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jiminzfilter · 3 years ago

Text

slow dancing in the night

→ Pairing. Taehyung x reader

→ Genre. established relationship, fluff, slice of life, model!taehyung, model!reader, taehyung missed you a lot, he is starving (his words not mine), gets a bit hot by the last 40 lines, mentions of oral (f) so I guess this counts as mature content, implied smut, making out (kinda), there is a bit of swearing

→ Summary. what could possibly be better than coming home after a long day of work to someone you love and missed a lot ?

→ Word count. 3.2k (!!!)

→ because I wrote this over a year ago when I still didn't know what I was doing with my writing, I had to go through a deep process of editing and re-writing before posting it. This might not be my best work but it's still a fic that I really really like :,)

→ song rec. slow dancing in the dark, Joji// still with you, Jungkook

Fridays have always been exhausting days for both you and your boyfriend, especially on runways weeks. As models, you were put under a lot of pressure.

Pressure to be perfect, to smile but never smile too much, to look good, to not fall on stage.

Falling has to be the most tragic thing that can happen to your carreer as a model, the hungry stares of thousands of photographers and reporters ready to share the latest news to the press.

Yeah, it was exhausting.

This week was no exception... or maybe it was since, this time, you were the only one working until late.

It’s four in the morning and you’re already on your way out - kind of running late, oBviOusLy - quietly wishing your boyfriend a good day.

He is not working today.

That lucky bastard.

He gets to enjoy his free day in bed, lazing around, while you work your ass off all day. He mumbles something that you assume is a sort of goodbye. He is still asleep.

You look at him one last time before leaving the room and smile. He looks so peaceful.

You still remember the day you met, by pure luck even though you both call that fate. That was 5 years ago, when you just debuted your career as a model and were not that comfortable around high heels.

Okay no. Let’s be real.

You hated wearing them because you couldn’t walk in heels higher than 5 cm.

It’s still a wonder how you managed to make it in the first place.

Were you wearing flat shoes for the audition ? Damn you really must’ve done an impression on the judges if they made you pass without the heels try-on.

Your first day at the agency was chaotic to say the least. Your manager made you walk around the building, to visit she said. She made you wear heels. HEELS. That devilish person.

But, thank to that, you got to meet Taehyung. Your eyes landed on him as you were visiting the lounge and couldn’t tear them away from his figure. The poor man had to witness you fall down because you weren’t watching your steps anymore.

I mean.

Who could blame you ??

That was Kim frEaking Taehyung

!!!

He even came to help you get back on your feet and asked if you were alright, kind of amused.

It’s not everyday you see someone falling down in here, let alone a newbie

Let’s be honest, you were so embarrassed.

First day of work and you’re already failing falling.

That night when you came home, you spent the night wearing heels and prayed really hard you’d never have to face him again. After all, the building was big enough and there were enough workers that you could avoid Taehyung easily

If only

The NeXt day, you were told that you had a couple shooting, with none other that Kim Taehyung.

GreaT

He would occasionally tease you about your fall and check on you to see if everything was alright. He watched you carefully as you were walking around with heels.

From up close he looked even more handsome.... :)

After this day, you started talking with Taehyung more and more. He introduced you to everyone around the agency. You met outside of work, got to know each other. You both became regally good friends but there was something lingering in the air, in the way you’d look at each other or stood so close to him after a couple glasses of wine that you could breathe his air.

So what was bound to happen happened and you went from friends a to lovers without really noticing it.

He was still your best friend...somehow

Eventually, you took things to the next level and moved in together... maybe a half and a year ago or so ? You’ve never been happier in your life

And, well, you’d actually be happier if you could spend the day with boyfriend instead of running around trying to find god knows which accessories you need for the rehearsal.

8 in the morning is noT a time to be doing cardio.

Especially while wearing heels

Become a model they said, it’ll be fun they said

“Y/n! Come here please I need you to try on this dress before you go!” Your personal stylist calls “I made sure to fix it yesterday so it’d be a perfect fit for the show”

You stop your tracks and go to her “make this quick i have to go get changed before 9 otherwise I’m screwed. Why did they even decide to do the rehearsals so early today ?” You sigh, frustrated, and put on the dress she’s handing you “thank you”

“Okayyy...it looks great. Gold looks amazing on you.” She smoothes the dress and gives an approving nod, visibly satisfied ; “You’ll look perfect for the Grand Finale. Oh god it’s already 8:30 you better go before Mr.Kim throws a fit because you’re late”

You both giggle ; “thank you for fixing the dress Naeun, see you later today. Well, probably tonight. Byeeee”

The rehearsal seems to never end. You’re squeezed in dozens of different outfits, gorgeous for sure but sO tight. Mr. Kim, the one who organised the runway, is such a perfectionist that you have to re-do some things multiple times before he’s satisfied. One time the lighting isn’t right, the other the models are walking too fast, not on beat and so on.

Everyone hates him for that but he always makes the best shows so you just follow.

After multiple tries, the rehearsal finally comes to an end. It’s already 4PM. You barely get time to breathe and go pee before you’re back into the ‘running-around-to-find-my-dress-and-fix-my-makeup-oh-god-i-gotta-be-on-stage’ crazy mess.

Walking on the runway feels amazing, running backstage is terrible.

It’s so hot and small back there you can hardly move around well.

It takes 2 hours for the whole fashion show to be over, one more for pictures outside the catwalk and chat with reporters. Since you’re kind of a famous model now, you get invited to the afterparty and spend few extra hours interacting with some celebrities that attended the show. Other models were invited and you’re happy to see familiar faces amongst them. Jimin, an old colleague and friend of yours, comes your way and compliments you. You chat with him for a while before deciding you’ve had enough for the day and leave the party. A few more people greet you on your way out.

A taxi takes you back to you company, where you left your stuff in the morning. You spend an extra thirty minutes getting rid of your heavy makeup and striping off that gorgeous but awfully tight golden dress you’ve been wearing ever since the end of the runway.

Now, you can FinaLLy go home. yassssss

It’s almost 12am when you leave the agency and climb into yet another taxi. The ride is quiet, background music playing over the car’s radio, and you take some time to look at what you were gifted for your performance : fancy makeup products, accessories, pieces of clothing-but not those from the runway, you sadly never get to keep those. Being kinda famous has its perks :,)

You then decide it’s time to warn Taehyung you’ll arrive soon and send him a few texts. As if he was waiting for them, he instantly replies saying he’ll be waiting for you and proceeds to spam you with heart emojis. Sometimes, it looks like this man just discovered what emojis were and is trying to use them as much as possible. What a child…

It’s way past midnight when you finally step into your duplex and the first thing you notice is that the place is way too quiet.

Maybe Tae went back to sleep, who knows, it’s super late after all…

You remove shoes and jacket and drop your bags in the entrance before going further and you call out quietly “anyone here? Tae, you sleeping?”

There is a faint glow from the tv on your right but the sound has been muted.

Weird…

“Taehyung ?" You call one last time

Suddenly, two strong arms wrap themselves around your waist and you’re pulled into someone’s chest. You gasp, almost scream, but soften up when you feel the warmth on your back

“Hi baby” a deep voice says in your ear, sending chills down your spine “I missed you”

You turn around and are very pleased to see a handsome face and a warm exposed chest your boyfriend smiling at you.

“Mhm, missed you too” You wrap your arms around him and rest your head against his chest, happy to hear his heartbeat. Taehyung places his head atop of yours and gently strokes your hair. You tighten your grasp around him and hum.

Few seconds later, he lifts your chin up and gently lays a kiss on your lips.

“How are you doing?” He asks, his right hand cupping your cheek. The warmth of it is comforting.

“Exhausted, but you know how it goes” You shrug and he smiles

“Not too tired for dinner ? I could cook something if you want”

“Mhm... let me just go shower and put something else on” You sadly let go of him

“Sure, go ahead” he whispers and you give him a kiss before regretfully tearing yourself away from him.

You walk up the stairs to your bedroom, where you find the bed undone. You smile, Taehyung never really liked making the bed and, very honestly, neither did you. You slump onto the mattress and bury your face into the pillows, inhaling his scent. Lavender. Relaxing. Just like he is.

After a warm shower, you find a t-shirt Taehyung left on a chair in the room and wear it. It’s big enough to reach your thighs and, if you were more energised, you’d probably stay like this. You grab large pants and put them on.

Once again, you smell lavender all around you.

When you’re back in the living area, you see Taehyung busying himself in the kitchen. He hears your steps and his eyes find yours as a smile appears on his face when he notices that you’re wearing his shirt

“My shirt looks better on you than it’d ever do on me” He teases, his gaze longing on your frame.

“maybe I should keep it then” you smile and ask ; ”Do you need any help?”

“no no no no no, you’ve worked enough already. Go and have some rest. I'll call you when everything’s ready okay?”

Too tired to argue on this anyways -and thankful for the given rest-, you go lay down on the couch, your body oriented to let you look at Taehyung.

As he hums and moves to the chill music that was playing in the background, you start to detail his beautiful figure. From the curl of his dark hair (which you knoW are so so soft to the touch) to his beautiful profile and his nose you love so much down to his broad shoulder and then his tanned abs you see from time to time when the opened shirt of his pyjama moves according to his steps.

oH! Let’s not forget his perfect hands gripping at the pan’s handle while he cooks… vegetables? Something like that yeah.

Taehyung is giving his best into what he’s cooking. Vegetables with rice, that’s the only thing he could do quickly.

Quickly as in less than half an hour, unlike his friend Namjoon who’d take this time just to cook the rice.

The music he put earlier is slowly starting to bore him. After washing his hands, he reaches out for his phone and plays a different playlist. It’s one you name yourself when the two of you were still friends (aka not dating yet). “Taetae fm” because you once joked he should have his own broadcasting channel on the radio. He’d always criticise the music playing so why not have his own channel 👀

“You know Y/n, I actually watched the fashion show live this afternoon. I mean, of course you know because I always do that haha. Anyways, you really were the highlight of the runway tonight. And I’m not saying this in a biased point of view. Okay I might be a bit biased as your boyfriend but I swear that it’s true!! You literally shone back there, especially in that gold dress you were wearing and even the audience was impressed by your looks maybe you didn’t see it on stage but some cameras filmed their reactions and everyone was looking at you. Really, you were so gorge-oh” Taehyung looks at you and smile fondly “Of course you’re asleep, baby”

He lets his phone aside and checks the now cooked food before making his way to the couch. There’s a blanket on the sofa, he covers you with it, scared you might get cold. Taehyung put a loose strand of hair behind your ear and places a kiss on your chin.

You slowly open your eyes and find yourself face to face with him. You both smile.

“Hi there beautiful” He whispers

“what time is it? Did I sleep until the morning?” You’re scared of having slept through the entire nap without realising

“almost 1:20am, I just finished cooking. I thought you might be cold so I went to cover you with the blanket. You should go enjoy the food while it’s still hot, imma go to the toilet”

You nod as an answer and watch him leave upstairs. Getting up from the warmth of the couch is the hardest part so you keep the soft blanket draped around your shoulders and walk towards the kitchen. You grab two bowls and two pairs of chopsticks that you place on the counter along with glasses and a bottle of water.

You then go take care of the rice and the vegetables, which you mix in the pan. The song playing changes and your favourite nighttime tune starts.

“I don’t want a friend, I want my life in two” you sing along

“Waiting to get there, waiting for you” Taehyung’s voice startles you as he grabs your wrists and pulls your back close to him. You smile as he makes the both of you dance slowly. You put his arms around you so it’s like he’s hugging you from the back. You swing around for a little while, enjoying the close proximity as you both softly hum the song, making your body vibrate against each other, moving in perfect coordination.

“I love you” he whispers in your ear and then kisses it, sending chills down your spine, before lifting one of your arm up to make you turn so that you’re now facing him “did my baby sleep well?” You nod as you place your arms around his waist, paying attention to go under the shirt so you’re touching as much skin as possible.

Taehyung chuckles before asking you in that same, chill-sending, low deep voice ; “Still hungry? Because I’m starving”

If you didn’t just wake up, you would’ve definitely caught that lust in his eyes and also the fact that this wasn’t as innocent as it seemed.

As an answer, your stomach growls pretty loudly, making Taehyung laugh . “I’ll take that as a yes. Sit down, princess. Let me take care of you”

You do as he says, jumping on a stool, detailing all of his moves. You only realise how hungry you actually were when you start eating. Rice with vegetables has never tastes better. You eat everything in less than 5 minutes when you’d usually take your time to finish your plate.

“Damn, that was a well needed dinner! Thank you Tae” you mess a bit with his soft locks

“Imagine me who was waiting for you all evening!! I was hungry too” He pouts.

“Oh come on, I was working today. Cardio in heels isn’t the best way to wake up, let alone spend the whole day standing in tight clothes. When I think you has a day off… pfff. I saw the bed, I’m sure you stayed there all day, you lazyyyyyyyyy ass.”

He mumbles some gibberish and you giggle, knowing that you're right. He looks away, crossing his arms and obviously sulking. You leave your stool and stand behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You leave a few kisses on his cheek and neck

“- Don’t be such a babyy. You know I love you.

- You do?

- of course, you dummy” you bop his nose "Sooo, what do we have for desert?

- You. Uh I mean!! Yoghurt, fruits, cakes, fruits…anything” he clears his throat

“Great! What do you prefer?” You open the fridge

“ I’d very happily eat you out honestly but an apple sounds good”

“Oh sur- wait whaT!?” You snap your head to him, eyes wide open

what did he sayyyyyyyy?????

whaT am I even supposed to say noW oh my goddddd

You close the fridge’s door, suddenly not so yogurt-hungry.

There’s a sudden silence between the two of you, only disturbed by the music still playing in the background.

“Mhm? What is it?” He turns around to face you, asking so innocently “did I say something wrong ?”

This man knows what he is doing for sure. Has he ever been that straightforward before ?

Taehyung stands and closes the distance between your bodies, now towering over you.

He lowers himself slightly to speak in your ear “what is it baby? Mhm?” You feel his smile on your cheek when he lays a kiss on it “what happened to my all proud and fierce y/n who was so confident telling me I was being lazy all day, huh? Tell me” He lays another kiss on your temple

OkaY

now he’s being a tease

Great

1 A.M. fluffy and bare chested teaser Taehyung

gReAT

Anyhow, it’s a good turn on.

Really.good.freaking.turn.on

Being tired and turned on was definitely not a good mix for you. You could feel the heat rising in your body and hear your heart pounding in your ears.

“Tae…”

He laughs gently seeing you silently begging for more, brushing your face with his lips, teasing another kiss.

“Tsk tsk, you gotta speak darling, I cannot guess”

You should calm down and go to sleep, it’s 1am and you have work tomorrow you should definitely-

“Fuck-“ You sigh and grab his face, sealing your lips together while closing your eyes.

It doesn’t take long for that kiss to turn into a heated make out session.

You grab and pull some of his dark curls while his hands travels under his your shirt.

You break the kiss just a second to catch your breath.

“Have i ever told you you have the perfect body?” Taehyung asks

“Did I ever tell you how perfect you are??” You reply

He laughs, deep raspy laugh.

You’re too tired for this

And because you’re tired, you’re even more horny :D

Taehyung puts his hands behind your thighs and you jump, locking your legs around his waist, hands still in his hair, lips against his while carries you to the bedroom.

He leaves your lips to travel down your jaw and then collarbone. You throw your head back.

Taehyung gently lays you on the mattress of your king sized bed and makes it his personal mission to pleasure you tonight.

#taehyung fics #taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung au #taehyung fluff #bts fanfic #taehyung #taehyung ff #fluff #implied smut #model taehyung #bts fics #taehyung oneshot #taehyung one shots #taehyung one-shots #taehyung smut #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung au #it's 2am what am I doing #slow dancing in the night

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gleamglowsgraveyard · 4 years ago

Note

How about Sirius finding out the reader has a crush on him...and gives her her first kiss? 😘

cigarettes and firewhisky

pairing: sirius/reader

word count: 2.4k

summary: amortentia is no fun to make when you’re partnered up with the person you know it’s going to end up smelling like.

content: fluff, me being bad at writing slughorn, very brief mention of sirius’s family issues, confessions in an empty classroom, kissing but nothing spicy (edit: rereading this i realized i made the reader pretty gender neutral! no pronouns or anything like that :)

you know i had to pull the amortentia trope. this was a cute request, thank you so much! also thank you to my anons who sent in what they thought sirius smelled like, you guys were a lot of help! (except the person who suggested that sirius smells like wet dog. you know who you are.)

This was the worst thing that could possibly happen to you. Surely some higher power was laughing at you from above, taunting you and your dreadful luck.

Your heart was beating a million miles a minute. How on earth did you end up being paired up with Sirius Black of all people?! And - even worse - making the worst potion ever concocted?!

If you weren’t in public you’re sure you’d be letting out a crazed laugh out of pure mania.

So far you’ve been able to dodge all of his attempts at conversation, quickly sending him off to find another ingredient as soon as he got too chatty. You’d hardly made any eye contact at all, and any time he handed you something you were careful not to have his fingertips even slightly graze your own.

In truth, you’ve had an enormous crush on Sirius Black since third year, and it had only gotten worse as the years went by. This meant that by now, you had become a bit of an expert at avoiding him at all costs.

But now it was all ruined. Years of hard work spiraling down the drain all because of fucking Amortentia.

Why couldn’t it have been a simple calming draught? Or a shrinking solution? Hell, you would’ve even preferred to make Slughorn his lunch!

And it’s not as if you can sabotage the potion, either! That would mean Sirius’s grade suffering too. You just couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

There was no way out but to lie about what the potion smells of if he asks. Simple! That way no one finds out - more importantly, that way Sirius doesn’t find out - about your silly little crush. Foolproof. Genius. Inspired-!

“Do you like me?”

“What?!” You jolt as panic overtakes you, snapping your head up to meet Sirius’s eyes.

“Do you like me?” he repeats, smiling slightly. “I can’t help but feel like you hate me, seeing as you haven’t looked at me or talked to me at all.”

Internally, you breathe out a sigh of relief, glad you had misinterpreted the question.

“No! I-” Your voice is much too high, you stop to clear your throat. “I do! I do like you, I um... Sorry! I promise I don’t hate you, I guess I’m just... shy.” You finish your blabbering by looking away, pretending to inspect the fire below your cauldron.

When you raise your gaze again Sirius is still looking at you - observing you as if you’re an interesting puzzle that he can’t quite figure out.

“Um!” you quickly turn your attention to the potion, hoping he does the same. “Nearly done, right? Here.” You hold out the wooden spoon for him to take. “Five more clockwise stirs.”

He looks at the spoon but then folds his hands behind his back. “You do it,” he offers instead.

You purse your lips but nod anyway, bringing the wood up to the cauldron’s opening. The pearlescent liquid shifts under the spoon as it touches the surface, and once it’s fully submerged you take a deep breath and start stirring.

One... Two... Three... Four...

As soon as you finish the fifth stir your nose is assaulted by a suffocating aroma of cigarettes and firewhisky. You quickly step back, coughing and tossing the spoon on the table, but the scent follows you.

That doesn’t smell very appealing! Had you done something wrong? You could have sworn you’d followed the recipe exactly!

But then suddenly the scent changes, rapidly becoming much more welcoming. Cigarettes and firewhisky quickly turns into the undertone to something different... Cinnamon shampoo? But also... cologne, and... You could also catch the faint whiff of a brand new leather jacket.

“I think...” you start, eyes trained on the potion that now has delicate tendrils of steam coming off its surface. “I think we did it.” You laugh a bit in astonishment, proud of the fact that you’d managed to make such an advanced potion.

When you turn your head Sirius is looking at you again, in that infuriating way with his gorgeous eyes and stupid grin. You desperately want to look away but just can’t bring yourself to do so.

“How can you tell?” he asks quietly, and you suddenly feel everything else in the room slip away until it’s just him in front of you.

“I... It-”

“What’s it smell like?”

His low voice puts you in such a trance that for a moment you think you’re about to tell him the truth, but you quickly remember what you’d decided on earlier. Lie.

“Ban-” Bananas? No! “Bal-” Balloons? What would that even mean?! “Bu... bblegum. Bubblegum.” You finally land on, and then give a minuscule wince.

Bubblegum?! Although, you suppose it’s better than balloons...

“Bubblegum?” Sirius repeats, brows furrowed.

“Yep! And is that...? Oh! Firewood!” you continue, pulling lies out of thin air. Sirius’s furrowed brows fade away, and an amused smile starts to form on his features instead.

“And, um... And sun cream! Huh, weird.”

“Bubblegum, firewood, and sun cream?” Sirius lists, as if needing clarification from you.

“Well, I-”

“And look what we have here!” Professor Slughorn’s booming voice is suddenly feet away from the two of you, standing right beside your cauldron. “I do believe we have our first finished brew of Amortentia! Although I can’t say I’m surprised, Mr. Black,” Slughorn beams, giving Sirius a knowing look.

Sirius just shuffles awkwardly.

If Slughorn notices Sirius’s discomfort, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he continues, “You know, your father was an exceptional potion maker. Very talented indeed, and you and your brother seem to be following in his footsteps! Although I must say, young Regulus has been a bit unfocused lately, he-”

“Uh, professor?” you speak up when Sirius flinches at his brother’s name.

Slughorn blinks and then looks at you as if he’s just noticed you were there. “Oh- Yes?”

“So... The potion? Did we do it right?”

“Oh, yes, yes, of course! Full marks!” He waves you off, as if you were being silly for even asking. “And ten points for each of you!” he adds for good measure before strolling off, most likely to go torment some other student with a famous surname.

After that, Sirius doesn’t much seem to be up for talking anymore. He focuses all his attention on cleaning up your station, closing up jars of rose petals and pearl dust. You follow his lead, albeit a bit sluggishly.

A few minutes ago you would’ve been okay with Sirius’s silence - happy, even, if it meant you didn’t have to deal with your little crush. But now you would give anything to have him cheerful and smiling again - even if he looked at you with those annoyingly pretty eyes.

Once class is over you’re quick to duck out of the room, desperately wanting to leave Slughorn and Amortentia and the smell of cigarettes and firewhisky behind you.

It’s all over now, everything went according to plan and you can finally go back to doing what you do best. Secretly pining after Sirius Black from a distance.

It’s safe. It’s what you’re good at.

You’re just about ready to forget about this day entirely when you hear a familiar voice calling your name.

...Maybe you were hearing things.

You speed up your steps but then he calls your name again and you’re forced to slow down, waiting for him to catch up. When he does he gives you another winning smile and your heart does a flip.

“Hey, listen,” he starts, and you listen intently. “Sorry about uh... Just... Thanks.”

You’re a bit taken aback. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t a ‘thank you’.

“I... For what?” you ask, genuinely perplexed, but trying not to sound rude.

“Getting Slughorn to leave,” he clarifies with a grin. “He’s always been the same... I’ve been dealing with that for seven years now.”

There’s laughter in his voice but you can tell it’s a bit frayed at the edges. He’s clearly trying - and failing - to play it off as no big deal.

“Sorry,” you offer lamely. “That doesn’t sound fun.”

It really doesn’t.

You don’t know much about Sirius’s family, but you know enough to understand that he probably doesn’t like to be constantly reminded of them. Sharing their last name and seeing his brother in the halls was probably more than enough.

“It’s fine. And, I didn’t just want to thank you,” he says quickly, realizing that the conversation had gotten gloomy.

“Oh?” you voice with a bit of a nervous smile.

“I wanted to ask what it smelled like. The Amortentia.”

There goes your heart again. A million miles a minute.

“What do you mean?” you ask, laughing a bit. “I told you. Bubblegum and um...”

Shoot! What were the other two?!

“Firewood and sun cream?” Sirius prompts, and you nod frantically.

“Yep! That was it!” you’re quick to blurt out. Unconsciously, you pick up your pace, now traveling at a slight speed walk.

Sirius keeps up easily. “But you’re lying,” he accuses, pointing a finger at you, and you swear you start to sweat. “You started coughing when you finished stirring. What did you smell then?”

“I-! Well-! The bubblegum was very pungent, and I-”

“And it looked to me like you were just naming anything that came to your head. Were you about to say balloons at one point?”

“You know, I don’t appreciate being interrogated like this, and quite frankly I- woah!”

You suddenly find that you’re being pulled somewhere by the elbow, and only when you hear a door close behind you do you realize that Sirius has dragged you into an empty classroom. You don’t even have time to take in your surroundings, because Sirius is asking you again:

“So what did you smell?”

You consider lying again, but he’s staring at you with his big, pretty eyes, just waiting for you to tell the truth and all of a sudden you really, really want to.

You thought - you really thought - that you would be content to just go back to crushing on him from a safe distance, but then the Amortentia had happened and he had looked at you different. He was looking at you differently even now - eyes glittering, listening attentively for your answer. And suddenly pining from a distance doesn’t seem so appealing.

You groan in frustration, bringing both of your hands up to cover your face. You just can’t believe what this boy is doing to you.

“It’s so stupid,” you admit, feeling your cheeks head up beneath your palms.

“It’s not,” he assures you, gently wrapping both his hands around each of your wrists, silently asking you to stop covering your face.

You shake you head. “It is, and if you’re asking then you already know.”

“So humor me.”

You abruptly drop your hands to look up at him and, woah - had he always been that close? He’d definitely gotten a bit closer since you’d closed your eyes.

You let out a shaky breath. “Cigarette smoke... Firewhisky...” you trail off. You mean to keep going, but decide to wait for Sirius’s initial reaction first.

Sirius blinks. “Gross,” he says after a beat, and it startles a laugh out of you.

“Yeah, a bit. I thought we messed it up, but then... Um, it changed.”

You search his features for any signs of discomfort, but find none. In fact, Sirius seems to be basking in every word you tell him.

So you keep going, very quietly, “Cologne and...” Without thinking you bring a hand up to rest delicately on his shoulder. “Leather and... Cinnamon...”

You hand moves of it’s own volition, resting on the junction of Sirius’s shoulder and neck and you stare dazedly at it for a moment. You blink and then realize what you’re doing.

You pull your hand away as if you’ve been burned. “Sorry, I-”

But then Sirius is leaning forward fast and - Merlin, was he about to kiss you?!

You panic for a moment, knowing you have to think quick. Your hand darts up again, this time landing on his collarbone, putting your palm flat up against him and pressing firmly, willing him to stop.

He gets the message and quickly pulls back. “I’m sorry-”

“No!” you blurt out so fast that it sounds more like a squeak. “No, no, it’s not that I don’t... I mean I want to, I do I just...” You screw your eyes shut. “I’ve never kissed anyone.”

“Fuck,” Sirius lets out a laugh.

Your heart sinks as you open your eyes. Was he laughing at you?

“Sorry, I’m not laughing at you,” he clarifies quick, as if reading your mind. “For a second I thought the Amortentia was a big coincidence and you didn’t like me at all.” he smiles, and you realize his laugh was a laugh of relief.

“No! I-!” You groan again and lean against the closed door. Was it confession day or something?! “No, I’ve... I’ve liked you since third year.”

“What about first and second?” he fires back quick, grinning stupidly.

You don’t miss a beat. “I was scared of you, then. You were too loud.”

He barks out a laugh and you suddenly feel the urge to look away, feeling as if you’re intruding. And then you remember you’re not. It’s just you and Sirius here. So many times you’d seen that laugh from a distance, across a crowded Great Hall but now it was just for you.

Sirius speaks up once his laughter dies down. “Look, you don’t have to-”

“No, I want to-”

“I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable-”

“You haven’t! I just-”

“We can just go to class-”

“Sirius!” you say sharply, and he looks at you with wide eyes. “Kiss me. Please,” you say with a laugh, wanting him to shut up already.

He grins and then wastes no time in leaning forward, taking your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours. You smell it again - cinnamon shampoo, cologne, new leather, and - very faintly - cigarettes and firewhisky.

You melt into the kiss, bringing you hands up to rest at the nape of his neck, idly playing with the strands of hair you find. It’s awkward at first, but you try your best to relax into it, following Sirius’s lead and just doing whatever comes naturally.

He pulls away and you slowly blink your eyes back open, willing yourself out of the trance Sirius’s lips had just put you in.

“Fast learner,” he whispers, smiling, and you laugh.

“We should get to class...” you suggest halfheartedly, not stepping away or making any move to leave.

“Yeah,” Sirius agrees, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Probably...”

You both look at each other for a few beats, but then you each break into a smile.

And he kisses you again.

taglist <3 // @isxfisticated @l-adysansa @tomshollandz

#requests #sirius black fluff #sirius black x reader #sirius black

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miracleonice87 · 4 years ago

Text

’tis the damn season

an Auston Matthews song fic

a/n: based on the absolute masterpiece that is ’tis the damn season by Taylor Swift from evermore. This one was not on my WIP list but came over me as soon as I heard the song when the album dropped. also have no idea how it became my longest piece yet, by far (as in 12k+ whoops). obviously, I do not own any of the music/lyrics to this song nor any other I write about.

summary: Auston Matthews and his ex-girlfriend are reunited in their hometown years after their difficult breakup.

warnings: swearing, alcohol, allusions to sex, a delicate balance of angst and fluff. a bit of a slow burn, if you want to call it that.

_____

You might have been one of the few people on the planet who disagreed with the phrase, “There’s no place like home for the holidays.” At least, for the last few years, that hadn’t exactly been your sentiment.

