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monkebearness · 2 months ago

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Our Story, Like a Romance Novel [Chapter 0]

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Tags: fluff, angst

Word count: 11.5k

a/n: this has been stuck in my drafts for way too long, so I decided to start posting them, while I keep on wrinkling my brain for more ideas and writing new stuff. this will have multiple characters, but the main ones will be revealed by the end. there is no smut on this chapter. it has more plot, but if you're still interested, I hope you like & enjoy it!

A young man stands in front of his open locker, buttoning up his vest before loosening his neck tie while looking at the casual attire that he’s worn earlier today. Scanning the room, he realizes that he’s the only one left in there. He tightens his tie once again–but not too tight. He inhales his hesitation, takes a deep breath, and gulps down his doubts.

Let’s do well today, he thinks to himself, perhaps the eighth time he’s told himself those same words. He closes the locker shut and walks to the door leading to another room in silence, joining the rest of the kitchen crew with a determined mindset. He faces two of his superiors–the head chef and station chef–and greets each of them with a deep bow.

“The team and I have already gotten you through the basics,” says the head chef, Geum Junghoon, to the newbie. “We’re guessing that you are now ready to work with the rest of the crew?

Yook Daewon takes one quick but careful look around the kitchen, keeping his smile and honorable ardor towards all his new employers and fellow colleagues, chefs, and servers, gathered in the same room for an event they have been preparing for the past few weeks. Despite the head chef’s lower baritone voice, Daewon only feels encouragement from his polite presence and approachable demeanor.

Mirroring the positive briefing of his employer, Daewon adjusts his tenor voice to sound more robust and confident with his light tone. “Ne, Chef! I am ready. Thank you so much for accepting me for this job. I will not disappoint you.”

“Are you sure you’re ready, Daewon-ssi?” The station chef, Jeong Hyerin, teases Daewon with her question while squinting her almond eyes to intimidate him. “This is a big night for the company. We can't risk making any messes… Especially not around our guests.”

“Yah! Go easy on him,” Junghoon immediately whispers to Hyerin, but she holds in her laughter. “It’s his first night. He proved himself last time, if that’s not enough for you.”

“Are you Daewon-ssi, Chef Geum?” Hyerin shoots a sarcastic remark back at her own superior, imitating a drill sergeant even with her light and comical tone. He raises his eyebrow at her, even if he knows that she’s messing around.

“It’s okay, Chef,” Daewon tries to simmer down the two from bickering, not realizing that she’s goofing around with him to lighten up the mood of the room. “And I’m ready, Chef Jeong Hyerin-nim. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t pass the interview, so I will do my best!”

“Well…” Hyerin smirks at Junghoon before raising her thumbs in approval. “I believe he just passed my final test.”

“How was that your final—Whatever…” Junghoon can only chuckle before looking at the corner of the kitchen in hopes of calling for the third superior’s opinion. “Chef Gong Yubin-nim! How about you? What’s your evaluation?”

“Chef, anyone’s good enough for me, as long as they’re doing their job right,” Yubin only answers him at the same tempo she’s dicing a bundle of onions on her board. She stops to look at Daewon. “So I don’t need any words from you, new guy. Just do well on your job and don’t mess up… Hyerin-ssi, come here and help the rest of us out, will ya?”

Junghoon and Hyerin couldn’t help but nod and filler words in agreement to Yubin.

Daewon quickly raises his arm to the sous chef. “Oh, I can assist—”

“No, it’s fine!” Hyerin politely stops him. “I’ll do it. There will be plenty of tasks for you to do later on. Welcome to the Kitchen, everyone. Best of luck out there!”

“Kamsahamnida, everyone!” Daewon bows to everyone at the kitchen, including the station cooks, and his fellow waiters and waitresses, as most of them reciprocate his polite and respectful gesture. “I will do my best on the job!”

All waiters and waitresses then at Hyerin and Junghoon, just as the former rushes to Yubin at the other side of the kitchen as they both chop tons more veggies with the rest of the crew, the station and junior chefs, and the porters.

Daewon sees the chefs argue while washing the goods, much to his perplexion. How can these cooks quarrel and still work together so well at the same time? If he wants to keep working there with them long enough, then maybe he can find out, but that shouldn’t be his business.

“They’re often like that, don’t mind them,” Junghoon nonchalantly assures him. “If you need help or question about anything, do not hesitate to ask any of our cooks, as well as your fellow servers, arachi? We have each other’s backs here.”

The City That Never Sleeps is a name that can pretty much refer to any well-known city across the world. New York was probably the first. There are others like Tokyo, Madrid, Manila, Sydney, and Chicago. But here in Korea, they also have a few of their sleepless cities. For one, Seoul is a city that doesn’t think of sleeping, as do most businesses and parties taking place here. And for tonight, it is both here in Daewon’s new workplace.

The clock strikes at 6:00 in the evening, alerting all of the crew in the Kitchen to line up.

“Well, then,” Junghoon tells his entire crew. “We believe all of us are finally suited to start. Welcome to the Kitchen, everyone. Welcome to ModHaus.”

It’ll be a long night. One they can’t sleep on, especially if they don’t do an optimal job.

Daewon was just accepted at the company last week. At the age of twenty-six, he’s had enough work experience to make a living, but rarely any promotions to keep past jobs. Tonight at 6:50, the Kitchen has a lot on their plate to fill in, literally, thanks to its big event concerning the future of their head corporation in the next five years or more.

Daewon’s job isn’t restricted to anything, as he went from job to job in the past. Joining this company was a surprise for him too, as everyone else whom he’s now working with, but he’s here now. And he doesn’t wanna fail his employers or disappoint his colleagues. Whenever he’s waiting at the lobby with his two feet, he looks around the grand scenery of elites and financial giants in front of him. He can never imagine himself being one of them, talking to each other about shares and projects, complimenting or backstabbing someone based on their looks or laughing about their trivialities, at least as rich folks.

Taking place at the Grand Hotel’s Central Ballroom, the guest list of this event includes businesspeople, philanthropists, and celebrities across Asia and a few collaborators who flew all the way from America and Europe. Without a doubt, it is a luxurious event for its guests, but intimidating for the staff that prepared it.

A woman in a blue dress takes a glass of mocktail from a server. “Thank you.” After a sip, she faces the guest beside her, a man in a black and purple suit. “I hope you’re not having doubts about our collaboration tonight, Mister Kim.”

“Not at all, Miss Yoon,” Kim Chungho says to her with a suave and nonchalant temper. “ModHaus has been one of the top rising companies in Korea in the past four years! How can we miss such a wonderful opportunity to work with you? It’s an honor for us and our company to be invited here tonight.”

“So is ours, Mister Kim!” exclaims Yoon Seoyeon. “What you and your company have been doing with fast and high quality livestock production is something that our country needs more than ever. We’re more than grateful that you delivered our Kitchen with your best supply for tonight.”

“That’s our pleasure!” Chungho receives her compliment well. “But speaking of products, When will dinner be ready? I’ve heard nothing but praise about the cuisine made by your ‘Kitchen’ and honestly, I’ve been anticipating how you’ll be cooking our products… I even skipped lunch today!”

Seoyeon chuckles in disbelief. “Really now? Well, I don’t advice you or anyone to go through a diet like that, but I assure you that your wait will be worth—”

The double doors from the kitchen opened up and eleven servers came out to the seven tables in the lobby, with one of them being Daewon. On their trays appeared waves of uniform yet diverse plates of culinary marvels. From East to West, the first batch of cuisine arrives thanks to the ModHaus waiting staff, starting with the appetizers.

The heads, their secretaries, and their colleagues couldn’t help but take their eyes on the cuisines coming their way. Some mouths water and throats gulp at the sight and scent of food, both familiar and unfamiliar, yet all are appetizing to the senses of each guest who was waiting for their treats. Who wouldn’t be up for a free gala meal?

“Well, how about that?” Seoyeon remarks and her enthusiasm prompts her to request a microphone from a staff member to call all guests. “Attention everyone. Our main meals are ready to serve! To our company partners, all I can say is that I can’t wait to hear what plans and proposals you have for our new collaboration.”

Almost each and every guest slowly sat on their tables, if they weren’t already there to begin with. The servers welcome them with their plates and bowls with a smile before placing each plate of appetizers.

“Enjoy your meal,” Daewon says to a guest with a smile after placing their platter.

It turned out to be quite the formal event. Hosted by ModHaus’ CEO, Yoon Seoyeon, the Seventh HAUS Event begins today, January 4, 2031. This year, its guests consist of about eight heads, dozens of representatives and celebrities from companies, agencies, and affiliate groups across Asia who were invited for this gala at the Grand Seoul Hotel.

As Seoyeon had spoken to him earlier, Mister Park Chungho from Jeju State represents his Produce Domain and has been partners with ModHaus for over eight years as one of its producers of different fresh livestock and ingredients. Now a main supplier for this event, approximately 50% of the ingredients used in the kitchen were delivered by them.

“This is quite the event, Ms. Yoon. You should be proud of this achievement,” a tall and slender woman in a dark red dress tells Seoyeon from her seat, located on the opposite side of the long dinner table. Her elegant presence garners everyone’s attention inside the room, man or woman. “And that dress… You look smashing today!”

“Oh, it’s such an honor to hear that from you. The Fashion Queen herself!” Seoyeon laughs as she can’t help but feel flattered. “But I don’t think tonight would’ve been this festive and glamorous without the designs and decorations you provided us, Miss Zhou. They simply take after you.”

“Of course, they do!” With a giggle, the guest in red dress takes in Seoyeon’s compliment to heart. “They're my precious babies, and what better nursery will help them grow and fit in with local customers than ModHaus.”

Miss Felicia Zhou hails from China, representing the Qian Fashion Imperium, though she had spent a few years in Korea during her youth. Her family company was known for cooling down any tension between her nation and their more belligerent neighbors alongside their allies due to the supreme quality yet affordable and accessible clothing they design, produce, and sell to customers worldwide. A well-known celebrity herself, Felicia is known for her past as a talented, award-winning actress and model, until she stepped down to join her family’s business from the moment it first expanded globally.

“That’s some analogy,” another guest comments from Seoyeon’s side of the table while the two continue to have a laugh with their seatmates. But due to her shining bracelet, Felicia cannot help but surprise her attention with a compliment.

“Princess Bunraksa! Oh, that’s a beautiful bracelet you have,” Felicia exclaims with glee, reaching her hands to her wrist. “I don’t I’ve ever seen that from your latest collections.”

“Thank you, Miss Zhou,” the princess chuckles at her excitement. “It’s not there… Yet. But I have to thank Seoyeon-unnie because with our new partnership, our stores can finally unveil the latest releases for this year. And please, just call me by my Korean name, Sullin.”

“Princess… I mean, Sullin-ssi…” Felicia reaches to her hand with a warm smile. “You’ve made the right choice working with ModHaus and Seoyeon-ssi… I can’t wait for your new collection, and I assure you that word will spread out in a flash.”

Hailing from Thailand, Princess Pirada Bunraksa and her family owns one of the largest production of gems, other precious stones, and jewelries—which has been supplying and financing five high-class jewelry stores across Korea since February 2027. When the Thai Princess first joined her family business, she was already in Korea, having accomplished her term as an exchange student. She volunteered to handle the necessary transactions and make the partnerships to establish their first Korean branch in Incheon before expanding to Seoul’s Jongno Jewelry District due to popular demand.

Miss Natsumi Yamada from Japan represents her family and close associates, whose corporation pioneers in tech and robotics manufacturing. They first became partners with ModHaus in its second year as an entry-level company, before Seoyeon’s term.

Mister John Gonzales is one simple and hardworking entrepreneur from the Philippines who runs a company that started to export various native products in the past two years.

Lady Kim Yerim is a renowned Korean-British businesswoman who runs Velvet Sweets, a cafe and bakery franchise that recently took most of the world by storm due to its vast assortment of innovative, delectable, and irresistible pastries and caffeinated drinks that first caught the palates of MZ and Alpha customers since their first opening.

As ModHaus also emphasizes on the welfare of its workers’ well-being, they’ve become close associates with Doctor Lucas Tan from Singapore, who has been the head of one of the leading world healthcare and newer pharmaceutical companies since 2027.

Finally ending in the industry of comfort, Mister Nguyen Lahn from Vietnam runs and represents his family line's greatest exports: furniture and textiles, and they have been providing fashion companies like Qian with high class materials, while maintaining an eco-friendly means of production, something that ModHaus also strongly advocates.

All these eight heads of companies across the globe have chosen to collaborate with one of the largest and most influential companies in Korea and Asia for some of their latest line of products and upcoming programs. Daewon took turns with his six fellow servers between serving food and waiting for the chefs’ signal. While he could not understand every single detail of the long talk between CEOs and representatives, as if he is even allowed to listen to them and their matters to begin with.

“I’m thankful to all of you for attending this gathering,” says Seoyeon. “To some, if not most of the public, this may seem like any other ordinary gala where we just spend our money on drinks and amusements and there’s no doubt about that. But I would like to take this night more as a way for us to unite and harmonize our ideals and principles because we want to spend our resources on causes that are bigger than ourselves.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Ms. Yoon,” Chungho raises his glass to her and stands up from his seat in approval. “Since the beginning, I have never regretted my partnership with the company. I’m glad that things are going smoothly under your direction.”

Felicia stands up with her raised glass as well, agreeing with his sentiments about her friend and associate. “It’s our pleasure, Seoyeon-ssi. We know to trust you well in our projects, so all of us should thank you as well for believing in them.”

“To ModHaus,” Sullin joins the two in their joint speech. “The home of possibilities.”

Everyone else at the table follows the three vocal heads as a united toast, raising their glass with nods, smiles, and bows as they look up to the head of their new partnership.

Seoyeon raises her full glass with a smile, touched by the words of her partners and associates, old and new alike. She takes a breath and tells them, “To ModHaus.”

Moments later, they sit down and go on to take delight in their meals while they converse with their seatmates about much less serious talks and possible future partnerships—just as the clock strikes eight-thirty in the evening. The cue for the kitchen servers enter with their trays of various main course meals and pitchers of drinks.

“By the looks of it, tonight looks pretty much like an upgrade from last year,” Natsumi notices. Observing the room must have reminded her of the past company gala, which her seatmates have also been guests in. “I can’t believe how different and similar the ballroom looks now, if that even makes sense.”

Lahn shakes his head. “I’m pretty you said the same thing last year, Miss Yamada.”

“I can’t say I disagree with him, though,” Sullin bluntly voices her agreement. “But the way you said it gave off the wrong impression.”

“I never said it was a bad thing,” she retorts, playing her comment as nothing short of an insult to the event. “Come on, you two. Did y’all miss the word upgrade from me?”

“Seoyeon-ssi, I couldn’t be more thankful that you chose to sponsor Velvet Sweets,” says Kim Yeri. “Especially since I was still a newbie entrepreneur from overseas, it was really hard to find a company that we could trust here in Korea. Then you gave us a chance.”

“That’s nothing compared to how much you’ve helped us back then, unnie,” Seoyeon reciprocates her gratitude. “All of you have made ModHaus’ success possible.”

She puts her hand on her right shoulder. “I know this must be a lot of pressure, with all these responsibilities for you to carry, but I believe that Mister Han would be proud of you… With how far you’ve come. This company couldn’t have asked for a better CEO.”

= = =

Back in the kitchen, Daewon stands alone after his heavy lifting from earlier.

“Hey, new guy!” a soup chef, or potager, calls him from his station. “Daewon-nim, right?”

“Yes, I am, Seongsu-nim,” he politely answers. “Do you need any assistance, Chef?”

Just from his fingers, Seongsu looks fidgety. His tummy has been slowly boiling in the past hour, much like the soup he’s been cooking. It won’t be a pleasing sight for anyone. Thankfully, only Daewon seems to notice the potager’s weird and questionable behavior.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, I do! I need it now!” Even from his voice, shaking can be felt, as his head must have been pouring sweat for some time. As if he’s holding in something for a while now. “You mind if you’d look over the soup for a bit? I just, I gotta go out for a bit…”

“Oh, okay…” Out of respect, the server has no other words but compliance. “Yes, Sir.”

“Oh, thank God!” Seongsu immediately takes off his apron and hands it onto the server. “This can’t wait. I gotta go—”

Daewon doesn’t bother asking him as the cook rushes through the kitchen’s back door. He is left in front of the boiling pot with no instructions. Time is running as is his fellow servers rushing in and out of the kitchen to serve any additional request from the guests in the lobby. With a familiar broth, the soup looks like it's almost complete. As he stares at the pot, Daewon gulps and puts on his colleague’s apron, staring at the cooking broth.

“Hey, Daewon-ssi,” a fellow server approaches his station. Thanks to the name tag on his shirt’s pocket, Daewon recognizes the person as Kim Chulwoo—another newbie like him. “Are the head’s special soup ready?”

Oddly enough, Chulwoo doesn’t even question why he’s there. “Ummm… I don't think—”

“Will ten minutes be enough?” he interjects a negotiation.

Dispirited by the pressure of the situation, Daewon can only mutter, “Well…”

“Okay!” he immediately answers, signing “okay” with his finger. “I’ll be back by then.”

Daewon begins his new work. Even if it’s not meant to be his station to begin with.

= = =

In the Central Ballroom, most guests have empty plates and bowls, occupied by their conversations about the countless cuisines they’ve just engorged in for the past hour.

