#i mean i guess ill find out in the next chapter when i get to it ;w;b
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I don't think I can finish the chapter tonight but uh..... here's what I meant about Ransom and his confidence in kissing :0c
As I exited, I turned towards Ransom. âI want to see you again, like this,â I blurted despite my panic moments before. âI want⌠Ransom, are you-â Ransom wasnât acknowledging me, rather he was looking behind me, and to my left and right. I tutted. âAre you even listening to me?âÂ
He suddenly pulled me back in for a final kiss, and he kissed me deeper than he had before. He put his arms around me and parted my lips with his tongue, eliciting yet another whine from me as it probed and ran along the inside of my mouth. Dear gods, my legs were growing weaker as we embraced and my injury had nothing to do with it. I could have melted in his arms and inhaled his scent, his taste, everything. But it was over far too soon. He pulled away and the only thing that connected us was a string of our combined saliva. He reached out and wiped my lip with his thumb.
âSee you tomorrow.â
#does the hand meme BOI#like look i know i said it was too soon last time but its only been 3 weeks in book time how did you gain so much chutzpah???#i mean i guess ill find out in the next chapter when i get to it ;w;b#im pretty close to the end of this one#outofcakes [ooc]
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JJK Mafia Au (JJK x Reader) PART 1
Warnings:
- TW: Dead dove dont read (DDDR) Minors do not interact (MDNI): SA, Physical Assault, DubCon, NonCon, Mindbreak, Public Humiliation, Breeding, Ownership, Gaslighting, Multiple manipulation, RWORD, PTSD, a lot more toxic sh.
Premise:
Reader lives in a city where the two biggest gangs keep things line until the third gang showed up. That had nothing to do with you though, until dumb luck just happened to favor you one day. Basically Youâre picked up and used by every dangerous criminal within the clans due to some alliances they had to create due to some members messing up the previous alliances. ((Almost everyoneâs gonna have a turn đ¤)) ( i have 12 chapters planned out right now meaning after i write those ill still be writing more.)
Ch/gang guide: so basically in like 2026
You - 27
Rika: 25
Roymen: Zenin: Gojo:
- SUKUNA (39), TOJI (47), GOJO (37),
- Yuuji (24), Megumi (24), Utahime (39),
- Choso (30), Maki (25), Shoko (39),
- Kamo (27), Mai (25), Ijichii (35),
- Todo (27), Momo (26), Nanami (36),
- Yuki (34), Nobara (24), Yuta (25),
- Geto (36), Panda (25) Hakari (27),
- Mimiko (22), Miwa (26), Kirara (27),
- Nanako (22) Toge (26), Kokichi (25),
âNo way Iâm sleeping for dinner tonight.â You stuffed your hair in a beanie and threw your hood over your eyes. Your smaller frame makes you easier to be dismissed as teenager, people just thinking youâre just an emo on their occasional stroll through the city, it was the perfect excuse they made up for you. Running into them, âstupid bratâ, or just swiftly taking something passing it off as youre asking for directions. That was when you were just practicing; right now, you had to use those skills again. The bustling city really tones itself down when the third clan moved in.
No one knows where they came from, but theyâre worse than the Zenin Gang. The Gojo Gang was supposed to be there to even them out but with the Ryomen gang, everyone was so scare of them that half the population started to stay inside, thatâs what it seemed.
âLucky.â Some dumbass just entered your alley to take a phone call. Knowing your size youâd be apprehended immediately, but if itâs one person, you could quickly snatch something and youâd be living like a king once again (until the next poor soul comes across your path.) You just didnât find the use in a job, being stuck in this world that would use you just for being born, you wanted to prove it wrong.
You toss your trash and start walking towards this figure, making it seem like you were just passing them. They ignore you and you smile because this is the perfect time to âOof!â
You smack into the man in the alley and you get knocked on your ass. The man stands tall and barely moves. âCall me back in 5 minutes.â
The man hangs up his phone and looks down at you. âAll this space in this alley and you run into me? Really? You donât think itâs obvious what youâre trying to do kid?â
Youâve never had a confrontation like this before. What the hell, how did he stand so still, it was like running into a wall. âHeâs got me figured out, guess iâll just return his wallet while he still thinks iâm a kid.â
You reach into your jacket and he grabs your arm. âAre you trying to retrurn this to me?â He pulls out his wallet, you thought you grabbed that? Did he take it back at the last second? Did you never take it? âOr are you finding a weapon. Do you need it that badly that youâll go up against me?â
âI donât know you.â You answer. You want to run away but he couches down to you, making you face him. âI donât blame you.â He grabs at your hat and hood, taking them off, along with your giant jacket.
âOh? I wouldnât have noticed you were a bitch.â He was being rough, or maybe it was gentle for him, but this was fucked, you had to leave, now. You try to get up but he grabs your shoulder, keeping you down with him.
âWhat do you want? Jut let me go.â Heâs gotta have other plans if he didnât want to be bothered.
He laughs like that was funny. âLet you go? You knocked into /me/. It was your whole idea to get involved.â
You didnât know what do to, he was making shit up now. He tried to lean close but you moved back. I like that. He moves in again and you grit your teeth and try to hit him. He punches you in the stomach so hard you stop breathing for a second. It was awful, god what the fuck was he gonna kill you? Thatâs too far for stealing a wallet.
âRemember what Ive been saying?â
You heave over yourself.
âIâll just train you better, your reaction is quite nice.â
His phone rings as you try to collect yourself.You could barely move, much less drag yourself to sit up against the wall. Every breath of life was agonizing.
âYeah, perfect timing, yeah I was just teaching this bitch a lesson. Tried to steal my wallet just now. Ballsy.â He says while looking down at you.
Holy fucking shit you were in fear. Your legs couldnât move if you tried. You just knew he was dangerous if this was normal for him.
You shrink down yourself down to minimize the pain barely anything came up but still you were heaving.
He comes over and stomps on you while listening in on the phone. His large boot putting pressure between your legs.
Were you enjoying this? The strange man just wonât stop grinding himself in the right spot, the pain subsided and you looked like a breathless messy pervert on the street.
âHey are you paying attention?!â The person on the phone almost yelled out.
âIll call you back.â
He stopped the pressure when you started to squirm and humor yourself into his boot. He lifts you up in with one arm.
He looks at you with cold eyes. âYouâre fucked up.â
âYou-youâ You breathed through hungry breaths.
âWow, okay.â He rolls his eyes and grabs at you. âLets see if you can handle me then.â
âThatâs not what i meant!â You tried to back yourself away from him when he grabs at your face and wipes it off, looking around for something. Thereâs a corner past the other end of the alley, and he drags you there, bending you over the wall.
âIs this all you want?â You spit out.
âYouâre so nonchalant about this.â
âBeing out here this long, itâs bound to happen.â Life on the street, this is the reason why you had to cover up you were a woman. It didnât help that you looked smaller, easier if anything. It wasnât anything new for survival.
âThey told me I was great, couldnât even last 2 minutes.â
âThen you shouldnât be worriedâ He whips it out.
Your stomach dropped. âWhat the fuck wait-â
He spits on his tip only and angles it down, centering where your cervix may be. He thrusts in, tearing your walls apart, you scream out loud and he punches you in the back of the head, almost making you black out for a second.
âShhhh oooh wow you are great,â He grunts as you still find space for him. âBut can you survive me?â
Your head hurt, your legs hurt, you canât do much but go limp and bear it. He was ruining you. His dick make your legs go numb, they just hit you so hard deep inside that you feel the shock in your face and toes with each assault.
All you could do was manage your breathing through this, holy shit this was something else. He grabs your neck with his forearm, choking you while pulling him closer to him, going even deeper, making you cry.
âAw does this hurt?â He whispers in your ear.
âF-Fuck you.â
He chuckled. âYou started squeezing me each time you hear my voice, are you that easy to train?â
You let out another cry and hit the wall with your fist, trying to redirect some of the pain. He stays in you and grinds into you, heâs just trying to make u cum to humiliate you.
He reaches around and kisses at your neck and drops you up and down on him. The rhythm is making you go insane and it feels like he has so many hands with he way he keeps everywhere occupied.
You cum so hard you actually squirt, wait did you? Youâve never done that before so truthfully it was as embarrassing as it was shocking. You couldnât stop shaking from your core.
âJesus, Iâm gonna need new pants.â You cling to the wall, face tingling, you couldnât even try out your legs, it was out of the question. You let yourself start to feel, shaking as a wave of emotions creep toward you as you hoped to be left alone in the alley, but he surprises you. âCâmon weâre going home.â
He grabs at you, picking your tired, half naked body up. You wanted to thrash and be freed, but if you risk kicking at his head, you might as well be begging to eat the curb. Before you know it youâre stuffed into a tinted out car in the barren street.
Avoiding eye contact, you sat still in the middle of the packed car. One of them had the decency to give you their jacket to cover yourself up with, but you couldnât stop the smell, you smelled like and looked like sex. You were just happy it was over, though havenât you heard this before, âNever let them bring you to a second location?â You were about to freak out again until the person next to you grabbed your arms and blindfolded you.
âââââ-
They drag you out the car and have you follow them for what felt like the longest few minutes of your life. You find your senses quickly, the blindfold was taken off and you were somewhat free again. âHere.â Your escorts pushed you into the room.
Youâve been brought to where it looked like these two girls were waiting to clean you up. Without saying much, they get to work.
At it for a good half hour, most of your injuries were treated. They keep you awake in case you have a concussion.
âYou two leave.â Your captor entered the room.
âBut her head-â
âI was the one who gave her the injury, I know how hard I hit her. Now leave before I decide to cut alliances with your father, and take you two along with this pitiful bitch.â
The girls hold their breath and take nothing with them, leaving you two alone. When youâre not in a u Jed away spot in the street together, he actually started to look larger by comparison. Do you really think you couldâve taken him on?
What was there to say? What was he going to do to you? Did that matter anymore? You hold onto your belly, tracing over the bruises he left, not being able to stomach another hit from him in your current condition. The large man walks over to your bed.
Towering over you, admiring his work, âI came back only because you didnât satisfy me. I mean I make you a squirting mess and you mess up my pants? That doesnât sound fair does it?â
âWho are you?â You donât dare to move or the ache will start again. âHow do you have all this power?â
He sounded amused. âYou still havenât figured it out yet? Or did I hit you too hard.â He flicks your forehead.
âSeriously!â
Youâre sure of it, thereâs no way someone like you wouldâve ever met anyone from the top 3. You had no business with them, you stayed out of their business and locations. âMy name is Sukuna.â
As the thoughts crossed your mind, he takes ur blanket off and sees you all cleaned up, of course, still bruised and swollen from just before.
Tearing off the blanket, immediately ripping apart the robes and cloths that covered you, he exposes you and keeps your legs spread. No warning, he just dives right in. Youâre taken aback by the sudden collision. His tongue dances around your sex before he starts lapping you up. His flattened tongue grazing your clit then sucking at it had your whole body reacting.
He picked your legs up to get a better angle. His hot mouth felt like it was melting into you. It wasnât long before he brought you to orgasm again, but just with his mouth. It wasnât enough for him, he needed more.
Stuffing a few fingers into you, he doesnât stop and continues working on your clit with his tongue again. Barely giving you time to recover from the sensitivity, you jolted more as he picked up his pacing, barely able to hold back screams.
Riding out your second orgasm into his hand, he looks down amused. âI needed to relieved some stress today, maybe the gods are finally listening to me. But was it luck? Fate? HmâŚâ
What is he talking about, werenât you the one with semi brain damage?
The high leaves your body, though you could still feel it in you face. Sukuna takes his digits out of you and picks you up by the face. His other hand unsheatheding himself from his robes.
His erection was terrifying. Seeing it again made your body ache and you were screaming, at least you would if you found the strength but it was beat out of you, before, and now.
You couldnt stand for a second you thought his scar and tattooed decorated body was beautiful. That jawline, his dark features softened by his pink hair, and this distinguishing look in his eyes. Though cruel and harsh, scary like him, there was something else there. Not that you had time to look.
His cruelty brings you back. Shoving you full of his cock, rutting his hips in deeper every chance you think heâs done, he digs deeper. As he sits upright, he has gravity do most of the work. Putting his hands on the small of your back, using that to push you down further onto him. You were getting uncomfortable with this cock warming.
He was just digging holes into you now. Almost bored, watching your legs cringe at every grind. Your face contorting with pain and relief from moves only heâll allow. Heâs enjoying himself enough to almost forget that this was just a pit stop.
âMake me cum and Iâll go.â He says.
Through the pain, unable to ignore him, you ask, âWhat?â
âYou heard me. If Iâm late I can just skip my meetings and punish you for the rest of the day.â He threatened.
You pick yourself up with your thighs on top of his, the adjustment made it feel bigger, you were uncomfortable but you knew that it would be tighter from this angle. Youâre trembling as your arms are weak yet they were pushing your body up onto his.
He looks down a bit amused. âDo you need some help?â Without waiting he puts his hands under your arms and pick you up, finally angling it right and dropping you down, his head hitting into your cervix.
âMmm- Ahhh!â Youd cry out, wrapping your arms around his neck to better manage your weight. If you let go heâd break you, you held yourself up as much as you could but Sukuna doesnât really like a clingy partner. He rips one arm off his neck and uses that hold to maneuver you above him.
âHhhh! HhhhahhâŚ.â Your short screams had become gasps and sighs, getting sweeter as he kept a rhythm. He grabs at your neck and face, pushing you to face him and you just kiss him violently back.
Pushing your chest onto his, feeling his blood rush as you can only manage to smother his face with sloppy kisses.
With this, he takes that as the go to and puts you back on your back, bending your knees up and makes your face go numb. Without a warning he slaps you so hard you almost rag doll. He laughs at you again, and pulls out, making a sloshing sound.
Almost embarrassed because of the noises you were making without him, he flips you over and shoves your face into the pillow. He slaps you ass hard, your scream silences as he pushes you further in the bed with his dick. He doesnât stop, this feeling was deeper than you felt before, it was breaking you now.
âWhatâs my name bitch?â Heâs gasping out.
âSUK-â He slaps your ass. âSUH aH-â He grabs stir, not letting you finish as he starts to relentlessly buck into you. âAHHH! SUKUNA!â You cry.
The pain and numbness; pleasure and confusion were all messing with your senses. Your cries were like melody to his ears, so much so he decided to choke you from behind. Your gasps and pathetic grunts desperately trying to get your brain some air, it drove him crazy.
He growls and grinds into you as he lays all his weight on you, like he claimed ownership. Heâs so deep in you you couldnât breathe and now you could feel it. He was twitching inside you, and something hot was spreading from inside. This was insane, with the weight, the asphyxiation, it was so much and oh-
Your body tensed up, toes curled and your fingers clenching onto whatever sheets and skin you could find at the moment. He dug his head and bit into your sweet spot. Sukunaâs arm that grabbed your neck, traveled to your womb, lifting you further into him as you came onto his still twitching cock.
âYou didnât do much this time,â He holds you on top of him still as he skewers through you, âbut I can forgive you. Rest.â Sukuna stands up and lets you slip off of him, back into the bed weak as ever. He puts his robe back on and looks down at you from the bed. You couldnât care, youâre just tired from the most unexpected few hours youâve ever lived through. It wasnât so much crazy as it was weird.
Dusting himself off, fixing the details of his new outfit, he stands up to leave. You watch as he carries himself with such a highly regard, you canât help but rethink his status. He opens the door, to your surprise he speaks to someone.
âI told you I wouldnât need long.â He says to the people outside. Were they there the whole time? What the hell was going on anymore. Was life as you knew it over? If you werenât already, you were SO fucked.
âWhen the girls are done shopping tell them to clean her up, again.â
âââââââââââ
I hope this is good Iâll prob reread it and rewrite it but here take it TAKE IT// Iâll be working on movie night w the boys next đ
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#x reader#tw#jjk#dark jjk#jjk x you#tw dark content#ryomen sukuna#itadori yuuji#megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro#todo Aoi#Choso Kamo#kamo noritoshi#yuta okkotsu#yuta x reader#toge x reader#inumaki toge#nobara kugisaki#maki zenin x reader#maki Zenin#toji fushiguro#gojo smut#gojo x reader#jjk gojo#gojo satoru#geto suguru#taaotjjk#taaottw
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TWO: LIVE IN BOYFRIEND â choi seungcheol x reader
summary: when you have to get used to choi seungcheol as your roommate and fake boyfriend.
notes: thank you guys for all the love you guys gave the first (technically first even if itâs not labeled as the first?) part of what I guess is becoming a series? depending on if I get ideas or not, uploading parts to this series may or may not take long. ill also be accepting ideas for the stories if you guys have any ideas!
btw this chapter focuses more on the contrast of how you and Seungcheol started as people who agreed to fake date vs how you guys will act now. you guys are still fake dating but to people it's very real because you guys act the part.
i'm still accepting requests if you guys have them! it can be for this series or for a one shot, just send an ask.
join my taglist!
previous / next
"We need to discuss some ground rules," You said as you and Seungcheol walked around the mall, finding stores to browse through.
"What ground rules do we need? I live with you, and I pretend to be your boyfriend," he said.
"How did we meet? Who asked who out? Where was our first date? Do we let people know we're living together? How long do we say we're together?" You listed out, counting off with your fingers.
"Don't you have a class with Wonwoo?" Seungcheol suddenly asked.
"Jeon Wonwoo? Yeah, I do. Why do you know that?" you asked.
"We say that Wonwoo introduced us and we were friends for a while. I wanted to ask you out but you beat me to it. Our first date was me teaching you basketball, and it was not pretty." He teased.
"How'd you know I'm bad at basketball?" you questioned.
"I mean, when you nearly died after choking on noodles, I guessed you aren't the most graceful," he joked.
You rolled your eyes and hit him lightly on the shoulder. Spotting a store you wanted to go to, you grabbed Seungcheol's forearm and dragged him with you.
"Anyways, we should let people know we're living together. It tells people we're serious and your ex he's a jackass for breaking up with you the way he did," he said, grabbing a shirt and showing it to you to look at.
Nodding in approval, you grabbed the shirt and continued to look through the racks. "Besides creating a story of our relationship, we make other rules,"
"Like?"
You grabbed a few more items before going in line for the cashier. Counting how much money you had, you realized you had to return a few things. You tried walking out of a line but Seungcheol stopped you and shook his head.
"Like don't fall in love with each other," you said, and he scoffed and rolled his eyes.
"We're not gonna fall in love with each other," Seungcheol said.
Once you guys were the next people in line, the cashier started scanning all of the items. Moving to pay, you stopped once you realized that Seungcheol already had his card out and was on his way to pay.
"You didn't have to do that," you told him.
"Think of it as a present. From one roommate to the other," he said.
"Anyways, what were you saying about not falling in love with each other?"
"Have you seen every movie that involves fake dating? The two main protagonists always fall in love without knowing!"
"Those are movies, this is real life,"
When you exited the store, you turned to face him. "How about we just agree to stay friends?"
"Just friends,"
"I'm home!" You called out, putting your keys in the bowl that Seungcheol put after you lost your keys and had to use his for the 3rd time.
When you entered the living room, you saw that your living room was filled with both yours and Seungcheol's friends sitting at every possible chair. "Hello Cheol and everyone who doesn't live here," you greeted.
"How was your nail appointment?" Seungcheol asked and you smiled and walked towards him to hold up your nails to show him.
He took your hands and observed them, "you chose the color I suggested," he said.
You shrugged, "I didn't have any other color ideas and it looked pretty,"
"Now, tell me, why are there twelve of our friends in our apartment when they don't live here?" you questioned.
"We didn't have any food!" Jeonghan interjected.
As if practiced, the sound of Minghao drinking a cup of tea and Jun eating something crunchy filled the room. Jihoon then opened a bag of candy, which caught the attention of others and they grabbed handfuls from the bag.
"And you finish all of ours?!" You jokingly shouted.
"You guys are supposed to go grocery shopping anyways," Seungkwan pointed out.
"Can you guys get more chips? You guys ran out of the ones I like," Vernon said with a mouthful of the chips as mentioned earlier.
"And soda!" Chan exclaimed.
"You tell me the word and I'll kick all of them out," Seungcheol offered.
Ignoring all of the shouted protests from your friends, you shook your head, "It's fine as long as Mingyu's cooking,"
Everyone in the room turned to Mingyu, who sighed and stood up to go to the kitchen. "Don't make a mess of our kitchen or else!" You called out.
"How about you change into comfortable clothes and I'll make these idiots decide on a movie," Seungcheol said.
"Nothing that's too scary or else Seokmin and Soonyoung will have nightmares," you reminded him.
"I don't think they'll get nightmaresâ" Joshua started saying, but a stern look from you cut him off.
"They'll get nightmares, nevermind," he backtracked.
"You make us sound like kids!" Soonyoung said.
"It's cause you are," Wonwoo commented.
"This is like a daycare," you muttered.
"Go change. I managed to get your favorite snacks away from the guys," Seungcheol told you.
You smiled at him before going to your room to change like you originally planned to.
Maybe this fake dating thing was going better than you thought it was going to.
#seventeen fluff#seungcheol fluff#choi seungcheol fluff#seventeen imagines#seventeen x reader#scoups x reader#scoups fluff#choi seungcheol x reader#seventeen scenarios#svt x reader#scoups fic#seungcheol fic#scoups scenario#scoups imagines#seventeen scoups
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⢠chapter 1 ⢠ùuha dÄria ⢠my queen â˘
Daemon Targaryen x Stark!Reader
Summary: Daemon is about to meet his match...
Warnings (and some ramblings): physical description vaguely (?) described and implied by relation, not gonna spoil the plot but there's gonna be targcest (come on, it's Daemon), other canon stuff (violence, death/murder, sex, misogyny, calling children bastards), Daemon is about 21 (according to canon, you'll see what I mean), reader is younger by at least two years; twisting up canon: Alyssa died within the year of Daemon's birth, Queen Alysanne is still alive and the Daemon-Rhea wedding has not happened yet, the fight is basically the Geralt vs Renfri fight (if you want visuals bc I suck at describing it đ
), bit of insta love, enemies to lovers (sort of), it's mostly from Daemon's POV, not proofread at all
Series masterlist ⢠next chapter
⢠102 AC ⢠Winterfell ⢠The tourney
Daemon was warned to behave before most of the House of the Dragon parted from King's Landing but he was called the Rouge Prince for a reason.
The tourney was held on the second day of their stay and he had not shown himself in public until then, content to spend his first day in the North reading under the heart tree.
Daemon always loved dramatic entrances, always seeking attention that he seemingly only gets when he is misbehaving. So he was ready to wreak havoc during the event that was supposed to be a friendly match between the great houses.
As a prince, he got to choose his first opponent, and who else would it be than a Hightower. He spared a smirk to that cunt of a Hand before he marched ahead to win with brutal precision, sending his opponent's horse and the knight himself to the ground.
The horrified gasps and then the loud cheering from the crowd only made his smirk wider. Daemon looked over the high seats from where the Targaryens, Velaryons and Starks watched the show. He immediately noted three empty seats, two besides Lord Stark - no doubt one of them was his brother's or cousin's whose helmeted figure Daemon had seen in the line of knights - and one by the King.
Since his grandmother, the Queen, was not present due to her illness, the only one who was sending him scolding glares was his brother, Viserys. The old king just sighed at the scene, while Corlys and Rhaenys sat there, amused, like parents watching a naughty child.
The next challenges were won just as easily as the first, although none of them was even remotely close to that savage end the Hightower boy had to suffer.
While the Prince usually didn't bother to watch the others, this time that Stark was drawing attention with his effortless wins. Prompting the people to make guesses and bets if a wolf could win against a dragon. Well, they were about to find out.
The first round shattered his opponent's shield but, to his astonishment, he stayed upright in the saddle. Daemon was smirking as usual but this time a tiny bit of admiration made his eyes glint in a softer light.
He could tell the little wolf would go down in the next round but he didn't expect to be taken with him too. The dragon prince's blood was singing at meeting a worthy opponent who was just as determined to win, no matter the cost.
The boy must have known he had no chance to stay on the horse, so instead of attacking Daemon as would be proper and expected, he somehow hooked his spear under his arm, yanking him back with the force of his own fall.
Both of you heavily landed on the ground, the impact crushing the air from your lungs and making it unable to move for a long moment. The spectating people were holding their breath, waiting to see if you were, well, alive or not.
The cheering was deafening as you got to your feet and proceeded to fight with swords.
Without wasting another second, you marched forward. Stabbing in his direction, aiming for his head and swinging at his neck with the same momentum once your initial blow missed its target.
The prince leaned away from each attack and his sword met yours at the third strike. He let you lead the fight for a few more clashes but he paused to assess you as he blocked a blow that meant to hit his legs.
Daemon straightened and stepped back, pushing your sword away with his and striking down with a high swing of Dark Sister. Your sword met his again, protesting under the finer steel.
To spare your weapon the worst of the hit, you focused on meeting the side of the blade while avoiding the edge and rolling the swords, trying to dislodge the weapon from his grip.
To unsuccessful stabbing attempts later you made a move at his head again. He ducked down, then didn't hesitate to use the opportunity of the few seconds you left yourself open.
You didn't expect a hit by his other hand and certainly not the following kick that sent you to the ground. Unfortunately, this resulted in losing your helmet.
Daemon paused at the sight.
It was no brother or cousin of their host, not even a boy as he suspected from the lighter build of the armour but a girl with the features of a Stark, the infamous wild beauty of the North, Lord Stark's niece by his late sister.
For the second time during this event, a unanimous scandalized gasp was heard from the crowd right before loud the protests of his brother and your uncle reached the two of you as they forbade you to continue the fight.
At that, your still bewildered expression turned into something Daemon was extremely familiar with. Blinding, all-consuming, untamed rage at being denied.
The Targaryen prince grinned wickedly at you but before you could turn your anger on him, he tore off his helmet, throwing it away and subtly nodding at you, giving you the approval to attack him and continue the fight. The answering spark in your eyes before you charged at him made his heart skip a beat.
It was similar to how you started the first time. He let you advance, then half-heartedly attacked back, ending the session with another backhanded slap before he pushed you backwards until your back met the edge of the fighting arena.
"You are holding back." You practically spat the accusation at him through gritted teeth while holding your sword to block his. Although with the way he took hold of your hand, making sure that your blade did not cut into your throat proved that you might as well let go altogether and would still be safe from any harm.
The world around you seized to exist as the prince pressed a little closer. Answering with an infuriatingly smug grin. "It would be unforgivable to hurt a little lady like you."
"You just hit me," you scoffed.
"You'll live."
"If you won't start fighting properly, you will not." The menacingly low threat made chills run down his spine, eliciting a low chuckle out of him that was definitely a mistake.
Then 'the little lady' pulled a knife on him.
Daemon grunted at the pain of being stabbed in his side. He looked at you with disbelief, the blade went through his armour like it wasn't even there. Valyrian steel.
It was enough distraction. You pushed him away, attacking with the dagger and the sword simultaneously and if you were a little less aggravated, you'd be impressed with the way he blocked your attacks with not just his sword but bare hand fight combined before he started to use his sword more like a shield.
Swords crossed, you paused.
Daemon could have swiped your legs, and you could have stabbed him with the dagger again but you were too busy trying to make it a show that you could overpower him and he was just too pissed to let you go easy.
In a blink of an eye, you were kneeling on the ground with your opponent's blade digging into your shoulder. Although he was careful not to cut too deep, he was not above the pettiness of giving you a scar in return for his.
A half groan, half gasp sound was the only indication of your pain and Daemon felt a moment of regret before he was consumed by flames from deep within that seemed to be seeded in the pull he felt towards you from the moment he laid his eyes on you. He found your rage and your inner fire, which was clearly visible in your determination and anger at the present, mesmerisingly beautiful.
He became distracted again. It was enough for you to be able to move and swipe at his leg, cutting him with the dagger before you stood and faced him with a challenging stance.
A few seconds of silent discussion followed, with him letting you know he will give you what you wished for if you continue, warning you that he will not hold back anymore.
You grinned, attacking him, again using both weapons, with some moves applying them like a single extended weapon.
Then he put you in a difficult position. Stopping the dagger by grabbing it, he was forcing you to stay still not by strength but by thrusting you that you would not want to permanently damage him.
If you pulled away now, he would lose at least a few fingers if not his hand altogether. Both of you gritted your teeth, mostly in pain but it showed more like anger, which made it seem like you were practically snarling at the other.
With barely clutching the handles, you pry his hand off enough to only graze him. And it leaves you vulnerable.
You almost lost your weapons when he immediately attempted to disarm you. Then he truly advanced, forcing you to defend yourself and back away. He was relentlessly stabbing and swinging with Dark Sister in your direction.
Then it was over, he took your sword. Holding you at the end of his blade, telling you to yield.
It was only then that you heard the crowd again. Cheering at the incredibly fast and hard-to-follow battle they just witnessed.
Despite the loud audience, Daemon still heard as you sighed with annoyance, keeping eye contact with him as you threw your dagger to the ground, refusing to do more or say the words.
He smiled, this time with pure amusement only. He stepped away, letting you breathe freely and to his further entertainment dropped to the ground to sit and rest or pout like a child. It was hard to guess and that made him enjoy the scene even more.
You were so busy with pealing away the suffocating armour where you could reach and the impending scolding that you knew was coming the moment you tied up your cousin and took his place, that you didn't pay attention when the prince received the flower crown or what he was planning to do with it.
Feeling the crown of winter roses placed on your head, you look up, wide eyes meeting with the Rogue Prince's mischievous gaze as he offers his hand and helps you stand. Without letting go, he bends a little, kissing the back of your hand as he murmurs, "My queen."
Series masterlist ⢠next chapter
#daemon targaryen#daemon targaryen x reader#prince daemon#prince daemon x reader#house of the dragon#daemon targaryen x you#daemon x reader#daemon x you#stark!reader
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Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 15
As usual, canât guarantee 100% accuracy on this. Iâm doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.
Ale ran around the lawn of Crown Castleâs gardens, his fluffy fur similar to freshly-baked sponge cake flowing with his movement.
Kate: The weather is nice and itâs fun running around with Ale.
Ellis: Hehe, it is fun. Kateâs happy face is cute.
Liam: Since Kate and Ale came, weâve had more time for stuff like this.
Ellis: Yeah, youâre right.
(Ever since Iâve started helping out with looking after Ale, Iâve naturally been able to spend more time with everyone outside of missions)
When I squinted at the bright sunlight, I caught a figure through a window.
(Ah, Roger!)
When our eyes met, I waved at him in his room.
(...I hope Iâm not making some kind of face. Am I smile naturally?)
(Ah, but he could hear my heartbeat from there if he wanted toâŚCalm down, calm down)
I acted as if everything was the same as usual, but my mind was full of memories from last night.
~~ Flashback ~~
Kate: If I were to fall in love, then Iâd want us to fall together.
Because of that, I wonât ever confess that I like you until you believe that love exists.
~~ End flashback ~~
(I did pretty much just admit that I liked Roger)
By the time I noticed how the drug named Roger made its way into my body, it was already too late.
HoweverâŚit didnât matter how much I liked Roger if it was unrequited.
(Yeah. I want Roger to like me back)
Kate: âŚLooks like Iâm more selfish than I thought.
Liam: Hehe, youâre talking out loud. Is it about Roger?
Kate: âŚHow did you know?
Liam: If anyone didnât, then theyâre seriously ill. They should be sent to a hospital for being so clueless.
(I guess itâs that obviousâŚ)
I looked away in embarrassment and Liam smiled beautifully like a rose.
Kate: I boasted that Iâd be able to teach him about romantic love, but ended up falling for himâŚIâm so frustrated and embarrassed.
I donât know why I can freely admit my feelings to anyone but Roger himself.
Liam: It canât be helped. The human heartâs the most unpredictable thing in the world. Itâd be so much easier if your heart followed your brain.
Liamâs eyes were downcast as he smiled. It felt like he wanted to abandon everything, like he was touching deathâs fingers.
~~ Flashback ~~
Roger: Would it be good or evil to make curses disappear from this world?
You donât have to answer me now. When it comes to you, let me know.
~~ End flashback ~~
(...The more I learned about the Cursed, the less I was able to answer the question)
Alec and Rogerâs past, Lanceâs death, Ellis who was next handed the Briar Bushes curse, and Liam before me.
(Values change so rapidly that itâs puzzling)
(But I shouldnât stop thinking about it)
Liam: Iâd like to see it. Roger being so smitten with you, I mean.
Iâd like to see it too.
I hope it happens.
Iâll do my best. +4 +4
Kate: Then Iâll do my best!
Liam: Yeah, thatâs the spirit. Unlike me, Rogerâs a rational one. Thatâs why itâd be interesting to see someone like him be madly in love.
Kate: Hehe, was that a wicked look just now?
Liam: Iâm cursed with being led by my own curiosity. So youâll have to excuse my wicked interest.
(I donât know if you can make curses disappear)
(I wonder if thatâs a good thing. HoweverâŚ)
Kate: I promise when Rogerâs smitten with me, Iâll let you know.
Sometimes itâs the small promises that are important to live for.
Liam: Iâm looking forward to it.
As I smiled back at Liam, Ale and Ellis came back from playing.
(Ah, thatâs right)
Kate: Um, do you know a place where I can get some beautiful flowers? I thought you two would be familiar with whatâs popular.
Liam: Of course, but are they a present for someone?
Kate: You heard about how a Cursed One named Lance died the other day, right? I heard he was buried at a public cemetery and wanted to go leave some flowers.
(Lance wonât ever come backâŚso I hope he can rest peacefully)
Ellis: Then how about sharing the flowers from Victorâs garden? He grows flowers as a hobby. I saw him walking around with flowers this morning and Iâm sure heâll share them if you ask.
Kate: Hehe, I wasnât aware. Iâll go ask him then.
Liam: Thatâs fine, but Iâm worried about you going to the cemetery all by yourself. Lately, young people have been getting attacked or going missing.
Ellis: Do you mean the incidents Victor and Will are investigating?
(I do remember the barkeep saying something like that)
Unfortunately these incidents werenât uncommon in Britain given its large population.
There is as much darkness as there are people.
(It could be related to how the girl Lance liked was killed)
Liam: I wish I could go with you but I have rehearsalâŚ
Ellis: Sorry. I have work at Judeâs company.
Liam: Ah, Harrison might be free this afternoon.
Kate: I canât be a bother to everyone! Iâll be fine going alone. Iâll just take Crownâs carriage to the cemetery and come back before it gets dark.
Liam: Oh? Then I guess we donât need to worry too much.
Ale: Arf arf.
Kate: Ah, seems like Ale will be coming with me.
Ellis: Then take care of Kate, Ale.
Ale: Woof.
--
Victor had gladly shared his flowers with me and now Ale and I were being rocked around in a carriage.
When I glanced out the window, the carriage stopped not too far from the cemetery.
(Huh? But the cemeteryâs still a bit of a ways down)
The coachman got off his seat, opened the door, and signed to me.
(âThe road aheadâŚis too narrow for a carriage to take to the cemeteryâŚâ)
I somehow managed to read the sign language that I had just recently learned and tore a page out of my notebook to write a reply.
âThank you. Please wait here, Iâll be back soon.â
I passed the paper to the coachman and alighted the carriage.
--
The sky started turning red as dusk approached.
(The cemeteryâs really close. Iâll be in and out in no time)
We walked down the path leading to the cemetery.
For a while, the only sound was the grass being blown by the wind untilâÂ
Ale: Arf arf arf.
Ale, who was walking ahead of me, suddenly turned and started barking.
Kate: Ale, whatâsâŚ
The bouquet fell from my arms.
I felt a cloth smelling like chemicals press against my nose and lost consciousnessâÂ
--
Elbert: âŚ
Elbert wandered around the castle looking for something, his face paler than ever.
Thenâ
Roger: Yo, El. Have you seen the âlil lady around? I wanted to get her to do some work for me, but havenât seen her for a while.
Having found who he was looking for, Elbert rushed over to Roger.
Elbert: Roger. Listen to me calmly. Itâs possible that Kate was kidnapped.
Roger: Kate? What do you mean?
Ellis: What you just said, is it true�
They turned around and saw Jude and Ellis who had just come back from work.
Jude: The princess got kidnapped? By who?
Elbert: Iâm not sure. Earlier in the garden, a coachman came up to me looking terribly disturbed. He said that he dropped Kate off not far from the cemetery, but no matter how long he waited, she never came back. He went to go look for her, but only found Ale. Here, he gave me this.
He handed Roger a piece of paper with âIâll be back soonâ written in Kateâs handwriting.
Roger: âŚ
Ellis: Kate wanted to go leave flowers on the grave of the Cursed One who passed a few days ago. She said sheâd take a carriage and be back before sundown, so sheâd be fine.
Jude: Thatâs Saint Cemetery. Got a road so narrow that carriages pass through. Somethinâ mustâve the moment she got out.
Elbert: We donât know what happened, but we canât waste any time. What do we do, Roger?
Roger: âŚ
There was nothing reflected in Rogerâs eyes.
Elbert: âŚRoger?
Elbert waved his hand in front of Rogerâs face and the latter blinked in surprise.
Roger: âŚ
Ellis: Roger, are you okay?
Roger: YeahâŚsorry. JustâŚa little shaken.
Elbert and Ellis: âŚ(°ă°)
Roger took a deep breath as if to calm himself, eyes now focused.
Roger: This likely has something to do with the recent incidents. Letâs tell Victor first and then gather the rest of Crown.
--
When news of Kateâs disappearance broke, all of Crown assembled.
Victor: Her Majesty gathers information from the masses. If Kate was kidnapped, then itâs believed to be related to the incidents.
Ellis: âŚSo it is related to the incidents targeting young people. But why?
Jude: Human traffickinâ, kidnappinâ, murder for fun, thereâs all sorts of reasons.
Victor: As youâre aware, Will and I have been looking into the culprit. Unfortunately, we havenât been able to identify them yet. However, based on where the victims have gone missing, weâve been able to identify possible bases.
He spread a map of London out on the table.
Four areas were circled in redâ
Victor: If Kate was kidnapped, she could be in any of these locations.
Roger: âŚ
Victor: We donât have time to waste. Crown will split into four teams and search each location.
Jude: Iâll be collectinâ a huge reward when I find the princess.
--
Jude: Youâre up, ya dumb dog. Lead us to our dumb Fairytale Keeper.
Roger: Ale, Iâm counting on you.
Ale: Woof.
A team of Roger, Jude, and Ale boarded a carriage and were now passing through a dense forest.
â Suddenly, the piercing sound of horses neighing was heard and the carriage screeched to a stop.
Roger: What the�
Nica: Wie geht es dir (How do you do), Crown? Pardon me.
