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javierpena-inatacvest · 23 days ago

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Chapter 2- Awakening

Summary: There was once a time in his life where knocking on your front door was the best part of Frankie's day. Now, the thought of having to ring your doorbell to face you makes him sick to his stomach.

Word Count: 4.1K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (no use of y/n, reader has a name/nickname)

Warnings: (the tiniest hint of) smut (18+), illusions to masturbation (m), angst/regret, fluff, awkward adolescent yearning (I have quickly come to learn this is my favorite thing to write whoops), Frankie realizing he's caught a case of the ✨feelings ✨ and doesn't know what to do

A/N: Less than 10K word chapters?!? Posting a series on a schedule?!?! I don't even know who I am anymore?!?! AH, thank you guys for all your sweet words about this series so far. Writing this has sparked such a joy inside me, and it means so much that y'all are willing to read my silly lil story 🥺💛 This chapter is from Frankie's POV- I know the first chapter had both reader and Frankie, but as I've been writing, it seems like it fits the story better if some are both POV's and some are just one!

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

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Frankie, Present

“Bring these next door.”

His mother doesn’t even ponder the idea of phrasing it as a question when she practically drops the plate of chocolate chip cookies into Frankie’s lap.

“Ma, it’s 7:30 in the morning.” Frankie looks up at her dumbfounded.

“And? You’ve never eaten a cookie for breakfast when you’re sad? Go now, they’re still warm.”

There’s no way he’ll be able to head anywhere but straight out his front door, but Christ, he at least hoped he would have been able to buy himself a little time before having to face you.

“I just got back from a run. I smell like shit. Can I at least shower first, por favor?”

“Fine,” she groans, reluctant to give in so easily, “but be quick. Don’t think I won’t turn the hot water off, mijo. I don’t want these getting cold.”

She knows her son would take an hour long shower if he could. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’s spent way too long in the bathroom, over analyzing every inch of himself before going to see you. His mom isn’t sure if she should thank you or not for her son’s dedication to hygiene. She could barely get him to shower for the first 10 years of his life, but after you moved in, a few days before the start of 6th grade, bathing had magically no longer become an issue.

Frankie understands her threat of an ice cold shower is very real, and a very effective way to finally get him four doors down. He lets the hot water wash over his skin, turning it to a temperature that’s almost too painful to stand. He hopes that somehow, it’s hot enough to wash away all the sins he’s prayed you’d forgive him for, that the regret of every poor decision he’s been plagued by washes down the drain, disappearing never to be seen again.

He wishes it was that easy. That a simple shower would grant him the forgiveness he’s not sure you’ll ever give him. He wouldn’t blame you if you never did.

He forces himself to put on the first pair of shorts and t-shirt that he pulls out of his suitcase. If he doesn’t, he’ll be stuck in his room for the rest of the day trying to figure out what to wear to bring a plate of cookies to your doorstep.

“You should apologize, you know.” It’s the first thing his mom has to say to him as he makes his way down the stairs, barely three steps into the kitchen before she’s at his throat again.

“For bringing them dessert at 7:30 in the morning? I was planning on it.” Frankie huffs, trying to deflect the plan for the real apology he knows he should be making.

“Dios mio, Francisco, you know what I mean. I hope you’ve thought about how you’re going to explain yourself to her. You owe that girl an apology for the hell you’ve put her through.”

Frankie can’t blame his mother for the way she’s twisting the knife that’s stuck in his gut. He’s the one who put it there in the first place.

“I know. I’ve thought about it, believe me.”

They both know that’s the truth. Frankie’s spent more hours than he can count thinking about what possible combination of words he can string together that won’t make you hate him anymore than you already do. In fact, he’s spent so long thinking about it, replaying the million and one things he could say to you over and over in his head, that he’s convinced there’s nothing he could tell you that would buy him even a shred of forgiveness.

“Fuck you, Mackenzie. Fuck you for ruining my life. It’ll be better off without you fucking in it.”

Three years ago, he disappeared out of your life and those were the last words he left you with. He's spent three years of letting the last thing he had to say you haunt him like some sort of ugly ghost he can't forget.

At this point, there's a part of him that's not even sure he's worthy of forgiveness.

“Mom?” Frankie asks, eyes peeled to the ground, trying to keep his voice from breaking, “Am I making a huge fucking mistake coming back here?”

“Well mijo,” She pauses, gently cradling her son’s face, lifting his chin enough to let his tired, worn eyes meet hers, “That, I cannot tell you. Some things you have to figure out on your own. I think this is one of them. But what I can tell you,” she stops again, ensuring Frankie is listening, really listening to what she has to say, “is that you have never been one to leave things unfinished. I think there are still things left to finish here for you, Francisco.”

The slow nod of his head in her palm tells her he’s heard every word. He knows he needs to finish what he’s started.

“You also need to finish bringing these cookies to the Andersons, sí? Don’t think I forgot.”

“Didn’t think you would.”

Frankie’s not sure the walk to your house has ever felt this long. Every step against the pavement makes his feet feel heavier, weighing his body down, its final attempt at keeping him from showing up at your front door. It takes every ounce of strength he has left to get him there, but he does. He won’t himself fail you again. He can’t.

When he knocks on your door, he’s suddenly 11 years old, palms sweating and heart racing as he rings your doorbell for the first time, hoping the cool girl who moved in down the street still wants to play football with him.

Right now, he’d give anything to be that 11 year old boy again. God, what he’d give to grab little him by the shoulders and shake all of the stupid decisions he plans on making in the years to come right out of him. He’d give anything for someone to come shake the stupid out of him now.

Seconds pass like hours as he waits for someone to answer his knock. Maybe it won’t be you who does. Maybe he’ll get lucky and it'll be your mom. Maybe your dad, who is sitting on his literal deathbed, will be blessed with some divine miracle that grants him the strength to get up and answer the door instead of you.

“Be right there!”

He’d recognize your voice anywhere. It’s been three years since he’s heard it. Even with all the time that’s passed, there’s not a doubt in his mind he knows it’s yours.

Fuck, he’s missed the sound of you more than he’d ever like to admit.

He braces himself as the lock clicks on the other side of the door. The knot in his stomach tightens as he watches it open.

His heart wants to burst out of his chest when you finally appear on the other side.

“F-Frankie?”

“Hi, Mackenzie.”

Frankie, Fall of 2002, Age 14

It’s been 3 years, and Frankie still rings your doorbell every time he’s at your front door. Both you and your parents have been more than adamant he’s welcome to let himself in, at this point, they leave the door unlocked just for him.

As much as he wants to just slip through the front door unannounced to see you, he knows his mom would kill him if he didn’t wait to be let in and make his presence known.

“Francisco, I do not care how often you are over there, you are a guest in their home. If they are gracious enough to let you over, the least you can do is use your manners and greet them at the door.”

Frankie’s always been polite, but the world would stop spinning before his mother would let anyone else even have an inkling of thinking otherwise.

Truth be told, he doesn’t mind. He’d be hard pressed to find any 14 year old who didn’t have some sort of complaint about their parents, but you never really do, and he can see why.

They’re your parents, and he loves his mamá more than life, but the Anderson’s had taken Frankie under their wing from the moment he had crossed the threshold from their patio to their living room and never looked back.

It didn’t take long for the three toned chime of your doorbell to become the favorite part of his daily routine.

“Hi Frankie! Come on in, honey.”

Mrs. Anderson has that soft kind of sweetness that would make anyone’s day brighter, the kind of gentleness that a gardener has when tending to a field of their favorite flowers. She’s the type of person that would put anyone before herself, to a fault. It’s no wonder that given the circumstances, a house that should be shrouded in sadness is one of the places that Frankie feels the happiest.

“Thanks Mrs. Anderson. Can I put this in the freezer for Kenz? I figured she may want it when she gets home later.” Frankie gestures down to the chocolate chip cookie dough Blizzard he’s holding, trying to keep it from melting any further.

It’s become a sacred ritual that every Friday night, you and him ride your bikes to the Dairy Queen two miles down the road. He always gets an Oreo Blizzard, you, a chocolate chip cookie dough one. On the few Friday nights you can’t spend together, it’s an unspoken agreement that a Blizzard will still end up in the other’s freezer for the next day. It’s only happened once that a cookie dough Blizzard hasn’t been found in your residence within 24 hours of the start to your weekend- the one time Frankie was out of town to visit his family, you were pleasantly surprised to find not one, but two Blizzards in your freezer on Monday night upon his return.

“Frank the Tank! How’s it going, buddy?”

It’s always nice to see your dad up and around the house. His cancer has taken a lot of things from him, but his personality certainly isn’t one of them. Some bouts of chemo and treatment are worse than others, but it never ceases to keep Mr. Anderson from being the happiest man Frankie’s ever met. You always tease Frankie that he comes over to your house so often just so he can spend time with your dad. While of course it’s not 100% true that Doug Anderson is the only reason Frankie finds himself at your doorstep nearly every day, he also won’t deny the sense of comfort it brings him that your dad treats him like his own son.

“Hi Mr. Anderson!” Frankie smiles, shoving your Blizzard in the top left corner of your freezer between the ice packs and frozen vegetables.

“Another Blizzard for me? Always so generous, Frank. I’m convinced you might start running a Dairy Queen out of our kitchen pretty soon.” Mr. Anderson teases, giving Frankie a light punch to the shoulder. “How’d your algebra test go the other day, bud?”

“Pretty good, I think.” Frankie shrugs, trying to play off his confidence.

“Think you got a higher score than Kenzie?”

“I think so. But don’t tell her that.”

“Oh believe me, I will. Smart kid like you has gotta put her in her place every once and a while.”

Frankie blushes. School has never been his strong suit. He’s smart in the way he could fix just about anything from the time he could barely walk, but sitting in a classroom trying to absorb information through reading, taking notes and test taking has always made him feel like an idiot. You, on the other hand, could graduate in your sleep with straight A’s. He’s not sure how you do it, but it’s enough motivation to make him want to at least try. He thanks his lucky stars that this year, math is finally starting to make sense, and he’s got the upper hand on you for now.

“Is Kenz upstairs? I know she’s got her soccer banquet tonight, I just wanted to hang out for a little before she has to go.”

Normally he wouldn’t mind staying longer to talk to your dad, but on days he knows he’s working on a limited time table, efficiency is of the essence.

“Should be. If not, we have a problem on our hands.”

Frankie scurries from the kitchen and through the living room, up the familiar and well traveled path to your bedroom door. His heart always races a little faster every time he reaches the top step to the second floor.

Normally, it’s three long strides to cross the threshold into your bedroom before he plops himself on the edge of your bed, but as he takes a left turn at the top of the stairwell, he’s surprised to find your bedroom door is closed, and locked.

“Kenz! It’s me! Open up!” Frankie raps his fist on the back of your door, knuckles thumping against the wood.

“Not now, Frankie!”

He’s taken aback by your protest, scrunching his brow at your response and the distress in your voice through the other end of the door.

“What? Why? What’s wrong?” He asks, now a little more concerned.

“It’s just- Ugh! It’s nothing! It’s stupid, okay! I just don’t have time for this right now!”

You and him both know that’s not enough to get him to leave. Frankie is persistent. He’s not going anywhere until you open that door and he gets an answer as to what’s making you so upset.

“C’mon, MacKenzie.”

He only pulls the full name card for serious occasions, because he knows it’ll work. It’ll work every time. That’s why he can’t help but smirk at the click of your door handle unlocking, giving him permission to step inside.

Except he can’t.

“Kenz, get off the door and let me in!”

“I’m not on the door! Ugh, hold on.”

With the force Frankie was using, he nearly falls flat on his face as the barricade you’d built on your side of the door is removed, stumbling into your room and landing face first in a pile of clothes. As he looks up, he’s greeted with a sight he’s never once seen before in your room, and he has no idea what to make of it.

“Jesus Christ, dude, what happened in here?!”

To say a bomb had exploded in your closet would have been a polite way to put it. Every piece of clothing you owned was now a casualty on your bedroom floor, down to every last pair of shoes. You could barely stand to have a singular, stray sock on the ground, your bedroom always the near picture perfect scene of immaculately neat. So to see the disaster your room had become, Frankie knew that something had gone very, very wrong.

“I don’t have anything to wear for tonight!”

“Yeah you do, have you seen all the clothes on your floor? I think you have enough clothes for a small village.”

“Francisco!”

If she’s already pulling the full name card on him too, it must be serious.

“Sorry! Is this because of the end of the season soccer party tonight? I thought you said you were just gonna wear like, a skirt or something?”

Frankie’s never even contemplated the idea of you being upset over an outfit. You’d always been amicable in the wardrobe department- t-shirt, shorts, sneakers, same has him. This is uncharted territory for the both of you.

“Yeah, but then at lunch today Katie and Morgan said all of the Seniors want to dress up, like, really nice, and now I’m freaking out because I don’t know what to wear and I don’t wanna look like an idiot Freshman who shows up in something dumb.”

Frankie knows you’re stressed from how intensely you’re picking at the skin around your nails, leg bouncing furiously while your eyes dart around the room at the heaps of clothes stacked around the floor.

“You’re not gonna look dumb, Kenzie. You’re the only Freshman that’s made the Varsity soccer team in like, a million years. Hard to look stupid if you’re that good.”

It may not be much help, but it’s at least enough to bring you off the brink of tears.

“I guess,” you pause, too stubborn to admit that he’s right, “It’s just- all the other girls on the team are so pretty. When we’re playing it doesn’t matter ‘cause we’re all sweaty and gross, but- I don’t know, I feel like I’m gonna look so awkward next to everyone.”

But you are pretty.

It’s the first thought that pops into Frankie’s brain. He’s not sure how it got there so fast. All of a sudden he feels a hundred degrees hotter, hoping you won’t notice the way he visibly tries to shake the thought out of his head..

Where did that come from? She’s your friend, Frankie. Your best friend. She’s not pretty, she’s just MacKenzie.

“You won’t look awkward, you’re gonna be fine. I promise.” He’s relieved his response doesn’t seem to raise any suspicions, like you would have been able to read his mind and watch his thinking play out in real time.

“If I um- If I- Never mind, this is stupid! Ugh, this is stupid.”

You’re pacing now, arms crossed so tightly over your chest, he’s worried you’re going to squeeze your own eyes out like one of those little squishy toys you win from a claw machine. That’s if you don’t burn a hole in your carpet first.

“What?”

“If I-” You stammer again, scrunching your face at your own frustration, “If I try on what I think I should wear, will you tell me if it looks dumb or not?”

You’ve asked Frankie plenty for plenty of favors in the three years you’ve known him- being the one to lead the two of you home on a bike ride in the dark, opening your pudding for you at lunch because it exploded on you once and you’re terrified it will again, catching the giant spider that makes a recurrence in the top right corner of your bedroom and throwing it out the window- He’s not sure why out of all those things, this is the most terrifying favor you’d ever asked of him.

“Y-yeah. Okay.”

The two of you quietly nod at each other for a moment, Frankie hoping that he’s not the only one who’s wondering why the air has all of a sudden seemed to have gotten thicker.

“Okay. Well, um- turn around.” You point for him to take his usual spot on the edge of the bed, ensuring that his back’s to you and eyes only have the choice to roam the floor or the wall above your desk before he hears the shuffling of clothes behind him.

It’s then that everything starts to move in slow motion, like a flip has suddenly switched in Frankie’s brain as a wave of unsolicited thoughts begin to flood his head, feeling himself drown in the panic and confusion that’s washing over him.

What if he did turn around? You’re probably taking off your clothes right now. Are you in just your underwear? What color is it? Maybe you’re all the way naked. What would you look like? Why does he all of a sudden want to know so bad? What’s wrong with him?

In his manic state, his eyes are darting everywhere, trying to find something to lock onto that will shake him from whatever obscene cycle of thought he’s caught himself in. He instantly regrets when he lets his gaze fall to his feet, because peeking out of the pile of clothes beneath him is the better part of a bra.

Your bra.

He feels so awful that he can’t stop looking at it. So guilty that he can’t help the fact he’s trying to commit every detail of it to his brain- the teal and green polka dots, the thin lace that covers the shoulder strap, the little bow that sits in between the two cups where your breasts would go. He can’t stop staring. He can’t stop thinking about what you would look like in it. The only thing that stops him is hearing your voice from over his shoulder. And somehow, your voice only makes his chest feel tighter.

“You promise you won’t make fun of me if I look stupid?” Your words are so soft, delicate and fragile in a way he’s never heard you use them before. However scared you are, right now, Frankie would be willing to take that feeling and triple it for himself.

“Promise.”

His eyes are still closed when he swings his legs over the other edge of the bed. He’s too afraid to open them.

“You’re gonna have to open your eyes, unless you’ve suddenly obtained x-ray vision that you haven’t told me about in the last thirty seconds.”

The way you tease him grounds him enough to give in. It doesn’t ground him enough from leaving him speechless the moment he opens his eyes.

“Kenz… You uh, you- um-”

He’s stumbling over his words, trying to find them fast enough to stop the disappointment that’s flooding over your face because you think he hates the way you look. That couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“I look dumb, don’t I? It’s fine, Frankie, you can just say it.” You’re back to pacing again, storming around your room with a desperate, crazed look in your eye. “Ugh! This sucks! Why is this so hard, I just wanna-”

“You look really pretty.”

It stops you dead in your tracks. He can almost hear how hard you gulp, looking back at him like a deer in headlights.

“W-what?”

You ask it like you didn’t hear exactly what he said. He knows you did. You always do. It doesn’t stop him from trying to twist his words to help him out of the hole he’s already dug himself into.

“Your- Your dress. It looks really nice. You should wear it.”

He’s not sure how much time passes as the two of you finally lock eyes. Thirty seconds? Ten minutes? An hour? The way you’re looking at him right now is enough to make his world stop turning. It only makes it worse that he swears he can see your lips trying to fight the smile that’s slowly curling in the corner of your mouth.

“MacKenzie! We need to go, sweetie! Dad and I will meet you in the car!”

Frankie doesn’t know if it’s divine intervention or a devilish curse that your mom is calling for you from the bottom of the stairs. Whatever it is, it’s enough to snap both of you out of the strange spell that had overcome your bedroom and make Frankie feel like the only appropriate response was to race out of your house and hide in embarrassment for the next forty-eight hours.

“I should um- I should go, too. Santi’s probably waiting for me at his house. Have fun tonight, okay?”

“Yeah, o-okay. You have fun, too. Tell Ding Dong I say hi. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

Frankie’s in a trance the rest of the night. Physically, he spends the next few hours in Santi’s basement, glued to the couch while his friend yells at him that he’s not using the right combination of moves to max out his points in Tony Hawk Pro Skater 3. Mentally, he’s convinced he no longer exists on the same planet as anyone else around him.

When he gets home, all he can do is stare at his ceiling. If he closes his eyes to try to fall asleep, the only thing he can see is that teal and green bra laying on your bedroom floor.

He wishes the thought of you in it didn’t make his stomach churn. He wishes it wasn’t you he was picturing when he lets his hand creep below the waistband of his sweatpants. He wishes it wasn’t your name he was muttering under his breath as he makes a mess in hand, hips stuttering into his grasp.

He wishes it wasn’t you.

At least that’s what he tells himself. Maybe one day, it’ll work.

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autumnshighlady · 2 months ago

Text

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 31) - final chapter

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: the opportunity to help the females in the Night Court is now here, and the last chapter of the reader's plan concludes

warnings: none

word count: 7.1k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: this is the final chapter of IALTPWF (there will be an epilogue for SURE, maybe a bonus chapter or two in the future) and i'm so emotional. i've poured my heart and soul into this story for two years and it's finally over. thank you to everyone who has shown this story support, I hope that in this chapter and the epilogue to come, you are satisfied with the ending. long mushy post to come later

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19 / part 20 / part 21 / part 22 / part 23 / part 24 / part 25 / part 26 / part 27 / part 28 / part 29 / part 30

read on ao3

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Nesta ran her fingers through your hair, plaiting it up in a coronet identical to her own. Her hands were steady, despite the raging sea of nerves that wracked both of you. It was a day’s ride to the Night Court on dragonback, and you could practically feel Zôrzimril itching to take flight. Without moving your head, you glanced at the window, seeing your dragon's golden scales shining in the moonlight. Athariel was behind her, the two mighty beasts laying down and resting before their long journey.

Both of you donned your new riding leathers, with featherlight but sturdy pieces of armour attached. The shoulder pieces were scaled like dragon skin – yours, gold, and Nesta’s silver. The designs of the leather blended with the metal armour were beautifully crafted, fitting perfectly to your forms. You didn’t know if you wanted Eris to tell you how much he spent commissioning the pieces, but you were grateful for the protection nonetheless.

As Nesta carefully pinned your hair in place, your stomach churned. The plan to help the females of the Night Court escape would finally conclude by tomorrow morning. Despite the detailed planning and the fact you had all the other High Lords helping the cause, nerves still wracked you. As much as you could guide the females down the right path, there would undoubtedly be many who were too afraid to leave.

It is their choice, you had to remind yourself constantly. Being from a different court, there is only so much you could do.

“Where are you right now?” Nesta murmured, resting her hands on her shoulders and looking at you in the mirror that sat on your dresser in front of you.

You blinked, pushing away your negative thoughts. “What do you mean?”

She scoffed. “You have that distant look in your eyes. And I can hear that brain of yours ticking away like an old watch. What exactly are you fretting about?”

“What am I not fretting about is the easier question,” you grumbled. “There are so many things that could go wrong with this plan.”

The scraping of chair legs filled the room as Nesta pulled up a second chair, placing it next to yours and taking a seat. “Like that? Let us rationalise it, ok?”

You took a deep breath. “This is the truly final piece to my plan. The last piece on the board to fall. One way or another, we’ve gotten what we wanted so far. What if this is where it all goes wrong?”

“I think you forget the countless times things already have gone wrong,” Nesta gently reminded you. “Rhys capturing you, your engagement to Malgorm, much of what you planned has gone awry in some way. Yet it has all worked out – this will, too. Remember, you’re not doing it alone this time. We have Tarquin, Thesan, Helion, Tamlin, and Kallias all helping with the full support of their courts. We will be fine.”

“But the females might not be.” You pointed out, trying to keep your brain from worrying about how the groups could be followed and hunted down on their journey to escape.

“The ones from the Hewn City have Gwyn and Azriel to protect them, and the Illyrian females know the mountain passes better than any of the males. They can handle themselves,” Nesta insisted.

Gwyn had gone back into the Night Court a few hours after the meeting in Solaris to begin her whisper network. You had watched with a mix of pride and worry as she grabbed the shadowsinger’s hand, winnowing back into the very place she would be in the most danger. Somehow, deep down, you knew she would be okay. This was not the shy, frightened Gwyn you had first met in the Library. No, she had grown a new strength that rivalled the toughest steel in the armoury. With Azriel at her side, they would protect the females from the Court of Nightmares.

“Is Emerie still going with you to the Illyrian meetup point?” Nesta asked you, adjusting the armbands on her leathers.

You nodded.

“Good. Illyria will be the hardest path to navigate. Helion, Lucien and I will easily be able to get the Hewn City females to the cove and across the border. But you’ll have to extend your magic quite far into the Steppes, have you rested enough for that?”

“I think so,” you stood up, walking over to your table of breakfast and forcing a few orange slices into your mouth to calm your stomach. It tasted bitter on your tongue, and it took everything in you to swallow it.

Your mate snorted, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. “A fat lie. You were tossing and turning so much I was tempted to smother you to sleep,”

Smirking, you turned back to Nesta. “Well, there are ways in which you could smother me that I wouldn’t mind…”

Nesta’s cheeks went red, but she swatted you with her hand towel. “Insatiable thing. Did we not satisfy you enough yesterday before Eris left?”

Now it was your turn to blush and look away. Eris had taken his and Tamlin’s armies on ships up to the Western coast of the Night Court. His goal was to feign an offensive launch to draw out the armies, undoubtedly drawing out Rhysand as well. False negotiations would take place, centring around questioning if Rhysand had dealt with Koschei yet – and if not, all six courts were prepared to attack and eliminate him entirely to break the bargain. But before he had left in his shining High Lord armour, your husband spent hours showing both you and Nesta how much he would miss his wives.

You shook your shoulders, brushing off the heated memories before you pounced on Nesta. The mating bonds in your chest urged you to engage in the frenzy that was common for new mates, but you resisted for now, choosing to change the subject. “So Helion will shelter everyone at the Day Court until me and my ships arrive with the Illyrian females since we don’t have the magic to winnow everyone,” you said, revisiting your plan you had gone over a million times.

Despite your constant repetition, Nesta remained patient. “Yes, my love,” she said. “Tarquin, Cresseida, Kallias, and Vivianne will be with you. I will have Helion and Thesan with me, and we will be waiting for you and the Illyrians to arrive before dividing everyone up.”

