#I warn you that I have built them thinking about placing fake buildings next to the lots
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Slowly turning Ciudad Enamorada into La Habana
#ts4#sims 4#the sims 4#sims 4 screenshots#sims 4 build#ts4 screenshots#ts4 simblr#I've been converting some buildings (32 to be exact) from Cities Skylines and I'm exhausted#and I still have a lot of them to convert :')#this build is going to be a restaurant#In my head it was a store with an apartment on the top floor converted into a restaurant#btw#will any of you want some of this builds for download?#I warn you that I have built them thinking about placing fake buildings next to the lots#so they may not fit into your game if you don't have the world redecorated like me
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Always (2)
Pair: Azriel x Reader
Word Count: 1.7k
Warnings: Language (?) and angst
Summary: Y/n takes some time to reflect on the decision she needs to make and confronts Azriel.
A/N: Ask and you shall receive, I tagged those of you who asked for a part 2. Let me know what you think <3
Also available on Wattpad and AO3
Masterlist - Part 1
You were gone. No one had heard from you for a whole 2 weeks and to say they were confused was an understatement. One second you were laughing along with them, wine drunk with Azriel by your side helping you stay steady enough to watch the stars fall, and the next you had given them no sign of life. Azriel could feel from the bond that you were in fact alive, you just needed your space and so that was what he told the others.
He left out the part that he had royally fucked up in his delivery but you hadn't given him the chance to explain himself, you had always known when something was wrong and as closed off as he might be, you were the only one who could read him like a book.
You closed yourself off in your apartment, and when you were in need of fresh air you went out for a walk by the sidra, you tried out new places that were opening up around Velaris. Everything and anything to keep your mind off of him no matter how much you needed to way out your options.
You were engaged. To Eris of all fae. Eris was your sister's fiancee once upon a time too, not that you wanted him in the first place. You couldn't help but think that Mor's tragic history was now your plot line.
You and Eris worked together to infiltrate Keir's secrets in the court of nightmares, your father trusted him and because you allowed yourself to be under his control, the result was your betrothal to the heir of the Autumn Court. It worked in everyone's favor, though when you had told the rest of your family it had not gone over so well. Mor couldn't be in the same room as you- much less you and Eris- for months.
Eventually, you had opened up on the advantages it would serve, Eris was already allied with the night court privately now no one in the court of nightmares could suspect your deception. It was a whole twisted mess of double-crossings.
You and Eris teamed up as a couple pretending to be spying on the inner circle and feeding false information to the enemy while in reality, you were spying on your father, giving Rhysand everything. It was enough to give you a headache. Now adding Azriel into the mix- Would ruin everything you worked so hard to build.
All these years of faking your loyalty and devotion to your father with everything he has done to you and your sister so that you can be the eyes and ears in places your high lord cannot, the one goal in your ruse was to be free of him without breaking what you built. Eris was the way to do that, he was technically on your side and you've spoken of the past, he was a handsome male that could please you just fine.
It didn't matter that he wasn't the one you wanted because, for all you knew at the time, the one you longed for's heart, beat for someone else.
You had never known Azriel to be selfish but lately, he had made it a new habit that you weren't so sure about. How dare he? How dare he do this to you!
The audacity of this man! Azriel would cost you everything and you would pay for it, willingly. He hadn't needed to speak for you to know what he wanted from you.
What you would have given to have him reach for you the way he did that night. The way you pined for him, in your 500 years of living your heart beat for no other male. Fae, Illyrian, both, human, even High Lord at one point. No one could compare to Azriel. Your mind, body, and soul were are his. However, it was time you gave up your unofficial claim on him he wasn't yours nor you his- or so you thought.
Nothing would become of this childish infatuation you grew accustomed to. And so you worked to keep your thoughts on your future without him, a future you knew where Azriel would find someone who would love him.
A century later and here you were, clutching your chest to keep from the panic crawling up your throat.
If only this had happened sooner-
Before it got so messy before you accepted Eris' proposal and appeared before your father claimed your hand. He so eagerly accepted, his hunger for power clear in his eyes, so blind for it that he's unaware of the upper hand you and your soon-to-be husband have.
If only he had loved you when you didn't have all these responsibilities that a relationship- mateship with him would tear down.
After a week of shutting yourself out, you spoke to Eris. He knew all about your feelings for Azriel and though he was jealous, you were his- at the time. When you told him you needed to speak to him he already knew. He gave you one last kiss before making a smartass remark about how he'd be there when you got bored.
You didn't know how you were going to deal with your father just yet but you would clean up one mess at a time.
Days later you finally gathered up the courage to speak to him. It was almost dusk when you had opened up the bond and willed him to come to you. The wind brought him to the middle of your sitting room within a minute.
His head was bent, he looked like a little boy who was caught in the pantry. You sighed and took his hand leading him to your couch and pushing down his broad shoulders for him to sit in the middle. His brows furrowed in confusion as you backed away and intertwined your fingers.
"I am going to talk and you are going to listen," Your eyes flickered between both of his hazel ones. "Got it?"
He nodded eagerly, though he wouldn't meet your gaze.
"I cannot accept the bond-" From your side of the link, you felt his heart clench, "Not yet at least. I need to know this is real Az."
You could tell he wanted to speak but you knew that he wouldn't, not until you've said your peace. Tears begin to well up at how hard it was to say this out loud, "I will always love you. More than you will ever know Azriel, but I will not be a replacement for all the women you could not have. For all, I've known you never showed the slightest bit of interest in me prior to Starfall. Now I'm going to ask you- and I want the truth Az- Do you want this?"
His eyes were glossed over as he looked up at you through his lashes, "Do you want me?" Your voice broke.
He stood from his place on your couch, sauntering over to you, and he reached a hand out. Fingertips softly brushed fallen strands of your hair from your face, behind your ear, tracing a finger from your ear to your jaw. Slowly and painfully he dragged his finger to the tip of your chin forcing your eyes to meet his and you are weak.
"I have been so blind Y/n," He whispers.
"That's not an answer," You shake your head, and he drops his hand. Your voice was like stone though your nerves were on fire, "Do you love me Azriel?"
"I love you, Y/n L/n."
You wanted so badly to believe him. The thought of the mating bond forcing him to make him feel this way made you sick. "What about Elain?"
Azriel winced but spoke cooly, "An infatuation that is over and done."
"And Mor?"
"I loved her," Your stomach turned. "But the love I had for her, in that way, is gone and it does not compare to how I feel for you. The bond does nothing but intensify the love I have for you, the love that I have hidden away long ago."
"How am I supposed to believe that?" You scoff. "You forget that I've been there Az, throughout everything. You are not shy with your love, I should know, I've seen the way you love."
He shakes his head in denial, "I love you Y/n."
"What happens if one day Mor decides she loves you?" Something you knew would never actually happen but you needed to know.
"I love you-"
"Azriel-"
"I love you."
You playfully push him away from you, "You can't keep saying that when you have nothing to back it up with." He takes a hold of your waist with one hand and grabs the back of your neck, attaching his lips to yours. He kisses you with an intensity you've never felt from any other male, you melt into the kiss wrapping your arm around his shoulder and running your hands through his hair. Your body was pressed against his, adding heat to a situation you weren't sure you wanted to add to. His lips were intoxicating, you didn't want to stop but your mind wouldn't stop thinking about all the unanswered questions.
You broke away from the kiss, pushing him an arm's length away. "You said I talked too much."
He barked out a laugh, "What?"
"You told me that a couple of years ago," He took a step toward you but your arm held strong.
"I love you Y/n."
"I snore-"
"No you don't," Azriel snorted and removed your hand from his shoulder, bringing you into him with an arm. He pressed kisses up and down your neck, "I thought you wanted me to prove my love and here you are trying to give me reasons not to love you."
Azriel added his tongue to his kisses and began to suck on one spot in particular that had your knees weak.
"You said it yourself that I'm too much for you."
He paused his attack on your neck holding your face in his large hands, "Because I love you and you deserve better. Besides, I've dealt with you for well over two centuries I think I can deal with you for the rest of my life."
"I need you to prove it."
"I'll prove it to you for as long as I live," Azriel bent his neck down to press a chaste kiss to your lips.
"Promise?"
"I promise."
Taglist: @mulansaucey - @jadepearsonn - @benbarnes-supremacy - @seppys-return-to-madness - @azriel-luvr - @marina468 - @zealousballoonfox
#azriel x reader#azriel x y/n#azriel x you#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#eris vanserra x reader#eris x reader#eris x azriel#azriel x morrigans sister reader#acotar x reader#acotar imagines#mor acotar#elain archeron
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Hello, there is no hurry for you to write it but you could write about laurel VERY possessive and full of jealousy (under the facade of Marylin, of course) towards reader, student or teacher. and reader is given Account. And he does everything to provoke Laurel. And laurel can't tell him anything out of pride or anything and he acts indifferent while she agonizes inside. Y haci durante semanas. And I did for weeks. Until reader goes to a weathervane to de-stress and a girl invites him a coffee and Tyler realizes that and sends a message to laurel. And laurel gets mad and goes. And the reader is taken by force to the Gates mansion or never again. And she ends up in heavy smut.
Yesss, here it is!!! I hope you like it, and sorry about the language mistakes :))))
Don't play with me, sweetheart
Pairing: Marilyn Thornhill/ Laurel Gates x Fem, Teacher! Reader
Warnings: Smut, ropes, dark, jealousy, possessive Laurel
Word count: 4,547
Summary: You want to say her that you love her, but your are such a coward, you want to her to be the one that says it. Maybe to make her jealous it’s not the better way to do it….
N/A: Requests are open!!! Sorry about the delays, I’m working hard on your requests. I love you all!!!
“Hello,” you said, walking unannounced into the conservatory. Marilyn Thornhill, your co-worker, was startled by your unexpected presence, placing a hand on her chest.
“Please, (Y/N), don't give me those scares…” She told you, faking a smile, but unable to avoid breathing heavily.
You smirked and leaned against her desk, looking over her shoulder.
“What are you doing? You were so focused,” you said mockingly, trying to read the book that was opened on the table. She closed it immediately, looking at you with mock annoyance.
“I was trying to read, (Y/N). I was preparing tomorrow's class,” she answered you, taking that book to a shelf. You made a mocking gesture, but she didn't get angry at all, she was already used to your attitude.
You had been driving the redhead mad for two months. You liked her, you liked her a lot. The feeling could be considered reciprocated, but not cause she told you, she never did. The tension that built up around you when you were together was a good proof of that. You were very tired of that passive attitude. You knew that she only denied herself her feelings. You didn't know why.
You weren't the most direct girl in the world either. You had thrown several hints at her but you didn't feel brave enough to say things straight either. You were very proud. In your 25 years you had several disastrous relationships, and you started all of them. With a dinner, with a rose or with a sincere confession of love. None of them went well. They all ended with your dignity on the ground and your heart broken.
After the last failure, you made a decision. You would never declare yourself again. You wouldn't take the first step. If by chance that was the problem, you decided to lock your heart until someone came directly with the key.
And so you were, throwing hints towards the innocent Marilyn, while she dodged them with grace and even mastery.
“Do you want us to take a walk?” She asked you, taking her bag and intending to leave the building.
You pretended to think about it, but then you nodded, following her.
The two of you walked through the Nevermore grounds, exchanging the experiences you had had in your classes that day. They were boring conversations, devoid of any emotion, but somehow time passed faster when you were with her.
“If they paid me every time I have to heal a student who gets stung by a nettle, right now I would be a millionaire,” she told you amused, sitting down on a bench with a sigh.
You sat next and looked at her carefully. It was hard for you to admit how much you liked that woman.
“Hey, (Y/N),” another teacher said, approaching you. Marilyn stopped looking at you and fixed her eyes on her, her expression hardening a bit. “Hello, Marilyn, how are you?”
“Wonderfully,” the redhead answered, blinking rapidly. It seemed to you that she said it with a certain irony.
“Great,” the girl said, addressing you. “You left this last night in my room. I've been looking for you all day to give it to you. I figured you'd miss it.”
The teacher extended her hand towards you, in which there was a small notebook, in which you used to jot down some notes about your students.
“Oh, you had it. What a relief, I thought the werewolves had destroyed it again,” you said, taking it gratefully.
Then there was an awkward silence. None of the three said anything. You cleared your throat.
“Well…. Rachel… do you want to sit down? We're complaining about the ridiculous salary Weems pays us,” you offered her, earning you a strange look from the redhead.
“Oh, thanks, but I'm in a bit of a hurry, maybe another day. See you (Y/N),” she said, smiling at you. She didn't even bother to say goodbye to Marilyn, but the redhead’s gaze didn't send a friendly message either.
“She's a good girl. Last night we were in her room making notes, but we ended up chatting over a few glasses of wine from my secret reserve. My head still hurts,” you joked.
Marilyn smirked. It was quite evident that something had bothered her. You frowned and stared at her, trying to read her mind.
“Hey, is something wrong?” You asked, placing a hand on her knee.
She shook her head and removed your hand.
“Oh, no. I didn't know you were such a good friends,” she told you with an annoying, offended tone.
You arched an eyebrow and opened your mouth to speak, but didn't know what to say. That reaction was hard to believe. It was as if she was somehow jealous. But that couldn't be possible, could it? You had to prove that your suspicions were true.
“Well, not so much, we only see each other from time to time, you know, at night, when everyone is already in bed...” You said, implying things that did not correspond to reality at all.
“Oh, I didn't know that,” she said, putting on her glasses, not looking at you.
“Nothing serious, you know…” You continued joking, pretending to look at your nails with indifference.
“Of course,” she replied with a tone that evidently concealed daggers of rancor. “Things cannot be serious with you.”
You widened your eyes and leaned forward, smiling at what you had just heard.
“Excuse me?” You said, surprised. You were quite pleased with her reaction.
“Nothing, forget it. I'd better go mind my own business, apparently it's the only thing I can do in this school,” she said with a sigh, leaving without saying goodbye to you, just that malicious comment.
You had finally triggered the slightest reaction from Marilyn. You could swear that she was jealous, that somehow the idea that you could have something with Rachel annoyed her, made her angry. You had found the key that you had to touch, what you had to do so that she could finally admit that she had feelings for you, and you could say how madly in love with her you were then.
You spent days, weeks acting that way. Talking about women you found attractive in Nevermore, about possible hookups in Jericho. At first Marilyn kept that defensive attitude, even going so far as to ask you why you wanted to spend time with her if you had a lot of girls waiting for you. You didn't answer that question.
Gradually, the redhead's reaction to your lies and flirtations cooled to such an extent that she didn't even blink at your comments. All the conversations, all the meetings with Marilyn had the same change. Indifference, vague, concise answers. Few smiles, few glances.
You didn't understand anything. Your spirit was losing strength, and your visits to the conservatory were less and less frequent. She barely looked at you, as if she hated you, as if she didn't care. You realized that you had not done the right thing, that perhaps you had stopped to interest her. You had gone too far.
A trip to town seemed like a better option. You needed to get out of Nevermore, to get some fresh air. Looking at other environments dreaming that some mark on the ceiling of the cafeteria and a conversation that you heard from afar, will help you to interest the redhead again.
You went into the Weathervane. It was already late, the night made the place light up, creating a very cozy atmosphere. The guy behind the counter, Tyler, seemed startled to see you and immediately went to meet you.
“Hi Tyler,” you sighed, letting yourself fall into one chair.
“Good evening, (Y/N),” he told you kindly, taking out a small notebook from his pocket. "Iced black coffee?” he asked.
“Please…” You said reluctantly, playing with the sugar bowl that was in the center of that table.
“Excuse me, do you mind if I sit down?” a strange girl said, scaring you a little. “The place is crowed.”
You looked up, seeing how there were actually two occupied tables, including yours. You looked at Tyler and then at the stranger. She was pretty, you couldn't deny it, and she had a warm, kind smile. She seemed interesting.
“Sit down if you want,” you said with a pleasant smile. Tyler stared at her strangely and confused. The young woman looked at him and snapped her fingers for him to react.
“Hey, what have you missed? Two black coffees, please. I’ll pay,” she said in a way perhaps a little abrupt. The boy seemed nice, he always treated you well. You frowned, looking at that girl, who was offering a 5$ bill to the waiter.
If the situation wasn't weird enough yet, Tyler looked at you intensely, like he was judging you for something.
You shrugged and looked at that attractive young woman, who was smiling at you.
“My name is Hanna,” she told you, winking.
“(Y/N),” you said politely.
Little by little you had a conversation. A strange one, you did not know each other, but she seemed like a funny girl, with whom it was worth spending a pleasant time. The minutes passed and the coffees still hadn't arrived. You looked strangely at the counter.
Tyler was there, but not preparing the coffees, he seemed to be sending messages with his mobile phone.
“Hey! Boy!” Hanna yelled, getting her attention. He looked up and nodded, quickly putting the phone away from him.
The waiter brought you the coffees. He seemed scared, he constantly looked at the door, even after serving you he stood there, standing in front of it. You thought you saw him turn the open sign.
You two spent a while chatting meaninglessly. It was obvious that this girl, who was in Jericho on the way, wanted something with you. You weren't interested but she made you an offer you couldn't refuse. You needed to de-stress a bit.
“I have a room in the hotel across the street, you have to take a look it, I would like to know what do you think about the decoration.”
You ran a hand over the back of your neck, but you nodded, not really sure what you were doing.
You both got up from the table, but when you reached the door, something prevented you from moving forward.
“Tyler, what are you doing? We're leaving,” you said to the boy, who was standing in front of the door, blocking it. “Tyler?”
The boy didn't move, while he shook his head. His eyes weren't innocent, they were dark, filled with anger. You looked at him somehow scared. That boy's angelic and helpful look had completely disappeared.
“What's wrong with this hick?” Hanna asked, gesturing to Tyler. “Hey, let us go or I'll call the…”
She couldn't finish the sentence. Tyler picked up a mug from a table and without hesitation smashed it against the young woman's head. She collapsed unconscious on the floor.
“Have you gone crazy?!” You yelled, crouching down next to the young woman, who had a serious head injury. “Fuck, fuck, but what's wrong with you?!”
Before you could do anything else for her, someone else walked into the cafeteria, someone you didn't expect. Marilyn.
“What are you doing here? It doesn't matter,” you said, shaking your head and standing in front of the redhead, trying to protect her from the waiter, who remained calm, standing next to Hanna's unconscious body. “Call an ambulance, and the police. This disturbed boy has lost his mind.”
She listened to you with a strange smile. With subtle and almost mocking steps, she stepped over the girl and approached you, impassive by your words.
“Hey, Marilyn, I'm being serious, it's not a joke,” you said, also scared by her attitude, kicking Hanna with one foot, contemptuously, with a disgusted look. “Marilyn?”
“Shut up,” she told you abruptly, making you step back. “Were you having fun, (Y/N)?”
“What? What are you talking about?” You asked, blinking several times in case you were hallucinating.
“I asked if you were having fun,” she hissed, moving dangerously close to you.
You shook your head, noticing how your pulse increased. You were disoriented and confused. That wasn't happening, it couldn't be happening.
Before you knew it, you felt a pinprick on your neck. Marilyn was holding a syringe, which she emptied after sticking it into you. You were going to say something, you were going to scream, to run away, but you couldn't. A terrible dizziness washed over you, making you stagger.
“Tyler, don't let her fall.” You heard the redhead say. When you fell, you noticed that some arms grabbed you, preventing you from colliding hopelessly with the ground. You looked at Marilyn before your eyes closed.
You didn't recognize those eyes that drove you crazy. You only saw a strange, disturbed woman, looking at you with the syringe in her hand and a wicked smile on her face. Your body surrendered to the liquid that was injected into you, and you soon lost consciousness.
When you opened your eyes, the first thing you perceived was darkness, a strange darkness. You didn't know how long you'd been sleeping, or where you were.
You did not recognize the environment. It wasn't Nevermore. It wasn't any place you'd seen before. It looked like some kind of well-cared-for child's room, with a vase of white flowers on the little table. You recognized those flowers, you had seen them before, at the conservatory.
When your extremities tingled, you made to move your arms, but an unsettling revelation stopped you.
You were tied up. Your wrists were tied to the headboard. It was time to being scared, to scream.
“Help!” You yelled. Nothing happened, obviously.
You made a pathetic attempt to move, to undo your restraints. You couldn't do it. You were still weak and the knots were strong. Every time you pulled the strings, your wrists itched. You kicked furiously.
“Help…” You sighed, desperate.
The creak of the door opening alerted you.
Marilyn Thornhill, your co-worker, the woman you loved, that shy normie teacher from Nevermore, walked into that room, carrying a glass of water and a quiet smile.
“Hello, princess, did you sleep well?” She asked, sitting next to you on the bed. You moved scared and kicked again. “Don't even try, (Y/N), you won't be able to let go. Be a good girl, huh?”
“What? What have you...?” You said, with a hoarse, muffled voice. Marilyn smiled, caressing your forehead, and offered you the glass of water.
“Drink, you need water, honey. Listen to me,” she told you.
You frowned and, scared and furious, you nodded. She brought the glass to your lips and gave you a drink as if you were a helpless animal. You drank the whole glass, you were really very thirsty. Your throat felt relief from the coolness of the liquid.
“Very well, good girl…” The redhead whispered, leaving the glass on the table. “Don't worry, you'll soon be fine, it was a very mild dose.”
You shook your head with wide eyes.
“You're crazy... You're sick in the head! Let me go! Let me go!” You yelled angrily. It was a bad decision. A hard slap collided with your cheek, shutting you up instantly. You looked at Marilyn now with fear. She seemed to be trying to control herself.
“Shut your filthy outcast mouth or I'll gag you,” she said, grabbing your chin.
You clenched your teeth, but you didn't say anything. The redhead got up and she began to pace the room, nervous, totally out of herself.
“I thought that what we got was something special, (Y/N), that you cared about it.”
You raised your eyebrows and your blood began to boil.
“What are you talking about?” You asked cautiously. She laughed offended.
“Don't play dumb, you know what I'm talking about. You appear in my life to change my world, you make me have illusions, feel things that I stopped feeling for too long, why did you do it? Did you know how I felt about you? Was it fun to make me suffer?”
You didn't understand anything, but you knew that her words were totally wrong.
“I don't know what you're talking about, Marilyn,” you kept denying the evidence.
"Laurel!" she yelled, totally out of control. "My name is Laurel!"
You opened your eyes and suddenly you knew where you were.
“Laurel? Laurel Gates?” You asked suddenly.
You knew the history of that family, but you never imagined having a member in front of you. She took off her glasses, leaving them on the dresser, and looked at you, nodding with a smile.
“Fuck… Let me go!” You screamed nervous and terrified.
“Shut up!” She yelled, echoing off the walls. “You dare to make me hopeful, I was already ready to love you, to love you and you have spent the last week making me jealous, telling me the things you do, the girls you fuck. Look, I have a lot of patience, but that you were having coffee with that whore is already beyond me. I can't take it anymore, (Y/N),” she told you, relaxing her tone of voice a bit.
“You're the one who doesn't have the guts to admit your feelings!” You yelled. Soon what happened at the Weathervane ceased to matter, as her true identity did.
Laurel looked at you quizzically.
“Of course I admit them, (Y/N). I have fallen in love with an outcast. I have dishonored my lineage, my ancestors... But that doesn't matter to you. You only cared about your "girls' nights" with Rachel, right?”
“It was a lie!” You screamed, on the verge of tears. “It was just to make you jealous, to see if you'd react for a fucking time! But no, instead of being honest, you decide to kidnap me, tie me up and drug me. Very nice of you.”
She couldn't answer that, you were right. Laurel turned around, thinking of a response. She quickly moved closer to you, and leaning down, she grabbed your cheeks, squeezing them hard.
“You're lying. You're lying to me to let you go, aren't you?” She asked nervously, unhinged. You shook your head, knowing that one bad word could mean your end.
“I'm not lying,” you said the way you could.
Laurel released your cheeks and huffed, wandering around the room again.
“Dammit, (Y/N),” she told you, looking at you with her hands on her hips. She even seemed to hold back a laugh. “Why did not you tell me? We could not have all of this...”
“How was I supposed to know you were going to kidnap me? How do you want me to know that you're not Marilyn Thornhill?”
“Does that change your feelings?” She asked, sitting up on the bed.
“Well, no, I don't know,” you stammered, as she started to climb on top of you.
“You don't know?” She asked, sitting on your hips, moving very slowly on them. You closed your eyes, trying not to feel the pleasure that was beginning to rise up your cheeks due to that subtle touch.
“If you let me go maybe I'll see more clearly,” you said, with an innocent smile. She laughed outrageously and shook her head, moving faster. A moan almost escapes you.
“No, honey, don't think I'm so stupid. Besides, I think you're beautiful like this,” she said, taking her hands to the buttons of your shirt.
“But, but…” You murmured, feeling a current of cold on your now half-naked chest.
Her rocking was soft, sending you unique sensations, while her hands enjoyed your chest.
“Do you want me to untie you, sweetheart?” She asked, not having the slightest mercy with your bra. You nodded effusively.
Your first idea was to escape, but little by little that thought disappeared from your head. You had been imagining that moment for too long. Not exactly like that, but imagining it.
“I'm not going to do it. First, I want you to understand one thing…” She whispered, getting close to your ear. “You are mine, (Y/N). I don't want to see stupid bitches flying circles around you. If they do, they will suffer the same fate as the girl in the cafeteria. I hope that it has been clear.”
You widened your eyes, starting to feel guilty enjoying her body against yours. You didn't know what had happened to Hanna, but you already figured nothing good. There were a lot of things you didn't understand, and a lot that scared you, but at the time you didn't think about it. You preferred to think of the hand that went directly to the zipper of your jeans, unbuttoning them.
You nodded, completely relinquishing your conscience, the alert calls that your senses screamed. You had just given up your humanity, the ethics that you thought characterized you.
“I can't hear you, (Y/N)…” She whispered, running her nails across your belly, threatening, deep.
“What?” You asked confused. You immediately received another slap.
“This can be easy or hard, (Y/N). I want you to say it. I want you to say that you are mine, that you will only be with me, that no one will put a hand on you,” she told you, putting her hand inside your pants.
You moved unintentionally and she enjoyed watching you debate with your own head, caressing you gently.
“I… I…” You whispered, noticing the moisture that had formed between your legs and that the redhead seemed to be mocking.
“Say it,” she said, her voice dark and her eyes narrowed.
“I'm yours, damn it. Only yours. No one will lay a hand on me, I promise you… I... I...”
You couldn't keep talking. Her fingers played with your folds, moving around your point of greatest pleasure. You couldn't suppress a groan. You hadn't been loved for a long time.
“Very good, honey. That's the way I like it, that you behave well with mommy...” She said, lowering your pants while your body moved involuntarily due to the loss of contact. You didn't attach importance to that name, you just accepted it, with great expectation.
“Now I'm going to show you that you're mine... I want you to enjoy, (Y/N), I want you to look at me while I fuck you, I don't want you to blink, I want to see those beautiful eyes cry with pleasure...” She told you, hastily introducing two fingers inside you.
You shrieked at the sensation. It was very nice, perhaps too nice considering the circumstances. You obeyed and didn't close your eyes, you looked at her, biting your lip while her rhythm kept slow, intense.
“How beautiful you are, (Y/N)… You're so good…” She told you, juggling to get rid of her own underwear while touching you.
“Fuck…” You gasped as she leaned into you as her hand went directly under her skirt, and it started to move as Laurel started to moan exaggeratedly, torturing you for not being able to touch her.
You moved your bound hands in a desperate attempt to reach the redhead. You soon gave up, you only amused her even more.
“Calm down, (Y / N), mommy is already enjoying…” She told you, smiling, bringing her hand to your mouth.
You licked her fingers and sucked on them with too obvious frustration. You were savoring her arousal, but you were unable to really touch her, to enjoy her.
Laurel stroked herself again and increased the speed of her other hand, causing you to moan this time loudly and unquietly.
“Please, please…” You said, almost without thinking. You didn't even know what you were asking for, but you needed something, more and more. Your hips rose involuntarily as the ropes that bound your wrists tightened.
“Very well, (Y/N), I want to see how you enjoy, how you explode with pleasure. I want to see how mommy makes you happy…” She said, panting as well, while she touched herself even faster.
You couldn't help but close your eyes and scream as the wave of pleasure washed over you. Your whole body tensed and the vulnerability you felt from being tied up only made you come more intensely, wildly.
Laurel chuckled and pulled her fingers out of you, and her hand under her skirt, coming up to your mouth and kissing her hungrily, passionately.
It was your first kiss, but it wouldn't be the last. Her teeth bit your lips with desire and you did the same. It was hardly even a kiss, it was a fight in which your tongues fought to dominate you, to savor you.
She pulled away and for a moment seemed to relax, caressing your cheek.
“I had been dreaming of taking you for so many nights, (Y/N),” she told you in a strangely, romantic way.
You looked at her, but you didn't see the woman who kidnapped you, who hurt an innocent girl. You only saw the woman you fell in love with, that look that made you blush. You were lost
“Will you untie me now?” You asked amused, running your tongue over her lips. She laughed and shook her head again.
“You don't need your hands for this, honey. Don't move,” she told you, lifting her skirt while she sat on top of your face.
It was hard for you to breathe, but having her so close to you, being able to really taste her, being able to feel that you were filled with her, was something better than feeling like you might not will be able to breathe.
She didn't move.
“If you do something stupid, I promise you'll pay for it, dear," she hissed, resting her hands on the headboard.
You nodded as best you could and soon your tongue began to work, causing soft movements in the redhead's hips.
"That’s it, honey…” She whispered between desperate moans.
Your mouth played as long as it could, reaching everywhere, savoring everything in its path as Laurel played with you, pulling away from time to time to look at your eager, depraved face.
It didn't take you long to feel her muscles tense. The redhead threw her head back, screaming shamelessly as she released herself so close to you that it somehow made you feel like you were part of her.
After a few ragged breaths, she pulled away from your face and climbed off the bed, searching for something in one of the dresser drawers. She took out a small pocket knife and turned to you with a smile.
-Do you see, sweetie? How easy it has been to clarify things,” she said smiling
Your common sense told you that the knife was not good for you anyway, that you wouldn't make it through that night. At least you would have had a good send-off.
Laurel climbed back onto the bed and to your surprise, she cut the ropes that were blocking your movements. You lowered your hands and rubbed your wrists trying to ease the pain you felt in them.
“Now, you and me. Marilyn and (Y/N), we're going back to Nevermore and you're going to shut up about everything you've seen. I think we're going to be very happy together, don't you think?”
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Chapter 3- Into It Deeper
Pairings: Jake Kiszka x Reader
Genre: angst?
Word Count: little over 1.7 k
Warnings: sword fight with Sammy (no one gets hurt)
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You stand, stretching before you make your way towards him. He hesitates at the door, his hand unmoving on the knob.
“Wait- before we go out there, you need to know something. I know the Kiszka’s very well and if they don’t decide to kill you, they’ll make you prove your usefulness. Do you know your way with a sword?”
You nod, offering no other explanation.
“Good. Knowing them, they will make you fight one of us, my guess is Joshua or Samuel. We all have weaknesses, and I’m only telling you now to give you a fighting chance.”
Saying nothing, you wait patiently for him to continue.
“Joshua is partially deaf in his left ear. He’ll tell you it’s because the first man he killed screamed so loud it ruptured his eardrum but, he actually stood too close to a cannon firing when he was a kid. Jacob has a bad knee, took a bullet to the right one when he was 16. It’s not bad enough that it impairs him when fighting, but if you hit the side of it, he immediately crumples. Now Samuel has the worst weakness, if they give you an option of who to fight, choose him. He gets too cocky when he notices any sign of weakness from his opponent, when he knows he’s bound to win. He’ll draw it out and tease them, makes a real show of it. If you fight him and you fake near defeat well enough, you’re bound to catch him off guard.”
He finishes, waiting for any reaction from you. He gets none as you stare blankly at him.
“And you? What’s your weakness?”
He throws you a sheepish sideways smile. “I get too focused, especially if I have a bow in my hands. I can think of nothing other than that, which is great if I’m fighting one opponent, but not so much if there’s multiple. What about you?”
You think for a moment, deciding you could trust him with this as he just did with you.
“I underestimate myself. Especially if I know my opponent has a better chance of winning. Once that gets into my head, I’m bound to self-sabotage.”
“Well, when they do make you fight, stay out of your head. I’ve known them my whole life, if you remember what I said, you have just as much a chance of winning as they do.”
He goes to open the door before you stop him, placing your hand on his forearm.
“Thank you, Danny.”
“Of course. I know what it’s like to be surrounded by pirates, knowing some of them wanted you dead. Know that you have a friend here, Polaris.”
With that he opens the door, beginning to walk down the corridor as you trail behind him. As soon as you reach the deck, your eyes go wide at the beauty surrounding you. The ships have docked in a massive cavern, a waterfall at its entrance hiding it from prying eyes. Within this cavern, a “town” sits, buildings set against the rock on high planks keeping them above the water. Lanterns light the space, each building having many hung against their sides. The sound of joyous yelling, laughter, and music reaches your ears as you gaze in awe from the distance of the ship.
“Welcome to The Garden.” Danny says with a smile. “Kellen Kiszka built this place, for his family and our allies. It’s a safe haven for us. Whenever we need to lie low or restock, we come here.”
“It’s- beautiful.” You breath out, your voice barely above a whisper.
“It’s home.”
“Good to see you still alive, Polaris. Thanks for not killing them, Daniel.”
You turn, seeing Jacob making his way from the helm towards you.
“No problem, Captain.”
Jacob stops next to you, looking you over from head to toe to ensure no harm had come upon you. When he’s satisfied not even finding the smallest scratch, he motions towards the dock.
“Well, shall we?”
You and Danny follow him as he makes his way off the ship, joining the small groups of his and Joshuas crew as they make their way towards the lively city. You hear a sharp whistle from behind you, turning to see Joshua holding a small lantern with Samuel, making their way towards you, Danny, and Jacob through the crowd.
“We need to talk. All of you.” Joshua says shortly, his jaw clenched and body language tense.
He takes the lead of the group, expecting the rest of you to follow him. Just before you reach the town, he splits off to the side, down a lesser worn path towards a small building, its lanterns unlit as it sits alone in the dark. Joshua is the first to enter, immediately busying himself with lighting each lantern in the room with the one in his hand. As the candles cast light across the room, you take it in, seeing nothing but a large open space, the only “decorations” being swords and daggers hung on the walls.
“Our father used to train us here, when we were too young to join him on his travels. We haven’t used it in years.” He turns towards you, glaring as he sizes you up. “But tonight, we will use it to see if you are fit to join us.”
Remembering the conversation you and Danny had had back on the ship, you feign surprise and confusion.
“What-“
“First, you choose your weapons. Then you’ll choose your opponent.” He explains, motioning you towards the racks of blades on the walls. “So, choose.”
You walk towards one, first grabbing a small dagger and strapping it around your hips, the blade laying against your right side. Next, you take a sword off the wall, testing its weight in your hands, your back to the group as they watch you.
This one. Perfectly balanced, like it was made for me.
You turn back towards the group, taking its hilt in your hand and holding it lazily at your side as you flash your most innocent eyes at them.
“Is this a good one?”
Samuel and Joshua erupt into laughter, thinking you surely had no chance in a match against one of them. Jacob’s mouth draws into a thin line, his jaw clenching at your “lack” of knowledge. Daniel is the only one who has not lost faith as he tries to keep a smile off his lips at your act.
“Yes, it’s a fucking good one.” Joshua says pointedly when he stops laughing. “Now, choose your opponent.”
You eye the group carefully, putting on your best show at making it seem as if it was hard to choose between them.
“Samuel.”
Your response shocks the group, as all but Danny expected you to choose Jacob or Daniel, knowing they would show the most mercy. Samuels eyes glint with a raging fire as he grins maniacally.
“Finally. I’ve been wanting to cut you down since the moment you stepped onto our ship.”
“My ship, Samuel.” Jacob cuts in.
“Whatever, it doesn’t matter now. You can’t protect them here.” He draws his sword as he takes a step towards you. “Don’t worry, pet. I’ll make your death quick.”
You remember how you had fought when your father first began teaching you, mirroring your old clumsy motions as he walks towards you. You grasp the hilt with both hands, your arms stiff as you hold it in front of your body, pointing at Samuel as he hungrily eyes you. Both of your feet are planted under your hips, fully facing him as his body rotates, his sword hand closest to you.
He makes the first move, slashing at your blade with his own as he steps forward. Your grasp loosens, and the hilt drops from your left hands grip, still managing to stay within the right as he laughs.
“C’mon, at least try. It’s no fun to kill such an inexperienced opponent.”
You back away from him, intentionally backing yourself into a wall. He sees his chance and takes it, jabbing the tip towards your stomach, jumping forward as he does it. You manage to step to the side, but his free hand catches you, drawing your back against his front as he holds the blade to your throat.
“Told you I’d make it quick.” Is all he says before you elbow his gut, slipping out of his grasp and away from him as he recovers.
“So, we’re playing dirty, huh? I was going to show you mercy.”
He arcs his blade towards you once more, and you bring your own up to block it, instantly stepping out of his reach once more. He growls, baring his teeth as he makes another advance. Once again, you block it, attempting to step away from him. His left hand shoots out to grip your arm, throwing you to the floor, your sword clattering against the wood feet away from your hand.
He walks towards you slowly, his blade pointing straight at you as you crawl backwards on the floor. The point reaches your throat, nudging your chin up to force you to meet his gaze, your face twisted into an expression of terror.
“Beg. Beg for mercy.” His face is alight with elation, already imagining your blood pooling on the floor beneath him.
You let your act drop, your face deadpanning as you stare up at him. “No.”
Before he can process the response you kick his hand, sending his sword flying across the room. You stand rapidly, tackling him around the middle and sending you both to the floor. You land on top of him, straddling him as you unsheathe your dagger, holding the edge against his throat firmly enough for him to feel the sting of it.
