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crybabylulu · 21 hours

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Clueless

Sugar mama Lin Beifong x sugar baby reader

Summary: things get spicy between you and Lin but not in a good way

I was so nervous to go swimsuit shopping with Asami. I’m not the biggest fan of swimsuits due to my body. I can be very confident in myself even if sometimes I’m just pretending but it’s not easy to pretend in swimsuits. I could find a cute cover up maybe to help. This is overly stressful and stupid. I know we aren’t going shopping anytime soon because Asami is gonna be really busy working. She’s got a lot to catch up on. Maybe I should go by myself so I don’t panic too much. I should it’ll be easier for me. I sighed then got out of bed and got ready. This gives me something to do while Linny is at work. She said she wanted to meet at the noodle shop near her job for lunch, which is fine by me.

I grabbed my bag then left the house making my way to the shops. Just relax, everything will be fine! When I arrived at the mall I looked at different stores that sold swimsuits. It was hard to find anything I liked in my size! I sighed and continued to look until I found a cute red swimsuit. It was high waisted and you tied the bottoms on the side along with the top. I have to tie it around my neck. It’s like a tube top but with strings and it looks like it’ll hold my chest well. “Would you like to go try it on?” An employee asked. “Oh um sure.” I said. The employee led me to the back and showed me a changing room. I went in and took my clothes off.

I was so nervous to try it on but I need to try it on. I need to do this. I took a deep breath and put on the swim suit. Once everything is tied, all I have to do is look into the mirror. I just have to look. Just look! I want to throw up now. I’m really glad I didn’t bring Asami. I’m acting way too dramatic and I don’t want her to see this. I sighed out and looked into the mirror. I decided to focus on my hair instead of my body. I fixed it to look the way I wanted to then looked at my body. “Oh. I like this.” I said. I looked at my boobs then turned around and looked at my butt and smirked. “Ok I look really good.” I said. I let out a sigh of relief then changed my clothes. I went to the register and bought it.

I left with a big smile on my face. I’m so excited! But before I left the mall I saw a store with stuffed animals and decided to buy them along with a few shoes. Once I was done shopping I made my way to Lin. As I was walking towards the noodle shop I saw Lin walking. “Lin!” I called. She turned her head and saw me. I ran over to her. “Hi baby.” I said. “Hi hon.” Lin said. She held the door open for me then we got seated. “I see you did some shopping today.” Lin said. “I was going just for a swimsuit but I saw other cute things.” I said. “I thought you and Asami were going swimsuit shopping together?” Lin asked.

“Well you know Asami is a hard working woman and since we just came from vacation you know she won’t be out of her office for a while.” I said. Lin nodded. “Going by myself was fine, it was easier. I was in and out. When Asami and I go we take a long time because we are browsing which I love but sometimes I like to be in and out of stores.” I said. “You like to be in and out of stores? I find that hard to believe.” Lin said with a smug look on her face. “Oh hush. I also bought some more stuffed animals to decorate the house and some shoes.” I said. “No more stuffed animals.” Lin said. “I need more but also I got you some small ones so you can put them on your desk.” I told her and reached into my bag.

I pulled out two mini badger moles that were holding hands. “It’s you and me.” I told her and held them out to her. Lin just raised a brow. “Take em. You can put them on your desk and think of us every time you look at them.” I said. Lin looked at them then shook her head. I pouted. “Take them.” I said. “No.” Lin said. “Why?” I asked. “There’s just no need for them.” Lin replied. “What do you mean? It’ll be cute.” I said. “No.” Lin said sternly. What is her problem? I rolled my eyes. Lin ordered for us and she barely talked to me. “How’s your day going?” I asked trying to get her to talk to me. “Fine.” Lin said dryly. “I introduced Mako to Tofu! I can’t believe I forgot to tell you.” I said excitedly.

Lin just nodded her head. “Did I do something?” I asked. “No.” Lin said. “Then what’s wrong?” I asked. “Nothing.” Lin said. “Lin talk to me.” I said. “There’s nothing wrong.” Lin said. I rolled my eyes. Here she goes again, shutting me out. We ate lunch in silence and it irritated me! Why is she acting like this? What did I do wrong? “Did something happen at work?” I asked. “Nothing happened and nothing is wrong.” Lin snapped. When we finished eating I didn’t bother waiting for her to pay the bill. I just made my way home.

I decided to call Asami. “Hello.” Asami said tiredly. “She’s pissed and I don’t know why.” I said. “Huh.” Asami said. “Lin and I went out to lunch and I showed her these cute badger moles I bought and they’re holding hands so I told her put them on her desk and she’s like no there’s no need for them! Like what? I’m trying to be cute and she’s ruining it!” I shouted. Asami didn’t say anything. “Sami?” I asked. She still didn’t respond but I started to hear light snoring. I sighed then hung up and decided to go bother Kya at work. I don’t want to sit in the apartment.

Kya was sitting in the cafeteria and I sat with her. “What are you doing here?” Kya asked. “I needed someone to talk to.” I said. “Oh no, what happened?” Kya asked. I sighed and explained the whole lunch fiasco that happened. “Well you know Linny. I think putting them on the desk will make the big scary chief look soft.” Kya said and laughed. “I guess. But she could have just said that but she didn’t. It’s ridiculous.” I said. “I know but you know Lin isn’t much of a softy but I can tell she loves you very much.” Kya said. “I get it but still she could have just said it then I would be like ok that’s fine but you know put it in her desk compartments.” I said.

“I know honey but try not to take it to heart.” Kya said. I sighed. We talked some more till her lunch was over and then I went home. I put away my stuffed animals then put away my new shoes after that I laid on the couch. I wanted to be a baby and not make dinner for Lin but I’m not gonna be petty. I’m gonna give her another chance. I’m gonna be a good girl! I took a short nap then got up to take a shower. After my shower I made dinner. I made enough for me and Lin to eat together then after I plated up the food. Once that was done I went to get dressed. As I was getting ready the phone rang and I answered it.

“Hello.” I said. “I’m so sorry! I didn��t mean to fall asleep.” Asami said. “It’s ok. You’re working hard.” I said. “I know but I should have still sat up to talk to you.” Asami said. “It’s ok.” I said. “So what happened?” Asami asked. I explained everything to her like how I did to Kya. “Aww I know that hurt your feelings.” Asami said. “It did! Kya said Lin just didn’t want to appear soft but like who cares just take them.” I said. “I understand but hey at least you guys have Tofu.” Asami said. “I don’t even think she cares about Tofu! I told her I introduced Mako to Tofu but she didn’t even care.” I said.

“She didn’t care? That’s kind of rude.” Asami said. “I know right! I’m going to deliver her dinner and I’m going to tell her about herself.” I said. “Good luck.” Asami said. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” I told her. “Ok I’ll be waiting for the update.” Asami said. “Ok, I love you bye.” I said. “I love you bye.” Asami said and hung up. I sighed then finished getting ready. I got everything together then walked to the station. I made it inside and then went up to her office. Knocking on the door I waited for Lin’s permission to come inside. “Come in.” Lin said. I opened the door and went inside.

“Hi Linny.” I said sweetly. “Hello.” Lin said. I closed the door then sat on the couch. “Come let’s eat dinner.” I said. “Can you just leave it there for me, I have a lot to finish up.” Lin said. “You can take a break to eat.” I said. “I'm busy.” Lin said. “Fine anyways, so about the badger moles.” I said. “There’s nothing to say about them.” Lin said. “I get if you don’t want to put them on the desk because you’ll look soft to your officers but maybe you can just,” “Let it go I’m not putting those stupid things anywhere in my office.” Lin said sternly. “They’re not stupid.” I said softly.

Lin sighed. “Just get out.” Lin said. I got up and left like she wanted me to. I walked myself home and changed into my pjs then curled up into bed. I cried my eyes out the whole time.

#chief of police lin beifong #tlok lin #tlok lin beifong #lin beifong fanfiction #sugar mama lin beifong #lin x reader #lin beifong x reader #tlok asami #asami sato #kya tlok #tlok x reader

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maximons · 3 years

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Tricks And Treats

Summary: Pietro tries to get Wanda and Y/n to finally admit their feelings for each other and takes them to a haunted house. Too bad Wanda is a full on scaredy cat...or is that exactly what is needed?

Word Count: 2,915

Genre: Fluff

Requested?: Yes

A/N: Finally back with the Fluff! Here’s that one shot I promised like a week ago lmao Happy Reading!

Halloween was for sure your favorite holiday.

You knew you were in the minority with that thought, seeing most people picked Christmas as their favorite, but you didn’t care. You always loved the time of year that came with Halloween, your birthday fell pretty close to it, you get to dress up and pretend to be someone else for a day, and it’s full on spooky season! What wasn’t there to love?

Well apparently a lot, at least according to your best friend Wanda.

For someone who’s a witch, you find it very funny that she doesn’t like the holiday.

You first met Wanda during the whole Ultron situation, back then she took on a more ‘emo’ appearance. Don’t tell anyone you said this, but you wouldn’t mind if she adopted the look again cause damn, so you just assumed Halloween and all things spooky would be for her, right?

Wrong.

You quickly learned that Wanda was not a fan of scary. You remember asking her to go see this new horror movie with you, it was your first time hanging out alone together and you just figured it’d be something she was into.

By the end of the movie, her face was buried in her knees, and she didn’t believe you when you told her the movie was over. The poor teenager working the theater was pretty annoyed with you both.

Needless to say, you didn’t bother her about anything spooky related again.

So when Pietro came to you two asking if you wanted to go to the new haunted house in town, you were beyond shocked that she agreed without a second thought.

“Uh, Wanda are you sure?” You asked, very hesitant. “I don’t know if you’ve ever been to a haunted house before, but-”

“I know what they are, Y/n.” Wanda cut you off before you finished, seeming very enthused, which confused you more. “I think it’ll be really cool!”

“Yeah...Wands, I know this group. This isn’t your typical ‘few scary decorations with the occasional light jump scare’ thing. These guys are intense.” You tried again. You didn’t know what had gotten into the witch, but you were sure she was making a mistake here.

“Y/n/n, relax. I’m not a child, I can handle myself. Trust me, okay? It’ll be great!” The bright smile on Wanda’s face was always a sight you welcomed, but it confused you in the moment. Still, you knew once her mind was set on something...let’s just say it’d be easier to find all the infinity stones than to talk her out of it.

“Alright, if you say so.” You shrugged, deciding it was best to drop the topic. Besides, she was right, Wanda’s a grown woman who can make her own choices. You just get to wait to be able to tell her that her choice was a stupid one. “So Friday night?” You asked Pietro, who nodded excitedly.

“Friday night!” He confirmed.

“Okay, cool.” You took another quick sip of your morning coffee before setting your mug down. “I gotta get ready for training. So happy to be working with Steve today instead of Nat, he’s always a walk in the park.” You said sarcastically with a roll of your eyes. “Wish me luck.”

The twins wished you luck as you left the room to go get ready. After they were sure you were out of earshot, the witch turned to her brother. “This is your plan? Are you crazy?”

“I know, I know, but trust me, okay?” He reassured, walking to the fridge to grab himself a drink. “Y/n loves this stuff, and as she is the love of your life-”

“Whoa, whoa, I-I never said-”

“-You should experience the things that she loves to do.” Pietro finished, ignoring his sister’s intervention. “I’ll do my best to stay out of your guys’ way, and you have the whole evening to yourselves. Sounds perfect to me.”

“Yeah, until I act like a complete, how do they say, ‘spaz’ around her again.” Wanda sighed, leaning on the kitchen counter in defeat.

“You won’t. You know what kind of things to expect now. And if you do freak out, all the more reason to be by her side. She will protect you.”

Wanda looked at her brother in confusion. “I can protect my self.”

Pietro rolled his eyes playfully. “Not what I meant. You will see, sestra.”

Friday night came before you know it, and you, Wanda and Pietro were waiting in the line to buy your tickets to enter.

“Holy shit, this is a long line.” Pietro complained, causing you to chuckle.

“Not surprising. It’s the week before Halloween, weather’s nice, and this group doesn’t come to New York a whole lot. More surprised it isn’t longer actually.” You shrugged.

“Why don’t they come to New York? I thought this was one of America’s more popular states?” Wanda asked.

“It is, but ever since Loki invaded and our merry band of misfits formed, tourism and things like this have been down a whole lot.” You leaned down to get closer to Wanda’s ear. “I guess we’ve been the scary ones all along.” You joked, but Wanda was more focused on trying to calm down and forget the feeling of your breath against her ear.

“Everything alright there, Wanda?” Pietro asked after a moment, teasing smirk on his face. Before Wanda could even fire back, a voice from in front of you spoke up.

“No way! You guys are Avengers!” The group in front of you turned around, one of the guys recognized you instantly.

“Uh, yes...we are.” Wanda awkwardly stated. You knew Wanda hated fan interactions, and to be honest you weren’t a fan of these situations either. They were unpredictable. The Avengers were either beloved or despised, and you’ve been on both ends of the reaction spectrum. Wanda and Pietro, unfortunately, have seen a lot more animosity than you and the others.

Honestly, you couldn’t even fault the ones that didn’t love you guys. You weren’t ignorant and knew your battles have caused a lot of problems for a lot of people. You could sympathize, but that didn’t mean you wanted to be on the receiving end of that anger. Especially not when you were trying to just have a fun night out with your friends. “Look guys, we’re really just here to have a good time. We don’t wanna cause a scene.” You said.

“Nah, nah, it’s cool. I think you guys are awesome!” The guy said, and it was clear to you then that the dude was baked out of his mind. “Especially you, with the red wiggly woos!” He pointed to Wanda as he gave a terrible impression of her hand movements. You smiled, happy to see a fan interaction go well for Wanda.

The joy you felt didn’t last long though, as another guy in the group turned to you, blunt in his hand. “Hey, you’re the fire one right? Can you do me a solid?” He gestured to you, asking you to give him a light. You sighed, the twins chuckling at the situation.

“Yeah, but don’t ask again.” You ignited the tip of your finger, gently placing it on the end of the blunt. The group turned around in line and continued to go about their own conversation. You felt Wanda elbow your side, and you turned to see a smirk on her face. When you heard Pietro’s snicker, you groaned.

“Shut up.”

“Look at you, helping delinquents. Aren’t you supposed to be a superhero? Bringer of justice and all of that?” Wanda teased and you rolled your eyes playfully.

“Yeah, but I’m the fun one. It’s just weed.” You said confidently, but the witch saw through it and you dropped the act. “And the last time that happened and I said no, the dude burst into tears.” You said under your breath.

“There it is.” She smiled, and you couldn’t help but smile back despite you being the subject of mockery. You loved seeing her smile, you didn’t care about the reason why.

Before you knew it, Pietro announced that you guys were next in line to buy tickets. He bought his and stepped aside so you can go next. “Hi, two please.” Wanda turned to you with her eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“Wha- Y/n, I can afford it.” She chuckled nervously, flattered by the action.

“I know, but when I have to drag you out of here cause you’re paralyzed in fear, at least you won’t regret dropping forty bucks on it.” You shrugged as you handed the cashier your credit card.

Wanda’s face reddened, something she quickly tried to hide from her brother who was enjoying this way too much. Her flustered state faded quickly when she processed what you said. “Hey!” You chuckled before thanking the cashier as she returned your card.

“Please go to the table to sign your waivers, entrance is down that hill. Enjoy your night.” The monotone voice told you that the poor woman’s been working all night. You didn’t have time to dwell on that though as you felt a panicked tapping on your arm.

“What’s wrong? We haven’t even entered yet.” You teased.

“W-what did she mean by waivers?” You chuckled at the panicked tone in the witch’s voice.

“Just means if you have a heart attack or something, you can’t sue.” You shrugged nonchalantly, but Wanda took it very seriously and turned to you with even wider eyes.

“That can happen!?”

“Well, it happened at least once if the thought of doing a waiver.” You answered, once again, nonchalantly. You looked at Wanda and could swear you saw her blood run cold. You laughed, which resulted in you receiving a glare. “Relax, Wan, you’ll be fine. You’re an Avenger, you’ve faced off against killer robots, stared death in the face time and time again!” You exclaimed dramatically as you waved your arms. You noticed Wanda start to smile and relax her shoulders.

“Thanks, Y/n.” She gave you a sweet smile, and you couldn’t help but melt.

“Yeah, anytime.” Your eyes locked with Wanda, you were about to look away but couldn’t. ‘Wow, were her eyes always this green? They’re beautiful.’ You thought.

A blush appeared on the witch’s face as she tore her gaze from you. You were about to ask what happened, but were interrupted. “Let’s go slow pokes!” Pietro’s voice shouted, effectively breaking the moment.

“Yeah, yeah Sonic, we’re coming!” You rolled your eyes as you shouted back. Wanda giggled at the banter between you and her brother, she loved that you two were close. With that, you and her headed down the hill towards the entrance.

After about a half hour, it seemed Wanda was holding up well. The three of you walked out of the corn maze, and she had a triumphant smile on her face. “I thought you said this place was scary.” She teased causing you to roll your eyes playfully.

“Congratulations you survived the corn maze, you get to join the hall of fame with the other twelve year-olds.” As if to emphasize your point, three twelve year-olds ran out of the maze in giggles, clearly unaffected. Wanda pouted. “Aw, don’t worry. I thought you were very brave.” You teased yet again, which resulted in an elbow to the side.

“You’re a jerk.” Wanda held back a smile as she strutted forward. You laughed as you jogged forward to catch up.

“Alright, are you guys ready for the big one?” Pietro asked and your eyes widened.

“Oh, Piet, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You said as you nudged your head towards Wanda, hinting that you didn’t think she could handle that. Unfortunately, she caught on.

“Aw come on, Y/n. I’m not a baby.”

“I know, but you can’t go from the corn maze to...that.” You gestured towards the haunted maze entrance, a giant purple demon with smoke blowing out of it’s ears looming over. You guys turned at the sound of screams, and saw a group run out of the maze in fear, which then dissolved into laughter.

“They seem to be having fun.” Wanda gestured towards the group.

“Yeah, after the screams of terror.” You shot back. “You can’t go from walking around the block to running a marathon.”

“Oh yeah? Watch me.” Wanda strutted forward towards the entrance, determined to prove you wrong.

You groaned as you looked over to Pietro, who watched the whole ordeal with a cheeky smile. “Your sister’s insane.”

“Yeah, but you love it.” Pietro said under his breath, but you still heard it.

“What?”

“Nothing!” With that, the man sped forward, catching up to his sister at the entrance. You stared after him for a moment in shock before joining them.

The three of you walked the path, and everything seemed to be going well...for all of five seconds. The first jump scare happened behind Wanda. The loud screech startled her, and she jumped with a scream. She stumbled into your arms, and you wrapped them around her in order to keep her from falling. You chuckled, and Wanda looked up at you with the intention to glare. However, when your eyes locked again, Wanda couldn’t help but stare.

You, of course, had to ruin the moment. “Not too late to turn back, y’know. This is just the beginning.” Wanda groaned and pulled away from you, continuing forward. You laughed. “You can hold my hand if you want!” You don’t know what compelled you to say that, but you knew you weren’t entirely joking.

And you didn’t regret it when Wanda reached out and held your hand without another word. You smiled, squeezing her hand.

What you didn’t see was Pietro giving Wanda a thumbs up as you both walked past.

At some point, you guys lost Pietro in the dark maze. Wanda wasn’t even worried as she still held your hand tightly, and you knew the man would be fine and he’ll meet up with you at the exit.

Wanda had been holding up better than you thought. You wouldn’t say she was good per say, seeing as she screamed and practically jumped into your arms at the slightest sound, but she hadn’t collapsed on the ground in tears yet, so you’d count that as a win.

“Gotta say, Maximoff. I’m impressed.” You said as you two walked down the maze hand in hand.

“I’m just being that super brave Avenger like you said.” Wanda giggled, and you couldn’t help but melt at the noise.

“Well you’re doing an awesome job. Even if the last three guys almost made you pee your pants.” You laughed loudly as you took in the shocked reaction the woman gave you.

“Y/n!” She scolded, but before you could even respond, the worst jump scare yet occurred.

A large animatronic growled and lowered from the ceiling right behind Wanda. The witch turned to look briefly as she screamed loudly and jumped to you again. This time, however she literally jumped into your arms. You quickly braced your hands under her thighs, catching her, as she wrapped her legs around your waist. The force from the jump caused you to stumble back into a darker corner of the maze. Your back hit a hay wall, and you and Wanda laughed at the moment. Your laughter continued for a moment, and Wanda lifted her head from your shoulder to look into your eyes. Both of you got quiet as you continued to stare, sensing the moment shift.

“You okay?” You whispered, almost as if talking to loudly would shatter the moment. Wanda nodded, eyes still locked onto yours. After a moment of silence, she spoke up.

“Y’know...I think a distraction would help.” Your eyebrows shot up at the insinuation. You doubted you heard her correctly, but when you saw her eyes shift down to your lips, you knew what she wanted. And you wouldn’t lie and say you didn’t want it too.

“I...Yeah, I think I could help with that.” You barely got your sentence out when Wanda smashed her lips to yours roughly. You tightened your hold on her thighs as she wrapped her arms around your neck. You stood there, making out roughly against the wall of the maze. As wild and sudden as this was, you wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.

Pietro noticed you two were gone for a really long time. He was beginning to get concerned, and pulled out his phone ready to call one of you. Turns out he didn’t need to.

You two came out of the maze, only you weren’t alone. You and Wanda each had a security guard holding your arm. After you two were out of the maze completely, they let you go and walked off. It was then that Pietro noticed both of your disheveled states. And he could swear he saw two or three hickeys forming on your neck.

“No you didn’t-” He started, but you cut him off.

“Not a word.” Your hand found it’s way to Wanda’s as you guys walked towards the exit of the park, figuring it’d be bad Avengers press if you guys stayed any longer at this point. You had an awesome night anyway, and didn’t care if it ended a little early. Besides, you had a feeling you’d get to have some more...fun when you got back to the compound.

You didn’t notice Pietro high five Wanda’s free hand.

#wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader

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arcadejohn127-9 · 3 years

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Can we get the brothers and undatables being at one of Diavolos parties and a nobles starts telling MC that The brothers and undatables don’t really care about them. They start telling them that they are just Diavolos pawn and Lilliths replacement. BTW I love your writing it’s honestly some of my favorite pieces in the fandom.

Some of-of your f-favourite pieces in the fandom??!! Um Chile anyways- OMG!! Y'all are too sweet to me!!! Thank you so much!

I'm not going to lie, I got shocked when I saw another requested this as I just finished writing section for this ask but my brain is dumb and really focused on one sentence and read it utterly wrong

Part 2 - ending

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"ah, so you're the human I've been hearing so much about."

You turned around to see a Noble, you bowed at him with a smile.

"oh- hello, who are you? If the human you've been hearing about is (Y/N) then Yep! That's me!"

"splendid! I'm so glad I finally get to meet you, I've heard so much from Diavolo and news sources, you wouldn't mind humouring me for a dance and talk?"

"it'll be my honour." You took his arm, letting him guide you to the dance floor.

You could feel the brothers eyes on you, watching closely to how you rested your hands on the demons shoulder. All of them slowly stalking as you two danced.

"what is it like being a human in the Devildom?"

"scary...at first but now I feel like it's my home! I really can't imagine being anywhere else."

"free housings, connections to the most powerful beings in this realm and outside, pacts with the the 7 brothers and having them do anything you desire."

"I mean- I guess? It's nothing like that or that I'm using them, it's a long story - I love them all very much."

"you may not be using them but they're definitely using you, we're demons after all and there is nothing more precious to us than a soul likes yours."

You were suddenly pulled through the crowd, his dancing becoming quicker and sharp as if sensing the brothers watching him.

"don't you realize you're just the princes pawn? A small piece of a puzzle of his 'plans' - do you really think a demon of his importance would really care about bringing peace?! It's all but a ruse and you're just helping him fulfil it."

"that's not true! Diavolo is a kind and thoughtful man, he wants peace and I will be a stepping stone for that to happen - after all I am a link to all three realms."

"human with demon pacts and ancestral connections to both the brothers and angels - how is it being the ancestor to Lilith? I heard she was a real doll but such a shame she risked it all for some moral, have they ever compared you two?"

"how do you know about my ancestor? They've- never properly made a comparison and I'm sure they mean it in an affectionate way-!"

"don't you ever feel like a replacement? I heard since the discovery they've treated you even better, that can't be a coincidence."

