.

“Of course sir.” You agreed easily before remembering how fun the small hike to the last crime scene was…your body would not thank you for signing up for a much longer hike.

“Hotch, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Morgan spoke up causing you to frown. Sure they didn’t know you yet but surely your record spoke for itself. “No offence to you,” he said quickly as he turned to you, “it’s just-“

But before he could finish Hotch cut him off, “I have full faith in Y/L/N’s abilities.”

You couldn’t help feeling a swell of pride at Hotch’s words, a man who you looked up to, a man who barely knew you but was trusting you with so much already. You locked eyes with Spencer who smiled at you reassuringly.

“I’m not doubting the kid’s abilities,” Morgan continued, missing the way you rolled your eyes at being called a kid. “I’m just saying maybe don’t send her in on her own on her first case.”

“I’ll go with her.” Spencer spoke up before Hotch could argue back.

Your eyes widened at Spencer’s offer, he did just as well as you did on your first outing and now he was offering to put himself through hours more of that for what?

“Are you ok with that, Y/N?” Hotch asked you.

You didn’t even hesitate to nod, more than happy for the opportunity to spend time with Spencer Reid.

“We’ll be close by the whole time,” Hotch told you as he passed you your backpack filled with supplies, “the second we hear something, we’ll be there.” He assured you and you couldn’t help but smile at his concern.

“I’ll be fine, sir. This is actually the part of the job I’m good at.” You laughed, watching as his lip twitched upwards.

“You’ve been a great help in coming up with a profile too.” He assured you and before you could say anything the rest of the team was flooding in.

The plan for you and Spencer to hike up to a specific spot that Spencer had managed to pinpoint the unsub at and set up camp there. From there you would wait and hope for the unsub to appear. The man was impulsive and his need to kill would be overwhelming by now. The two of you were wired up so that if the unsub appeared the rest of the team could step in and help with the arrest.

You and Spencer were dropped off half an hour away from your campsite just so that if the unsub was around he wouldn’t suspect anything.

The walk was mostly silent, both you and Spencer focusing on not breaking an ankle on the uneven terrain when Spencer finally spoke up.

“Morgan didn’t mean anything insulting.” He told you, causing you to pause before shrugging your shoulders and continuing. When you stayed silent Spencer continued, “he’s just protective but sometimes he isn’t really good at showing it and it comes across…”

“It comes across like he thinks I can’t do my job despite this being my forte.” You finished with a huff before sighing. “I’m sorry, I just…you can’t imagine how many times a male colleague has said I can’t do something and then a supervisor has agreed, you don’t understand how hard I have to fight to be given assignments and not have somebody constantly berating me.” You ranted.

“People look at me like I’m a child. When I first joined the BAU nobody would take me seriously, without Gideon I don’t know what would have happened.” Spencer told you quietly, causing you to frown.

“So you can understand why it’s so frustrating that someone who doesn’t know me didn’t even want to give me a chance.” You replied, causing him to nod sadly. ‘I know he probably didn’t mean anything but…”

“You’ve heard that your entire career.” Spencer finished.

“Hotch was the first person to give me a chance without any hesitation.” You told him softly, watching as he smiled at that. “This should be close enough.” You said as you looked around, the place looked similar to the image Spencer had shown the team.

“Please tell me you know how to put a tent up.” You said, watching as his face twisted.

“I know the theory?” The way his response sounded like a question made you smile as you pulled poles and material out of a bag. The two of you staring down at the mess with matching expressions of confusion.

“Now would be a really good time for the unsub to attack.” He muttered, causing you to laugh loudly. Spencer couldn’t help but grin over at you, your cheeks flushing as you caught the expression.

It took longer than either you or Spencer were willing to admit to put the tent up, despite the fact that it wouldn’t get used, you had to make it look like the pair of you were really camping. There was a lot of grumbling, many curse words and a cut or two.

There was also a lot of laughter coming from the comms in your ears causing both you and Spencer to roll your eyes.

Once the tent was up, Spencer lay a blanket down outside of it and sat down, gesturing for you to do the same. Miraculously the two of you got a fire started and as the sun set and the night time air chilled you were thankful for it.