At the High Lord’s meeting a few days ago, every ruler had agreed to provide a home to a certain number of refugees. Autumn and Summer were taking the most, followed by Day, Spring, Dawn, and then Winter. “I can accommodate however many you need,” Kallias had said when discussing the logistics. “However, I do not think many will want to come. It is a harsher environment than many are used to, except maybe the Illyrians.”

With every court helping, there was room for thousands of females spread across Prythian. Nesta had played a large role in coordinating with builders and stonemasons from the other courts, sharing her plans and models from Solaris as reference for the construction of more shelters. It was an effort shared by fae all across the lands, a thought which warmed your heart.

“Everything is as in place as it can be, I guess,” you said, glancing outside at the rise of the moon from behind the mountains, a signal that it was time to go. “We are prepared. I just want all of this to be over. Aside from dealing with Koschei, this is the last obstacle to climb before I can finally relax, I think.”

Nesta placed a kiss on your cheek. “Me too. Now let’s go get Emerie, so we can get those females out of there and be done with all this.”

**********************

A surprisingly alert Emerie was already waiting for you in the clearing where Athariel and Zôrzimril waited. The beasts lifted their heads and called out happily, making Emerie flinch.

You laughed, causing the winged female to snap playfully, “Don’t even. Not all of us are used to dragons. Give me a hundred years before you expect me to not jump at those noises.” She donned black leathers with black armour, and that familiar white ribbon across her forehead. Her wings were a blueish black in the moonlight,

“Well you’re about to spend a full day on the back of one so best get used to it quickly.” You grabbed your supply sac from Saeros, nodding your thanks before hauling it over your back. Despite having food, water, and extra clothes, it was not heavy thanks to a special spell from Helion.

Emerie slung her identical sac over her arm. “We ready?”

“This is the most awake I’ve ever seen you at this hour,” Nesta joked from a few feet away where she was greeting Athariel, stroking the silver beast’s nose.

“I’m on a mission, okay?” Emerie shrugged. “Finally being able to help with something really awakens you.”

Colourful leaves crunched underneath your boots as you lead Emerie over to where Zôrzimril was waiting. “You say that like you haven't been up from sunrise to sunset working on Solaris for over two months,” you pointed out.

Emerie’s response was cut off as Zôrzimril lowered her head upon your approach, emitting a low rumbling noise as she eyes up the winged female. Emerie’s eyes were wide, and she stopped in her tracks.

“It’s ok,” you reassured her as you ran your hand down the dragon’s jaw. “She’s just checking you out and saying hi. She won’t hurt you, I promise.”

“If you say so.”

“Come test it yourself. Say hello back.”

After a few protests, you managed to drag Emerie forward until she was face to face with your dragon. Zôrzimril’s nostrils flared, her eyes squinting as she seized up the creature in front of her. Gently, you grabbed Emerie’s hand, placing it on the dragon’s snout. She let out a gasp as her hand made contact with the hard but smooth scales of the beast, jaw slack with wonder.

“Holy shit,” she muttered. “She feels so…”

“Powerful?” You finished your friend’s sentence for her, and she nodded.

“I never thought I’d know what it was to fly,” her voice was faraway, as if her mind and body were disconnected in a drift between memories and dreams. “I guess I will now.”

Nesta had come up to the two of you, pulling you both in for a big hug. You held your mate and your friend, sighing into their comforting touch. “I’ll see you both soon, okay?” Nesta said.

“Stay safe,” Emerie said as she nodded, giving Nesta a squeeze on the shoulder before pulling back and heading towards Zôrzimril cautiously, securing the straps of her backpack across her chest.

Nesta turned to you, a well of emotions swimming in her blue grey eyes. “What we’re doing here is bigger than both of us,” she said. “It will be the final nail in the Night Court’s coffin. I find myself wondering if we have doomed them to a tragic fate in our pursuit for revenge.”

You frowned. “Are you having regrets?”

“No,” Nesta shook her head. “I’m not. But it makes me sad. For as much as I hated the Night Court, it was a beautiful place. Not all of them were bad.”

You took Nesta’s gloved hands in your own. “Velaris will be safe. And we are aiding as many of the females from Illyria and the Hewn City as we can. Rhys may be an arrogant prick, but he is not a complete fool. He will protect his remaining citizens from Koschei – he put himself in this position, not us. He was the one ready to sacrifice them, let him deal with the consequences of those actions. Besides, many may choose to flee regardless of if they come with us or not.”

Your mate sighed, nodding. “You’re right. I just… I keep thinking about Feyre and Elain and the baby. I don’t want anything to do with them, at least not for a long time, but I don’t want anything bad to happen to them.”

“What if we wrote a letter to them?” You offered. “Let them know that should they need it, there will be a place for them at one of the sanctuaries. It doesn’t have to be in Autumn – I am sure Tarquin or Helion would gladly take them in.”

A sad smile came over Nesta’s face. “I’d like that, thank you.”

You knew Nesta’s relationship with her sisters would never be the same after everything that had happened in the last two years. It was a loss she would grieve and carry with her for a while. As much as you didn’t care for the other two Archeron siblings, they, too, had been dragged into the faerie world against their will. Truly, you hoped that one day they’d find happiness and a good home in Prythian, just not with Nesta in the Autumn Court.

Giving Nesta’s hand one last squeeze, you turned towards Zôrzimril and walked over to where Emerie was stroking the beast’s neck. When the dragon saw you approaching, she eagerly dropped her shoulder, extending her wing towards the ground for you to grab onto. So you gently stepped up onto the dragon’s scaling spikes, holding her wing for support and climbing up onto her back. In just a few movements, you settled yourself into the gaps between the horns at the base of Zôrzimril’s neck.

You peered down at Emerie, who went white. “Come on!” You called out in encouragement.

“That’s how you get up?” The Illyrian female baulked, causing you to scoff.

“Did you think we had a ladder or a staircase to get up?”

“Yes, actually!”

“Well time to put those Valkyrie muscles to use and get your ass up here.”

Emerie sighed, muttering to herself but grabbed onto Zôrzimril’s wing shakily. Awkwardly, she managed to scale up the dragon’s shoulder, panting and plopping herself down behind you. “That’s not as easy as you made it look.” She huffed.

You shrugged. “Take’s practice, now clip in.”

Emerie did so, taking the rope that was attached to her belt and clipping it onto the holster that was fitted around Zôrzimril’s nearest horn. You did the same, watching as Athariel spread her mighty silver wings beside you. The beast ran forward and shot into the air with the agility of a cat, and you heard Nesta whoop with delight. She seemed like a speck of dust on the large creature, but you managed to catch a glimpse of her turning her head around to look at you one more time.

Zôrzimril screeched in defiance of being left behind, and you patted her scales. “Volare,” you said to her using the command Eris had taught you. Happy to oblige, the dragon lifted her head, causing Emerie to grasp onto the scales in front of her and curse as she spread her wings and catapulted into the air.

The female behind you let out a yelp, and you lifted your chin to the stars above and sighed deeply, relishing the feeling of climbing higher and higher into the sky. Zôrzimril’s powerful body soared through the clouds, her wings cutting through them like razor sharp blades.

It was only another minute before your ascent finished and you finally broke free of the clouds, and Zôrzimril angled herself straight once more. She let out a happy screech, dipping her claw down to slice through the clouds below as she flew North. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the view. The moon was bright, illuminating everything in a blue-silver tone. The stars shone brightly even with the light of the moon, twinking as if they were greeting you.

Behind you, Emerie’s breathing had steadied. “Holy shit…” She said with awe.

You turned to face your friend. “A bit different than being carried through the skies by an Illyrian male”

“You have no idea…” Her brown eyes were wide with wonder as they drank in the view of the midnight sky. She stretched her wings as far as they could go, sighing. “I never thought I’d feel the wind on my wings like this.”

Despite the cold night air, your heart warmed at seeing your friend so happy. Carefully, she let go of her ironclad grip on Zôrzimril’s horns, letting her arms stretch out to the side. Straightening her shoulders, she tipped her head back and let out a whoop to the stars. Her voice rang out amongst the clear sky, and her smile did not fade all the way to the Night Court.

**********************

Your legs were numb from flying for so long, even a few hours later as you gathered around a small campfire with Emerie, Tarquin, Viviane, and Kallias. A small unit of guards were stationed nearby, ready to jump into action should things go south. Luckily, Kallias had put up a glamour around the beach, shielding both everyone on land and on the ships just offshore from lingering eyes. The Lord and Lady of Winter each donned their white fur coats that, combined with their pale skin and hair, made them glow under moon high. Tarquin wore a simple blue tunic with a deep V, his white hair braided back out of his chiselled face. While unmistakably powerful beings, they were dressed like they were going to a simple meeting rather than a rescue mission – perhaps as to not frighten the females. No doubt there was armour glamoured somewhere, ready to replace their casual attire at the snap of fingers.

“They should be here soon,” Emerie muttered, pacing nervously and glancing at the rocky hills in the distance that led to the Illyrian Mountains where the females would be coming from. The steppes began half a mile away from the rocky beach where you stood, the beige and brown shrubbery rustling in the wind eerily.

At least the mountains had shelter, places to hide from anyone who may try and follow the large groups. But the steppes were out in the open, which made you nervous.

“Give it time,” Tarquin said gently. “This is not a swift moving group of warriors. They are likely burdened with their provisions, as well as children and the sick or elderly.”

“Why can’t we just meet them at the end of the mountain pass and escort them to the beach?” Emerie asked nervously, cracking her knuckles.

“Because we are already in the Night Court’s territory,” Viviane tried to reassure the female, her white hair glowing in the moonlight. “To go farther than this would be considered an invasion.”

“Eris is launching an invasion, why can’t we?” Emerie spoke as if she had not heard half of the Lady of the Winter court’s sentence.

“A false one,” Viviane did not lose her patience as she spoke. “One that is taking place on ship, therefore not encroaching on Rhysand’s borders. Stepping on the beach is easy to overlook, but heading into the Steppes would be an act of war. We have to be cautious.”

Emerie nodded, eyes clouded as she stopped pacing and sat down on a nearby log. You knew your friend’s greatest fear – that only a small group would have made it out of Illyria, leaving hundreds left behind for dead. You prayed that her fears would not come true.

The steady pounding in your head that had started an hour ago began to increase, and you groaned, swaying slightly. The light in your palms that guided the doe you had manifested with your magic and sent deep into the Illyrian Mountains dimmed slightly, but you quickly willed it to strengthen once again. Deep down, you felt thin and stretched from having to extend your magic so far for several hours.

“Are you okay?” Kallias asked, his white brows narrowing with concern.

You nodded. “Magic is tiring… I haven’t kept it going for this long… ever…” Your voice grew strained and weak, all of your energy focused on keeping that white trail of light going. You hated that you couldn’t even tell if there was anyone following it. All you could do was hope that everyone had made it to the designated escape starting point on time.

“She will not last much longer,” Tarquin muttered to his fellow High Lord. “It may yet be another few hours until the group arrives. I expect we will see them around sunrise at this rate.”

You barely heard Kallias’s response, closing your eyes and taking another deep breath. You could feel Nesta trying to reach you through the mating bond, but didn’t have the energy to respond. You could tell she was already in the Day Court, having succeeded in aiding the escape from the Court of Nightmares. And you wanted to reassure her that you were fine, that all was going well. But you couldn’t. You were swimming in a sea of your own powerful magic, but your body was not equipped to handle the strain.

“Hey, stay with us.” Your eyes snapped open at Viviane’s voice. She had come to stand at your side along with Emerie, an arm around your waist steadily supporting your unstable figure. Her blue eyes were laced with concern and she took in your exhausted form and turned to her husband. “She won’t be able to hold out until sunrise.”

“I can do it…” You muttered, mustering as much determination into your voice as you could.

“No, you cannot,” Kallias said sternly. “You are not used to wielding magic for this long of a period. It requires extreme focus, especially for something as complicated as this. And you’ve been at it for several hours already, it is taking its toll and sooner or later you will pass out from exhaustion.”

Guilt wracked you, and you fought off tears. You felt like a failure as you whispered, “I’m sorry…”

“Do not be,” Viviane assured you gently. “This is not a simple matter of setting up a ward or a glamour and leaving it be. You’re guiding a strange new type of magic none of us have seen before through miles of terrain that is unknown to you. Give yourself a break.”

“I can’t… stop…” You protested, vision going in and out.

“So don’t,” came Tarquin’s voice. “I’ll give you a boost.”

Beside you, Emerie frowned. “A boost?”

You heard stones shift as Tarquin stepped around the fire, coming to stand in front of you. “Yes,” he said. “I can channel some of my magic into her to keep her body strong enough.”

“That’s a thing?” Your Illyrian friend asked.

“It is rarely done, as it is difficult to do, but yes.” Came Tarquin’s reply.

“Do it…” You spoke up weakly, every syllable dragging out like a heavy stone. All you wanted to do was collapse into a soft bed and sleep for a year. Kallias was right, you couldn’t do this on your own.

“I must warn you, it will feel strange,” Tarquin’s voice sounded, and you felt Viviane and Emerie step away as the High Lord of the Summer Court took your hand that was not glowing with a trail of magic. “My magic is very different from yours, and your first instinct may be to expel it. Refrain from resisting.”

You nodded, opening your eyes and looking up at Tarquin. He nodded, and his hand moved up to your wrist, clamping down. You rotated your arm slightly to do the same, taking a deep breath. The male began to emit a soft glow, the whites of his eyes seeming to brighten and give him an otherworldly quality.

Seconds later, you felt it.

Tarquin’s magic pushed into your body, and you gasped sharply. It was like a tidal wave was being slammed into you, a raging sea coursing through your veins. It felt the complete opposite of Nesta and Eris’s comforting fire, or your own light-filled power.

Your entire body felt like a riptide, and you could practically taste the salty air of summer on your tongue as your bones vibrated with new magic. You willed yourself to relax, to accept the foreign power being pumped into you. As you did so, your limbs felt stronger. Exhaustion was chased away, and you were finally able to open your eyes. A thin, golden band of magic circled in figure eights between your attached hands, dancing and twisting around each other.

“Thank you,” you whispered to Tarquin.

He nodded. “We must remain linked for the magic to prevail. An hour should give your body enough time to recover and reset.”

With renewed energy, you felt the white light in your free palm glow brighter, urging the Illyrian females out of the mountains.

**********************

The sun was beginning to creep up five hours later, and Tarquin’s boost of magic had vanished a while ago. Viviane was now holding you up once again, your head droopy as you fought to keep that light strong. You felt it was close, which made it easier to hang on.

“They’re approaching,” You said through gasped breaths.

Emerie shot up from where she was sitting, the jerky she was chewing on falling to the ground. “You can feel them?” She asked eagerly.

“No,” you responded as Kallias, Tarquin, and the soldiers perked up. “But my magic feels close, and we have to assume that means they are close as well.”

Tarquin turned to one of his guards. “Winnow to the ships and tell Cresseida we are almost ready to receive the refugees.” He ordered, and the guard disappeared within seconds.

The hope in Emerie’s eyes as she gazed into the Steppes rekindled some strength within you. You gently pushed yourself off of Viviane, taking a shaky step towards where Emerie was looking.

“What’s that?” Viviane asked, pointing to one of the rocky hills in the distance near the mountains. Both the High Lords joined her where she stood a few feet away from you and Emerie.

A faint, glowing white doe stood upon the hill. Stardust seemed to swirl around its feet as it leapt over the rocks bounding through the plains towards the beach. Everyone held their breath, silence filling the air.

“Come on…” Emerie muttered nervously.

Moments later, a set of wings appeared where the doe was – a female carrying a lit torch. She was so far away, even with your fae eyesight it was hard to tell for sure who it was. But then another one appeared beside her, slightly taller, carrying a large sac.

“Lift the glamour!” Viviane barked at Kallias, who snapped his fingers. The air shimmered for a second before clearing. The doe continued to bound toward you, getting fainter and fainter as you felt the last bit of energy you had controlling your magic slipping.

More and more sets of wings appeared over the rocky hill, the torches going from one to a hundred in minutes. Like an army ready for battle, hundreds and hundreds of winged females stepped down onto the plains. Emerie let out a choked sob from beside you.

“By the Mother…” Tarquin gasped softly. “They made it!”

“There’s so many of them…” Viviane said with awe as more and more torches and winged bodies funnelled out of the mountain pass. Sure enough, through your blurry and exhausted vision, you managed to make out the sight of a swarm of bodies stepping onto the flat stretch, shuffling towards the now glamour-free beach.

As they grew closer and guards scurried about with preparations, you breathed a sigh of relief. And then the world grew dark as you collapsed into Tarquin’s arms with exhaustion.

**********************

An otherworldly headache pounded against your skull as you blinked open your eyes, the golden sunlight shining into your face too bright to handle. Your entire body felt heavy, like a stone at the bottom of the ocean. When you groaned, a familiar hand brushed some hair out of your face.

“Why hello there,” came the familiar silky voice of Eris.

With as much effort as you could, you pried your eyes open and blinked a few times to adjust to the brightness. Eris was seated beside you, leaning against the frame of the bed you were laying in with a book in one hand. He donned a white shirt with a deep v-neck and loose sleeves, paired with light green trousers. His long red hair was braided back, a few strands framing his sharp face. He smiled gently. “How are you feeling?”

“Exhausted,” you mumbled, relaxing into his touch as he continued to stroke your face. “Where am I?”

“One of Helion’s quarters,” Eris said, bringing a cup of water to your lips and coaxing the liquid into your mouth. “You passed out right as the Illyrians arrived, and Tarquin brought you straight here.”

The Illyrians.

You sat up abruptly, ignoring the protest of your tired body. “They made it? The ships got them here safely?”

Eris smiled, nodding. “Yes, my dear. All eight thousand of them.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “Eight thousand? How many came from the Hewn City?”

“Five thousand, as to be expected. Many families had already made it to Velaris safely, so there were not as many females as in Illyria left behind.”

The room spun around you with shock. The white marble bookcases across from your bed seemed to sway, and you shook your head. “Wow,” was all you could murmur.

Eris gently pulled you against his chest, kissing your head. “Wow, indeed. I am so proud of you, my dear. You’ve saved the lives of thirteen thousand females today. They know what you did for them, and Nesta has had to practically barricade your door to keep them from barging in here to thank you.”

“Where is Nesta?” You asked.

“She will be here in a few minutes,” Eris replied. “You began to stir half an hour ago, so I sent word to her. She was with the other High Lords helping crunch numbers for which courts are taking which females.”

You sighed with content, the warmth of Eris’s body relaxing you. You turned on your side, wrapping an arm around him and snuggling closer to your mate. “I can’t believe we pulled that off,” you murmured.

Eris cocked his head, setting his book aside on the table. “Why? It was a good plan, and we thought through every possible scenario to ensure its success.”

“How did negotiations with Rhys go?”

Your husband let out a sharp laugh. “Seeing Rhysie is always such a treat,” he chuckled. “He fell for the bait quite easily. We waited for half a day in our ships before the Illyrians descended from the skies and the Darkbringers appeared on the shoreline, all ready for a battle that would not happen. I demanded an audience, and Rhys complied. I talked his ear off for a few hours, and let him whine about the supposed unfairness of all this. It got painfully dull after a while, but I found out something very interesting…”

You perked up, peering up at the male who had a smug look on his face. “What?”

“Rhysand broke his bargain with Koschei. After the baby was born, he travelled to the depths of the lake in which the Death God dwells and declared his intentions to not hold up his end. There was a price to be paid, of course, one I find very symbolic.

“Rhys has relinquished almost all of his power to Koschei. His magic was ripped out of him and fed to the beasts beneath the lake floors like a bone to a dog. He was left with the bare minimum to keep Velaris safe enough, but that’s it. Furthermore, he is required to visit Koschei once a month for a week – a mirror of that very same bargain he made with dear Feyre over a year ago. By doing so, he guaranteed Koschei will not go after Nesta, not with a new plaything at his disposal.”

Your jaw went slack. “Rhys… lost his powers?” You repeated in shock.

Eris didn’t even bother trying to refrain his smile from widening. “Yes. I think it’s justice, personally. I cannot say I feel bad for him in the slightest. It also seems Feyre told him that in the process of breaking the bargain, he had to find a way to keep Nesta alive as well. For all his faults, he will do whatever Feyre asks of him at this point. That is a blessing for us.”

You exhaled shakily. Rhys was one of the most powerful High Lords, now diminished to a regular High Fae male in a small city. There would be no gaining control of Illyria and the Hewn City now with this loss of power, you realised. “I can’t believe this…” You said, still rattled with shock.

Eris rubbed your shoulder. “Anywho, once he told me that story we made some reassurances to each other. Me and Tamlin’s ships departed slowly, giving the armies more time to linger and make sure we had left before returning home to find almost half of their population gone. The distraction worked perfectly, I am sure they are in a tizzy about it as we speak.”

Before you could answer, the door to your guest chambers swung open to reveal Nesta. Her hair was in a singular braid, hanging across her shoulder. She wore a shining gold dress that was carefully draped over one shoulder, the fabric hanging loosely across her chest. Your eyes popped open, and Eris laughed beside you.

“I have never seen you wear something like this before,” he chuckled.

Rolling her eyes, Nesta closed the door behind her and came over to sit on your other side. “Oh, please,” she snapped. “Helion picked it out personally. I couldn’t not wear it, it’s his court after all.”

“I’m not complaining,” you insisted as Nesta gave you a kiss on the forehead.

“He is a relentless flirt,” Eris said, amused. “But one with good taste.”

You sighed as Nesta rubbed your back, despite her death glare she sent at Eris. The three of you sat in silence for a few minutes, happy to be back in each other’s company. With your mates by your side, the weariness you had felt began to diminish.

“I want to see the females,” you said. “I want to make sure they’re okay.”

“Emerie is taking good care of them and the dragons are guarding the borders,” Nesta said gently. “You need to rest.”

You shook your head, sitting up and peeling the soft duvet off. You crawled over Eris’s legs, unsteadily placing your feet on the white marble ground.

“Take it easy,” Eris chided, holding your elbow. “Your body is exhausted. You can see them tomorrow.”

“No,” you said sharply, standing up like a newborn deer and heading over to the closet in the corner. “After everything we’ve done to see this through, I need to see them with my own eyes.”

Nesta and Eris exchanged a glance, but didn’t protest. You ignored them and grabbed the white dress Helion had hung up in there for you, peeling off your nightgown. You pulled the soft fabric on, tying the gold belt around your waist. “Where are they staying right now?” You asked.

“Many are in the main hall,” Eris replied, standing up. “Others are in temporary camps set up across the fields. I believe those residing in the main hall are currently at dinner.”

“Great,” you said, holding out your hand. “Take me there, please.”

“As you wish,” Nesta said, taking your other arm while Eris grasped your extended hand.

After ten minutes of meandering through Helion’s royal hallways, you came to the dinner room, passing through the white columns at the entrance.

Your jaw nearly dropped. Hundreds of females sat at tables or on comfortable floor mats, hearty soups in hand as they chatted quietly amongst themselves. A group of musicians played in the corner, the gentle tune echoing in the grand chamber. Dozens of eyes turned towards you as Eris and Nesta led you through the crowd towards the table at the front, where Emerie, Tamlin, Lucien, Helion, Thesan, Tarquin, Cresseida, Kallias, and Viviane were seated. Gwyn and Azriel sat at the end, partially hidden in the shadows. When your friend saw you, she smiled brightly and waved. You breathed a sigh of relief, seeing her safe after everything she had done.

Lucien stood up, coming around the front of the table to greet you. His eye gleamed with pride as he opened his arms. “Come here, you,” he said cheerfully.

Peeling away from your mates, you lept into Lucien’s arms, hugging him tightly. Your friend chuckled, squeezing you reassuringly. “Glad you made it out okay,” he said.

“You too,” you replied, pulling away and smiling at him. “We did it. We really did it.”

“I told you, you’d make a good High Lady,” came a familiar gruff voice. Tamlin had risen as well, approaching behind Lucien and offering you a small smile. “We are all very proud.”

“Thank you, Tam.” You said gratefully. His large hand patted you on the back before returning to his place at the table.

Nesta gently grabbed your hand. “Come, you must eat.” She guided you towards one of the three empty chairs at the centre of the long table. It was covered in various fruits, roasted vegetables with sauces, and about ten different kinds of meat. Your mouth watered as you realised how hungry you were.

On the way, you stopped beside Gwyn and Azriel, leaning down to hug your friend. “Thank goodness you’re okay,” you murmured into Gwyn’s shoulder.

“Ye of little faith,” she said sarcastically “I was fine. All I did was chat up some priestesses, they were the ones who mostly spread the word. I was safe and sound.”

You pulled away. “Come join us at our end of the table!”

The priestess shook her head. “I’m okay here, it’s too crowded over there.”