Your blood went cold as your heart collapsed into your stomach. Your eyes glancing to the brothers In the distance. You knew he wasn't right but apart of you was scared. After all, he knew so much that you didn't think anyone outside of your social circle would know. How did he know all this?

"we went through something really traumatic together, it was bound to make us closer-"

"just admit it, you know you're being use but you just won't accept it because you're scared of facing and truth and being left - is there something unpleasant waiting for you in the human world? Is that why you're so willing to be preyed upon?"

"it's not like that..."

He suddenly dipped you, you clutched to his shoulder as tears glazed your eyes.

"isn't it? Can you confidently say it isn't?"

"yes.." your voice came out shaky and distant, you wanted to be confident but you couldn't.

"they don't care about you, all they want is to use you, make it easier on yourself and leave, run as fast as you can and never come back to the devildom."

Lucifer:

He was the first to reach you after your dance with the Noble

He twirled you so you would face him

"what did he say to you? You're crying."

"it's nothing..."

He opened his mouth to press on but he saw you grit your teeth

Glaring at the dance floor as you two stepped to the music

"If he threatened you then I'll handle him, it's no issue for me to do so."

You just shook your head

"stop being so overprotective, I know you don't actually like having to look after me, just stop forcing yourself."

"That's not true, I look after you because I care about you, it's become more than a duty."

You just clicked your tongue, pushing yourself away from him, disappearing into the crowd

Mammon:

Mammon held your hand, hugging you from behind as you two swayed

"You don't look too happy, are you overwhelmed?"

"I am now that you're here."

Which wasn't a lie, you felt so conflicted and betrayed, having him around just made you want to cry

He frowned, spinning you around

"oi, what's that all about? If I did something you gotta be honest with me,I swear I didn't steal nothing."

"I'd prefer it if you did, then being mad at you wouldn't feel so horrible."

He raised a brow

He was completely confused on why you were acting like this

"Was it that noble guy? Did he say something to you? I swear when I find him-"

You shook your head, moving away from him

"You're not going to do anything, you're a coward - just stop pestering me."

You felt awful but you didn't do anything to fix it, just running away from the shocked demon

Levithan:

"You here to take a break? Join you, I will."

He pointed to the empty spot smiling at himself for his Yoda voice

You wanted to feel bad but right now you were extremely upset

"Yeah, I do, I don't want to be around anyone right now."

"I get that but Lucifer said someone's has to be with you but I don't blame you for not wanting me to do it-"

You snarled

"can you not make this about you?! I just don't wanna deal with anymore demons!"

You shuffled closer into yourself, eyes subconsciously finding the noble you talked to

Levi followed your gaze, his Insecure angst turning into annoyance

"That noble did something....it's okay to speak up, we can go to prince-"

"go away! I don't want to keep hearing you pretend to care about me!"

He was stunned

You suddenly stood up and trudged away from Levi, seeking out the bathroom

Satan:

You ducked away from the crowd of demons

Sticking close to the wall as you clutched your arms

The nobles clawing at your mind as you stared to the side

"Did you enjoy the dancing? You look tired, I know a good hiding spot."

"Where is it?"

"I'll take you there-"

He went to grab your shoulder but you just shrugged him away

Not daring to look at him

"just tell me where it is, I'll get there on my own just fine."

Satan turned his head, trying to get a better look at your expression

But you just stepped away from him

"if you're not going to tell me I'm going to go find it myself-"

He grabbed your wrist, cutting you off

"Was it that noble? What did he say to you?"

His anger flared as he glared at the noble

You Yanked your wrist away, frowning

"wouldn't you like to know?! Just let me- just let me breathe-!"

He paused, inhaling a deep breath

You took that moment to run off, wanting to escape the situation

Asmodeus:

"oh (Y/N)~!! I'm so glad you're finally free, when I saw that guy dancing with you I got so jealous, I thought you were going to give me all your dances?"

He playfully pouted whilst holding your hands

When he saw you weren't smiling his chipper mood immediately dropped

You moved away from him, Unable to pull your thoughts together

"what's wrong..? Did he say something?"

You shook your head

Should you tell him? But what if they treat you different?

What if it really is all a fake?

"I just need to get some air."

"oh! I'll come with you!"

He springed up, grabbing your hand once again

You threw yourself back in panick

"NO-! I mean- no thank you."

You quickly dashed to the nearest balcony ignoring the murmurs in the ballroom

Beezlebub:

You bumped into one of the many buffet tables

Avoiding an active ballroom wasn't easy

"you're not dancing anymore? Want to sit with me?"

You jumped, somehow surprised Beel was at a buffet table

"no....I'm good, I'm going to the dorm."

"Already? Do you need me to walk you home? It's pretty late."

You shook your head

You wanted to chew him out for being so kind of you

Your overwhelming emotions rising as you tried to stay dismissive

"Just tell the Brothers I'm leaving, I think I'm going to head back home."

Beel raised a brow

You looked away from his confused expression

"my real home, I need to leave the Devildom."

"you're upset from your dance with the noble, we can talk about instead of you leaving-"

"I need a break."

You repeated, your voice becoming irritated and cold

You held back your frustration and left the party

Belphegor:

"Are you leaving?"

You yelped, knocking your hand on the main door

You just wanted to slip out of the party but it seems you'd have to confront one of the brothers

Belphegor yawned, rubbing his eye

He was sleeping in the coat closet until you woke him up by your footsteps

"yes- I'm tired of this party."

"I'm tired aswell, let's go together, I'm ready to sleep."

He shuffled out of the closet but you put your hands out Infront of you

"go sleep in the palace, I don't want to be around you or-or any of you-!"

"Was it that noble? I felt jealous when I saw you two dancing together but now it seems I shouldn't of, he said something to you, didn't he? What did he say?"

You didn't even realize he saw you or was awake when that happened

You backed up until you bumped into the door

Belphegor cornered you

Wanting his questions answered but you just shoved him back

"leave me alone-! I know you're just see me as an replacement!"

You slammed the door after you and sprinted back to the dorms

UNDATEABLES↓

Diavolo:

"I see you're expanding your circle, I'm glad- why do you look so upset?"

"it's nothing, my Lord-"

You both stopped

You haven't referred to him like that since the beginning of the exchange program

He leaned down to get a better look at you, eyes darting over the conflicted and slightly Horrified expression

Both of your gazes landed on the noble

"What did he say to you? If he made you uncomfortable or threatened you, I'll deal with this-"

He tried to give you a comforting pat on the shoulder but you pushed your body away

"Quit it! Stop trying to act like you care."

You were sure if people saw your interaction they'd be glaring at you

Thinking of your audacity

But Diavolo was worried about you

He knew that Nobel has hurt you

"I do care for you, we all do - please tell me what happened."

You covered your ears, tears pricking your eyes

You shook your head and ran away

Needing space to figure out your thoughts and your emotions

Barbatos:

You trudged past Everyone, growing irritated with yourself

Were you really going to believe that guy? But it seemed to make sense

If it wasn't right then why did you feel this way?

"here, you look as if you need it."

He hands you a handkerchief

You took it slowly, looking at him with distrust

You frowned as he just smiled at you patiently

"why do you even care? Is it because of the prince?"

"I'm simply helping because I desire to, it seems Someone is causing an issue with you."

"Don't you know everything? You should know exactly what's wrong....you don't have to keep acting all vague in hopes it'll throw me off, I know you all are-"

He tilted his head, eyes squinting with an almost annoyed expression

"nevermind....Just leave me alone."

"I will but it is best to remind you that the Noble you're trusting Is not the type of man you want to be around, he is using you not the other way round."

Your froze

Unsure how to respond, you clutched the handkerchief as you gritted your teeth

You quickly ran off not wanting to confront your emotions

Solomon:

Isn't this Fun? I've even made a few pacts whilst here-"

"why are we even here? Do you ever feel like we're not actually wanted? Just being used?"

Your eyes flickered between Diavolo and the noble

Rubbing your arm as you tried to soothe yourself

Solomon followed your eyes

Clicking his tongue

"I see, that nobles gotten to your head, don't fear my apprentice, I'll fix this."

He rolled up his sleeves but you just grabbed his arm

You felt stupid for thinking you two could be on the same thought process

Was it really just the Nobel Getting to you???

But what you're feeling feels so real and so genuine - this feeling of just being a pawn or a replacement to them

"No...it's silly to think we'd be on the same page, they have much more history with you meanwhile all I have is being their sister's ancestor."

You walked off leaving the wizard to mewl over your words

You didn't stay to find out what would happen now that Solomon knew the gist of what the Nobel said to you

Simeon:

As you charged away from the party you suddenly bumped into Someone

Simeon grabbed your arms as he steadied you

But that's when he noticed your teary eyes

"Oh, what's wrong? You look upset."

"I want to leave this party."

You frowned, holding his arms whilst he held you

You glanced at the demons on the dance floor

"Are you sure? The brothers will be upset with your sudden disappearance-"

You huffed

Pushing yourself away from Simeon as. got ready to just leave by yourself

"if you don't take me back then I'll just go myself."

He was caught off by your sudden change in mood

Realizing something really harsh must of happened he grabbed your hands and wiped under your eye

"Wipe your tears, I'm sure Luke will be thrilled to see you in purgatory hall."

And just like that he walked you out of ball

A few shouts from the brothers rang in your eyes but you just sped up your pace

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #gamingclubpresident #aracadejohn217 9 #obey me mc #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me beezlebub #obey me belphegor #obey me demon brothers #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me levithan #obey me luficer #obey me imagine #obey me x reader

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fruitydiaz-archived · 3 years

Text

safe (with you)

s5 speculation based on the new bts because idk how to be normal about this

3,049 words

AO3 link

By the time they pull into Eddie’s driveway Buck’s hands still haven’t stopped shaking.

He vividly remembers that day he spent driving around Los Angeles with Abby, searching for her mom, the day they saved the little girl in the pool. He remembers the way he lined his hand up with hers and told her that the first couple of weeks on the job he couldn’t keep his hands from shaking with the adrenaline. But Abby was good at compartmentalizing; her hands never shook.

Buck still hasn’t learned how to do that with the people he cares about. He’s beginning to think he never will.

Eddie had been held hostage for under two hours and made it out unscathed, and yet Buck couldn’t get his fucking hands to stop shaking. He felt like a wire with the coating stripped off, ripped down the middle, frayed open, ready to spark and catch fire at any moment. But he’d been feeling like that a lot lately if he was being honest. Not that anyone asked.

And he didn’t expect anyone to because everyone else had their own problems and it was his job at the moment to just pull his shoulders back and keep it together. That was all he was supposed to do. He could do that.

“Uh, let me get your bag,” Buck mumbles as Eddie opens his side door to climb out. He switches the engine off and jumps out before he can see the glare Eddie shoots in his direction.

He still feels it anyway.

“I can get my own bag,” Eddie says, his tone flat. He feels too tired to argue but there’s an energy vibrating under his skin that he hasn’t been able to shake since they pulled up to the scene and he found himself staring down the barrel of someone else’s gun. It’s making him irritable and jumpy and all he wants to do is climb into bed and forget.

Buck doesn’t even grace him with a response, pulling both of their bags out of the back seat and slinging them over his shoulders, glancing once at Eddie before marching towards the front door.

“Nothing even happened to me, Buck,” Eddie calls after him, following on his heels. “I’m fine.”

Buck still doesn’t say anything as he pulls out his ring of keys and unlocks the front door. He slips off his shoes in the entryway and drops both of their bags by the couch. Eddie follows him into the kitchen.

“Buck - Buck, come on man you don’t have to take care of me I’m-“

“Stop telling me that you’re fine,” Buck growls suddenly, spinning around to face Eddie. “I am sick and tired of hearing it. You got shot, Eddie, okay? Five months ago you got shot and you started having panic attacks and you hid it from me.”

Eddie blinks at Buck for a second, shocked, before his brain kicks back on. Being around Buck is one of the easiest things for Eddie to do, but the moment Buck starts to care too much, when he starts to push - either with wide eyes full of nothing but love and care that make him want to crawl into himself and never come back out - or like this, with venom and anger that coat the underlying fear and worry, it becomes hard.

He defaults to anger. He wishes it wasn’t so easy but it’s the one thing he’s been prepared to do his whole life; fight.

“I wasn’t hiding it from you. I was managing it on my own.”

“You’re my partner.”

“Yeah, and it wasn’t about work,” Eddie stresses, feeling antsy. He turns away from Buck and takes a couple of steps around the corner. He needs to put some space between them. “It was personal, okay? And I dealt with it.”

“Right,” Buck said, voice dripping with the kind of bitterness that Eddie can feel creeping onto his own tongue. “Because you don’t panic anymore, right?”

Eddie’s eyes flick down. The familiar sensation of bile laced with the accusation of liar rises in his throat and he struggles to swallow it down. He still panics; he just didn’t think anyone noticed.

“I can handle it on my own,” Eddie says quietly.

“When are you going to realize that you don’t have to?” Buck pleads, leaning against the counter opposite Eddie. “When are you going to let me help you?”

“I don’t need help,” Eddie says, retreating back and looking anywhere but at Buck. God, he was just trapped at gunpoint for nearly two hours can he catch a fucking break? He feels like he can’t breathe.

“Eddie.”

“I’m fine.”

“Eddie, you got shot.” Buck is begging him to talk about it, screaming practically. And he’s been screaming for weeks, months, doing all but dropping to his knees in front of Eddie and begging him to open up and talk to him about it and Eddie gets it but ultimately. Ultimately.

Eddie wishes Buck would shut up.

You got shot, remember?

He wishes he could make him shut up. He wishes he could make Buck leave his apartment and get back into his jeep and drive to his own place and never fucking talk about any of this again. Because of course he remembers getting shot. He remembers all of it.

He remembers standing out in the middle of the street thinking about hopping into the ambulance with Charlie right before a bullet ripped through his one good shoulder. That’s four times now. He remembers hitting the hard cement and feeling the blood pool under his body, remembers the familiar sickly feeling that comes with the realization that you’re losing too much blood, before you start to lose your grip on the world around you. He remembers staring across the pavement at Buck and thinking it would be okay, because Buck was okay.

He remembers waking up in the hospital, drugged up and confused and searching for blue eyes and a blood-splattered face. He remembers waking up to Ana smiling down at him with watery eyes and he remembers the way she barely concealed her disappointment when he immediately asked for Buck - but he was passed caring at that point. He remembers the day he had to wait, slipping in and out of consciousness, Ana making occasional small talk, until he was finally cleared for more visitors, and Buck came rushing into the room like a vision of something holy, his face clean, his smile bright.

He remembers the moment Buck said he wished he had gotten shot instead and when Eddie slipped back into another drug-induced sleep the only words on his mind were no, not you. Never you.

He remembers sitting on the edge of the hospital bed with Buck, the distance between them too much and not enough at the same time. He remembers struggling to find the right words, fumbling to find his footing, feeling stripped bare as he told Buck that he loved him. But the words came out you act like you’re expendable, but you’re wrong instead.

He remembers never feeling so cracked open and vulnerable in his entire life and it was terrifying. So he did what he does best and he retreated into the shadows and licked his wounds in private and put himself back together as best he could so that the next time someone saw him they didn’t look at him as if he were about to break.

And maybe it was a shit job and he still felt like he was barely held together by string most days but he was doing fine. He was back at work and Christopher was still happy even without Ana around and he was making it work.

So he didn’t give a damn if Buck thought he wasn’t doing enough. He didn’t want to relive the shooting again, he had moved on. He was fine.

He was fine.

Or at least, he was fine up until 7 hours ago when they got a call to an office building that turned into a goddamn hostage situation and Eddie spent the better part of an hour with a gun to his head.

He was fine.

“Eddie, Eddie,” Buck’s voice is loud and sudden in his ear and Eddie startles, staring up at him. He blinks a couple of times before he realizes that he’s on the floor and that Buck’s kneeling over him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Buck’s saying over and over again. “I shouldn’t have pushed you, fuck, I’m sorry.”

Fuck. Another panic attack.

Maybe he can’t pretend that he’s fine anymore.

“Buck,” Eddie says. Buck’s eyes fly to his and Eddie feels the bile rise again when he realizes Buck is crying.

This isn’t the first time tonight that Buck has cried. Over him.

“I’m so sorry, Eds,” Buck says again, his voice worn, and Eddie remembers him screaming. For him. “I just almost lost you again and I’m so fucking sick of it. I can’t keep doing this.”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says because he doesn’t know what else to say.

Buck stares at him for a second, eyes wild, before he squeezes them shut and stretches his legs out in front of him, settling down on the floor across from Eddie.

It’s dark in Eddie’s apartment, the only light spilling in from the entryway, cloaking the two of them in warm dim light.

Eddie always found it easier being honest in the dark.

“I’m scared too,” He admits quietly. Buck’s eyes look too blue in the dark.

“I know. I’m sorry I’ve been so pushy. I just…I never wanted to make what happened about me…but I can see you struggling and it’s like - the only thing I know how to do is push. I can see it eating away at you.”

“I want to forget it ever happened,” Eddie says quickly, honestly.

Buck licks his lips. Nervous. “I get that. But…ignoring it doesn’t mean it never happened, you know?”

“It just…feels easier.”

“It’s killing you, Eddie.”

I was never meant to live this long anyway, is on the tip of Eddie’s tongue - but that’s too dark. Too much. Too honest. He shoves it back down.

One day something’s going to take him. Maybe it’ll be a bullet, maybe it won’t. Maybe it’ll be the crushing guilt he’s carried ever since he was a kid, too young to learn what that kind of guilt felt like.

“At least Chris will be taken care of if it does,” He says before he can stop himself, before he can remind himself that that’s something he shouldn’t say out loud. The pained look on Buck’s face feels like a slap in the face.

“What about you?” Buck grinds out, voice still hoarse. “Who the fuck is gonna take care of you - now?”

Eddie shrugs, “I can take care of myself.”

“Bullshit,” Buck snaps. “Full offense but I’ve seen the way you care for yourself.”

“It’s what I do, Buck,” Eddie says, leaning his head back against the cabinets and squeezing his eyes shut. “It’s - I can handle myself. I can’t…do this to anyone else. It was too much for Shannon - hell, even as a kid I was too much for my parents. I can’t.”

“Let me take care of you,” Buck says quickly and earnestly and the words shoot straight through Eddie’s heart. He couldn’t.

“No,” Eddie starts, sitting up straighter.

“Eddie, I can’t lose you,” Buck says with enough conviction to shut Eddie up for a second.

Because some part of Eddie has always been aware of the lengths to which Buck would crawl through fire and rain for him - because that’s who Buck is. Buck is the guy who puts everyone else before him, who will always put his life on the line first. Not because he wants to be the hero - but because he never thinks his own life is important enough to stop and consider the consequences.

Or at least, that’s what Eddie thought. But Eddie’s seen him hesitate more lately. He’s seen him pull back, actually listen to Bobby. And Eddie thought it was the will that was holding him back. And that was almost enough to soothe the constant ache in his chest.

But then Eddie got taken hostage. And it was like they were on that street again. And Eddie watched the fear strike Buck like a bolt of lightning, lighting him up from head to toe, nervous electricity in his veins. He saw the raw determination in his eyes, the devotion and instinct at war with responsibility and promise.

For a second, among the buzz at the base of his skull and the shrill ambiance of police cars, swat, and the ambulance, it hit Eddie. It wasn’t Buck being Buck. It was Eddie. It was Eddie that turned off every switch in Buck’s brain but his inherent instincts. It was Eddie in danger that broke him.

Eddie had never seen it before. And he’s been trying his damned best to shove it in the box labeled DO NOT TOUCH along with all of the other shit he’s been ignoring for the last five months.

It seems like it’s all coming out tonight.

Buck continues, “I don’t. I don’t want to do this without you. I can’t. Five months ago you sat with me in the hospital and - everyone always tells me that I’m reckless, you know? Or that I’m dumb or that I don’t think or that I want to be some hero. But you…you didn’t say any of that. And - and you made me feel like I was important. Like my life…was important. Is important. And I needed that, Eddie. So bad.

“Let me do the same thing for you,” Buck’s on the edge of begging again. “What do I have to do for you to realize that you’re important? That I need you? Because I do. God, Eddie, I need you…”

Eddie stares at him, wide-eyed and frozen in place. He’s never been loved like this before, has he?

Because that’s what this is. There’s no denying it anymore. That’s what Buck and Eddie do. They love each other. With some sort of deep-running unbreakable devotion that wraps around them constantly and pulls them closer and closer together.

That’s what Eddie’s been fighting all these months. The closeness.

Because it was easy before - to keep getting closer to Buck because it was safe, it meant they cared about each other, it meant that Buck would do his best to get Eddie home to his son and if all else failed Chris would have someone who loved him, who would look after him. That was good. That was safe.

But when the shooting happened and I have your back turned into I can’t live without you and Eddie realized that what he thought was a contingency plan that he had been slowly and methodically setting up was actually a living breathing family that they’d built - and all of a sudden the only way he ever wanted to live his life was with Buck and Christopher safely by his side - it wasn’t safe anymore. It was dangerous.

Eddie had been fighting so hard to keep Buck at arm's length so he could protect this system that he had come to rely on. Because now when he looked at Buck all he could see was the love and devotion reflecting back at Eddie. And that was terrifying.

Because Eddie had opened himself up to being loved before. And that ended in years of separation, divorce, and ultimately Shannon’s death. Maybe Eddie didn’t believe in signs - or maybe he just wanted to keep pretending the signs weren’t there. Because he was fairly certain that if the universe did send signs then Shannon’s death was the ultimate sign of them all, a symbol of what Eddie did to people.

He didn’t want to let Buck love him because he didn’t want to risk losing Buck.

But he is risking losing Buck the more he pushes him away…he’s risking breaking Buck. And ultimately he’s risking breaking himself. Because he can’t do this without Buck either.

“I need you too,” Eddie says, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to - I’m sorry. I’m just - I’m scared, Buck. I’m so scared.”

He’s crying. It’s like a dam broke loose with the quiet admittance and now it’s all coming out. He’s scared. He’s frightened. He’s terrified. He’s in love.

Buck’s crowding into his space, shoving himself up onto his knees between Eddie’s legs and crushing their bodies together, his long arms wrapping around Eddie and pulling him into his chest, tucking his head under Buck’s chin until he feels safe, protected, in Buck’s arms.

“I’ve got you,” Buck whispers into Eddie’s hair. Just a couple of hours ago they were in this same position, on the grass outside the office building, just after Eddie was released and SWAT rolled in. Eddie thinks that the safest place on earth might be right here in Buck’s arms.

“I can’t lose you either,” Eddie croaks, hands clawing at Buck’s back. “I can’t.”

“You won’t,” Buck says with the stubborn confidence that’s inherent to Buck. And Eddie believes him, he does. “Whatever you need, I’ve got you, okay?”

“I need you.”

“You’ve got me. You always have, Eddie,” Buck whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of Eddie’s head.

I love you is what he wants to say. He wants to say it every day; when Buck walks into the locker room and greets Eddie with a private smile like it’s not 6 am and he’d rather be anywhere else, when he bumps Eddie’s shoulder as they walk to the truck, when he pulls his helmet off after a tough call and holds eye contact with Eddie just long enough to communicate are you good?

Maybe he can’t say it just yet.

Maybe this isn’t the right time or place.

But he thinks Buck knows. And he thinks - no he knows, Buck feels the same.

Maybe one day they’ll get there.

But tonight it’s enough to just hold each other, to feel the solid, warm reminder that they’re alive.

It’s enough, for now, to just be together.

#all i do now is write speculation #911 spoilers #my fic #if this is all over the place it's bc i was all over the place while trying to write it all day yesterday #if it's riddled with errors no it's not <3 #my other wip that i was almost done with before this consumed me: am i a joke to you?#google doc titled: oh boy

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alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer · 3 years

Text

romeo must die

this one-shot is based on the song Romeo Must Die by Gabrielle Aplin, I highly recommend listening to it! shout out to @eugeniaslongsword for introducing me to it :) i even borrowed some lyrics from it haha. it is also inspired by the entire playlist I made, "being treated badly by someone doesn't make you love them more"

content warnings: past toxic/unhealthy relationship, the uncomfy 6-year age gap between Alastair and Charles

Masterlist | Read on AO3

"Alastair, may I speak to you privately for a moment?"

Alastair looked up from what he was working on. He was in the library of the Institute, along with Cordelia, Thomas, James, Matthew, and Christopher. They were searching for any clue as to how Lucie had done what she’d done or what Tatiana and Belial were planning. Alastair wasn't entirely sure how he got roped into the ordeal, but it seemed as though Thomas suggested him as an extra set of eyes, and Cordelia latched onto the idea.