There was a polite knock on the carriage door and one of âVogelâsâ twins boarded the carriage.
Roger: YouâŚ
Nica: I just saw the Queenâs aide looking pale*. I heard Robin has gone missing?
Roger: If you already know, then get out. We donât have time for you.
Nica: Donât want to. Did the good doctor forget that weâre here to deepen our friendship? Iâm telling you Iâll help you. I might be of some use?
Jude: âŚOi, quack. We gotta move.
Roger: If you donât wanna get kicked out then behave, older twin.
Nica: Allerdings (Of course), Iâll behave.
The carriage started moving againâÂ
Only Nica was happily petting Ale in his lap, as if he were on his way to a holiday resort.
-
*Alternatively, red with anger. čĄç¸ăĺ¤ăă was used, which in a literal sense, means âto change facial expression or colorâ. Itâs contextual and in this case, Victor could be either.
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Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 2
Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.
Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count:Â 12.6k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle* Mentions of sick loved ones, mutual pining, personal guilt, relationship turmoil. Summary: After only knowing Marcus for a brief time, you can already feel emotions beginning to build. Will that spell trouble for the relationship you've worked so hard to build with Sam, or will something else altogether begun to sow seeds of doubt? Notes: Once again I'm afraid I have to ask forgiveness in the edit of this chapter. I went away for a few days this week and ever since my chronic illness has been utterly kicking my ass. Hopefully I didn't miss too many errors here.
Game night will probably go down in the year's history as one of the best and most fun times that Marcus has had in a long time. He had laughed until his stomach hurt, his abs aching the next week for at least three days. He's gotten an open invitation back, but he doesn't know if that was a good thing, if he's honest with himself. His attraction to you is something that he's got to get ahold of if he's going to socialize with you more. It seems like everything about you just makes the heavens sing and the sun shine. It's crazy and he hates that, considering you are very happy in a relationship.
Eastern Market is his usual haunt on the weekend, preferring it to a generic grocery store, and heâs lost in thought enough that he doesnât notice a familiar face at the floristâs stand across the way as heâs walking through the stalls. "Some peaches will be good." Marcus decides, looking through some of the fruits that have been trucked in from warmer states. "Peach smoothies." He decides, walking towards the gorgeous plump peaches on display.
If you were any other person in the world, it would be you who bumped into him and not the Secret Service agent contractually obligated to come along on your errands. As it is, when Agent Bailey defends you from being bumped into by the familiar figure of Marcus Pike, youâre the one who apologizes. âOh! Iâm so sorry, excuse uâMarcus?â
âOh, hi!â Marcus shakes his head, reaching out and taking your arm. âI am so sorry. I guess I wasnât paying attention.â He apologizes. âWas focused on getting some peaches and didnât notice anything or anyone, obviously.â He flushes slightly, feeling that pull towards you and hating that he looks like a jerk, or maybe just thoughtless, in front of you. âI didnât hurt you, did I?â
"Not at all." The flowers in your hands and the canvas shopping bags on your arm aren't harmed either, and you find yourself smiling much more brightly than you were even a second ago. "No harm done to me or to Agent Bailey, not to worry. Is it errand day for you, too?"
âTrying to eat healthier.â Marcus admits, slightly upset by the prospect but he figures that just comes with getting older. âFigured the produce here would be better than in a grocery store. Are these for the inn?â He asks, looking at the flowers in your hands and immediately reaches for them. âLet me help.â
"I thought my apartment could use some brightening up." He's seen the organized chaos that you live in and you're not embarrassed by it by any means, but there is a small sting to buying your own flowers just a few days before Valentine's Day. Sam isn't a flowers guy and that's perfectly fine, but you're definitely a flowers girl. When Marcus scoops them up without a second thought and stays by your side, you can feel your cheeks heat up. "I, umâthank you.
âOf course.â He huffs, as if newly made acquaintances should always scoop up flowers from you. âYou chose brilliantly. They are gorgeous. Have you already paid for them?â
"Yes, so don't even try." It's just a playful warning that comes with a waggle of your finger, but you really have a feeling that he would try to pay for them if you hadn't.
He grumbles at that slightly. âWell, okay.â Itâs almost pathetic that he takes note of what kind of flowers you like and he smirks. âSo which flower is your favorite in this?â He asks.
"These," you point out a geometrically fascinating flower with petals that seem to spiral endlessly. "They're called camellias. We called them Winter Roses when I was growing up, but I've always loved them." The intimacy of the question goes straight over your head, just excited to have something pretty to split amongst the small vases in your little space.
âCamellias.â Marcus repeats the flower, filing away the information even though he shouldnât use it. âThey are beautiful.â
"Not everyone has them, so I tend to get my flowers here just to make sure they're in the mix." Barely aware that you're standing in the middle of a bustling market with people trying to move all around you, you have to shake away the warmth settling in you that is definitely not due to any kind of attraction. Nope. Not even a little. Not at all. "You, um..." you gesture to the next stall, where he was originally headed when the collision happened. "Peaches?"
âPeaches? Oh right, peaches.â Marcus laughs at himself and shakes his head. âYeah, sorry, Iâm â I forgot.â He snorts. âI was thinking about fresh peach smoothies.â
"Ooooo, that sounds incredible." All of a sudden it's the best idea you've heard all day, and you grin mischievously. "It's not exactly standard, but the next time you're craving a sweet after having Indian take out? Make a peach smoothie. It's got that same vibe as a mango lassi but it's slightly sweeter, and it's the most refreshing thing ever."
âI was actually thinking about having Indian tonight.â Marcus admits with a grin. âTo reward myself for eating healthier.â
"Best reward in the world." You agree easily. "I told myself I was going to cook tonight and make sure there were leftovers for another day this week, but I am teetering dangerously close to just calling for take-out as well."
"Well..." Marcus almost doesn't offer, because of the fact that you have a boyfriend, but he is truly meaning this as a friendly offer. "If we went to have Indian together, it wouldn't be as bad as ordering it as take out, would it?" He ventures, raising his brows in offer.
You should say no, You should absolutely say no. Not because the invitation is improper in any way â after all, he's a friend. But because of the way your heart bumps and skips at the offer like you hope he means it as more. He doesn't, and that is a good thing. In fact, Marcus and Sam got along fairly well at game night. But you can't help the way your cheeks burn pleasantly. "DuPont Circle?" You ask, confirming that he means he was intending to order from the same place you were. When he nods, you do too. "That sounds really nice."
"This way..." He's immensely happy you are agreeing to come to eat with him. "We can order the samosas and pakoras and not feel any guilt what so ever." He tells you, grinning at you.
"No guilt, but definitely extra time at the gym." His smile is dangerous, but apparently your self-preservation instincts aren't nearly as good as you think they are, because the only alarm bell going off in your head is the one that says Don't Let It Become a Date! which you just brush off. Surely that won't even be a possibility. It can't, because you and Sam have a good thing going. "Although, you're not masochistic enough to have my little brother as your biweekly gym buddy, so your trips are probably far less traumatic than mine," you offer with a laugh.
"Nope." Marcus chuckles. "I just torture myself by running around the Mall during my lunchbreaks instead of spending it in museums or at the food trucks." He snorts. "I just get to smell them just off the Mall."
"Have you lived in DC for three years without doing any of the food trucks out on the Mall?" That might be the most appalling thing you've ever heard in your life, and you nearly drop the peach that you had just picked up to add to your basket.
"Oh no." He laughs at that. "First six months I was here, I fucking lived off food trucks." He admits. "I was undercover and my contact checked in with me through the food trucks."
"Oh, thank God." The both of you laugh as you wipe imaginary sweat of your forehead as though it had made you nervous. "If you had never had Julia's Empanadas, I might have had to drag you down to the Mall right now."
"Then I wouldn't have room for Indian." Marcus groans, rolling his eyes at the thought of how many empanadas he would try to fit in his stomach if you went to Julia's Empanadas. "And I'm really craving Indian."
"I am too." Although, now you're going to be thinking about empanadas for ages. Maybe you'll have to try making some. "How has your week been?" Making small talk is easy with him, as you poke through the fruit bins to find peaches, apples, and pears to snack on this week.
"It's been alright." He shrugs slightly. "Depositions for a few upcoming cases. So I've had to revisit case files and work with the district attorney's office to make sure that there aren't any surprises."
"Paperwork and meetings," you nod in understanding. "I get that. Being my own boss is a hell of a lot more paperwork and meetings than I ever thought it would be."
"Ordering supplies, creating events to drum up interest. Balancing budgets." He nods. "I can imagine that it feels like it's hard to get a free moment for yourself."
The way you nod is tired but proud. Every ounce of hard work that you put into that inn is worthwhile, and you do it with straight shoulders and as much determination as you can possibly summon. "Today is my first day off in...two or three weeks? It's...a lot. But it's so worthwhile. And it means that Syd has her place, too. I wouldn't trade it for anything."
"So how did you come to have the inn?" Marcus has been curious about that. "Was it always your dream? Or something you fell into?'
"I really, really liked throwing parties when I was younger." That's the easy way to start, as you both move to the line to pay for your bundles of fruit at this particular stall. "That grew up into loving to have guests over all the time. And then dreaming about running a hotel. So I took my sociology and history double major and got a job a hotel in Philly after college, putting myself through a hospitality degree while I started learning the ropes. It was a lot of years of working my way up, but eventually I got hired as the manager for the Inn at Jones Point under the old owners. They were struggling to keep up with new technology and losing clients because of it, and then..." Your eyes flick up to Marcus, almost apologizing for telling him the whole story. "We found out the reason Anita was having so much trouble learning the new technology was early-onset dementia alongside a sizeable brain tumor. I bought the inn from them when they made the decision that a comfortable end to her life was the most important thing they could do. Michael â Anita's husband â he comes around once a week for dinner and to check up on the place now that she's gone. He likes to keep an eye on it for her."
âThatâsâŚ.â Marcus softens so much at the background story. âBeautiful. You are maintaining their legacy while adapting it to the new realities of time. Weathering time.â
"That farmhouse has been standing since the 1700s. We're just part of its legacy, not the other way around." The pair of you step up to be next in line, with Agent Bailey standing mere feet away managing to look imposing and nonchalant all at once. "The best part is that it could give Sydney her restaurant, and Juan a way to find himself in all the event planning. We didn't know what a team we'd be until we got going and now it's...it's just amazing."
âThatâs incredible, and the fact that the place runs so smoothly is a testament to your hard work.â Marcus praises. Heâs read some of the reviews and they are all positive, even the ones that had events beyond your control.
âThatâs very kind of you.â Kind is an operative word for Marcus. As are sweet, funny, intelliâ Nope, stop it, youâre getting dreamy again. Even the momentary distraction of having to pay for fruit is a welcome one if it gets your mind off that track.
Ouch. Kind is such a word that lands him in the friend zone. Which is where he has to be with you, but it still hurts. No longer edgy or cool like he was when he was in his old band. âWhat else do you need to get?â He asks, swinging his head around at the options available.
âIâm almost done actually.â It didnât escape you that he flinched slightly when you were trying to be grateful and at least a little complimentary, and suddenly your stomach flips in fear that he might not like spending time with you are much as it seems. Or that youâd done something wrong. âI just wanted to get some fresh bread. ButâŚI donât know how much more you have to do.â
âNothing.â He promises, shooting you a grin. âThe least I can do is carrying things. Since you are saving me from a night of trying to cook.â
âNever learned to cook or just never got good at it?â There is a difference, after all, and it isnât about want. Some people find cooking to be an incredible challenge. He gives you a look when you take your parcel of fruit from the vendor and accepts it on your behalf with thanks. Like a damn gentleman, you think with a pant in your chest.
âNever really had the time or the inclination.â He admits. âItâs hard to be enthusiastic about cooking for one, you know what I mean?â
âBut thatâs when you get to experiment!â Maybe itâs years of being friends with Sydney, whose world revolves around her tastebuds, but cooking has always been an outlet for you. Itâs one of the only things you dislike about your apartment âthe teeny tiny kitchen. âYou can test out new things and weird combinations, and if itâs not great then the only person who knows is you. But if itâs awesome?â You grin up at him like youâre unveiling some kind of ultimate secret. âYou become a rockstar at the next office potluck.â
Marcus chuckles. âIâm a rockstar anyway.â He jokes. âIâm the one who brings in the pizza and Chinese for the late nights in the office.â
âOkay, actually, that does count for a lot.â Walking in the direction of the bakery where you get all of your sweet treats and fresh bread, you readjust your shopping bag on your arm and try to glance around the place to survey your surroundings the way Agent Bailey has been teaching you. A comprehensive knowledge of your surroundings, she calls it. âI canât really cook for my staff much when they have Sydneyâs kitchen nearby, but I leave baked goods in the break room from time to time as a thank you. They work so hard.â
âThereâs nothing better than snagging a muffin or a cookie when youâre rushing around.â Marcus agrees wisely.
âOr a slice of pizza.â It sounds like he works hard to keep his team in good spirits the same way you do, and you have to commend that in someone who works in such a dour field. Even art crimes â being less violent in nature, according to what you looked up the other night out of sheer curiosity â canât possible be all sunshine and roses.
âExactly.â He nods. âSometimes we have all night surveillance or going through the evidence when something is time sensitive. My teams work better when they are well fed, and know how much they are appreciated.â He shrugs slightly, âeveryone could benefit from know that every now and again.â
"Sometimes the weddings we run are just...they're insane. Or last year we had an entire family reunion take over the grounds for four very long days. I can't imagine it's half as stressful as what you deal with but the days can be really long and busy in their own right." For what it's worth, at least, you do love your job. And it's obvious that Marcus feels just as passionately about what he does.
âOof.â He winces. âI bet the staff wanted to break out a bottle of bubbly when they were checked out.â Marcus jokes, chuckling slightly. âYeah a lot of people donât understand that when you love your job, the long hours are worth it.â
"Yeah." A tinge of regret breaks your smile, barely twitching in the corner of your mouth, and you barely nod. He can't possibly know what kind of a nerve he's hit â hell, you barely know yourself and you're the one feeling it. It just...it stings.
âDid I say something wrong?â He asks, immediately concerned when your smile seems almost sad.
"No." You reassure him much too quickly, and flinch in your own right when he looks skeptical. "It's just...not everyone thinks what I do is as worthwhile as, say, something like what you do. Aâand that makes sense. Running an inn and upholding the law areâthey're not the same. I'm not saying they are. It's just...that important to me. That's all."
âWhoever believes that is wrong.â Marcus insists wholeheartedly. âRunning an inn is absolutely crucial. Maybe not to everyone, but to the people who need a little escape, a retreat to relax and revive themselves, your inn is a haven to them.â He is speaking passionately because he believes it. âWhen Iâm out of town on a case, I hope that I can book a little inn. Something more personable than a Holiday Inn, so when I come back, itâs like a little slice of home.â
âI appreciate that. Really. ItâsâI guess itâs a sore spot at the moment and I didnât realize it. Thatâs all.â And you are absolutely not going to allow yourself to indulge in the image of Marcus coming back to the inn for you. Your place is not his â little slice of homeâ. Even if youâre wondering what the would feel like if it was real.
âWell, you can always gripe and complain if you need to.â He promises.
âNo, thatâsâthatâs not it.â Itâs a little embarrassing, if youâre honest, but thatâs only because youâre fighting being attracted to the man beside you. Otherwise you would just be chatting to a friend. âI justâŚdonât get to spend as much time with Sam as he would like. Thatâs all. Because we both have busy jobs.â
Marcus winces. âWith the job he has, it would be hard unless you didnât work.â He murmurs quietly. âBut what counts is that you make the time you do have together special.â
âThatâs what I said. Making the most of our time itâs what is most important.â The topic had come up again in conversation when you and Sam had talked about next steps â through the odd avenue of discussing your commute. His house to the inn isnât a prohibitive drive, but it will warrant either having a lot of work done on your car or getting an upgrade. Right now you have no commute whatsoever, so youâre barely using your car outside of town.
âMy favorite thing to do with my ex-wife was to curl up and watch a movie.â He admits. âOr work on a crossword together.â
âThoseâŚâ You laugh quietly, almost self-consciously, and shrug with the air of someone who is just about to give up. âAre the things I do with my good friend Agent Bailey, here. Though she kicks my ass at the Times Sunday crossword every single week.â
He rolls his eyes at himself. âI know itâs an old personâs activity, but I was normally exhausted from the academy.â
âDonât you dare besmirch the Times Crossword.â A waggles finger and disapproving tsk seems to amuse him and it makes you smile, too. âThatâs a mandatory topic of conversation at my motherâs dinner table.â
âYour mother enjoys the Times Crossword?â He asks, grinning at you. âShe would get along with my parents. They have two subscriptions just so they can each do their own.â
âIâm keeping that in mind for Dadâs birthday this year.â Itâs a brilliant idea. They would love to make a competition of it. It would be the highlight of their week.
âMy parents got it as a wedding present and they enjoyed it so much, they kept it.â He tells you, smiling fondly at the memory of the two of them arguing playfully over their crosswords.
âThatâs incredibly sweet.â There is a crowd at the bakery, as to be expected, so you and Marcus step into line to wait your turn. âI love the idea of being able to share small things with your partner. Theyâre every bit as important as the grand gestures, if not more.â
âSometimes the smaller gestures are the most meaningful.â He admits with a grin. âI love cherry Danishes, and so did my ex. We would find these combo boxes of assorted and she would get the cherry one.â
âGiving up your favorite Danish flavor is not small.â An attempt at lightening the already light and sweet conversation is maybeâŚjust trying to keep your own mind off of things. But that somehow doesnât keep you from admitting the truth before you can stop yourself. âI have yet to meet the man I would give up my lemon poppyseed muffin for.â
âThatâs only because youâve never traded for a raspberry crumble muffin.â Marcus vows, smirking at the way you look stingy, even though he knows for a fact you arenât.
âYouâre on, Pike.â The smirk on his lips spreads to yours as effortlessly as breathing. âBut lemon poppyseed is pretty impossible to unseat.â
âI donât think youâve ever had a raspberry crumble then.â He huffs, looking offended at the idea. âBut I donât think this place has them. I get them from a little bakery near the Bureau. Iâll have to bring you one.â
âIâll get you a lemon poppyseed from the coffeeshop I go to in Old Town.â Even as its coming out of your mouth you know it sounds like flirting, but the fact is that you just feel so naturally comfortable with him. There is nothing flirtatious about muffins, you tell yourself. Nothing at all. âWe can compare notes.â
âThat sounds like a plan to me.â Marcus is extremely happy that you would like to make plans with him, any plans. Even if itâs just a friendly wager. âIâll get the raspberry crumble. I say we each get two. And if you like the other one so much, you have to give up both.â
âDeal.â You put your hand out to him, willing to make a friendly bet on almost anything. Thatâs gotten you and your brother in trouble before, but this is harmless.
Marcus grins as he takes your hand, imagining that lightning bolts are shooting up his hand. Winking, he laughs, âjust donât be disappointed when you break that little rule of yours for me.â He boasts.
âWeâll see.â The tone of the thing really tries for teasing, but you end up so taken aback by the electricity in shaking his hand that you fluster â which is only compounded when you end up next in line and completely forget the word for âsourdoughâ in the process.
âI, uh, I want-â you seem completely out of it, and the bored looking boy behind the counter seems to be getting annoyed with you. âCan we have just a second?â Marcus asks, pulling you back and allowing another couple to go ahead of the two of you. âIâve completely forgotten what I wanted.â He takes the blame, not wanting to embarrass you.
âBread?â You manage to supply, feeling like a world class idiot for clamming up on something so routine. If being around him is going to be this big of a problem, you need to get yourself in order.
âYeah, bread.â He nods, wrinkling his nose slightly. âWhatâs that type that I like?â
At this point he could mean him or he could mean you, or he could even just be speaking in theoreticals, but you have you head in straight enough again to blow out a breath and remember yourself. âSourdough. I forgot the damn word for sourdough.â
âThats it.â He snaps his fingers and looks back at the boy. âCould we get some sourdough bread?â
âSure.â The kid looks at the both of you like youâve gone insane but turns around to bag a loaf of freshly baked bread without a second thought for his strange customers.
Marcus pays for the bread, even with you huffing beside him and guides you towards the clearing. âThat wasnât that bad.â
âOnly because you saved me from sputtering like an idiot.â Itâs beside the point that he is also the reason you were sputtering in the first place. That doesnât matter. Itâs the fact that you couldnât keep it together that bothers you. âThanks for that.â
âNot at all.â He waves off your thanks. âEveryone has those moments.â He promises, smiling at you.
There is such a moment of relief when you exhale again that you have to make light of it or else youâre in danger of feeling far more grateful than is probably necessary, and that makes your chest ache in a dull and insistent kind of way. âThatâs either very sweet of you or a complete placation, but either way I appreciate it.â
âNo placation, I promise.â He crosses his finger over his heart and smiles at you. âAnywhere else?â
âThat was the last thing for me.â Even though you have plans to have dinner with him that night you still canât help feeling a little disappointed that the impromptu shopping trip has come to an end. âUnless you needed something else?â
âWellâŚâ Marcus looks around, not wanting to let you leave just yet. âMaybe I could find a plant to kill?â He asks. âSomething to brighten up my place?â
"Bit of a black thumb?" The excuse to not say goodbye yet is welcome, and you end up smiling more broadly than you mean to. "Let's see what we can do about that."
âMore that I forget to set up someone to water my plants when I go out of town and they die miserable, thirsty deaths while Iâm away.â He flashes you a guilty grin. âIâm a murderer.â
âVery rude of you to do to your plants.â The wholesome, straight-faced nod that you cry for cracks on a giggle, though, and you nod in the direction of an entirely different florist stand than the one you were at before. âWhat you need is a succulent.â
âThat sounds a little dirty.â Marcus admits, not even realizes how flirtatious that sounds.
It does. And you didnât mean for it to. You were just talking about the type of plant he could get. But then thereâs that grin on his face and itâs so fucking puckish and * handsome* that you practically groan about how unfair the whole damn thing is. âWhoops?â You offer, obviously not apologetic in the least.
He snorts and winks at you again. âI donât mind. Sometimes being a little dirty is a good thing.â Itâs borderline inappropriate, so Marcus doesnât say anything else.
âSometimes itâs the fun of an otherwise boring day.â But since youâre genuinely afraid you might say too much if you go ahead with this line of thought, and since Agent Bailey is steadily avoiding your eyes like an older sister trying not to bear witness to your trouble making, you clear your throat and change the subject. âI think I snake plant would work for you. Theyâre really easy to care for and great for beginners or busy people.â
Marcus takes your lead and nods seriously. âIâll take some advice. Any advice.â He shrugs slightly. âI wish I had the time for pets, but I donât and itâs wrong to do that to them.â
âIf I could have a dog, I would have a little corgi or a Yorkie in a heartbeat.â It comes with an almost wistful sigh, but you feel the same way he does. It would be cruel to the animal youâre supposed to be taking care of. âBut since I have no concept of work-life balance? I have plants.â
âIâll start with plants.â Marcus huffs. âIf I can keep one alive? Maybe Iâll move on to cats? They are low maintenance.â
âCats are fantastic. Sydney and Anna Leigh always had a couple when we were growing up and they canât be the sweetest animals in the world.â There is a florist that specializes in succulents and potted plants further into the market and you head that way, chatting as you go. âI just always said I would want my kids to grow up with a puppy.â
âPuppy, a swing set in the yard and dinner together.â Marcus adds wistfully, having his own version of that same dream. âEvery kid needs a puppy pal.â
âThatâs exactly what I said.â And the knot in your stomach tells you that that isnât a coincidence â that the future youâve dreamt about probably lines up with the one he wants in so many different ways.
âWe had my dog for nearly twenty years.â Marcus tells you. âHe was my best friend and the best soul Iâve ever met.â
âI got Alex instead of a dog,â you giggle, silliness tinging the edge of his sweet nostalgia. âMy little brother.â
âIsnât a younger brother the same thing?â He asks with a grin.
âVery much so. And Alex is as much Golden Retriever as he is human.â If he were here, heâd give you so much grief for that comparison, but you stand by it. âWhat kind of dog did you have?â
Marcus chuckles. âA golden retriever.â He tells you without skipping a beat. âIâve got a picture of him, wanna see?â
âAbsolutely!â They say youâre either a kid person or a dog person, but youâre definitely both. Anything cute and squishy is right up your alley.
Digging out his wallet, it might be a little old fashioned to carry a physical photo of the favorite family pet, but he likes looking at it sometimes. Heâs holding his dog, Hansel, in the picture. The white around the dogâs snout indicative of the older age of the golden retriever. âHere he is. Hansel.â
âWhat an angel!â If you could jump right through the photo and squeeze his beautiful face you would â the only problem is that you donât know if you mean young Marcus or the dog.
âWasnât he?â Marcus hums happily. âHe slept in my room growing up. Hated me leaving for college, although I hated being apart from him too.â
"How could you possibly leave that face? Look at him!" Yeah, it's definitely the dog that you're talking about. At least right now.
âYeah.â He smiles down at the photo, unable to resist brushing his thumb over the canine face with happy memories flooding through him. âHe was the best.â
"So would you want another Golden Retriever?" Looking between him and the photo, you think you might be able to guess the answer yourself. "Or will no other Golden ever live up to him?"
âProbably not.â Marcus shrugs. âHe was from a litter of puppies at the shelter. It was just a coincidence that he was a pure Golden.â He frowns slightly. âI would want to adopt. Itâs the best way to give a loving home to an animal.â
"Adopting is the only way." On that, you can firmly agree. But you point to the florist stand up ahead and touch his arm gently in an unconscious moment of casual comfort. "First, let's get you a plant to adopt."
âYes, I would prefer adopted over nursery grown.â Marcus jokes, trying to ignore how easy it is to be with you. You can just be a friend. Itâs possible and itâs possible heâs lying to himself.
"Wild, orphaned plants wandering the lonely roads with all their belongings tied up in a little bandana on a stick," you tease, conjuring the image of a cartoon orphan as best you can. To the girl behind the counter, you turn your full attention and the best conspiratorial smile you can conjure. "We're looking for something he'll have trouble killing," you confide with a chuckle. "Something like a snake plant, maybe? Or if you have a better recommendation we're all ears."
âItâs best to start them out with a plant before having pets or kids, isnât it?â She asks with a grin, eyeing Marcus in amusement. âBut he seems like the trustworthy type to me.â
"A fine, upstanding citizen if ever I saw one." The smirk you offer her is playful, and you glance up at Marcus beside you. "Plus, I'll be keeping an eye on the situation. For the good of the adoptee, of course."
âOf course.â She nods seriously, even though there is a definitely shaking to her voice, like sheâs holding back laughter. âLet me show you the best options for a recovering black thumb.â
It's several minutes of back and forth with the florist who parries your playful banter well, and you end up leaving her stand with not just a lovely potted snake plant for Marcus, but an identical one for your apartment as well. "I had to!" You coo, when Marcus laughs at the little plant that you're cradling like a newborn. "It's so precious! And they're twins! I couldn't just leave it abandoned."
âWell, we have to name them.â Marcus decides. âTwin names.â He grins at you, âwhat do you think?â
"Luke and Leia," you joke right away, because that will always be the first pair of twins you think of in any situation. "Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum? Oh, do the creepy girls from The Shining have names?"
Considering The Shining was his first foray into horror when he was younger, it was also one of his favorites. "No, they were just called Grady Daughters one and two." He tells you. "But..." He whips out his phone. "They are Lisa and Louise Burns, in real life."
âSo are the plants Grady and Burns, or Lisa and Louise?â Either way theyâre exceedingly silly choices, and youâre going for it.
âEither one works for me.â Marcus laughs. âIt depends on if the plants are male or female.â He jokes.
âI think we probably get to pick,â you joke right back, making a show of rolling your eyes at him even though youâre laughing.
âHmmmmm.â He pretends to take a closer look at his plant. âIâm going to surprise you.â He decides. âMy plant is female.â
âOh, thatâs no surprise to me.â The smirk you shoot back at him is probably the lightest and most carefree you r felt in ages, and just for the moment youâre not going to second guess it. Youâre just going to revel in the moment. âAll my plants are female.â
He snickers with you and then tilts his head. âLisa or Louise for you?â He asks, before he answers. âI bet you want the name Louise. Youâll pretend itâs for Thelma and Louise.â
âIâhowââ Staring at him in utter confusion does not help matters one bit, but you still donât have any clue as to how he could possibly have guessed that about you after only having met you two whole times. âSo?â You ask after a second, realizing youâre laughing with the absurdity.
You have the most beautiful laughs Marcus has ever heard, and he loves that he caused it. Thereâs a flash of guilt that comes with the thought and he decides to reel it back into the scope of reality. You are becoming a friend, nothing more. âWho wouldnât?â He asks, still chuckling. âThey were the greatest female duo in modern cinema. In my opinion.â
âThey line up against Idgie and Ruth from Fried Green Tomatoes.â Youâll stand by that pairing until the day you die, but the way warmth is spreading through your chest and your fingers ache dully from wanting to reach out for him is a special, damning sort of agony. âAnd I will die on that hill.â
âI had completely forgotten about Idgie and Ruth.â He admits, hanging his head in shame. âForgive me.â
âJust this once.â There is still a teasing grin on your face when your phone goes off in your pocket. Samâs name splashed across your caller ID and guilt crawls through your veins immediately. âIâm sorry,â you apologize, glancing up at Marcus. âJust give me one second.â
Marcus catches a glimpse of the name and itâs like heâs doused with cold water. âOf course.â He murmurs politely, turning towards a little book stand to give you some privacy, beating himself up for flirting with another manâs significant other.
âHey honey.â The second you pick up the phone with a plant in your other arm and your groceries weighing on your shoulder, that is the second you feel most self-conscious.
âHey,â Samâs voice comes over the line and he has a straightforward attitude, jumping into the reason for his call. âIâve had a dinner invite tonight, some potential donors.â He tells you. âCan you make it?â
âIââ Itâs not like itâs an unusual request. If he has a work event tonight then the best possible person he can have at his side is you. The idea of having dinner with Marcus had been so uplifting, and now cancelling on him makes you feel awful. But this is your boyfriend. âYeah. Yeah, I can make it. Where and when? Is there a dress code?â
Sam rattles off the address and dress code. âThanks honey, I knew I could count on you.â He tells you before he murmurs to someone else. âHey, Iâve got to go, I love you.â The line clicks off immediately.
âI love you too.â Itâs said to the silence, and you look down at your phone for a moment before pocketing it again. Marcus has stepped away to give you privacy, and you shift your weight from one foot to the other before walking back over to him. âIâm really sorry,â you murmur, actually looking as apologetic as you feel. âCan we postpone dinner tonight?â
âOhâŚ.yeah, of course.â He hates the way the feels rejected, but you have priorities, ones that arenât him. âThatâs no problem at all.â He nods quickly and looks around. âWell, we should probably get your things to your car, right?â
âIâIâm really sorry.â Repeating it just makes you feel worse. But both of you feel worse, unbeknownst to you, and you walk in the direction of your car with Agent Bailey her usual two steps behind. âSomething came up.â
âNot a problem at all.â Marcus promises you, plastering on a smile as you turn to him at your car. âI understand. Believe me, Iâve had plenty of things come up.â
"It was really nice to run into you today." There is no word of a lie or even exaggeration in that, and you take your flowers from Marcus's arms carefully, loading it into the backseat with your other bags and Louise the snake plant.
âYeah, it was nice seeing you. Marcus holds up his plant. âThanks for the help.â He hums. âHopefully I wonât kill Thelma.â
"If you do, try to make it as spectacular as possible." Offering him a half smile, you realize that you just wish you could give him a big hug, but that would be totally out of line. So instead all you can think to do is shift your weight awkwardly again before opening your car door. "I'll see you around, Marcus."
âSee ya.â He nods and turns around to walk to his car. He doesnât turn around, knowing that it would look weird if he did.
Once youâre in the car with Agent Bailey and focused on getting back home to put everything away and make a cup of coffee before you have to start getting ready for the night, you sigh softly and sit back in your seat. You can feel the curiosity of the Secret Service agent beside you and you wonder if you look as guilty as you. âThat was a nice surprise.â
âYes.â Agent Bailey hums. âSpecial Agent Pike was quite a surprise.â
âHeâs nice,â you defend, very aware that youâre defending yourself and not him.
âHeâs very nice.â She agrees. âAnd exactly who he says he is.â Of course a background check had been done on the agent, which she was glad of now that he had popped back up on radar. Not quite sure what to make of the interaction at the market, itâs also not her place to judge it.
"Well, that's a comfort." The drive back to Alexandria won't take long, but you twist your hands around the steering wheel a few times before pulling out into traffic. "Unfortunately, tonight will be the opposite," you tell her with a dramatic sigh that cushions the blow of having to attend an impromptu event. "Sam asked me to come to a dinner party tonight. Last minute invitation, I guess somebody had a seat they needed filled and asked him."
âI see.â Now she has to find out where you are going to be, who is on the guest least and it means overtime tonight. She doesnât sigh, but she wants to, much preferring to go to small Indian restaurant over some political function. âIâm sure it will be a lovely evening.â
"I know you have to vet everything." The process seems exhausting, but you would never question the agent's ability to get her job done. "It's a private party at Arthur Connesby's house. The aerospace tech guy? Apparently it's a party for his wife, but everybody invited are Sam's constituents. I have a feeling they're going to spend the night trying to pitch their own interests to him, but if nothing else they might donate to his next campaign if they feel like they got to be friendly with him." It sounds like it will be a fairly boring night of overly rich old men feeling self-important, but Sam asked you to be there and that's why you're going.
âNoted.â The agent is immediately firing off a text to her support team, letting them know about the change of plans tonight.
"I know it's not what we had in mind." The night has gone from staying home and watching a movie and maybe playing cards, to dinner out, to an entire party. It's a lot of jumps in not much time. "And I appreciate you being flexible. Truly."
âItâs my job to protect you no matter what.â She reminds you softly. She enjoys you, has gotten to know you and thinks you are lovely, but you are Hummingbird to her. The First Daughter of the President of the United States and her assignment. She would guard you regardless of what you were doing because itâs her job.
"Right." You nod slightly, eyes cast back out on the road, and try not to slump even a little as you drive. It's not necessary to be everyone's best friend. You know that on a practical level. Right now your energy is better served focusing on the night ahead. "Well, I can still be grateful. So thank you. For...being professional. An very good at your job."
She knows that you are disappointed, but one of the cardinal rules of the secret service is to not be emotionally attached to your assignment. It would be too difficult to make life or death decisions. âProtecting you has been my pleasure.â She promises.
"I appreciate that." For better or for worse, the Secret Service will be a part of your life for the rest of your life. So if you can't be friends, at least you can appreciate each other. For now, though, you ought to focus. A party with your boyfriend's constituents is no place to have your mind wander.
The dinner party is exactly what you imagined it would be. Self important people, boasting about how important they are as they fawn over âmoreâ important people. Or the people who could give them access to the power they wished to have. Sam was in his element, smiling and shaking hands. Listening to ideas with a feigned interest that comes naturally to politicians.
He's charismatic enough to keep their attention but has enough of his own heart left that he does seem to care about issues being brought to him. Unfortunately for these folks, they're talking about a whole lot of things that just one man can't change on their behalf. So all he can really do is listen and express interest in whatever plight it is they have.
You have found yourself in the rather unfortunate position of being inundated by the significant others of these men, and when the party turns to mingling after dinner they somehow manage to whisk you away to the garden where you aren't sure if they're planning on trying to get you to dance with various people, or maybe join their country clubs, You really can't tell which.
âYou must tell me, how is living in the White House?â One asks you, under the impression that you are still living with your mother.
âI understand itâs very comfortable.â Itâs almost a relief that these women seem not to know a thing about you beside who your mother is. Your greatest fear about the whole thing was being hounded through every day of your life â so far that hasnât been the case. But itâs been barely more than a month. Thereâs time. âHowever, I chose not to reside there.â
âOh, what a shame.â She hums, wondering why you wouldnât want to call the most famous house in America home. âI hear that itâs haunted.â
âThat is what they say.â And according to your little sister, itâs absolutely true. But an upscale party of relatively stuffy guests like this doesnât seem like the place to spout tales of your sister taking her homework to the Lincoln bedroom. âAnd itâs certainly very beautiful.â
âI would love to take a tour sometime.â She tells you, hoping that you might offer to set it up for her. An intimate tour would be amazing.
âIâm sure that can be arranged.â You arenât the sort of person who would exchange favors, so the thought that this could mean a donation for Samâs campaign in the near future. Instead, you just know it would be something nice. âI can have something put together for you if you like?â
âThat would be lovely!â She exclaimed, sending you a warm smile. âYou know, you and the congressman make a beautiful couple. Possibly even presidential one day.â Itâs a fishing expedition, feeling you out for your thoughts on a possible run.
"Possibly." And two weeks ago, you might have beamed at that implication. At the idea of Sam moving through his career with such gusto and motivation that he makes it all the way to the White House. But seeing what your father contends with as First Gentleman, the idea of being First Lady sounds overwhelming to you. It's even less likely that you would end up in politics yourself. "Sam takes his work very seriously, and he has high hopes for the future of our country."
âAnd what about you?â She asks. âYou made waves, positive ones in my opinion, during your motherâs campaign about your stance on soulmates.â
"I don't have any political ambitions for myself." Of that, you can absolutely assure her. "While I'm more than happy to support the people around me, I'm very happy with my own career."
âAt least until Congressman Chase makes an honest woman out of you.â She hums. âThen itâs so hard to balance your own career while supporting the ambitions of your husband.â Thereâs a rueful chuckle on her part. âBelieve me, I know.â
"I won't be giving up my career." This is always a topic of conversation amongst significant others, you've found, and a topic that your father has contended with on multiple occasions. As your mother's career grew, he became a stay-at-home-dad and raised three kids. Because it was something he wanted to do, not because it was forced on him. And that has always been the key to you. "I own a business. So it's essentially my first child already."
âOh?â Her brows wing up in surprise. âMy apologies. I must have misunderstood.â Her eyes slide past you. âExcuse me, I must go catch Mrs. Jackson before she leaves.â She cuts off the conversation and hustles away.
It's a bit on and definitely abrupt, but the conversation wasn't very enjoyable to begin with so you smile politely and just let it roll off your back. Whatever she 'misunderstood' doesn't really concern you. Some gossip article must have speculated on the next steps of your relationship with Sam and you try not to let that kind of nonsense get to you.