He looks up at you with wide eyes, his mind racing as it catches up to the events that just unfolded.
“Beg.” You spit, rage dripping from your words. “Beg for mercy.”
His hands come up in surrender, his breath catching as you press down into his throat with your dagger.
“Mercy- Mercy.” His voice is broken, fear clawing at his insides as he breathes heavily.
You remove the dagger, placing it back in its sheath as you stand. You pick your sword up, intentionally flashing it around in a show of your true skill with a blade before grabbing Samuels as well. You flip it in your hand, catching the tip before offering the hilt to the man still on the floor. You turn towards the three men still standing, Joshua and Jacobs jaws dropped in awe as Danny smiles at you.
“So, am I good enough to join you?”
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A/N: the title, of course, is taken from the lyrics to The Indigo Streak
#greta van fleet#gvf fic#greta van fleet fan fiction#jake gvf#jake kiszka x reader#pirates#pirate jake kiszka
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Episode 5: where we get Plato hopelessly wrong, probably
We're back to pyramids I guess?
No wait, Gobekli tepe!
(I knew he'd get there eventually)
"according to archaeologists, it shouldn't exist!" But it does, and if you talked to us you'd know we love it. ask my grandmother, I never shut up about Gobekli tepe.
Ah, he's on about door angles again.
"you don't just wake up in the morning and decide to build a grand structure like this" why not? I woke up one morning and decided to build a camper (no it's still not done yet). Maybe hunting and gathering got repetitive after a while and somebody said "you know what would be cool? If we had a really awesome place to have feasts and pray. We should build a really cool place to hang out with gods and spirits, I bet it would be fun." Can you imagine, if you'd lived in huts and gathered for a living your whole life, how amazing it would be to stand in Gobekli tepe, look around and think "yeah, we did this. We made this place, and carved all the animals who live around us into the walls. It took years, but now we can spend time here, and people from all over come to see it and spend time here". They definitely could have just woken up one day, had a good idea, and built Gobekli tepe. It was a hell of a cool idea.
(I warned you. You kept reading anyway)
Why does he assume this was a "first try"? We haven't dug up every inch of Turkey yet.
And just because it wasn't doesn't mean there were some geniuses telling them to do it.
Come on, Graham. They were not filling this swimming pool with blood. Blood is hard to come by, especially for hunter-gatherers. And very valuable.
I swear to god Graham, if you start with the satanic panic bullshit I will shut you off.
Settlement before agriculture isn't a revolutionary idea in archaeology. It's been a thing in the Pacific Northwest since forever. Go on, tell me a 60-meter pit house, or a pole-front plank house doesn't count as monumental architecture just because they're wood instead of stone.
I don't have the background on this mythology to call his bullshit, but I have faith the bullshit is there anyway.
"temples open to the sky" roofs are hard to make out of stone. When they are, they tend to collapse. Roofs aren't absent, they're far less likely to survive to present day. Trust me, if you live mostly outside, your most important gathering places will have a roof before anything else.
If I had to bet money, I'd say even Stonehenge had a roof originally.
Now we're correlating pictures on the pillars to stars in the sky. Stars are just dots! You can line them up to anything you like if you try hard enough! This is nothing!!
How do you see the constellations if the sun is in the sky??? You don't! This is the stone age, Graham!
... and the fake date in the fabricated constellations doesn't match when it was built. Surprise!
Now he's describing the younger dryas in a (dramatic and inaccurate) way that makes it seem like the tribulations.
We also knew Gobekli tepe was buried. This is not news.
Final thoughts:
Up next: I make a monumental discovery Graham doesn't want you to know about when I connect the images on Gobekli tepe's pillars to the rock chips on my truck's windshield. Could these ancient hunter-gatherers have actually predicted the distribution of gravel on modern-day BC roads? Obviously I don't ACTUALLY believe in premonitions of the future's least significant minutiae, but when the official narrative doesn't line up, these questions must be asked!
I mean ... We don't actually know most of the things about Gobekli tepe. It's hugely confusing to archaeologists. That's part of why we love it so much, because it raises a whole new set of questions and shakes up the established story.
That said, I'm pretty sure these guys don't have the answers we're looking for.
Okay, y'all know I can't resist a hack having a go at archaeology.
So I'm gonna watch Ancient Apocalypse so I'm prepared to rant about everything that's wrong with it when somebody inevitably tries to talk to me about it.
So here we go.
What's wrong with Ancient Apocalypse, episode by episode:
Episode 1
Gunung Padang
7200 year-old cultural layer is 4 meters doen, but the basalt column architecture is on the surface.
These are not the same culture! The more recent (2300 ish BP) culture built the basalt structures on top of the older settlement.
This guy is intentionally misrepresenting the nature of the site and ignoring the first rule of archaeology.
At the lowest levels they tested they're not even proving people lived there, just that they could carbon date a hill.
Chances are, this was a hill, people lived on it for several thousand years, and in the last 2-3 thousand they built it up into the structure we can now see the ruins of.
It's a cool site, but not disproving the archaeological record. If people 7200+ years ago built the structures, why are they on the surface while the cultural layer for these people is 4 meters down? That's not how stratigraphy works.
Nan Madol
Very different architecture than Gunung Padang. They stacked basalt columns like Lincoln logs while Gunung Padang stacked them all in the same direction.
The underwater footage here is laughably bad. Are those even structures? They're much narrower than the ones on land.
Those pillars could be natural, there's no way to tell without scraping some of the muck off and taking a closer look.
Even if they are constructed, they could have been used for breakwaters or piers. There's no proof whatsoever that these were built on land and then submerged.
Nobody is claiming that flood myths can't be remembered stories from the ice age. That isn't something archaeologists reject.
The real question is why he thinks they needed to have a vast, advanced civilisation to remember stories, when we've demonstrated again and again that stories hold a huge amount of cultural and historical memory.
And some final thoughts:
He doesn't seem to think humans are capable of very much? Why is "advanced civilisation" required for humans to have constructed megalithic sites or tell stories?
The research at Gunung Padang is extremely controversial. In a quick google I found a bunch of stuff about how the president at the time was throwing them a lot of funding to "prove" that it was the oldest pyramid in the world and put Java on the map. The dude who did the coring work seems to be pretty unpopular with reputable archaeologists.
Love the way the host goes "archaeologists don't seem to like me!?!" While also yelling "I can't believe you people are so dumb! You never even looked here!" About fairly well-studied archaeological sites.
He doesn't understand the most basic principles of archaeology. For instance, stratigraphy.
"archaeologists won't talk about flood mythologies!" That's right I noticed that in the ENTIRE CLASS we spent talking about flood mythologies in our northwest archaeology course. Spot on.
#archaeology#anthropology#pseudoscience#hes perilously close to going fully off the rails#cant wait until he does#ancient apocalypse#next he's going to claim snakes are a metaphor for storms i just know it#stay tuned more of this bullshit after i walk the bitey puppy
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LOVE COMES WITH A PRICE
— the mafia main masterlist
pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader
summary: working at one of the world's famous hotels in seoul was pretty interesting. you never thought your life would make a whole 180 when you got the job. you were now a mafia leader's fake wife and it's definitely not how you thought how you'd spend life.
warnings: cussing, shady business, honestly would make a little more sense if you played the game bc i tried my best to describe it as how i remembered. it's been a whole 1 year since i played that game. flirty heeseung.
word count: 9.1K words
NOTE: o em gee😵💫 it’s been so long since last touched this series. i was supposed to continue to it after ‘jam out’ ended but you know the whole fiasco happened with my account so here this is. i’m still procrastinating on writing the next member. i feel like it’s not as great so I may just scrap it and restart the whole thing🗿
when you look at a hotel, you would never think anything shady was happening. it was just a simple mere 5 star hotel that stood tall in the middle of seoul with all its glory. to many, the people behind this spectacular place were more in the talks. who were they? you might ask.
“have you heard about lee heeseung? one of the owners of this spectacular building?” one rich lady asks another.
“i heard. aren’t there 6 other guys too? i heard they are quite dashing too.”
��yeah. think we could meet them?”
“nobody ever gets to meet them. only if we were lucky, we would.” the ladies snobbishly laugh before leaving the hotel grounds.
you rolled your eyes at them. this was how it was everyday for the past 1 week at your new workplace, they always talked about the building but mainly the 7 boys who actually owned the place and built other hotels after.
Decelis Resort, it was really hard to get a job here. all their staff was to be trained. the first few days when you started were harsh. it felt like an army training camp rather than a simple training. thankfully, you became friends with the rest of the maids and even one of the higher up maids. there were two maids who joined 2 weeks earlier than you. they certainly made you feel like you were cinderella, as they constantly made fun of you and always left the work for you to do.
but at least there were other maids to help you out. that’s how the bond was because every one of them has gone through descrimination from the guests here.
“(name), care to help me?” danbi asks. she stands at one end of the bed and you stood at the other. the both of you lifted up the covers and straightened it out. she goes to grab something out from the cart. “oh no, we’ve ran out of towels to put in this room.”
“I can get it for you.” you say.
“(name). it’s okay, i can get it. you can stay here and help sort more stuff in this room. i’m sure you still haven’t really memorised where the storage room is.”
“well, i have to learn, don't i? so, this is a great opportunity for me!”
“oh (name).” she sighs. “alright, you can go but if you get lost. please call me, don’t even bother pondering over the contact. you know how this place is, it’s scary. one mistake and you are done for.”
“alright, danbi unnie.” you say.
you were determined to get the route of the storage room right. you always wondered why the heck it was so confusing to find the place but danbi simply explained that it was the owner’s decision to do it. which owner? danbi doesn’t know, all she knows is that it was one of them. everyone suspects it was lee heeseung because the two parks of their group couldn’t stop making out with girls. they were party lovers and you would always catch them partying with girls surrounding them constantly. some people even say that they always came back with lipstick marks staining the corner of their lips, dishevelled hair and a smirk adorning their lips. probably making out with their chosen girl for the night in a janitor’s closet. hence, lee heeseung was done with their doings so he placed the storage room far from any contact. it made the job for the maids harder though so you thought lee heeseung must really hate cleaners or either he really didn’t plan the floorplan properly at all.
“now was it the left or right turn?” you say. you took the right corridor. which wasn’t the way at all to the storage room. you entered one of the rooms.
“oh? are those towels?” you say. surprisingly, they had cleaned towels here but they were high up on the shelf. too tall for you. you found a chair but it didn’t look sturdy. you knew you had to take the risk since you needed those towels. you climbed the chair and went to grab the towels.
“just a little more.” you went on your tiptoes trying to reach for the clean towels. unfortunately, the chair gives up on you and you fell to the ground. it wasn’t a high fall but you were for sure going to have bruises the next morning. you wince at the sharp pain that appeared on your ankle. your uniform torn from getting caught on something as you fell.
the torn definitely made you look unprofessional though since it was like a cut slit to a formal dress. you were practically showing off a decent amount of your skin. you sighed and then you realised something else had broken as you fell. it was an art piece, sure to be way more than your salary. let’s hope nobody finds you-
“you.” someone says. you gasp and hide your face. he pries your hands off your face. “you just broke the bosses’ art piece! you are going to pay it back in full amount now!”
“h-how much is it?” you asked. the guy smirks.
“definitely more than your poor ass can afford.” you flinch when he brings his hand forward to tilt your head up to face him. “you seem pricey though, surely we would earn millions of dollars.” he smirks.
“i’m not an object though and i can’t be sold!” you say. the guy laughs.
“then find another solution for you to pay me off.”
“I can give you in small amounts first. how about that?” you suggest.
“it’s going to take you a lifetime if you want to pay me the full amount.”
“then i shall do it! I don’t care how long it takes. i would rather do that then we sold off to god knows what.” the guy laughs hard.
“Well too bad. I will not take that deal.” he knocks you out cold. the next time you opened your eyes, you could hear talking and gossiping. it was dark, something was blocking the light. the blanket gets pulled off from the place where you held at. you quickly realise, you were in a giant cage and your hands were bound to the chair by a tight knot.
you couldn’t even say a word as there was tape covering your lips. you could hear the guy calling out numbers and you only assume it was the price. it kept going up. this was it, you would be sold to some random old dude and he could do whatever he wanted with you. you wished someone would at least help you. please anyone but a random creep. you looked up to see who was betting for you.
there was this guy who was constantly betting for you and he looked like a complete creep. smirking at you, rubbing his hands and licking his lips constantly. it made you sick.
“going once, going twice. sold to the man in-” in grows quiet, someone else raised his hand. he was at the top, overlooking everyone. “What’s the price you’d like to name, sir with the mask and red hair.”
“100 million usd.” the announcer’s jaw drops. actually everyone’s jaw drops, even yours if your mouth wasn’t taped shut.
“anyone would like to add more?” the creep raises his hands.
“140 million won.” your eyes widened.
“500 million usd.” the guy in the red hair says. everyone gasps again. the creep was shocked. he quickly backs down, he can’t lose his money. he only had a certain amount.
“going once, going twice. sold to the man in the mask with red hair!” the announcer comes up to you and opens the door.
“good luck on your new life.” he whispers, you felt shivers down your spine. he removes the rope binding you to the chair and removes the tape across your lips. the guy who bought you comes up to you and holds out his hand. you hesitantly take it. a small smirk appears at the corner of his lips. he pulls you close.
“meet upstairs.” he hands you a keycard before pulling back and turning to the announcer. “The money is with my friends, let us go to them.” the announcer nods and follows the guy along. A few bodyguards coming along with the announcer to protect him, you guessed. you did what you were told to do because you were terrified.
you got in the elevator but you realise, that there were far more levels than upstairs. you noticed there was a penthouse but you were certain that was not what the guy meant. from what you were told, the penthouse was where the owners of the buildings hang out and probably stay. there was no way the guy wanted you there.
you entered the 18th floor, it was a ball. well, the business meeting kind of ball. tons of guests here were the rich business men/women. you certainly felt out of place, bruises glazing your skin, you carefully walked around when someone hands you an empty wine glass.
“thank you, the service here has been so far horrible. waiters are nowhere to be found. you guys should step up, we are providing more work for you to get money!” ah, how you despise rich snobby people but you couldn’t do anything. what if you somehow got told on and then you got fired. you were not taking any chances.
“of course sir, we are so sorry for the terrible service provided. I will make sure to inform the service team of our horrible behaviour.” you bowed. the guy scoffs.
“is this what enhypen taught their staff? those young boys are nothing but good looks. they have no skills.” you looked down pretending to feel sorry for the damage the other staff had done. someone stands next to you and you looked up. you stared at the man who just stood beside you. he smiles at the guy who insulted the owners of the hotel.
this young man had streaks of dirty blonde hair against his natural hair colour, his lips were wide but even though he was wearing a masquerade mask to hide his identity, you could tell he was really handsome. the suit was wearing showed off his amazing physique, small waist line, perfect combination of masculine and feminine hands, long legs and strong chest muscles (he most definitely had a huge heart under there). A rose tattoo adorned his beautiful neck, the final touch to make any girl swoon over him.
he smirks.
“you must be mr.hansel.” the young man holds out his hand. mr.hansel shakes his hand.
“yes, that is certain. i’m so sorry for not being able to recognise you but who might you be exactly.” mr.hansel says. the young man smirks again. he take off his mask and mr.hansel gasps.
“nice to meet you, i am sim jaeyun, i go by jake too. one of the owners of the decelis hotels.” he smiles. you froze in your spot.
you mean he is the jake that is part of the enhypen team? one of the owners who are highly important and the ones who created the hotels that every rich people lavish in?
mr.hansel freezes too. you noticed he was taken aback, not being able to find words to form.
“i overheard you talking to one of our staffs here.” jake turns to look at you. “you were complaining about the horrible service here and about how we don’t train our staffs right. we do apologise for that.”
“no no, it’s okay haha. mistakes are common of course. not everyone can do their job right all the time.” jake nods in agreement.
“that is very true. in that case, shall i punish our staff over here and her team?”
“oh my, there is no need for that.”
“great because she is no staff.” jake says. you tilt your head, “she’s mr.lee heeseung’s wife.”
mr.hansel’s eyes widened. he looks at you and starts bowing whilst muttering a string of apologies.
“i am so sorry, my dear lady. mr.lee has never revealed that he has a wife and we have never seen her before so i did not know it was you. Forgive me.” he mutters. you looked shocked. you turned to look at jake before he gestures for you to act it out.
“u-uh, it’s okay. i came out here without my husband’s knowledge and in a disguise. i just wanted to see how the ball was doing since my husband didn’t allow me to.”
“well, enough with the apologies, your husband awaits for you upstairs.” jake says. he helps to escort you.
you enter the elevator, jake swipes his card and clicks onto the penthouse. it looked similar to the one the guy had given to you downstairs. your eyes widened. wait so were you supposed to go to the penthouse with the keycard??
“you know, you’re really naive. heeseung hyung was waiting for you and was even looking for you but you were nowhere to be found. He thinks you should repay since he saved you from being sold to some creep.” you kept quiet. you shouldn’t voice out to someone of higher authority than you.
the elevator doors open, jake walks out first. you noticed there were 6 other people standing in the middle of the room.
“hyung, here you go. got your chew toy for you.” jake says. everyone turns their heads to look at you. you suddenly felt small, out of place. after all, these boys were higher class than you. one of them comes up to you and hands you a set of new clothes.
“here you go noona, your work attire is all ripped up.” he smiles.
“sunoo, stop being so nice to everyone you meet.” the boy with silver hair groans.
“well sunghoon hyung, maybe if you actually tried being nice to a girl for once you’d be able to find love and possibly get laid!” sunoo says. The boy named sunghoon gasps. clearly a little offended by the younger boy’s remarks. jake laughs before patting his dear friend’s shoulder.
“sunoo is right bud, being grumpy all the time does not get you laid.”
“shut it sim. you too should realise that your so called girl best friend has no crush on you!” sunghoon huffs.
“oh hoon, i do know. i’m not that dumb alright. this is why i’m part of the tech team and you are part of the protocol team.” sunghoon shoves jake. they argue for what seemed like a minute. the guy in the red hair sighs, takes off his mask and runs his fingers through his hair.
“would you two idiots stop arguing?” heeseung says. the two younger boys stopped arguing.
“sorry heeseung hyung.” jake pouts. heeseung’s eyes met yours, he steps forward towards you and you moved back. heeseung obviously knew what you were doing so his hand reaches for your waist to scoop you closer to him. you couldn’t move back anymore and when he scooped you closer, your hands fall flat on his huge chest. you blushed.
“look, i have no feelings for you in any sort of way.” well that ruined the slightly romantic mood, if there was even one to begin with. “and since I ‘bought’ you, i can do anything i want to you.” you gulped.
‘anything’ he wanted. this was not what you’d expected you’d be doing 3 weeks ago before you got this job. you thought you’d be happily living your life since you just finished college days prior. you thought you’d be happily at home entertaining your younger siblings as they play with their pet bunny. possibly also teaching your siblings their math homework and then giving up because who in their right minds likes math?
“uhhh hyung, i think you are scaring the poor girl.” sunoo says. Heeseung lets you go. he cocks a brow at you.
“so, deal?” he says. as if you could say no. well, you could but that is only a first class ticket to unemployment and possibly death if they were bad people.
“deal.” you held out your hand to shake his. his hands were huge, it covers yours. funny how it strangely fit yours too well. you shiver.
“alright, your first task.” he stares right into your eyes, “be my wife.” your eyes widened. it shocked you and it seems like you weren’t the only one who was shocked too.
“hyung, are you sure about this?” the boy with dark blue hair says.
“yes, jungwon.”
“but heeseung hyung, you do know that if you declare you’re in a relationship. everyone who practically hates us will be after noona too?” the tallest boy says.
“which is why you and sunghoon hyung will be around her at all times. don’t leave her side.”
you wondered, what did the boy mean by ‘everyone who practically hates them, will be after you’. then it hit you, they were bad guys weren’t they? you were going to be associated with shady people. oh no.
“h-hey umm, if you don’t mind me asking but what do you guys do?” your voice was soft but surely enough for them all to hear. you were terrified if you voiced out they’d possibly harm you. sunoo pouts, he could easily read your expression.
“noona, don’t worry. we won’t harm you, at most we will harm the people who hurt you so you’re safest with us.” sunoo says.
“yeah, don’t worry. we will protect you from harm.” jake says.
“then what about my family?” heeseung steps forward and holds your hand.
“they will be fine, we can move them closer to us or we can get our spies to watch over them and protect them.”
“okay. umm, what do i have to do to be your…wife?” the other boys tilt their heads. “i’m sorry, i’ve never dated anyone and neither have i been offered to be someone’s wife.”
“you’ve never dated anyone? you look like you’ve dated at least 1 person in your life.” jake says.
“unfortunately, i’ve been single my entire life. i’ve only focused on school and i just finished college 3 weeks ago.”
“wait but college doesn’t end this early.”
“i finished earlier since they allowed me to.”
“and what course did you even take.”
“Business.” they were shocked. heeseung smirks.
“maybe you could be of use, my dear wife.” he says. you blushed and quickly looked away from them.
“I need to change, is there any bathroom around?”
“go up, straight and turn left.” jungwon instructs. you nod. “that’s heeseung hyung’s room, just use his bathroom. after all, you two are gonna be a wedded couple.” the younger boy smirks.
“jungwon.” heeseung sighs. he grabs your hand and pulls you along with him. he drags you up the stairs and into the bedroom before standing still in the middle of the room.
“i can’t change when you’re here though.”
“i’m going to be your husband though, so just change.”
“what?! no. we aren’t even real husband and wife. we don’t like each other and i’m just doing your task.”
he comes close to whisper in your ears, “we’ll have an official marriage cert so we will be officially married. which makes me, your official husband.” he steps back and smirks.
you grabbed the pillow on the bed and threw it at him. you didn’t care if this would get you fired, he was a pervert and you were absolutely disgusted.
“pervert!” you yelled. heeseung chuckles.
“i’m kidding. if you want to take a shower, go ahead and wash up. towels are in the bathroom. i’ll be waiting for you downstairs.” he winks before exiting the bedroom.
why did heeseung have to tease you like that? did all bad guys have to be so flirty and charming? or were you somehow attracted to bad people? no that’s not possible. you huffed and glared at the closed bedroom door.
“what have i seriously gotten myself into.”
you walked downstairs after changing and everyone literally watched you walk down the stairs. you didn’t like the attention and spotlight.
“why are you guys staring at me like that?”
“uhh sunoo, are you sure this outfit is appropriate for any of our eyes.” sunghoon asks. jake smacks the boy’s arm before pointing at heeseung. he had his arms folded and staring at them. “sorry, she’s your so-called ‘wife’ forgot.”
heeseung pulls off his blazer and wraps it around you, he holds it shut.
“don’t you guys have jobs to do? we still need to find clues as to where that idiot of a guy is.”
“right, sorry hyung.” the tallest boy bows. he goes to leave the room with sunghoon. jungwon and jake left together to enter another room. jay and sunoo remained.
“umm hyung, we kinda need you since we are working as a team.” sunoo says.
“jay, how about you go meet up with the people downstairs. i’m sure there are great investors to meet up.” heeseung says.
“yes, oh great lee heeseung.” jay bows. sunoo holds in his laughter while heeseung glares at jay. the both of them quickly left the area before heeseung could even say anything. they knew if they stayed longer, he would have possibly used his hyung card to whack them.
“idiots.” heeseung mumbles.
“uhh, i’m not exactly sure what to do…” heeseung turns to look at you. his gaze was intimidating but in some way, it flustered you. especially since he was so good looking.
“well, you need a ring and we need to register our marriage certificate so let’s go out.”
“but i haven’t clock out and technically, i’m still working. i have a shift until 10pm.” heeseung sighs.
“i’ll talk to the person-in-charge of you, you will be excused. this is more important than your job.”
“how is this more important than my job-” before you could even finish, heeseung holds your hands and lightly drags you out of the penthouse. there was another elevator down to the VIP garage. which you didn’t know existed because you were sure it was simply only for the 7 boys.
heeseung opens the door for you and you enter his-
“It’s the latest ferrari model.” heeseung says as he sees you gawking at how nice the exterior and interior of the car is.
“and how much is it exactly?”
“About 700-800 million won.” heeseung casually says as he starts up the car. your eyes widened. you feel like you should not be seated in such an expensive car.
“are you sure you are okay with me sitting in this car? i mean, if i scratch anything won’t that anger you?”
“the boys play rough all the time so no, i’m not worried over a tiny scratch. besides, you are already paying by being my wife. my earnings are also for you to share.”
“don’t tell me you’re a sugar daddy.”
“would you be surprised if i am?”
you gasp, “no way. are you actually one?” heeseung chuckles.
“no, i’ve never even dated anyone-” he shuts his mouth before clearing his throat, “i mean, i’ve dated someone before.”
“you know heeseung, you’re not that lame if you’ve never dated anyone. besides, i did mentioned i have never met anyone too since i’m too busy with school. I’m sure you had your reasons to not date anyone.”
“right.” he blushes, “any ideas of rings you’d like to get.”
“A simple one please.”
“simple one it is.” he says.
you entered a shop filled with high class jewellery. Diamond rings and necklaces everywhere. it sparkled like your eyes as you glance through the collections. heeseung smiles. he goes over to the worker.
“mr.lee, what would you be getting today.”
“a ring.” the worker smiles and nods.
“for the lady over there?”
“mhm, she’s the one.”
“judging by her appearance I think she suits these rings. let me just bring it out and you can call over to get her opinion on it.”
“thank you. oh and it’s no simple ring, rather a wedding ring.” the lady was quite shocked but she still manages to put on a smile. a fake smile. how could someone like you be marrying lee heeseung, just one of the seven charming owners of Decelis Resort.
“right on it, sir.” she says. heeseung scoffs once she leaves.
coming from a family full of liars, he could easily differentiate their fake expressions from their real expressions. it was honestly a game for heeseung and it baffled him how fake some people could be to suck up to someone handsome, not that he knows he is handsome. they’d never bat an eye for someone who was deemed ‘ugly’.
the lady comes back and shows heeseung the collection that she thought was perfect for you.
“(name)?” he calls out your name sweetly. you walked over to him and panned the collection. they were surely pretty but none suit your exact taste.
“mr-”
heeseung comes close to whisper, “call me babe or any sweet nickname. wouldn’t want someone to suspect that we actually aren’t married.” he moves back and pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear.
“so sorry dear, your hair was blocking my view of you.” heeseung says. your heart leaps.
“o-oh.” you feel your cheeks flame up, “thank you, babe.”
“anytime, love.” and…there goes your heart rate. you were starting to question if heeseung was lying about being single for all of his life because there is no way someone who is single can flirt and use such smooth vocabulary.
“now, what did you want to say before, love?”
“ah right, i was about to ask for your opinion for the ring design. i’m not entirely sure which rings suit me.” you blushed. heeseung pats your head. he scans through the collection and one of them catches his eyes.
“may i take a look at this?” he asks the lady. she nods and takes it out and carefully hands it to heeseung. heeseung delicately grabs your hand and slips the ring in. you stared at the ring.
it was twisted and intertwined with a line of small diamonds lacing one of the twists. surely sweet and simple enough for you. you looked up at heeseung and he smiles before turning to the lady.
“we’ll take this. Ah right, i have to get a ring too.” he turns to you, “care to choose a ring for me, love?”
“i’m not exactly sure what would suit you.”
“i’m not picky and definitely will never judge you.” he side eyes the lady seemingly indirectly calling her out on what she did before.
“alright.” you turned to the lady, “may i see the collection you have for wedding rings for men?”
“right this way.”
after shopping for the rings, you and heeseung went to the marriage officiant to get an official letter stating you two were married for real. they were surprised to see heeseung here since after all his private life was practically surrounded by cameras due to him being one of the top businessmen. they were of course shocked when he walked through the doors with a girl they did not know about. how did heeseung shield you away from cameras and paparazzi. not only that, how did you two even meet when you looked like a pretty average person and not part of some rich family.
those were the questions in their head as they watched you and heeseung sign the marriage letter together. then they saw the loving gaze heeseung gave you. well some sort, heeseung knew they were judging the both of you. he knows the public would act like this since it’s not common for an average person and someone as high-class as him to marry but was society this fucked up? yes, unfortunately it was.
the both of you left the place as an official married couple. heeseung’s phone rings, he goes to answer it and so you were left to wait for him as he finishes the call. once he does, he brings you over to the car and drives back to the hotel.
“you should sleep over. it’s easier for you to get to work on time without having to wake up early. it’s already pretty late.” heeseung says.
“no, its fine. my mom will be worried sick.”
“i see, in that case, i’ll drive you home and pick you up before work.” your eyes widened at heeseung’s words.
“no, it’s okay. you don’t have to drive me to work, you must be very busy with whatever. besides, we can’t exactly be seen as a couple in front of other staffs.”
“what’s so wrong about that?”
“they’ll think i got into this job through you or that i seduced you.”
heeseung snorts, “they don’t know the reason for us to even exist in the first place. Society is constantly judgmental. you don’t have to care about what they say. you’re living your own life.”
“I guess so but you seriously don’t have to pick me up tomorrow. my mom might question our relationship if you do.”
“I can just always tell your parents that i’m your boyfriend or better yet, your husband.”
“please don’t, she’ll think it’s a shotgun marriage and that i got married to you because we had a one night stand and now i’m pregnant.”
“will your mom really think that way.”
“you don’t know my mom, she’s insane.”
“maybe that’s why you are equally as insane.” heeseung jokes. you smacked his arm. “i’m kidding!”
“well, that’s not funny.” you pout. the car stops at a red light. heeseung unbuckles his seat belt and leans in to peck your lips. you gasp and before you could even question him, he speeds when the green light flashes.
“care to tell me your address now?” heeseung cocks his brow whilst smirking. you rolled your eyes playfully.
“it’s xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx.”
heeseung drives you home. it was silent and neither of you wanted to mention the little stunt heeseung had pulled. why did he suddenly peck you? was it just the slightly romantic air? why did his personality do a 180° flip? those were just a few questions that kept you awake, you couldn’t even sleep properly.
your alarm rings and you were shaken by your younger siblings waking you up.
“noona! help us choose what shoe to wear!!” the twins say.
“junyoung, jihoon. It’s too early in the morning.”
“well shoes are important!” junyoung stomps his little foot on the ground.
“yeah, very important!” jihoon added.
“alright, i’ll help. where is mom?”
“we tried to call her but i think she’s asleep.”
“that’s because it’s 6am. your classes don’t start until 8am. i have to get ready for work. just go back to sleep and mom will help you, okay?”
“fine! you are of no help, noona.” junyoung huffs before walking away. jihoon goes to almost agree but he stops himself. he gives you a hug and apologises for junyoung’s behaviour.
your twin brothers, junyoung and jihoon. they are both 10. junyoung was more chaotic compared to jihoon. jihoon was the nicer one of the twin pair, he only agreed with junyoung whenever it was right but whenever junyoung was in the wrong, he was quick to disagree. in this case, he did not believe you were of no help. in fact to jihoon, you were the best sister he could have. he wouldn’t trade you for anyone else.
you quickly showered and put on your work attire. somehow, you were thankful that you bought extra pairs in case. you had to return the clothes the boys lent you, you felt somehow in debt. maybe you were considering heeseung quite literally saved you from being sold to a creep. you quickly left a note at the fridge to inform your mom you had already gone off to work. yes, you had a very early shift and ended extremely late.
you quickly clocked in and checked your roster. cleaning duty. at least you wouldn’t be stuck with those two girls-
you heard their laughter from down the hallway. you weren’t one to be mean but their laughter sounded obnoxious. you glanced back at the roster and quickly realised…
“great, stuck with them for practically the whole day. they are probably just going to make me do their work. as per usual.” you sighed. they stepped into the room and scoffed when they saw you.
“you. why are you here so early.”
“sorry, i shall leave. I have business to attend to.” you say.
“hold on.” you paused in your step.
“take this with you.” they hand you a broom and basic cleaning supplies.
“you didn’t think we’d do the work right?”
“as your newbie orientation, you shall do extra work so you can get used to this hard labour.” they laughed. you nodded and went your own way.
you had no energy to deal with them early in the morning. you dropped the bucket of supplies onto the ground and got ready to clean the lobby. it was clean for the most parts but you were sure after last night’s ball, there had to be something amidst the clean surface. you mopped, swept, cleaned the windows and took care of the plants all by yourself until 12pm in the afternoon. lunch time finally came around and you sat down in the staff room.
heeseung pops his head in and you were startled by it. you were thankful that no one was around because it wouldn’t be great if anyone saw you with one of the owners of Decelis Resort.
you pulled heeseung inside and locked the door behind you. you folded your arms at the boy.
“why are you here?”
“can’t i visit my own wife?” you covered his mouth.
“don’t say that out loud. with the people i’m working with today, i’m sure they would be the type to listen in behind closed doors.” heeseung pries your hand off his lips.
“haven’t i told you to ignore the judging?”
“you have but these two literally bully me-” you cover your mouth.
“bully you? what did they do?”
“nothing, mr.lee-”
“also haven’t i told you that you are now my wife, you should call me by name or at least a nickname.”
“no one is around.”
“anyone can be around. you don’t know how my world works.”
“fine, since i don’t know how your world works, then why don’t you teach me.”
“that’s why i came here, to bring you over since i have some business meeting to attend to. i need my ‘wife’ to come with me so that everyone can get all shocked.”
“you could have said that first before barging in like that.” heeseung sighs.
“i was going to but you got all scared in case your co-workers heard me.”
“can you really blame me? I am suddenly married and my husband is the owner of the resort. they’d freak out.”
“whatever, i’ll meet you upstairs. don’t be late and here, the keycard.” heeseung goes up first. you rolled your eyes.
why was he so snappy today. you didn’t bother clocking out since you were still going to be in the hotel. i guess it was best that you should go up as quickly as possible to prevent heeseung from getting mad at you.
“first time getting snapped up by heeseung hyung?” ni-ki says as he leans on the elevator walls. “it’s normal, he is just stressed over work. since you are his wife now noona, you could relieve his stress.” the elevator dings and ni-ki leaves the confined space before you could even answer him.
“what did that boy mean?” you wondered. then it hit you, you gasp and covered your mouth in shock. “who taught him such dirty things?”
“hi noona.” sunoo waves and smiles. you smiled back at him.
“where is heeseung?”
“Mmm, i think in his office. probably handling some stuff. me and jay hyung need to go somewhere, do tell him since you are visiting him noona.”
“alright.” sunoo slightly bows and leaves. you went up the steps and looked around for heeseung’s office. surprisingly, you found it with ease. you knocked on the door and you could hear a small ‘come in’ before you entered. the room was huge, tons of books on each shelf. heeseung sat on the leather chair, glasses adorning his face, his tie loosened up and he muttered grunts and curses as he types away on his desk.
“you wanted me up here?” you say. heeseung briefly looks up from his laptop, his eyebrow lifting as he looks at you.
“ah right, you’re 10 minutes late.”
“i’m sorry, i was talking to sunoo. right, he said he and jay went out.” heeseung sighs before nodding.
“alright.” he stands up and hands you a red dress. “i have some business to attend to and i think it’s about time i show them my…wife.” heeseung grabs your hand and kisses it. you were flustered.
“umm where are we going?”
“gambling.”
“i’m sorry?”
“we are going to meet with the client. this client is apparently quite the ladies’ man so it would be great to have you around to strike a deal with him.”
“oh but what if he…umm you know, tries something on me.”
“don’t worry. you’re safe in our hands.” he charmingly smiles.
you went to heeseung’s bathroom to change and you realised that the dress was extremely provocative. you looked at yourself in the mirror, eyes trailing each part of you. the dress was a spaghetti strapped velvety red dress with a slit starting from your thighs and down to your ankles. who were you? this wasn’t how you’d normally dress. you breathed in and out and confidently left the bathroom. heeseung was waiting for you, he settled right on his bed as he scrolled and typed on his phone.
“okay, i’m done.” you say. heeseung lifts his head to look at you and he was certainly in awe.
“perfect, now the hair and makeup needs to be done.”
“huh? I don’t have my makeup with me.”
“oh don’t worry.” he snaps his fingers and 2 ladies enter his bedroom with 2 huge makeup boxes. “they will take care of you.” heeseung smirks before leaving the bedroom.
they dolled you up to perfection and smiled once they were done.
“i never thought i’d see lee heeseung with a woman.” one of them say. you tilt your head.
“what do you mean?”
“ah well, heeseung kinda doesn’t hang out with any girls. after his whole family fiasco, he was never exactly keen on dating or let alone getting married.”
“what happened to his family-”
“ladies, i see you’ve done up my wife beautifully. we are already running a little late so we have to get going. thank you for your hard work.” heeseung says as he grabs you. the makeup stylist bowed at him as he left with you.
the ride there was a little quiet, you didn’t exactly know what to say or ask. you two weren’t exactly really in love so you couldn’t talk like normal couples do. heeseung parks the car once you two had arrived at the place. he holds out a hand for you to hold and you happily took it, he leads you into the building. everyone’s eyes were on the both of you, wondering how and when the lee heeseung got a girlfriend (or well wife).
“sir choi.” heeseung holds out his free hand to shake the person’s hand.
“mr.lee fancy seeing you here and without your usual partners.” the guy tilts his head at you before smirking. “who is this fine lady?”
“ah.” heeseung’s hand travels down to your waist, he tugs you closer before throwing the older male a smirk. “this is (name). my wife.” he smiles. you hear gasps from the other girls that were beside the client.
“oh, mr.lee has found a wife. never would have seen the day. she’s really beautiful.”
“thank you, sir. now, i am sure you owe me a game of poker.” the older male laughs.
“of course, mr.lee. we can certainly play a game of poker as we discuss our business together.”
“hold on for a second. I need to talk to my dear wife.” heeseung says.