“I don’t camp but I guess I can see the appeal.” Spencer told you as he titled his head back to look up at the stars. You glanced up too, the sky wasn’t totally black yet, more of an inky blue colour and you could see every star on the cloudless night.

It was beautiful and yet you still found your gaze falling back on Spencer.

“Yeah, me too.” You replied softly, your voice quiet so as not to break the peacefulness around you.

Somehow the two of you ended up laying down and looking up at the sky, you had a smile on your face that refused to move as Spencer’s hushed voice told you facts about stars.

“I’m glad you’re on the team.” Spencer whispered after a long pause of silence. It took you a moment to register his words before you turned your head, coming face to face with the man.

“Me too.” You whispered back, meaning the words with your entire being.

Just as Spencer went to say something you heard a rustle in the bushes and locked eyes with Spencer who nodded.

The two of you waited, not waiting to disrupt the operation if it just turned out to be an animal, but as you pushed yourself up on your elbow and discreetly looked around you saw a faint outline of a man. He was hidden behind a tree but he was watching the two of you.

“The hike up here was exactly what we needed.” You told Spencer and through the comms you heard the team moving out.

“You’re right.” He played along, smiling up at you from his reclined position.

Before you knew what was happening Spencer had his gun out and the unsub grabbed you, placing you in front of him as a human shield. If someone asked you, you would never have been able to recall the events that led to you having a knife held to your neck.

You saw the panicked look in Spencer’s eyes but you couldn’t hear his thoughts, they were overwhelming. Thoughts of Maeve passed through his mind as he pleaded with anyone who would listen to let you be ok, he couldn’t lose you too. Hell, he’d only known you a few days and yet he knew you were special, he knew he had to have you in his life. If you died now…

“Just let her go.” Spencer said, keeping his gun trained on the man.

“I let her go, you ship me off to death row.” The man responded, his face close to your face, too close. The smell of his breath had you grimacing.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Spencer responded, not even thinking. He just needed to get you away.

“Spenc, what you doing kid?” He heard Morgan through his ear piece but he just shook his head before shooting you a reassuring smile, trying not to focus on the tears in your eyes or the blood on your neck.

“I’m listenin’.” The unsub replied after a moment of silence, gesturing for Spencer to continue.

“Let her go,” He said, lowering his gun, “I won’t arrest you. You can get a head start before anyone else gets here. Just let her go.” Spencer pleaded.

It was a tense few seconds in which Spencer never took his eyes off you, he hated to see that scared look in your eyes, the fear in them made Spencer ache.

“Let her go.” Spencer said once more and he let out a sigh of relief as you were pushed into his arms.

Just as the unsub ran to leave, you twisted around in Spencer’s arms and drew your own gun, shooting the unsub in the leg. The rest of the team ran in just as the man fell to the ground.

Spencer turned you around so that you were facing him, his hands on your shoulders.

“Are you ok?” He asked, Morgan and Hotch walking over whilst Rossi and JJ dealt with the man.

You didn’t respond with words, instead you wrapped your arms around Spencer. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his own around you, holding you close as you let the tears slid down your face.

You pulled away abruptly, rubbing your eyes as you did.

“Sorry, you don’t like to be touched and here I am-“ You said but Spencer just cut you off.

“It’s fine, really.” He assured you before his attention turned to your neck. The knife hadn’t pierced the skin too badly, there was a small bit of blood where the knife had nicked you when the unsub pressed a bit too hard.

“Are you ok?” He asked again, fingers on your jaw so that he could tilt your face and get a better look.

“Spencer, I’m fine.” You assured him but that didn’t stop him from getting you medical attention the moment you were back in the town.

Spencer watched as you squirmed away from the nurse seeing to you with a soft smile.

There was something about you that made him feel so free, like he could be himself and the thought of losing you…he didn’t want to think about it again.

“You like her.” Derek said as he came to stand next to the younger man.

“That’s ridiculous, I’ve known her for a few days.” Spencer shot back but he knew his friend was right.

“If she’s the right girl, a few days is all you need.” Was Derek’s reply before he walked away, leaving Spencer looking at you with a thoughtful look on his face.