“Oh my God. I can’t believe how good the food was,” Yamada shares with the rest of the guests with delight. “Compliments to the chef!”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Lahn adds. “They managed to nail the spring rolls. I don’t know if it’s the MSG or something but it’s just like gỏi cuốn back home! My family would love to have your recipe.”

“Our Kitchen has a minimum MSG policy,” Seoyeon bluntly declares. “So our recipe should definitely be more authentic than a lot of Vietnamese restaurants in Seoul.”

“Really?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure,” the CEO admits, yet she still embodies her confidence. “But whatever ingredients we use, our Kitchen never disappoints in making them authentic as they are, especially tonight. But since our main courses are almost finished—they may be less busy now, would you like to meet our chefs and ask them your questions?”

“Considering that our contracts have been settled, it would be our honor to meet them, Seoyeon-nim!” Chungho answers for the rest of the head guests, who nodded with him.

After a few minutes of relaying the message through text, two figures enter the Central Ballroom doors, akin to a dramatic entrance. Having taken off their aprons, Junghoon and Yubin confidently walk toward the table of the heads in their blue coats.

“Everyone, this is our head chef, Geum Junghoon, and our sous chef, Gong Yubin. For the past two years, they have been the two of our greatest cooks here in ModHaus”

“It’s such an honor to meet you two,” Chungho humbly shakes both of their hands.

“The way you placed the sushi and sashimi platter,” praises Natsumi. “It’s exquisite! You even decorated them so beautifully. I couldn’t decide on whether I should’ve kept staring at them or I should have eaten them all by myself.”

“It feels like I just traveled across several countries on this table,” Sullin imaginatively describes her experience to them. “Knowing how our fellow guests are also speaking highly of their native foods, I can’t help but commend your five-star cooking.”

“Oh, that means so much from you, Princess,” Yubin slightly bows out with her palms touching together in gratitude, like a prayer, which Junghoon follows at the same time. With her nod, Sullin chuckles and returns her wai as a form of appreciation to the chefs. “And we thank all of you for your wonderful words about our dishes.”

“But you look kind of familiar,” Lahn looks at the two with his squinting eyes. “Hmm… Actually both of you do.”

“We both partook in last year’s event,” Junghoon tries to help the guest remember. “If that’s ringing you any bells.”

“Yeah, that’s not it,” he shakes his head. “I don't remember meeting any good-looking chefs last year.”

“I don’t think your fiance will be happy to hear that if he was here, Mister Nguyen,” Seoyeon teases him.

“Or our kitchen managers,” Junghoon quips, making the other guests laugh.

“Are you saying neither of them are good-looking, Seoyeon-ssi?” Lahn defends himself. “I’m just saying that these two fine young chefs have a lot of potential to do more stuff outside the kitchens, you know? Have you ever considered getting them publicists or agents? They should get out there more often.”

“I second that!” adds Sullin. “That would help your own brand grow if you promote your Kitchen. Maybe Miss Zhou can even recommend some tips to you! Don’t you agree?”

Felicia seemed like she was staring at both chefs for a while. Either she’s mesmerized or perplexed at the sight of the two. Or both. “Of course, it would be my pleasure.”

Yubin adds insight to their suggestions. “Funny you should mention that…”

From outside the room, Daewon peeks through the door’s windows with his fingers crossed that nothing goes wrong. The table where his superiors are standing seems exuberant and joyous with their talks with the two star chefs.

“As much as I hate to interrupt,” an elderly guest taps the head chef beside him. “I would like to ask, where’s the special soup? I believe it has not yet been brought to my table.”

“Soup?” Junghoon wonders. “Are you perhaps referring to the clam chowder we served earlier? We still have a few more in the kitchen, but we can cook you up some more.”

“No,” the elder’s voice starts to sound more demanding. “ I didn’t like that thick soup. I asked the servers if the chefs could cook a soup that is more runny after our meal. That always helps with my digestion and I really need it...”

“Digestion?” Doctor Tan questions the older guest. “Perhaps you have medication?”

“Yes, I do,” he responds. “But it has been our tradition to have soup at the end of every meal. I assume you don’t have any problems with that.”

“I very much respect traditions, Mister Park,” the doctor elaborates his opinion. “But we advise patients to take their meds at least thirty minutes to an hour after they have a full stomach.”

“Doctor Tan has a point,” Seoyeon agrees. “Perhaps the soup can wait, Direct—”

“No, it can’t,” the old guest maintains his stubbornness, slowly raising his voice to the respectful doctor. “I’m not your patient. I can’t and won’t drink my medicine until I’ve had my soup. Now, where is it?”

“It’s okay, Doctor Tan,” Junghoon deescalates the “conversation” between the guests. “Mister Park, I’ll have the station cook in the kitchen follow it up right now.”

“I’ll handle it, Chef,” Yubin interjects, bowing to the guests before taking a walk towards the door, enclosing her right fist in a manner as if she's squeezing an invisible stress ball.

But just as when they need it the most, two servers arrive at the room. They surprise the guests with their presence while pushing a server trolley containing bowls and a pitcher of what seems to contain the anticipated after-meal soup of the night. “We apologize to everyone! Apologies, Mister Park, but we have your miso soup right here.”

“Finally!” exclaims the elder guest at the sight. “I can’t believe it’s taken you this long.”

“What were you doing?” Yubin whispers to the servers. “How long did they cook this?”

“The chef had an emergency,” the female server answers her with a hint of nervousness. “A server took over his shift and we didn’t know—”

“What?” Yubin’s eyes widen at the news, yet they maintain their sharpness. “Who?”

The server gulps at her superior. But just as she can answer the chef and while Junghoon helps with serving the rest of guests with their own bowls, they witness the reaction from the very guest who takes the first sip of soup. The one who requested it.

“What is this?” The elder is taken aback by the taste of the miso soup, shocking the chefs and confusing the rest of the guests. “Can I get the chef who cooked this soup? This is…”

“Is there any problem?” Junghoon asks the question his crew is too nervous to ask. They can only keep their fingers crossed—as the dead air only leaves them paralyzed in fright.

= = =

Minutes later, both chefs now returned to the kitchen. Yubin picks up the knife on the counter in front of her and throws its razor sharp blade straight into the cutting board. Her subordinates freeze and shudder at her wrath—which she fires straight at Daewon.

“You had one job, new guy! Just the one. It wasn’t hard, but you just had to be late when a major shareholder and former board member had requested his order for an hour!”

Despite knowing how he got there, Daewon blames himself, enduring the sous chef’s tiger-like roar at him while he looks down while her eyes are melting through his soul. Even if he tells the whole truth to her, it’s too late. He’s already taking in bullets to his heart and mind.

“Joesonghamnida! It won’t happen again,” Daewon repeatedly bows to the sous chef.

“Yubin-ah, this is his first day on the job,” Hyerin reprimands her. “Cut him some slack!”

“Consider himself lucky Mister Park didn’t snap like he used to,” Yubin hisses.

“That’s enough, Yubin-nim!” Junghoon silences the room with his raised voice while he’s pinching the bridge of his nose. “Not Mister Park, nor any of the guests have complained. Yes, I know it wasn’t one-to-one with our standard recipe, they liked the soup with how it turned out. They said it was familiar... Authentic even. He was just surprised.”

“Joesonghamnida, Chef,” Daewon lowers his bow to them. “I thought I could handle the situation myself, but I didn’t tell any of you.”

Hyerin turns her head to the root of the issue, standing at the corner of the kitchen. “C’mon now, Seongsu-ssi. Why the hell did you leave him to cook your dish?

“Joesonghamnida, Yubin-nim. Joesonghamnida, Chef,” Seongsu bows at them quickly, mirroring Daewon’s actions. “I had a rough lunch earlier and it just suddenly happened. I didn’t know who else I could hand over—”

“Save it,” Yubin sighs, simmering down from her misplaced outburst. “It’s over. I’m not having any of this. The event’s over… I’ll meet all of you on Monday.”

Heading to the locker room, a quiet Yubin is the first chef to leave the kitchen to pack up.

“Make sure you drink your medicine, Seongsu-ssi,” Junghoon reminds his subordinate with a few taps on his shoulder. “But next time, tell some of the chefs to look over your station, not a server. Arasseo?”

“Ne. I will, Chef.” Seongsu bows. “Thank you for understanding, Sir. Joesonghamnida.”

“Daewon-ssi, we should talk for a moment,” Junghoon calls him just as he calls out to his left-hand woman, considering that his right-hand is no longer there. “Hyerin-ssi…”

Together with Hyerin, she and Junghoon had a word with the young server. A dispirited Daewon follows them, unable to think of any other way of how this night ends for him.

= = =

After about ten minutes, Junghoon exits the kitchen when hears an “excuse me” from the hallway. He turns around to see a familiar face slowly approach him. It's one of the eight heads who sat on the same table with Seoyeon. Fashion Imperium’s associate director— Felicia Zhou. He notices that she’s fixed herself, despite her enticing red dress standing out from earlier. Her hair is now tied and she’s holding a jacket around her left arm.

“I want to apologize for how Mister Kim reacted earlier,” she mutters. “I was aware of his behavior last year, and your crew must’ve been distressed if the same thing happened again. I hope that no one’s getting fired or anything for that matter.”

“There’s no need to apologize, Miss Zhou,” he eases her worry. “You didn’t do anything disrespectful, and my employees are doing much better now, especially compared to last year. From experience, Mister Kim still must’ve been constipated tonight that he was still craving that small bowl of miso soup.”

“That’s fair, because that miso soup was a great addition too,” she laughs at his remark. “You and your crew did a great job with the food.”

“I'm honored that an international celebrity enjoyed what we've cooked for all of you. It’s not rare for us to serve well-known guests, but it seems to be the first time everyone’s full from finishing their meals.”

“I might as well start dining in your restaurant if you keep that up,” she quips.

Both of them chuckle. Their eyes remain leveling at each other and to an extent, their souls. However, it feels as if there’s an invisible barrier that she’s trying to get through while she stares at him. She can't read anything from the man’s polite face. But she's a determined woman, so she holds in her hesitations…

“Geum Junghoon-ssi…” she says his name softly.

“Yes, Miss Zhou?” He seems unfazed when she calls him by his full name, something that only discourages her subtle intention. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Not really,” she doesn’t know what else to say, having lost hope about her assumption. “But I just gotta ask. Do you, umm… Remember me?”

It’s not just curiosity that fuels her to ask more questions to this man. This supposed “stranger.” For her, it’s more of a necessity that she hears him. Something is clinging inside her—clenching into her heart—one that won’t let go. Not until he answers her.

“Perhaps?” The chef still doesn’t know what she means. “Since Mister Nguyen also asked us a similar question earlier, have you attended last year’s gala, by any chance?”

“No, umm, but our previous president did. It’s my first time being invited to this event as an associate director of the company.”

“Well... I believe you may have mistaken me for someone else, since I was not the head chef at the time, but thank you so much for your compliment. My staff and I have been preparing the recipes for a week or two, so those words do mean a lot from someone in your position and reputation.”

Their uneasy atmosphere is drowned by the cacophony of noises from the kitchen. Junghoon hears the clattering plates and pans to rattling utensils being sorted out.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to head back to the kitchen and clean up.”

She lost her chance. “O–of course,” she stammers. “It was nice meeting you… Chef.”

Junghoon runs out of the lobby after a respectful bow in front of her. Downcast and confused, Felicia can only bow to him in response. She looks at him from afar. Their distance drifts with every second until he returns to the Kitchen… Not another word. Just a puddle of sorrow rising up and flooding into her heart.

= = =

Outside the hotel lobby, Daewon is back to his casual attire, a checkered polo shirt.

The driver rolls up their window. “Daewon-ssi,” Hyerin calls him. “Do you want a ride?

“Oh, no, no, no!” With his hands, he politely waves away her request. “You don’t have to, Hyerin-nim. I don’t live that far from here.”

“Oh really?” She wonders how far, but she intends to establish boundaries with him. “Well, okay... Stay safe. (waves) Na meonjeo galge!”

Hyerin drives off into the road. Daewon receives a text on his phone, prompting him to pull it out of his pocket. The bright screen lightens up his face with a soft smile. After a fifteen-minute walk to his neighborhood of Chuseon, Daewon meets up with his close friends in front of a nearby convenience store.

At a table, Ji Suhyeon and Lee Kyubok welcome him with celebratory midnight drinks. Suhyeon opens her first can of beer and drinks down her first sip for the night. Kyubok watches his friend with a laugh, before taking a sip himself.

“Yah! That must’ve been so hard for you, Daewon-ah. I wish I had told Kotone when it happened, but darn it! I had to extend my shift for the entire morning and afternoon, I couldn’t even use my phone to call her.”

“I’m fine, Suhyeon-noona,” Daewon calms her down. “It was sudden when it happened… And besides, Kotone-noona was busy interacting with the guests, so we couldn’t talk to each other the whole night, anyway.”

“Still,” Suhyeon groans. “She was the one who recommended you to this job to begin with. The least she could’ve done was tell you a little more details about what you were in for.”

Kyubok pats him on the back. “It’ll be better, Daewon-ah! Almost everyone messes up on their first day or week or month. It’s no big deal.”

Daewon sighs. “Ahh… So much for the ‘home of all possibilities.’ I didn’t even know that getting scolded on your first shift was possible when you tried doing the right thing.”

“Kyubok-ah is right, though,” Suhyeon points out. “It’s only your first day there. I’m sure they’ll understand. At least most of your heads do. Who knows if you’ll get a promotion after finishing that chef’s soup under pressure!”

“I’m just an ant working for those giants,” Daewon scratches his head. “It feels weird working there just tonight. I’m not even sure if it’s worth staying there.”

“I get how you feel. But ModHaus is like, the least corrupt company in Seoul,” she assumes. “At least that we know of. I believe that your crew will take care of you the longer you’re there. Just take it from Kyubok-ah and Kotone-chan.”

“I hope so,” Daewon feels like Suhyeon had just taken away most of his worries from him. “How long have you been working there, Kyubok-hyung?”

“About half a year,” he answers. “But you get what I mean, right? They have some nice and approachable staff. I’m sure the rest of the Kitchen’s no different.”

“Daewon-ah, come on now,” Suhyeon pats him on the back. “You did well tonight, okay? Don’t let some old, snobby, senile shareholder let you down because he got impatient for some digestion soup!”

“But Daewon-ah made that soup for the most part,” Kyubok points out to her. “That’s why he almost got an earful from that shareholder, no thanks to the actual chef who was supposed to be making it.”

“Oh… And I’m sure it tastes good. Probably even better than what that chef would have made!” she confidently remarks. “But my point is, I bet that both ModHaus President Yoon Seoyeon and Head Chef Geum Junghoon did their job to defend you through hell and back.”

“Chef Junghoon and Chef Hyerin-nim did speak for me during that moment, I guess,” Daewon recalls the scene from earlier. “But I don’t know much about President-nim.”

“You should start calling him hyung eventually, don’t you think?” she suggests.

“Hmm, maja!” Kyubok nods. “He was the first to consider Kotone’s recommendation of you, so I don’t see why you can’t be more informal with him one day.”

“Most of the staff were nice and considerate anyway, so I don’t think that’s necessary,” he tells them with a humble tone just before his memory catches up to him, making his eyes light up. “Well, maybe except for that one chef. His second-in-command. The sous chef.”

“Wait, I thought that Chef Hyerin was the second-in-command?” Kyubok gets confused by his statement. “She’s not the sous chef?”

“I thought she was,” Daewon clarifies. “But she’s only a chef de partie, and she was close with the head chef, so I assumed that she’s the sous chef.”

Suhyeon is shocked as well. “Omo, omo, omo. You already have a workplace rival? On your first night on the job? Wahhh, daebak… That must be some record!”

“How the hell did Yook Daewon, the kindest fellow in town, have a coworker who hates him? Do you want us to retaliate against him?” Kyubok adds. “If you want, Tone-chan and I can set up a prank at the cafeteria the next time we see that rude-ass douche.”

“Whatever that is,” a fourth voice answers him, walking up to their table. “I don’t wanna get involved in any more pranks or goofs, okay?”

“And speak of the devil!” Suhyeon calls Kotone out as the latter sits on the vacant chair. “Another late shift, eh? Daewon told me you’ve socialized with a lot of guests tonight. How’d that go?”

“Is someone getting a promotion soon?” Kyubok hypes up, though Kotone isn’t amused. “I’m surprised you even made it to the gala while our team was stuck with paperwork.”

“I don’t even wanna talk about it! And it’s not like my job was any easier up there,” she retorts. “But since we’re talking about work… Daewon, I can talk to her instead. Maybe she can directly apologize to you in your next meeting with Junghoon.”

“I appreciate the intentions, noona,” Daewon chuckles. “But you don’t have to… She might’ve just had a bad memory from Mister Park or something. Besides, I don’t wanna get fired the moment I get back by bringing it up again.”

“Oooooh…” Kyubok is intrigued by the new detail. “So, the sous chef is a woman then.”

Suhyeon grunts at him. “Why did you just react like that?”

A jolt of fear strikes not just Kyubok, but even the other two. “Like what?”

“Like that makes it okay if a woman just assaulted an employee…”

“Noona, I wasn’t assaulted,” Daewon reassures her again. “She just gave me an earful.”

“To a new employee?” she snaps. “What are you guys in, Culinary Class Wars? Hell’s Kitchen? That's unwarranted behavior from a superior if I have ever heard one.”