“go ahead. i shall set up the game for us first.” heeseung bows before dragging you somewhere secluded.
“so, what am i supposed to do?” you asked.
“simple, just sit there and look pretty. he will get distracted by you and your beauty.”
“well, i don’t exactly look pretty. those other girls are shining more than me.”
“look, you may not know this but you’re really distracting me right now. which means, you’re pretty so don’t look down on yourself.” you blushed. “jay and sunoo are here too. take this.” he hands you the other side of the airpods.
“hey pretty.” jay says.
“jay, could you not flirt right now.” heeseung scowls at the younger boy.
“whoops sorry, you are her husband. my bad. i’ll back off.”
“hi hi noona.” sunoo says.
“hi sunoo.”
“okay enough with catching up, jay you have eyes on the guy. let me know his moves.”
“on it hyung.”
“sunoo, you’ll come in when it’s time. you know what to do.”
“okay hyung.”
“(name).” heeseung stares at you.
you felt flustered under his gaze, “y-yes?”
“you are going to need to act.”
“don’t have i have to sit there and just look pretty.”
“yes but try to act all flirty. send seductive looks to him. that will really get him distracted.”
“umm, i’ll try.” heeseung chuckles.
“you don’t have to if you can’t, your job after all is just to be by my side tonight.”
“no, i’ll try to act. you did save me after all, it’s the least i could do for you.”
heeseung’s heart shouldn’t be racing as fast as right now. you looked adorable, well if he wasn’t looking at the outfit you were wearing. he nodded before bringing you over to where his client was.
“shall we play now?” heeseung sends his signature smirk to him. mr.choi laughs.
“eager to play, i see. in that case, let the games begin.”
the game starts, heeseung throws you a few glances. you nodded at him.
“noona, we need intel.” jay says.
“well, i’m not exactly great at poker so i don’t really know what is going on.”
“It’s okay noona. jay hyung, knows how to play and he knows tactics. he has eyes on mr.choi so you don’t have to worry about a thing. just tell us how he’s acting since we can’t see his expressions as great as you.” sunoo explains.
“for one thing, he keeps throwing me lustful looks.”
“guess you are doing well at being seductive.” jay says. you hear a smack from the other side of the call.
“forgive jay hyung, continue noona.” sunoo says.
“umm, he just has been throwing those like confident looks. like he knows he is going to win.”
“that’s because he believes so. mr.choi always wins poker matches by cheating.”
“oh.”
“heeseung hyung, just a heads up. he has an ace card under his sleeve and he will use it soon.” heeseung scoffs under his breath, he tilts his head to crack it before smirking at mr.choi.
“good god, he’s hot.” you whisper. it was loud enough for the boys to hear and yes including heeseung. it boosted his confidence though.
“noona, we heard that you know.” jay says. you blushed.
“ah, whoops. Sorry.” you were embarrassed, for a split second you forgot you were even wearing the airpods.
“alright, i’m pretty sure he is about to strike now. noona, you need to distract him.” jay says.
“umm.” you stood up and walked over to heeseung.
“babe, we should go.” your arms slither around heeseung’s waist. he smirks.
“of course, sorry to keep you waiting my lady.” mr.choi clenches his fist and slams the table.
“no one is allowed to leave in the middle of the game.”
“uh oh. hey, you think it’s time to call the others over. more specifically, sunghoon hyung and ni-ki?” sunoo says.
“yes of course.” heeseung answers. sunoo knows it was for both his question and mr.choi’s warning.
“noona, i think you should run to the bathroom. it’s going to get bloody. i’ll grab you.” sunoo says.
“i’m sorry, dear. I need to run the bathroom for a bit. you may continue your game.” you tried walking out but they blocked you.
“like i said, no one can leave in the middle of the game. including escorts.”
“we’re fucked.” you mumbled. you noticed someone walking in. it was jay.
“sorry to disturb the game mr.choi but i don’t think this was part of the deal.” jay puts on white gloves and then takes out a silenced pistol, he pushes back his slick back hair.
“mr.park.” mr.choi says in a distressed voice.
“how silly of you to have forgotten that the park family has joined forces with lee corporation.” jay scoffs. “you know how my family deals with people who don’t pay up.” jay cocks the pistol and points it straight to mr.choi. mr.choi’s personal bodyguards stepped in front of him, protecting him. jay laughs.
“ah, have you also forgotten. I have eyes everywhere.” a gunshot was heard and mr.choi falls flat onto the ground. you yelped, heeseung holds you close.
“heeseung hyung, you may leave. I have business to attend to. oh don’t worry about the money. it shall be deposited by the end of the day, sunoo is checking it.”
“do you need anymore help?” heeseung asks. jay laughs.
“just a clean up help? we need to make this massacre look like an accident.”
“I’ll dial for jake and jungwon for clean up help.” heeseung leads you out to where sunoo was. he sits in the driver’s seat and drives off.
“what about jay?”
“oh, don’t worry. he would never get into a horrible situation. he has help from his family.” sunoo says.
“his family is in it too?”
“yup. ah, i wish to have parents like his. they are really cool though. as for mine…they abandoned me.” sunoo says.
“i’m so sorry.”
“oh, it’s fine. you don’t have to pity me, noona. my parents are my enemies too, seems like karma got them the best though. hell sure looks great on their death certificate.” sunoo says with a happy smile on his face. your jaw dropped.
truly bone chilling for someone to just say so. heeseung chuckles.
“you’ll get used to this. sunoo usually says the grimmest things with a smile all the time.”
“i don’t think i’ll be able to do so.”
“well, don’t worry. i’m here.”
“eww hyung, you aren’t even a real couple. what’s with these flirty comments. it makes me wanna gag.” sunoo says. heeseung laughs.
a month passes by since that incident, your life was still unfortunately miserable considering those 2 maids were constantly on your ass. oh and they had found out you and heeseung were married which made it 10 times worse. heeseung doesn’t know this because you kept quiet and never told him about it since you didn’t want him to do anything drastic.
which you found weird considering, yes he was your husband but you were never a thing from the start. why was he constantly doing things for you? what if…what if he-
“yeah, there is no doubt in my mind that lee heeseung is in love with you.” danbi says. you smacked her arm.
“no, danbi unnie. he can’t fall for me. this is a fake marriage and well i can’t date him because he is a rich CEO and people like him.”
“to you it’s a fake marriage but everyone already knows you are in a real marriage. you even got real marriage certs, you can literally skip the dating phase and go straight to your hot CEO husband.”
“unnie, this isn’t right.”
“and so is denying your own feelings for mr.ceo. come on (name). give him a chance to melt your heart. actually, i’m sure he has already melted that heart of yours. considering he does things to you constantly that makes your heart go crazy.” she huffs. “this is descrimination to single people aka me.”
“unnie.”
“shut it. your hot husband is coming over.” you froze.
“we need to go somewhere again. they want dinner with the couple.” heeseung smiles. you playfully rolled your eyes.
“do your clients want to or do you want to?”
“Both.” heeseung flirts.
“you two never fail to make me third wheel.” danbi says. heeseung laughs.
“come on, let’s go. my lady.” he holds out his hand and you happily took it. just as you were about to leave, the two (read: annoying) maids came up to you and heeseung.
“how could you leave in the middle of a shift? moreover, with the owner of Decelis Resort? disgusting, you’re just a wh*re.” heeseung scoffs.
“being a pick me girl i see. well, today’s a good day for the both of you. i’m assigning you two to a new job. a better one.”
the two girls gasp, “really?”
“yes, congrats. you’ve been promoted to unemployment.”
“what?” danbi holds in her laughter watching the two girls frantically panic.
“but we did nothing.”
“bullying surely isn’t nothing. after all, (name) is married to the owner of the Decelis Resort which makes her the co-owner of this place. if you insult the co-owner, it leads to expulsion. am i wrong? i’m just following the rules.” heeseung says. the two girls looked at you.
“we are sorry. we need this job. our parents will freeze our cards if we don’t work here.” they begged you. you turned to heeseung.
“well mrs.lee, you make the call. i’ll meet up in the penthouse.” he pecks your forehead.
once he leaves, the girls scoff.
“seriously, do you think you have the power? we only take orders from lee heeseung and the other enhypen boys.”
“ah, i came back to say. the expulsion will be done immediately so you may start packing your things right now ladies.” heeseung pops in. he leaves again and they turned back to you in shock. you simply shrug your shoulders.
“good luck.” you say.
in the car after changing into your outfit and putting on your makeup, heeseung drives with one hand on the wheel and the other holding your hands.
“so, who are we having dinner with?” you asked.
“someone who has worked for my family.”
“oh, it’s a big deal huh.”
“not exactly. we are having dinner with him because he may know who killed my parents.”
“right. again, i’m sorry about your parents’ death.” he rubs your hand.
“it’s okay. it happened already and there is no way i can bring them back.” heeseung smiles at you. your heart flutters. heeseung stops at a red light.
“heeseung, do you like me?” he turns to you.
“and if do? what are you going to do about it?” you unbuckled your belt and leaned forward to kiss heeseung. he quickly responds to it. it turns green and cars start honking at heeseung. he pulls away first and drives. you put on your belt again.
“i like you too.” you say. heeseung bites down a smile from appearing. he kisses your knuckles.
the both of you arrived at the restaurant, it was going really well until you felt something off. you excused yourself to the bathroom and dialed for jake.
“jake, something feels off. i think we need backup.”
“are you sure? i don’t think heeseung’s family connection would do anything to him.”
“jake, didn’t you say heeseung’s family was in debt to the mafia?”
“shit. we’ll come over right now. keep us updated for now.”
“alright.” the call ends and you went back to the table.
“love, do you want anymore desserts?” heeseung says.
“oh no, it’s okay. I’m really full right now.”
“can’t believe that our lee heeseung that we knew since he was young is married.” mr.kim says.
“that is right! you’re so grown up heeseung-ah.” mrs.kim praises. heeseung blushes.
“ah right, i forgot to ask.”
“ask away.” mr.kim says.
“do you happen to know who killed my parents? or did the killer ever leave any clues.” mr.kim was shocked.
“heeseung, did you not know?”
“know what?”
“your parents they are-” the door bursts open, they covered mr.kim lips and dragged mrs.kim out. they held you and heeseung at gunpoint and so you were forced to put your hand up. they were about to question heeseung when the other boys walked in.
“hey, big one. pick on someone your size.” ni-ki gestures for him to fight. the bigger guy runs to ni-ki but he was quick to avoid and then strike on the guy’s skull. you winced.
“missed us?” jungwon smirks. enhypen never knew who exactly these people were but any time heeseung tried to investigate about his parents’ death, they always appeared and caused chaos.
“sunoo, could you bring (name) out?” heeseung says.
“of course.” you quickly grabbed onto sunoo’s hand and he tries to lead you out of the room but there were people blocking the way.
“not again.” you sighed.
“noona, could you step back.”
“sure?”
sunoo breathes in, pulls out a pocket pistol and shoots twice before they could even react. he spins the gun and blows it out.
“come on noona.” sunoo smiles. you were still in shock. “oh? why is there a tissue paper on the ground?” sunoo picks it up.
“are alive?” it’s written in lipstick. you were thinking about it and then it hit you.
“heeseung’s parents are still alive.” sunoo gasps.
“we have to tell hyung.”
“well we can’t exactly tell them-” the 6 boys walked out of the door and shut it close.
“hey umm, we need a clean up. make it look like an accident as per usual, thanks.” jay ends the call.
“what’s wrong?” sunghoon says.
“Heeseung.” you hand heeseung the tissue paper.
“are alive? what does that even mean?” ni-ki tilts his head.
“my parents are alive.” heeseung says.
“they are what?” jake says.
“how can that even be possible. they’ve been dead for literally half of heeseung hyung’s lifetime and he is literally 40.” ni-ki says. heeseung glares at the younger boy.
“i’m not 40, ni-ki.” heeseung says.
“well you do seem like you’re ageing fast. white hair does not suit you by the way.” sunghoon says.
“can you not.” heeseung growls.
“well what are we going to do now?” jungwon says.
“find my parents and where mr.kim and mrs.kim have been abducted to.”
“is noona coming though.” sunoo says.
“well yes, she is my wife…for real.” heeseung says. you blushed. heeseung holds onto your hand.
“gross.” jay says.
-
taglist[open]: @my5colors @wtfhyuck @nyfwyeonjun @thealatte @dimplewonie @nuttykittypainter
(not me forgetting to put the taglist, sorry🙏🏻)
#the mafia#enhypen mafia#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen imagine#enhypen fluff#enhypen angst#enhypen x reader#enhypen x reader imagines#love comes with a price#heeseung#heeseung imagines#heeseung imagine#heeseung angst#heeseung fluff#lee heeseung#lee heeseung imagines#lee heeseung imagine#lee heeseung angst#lee heeseung fluff#heeseung enha#enhypen heeseung
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Ending It All Part 2 (C.E)
A/N: Here you go guys. Much awaited part 2 is here. I am so in love with this particular fan fiction and hope you guys like it. If you want me to write any blurbs related to this series, do let me know.I am open to requests.
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Part 1
Chris Evans Fan fiction (Fan fiction Masterlist)
Summary: Chris regrets divorcing you and he tries to mend the relationship. However, you have already moved on with Tom Hiddleston and are quite happy. He has to just stand back while you and your children become closer to Tom and it is all his fault.
Warnings: Angst all the way.
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“Coming in?” Chris turned his face towards you with a questioning look in his eyes.
“No, I have some work. Just wanted to drop the kids off myself.” Your ex husband’s house was on your way so you just saved him a trip.
“Not even for coffee, darling?”
“Sorry but I will have to say no.” You still got flustered when he called you with nicknames. You had once decided to tell him to stop calling you with all these terms of endearment but you couldn’t build up the courage to do it.
It has been over a year since your divorce and the moment you think you are over him, he is right there to bring those feelings back. You were a mess when he moved out and you had to see him on the weekends for the kids. It looked like you were drowning and you couldn’t come up for fresh air. It was exhausting but after several months, it didn’t hurt that much. It didn’t feel like your heart was tearing into shreds. You felt numb but that was better than feeling like your heart was being ripped out of your chest.
“That’s fine. See you Sunday?”
These were the only few sentences that were spoken between the two of you since the divorce. This was your new normal and you were starting to adjust to it. “Yeah, bye.”
“Who wants pancakes?” Sighing, he turned around and asked in a fake, cheerful voice. He didn’t get to be disappointed. These were the the seeds that he sow and he had to reap the results.
“I do.” A collective chorus came from the living room as they had already started to play with Dodger. Dodger was adopted from a shelter home about two weeks into the divorce. Loneliness was a destructive force and Chris hadn’t come to that realization until he was sitting in his home at eight, all alone. No laughter, no mess, no companionship. He went out that day and got a new dog. The apartment was eating him alive because it was a reminder of his ‘new life’. More like his ruined life.
“Daddy, you goin’ to be there for my match?” Jace looked up at his father and hoped that he wasn’t going to say no. There have been too many occasions this past year where he was not there for his children like Easter or Mia’s first day of school. He was either too busy with his career or he couldn’t bear to be with his family knowing that he wouldn’t be going home with them. He wasn’t strong enough to handle that truth.
“I’ll be there but I have work afterwards so I can only be there for half time.” The apologetic tone was all too familiar to the kids now so they just stayed quiet.
Chris noticed their disappointed look and continued, “When I get back, we’ll go to Disneyland for the whole weekend.”
“Mommy and Tommy will be going as well?”
Stopping in between making the pancakes, he asked with a venom laced tone, “Tommy who, Jace?”
“Mommy’s new friend. We like him.” Your son continued petting the dog without realizing the damage he is doing to his father. “New friend” was always a code for boyfriend and Chris didn’t know what to do with that information.
He knew that you had gone on a few dates with Tom Hiddleston because of the paparazzi. But he didn’t know that you both were serious. Your kids knew about him so it was pretty damn serious.
“He won’t be going with us.” Speaking with finality, he resumed cooking. You were his and that was not going to change. He knew he was being unfair but when it came to you, he lost all rationality.
“But he is our new dad.” Mia whined from her place and Chris just looked at her with a wounded look. His babygirl was putting someone else in his place.
His voice boomed throughout the house and both the kids looked at him with tears in their widened eyes, “I’m your only dad. Don’t you ever say that.”
“‘m sorry, daddy. Didn’t mean to make you mad.” Her chin wobbled and Chris was quick to realize his mistake. It was not your children’s fault. It was not your fault. It was his fault.
“Not your fault, baby. But you only have one daddy and that’s me.” Kissing her forehead, he wiped the single tear that managed to escape her blue eyes.
“’kay.” The kids got distracted again but Chris did not forget. He was still seething from the inside because Tom may have taken you away from him but he damn well couldn’t take his children.
They all get ice cream afterwards and the kids fall asleep in their rooms that Chris built from scratch. It was a lengthy process because he just kept remembering the times when he decorated their nursery with you. Such a beautiful memory and he was ruining it. The guilt ate him up inside when he realized that he may not get to ever decorate a nursery for your children again. He may not get to expand his family with you again. Again, it was his fault.
“Sorry, ‘m late. Work was hectic today.” Everything was so busy today because your boss signed up a new contract and he has been impossible to work with. You just wanted to go home and sleep for the whole week.
“It’s okay. They’re sleepin’ upstairs. Listen, we need to talk.” He was too consumed by anger and hurt to notice that you were too exhausted for everything.
“Go on.” You urged him, figuring that he might say that he won’t be able to make it to your son’s match. This was what most of your conversations were based on; him saying that he is too busy to be present at occasions related to your children.
“Why are my children referring to your boyfriend as dad?” He nothing but spat that sentence.
“I- I didn’t know about any of this. I’ll talk to them.” Stuttering, you tried to mediate the situation but nothing seemed to get through to him at the moment.
“No need. I already did that but for next time, keep your boyfriends away from my children.”
“Our children and I don’t let anyone near my children. We are serious.” You were offended by his crude tone and you weren’t just going to let him walk all over you.
“You can’t be serious with him. As a matter of fact, you can’t be serious with anyone.” Your ex husband declared it like it was a law. He didn’t know how to react to what you said. All the pain was converted into anger because that was his current form of expression.
“Are you serious?” This was all too much for you to handle. How could he say that?
“Yes. You only belong with me. I regret it so much (Y/N).” Chris’s expressions told you where he was going.
“Oh, stop. You can’t just do that. Can’t come bargin’ in my life and mess it all up again. I am happy.”
Chris reached out his hand but you took a step back. He was not allowed to touch you anymore. “I was mistaken. My career is not above you, darlin’. Never was.”
“You made me feel worthless. You made me feel as if I was the reason our marriage ended. Won’t allow myself to get sucked back into this relationship.”
“I know I broke our family. I tore us apart and didn’t even apologize for it properly. I’m so fucking sorry, baby.” There was a stream of tears running down his face and you wanted to wipe them away but you resisted.
There were still times when you wished that you were still happily married to Chris. That you still had your perfect, little family. The divorce made you feel worthless and lonely. There were times when you couldn’t even look at your children because they were the exact replica of your ex husband. You once adored the fact that they were his carbon copy. However, now you couldn’t help but get angry. How could he leave little pieces of himself behind and think that you could move on with your life.
It was all because you were with another man. He never said all these things when you were alone and you suffered from depression. There were days when you couldn’t get out of bed to get your kids ready for school. You knew that Jace had informed him because he was really worried about you and he always shared his troubling thoughts with Chris. But he didn’t do anything about it. He stayed quiet and you had to pull all the pieces back together yourself. It was all tape and glue. Your ex husband didn’t get to come back and dismantle your progress. You wouldn’t let him.
“You can’t do this. Can’t come back. I am with Tom now so stop trying to fix things that you already broke.” Your face was red with anger and all the energy was drained out of your body.
“Please, just give me a chance.”
“No!” You couldn’t choose Chris again. You had to choose yourself. You chose to think about your needs and your feelings for the first time in seven years. That’s why you agreed to go on a date with Tom. He surpassed your expectations the first time and you knew that he could be your partner. No one could compare to Chris but Tom made his own place in your heart and you were glad about it. You continued on, “Tom is good for me so please don’t ruin my happiness again.”
Tom was great. He was good with the kids and he was slowly becoming an integral part of your life. You still missed Chris because that man was the love of your life for seven years and those feelings can’t just disappear with a single piece of paper. You were glad to have Tom in your life and you knew that as time would pass, you will love him with your whole heart. However, a small part of you would never forget Chris and would always wonder about the what ifs. What if you were still together? What if you had more children? What it you got to grow old together? Broken dreams are what hurts the most.
“I don’t want to be a cause of that. Not again. But I want to make things right.” He unintentionally came closer to you, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. Sorry I wasn’t there for our kids. Sorry that I broke you, baby.”
“A sorry doesn’t fix anything.” His chest was hallowing from inside out but he didn’t want to back down. Not now. Not ever.
“Just answer one question for me. Are you truly happy?” A tremble was prominent in his voice but you tried to ignore it.
“I-I am. For a long time, I wasn’t but I am now.” You spoke with such conviction that he knew you were over him.
You would always love Chris but now it was time for you to move on with your life. It was time to leave the past and delve into the future. Chris would always own a piece of your heart but you are going to allow Tom to have an opportunity as well. You will open your heart again to love. You were sure now.
“Okay. I will get the kids for you.” He backed off like he promised he would. You knew at that moment that it was all over.
Watching you drive away with his kids was heart breaking for him and he just watched helplessly. Chris still wanted to cry, beg and apologize. He wanted you to take him back but it was all his fault. He ruined you once, he couldn’t do it again. He couldn’t interrupt your new life. It doesn’t all revolve around him but he was okay to remain on the sidelines while you enjoy your life. He will be there for you if you needed him.
You are happy and that should be enough for him but he wants to be selfish again. He wants to fight for you but it’s all too late. You were with someone else. He lost his chance.
Wednesday rolled in pretty quickly and Chris dreaded going to the match. You were going to be there with your new boyfriend but he didn’t want to miss his son’s game. He could only be there till half time already so it wouldn’t be that awkward.
“I just wanted to be here for Jace. Won’t cause any problems.” Chris took a seat beside Mia when he saw you shifting uncomfortably. The seat that should have belonged to him was currently being occupied by your boyfriend but Chris just bottled up all his feelings. It was not right to still think of you as his wife.
“It’s okay. Let’s just forget about everything.” You wanted to move on and did not want anything to hold you back.
“Okay. Mia, you want Kit Kat?” Offering her a large chocolate bar, he started talking with his daughter so that he could distract himself from you and Tom.
“What is happening, love?” Tom questioned when he saw that his former co-star did not even glance at him properly.
Chris and Tom were not the best of buds but they were still good acquaintances. He thought that dating you wouldn’t be a problem because Scarlett had informed him that Chris was the one who asked for divorce. However, this situation made him realize that Chris was jealous. He still had feelings for you and Tom didn’t know how to react to that.
“Nothing of importance. Let’s just focus on my baby boy.” Saying that, you cheered for Jace as he made his first goal. He was an exceptional player like his father and you knew that he would pursue football as his career. Jace was really passionate about football. If Chris didn’t become an actor then he would have definitely tried out for football.
There were times when he used to take you to the park so you would play with him. It was your thing. Maybe he had replaced you with someone by now as well but what you didn’t know was that Chris had stopped playing football altogether. Like many things in his life, it reminded him of you and it was just too much to bear.
“You are doing great, buddy.”Jace immediately asked Chris to pick him up as you gave him his Captain America water bottle. It was half time and Chris had to leave for shooting. He was getting late but he couldn’t bring himself to leave.
“Thank you, mommy. Ollie doesn’t listen to me that much so coach is angry at him.” Babbling on, he rested his head on his father’s shoulder.
“Okay, buddy. I have to leave now but I will call you when your game is finished.”
“Won’t be going with us to Chick-fil-A?”
“Uhh-” He cluelessly glanced at you because he didn’t know what his son was talking about.
“I wanted to give him a treat after the match.” Tom butted into the conversation to prove that he was a part of the kid’s lives as well.
Chris could have actually made it to the restaurant because he would be free in an hour tops. However, he decided against it. He had to take a step back for you. Of course, he would be there for his children but Tom should be given a fair chance as well.
“I won’t be able to make it buddy. You enjoy with Mommy and Tom. I’ll take you and Mia to Disneyland this weekend as I promised.”
“Okay, daddy. Love you.”
“Love you too, baby.” Giving him to you, he turned to leave. It was hard for him to do this but it had to be done. Chris wiped his eyes discreetly as he saw you all laughing together. This was his fault and he would have to bear the consequences.
Hope you guys enjoyed it!!
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A/N: This story had me in tears from the very start. I cried when I was writing it. Again, I am open to blurbs for this series and other requests. Tell me if you want to be added to my tag list.
Tag list: @peculiarpenman, @kalopsia-flaneur, @justile, @iguessweallcrazyithinktho, @jessyballet, @caanyoonmoon, @coldmuffinpartycloud, @marvelfansworld, @agnesk, @lauracontisstuff, @deepintothenature, @xcaptain-winterx, @nostxlgia18, @sophiaedits , @luckyladycreator2, @mrspeacem1nusone
Like, comment and reblog.
P.S. If you want blurbs and epilogue related to this series, please send in requests. I will need some ideas.
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#rachelleblodgettwrites#my writing#tv shows#wattpad#chris evans#chris evans fic#chris evans fluff#chris evans angst#chris evans x reader#chris evans x wife!reader#chris evans x kids#chris evans x female reader#chris evans x you#dad chris evans#steve rogers x y/n#andy barber angst#andy barber x female reader#captain america#mcu#my imagination
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Quackity and Schlatt’s Relationship - More Complicated Then You Think
(this is all /rp and about the characters from the dream smp! pls assume i have the dignity not to write analysis of youtubers)
recently there was a bit of discourse surrounding the relationship between Quackity and Schlatt floating around on tumblr. tho i never saw the original post that sparked the conversation, i did see a few posts that were inspired by it mentioning how they disliked that the original post implied that Quackity and Schlatt were mutually abusive and/or equally bad for each other
since i never saw the original post, i can't be sure if that's what the op meant to imply. it's not really my place to speak about a post that i never got the chance to read. BUT the conversation that was caused by the post in question did get me thinking about how this fandom treats the relationship between Quackity and Schlatt and how little nuance there is in discussions about it
now before i say anything else, i want to make a few things clear:
i don't think Quackity and Schlatt’s relationship is mutually abusive. no need to worry about hearing that from this post
i don't look down on ppl who have different interpretations of their relationship
there will be potentially triggering content in this analysis. i will place a quick warning whenever i think one is needed!
their relationship is romantic in canon and therefore i’ll be treating it as romantic
alright now that we’ve gotten all of that out of the way, we can finally get on with the analysis! i apologize for how long this is gonna be
part 1: let's talk relationship!
i think we can all agree that Quackity and Schlatt’s relationship was not exactly a healthy one. tho it didn't start out that way, it certainly turned into what could be read as abusive or toxic (i personally read their relationship as being abusive in its later half due to evidence provided by the text, but i understand if others prefer to view it as just toxic instead)
but what happened that led to their partnership ending so badly? what caused all of this mess?
well, it was a lot of things. but we will get to that later. let's talk relationship first!
from the very beginning, Quackity and Schlatt’s relationship was pretty one-sided. tho they both clearly liked each other as friends/partners in crime both before and after the election (yes they did interact before the election!) Quackity was also interested in Schlatt romantically- something that Schlatt wasn't fully committed to
as we all know from the infamous date stream and from a few other moments, Quackity and Schlatt enjoyed playfully flirting with each other- tho it was pretty obvious that Quackity was more serious about it then Schlatt was even tho Schlatt considered Quackity to be very attractive
in my opinion, Quackity is someone who wants a long term relationship, while Schlatt is more interested in flings. this can be seen in Schlatt refusing to marry Quackity and rejecting most of his advances while Quackity tried his best to convince him to feel otherwise. Tommy put it best: Quackity is just one of Schlatt’s many bitches U_U
to Quackity, the romantic aspect of their relationship was very important. because Schlatt never actually shot him down or told him that he didn't feel the same way, Quackity took that to mean that they were truly in love. Schlatt on the other hand wasn't very invested in the romantic side of things but clearly valued Quackity’s looks and his support as an ally against Pogtopia so he never fully rejected Quackity’s advances
this might not seem like too big of a deal considering the other things that happened between them, but i think it shows part of the nature of their relationship. there is a lot of miscommunication and, on Schlatt’s end, manipulation of emotions. love is a strong motivator for loyalty and Schlatt is a smart guy who would know how to use that to his advantage
but that isn't to say that Schlatt didn't ever care about Quackity!
Schlatt is a complicated guy and figuring out when he's actually being genuine can be pretty difficult. but i think there are some moments that point to Schlatt genuinely caring about Quackity
when he was alive, Schlatt was pretty paranoid. not as paranoid as Wilbur, but certainly up there. but there were never any times where he truly questioned Quackity’s loyalties after his first day as president. Schlatt also seemed truly upset that Quackity betrayed him, bringing up their status as partners in crime while ranting about how much it hurt him and singling Quackity out while talking about how he had been abandoned during his time of need
Schlatt also spent a lot of time sulking after Quackity betrayed him and whining to Ponk about needing a new bitch. this is in contrast to how angry he was after Tubbo betrayed him- both during and after the execution
there is also the situation with the Big Man Gym
after being dead for a while, Schlatt contacted Quackity despite them leaving off on bad terms and asked for him to visit him in his cave gym. when Quackity showed up, Schlatt talked about how he valued their relationship and the good times they had together. tho this can easily be seen as emotional manipulation, Schlatt’s a lot smarter than he seems and- if he doesnt have memory issues due to being a ghost- would know that Quackity’s opinion of him was in the dump at the time of his death and most likely wouldn't have improved since then. Fundy has a higher opinion of Schlatt than Quackity does and is someone who obviously craves validation. but Schlatt went to Quackity first anyway and trusted him to help revive him
i think that this is all good evidence that points towards Schlatt truly caring about Quackity as much as someone like Schlatt can care about anyone- or at least valuing him as a companion
i also think that it is pretty common knowledge that Quackity cared about Schlatt- and possibly still does- but i will go over a bit of evidence that i haven’t already mentioned before we move on to the next part
Quackity tried multiple times to impress Schlatt (like when he lied about knowing how to play chess), would attempt to help Schlatt when he was drowning in water, sadly said that they could have had something together while Schlatt was dying in the caravan, and implied that he wouldn’t have left if Schlatt hadn’t taken down the white house. Quackity also willingly went to the Big Man Gym after being summoned there by Schlatt and wanted to revive him long before the revive book became part of the story
part 2: what made it fall apart?
everything i've said so far has been pretty interesting (hopefully) but it doesn't really answer the original question: what went wrong to turn Schlatt and Quackity’s mainly positive partnership sour?
well it comes down to two things in my opinion: their incompatible desires for political power and Schlatt’s deteriorating mental state
Quackity wanted political power from the beginning and wasn't afraid to be open about his desires. he pooled his votes with Schlatt because Schlatt offered him the position of vice president, something Wilbur and Tommy weren’t willing to give to him. tho Quackity obviously cared about L’Manburg and wanted to see good things for it, he also desired power and was willing to team up with someone he didn't fully agree with to get said power
at 32:40 in this video, Quackity talks about how in politics everyone uses everyone so it's alright if Schlatt is using him. he then talks about how he doesn't want to be a man with no power and how he understands that Schlatt’s main goal is also gaining/keeping power. Quackity also shows a bit of his naughty evil side by saying if he overthrows Schlatt then the fun ends too early!
(side note: these two are pretty evenly matched in intelligence and manipulativeness, i love it!)
it's a bit of a fandom misconception that Quackity was a love sick yes man during the Manburg era. tho Quackity did want to please Schlatt and was in love with him, he didn't shy away from standing up to or disagreeing with Schlatt when he believed it was needed
at around 26:12 of this video, Quackity and Schlatt meet together in private and Quackity tells Schlatt off for playing down his role in the power structure of Manburg. since this was very early in Schlatt’s reign, Quackity shows no fear towards him and confidently tells him not to treat him like that
Quackity also broke Niki out of jail after regretting letting her be put there in the first place, tried to convince Schlatt to not execute Tubbo, jumped in front of Fundy when Schlatt tried to attack him, tried to stop Schlatt from tearing down buildings, and attempted to protect the white house he built from being destroyed by Schlatt. these are not behaviors of a pure yes man but of someone who, despite fear, has the confidence to speak up for himself even when disrespected by someone in authority
Quackity has always been someone who wanted power and someone who was never a yes man to authority. this contradicts with how Schlatt believed Quackity should act as vice president. in Schlatt’s opinion, Quackity’s one job is to sit around looking pretty while Schlatt does all of the important things and holds all of the power. Schlatt was a big fan of promoting people to worthless positions of authority and its pretty obvious that he considered vice president to be similar to the fake positions he gave Fundy and Tubbo
in the end, this was a big part of what destroyed their relationship. like it or not, Quackity’s a power hungry guy and always has been. he didn't like that Schlatt constantly shoved him aside and refused to listen to him
now onto the nasty bit...Schlatt’s mental state
cw for mentions of alcoholism, mental deterioration, and abusive behavior
before i say anything more, i just want to say that i don't think having issues with alcoholism makes someone a bad person. i personally have some issues with such things so it would be pretty stupid of me to say being an alcoholic makes you a bad person. alcoholism does negatively affect your cognitive functions tho and, combined with other health issues, can cause some of the very serious mental problems that Schlatt clearly struggles with
throughout the Manburg era, Schlatt’s mental state rapidly deteriorated. he went from a pretty normal- if eccentric- guy who had a drinking problem, to someone who was delirious most of the time. it's a sharp and noticeable decline that caused a lot of pain for Quackity due to Schlatt often taking his excess aggression out on him by yelling at him and/or belittling him. tho Schlatt often belittled Quackity before he went fully off of the deep end, it was never as aggressive as it was when he was in this delirious state of mind
it was during one of Schlatt’s most aggressive and delirious moments that he tore down the white house despite Quackity’s protests. as we all know, this caused Quackity to snap and kill Schlatt (it's more complicated than that but we will get back to that). as mentioned previously, Quackity implied that he would have stayed with Schlatt if the white house hadn’t been destroyed
in my opinion, these two things combined are the biggest reasons why Quackity and Schlatt’s relationship fell apart. their differing desires for power were not compatible and Schlatt’s awful behavior while his mental state declined caused a rift between them that couldn't be fixed
part 3: how toxic was it really?
cw for emotional and physical abuse
as i said all the way back in part one, Quackity and Schlatt’s relationship was not healthy. i have provided many examples in the other two parts that shine a light onto why it wasn't healthy, but i didn't show the entire picture
there are many moments that show exactly how Schlatt treated Quackity when he was acting at his worst and none of them are pretty. tho Schlatt was never truly aggressive with his insults until he started to go off of the deep end, that doesn't mean that what he said wasn't negatively affecting Quackity
Schlatt would belittle, insult, and mock Quackity for his appearance not being up to his standards, for his opinions, and for being emotional in ways that Schlatt disapproved of like crying. tho Schlatt would often brush off Quackity’s reactions towards this cruel behavior, it's very clear that Schlatt’s treatment of him has stuck with Quackity in many ways
Quackity is very sensitive about his appearance and it seems to be because of how badly Schlatt hurt his self esteem during their time together. Schlatt tied Quackity’s worth to his appearance and then would claim he wasn't meeting his standards of attractiveness. we can tell that this has stuck with Quackity because of his sensitivity towards people bringing up the scar on his face (something that greatly alters his physical appearance) and he still reacts very badly when Schlatt calls him the mocking nickname flatty patty
speaking of flatty patty- that stupid insult shockingly has a lot of weight in Quackity’s relationship with Schlatt. tho its something the audience is meant to laugh at, the nickname also shows just how little Schlatt respects Quackity because he's constantly throwing it around just to make Quackity upset. Schlatt’s last words are flatty patty all because he wanted to get in one last dig at his ex and ruin Quackity’s day even further
Schlatt tends to do a lot of things that are intended to make Quackity upset. tearing down the room Quackity made for him in the white house is the biggest example of this- especially since Schlatt mentions how it will upset Quackity while he does it. you can see this moment at around 19:10 of this video
and now let's get into the elephant in the room when it comes to these two: Quackity was scared of Schlatt. tho we never really see Schlatt hit or attack Quackity physically outside of their confrontation at the white house or their confrontation in the caravan, these clips imply that Quackity was at the very least scared of Schlatt physically harming him in some way
as for actually physically harming him, Schlatt hits Quackity multiple times with a pickaxe and with his fists during their white house fight. Quackity hits Schlatt a couple times too, tho these are all primarily defensive blows since he is trying to protect himself and his property. he also chases after Quackity with a bow after Quackity’s plan to trick him into signing Manburg over to the Pogtopians fails and hits him multiple times during the caravan confrontation
all of this evidence shows that Schlatt was an abusive (or at least toxic) partner towards Quackity and someone who greatly affected him in many ways
tho Quackity did a few questionable things throughout his relationship with Schlatt (such as trying to get Schlatt to have sex with him despite Schlatt not being interested as shown in the later half of this video) and did some downright morally wrong things during his time as vice president of Manburg, no one deserves the pain of an abusive relationship- even a person who has done bad things
as a brief side note before we move on because i know people will bring it up if i skip over it, Quackity did- and most likely still does- want to literally possess Glatt. he brought up reviving Schlatt and using him as a political pawn after Schlatt’s funeral and during their conversation at the Big Man Gym Quackity talked about owning Glatt and having him work at Las Nevadas with no pay
this is unsettling behavior to say the least but this essay isnt about the aftermath of their relationship so much as it is about their relationship when it was actually happening. maybe i will make another post talking more about how Quackity’s relationship with Schlatt affected him even after Schlatt’s death and/or about Quackity’s relationship with Glatt
part 4: final thoughts
i’m not exactly sure why the nuances in Schlatt and Quackity’s relationship get lost when it comes to the fandom, but it’s pretty disappointing to see. hopefully this essay can help people take a closer look at canon and maybe even help them find something interesting that they’d want to explore!
tho the point of this essay is to clear up any misconceptions and hopefully add some nuance to the conversations surrounding Schlatt and Quackity’s relationship, i also wrote it in hopes of showing people how fascinating these two partners in crime were back in the Manburg days. i didn’t cover everything but i think i did a pretty good job for my first analysis post in the dsmp fandom
also since you read to the end, i must say thank you! it really does means a lot to me that you did. i hope you enjoyed and maybe even learned something. this post can be used as a resource if anyone wants to use it as such
here’s a tiny devil Quackity for your troubles <3
#quackity#jschlatt#manburg#dream smp analysis#dsmp analysis#posts by me#this was really fun to make!! i worry it wont show up in tags tho bc of how many links there are in it#so pls reblog!! if you read it and liked it that is haha#meta by me
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Words: 6,188 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, pre-Negan + flashbacks in other eras Warnings: language, fear and anxiety, mention of fear of heights Summary: Y/N and Daryl head out on the run for the requested medical supplies. Things are tense, but possibly about to get worse... This part is written in Daryl's POV!