But, you were home anyway, after a few weeks of your mother’s guilt tripping and your father’s repeated phone calls. And, admittedly, you were enjoying your quiet time at home with your parents.

After helping your mom bake a few dozen cookies for the Christmas Eve party they were throwing tomorrow night, you wandered upstairs to your childhood bedroom to change out of your flour-covered attire and maybe squeeze in a nap. An undeniable perk of staying with your parents during the holidays — so many opportunities to sleep. As you pulled on a well-worn, long-sleeved ASU t-shirt you found hanging in your closet, your phone rang.

You groaned and swore to yourself that if it was your editor again, you were quitting. She’d already interrupted your time off at least once throughout each of your three days at home thus far — your first week of vacation in the two and a half years you’d been with the fashion magazine. You rolled your eyes and reached for the sounding device on your bed, then recoiled when you saw the contact name — or rather, initials — on the screen.

Oh, god.

Even worse, the years-old contact photo popped up behind the name — a picture of the two of you lying together on the shore on your vacation four years ago, right after the draft, when you both still held onto the naive belief that nothing that had just happened in his world would change things between the two of you.

“Shit,” you whispered, covering your mouth while anxiety coursed through your veins.

You couldn’t just not answer. Right? The two of you were on decent terms, though you couldn’t quite remember the last time you’d spoken — probably seven, eight months ago. You had no good reason to ignore his call.

And after all... you were the one who had ended things.

You cleared your throat and, trying to coach yourself into mustering up some semblance of courage, quickly repeated, “Okay, okay, okay, okay.” Then, like ripping off a bandaid, you hurriedly tapped the green button and pressed the phone to your ear.

“Matthews,” you greeted curtly — tentatively.

“Kels. Come over,” Auston said abruptly, though you could hear the smile in his voice. “I know you’re home.”

You squinted and glanced around your room, racking your brain as you tried to figure out how exactly your ex-boyfriend knew your current whereabouts.

“What?” you asked, puzzled, not to mention slightly shocked that he was even interested in seeing you in person — though some part of you was, indeed, grateful for that. “How did you even know I was in Scottsdale?”

“Uh, your Instagram story, my dear,” he said, obviously amused. “You posted this morning from that new coffee shop between the Methodist church and our old school building. Remember?”

You rubbed a hand over your face, suddenly regretting adding him to your close friends list on Instagram six weeks ago after a few glasses of wine with your girlfriends.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, eliciting a chuckle from Auston.

“Yeah, don’t flatter yourself thinking I sit around and stalk you, sweetheart,” he teased. “I thought about replying but I didn’t wanna slide into your DMs and look like a fuckboy.” He paused, and you opened your mouth to make a halfhearted wisecrack that you didn’t truly mean, but before you could speak, he added, “Plus you probably get so many DMs, I’m sure mine would just get lost in the shuffle.”

Again, you rolled your eyes. “Matthews,” you repeated, whinier now.

“C’mon, Kels. Just come over,” he whined back. “I just got in last night. I’m staying at my parents’ house. My sisters nearly busted down my door when they saw you were back in town, plus I know my mom and dad would love to see you.”

Suddenly, two decades’ worth of memories that you had long ago pushed to the back of your mind flooded all at once to the forefront of your consciousness. Sleepovers watching Disney Channel movies and eating peach rings with Alex and Brey. Brian scooping you up in his arms after a nasty tumble off your bike on their street, propping you on the kitchen counter as he bandaged the scrapes on your knees, Auston never leaving your side nor letting go of your hand. Road trips with Ema to watch Auston play in countless tournaments, with you doing homework in the front seat while Ema sang along to the radio. Matthews family dinners eating Ema’s famous chicken tortilla soup. Vacations and carpool and pickup basketball games and shopping for prom dresses and just the mundane, everyday routine you had been part of for so many years.

And those were just the memories that involved his sisters, his parents. You didn’t dare let your mind uncover the buried memories of him, and him alone.

You missed them. Sometimes you missed them all so much that it made your heart physically ache and your stomach drop and your mouth go dry.

So, you drew a long, deep breath, and against your better judgment, eventually said, “Okay. Fine. But you have to send me your parents’ address. I haven’t been to the new Matthews McMansion.”

Auston huffed on the other end. “So mean to me.”

_____

It was certainly a far cry from the modest old ranch-style house where Auston had spent his childhood.

As you pulled up to the sprawling estate in the bougie part of town and cut your engine, you whispered, “What the fuck am I doing here...”

And still, after a quick check of your makeup in your rearview mirror, you got out of the car, closed your door and pushed your sunglasses to the top of your head, sighing as you took in the four vehicles parked in front of yours in the roundabout driveway, none of which you had ever seen before. Audi, Mercedes, BMW, Porsche. Well, you could guess which one was Auston’s.

You walked up the stone sidewalk and slipped your aviators into your purse — it was only then that you noticed that your hands were trembling.

You cleared your throat and exhaled sharply, willing your nerves to subside, as you arrived at the door and pressed the button on its frame, sounding an elaborate chime inside.

“I got it,” you immediately heard a familiar voice call, and you took a startled step backward as you saw his figure approaching through the decorative glass panes outlining the doorway. As he pulled open the door, the flutter you’d tried your hardest to avoid feeling for three years took flight once more in your belly.

“Matthews,” you greeted again, arms crossed in front of you in hopes of hiding your shaking hands.

“Why’d ya bother to ring the doorbell, you nutjob?” Auston asked with a broad smile.

Before you could throw a snide remark back at him, he pulled you into himself, one arm snaking around your mid-back and the other hand cradling your head to his chest. Inadvertently, you exhaled contentedly, and you swore you felt Auston tighten his grip on you then. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you let yourself relax into him for longer than you had intended. He just felt so… familiar. Broad. Strong. Comforting.

He was just… Auston. A thousand things had changed for the two of you, but the way you felt in his presence hadn’t changed since you were a little girl.

You inhaled his cologne, and you noticed that he was doing just the same — breathing in your long-worn Chanel No. 5 perfume, the same kind he used to save up all year to buy you each Christmas.

At that memory, you snapped back to reality and extricated yourself from his embrace, leaving him looking slightly disappointed, though still pleased with your greeting.

“Hi,” you spoke simply as you stared up at him, then chuckled at how stupid that sounded.

“Hi,” he mimicked, head bobbling and eyes widening, causing you both to fall into a giddy fit of nervous laughter over nothing at all.

Just then, you saw Ema’s head pop out from beneath an arched opening toward the back of the house — probably leading to the kitchen, you assumed. Ema was always in the kitchen.

“I thought I heard your laugh,” she sang. You couldn’t help but beam, and Auston smiled and moved out of your way so that you had a direct pathway to his mother. Taking advantage of that, you made a beeline for the petite woman you considered your second mom, already feeling emotion bubbling up in your throat as tears blurred your vision.

“Oh, mija,” Ema said, her voice tight as she met you in the middle of the grand entryway and gathered you into her arms. “Te extrañamos,” (we miss you) she said sincerely.

Auston cupped the back of his neck and quickly looked away then, fearful that he may just shed tears of his own.

You sniffled and murmured, “Los extrañé a todos mucho,” (I missed you all so much) into Ema’s shoulder as she smoothed her hand lovingly over the back of your head.

When you finally parted, moving past the brief sadness of the reunion, Ema still held tightly to your hands, extending her arms so that she could see you better.

“You look more beautiful than ever!” she exclaimed, and you dropped your head bashfully at her compliment. “California is treating you well.”

You nodded. “For the most part,” you remarked with a sigh. Ema glanced quickly from your face to her son’s and back again, deciding not to dwell for too long on that loaded response.

“Well,” she pivoted with a click of her tongue. “You look great. Now come, come! I know Auston’s going to want to steal you away from me, not that I blame him, but I just put on some tea, so let’s sit and have some first.”

“Ma…” Auston protested lightheartedly. Ema wagged her finger at him. “Shh! Mijo! My long lost daughter has returned. Give me ten minutes for a cup of tea with her.”

Auston’s lips parted at her use of the word “daughter,” not that he should have been surprised by it, and you tossed him an animated shrug as Ema pulled you down the hallway back from whence she came. You were right — it was the kitchen, and it was a spectacular one at that.

“Holy…” you trailed off as Ema patted one of the leather barstools at the enormous island in the center of the room. You took a seat, pulling your cross body bag from your shoulder and placing it on the island, and commented, “This kitchen is incredible, Ema. I’m sure you love spending time here.”

Ema nodded and excitedly launched into stories of using all the appliances and gadgets she had never owned before, walking back to the teakettle on the stove as Auston sat down on the nearest barstool, feeling as though he could simply be dreaming, hallucinating, that you were here, sitting with him in his parents’ kitchen. But when you noticed him taking the seat next to yours, you tossed him a classic Kelsey smile and nudged his shoulder with your own, and he felt just slightly more confident that this was reality. Unable to resist your magnetism, which hadn’t faded with time but seemed instead to have only grown stronger, he squeezed your knee beneath the countertop, just as Ema approached with a cup of tea in hand for you.

Choosing to react instead to Ema rather than her son, you grinned and thanked her, feeling Auston’s eyes on you as you lifted the mug to your lips and took small sips, Ema still prattling on happily from the other side of the kitchen. You eventually cast a sidelong glance Auston’s way, accompanied by an amused smirk, the combination of which left him beaming as he looked away from you and back toward his mother, who now approached with two more cups of tea.

“Thanks, Ma,” he said as he wrapped his hands around the mug she offered him.

“You’re welcome, mijo,” Ema replied. “Now Kelsey, honey, how long are you in town?”

“Uh, just until the day after Christmas,” you replied, swirling a finger along the ceramic rim of your mug. “This is the most time I’ve taken off since I started at the magazine,” you admitted with a hint of embarrassment.

Ema nodded. “Your mother said you haven’t made it home for a while. I know they keep you pretty busy there. Is that why you don’t visit so much?” she asked unassumingly.

Auston dropped his head and shuffled his feet awkwardly against the tile floor, and your eyes flickered to him as you racked your brain for an answer that wasn’t a complete lie but also didn’t unmask the whole truth — which was that being in a town that held so much history with your ex was simply too suffocating to bear, even for a quick visit with your parents. So, you typically just stayed in California where you could throw yourself into your work as a fashion writer at a well-known publication and operate under the illusion that you had moved on. From Scottsdale, from Auston, from your life before Los Angeles.

And especially from Toronto.

But the problem was, when the night fell and the lights all faded and you were left to face the truth, you knew in your heart that that’s really all it was — an illusion.

And from 2,500 miles away, Auston knew it, too. He knew it because he was living the same lie.

“Uh, yeah,” you replied sheepishly. “That’s the gist of it. Just, uh, just hard to get away sometimes. My parents usually come out to visit me instead since their schedules are, uh, a little more flexible.”

“Right,” Ema said skeptically as you took a long pull from your mug, despite the hot liquid singing your tongue and making your eyes water. “Well, either way, it’s so good to finally see you here,” she added warmly.

“It’s good to see you too,” you breathed, honesty dripping from that answer.

Auston finally looked at you again, giving you an understanding smile. Even that smallest of gestures made you dizzy.

“So,” you said as you moved away from the topic, sitting up a bit straighter. “Where are the girls? Where’s Brian?”

“Golfing,” Auston answered. “Like always,” he added with a chuckle.

“Why am I not surprised?” you teased, making both Ema and Auston laugh.

“They begged Auston to come with them, but he turned them down,” Ema informed you. “And now we know why.” She lifted her eyebrows and took another sip of her tea as Auston shook his head.

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” he joked. “But no, they’ll be back soon. They can’t wait to see you.”

You brightened at that, not having seen the Matthews girls in nearly as long as it had been since you’d seen Auston himself, finding it easier to breathe when they weren’t nearby, reminding you of him with their every mannerism. And yet, you’d found that starving yourself of their friendship and their company ached nearly just as much.

“I can’t wait either,” you said through a distant smile.

“And Dad will probably cry more than Mom did when he sees you,” Auston predicted, lifting his mug. Ema swatted at his arm.

“Don’t start with me!” she warned. “I happened to see you choking up out there, too.”

You turned to Auston and raised an accusing brow at him. He simply chuckled into his tea and looked away, and the three of you sat in silence for a beat.

“Come on,” he finally said as he rested his mug on the island, nodding his head in the direction of the sliding glass door at the back of the house. “Lemme show you the patio.”

You nodded, knowing full well that showing off the backyard was not the real reason he was inviting you outside. Despite that knowledge, you hopped off the barstool, put your mug in the sink, and kissed Ema on the cheek as you passed her.

“Thanks for the tea, mamacita,” you said with a smile, squeezing her shoulders. “Anytime, mi amor,” she replied, sending a wink your way as you turned to follow Auston.

He slid open the door and motioned for you to step through it first. When he saw his mother watching you through the kitchen window, he gave her a knowing smirk, and she put her hands up in innocence. But as she watched you two walk out onto the patio through the glass, she breathed a silent prayer to any higher power who would listen that maybe, just maybe, you would finally come home.

Not to Scottsdale, no. Home to Auston.

Meanwhile, you were trailing your hand along the hammock near the pool, taking in the scene and trying to remember to breathe. When you heard him close the door, you turned back to Auston, your eyes floating around the backyard.

“Nice setup they’ve got back here,” you grinned, Auston chuckling with his hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts.

“Yeah, it’s even nicer in the summer,” he commented. You nodded, stepping closer to the pool and lowering yourself to sit on the edge, patting the space next to you as an invitation for Auston to do the same.

“We have chairs, ya know,” he grumbled as he took a seat. “Not all of us like to sit on the floor all day doing yoga.”

You sneered at him. “Oh, yeah, that’s what I do all day long,” you said sarcastically.

“Well, you used to, anyway,” he mumbled.

You gulped as visions of him watching you do precarious yoga poses on the living room floor of his apartment flickered in your mind’s eye, and then, once again, you moved right along.

“So… how’s it going, Matthews? How’s life?” you prompted, not even sure if you truly wanted to hear the answer to your inquiry.

He stretched out his long legs so that his feet were dangling above the water as he wondered where to even begin.

“It’s… it’s good,” he said. “Overall. It’s nice to be home for a few days. Needed that. I missed it. Missed my family. Missed…” he stopped himself, “…other things,” he added under his breath.

You chewed the inside of your cheek and decided to avoid the path he was taking this down. “How’s hockey?” you asked instead.

Auston shifted noticeably at the mention of his career, still painfully aware that, despite the successes it had brought him, it had ultimately caused the demise of your relationship.

“Hockey is… hockey,” he said. “Honestly it’s good on the whole. But the team’s not having the greatest year so far, which is rough.” You nodded, knowing better than most that the Toronto media operated at a different level of intensity and scrutiny than that of nearly all other markets, especially when the Leafs were losing, and especially when new blood was added into the equation, like Auston’s had been when they drafted him.

Like yours had been when you moved there with him.

The spotlight they shone on you — and the subsequent attention you received from so-called fans who took to the internet to question your intentions and integrity — had been far more than you bargained for.

Just as you were about to ask about how the guys on the team were faring, Auston spoke again.

“I think about calling you every time we come to LA, Kels,” he said, fixing his eyes on the neighbor’s house in the distance because he was simply unable to look at you while he admitted it. With a sniff, he added, “I’m not gonna lie about that.”

“Why don’t you?” you asked after a beat, maybe unfairly, studying his familiar profile. His features were the same, of course, but he looked… more mature. Older. Wiser. All that jazz. Auston shrugged, still not capable of looking at you.

“Just didn’t think you’d want me to,” he answered dejectedly. Your heart sank into your stomach. Given the things you’d said when you left him nearly three years ago, you could hardly blame him for that one.

“Well,” you started with a sigh. “I guess we could call it even then, because I think about coming to see you play every time you come to LA. Or Anaheim. Or even Vegas. And obviously Phoenix.”

“Well why didn’t you just call me asking for free tickets then,” he said in a tone that he tried to disguise as facetious, but you heard the hurt seeping into his words. “Everybody else I know in any NHL city does.”

You felt a fierce sense of protectiveness then, clenching your jaw as you tried to calm your irate thoughts. You watched him pick at the sleeve of his black Raiders crewneck and felt deeply for him — this man you’d loved since he was a little boy.

“Do they really? Still?” you asked in monotone.

Auston nodded, squinting in the sunlight. “Yup,” he answered, popping the ‘p.’ “Every game.”

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, covering your eyes with your hand and pushing into your temples. You blew out a long breath. “Fuck. I’m really sorry about that. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, but I… it just sucks.”

Auston shrugged. “It’s not your fault,” he stated. “Sometimes I do it, sometimes I don’t. Kinda depends on whether the person’s actually talked to me lately.”

You nodded as he chuckled sadly, and you felt your chest tighten. “Well,” you began, clearing your throat. “I guess I wouldn’t qualify then because we haven’t talked much.”

Auston looked at you with intensity surging in his deep brown eyes, and you wanted to look away but found that you couldn’t.

“You always qualify,” he said seriously. “You’re one of the only people that qualifies.”

You bit down, hard, on your bottom lip and grappled internally with the weight of his comment. Then he said sarcastically, “Besides, I know you’re only after my money. I mean, you forced me to buy you that Louis bag the week after I got drafted.”

Your jaw dropped at his joke, and you scoffed indignantly. “Oh, yeah, the one you finally had to hide in my closet after I kept sneaking it back into your car because I wanted you to return it?” you corrected. “Yeah, ya caught me. You know me, Aus. Such a gold digger.”

Auston had started laughing halfway through your quip, but stopped suddenly. You gave him a questioning look, and he paused before answering.

“You called me Aus,” he stated with a smile he tried and failed to hide. “You went back to calling me Matthews after we broke up. But you… you just called me Aus again.”

“Yeah, well...” you grumbled, “Don’t get too excited.” You tossed him a smirk and he mirrored it, basking in the comfort of the moment.

“So whaddya think of the place? Not bad, right?” he finally asked, glancing around the property, back at the house, then settling his focus back on you.

You shrugged. “A little gaudy for my taste, but...” you began, and Auston shook his head bemusedly, knowing he set himself up for that one.

“No, it’s great. I can see how much your mom loves it. In all seriousness, I think it’s amazing, everything you’ve done for your family. Your parents. It’s pretty incredible,” you said earnestly. “I don’t think I said it enough when we were together, but, I’m really proud of you, Aus. And I don’t just mean about the hockey.”

Auston nodded soberly, turning his head to look you in the eye.

“I know you don’t,” he said quietly. “Thanks, Kels. It means a lot coming from you. More, uh… more than you know.”

And then, before you could think twice about doing so, you reached out your hand to rest atop his, feeling its familiar warmth as your fingertips grazed the raised veins there. Auston swallowed hard, blinking at where your hands now met, and slowly wrapped your fingers in his, giving them a squeeze. You exchanged long stares before you eventually slammed on the brakes in your brain and carried on.

“So, you just casually hang out with Justin Bieber now?” you asked, reaching your palms behind you and leaning back. “And the wildest shit is that I saw it first when he posted it, not you.”

Auston chuckled, looking down at his slides and — ironically — Drew socks combo. In his signature way, he halted his laughter on a dime and his face turned somber as he said dryly, “Yeah, I’m like really famous now, yanno?”

You sighed in annoyance, rolling your eyes as you looked skyward, feeling Auston’s gaze turn to you. You let it go for a few moments before shifting only your eyes toward his.

“What?” you asked accusingly. You could tell by the faraway smirk on his face that he was lost in a memory.

“Remember you had posters of him hung up all over your room in like middle school? From Tiger Beat magazine and shit? And now I play video games and mini sticks with the guy,” Auston said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, and if you ever tell him about that, I’ll end your life,” you threatened, shoving at his arm and attempting to ignore how much his biceps had grown since you last touched them. And then you were slamming the door shut on a rush of memories of having him beneath your touch — some innocent, but most intimate.

Auston saw it in your eyes — the place you went for a moment — as you dropped your hand back to the concrete beneath you. He knew where you went because, so often, he went there, too.

He held your gaze and promised, “Your secret’s safe with me. You know that.”

Only a hint of a smile graced your lips for a fleeting moment as you ran your fingers through your hair. Suddenly, you felt the heaviness of the history between the two of you closing in — smothering you, like it always did. Auston watched helplessly, wishing it didn’t have to be this hard.

And then, in a flash, like he so often did to save you from your swirling thoughts, he casually changed the topic as he commented, “Your hair’s shorter. You look like your mom. In a good way.”

Blushing, you breathed a laugh through your nose. “Thanks,” you said softly. “I think it’s the highlights, too.”

“It is,” Auston confirmed, and then — damn him — he reached out and looped a lock from the front of your face between his thumb and forefinger, the way he had done a thousand times before, usually mid-conversation, always absentmindedly. This time, you knew, as you forced your eyes to meet his, it was a bit more calculated. “I really like it,” he told you.

You nodded, searching his eyes to try and determine whether he had any idea what this — this moment, this visit, this day — really was.

“If you’re gonna ask me what we’re doing,” Auston spoke, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth for a second, “then I have to tell you I have no idea.”

Again, damn him. After all this time, it was like he still lived inside your brain and had read your every thought like the morning paper before you even had the chance to convey it. Which used to save you in a lot of ways. Now it felt kind of… intrusive. But somehow you didn’t mind.

“I had no idea what I was even gonna say when I called you. All I know,” he continued, still flipping the strand of hair around his fingers, “is that I really wanted to see you, and that I was really happy when you came, and that I’m really enjoying this time with you.”

You nodded, and as he pulled his hand from your face, his thumb brushed your jawline just slightly, and that touch alone sent a bolt of lightning through you. Auston smiled softly as he said barely above a whisper, “Okay, now it’s your turn to say something.”

You heaved a sigh, tipping your head back with eyes closed and soaking in the sunshine. “I don’t expect you to know, Aus,” you finally spoke. “I was just so... so shocked, I guess, that you wanted to see me. It’s been so long, I just... I didn’t know when I would see you again.”

“We’ve talked though,” Auston pointed out with a sigh to match yours, pulling a knee to his chest and wrapping his arms around his bent leg. “FaceTimed. Texted.”

You rolled your head toward him. “It’s not the same,” you reasoned softly, hesitantly reaching out your hand to tuck some of his black hair behind his ear. He licked his lips swiftly and placed a peck to your thumb before you slowly withdrew your hand.

“You’re right,” Auston conceded. “Definitely not the same.”

“Uh, sorry to interrupt...”

You were snapped out of your private moment by one person’s voice and another person’s squeal behind you.

“Oh, my god!” you yelled as you shot up from the side of the pool, Alexandria and Breyana already scampering toward you from the back door.

“It’s about goddamn time you came back to us!” Alex shrieked, wrapping her arms around you tightly. “I missed you, little sister,” she cooed, rubbing her hands across your back, and you hummed in agreement.

“I missed you, Al,” you replied, kissing her temple as you stepped back to greet the youngest of the Matthews clan.

“And you. My baby!” you exclaimed, pulling Breyana into your arms. “The true star athlete of the family,” you teased as she squeezed your waist.

“Damn straight,” Breyana giggled. “I missed you, Kels. I can’t believe you’re here!”

You pulled away, glancing behind you as you saw Auston slowly approaching out of the corner of your eye. “Me either,” you admitted, eyes widening dramatically as the girls snickered at you. “How was golf?”

“Brey smoked us, no surprise,” Alex replied. “But shut up about the golf. Tell us what’s going on with you two.”

“Alex!” Auston warned, shooting her a glare. “Please don’t.”

Alex gave him her best older sister roll of the eyes and crossed her arms over her chest as Breyana looked between the two of you.

“Nope,” Alex refused. “Not until you tell me what’s up. C’mon, spill.”

“We’re just...” you began, swiveling to look Auston’s way as he smirked down at you, happy to let you flounder in this one all on your own. “Visiting,” you finished, nodding once at Alex, pleased with your choice of verbiage.

“Honestly, you guys…” Breyana lamented.

“Visiting, huh?” Alex echoed, growing even more suspicious. “Yeah, okay. Sure. Wear protection. Anyways, uh—“

“Alex!” Auston repeated, this time through clenched teeth. “I swear to god...”

“Anyways, like I was saying,” Alex continued. “Your parents invited us all to their house tomorrow night for the Christmas party. I didn’t think you were gonna be there — does this mean you will?”

You nodded, causing Alex to clap excitedly. “I’ll be there with bells on,” you confirmed. “I already made my shortbread cookies.” All three siblings moaned in delight at the mention of your famous treats.

“Hell yeah! Plus that means we won’t be the only ones escaping to the balcony to drink,” Breyana commented.

“Brey, you’re like twelve,” Auston taunted, earning him a sharp elbow to the ribs from his younger sister. “You don’t get to drink with us.”

“Whatever,” she retorted. “Like you guys weren’t sneaking Mom and Dad’s liquor when you were younger than me.”

“Anyways,” Alex said yet again, clearing her throat. “We’re gonna go back inside now and shower, and just, uh, leave you guys to whatever it is you were doing beside the pool there. ‘Kay? ‘Kay. See ya,” she sang, spinning Breyana by the shoulders and guiding her inside, both girls whispering and giggling all the while. “Kels, I’ll call you tonight — you can tell me all about it!” Alex called over her shoulder, sliding the door closed.

You turned to see a pink tinge to Auston’s cheeks as he muttered, “Sorry,” with a dry laugh. You shook your head.

“No, don’t be,” you insisted, waving him off as you took a seat at the glass picnic table beside you, Auston following your lead. “It wouldn’t be a visit to the Matthews house without Alex torturing the both of us,” you teased.

Auston nodded. “Very true,” he said, and you knew he didn’t want to stop there, but he couldn’t seem to find what he did want to say next.

Instead, you ventured, “So what are your—”

At the very same time, he started, “Kels, would you maybe—”

You both chuckled at yourselves, locking eyes. This certainly wasn’t the first time this had happened in conversations — far from it. And usually, you were about to say the very same thing.

So, you motioned for him to speak first.

He toyed with the band of his watch as he said nervously, “I was just gonna say, uh, would you maybe wanna go to dinner with me? Tonight?”

You sat back in your chair, smirking, fully aware that you were teetering on a damn fine line.

“I was hoping you might say that.”

_____

An hour later, after reuniting with Brian (Auston was right — he cried more than the rest of his family combined when he hugged you), you headed home to change for dinner. As you pulled away from the Matthews house, you were thankful that Auston had offered to follow you in his own vehicle so that he could drive you to dinner, which in turn gave each of you a few minutes to breathe.

Surprisingly, your mother didn’t seem at all shocked to see the guest you had brought back with you. You had told her that you were going to visit the Matthews’, not specifying which member of the family had invited you, though she could venture a guess. When she watched two vehicles pull into the driveway side by side, she inhaled an excited gasp, a smile overwhelming her features as she came to meet you at the front door, just as you laughed at a lame joke Auston cracked about your driving.

Your mother nearly tackled him in a hug, which he warmly returned. He shared a similar bond with your mom to the one you shared with his, which was yet another piece that fit perfectly into the puzzle that was your relationship. So many pieces fit, and so few didn’t, but that still didn’t make things whole.

But, you ignored that thought — and so many others — as you left the two to chat, bounding up the stairs to change, now grateful that you’d brought more than one nice option to wear to the Christmas party tomorrow, considering the rest of your suitcase was filled with comfy loungewear.

How could you have ever planned for this?

After touching up your hair and makeup and putting on the more understated of the dressy outfits you’d brought, you returned to the kitchen where your mom and Auston stood huddled at the counter, near empty glasses of red wine in front of them both.

“Already boozin’, huh?” you teased as you folded your arms in front of you. They chuckled, and Auston glanced at you over his shoulder with a smile. When he laid eyes on you, though, he stood straight up and turned to face you, making no attempt to hide his stare, even in front of your mother. Without taking his gaze off of you, he threw back his final sip of wine and blew out a flustered breath. You knew you were blushing, so you walked past him to your mother, pressing your cheek to hers for an air kiss so as not to mess up your lipstick.

“Sorry to take your favorite boy away from you, but we should head out,” you announced as you looked back at Auston. He cleared his throat, walking to the other side of the countertop to hug your mom again, thanking her for the wine and something else that you didn’t quite catch.

He followed you down the hall, his hand ghosting along the small of your back as you reached for your purse on the coat rack. You looked back and blew a final kiss to your mom, who waved as she watched Auston open the passenger door of his car and help you in — both of you giggling as you crouched into the low-riding vehicle in your skirt and high heels. Like a mom of a young teen, she stood at the window and watched the two of you drive down the block and out of sight, hands clasped together wistfully as she turned back to finish placing the final decorative touches in the living room ahead of tomorrow.

Just a minute later, your dad came through the door from the grocery store, calling for her, sounding nearly breathless.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, smoothing the silk ribbon wrapped around the banister.

“Marie… did I just see Auston driving Kelsey down the road in a Porsche?” he gaped, his brow furrowed, thumb pointed over his shoulder.

She laughed, looking downward as she nodded.

“Yes, you did,” she confirmed, then looked at him as she felt tears welling. “Jack... I can’t say for sure, but I think maybe the girl is finally coming to her senses.”

A smile spread slowly across your father’s face and he came toward your mother, wrapping her in a hug.

“Well…” he began, kissing her temple. “Then maybe we’ll get our Christmas wish after all.”

“And what’s that?” your mom asked.

“For her to be happy again.”

_____

“You look amazing, Kels,” Auston said seriously from the driver’s seat. “Gorgeous.”