The plane ride home was uneventful.

You took the seat next to Spencer again and watched him pull a book out. You couldn’t help but glance down at it, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion as you didn’t recognise the language.

“It’s Russian.” He told you quietly, not wanting to disturb anyone as they settled in for a long flight.

“You read Russian?” You asked just as quietly, watching as he smiled bashfully and shrugged before nodding. You glanced down at the pages again before letting out a small yawn. “Can you read to me?” You asked him, smiling as he nodded again.

“Of course,” He said and with that it wasn’t long before you fell asleep to the soothing sound of Spencer Reid.

“Ask her, man.” Morgan said as both he and Spencer watched you leave the office after finishing your paperwork. Spencer too was done and Morgan assured him he’d make sure Hotch received it.

There was only a brief moment of hesitation before Spencer snatched his satchel up and ran to the elevators, getting there just before they shut on you.

“Hey.” He greeted as he stepped in.

“Hi.” You smiled, brushing a piece of hair out of your face.

“I was wondering, I mean if you wanted to, of course you don’t have to, I was only suggesting but I’d really like it if you would,” Spencer rambled before cutting himself out with a groaning causing you to giggle.

“Are you asking me out?” You asked, cheeks flushing as you asked.

“I’m trying to,” he told you, “but I’m not very good at this.”

“Just ask.” You told him softly.

“Would you like to go out with me?” He asked after taking a deep and calming breath.

“I’d love to.” You grinned, thankful that the man had made a move. You wouldn’t have risked asking him on the chance that you were reading him wrong and he didn’t like you but thankfully he had taken it into his own hands.

“Good. Great. That, that’s great.” He repeated, a soft grin spreading across his face causing you to giggle as the doors opened.

The two of you walked out together and there was a moment of awkward silence before Spencer dipped his head down to kiss your cheek, making your blush even more prominent.

You looked so pretty when you blushed, Spencer thought.

“I’ll call you.” He promised.

“I hope so.” You replied before heading towards your car, when you turned around you saw Spencer still stood by the doors with a smile still on his face. You giggled to yourself but couldn’t stop smiling yourself if you tried.

Spencer Reid was something else and you couldn’t wait to learn everything about that wonderful man.

655 notes · View notes

twistedmusings · 3 years

Text

Second Year Without You

A/N: HAHA I LOVE PAIN. I wrote almost all of this on my phone so I apologize for any spelling mistakes but with the twst 1 year anniversary my hands just called out to me to create nothing but pain u wu. So let me guys know what you think and...Happy 1 year anniversary~!

How the first years react to you suddenly disappearing before their second year starts.

“This is taking forever.”

Grim yawned as he made himself comfortable in your lap, your hand running through his fur as you struggled to stay awake. It was sort of impossible since the church building was still so eerily quiet as each new student’s dorm decisions were made.

Which made you wonder why you were even here.

Ramshackle wasn’t necessarily an official dorm so this weird sorting ceremony didn’t even mean anything to you. This was two hours of your life you weren’t going to get back apparently since Crowley decided that your presence was oh so important and now you were shifting uncomfortably in your seat as the last student stood in front of the mirror so their dorm could be decided.

“Oh. Malleus you might have a chance with this one.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he came in rather gallantly and looks like the type to be good with magic so he would be perfect for Diasmonia.”

The Diasmonia dorm leader chuckles into his hand.

“Is that your final bet?”

“...yeah that’s my final one.” you tilt your head backwards as you look at Azul, “What did you put down?”

“Clearly Pomefiore, Prefect. You haven’t guessed right with any of the other student’s dorm matches so I am purposefully avoiding your suggestions.”

He meets your glare with a smile, jotting down a couple of notes as he turns to Kalim to ask him of his decision. The seven dorm leaders had followed along with the little game you began to play around the thirty minute mark of the ceremony, turning it into a betting pool the moment Azul got serious.

The room goes quiet as the face in the mirror finally chooses to appear.

"Your soul...it belongs in Pomefiore!"