“Yeah!” Kyubok chimes in the hate train. “That doesn’t make sense. Who does that woman think she is?” He drinks up his can.

“A three-time award-winning chef,” Kotone nonchalantly brings up to them.

Kyubok spills the beer from his mouth like a tight faucet. “What the fuck?”

But Suhyeon remains unimpressed. “So is Geum Junghoon! But has he ever treated his own kitchen staff like shit? I knew Gong Yubin in college, too, you know? That wasn’t like her then!”

“Noona, are you alright?” Daewon senses it. She’s channeling her resentment elsewhere.

Suhyeon sighs in her own defeat. “Yeah… I mean, I don’t know. To be honest... I guess I just wanted a little break from home for just a night. You rarely get that around while raising a little bumpkin on your own.”

“How is Dongwon?” Daewon asks out of concern. “Did you find a sitter for her tonight?”

“Seoah’s taking care of her,” Suhyeon reveals. “She’s practically his aunt at this point.”

“You sure she’s okay with babysitting him all day?” Kyubok wonders. “She’s a sophomore in college now, isn’t she? That kid would probably have a lot on her plate by next year.”

“That’s what I said!” Suhyeon echoes with her slightly raised voice. “But she’s the one who insisted. She said it’s her excuse to see her ‘nephew.’ Yet, then again, if you think about it, she’s doing a much better job taking care of my own child than I am.” She puts her palm on her face and groans. “God, I’m a horrible parent, am I?”

“Yah… Don’t be like that to yourself,” Kotone comes to her defense, holding Suhyeon’s wrist and slowly pulling them down away from her face to assure her. “You��re doing your best as a mother, Suhyeon-ah!”

“Yeah,” Kyubok chimes in. “Especially if you have a kid to look after, I think that having a little me time ain’t that bad. Heck—If being here with us still makes you feel bad, I’m also willing to babysit Dongwon too!”

“So am I, noona!” Daewon joins them with enthusiasm. “I’ll find time outside my shifts. Don’t hesitate to ask me.”

“T--thanks, yeo--reobun,” she stutters. “I don’t know what I can do without you guys.”

“You should know we’re always here for you, Ji Suhyeon,” Kotone leans in for a hug. “Like you’re here, with us.”

Suhyeon can't help but be touched by Kotone’s remarks and the reassuring promises of her friends, she’s holding a few tears from pouring down her eyes. Despite living as a strong and caring single mother for the past three years, she didn’t always feel like she’s alone because of their presence and support.

“Just don’t drink too much!” Kyubok takes her empty can just before she can take a sip. “You’ve had enough cans for the night.”

“Oppa!” she tries to reach for the empty can, but it’s already on Kyubok's side of the table. “That’s not fair! That was only my fourth can.”

“Let Daewon drink some of the beers, too. He’s had a rough first night,” he snaps back.

Getting another empty beer can beside her, Suhyeon’s close friends witness the cylindrical aluminum container slowly get folded and crunched up by her palm with ease while her eyes remain its, instinctively evoking a gulp from Kyubok and a nervous laughter from Daewon. Kotone shakes her head while letting out a chuckle.

“I’m okay, hyung,” Daewon politely declines the offer, holding his cold and condensed unopened can. “I don't feel like drinking tonight. Here, Tone-noona, you can take mine.”

“Thanks, Daewon-ie,” Kotone takes the beer can from him. “Kyubok-oppa’s right on this one. I don't know if you’d like to have a hangover and beer breath in the morning while looking after Dongwon, but I don’t think this habit will set a good example for him.”

“Yeah,” Suhyeon sighs. Listening to Kotone's observation, she quickly cups her own hands and breathes into them to warm and sober up.

“You guys are right. What am I thinking? I should clean up in a bit. You guys better get home soon!”

“Ne, eomma!” Tone playfully answers her, igniting laughter from Daewon and Kyubok.

= = =

The following week has come since Saturday’s gala event. As early as eight to nine in the morning, employees run the office with their gossip, murmurs, and speculations about how the night had turned out. Considering how not everyone got the chance to attend such a grand event, most of the workers can only let their own imaginations run wild. Perhaps exaggerate an incident or interaction. Even if a certain rumor doesn’t have a grain of truth and fact that it ever happened, its “entertainment factor” is enough for them to talk about something and keep themselves motivated for the rest of the day.

“I heard there’s some spicy biz that night!” Miyu rushes to her deskmates in the coffee station. “Did any of y’all hear from the advertising team? Some of ‘em were really wild.”

“I did hear that some guests did it,” Suhyeon adds. “But there were some other things they managed to keep under wraps. You got any guesses on what it could’ve been?”

“Well, I don’t know if this is a big tea,” Chaeyeon whispers to them. “But Joonie-sunbae said that some server from the kitchen almost pissed off one of the board members—”

“Come on, Chaeyeon-ssi, you guys actually believe the advertising department?” Kotone interjects the talk between her colleagues, skeptical at whatever they were discussing. “I mean… If there was any tea that would’ve been spilled at the gala… I would’ve known.”

“Tone-yah!” Chaeyeon and the rest of her buddies get surprised. “Are you sure nothing scandalous happened at the event? You lucky dog… What are you not telling us?”

“At this point, I couldn’t care less whether their rumors are true or not, Tone-ssi,” Suhyeon whines. “Dang! I just wanna hear something extraordinary that might have happened last Saturday. A good office drama will keep us going for the rest of the year.”

“Believe whatever you want girls,” she warns them with a chuckle. “But save some of your tea for later. It’s time for lunch.”

“Tone-ssi… You’re really not telling us anything?” Miyu sounds like she’s pleading.

“Fine! I’ll tell you after lunch.” Kotone gives in to their desperation. “I don’t know too much gossip, but I know some projects that’ll definitely get you excited for the year.”

“Deal!” Suhyeon shakes her hand out of the blue.

Considering that not everyone at the company eats there during every lunch, dining at the ModHaus Cafeteria was not as grand or fancy as its events, but it is just as, if not more hospitable and relaxing to eat there, thanks to their Kitchen’s service and passion to cook up and serve excellent food. Open from Monday to Friday (sometimes Saturday), most of the residents and workers take their time dining while talking about how crappy or superb their day is so far. On some days, friends don’t even have time to eat together.

In the ModHaus Cafeteria, only twelve members of the staff are working at lunchtime.

“I hope it’s not a hassle for you to be working at this hour, Daewon-ssi,” Hyerin tells him. “I know this may be a sudden change in your schedule.”

“It’s okay, Chef,” the newcomer lightens up. “You and Head Chef Geum are the ones who gave me this offer. And it’s one that I can’t say no to.”

“You probably could have if you didn’t want it…” she points out.

“That’s true, Chef,” he nods. “Anyone else could’ve taken the promotion.”

“No. You deserve that promotion as much as anyone else, okay? You’ve proven that you can work under pressure” she defends him from his own misgivings. “Now, do you want us to regret making you an apprentice? Or do you want to prove yourself by learning?”

“I wanna learn, Chef!” He bows to her with enthusiasm, confirming his new position.

It is Tuesday afternoon when the Kitchen’s Head Chef Junghoon takes off his toque and the rest of his uniform, taking a break after cooking during the morning shift, leaving his most trusted crew to run it throughout the afternoon shift. Unfortunately, his usual hour of peace and relaxation becomes a state of confusion and discomfort the moment he sees the last face he expects to meet in this building.

The same woman who approached him outside the Grand Hotel’s kitchen. He can see her talking to her assistant. “I can take it from here, Yoojin. Use this company card to treat the rest of the teammates. Just like yesterday, arachi? Have fun!”

The latter bows to her and walks away from the cafeteria, while the woman follows him as she waves at him, like any other coworker who hasn’t seen their colleague in a while.

“Good afternoon, Miss Zhou,” he bows to her while holding his meal-filled tray. He tries to go on with his usual routine—but he feels the persistence of the woman from his past. Wearing glasses while in a business suit, she looks more or less distinguishable from her more revealing and standout attire since their last encounter, although she still manages to stand out on this one.

“I didn’t expect to meet you here, Chef Geum,” she follows him after falling in line and receiving her own tray of meals from the cafeteria line, only a minute after the chef got his. One of the perks of being beautiful, one would guess. Despite their distant meeting last week, her casualness is restored, showing her willingness to catch up with the man. “I really thought you’d be running a restaurant of your own, but now that I think about it, it makes more sense that you are the head of this cafeteria.”

He maintains his silence, while she keeps walking behind him. “Are you not with your team and colleagues, Miss Zhou? I just saw one of yours walk away just now.”

“I wanted to be more acquainted with this place myself,” she answers. “My team wanted to treat me to lunch, but I gave them my card instead so they could eat somewhere fancy outside... It's the least I can do on their first day joining my team.”

“Why didn't you go with them?” “Surely, a woman of your position would be more comfortable dining at a luxurious restaurant.”

“Is there anything more luxurious than The Kitchen who served us the most diverse and delicious cuisine at the gala?” she flatters, though the chef himself is not too amused. “If I’m gonna start working with ModHaus in person, I’d rather spend more time and get used here, my new home.”

“Well…” Junghoon reaches a vacant table. “Make yourself at home, Miss Zhou.”

She’s still in disbelief, yet deep inside, she feels that his behavior is nor unwarranted.

“Come on. Don’t you wanna talk about anything?” the woman becomes blunt with him, though she keeps her tone amiable. To his ears, however, her persistence is now starting to break through his clueless facade and his wall of politeness. “Do you really not wanna catch up, Mister Geum? It's been years since we’ve—”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Xinyu-ssi,” he finally snaps back, even with his low voice. Despite this sudden temper, he puts his tray on the table with no noise for others to hear.

Junghoon immediately realizes what he’s said to her. Xinyu’s eyes widened at the sound of her name. Not Felicia—but her native name. Aish… He thinks to himself with chagrin.

She freezes in shock and awe at his sudden response, even struggling to breath for a second until she mutters her next words. “So you do remember me… Junghoon-ah.”

In the man’s thoughts, he thinks revealing the truth to her would be enough to push her away and walk out of the cafeteria. Even though his heart is feeling the opposite, he just wanted his own sorrow to end. As selfish as his feelings may be, he does not know what else to do in dealing with this situation someone like him would not even imagine. Who knew she’d actually be back? She’s not the same person you knew.

“You were my sunbae in college,” he tells her bluntly. “How could I not remember you?”

“But that night,” she confronts him. “It was like you pretended that we were strangers.”

“We are strangers,” he keeps her pushing away. “Aren’t we, Zhou Xinyu-nim?”

Her heart keeps sinking, but she musters up to go on until she finds the remnants of the same man she used to know. “We used to know each other.”

“We did,” he maintains his coldness. “But I don't think that matters to you now, Felicia.”

She looks down as guilt clenches her heart. I’m guessing he remembers me… Everything about me. But deep inside, Xinyu wants to answer his hurtful remarks. However, just as she would’ve muttered another word, the harrowing silence between them was abruptly broken thanks to someone else’s interference. Another friend who somehow recognized her from back in the day. One who made her reminisce about the better days of the past, considering that the other didn’t when he saw her face once again.

“Zhou Xinyu-nim? Is that really you?” Out of nowhere, Kotone asks her with her mouth agape. Junghoon takes a seat on the corner of the table by himself, hoping to avoid any attention from what’s about to happen.

As she turns to see another familiar face, Xinyu’s reactions are beyond her control. “Omo… Kamimoto Kotone-chan?”

The two squeal as they unleash their joy and excitement. Junghoon cannot help but hide a snicker from the side of his seat. In this moment, he puts his strong emotions aside for the reunion that is unfolding before his eyes.

He's almost forgotten that he's not the only person who’s known Xinyu here from a personal level. Kotone looks at him, but he appears to be focused on taking sips of his soup. Surprisingly, her attire makes her look like anyone else. Everyone seems to be falling for her Clark Kent or Kara Danvers effect. For most workers, Xinyu is just a new employee who’s gonna bring nothing but annoyance, eye candy, or endless curiosities to them—at least in the meantime. Attention from everyone is the last thing she needs right now, so they join the head chef’s table to blend in the herds of corporate life.

“What are you doing here?” Continuing her conversation with the older woman, Kotone lowers her voice just as she takes a seat right beside Junghoon. “I thought you only went here for the gala event?”

Xinyu follows her move, taking the seat in front of Junghoon, as they continue talking. “I’m here to oversee the partnership between my company’s team and ModHaus.”

Kotone steals a glance at Junghoon, quietly taking a bite of a piece of tonkatsu and a spoonful of rice. My God, I can’t believe that things are still rough between these two. After six flipping years? She wonders, before looking at Xinyu once more with a bright smile as their conversation continues after joining the vacant seat on Junghoon’s table.

“Oooh…” Despite her position in ModHaus, Kotone’s formalities begin to drop around Xinyu, embodying the comfort and familiarity of their past as college friends. “How long will you be staying here then?

“Well, I don't know yet,” she humbly admits. “It depends on how our meetings will go... The heads preferred online meetings, but I proposed we also hold face-to-face meetings as well, so maybe I’ll stay here a little longer so I can check the progress of our project in person.” Xinyu takes a quick glance at Junghoon. He’s already halfway through his meal.

“I can’t believe the CEO of China’s top fashion brand is in our cafeteria!” Tone squeals.

“Please. I’m only the Associate Director of the Emporium,” she humbly corrects her. “That’s not even close to the Vice President... And come on, just call me unnie.”

Junghoon looks out to the rest of the cafeteria, noticing some employees trying to take out their phones and aiming their cameras. Thankfully, guards are there to moderate.

“Well… You never know, unnie,” Kotone embraces their renewed casualness. “This is a huge partnership between two of the greatest companies in Asia! If you keep it up, this may just get you promoted by the end of the year, don't you think?”

Xinyu chuckles. “That’s not really what’s on my mind, but we’ll see… For now, I’m just helping out ModHaus with designing their next installment of clothing among other projects… And get in touch with some of our college buddies if I have time, of course.”

“Sure, you’ll have time!” Kotone hypes up her plans, despite its uncertainties. “And if you’re ever interested in taking a ‘trip down memory lane’ at our university, that can certainly be arranged. I know a few folks working there.”

“That would be great! I haven’t been at SSU in a long while… Wah, I wonder how much has changed here.”

“Oh, you have no idea, unnie. Just you wait.” She looks at Junghoon beside her with a raised eyebrow. “Yah! How about you, Chef Junghoon? You think you have the time?”

Junghoon is only chewing his food until the woman repeatedly taps his shoulder. “Huh…” He swallows and turns to her. “What?”

“Do you wanna tag along with us?” Kotone recalls. “We’re doing a tour of our university.”

“What for?” He steals a glance at Xinyu. She’s looking down at her meal, taking a bite of her salad. She doesn’t know how to face him either, especially not after he acted to her. Junghoon doesn’t know how to feel either. Kotone, on the other hand, is also far from amused by his blasé response to her nostalgic suggestions.

“What do you mean what for? she scoffs at his question. “For old times sake!”

“Who else will be there then?” He challenges her plan.

“Anyone else who we’ve met in college, who else?” she retorts.

“Are you sure this isn’t just one of your half-baked plans that you’re just coming up with now just to prove a point?”

Xinyu can’t help but laugh at Junghoon’s banter, but she prolongs her reaction to make herself look like she’s coughing instead. Kotone smirks at the two right after. Well, well, well… She thinks about them. Who knew? Junghoon shakes his head, but he still smiles.

“It will happen!” she insists to him, pointing a finger to both of them. “Just you wait... And I’m gonna have a good look on your faces once you’re back on campus.”

= = =

No matter how many times he avoided her, it seems that there's always a time and place where the two meet eyes and cross each other's paths. They’re now working in the same building after all. Hours become days. Days turn into weeks. He tolerates her countless persistence through the veil of her elegance and courteousness towards all the workers she passes by across the building, while she endures his attempts at often cutting their interactions short under the guise of the head chef’s busy mundane cafeteria schedule.

Regardless of their movements, the cats are out of the bag between these two. A former actress-and-model-turned-fashion-designer and a respected corporate head chef—only themselves and a few people are aware of their personal history. This game of hide and seek isn’t gonna end anytime soon.

= = =

February. It’s way past midnight on a Friday. The head chef had finished organizing and locking the kitchen by himself and is now making his way outside the ground floor of the parking lot to exit the building, considering the main entrance is closed during this hour.

A car stops beside him. He tries to look through the driver’s window out of curiosity, but it’s too dark to recognize anyone from outside. The driver rolls out their window to face Junghoon, revealing to be none other than Xinyu herself. “Where’s your ride?”

“I don't have any,” he bluntly tells her.

His answer confuses her. “What do you mean you don’t have–?” To the point that trying to make sense of it irritates her. A high-paying chef doesn’t own or drive a car? “Wait. Is this one of your excuses to avoid me again?”

“No, I’ve never had a car,” he tries to answer both her questions. “And I’m not avoiding you… I, umm, usually take a walk to the bus stop, if that’s what you’re wondering about.”

“The bus stop?” she scoffs in disbelief. “At this hour?”

“Yeah..? I don’t own a car,” he tells her, hoping it will throw her off and she’ll leave him.

Xinyu doesn’t know if she feels annoyed or dejected about his distance towards her. How he keeps pushing her away now. It didn’t matter because she feels both. In her heart and mind, the woman feels compelled to take initiative in this weird dynamic between them. It’s the least I can do, she thinks to herself. She sighs before looking back at him.