You gave him a coy smile and briefly inspected the outfit he’d chosen before leaving his own parents’ house.

“Thanks,” you said softly. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

Auston grinned and decided he would take that.

Ten minutes later, he was pulling up to the restaurant you had already known he’d had in mind when he asked you to dinner, without even needing to discuss it. The same Italian restaurant where you’d celebrated infinite birthdays, anniversaries, Valentine’s Days, and other milestones. You fell into easy conversation during drinks and appetizers before Auston told a comical story about his teammates which led to an in that he knew he needed to take.

“They miss you, you know,” Auston stated cautiously between bites of his shrimp scampi. “Mo. Mitchy. Especially Steph.”

You folded and unfolded the seams of the cloth napkin in your lap, considering your response.

“I miss them, too,” you eventually murmured. “So be real with me. You really like it there now?” you leveled with him.

His demeanor shifted — in a good way — as he replied. “It’s honestly great. I mean, you’d love it there now, Kels. I swear,” Auston said, shaking his head in wonder. “’M not just saying that. I mean, the hype is still there, yes, but it’s not at the level it was when I first started. Mitchy and Mo and Willy and I, all us guys who kinda started out together, we’ve all sort of found our groove with the media and stuff, and for the most part, it’s great. I have a feeling it’ll just keep getting better, too.”

You watched his eyes light up as he spoke about Toronto, relief and happiness washing over you. It didn’t seem so long ago that Auston was curled up on the couch, near tears, head in your lap, feeling incapable of living up to the expectations set for him — almost buckling under the immense pressure, the likes of which he had never felt before.

You let out a teary chuckle, swiping at a teardrop on your cheek that had fallen as he answered, taking you by surprise.

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear that, Aus,” you told him, holding your hand over your heart as it soared within you.

Auston nodded slightly, and his lips twitched into a sad smile. “There’s still something that doesn’t feel right though,” he confessed, though it didn’t feel much like a secret. “Still something missing.”

“And what’s that?” you asked timidly as you lifted your wine glass, excited for and fearful of his answer at all once.

“You.”

Forcing yourself to swallow your merlot so you didn’t spray it across the table, you put your fist to your mouth, holding it there while you attempted to process his latest, and most brazen, admission.

“I mean… look, there have been a few others,” Auston continued with a mindless shrug. “But never anything serious, and never anyone that I’m not constantly comparing to you in every possible way,” he told you, rolling his fingertips on the table and focusing on his hand as he spoke. “Feel kinda bad actually, because I know they all thought it was something more than it really was, and then I was always the one to break things off. I didn’t purposely lead them on, I just... once I got into it, I realized my feelings just weren’t in it.”

You opened your mouth to speak, hands limp in your lap, and then closed your lips in a tight line as you mulled over his words. You inhaled a shuddering breath and looked down, feeling the same shame that had overcome you countless times before come back again.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered without lifting your eyes.

“Kelsey…” Auston spoke firmly. “Look at me. Please.”

You did as he asked, lips pursed, and were met with his adoring, enchanting gaze, always too forgiving of your faults and mistakes.

“It’s okay,” he promised sincerely. “I understand. Trust me on that. I’ve always understood where you were coming from, but it seemed like there was just… just nothing I could do about it. Nothing I could do to make you stay, or to bring you back. That’s what made it so hard. That’s what still makes it so hard.”

You nodded. “Well — what you’re doing right now — whatever this is… it’s working,” you divulged, knowing this was a dangerous game and no longer caring.

“Is it?” Auston asked, a full-blown smile appearing now on his lips. Those lips you missed so damn much.

“Yeah,” you giggled, both of you grinning. “God, I missed your smile, Aus.”

“My smile?” he asked incredulously, then scoffed. “Your smile fucking breaks my heart, Kelsey,” he told you in his deepest tone, biting at the inside of his cheek as if he was trying not to lean across the table and kiss you full on the mouth right then and there.

And now, as you saw that look in his eye that you knew so well, you knew two things.

One, you were fucked. And two, you were in desperate need of a minute.

“I, uh, I gotta run to the ladies’ room,” you told him, standing, feeling unsteady as you pushed in your chair. Auston nodded knowingly and said, “Take all the time you need.”

You brushed a hand over his shoulder, the other holding tightly to your crossbody bag, as you attempted to walk in a straight line toward the restrooms across the restaurant floor. You were only one glass of wine deep, yet this night was making your head feel as fuzzy as if you’d just done a row of shots. Once safely inside the bathroom, you tossed your purse on the counter and held tightly to the sink to try and settle yourself, taking deep breaths in an attempt to control your racing pulse.

Just then, you heard a toilet flush, and your sense of solitude was quickly shattered when you saw a familiar blonde figure step out of the bathroom and lean closer upon recognizing you.

“Kelsey!” she exclaimed, moving toward the sink.

“Holly! Oh, my god,” you laughed as you squeezed her upper arm.

“Here, let me wash my hands and then I’ll give you a real hug,” she promised as you both giggled.

You had been a cheerleader throughout high school, and Holly, a year your senior, had been captain the year before you took on the title. Though you two weren’t particularly close, you had always looked up to her, and you’d kept in touch for a couple of years after you graduated before mostly falling off, save for the occasional hype comment or story reply on social media.

“How are you, girl? You look gorgeous!” she said as she threw her arms around you.

“So do you! I’m doing well, thanks. Home for the holidays,” you offered as she stepped back and nodded.

“Yeah, that’s great! Me, too,” she replied, then smiled mischievously at you. “To be totally honest, uh… I saw you when you were being seated. I didn’t wanna be weird or like, intrude, or anything but… I saw you come in with Auston. Are you guys like… back together?”

“Huh? Oh, no, no,” you laughed nervously, feeling yourself blush under her questioning. “We’re not back together. Just, uh, just two old friends, uh, catching up, ya know?” you reasoned nonchalantly as you reached for your bag.

“Oh. Right. Well... ‘tis the damn season, am I right?” Holly said with a chuckle, her own cheeks slightly flushed as she feared maybe she had made you uncomfortable by addressing the elephant in the room.

“Right,” you nodded cordially, then took a step toward her and patted her hand, wanting to make sure she didn’t think you were upset by her comment. “It’s so good to see you, Hol. I’m gonna head back out there—“

“Kelsey, wait,” Holly said urgently, grasping your arm before you could turn away from her. You blinked at her several times, glancing between her grip and her face as you waited to hear what had gotten into her.

“I just have to tell you... for what it’s worth, you guys still look so happy together,” Holly said. “Even if that’s not what this is. I just... I wanted to tell you that. As someone who has known you both for a long time, Auston never smiles as much as he smiles when he’s with you. It’s just nice to see.”

You gaped at your old friend, speechless, and she scrunched her nose at you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cross the line, I just...” she trailed off.

You shook your head, forcing yourself to act casual. “No, no. Not at all. It’s okay. Thank you, for telling me. I just, I gotta run,” you said, leaning in to hug her again. “Bye, Hol. Have a merry Christmas.”

“You too, Kels. See you around,” She smiled as you moved toward the bathroom door. With one last polite nod at her, you exited and escaped to your seat.

As you reached the table, you had to physically restrain yourself from reaching out and running your hand along the back of Auston’s neck and affectionately trailing your fingertips over the short hair there, as you had done for so many years when approaching him and sidling up to him. Instead, you smoothed your hand over your dress and sighed as Auston turned his head to look at you, grinning as he watched you sit.

“You get lost?” he teased. You chuckled, throwing your hair behind your shoulders.

“Something like that,” you muttered, immediately reaching for your glass of wine, which you could tell had been refilled in your absence. Auston hummed in acknowledgement as you took a long sip, watching you all the while.

“One more glass and then we get outta here?” Auston suggested as you set the glass down. You only nodded.

_____

“Remember when you had that old truck, with the tires that were always muddy, and we used to just ride around Scottsdale all night long?” you asked Auston, both of you reminiscing about days gone by after leaving the restaurant.

Auston nodded, running his pointer finger across his upper lip, the other hand on the wheel, as he watched the memory projecting in his mind.

“‘Course I do,” he told you, and you didn’t miss the way his tone changed when he did, making you smirk.

“So, where to next?” you prodded. “Back to Casa de Matthews?”

He shrugged ambiguously, but secretly, he knew just what he wanted to do. “We could just ride around. Like we used to. If you want. I mean, there’s no real reason for us to rush back to our parents’ houses, right?” he said with a snicker.

This could get messy as the mud on the truck tires, you thought, but your response was already tumbling from your lips.

“Okay,” you said, smiling at him. “I’d say let’s go drive through the rich neighborhoods and look at Christmas lights like we used to, but that’s where you and your parents live now, so...” You clicked your tongue and Auston rolled his jaw, acting completely offended to hide how much he had missed you chirping him. The way it melted him.

“We’re still going,” he insisted, turning the wheel at the next intersection and pulling a U-turn. “We’ll just, uh, we’re just gonna maybe skip a couple neighborhoods, that’s all.”

You laughed — a real Kelsey belly laugh — and Auston watched as you lit up his world yet again. He didn’t even need to see any Christmas lights this year. He had all the light he needed right next to him.

Minutes later, he passed the usual first turn on your holiday lights tour and you furrowed your brow.

“Aus, where are you going? I wanted to see Ranchero Nuevo first. We always start there,” you reminded him.

“No, what’s the actual first thing we do when we go see Christmas lights?” Auston asked, pulling instead toward the strip mall at the next light. When you saw the green glow of the Starbucks sign up ahead, you smiled as it dawned on you.

“Get hot chocolate,” you said fondly. Instead of answering, Auston simply sent a soft smile your way. “You’re the greatest,” you lauded, igniting a pride that burned bright in Auston’s chest.

“Anything for you, babe,” he said before he could even realize what he’d just done. He snapped his head your way and saw that you were trying your damnedest not to smile.

He was completely taken aback as you quipped, “You can call me babe for the weekend.”

Auston did a double-take and then nodded once at your phone in your hands, which had just lit up with two missed calls and a particularly accusatory text from one Alex Matthews that you decided you would have to tend to later.

“Write this down,” Auston instructed curtly.

“What do you mean?” you laughed, holding your phone up curiously.

“I want proof that you just said that to me,” he deadpanned, jutting his chin toward your glowing screen and sending you into a fit of laughter.

After you’d both recovered, Auston picked up your drink — large peppermint hot chocolate, like always — and a coffee for himself, and you set off to wind your way through the same neighborhoods you had driven through countless times, admiring most of the decorations and poking fun at the gaudiness of some, laughing all the while, without a care.

As he pulled into a neighborhood you knew to be just a stone’s throw away from where he had recently purchased a house, Auston took a deep breath, fingers gripping the steering wheel rigidly, and decided to take the leap and say what had been circling through his brain since you’d stepped foot in the vehicle after dinner but had only just now worked up the nerve to say.

“What if we didn’t go back to our parents’ places tonight?” he asked abruptly, the words sounding much more jumbled and rushed than they had in his head.

You chuckled anxiously, staring straight ahead. “What do you mean?”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and pressed on. “Hear me out. What if we just went to my place for the night instead? I don’t mean to like… to hook up, or anything,” he assured. “Just to be together. I just… I really fucking missed you.”

Uh, whoops. He hadn’t exactly meant to slip that last part in there, but it was too late to turn back now.

There was a lengthy pause and the car was frighteningly silent as you weighed your options.

“Well...” you eventually said, nibbling on your bottom lip. “If it’s okay with you, then it’s okay with me.”

“Yeah?” Auston asked immediately, searching your face for confirmation that he had just heard you correctly. He couldn’t believe that this — any of this— was really happening.

You nodded.

“Yeah. And… Aus?” you spoke.

“Yes, Kelsey?” he asked softly, joy radiating from his whole being and seeping into his words.

You leaned your head back against the seat and reached to wrap your hand around his on the center console.

“I really fucking missed you, too,” you told him.

_____

“Why did you agree to come with me tonight anyway, Kelsey?”

You and Auston were each almost a full bottle of wine deep by the time he asked this, inhibitions now lowered. He’d barely finished giving you the tour before you were both so palpably overwhelmed by the reality of being alone together in his house, with so many feelings buzzing about frenetically, that you took the liberty of pulling a bottle of red from the wine fridge and asking for glasses and a corkscrew. Auston forked them over without question, and now you were deeply entrenched in the process of examining old battle wounds that had never quite healed.

“Because I missed you,” you answered truthfully. “And also because I owed it to you to accept your invitation when you took a chance by reaching out.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Kels,” he claimed, taking a swig.

You picked up your glass and passed by him as you began to pace the tile floor, unable to just be still during this exchange — this conversation that had been a long time coming.

“I do, though,” you argued. “You gave me everything. Everything. And I still left.”

Auston squeezed the stem of his wine glass so hard he feared he may just shatter it.

“I don’t want you blaming yourself for the things I put you through because of my career choice,” he said firmly, a hand splayed against his chest as he accepted the responsibility, just like he always did.

“But you didn’t choose to have the media posted up outside our apartment every day. You didn’t choose to have strangers stalking me and my family online. You didn’t choose to have them calling me a distraction and a leech and a gold digger and a wh—“

“Don’t say it,” he warned as he lifted a finger, referencing the specific instance of the smearing of your character that had left you broken enough to start packing your bags.

“Okay,” you conceded quietly, knowing just how sick that one word had made him. “But listen. Yes, you chose to play hockey. But you didn’t choose all that shit that came along with it. You didn’t know! Hell, you didn’t even get to choose where you played. But even so… honestly, I used to blame you for everything. Because back then, it was just easier for me to deal with it that way.”

Auston’s head hung between his shoulder blades as he leaned his palms against the bar, reliving the very same pain that had eaten away at him for the past three years, especially the acute ache that had come in the weeks immediately after you left.

“I know you did — blame me, that is,” he said softly. “And I understand why.”

You took slow and deliberate steps back to where he stood and rubbed your hand soothingly across his broad back, feeling the way his muscles relaxed under your touch.

“Hey… look at me, huh?” you asked, gently guiding his face toward yours with your fingers. “I don’t blame you, Aus. I don’t,” you assured, your eyes piercing into his. “Not anymore. I’ve grown. I know I did this. I know it’s my fault that we’re like this. I mean, fuck, I broke my own heart, and I know I hurt you. I just... at the time, I didn’t see a way forward on the road we were on.”

Auston’s mind was firing on all cylinders as he tried desperately to compute what he’d just heard, convinced he was gathering more from your words than you meant for him to.

“And now?” he ventured.

He watched as your pained expression turned to one of, dare he even think it, hope.

“I still see it, Aus,” you said. “I still see us ending up together. I know it’s out of the blue, but…”

“It’s not though,” he said, cocking his head a bit to punctuate his point. “I know it doesn’t make much sense, any of this, but… to me, it’s not out of the blue. I’ve wanted this for so long,” he told you. “And I just need you to know that. Regardless of what happens next.”

“Auston, you and me together… that’s the only thing that makes sense. That’s all that’s ever made sense to me,” you said, clarity washing over you. “But I just, I wasn’t ready. And I got so scared that I wouldn’t be able to handle your life that I… I just ran.”

“You can run, Kelsey,” Auston said softly as he, yet again, twirled a strand of your hair around his finger. “But only so far.”

“Yeah…” you whispered. Then, without hesitation, you grasped his chin between your forefinger and thumb, turning his face to yours and studying his brown eyes just for a heartbeat before pressing your lips to his.

And for now, that was all that needed to be said.

_____

You hadn’t slept together. But you had slept together.

Too much crying and laughing and kissing and rehashing and wondering aloud had left you both emotionally drained and physically exhausted, and after dragging yourself into the master bathroom to throw on a crewneck and a pair of Auston’s sweats, you’d promptly fallen asleep in his arms, a smile on his features even in sleep.

The next morning it occurred to you, with your cheek pressed against his bare chest and your legs entangled with his, that Auston’s bed — whether here, or in the house where he grew up, or in Toronto — was the warmest one you’d ever known. Though you could tell by the sunlight flooding the room that it was late in the morning, you couldn’t bear to move away from him.

Soon, he, too, began to stir. As he squinted in the daylight and peered down at you, he closed his eyes once more, a peaceful grin on his lips.

“Oh, thank god that wasn’t just a dream,” he whispered. You chuckled, your fingertips lazily drawing shapes on his pecs as you nuzzled your head further into his neck.

“Nope,” you established. “This is very, very real.”

You lay in quiet thought for a moment before adding softly, “But what happens now?”

At that, Auston’s eyes opened wider this time, a slight panic visible in his face.

“Well,” he began, smoothing his hand over your head and kissing your hair. “What happens now is that we get some coffee.”

You sighed at his attempt to make light of the situation and pushed yourself to sit straight up in bed, cross-legged in front of where he lay on his side.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” you spoke, your fingers pulling anxiously at the bedsheet below. “Yesterday was like a fever dream and now... now we have to face reality.”

Slowly, Auston sat up, too, and pulled you into his lap, allowing you to rest your back against his torso as he gathered your hair at the nape of your neck in a makeshift ponytail.

“Everything that happened yesterday was reality, baby,” he insisted, kissing the crown of your head.

“Our feelings, yes,” you allowed. “But not the rest of it. I mean, fuck, we’re both leaving town in —“ you glanced at the bedside clock and were shocked by the 11:27 that stared back at you, realizing you’d practically slept in half the day — “48 hours. And then what? I go back to LA and you go back to Toronto and we just wonder about—“

“Baby, stop,” Auston begged as he turned you to face him, bringing your forehead to his lips. “Take a breath,” he said, stroking your jaw with his thumbs as he looked down at you, concern etched into his features. “We don’t have to figure all this out right this minute. In fact, we’re not going to. For right now, let’s just let this be what it is. And you have to try and stop spinning your wheels so fast. You’re gonna burn a hole in my floor,” he joked, kissing your nose.

You chuckled sadly, holding his wrists. “You’re right,” you eventually told him. “We’ll figure it out, somehow. I know we will,” you sighed, frowning. “First things first though, I have to get home and help my mom get ready for the party tonight.”

Before you could get out of bed to start gathering your things, Auston circled his arms around your hips and kept you in his lap. “Wait, gimme a smile first,” he requested.

You looked up at him and offered a tight-lipped smile, still distracted by the future of your relationship teetering precariously in the balance.

Auston shook his head. “That’s a fake Kelsey smile,” he accused, accurately. “Don’t even try me.”

With another deep sigh, you muttered, “You’re the only soul who can tell.”

“Who can tell what?” he asked, hugging you tighter.

You looked up at him for a moment, feeling more seen than you had in years. “Which smiles I’m faking,” you said quietly.

A pleased smile twitched at the corners of Auston’s lips before he pressed his mouth to yours.

_____

Auston walked into your parents’ house that night with his understated charm and a devastating ensemble of a maroon suit, white shirt with the top few buttons undone, and black loafers, looking every bit the GQ model he was once upon a time. With two bouquets of red roses and a bottle of champagne in hand, he knocked on the glass and your dad met him enthusiastically at the door.

“What’s the occasion?” your dad then chuckled, a bit puzzled. Auston glanced to where you stood near the staircase, waiting to greet him, and smiled.

“These are for your daughter,” Auston said as he grasped one bouquet. “And these are for your wife,” he said as he gestured toward the other. Your dad raised his eyebrows, looking between the two of you pensively, and let out a loud laugh. “Well, how thoughtful! And the champagne?” your dad asked as Auston stepped toward you and tucked one bunch of roses into your hold. He kissed your cheek chastely and turned back to your dad.

“Well, you never know when you’re gonna have something to celebrate,” Auston said with a smirk. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and your dad clapped Auston’s back appreciatively before leaving the two of you to your moment.

“Thank you, for the flowers,” you said softly, staring up at him. “They’re beautiful.”

“You’re welcome,” he said with a nod before your aunt and uncle suddenly appeared in the doorway, loudly greeting you and pushing their way toward you for hugs as Auston gave them their space and waited for you to become available again.

His patience lasted all of five minutes as he made vague pleasantries with the handful of guests who had already arrived, before he was approaching you again, eager to do what he really came here to do and unable to wait a moment longer. As you turned away from a brief conversation with a longtime next-door neighbor, Auston gently grasped your wrist as he said hastily, “Can I see you outside for a second?”

You didn’t have much of a choice as he led you hurriedly through the formal living room and out the French doors to the balcony, closing them behind you and backing you into a corner, hidden from view.

“Aus, what are you—“

He pressed his body into yours, nudging you back against the rail as he took your face in his hands and kissed you hungrily.

“Doing,” you whispered when he let up, completing your earlier thought as you pressed your fingertips against your swollen lips and looked up at him, your cheeks reddening.

“That,” he answered simply with a small smile. “And I wanted to give you something...”

He patted his pockets to determine where the object was, and your eyes widened.

“Auston, no!” you exclaimed, squeezing his elbows in an attempt to stop his search. “You can’t. I didn’t get you anything. I —”

“Kelsey, are you crazy? Yes, you did,” he said firmly. “Time with you. You gave me time with you. That’s all I’ve wanted for the last three years. That’s more than I could have ever asked for.”

There was nothing you could say then, nothing that sounded worthy enough to hold any significance in such an already meaningful vignette of the two of you. Auston took your silence as his opportunity to pull a mid-sized, square, red leather box from the pocket of his suit jacket, the name “Cartier” imprinted in gold script on the lid.

“Auston, stop,” you warned in a whisper, knowing what was inside and knowing that you would be rendered completely incapable of walking away from him once he offered this gift to you, knowing what it signified for both of you. He shook his head, knowing that your request was an empty one. He propped open the box and placed it on the small wrought iron table in front of you on the balcony. You couldn’t peel your eyes from it as your mind raced with questions.

“How... where... we slept until noon, Aus,” you stuttered. “All the stores were closed. Where did you even buy this?”

He pursed his lips and nodded once, then put his hands into his pockets and admitted, “I’ve had it for almost three years, Kels.”

You blinked again and again, not processing what he’d just revealed.

“I’m sorry... what?”

“I bought this for you for Valentine’s Day three years ago,” he continued. “I bought it and I hid it in my closet and I was gonna give it to you but we broke up on —“

“January 30th...” you whispered. Auston’s brows knit together in agony, and his throat constricted.

“You remember too,” he stated quietly.

“Yeah. Yeah, I remember a little too well,” you said, sniffling as you glanced down at the box again.

Suddenly, your mind drifted back not to that fateful day in his apartment in Toronto, but instead to lying on your stomach as a kid in your family room, flipping through the pages of your favorite issue of your mom’s old Vogue magazines, as Auston used a yardstick and a Nerf ball as makeshift hockey equipment, taking shots at your couch again and again while you soaked in the photos of beautiful models, trendy clothing, and expensive jewelry, as visions of working at a fashion magazine someday twirled through your daydreams.

“Whatcha readin’?” a ten-year-old Auston inquired as he dropped next to you to take a break from his game.

“Vogue,” you answered, turning another page. “Like usual.”

Auston nodded, spotting a pretty woman in a tight black dress and commented, “Cool,” with a laugh. “If you could have anything in that book, what would you pick?”

Ever the master of sass, you rolled your eyes.

“It’s a magazine, Aus,” you corrected with venom in your voice as Auston rolled his own eyes. “But, if I had to pick... I know just what I want,” you informed him, leafing through the issue to get back to an ad in the front. When you finally found what you were seeking, you plopped the magazine down again, smacking your hand onto its glossy pages.

“That,” you said, pointing to the gold bangle. “It’s called the Love Bracelet. It says that it gets bought by somebody you love and then they have to use a screwdriver to put it on you.”

“A screwdriver?!” Auston asked incredulously. “Wouldn’t that hurt?”

You giggled. “No, silly,” you drawled. “It doesn’t hurt. But then the person who loves you is the only one who can put it on you or take it off you. You can’t do it by yourself.”

Auston nodded. “Cool,” he repeated, more seriously this time. You sighed wistfully as you gazed down at the bracelet.

“Yeah, but it’s a whole bunch of money, and my dad said he isn’t buying it. He said maybe my husband will get me one someday,” you said sadly. Auston watched your face drop, then, he got an idea.

“How about this,” he offered, nudging you with his elbow. “If I get famous for playing baseball, or hockey I guess, and I make a boatload of money, then I’ll buy you that bracelet. ‘Kay?”

You blushed, hunching your shoulders as you were slightly embarrassed by your best friend’s offer. Still, you loved Auston, and you knew he loved you. He was the only person you wanted to get that bracelet from, except for like, your mom or dad.

“Okay,” you agreed. “You promise?”

Auston dragged his index finger over the left side of his chest. “Cross my heart,” he confirmed.

This time, it was your turn to say, “Cool.”

“I asked my mom to hold onto it,” you heard him telling you now. Now that you’d become the people you’d said you’d be. Now that you both had grown into the farfetched dreams you’d shared as children. Now that you’d come back home — back to one another. Now that he was here, in front of you, again. “I just couldn’t bear to take it back, even though I honestly never thought I’d get the chance to give it to you.”

You were shaking your head endlessly, attempting to stop tears from streaking your face. “I can’t believe this...” you said, awestruck.

“I don’t have to put this on you right now,” Auston said, swallowing his own tears he felt creeping up on him. “I just want you to have it. It’s yours. You should keep it.”

With a few swipes at your undereyes, you rubbed away the wetness on your hands and then extended your left wrist to Auston. A smile flashed briefly across his lips before he set them in a straight line once more.

“Are you sure?” he asked, caution in his voice.

You pulled him in by his waist, beaming, before you answered.

“I’ve played this out basically every night since I left,” you told him. “Even when I was with somebody. I just followed the path my mind was taking me all the way to the very end, until there was no place left to go. And it always leads to you. It always leads me home.”

Auston pulled you into a searing kiss, both of you smiling into it, before he squeezed your hand and reached for the box, carefully disassembling the bracelet so that he could put it on you at last.

“All day I’ve been thinking about what I said earlier. About running,” you spoke as Auston worked on securing the bracelet. “I started running and running and it’s been such a mess since then. Nothing about the past three years made any sense to me. And then I saw you, and… it all made sense again. You and I were the only thing that ever made sense to me,” you told him, your voice wavering as he twisted the final screw into place, lifting the inside of your wrist to his lips and placing a warm, reverent kiss to the skin there, his eyes never leaving yours as he did. “So I’m done. I’m done running, Auston. I can’t run anymore.”

“You have no fucking clue how long I’ve waited to hear you say that,” Auston admitted, touching his forehead to yours before leaning back. “So, to your earlier point... what the hell are we supposed to do now?”

You ran a frazzled hand through your long hair and bit at the inside of your cheek as you formulated your response. “I mean, I have to go back, Aus. I’m working on a really big project...”

Your words put him into a tailspin of his own this time, watching the dreams he had let resurface over the last two days come crashing down in front of him all over again. You were eluding him. Again.

His ears were buzzing so loudly that he barely heard your next words.

“But maybe after that... I could come and spend some time in Toronto?”

Auston pulled his tongue away from the roof of his dry mouth and pleaded, in a voice barely above a whisper, “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t say that unless you really mean it,” he said, desperation in his tone.

“I mean, really, I don’t have a choice,” you pointed out with a breathy laugh, your fingers tracing the cold metal of the bangle around your other wrist. “I don’t see any other way that this ends. Not after this. This perfect fucking weekend. I mean... do you?”

“No,” he quickly retorted. “No, I don’t. I was just scared that you... that this was going to be it for you. That we would have this incredible time together and then it would just be another chapter in the Auston and Kelsey history book.”

You smoothed your hands over his lapels, allowing your body to fully relax into his.

“Auston, this... this is different,” you said somberly. “Before, it all just felt like too much. I got scared. We were so young, Aus. I mean, we’re still young, but we were babies. And now... I’ve realized that dealing with the press and the social media and the fans... it’s worth it to me. I’ll never like it. But I love you. And that’s enough. That will always be more than enough for me — being with you. And I’m so sorry that it’s taken me this long, that it took me finally coming back home, to realize that.”

“Don’t be sorry, Kels, please,” Auston whispered, one hand clutching at your hip, the other tangled in the hair at the back of your head as he held onto you with everything he had, knowing he was ready to do so for as long as you would let him. “Just... just say it again, baby. Please?”

“I love you, Aus,” you whispered, tears falling freely down your cheeks as he pressed his forehead to yours. “I’m never gonna stop.”

“Don’t stop,” Auston pleaded, nuzzling his nose against yours before pressing his lips to your mouth. “Don’t ever stop. Promise?” he asked, his voice gravelly.

“Cross my heart,” you whispered, drawing a pretend line across your chest before cupping his cheek and kissing him tenderly.

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7wanderingpaws · 4 years ago

Text

Captain Bucheon 02

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader (Lee Nari)

Genre: policeman AU; enemies to lovers AU

Warnings: langauge, mentions of drugs

story masterlist masterlist

<-- first -- next -->

tags: @wooya1224 (if you want to be un/tagged let me know! I forgot to ask last time lol)

Second: Fears and Desires

Rushing out of the building, you made a quick run for the closest bus stop, trying to supress every urge to look back in case someone could be following you. With their identity being unknown and the box being successfully delivered on your behalf meant huge trouble for you and it left you incredibly nervous to stay in the same place as that anonymous. For whatever reason someone decided to deliver the box. Who could it be?

With your heart racing all the way in your throat, you thought that this situation would be the worst. Turning a sharp corner that led to the main road, you collided harshly with a sturdy chest, the person's arms flying out to catch your falling figure. Hands slid around your waist and steadied you up carefully.