âHaving fun?â Sam comes up to you, his hand slipping around your waist and he presses a kiss to your cheek. âYou look amazing, especially since it was so last minute.â
"You always like this dress." The first time you wore it was the nominating party after the Democratic National Convention, and then again to a fundraiser in Chicago. That was the night you met Sam, and he had remarked even then that the dress was particularly beautiful. It seemed like the logical choice for tonight based on that alone. "It's a nice party." The food was predictable but tasty, and the drinks are flowing, just like the way you expected the night to go. "Do we think there will be birthday cake?" You ask conspiratorially, looking up at him beside you with a smirk. "Is that something people still do for fancy fiftieth birthdays?"
âCake is universal.â Sam snorts and nods. âI have it on good authority the cake is a chocolate raspberry mascarpone cream cake.â He tells you, knowing it will be an idea you carry back to Sydney.
"I know exactly what Saturday's dessert special is going to be." Somehow your best friend will turn a classic cake into something elegant and thoughtful, and you know the entire restaurant will go nuts for it. They always do, when Sydney gets to show off. "Are you having a good night? I know you had high hopes for networking tonight."
âItâs going well.â He hums happily and beams at you. âHow about you? Working the other side for me?â He teases playfully, aware you donât usually like campaigning.
"Nothing that will get me in trouble with my Mom's staff." Not that he would ever ask you to do anything like that. Sam doesn't go in for most of the entitled bullshit that other politicians do. "One request for a White House tour that I'll put through the appropriate channels. Nothing too odd."
âInteresting.â Sam looks thoughtful. âWho asked for that?â
"Shelly D'Amario." The wife of District Attorney-turned-Superior Court Judge Raymond D'Amario was one of the few people you had recognized from press coverage of events supporting your mother's campaign. Her husband's politics were lined up with most moderate Democrats, and he tended to hand down verdicts with thoughtful conclusions at the end of each case. He's one of those people you wouldn't have minded at all sitting at this dinner party with, but unfortunately the Judge was not able to attend.
âOh.â Sam nods. âI was at another dinner with her and the judge just the other night.â He tells you. âPicking his brain about Constitutional law.â
âShe was very nice.â Though instinct takes over, and you chew on your bottom lip for a second before going on. âDid you guys talkâŚabout me at all? About us, I mean? At your dinner?â
âWell, naturally you came up.â Sam admits with a slight frown, wondering if Shelly had somehow insulted you. âNot everyone is dating the daughter of the current sitting President. But I didnât share any private details about you.â He promises. âOr your family.â
âI know you wouldnât do that.â If he was the sort of person who went around sharing personal details with anyone and everyone, you wouldnât have been able to trust him. Especially not under the condition you met in. Campaigns are cutthroat. âShe justâŚsaid something that kind of confused me, thatâs all.â
âWhat confused you?â He asks, trying to recall the exact details of the dinner with the judge and his wife.
Without wanting to imply that he might have said anything, you still glance around you to make sure that Agent Bailey is the only one close enough by to overhear you. âShe seemed to be under the impression that I would be quitting my job if we ever have a family. And when I said that wasnât the case, she said she must have âmisunderstoodâ something and walked away immediately.â
Understand dawns in his eyes and Sam shifts slightly. âWell, thatâs not something weâve talked about just yet.â He reminds you. âThatâs a conversation we need to have.â
"Right." You couldn't agree more. "Which is why I was confused that she seemed to have heard an opinion about it somewhere before. But it was probably just some gossip article."
He hesitates and then decides to come clean, you donât like liars. âI might have voice my hopes for our future.â He admits. âItâs not so unexpected, is it?â He asks. âIâll be spending a lot of time at different events and I will want you by my side.â
"Sam..." There's disappointment in your voice that you don't bother to hide. Of course he's absolutely entitled to talk about hopes, as he puts it, but you can't believe that he would ever think you would give up the inn. "I own the place, honey. It's not like taking a smaller role in an office or shifting to part time somewhere."
âYes, you own it.â Sam stresses. âBut you can have someone else manage it.â
"But I don't want to have someone else manage it." It's really like you can't believe your ears. Sam has never voiced anything like this before within the dynamic of your relationship and he knows very well how proud you are of your work at the inn and how much it means to you.
By the set of your jaw and the frown on your face, Sam knows that he canât argue the point right now. He shakes his head, smiling at you and taking your hand. âYouâre right. IâI wasnât thinking about how much you love your inn.â He admits softly. âLetâs just forget about it, hm?â
"Oâokay." There he is again. Your understanding, supportive Sam smiling at you and taking the stress out of the situation. The man you started dating almost a year ago. Dependable. "Okay."
âGood.â He pats your hand gently and leans in to kiss you softly. âBut I do still want to talk about moving in together.â
"After our date on Tuesday?" The Valentine's night you had settled on together is dinner at a small, family-owned restaurant in his hometown followed by a fundraiser screening of short films made by local high schoolers looking to update their school's resources with the proceeds. Community-oriented is the theme of the night.
âThat sounds appropriate.â He agrees with a nod. âFor now, letâs just enjoy the rest of the evening.â He looks towards your secret service agent. âWill you be allowed to come to my place tonight?â
"I think that can be arranged." The invitation means you'll be sleeping over at his place twice this week, which is definitely more than you've been able to do lately and maybe that's a good thing. Maybe you just need to refocus yourself. And stop thinking about Marcus, for fuck's sake. You slip your arm around Sam's waist and lean into his side. "I just have to let Bailey know. Her relief agent will have to be told to go to your place instead of mine."
"Of course." Even though it irritates him, he nods. Understanding that you cannot help it right now. After your mother's term, perhaps you will decline protection.
"I know it isn't perfect." He's bristled about lack of privacy before, and though you can't say that you really blame him? There's nothing you can do about it. Secret Service protect for the President's immediate family is mandatory. And hell, you have a Secret Service agent in your apartment every night. At least when you stay with Sam, your agent usually stays in the living room or their car like a stakeout. It's typically left up to them. But still, you do understand the objection. "I'm sorry. It is what it is."
"I know." He sighs softly, hating that the evening has been sidetracked from what he imagined. "I understand. I just don't like them be so close when we are alone." He admits.
"I know." The last five minutes have become increasingly uncomfortable, but you still stick close to Sam and continue smiling, aware that eyes at the party might be on you just like they are anytime you go anywhere outside of your little haven at the inn. "But better that, than someone breaking into your house."
He doesn't point out that he has a security system and his townhouse is in a gate community. There's no point and it would just further cause an discussion that is best left for the relative privacy of his bedroom - with a secret service agent parked outside in his living room. He sighs. "Shall we get more wine?" He asks, trying to change the subject.
"Sure." There are people starting to dance to the music being piped through outdoor speakers, but you're not really in a dancing mood. There's too much swirling around in your mind to be light on your feet. "Wine sounds like a good plan."
Sam leads you over to the bar, ever the gentleman and stands beside you to look at the drink selections. "They have a nice pinot grigio." He murmurs softly.
"Is that what you want too?" The bar is open, of course, but the catering company has allowed the bartender to put out a small and discreet tip jar for the reasonably large party tonight, and you have a few more bills in your purse that you're happy to add to the jar.
"I think I'm going to stick with the pinot noir." He tells you, holding up his almost empty glass.
You order both glasses without hesitation and tip the very pleasant bartender, handing Sam his glass after it's put on the bar top. Just something nice to get the night back on track. At least as far as the two of you go.
"So I think that we should drink our wine and then dance." Sam suggests. It would be a good visual and romantic as a bonus. He's not calculating, but he does understand that optics are important in politics. It's a good opportunity to romance you and look good for the discreet photographers that are roaming around.
"And at some point, eat cake." Trying to lighten the mood a little is really your go-to for diffusing tension in any situation, and the air around the two of you feels a little thick, so you offer him a big smile instead of getting serious again.
"Eating cake is always a good way to spend a night." Sam agrees, smiling back at you.
"Morning." You haul yourself into the restaurant's kitchen the next morning when you arrive bright and early for your eight-a.m. start time looking vaguely less drowsy than usual. The other member of your Secret Service detail â Agent Sisson â has music taste more in line with yours and you'd listened to Duran Duran on your way back to town this morning. That and a cup of strong coffee means that you're feeling okay but definitely in need of breakfast.
âWellllllll,â Sydneyâs grin is bright as she eyes you. âI see the walk of shame has taken on a festive air.â She teases, laughing as she moves over to pour you a cup of coffee. âI take it last night went well?â
âI have enough time to go upstairs and change before work,â you grumble, though youâre smiling and accept the cup of coffee gratefully. âUsual boring party, but I bring you home a new cake flavor combination to try, and it was nice to see Sam.â
She snorts. âNice to see Sam.â She mimics. âItâs like you ran into him in the store.â She huffs at you. âThis is your boyfriend. The man you love.â
âAnd thatâs why itâs nice to see him more than just one measly night a week.â Given that you have a few minutes, you hop up on a stool at the counter beside her work station and groan in appreciation at the slice of sweet Italian brioche and carefully cut piece of frittata she plates up for you without hesitation. âOh my god, thank you. All Iâve had so far is coffee. We overslept and both had to run out to get to work on time.â
âOversleptâŚâ she rolls her eyes and rubs her stomach. âI wish I could remember what that was like.â She grumbles. âThis one is giving me heartburn all the time and keeping my sleep short.â
âThey just really want to make sure you remember theyâre there,â you tease, picking up a forkful of frittata and not even caring whatâs inside. Everything Syd makes it incredible. âTwenty-seven whole more weeks of this, Mama. Get excited!â
âI am, I promise. But the kid can let me sleep in a little, right?â She huffs playfully. âSo how was the dinner? You came back from the market in a hurry so I didnât get to talk to you. Did you forget about this or was it last minute?â
âIt was last minute. He got a spontaneous invitation to a potential supporterâs wifeâs birthday party.â Oh my god, spinach and artichoke frittata, so fucking good. âShe got the gift of bragging rights that a Congressman and the First Daughter came to her party, and a very nice bottle of champagne.â
âSounds like a ton of fun.â Sydney likes hobnobbing even less than you do, preferring to be on the service side of fancy events. âSo you ate mildly bland catered food and drank way too much wine?â
âExactly. Which is why this tastes even more incredible than usual.â You point at your plate even while scooping up another bite. âSo did you and Juanito ever decide what youâre doing tomorrow? I know you scheduled yourself for the dinner rush, but youâve got to do something.â
âMy husband is amazing.â She promises, beaming in delight. âHe actually got us reservations at St. Regis for the Valentineâs Day Afternoon Tea.â
âOh, thatâs so sweet! Itâs so utterly romantic I could barf.â The momentary flash of jealousy is nothing, and youâre genuinely happy that theyâll be able to get out and do something. They work so incredibly hard and never complain for a second. âItâs perfect, Syd. I want a full report.â
âIâm excited.â She admits, biting her lip and fiddling with her practical silicone wedding band that she wears in the kitchen. âIâve also been promised a very relaxing massage and a few orgasms.â
âAll things which you deserve very much.â You raise your coffee cup in salute to her and grin.
âAt the very least.â She huffs, her own grin one of pure happiness. âI am growing Badilloâs baby.â She reminds you, as if it isnât common knowledge at this point. Sheâs so proud of being with her soulmate and she cock her head at you curiously. âHave you given any more thought to that tattoo?â She pries gently.
âYes and noâŚâ Itâs much more yes than no, if youâre honest with yourself, but the fact is that itâs probably not good to think about it as much as you have. Itâs like a never-ending loop in your mind and you absolutely canât shake it. âI just donât know what good it would do to bring it up. Or who I would even bring it up to.â
âYou know who you should bring it up to.â She huffs.
âWho?â You challenge, feeling like youâre stuck between a rock and a hard place without doing so much as being awake this morning. âMy boyfriend of almost a year who asked me to move in with him and wants to start planning our future? Or the guy I barely know who invited me to dinner yesterday when I ran into him at Eastern Market and looked so hurt when I had to ask him to reschedule that I still feel like I kicked the worldâs cutest puppy?â Clearly itâs been on your mind, and Syd is really the one person you can talk to about any of it. But admitting that youâve been thinking about Marcus feels like cheating and you have always despised cheaters deeply. Being cheated on will do that to a person.
âYou ran into Marcus?â Her eyes widen with the new information and she immediately sets down her spoon and walks around the counter to hug you. âOh honey, talk to me. What happened?â She asks softly. While she might be pushing you to at least ask if you might be soulmates, she doesnât want you to be upset.
âIt wasnât a big dealâŚwe ran into each other and we finished our shopping together.â Itâs such a relief to have a space to talk about it, and yet you know youâre blowing it out of proportion in your head. It was just a coincidence that you ran into him. Not fate. âWe were both talking about wanting Indian for dinner so he asked if I wanted to go to the restaurant with him. We were just going to hang out. Then Sam called.â
âAnd of course you said yes to Sam.â Sydney doesnât exactly approve of the way Sam seems to think that you wait for his call and will drop everything to accommodate him, but she doesnât say anything. âHow did Marcus take the change of plans?â
âHe said he understood and that it was fine.â Which is, technically, what happened. So when you shift your eyes away from hers, Sydney makes a noise and you cave. âHe seemed disappointed,â you admit, throwing up your hands. âBut Iâm probably just projecting that.â
âAnyone would be disappointed to not spend time with you.â Sydney defends immediately, always the best cheerleader for you. âMaybe text him and reschedule?â She suggests. âFriends have dinner, itâs not cheating. You arenât going out on a date.â
âI know itâs not cheating.â Syd knows better than anyone why you hate liars and cheaters. âI texted him on my way in this morning to reschedule, but I donâtâŚI donât know if heâll respond. He was probably just being polite asking in the first place.â
âI doubt that.â Sydney had seen the covert looks that each one of them had given the other when they werenât looking during game night. Both of them were curious and she is interested to know about that hummingbird tattoo, itâs not common, despite what you might say.
âThen itâs because Iâm best friends with his friendâs soulmate,â you reason instead.
âNo, itâs because Juan said that Marcus was trying to be polite but that he was interested in you.â Sydney tells you.
You feel the blood drain from your face shamefully fast, and your eyes dart up to meet your best friendâs. âHe said that?â
âYes.â She isnât going to lie to you, Juan had told her that. âBut, he also said that Marcus respects relationships and heâs not the type of man to make a move on you if youâre in a relationship.â She knows how you feel about that kind of thing and she agrees with you.
âWellâŚI meanâŚthatâs good? Isnât it? That just means heâs respectful.â Still , you find yourself sitting on the idea that Marcus likes you and being halfway between mortified and grinning. It feels ultimately childish and yet like your chest is filling full of something very much like joy.
âAccording to Juan, Marcus Pike is the best man, the best person that heâs ever known.â Sydney acknowledges with a nod, deciding not to comment on your giddy expression. âEven though he was busy with training at the academy, he was always helping with housework or running errands to take care of things.â She shrugs. âHis ex-wife was a med student. So I guess sheâs a doctor now.â
âItâs just a coincidence.â This mantra of yours is going to get old quick, but you have a partner. A long term one, even. One that until a week or so ago, you had thought you had a future with. Now that resolve is waning and you donât really know how you started to question yourself so easily.
Sensing that youâve dug your heels in, she backs off, giving a small shrug. âIâm sure it is.â She hums. âSo what are your Valentineâs Day plans with Sam?â She asks. âDid he plan something romantic?â
âWeâre going to dinner and then a community fundraiser in his district.â It doesnât sound romantic, you will admit that, but anything too luxurious you did can be perceived in a very wrong way by the general public if it gets out. A Congressman and the First Daughter going to a spa getaway or the symphony would be seen as being out of touch with the people. âHeâŚwants to talk about the future.â
âAnd you donât sound like itâs a conversation that you are eager to have.â She sits down, her own herbal tea in front of her and she frowns slightly.
âIâmâŚnot sure, honestly.â Without hesitation and without filter, the explanation about your conversation with Judge DâAmarioâs wife and what Sam said at dinner with them comes tumbling out of your mouth and you canât help but cringe to yourself when you get it all out in the open air. âAm I overreacting? Please tell me Iâm overreacting.â
Sydney winces and gives you a small shrug. âHe has known from the beginning that you arenât the type to want to be a typical politicianâs spouse and give up your career.â She reminds you. âRemember that night out in Alexandria? Where we were bar hopping? I had a very frank conversation with him about that.â
âYou did?â Your forehead scrunches as you take a sip of coffee. âThen why would he think I would be willing to have someone else manage the inn?â
âI donât know if I can answer that.â She admits quietly. âBut I think he gave them his true ideal. You quitting and being by his side for all his accomplishments.â
âItâs not that Iâm not proud of him.â Some would argue that that is what it signals, but you and Sydney are not those types of people. âHeâs doing such good work, and I do want to have kids and a house and all that domestic stuff. I justâŚI donât want to give up working. And I donât want to spend the rest of my life standing behind a podium waving politely. IâmâI want to be me, not an extension of my partner.â
âI know that.â She reaches out and takes your hand. âBut does Sam? Really? I think that he can convince you that itâs what you want.â She huffs. âI know heâs a good guy, but is he the right guy?â
âNot everybody finds perfect,â you remind her quietly, knowing that that is exactly what she has with Juan. Their version of perfect is about support, respect, and unending silliness, and youâve always craved the same. But there arenât many men in the world like Juan. Not many at all.
âThat doesnât mean you need to settle.â She tells you, squeezing your hand gently. âIf you are happy, Iâm happy. All I want is for you to be happy.â
âTo be honest?â Closing your eyes for a second to swallow a sigh, the best you can do is shake your head. âI didnât think I was settling. But now I canât help but wonderâŚâ
âThen you owe it to yourself, and to Sam, to make sure before you commit any further.â She suggests, knowing that you would feel horrible about divorcing later on.
âHow?â Itâs an honest question, since the situation is tangled up in guesses and implied maybes. âBreak up with Sam because Marcus might be my soulmate? What happens if Iâm wrong and I regret the whole thing? Sam would never take me back and I would deserve it.â
âAsk Marcus to show you the tattoo.â She hums. âThatâs not cheating. It would be no different than seeing him in swimming trunks.â
âIf he ever responds to me.â Which you sort of doubt. You sort of did just drop plans with him the second your boyfriend called. But you are the kind of person who makes your relationship a priority. You always have been.
âAnd if he doesnâtâŚ.â She shrugs. âYou just deal with that.â She frowns. âBut I would be upset if you had done the same to me.â
âIâm not saying he doesnât have a right to be upset with me.â Marcus has a right to feel however he feels. Heâs human, after all. âThis whole thing is just so out of left field. Especially after spending all of last year talking about freedom of affection and being happy with a partner who isnât your soulmate.â
âExcept you had never potentially met your soulmate.â She pauses and shakes her head. âIt doesnât matter, if you donât want to pursue it, donât. Juan wonât say anything and Iâll just encourage him to hang out with Marcus on a guys night.â
âI donât know,â you admit honestly, poking at the remains of your breakfast with a frown. âFirst letâs see if he speaks to me again. I gotta go change my clothes for work.â A heavy blanket of tension works on you that wasnât there when you came home, and you drag yourself off the stool with a swallowed sigh. âThanks for breakfast, honey.â
âIâm sorry.â She murmurs, wishing for a moment that Juan hadnât run into Marcus. Hadnât mentioned a tattoo that was throwing you into a spin. âIâm here whenever you need.â
âThank you.â Coming around the counter, you wrap your arms around her tightly and inhale, trying to remember your yoga and let the stress roll off your shoulders and not carry it into the work day. âAnd Iâm always here for you. No matter what.â
âI know.â She grins into your shoulder. âYouâre my best friend, bitch.â She teases. âI will go to war for you, bury bodies and not even think twice.â
"No hesitation." You link your pinkies together, the same way you have since you were little kids. "I really have to go change now. But thanks for listening to me ramble and fret."
âAnytime.â She scoffs, waving away your thanks. âYouâve listened to me plenty.â Lately itâs been about being a good mother and not completely wrecking Baby Badillo, but she understands the need to just vent. Youâre there for one another, both of you, through thick and thin.
______
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#Pedro Pascal#Pedro Pascal character fanfiction#Pedro Pascal fanfic#Marcus Pike#Marcus Pike x you#Marcus Pike x reader#Marcus Pike x female reader#Marcus Pike x f!reader#The Mentalist#soulmate au#First Daughter reader#Juan Badillo#Graceland#Juan Badillo x f!OC#Juan Badillo x OC#love triangle
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Half of this fic is just me looking for more excuses to put in all the cool women that the show wrote out
Still working on the next chapter for the GOT rewrite from hell, but I had to write a little about how the fuck menstruation works in Westeros (other than "oh you can get married now!" which I refuse to believe is the norm) and also to introduce the Sphinx:
The next morning, Shireen woke up to find blood on her shift and a sharp sort of twist in her stomach, as though she'd swallowed a molten pin. The blood came out easily enough, with frantic scrubbing in the basin, but the pain grew over the course of the morning.
"It's your flowering," said Maester Alleras briskly, when she went to him in a tightly-controlled panic. "How old are you?"
"Fourteen," said Shireen, realizing the date. Her nameday had passed two weeks ago.
"And what do you know of flowering?" he asked, smiling slightly at her blush. "Forgive me, but Northerners have queer ideas of teaching their children about these matters. I do not wish to presume your level of education."
"I know it can last for a week or more," Shireen said, thinking of Mother's cycles, how she would confine herself to her rooms to endure the pain in solitude and prayer. "It's very painful and disgusting, but it allows me to bear my future husband's children and therefore is a gift from the gods."
"Hmm. Well, that is what you were taught, at least," grunted the maester. He got up from his desk, rummaging through the cupboard behind him. He was a tall, skinny young man with the deep brown skin and tightly-coiled hair of a Summer Islander, and shared their fondness for brightly-colored nails: they seemed to dance along the shelves until he plucked out a jar and presented it to her with a flourish. "This will help with the pain, and stop the bleeding after this cycle. People of the North use it a great deal."
"Is it moon tea?" Shireen asked, taking it gingerly and wondering at Maester Alleras's use of the term Northerners, which sounded different from People of the North. Perhaps in the Summer Isles, everyone on Westeros was a Northerner. "Why do they use it so much here?"
"It is," he confirmed, "and as for why..." He shrugged. "I've only just arrived in Winterfell, you understand, and as you may have guessedâ" this said with another smileâ "I was born elsewhere. But from what I've gathered, they must be careful when they have children. The North can only feed so many."
Shireen thought of Fire & Blood, which Father had read to her as a child. The Winter Wolves had been a company of Northerners, who had answered Lord Cregan's call to fulfill the Pact of Ice and Fire with Rhaenyra Targaryen. They'd been greybeards who had knowingly marched to their deaths, for such was the custom of the North back then: at the start of each winter, the old men of each keep and castle and holdfast would choose amongst themselves who would go out into the snows. Some would return home in the spring, having endured the cold or escaped it to find their fortunes in southron lands; most would not.
"Put a thimbleful of this into whatever tea you like best," Maester Alleras continued, gesturing at the jar, his fingernails catching the light as it streamed into the rookery. "Once a day, and come back when you need more."
"Shouldn't I askâ" Shireen bit her lip.
But the maester caught her meaning; his eyes narrowed. "Shouldn't you ask your parents? Yes, I suppose you should. But they should be here to be asked, and they should have told you the truth."
"What's the truth?" Shireen asked, instead of admitting that Mother and Father had never told her anything about it. She couldn't imagine either of them even mentioning the subject. All her information had come from books, or from Mother's complaints.
"The truth is that if a cycle is painful and lasts for a week or more, that is the sign of an illness, not the will of a god. The truth is that you may well find it disgusting, but it is merely something our bodies do and should never be a source of disgust or shame to you or anyone else." He glared, though it did not seem directed at her. "And as for 'bearing your future husband's children,' the truth is that they are your children, just as much as his â indeed more so, unless he carries them about for the first nine months after their birth. But you will not be a woman grown for at least another two years, and any man who wishes you to bear children until at least that time is unworthy of your hand or your love." He sat back down, his half-dozen maester's links chiming musically. "Now run along, little princess."
Lady Sansa was just outside the door, with her brother beside her. "See, I told you she smelled funny," Rickon said triumphantly.
Shireen scowled at him. "Shut up." It was kind of him, she supposed, to have worked out that something was wrong and to wait for her outside the maester's chambers. But Rickon Stark was the sort of friend who was difficult to be grateful for.
"Yes, please do, Rickon," Lady Sansa said, pressing a businesslike kiss on the crown of Rickon's head before turning him round by the shoulders and pushing him down the corridor. Rickon protested, but went all the same, and Lady Sansa turned back to Shireen. "Moon tea?" she asked, nodding at the jar.
Shireen resisted the impulse to hide it somehow. It is merely something our bodies do and should never be a source of disgust or shame. "Yes, my lady," she said.
"Come along, then," said Lady Sansa. "I have some excellent tea from the Arbor. How does that sound?"
"Could I have a hot water-skin, too?" Shireen asked, as Lady Sansa looped her arm through hers.
"Of course. And the lemon trees in the greenhouse have given up their first fruits â we'll have lemon cakes for lunch instead of venison." She smiled and Shireen thought that even if Sansa Stark never took another husband or had children of her own, she was still all the mother that the North ever would need.
#Sarella/Alleras in the house!#seriously I love this character so much#I'm writing her here as a cis woman who's pretending to be a man because she wanted to be a maester#however all headcanons are obv valid and it's not like we're ever going to get an answer from Martin about this#also is this a chance to make a joke about how sansa is also 'mother'? MAYBE#anyway#got: bitches get stuff done#game of thrones motherfuckers#also I've seen the fanon around that Stannis read to Shireen as a child and that's why she thinks of it as a love language#which: just kill me#but also Fire & Blood is 100% the shit Stannis would read to a three-year-old
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Heartthrob | Arthur Fleck x reader đ CHAPTER 14
Summary:Â Attempting to conceal her checkered past, a young dancer in Gotham (Y/N) lands a job at Ha-Haâs and finds herself increasingly drawn to a shy, lonely clown named Arthur Fleck.
Warnings:Â sex, age gap, language, violence, mental illness, assault
Word Count:Â 3438
Chapter List: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13
Wayne Manor stood on a huge, sprawling estate. Living in Gotham made it easy to forget that places like this existed in the world. The trees were greener. The streets were so clean, they almost sparkled. There were no sirens, no smell of rotting garbage, no hunched over zombies stumbling in the streets. This part of Long Island was like a little eden - a heaven on earth carved out and carefully guarded by the ultra wealthy.Â
âThis is it,â you breathed as you and Arthur approached the gates. Fortunately, there were no angry dobermans prowling about the grounds today. Only freshly-trimmed grass and the towering mansion in the distance. You wondered if anyone was even home.Â
Suddenly, Arthur froze in his tracks. âY/N?âÂ
âYeah?âÂ
He turned to face you, shoving his hands into his pockets, throwing his eyes to the ground.
âWhat do you think heâll say?â
Your heart broke for Arthur all over again. You couldnât imagine all the emotions that must be careening through him right now. Â
âThomas Wayne?â you drew in a breath. âI guess I donât know what heâll say. But weâre gonna get an answer out of him one way or another.âÂ
âI justâŚâ Arthur sighed. âI just want him to talk to me. You donât think thatâs too much to ask, is it?â
You reached out and stroked Arthurâs cheek.Â
âI donât think so,â you shook your head. âAfter all, you said your motherâs been writing to him all this time and she hasn't gotten a response. Iâm sure the Waynes have people who handle their correspondence - maybe theyâve ignored it or maybe nothingâs gotten through yet. Either way, I know Iâd do the same thing if I were in your shoes.â
Arthur looked up at you. Those arresting, green eyes: filled with hope, hurt, anticipation. You said a silent prayer in that moment that whatever happened next, Arthur got the answers he needed. The answers he fucking deserved.Â
Arthur pulled his hands out of his pockets and clasped them over your wrist. âIâm so glad youâre here, Y/N. If I had to come all by myself, I donât think Iâd have the guts to-â
He stopped, his eyes catching hold of something in the distance.
âWhat is it?â You turned around. Nothing had moved or changed that you could see. It took you a minute of scanning the surroundings until, finally, you spotted him: a tiny, sad-looking little boy playing all alone on a wooden jungle gym near the front gates. He couldnât have been more than eight or nine years old.Â
âI think thatâs his son,â you murmured. âI heard about him a couple times in the news.â
âBruce Wayne,â Arthur said.Â
âThatâs right, Bruce.â You stared at the boy, mystified. There was a distinct melancholy and isolation you could feel radiating off of him, even from so far away.Â
âHe looks soâŚsoâŚâ You struggled to find the words.
âAlone.âÂ
You pursed your lips and looked back at Arthur, nodding. And then another realization dawned on you.Â
âOh my God,â you blinked. âIf Thomas Wayne really is your father, then that would meanâŚâ
Arthur swallowed, nodding. âIâve thought about that, too. I know it sounds crazy, but now that I see himâŚIâŚâ
You waited.Â
âHe reminds me so much of myself when I was a little boy.âÂ
âOh shit,â you exhaled, looking back at Bruce, then back at Arthur. âI meanâŚI suppose given what your motherâs saidâŚwhat do you wanna do, Arthur?âÂ
Arthur took a deep breath and to your surprise, a warm, gently confident smile began to spread across his face.Â
âIâm gonna go say âhi.ââ
âDo you want me to come with you?â You wanted Arthur to feel completely supported. You knew that sometimes being supportive looked like coming along, and other times it looked more like hanging back and letting the other person take the lead.Â
âI think I should do this part myself,â he said. âBut Iâll come get you if I need to.âÂ
âIâll be right here,â you squeezed his hand. âI love-â
Wait, what the hell were you saying? Had you completely taken leave of your senses?
âUhm,â you cleared your throat. âI loveâŚwaiting!â you finished brightly, hoping heâd buy it. âIâll wait as long as you need and Iâll be right here. Be strong, okay? And if they give you any trouble, call me andâŚIâll beat everyone up!â
Arthur smiled, lifted your hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it, sending chills through your entire being. If heâd somehow picked up on your almost-love-confession, he didnât show it.Â
Arthur already has enough on his mind right now, you chastised yourself as you watched him approach the gate. He doesnât need you muddling it further with your irrational emotions.Â
You couldnât tell Arthur you loved him now. First of all, it was way too soon.Â
Second of allâŚ
Well, the second part was embarrassing. And more than a little crazy. You knew your feelings for Arthur were real, but that didnât stop you from recognizing how intense they were after only knowing him a short time.Â
So why, then, did it feel like the most natural thing to say? The thing you sensed he needed to hear?
You meandered further up the drive, away from the entrance, giving Arthur his space but staying close enough so you could quickly run to his side if necessary.Â
It was startlingly quiet here compared to the endless cacophony of Gotham City. So quiet, it felt like if you stopped and listened carefully, you could hear the wind in the trees singing to you.Â
Despite the peaceful surroundings, however, bitter memories began to weave their way into your mind. You knew a good faction of your former GU classmates hailed from this part of Long Island - hell, some of their families probably even rubbed elbows with the Waynes themselves: probably got invited to their fancy Christmas and New Yearâs Eve parties, toasting their continued privilege and fortune over a bottle of champagne that cost more than you made in a month.Â
You didnât have anything in common with those people. So how on earth had you found yourself among them in the first place?Â
The answer was almost annoyingly simple: your parents had drilled the importance of getting an education into you since you were a toddler, telling you it would open doors, get you the better life you deservedâŚunlike the two of them whoâd gotten jobs straight out of high school and lamented nonstop how much the lack of a college education had held them back from their potential.Â
âPotential,â you muttered to yourself under your breath. That was the word theyâd always used and it still left a sour taste in your mouth.Â
âYou have so much potential, Y/N,â theyâd always say. âBut you canât let it go to waste. You have to work three times as hard as everyone else in order to realize it.â Â
Youâd believed them - bought their promises hook, line and sinker and dutifully applied yourself like the good little girl you were. The truth was, youâd never quite fit in at Burnley High, either. Most of the kids there dropped out or phoned in the bare minimum to scoot by and pick up a diploma, but youâd been among the top five performers in your graduating class of over 400 students. Youâd done the extra work, taken the hardest classes, stayed home and sacrificed any semblance of a normal teenage social life to mold yourself into the high-achieving student your family wanted you to be.Â
And it had paid off. At least for a brief moment in time. When the letter from Gotham University arrived saying youâd gotten in with a full scholarship, youâd cried tears of joy. Your mother had cried. Your father said he was proud of you. He never said things like that.
You remembered back to that day: the teary-eyed seventeen year old girl holding an acceptance letter in her sweaty, trembling hands like a golden badge of honor. That badge represented everything youâd worked your entire life for, everything youâd ever wanted: Validation. Recognition. Belonging.
Belonging. Yes, back then, that same girl believed she was finally being admitted through the golden gates to a place she belonged. Youâd been naive enough to assume that at college youâd encounter more people like yourself, people who came from nothing but made amazing things happen through hard work and belief in themselves.Â
But Gotham U had been nothing like youâd expected.Â
Yes, the students were bright, but the vast majority were also spoiled and entitled. They seemed to take their enrollment at the school for granted, and the fact that their parents paid their tuition in full (were able to pay it in the first place) didnât in any way accelerate their work ethic. These were kids whose parents owned country houses, summer houses and yachts. Kids who went to horseback riding camp every summer since they were six, learned how to ski when they were four, took vacations over spring break to places like Paris or Barcelona or the Hamptons.Â
Youâd never even ridden on an airplane.Â
How ignorant that girl with the acceptance letter was, you mused. The dream of being a student at Gotham University had powered everything youâd worked for the first 17 years of your lifeâŚand all too late turned into a horrible nightmare.Â
âPotential.â What did it mean now? Of course, your parents were still holding out hope youâd eventually return to GU. But GU was just like the Waynes themselves: they wanted to portray themselves as a beacon of magnanimity and altruism, but when it came to actually stepping up and doing the right thing, their interests lay solely with themselves and their ability to maintain wealth and power. When the cards were down, a poor scholarship girl from Burnley High didnât qualify for basic human consideration. And your biggest mistake was believing that they ever would.Â
After all the unpleasantness that had occurred towards the end of your first year - the schoolâs administration âgenerouslyâ forcing you to take medical leave or be expelled - youâd started to believe you didnât belong anywhere. You didnât see a future for yourself anymore. And feeling this way not only made you incredibly sad, but it scared you.Â
But all that had started to change since meeting Arthur. Arthur, you imagined, who right now was probably feeling the same way you had on the first day of freshman orientation: Hoping, with the most optimistic part of his heart, that he just might find the love and acceptance heâd yearned for for so long. Â
But was life on the other side of those golden gates all that Arthur imagined it could be?Â
Suddenly, you felt extremely protective of him. You knew it was inappropriate to eavesdrop, but who were you kidding? Just the thought of Arthur going through something similar to your experience at that school was unthinkable. You tiptoed closer - not close enough to be spotted, but close enough to give yourself the best chance of overhearingâŚwell, spying.Â
âBruce! What are you doing?â Another manâs voice shot out accusingly over the quiet. âGet away from that man.â
Shit. Not good. Your heart started to race.Â
Please, you prayed, please donât be assholes.Â
You realized almost immediately how useless such a plea was. These were the Waynes, after all.Â
âItâs okay,â you heard Arthur respond. âIâm a good guy.â
Resisting the urge to race to Arthurâs side took every inch of self control in your body. You reminded yourself that heâd wanted to do this alone. You wanted to respect that. Arthur could hold his own. He was a strong person, deep down. And dealing with rudeness was nothing he wasnât accustomed to.
But if they were complete assholes to him, you didnât know how much you could tolerate.Â
You crept even closer, still hidden behind the giant shrubs that surrounded the estate. The other voice couldnât belong to Thomas Wayne, you reasoned. Thomas Wayne didnât have an English accent. Â
âCan you tell Mr. Wayne that I need to see him?â Arthur asked.Â
At that moment, the wind picked up, compromising your ability to hear as clearly as before. You cursed under your breath, cupping your hand to your ear.Â
â...your mother was a sick woman,â you heard the other man say to Arthur in the coldest, most unfeeling tone imaginable. âShe was delusional.â
Your jaw dropped. Your right hand fell from your ear and twisted reflexively into a fist.Â
âDonât say that,â you growled under your breath.Â
Exactly who the fuck did these people think they were? Couldnât they put themselves in another personâs shoes for just one fucking second? If the roles were reversed, wouldnât they want the same answers? Didnât everyone deserve that?Â
Deep breaths, Y/N, you told yourself. Deep breaths.Â
âJust go,â the manâs cruel, disdainful voice echoed up the drive. âBefore you make a bigger fool of yourself.âÂ
That did it. Fuck the deep breaths. Fuck taking the high road. And fuck this rude asshole.
The entire world blurred into raging red as you found yourself barreling like a fiery cannonball down the drive to Arthurâs side, ready to fight, to climb those gates like an acrobat and beat the living hell out of that asshole - any anyone else who wanted some, too.Â
How dare he talk to Arthur Fleck, your Arthur Fleck, that way?Â
When you rounded the corner, you were surprised and more than a little satisfied to see that Arthur had already reached through the gates and grabbed the dude by his collar, holding him in a semi-chokehold.Â
âKick his ass!â you cried out. âKick his motherfucking ass!âÂ
The rude manâs eyes darted to you, filled with surprise, confusion, fear. And the inability to utter another word for lack of oxygen.Â
Good.
You pulled your right arm back and swung through the gates with all your strength, punching him square across the face while Arthur held him in place. The manâs nose started bleeding and you smiled. Your anger made you strong, increased your strength exponentially in the moments you needed it most. Though youâd never admit it to anyone, it was one of the things you actually liked about this part of yourself that you were supposed to reject, to work so hard to rid yourself of.Â
You liked feeling strong in a world where everyone was more than happy to step and walk all over you without a second thought. And you were tired of pretending you didnât.