“You mean you want to just sit here and ogle Azriel,” Nesta singsonged with a gleam in her eyes.

Gwyn’s face went red, and to your surprise, Azriel flushed slightly as well. “Shut the fuck up,” she snapped at Nesta playfully, shifting in her seat.

“It’s okay, Gwyn,” Eris piped up, winking at the shadowsinger, who seemed like he wanted to bury himself alive. “He is quite pretty to look at. But should you change your mind and like to join us, let us know.”

You laughed, Gwyn’s muttering and cussing you out as you, Nesta, and Eris took your seats at the table. As you dove into the plate of food in front of you, you tuned into the lively sounds of the room while Nesta and Eris began chatting with Helion.

Many of the females kept glancing at you, some offering smiles or nods before returning to their company. Some were huddled in the corner, eyes wary as they consistently scanned their surroundings. You wondered how many females had similar stories to Emerie, or to Morrigan. How many had suffered for years and accepted it because they believed that is how things would always be? How many had been spared future suffering because of their escape?

As you downed your goblet of wine, you reminisced on that day in the House of Wind last year when you had first started your plan to flee the Night Court and seek revenge on its leaders. Never did you think that it would go this far, that you would accomplish this much. All you had wanted was to be free and be able to make your own choices. And now it led to seeking that same outcome for thousands of others.

Rhys could never hurt you again. Those painful images of that cruel, dark mist lashing your bare skin over and over again would fade into distant memory eventually, with no fear of it ever happening again. He couldn’t lock you or Nesta up, or threaten you. No, you both had more power than him now by a long measure. You were finally free from his grasp.

A year ago you had been angry at Feyre, too. Part of you still was, and delighted in the karmic justice of destroying part of her court in retribution. But you hoped for her sake, that she would accept the help offered in the letter Nesta had planned to send. For a moment, you wondered if Feyre would still be who she was now if she hadn’t met Rhys.

“What are you thinking about?” Eris asked you, leaving Nesta to argue with Helion herself.

His amber eyes were soft and kind, the cruel mask that he had plastered on for so many centuries cracked and slipped away. The world could see Eris for who he truly was not, not just as Beron’s firstborn son.

You smiled. “How I can’t wait for everything here to be sorted so we can go home.”

“Me too, my dear, me too.” He squeezed your hand and surveyed the room again. “You have accomplished what many in the likes of my father deemed impossible. Now even the most stubborn fae realise that things can change fast if they will it so. That is a very good thing.”

“Yes, it is.”

The road ahead would not be without challenge. Settling thirteen thousand females into six courts would be a process, and there would surely be setbacks along the way. But after a year of being tortured, beaten, sneaking around and scheming, you were ready for some normal problems.

“Eris?” You said.

He turned to face you once again. “Yes?”

“I love you. And thank you, for everything you’ve done. None of this would have been possible if you hadn’t agreed to help me last year.”

The High Lord of the Autumn Court laughed, kissing your cheek gently. “It is I who should be thanking you. Both of you. You freed me from the prison of my old life. And not just me, but thousands of others. I intend on spending eternity thanking you for it.”

So you laced one hand in Eris’s, and the other in Nesta’s as they both looked at you with so much love in their eyes you were sure you would explode. As much as you liked the Day Court, you yearned to be back in Autumn where you belonged, under the bright trees and wandering the forest paths. As if echoing your thoughts, Zôrzimril’s call echoed on the wind like an ancient song.

And so the yellow rays of sunshine morphed into orange and red, and the sun began to set. You felt a faint brush of a hand on your shoulder, and a familiar, ethereal voice sounded in your ear barely above a whisper.

Well done, my child.

As the sun finally disappeared behind the mountains, the echoing voice faded with it.

taglist (comment if you want to be added): @queercontrarian @kitkat-writes-stuff @moonfawnx @sevikas-whore @weird-and-wise @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet @kingshitonly @ladyofcherries @eerievixen @readingwritingwatching @peacecoffeeandflowers @a-frog-with-a-laptop @shadowqueen25 @lana08 @highladyofillyria @rachelnicolee @ladespedidas @little-darlingo @manonblackbeakquidditchteam13 @demirunner @terorovaerangi @hauntedandhopeful @younxii @microwaveallthedemons @fanfictioniseverything @lovra974 @maddietheshoe @peaceandcrackers @emy1-99 @lostinfantasyworldsbi @issybee0611 @thoughtfulshepherdmongerkid @belledawnidk @whhyyynottt @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @littlebbb @piceous21 @sevendeadlyshins-blog @searchingford @marigold-morelli @thesapphiclibrarian @nikovasbitch @chasing-autumns-chill @the-sweet-psycho @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @red-bees @daughterofthemoons-stuff @bloodicka @blackgirlmagicforever @writeroutoftime @paleidiot @

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darlingshane · 1 year ago

Text

Salt of the Earth ~ Part 1

Pairing: Michael Berzatto x OFC

Summary: She was Carmy's best friend growing up, and Michael never looked at her as anything other than that until years later when she comes back to Chicago to start over. In the process, she turns his sorry excuse of a life upside down.

Content/Warnings: Friends to lovers, Fluff, Angst, Family Drama, Dysfunctional relationships, Implied/referenced drug addiction, Alcohol mention, Divorce, Pets, Pet names, Dialogue heavy. Undisclosed age gap (in my mind Michael is late 30s and OC is late 20s, but it's really up to your interpretation).

Word Count: 6.8k // 4 chapters // AO3 link.

A/N: This is set in the year of the Fishes episode on season 2. It starts in summer and slowly builds up to that Christmas.

— This was an anon request that I got a few months ago, I hope you're still around. I tried to fit all the ideas you sent as best I could. There's a bit of info dump on the first chapter, but I hope it isn't too off-putting.

Chapter 1: Best thing since sliced bread

Seconds stretch into minutes, minutes elongate into long hours on slow days like this at The Beef. Especially in summer when the air conditioner stops working for the second time in the middle of August. Any living soul that crosses that door must have a dying wish or be the devil themselves to adventure themselves to what has become Michael's personal hell.

It's been a testing year, and there's so much he can do to fix this place right now. While he waits for Fak to come check the damn AC unit, Michael tends the front while Ebra takes his lunch break.

Turning the paper's pages on the counter, he comes across an article about the extensive fires eating different parts of the country. A wretched thought crosses his mind as he reads – maybe it'd be better to burn this place to the ground and start over. He entertains the idea for a second until the door swings open, inviting more heat into the boiling pot.

He lifts his eyes from the words to find a familiar face approaching the counter. It's not Fak, but a much better vision of someone he used to know.

“Mayhem Maya.”

“Magic Mikey.”

That former thought of burning down this place disappears somewhere in the midst of that beautiful aura that saunters with her big brown eyes, long raven hair, nervous smile, and firm steps.

“It's been a while, Maybird.” Almost ten years since she set foot in this establishment. “What brings you to this hole in the wall?”

“Came to collect that meatball sub you promised at uncle Teddy's funeral, remember?”

“Oh, right.”

Ever since she moved to a different state, he only had seen her a handful of times when she came back for the holidays. Last time he saw her was at the beginning of spring, when her uncle, Ted Silva, passed away.

“I also had an interview at the new vet clinic on the next block.” She places her cross-body bag on an empty stool while she perches her ass on the one next to it.

“How's that going? Did you get tired of California already?”

“No, I love California. But I needed a change of scenery. It's been rough after… you know…” the divorce. She wasn't married for long, but she still can't bring herself to say the word.

“I’ve heard some of it.” He’s pretty much aware of how everything went down. Well, he’s got grapevine’s juicy version of the story, but he never heard her side directly.

Though Michael and Maya know each other as if they were related, they were never close confidants. She always thought he was the coolest guy in Chicago. And he always thought fondly of her, given their families association, and Maya’s close friendship with his brother.

Michael places an order for her sandwich and grabs a soda for her, while she explains she has two more job interviews later.

“Does your mother know you're back?” He folds the paper and props his elbows on the counter.

“She probably does.”

“Still not talking, huh?”

“It's not my fault she made me the black sheep of the family. She’s like vitriol on steroids.”

“Yeah? What happened at the wake? You left before I could say goodbye.”

Michael recalls the tension at the funeral, particularly at the wake when Angela Silva grabbed Maya by the elbow and took her youngest daughter outside the house as if she was still a child that needed to be scolded.

“Nothing. I barely said a word that day. Guess everything I do feels like a personal attack to her. I can admit that I'm not perfect, and that sometimes I've acted up just to get a reaction out of her, but that day she just went off again…” She pauses without finishing that thought to take a refreshing sip of her coke. “And that wasn't nearly as bad as the day I told her I was getting…”

“Divorced? Why can't you say the word? It's not Voldemort.”

“What the hell do you know about Voldemort?”

“How do I… Who took you and Carmy to buy those damn books? Have you forgotten?” Maya shakes her head. “You even tried many times invoking his name, so I was haunted by eaters or something like that. You two were real potterheads.”

“And you were just a pothead,” she laughs, stirring the ice cubes in her drink with a straw. “I totally blocked that out. We were just a couple of nerds.”

“I’d say!”

“Meatball sub!” Richie calls from the pass-through window and takes a second look when catching Maya in the joint. “Maya Papaya?!”

“Please, don’t call me that.” She scoffs while Richie promptly abandons the kitchen and goes around the counter to give her a welcoming hug.

“Did you know she was coming?” He asks Michael, as he props his ass on the bar.

“Had no idea. She just showed up.”

“Did you tell her about Carmy?”

“What about him?”

“He’s in Copenhagen.”

“Oh, I knew about that.”

“You two talk often?”

“Sometimes, I guess.” Barely more likely. They don't even text anymore. She's tried but there's been nothing but crickets at his end for months.

While Richie grills her about Carmy and what she’s been up to, Michael can’t help but look around the shop to notice, from every corner and wall, memories bouncing all at once in his direction. It takes him back in time to those days when she and Carmy were as thick as thieves.

Their shared history goes back to that same street their families have lived on for over thirty years… It’s still clear in his mind, like it was yesterday, when he was forced to babysit them when they wanted to go to the movies or trick-or-treating or the bookstore. That was a little annoying back then, now he fondly remembers all those times in summer, when they’d go to the convenience store to get ice pops on their bikes. Then they’d ride back and sit in the middle of the swanky rug in their living room and watch TV for hours. More than once they were yelled at by Mama Berzatto when she would come home to find melted colorful stains in the fabric. She would lose her shit. Carmy was used to it. Maya wasn’t, but the girl never flinched once cause Donna and her own mother were cut from the same unstable piece of cloth.

Maya and Carmy were really close up until they went separate ways for college. Their bond was something to admire. They had something so special that inevitably, Carmy fell in love with her. She was his best friend and confident. They kept each other's secrets, and Carmy thought she'd feel the same in return. It wasn't a crazy notion. They spent so much time together, everyone thought it'd lead to something more, but that never happened.

Mikey and Richie used to tease the youngest cub relentlessly. They tried multiple times to encourage him to ask her out, but he never found the guts to do it. Especially if it could potentially end their friendship. Carmy didn't want to lose that. Though he never confessed his feelings, Maya always knew. Even in her teens, call it a woman’s intuition, part of her already knew. Maya wished she'd felt the same toward him, but the heart wants what it wants, and she couldn't change that.

What was really fucked up was that she had the most ridiculous crush on the older Berzatto when she was a teen. While she knew he'd never look at her as anything other than Carmy's annoying little friend, that didn't stop her from daydreaming about it for years. It was a secret that no one ever knew and that was placed in a drawer at the back of her mind after she left Chicago.

After graduating, Maya and Carmy stayed in touch for a long time, until their calls and texts became less frequent. They followed different dreams that required a lot of attention and sadly their friendship got hurt in the process.

While she attended Vet School on the west coast, he became a chef on the east.

Maya thrived at school and work. She really went out on her own, and became the woman she always wanted to be. Unsheltered, confident, outspoken. She outgrew her shell and opened herself to new experiences and people. She loved it all. It wasn’t smooth sailing, but for the most part she was pretty happy with her choices.

And now she's back in Chicago, set on a new path and awaiting to see where it takes her.

She’s living in a house in Oak Park with her dog, Coco; Richie fishes out of her. Apparently, she got some money from uncle Teddy, and she’s invested it in a home for her and her beloved staffy.

“Does Carmy know you’re here?” Richie circles back.

“No, I haven't talked to him in months.”

“Why? Did you two have a fall-out or something?”

“There's no why. We're just busy.”

“Mike, help me out here. Weren’t these two fools supposed to get married?”

“Yeah, everyone thought you'd ended up together.”

“Man, I don't know what to tell you, we just didn't,” her head sinks between her shoulders.

“Just get over yourself and hit him up. The kid has been hung up on you since forever. It looks like things didn’t go so well with your marriage and all. You should take that as a sign, you’d never find anyone better than Carmy. The boy could really use some excitement in his life. And so could you.”

“C’mon, leave her alone. Go back to work, Cousin.”

Michael throws her a lifeline, noticing how miserable she looks every time Richie opens his unfiltered mouth.

“He’s not wrong, you know? You and Carmy… it looked like you two had something special.” Michael offers once Richie is back in the kitchen.

“It’s called friendship. You should look it up.” She points out.

“I have Richie.”

“Exactly. You have Richie. Why don't you two marry the other and leave me alone? If you think about it, you were as close to Richie as I was with Carmy. Even more. Should everyone assume you are in love with him? Cause that's what you're implying.”

“Touché. I'll drop it.”

“Look, as hard as it is to believe, there was nothing else between us. I was aware he felt something for me, but I didn’t feel the same.”

“You should give him a chance sometime. He might surprise you.”

It’s not the first time these two have been trying to play matchmaker between Maya and Carmy, and it’s bizarre to see they still do at any given opportunity.

“Okay, if I give Carmy a chance, you have to give Richie a chance. Those are the rules, Berzatto.”

“Oh, I've tried. He's not into me,” he remarks, amused, and leans closer to confess something in a lower voice. “Do you wanna know a secret?”

“Uh, sure.”

“He and Tiffany are having a baby. He just told me a few days ago.”

“What? You let him reproduce? I'll pray for Tiff.”

Chapter 2: Cool as a cucumber

Everything falls slowly into place as Maya settles back in Chicago. She secures the job at the clinic near The Beef, which is a huge relief after her rushed decision of moving back to her hometown without securing a job first. It was part of the plan all along to practice what she loves but never thought this would be the year. As much as she loved California, once her divorce was finalized she felt like something was trapping her there. And the money she got from her uncle gave her some leeway to improvise, get away from all that, and start over.

Maya is spending her morning going through the stack of unpacked boxes, finding a good place for everything, making it feel more homey. It's not a big house, but spacious enough for the two of them. The big selling point was the backyard for Coco to zoom around and cool down in her wading pool, which she loves. It didn't take long for the five-year-old pup to get used to her new neighborhood. They've even made a couple of friends at the park nearby.

A moment before the doorbell rings, Coco whines from her spot by the window, where she often sits to watch passers in the street.

“Who is it?” Maya playfully asks her dog as she makes her way to the front door.

Through the peephole, she sees Michael's profile as he inspects the porch.

“Hi,” her eyes widen as she opens the door. “Didn't know you were coming.”

“Yeah, I would've called, but I didn't get your number the other day.” But he got her address from Richie's intense questioning when she visited the shop.

“I knocked on two different houses until I got the right one,” he explains as Coco curiously circles around his feet, sniffing his pants, hitting his crotch with her nose in the process.

“No, Coco. Sit. How many times have we talked about no nut-tapping?” Maya glances at her with amusement as the dog sits on her haunches.

“It’s fine,” he snorts. “All dogs do that.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. But she’s not any other dog. I thought I had taught her better. So what brings you here?”

“This.” He offers the paper bag hanging in his hand. “It's just a little house-warming gift.”

“You didn't have to.” As she takes the bag from his hand she ushers him inside before closing the door.

“It's nothing, really.”

He glances around as Maya takes out the box from the bag.

“Wow, a set of knives? That's not nothing.”

“Everyone needs one good set of knives. But you can exchange them for something else if you want.”

“No. I like these. But I gotta warn you that I'm not much of a cook, and I'll probably use the same one for everything.”

“That's fine I can show you sometime though. Is she friendly? ” He points at the dog that keeps staring at him. “Can I pet her?”

“Yeah, she loves everyone. Go ahead.”

Michael cautiously pets the brown coat of her head as her floppy ears lower at the passing of his hand.

“Never pictured you with a pit bull.”

“Me neither. I always thought I'd be a cat lady. But I met her at this adoption drive when she was one, and she stole my heart.”

“I can see why.” Michael crouches down, and pets Coco with both hands. “She's really sweet.”

He lets her lick his chin a couple of times before standing back on his feet. Then they go on a tour around the house.

“It's still a work in progress. I'm thinking of painting a few walls, but we like it so far.”

“Yeah, it has good bones.”

“So you don't have to work today?” Asks Maya.

“No, we've had some trouble with the gas line, and we've been shut down for a couple of days.”

“That sucks. Now where am I going to get my sandwiches and coffee on my way to work?”

“Heard Starbucks is pretty good.”

“Shut up. Don't even joke about that.” She playfully shoves his shoulder as they go back to the living room.

“Are you doing something later?”

She shakes her head. “Why?”

“I don't know, thought you were having a comeback party or something.”

“I don't really have any friends here. And I don't feel like inviting my family yet. As you can see, I still have a lot to unpack.”

“Physically or mentally speaking?”

“Both,” she scoffs.

“Let's do something then? Just you and me. We could grab some pizza, or go out for a drink for old times’ sake?”

“Old times’ sake?” It's amusing, surprising and confusing his sudden interest in her. Maybe he can see how pathetic she thinks she is, and he's taking pity on her. Although, that was never Michael style.

“Yeah, c'mon, Mayhem. You look like you could use some fun.” He picks up a book that's sitting on top from the box opened by the couch that's titled — Dating Again with Courage and Confidence: The Five-Step Plan to Revitalize Your Love Life after Heartbreak, Breakup, or Divorce. “And maybe a rebound or something. You don't need a fucking help book. You only need me to show where to get the best guys, or girls. Whatever you're into.”

“Give me that. I don't need a rebound, a help book, or you for all matter finding me a date.”

“No? Then why do you have that?”

“My friend Paige thought I should give it a try.”

“Maybe she was onto something there.”

“I'm perfectly fine. Just want to finish organizing everything, focus on work and this handful I have right here.” Her hand gestures at Coco. “What are you so interested in my love life anyway? First you try to play matchmaker with Carmy, and now you want me to do what, exactly? Hook up with the first guy I see?”

“No, I'm just asking you to go out and have some fun. I know Carmy was the only friend you had here. And if I was in your shoes, I'd feel pretty lonely.”

“I'm not lonely, Michael. Do I miss my friends in Sacramento? Sure,” she admits. “But I don't wanna force anything. I'm just taking it slow. When the time comes I'll jump right in but for now, this is all I need. Really. Stop pitying me.”

“I'm not pitying you, sweetheart.”

“No? Then what is it? Where is this coming from?”

“I don't know… I've always thought you were the salt of the earth. And though we never really hung out together, I thought you could use… But I can see now that you're different, and that you know what you need right now, so I'll just shut up and back off. Let you do your thing.”

“Thank you. I do know what I'm doing, by the way. You don't have to worry about me. I'll be fine. But I appreciate you coming here anyway.”

“Yeah, of course. And I can help you unpack if you need.”

“Hm, if you don't have anything better to do, be my guest. We could grab a pizza later, if the offer still stands. Or just order some food.”

“Sure.”

Michael helps Maya unpack all the boxes and put everything in place in half the time it'd have taken her alone. They order some food for lunch and spend half the day talking and laughing until late in the afternoon when they decide to go out for some drinks to keep the good vibes going.

At the end of the night, she offers to drive Michael back to his apartment as a thank you for inviting her.

“Did you have fun?” Michael asks from the passenger seat as she pulls up in front of his building.

“Yeah, I did. I'm glad I changed my mind.”

“Me too. I didn't know you were this fun. You're nothing like I remember.”

“Yeah, I was kind of weird growing up. You guys probably thought there was something wrong with me. ”

“Nah, don't be so hard on yourself. We were all weird in our own way.”

“Uh-uh. No Michael Berzatto. You were the coolest guy back in the day, and you still are.”

“I don’t know about that,” he scoffs. “For the record… I never thought there was anything wrong with you.”

“You were probably the only one… Anyway, thank you for today. I know I said I didn't need this, but I guess I did.”

“You're welcome, Maybird. I'm glad you’re back.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Thanks for bringing me home,” he softly squeezes her arm before reaching for the handle to open the door.

“No problem.”

“You know you can call me if you ever miss your friends, y’know?” he throws casually.

“I uh…sure. I will.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” she echoes back as he pulls the handle and the door opens.

“Have a good night, Michael,” she says as he gets one foot on the pavement.

“You, too, sweetheart.”

He closes the door and vaguely waves as she sets the car in motion and watches her drive away.

Chapter 3: Don't cry over spilled milk

In the few weeks he's been spending time with Maya, Michael has found himself enjoying her company more than he'd like to admit. Being with her grounds him. She makes him forget for a little while all that's wrong in his life. She's like a beacon in that immerse darkness that his sorry existence has become. Despite having her own set of problems, he's watched her rise above all that with poise. He wonders what it's her secret to her steadfast determination, even when her own family has disavowed her.

After closing shop, he dives into his stash to tame that brewing headache before driving to Oak Park to pay her a visit. She told him earlier via text that she was at Home Depot buying some paint to update the color of her bedroom and asked him to come over to hang out after work.

For some reason, he couldn't say no. Not even the storm in his head is strong enough to deny her request. He has a pull on him, tugging him hard like a dog tied to a leash in her hand, he can’t help but follow her lead.

When he arrives at her house, she's halfway done. Two of the walls shine bright new in a lavender tone as she starts working on the next one.

After having beer and playing a tug of war game with his new friend, Coco, Michael offers his help to finish painting the walls. He uses a brush to paint the corners, while she gracefully uses a roller like a pro with her denim overalls over a tank top, and her raven hair pulled up in a ponytail sprinkled with lavender paint beads. When she lifts one of her arms, he catches a glimpse of a tattoo on the side of her rib cage, leveled to the roundness of her chest that looks like the outline of a dog paw.

“What are you looking at?” She asks after catching him staring.

“You have paint on your chin.”

“Oh.” She wipes it with the back of her hand, but she just spreads the stain along her jaw. “I made it worse, didn't I?”

“Yeah.”

She shrugs it off and continues with the task ahead until the whole wall is covered.

“Is everything okay, Bear?” Maya puts down the paint roller. “You're quieter than usual.”

“Yeah, everything's alright.” It sounds so honest, he almost believes it. “It's just been a long day.”

“I'm sorry that I put you to work.”

“Don't be. This is relaxing.”

“Yeah?” She takes a step back and surveys how much brighter her bedroom looks already after covering most of the former downcast grey. “Is the color right? Do you think it's too girlish?”

Giving the room a once over he says, “it's a good shade. I dig it. It doesn't matter what I think or if it's too girlish, as long as you like it. Do you like it?”

“Yeah. I do.”

She dips the roller on the tray to cover another section of the wall.

“You never told me what happened at the funeral with your mom,” Michael leans on the stepladder, taking a short break.

“Do you really wanna know?” She glances over her shoulder.

“Yeah. Everyone does. I’ve heard some crazy stories about it. Thought I should get it straight from the source.”

“I never pegged you for a gossip girl.”

“I’m not. I’m just making conversation.”

She mockingly narrows her eyes, drawing a lopsided smirk, “liar.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t wanna. But yeah, can’t help being a little curious about it.”

“I don’t mind telling you, but it won’t be as entertaining as those crazy stories people have made up.”

“I’m not here for entertainment. I just wanna hear your side of the story, Maybird.”

Maya lets out a heavy sigh and while keeping her focus on the wall she shares with him what really happened. She’s right to say that is not the best story she’s ever told, though when it comes to her mother, all her stories tend to have a surreal element even she can’t fathom sometimes.

That day at the funeral, she was taken outside during the wake by Angela Silva to get scolded about her imminent divorce. It wasn’t finalized by then, and her mom invoked one last Hail Mary to convince her to stay with her husband, who was also currently dating someone else. It was a messy situation that Maya couldn't wait to get out of, and the fact that her mother never offered an ounce of support wasn’t surprising, but still devastating. Somehow, Angela found that the reason for her separation from her husband was that Maya didn’t want to have kids, and that really vexed Angela. All she wanted for her three kids was to follow the same traditional path Angela was forced into, no matter how miserable she was. Her two older sisters followed her mother’s narrowed traditional values. But Maya, ever-the-nonconformist, swore she would never follow anyone’s drum beat but her own. Her husband thought she’d change her mind eventually. He was wrong. She knew that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, which led her here, to this moment.