Your name: submit What is this?
* * *
“I ain’t waitin’. I got a whiff of him and I gotta go before it disappears.”
“Daryl, are you sure about this?” Carol pressed him, creases from worry between her eyebrows. “Are you sure you’ve really thought this through?”
“What is there to think through? If he finds her again, he’ll kill her. And I ain’t waitin’ around for that to happen.” The archer was a blur of activity, gathering his gear and shoving it into his pack.
“I think you need to talk to her about this,” Carol insisted, relinquishing her hold on his poncho somewhat unwillingly as Daryl pulled it from her hands.
He shook his head. “Nah. Ya know she’ll want to be there and I can’t risk that…” he trailed off. “I can’t risk—can’t risk that.”
A thick silence stretched for a moment and Carol wrung her hands. “Well, what are you going to tell her?”
He paused, his hands on the clasp of his pack. “I ain’t tellin’ her anythin’. I’ll leave before its light tomorrow. By the time everyone is up, I’ll be gone.”
“What am I supposed to tell her then? When she inevitably asks?” Carol pressed him. “You want me to lie to her too?”
“I ain’t lyin’,” Daryl snapped. “‘M just not—not tellin’ her everythin’. ‘M ending this so she can move on.”
Carol’s jaw tensed. “It feels like a lie.”
“Just tell her I went north. To see what I could see. Lookin’ for supplies,” he drawled, setting his pack and crossbow on the ground beside his bed. “I don’t know.”
Carol sighed heavily and shook her head as he straightened up. “I don’t think this is—”
“Look, tell her whatever ya want. Just wait until ‘m gone. This is happenin’. It’ll be done. S’gonna be over with. For good.”
She shook her head and gave him a long look before crossing his cell and gently clasping his shoulder. “Be careful. I mean it,” she said, surrendering to the fact that there would be no changing his mind. He nodded, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth for a moment.
“I will.”
Carol gave him one last look full of anxiety and left him.
* * *
I hardly slept. Maybe caught 20 minutes here and 15 minutes there. Anxiety about the run—that’s all it was. At least, that’s what I kept tellin’ myself. Wanderin’ into a hospital was about the dumbest shit we could do. They always promised to be loaded with unexpected bullshit and floods of undead assholes. But lyin’ flat on my back in the dark, I knew deep down it had a helluva lot more to do with her than it had to do with the run. I was tryin’ to remember the last time I’d spent more than ten minutes alone with her and it left me with a feelin’ like somebody had dropped a damn lead weight onto my chest. I turned over in bed in an attempt to throw it off, but it still sat there on my lungs. I knew exactly when we’d last been alone for longer than a few minutes. Of course I fuckin’ knew. It was burned into my goddamn memory.
But it wasn’t doin’ me a lick of good to think on it so I pushed it away and waited for the clock beside me to read 5:15 before I climbed out of bed. My gear was all waitin’ ready, except for pickin’ up a gun on the way out. I half-expected to run into her in the armory, but it was dark and empty when I grabbed a handgun and some ammo. It felt like a lonely walk to Aaron’s, up the empty street, dew heavy on the grass, and my bootsteps echoing loudly off the dark rows’a houses. I never feel right in here… with the square little lawns and lights on by the front doors. It just felt fake, like somebody had built paper houses and was plannin’ to light ‘em up to burn any minute. I couldn’t feel settled. I just felt… lost. Outta place. Like I didn’t belong.
I’d gotten rid of that feelin’ once… My mind drifted back to her like it always did. It was like I didn’t have no damn control over my own mind. She’d been the one who’d made me feel like I belonged. But now? Fuck. I’m doin’ it again. Focus, dumbass.
She wasn’t waitin’ by my bike either, so I rode up to the gate. As the lookout platform came into view, I caught sight of her climbing down, followed by Gabriel. Her pack was slung on her back, a shotgun hanging at her side and her favorite pistol in a holster on her thigh. I found myself chewing the inside of my cheek. Nerves. Anxiety. This was gonna be a long fuckin’ day.
“I’ve got the gate,” Gabriel said, heading for the latch. She wandered over and I felt a jolt when she met my eyes. I nudged my nose up in a nod, but she just looked back at me with that same stony expression. Unreadable. It always seemed like I never saw her smile anymore. Maybe she did, just not around me. I got that blank look or a glare that I probably deserved…
“Were ya on watch?” I asked, curious why she wouldn’ta gotten rid of her shift in favor of sleep, knowing we’d be heading out on a run early.
“No,” she said simply. No extra info. Typical. Why waste more on me when one word would do? She didn’t owe me nothin’. And she knew it. I swallowed my other questions and leaned forward on my bike so she could climb on. I felt her settle in behind me and glanced over my shoulder at her. She caught my eyes for a brief moment before looking away, down toward the ground. That was typical too. It was like she just couldn’t look at me. Felt like somebody twisted a blade in my chest every time she dodged me like that. And yet I couldn’t get enough of her, even if she was purposely a giant pain in the ass most of the damn time… I still felt like she was a mirage in a desert. A mouthful of cool water in a drought. Food for a starvin’ man.
Gabriel was waiting with the gate open, so I revved the bike to life again. Her arms wrapped around my waist to hold on and for a second I thought I felt her cheek press against the back of my shoulder, but I knew I must have imagined it. My heart was racing as we pulled out. I was more anxious than I had been all night. The thoughts rushing through my head moved so fast I couldn’t even focus on any of them.
Gabriel yelled at us to be safe as we moved through, kickin’ dust up that left a glowing red cloud behind from the reflection of the taillights. The ride to the city was smooth. We made good time, luckily only passing lone walkers or small herds that were easy to avoid. Around the curves, for a brief moment, she’d hold tighter to me and lean into the turns like I’d taught her in what felt like another fuckin’ lifetime. Each corner I could feel every individual fingertip pressing into my waist or stomach. It was always followed by a sudden wash of heat like somebody had shoved me in a shower with the temperature all the way up. I couldn’t control it. Didn’t matter how hard I tried to ignore the feelin’ of being so damn close against each other…
I slowed down as we neared the hospital. Cars sat rusting in gridlocked traffic, tires long gone, frozen in time—same place they were when everythin’ shut the fuck down. I slowed my bike to roll over some debris and hit a chunk of concrete a little harder than I meant to. Her arms tightened around me reflexively at the jolt before loosening again the next second. My heart jolted at the same time. That feeling… of her clinging onto me for safety—but fuck. Let’s not make it out to be more than it is, dumbass. I turned toward my left shoulder. “Sorry,” I murmured. She didn’t say anything back, just shifted in her place behind me, puttin’ an inch more space back between us. The hospital came into view ahead, tall over everything else on the block.
She tapped my arm and I turned so I could hear her over the engine. “We should park. Sound of the bike,” she said. I knew what she was thinkin’. Any walkers or people anywhere around would hear us. I turned down a side street and parked in a loading dock bay. She climbed off about as damn fast as she could. Kicking the kickstand out and swinging my leg over, she was already walking back toward the corner of the building to look down the street.
“Hold up,” I called after her. I still had to get my gear off the back. She either didn’t hear me or didn’t give a shit and I found myself gritting my teeth. But when I rushed around the corner, I nearly collided with her. She did wait. She was leaned up against the brick, her shotgun in her hands, staring ahead at the looming building.
She straightened up as I stopped beside her and we started windin’ our way down the last couple blocks, keepin’ to the shadows of the buildings, stayin’ in cover as best we could. Even so, I couldn’t help glancin’ up at the endless windows, too many high points. All it would take is one asshole with a rifle and a scope... My hands started to sweat as I gripped my crossbow. I glanced at her, but she was as stony-faced as ever. “C’mon,” I said, quickening my stride. “I wanna get the hell off this street.”
I heard her let out a small scoff behind me. “Yeah, you’re the only one worried about being out here,” she murmured. My teeth clenched again but I did my best to ignore it. There was no point gettin’ riled up this early in the day. We still had a lot of fuckin’ work to do. We reached a set of double doors on the side of the hospital, but one glance inside showed they were well barricaded. I stood there rubbing a hand over the stubble on my face. “S’try the south door,” I drawled. To my surprise, she didn’t argue. But that side was a fuckin’ bust too. “Shit,” I spat out. There was a tall cabinet blocking the entrance.
“Good call,” she said sarcastically.
I shot her a glare. And this time when I bit my cheek, I tasted blood. “Ya got a better fuckin’ idea? Huh?” I challenged her.
She rolled her eyes, studying the door for a moment. There was a large glass pane above it that was broken out and I saw her eyes lock in on it. “Boost me up there,” she said, inclining her chin to indicate the window.
Did she want to go in alone? Well, that sure as shit wasn’t fuckin’ happenin’. “Like hell,” I growled back. She rolled her eyes again.
“Just boost me through and I’ll get the door open. I’ll let you in.”
Now it was my turn to scoff. “Ya gonna move that cabinet? By yerself?” I asked skeptically. The muscle in her jaw tensed.
“I don’t have to move it far. Just enough to let you squeeze in. And you can help from the outside.”
I pulled my bottom lip in between my teeth. I didn’t like the idea. I paced a tight circle, thinkin’, as she shifted impatiently beside me. “What if ya get in there and there are walkers? Huh? We can’t see shit down the hall.”
“I’ll be quiet. Come on. We haven’t got all fucking day and we’re sitting ducks out here. Unless you’ve come up with something better—”
I didn’t like it, but she was right. Shit. “Fine,” I interrupted. She leaned her shotgun up against the wall as I set my back against the door, fingers locked together and hands low at my bent knee. “C’mon. Gimme yer foot.”
She seemed to hesitate and I wondered if she was having second thoughts, but the next moment she stepped close in front of me and her hands came to my shoulders. “Ready?” I asked. Her face was maybe six inches from mine, her hands light. I started to feel warm again, a flush of heat across the back of my neck that started spillin’ into my chest. I could see every fleck of color in her eyes, the upturned curve of her eyelashes, that little scar on her chin... Fuck. Focus.
“Ready.” She planted her boot in my hands and I boosted her up so she could grab the window edge. The tinkling of glass dropping in was all I could hear for a moment, and then her weight disappeared from my hands. Spinning around, I watched her pull herself through onto the top of the cabinet. She stayed perched there for a moment, glancin’ behind her, scoutin’ the hallway, before she dropped to her feet lightly. She made it look easy. Graceful.
I couldn’t stand still, constantly shifting my weight. I watched her face tighten as she wedged her shoulder into the cabinet, using all her weight, and it started to move at an angle away from the door. I pushed in with my shoulder from the outside and we finally had enough space for me to slip through. I passed her shotgun through first before turnin’ sideways and slidin’ in. It was dark and completely silent except for the sound of our own breathin’. It felt stuffy inside, and I could vaguely smell somethin’ sharp like animal piss and a sickeningly sweet smell. Death. Decay. I paused to draw the string on my crossbow back, cocking it ready to fire, a bolt nestled in the flight groove.
She pulled her flashlight out from the side pocket of her pack and clicked it on, shining it partially up the hallway ahead. “Jesus…” Her boots crunched over broken glass. She adjusted the shoulder strap of her shotgun, her eyes fixed down the hall, following the moving beam of her light. “This place is a fucking wreck,” she whispered. In her distraction, her tone lacked the usual hostility or sarcasm.
“Somethin’ went down since we were last here,” I agreed. There was a lot more debris and furniture toppled over and strewn about. A lot of obstacles to a clean getaway if we had to make one. “Let’s just get this done and get the hell out.”
“What a unique idea…” she remarked over her shoulder. There it was. Damn sarcasm was back.
I couldn’t help rolling my eyes and movin’ past her so I was in the lead. I knew it would annoy her, but I secretly wanted to be the one in the line of fire if somethin’ was crooked. I headed for the stairwell, pullin’ my own flashlight out and shinin’ it inside before I tried the door. It looked clear. “Upper floors are more likely to have shit left. Let’s go.”
We moved in silence. I could feel her ghosting behind me the whole way, almost mimicking my movements. This was the first time the two of us had been alone on a run since… since I dun even know when. But despite it being so goddamn long, we weren’t out of step. Once we started movin’ it was like no damn time had passed. We fell right back into our old rhythm. I knew her and she knew me. We worked well together when she put aside her need to argue with everythin’ I said. It still felt like we each knew what the other was thinkin’. Not that I expected this run would magically make working together bearable again for good, or solve anything, but at least we could if we had to. I also now was realizin’ this whole thing was probably orchestrated by Rick. Did Denise really need the supplies? Sure. But did it have to be Y/N and I gettin’ ‘em? Alone? Fuck no. I dunno exactly what he was hopin’ for but I’m pretty sure he’ll be disappointed…
Moving steadily upwards, we had most of the supplies on the list, plus plenty of extra finds, but I was growing more and more uneasy as we went on. We hadn’t run into a single fucking walker yet, and to me that meant they were probably herded up in a massive hoard somewhere. It felt like a matter of time before we found them or they found us. I could sense Y/N’s tension risin’ again too. She was more fidgety, more careful about each step she took. I found myself frequently sweeping my eyes back behind us to make sure nothin’ was lurking just outta the flashlight beams. There were the usual signs of walkers nearby; smears of blood on the floor and walls, that fuckin’ smell ya could never get outta yer nose, even chunks of flesh from the rottin’ fuckers. But we still hadn’t seen one, and I was fuckin’ worried.
“Almost got everything,” Y/N whispered to me, shoving a couple more bottles into her pack. “We just need to find the CPAP machine,” she murmured, staring down at the list. “I don’t have a fucking clue what the hell that looks like.” She glanced over at me, one of her eyebrows quirked in a question and I realized she was waitin’ for some kinda response.
“What? Yer lookin’ at me? I ain’t got a goddamn clue what the hell that even is,” I said gruffly. Shit. I saw it. Just for a second, but one corner of her lips twitched up in a smile and I swear there was a spark in her eyes—like the ones I used to see in her all the time. My heart jumped and I tried my best to ignore it. She seemed to turn away, hidin’ her face right as I was puzzlin’ over it.
“Right… well, let’s try down the hall. There’s probably another supply closet at the other end,” she said, nudging her head toward the darkness ahead.
We made our way cautiously. I pushed into the lead again and was surprised when she didn’t argue. I tried every door handle but most of ‘em just led to empty or trashed patient rooms. I caught her frozen in the doorway of one that had a massive bloodstain on the floor and spatter partially up the walls. Her eyes were wide and vacant, and I wondered what she was reliving. “Hey,” I said, just over her shoulder. She seemed to pull out of it abruptly and she turned away, moving on like nothin’ had happened. I let her go ahead, mainly so I could keep an eye on her for a minute and make sure she still had her head in the game, but I didn’t need to worry. Not about that anyway. She’d always been tough. She wasn’t shaken by shit easily. I knew that. And yet I still had this drive to want to protect her, even though she didn’t need it from me. And she definitely didn’t want it from me.
“Here,” she said suddenly, slinging her gun back on her shoulder and more fully opening the door to a small supply closet. There was hardly enough room for her to stand inside, so I posted up just behind her and strained my eyes and ears for anythin’. “It’s all electronic stuff,” she whispered, entirely focused at the task at hand. Her hands floated from one device to the next, illuminated by her flashlight. She was looking for some label or model number or somethin’ to tell her what they were. She bent down and grabbed some scattered papers from among the boxes on the floor. Swearing under her breath she held one up to the flashlight. “Of course the cover and all the useful shit in the front is torn off,” she muttered. She was bending down to grab another handful when there was some sudden, deep noise on the floor above us.
My heart seemed to stall out for a moment and she straightened up and froze, her eyes lifted toward the ceiling, lips partially parted. The sound seemed to reverberate through the building. I could feel it beneath my feet. It resonated through the walls. After a moment, I was looking at her and she glanced over and met my eyes, her eyebrows a little furrowed with worry.
“What the fuck was that?” she asked in a harsh whisper. I only shook my head. She gulped and refocused, shakin’ it off, focusing back on the papers. She was flipping page after page, scanning them as fast as she could.
I started to hear some more noises above us and then eventually spilling toward the other end of the hall. My grip on my crossbow tightened. “We need to move,” I said, keeping my voice low.
She was still intensely focused on the manual in her hands. “Just gimme a minute…” she said vaguely.
I shifted, turning more toward the far end of the hallway, straining my hearing. There was more clattering above us. “We might not have another damn minute.”
“Just—hold on—”
Fuck. I stood frozen for a moment as a herd of walkers started to spill out from the stairwell at the other end of the hallway and start toward us. “We ain’t got a minute, Y/N!” I urged in a harsh whisper. She didn’t seem to hear me.
There were more walkers than I could count. They hadn’t spotted us yet but I had to move fast, so I did the only damn thing I could think of and pushed her forward into the closet, pressing in after her and shutting the door as quietly as I could. I instinctively clicked my flashlight off and hurried to grab hers and do the same, plunging the two of us into darkness in that small space.
“Daryl, what the hell?!” she snapped at me. She’d been so focused she was completely oblivious to the mass of dead wandering our way. The goddamn closet was so small I had no choice but to be pressed into her… My heart started to pound and I think it had more to do with her against me than the undead assholes outside. I was sure she’d be able to feel it and prayed she’d just think it was adrenaline or somethin’. “What the fuck are you doing?!”
I shoved my hand over her mouth, all my patience gone. Did she really think I’d shoved her in a closet for the hell of it? “For once in yer goddamn life just shut up!” I growled in a low voice. She seemed to tense against me but in the quiet the sounds of the walkers outside the door were now easily heard above our ragged breathin’ and they were growing louder every second. I still had one hand over her mouth and the other clenching my crossbow at my side. She shifted against me and pulled my hand away. I could hear and feel her breathin’ pick up pace. I planted my palm on the wall behind her, next to her head, very aware of the growin’ heat pooling between the two of us where we were pressed together. The air felt suffocatin’. I started to worry the walkers outside the door would be able to hear my breathin’ I was so nervous. I wanted to shift, move away from her like I’m sure she wanted… I wanted to change positions and get my bow up, but it was impossible.
She didn’t seem to know where to put her arms within the tight, dark space. I couldn’t blame her. I was leaned in against her, sorta over her even. I felt her hand accidentally brush my arm and my body jolted a little at the contact, like some reflex I didn’t know I had. My teeth ground together. After that she seemed to settle away from me, into the wall behind her.
We had to just stay there, fuckin’ frozen, hardly room to breathe while the hoard passed by. Every once and a while, a body would thump hard against the door and I’d feel her flinch. I could feel sweat dripping down my neck and beading up on my face, my hair sticking to it. We were so close I could feel her breath against my skin when she faced toward me. I felt the rhythm of her breathin’. And I couldn’t ignore the fact that in that tiny ass closet, the only thing I could smell was the faint scent of her shampoo. I tried hard not to notice, but I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t try to put some name to the smell. Lavender? Not quite. Maybe more like rose? I dunno. And despite the possible death lurking just outside, I found it hard to focus on anythin' other than the feeling of her against me.
It felt like it took hours for the hoard to pass, but it was probably only ten minutes. But after the sounds drifted away we were still left with a big fuckin’ problem. They had to go somewhere, and my best guess was that they were travelin’ down.
It was so dark in there I couldn’t even tell if my fuckin’ eyes were open or closed, and it seemed to be makin’ it hard to think… Or maybe the angle of her one hip pressed into me was—fuck. Get it together, man… I fumbled for and clicked on my flashlight, findin' the two of us both wincin' at the sudden glare, noses almost touchin'. She was lookin’ up at me, her lips softly parted, her expression only full of concern for once, that little worry line she always gets near her eyebrow.
We both stayed like for a second. I guess just struck by actually seein’ how close we were in the sudden light, until finally she tore her eyes away and turned her head.
I tried to clear my throat, worried my voice was gonna come out soundin' strained or somethin’. “Uhh… sounded like they were goin’—”
“—down. Yeah,” she finished.
My eyes traced the angle of her jawline as she kept her face turned away from me. I heard the paper manual crinkle in her hand and groped for the doorknob behind me. “Yeah,” I agreed quietly. “So, we got a problem about gettin’ out.” My hand finally landed on the doorknob and I turned it and slowly opened the door on the hall, checking both directions carefully but also feelin’ like if I didn’t put some damn space between the two of us again I was about to explode. It looked clear and I stepped out. Glancin’ back, she still seemed frozen, up against the wall, her face turned away toward her shoulder so I couldn’t really get a read on her. “Hey. What is it?” I prompted her.
“Hmm?” She seemed to snap back to herself. “N—nothing…” She went back to searching the manual in her hand, like nothin’ had fuckin’ happened. Just one goddamn time I’d like to know what the fuck is goin’ on inside her head… But I ain’t got no right to that. She’s made that pretty fuckin’ clear.
It wasn’t the right manual or the right machine. But she went through two more until she found it. “Got it,” she announced, waving the paper at me before shoving it into her already full duffel bag. She seized a small machine from the shelf and started trying to rearrange items to make it fit in her pack.
“I got room,” I said, still nervously checkin’ over my shoulder. I thought I could hear the hoard moving below us, maybe two floors down.
“It’s fine. I can make it fit,” she said, jostling more stuff in her bag.
I rolled my eyes and grabbed the damn thing from her, slinging my crossbow strap over my shoulder. “Ya’d really rather split yer pack at the seams than take any fuckin’ help from me,” I murmured. I didn’t wait for an answer. I didn’t need one…
She stepped out of the closet and I caught her wiping her forearm across her forehead. It left a smear of dirt near her hairline. I had to pull myself back to the present. “So, how are we getting out of here?” she asked, adjusting her pack and the duffel bag strap on her shoulder.
I glanced at her, knowing she wasn’t gonna like my idea.
She rolled her eyes. “Well, you’ve obviously got something. Just get on with it.”
“Fire escape,” I said.
I watched the muscle in her jaw twitch as he jaw clenched. “Fuckin’ great…”
“Unless ya got somethin’ else—”
“You know I don’t,” she snapped back at me. She wiped a hand across her forehead again, swiping away fresh drops of sweat. “It’s—” She cut herself off. “Let’s just go,” she sighed, defeated.
I looked at her for a second more, trying to gauge just how freaked out she was, but it didn’t seem to matter. We didn’t have any other options.
“Let’s go,” she snapped again. “Before I change my mind about being able to handle this.”
“It ain’t—”
She squeezed her eyes shut and I watched her body tense. “I swear to god, Dixon, if you say ‘It ain’t that bad’ or ‘It ain’t that high’ right now, I will lose my shit and attract every fucking walker in this goddamn building. I don’t even give a fuck.” Her jaw muscle twitched.
I couldn’t help letting out a sigh that was more of a growl than anything but then I turned and headed for the window a couple doors down that I’d noticed was busted out. Leaning through, I scanned the outside of the building for a fire escape. Nothing on that side.
“It’s probably around the other side. Let’s try the end of the hall,” she suggested. Her boots stayed rooted to the floor and I glanced at her again. She caught my eyes and must have read the concern on my face.
“I’m fine. You’re the last person I need worrying about me,” she growled.
Fuck. She could be infuriating… I found my hand clenching and unclenching a few times before I followed her back out of the room.
She was right. There was a fire escape down that side. I grabbed a piece of metal off the floor and straightened up. “Ya ready?” I asked one more time. “They might hear this glass break so we gotta fuckin’ move.” I thought her hands were a bit shaky.
“Just do it,” she said. And this time, I could hear the quiver in her voice.
I smashed the window and knocked out the glass before pullin' myself through. The metal grates rattled under my boots and she looked suddenly sick as she approached the window sill. I hesitated a second before reaching a hand out to help her through.
“I’m fine,” she said. She didn’t look fine, but she gripped the ledge and climbed out. “Oh, fuck. Fuck…” she muttered as her feet landed on the platform. She was keeping her eyes fixed straight out. Even just the metal grates at th prison used to freak her out, and that was one floor.
I wanted to comfort her but… I wasn’t dumb enough to think it’d help or that she wanted me to, so instead I just started down the stairs at a good pace. She followed stiffly behind me, gripping onto the railing with white knuckles and falling behind.
Every once and a while I’d glance back and she looked like she was about to be sick, but she was still following. We hit a snag as we reached the third-floor platform. A large part of it had rusted and fallen away, leaving a gaping hole we would have to edge around to reach the next set of stairs.
“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” I heard her behind me and when I looked back her eyes were wide and round and she was clutching onto the railing like it was a lifeline.
“S’fine. I’ll cross first. Just keep over—”
“Oh, really, Daryl? I should keep over to the side? You mean I should stay away from the huge fucking hole in the goddamn floor?” It kept drawing her eyes and I’d see her rip them back up and away, reeling.
I knew that was mostly coming from the fact that she was fuckin’ terrified, but every harsh word from her still stung. “Fine. Clearly, yer good,” I spat back. “Ya don’t need me and ya don’t give a shit and yer fine. I fuckin’ got it.” So much for trying to calm her down. I edged past the hole in the metal grating and went down the next set of stairs. Finally, I just had to push down the ladder, climb down, and we’d be on solid ground again. But when I looked back up, she was still frozen where she had been, on the far side of the platform. I watched her for another minute, waiting to see if she’d move. I knew she wasn’t gonna ask for help, not from me, but she obviously needed it and tough shit, I’m the only damn person here. I rubbed a hand across the back of my neck, anxious to even try again, and climbed back up. I edged past the rusted-out hole and stopped next to her. “Just gimme yer hand.” She didn’t loosen her grip on the railing, and her eyes landed on my face. “S’fine. Just for two seconds, lemme fuckin’ help ya.”
Her chest was heaving with fearful breaths and I guess the idea of tryin’ to cross along that edge alone was worse than puttin’ her hand in mine. Part of me still thought she’d take the heights over me, but she didn’t… She pried her hand off the railing and placed it into mine. I—I can’t say my heart didn’t jump when my fingers closed around it. The motorcycle. The fuckin’ closet. Now this. We’d hardly been within six feet of each other for years and now all this in one day… I felt dizzy. It ain’t like Rick could have predicted these things would happen. He sure as shit couldn’t command a hoard to force us into each other in a tiny closet… but he must have been hopin’ for somethin’ by sendin’ us out here. Was it gonna work on her? I fuckin’ doubt it.
As we stepped along the edge of the edge of the platform, she held her breath. She always seemed like nothing in this fucked up world scared her anymore, nothing phased her. Half the time it almost seemed like she didn’t give a shit if she died. But this? Heights? This still scared her on some level she couldn't reason away.
But we made it across just fine. She was gripping onto me so tightly I thought she might have bruised the bones in my damn hand. And as we climbed down the next set of stairs, long past the danger, she was still holding onto me. But just as quickly as I realized it, she slipped her hand out and stiffened next to me again, fixing her eyes away toward the railing, which she grabbed onto again desperately.
We made it down the ladder, dropping onto the concrete and making a run back to my bike, slippin' from cover to cover, packs heavy and weighing us down. I was thinking how batshit crazy it was that we’d just done a hospital run and hadn’t had to kill a single walker AND managed to get all the damn supplies... when we rounded the last corner and a string of curses left her mouth.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. What the fuck?!” She knelt down next to my bike and as I looked, my stomach dropped.
“Son of a fuckin' bitch.” Both tires on my motorcycle were slashed. Ruined. Fuck.
We were stranded in the city without a runnin’ vehicle and somebody knew we were here.
#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon twd#the walking dead#twd fanfics#daryl dixon drabbles#daryl imagines#daryl x y/n#fanfics#writers of tumblr#twd drabbles
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hey, i have a jj maybank request! fem!reader, possible angst!
so basically, y/n is a pogue and gets along with the other pogues (john b, pope, sarah, kiara & cleo) except for jj. y/n is always bright, a total sweetheart and bubbly and jj…hates it.
john b recently opens up a surf board shop on that stranded island that they’re on?? and he leaves y/n and jj alone to polish some boards hoping that they’d get along. jj complains about every little thing y/n does and starts calling her names. she gets really upset and storms out the shop to clear her head. she goes by the water for a swim but a dangerous tide picks her up and jj notices and saves her?? hopefully this makes sense!
the deep end ☆
jj maybank x fem!reader.
warnings: mentions of drowning, jj being an asshole, swearing.
words: 1,674.
summary: jj somehow finds everything you do annoying to the point he criticizes everything you do. john b thinks of a plan that will ensure his two friends will befriend each other. it was working at first, until it wasn’t.
request? yes!
a/n: y’all have such good ideas what the?! thank you for the request! if you enjoyed please like and comment. this is angst with fluff at the end. <3 BTW i am from missouri and have never surfed so i hope i got the polishing of the surfboards correct. :)
my masterlist
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john b always had a plan, well usually he did. if two of his friends were fighting, he would always find a way to get them to get along. he knew that stranding kiara and sarah on a boat together in the middle of nowhere would force them to fix their friendship. so, with that knowledge, he knew that he could do the same thing with jj and you.
you were always nice to jj, he just seemed to get annoyed with you all the time. you didn’t know what you had done, if you had even done something. he just always felt the need to critique you. it became harder and harder everyday to ignore him.
since washing up on the abandoned island, john b was ecstatic for his brand new start. unsurprisingly to anyone, his first idea for creating a new civilization would be a surf shack. he started building it right away. you would occasionally help, but he was determined to do it on his own so he would always send you away.
“okay! john b what would you like my help with? i can do anything you need. just let me know.” you smile brightly at john b, while he stared at you. “listen, i love you. but, i don’t need your help at the moment. you should talk to everyone else.” you frown at his words, “fine. but you better get me the minute you need assistance.” he nodded. “will do.” and with that, you left joining the others.
jj was talking to cleo before silencing upon your arrival. “hey everyone!” you smile at the group in front of you. “hey! how’s john b?” kiara asked. “i think he is good, he’s actually pretty much done.” you play with the bracelet on your wrist. kiara nods, “that’s great.” pope smiles, “statistically speaking, we can’t ensure that his shack will be entirely safe as he built it all on his own.” you stare at pope. “true… we’ll let’s hope it doesn’t collapse on him.” pope smiled at you, glad you listened to his random fact.
jj groaned. “awe, how sweet pope!! you found a girl who wasn’t disgusted by your weird and useless knowledge.” you gasp in shock, “jj! shut up you are so rude.” jj laughs, “it’s just a joke, why do you always have to be so offended?” you glare at jj. “jj it’s not funny, you’re just a dick.” pope sighs. “it’s okay, don’t worry.” you frown in popes direction. you quietly pull away from the group. you walk to an area of sand, plopping yourself down. that’s when john b approached you.
“hey, remember when i told you i would come get you when i needed help?” john b smiled at you. “yes! do you need my help?” you tilt your head to the side, waiting. he nods. “i need you to wax up some of the boards i made.” you nod. “okay! sure.” he walked you to his shack, helping you set up. you began waxing the board, paying attention to the direction and the amount of wax you were applying. john b waits a minute watching you, before he decides to leave.
after a minute, you see jj approaching the shack with john b who held a smug smile on his lips. you shake your head, confused. “friends.” he looked between you and jj. jj held an unamused look on his face. “as my close friends, you will wax these boards for me. you can’t stop until you guys fix whatever feud is going on between the two of you.” john b stands his ground. jj scoffs, “we don’t have a feud.” you nod your head in agreement. “jj is right, his hatred is definitely one sided... it is not a feud.” you laugh softly seeing jj send a glare your way. “yeah okay. whatever guys. just fix it, and if you even try and leave, i’ll send cleo after both of you.” your eyebrows lift in shock. you mutter a quick okay, returning your attention to the board.
jj stares at you, watching you apply the wax. he couldn’t help but get upset. everything you did just made him annoyed. he grabbed the wax, working on the board right by yours. silence falls over the two of you. it’s not awkward or weird, it actually feels quite normal. until jj interrupted it so he could judge you.
“youre doing it wrong. i mean come on.” you stare at jj, “jj please just focus on your own board.” you shake your head, continuing to polish the surfboard. he glares at you. “whatever. just keep doing what you are doing, and then john b or i will fix it after you.” his attention turned back to his board. you rolled your eyes. “i will, thank you.” he breathes in, inhaling the waxy scent. “you are so annoying you know that?” you ignore jj’s words, focusing on the board. he continues, “i mean everything you do. everything you say, it pisses me off.” you nod slightly. “you done?”
“no, actually i’m not.” you bite your lip, fixating on the wax that is spreading along the smooth surface. jj stops waxing the surfboard. you look up to see he is already staring at you. “you know, you act like you are better than us, i mean why do you hang out with us anyway?” jj waits but continues when he realizes you won’t reply. “you are fake, you are so upbeat and bubbly that it’s annoying. you are a double sided two faced bitch who says anything to get in good graces.” you inhale, looking up at him.
“listen jj. we are stranded on this fucking island. TOGETHER. so either drop it and move on, or just shut the fuck up and stay away from me.” you place your hands on your hips, breathing slightly staggered from anger. “everyone speaks so highly of you saying how great you are; but the only jj i’ve met is a total douche. if you hate me so much then just stay the fuck away from me. if you continue you’ll just be wasting your breath and energy anyway.” jj holds back a laugh at your sudden outburst.
“you really think if i had the choice, i would want to be here? especially with you?” jj asked, you already knowing the answer. you stay silent. “exactly. no one can deal with you for that long anyway.” you roll your eyes.
“whatever jj. you win.” you toss the wax to the side, frowning. you don’t turn back to him, you just ignore him. you start to walk towards the beaches seashore. it was getting slightly hot, so you decided to take a dip into the water.
you were salvaging the few moments of freedom you had, before you got john b’s and cleo’s wrath from leaving the scene before mending the friendship with jj. it was practically impossible. what did jj have against you? you tip toed into the water, getting deeper and deeper. you floated at the top of the water; the coolness feeling great on top of your hot skin.
jj truly had the biggest nerve, your mind was overwhelmingly clogged. you felt seaweed scratch against the bottom of your foot, this caused you to jump, your adrenaline levels rising since you thought it was a fish. you try to remain afloat, but the high tide caused the waves to crash right over you repeatedly, being faster and higher than ever. you went above water trying to shout for help, but your mouth was filled, causing no sound to come out. you thrash against the water, kicking to stay afloat. your throat was burning, your legs tired from kicking, and your lungs filled with liquid.
a pair of hands wrap around your stomach, dragging you out the water. you were placed on the warm sand. “shit.” jj stared at you. your head felt light. jj’s hand began pumping your chest, curses falling from his mouth. “come on, just breathe. please.” you cough, the salt water exiting your lungs, and dropping onto your neck. you gasp for air, opening your eyes to be met with jj’s face. you breathe heavily for a minute.
“jj… thank you.” you sit up, pulling him into a tight hug. your hands wrap around his neck, one of them grabbing his hair. his arms held tightly around your waist. his chest was heaving heavily, shaking slightly. “i hate to be so cliché j, but you genuinely saved my life.” he frowns at you. “i almost lost you.”
jj’s confession confused you. “what?” you say softly, your hand combed through his hair. “look. the reason i’m so mean to you, is because i knew that if i was nice to you, my already intense feelings for you would only amplify.” you frown at him. “you’ve had a crush on me this whole time?” jj nodded. you went to talk, but your friends interrupted the moment.
john b rushed to your side, kiara and pope swiftly behind him. “what happened!! we were watching from over there.” john b pointed in a direction farther away. “one minute you were swimming… the next you we’re gone!?” you wipe your neck, trying to dry it off. “jj saved my life. i almost drowned.” you frown, the group in front of you nodded. “im so glad you are okay.” kiara bent down pulling you into a hug. “i’m glad you are safe now too.” pope joined in on the hug; as well as everyone else.
sarah, kiara, and cleo bend down, reaching for your hands. they help you up, dragging you to your feet. they walk you away from the crowd, bombarding you with questions. “so when you were drowning what did it feel like??” you turn around watching jj, you smile slightly before turning to them. “oh get ready for the amount of details i’m going to give you guys.”
possibly a part two…??? not sure yet :) <3 also!! i’m proofreading this tomorrow since i’m not entirely sure if it has errors or not! ily!!
#jj maybank obx#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader angst#fiction#writing#jj maybank x fem!reader#jj maybank fanfic#jj maybank angst#jj maybank imagine#outerbanks fanfics#outer banks imagines#outer banks story#outer banks angst#jj maybank one shot#jj maybank outer banks#jj maybank obx fanfic#jj x fem!reader
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109 Steps To You
this is a part of the “almost” collaboration hosted by @hyucksie
Pairing: Haechan x Reader Genre: romance, fluff, angst, mature content, soulmate!AU, college!AU Length: 19k Summary: Everyone is born with two marks on their body: one that is identical to your soulmate’s, and one that is identical to the person who will cause you immense pain. No one knows which mark means what until they live out their life and meet the people destined to bring them love and hurt. However, you were only born with one mark. Out of all the places you thought you would meet the person with the mark identical to yours, you never thought it would be on your first day of college. Warnings/Details: female reader, mentions of other nct members (and yuqi from g-idle), explicit sex (unprotected + the consequences that come with it), mentions of a dysfunctional family, swearing
— read epilogue here
a/n: if you’re a minor: beware! there is explicit and mature content in this fic.