“Get in the car,” she tells him with a straight face.

That’s a response he doesn’t expect to hear from her. “Excuse me?”

“I’ll take you to your apartment…” she shakes her head. “I–I mean drive you there.”

“Thank you for your offer, Zhou Xinyu-nim, but I can still catch the bus.”

“Please don’t give me that honorifics crap, Junghoon-ssi. I’m not here to kidnap you… And besides, it’s already late. Do you really think you can still get a ride out there?” She looks down, hiding her sorrow towards him. “And besides, you don’t have to talk to me.”

Junghoon takes another look at the distance, down the streets. The stop had little to no bystanders. He takes a quick glance at his holographic wristwatch. It’s already 1:44 AM. She has a point. What am I thinking? Junghoon walks up to Xinyu’s car, to which she clicks a button, opening the door to the front passenger seat. But his hand reaches the door beside it, on the back seat. Awkwardness fills the air between the two, but Xinyu rolls her eyes and quickly opens the back seat door. Junghoon immediately opens it.

“Thanks,” is the least he could say to her.

“Don’t mention it.”

Driving outside the ModHaus Parking Lot, she can’t help but steal glances at the back seat through the rear view mirror. He’s looking outside the window. Even in the comfort of his seat, his posture is straight. A bit too straight. She feels the hint of discomfort from him, but his mostly blank somber face and silence tries to hide it.

“Where to?” she asks.

“It ain’t too far from here,” he explains to her. “But I can tell the address to the GPS, if that's okay with you.”

Xinyu clicks on the screen in front of her, activating its built-in digital assistant. He tells AI his address and within seconds, the route to the location pops up. She takes a look at the screen with a nod before easily shifting her gears and stepping on the pedal for this fifteen-minute ride.

He got a new place. Such thoughts begin to pop up in her mind. I mean, of course, he would. This shouldn’t be that big of a deal. She can’t help but be curious. Minutes pass, they leave the ModHaus Headquarters. The woman tries to get her mind and eyes off her passenger on the backseat by looking outside the window as she drives across Seoul. Certain memories resurface to her. Ones that put a still smile on her face. Simpler times.

The scenery makes her contemplate. “After all these years, Seoul still looks beautiful.”

“Aside from the bullet trains, brighter and more colorful neon lights, and noisier businesses on the streets, nothing much has changed if you look from a distance.”

“I know I can’t say the same about everything, but…” she smiles at the sight of Seoul. “I’m glad some things stayed, well, the same.”

“I guess some things did,” he concurs, taking another glance at her.

She sets her wheel to semi-autopilot, before taking a deep breath. “Can we talk..?”

“We’re talking right now,” he tells her.

“No, I mean talk about something else,” she continues. “Please…”

Junghoon himself sighs. There’s no energy of anger or resentment left for him, perhaps because that’s not how he mostly feels about Xinyu. Deep down, he feels tired. Tired of running away from her. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Just you know,” she pulls anything from her mind just to keep the conversation going. “How have you been?” She starts with the basics. Surely, that one will lead somewhere.

“I’m doing alright.” So much effort from that response.

“You didn't seem like you’re alright,” she snaps back.

“Well, not everyone gets happy days,” he confesses. “I’m sure you can agree sometimes.”

“I can,” she nods. “And you got a point. I guess I’m just stuck with the past and all…”

Such an answer sends a shiver down in his spine. “How so?”

“You're not as cheerful as you were… Not as optimistic as I knew you.”

“You really are stuck,” he scoffs. “Things change… So do people.”

She can only nod. “But hey… It seems you're doing great… You're a head chef now.”

“You also seem to be living a great life,” he agrees. “I guess it was worth it.”

Her nerve is also struck by his words, knowing what he means. “I guess it was…” she whispers, even though such a response is something that she isn’t sure she believes.

They arrive at Junghoon’s residence. A fifteen-story apartment in the middle of a quiet downtown neighborhood in Cheongdam, Seoul. At least it’s quiet this hour. While not the tallest within the block, it's the same height as most of the buildings alongside it.

Junghoon exits the car and bows to her with respect. “Thank you again, Miss Zhou.”

“It’s…” she bows to him, lowering her head from her seat. “No problem, Junghoon-ssi.”

He reminisces about who she was to him. Before the sorrowful memories. Before she left. The thought of her leaving again constricts his heart. Instead of letting his own past spite keep on pulling him into silence, Junghoon takes a deep breath.

“Xinyu-ssi…” he mutters. To him, it doesn’t matter if he’s shameless for calling her now. Let alone if he’s called an asshole for changing his tone when she kept on putting up with his attitude. Screw his own grudges. Screw his ego. Screw himself. At this moment, all his heart tells him that he just wants to see her again. Even if it’s for a second.

“Yes?” She halts the windows from rolling up, looking back at him with a hopeful gaze.

For a moment, Junghoon looks her in the eye. Yet his mouth hesitates to say something else. At least what he wants to say to her. Like any other sane person with a conscience, he wants to make up for what he’s done. For how he’s treated this person like a brick wall for days.

“Take care.”

Close enough. He still doesn’t know what to think of this. What to feel about any of this. Yet it already feels fifteen times better than how he treated her the last time they’ve met.

And so what else can Xinyu do at the moment? She lets out a smile the second Junghoon turns his back and enters the apartment lobby. The woman drives off away from him, yet not a second, could she think without thinking about what just happened tonight.

Entering his room, Junghoon looks through his window and sighs in silence, slowly unveiling the despair on his face in front of the silent and glistening lights of Seoul. Through the reflection of the glass, he sees a glimpse of himself at a time he rarely reminisces, at least at his own will.

Eight years ago.

= = =

so that's the prologue. if some may have gotten confused by the "cover" of this chapter, I'll just clarify that this isn't a harem story lol. but don't worry, I'm not stopping my one-shots and the other series because they're also w.i.p.s. I just decided to give a taste of this one. there will also be smut here, but right now, I'm setting up this series as it is. stay tuned and, as usual, tysm for the read. if you're a wav, don't forget to stream aya & a25! until next time. ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

#kpop au #male reader #male reader fluff #triples fluff #kpop angst #kpop gg #triples au #triples x reader #triples x male reader

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waterme-stories · 8 months ago

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Ninja editing my beloved!

I've never added an entire scene, that's inspirational! I definitely restructure sentences and tweak words pretty much every time I re-read (which is often in the days after I post). I love when the solution for something that was bothering me finally clicks! If that only happens once it's up for two days, so be it.

There's something about seeing it published that lets you look through a fresh lens :)

Does anyone else do this? I think it was @waterme-stories who used the term 'ninja editing'. After posting a chapter is usually when I end up getting some quick inspiration and sometimes I'll even add entire scenes

#this is also why it takes me an hour+ to post even a short piece #(and that's WITH the draft “final” and the tags decided and ready to paste in)#there's just something about seeing it on AO3 🤔#I've tried changing the font in my draft to the AO3 font and it works okay!#but it doesn't hit quite the same #writing #reference #fanfic #my work #water logs #ao3

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folkwhoredoll · 1 year ago

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soothing touch - rafe cameron x fem!reader

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

synopsis: after a tiresome week, your boyfriend knows just how to help

word count: 2.1k

warnings/tags: smut! (f oral, unprotected sex, nipple play), soft bf!rafe

a/n: hi everyone! i don't think i can ever say this enough but thank you for your support! however i might be inactive for the next days or weeks because easter break is over :< but i promise to keep writing whenever i can <3 i hope you'll like this one. happy reading!

masterlist

+*:ꔫ:*﹤

“Baby, come lay with me.” You heard your boyfriend whine from the bed.

“Just a few more minutes, Rafey. I need to finish this essay, or I’ll lose my train of thought.” You replied without looking at him, eyes steady between your laptop screen and keyboard.

Rafe groaned, growing impatient after hearing you use the same excuse for the third time.

It had been over two hours since he laid on the bed and over two hours that you refused to join him. The past weeks have made you busy, considering you were a graduating student. There were deadlines here and there, you have experienced sleepless nights for the past few days, and coffee is probably the only liquid cursing through your veins.

Rafe knew it was coming and made sure to help in any way possible, but it doesn’t mean he was okay with it. He missed taking you out on dates and golfing sessions, but it has been almost a month since he was able to do so.

He came to your house a few hours ago and brought you snacks you felt incredibly grateful for. You welcomed and greeted him, then returned to your room to sit in front of your laptop.

“I’m sorry, babe. I promise I’ll just finish this essay, and then we can cuddle, okay?” You offered to him softly, feeling bad that you’d ignored him.

Rafe, who has a stern exterior towards other people, is always soft towards you. His eyes softened upon hearing your offer, wanting nothing more than for you two to spend the night together.

“Okay. I’ll wait for you.”

You flashed him a smile, your fingers desperately working to finish your essay.

Around half an hour later, you were typing out the last sentence for your draft. You inhaled deeply and stretched your back before shutting down the computer, deciding that you would just do your revisions in the morning.

“Finally.” You heard Rafe’s voice, making you chuckle, and excitedly made your way to the bed where your boyfriend was adorably tucked in the covers. “Hi, baby.”

You crawled in his arms, feeling extremely relaxed now that you were out of your stiff chair. “Hi, Rafey.”

“What do you want to do now?” He asked you sweetly, letting you decide depending on how you were feeling.

You thought momentarily, looking at the time and realizing it was almost midnight. Yet, surprisingly, you didn’t feel an ounce of sleepiness.

“Hmm, I don’t know. I’m not sleepy yet. You?”

“Nah. I’m not sleepy, too.” Rafe shook his head before an idea popped into his mind. “You want me to give you a massage?”

Without hesitation, you agreed, nodding your head quickly. “Yes, please. My back hurts so much.”

Rafe gave you a pitied look. “Aw, baby. I got you; go get ready.”

You positioned yourself on the bed, grabbing a pillow where you can rest your head on. You sat up for a while to remove the thin sweater that hugged your torso. Your bra followed after you skillfully removed the clasps on your back. The amount of times that Rafe had seen you naked has made you shameless in making such gestures in front of him.

Meanwhile, Rafe watched your actions as he positioned himself behind you, hungrily eyeing your bare back before reminding himself that he was supposed to help you relax.

“Lay down on your stomach, pretty girl.” He spoke.

You did as he asked, sighing relief when your front side made contact with your sheets.

Knowing your room like the back of his hand, Rafe grabbed a bottle of lavender oil from your bedside drawer. He squeezed out a small amount, only enough to cover your back. Once satisfied, he warmed up the oil by rubbing it between his palms before putting it on your skin.

You let out a soft moan at the contact; the minty feeling from the oil and the feeling of your boyfriend’s large hands on your back made you instantly relax.

Rafe continued to give you a massage until his hands were dry from the oil, giving your back continuous strokes while you were on the verge of sleeping.

Little do you know, your breathy sighs have awakened something in Rafe.

He cleared his throat after several minutes, leaning down to check if you were sleeping. After seeing your opened eyes, Rafe relaxed and gave you a smile. “You feeling better?”

You mumbled a ‘yes,’ groaning as you slowly turned around on your back. “Thank you, Rafe.”

Rafe replied nothing, instead just lowering his face to yours in order to press a kiss on your lips. You smiled into the kiss, making Rafe go crazy. He wanted nothing more than to go further but hesitated as he thought of your tired body.

Unexpectedly, you were the one who deepened the kiss, your hands subtly moving up to his hair.

“Baby…” Rafe gasped, pulling away slightly. “Are you not tired?”

“Not really.” You said honestly as you looked into his eyes. “Feels good, Rafe. Please.”

Your words were confirmation for Rafe, making him press his lips back to yours. You let out a gasp when your boyfriend’s lips went from your mouth to your neck, kissing and sucking your skin softly.

“Hey, no marks.” You reminded him, remembering the time that your parents almost fainted when they saw Rafe’s love marks on your neck and chest.

“Yes, ma’am.” He cheekily smiled.

Rafe’s attention was suddenly on your breasts. He already had easy access to them after you removed your top. You moaned in surprise when his lips wrapped around your left nipple, your back arching as you tried to catch your breath.

“Rafe.” You heaved when his mouth attached to your other nipple, his fingers now working simultaneously as he toyed with the other one. When he was satisfied with the attention that he gave to your breasts, he straightened up his posture, and you took the opportunity to start removing his shirt.

You quickly get rid of his shirt, throwing it sideways as you focus on his shorts.

“Someone’s excited.” He chuckled.

“It’s been a while.” You pouted.

“I know, sweetheart. We have a lot of time.” Rafe replied softly. He pecked your lips once before crouching down. “Lift your hips slightly, baby. Let me take this off of you.”

You obeyed, pushing yourself up from the bed to allow Rafe to pull down your shorts and underwear. You took a deep breath at the realization that you were fully exposed but paid no attention when you caught Rafe eyeing your pussy while licking his lips.

“Well, what do we have here?” He smirked, his right-hand landing gently on your thigh.

“Rafe…” You whined lowly, feeling frustrated as his fingers teased you by drawing random circles along your skin.

“What do you want, Y/n?” He asked innocently.

You groaned. “Stop teasing me.”

He smirked. Rafe loves nothing more than seeing you surrender to his touches. And right now, he’s enjoying the growing smell and wetness of your arousal.

Removing his hand from your thigh, he pressed a finger against your clit. You jolted forward; the pressure alone is enough to stimulate pleasure to your core. “Fuck.”

Rafe’s finger gently circled your clit, both his cock and smile becoming more prominent at the sight of you. He surprised you by pressing two fingers in, his thumb taking over your clit. He began pumping, enjoying your moans mixed with the sound of your wet folds.

“Fucking hell, Rafe. More.” You demanded through deep breaths, your chest rising and falling.

He didn’t respond, pulling out his fingers after a few moments. Your brows pinched together in confusion, looking at him as he brought his fingers to his mouth.

“You taste amazing, darling.” He smirked and watched as you stared at his lips. After licking his two fingers clean, he lifted his hands and brought his thumb to your face. “Open.”

Without hesitation, you opened your mouth and took his thumb in. You sucked, tasting yourself and letting out a moan while maintaining eye contact.

“Fuck.” Rafe spoke, feeling his cock straining. “I was planning to go soft on you. But you seem more eager than I do.”

After you’re done licking his finger, he pulls down his trousers and underwear. Despite seeing him naked multiple times, you still can’t help but be amazed at his size, your thoughts growing wild with desire.

You watched as Rafe kneeled before you, his eyes on the same level as your folds. He pulled you nearer to him, your lower half almost hanging off the edge of the table as he wrapped your legs around his shoulder.

“You gotta keep quiet, baby. We don’t want to get caught by your parents, do we?”

Without any warning, Rafe pressed his face to your pussy, his tongue expertly slipping inside and sucking on your clit.

“Fuck!” You moaned aloud, instantly forgetting his words as you pressed your weight against the bookshelf behind you.

He slapped your thigh softly. “What did I just say?”

You ignored him, too focused on the pleasure that you’re feeling to control the sounds from your mouth. You squirmed against his lips, grinding your hips upwards to get more. Your boyfriend smiled proudly.

“Yes, yes, Rafe…. Shit.”

He pulled one of his hands away from you, lowering it to pump his manhood. His occasional moans caused vibrations throughout your body, your toes curling and your eyes shutting.

Rafe felt your legs shake, and he started to pull away. He needed you to cum, but not yet.

“W-what?” You asked desperately, almost whining at the loss of contact.

He gently shushed you, pushing himself up and lining his cock directly at your slits. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll finish you right here.”

He pushed himself into you inch by inch, your warm folds wrapping around him perfectly. Rafe groaned at the damp and tight feeling surrounding him, head falling back in pleasure as he settled perfectly within you.

You moaned once more, loudly this time as he started thrusting, his rhythm steady yet forceful. You repeatedly called his name, hands gripping the sheets around you as you shook in pleasure. Rafe looked down to watch himself disappear inside you, eyes filled with lust and pride every time his hips meet yours. He grabbed your thighs and pushed your legs forward, almost keeping them against your chest.

“That’s right, darling. Moan my name.” Sweat started to form on his forehead, his thrusts becoming harsher and quicker in desperate need. “C’mon, Y/n. Let me see you cum.”

“Rafe…” You cried, your cunt clenching and throbbing. The bed was creaking slowly, and you could only hope that your parents were currently deep in slumber.

The pleasure was overwhelming as Rafe focused on every part of you as much as possible. Both of you panting and covered in sweat, his hands working wonders on your clit and nipple while he perfectly filled your cunt.

“R-Rafe, I’m…”

“I know, baby. Cum with me. Come on, pretty girl.” He whispered closely in your ear, maintaining the speed of his thrusts as he rubbed your clit faster.

Your heart rate was increasing, and your body was shaking. But it was Rafe’s direct eye contact and sudden pinch on your clit that pushed you over the edge, eyes rolling at the back of your head as you released.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Rafe moaned at the sight, loving the feeling of your tight walls and warm release around his cock.

It wasn’t long until he pumped several more times before he gave in, releasing his juices inside of you with heavy breaths.

Neither of you moved for a while, still breathless and shaking.

Rafe pulled out of you slowly, making you whine. He cooed at you, pressing kisses on both of your cheeks. “Are you feeling better, baby?”

Unable to form words because you were still catching your breath, you just grinned and nodded, your hand rising to cup and stroke his cheek.