"No," he said curtly, returning to his reading.

"Excuse me?"

"I said no. I'm quite busy at the moment." Alastair spoke under his breath, not wanting to draw the others' attention. How many times had Charles barked the same words at him, swatting him away, hacking away at paperwork or planning his next step in his career? The words sat bittersweet in his chest.

"Surely you could spare a few moments."

"I certainly could. But I do not wish to." Charles had a way of getting into his head and twisting his words and his feelings. It was not an experience he wished to revisit. It was better here, with an audience. It had also been easier in the infirmary, knowing that he held all of the power. His father had made him feel the same way, he thought bitterly. He understood now that what he'd done at school was not only to protect himself from the bullies. He wanted to reclaim the power stolen from him by his father; he wanted for once in his life to hold power himself. He hadn't yet come to the realization that holding that kind of power did nothing but harm. It was of no use, anyways, because it didn't matter how much he perfected his tongue and his wit on the other students at the Academy, he was never able to use it when it counted. Not with Elias, and not with Charles.

"It's fine if you need to take a few minutes, Alastair,” Cordelia said gently. All of the eyes in the room had come to rest on the two of them. Now he wished he’d spoken louder.

“It’s alright, Charles was just leaving.”

He had hoped that Charles would give up and leave knowing that everyone was watching him, but he was determined. He grabbed Alastair’s arm. “It’ll just be-”

Alastair stood, but pulled his arm away. “Don’t touch me.”

In a flicker, Alastair saw it: the anxiety began to set in. Charles began to realize that he would not be able to play his usual tricks. “Why are you acting like this?”

“I believe I was quite clear when I told you I don’t wish to speak with you. You’re the one who can’t let this go.”

“Must you act so childish?”

He rolled his eyes. “Must you always call me childish for thinking for myself instead of catering to your every whim?”

“I don’t understand. You said we were fine.”

Alastair sighed. Perhaps for a moment, he thought that was true. For just a second, he thought there was a world where he and Charles could be friends. But Alastair had decided that he would no longer call people who hurt him his friends. “Yes, well, I lied. I wanted to let you down gently, but it’s clear to me now that it must be spelled out for you. How shall I put this? You and I are past our dancing days, Charles.”

“But-” He stammered, searching for words. “What happened with Grace Blackthorn wasn’t my fault.”

“Maybe not. But what of Miss Bridgestock? Am I to pretend that what happened with Miss Blackthorn was not the same as what happened two years earlier?”

“You told me many times that you took no issue with that, that you understood.”

“I understood what you told me, which we both know was never the full truth. I was a sixteen year old desperate for your affections, and the fact that you truly believe I never had any issue with your arrangement is proof that you never genuinely cared about me or listened to my thoughts. I told you in the infirmary that this wasn’t your fault because I thought it’d ease the pain, but I lied. And I don’t have time to sit here and watch you cry over it.”

Alastair wished that watching Charles become flustered would have been more enjoyable. Instead, all he wanted was for this to end. “You- you’re different than when we met. You’ve changed. You’re cruel and callous, I don’t understand how I could not see how heartless you were until now. You are everything that everyone claims you to be. How am I to even know what the truth is when it comes from your lips?”

There was a time when those words would have cut deeply into him, eating at his every insecurity, but Charles mistakenly assumed that Alastair was the same person he was last July, with the same insecurities. “When we met, I was fourteen years old. I’ve grown up, and it is time for you to do the same. It’s been six months, Charles. You need to stop writing me. If that makes me heartless, I don’t care. And if you wish to know the truth, the truth is that the moment you leave here, if I never see your face again, it still will not be long enough.”

Charles stared at him for a long while, unable to find a proper retort. In the end, it was Matthew who stepped in. “Charles, I believe it’s time for you to go.”

He obliged, finally turning to leave the library. As he began to walk away, however, Alastair knew that he was not finished. His heart beat a little bit faster at the thought of such a confession, and faster again when he realized who would hear it, but there was no piece of parting with Charles that he wished to regret.

“Wait,” he said. Charles froze and turned to look at him. “I know it’s unlikely that you have it in the cold depths of your soul to care, but let the record show that I would have given you everything. I would have given you my life, all of the love and trust that I had to give, and then I would have given more. And you gave me nothing. So the next time you’re pondering my heartlessness, you ought to wonder what that means for you.”

Finally satisfied, Alastair did not wait for Charles to turn and leave again to return to his seat and pick his reading back up. He waited for a moment, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of everyone’s eyes on him. He stood once more, opening his mouth to speak, but the words were caught in his throat. Instead, he walked out of the library in silence.

Finding the nearest balcony, he attempted to steady his breath.

“Are you alright?” He heard from behind him. Thomas. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

He shook his head. “I just needed some air.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Alastair sighed. He backed up against the window and slid down to the floor of the balcony. “I know- I know that everyone sort of knew already, but… by the Angel, I feel so pathetic.”

“You’re not pathetic,” Thomas told him, sitting down beside him.

“You were right, of course you were. I was so… taken with him, back in Paris. I couldn’t see him for what he was. I was so naive, so foolish. I just- After everything I’ve seen, everything I’ve been through, how did I not realize-”

Thomas put his hand on Alastair’s knee. “You wanted to see the best in him. After everything you’d seen and been through, you wanted to believe that there were still good and honest people in the world. And there are. I’m sorry that he was not one of them, but that does not make you foolish or pathetic. It makes you… kind.”

“I bet you’d never imagined describing me as such before.”

“It seems you’re full of surprises,” Thomas teased. “But that’s not true. I always saw the kindness in you, even back at school, when you did everything to keep it hidden.”

“As you can see, my ‘kindness’ has never gotten me very far.”

“You were out of practice. Following me on my reckless nighttime patrols, that was kind. More than kind. I don’t think I ever thanked you for that, for risking your life to protect mine.”

“I didn’t do it for gratitude.”

“And yet I owe you mine nonetheless.”

“I can’t go back in there, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can tolerate you and your friends hating me just fine. But if any of your friends give me even an ounce of pity- well, we’ll see just where the limits of my kindness lie, won’t we?”

Thomas stood up, offering Alastair his hand. “Pity comes from those who cannot even begin to understand what you’ve experienced. For what it’s worth, I don’t think my friends will pity you. But if they do, you can ignore them. For Lucie.”

Alastair sighed and allowed Thomas to pull him to his feet. “Fine. Let’s get back to reading.”

“Speaking of reading, do you have the entirety of Shakespeare’s canon memorized, or only the lines you believe may pop up in conversation?”

“Excuse me?”

“‘For you and I are past our dancing days,’ it’s Romeo and Juliet, isn’t it? It’s the only one of his works that I got through.”

Alastair froze. “You haven’t read Hamlet?”

“I tried.”

“Othello? King Lear? Macbeth? Midsummer Night’s Dream?”

He shook his head.

“That’s impossible. And James is friends with you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Wait until my sister finds out you haven’t read Hamlet,” he warned, starting towards the library with urgency in his step.

“Wait, don’t- I just don’t like Shakespeare! What’s so wrong with that?” Thomas’ attempts at reasoning were futile, however, a welcome distraction from all of their recent sorrows finally taking hold.

Thanks for reading!! This was self indulgent af lol. I'm not to sure whether some people only wanted to be tagged in my social media AU, so if that's the case I'm sorry & please tell me!: @stxr-thxif @chaos-and-starlight @lifewouldbebetteronmars @littlx-songbxrd @dianasarrow @eugeniaslongsword @bookswitchcraftandcats @jamesherondaleofficial @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @livingformyself @anarmorofwords @foxglove-airmid @writeforjordelia @sapphic-in @thecodexsays @fortheloveofthecarstairs @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @shadowrunner2000 @thewarthatsavedmylife @fair-childd @icouldnotask @shadowhunting-hooligans @melanielocke @clarys-heosphoros @kiwichaeng @lightwoodsimp @thecrimsonsorceresss @theenchanteddreamer @adams-left-hand @yozinha-z @ipromiseiwillwrite @skirtsandsweaters @goodoldfashionednerd

#alastair carstairs #charles fairchild #if you're a charles apologist just block me #thomas lightwood #thomastair #tlh #the last hours #cw toxic relationship #coi spoilers #fanfiction #fanfic

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Delight in Misery (ao3) - part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

- Chapter 7 -

“Why are you covered in feathers?” Jiang Cheng asked, and then immediately afterward added, “On second thought, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know.”

Lan Wangji checked himself over and brushed off the few feathers that had ended up on his shoulder. “Are there any others?” he asked solemnly. “They might be evidence.”

Jiang Cheng’s eye twitched, as Lan Wangji had intended. “I don’t want to know,” he repeated, and Lan Wangji believed it about as much as he’d believed it the first time Jiang Cheng said it – which was to say, not at all. “I don’t want to…okay, fine, tell me.”

“You don’t want to know,” Lan Wangji informed him, and Jiang Cheng looked as though he was considering strangling him. “I will explain later. For the moment, it is best to pretend as if you know nothing.”

“I really don’t know anything,” Jiang Cheng said.

“That will make pretending easier.”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes at him, but stopped arguing, and Lan Wangji felt warmth in his belly at the instant capitulation. All of his life experiences had conspired to make Jiang Cheng an untrusting person, suspicious almost to the point of paranoia and constantly afraid of losing everything to the unknown, and yet he chose to trust Lan Wangji without question.

“Is there anything else I should know?” Jiang Cheng asked with one of his friendlier scowls, crossing his arms over his chest. “Or not know, as the case may be?”

Lan Wangji considered for a moment. “Don’t count the number of Jiang sect disciples leaving with you,” he suggested, and Jiang Cheng’s eyebrows shot up. “Consider storming out in a fury the next time someone insults you.”

“You were right,” Jiang Cheng said. “I didn’t want to know.”

Lan Wangji heard footsteps and put his hands behind his back. “Naturally, Sect Leader Jiang is entitled to change his mind. I understand it happens often.”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes narrowed. “You must be struggling with coming out of seclusion, Hanguang-jun,” he remarked. “To come mucking around with the rest of us after spending so long on - avoiding worldly matters, let’s say.”

The sect leaders passing by sped up with expressions suggesting that they were dreadfully curious but did not want to get involved in a repeat of the fight that was rather infamously had throughout the Lotus Pier, with all of the attendant property damage (that they’d paid for later, but still).

Once they’d passed, Lan Wangji gave Jiang Cheng a look that suggested he did not appreciate the joke. Jiang Cheng appeared undeterred.

He also appeared, on closer examination, somewhat tired.

Lan Wangji frowned and stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You have not slept.”

“I’m fine,” Jiang Cheng said, and realized his mistake at once – such excess vehemence meant that he was lying, and badly, too. “It’s your fault, anyway.”

“My fault?”

“Entirely your fault. I can’t eat my lunch without wondering why you’re not plucking away on your guqin the way you normally do at that hour, I can’t finish my paperwork without trying to find you to ask for your views, I can’t sleep without hearing you making noise next door…who made you fit yourself in so well at the Lotus Pier?”

“You,” Lan Wangji said dryly, ignoring the warmth he felt. Surely it was wrong to feel touched when someone’s unhealthy co-dependence with you was mentioned. “When you kidnapped me.”

“It was only technically kidnapping,” Jiang Cheng grumbled. “And only at first, anyway…really, it’s no big deal. Just had a few bad nights.”

Jiang Cheng’s nights fell on a scale between decent, mediocre, bad, and genuinely horrific, and he generally only conceded that something was ‘bad’ when it fell toward the lower end of the scale – when his thoughts kept scattering like a flock of bird being chased off their perch, returning to circle around sore subjects and drill worries into his skull, when there would be blood and bile and panic and his mind would linger on anxieties he had long ago put aside in the light of day.

He hadn’t had one of those in months – and now he had had a few?

“Because I…?”

Jiang Cheng shook his head. “A-Ling had a temper tantrum last week,” he explained, voice low and more than a little helpless. “I think he misses you and A-Yuan, and he’s at the age for pushing his boundaries, too…he told me that his Wei-jiujiu wouldn’t have made him eat his vegetables.”

He would have, of course, Lan Wangji reflected. He remembered how Wei Wuxian had been with A-Yuan, always mercilessly teasing him. Wei Wuxian had a spine when it came to children, one that wouldn’t crack into a thousand pieces at the first sob – that was Jiang Cheng, who was all bluster and bark without the slightest bit of bite.

But that wasn’t the issue, not when Jiang Cheng’s soul was a patchwork of ragged wounds and insecurity, a lifetime of being second-best and second-loved, and on his worst days he would voice doubts that he’d even been esteemed as much as that.

By his father, by his mother, by his sister, by Wei Wuxian himself –

“Maybe he would’ve done better,” Jiang Cheng murmured, his eyes already blank with self-hatred – no doubt this was what had kept him up on those bad nights, the angry whispers of a too-fragile mind that said why did he leave me, why wasn’t I good enough, he said he’d stay by my side and then took the first chance he could to leave me behind, that said it couldn’t have been him that did all those things and betrayed me like that, no, he must have died earlier on and it was my fault for not noticing, that said if it’s all my fault then it all makes sense, it’s always because of me, no one ever stays with me.

That said if it’s my fault then it’ll happen again.

Lan Wangji did not like those nights.

“Mm,” he said mildly. “And then A-Ling would also know how to hide dirty pictures in awkward places.”

Lan Wangji had never been good at comforting people, having always been the one being comforted, and his failure to convey his feelings to Wei Wuxian during his life spoke volumes regarding his ability to communicate – but he knew Jiang Cheng.

After so long living together, he knew him.

(Jiang Cheng wasn’t the only one who had difficulty sleeping without those familiar sounds next door.)

Sure enough, Jiang Cheng choked, his eyes clearing up, and he spent the next few breaths struggling not to burst out laughing. “We’re supposed to be arguing,” he hissed at Lan Wangji, who smirked – from a distance it would certainly look as though they were arguing, Jiang Cheng’s cheeks all red and his shoulders shaking in what a stranger might mistake for rage. “You stone-faced bastard, that’s not funny.”

Lan Wangji disagreed. Jiang Cheng’s reaction was, in fact, extremely funny.

“We will need to diversify our collection of such things,” Lan Wangji said thoughtfully. “Given the inclinations of our future house guest…”

“I am not buying Mo Xuanyu pictures of – ! He can buy it himself if he wants…wait, you’re really planning to have him come with us?”

“He will die if he remains,” Lan Wangji said simply, because it was that simple. Their conversation, however brief, had been extremely informative. “And so he must not remain. We have concocted a plan.”

“We? I wasn’t involved in this.”

“Myself, and Nie Huaisang.”

Lan Wangji was expecting some sort of reaction to that – what, he wasn’t sure, possibly disbelief or ridicule or even panic that they were entrusting themselves to the most useless fop to grace the current generation of cultivators – but instead Jiang Cheng relaxed, looking pleased. “Oh, well, Nie Huaisang,” he said, as if that explained anything at all.

“You trust him?”

Jiang Cheng shrugged. “I don’t not trust him?” he hazarded, and seemed rather helplessly puzzled by his own ease with the situation. “He’s terrible at anything a sect heir ought to be good at, but he’ll come up with the wildest sort of things if it’s nonsense he’s after, and he usually gets his way in the end. He’s a pretty good judge as to how likely his chances at success are, too.”

“He’s smarter than he looks,” Lan Wangji agreed, his voice neutral.

“Don’t tell me you fell for his ‘who, me, a person capable of doing anything, surely not’ act,” Jiang Cheng said, looking vastly amused. Lan Wangji might normally object to such teasing, but if it got Jiang Cheng away from his dangerous self-hatred, he’d take it – even if the idea that Jiang Cheng, master of obliviousness, had correctly judged a person that he himself had misjudged seemed just plain wrong. “He just does that to anyone he thinks might squeal on him to his brother.”

Lan Wangji probably would have, too. Still, he felt that Jiang Cheng should have warned him better.

He glared.

“Second Young Master Lan has no grounds for complaining at his own lack of perception,” Jiang Cheng said, and Lan Wangji noted again the presence of people in their vicinity. “It’s all that navel-gazing you do in the Cloud Recesses, no doubt – should I start to worry about A-Yuan?”

“Lan Yuan,” Lan Wangji said snippily, then added, “Lan Sizhui.”

Jin Rulan, Jiang Cheng mouthed at him, and both of them were forced to briefly avert their faces in sheer amusement. Poor Jin Ling – no one would ever call him by his courtesy name, not if even his two guardians weren’t able to keep a straight face.

(Well, comparatively speaking. Lan Wangji was well aware that his own expression of deep amusement looked, to the uninitiated, exactly like his neutral expression but for a very slight narrowing of the eyes.)

The footsteps passed, and Jiang Cheng relaxed once more. Lan Wangji was pleased to see it, but acknowledged that if they were to keep up the pretense of disliking each other, deplorable political necessity that it was, they would need to do better in the future.

“Today will be a disaster,” Lan Wangji murmured, a warning. “But beneficial in the long run. Do not take what they say to heart.”

He would not have said it if Jiang Cheng was not more fragile than usual. Normally, Jiang Cheng could, after years of practice, let insults flow off his back like water from a duck, unmoving and uncaring – he was a flawed man in many ways, Lan Wangji acknowledged, but he generally only had to make a mistake once to learn from it.

For instance, he would never again allow the poisoned words of others to interfere with those he loved.

Not when he still tormented himself for not having done more for Wei Wuxian, as if there had been more Jiang Cheng could have done without losing everything else he held dear – not even Lan Wangji, who was helplessly and hopelessly in love with Wei Wuxian and couldn’t keep himself from sometimes playing Inquiry in search of him, summoned his ghost into their lives so often as Jiang Cheng did.

“Sometimes I wonder what goes through your head,” Jiang Cheng remarked, glaring at the perceived commentary about his lack of emotional resiliency no matter how accurate. “And then I realize I don’t want to know.”

“Lying is forbidden.”

“I am not a Lan. And, yes, fine, it’s a lie. If I could crack you open and crawl into your head, I probably would, but that doesn’t make you special or anything. I’d do that to most people.”

Lan Wangji believed it – Jiang Cheng was just that insecure.

He didn’t let Jiang Cheng change the subject, though, continuing to stare at him until Jiang Cheng shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, rolling his eyes. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll prepare for a calamity and storm out as quickly as possible. What are they possibly going to say about me now?”

They said he was like his father.

It was usually meant as a compliment, but not always. In this case, it was the latter: the implication that Jiang Cheng would, like his father, eventually forget to care for the child he already had when another, better one came along put an especially ugly expression on his face.

As Nie Huaisang had gleefully predicted, Jin Guangshan was enraged to the point of maddening by the prank they had pulled and framed Mo Xuanyu for. Nor could he be blamed, the prank was positive infantile, and highlighted Mo Xuanyu’s relative youth and immaturity, losing his father and sect face in the process. Everyone had wanted to talk about that, about how extremely obvious it was that Mo Xuanyu’s only use was to humiliate the already legitimized Jin Guangyao, but in deference to their host they turned their conversation onto past examples like Jiang Fengmian – and, of course, the more recent example of the ongoing fight between Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji over Lan Sizhui.

Jiang Cheng had had no choice but to ignore it, no matter how his face purpled in rage at the suggestion that he might neglect either Lan Sizhui or Jin Ling in favor of the other. Still, no one had really questioned it when he left in a huff not long after in response to an extremely unfortunate comment by the ever-feckless Nie Huaisang (of course: Lan Wangji shouldn’t have doubted him) about the ability of young men to handle child-rearing, returning to the Lotus Pier in a fury with a parting shot about how the Lotus Pier, at least, did not follow the Wen sect in encouraging the indoctrination of children – a vicious and unwarrented smear regarding the Lan sect’s lectures that made Lan Qiren almost visibly see red and Lan Xichen frown but which Lan Wangji thought was rather useful to their ultimate goal.

When later it was discovered that Mo Xuanyu had apparently run away – and based on the clues that had been left behind, that he must have pulled off his escape by disguising himself as part of Jiang Cheng’s retinue – Jin Guangshan was so angry that smoke nearly poured out of his ears, to the point that Jin Guangyao hastily came up with some excuse to briefly remove him from the scene.

Nie Huaisang winked at Lan Wangji from behind his fan, looking pleased with himself, and he looked so ridiculous that Lan Wangji had to forcefully remind himself once again of his personal revelation that the second young master of Qinghe Nie was far away from being the useless waste that he presented himself as.

Far more effective a reminder, though, was Jin Guangshan’s announcement later that day that he would indulge Mo Xuanyu’s desire for a little bit of freedom – natural in a boy of that age, he’d chuckled, playing the indulgent father – by requesting that Jiang Cheng keep him for some time at the Lotus Pier to tutor his young cousin Jin Ling in the ways of Lanling Jin.

Just as Nie Huaisang had so enthusiastically and confidently said he would.

“And with Hanguang-jun there to supervise, there will be no question of misconduct,” Chifeng-zun said, nodding in approval at the proposal. “Your son and grandson will benefit twice over! I think our younger generation is stronger for having all gathered together in one place, whether learning at the Cloud Recesses or resisting the oppression of the Wen sect…”

“That requires there to be a younger generation,” someone in the crowd interjected, as they almost always did when someone of their present generation mentioned the next. “Sect Leader Nie, don’t you think it’s time you settled down?”

“Why are you looking to me?” he demanded, looking annoyed. “Zewu-jun is equally unattached, and he ranks first on the list of women’s hearts, doesn’t he?”

“On the list of young masters, of which I no longer count,” Lan Xichen stressed hastily, holding up his hands in a vain attempt to ward off the discussion topic. “At any rate, I’m far too busy to be interested in courting at the moment – anyway, wasn’t Sandu Shengshou trying to set up a match some time back?”

“Didn’t he get blackballed?” Sect Leader Qin, ever Jin Guangshan’s faithful dog, interjected, always on the look-out for a way to denigrate the other Great Sects. “I didn’t even know that was possible –”

“At least he’s demonstrated the ability to care for a child –”

Lan Wangji decided that that was an excellent time to make his escape. This was one situation in which he especially did not want to get held up as a positive comparison.

His uncle went with him.

“Very cleverly done,” Lan Qiren remarked as they strolled into one of the many gardens that peppered Lanling City and Jinlin Tower in particular, and Lan Wangji looked at him sidelong. “Matchmaking and children are the favorite subjects of old men; by the time the noise dies down, Sect Leader Jin’s decision as to his newest son will be considered as settled and unquestionable. It was good of your brother – and Chifeng-zun, of course – to throw themselves on their swords for you.”

Lan Wangji put his hands behind his back, uncomfortable. “I did not ask them to act.”

His uncle said nothing. He didn’t need to – if perhaps Chifeng-zun was somewhat opaque to them both, his sheer straightforwardness ironically enough serving to conceal any subtle thoughts he might have, Lan Xichen was as clear as a calm lake. He had jumped into the conversation at just the right moment, saying words that would only inflame the situation rather than calm it, displaying just enough dismay to be humorous without actually appearing, to those that knew him well, to be surprised at all.

“It was Nie Huaisang’s idea,” Lan Wangji added, and that did get Lan Qiren’s eyebrows to rise up in surprise. Probably wondering, just as Lan Wangji was, when exactly Nie Huaisang had had the opportunity to rope the Venerated Triad into his scheme – as far as Lan Wangji could tell, he hadn’t had any opportunity to speak to them.

Still, however intriguing the speculation was, it wasn’t enough to dissuade his uncle from his target.

“The motivation was yours,” he said, the question implicit.

“Mo Xuanyu requested Jiang Cheng’s assistance,” Lan Wangji explained. “He is – unhappy, in Lanling, and ill-suited to it. Jiang Cheng feared that he might one day bring harm upon himself if he remained.”

His uncle nodded slowly, looking thoughtful. “Having him at the Lotus Pier to teach Jin Ling the ways of Lanling Jin also means that there is no urgent need for Jin Ling to return to Lanling himself. He can remain with Sect Leader Jiang.”

“Yes.”

His uncle huffed out a breath and leaned down to smell one of the flowers. “I will give you some books before you return to the Lotus Pier,” he said. “Mo Xuanyu is already past thirteen; it is not at all the same as dealing with small children. You will need to be prepared.”

Lan Wangji looked at his uncle, a little surprised. He had expected more resistance to this scheming plot, which was not at all in line with Lan sect principles.