“I want to thank you guys, again, for helping me out today.” You shyly announce to the table, swirling your spoon through your froyo and glancing back and forth between the other people sitting before you.
“Oh, it’s no problem, we weren’t doing anything today anyway.” Xiaojun softly knocks his elbow into yours, sending a reassuring smile your way. If it wasn’t for Xiaojun, an old childhood friend, you weren’t sure how moving into your dorm room and getting settled into campus would’ve gone; you would probably still be a mess right now.
“He’s right. Plus, I really wanted to meet the girl Jun kept raving about, he wouldn’t stop talking about how much we would like you-” Mark’s comment is quickly cut off, a thud under the table and a pained look on Mark’s face giving away that Xiaojun just kicked him.
“I just hope I lived up to the hype.” You laugh at their antics.
“Oh, definitely,” Yuqi quickly buts in before Mark can retaliate back at Xiaojun, “And I live a few floors below you, so just let me know if you need anything at all.” She adds on, her warm deposition and all around friendliness from today making you let out a small sigh of relief, some stress falling off your shoulders when you realize just how many people around you are here to help you out.
“I appreciate it so much, really.” You lean away from Xiaojun and Mark, closer to Yuqi and Lucas who are sitting on the other side of the table, “By the way, I love your guys’ marks. They look so good on both of you.”
At your comment, Lucas puts down his phone and gently grabs Yuqi’s hand, their matching chamomile flower marks touching as their fingers intertwine. You almost didn’t notice their matching marks earlier today when they were helping you set up your dorm room, but when you did, you couldn’t help but stop what you were doing and stare at their hands. Such a simple mark has never looked so pretty to you, maybe it’s because Lucas and Yuqi made such a good pair that their fated marks looked so right for them.
“I still wish I got a cool dragon mark down my back, but I’ll let Jun be the one to deal with that in this life.” Lucas smirks at Xiaojun, who just rolls his eyes at Lucas’ fake jealousy. “Yours looks good, too.” He finishes and glances down at your left hand. There, a dragonfly mark stains your skin, the long tail trailing over your thumb and the wings spreading out over the back of your hand and your wrist.
“Thank you.” Your reply is genuine, however you can’t help but remember the solemn fact that surrounds your mark, your voice inadvertently dipping down as your eyes trace over the wings of your dragonfly.
“So, what kind of classes are you taking this semester?” Xiaojun changes the subject, no doubt hearing the lament in your voice.
“Oh, just some required classes. Nothing for my major, really, except Intro to Ethics for my humanities credit.” You reply as casually as you can to bring the mood at the table back up, but your comment makes Yuqi gasp and all four pairs of eyes at the table turn to you. You slouch in your seat at their sudden attention on you.
“Why would you do that to yourself?”
“What is wrong with you?”
“Do you know your advisor's email? Let’s send them a message right now to get you out-”
“Stop.” You shake your head, laughing a bit at the overreaction from your new friends, “What’s wrong with Ethics?”
“It’s in the Hauss building.” Xiaojun says as if you should already know what that means. You roll your lips in and shake your head; you do not know what that means at all.
“It’s the building all the way on top of the big hill on the west side of campus, by the auditorium.” Xiaojun explains more.
“They only teach three classes over there: Ethics and Music Theory 3 and 4.” Mark sets down his melted froyo, not realizing he has some sticking to his upper lip.
“I’m failing to see what’s so horrible about that?”
“When Xiaojun says it’s a big hill, he means it’s a really big hill-”
“Didn’t someone count the steps once and it came out to be, like, close to 100?” Lucas asks, one hand still tangled with Yuqi’s and the other now rapidly slurping his triple chocolate froyo.
“That was me, and it’s 109 steps.” Mark shutters, “I took Music Theory 3 last year and I ended up skipping half of the time because I couldn’t find the energy to climb up and down those steps three times a week.”
“Why 109? Aren’t groups of steps usually in even numbers? That’s not very architecturally smart.” Yuqi purses her lips and her eyebrows screw together.
“Screw architecture. Are you telling me I’ll have to climb up and down 109 stairs three times a week just to go to Ethics?” You can already feel a headache growing at the back of your head when you think about the complications of dealing with this big staircase. You needed that class for your major, and you thought it was going to be a class that you could pass with flying colors, but it seems like it might just be a nuisance to you more than an easy A.
“Talk to your advisor. Try to drop out and take a different class. Trust me, 109 steps don’t seem like much until you actually have to climb them.” Mark gives you his piece of advice, sticking his spoon filled with froyo into his mouth and then immediately scrunching his eyes and mumbling about brain freeze.
You’ll have to send an e-mail to your advisor real quick, but for your first day of classes tomorrow, you’ll just have to deal with those 109 steps.
The walk to your ethics class the next morning is very calming, the university’s nice landscaping and the warm weather calming your nerves down for your first day of classes. When you round the corner of the stonewall you had been following, you’re met with the infamous set of steps.
You have to crane your neck to look up at the top of the staircase, your jaw slightly dropping at how steep of a hill the stairs were built on. There are other students around you walking up and down the staircase, their headphones shoved in their ears and their heads down as they make the climb to and from class.
The stonewall you had been following all the way here continues up the staircase on your right and on the left is a thick wall of trees, their branches hanging over the stairs and giving protection from the sunlight to the students below. You begin to count every step on your way up; four regular steps, the fifth one a bit longer than the rest, and then repeat. It’s not that you don’t trust Mark’s words when he said there’s 109 steps, you just want to count for yourself.
You hear some rowdy boys coming down the stairs, but the noise is not enough to pull your head up from the ground or to stop you from counting, until you’re forcefully pushed into the stone wall on your right. Breathing in through your teeth sharply, your left hand clutches your collarbones where the pain is the worst.
“Oh, my god. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to push you.” The guy laughs through his words, a high-pitched and almost squeaky laugh, making him sound not as sincere as he probably meant to be. When you turn to face him, the first thing you notice are his eyes. Chocolate colored and almond shaped, some laugh lines showing from the remnants of his shenanigans with his friends.
Looking back, you realize you fell in love with his eyes first. How they don’t hold back from showing any emotion, and the mischievousness they hold no matter what.
Even when his smile falls, his face looks pretty; long hair hanging down over his forehead and ears, and plump lips spreading into an ‘o’ shape as he looks at your dragonfly. Every line and detail is just the same as his own, as if fate spent a little more time with you two to make sure you know you’re each other’s soulmate the moment you meet.
“Your mark…” The man points at your hand, and that’s when you realize who you’ve just met. His brilliant eyes fill with excitement and he starts to breath harder, taking a step back from sheer surprise that you’re here. His soulmate. His one and only for the rest of this life.
However it all fades away the moment you drop your hand from your collarbones, stepping past him to continue up the staircase.
“Next time, watch where you’re going.” The first words you ever say to him are filled with so much indifference that Haechan can only follow your back with his eyes, his jaw slack and his hand still reaching out for you.
“Hey, wait-” Haechan is about to run after you, but he’s held back by Renjun, his best friend and the one who pushed Haechan into you in the first place.
“Was that-” Renjun begins, holding onto his friend’s elbow as he also watches you walk up the rest of the 109 steps.
“Yeah… Why did she ignore me like that? She saw that I have the same mark. We’re soulmates!” Haechan almost cries out in confusion, his heart and mind in a mess. Can you blame him? He’s been waiting to meet his soulmate since he knew what the dragonfly on his hand meant. Haechan has never been a patient person, and even waiting several years for you to come to him was testing him. Now that you’re here, he isn’t going to let you go easily.
As Haechan begins to walk back up the staircase to follow you, not caring about his Literature class in 15 minutes, Renjun’s grip on him tightens and pulls him back.
“You can’t just go harass her about this.”
“I’m not going to harass her. I just want to talk.” Haechan tries to pull out of Renjun’s grip again, but the little man has the sturdiness of a boulder and pulls his friend back.
“Maybe she doesn’t want a soulmate?” Renjun and Haechan stop their tug of war at Jaemin’s words. He had been leaning against the handrail by the trees the whole time while watching the scene unfold in front of him, his arms crossed over his chest and his baseball cap covering his eyes. “It’s not that uncommon these days.”
Haechan and Renjun let go of each other at their friend’s words. Jaemin sends them a bitter smile and all three of them recall the incident that happened last year when Jaemin met his own soulmate:
A rejection.
Jaemin took it hard; if it hadn’t been for his best friends, he doesn’t know where he would be in life right now. Jaemin can’t help but let the memories surface as he continues to walk down the stairs, slower than before, his head bowed and his hands shoved into his pant pockets. Renjun sends Haechan a look that tells him to not push the situation further, following Jaemin down the stairs.
Haechan sends your retreating figure one last look, watching you reach the top of the staircase and walk into the Hauss building. He retreats and follows his friends dejectedly, the promise of you showing up on this staircase at the same time on Wednesday being the only thing that lets his legs follow his friends down the stairs.
“Hey, ___, come in.” Mark smiles brightly when he recognizes you at the door, stepping aside to let you into the dorm room. “Xiaojun is in the shower still… Will you be okay by yourself if I leave?” He looks unsure as you set your backpack down on Xiaojun’s desk chair.
“Oh, I’ll be fine. You do whatever you need to.” You state and then plop down onto your friend’s bed. You hear Mark laugh and say something about how all the first years look tired at the end of their first day and then leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. You lay sprawled out on the bed, the only sounds surrounding you is the water from the shower and the ticking of the analog clock on the wall.
Even though the whole ordeal happened several hours ago, you haven’t been able to get the moment you met your soulmate out of your mind. It was almost impossible for you to turn around and walk away. Even now, your feet still itch to go back to that staircase and find the sweet looking guy who you no doubt left confused.
However, you can’t do that— you won’t let yourself do that. And that’s partially why you’re in Xiaojun’s dorm room after your last class today: so that he can knock some sense into you.
The shower turns off and a few moments later, the bathroom door opens and Xiaojun steps out. He has a towel wrapped around his waist and a smaller one on his shoulders to catch the droplets from his hair; when he sees you laying on his bed, he jumps in fright.
“Good, God,” He sighs and clutches his bare chest with one hand, the other protectively going to the towel around his waist. “Can you say something the next time you come over? I almost had a heart attack because of you.” He walks over to his closet on the other side of the room, rummaging through some clothes as you sit up.
“Sorry, I thought you heard the door open…” You trail off, getting distracted by Xiaojun’s mark. The dragon on his back is huge, taking up most of the area and spreading to his shoulders and upper arms, too. However, that’s not the mark that caught your attention. Right on his ankle sits a three-leaf clover, so small and such a stark difference from the monster drawn on his back.
You’re pulled away from your thoughts when Xiaojun turns around and walks back into the bathroom, this time leaving the door open, “So, how was your first day?”
“Oh, well, it was okay…” You trail off, speaking a bit louder so that he could hear you from the other room. You stand up and start pacing in the space between Mark’s and Xiaojun’s beds, a nervous habit of yours.
“But? I know there’s a ‘but’ somewhere.” Xiaojun replies.
“Well, something happened…” You trail off, not sure how to make the words leave your mouth yet.
“What is it?” You swallow at the question, your throat dry and hands clammy. You must’ve been taking a long time to answer because Xiaojun walks out of the bathroom, now fully clothed, and stares at your pacing form. “What’s wrong, ___.”
“I met him.” You say simply, hoping Xiaojun gets what you mean, but he doesn’t. You sigh and sink down to the floor slowly, catching yourself on Xiaojun’s bed. The action makes his eyes widen in fear and he crosses the room in a few short strides, kneeling down next to you and searching your eyes for the answer.
“What? What is it?”
“The person with the same mark as me. I met him.”
“... Oh.”
Xiaojun slowly slides down onto his butt in front of you, folding his legs. He’s not sure what to say, or how to comfort you in anyway. He didn’t expect to be the only person around that you trust when something like this happens. He sees the lost look in your eyes and slides towards you to pull you into a hug.
Unlike Xiaojun, and most people in the world, you do not have two marks.
Xiaojun’s dragon and clover match with two different people in this world; one who will be his soulmate and the other who will bring him immense pain. Everyone has two marks— except you; it even states it on your birth certificate, your parents can testify that they’ve never seen a second mark on you, just the lonely dragonfly that spreads its wings over your left hand.
When you were younger, you were curious about what it meant to only have one mark. The people around you always had two marks, the people on the TV shows you liked to watch always had two marks, even anatomy books have depictions of humans with two marks. Why were you different? What did it mean?
After gathering up the guts to type the question into the Google search engine, you found your answers, and it changed your thoughts on your one and only mark forever. The people in the world who only had one mark testified to the same story online: the person who’s mark matched theirs were both their soulmate and the person who hurt them the most.
After learning about that, you promised yourself that if you ever met the person with the same mark as you, you would not meddle with them in any way if they were only destined to bring you pain in the end.
If you knew jumping off a bridge would definitely kill you, you wouldn’t jump, right?
Xiaojun is the only person, other than your parents, who knows about the situation. Which is why when he hugs you, you lean into him and accept his comfort.
“Tell me what you’re thinking about. You must have so many questions.” He mumbles into your hair.
“Not questions. I’m just curious about what I am to him.” You reply, whispering into Xiaojun’s shoulder.
“About what you are to him?”
“I know he’ll be the person I’m meant to love the most, and also the person who will hurt me the most. But am I the one that’s supposed to love him or the one that’s supposed to hurt him?”
“Lots of people say that they can feel it when they meet. Like Lucas, he said he instantly knew Yuqi was supposed to be his soulmate.” Xiaojun thinks back to all the people who have told him the exact same thing, even his parents.
“The guy… he kept calling me his soulmate. He sounded so sure about it, too.” You lean away from Xiaojun to look into his big and curious eyes.
“What about you? What did you feel?” He asks.
“It felt… like I left a part of myself with him.” Xiaojun’s eyes widened at that, “Is that crazy? I was only around him for a minute, maybe less, and I can’t stop thinking about how I never wanted to leave. It was so hard to walk away from him..” You trail off, feeling tears suddenly gather at the edges of your eyes.
“Xiaojun…” The edge in your voice makes him grab a hold on your hands, “I don’t want him to hurt me. I’m not ready for it.”
“Hey, hey…” Xiaojun squeezes your hands before gently guiding your face to his, meeting his eyes with your own, “He’ll hurt you eventually, yeah, but he’ll also be the person who is supposed to love you unconditionally. The person who is going to know you so well, better than yourself. Maybe you should see where he takes you in life? Destiny still wanted you to meet each other no matter what the end game is going to be… Are you really going to tell fate to fuck off?”
“Can’t I?” Your response makes Xiaojun laugh, which he apologises for laughing in a serious situation right after, but the mood is already broken and you laugh at yourself a bit as well.
“C’mon, let’s order something to eat and get your mind off of this, even if it’s just for a few hours.” Xiaojun pulls you off of the floor and reaches for his phone, trying to find the phone number to his favorite delivery place.
You sit on his bed once again, your hands limp in your lap and so much appreciation for Xiaojun in your chest. You probably would’ve gone insane if he wasn’t here for you. His suggestion on giving the guy you met today a chance plays like a record in your head, but the record scratches when you remember the promise you made to yourself a long time ago.
Don’t mess with him. He will only bring you pain in the end.
On Wednesday, Haechan is the first one out of his seat in his Music Theory 3 class, not even waiting for the slow Renjun and even slower Jaemin before sprinting out of the classroom and outside, waiting at the top of the staircase for your figure to appear at the bottom.
Students float up and down the stairs, but he doesn’t see you anywhere amongst them. Eventually, Renjun and Jaemin catch up to him, standing behind him and also staring down the long staircase.
“C’mon, Haechan, we need to go to our next class.” Renjun is the first one to step down, followed by Jaemin. Haechan takes a good look at everyone’s faces on his way down, getting some weird looks sent his way for staring, but he doesn’t care.
“Haechan.” Jaemin suddenly calls out, making his friend turn suddenly to look at him. Jaemin only nods his head to the bottom of the stairs where you just turned the corner. Despite his hurry from before, Haechan stops at the sight of you. His usual confidence is lost when he sees you climb the stairs. Now, he’s not sure if he should approach you.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Renjun nudges Haechan, but the younger only turns around to look at his friend.
“I don’t know what to say to her. What do I say to make her see I’m her soulmate?” Haechan asks, helplessness seeping into his words.
Renjun rolls his eyes; whenever his best friend needs to be the usual confident man he is, that’s when the confidence is most likely to drain out of him. Renjun shakes Haechan’s shoulders with a tight grip on his jacket, making some more people send the two of them some weird looks.
“She’s your soulmate, right? Fate already gave you everything you need to know about how to talk to her.” Renjun then pushes his friend towards your direction, “But for the love of god, don’t harass her.” Renjun ends with a pointed look and continues walking with Jaemin down the stairs.
Haechan slowly makes his way to you, crossing over to the middle of the staircase and stopping you in your tracks. You look up to inspect who it is that just stopped in front of you, and your surprise fades when you realize it’s the same guy from Monday.
“Hi.” He says simply. You only nod your head, lips pursed, and then move around him to continue walking to class.
“Wait…” Haechan calls after you, but you don’t stop this time. So Haechan keeps walking after you, only one step behind, “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but you’re my soulmate. I’ve been waiting for you for so long—” You sharply turn to face him, making Haechan cut off and tilt his head up to look at you.
“How do you know I’m your soulmate? What if I’m not?” You ask. Haechan shakes his head softly at that, his golden hair moving over his sun-kissed skin as he does.
“That’s not possible.”
“How do you know?” You ask. Haechan loves how curiosity burns in your eyes. He takes longer than normal to speak only so that he can look over your features and memorize them to the best of his ability. Last night, he tried to recall your face but the image came out so blurry since he only saw you for a moment on Monday. He wants to clearly remember what you look like.
“How about I take you somewhere, and then I’ll tell you?” The proposition stuns you, and your burning curiosity makes you want to say yes. However, going anywhere with him would be breaking your promise to yourself, so you decide to forget it.
“Nevermind…” You mumble, turning around to walk up the stairs again.
“You seem like you really want to know how I’m sure we’re soulmates… Aren’t you curious?” Haechan asks, making you stop in your tracks again. This man has only known you for a day, only talked to you for a few moments, yet he already knows how to get you to do something. “I promise I won’t hurt you, and I’m not lying either.”
You take a moment to think about the proposition. You’re really curious about how he’s so sure that you’re soulmates. Sure, you know you’re soulmates, but why is he so sure you aren’t the person who’s supposed to hurt him? You consider taking up the offer, but can you stay strong to your own promise while being close to him?
Curiosity wins, and you turn back around to face him, nodding and making him smile widely. There’s that crinkle in his eyes again, that sparkle against the sun that makes saying yes to him so much more worth it.
“My friends call me Haechan, but you can call me Donghyuck. That’s my real name.” He sticks out his hand for you to shake. You once heard that physical touch brings soulmates together quicker; you’re not sure if that’s true, but you don’t want to test it.
“I’m ___.” You nod at him and grip onto your backpack straps instead of accepting his handshake.
“Haechan, hurry up or we’ll be late!” You both hear Renjun shout out from the bottom of the stairs, “And on our second day, too.” You hear him groan.
“Okay, ___, I’ll see you here at 7pm tomorrow night.” Haechan turns around to run back to his friends, sending you one last wave goodbye and almost tripping down the stairs as he does.
You take a deep breath and turn around to walk up the rest of the steps. You’re unsure if you did the right thing by agreeing to see him tomorrow night, but the deed is now done, and you can only wait for Donghyuck to quench your curiosity.
As promised, you meet Donghyuck at 7 o’clock sharp the next day. He’s already waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs.
“So, where are you taking me?” You ask after saying your hello’s.
“It’s a surprise.” He smiles and nods his head to make you follow him. He leads you through parts of campus you haven’t seen yet, the buildings looking older and older the further down the path you walk. Soon, Donghyuck takes a sharp turn into what looks like the middle of the forest but is really just a small, hidden extension of the trail.
Under a canopy of tall trees that wave with the wind to you and Donghyuck, there is a skinny trail that leads to glimmering water. It draws you in, your curiosity struck and your feet now moving on their own accord. Bushes tickle your ankles and the smell of some sort of flower you cannot identify floods your senses, but you can only keep walking towards the sparkling water.
The scene in front of you takes your breath away, a crisp gasp that you have no control over leaves your lips. The pond before you is big, stretching further than what you can see. The water is blue and the setting sun’s light reflects off of it to create rippling sparkles. There are some lily pads floating around, their flowers gone due to the temperature dropping recently.
You didn’t even notice that you stopped walking, your eyes wide as you take in the scenery before you. You almost forget who you’re with and why you came, but Donghyuck doesn’t let that happen. You snap out of it when he continues to walk along the trail that leads around the pond. You walk alongside Donghyuck, a few feet away with your hands awkwardly tucked into your pockets.
“C’mon, let’s sit.” He motions to a weeping willow tree. It’s tall and the branches sway pleasantly in the wind, completely unaware and indifferent to the years of history in the area. Underneath the tree is a sturdy bench, you sit on the left side while Donghyuck sits on the right side. Then, you both take a few moments to stare at the mesmerizing water that led you all the way to this seemingly magical place.
“Why did you bring me here?” You ask after a bit.
“Do you not like it?” Donghyuck asks back.
“No.” You quickly reply, looking over his side profile before turning back to the water, “I’m just curious.”
“Something in me knew you would like this place, that’s all.” Donghyuck replies while trying to hide his proud smile, looking down at the grass. “You’re curious about a lot of things, huh?”
“Yeah, I can’t help it. There’s just so much I want to know.” It’s easy to talk to him, a bit too easy. You have to keep reminding yourself that you’re supposed to have your guard up in front of him, but it’s proving harder than you thought it would be.
“Like how I’m sure that you’re my soulmate and not the person who is supposed to hurt me?” Donghyuck leans his weight away from you, his eyebrow cocked in a question. You nod your head lightly, playing with your hands on your lap.
“It’s because I’ve already met the person who’s supposed to bring me pain. I’ve already been hurt.” At his words, surprise fills you up and you turn your head to look him straight in the eye.
For some reason, you always thought that when people meet the person who brings them the largest amount of pain to their life, they couldn’t be the same ever again. How does one get hurt so badly, and still live on?
There are so many ways to hurt someone. Some people become bankrupt, some people lose all of their belongings, some people are even physically hurt by the person who has the same mark as them. How does a person go through any of that and still be themselves afterwards? More importantly, how did Donghyuck go through immense pain and still be able to smile at you like he is right here, right now?
“Here.” He begins to explain, pushing his pants around until you can see his second mark through one of the holes in his jeans, a sunflower on his knee, “My dad had the same mark as me.”
“Your…. Dad?” You ask, still confused.
“Mhmm,” He nods, now tracing the petals of the sunflower mark absentmindedly, “My parents immediately knew something was wrong when I was born. Why would a son and dad have the same mark? When I was growing up, he worked a lot, so I spent lots of time with my mom and grew closer to her. I don’t remember much from that time, but I do remember we were happy. We didn’t have a lot, but we had each other; that kind of feeling.” He looks over at you to see if you’re keeping up with the story. To Donghyuck’s surprise, you already have tears lining your eyes.
“Then one day, Dad comes home and tells us he lost his job. I remember my parents fought a lot the few weeks after that happened, mostly about how to raise me if they had no income. Dad would go out and look for work, but always came back with no luck. So eventually, my mom started working. For a while, the reason we could keep living was because of her.” Donghyuck swallows and pauses for a moment before continuing.
“And then one night, dad came home and told us he gambled. Everything, he gambled everything away. Even the little that we had, it wasn’t ours anymore. That night, my dad told me I was a mistake. My parents never meant to have me, and he said…” Donghyuck purses his lips for a moment. It had been a while since he thought about this. The scar on his heart still hurts when he picks at it. “... He said that he wished I had never been born. Then, we wouldn’t have been in that mess.”
“How old were you?” You speak up after a moment.
“Seven? Or eight.” He nods and sniffs his nose, looking down at his knee. The whole day, Donghyuck was preparing himself to tell you this story. He felt that the only way to get close to you was to open up like this first, to show you that he isn’t someone scary or bad. To Donghyuck’s surprise, telling this story hurts less now than it did earlier in this life. Maybe that means time is working, and his heart is being mended bit by bit.
Donghyuck leans his elbows against his knees, looking at the water once again while waiting for you to say anything. Are you still curious? What do you think of him now?
He was in no way prepared to feel your arms wrap around his waist in a hug, your head resting against his shoulder and your chest pressed against his side. He freezes for a moment, and then melts into your embrace completely. He’s overcome with lovesick softness for you, lightly griping the part of your arm that’s across his chest as his head turns to the side to press a kiss to the top of your head. It’s so quick that you don’t even have time to move away or to react. You just let it happen, as it’s supposed to be.
“You said that something in you knew I would like this place,” You mumble against him. He hears your voice straining with emotion, “Well, something in me knows that you need this right now.”
You and Donghyuck sit there until the sparkling water is no longer fueled by the sun’s light, but by the moon’s. It seems as though now you’ve touched Donghyuck, you never wanted to stop. You’re almost one hundred percent sure that it’s because of the soulmate bond, and a part of you nags at yourself for already chipping away at the promise you made to yourself when you were younger.
However, younger you never knew what it would be like to have a person sit in front of you and share a part of his past with you in an act of confidence and security. Your younger self never knew what it would be like to feel the same pain as someone else, and the pull you felt to touch him after sensing that physical affection would help ease that pain away.
Your younger self had no idea it was this easy to fall into a person, especially when you know they’ll catch you.
“God, I’m so sick and tired of Accounting. ___, I’m quitting school.” Xiaojun gravely tells you, his eyes not wavering from his computer screen.
“Shut up and do your homework, Jun.” You mumble, your eyes not leaving your own computer screen as you type up your Ethics essay. Three weeks into school and you’re already fully emerged in your classes. The newness of college has faded and now it’s time to start the next four years of studying endlessly for the future.
“Are you guys… okay? You haven’t moved over there in a few hours.” Mark asks from the other side of the room where he’s doing his own homework. He eyes you and your best friend from where you’re sitting on his bed, “Are you even comfortable?”
You and Xiaojun are sharing a blanket, he’s leaning against his headboard and you’re leaning against the wall. Your legs are thrown over his and several textbooks are scattered over the blanket. You’re not even sure which of these books are yours or his, or which papers laying in messy stacks belong to who.
“Yeah, I think we’re okay. We’ve been studying like this since high school.” Xiaojun answers, his fingers moving along his keyboard at the same time. You nod at Mark and he shakes his head, not understanding you two but accepting the answer.
You’re over at the guys’ dorm room enough that Mark is not surprised to see you here anymore, hanging out with Xiaojun or waiting for him to come back from class. It’s not that you don’t like your own dorm room, but it’s always so quiet in there since your roommate always studies at the library. You only hear her come into the room late at night when you’re on the verge of sleep, and when she leaves early in the morning before your alarm rings. Weekends are the same. You don’t really care, but you’ve started to hate the quiet, so you’re glad that Mark and Xiaojun don’t mind you chilling here.
“Argh,” Mark yawns and stretches after a few minutes, throwing his computer to the side and standing up, “I’m getting some snacks from the vending machine. You guys want anything?”
After you and Xiaojun answer with simultaneous shakes of your heads, which creeps Mark out, he leaves the room to get food. The room is silent for a few more moments until Xiaojun angles the lid of his laptop down to look at you.
“So… How’s the guy?”
“What guy?” You ask, still preoccupied with your essay.
“Your soulmate, ___, what other guy is there?” Xiaojun answers exasperatedly, “You never told me his name, so I don’t know what to call him. Actually, I haven’t heard you talk about him since the first day of classes. I was hoping you’d tell me what happened with him, but I guess I have to go digging up your dirt myself.” He rolls his eyes.
“His name is Haechan.” You answer, moving your computer to the side, “And I haven’t said anything to you about him because… I haven’t seen him in weeks.” You admit quietly.
“Huh? Didn’t you say you were meeting up so he could tell you why he’s sure you’re his soulmate?” You nod your head at the question, “So, what happened after that?”
“Well… I kinda, maybe, sort of…. have been avoiding him.” You answer quietly, stealing a glance at your best friend to see him staring at you blankly. When he sighs and reaches for his pillow, your eyes widen and you hold up your hands in front of you, spewing pleas and ‘wait’s. Xiaojun doesn’t care, though, flinging his pillow from behind him and into your face.
“Ow?” You whine after the pillow makes contact with your head and forces you to turn to face the other way, “Was that necessary?” You rub your nose, the part of your face that hurts worse from his attack. You’re used to Xiaojun doing this to you whenever you did something that both of you know you shouldn’t have so that you can “get some sense knocked into you, hopefully.”
“You’re so dumb. So, so dumb. Why would you avoid him.” It’s not a question, more of a confused statement to the general air. “You realize people would kill to meet their soulmate, right? People would do anything to be in your position, but you just hide away?”
“People would do anything to meet their soulmate, but people would also do anything to stay away from the person who shares their other mark.” You retaliate, “You don’t understand. To me, Haechan is both of those people.”
“There you go again, worrying about the future when you’re not even sure about what is going to happen. When will you stop worrying about something you can’t control and start thinking about today?” Xiaojun sounds so tired talking about this topic, a conversation you’ve had many times in your friendship. You wonder if he’s so tired of it, why he keeps bringing it up himself.
Before you can answer, the door to the room opens and Mark walks in, several snacks in his arms, “Hey, everyone, I hope it’s okay I brought a friend. He’s in the same major as me, just a year younger—”
“___?” Mark stops talking when his friend speaks, surprised that he already knows one of the people in the room. Your eyes widen, jaw slackening as you’re unable to even let out a peep from your mouth.
“You know each other?” Mark asks, looking between his two friends.
“Yeah, you could say I know my soulmate.” Donghyuck replies, making both Xiaojun and Mark’s eyes widen. You suddenly realize the situation you’re in: under a blanket with Xiaojun, your pajamas on, and your soulmate in front of you after you ghosted him for weeks. For the first time in a while, your eyes meet.
Donghyuck is mad. You can tell by how his fists are clenched and his jaw is tightened. Slowly getting out of the bed, you try to form some words, but Donghyuck snaps and walks over to you quickly. Grabbing your hand, he pulls you out of the room and down the hallway until you get to the lounge area. When you reach the empty room, that’s when you come to your senses.
“Donghyuck,” You pull your arm out of his, making him turn to face you, “I’m not even wearing shoes.” You hiss, pointing down to your feet as if to prove some point.
“What was all that?” He disregards your comment and hisses back at you, stepping closer so that you’re barely a few inches apart. “You were under a blanket. With some guy. Don’t you feel wrong doing that?” He asks, his hands now on his hips. You feel slightly like you’re being lectured to.
“That guy is my best friend.” You spit out.
“So, do you go around and do that to all of your guy friends?” Donghyuck chuckles vehemently, you can tell he’s angry and jealous, and that those emotions are clouding his brain at the moment. That doesn’t mean his words don’t hurt, though.
“Xiaojun and I have been best friends since we were in diapers. I’ve known you for three weeks, barely. I’m more comfortable around him than I am with you. You think just because I’m your soulmate, I’ll automatically trust you and we’ll all of a sudden be a happy couple? It doesn’t work like that, Donghyuck. I don’t even know you.” You can tell you hurt him by your last words because he turns silent, his shoulders slouching and his anger subsiding.
You can tell you hurt him, hard, because you feel the hurt, too.
It makes you realize how scary the bond between soulmates is. Even though you and Donghyuck haven’t spent that much time together to strengthen your bond, it’s still strong enough to allow you to feel his emotions. It makes you wonder if Donghyuck will be able to feel your pain in the future when he hurts you, like he’s destined to.
“Have you even tried to get to know me? You’ve been avoiding me ever since I took you to the pond.” At his comment, you fold your arms over your chest and look away, not ready to answer that question.
“I’m… just scared, is all.” You manage to reply. Although not the complete truth, it’s not a total lie. Donghyuck completely softens at your words, his close proximity to you feels less threatening and turns into something more gentle. His hand softly slips into yours, but this time with a lighter touch than before.
“You don’t have to be scared, not around me. I’m new to this too, so I don’t know how it all works yet, but this is something we can figure out together. That’s what we were fated to do.” Donghyuck can feel his words pulling you closer to him, he can feel you on the edge and he’s ready to catch you with his arms wide open.
But in the last second, you take a step back and slip your hand out of his, making his drop limply to his sides. You send him a look, something he can’t read, and then turn around and walk back to the dorm he pulled you out of.
He almost had you, almost.
When midterms come around, you use your upcoming tests and projects as a way to dive deep into your work so that you don’t have to think about Donghyuck. It’s a good plan overall, however your friends quickly start worrying for you and your health. Staying up late several nights in a row and not even being able to remember when the last time you ate is where Xiaojun pulled the plug on your bad studying habits. He confiscated your backpack and dropped you off in front of your dorm building with the promise that you’ll have all of your things back tomorrow morning only if you rest for tonight.
On your way to the elevator, you run into Yuqi, both of your facial expressions brightening when you recognize each other.
“Oh, ___, Hi!” You stop in the middle of the hallway to greet her, a smile pulling at your lips due to her bright hello. “How are you?”
“Midterms are kicking my ass, but other than that I’m fine.” She laughs at your answer, throwing her head back and letting her new short hair ruffle her shoulders.
“I wish I could tell you it gets better, but that would be a lie.” You nod your head in solemn understanding, “Listen, I can’t talk for long since I have a night class, but promise to text me when things slow down, yeah?”
“Of course, I promise.” You nod, just the thought of spending some time with a good friend already pushes away your stress. You wave bye to Yuqi as she begins to turn around but after a loud “oh!” leaves her lips, she turns back to face you.
“Your roommate, her name is Mya, right?” At her random question, you tilt your head in confusion, “She has really long, black hair and big glasses, right? I think I saw her when I was helping you move in?”
“Yeah, that’s her.” You nod, “Why?”
“She found her soulmate today.” You would’ve been more interested in the news if you knew Mya beyond when she goes to class and when she gets back to the dorm, but you feign surprise and nod your head absentmindedly.
“Lucas managed to get a video. It was a whole performance in the quad today, you’d think someone was getting married. I’ll send it to you later.” And with that, she says her last goodbye and runs off. You slowly turn and continue walking in a slow pace up to your dorm room, taking the stairs just so you can have some time to think and be away from people you could potentially run into if you use the elevator.
You’re genuinely happy for Mya, even if you barely know a single thing about her. However, something about a person close to you finding their soulmate makes you sad, considering the situation with your own soulmate. You can’t help but feel a little jealous that there are people who can meet their soulmate and fall into each other’s lives easily.
In times like these, you crave for Donghyuck.
You crave his touch and his words, you crave that comfortable feeling of belonging somewhere you get when he’s around. It’s insane that you haven’t spent much time together, yet you can yearn for someone to the extent that it hurts. It’s been like this ever since Donghyuck pulled you out of Xiaojun’s dorm and you rejected him.
Turning away from him all those weeks ago still haunts you. When you’re struggling to fall asleep, your mind goes to that night. When you let your mind wander, it wanders to that night. You constantly think about stepping away from him, but you’re not sure if you keep remembering the moment out of guilt or shame. One of the questions you keep asking yourself is if you did the right thing. You still do not have an answer.
When you walk into your dorm room, you kick off your shoes and turn on your bedside lamp, falling onto your bed with a deep sigh. You close your eyes for a second, but the peace and quiet of your room is ruined when your phone dings with a notification.
Yuqi’s message pops up, and when you swipe your phone open you can see she sent a video. You click on it and turn the volume up. This was no doubt taken earlier today in the quad, the sun shining and lots of professors and students walking in the background. Under the huge clock tower stand two people, one of them holding a large bouquet of roses. When the clock strikes noon, the bells on top of the tower begin to ring a familiar melody that can be heard all over your big campus. You see the exchange of the bouquet and the two people hug, and then applause rises from the people walking by. You smile when you hear Lucas’ whooping and hollering from behind the phone.
You’ve heard about the tradition of soulmates meeting under the clock tower at your university. Yuqi told you about it when she was giving you a tour around campus at the beginning of the semester. You remember her telling you that it’s really romantic, probably due to the history of so many people getting together in the exact same spot.
Although the idea is rather plain, you do feel your heart strings tug at the beautiful display, glad you could see something like this through a video. Then, as the camera gets closer to the couple, your smile fades and you pause the video, zooming in to get a better view. Mya is no doubt the one who received the flowers, but you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows as you recognize her soulmate.
It’s one of Donghyuck’s friends.
Not the quiet one with black hair that hangs around on the outside of their group, but the shorter one who seemed to simultaneously love and hate Donghyuck, or at least that’s what you gathered from seeing him a few times.
After the realization, you drop your phone to the side and stare up at your ceiling in defeat. Is this fate? If you didn’t meet Donghyuck on those steps two months ago, would you eventually meet him through your roommate and her soulmate? Or is this all just one big coincidence?
In this world, coincidences are harder to find than the work of fate.
Your train of thought is quickly cut off by the opening on the door, you quickly sit up to watch a huge red bouquet of flowers enter the room, followed by your roommate. You’ve only seen her face a few times this semester, but never have her features looked so bright and happy. She also looks startled when she notices you’re in the room, but her happiness doesn’t fade.
“Oh? You’re here?” She asks.