“Let’s get you ready for bed now, sweetheart.”

The rest of the night, you didn’t break any sweat. Rafe took charge of changing your clothes and sheets, even giving you a quick bath to refresh you.

On times like these, you thank the heavens for giving you a boyfriend like Rafe Cameron.

#drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe smut #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader smut

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deezee112 · 6 months ago

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The worst ending 10 : A Delicate Descent

The worst ending 9 | The worst ending 11

Yandere!Jade Leech x GN!Reader

A/N : damn I'm starting to think of an ending where the main character dies. I think I should watch a movie to do the ending.

P.S. I'm almost done with the final draft of kalim.

Warning : This story contains themes of obsession , emotional manipulation , and accidental death.

Tags :

@iris-arcadia

If you want me to tag you please tell me.

English is not my first language.

The day you brought him home felt surreal, as though you were stepping into a bizarre dream. him as you decided to name him, was staring at you with those eerily sharp eyes. His expression never betrayed much—calm, collected, and somehow unsettlingly polite for a doll-child. You thought the name suited him. Something elegant yet grounded.

" Jade. " you said aloud, testing the weight of the name. " That’s what I’ll call you. "

The doll’s lips tilted up into a small smile.

You were a little shocked, but after all, this wasn’t an ordinary doll—he was meant to be human in every way that mattered. This would be your responsibility, as strange as it all felt.

" Well, Jade. " you said, setting you bag down and brushing past him. " Let’s set some ground rules, alright? First, no calling me ‘Mother.’ I’m too young for that nonsense. Just call me y/n. "

Jade tilted his head, looking amused but obedient.

Raising Jade wasn’t as difficult as your had feared, but there were moments when his quirks left you baffled. Most of all, it was his obsession with mushrooms.

One morning, you woke to the savory aroma of something cooking in the kitchen. Bleary-eyed, you shuffled in to find Jade at the stove, humming quietly as he sautéed mushrooms in a pan.

" You’re cooking? " you asked, voice thick with sleep.

Jade glanced over his shoulder, wearing an apron far too big for his slender frame. " Good morning, y/n. Breakfast is ready. I made mushroom omelets. "

You grimaced. " Mushrooms again? Jade, I told you yesterday I’m not a fan. "

He smiled that calm, unreadable smile of his. " You’ll like these. I promise. I seasoned them perfectly this time. "

Despite your reluctance, you allowed you self a bite, only to gag and spit it out dramatically. " Nope. Still mushrooms. "

Jade’s smile didn’t waver, but something in his eyes darkened. " You just haven’t acquired the taste yet. " he said smoothly. " You will, eventually. "

You laughed nervously, waving him off. " Sure, sure. Maybe next century. "

As time passed, you couldn’t deny that Jade was growing on you. He was intelligent, polite, and surprisingly thoughtful. He’d often brew you tea after long days at work, sit with you during meals, and even offer to help clean the apartment.

One evening, as you sprawled on the couch after a particularly grueling day, Jade approached with a small plate in hand.

" What’s this? " you asked, eyeing the plate warily.

" Just a snack. " he said, sitting beside you. " Mushroom crisps. They’re much less intense than sautéed ones. I thought you might like them. "

You sighed but took the plate, nibbling on one of the crisps. To you surprise, it wasn’t terrible. " Huh. Not bad. "

Jade’s smile widened, and for a moment, he looked genuinely pleased. " I told you I’d find a way. "

" Alright, don’t get cocky, chef. " you teased, ruffling his hair.

For all his endearing qualities, Jade intensity was difficult to manage. He had a habit of watching you too closely, always with that serene smile that felt just a little too sharp. And then there were the arguments.

One afternoon, after coming home late from work, you found Jade waiting for you by the door. His smile was as calm as ever, but there was an edge to his voice.

" You’re late. " he said, his tone deceptively light.

" Yeah, well, work ran over. " you replied, brushing past him.

" You didn’t answer my calls. " he continued, following you. " I was worried. "

" My phone died. " you explained, kicking off you shoes. " It happens. "

" You could have borrowed someone else’s phone. " Jade said, stepping closer. " Do you have any idea how anxious I was? What if something had happened to you? "

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. " Jade, I’m fine. You don’t need to hover over me like this. I’m an adult, remember? "

The tension simmered between them, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of something dangerous in his eyes.

The argument reached its peak one evening while they were walking home from the market. Jade had been unusually quiet, his expression unreadable.

" Something on your mind? " you asked, trying to break the silence.

He didn’t respond at first, but as they neared the apartment building, he finally spoke. " Why don’t you trust me? "

" What? "

" You keep brushing me off. " he said, his voice eerily calm. " You don’t take me seriously. You don’t let me take care of you the way I want to. Why? "

" Jade, what are you even talking about? " You asked, exasperated. " You’re overthinking this. "

" No. " he said, stepping in front of you, blocking you path. " You don’t understand how much you mean to me. You never do. "

" Okay, you’re being weird. " you said, trying to push past him.

He grabbed You wrist, his grip firm but not painful. " Why can’t you see that I only want what’s best for you? "

The argument escalated quickly. you pulled away, you frustration boiling over. " Jade, you’re acting like a child! Just—just stop! "

And then it happened.

In his desperation to make you stay, to make you listen, Jade reached out, his movements frantic. you stepped back instinctively, not realizing how close they were to the stairwell.

you foot slipped.

" y/n! "

Time seemed to slow as you tumbled down the stairs, you body crumpling at the bottom. Jade froze at the top, his eyes wide with horror.

For a moment, everything was silent. And then he was running down the stairs, kneeling beside you, shaking you gently.

" y/n... " he whispered, his voice trembling. " Wake up. Please wake up.. "

But you didn’t respond.

Tears streamed down his face as he cradled you lifeless body, his mind racing. He hadn’t meant for this to happen. He just wanted you to understand, to stay with him.

" y/n.. " he choked out, pressing his forehead against you. " I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it… "

The reality of what he’d done sank in slowly, painfully. And yet, even in his grief, he couldn’t bring himself to let you go.

" You’ll forgive me, won’t you..? " he whispered, his voice breaking. " You always forgive me. "

He stayed there for hours, holding your, his mind spiraling into a dark, inescapable abyss.

Jade never moved on from that moment. The apartment remained untouched, frozen in time. Every day, he would sit by you favorite chair, talking to the empty air as though you were still there.

And every night, he would prepare a plate of mushroom crisps, setting it on the table for you.

" Try the mushrooms. " he would say softly, his voice echoing in the silence. " They’re so delicious. You’ll love them this time. I promise. "

#yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst x reader #yandere jade leech #yandere jade x reader #au doll #Hey #is he mad that we didn't eat his mushrooms?

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rafesbabygirlx · 4 months ago

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Hi angels (this is gonna be long)

I ramble because when I feel big feels I don't think straight, but please read 🤍

I'm posting this now because I just need to get it out. This has been weighing heavily on me. But I doubt anyone will read it hahah

This is really hard for me to say, but after a lot of thought, I’ve decided to wrap up some things I have left, complete some more requests and step back from writing anything new—at least for now.

I’ve been contemplating this for a while, trying to push past the feeling, but I’ve reached a point where I can’t ignore it anymore. Writing has been such a joy for me, and I’ve loved being part of this little community. You all welcomed me with open arms, and I can’t express how much that means to me.

Honestly, I don’t think I’m in the right mental space for it right now. As much as I love creating, I’ve found myself constantly doubting my work, comparing my writing to others and thinking that I can do so much better, and overthinking every detail. It’s a cycle I’ve fallen into on my own, and it’s taken a toll. On top of that, I feel like my blog has lost some of its spark, and my writing isn’t going anywhere and not growing. I’ve also gotten some nasty anons the past few weeks that I ignore but they still haven’t helped with my thoughts. 🫠

With my final semester of college also weighing on me, everything feels like it’s piling up. So, I think I just need a short break. Ew I feel like I sound so insecure. I think I’m just too hard on myself, especially when I get overwhelmed and burnt out.

I feel really guilty stepping away after working so hard to build this space and gaining so much support. The last thing I want is to let anyone down. But right now, this is what I need.

Please stick with me and don't forget me.

That said, I truly love being here, and I don’t think I can stay away for too long. Honestly, I might still post every now and then if I feel inspired. I also won’t be going completely dark - I want to stay engaged and continue supporting the amazing people I’ve met here. I’d love for my moots to keep me updated on their posts, and I’ll still be around to chat.

Sorry if none of this makes sense. I really hate that I've gotten to this point. I still have some things I want to complete and then I plan to take some time off from writing. But I will be around. We can still interact. I don't want to completely lose what I have here. 🤍

I want to go through some more requests and I have a couple of parts left of The Pen Pal. I like to finish what I’ve started and I’m committed to that. I'm posting this and I have a couple of drafts ready to post tonight and then going to take a break for a day or 2 after posting this (because I feel awful and I want to avoid it)

I’m hoping that this will bring me some relaxation but I’m also hoping it will bring me some inspiration too. I have a series I’d love to restart and a lovely anon gave me a great idea for a JJ AU I’d love to do at some point. I hope those ideas would excite you just as much too.

I think right now it will just be a couple of weeks off just from writing. To refresh, heal my mind, and finally breathe. I’ve already expressed it slightly in some posts but I’ve been really thinking about it.

I already can’t wait to be back because this community has been so good to me. I appreciate every single one of you. What’s that corny saying? It’s not goodbye it’s see you later? I love you guys, and I’ll make another post when I officially take my break.

I HOPE THIS MAKES SENSE. IT ALL DOES IN MY HEAD. JUST A LITTLE BAD AT EXPRESSING MYSELF.

I wanna thank everyone who has supported my writings and I LOVE every single one of you.

I also wanna thank some of my moots! You all have helped me incredibly since I've joined. You're all so kind hearted and probably the best group of people I've ever connected with on the internet. I’m still here so please don’t stop tagging me or reaching out, I’ll still support all of you when I’m on a break. Forgive me if I'm forgetting anyone- not really thinking right now. But this goes for all my moots. 🤍

@rafesheaven @cameronsprincess @inthelibrarybtw @littlelamy @leather-n-velvet @writingroom21 @ivysprophecy @maybejj @rafescokewhore @nemesyaaa @rafescvntyclubgf @angelicameron @tanjamikaelson @starkeynation @quinnsbabygirl @frankoceanluvr11 @httpsdrewstarkey @v3n1ce-bxtch @zyafics @whytheylosttheirminds @rafesbuzzcutseason @maybankslover

#rafesbabygirlx speaks

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melodramamirrors · 3 months ago

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🎉Happy Birthday Again🎉 // Toy Freddy x Host! reader

It feels like every day is the same, doesn’t it? Wake up, get dressed, clock in, and do the day. No variation, no surprises; like a looping song, repeating itself forever. Well, that was capitalism for you. It wasn’t any different this morning. Attired with your sprucely contoured Freddy’s uniform, you entered the doors of the pizzeria.

“Hello Y/N!”

“Good morning Y/N.”

“Hey Y/N.”

As if right on cue, your fellow coworkers greeted you like always. You gave a smile and waved to each other as you passed. Deeper into the pizzeria, you strolled along to the employee’s only room. It was a rather dimly lit room, with no windows, no vents; only the old flickering lightbulb tiredly hanging above, and the stale scents of dust and rotten tomato sauce. You wondered if the maintenance crew would ever switch out that old lightbulb. You thought about complaining or perhaps doing it yourself, but you decided it wasn’t worth the effort. Maybe one day you’ll get around to it.

You grabbed a time card and slid it into the slot of the clock machine. As you slipped it back out you took a look at it. 9:46 am. You were one minute late, like always. You felt a slight shiver run down your spine and you wondered where the sudden draft had come from. You were ready to leave.

You made your way back down the hall and into the lobby. Just past the cashier’s counter stood your host stand which you stationed yourself at. Damn, you thought. Why did you always forget to clean off your station the night before? You sighed as you began to tidy up. In your concentration, you hadn’t noticed the peculiarly light footsteps of a familiar friend. You bent down, shuffling through your supplies as you searched for your clipboard. Finally, you found it, but as you reached for it you caught something from your peripherals. You would’ve been quick to straighten back up if that godforsaken stand didn’t stop you. Yes, you, Y/N, had just rammed your head against your own host stand, and you fell back onto your butt with a quiet yelp.

“Oh my, employee Y/N!” you heard him gasp. You didn’t even need to look up to know who it was, but you glared at him anyway. Towering over you was no other than Toy Freddy, who gingerly reached out a giant paw. You bitterly refused his offering and stood up on your own. “Are you okay?”

No. I’ve got a headache and my ass hurts now, you thought. You heard the stifled giggles of your coworkers nearby and rolled your eyes. “We’ve really got to stop meeting like this, Freddy,” you grunted, rubbing the back of your head.

“My sincerest apologies, Y/N,” he said guiltily. Still, you wondered if he was truly sorry at all.

“How do you even walk so quietly anyway?” you asked. Freddy’s ears wiggled.

“I’m not sure! I’ve never noticed,” he said. Somehow you doubted that. You watched as his bushy eyebrows raised. He looked worried, concerned even, but in a distinctly animatronic way. It was like these robots tried their hardest to express emotions, but they couldn’t get it quite right. It was uncanny. “But Y/N, are you okay? Did you get hurt? I can take you to the first aid kit!”

“No, no, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.” You waved him off and began preparing for the guests again.

“I see… Well, have a rockin’ day Y/N!” he said with a cheeky smile as he turned to wander off. He stopped, however, mid-walk and turned back to you. Ah, here it comes… “Oh! I almost forgot! I meant to give you something!”

He rushed back to you, toddling as fast as his husky build would allow. You pretended to be confused with a raise of an eyebrow. He lifted a clenched paw and gently unraveled his clawed digits to reveal a small pin resting in his palm. “Ta-da!”

“Aw, you found my nametag!” you exclaimed. You smiled and reached out to take it. It was a cute name tag, you were quite fond of it; it had a space for your name—already written in cursive. Colorful confetti surrounded it and an adorable cartoon Toy Freddy hung off the side as if giving your name a big bear hug. You actually had quite a few of these by now. What started as a simple mistake had turned into a habit when you began leaving them at home. Sure, your collection had grown a bit excessive, but the expression on Freddy’s face when he handed you a new one every day made it hard to reject another one. He just looked so proud.

You placed the pin snugly on the right side of your uniform vest, ensuring it wouldn’t fall off again. “I don’t know how I keep losing these. Thanks, Teddy bear,” you said and smiled up at him.

He grinned, almost bashfully. “You’re very welcome, Y/N. Try not to lose it this time!” he said with a goofy chuckle. “Oh, look at the time! I’d better get on stage before the others give me an earful again!” You chuckled and waved goodbye as he made his way back to the dining hall.

The morning flew by about as quickly as a tortoise. It was that time of day when nobody really came in and by god you were bored. The only time you found yourself stimulated was when the occasional group of hungover teens or an older couple with grandkids came by to enjoy an early morning pizza. You may have been a bit guilty of holding them hostage just for a little socializing—yeah, you really were that desperate by now. You did, however, have a few opportunities to chat with coworkers and the occasional bot when they were granted off-stage privileges..

Toy Bonnie was the first to greet you. He usually was, being the annoying bunny he was. You were minding your own, checking off seats on your clipboard when the blue idiot slid up behind you. “Hey there, dollface,” he said in his squeaky, chipmunk-like voice. You nearly jumped right out of your skin. No really, you felt like your soul had ejected itself and flown away. “Sheesh, someone’s a jumpy bunny today!”

“What do you want, Bon?” you asked, but not before giving him a very obvious eye roll.

“Woah, you woke up on the wrong side of the bed today or somethin’?” he giggled. You stared at him blankly. “Say, I know what’ll cheer you up!”

“What’s that?”

Bonnie leaned closer and slumped a heavy arm across your shoulders. “Alright, sugar, imagine this—tonight, a dazzling rockstar and the most darling host team up for the ultimate after-hours hang. Sound tempting?”

You stared at him. He stared at you. You threw his arm off of your shoulders and walked away.

“Hey, wait! Where ya goin’ honey buns?”

“Don’t call me that!”

As the hours carried on, so did you, and soon enough it would become the afternoon rush. You were growing quite sick of this day already.

The guests piled in by the dozens. Lunch for three here, Party Room B for ten there, I want a booth, we need a highchair, can I have a napkin, please? Where’s my fork? Why isn’t Chica wearing her beak? My kid’s thumb is stuck in the arcade machine, my son is missing, his name is David! Save him! Why can’t you save him? Help, my pizza has an eyeball on it! What? No, not a real one, it’s a plastic eye! How did that happen? Why was it your problem, anyway? Oh dear lord, you needed a break.

“HI.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ!” You whipped around. “...Hey BB.”

“HI. HA HA HA HA.” He waddled away. What’s with these robots sneaking up behind you? You sighed and rubbed your temples. Breathe, Y/N, breathe, and smile.

“Y/N? Honey, you look exhausted…” You were too tired to even react this time. You hazily turned to face Toy Chica. “Hey, why don’t you take a break for a little bit? I can handle the guests.”

You smiled at her. At least, you thought you smiled. You weren’t sure. Nonetheless, you shook your head. “Nice of you to offer, but I can’t leave my post.”

“Oh, come on, you can rest for a couple minutes! No one will notice, I promise,” she pleaded and put a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. The feathers on her arm tickled the back of your neck. “Besides, isn’t this when you usually take a break?”