“Mo Xuanyu is old enough to make his own decisions,” his uncle said, his eyes still fixed on the flower. “If he cannot happy here, he should go to where he can be.”

Lan Wangji’s heart trembled within his chest. He’d thought – his uncle, who had led the charge at the Burial Mounds, who had been the most disappointed at all of his choices–

“I am sorry that we did not suit you, Wangji.”

Lan Wangji exhaled, hard, feeling a stinging feeling in his eyes and nose.

He had not expected an apology.

It didn’t change everything all at once, of course. He was still angry, still spiteful, still furious, fill of bile and bone-deep rage at how his own family had so thoroughly failed to trust in him that they would take away even his right to choose. His belly was heavy with his resentment at how they disapproved of him, how they were ashamed of him, and it would take more than mere words to liberate him from it.

But still, he had to admit – there was something more complicated about it now.

It had been easier, he thought, to be merely angry.

“It was not you,” he said, a small concession. “If the circumstances were different, I could have lived my whole life at the Cloud Recesses with no dissatisfaction.”

“But they aren’t,” his uncle said, bowing his head in understanding. “And you can’t. I – do not understand, and I do not like it, but that is not necessary. It is still my dearest wish for you to be happy and safe.”

Lan Wangji wasn’t sure that being truly happy was possible in a world that lacked Wei Wuxian – a world his uncle had helped bring about with his own two hands – but he knew that the life he had built with Jiang Cheng in the Lotus Pier, warm and tightly packed and full of worries as it was, was as close as he would come, and a life of solitude and distance and tranquility at the Cloud Recesses would only be worse.

“I have another month left before I return,” he pointed out, seeking to change the subject.

“Not after that conversation,” Lan Qiren said, looking reluctantly amused. “You will be sent to the Lotus Pier as soon as can be managed to make sure that everyone is being properly supervised.”

“Jiang Cheng can supervise.”

“Jiang Wanyin won’t.”

Lan Wangji bowed his head to hide a smile. His uncle wasn’t wrong.

And he had to admit - he wouldn’t miss Jiang Cheng dealing with a teenager for the world.

#mdzs #jiang cheng #lan wangji #lan qiren #nie mingjue #lan xichen #my fic #my fics #delight in misery

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harlequinmoss · 3 years

Text

Aaahhh I haven't written anything in a really long time but I wanted to do something for pride month before it was over cutting it real close I know so here's a little coming out story with José and Panchito. It's set in the 40s because I refuse to write any other versions of them

Panchito and José arrived at their hotel around 10pm. It had been a long day for the both of them, each coming in from a long flight overseas that morning in order to visit their pal, Donald. Donald had picked them up from the airport and the group had a fun day doing touristy things, but after dinner the pair had grown noticeably exhausted. Not having enough space in his own home to comfortably house the both of them, Donald offered to put them up in a hotel room for the night rather than having them crash on the sofa in the living room. It took a bit of coercion, neither wanting to be rude, they were guests after all, but in the end they were too tired not to be easily convinced.

"I'll at least call a taxi over there," Panchito had insisted. "That way you aren't out driving so late."

"It's hardly late at all, but fine. I called ahead and made the reservation so you just have to pick up the key when you get there."

Panchito thumbed through his wallet to pay the taxi driver, thanking them as he handed them the money. He got out of the car, went around to the other side, and opened the door for José who was still fumbling around for his hat that he'd misplaced under the seat.

"There you are!" José started, smiling as he spotted the familiar straw headpiece and put it back in its rightful place upon his noggin. He turned to grab the door handle only to see Panchito waiting for him on the sidewalk instead.

"Oh! Panchie, what a gentleman…" He beamed, taking Panchito's hand for support as he stepped out of the vehicle. "Muito obrigado."

"You're very welcome." Panchito smiled back, shutting the door with a thunk once José was out of the way. "Mind getting the key while I grab our bags?"

"Certainly…" José nodded. "Meet you inside."

José tipped his hat and disappeared through the building's revolving door and into the lobby. Panchito took a moment to watch him go before remembering what it was he was supposed to be doing. He sighed to himself before making his way over to the trunk and popping it open. Holding his breath, he removed both of their suitcases from the taxi and set them on the sidewalk beside the car. He then shut the trunk a bit hard, too distracted to be mindful of his strength, and waved the driver off.

Feelings like this arose whenever he was alone with José. He did his best to suppress them, to act normal like the rest of his friends, but it wasn't easy. A part of him dreaded what was about to come. Sharing a hotel room, sure it was just for one night, and they'd have separate beds, but that didn't make it any easier.

"It'll be fine," Panchito told himself. "I just need to take a moment to compose myself and then I'll go inside. We're both tired. We'll probably end up passing out right away and tomorrow we'll reconvene with Donal and everything will be back to normal."

Panchito took a deep breath. Then another. Then, he grabbed the bags up off the concrete and walked through the revolving door to meet up with José. Perfect timing. José had just gotten out of line for the key and happily waved his friend over as he headed toward the elevator.

"We're in room 313." José proclaimed with a small laugh as Panchito caught up with him. He pressed the button to the elevator, the one on the left immediately opening with a short ding.

"313? Donal did that on purpose no doubt…" Panchito laughed to himself as they stepped inside, refusing to look directly at José.

José nodded, not noticing this avoidance, and he relayed the floor number to the elevator operator who shut the door and brought them up. The two stood in silence in the meantime, their eyes half lidded, both too tired to think of anything else to say. Luckily, the ride wasn't long. The pair thanked the operator on the way out, José tipping them with a spare coin he had in his pocket.

As they headed down the hall, José mumbled the number to himself as if to not forget. 313, 313, spoken softly on repeat in his sweet voice. Panchito held his breath and stared intently down at their luggage. Soon, they arrived, and José quickly turned the key in the lock, extending his other arm as he opened the door.

"After you, Panchie…" José smiled, speaking with such a fondness that Panchito could hardly bear it.

Panchito nodded and started his way in through the door, head down, and José let the arm he had extended wrap around his companion as he followed him inside. Panchito stiffened. Normally, he could shrug off this type of thing, but something was different about tonight. He didn't know why, but every scrap of interaction was much more overwhelming, more amplified. He swallowed and clenched his mouth shut, terrified of what he might say.

"Hm? Are you alright..?" José asked, cocking his head to the side as he watched Panchito move away from his touch in order to set down their luggage. "You've hardly said anything since we left Donal's house…"

"Por supuesto. Sólo estoy cansado…" Panchito sighed. "Just tired…" He repeated again in English.

"Right..." José started, not entirely convinced but not wanting to press the matter. "Let's get ready for bed then."

Again, Panchito only nodded in response. José sighed and made his way next to his friend. Each opened their respective suitcase and retrieved a set of clothes to sleep in. José slightly leaned on Panchito as this motion occurred, just a light brushing of their arms together, but it was enough to send shock waves through Panchito's heart. This type of casual intimacy was something José did with everyone, but Panchito couldn't help thinking that José targeted him more often than anyone else. He was right, though José would never admit it.

"I'll change in the bathroom." Panchito said suddenly, once again moving away from his companion. He quickly disappeared through the bathroom door, leaving José alone and a bit dazed.

José stood silent for a moment, watching the door, a thousand thoughts running through his mind at once.

"Why is Panchie acting so strange tonight? Is he okay? Is it because of me? He's definitely avoiding me, it's not just my imagination, right? If he finally figured out my true feelings it could be out of anger or contempt. Oh God, what am I going to do?"

José noticed his heart racing and scrambled to calm himself down before Panchito returned.

"Okay. It's fine, if he knew, he wouldn't even want to sleep in the same room as me. Just get changed and pretend like everything's normal. We're both tired, it'll all be okay by the morning…"

José sighed. He threw on a plain yellow t-shirt and took off his pants so he just had his boxer shorts on underneath. As he was putting his discarded clothes away in the suitcase, Panchito emerged from the bathroom in a cowboy themed set of pajamas. Both blushed seeing each other and silently made their ways to their respective beds, turning off the bedside lamps that lit the room in the process.

"...good night, José." Panchito said after almost a full minute of silence.

"Good night, Panchito." José responded, refraining from using his nickname in fear it'd make matters worse.

The two lay quietly in the dark, unable to fall asleep despite the day's exhaustion. Both shifted in their beds many times over, transitioning through periods of shut eyes to staring at the ceiling to watching the other while they had their back turned so that there was no risk of being caught. Neither dared speak. Their routine went on for what seemed like the whole night, but probably wasn't more than an hour or two in reality, until…

"José?" Panchito asked in a whisper, trying to field whether or not his companion was awake.

"Sim?" He responded, pushing himself halfway into a sitting position in order to face his friend. "Do you want to tell me what's been bothering you?"

"I...can't. You'll hate me forever." Panchito choked out, covering his face with his hands.

"What?!" José's heart sank. He sat up the rest of the way and flicked on his lamp so that they could see each other. "Panchito, nothing you do or say could ever make me hate you."

Panchito looked over at José through the cracks in his fingers. His face was serious, a tonal shift from the care-free facade he usually put on. Panchito sighed and paused for a moment before sitting up as well.

"I'm not so sure…"

"Por favor me diga o que está errado...please…." José pleaded.

Both sat with lumps in their throat, hoping desperately for something just out of reach, not wanting to break what's already there. Panchito was the first to cry.

"I can't-- every day, every time we hang out together it's all about the girls. 'Oh, look at the pretty señoritas! Let us try and win their affections!' And I have to join in and compete and pretend like that is what I want to do. I do not know how much longer I can take it! I want to be normal, believe me, I wish nothing more, that would make this so much easier but--"

"Panchito..?" José mumbled, tears streaming down both of their faces at this point.

"But I do not care about the señoritas, not hardly, I never have. I have to pretend. For your sake. And Donal's. The two of you are my very best friends and I do not want to lose either of you but...but...es tan difícil fingir….I can't say it. It's not right, it's not even legal, is it? But how am I supposed to go on like this when the person whose affections I want to be competing for is…"

As he spoke, José made his way over to Panchito's bed without him noticing, sitting next to him for a moment before deciding it'd be better to kneel in order for them to be the same height.

"Panchie…" José sighed and wrapped Panchito in a warm hug. "It's okay…"

"No it's not! How can you say that when--"

"Shh…" José turned Panchito’s head to face him and tenderly cupped his cheeks as he wiped away tears from his eyes. He then placed a soft kiss to the top of his forehead.

Panchito's eyes widened, his breath caught in his throat, startling him enough to cause him to stop crying. He looked at José with a dumbfounded expression, José only smiling back at him softly.

"You don't have to pretend anymore. Not with me. How about we trade one secret for another, hm?"

Panchito nodded, shaking, still processing everything that just happened.

"Are...are you sure?"

"Of course, don't be silly. I hate the tears, but I'm very happy to hear you feel the same way."

"You mean...you don't care for the señoritas either?"

José laughed.

"I do. But I also care for the cavalheiros. And I very much care for you…"

"Oh." Panchito smiled, wrapping his arms around José. The smile didn't last long, however. "What will we tell Donal?"

"Hm. Well, I do not think he would hate us. He does not seem like the type, no? But let's not fret any more about this tonight. We can worry all we want in the morning."

"Okay…" Panchito nodded, taking another moment to process things before laying down and taking José along with him. José let out a small giggle.

"Panchie! What's all this for?"

"Well, we are going to bed, are we not?"

José blinked, quickly understanding Panchito's request. He shifted, entangling himself comfortably in Panchito's arms, his head resting on his chest. He took a moment to listen to the steady beat of Panchito's heart before speaking.

"Yes, I suppose we are…"

The pair once again said their good nights, but this time they fell asleep almost instantly. Neither knew what lay ahead for them in the days to come. Would they tell Donald, or would this be a secret just for the two of them? So many uncertainties, but one thing was certain. They had each other. And that was enough.

#josé carioca #panchito pistoles #jose x panchito #the three caballeros #ttc #disney

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everamazingfe · 3 years

Text

A Close Shave

Fic Summary: After being picked up by the Urania and brought back to the Hephaestus station, Communications Officer Doug Eiffel tries to come to terms with his new look. It doesn’t go well. Luckily, Jacobi comes along to save the day.

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Words in this fic: 2082 Pairings: Doug Eiffel/Daniel Jacobi Warnings for this fic: Brief mentions of abuse

Notes: I got into Wolf 359 at the start of this year, and after relistening to it recently I decided to start writing some fics. I was pretty nervous about posting this, but I couldn't keep it in my drafts forever, so here it is! There’s also a link to this fic over on A O 3 as the source of this post! Click it to go read it over there, or you can search up the title or ‘everamazingfe’ on the site.

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There was something about him, Eiffel had decided within the first few seconds of seeing him for the first time. His face was mostly blank unless he had some sly comment to say, some sarcastic remark, and then that stony expression was replaced by something cockier, more smug. Sometimes there was a flash of softness to it, usually when Maxwell was speaking. But even when his face was at its blankest, there was a mischievous gleam in those bright green eyes of his.

Eiffel had never really noticed anyone’s eyes before. He didn’t know Minkowski’s eye color, or Lovelace’s for that matter. Hell, Eiffel didn’t even know if he knew his own eye color at this point, he avoided looking in mirrors at all costs. But for some reason, he’d noticed Jacobi’s. Not only had he noticed it, but he had committed it to memory as well.

For a moment, he was convinced he could picture them clearly as he stared out the window above his comms panel, making eye contact with them in the reflection of the glass. Somehow, he was able to picture his face with perfect clarity too, despite only seeing it a handful of times while he was in sound mind.

“Feel good to be home?” The Jacobi that Eiffel thought he was picturing in his mind so clearly spoke, startling him out of his trance and making him jump because it wasn’t his imagination, it was the real deal. It made sense, he’d never had a very visual imagination anyway, but there was always hope for a change of mind. “Wow, I didn’t think I was all that scary, Officer Eiffel.”

“You’re not,” he grumbled with a huff of indignation, grabbing the edge of his station and pulling himself back to it, hooking his knees beneath it to keep himself there. “I just… Got lost in thought.”

“You? Capable of thought? Now that’s something that wasn’t included in your file.” There it was, that stupid sly grin that Jacobi always had when he thought he was being oh-so-clever. Usually, he was. But that joke had become played out within the first month on the station.

Eiffel responded with mock laughter, trying to ignore the way that comment made an invisible knife twist in his chest. After all he’d done, no one thought he was good at anything. What a surprise. But he didn’t have time to unpack all of that right then. “Get some new material, I’ve heard it all before,” he drawled, hoping he looked as bored as he sounded. “I’m a slacker, I’m an idiot, I’m a motormouth. Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Your shoe’s untied.”

Maybe there was some truth to one of those three things, because like the idiot he was, Eiffel had that brief moment of panic everyone had when someone told them that their shoe was untied, or their fly was down, or there was something on their shirt. And because of that panic, he looked down. It had completely slipped his mind that he hadn’t even worn shoes in the two (Three? Did those hundred days hurtling through space count? He didn’t know.) years he had been on the Hephaestus. “Oh, goddammit!” He groaned as he stared down at his socked feet in dismay, trying to tune out the cackling laughter Jacobi let out behind him that sent him halfway across the room.

“You’re also gullible, apparently!” He let himself continue his path across the room so he could push off the back wall, still in a fit of giggles as he sailed back to the console. “You actually fell for it! I can’t believe it! I’ve never gotten anyone with that before.” Jacobi’s grin was bigger than it had ever been, and he wiped the tears from his eyes before they wreaked havoc on the station’s internal systems. Maxwell was too smart to fall for a simple trick like that, and Kepler… Well, Kepler didn’t like being pranked.

Eiffel grumbled something incoherently, waiting patiently for Jacobi to get over himself before he spoke again. “Was there a real reason you came down here?”

“No, not really. Kepler’s giving Minkowski an orientation for her new role and then he needed to discuss… something with Hilbert, I don’t even wanna know. And Ala- Maxwell’s busy with Hera. So, I was bored.”

“What about Lovelace?”

“Dunno. Didn’t ask. Didn’t care.”

“Right… So you came to interrupt my very important work?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Lucky me.”

“Lucky you.” Jacobi made himself comfortable, lounging in the free-floating bliss that was zero-g as Eiffel pretended to look busy, though his eyes were fixed on the reflection of the man in the glass. The bright light of Wolf 359 backlit him beautifully, and the color in the star seemed to desaturate everything else in the reflection, except for those damn eyes.

Eiffel let out a sigh, bringing a hand up to run it through his hair, his fingers brushing through the empty space where his long curls used to be. He let out a frustrated growl, moving his hand up to his scalp. The little hair that was left was scraggly and damaged as hell. It was coarse and patchy, and it scratched his hand uncomfortably when he ran his hand over it. “Actually. I have an idea of something we can do.” He turned around to look at the real Jacobi, who arched an eyebrow in silent encouragement for him to go on. “Come with me.”

He’d had his head shaved a handful of times, and it was usually under duress. The first time was as a punishment for getting gum stuck in it, even though he hadn’t been the one to put gum there, and it would’ve been much easier to just cut the chunk out rather than shave his whole head. The second time had been when he’d joined the military. This would make number three, but this time it was necessary, despite the fact that his goal had really been to never cut his hair again. All that length had meant a lot to him, it meant that he had control over something in his life, finally, but the cryofreeze had, apparently, had other plans for it.

Additionally, most of the shaving kits, particularly their razors, had been dismantled for Minkowski’s crusade against Blessie. God only knew where all of those had ended up, or if they were still even on the station, but he knew there was one that was still safely tucked away.

“Wow, Eiffel. I thought you would’ve liked to wine and dine your dates before bringing them home. You always struck me as more of a gentleman than that.”

“Shut up.” He rooted around in his locker, letting various pieces of uniform and whatever else had been shoved in there float freely around them as he did so. Most of it was contraband that he should’ve been more careful about getting seen, but he was too focused. Once he found the kit, he let out a soft, ‘a ha!’ And underhand tossed it to Jacobi. “You’re shaving my head.”

For once, Jacobi didn’t have some sort of sarcastic remark to make in response. He was just confused. “Sorry?”

“I can’t… I can’t stand it being like this. I can’t. And it’ll never grow back right with the ends this damaged, and I don’t really feel like cutting myself a thousand times in the process. So you’re doing it for me.” He tried to make his voice sound commanding, authoritative, but instead he just sounded desperate, irritated, upset. His hair meant so much to him, but he could stand to be without it for a little bit. He’d done it before, he could do it again. What he couldn’t stand was the sorry excuse for hair that he’d been left with.

“You don’t think I’d use the razor to kill you? It’d be the perfect opportunity.”

“If you wanted to kill me, you could’ve done it back on the Urania when I was half dead.”

“You hadn’t annoyed me as much back then.”

“I mean, if you really want to, I guess you can, but… I’d really just like my head shaved, please.”

A dramatic sigh filled the silence, and then: “Ugh, fine. But you owe me.”

That was good enough for Eiffel, and he trailed along behind Jacobi to the Hephaestus’ bathroom. Gravity was a little different in there, as in it was actually present in order to make showering and other general acts of hygiene (that Eiffel didn’t really partake in) a little easier. So he was able to sit on the counter and stare their reflections down as Jacobi stood behind him, setting the kit beside him on the counter.

Jacobi wasn’t a friend, not by a longshot. In Minkowski’s book, he was part of ‘the enemy.’ But they’d spent a decent amount of time together after he’d been picked up by the Urania, and even a little bit of time before that over the comms. Someone had to keep in touch with him and keep up-to-date on his coordinates so the ship could get a lock on his location, and Kepler had felt like that work was beneath the highly intellectual minds of himself and Maxwell, so it had fallen to Jacobi. And Eiffel hadn’t minded, because beneath all the smart remarks, the guy was alright to talk to. A little stilted, maybe, but that wasn’t anything he couldn’t work with. It was better on the Urania. Easier, at least, because Jacobi’s body language did a lot of the talking for him. Once again, helping Eiffel was deemed grunt work, so Jacobi had been the one stuck tending to his wounds, helping him get around when he was too weak to even keep his eyes open, and adjust to eating again after not doing it for a hundred days (though with all of the substitutes for rations Hilbert dared to call food, one could argue it had been even longer since he’d really eaten).

Long story short, Eiffel liked Jacobi to some degree. The guy was alright in his book, and he was sure the feeling was mutual, because he could’ve easily said no, or done a hackjob of it, or killed him. But instead, he took his time and made sure that he didn’t miss any spots, his other hand resting gently on Eiffel’s head to keep it steady despite all the fidgeting.

After the first pass, Eiffel moved to get off the counter, to turn around and thank Jacobi, but a firm hand on his shoulder pushed him back down.

“I gotta go again, make sure I didn’t miss a spot. It looked awful before, but it’ll look even worse if there’s just a tiny patch with a few hairs left.”

Eiffel furrowed his eyebrows together, but nodded and got comfortable again. As comfortable as he could, at least. His ass was already numb and the feeling was starting to spread down to his legs, but hopefully the second pass would go quicker.

And it did, kind of. Jacobi didn’t need to clean the hair from the razor as often because there was barely any left, but he still took that same slow and gentle care as he had the first time. When he was done, he wiped off the leftover shaving cream with a nearby towel, smiling genuinely as Eiffel lifted a hand to feel over his scalp. “Well? How does it feel?”

“It feels great,” he answered earnestly, laughing in relief. He didn’t hate the way his reflection looked anymore, and now he could actually believe everyone when they told him to pull it together because it would grow back eventually. Hopefully this made the process easier. His eyes drifted to Jacobi’s in the mirror, mirroring that same smile. “Thank you... I really do owe you.”

“Yeah, you do.” The genuine smile faded to his usual cocky grin, and Eiffel threw the towel at him. It hit him square in the face, but it didn’t wipe away that look. “But… You’re welcome.” He offered him a hand to help him off the counter, steadying him with a chuckle when he nearly lost his balance. “Gravity that hard on you, Doug?”

“No! It’s just… That counter was not very comfortable to sit for that long on. And yeah, I guess gravity’s pretty hard to adjust to too.”

“Well then we’d better get you back to the lazy embrace of zero-g.”

#wolf 359 #w359 #daniel jacobi #doug eiffel #jacoffel #fic #my fic #my writing #everamazingfe #mini episode #oneshot

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sweetestlamb · 3 years

Text

Come Undone

Author’s note: Well, I know I said it was coming this weekend but I decided to break it apart and post this part first. It’s another roller coaster but I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. Thank you to everyone who messages me and supports me and loves this story. I am so thankful for you. Enjoy my babies :) Thanks for the photo @prodmina, (I’ll use the other thing later in the story too) you are a doll and as always thank you @ewolfwitchwisegirl for this beautiful header!

p.s Crazy fun fact I had no idea what Seojun’s mom’s name was so I put random initials thinking I’ll check later and fix it. Only to guess completely right! I am so proud of myself LOL

She stands dumbfounded in his arms, unable to process the words that have left his lips. She couldn’t have heard him right, why on Earth would someone like him who had girls fighting to be his girlfriend want anything to do with her? Did he pity her that much? Was this the premise of a high school drama and he’d taken some sort of bet to befriend her? Somehow all of those options seem more feasible than him having genuine feelings for her.

But it’s her first real confession, she’s always seen others receive this and never experienced it herself. There had been some grandiose ones at school but she secretly tells herself she prefers this, just them two without an audience. it feels more intimate and authentic, as if he couldn’t wait another minute and his feelings for her overwhelmed him. Her heart is beating rapidly despite her deep calming breaths, he’s effectively turned her world upside down with just those small three words.

I like you.

She can’t control the way her heart flutters, but surely it would react that way to anyone? It wasn’t connected to the confession-er, she was merely affected because someone liked her that was human nature. It didn’t matter that it was Han Seojun, they were nothing to each other. Pity was surely clouding his emotions and she wanted no part in being there when he realized that and abandoned her, it was best not to get attached at all she argues with her traitorous heart.

Her phone brings her back to reality, suddenly she remembers where she’s meant to be right now and her father’s enraged face appears in her mind. He’d told her not to embarrass him, which meant she had to go on this date and paint on a happy face and pretend that she wasn’t dying inside. All for a man who treated her no better than scum under his shoes.

Pulling out the phone, Obligation flashes on her phone screen that’s all he was after all she’d already forgotten his name, it was of no importance to her. She doesn’t know if she should answer, still confused about her next step and while she’s ruminating a hand suddenly fills her vision and snatches the object from her hand. Twisting out of his hug she stares in shock before trying to grab the phone back, “Are you insane? Give it back!” But he steps back, putting more space between them as he holds the stolen object just out of her reach tauntingly using his looming height.