Arthur was a slight, diminutive man, but his anger made him strong, too. He had the asshole so tight by the collar, it looked like his face was turning red.Â
You were winding up, about to strike again when you suddenly registered the face of the sad little boy from before. Standing off to the side, he was now a very scared-looking little boy; frozen like a little Bambi fawn, eyes wide, terrified.Â
TerrifiedâŚof you. Of the both of you.Â
Those bewildered eyes were enough to stop you in your tracks. All at once, common sense and empathy rushed back into your heart like an ocean wave. As much as this surly jackass deserved a beatdown, you knew youâd never forgive yourself for permanently traumatizing a defenseless little kid.Â
Even if he was a Wayne.Â
As though heâd come to the same realization at the same exact moment, Arthur released the man just as you stopped yourself from throwing another, harder, right hook. The jerk fell backwards, clutching at his crumpled collar, and Arthur grabbed your arm. Without exchanging a word, you raced back up the drive together, running like two gazelles as fast as your feet could carry you.Â
The next few minutes were a continued blur. Wayne Manor receded further and further into the background as you drew closer to the train station. Youâd been too afraid to turn back and see if anyone was chasing you, but by now the adrenaline was wearing off, and your legs felt like they could give out at any second.Â
âArthur, wait!â you stopped, breathlessly, reaching out to grab him by the sleeve. Mustering up the courage to look back, you were relieved to see you hadnât been followed. Youâd managed to escape by the skin of your teeth.Â
âI think weâre in the clear,â you gasped for air.Â
Arthur stopped and turned to face you, panting. âAre you alright, Y/N? Are you hurt?âÂ
âIâm fine,â you shook your head. âIâm so sorry, Arthur. This is all my fault.â
A confused look came across his face and he took both your hands into his. âWhat do you mean?â
âI went crazy again. I werewolfed! I didnât mean to, it's justâŚâ your eyes filled with tears, realizing all too late of course, that the last thing youâd wanted in accompanying Arthur today was to do anything that would ultimately result in making it harder for him to get the answers he needed.Â
How could you have let this happen?Â
Arthur held up a hand to stop you. âI went crazy first,â he pointed out.Â
âWell, yeah, you grabbed the guy,â you conceded. âBut Iâm the one who made his nose bleed, for Godâs sake! I never wouldâve done it if I knew the kid was watching.â You shook your head, tears filling your eyes. âI shouldnât have gotten involvedâŚâ
âNo, Y/N,â Arthur squeezed your hands in his. âIâm glad you were there. I didnât wanna scare the little boy, either. Seeing him brought me back to myself. I know what itâs like to be scared at that ageâŚscared and helplessâŚâ
Arthurâs words made the tears youâd been fighting swell over and you fell into his arms.Â
âItâs okay, Y/N. Shh, come here.â Arthur pulled you into a tight embrace against his chest.Â
âI didnât mean to scare him,â you sobbed into his shoulder. âIâm a bad person, Arthur. Iâm awful.â
âThatâs not true!â he protested. âWhy are you saying that?â
He stepped back and tried to look you in the eye, but you were too ashamed to face him. The mean, inner voice youâd suffered with in secret since you were a little kid had taken over and had you in its iron grip of shame:
You donât deserve to be loved.
Youâre defective.
Youâre worthless.
Youâre awful.Â
âItâs okay, Y/N,â Arthur whispered into your hair. âI understand. I understand what youâre feeling. But itâs not true. Whatever youâre telling yourself right now is not true.âÂ
You cried harder into his embrace. You might have known heâd understand. Youâd found the one person in the world who felt what you felt - or at least the one person brave enough to admit to it.Â
âPlease donât cry, Y/N.â You could feel Arthurâs heart pounding against your ears. âYou're not a bad person,â he murmured into your hair. âYouâre anything but a bad person.â
âBut I messed everything up. Like I always do.â
âYou stopped yourself from taking things further,â Arthur pointed out. âWe both did. That means something.âÂ
âBut how are you gonna find out if Thomas Wayneâs your father now?â you wailed. âHow are you gonna get your answers?â
âWeâll figure something out,â Arthur reassured you. âI donât want you worrying about that.â
Arthur brought his hands to your face, cradling it. You looked up into his shining, green eyes, tenderness emanating from them. His fingers gently stroked back your hair, wiped away your tears.Â
âYou need to breathe, Y/N. Can you take a deep breath?â
He breathed with you. In and out. And in and out again. Finally, you felt your pulse begin to slow, the maddening blur of self-hatred and negative vitriol shift from a wild gallop to a trot. It was a small change, but enough to allow you to start feeling human again.Â
Arthur stepped back and a small, shy smile spread across his face.Â
âThank you, Y/N,â he said.Â
You wiped your nose, bewildered. ââThank youâ? For what?âÂ
âFor coming here with me. For standing up for me the way you have. No oneâs ever done anything like that for me before.â
âBut, Arthur, I-â
âIf you hadnât been there for me, Iâd be all alone right now,â he interjected. âLike Iâve been all my life. But Iâm not alone anymore. Because of you.â
His shy smile shifted into a sly grin. He placed a soft kiss on your cheekbone.Â
âI love you, too,â he whispered, before tenderly bringing his mouth to yours.Â
Thank you for reading and for all the sweet, encouraging comments! I have struggled to write this as of late, but I'm committed to finishing this story and can't wait to share the rest of it with you. I hope you enjoy this latest chapter.
xx fleckficgirl
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pretty please (stay with me) || c.sc | 1
"After being assigned a fashion show for your big senior project, you set off to find volunteers to make it successful. However, when you meet Choi Seungcheol and his unfriendly clique through your volunteers, you realize theyâre an unwanted package deal you canât escape from. Can you handle Seungcheol's obnoxious friends, and can he handle your brash behavior?"
đ Pairing: businessMajor!Seungcheol x fashionMajor!Reader (f)
đ Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Slice of life (!!!), slow burn, drama, fluff, angst; Unrequited enemies to lovers (lol), strangers to lovers, college au
đ Warnings: [general tw (won't be repeated in the other chapters)] reader has she/her pronouns (referred to as girl, miss), reader dresses really feminine, reader is not nice, character outfit descriptors, parent/family issues (marital problems), bullying | [chapter tw] âjokeâ that implies prostitution in a negative way, near car accident (rear end), brief mention of death thru a joke
đ WC: 14.8k
đ Betas: Huge shout out to my bae, @love-strike, for being with me throughout this whole process, for listening to me whine, for helping me brainstorm majors for OT13, and for being so supportive! tysm đ And thank you to @playmetheclassics, @here4kpopfics, @angelwoozi for also beta'ing this series! ty for your time and for your sweet feedback! i really cherish everyone's efforts and brains hehe đĽ°đ i understand this was not an easy task to take on.
đ Author's Note: HAPPIEST BIRTHDAY TO THE LOML, CHOI SEUNGCHEOL!!!!!!!!! đâĽď¸ I started this fic in September 2022 and contemplated even publishing it multiple times. I think this will be the first fic I've worked on for so long and published. Also, this is the longest fic I've ever written, so that's exciting! It was supposed to be one long one-shot, but I ended up writing way too much for a one-shot LOL. I'm really proud of myself for powering through and not abandoning it, as I've done in the past. I also wrote this all in past tense and spontaneously decided to change it to present đŞ Anyway, please enjoy the start of this couple's journey đ
also read here: AO3 | Wattpad
seventeen masterlist | main masterlist
previous chapter \\ series masterpost // next chapter
When people say good students are those who arrive on time, you find it hard not to scoff. Professors should care more about how hard-working one is rather than if they show up on the dot.
Of course, you do try to make it on time, but can you really leave your house looking less than perfect? Absolutely not. Plus, the first fifteen minutes usually consist of professors getting set up for their classes, so you donât feel like you are missing anything of importance.
Today is no different.
Ten minutes past the official class time, you stroll inside the room. Students are seated where they normally sit, some are on their phones, and others are trying to finish some last-minute homework assignments. Itâs a fairly small class, and being in your senior year means everyone knows each other well. Although, most of the people in your class think ill of you and donât talk to you.
At first, you thought it was a pity, but in the end, you realized you didnât want to befriend those who would only talk shit behind your back. This is what you figured they did since they were never discreet when they exchanged whispers with their eyes glued to you.Â
Luckily, you have at least one friend in the class. Quality over quantity, right?
âRight on time,â your friend, Dae, says with a sly smile when she spots you.
You chuckle and slide into the seat next to her. âClass started fifteen minutes ago.â
âIt did, but youâre right on time for you,â she explains with a knowing grin.
âGuess I need to be more late from now on,â you tease as you take out your iPad.
The device is a holy grail to you. Majoring in fashion design means all your ideas and creations over the past few years are stored there. When you donât have it, itâs stored in secret in your house. Maybe thatâs a little excessive, but losing it would feel like losing a part of yourself. After all, art creations always include a part of the creator. The device almost feels like itâs an extension of yourselfâsomething too personal for others to peek at.
Dae rolls her eyes. âOr you could come on time. That would be different.â
âWhy would I? The first fifteen minutes are worthless,â you huff and open your notes.
âI wouldnât quite say that,â Dae answers, sliding a piece of paper over. You glance down at it.
Prepare for the annual Senior Fashion Show! Students are to create their own fashion show with a theme of their choice. The show will be toward the end of the semester in the Main Theatre (official times and dates TBD). The project will count for 80% of your grade as this will require you to use all the skills youâve acquired as a student. When creating your show, be sure to be mindful of the followingâŚ
âThis was handed out at the beginning of class. Seems like weâre going to have to work with students from outside our department,â Dae comments after she gives you a few minutes to read everything.
So, this is it.
Every senior majoring in fashion design is required to participate. You attended every fashion show hosted during your time as a student here. You were always left in awe, motivated to be a student that would leave behind a name for themselves at the college. You want to inspire the next seniors just as the ones inspired you before.
While this assignment has your body giddy with excitement, there is a part you are dreading.
People skills are not your forte.
Not because you feel awkward talking to new people, but because the conversations always end unpleasantly. Sometimes with back-handed compliments, insults, or them trying to scold you. You hope that wonât be the case while recruiting volunteers.
âSo, do we have the class period to start getting things together?â you question once you finish skimming through the instructions again. Youâre responsible for a lot more elements than you anticipated. You need lighting, music, a theme, backstage helpers, hair and makeup artists, an advertiser, and most importantly, models. This is when you wish you had a large network. Though, every friend you tried to make didnât end up lasting. Dae is the only person who has stuck by your side.
âYup,â she replies. âWeâll be doing mini assignments throughout the semester to help us prepare. I think itâs just a way for Dr. Lim to give us grades so he doesnât get in trouble.â
âProbably,â you sigh. You are already feeling stressed. Quickly, you scribble down a list of to-doâs in your notes.
âDo you have a theme in mind already?â Dae asks after a moment.
âNo, do you?â you wonder.
Dae sits back in her chair, pen resting between her fingers. âI was thinking about something with space? Maybe my main colors will be blue, purple, and black.â
âOh? Isnât that what youâve been doing, though? Donât you want to try something different?â
Although the question is harmless, the tone of your voice must have rubbed Dae the wrong way. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and then looks at you again.
âThink of it as branding, okay? Why does it bother you so much?â she wonders with a frown. Realizing your mistake, you inhale slowly.
âIt doesnât. I didnât mean to sound rude. Iâm sure your stage will do well,â you reply, forcing a small smile on your lips.
âNo âsorryâ?â Dae asks despite knowing it isnât part of your favorite vocabulary.
You narrow your eyes at her. âNope. Just donât be so defensive next time.â
âYouâre insufferable,â Dae answers. âOne day, you will be sorry for your behavior.â
Shrugging, you say, âThereâs always a chance, but maybe if the world wasnât so insecure, saying sorry wouldnât be so wanted.â
Dae exhales disapprovingly at your thought process, displeased with your reply. âWell, for now, maybe try to be more empathetic?â
âI have bigger things to worry about right now. For instance,â you start, a finger at the top of your to-do list, âIâve got to find someone who can provide me with music.â
Fuck, itâs too loud in here.
The sounds of different instruments being played at once, all emitting different tunes, have a migraine bubbling in your head.
You make a beeline to the professor who is sitting in the corner. She is an older lady, evident by her wrinkles and gray hair. Yet, her features are soft, and the smile she gives you makes you feel at ease.
âHello, miss, can I assist you?â she asks when youâre in hearing range.
âI didnât mean to interrupt, but I was hoping you could help me with an assignment?â you wonder and offer her a kind smile, hoping she wonât shoo you away immediately.
âAh, itâs alright. Theyâre just practicing for an upcoming assignment today. What is it you need, dear?â
âWho would you consider your best student? Is there a way you can get me in contact with them?â
The professorâs eyes widen slightly at the question. She didnât expect that. Nevertheless, her gaze rises to scan the classroom.
âThere,â she points as discreetly as she can. You follow her finger, which lands on a blonde-haired guy tuning his guitar. âLee Jihoon. Heâs the most talented student Iâve ever had.â
âThis semester?â you ask out of curiosity.
The professor shakes her head. âEver.â
You canât stop the small disbelieving huff that escapes you. The best student ever? You arenât sure how long sheâs been teaching, but you doubt out of all her time, he is the best. He looks too young.
âNow, now, donât judge a book by its cover,â she scolds gently. You have to force yourself not to roll your eyes at the phrase. Youâve heard it too many times that its meaning lost its effect on you.
âWhat makes him your best student?â you question, sight going back to the man who is oblivious to your stare. He sits next to another student who also has a guitar. They seem to be friends from the way they are laughing together.
âHis work is versatile and very good. Iâm positive he will be the perfect person for your project.â The way she speaks about him makes you believe her. There was no waver to her voice, and her eyes hold a fondness in them you know one canât replicate if not genuine.
âHow long until they have their assignment due?â you wonder, realizing you may have to wait until the class ends before you could talk to him.
The professor smiles. âIâll let them have five more minutes so you can introduce yourself.â
Internally, you sigh in relief. Youâre grateful you donât have to wait.
âThank you,â you say before strolling to the man.
As you near, his friend glances up. Heâs mid-sentence when he spots you, eyes growing slightly at the sight of you. Youâre used to getting looks like that. Your fashion is always dressier than the average college student's. People just arenât used to it.
âHi,â the brunette friend says. He has prince-like features, and you almost consider asking him to be one of your models. You give him a small grin out of politeness before turning to the whole reason you came over.
âLee Jihoon?â you ask.
Jihoonâs mouth parts slightly in surprise. âUh, y-yeah. Do I know you?â
âNo. My nameâs Yn. I have a project in a class and need someone to provide music for me. You wonât get paid, but any extra experience is always good, right?â you greet, not wanting to dance around the subject. After all, this is only the first of many on your to-do list.
âWhat major are you in?â he wonders, brows knitted in confusion.
âFashion design,â you answer.
Jihoon is silent for a moment. âAnd how did you find me?â
This guy is more difficult than you wished. You just need him to say yes.
âI asked for the best student, and you were recommended. So, what do you say? Will you help me?â
Jihoon gives you a small smile, but something about it rubs you wrong. âSorry, my plate is a little full right nowââ
âDo you need money? I can give you some afterward.â
You try not to sound desperate. Lee Jihoon is not the only music majorâthis is obvious by the amount of noise you hear in the background.
But you never settle for less than the best.
You have been looking forward to this project since your college tour here.Â
âItâs not that,â Jihoon chuckles awkwardly. âI have other assignments I have to practice for, but Iâm sure there will be someone else to help you. Thereâs a lot of talented students herââ
âBut theyâre not the best,â you interrupt. What else can you offer him that will make him say yes?
âWell, being the best is subjective,â Jihoon counters, voice light so you know he doesnât mean it rudely.
You open your mouth to bargain with him more, but his friend leans into his ear. The noise from the other instruments behind you makes it hard to hear what they are saying.
Patience is something you rarely have. The longer you stand there waiting, the more annoyed you get.
âLook, you have almost a full semester to get a song done by then. Iâm sure you can find some timââ
âFine,â Jihoon grumbles as he shoves his friend away. âIâll do it.â
âOh,â you pause. You are fully prepared to go down the mental list of how helping you will help him in return. One that will be complete bullshit, but if it gets him to say yes, then so be it. Luckily, you donât have to.Â
âGreat!â you say.
You arenât going to give him time to back out, so you quickly retrieve a business card you had made from your purse. Itâs easier to exchange contact information, and you never know when you may run into someone important. Being in an artistic field means competition. You always need to have an eye out for something, or someone, that will help you get your name out there.
âHereâs my number. Please contact me before the day ends.â
Jihoon takes the card and examines it. âGot it. What kind of music will you need?â
âIâm not sure yet, but Iâll let you know,â you reply. He nods in response.
âI look forward to hearing your music. Iâll talk to you later then,â you say.
You have half a heart to wish them both luck on their assignment, but part of you is a little petty that Jihoon put you through some trouble. Instead, you give them a wave before turning on your heel.
As youâre leaving, you hear a loud sigh followed by a laugh from behind you.Â
âShut up, Shua,â Jihoon groans before the professor calls everyoneâs attention.
Music, check. Now, whatâs next?
As you make your way down the hallway, you stumble across Dae. She is surrounded by two other male students, none of whom you know. You donât plan to greet her since she seems busy, but the sound of your heels clicking against the tile catches her attention.
âYn!â she calls out cheerfully.
You halt in your tracks, turning to see her smiling at you. She gestures for you to come over, so you do.
âHey,â you say to her.
âHowâs your project going?â she asks.
âI got someone to help me with music,â you reply, then glance behind her to see the two guys staring at you. Dae follows your gaze and makes a small âoh!â
âIs that all? Do you have anyone for advertising or graphics?â Dae wonders, her voice seemingly excited.
âI donât,â you answer hesitantly. Her eagerness has you worried.
âPerfect!â she exclaims, then turns to the others. âThis is Yejun and Jeonghan. Theyâre both advertising majors. Yejun agreed to help me with my project, but Jeonghan,â she pauses to address the man. He has blonde hair that goes past his eyes. His soft features are handsome and almost angelic.Â
âJeonghan, would you mind helping my friend with hers? Sheâs super talented.â
Jeonghan glances at you, but before he can say anything, you ask him, âWhat are your skills? Do you have some work I could see first?â
Jeonghan looks taken aback. âO-oh, I donât have a portfolio yet, sorry.â
âAh, thatâs fine,â you say before looking at Dae. âThanks for trying to help me, but Iâll find someone else.â
Daeâs eyes narrow at you. âCome on, Yn. Jeonghan is really good!â
âDidnât you just meet him?â you question and try to stop the scoff that threatens to escape.
âWell, yes, but Yejun has been my friend for a while, and Iâve seen his work. Yejun and Jeonghan have worked together as well, and their creations are unique!â
You inhale deeply, eyes roaming from your friend to Jeonghan. He offers you a smile.
âWhat your friend said,â Jeonghan replies with a small chuckle.
âTrust me on this,â Dae says. âJeonghan wonât disappoint you.â
You donât feel at ease agreeing to someone blindly. Daeâs definition of âreally goodâ could be different from yours. Although her work is good, you feel your standards are way above hers. You had planned to ask for the best student for each assigned task, so having been offered a random helper with no proof of their credentials is unnerving.Â
Granted, you havenât heard Jihoonâs work, but you were sold on the way the professor spoke about him. Dae, on the other hand, is not a professor and could be biased as Yejun is her friend. Though, you still have a lot more positions to fill, and you need to do so soon.
Sighing, âFine. You can work with me.â
From the way you word your sentence, itâs almost as if Jeonghan is supposed to jump up and down with glee. He doesnât.
You grab another business card from your purse and hand it to Jeonghan. He takes it slowly.
âJust so you know, I have the right to replace you with someone else if I see your work isnât fit,â you warn as Jeonghan slips the card into his pocket.
His eyes lock on yours. âThat wonât be necessary,â he answers, not bothered by your comment.
âOh?â you wonder and quirk an eyebrow up.
âHm. You also need graphics, right? I have a person for that as well,â Jeonghan says.
âI havenât seen their work yetââ
âYouâre not very trusting, huh?â Jeonghan observes with a laugh. You shift your weight on one hip, not liking the way he is trying to tell you about your personality when he doesn't know you.
âI just know what I want, and I wonât settle,â you answer sharply.
Dae huffs next to you and gives you a gentle shove, indicating you to ease up. That isnât going to happen.
Jeonghan doesnât reply and instead takes out his phone. His fingers dance around the screen for a minute before he turns the device for you to see. On the screen is an Instagram account with various posts of different art and graphic pieces. Your eyes drift to the username. by_xuminghao_o. His art is impressive and definitely not an amateur like you half expected.
âSo, about not settling,â Jeonghan trails off, a hint of a cocky smirk on his lips.
âI expect you both to contact me before the day ends,â is all you respond with.
Jeonghan pockets his phone and nods. He seems content with your answer even though you donât confess the art meets your standards.
âAll good then?â Dae asks, glancing between you two.
âWeâre good,â Jeonghan replies and gives you another smile of hisâone you are starting to hate seeing. There is just something about it that seems like he knows more things than you in a cocky, condescending way.
Yejun glances at his watch and then nudges Jeonghan.
âThanks, ladies, but we have a class to attend. Nice to meet you, Yn,â Yejun says.
You hum in response while turning away from them. Dae says her goodbyes, watching as they leave before putting her focus on you.
âDo you have to be so picky?â she sighs.
âAs I said, I know what I want. Iâve waited to do this project for years. It has to be perfect,â you explain and pull out your iPad. You check off music and advertising from your to-do list. Graphics arenât listed, but you figure it will be a nice addition.
âI understand, butââ
âJust focus on your project, and Iâll focus on mine, okay?â you interrupt. You donât feel like hearing her lecture you for a second time today.
âAlright,â Dae answers. âIâll see you around,â she says, walking away before you can say anything else.
With her back turned, you roll your eyes at her attitude. It has your mood lowering, and you conclude youâre done with human interaction for now. You carefully place your iPad back in your bag, then make a beeline to the parking lot, ready to go home to figure out a theme for your show.
Home is somewhere you donât enjoy being.
It always has this melancholy cloud looming over you. You can never seem to get rid of it completely. Even on the good days, it lingers in the corner of the room, always threatening to float above you. You doubt it will ever dissipate.
Your back is against the headboard of your bed, your iPad resting against your legs that are pulled to your chest. The music playing is too low for your liking, but you know if itâs any louder, your father will scold you for the high volume. Sometimes you will raise it just to get him to talk to you. Though today is not one of those days. You want to be left alone for once, which isn't usually too hard to do unless your sister needs attention. Like now.
âToday is the last day. Pleaseeee, Yn!â your sister whines at the foot of your bed. Her small body is bouncing with desperation and eagerness.
Reluctantly, you flicker your gaze up at her. The slight scowl on your face doesnât seem to faze her⌠Probably because sheâs seen it so much.
âCanât you see Iâm busy?â you exasperate, gesturing to your iPad.
Seoah frowns. âWhen are you not? Come on! Itâll take, like, ten minutes. Iâve been looking forward to getting a Fallinâ Flower frap for months! You know itâs a seasonal drink.â
âDidnât Dad say you couldnât have any more sweets?â you say and peer down at your iPad again. Youâre in the middle of brainstorming themes for your show. There are various words within bubbles, each connected with a line.
âIâll just get a small,â she explains. When you donât move, she walks around the bed to stand next to you. Her voice becomes softer, sadder. âYou said you would take me. Dad canât.â
âThat was before I got assigned this project. Itâs myââ
âSenior project that youâve been looking forward to since your freshman year, yeah, I got it,â she responds, reciting what youâve told her before.
You finally look at her once more. âIâll take you for the next seasonal drinks, okay? Theyâre probably better anyway.â
âBut I really want a Fallinâ Flower,â Seoah pouts.
âNext year,â you offer and return your attention to your homework.
âYnââ
âNext year,â you repeat firmly without looking up.
Seoah pauses in her begging. You think sheâs going to continue, but you hear the soft padding of her feet as she moves.
âOh, Seoah?â you call out, glancing up.
She pauses by your door and looks up with some hope in her eyes.
âDonât forget to shut the door all the way.â
âRight,â she mutters slowly, then leaves the room. You wait until you hear the door click close prior to getting back to work.
You sit on your bed the remainder of the day, only getting up to cook dinner for your father and sister. Your eyes feel strained and your body weak, but the sooner you pick a theme, the sooner you can get started.Â
Itâs days like these when your body is mentally and physically exhausted, that you miss your mom. You try not to think too much about her as it only makes the gloomy cloud above your head darker.Â
Is she happier? Surely, she is. She is living her dream as a traveling journalist. Sometimes you will see her adventures if you peep at her social media. Itâs self-torture to do so, but curiosity gets the best of you. You hope one day youâll have the willpower to block all her accounts.Â
At this point, youâre having the same conversation you have with yourself once a month. It never ends the way you want.
Inhaling deeply, you finish plating all the food before calling your family for dinner. While your father eats in his office, needing to continue his work, you and your sister eat in silence in the dining room.
Maybe one day things will change, but for now, youâll have to settle with this.
You are about to knock on the door a second time when no one answers it. You have allotted only an hour for this meeting, so the longer you wait outside, the more you grow impatient. You have set mini-deadlines throughout the semester to ensure you will complete this assignment in a timely manner. You just hope your recruitees aren't going to slow you down.
Suddenly, the door is yanked open. Jeonghan stands on the other side, hair a little damp and a few wet spots on his shirt.
âSorry about that,â he says hastily. âI thought I could shower quicker.â
âI told you eleven oâclock,â you scold. Jeonghan simply smiles.
âNever hurts to give people some wiggle room. Plus, arenât you the early one?â Jeonghan leans back to view something. He looks at you after a few seconds. âItâs only three minutes past.â
âEarly is on time,â you say as if that is an obvious life choice. Although youâre never really on time for classes, you reason that to be because the first fifteen minutes are a waste of time. This, on the other hand, is not. âInvite me in?â
Jeonghan moves aside and lets you enter. His apartment is tidy for the most part. It seems as if he had started to clean up but gave up toward the end.
âWhereâs Minghao?â you wonder when you saw you were the only one here. Heâs supposed to be here with Jeonghan, so you can all go over the advertising designs.
âHe called and said he hit some traffic. Have a seat anywhere; Iâm going to grab my laptop,â he instructs before jogging to another room. Shaking your head in disappointment, you glance around again.
Spotting his couch, you walk over and make yourself comfortable. You take out your iPad and open what you have so farâcolor ideas, font ideas, and a few mock-up fashion designs. It has been two weeks since you last saw Jeonghan. The majority of your tasks have already been assigned to people, but you still have to find a few more models.
âAlright, so, whatâs the theme?â Jeonghan asks when he comes back. He sits down next to you, causing you to bounce slightly from his weight.
You angle your screen, so he can see it easier. âI decided on the four elementsâwater, ice, air, and earth. The title right now is Pinwheel.â
âThis gives us multiple color options,â Jeonghan examines. âMaybe we could have five designs. One for each element and then one with all of them? That would give you a variety of exposure and make the audience feel theyâre not looking at the same promo material every time.â
You sit still as you ponder his suggestion. âYou donât think people will get confused seeing different designs?â
âWe can make it all tie in some way. You have your own logo, as I saw on your card. We can use that and the same fonts.â
âOkay,â you say slowly. âThat soundsââ
A knock on the door stops you.
âAh, that must be Minghao. Do you mind getting that? Iâm going to get my notepad, so I can try to sketch some layouts.â
You nod, setting your iPad down next to his laptop, then walking to the entrance.
âYouâre late,â you groan while you pull open the door.
âOh? Am I?â the person says with a little playful smile on his lips.
Although youâve never met Minghao, you have seen pictures of him on his Instagram. You expected to see a head of blue hair, but you are greeted with black. Instead of a narrow face, his is slightly wider. He wears an oversized white shirt, jeans, and a colorful necklace. He looks like every other college student. Sure, heâs more handsome than the average, but not by much. Behind him are two women and one man.
âCan I help you?â you exhale a disheartened sigh when you conclude it isnât Minghao. Meaning, heâs even later than you wished for.
The guy chuckles. âI doubt it, but Jeonghan can. Is he here?â
His voice is slightly deep. You may have found him soothing to listen to if it wasn't for his irksome words.
âHeâs busy right now. You can come back in an hour, though,â you instruct and start to close the door. You donât need any distractions.
The man sticks his foot out to stop you, causing you to exhale annoyed when you canât get rid of him. You open the door slightly again.
âJust tell him Iâm here,â he says, his teasing tone not so visible anymore but still light enough to not sound too rude.
âAnd who are you?â you question apathetically.
âJesus,â someone hisses behind him before shouting, âJeonghan, come here!â
Your eyes gaze past the man to see a woman with short-length dark hair. She eyes you haughtily, hand on the manâs forearm as if she were to push him away. Though she never does. She takes in your attire, and you once again get a look of judgment at your choice of dress. Your white dress paired with a same-colored, opened button down and beaded chain around your hips is apparently not her style.
âWhatâs going on?â Jeonghan asks behind you. Reluctantly, you move aside so he can see. âOh, Seungcheol! Right. One second. Come on in. Iâll get those papers for you.â
âActually, do they need to come in? Theyâre not staying long,â you say quickly before any of them can move.
âRelax, princess, heâs just being friendly. You know, like when someone is kind, thoughtful, and considerate?â the girl questions as if youâre dumb and makes her way inside despite you standing close to the door. It forces you to move over.Â
Her friends follow along. Three of them stand in the living room, while the second guy sits at the kitchen bar before pulling out his phone. You watch them with a fire inside your chest. Not only are Jeonghan and Minghao late, you now have to deal with this obstacle.
Just as youâre shutting the door, you see a glimpse of blue down the hall. Finally.
âYouâre late,â you repeat, but to the correct person this time.
âI know, Iâm sorry! Oh, are they helping too?â Minghao says, pausing at the entry when he sees the group of people inside.
âNo. Get in,â you huff and point a finger in the apartment. Minghao enters without a fight.
âHao!â the second girl exclaims with a smile.
Great. Do they all know each other?
âHi, Hana,â Minghao greets with a gentle grin.
âWhat are you doing here?â Hana wonders.
âIâm helping Yn with her project,â he answers and gestures to you while you shut the door.
Hana looks your way, and you can see the distaste in her expression; however, she doesnât say anything.
Jeonghan walks out of his room with a folder in his hand. âI hope this is what you need,â he tells the first manâSeungcheol, you presume.
Seungcheol smiles and takes it from him. He flips open the folder, doing a quick glance through the papers inside.
âLooks great,â he says. âThanks for getting these for me.â
âOf course,â Jeonghan replies.
âHannie, do you want to come to Shining Diamond with us this weekend?â the first girl asks, tilting her head in a way that appears as if sheâs begging for a yes.
âAh, this weekend?â he hesitates. âI have a test on Monday I was going to study for.â
âA few hours wonât hurt you,â she replies.
âAlright, Hajun, but only for an hour or so,â Jeonghan says with a not-so-stern voice.
âGreat! Minghao, do you want to come, too?â Hajun asks.
Minghao shrugs. âIâve got nothing else, so sure.â
Hajun grins widely. Her eyes go past Minghao to see you standing in the corner, your arms crossed and eyes staring daggers at everyone.
She doesnât say anything, but her look tells you you arenât invited. As if you are silently begging to join. The thought makes you scoff quietly.
âCool. You all scheduled your weekends,â you start and walk back to the couch. You turn briefly to Seungcheol, who is eyeing you already. âAnd you got your things. Can we please continue?â
Your gaze shifts to Jeonghan at your question. He offers you an apologetic look before nodding.
âIâll see you all this weekend. You can text me the time,â he says while walking to the door.
âWe can decide that now,â Hana suggests.
âOr over text like Jeonghan said,â you interject. She narrows her eyes at you.
âBe patient. Itâll only take a few minutes,â she replies.
A few minutes, my ass.
âIâd rather you use those minutes to walk out the door.â You give her a faux smile.
âHave some respect,â Hajun scolds.
You laugh though you donât find any of this humorous. âWhat a hypocrite. How about you respect peopleâs times?â
âI did tell Yn Iâd help her,â Jeonghan cuts in sheepishly and opens the door to hint at them to leave. âIâll text you all later, or you guys can come back in a bit.â
Seungcheolâs gaze lingers on yours as he walks toward the door. Your eyes catch on his as he makes his way into your line of sight. His stare has an unsettling feeling form in your stomach, and you contemplate asking what his problem is. Before you can, he turns to Jeonghan.
âThanks again,â he says as he lifts the folder.
âNo problem. Talk to you later,â Jeonghan replies.
All his friends have filed out except for the one male who hasnât said a word. He glances at you. You expect to receive another jab about who knows what. Instead, he gestures at your body.
âNice chains,â he compliments with a smile.
Your eyes widen slightly as you glance down briefly at your outfit. That was certainly unexpected. âUh, thanks.â
âCome on, Vernon!â Hana yells from the doorway. Vernon gives you a thumbs up, which is uncanny given the situation, then follows his friends out the door.
Once they leave, you narrow your gaze at Jeonghan and Minghao. Theyâre quick to apologize again and start asking questions about your project before you can lecture them. Lucky for them, your hour is almost up, so there isn't enough time to do that anyway.
Weeks go by with you working nonstop on your project. Annoyingly, you also realize that the majority of the people you recruited to help all know each other. It usually isnât something to be irritated by, but each time they run into each other, they usually end up making small talk that you have to break up. They can do that on their time, not yours. Even more frustrating is that this so-called Seungcheol and his groupies know them all as well. Their reactions to seeing you are always the sameâones of displeasure. Though the feeling is mutual.
You learn they are all business majors, except for Vernon. Well, he was a business major, but he plans to switch to something else. You canât blame him. If all the business majors act revolting, you would leave that department as well.
Seungcheol⌠He isnât as bad.Â
You have only ever hung out with him by himself for less than five minutes. Those conversations spur when youâre both left alone after one of your âmutual friends,â because none of these people are your actual friends, abandon you both. The conversations are awkward and never hold any weight. He doesnât throw snide remarks at you, but his presence still makes you uneasy with the possibility. Youâre normally the first to leave because of that. Maybe if he didnât have those obnoxious friends, you could tolerate him more. You canât help but associate him with them though. You simply want to get away from them, even if that includes him. Not that you are craving his presence anyway. You barely know him and arenât interested in changing that.
âThose are looking awesome so far!â Dae exclaims when she peers over your shoulder to see your sketches.
You smile at her and set your iPad down on the table. The weather outside is perfect, given the cool breezes in the heat. It eases your mind, and you feel more creative being in a new environment.
âThanks, how are yours coming along?â you question and wait for her to angle her own iPad to you. On the screen are various designs, each with a hint of purple or blue.
âThose are neat,â you compliment.
âYeah?â she says and beams at you. âWhat about this one? I think the shoulder looks a little weird.â
You reach over, using two fingers to zoom in on the screen to examine it.
âMaybe just lower this,â you gesture on the screen, careful as to not move the screen on accident. âYou could take this part out too and make it asymmetrical.â
Dae hums, lips pursed in thought. âIâll try it. I guess I wonât really know until itâs on someone.â
You nod in agreement before focusing on your designs again. After a while, Dae excuses herself from your homework session. She had planned to meet with one of her helpers. You bid her a quick goodbye.
Ten minutes pass when you see someone standing in front of your table, blocking your sunlight. Your eyes rise to see who it is.
âHi,â Seungcheol greets.
You straighten your posture upon seeing him. He wears a basic navy suit that fits him well. To your surprise, it actually looks decent on him. Your eyes dart around him to see if any of his friends came.
âJust me this time,â he answers the question in your head.
âWhat is it you need?â you ask blankly.
âMust I need something?â he retorts.
You suppress the eye roll you want to give him. âWell, Iâm sure you didnât come here to tell me about your day.â
âI can if you want,â he responds, then to your utter dread, he sits down across from you. From the position he is sitting at, the breeze is blowing his hair forward and into his face. He raises a hand to push it back, but itâs no use.
âYou can spare me. Tell me what you want and go,â you instruct. This is the first time he has approached youâand alone, for that matter. You donât want to make it a regular thing.
âAlways straight to the point,â he chuckles.
âI just donât like my time being wasted,â you explain.
âSo, Iâm wasting your time now?â His eyebrow quirks up.
âShould I spell it out for you?â you scoff. It should be obvious that you donât feel like talking to him.
âYou can try, but do you know how to spell it?â he stares at you through the hair on his face. Even though you canât see him clearly, you can tell he has a challenging gleam in his eyes.
âAt this point, I think you just came to bother me,â you sulk.
He smirks at you. âI didnât, but it is a little fun to see your feathers ruffled.â
âTheyâre perfectly content being unruffled.â
Seungcheol chuckles at your response. He pushes his hair back, but this time he rests his hand against his head, keeping his hair in place. His elbow is propped on the table while his other arm lays flat on the surface.Â
All the times you have seen him, his hair has covered part of his forehead. Now, itâs all exposed, and you feel you can see him. Maybe itâs because heâs donning a suit for once, but he looks almost⌠handsome like thisâdressed formally with a small glint in his eyes and his lips spread in a gentle smile.
âWhereâs the fun in that?â he replies. âI think you need to have more fun.â
Well, he was handsome until he opened his mouth.
âI donât need a stranger telling me how to live my life,â you say.
âA stranger? I would think weâre at least acquaintances,â he frowns.
âYou only see me because your friends are helping me. Speaking of, is that why youâre here? Does it have anything to do with one of them?â
Seungcheol bites his bottom lip, and you canât stop your eyes from lowering to his mouth.
âMaybe,â he answers slowly. Your eyes snap back to his when he speaks. He gives you a knowing smile that has you shifting in your seat. You had only looked at his lips because he brought attention to them. Nothing more.
âAre we playing twenty questions?â you groan, finally unleashing the eye roll you have been trying not to do.
âWe can,â Seungcheol says with a shrug. âYou asked three alreadyâmore if you start from the time I sat down.â
Exhaling a deep breath, you put your forehead on the hand thatâs propped on the table. The conversation is slowly draining your energy. The need to be alone becomes stronger with each second.
âSeungcheol,â you warn. You are not about to play a guessing game with this man. âPlease.â
âOh, so that word is in your vocabulary.â
âYes. Would you like me to use it in a sentence?â you question, pitch raised as if youâre talking to a toddler. You lift your head to glare at him.
âSure,â he smirks and leans forward. He still holds his hair back and this time, you can really see the way he is goading you.
âPlease fuck off,â you grin widely. Your head tilts to the side as you push your arms together to act overly cute.
âPlease make me,â he counters. The smirk he wears is still plastered on his lips.
âIf we werenât in public, I would,â you say, voice returning to normal as you relax your bodyâthe cute act over.
âOh? How?â he chuckles. From the way he looks at you, you know his mind has gone elsewhere.
You push at the arm that is stretched across the table. âBecause I would rather not get caught for murder, you pervert.â
Seungcheol laughs and sits back, letting his hair fall back into his eyes. Itâs the first time you notice he has dimples. Your first impression is that they are cute, but you quickly recall who they belonged to and shove that thought from your mind.
âSeokmin wanted to let you know he lost your card,â he finally discloses. âAsked if you could give him another.â
âIf he lost a simple card, is he really reliable?â you sigh as you grab another from your purse.
âThe good news is those stage lights are so big, he wonât be able to lose those,â he says, taking the card from your hand.
âThankfully,â you mutter. âI hope youâre better than Seokmin at not losing things.â
âIâll get this to him, donât worry,â he replies and puts the card in his suit jacket. You want to ask why he is wearing that, but that will mean you will prolong this conversation. Fortunately for you, he starts to stand up before you succumb to the temptation.