Realizing your eyes were squeezed shut, you opened your eyes to be met with familiar ones. You slowly died inside.

“Careful,” he murmured as he took in your scared expression.

Stepping away from him, you tried to brush off the feeling of pining. You'd been working way too hard to avoid him for you to meet him exactly when you were running away red-handed. “What are you doing here?”

He shook his head gently as his gaze slowly took in your features. It made you shudder. “My workplace is not far away, remember?”

Gulping, you nodded, letting out a breathy snort as you looked down on the pavement. “Right. Silly of me to ask.”

“Are you okay?”

“I missed you,” you blurted at the same time and looked up at him. “Oppa.”

Baekhyun was frozen just for a moment before he stepped closer to you with the gentlest of smiles. Slowly, he reached up with his hand and cradled your cheek. “I missed you too, pretty.”

Pretty. Ah, how you missed that nickname.

“Then kiss me,” you let out boldly and you expected him to be surprised or even scold you for being so demanding but he surprised you.

“Oh, yeah,” he murmured, leaning in. “I will, now that you're finally here.” You helped him out by standing on your tip-toes while you let your arms circle around his neck, and his hands slid back to your waist. His lips touched yours gently, carefully, before you hummed and pushed yourself more into him, urging him to deepen the kiss.

He growled when he felt your chest press up to his and his grip tightened while one of his hands came up to your neck, tilting your head so he could have better access. With a simple lick of his tongue, he was inside and you were whimpering, gasping, panting. So, so needy for him. You groaned, feeling the strong attraction you both shared. It seemed that no matter how much you hated him, it was always present. You would always be bewitched by Byun Baekhyun.

He was still hungrily claiming your lips when he reached up for your arms and brought them down until he had your hands in his. He fumbled with them for a while and you smiled, expecting him to intertwine your hands. Just the feeling of his smooth hands on yours made the butterflies in your tummy flutter their wings.

Then you heard a click.

Baekhyun kissed you one last time, his lips puckering, before slowly leaning back and taking in your scared eyes when you felt cold metal around your wrists.

“Lee Nari,” he breathed, the puffs of hot air on your wet lips, “I arrest you for illegal drug distribution.”

Gasping loudly, you sat straight up in your bed, the aftermath of your nightmare still present and fresh in front of your eyes while you tried to shake off the dread and the terrible pull in your lower tummy. Why the hell were you sexually frustrated when he arrested you again?

“What is it?” you heard from beside you, a confused and sleepy Yuyeon. “Nari? Are you okay?” she was next to you within a second, the early morning sun lighting up the room softly through the light curtains. She saw you touching your lips while tears were rolling down your cheeks. “Goodness, was the dream that bad?” she asked again carefully and sat on your bed.

You whimpered, still shocked, and reached out for your best friend, wrapping your arms around her to get a feel of reality. “Just… it was ridiculous. So ridiculous, Yuyeonah,” you muttered, sniffing, flashes of Baekhyun's face ever-present and lively. That was certainly not how you imagined the first meeting with him to go.

“It was just a bad dream,” consoled Yuyeon gently, rubbing your back in circles. “None if it is real, Nari.”

You nodded and pressed your lips together.

Just a bad dream.

“Are you okay?” Someone muttered to your ear, successfully scaring the living daylights out of you.

You heard that sentence in your dream.

Turning around abruptly with wide eyes, you spot Chul who was smiling at you cheekily.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. You just look a little absent-minded,” he explained, scratching his neck as he looked at the ground.

You sighed. “I’m fine. But thanks for worrying.”

He nodded and wanted to say something before hesitating. You raised a questioning eyebrow, silently asking him what was up.

“Was everything fine after I left?”

Oh. You completely forgot to let him know the mission was successful since you were so freaked out by the unexplainable events. “Yes!” you squeaked. “It went perfectly!”

“Great! I received the confirmation text but you never followed up with an update.” He laughed. “Then we can focus on your run in the festival!”

You groaned and started stomping towards your classroom. “I really, really like REALLY don’t wanna do it.”

He followed you, snickering. “You’re our ace, Nari.” He hugged your shoulders with his arm and pressed you to his side. “If you won’t attend, nobody will come and watch!”

Puffing your hair out of your face, you silently fumed. “I already said okay to the darn MCing with that bitc- singer.”

“Were you just about to call her a bitch?” asked Chul, shocked as he maneuvered you through the crowded corridors. Students were giving you looks, some whispering when they spotted Chul, the famous boy.

“Ah, no, not at all,” you grumbled, not bothering to hide your sarcasm.

Chul chuckled and you stopped in front of your class. “You can be so feisty. Either way, bring this spirit to the running track. We are starting from today!”

“But-but I want to go out to the bar-“

Chul clicked his tongue. “I will gladly take you to a bar if you come to the practice.”

Not even stopping to think it over, you quickly complied: “You’ll buy me a drink, right? Oppa?” you added with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

He observed you for a moment, an amused smile splayed on his face. “Sure, Nari. A drink it is.”

“Deal!”

“Faster, Lee!” shouted coach Lim when you finished the second round, heaving loudly like a horse. “If you want to win an award for us you will have to do better than that!”

With bitter realization, you noticed how he reminded you of your beloved math teacher back in high school. Unfortunately, you weren’t that good at sports but you were still better than math.

“Okay, got it,” you exhaled harshly, coming to a full stop.

You saw the sun already setting, the cold air turning your hot breaths into condensation. You could practically feel your nose turning red.

“Hey, Rudolf!” Chul.

You snapped your head at him, glaring. “Do not mock me. You’ve dragged me into this yet you seem very unaffected.”

He laughed, walking over to you. “You already forgot why I am the president of the student council?” He quirked an eyebrow at you. “I’m good at everything.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay then you win the award for us.”

“Nuh-uh. It’s gotta be you,” he winked at you.

Too tired to bother fighting with him, you quickly went to change into your clothes, deciding you would take a shower once you got back from the smelly bar. Surely you stinking wouldn’t bother people too much. Plus, it wasn’t like you were trying to impress Chul anyway.

Meeting the senior outside, you headed for the closest bar, bickering on the way. Once inside he bought you a drink just as promised and you were fast to gulp down half of the cocktail.

“So, I’ve been wanting to discuss some matters with you,” started Chul, looking at you in amusement when you took another big gulp. “Just some other stuff that has to be taken care of about the festival.”

You whined and leaned your forehead into your palm. “Why now? We should do that at the student council.”

“You’re my right hand, Lee,” reasoned smoothly Chul and took a sip of his beer. The frothy foam left a small white mustache and it made you giggle. You motioned for him to get rid of it and he quickly licked it off. “Anyway,” he started with a laugh, “you’ll take care of the security team of the festival. Make sure to book the bodyguards and police guards around. We will have famous artists there so security should be our number one priority at all costs.”

You hummed, faking thinking. You ignored your rapid heartbeat at the mention of police, some flashbacks of your dream quickly chasing you down. Nodding, you hid your face behind the cup as you took another sip and looked around the place as if expecting to see the familiar face in the crowd just like you did on the night you met him.

“I kind of want to pass on this one,” you finally replied as you put down your glass.

“Why is that?”

Sighing, you pursed your lips not wanting to elaborate on your actual thinking pattern. “Just feels weird to talk to the police and blah blah blah,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m already doing so much for the festival, Chul, don’t you think?”

Chul observed you for a moment. “I’m sorry. I feel like a total jerk for always throwing all the responsibilities at you but I really am only giving you those tasks that require the most able person.”

“Oh.” You didn’t think about that. After all, Chul was right. You were kind of like a right hand to him, doing a lot of jobs in the behind the scenes whenever there were events happening at the school.

“And I heard that you might have connections at the police so I thought we could use that to our advantage,” he continued, hesitating when he noticed your sour expression. “Am I wrong?”

Your slight scowl turned into a frown. “Who the hell told you that?”

He blinked a couple of times. “Well, she told me it’s a secret so…”

“Chul?”

“Yeah,” he looked at your hard expression, prompting him to answer you. You swore you would kill Oh Sehun, you were sure it was him.

“Yuyeon. It was Yuyeon.”

Your mouth opened in shock. You thought you heard wrong. “What? What did she tell you though?” And why would Yuyeon talk to a person she didn't like? You knew her well and she voiced, or at least showed, how she didn't like Chul. In her opinion, he was too friendly with everyone.

Chul laughed unsurely, a little perplexed at the change of your behavior. “Nothing! I mean... she mentioned a boyfriend-“

“I never had a boyfriend at the police station,” you declared quickly. “I hardly know anyone there so I don’t think I can help you in this matter.”

Chul nodded, immediately complying while his hands played with the cup in his hands. “Right, sorry. Maybe I’ve heard wrong. You’d be too young to date a police officer anyway.” He took note of your sudden unreadable expression and when you didn’t reply, he added: “Then I don’t see a problem why you can’t take care of the matters! Since you don’t have a boyfriend at the station.”

You sucked your lips in, mulling over his words. It wouldn’t hurt if you’d ask for favors from Yuyeon or Sehun, right? They could call in with your name and that way you wouldn’t have to worry about the possibility of accidentally talking to Byun Baekhyun. Either way, it was hard to win an exclusive chat with the big captain himself, so eventually, you didn’t see that much of a problem with it. And, it was a must that nobody could find out about any kind of connection with him. People would know you were underaged or could think you were too easy and had a beneficial relationship with him. That could totally ruin your image — because you didn’t care about his for sure!

“Okay,” you agreed with a timid nod, avoiding Chul’s eyes. “I’ll do it.” Managing to fake a strained smile you finally looked up to catch him studying you.

“If it makes you uncomfortable—“

“No, it’s absolutely fine,” you chirped in and threw the remaining cocktail into your mouth. If you pretended it was hard alcohol maybe you could slowly start swimming in nothingness and forget about him.

It was unfair that he’d been chasing you in your dream. It felt so real. Even the kissing was so believable it made chills run down your spine. “I’m gonna order another one,” you decided, already standing up. “I need it.”

Chul nodded slowly, hesitantly, and shook his head when you asked him whether he wanted another one.

Walking over to the busy bar, you caught the waiter and ordered yourself another cocktail when a tall figure appeared next to you.

“Is this your fourth already?” He asked nonchalantly, looking around. He was one head taller than you so it wasn’t like you were obscuring his view. “Jez, woman, when was the last time you took a shower?”

Rolling your eyes, you waved your hand to finally bring his attention to you. “You don't even pay attention to me but dare to comment on my hygiene.” You clicked your tongue disappointedly. “I’m right here, Sehun, and no it isn’t my fourth. But I’m getting there,” you rumbled and tapped your fingers impatiently on the worn-down surface of the wooden bar table.

“Why are you here with Chul?”

“Cause you didn’t ask me to hang out,” you pouted and innocently blinked a few times.

Sehun elbowed you gently. “I was meeting someone else today. And anyways, you’ve been always busy during a weekday - you don’t have work tonight, right?”

Making a grimace at the mention of your work, you turned back to the barista, watching him mix your cocktail. “No, tonight I’m free. And I had my first training, Sehun. I will die if I have to continue preparing for that damn race,” you whined, turning abruptly to him.

“I’ll help you with the training. I promise I’m more fun than coach Lim! I hear he is rather hot-headed,” he said with a glint in his eyes. “You know I won’t scold you.”

You frowned like a kid. “Run the race for me then.”

Sehun sighed and when the barista brought you your cocktail he quickly ordered two whiskeys.

Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline. “You’re going hard tonight.” Immediately you took a sip of your drink and felt an instant relief. While still playing with the straw, you looked up at your friend. “Who’re you here with anyway?”

Sehun gave you a look. “Uh, just a friend.” He shrugged. He was thankful for the crowded bar tonight. “We are just catching up.”

“Great!” You smiled brightly and put your cocktail down. “Do I know him? Or her?” you winked.

“Eh—“ Sehun hesitated and his eyes fell on someone behind you, following the person with his eyes for a moment. He then quickly took your cocktail and pushed it into your hand. “Nari, you shouldn’t have Chul wait for you. I’ll see you at school.”

You pouted, frowning. “Yah, are you trying to get rid of me?!”

“No, I'm really not but just go. I’m doing you a favor here.”

You were about to scoff and retort to him something ugly for daring to kick you out like that, when another figure appeared next to Sehun. “I have an urgent phone call. I’ll be back soon, Sehun.”

You stared at Byun Baekhyun with your mouth hanging slightly open. His hair was pushed from his forehead, leaving space to admire his handsome features and the wrinkle-free forehead. His jawline was sharp and you zoomed in on those lips and the way they showed his lower teeth whenever he opened his mouth. He was absolutely breath-taking and he kissed you last night in your dream. He arrested you, too.

Baekhyun finally looked at the person Sehun had been chatting with, intending to acknowledge their presence but maybe he shouldn’t have. Having Lee Nari staring at him that way still pulled on his insides.

It was exactly three seconds and you sensed Sehun nodding to himself awkwardly, obviously thinking well, I told you to leave, but he didn't have to speak indirectly no more. You dashed. You literally dashed along with your cocktail, not bothering about spilling it all over yourself in the process, not bothering to say bye to Sehun, let alone acknowledging Baekhyun's presence. You swore you wouldn't do it. So you didn't.

Your heart was wild and scarily loud as you hastily approached Chul and slid down into your chair, bringing breeze along with you. He locked his phone he’d been playing with while you were away but when he saw your disheveled state, he blurted: “Nari? What happened? Are you okay?”

You were staring at him, desperately trying not to look where Sehun and Baekhyun were.

“It’s fine.”

“Did someone try to do something?” He looked back over his shoulder and he directly spotted Sehun and he must have seen Baekhyun, too. They had their heads connected now, an intense talk going on. “Hey, that’s Oh Sehun with someone.”

“Yeah, I chatted with him for a moment. Anyway, I’m here now. Let’s continue the talk.”

Chul took a moment longer before he finally turned around and faced you. He caught you gulping down half of the cocktail and sighed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I am.” Your eyes wandered on their own accord and you caught eyes with Baekhyun as he was leaving the bar. He was carefully making his way through the crowd, his phone in his hands, most probably tending to that urgent phone call he mentioned. He must have still been a workaholic.

To your utter horror, he wasn’t a coward. You should have known better than to follow him with your stare, for Baekhyun kept his look on you, observing you expressionlessly until he couldn’t do so anymore and until he was out of the bar.

He would hunt you all the time.

And you, as mature and as confident you acted a year ago when you told him there might be a chance of you two starting over again, you realized you probably matured backwards during that time. Anger, hatred, passion - they were all burning up inside of you and all the unwanted memories came flooding back.

Biting down hard on your lip, you willed away the tears. Lee Nari was not someone who would cry just over anyone and she wouldn't get fooled twice.

It was just the realization that you would never be able to build your bridges up with him again that made you want to weep. Even though you wanted to, you found it almost impossible in that moment.

><><><><><

A/N: Whew. I had a little bit of a rough time with this one because it is so slow-paced and already a little complex (in my head). What did you think? I got you fooled there in the beginning heheh It was just a dream in case you are still not sure! Though you never know with Captain Bucheon, hm?

Please let me know your thoughts!! :)

CuriousCat

#baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun #sehun #sehun fanfiction #kpop fanfiction #exo fanfiction #baekhyun angst #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun au #baekhyun policeman au #baekhyun police au #police au #policeman au #exo policeman au #mywritings #CB

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alyssawritesssfics · 4 years ago

Text

Hounded [9] 9. Unity Day

Pairings: Bellamy x OC // Kane x daughter!OC

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: violence, mentions of blood, character death (canon), series spoilers

Summary: It’s Unity Day --and Athena’s birthday-- and the celebrations only bring Athena and Bellamy closer together.

Author’s Note: Hii, here is chapter/episode nine! This one is also heavily Athena/Bellamy, so I again had a lot of fun writing it. I hope you enjoy it! Please remember to note and reblog! It really helps me see interest and therefore update the story more often. Thank you!

Tag List: @topazy @no-damsel @lizlil (DM or send an ask to be added)

previous chapter // series masterlist

I had waited up late last night, anticipating the inevitable conversation with my parents. Luckily for me, both were too busy on the Ark to bother. Part of me was bitter, considering what today was, but I knew the chaos of Bellamy’s information stirred up a lot up there.

Luckily, today was Unity Day and Clarke and Bellamy had both agreed to pause work on the camp and defences until after the ceremony. This meant I had a chance to sleep in for the first time since I’d be locked in Skybox.

When my eyes finally fluttered open, I noticed Octavia staring at me from across the tent.

“Were you watching me sleep?” I asked, rubbing my eyes. Then, I smiled. “You’re such a weirdo.”

Octavia rolled her eyes, standing from her bed and rushing over to mine. “I found something I thought you’d like.” She leaned over, rummaging through her pack and pulling out a long knife, handing it to me with a smile. “Happy Birthday.”

My eyes widened. “I can’t believe you remembered.”

“Of course I did!” Octavia beamed. “You made my birthday in Skybox so special, and we weren’t even free at the time. I know it’s not much, but I figured it would come in handy.”

I felt my eyes swell with tears, though I quickly pushed them back. “Thank you, O. I really appreciate you even remembering.”

We hugged briefly, Octavia pulling away with excitement. “We are going to have so much fun tonight. Monty is cooking up some of his famous moonshine.”

“At least we get to drink it this time.”

“I’ll let you get ready for the day,” Octavia spoke, heading to the entrance of the tent. “Too bad the moonshine isn’t ready yet. I could use it to get through the Unity Day Ceremony.”

I laughed as Octavia headed out of the tent. After all those years of participating in the ceremony with Clarke and Wells, I could also use a drink.

…

I made my way to the center of camp, finding most had gathered around the monitor to watch the early portion of the ceremony. The camera panned to my father for a moment, a sharp pain shooting through my body. Despite lucking out and getting to avoid talking to him, of course I’d still have to see him.

“Missing being up there for this?”

I turned around, Bellamy appearing. “Definitely not.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Kane’s daughter doesn’t like Unity Day?”

“Kane doesn’t like Unity Day.” I whispered, earning a chuckle. “It’s just such an elaborate show, as if we came together peacefully for the good of mankind. The Ark only became the Ark after the thirteenth station was blasted out of the sky.”

“You’re even more pessimistic than usual.”

I rolled my eyes, turning back to the screen. “You’re one to talk.”

Bellamy let out a sigh, walking away to join the others.

Alone. As Always.

…

- Six Years Earlier -

I sat on the couch of our family’s unit, staring at the door. It was nearing midnight, and I had yet to see my parents all day. When I woke up they’d both been gone, my mother being called away for surgery and my father for whatever ‘official business’ Jaha needed him for today.

My birthday cake sat in the fridge still, awaiting an adult to stick some candles on it and light it for me. Part of me felt guilty for being upset about missing out on candles; I was one of the lucky few who could even afford to have a cake made. I had read in a book once that cakes were tradition for every birthday on Earth.

The sound of a keycard swipe yanked me from my thoughts as I quickly jumped over the couch. The hard metal door swung open, revealing my mother. She looked exhausted, yet somehow still so put together.

Her eyes finally landed on me, her tired eyes widening. “Honey, I am so sorry.”

“It’s alright, Mom.” I lied. “I spent the night watching movies after the Unity Day Ceremony.”

She frowned, placing her keycard on the table by the door. “You shouldn’t have to watch movies alone on your birthday.”

“I’m used to it.” My mother winced, her frown only growing. “I haven’t touched the cake yet.” I added, smiling.

My mother finally smiled. “Let’s bust out the candles then!”

“Really?” I asked. “We aren’t supposed to have any flames after ten.”

“Are you going to tell Jaha?” She asked. I shook my head. “Good. Neither am I.”

My mother marched into the kitchen, grabbing the candles from the drawer as I pulled the cake out of the fridge. She placed twelve candles neatly across the cake, lighting them all with a match. Before I could blow out the candles, she placed a soft kiss on my cheek.

“Happy Birthday, Sweetheart.”

My smile filled out my face as I closed my eyes and made my wish. Then, I opened my eyes, blowing out the candles as the clock struck midnight.

…

“My friends, this is a historic Unity Day.” Jaha spoke through the monitor. “Every year, we mark the moment our ancestors of the twelve stations joined to form the Ark, but this is the last time we do so while aboard her. Next year, on the ground.”

Cheers erupted on the Ark, but most remained silent down here.

“Right. After we did all the work.” Miller groaned. “Somebody shut him up.”

“You shut up, Miller. Nobody’s forcing you to watch.” Raven snapped.

“For ninety-seven years, we have eked out an existence, hoping that someday our descendants would return to Earth.” Jaha continued.

“Monty strikes again!” Jasper’s voice rang out through the camp. “Call this batch ‘Unity Juice’. Who’s thirsty?”

Many delinquents rushed over, grabbing makeshift cups while Jasper filled them all. I stayed put, for reasons I didn’t even understand, watching the ceremony instead.

“To our sons and daughters on Earth listening to this message, we will see you soon.” Jaha carried on. “The first Exodus ship will launch in under sixty hours, carrying you the reinforcements that you need, so stay strong. Help is on the way.”

As the words filled my ears, I could feel my heart stop. The first Exodus ship meant the second wouldn’t be far behind. How soon until my father was down here? Despite the constant threat, I was getting used to having freedom down here. I definitely wasn’t ready for him to bark orders at me again. At least my mother would be down here soon. Hopefully before him.

Children carrying flags danced around the screen for a while, a little girl finally stepping into the center of their circle.

“Long ago when the Earth was on fire, through space all alone. Then one day, Mir floated by Shenzhen, and they realized life would be better together.” The girl spoke. “The other stations saw this, and they wanted to be together, too. When all the stations were formed, they called themselves-”

A loud bang sounded through the radio, the video cutting to static. We all stared at the screen, waiting for the video to come back, but it never did.

…

The sun had gone down, work came and went, and now it was time to have some much needed and deserved fun. As I walked through camp I watched everyone drinking, laughing, singing and playing games. I’d never seen ‘unity’ like this on the Ark.

My eyes landed on Bellamy, and I felt a familiar sinking feeling in my stomach. I took a deep breath, marching over until I was standing behind him.

“Hey,” I spoke, causing him to turn around. “I was a jerk earlier. I’m sorry.”

Bellamy eyed me for a moment, before smiling. “Birthday blues, I get it.”

My eyes widened. “How did you-”

“Octavia told me a bit ago.” Bellamy cut me off. “I can’t blame you for hating Unity Day more than most.”

“My birthday was always a little overshadowed.” I sighed. “I can’t complain too much, though. My mother always found a way to make it special, even if it was just before midnight.”

Bellamy smiled. “Your mother sounds great.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty cool.” I smiled back.

I watched Clarke approach us, a frown on her face. “The comms are still dead.”

“Best Unity Day ever.” Bellamy smirked.

“Now you agree with me.” I joked.

“Do you guys really think now is a good time to have a party?” Clarke asked, looking around. “The Grounder is still out there.”

I shook my head. “Grounders.”

“By now, he's made it home. He's probably putting together a lynch mob.” Bellamy spoke, causing Clarke to shift her feet. “Relax. I got security covered. Why don't you go get a drink? You look like you could use one.”

“I could use more than one.”

“So have more than one,” Bellamy responded. “Clarke, the Exodus ship carrying your mother comes down here in two days. After that, the party's over. Have some fun while you still can. You deserve it.”

Clarke thought for a moment. “Yeah, okay. So do you, by the way. Both of you.”

“I’ll have my fun when the Gounders get here.” Bellamy smirked.

Clarke smiled, laughing slightly. “Alright.”

We both watched her disappear into the crowd, Bellamy spinning the apple in his hand. Finally, he turned to me.

“What about you?” He asked. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating?”

I shrugged. “I’m not even sure I know how to celebrate.”

Bellamy took one final bite of his apple, tossing it to the side. “Come on.” He said, marching away.

“Where are we going?” I asked, my shorter legs struggling to keep up.

“First, we get drinks. Then, I teach you how to celebrate.”

I laughed, causing him to stop and look back at me. “You’re going to teach me how to celebrate?”

Bellamy smirked. “Trust me, we used to have the best parties on Factory Station.”

“Right, I heard about those.” I smiled. “I always wished I could go.”

“Well, now you pretty much get to.”

We reached Jasper, Bellamy asking for drinks. Jasper poured them, eyeing the two of us the entire time.

…

We spent most of the night drinking, talking about our experiences on the Ark and playing different games. Finally, we came across a new group, Clarke among them.

“You’re not gonna get this one.” Clarke taunted Fox.

Fox smirked. “Yes, I am.”

“No, it’s not happening.”

Fox flipped the metal piece, landing it the cup of moonshine.

Everyone around the table cheered as Clarke admitted defeat, drinking from the cup and spitting the metal piece out.

“What do you know?” A boy spoke. “Her highness can actually party. I like it.”

“What are you gonna do when the guards come down here and commandeer Monty’s still?” Clarke asked.

“Build another one.”

“Right.” Clarke laughed, her eyes landing on me. “Athena! Come try.”

I shook my head. “I’m alright, thanks.”

“Come on, Athena.” Bellamy nudged my arm.

I sighed, stepping towards the table. “Alright, what am I supposed to do?”

Clarke explained the rules to me as best as her tipsy self could. I stood across the table from her, aiming my piece of metal towards her cup. I then tossed it, the piece bouncing off the table and landing in her cup.

Clarke stared down at her cup for a moment before looking back up at me with a frown. “I regret asking you to try it.”

“Beginners luck.” I threw my hands up, smiling.

Clarke and I battled it out for a bit, her getting distracted before we could break the tie. She placed one of the metal pieces on her nose, struggling to balance it.

“Hey, can we talk?” Finn asked, appearing through the crowd and placing his hand on Clarke’s arm.

“Is everything alright?” She asked.

Finn looked around before gesturing for her to follow him.

With Clarke gone I stepped away from the table, realising I had sort of abandoned Bellamy. To my surprise he was still there, the smile on his face bigger than I’d ever seen it before.

“You were totally going to win that game.”

My eyes widened, my cheeks warming up. “You think so?”

He nodded. “I’m impressed, Athena.”

“It’s the birthday spirit, I guess.” I laughed, stumbling slightly.

“Woah,” Bellamy laughed, grabbing my arms. “You alright?”

I nodded. “I’m a little dizzy. Very tired. Too much birthday.”

Bellamy laughed again, helping me regain my balance. “Let’s get you to bed, alright?”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

Bellamy led me across the camp, stopping just outside of my tent.

“Octavia, are you in there?”

No response.

Bellamy pushed the flap to the side, stepping inside and helping me navigate my way through. I quickly sat on my cot, staring up at Bellamy.

“Alright, try to get some sleep.” Bellamy’s eyes shifted around the tent. “I’ll bring you some water in a bit. Drink it when you wake up.”

Bellamy turned to leave, but I quickly grabbed his arm. “Bellamy, wait.”

He stopped turning back around to face me. I stood from my bed, the alcohol taking over me and I tossed my arms around him.

“Athena?” He asked.

“Thank you, for everything today.” I spoke. “It was the best birthday ever.”

I felt Bellamy’s arms wrap around me, lingering there for just a few moments before we both pulled away. I stared into his soft brown eyes, and he stared back into mine. For a second, I thought he’d say something more.

Instead, he smiled. “Goodnight, Athena. Happy Birthday.”

Bellamy turned to exit the tent, pushing the flap aside to reveal Clarke. Her eyes quickly darted to me behind him, before landing back on his face.

“Hey, I needed to talk to you both.”

“Been having fun, Princess?” Bellamy smirked.

Clarke glared. “I’m serious.”

“You always are.”

“Finn’s set up a meeting with the Grounders. I’m leaving to go talk to them.”

I stood up, my head spinning. “Like hell you are.”

“Do you think that impaling people on spears is code for ‘let’s be friends’? Have you lost your damn mind?”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Now you two decide to agree on things?”

“Clarke, we have no idea what else these people are capable of. You could be walking into a trap.”

“I think it might be worth a shot.” Clarke shrugged. “I mean, we do have to find a way to live with them.”

“They’ll probably gut you, string you up as a warning.”

“Well, that’s why I’m here.” Clarke said. “I need you guys to follow us, be our backup.”

“Does Finn know about this?” Bellamy asked.

Clarke shook her head. “He doesn’t need to know.”

I eyed Clarke for a few moments, before finally letting out a hearty sigh. “Alright, I’m feeling up for an adventure this evening anyways.”

“Good,” Clarke nodded. “Bring guns.”

While I watched Clarke march away, Bellamy turned to me.

“You should stay here.”

I shook my head. “No way, I’m coming with you.”

“Athena, you were falling over ten minutes ago.”

“And now I’m worried about my friends.” I snapped. “Bellamy, We’ve all been drinking. I’ll sober up on the walk there.”

“Athena-”

“I can’t stay behind while my friends meet with the enemy. I’m coming with you, end of discussion.”

“No, not ‘end of discussion’,” Bellamy glared, folding his arms across his chest. “Who knows what kind of danger we’re gonna be walking into out there. I know you always feel like you have to risk yourself for your friends, but not this time. I can’t worry about you.”

I went to protest, his words finally sinking in and forcing me to stop. He was right. As much as I found arguing with him slightly entertaining, I knew this was one battle I would not be winning.

“Alright,” I sighed, slapping my hands against my thighs as I sat down on my coat. “Promise you’ll be careful?”