“Is this your date? Obligation.” He reads the name from the phone, venom in his voice and she’s taken back by his tone he’s hardly ever serious or cold with her. She’s seeing many different facets to his personality today.

“Han Seojun, give it back!” She demands, stomping her feet before lunging for the item, putting a hand on his shoulder for more leverage. But she miscalculates and her face smashes into his jaw making him cry out in pain and sending her flying forward her body crashing into his painfully, he steadies her with an arm around her waist bringing her dangerously close to him. Their eyes connect as if they are magnetized, just like that day in front of her house.

“Is this your answer, princess? You sure know how to hurt a guy.” She peers at him in bewilderment before searching his face, there’s not even a fraction of a smile on his lip and he refuses to meet her eyes. Gazing off into the distance although he’s speaking to her. He seems…hurt and he’s not doing a good job of hiding it at all, it’s written all over his face and she wonders vaguely what kind of world he must live in to be able to so freely reveal his feelings? She yearns to grab his lips and literally turn his frown upside down, smiles look much better on him.

“You mean it.” She whispers in awe, the ice around her heart defrosting as his palpable pain washes over her. He’d thought she was rejecting him for her “date”. He clearly wasn’t a great listener, she had no feelings for that guy it was just another part of her world that she had no control over. For some reason she wants to explain that to him, make him understand that in another universe maybe things would be different, maybe she would be allowed to want and she would explore this but this isn’t her reality, things are not that simple. Love isn’t an option for her.

“I told you. About my world, I can’t–”

“That’s just an excuse. You have a choice Sujin.” He states his word are cold as ice, he looks livid as he puffs out an exasperated breath of air and frantically runs his fingers through his hair.

Shoving him hard she sneers up at him before shouting in his face, “What choice do I have? I have control over nothing in my life, my first date is being stolen from me. I’ll probably have to kiss him too so that will also be stolen! I can’t control anything I didn’t even choose this outfit. None of this is my choice.” It’s not his fault, and he’s the one person that’s been there for her and that makes her even angrier, why isn’t she allowed to have this? Go on a date with a boy who might care for her, why is life cruel enough that this is being presented but she can’t grab onto it with both hands?

For the first time ever, he doesn’t deflate or back off like he usually does when they get to these moments, he’s usually her safety pin pulling her back from the edge of detonation so she’s not ready for him to scream back at her, “Then choose me! Fuck all of that, fuck your father.” He lifts up her phone which has started to ring again, “Fuck this guy! Just choose me, let me be your first.” They both stand still, staring at each other the jingle of her iPhone not enough to cut the thick coiling tension and then she watches in gaped surprise as he angrily slides her phone open. “Stop fucking calling, she’s not coming. She’s with her boyfriend.” Then he slides the phone close, finally handing it back to her looking at her with those hard glistening eyes. She looks at the phone and then back at him, eyes wide as the moon.

Stupefied and flustered she stutters out, “You’re n-n-ot my boyfriend. What are you doing?”

“Let me take you on a date. Pick me Sujin.”

They stand at an impasse, neither talking following the outburst but their eyes are locked having a conversation all their own. He looks impossibly young standing there asking to be chosen, he was always so shameless with his emotions uncaring about letting them ooze out of his pores. Although he was no longer saying anything, his face was screaming at her, his eyes were kneeling before her on bended knees.

When the phone vibrates again, she's so entranced that she doesn't make any move to check it so when the cab driver calls out her name from his window, she jumps in surprise at the sudden interruption.

"Ms. Kang Sujin?" He eyes them both, glancing back and forth as if he too can feel the tension laying heavy in the air between them.

After a moments pause she finally relays the message to her mouth to speak, answering quietly, "Yes. That's me."

Seojun watches her unwaveringly, never breaking eye contact to look at the driver. He's standing unnaturally straight, all of his usual swagger drained from his body as he watches to see what she'll do.

Turning to the cab, she reaches out a hand to grab the handle, the cool metal smooth in her grasp.

Pulling it open she turns to look at him one last time before making her decision, with an expressionless face she ultimately slides into the passenger seat. The leather squeaking over her naked thighs, primly she places the little white bag in her lap. When she finally focuses back on Seojun, the hurt on his face is almost too much to witness instead of hiding it like she would he lays it all at her feet, lips twisted in a broken snarl and his fingers clenched tightly by his side.

She waits for some kind of retaliation, for the switch to flick and for him to erupt on her for refusing to listen to his plea. Almost salivates at the idea of him showing her that this was all an act, he didn't truly like her once she rejected him he would lash out and whatever this was would be obliterated. No one was that good, she didn't deserve goodness.

"Text me later then. Let me know when you get home."

His voice is devoid of any anger, calm and smooth but tinged with resignation, gracefully accepting defeat and still concerned about her well-being. Surely he was created in a test tube, there's no reasonable explanation for the way he never reacts the way she expects- the way anyone would in his situation. A sad little smile spreads across his lips and it's the most despairing thing she's ever seen, she never wants to see it again not on his face. As he moves to slam the door shut, somehow still a gentleman even in this predicament, spontaneously she grabs his hand.

"Get in."

She can't believe the words that have left her mouth but she's also buzzing, why isn't she allowed to be selfish and take something that she wants? She can't promise him forever still, her life hasn't changed that drastically but she can give him today, give herself a real first date with someone who doesn't make her skin crawl.

He looks rightfully confused, she knows that she's not making any sense. Playing hot and cold. But her heart is telling her that she's allowed this, she has a choice and today she's joining herself. She's never done that before it's terrifying but maybe it'll be easier with him, maybe he can teach her how.

"Fuck that guy. Take me on a date." She whispers astonished repeating his own words , staring up at him for his response and the answering smile that spreads across his handsome face is enough to power a whole city. She almost beams back his happiness is that contagious.

He squeezes her gloved hand, sliding into the cab beside her their legs pressed closely together. She looks away, moving over discretely but he simply follows her boyish grin on his face, no one has ever smiled like that because of her; it's honestly mesmerizing.

Sounding thoroughly amused, the driver confirms her destination and she realizes she hadn't thought that far and she has no idea where they should go. Placing a burning hot hand on her knee, Seojun easily gets her attention.

"Do you trust me princess?"

She stares back at him, blooding pumping from his soulful tone and his skin on her skin. She's making a horrible mistake, she's sure of but she'll have regrets tomorrow. Boldly returning his look she nods mutely, forced to look away when he laughs so beautifully it makes her stomach drop. Today she does.

"No we have a new destination."

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She looks quizzically at said destination.

"A mall?" She scrunches her nose climbing out of the cab, brushing past him as he holds the door open for her. She tries to ignore the flapping in her stomach, his constant chivalry is a welcome surprise.

"Already doubting me princess? This isn't our date, I wouldn't bring you to a mall on our first date." He sounds affronted but in a teasing way and she wasn't prepared to hear him call this a date even though she'd said those same words herself minutes ago.

"Then why are we here?"

He opens the entrance door letting her go first, she's not sure she'll ever get used to this. He hasn't let her open one door since he chased her out of the coffee, using those long limbs every time to beat her to the door.

"You don't need to keep doing this?"

Now it's his turn to look quizzical, "Do what?"

They're walking side by side now, she notices that he's adjusted his steps to match hers. She hardly wears heels and walking in them is not her expertise, she'd only worn them because her father insisted claiming women should wear them on a date. It made them more appealing to men. She ha cringed in disgust at the comment.

"Open every door we encounter. I can open them too."

Suddenly he grabs her hand stopping her in the middle of the mall, she tries to tug her hand away no longer covered by her gloves but he tightens his hold preventing her from pulling away.

"You told me to take you on date. This is me on a date, I want to open all your doors. You picked me so just enjoy it, this is all for you." She stares at his small content smile embarrassed by his undivided focus on her. Her cheeks burning up without her permission she races away before he can see.

"Let's go."

But he's too quick, running ahead of her and walking backwards eyes scanning her face.

"Are you blushing? Was I too charming princess, did you heart flutter?" He teases her reaching out a hand to squeeze her cheeks, she smacks his hand away glaring at him.

"Shut up before I leave."

He winks in response nonplussed by her empty threat walking purposely before stopping in front of a retail store. Looking through the window she can see trendy clothes, definitely Seojun's style.

She gazes over at him unimpressed, "Did you bring me here to watch you shop?" He looks at her equally unimpressed before raising an eyebrow, "Come on princess. You have a lot to learn about me."

Still with this damn nickname and now because she hadn't reprimanded him enough it seemed it was here to stay.

Seojun walks over to a rack immediately, pulling out shirts and putting over her figure. Nodding his head before putting the article back and moving onto another rack.

I didn't even choose the outfit. Her own voice rings in her mind remembering their heated discussion on the sidewalk and suddenly it all makes sense they're here to get an outfit for her, something chosen by her.

"Do you like this?" He holds up another shirt, light blue with a cute picture of a puppy on the front. She sneers at him pushing the offending object away.

"I'm not five, why would I wear that?"

He shrugs at her putting the shirt in front of himself now, "What? I think it's cute. Wouldn't I look cute in it?"

He does, the idiot. His lips pushed out into a perfect pout matching the puppy on the shirt but before she can lie through her teeth and tell him no, another high pitched voice interrupts them.

"Oh! You are so handsome, I'm sure anything would look just delicious on you."

When she turns around she's greeted by a chipper store clerk, she doesn't look much older than them and she only has eyes for Seojun, not once looking in her direction despite being right next to her.

"Is it your first time here? Do you need help? What are you looking for?" The girl rapid fires out questions and she doesn't like the way her chest tightens watching the girl blatantly flirt with him. Clutching her fists she stalks off to a random rack not wanting to look bothered by the invasion, he's allowed to talk to whoever he wants. He's not hers nor she his.

She idly lifts a white T-shirt, it's plain besides a small upside triangle design on the pocket. She knows the brand, they're part of a nonprofit company that gives all their proceeds to children homes. She searches for her size resisting the urge to see what Seojun's doing. He startles her when he peeks over her shoulder his chin almost landing on her collar.

"You like that?" He croons into her ears appearing out of nowhere.

She twists around hoping to put some space between them only to lose her breath at the sight of him, he's removed his bomber jacket standing in a black T-shirt but that's not what catches her attention, it's the dark winding dragon weaving intricately down his bicep. The swirls of black and dark blues of the creature's body are captivating as gray smoke curls out of the dragon's mouth. "It's new." He flexes the arm, bringing it closer to her until it's close enough for her to touch. So she does. Trailing a finger from the dragon's head almost on his wrist and meandering up his arm, stopping at the edge of his shirt sleeve where the tattoo disappears. Realizing what exactly she's doing she snatches her hand away, putting the wayward appendage behind her back.

His eyes are dark when she glances up but neither of them fill the silence, she shuffles going back to the rack and absently pulling out a pair of black jeans.

"I've always liked dragons. They're larger than life and nobody messes with them."

It sounds like he's describing himself, or the persona she's seen at school. The school heart-throb with girls fawning over him and boys wanting to be him, his motorcycle, piercings and now tattoos only adding to his allure. On paper he was the quintessential bad boy but she knew now that wasn't entirely accurate. She'd seen how protective he was of his sister and how doting he was of family, he loved his family and it was clear that the feeling was mutual. And then there was the way he treated her, he was something more than what everyone saw.

Lamely she only replies, "I didn't know you had tattoos."

Thrusting his other hand into her face he shows his wrist, small letters are branded there. Initials.

GW. MH

"GW....Go-woon."

He nods agreeing, "Yeah these were my first tattoos, my mom and sister’s initials. After my father passed away I had to step up, I wanted a reminder that I had people worth living for."

She freezes at his admission, unprepared for the personal and revealing turn this conversation has taken. His face is blank but those eyes, they never lie they are brimming with emotions. She has to fight the urge to hug him, instead patting him on the shoulder.

"Your family loves you. They're lucky to have you."

They aren't the only ones but that's too much for today. She has already reached her mistake quota.

He leans into her touch, resting his head on her shoulder for only a moment before straightening up and smiling.

"Didn't know you were capable of giving compliments princess, I feel special."

She lets him break the tension knowing that he probably didn't intend to open up that much, his cheeks are dusted in red confirming her inkling.

"Don't get used to it. You hardly do anything worth complimenting."

They slip back into their usual banter, as she searches for a dressing room thankfully there's no line and she goes in. After changing she looks at herself in the full sized mirror, she tucks the edge of the shirt into her pants. It's simple but it's more her, the real her. Her father insists that they wear the most expensive clothes and she owns many different brands but most days she'd rather just dress like this and not feel like she's on an imaginary runway. Pulling the door open, she almost collides with Seojun not prepared from him to be waiting right outside her door.

He changed too, and she blinks at him.

"We're not wearing matching outfits. Go change." She states blankly.

He chuckles softly, straightening the already perfect shirt on his body. He added a silver chain and black boots to his outfit and she groans internally because she'd also planned on pairing her outfit with black boots.

"It just happened. I guess our style is compatible." He winks at her going to model in front of the mirror.

"Why are you even here? Shouldn't you be in the men's dressing room?" She hisses at him as he preens in the glass.

She gets her answer in the form of a familiar high pitched tone.

"Oh it looks great on you! You have to get it, it really shows off your arms." Then she watches in dismay as the other girl actually reaches out to touch his arm, Seojun smoothly moves out of her reach but the girl is adamant and places a hand on his back instead standing next to him by the mirror.

Her eyes squint in annoyance, he might not be hers but the outfits should have made it obvious that they were something to each other but the girl was choosing to turn a blind eye. She stops holding back. This is all leaving a bad taste in her mouth. Interjecting easily, she moves the proprietary hand on Seojun's back with a flick of her wrist.

"Do you accost all your customers like this?" She deadpans at the other girl, watching her eyes widen before her face morphs into a tense smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

"I didn't notice you there. Is she your sister?" The store clerk defers back to Seojun as if dismissing her completely and in the corner of her eyes she sees the hard glint of his jawline, he doesn't look pleased. That gives her the courage for her next action.

"Do you usually buy matching outfits with your siblings? We're on a date. We don't need your help as you can see, we already have what we need." She motions between them and their matching outfits, watching the other girl who looks ready to scream before turning to Seojun with beguiling eyes, as if begging him to deny her words.

He wraps an arm around her shoulder, pressing their sides tightly together. The other girl looks at them in disbelief before he answers in his deep voice, "You heard my girl. I'm off limits."

She tells her heart to calm down, this is all a show after all. It was about the principle of the matter, she didn't appreciate this complete stranger ruining her first date. It wasn't about Seojun in particular. He wasn't hers, she knew that. They both watch as she stomps off, angry blush on her face and retort under her breath. Sujin's tempted to follow her and hear what she's saying under her breath, but she collects herself. Turning to Seojun she complains, "This is how you act on a date? Flirting with other girls?"

He gasps at the accusation pressing a hand against his heart, "I never flirted. I told her I wasn't interested when you left the first time. I didn't think you'd be the jealous type though. "

She opens her mouth to deny that claim despite all the evidence proving otherwise but he beats her to it.

"I like it." He ruffles her hair before walking off. She stands there in gaped mouth surprise, how dare he? After picking her jaw up off the ground, they finally join the line, clothes folded in their arms. Deciding to change back into them after ringing up the order.

They get ringed up by another store clerk, when she tries to pull out her credit card Seojun looks at her like she's personally offended him.

"I'm paying. Don't bother arguing, this is me on a date."

"You two are so cute! I love your matching outfits." The cashier coos at them missing the cold glare from her co-worker in the distance.

As they leave the store she waves snidely at the other girl, even allowing Seojun to rest his arm on her shoulder to put on a even more convincing show.

She knows she's being petty but the other girl started it, she's just finishing it. Maybe next time she wouldn't flirt with boys who were with other girls, she was teaching her a life long lesson.

"You're something else princess."

As soon as they get outside, the store clerk no longer in sight she pushes his hand away. They need to redraw the line in the sand he's getting too comfortable touching her and calling her that nickname. And she might be getting too comfortable hearing it.

"That's enough. Stop calling me that." She expects him to be annoyed or hurt by her switch in attitude but instead he's nodding his head fondly with his hands held high, "I make no promises about that P. But I think it's time to get this date started."

She groans staring at this back, she'd completely forgotten to make him change and now everyone was staring at them in their matching outfits. That stupid flirtatious clerk had derailed her thinking.

"Hey! Seojun, let's go to another store. You need to change!" she yells chasing after him. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

He groans as the sensor sounds out, loud noise blaring in his ears signaling that she's hit him again, he only catches a glimpse of her before she's barrel rolling behind a pillar and out of sight.

She'd totally played him, adamant that she'd never done laser tag before. He should have known when she came after changing looking far too comfortable with the gigantic imitation gun in her hand, her hair scooped into a high ponytail. It was admittedly distracting, bringing attention to the long regal line of her neck. He noticed how the instructor paused mid sentence upon seeing her, his eyes lingering a little too long for his liking. Easily he moved between them, dwarfing her with his larger frame staring the guy down until he snapped back looking away while rubbing his neck.

She hadn't noticed the interaction too busy aiming her weapon and asking questions, he had second guessed bringing her here wondering if this was too childish. It was there first date after all and he wanted there to be others, was this thoughtful enough? But watching her roll and dive for cover he knew that he'd made the right choice, even if she was currently destroying his ego.

He had immediately fell for her tricks, running to her aid when she tripped and fell whimpering in pain on the ground. His heart had stopped as he raced over to her, her name on his tongue but before he could utter the word she rolled over, smirk on her face as she aimed perfectly in the middle of his chest, gaining the most point value. She stuck her tongue out before hopping up and disappearing into the darkness. He had stood there shocked clutching at his chest.

"Do you really have time to day dream? I don't know if you've noticed but you're losing. Badly."

She calls from somewhere and he shakes his head at her mocking comment, the trash talking has been steadily increasing with each shot she landed. He should have expected this, for her to be competitive. He's seen it at school sometimes that grimace on her face when she saw that she was second again, glaring at Suho before shoving the ranking away.

He wishes he could say that he's been taking it easy on her but he hasn't, he's been trying his damn hardest to no avail, every time he spots her she dodges him easily, before reappearing behind her and making his sensors go off. He's not the most competitive person but losing this badly is simply embarrassing, a small part of him wants to impress her.

Okay, a large part. Shoot him.

He groans when just that happens, she shoots him and that's it. Game over.

Winner flashes across the front of her camo vest. But when a radiant smile spreads across her flushed face he wonders who is truly the winner.

Cocking an eyebrow he whistles, "You sure you've never done this before?"

She tries to hide a smile but fails epically before admitting the truth. "I might have done this before, once or twice."

"You're a game shark. Taking advantage of poor innocent souls. Is this anyway to treat your date?" He feigns hurt pouting dramatically, bottom lip wobbling. She rolls her eyes at him, ponytail swishing as she skips away before calling over a shoulder, "Even if I told you, you would have still lost. I'm just better than you. Did you even hit me once?" She taunts, looking far too attractive with that snotty look on her face. He must be going crazy.

"You're such a brat. " He concedes enjoying this version of Sujin too much to take any real offense to her insults.

"Rematch?" She purses her lips before aiming right at his head, with one eye closed.

"You're on." She accepts his challenge before running over the counter to purchase more time, he trails after her knowing that he's lost much more than this laser tag game. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

She kicks his ass a second time, he does manage to land one shot on her but it only makes her even more competitive and it's a flurry after that, his censor ringing off every few seconds. It's a short rematch, her notices how other guys seem mesmerized by the beautiful girl with the near precise aim. She starts attracting quite the audience and he decides they've been here long enough. This isn't the end of their date after all, he doesn't want to waste this time.

"Alright, you win ninja remind me never to do this with you ever again."

She stands triumphantly before wondering off to change.

The ponytail is down when she comes back out, thick dark curtain over her shoulder. His fingers itch with desire but he controls the urge, he's seen what she's capable of. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ She shakes her head as he pulls out her chair but he sends her a charming smile, he wasn't joking when he told her this was how he acted on dates. Maybe it's because he only has his mother and sister but he has always respected woman immensely, doing these little acts makes him feel like he's cherishing them. His mother has never opened a door in his presence so this feels natural to him.

They're in a quaint diner with dim lighting and cushy oversized chairs, she looks around curiously taking in the minimalist artwork and splashes of color on the wall.

"Do you bring all your dates here?" She asks all nonchalance as she thumbs through the menu, surprising him when she immediately goes to the dessert section eying the different cakes. He sits in disbelief that she has a sweet tooth, she's just full of surprises today.

"Sujin." He puts iron into his voice grabbing her attention, when their eyes are connected he speaks again, "I think you know me better than that. Don't make this cheap."

It's obvious what she's been trying to do since they left the laser tag center, put as much distance between them as possible. Every once in a while her phone vibrates and he can see her tense up before declining the call. The reality of what she's done has set in and now she's putting back up her fortress. Brushing off his compliments and implying that everything he's been doing is all part of some first date playbook, he's trying not to be offended but it's hard to wrangle in his emotions.

It always is with her.

They stare at each other until a server comes to take their order. She orders a chocolate mousse cake that sounds like something his sister would love- cloyingly sweet and diabetes inducing- and he orders another slice to bring home to her, maybe he can use that to bribe her and hear more about how Sujin saved her. For himself he gets an egg sandwich with avocado and bacon, starving now after his long day. He'd gone to work straight from school and fatigue is catching up with him.

"I'll be right back." He announced abruptly, the chair screeching as he excuses himself from the table.

He splashes cold water on his face, waking himself up and clearing his mind. What will they do after this? It's clear that she's dreading what comes next. Nothing has changed, she still has to go home and he knows they'll be repercussions to today. He can't let her face that alone but getting her to agree to him being there is going to be near impossible. The trust between them is still thin, like the first layer of ice that covers a frozen lake and he's terrified to rupture it.

What is he supposed to do?

Trepidation grips his mind as he makes his way back to their table and as he draws closer, he notices that she's completely distracted, arms balanced on the armrests as she stares out the glass, lost in thought and a million miles away. She looks beautiful, if he was a poet he would write sonnets about it. He has no idea how this day is going to end, feels dread swirling in his stomach as well and he pulls out his phone angling it as he stands in front of her. Wanting to capture this moment, tattoo this image in his mind.

Click!

The loud notification of his camera breaks her reprieve and anxiously he starts to staff the traitorous device in his pocket but not before she spots him.

"Did you just take a picture of me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." He answers innocently, sitting down and taking a huge bite of the sandwich that was delivered while he was away. Her chocolate cake is still perfect, thick and sweet the aroma wafting across the table. She was waiting for him.

Grabbing her fork, he stabs a huge piece of the decadent treat lifting it to her mouth.

"What are you doing?" She retreats attempting to steal her fork back but he weaves out of reach, laughing at her grumpy face.

"Open up princess." He tries to feed her again but she turns her head away, he has to catch himself before he smashes it on her cheek. He gets the feeling that wouldn't have ended well if he didn't have fast reflexes.

"Seojun."

"Princess."

"Don't call me that."

"Open up."

"No!"

She's fully glaring at him now, arms folded across her chest and he stares back impishly before formulating a plan.

"Fine. Suit yourself."

She looks surprised at his quick acceptance of defeat before he starts to bring the cake to his own mouth, exaggeratedly opening his mouth wide to consume the delicacy and instantly she lunges across the table looking ferocious, her mouth open wide in anger and finding an opening he twists the fork and pops the cake into her mouth.

Her face is thunderous, anger filling every line before the flavor explodes on her tongue and she freezes mid lunge looking like a chipmunk with her full cheeks and wide eyes. She slowly chews savoring the bite before finally swallowing. He waits for her reaction with bated breath.

"How was it?" He laughs at her dark stare, passing the fork back over the table. Almost too eagerly she grabs the utensil, shoveling more of the sweet treat into her mouth. Silently answering his inquiry, in minutes her plate is empty only a smear of icing remaining.

He chews his own sandwich deliberately.

When his phone starts to vibrate he doesn't detect it at first, too lost in the puzzle that is Kang Sujin; laser tag extraordinaire with a sweet tooth the size of Seoul. A gentle smile washes over his face when he sees the caller ID and he makes a rash decision that may or may not get him in more trouble. Declining the call, he goes into the contact and chooses FaceTime instead waiting patiently until a face pops up.

"Seojun, where are you? Your sister said she saw you at work earlier and you were on your way home. Did something happen?" His mother’s concerned voice rings out from the speakers.