âThanks for the talk,â he says as if you had a choice. âIâll see you around.â
You would have doubted that, but you know that wonât be true.
The second time Seungcheol approaches you by himself is a few days later when he catches you exiting a building he is approaching.
âDonât tell me someone else lost my card as well,â you say after he calls your name. You readjust your bag on your shoulder as you wait for his response.
âAbout that,â he starts sheepishly.
You put your weight on one hip and cross your arms, and set your mouth in a straight line. You wait for him to tell you who is the perpetrator.
âI may have left your card in my suit jacket when I washed it.â
Well, that explains why you havenât received a message from Seokmin yet.
âSeriously, Seungcheol?â you exasperate.
âI didnât do it on purpose!â he says, lips pouting and eyebrows angled.
Shaking your head, you retrieve another card. You make a mental note to restock later as you are running out.
Seungcheol reaches out to grab it from you, but you quickly pull back.
âPut this in your bag,â you instruct.Â
You slowly give him the card and watch as he slings his bag around to his front. He makes a show of unzipping one of the front pockets and sliding it inside.
âDone,â he says, acting like he should be rewarded for doing as he was told.
âGood. Is that all?â you wonder. Youâve just finished your last class of the day, and all you want to do is climb into bed.
âYes.â
Seeing no need to continue the conversation, you start walking in the direction of the parking lot.
âGreat. Bye, Seungcheol,â you say over your shoulder.
âHey, wait,â he says quickly, walking briskly to be by your side. âWeâre going in the same direction.â
You peer up at him momentarily. âThat doesnât mean we have to walk together.â
âYou said before weâre strangers. This would help us not be that anymore,â he shrugs casually.
âI never said I wanted that,â you reply flatly.
âIt might benefit us since weâll have to see each other a lot.â
âIs that so?â you sigh sadly.
Seungcheol smiles at you before shoving his hands in his pockets. âYou did ask my friends to help you.â
âWell, if I knew you were a package deal, I wouldnât have.â
âCome on. Iâm not that bad.â
Sighing, you slow your steps to look at him better. He stops next to you, awaiting your response. His gaze is hopeful, but youâre not sure why.
âIâll agree if you leave me alone,â you finally say.
Seungcheolâs lips dip in a frown. âIâll get you to admit it one day.â
He starts to walk again before you can reply. Now is your chance to let him get a few feet from you. You have the opportunity to finally end this conversation youâve been dreading. Though, for some strange reason, your feet quickly move on their own accord.
Seungcheolâs steps are small, and you catch up with him easily. Neither of you says a word, but you can see a hint of a smile on his lips.
Instead of parting ways once you reach the parking lot, he follows you to your car. Something about it being dangerous for you to walk to it alone, even though itâs light out.
âYn?â he says to catch your attention when you open your door. You turn and give a small âhm?â in response.
âMy friends and I plan to go to this poetry lounge in two weeks. Would you want to come?â he asks. You arenât sure why he appears to be anxious.
The shock you feel must be evident on your face because Seungcheolâs apprehensive expression relaxes into a gentle smile.
âBusiness friends or our âmutual onesâ?â The idea doesn't sound so bad if you are hanging out with the people who are helping you. Although you have your issues with them, they arenât that bad to be around if youâre being honest.
âBusiness.â
Thatâs not what you want to hear.
âDo your friends know youâre asking me this?â
Seungcheol shakes his head. âNo, but I donât need their permission. What do you say?â
You canât recall being invited to a night out with someone other than Dae. If you were to go out without Dae, it would be with your family or for a class assignment. To be invited to a place by Seungcheol, out of all people, catches you off guard.
Despite having an opportunity for a different change of pace, you answer, âNo.â
âNo?â he asks, perplexed.
âYour friends donât like me, Seungcheol,â you explain matter-of-factly through a sigh, leaning against your open door.
âThey just like to tease you. Iâll talk to them before,â he explains.Â
Tease is a funny way to describe it, you think.
âI donât need you fighting my battles,â you answer, referring to the latter part of his reply.
âStill. I want you to enjoy yourself. Youâve probably been glued to that project of yours. Step away for a bit,â he reasons.
He isnât wrong. Your focus has solely been on the project. Of course, you have other classes, but you arenât putting as much effort into them as you are this one.
âIâll pick you up and pay for any expenses,â he offers. The more he talks, the more taken aback you are. You figured heâd drop the offer once you rejected him. From every interaction youâve had with these âfriends,â it never ends well. You doubt this will be any different. Regardless, something in you feels a little⌠honored he is so adamant about getting you to come.
Thus, hesitantly, âFine.â
Seungcheolâs face breaks out in a grin. âOkay. I can give you my number, so you can text me your address.â
He starts to pull out his phone, but you stop him.
âNo need,â you say. At Seungcheolâs confused expression, you continued with a faint smile, âYou have my card.â
His mouth opens briefly in realization before the corners are pulled up.
âOne step ahead, I see,â he teases, pulling it out to inspect it as if confirming your number is there. You suppose he may think youâre lying to get out of going.
âIâll text you then,â he concludes and places the card back.
âAlright,â you say, shifting your weight. You arenât sure if he wants to say anything else. Why are you giving him the time to? You have already given him enough of it.
Sensing your readiness to leave, he waves as he slowly takes steps backward. âDrive safely, Yn.â
âYou too, Seungcheol.â
You climb into your carâs seat, turn on the engine, and watch as he makes his way through the maze of cars until he is out of sight.
That Friday comes sooner than you wouldâve liked.
Throughout the times you had met with your âfriends,â you had bumped into Seungcheol one-third of the time. Sometimes, you were left alone with him again. Each interaction you had with him became easier the more you talked to him.Â
Dare you to admit; his presence wasnât actually teeth-gritting anymore? At least when he was alone, you didnât have to deal with his business friends. Despite him not usually laughing at their jokes, he never really stepped in to stop them teasing you at first. Maybe only a few times when he felt things got too heated. He wasnât your best friend, but part of you did hope he wouldâve said something.Â
Each time he didnât, you felt your disappointment rise. He apologized on their behalf constantly, but his apology meant nothing when they kept insulting you. However, lately, he has been stepping in sooner. Although you didnât want him fighting your battles initially, some things you couldnât do alone. One thing you and his business friends had in common was that no one really knew where the sudden change of attitude came from. For once, you didnât complain, though.
Youâre tempted to cancel this outing, but talking to Seungcheol a few days ago made you realize he was a little more excited than he was letting on. The reason is unknown to youâmaybe he really likes poetry loungesâbut youâd feel slightly guilty if you ditch last minute.
Itâs not like you havenât been out on a Friday night with people, yet your heart is beating rapidly in your chest. You have changed about six times, exchanging your accessories with each outfit. Normally, you would dress up more, but these arenât your friends youâre about to hang out with. They are Seungcheolâsâbusiness majors who think skirts more than two inches above the knees mean youâre a slut. Though, you canât figure out why that matters. You never dress with the thoughts of others. If you want to wear something that day, even if itâs âover-the-topâ for some, you wear it. So, why are you in such a fashion dilemma now?
In the end, you settle for a simple, spaghetti-strapped red dress that is slightly bunched on the sides with strings that are tied in bows. You pair it with a small, heart-shaped purse and white heels. There isnât any bling in your outfit, which is unusual for you. The accessories you wear are minimal and small. They are a matching cherry set you were gifted by your mother on your 12th birthday. Although itâs been years since you received them, theyâre still wearable and delicate enough not to call much attentionâunlike some of your other accessories.Â
You reach for a white fur jacket only to stop when your fingers graze it. Your eyes travel to yourself in the mirror as you debate on wearing it. The jacket will be too much, you conclude.
The buzzing of your phone catches your attention. Itâs Seungcheol telling you heâs five minutes away. After stuffing your phone in your purse, you quickly apply red lipstick and toss it in your purse for later touch-ups.
When your phone buzzes again, you hurry to your front door. Your family is home, and you donât want Seungcheol to meet them. Life at home isnât ideal, and the only person who has a hint of what is going on is Dae. You doubt Seungcheol will find that out from one quick meeting, but you donât want to risk it.
You throw your door open, ready to meet him at his car. Instead, he stands in front of you with a hand raised. He takes a step back in surprise. His eyes glide down your body quickly, but youâre too concerned about your family coming to notice.
âOh, hey,â he greets. âI was just about to knock.â
Before any of your family can intervene, you close the door and start your way down the porch steps. Seungcheol follows you.
âYou didnât have to. I can make my way to your car by myself,â you answer. Although youâve never been in his car before, youâve seen it around. Plus, itâs the only unknown vehicle near your home.
You stand next to the passenger door and wait for him to unlock it, arms wrapped around your body when the chilly weather hits you.
âYou sure you donât want a jacket?â he asks when he notices you didnât bring one.
âIt didnât go with my outfit,â you explain. Itâs a lie. The coat did go with your fit, but you didnât feel like disclosing the fashion crisis you had gone through.
Seungcheol chuckles. âSo, youâre going to freeze instead?â
âItâs not that cold,â you lie again.
âItâll get colder later, though,â he explains and comes closer to you. You step aside when he is a few inches from you. You press your arms tighter around you, eyes averting from his because of his close proximity. The small distance has you wanting to squirm away, but your feet canât move. He peers at you with a small smile while he reaches behind you.
âMy lady,â he murmurs when he pulls the door open and gestures for you to get inside.
âHow chivalrous,â you reply after you force your nervousness away. You carefully slide inside his car, situating yourself comfortably in the seat.
Seungcheol waits to ensure you have all your limbs inside before shutting the door. As he walks around to the other side, your eyes scan his car. The seats are leather, and the interior has higher tech than you thought it would. It is a nice carânot overly luxurious, but enough to show it isnât cheap. It makes you wonder how much it costs.
âYou warm enough?â Seungcheol questions after he gets in and buckles.
âYeah,â you reply quietly, hands resting awkwardly in your lap. The heat from the vents aids in your goosebumps disappearing.
Your mind is already wondering what to expect tonight. You know his friends arenât fond of you. At least most of them. That guy, Vernon, seems nice enough. He is the quiet one in the group; however, you did notice he has his own quirks that make him unique. You foresee yourself hanging out with him most tonight. But even then, you donât feel too great about going.
The longer you sit in Seungcheolâs car, the more you regret agreeing to this.
He stares at you for a moment; brows knitted together slightly. You feel uncanny acting so meek, and Seungcheol can't help but notice.
Silence consumes the small area for a few seconds until Seungcheol says, âSeatbelt.â
You look at him confused, then realize he is talking to you. Of course he is, who else?
âRight,â you mumble, quickly pulling the belt over your body.
âYou donât have to come, you know?â he says with one hand on the steering wheel while the other is on the gear stick.
You sigh and gesture to the road ahead. âLetâs just get going. Iâve got stuff to do after.â
It isnât completely a lie. You still have to work on bringing your designs to life for the show, but it isnât like you are behind schedule that you need to do that tonight. You just know you might actually back out if you ponder on leaving more.
Seungcheol bites his bottom lip, averting his focus to the road. He doesnât reply and obliges to your request by shifting the car into drive.
During the ride, your gaze drifts to Seungcheol. He is relaxed in his seat. One arm stretches to hold the wheel while his other rests on his thigh. One which is clad in a pair of light-washed jeans with a black belt between the jean loops. He wears a white shirt tucked in and a black jacket.
You peer forward slightly to read what his shirt says. Propriety of Balenciaga? The Balenciaga? You donât think heâs wealthy enough to afford one of those shirts. Perhaps it was a gift or a knock-off brand? Maybe he thrifted it⌠Though, Seungcheol doesnât seem like the thrifting type.
âDo you need this?â he asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. Heâs holding his jacket open to show you what he means. You mustâve been staring too much.
âNo, Iâm okay,â you say and turn your attention away quickly. âI just didnât realize you wore glasses.â
Although the comment is true, you need something to say before he questions why you truly are staring at him. You had noticed the spectacles earlier but didnât feel like mentioning them.
Seungcheol laughs lightly, âActually, I donât. I just thought Iâd try to improve my fashion. What do you say, did it work?â
He glances at you after stopping at a traffic light; his mouth quirks up in a teasing smile. You turn toward him and scan his face quickly. They do look good on him, but you arenât going to tell him that.
âThey certainly did something, but whether that effect is good or bad is a secret,â you reply, looking away again.
âIâll take that as you not wanting to admit they look nice on me,â Seungcheol says and continues driving at the green light.
âI think theyâd look better on someone else,â you answer. Though, you donât believe what you said. Something about the glasses on him has you wanting to stare at him more. They fit his face well and make him appear more attractive. You donât want to sit on that thought for much longer.
âIs that so? Here,â he says, pulling them off his face. The glasses come into your view, and you stare at him, puzzled.Â
When you donât take them, he adds, âThey wonât bite.â
You roll your eyes at his comment and finally grab them from his grasp. You pull down his sun visor to look at yourself. After sliding on the spectacles, you turn your head from side to side to see the different angles.
âI think I was right. They do look better on someone else,â you tease and face him as you shut the visor. Seungcheol turns to you at your reply.
His eyes wander across your face, a hint of a smile appearing on his lips.
âMaybe Iâll have to agree with you this one time,â he says. His stare lingers on yours so much that it has you shifting in your seat. When you avert your gaze, your eyes widen.
âCheol!â you shout as he was about to rear-end another car. Instinctively, he shoots an arm out across your chest that has your back pressing firmly against the seat. The sudden act causes you to reach up and grab onto his arm tightly.
The car screeches as it comes to a sudden halt. Luckily in time to not hit the other car.
You both sit still, breathing intensified at the near accident. After a few seconds, Seungcheol retracts his arm. Itâs then you realize youâre still holding onto him. Your eyes dart to his forearm and frown when you see small crescent shapes indented in his skin.
âSorry,â you say sheepishly.
Seungcheolâs focus is ahead of him but glances at you in confusion at your apology. âWhat?â
You quickly gesture to his forearm. When he sees the marks, he rubs a hand over them absentmindedly. âItâs fine. Are you okay?â
âYeah, Iâm fine. Are you?â you reply, heart rate slowing down to normal.
âIâm alright. Sorry. I guess I shouldnât make you play dress up in the car.â
âNo, it was my fault.â
Seungcheol eases on the gas pedal when the light turns green, keeping a safe distance from the car in front. He remains quiet for a while to ensure you are both safe.
âAre you sure youâre okay? First, you apologize, and now something is your fault?â he jokes.
You donât remember what you said a few minutes ago, so it takes a while for you to comprehend what he is saying. âShut up,â is all you can respond with in the end.
Seungcheol laughs but doesnât pester you about it any longer.
âOh, you can take these back,â you say and tug off the reason for almost hitting another car.
âThanks,â he mumbles as he slides the glasses back on his face.
You nestle yourself back in the seat again and glance out the window. As the buildings pass, it dawns on you that youâve never called him Cheol. The thought of using a nickname for him has your body tingle with an unknown feeling. Itâs strange. You arenât the first to call him that, but you arenât that close to him to start using nicknames. Annoyingly, you spend the remainder of the car ride fretting about how he felt toward you shortening his name.Â
Did he even notice? If he did, did he like it? Had you crossed a line?
When he parks, you become acutely aware of everyoneâs attire. Many wear jeans or tights with a plain shirt and jacket. A few have on skirts or dresses, but they are more t-shirt dresses or plain skater skirts, if anything. Plus, they are accompanied by tights because of the weather. No one has as much skin showing as you do.
The sinking feeling of not belonging consumes you. You canât remember the last time you felt this way, and that alone has you questioning yourself even more.
âIâm too dressed for this, arenât I?â you think out loud.
Seungcheol turns off the car, eyes raking your body again. Though this time, youâre aware of it. You tug down the bottom of your dress at his stare. Itâs not like itâs predatory, but it still has your nerves skyrocketing.
âSince when did you care about what others thought of your outfit?â he wonders. The question has you sighing, momentarily closing your eyes as you remind yourself you dress for you, not for othersâ approval.
âRight,â you swallow harshly and sling your purse over your shoulderâmentally throwing away the negative thoughts too. âLetâs just go.â
With that, you open his car door and step out.
âYn waitââ you hear Seungcheol call out right as you shut the door.
Your hair is immediately pushed from your face as the wind blows past. It makes your body shiver, and for a split second, you wish you took up Seungcheolâs offer to grab a jacket when you were at your house.
Seungcheolâs car beeps as it locks before he stands in front of you. His broad body blocks the wind, and you feel your own ease from feeling a tad warmer.
âIâm sorry if that came off rude,â he apologizes softly. âI think you look great.â
You look at him, face void of emotion. You donât believe him, but you donât want to argue. At least not standing in this weather.Â
âOkay,â you reply. âWe need to go meet your friends.â
You take a step forward, thinking it will get him to start walking toward the building, but he doesnât budge. You only decrease the distance between you two.
âI mean it,â he whispers.
Goosebumps are forming on your exposed skin the longer you stay out. You blame the cold weather for them, but something in your chest tightens at the way Seungcheol is speaking to you.
âI think red is your color,â he pauses. âYou should wear it more, Cherry.â
Your head tilts at his last word. âCherry?â
The corner of his mouth raises at hearing it from your lips. Slowly, he brings a hand to your face. You stand still as you stare at him with wide eyes. His hand brushes past your cheek before he grazes his fingertips along your ear.Â
âIt suits you,â he murmurs, eyes moving away from yours.Â
You follow his gaze and realize he has been looking at your cherry-charmed earrings. His eyes then flicker to the matching cherry-charmed necklace resting below your bare collarbones. Youâre not sure if he means the color suits you or if the nickname he just made suits you. Either way, youâre surprised at his words.
Suddenly, the weather doesn't feel as chilly anymore. Your body heats quickly at his comment, or maybe itâs from how close he is to you. Nevertheless, you need to distract yourself from this warm, odd feeling bubbling in your chest.
You clear your throat and step back. His hand lowers steadily.
âIâll think about it,â you reply more confidently and clearly.
Seungcheol takes the hint and moves aside, hands stuffed in his jeans pockets. He nods his head in the direction of the building, and you start walking toward it. Your pace is slightly faster than his, but you donât mind not walking next to him. If anything, you need distance from him anyway.
The moment you open the door to the lounge, the heat from inside greets you in full force. You step inside and are welcomed by a worker. He is young, maybe a few years younger than you. He gives you a friendly smile.
âHi, are you wanting to be seated, or are you with a group already?â
âWith a group,â you reply. The worker nods.
âDo you need help locating them?â
You shake your head as the jingle of the door opening sounds behind you. Seungcheol stops behind you. His hand comes to hover over your lower back, not really touching you, but close enough to feel the heat radiate from his hand onto your skin. It has you shuffling away.
âTheyâre over there,â he says. You peer up to see where he is gesturing. Fair enough, you see his friends at a table toward the back of the building. There are five of them, all smiling at each other. You can spot a few familiar facesâone of them being Vernon. You feel a little at ease knowing he made it here.
âThanks,â you murmur to the worker before making your way to the table. The closer you get to the table, the slower your steps become. Youâre used to keeping your chin high in situations you arenât completely comfortable in. The whole âfake it until you make itâ is on repeat in your head.
Yet the saying is not encouraging you much right now.
âYouâre not mad at me, are you?â Seungcheol asks when he catches up to you. You donât realize you had stopped a few feet from the table.
âNo,â you say. You arenât mad at him; you just need some space from him for now. You donât like how you arenât in control of your emotions when youâre around him. âIâm going to freshen up in the bathroom.â
Seungcheol eyes you for a second before nodding. You make your way to the bathroom, but right before you enter, you can hear the welcoming echoes coming from his table of friends. All of them sound cheerful and excited to see him. You donât expect any of them to look forward to your presence, yet you feel a little disappointed when no one brings up your nameâin a positive way.
After using the restroom and washing your hands, you stand in front of the mirror with your hands lingering under the warm water. Your eyes roam your face and body, taking in your appearance. Compared to your normal fashion, you really did dress down. You sigh when you realize youâre circling back to the same issue.
You retract your hands from the faucet and grab a few towels to dry them.
It doesnât matter if youâre overly dressed. You usually are and donât care. You look great. You should feel confident in your fit.Â
You gently tug the dress down before turning in front of the mirror.
You look fine. You look nice.
As you reapply your lipstick, you keep repeating compliments and reassuring phrases in your head.Â
Theyâre going to look at you funny. You are going to ignore them.
âThatâs right,â you sigh to yourself as you toss the lipstick back into your purse.Â
Suddenly, your phone starts to vibrate. You pull it out to see Daeâs name appear across the top. You eagerly answer her call.
âHey babe,â Daeâs voice comes from the other line. âHowâs it going?â
âIâm ready to go home,â you say with a small huff.
âDamn, that horrible? Is he treating you badly?â Dae questions. You had told her about Seungcheolâs invitation when you got home that day. She was shocked, but ultimately supportive of you going.
You shake your head despite her not being able to see you. âNo, heâs been fine. I just,â you pause. Although you have your ups and downs with Dae, she has stayed with you when no one else has. You donât disclose your troubles often, wanting people to not see that side of you, but youâre feeling too low that you canât stop the confession from coming out.
âIâm way overdressed for this place. Everyoneâs in jeans or tights. I donât belong here,â you say.
Dae sighs sadly. âJeans are boring. I think I only own a pair,â she answers, trying to make you smile. âJust remember, if you were to die right now, would you want your last outfit to be something boring?â
âNo,â you answer slowly.
âExactly. These are people who are used to looking plain. Theyâre probably jealous youâre outdressing them. Donât let them get to you, Yn. Iâm sure you look beautiful.â
Your shoulders ease at her words. âThanks, Dae.â
âNo need. If they had the talent to dress themselves better, they would.â
You let her words sink in, but the reassurance doesnât last long.
âI shouldnât have come,â you say, beginning to pace the small area in the bathroom.
âItâs good for you to be around people from outside our department. Itâll make you more open-minded,â she encourages. âPlus, Seungcheol isnât as bad as he seemed, huh?â
There is a teasing tone to her voice that you donât like.
âOne outing with him doesnât mean heâs my friend,â you argue.
Dae giggles. âNo, but itâs a start. Do you like him?â
âNo!â you answer quickly.
âI was just asking in general. Not âlikeâ as in crushing on him,â she explains nonchalantly, but you can hear her smile.
âHeâs,â you pause as you try to think of a word to describe him, âheâs been alright.â
âWell, I better let you get back to him then. I just wanted to check in,â Dae answers.
âThanks. I appreciate it,â you say.
âRemember, you donât need their approval. You never have, and you never will. People want the confidence you have.â
âIâm not feeling too confident right now,â you mumble.
âThatâs because youâre overthinking. Chin up, okay?â
Sighing, you reply. âOkay.â
âGood. Talk to you later!â
âYeah,â you say before hanging up.
Taking one last look at yourself, you roll your shoulders back and exit the bathroom.
Seungcheol is sitting in the middle of Hajun and someone you donât know. His eyes lift to meet yours when he hears the sound of your heels.
âHey, you okay?â he asks.Â
Nodding, your eyes roam for a spot to sit.
âYou knew you were just going to a poetry lounge, right? Not the runway,â Hajun comments with a small scoff.
Your eyes move to look at her, and you quirk an eyebrow. She wears leggings with a graphic tee. Her discarded jacket is slung over the back of her chair. âAre you sure you know that, as well? Or did you think you were just going back to your bed?â
âThis is how normal people dress,â she replies.
âRelax, Hajun,â a voice you donât know sounds. You direct your attention to them.Â
The guy has black hair that is parted on the side to expose his forehead. His eyes are narrow, and even though he has a soft appearance now, youâre sure his gaze can be fierce when needed.Â
âPeople donât need to dress up for special occasions,â he says.
Youâre taken aback by his comment. Seungcheolâs friends have always questioned your wardrobe, so for this new âfriendâ to not agree with Hajun is surprising.Â
âNo, they donât, but you gottaâ admit sheâs a little overdone huh, Soonyoung?â Hajun replies.
âHajun,â Seungcheol interjects, giving her a pointed look.
âI understand not everyone knows how to dress. Itâs okay, though. I can offer my services if you need some help,â you comment, half tempted to reach in your bag to get a business card. Although you arenât on campus, you never know when youâll run into someone who will make a good connection, so you keep them with you wherever you go.
âServices?â Hajun laughs and rests her crossed arms on the table. âAnd what âservicesâ are you offering? Because from the looks of it, I can tell exactly what you offer. Sorry, Iâm not interested.â
Her eyes roam your body once more, indicating that the way you are dressed, means your services consist of paying to be with people in bed.
âI donât think those services would help you anyway. Your rotting attitude is enough to repel anyone. Though I guess some people are willing to lower their standards when theyâre desperate,â you counter.
âYouâre such aââ she starts.
âCan we talk?â Seungcheol asks Hajun quickly, but he doesnât give her the option to answer because he takes her hand and pulls her away from the group.
The table is silent for a few seconds before Soonyoung speaks up again.
âDonât pay any mind to her. Itâs nice to meet you. You must be Yn?â He smiles at you, slightly bowing at you.
âCorrect,â you say, trying to not show how irritated you feel.
âCome sit,â he offers, pulling up a chair so youâre sat between him and Vernon. You thank him before sitting in the chair. You sit your purse in your lap as conversations begin to spark again.
Their voices become background noise as your gaze drifts to Seungcheol and Hajun in the corner. They stand close to each other and are in a deep conversationâclearly about you. Seungcheol has his back to you, so you canât see his expression, but you can see Hajunâs. Her lips are in a frown, her expression not as sassy as before.Â
Though her pouting seems forced, her bottom lip a little too far stuck out. Soon enough, she rolls her eyes, an expression similar to how it was earlier. Her eyes then move from him to you over his shoulder. When she catches your gaze, she smiles and raises a challenging eyebrow. However, her gaze doesnât last long because Seungcheolâs hand comes up and guides her eyes back to him. Even though his hand isnât touching her completely, she leans into his touch. The act has you stilling.
âYn?â Vernon questions, tearing you from your thoughts. You donât realize youâre clutching your purse until your focus goes to Vernon. You ease your grip and raise an eyebrow.
âSoonyoung was asking what your major was,â Vernon explains.
âOh,â you say, glancing around the table. It appears the others are in their own conversation.
You look at the man to your left. He gives you a reassuring smile that tells you he is patient. âIâm studying fashion design. Are you in business, too?â
Soonyoung shakes his head with a laugh. âI could never. Iâm a dance major.â
âWow, that sounds nice,â you say. âArenât your career choices limited with that, though?â
âA little,â Soonyoung replies honestly. He doesnât seem offended by the question. Maybe he gets it a lot. âBut it makes me happy. I can always teach or maybe even become a dancer in a well-known group.â
You hum, understanding his words.
âIsnât fashion design limited, too?â Vernon asks.
âClothes are everywhere. I can do a lot with it.â
âBut not everyone will wear your clothes,â Hana says, having finally heard your discussion.
âThere will always be someone,â you argue, confident in your work. It may be a slow start, but you believe in your designs.
She laughs. âWho? Your mother?â
Your eyes narrow at the mention of your mom, and Hana is quick to notice the change in attitude. Instead of letting go of the topic, she continues.
âOoh, trouble at home? See? I knew the âGreat Ynâ isnât as perfect as she seems,â Hana says. What makes her think you are so âgreatâ is unknown to you, but you arenât surprised to guess people have made up a persona for you.Â
âStop, Hana,â Vernon says, but it has no effect.
âOh, so we were right?â Hajunâs voice comes from above. You glance up to see she and Seungcheol have returned. It appears their little chat did nothing to keep Hajun from being a bitch.
âSeems so,â Hana says with a smile. âCare to share with the class what kind of mommy issues you have?â
âNo wonder she dresses like that,â Doyun, another one of Seungcheolâs alleged friends, adds. âSheâs not getting attention at home. I guess Daddy isnât there either?â
âThatâs enough,â Seungcheol scolds them all.
Your eyes are darting from everyone at the table. Their stares are akin to shrink rays, making you feel tiny and minuscule. You know when you arenât welcomed, and thereâs no reason to stay listening to this. You want to snap back, end the conversation with your own last words, but nothing comes to mind.
In lieu, you push your chair back and stand up. Your hands twitch with the temptation to dump their food all over them, but you just want to get out as soon as possible.Â
You waste no time careening for the exit.Â
Seungcheol calls your name; you ignore it. The worker from before sees you, telling you goodbye, but you couldn't care less and push past the door before he can finish his sentence.
Your breath gets caught in your throat at the sudden breeze that slams into you. Instantly, your arms wrap around you once more. You glance around and see a bus stop down the street. You donât care that itâs the other way from Seungcheolâs car. You hurry to the station, not sure when the next bus will come.
The bus stop isnât deserted despite the cold weather. The area must be busy all the time since the sidewalks are littered with more people than you expect. All the seats at the stop are taken, yet you still shuffle under the shelter in hopes to get away from some of the breeze.
You are shaking, and your teeth are chattering. Itâs impossible to force your body to stop since you need to generate heat somehow. You probably look like a pathetic naked chihuahua in winter.
You take out your phone, open up a browser, and search for bus times. Thankfully, thereâs one coming in three minutes in the direction you need. The thought of taking the bus is not pleasurable. You hate the idea of your skin touching something so many others have touched. It feels unsanitary.
Accidentally leaning back against the wall while you silently groan has you jumping at the cold material touching your bare skin. Your jolt catches the attention of an older woman who is sitting near you.
âArenât you freezing, child?â she asks as she stares at your attireâor lack of.Â
âIâll be fine soon,â you say, not really in the mood for talking.
âWhere is your coat? Did you not know the weather was going to be cold?â she continues.
Utterly done with all the people-talk tonight, you hiss, âFocus on yourself. Iâll focus on me.â
She seems startled at your outburst. Her already crossed arms tighten as she turns away from you. Her muttered âbitchâ doesnât go unnoticed, but you donât say anything about it. Thereâs no point in arguing with a stranger.
The sound of the bus calls your attention, and you mentally thank the universe for the great timing. After people leave and all the new patrons enter, you finally take a step up the busâ steps. Before you can climb all the way, you hear your name being called. You look past the bus doors to see Seungcheol running toward you.
Just what you need.
You disregard him and step farther up the steps of the bus.
The bus driver looks expectantly at you, and it dawns on you that you need to provide payment before you can board fully.
âCard?â you wonder. The bus driver nods and gestures to a device to the right.
As you unzip your purse, you feel a hand grip your arm.
âWhere are you going?â Seungcheol asks, slightly breathless. His hair is disheveled from running, but he doesnât seem to care.
âHome, idiot,â you huff and pull your arm out of his grasp so you can retrieve your card.
âJust come with me. We can talk somewhere else,â he pleads, a hand stopping your movements again.
âIâm not going anywhere with you, Seungcheol,â you hiss. âNow, let go of me.â
He hesitates but slowly releases your arm. He doesnât leave, though. âIâll take you home. You donât need to take the bus. Come on.â
âGo with him or get on! We have places to be,â a passenger exclaims, clearly annoyed with your drama.
You raise your head to the person, narrowing your eyes in a glare that tells them to pipe down. It has no effect on them. They shoot a fierce look back.
âI know you donât want to take the bus,â Seungcheol comments quietly.
Heâs right. Not only do you not want to sit next to a lady whose arms are filled with shopping bagsâthe only available seatâyou really donât want to add time to your trip home.
Seungcheol reaches out again and carefully takes your hand in his. This time, you donât fight him as he guides you off the bus. Once youâre both off, the bus doors shut and begin its trip down the road.
You watch it silently, not knowing Seungcheol is discarding his jacket until you feel the warm material cover your shoulders. Your eyes snap back to him as if remembering who youâre with.
âIâm sorry they said all that stuff. I told them not to do that tonight,â he says remorsefully.
âOh, so youâll let them talk shit about me another day?â you chide and start walking away from him. Thankfully for Seungcheol, itâs in the direction of his car.
âNo, thatâs not what I meant,â he replies as he hurries to catch up, which doesnât take much effort as you arenât walking too fast due to your cold, stiff legs.
âDonât worry. Iâm sure theyâll do that whenever they want to. They wouldnât be the first,â you scoff.
âIt doesnât make it right regardless,â he says. You halt in your steps, causing Seungcheol to stop and turn to look at you.
âI talk shit about people behind their backs, too. Does that make me a bad person?â you question. Perhaps if he sees you as one heâll leave you alone.
He exhales a deep breath. âLetâs just get in the car, okay?â
âYou can admit it,â you challenge and walk closer to him. âDoes talking shit about someone make me a bad person, Seungcheol?â
He stares down at you, soft gaze turning dark with annoyance.
âTo the car, Yn,â he demands slowly just in case you wonât understand; his tone is sharp in a way you havenât heard before. You donât let that scare you away. Maybe if you werenât so fired up, you would have been a little intimidated.
You laugh darkly and roll your eyes at his command. âYou want me to sit next? Bark, too?â
âNow, youâre just being dramatic.â
Dramatic, he says.
âWoof?â you reply, dramatically giving him the best puppy-dog eyes you can muster.
Seungcheolâs jaw clenches at your responseânot pleased with your sarcasm. However, instead of replying in an annoyed tone, he takes a step forward. His head draws closer to your face to ensure your eyes are glued to his.
âWanna be a good girl and go to the car, Cherry?â he murmurs lowly, an eyebrow quirking up for a second.
His sudden change in tone has you stiffening. You want to bite backâfiguratively or literately⌠you arenât sure yetâbut you canât even remember what you are mad about in the first place.
âHm?â he croons when you don't reply quickly.
Rather than a sarcastic reply, you simply grumble, âwhatever,â before pushing past him to get to his car.
You stand next to the passenger side like before, waiting for him to unlock it. Seungcheol comes beside you and swiftly unlocks the vehicle. Although you arenât arguing at the moment, you can sense some irritation lingering from him.
You get the feeling he'll always hold the door open no matter how annoyed he is with you.
You feel suffocated.
The air in the car is too hot. The weight of his jacket has you overheating. The tension is unbearable.
Seungcheol keeps his eyes on the road, not throwing you a single glance as he drives. Every once in a while he will tighten his hold on the steering wheel. One time you even catch the way his muscles flex at the motionânow exposed from not wearing his jacket. You never realized how fit he is. This isnât the first time you have seen him sleeveless, but you just never stared long enough to notice. Or if you did, you simply didnât care. Regardless, you notice now, and you have to force your eyes away before he catches you staring.
You want to ask for music so you donât have to sit in this insufferable silence, but your mouth feels dry. You decide to just deal with the quietness, shifting in the seat so youâre facing the window more. Your eyes drift close as you let the hum of the car distract you.Â
Seungcheolâs jacket is snuggled around you, and his woodsy cologne fills your senses. Itâs pleasant, and you donât mind if you smell more of it in the future.
By the time you arrive home, you are on the verge of sleep. You stumble out of the car and shut the door without saying a word to Seungcheol. You expect him to drive off, but the sound of his tires moving never comes. Instead, you hear his car door opening and closing.
âYou donât have to walk me to the door,â you say while you glance behind you. Seungcheol is following you languidly.
âNo, I donât,â he says and pauses at the bottom of your porch steps. He places a foot on the first step while a hand holds onto the rail. You have your keys out, ready to slide them into the keyhole when you speak.
âThen donât,â you reply sternly.
He chuckles lowly but doesnât say anything about it.
âYou can go now,â you say when he doesn't move.
âYou have something of mine.â
Puzzled, you stare at him for a second. Seungcheol gestures to your body, and you quickly remember youâre wearing his jacket. You tug it off and toss it to him. He grabs it from the air with ease. The loss of heat makes you wish he didnât say anything.
âGoodnight, Cherry,â he murmurs as soon as you click open your door. You step inside before turning to face him.
The nickname you used earlier forms on your tongue, yet you canât find the courage to say it consciously.
âNight,â you answer, then shut the door before either of you can say anything else.
With your head bowed, you turn the lock slowly while you exhale deeply. His nickname falls from your lips under your breathâunable to keep the desire at bay.
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A/N: Can't believe the first chapter is actually published đ I sat and stared at this for a few before hitting "post" because I'm so anxious! dfl;kbjdvs. Please feel free to share your thoughts on it so far!
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The Crucible (Part 2)
Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 50
The test ends.
(Cross-posted from Ao3)
I had someone ask me to be tagged in upcoming chapters, so if anyone would like to be added to the tag list, just ley me know!
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Chapter Index
In the last year and a half, youâd found yourself caught in many situations you felt ill-prepared for. Youâd encountered the reanimated corpses of your comrades, your brothers in arms. Youâd survived wounds that should have been the end of you. Youâd been recruited into a secretive program to fight man-made monsters. Youâd fallen for a man youâd never have met if it werenât for all the horror you both endured.Â
Youâd been stabbed, burned, tortured, and youâd survived. Youâd found a way through.Â
You could navigate this conversation, too. Somehow.Â
All you had to do was not make yourself look guilty of treason.Â
Easy-fucking-peasy.Â
âYouâre not to be out of the barracks.â Reed approached you with a superior look in his eye. Fitting, given he technically was your superior. As much as you might hate that fact.Â
Luckily, you had more than one man you took your orders from, these days.Â
âKrauser asked me to keep setting wire charges for the mornings.â The lie came so easily to you, though maybe that was because the evidence to support it was literally hanging off your shoulder. The duffel bag held all the little components to make the traps your Major had taught you how to set up.Â
Just setting charges, like normal. Not breaking into your office. Not reading your reports-
Your thoughts were so loud in your head you worried that they might escape you, somehow. Still, you willed yourself to be stone. Just as the man in front of you was.Â
Or, more accurately, just as he normally was.
Reedâs long nose crinkled as he looked down at the bag, then back up to you. âI wasnât aware of this.âÂ
âDidnât know he had to tell you.â It was sharper than was smart, but you felt like you were backed into a corner . . . but then Reed hadnât made any accusations yet, had he? âDidnât know you were supposed to be out here, either.âÂ
Reed shrugged at that. âI can go where I please.âÂ
âSo what brought you out here?âÂ
His eyes narrowed, and he reached into his pocket. A silver lighter was what he pulled out, one that he flipped open and then closed. Something you wouldnât expect from the man, when in all the months heâd been here, all the weeks youâd been out late setting up lines with Krauser, youâd never once seen Reed smoke. But before you could voice that- âBad habits, unfortunately.â He slid the lighter back into his pocket, then, studying you. âMaybe we have that in common.âÂ
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?âÂ
âYouâre very close with the Major . . . arenât you?âÂ
What the hell-
âHeâs my commanding officer.âÂ
âAnd you spend a lot of time with your commanding officer. A lot of time in your off-hours,â Reed observed, and what the actual fuck was happening right now? âHe gives you permissions far beyond your rank-â
âHe likes things to be handled by competent people, I guess.âÂ
âDoes he now?â Reed raised a brow, his eyes sharpening, and you were so thoroughly thrown off your guard you let the silence stretch a few moments between the two of you. âI can understand some familiarity. He did save your life, after all.âÂ
âGuess he wouldnât have had to if that soldier had gone for my throat, right?â you hissed, because those words had been a splinter in you all day. One that you couldnât get out, that festered.Â
âI suppose not.âÂ
Fuck it.Â
He knew something. He had some involvement with bioweapons. Heâd known before STRATCOM asked him to help train recruits. And if the reports Krauser had were really all the incidents the government had on file, then there was only so much Reed and Hellman could have been involved with.Â
The operation to retrieve the G-Virus . . . or the first communication with Birkin himself.