Huh. You weren’t sure actually. You were a tad too tired to argue, though, so you sighed and nodded.

“Ahh! Yay! Ohh, I promise I’ll make you proud Y/N! Don’t you worry, I’ll do everything perfectly!” she squealed and clapped her clawed hands. You already had a feeling you were making a mistake.

Time must have been warping because, by the time you had started feeling regrets it was too late, you were already in the employee lounge. You half expected to be greeted by another coworker, but it seemed everyone was too busy to rest. You weren’t sure why Toy Chica had offered to cover you when there were plenty of waiters, janitors, and cashiers working ten times the amount you were.

Perhaps it was just a matter of robotic limitations. You supposed you wouldn’t trust an animatronic to mop vomit or carry greasy pizza either. Did robots steal? What would they even do with the money? Could they count change? Of course, they could, dummy. You sat there staring off into space as you argued with your own mind about what robots could and couldn’t do for quite a while. You could’ve sworn you’d had this debate before…

The door creaked open allowing a looming shadow to cast over you. You felt a spike of panic surge through your body. How long have you been gone? How could you let a robot chicken take over your job? Your boss was totally going to fire you.

Okay, okay, calm down Y/N. Breathe. You’ll just have to take care of whoever found you before they snitch! Yeah, that’ll do it… Wait, what if it was your boss? You couldn’t kill your boss! Oh god, breathe…!

He stood there, staring down at the panicking you. He lingered for a bit too long, as if he was observing, rather than simply looking. After some time, he entered the room, almost hesitantly. As the door closed behind him your eyes finally adjusted back to the dim lighting. You breathed a sigh of relief as you realized it was only Freddy. It was an odd quirk of yours he’d noticed; you seemed to relax more around the robots than the other humans. He’d always wondered why.

“Hey Teddy bear, whatcha doin’ here?” you asked. He tilted his head, and the light no longer hit his eyes. Something about him felt… off. It was then that you felt that odd shiver wash over you again.

“You shouldn’t be in here alone, you know,” he said. You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the comment. Was the air in here staler than usual? Did the light always flicker this much? Was the vending machine always so damn loud? You wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“You’ve worked too hard today, haven’t you?” he asked gently. You gave him a small, almost unnoticeable nod. “Would you like me to cover for you? I can greet guests. I can smile. I can even ask if they’d like a booster seat. Just like you do.”

You felt your brows furrow. “You’re not supposed to do my job for me, Freddy. Besides, you’re on birthday duty today, aren’t you?”

“Well, yes, but I’d like for you to rest…” he said, and you weren’t sure what to think of that. It was a nice sentiment, but why did he put it like that? “If I recall correctly, I’ve only been booked for one party today.”

One party. Right, you’d forgotten about that one. It was the last one of the day, starting in…You glanced up at the clock hanging above him. Fifteen minutes.

“Shit! Freddy, we gotta get going!” you hissed. You jumped up, grabbed his paw, and went for the door. In your mind you were running; in reality, you were very slowly dragging a very heavy and unmotivated bear across the pizzeria. You thought you’d heard him scold your use of curse words, but you weren’t concerned with that at the moment. How on earth had you spaced out for an entire four hours? Who even scheduled a party for 7:30 pm?

By the time you’d made it to Party Room C, it was supposed to be C, right? Well, regardless, it was now. You took a look at the clock, eight minutes till the party.

You practically threw yourself onto the party plates and hats, laying them out as quickly as you could manage. No, wait, that’s wrong; you had to clean the table first, then lay down the plates. You started over. Toy Freddy just stood there watching. Observing.

As you finished tying up the last balloon you glanced at the time. Three minutes. The guests should be checking in anytime now. You sighed a breath of relief as you checked your clipboard.

Party Room C? Check. 7:30 pm? Thank god. Toy Freddy? You glanced up at him. His eyes bore into yours. …Check. Everything seemed correct.

Except, there was no information on the guests themselves. No name, number, guest list, nothing. You weren’t sure what to make of it. Perhaps Freddy knew something, you thought.

“Teddy, do you happen to know who this party is reserved for?” you asked, gazing up at him hopefully. He shook his head. “Are you sure? You didn’t overhear it or anything? Didn’t I tell you earlier?”

“Y/N, why are you so worried?” he asked and stepped closer. Sometimes you forgot just how tall the toys were, but at the moment you were all too aware. You frowned. “You’ve already done this one before. Don’t you remember?” You didn’t have an answer for him. Toy Freddy took your hand in his paw and led you back to the lobby. The lights seemed a bit dim tonight. “Don’t worry, Y/N. You just need to rest,” he said. It was only now that you realized he’d led you to the entrance. You wondered why.

Why did everything feel so… hazy?

It feels like every day is the same, doesn’t it? Wake up, get dressed, clock in, and do the day—no variation, no surprises; like a looping song, repeating itself forever.

#ahh #forgive me yall #i got a bit lazy #at the end #fnaf #fnaf 2 #fnaf fandom #five nights at freddy's #fnaf x reader #fnaf x y/n #toy freddy #fnaf fanfic #toy bonnie #toy chica #balloon boy #five nights at freddys 2 #thank you #for reading <3

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janicho88 · 5 months ago

Text

Know When To Let Go Part 2

Pairing- Dean, x Female!Reader.

Word count- 4,774

Warnings- A lot of ANGST, Dean is a bit of jerk, fighting, Supernatural level violence

Summary- You almost lost Dean to a heart attack, now after one phone call there is another threat from the past that could come between you two.

A/N-I know this isn't one of my ongoing series, but this has been in my drafts for years. The first 2 parts are a rewrite of the Route 66 episode. I'm trying to get back into writing, I promise. If you would like to be removed or added to the tag list let me know. Not Beta'd, all mistakes are mine

After another rough night on the couch, Sam wakes you, telling you you need to hurry. A quick look around told you Dean never made it back last night. Apparently the mayor was killed the night before on property he bought a few weeks ago. This changes up the truck’s pattern. You hurry to get ready, while Sam calls Dean to tell him the two of you will meet him there. You arrive at the crime scene before Dean, and go over to talk to the police. Every bone in the mayor's body was crushed, internal organs turned to pudding, and the cops? No idea, it was like the guy was run over, but again no tracks. Both of you immediately think of the truck.

When Dean finally walks up to join you, Sam holds up a badge and tells another cop he was with the two of you. You back away from the guys as Dean moves over to talk to Sam. You hear Sam ask where he was last night, since he didn’t make it back to the hotel, and did they work things out between them? Specifically the obvious tension.

“Wait, you actually slept with her?” Oops, you didn’t mean for that to actually be said out loud.

Dean turns to glare at you. “Yeah, I actually did. It was pretty great too. Best night I’ve had in a very long while.”

You turn away from them trying to hold back the tears as you walk back to Impala. This shouldn’t hurt like it does. As hard as it was to believe, but for once in your life, you can’t wait to have some distance between you and Dean.

The guys are talking as they walk back toward you. Dean saying they need to figure out why the ghost truck broke the pattern and how it all fits together. You just roll your eyes.

“It’s obvious, jackass. It all comes back to Cassie’s family. Which, by the way, you were supposed to figure out the why last night. Let me guess, you were too busy to do your job.” With that you yank open the Impala’s door, getting in and slamming it behind you.

Dean sends you a nasty look through the windshield and heads toward his door. Sam grabs his arm and pulls him away first, the two talking for a few minutes, occasionally one of them will look back at you. You turn to face out the side window ignoring them, and close your eyes for good measure, so you won’t have to see him either. Then you try and work on calming yourself down.

Apparently, the guys decide to split up during their talk. Sam is going to look up courthouse records of who had owned the property, and you are going with Dean to the newspaper office. When you try to get out at the courthouse Dean won’t let you, saying you were coming with him. No one checked if this was alright with you.

At the office, Cassie makes tea for herself and Dean, sitting down extremely close to him, while he explains to her what you are busy looking up. So this is why you were with him, to do the research. The bitch hasn’t even caught on to the fact Dean hates tea. She obviously really cares about him, at least Dean is behind you and isn’t able to see your eye roll this time. Dean hasn’t even noticed or doesn’t care you are no longer speaking to him, too wrapped up in Cassie.

“We are trying to find a link between the killings in the ‘60’s and the ones going on now. There wasn’t much in the paper,” he begins explaining.

“That’s not a surprise,” you hear her respond. “The police probably didn’t do much work on them either. Back then there wasn’t much equal justice under the law around here.”

“That’s Sam,” Dean says, picking up his ringing phone and putting it on speaker. “Yeah.”

“The courthouse records show the Mayor and his wife bought an abandoned property. The last owner was the Dorian family who had it for like 150 years.”

“Wait, did you say Dorian?” you question.

“Yeah.”

You start looking up the Dorian family, when Dean asks Cassie if they were the ones who used to own the paper. She tells him they did, along with most of the other businesses and buildings around town. You open a link on the computer as Dean looks over your shoulder then pushes your chair away. You just glare at the back of him from where you and your chair stop rolling.

“That’s interesting,” he says after reading for a minute.

“What?” Sam, still on speakerphone, wants to know.

“There was a Cyrus Dorian, who vanished in April of ‘63. They investigated the disappearance but never solved the case. Round the same time as the murders were happening back then.”

“I pulled up a bunch of info on the Dorian place. It musta been in awful shape when the Mayor bought it.”

“Why’s that?” Dean presses taking Sam off speaker in the process.

Apparently Sam must have told him something about demolition, because Dean asks Cassie if the Mayor had the Dorian house knocked down. Looks like it was some big deal. It even made the front page of the paper. The boys realize that the day after the house was torn down, the monster truck began its terror. Dean looks through a few more things while talking to Sam. Unfortunately, Cassie decides to use that time to come over to you.

“What’s your deal?”

Keeping your mouth shut, you just send her a glare. You aren’t up to another fight with Dean right now. She keeps pushing and making little comments about you being Dean’s little lost puppy who doesn’t know her place. Finally having enough you break your silence. This was the horrible woman you remember Dean going out with.

“You are, you were awful to Dean and hurt him for telling the truth. He tried so hard for you, and you didn’t care. Now you want to wiggle your way back in, claim the hero for yourself. Why, just so you can throw him away again? You always were a stuck up bitch, Cassie. Leave him alone, Dean doesn’t need your drama.”

Dean stands up quickly, closing his phone, thankfully, not having heard anything between the two of you. He grabs the articles he has printed out, telling Cassie he needs to check some things with Sam. You follow Dean to the Impala to go pick up the other Winchester. He never says a word when you get in the backseat instead of the empty shotgun.

Inside the motel room, the two of them are going over notes, and old articles. You are gathering up any of your loose belongings in Baby to pack away in your bag. You are closer to the end of this case and your time with the Winchesters. Patting the top of the car, you make your way into the room. As you are adding the new items to your bag in the room, Dean’s phone rings. He jumps up hearing the caller speaking, grabs the Impala’s keys and tells you both to move it.

When he finally hangs up, he tells you both the caller was Cassie, she is at her parents’ house. Apparently she was with her mom and the two of them saw the truck. Great, now she really gets to be the victim and cuddle up to Dean. He drives quickly to get to her, pulling up outside the house, the Impala is barely off before Dean is racing inside.

Getting inside both women are spooked. Dean is sitting beside Cassie with his arm around her, while her mom is shaking in the chair. It hurt how much Dean still cares for Cassie after everything she did to him. You have always been there, but he never cared about you that way. After the last few days, you knew he never would. Sam goes to make them both a cup of tea while you stand off to the side. She asks Sam to put a couple shots in the glass when he hands it to her. Sitting down in the other chair, Sam asks if they caught a glimpse of the driver.

“It didn’t look like anyone. Everything was going so fast, and then it just disappeared. Why didn’t it kill us?”

“Whoever’s controlling the truck wants you afraid first,” Dean told her.

Sam turns to her mom, “Mrs. Robinson, Cassie said that your husband saw the truck before he died.” The poor woman is unable to answer, she is just shaking.

“Mom?” Cassie tried.

“Oh, Martin was under a lot of stress. You can’t be sure about what he was seeing.”

Dean’s arm tightens around Cassie before he starts talking, which had you turning away. “Well after tonight I think we can be reasonably sure he was seeing a truck. With what happened tonight, you and Cassie are marked. Okay? You both could die. So if you know something now would be a really good time to tell us.” Cassie tries to stop Dean from pressing her mom, until the woman speaks up.

“Yes, okay he said he saw a truck.”

“Did he know who?” You ask, involving yourself for the first time tonight.

“He thought he did.”

“Who was it?” The poor woman is getting terribly upset as she prepares to answer your question.

“Cyrus, It was a man we knew named Cyrus.”

From the corner of your eye you see the brother’s exchange a look before Dean grabs something out of his bag. It is the article from earlier, about Dorian’s disappearance, he shows it to Mrs. Robinson, asking if that is Cyrus.

She turns away from you all, whispering that he had died more than 40 years ago.

Dean looks at Sam before quietly asking “How do you know he died, Mrs. Robinson? The paper just said he went missing. How are you sure he died?”

“We were all very young. I had dated Cyrus for a while, but I was also seeing Martin. In secret of course. Inter-racial couples didn’t go over too well back then. When I broke it off with Cyrus and he found out about Martin… I don’t know. He changed. His hatred, his hatred was frightening.”

You look up at Sam, what she is saying suddenly clicked. “The murders.”

The poor woman sounds like she is trying not to cry as she continues on. “Yes, there were rumors. People of color disappearing into some truck. Nothing was ever done. Martin and an... Martin and I were gonna be married in that little church near here, but at the last minute we decided we didn’t want the attention.”

“What happened then, with Cyrus?” You gently asked.

She is really crying now, and you feel awful for her. “The day we set for the wedding was the day someone set fire to the church. There was a children’s choir practicing in there. All of them died.”

“Did the attacks stop then?”

She completely broke down talking through her tears, you really feel like giving her a hug right now. “No! There was still one more. One night that truck came for Martin. It was Cyrus, he beat Martin something terrible. But Martin got loose, and he started hitting Cyrus back and just kept hitting.”

“Why didn’t you call the cops?” Dean cuts in.

“Don’t forget, we are talking about 40 years ago. He called his friends, Clayton Soames, and Jimmy Anderson. The three of them put Cyrus’ body in the truck and rolled it into the swamp at the end of his land. Those three kept that secret all of these years.”

“Now all three are gone.” Sam said.

“So is the Mayor,” Dean interjects.. “Now we heard him say that you of all people would know he is not a racist. What made him say that?”

Mrs. Robinson looks away before looking back at all of you. “He was a good man. Back then he was a young deputy back then investigating Cyrus’ disappearance. Once he figured out what Martin and the others had done he... he did nothing. All because he also knew what Cyrus had done.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Cassie cries.

“I was trying to protect them. Now there is no one left to protect.”

“Yes, there is.” Dean retorts a little rougher. He is looking at Cassie, of course he is. This is what Dean does, protect the hurt and weak. Be their knight in shining armor. You couldn’t take it and head outside for some air. Maybe the truck will come after you, at this point you just don’t care.

You lean against the trunk of the Impala facing away from the house trying and failing to keep the tears at bay. A few minutes later, you hear a voice behind you. “I’m sorry, Y/N. Are you going to be okay?”

“I just want to be done with this Sam. I can’t stay around him any longer. I need space to get my head on straight, and finally accept he doesn’t see me like that, and there will never be anything more between your brother and I.”

He joins you leaning against the trunk. “I really don’t want you to leave. But after all this, I understand if you do need to go. Just promise to check in with me every once in a while, okay? I promise I won’t tell Dean.”

“I’ll do my best, Sammy.”

“I’m only letting you get away with that name this one time.” He gives you a sad soft smile and you both go quiet, waiting for the older Winchester to appear.

Sam is the first to move when Dean’s footsteps are heard coming from the house. “You know, my life was so simple. Just school, exams, papers on polycentric cultural norms.”

“So you’re saying I saved you from a boring existence? You’re welcome.”

“Yeah, well I occasionally miss boring.”

“Anyways, we got a killer truck.”

“I miss boring conversations that didn’t begin with a killer truck.”

You just shake your head wanting to get this over with. “Alright, so this Cyrus guy is so evil that it even infected his truck. The swamp became his tomb and he went dormant for 40 some years. What woke him?”

“The start of construction, or in this case destruction on the house, it can awaken the spirits and make them restless.” Sam answered. “It went after the Mayor, who tore down the house and kept Cyrus’ murder quiet.”

Continuing to face away from the boys you ask with a grimace, “Does this mean we have to dredge the swamp for him?”

“Yep, you ready to go swimming?” Dean responds with a sarcastic tone.

Deciding to ignore him, you stay in your position until you hear Cassie telling Dean her mom is asleep, and wanting to know what is happening next. Turning around quickly you respond “No way in hell is she coming with us.”

Dean glares at you before leaning down and talking to Cassie. You really didn’t want to know what he was saying, mostly because you don’t believe your heart can handle it. It gets even worse when Cassie smiles at him and leans up to start kissing him. It hurts knowing what happened between them last night, but having it play out right in front of you, torture. You quickly get in the backseat and slam the door so you won’t be forced to see or hear anything else.

Sam opens his door saying something to Dean as he gets in. “Y/N, I’m so sorry.” You just nod and stare out the window, tears once again falling.