“Is your mom ever happy?” Michael has always wondered.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her happy, except when she’s drunk. That’s why she has to make everyone else miserable.”

“Yeah, but she’s always had a fixation on making you miserable.”

“Like I said, every family needs a black sheep, and I’m it.”

“Is that why you became a vet?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“So, it's true, you don’t wanna have kids? I’m not judging. I’m just curious.”

“I honestly don't know. I just knew that when he told me he wanted to have a baby right away, it didn’t feel right. I said that maybe in six or seven years I’d be okay with it. Told him I wanted to travel and just be us for a while, and he said that was too long to wait. I don’t know… he stopped talking to me, and it was clear that he wasn’t changing his mind, and I wasn’t changing my mind, so. At some point I got tired of trying… He got a girlfriend as soon as I filed for divorce and I got a text from Paige the other day that said he got her already pregnant, like… that was never me. I guess it served me right… I married him on a whim, an impulse without really talking about what we wanted…”

“Hey, don’t feel sorry for yourself. You dodged a bullet there.”

“You really think that?.”

“Yeah, I do. You stood up for yourself and knew when to step back when it didn’t feel right. Not everyone has the balls to do that. Think how miserable you’d be by now if you had tried to please him or your mom. You seem happy now. That's what matters.” He means that with all his heart, and wishes he had the same drive to follow those same steps. As much as he loved the restaurant, he chose to run it to please people within his family. And that love turned into a nightmare he couldn't escape.

“You know… I liked you better when you were quiet,” she quips.

Michael huffs a soft laugh, picking up his brush to resume painting.

When the room is finished, she plugs a couple of fans and closes the door to keep Coco away.

Maya washes her hands and face in the bathroom sink. When she comes out, she catches the motion of Michael's arm as he shoves what looks like a pill into his mouth before taking a gulp of water from one of her glasses.

“What was that? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. It's just a headache,” looking down, he runs a palm over his short growing beard.

“Is it the fumes?”

“No, I had it before coming here.”

“Michael,” she sighs softly at his name. “You should've told me. I wouldn't have let you help if I knew.”

“Would you stop that? I wanted to help.”

“Okay, c'mere. Let's sit down.”

“No, I think I should get going.”

“Nonsense. I'm not going to let you drive until you feel better.”

He yields with a long exhale, and follows Maya into the living room, where her bed is settled askew in the middle of the space.

She takes a seat on the edge of the mattress and waits for him to sit next to her.

“Give me your hand,” she shows her palm up, as his eyes narrow. “C'mon, don't be a baby, give me your hand, Berzatto.”

“When did you become so bossy?” He slowly lifts his hand and as he lays it on top of her palm, his fingers tremble upon contact with her skin. Maya then uses her opposite hand to clip the webbing between his thumb and pointer fingers with her own and begins massaging that spot.

“My friend Sierra is really into acupressure. She says this is a pressure point that helps with headaches.” She explains while slowly increasing the force. “Does it hurt?”

“Not one bit. Is that like acupuncture?” His voice comes as a whisper as he focuses on her diligent fingers.

“Kinda. I think. I’m not really sure.”

“You don't have to fix me, you know?”

“I'm not trying to fix you, Bear. I just wanna make you feel better.”

“Admit it. You just love a good wounded animal.”

She smiles softly, placing his hand down on his knee and picking up the other. “Does it feel any different?”

He’s not really sure, it wasn’t truly a headache that led them to take that pill but the annoying rambling of his thoughts. She shouldn’t have seen that. And he shouldn’t have lied. But having her hands on his like this is straight up lovely. Inside of him, it truly feels like something is broken, wounded, and missing, and this is giving him a sliver of relief as he waits for the pill to kick in. If he was a better man, he’d tell her the truth. But he’s too far gone for saving. All he can do is keep that facade up.

“Does it?” She insists after not getting an answer.

“A little.”

“Do you wanna lay down?”

Swallowing, he responds with a nod, and they both lean back on the mattress at the same time. Looking at the ceiling, she keeps kneading that pressure point, unsure if she’s even doing it right.

They stay in comfortable silence for a good five minutes and when she finally places his hand down, Maya glances to the side and sees that his eyes have closed, and his chest gently rising and falling. She calls his name softly, but she can see that behind the sharp edges of his face and the ever-growing shade of his beard, he’s truly exhausted, so she doesn’t insist. She extends her hand to turn off the lamp, and curls on the other side of the bed without disturbing his sleep.

“Good night,” she says softly and closes her eyes.

From a dusty corner of her mind comes crawling that little forgotten part that used to harbor a lot of feelings for Michael. Though a few weeks ago he seemed practically the same Michael she knew, over the past month she’s keenly noticed little changes here and there. His eyes sometimes cast a dark shade tainted in nothing but sadness, it’s barely noticeable for other people. It comes and goes, but it tells her he’s not truly as happy as he pretends to be.

Michael wakes up disoriented at the crack of dawn.

It takes him a few seconds to remember he’s still in Mayas’ bed in the middle of her living room and that the weight that has his arm pinned is her body pressed against his. She’s warmly snuggled on his side, with her arms tucked between his chest and hers, and a peaceful expression on her beautiful face. She’s so awfully close, he can smell the scent of her hair, and feel the heat of her breath every time she exhales.

It's such an odd moment for him to have her that close. He's unsure of whether it would be better to slip out of bed unnoticed before she wakes up, or just stay there and watch her sleep for a bit longer. Either option would make him look like a creep, he thinks. So he opts to gently wake her up. His free hand reaches to his forehead to move a stand of hair away. Her brow scrunches as his light-feather touch grazes her skin. His lips curve up as he traces the shell of her ear to see her stir awake. She blinks slowly a couple of times until her focus shifts onto him.

“Hey, Maybird.”

“Hey.” Her lips move, it's barely audible.

“Sorry, I fell asleep.” His fingers absentmindedly massage her earlobe.

She's so stunned by waking up to that level of intimacy, she simply nods, as her mouth softly draws a smile.

“It's fine. Does your head feel better?”

“Much better. That pressure thing really worked.”

“I'm glad.”

“Listen, I gotta go open. Maybe we could do something later?”

“Okay,” she swallows nervously, hoping that waking up with him like this isn't just a dream. “Can you do me a favor first?”

“Sure.”

“Can you stay five more minutes?”

“I uh… I think I can,” against his better judgment, he decides he can stay for a few minutes more holding her.

The way her lips pull up timidly at the corners, revealing the dimples framing her mouth, completely disarms him. He’s always felt a certain affinity towards her, but being this close to her awakes a longing within that feels dangerous. He can’t bring someone new into his life. Not while everything around him is falling apart. It’s already hard enough having to pretend around other people.

He couldn’t do that to her. He won’t.

Michael will have to fight harder because when her arm tucks around his waist he can’t help but press his lips against her forehead.

Chapter 4: Hard nut to crack

Four months later…

After that initial moment of weakness when he fell asleep on her bed, he fought hard to elude that odd longing that has only grown into a big mass of love toward Maya. To anyone else in the world, a feeling as big as that would be a blessing, especially when it's reciprocated. To Michael, it's a weakness he can't afford right now.

Spending all that time with Maya has been like discovering a whole new planet Michael never thought existed. She's all vast, uncharted territory that fazes him more than it should. Despite his best efforts, he’s fallen into her alluring orbit and can’t find the way out into his own universe.

Far gone is that moody teenager that would mumble a few words here and there. And now there's this tragically stunning woman that looks you directly in the eye, says anything that crosses her mind, and laughs without a care in the world.

Though falling in love with her wouldn’t be completely wrong, it's not quite right either. It fills him with guilt to think about her in that manner. Moreover, it feels like a betrayal to Carmy, who’s far away in a different continent, prospering in his craft.

Michael tries to fool himself into believing that this is just temporary infatuation. He’s even attempted several times to convince her to get in touch with Carmy but hasn’t succeeded. It’d be easier for him if she were to put her focus on someone else instead of him. He has nothing to offer to her and has deemed himself unworthy of her, or anyone for that matter. If she only knew what’s really going on with him, she wouldn’t want Michael nearly as she believes she does.

Layer by layer, she’s tearing all his walls and defenses down. And after all the back and forth, he's absolutely sure she wants more than he can offer her. She’s been giving him the right signals. She doesn't shy away from it. Maya is direct and impulsive, and everything about her is fascinating and intimidating.

It’s time to either cut her loose, or accept that he’s madly in love with her and do something about it.

Amidst coming to terms with a final decision, he's lured into a surprise party she's organized for his birthday.

Michael is left speechless by her determination. And a little annoyed too for reasons he can't explain. To be honest, he’s never been a fan of surprise parties, but the main problem is that this would make things much harder for him to let her down easily. She’s carved herself into his life and the longer he drags this out, the worse this is going to hurt.

He’s aware that it’s selfish and obtuse of him for being that ungrateful that someone who cares that profoundly about him, that they would go all out to prove that. He feels like an asshole, but the train has already left the station.

Using the same tiring self-defense mechanism, he draws his best smile and brings out the Michael everyone seems to love. Not without help. There's always that crutch tucked in his wallet in the form of a pill. Being high numbs him enough to deal with the situation.

The cherry on top comes at the end of the night, when he walks her up to her car and asks if he's had a good time. He lies through his teeth and for the first time, he can tell Maya is not buying it. Perhaps she never did, but he's well-versed on her tells by now, and he can clearly see she's fed up with all the bullshit that comes out of his mouth.

“Look, it's not that I didn't like the party. It's just that I hate surprises, and I was exhausted today. But it was a nice thought, sweetheart. I just… I wasn't in the right mood.” It's seemingly convincing the second time around, but her face shows nothing but regret. “I love the jacket you bought me, though.”

Michael has never been interested in fashion, but he's always loved vintage jackets, and the one she picked it's a perfect addition to his collection. It's a bomber jacket, aviator style, in brown leather with a couple of patches and fur collar.

As they reach Maya's car, they come to a stop. She turns to him, “I know I can be a little too much sometimes. But I promise no more surprises from now on.”

“You and I both know, you won’t be able to keep that promise even if your life depended on it. That's part of what makes you– you, sweetheart. Don’t let my bad mood ruin that.”

“I’ll try.”

After a beat, without hesitation she leans in to leave a goodnight kiss on his bearded cheek and on a whim, she decides to press a second one on his lips.

It takes him completely aback. He wants to dive so badly into her mouth, but he freezes on the spot. And when Maya attempts to deepen the kiss, he finally reacts by placing a placating hand on her shoulder as he pulls his head back.

“I'm… I'm sorry we can't do this, Maya.”

“Wait, I thought… Did I misread something?”

“No, you didn’t misread anything. I just can’t do this.”

“Why?”

“I can't.”

“You can't or don’t want to?”

“Guess I don’t want to.”

“Can you at least tell me why? Did I do something wrong?”

“You did nothing wrong, sweetheart.” He wants to spill out the old – it's not you, it's me – excuse, but he refrains. Every thought and action go against every good instinct he's ever had. He hates himself for making her feel insecure. And yet, he can't backtrack now.

“Stop calling me sweetheart. You see how misleading that is?”

“Sorry. I think I gave you the wrong impression.”

Her eyes narrow, and he can see the gears turning for a long moment before opening her mouth.

“I don't think you gave me the wrong impression, Michael. I think you're too chickenshit to admit that there's something between us and, for whatever reason, you're just taking the coward's way out. You've been weird the whole night, especially with me. I just threw a party just for you, the least you can do is tell me why.”

“I didn't ask you to do that. And I don't owe telling you shit! I was trying to let you go easy, but nothing is ever easy with you. So I'll just say it. This, you and me, is never going to happen.”

It sounds ridiculous as it comes out of his mouth, but he stands firm on that statement as her heart breaks in front of him.

In the end, it'd be better for her, he believes.

#michael berzatto x ofc #michael berzatto #the bear #the bear fanfiction #jon bernthal fanfiction #jon bernthal #original character #michael berzatto x reader #angst #fluff #darlingwrites #sorry i used the reader tag #it's the only way to get my fic seen #salt of the earth

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aftgficrec · 2 months ago

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Hi! I was wondering if you know of any fics that explore the friendship between Andrew and Kevin? Especially how they became close after Kevin came to the Foxes with a broken hand. I just think their friendship is so interesting, and I am so curious about how it started. Thank you!

@lynntjeeee and @sayonara-you-weeaboo-shits: These asks overlapped, so we combined them and separated fic types with subheads. The last ones under ‘you may also like’ don’t fit neatly but still hold the main ideas found in pre canon Kevin & Andrew stories. Unfortunately most are not very long. -A

also see:

‘a foxhole collection…’ Chapter 30 here

‘The gentle violence of loving you’ and ‘I Don't Know How to Breathe’ here

‘I came for the safety (stayed 'cause you made me feel)’ here

‘Searchlights’ here

‘Trust Me’ here

you may also like:

higher ground by darkoceanbottom [Rated T, 6085 Words, Complete, 2021]

Kevin Day and identity.

tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: canonical character death

Roaring Like Beasts Full Of Rage by Sashe [Rated E, 30713 Words, Incomplete, Updated June 2024]

The PSU Foxes' luck takes a turn when they take in the Raven's injured goalkeeper Andrew Doe. Andrew isn't exactly happy to be there, treated as a spectacle by the media, an outcast by his new team and a let down by the family that never wanted him. He's especially not happy about the new striker recruit, who no one else seems to think is supicious. or Roleswap canon divergent where Raven!Andrew has a broken hand and Wymack has been raising Kevin.

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced psychological abuse, tw: implied/referenced drug addiction, tw: panic attacks

The Truth Hurts Worse by mcmeasle [Rated T, 2742 Words, Complete, 2024]

Kevin chattered on as Andrew opened the door and tuned out the cadence of his voice, Kevin’s full attention on Andrew. Immediately, Andrew locked on to the man with bright red hair sitting in his desk chair, feet thrown on top of the desk with ankles crossed, tapping an impressive looking knife blade over his fingertips. “Welcome home,” the stranger said cheerily, a sharp smile wending its way onto his lips, icy blue eyes locked onto Andrew. —- Or Butcher!Neil makes a house call

tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon

decline of the empire by drewdrugs [Rated T, 1507 Words, Complete, AFTG Mixtape Exchange 2024]

Kevin embraced the idea that, even he had never been taught by his father, he was learning to lose now. The structures of his coliseum were crumbling and there was nothing that could be done to stop it. This time, Andrew couldn't do anything for him. Or at least that's what he believed.

tw: recreational drug use, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced self harm

NB: this last one is the culmination of Kevin & Andrew’s deal from the very beginning

Interesting by ashestoashes7 [Rated T, 6632 Words, Complete, AFTG 2024 Olympics]

Andrew decided to make the Exy Olympic Finals more interesting. No one else knew what to do with that, not even his own teammates, but Andrew and boredom was a recipe for the unexpected. After all, it was not every day a goalkeeper slammed the ball down the court and bathed the opposition in red.

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ashleyfilm · 3 months ago

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Seeing Clearly - Chapter 5. Movie Night

Please leave comments, I'd love to know your thoughts. And if you feel inclined to reblog, that would be so nice.

Chapter Warnings: cursing - Minors - DNI

Characters: Jackson!Joel Miller x F!Reader Plus Size. F!OC was recommended to me since there's a lot of description of her but I'm writing her as You (Reader) so hopefully you can still imagine yourself. Black hair, glasses, tattoos, big body, wears dark clothes, won't stop talking. Joel is tv show Jackson Joel.

Story Summary: Joel just saved your life, begrudgingly. He doesn't know exactly why but he brings you back to Jackson and you ingratiate yourself into his very small circle and his life. This takes place after season 1 of TLOU and season 2 doesn't exist in my brain because no.

Chapter Summary: You start your job at the library, meet a new resident of Jackson and Joel takes you to the movies. 1.8K

Thank you to @saradika-graphics for the book line divider. :)

Chapter 1 Here Chapter 2 Here Chapter 3 Here Chapter 4 Here

Chapter 5. Movie Night

After stopping by the clothing swap, Joel walks you to the library in your “new” old black t-shirt, with the faded logo of Guns n’ Roses, one of your favorite bands from childhood, you can still remember most of the words to the entire Use Your Illusion II album. Your eyes lit up when you found it and it actually fits you, even a tiny bit loose, your favorite. Joel couldn’t help the smile that formed on his plush lips seeing you full of glee, like a child that never went through any of this shit. At the library, you meet an older gentleman named Doc, long grey hair, warm smile and a sparkle in his eyes. He’s hoping to retire this year and you’re just in time to learn the ropes and take over. He walks you through the stacks and what he’s been able to do with the last three years he’s spent there. Organizing, cataloguing, working out distribution to the townsfolk. He even encourages you to suggest your own ideas on how to facilitate the place. You take your time walking around and looking at the books, all in various stages of use, but mostly well held up. Sometimes there are even multiple copies of something where the beginning is in one and the end in the other.

It's magical, being surrounded by all these stories, all these means of escape. And you haven’t even gotten to the VHS tape section with the movies. You grew up going to the video store every Friday with your parents, picking out something for them and something for you. Sitting in your room and watching the stories unfold before your eyes. You even worked in a video store before the outbreak, studied filmmaking in school. This place is already healing you. You can feel it. “Ash, got a visitor here, needs help finding something,” Doc says to break you from your reverie. You walk to the front desk and find a young man, probably in his early 30s, blonde hair, average height, good looking, but kind of like the asshole in your high school that’s on the soccer team and makes fun of you in front of his friends. “Ash, is it? I heard we had a newbie in town. I’m Ryan, nice to meet you,” he says as he takes your hand and gives it a squeeze. You still at the touch, people don’t really touch like this anymore and you haven’t been touched since you got here except for Joel and that was …different.

“Hi, uh, what can I help you with?” You say curtly. “Well, I’m looking for something to read, maybe something sci-fi, think you can help me out,” he says with a smirk. This guy isn’t here to read, he’s here to get the info on the new girl, ugh fuck off. “Um, sure, follow me.” Even though you’re new, you’ve quickly made a map in your head of the library space and the way Doc has taken to organizing and grouping things. You head straight to fiction section, which is currently just by author last name, you’ll change that. Wanting to get this over quickly, you look for H.G. Wells, and find The Invisible Man and hand it to the guy. So, Brad or whatever the fuck his name is will get away from you. “A Grotesque Romance,” he says reading the subtitle on the cover. “Interesting choice,” again with the smirk. “Yup, hope you enjoy it,” you say not really looking at him anymore. “I’m sure I will,” he says looking your body up and down. “See ya around, Ash.” You smile quickly and turn to walk away. Well, that’s the first person you’ve met that you immediately dislike, you guess it was bound to happen in a town with this many fucking people. A very obvious downside.

At the end of your shift, you say goodbye to Doc and start on your walk to the dining hall that will be turned into a movie theatre for the evening for a viewing of Jurassic Park. Your tote bag, courtesy of your new boss, filled with three books. Carrie by Stephen King for you, a graphic novel called, Somewhere in the Stars for Ellie, and No Country for Old Men by Cormac McCarthy for Joel. You wonder if he’ll like your old man joke or not. And like you’ve manifested him; he’s standing outside the library leaning against a lamppost, waiting for you. He’s stunning, standing with his arms crossed against his chest, in a green flannel with red lines and the sleeves rolled up to reveal his thick forearms and his hair wet and slicked back. And he’s there for you. He looks up and notices you walking towards him, you bite your lip to try and hide your smile. “Well, how’d it go?” He asks with his mouth in a line but his eyes, they’re different, warmer. “Good,” you answer, “Doc’s really lovely and it’s amazing how many books you all have.” He watches you speak, and you think he might see something new, and you feel it too, invigorated. You begin to walk in step with one another to the movie night.

“I got Ellie something,” you say as you dig into your bag and retrieve the graphic novel, handing it to Joel. He smiles warmly, probably thinking of Ellie and says, “She’ll love this.” After he hands it back you put it away and reach for the book you got for him, “And this …is for you.” Your hold your breath hoping he likes your choice. “Old Men, that a crack on me, sweetheart?” He says with a chuckle. Sweetheart, he just called you sweetheart. He continues, “Thank you, that’s real kind. Always wanted to read this one, never had the chance, always workin’ too much before everything happened.” “Good, well now you can.” He hands it back and your fingers brush just slightly and like this morning you feel a bolt of electricity run through you. You look away and hope he can’t see the blush on your cheeks.

When you walk into the theatre together, quite a few people look your way with curiosity. You don’t know if it’s because you’re new in town or because you’re with the big, bad Joel Miller. But soon, you don’t care because you smell the popcorn and hear people laughing and see the big projector screen. And you almost sob right then and there. Joel’s watching you in wonder. He lightly touches your shoulder, leaning in close he whispers, “Go pick out a seat wherever you want, I’ll get us some snacks.” A shiver runs down your spine and he’s gone. You find what you deem the perfect seat, close to the middle and along the center aisle. You see Ellie who gives you a wave and wanders after a pretty, dark-haired girl around her age. She looks so happy, and it makes your heart clench in your chest. You start to worry how much you’ve gotten comfortable here, it’s a lot so soon. And you worry that it could all be taken away, like everyone and everything in your life already has.

Before you can spiral too far into your mind, Joel sits next to you. “You couldn’t pick a place a little less surrounded by people?” he says with a grunt. “Hey, you said anywhere I want,” you pout at him. “That I did, I guess I shouldn’t leave it up to you next time,” he says with another hint of a laugh. Did he say next time? Did you really hear that? The movie starts to play, and you and Joel share popcorn, he holds it for you and offers it over to you every couple of minutes. You hear the music by John Williams, and it takes you back. When you were a little girl and your parents would sit you between them and watch you as your eyes lit up taking it all in, so enthralled. Popcorn now long forgotten, it comes to one of the parts you’ve never forgotten, when the girl, is about to fall through the ceiling and the velociraptors are underneath her dangling body and they snap at her legs. You jump out of your skin and grab onto Joel’s hand. After the jump scare you start to laugh, still holding onto him, then you look over at him and he’s already looking at you, a soft smile on his face, until both your smiles fade replaced with a longing gaze until he drops your hand and turns back to the movie. You worry you’ve gone too far, asked for too much, too soon. You clasp your hands back in your lap and try to enjoy the rest of the movie in silence.

As the T-Rex screams and the banner falls, the room is filled with applause. Everyone loved this movie; it didn’t matter who you were. The lights come on and everyone begins to make their way out into the night air of Jackson. Joel says he’s going to find Ellie and for you to “stay put.” Eyeroll. Unfortunately, that’s when Brad or whoever the fuck from earlier decides to come and say hello. “Hi there, Ash. How’d you like the movie?” he says while again looking you up and down. “It’s great, one of my favorites but I guess you weren’t born when it came out, huh?” You don’t even know if it’s true you just want to infantilize him, so he’ll go away. Instead, he laughs and touches your arm, “You may be right about that one.” Suddenly, Joel is back at your side with Ellie, “Time to go.” He says to you gruffly. Ellie is looking between you, Joel and what’s his name wide-eyed like she’s waiting for fireworks or a fight to break out. “Oh, hey Joel, I didn’t know you knew our girl, Ash here,” he says with a smirk, looking only at you. “She’s staying with us, Ryan.” Joel says, fist clenched at his side. Ryan, oh that’s his name. “Okay, well maybe you can save me a seat next time, Ash,” Ryan says with a tip of his hat gesture, the dumbass isn’t even wearing a hat. Idiot. “Bye,” you say as you turn to walk after Ellie and Joel. Ellie hangs back with you as Joel darts off ahead of you. With a grin Ellie says, “What was all that about, huh?” You look at her with a disgusted look on your face, “I honestly have no idea.” Over the next several days, you avoid Brad/Ryan like the plague. Haha, plague. And sadly Joel barely speaks to you, but he does leave out your wolf mug by the coffee machine every morning.

#ashleyfilm #joel miller plus size reader #joel tlou #pedro pascal fanfiction #seeing clearly #joel miller x you #joel the last of us #the last of us #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal plus size reader

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skzhocomments · 3 months ago

Text

The Pearls On Your Neck (Hyunjin // Lee Know x OC)- Part Two

Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.

Wattpad | AO3

Part One | Part Three (coming soon)

taglist: @ihrtlix

---

Part Two

chapter word count: 15.3k words

The loud sound of my cursed alarm woke me up from the deep slumber.

“Fucking hell.” I curse, rubbing my eyes off all the sleep.

I grab my phone as I’m laying back down on the bed, too lazy to get up from the soft, pink, silk sheets, and start sorting through all the notifications that popped up while I was asleep.

I see a few Whatsapp messages from the University’s group chat and I take a mental note to look at them later and check if there’s anything important, or if my brilliant classmates just spammed memes for no reason whatsoever, as they usually do.