Glancing subtly over at Sujin he sees her freeze before realization lights up her eyes and he knows she's going to bolt. Not giving her a chance to flee, he reaches around the table grabbing her chair and tugging her over until they're side by side. Both of their faces sit in the small square on his phone and his mother gasps at the sudden addition to your conversation.

"Oh! Who's this? Are you out with friends?"

"Mom, this is Kang Sujin. The girl I like." He states proudly, smiling brightly at the screen.

His mom's eyes become comically wide, glancing back and forth between the two of them before she waves back excitedly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you my dear. I hope my son is treating you well." His mother has that look on her face that she always gets before she scolds him, clearly seeing the other girl’s discomfort. Sujin is unmoving next to him, a pregnant moment passes before she blinks twice and realizes that she's being spoken to.

"He is. It's nice to meet you too." Her voice is tinier than he's ever heard it.

Worlds different from the person who looked ready to stab him over chocolate cake.

His mother's eye immediately soften at her quiet voice.

"Well I won't keep you. Make sure she gets home safely and don't come back too late. It's supposed to rain later." She warns them both waving softly before ending the call and the screen goes dark.

"What are you doing?"

She's furious. He can hear in the cadence of her voice, she's vibrating with it.

"Why would you do that?”

"Why are you so angry?" He rises to her bait, knowing this was the inevitable end to their near perfect date.

"You had no right to do that. I don't need to be anymore involved with your life."

A slap across his face. That stings and he can't control his reaction, recoiling like he's been hit.

"What was supposed to happen after today? Why did you agree to this? Was this supposed to get you out of my system?" He barks at her. He’s so annoyed this is happening in the middle of a diner, like those couples you always see and judge praying that they'll take this somewhere else.

"It was supposed to get you out of my system!" She screams back.

There's the truth, the ugly truth. It's not different from anything she's ever said to him but hearing that now after confessing to her feels like salt being poured into his wounds. Or acid behind injected into his veins.

"What about my feelings? I like you."

Harshly she stands snatching her purse and throwing down a few bills on the table, with a tone filled with venom she looks him dead in the eyes, unwavering. "Don't." ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ It wasn't supposed to end like this, his heartbroken face is frozen in her mind.

Don't.

She was selfish, a horrible selfish bitch and she used his feelings for her. That's what he would think and that was best, he needed to face the reality that one stolen moment didn't make her life brand new, she was still the broken mess he'd stumbled upon in the rain. No matter how vehemently he tried there was no mending her she was beyond repair.

But it had felt nice. Being with him, feeling like a normal teenager on a date. For a minute she'd forgotten her reality, when he called his mother it was the wake up call she needed. She wasn't the girl you brought home to your mother, at least not for him. The woman looked so much like him and she could feel their affection for each other through the phones, her own mother has never looked at her with such devotion. Jealousy crawls at her insides, she'd forgotten she was a monster until she saw them. She couldn't drag another person into her storm.

He doesn't call. She thought he would, expected him to chase after her and demand more. She stares through the window of the bus watching the raindrops slide down the glass, his mother had been right. Taking out her phone she types a message.

I'm sorry.

Staring at it, there's so much she's sorry for but mostly crashing into his life. If only he'd ignored her like everyone else this could have all been avoided, he would have been spared. She leans back in her seat with a deep sigh, message unsent.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

She's drenched standing outside her house, pacing back and forth pulling at the skin between her fingers. Her father has to know by now, but he hasn't contacted her once. It feels like the calm before the storm despite the torrential pour of rain around her.

The click of the front door opening makes a shiver race down her spine. Her father stands ominously in the doorway, face set in stone.

"Where have you been!" He screams, booming voice cutting through the fall of rain.

She instinctively takes a step back but he grabs her by her soaking shirt collar and slams her into the brick wall, she cries out as pain surges through her body. "You little bitch, I told you not to embarrass me." He hisses into her face, spit landing on her chin.

"Honey, stop! You're outside somebody will see!" She hears her mother crying from the doorway and she almost laughs at the reasoning, it's okay to beat her to pulp as long as it's inside where no one will see. It was all about upholding appearances.

"You shut your mouth! This wouldn't have happened if you raised her better!" He turns to sneer at her mother and she capitalizes on his momentary distraction, twisting out of his hold and running down the sidewalk. For a moment she thinks she's free but then a sharp pain shoots through her head and she's painfully yanked backwards by her hair. She shouts at the burst of intense pain, hot tears streaming down her face.

He drags her by her hair before shoving her into the wall, her skull bounces off the hard surface and white starburst explode behind her eyelids.

Squinting through her tears and the water soaking her face she sees her father with his fist drawn back. She waits for the blow, clenching her eyes shut. If she's lucky this will be it, it'll all be over.

But the moment drags on and the punch never lands and then she suddenly hears a voice she never expected.

"Get your fucking hands off her!"

She's barely able to lift her hand and watch as her father is shoved powerfully, falling to his knees from the impact. Rubbing at her tender scalp she peers up at her savior only to see the furious face of Seojun, his hair is matted to his scalp and he looks murderous.

"You came." That's all she can get out before her world goes pitch dark, he was here. He was truly here even after everything she said. Why? Why was he always there?

Her last cognitive image is him running frantically towards her with his arms outreached, his lips are moving and she wishes she knew what he was saying but there's no sound and then there's nothing.

Darkness.

#true beauty #true beauty kdrama #junjin #han seojun #kang sujin #the couple that should have been #early posting #I come bearing gifts

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cmtuckerly · 3 years

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25 Things I learned by 25

1. A dream isn’t the same as a passion. Publishing a book is a dream, but writing is a passion. You can’t take away passion.

2. Don’t expect to become an adult during undergrad. You’ll definitely grow, but you’re still figuring things out. You’ll make mistakes. Undergrad is when you can still have fun, do whatever you want, and not be answerable to anyone (rejoice in not yet having a supervisor or boss to report to). You can take whatever electives you want. You can choose to study for that midterm for as much or as little you want. It’s one of your last times to be chaotic (whatever chaotic means to you) before going into the workforce or starting grad school, where you have responsibilities have and to answer to a supervisor.

3. You don’t need to impress anyone with your life, especially not your friends or relatives. It’s your life and you’re the one who’s going to have to deal with the choices your make, not them. Their judgements and approval aren’t going to be what sustains you. It only matters whether you’re happy with what you do.

4. Age differences matter less when you get older. When you were 18, it felt weird being in the same class as a 19 year old. But when you’re 25, you’ll be working on projects with people who are 22, 33, and 50, and everyone’s opinion has comparable weight. You gain a lot of wisdom and maturity when you work with people outside of your age cohort. Also, stop putting so much stock into your 20s. After having a year taken away from my 20s due to the plague, I’m trying to tell myself that being young is more of a state of mind than an age range. Likewise, I find the label “old soul” pretentious as heck.

5. Living harmoniously with your housemates means that you should communicate clearly what your expectations are for the bathroom and kitchen. Tell your housemates to clean their own hair from the drain after they shower instead of letting everyone’s hair clog it up after a month. Tell your housemates to clean their food from the kitchen drain after they do their own dishes.

6. No matter who shames you, don’t feel bad about staying up til 4am and waking up at 2pm. In a way, sometimes it’s a privilege to have a school/work life that allows you to have a dysfunctional sleep schedule. Embrace it while you can.

7. Don’t feel regret for the mistakes you made or the things you didn’t do. You only wish you made a different decision now because you have hindsight. At the time you made that decision, you didn’t know any better and thought that was the best choice. Those series of decisions and mistakes you made helped form the person you are and the wisdom you have now. So why regret that things that helped make you you?

8. It’s okay to lie to your family and friends in order to make it easier to get some space to breathe. You don’t owe anyone your time or explanations.

9. ”Your vibe attracts your tribe”. Something I heard from a youtuber. There will always be at least one person out there who likes what you do, no matter how niche it is. You’ll always find an audience for your voice. Keep doing you.

10, Some deadlines are flexible and some rules are bendable. Don’t always do things by the book. Things will work out. They’ll be fine. Rejection also doesn’t mean you’re not good enough or not capable. Rejections means you weren’t given that opportunity, but it doesn’t mean you are incapable to learning that knowledge. It’s also why going to college and having a post-secondary education isn’t necessary for success. Likewise, don’t take failure so seriously. Learn from it, yes, but it’s not going to matter in the grand scheme of things years from now.

11. Don’t mistake being nice for flirting. You’ll make yourself too vulnerable that way.

12. Invest mental energy into something meaningful. Staring at someone’s instagram profile or a celebrity’s photos on google images isn’t going to change anything. Similarly, that trip to Paris you took, the fairy lights in your room, or the hipster cafe you spend your time in doesn’t make you more artsy or cultured. The great plague of 2020 taught me to re-evaluate and redefine what’s left of my personality when I’m stuck at home for a year.

13. My favourite form of therapy: wandering solo. Whether it be walking through a city, a summer music festival, hiking through a forest, driving, or going to a museum or art gallery on my own. There’s a lot of freedom when you’re alone and anonymous.

14. Go eat alone in that restaurant (when safe and appropriate). No one is noticing. And if they do, take pride in the fact that you’re more open-minded and confident than they are.

15. No one remembers the mistake or embarrassing thing you did in your meeting or presentation. People have better things to remember and think about in their lives.

16. Fate is just meaning that we choose to give to certain coincidences. It’s not real.

17. Meet-cutes don’t end in happily ever after like they do in the movies. But they do make for interesting stories.

18. Don’t expect to meet the love of your life at a cafe, bookstore, social dance night, or whatever special event. People are mostly there to work, find a book, practice their dance skills, and socialize with their friends. They’re not paying much attention to people around them.

19. Maturity is being able to have a celebrity crush and knowing that it’ll never work out in real life and being okay with that. It’s all about learning how to have a healthy balance of emotional attachment and emotional distance.

20. I think one martini gets me just as tipsy as 3 glasses of wine. I need to do more tests to find out though.

21. A good conversationalist and someone who has the same interests as you doesn’t mean they’ll be a good partner. There are lots of people who fit that criteria. That’s why we have friends.

22. Fake it ‘til you make it. Feeling unconfident? Pretend that you are! Shy? Pretend to be the charismatic person you always wanted to be. No one will be the wiser. All the world’s a stage. Everyone’s trying to act out the best versions of themselves. As a shy introvert, I’m always worried about stuttering and betraying to others that I’m not as knowledgeable or confident than I actually I am. But I find that it somewhat helps to think less about what people think of me and to think more about the effect that I want to have on others. By projecting outwards, I become a little less self-conscious and ruminate inwards less.

23. Spending a lot of time with someone doesn’t mean you’ll be friends with them. After pulling all-nighters for group projects and seeing my group members more than my own friends and family for 4 months at a time and then never speaking to the group again despite how much we’ve bonded during the group project, I finally understand why actors don’t always become close friends with their co-stars.

24. Read. Learn how to tell stories, whether visually, orally, or textually. You’ll learn how to think more clearly. Unplugging from your phone and computer for 2-3 hours to do this really helps.

25. Be creative, curious, open, and spontaneous. Make the most of a disappointing situation. Be positive. Everything is an opportunity, from being stuck in traffic to being stuck in a grocery line. Everything can lead to a story that can be told later. Drive aimlessly for an hour every weekend and notice how the landscape changes and how neighbourhoods shift. Be open to taking up new hobbies. Be open to reconnecting with an old friend over coffee, even if the homebody inside you wants to cancel everything.

#life lessons #20 somethings #25 years old #college student #positivity #inspiration #philosophy #introvert #infj #mbti #personality #college #grad student #uni life #college life #university

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passionatefanfictionbka · 3 years

Text

Chrianna Short: Selling Dreams

A/N: An old short that was sitting in my drafts. Figured I finish it and post it. Enjoy!

Rihanna looked around her house and huffed before she just started grabbing photos and items that were spread out and mixed in with her decor. She had spent enough time playing this role and she wanted her life back, as much back of it that she could get. She grabbed a huge duffel bag and started throwing things into it. Just as she went to clear off the table behind her couch, she bumped into Melissa.

“Damn Girl, where you rushing off too?” Mel asked as she gingerly rubbed her shoulder.

“Nowhere. I didn’t see you there. When’d you get here?”

“Just a few minutes ago. You obviously didn’t hear me come in either.”

“Yea, I was cleaning up and wasn’t paying attention.”

“Cleaning up what?” Mel looked around the room, “where’s all the pictures? Don’t you think he’s gonna be a little suspicious?”

“I don’t care what he is especially since he’s not my problem.”

“How is your man not your problem?”

“He’s not my man. Never was. Don’t know how many times I have to say that.”

“Well according to media and your PR, he was your man so outside of this house he was your man. What happened?”

“Nothing. I’m finished.”

“Finished what?”

“I’m finished lying. I’m finished pretending. I’m tired, Mel.”

“Does he know that?”

“I don’t give a fuck what he does or doesn’t know.”

“Whoa there, what is going on?”

“I just told you. I’m finished.”

“Robs, that’s not it. Something happened.”

“Nothing happened, honest. I’m really just over all of this. The trips and shit, it gets really boring after a while, especially if it's not with who you want to be with.”

“Chris know you done?”

“This has nothing to do with him either.”

“That’s not what I asked you. Does Chris know you are done?”

“He knows I was thinking about it.”

“Before me?”

“I didn’t want the judgment, Mel.”

“When have I ever judged you?”

“Not out loud but I could feel the way you’ve been looking at me since this started.”

“That wasn’t judgment, that was disappointment. I told you from the beginning that this wasn’t a good idea. You’ve been letting PR run your life for the last few years and just when I thought you were settled into your own, you let them pull you right back in.”

“Mel, I made the decision to go along with it.”

“For what purpose other than media bullshit?”

“It wasn’t media bullshit to me.”

“And what was it to Chris then?”

“I don’t want to talk about him.”

“You might want to.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I’m right behind you.”

Rihanna jerked around at the sound of Chris’s voice. She smiled before she could catch herself and Chris chuckled, “you look more shocked than I thought you would be. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Why? How are you here?”

“I drove here, what do you mean?”

“How’d you even know I was in town? I didn’t call you.”

“You normally don't and somehow I still have perfect timing,” Chris walked towards her and plopped down in an armchair, “besides I could always sense when something was wrong and considering this room, I was right.”

“Nothing is wrong.”

“You don’t pull a Bernadine in Waiting to Exhale for nothing. What’s going on?”

“I really don’t have to answer you.”

“You don't but you will. Eventually.”

Melissa laughed causing Rihanna to remember she was in the room, “there is nothing funny about this.”

“Oh there’s a lot funny but I’m gonna go to my room and laugh. It’s tense in here.”

Melissa patted Chris’s shoulder as she walked past him to leave the living room. Rihanna turned her attention back to him, “why are you here, Chris?’

“I told you that I sensed something was wrong and...I miss you.”

“I just saw you in New York.”

“That was well over two months ago. Still not used to these long gaps.”

“We’ve dealt with longer.”

“That’s when we really didn’t have any options.”

“Who says now that we do have options?”

“We did especially once we started this up again.”

“This what?”

“What? Does your nigga have the room wired for sound or you just acting dense on purpose?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.”

“You don’t get to barge in my house in the middle of my recharging session, demanding answers to shit that isn’t your business.”

“All of this is my business.”

“Really? How?”

“Because you’re my business and have been over the last decade. I told you this from Matt to Drake to this Arab nigga, I don’t give a fuck about no PR stunts and relationships, we’ve been in this from the beginning and it hasn’t changed. When I feel like something is wrong, I’m gonna come whether you ask me to or not, guns blazing if I have to. We’ve been good for this long so clearly something has changed if you giving me attitude like this and I haven’t seen you in so long.”

Rihanna sighed and ran her fingers through her hair before settling her hands on her waist. Chris was right; he didn’t do anything he wouldn’t normally do when she came in town and she was overreacting.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m just- I don’t know.”

“What is it? Is the pressure getting to you? Are you changing your mind? We’ve been communicating so well up until now, just let me know what’s up.”

“It's not you. I just don’t have my head on too straight.”

“Then let me help you, all you gotta do is talk to me, you know that.”

“I know Babe, it’s just- I’m still trying to figure it out. I feel out of control.”

“So stop trying to figure it out and just relax. You’re not gonna gain more control by acting out of control. Forcing things has never been helpful for you.”

“You’re right.”

“So sit down. Stop trying so hard to make things happen and just let them happen.”

Rihanna frowned and Chris chuckled, “what’s the matter, Baby Girl?”

“When the hell you’d get so wise?”

“I’ve had a lot of practice. Now can I get a proper greeting or you still taking your anger out on me?”

Rihanna rolled her eyes and she moved to sit on Chris’s lap. He kissed her and she laid her head on his shoulder, “I wasn’t taking my anger out on you. I was just frustrated.”

“Same difference.”

Chris made circles on her exposed thigh with his fingertip, “I missed you. Why didn’t you call me when you got in town?”

“Because I’m not staying long. I’m actually out of here tomorrow.”

“Even more reason why you should’ve called me.”

“I also didn’t come here by myself.”

“Ah, now that makes sense. Where’s your Arab money?”

“Fuck you.”

Chris laughed, “I’m serious. Where he at?”

“He left already.”

“Argument?”

“Gotta actually talk to have an argument. I’m just over everything and told him to go. Services no longer needed.”

“Should’ve never enlisted them in the first place.”

“I am not having this discussion with you again, Chris.”

“We’re not, I’m just saying.”

“No more saying. You’ve expressed your dislike with the arrangement enough over the last year or so. You didn’t like him, I get it.”

“So you my girl again or nah?”

“Always been yours.”

“But am I still sharing you or no?”

“No.”

“That’s all I need to hear.”

“But we’re not together, Chris.”

“By whose definition?”

“Anybody’s definition. I need time, Chris.”

“I can give you time. I’ve always given you that.”

“I mean real time. Not you sitting in the corner, staring at your watch and willing me to hurry up time.”

“I do not- nevermind.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Well what do you expect? We were on a good path, babies, marriage, rings and then you spring him on me. Everytime I agree to give you time, you end up giving your time to somebody else. Regardless if it’s a real relationship or not, you’re giving time you promised to me, to somebody not me so yea, it makes me hesitate with this time shit.”

“It’s not like you’ve been waiting all alone.”

“Actually I have. Commenting on IG and shit doesn’t mean nothing when it doesn't translate to real life. ‘I’ve been chilling, minding my business, and taking care of myself. I’ve done nothing but wait by myself.”

“I never asked you to do that.”

“You’ve never asked me to do a lot of things but you knew I would, did you not?”

“I did.”

“So I rest my case.”

“This isn’t easy, Chris.”

“I never said it was but you aren’t making it any easier either.”

“Clearly.”

“So what exactly is your next step?”

“Haven’t figured it out yet. I really don’t know what I want or what I want to do.”

“Just chill for a minute. Give yourself time to relax and actually sleep for a while, it’ll come to you.”

“You’re always good for a positive thought.”

“I don’t like seeing you stressed out, Baby Girl. Makes me anxious and puts me on offense.”

“Chris, you can't protect me from myself.”

“I can try.”

Rihanna laughed as she leaned up to kiss his lips, “what’s your plans?”

“I came here for you. It’s up to you.”

“I just needed to clear my head, probably should’ve come here alone in that case.”

“That’s very true but you also had an image to upkeep so a certain presence makes sense.”

Rihanna sighed, “can I quit?”

“You can do whatever you want to do. Why are you asking me?”

“Because you’re my conscience right now. Can I quit?”

“Depends on why you want to quit.”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you quitting because you’re done or because you’re running?”

Rihanna went to say something then closed her mouth. Chris gently rubbed her thigh, “I am the last person to be giving advice on anything because I still don’t completely have my shit together but I do know what happens when you make decisions based on fear and not fact. I’ve wasted great opportunities doing it.”

“Like?”

“Our entire relationship. Past and present.”

“We’ve both done it if that’s the case.”

“We have, I just actually acknowledge it.”

“I really have no idea what to do.”

“You could start by stopping selling the public dreams.”

“What?”

“You keep pulling people into your PR antics, and that’s what they are no matter how you try to justify it, for the sake of keeping up an image that the public is comfortable with instead of actually being yourself. You being a savage is a cover. You being this pick ‘em and dump ‘em person is a cover. All a mask. You are selling them a version of you that is not real.”

“How would you know that it’s not real?”

“Because I know you. I know you in ways that the public would never get to know you. That’s why you burn out so quickly. That’s why you can’t commit to whatever you’re doing for so long because you’re not being true to you.”

“You’re only saying that because you’re included in what I want to do.”

“I’m saying it because it’s true. Listen, I’ve been out of the picture for extended periods of time and you still stick to the script. You pick people who you don’t really like because you know that they can’t hurt you. I pick people because they’re easy to get and easy to dismiss. I go for ease. You go for comfort.”

Rihanna sucked her teeth as she folded her arms across her chest, “I don’t agree with that.”

“I can accept that, don't make what I said wrong though.”

“So what about you?”

“What about me? I am a complete and utter fuck up at times, I’m transparent about that. I play games to distract myself and others from reality. I bullshit myself a lot but I know it. I accept it therefore I accept the consequences that come from it. You, on the other hand, not so much.”

“Are you saying that I don’t accept accountability?”

“Yea, pretty much.”

Rihanna pushed off his lap and moved to grab the duffel bag she was holding earlier, “Wow, tell me how you really feel.”

“Baby Girl, if you accept accountability, you wouldn’t be lying and justifying things to anyone, especially not to yourself. You wouldn’t be cleaning out the pictures of a man that you publicly entertained for a year even though you didn’t like him. You wouldn’t be hiding and letting the world turn you into a recluse, just to do what you want to do. You wouldn’t be teasing albums when all you really want to do is make clothes and make up. You’d be upfront and honest regardless of others’ reactions. The fact you haven’t and you can’t even verbally express why without providing justifications for it is exactly why we’re having this conversation. None of this can happen without your participation. You have to be accountable for that.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“That’s fine.”

“And I’d like you to leave.”

“That’s fine too.”

“Are you serious?”

“I didn’t come here to argue with you or make you feel worse but we’ve prided ourselves on being honest with each other thus far so I don’t regret what I’ve said. I’m not judging you because we do what we have to do to survive,” Chris stood up and straightened his pants, “I’ve done worse. I’ve fucked up my life worse so I’m telling you from experience. IF you want to quit, you need to be honest with yourself about why and once you do that, you need to be honest about how you got to this point in the first place. That’s the only way for you to quit in peace because the change of outside circumstances doesn’t get rid of the issues inside you. That much I know for sure even though I’m still figuring out what comes next.”

“And this makes you so much better than me, huh?”

“Absolutely not. I’m still fucking up but I’m honest with myself about why and work on how to not do it again. I backslide every once in a while but I’m human. Maybe if you accepted that part about you, you wouldn’t be working so hard to keep up this image for the world.”

“I went back to you after everything we’ve been through, that wasn’t enough?”

“Wow. I hoped you came back to me because you wanted to, not to make me your redemption story. If loving me was the worst thing you think you’ve done as a human, that’s on you. I think. I’m just your most public mistake. Don’t confuse the two.”

“I never said you were a mistake.”

“Nope but you’re saying it as if our second chance was the only thing you’ve done that others’ didn’t accept. You’re protected but you’re not invincible.”

“Sounds like you want me to fail.”

“I want you to be honest with yourself about who you are so you can stop acting like what you’re pretending to be isn’t a bunch of bullshit. I want you to be successful while being you, the real you.”

“Chris.”

“Rih, Baby Girl, there’s really nothing else to say and I think I’ve pissed you off enough for the night.”

Chris walked over and kissed her cheek before he started walking towards the door, “Tell Mel I said bye. Oh, and you missed a couple pictures on the console.”

He left.

“You know he’s actually right, Robs. He might be a fuck up sometimes but he’s an honest one,” Melissa said as she walked into the room.

“I’m guessing you heard,” Rihanna replied.

“I did. I thought y’all were about to start arguing so I was standing in the hallway.”

“No need. He doesn’t really like to argue with me anymore.”

“That bothers you.”

“It does.”

“Why?”

“It’s uncomfor-” Rihanna stopped mid-sentence, “Am I really that bad? Do I really avoid accountability like that?”

“Nobody can answer that but you. Maybe you really do need time. I’m not saying to shut down into complete isolation but you need to really think about your life and how you want to live it moving forward. Nobody is saying that the world needs to know everything but at least let what you do decide to let them in on, be honest and true to you. If you don’t want to do music or if you only want to do it on your own time, be honest about it. If you want to date, do it but be honest about it. You can be private without treating your personal life as a secret. The best savages are the honest ones.”