When Dean finally slides in the car you keep your focus to the side, never sparing him a glance. There are a few moments you can almost feel him looking at you.

“You know, you didn’t have to be so rude to her. She’s had a stressful night.” He breaks the silence in the car.

You never acknowledged his comment, and the two brothers began working on a plan to dredge the swamp.

Thankfully there is still a tractor on the property where they have been working on repairs. The boys manage to get a chain hooked on the truck and the tractor pulls it up. You are standing near the Impala out of the way, since they didn’t seem to need your help at the moment. After Sam is satisfied the truck was far enough out of the water to work on, Dean shuts the tractor off and gets down making his way over to the Impala. Sam follows behind.

“Now I know what she sees in you.”

“What?” Dean responds, rummaging through the back of the trunk.

“Come on man, you can admit you’re still in love with her.” Really Sam? Did he forget you were standing right here? You didn't need him to add salt to the wound too.

“Can we focus on this please?”

“Fine, what do we need out?”

“Gas, flashlight, lighters.”

“Got ‘em.”

“Alright, let’s finish this.” Dean shuts the trunk, looking over at you, and they head to the cab of the truck. When he opens the door, what you believe was once Cyrus falls out. They set to work salting and burning him. They haven’t needed or spoken to you, so you remained leaning on the driver’s side of the Impala. You hear Sam ask after a short time, if that should do it. You all have your answer seconds later when the ghost truck appears.

“I’m guessing that’s a no Sam.” Dean answers his brother.

“So burning the body had no effect on that thing?”

“Sure it did. Now it’s really pissed, and at us.”

“But Cyrus’ ghost is gone, right Dean?”

You begin walking toward the guys when Dean starts walking back to the Impala. “Apparently not the part that’s fused with the truck.”

“Wait, where are you going?” Sam calls out.

“We are goin’ for a drive. Gonna lead that thing away from here. You gotta burn that busted piece of crap.” Passing you Dean grabs your arm and pulls you with him back to the Impala.

“How the hell am I supposed to burn a truck, Dean?”

“I should help Sam.” It’s the first time you have spoken since you arrived here.

“I don’t know, figure something out,” Dean answers his brother, turning to you he just growls out “No.”

Dean threw something at Sam and you could hear him muttering behind you as Dean pushes you in the door and over to the passenger seat. Throwing Baby in reverse, he speeds off through the property and down the road. The ghost truck is quick to follow. You don’t think you have ever been in a car with someone going this fast. He pulls out his phone and dialing a number puts it on speaker.

“Hey, you gotta give me a minute,” Sam’s voice comes over the line.

“We don’t have a minute! What are we doing?” Dean is shouting at him.

“Ahh, let me get back to you.” You couldn’t believe Sam hung up on you guys at a time like this.

“Get back to me?” Dean is muttering next to you.

It is a tense few minutes until Dean’s phone rings, you are praying Sam has a way to end this.

“Answer it,” Dean tells you.

You answer it and put it on speaker so Dean could hear his brother.

“All, right Dean?”

“This better be good.”

“Where are you?”

“In the middle of freaking nowhere, with a killer truck on my ass! It’s like it knows I put the torch to Cyrus.”

“Listen, this is important. I have to know exactly where you are.”

“Decatur Road,” you fill in, seeing the passing sign.

“About two miles off the highway,” Dean adds.

“Headed East?”

“YES!” Dean yells, just before the truck rams into the back of the Impala sending it skidding. He fights to get the car back under control. “You Son of a bitch!”

Trying to hold tight you shut your eyes for a moment, feeling the Impala flying down the road underneath you. This is so not how you saw your life ending.

“Turn right, turn right, just up ahead.” Dean quickly makes the turn as Sam asks if he did so.

“Yeah, I made it, we need to move this along a little faster.”

“Alright, do you see a road up ahead?”

“No! Wait, no ah yes.” The truck is catching up and almost on the Impala’s left side now trying to run you all off the road.

“Turn left.” Dean had to hit the brakes in order to turn which had the truck sailing past. After you turn, go seven tenths of a mile and then stop.”

Did he say stop? Sam can’t seriously want you to stop with that truck so close can he?

“Stop?” Apparently, Dean feels the same.

“Yes, at exactly seven tenths.”

Dean is watching the speedometer closely, reaching his destination he spun the car around and moved to where Sam had wanted. Looking around, you are surrounded by the remains of an old building. The truck suddenly appears on the road in front of you. Sam comes over the line asking if Dean is still there and what was happening. Dean tells him it is just staring at you both, and Sam wants the truck to just come to you. When the truck revs its engine and suddenly comes barreling toward the Impala you see Dean grab the steering wheel as you close your eyes and hold tight to the seat preparing for the hit. It suddenly goes quiet and slowly opening your eyes you notice Dean looking around, but neither of you see the truck anywhere.

Sam’s voice comes from the phone, “You still there? Guys?”

“Where’d it go?” You ask, not really sure what happened.

“I don’t know.” Dean is just as confused as you.

“You guys are where the church was.”

“What church Sam! There isn’t much here.” Dean was a little on edge and wanting answers.

“The one Cyrus burned down, and all those kids died. The church is hallowed ground, whether the church is still there or not. Evil spirits cross over hallowed ground, and sometimes they’re destroyed. So I figured, maybe, that would get rid of it.”

Listening to Sam, Dean is nodding his head along before suddenly stopping, “Wait, maybe? Did you say maybe? What if you were wrong?”

“Huh. Honestly that thought hadn’t occurred to me.”

Dean hangs up on his brother mimicking Sam’s last sentence before threatening to kill him.

The drive back to Sam is rather quiet, both of you reflecting on your recent near miss. The inside of the truck is salted and lit on fire. Dean is in the tractor with water in the bucket from the swamp if the fire gets out of hand. The remains of the truck are pushed back into the swamp.

The three of you head back to the hotel to get cleaned up. Looking back over tonight and the past couple of days you have come to a decision on your future. Even with your lives on the line, Dean has barely spoken six words to you all night long, that tells you where you rank to him.

You're the last one to shower, probably because you had done the least amount of work tonight. The sun is starting to rise, and the boys want to get out of town before anyone says something about what they may have seen last night.

Checking the room one last time, you are sure nothing is left behind. You have already searched through the Impala, and retrieved your favorite gun and knife from the trunk. Dean has gone to grab breakfast for the road, but Sam has an idea of what you were doing and silently watches you going over the room.

He speaks up after a few minutes, “I want you to know, I’m really going to miss you. My brother’s a major idiot.”

You go over to hug the giant. “I’m going to miss you too Sam, keep in touch when you can. Good luck finding your dad, I’m sorry I can’t go along with you anymore. If you need me to look into anything on the downlow, shoot me a message. Take care of yourself, and that moron too.”

As you pick up your duffel and backpack he speaks up again. “You too. Where are you headed?”

“I don’t know.”

“Dean will be back in a minute, we can drop you off at the bus stop, just wait.” Halfway through his sentence the motel door opens and in walks the other brother. Sam is slightly relieved, he is hoping now that the case is over Dean will have calmed down and can talk you out of leaving.

“Why are we going to the bus stop?” He questions.

“I’m going to the bus stop, you don’t need to.”

“What are you doing there?”

“Leaving Dean,” he stares at you with a bewildered expression.

“Oh, so you’re not over being a little bitch, huh? I thought you didn’t desert the people you care about, guess that was wrong, or maybe you don’t really care about us?”

“I don’t stay where I’m not wanted Dean! You don’t want my help, and your life doesn’t concern me, ring a bell? I’m leaving so I won’t interfere with your life anymore, and you can go screw whoever you want, without hearing any comments from me.”

“How many times do I have to tell you to grow up! Just get in the car, no need to throw a hissy fit.”

“You wanted me gone, I'm leaving.”

“Then don’t come crying back!”

“Dean! Stop!” This isn’t going the way Sam was hoping it would, not at all.

You turn your back on the only man you ever truly cared about, took a deep breath, closed your eyes and willed the tears away till you could walk out of the room. Passing Sam you give him one last side hug, ruffle up his shaggy hair, and tell him to take care as you walk out of the room and the Winchesters’ lives.

“What the hell is her problem lately?” Dean looks to his brother to explain your recent behavior.

Sam turns at him in complete shock, before explaining. “You are Dean! Man, you are a bigger idiot than I thought. She’s been in love with you for years, your best friend for almost twenty years. You threw all that away for some chick you spent a few weeks with years ago, who then turned her back on you. We both know Y/N has never been like this before, something was really bothering her. You could have just talked to her and asked why she was behaving this way, but you just kept yelling at her, and throwing Cassie in her face.”

Dean is frozen in place, staring at the door hearing Sam’s words. He’d been harboring feelings for you for years, but didn’t believe you would ever see him like that. You deserve so much better than him, he is just going to drag you down. So he has one night stands to try and take his mind off you for a little while. You two had gotten even closer when he almost died on the last hunt, he didn’t want to face the hurt of you rejecting him if he said something. Instead he saw Cassie’s call as a distraction, a way to push his feelings away again, that’s all. He remembered what she did, how you put him back together. He knew he should have kept this case professional and was fighting internally with himself the whole time, that’s why he kept snapping at you. In the end, he didn’t think you would actually leave. He should know better, everyone leaves him.

“She can’t leave.” It takes him a moment, but he rushes out the door to make you come back inside. Looking around Dean doesn’t see you anywhere.

“It’s too late, you really hurt her, Dean. Now, you have to let her go,” Sam tells him from the doorway.

Punching the roof of the Impala, Dean slides down next to it on the pavement. Head in his hands, he realizes he finally pushed too far, he hurt you, and now he lost you.

Thank you for reading!

Part 3 coming soon

Taglist-@winchest09 @flamencodiva @whatareyousearchingfordean @waywardbeanie

@deanwanddamons @emoryhemsworth @atc74 @sandlee44

@akshi8278 @fantasydevil2002 @writercole @440mxs-wife

@nervousfandom @lunarmoon8 @thoughts-and-funnies @katelyn–renee

@lyarr24 @pineapleavocado @siospins2 @deans-spinster-witch

@ariesbabe1993 @graciebear73 @stixnstripesworld @spnbaby-67

@treat-winchesterswith-kindness @charmed-asylum @winchestergirl2 @jawritter

@hobby27 @amyzombie1013 @sexyvixen7 @leigh70

@krazykelly @nancymcl @candy-coated-misery0731

@kmc1989 @supraveng @hearteyes-j2

#supernatural #dean x female!reader #dean angst #dean x reader #dean winchester

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lovestruckkkk · 1 year ago

Text

A Puppet, An Ally, A Lover — The Emperor x Tav

Tags: basically just a draft but i decided to share, not proof read much, pretty fluffy and vanilla (sometimes garlic), tried to make the emperor as non ooc as possible, he/him pronouns for the Emperor, gender neutral tav, empy sends you a letter <3

Tav is either partially illithid or not illithid at all.

wordcount: 1297

also available on ao3!

"What was the true nature of your relationship with the Emperor?

Was he as manipulative as he could possibly be?

Or did he have at least some genuine feelings towards you?

Well. Time to reflect a little."

enjoy, loves 💓

The Emperor treasured your alliance, and your relationship, well. The two of you worked wonders in multiple ways - your human form, although still sometimes seen flawed by the Emperor, has been a great help when he, as a mind flayer, couldn't possibly accomplish the things that you can. That especially included working with people - his previous alliance with Stelmane led him to believe that being so open with his actions was dangerous. And when some people needed proper persuasion you came into the picture. Ever eloquent, ever successful. It felt as if, given enough time, the two of you could conquer the city. His city.

But while that was important, it wasn't the main thing.

You two enjoyed each other.

You weren't too quiet about your affection towards him, not like you could be anyway - he's a mind flayer, after all, - but it was much harder to sense his. He was ever-alert, wary of jumping to conclusions, but not blind to his own genuine caring for you. But yes of course, admitting it took a lot of time from his side. You were ready for that - it, well, comes with the package.

It took time, but the Emperor finally made peace with the fact that you didn't want a full-blown ceremorphosis. After all, there was no guarantee that you would remain your present self.

Yet it's hard to deny one's nature. You weren't exactly the prey, and he wasn't exactly the predator, but it was somewhere in the air. A distant thought, a tiny hint of something alarming in the back of your mind.

And maybe you were smitten, but you weren't stupid, you weren't naive. The Emperor could sense your light anxiety on the matter, he even brought it up in conversation, but you both knew no matter how honeyed his words are - the nature of your relationship is just... Is what it is.

Until you just trusted. For when you cannot know - you trust, right?

So you did. It took effort. It took strength. Forgiving him his past half-truths, discounting his manipulative nature. Believing that something within him actually feels something.

And yes, it's hard to deny one's nature. But possible.

At least to an extent. While The Emperor valued your presence, he couldn't stop being a creature that longs for finding new ways to hold the reigns. That's why you staying in your humanoid form took less time for him to make peace with. He knows an opportunity when he sees one.

But he was thankful for your trust. And he always showed you how he was feeling - except for those times when it was already obvious. He thanked you, he commented on your worries, he comforted you, he tried being more honest about what troubles him, too. Not as a part of manipulation, but as a part of securing an alliance.

But of course it all was deeper than just a stupid alliance.

You were lovers. You did your best to understand each other - it was easier for him to do, and harder for you. But you tried. You wanted to understand so bad. And what is it to love - if not to want to understand?

He saw it. All of it. And he was thankful. He repayed you for your efforts and always helped in indulging your curiosity. And he couldn't fight his rising affection towards you for long, - your genuine care swayed him easily, but gently - like autumn leaves carressed by gentle blow of the wind.

It was odd, to see how easy and effortless things became once you actually trusted each other. Odd because - how can two creatures that are so different turn out to be so alike? But all the pieces were falling into place. It felt natural, albeit actually being extravagantly unnatural.

You embraced it, both of you. And it didn't take long for your relationship to bloom into something invaluable. Something treasured. It was discreet, it wasn't loud, your care for each other felt like a sacred secret, yet when there were people around they always sensed it. Your affection had its own gravity field.

Well, of course it was different when someone wanted something from you. Or especially when someone went out of their way to hurt you.

As respectful and as aware of your talents as he were, the Emperor grew very impatient by the minute when someone wanted to harm you. It was happening more often as your relationship became deeper. He would unlikely ever admit it out loud, but he was possessive. You knew it. And... It felt nice.

And you were protective of him, too. You never let anyone, except those he trusted, find out his true identity. And never let anyone disrespect him for who he is. It was always that same feeling of building up rage that your Emperor had later always calmed down. He would say:

They don't understand. It's fine. Let them.

After all, no matter what they say about him, it could never undo all the precious moments you get to have together. Your conversations have always been interesting, you enjoyed how complex and deep his knowledge of things was. He enjoyed how open-minded and unorthodox your opinions and approaches were. You complimented each other perfectly. It's exactly why he is assured that the two of you are indestructible together.

The mental connection that you shared was also something absolutely remarkable. It feels like nothing would ever be able to sever it. You just knew each other. Inside and out.

And there's physical connection too, of course. It felt like an extension of how your minds connected - you touched each other in desperation, trying to find new ways to connect even more, to become one.

Few of your former companions understood your relationship with the Emperor. But, in his own words, you let them misunderstand. It was fine. They didn't have to get it.

At the reunion party that was so thoughtfully arranged by Withers, you were alone. But it did take about a tenday to get to the place, so your Emperor sent you a letter to greet you when you arrive. For you to read at the party. He knew you would miss him. And he was right of course. He missed you too.

"My beloved,

I hope this letter finds you well, and you've successfully reacquainted yourself with your former friends. Send them my regards. I am writing this letter about a few days since your departure - I hope the pigeons delivered it in one piece, knowing how troublesome they can be.

I do not particularly enjoy written form of communication, but given the distance between us, I will allow it. I must admit your absence is something I cannot shake off lightly - so I decided to write you this letter to remind you that I am patiently awaiting your return.

Things over here are in order. I am continuing my search for allies who could potentially help us restore The Knights of the Shield. I hope I will have better news and actual results to share upon your return.

Enjoy your time celebrating. You deserve it. And please remember I will always be waiting for you.

Unwaveringly yours,

The Emperor"

Oh, how you wished that he was here. He deserved it just as much. After everything he did for the lot of you, even if it was mainly because your interests simply aligned, he deserved to be here. But your companions could disagree.

Yet no matter how much you wished for him to be here, he's somewhere else. Right now you get to enjoy your time with your friends - and you're not going to miss out on the opportunity.

But you already count the days until the two of you reunite once again.

#soup for seafood lovers (squid)#i feel like i'm crazier about him than i should be #the emperor x tav #the emperor bg3 #the emperor x reader bg3 #the emperor x reader #the emperor x tav bg3 #baldur's gate 3 the emperor #the emperor baldur's gate 3

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uceyliyahh · 7 months ago

Text

SOMETHING BOUT’ US

Summary: "I want you more than anything in my life." After being in a difficult relationship with Carmelo Yasmine decided to move on from him and become the next big thing while getting drafted on the smackdown roster she always thought she would never find love again due to her commitment issues until she met him.

This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED

word count: 3792

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso x Yasmine

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic

@hunnidmilly @celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @justazzi

OMNISCIENT Yasmine was using the ropes to practice some new movements on the mat that was set up in the ring at the performance facility. When she noticed that he and Liv were talking to one other once more, she distanced herself from everyone, which caused her and Jey's relationship to deteriorate once more. She heard Liv laughing behind her as she saw her approach Yasmine just as she was ready to jump off the ropes.