Your groan is hidden by polite clapping, Malleus patting your head as you choose to hang it in shame. This felt just like failing one of Crewel's quizzes but now you were 600 madol poorer.

"Prefect that was a major loss...I might have to stop talking to you if this affects my gacha pulls."

The tablet hovers beside you, clearly mocking your incredible loss before you bat it away and turn to look at Crowley.

"And with that, my dear students, the ceremony is concluded. Please follow your vice dorm leaders to your designated dorms...and welcome to Night Raven College!"

You stand up, put Grim down and stretch, waving goodbye to the other dorm leaders as you wonder just what in the world you were going to have for dinner tonight. You knew Azul was going to open Monstro Lounge in celebration so maybe you should go--

"Oi! Prefect!"

Well that was quick.

Ace smiles as he approaches the pew first, talking to you about how boring the ceremony was and what you were planning to do afterwards. Deuce comes up behind him followed by Epel while Jack and Sebek talk with their dorm leaders for a few moments before heading to where you were standing.

“We got some news, by the way~” Ace smiles as he throws up some jazz hands towards Sebek, “May I present to you the soon to be vice dorm leader of Diasmonia~!”

Sebek tries to frown but there is a clear smile on his face as he takes off his hood, beaming with pride as you shake his hand. You would have gone with high-five but you figured he would like this better.

“Did Malleus break the news to you?”

“He did!” the fae’s voice breaks through the hushed silence, “Young Master approached me ever so elegantly and let me know of my role for next year! The mere act was so moving and inspiring!”

“I also got some news!” Epel grins as he gets butts in front of Sebek, “The Magic Shift club captain told me that I’m in the running for first string! If I win one more game I’ll be able to play with them officially!”

You go to congratulate Epel but stop when Ace also butts in front of him, “Better news! I’ve been made vice-captain of the basketball team! Jamil was going to give the title to Floyd but then he decided better against it.”

“So you were the second choice.” Jack says as he pulls his hood down.

“And the best one! Jamil knew the choice he was going to make all along, he was just messing with me.” Ace grins as he turns towards you, “Impressive, huh?”

You hum before laughing, “I would say it was impressive if it wasn’t for the fact that I know for a fact Floyd would do a worse job at any leadership position than you.”

“Oi!”

The group laughs before Epel tugs on Deuce’s robe and pushes him so that he is in front of you next.

“And Prefect, may I present the new captain of the Track and Field club!”

Deuce’s face goes a light shade of pink as Epel tugs on his cheek, “He said he wanted to tell his mom first before telling us but I figured since we are all talking about achievements…”

“Because it was not set in stone!” the Heartslabyul student takes Epel’s hand and pulls it away from his hand, “Jack still has a good chance to get it instead of me.”

“Mm. I would rather it go to you, Deuce.” Jack smiles as he pats his shoulder, “I see how hard you work during practices so I think the position would be perfect for you.”

“Oh right. Leona told me.” you smile at Jack, “Am I right in assuming we are talking to the vice dorm leader of Savannaclaw?”

“I--!” wolf ears twitch as Jack blushes, looking at you in disbelief before sighing as the others stare at him in expectation, “...Yes. Ruggie-senpai told me before the ceremony.”

Everybody gives him a round of applause as his blush deepens in color, making you laugh as you lean over to pat his shoulder. To think they were all now second years…

You included.

I’m supposed to be finding a way home…

The thought is catapulted from your head as Grim sets himself down on top of it, smiling as he topples forward so you would catch him in your arms.

“Fgnya~! The Great Grim and his henchman have news too!”

A paw is pointed at you, your cue to speak apparently.

“...Ramshackle is getting some big renovations soon! We managed to talk Crowley into it and he agreed to renovate both the kitchen and the bathroom as well as possibly renovating some of the rooms!”

“What!” Ace laughs, “How did you pull that off!?”

“Hehe~” Grim taps his chest twice, “I told the Headmaster that Ramshackle can serve as a place for guests from other schools to stay over! He gets a place to brag about with potential guests and we get brand new things!”

Epel hums, “So it’s like a hotel.”

Both you and Grim stay quiet and look away, the group laughing knowing Epel had hit right on the mark.