Bellamy nodded. “We’ll be back before you know it. Try to get some rest.”

Bellamy left the tent, and I knew I would not be getting any sleep that night.

next chapter

#the 100 #the 100 fanfiction #bellamy blake #bellamy blake fanfiction #bellamy blake x oc

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thearcana-junkie · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! If that's okay can i request Asra with a psychic apprentiece/MC? I have lots of ideas but not the skills tro write them hdjshsis

Took me a second to realize you said Psychic (As in see’s the future) and not Psychotic as in; Insane. Haha! Bid dumb on my part. Anyway—

It’s completely unedited, my wrist hurt to much from writing.

Main Six With A Psychic MC

—Nadia—

You had a vivid nightmare one night— Nadia was ubducted by men in theif clothing. When you woke up you sat there for a moment before shrugging the dream off, after all who doesn’t have nightmares of loosing their loved ones? You continued the day and forgot about it.

That is until Nadia mentioned going into town for some fresh air, this was normal, every once in a while she’d feel smithed by the constant aid of her staff at her beck and call so she’d escape to see her beautiful city.

However something didn’t sit right with you, you tried giving her every reason under the sun for her not to go out— all ranging from “If you want some fresh air we could go outside and have a picknik.” To the extreme “Nadia! I don’t think you should go out in your condition, you look pale!”

All of which Nadia gave simple resatlutions to. “well we could but alternatively we could dine at some of the little rest runts you’ve told me about by dear.” “What are you going on about?? I feel fine, i look fine— Why don’t you want me to go into town??”

YOu broke down and told her about the dream and the sinking feelings. Magic was magic— it worked in very mysterious ways, after all she herself wasn’t a stranger to visions. She thought it over, if this dream was indeed a vision she couldn’t let the insueing crime go unpunished so she made a proposition. “We‘ll go out for dinner but we’ll go he other route into town. I’ll send a decoy carriage thats exsacly how you describe on the route you had in your dream. If anything happens the guards in the carriage will handle it and we’ll still have a lovely day out.” She hummed happily. YOu agreed and had your date. Needless to say you were right and the decoy was attacked— the men were captured.

Nadia takes strange feelings and weird dreams very seriously. She knows you’d never cry wolf on her safety— even if your just worried.

—Asra—

Now that you were back in his life he was so very happy!

He knew when he started teaching you about magic again that you had deffinately gotten stronger— His thoughts confirmed when you defeated the devil something no one had ever done before. However he never suspected psychic abilities to be added to the list.

You started having very vivid dreams, it started with just little small weird ones you’d mentioned here and there. Asra took it as merely a coincidence that the baker would be out of his famous pumpkin bread after you mentioned earlier that morning something along the lines of “Hey i had the weirdest dream! The baker ran out of pumpkin bread, he never runs out of pumpkin bread... Maybe i was dreaming about that because WE’VE run out of pumkin bread— which by the way could you be a dear and get some while your out??”

Then it wasn’t just dreams. While walking around the market with Nadia— Nadia exscused herself to go look at something she figured you and Asra weren’t interested in so she’d do it by herself. However you insisted that you and Asra join her because it was the ‘friendly thing to do.’ The three of you were jumped in an assasination attempt on Nadia— the only way it was avoided was because the two most powerful magicians happened to be there at her side, When Nadia asked how you knew to insist on coming with her to keep her safe you simply put; “I had a feeling...”

Asra pieced the prices together. It was never mentioned but you and your group of friends all siliently acknolaged the fact you were psychic and they took your vivid dreams or sudden feelings serious.

—Julian—

Julian was awoken one night from your loud whimpers. When he rolled over he saw you grasping at your pillow and drenched in a cold sweat. Just as he was about to shake you awake your eyes snapped open and filled with tears. “Darling— Darling what happened? It’s okay, its okay, okay?” Julian was just about as frantic as you were when you hugged him.

You describe your horriable nightmare; Julian was in an alley not to far from the rowdy raven, the alley was so small that with his legs laying stretched out in front of him his foot laid flat against the wall he faced, he was putting pressure on a gash in his abdomen. Julian sat there groggily laying his head against the brick wall he was propped up against. You knew that, though the bar was close, it wasn’t close enough for him to walk at the rate he was bleeding and the place you both shared was even further.

Julain hugged you tightly while quietly comforting you. In his mind he chocked it up to the memory of when he saved you from the vampire eel’s in the alley way, the memory turning itself into a nasty nightmare retelling for your own torture. He hated that you had to deal with that, Just as he was about to suggest getting up for the day so you didn’t have to go back to sleep and risk having another nightmare (A habit he had picked up from those sleepless nights he had before he met you) He noticed your quiet whimpers had stoped— replaced by a soft snore. He smiled and laid you down before snuggling next to you. You held onto his hand like a lifeline while you slept. (He stayed awake a little longer to make sure you weren’t going to have another nightmare.)

A few nights later Julian grabbed his jacket with a sigh off the hanger. It was like a weekly ritual that he’d go to the Rowdy Raven to have fun before coming back to a romantic bath with you however tonight he looked less then ecstatic when he pulled on his leather jacket. You and him weren’t fighting really, more like arguing. You didn’t want to go because of the dream you had nights before— However Julian being the ever educated man he is he firmly believed that it was just a normal bad memory twisting itself into a nightmare. “Julian, It was different though! You didn’t have the mark, you weren’t wet from the drain, it wasn’t even the same alley or even the place on your body as the eel bite—“ You continued on in a frustrated manner as you followed him. You’d been following him to get him to change his mind ever since he got up that morning. Julian tuned around quickly to you. “Darling!” Julian exclaimed loudly to get your attention all while letting a little anger slip into his tone, this quickly quieted you since he never normally yelled especially at you. He let out an exsasperated sigh as he cupped your face gently with his hands. “There’s no way a person can predict the future, I’ll be fine, it was just a bad dream and your just getting worried over it. Now— I love you, i swear I do, and I promise I’ll be careful.” Julian reasoned softly before he gave you a quick kiss to your lips. When he pulled away and you still looked worried, possiably even more so, he frowned a little. “A-And, If I’m not back by 11 on the dot you have my full permission to send the Calvary after me to drag me home.” He smiled a little as if to coax you to a smile as well. “Okay.” You mumbled while a soft smile played on your lips.

He hadn’t even been gone but half an hour when that nagging feeling of danger came creeping up your neck yet again. For the first five minutes or so you tried to shake it off as you just being worried but when it didn’t budge you took Asra’s advice; “If you ever have a feeling, don’t ignore it.” So you headed out the raven. Along the way you came upon a familiar place, on familiar cause you’d been there before but familiar because you’d SEEN it somewhere. Your dream, the particular spot you were standing on was just in the foreground of your dream, it was just as lifeless as in the vision. You started looking for the alley way until you found it, you peeked into it to see just what you’d seen in your nightmare. Julian streatched out across the alley way, granted he wasn’t as groggy or bloody as you remember— maybe you’d gotten there sooner then in your dream? He grunted softly while pressing onto the wound, his voice startled you out of your thoughts. Honestly he wasn’t too surprised to see you when you ran over to him to help heal him. That you could do. “How’d this even happen!?” You snapped at him, “Being overly heroic.” Julian laughed out through the pain, he could tell you were mad that he hadn’t taken you seriously.

Now at home, all cleaned up and healed, Julian Devorak set’s out to apologize by making you feel like you’ve gone to heaven. He makes a mental note that not everybody is as paranoid as him and that when you say somethings off he should most deffinately take your word for it.

—Muriel—

You and Muriel were out in town with your friends. Everything was going smoothly— well as smoothly as normal with Julian trying desperately to befriend Muriel, Nadia who wanted to do so many things ranging from walking in townsquar to having dinner despite Muriel wanting to go home. Asra constantly stopping at every stall that caught his eye or roped in by a salesman when he himself knew Muriel hated being in the VERY public stalls. However what made all of this bareable was you who held his hand tightly and periodically checked in on him or helped him out by steering everyone away from certain things or distracting Julian. Well that and the fact that this only happened once in a blue moon. Sure he’d come out with you to get the things they didn’t have at home or to visit Asra but the whole group only ever came out to town together once a month since everyone was always so busy.

everything was normal, Muriel trudged behind everyone with you beside him, or at least you were beside him until you came to a dead stop. While everyone else continued their meaningless banter Muriel turned to see what had caught you eye, only to see you staring blankly forward. “(Y/n)?? ...Can you hear me?” Muriel asked as he waved a hand in front of your face. This was new, you’d never done anything like this before or even remotely similar. Suddenly you blinked and looked around as if you didn’t know where you had been. Asra picked up on the strange feeling and turned to see what was up, this gained Nadia and Julians attention as well. “Hey what’s up?” Julian asked with a raised brow as him and the rest closed in on you.

Your features flooded with fear, “Something bad’s going to happen...” You said quietly, “What? Like you have a bad feeling??” Julian asked, You shook your head. “You.. You saw something?” Asra questioned further, you nodded harshly. “what’d you see?” Nadia asked curiously. Your eyebrows knitted together in concentration before you finally formed an answer; “Fire and... Feathers?” You questioned yourself as you thought back on your vision. Muriel stayed out of the conversation while your freinds asked more questions you couldn’t give straight answers for, you looked up when he felt something splash him. The sky was getting dark, not from nightfall but from a very dark cloud. Before he could even draw attention to it a loud roll of thunder downpour of water did it for him.

Suddenly the pieces clicked in your head when the sky flashed white. “Oh gods! The hut! We have to get home!!” You exclaimed, muriel and Asra seemed to come to the same conclusion you did as evident when you three took off towards the forest in the heavy rain. Nadia stayed behind to call for a carriage but julian followed as well cluelessly.

Just as most of you suspected; when you reached the hut everything was engulfed in flames due to lightening from the first rain of the dry season striking the dry leaves. IT was impossiable to put out a fire this size so you all settled on looking for the chickens and Inanna

LUckily the hunt was finished quickly when Muriel called for her, she answered back quickly. Julian found her hiding under a damp bush to hide from the fire— along with her was the baby chicks and two chickens. It was a small portion of the chickens you and Muriel had but apparently it was all she could save from the chicken hut that was also engulfed in flames. Inanna was burned but the chickens all seemed fine. Muriel carried the large wolf carefully, you carried all the baby chicks, and Julian carried the two hens out of the forest to safety. Nadia was waiting at the forest edge with a big carriage for all of you to get into.

Nadia took everyone back to the palace for the night. You felt horriable about Muriels hut but he didn’t;t seem to mind all the much. To keep your mind off it everyone talked about how crazy it was you had a vison. “Yeah... I feel bad— maybe if i had pieced it together faster we could have saved the hut.” You frowned. “...It’s fine... You can;t stop lightning, If it wasn’t for you the chickens and Inanna wouldn’t have made it out. “ Muriel said quietly from where he sat in the big room. “But aren’t you a little upset about all your stuff?” You questioned. Muriel blushed and shook his head— He wouldn’t ever say it out loud, but as long as you and the animals were okay thats all he cared about.

—Portia—

Portia teased you for having a ‘psychic’ ability when she noticed you’d alway steer her out of danger or move a specific chair so she wouldn’t bump into it later that day. You played it off as you just cleaning up and knowing her well enough to know when she was about to hit something or fall over something.

One day portia was cleaning Lucio’s wing with the other servants. You had been Nadia and Asra all day. POrtia was carrying a big stack of laundry down the stairs, she slipped on one of the last steps only to be caught by you. “Hey!... wait, what are you doing here?” She asked while looking up at you. “Ah well...” You smiled, “They insisted on coming this way.” Asra hummed.

Portias eyes sparkled as she gasped, you knew what was coming. “So you ARE psychic!!!” Portia laughed, “No i just.. I just wanted to go this way and i saw you carrying that hazard.” You made up some exscuse. POrtia didn’t believe it though.

For the next few days she would follow you around secretly.

She found out that you not only protected her from danger but the rest of your freinds as well. Stopping them before a servant with a stack of clothes came around the corner suddenly, telling them it’d be better to stay and have tea with the rest instead of going to the rowdy raven, even going as far as to hide muriel and Julian when Lucio would pop into the room randomly while looking for one of them for some stupid matter. But none of this was ample cause to accuse you of lying to her about not being psychic.

In defeat she sat by the fountain one evening. “Your looking rather down for soemone who’s naturally bouncing off the walls.” Asra’s voice hummed. “Ive been trying to catch (y/n) doing their psychic thing so they’d finally tell me but so far its not really working out...” Portia sighed, asra sat on the fountain with a smile. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, They are.” Asra hummed, Portia shot up. “I KNEW IT!! But why did they lie??” She exclaimed then questioned. “Well, they don’t like people to know. If everyone knew then they’d be coming to them all over for stupid reasons and they’d be cautious over everything.” Asra explained, “buuut the rest of the group knows.” She huffed, “Yes... But not because they told them. Because of experience and because they come to me and I tell them. (Y/n) Doesn’t know they know.” Asra said softly. Portia thought for a moment before thanking him and continuing with her day.

She doesn’t let you know that she knows and she doesn’t push the subject anymore. It’s just like a silient acknolagment.

—Lucio—

Lucio loved magic, especially your magic! But he had to admit— Being able to tell the future just seemed a little impossiable but he did trust you.

So when you told him you didn’t want him out because of a bad feeling you had he laughed and shrugged it off by pridefully saying “Your just being a worry wart my dove! Or perhaps your jealous I’ll pick up some escort?? No need to fear my love, i love you and you only.” Lucio smirked playfully. You seemed agitated that he dismissed it so easily, this hadn’t been the first time he’d ignored your feelings like this.

Normally he blamed it on a coincidence, bad timing, you over heard it while you were half asleep. BUt that didn’t mean bad things still didn’t happen.

And even now when you were so advently telling him not to go— Ha! You telling the count what to do?! The mere thought of being bossed around, even for safety, made his blood boil.

YOu were both angry when he left to do what he pleased. even so, the thought of you being so concerned for his wellbeing that you’d start fighting with him was really off putting for Lucio... He took a sword if not to just calm his worries you’d put in his head.

“someone’s going to kill you! Why don’t you just listen to me damn it!?” Your voice creeped into his mind as he walked in the dark. “You were walking down the main street.” You tried remembering exactly everything you said as he walked the path you mentioned. You couldn’t possiably know what was going to happen! He refused to believe he’d just had a fight for no reason. “There was a loud click and a machine— one I’ve never seen before. It could fit in your hand and shot something like an arrow but small.” Thats just Crazy!

Click

Lucio heard it like a bell in a quiet room, maybe it wasn’t so crazy. “It hit you in the head.” Lucio remember your quivering voice as if you had scene it first hand.

His metal arm flew in front of his face just before a bang similar to a firework went off followed by a loud THINK as the bullet from the shadows ricocheted off Lucio’s golden arm.

He’d be damned it he died like this.

#Headcanon #headcanons #the arcana asra #the arcana julian #the arcana portia #the arcana nadia #the arcana lucio #the arcana muriel

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kwrittink · 5 years ago

Text

Wrong - ABISM

Pairing: F!Reader x AdoptedBrother!Jungkook

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Warnings: language, a tiny bit of belittling

It had been two- no, three - years since you last saw him. Your brother... If you could even call him that. No visits, no calls, not even a letter. He'd be completely out of your life, wasn't for his inevitable successful life, which caused people to talk about him once in a while, not aware of your past. Why would you even tell people you once were Jeon - after he took back his real name and career as the famous missing heir of the family's huge company - JungKook's relative when by that point you were nothing more than a complete stranger?

"Y/N, is the sketch finished already? Boss Min has been waiting for it since you arrived," Mou, secretary of said boss - your boss, precisely - asked, walking up to you and snatching your attention back to reality, the screen of the tablet showcasing an ad of some beauty product under Jeon's name. That's why your mind was wandering off.

"I have the final version already, I'm just waiting for TaeH-"

"I'm here, I'm here!" Kim TaeHyung, TI trainee and probably the best boy you've ever met in your entire life came rushing in, almost knocking stressed Mou out of his way, the art printed into a small poster. "Our printers were all malfunctioning, so I had to go to the copy place- Hope I'm not too late," he breathed out finally, strands of hair glued to his forehead as he tried to catch his breath. You chuckled at him, grabbing the page with one hand and patting the top of his slightly bowed head as you stood up.

"Don't worry, you were just doing me a favor, Tae. I'll pay you a coffee later, 'kay?" You reassured the newbie, then made your way towards your boss' office, happy that the whole printout was exactly the way you imagined it would be. Those sleepless nights wouldn't be wasted, it seemed.

"You know, sometimes it's a little painful to watch him," Mou started, by your side. You had barely noticed she was walking with you and snapped your head towards her startled, what she might have read as a confused look. "The new intern. TaeHyung, I mean."

"What about him?" You asked, now truthfully confused. Mou scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"I'm sure you're not that blind, Y/N... The boy obviously has a crush on you." She whispered, giggling as your eyes widened in surprise.

"Wait TaeHyung? No, he's just really nice. And I'm his mentor, he just wants to please." You waved it off, shaking your head in dismissal. There was no way that a guy like Kim TaeHyung was interested in you. He was really nice to you, but obviously, he was still a youngster, if the gossip was any indication.

Mou snickered, pushing the black glass door that separated the firm's director Min YoonGi from the rest of the world. "Whatever you say then. But keep that in mind when you have your coffee with him today." She advised, and it was your turn to roll your eyes at her before she announced your arrival.

Min YoonGi was someone really easy to deal with, once you did your job. The meeting was short, he had really liked your work and even had asked you to help in the presentation the company would have to the hirer - which meant he wanted you to talk about it. It was good to know your job was recognized, but you've been working hard for a while and was about to ask for a break before you collapsed. Sigh. Maybe after the deal was made.

"Hey, you don't seem so well," a voice came from your right, a small box of doughnut holes from that famous bakery on the building's street appearing into your sight. A smile was immediately plastered on your lips when you turned your face and met the dimpled cheeks of Kim NamJoon - not blood related to earlier mentioned Kim Taehyung -, thick glasses hiding his eye smile.

"You're water for the thirsty men sir," you sighed, picking one treat from the box and practically moaning at the simple yet tasteful ball of happiness. "Also, I can't believe you went to Jin's without me!"

"If you had answered my texts you'd know I was going," he quipped back, shrugging teasingly. You squinted at him, grabbing your phone and seeing that, for it was on silent the whole weekend you had let slip NamJoon's invite for this morning. Tsking, you put it away, snatching the box from his hands.

"Not an excuse mister, you have full access to my house," you countered, and he had the nerve to look coy, looking away in defeat. But in that motion you were able to see the badly hidden hickey painted on the side of his neck, giving you an idea why he didn't invade your apartment that morning. You'd tease him for that later, after figuring out who he had a date with.

"Anyway, be glad there's still some left, I ate most of it on my way here, I was starving,"

"I know you since we were children, you owe me this." Yes. Kim NamJoon, head of TI and the clumsiest guy to walk on earth was your childhood best friend and the only one in your current circle that knew about your past. Even more, JungKook used to admire NamJoon from a young age, and though you two were glued at the hip since even before your brother joined the family, JungKook warmed up pretty well to him. But when JungKook left, he had cut all ties with everyone from his past, embracing the new life presented to him, and leaving an equally devastated NamJoon missing a younger brother. That you couldn't forgive him for.

You got back to your desk, followed by NamJoon that was still after the doughnut holes even after having half a portion. He was stressed with the end of the month, where deadlines piled up and everyone was at each other's throats to get stuff done. You couldn't do much to ease his burden, too piled with your own work to try and help him with his. Besides, you were shit at programming.

"Oh I knew I smelled something familiar- Wait, you went to that patisserie down the street?" A cheerful face peeked from the other cubicle and revealed a handsome man eyeing your food. You quirked an eyebrow at Jung Hoseok, one of your other co-workers and part of said circle of friends. Not that you had that many people you truly enjoy talking to but you liked to live by the company's motto: quality is better than quantity. And that was also why the number of employees was so much less than others in the same area because Min YoonGi liked to hire only the best ones - and because he didn't want to waste time firing people later, you were aware.

For example, Jung Hoseok was an amazing designer, perfectionist and hard-working, even if he looked aloof and happy-go-lucky most of the time. But there was a reason for that, and because he expected from himself only the best, Hoseok - or Hobi, how he was called endearingly - also expected near perfection from his colleagues.

Unconsciously he had put himself in charge of keeping everyone in the line. And if anyone thought he wouldn't impose respect with his light demeanor, better change their mind quickly. The man was sharp and ruthless when disappointed, flipping his entire mood in a matter of seconds. It wasn't a point of him being bipolar or anything, he was just the type of parental figure that you wanted to only be on his good side.

"Not me, NamJoon fetched those before arriving at work. Want one?" Extending the bag at him, you saw how Hobi's eyes twinkled as he fetched a couple of sweets from the bag and chuckled to yourself, thinking he was cute, even if a couple of years older than you.

"Thanks, man I really needed this- Wow that's a hickey, if I've ever seen one," Hoseok was quick to notice as he turned to NamJoon, voice getting louder as he couldn't get a hold of his surprise. Your best friend's eyes widened greatly, apparently not aware that either the bruise was showing or that it was there at all while pulling his collar up. "Sorry dude, I couldn't help it, just... Sorry." Hoseok winced again, retreating to his desk while NamJoon glanced around in a panic to access who had heard the announcement. Apparently no one, but the crew had a sharp ear, you were aware. You just hoped Mou - who had a massive crush on him since he joined but never had the courage to tell him - hadn't heard it too.

Sighing, you got up your chair, grabbing NamJoon's hand and your purse in the other, meeting his lost puppy eyes. "C'mon, I'll fix this up. But you owe me an explanation, mister." You demanded while dragging him to the unisex room.

Your only regret was leaving the doughnut holes on top of your table, easy prey for all the wolves in the section.

The meeting was first thing in the morning, so you arrived an hour earlier to avoid any accidents and had a spare outfit in your bag if anything - NamJoon and his clumsy ass - were to happened to the cute but professional outdo you had put together so carefully. Mou was the first to greet you in the morning, her smile not quite reaching her eyes - maybe she had heard Hoseok's outburst the day before after all - as she handed you a cup with coffee and the keys to the meeting room.

You sighed. It was a tiring job the one you had, but it was at the same time fulfilling and well-paid. Min Yoongi was strict as he did expect everyone to work hard, but he was extremely fair when it came to paychecks. Every single extra thing the employees did was taken into account and correctly inserted into your account - including that one presentation you were to do for him.

"You're early today huh?" As if by summoning, a sleepy toned voice echoed through the room while you arranged your things - jolt of surprise barely concealed, and you could hear his quiet snicker when he noticed - and Min YoonGi entered the room. "Wouldn't expect any less of you."

You turned to him with a small smile, acknowledging his compliment, and waiting for what he had to say. YoonGi wouldn't show up before the meeting for no reason at all, you were aware. "So, I'm sure you read about our employers and are well-prepared for this but," He started, and suddenly your blood started to run cold. But? That's never good. He's going to make my life difficult, I feel it!

"The thing is, that company was recently bought by another one - don't look so scared, nothing has changed technically - and now you're going to be meeting the new owners, so just wanted to give you a heads up." The way he spoke was clearly as if he was casually mentioning that he had coffee in the morning and had an easy trip to the job today, but his words still couldn't avoid your internal panicking. Still, you nodded, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat, because you were a good designer, but could handle so much pressure. At least the whole ordeal wouldn't be changed. You breathed out.

"Okay boss, I'll handle this to the best of my abilities," you assured him, trying to put a brave face to the man that had hired you but was usually treating you like a sister/daughter he kept at arm's length. Even the satisfying glint of his eyes wasn't unnoticed by you, a sign of trust in your words.

"Good. Now, they have arrived earlier than expected, you think we can start or should make them stick to the schedule?" At that point Min YoonGi was definitely taunting you, corner of his mouth twitching slightly with undisclosed humor. You rolled your eyes.

"Send them in, I'm ready." Was what you answered, but minutes later you would regret that sentence immensely. Maybe you should have trusted your gut for once, as it told you that something was not right the moment your boss stepped outside the meeting room to get the new employers.

Because your smile faltered upon seeing that the man following your boss back inside was no less than - and that for some reason wasn't unexpected - Jeon JungKook.

So this is the layout we had and the whole process our team worked on with the previous employer - Mr. Park right here can confirm," you smiled warmly at the man who was accompanying the new owner for the meeting, glad of his reassuring and soothing presence. "But we are completely open to discussion and suggestions if the idea isn't to Mr. Jeon's interest." You tried to keep smiling as you glanced at the man who once had been part of your family now standing at the other side of the table with a completely unreadable expression while glaring at you.

"Well, I think we don't think that much different right?" Park Jimin, later owner - now co-owner of the 'ARMY' clothing line - nudged JungKook's arm to snap him back from staring at you so blatantly. YoonGi cleared his throat softly by the end of the table.

"Yes, we'll discuss some more of this project in the future, but for now it's fine," he said, and you had to restrain from quirking at eyebrow at him, though you could feel droplets of sweat trickling down your neck. Fine? "Next time though, I'd like to hold a meeting on my grounds, if that's okay with you?" And then he fucking turned to your boss, as if you weren't the one busting your ass in the last half hour explaining a project almost set to happen all over again.

"I think you should ask Miss Y/L/N, she's the one responsible for this," JiMin piped up again, and you were so glad he did, but not as how that forced the arrogant face of that other man to look back at you as if he was too tired to repeat his question.

"Won't be a problem, sir. We'll-"

"We? Weren't you the head of this project alone?" A frown creased deep between JungKook's eyebrows, as he looked down to his phone - probably checking his schedule -, already up and ready to leave. JiMin got up as well, seems to be confused by his partner's behavior, and you bit the side of your cheek in anger.

"Of course Miss Y/L/N is the prime creator of this whole entrepreneur," this time it was Min YoonGi's time to sprout into the conversation, and you were thankful he did before you said something insolent. "But to avoid being persuaded for any side whatsoever, she will be taking one from the team with her to the meeting - having in mind that Mr. JiMin will also be attending to keep it balanced."

For some reason, it looked like Jeon was taken by surprise, for his eyes widened for a moment before glancing at your boss. He wouldn't think we'd meet completely alone now, would he?

"Right, exactly. Mr. Park and I will be the only ones present, so it's only fair. I shall then talk to your secretary? I have a few days available."

"N-no JungKook, I think this you'll have to discuss with Miss Y/N, she's the one that's going to meet us there..." And just like that JungKook seemed to have lost his pose of nonchalant, seeming exasperated to leave the room but needing to face you one more time before doing so.

"Next Tuesday at 8 am at the north building?" What was he trying to do, set a romantic date or a professional one? Because either the case, he was failing miserably. You grabbed your mobile from the table, expression still stern and serene.

"I'll put it on the schedule. It's okay with you if I take Kim TaeHyung with me, boss?" You slightly turned to the man that looked as amused as someone would be while watching a drama unfold. He was only missing a snack.

"Sure, though he's a trainee..." The little squint your boss gave you was enough to tell you he was onto something about this whole thing - and if you could bet, you'd say he was thinking of something along the lines of ex-lovers or some other cheesy crap he secretly loved so much.

Thought it was much, much more complicated than that.

"It's good for him to learn on the job, plus his skills will help me, I'm sure." You explained, receiving a shrug in response from your boss. That was that then.

"We're all set then, I'm glad!" Park JiMin chirped, extending his hand at you. "It was really nice seeing you again Miss. Y/N, keep a great job!" He complimented after you shook his hand back with a small bow and a smile. Jeon's hand also appeared in front of you, for grasping.

"Till we meet again, Miss. Y/L/N." He said as you did the same to him, after a beat of hesitancy. It was somehow hurtful the way he said your family name in such an easy, detached way. As if he never was under it in the past, for so many years.

And it was in that way you realized the abysm between the two of you, the gap that separated your worlds definitely and clearly. He was no one to you, and you were no one to him.

________________________ masterlist

#wrong!jungkook #bts jeon jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader

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virryth · 5 years ago

Text

Doctor!AU Jihoon

a hbd to Jihoon;; love him so much can’t wait to see him in Jan

tw// mentions of wound, blood, mild violence

Read Doctor!AU Junhui | More Jihoon au | More SVT au

1.7k | Fluff | Bullet | Not proofread

Vice-head chief doctor for the ER (trauma unit)

Famous for his quick, spot-on judgement for emergency care and his blunt personality

Can be reckless at times and gets scolded so many times for jumping the fence on hospital protocols

Did he maybe hit the patient with his fist in an ambulance to get their heart moving because they wouldn’t make it to the ER? Sure.