"Well, well, if it ain't Miss little Yasmine," Liv remarked while Yasmine folded her arms across her chest and perched on the ropes.

Yasmine rolled her eyes at her while sighing, "What'chu want?" Her eyes watched Liv skipping around the ring.

"Oh, nothing, just putting it out there that Jey is my man now and not yours since you can't keep a man from putting their hands on you; I mean, what does Jey want with a broken girl like yourself?" Liv's words instantly broke her as she landed her feet on the ground after climbing down the ropes.

Liv winced in agony as she approached her and grabbed her by the hair.

As she left the performance area, Yasmine said, "Look here bitch, you don't know anything about my past with Melo, so I would advise you to keep your fucking mouth shut," and then violently pushed Liv to the ground.

She walked out the door, got into her car, and drove to the arena for tonight's smackdown with tears streaming down her cheeks. Going through the same pattern—the same pattern she had when she was with Carmelo—she felt like a moron once more, expecting that Jey wouldn't be like him, but she was mistaken once more.

The night he "confessed" his love for her after she did, when they were done making love to each other, Jey was in the shower, forgetting that his phone was right there. She heard his phone vibrate.

When she picked it up, she saw that Liv had texted him some freaky messages and some attachments, and she knew that she had made a mistake at some point and had forgiven him so easily.

That's when she had put his phone back to where it was putting on her clothes while heading back towards her hotel room, not even speaking to Jey about the matter.

Because she knew that he wasn't going to tell the truth.

✧˚° YASMINE I finally made it to the arena, turning off my car while opening the door and grabbing my bags before heading in. Ever since I saw those messages again on his phone, I have felt like a dummy, and I have flashbacks of when Carmelo did this to me.

My brother would've probably been pissed off if he had found out about what Jey had that did, even though they were homies; Jonathan could've warned me about Jey, honestly.

I guess that's what brothers are for, right? As I was walking towards my locker room, I saw him talking with his brother, probably about the segment they had for tonight.

I didn't look his way as I walked past them and toward my locker room, but I overheard something before I could open the door.

"Dawg, you need to stop hurting Yasmine. Do you know what Montez would do to you if he found out?"

"I'm not hurting her; she knows that we are only friends with benefits—"

"Stop denying the fact that you are in love with her, Jey; Liv doesn't have enough aura like she does as your big brother. I'm saying you need to fucking choose and grow a pair,"

I smirked while snickering a little bit before heading inside of my locker room and placing my bag on the couch while sitting down.

I was glad that his big brother Jonathan had more common sense than Jey, and I was happy that he was sticking up for me, knowing how dumb his brother was.

As I glanced up at the TV, Cole and Graves were discussing what had transpired at Crown Jewel and my victory in the final. I had to get ready for my speech on the subject tonight because I did have a part in the ring. In the meantime, I decided to prepare for my interview with Cathy about winning the championship.

After I finished getting ready, I walked out of my locker room with my belt over my waist as I went towards Cathy, seeing the cameraman over there.

Her eyes followed my direction as she smiled at me while giving me a hug in the process.

"Girl, you look honestly amazing tonight. So, how do you feel about doing that segment knowing Liv might be there to ruin it?" Cathy asked as I shrugged my shoulders.

"If I'm being honest with you, Cat, it's going to be difficult to keep things professional because she'll try to dig up something from my past that only I and my family know about," I said as she rubbed my arms.

"I think you'll handle it well out there, okay?" I nodded my head, feeling that sense of relief.

The cameras started to roll as me and Cathy got into our position for my interview.

✧˚° I was in the gorilla waiting for my music to cue while holding the women's championship over my shoulders when I saw Jonathan coming in.

"How are you holding up?" He asked.

"Mentally, I'm lost right now, but I'm pushing through it, you know," I replied.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Jey. He's so fucking stupid sometimes I question his character, but I know you're a great person, Minks," that made me smile at him knowing how supportive Jonathan was along with Trin.

That's when my music began playing. I got back into character as I walked out, the gorilla, hearing the crowd cheering for me singing my song.

I blew kisses at them, signed their custom signs, and slapped their hands as I skipped down toward the ring. When I finally made it down to the ring, I got on top of the ropes, sitting on them.

I flipped over the ropes while grabbing my title and a mic that one of the workers gave me as my music went off.

I heard the crowd say I deserved it, which made my heart flutter, knowing how much I loved them dearly.

"Yes, I did. I did deserve it." I said.

"But honestly, though, I feel like there are some things that I need to get off my chest." Before I could finish my sentence, Liv's music started playing, and I sighed while rolling my eyes.

"Yasmine...honey... please, girl. The only thing you need to worry about is your mental health deteriorating, Hon," Liv said as she continued on.

"You see, everyone only likes you because you came from NXT without knowing your past, but I know your past, so I'm going to spill it out for everyone to hear in the arena." I felt a lump in my throat, praying in my head that I wouldn't get out of character about what she was going to say.

"Minks? Is that what they call you? Well, you're nothing but a broken girl who was in an abusive relationship with a man who didn't want anything to do with you, and now you're drafted here doing the same thing, trying to "find love" for a man who doesn't want you but wants me instead," She said while doing her annoying laughter.

"Especially what happened in that locker room and what he did to you,"

"Nobody back there shouldn't feel bad for you because you've honestly deserved it; no man wants to deal with a girl that can't even have a commitment or trust issues in the relationship just seems unlikely if you ask me," I kept myself together not wanting to bawl my eyes out in front of everyone.

"Jey doesn't even want you; you may be a pretty girl, but he's only using you for what he wants, and he always comes back to me," Liv said as she with a cocky smile on her face.

That's when I got up in her face along with the mic in my hand before speaking, "You're honestly a bitch digging up somebody's past when you can't keep a man yo' damn self. Whatever happened to Dom, huh? Did he leave you for Tiffany? So now you're trying to get a train run on you?" I remarked, catching her bluff.

"Next time you wanna speak on my past, how about you worry about yours instead bitch, instead of worrying about what I got going on with myself," that's she pushed me harshly, causing me to stumble back a bit as she tried to come up on me.

But I immediately dropped down to the floor as I gave her a spear, hearing a groan escape her lips.

"SPEAR! SPEAR! Yasmine just gave Liv Morgan a Spear!"

"Where did she learn that from?"

"USO!!!"

That's when I heard his music popping off, and I saw him running down the ramp, sliding inside the ring. Checking on Liv, forgetting about me, that's when I knew that he made his decision, knowing that this was all an act, but by the time this was over, he'd probably still be with her.

I just chuckled while rolling out from the ring, heading towards the gorilla. I felt this overwhelming emotion, seeing Jonathan still there watching the whole thing unfold. He saw me coming in the gorilla, so I ran up to him, giving him a tight hug, as my tears began to flow down my cheeks.

"It's okay Minks we are here for you, she had no right; no fucking right to expose that to the world," Jonathan reassured me as he kept patting me on the back.

I couldn't believe that everyone knows about what happened between me and Carmelo. It just really hurt, and what hurt the most was seeing him comfort her instead of me.

I pulled away from Jonathan, wiping the rest of my tears from my face, as he kept reassuring me.

I began to walk towards my locker until I felt Carmelo pull me by the wrist, slapping me across the face, which I held.

"You telling people about what happened in our relationship?! Now people are looking at me weirdly!" He lashed out at me.

"You're a horrible person, Melo! You literally fucking RAPED ME IN MY LOCKER ROOM AND EXPECT ME TO FORGET ABOUT THAT?!" I shouted back at him as I saw Jonathan and everyone else coming to see what was happening.

"MAYBE IF YOU DIDN'T ACT LIKE A FUCKING BRAT, I WOULDN'T HAVE DONE THAT TO YOU, BUT HEY, MAYBE YOU NEEDED THAT LESSON...." I had enough of hearing this shit I was going to walk up on him until I felt two pair of strong arms around my waist stopping me in my tracks.

When I turned around, I saw Jey behind me shaking his head, telling me it was not worth it to lose my job over Carmelo. I pushed him off of me, giving him a stern look.

"I-I don't need you to tell me that! I-I..." I was going to lose my mind as I began to run away to my locker room hearing Jey calling for me but I just ignored him.

I panicked and locked the door, packing my belongings and placing my title in the bag. As I exited my locker room, I zipped it up and put it over my shoulders.

When that happened, I heard him calling for me again. I heard his footsteps as I began to walk towards the exit. He grabbed me by the arm, stopping me.

"Mamas, please wait..." He begged as I yanked my arm away from him.

My voice cracked as I cried out, "No, no, Josh, I will not wait for you to manipulate me and then leave me for her again. I have had enough." I said.

As I began to depart from him, I sensed him grasping me by the waist and placing his lips upon mine. I was reluctant to kiss him back, but I had no control over my own body as I kissed him back.

His tongue swirled around within my mouth while I moaned softly, sensing him grasping me by the thighs and leading me towards my vehicle.

He positioned me on top of my trunk, firmly ensnaring me with his hands, assuring that I would remain stationary. Subsequently, I regained my composure and disengaged from him.

"I'm not falling for this anymore, Josh; you don't know who you want..."

"But I do, though, baby...it's you; you the only person that I want—" I scoffed in disbelief, folding my arms in the process.

"You don't, Josh. You're just using me as a rebound. Maybe Liv was right. Maybe I don't deserve you...since I'm not well put together." I got up from my trunk, opened the door, and threw my bags in the backseat.

"Minks...that's not true..."

"Oh, but it is Josh..." I said nonchalantly as I got inside my car, started the ignition switch, and looked at him one last time before driving off.

I had tears flowing down my cheeks, as I couldn't even see the road anymore. I felt hopeless, wondering if I was good enough for anybody at this point.

I have never felt so embarrassed in my life. Is life worth living anymore? Do I mean something to anybody anymore?

While crying my heart out, I didn't even pay attention for a split second, seeing that I had almost hit a tree, causing me to swerve and feeling the car spinning around as I couldn't control the wheel.

The car had flipped over multiple times, and I felt that sense of relief, knowing that I could finally be at peace, feeling blood coming from my head and lips.

I have wanted this ever since that situation happened to me in my locker room. I heard a lot of people coming, trying to see what was happening.

That's when everything went black.

✧˚° JONATHAN I texted Yasmine, trying to see where she was at and hoping that she was okay because I could tell that her energy was off. That's when I saw Trinity running up to me, panicking. I could see tears coming down her face, which had me worried.

"Trin, baby, calm down. Talk to me. What happened?" I asked.

"I-it's..Y-Yasmine...S-she..." She was stumbling on her words, which I tried to make out.

"Baby, breathe in and out for me, okay? What happened to Yasmine?"

She calmed herself down before speaking, "She's in the hospital right now. She got into a bad accident Jon...I'm so fucking worried about her..." What she said badly spooked me as I grabbed my keys and told her to come on so that we could head to the hospital.

I managed to grab our things before heading out the door, and that's when I saw Jey walking up on us.

"Where is ya'll heading?" He asked.

I was hesitant to tell him about Yasmine and her current situation, knowing that she probably didn't want to see him anyways.

"We gotta go; it's an emergency, Uce. I'll text you later," I said as I held Trinity's hand as I walked towards our car.

I knew lying to him would be bad, given their history together, but that didn't matter. I'm only doing this for Yasmine's sake. If she wants to see him, she'll give me the word, but for right now, we have to make sure that she's alright.

We finally made it to the hospital, and I went up to the nurse and asked about Yasmine. She told us that she was in room 168. We thanked her as Trin, and I went toward her room.

When we opened the door we seen her all bandage up with stitches on her lips, she looked towards our way smiling weakly.

"Oh my fucking God, Yasmine!" Trinity shouted.

"I was...hoping that I didn't make it...Trin...I don't know how much I can take...." She said weakly.

"Hey...don't say that, Minks...we are here for you throughout all of it..." Trinity Hugged her gently as I saw tears coming down her face.

I felt so bad for her. She's going through so much, wanting to and hoping that her life was taken away by that car accident just broke me as her friend.

She was going through it mentally. I wanted to punch my brother so severely upside his head, but I shook that feeling off, going towards Yasmine and comforting her along with my wife.

Yasmine was speaking negatively about herself: "I don't wanna be here anymore guys; I can't, especially things happening with Jey and Liv him playing in my face, including me getting raped...I don't know what more I can take." It broke me and Trin's hearts hearing that from her. I wanted to blame Jey so badly, but initially, it was Melo's fault for doing what he did; Jey just added more fuel to the situation.

"Stop it...Minks, don't say that, please. We want you here, including your brother and Bianca. We care about you," I said as she smiled at us.

I knew Montez probably heard what happened to his sister and was going to be pissed off to the max, including at Jey, since he thought he could trust him with her.

That's when I felt my phone vibrating, seeing that Jey had texted me.

TwinJey🩸 sent two messages.

IMESSAGE 💬 TwinJey🩸: I heard what happened to Yasmine where is yall at? Jonathan: Now it's not a great time to come Uce TwinJey🩸: Tf you mean by that? Jonathan: she's going through it right now Uce and ion think she wants to see you at the moment TwinJey🩸: Did she say that? Or are you refusing me to come see her Jonathan: No she didn't say it but the way she is speaking negatively about herself saids a lot and Yes I'm refusing you to see her TwinJey🩸: Fuck that I'm coming to see her idc what yo' ass is talking about Jonathan: I'm not letting you see her Jey what can you do? TwinJey🩸: I'm the only person that can calm her down she said herself that I'm her peacemaker Jonathan: well you aren't anymore Uce I told yo' stupid ass not to play in her face with that whore Liv when you know Minks have commitment issues and trust issues due to her situation but ig you forgot about that after fucking her for months. 😒 TwinJey🩸: Minks? When did you start calling her that? That's not important I'm coming either way I have every right. Jonathan: I will have them throw yo' ass out if you show up. TwinJey🩸: Mane fuck you

I left him on read feeling frustrated because I didn't want her to see my brother at all after what he did. Trinity came up to me to see if I was alright. I showed her the message between Me and Jey as she looked over at Yasmine.

"W-what?" Yasmine questioned.

"Jey is trying to come see you since he heard that you were in here. I don't know if you want to see him," I said, seeing her look down.

"I don't want to see him until I'm ready, Jon. Please keep him away until I'm ready." I nodded my head, responding to his text message.

Jonathan: Look Uce Yasmine said she doesn't want to see you until shes ready that's coming from her TwinJey🩸: I'm already otw to see her Jonathan: Turn tf back around like now I'm not finna get out of character because of yo' ass I already want to punch you in yo' fucking head for toying with her like do you not understand what Montez would do to you if he heard that his best friend used his little sister? TwinJey🩸: I TOLD YOU THAT I LOVE HER I LOVE YASMINE TO DEATH Jonathan: lose that fucking tone of yours and if you did she wouldn't be in this position right now...but I don't blame you; you're partially responsible for this it's honestly Melo's fault for doing what he did to her. TwinJey🩸: wym? Jonathan: you didn't hear what yo' girlfriend said tonight in that ring? How Carmelo raped Yasmine in her locker room before getting drafted onto the blue brand? Or was you to worried about getting some pussy? TwinJey🩸: Fuck you and no I didn't know that happened to her... Jonathan: Go home Jey honestly...I'm not finna argue with you tonight Me and Trin have to worry about Yasmine right now

I sighed, going back to check up on Yasmine. Seeing that she was sleeping, I told Trin to go home for the night and that I'd watch her until Montez came.

She kissed me on the lips before heading out. I turned on the TV next to the table and began watching a movie.

I looked over at my friend, sleeping soundly as the monitor was beeping. I prayed to God that he wouldn't show up because it would just cause issues.

But all my thoughts were interrupted when I heard banging on the door. I know that bang. I cursed under my breath, getting up from the couch while looking through the peephole and seeing Jey standing there.

'Fuck bro, I told his ass not to come, especially when she said she didn't want to see him.'

I opened the door slightly, seeing him standing there, trying to push through. I managed to slip through the crack, shutting the door behind me while giving him a stern look.

I pushed him harshly, getting up in his face.

"What the fuck are you doing here? I told yo' ass bro I fucking told you," I rasped.

I saw him clenching his teeth before cranking his neck, "And I told you that I was coming, either way, to see her now move out of the way," I refused as I pushed him harshly, causing him to stumble back a bit, which nurses took notice of that.

He ran up to me, grabbing me up by the hem of my shirt, feeling all of his anger coming onto me. I picked him up and slammed her down on the ground while getting on top of him and punching his head in.

We switched places as he did the same with me I end up shielding myself from his hits as I pushed him off of me giving him a right hook to the cheek.

That's when we saw the cops coming to break us up, and I saw blood dripping down his face.

"Yo,' ass never listen. She said she didn't want to see you until she was ready!" I shouted at him.

"Fuck you!" he shouted back as the cops dragged him out of the hospital.

I went back inside the room, still seeing Yasmine sleeping. I felt myself Yawning and getting tired as I turned off the TV and the lights.

I got comfortable with an extra blanket that was nearby, reclined the chair back, and drifted off to sleep.

SOMETHING BOUT' US

A/n: I hate how Yasmine is going through this...and Liv had no right to speak on her situation, but will that effect that Yasmine have on Jey change him?

But I hope yall enjoy this double update lmk in the comments below.

STAY UCEY.

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