You stay quiet as they talk with one another, smiling fondly at seeing your group of friends happily enjoying their life here in Night Raven College. You didn't even know how it happened but this little group had become like your family in the one year you stayed here. The homesickness you felt whenever you realized you were far from your home was always subdued by hanging out with them and taking part in their shenanigans. To you it was crazy to think about it this way but...you loved them.

Ace’s tricks but also his quiet support of you and the rest of the group.

Deuce’s tenacity but also the gentle side he let only his friends see.

Jack’s work ethic along with his more nurturing side.

Epel’s constant growth as a person yet never forgetting where he came from.

Sebek’s devotion towards his Young Master as well as realizing his own strength.

And Grim’s goal of wanting to be the greatest magician ever but never leaving you behind.

You loved these six dorks so much, more than you would care to admit to yourself.

Finding a way home was no longer such a big priority in your eyes. You used to ask the Headmaster constantly for a way back home but you believed that this place had become more of a home in your eyes. So the constant reminder that you weren’t from here was silenced by just how much these six made you feel like you were part of a big family.

“...I’m starving.” you finally speak up as you let go of Grim, “You guys want to drop by the Monstro Lounge?”

“Can we drop by Pomefiore first? I forgot my wallet.”

“Prefect! We should invite the Young Master too!”

“If we are going to do that then let’s invite Leona-senpai as well. I have a feeling he will complain if Malleus-senpai is the only one in the celebration.”

“Do you think we should invite Riddle after the first year’s celebration, Ace?”

Deuce turns to look at his fellow student, blinking when he has to turn all the way around.

“Ace?”

All heads turn to look at the other second year, cherry red eyes shining as he points at the mirror still floating in the center of the room.

“You know. Since the mirror is still here…” Ace smiles as he walks over to you and takes your hand, “Don’t you think we should try your sorting again?”

“Huh?”

Your sorting?

That’s right. The mirror had said that your soul didn’t really belong anywhere when you first came here.

“I honestly don’t think it’s going to be any different, Ace.” you shrug, “Besides I sort of already belong in a dorm--”

Grim comes up behind you, “Exactly! They belong in the dorm we made!”

“Oh come on! Wouldn’t it be fun!” Ace looks back at the group, “It’s just us here. Don’t you guys want to see what dorm Prefect would have been sorted in?”

Jack hums before looking at you, “I believe you would make a fine Savannaclaw student.”

“Well they also helped out with Pomefiore, I think that would be a good fit for them too.” Epel sighs, “If they were there I wouldn’t feel like a green apple in a red apple orchard.”

Sebek taps his chin a few moments before nodding, “Despite having no magical talent, your presence in Diasmonia would be greatly appreciated.”

“Okay okay you doofuses, I think we all know what dorm they would be sorted in.” Ace wraps an arm around you as he gestures Deuce over, “So say hello to the Heartslabyul Trio~”

“Ace! Stop trying to get my henchman somewhere else! They belong in Ramshackle!”

Grim tugs on your hood while you quickly ask him to stop, your arms flailing around before you pull your hood down and find yourself face to face with the mirror.

“Ace I don’t think--” you turn to look at him but the other just puts his hand together as if he were praying.

“Just one look, Prefect! Please!” Ace smiles as he looks over at Deuce, “We are all curious, right?”

Deuce’s nervous expression relaxes as he sees that there really was nobody else around.

“It wouldn’t hurt to know. It’d be just us.”

“I agree! I am way too curious to not know now!”

“Your true nature is showing, Epel.”

“Don’t pretend like you’re not curious, Jack!”

“Quiet humans! The face in the mirror is deciding!”

You quickly turn around as you see the face in the mirror, a knot in your chest suddenly forming as the chamber falls into silence. What a feeling of dejavu. You remember just how you felt when you were standing in front of the mirror the first time.

No idea where you were, no idea what was to come.

And the feeling of being an outcast had been unbearable when the mirror stated that you belonged nowhere...but you had carved out a little place here to call your own. Despite the fact that you knew where you were going to sleep tonight and where you were going to wake up in the morning, the knot of nervousness relaxed and turned into a curious dizziness, the silence only serving to make the noise in your ears ring.