Then I check my messages app to see what rant Cynthia had last night at 5 AM and quickly type a message to her, telling her to hurry the fuck up to my place, since we only have about 2 hours to help me get ready.

And then… I see another notification that catches my eye.

Pearls on Your Neck - 1 new message from Hyunjin❤️‍🔥

I am curious to see what he could possibly want so early in the morning, but before I tap on his message, my anxiety starts creeping in.

What if he cancelled our date?

What if he can’t come on Saturday?

My finger hangs a few millimetres above the notification, my heart racing in my chest pounding against my ribcage as if it wants to get out.

This is so stupid. I think and close my eyes, letting my finger fall on the screen.

Hyunjin❤️‍🔥:

Good morning, Pearl. :)

I hope you slept well and rested.

Excited for our date?

Just wanted to check that we’re still on for today at 12:30 at Harrods. Initially, I thought about sending you a message on your mobile number you typed into your booking appointment directly, but we haven’t discussed that in our previous conversation.

Do let me know if you’re comfortable with me using your private number instead of reaching out to you through this app.

Looking forward to your message.

Thank you, Hyunjin.

Tsch. He’s so polite. I frown, feeling my heart beating faster and faster in my chest.

Deciding that enough is enough, I stop overthinking and simply start typing out a reply for him.

Pearl:

Mornin’

I slept well, thank you.

Yes, if it’s okay with you, we’re meeting as previously discussed.

We can meet in the Harrod’s Cafe on the Third Floor and grab a coffee first, since we’re meeting each other for the first time.

You can absolutely use the number I typed in when confirming my booking. Thanks for asking first, though.

See you there? :)

Sending the message, I re-read it about 2 times before a new reply from him comes, the sound the notification made startling me.

Hyunjin❤️‍🔥:

Great. See you there. :)

I can’t wait to meet you, Pearl.

Love, Hyunjin.

How does he message back so fast?

Is he not nervous?

“OMG, GIRL!” Cynthia squeaks with joy. “Love, Hyunjin?! That’s code red!!!

“Code red? What is that supposed to mean?” I chuckle.

Cynthia was right, though. I start thinking about something that didn’t bother me initially before Cynthia brought it up.

It’s a bit weird.

Why did he type that all of a sudden?

What happened to “Thank you, Hyunjin”?

I analyse it over and over in my head and try to come up with a logical explanation, but Cynthia is quick to intervene and stop my train of thoughts.

“It means he’s whipped for you already!”

“Cynth,” I start, watching how the dress she helped me pick fits me. It’s a pale green off the shoulder ruffled dress that is flowy at the bottom and elasticated around the waist, the sleeves come down just below my elbow and are puffy, it looks really cute and would definitely work for a walk in the Shopping Center, but somehow I’m not satisfied with how frumpy it makes me look, so I quickly take it off over my head and try to speak through the fabric. “How can he be whipped for me when he doesn’t even know what I look like, or how I act? He doesn’t even know my personality!”

“Doesn’t he know what you look like, though? Didn’t you use a profile picture on the app?”

“No, I didn’t. It’s supposed to be a secret that I’m on there, you forgot? It’s better to just keep my identity private.” I say standing there in my lingerie exposed while waiting for my next dress to be handed to me.

“Yea, you’re right. You still used your real name, though, idiot. Hey, why don’t you try this other one? Seems kinda fitting.” Cynthia asks while handing me another dress from my closet. A rosso corsa red one, this time, not too elegant, but not too gauche either. It has a small split on the left leg and cute little red buttons going from under the breast cups down, right through the middle. It has a Queen Anne neckline where the fabric is scrunched giving the bust a bow effect. The neckline is connected to full-length puffy sleeves that cuff tighter around the wrist leaving no room for bracelets, but it also gives off an illusion of a square neckline. I loved this dress ever since I got it, mostly thanks to the beautiful Queen Anne neckline, but I never got to wear it.

She also hands me some heels to match and a handbag, the heels are sliver and sparkly with a glossy finish. The stiletto of the heel has a gold metal vine wrapped around it and flowers stuck to the base where the heel meets the shoe, it has little gems in the middle of each flower, and the back of the heel has a few metal leafs on it as well. The handbag is simple and white to match the flowers with a silver chain for a strap.

“Seems fitting how?” I question Cynthia back. It is a cute dress, but why would she say that?

“Obviously because Hyunjin loves red!”

“And how would you know that?” I raise an eyebrow at her before taking another look in the mirror. The dress does look amazing on me.

“His red heart emoji, of course! And the fire??? Hellloooo! Pay attention, Pearl!”

“Tsch, that doesn’t have to mean anything, Cynth! It’s just an emoji!”

“Two of them! Come on, it’s the perfect choice for the weather outside, and judging by the material, it must be comfortable as well! You’ll surely walk a lot buying clothes today, so it’s just perfect.”

“Fine.” I sigh. “I’ll keep it on. Will you do my make-up, please?” I sit down on the white chair in front of my vanity and watch Cynthia expectedly.

“Of course, I’m gonna make you the most beautiful girl this country has ever seen!” She exclaims, giggling just like a kid who found their most-wanted presents wrapped under the Christmas tree.

“I knew I could count on you.” I grin.

“By the way, how are you going to find each other? I mean, you do know what he looks like. Are you just going to approach him?”

“Oh, he has my phone number, so I guess he’ll just call me as soon as he gets there or something?”

“WAIT! HE HAS YOUR PHONE NUMBER?!” Cynthia suddenly screams, jolting up from her chair.

“Of course, he does, how else are we gonna go on a date?” I roll my eyes a bit.

“No, that’s not what I was getting to! You said he doesn’t know what you look like!”

“Uhm, yeah, he doesn’t.”

“Idiot, he has your phone number!” She facepalms. “He can check out your pic on Whatsapp, or see if your phone is linked to a Facebook account or something!”

“Nah, I doubt he’d go through all that trouble just for a random date he’s paid to attend.” I shrug.

But what if she’s right?

Nah. No way.

“I’m telling you, he definitely checked you out. That’s why he changed his sign off!”

“Cynthia, you’re exaggerating again. The sign off doesn’t mean anything, nor do the emojis, or whatever you’re on about. Stop rambling and get to work! I have to leave in 35 minutes!”

“No, no. You hear me out. When you start dating this guy for real, you must think back on this moment and tell me ‘Cynthia, you’ve been right the whole time, and I’ve been an idiot.’ Got it?” she grinned, showing her perfect, pearlescent white teeth.

“That’s not going to happen, dumbass. I’m just using him while I need him, and when my parents get over their dumb idea of marrying me off to Minho, I’m done with this fucking app. Got it?” I imitate her, and she drops it while she keeps on doing my make-up.

I wish to put a curse on Cynthia and her first offspring, I’m late because she wouldn’t let me leave in time because apparently being late is in fashion. She just couldn’t get it through her head that this is not a real date and that Hyunjin was, in fact, hired to be there. I hate being late. It always leads to gut-crushing anxiety, and sweat, lots of sweat. I swear if I didn’t put perfume in my bag I would have to keep Hyunjin at least 5 feet away at all times. Luckily I do have perfume, my favourite one Maison Francis Kurkdjian’s Rounge 540, it's very sweet but also classy and mature. I hate it when perfumes are sickeningly sweet, that’s why this one is perfect.

While I'm on my way I receive a call from an unknown number, fuck. I answer it quickly.

“Hello?” I say quickly because I'm in a rush.

“Hiya, it’s Hyunjin I’d just like to let you know I'm here sitting in the cafe.”

His voice is much softer and smoother than I expected, smooth and soft like letting rich chocolate melt in your mouth.

“Oh… Hyunjin, I'm really sorry I'm running a bit late, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Okay, I’ll see you soon then.”

He sounds so calm it's almost calming my nerves.

“Yes, erm see you soon”

I end it quickly, wanting the ground to swallow me; how much more awkward can I get?

I’m here, on the third floor standing just outside the cafe. I don’t know what to do, do I just walk in and walk up to him? No, I should message him. I go through my recent call list and click on his number and name him boyfriend💋 so it's not suspicious when he messages me.

Pearl:

Hi, Hyunjin, I’m here just standing outside the cafe.

Boyfriend💋:

Oh, I’m sitting by the window.

Two seconds I’ll come and walk you in.

Fuck this is happening.

It’s not even a real date but I'm so nervous.

I start playing with my phone case popping it on and off my phone for what feels like forever.

Until the cafe door opens and he walks out, he’s real, oh he’s definitely real and tall. He’s dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, well I did tell him to wear whatever he’s most comfortable in and it only makes sense since he’s not going to be in those clothes for the majority of our time here. I suddenly feel insecure—overdressed. So I pull my bag in front of me from where it was hanging by my side.

He’s absolutely stunning, it’s unnerving. His blonde hair is down in a middle part and styled straight. I’ve never seen a man who looks so good with long hair, it frames his face perfectly.

He smiled at me sweetly, eyes sparkling and a bouquet of flowers in his right hand adorned with silver rings and a loose chain hanging from his wrist. A huge bouquet of carnations, every shade of red possible. “Pearl, I'm so happy to finally meet you, You look breathtaking.”

My heart pounded at his words, I don't know what to say or act, “Thank you, I bet you say that to all your dates.” I said trying to make a joke out of this whole situation - because it is a joke that I'm doing all this just not to get married.

He didn’t say anything for a second and just looked me up and down, “I got these flowers for you.” he said, extending them towards me.

“Um.. thank you, Hyunjin, they are beautiful and they match my dress. How did you know?”

“I didn’t. Red is my favourite colour,” He says simply before walking closer to me and taking my hand, “shall we go inside?”

Damn Cynthia and her intuition.

I’m shocked at his bold gesture I was certainly not expecting, so I just nod shyly.

He leads me into the cafe and brings me to a small table by the window— probably the one he was sitting at earlier. I take my time to look around the cafe I’ve been in numerous times—I should feel in my element, however, I’m completely out of it and there's no time to get some liquid courage.

Hyunjin’s chuckle pulls me out of my thinking so I turn my head to look at him, only to see him already looking at me, “You don’t have to be nervous, Pearl.” He’s smiling at me so sincerely that I almost feel like an idiot for being nervous.

Fake it till you make it.

“Hyunjin… so” I clap my hands together, “basically, what I have planned for today is to just go over stuff, get you an outfit for the dinner and get to know each other so it’s more… more realistic, if you get me?”

Wow he’s really good at this, he’s looking at me like he’s genuinely interested in what I have to say.

“Okay, do you want to start now or would you like to get a coffee first?” Hyunjin says, as his fingers move to his face, and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear.

“Let’s get a coffee first,” I say smiling.

“I’ll go get it for you, what would you like?”

I nod and smile at him, “Can I have a raspberry and pomegranate green tea?”

He smiles, “Good choice,” and walks off to the coffee counter.

I start thinking about what I’m going to tell him and how to start it, but the more I think about it, the more awkward it becomes in my head.

Should I tell him why I’m doing this?

Yeah that sounds like a good idea.

I make a mental checklist in my head about things to talk about, why, when, how, age, interests, family members and friends. Then after we've gone through all of that we can start shopping.

I put my head in my hands and realise that I sound like a drill Sergeant.

“Pearl, you okay?” Hyunjin chimes as he places my tea in front of me.

I sit up and try to look somewhat graceful in my chair, “Yeah, of course, I am. So… wanna get started to get to know each other?” I question and he just nods looking me in the eyes, “Okay so why I needed to do this is because my parents want me to get married to someone and I don't want to. That's basically it, so that's why you're here, to help me out of this mess.” I finish my sentence chuckling.

Hyunjin looks at me the whole time, gaze never drifting, and I smile at him to which he returns, “Is Pearl your real name?” he asks, lips puckering around the side of his cup, genuine curiosity swirling around in his eyes.

He was cute I’d definitely give him that, “Yes, my real name is Pearl, I’m 20 years old and in my second year of university.”

“What do you major in uni?”

I smile at his eagerness, “Woah, Hyunjiin, slow down! You haven’t told me anything about yourself.”

His eyes go wide at my statement and the tip of his ears go red, “Oh right,” he laughs, “Um, Hyunjin is my real name and I’m 23 years old,”

He didn’t seem upset about the statement, I'm grateful.

It's vague but I won't push about it.

Actually, I have to push about it if he’s going to be my fake boyfriend!

“Hyunjin, what do you like?” I question, putting my elbows on the table and resting my head in my hands looking at him.

Hyunjin shifts under my gaze, “I like loads of stuff, music, flowers, art, odd little shops you find in strange places,” I watch his eyes sparkle as he talks; he seems like a really passionate person, I like that.

Instead of talking about myself, I try to get to know him better, “What do you mean odd little shops?” I ask.

His eyes go wide, this time from what seems to be excitement, “Well actually,” he starts, bringing his hands together, “ shops that sell second-hand stuff or crystals, do you know what I mean? Just random miscellaneous stuff.” I nod, listening to the excited boy.

“Crystals?” I chuckle.

“Mhm. Each one of them means something different, and I find that really interesting.” He continues explaining.

“Really?” my eyes are the one to go wide this time. I’ve never met a boy who cares about stuff like this before. Cynthia used to tell me about crystals all the time, but she’s usually a nutcase, so I never really paid attention to her. Now, seeing how happy Hyunjin is to talk about random stones, I wish I had.

“Really. Those clear quartz diamonds on the back of your shoes? Which are very lovely, may I say.” he chuckles a bit. “They mean manifestation. What are you trying to manifest, beautiful?” He asks, interest sparking in his eyes.

The nickname makes my cheeks blush and I am sure they must be the colour of my dress by now. However, God blessed us humans with make-up. The layer of foundation should be able to cover my hopeless blushing.

“A marriage cancellation,” I reply, averting my gaze.

“I see.” He hums. “Is it set in stone?”

“Not yet. That’s what I need a boyfriend for.”

“Well, you got one, don’t you?” he smiles. I feel tension growing between us, as my heart skips yet another beat.

“Hyunjin?” I look into his brown eyes again.

“Yes?”

“You said… every gem and crystal has a meaning. What about Pearl?”

“Pearl?” he raises his eyebrows, the curve of his lips that are way too fascinating for me are still pointing upwards. “It means… purity, rarity… and beauty.” he glances straight at me, articulating every word with a roll of his tongue, and when he says the final word, his hand finds mine on the table, fingers gently grazing the skin on my knuckles, making my breath hitch in my throat and my skin getting goosebumps all over.

I’ve never in my life been more thankful to be wearing long sleeves than I am now.

Hyunjin slowly grabs my hand with the same refinement, as if I’m truly the rarest gem he’s ever touched, and continues drawing small, excruciatingly painful circles over my knuckles.

“You know…” he starts in a low voice, barely audible and hard to distinguish from the cafe’s chatter. “Pearl is the most elegant, and she shines brighter than any other gem I’ve ever seen.”

His eyes never leave mine, but my nervousness is growing so uncomfortable, I find that the straw in my drink is the most interesting thing to look at. I need to stare at anything else but his eyes, because my poor heart would forget that this is a fake date, and that he is a fake boyfriend.

“My beautiful gem, it’s your turn to tell me more about yourself now. Do you have any siblings?”

“Mhm, an older brother, or the thorn in my side, as I like to call him.” I reply, and Hyunjin lets out a low chuckle. I’m too aware of his hand still on top of mine, but I try to ignore the feeling growing in my chest and I continue talking. “His name is Seungmin and he’s actually dating my best friend, if you can believe that!”

“No way!” Hyunjin exclaims, seeming so interested in what I have to say, I can’t stop thinking about how professional he’s being. Again.

“Yeah, I really worried at first, but they’ve been dating for almost a year now, and they seem in love, so who am I to stop them?” I shrug.

“You can’t stop true love from happening, from being felt.” He squeezes my hand.

“I guess that’s true. That’s what I’m hoping for with my family and this whole… marriage ordeal. When they see me being in love with someone, I just hope they’ll have the same consideration for me as they had for Seungmin and Cynthia.”

“Cynthia? That’s your friend’s name? I see you’re only surrounded by people with interesting names. Moon Goddess… her parents were inspired.”

“You think so?” I smile.

“Mhm. Do you know her from Uni?”

“No, although she does go to the same University. We’re in different majors. I've known her since high school.”

“Were you in the same class?” He asks inquisitively.

“Unfortunately.,” I chuckle., “I used to not like her at all at that time, she had this big, jarring mouth. I rolled my eyes so bad when the chemistry teacher forced us to do a project together, God!” I laugh, and Hyunjin also seems to enjoy the story, as he shares my excitement and laughs with me. Sharing stories with him like this makes me feel more at ease, and it feels somewhat… natural. He has a calming, laidback aura about him, maybe he’s carrying some crystals on him now.

“So what happened next? How did you two become friends?” he asks, curiosity audible in his tone. as he leans in closer to the table.

“Well, we had this stupidly impossible project to work on, and none of us knew any chemistry-”

“And you also didn’t have any between yourselves.” Hyunjin interrupts me with a giggle.

“Exactly!” I laugh. “We were both convinced that we’re screwed, so I think we kinda bonded over our… stupidity?” I tilt my head a bit and Hyunjin squeezes my hand, reminding me that it’s there. It felt so normal to have his hand on mine, that I no longer noticed the way his thumb was drawing a pattern on the back of my hand. Feeling that squeeze brings me to reality and I flinch a bit, almost removing my hand from his grasp. However, he holds it firmly, not letting me move away.

“Sorry,” I mumble, startled by my sudden reaction.

“Don’t worry, Pearl.” he smiles sweetly. “I’m not going to let you leave anywhere. Not until you finish your story.”

“I… uhm…”

What the fuck, Pearl, get yourself together!I say to myself in my mind.

“I also hated chemistry.” Hyunjin brings up the topic again, as if to help me remember where I left off.

“Yeah… so… uhm… Cynthia and I were fighting all the time not knowing how the fuck- I’m sorry.” I put my hand over my mouth as soon as I realised that I let out a curse.

“Stop apologising, cutie, you can curse all you want. You’d still be the most elegant Pearl in the world to me.”

“God, stop flattering me so much…” I avert my gaze and clear my throat. “Anyway, we didn’t know how to get started on the project and were basically forced to spend time together. One thing led to another, and all of a sudden we realised we shared many interests and we became really good friends.”

“But wait, if you know her from high school, and you’ve been friends since, how did she and Seungmin start dating only a few months ago?” He inquires, and I get surprised that he not only remembered my brother’s name, but that he also remembered such a small detail—when he and Cynthia started dating—which means that Hyunjin is actively listening to what I say, and doesn’t just nod out of courtesy.

“That’s when they met.” I laugh, remembering how shocked both of them were to bump into each other in our house randomly at 3 AM while Cynthia and I had a sleepover. “It was basically love at first sight. Seungmin studied abroad for a few years so they never really knew about each other… until they basically crashed into each other in the hallway - Cynthia getting out of my room, and Seungmin wanting to come in to say hello as soon as his flight landed and he returned home.”

“That’s so funny!”

“And that’s not all! Cynthia and I were playing around doing a photoshoot. She was wearing this really sultry red lace lingerie and didn’t bother putting anything else on since she knew my parents weren’t home. The poor girl was horrified!”

“I can imagine. Breakfast the next day must’ve been really amusing to watch.” A smile plays on his lips.

“It was! God, they were so awkward.” I laugh reminiscing about the memory and shaking my head at how mortifying the whole situation was for everyone as I relive it.

“I wish I were there to see it.” He chuckles, probably imagining the whole scene.

“So Seungmin studied abroad, and you’re studying here? You didn’t tell me earlier what you are majoring in.”

“Business.”

“Beautiful and smart.” Hyunjin compliments me.

I shrug off the compliment and change the conversation, “What about you, Hyunjin? Do you have many friends?”

“I have a few,” he says while he looks up to think, “Since you’re studying Business, you must be going to the University of Thomas Aquinas, right? My roommate actually works at a Cafe near there, you might’ve seen him, if you enjoy drinking coffee in-between classes.”

“Really? What’s his name? What does he look like?” I ask, curious. The simple thought of possibly sharing an acquaintance with Aphrodite’s son lookalike seems purely impossible. There’s no way our universes would’ve ever collided if it weren’t for this Pearls on Your Neck app.

“His name is Felix. He works at this really funky-looking cafe right next to your Uni as a barista. He’s an innocent blonde guy, younger than me by a few years. Rings any bells?”

“No freaking way!” I exclaim, my eyes going big. “Felix is your roommate?!”

“You know him?” he gasps, as shocked as me. “Really?! That’s so funny! Wow!”

“I know, right?! But Hyunjin, you know what this means?! We just found ourselves the perfect excuse! We met at the Cafe and fell in love at first sight!” I declare with resolve, but Hyunjin only tugs his lips into a smile, not commenting further on what I’ve said.

I reach out for my drink again, realising that my tea has gone cold - from all the talking - when it reaches my mouth, I can’t help but wince at the displeasing feeling of the cold liquid travelling down my throat. It was really good tea, not too strong or weak like piss that you get in other cafes, and I’m deeply dissatisfied that I don’t get to enjoy it warm.

Hyunjin leans forwards on the table, placing his iced Americano down, and raising an eyebrow at me, “Cold?”

I keep forgetting this is a fake date.

Hyunjin is really good at this and extremely accommodating, he does little things to help me calm down when my brain goes into overdrive and even reminds me when I lose track of my conversation - just proving even more that he is a professional at this. I have to keep reminding myself that it's fake or I’m scared I’ll go crazy with delusion.

We’ve not even spent the whole day together yet, but I feel content but nervous, exactly how someone should feel on a first date.

Thinking about it now, Hyunjin always skips over the ‘fake’ dating details. He’s very good at acting and if he didn’t want to be here, he is very good at hiding it—I also keep forgetting that this is his job. I want to ask about his job and how he got into this line of work or if he’s ever had any crazy clients, but considering how he’s acted the last two times, I decide it's best not to - maybe it’s a rule. Maybe I can ask him another time; either way, I’m curious about him in a way that I’ve never been curious about a person before.

Hyunjin is undoubtedly cute, extremely attractive, and he’s fun in a quirky way, almost reckless. I mean, a man talking about crystals so fondly is unheard of and being in this line of business you have to be a little crazy, plus, he definitely has a way with words that can make any woman blush, but he’s also polite and seems gentle - he seems to have a gentle soul.

Considering I avoid relationships like the plague I'm actually enjoying this—enjoying talking to a new person.

Maybe I just need to go out more.

I’m glad that I’m doing this though because it’s new and apparently I enjoy talking to other people than Cynthia. Even if this is fake to get me out of a potential engagement, I’m enjoying it…

I realise I’ve spaced out, so I clear my throat, “Hmm? Oh… yeah it’s a bit cold.” I confirm his suspicions.

He nods, “Do you want another? I’d like to get to know you more before we play build a perfect boyfriend with me.” he jests.

I laugh at his joke, finding his strange way to make a joke actually quite hilarious, “No, I’m okay. But don’t you think you’ll look good dressed up all dapper?” I question him tilting my head slightly, I know he’ll look good dressed up all smart when he looks this good dressed in casual clothing.

He hums and puts his hand under his chin scrunching his forehead as if he was thinking, “I think I’ll look good if you pick it out for me, I guess.”

I nod agreeing because I do in fact have a great eye for men's fashion after growing up with Seungmin who would pair vertically striped trousers and horizontally striped shirts together, “I guess you're right, I do have a good eye for fashion.”

“Oh really?” he questions “What do you think of my attire right now?”

I have to think for a second, he looks amazing, but I can’t say that for obvious reasons, “It’s good… perfect for shopping”

He sighs as if he’s relieved, “Thank god for that, can I be honest with you?” He questions as if he’s scared to reveal his honest thoughts.

I don’t know why he’s asking that, of course, he can be honest with me. I want him to be honest with me, I want to know more about him and how he thinks, he seems different from most men I’ve met… I want to know what he’s thinking and how his mind works.

Why is he even asking that?

I nod eagerly, “Of course!” that came out a bit too eager.

A slight blush rises to my cheeks, if he noticed it he didn’t tease into it or make any comments, like other men I know would do.

He smiles at me genuinely and I notice how his eyes crinkle at the corners, it's cute, “Well, I was a bit worried I was underdressed when I saw you.” He looks down at his jeans as if he’s actually embarrassed about it.

At this moment I realise, his mind is just as complex as mine, I thought I was overdressed, “No, not at all.” I console him and reach out to pat his hand, that's when I notice it hasn’t left mine the whole time.

It’s strange. I never thought I’d forget another hand sat idly in mine, I never thought it would feel so normal. I always thought it would feel anomalous.

I want to take my hand away from his but I don’t want to leave its warmth.

Yeah, that's it.

I just don't want to be cold.

As if he’s observed my weird stare at our hands he speaks again pulling my view away from his hand in mine, “Do you have any hobbies?”

I think hard looking up, I can’t remember the last time I did something that could be classed as a hobby.