Chris had just pulled into his driveway when his phone rang with a FaceTime call. He put the car in park then slid over the answer key, “Hey Baby Girl.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“But I do. I overreacted and it wasn't fair especially since you came all that way to see me.”

“And you had all right to tell me to leave if you no longer wanted me there. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“Are you home yet?”

“I just pulled into the driveway. What’s up?”

“Can I stop by?”

“Sure. I’ll order something for us.”

“OK. I’ll see you in a little bit.”

“Cool.”

#chrianna shorts

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faustrinus · 4 years

Text

Warm

* Drarry (TW: mentions of blood and injuries). This is my second time posting this haha I am sorry. “Bloody hell, Potter.”

Harry lifted his head, staring at the blood pooling from his torso, “Yeah, it’s really bloody,” he agreed, “in case you couldn't tell.”

“This is no time for jokes, you git!” Draco rushed over, fumbling for his wand. “What did you do?”

Draco staunched the bleeding with a flick of his wrist and sighed, trying to assess the damage. How did I end up here? He asked himself for the hundredth time. Finding your Auror partner bleeding out on your driveway should be a strange sight, but it was one that Draco was all too familiar with.

“Where is the injury?” he asked, siphoning the blood off the ground with his wand.

“'m fine,” Harry slurred, mumbling something incoherent under his breath.

“Bullshit, where is it?”

Harry huffed. “Torso. Right side.”

The injury was starting to bleed again, so Draco didn't waste any more time. The slash across his ribs had torn a hole in Harry’s robes, so Draco used his hands to widen the hole to get a better look at the area. By now, the blood was pooling again- and the way Harry was squirming like a fish out of water was making it worse.

“Stop moving!” Draco snapped, using his hands to press on Harry’s ribs.

“It hurts.”

“I know, but it will hurt a lot more if you keep moving. Just listen to me for once in your bloody life.”

“Fine, just-” Harry gestured with a limp hand. “try and make it quick.”

Are you really in the position to be bossing me around? Draco shook his head, trying to remain calm. Healing was easier when you were calm, and Draco needed a steady grip on his wand for this to work.. He couldn't let Harry die, not like this.

Draco pointed his wand at the wound, forcing his arm to stop shaking as he began muttering an incantation that made Harry wonder if Malfoy was singing to him at that moment by the tone every word was pronounced, the wand tracing the long injury slowly, it seemed like he knew exactly what he was doing, coming from some knowledge buried deep down in his memory. The flow of blood got slower and there was less, provoking a breath of relief from Draco, the spell was repeated one more time before the wound started to knit itself, making Harry flinch in discomfort for the suddenly burning sensation in the area. At least he's alive. “Now that you're not dying, could you tell me what on Merlin's beard happened here?”

“Thieves. They were trying to get into your house.”

“Potter. While I appreciate the concern,” and Draco coughed to hide the fact his heartbeat was louder than he expected it to be, “I am, in fact, fully able to defend myself.”

“Even without magic? The Ministry wouldn't like knowing you performed magic in front of muggles.”

“I would have managed.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, “Really?”

“That doesn't matter. Why were you outside of my house?”

Harry tried to shrug, wincing from the movement and biting back a whimper, “I was just checking on you.”

“Checking on me? Why?”

“I haven't seen you at work in a few days. I wanted to find out if something happened to my partner.”

My partner. Draco was thankful that the streetlights were dim enough that this blush was hidden. "Luckily, it seems like no one saw anything," Draco changed the subject, "so if you could get up-" Draco cut himself off as he got a better look at Harry's face. "Is that a black eye?"

“Ehm.. yes?” Harry prodded at his eye, “I think so.”

“You think so?”

“Well, I dunno, you're the one who can see me,” Harry grumbled, he made no move to get up.

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. Did Harry have any survival instincts? He'd survived dozens of harrowing situations- both during and after Hogwarts- and yet here he was, bleeding and bruised on Draco's driveway. If Harry always acted like this when his life was at stake... it was a wonder that he hadn't been killed yet.

“Come on, let's get you inside," Draco sighed, "before someone sees.”

“You didn't mind that earlier. When I was drowning on my own blood.”

“That's because I wasn't interested in your blood staining my best rug, Potter," Draco said dryly, "besides, your life is a little more important than the Statute of Secrecy.”

“Thanks for that, I think. Can't wait to see your fancy rug.”

Draco huffed and slipped an arm under Harry's back to help him sit, cringing inwardly at the blood that soaked through his robes. He just needed to get Harry inside and make sure he wasn't about to die- and then he could worry about the states of his clothes. “I think I'm okay,” Harry grunted, relying heavily on Draco to stand.

“Careful,” Draco said sharply, “the wound is only knitted. It'll still hurt. “

”'m fine,” Harry insisted, but he let Draco wrap his arm around his waist anyways, "What about my glasses?”

“Draco cast his eyes to the ground, but he couldn't see anything in the darkness. “I'll find them later." he said.

Harry nodded and shuffled forward, and he would have fallen over if it wasn't for Draco supporting nearly his entire weight.

“You alright?” Draco asked tentatively.

“Yeah,” Harry grimaced, "doesn't hurt so bad."

Draco nodded, pretending not to notice the way Harry was gritting his teeth. He resolved to use a pain relief spell as soon as they were inside.

They both started walking towards the black door that opened itself with a flick of Draco's wand. Harry felt a wave of warmth envelop him as they passed the threshold, like a welcoming hug for his shivering body. From the outside, Draco's house looked like it'd be similar to what time ago was the Malfoy manor, but on the inside, it was the total opposite. Rugs covered the dark wood floor under each piece of furniture, and despite the monochromatic (green, of course) colour scheme, it was still very home-like.

“Your house is much nicer on the inside," Harry said, trying to fill the awkward silence.

“I have a lot of wards to keep things warm,” Draco explained, slowly guiding Harry to the sofa, "mostly for when winter comes around since I'm generally a pretty cold person.”

Harry huffed a laugh, “cold, as in personality or…”

“Right, that too, Potter.” Draco rolled his eyes.

The candelabrum hanging above the living room was what reminded Harry the most of the Malfoy manor, with its expensive design and sparking metal accents. The sofa that Draco lead him was clearly expensive, too- and there was a certainly reason for its price. Harry sighed with relief when his body hit the soft cushions. It even smelled good- he sighed deeply as mil citrus scent- Draco's scent- surrounded him.

“I like your sofa,” Harry murmured.

Draco arched an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smile, "I noticed," he said, rolling up his sleeves, and kneeling on the ground next to the sofa, "You look like a mess."

Harry tried to laugh, but he felt dizzy instead- like the world had stopped for a moment before getting back on route. His eyelids dropped, and the last thing he saw before losing consciousness was the worried expression across Draco's face. “Potter, stay here.” And then everything went dark.

...............

When Harry woke up he felt weak, the type of weakness where you move a little and your body sends a big alarm reminding you you're going to faint if you try to move a lot. It was annoying to feel so useless when there was probably someone out there needing his Auror services.

Well, the good thing was that he did faint once, so it wasn't that probable for him to do it again. And seeing how the wound was already recovering thanks to what seemed like Draco healing abilities, Harry's spirits lifted up, it looked so much better and it also didn't hurt half as much. It was a really well-done work.

But of course, his muscles were still aching like he had run some type of marathon.

“You're awake.”

His eyes tried to focus, but it was hard when his classes were nowhere to be able to reach them, “Did you get my glasses?”

“Good morning to you too, Potter. And yes, yes I did,”

“Morning...?” Harry mumbled, looking around for a window to check if it was truly a new day, “How much time did I sleep?”

“Like fourteen hours? It was a lot. I don't know how you can sleep so much.”

Harry yawned and looked at Draco, who was sitting on the ground next to him, a blanket covering his legs- it wasn't really clear, but Harry could see the pillow laying on the floor and the rug wrinkled under it. Connecting all the dots was easy.

“You slept on the floor?”

“Yes, I stayed to make sure you didn't die in your sleep.”

“Sweet,” He answered rolling his eyes, “Thanks. You are very good at healing.”

Draco searched for Harry's glasses and handed them over to him, they were shining clean and looked more new than ever, “I fixed and cleaned them. They probably broke when one of the … assholes yesterday hit you.”

“You're acting very nice to me,” He started putting on his glasses, “Is it because I almost died?”

Draco ignored the comment and cracked his knuckles softly, his gaze noticing how messy Harry's hair got. It was cute seeing it sticking out in different positions and falling in a funny way on the man's face, “You were saying I'm good at healing?”

“Oh, yes. You are, the wound almost doesn't hurt anymore.”

“I'm glad. I had a lot of practice, I guess I became good without noticing.” Harry knew exactly what he was talking about- the whole sectumsempra thing. He knew Draco could not have healed himself that time because of how badly injured he was at the time, but he assumed he had to learn how to treat his own wounds after it happened.

“I'm sorry about that.”

Draco tilted his head, “Sorry about what?”

“The whole... “ Harry coughed, “curse thing.”

“Oh.”

“You weren't talking about that?”

“Not necessarily. But I guess it came to my mind now that you say it.”

Harry tried to make himself more comfortable to carry on the conversation, shifting around the couch, “Did it… leave scars?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Knowing if I left some mark on you thanks to how irresponsible my actions were is something I deserve to know. Right?”

“You want to make sure you have reasons to feel guilty?”

“Yes.”

“Potter…” Draco tried to convince him subtly to change the subject, but Harry was a stubborn bastard and he was about to start complaining again if Draco didn't tell him, “Yes, it did. Only one though, It wasn't healed fast enough I'm guessing..”

“I'm really sorry...Draco,” Harry tried to sit correctly, groaning when he felt a pull to the side due to the wound, “Can I see it?”

“What makes you so interested? I don't get it.”

“I don't really know. I guess…. to make sure you're okay?”

Draco couldn't help but laugh a little, “It was years ago. Why wouldn't I be okay?”

But Harry was still staring at him to what looked like his attempt of puppy eyes- how old was he again? ten?

“Please.”

“Just because you almost died doesn't mean now you get everything on a silver plate.”

“We haven't seen each other in a long time. As Aurors we need to have a bond.”

He really wasn't giving up.

“Fine.”

Draco mumbled something and grabbed his wand that was laying next to him and muttered some spell. It took a few seconds for Harry to see it, there was a long scar going up from his neck to what it seemed down his chest. It wasn't really striking, but it was noticeable at a close distance. That's why Draco used a glamour charm- they were always working side to side, Harry would have already noticed and asked about it.

“It reached your neck? Merlin, it had to hurt a lot.” Draco denied softly and sighed, maintaining the charm drained his energy sometimes, “It's okay. Stop worrying about stupid things.”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, “I almost killed you. It's not stupid.”

“I think we can both agree it's too early to talk about this, Harry.”

Harry grunted but nodded anyways, letting himself relax a little. You almost die a few times and you get all sappy he thought, brushing the thoughts away. They stayed in silence a few seconds, and Harry could sense how his heart was beating a little bit faster than usual- how was he still paranoid after what happened yesterday? It was Draco's house, both of them were there, it was safe. Yet he still could hear his heartbeat bouncing around like it was a goddamn party in his chest.

“You know… Now it's my second bad memory with a knife, not really fond of them.”

“Well, I'm glad. I would be worried if you were fond of them.”

Harry giggled softly, making Draco smile a little when he saw he had enough strength to do it. “Well, what was the first memory?”

Draco decided to get up, stretching his legs while Harry was getting ready to say whatever he was thinking about. His eyes were squinted as he searched for the memory probably already forgotten, but when the light hit his eyes Draco saw it- he remembered.

And Harry swallowed, because he actually did not want to remember it. He was trying to keep an interesting conversation, but he had exposed himself without noticing.

“I remember that when I was living with my… The Dursleys, a lot of things happened, to be honest,” Harry started, trying to ignore Draco's stare, “clearly, they weren't the nicest people on earth. I remember this one time where I was cooking and my Aunt Petunia told me she would chop off my fingers if I messed up.”

“What?”

“It's not a big deal. But for some reason it stayed in my mind after all these years.”

Draco felt himself getting angry, “How old were you?”

“I don't remember. Seven? maybe eight.”

“Merlin's beard,” Draco eyes got wide, “You were a child, Harry, of course it stuck with you. And who in their right mind makes a seven-year-old cook?”

“I thought every kid had to do it. And I assumed Dudley didn't because well… he was their son.”

“And what were you? their servant?”

Harry shrugged, “I don't know. Something amongst those lines.”

Draco huffed, playing with the rings that adorned his fingers, “It sounds horrible.”

“But here I am,” Harry tried to play it off, but it was noticeable the subject was affecting him somehow, “all okay.”

Draco nodded and they stayed in an uncomfortable silence until he yawned, gaining Harry's attention- if he slept like fourteen hours, how many did Draco?

“...Did you sleep the same amount as me?”

“I can't hibernate like you, Potter.”

“So… you didn't sleep at all?”

“I slept a reasonable amount.”

Harry patted the empty space next to him, “How much is a reasonable amount?”

Draco hesitated a bit before slowly sitting next to the man- he would notice he was looking a bit tired. Well, it wasn't easy looking extremely bright when you spent most of your night making sure The Chosen One didn't die on your couch.

“...two hours.”

“What? Why? two hours is nothing. How are you even alive?”

“I have survived with less, thank you very much,” and with that the conversation was done, of that he thought until Harry tugged on his sleeve a little bit stronger that Draco could have expected, making him fall against Harry's body, he blushed instantly, pushing, “What are you doing?”

“Making sure you get some sleep.”

“And you are planning to hold me?”

Harry yawned, “Yeah, pretty much,” he tugged again, making sure Draco stayed laying on top of him comfortably, “C'mon. Sleep.”

“I'm not your dog, Harry.”

“Then stop barking and get some sleep with me.”

Draco tried to push again, but Harry was holding him strongly. If he wanted to, he could have used a spell to get free of his grab- but it was rather comfortable to lay there. For a recently injured person, it was surprising Harry wasn't complaining about how he was closely brushing his wound, “What about the wound?”

“It's okay. It doesn't hurt.”

Draco accommodated himself, “If one Auror knows we…”

“Cuddled until we fell asleep?” Draco nuzzled his face into Harry's neck “Yes, that. If one Auror knows that, I'm going to hex you.”

“Sounds like a deal. Good night.”

“How are you still sleepy?”

Harry was already closing his eyes, “I save my tiredness in a little box in my brain and then I set it free.”

“Dumbass.”

“Sleep.”

At the end, Draco stopped trying to ignore the idea. “Fuck it,” he mumbled, closing his eyes and letting his head rest on Harry's chest, hearing his heartbeat.

“Draco..?”

“Oh, wow. Now you're the one interrupting my sleep.”

“It's not that.”

“Then what?”

“You lied to me about something.”

“...What?”

“You're actually warm.”

“I don't understand.”

“You're warm,” Harry repeated, sighing, “I like it.”

Draco rolled his eyes, but the faint smile drawn on his lips couldn't lie.

Maybe being warm wasn't that bad when Harry Potter was cuddling you.

#drarry #dracomalfoy #harrypotter #HarryxDraco #drarryoneshot #drarryfanfiction #drarryfanfic #dracoxharry #harryjamespotter #gay #LGBTQ PRIDE

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tripleaxeldiaz · 4 years

Text

i will learn to love the skies i’m under

read on ao3

It’s been a minute since Eddie has been in such a bad mood.

A bad mood is annoying enough as it is, but this one in particular has been lurking for about a week too long, filtering into every part of his life so that he’s pissed from the minute he opens his eyes in the morning until he’s back in bed at night.

The worst part of it all is that nothing even happened to set him off in the first place. Chris is back from camp, the 118 has been miraculously tragedy-free recently, he and Buck have even been able to work a few date nights into their endlessly busy schedules. Everything is objectively perfect for the first time in a long time.

But still, these past few days, the very act of being a human has taken so much effort.

He smiles listening to Chris talk about the latest addition to his comic book collection, but he can feel that it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and he knows he missed a bit in the middle about some big twist when he zoned out to stare at nothing. It takes extra energy to make sure he’s focused during shift, so any socializing in between calls just feels draining. The jokes, the carefree laughs, it all slowly grates on him, his skin itching like it’s trying to slide off his bones. He tries, still, laughs at all the right places, but by the end of the day he’s retreating to the bunks between calls instead of the loft, blaming it on a migraine or sore back when he’s questioned.

He’d had his bi-weekly with Frank shortly after it started, but even he couldn’t offer much help.

“I can prescribe you something if this keeps going on and starts interfering with work or family. Otherwise, try and focus on the positives in your life. It’s easier said than done, but sometimes it makes all the difference.”

So he was trying. He went out for drinks with the team, played with Chris in the backyard, had movie nights, the whole shebang. But everything was just off — he was off. And as much as he tried to act like he was fine, there was still that constant hum just under his skin, a constant reminder that his brain has decided hey man, I know your life is all peaches and cream right now, but that doesn’t mean shit. We’re gonna focus on the bad things instead.

What bad things? Hell if Eddie knows. He can’t focus on one good or bad thing long enough to pinpoint what exactly is making him feel like this. It just seems to be the general cloud of past traumas hanging over his brain, and it’s raining all the residual bad feelings down, and he doesn’t have an umbrella.

He sets his coffee cup down hard (harder than he meant to, really) before sitting down at the table, earning identical eyebrow raises from Hen and Chimney. He sees them look at each other out of the corner of his eye before they turn to him, pushing MCAT practice books out of the way.

“Everything alright, Eddie?” Hen asks, maternal and receptive as ever.

“Fine,” he says tightly, and great, he’s snapping at people now. His energy is so depleted that he can’t even keep his people skills in check.

“We’re here if you need us, man,” Chim says with his reassuring smile. “We won’t even tell Buck about it if you don’t want us to.”

Eddie can’t help smiling at that, though it’s still small. He does want to talk to Buck about it all, of course he does. But Buck has been pulling extra shifts this past week while Ortiz is out with a busted ankle. They’ve barely had a conversation about what groceries to get let alone the fact that Eddie feels completely out of sorts, like he’s screwing up everything he’s normally good at and can’t figure out how to do it right again. And he knows Buck will help him, knows he would want to if he knew, but he keeps convincing himself that he can figure it out on his own, that Buck is so overworked now that he shouldn’t unload any more stress onto him. That, at least, he can still control.

He wishes his brain wasn’t so damn loud.

He sighs, scrubbing a hand across his face as Hen and Chim watch him with matching weariness. “I’m okay guys, I promise. Just been feeling a little off lately.”

Hen smiles sympathetically, reaches across the table to squeeze his wrist. Chim opens his mouth like he’s about to offer his patented sage advice, but he’s quickly cut off by the alarm. They rush to the truck, and Eddie feels just a bit relieved that for at least the next two hours, he’ll be humming with adrenaline rather than baseless uncertainty. He’ll forget the clouds and the rain and focus on saving lives, something he knows he can always do well.