The mirror only stared at you for a minute longer before speaking up.

“It seems your time is up.”

You blink as the face disappears, turning towards the others as they all share the same look of confusion before sighing as they turn around and start walking towards the exit.

“Well that was anticlimactic.” Ace pouts, “Thought for sure they belonged in Heartslabyul.”

Deuce sighs, “Monstro Lounge for sure must be full now. How will we get a table?”

“We can celebrate in Diasmonia instead! I know that the dorm is going to be full of fae cuisine!”

“...I...prefer taking my chances at the Monstro Lounge.” Epel smiles as he look at Jack, “Or maybe Savannaclaw?”

“It would be rowdy but if you don’t mind that sort of atmosphere.”

“Savannaclaw usually has some good roasted beef! Do you know if they have that there today?” Grim places himself on Jack’s head as the other keeps talking about their celebration.

“Alright. We’ll check Monstro Lounge and then Savannaclaw! Oi, Prefect, get a move--”

Ace’s eyes widen as he turns around, dread climbing up his legs and curling around his neck as he looks at the small orbs of lights floating away in the place where you were supposed to be.

Only to find that you weren’t there anymore.

--What...the hell?

--He looks around, wondering where you went and calling out your name. It starts out with a couple of laughs at first but the dread in his stomach grows as well as the volume of his voice.

"Oi! This isn't funny! Come out already!"

--Deuce is calling out to him but he can't listen to him, all he can remember is the mirror's voice saying that time was up?

--Time? As in your time in Twisted Wonderland? But...you said that the Headmaster hadn't found a way to get you back home. He didn't want to disappoint you but after a whole year with them...he didn't believe that you would go back. Which was alright! Ace was more than ready to make this a home for you! He didn't know how he was going to do it, but goddammit he at least wanted to try!

--He wasn't done with you yet! He hadn't shown you the cool trick shot he learned to shoot with Floyd, or the awesome new magic trick he designed with you in mind! You would always look past his tricks so he wasn't able to fool you but he thought that this one would be worthy of your praise!

--Eyes glare at the mirror as he lets his feelings spill out.

"BRING THEM BACK! THEY AREN'T DONE HERE! THEY BELONG HERE! BRING THEM BACK!"

--Jack is holding him back from lashing at the object and after a few moments of thrashing around, all Ace can do is stare at the spot you were at a moment ago with his eyes stinging from tears that still refused to fall.

--He didn't even get to say goodbye.

--At first all he can do is stare. Where had you gone? Were you playing some sort of prank on them? If you were...this really wasn’t funny at all. You two had promised to go running together in the morning with Jack, you needed to get back to Ramshackle to sleep so it was best if you celebrated early and then went to bed--

“Deuce. Go get the Headmaster."

--He doesn't remember much after that. All he remembers is Ace yelling and Jack holding him back before he was rushing out of the building and towards the Headmasters office.

--You couldn't be gone. Where did you even go? A part of him doesn't even want to say that you had gone back. There was nowhere you had to go back to in his head. Twisted Wonderland was your home and you belonged here just like the rest of them.

--Memories of his time with you make his feet move faster, the robes proving a great weight but not at all stopping him from reaching his goal.

--Everything would be fine. They would find a way to get you back and Deuce wouldn't allow himself to let you do something so irresponsible again. He should have stopped Ace when he could! And once you came back then he could give you a proper send off.

--His feet were sore, his lungs were burning but he wouldn’t dare stop running, finally reaching the Headmasters office as he pulled the door open with all his might.

--He just wanted to get you back so he could properly thank you. You were his buddy...and he didn't want to let you go without you knowing that.

--It's hard holding back against his instincts.

--His body's first response is to also grab at the mirror and find out where you had gone. The idea of you disappearing just like that was impossible, especially after all the trouble the Headmaster had in finding a portal to your world. So, to him, you were immediately in danger.