I mean one time Cynthia decided we were going to be chefs and nearly burnt down the house… but that only happened once because we were banned from using the kitchen after that, I think harder trying to recall something of significance.

Bingo!

“I used to go on fishing trips with my dad and brother once a month, I really enjoyed it! We even used to go on fishing holidays. We went to Gillhams fishing resort a few times in Thailand, I’ve never seen fish so big! Oh and how could I forget I once caught a 250-pound Mekong catfish, it took me about three hours to reel it in, and it was so hot I was sweating so bad not to mention the sunburn I had after being in the direct sunlight for that long-” I cut myself off by pulling my hand away from his abruptly and slapping it over my mouth, Hyunjin’s expression goes shocked for a split second but he quickly regains his smile, I’m completely embarrassed from my rambling, I coughed a bit trying to regain my dignity from massively oversharing, “I’m so sorry for rambling”

I’m a bit upset that my hand is so cold and I regret pulling it away in my state of fluster, but I can still feel his hand as if it’s imprinted itself into mine.

So, instead of reaching my hand back out to his, I place my other hand in mine hoping to regain the warmth but to no avail because both of my hands are cold.

I can’t reach out to his hand because that would not be appropriate for me to do so, as we haven’t established boundaries and I barely know the man. I’ll just let him take the lead. I would hate to make him uncomfortable, especially while he’s working.

Although it would be something we should probably discuss.

It would make life a lot easier, but it doesn’t matter at the moment anyway because even if we did set boundaries I wouldn’t have the balls to reach out to him anyway, I shouldn’t even be wanting to hold his hand.

He looks at me bemused, “Don’t apologise, I was enjoying your story,” his lips turn into a little pout, “Please continue, you know… I’ve always wanted a fishing buddy… maybe we can go on a fishing date after the dinner?!” He says eyes full of hope.

Fishing buddy?

Another date, is this some sort of would you like to book in for a lash infill tactic?

Of course, realistically I’d love to go on a fishing date with Hyunjin, I’d love to get to know him more but this isn’t real and I find I’m having to remind myself of this again.

I decide not to think about it too much and change the subject, “Yeah… you said you like art?” I question even though I distinctly remember him saying it, “I’d really love to get into it but I wouldn’t know where to start or how to start,” I let out a deflated chuckle.

His eyes sparkle and his lips pull into a very big grin seemingly pleased that I’ve remembered this small detail about him, “You remembered that?” He questions and I want to say why wouldn’t I?

It makes me think again, how do all his other fake dates treat him? Do they just talk about themselves the whole time? The thought makes me a bit angry because it seems to me that everyone should want to get to know Hyunjin but also, don’t conversations work both ways? Isn’t that how it works, one person asks a question and the other answers vice versa?

“Of course, I remembered we only spoke about it,” I look at my phone checking the time, “Wow, we only spoke about it two hours ago.” I try to deflect the amazed look on his face because it’s honestly not that impressive that I can remember a small detail about him, actually, I think I’ve memorised everything he’s told me about himself- because I need to. That's how fake relationships work.

Not that I know anything about fake relationships, but I'm pretty sure with Hyunjin’s amazing acting it will look undeniably real.

“Thank you, maybe I can help you get into painting… only if it’s something you genuinely want, don't just say it on my account.” This is a first, for Hyunjin to look so unsure of himself.

“Of course, I’d love that! I’m always up for new things.”

He smiles at me as if I’ve hung the moon and stars in the sky, “I’m actually very excited to get to know you, Pearl.”

I chuckle at his expression and statement, “Do you say that to all your dates?” I question and quickly realise by the way his facial expression drops for the slightest moment that I should have not said that.

I don’t want him to think I’m being rude and think that he’s cheap because he does this for a job, actually, that's the furthest thing I think of him. He’s my lifesaver at this point, and he’s quite literally going to save me from a loveless marriage and an eternity of misery.

“What are you on about? I’m on a date with you.” he resorts to quickly making me confused.

“Hyunjin… you know you can be real around me, I know this is a fake date and you're not actually my boyfriend,” I say factly.

“I don’t know what you're talking about. I'm your boyfriend and we are on a date,” He said and quickly stands up, “come on, we should go shopping now.” He says abruptly, leaving me behind a bit before stopping at the door and keeping it open for me while I’m still sitting confused by what has just happened.

Did I just offend him and his work?

Shit, that’s the last thing I wanted to do.

I walk up to him as he smiles at me sweetly.

“Hyunjin… I didn’t mean to offend you… actually, that’s the last thing I want to do since you're saving my life by doing this for me-” Apparently my apology isn’t acknowledged because he cut me off.

“Where should we look first?”

“Uhm… I think the man’s section is on the First Floor, if I remember correctly…” I reply quietly, looking down at my shoes and rubbing my hands together, fidgeting my fingers nervously.

Did I upset him that much?

I must’ve said something wrong…

“Pretty, is everything okay?” He asks with a frown and grabs my hands with his, as if our conversation earlier never happened. He separates my hands and continues holding my left one tightly, starting to walk towards the large escalators. “I don’t like seeing you upset, my beautiful Pearl.”

I want to say something.

But don't know how to reply, “Uhm… ”

“You know what I think will make you feel better?” he smiles, and abruptly changes directions. Instead of going downstairs, he drags me towards a photobooth and effortlessly lifts up the black curtain, pulling me inside.

The space is narrow, I worry that being so close to him will make him uncomfortable, but he doesn’t seem to care that much. He’s skilfully pushing the right buttons on the machine to get it to work - 2 sets of 8 pictures each - and that reminds me once again that despite it being the first time I’ve ever been in a photobooth, let alone with a guy, he most definitely comes to this kind of place with all his dates to take pictures.

Why do I have a strange pang in my chest when I think about this? I wonder, but quickly shake the thought off as Hyunjin positions himself right next to me. Legs and arms pressed against each other.

It’s okay Pearl, don’t overthink this…This is a fake date.

A first flash is seen and I can’t help but think about how awkward we must be looking right now, simply sat next to each other facing the screen in front of us, not even holding hands anymore.

Is this supposed to be fun?

Just as this thought crosses my mind, Hyunjin puts a hand around my waist, fingers delicately sitting above my pelvis and he spins me around to face him. His right-hand finds its way to my left one, which he raises in the air, mere centimetres in front of his lips, and the next thing I see is the blinding flash while I feel his lips softly press against my knuckles.

I let out a gasp as he smirks.

“What is it, my Pearl, are you flustered?” he raises an eyebrow and stands straight although his neck is a bit bent due to his sheer height so he crouches slightly, his left hand still on the back of my waist, hugging my frame tightly so we are flush against each other.

“I- what?” I stumble on my words and tilt my head with confusion.

What just happened?

Another 2-3 pictures are being taken while I’m trying to figure out what the hell just went on and how I can forget the feeling of his soft, perfect unchapped lips on my skin.

I’m crazy.

Then, just as abrupt as earlier, Hyunjin pulls my body closer to him and whispers slowly in my ear: “This dress looks so beautiful on you.” before pecking me on the cheek.

My eyes go wide at his bold gesture and my face has turned pink, and that’s when I notice that all 8 pictures have finally been taken. The air inside the photobooth feels way too stuff, because Hyunjin’s gesture turned my stomach upside down, and my heart is racing at 200km/h.

He takes out the two sets of pictures and looks at them with a bright smile on his face, then takes out his wallet from his back pocket and places one of the sets inside, before handing me mine.

“We look so cute together.” he grins childishly, giving me a second to look at the work of art we’ve just taken.

I’ll give it to him though because fuck, we look so good together.

No freaking way.

When my eyes find the last picture, I get flustered all over again, seeing that it perfectly captured the moment of Hyunjin kissing my cheek.

Hyunjin smiles at me triumphantly, “Do you feel better?”

I’ve come to the conclusion that all my overthinking about boundaries earlier was pointless, and to think I was getting worked up over holding his hand. But, my suspicions about him being a little crazy are definitely confirmed.

“Hyunjin… this was a good idea, I can put this in the back of my phone case, you’re so smart!” I say, evaluating and analysing why he has just done that and I feel completely stupid, obviously, it was so we look more legit.

He looks at me wearing a complacent smile, “It was a good idea, right? Everyone loves a photo booth!”

Although he doesn’t want to talk about it right now, he knows we’re on a fake date but he’s also making ‘memories’ for us to show my family, why didn’t I think of this? I didn’t even think of taking photos. He may be one of the smartest people I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.

I carefully take off my clear phone case and slide the photos in between the small gap.

I do actually feel a lot lighter and it’s Hyunjin’s doing that has caused it, “Shall we go get you some clothes then?” I offer, sporting a beaming smile.

“Okay let’s go!” He says excitedly and puts his hand out for me to grab.

We walk around and I finally spot a blazer in a very dark teal blue, and I drag him with me as quickly as I can in my heels, “Woah Pearl, slow down, no one is going to take whatever you’re on a mission to get.” He says behind me nearly tripping up.

I get the blazer and hold it up to him, it looks good with his complexion, “Hyunjin, will you try this on?”

He just simply nods and I go and hunt down the matching trousers.

When I find them I come across two more different suits that will look good so I take this opportunity to pick them up, guessing his size.

I knock on the changing room door and wait for a response.

“Pearl, is it you?” He asks, making me chuckle.

“Yeah, I got you some more bits to try on,”

I hear a few shuffles before the door opens and he peeks his head out, “Ah.. amazing go sit on the chair and I’ll come out and be your personal model.” He winks

I laugh at his remark and nod, handing him the clothes.

As I wait on the cream leather seat in the mirrored room, I find myself staring at the door that Hyunjin is behind.

Obviously, curiosity takes the best of me but I can’t carry through with it until he comes out, so I sit there staring at my hands and fiddling with the cuff of my dress.

“Close your eyes,” Hyunjin calls out, so I do to entertain him.

I hear footsteps getting closer, and Hyunjin calls out, “Pearl, you can open them now”

Hyunjin is finally standing in front of me in a dark teal blue blazer button-up with Burberry stitched into the breast. Featuring a collar style, front welt pockets, long sleeves, a front button fastening and long sleeves with matching trousers that look as if they were tailored to fit him, the plain white button-up shirt pairs perfectly.

His long legs are complemented profusely by the fit. The Blazer isn’t too tight either but just tight enough in all the right places, it feels rude to be looking without saying anything this long but I can't help it when he looks so good.

“Beautiful, does it look okay?” Hyunjin says with a teasing tone in his voice, and raised eyebrow.

“Hyunjin, you. It looks so good!” I exclaim.

“You think? Is this the one?” He says and a slight tinge of red comes to the top of his ears.

I think for a while - is this the one? It's clear that Hyunjin looks amazing in this, but is this right for him to meet my family in?

“There’s more, try them all on and then we’ll pick the best… well not the best… I mean, you're going to look amazing in all of them” I stammer.

“I’m glad you like it,” he looks down at his shoes, “maybe it would look better with different shoes,”

“Yes! Oh my god! Wait there, let me go and get some shoes. What size?”

He laughs at my excitement, “size 10”

I nod then run to the shoes, I pick up a pair of black chunky leather loafers premium Italian calf leather and gold-plated hardware across the talus. Perfect for a statement.

The next pair are slightly heeled ankle boots with a pointed toe in black leather, with a gold buckle on the inside. They are sleek and look smart.

I walk with a stride back to the changing room, “Hyunjin! I found some shoes!”

“Pop them by the door please, I'm trying on another one,”

I do as I'm told, barely containing my excitement - it is truly hard to not get pumped up when someone is willing to wear anything given to them, especially when they look like a model.

I sit there a bit too eagerly, fidgeting crossing and uncrossing my legs.

It’s taking way too long, “Hyunjin?” I shout

“Yes love?”

I blush unintentionally at the sweet nickname, “Is everything okay in there?”

“Yes, I’m just admiring how good your fashion is.”

I giggle to myself, and my phone goes off so I check it.

Sister-in-law:

How’s it going?

Did you kiss yet?

God, Cynthia is going to be my ultimate demise if she keeps asking questions like that; doesn’t she know it's a fake date?

Pearl:

It’s good and no we haven’t kissed yet because it’s a fake date!

Sister-in-law:

Whatever

Is he as good looking in person?

Pearl:

Yes

Even better looking!

Sister-in-law:

Are you in love yet?

Pearl:

Fuck off

I'm putting my phone away now

Sister-in–law:

No!

Don’t be like that!

“Love?” Hyunjin said giving me a fright.

I clumsily shove my phone back into my bag and look up. Hyunjin looks really good in beige, especially with blonde hair.

The black roses in contrast with the beige are so beautiful, the blazer has a pocket on the breast, and he’s not wearing a button-up this time but instead a black t-shirt.

“Do you like it?” I ask keenly, walking up to him to help flatten the lapels, reaching forwards without hesitation, both of my hands on his hard chest lightly moving the lapels, I smile to myself; extremely happy with my work. He’s wearing the loafers, they give him extra height that isn’t necessarily needed since my arms are already at neck level reaching out for his chest.

I didn’t even realise he was looking at me until I looked up because he didn’t respond.

I didn’t realise we were that close.

We are really close.

He’s looking down at me with a look on his face that I can’t quite distinguish and his lips twitch slightly.

I become flustered looking into his eyes for too long so I move back quickly.

I just invaded his personal space without asking or warning him.

I clear my throat, “Sorry,” I say looking down at my feet, and stepping back.

“I really like this one” He lets out in a low voice, and tilts my head up with his large, and temperate hand bringing me back closer to give me a warm smile, “why’d you pick this one beautiful?”

I try to find the right words, but it seems they are stuck in my throat. I know why I picked this one, it’s because he said he likes flowers; I thought he’d like it because of that.

“Why so quiet love?” His honey-brown eyes are miraculous, they look like they're shining, sparkling under the bright changing room lights and his blonde hair with his tanned skin is stunning. All humans should be born like this. Who wouldn’t be speechless being within this proximity with someone so breathtaking?

“I picked it because you like flowers?” I say it as if it's more of a question.

Unsure.

But I know that’s why I picked it.

“You're right.” he smiles, “I do like flowers, do you know why?”

I shake my head coyly.

I don’t know, but I want to.

“Because I’m a fool for beautiful things.” His eyes still haven’t left mine and I feel my body getting hotter by the second, “maybe you can be one of the things I’m a fool for as well.” He says it like a statement.

So boldly.

So confident.

I want to change the subject, I don’t like being put on the spot like this. I don’t like not knowing how to reply.

“Hyunjin, go try on the last suit, please.”

I say please because I need him to go, because I don’t think I can handle being part of this conversation any longer.

All he does is nod and smile walking away and I’m left still standing there confused, if my heart beats any faster I’m going to have to go get a check-up.

This is not normal, my hands are clammy, my whole body is flush and I’m a bit breathless.

I think I’m getting sick.

I sit back down on the chair and wait a little longer for Hyunjin, I still feel like I barely know him and I don’t know what I want to know about him.

I know he does this for work but does he go to uni still? Does he have another job? Does he have any siblings or pets? He’s older than me so it could be a possibility we went to the same school, he could even know my brother. After all, they're the same age.

I can’t stop being curious about him.

“Pearl, I’m coming out. I think you’ll really like this one.” He practically sings.

Speechless.

This is what he’s going to wear, he has to.

Elegant and luxurious; this is the one.

Black pinstripe Saint Laurent tuxedo jacket, black wool perfectly tailored, it has leather peak lapels and padded shoulders that enhance the double-breasted front, and on the front breast pocket is a gold Saint Laurent symbol.

The trousers are plain black and a skinny inky belt adorns his hips, the low-cut shirt he’s wearing hangs just below his collarbones and for the first time drawing attention to the delicate gold necklace he has on. The slightly heeled boots he has on just pull the outfit together even more, giving a classic, timeless look.

He should really consider being a model.

“Yes!” I squeal, clapping my hands together, “Hyunjin! This is the one!”

He chuckles at me, and puts his hand out to grab mine pulling me from my seat, “Shall we get this one then?”

“Yes! Let’s get them all, Hyunjin!”

He sighs slightly, “Why don’t you come up with a nickname for me?” he asks in a disappointed tone and his ever-so-swollen lips slightly pout?

“Huh?” I ask confused by the sudden question.

“Well, I am your boyfriend right?” He says in a matter of fact tone.

Fake boyfriend I want to say, but he is right, ‘couples’ should have nicknames for each other and he’s always giving me ones.

“What should I call you then?” I ask, slightly tilting my head.

His face lights up, “Anything you want,” he shrugs.

I think for a while going through the possibilities, I'm not bold enough to use honey bee, babe or baby.

It wouldn’t sound right for me to say that.

“Hyunnie or Jinnie?” I question, not completely sure on either.

His eyes widen and I start to think he doesn't like them, “I love it, I love them both!” He says as he engulfs me in a hug.

“Jinnie, careful, I nearly got makeup on your suit and we haven’t even bought it yet!” I laugh and place my hands on his chest, pushing him away from me playfully.

“You’re right,” he chuckles, “that would truly be unfortunate. But you know what, beautiful?” he asks, his hands still on the back of my waist, holding my body close to him. He leans down, face mere centimetres from my face, and whispers “I’m sure we can find a dry cleaner to get it ready until the dinner with your parents.”

“Jinnie!” I scold him, both of us starting laughing. Looking up at him, I love the way his blonde hair contrasts the black elegant suit. However, I unintentionally frown, remembering the most important detail I forgot until Hyunjin mentioned the Saturday dinner.

“What’s wrong?” he asks with a head tilt, seemingly concerned about my sudden change of expression.

“What are we going to do about this?” I ask, removing a stray strand of hair that found its way on Hyunjin’s forehead.

“What, the hair?” He removes his hands from my waist and brushes them through his haircut, restyling it.

“My father is a bit… conservative, so to say. He doesn’t really like crazy colours.”

“Oh, is that so?” he smiles.

“Mhm. Whatever. I’m sure it’ll be fine. It doesn’t matter.” I wave my hand around, trying not to overthink it too much.

“If you say so, beautiful.” Hyunjin grabs my hand before noticing the abandoned red carnations on the cream leather seat I sat on minutes earlier. He runs away quickly to grab them, then hands them to me, as he did a few hours ago when we first met.

“Thanks.” I smile. “I would’ve been really upset if I forgot these.”

Facepalm.

No way I just said that out loud.

“I mean-” I start, trying to correct myself, but Hyunjin doesn’t seem to care that much, as he raises a hand to stop me from speaking any further.

“Can you wait a bit while I change?” he asks. “I won’t be long.”

“Yes, of course.”

True to his word, Hyunjin takes only a few minutes to change, and I decide against going back to the chair. The heels I’m wearing are thankfully not as uncomfortable as they look, so I don’t mind waiting for him in front of the dressing room.

“All done.” he opens up the curtain, holding the three suits I’ve chosen for him neatly folded on his arm.

“Shall we go pay, then?” I smile brightly, truly proud of myself. The suits look just too good on Hyunjin not to get all of them.

We both head to the checkout and the lady behind the register compliments our choice of clothes, her eyes never leaving Hyunjin. I can’t blame her, though. Every time I look at him I feel like I’m having a cultural reset. His beauty is ethereal.

After we leave the store, I get this weird… sinking feeling in my stomach, as I realise that our date is almost over. We’re going to walk our separate ways now, and see each other in two days, which isn’t a lot, so why does it feel like it’s so far away?

“So…” I start, dejected. “I’m glad we got to know each other better, Jinnie. I guess it’s time we-”

“Go shop for your clothes.” Hyunjin smiles mischievously.

“Sorry?”

“It’s your turn!” he grins. “Your turn to be my model.”

“Oh,” I reply, confused, “No, that’s okay, I wouldn’t want to take too much of your time… I have a lot of clothes at home.”

“No fair!” he whines like a little kid, which makes me giggle a bit. “You got to dress me up, why don’t I have the same liberty?”

“Hyunjin, we’ve already spent many hours together. Aren’t you booked for another date later?” I reply with reason, noticing a slight frown between his eyebrows.

“What do you mean, Pearl? What other date? You’ve been mentioning that for quite some time now. I’m on a date with you, and I don’t want to go home just yet. I want to spend more time with my girlfriend. Why can’t we go shopping for you as well, hm?”

His answer takes me by surprise. He said everything in an almost arguing tone, truly seeming upset about this whole ordeal. My stupid mouth mentioned the fake date as well, again, and this really seems to anger him.

“I mean, we can, but… are you sure you aren’t busy?”

“I’ll never be busy for you, beautiful,” he says, making me blush.

However, I can’t stop wondering if I should’ve just pushed harder to go home. This is probably what he says to all dates, and hopes his fake girlfriend of the day will just let him go.

This is a job for him, after all. If I worked, I imagine I would think about going back home all the time.

Hyunjin and I head towards the escalator and take it to the Second Floor, where the woman’s section is located. He is the one who leads the way this time, as I’m shily looking down at the red carnations in my hand, their petals a bit withered by now. I furrow my brows thinking about them withering away, only a distant memory of this date remaining.

“You should press them when you get home. Do you like them that much? I would’ve bought you a bigger bouquet if I'd known.”

“Huh?” I raise my head, surprised once again that he noticed the source of my downheartedness so quickly, without me saying a word. No one in my life ever paid as much attention to me, not even my nanny, and it was her job. Well, this is Hyunjin’s job as well… but still, how observant can someone be?

“I’m not sure how to. I’ve never done it before.”

“Really?!” his eyes go wide. “Wow, okay, I’ll teach you. We should video-call later and I’ll show you.”

“Okay.” I chuckle, the knot in my stomach feeling tighter than ever. It’s not like he’d actually video-call me. Once the date is over, and until Saturday, we’re no longer bound by a contract, or by me paying him, so he wouldn’t have any reason to waste his free time chatting with a random stranger who hired him to be her arm candy.

Hyunjin takes me to a large elegant store on the Second Floor, and I quickly notice I haven’t been in it before. I only come to Harrods when Cynthia is in the mood to buy some new clothes, but I rarely, if ever, buy anything myself. I normally have people taking my measurements and bringing me catalogues where I pick what I like, and that’s it. No struggles going to the dressing room and trying 100 different things on.

Although not gonna lie, it was very fun to do it with Hyunjin earlier.

He goes directly to a shelf on the right side and picks an extremely elegant and beautiful pearl white satin dress that is scrunched around the waist with a one-shoulder neckline that would fall on my left side. There is a deep split on the right leg, and it has a short train.

As if he knows exactly what he’s looking for, he skillfully moves around the store until he finds his next target: a beautiful two-piece beige below-the-knee-length dress. The top is a tight-fit diamond shape with a halter neckline, and the skirt once again has a split but this slit is high and looks as if it would reach just at the top of my thigh, this time on the left leg.

Does Hyunjin have a thing for splits? I wonder, laughing in my head while he rummages the store for a third dress.

“Are you going to pick one for each look I’ve chosen for you?” I ask curiously.

“Of course, how else are we going to match on our next dates?” he grins while browsing through a row of black dresses.

“Aha! There it is!” he says, pulling out one beautiful raven-black satin dress that looks like it shines under the shop lights with a V-neck that plunges deep and spaghetti straps. This dress seems to be long, cutting off just at the ankles, and looks so elegant, I can’t wait to try it on. “Exactly what I was looking for!”

“Really?” I chuckle at his excitement.

“Beautiful, let’s see how these fit you.” Hyunjin grins, balancing the three dresses on one arm and grabbing the back of my waist with the other.

We head towards the dressing room and I step inside, letting Hyunjin arrange the dresses nicely on the hanger.

“The white one first. I’m gonna quickly run and get some accessories, so don’t hurry,” he says, grabbing the big dark brown curtain and arranging it so no one could see anything from outside.

“Got it,” I say, starting to undress, “Wait, Hyunjin?” I shout, hoping that he didn’t leave just yet, because I had a big problem.

“Yes, love?” he peeks his head through the curtain.

This fucking nickname.

“Uhm… do you think you could…” I grimace a bit, parting my hair to the side and turning my back towards Hyunjin.

“Oh.” he looks aside for a short second and I almost notice a red tint on his cheeks. “Sure.”

Damn, Cynthia for picking out this dress with the long-ass zipper!

Hyunjin comes so close to me, I feel his breath on my neck, and as he places one hand firmly on my shoulder, I can feel his thumb grazing the skin on my nape.

Suddenly, the air feels too hot and stuffy, and I barely breathe.

He pulls the zipper down and stops just above my behind, and I feel vulnerable with my whole back exposed. It’s the first time a man has ever seen so much of my skin, and I am feeling really conscious.

What if there’s a pimple on my back?

What if my position is weird?

Can he see my weird birthmark?

Does he think it’s ugly?

Instead of letting all these insecurities show, I just let my head down and mumble a quick “Thank you,” Hyunjin isn’t pushing it, and leaves me alone in the dressing room as soon as he’s done, with a small nod of his head.