“I could ask you the same thing.” You both chuckle awkwardly, “Congrats, by the way. For finding your soulmate.” You motion to the flowers in her hand.
“Thank you! To be honest, Renjun wasn’t at all what I expected in a soulmate, but I think I love him already.” The sweetness drips from her eyes and words, and you nod and smile, remembering that Donghyuck’s friend’s name is Renjun. Her phone begins to ring and she shuffles the flowers in her hand to look at the screen, “Oh, it’s him.”
She answers the call, speaking quietly as she walks over to her side of the room. You weigh out the options of sneaking out of your dorm and finding a place to chill until your roommate falls asleep. You're not sure if you can talk to her about soulmate stuff and keep up this happy look on your face.
However, all thoughts of those plans leave your mind when Mya turns to you and holds out the phone, “It’s for you?” She says it more like a question, but you’re sure you’re the one who’s more confused.
“Hello?” You ask into the phone, awkwardly looking around the room.
“___? Oh, thank god. It’s Renjun, Haechan’s friend. I need your help.” He talks quickly and shallowly, like he’s out of breath and currently moving somewhere.
“How did you know I’m Mya’s roommate?” You ask, disregarding his cry for help.
“It’s a long story, I promise I’ll explain later, but can you please come to the auditorium? The back entrance.” You hear more voices in the background of the call, but you can’t make out what they're saying. One of them is definitely Donghyuck.
“What’s going on?” At the sound of your soulmate’s unique tenor, you suddenly become more aware of what might be happening. Is Donghyuck safe? Did he get in trouble?
“Donghyuck drank too much and he won’t go home, he keeps asking for you.” At that, you hand the phone back to Mya, who takes it from you with an unsure look. By the time Mya says her worried goodbyes and hangs up, she turns back to an empty dorm room, your phone snatched from your bed and your scattered shoes gone.
You must’ve made it to the auditorium in record time, not even the climb up the 109 steps could slow you down. When you reach the auditorium, you can hear Donghyuck and his friends conversing loudly and you follow their voices, which eventually leads you to the dingy backside of the auditorium. Donghyuck is sitting on the ground with the hood of his coat pulled up and covering his eye sight, arms crossed over his chest and his lips in a pout. His two friends, Renjun and the black-haired kid, stand above him. The quiet one is shivering in his spot while Renjun practically yells at Donghyuck on the ground, who doesn’t seem to be moving any time soon.
“Hi, ___.” The quiet one notices you first and then all three guys turn to look at you.
“___…” Donghyuck whines out your name and tries to stand up but Renjun gently pushes him back down.
“What happened?” You ask, sniffing your nose when the harsh, cold air nips at it.
“He said he wanted to unwind before his midterms tomorrow but then he went out and had some drinks, a few too many as you can see.” Renjun explains, “We followed him here, he said he won’t go anywhere unless it’s with you.”
“It’s strange. Haechan is a good drinker, I didn’t think he would get drunk so quickly… Oh, I’m Jaemin, by the way.” He introduces himself with a bright smile, as if you weren’t just discussing the drunken state of his friend.
“I’m Renjun, I called you earlier. I promise I have a good explanation for how I know you’re Mya’s roommate, I just don’t think right now is the best time to talk about it.” Renjun explains, his hands pointing towards Donghyuck.
“Right, about him… I think you guys should leave.” Both sober men widen their eyes, looking at each other and then back at you.
“Are you sure you want to handle this yourself? He looks small, but Haechan is kind of heavy.” Jaemin warns.
“Hey!” Donghyuck speaks up, but even his verbalization sounds slurred. When he points an accusing finger at Jaemin, he sways and misses Jaemin’s figure by a whole foot, “Don’t say that kind of stuff to my girlfriend.”
At his use of the word, Jaemin and Renjun stand straight with awkwardness and you sigh, white puffs of air leaving your mouth, “Yeah, you guys should go.”
Renjun and Jaemin give you an unsure look, but turn around and leave the area anyway. Renjun sends one last look over his shoulder with a wave of his hand. You look at Donghyuck after they turn the corner, kicking his shoe gently.
“Hey, get up. How much did you drink?” You’re not actually curious about how much alcohol he consumed, you just want to know if he can even respond to simple questions.
“Babe!” He exclaims when he looks up, “Oh, not much. I could go for another round right now, actually.” His words slur together and he sways in his sitting position against the brick wall of the auditorium.
“You’re not going for another round, you’re going home. C’mon.” You grab onto the sleeve of his puffer jacket, pulling him up so that he’s standing. He immediately falls onto you, his arms around your waist and his legs spread wide so that his head is hidden in your neck.
“Hyuck, you have to walk. Get up.” You pull him up once again, putting one of his arms around your shoulders and giving him more support around his waist. Slowly, you begin to walk away from the auditorium with Donghyuck’s drunk mumbling filling the cool air. His legs barely work underneath him, and he turns his head and leans into your ear every once in a while to sing some random lyric that pops into his mind at that second, like a small concert that he allows only you to hear.
Once you reach the top of the staircase, you stop and take a long look down to the bottom, “Why did you have to come all the way up here? How are we getting down the stairs?” If you start to climb down, Donghyuck could fall and hurt himself. You’re not that strong to begin with and your shoulders are already feeling sore from carrying most of Donghyuck’s weight.
“We can ride this.” He giggles and breaks away from you, one of his legs swinging over the handrail so that he’s straddling it.
“No, no, no.” You pull him off, but his shoe gets caught against the rail and he comes falling down onto you, both of you landing on the top step of the staircase. You wince in pain at how your back hits the concrete, but you don’t think about it much as you push Donghyuck off of you and into the space next to you on the top stair.
“Oh, no. Are we stuck up here?” He asks as you brush your hands together to get rid of the little pieces of concrete in your skin.
“Yes, and it’s all your fault. What are you gonna do about it?” You reply, so sarcastically that even Donghyuck’s drunk brain registers the joke. Your heart almost leaps out of your throat when he grabs your hands and pulls you closer to him, gently picking out each little ball of cement in your palms.
“I’m sorry I keep hurting you.” He apologizes. This close, you can smell the alcohol in his breath, mixed with his shampoo and cologne. He smells warm in this cold weather, and you feel like falling into him and drinking up his scent, not even minding the alcohol stench.
“Keep hurting me?” You ask.
“Yeah, that must be why you don’t want to be with me. I have to be doing something wrong for you to hate me.” He sighs, sniffling and enclosing your hands in his, his glassy eyes looking up at you and his long hair hangs down over his forehead and tickles his eyelashes. “I’m a bad soulmate.”
The way he says it makes your heart break. It makes you feel regret 1000 times worse than what you’ve been feeling these past few weeks; as if all of the worry and sadness hit you all at once, you feel like crying.
Isn’t he supposed to be the one who hurts you? Why does it feel like you’re the only one doing the hurting?
“You’re not a bad soulmate,” It’s not Donghyuck’s fault that he got stuck with you, or that things will turn out the way that they’re destined to, “And I don’t hate you.”
“You don’t?” He looks up into the night sky and sways a bit as he thinks, “Then why won’t you be with me? Hm?” He tilts his head, his lips pouting as he thinks. You desperately want to find an answer that’ll soothe him, but nothing you can come up with will give you that result, the truth included.
“It’s complicated…” You trail off, and your answer makes Donghyuck snort.
“How? I’m your soulmate, you’re mine. What else matters?” He laughs incredulously.
“What if you’re not just my soulmate?” You ask him, surprising yourself with how easily you can ask the question, probably because the influence of alcohol over him has you more at ease, “What if something happens in the future? I’m just… looking out for me, and for you.” You explain, trying to sound as vague as possible.
When you glance at Donghyuck, he looks dead serious. You think that maybe he has suddenly sobered up with how deep and calculating his eyes look. One of his hands tighten around yours while the other slowly raises to your hair, pacing himself along the way, and pausing before he touches you. When you don’t stop him, he gently caresses your hair and moves it away from your face, his nimble fingers sliding to your jaw. He moves your face so that your eyes meet his.
“I know I’m drunk, but I can make this promise again when I’m sober. I’ll make this promise every single day for the rest of my life, only if it means you can be there with me to fulfill it.” The severeness in his tone is like a wake up call about how serious this is for him.
“What promise?” You whisper back.
“It’s not just a ‘you’ or just a ‘me’ now. It’s an ‘us.’ And I will do everything I can to not hurt us.”
He says it with so much conviction that you somehow believe him. You finally fall into him and rest your tired head on his shoulder as he welcomes you into his warm arms. Maybe it’s foolish of you to think you two can go against fate’s words, but with him by your side, you feel like you can conquer the whole universe.
“Stop smiling like that, you’re making it very obvious that you got laid for the first time.” Donghyuck peers over his laptop screen to Renjun, where he has had a permanent smile on his face ever since he, Donghyuck, and Jaemin met up today to study in the lounge center of their dorm building.
“You know, Haechan, I’m not even mad at that. It’s more than what I can say to you.” Renjun tries to hide his widening smile while looking down at his own laptop, but that paired with Jaemin’s quiet laughter leaves Donghyuck bitter. “Didn’t you and ___ make up?” Renjun asks.
“They were fighting? I thought they just weren’t talking to each other?” Jaemin asks.
“Isn’t that fighting?”
“Kids.” Haechan cuts them off, “Not that it’s any of your business, but we were not fighting and we did make up.”
“That makes no sense.” Jaemin mutters and squints his eyes at Donghyuck.
“I’m older than you.” Renjun retaliates, but Donghyuck pretends like he doesn’t hear.
“We’re just… taking it slow.” Donghyuck ends his explanation with a firm nod of his head, and Renjun shuts his laptop and turns to his friend.
“Can you take it slow during the Fair this weekend? I’m planning to go with Mya and accidentally bought two pairs of tickets. I’ll give you the other pair.” Renjun leans into his friend’s side and wiggles his eyebrows.
“At what cost?” Haechan leans in as well and raises an eyebrow.
“Help me with my English project.”
“No way,” Haechan leans back and focuses on his own laptop screen again, “I haven’t even started mine, I don’t have time to help you with yours.”
“Please,” Renjun draws out the word, grabbing Donghyuck’s sleeve and tugging at it so hard that he can’t properly type, “I suck at English, and unfortunately it’s the only thing that you’re better at than me.”
“The only thing?” Donghyuck glares at Renjun. “Now I’m definitely not helping you.” When Renjun whines at that Donghyuck gets a devilish idea, and it shows by the smirk on his face, “... Unless, you’d like to show us how you really need help.”
At Donghyuck’s proposition, he leans back in his chair with his arms folded across his chest while Jaemin mirrors his actions, his own goofy smile on his face as he waits for Renjun to either accept or deny the proposition, but he hopes he’ll accept it.
Renjun looks between his two friends and sighs, dropping his head down as he mentally prepares himself. When he lifts his head, he looks at Donghyuck with his lips pursed, his pointer finger over them and makes a “kyu” sound that is way higher than his original speaking voice. Jaemin and Haechan immediately burst into as quiet of laughter as they can, Jaemin reaching over the table to poke Renjun’s cheek at his cuteness.
“I never said to act cute, I just wanted you to say please again.” Donghyuck jokes through his snickering, and Renjun immediately stands up from his chair to take a fistful of Haechan’s jacket and pull back his other fist, all cuteness gone from his facial features in a split second.
“Okay, okay, sorry, sorry.” Haechan tries to pull away, his voice rising as Renjun holds onto his jacket tighter and threateningly leans in.
“Hey, quiet down.” Someone whisper-shouts from a few tables away, and it makes Renjun let go of Donghyuck and slowly sit back down. “This isn’t even a library, why are they shushing me.” He grumbles.
“You guys have fun on your date,” Jaemin sighs as he begins to put away his things, satisfied with the study session and with his friends' mischief, “I would go too, but I don’t feel like being a fifth wheel.”
Once your classes end on the day of the Fair, you and your roommate meet up with Donghyuck and Renjun outside of the Fair grounds. You and Donghyuck walk side by side, a bit behind the other couple as they lead the way, practically in their own little bubble. Your hands are shoved in your pockets to keep them from turning numb from the cold and you try to shove your head as far into your jacket as you can to keep your face and neck protected from the wind. Other than the chilly weather, it’s a perfect day for a Fair.
You don’t seem to notice Donghyuck’s predicament right beside you; he’s trying to find a way to hold your hand, but you don’t move them out of your pockets. Actually, Donghyuck is sure you’re doing this on purpose, since he has been trying to touch you the moment you met up with him tonight.
“So, what do you wanna ride first?” He asks you. After looking around the area, your eyes land on a tea cup ride, where the large cups move in circles and also spin in their spots.
“That.” You point to it. Before you can move, Donghyuck latches into your hand that was pointing into the air and pulls you to the ride, a smug smile on his face at how he succeeded in finally sharing some skin to skin contact.
The ride was, to say the least, nauseating. Not that it was disgusting, but Donghyuck wouldn’t stop spinning your individual cup around in fast circles, and you were so sure that you would fling off any second due to the strong velocity those tiny cups have when they go at full speed. However, walking off of the ride with wobbly legs and not being able to see straight was funnier than you thought it would be.
Donghyuck was actually still pretty dizzy when he tried to win a stuffed octopus for you with a dart game. However, he ended up losing $15 while trying to win the game, and you’re sure he would’ve spent more if you didn’t pull him away. After eating some good food and refilling your energy, the sun begins to set on the horizon in a colorful display of red, orange and pink, and people start to make their way to the ferris wheel.
“C’mon,” You hear Mya say from behind you, “We need to get in line first or else we’ll be waiting for half of the night.” She pulls Renjun by his sleeve and passes you and Donghyuck, practically running to the end of the growing line for the Ferris Wheel. When you see where she’s running to, you stop in your tracks which in turn makes Donghyuck stop. Your intertwined fingers pull you back to each other as he looks at you with a puzzled look.
“I’m… not good with heights.” You confess and look towards the top of the ferris wheel, shivering just at the thought of going that far up into the sky in a metal contraption, “Or small spaces…” You add on.
“That’s okay,” Donghyuck gently reassures, smiling lightly at your sudden timidness about your fears. Honestly, he’s just happy you now trust him a bit more to even tell him what you’re afraid of. “We don’t have to go. We can do something else.”
“Like what?” You ask. Donghyuck purses his lips and looks around, until a set of stairs on the edge of the fairgrounds catches his eye.
“I know a place where we can still get a good view of the sunset without going too far up.” He replies and tugs you along with him towards the set of stairs. They lead down to the park that’s nestled in the middle of your University, which eventually leads to a pedestrian bridge that crosses over a river that runs through your town.
The river isn’t that big, nor is the bridge, but it’s big enough to have your head tilting up in wonder as you gaze at the lights adorning the sides of it, lighting up not only the bridge itself by the sky as well. You’ve seen this bridge from your dorm room, but you’ve never once stood on it, and it looks remarkable from this close up.
Donghyuck continues to lead you over the pedestrian bridge onto the other side, where an outdoor museum that was constructed by art students a few years ago holds several different abstract paintings. His hand in yours, which has been it’s resting place all night, keeps yours warm. You try not to think about how your hands fit into each other like the gears of a hand-crafted watch. The lines on your palms connect with the lines on his; it’s painfully obvious he was made for you and you were made for him.
When you reach the end of the outdoor museum, you turn west and face the sunset just as it’s setting over the skyline. Even though some tall buildings obstruct the view, the colors of the sky stretch overhead and make both you and Donghyuck stand still and appreciate the artwork in the sky.
“You like these kinds of things, huh? Sunsets, and ponds, and that kind of stuff?” He suddenly asks, not talking his eyes off of the sky. You, however, turn to look at him. He has his eyes screwed as he tries to look at the sunset, obviously not liking the bright sunlight.
“You don’t?” You ask back.
“I think... there are more enjoyable things.” Donghyuck takes a while to make up his mind about what he wants, obviously trying not to make the things you enjoy sound bad to him.
“Then we should go.” You turn around, but he pulls you back to your original spot.
“We walked all this way, we’re watching this sunset even if my feet freeze to the ground.” He tightens his grip on your hand and speaks through his teeth, making you sputter out a laugh and hit his shoulder with your own lightly.
“Sometimes, I wonder why fate put us together.” You ask, watching as the sun moves bit by bit, leaving behind trails of light and the beginnings of stars and the vast universe on the other side of the sky. “We’re different. I don’t know about you, but you are not who I imagined my soulmate would be.” You speak truthfully.
Even though there are some strings attached to Donghyuck’s relationship with you, it didn’t stop you from thinking about what kind of person he’d be— what kind of person fate would pick to be your perfect fit. Maybe they would have some sort of major flaw, like an anger problem or a lack of common sense. Maybe they would be an alcoholic or someone who commits crimes.
When it came to your soulmate, you always thought of something bad considering that they were also going to hurt you in some way. You never thought that your soulmate would be someone as unique and fun as Donghyuck. Fate made it way too easy to be with him, and you’re not sure whether to feel bitter or thankful.
“Well,” He blows some air through his nose, “You’re exactly what I thought my soulmate would be like” Your heart jumps into your throat and beats irregularly when Donghyuck says that, struck with the feeling of surprise once again.
“Mark tells me you’re smart and get good grades, and I know it was you who ordered that soup for me the morning after you took me home when I got drunk. Not to mention, you went out when it was dark to take me home in the first place.” Donghyuck explains, his hand that’s still interlocked with yours waving around as he does so, “You’re willing to help others, you have a good head on your shoulders, and not to mention you guard your heart to the very end.”
“Guarding my heart… That’s an admirable quality? If I remember correctly, it caused you some pain in the past few months.” By now, the last rays of the sun are disappearing over the horizon and night begins to blanket the sky. You turn to your soulmate when he takes more than a moment to answer, watching the way his face reacts to the thoughts turning in his head.
“Yeah, it is a great quality. I think if you completely trusted me the moment you saw me on those stairs, we wouldn’t end up here now. You wouldn’t be the perfect fit for me if you loved me so easily.” He turns to you, a teasing smile playing on his lips. Your interlocked fingers are basically frozen together at this point and maybe your feet really have stuck to the ground, but his words warm you up from the inside out.
“I think I would’ve fallen in love with you even if we weren’t destined to be together.”
Somehow, he manages to remind you of one very important fact that you’ve set aside since the moment you met him. You’ve always put the fact that he’s supposed to hurt you first, and the fact that he’s your soulmate second. However, he is a human and so are you, and you’re both given the opportunity to love one another wholly and truly. People die to have this type of moment. People live their whole lives without experiencing this type of emotion.
It’s time to remember that Donghyuck is your soulmate, first and foremost. He is deserving of love, and you’re now willing to give it to him.
When you pull Donghyuck into you, he feels like it may be a hallucination. Surely your lips can’t be that close to his own. But when he smells the cinnamon on your lips from that churro you had and your fingers sliding up his arm to grip his jacket, he becomes scared that this might actually be a hallucination.
You slowly lean in, almost painfully slow, but Donghyuck doesn’t dare rush you. When your lips do meet, both of you feel complete. The feeling of finishing a lifetime’s worth of work with one gentle kiss is the most delicious feeling ever, different from anything that either of you have ever experienced.
It’s slow and careful, but passionate and full of true love. No matter what happens in the future, it will always be your memory to savor and remember for the rest of your lives.
“___!” You hear Mark’s voice from your right, turning your head quickly to see him stick his hand up in the air and begin to make his way through the throngs of people between you two. You move towards him, attempting to meet in the middle, but somehow he ends up behind you, and you laugh as you attempt to meet again.
“Hey, Mark,” You look over him, noting how well he manages to pull off the choir robe that everyone else seems to look like a sack of potatoes in, “I didn’t know your concerts could get this packed. You guys could start your own group and make it big.” You look around while adjusting the flowers in your hand so they don’t get squished against your chest.
“Nah, it’s mostly just families that come to these concerts. Since there are a lot of vocal majors, there are a lot of families that show up.” He explains.
“So, what does that make me?” You joke, but Mark doesn’t seem to get it and tilts his head to the side.
“You’re Donghyuck’s girlfriend. That makes you family, right?” At the mention of your relationship, you glance down at the flowers in your hand, the flowers that are meant for the aforementioned boy. You nod, mumbling something like a ‘I guess’ before Mark looks down at his watch and sucks a breath through his teeth.
“Okay, I have to go warm up. Make sure you get a seat in the middle, that’s where it sounds best.” He gives you a quick wave as he walks away, and you manage to send one back. Before you know it, the doors to the auditorium open and people flood in to grab the best seat they can.
You barely manage to snag a seat in the middle, an older lady to your right and a grandpa to your left who seem to be unrelated and didn’t mind you sitting between them. You shrug off your coat as you look around, feeling anxiety build up in your chest. You know you don’t have anything to be anxious for, so you deduct that it’s probably Donghyuck.
He invited you to the concert today. For him, it’s part of his final grade for his vocal class and for you, it’s a chance to see him sing on stage. Strangely, he has talked about how much he loves to perform but never wants to sing in front of you. When he told you he auditioned for a solo in one of the songs, and ended up getting the part, you knew you absolutely had to come today.
Pulling out your phone, you send Donghyuck a text saying that you’re seated and that you wish him to break a leg. You see the read receipt pop up next to your text, and although he doesn’t text anything back, the anxious feeling in your chest subsides and you smile to yourself.
“Those are pretty flowers.” Turning your head to the lady on your right, you glance down at the bouquet of black-eyed susans on your lap.
“Oh, thank you.” You put your phone on silent and slip it into your pocket.
“They’re my mom’s favorite.” Your attention turns to a kid who sits on the other side of the woman. He can’t be any older than ten, and his feet don’t touch the ground as he swings them back and forth and looks up at his mother.
“Oh?” You ask, turning back to the older woman, “Would you like some?”
The woman seems to be stunned by your question, obviously not expecting you to hand over flowers at such a comment from her son. She looks almost flustered as she shakes her head at you.
“No, it’s okay. I bet those are for someone special?” She asks while nodding towards the stage.
“They’re for my… boyfriend.” You mumble, still not used to the words leaving your tongue, even though it has been more than a few weeks now.
“Then you should save them for him.” She nods and you smile back.
“But I want one.” The woman’s son pouts, and the mother nudges her foot against his leg. You laugh a bit, using your right hand to hold down the bouquet and your left to pull out a flower. Carefully, you hand it over to the little boy and he grasps it, his pout turning into a smile while he sings a ‘thank you’ and counts the petals on the flower.
The woman gives you a nod, and you all turn to face forward where the students are beginning to walk onto the stage.
The concert went well; you weren’t familiar with any of the pieces of music the choir performed, and many of them were in different languages, but you still enjoyed the performance by the many music students from your university. You managed to catch sight of Donghyuck fairly quickly, and Mark was just a few rows behind him.
Donghyuck’s solo fit his voice perfectly. Maybe you’re biased, but you think no one would be able to match his tone and technique to fit the song as perfectly as he did. Since it was the first time you heard him sing, you were a bit taken back by how amazing his voice sounds and how much control he has of it. It didn’t look like he struggled to hit the notes, and he looked like he was in his element on stage.
After the concert, you wait on the staircase outside of the auditorium building where you agreed to meet up with Donghyuck. You roll on your feet, jumping up and down slightly to keep warm. You clutch the flowers to you, scared that the cold weather might cause them to bend and begin to wilt quicker.
“Oh, it’s the flower lady!” You hear a familiar voice call out, and you turn your head to see the little boy and his mom from earlier… walking with Donghyuck? He has his choir robe hanging from one arm and his other hand intertwined with the little kid.
“Do you guys know each other?” Donghyuck asks, looking between the three of you with confusion.
“We happened to sit next to each other during the concert.” The woman explains, a grin growing on her face as she looks between you two. “This is your soulmate.” She doesn’t say it like a question, she says it plainly and nods her head in content.
“I’m sorry, did you already know who I was when we met?” You ask her.
“No, until I saw the mark on your left hand. I would recognize my own son’s mark anywhere.” Son? This is Donghyuck’s mother?! Your eyebrows must be up to your hairline and you think your mouth might be open, but you can only focus on remembering every little thing you said to her before the concert started to recall if you said anything dumb.
“Let me introduce you properly. This is ___, my soulmate and my girlfriend. ___, this is my mom, Sara, and my half-brother, Hyunjin.” Donghyuck gently takes your elbow and pulls you closer to him.
“It’s nice to meet you.” You politely greet them as if it’s the first time ever.
“Well, I like her. She gave me a flower.” Hyunjin exclaims.
“Back off, she’s mine.” Donghyuck jokes with the kid. “Thank you guys for coming today, by the way.” He continues, “I appreciate my favorite people being here for my first college performance.”
Donghyuck goes to hug his mom as she sets a kiss to his cheek that makes him cringe away slightly. However, you’re still struck to your spot from being included into Donghyuck’s group of favorite people. There’s a warm feeling in your chest at being included into something so special so early on in your relationship. There’s also some anxiety that comes with it, since promises that are made too early hurt the most, but you push the feeling away and soak in Donghyuck’s unconditional love.
After you all bid farewell to each other, and Sara and Hyunjin leave, you turn to Donghyuck with a deadpan expression, “You didn’t tell me I’d be meeting your family today.”
“Would you believe me when I say that I forgot they were coming?” He asks and you roll your eyes, not believing his words at all.
“These are for you.” You push the flowers into his chest and dig your hands into your pockets so that they can finally get warm, “Your solo was… interesting to listen to.” You say with annoyance dripping from every word.
“Thank you,” He replies cutely, not affected by your irritation. You roll your eyes again, but a smile tugs at your lips as well. “What kind of flowers are these? I don’t think I’ve ever seen them?” He asks while digging his nose into the bouquet.
“Black-eyed susans.” You reply, and Donghyuck gives you a weird look.
“That’s such a random flower.”
“They attract dragonflies.” You explain, nudging his side with your elbow. When you glance over to him, he has a smile playing on his lips.
“Should I be giving these to you, then?” He hands them over, but you push them back at him.
“No way. I’m already attracted to you.” You state, turning around to walk back down the staircase. When you don’t hear any footsteps following you, you turn around to find Donghyuck kneeling over with the flowers clutched close to him.
“Are you okay?” Alarm rises in your chest, especially when he shakes his head at your question.
“No, you just made my heart beat really fast and I’m afraid I’m gonna have a heart attack.” You would roll your eyes again, but you’re afraid they might roll out of your head at this point. You climb back up the stairs and yank on his sleeve jacket to make him walk alongside you.
“___, feel my heart. I swear it’s going to beat out of my chest.”
“Shut up, Donghyuck.”
“No, seriously, I think we should go to the hospital.”
“Shut up.”
In the morning, Donghyuck loves to wake up next to you. He has always been a spread-out type of sleeper; arms to the side, legs open, laying diagonally across the bed. Once you two moved out of your dorms and moved into an apartment together during your second year of college, Donghyuck’s way of sleeping changed dramatically.
Now, he can’t help but snuggle in, wrap his arms around you, tangle his legs in with yours, and do everything he can to sleep as close as he can to you. Maybe that’s why he suddenly woke up. The absence of you next to him made him shuffle awake, missing the frame of your body next to his like how it usually fits.
He groggily opens his eyes and immediately shivers, catching the open windows in the bedroom letting in fresh, cool, morning air. Donghyuck shivers once again, blindly reaching for the blanket and wrapping it around his head and shoulders, then making his way out of the bedroom in search of you.
He checks the kitchen, but you’re not there. Then he goes to the living room, and he sees your figure outside on the balcony, the curtains that are supposed to be hanging up in your bedroom moving with the wind as they hang next to you. He tightens the blanket around him and opens the glass door. Even though you definitely heard him come outside, you don’t turn around. You have a cup of something warm next to you and you’re leaning against the balcony while staring out into the city skyline, watching the sun rise into the sky to welcome the new day.
“Good morning.” Donghyuck mumbles as softly as he can. When you mumble back a reply, he opens the front of the blanket so he can swallow you into his embrace. His chin rests on your shoulder and tries to guess exactly what you’re looking at, but when he lifts his head to look at your face, your eyes are closed.
“So, do you want to tell me why our curtains are out here and not on our windows like they should be?” He rests his head against yours, also closing his eyes.
“I woke up and suddenly felt the urge to clean them, I don’t know.” You laugh a bit, making both of you move with the movement of your chest. Donghyuck smiles at your reason; one of the things he learned about you when you moved in together is that your work ethic comes in random bursts of energy, rather than carefully planned out schedules to follow. You always have a small goal for every day, and sometimes you don’t even know what it is until it randomly pops into your head. Although he doesn’t really understand how you’re able to work like that, he loves this little quirk anyway.
“Did I wake you up?” You whisper and nudge your head into Donghyuck’s, nuzzling back into him when a particularly strong gust of wind blows over the balcony.
“Not technically, no. You not being next to me woke me up.” He replies.
“Well, I’m here now. How about we sleep some more?” You ask, leaning back against him and looking at his face.
“Best thing I’ve heard today.” He sighs. Without letting you out of his blanket trap, he walks you both back into the apartment and into your bedroom, both of you beginning to giggle at one point when you almost trip over the blanket and crash into the ground.
Thankfully, you both made it back safely to the bed, falling into the soft mattress. Immediately, Donghyuck gathers you in his arms and cuddles you to him, almost like he’s latching onto you. You wrap your arms around him slowly and lean into his shoulder, placing a kiss against his collarbone. You were going to stop there, but when he lets out a whimper at the small press of your lips to his skin, you continue moving up his neck.
When you reach the space underneath his ear, he twitches at how you suck on the sensitive skin, not expecting you to pay closer attention there. His hand slides over your back, between your shoulder blades, and back down, pressing you to him as he caresses you and silently hopes you don’t stop what you’ve started.
You don’t seem to have any intention to do that when you lean back, looking up at Donghyuck’s big, round eyes as they stare down hazily at you and quickly connecting your lips. He kisses back slowly, as if taking his sweet, sweet time in loving you.
“I thought we were supposed to sleep?” You ask between kisses.
“We can sleep later…” He trails off, grabbing your hand and pulling you on top of him so that you’re straddling his hips. “... If you’re really tired we don’t have to.” He suddenly pulls away, his hand comfortably resting over your waist.
“No way. It’s too late for that.” You answer, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it to the other side of the bed. A chill runs through you at the cold temperature in the room, goosebumps forming over your arms and your nipples hardening. Donghyuck wraps his arms around your middle and presses a kiss in the valley of your chest, moving over until he reaches your left nipple and taking it into his mouth.
Biting your lip, your hands find his hair and tug on the long strands. Donghyuck’s hands squeeze your sides and his fingers draw random, little lines over your bare skin as he sucks and plays with your nipples, switching between each one.
“Hyuck…” You whine, giving a particularly sharp tug to his hair when he bites down onto your right nipple. “Please…” You trail off.
“Hmm? Please what? What do you want.” He leans back and looks up at you. You comb your fingers through his hair, pushing it back away from his face and behind his ears. His eyes are clouded and hooded over by the thoughts of you that are speeding through his mind.
“Please, make love to me.” You say it shyly, your eyes looking over his face but not meeting his own. He can’t help but smile at your timidness. You act like it’s the first time those words came out of your mouth. He can’t help but find it endearing how you ask him to make love to you every single time you find yourselves in this position.
“Of course, anything for you.” He connects your lips again, keeping the slow and steady pace from before. He shifts around as he moves his boxers away. Breaking the kiss, you move his hands away and pump his shaft, glancing up at him as he leans back with his weight on his hands and his head leaning back.
He lets out whines every time you twist your wrist, and you almost want to take a moment and stay this way, loving the sounds coming from Donghyuck’s mouth and how he looks as he pants beneath you. However, the tension growing between your legs makes you stop and sit up, pulling off your own pajama bottoms and underwear, throwing them somewhere along with your shirt.
Donghyuck grips your hips with one hand, the other pressing his middle finger to your slick folds, watching you squirm from above as he slides his finger through slowly.
“Just— Can you just do something already?” You almost whine out, grabbing onto his arm hard enough that you leave crescent moons in his skin.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, yes, I’m sure.” With your permission, Donghyuck positions himself at your entrance and slowly brings your hips down, watching your reaction throughout it all. The way your jaw slacks and drops open to the way you swallow when your hips meet with his, closing your eyes in pleasure at how he manages to fit inside you so perfectly. When everyone says your soulmate is made specifically for you, they really do mean in every way possible.
You sit like that for a moment, before opening your eyes and looking at your lover. He helps you move your hips up and back down, you let out a gsap at the sparks that fly up your spine. Your hips start to move in unison, yours grinding down and his moving up to meet yours in a steady rhythm, like a dance to music only you two can hear.
Your nails hurt when they move over his shoulders and chest, leaving temporary marks, but Donghyuck doesn’t mind. Actually, he loves it when you tug on his hair and scratch up his back, his whines turning into full out groans when you lean in and attach your lips to the side of his neck, pressing hot kisses down to his collarbone and biting down gently in the same place this whole situation started.
“H-Hyuck, I—” Before you know it, you’re so close to your orgasm, it’s basically right in front of you to reach out and accept.
“I know, baby, I know. You can come, I got you.” He answers back messily, using the last of his energy to keep your hips in place and drive himself into you. You let out a shriek at the sudden pleasure, only a few more deep thrusts into your hole and you’re falling over him as your orgasm spreads to every crevice of your body.
Donghyuck loves the way your muscles seize and flutter around him, making him pant and his thrusts become sloppy as he comes as well, his warm seed filling you up as he rides through his high. You both fall into the mattress below, you on top of Donghyuck, too tired to roll over and opting to just rest on his sweaty chest.
“I think that was way better than sleeping.” He says, his chest rumbling underneath you as he speaks.
“What a good way to tire ourselves out.” You yawn.
In the last few moments before your tired bodies fall asleep, you find Donghyuck’s hand and intertwine your fingers together, happily and contently falling asleep with the fresh air coming through the window and the sunlight now fully streaming into the room.
In the late summer before your and Donghyuck’s last year of university, you attend a wedding. Not just any wedding: Yuqi and Lucas’ wedding.
Although the ceremony is held outside, there’s a nice breeze that keeps the guests from getting too hot and sweaty in the summer sun. The whole wedding is held in a botanical garden and the place is decorated in white and purple, lilacs and daisies filling vases everywhere you go and freshening the air with their scent.
You and Donghyuck walk into the room inside the administrative building that’s designated for the bride. Yuqi is there, her face shining brightly with happiness and a glow that can’t be stolen from her today.
When you walk in, you let out a sound of delight at how pretty your college friend looks in her wedding dress, taking note of the chamomile flowers that adorn her hairpiece.
“Ah, I can’t believe you’re here.” She all but shrieks, embracing you tightly with her small bouquet still in her hands. After she gives Donghyuck a small, welcoming hug, she backs away to look at both of you.
“You look amazing today, I can’t believe you’re actually getting married. Congratulations.” You say sincerely.
“I can’t believe it either, actually. I feel like we’ve been planning this for forever, and now the day is finally here.” She recalls, a blissful look in her eyes even though you’re aware of how much stress she has had during the past few months over this one day.
“Are you nervous?” Donghyuck asks and you nudge his side and send him a look for asking a question like that.
“No, I’m not,” Yuqi laughs, “I feel one hundred percent happy. Like I’m starting the next part of my life with the one I love.”
“I’m glad you can spend the rest of your life with your soulmate, you’re definitely luckier than most.” You muse, and she suddenly softens her expression and takes your hand in hers, gently holding onto you.
“I’m not marrying my soulmate. I’m marrying the one I love. It just happens to be the same person.”
After bidding your farewells and good lucks, you and Donghyuck walk out of the room and head to where the ceremony will be held. He pulls out of sunglasses, propping them on the edge of his nose, and then grabbing your hand and strolling through the exhibits on the way to the ceremony grounds.
Yuqi’s words ring in your head throughout the peaceful walk, specifically how happy she looked to be marrying the one she loves. Somehow, you never thought about separating soulmate from lover; those two people have always been one in your head. You always thought that there can’t be a soulmate without a lover, and there can’t be a lover without a soulmate.
But the moment with Yuqi reminded you of the first time Donghyuck properly confessed to you, the words you can still hear floating through your head whenever your mind wanders off and thinks about him.
“I think I would’ve fallen in love with you even if we weren’t destined to be together.”
Maybe Donghyuck has been wiser than you this whole time. Not that you’d ever admit that to his face, unless you’d like to hear about it at least three times a week for the rest of your life.
Every memory— every year that has passed by with Donghyuck has only grown the idea of soulmate and lover further apart in your mind, and it took the matrimony of your close friends to realize it. You don’t think it’s a bad thing; in fact, you’re lucky that you can call your lover and your soulmate the same person.
You feel something tugging at your hand, and when you look over at your lover, he looks at you expectedly.
“Huh?” You say, dumbfounded since you’ve been in your own little world for who knows how long. Donghyuck laughs, bending over a bit at the funny, bewildered look on your face before straightening up and looking over to you again.
“I said, what colors should we do for our wedding? I personally think I look good in red, but I’m sure we can figure out something less contrasting.” He explains nonchalantly, you realize he’s kicking a random pebble around as you walk. Looking around, confused out of your mind, you turn back to him.
“Are we getting married?”
“Well, yeah,” He does something between a laugh and a scoff before leaning next to you, a serious look that permeates through the shade of his sunglasses, “You do want to marry me, right?”
Your brain is in a complete fritz. If you had a whole day to think about this you could maybe make up a sentence that resembles a sophisticated answer, but you can only shrug.
“Uh, yeah, I guess.”
“You guess?” Donghyuck stops walking, “I just asked you if you want to get married, and you reply with ‘uh, yeah, I guess.’” He mocks your tone and it makes you roll your eyes at him.
“This is the first time we’ve ever talked about this and I got nervous.” You explain, making him relax and stand in front of you with his hands leisurely resting in his pockets. “Of course, someday I would like to marry you. I guess you’re… tolerable.” Donghyuck pushes you away from him and quickly walks down the path, twice as fast as he was walking before. You laugh and follow him, running slightly to catch up.