He almost convinces himself that clouds will stay away this time.

~~~~~~~~~~

By the end of shift, Eddie’s whole body feels like lead. The last two calls of the day weren’t even remarkable, but he feels listless and slow, and he’s glad that he can basically drive home by muscle memory now, because the rain is pounding in his brain agan and it’s hard to focus on anything. As he sits in the driveway, willing his body to get up get up get the hell up, he allows himself to slip for a minute. Maybe if he lets some of the rain in, briefly succumbs to the ever brewing storm, it’ll release some of the pressure and it’ll be easier to breathe. Maybe he’ll feel like himself again for the first time in weeks.

10 minutes later, and he’s pretty sure he just feels worse.

He opens the front door and is greeted by darkness and silence. Christopher is at a sleepover, and the first thing he feels when he remembers is relieved, because now he can sit in his dark living room, alone, all night, and see if he’ll feel better if he stews a little longer. Maybe he can work it out of his system in a few hours instead of a few minutes.

He also feels a little guilty that he’s glad his son isn’t around, but he can just add that to all the other bad feelings. Might as well keep fueling the fire, at this point.

As he drops his bag in the entryway, he notices that it’s actually not totally dark in his house. There’s a soft glow coming through the sliding glass doors that lead to the patio, and he’s pretty sure he hears music too now that he’s paying attention. As he makes his way outside, he’s greeted by blankets and every pillow they own set up on the lawn, pad thai containers, and his boyfriend drenched in string lights and moonlight, adjusting the speakers set up around the yard.

Buck looks up as he hears the door slide closed, smiling brightly, and Eddie swears he can feel the rain lighten up. It’s still there, steady as ever, but the drops aren’t as heavy. Buck meets him at the door, drops a kiss on his cheek, and Eddie’s hands instinctively come up to rest on Buck’s hips.

“What’s all this?” Eddie asks as he continues surveying the yard. “I thought you were working tonight?”

Buck shrugs, his hands grabbing Eddie’s as he steers them to the pillow nest. “Ortiz got cleared for work a few days early, asked for her shifts back. Plus it’s a beautiful night, and I really just wanted to spend it with you.”

He kisses Eddie, warm and sweet, and pulls him down to sit next to him. They start to eat, chatting about everything they’ve missed since they’ve been on opposite shifts, and for a minute, Eddie can almost pretend like everything is normal, like a reset button has been pushed and he can breathe again. He always felt like Buck’s presence and love was a balm for his heart, but it’s moments like these where he’s reminded just how true that actually is.

But as they finish up, lying back and lapsing into comfortable silence, Eddie’s mind starts wandering again. All he wants to do is look at the stars, but the clouds are back, dark as ever, and he doesn’t have the strength to keep fighting them off. He just wants a minute of peace with his boyfriend, that really doesn’t seem like too much to ask.

“You wanna let me know what’s got you all huffy?” Buck asks, his fingers running through Eddie’s hair as his head rests on Buck’s chest. He thought he’d been keeping his irritation in his head. Or maybe he has, and Buck really can read his mind like Eddie’s always suspected he can.

“I’m fine,” he mumbles, and he knows it’s not convincing. Buck doesn’t press though, just kisses the crown of his head and keeps his fingers moving.

And that’s it, for whatever reason. Buck allowing him to just be, not expecting him to put up a front or plaster on a smile. Letting him navigate the storm in his head on his own, silently supportive. No one else has really pried or made him talk either, but with Buck it’s different. Everything is different with Buck. Eddie knows that he can fully lean into himself and Buck won’t think any less of him or ask too much of him. And he’ll be there when he can finally articulate what the hell is going on.

Eddie shifts up, lying on his side so he and Buck are face to face. His eyes flit over Buck’s face, searching for...he’s not sure what. Just taking in the fact that he’s here for Eddie, in every way, and judging by the soft but determined look in his eyes, he doesn’t plan on going anywhere. Eddie closes his eyes, lets out a hard breath through his nose. He feels Buck’s hand come up to rest on his jaw, gentle and grounding.

“Everything just feels...bad. I feel bad. And I have no reason to feel like that, because this is the most solid my life has been in years, but that makes me feel even worse.” Buck’s thumb traces a soothing trail along his skin as he collects his thoughts. “It takes so much of me to function normally and it gets harder and harder every day. People keep asking if I’m fine and I am, I should be, but I don’t know how to say, ‘Things are going great but I still feel like garbage and I can’t stop blaming myself for not being able to be happy.’”

Buck’s hand moves down to Eddie’s waist and tugs, their bodies pressing together, his head resting on top of Eddie’s. Finally being able to put words to the noise in his brain helped, but he still feels the static at the surface of his skin, and everything still feels wrong.

“Honey, it is absolutely not your fault that you’re feeling like this,” Buck whispers as his hands start roaming up and down Eddie’s back. “As much as you try and control your emotions, sometimes we don’t get a say in the bullshit our brain makes up, and it can be hard to tell if it’s lying or not.”

Eddie sighs, feels his throat catch as he tries to talk. “I’m just tired of being mad for no reason. It’s one thing when I know specifically what’s pissing me off, but having it be everything and nothing at the same time is exhausting.”

“Then rest, baby. It’s just you and me now, you don’t have to pretend for me. I’m here for the ups and downs, no matter what.”

Eddie doesn’t know who or what blessed him with a man as good as Buck, but he’ll be paying them back until the day he dies. He’s never had someone he could fully let his guard down around, and now that he does, it’s strange and wonderful, something he hopes he never gets used to and never takes for granted.

He can’t find the words to thank Buck, so he kisses him instead. Long and slow, pouring every once of gratitude he has into it, hoping Buck feels it. He thinks he does as he feels him smile against his lips.

He takes Buck’s advice, shifting back to settle into his chest, lets his body get heavy, tries to force the tension away. Buck’s hands on his back and lips on his forehead help.

He’s not miraculously better, but he feels a little less weary. Left of center instead of all the way off course. The rain is still coming down in his mind, but Buck is there with strong arms, a warm heart, and an umbrella big enough for both of them.

He’ll always be there, Eddie knows that for sure. It makes weathering the storm a little easier.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #9-1-1 fox #buddie fic #sir that's my emotional support firefighter that i project my feelings onto #ficcery #soft eddie rights

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parkrstark · 4 years

Text

ben’s old number

5k | (ao3 link) | buy me a ko-fi?

Peter’s shaking thumb clicked the familiar contact number only moments after he woke up from the nightmare. It was almost 3am, but Ben worked midnights and hopefully, if he was by his phone he could pick it up and just talk to him to reassure him it was all going to be okay--.

The thought was smashed when a woman answered the phone. “Hello?”

Peter couldn’t breathe.

How could he forget?

Ben wasn’t going to pick up the phone. Ben was dead. And his phone number was gone.

He didn’t say a word, but whoever was on the other line could definitely hear his labored breathing. A woman sounded annoyed when she spoke, “I’m not in the mood for your damn practical jokes.”

Peter just wanted Ben to pick up. He wanted to hear his voice.

“Hello? What are you still doing? I’m not buying anything. And take me off your list. Should be ashamed for calling folks this late at night.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered suddenly, his body refusing to stop shaking. The nightmare was still fresh in his mind and the fact that Ben wasn’t there to pick up the phone made it even worse.

“Sorry?”

“I shouldn’t have called-- I wasn’t thinking. I thought he’d be there.” Because he was always there. Peter squeezed his eyes shut as tears rolled down his cheeks.

The woman didn’t respond right away but when she did, her voice was softer. “Well, he may not be here, but I am. If you need someone to talk to.”

Peter couldn’t say anything, but the woman on the other end didn’t rush him. She sensed he wasn’t going to say anything and spoke softly instead. Peter wasn’t sure what she was saying, but it was easy to focus on her soothing voice. Before long, his breathing had pretty much evened out.

“Sounds like you’re back with me,” she said, cutting herself off on a conversation about...her cats?

“Back?” Peter said, still trying to calm himself down.

“You were freaking out moments ago-- you have anxiety, son?” It didn’t sound harsh or rude, only patient.

“Bad dream,” he whispered, his voice still raw from the scream he let out as he shot up in bed.

“Not that I mind the call, but why’re you talking to me?” Now that Peter could something other than he panicked breathing, he could hear her voice. It was soft and she sounded older, probably in her 60s or 70s.

“It’s a long story,” Peter said just because this stranger didn’t want to hear him whine.

“Seems like I've got the time. Since you already woke me up,” she said, her voice teasing.

Still, Peter apologized. “I'm sorry for waking you. I usually call this number and get his voicemail.”

“Who is he?”

Peter swallowed around the lump in his throat. “My uncle. You’ve got Uncle Ben’s old number.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's okay. It was a few months ago.” 4 months ago. And it still hurt like hell.

“My husband passed three years ago and sometimes it feels like just yesterday.”

“Does it get any easier?” Peter whispered, afraid of the answer.

Her reply was hesitant. “Sometimes it's easier to forget there's a part of you missing. It never truly does leave.”

He already knew that. Even if he only knew his parents for the first few years of his life, there were nights he missed them more than anything. “It sucks,” he said.

The woman laughed. “Yeah. It does suck. But he wouldn't want you to be upset over them. He had his life; it's time for you to live yours.”

But Ben didn't get his life. He died in his early 40s because of Peter...that wasn't a life. That was half of a life. All because of Peter.

“He deserved more.”

“Only the Lord knows why he takes them from us so soon. I wish He didn't...but there's a reason out there.”

Peter clenched his fist, remembering the countless nights after losing Ben that he spent screaming at God. It had been a strained relationship ever since, to say the least.

“And I know right now it's hard to see, but it'll be okay.”

Peter appreciated her taking her time to talk to him and even calm him down from an anxiety attack, but this wasn't going to help. He'd talked to dozens of people, including the school psychologist about finding peace and knowing Ben was safe and happy now.

Why couldn't he be safe and happy here?

It wasn't fair.

“Are you still there, son?”

Peter blinked the angry tears from his eyes. “Yeah. You know what, I'm gonna head back to bed. I've got school tomorrow so…”

“Are you okay to sleep?”

“‘Course. I'm sorry again, ma’am,” Peter apologized quickly. “I'll let you go now.”

“If you need someone to talk to again...you know who to call,” she said before Peter could hang up.

“Yeah...thank you. Goodnight.”

Peter hung up his phone and shoved it on his desk. He fell onto his bed, laid down, and cried.

It had been months since he last called the phone number. Ben wasn't on the other side anymore. Not even his voice-mail.

There was no reason to bother that poor old lady.

But he didn’t know who else to call.

“It’s their anniversary today,” he told her when she picked up the phone. “It’s her first one without him.”

She stayed quiet, but Peter could hear her breathing softly.

“I could tell she was upset so I left the apartment to give her some space.” He wiped the tears off his face. “I’m sitting in a nearby park. My uncle and I used to come here a lot when I was upset. He always knew...what to say. I wish I could do that for May.”

“I think just being there for her might help,” the woman said.

“I want her to remember how it was before I came into her life and ruined it,” he said, kicking at a pebble with his shoe. “If I never came along, they’d be enjoying a romantic day together.”

“Something tells me you didn’t ruin her life. I’ve seen parents that don’t care for their children. I know what that looks like. But from the few stories you’ve told me, I don’t think that’s true.”

Peter grunted as he watched a father chase his child around the playground. Jealously was gnawing at his heart. “I ruin everyone’s life. Everyone leaves me.”

“Your uncle--.”

“My mom, my dad, my uncle...they all just left.” Peter scrubbed at his eyes, hoping the tears wouldn’t start falling in public.

“People would stay with you their whole lives if they could. I know that for a fact. You’re a good kid.” She was trying to make him feel better just like Ben used to. But it didn’t work. Nobody could ever make him smile again like Ben could.

“Doubt it.”

It was silent on both ends for a few moments before she spoke again, “Do you feel like this a lot? Like a burden to the people in your life?”

“Sometimes. Yeah.”

“Do you have someone to talk to? Someone other than me, I mean.”

Peter immediately felt guilty. “I’m sorry for always bothering you. I’ll stop calling. I’m sorry--.”

“No. No. That’s not what I meant. I just don’t want you suffering by yourself. I’m only a phone call away, but I want you to have someone in your life there for you. In person.”

“I have my aunt and my best friend. I have people...just sometimes, I don’t want to put it on them. May already has been through a lot and my best friend is just a kid. It’s hard. Ben used to be the one that knew how to fix everything.”

“I don’t mind being that person for now, but I’m not sure I’m the best. Maybe start talking to your aunt about this more. She might need someone to talk to too.”

“I don’t need someone new!” Peter shouted, angry at her for even suggesting it. “I just need him!”

He hung up the phone before she could answer. He stood up from the bench and started to walk away as the tears started to pour. He didn’t want anyone to see him this upset. These kids on the playground didn’t deserve their days ruined by an emotionally unstable teenager.

HIs phone rang twice before he got back to his apartment. He knew it was the woman, but he didn’t know for sure until he got back into his room and he saw two missed calls from Ben on his phone. He hadn’t seen that since the night he ran off and Ben called him to come home.

Peter let out a cry and threw the phone against his wall, watching it put a hole in the wall and probably shatter the entire screen.

He fell to the floor next and cried.

“Your call has been forward to an automated voice message system recording.”

“I-I’m sorry about how I acted earlier. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m sorry.”

“Your call has been forward to an automated voice message system recording.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you the other day. I’m sorry. I just-- I get so angry when I think about Ben because it was my fault. Everyone tells me it wasn’t, but I know it was. And I hate myself for what I did. I yelled at him too. The last thing I did was yell at him. I never got to say sorry. Or to tell him that I loved him. And--.”

Beeeeeeep.

“Your call has been forward to an automated voice message system recording.”

“I’ll stop calling you. I’m sorry.”

“...Hello?”

“Your uncle didn’t need you to tell him you loved him for him to know. He knew you much you loved him every moment of his life.”

He tried to limit how much he called her after that.

But one day, he found himself clicking on Ben’s contact without even thinking. There was a grin on his face. He knew Ben wouldn't be there, but his excitement told him to call anyway.

He shouldn't have been surprised when she picked up. “Hello?”

“I got an internship from Tony Stark!” Peter said because he couldn't exactly tell this stranger he was Spider-Man and Iron man recruited him.

“Oh-- well, congratulations.” It was so obviously the woman's voice, but he just wanted to be happy for once and pretend everything was okay.

“Can you believe it? Tony Stark wants me. He's been my hero since I was a little kid. Remember when you took me to that Stark Expo? And the Hammer drones almost fried me-- but he came in and saved me?”

Of course, she didn't. She wasn't there.

But he was.

“You got so mad, but I know it was only because you were so worried. Man, I was a dumb kid.” He laughed. “But, anyway, I just wanted to tell you the news. Can't believe Tony Stark actually chose me.”

Her voice was low as she responded, “I'm proud of you.”

Something broke inside Peter at that and the tears started falling. “Thank you.”

“I know he'd be very proud of you too. Sounds like he raised quite a brilliant boy.” Her voice was warm with praise and he was okay with that. Because it was obviously for Ben. Ben was the one that raised him into the person he was today. He deserved all the credit.

“I just want to make him proud.”

“Believe me. You do,” she said, softly.

But how could she know that? She had no idea how Ben died. Why he died. Whose fault it was. There was no way she could know it was all because of Peter and still say Ben was proud of him. “You don’t...you can’t say that. Not if you knew.”

“Look at you. Look at how you’re feeling, what you’re thinking. I don’t know you, son, but I know you. I know you are definitely the kind of kid any parent or uncle would be proud of. Hell, I’m tempted to go brag about you at my cards night.” She laughed and Peter listened hard as if he could hear Ben’s laugh in hers.

“I just want to make him proud,” Peter said, softly. “I wish he was here so I could tell him. He’d be so happy.”

“I’m sure he would be,” the woman agreed. “And he’s up there looking down at you. I know he is. Don’t ever think he isn’t or he wouldn’t be proud.”

“He always told me I’d do great things one day. He told me he’d be there every step of the way, cheering me on,” his voice cracked at the end.

“He’s still cheering you, son. I bet he’s your biggest fan up there.” She laughed softly. “He’s telling all of the other angels you’re his boy.”

Peter hesitated, trying to keep his voice from fully breaking. “It’s not fair.”

“It never is.”

“We won! We won the World Series!” Peter practically screamed into his phone as he threw himself on his bed. The tattered old Mets hat was still on his head, his hair curling around the edges of it around his head. It was a bit tight on him, but he wasn’t ever going to replace this one.

Ben bought it for him at his first Mets game.

“Hate to break it to you, son, but I’m a Yankees fan,” said the familiar voice that Peter had started to see as a friend, even though he didn’t even know her name.

“Oof,” Peter said, “You’re one of them?”

She chuckled. “Yes. I am one of them.”

“It’s okay. So is Mr. Stark.” Peter closed his eyes and smiled at the memories from earlier that day. “I’ve tried converting him, but he won’t listen.”

“You won’t convert me either, kid. My hubby had season tickets and he’d drag me along to almost every game when they played at home.”

“Not a good season to be a Yankee fan, huh?” Peter grinned.

“You better watch yourself,” she said with no heat to her words. “We’ve got 27 wins, bud. What? Is this your third?”

Peter rolled over staring at the Mets poster he had on his wall signed by a few players. “Ben always promised he’d take me to the parade when they won. He’d take me out of school and we’d celebrate together.”

“He’s not missing it. He was watching the game with you.”

Peter looked down at his blanket, feeling the guilt he’d been trying to ignore. “Mr. Stark offered to take me to the parade-- not that I need a chaperone...but he wanted to join me. Make a day out of it-- He thinks he can get me on a float.”

“If he does, you better tell me. Maybe I’ll have to check out the parade then. Will you wave to me?”

Peter tried smiling, but it didn’t stay. “Do you think it’s bad...that I’m excited to go with him? It’s just...it was always something Ben promised to with me and now…”

The woman sighed sadly. “Now you feel like you’re replacing him?”

“Yeah. Because it’s...I’m happier now that I’ve been hanging out with Mr. Stark. And sometimes I stop and think about how it’s not fair that I’m happy with him and Ben isn’t.” Peter wiped at his eyes when he felt them burning with unshed tears.

“You being happy isn’t selfish, son. He’d want you to be happy. Enjoy yourself. Just because Mr. Stark is there for you doesn’t mean you’re forgetting about your uncle.”

“That’s what Aunt May says…”

“Sounds like a very wise woman,” she said softly.

“So...you think I should go? And-- it’s okay to let myself be happy when I’m there.”

“Of course it is. Your uncle wants nothing other than you being happy. Go to that parade and have the time of your life.” She chuckled again. “Afterall, the Mets winning a World Series? That’s a once in a lifetime event.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Peter replied. “Keep your eyes out for a kid with curly brown hair and slightly larger than normal ears on the Mets float. I’ll be waving right to you.”

She laughed out a loud laugh and Peter wished it was Ben. “Sounds like a plan, son.”

Peter excused himself to the bathroom in the middle of dinner. He knew he didn’t have to call her. But he wanted to. He wanted her to know he was okay. He rarely checked in anymore. “I won the science fair!”

“Oh, you did, did you?”

“Yeah! I’m going to the National level next month. Mr. Stark and I worked on it for weeks. I never thought it would actually win first place!” He leaned against the wall just outside the restroom with a smile on his face.

“Mr. Stark, huh?”

“Yeah…” Peter peered around the wall to see Tony and May sitting at their table, laughing about something they were talking about. His smile softened. “He took me and my aunt out to dinner to celebrate. It’s our favorite diner.”

“I’m glad he knows how smart you are.”

“I couldn’t have done it without him.”

“I doubt that, son.” She laughed. “But I’m happy for you. Congratulations. You better call me when you win Nationals.”

Peter nodded his head. “I will.”

“Good boy...now you go and enjoy your meal! I don’t wanna hold you up. Thank you for calling.”

“Thank you for listening.”

Their phone calls grew less and less through the months. Then, there came a time when it was almost a full year since he last dialed her number.

When Peter called her that night, he wasn’t calling Ben. He was calling her.

He was hesitant when she answered. He wasn’t sure he’d even remember him. “Hello…”

“Why hello there, stranger.”

“I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” She didn’t sound upset or angry at him.

Peter bit his lip, unsure of how to start this conversation. She seemed to sense his silence as something and started it for him.

“So, this is goodbye, huh?”

“N-not goodbye exactly…” Goodbyes scared Peter. He liked this woman. He didn’t want to just forget about her.

“Son, you don’t have to sugarcoat it. It’s alright. We both know I was only here because your Uncle wasn’t. You called me just to have someone to listen.”

“Yeah, but--.”

“And do you remember that day when I told you that you’d find someone else to talk to? Someone in your life that would make you feel a little less empty?”

Peter swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Yeah…”

“You found him. You found the person that makes the pain hurt just a bit less.” Her voice sounded like she had a smile on her face as she spoke.

Peter knew she was right. Tony was always there. Even when Peter himself didn’t know he was upset, Tony did, and he refused to let it get bad. And when it was out of Tony’s control and Peter spiraled, Tony was right there the entire time.

“Mr. Stark loves you something awful. He’s your person now. It’s okay to make room for him.”

Peter wiped at his eyes. “What about you?”

“I’ve had my children and their children since day one. I’m not alone in this either. Go and live your life. Let yourself feel happy. Let Mr. Stark cheer you on. Ben’s always there. I’ll be here too, if you ever want to say hi.”

“Thank you…” Peter paused and furrowed his brow. “I just realized I never got your name.”

She laughed and answered, “My name is Maria.”

“Nice to meet you, Maria. My name is Peter.”

Peter wasn’t supposed to be crying right now. He wasn’t supposed to cry until he saw his soon to be wife walking down the aisle. But in the dressing room before the wedding even started? No, he probably wasn’t supposed to be struggling to stifle his sobs.

He heard the door behind him open but he didn’t move. He knew who it was by the way his Spidey senses sent a wave of comfort through him. “Hey, bud, you almost ready? We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Peter hoped his voice wasn’t as weak as it felt when he spoke, “Do you ever...just miss someone?”

Tony, of course, took the humorous route. “You just talked to Ned like an hour ago.”

Peter sighed. “Mr. Stark...I’m being serious.”

Tony remained silent as he walked over and sat in front of Peter. He put a hand on his knee and squeezed when he was sitting. “Alright, bud, I’m here. I’m listening.”

“At first...I forgot he wouldn’t pick up. He was always the one I called. Good or bad. And then suddenly, it wasn’t him on the other end anymore.” Peter sniffled as he stared down at where Tony’s hand was resting. “A woman has his number now. I used to call her a lot before I met you. She said I’d find someone else like Ben, but I didn’t believe her. Until you came around.”

He looked up at saw Tony’s eyes widen. They were older now, with wrinkles pinching in the corners and his hair was starting to gray. He was getting the kind of old that Ben never got the chance to.

“I’ve called her here and there, but not for Ben. Just to see how she’s doing...it’s you that I call now. When I got accepted into MIT, when I got too drunk at that frat party, when MJ asked me out, when MJ got pregnant...it’s always you on the other end now. FOr those big things and even the little things. And I like it.”

“I like it too, kiddo.”

“But--.” Peter had to pause for a breath when he felt a sob close to escaping. “But sometimes I just miss his voice. I wish he could be here right now, telling me how nervous he was before marrying May and then he’d tell a corny joke and call me Petey and it would be okay. But he’s not. And I can’t even call his phone number to listen to his voice anymore. Sometimes I forget what he even sounds like.”

Tony cleared his throat and said, “I threw up all of Rhodey’s shoes.”

Peter furrowed his brow and sniffled. “What?”

“Right before I was supposed to be out there. Remember when I said I had adult stuff to do?”

Peter nodded his head.

“I was just trying to get you out of the room so you didn’t seem me freak out. The second you walked out, I turned around and hurled all over Rhodey’s shoes.”

Peter let out a small laugh. “That’s why he was wearing sneakers?”

Tony closed his eyes and nodded his head. “Yup. That’s why he was wearing sneakers. Peter laughed again. “I thought you weren’t nervous one bit.”

“Are you kidding? I was like two seconds from pulling a Big and leaving Pepper at the altar.” Tony shook his head. “Rhodey was the one that calmed me down after...changing out of his shoes. It’s okay to be nervous. It’s good to be nervous.”

Peter let out a long breath. “I just...I’m about to marry the love of my life and she’s got our baby inside her. I don’t want to ruin this.”

Tony put his hands on Peter’s shoulders and said, “You will not ruin anything. I’m not anywhere near the man you are and I turned out fine. You’re going to be an amazing husband and an incredible father.”

“Thanks, Mr. Stark,” Peter said, smiling softly.

Tony pulled him in for a tight hug and whispered in his ear, “No problem, Petey.”

“He’s beautiful,” Tony whispered, looking down at the newborn in his arms. MJ was fast asleep, exhausted after the hours of labor.

Peter smiled next to him, keeping his voice low too. “His name is Benjamin Anthony Parker.”

Tony lifted his head to stare at Peter with wide eyes that were already filling with tears. “You named him after…”

“After Ben and you. My two biggest fans.”

“I’m telling May you said that.” Tony said with a soft laugh.

“Guess I’ll have to name my daughter May then.” Peter moved closer to Tony so that their arms were touching. Neither of them said a word as they both stared down at Peter’s son, who was only a few hours old. He was blinking back up at Tony, unaware of the man holding him and just how much he loved him. “Being a grandpa looks good on you.”

“God, I’m not that old, Parker. I’m the cool uncle.”

“Ned is the cool uncle.”

“Cool is kinda pushing it.”

Peter tried to hold back his laugh so he didn’t wake his sleeping wife. “Yeah. You’re right.”

“Always am.”

Peter reached over to push his finger into Benjamin’s hand. “I wish Ben could meet him. I wish I could give him a call and let him know.”

“Why don’t you? Did you forget his number?”

“No. Of course not.” Even if he didn’t have his number saved still he would never forget it.

“Then why don’t you give him a call? Tell him you named him after him. Me too. Don’t forget that part.”

Peter pulled his cell phone from his pocket and sighed. “I guess I could give her a call. I want to thank her for the gift she brought to the baby shower anyway. Even if it’s a Yankees onesie.”

“I personally cannot wait to babysit Benny and dress him up in that.”

Peter rolled his eyes as he opened his contacts and chose Ben’s. He really needed to change that to Maria’s name. He brought the phone to his ear and wait for her to pick up. But she didn’t. It went straight to voicemail.

“Hey, this is Ben Parker, sorry I missed your call. I’m either suffering from food poison given to me by my wife or kicking my boy’s ass in a Nerf gun war. Give me a call later and I’ll get back to you.”

Peter’s world stopped for a moment. That was...that was Ben. His Uncle. That was his voicemail. That was his voice.

Peter looked over to Tony, not even bothering to stop the tears from trailing down his cheeks. “Mr. Stark…”

“At your wedding, you wanted to hear his voice but couldn’t. I thought maybe for this milestone, he could be there for you.”

Peter hadn’t blinked once. He knew the phone was recording his message, but he couldn’t look away from Tony. “How…”

“It took a while. And I had to fight with a lot of people with the phone company. They said his recording was gone, but c’mon, it couldn’t be gone completely. It had to be saved somewhere. So I had FRIDAY search through their files linked to that phone number until they found it. And I had them put it back up. His phone line isn’t going anywhere. It’ll still be up when your kid is having a kid. Don’t worry about that.”

Peter felt his shoulders shaking with silent tears. He didn’t know what to say. Tony went through all that trouble just for him?

“And I got your friend’s new number. Maria.” Tony’s smile softened. “Pretty name...but yeah, I saved it for you so you could still talk to her. And you don’t have to go back to calling him. I’m still here and I still want to be here for everything. Whether it’s as big as Ben taking his first steps or as small as you telling me about what you had for lunch. I want to hear everything. I just thought...you’d like to hear his voice again too.”

Peter stared at Tony for another moment before turning back to his phone and dialing Ben’s number again. He didn’t even click the contact. He pretended he was 6-years-old, learning Uncle Ben’s number for emergencies.

He put the phone on speaker so Tony could hear his voice. So Ben could hear his voice. “Hey, this is Ben Parker, sorry I missed your call. I’m either suffering from food poison given to me by my wife or kicking my boy’s ass in a Nerf gun war. Give me a call later and I’ll get back to you.”

Peter took in a shaky breath as he heard Ben again. “Hey, Ben...haven’t spoken to you in a while. A lot’s happened, but I know you’ve been watching...I just wanted to tell you my son was born today. Him and mom are both healthy. I named him after you and Mr. Stark...Benjamin Anthony.” Peter paused for a second. He didn’t have forever, but he didn’t need to fit it all on this tape. Ben was always listening. “Alright, well, I’m gonna hang up. I’ll talk to you soon. Just wanted Mr. Stark and Benjamin to meet you. I love you, Uncle Ben.”

Peter hung up his phone and stared down at it. He knew Ben never really left, but it was nice to hear him again. He looked back up at Tony, even though he could barely see through his tears. “Thank you, Mr. Stark. Thank you so much.”

“You named your kid after me, Pete. It’s the least I could do.”

Peter wiped his eyes so he could look down at his son and see him. “He’s gonna grow up so loved.”

“Sure is. Spoiled too. You know how I didn’t spoil Morgan--.”

“You spoiled her. You spoiled me too.”

“That? That was not spoiling. Just you wait. You haven’t seen how bad I can spoil yet.”

Peter leaned his head on Tony’s shoulder and closed his eyes. Tony spoiled him just by growing old enough for Peter to see his hair turn gray. Nothing Tony could ever buy for Benjamin would be better than that.

“Thank you.” Thank you for giving me that.

“You’re welcome, bud.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Peter’s head. “Why don’t you go lay down next to MJ and take a nap too? Grandpa will watch the little one. He’ll be safe with me.”

Peter looked at the way his son was snuggled against Tony’s chest and he felt safe too. “Yeah. I know.”

#iron dad #peter parker #tony stark #shannon writes

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