At least we both seem embarrassed.

Now that the zipper issue is solved, I am able to undress with ease. I grab the white dress as instructed and pull it over my head, and as soon as it falls on my shoulders and settles on me, I can’t help but think Damn.

It looks amazing. The satin is hugging my waist beautifully, and the colour compliments my skin tone so well. I can’t believe Hyunjin was able to guess my size on the first try, and find this masterpiece of a dress.

“Love? Can I open this?” I hear his voice from the other side of the curtain and see the pattern of a hand gripping it up.

“Yes, I’m all dressed,” I reply.

“Wow.” his eyes go wide as he looks at me.

“Is it that bad?” I chuckle jokingly, as it’s quite obvious I’m looking like Aphrodite herself right now.

“Fuck” he mumbles, placing his fist over his mouth. “You look heavenly.”

“Thanks.” I smile. “What do you have over there?” I point to the small shopping bag in his hand.

“Oh. Right. I got you these.” he says as he pulls out a pair of blue satin gloves that look elbow-length, the same colour as his suit. He follows with a pair of navy blue high heels with an intricate silver flower design all over them, more focused on the heel. The third item he’s brought me is a small pearl white clutch with a golden chain to hold.

“Wow, Jinnie, these work so well together!” I praise him, and I almost get an urge to pet his hair, which I barely contain.

“That’s not all. Look, a pair of earrings for you…” He opens up a small box where sapphire and diamond dangly earrings beautifully sparkle under the strong light of the dressing room. “... and these.” He opens up another box, revealing two silver couple rings, a small blue sapphire at the centre of both of them.

“Oh, God. These are so beautiful…” I pull out one ring and place it carefully on my finger. It’s the perfect fit.

Was he able to size up my hands while playing with my fingers earlier?

“I’m glad you like them.”

“We definitely have to get all of these.” I smile, impressed by Hyunjin’s refined style.

“The two-piece is next. Be right back,” he says after helping me place everything in the big shopping bag provided by the store.

I again do as instructed and put on the two-piece dress. The diamond-shaped top exposes my shoulders and back modestly, I love the way the fabric of the beige skirt hugs my hips, and then falls down freely on my legs. This time as well, the split is not too high up on the side of my leg to make me uncomfortable, on the contrary, it's on the front, and I find myself once again admiring Hyunjin’s fashion style. He perfectly combined beauty with comfort.

Hyunjin returns once more really quickly and takes a few moments to admire the fit.

“So beautiful.” he smiles, and gives me a pair of black chunky, platform high-heel shoes with a thin strap on the ankle and a small golden buckle much like his chunky loafers, a black trapeze bag held by a large gold bulky, thick chain, a pair of golden twisted hoop earrings and a set of dark beige Tiger’s Eye bracelets with golden chains.

He really does like rocks.

“I absolutely adore how all of these look,” I tell him excitedly, feeling just a bit dejected that he didn’t bring any more couple rings this time. “We’re keeping all of these as well!”

“That’s great.” he chuckles at my excitement. “Then try the black one on, please.”

The black satin dress is the one I’ve been looking forward to the most, as it’ll be the obvious choice to go with Hyunjin’s Saint Laurent black suit at my parents’ dinner.

Of course, Hyunjin’s amazing taste doesn’t disappoint this time either. The fabric hugs my body in all the right places and loosely flows at the bottom in contrast to the tightness around my bust waist and hips. The open neckline makes me wonder what type of jewellery he will pick to go on with this dress.

I find out quickly enough, as he returns breathless to the dressing room.

“Okay.” he smiles. “Try these on.”

He gives me a pair of black open-toe sandal heels, and I’m surprised to notice that they will go with his suit perfectly, being made by the same design. Instead of a regular heel, these shoes have the Yves Saint Laurent logo in golden letters cassander heel featuring an adjustable ankle strap. The black bag with the golden chain he gives me is Yves Saint Laurent as well, and it seems he truly wants us to be matching not only the clothes, but the brand as well.

He then gives me a thin gold bracelet with small diamonds all over, but the accessory I love the most is a golden necklace. Well, I don’t necessarily like it the most because it’s beautiful. It’s because Hyunjin picked two of them, making us once again match, which got my heart racing badly.

“These clothes… Jinnie, they’re amazing. You’re amazing. We will look so good together on Saturday!” I smile genuinely.

“Mhm. The clothes are okay, but they’re just that. Clothes. You’re the one who makes them beautiful, Pearl.” he replied, looking straight into my eyes through the large mirror in the dressing room.

How is someone supposed to reply to something like that? I don’t know how, so I change the subject, “I’m going to get changed then we can go pay for these.”

He just nods unenthusiastically, looking slightly dejected.

As I’m getting changed I can’t help but think about the look on Hyunjin’s face.

Yes, some girls who hire him may be lonely people who want a boyfriend, to be serenaded in love and affection. I, however, am not lonely—maybe a bit touched starved—and do not all need this affection he is throwing my way because it’s very confusing, especially when the person is so calm and handsome.

I do not need someone tainting my future life with delusions just because they are nice to me.

Shit.

My dress, the fucking zip.

“Hyunjin?” no reply.

I start to panic, “Jinnie?”

“Yes?”

“Urm… I need your help?” I say it almost as a whisper hoping he’ll hear it.

I watch as long fingers, adorned with beautiful rings delicately wrap around the curtain pulling it slightly ajar, barely able to see just a sliver of the side of him.

“Love, is it your dress again?” he says ever so softly,

I fidget, trying to find the words because this situation is extremely embarrassing. I wonder how many times he’s had to do this for other girls. Although, he did seem embarrassed as well. What happens if I’m the only girl who decided to wear a dress like this to go shopping in? I hope he doesn’t think I did this on purpose.

Why am I thinking so much… I wasn’t even supposed to be shopping.

“Yes, can you please zip it up please?”

“Of course.” He says and he steps into the changing room, his hands that were once on the curtain are now on my hip and the other is on the zip.

I pull my hair to the side to give him better access to the zip at the top, but I can’t help that this feels somewhat domestic.

Intimate.

I need to get my head out of the gutter, this is not intimate nor domestic, this is simply what needs to be done otherwise I’ll be stuck half-naked walking through the shop with no jacket to cover up the huge gaping hole at the back of my dress, which is not a good look.

I notice the warmth of his hand leave my hip but the imprint of his large hand is still there and I can still feel it.

I’m basically letting a stranger zip my dress up for me, I remind myself to get the stupid thoughts of intimacy out of my mind. This is absolutely insane.

“Done,” he says in a whisper and I shiver once again; this feels intimate.

“Sorry,” I mutter under my breath.

“It’s fine love, can’t be helped, right?” he tells me with a soft chuckle.

I just nod, picking up my bag, and it seems like my touch has summoned a phone call.

I turn to face him and smile awkwardly and he nods indicating to pick up the phone.

“Yes?”

“Pearl? Where have you been all day? Did you not see my messages?”

I let out a heavy sigh, “Seungmin, did Cynth not tell you I was out with my boyfriend today?”

“Your boyfriend who you ain’t told anyone about?”

“Yes. My boyfriend.”

“Where are you?”

“Harrods” I let out with a sigh.

Hyunjin looks at me, eyes swirling with curiosity. I just smile at him, trying to let him know that it's nothing worth being interested in.

“I’m sending a driver to pick you up now”

“No-”

“Pearl I don’t care what you say, I can’t believe you even kept this from me for so long!” He was quick to hang up before I could get another word in.

How frustrating!

I shot Hyunjin a look with apologetic eyes, “My brother's sending a driver here, I’ve got to go.”

Hyunjin looks a bit downhearted and his thick lips twitch downwards, something that you’ll only notice if you pay enough attention.

But I did pay attention, and I saw that.

He’s gone extremely unanimated apart from the slight crinkle of his nose, in contrast to before and my stomach clenches lightly seeing that cute pout on his lips, even if it was just for a second. But deep down I know he’s probably happy to have finished his day of work, and this is all part of his ‘fake boyfriend’ act, now I feel sad.

Hyunjin composes himself quickly standing straight and bringing one of his hands to brush through his golden locks, “Ah okay, well let me walk you out?” He says it as if it’s a question, as if I wouldn’t want him to.

“I’d like that.” I smile genuinely, all the excitement drained from now as I know this is over.

I bend down to pick up some of the bags in my other hand that isn’t occupied by a big bouquet of carnations, but before I can even reach out to it Hyunjin has already picked it up.

“My girlfriend shouldn’t be carrying heavy things”

I smile as I see he’s come back from his fake sad act, but now he’s back with the fake boyfriend act. It’s better at least, so I decide to play into it, just to humour him, “Oh, is that right?”

He smiles at me and grabs my hand lightly intertwining our fingers, “Of course, I wouldn’t want my lover to have callus hands, now would I?”

I laugh and unconsciously play with the rings on his hand while we’re walking to the exit, the sinking feeling in my stomach only grows the closer we get, and I can’t help but wish we were actually friends. I'd love to get to know the real him. Not the fake boyfriend version.

We stop outside and I see him looking down at our hands with a smile on his face, eyes almost sparking. That’s when I notice my fingers playing with his rings, I jerk my hand back and curse myself out internally, “Sorry” I say and avert my eyes to look at the busy streets, its nearing dark now and the sky is painted in a beautiful ombre of pinks and orange hues, a colossal flock of seagulls flying, making the whole scene playing out in front of me look like an intricate tapestry that has been done ever so carefully.

I’ve never looked at my city like this, I’ve never had the time to be out and just relax. I’ve never had time to look into the little things in life, but when Hyunjin is around I seem to be picking out, noticing, and magnifying everything. Maybe his presence does that, he seems to be a very complex, and closed-off person but also very good at observing others. When someone is complex it’s natural to have to look into details further.

I see the black Mercedes Benz S-class getting closer and closer, reminding me how this is ending and I will go back home.

It stops in front of us and I smile at Hyunjin, “It was really nice meeting you today…thank you for everything, the flowers, agreeing to do this and I’ll see you Saturday?”

His hand reaches out to me and wraps around my waist, “Of course, I’ll see you Saturday, let me put your bags in the boot.”

He is such a gentleman, after he’s done putting the bags into the car he grabs my hand and walks me to the door and presses a soft kiss on my cheek, then opening the door for me, letting me get in, a blushing mess as my driver had just seen that.

“I’ll see you Saturday, beautiful, message me when you get home.”

I nod and wave him off feeling a strange feeling, he doesn’t actually want a message when he gets home, he’s just putting on a show for the driver.

I sigh and look down at the beautiful carnations slightly withered.

Would Hyunjin call me like he said and show me how to press the flowers? I’m unsure…

Uncertainty is the plague of the mind and right now I'm more confused and uncertain than ever, no one and I mean no one has ever made me feel so unsure in my life.

Independence comes in many forms, or so I have just learnt.

Volunteering to carry my shopping bags up a staircase that is ludicrously way too big for any house; unfortunately, that house is my house. Wearing heels that are slightly uncomfortable the whole day and not asking someone to carry my shoes as I change into flats, because apparently I was too enchanted by an Adonis of a man with a svelte toned body. But now I'm back in the comfort of my own home, my feet are throbbing and my chest heaving from walking up those stupid stairs.

I flop down onto my bed and think about how my life has come to this, lying and scheming to prevent a loveless marriage.

“Pearl!” An excited screech can be heard through the door along with the clambering of feet slapping on the wooden floor. I glance in horror at my closed door and hope to God I’ve just imagined my friend’s voice shouting my name, for I am tired as fuck and frankly a bit disappointed about having to go home instead of spending more time with Hyunjin

“Cynthia?” I ask almost lifelessly, seeing my best friend’s figure slamming through the door. As always, Cynthia has no regard for my personal space, so she jumps right next to me in bed, making me close my eyes in slight frustration.

“What’s wrong, did you come home with blue balls?” She grins.

“What? No!” I playfully slap her arm and turn my back on her, signalling her to unzip my dress. I then get up and march over to my walk-in closet, taking off my dress and changing into more comfortable clothes.

“How was the date? Spill it out.” Her dumb grin doesn’t leave her face while she asks this. She’s lucky I love her.

“You mean fake date!” I whisper, aware of the still-open door. Cynthia rolls her eyes as I sit down in front of my vanity and start wiping off my makeup. “It was… nice, actually. He’s a really great guy, you know?”

“Who’s a great guy?” a voice behind me speaks, startling me: my brother’s.

Seungmin is standing in front of my room, his right shoulder supported by the door’s frame, and looks at me and Cynthia with a serious expression.

“My boyfriend, of course.” I roll my eyes.

“I’ll ask this again - the boyfriend you didn’t bother telling anyone about?” He raises an eyebrow.

“I just wanted to make sure we’re official before telling you and our parents. Besides, Cynthia knew about him.”

Seungmin raises his eyebrow again and eyes his girlfriend, who avoids his gaze like the plague.

You’re such a bad liar. I think while looking at her as well, hoping she won’t blow my cover.

“Anyways, now that I’m basically forced into a MARRIAGE,” I accentuate this last word, hoping to get a reaction out of Seungmin. “I have to force things to move faster than I would’ve liked, and to bring my boyfriend to the freaking dinner so our parents can observe him like he’s a poor caged animal in a zoo. Imagine that.”

“Pearl, I know you’re upset…”

“Upset? Upset doesn’t even scratch the surface of what I’m feeling, Min.”

“Look. As much as I think our parents are exaggerating, they come from a good place. Minho is a nice guy, as much as he can seem like an asshole.”

“Pfft. Right. Seem.” I scoff.

“I’m serious. He’s a good guy, he’s hella smart and if you marry him you will get to live a very good, stress-free life. That’s what our parents want for you.”

“But what about what I want, Min? Isn’t that important as well?”

“Of course it is. That’s the most important thing. But isn’t a good life something you’d want? Minho would give you that, and more.”

“What I want is to be with someone I love. Cynth, back me up!” I look at my friend who’s been staring at us ever since the conversation started, her body sprawled on the bed, head supported by her hands.

“I have to agree with Pearl on this one, baby. Minho is a good guy, and I bet they’d get along great-”

“Hey! Whose side are you on?” I cut her off angrily, my face all messed up with the smeared black mascara around my eyes.

“BUT it’s also important that she actually likes him before getting married, don’t you think?” She continues without minding me. “If she has a boyfriend she likes, wouldn’t it be more fair to stay with him instead of marrying someone she doesn’t like?”

Seungmin seems to consider a bit more what Cynthia said, and that annoys me to no end. Why does he regard her opinion on this matter more than mine - the person who would essentially have to suffer at Minho’s cruel hands?

“Remember, it’s me who’s getting paired up with someone on our parents’ will, not you. You were able to choose to be with someone you actually love. And I want to have the same choice. Is that really so absurd?” I try to reason with Seungmin, who simply nods.

“Okay. I’ll try and give this nameless guy a chance. But if I think Minho’s the better choice, I will 100% tell our parents that as well. Hopefully, you picked a good guy for yourself, Pearl.”

With that, he leaves and closes the door behind him.

“Fuck you Seungmin!” I shout, angrily standing up and grabbing a pillow from the bed, throwing it to the door.

“Hey, don’t be so nasty. He’s your brother.” Cynthia chuckles.

“He’s stupid. Arghhhh, why doesn’t he get me?!” I pout.

“He does, but he has this bad habit of thinking that what he believes is best. He does love you, you know? And he’s kinda right… Minho is perfect for you.” She shrugs and then suddenly straightens her back. “But enough about Seungmin and Minho! Back to what we were talking about! How was the date? Tell me everything.”

“Cynth, it was… really good.” I smile brightly, remembering Hyunjin’s fingers playing with mine and forgetting almost instantly about Cynthia’s dumb comment. Minho is perfect for you my ass.

“Someone’s in loveee~” she sings.

“No. No way.” I shake my head. “It was a fake date. But he’s such a gentleman! I’ve genuinely never met anyone like him before! And he paid so much attention to me. And you were right, he likes red. He even got me those red-”

I suddenly get interrupted by a loud sound coming from my phone.

“Oh, my God. Cynth. It’s him.” I look over at my friend, and her grin grows bigger than ever. She’s like the Cheshire Cat.

“Who, your not-so-fake boyfriend you’re totally in love with?”

“Shut up. What do I do?!”

“Answer, obviously!”

“But I’m so ugly! I look like a raccoon! Why the heck is he face-timing me?!”

Oh right. The flowers. I mentally slap myself in denial that he actually remembered and wanted to teach me how to press them.

“Just answer!” Cynthia urges me.

“No! I’ll… call him back later!”

“Pearl, if you don’t answer I will.”

Cynthia stands up and comes over to me, trying to grab the phone from my hands. We fight over it for a few seconds, before it stops ringing.

“Pfiu.” I exhale, relieved. “Okay. He hung up. I will just take my make-up off and call him back. Is that okay?” I look at Cynthia, hoping for encouragement.

“You pussy.” She rolls her eyes.

The phone starts ringing again, making me freeze in my place.

Why is he so insistent?!

“You better answer this time. I bet there won’t be a third.” She shrugs and leaves the room, giving me space to talk.

Shit, what if she’s right? It probably won’t be a third one if I avoid his call again.

I reluctantly press the green button on my screen and wait with my heart up my throat for a few seconds until the call connects.

“Hey!” Hyunjin smiles, as beautiful as ever.

“Hi,” I reply, glancing at how weird I look with half my make-up off, the other half smeared on my face awkwardly.

“Is this a bad time?”

“No… I was just removing my make-up, that’s why I look so…” I pause, trying to find the right words to describe my fucked up appearance.

“Cute?” He giggles.

“No. Unappealing.” I reply, feeling my cheeks grow red from his compliment.

Why can’t I get used to this?

“Oh, please, you could never look unappealing. But do take off your make-up. You should clean off your face to avoid any clogged pores. Do you have a cleanser or make-up remover at hand?”

“Yeah. Sure. I do.” I chuckle, a bit surprised that he cares about something like this. Most guys I’ve met don’t even know what water on their face feels like, I bet they’ve never heard of cleansers. “Should I call you back?”

“No, I’d much rather watch you take it off. Why don’t you put me in front of you and pretend you’re filming a vlog?” Hyunjin grins from ear to ear, as if he had the best idea in the world, and I play along.

I place the phone against the mirror and glance directly into the lens, starting to talk.

“Hello everyone, this is Pearl. Welcome to another episode of ‘Life with me’, today-”

“Wait, why don’t you call it something like ‘Life undersea’? It would be fun.” He laughs.

“Did you just mock my name, mister?” I raise an eyebrow playfully.

“I would never.” He says mouth agape with fake shock.

“Anyways- welcome to another episode of ‘Life Undersea’! Today we’re taking off my make-up! First things first, we’re going to use my favourite cleanser - Beauty of Joseon Radiance Cleansing Balm. Look how pretty it is.” I grab the white packaging and show it around to the camera, opening it up. “It has such a rich, buttery texture. I’m simply in love with it!”

“Wow, you’re a natural.” Hyunjin laughs.

“Thank you.” I smile and bow.

“You’re welcome, beautiful.”

“Uhm… so… you apply it like this…” I stumble on my words and curse myself a bit, once again way too aware of the effect his mere words have on me. I find myself chanting “He’s a fake boyfriend!” inside my head over and over again, as if it would somewhat help the redness in my cheeks.

“I love seeing you so flustered.” He smiles kindly, while I’m battling myself inside.

“Shut up.” I brush him off, continuing to take off my make-up. Instead of being upset, he just grins.

“Okay pretty, what’s next? You’re filming a vlog, remember?”

“Oh, right. I have to go wash my face now, but I can’t take you to the bathroom, unfortunately. You’re going to have to wait here.”

“I’m waiting.”

I rush to the bathroom and throw water on my face at least 10 times, then I grab a microfiber white towel and wipe it off gently.

When I return to my room, Hyunjin is still there, looking down at what seems to be a book.

“I’m back.” I sit down at the vanity and curse myself again, this time for other reasons. I think about how I shouldn’t have said anything, and just let him do his own thing while admiring him for a while, before he noticed I returned from the bathroom.

“You know what? You’re beautiful with make-up on, but your bare face is even more stunning. I’m going to fall in love with you at this rate.” He chuckles.

I shouldn’t have taken off my foundation. He’ll definitely see the blush on my cheeks.

“So, are you ready to learn how to press flowers?” He continues, leaving me no time to reply to his past compliment. My mind is however still on his words.

I’m going to fall in love with you at this rate.

Fuck. How can he say that so easily, when my heart is beating this fast?

“Yes, I’m ready. What do I need?”

“A few books and some newspaper would be ideal. Well, you don’t necessarily need the newspaper, but the petals might stain the pages, so if you don’t want to ruin a perfectly good book, I’d recommend getting one as well.”

“Okay. Uhm, I don’t mind ruining any books, though.”

Especially if the petals would stain it - that would be even more meaningful to me, having a permanent memento of our date inside the book, even if the flowers are gone.

I don’t say that, however.

“Okay Jinnie, I’m back with the books. Are these okay?” I show them unsure at the camera, worrying that they are too small or too big.

“They’re perfect, beautiful. Now, pick a book inside of which you’d like to press the flowers.”

I look at whatever books I’ve grabbed from my bookshelf, and pick a small Japanese book titled “Convenience store woman” as my subject. I find it kind of fitting, as I’m able to relate to the main character of the book. I, too, am a bit unconventional to my parents’ dismay, and the way I view the world around me seems to disturb everyone else to no end.

“Now, place the flowers neatly between the pages, like this.” Hyunjin shows me the way he placed one single red carnation flat on top of a page. “Then close the book as carefully as you can, so as to not disarrange the flowers.”

“I think this is right…” I say, after struggling for a good 2 minutes with closing the small book. I should’ve picked a bigger one.

“And all that’s left to do is weight it down. Just put all the other books on top of this one and wait for a few weeks, then you’re done.”

“That’s it?” I ask, surprised.

“That’s it.” He giggled.

“Wow, I can’t believe it was so easy? I’m a bit dumb in your eyes, probably.” I chuckle nervously.

“No, Pearl. It’s okay to not know things and to learn them from someone else.” He smiles kindly. What he said makes butterflies grow in my stomach. I’ve always been a perfectionist, preferring to do things alone and learn on my own. This is certainly new, and it’s not even the first thing he’s taught me. I also learnt that shopping can be fun. All of this in just one day feels a bit overwhelming.

“I guess so…”

“You’re so stubborn.” He chuckles again. “But that’s one thing I like about you.”

“Are you going to flirt with me the whole call?”

“Yes.” He replies with a serious face, and I take a moment to appreciate how beautiful his blonde hair suits him, strands falling gently along his cheekbones.

“Okay.” I smile. “Thank you for today. Really. I had a lot of fun, and it’s great to learn new things.”

“I’m glad. I also had fun.”

“What will you teach me next time?” I pry.

“Hmmm. I’ll think about it.” He looks directly at the camera, and I get butterflies once again.

“Should we go to sleep?” I ask reluctantly, not really wanting to end the call. However, it is pretty late, we stayed out way longer than I thought, and I am super tired. Also, Cynthia will most likely come to bug me about the date and ask for every detail of this call, so I should get a head start and prepare.

“Mhm. We should. See you Saturday?”

“Yes. I’ll text you the address.”

“Good night, beautiful.”

“Good night, Jinnie.” I smile and press the “End Call” button with a sigh.

I really wish that when I get a real boyfriend, he’d be at least half the way fake-boyfriend Hyunjin is.

---

(A/N) Long chapter, but we hope it was enjoyable!

Reference pictures for the outfits they've shopped for below

Thank you for reading!

Love,

Storm + Orgel

---

Part One | Part Three (coming soon)

31 notes · View notes

elliewithcellie · 3 months ago

Text

Long Cool Woman - Chapter 3

chapter summary: It's Day One of pageant practice, and someone has their eye on you.

wc: 4.2k

cw: awkward reader lmao, two brief implications of sex life, mention of a condom ha, i think that's it. Dean plays older brother, Jealous Sam? who knows

a/n: Find the rest of the story here

As the car rolled to a stop, you realized you had dozed off. It had been a long day. You all grabbed shopping bags and staggered through the hotel and into your room. The boys looked as exhausted as you felt, and it was only 9:30. You looked at the two beds with the desire to have one to yourself. You looked at the boys, sure they were thinking the same thing.

You sighed. You claimed a bed while the boys battled it out with rock-paper-scissors. Dean won, a smile joining his features. Sam’s eyes widened, the color draining from his face. They argued silently in front of you, their unspoken words still an enigma to you, a foreign language that held context clues at bay.

Sam’s face grew rosy as he walked toward your bed, his feet dragging in defeat. The closer he got, the more doubtful you were about the situation. Your mind told you that you were an adult and that you could handle sharing a bed with a man, but your body could not be convinced.