“Excuse me, Miss, would you like to leave a wish for the happy couple?” A sudden voice stops you, making you turn back around. A man stands with a camera, looking at you expectedly.
“Uh, how?” You look from the camera and back up to him.
“I’ll take your picture. You can write a wish on it and hang it up over there.” He points to the dozens of polaroids already hung up a few feet away, random people posing in the photographs with different color writing on every picture.
“Let’s do it.” Donghyuck comes up behind you, no doubt catching the last part of what the photographer said and pushing you lightly over to where there’s better lighting while taking off his sunglasses and tucking them into his shirt. The photographer asks you to pose, and you and Donghyuck smile for the camera, your eyes slightly shut due to the sun beating down on top of you.
“Great, how about one more for yourselves?” The photographer asks as he waits for the photograph to develop and you agree. This time, Donghyuck wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer so that your back is against his chest. You feel him rest his cheek on your head and drape his other arm around your front. You grab onto his forearm, not knowing what to do with your hands, and then suddenly the picture is taken and the photographer hands over both of the developed photos.
You take the second picture out of Donghyuck’s hands, not being able to look away. The sun seems to hit both of you just right, and the slight candidness of the photo adds another layer of reality to the picture. Donghyuck has a small smile while his cheek is slightly squished against your head, but he still looks as handsome as ever.
“What wish should we leave them?” He asks, picking up a golden sharpie from the table nearby, somehow already having his sunglasses back on.
“Maybe just… Congratulations on getting married?” You suggest.
“And a million other people will have the same thing. We need to be memorable.” He stresses and taps the end of the sharpie against his head. “What do you wish for Lucas and Yuqi?”
“I wish…” You think about it for a moment, “For them to have a lifetime of memories that they can share until the very end.” You nod.
“Oh?” Donghyuck looks at you, “When did you become a poet?” He asks as he writes that down at the bottom of the first picture.
“I’ve always been like this. I’m glad you just now figured it out.” You reply sarcastically, to which Donghyuck replies back with his own sarcastic laugh. He hangs up your picture close to where Mark and Xiaojun hung up their’s, and then turns back around.
“Alright, let’s get this show on the road.” He pushes up his sunglasses with his ring finger and thumb, walking with swagger towards the ceremony and grabbing your hand while he’s passing by.
“If you’re going to be like this at our wedding, maybe I’ll have to change my mind…”
For one today being one of the most awaited days of your life, it started out pretty regularly.
You wake up from the ringing of your alarm, get ready, and go to your classes for the day. You had breakfast before you left, and lunch right before your last class of the day. Even work was boring as usual, but nothing beat going to the store afterwards.
When you got to the aisle filled with shoes, you were first puzzled by how many options there are. So many colors and styles, you didn’t expect to be so overwhelmed and accidentally spent almost an hour just looking at every individual pair. This had to be perfect. This was going to be a memory that you thought about for the rest of your life.
You call Donghyuck when you approach your front door, he answers almost immediately.
“Hey, love, what’s up?” He yawns through the words, and you can’t help but smile as you look down at the bag in your hands.
“Oh, I was just wondering when you’ll be home.” You open the front door and shut it behind you, taking off your shoes.
“I’m right outside of our building. Did you just get home?” He asks, no doubt hearing the front door from your side of the line.
“I’ll talk to you when you get up here then, see you.” You send a kiss through the phone and abruptly end the call. If Donghyuck is right outside of the building he’ll be up to your apartment in just a few minutes.
You drop the rest of your things down at the front door and hurry into the kitchen, setting down the small white bag with a lace bow on top in the middle of the kitchen table, clearing the table of anything else. You slide into a seat at the table, fixing your clothes nervously as you hear the front door open. Not even a few seconds later, Donghyuck walks into the kitchen, his eyes moving from you to the white bag and back to you.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, dead serious. Your nerves and anxiety, and maybe even some fear, must be strong enough for him to feel. You shake your head and pat the chair next to you. Donghyuck takes a seat, he came through the door so quickly that he didn’t even take his shoes or his jacket off yet.
“Open the bag.” You can’t help the excited smile and small clap of your hands as he reaches out and holds the bag. He gives you a quizzical look, but you only nod to encourage him.
Donghyuck unties the lace ribbon, looking down into the bag for a few moments. You can’t read his face and you can’t feel any emotions from him, and your anxiety grows tenfold. He reaches in and pulls out the little shoes, a light blue color with white stitching. They’re so small, they can sit in Donghuck’s hand perfectly.
“What are these?” He asks, still looking at the shoes in his hand.
“Well, they’re shoes… For babies. For our baby.”
At your reply, he does nothing. He doesn’t react at all, which only worsens your nerves and makes your leg twitch up and down as you wait for him to say something. He swallows and sets the shoes on the table, still looking at then with a blank expression.
“You’re pregnant?”
“Yeah…” You reply, reaching out to put a hand over Donghyuck’s, “Say something.”
“I’m not sure what to say, this is very… sudden.” He tilts his head. Your stomach drops at the lack of emotion in his voice. You aren’t sure what you were expecting, but it was not this stoic expression in his face. Whatever traces of a smile that you had on your lips vanishes and you grip his hand tighter.
“I know this is not what we had planned. I know this is kind of… not good timing, since we’re still in school and not married, yet. But this is what fate had planned for us, I guess?” You’re not sure if you’re trying to console him or convince him, but the icky feeling in your stomach tells you Donghyuck’s reaction to the situation is not good.
“Yeah, fate did us real good.” Donghyuck replies sarcastically and you drop your hands from his, resting them in your lap. You can see the tears forming in his eyes even when he tries to look away from you, and you can feel the fear that’s boiling and overflowing inside him.
“I know you’re scared, I’m scared too. But we can get through this to—” You’re suddenly cut off by Donghyuck standing up abruptly.
“I’m not scared. I’m worried.” He rubs his face with his hands. “I’m worried that I won’t be able to support this kid. I’m worried I won’t be able to be here for you through it all. I’m so worried I’m going to end up like my father that I feel like it’s going to eat me alive.” He runs his hands through his hair, pulling his head back as he looks at the ceiling and paces around the kitchen.
“I never knew your father, but from what you told me, you’re nothing like him.” You stand up too, your legs feeling like jello.
“No, you don’t understand. What if I say something wrong and ruin this kid’s life like my father did to me? What if I can’t find a job after we graduate? Are you going to support all three of us? I can’t let you live like my mom did, it was too hard to watch back then and it’ll be even harder to watch now.” He suddenly stops, not giving you a chance to speak as he looks from you, to the little shoes, and back to you. “I can’t.”
“You… can’t what?” There’s panic rising in your voice as he shakes his head and backs away.
“I can’t be here, not around you or this baby. I won’t be a good father.” He turns and walks out of the kitchen, leaving you standing dumbfounded with tears brimming in your eyes. You move to the front door, watching at Donghyuck’s shaking hands pick up his keys and wallet.
“Are you leaving me? Right now?” He doesn’t look at you and he doesn’t answer, opening the door, “Wait!” You cry out. He stops, his shoulders tense and his hand clenching the doorknob.
“What about that promise you made me? Huh? You said that it’s not just a ‘you’ or a ‘me’ now. It’s an ‘us.’ You said you’ll do everything you can to not hurt us.” You ask, recalling the promise Donghyuck made back when you two were young college students, and a promise he has repeated and vowed to you over and over again every time your relationship got into a rough patch.
“I think… that what I’m doing is what’s best for us. It’ll be better if I wasn’t here. ___...” He looks back at your teary eyed figure with one last look of regret, “I love you. I’m so sorry.” And with that, he closes the door, leaving you all alone in your cold and dark apartment.
You jumped off of the bridge. You jumped off a while ago, actually, but the fall took longer than you expected. You thought Donghyuck would be there to catch you at the bottom, but he’s nowhere to be seen now. The fall was peaceful and enjoyable, a soft limbo between making the hardest decision in your life and the ultimate consequence of that decision. The fall was long and made you feel faux comfort, so when you reached the very end, it ended up hurting a lot worse. You knew jumping off of a bridge would kill you, so why did you jump?
You’re not sure how long you stand by the front door, but it’s long enough that the sun sets outside and the room turns dark. You stare at the door, waiting for Donghyuck to come back. You wait for the door to open and for him to run through, hugging you and whispering that he’ll be here for you. You can only walk up to the door and slide down onto your knees, your forehead pressed against the cool wood as you wait.
Tears run down your cheeks silently, your eyes red and your head hurts. You keep your forehead pressed against the door for the whole night, waiting for him to come back. You wait, and wait, and wait. Donghyuck never comes back.
Your heart rips open from pain, it feels like it’s bleeding onto the floor in front of you. Your mind is numb from any other emotion, your body is cold from sitting on the floor, but you can’t get yourself to stand up. That’s when you realize, this is it. This is how Donghyuck hurts you.
What a sick and twisted way for fate to finally serve up her plan. You almost forgot who Donghyuck is supposed to be; the one who loves you, and the one who hurts you the most.
— read epilogue here
#haechan#haechan fluff#nct dream au#nct smut#nct dream smut#haechan smut#nct fluff#nct dream fluff#haechan au#nct au#haechan x reader#nct dream#nct#haechan scenarios#haechan imagines#haechan blurbs#haechan fic#nct scenario#nct imagine#nct blurbs#nct fics#nct dream imagines#nct dream scenarios#nct dream blurbs#nct dream fic#00 line#dreamies
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Sugar, Spice, and a Heart to Entice
AKA: Jango Fett speedruns a romance with someone who should be his enemy. (It's okay. We know he makes bad choices.)
Note: Ahsoka uses the pseudonym "Ashla" in this fic. Warnings: slavery, references to drug use, crude sex jokes, undressing of an unconscious person (for medical reasons)
----
The girl that they shove into the chains next to him is... worrying.
(Well, probably a girl--he'll adjust later if it turns out he's wrong.)
She's not that much younger than him, he thinks. It's hard to tell, with the way her skin is taut over muscle and bone, too little water and too little sleep, and probably not enough food for whatever labor she's been doing. He's also, admittedly, not great at gauging ages in the first place, and certainly not for Togruta. Still, he thinks it's safe to say that they're close in age, and that she's probably younger than him.
She's lucky, by some measure. The spice ship is terrible, but it's probably better than the fate tog girls are usually subject to in this industry. They're hazardous conditions, and violent ones, but Jango's yet to see a slave here stripped of their clothing for anything other than a whipping.
He thinks it's probably a matter of money. That kind of violation lowers the profit margins, he imagines. Spice is more lucrative than anything, and pain is a better motivator than... well.
So she's lucky, by that measure, and that measure alone.
They clap her in bindings before he even sees her, even though she's unconscious, and bring her sometime in the night cycle. Jango doesn't have a lot of pity left in him, but some goes out to her. He won't say she's too young for this, because nobody is ever old enough for slavery, nor do slavers have any compunctions about selling babes in arms, but Jango would wager she's already led a hard life.
She's fairly covered, but what little is visible shows enough old battle wounds that he can't imagine she's stayed off of battlefields. He knows how to read a Togruta's markings for stress history, too, and hers tell a story. Her facial marks are thin and delicate, and he'd say they're certainly more complex than the average; the striation on her lekku and montrals is thin and jagged, like marble. It's pretty enough, but it's also a sign of the fact that her life has likely been anything but easy. Some of it might be genetics, and he hopes it is, but with the scars he can see... he doubts it's much.
"Keep that one alive," the overseer orders, eyes on Jango and hand gesturing at the tog girl.
He leaves.
Jango isn't sure what they're hoping to get out of putting her with him. The room is built for four, yes, but they usually don't try to have anyone share with Jango. Maybe they ran out of room, or just assumed Jango was the most likely to know field medicine, or just figured there wouldn't be any trouble until she woke.
As he gets closer, his confusion grows. The tog's got burns all over, ugly ones that aren't going to heal cleanly without bacta. They're going to get infected, as likely as not. He hasn't got much besides water in here, but the overseer's left behind a box of what looks like bandages. If he's lucky, there's burn cream in there.
(He's not lucky.)
He works slowly, careful of every movement. He builds up a story in his head as he does, based on the wounds he finds and what he starts to notice of the clothing. He can't see all the details, not in what little light he has, but there's plenty to notice.
He hadn't realized, with how dim it is, but most of what she's got on as an outer layer is hardened leather, real leather, not synth. There are attachment points for armor at the shoulders and hips, and he thinks he sees signs of wear for vambraces and greaves. She's no Mando'verde, not with how he can see that the fabric at her torso and upper legs is intended to stay light and flexible and uncovered, but the crafting of the leather layers is familiar. He thinks she might have contacts among Mando armorers.
She might even wear beskar, if she's impressed the right person.
The wounds are recent, and unfamiliar, and he thinks she was probably fought into chains, rather than bought in them. She's a captive, not a purchase, or maybe... maybe they just found an unconscious woman, and decided that she was worth keeping.
He thinks she lost a fight, or won but with great injuries, and just... stumbled off and collapsed. He gets the feeling no one on board the ship could have fought this woman, except for himself. It's not based on much, not until he can see her move, but he's got good instincts for that sort of thing.
Jango keeps his assessment of her torso quick and clinical, not even bothering to mentally apologize for stripping her bare. This is medical, and he's not a doctor, not even a field medic, but he's professional nonetheless. Even though there's nothing in the box but bandages, not even the burn cream he'd hoped for, he'd still rather know if there's a broken rib to worry about. He doesn't want to wait for her to wake up and then find out she's got a punctured lung, even if he can't do anything about it. He finds bruising, but... he thinks that if anything is broken, it's hairline at most.
Lucky, he thinks again, in the unluckiest situations.
She doesn't wake that cycle. It's all he can do to get some water in her, dripped into her mouth in a trickle, but it's something.
----
When the Togruta girl wakes up, it's sudden. Jango is wiping down her lekku with a wet cloth in hopes of staving off a fever, kneeling next to the bunk. She opens her eyes, stiffens with a sharp breath, and then twists off the bed. Before he's fully processed this, her legs are up and around his neck, and then he's being wrenched to the side and onto the filthy ground, cheek grinding down into the grit. He feels a bony knee press into his spine, and the growl of a predator.
"Where am I?" the tog girl demands.
"Spice ship," he says, and oh but this place has ruined him for fights; he's having trouble breathing from whatever she's done to him, and she doesn't even have the use of her hands. "Deep space. You're in the slave cells. Don't mess with the collar, it'll explode if you try to remove it."
"Spice refinery?" she repeats, sounding completely baffled. He gives her a second to process, but she blindsides him. "Someone got me in their hands and they went for spice slavery?"
"As opposed to..." he really hopes she gets off soon.
She doesn't answer him immediately, and he can't get a look at her face. He gets his arms out to the sides, plants them to the floor, and shoves back. She doesn't fall off, but she does slide to the side to sit on the floor.
The expression she's got is best described as 'shell-shocked,' he thinks.
"You don't know me," she says, faint and confused. He shakes his head; he's pretty sure he'd have recognized her if he'd known her at all, given the time he's spent cleaning her wounds and trying to keep her alive. She laughs, breathless and a tad hysterical. "You don't--fuck. You don't know me. That's... great. Okay. Okay, I can work with that. Don't know how they missed it, but okay."
"Bounty on your head?" he guesses.
She smiles, thin and unpleasant. "Something like that."
"Thought as much. You're built like a fighter." He intends it as a compliment, but he doesn't think she takes it as one.
"I've never had a choice otherwise," she says, and when she next looks around, it's to find a place to sit. She pushes herself up to the thin mattress of the cot behind her, and Jango mirrors her on the cot across the room. It's not his bed, technically, but it's not like there's anyone to complain. She frowns at him; it's not a rude look, he thinks, but an attempt to put something unfamiliar in place. "What legion were you with?"
He blinks at her. He's been part of an army, but never one that big. "Legion?"
"Were you with special forces?" she tries again. "Or--wait, did you even get off Kamino before--"
"I'm not whoever you think I am," he tells her. "None of that means anything to me. I know what a legion is, but I've never had reason to be part of one."
"But you're..." she trails off, brow furrowed. "I guess just a similar face, then."
"To who?"
"The clones?" she hazards, as if that clears anything at all up. "I have no idea where we are; maybe the war holos never made it out far enough for you to know what they looked like..."
"Which war?" he asks, because he feels like he'd probably have heard of a war that used clones, especially one that had enough holos spread around for this woman to expect him to know what the clones in question look like.
"The... the clone war," she says hesitantly. "With the Separatists?"
None of that means anything to him.
It must show in his face, because her brow furrows, and her eyes go wide in a way he doesn't like. He can't tell if her skin's losing color or anything, but he's pretty sure the curl at the tip of one lek is a sign of anxiety. He's not sure how to help, but part of him already decided he liked this woman, just on the suspicion that she was friendly to Mandalorians.
(It's been a solid year and a half since Jango has had anything approaching a friend. He may be, subconsciously, a little desperate.)
"What's your name?" she asks, voice pitching in discomfort, and tight as a garotte.
"Jango Fett."
She closes her eyes, clenches her jaw, and... he can't see, can't know if she's trembling, but he thinks she is. She lets her head fall back against the wall, and breathes in sharply. It's a shaky breath, and he doesn't like that much, either.
"Fuck," she repeats. "No wonder--fuck."
He gives her a few seconds, but she doesn't elaborate. He asks another question instead. "Do I get to know your name?"
Her eyes crack open, and then she sits up straight and looks him over. Her lips purse, and she comes to some decision, though he's at a loss for what. "Call me Ashla. She/her, if you'd rather stick to Basic."
Fake name. Alright. She mentioned a bounty, so it's probably about that.
"Well met, Ashla."
She laughs, empty and painful. She swears in a mix of Huttese and Mando'a, and a few languages he doesn't even recognize. The Core accent on her Mando'a is strong, but he thinks whoever taught her might have been from Concord Dawn.
"How old are you, if you don't--"
"I'm twenty-one," she says. He was right; she's only two years younger than him. "At least... fuck, okay. What's the date?"
He tells her, and she screws up her brow and mouths something to herself. He's not entirely sure what.
"How long ago was..." she trails off.
"Was what?"
She presses a hand over her eyes. "I don't know what year it is."
Ah. Well, he can help with that much. He tells her that, too.
Ashla drops her hand. She visibly mulls it over, eyes on the underside of the bunk above her. He has no idea what she's thinking.
"Why aren't there other people in this room?"
"Weak ones couldn't sleep because I'm 'too intimidating,' and the rest kept trying to throw their weight around." He shrugs at the look she points his way. "I'm not dumb enough to start a fight with a bomb around my neck, but I'm not letting someone knock me around so they can earn a reputation."
She purses her lips, but lets it lie. "You let me take you down, then?"
"You had the advantage of surprise," he says, and doesn't bother to list every other advantage. She's better fed than he is, has spent less time in spice-suffused air, was unconscious and resting while he was awake to keep an eye on her fever. He's got the feeling she already knows.
When she speaks again, it's low and in fluent Mando'a, heavily accented though it may be.
"You'd get out of here eventually," she tells him, eyes half shut. "But you'll get out faster with my help, Mand'alor."
His stomach twists.
----
"They are either very stupid, or very cheap," Ashla mutters a day later, when he's supposedly helping her change some bandages. It gives him the excuse of leaning in close.
"Probably the former," he says.
She grins, and then stiffens and hisses out a low breath as he pours some of the stolen whiskey over one of the burns. It's not a real disinfectant, but it's the best they've got at the moment. Jango still isn't sure how she managed to get it from the overseers without them noticing, but he's quickly gotten the gist that she's a fair shot sneakier than he is.
"What did they do?" he asks, and she huffs out a laugh.
"I need you to promise you won't try to kill me," she says, and he stills.
She seems to be waiting on his response. Great. "That's not an auspicious start, Ashla."
"Eh, I've survived more than my fair share of people trying to kill me. No offense, bro, but I could take you," she says.
She's probably right in their current circumstances. "Let's hear it."
"I left the Jedi Order when I was seventeen."
The whiskey bottle slips from his fingers.
An invisible hand catches it, and it settles quietly on the floor of their cell. No guards will come running. It's a damning sight, for him.
A Jedi.
A Jedi who--who left.
Jedi committed Galidraan, but she left three years before that, but she was--was--
She has her back to him, trusting.
Or just arrogant.
She phrased it that way on purpose, phrased it so he'd know she left before he--before--
"I was framed by my friend for a terrorist attack," she says, and he can't find his voice to tell her to stop talking. "And sentenced to death by a non-Jedi military tribunal for it. By the time they figured out I wasn't guilty, I'd already been kicked out."
He forces his hands to his knees, grips at the bones that are too close to the skin, and orders himself to breathe.
Ashla turns on the spot, blinks at him. "I'm telling you this because it's how we're going to get out."
"Your people killed mine."
"I wasn't a Jedi when Galidraan happened," she says. There's more she wants to say, he's sure, but she keeps the words locked behind her teeth. That might be a good thing.
"And I'm just supposed to trust you?"
"Only for long enough to get out of here," she tells him. She shrugs, easy as anything. She's done this before, maybe. "Trust me, I have plenty of reasons to hate you, too, but I'm a little more concerned about getting this ship taken into custody, and having all the slaves freed."
"And you can just... make that happen."
"I told you, they're either stupid or skint," she says, with that same disarming grin. "I had lightsabers on me, and they kept them on the ship. They haven't drugged me since I woke up. They put me in normal cuffs, Jango."
He hates the way his name sounds on her tongue.
He hates the fact that he sees her plan already.
"You don't even need me," he points out, resisting the urge to try to kill her here and now. He doesn't have his armor. He doesn't have weapons. He's good, but she's got the Force and thighs that can crush a bantha skull.
"I'm not exactly... legit," she admits with a grimace. "Once you're back in Mandalorian space, you at least have an identity. People that will give you a place to stay. A chain code."
"And you don't."
She smiles, brittle. "Give me a week to scope out what I need and get us out of here, and maybe I'll explain."
A week. Fine.
And once they're out of here, and he has a blaster and a meal and a good night's sleep, he'll handle her.
----
He hates the fact that he likes her, still. People had already noticed, even just one day in. The first time someone notices he's giving Ashla the cold shoulder in the workroom, they joke at him about her not putting out. He's known her one day, and they think--
He stops the thought in its tracks.
Jango doesn't start fights here, but he is tempted.
"Oh, he wouldn't dare," Ashla simpers, sweet as spun sugar. "I bite."
She smiles, every pearly white tooth on display. The fangs near glint in the light. She eyes the speaker, squeezes the tool in her hand. Her tendons strain, but the metal bends with a creak.
The overseer shouts for them to get back to work.
Jango steps closer to her, lets his elbows brush against hers, and glares off anyone that tries to get too close.
"I don't need protection," she mutters to him from the corner of her mouth.
"I keep my word," he replies, hating himself for it.
He said he'd have her back. He may hate what she is, but... she left the Order. She's not a Jedi anymore. If he thinks it enough, he can believe it.
----
There's always a camaraderie in shared suffering. Jango is aware of this, and he feels his fondness for Ashla grow against his better judgment. They're both slaves on a spice ship, and he can't change that. It makes him tolerate her more than he sensibly should.
She acts like a Mando soldier, sometimes. She's not at all like Haat Mando'ade, but she knows some of the jokes that Mandalorians grow up with. She walks like a woman used to beskar'gam. She knows a drinking song or two.
(They don't waste the whiskey. It's for injuries, not intoxication.)
"I had brothers, once," she tells him, late at night. "A lot of them. They had a Mandalorian parent, sort of, but he'd never seen fit to really... let them have the culture. I lost them all, mostly to slave chips, and a few to just normal deaths, but... I learned what I could about Mandalore, after, for their sake. In their memory."
It's not a terrible reason, he thinks.
"Irony for you to end up in chains, then," he mumbles, and she barks out a sharp laugh.
"Tradition, more like," she says, and explains before he can ask for her to keep talking. "My... teacher was born a slave, and I... have a suspicion he ended up back in chains after we lost contact. His teacher was enslaved at least twice that I know of."
"Shitty tradition," he says, because there's nothing else he can think of.
"Could be worse," she tells him. This time, she doesn't elaborate.
----
He likes her more than he should.
----
He likes her so, so, so much more than he should.
----
She steals datachips when nobody's looking, using the Force instead of her fingers. She wraps dismissal around her like a cloak to access computer terminals without anyone but Jango noticing. She slips spice into the drinks held by guards and overseers.
She moves through the ship like smoke, in the dim lights of the false night.
Someone notices. Someone always notices, in Jango's experience, but they have no idea who's doing it. They lock down the cells for the sleep cycle, turn down the temperature, leave all the slaves shivering in their beds.
He pulls Ashla into his cot without hesitation, fits their bodies together to conserve heat, and ignores the rest. They're both soldiers; there's no shame in survival for those like them. The lekku at her back drapes over his neck like a scarf, and he almost wants to laugh.
He's pathetic. His men would be so damn disappointed in him, sharing bunk with a Jedi.
"You're thinking too loud," she mumbles, shifting somehow closer. The chill clings, creeping in through the thin clothes and thinner blanket, but he feels like it's bearable with Ashla here.
----
When they enact the plan, it's so much quieter than Jango would have run it. Ashla holds his hands in the early morning, before anyone is awake, and smiles. When she closes her eyes, sinking into a light meditation, the collar around her neck just... comes apart. Nuts and bolts and curves of metal float about her like a wretched parody of the mobile hanging above an infant's crib, and then land quietly on the nearest cot. When she opens her eyes, hazy and distant, she looks at his throat, and frees him with a thought.
It's a heady thing, freedom.
"Come along, Fett," she goads, almost crooning the words, backing out of the cell with his hands in hers. Nobody is awake yet, or at least they shouldn't be. Her words curl in the air like something cloyingly too-sweet, and he's sure it's her way of trying to piss him off. It's only working a little. "We've work to do."
Said work involves slipping past guards with a Jedi's timing, commanding them to sleep with a whisper and a poke to the forehead, and drugging the ones that she claims are resistant to Jedi tricks. The work is, as such, mostly hers to do. They hide the bodies, but the alarm goes off by the time they get to the weapons locker.
That's fine, because the weapons locker is where they were headed.
"Oh, hell yes," she hisses through a grit-tooth grin, and a matched pair of lightsabers float to her. Jango turns off the energy field by the time they reach her, and she hooks them onto her belt. Beskar plating follows, exactly the pieces that Jango had guessed from wear and tear. It's real beskar, too, not even an alloy, and Jango doesn't ask the questions on the tip of his tongue. She straps it on in practiced movements, without hesitation and almost without thought.
"See anything better than what you got off the guards?" she asks him. "Or did they all take the best blasters for themselves?"
"The latter," he says.
(His eyes trace over the armor she wears, and while she does wear it well... he's jealous.)
(He misses his armor.)
(Envy is unbecoming of anyone, but he thinks he can be afforded a little leeway.)
There are people in the hall by the time they exit, a dozen blasters at the ready.
The people in the hall are... not a problem.
Ashla had called it the Sword and Shield maneuver, when walking him through her experiences working in a Mando/Jetii team. He'd laughed, because the saber was the shield. She'd smiled at him, and he'd cursed himself for it.
If he'd had his armor, they'd have been able to move forward as a pair of unstoppable monsters. As it stands, they're... still doing that, really, just a tad slower.
"You're a Jedi!" one of them shouts. "You're supposed to be diplomats! You're not supposed to kill!"
Jango could laugh at that horrible, horrible lie.
"I am no Jedi," Ashla says, and the words cut through the air like something she's said a million times, and will say a million more.
Jango could do a lot with that line, tucked away in his memories for later.
There's a moment, though, where they're stuck at one end of a hallway, and the door to the bridge is just on the other side, and Ashla grins at him, a challenge in every inch of her body, and asks, "You wanna see something cool?"
He can't help it.
"You planning to show off, Jedi?" He can say the word without flinching, and it's... absurd. It's absurd. What in all the hells is she doing to him?
(He's been told that war makes for strange bedfellows, but he's long known that trauma does the same.)
He takes cover when she moves, and oh, does she move.
Ashla's a whirlwind, dangerous as anything and beautiful in her careful, precise violence. She knocks people out, more often than not, but there's more then one dead body left in her wake. It appeals to something in him. She flips and twists and throws people with the Force. She slices and kicks, and smacks people across the face with the blasters she lifts of their comrades. She headbutts at least two people, and then jumps to bounce off the ceiling and back down so she can land feet first on an enemy.
He hopes he'll get his common sense back when he's had time to put himself together, because the sight of those sabers doesn't make him flinch. After all he's been through, after all his nightmares, it really should. The sound alone should have him shivery and shooting.
Maybe there's just too much spice in the air.
A head drops to the floor in a different direction from the body it had previously been attached to. Jango's throat goes dry in response.
When Ashla stands at the end of the hall, a saber in each hand and the floor behind her littered in both bodies breathing and bodies bereft of life, she looks back at him over her shoulder. She deactivates her swords, and smirks. She's smug, and she makes smug look very, very good.
"So," she says. "Verdict?"
Fuck.
----
The bridge is easy enough to handle. They land the ship on a Republic planet, one with relevant authorities and at least some reputation for actually handling things with a degree of kindness and transparency. Ashla does the talking, letting Jango lurk behind her. She lies.
"Half-truths," she later tells him, in a low voice. The smile she wears is amused and self-assured, just a twist at the corner, and the slightest of pouts. He can't see it, when she leans in to murmur in his ear. "I certainly used to be a Jedi. They don't need to know this wasn't an officially-sanctioned infiltration."
Her breath hits lightly against his ear, and he wants--he wants--
"Have a comm code for any old friends?" Ashla asks, stepping away. Her face twists unpleasantly. Frustration, he's sure. "I've got credits, but no contacts."
He eyes the little pack she's got around her waist. "Stole that from the slavers?"
"We'll consider it payment for services rendered," she tells him, with an impish grin Jango wants to kiss off of her face, because apparently he's kriffing suicidal and wants to bed a Jedi. "I'll give you most of it, if you want. Call it the two years of backpay they owed you."
He snorts before he can stop himself. "Just one year, sorry."
"Oh, it's hazard pay," she insists, blinking innocently. "Dangerous conditions having been what they were, of course."
She presses a comm--probably also stolen--and a few credits into his hand, then loops her arm through his. She sets off at a lazy walk, ignoring the people who stare at them with distaste and disgust. "We'll find a hotel. We'll shower, with real water, and fancy soaps, and a little sonic just for the clothes. I'll run out and get you a basic outfit, and then we can go shopping, and once that's done, and you've had a chance to comm a companion, we can reunite you with your buddies, and you can go hunting for your armor, and I'll split and--"
"Stay."
She tilts her head at him, though she doesn't stop walking, and he feels his face burn. He hopes it's not visible. She hums lowly. He can't learn anything from it. "You hate Jedi, though, and I might not really be one anymore, but I'm still more Jedi than not."
"You wear beskar and speak Mando'a," he says. "You helped the Mand'alor. You're halfway to being one of mine already."
"One of yours, huh?" she mutters, eyes somewhere distant. He doesn't know what it is that she's seeing, but he's gotten used to it. "Alright, let's have this conversation again after you've had some sleep and clothes and a good meal, yeah?"
He can take that compromise.
----
"What do you mean, you're from the future?!"
#Jangosoka#time travel#Jango Fett#Ahsoka Tano#slavery tw#drugs tw#Phoenix Posts#I wrote this on a whim a few days ago but didn't get it edited until today#anyway have a nonsense
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Underground, Part 1
[Author’s Note: A year ago, when waiting for the DC Metro, I came up with an idea for a short story involving two realtors and the infamous Las Vegas Underground House, typed up an outline, and shoved it away in my documents where it sat neglected until this month. The house recently resurfaced on Twitter, and combined with almost a year of quarantine, the story quickly materialized. Though I rarely write fiction, I decided I’d give it a shot as a kind of novelty McMansion Hell post. I’ve peppered the story with photos from the house to break up the walls of text. Hopefully you find it entertaining. I look forward to returning next month with the second installment of this as well as our regularly scheduled McMansion content. Happy New Year!
Warning: there’s lots of swearing in this.]
Underground
Back in 1997, Mathieu Rino, the son of two Finnish mechanical engineers who may or may not have worked intimately with the US State Department, changed his name to Jay Renault in order to sell more houses. It worked wonders.
He gets out of the car, shuts the door harder than he should. Renault wrinkles his nose. It’s a miserable Las Vegas afternoon - a sizzling, dry heat pools in ripples above the asphalt. The desert is a place that is full of interesting and diverse forms of life, but Jay’s the kind of American who sees it all as empty square-footage. He frowns at the dirt dusting up his alligator-skin loafers but then remembers that every lot, after all, has potential. Renault wipes the sweat from his leathery face, slicks back his stringy blond hair and adjusts the aviators on the bridge of his nose. The Breitling diving watch crowding his wrist looks especially big in the afternoon glare. He glances at it.
“Shit,” he says. The door on the other side of the car closes, as though in response.
If Jay Renault is the consummate rich, out-of-touch Gen-Xer trying to sell houses to other rich, out-of-touch Gen-Xers, then Robert Little is his millennial counterpart. Both are very good at their jobs. Robert adjusts his tie in the reflection of the Porsche window, purses his lips. He’s Vegas-showman attractive, with dark hair, a decent tan, and a too-bright smile - the kind of attractive that ruins marriages but makes for an excellent divorcee. Mildly sleazy.
“Help me with these platters, will you?” Renault gestures, popping the trunk. Robert does not want to sweat too much before an open house, but he obliges anyway. They’re both wearing suits. The heat is unbearable. A spread of charcuterie in one hand, Jay double-checks his pockets for the house keys, presses the button that locks his car.
Both men sigh, and their eyes slowly trail up to the little stucco house sitting smack dab in the center of an enormous lot, a sea of gravel punctuated by a few sickly palms. The house has the distinct appearance of being made of cardboard, ticky-tacky, a show prop. Burnt orange awnings don its narrow windows, which somehow makes it look even more fake.
“Here we go again,” Jay mutters, fishing the keys out of his pocket. He jiggles them until the splintered plywood door opens with a croak, revealing a dark and drab interior – dusty, even though the cleaners were here yesterday. Robert kicks the door shut with his foot behind him.
“Christ,” he swears, eyes trailing over the terrible ecru sponge paint adorning the walls. “This shit is so bleak.”
The surface-level house is mostly empty. There’s nothing for them to see or attend to there, and so the men step through a narrow hallway at the end of which is an elevator. They could take the stairs, but don’t want to risk it with the platters. After all, they were quite expensive. Renault elbows the button and the doors part.
“Let’s just get this over with,” he says as they step inside. The fluorescent lights above them buzz something awful. A cheery metal sign welcomes them to “Tex’s Hideaway.” Beneath it is an eldritch image of a cave, foreboding. Robert’s stomach’s in knots. Ever since the company assigned him to this property, he’s been terrified of it. He tells himself that the house is, in fact, creepy, that it is completely normal for him to be ill at ease. The elevator’s ding is harsh and mechanical. They step out. Jay flips a switch and the basement is flooded with eerie light.
It’s famous, this house - The Las Vegas Underground House. The two realtors refer to it simply as “the bunker.” Built by an eccentric millionaire at the height of Cold War hysteria, it’s six-thousand square feet of paranoid, aspirational fantasy. The first thing anyone notices is the carpet – too-green, meant to resemble grass, sprawling out lawn-like, bookmarked by fake trees, each a front for a steel beam. Nothing can grow here. It imitates life, unable to sustain it. The leaves of the ficuses seem particularly plastic.
Bistro sets scatter the ‘yard’ (if one can call it that), and there’s plenty of outdoor activities – a parquet dance floor complete with pole and disco ball, a putt putt course, an outdoor grill made to look like it’s nestled in a rock, but in reality better resembles a baked potato. The pool and hot tub, both sculpted in concrete and fiberglass mimicking a natural rock formation, are less Playboy grotto and more Fred Flintstone. It’s a very seventies idea of fun.
Then, of course, there’s the house. That fucking house.
A house built underground in 1978 was always meant to be a mansard – the mansard roof was a historical inevitability. The only other option was International Style modernism, but the millionaire and his wife were red-blooded anti-Communists. Hence, the mansard. Robert thinks the house looks like a fast-food restaurant. Jay thinks it looks like a lawn and tennis club he once attended as a child where he took badminton lessons from a swarthy Czech man named Jan. It’s drab and squat, made more open by big floor-to-ceiling windows nestled under fresh-looking cedar shingles. There’s no weather down here to shrivel them up.
“Shall we?” Jay drawls. The two make their way into the kitchen and set the platters down on the white tile countertop. Robert leans up against the island, careful of the oversized hood looming over the electric stovetop. He eyes the white cabinets, accented with Barbie pink trim. The matching linoleum floor squeaks under his Italian loafers.
“I don’t understand why we bother doing this,” Robert complains. “Nobody’s seriously going to buy this shit, and the company’s out a hundred bucks for party platters.”
“It’s the same every time,” Renault agrees. “The only people who show up are Instagram kids and the crazies - you know, the same kind of freaks who’d pay money to see Chernobyl.”
“Dark tourism, they call it.”
Jay checks his watch again. Being in here makes him nervous.
“Still an hour until open house,” he mutters. “I wish we could get drunk.”
Robert exhales deeply. He also wishes he could get drunk, but still, a job’s a job.
“I guess we should check to see if everything’s good to go.”
The men head into the living room. The beamed, slanted ceiling gives it a mid-century vibe, but the staging muddles the aura. Jay remembers making the call to the staging company. “Give us your spares,” he told them, “Whatever it is you’re not gonna miss. Nobody’ll ever buy this house anyway.”