Performed emergency surgeries at the scene of the incident? A few times.

but hey his methods worked and he saved countless of patients in the end so really who’s losing

Rumored to have a criminal record

Not many people know but Jihoon has a pretty strong sense of justice, he once punched the daylight out of a guy when he found out the dude sexually assaulted his patient

Actually spent a day in jail and had to get bailed out by Wonwoo, but the other guy ended up in jail too so it’s worth it in his book

Honestly looks so good in the scrub, fills it all up, hair slicked back, clear translucent skin with the face of an angel

Possesses such a cute smile and the most pleasant laughter, one of the reasons the nurses and his fellow colleagues adore him (also very popular with the elderly)

Except when there’s an unusually busy night, catch Dr. Lee looking like hell, hair is either disheveled and messy from running his hands through them when he’s frustrated or just plainly under a rubber headband and kept out of his face

Scrubs either has specks of blood or some sort of dirt from wrestling restraining rowdy troublemaker visitors in the ER

Usually spotted resuscitating a patient while kneeling on top of a moving crash cart, or running around giving consultations for other trauma on-call attendants

Do not even breath the wrong way around him when he’s busy trying to figure out the cause of a patient’s symptoms

Dr. Lee will sit there and think until he’s found a solution

Will sometimes venture to other wards to consult with the other doctors if he has time. Jihoon can be stubborn, but he knows how valuable the experiences of his colleagues can be, especially when it’s as important as accurately diagnosing and treating patients

Both new and long-time interns are terrified of Dr. Lee from trauma unit, they all avoid him like the plague because those who worked with him have only claimed it to be one of the most stressful nights of their medical career

Some came out so shocked they ended up transferring

But;;; it’s not all bad, he’s hard on the interns because residency is the only time period where mistakes are allowed, he has to make sure they know that lives are at stake if they’re going to become good doctors in the future

The very small few who survived his supervisions all ended up learning a LOT from him because scary or not, everybody and their grannies have the utmost respect for Jihoon

The ER is the most hectic and traumatizing place in the hospital, on top of the physical strains there’s also a lot of emotional stressors that get him down once in a while

And those moments are when his true personality shine through, boy is sweet and so soft, but only to you and his close friends though, anyone else see that and he’s all hardass hauling the interns again

“He was worse in med school,” pediatric surgeon Junhui spilled at a team dinner, “one semester during exam season, he wouldn’t come back for three days and we find him passed out in the library with textbooks under his head.”

“We thought he had fainted or something, turned out he was just hungry,” medic Soonyoung chimed in, nudging Wonwoo to continue spilling the tea.

“He woke up so angry because he missed hours of study, we had to deal with that attitude for a week. He was such a d*ck.”

“Yeah, that’s my reason. What’s yours?” Jihoon countered, taking a shot.

(am i saying ‘96 line went to med school and spent their residency together yes I am)

You know the boys from way back when you were interns during your residency

In fact, on his first day of work, Jihoon was admitted to the hospital due to an explosion injury

He wasn’t even directly involved, he was just a bystander rushing in to help when he spotted multiple MVCs (motor vehicle collisions) on the highway on the way to work, and while working on the injured patients, one of the cars had exploded nearby

Still has a decent-size burnt scar on his back to this day, but doesn’t regret it one bit

Jihoon does anything and everything in his power to save people, even if he has to put his life on the line

Patient bleeding out during transit and there’s not enough blood in the ambulance? Here, take his if it matches.

Need a hand shouldering debriefs from a collapsing structure to rescue a patient? On it.

Vernon from ortho came by once, “hey dude your wrist is bleeding.”

Jihoon: cut myself pulling an earring out of someone’s throat, what’s up?”

Vernon: yikes,,, anyway still up for lunch? :D

That’s kind of his main philosophy, and yours, because you didn’t hesitate one bit when you head straight into the fire to save him

It’s because of this mild case of recklessness that you both often get sent to dispatch on evac copters to save people at extremely remote locations

And you’re amazing at it, but more often than not you both usually end up in Junhui’s pediatric ward getting bandaged up while looking at babies

Really popular with the kids by the way, everyone loves getting a piggy-back ride from Dr. Lee when he comes by

Knows all of the the long-term patients by names and is so loved by the kids it’s honestly not fair

Medic Soonyoung knows Jihoon the longest and apparently he was even more reckless way back then as an EMT, but he’s mellowed down a lot since he became a doctor

As head chief, you cut him waaaay too many slacks and all the residents know it

But they also know he’s the best in the field so they just let him do whatever

But that doesn’t mean he gets away all the time, you still scold him when needed, and Jihoon has actually toned it down a lot since you became head chief because he knows ultimately you’re the one shouldering the responsibilities for his actions

He knows you would stick up for him no matter what because of how much you value his skills, and he doesn’t want to disappoint you in any way

“You know they’re not doing this just for your skills, right?”

“Don’t do that shrink thing on me, Wonwoo, it gives me the creeps.”

“He’s right and you know it,” Junhui teased.

“Shut up.”

Jihoon is so shy about his feelings for you, hence he speaks more with his actions

Often takes you out for dinner, or brunch, or home, after your shift when you’re too tired to drive

Brings you breakfast in the morning after a night shift and tries to shoulder most of the traumatizing cases when he can

Honestly he’s still doing his job, but during breaks, he makes sure to hang around and is always ready to come in three seconds max if you ever call his name

And sure, although he puts himself in danger way too many times, you know he only wants to help

But that doesn’t stop you from worrying, his mindset of giving his all to save others is what’s gonna get him killed one day

On your day off, you often meet up and hand out, running errands and going to the movies to catch up on whatever pop-culture content you missed during the busy on-call shifts

And it’s so platonic, or at least that’s what you keep telling yourself because you honestly never know sometimes

One moment he’s resting his arm over your shoulder, softly speaking to you about what to order from the fast food menu. It’s so intimate you could hear your own heartbeats in your ears

Then suddenly he’s getting shy and conscious of how close you are

But then he holds you much a little too close to shield you from the rain as you share an umbrella

And you thought maybe that’s just who he is, he’s protective and skinship may come unexpectedly and unconsciously when he feels comfortable around people

Jihoon would say you were starting to sound like Wonwoo if he knew what you were thinking

It wasn’t until half the movie that you caught him staring

You had thought he had something to say, so you leaned in and waited

Truly, you didn’t expect to be kissed

And brief as it came, Jihoon had diverted his attention back to the big screen, picking up popcorn and chuckling when he saw the expression on your face

True to his profession, Wonwoo was the first to notice, he had been making jokes about how you two would end up together one day–a common topic among your circle of friends–and Jihoon choked on his coffee

They had kept it on the down low since the both of you had decided to keep it out of work

But things have definitely changed with the glances you noticed whenever he’s in the same room

There was so much affection in his gaze that you start to think maybe he’s been doing this for some time, it just took you this long to notice

You also find out that Jihoon is a lot more daring than you’d pegged him to be, and oh so subtle with his touches

Hand hovering on the lower part of your back to catch you in case you stumble, stolen kisses in the elevator, head touches and comforting hugs in the break room when you had time to take a breath

And yet you never got caught, it’s amazing how quick he turns back to strict Dr. Lee around the intern the moment he parts way with you

Occasionally Jihoon would join you in the empty corner near the supply’s closet, cooling your heads and leaning on each other to regain a sense of comfort and familiarity when things didn’t go well in the ER

He would hold your hand, leaning in to you and softly whispering into your hair about the gains and losses in life, sometimes about the future, where you would travel on your next vacation and what you would do together

The ER is a tricky placement, sometimes you witness the miracle of life, sometimes the end of it. It’s a battlefield almost every single day, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world

Not with Jihoon by your side.

–V

Read Doctor!AU Junhui | More Jihoon au | More SVT au

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vengeancedemons · 5 years ago

Text

devil hit his second stride // self para (pt 1)

summary: In Hell, Robbie runs into a familiar face who convinces him to stop wallowing in self pity and make a move to stop his uncle from ripping his life to shreds. trigger warnings: hell, death, mentions of violence featuring: robbie reyes, phil coulson, mentions of elias morrow, gabriel reyes, daisy johnson ( @daisyquakes ), and jessica jones ( @goddamndumbass ) word count: 4320 no one SAY ANYTHING

There were a lot of metaphors about Hell, a lot of famous quotes invoking the word. Robbie had read up on them after his death and subsequent resurrection, studied them as if they might somehow hold answers to what happened to him. Churchill famously instructed those who were going through Hell to keep going. Twain once quipped that one should go to Heaven for the climate, but Hell for the company. Sartre claimed that Hell was other people. Robbie had gathered a whole collection of quips and quotes, a whole world of things writers and politicians and activists said were Hell, because he’d known the deal he’d made to save his own life only had one end result and he’d wanted to be prepared. He’d been an idiot, in that regard.

There was no preparing for Hell.

There was no making it easier. You couldn’t “keep going,” no matter how easy Churchill made it sound. You didn’t enjoy the company the way Twain joked that you might. The other people Sartre had feared were just as lost, just as tortured, just as absorbed in the terribleness of it all as you were. No metaphor Robbie had come across had managed to do justice to the real thing. Hell was Hell. There was no other way of describing it, no way of putting it into terms the average person would understand. You either knew it or you didn’t. You’d either been there or you couldn’t possibly imagine it. And Robbie could imagine it well.

It was different, this time around. The last time (the last two times, rather), he’d at least gone out on his own terms. He’d chosen to exit stage left with Eli’s shoulders gripped in his hands. He decided to take the Darkhold back to where it belonged even if that meant he’d wind up where he belonged, too. And the people he’d cared about hadn’t been left in the best positions, but at least he’d known they’d be okay. He’d known Daisy would look out for Gabe, had known that Coulson would keep an eye on the SHIELD agents he’d begrudgingly come to tolerate. There hadn’t been an awful lot to fear.

This time was different.

With Eli running around in Robbie’s skin, there was no overselling the shitstorm that was waiting for the people he cared for. Daisy, who’d taken up residence on his couch the last few months, would be a burden Eli wouldn’t want to put up with. Jessica, who was almost a friend as much as someone you’d once nearly plowed over with your car could hope to be, would be an inconvenience his uncle wouldn’t want to deal with. And Gabe… It was too much to hope that Eli would leave Gabe out of things. It was too much to wish that his brother might remain blissfully ignorant in L.A. while their uncle wreaked havoc in New York. Whatever Eli had planned, Gabe would undoubtedly be caught in the crossfire the same way he had the night of that street race, when the Fifth Street gang saw Eli’s car and open fired with no regard for who was actually inside. And Robbie was powerless to stop any of it.

Shit, he was worse than powerless. The last time he’d been in Hell, he’d at least had the limited protection of the Rider keeping him out of the worst of it. It meant giving up control more often than not, but it made him relatively difficult to harm. Just like on Earth, the Rider had protected Robbie from damage in Hell. He’d made sure Robbie won most of the fights he got into, ensured that anyone who fucked with them had a generally bad day. Eli made sure Robbie was without that protection this go around, and that must have been intentional in more ways than one. His uncle had wanted the power of the Ghost Rider, beyond shadow of a doubt… but he’d also wanted to make sure Robbie was without it. And he’d absolutely succeeded in that.

You couldn’t die in Hell. Robbie figured that out his very first day, when he’d looked down at his chest to see a blade sticking out of it, rusted and bloody. You felt every ounce of pain dealt out to you, felt the way your heart tore itself to shreds as it beat around metal, felt your lungs fill up with blood and dust until there was no room left to breathe, but you couldn’t die. It was like one of the shitty video games Gabe used to play --- you bled, you ached, you faded away, and you popped back up someplace else to do it all again. Death would have been far easier. Anything would have been easier. Everyone there knew it.

It was why he’d also learned another important lesson his first Rider-less day in Hell. He’d learned about a rumor, a legend that desperate souls accepted as truth because there had to be some kind of end to all of this. It was a Fifth Street goon who’d blurted it out to him, a man terrified of Robbie who’d never even met the Rider. (Robbie had taken care of plenty of gang members without the Devil making an appearance at all, in the early days. There had been so much anger and nowhere to put it. It was inevitable.)

‘There’s a story,’ the man had said, practically blubbering at the mere sight of the man who had taken his life. ‘If you take out the guy who killed you down here, you get out. You get to move on.’

‘Move on to what?’ Robbie had demanded, but the man hadn’t known. All he had known, all he had heard was that removing the person responsible for your presence in Hell from its depths meant a ticket to someplace else. And everyone figured that nothing could possibly be worse than this.

So they fought. They beat each other to death only to yield no result when the person they were trying so desperately to remove appeared again out of their reach, breathing oxygenless through deceased lungs. It was utterly pointless and they knew it, but it was the only thing they knew how to do. It was the Fifth Street member who’d told him the legend that taught Robbie what happened when you died in Hell, putting a sword through his back the moment he turned away and shrugging unapologetically when Robbie turned back to him. ‘I just had to try it,’ the man said, ‘just once.’ And the expression on his face made it clear that whatever he’d hoped would happen wasn’t happening and Robbie had died and come back for what wasn’t the first time and certainly wouldn’t be the last.

Robbie didn’t know if the legend had a grain of truth to it. For him, he didn’t guess it mattered much either way. He couldn’t get rid of the person responsible for sending him to Hell, and it wasn’t because his uncle was out of reach. No, Robbie couldn’t get rid of the guy responsible for his current predicament because it wasn’t Eli at all. The only person Robbie had to blame for his presence in the underworld was Robbie. He was the one who sold his soul to the Devil for a prize he’d already won. He was the one who’d been clueless to the fact that his uncle was being driven mad right in front of his eyes. He was the one arrogant enough to believe he could make a quick day trip to Hell and pluck a soul from damnation without facing any kind of consequence. The worst person in Robbie’s life, the one responsible for every goddamn shitshow he was a part of, had always lived in the fucking mirror. He’d always known that.

And so, with no way of knowing what was going on up above and no hope of finding his way out of Hell any time soon, he focused on survival. He focused on dying as little as possible, on staying away from the Fifth Street gang members he’d gifted with all-expense-paid tickets to Hell and avoiding Lucy Bauer and her gaggle of scientists whose ghosts he’d torn from their places on Earth and keeping distance between himself and all the trash he’d taken out since the Rider brought him back from the dead. Some days, he did okay. Some days, he bled out a hundred times an hour. It was a matter of luck more than anything else.

Today, he was doing all right. The safe spot he’d found would be burned by tomorrow --- news of people’s whereabouts traveled quickly in Hell, especially when the person in question was one that large groups of souls were seeking out --- but for the moment, his feet were on solid ground and his blood wasn’t spilling from his veins. He didn’t know how long he’d been here. Time moved differently in Hell, crawled by one moment and sped up the next. His first go-round, he’d tried to keep count. He’d tallied up what he’d thought might have been days in his head, counted them into months and years. By his count, he’d been in Hell nearly a hundred years then, but when he got back to Earth he’d found only months had passed. He hadn’t bothered counting when he brought the Darkhold back. His high school teachers might have frequently assigned him the title of slow learner, but he could take a lesson when it was obvious and this one was. Time in Hell was relative.

And there was no sense counting it up when you knew it wasn’t going to end.

It was a realization he’d come to rather quickly, after Eli tossed him out. He went from fighting a battle in the back of his own mind to staring out at all-too-familiar fiery slopes, and he’d known in an instant that this was how things would be for him now. No one could be lucky enough to escape Hell three times, especially now that he didn’t have Ghost Rider’s powers to fall back on. This time, Robbie figured, he was here to stay.

So he focused on the moment in front of him. He focused on the fact that, today, he wasn’t fighting off old enemies, wasn’t killing the same people over and over again or dying so many times that he barely had enough time to draw breath between one slaughter and the next. And he was wound tight and jumping at the slightest sound, but so was everyone. That was a side effect of Hell, and there was no shot at ever avoiding it.

It was lucky, he supposed, that he stopped to look before putting the blade he’d stolen off an old New York City gang member through the chest of the person who walked up behind him. Most days, Robbie wouldn’t have bothered. After so long in Hell, he’d lost any hope that anyone he met wouldn’t strike him down where he stood. But this time… This time, the familiar face that greeted him wasn’t one of the gang members he’d taken out in New York or L.A. It wasn’t the ghost of some scientist who’d worked with his uncle, wasn’t a wannabe supervillain with a justified grudge. It was, perhaps, a man whose death Robbie was still responsible for, but not one who would kill him for it.

Robbie’s shoulders dropped at the sight of him, grip slackening on the switchblade he’d been white-knuckling. He closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing thickly before letting them slide back open to reveal that the figure was still there, still watching him with inquisitive eyes. They stayed like that for a moment, a pair of ghosts staring into eyes they’d thought they’d seen the last of, each waiting on the other to make the first move. Finally, Robbie shifted enough to make room for another body to sit on the ground beside him, and his newfound companion moved forward to take the silent invitation.

“I’d heard you were back,” Coulson said quietly. “Didn’t want to believe it.”

“Yeah, well,” Robbie sighed, scrubbing a hand across his face, “seems like I’ve got a hard time staying away.”

“Haven’t heard anything about the other guy popping back up,” Coulson prodded, and Robbie tasted bile in the back of his throat, which was stupid. There was no bile in his stomach, no food that could threaten to make its way back up. He hadn’t eaten since a slice of cold pizza Daisy left on the counter just a few hours before Eli made his presence known, and while he hadn’t been keeping track of the hours he knew there were a hell of a lot of them between now and then.

“It’s just me this time,” he said, tasting ash in his mouth with the words, because Coulson would want to know why. He would want to know how, and if he asked, Robbie was going to tell him. Robbie would blurt out everything, everything, and while Coulson might not hold what happened to him after he let the Rider into his head against Robbie, he knew the man would never forgive him if anything happened to Daisy. And right now, in this moment? Robbie couldn’t promise that she was okay.

“Is it like what happened before?” Coulson pressed, because, in spite of his unassuming outward appearance, he was still a spy. He was still one of the best agents SHIELD had ever had, and Robbie was still a fairly shitty liar. “It went into someone else, like it did with Mack?”

Robbie couldn’t look at him. He kept his eyes down on his hands, on the stolen switchblade with blood rusting the metal. He couldn’t remember now if the blood was there when he got it or if he’d put it there himself. He didn’t think it made much of a difference. “Not exactly,” he replied after a long pause, because Coulson would read a silence just as easily as a lie.

Another silence stretched between them, a canyon of stillness as Coulson looked at Robbie and Robbie looked anywhere else. “Robbie,” Coulson said, his voice somehow firm and gentle at the same time, and Robbie had never been the sort of person who held his heart on his sleeve but fuck, it took every ounce of strength in him not to cry.

Coulson, he realized with the smallest ounce of hysteria in his thoughts, sounded like what he’d always figured a father might sound like. He was nothing like Alberto Reyes, who’d walked out long before Robbie had a clear picture of his face saved into memory. He was nothing like Elias Morrow, who’d been more than willing to send Robbie to Hell for his own selfish gain. Coulson was the closest thing Robbie had seen in his life to a decent goddamn father figure, and what had Robbie shown him in return? He’d gotten him sent to Hell.

He’d probably gotten Daisy killed.

Robbie felt very cold all of a sudden, a shiver going down his spine. Eli said once that there was meaning to that, joked about it when Robbie was a child getting used to having an uncle where he’d once had a mother and father. That means someone is walking over the place where you’ll be buried, he’d said, feigning seriousness until Robbie’s eyes widened and he couldn’t hold back a laugh. Robbie always wondered if it was true. He wondered what his grave would look like now, if he’d have one. Was a grave yours if the body in it hadn’t belonged to you, in the end? Were you still a person if someone else was walking around in your skin? At what point did a man become a ghost?

“It was Eli,” he said, so sudden it surprised even himself. “It was… When you saw us, before, me and Daisy, Eli followed us out somehow. He hitched a ride inside my head. Rode around up there for months until he had the strength to…” Robbie trailed off, that phantom nausea tugging at his gut again, compelling him to expel food he hadn’t eaten from a body he didn’t have. “He kicked me out. He’s running around up there in my skin, with my face, with --- With the Rider in my head with him. And I don’t, I don’t know how to stop him. I don’t think I can stop him.”

The sea of information settled between them, and Robbie could swear he saw the words floating in the air, fading in and out of existence as Coulson processed it all. He didn’t know if the shock on the agent’s face was because of the tale he’d spun, the fact that it was more words than he’d probably ever heard Robbie say in one sitting, or some mixture of the two. The silence was a heavy one, a weight on his chest that he didn’t know how to breathe around. And he didn’t need to breathe down here, not when he was already dead, but he still felt as if he was suffocating. When he tore his eyes from the switchblade to risk a glance in Coulson’s direction, the man was looking at him with an unreadable expression and Robbie wondered if he might break his day-long streak of not being covered in his own blood. And god, he would have let him. If Coulson tried to take the knife from his hand and drive it through his fucking skull in that moment, Robbie would have let him.

Finally, Coulson shifted, breaking the silence with the question Robbie had known was coming. “Does Daisy know?” And even though he’d known Coulson would ask, it was a punch to the goddamn gut. Robbie closed his eyes again, letting his head drop. He would have preferred the knife to the skull, he thought. He would have preferred anything else.

“I don’t know,” he replied, so quiet he wasn’t sure Coulson would be able to hear it. He wasn’t sure he wanted Coulson to hear it, wasn’t sure he wanted the other man to know. Robbie had failed Daisy, and he didn’t even know how deep that failure went. He didn’t even know if she was alive right now, didn’t know if Eli would try to fool her or if he’d kill her the moment she walked into the apartment. At one point, he might have liked to think he knew his uncle well enough to predict his next move, but now? Now, Robbie wasn’t sure he’d ever known Eli at all. He’d never taken Eli for a murderer, but he was one. He’d never taken Eli for a narcissist, but he’d nearly gotten his entire fucking family killed in order to pursue his own selfish goals.

He’d never believed Eli was capable of hurting him, but he’d sent him to Hell without a hint of hesitation.

There was a sound off to the side, a quiet click of Coulson’s tongue as he mulled the new information over, and Robbie wondered if this was the part where the knife would slip from his hand to Coulson’s, if this was where he’d die and respawn someplace else, ready to die again. He braced for a blow that didn’t come, prepared for an imaginary hit. Instead, Coulson sighed. Robbie opened his eyes, glanced over at the man cautiously. Coulson was staring at him, studying him intently as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, deep in thought. Finally, he broke the silence with a question: “So what are you going to do about it?”

Robbie blinked, eyes wide as the words settled into his head. He opened his mouth and closed it. Once, twice, three times. Finally, he spoke, and the confusion was clear in his tone. “What?”

“What are you going to do about it?” Coulson repeated, and the words made just as little sense this time as they had before because what? Robbie was in Hell. He had no access to Earth, no way of knowing what was happening there, and certainly no way to stop it. He didn’t have a plan because he had no options.

“What can I do about it?” He asked, incredulous.

Coulson quirked a brow, looking so utterly unimpressed that Robbie had to run through his story again in his head, had to look for the parts he’d missed in his situation that made Coulson believe he had anything resembling options here. He came up short, again and again. If he had choices, he had no idea what they were. And still, Coulson looked like he was missing something obvious.

Finally, the agent seemed to take pity on Robbie with a sigh, shaking his head. “Robbie,” he said patiently, sounding very much like a man preparing to explain something simple to a particularly stupid toddler, “your body is still your body. Isn’t it?”

“I… guess so?” Robbie wasn’t sure what he was getting at, didn’t know what this had to do with anything. His body was still his body, but it wasn’t accessible. It was up on Earth and he was down in Hell and it wasn’t like there was an express train he could take to get back to it.

“And it’s still alive,” Coulson pushed, and Robbie tilted his head to the side, still not understanding the relevance.

“I don’t think it would do Eli much good to kill it,” he allowed, because that would really defeat the purpose of whatever Eli had planned. Besides, Robbie didn’t think the Rider would let his body die, even if Robbie wasn’t in it. The guy needed something to hitch a ride in, didn’t he?

“So your body is alive,” Coulson continued slowly, “and your soul is alive.”

“Is that what we are?” Robbie questioned. “Souls?” He’d never given it much thought before and, given Coulson’s expression, it wasn’t a conversation they had time for now, either.

“I don’t think you understand the point,” Coulson said which, fair. Robbie definitely didn’t understand the point of whatever it was Coulson was getting at, but whose fault was that? Coulson was the one being a cryptic old bastard, as if SHIELD and its shitty secrecy was an important thing in Hell. Robbie sighed, shaking his head and motioning for Coulson to just come out and say whatever obvious thing he was missing. “If your soul is alive and your body is alive,” Coulson said, finally taking enough pity on Robbie to spell the damn thing out, “that means you’re alive, Robbie. You aren’t dead. You’re just lost.”

“I’m not lost,” Robbie argued, because he was nothing if not contrary. “I know exactly where I am. I’m in Hell, Coulson. What’s it matter if my body’s alive if I can’t get to it.”

“Have you tried?” Coulson sounded angry now and Robbie remembered that, while he sounded fatherly in the way none of the men in Robbie’s life ever had, he wasn’t Robbie’s father. He was a guy who’d found Robbie at a strange time in his life and offered him guidance he hadn’t known he’d needed, but he wasn’t his father. If Coulson was a father figure to anyone, it was the person up on Earth with the body he was demanding he try to find a way back to. Fathers, when they were decent, protected the people they cared for. And right now, for Coulson, that wasn’t Robbie.

It was Daisy.

And Robbie got it. He really did. If it had been Gabe in trouble, he’d be angry too. He’d be chastising whoever he was with and demanding they do something, but what was there to be done? “People don’t just walk out of Hell, Coulson,” he snapped.

“Didn’t you do that?” Coulson retorted. “Multiple times?”

“Yeah, with a demon in my head and a chain that could open portals to other dimensions. You see either of those things laying around now?”

“What if I had a way?”

Robbie’s head snapped up, and he searched Coulson’s face for any hint of humor and came up short. “You got a way out of Hell,” he repeated slowly, “and you… What? Waited ‘til now to bring it up?”

“I have a rumor,” Coulson amended, and that made more sense. Rumors were like currency down here. They passed from person to person, gained value where they went. Everyone was looking for an out of some kind or another, but no one had ever found one.

“Rumors are usually bullshit,” Robbie pointed out, looking back down to his switchblade and twirling it in his fingers absently. “Plenty of rumors about ways out, but I never heard of anybody actually making it. You know why that is?” He paused, though not long enough for Coulson to answer before he provided the answer all his own: “Because the rumors are fucking horseshit.”

“Or because the wrong people are trying,” Coulson countered. “Look, this rumor says it’s a door. The only people who can pass through it are people who shouldn’t be here. Like, for example, someone living?”

“Or a good man who didn’t earn his spot,” Robbie replied, the realization springing on him all at once. “Shit, Coulson, if this thing’s real…”

“We could both get out,” Coulson confirmed with a nod. Robbie sucked in a breath through his teeth, weighing their options. If it were just him with a shot to get out of Hell, he wasn’t sure he’d take it. The thought of getting his hopes up just to have them dashes was somehow worse than the idea of never trying at all. But if this could mean a second chance for Coulson, too…

Robbie looked up, a newfound determination in his eyes. “Well, shit,” he sighed, shaking his head. “What do we have to lose?”

#self para tag tbd #p: devil hit his second stride #hell tw #violence tw #death tw

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winterisakillerwrites · 5 years ago

Text

Love & Great Buildings - Chapter Two

Chapter: 2/19

Character/Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Rosemary Mathews (OFC)

Genre: Romance/Angst

Summary: Three years have passed and a chance encounter brings Tom and Rosie together again. Can time make any difference or are they doomed to repeat their mistakes.

Rating: M

Author’s Notes/Warnings: This is part nine of Last Minutes & Lost Evenings. Many thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff for listening to me ramble incessantly about this story and being a sounding board when I needed it. You are a lifesaver, even if your stories break my heart.

CHAPTER TWO

“So, how was it?” Jules fired as Rosemary pushed her way into Stories Untold the next morning.

She shot the tall redhead a glare which softened upon seeing the mug of coffee that had been thrust in her direction. She grabbed it and took a grateful sip. Caffeine, she mused. Heaven.

Seeing Rosemary’s shoulders relax, Jules plowed onward. “Details. I need details. Did you have fun? How much did we raise? Did you talk to anyone famous?” Her eyes had taken on the manic gleam that Rosemary customarily saw only during the run up to a major holiday sales run or anticipated date nights. There was little that could be done to soften the fervor, but it might be postponed…

Rosemary threw her free hand up in plaintive surrender. “One question at a time, Jules, please. My blood caffeine level is not up to your rapid fire demands just yet. Take pity on me.”

A sigh was Jules only answer and Rosemary took the welcome reprieve as a chance to finish her coffee and actually place her belongings in the office. And once her coffee had been finished and her purse and coat secured, she’d surrendered wholly to Jules’ excited frenzy.

Yes, it had been a rather nice time. And yes, she had in fact rubbed elbows with more than a few well knowns. Jules had been particularly interested in her chat with Colin Firth. And yes, they’d managed to raise a great deal more readies than either of them had anticipated. Jules beamed, demanding as many details as Rosemary could remember. She’d indulged as best she could while they filled the register and readied the store for opening.

Rosemary did not, however, once mention her encounter with Tom. While Jules had cooled in her dislike over the years, Rosemary hadn’t felt the need to rock the boat. Besides, the chances of another run in were slight. They, after all, had managed to avoid one another over the last three years; bringing up him at this juncture would be foolish.

The sales through lunch were stronger than she’d expected. And once Evan had come in, Rosemary had retired to the back to wage war on the seemingly never-ending paperwork in the back office. Orders in particular had become her pet project of the week. She’d managed to get a quarter of the way through the next months’ proposed work up for both stores when distraction reared its head.

“Have you seen the pictures?” Jules voice carried from the hallway. “From the gala?”

Rosemary looked at Jules with momentary confusion. “Pictures?” Then sense came flooding back. Charity event. Photographers. Of course there had been pictures. “God, sorry. Still not firing on all cylinders. I take it I’m in some?” She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Academically, she’d known it was a possibility but hadn’t really taken the time to think it through.