--He clenched his fists hard as he walked Ace towards one of the pews, letting him sit down as Epel and Sebek approached him. They were asking questions and clearly depending on him for some sort of guidance. Which wasn’t completely out of the norm, he was an older brother and had grown to care for his friends just as he would his siblings. One year did a lot to bring people closer together. But what could he do but remain quiet as Epel and Sebek asked questions he could not answer.

--Jack had no idea where you had gone, no idea if you were going to come back and as the questions kept piling up the dread in his heart began to grow. Would you even come back?He knew how important family was and how terrible it was to be separated from them, but what about the people you left behind here? Your disappearance was already making them--no--him feel so powerless that he could only answer the other first year’s questions with a simple phrase.

“I don’t know.”

--He instinctively bared his teeth as the doors slammed opened, keeping Epel and Sebek behind him as the Headmaster entered the building with a frown, asking for a run down of the situation in full detail as possible. And while Jack would have taken charge of the situation in this scenario, just simply looking at the mirror kept him from articulating his thoughts correctly.

--Jack just wanted to know you were safe.

“We were left in the building all alone and we thought that [Y/N]-san should try to sort themselves again, just to see what would happen. Yet the mirror didn’t say anything and now they are...they are not--”

--Hold it back. Hold the tears back. Epel had gone through a lot in his time in both NRC and Pomefiore. He had been pushed out of his comfort zone through the VDC and just living in a dorm that was so unlike him but he had pushed through and adapted relatively well, with your help and the help of his friends. So now was not the time to cry!

--You had once praised him for his mental strength, saying that it took a lot of training for him to be put through Vil’s daily demands and training as well as keeping up with the Magishift club and his studies above all of that. With that little comment, and the support of his newfound friends, Epel’s mind had shifted into focusing on how strong he was mentally instead of physically.

--Something he needed to be now more than ever.

“They disappeared.”

“Headmaster, how are we going to bring them back?”

“Well...this was the way it was supposed to be from the start. As much as it pains me to say, it seems the Prefect finally found their way back home.”

“NO!”

--He puts a hand over his mouth, surprised by his own outburst. When he was still a beginning first year there were moments in which he had to keep himself in check from speaking like he would back home. As the year went on he had managed to keep himself in check and only let his accent and his voice volume slip when he was with his friends and with you.

--The Headmaster simply continued talking about the possibilities as Epel hung his head, biting his bottom lip as he remembered the last conversation you both had. With vacations upon them soon, Epel had invited you to come over and visit the Village of Harvest. First time he had a friend over there so he was all set to show you the sights of his little town and it would be your first official trip to another land in Twisted Wonderland!

--A hand touched his shoulder, Epel turning around as he saw Deuce looking down at him with tears in his eyes. That was the last straw as his own tears started to flow freely, Epel burying his face in the other’s robes so no one would have to see just how weak he looked.

“Sebek.”

--The fae’s back straightened out, the voice of his Young Master ringing out as he turned around to look at him. Several students were peeking through the door, trying to get a peek at what was happening while others worked to get the message around, yet Malleus was the only one brave enough to step through the threshold of the building and approach him.

--The Ramshackle prefect had disappeared.

--Sebek had a strange relationship with you. While he detested the way you treated the Young Master as nothing more than just another person, he had slowly started to come around to your way of thinking. The Young Master wanted a friend, and Sebek had only been keeping him at a distance due to his admiration.

--You taught him how to talk to his Young Master and how to appreciate a friendship with him instead of just blinding devotion.While he would still follow Malleus to the end of the earth, he did so as Malleu’s friend and not as his guard. In turn, he slowly started to feel like he would the same for you, as well.

--He was still very naive to relationships such as these but you had been patient, listening to him talk about Malleus when he wanted while also asking him of his other interests. Your teaching method had been effective and Sebek would have even dared to say that you were perhaps coming close to being his best friend.

--Although that chance had disappeared along with you.

--So the only thing he could do is stare into his Young Master’s eyes, the eyes of someone who was just as confused and as worried as he, and do his best to tell him what had happened and what the Headmaster had said.

--He knew that it was for the best that you had gone back home, but why did it feel so wrong?

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst anniversary #twst headcanons #twst imagines #ace trappola #deuce spade #jack howl #epel felmier #sebek zigvolt #twst first years

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