The result is eclectic – a mix of office furniture, neo-Tuscan McMansion garb, and stuffy waiting-room lamps, all scattered atop popcorn-butter shag carpeting. Hideous, Robert thinks. Then there’s the ‘entertaining’ room, which is a particular pain in the ass to them, because the carpet was so disgusting, they had to replace it with that fake wood floor just to be able to stand being in there for more than five minutes. There’s a heady stone fireplace on one wall, the kind they don’t make anymore, a hearth. Next to it, equally hedonistic, a full bar. Through some doors, a red-painted room with a pool table and paintings of girls in fedoras on the wall. It’s all so cheap, really. Jay pulls out a folded piece of paper out of his jacket pocket along with a pen. He ticks some boxes and moves on.
The dining room’s the worst to Robert. Somehow the ugly floral pattern on the curtains stretches up in bloomer-like into a frilly cornice, carried through to the wallpaper and the ceiling, inescapable, suffocating. It smells like mothballs and old fabric. The whole house smells like that.
The master bedroom’s the most normal – if anything in this house could be called normal. Mismatched art and staging furniture crowd blank walls. When someone comes into a house, Jay told Robert all those years ago, they should be able to picture themselves living in it. That’s the goal of staging.
There’s two more bedrooms. The men go through them quickly. The first isn’t so bad – claustrophobic, but acceptable – but the saccharine pink tuille wallpaper of the second gives Renault a sympathetic toothache. The pair return to the kitchen to wait.
Both men are itching to check their phones, but there’s no point – there’s no signal in here, none whatsoever. Renault, cynical to the core, thinks about marketing the house to the anti-5G people. It’s unsettlingly quiet. The two men have no choice but to entertain themselves the old-fashioned way, through small talk.
“It’s really fucked up, when you think about it,” Renault muses.
“What is?”
“The house, Bob.”
Robert hates being called Bob. He’s told Jay that hundreds of times, and yet…
“Yeah,” Robert mutters, annoyed.
“No, really. Like, imagine. You’re rich, you founded a major multinational company marketing hairbrushes to stay-at-home moms, and what do you decide to do with your money? Move to Vegas and build a fucking bunker. Like, imagine thinking the end of the world is just around the corner, forcing your poor wife to live there for ten, fifteen years, and then dying, a paranoid old man.” Renault finds the whole thing rather poetic.
“The Russkies really got to poor ol’ Henderson, didn’t they?” Robert snickers.
“The wife’s more tragic if you ask me,” Renault drawls. “The second that batshit old coot died, she called a guy to build a front house on top of this one, since she already owned the lot. Poor woman probably hadn’t seen sunlight in God knows how long.”
“Surely they had to get groceries.”
Jay frowns. Robert has no sense of drama, he thinks. Bad trait for a realtor.
“Still,” he murmurs. “It’s sad.”
“I would have gotten a divorce, if I were her,” the younger man says, as though it were obvious. It’s Jay’s turn to laugh.
“I’ve had three of those, and trust me, it’s not as easy as you think.”
“You’re seeing some new girl now, aren’t you?” Robert doesn’t really care, he just knows Jay likes to talk about himself, and talking fills the time.
“Yeah. Casino girl. Twenty-six.”
“And how old are you again?”
“None of your business.”
“Did you see the renderings I emailed to you?” Robert asks briskly, not wanting to discuss Jay’s sex life any further.
“What renderings?”
“Of this house, what it could look like.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Jay has not seen the renderings.
“If it were rezoned,” Robert continues, feeling very smart, “It could be a tourist attraction - put a nice visitor’s center on the lot, make it sleek and modern. Sell trinkets. It’s a nice parcel, close to the Strip - some clever investor could make it into a Museum of Ice Cream-type thing, you know?”
“Museum of Ice Cream?”
“In New York. It’s, not, like, educational or anything. Really, it’s just a bunch of colorful rooms where kids come to take pictures of themselves.”
“Instagram,” Jay mutters. “You know, I just sold a penthouse the other week to an Instagram influencer. Takes pictures of herself on the beach to sell face cream or some shit. Eight-point-two million dollars.”
“Jesus,” Robert whistles. “Fat commission.”
“You’re telling me. My oldest daughter turns sixteen this year. She’s getting a Mazda for Christmas.”
“You ever see that show, My Super Sweet Sixteen? On MTV? Where rich kids got, like, rappers to perform at their birthday parties? Every time at the end, some guy would pull up in, like, an Escalade with a big pink bow on it and all the kids would scream.”
“Sounds stupid,” Jay says.
“It was stupid.”
It’s Robert’s turn to check his watch, a dainty gold Rolex.
“Fuck, still thirty minutes.”
“Time really does stand still in here, doesn’t it?” Jay remarks.
“We should have left the office a little later,” Robert complains. “The charcuterie is going to get –“
A deafening sound roars through the house and a violent, explosive tremor throws both men on the ground, shakes the walls and everything between them. The power’s out for a few seconds before there’s a flicker, and light fills the room again. Two backup generators, reads Jay’s description in the listing - an appeal to the prepper demographic, which trends higher in income than non-preppers. For a moment, the only things either are conscious of are the harsh flourescent lighting and the ringing in their ears. Time slows, everything seems muted and too bright. Robert rubs the side of his face, pulls back his hand and sees blood.
“Christ,” he chokes out. “What the hell was that?”
“I don’t know,” Jay breathes, looking at his hands, trying to determine if he’s got a concussion. The results are inconclusive – everything’s slow and fuzzy, but after a moment, he thinks it might just be shock.
“It sounded like a fucking 747 just nosedived on top of us.”
“Yeah, Jesus.” Jay’s still staring at his fingers in a daze. “You okay?”
“I think so,” Robert grumbles. Jay gives him a cursory examination.
“Nothing that needs stitches,” he reports bluntly. Robert’s relieved. His face sells a lot of houses to a lot of lonely women and a few lonely men. There’s a muffled whine, which the two men soon recognize as a throng of sirens. Both of them try to calm the panic rising in their chests, to no avail.
“Whatever the fuck happened,” Jay says, trying to make light of the situation, “At least we’re in here. The bunker.”
Fear forms in the whites of Robert’s eyes.
“What if we’re stuck in here,” he whispers, afraid to speak such a thing into the world. The fear spreads to his companion.
“Try the elevator,” Jay urges, and Robert gets up, wobbles a little as his head sorts itself out, and leaves. A moment later, Jay hears him swear a blue streak, and from the kitchen window, sees him standing before the closed metal doors, staring at his feet. His pulse racing, Renault jogs out to see for himself.
“It’s dead,” Robert murmurs.
“Whatever happened,” Jay says cautiously, rubbing the back of his still-sore neck, “It must have been pretty bad. Like, I don’t think we should go up yet. Besides, surely the office knows we’re still down here.”
“Right, right,” the younger man breathes, trying to reassure himself.
“Let’s just wait it out. I’m sure everything’s fine.” The way Jay says it does not make Robert feel any better.
“Okay,” the younger man grumbles. “I’m getting a fucking drink, though.”
“Yeah, Jesus. That’s the best idea you’ve had all day.” Renault shoves his hands in his suit pocket to keep them from trembling.
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The Basement: part one
Anon request: Hi can I request an assassin!yoongi one shot where yoongi gets jealous over reader somehow even though I know he isolates her so she depends on him but maybe she somehow stumbles into a colleague of his in his living room or a friend and the friend is 👀 looking not so respectfully
A/N: Enjoy lovely. 💜💜💜 Part two
Summary: For the first time ever there is someone else in the house with you and Yoongi. How could Yoongi expect you to resist speaking with him.
Trigger warnings: Violence, intimidation, kidnapping, imprisonment, yandere themes.
Yoongi
Yandere! Yoongi
Assassin! Yoongi
It may only be a few hundred square meters, but this house is your entire world. You know every creak, every floorboard that squeaked, how each door closes, everything. So in the middle of the night when you are woken by an almighty thump, at once you could recognize how out of place it was.
Cautiously sneaking downstairs and peering around every bend, you are just in time to see Yoongi slamming the basement door shut behind him.
Putting your ear to the entrance, you could hear the sounds of banging, of the chains, of low spoken voices. Over and over in your head, you told yourself to ignore it. To go back to bed and let it be. But the signs that there was another person down there with Yoongi were clear, and the temptation of that was too much to bear.
Your lesser instinct winning out, you open the door, instantly coming face to face with an ascending Yoongi. And behind him, in the place where you had been chained up many times before was a hooded man. Seated on the floor in a slumped position. His hands fixed against the wall keeping them high.
"Out," Yoongi demands, shoving your shoulder lightly to push you back through the doorway.
"Who-" is all you can gape, disbelief printed on your face.
"Not your concern." He refuses, closing the door. Continuing to push you back into the kitchen. "You do not go down there. Am I clear?" A finality to his expression not allowing any room for discussion or expansion.
Nodding, with a small pout you look at the basement one last time before faking a smile and returning to bed.
You were awestricken. Not once in nearly 8 months have you seen or heard another person in this house. Also not during the 6 months stretch before that. No one had visited. Not a single person had come past the house or had even driven up the driveway by accident. Your curiosity was burning you from the inside out. Your longing to see, to speak to another human aching your very soul.
Yoongi had gone into town, leaving you alone with the unlocked basement door. You'd always been chained up if he kept you down there, so it had never needed to be locked before. And the very idea of taking a quick peek was so tantalizing. However, on the more sensible side of this debate, you knew that Yoongi's word was final and you had never disobeyed him before.
You would like to say you were smart enough for this to at least be a difficult decision. But you swiftly threw common sense to the wind and went downstairs the second you heard the car pull out of the garage. Your body buzzing as you approached the new man.
With a heavy breath and timorous movements, you pull the hood back from the man's head. Black, straight, short hair. Dark, full brows, a perfect heart-shaped face, and ears that stuck out just a little too far. From head to toe, he's largely built. Taller and wider than Yoongi, making you astounded to think about how dangerous he really was.
For a few seconds, the both of you look equally surprised to see the other. Your pulse coursing through your ears, mouth slightly agape, looking at another human for the first time in forever.
"Hi," you squeak, nothing else coming to mind.
"Who are you?" He snarls.
It's spoken with so much hostility, but that question is one that brings you so much relief. You break down, pouring out your entire story in a rampant monologue. Telling him in detail everything you could about you, Yoongi, this place and your abductions. Fully spilling all that you had been so desperate to tell.
He, however, gives you nothing in return. For nearly 10 minutes you ask him question after question and he declines them all. Not even his name slips loose. He explains once that he can't know if your working with Yoongi, or that lunatic as he called him, and he is not going to tell you a single thing. Every question afterwards is only met with a solemn stare or a shake of refusal.
"If you won't tell me anything," you mope a little, "well, you look like a James Bond character, so I'm going to call you Mr Spy. The Spy? 007. Spy-man? I'll work on it." You mutter completely senseless and giddy from this rare moment. Continuing to overshare and divulge.
"Okay, Y/N. With everything you've told me, we're on the same page. So, if you help me get out of these," he rattles his hands, "Then I can get you out of this place."
The thought is alluring. But also more than you signed up for when you came down here. Firstly, Yoongi always keeps the keys for these chains on him. But secondly and most importantly, if you attempted to escape, if you tried to leave again Yoongi would never forgive you. You can't get away from him. You know you can't. And if you tried he would lock you up and throw away the key. You couldn't- You can't.
"I'm sorry, but no. I can't." You sadly brush his offer aside. Feeling awful denying him help like that. "I have to go back up before Yoongi comes home," you mumble.
Leaning over him you bring the hood up. You need to return him to how he was. He doesn't fight or argue, seeming to somberly accept his fate, but his eyes do dart to the top of the stairs at the last second.
Reacting to his troubled expression, you spin around seeing Yoongi already home, standing at the entrance.
At once your body tightens becoming flushed with sweat. Scrambling back from the man you stand in the middle of the room, trying to keep your breathing slow and deep to hide your fright.
"I thought," He starts to lower down the stairs, punctuating each point in his sentence with an additional step. "I said. You could not. Come in here."
"I'm sorry," you hush as Yoongi snatches the hood from your hand. Your head lowering in surrender.
"You want to save her?" He turns his attention and building anger towards his new prisoner. His fists are tight, knuckles cracking as he clenches and twists them. "You want to get her out of this place?" The challenge, the hash way he spits the words spoken about you is making the hairs on the back of your neck stand. Goosebumps flittering down your skin.
Lurching forward Yoongi's knee bashes into The Spy's head. And again. His foot following down booting him in the chest. And again.
"You think she wants to go with you?!" He growls, beating his fist into his head, over and over. The skin breaking, blood erupting all across his face. The Spy's restrained position not allowing him to protect himself in any way, only able to groan and splutter through the abuse. "You're too weak to even get yourself free. You think you can take her!" Yoongi steps back and lifts his leg, stomping the heel of his boot into the curled up fist of The Spy. Making him explode in a pained howl as you hear the bones crunch.
Not wanting to show any reaction, you stay coiled and fixed. Praying for this to end quickly. You had seen this level of violence and sadism from Yoongi before in the outside world. He doesn't acknowledge or accept any interference and he will only finish on his own terms.
You can't help but think if this is this how cruel and viciously he treats everyone else?
Stomping down again, this time he lines up The Spy's ankle. Throwing all his weight, all his force into the joint. The man's screams turning into cries as he wails in agony.
"No. You're not taking her anywhere." Yoongi straightens up, blowing out a heavy breath. Running his fingers back through his black hair over and over pulling it out of his face. "You're gonna tell me everything I wanna know. And then I'll finally let you die." He swallows hard, rearranging his clothes and loosening his muscles. His fiery explosion now quenched.
You can't lift your eyes as he drags you to the top floor. The basement door sealing, muffling the tears of the man below.
"Yoongi. I told him- I told him I couldn't-" You're starting and stopping, trying to sufficiently explain or plead your case. He's never shown anything near that level of violence towards you, but you were still sure he was about to lock you away endlessly for disobeying him.
He steps into you, silencing and making you jump back, smacking into the wall. Trapped between it and your hovering captor.
"I heard you." He speaks deeply and softly. In complete opposition to how he was moments ago. "Well done." His coarse pronunciation is abandoned as he speaks these words very clearly. Making sure you hear his sincerity.
His hand runs softly over your hair, stroking and cupping your head. Making you fight not to melt. Making you look up at him with big eyes. Any sort of affection from Yoongi instantly impacting you greatly, making you emotional and needy for more. Your bottom lip quivering, you whimper lowly as you lose the internal struggle and lean into his hand. Your eyes scrunching tight, hating yourself for how much his gentle touch affects your heart.
"Come with me," he holds your hand having you trail him upstairs. Taking you into his bedroom where he extends the affection and intimacy. Being with you so tenderly and kindly as your mind and heart tears back and forth between the softness you can feel now, and the horrors you saw him do before.
Despite the risks, your head fills with how and when you could see The Spy again. He was hurt, and he needed your help. And you were too eager to see him again. But when you wake the next day, you find a hefty padlock keeping the basement door sealed.
Yoongi at once reading your reaction. "You should thank me for locking that door Y/N. You don't know how dangerous some people can be."
Part two
#bts#yandere bts#yandere#bts fanfic#bangtan#yandere bangtan#bts smut#bts reactions#yandere yoongi#min yoongi#yandere suga#Yoongi#bts smut reactions#bts fan fiction#bts fanfction#bts requests#yoongi smut#bangtan reactions
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Rebuilding Family
Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Content/Warnings: pure fluff and a happy ending as promised :)
A/N: the final chapter 😭❤️ see my full note at the end
Masterlist
Chapter 37
“What’s your location? Over,” the walkie talkie on the kitchen counter crackled.
“Dino chicken nuggets are coming out of the oven as we speak. Over,” you replied back.
“Roger that. Over and out,” Jo stated and the walkie talkie went back to static.
Spencer got them as a gift for her and she would constantly have one with her, giving the other to someone before leaving the room so they could talk through it.
You headed out to the back porch and down the steps into the yard with a big plate of nuggets and dipping sauces as well as some juice boxes and applesauce for the twins.
“Coast is clear. Do you copy? Over,” you spoke into the walkie talkie.
“Affirmative. Bring ‘em up,” Jo exited the main part of the treehouse and you saw her on its little porch.
Spencer had built her a little pulley system with a basket and rope so she could lower or raise items up into the treehouse instead of carrying them up the ladder.
You placed the food and drinks inside and then made your way up the wooden ladder.
“Thank you, Mommy,” Jo smiled as she bit into a nugget.
“No problem, Cadet Jo,” you ruffled her hair up a little as she giggled.
You ducked to get through the door of the treehouse and sat down on a cushion on the floor next to Spencer who had both the twins in his lap.
“What are we watching?” you asked as you clipped the twins’ bibs on.
“Cars!” Jo cheered.
“I wanted to watch a subtitled Russian film but I was ‘boo’ed when I made that suggestion,” Spencer grinned as he grabbed the spoon to start feeding the babies.
“Hm I wonder why,” you teased.
Once Jo got the movie playing on the laptop, she took a seat in your lap with the plate of nuggets and took turns eating one, then handing one to you, then Spencer.
Once all the kids were fast asleep in your laps and the credits were rolling, you turned to Spencer.
“You and Derek really did a good job building this treehouse, love,” you complimented him.
“Anything for my family,” he smiled, then leaned over to kiss you.
-
It was the morning of Jo’s 8th birthday party. You wanted to make it extra special in light of what happened at her 7th birthday party.
Spencer kept reminding you that it wasn’t your fault a psychopath shot you and sent you to the hospital but you just wanted to give Jo the party she deserves.
You rented a bouncy house and an inflatable water slide. Spencer was doing a magic show and Penelope was doing face paintings. You baked a huge stegosaurus-shaped cake from scratch. No kid would be bored and Jo would have an amazing time.
You settled for having it in your backyard instead of the park now that you had plenty of room. The whole team came over earlier to help set up.
Penelope got all her paints organized on the porch table as Spencer set up his mini stage for the performance. Hotch and Derek filled the slide with water while you and Emily carefully brought the massive cake to the table outside.
Jo came running outside already in her swimsuit, eager to get the first splash in the water slide.
“You have to come with me, Uncle Derek,” she insisted.
“Jo, I don’t have my swimsuit on,” he replied.
“You’re in athletic shorts. They’ll dry quick,” Savannah, his girlfriend, yelled from where she was setting up the food table.
Derek looked to Hotch to help him out. Hotch pointed back to Jo who was giving him puppy dog eyes.
“Fine,” he groaned, taking off his shirt which elicited a holler from Penelope.
Jo made her way up the steps with Derek right behind her.
Jo sat down in Derek’s lap and then turned around to face him.
“Okay, ready?” she asked him.
Derek nodded and then pushed off, sending them both down the slippery slide.
“Weee!” Jo exclaimed as they slid down.
“Again,” she demanded, “Where’s Daddy?”
“He went to put his swimsuit on, Baby J, so he can go with you,” you told her as you set Ollie down next to Ophelia in the playpen outside.
“Coming, Princess!” Spencer ran outside and scooped the little girl up in his arms as he trekked up the steps.
“How about we go down like a penguin this time?” he suggested.
Jo nodded enthusiastically as Spencer got onto his belly and Jo laid on top of him and wrapped her hands around his neck.
“1…2…3!” Spencer pushed off and they raced down the slide again, Jo giggling the whole time.
“Again!” Jo said.
“I think we are going to have to buy one of these, love,” Spencer called over to you, laughing and running up the stairs right behind Jo again.
-
“Please welcome my lovely assistant to the stage,” Spencer spoke in his magician tuxedo.
You waved as the audience clapped. You were wearing a sparkly red sequin dress to compliment Spencer’s bow tie.
“I am going to make my assistant…disappear,” he stated.
The kids in the audience gasped.
Spencer took your hand and guided you to the big black box in the center of the stage.
“Just like we practiced,” he whispered to you as you stepped inside.
You winked and he kissed your hand as he let go and closed the door.
Spencer knocked on the door a few times and wiggled his hands for some showmanship.
“Okay, on the count of 3. We’re all going to yell ‘Abracadabra’,” Spencer explained, “1…2…3!”
“Abracadabra!” all the kids yelled.
Spencer set off a small smoke bomb and quickly opened the door, revealing an empty box.
The kids all screamed in wonder.
“Bring Mommy back!” Jo yelled.
You had to stifle your laughter from behind the fake wall in the box you were hiding behind.
“Your wish is my command, Princess,” Spencer closed the door again.
“To reverse the spell, we need to say the exact same word,” Spencer stated.
“Abracadabra!” the kids yelled once again.
This time, you opened the door and the kids clapped enthusiastically.
“For this next trick, I need a volunteer from the audience,” Spencer smiled.
All the kids’ hands shot up in the air.
“I’m going to have to go with the wonderful birthday girl right in the front row,” you took Jo’s hand and escorted her up onto the stage.
“Jo, I need you to pick a card, any card. Show the audience but not me,” Spencer fanned the cards out in his hands and closed his eyes.
Jo picked the ace of hearts and showed the audience.
“Now, put it back in the pile,” he said.
“Alright,” Spencer opened his eyes and began to shuffle the cards, “Is this your card?” he asked, holding the eight of spades.
“No, Daddy. Try again,” Jo said.
“Is this it?” he questioned, holding the queen of diamonds.
“No, Daddy.”
“Oh,” Spencer smacked his forehead, “I know where I put it,” he pulled off his top hat.
Spencer then proceeded to pull a bouquet of flowers, an endless handkerchief, a rubber chicken, and many other silly things out of his hat that had the kids in tears from laughing.
Finally, he pulled out the ace of hearts, “Is this your card, Princess?”
“Yes, Daddy!” she beamed, hugging him.
-
Jo’s birthday was a complete success. She was completely worn out by the end of it and slept in late the next morning.
But when she did finally wake, she was eager to try out her gift that you and Spencer had gotten her: a big kid bike with no training wheels. It was purple which was her favorite color with a white basket on the front and a little bell on the handlebars.
You and Spencer were going to teach her how to ride it today. She padded up with some knee pads and elbow pads and her helmet.
You had the twins in their double stroller with mini bucket hats on to protect them from the sun.
“Okay, Jo. Me and Daddy will run with you for a little but then we’re going to let go but you’re going to keep pedaling,” you explained to her.
“I’m scared,” she replied, looking at the street in front of her.
You were practicing in the street in front of your house because it wasn’t very busy and it was flat. Plus, you could leave the twins in the stroller in the driveway.
“It’s okay, Baby J. You’ve got all your padding on so even if you fall, it won’t hurt at all, I promise,” you assured her.
“I believe in you, Princess,” Spencer kissed her helmet-covered head.
“I’m ready,” she nodded, moving her feet to the pedals.
“That’s my girl,” you smiled.
You and Spencer began to jog alongside her as she pedaled.
Spencer looked at you, “Okay, Princess. We’re letting go.”
You and Spencer both removed your hands from her bike and she continued to speed forward.
“Yes, Jo! You’re doing it! ” you encouraged her.
“Princess, can you turn around and come back to me and Mommy?” Spencer asked.
Jo carefully steered her bike and headed back to you both with a massive smile on her face. You and Spencer were loudly cheering her on.
“Okay, try to brake,” you said.
Jo slowly came to a stop right in between you both.
“You’re a pro!” you grinned as you both knelt down to hug her.
-
Jo had been biking for the past hour and she was still having a blast.
You and Spencer were laying in the front yard with the twins in your laps.
“Mommy, Daddy! Look!” Jo exclaimed as she did donuts on the bike.
“We’re looking, Baby J,” you laughed, “Great job!”
You leaned your head on Spencer’s shoulder.
“Y/N…” Spencer began.
“Yes, Spence?”
“Thank you,” he replied.
“For what?” you looked up at him.
“All this,” he motioned to Jo, the twins, the house, the yard, the chalk drawings on the driveway, the rocking chairs on the front porch, the doormat that said ‘The Reids’, everything he ever dreamed of, “I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” you kissed him, “I’d give you the world if I could.”
“You already have,” he smiled.
A/N: thank you everyone so so so much for reading, commenting, reblogging, etc.! i love you all so much. i’m probably going to miss this too much and do one-shots of this series in the future. also, this series hit 14,000 on ao3! that’s crazy that that many people read my work. thank you, just thank you! -dory <3
main taglist (just ask to be added/removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @rem-ariiana @hoodpankow @mochionly @spencerreid-187 @babymetaldoll @fics4arainyday @ssavanessa22 @all-tings-diego @idonotexiste @beepbooptoop @tvandfanfic @mggsprettygirl @big-galaxy-chaos @navs-bhat
series taglist: @doctorreiding @reidsfish
#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fic#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid fanfiction#reid x reader#cm fic#cm fanfic#dad!spencer
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Simple Silver - Dark!Stephen Strange x Reader
Summary: You’ve been given a gift, one not many Omegas get. A bracelet that when worn by an Omega changes their scent ever so slightly. All you need to do is keep the bracelet on and he can’t find you.
Warnings: 18+ adult content, dark!, ABO (no mentions of knots, heat, or rutt.), general misogyny, noncon/dubcon, smut, vaginal fingering, oral (male receiving), violence, orgasm delay/denial, kidnapping (kinda), she spits in his face in this, possessive behavior.
Word count: 2.7k
A/N: This fic is a request from @leniram1890. Seriously, thank you so much. It’s everything I love to write and read and you just dropped it in my lap. Now that it’s done I want more…
by clicking keep reading you confirm that you are over the age of 18 and consent to reading mature content.
You’re infatuated with him. He stands tall, you guess at least six feet, and his smell; he smells like no Alpha you've ever encountered. There’s this look to him, unequivocally attractive but in a unique and confusing way that draws you in. His eyebrows lift slightly making his otherwise small and ordinary eyes the focal point of his face. He looks around the room with a focus and intensity that feels inhuman. You finger the small bracelet that holds your secret and walk behind him, your Omega instincts telling you to get close. You suddenly recognize where you are and what you’re doing. looking down to your hands, you stare horrified at the bracelet that was taken off without your noticing. you put it back on and sprint out of the building, not stopping until you’re behind the safety of your padlocked apartment door.
Your phone goes off and you answer, making up an excuse about food poisoning and promising to be in early the next day.
Your Alpha, it had to be him.
You’ve wondered what it would be like to meet your Alpha, if you would feel bad about hiding from them. You don’t feel bad, only upset with yourself for losing control. You almost gave up your whole life in one stupid moment.
The simple silver bracelet that sits on your wrist feels heavy and you look at it. It’s a chain that suppresses your true self and one that sets you free. It’s one you choose to wear because the alternative is a life looking over your shoulder; waiting for your Alpha to find and claim you. Your parents gave it to you the day you presented and it’s given you opportunities not many Omegas get. It changes your scent just enough to let you hide, giving you the ability to decide for yourself how you feel about your Alpha, to choose a life with him or to keep the life you’ve built for yourself.
Your coworkers don’t waste time the next morning. One is already at your desk and two more walk up as you sit down.
“Ok, what did I miss?” you ask.
“Right when you left this scary looking Alpha started raging. Stark had to call in the avengers to get him to calm down.”
You act surprised, knitting your brows and leaning forward in fake interest.
“What happened?”
“Apparently He smelled his Omega but couldn’t find them.”
“Crazy.” you say, opening up your email and scrolling through.
Coworkers start dispercing and you let out a held breath. You get to work, having extra from the day before and lose yourself for several hours.
“That’s him.” whispers a voice and you look up at your coworker before following their eyes.
It’s him, your Alpha, and he’s walking straight toward you.
You try your best to stay focused on work and not give away the slight shaking of your hands as his scent hits your nose. He stops at your desk and you look up at his chest avoiding eye contact.
“What can I do for you mr…”
“Dr. Strange,” he pauses. “I’m sure you know what happened yesterday.”
“I don’t judge sir.”
He looks at you and leans on your desk.
“Ah, but you are judging. Spit it out then.”
You take your hands off of your keyboard and fold them over your chest.
“Omegas don’t have lives after they mate, I guess it doesn’t doesn’t feel fair to me.”
“What makes you think my Omega wouldn’t have a life?”
“You would let your Omega Work? Travel by themselves? Have their own bank account?”
He thrums his fingers on your desk.
“My Omega will have a good life, they need to know their place though. When I finally find them they won’t even be allowed to leave the house without permission.”
You bristle. “Well then, I’m glad you weren’t able to find them.”
He leans farther over your desk, his demeanor shifting into one of intimidation. You do everything you can not to cower back as his aggressive scent washes over you.
“You don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
“Maybe your Omega is hiding from you, that’s what I would do if I was an Omega.” You finally make eye contact, staring into the stormy grey abyss of his irises and he leans forward even more.
“They better not be.”
“What would you do if you found out they were?”
His fist clenches and you can’t help but push your chair back a few inches. You see Tony walking toward you from the corner of your eye and stand up, pushing your pointer finger against his forehead.
“You sir, are one of the most obnoxious people I’ve ever met, and I work for Tony Stark,” you say.
His mouth opens in surprise and he stands up.
Tony makes it to you at just the right moment. “Hey now, stop harassing my assistant. We’re not having a repeat of yesterday, thank you.”
Strange narrows his eyes at you but doesn’t say anything as he follows Tony into his office.
You walk to the back of the grocery store, picking up a pint of icecream and hurrying to pay for it. Your day was long and the only thing you can think about is a hot bath. You don’t notice him until it’s too late. His smug face takes in your slightly messy appearance as you try to pass by him.
“Dinner, I assume. Your questionable behavior before is starting to make sense.”
You stare at him unsure how to respond and he tilts his head and smirks.
“I’m insinuating, dear, that your disrespectful behavior this morning was caused by a lack of adequate nutrition.”
You readjust your shirt and let out a huff.
“I wonder,” you pause and smile sweetly. “How much shit did you have to consume in your ‘diet’ to become such an asshole?”
You pull out a pair of earphones and stick them in your ears, turning on your heel to pay for your dinner. He grabs your arm, pulling you close and tears out your headphones with his other hand.
“I’ve never met anyone who gets under my skin so easily, why do you make me so angry?” he sneers.
“Your anger is your responsibility,” you pull away, shaking slightly and holding back tears.
You can feel his eyes watching you as you jump into a self checkout line to pay. As soon as you reach your apartment you let the tears fall. You hate him. You hate his stupid face and egotistical personality. You hate that you react to him, that your nature makes your knees go weak when you’re around him. You hug your bracelet against your chest and let out a shaky breath. As long as the bracelet stays on you’re safe. You just need to keep it on, that’s it.
You stand in Tony’s office staring at a folder.
“Send a courier or another employee, I don’t want to do it.”
Tony raises his eyebrows in shock at your sudden and uncharacteristic outburst.
“I need someone I trust to drop them off, Is there some reason you can’t do it?”
“I just don’t get along with Dr. Strange.”
“You’re dropping off a file, not going on a date,” he quips.
You take a deep breath and remind yourself that you love your job. It’s just a quick trip, drop it off and you’re done. It’s been a week since you saw him last, he doesn’t know who you are or he would already have come for you. Just a quick drop off, that’s it.
“I’m sorry sir. You’re right, I’m being unprofessional. I can do it.”
He waves you out and you call an uber riding it to what Tony described only as “The Sanctum”.
You walk in and look around the large entry room, searching for someone who can help. It’s eerily quiet and you walk up a huge set of stars, wandering and looking at various museum-like displays until you’re on the top floor. The room is dark, the only light coming from a large round window. A stranger walks up and looks at you with a surprised expression.
“I’m sorry, I’m looking for Dr. Strange? I’m just dropping something off from Mr. Stark.”
“Ah of course, I’m Wong.” He says holding out his hand.
You reach out and take his hand and he looks at your wrist, grabbing onto your bracelet and pulling it off.
“I haven't seen one of these in a long time.” he examines the bracelet closely.
“That’s mine, give it back please.”
“Not until you tell me why you’re hiding your designation.”
“My Alpha is a cruel man, please give it back. I need it now.” you say urgently.
“Hey, nobody will hurt you here. Who is this Alpha?”
You start shaking and reach out again trying to take the bracelet back from him.
“Wong, I… Oh no, not you again,” Stephen says from an open doorway, his face turning into a scowl.
You grab the bracelet and push it on your wrist. It’s too late though, Stephens eyes widen in recognition as your scent hits him.
You bolt. You know you won’t make it out so you pull at the first door you find, slamming it closed and locking it.
The banging starts almost immediately. “OMEGA, OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!” he yells.
“Don’t do this, please. I don’t want this. I need more time. Don’t force me, please,” you cry.
Sparks start flying in a circle in front of your eyes and your Alpha is suddenly walking through a portal. You look around, seeing a second door and yanking it open. Something catches your leg and you’re pulled backwards by what looks like a glowing rope.
“You knew I was your Alpha the whole time.” he says, moving his body to sit on your middle.
You bite your tongue and glare at him.
“Answer me!” He yells, grabbing your arms and pushing them above you.
His face is only inches from your own and you spit without thinking. He lets go of your hands and sits back, wiping the wetness from his face before staring at his wet hand.
“This explains everything, catching your scent, the extreme annoyance at your lack of respect, the anger I felt at the thought of you not eating like you should.”
He grabs your shirt, ripping it down the middle and causing buttons to fly through the air. Goosebumps appear over your skin and you shiver from both fear and the cold. He flips you over roughly, pulling off your shirt all the way. His hand roams to your mating gland. He leans over and breathes in, kissing it gently.
“Fuck you,” you say through clenched teeth.
He stops and waits until you’re done shaking.
“Why aren’t you biting me?” you whisper.
“You said you wanted time.”
He stands, pulling you up with him and makes a circle with his finger, opening up a portal in front of you. His hand is on your back pushing you through and when you turn around you're alone in what looks like a bedroom. Immediately, you run and try the door, opening it and sprinting out. The breath is knocked out of you as someone promptly slams you into a wall. You start coughing as the pain radiates through your body, then you’re falling onto a soft bed in the same room as before. After a few minutes of coughing you stand and run again, trying the window this time and just like before you’re caught and pushed through a portal back to the same room. You keep trying until you’re completely out of places to run, until your energy, both emotional and physical, is depleted.
The moment you finally give up a portal opens on your right and Stephen walks through.
It would have been easier if he had just bitten and fucked you right away. Letting you run over and over just to squash your hope is even more cruel, like a sick joke where he is the only person privy to the punchline. You stand in the middle of the room with your eyes down and wait for the inevitable.
He walks around you slowly and with each methodical step your anxiety grows until your knees buckle and you drop to the ground, crying into your hands. He stops and crouches in front of you, putting his finger under your chin and raising it slowly until you look him in the face. He lets go and keeps eye contact as he reaches between your legs and almost too gently runs his finger over your pussy. His eyes bore into you as his hand slowly becomes more and more noticeable above your clothes.
“I hate you.” you whisper as he pushes your legs apart.
He slides his hand into your pants and continues to rub over your clit, now making quick circles. His finger dips in your heat and you whimper involuntarily. You close your eyes as the sensations start to build and when you’re about to go over the line he stops. Your eyes shoot open and he smirks.
“It’s important you understand a few things.”
You aren’t expecting it, for him to suddenly pull his hand back and slap you across the face. You’re not prepared for the force behind his hand. How it makes your entire face sting, the pain radiating down your neck and shoulder. You grasp your cheek and bite your lip to avoid crying.
“I own you.” He slides his hand down to your pussy again.
“I own your pleasure.” He slides his hand up to your breast, pushing your bra down and pinching your nipple harshly. “And your pain.”
He backs away and crosses his arms, motioning with his head at the remaining clothes on your body. You slowly rise and remove your pants and underwear, standing in front of him fully naked.
His hand roams to your neck and he holds it gently.
“Hate me all you want.”
His hand constricts slightly around your throat.
“But don’t you dare run from me.”
His hand tightens again.
“Or hide.”
He keeps his hand on your throat and pushes you back to the bed until you’re lying on your back with him above you. His other hand reaches to your legs and taps between them gently. He puts his cheek against yours when you don’t move.
“Open Omega, and don’t you dare close those legs.”
He lets go of your neck when you relax your legs, backing away and unbuckling his pants.
“You don’t even like me,” you remark.
“I didn’t like who you were pretending to be.”
He walks over so that his sizable dick sits in front of your face.
“Suck,” he commands.
You suck on the tip without complaint and he grabs the back of your head and thrusts a few times before pulling out and patting your cheek.
“A much better use for your sharp tongue.”
You bite back a retort and look away as he positions himself in between your legs and pushes himself in with one forceful thrust. You let out a whimper and reach out your arms around him in response. He grabs your shoulders and ruts into you.
“This is where you belong Omega,” he wipes a tear from your cheek, a stark contrast to the painful pace of his thrusts.
“You.” he thrusts. “Belong,” The force starts to push you up on the bed. “ To me!”
He flips you suddenly and fucks you again from behind, gripping your hips tight enough to bruise. A warm hand brushes over your mating gland and you feel his breath against your back. Stars appear before your eyes as he bites, your entire body consumed with the conflicting sensations of pain and pleasure. It pushes you into an intense orgasm that leaves you shaking from the adrenaline.
“Understand?”
You nod and he slides into bed next to you and kisses between your shoulder blades. You look over at his discarded clothes, noticing the gleam of your bracelet poking out of a pocket.
“Were you serious when you said you wouldn’t let your Omega out of the house?”
“Now that you mention it, I’ve actually had a change of heart.”
He peppers kisses across your neck and back.
“You, my adventurous Omega, won’t even leave this room without me by your side.”
You try to move but he holds you close, effectively chaining you to him. You blink back a tear and shift closer to him, letting yourself relax into his arms.
“There you go, let go and accept it.”
“Never,” you say between choked sobs.
His hand roams up your body, exploring every bit.
“We’ll see.”
#dark!stephen strange#stephen strange x you#Stephen strange x reader#darkmcu#dark!marvel#alpha!stephen strange#alpha!Stephen strange x you#Dark!abo#mcu abo#doctor strange#dark! doctor strange#stephen strange
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