If you werenât just pulling theories out of your ass.
Time to find out if you were.Â
âBeen thinking about that,â you said, your eyes cutting through the dark, aiming for him. âYou were right. That soldier should have made sure I was dead.â Reed knew you were setting up something, you could see it in his eyes. The bastard was gracious enough to let you do it - not that you gave him much time to speak and interrupt that line of thought. âAnd our government should have arrested the man who made a biological weapon of mass destruction, but they didnât. They made a deal with him. And now weâre all paying the price for some idiotâs actions.âÂ
You watched the agentâs face carefully. Watched as something raged against the cage of stoicism heâd built around himself. The corner of his mouth curled. âNow how did you learn about that?â he asked, and the two of you might as well have been circling each other with knives.Â
And you would have to answer that question very carefully, or heâd be able to bleed you.Â
âHow did you?â you asked, and Reed actually smiled.Â
Krauserâs smile usually meant trouble, at least when it came to training. It meant a challenge. This? That smile felt more like a snake baring its fangs. âOh, Sergeant, you donât want to play this game with me.âÂ
âIâm not playing.â The words were steel. âI want to know why any idiot would think that trying to make a deal with someone like that would be a good idea.âÂ
âDealing with Birkin was a necessary compromise,â Reed hissed, taking a step forward, trying to back you towards the mess hall. You couldnât smell any traces of cigarette smoke on him as he got close. âA force that is willing to do whatever it takes is the one that will remain in power.â
âSure,â you felt rage rising like bile in your throat. âJust better hope it doesnât kill our own people in the process, right?âÂ
âSacrifices are a part of war,â Reed said, his tone devoid of any empathy. âI thought soldiers were supposed to know that. But then, soldiers are also supposed to follow orders. Theyâre supposed to not scrape for classified intel. And theyâre supposed to not fraternize with their comrades . . . but here we are.âÂ
A muscle in your face twitched, and Reed smiled wider. Satisfied.Â
âYouâre done for the night. Get back to your barracks.âÂ
In the end, the two soldiers he pulled from night patrol to escort you back made it a difficult order to refuse. And so, you lay in your bunk, staring up at the ceiling. Good thing you were used to sleepless nights, because you had too many thoughts to sort out.Â
Fraternizing. But Reed hadnât spoken of Leon. No, heâd spoken of Krauser, and that thought . . .Â
You tried not to focus on it too much, because for all his bluster, Reed had slipped. Youâd seen the reports in his office. Youâd read the matching ones Krauser had given you over and over again. Birkinâs name had been blacked out on each and every one of them, but Reed had just spoken that name to you.Â
It left you exhausted as the hours passed by, but-
⧍⧍⧍
The purpose of the test was exhaustion.Â
Leon had known that when he first heard the timeline of it. Fifty-four hours in the woods, with limited rations and even more limited sleep. Days full of physical and mental exertion.Â
He wanted to sleep, he really did. Even if they were only being given four hours for it. Still, he hadnât accepted any arguments from the others when he volunteered for a night shift. It was only right, in his mind. Heâd been given the responsibility of leading during the test. Heâd watch over everyone while they took their well-deserved rest.Â
Valeria had insisted on taking the second watch, but for now she slept alongside the others on the forest floor, rifles at their sides. Ready for anything, just as Krauser had trained them to be.Â
Leon half expected a tear gas canister to sail into their campsite.Â
Or for Krauser to just storm in and start slicing proverbial throats.Â
All that to say, Leon was keeping his focus on the space around the squad, listening for any signs of danger.Â
And that was likely why he overheard the raised voices in the distance.Â
Leonâs brow furrowed - because heâd recognize Krauserâs voice anywhere. Heâd know the tone it took when the man was upset, too.Â
He should just leave it. He knew that.Â
That didnât stop him from shaking Valeria awake, though, just in case. She grumbled when he whispered that he was going to check something out but took up his watch anyway. So, once the rest of the group had someone watching over them, Leon slunk off into the dark. Heâd just proved earlier in the day that he could move quietly, but that didnât make it any less difficult now. The shadows helped him move unnoticed, though, hiding him from the lights Leon found himself moving towards.Â
There was a command tent set up in the woods, big enough to no doubt house Krauser, Hellman, and the other drill sergeants that traded out with them. A lantern dimly shined through the gaps in the canvas, letting Leon see movement inside.Â
âHeâs a fucking problem, Hellman, and you know it!â Krauserâs voice was not so easily confined as the light was.Â
The response was mostly lost, until Leon moved closer.Â
â . . . perhaps drastic-âÂ
âTwo of my men have had bones broken or dislocated under his watch. Thatâs not drastic, itâs incompetence at best,â Krauser shot back, and Leonâs jaw clenched. Reed. There was no one else they could be talking about.Â
âAnd are you suggesting it was intentional at worst?âÂ
âHe didnât seem all that broken up about it.â A third voice, one Leon also recognized as Docâs.Â
There was a pause before Hellman spoke again. He sounded as tired as Leon felt. âYou told me that he didnât lay a hand on the injured recruit this time-â
âBut we all know that wasnât the case before.â Krauser reminded the agent, and Leon felt himself be thrown back several weeks. He was struck then with the memory of Hellman looking at him through two sets of prison bars, the sound of fists impacting flesh. The sound of your scream- âHeâs losing us men. Thatâs all there is to it. Training them hard I have no problem with. Crippling them before they can even fight? Thatâs unacceptable, and I want him gone.âÂ
âYou know I donât have the authority to make that decision.âÂ
âThen we find someone who does!âÂ
âMajor,â Hellman said, and Leon couldnât miss the sympathy in his voice. âReed is a difficult man, I know that. But he has always put the interests of our nation first. We wouldnât be aware of Umbrellaâs part in whatâs happened without him.â Leon balked at that, the implications settling in his gut. âHe has his reasons for doing what heâs doing, but . . . I understand what youâre saying. Iâll speak with him when we get back.âÂ
There was a huff. âYou will,â Krauser ordered, leaving no room for debate.Â
 A moment later the tentâs flap was thrown open and Krauser stormed out, absent his usual beret and wearing an expression of pure and utter frustration. He reached up, pressing a hand to his forehead, letting out a ragged sigh. Leon watched from the shadows of the forest, sympathy in his chest along with worry.Â
He held on to those emotions as Krauser rounded the corner, heading towards the Humvee Leon could barely make out nearby, and the younger man took that as his cue to leave.Â
âWhat was it?â Valeria asked in a hushed voice when he returned, and Leon grimaced in the dark.Â
âSomeone got hurt back on base. Reed was watching, I guess.âÂ
A scoff heralded Valeriaâs response. âWhat a dick.â
A dick whoâd been the reason the US government knew about Umbrella. And if that was so, Leon could only ask himself one question-
⧍⧍⧍
How did he know?
It plagued you into the morning, keeping you from sleep. That, and the veiled threats Reed had thrown at you in the night.Â
Fraternization. Did he know? Or was he jumping to conclusions with the wrong man? You werenât sure. Whatever the case, he wore a smug look the next morning, one that held disdain for you when you reported for First Call.Â
But you werenât being suspended from duty. So, he hadnât told anyone his theory. Not yet.
Instead, Reed seemed to be taking his punishment out on the whole unit. Heâd doubled the distance you all normally had to go for your morning run, and by the time breakfast rolled around, everyone was more than happy to dig in to the food offered, even if it tasted like shit on the best of days. Everyone but you, because you were rescued from that fate by one of Docâs assistants. Even if Reed protested, having someone else remind him of your orders helped.Â
There wasnât much to do that morning, though, so you were pretty sure that the assistants just did it because hatred of the agent was spreading through the base like wildfire.Â
So, you, them and Grayson hid out in the infirmary, eating the food that Doc had left for you. Pasta this time - a big tub of it that you all divided up and reheated. There wasnât quite enough for everyone, but one of the two assistants volunteered up her share to Grayson before you even had the opportunity. She went to the mess hall instead, and you were left in the peace of the infirmary. It wasnât exactly a talkative breakfast, but you were thankful for that. It gave you more time to think. To turn the nightâs discoveries over in your head.Â
Or, more accurately, the pieces of discoveries.Â
You werenât sure if those pieces fit together to make the actual puzzle become clear, or if your spite was leading you to force things to fit an image in your head.Â
All you knew was that Reed was a bastard. That he wanted you gone, one way or another. That he was all but accusing you of sleeping with your commanding officer, if he wasnât accusing you of fraternization in general. You were sure that heâd encountered BOWâs or at least knowledge of them before, and you were sure that he knew Birkinâs name and role in the talks with the government.Â
You just couldnât be sure of how he knew.Â
That didnât change the feeling in your gut though; the idea eating away at you, even as you went about your day. Birkin would have covered his tracks well. What he was doing might as well have been suicide, if the wrong people discovered his treachery. So, it begged the question - the same question that Alenko had voiced not so long ago:
How did Umbrella find out? Who ratted him out about the deal with the CIA?
Maybe Umbrella discovered it on their own. Or maybe someone tipped them off to Birkinâs actions. And if that were the case . . .
If Reed had been one of the few to be in a position to know, to do something . . .
If, if, if.Â
So many ifs. So much depended on your hunch being right.Â
All of those ifs and maybes, and one filled you with dread more than any other.
What if you were right?Â
You didnât know. You didnât know what you would do because how could you present any evidence? You had none, save for inference from stories you shouldnât have heard, and the reports hidden in your bunk that you shouldnât even possess. Reports that, you decided, you desperately needed to return to Krauserâs office. Youâd held on to them for too long, and Reed would be watching you now. You could feel his gaze on you all day long as he pushed you and the rest hard under the blazing July sun.Â
Enough that, after the lunch you mercifully skipped to go to the infirmary, one of your comrades could take no more, it seemed, and doubled over, spewing her meal into the dirt.Â
You grimaced but went to help her up when Reed deigned it not important enough to interfere. Unsurprisingly. The recruit brushed you off when you asked if she was alright, but she looked pale. That didnât change over the rest of the afternoon, but she pushed through, even as the amount of exertion from the day left her and many others looking ill.Â
And all the while, Reedâs eyes were fixed on you, some unseen equation in his head. You could see it - the two of you trying to assess each other. To understand oneâs enemy.Â
âSergeant,â he ordered as you all reported for melee sparring, âletâs have another demonstration. See if all that time youâve been spending with the Major is paying off.âÂ
You brushed off the insinuation as best you could, because even if he had the wrong man, the implication of his words . . .Â
Didnât matter now. Not until he made a formal accusation, you supposed. In the moment, you had opponents to deal with. Ones that were just as exhausted as you were, but opponents nonetheless. It was a familiar scenario that Reed set up for you, one that youâd been through a dozen times; your comrades lined up, stepping in to face you as you defeated the previous attacker. When Krauser had set such a challenge for you, though, you knew it was because he wanted to force you to be better.Â
With Reed, you knew he only wanted to see you fail.Â
Well, fuck him.Â
You knocked your first opponent into the dirt.Â
Disarmed the second.Â
They didnât put up much of a fight. Not like they usually did. A fact that concerned you, but still, you pressed on.
On and on, opponents were sent to face you-
⧍⧍⧍
And on and on, Leon fought them back.Â
He could remember a time, not so long ago, when heâd watched you fight your way through his squad, one after the other. He remembered thinking that such a feat was impossible for him. That he would never be able to hold a candle to your abilities.Â
Now, he was proving himself wrong.Â
King of the hill. That was what Krauser had declared these fights would be. Winner gets to stay in the ring - a twenty-foot wide structure made of wood. One person lost the fight and was sent out, the next combatant was sent in. That meant only one winner by the end of it all. One fighter out of ten. Winner would be spared from whatever exercise was coming next, that was the deal.
Leon had been the third person to fight, and now, he was on his seventh opponent. Sweat dripped down his face and back under the oppression of the heat, his body sore and demanding rest. Still, he kept going. He ducked under swings and delivered counter cuts, kept his movements small and his mind sharp. It was enough that as Alejandro made a misstep, Leon was able to take advantage of it, his knife slashing forward as the other man went to switch his weapon from one hand to the other.Â
Blunted metal met fabric and pressed against flesh.Â
Two left.Â
Two opponents.Â
There was no BOW spin to this test. Nothing to make it seem like they were fighting a monster. This was a test of oneâs skill against a person. The very thing Leon had struggled so hard with, in the beginning. Now, as Valeria stepped into the ring with him, knife in hand, Leon felt none of the anxiety he once experienced. None of the fear.Â
Only the desire - even if you werenât here to see it - to make you proud.Â
Valeria put up a good fight.Â
Leon would expect nothing less of her, but in the end, he had come to expect her scraping up dirt to throw in his eyes, or going for headshots.Â
As she went for one, her knife aimed high, Leon spun low, using the same move that Krauser had knocked him down with just a few nights ago. It would have worked, too, if Valeria hadnât read the next attack, spelled out in his exhaustion. Or, maybe sheâd just intended to use the high attack as a feint. Either way, Leon hoped sheâd intended to aim for something other than what she hit as he swung his leg out at hers. The attacks landed at the same time, and Leon was sure that him sweeping her supporting leg out from under her hurt a hell of a lot less than the shin that crashed into his face.Â
His vision blurred as pain cracked into his nose and mouth, and then both he and Valeria were on the ground, groaning in pain. Copper flooded his mouth, warmth spilling down his lips and cheeks as he blinked.Â
Ah, well, maybe heâd gotten overconfident . . .
But no immediate attack followed. He looked to where Valeria had fallen, seeing her up . . . but not attacking. She looked almost concerned.Â
âThe hell you doing, Soto?â Krauser asked, and Leon, even with what felt like a broken nose, smiled at her answer.Â
âLetting him get a free shot in,â she admitted, giving him an apologetic smile. âBusted his face, seems only fair.â Â
It would hurt her performance, Leon knew that, but she was doing it anyway.Â
So, Leon pushed himself off the ground and threw himself into the fray again, not giving her the chance to really ready herself. You would have been pleased with that, and Krauser was too. At least in part.Â
The fight ended in a few moves, Leon using a few feints of his own. When Valeria backed away from a slash, then rushed back in, Leon met her with a hard kick to the chest. She slammed backwards into the makeshift wall of the arena, and Leon pinned his knife to her throat there.Â
âYou okay?â were the first words she spoke to him, and Leon just nodded despite the blood dripping down his face.Â
âFine. You?âÂ
A laugh. âFine.âÂ
Krauser stepped into the arena as Leon lowered his knife, the Majorâs gaze a blade in and of itself. âDonât let your enemy get back up, Soto,â he growled, âyou know that.âÂ
âI do, sir,â Valeria nodded, sighing and letting exhaustion weigh her shoulders down. âYou know me and my overconfidence,â she groaned, like it was some great enemy of hers.Â
Krauser didnât appreciate the joke. âIf you know, then fix it, dipshit. Get out of here.â Valeria didnât need to be told twice, throwing Leon a wink and rolling her shoulders as she left. âYou good to keep going, rookie?â The question turned Leonâs attention to the Major once more, and Leon just huffed, spitting out some of the blood in his mouth.Â
âNever been better, sir.âÂ
It wasnât the first time heâd fought with a bloody nose, and it wasnât the first time heâd won with one, either. Williams gave him a run for his money, but in the end, she overcommitted to a strike, and gave Leon the time that he needed. He was exhausted by the time it was done, panting as he slashed his practice knife across Williamsâ stomach.Â
He tried to decline the prize.Â
It would be bad for morale if the squad leader sat out while everyone else did a hundred pushups, Leon argued. Even if it would just bring him more exertion.Â
Krauser had scoffed at the idea, shaking his head and telling Leon that he could do two-hundred if he was so inclined, but heâd do it after a medic saw him. Made sure he wasnât concussed.Â
So Leon found himself in the care of one of Docâs assistants. The woman had swapped out with her mentor just before the melee test started. Leon recognized her - heâd seen her more than a few times when heâd come to visit you in the infirmary.Â
She had never looked so pale, then.Â
He watched her carefully, his brow furrowed in concern as she checked him over and gave him things to stop the bleeding in his nose. Her movements were sluggish, her face drawing into a grimace when she thought he wasnât looking. âAre you okay?â he finally asked.Â
He was given a surprised look and a not entirely-convincing nod. âIâm alright.âÂ
Leon nodded, but when he returned to the rest of the group, he couldnât shake the feeling that-
⧍⧍⧍
Something was wrong.Â
Youâd felt the thought scratching at the door since afternoon. Someone getting sick from exertion wasnât unheard of. This wasnât someone, though.Â
Not when you had a dozen beds full in the infirmary, and Doc was struggling to make sense of it all. There wasnât much you could do, honestly. Most of the men and women whoâd come in just lay in bed coughing wet air from their lungs or sitting hunched over buckets.Â
A dozen of them.Â
A dozen people, all coming down with the same sickness at the same time.Â
A sickness that left them growing more and more pale as the sun dipped below the sky. And it didnât continue to be just that dozen. Their fevers worsened, their complaints of aches growing and growing as others joined in, hobbling towards the infirmary-
Something was very, very wrong.Â
By Docâs expression, he knew it too.Â
âCome on,â he gestured to his assistant, then to you. âLetâs get them some water.âÂ
The three of you didnât make it more than two steps outside the main sick bay before Doc closed the door behind him . . . then locked it. âGo secure the other door,â he ordered his assistant, and you felt something rising up in you. Choking you. Cutting off your air with a familiar grip . . .Â
But this wasnât . . .Â
It couldnât be . . .
âSergeant.â An order. Give me an order. Something to do. Some way to help. âGet to the comms tower. Tell the Major thereâs a situation.âÂ
A situation.Â
A non-committal word. Because a situation could be resolved. De-escalated.Â
That was all this was.Â
That had to be all this was.Â
You and Doc were just being cautious. Quarantine was a safe play. Alerting Krauser was the smart thing to do.Â
So, you nodded, trying to ignore the way your own stomach lurched. Praying it was just nerves and not something else.Â
âSergeant?â Grayson asked, poking his head out of the room that had been yours for so many weeks. His arm was in a sling, but otherwise, he looked fine. âIs something wrong?â
âGet back in your room.â The order was given without even a second glance at your fellow cadet. âLock the door. Donât open it for anyone but me or Doc.âÂ
If Grayson was frightened by the command, you didnât see it. You were too busy storming out of the infirmary, heading towards the comms station. A place youâd spent little time in, during your tenure here. It was a long walk there, one that felt longer and longer as your thoughts closed in on you, a hungry pack with gnashing teeth. They nipped at your heels, your head snapping towards the sound of a hacking cough in the distance.Â
Get to the comms.Â
Tell Krauser.Â
Get back and-
You were half-way across the base when it happened, passing through the training yard that youâd spent so many evenings in. There was no music coming from Krauserâs office, given the man wasnât there, but if there had been, it would have been cut off. Just as surely as the lights were.Â
You stopped mid-stride as the streetlights, the buildings, everything, was plunged into near darkness in the gray, fading light of dusk.
And for a moment, your heart stopped with it when, in the dark you heard it:
⧍⧍⧍
Footsteps.Â
Leon hadnât been sure heâd heard it. In all honesty, there was too much other movement from his squad to be sure. They were getting ready to set up camp for the night, Alejandro volunteering to take up watch. The last night of the test - the final stretch. The group, Leon included, was exhausted, more than happy to bunk down for the four hours of rest, eating what little of their MREâs were left in the stretching shadows of the trees. It had been a moment of rest. A brief reprieve.Â
And it ended with those shuffling footsteps. A cautious voice. âHey, guys, weâve got-â
And then a scream.Â
Leon was on his feet in an instant, his gun raised and ready for whatever test Krauser had planned . . .
But then there was a wet ripping sound. A splattering, a choked cry . . . and in the dim, fading light, Leon saw crimson as a body fell to the forest floor.Â
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#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy#jack krauser#resident evil x reader#resident evil 2#resident evil 4#resident evil#between the bones#gender neutral reader#leon kennedy x you#no y/n
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I am so unbelievably nervous for this chapter pooks you dont even know it andthe title sure doesn't sound very promising at all
Writing as im reading once again but I noticed how long my chapter commentary has been gwtting so I'll tryyyy to Tone It Down but i make no promises. The length of my commentary is only dictated by how absolutely crazy you decide to make this chapter.
Ace and Sabo giving ed a shovel talk is everything ive wanted since the marriage i beg you to let ace live long enough to get mad at ed for not telling him pretty please đđ
Oooh the gift for Sabo i was gonna send an ask abt it since ive been rereading the fic this weekend but i figured you wouldn't forget it
LUFFY AND SABO INTERACT8ONS đ¤đŚ
đđ¤đŚ
đđ¤đđŚ
đ¤đđŚ
đđ¤đđŚ
đđŚ
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đđđŁđŁđŁâźď¸âźď¸âźď¸âźď¸âźď¸
Im very much unready to read the strawhats be separated i have cried too many times reading this fic and im certain this will be the worst to date
STOP đ ed's jst going on abt keeping the crew safe and i can feel the tears coming
HOLD ON if ed is in fact staying with luffy, thing i should've guessed from last chapter, does that m3an they're meeting boa? Omg. I am suddenly so much more excited for the next set of chapters, thing that i did not think was possible.
Once again i ask myself when the fuck ed learned gymnastics đ
Not the "i definitely did that on purpose" after they slam into a fucking building like sure you did 𤨠and i definitely believe you đ¤¨
"Its as straight as you can get" made me crack up
I will be so completely honest with you i have no idea what the fuck is going on like a good 40% of fights but thats jst because i have trouble translating the moves into a movie in my head
"Adam Sandler? What are you doing here? And in a bright yellow pinstripe suit sounding stoned out of his damn mind, too." I had not expected to laugh this much in this chapter i was fr bracing myself to cry. đ§ââď¸. Now that i think abt it you might just be lowering our guard so that it hits harder đ¤¨
AND ED'S SAVIOR COMPLEX HITS AGAIN WITH BLAMING THEMSELVES ONCE MORE !!!
so. Luffy and Ed separation. I cant bring myself to be sad this shit was written so well đ just "wait for me" and "ill always find you" ugh just throw an "unquestionably" in there and id cry there could be one every chapter and id still cry every single time
Im so fucking excited for ed to meet coin hopefully next chapter đ¤
Amazing chapter as always!! Surprisingly didnt cry!! Thank you!! I cannot fucking wait for the Wednesday chapter
I pulled out the Rio Romeo you KNOW it was gonna be a rough one.
Tfw you're tying to give your baby brother's S/O the shovel talk but you're also stuck in the scaffolding at your own execution and your baby brother's S/O is also your friend who you have cried about your self worth and daddy issues to.
That fucking black book plot bunny has been hopping around FAR TOO LONG, so I had to take it out back and shoot it and by that I mean finally deliver it to it's intended recipient.
Mmmmmmm Boa
Look Ed had gymnastics beamed directly into their head by GOD does that make sense?
When I write combat I do it 70% for the vibes 20% for the quips and humor and 10% for the actual fighting. If you have no idea what is happening you and I are on the same page.
Ed got them self worth issues in them where the dog should be đŞđŞđŞ
God I cannot wait for Coin & Ed content. Love those two.
I am so proud of you for not crying. I cried writing it. That baby was cooked with TEARS.
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Okay. Iâve had time to process the spoilers for chapter 407: Paranormal Orphan.
Here are my thoughts:
-WTF?! They are twins?! What is it with Japanese mangaka and having unhinged twin relationships?! Iâm looking at you, Nightow.
-AFO was born with his Quirk activated. Stealing nutrients from his mother then desperately feeding off of her corpse. Stole her Quirk too and seems to have some sentimental value in it as he still uses it often to this day.
-Low-key, I think thereâs a hint here that the genetic change in babies and pre-pubescent kids started as some sort of STD that evolved considering their mom was a prostitute and âcontractedâ an illness. Thatâs just me, though.
-The first person he ever had was Yoichi and he held his hand right after birth. Also: JFC THATâS A BIG BOY
-AFO is a victim of his Quirk like the other villains(Toga, Touya, Tenko). He was born wanting to possess things. I donât like the whole âhe was born evilâ narrative. Yeah, he looks like a crazy ass Omen baby, but it makes sense heâd think the way he does.
-AFO is also an unreliable narrator here as this is all from his POV
-He says something to the effect of (weâll know more once we get the scanlations) how, even though Yoichi canât give him anything like he wants from everyone else, heâs still âhisâ.
-So, did he just get up and start walking and taking care of his brother out of sheer will when he was still a baby or did someone pick them up and raise them to the point when AFO wanted something from them and killed them when he didnât get it?
-Yoichi still believes there is some good in his brother because he held his hand as a baby. đ Poor kid
-Poor wittle Yoichi getting kicked because he threw something at AFO. For how theyâve had to live, it makes sense AFO would react that wayâŚin a manner of speaking.
-Yoichi learning to read from comics he finds in rubble/a dump. AFO takes notice and sits next to him. He then likes the part where the author says âOne for All, All for One.â He should have had a name prior that he must have given himself as Yoichi has one. Though it would make sense that AFO named Yoichi himself as âfirst giftâ since he was the first thing he ever had.
-AFO being jealous of the Glowing Baby is pretty spot on. All of this seems to hint that AFO and Yoichi were the first to have powers considering how AFO talks about the Glowing Baby and the 50 kids born in India.
-The last page is quite a cliffhanger and it sucks we have to wait 2 weeks for the next part(thereâs no way this isnât a two parter).
-How AFO is thinking about Yoichi leaving him is intensely possessive and reminds me of how Vader choked Padme when he thought she was betraying/leaving him. This also ties into how AFO didnât know he had killed Yoichi.
-My guess is that AFO lashed out and sliced off Yoichiâs hand in a possessive rage. He was so startled by his own action that it gave the 3rd user time to grab Kudo and Yoichi then speed out of there.
-Is it just me or does anyone else hope AFO kept Yoichiâs hand? Parallel to Tomura having all of his familyâs hands. I sure hope he did because I need even more twisted twin obsession.
-Itâs most likely Yoichi lived long enough after this(and maybe with his blood) transferred OFA to Kudo. He then died from his blood loss and thatâs why AFO didnât know he had killed him.
-AFO crying over Yoichiâs death maybe the first and only time heâs ever cried. Yoichi did mean something to him, maybe even more than a âthingâ, but he didnât realize it until that one moment. He blames Kudo for his death because of the mental gymnastics he has to go through to convince himself that thereâs no way he would have hurt the only person heâs ever actually lovedâpossessive as it may be. If Kudo hadnât have taken him from the vault, he wouldnât have reacted and cut off Yoichiâs hand, and therefore, Yoichi would still be alive.
-If he takes OFA with Yoichiâs soul in it, then Yoichi will be his again and âI totally didnât kill him. See! Heâs still alive!â
-The internetâs hot-takes that AFO is homophobic because he went full possessive Vader over Yoichi is weird. I said it.
-A part of me wants there to be a cliffhanger where we think Bakugo may have defeated AFO. We then get the intense fight between Tomura and Deku. Deku is about to win, however thatâs going to happen, but then AFO shows up around the age he was when he kicked Yoichi, and heâs holding Bakugo as a threat, demanding Deku give him his brother back. But thatâs just me. Again.
Anyway, I can admit when Iâm wrong about a villainâs backstory. It wouldnât be the first time and I honestly should have expected something like this considering Horikoshi going full on horror during this Final War arc. However, I donât think AFO being born with his Quirk activated and âwanting to takeâ necessarily makes him âborn evil.â The twins still had to survive on the streets as orphans, anti-meta people believing AFO is a diseased heathen and never wanting to help either of them. So, he took on exactly what they thought of him. Itâs actually quite sad when you stop to think about it.
Iâm going to be frothing at the mouth for the next two weeks to see how this backstory ends. Since it started with AFO going nuts and thinking Bakugo is Kudo, Iâm assuming weâll get further context of AFOâs thoughts when heâs crying.
#all for one#afo#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#yoichi shigaraki#bnha afo#bnha spoilers#2nd ofa user#mha kudo#mha407#mha407 spoilers#chapter407#spoilers
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Chapter 7: May
âž Pairings âź Levi Ackerman x fem!mute!Reader (she/her pronouns), set in a modern semi-fictional world
âž Summary âź Due to childhood trauma, you find yourself an adult without the ability to speak. After years of working on it, you have found ways to live without a voice. Now here in your late 20s, you are 5 months in getting used to a new town. On a fateful day in late November, you and your adopted sister visit a local bookstore-cafĂŠ, unaware of the friendships about to blossom. Throughout the months, one friendship in particular develops into something more.
âž Content/Warnings âź fluff, slowburn, oblivious feelings, romance, angst, mention of minor character deaths, trauma, illness, adoption, mentions of fire, disabilities, alcohol use, very light nsfw mentions, references to child abuse, smoking and alcohol abuse mentions, domestic violence, light assault,
âž Author's note âź Hi guys! Are y'all ready for the final chapter?! June is the reason why I pushed through so many months because [redacted]. I know you're just as excited as I am. I hope you enjoy this chapter though! I know it took me a while, but I think I'm quite happy with how it turned out. Happy Birthday, Mama Kuchel! <3
âž Word Count âź ~9.8k
You wake up to a pounding on your bedroom door, your eyes popping open at the sudden fright. It takes a moment to reorient yourself as you realize you are in your bedroom and not, in fact, on a date with Levi.
You take note of the early morning sun filtering in through your sheer curtains as you blink away sleep, acutely aware of the memories of your dream already starting to fade. An ounce of annoyance starts seeping its way into your brain from the rude awakening when you hear Hangeâs muffled voice come from the other side of your door.
âGooooood mooorrrrning birthday girl!! Iâm coming in!â They shout as they push open your door. You fold your pillow over your ear to muffle Hangeâs shouting as they come in. Your wide-eyed sister stops mid-step and frowns down at the sight of you. Thereâs a small tray in her hands, the contents hidden from where you currently lie.
âWhat are you still doing in bed?â You release the pillow to free your hand.
âWhat do you mean? Iâm sleeping.â It was your turn to frown back.
âLevi is on his way to come get you. You should be getting ready.â They wiggle an eyebrow at you but youâre too shellshocked to even care. You sit straight up like a meerkat, wide eyes aimed right at Hangeâs amused smirk.
âLevi? Why?â
âHeâs keeping you busy for me today so I can prepare for your birthday party. So, eat,â they set down the tray that has a simple breakfast staring up at you, âget dressed, and get out. Heâll be here soon.â They poke your nose before turning around and disappearing through the doorway, leaving your door wide open.
Butterflies start flooding your stomach as you process what just transpired. Levi was on his way to you and youâre looking like⌠this. Youâre looking like this. The realization dawns on you, suddenly hyper aware of your messy bed head and ruffled pajamas. Grabbing a piece of toast, you throw yourself out of bed and into your private bathroom to start the shower, simultaneously praying that today would be a good day.
.
Your original plan for this morning consisted of wearing pajamas and taking your time getting ready for whatever your sister planned for you that evening. Instead, you find yourself speeding through your shower ritual then throwing clothes everywhere in a vain attempt to find something to wear for the day as your hair dried.
Even with your hasty speed, it still takes you an hour and a half until youâre satisfied with yourself. You take one more glance over before huffing heavily and pulling open your door then stepping out into the hallway. Your heart skips a beat when you recognize a voice.
âYour tea is too watery. Let me help next time.â You hear something heavy being set down on the table, a mug you guess.
âI canât have you do that. Youâre my guest, Levi.â
âIâm not asking. If Iâm drinking tea, it better be good. This isnât fit for consumption.â
When you pause in the entryway, you see Hange and Levi sitting at the dining room table. They turn their heads in your direction at the same time, Hange with a wide smile and Levi with a furrowed brow. Heâs wearing a dark green t-shirt tucked into his usual jeans with his black leather jacket draped over his shoulders. He stands up, his chair sliding back as he does.
âTook you long enough.â Levi retorts.
âSorry. I didnât know you were coming until this morning.â
âHange, you said youâd let her know last week.â Levi slides his attention over to your sister who is suddenly very concerned with the mug in front of her. He sighs then gathers his keys off the table before making his way over to the kitchen sink to place his own mug into it. âLetâs go.â
âBring her back in one piece, will you?â Hange glances over at you and winks.
âYeah, yeah. See you in a couple hours, shitty glasses.â
.
The car ride to who knows where stays relatively silent between the two of you. Soft rock plays through his speakers at a low enough volume allowing you to hear the carâs engine as well as the wind blowing outside as Levi zooms through the town.
You couldnât contain your surprise to see Levi driving - Erwinâs car no less. In the six months that you had known him, you have never once seen him drive. He mentioned his aversion to being behind the wheel early on in those months, saying heâd only drive when he had to. You guess today is one of those days. You hope this, whatever this is, isnât burdensome for him.
You turn to Levi, making sure he can see your hands then sign, âWhereâs Erwin, anyways?â
âHe got held up doing something.â
âIs he okay?â
âHeâll be fine, donât worry about it.â The car turns down a main road that you arenât familiar with. âAre you hungry?â Levi meets your gaze for a second before focusing back on the road. You think back to that singular bite of toast you had a mere couple of hours ago.
âYes.â You give him a sheepish smile.
âMe too. Your sister offered to make me lunch while waiting for your ass, but I was not in the mood to be poisoned today. I know a place.â He mutters and silence blankets the two of you again. You glance out the window as Levi zooms down the street and you realize youâre in a part of town youâve never been to before. Suddenly you can feel the car slowing down.
Levi pulls into a parking lot connected to a small park that consists of a playground and a few benches. There are a handful of people and kids out enjoying the warm weather today. Some children run around playing a game of tag while their parents, you assume, sit and chat away. A pang of nostalgia shoots through your whole body.
Once Levi shuts the car off, he glances over to you with his lips slightly parted as if he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. You raise an eyebrow at him expectantly, but he just pinches his lips together and unbuckles himself before pulling himself out the door. You do the same, furrowing your brow in confusion. This isnât the first time he hesitated to tell you what was on his mind, but you sure wish the previous time had been the last time. You push the door open and step out into the fresh air.
Instantly, the smell of freshly mown grass strikes your nose. A smile tugs at your lips as you breathe in deep, savoring the scent. Levi comes up next to you as he tucks the keys away into his pants. A warm breeze blows through his hair, and it makes your heart dance. Levi is so pretty, you think to yourself.
âYou okay?â Youâre suddenly aware of your staring, and you force yourself to look away.
âYes. Just thinking about how nice today is.â You give him a small smile.
âYes, it is. Ready to eat?â He turns around and sweeps his arm in the direction of a small building on the edge of the parking lot. Itâs blue and the outside looks almost like a farmhouse with a half wrapped wooden porch around it. Above the main entrance is a sign that reads âKirschsteinâsâ in black cursive font. If this is a restaurant, then it was as âmom and popâ as it could get. Levi walks off with you right behind.
The moment you step through the front door, a pleasant chime rings through the whole restaurant. A couple customers occupy some small tables already, so it was relatively quiet save for the light music coming from the speakers in the ceiling. The aesthetic gives a very rustic and homey feel, heavily mirroring the outside. Itâs quaint and simple and it makes you like it even more.
âSASHA! THE DOOR. PUT THAT FORK DOWN FIRST.â You hear an older woman yell from the back. A second later, a girl with reddish-brown hair pulled into a ponytail jumps through a door and over to the podium in the front. She has a couple of crumbs around her mouth which currently widens into a grin at you.
âHi! Welcome to Kirschsteins! Just the two of you today?â
âYes, please. Outside, if possible.â Levi speaks up, jerking his head to the side door. You follow his movement, and you see a cute little unfenced patio facing the park with small tables peppering around it.
âYes, sir! Follow me.â With a flourish, she grabs two menus and starts over to the patio.
When you both settle in, you canât help but wonder if this might be a date. He catches your eye only for you to swiftly look down at your menu, pretending to look at your options. He hasnât said anything outright about it, and you suppose two friends can go out for lunch without it being considered a date, right? Your thoughts are going a million miles a minute that you barely hear Levi calling your name. When you look over the menu, you see Levi staring at you with a raised brow.
âWhat would you like to drink?â He glances over to the side. Following his gaze, your eyes fall on a tall, slender boy with freckles and kind brown eyes.Â
âHi, Iâm Marco! Can I get you something to drink?â He gives you a soft smile. You glance over to Levi and sign âwaterâ.
âShe says water and Iâll take a cup of hot black tea.â Marco nods and leaves the two of you alone. The sounds of laughing children and birdsong make their way into your ears.
âWhereâd you go just now?â Levi asks, leaning back into his chair as he stares at you.
âI donât know, just thinking.â You then look back down to your menu, attempting to find something to eat. You hear him hum in response but say nothing else. This wasnât a date, it couldnât be.
After a bit, you hear the patio door open, and you look up to see your waiter holding your water glass as well as a saucer supporting a dainty teacup. He sets them down gently and then pulls out a notepad from his apron.
âIf youâre ready, I can take your order now.â he says, eyes shifting back and forth between the two of you. Levi glances over at you, ready for you to tell him your order. You still havenât given the menu a close enough look, so you take a quick glance before panic-choosing.
âTriple berry crepe, extra whipped cream.â Levi nods in understanding then glances down to his own menu. If you didnât know any better, you would think he chose the first thing his eyes landed on as well.
âSheâll take the triple berry crepe with extra whipped cream, and Iâll have the classic omurice, light ketchup please.â Levi hands Marco the menu and you do the same, smiling at the freckled boy. He nods and tucks his notepad back into his apron before grabbing the menus.
âSounds great. Please let me know if thereâs anything you need while waiting.â He bows and then heâs gone. You meet Leviâs eyes; theyâre a light gray today, like storm clouds after a bout of rain.
You both sit in silence for a bit, unsure of what to say. Levi fiddles with his silverware and you pick at you fingernails, a habit you've been unsuccessfully trying to break. Picking up your hands, you start to sign but Levi starts talking at the same time.