Jules cocked an eyebrow. “Not a lot.” She paused to fish something from her pocket. “Though I must say, I am practically green with envy over this one with you and Colin Firth.” She held up her phone and flashed said photograph.

Rosemary grabbed the phone and studied the shot briefly before handing it back. “Huh. Not too shabby.” It was a nice photograph. She’d looked remarkably put together and not at all discomposed; a feat indeed considering who she’d been standing next to. He was Mr. Darcy after all. With a shake of her head she returned her attention to the latest order sheet.

Jules, however, remained in the doorway in silence for several moments. Rosemary could feel her eyes burning into the back of her head. “Yes?”

“Tom was there.” It was a statement, not a question.

Rosemary sighed. “Yes, he was. We bumped into each other before the auction.”

“And you didn’t see fit to mention this because…”

“It wasn’t anything major. We saw each other, made small talk. What else was I supposed to do? Avoiding him or flat out refusing to speak to him would create more questions than it was worth. Besides it’s been three years. It’s water under the bridge.”

Jules looked less than convinced. “You are in a few. With him.”

“Oh?” She hoped her tone did not belie the disconcerting feeling that flooded through her. “He was at my table for a spell. We chatted. I guess it was bound to happen.”

“Rose…”

She sighed and dropped the papers still in her hand onto the desk “Jules, honey, I’m fine. It wasn’t nearly as bad as I had feared it would be. We were both adults and handled ourselves accordingly. No harm, no foul.”

Jules narrowed her eyes but did not utter a word.

Rosemary shook her head, “I know what you’re thinking, but really I’m okay. I moved on, we both have. He’s not a horrible person, he never was. We just don’t work. And that’s okay.”

“I know, Rose. I know. I just…You know what, never mind.” She shook her head and relaxed her shoulders. “I’m going to head back out there and make sure Evan’s not being eaten alive.” She smiled.

Rosemary shook her head, laughing as well. “Don’t bother; a little chaos is good for him. Builds character.”

“I’ll just let him know you said that. I’m sure it’ll be a comfort as he nurses his wounds.”

She laughed in earnest and shifted her attention back to the waiting forms. “He’ll deal.”

___

“Can you move that display about a foot and a half to the left?” With a good natured groan Max, the newest edition to the Stories Untold family, shifted the display, again. Rosemary studied it critically and then smiled. “Perfect.”

The newest Stories location had been officially open for a week and, save for a few minor hiccups, had been running smoothly. Sales looked promising and foot traffic was slow but steady. And while Jules’ reports showed that the main store was holding its own, Rosemary still felt the familiar flutter of unease.

It was silly, she knew, and most days she could pay it rather little mind. This would be her first major change to the business she’d loved and cherished fiercely since she’d taken sole ownership seven years prior. She wanted this to succeed; wanted it desperately.

“You sure? Like completely, 100%, can’t be any surer, sure?” Max raised his sandy eyebrow which pulled a hearty laugh from everyone in the room and a quirked eyebrow from Rosemary.

“Watch your cheek, young man.” The laughter in her eyes belied her stern tone. She shook her head and sighed. “Yes. I’m sure. Now, back to the stock room with you; those boxes aren’t going to stock themselves.” Max grumbled good-naturedly as he lumbered off to complete his assigned task.

Rosemary sighed and turned her attention back to the front counter. “Alright people, let’s get back to work. We’ve got ten minutes before we open.”

A controlled melee erupted around her; Hanna, the store’s assistant manager, flew to the register, and finished loading the till. Alex and Gabe, stocking and general floor help, ran around the main sales floor making sure everything was settled and ready for the start of business. Rosemary smiled at the chaos.

Yeah, she thought, this will definitely be a challenge.

____

“Excuse me, do you know if you’ve got the new Carter novel in?”

Rosemary turned, setting the box she’d been carrying onto the counter. She smiled at the woman standing before her. “Let me check.” A few quick taps on the tablet sitting by the registers later and Rosemary nodded. “Yes we do. It will be just here.” She motioned for the woman to follow her.

Book obtained, the woman thanked Rosemary profusely, quickly paid for her purchase, and hurried from the store, leaving the jangle of the door chime in her wake. Rosemary turned her attention back to the box she’d sat on the counter. With any luck it should be the business cards and other various promotional materials they’d been due a week and a half ago.

Box cutter in hand, Rosemary had seen but not registered the figure that had entered the store and now stood near the counter.

“We seem to have a habit of meeting like this,” a familiar, warm voice chuckled. Startled, Rosemary dropped the box cutter and snapped her gaze up. Tom stood, a small but genuine smile lighting his features. “Hello.”

Rosemary blinked at him for several moments before remembering herself and returning his greeting. “Hi.” She let out a small, nervous laugh and quickly collected herself once more. “You, good sir, seem to have a habit of scaring years off my lifespan.”

Tom held his hands up in apology. “As always, that was never my intent.”

“So, Mr. Hiddleston, what brings you in today?” Professional, she told herself, I just need to keep myself professional and I can keep my head.

It was his turn to chuckle nervously, “You,” he answered with a smile, “Actually.”

Rosemary was taken aback but fought to hide it. “Oh? And you knew I’d be here because?”

Tom laughed in earnest. “The store has always been your baby. There isn’t a chance in hell that you’d not be here for the newest launch.”

Rosemary nodded slowly and rested her hands on the counter. “That still doesn’t really clear anything up.” She watched Tom blink in confusion and stamped down the small part of her heart that fluttered stubbornly in her chest.

She watched Tom rub the back of his neck with his left hand. “I saw the sign for the shop a few weeks back and was intrigued,” he started, eyes rising to hers. “I had been debating on whether it was a good idea for me to come after it opened when I ran into you at the gala.” His face flushed slightly. “After that I knew that I had to at least see…” He paused again and seeming to come to a decision, carried on. “I just…I missed you.”

Rosemary didn’t bother to hide the shock and confusion that flooded over her. “You missed me?” She parroted back, trying to understand. “It’s been three years, Tom. Why now?”

Tom nodded. “I know you asked me to stay away. And I understand why. I did my utmost best to respect that. But, yes, I have missed you. And seeing you again…it solidified that for me.”

A thousand questions ricocheted through her mind. With great effort she settle on, “What do you want, Tom?”

He smiled softly, “To be able to talk with you again. To call you when I’ve had a shit day or a great one or when I just want to hear your voice. There’s this saying, I guess you’d call it, that I heard recently and it struck me.” He paused, watching her face. “It pretty much goes that you have no idea how much you miss someone until something happens, good or ill, and the only person you want to tell is the one who’s not there. And it’s true. I want you in my life Rosemary, in whatever capacity you are comfortable with.” His eyes were clear and cautiously hopeful.

She stared at him in stunned disbelief. It was tempting, so very tempting. “Tom…”

He nodded and offered a small, knowing smile of understanding. “I’m not asking for an answer now. But can you get promise me to think about it?”

Rosemary hesitated, her eyes lowering to the counter. Could she do this? Should she? And if she didn’t would she honestly be okay with it? With a sigh, she nodded. “I can do that.” She paused, pulling a length of receipt tape from the cash register. In a quick, neat hand she wrote her number and handed it to Tom before she allowed herself to think better of it. His brows rose in confusion. “My number,” she clarified. If he could be bold, so could she.

He smiled, tucking the number safely in his pocket. “Is it okay if I call you this week? Maybe we could meet for coffee or lunch?”

Rosemary nodded. “I’d like that.”

___

It took everything Rosemary had to keep herself from jumping each time the phone rang. She felt utterly ridiculous the way her heart would leap into her throat at the sound only to settle in disappointment when the name on the screen wasn’t his. Pathetic, she chided herself. You are completely, ridiculously pathetic.

Tom had promised to call but that had been nearly two weeks prior. A few days she could easily excuse. He was a busy man and time had a funny way of slipping away when you were busy. Maybe a week, given the right circumstances. But two weeks and nothing, not even a text? She was an idiot for even considering letting him back into her life. But that didn’t stop her from wishing he would call. That he would reach out. Something.

Disgusted with both herself and the situation, she tossed her phone onto the coffee table and forced herself to focus on something, anything else. The knock at her door forced her heart heavily into her throat.

“Sweet lord,” she murmured to herself, hand clutches tightly to her chest. With a laugh at her own skittishness, she pushed herself up from the couch and to the front door.

The first thing she registered was the large bottle of wine clutched tightly in a well-manicured hand. “Wha…” she started. It took all of thirty seconds for her brain to register the smiling face behind the bottle. “Jules?”

Jules rolled her eyes and pushed past Rosemary into the flat, shedding her coat as she went. “You’ve forgotten our standing date. I’m crushed.”

Realization dawned. “It’s Thursday!” She shouted, feeling like a fool. “God, where is my head?”

Jules snorted in laughter. “Obviously not attached. So…seeing as you completely forgot I was coming I doubt you’ve got food ready.”

Hissing a curse, Rosemary shook her head. “Chinese?” She offered helpfully.

“I guess that’ll do.” Jules wandered into the kitchen behind Rosemary, grabbing two wine glasses. Armed with both a menu and a corkscrew, Rosemary ushered her friend back into the living room.

“General Tso’s?” She asked, grabbing her phone from the table.

Jules nodded her assent and busied herself opening the wine bottle. Order placed, Rosemary took the offered wine glass and sipped gratefully.

“So…Movie?”

Jules smirked and grabbed the remote from the coffee table, switching on the flat screen television and cueing up Netflix. “Romantic comedy?”

Rosemary groaned and settled further into the couch. “Only if it’s a truly terrible one and we take the piss out of it.”

A grin lit up Jules’ warm face. “One cheesy romantic comedy coming up.”

___

The movie they settled on was truly terrible but the wine and running commentary made it almost bearable. “I cannot believe someone got paid to write this drivel,” Rosemary moaned as she picked through her sweet and sour pork. “I mean seriously, we are in the wrong line of work.”

Jules lifted her glass. “Here, here!”

Both women dissolved into fits of giggles. “You spill wine on my couch, young lady, and you’ll be sorry,” Rosemary admonished, placing her own glass onto the coffee table. Another round of giggles erupted between them.

It took Rosemary several moments to register the ringing she assumed was coming from the television was in fact coming her phone that she’d left lying on the side table. She clumsily grabbed for the phone, hoping whoever was on the other end had patience. She glanced at the phone, it was number she did not recognize. “Hello?”

“Rosie?”

The voice was familiar, Rosemary knew that she knew it but still she could not place it. “Yes…?”

“Rosie, its Tom…Are you drunk?” There was amusement in his tone.

She giggled. “Maybe...” Rosemary squinted, trying to think. Tom? Tom…Oh yes, Tom. I know Tom! “Tom!” she squealed into the phone, earning a glare from Jules. “Wait…” Her voice trailed off. There was something she was forgetting. “You said you’d call two weeks ago! You lied!”

A sigh, “I know, I’m sorry.”

“S’not good enough,” Rosemary protested. “You say you want to be part of my life and then disappear. That’s not acceptable.” From the corner of her eye she could see Jules’ eyebrow rise in increments. She held up her hand and waved it dismissively in her direction. She could not handle two simultaneous conversations at this point.

“I know it’s not, Rosie. And if you can meet me for lunch tomorrow I can try to explain.”

Rosemary creased her forehead in confusion. “Why can’t you explain now?”

Tom sighed and she could hear shuffling on the other end of the line. “I could but something tells me that it would be lost on you at this point.”

“Are you saying you think I can’t keep up?” Now she was indignant.

“No, well yes. Rosie, you are slurring your words something fierce…”

She shook her head, temporarily forgetting that he could not see her. “It’s not that bad. Just tell me Tom. Cause if you don’t I’m just going to assume the worst…” and it wasn’t a completely idle threat.

“Work, Rose. I got called back for an insane amount of reshoots and I could barely keep myself straight let alone other people.”

She snorted a laugh of derision. “And you couldn’t text me something to that effect because?”

“I’m a shit person and got caught up in my own damn head. I’m sorry. I truly am. I should have called or at least texted. It’s just the more time that passed the harder it was to try to justify.” He was nearly tripping over his words now.

In her inebriated state she could just barely keep up. Damn him. “Tom, I think you’re right. I don’t think I’m up for this kind of conversation right now.”

“Okay.” Tom paused and was silent for several moments. “Could we…I mean. Would you be able to meet me tomorrow for lunch or maybe dinner? To talk?”

“Lunch,” Rosemary replied automatically. Dinner was decidedly not a good idea. Far too intimate for whatever is was they currently were.

“Is Italian okay? I know a nice little café that does a fantastic lunch.”

She gave her assent and quickly ended the call. The phone chimed moments later with the text Tom had promised of the location and time. She could feel Jules’s eyes on her but did not dare look over. She instead held up her hand in exasperation. “I know. But we are far too drunk for this kind of conversation…”

“Nope. Not gonna happen, Rose, darling. Drunk is exactly how this kind of conversation needs to happen. So talk,” Jules ordered pouring more wine into each glass.

Rosemary took the proffered glass and drank deeply, knowing she’d regret all of this come morning. “Fine,” she uttered. “Do your worst.”

#Tom Hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston RPF #Tom Hiddleston x oc #Tom Hiddleston x ofc #Tom Hiddleston x original character #Tom Hiddleston x original female character #Tom & Rosie #Love & Great Buildings

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heartofsnark · 6 years ago

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Black Market Wonderland (Chapter One): Down The Rabbit Hole

Notes: This has been a long time coming, I never shut up about my oc and this idea. But, I’m finally posting this damn thing. This is gonna be pretty episodic and not have a lot of overarching plots, I’m gonna be stealing canon stories and adding my own spin to them as well as adding my own stories. It’s a shitshow and I hope you’ll come along for the ride.

Special thanks to @catoinette, @otomemonogatari , @d-om , @enchantedbythebidders , @voltage-fanfictions , and @piplup235 for not only reading through and giving me feedback but also being the incentive I needed to actually write and post this. Without you all, this would still be rotting on my computer.

Summary: Almost a year ago Tsuneko managed to destroy her entire life and she’s been stuck ever since. She works as a maid at the Tres Spades in Tokyo; it’s not her dream job, but it pays the bills and puts a roof over her head. Her days are spent peacefully enough cleaning hotel rooms, that is until she stumbles into Wonderland and discovers the secrets lurking within the hotel. Will this turning point be exactly what she needed or a tragedy in the making?

Word Count: 10196

Warnings: Some blood and violence, people being bought and sold (it’s kbtbb my dudes)

The colors of the sky outside her window are just beginning to shift, soft pinks and purple coming in as the sun starts to set. Tsuneko lets out a sigh and checks her phone again, still no response from Shinobu. While not surprising, disappointment settle in her chest. It’s stupid to be upset, she shouldn’t be so emotional. She scolds herself, setting her phone down a little harder than necessary. Her desk chair creaks as she leans back and lets out another heavy sigh.

Kiyohito is curled up on her bed in a position that doesn’t look comfortable. The dark sable ferret is in a dead sleep with his tongue peeking out, any hope of him being a distraction are dashed. It’s her day off from work and she’s desperate to keep herself preoccupied. Her thoughts wandering is always a danger when she has down time, more dangerous when she’s left to ruminate on the shit show that is her life at the moment.

It’s been almost a year since her life officially went to shit and she started working at the Tres Spades hotel. It’s a glitzy place, the first legal casino in Japan. She’s a maid, spending all of her days cleaning up after people richer and more important than her. And that’s the highlight of her days, besides Kiyo, because otherwise she’s in her apartment just trying to distract herself.

The job itself is fine, given her situation, she’s damn lucky to have it. Good pay, plenty of hours, employee housing, her coworkers are mostly nice, and she even has lots of chances for overtime. But, she can’t say this is what she wanted her life to be. Being a maid isn’t exactly what she dreamed of for herself. Disappointment seems to be the theme of the day and her life.

She’s done her best to be a busy bee throughout the day; her dorm is cleaned, she’s baked, done her laundry, played with Kiyo until he passed out, messed with every entertaining app on her phone, watched any video on Youtube that caught her interest, and messaged Shinobu. Maybe she could try getting in contact with Runa? Not that she thinks it will do her a lot of good, but even getting told to fuck off is more fun than staring out the window.

Tsuneko stands up from her chair, stretching her joints as she meanders into her kitchenette area. The dorms are nice, like one bedroom apartments essentially. Given how much she likes baking and cooking, a bigger kitchen area would do her some good, but beggars can’t be choosers. She grabs one of the cookies she baked and crams it into her mouth as she begins looking through her fridge. The sweet vanilla calms her nerves, if only marginally. But, she knows what will relax her most.

She groans, she’s out of booze. Of course. Her rum supply ran out last week and she downed her last bit of vodka yesterday. Looks like she’s gotta put on real clothes and stock up. A walk through the city might be nice to clear her mind anyway.

Her work ringtone echoes through the room just as she’s tucked Kiyo into his cage. She scrambles over to desk, stumbling over her own feet to do so.

“Tomori speaking,” she answers, holding the phone between her ear and shoulder so she can pick out a change of clothes.

“Yes, this is Kenzaki, I’m sorry to bother you on your day off. But, we’re short staffed for this evening, between the I.V.C and some people calling off sick. Is there anyway you could come in? You’d be given over time pay, of course.”

“I can be there shortly.” She throws on a tee and shorts, sliding on her shoes.

“Please report to Matsuda when you come in, she’ll give you a work schedule.” She rolls her eyes at the mention of Erika, the head maid has always had an issue with her, what that issue is remains a mystery. There’s still a huge pile of cookies on the counter, her coworkers might appreciate a snack, especially with such a busy day. And eating all of the cookies herself is kind of sad, something she’s done before, but still sad.

She says her goodbyes to Kenzaki as she starts packing the treats away into tupperware, stuffing one more in her mouth. Tsuneko picks out a sticky note, jotting down what’s in them in case of any allergies or dietary issues. Content, she grabs them and heads out the door, double checking her dorm is locked before she leaves.

Working during the I.V.C is like a double edged sword. On one hand, she’s extremely busy which she likes. She loves being able to bustle around and always having something to do. The International V.I.P Convention is a huge ordeal for the Tres Spades, a giant party held at seemingly random intervals where the rich and famous gather to stroke each other’s egos. Tsuneko has the lowest seniority of the maids, so she doesn’t have to deal with the V.I.P’s directly. But, it stretches the entire hotel staff thinner and the worse part is dealing with the V.I.P’s in passing. It may seem minor, but those kind of people seem to take even the smallest opportunity to be a pain in her ass. The last time she worked some man in a suit worth more money than she’s ever seen flagged her down to ask a question, then mocked her for her dialect, acting like she was stupid. And that was after some snooty woman grabbed her in the lobby to scream about the toilet paper in her suite. Looking back, that might have been the only time Erika was nice to her.

The evening air is cool on her skin as she leaves the dormitories, the Tres Spades looming just a short walk away. It stands out even in Tokyo among all the other huge buildings. She remembers seeing it when she first visited Tokyo, thinking how over the top it was with its giant impractical spade shaped cut out. Her feelings haven’t really changed, it’s just more relevant to her life now, fortunately or unfortunately depending on the day.

Her nose wrinkles, the acrid stink of smoke hitting her nose as she nears the back entrance. An older schlubby man is lighting a cigarette near the dumpsters. There are stomped out cigarette butts around his feet; has he been out here chain smoking all day? The stench of smoke seems to drift off of him in waves, like the man sweats nicotine. Who even is he? He’s definitely not a worker and guests at the hotel generally don’t come by the back entrance. And, as judgemental a thought as it may be, he doesn’t look like the kind of person who’d stay at the Tres Spades.

He starts to look up from his cigarette and Tsuneko ducks her head down to make a beeline for the door, just avoiding eye contact with the stranger. If he caught her staring, he’s kind enough not to say anything as she darts through the door.

She drops the cookies off in a thankfully empty staff room, she doesn’t wanna deal with any hassles or questions. She’ll just have to pick up her tupperware at the end of her shift, hopefully no one tries to take it, the cute Pokemon designs makes it a favorite of hers. .

The employee locker room is just as empty, so no one will question why the stink of cigarette smoke is now clinging to her clothes. She’s never been so happy to change into her uniform. Just a touch of perfume for extra measure then she ties her hair up in the neatest ponytail she can manage. She makes sure she has everything she needs for the work day on her, before taking a deep breath and venturing into the hotel lobby.

To the surprise of absolutely no one, the lobby is packed tight with people. Tailored suits and slinky gowns as far as the eye can see. The V.I.P’s bustle around and chatter, their words all blending into a cacophony of unintelligible noise. A select few members of the press are allowed in to snap photos and get quotes about the event. The party should be getting ready to move down to the ballroom, so with any luck this should be her only encounter with the V.I.P’s. Erika should be around here somewhere, given her seniority, plus she never misses an opportunity to kiss ass.

Tsuneko searches through the crowd for the familiar head of maroon hair. She carefully moves around people, muttering ‘excuse me’s as she goes, not letting her customer service smile and tone falter. Where the hell is Erika? She always seems to pop up when Tsuneko messes up, it figures, she’s nowhere to be found when she’s actually wanted.

Something warm and solid slams into her side, she’s knocked to the ground with a thud. A man looms over her with a scowl, she can feel the contempt emanating off of him. He’d be attractive, if he didn’t look like such an asshole. He’s tall, especially from her current vantage point, with layered oak brown hair and hazel eyes. Silence falls over the lobby, like the world’s been stopped. Everyone’s eyes focus on them, expressions of abject horror. Hushed whispers start to fill the eerie quiet, something about ‘the king’, but she can’t make out anything more. This guy is important; she’d have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to realize that. Thankfully, she’s only one of the three.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” she apologizes, customer service smile in place as she get back up to her feet. This doesn’t seem to appease him, he glares at her like she’s garbage. Which while not inaccurate, is still rude.

“Get out of my way,” he demands with a sneer and brushes off the front of his suit, like he’s come into contact with something vile. Tsuneko takes a tentative step to the side and the man storms past her up the stairs. What a bitch. This is why she hates rich people.

A few people stare at the man’s retreating back, but once he’s out of sight, it’s like the whole thing never happened. The world starts spinning again and the lobby returns to its former state. She shakes her head, it’s not worth another thought, she doubts she’ll ever see him again.

“Are you okay?” A familiar kind voice asks, it’s Chisato, another maid at the hotel. She’s always been nice to Tsuneko and is among her favorite coworkers.

“I’m fine, that guy was just a dick.” Tsuneko says with a shrug, the crowd is loud enough she can get away with talking shit.

”Uh,” Chisato sucks in a deep breath, brown eyes soft with worry, “do you know who that was?”

“Should I?” Tsuneko doesn’t really pay attention to celebrities or the elite types, it’s all nonsense to her.

“Just what were you thinking making an idiot out of yourself!?” Erika’s harpy screech rises above every noise in the lobby. Her hands are on her hips and her glare is trained on Tsuneko.

“What were you thinking?” The twins, Rina and Kana, chime in from behind Erika with similar expressions, contributing nothing to the conversation.

“It was an accident,” she answers honestly, she was so focused on finding Erika she forgot to keep an eye out for where she was going. These things happen, all she can do is apologize and move on.

“It was your fault, you should pay attention to where you’re going!”

”I apologized, unless you have a time machine, there’s not much else I can do.”

”You have no business even being around V.I.P’s, especially if you’re gonna get in their way!”

”Oh, cause I’m sure your banshee screeches just make them feel oh so special.” Tsuneko and Erika glare at each other, she may be the head maid, but Tsuneko has never been one to bite her tongue.

“Go drop off all the special boxes in the basement storage room for the guests staying for the spa package, everyone else is too busy.” Her sharp gaze drifts over to Chisato at the last part, making it clear she shouldn’t offer any help. The task isn’t particularly difficult, just tedious and will take the rest of the day.

“Of course,” Tsuneko forces a bright smile and makes her voice sugary sweet, “maybe we should offer them some complementary ear plugs, as well.”

She scurries off before Erika can say another word, the head maid can screech into the void for all she cares, she got her work for the evening and that’s all that matters. It’s a couple flights of stairs to make it to the basement, so the elevator is best, whoever decided maids should wear heels is an asshole.

“I can’t take it anymore! It’s over, you cheater!” A woman screams as Tsuneko rounds the corner. A couple is standing outside the elevator, the woman throws a small mask at a man in a tacky red suit and storms off past Tsuneko.

The mask bounces off his face and onto the ground, it’s small and silver with intricate details. Judging by the man’s suit and the woman’s gown, they’re here for the I.V.C, which she doesn’t recall being masquerade theme. The man picks up the mask and tucks it into his jacket with a heavy sigh.

“Now I don’t have a date,” he murmurs then looks up, his gaze meeting Tsuneko’s.

“Excuse me, sir, I needed the elevator.” She points over his shoulder.

“You just saw the whole thing, didn’t you?”

“Ah, uh, yes. Sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to intrude. I’ll just take the stairs actually.” She turns around, content to evade the awkward situation, then a hand wraps around her wrist and tugs her back. He’s pulling her towards the elevator, she instinctively tries to get out of his grip, but he’s stronger than her.

“Aw, c’mon, no reason to run away. I’ll explain everything when we get there.” He continues pulling her away, he doesn’t seem to notice or care about her trying to evade him. A part of her wants to deck him, but that will get her fired in a heartbeat.

‘Sir, leave me alone.” She keep her tone even and stern, hoping something will make it through his thick skull. One more strong pull and he yanks her right into the elevator, making her yelp. She’s met with the sight of broad back, blocking the elevator doors and button panel. He jabs a button, the doors slide close, what the hell is this guy’s problem?

“Whew, I’m lucky I found another date. There’s no way I could go to the party without a beautiful woman on my arm.” He turns to face her, entirely too close, with a smile that would be charming in another situation. He’s trying to take her to the I.V.C, the ballroom is on the basement level, so that’s not that big of a deal. She just needs to get away from him once the elevator stops.

“Sir, I am not your date, I suggest you find someone else to accompany you.” She maintains her cool, taking a step back as the weirdo inches closer. He’s acting like a desperate romantic, though he seems a little old for that kind of thing.

“What are you talking about? I was so lucky to meet a pretty girl like you.” Her back hits the wall of the elevator, he’s closed in on her completely. His hand cups her face, his breath fansn across her skin. Her cheeks feel warm, whether from anger or embarrassment she’s not sure. He’s not unattractive, an older man with shoulder length light maple brown hair. But, regardless of looks, he’s being completely inappropriate.

“Sir, I’m working, I don’t have time for this nonsense.” Her words don’t seem to have any impact, caramel brown eyes busy taking in every detail of her face.

“Yeah, you’re just my type. This is fate.”

”I’d would hope fate wouldn’t be so cruel to me, sir.”

The elevator comes to a stop and the doors open behind him with a ding.

“Let’s go, princess!” His hand is back around her wrist and he pulls her out before she has a chance to fight. She tries to step back and pull, or twist her wrist out of his grip, but she can’t manage. Punching him still might get her fired, but they can’t expect her to just let a guest do whatever he wants. Why the hell is he so strong?!

“Let go of me, now!”

The noise of the ballroom drowns out her demand. She’s never been in the ballroom. She’s definitely never been in the midst of the I.V.C like this. The carpeting is a plush red, the walls have gold etchings, and white marble pillars are throughout the room. Everyone is dressed beautifully, perfectly tailored suits and designer gowns. They talk and sip from champagne flutes as they all bustle around. Spread of gourmet food are laid out, servers intermingle with the crowd, never letting a glass go empty for too long. An aquarium at the back of the room catches her eye, colorful fish swimming through crystal clear water, a dolphin passes through. The hotel owns a dolphin? She would have liked to know that. If the whole ordeal wasn’t a pretentious rich nightmare, she’d be into it. If only for the booze, food, and dolphin.

“Micchy!” A woman yells out and Tsuneko nearly slams into Stranger Danger’s back when he stops.. He lets go of her wrist and goes off towards the woman. All of this hullabaloo just to run off, he seems more like a hormone driven teenager than a grown man.

“Hey, do you have any champagne?” A voice asks just by her ear, their breath tickles and makes Tsuneko jolt. Her face feels hot as she turns to find the source; a man around her age with strawberry blonde hair and amber eyes. She’s clearly wearing a maid uniform, not a server’s.

“I do not.”

“You do work here, right? You’re looking around like Alice at the Mad Hatter’s tea party.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes, he’s cute, but something is off about him.

“I’m going to level with you, sir. I’m not suppose to be here right now, sorry.”

“That’s fine, hope you make it out of Wonderland, Alice.” His fake smile turns into a genuine smirk right as he leaves. Yeah, he’s definitely off. Still, cute though. She decides to shake it off and starts on her way out of the ballroom. It’s gonna take her forever to deliver those packages at this rate.

A sweaty hand grabs her wrist, bringing her to a halt, what the fuck now? The world is truly testing her today. It’s a stocky man in a garish green suit, he leers and looks her up and down, her stomach churns.

“Mhmm, I love girls like you. You wanna come with me to give me some special room service? I’ll make sure to tip you for the extra work."

“Gross.”

“What was that?”

“This is a hotel, not a brothel, sir." She’s able to break away from him much easier and starts towards the door again, he’s not deterred.

“You’re pretty lucky you met me. My net worth is 500 million,” he tells her, reaching out to touch her, she dodges him.

“Not enough for my dignity, sir." Her blood boils, at least Stranger Danger had the decency not to treat her like a prostitute. Does he really think her and the rest of the girls here are so beneath him and desperate for cash?Her hands clench into tight fists, she’s not allowed to punch guests. An unfortunate fact at the moment.