"So, ho- Oh, sorry." He crosses a leg over his knee and stares over at you. âGo ahead."
'Go ahead.' You sign at the same time as his words. He smirks at your soft laugh.
"Just say it."
âYour sign reading is better.â You grab your water glass and take a tentative sip. The sides of the glass are already perspiring so after setting it down, you wipe your hand on your napkin, taking note that it most likely wasnât just water that you were drying off.
âI would hope so, otherwise those classes have been a waste.â Levi mutters before taking a careful sip of his own drink, holding his teacup the way he does. Thereâs that knot in between his eyebrows again.
âClasses?â Thereâs a softness in his gaze.
âYeah, Iâm taking classes. I didnât want to be the only one not knowing what you were saying.â He rolls his eyes and looks away again. Leviâs cheeks start flushing your favorite shade of pink.
What he said might sound like common sense, but to you it meant so much more. Levi wasnât one to do things short term, meaning he wouldnât throw his money away on something that he would deem temporary. By your own reasoning, Levi plans to be in your life for a while. And that makes your chest warm. You donât know what to say to that. Luckily, you donât need to think of what to say as Marco comes swinging out the door with your plates.
âAlright, Iâve got one triple berry crepe with extra whipped creamâŚâ he trails off as he sets your plate down in front of you and continues, âand one omurice, light ketchup.â He places Leviâs down then stands up straight with his hands behind his back. âHow does everything look?â Levi glances over to you and you give him a thumbs up of approval.
âEverything looks great. Can I get another tea?â
âAbsolutely, Iâll be right out with that.â And then heâs gone again.
When you look down to your plate, your stomach starts rumbling even more. You are famished, consequences of your own doing of course. Youâre quick to cut into the fresh berries and soft crepe, taking a huge bite. You canât contain the squeal that comes out because it may have been the best tasting thing youâve ever had.
Youâve lived in Jinae for almost a year and you canât believe this is the first time youâve heard of and been to this place. You hear Levi let out a breathy chuckle, and you glance up at him. Heâs watching you in amusement, an actual smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
âIs it good?â You nod back enthusiastically, smiling back at him.
âGood. My mom and I used to frequent this place. Especially for her birthday.â He says softly as he tucks his napkin onto his lap as he speaks. Thereâs a wistful tone in his voice. Youâre again lost for words. You canât help but think how different this Levi is compared to the one you met so many months ago. And you liked this version of him. No, not version. This is him. And you really⌠really like him.
As always, a familiar silence befalls you both as you dig in. Leviâs tea comes out at some point but youâre too engrossed in your food to notice. There are a couple moments where he catches your eye and then looks away. You get this feeling like he wants to say something but wonât. You know better than to force it out of him though, so you opt to give him a soft smile in return before his eyes leave yours. Just as youâre about to finish, someone comes bursting out the patio door.
âHey guys, sorry to startle you but my boyfriend got stuck doing something else so Iâm here to drop off your check. No rush of course.â The voice belongs to a kid with ash-brown hair styled in an undercut. Heâs in a white button up with an apron tied around him.
He sets a black checkbook down on the table and turns to leave. A singular checkbook. Your eyes meet Leviâs for a quick second and then youâre setting your fork down and reaching into your cross-body purse. You slam your card onto the table. Levi, of course, is faster.
âWhat do you think youâre doing?â Levi quips as he slides his card into the fold with deft fingers.
âWhat are you doing? Put that back!â You glare at him as you grab your card and push it towards the new waiter who had turned back to see what the commotion was about.
âYou put it back! Itâs your birthday, dumbass. Iâm not about to make you pay for any of this.â Sticking your tongue out, you ignore Levi and flap your card out in front of the waiter.
The waiter looks over to you sympathetically before muttering, âHe was faster maâam. Also, not to be impolite or nosy but it is your birthday.â He grabs the checkbook with Leviâs card and runs back into the building. Your eyes land on Levi and heâs watching you with a smug grin. You cross your arms over your chest and stare back.
âWere you planning to pay this whole time?â
âWhat if I was?â
âWell, I wouldnât have come.â Levi rolls his eyes at that.
âJust shut up and let me treat you for your birthday.â You slump back in your chair, defeated but far from dejected. The same thought of âis this a date?â keeps floating through your mind. He paid for it, but that doesnât make it a date. It was just a kind gesture from one friend to another, thatâs all.
âThank you, Levi. I appreciate it. But Iâm paying for the next meal.â You stick your tongue out again in feign defiance.
âYeah, weâll see about that.â He purses his lips but not a single bit of amusement leaves his eyes.
On the way back to the car, you glance over at the park. There are more kids out now, playing and swinging on the playground. You double take as you notice a snow-cone stand to the side of it with a small line, something that wasnât there when you first arrived. You stop and turn to Levi, automatically catching his attention as you do.
âDessert?â You point over to the stall with a wide grin.
âSure. But weâre eating it out here.â He answers faster than you thought he would, so you fumble for a moment as Levi starts off in that direction. He wouldnât tell you, but the reason why he would agree so quickly is because he would give anything to spend more time with you. He glances behind his shoulder, noticing you havenât moved yet.
âAre you coming?â He shoves his hands in his jacket pockets and turns to you with concern. Your grin becomes wider, and you hop over so that youâre standing right next to him. You wonât understand the extent of it until later, but you would follow Levi to the ends of the earth if it meant being with him.
âYes, but Iâm paying.â And then you run off before Levi realizes what you said, his fast paced steps right on your heels a moment later.
.
Levi decides to roll the windows down as he drives off to the next location that he had in mind. Youâre staring at Levi from the passenger seat, arm propped up against the door with the wind blowing through your hair. Youâre lost in your thoughts as you burn into memory the curves of Leviâs side profile when his voice cuts into the silence.
âIs there something on my face?â He glances over at you with a side eye. Heat rises into your cheeks and you shake your head in response. You look back out of your open window at the trees flying by. Again, you find yourself in an unfamiliar part of town. It almost looks residential with a lot of the homes overgrown with ivy and weather damage that happened over time.
âWhere are we going?â
âOur second to last stop, thereâs someone I want you to meet. Then we will head to our last errand before the final destination.â We. Our. Itâs not the first time that heâs used those words, but it never fails to make you giddy.
Levi pulls into another small parking lot, but this time attached to a large beige building. Dozens of arched windows line up evenly throughout the whole structure. Big wide sliding doors under a large blue canopy nestles in the middle. The building itself is symmetrical, both sides sprawled out like the wings of a dove.
âWhat is this place?â
âWelcome to Riverside Assisted Living.â Levi puts the car into park and looks over at you. Thereâs a glimmer of worry in his eyes, his eyebrows knitted yet again. Heâs waiting for a response. You want to reach over and smooth out his face, but instead you offer him a soft smile.
âYour mom?â Never mind the anxiety of meeting someone so important to Levi, the fact that he even wanted you to meet her is enough to make you want to explode. Instead, you swallow all of that down. Whatever his intention, Levi is worried about what you think. Youâre already unbuckling your seat belt and making your way out of the car before he even confirms it with a 'yesâ. When you donât hear Levi moving, you glance back at him over your shoulder.
âAre you coming?â Levi stares at you for a moment before following suit. Once everything is locked, you and Levi make your way over to the front doors. He stops and looks over at you once more. You offer him that same soft smile from a moment ago. You donât know if itâs enough to reassure him, but you would keep trying anyway.
âAh, Mr. Ackerman. Welcome back! Unfortunately, you just missed the cake.â One of the receptionists pipes up from behind his computer. His eyes land on you and a bright, toothy smile replaces his previous kind one. âOh, you brought your girlfriend!â Levi inhales sharply and chokes a little.
âIâm sorry, uh. Friend. Just-â Levi clears his throat. âJust friend.â You smile back at the receptionist and nod in agreement, but youâd be lying if his quick response didnât hurt you a little.
âOh, my apologies! I shouldnât assume.â He chuckles a little and glances back and forth between the two of you before back down to his computer for a moment. âIt seems Ms. Kuchel is enjoying the warm weather today. Sheâs having a good day today, as well.â He slides two visitor stickers on top of the counter in your direction, both with the name âAckermanâ written on it.
Levi hands you yours before slapping his own on his chest. You stare down at it for a moment before doing the same. You assume that these are just to let the employees know who you were here to see, but something in you feels thrilled from wearing his last name on you.
âGreat, thank you.â At that, Levi heads off down the hall. You sign a quick thank you to the kind receptionist and follow Levi before he disappears from view.
Riverside Assisted Living is designed to be very welcoming and warm. Light yellow paints the hallways you both walk down. Miscellaneous vintage paintings break up the monotony - one portrait of a goose in particular makes you double take. It might be a little outdated, but it is lovely nonetheless. Some part of you feels a sense of familiarity, as if you had been here before - or at least something like it.
Levi continues down another hall that ends with a large glass door. Already, you can spot a few people milling about on plush green grass. When Levi reaches the end of the hall, he pulls the door open and holds it with his body, waiting for you to pass through. When you brush past Levi, the scent of faint cologne and fresh laundry wafts with you. As soon as youâre out the door, your mouth practically drops in awe.
The space is a lot larger than you expected it to be. This courtyard is surrounded by the rest of the building on each side and down a slight hill lies the river that cuts through. Itâs separated by a white picket fence, probably to keep patients from accidentally wandering too far. There arenât very many of them out as you initially thought. The ones you can see appear to be enjoying the sunshine in different ways. Levi calls your name, breaking you out of your thoughts.
"This way." Following his voice, you see him down the hill a bit. Levi points over to a small flower garden sitting by the river. Thereâs only one person sitting on a bench overlooking it all, their back to you so all you can see is long black hair blowing in the breeze. Your heart squeezes in your chest but youâre not sure if itâs from excitement or⌠something else.
You catch up with Levi in no time, much to your dismay. As you both walk over to who you assume is his mom, youâre suddenly hyper aware of what youâre wearing. You canât keep your hands from fidgeting at the fabric of your blouse. Suddenly, Leviâs hand is on your wrist, holding it in place with a gentle grip.
âStop. Sheâs going to love you. She already does, even if she wonât remember.â He whispers over to you, his eyes searching into yours earnestly. It takes a few deep breaths, but finally you nod back to him. The corners of his mouth twitch as he lets go of you. He gives you another long look before glancing back over to his mom. Â
âStay here for a moment.â He makes his way over to the bench before stopping short on the unoccupied side.
âKuchel?â Your eyes linger on Leviâs face, and you notice a subtle shift in his demeanor as he calls out for her. You see the woman in question turn and look over in his direction. Youâre only given a glimpse of her side profile, but youâre able to see a semi-blank look on her face like sheâs lost in thought. When her eyes focus, she just stares at Levi.
âCan I help you?â Her voice is soft and sweet, and it stirs something deep within you. Itâs definitely familiar to you. Her expression goes from glassy to confused.
âHi, Iâm Levi. Can I sit with you?â Levi gestures to the empty side of the bench. Kuchel nods and watches as Levi lowers himself down before continuing on, âHow are you today?â
âIâm okay today. The flowers are blooming very nicely.â Sheâs still looking at him wearily, but thereâs a smile on her face now.
âThey are. Which one is your favorite?â Leviâs voice has a gentleness to it that you never imagined was possible. Thereâs a matching smile on his lips now. Again, something youâve never thought youâd see from him.
âItâs quite hard to choose. Theyâre all just so lovely.â She chuckles quietly and looks back over at the flowers dancing in the gentle wind.
âThey are. I heard today is your birthday, is it okay to give you something?â Her birthday? In the recesses of your mind, a memory triggers. Youâre at home and sharing a dessert that Kuchel had bought for the two of you as a gift, Levi and your brother both horsing around in the background. She says something to you and then together, you both blow out the single candle sticking out on top. Thatâs right, you and his mom share a birthday. It must have been a day that Leviâs dad was out, thankfully. Knowing what you know now, it warms your heart to know she was so kind to you when she didnât have to be. Sharing not only her special day, but her dessert that she probably spent a good chunk of her paycheck on to afford it.
âOh is it?â Kuchel looks back over to Levi with suspicion. She shifts on the bench and clasps her hands together on her lap. âSure.â
Levi pulls out a little box he had tucked into his jeans and places it down in the space between them on the bench. She reaches over and takes it with shaky hands. You canât see what it is from your angle, but it must have been nice. Kuchel reaches over and touches Leviâs face and gives his cheek a gentle squeeze.
âYou are such a sweet boy. Thank you, itâs beautiful.â She lets go of Levi to put it back in the box and closes it.
âSpeaking of, Iâd like you to meet someone if thatâs okay? I donât want to overwhelm you if youâre not ready, though.â She just nods in response. With that, Levi glances over at you and beckons you over with a small wave. Taking a deep breath, you straighten up and walk over to Leviâs side of the bench. Kuchelâs eyes snap over to you.
âKuchel, this is my good friend-â She cuts Levi off with your name and it startles you both. You glance down at Levi nervously, not sure what to do. He looks over to his mom and raises an eyebrow.
âMa?â
âOh goodness me. You just remind me of someone I knew a long time ago.â Kuchel chuckles again and then looks over at Levi. Thereâs a clarity in her expression that wasnât there before. âOh is that my little Levi??â The smile on her face is infectious and you would have caught it if you werenât so shocked.
âHey Ma, itâs me.â He reaches over and grabs her hands in his. âYouâre not wrong, this is her.â Levi looks over to you.
âThereâs no way, look how grown she is!â Kuchel suddenly stands up and stares at you with disbelief. You wave at her sheepishly, still not certain of what to do.
âYes, itâs been quite a while since youâve last seen her. Itâs her birthday today too, do you remember sharing it with her?â Levi asks gently. Kuchel steps over to you until sheâs face to face with you. Levi must have gotten his height from her because she stands a couple inches below you. She stares up at your face, inspecting it. Being this close grants you a better look at her features so you study her just the same. Levi is practically a carbon copy of his mom. Everything down to the pouty bottom lip is Leviâs. She whispers your name, familiarity finally coming to her. Before you know it, sheâs pulling you into a bear hug.
Youâre so startled that it takes you a moment, but you eventually reciprocate it just as tightly. Something in you frays. This felt so warm, so comforting. So motherlike. Only when you pull away sniffling do you realize youâve started crying. Kuchel reaches up and wipes your tears with a thumb, completely vexed by your actions.
âWhy are you crying, darling?â
âIâm sorry.â Kuchel watches you sign curiously and then looks over to Levi.
âSheâs mute, but she can hear you. She apologizes.â Levi pipes up behind you.
âOh, honey, look at you! Youâve grown up so much. Happy birthday sweetheart.â She steps back to get a better look at you. âOh my, youâre not a little girl anymore, are you? Are you taking care of yourself?â She grabs you by the shoulders and stares into your misty eyes as she continues to fuss over you. Her words affect you so much that tears start rolling down your face.
âCan I hug you again?â Levi translates for you. Kuchel nods and gives you a big smile before pulling you into another suffocating hug.
.
The rest of the visit felt like a blur. After your initial meeting, you had stepped back to let Levi visit with his mom. The three of you sat by the garden enjoying the breeze and each otherâs company. At one point, Leviâs pinky makes its way to yours in the middle of conversation and he squeezes it gently before letting go like nothing happened. It ended with more big hugs and dragged-out goodbyes. You wouldnât have minded staying a little longer, but Levi reminded you that you both had somewhere to be soon.
You find yourself staring out the window at the trees blurring green. Itâs around early evening by this time, and you fight a yawn threatening to make its way out. The ride itself is silent, not even the radio is playing. Levi breaks it with a gentle voice.
âAre you okay?â You turn over to Levi and nod, offering a smile.
âYeah, just need a moment.â He doesnât respond, which leaves you both in silence again. You fidget with your seatbelt as you stew on what you really wanted to ask.
âItâs okay to ask.â Levi gives you a quick side-eye.
âDoes your mom have dementia?â You spell it out in case he wouldnât recognize the word. A moment passes before Levi speaks again.
âYes. Itâs been progressing quickly.â
âIs this why she was in the hospital back in March?â
âYeah, but it wasnât this bad. Back in December is when she started showing symptoms of it. It took some time to get some answers.â Levi slows down for a red light. He fully turns his head to look over at you. Thereâs an evident darkness not only in his eyes but under them as well. You wonder if heâs gotten any sleep lately.
âSheâs just as lovely as I think I remember. I forgot we share a birthday.â You think back to that memory from earlier. âShe is quite a wonderful person, isnât she?â Levi watches you carefully. Heâs not just tired, thereâs a level of exhaustion there that you just now notice. It takes everything in you to not fling yourself over to him and hold him. Thank goodness for the seatbelt.
âShe really is.â He mumbles softly and looks back to the road. The light turns green, and the car starts rolling again.
âCan I ask why the assisted living place and not with you?â Levi grips the steering wheel tightly and purses his lips. Youâre afraid you might have pushed too hard, but he just sighs.
âIt was her request. She didnât want to burden me with her illness, even though I told her many times it didnât matter to me. Itâs what she wanted.â Levi mutters.
âYouâre a good son. She really loves you.â He chuckles at that.
âSo she says.â
âDoes it hurt to talk about her? We donât have to if you donât want to.â Leviâs face falls a bit. Your heart breaks for him.
âNo, no itâs not that. I just- I donât talk about her much, so. This is different.â
âWill you talk about her more then? If youâd like. Iâd love to listen.â
And so, he does the entire car ride. Even after he made a quick stop at a bakery on the way, he continued without issue. At some point in his stories, he actually starts smiling. One that makes your heart flutter and soar. You twisted in the passenger seat with your head resting against the top of it, staring at Levi while he talks animatedly about the things he and his mom used to get up to. Thereâs a lightness in his eyes and you swear he briefly turned into that little boy you vaguely remember so long ago.
.
For once, youâre in a part of town that you recognize. This is Onyankoponâs neighborhood. All of the houses you pass are all cookie-cutter and are only told apart by the unique decorations that litter every lawn. It was clear you were going to his house, which piques your curiosity.
Youâve only been over for his occasional game nights, something he decided to do once he saw how successful Hangeâs movie nights went. After a bit, Levi slows down in front of a familiar house, the street filled with multiple cars. Fortunately, the driveway is clear, and Levi ends up pulling up into it. Much to your surprise, your sister is standing out waiting, waving their hands up above their hands like they were flagging a plane.
âDamn shorty, took you long enough! Weâve been waiting forever!â Hange screeches the moment you both slide out of the vehicle. Levi grabs the bakery box from the back seat and rolls his eyes once he meets Hangeâs gaze.
âYou asked me to distract. So, I did.â He scoffs then heads through a gate connected to the backyard, disappearing from view.
âWhat are you doing??â You ask as Hange bounds over to you with a wide grin.
âDonât worry about it. Turn around and close your eyes.â You cock an eyebrow at her in disbelief. âTrust me.â It was your turn to roll your eyes, but you do as youâre told. Suddenly, Hangeâs warm hands are covering your eyes from behind. âAnd walk.â
Youâre not sure if they did it on purpose but at one point you end up walking face first into the fence. They apologize through a fit of giggles and you attempt to kick at her from behind, missing of course. Eventually, Hange stops you. There are a myriad of noises coming from a lot of different places and you would be lying if you said you werenât a little overwhelmed.
âDonât open your eyes until I say, okay?â You nod and then feel Hangeâs hands pull away. A couple beats and then you hear them shout, âOkay, now!â When you open your eyes, it takes a moment for them to adjust from the abrupt change in brightness. But when they do, youâre again for what feels like the millionth time today, at a loss for words.
Nanaba, Onyankopon, Furlan, Moblit, and Hange all have their arms wide open as they yell âSURPRISE!â. Miche and Erwin are off to the side, standing by a grill, and theyâre both smiling as well. Levi is nowhere to be found. A hand goes to your mouth as you stare in bewilderment at the rest of the yard.
The entire backyard is strung up with fairy lights and multi-colored streamers. On the back fence, a large white screen is pinned up and in front of that on the grass are multiple bean bags and spread-out blankets. Thereâs a long table tucked into that corner with a popcorn maker and a ton of other snacks that you couldnât make out from here. The other corner has a table filled with presents of various sizes and colors. In the center, thereâs a large rectangular table all set with dishware, cutlery, and various covered platters. A cookout and movie night it seems like, and you couldnât be more thrilled.
You jump excitedly and run to your friends, hugging each of them tightly. No amount of thank yous could cover the gratitude you felt for each of them.
âMan, it took you so long to get here! Did Levi hold you hostage?â Nanaba jokes. She has a beer in hand and sheâs already pink in the face from it. She must be a couple drinks in, you guess. You shake your hand in a âmaybeâ gesture at her and she just laughs.
âHe didnât wreck my car, did he?â Erwin laughs down at you as you run over. Miche ruffles your hair, and you smack him away with a grin. Both of them also have a beer can in hand, laid back in airy casual clothes. You turn to Erwin and shake your head in response only to raise an eyebrow at his apron. The words âDedicate your heart to grillingâ in large red letters decorate the front.
âWhat do you think? It looks good, right?â Erwin tugs at it and wiggles his big brows at you then directs his attention back to the grill, flipping something you canât see from this angle. It smells delicious.
âDid you and Levi have a good time out today?â Miche mutters down to you quietly, taking a swig from his can. Before you can respond, youâre startled by loud voice from behind.
âAh yes, please do tell!â Your sister yells as they saunter over to your little group. They have a plastic tiara in their hands, sunshine glaring off every corner of it. Before you can protest, she slides it into your hair and slaps your hands down when you attempt to move it. Hange wraps an arm around your shoulders when sheâs satisfied then bumps her head against yours gently as she says, âWhat did you and Levi do today?â Even Erwinâs eyes are on you as you shrink back from the sudden focus on you and Levi.
âIt was good. We got lunch together and then we went to visit his mom.â Hange translates for Miche. Erwin, however, stares over at you with shock.
âHe took you to visit his mom?â
âYeah, sheâs quite lovely. We share a birthday.â You get this feeling like Erwin didnât know that. In their many years of friendship, heâs had to have met Kuchel at least once, right? He only hums in thought and continues on with his job.
âThat sounds like a lovely time. Iâm glad he took care of you.â Hange winks and pokes your cheek before letting go of you and turns you to face them. âOkay so here are the plans. Weâre going to mingle, weâre going to eat, weâre going to open presents, and then weâre watching your favorite movie while we eat snacks and hang out. How does that sound?â You pull her into a tight hug in response and she laughs loudly.
âSounds like a yes to me. Hey Erwin, how much longer?â Onyankopon joins in on your little huddle. You pull away from Hange and turn around to see where everyone else is. Moblit and Furlan are both messing with the projector and Nanaba is pulling another drink out of the cooler under the snack table. Levi is still nowhere to be found.
âExcuse me.â You sign quickly before slipping away towards the sliding glass doors that lead into Onyankponâs house.
When you step in, itâs noticeably cooler. âPonâs house is very much a bachelor pad, and you had said so the first time you came over. At least he has style, you think. At first, everything is quiet save for the snap of the door as you close it behind you. You stand there for a moment. Suddenly, your ears twitch at something metal being placed down on a counter in the kitchen. There you are.
When you round the corner, you spot Levi sitting at the island top with a mug in hand as he stares out the kitchen window. He seems lost in thought. His dark eyes trail over to you at your movement but says nothing.
âCan I join you?â He nods and jerks his head to the seat next to him.
âBored already?â Levi says as you sit down. His voice is tired.
âNot necessarily. I just didnât want to celebrate without everyone there.â He takes another sip and hunches forward on the counter onto his elbows.
âDid you want to talk about it, Levi?â He sets his mug down and puts his face in his propped-up hand, tilting his head so that heâs looking at you dead-on. Levi purses his lips.
âI just miss her.â He whispers over at you. You donât resist it this time â you reach over and brush away some of the hair that fell into his eyes. He doesnât jump at your touch anymore, you realize.
âIt must be difficult doing this alone. You donât have to be.â Thereâs a brief moment where youâre both staring at each other before Levi reaches over and lightly grips your wrist in his long fingers, tugging you closer. Theyâre cold, creating goosebumps that pop up all over your arms â or was it the proximity of Levi? Youâre not certain of what might happen next, but you donât resist. His lips part as if to say something but is interrupted by Furlan yelling from the hallway, the increase in volume signifying his quick approach. Levi has already let go and is focusing hard on his mug.
âWhere are you both?! Dinner is ready!â Furlan rounds the corner and stops abruptly as his eyes land on you and Levi. He smirks and leans against the archway. âThere you two are.â
âWeâre coming, jeez. Calm down.â Levi grumbles next to you as he stands up. He walks over to the sink to rinse his mug out. When you glance back over to Furlan, he winks at you and leaves the way he came. Levi steps past you but you reach out and grab his wrist to keep him from leaving. He looks down at you and raises an eyebrow. You made him stop but you donât even know what to say or do next.
âThereâs no need to make them wait for the birthday girl any longer than they already have.â He mutters down to you. He moves his fingers so that theyâre interlaced with yours and pulls you up from your chair with a gentle pull. He stares at you with his cloudy gray eyes before eventually saying, âWe can talk more later.â And then heâs leading you through the house and back out the glass door.
.
Dinner was fun, as it always is with your group of friends. Despite the amount of energy you put into refusing, you were made to sit at the head of the table â with your plastic tiara no less. You ended up not really minding as much as you thought you would. This seat granted you the best spot to watch your friends mess around and chat. Levi wound up being put at the other end of the table, so you were able to catch his eye a couple times throughout. At some point, you had gotten so lost in thought about him that Hange had to throw a chip at you to break you out of it.
âThinking about all the presents we got you?â Hange jokes once you focus on her face.
âJust thinking about how ridiculous yours is going to be.â You stick your tongue out at them.
âOh, you're going to regret that. Clear the plates! ITâS TIME.â Your sister is practically vibrating in excitement. This isnât different from her usual self, but youâd be lying if you said you werenât interested.
You were told to stay in your seat as everyone else cleaned off the table and set it up with the presents. Hange comes by and swipes what you suspect is hers and you assume sheâs going to bring it to you to open it first, but instead she holds it in her arms.
âYes, I know, I usually ask to go first. But not this time.â She grins wickedly. Forget interest, youâre now afraid. You reach for another package with caution, eyeballing your sister.
Itâs small with simple gold wrapping. âErwinâ is written in neat font on the top of it. You glance up at the gift-giver in question. He has chin in his hands as he stares over at you with hard focus. You hate to ruin the presentation, but you canât help as your excitement wins out and you tear into it. A small box with a yellow polaroid camera stares back at you. You sit up straight and smile widely at Erwin as you sign a âthank youâ to him.
âYouâre welcome! You know I got myself one too. Theyâre quite neat, donât you think?â He says boisterously. His reaction makes you laugh as you set it aside to open the next one.
It went like this for the next half hour. You are gifted clothes and travel items, all summer themed. You know that itâs probably because Summer is right around the corner, but thereâs a part of you that feels like these gifts were all coordinated. Thereâs a moment where youâre just side-eying Hange as they hold your gift hostage, but they just shrug their shoulders with a smug grin.
Finally, youâre down to the last one, and by process of elimination, you know itâs Leviâs. You catch his eye at the end of the table again. Heâs leaning back in his chair as he stares over at you, a hint of amusement in his face. Leviâs gift is in the form of a small, blue envelope. You eye him curiously as you flip it open and pull the contents out. A folded slip of paper is the only thing that comes out of it. At first glance once you open it, you notice itâs a printed email from a place called Jinae Community Aquatic Center.Â
This email is to confirm your reserved spot for adult swimming lessons
Your first lesson is scheduled for Saturday, June 3rd at 10:00am.
Location: Pool B
Please bring appropriate swimming gear as well as your filled out forms attached to this email.
We look forward to seeing you then!
-JCAC
You stare over at Levi with bewilderment. Swimming lessons? You knew how to swim, kind of. But this was truly the most random gift out of them all.
âWhat is this?â Hange comes over to you and takes the paper to get a better look at it.
âYeah, Levi, what is this? I thought we agreed youâd get her some floaties?â Hange whines as she stares over at him.
âWell, with the lessons, weâll know she can swim for sure. Floaties not needed.â He shrugs and looks away disinterested.Â
Why would you need swimming lessons?
âWhat is going on?â You stare back up at your sister, puffing your cheeks out in slight annoyance.
âOkay okay, just open this last one. Itâll make sense then.â She places it in front of you on the table and steps back. You look back up at everyone else and theyâre watching in anticipation. As usual, you rip it apart and under the wrapping is a clothing box. Pulling off the lid reveals an envelope on top of sheer stuffing paper. You go for the envelope first, pulling the flap open and revealing the contents.
Inside is another confirmation email, but this time from an international airline. You stand up from your seat quickly as you read the information on it, the chair clattering backwards behind you from the sudden shift in movement. This email confirms flights for four people, all set to take off early on the morning of June 20th. Youâve never heard of this town Liberio before, but you didnât care. It was in a whole other country, and you were going in a month.
You jump up and down in excitement then tackle Hange with a hug before letting go and signing, âWho is all coming?â
âTake a guess, goofball.â She shifts her gaze to Erwin and Levi. âI tried roping in everyone else but apparently, they have âbetterâ things going on.â She stares at Onyankopon with a teasing glare.
âYou just had to schedule it the same time Iâm going back home to visit.â âPon rolls his eyes.
âHange didnât even tell me until like a week ago. Besides, Iâm kind of out of vacation days.â Furlan chirps in, rubbing the back on his neck awkwardly.
When you look over at Miche, he just shrugs and says, âBeach towns arenât really my thing. Saves me some money.â
âListen, I wanted to!! But,â Nanaba glances over to Miche and for a split second you pick up on a vibe you hadnât before. You squint your eyes at Miche, but he just avoids your eyes, opting to take a drink of his beer instead. âPrior commitments, sorry.â She looks over at you apologetically.
âItâs okay. This is perfect! Weâre going to have so much fun!â You fling your arms around Hange again and squeeze tight.
âThereâs one more present from me. Pull it out.â That wicked gleam is back in her eyes.
You pull back the paper between pinched fingers like thereâs a bomb under it. Something pink catches your eye. You touch it and itâs a soft fabric. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you pull it out all the way and regret it immediately. Dangling from a hanger is a two-piece baby pink bathing suit. A very exposed and suggestive one, at that. Across the way, you see Levi spitting out the drink he had just taken a sip of with his eyes bulging out of his face. Nanaba laughs and wolf whistles.
âHange, câmon. Really?â Erwin chastises Hange with a very bright pink face â it almost matches the suit.
âWhat? I think sheâll look really cute in it.â You place it gingerly back in the box and cover it up. Your face heats up from embarrassment. You cut your eyes over to your sister and make a face at her.
âWhat?! She will!!â With that, you quickly tuck the box away with your other gifts and grab Hange by the face with both hands to get their attention.
âThank you. But if youâre done embarrassing me, can we go watch a movie now?â Hange laughs and grabs you by the arm before pulling you with her to the beanbags.
.
It takes a while for the late spring sun to start setting, but eventually you find yourself sitting in a cushy bean bag snuggled up with your sister picking at a shared bowl of popcorn. The final decision on the movie landed on you since âitâs your special dayâ. You honestly didnât care so you clicked on the first thing that passed by â an action thriller. With cars racing and buildings exploding, it would at least be fun for everyone.
Moblit and Furlanâs set up was on par with a drive-in, possibly even better. They had somehow connected a surround sound system with noise-sensitive LED lights creating a very immersive experience. With every explosion, the lights would flash a matching orange mixed with a resounding boom. Unfortunately, even that couldnât hold your attention as your mind wandered early on into the film.
For one, the news of the beach trip next month really threw you for a loop. Hange had explained the circumstances of how the trip came to be as you all waited for the sun to set enough.
Apparently, Erwin had this trip planned for a while as an anniversary vacation for him and Carly back before November happened. He brought it up to Hange because unfortunately a lot of it was non-refundable and he didnât want it to go to waste. Erwin had initially offered to gift it to you and your sister as a surprise but Hange being Hange, they had talked Erwin into extending the trip and coming with.
From there, your mind wanders to Levi â as it tends to do with everything. You couldnât believe that Erwin and Hange had successfully talked him into closing the shop for a week and a half so he could make it too. Even though you had only known Levi for a short time, you knew this was not his thing. The traveling, the summer heat, especially the crowds. And yet, he was willing to come. You have a sneaking suspicion as to why.
You feel a stare burning into the back of your head and when you look back to see who itâs from, you catch Levi watching you from a couple bean bags over. You raise your hand in a small wave and he does the same. Thereâs that knot in his eyebrows again and you wonder what he might be thinking about. Probably the same thing you are. Levi holds your gaze a little longer before he shifts in his seat and looks away.
Thereâs something going on between the two of you, you canât deny that. And you think he knows that too. Part of you wonders why heâs taking so long to say anything but then again, so are you. But you donât know how much longer you can hold yourself back anymore. If it wasnât for the self-doubt clawing in your chest, you would go over to him and kiss him right now.
.
Levi doesnât get home until around one in the morning, not like that bothered him much. He was accustomed to being up at weird hours. Fresh out of the shower, Levi runs a towel through his wet hair as he sits himself down at his desk chair. He settles into the soft cushion and leans back, closing his eyes for a moment.
Thatâs twice now that Levi almost kissed you.
Though, it would have been much more if he acted on his impulsive thoughts.
He rubs his eyes with the heels of his palm and groans. These feelings for you were starting to consume every part of him and he didnât know how much longer he could hold out. It was coming to the point where if he doesnât talk to you about it soon, he might combust. Thereâs no mistaking how you both just make sense together, as stupid as it sounds to him.
âIt must be difficult doing this alone. You donât have to be.â
Thereâs always been a part of him that knows he doesnât have to do it alone. Even after years of figuratively carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, he knew. But getting out of that mindset was not something he thought he had an option to do - until you. Heâs never had someone offer to be there for him. Granted, he never lets anyone in like that in the first place. But as startling as it is, he was okay letting those walls down â if itâs for you. You were offering to take the weight of the sky with him so that he didnât have to suffer alone.
Sitting up, his fingers move fast as he grabs his phone from the desk and clicks on your name. It rings once before the line clicks open. Thereâs silence of course, but your soft breathing is enough to ensure that you were there. A moment passes and his phone buzzes with a message.
âAre you okay?â
âI just didnât want to be alone.â Levi mutters. He hears something scratch on the other side and then another buzz.
âIâll be here as long as you need.â
You ended up falling asleep about half an hour later, but Levi didnât mind. Your deep breathing from the other end calms him so much so that before he knows it, he wakes up in his chair to the early morning light filtering into his bedroom. The line is still on, and youâre still there.Â
âž Previous Chapter: April âž Next Chapter: June - Part One
#Skys blog recovery#this is ported from my old fandom blog chaotic-on-main#I did not steal these I swear lol theyâre mine#attack on titan#attack on titan fanfiction#shingeki no kyojin#shingeki no kyojin fanfiction#levi ackerman#levi ackerman fanfiction#fanfiction#fluff#levi x reader#levi ackerman x reader#erwin smith#hange zoe#levi x fem!reader#aot#aot fanfiction#levi ackerman x you#snk fanfiction#long fic#snk#aot fluff#attack on titan fluff#attack on titan levi#unspoken words#modernau#furlan church#cw assault#onyankopon
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E-DATERS! | #1 men hater
SYPNOSIS. moving back to korea from america, y/n is excited to reunite with her old friends and make new ones. what she doesnt expect is to find herself reuniting with her âex-boyfriendâ from 10 years ago who she dated over minecraft. what makes things worse? he happens to be her favorite streamer who she has been pinning after for years.
written chapter + screenshots below! (not proof read)
beomgyu had never felt this fearful in his life.
of course, he had his honorable mentions. such as when he accidentally sent a kid to the nurses office for pushing him off the swingset in the fourth grade, resulting in his mom taking away his computer for two weeks.
there had also been the time when he overslept and ended up missing his csat, fearing he wouldnt be able get into college. not that it mattered anyways considering he dropped out 3 months into his classes.
and most recently, when he had accidentally made fun of a streamer with almost 4 times the following he had, causing a terrible fan war over twitter with the hashtag #CANCELBEOMGYU trending for an entire week.
but yet none of them, could ever compare to the amount of fear that he had felt at this very moment.
because absolutely nothing could be worse than a plummeting ego and pure embarrassment to be the consequences of his actions, in which you managed to figure him out with not even a week that has passed.
as his body turned cold and his hands clammy at your follow up question, beomgyu mustered all the strength that he had in order to press the mute button on his keyboard, before letting out an ear piercing scream.
âhow are we going to fix this?!â he cried out, burrowing his face in his hands.
âdont worry, this is fixable!â heeseung nervously laughed. âi can just make up some lame excuse andââ
âwhy did you mute?â your voice had interrupted, heeseung giving beomgyu an unsure glance before pressing the unmute button.
"sorry, my dog started to bark really loudly," heeseung replied, giving beomgyu the side eye. "miss me?"
beomgyu's mouth pressed into a thin line as he stared blankly at heeseung who held in his laughter at your stuttering protests.
"your solution is flirting with her?" beomgyu mouthed questionably, his lips molding into a grimace.
âjust trust meâ heeseung mouthed back, returning his attention back to you to attempt to get your mind off of the previous slip up.
however, beomgyu in fact did not trust him nor had any reason to considering it was him who had gotten in this situation. yet, he leaned against the backrest of his chair nervously knowing that there was nothing he could do. his mouth went dry as he sat thinking about every single possible scenario that could come out of this, hardly any of them with a good ending.
âi need to go to the restroom, ill be back!â you said, allowing beomgyu to sigh in relief. âbut dont think that i forgot about how you knew about beomgyu.â following your sentence, the mute icon appeared next to your username, causing beomgyu to leap up in his chair to mute his mic as well.
âokay new plan, how about we gaslight her? we can say that she told me but she just forgot?â beomgyu brought up excitedly.
âdo you remember what last happened when you gaslighted a girl? you almost got cancelledââ
âokay nevermind!â beomgyu grumbled, folding his arms over his chest. âor how about we just say its a lucky guess? i mean i do have a pretty large following, it wouldnt be that hard to guess that!â
âbeomgyu you cant expect her to believe that. your ideas are almost as stupid as the one that we are currently in!â heeseung replied in annoyance, turning his suggestion down almost instantly.
âfine!â beomgyu threw his hands in the air, running his fingers through the strands of his hair in frustration. âwhy dont we just admit that i am beomgyu, we reveal this whole entire plan, andââ
âyou can not be backing out now!â
âwell what else can i do?!â
âi dont know, something! youre thought she was easy to get with because shes obsessed with you!â
beomgyu paused for a second, an idea lighting up in his head as he heard the latter of heeseungs sentence. his fingers were working faster than his brain, as it automatically reached for his phone to press on the twitter application to search for your private account.