“C'mon, everyone has a price.” His hand presses against her hips, fuck this guy. She spins to face him, she needs to stop this, if she doesn't he's just going to hound every other female employee, until he finds someone he can bully into it. She’s not letting that happen.

“Look here, sir! I don't have the time, energy, or desire to deal with you disrespecting me and the hotel. I assure you, there’s not enough money in the world to convince anyone here to touch your pathetic excuse for a dick. Now, get your disgusting grubby hands off of me!” The color drains from the man’s face, when did the ballroom get so quiet? Just a few whispers, it’s like when she bumped into-

“This party is getting trashy,” a deep and sadly familiar voice rings out over her shoulder, making her jump. The asshole from the lobby was behind her, a group of women cling to and hover around him. They glare at Tsuneko, but asshole is glaring at the pervert. The look he gave her in the lobby seems downright kind in comparison.

“Uh, I'm so sorry Mr. Ichinomiya,” the pervert apologizes and runs off. Ichinomiya, that sounds familiar, but she can't place it. She rattles her brain for a moment, but she can’t seem to find it. The headache she has coming on isn’t helping. His eyes find hers, now that the pervert’s gone, the contempt has waned. It feels more like he’s looking at a fly under a microscope, like he’s trying to dissect and understand her.

“You again.”

“You again,” she mimics without thinking, her patience with the day is gone. His expression grows angrier, same for his groupies. She bites her lip to hold back laughter, normally she’d be more polite, but she just called a guest’s dick pathetic, so she might as well mock Ichinomiya, whoever he is.

“Get out of my way.” This seems to be his favorite phrase.

”Happily.”

“I hate when people don't know there place,” one of the women says as they move past Tsuneko. She forces a smile, but rolls her eyes once they’re gone and starts another attempt to leave this god forsaken party.

Her shoulder knocks into someone, making them both stumble.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he assures her before going on about his business, as small as the exchange is, a friendly normal person feels like a breath of fresh air. Something on the ground catches her eye, a small good luck talisman. The cloth it’s in is a bit worn, black with small white rabbits. He must have dropped it when she bumped into him.

She tucks the charm into her pocket and finds his back in the crowd, she jogs after him. Calling after him does nothing, he either doesn’t hear her or doesn’t realize he’s who she means by ‘Sir’. His long legs take him further away quicker than her stubbier ones and she sees him go out door towards the back of the room. She manages to get through the door a few moments after.

The hall that greets her is absolutely empty, her heart sinks, he’s nowhere to be seen. Doors line the hallway, did he go into one of those rooms? She’d hate it if she wasn’t able to get it back to him. It’s clear he’s had it for a while, it must mean a lot to him. If push comes to shove, she may just have to put it in lost and found, but then there’s no way of knowing if he gets it back. She walks down the hallway, the dead silence is eerie after being surrounded by so much noise.

A few moments pass and she hears soft murmurs, they seem louder in the quiet hallway. There’s a door ajar, maybe that’s where he is, there’s a bounce in her step as she nears it. She peeks into the room; gunmetal glints in the low-light of the room. Suitcases filled with cash and guns are strewn across a table. Men in suits are standing around, speaking in a language she doesn’t understand. This is illegal, this is definitely illegal. Her breath catches in her throat, she’s seriously watching an arms deal right now.

The world goes out from under her feet and she’s spun around, her back slams against the wall. She’s at least a foot off of the ground, large hands pin her in place and sharp blue gray eyes glare at her. Her heart hammers in her chest, like it’s trying to escape her rib cage.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is harsh and demanding. A part of her wants to fight, but if he’s involved with what she just saw…. There’s no guarantee he’s not armed. She’s not keen on being murdered.

“I got lost looking for someone, sorry sir.” She doesn’t let her voice break and maintains eye contact. Showing her fear won’t help anything. He lets go of her and she falls to the ground, not too gracefully.

“You have five seconds to get out of here and forget everything you saw. Otherwise, you’ll be wiped off the face of the earth.”

“Understood.” She walks away, ignoring the impulse to run. Muscle memory leads her through the floor, the storage room shouldn’t be far away.

She steps inside, closing the heavy door behind her before she sits down on the floor. Her breath is shaky and she clutches her head in her hands, nails digging into the skin of her temples. What the hell is she suppose to do now?

She’s been threatened and there’s apparently gun deals going on in the hotel. People are getting hurt, there’s no way they aren’t if guns are involved. She can’t be certain how serious that man was about killing her. But, she doesn’t wanna test it and he didn’t seem like the kind of person to speak lightly.

Reporting it isn’t really an option; she has no evidence and there’s the whole being killed thing. Even if she is believed, if the hotel gets shut down, her and all her coworkers would be left without a job or home. Is the hotel even aware of this? Does Kenzaki or the owner know what’s going on here? Who even owns the hotel again? Some sort of CEO who’s head of a conglomerate group. What was it called again? Ugh, she can’t think straight.

She jolts to her feet, she needs to focus and get her shit together. Freaking out isn’t going to help anything. She needs to deliver those packages and go on with her work day, then she’ll drop the charm off in the lost and found. Work now, panic attacks later.

Tsuneko starts stacking up packages in her arms, her movements frantic and she nearly drops a few.. Her brain is a scrambled mess, she needs a dolly, she should have brought one over before stacking them in her arms. She’ll just carry the packages to the dolley, wherever the damn thing is. She can’t even see over the pile of boxes, she tries to look around them as she moves.

Something slams into her and knocks her back, the packages fall to the ground. A heavy thud rings out through the room, the sound of shattering follows. Her ass hurts and she can already feel the bruises forming. She’s spent the majority of this day on her ass.

“Fucking hell!” There are two men, they’re frenetic as they try to pry the lid off of a crate that’s fallen. She doesn’t recognize them, they’re not in any sort of Tres Spades uniform. Maybe they’re just here to move stuff?

The lid hits the floor with a clatter and she peeks inside, it’s filled with shards of what looks like broken glass. She can tell how high quality whatever the original object was from the quality of the material. It’s pristine and the light it catches reflects back iridescent.

“The statue's been smashed to pieces!” One of the men yells, his face turning red with rage.

“I’m sorry,” she struggles to keep her tone even, “I’ll talk to the manager, we’ll get it figured out.”

This entire day has been a mess, but if the worse thing to come out of it is having her pay docked for a decoration, she’ll be okay. It may be high quality, but she doubts a statue is worth too much. It’s just nice glass.

“This was the showcase piece for the auction! How are you going to pay for it!?”

“Look, I’m sorry,” she says again, but what do they mean by an auction? The men glare at her and creep closer, she takes a step back as chills run up her spine.

“You think an apology is going to cut it? You owe us?”

One of the men makes a grab at her and she throws a punch. Her fist connects with his nose in a spray of blood. The man staggers back and she makes a run for the door. His cohort gets in the way and pushes her back, knocking her flat on her ass.

“You really think you’re gonna get out of here that easy,” he taunts, standing over her.

The crate brushes against her as she scrambles away, she grabs a large shard of glass from it and buries it deep into the man’s thigh. He screams out and a gush of blood spurts out as she twists the shard out of his flesh. She clambers back up on her feet and makes another run for the door.

A weight slams into her back, her face smashes into the ground, her scream muffled. He presses his knee down on her back, his nails dig into the cuts on her hand as he rips the glass out of her grasp. One hand keeps her wrist pinned behind her, the other searches her pockets. She writhes and twists, trying to get out from under him, but it does nothing. He tugs her phone from her pocket and throws it across the room.

“I got an idea of how we can make our money back,” the other man says.

Wheels roll across the floor, stopping in front of her. She can’t wrench her neck up enough to see anything else. The man yanks her up on her feet and her heart sinks. A large golden bird cage glimmers on top of a dolly. Her throat tightens and her stomach churns.

“Do you just have this shit on stand by!?”

“Shut up.” The man in front of her opens the cage door, the other pushes her forward. She jerks back; kicks and stomps at the man’s feet. He digs his fingers into her hand again, pain jolts through her and her scream reverberate through the room. Taking advantage, he shoves her forward into the cage. Her hand sting as she catches herself, her head nearly smacking into the bars. They lock the door behind her, tears sting at the back of her eyes.

“She’s a little damaged, but she should still be worth something.” The men share a laugh at her expense, they can’t be serious. They can’t sell her, that’s ridiculous. She can’t get a deep enough breath, her lungs burn. She can hear the pounding of her heart, feel the thump of it against her ribs.

They roll her out of the room, slowly taking her through the halls of the hotel. It’s mostly empty at first, but slowly more people start to appear, moving random things. From art to what looks like a baby leopard, it’s a mishmash of things being carried through the halls. But, no one seems to care about her. It’s like this is just a normal everyday occurrence. She shakes the bars of the cage, they don’t budge at all, she yells out for help. Nothing. No one bats an eye.

“Hey, where’s the final item?!” A young man yells from beside a pair of double doors, inside it seems to be a backstage area. Her kidnappers start explaining that there’s been a change in item.

She pries a bobby pin out of her hair, it’s mostly lose already, her ponytail coming undone in the entire struggle. Taking advantage of her kidnappers distraction, she snaps the pin into two pieces and starts trying to pick at the lock. Her hand stings with every movement and she can’t clearly see the lock, but she’s desperate. If she can get it undone, she can make a break for it.

“What the hell-” His words are drowned out by Tsuneko’s howls of pain, his blunt nails dig into her open cuts pressing into tender skin and making more blood flow. The two broken pieces fall to the ground, he lets go after what feels like hours and she yanks her hand back, holding it close to her as she presses against the other side of the cage.

Her eyes sting, a few tears stream down her face. The men only laugh at her pain, she focuses on their injuries, the man’s broken nose and the steadily bleeding wound on the others thigh. It’s a small comfort to know at the very least, she gave as good as she got.

She’s rolled through the double door and her suspicions are confirmed, it’s definitely backstage of this auction, she presumes. As pointless as it is, a part of her is still hoping that’s a joke. It seems so unbelievable, like something out of a horror movie or a nightmare. She’s tries to steady her breathing, to calm down even a little bit. But, it’s all in vain. Her heart beat is frantic, she struggles to breath, her throat feels tight, and she struggles to keep more tears from falling.

The backstage is a bustle of activity as she’s taken to just beside the stage, still concealed from the audience, but she can look out and see what’s taking place. It’s a huge crowd of people, they watch the stage with rapt attention, faces concealed by masquerade masks. A man on stage talks and moves dramatically, dressed in what appears to be a mad hatter costume. His face painted a stark white and his eyes an unnaturally electric shade of blue.

A small clang catches her attention, she looks up and one of the men attaches a hanging chain to the top of the cage. Someone starts pulling somewhere and the chain starts to lift the cage off the dolly. Tsuneko yelps, if she’s suspended, her chances of escape become slimmer. It ascends higher and higher, until she knows that even if she could manage to shake the bars lose or bust the cage open, she’d fall and break something or bust her head open. The latter doesn’t seem like a bad option at the moment, at least it might kill her.

Slowly her cage is pulled to the side, taking her to center stage. Bright lights and eyes all trained on her. She’s really being auctioned off, someone is going to buy her.

“I present to you, our showcase item of the evening! A healthy young Japanese woman. Yes, that’s you!” The hatter gestures towards her with a flourish and bile rises in the back of her throat.

“Yeah, I caught that,” she screams back at him, kicking the cage. The bars still don’t budge, the gilded cage is firm and shows no sign of busting open.

“I’ll start the bidding at one million!”

Even if she managed to escape the cage and managed not to hurt herself in the fall, she’s surrounded by the crowd. There’s no way she can avoid being grabbed.

“Keep her as your slave, keep her as a toy! Do whatever you please with her, it’s truly up to you!” The hatter continues, not caring about her distress. She kicks and shakes the bars, at this point more an explosion of anger than a genuine attempt to escape, she screams in frustration. Tears prick at the back of her eyes and she doesn’t care enough to stop them anymore.

In the front row of the audience is a stocky man in a garish green suit, the masquerade mask does nothing to hide the pervert from the I.V.C. He grins and bids on her. She looks behind her and sees a screen just above her cage, a number on it rising more and more. More money than she’s ever seen. Her stomach churns and she kicks the cage again, no budging. The most she can do is make the cage sway back and forth, nothing shows any signs of breaking.

“She is a feisty one, all the more fun to break her,” the auctioneer taunts, all his actions colored with the flamboyance of a true showman.

“If I could reach you, I’d wring your fucking neck,” she screams, her throat raw from the force of it.

“Going once, going twice, sold to seat one hundred for twenty-million!” The hatter says as a bell dings, the number on the screen behind her has stopped. She can’t make out what seats are what numbers past the first couple rows. It’s not the pervert, he’s seat number five. But that doesn’t mean it’s anyone better.

The hatter closes out the auction; the lights die down and the curtains close. Tsuneko sits and pulls her knees to her chest, her cage lowers down. It’s settles back down on the stage with a small sound, it makes her feel just a tiny bit better, slightly less helpless than she was before. Someone is still staring at her, she can feel it, even while she’s curled up against herself. Peeking up, it’s the hatter. His harlequin style hatter costume is slightly unnerving, his unnaturally blue eyes are trained on her, his expressions seemingly curious. There’s something child like to it. Someone yells out and he jolts, like being woken up from a trance and goes scurrying off.

Her owner, her stomach churns at the the word, should be coming to collect her. Maybe, this will be a chance to escape. She’s not in the best state to fight, but maybe, just maybe, she’ll be able to take them down. She kicks again, a dull ache pulsing in her toes. She wipes away at tears, holding back sobs.

Footsteps echo out, growing closer and closer. Two men make their way to her cage, the small silver masks do nothing to hide their identities. At this point she has to wonder if they truly serve a purpose beyond aesthetic. She can tell right away it’s Stranger Danger in his bright red suit and the cute but off guy from the party. If it was just the latter, she’d be able to take him. He doesn’t seem particularly strong, shorter and thinner than Stranger Danger. But, she knows that the taller of the two was able to drag her around like a rag doll.

“This way.” Stranger Danger unlocks the cage door. She gives them wary glares as she stands on shaky legs and steps out of the cage. Tsuneko hides her injured hand in her pocket, not wanting to give them an easy target if they decide to hurt her.

The men stay quiet as they lead her to an elevator, the only one that goes to the penthouse. Sure enough, once they’ve stepped inside Stranger Danger pulls the penthouse elevator key from his pocket. The doors close and the carriage lurches into movement. She knew they were V.I.P’s, but not very many people have access to the penthouse. Sakiko has mentioned some people who stay their. An artist, who’s name escapes her, and the owner of the hotel. Who the hell owns this hotel again? She’s trying to rack her brain for that name again, Ishi, something? Her brain is fuzzy from everything going on. But, if she’s being taken to the penthouse, surely the owner is aware of what’s going on. It would be hard to hide the auctions, especially at that scale, from the person who owns the damn place.

It’s a silent tense elevator ride, Tsuneko racking her brain for an escape strategy. She already knows she can’t fight Stranger Danger, but maybe she could make a run for it when the elevator opens, go for the stairs. But, if the owner is involved, she wouldn’t get far. She doesn’t exactly have anywhere to go other than the employee dorms. Waiting for a better chance might be the best idea.

The elevator dings and stops, doors sliding open. She’s never seen the penthouse suites before. They step into the hallway, red carpeting and doors along the walls. A huge pair of double doors standing out among them. The only employee she knows of that has access here is Kenzaki, even Erika isn’t allowed in the penthouse.

The pair push open the double doors and Tsuneko follows, it’s a lounge. Lavish, with plush chairs and couches. A large set of of red carpeted stairs lead up to another level, a large window covers almost the entire expanse of a wall, showing a view of the Tokyo Bay. There’s an extravagant high tech television mounted on one of the walls. Two men are in the center of the lounge; both of which she recognizes. And there appears to be man passed out on one of the couches, he could be dead, she can’t be sure. The man who threatened to wipe her off the face of the earth and the asshole from the lobby, Ichinomiya, are in the center.

Ichinomiya. He’s the owner of the hotel. It hits her as hard as she hit the floor earlier. She sassed her boss. Prior to this auction nonsense, she’d be panicking, but the fear of upsetting her boss pales in comparison to the terror of being sold.

“We’ve brought her,” the cute but off guy announces, he doesn’t seem to have a care in the world. She’d like to punch him.

Ichinomiya sits on the red couch at the center of the lounge, crossing his legs as he looks her over. Him and the man who pinned her to the wall have intense stares, but she meets their gaze with the same ferocity. She’s not backing down.

“We bought you,” Ichinomiya states.

“I noticed.” Her response seems to amuse him, a smirk plays on his lips. She’s just happy her voice didn’t crack.

“So, we ended up catching you after all,” the tall man who pinned her comments, his dark hair is slicked back and his eyes are sharp. Even without him having her against a wall, he’s kind of intimidating, or perhaps it’s just the situation making him seem that way.

“You know this woman, Soryu?” Ichinomiya asks.

“You could say that.”

“He threatened to kill me.”

“Yeah, sounds like Sor,” Stranger Danger says with a laugh, pulling off his mask and adjusting his fedora. Cute but off guy pulls off his mask as well, both completely nonchalant..

“Look, you can’t actually buy me, this is stupid,” she decides to keep talking, maybe the more she talks the more it will all make sense and she’ll be able to get out of this.

“Anything and everything’s for sale at the auctions. If there’s someone out there to buy it, you can sell it. There are no rules,” Stranger Danger boasts, no one here seems to care about the abject horror she’s been through.

“Yep, you can get stolen art, secret information about politicians, even hire a hitman,” Cute but off guy adds.

“This is actually the first time a person’s ever been auctioned off, though,” Stranger Danger’s eyes seem to soften a bit as he looks over at her, a shred of empathy seeming to make its way through.

“You must have done something pretty bad, huh?” Followed by the apathetic question of cute but off guy.

“I accidentally broke some statue, that was apparently expensive, or whatever.”

“The statue of Venus. If it’s worth anything, it’s here,” Ichinomiya states with confidence.

“You’re reckless as always. This woman isn’t worth anything,” Soryu tells him.

“I agree, let me go home.”

“But, it’ll be fun thinking up ways to use her.” Cute but off guy is smirking, he’s a shit head it seems.

“No, it will not.”

“Who gave you permission to speak? Don’t open your mouth unless I say so,” Ichinomiya demands; she bites her lip and keeps her glare. She wants to strangle him, she wants to actually murder her boss. This fuckwit puts her through hell and doesn’t even wanna let her talk.

“If you got a problem with it, would you rather go back to number five?” Soryu asks with a smirk, at least none of them seem keen on violating her in that way, but she just glares at him. She needs to stay calm, as difficult as that is.

“C’mon now, Boss…Sor. You should be nice to girls,” Stranger Danger talks again, he’s calling Ichinomiya boss, too. He’s really the one she needs to get convince to let her go.

“Listen,” she starts, no one stops her, “there no reason to keep me. My existence does not benefit any of you in any way, shape, or form.”

“You’re just trying to lower your value,” cute but off dude chimes in, he’s getting less cute and more gremliny with every annoying word.

“Besides, a cute girl has plenty of benefits.” Any brownie points Stranger Danger earned have vanished, his comment and wink makes her grimace.

“I sincerely hope you aren’t desperate enough to waste twenty-million on getting your dick wet.” She levels a glare at him.

“Looks like she already has you figured out, Baba,” Gremlin, as he’s now being dubbed, says through a laugh.

“You wound me, princess.” Stranger Danger, Baba apparently, responds with a dramatic sorrowful expression.

“You know about the auctions,” Soryu takes back control of the conversation, “we can’t have you running off and telling someone.”

“No worries, I haven’t suffered recent brain damage.” Though her face feels significantly bruised after being slammed against the floor, Soryu raises an eyebrow at her, “Worst case scenario, you kill me and best case scenario I end up unemployed and homeless. I have no proof, police wouldn’t believe me and you’d kill me for talking. Even if they did, if the owner of the hotel goes to jail then the hotel goes under and I’m out of my job and housing. I’m not stupid enough to bite the hand that feeds me.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Ichinomiya smirks “you didn’t seem too friendly earlier.”

“To be fair, I didn’t know who you were, so,” his glare harshens, but she’s not done talking, “look, I don’t even have a phone to call the police. I’ll sign an NDA, confidentiality agreement or whatever, I’ll give you the legal right to screw me over if I even think about telling people about the auctions. There’s no reason to keep me, I’m not worth twenty-million, I assure you.”

Soryu looks to Ichinomiya, he almost seems to be on board with her idea. Maybe he’s not that awful, if he supports getting her out of here.

“Boring!” Gremlin complains, she could wring his fucking neck, but she keeps her eyes focused on Ichinomiya. He makes the decisions here, that’s painfully clear.

“No,” Ichinomiya says as he gets up from the couch, “I determine your worth.”

“What!?” Her voice breaks more than she’d like it to, indignancy ruining her composure.

“We bought you, you belong to us. End of story. You’ll be staying in Soryu’s suite for the night, he’ll assure you don’t go running off.” He’s still smirking, despite the fact that Soryu looks absolutely pained. Ichinomiya leaves up the twisted staircase, pulling out his phone as he does so.

“Man, Soryu gets to play with Koro first, not fair,” Gremlin pretends to whine, but he’s smirking; who the fuck is Koro?

“Time for introductions,” Baba winks at her, “what’s your name princess?”

“.…Tomori Tsuneko,” she murmurs, she feels completed defeated, there has to be a way out of this mess.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl. I’m Baba Mitsunari. I’m a thief, 35, single and ready to mingle. You can call me Micchan, Micchy, whatever you want.”

“Baba it is.”

“Pfftt, rejected. I’m Kisaki Ota, people call me the angelic artist,” Gremlin introduces himself.

“You already know Boss, so it’s Sor and Mamo’s turn,” Baba says, looking at the far less enthusiastic men.

“Kishi Mamoru,” The apparently not dead guy finally sits up and lights a cigarette.

“He’s a cop or unemployed, who knows?” Baba grins, “And the tall quiet guy is Oh Soryu, leader of the Ice Dragons.” Soryu looks so pained, you’d think he was the one who was just bought.

“Ice Dragons…?”

“Mafia,” Kisaki explains, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“Enough of this,” Oh says curtly, “follow me, since I’m stuck babysitting you.” He strides out of the lounge without giving her another look.

“Sor’s kinda shy. You better go after him before he locks the door on you,” Baba tells her and she scurries off after Oh, who leads her down the halls towards one of the suites. She has to speed walk to keep up with his pace.

He’s stiff and rude, but if she’s being entirely honest, he’s pretty low of her current shit list. At the very least, he seems just as keen on getting her out of here as she is. His biggest concern seems to be keeping the auctions secret; she already told them she wouldn’t blab, but she gets the feeling if she steps out of line he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. And the fact he still seems like one of the lesser evils here despite that, really says something.

She’s follows him into his suite, it’s easily five times the size of her dorm. They step into the living room, more than likely where she’ll be sleeping. The couch looks comfy, she’ll manage for the night. Oh starts pulling off his jacket, then unbuttoning his shirt. She catches a glimpse of bare muscles before she turns around, offering him something resembling privacy. It might seem naive, but she doesn’t think he gonna try anything, he seems pained by her presence let alone trying to touch her. Footsteps ring out, Oh walking past her shirtless. He’s in really good shape.

“Don’t get any weird ideas.” He steps into another room, a moment passes and then running water. Sounds like a shower, couldn’t he have started stripping down in the bathroom? She doesn’t really understand the point of the peepshow, she decides not to ponder on it too long and instead lets out a heavy breath.

She slumps onto the couch, exhaustion settling in to take the place of her anxiety. Running away isn’t an option, despite how tempting it is, the Ichinomiya Group has the power and money to find her anywhere. She’s not sure how far reaching the mafia is and she doesn’t want to find out. Even so, she has no intention of giving up. She’s got to convince Ichinomiya to let her leave. Though, clearly it isn’t happening tonight.

Tsuneko looks at her hand, surveying the damage done by the glass. It’s starting to throb and ache more. The largest mark is a nasty gash across her palm, then smaller cuts around her fingers. It hurts more when she bends or flexes them, but the slash across her palm is more concerning. She doesn’t think it needs stitches, but she isn’t a doctor, so who knows.

Something glints and catches her eye, from under the chair. She leans over to get a closer peek and her blood runs cold, it’s a gun. It’s not shocking, he was the one who threatened her after she saw the gun deal. But, she still can’t help being afraid. The potential of him killing her seems even more viable.

The water stops, doesn’t seem like a long shower, a minute or two tops. She tucks her hand back in her pocket and presses her back closer against the couch as the bathroom door opens. His hair is no longer slicked back, soft around his face, but it doesn’t look wet.

“You didn’t try to run away.” He was just testing her.

“I’m not stupid.” She can’t help the vitriol in her tone.

“That remains to be seen,” that earns him a glare, “As long as you keep behaving, I won’t do anything bad to you.”

“Got it.”

He walks around the couch to stand in front of her, she presses further into the back of the couch, he’s in her space. Oh cages her in, arms on each side of her head and hands on the top of the couch, he leans in until they’re almost nose to nose. She bites her lip and meets his glare, her face feels hot.

“I have no idea what Eisuke’s thinking, but let's make this clear. You better not tell anyone what you saw today. No matter what. Telling anyone else is the same as signing your own death warrant. Yours, your friend’s, and your family’s.”

“Got it.”

“You can use the living room and bathroom, just don’t come near my bedroom,” he tells her as he pulls away, gathering his discarded shirt and jacket.

”Understood. What about work? If I’m not there tomorrow people will get suspicious.” She’s not sure if they actually would, if any of them would care enough to notice, but any excuse to leave in the morning sounds good.

“You work as a maid here, right?”

“Yes.”

“As long as you remember to keep your mouth shut and don’t go running off, it’ll be fine. Understood?”

She nods as Oh leaves into another room, she assumes the bedroom. Tsuneko pulls off her shoes, her feet ache just a bit. He told her she could use the bathroom and a shower sounds nice, but she doesn’t have anything to change into. Plus showering in an unfamiliar place doesn’t sound too pleasant. There’s a shower in the employee locker room, she’ll wait til morning.

She curls up on the couch, carefully finding a position that won’t hurt her hand. A yawn escapes her, she needs to think of ways to get out of this, but she’s too exhausted to think straight. The whole ordeal has drained every last bit of energy she has. She closes her eyes and slowly drifts off to sleep.

#kbtbb #kissed by the baddest bidder #eisuke ichinomiya #Soryu Oh #mamoru kishi #mitsunari baba #ota kisaki #kbtbb eisuke #kbtbb soryu #kbtbb mamoru #kbtbb baba #kbtbb ota #black market wonderland

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winterisakiller · 6 years ago

Text

Love & Great Buildings - Chapter Two

Chapter: 2/19

Character/Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Rosemary Mathews (OFC)

Genre: Romance/Angst

Summary: Three years have passed and a chance encounter brings Tom and Rosie together again. Can time make any difference or are they doomed to repeat their mistakes.

Rating: T (for now)

Author’s Notes/Warnings: This is part nine of Last Minutes and Lost Evenings. Many thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff for listening to me ramble incessantly about this story and being a sounding board when I needed it. You are a lifesaver, even if your stories break my heart.

This story and its preceding one-shots can be also be found on AO3 under the username: winterisakiller (sparkinside)

Tag List: @tinchentitri @noplacelikehome77

Previous Chapter

CHAPTER TWO

“So, how was it?” Jules fired as Rosemary pushed her way into Stories Untold the next morning.

She shot the tall redhead a glare which softened upon seeing the mug of coffee that had been thrust in her direction. She grabbed it and took a grateful sip. Caffeine, she mused. Heaven.

Rosemary threw her free hand up in plaintive surrender. “One question at a time, Jules, please. My blood caffeine level is not up to your rapid fire demands just yet. Take pity on me.”

“Have you seen the pictures?” Jules voice carried from the hallway. “From the gala?”

Jules, however, remained in the doorway in silence for several moments. Rosemary could feel her eyes burning into the back of her head. “Yes?”

“Tom was there.” It was a statement, not a question.

Rosemary sighed. “Yes, he was. We bumped into each other before the auction.”

“And you didn’t see fit to mention this because…”

Jules looked less than convinced. “You are in a few. With him.”

“Oh?” She hoped her tone did not belie the disconcerting feeling that flooded through her. “He was at my table for a spell. We chatted. I guess it was bound to happen.”

“Rose…”

Jules narrowed her eyes but did not utter a word.

Rosemary shook her head, “I know what you’re thinking, but really I’m okay. I moved on, we both have. He’s not a horrible person, he never was. We just don’t work. And that’s okay.”

Rosemary shook her head, laughing as well. “Don’t bother; a little chaos is good for him. Builds character.”

“I’ll just let him know you said that. I’m sure it’ll be a comfort as he nurses his wounds.”

She laughed in earnest and shifted her attention back to the waiting forms. “He’ll deal.”

___

“You sure? Like completely, 100%, can’t be any surer, sure?” Max raised his sandy eyebrow which pulled a hearty laugh from everyone in the room and a quirked eyebrow from Rosemary.

Rosemary sighed and turned her attention back to the front counter. “Alright people, let’s get back to work. We’ve got ten minutes before we open.”

Yeah, she thought, this will definitely be a challenge.

____

“Excuse me, do you know if you’ve got the new Carter novel in?