âyou didn't tell me she was that obsessed,â heeseung said, peeking over beomgyus shoulder to take a quick glance at his phone, catching sight of the manifestations of 'marrying beomgyu' on your bio and your header. âyou sure this isnt a fan account?â
âno, its definitely her.â beomgyu said, shoving his phone back into his pocket. ânew plan. we tell her we stalked her account!â
âcan you imagine how humiliated she's going to feel?â heeseung replied, his mouth twisting into a frown. "i want to get out of this situation as much as you do, but the last thing i want to do is make her feel like crap for being a fan."
âoh please, it cant be that deep," beomgyu emphasized. "her being exposed would just leave her with embarrassment for at most, a week. but if I'm exposed? i cant let myself suffer like that!"
âman i really do hope that yeonjun kicks yourââ
âim back!â you announced, causing heeseung and beomgyu to jump in their seats at the abrupt noise.
âoh hi!â heeseung beamed after unmuting himself, giving beomgyu one final glance before resuming. âalso, i know this might be embarrassing, but I found out about beomgyu through your private twitter.â
âwhat was that?!â beomgyu whispered-yelled, his eyes wide in judgment. âyou could have given her a chance to breathe instead of violating her right when she got back!â
"i was just following what you told me to say!" heeseung replied defensively.
"yeah, but not like that!"
as beomgyu and heeseung continued to argue amongst themselves, what they failed to catch was the sound of you leaving the call, snapping the both of them out of their heated conversation.
the two simultaneously glanced at both monitors, eyeing the leave message from the game, as well as the fact that you were no longer present in the call.
âdid she just leave?â
previous | masterlist | next
TAGLIST. @openingssequence @suburbiataehyung @shinypieceofgarbage @koeuh @captivq @beowmgyu @qluvrv @ikaeryn @whippedforbeomgyu @i8lhee @heyanonymous123 @vanicogh @sulliefimmie @tae-ology @milkycloudtyg @ox1-lovesick @soobsfairy444 @sulliefimmie @jaxavance @peachenle @pokyloky @peachybeom @alpha-mommy69 @fatoompie @ashxxgyu @soobsdior @viagumi @rikismiel @luvsoobs @lovejunz @wccycc @enha-cafe @kaeslily @hiddenboopy @cashew00nut @merendis @reverbtunes @lcvesickgyuzz @dear-dreamie @fragmentationss @chuuinggummy @hafsa-hoofsa-heefs @beomsbeanie @shigamiryuk @soobliss @woncheecks @sserafimez @ahnneyong @ghostfacefricker6969 @flrtsbin @beomomb @cathaerin (closed)
A/N. kind of a mid chapter but anyways beomgyu is a red flag smh
AND SORRY IF THERES SM WRITTEN CHAPTERS IM TRYING TO INCORPORATE MORE SOCIAL MEDIA đ
#beomgyu fanfic#beomgyu imagines#beomgyu smau#beomgyu x reader#txt beomgyu#txt fanfic#txt imagines#txt smau#txt x reader#beomgyu#beomgyu scenarios#txt scenarios#txt oneshots#beomgyu oneshot#txt#beomgyu oneshots#tomorrow x together#tomorrow by together
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Until I Met You - Chapter 34
Chapter 34: Ill Tidings
Pairings: Halsin x Tav
Word count: 3,893
Rating: Currently M, will be Explicit in later chapters.
Chapter 1
Read on AO3
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Summary: Our group of heroes makes their way to the Thorm mausoleum. Halsin is finally reunited with Thaniel. Part 34 of the slow burn fic. Tav and Halsin POVs.
Tags: Slow burn, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual love confessions, eventual smut, angst, implied past rape/non-con and abuse, graphic description of injuries, brief suicidal thoughts.
A/N: A bit of a shorter chapter to bridge some big events, but still some fun dialogue! I don't know about you, but I think Thaniel would be just a little bit of a shit (affectionate) ;) you'll get to see more of him (and Oliver) in upcoming chapters!!
Halsin awoke to find Tav still curled up against him. He guessed they had only been out for a couple of hours. At some point during their trance, she had moved into his lap and was now wrapped in his arms with her head on his chest. The sight made his heart race. Tentatively, he leaned forward and placed a light kiss on the top of her head.
He wanted nothing more than to sit there holding her for the rest of the day. But for now, he needed his focus to return to their shared goal of banishing the Absolute cult from these lands and driving the shadows away for good.
He jostled Tav awake. Her eyelids slowly opened, and she stretched in his arms. She smiled up at him as she shook off the last of her trance. It took her a moment to take in her surroundings, but once she did a familiar redness started to creep over her face. She jumped to her feet, tugging at her long, messy braid.
âOhâŚuhâŚgood morningâŚâ She started to stammer. âIâm sorry I must have drifted off last night. I didnât mean to trap you hereâŚâ Halsin chuckled in response.
âThere is nothing to apologize for, believe me when I say there are worse traps that I have been caught in. But to wake up to such a lovely sight as youâŚâ He held his hand out to her, trying to persuade her to come sit again. âI think I could be convinced to be trapped more often.â
She took his hand and let him lead her down to the ground next to him.
âI meant what I said the other night, Tav,â he started, still holding her hand. âI care for you. My heart and mind have been closed off for so long, I donât know when Iâll be able to open them again.â He let out a deep breath.
âI care for you too, Halsin. And I understand,â she said softly, squeezing his hand. âI canât blame you for not wanting to open your heart to someone who could turn into a mind flayer without a momentâs notice.â Her lower lip was starting to quiver as she looked away from him.
He looked at her, confused. Did she think that was the problem?
âTavâŚâ He moved one hand to cradle her cheek. âThe parasite has nothing to do with this. IâŚâ He looked down at the ground.
âMy mind has been walled off completely by this shadow curse since it was unleashed. Nothing has been able to break through that barrier. Not until you.â
She nuzzled her face further into the palm of his hand.
âIâm afraid I just need some more time before we can be anything more than this.â He looked down at the other hand that was now holding hers.
âBut itâs as I told you before, you should follow your heart just as I follow mine. I would never dream of asking you to save yourself for me, it is not in my nature.â Halsin kept his eyes fixed on their hands.
âMore than anything, I cherish your friendship, your company. And I do not wish to lose that.â
âYou wonât,â Tav assured him as she squeezed his hand.
âIâŚIâm sorry I canât be more for you right now.â
âThereâs nothing to apologize for, love. Youâre more than enough as you are.â
âBut I want to be more I just canât seem to see past the shadowsâŚpast the guilt and the grief.â He let out a frustrated grunt. âI want so badly to be close to you, Tav, but every time I try, I feel something pull me back.â
âI like spending time with you. We can be as close as you like, Halsin. If that means we hold hands or share a hug every now and then, but nothing more, Iâm happy to accept.â
âPerhaps more often than every now and then,â he teased back in a hopeful whisper.
She smiled before leaning forward and pulling him into a hug.
âI can be patient, Halsin. I can wait.â
I can wait.
The words brought tears to his eyes as he hugged her back, grateful that his face was hidden in her shoulder. Her soft strokes in his hair caused him to melt further into her embrace.
But why? Why would she want to wait for him?
âYou just let me know when youâre ready,â she said as she released him. âYou can set the pace, love.â
Gods, why canât I be ready now?
âI will.â
She paused for a moment and took a shaky breath. âAnd should you decide itâs not something you want, then youâll still have me as a friend.â
âThank you,â he whispered back.
Halsin took one of her hands and gave her knuckles a light kiss.
âI should go and check on Thaniel.â He reluctantly pulled away from her. âHe should be awake soon, or so I hope.â
âOf course. Iâll go check the torches around the perimeter.â
âJoin us when youâre done?â
âIâll be there shortly.â She squeezed his hand again as she stood up.
Halsin watched her walk away as he rose from his seat. She turned over her shoulder and caught him staring. Rather than quickly averting their gazes as they had so many times before, they locked eyes for a moment and smiled. A new kind of warmth spread through his chest as she turned away again.
I can wait.
For the first time in so long someone cared about him, not just because they needed something or looked up to him. Because they wanted to be with him, and they wanted to be with him so badly that they would wait for him to be ready.
He just hoped he wouldnât have to keep her waiting for long.
In his tent, Thaniel still remained in a sound slumber. At least his breathing had calmed, and his face looked much more peaceful than it had last night.
âWe did it, Thaniel,â he whispered as the small boyâs soft snores filled his tent. âOliver will be returned to your side, youâll be whole again. I have so much to tell you, my friend.â
He sat and talked to Thaniel as he slept, holding one of his small hands. Telling him of their journey so far, of all the nights he tried to speak with him. He apologized for not making it back to Moonrise sooner, for leaving him in the clutches of the Shadowfell for so long. He told him about Tav, how she saved them.
Over one hundred years had passed since heâd seen Thaniel last, and he still had not changed one bit. As he continued to sleep, Halsin closed his eyes and offered another prayer of thanks to Silvanus for helping him to be reunited with his oldest friend.
A small groan took his attention away from his prayers. When he opened his eyes again, he saw Thanielâs fluttering open as well. Tears started pouring down his face as soon as he saw those eyes filled with the very essence of nature itself.
His irises started as a deep brown, as rich as the soil beneath them before shifting to green, the color of the forest canopy. Small, golden tendrils cut their way through as the sun pierced the leaves of the trees before fading to a soft blue, mirroring that of the sky.
âThaniel?â he asked quietly.
âHalsin SilverboughâŚyou returned. I felt it when you crossed into this land.â
He let out a loud, relieved laugh as Thaniel sat up next to him, it took a great effort from him to do so.
âEasy, my friend.â Halsin helped him up.
âI told the man who was trapped with me to find you. He was a good friend to me while we were prisoners in the Shadowfell.â
âHe found us. He led me to you.â Halsin sniffled and wiped his face on the back of his arm. âThaniel, IâŚIâm so sorry. I wanted to find you that day. I wanted to bring you with us, away from these wretched shadows.â
âIf you would have stayed, you would have been consumed. I am glad you made it to safety. And I knew you would return.â He reached up to rest a hand on Halsinâs cheek. âYou opened your heart, and nature listened.â
âJust as you taught me.â
Sobs took over his body at feeling Thanielâs touch. He reached out and pulled his friend close. Knowing that he never lost faith in him soothed away the guilt that had clawed at his insides for decades.
âI sensed someone else return with you as well.â
âYes, Tav. Sheâs the one I told you about while you slept.â He smiled at the sound of her name on his lips. âShe was here all those years ago as well.â
âCan I meet her?â
âOf course! She should be making her way over here soon.â
Thanielâs tired smile drew forth another laugh from him. The tremendous joy of seeing him alive and well again gave Halsin all the confirmation he needed that he had made the right decision to come back.
The grove and the druids who resided there would recover in his absence, but Thaniel could not have been saved without him. This land could not have been saved had he stayed at the Emerald Grove.
As he sat and talked with Thaniel for a while longer, the young boy suddenly perked up, staring past Halsinâs shoulder.
âHeyâŚâ Tav was approaching his tent with a surprised look on her face. âYouâre awake.â
âIs this her?â Thaniel turned to him to ask.
âYes, this is Tav. Tav, this is Thaniel,â he could barely choke the words out he was so excited to introduce them.
Halsin beamed as she knelt down to take Thanielâs outstretched hand.
âThe druid Halsin spoke to me while I slept. He told me how you fought shadows and risked your life to save us. You have my thanks.â Thanielâs voice was soft and hoarse, still weak from his time in the Shadowfell.
âHappy to help.â Tav smiled as she patted his hand.
âBut there is one final task to be done. One final anchor that holds the curse to these lands. For my land to heal, Ketheric Thorm must die.â
âI understand,â she whispered back to him.
âI remember your face.â Thanielâs other hand reached up to touch Tavâs cheek. âI saw it here the day I was whisked away to the Shadowfell. You were running.â
She nodded back at him.
âThank you for coming back.â                                   Â
Tav smiled as Thanielâs hands dropped back to his side.
âGet some rest, Thaniel. Weâll take it from here.â Tav brushed a few hairs from his forehead.
Halsin stood watching them, an overwhelming feeling of relief spreading throughout him. Seeing his two dear friends meet was more than he could have ever hoped to experience over the past century.
âYou were right, Halsin,â Thaniel smiled up at him, âshe is beautiful.â
His eyes went wide, and he immediately blushed at Thanielâs words, even more so when he saw the way Tav bit down on her lips to keep from smirking.
âYouâre too sweet, Thaniel.â Tav tapped his nose before standing back up.
âYes, so sweet.â Halsin scolded him playfully through gritted teeth. Thaniel just grinned back at him with a smug twinkle in his eyes. Despite the teasing, he couldnât help but feel thankful that Thanielâs mischievous side had made it out of the Shadowfell unscathed.
Tav took his hand and ushered him back toward the fire. He turned to wave at Thaniel over his shoulder.
Everyone else was just waking for the day, taking sleepy strides toward the fire for their morning meal.
âMorning, soldier. Whatâs on the agenda today?â Karlach hopped up from her seat to greet them.
Tav looked back to his tent at Thaniel who had now been joined by Oliver. The two fey boys sat together playing a clapping game with their hands. The slow, owlish turn of her head as she faced them again revealed a darkened expression.
âWeâre going to kill Ketheric Thorm.â
***
Tav had prepped her gear for the day, checking the tension in her bow, the clasps of her armor, her stock of potions. She went over everything twice, dragging her feet to keep her from her responsibilities this morning.
But Halsin was waiting for her when she emerged from her tent.
âAre you ready?â he asked, his voice low and solemn.
âI need to talk to Arabella before we do anything else,â she sighed.
âIâll join you.â
Arabella was in her usual spot near Withers. Despite being in their camp for days, she still hadnât exhausted her repertoire of questions. The sight threatened to break her resolve, she found herself not wanting to crush that curiosity today. How unlucky for her though that Halsin was there to make sure she saw it through.
âHey, you,â Arabella greeted them in a cheery voice. âI donât sâpose you found anything out about mum and pops, did you?â
Tav knelt down to her level. Dread maintained its clawed grip in her chest.
âArabella,â she sighed, placing a hand on her shoulder, âthereâs no easy way to say this, love. We found your parents, but they were already dead.â
âWhat?â Arabellaâs smile faded away.
âIâm sorry, little one,â Halsin said from behind Tav.
âIâŚI donât believe you.â She took a step back, causing her tail to curl loosely around her leg and Tavâs hand to drop.
Tav tried to reach out for her, but she stepped away again.
âNo!â she sobbed. âGet away from me, go!â
âArabella, Iâm soââ
âLEAVE ME ALONE!â Arabella cut her off to scream before running away to the other side of the camp.
Tavâs shoulders slumped forward as she ran away. She wanted to chase after her, to tell her that everything would be okay in the end. Â Arabella had already endured so much, Tav hated to be the one to deliver even more ill tidings. She leaned onto Halsinâs arm as soon as he knelt next to her.
âSo much death in these few days. Tev, Arabellaâs parents, so many refugees and HarpersâŚâ Tav was still preoccupied watching Arabella from across camp. She had curled into a ball, still sobbing into her knees pulled tight against her chest. Any attempt to go comfort her had been unsuccessful, but Karlach had at least managed to leave a small bowl of food next to her.
Eventually, Scratch made his way over to her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and cried into his fur, snuggling up against him in the dirt.
âIt has been a difficult start to our time here, yes,â Halsin agreed, âbut remember there has also been life flourishing even among the darkness.â
âI suppose.â
âEveryone at Last Light is alive because of you, my friend. You were able to save many of them from a terrible fate at Moonrise, youâve given Arabella a safe place to stay, and you helped me bring Thaniel back.â
Tav wiped away the tears spilling down her cheeks.
âI do not know how many times Iâll have to say this, but it bears repeating until the sentiment sticks.â Halsin took both of her hands in his. âYou are far too hard on yourself, Tav. Despite the incredible feats youâve accomplished in such a short time you still donât think youâve done enough. I know there is still a long fight ahead of us, but do not downplay what you have achieved thus far.â
âYouâŚyou said âusâ just now,â she whispered.
âOf course,â he smiled back at her, âthis is our fight, Tav. I promised you my aid, and you shall have it.â
âThen I guess we should get moving,â she sighed.
Halsin helped her to her feet, keeping a gentle hold on one of her hands as they walked out of camp.
The party started their day at Last Light Inn, checking in with the forces there for any potential updates.
Tav and Halsin informed Jaheira of their success with Thaniel as well as their intention to go to the mausoleum next. She let them know that the forces at Moonrise had been strangely quiet. They were no longer venturing out into the shadows, instead gathering their numbers at the towers.
Karlach and Wyll took on the unfortunate task of letting the other tieflings know of Komira and Lockeâs fates. Arabella was still unwilling to talk with her this morning before they left, but she also didnât seem willing to leave their camp.
Everyone else milled around the inn, trading and conversing with the others sheltering there. The Harpers and tieflings were generous enough to provide them with additional supplies for the upcoming fights. Special arrows, potions, and scrolls to get them through the next few days.
âAh, there you are, I was wondering when you might make your way back here.â Tav heard a familiar voice call out to her.
She turned around to see Barcus Wroot standing behind her, a small package held in front of him.
âAs promised, a small token of my appreciation for your efforts.â He held it out to Tav, who took it graciously.
âThatâs kind of you Barcus, thank you. Something tells me weâll need all the help we can get.â
She opened the small box to see aâŚbomb? There was also a small pile of gold.
âI call it the Brilliant Retort! A rather powerful explosive that would be sure to change the tide in any battle.â
She smiled back at him, but his face was distant.
âIs everything alright, Barcus? I thought youâd be happier now that Wulbren is back.â
âAh, yes, wellâŚâ Barcus cleared his throat. âIâm afraid Wulbren isnât much for speaking at this moment. Perhaps once we reach Baldurâs Gate, heâll feel more inclined.â
âHe wonât even speak with you? After youâve travelled halfway across the godsdamned continent to find him? After you were enslaved in the Underdark on the way?!â Tav heard her voice rising.
She glanced around the inn, trying to catch a glimpse of him so she could give him a piece of her mind.
âOh, itâs just Wulbren being wellâŚWulbren. He has been through a lot, after all. Iâm sure everything will work itself out in the end.â
Unsuccessful in her search, Tav pursed her lips. âYou know where to find me if it doesnât.â
âThat I do,â Barcus nodded, âIâm sure youâll have the path forward cleared soon enough. Iâll wait here with the others for your next bout of heroics to come to an end.â
âThank you, Barcus, for this.â Tav held up the small package before stashing it away as the rest of their adventuring party joined them. âWeâll talk soon.â
He turned to slink away, his shoulders slumped and his feet dragging across the floor.
âAlright, soldier, ready to get this show on the road?â Karlach bopped up next to her, slinging an arm around her shoulders.
âAs Iâll ever be.â
***
Halsin shuddered as they made their way past the House of Healing. In this area of town, the shadows were especially dark and hungry. Despite the pixie blessing keeping them at bay, he could feel how they longed to seep into his very soul, to drag him down into the abyss with them.
Bones and armor littered the ground around them. Graves half-dug and empty lined every small plot of land. The bodies meant to fill them were likely among the scattered piles of bones, abandoned once that terrible darkness sprung forth from the tomb nearby.
The pathway leading up to the crypt was still familiar, even among the shadows. His last march here all those years ago came to the front of his mind. Members of Harpers and the Emerald Enclave working together to lay Ketheric Thorm to rest, to forever remove his blight from the world.
Halsin approached the opening to the mausoleum, his feet feeling heavier with each step. All along the outside were remnants of runes and glyphs, all meant to keep Thorm sealed away.
The door to the mausoleum had been obliterated when the curse was unleashed. The iron gates magically locked, bound by powerful rituals and spells to keep the entire resting place of the Thorm family isolated from the world. Seeing their state now, Halsin realized just how futile their attempt had been. The rungs of the gates were warped and twisted, poking out in every direction leaving a gaping hole in the entryway.
He ran his fingers along the rocky cliffside. They caught on the grooves that had been carved by him and his mentor. When he closed his eyes, he could still feel the approving pat on the shoulder he had given Halsin when he finished etching his piece of the sigil.
Tav stood nearby, studying a few Harper runes.
âHard to believe these are still here,â she mused. âEspecially with what little good they did.â
âI remember carving them, feeling satisfied. We were already mourning of course, so many lives had been lost before making our way here.â Halsin paused to take a deep breath. âBut there was at least a happiness of knowing we had succeeded. That the remaining Dark Justiciars were being fought back as we sealed Ketheric Thorm away for good.â
âYes, thatâs unfortunately where my squad was fighting. I suppose the lucky part was that we were further from the strongest of the shadows.â She shuddered at the memory.
âMaster Alwin fell quickly,â he said softly. âI had toâŚâ
Halsin saw the understanding look in Tavâs eyes even through his tear-blurred vision.
âI had to cut down his corpse.â
He sighed as he felt Tavâs fingers intertwine with his own.
âIâm so sorry,â she whispered back. âI donât wish that on anyone.â
âThis small area looks like a battlefield in its own right,â Wyll remarked as he studied the piles of bones and rusted armor around them.
âIt was of sorts.â Halsin turned to face him, drying his eyes in the process. âThe curse sprang forth from the mausoleum, decimating everything in its path. Those of us that survived the initial wave did so out of sheer luck.â
Gale whistled as he inspected the mangled iron gate. âIf the state of that entryway is any indicatorââ
A sudden smell of sulfur in the air caused them all to freeze.
âOur hero thought but of treasure ahead, did not consider the peace of the deadâŚâ
The sound of weapons unsheathing echoed in the air at the unexpected intrusion. They whipped around to see Raphael standing behind them.
âThrough the dark she went creeping, and awoke what was sleeping.â
âA warning? Oh, Raphael, donât tell me youâre worried about us,â Tav shot back with a sweet smile.
âMerely protecting my assets, my dear,â he assured her with a shallow bow. âI will admit Iâve grown quite fond of you, in my own way. I thought it would be only fair to warn you about the dangers ahead.â
âOh? And what would be the cost of this warning? Or are you just feeling particularly altruistic today?â
âNo cost, just a simple proposition between friends. You help meâŚâ Raphael turned his attention to Astarion.
âI help you.â
#oops I forgot to post this here when I published on ao3 sorry y'all#it just means you'll get the next chapter real fast!#bg3#bg3 fanfiction#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate iii#halsin x tav#bg3 halsin#halsin fanfic#halsin silverbough#oakflower
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Hayffie Post-Mockingjay Multi-chapter, Rated M
Four years have passed since the end of the war when Effie returns in to Haymitchâs life once again. An old friendship is renewed. Will it lead to something more?
Meanwhile Panem has entered a new era. The rebellionâs over, the borders are open but in the shadows, anger and mistrust are smoldering. Something that will affect Haymitch and Effieâs life in a way they never saw coming.
Author's note: Happy Hayffieweek! I won't technically participate but at least you get a ToS chapter. :) A big thank you and a big hug to you sweethearts reading and responding to this story.
You're the best and I'm so grateful! If you were here I'd follow in the prep team's footsteps and invite you over for tea and a batch of Peeta's yummiest cookies. ;)
Chapter 49, In vino veritas
*ring ring*
Hello, this is Effie Trinketâs answer phone. I canât pick up at the moment but do leave a message and I will call you back. Until then: have a very very nice day! *peep**ring ring*
Hello, this is Effie Trinketâs answer phone. I canât pick up at the moment but do leave a message and I will call you back. Until then: have a very very nice day! *peep* *ring ring*
Hello, this is Effie Trinketâs answer phone. I canât pick up at the moment but âŚ
*click*
Hello? ⌠um, helloo?
Hi Octavia âŚ
Oh, there you are! I was getting really worried about you! Been calling for almost five minutes.
Sorry. Itâs ⌠I was in the bathroom.
Of course you were. Silly young me! Iâm getting ready here too. You all set? Such a thrilling day! Arenât you so excited? Oh, the twins will LOVE the Summer Breeze! We canât bring them on any of the roller coasters of course. Flavius always puke anyway. But there are still plenty of âbaby-friendlyâ rides to go around. The Love Tunnel. Lucretiusâs Magic Carpet. The teacups. Hey, maybe itâll even help with your little problem? And we couldnât have asked for better weather, right? Everythingâs perfect! Octavia, listen âŚ
But before anything else, I need your advice on something. Iâm sitting by my vanity â as we speak â and I cannot for the life of me decide which earrings to wear! On the one hand, Iâve got these spectacular neotropical scarlet macaws. You know, the famous red, blue and yellow parrot? Gorgeous. Obviously! But then I also own a pair of silver sea turtles with amethysts and well ⌠you see my conundrum. What do you think? Which one of these will make me the prettiest girl at the fair?
I ⌠I wouldnât know âŚ
Oh, donât sell yourself short! Next to me and Flavius and Venia, youâre by far the number one expert on beauty! Come on, Effie, this is important to me! I canât show up looking ghastly.
Course not ⌠you âŚ
Iâm leaning toward the birds, naturally. You know, because colors are so colorful and fun. But then again, if I save the turtles for the Aquarium, wonât it be a clichĂŠ? Maybe I should go with the amethysts after all. But if I do, what if people think ⌠Octavia, look ⌠I ⌠I know how excited you are about today but ⌠I donât think I can make it.
Wait, what?
I donât feel very well and the twins ⌠they arenât even dressed to go out yet.
Are you ill? *gasps* Itâs not contagious, is it? Because I cannot under any circumstances be sick this week.
No, no. Donât worry. Itâs just a migraine.
Have you had enough to drink today? Maybe youâre dehydrated? Donât worry. Flavius and Venia and I will take the twins for a walk and you can treat yourself with a nice, long nap. Itâll invigorate you in no time.
Thank you, but I feel I must take this day for myself. Raincheck? Doesnât mean you three canât have fun.
But it wouldnât be the same without you! Or the children! *tsks* Effiie! We had it all planned out!
Iâm sorry.
Flavius will be so disappointed! He wanted to spin the chocolate wheel. *gives a heavy sigh* I guess, weâll just have to try and find something else to do, somehow. But it wonât be as fun. Take care of yourself, sweetie.
You too. Give my love to the others.
Mm. As soon as Iâve figured out how to break it to them. What a day. No cotton candy. No stuffies for the twins. Nothing. *sighs again* Bye, Effie dear. Get well soon.
Bye.
*toot toot*
xXx
â⌠and they lived happily ever after.â
Effie whispered the words, lying on her side next to them on the bed.
Sandy hair fell over Ianâs forehead when he rolled in toward her, seeking his motherâs closeness and warmth. Effie dropped a butterfly kiss to his skin.
The girl gave a soft whine. Crinkled her face up from whatever dream she was having. Her chest rose and fell in puffy little breaths as she opened and closed her fists.
âItâs OK, preciousâ, Effie whispered. Ever so gently she caressed a light fingertip between Amyâs closed eyes and down her nose.
A trick that Sae once taught her. It never failed to help settle the girl down. That and papa Haymitchâs strong, safe embrace. âItâs OK to sleep. Iâm here. Mamaâs here. Everything will be alright.â
Her own eyelids felt dipped in lead. What she wouldnât do to just crawl under these covers and sleep the day away. Today and the rest of the week, for that matter.
She knew she shouldnât have lied to Octavia. About the migraine. But what else could she say?
Certainly not the truth. âIâm sorry Octavia but Haymitch is slowly destroying his brain with alcohol as we speak and if you drag me into an amusement park for three hours Iâll end up on the news, having a nervous breakdown right in front of all those poor chocolate-sticky children. My own included.â
No. It was better this way. Better for all involved.
She nuzzled Ianâs skin. Caressed Amyâs hand between her thumb and forefinger.
âWhat are they doing now, you think?â she whispered to her childrenâs sleeping faces. âUncle Flavius and aunt Octavia and aunt Venia. Enjoying a ride on the Ferris Wheel perhaps?â
She saw it as clearly as she did Amy and Ian.
The three of them, snuggled together in a passenger car. Heading for the place of birds. Giggles. Chatter. Bowls of buttered popcorn, warm to the touch. And down below: a spectacular view of the city. The river. The distant Capitol mountains.
Because of course they never cancelled. She didnât believe it for a second. Theyâd been looking forward to this all week long. Especially Flavius. And the tickets were already bought and paid for.
Maybe Haymitch is right, she thought unhappily. Maybe they will grow tired and move on.
The possibility stung, but who could blame them? She hadnât exactly been fun company lately.
R-i-i-ng!
The bell only just managed to break through her haze.
Not the phone. The front door. Far, far away â in a different life it seemed. Effie closed her eyes. Curled into the twins. Like a baby still in the womb. Nose in Ianâs soft, angel hair. Hand around Amyâs.
Her mother all but cleared her throat, telling her to go get the door, but Effie shrugged her off.
Just this once, she wasnât going to care. Whoever it was, whatever they wanted â it could wait. Ill-mannered? So be it.
R-i-i-ng!
Her brows came together, eyes still promptly shut.
Itâs not the prep team, she thought, despite herself. Way too discreet.
Their rings were always forceful. Insistent. Headache or no.
Couldnât be Haymitch either. Doorbells equaled decorations in his book. He walked straight in.
That day when he showed up at her doorstep, out of the blue, hours before they made love in a bed for the first time, heâd pressed the bell. But that was a rare thing.
A sort of honeymoon treatment he definitely gave up on after sheâd slept with him long enough to have his babies.
Maybe itâs Mrs Pluckrose.
Effie swallowed a sigh.
Yes, her delightful neighbor. Going on and on about how someone didnât bother to mow their lawn this week and âwe uphold a certain standard around here, Ms Trinket, in case you forgotâ.
R-i-i-ng!
Oh, go away. Eyes squeezed shut, Effie pressed her lips together, willing her to leave. Just let me sleep.
Maybe the person â whoever it was â heard her thoughts, for a fourth ring never followed.
Effie caressed her daughterâs hair, breathing a sigh of relief. Silence resumed. She had almost gathered her thoughts when,
Tap-tap!
Startled, her eyes flew to the window.
Sheâd pulled the curtains shut earlier but behind them â a shadow was moving. Face shrouded in darkness, silhouetted by the brilliant sun.
Heart pounding, Effie sat up in bed.
âWho is it?â
And on the other side of the glass, a woman replied,
âDonât be alarmed, maâam. Iâve just got a delivery for you.â
Effie inched the curtain aside. Then some more.
Face tilted, the lady smiled as they came eye to eye.
âThought someone was homeâ, she said. âWhat with the stroller out front.â
Effie blinked at the beaming lady, standing there in her flower bed.
Stout. Burly. Dressed in a lavender uniform and carrying what looked like some kind of gift basket wrapped up in cellophane and tied with ribbons.
She looked about Veniaâs age. Dark skin. Silver mascara. Purple hair gathered in a ponytail.
A name was stitched on the side of her chest. Effie squinted at the letters. âBriar Roseâ.
Briar Rose! Same as Snowâs youngest daughter.
âOh, donât hold it against meâ, the lady said lightly when she saw her look. âWe donât all get to choose our own names. Besidesâ, she added, âthe story it derives from goes back way beyond the Snowâs dynasty.â
Effie hesitated, then reached for the hooks on the window. Opened it ever so carefully.
âI just put my babies downâ, she said, under her breath.
The woman called Briar Rose, nodded.
âIâll make it brief then.â
âI didnât order anything though.â
âWell, it says right here, âEffie Trinketâ, and thereâs only one Effie Trinket in the city, right?â The woman sounded almost amused.
âYes?â
âThen Iâve come to the right place.â
Briar Rose settled the gift basket against the windowsill.
Effieâs eyes were instantly drawn to the sealed envelope attached to it.
A match of hope struck inside her.
âFrom District 12?â
âIâm afraid not.â The cellophane rustled quietly under the womanâs hands. Purple nails that matched her hair, Effie noticed. âSorry I startled you beforeâ, Briar Rose went on. âI know this is most irregular, but they said you were feeling a little under the weather. That I had to make sure you got it.â
âThey?â
The woman smiled.
âYou must have some generous friends indeed. Sign here, please.â
Alone again, Effie settled on the bed. Basket on her lap.
Aphroditeâs Beauty Spa. The famous logo was printed along the ribbon. The envelope had one word written on it. Effie. In beautiful calligraphy letters.
She swallowed and swallowed.
Not a gift basket.
A wellness basket.
Eyes burning, stinging, like standing too close by a smoky fire, she carefully turned it from side to side. Peered at the items through the cellophane.
Packets of dried herbs and flower petals. Bottles of essential lavender oil. Scented candles. Coconut oil. Body cream infused with vanilla. Aromatic soaps shaped like water lilies, so small they fit on your palm.
Bath bubbles and bath salt. Lip smackers. Face masks, bath sponges in three different colors and, shoulder to shoulder with a set of fluffy baby-soft hand towels: a neat package of wrapped up boiled lemon sweets.
With trembling hands, Effie opened the envelope. Got out the card, printed with a field of gorgeous sunflowers.
Her eyes travelled from left to right and as she read, her face crinkled up, shoulders beginning to shake with silent sobs.
She tried to be quiet. Didnât want to wake the children. But despite her great efforts, she couldnât quite keep the small, strangled sounds from escaping her throat.
More and more tears just rolled down her cheeks, dropped from her chin and into the wellness basket.
All that built-up heartache for months and months, if not years just ⌠poured through her eyes.
Dear Effie
Weâre so sorry youâre feeling unwell. Staying in bed when you donât want to, is just the worst (especially when you canât also have sex with a hottie). You know Flavius would offer but heâs just not that into redheads. At least not this season. And sometimes rest, real rest, is all you need to really bounce back again. And you will, darling.
Now try and sleep as much as you can and, when youâre ready, go pour yourself a nice, warm bath. Add some oil, some petals, light a candle and just relax and unwind in the bubbly water.
Once youâre back on your feet, you have our numbers. Weâll bring dinner and iced tea and then we can play a game of Scrabble together. Wonât that be fun? If we can keep the twins from eating up the pieces, that is.
Take care of yourself, dear!
Love
Octavia, Flavius and Venia
PS: Donât worry about the tickets. Flavius knows someone who works at the Breeze. We got a full refund. The fair will always be there and who knows? Maybe next time, Haymitch might want to join!
xXx
*ring ring*
⌠Mm?
Eff? Did I wake ya?
Mm.
Oh, shit. Fuck. Didnât realize how late it was. âm sorry. Go back to sleep. Iâll call yâup some other time.
Youâre here now. What do you want?
Just tell ya ⌠well, how sorry I um ... for beinâ sucha a dick afore.
You really were. Even by your standard.
Yeah ⌠*slurs* those three odd birdies really bring out the worst in me. Go figguh.
*sighs* Haymitch, if all youâre going to do is joke around, might as well hang up now. Iâm not in the mood.
No, no. I wonât. Come on, Effs. Donât be so snippy. You know me. You know how I really feel about things. *hick* Didnât even mean what I said âbout the prep.
Good.
Well ⌠maâbe some of it, but like ⌠not the stuff that were like really mean. Honest, swee⌠I mean Eff. Theyâre your friends. I wants you to have friends. If they wanna come over and sing n read n ⌠do theatre, thatâs fine.
âŚ
Itâs just ⌠I should be doinâ those things!
I know.
I shoulda been there for Amâs first word! Whatâs next? Ianâs gonâ start callinâ Flavius âpapaâ? Iâm glad someoneâs there helpinâ ya out. I am, but damn it ⌠it should be me! Right? Why canât I be a part of their life too? Iâm their father!
You know why, Haymitch.
But I âavenât been drinkinâ all that much lately. Honest! And there are ways around it.
Itâs not that simple.
Why couldnât it be? I know I ainât perfect, sweetheart. I know Iâm not good at it like you are but ⌠donât âey need me too? Just a lilâ bit? I mean, come on! You said I could see âem if I was sober.
And youâre not!
I would be. If you were here. And itâs not like they know whaâs goinâ on, anyway. Theyâre babies, Eff. Even if I had a cold one right in front of âem it wouldnât affect or hurt âem. I wonât fuck âem up. I wonât!
Thatâs what you need to believe in order to sleep at night.
Whyâd ya have to be so mean, I already said Iâm sorry!! *sobs* I cleaned the house up. Thaâs where I was before. Ask Peeta if you donât believe me. Whole fuckinâ place: spick and span now. I donât even live with Sae no more. All week long I just wash everything. Threw out a mountain oâ crap. G-got all their toys ready, so you and ⌠you ⌠Effs, I canât live like this! It feels like a part of meâs been cut off! I need to see my kids. Bring the prep team along if you must, Iâll wait on them hand and foot, just ⌠please come home! You canât keep punishing me like this, Eff. Itâs too cruel. *sobs* Theyâre my children too.
Iâm not being cruel. Iâm just trying to keep this family afloat. Haymitch, I know youâre hurting ⌠but this isnât about you. Or me. Itâs about them. Whatâs best for them. *draws a deep breath* Look ⌠what we can do or at least try is buy a videophone and install it in the nursery. That way you can both see and talk to each other.
*sniffs* For real? You promise? Yeah ⌠yeah, thatâd be great!
But, Haymitch! You need to show me that youâre serious about it, OK? You have to be a grownup here. A real parent. If we do this and you disappoint them âŚ
I wonât! Never!
No showing up drunk. Or hungover. And if we say Tuesday at 2PM that means Tuesday 2PM. No excuses!
No excuses. I swear.
Weâll try that for a while and if you can make it work â then we can talk some more about the prospect of you visiting. But you have to earn it, Haymitch. You must do the work. You.
Yeah, totally! Absolutely! *wipes his nose* Can I tell âem gânight? I wonât wake âem or anything. Just gânight?
Not when youâre like this. Tomorrow maybe. Weâll talk then. You and I for sure. Now, put that bottle down, Haymitch and go to sleep. Or if not sleep then at least try and rest. Lay down on the bed or the couch and close your eyes. Things will feel different in daylight.
Can you at least tell âem I love âem? I mean, like ⌠really make sure they know?
I will. Of course. I already do. Every day.
Author's note: And Haymitch's destructive cycle has gone full circle again, only to start over AGAIN. The Trinket Abernathy family truly is completely codependent. What do you think will happen next? Tell me in the comments!
Also, anyone else feeling curious about this Briar Rose character? She was supposed to just be the delivery woman in this one scene but I have a strong feeling this isn't the last we'll ever see of her.
#hayffie#haymitch x effie#the hunger games renaissance#haymitch abernathy#effie trinket#the prep team#octavia#flavius#venia#the capitol
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