“You know what?” you said scrambling out of bed. “It’s ok, Sam. You can have it.”

You grabbed a pillow and pulled the comforter off the bed.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked.

“I’m gonna sleep in the bathtub. You both have a long day, so I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not intruding,” Sam said.

“It’s ok, really. I’d fit in here better than you guys would.” You forced a laugh. “Goodnight.”

You dragged the blanket into the bathroom and shut the door behind you.

“Sweet. Win-win,” you heard Dean say, his voice muffled by the door.

As far as bathtubs go, this was the nicest tub you’d seen. You laid the comforter down to form a padding, pleased with your quick thinking. But you felt stupid. The urge to fix it and act like an adult grew larger, the embarrassment rattling in your head like a pinball machine. But that ship had sailed. You had sealed your fate. You tossed and turned in the tub until your mind settled into sleep.

A muffled alarm through the bathroom door woke you from your pained slumber. As nice and spacious as the bathtub was, it was still a bathtub: cold and solid. No matter how padded, the comforter’s efforts remained in vain. You stretched your aching back, not quite finding the relief you sought.

You stepped out of the tub, careful not to slip. The mirror served as an unpleasant reminder of your lack of sleep. Dark bags hung under your eyes, and your hair shot in every direction. Your shorts had twisted halfway around your waist, and only one sock remained on your feet. You tried to groom yourself slightly before opening the door, hoping to signal an invitation to the others.

You had just finished brushing your teeth when Sam entered the bathroom. Juxtaposing his large frame, he shrank himself down, almost a mixture of shyness and guilt as he approached you.

You decided to beat him to the punch. “I’m sorry for ditching last night. We’re adults. It shouldn’t have been a big deal.”

“No, no,” Sam said, his eyes wide, frantic to reassure you. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I should be apologizing to you. I’m sorry we made you sleep in here.”

“You didn’t. It was my choice.”

“You wouldn’t have made the choice if we didn’t push you to. We should have gotten another room for you. We weren’t thinking,” he said, his posture straightening with his assertion.

He towered over you, closing some distance, but his demeanor remained soft and sincere. Heat radiated off of him, his warmth a welcome change from the cool porcelain of last night. Still, chills ran down your spine.

“I—I’m not here to make anyone uncomfortable. I’ve just –”

“You’re not.”

“—never done that kind of thing, but we’re all adults here. I can pull it together and act like one.”

“Done what?” Dean asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Been in bed with a guy,” you said, your quick confession taking you by surprise. You covered your eyes with your hand, a meager attempt at hiding your embarrassment.

Dean’s eyebrows raised in surprise as he squeezed between you and Sam to find his toothbrush. “Bobby didn’t let you out much, huh?”

“Dean,” Sam warned.

“Nothing in high school, though? Never ditched class for a boy?”

“What? No, not at all,” you said. “Some small little innocent crushes and school dances, but nothing serious. What are we talking about right now?”

“This is on us, ok?” Sam said, pulling your attention as he gathered your pillow and comforter from the tub. “We should have gotten you a separate room. I’ll go see if they have any others.”

“No, it’s fine. Really,” you said. “I’m fine with it if you guys are fine with it. I just can’t sleep in that bathtub again.”

“Deal,” Sam said, returning your things to the bed. “Taking the comforter, though, now that’s unforgivable.” A smirk rose on his face, watching for your reaction.

You chuckled and smiled back, and he resumed making the bed.

“Ok, out, Dean,” you shooed him. “I gotta get ready.”

“Wait, just two minutes.”

“Fine, but I really have to get going. Shoot. Is there a dress code for this? Sam, Where’s the itinerary?” You left the bathroom and rummaged through your duffle bag, the door closing swiftly behind you.

“Here,” Sam said holding the paper up. “It says, ‘Welcome to Day One. Meet the rest of the contestants for breakfast before we begin our first rehearsal. Come as you wish to present yourself (The judges do not score until Day Three).’ So, it sounds like you can wear whatever you want.”

“Thank god,” you exhaled.

Dean exited the bathroom, and you entered, closing the door behind you.

As you showered, your body teetered on the line of anxiety. You were an imposter. You knew that the other girls would practically smell it on you. Your looks and lack of experience could be enough to be caught in this lie. You wanted to back out altogether. But lives were at stake here. You had to remember that. Miss Vermont was found dead. You could not afford any more casualties. You exited the bathroom, Sam taking your place. You returned to your bag and practiced what you learned yesterday, in hopes of elevating your look just enough to blend in with the contestants.

Sam returned to the room as you finished up. “You gotta get going. Here, we’ll walk you out.”

You nodded and slipped on your shoes. The closer to the lobby the three of you got, the quicker your heart started racing.

“You’re going to be fine,” Sam said. “Just remember to keep your eye out for anything out of the ordinary. Try to get people talking and keep your phone handy just in case.”

“And use this when you have any free time,” Dean said as he handed you his EMF detector. “Any information is helpful.”

You all entered the lobby littered with beautiful women. Chatter and laughter bounced off the walls, all but singeing your skin in overwhelm.

“I’ll see you guys soon, right?” you asked.

“Like we never even left. Now, go make some friends. Ooh, especially with her,” Dean said pointing over at one of the contestants.

“Shut up,” you said. Still, you laughed.

“Hey,” Sam said, his eyes serious and concerned. “Be safe, ok?”

You nodded. “You, too.”

Without another word, the boys left the hotel and left you to truly fend for yourself.

******

Clink, clink, clink.

“Alright, ladies. Please take your seats in the chair with your state labeled accordingly.” You looked up to find an older woman on the stage, holding a glass in one hand and a fork in the other. She sounded too chipper for the time of morning, and her smile seemed sewn to her face by three cups of coffee. She struck you as presidential: matching tweed blazer and pencil skirt with a shirt the same shade and pointed shoes two sizes too small.

You found your seat and slumped down, hoping to avoid unwanted attention. Pastries lined the center of the table. You scanned the others. No one attempted to take one, so you didn’t either. You tried to focus on the speaker, but your stomach rumbled silently.

“Now that we are all settled, welcome and congratulations for making it to the Miss America pageant. I’m Nancy Roshambo, the event coordinator for the next three days. These are my fellow producers, Tod Larkins and James Mathesby.” Nancy gestured to her right revealing a frail, older man and a younger, fit, attractive man. You sucked in a breath at the sight of James. It may have been your first time meeting someone who took your breath away. Embarrassment struck you, desperate to avert your eyes from him.

Nancy continued. “While the stage crew sets up the stage for rehearsal this afternoon, we decided you all should get to know each other!” Small cheers from the crowd of women erupted in the room. They all seemed so excited as they turned to their peers and giggled. You only settled into your nerves, taking a deep breath through the commotion. The girls collected themselves as soon as Nancy resumed speaking.

“We have generated a few games for you ladies to play for the next few hours, so by the time we are ready to rehearse, you all will be each other’s best friends!”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. You were sure these girls were lovely, but Nancy was coming on a little strong. Still, the overall consensus remained positive. Nancy announced the first game, and everyone shuffled around accordingly. Through the transition, you grabbed one of the frosted donuts that sat perfectly at the center of the table. The rest of the table settled in around you. As you ate, you felt their eyes searing into your skin.

“That’s impressive,” one of the girls said.

“Am I not allowed to eat right now?” you asked, putting your donut back on the table.

“No, go on ahead,” she said. “It’s just so courageous for you to eat sweets just days before that show. I’m Tanya by the way.”

You cursed to yourself. By simply eating, these girls were on to you. You introduced yourself sheepishly.

To your surprise, Tanya shrugged and grabbed a donut of her own. Another girl couldn’t remove the disdain from her expression.

“What, Kari? I’ve been inspired,” Tanya said.

“Could someone tell me what we’re supposed to be doing?” you asked.

“We are supposed to be playing Two Truths and a Lie,” Miss California said, irritation evident in her tone.

“Wouldn’t it be easier if we got to know each other by, like, asking regular questions?” you asked.

“Yeah, these games are stupid!” Tanya said. “We don’t even know each other well enough to make a guess. You guys play your game. Me and Y/N, here, are going to actually get to know each other.”

The rest of the girls at the table commenced their game as Tanya shifted her chair toward you. “Alright. Are you going to share first, or should I?”

Because of your unique situation, you let her do the talking. The conversation went smoothly for hours. It was exciting to get to know someone your age so easily. The boys, as kind and hospitable as they grew to be, were reserved. There wasn’t much information to gather unless you dug for it, a risk you weren’t quite willing to endure yet. But Tanya was an open book. She discussed the experiences she had growing up in Georgia. But it wasn’t until she mentioned she was engaged that you found yourself holding onto every word she had to offer. You longed for the experience of a partner, even though you knew you could never have one. The normalcy of her life left you evaluating your own, how strange it became, and how much you’ve missed out on. Still, a girl could dream.

“Alright. Enough about me. What about you?”

Before you could begin, Nancy tapped her glass with her fork, a hush falling on the crowd.

“Alright, ladies. We’re going to take a little break while the crew finishes their last-minute details. Feel free to use the restroom to freshen up!”

“You’re off the hook this time, but you will tell me more about you later.” Tanya winked, and in a mad dash, headed for the restroom.

This was your opportunity to investigate, you quickly realized. You pulled out the EMF detector and scanned the perimeter of the room. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. You rounded a corner where a window was left slightly ajar. On the windowsill sat a small pile of yellow dirt or maybe sawdust. Before you could examine it, you felt someone approach you from behind.

“What are you doing?”

You turned around and found James Mathesby towering over you, his arms folded at his chest. You scrambled for something, anything that could cover your tracks. But experiencing him up close had you short-circuiting.

“I—I, uh, it’s stuffy in here, isn’t it? Can’t hardly breathe in here.” You fanned yourself as your temperature rose. In truth, you couldn’t breathe, but it wasn’t the air causing you to swoon.

“Oh shit. I mean, shit. Let me take you outside.” His hand found residence on your lower back as he ushered you through the lobby doors. His hand left a fire in its wake as the heat traveled through you. To say you were touch-starved would be a gross understatement. You let out a deep exhale in hopes of pulling yourself together.

“Is that better?” he asked.

“Yeah, it is. Thank you,” you said, allowing the breeze to ground yourself. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

He smiled and extended his hand. “I’m James.”

You shook his hand. Even the simple exchange of hands was enough to send you over the edge. The butterflies in your stomach twisted into knots. You were careful not to shake it for too long.

“So, what is it you do, here?”

“I’m in charge of run time. We have a tight schedule, and Nancy tends to go overboard with everything, so I keep her in check. I am also in charge of the videography of the event, telling which camera to cut to and when to pan to a wide angle or a close-up shot.”

“Oh, so you’re basically the director,” you said.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” James said, a slight rouge warming his cheeks.

You didn’t want the conversation to end. His big mysterious eyes pulled you into every word he said. You found yourself staring. You didn’t mean to. It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen a built body before, but his called to you, begging you to come closer. There was something about him you couldn’t resist, and you wanted to find out more.

“Ah, shit, er, crap. Sorry, I’m trying to be better about that.” James sighed. “We’re past time already. I better go. It was a pleasure meeting you. Get some water, and hopefully, I’ll catch you later.”

James left you alone. You heard the mutterings of Nancy over the microphone, but you found yourself too flustered amongst your own thoughts to comprehend her words. His fingertips had branded your back, the memory all too much to handle. You had never felt this way before. You were sure it was chemistry. You were determined to see where this feeling would take you.

As you entered the lobby, the other contestants shuffled through double doors into another room. You stepped in line with the others and followed them into the ballroom. The production level completed in the hours you’d been present astounded you. Within the room stood a two-level stage with a spiral staircase on either side. American flags and giant glimmering stars hung on the back of the stage and from the ceiling. A sea of folding chairs sat evenly distributed across the floor. The sudden image of possibly thousands of people sitting in those chairs made you nauseous. You pushed it to the back of your mind as Nancy explained the situation.

“Now for the moment we’ve all been waiting for: the pageant routine!” Nancy directed the women to their various positions. It seemed easy enough. Step and pause and step and pause. Still, the walk took six attempts before no mistakes were made. As you approached your final position, you found James off-stage. You made eye contact for only a split second before returning your focus to the stage. You felt flustered, then embarrassed over the effect that he was having on you. You had to keep it together.

“Ok, ladies! Let’s move on to the next section of the show!” Nancy announced. More walking, this time from a different approach for section two of the event. Nancy continued to add to the routine, and you continued to sneak peeks at James. You couldn’t sway your delusion; almost sure he watched you more than the other women.

After six hours of standing, walking, looking at James, and listening to Nancy say “Alright, ladies” for the millionth time, you were finally off the hook for the day. As all the contestants shuffled out of the ballroom, Tanya found her way to you.

“Hey! Day One is over, and it’s only 5:30.”

“Thank god, right?” you said, relaxing your posture for the first time today.

“So, if I were you, I’d go walk on over to James and see what he’s up to tonight.”

“What? How did you—”

She laughed. “I saw you guys talking when I came back from the bathroom. I noticed how you were checking him out. And he was totally staring at you throughout the whole rehearsal.” She nudged your arm with her elbow.

“Shut up. Don’t mess with me right now.”

“I’m not!” Tanya said. “You need to go for it.”

You sighed. “Oh, I don’t know. I mean my—my family might be doing something tonight.”

“Please, you’ve worked so hard to get here! Go have some fun! When was the last time you did anything for yourself?”

She raised a good point. He was too intoxicating to pass up. And what harm could another conversation cause?

“Fine,” you said. “Next time I see him, I’ll talk to him. What are you up to tonight?”

“Oh, a couple of the girls are getting drinks, so I better get going! I’ll see you tomorrow. You have to tell me everything.” She gave you a quick hug before running off.

Your fear kept you rooted to the floor beneath you. You sighed. There was no way you were going to go through with it. The boys would freak out, and this wasn’t a vacation. You were working. You turned around to head to your room in defeat. Your spin on the hardwood floor broke your balance, and you slipped backward. Yet, you never hit the ground, two arms catching your fall.

“You know, when I said, ‘catch you later,’ this isn’t what I meant.” James chuckled as he lifted you back to your feet.

You were mortified. You so suddenly ran hot across every inch of you. His hands never left your body, keeping you close.

“This is the second time, now, that you’ve helped me. I’m so embarrassed,” you said candidly.

“Don’t be,” he said, still holding you close.

You felt your pulse rise with each of his breaths. His eyes bore into yours, and even if the moment only lasted for two whole seconds, the weight of it lasted a lifetime.

“Forgive me if this is too forward,” James continued, “but what are you doing tonight?”

You, you thought uncharacteristically. Your mind was melting before your eyes. The desperation to come up with something quick swelled beneath your skin. “Umm, not much. It should be a relaxing night.”

“What if you joined me for dinner? I’ll buy. I’d hate myself if I didn’t try to ask you out.”

You were careful not to shudder in his grasp. Nothing could have prepared you for this moment. You did everything you could to conjure a nod. “What time were you thinking?”

“Meet me in the lobby at seven?” he asked.

“I—I can do that.”

James smiled. “Then I’ll see you at seven.”

The two of you parted ways, your head dizzy with excitement. Your emotions stirred in your head as you headed to your room. Before you opened the door, you took a deep inhale. You pled that the boys were still out investigating. Writing a note would be easier than facing them, you decided. You exhaled as you unlocked the door.

To your disappointment, the boys sat on their respective beds, Sam with his laptop and Dean sharpening his knife.

“Oh hey,” Sam said smiling up at you. “How’d it go?”

A pang of guilt struck just beneath your lungs, though you didn’t know what you could feel guilty for.

“Oh, you know, it was good, a lot of standing and stepping.” You released a breath, nervous to break the news. “And I made a friend or two.”

“Oh, sweet,” Sam said. “We knew you’d have no trouble with this.”

“Yeah, it was good. How’s the research going?”

“Coming up dry,” Dean said. “Nothing’s out of the norm here. No angry dead Miss America contestants or anything like that.”

“You didn’t get any readings, did you?” Sam asked.

“No. I tested the lobby and ballroom. Nothing. So, what are we thinking, now?”

Dean stood up. “Well, I say we take a break. How about we get some food before we return to square one?”

“Mmm, about that,” you said. “You guys go without me. I sorta made plans.”

“Plans?” both boys said.

You winced at their surprise. “It’s no big deal. One of the friends I made asked me to go out, so I said yes.”

You sucked in your lip as the boys exchanged a look of disbelief. “It’s not a big deal,” you said again, not quite sure if you were reassuring them or yourself.

“So,” Dean said finally, “what are you and this ‘friend’ gonna be up to?”

“Just a dinner. It doesn’t have to be long. I meet him at 7, so—”

“Him? So, it’s a date. Sam, it’s a date.”

“I heard,” Sam said, his voice dry.

“Guys,” you said, exasperated. “Fine. Maybe it’s a date.”

“I’m not sure I like this,” Dean said. “You don’t know this guy.”

“I thought that’s what the dinner was for.”

Dean looked to Sam, who had turned away as if to hide the thoughts running through his head. Dean huffed. “Listen. I want you back by ten. No later. I want a text every time you stop at a different location.”

You nodded.

“Now, are you… prepared?”

“Well, I’d like to take a few minutes to get ready. I mean—”

“No, no.” Dean sighed again. His cheeks turned a tinge of red before rummaging through his duffle bag.

“Dean, what are you—”

He pulled out a small square wrapper from his bag.

“You can’t be serious.” Sam forced a dry laugh from his throat.

“Can’t ever be too careful,” Dean said trying to hand the condom to you.

“Woah!” You backed up completely flustered. “That’s—it’s not like that! I mean, I don’t think—”

“It’s always good to keep it in your back pocket. Sometimes the heat of the moment sneaks up on you.”

You were speechless, your jaw on the floor and your cheeks set ablaze. You dared to look at Sam in hopes that he would defend you. His eyes burned a hole in his computer, his whole face flushed, his eyebrows furrowed.

You snatched the wrapper from Dean’s hand and shoved it in your pocket. “Anything else you need from me? Need me to give you the play-by-play when I come back?”

“No!” Both boys yelled. You jumped at the urgency.

“No,” Dean said calmer. “But I do want to walk you out, so we know who to kill if he fucks up.”

“You’re joking. No. No way.”

“I’ll come with you,” Sam said, standing at full height.

Two against one. Before today, you would have folded in embarrassment, opting to stay inside for good. But the boys didn’t understand that this would be your first night of freedom in years. Your first night of freedom in your whole adult life. You weren’t going to allow this opportunity to pass you up.

“Fine,” you said finally.

You took the time to refresh yourself, the ticking clock a rude instigator of anticipation. It was finally time to go, and as you left the room, the boys followed close behind.

James had beat you down to the lobby. He stood at the sight of you, a smile wide on his face, only for it to taper as he took in the Winchesters behind you.

“Hey,” you said. “I’m ready to go if you are.” You grabbed his arm to pull him toward the exit.

“Who are they?” James asked.

You rolled your eyes. “My guard dogs apparently. Let’s get out of here.”

“After you.” He opened the lobby door for you, and the two of you headed to his car before the boys could say a word.

chapter 4

#sam winchester x reader #supernatural #spn #sam winchester #dean winchester #dean winchester x platonic!reader #sam winchester fluff #spn angst #spn fluff #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural series #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #Long Cool Woman

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dearestxiao · 11 months ago

Text

the color blue: vibrance | yandere xiao x reader, yandere venti x reader

synopsis: (college au) you've found solace in a newfound, faceless friend after a messy break up left a hole of loneliness to be filled. you can't help but countdown the days until his identity is finally revealed, but perhaps you've known this mysterious friend all along.

WARNINGS: while this chapter is mostly tame, this story will progress to have heavier and darker themes. implied stalking, manipulation and guilt-tripping, student-teacher dynamics (reader is 21, zhongli is in his late 20's/ early 30's), threats of finacial manipulation. I believe that's all but let me know if there's more! reader is gender-neutral

wc: 6.6k

authors note: it's finally here! the re-upload of the color blue <3!!!!!! thank you all so so much for your patience. bare with me guys, this story is a slowburn. (also you cannot pay me to yap less). this is a re-upload of my fic from my old deactivated blog based on my college! however, this isn't a complete re-upload. for those who have read the original version of the color blue, some parts of the story have been altered and edited to better fit my vision of what i want the story to be (so no horned up xiao (yet) sorry guys </3) i really really hope all these changes are still enjoyable, though! thank you to those who made it possible to recover this story from my old blog, and thank you all for staying tuned <3

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏” ♡♡♡ [part 2] [part 3]

this is a dark fiction story. minors, do not interact. as always, reblogs are extremely appreciated!

you have a love-hate relationship with fall.

fall was a melancholic season for you, a season that practically begged you to simply stay home and away from the gloomy, blue skies. fall isn't a bad season, not by any means, but you do absolutely hate just how much more cozy it made your bed feel, how the soft pitter-patter of morning fall rain would ring out against the glass of your window as though beckoning you silently to stay under the warmth of your cozy blanket, how it became increasingly harder to get out of bed with the way the floors (and days as a whole) were cold and contrasting against the heat of your comforter (which, as the day goes by, you truly are starting to realize more and more why comforters have the word 'comfort' in them).

you liked the fallen leaves, with their reds and golds and oranges. you liked the pumpkins and the rain and the sweaters and the need for warm drinks, but god does fall make it impossible for you to get up these days.

luckily for you, your roommate has a knack for getting you to do things you don't necessarily want to do.

the first thing you awaken to (apart from the numerous snooze alarms you've dismissed in the past hour) is the borderline obnoxious feeling of your roommate bouncing onto the bed to the side of your (once) sleeping body, startling you. you can't say that this was the first time you've been woken up with a bang like this, but you could certainly say that it won't be the last.

"goooooodmorning, sunshine!" despite your eyes not being open, you can practically hear the sinister grin plastered all over his face as he let's out a greeting in his singsong voice, watching as you groan out at his chipperness. you never understood how your bestfriend could be such a morning person, but you supposed that facet of his life fit him well, just like you hating mornings fit you.

"venti." you let out, feeling him shake you awake. "get out."

your lovely, loving roommate responds with an exaggerated sigh, followed up by him gently jabbing a chipped baby blue lacquered finger at your cheek as you try to bury yourself into your pillow. he pressed against you just like how you had pressed your own against the button that, had you not pressed an excessive amount, would have avoided this situation as a whole. you can't help but feel as if the snooze button was invited purely just to spite people like you.

"aw, c'mon, I can hear your alarm from the other room you know. you were gonna need to wake up eventually." you force your head up just a little to pick up and peek at your phone with one sleepy eye, reading the time on the clock and realizing he's right, causing you to know full well that had he not woken you up you would've easily slept through your morning classes.

putting your phone back down, you roll your eyes. "yeah, yeah." you mock, moving to yawn and stretch before giving venti your full attention, eyeing his mischievous grin from your position. "what'd you want?"

"ugh, can't a man wake up his bestfriend without having any nefarious intentions in mind?" you deadpan at him, giving him that sort of look that just screams, 'no.'

"okay, fine, so I do have some mal-intent, but I made you breakfast, so it evens out! and since you're obviously so insistent on helping me out..." he smirks, and you instantly become suspicious, but you allow him to talk, wanting to see what he plans to rope you into this time.

"you know how I'm a great friend, an amazing one at that, and take you out to places all the time so that you can truly come out of that little shell you like to keep yourself in? how I'm such an oh-so amazing person that I use my popularity to let you enjoy life to your fullest? how I love to spoil you dearly, allowing you to truly-"

you're half tempted to throw a pillow at his face. "get to the point," you groan.

he dramatically rolls his eyes. "ugh, you're no fun. so, there's this halloween party..."

"I don't like where this is going."

he presses his pointer finger right against your lip. "hush! so, there's this halloween party, and I think it'd be fun for you to tag along with-"

"no."

"don't be a grinch! c'mon, I need a date! I even bought us matching costumes!"

"don't you have, like, a million other people that could be your date?."

he groans. "ugh, you know, you should seriously stop thinking about what others think. besides, all you've been doing these past few weeks is studying and sleeping. you need a break, have some fun! I promise it'll be a great time."

you sigh, willing to hear him out. you suppose you have been overworking yourself. "and what if I'm busy on sunday?"

he doesn't respond with quick wit like he usually does, and it makes you worried. you finally take a full, good look at him as you respond, and you watch as you see the smile on his once beaming face start to dissipate, and you instantly get hit with a pang of guilt at the sight. you note the way in which he's half dressed and how his messy dyed blue hair is still pinned back, as though he really did go out of his way to wake you up while he was getting ready. he looks away from you, as though he's trying to hold himself back from saying something. "do you... do you really have plans on halloween?" he says lowly, as though heartbroken.

the guilt really is hitting you strong. only venti can make you feel this bad this early in the morning.

"well, not at night atleast, but I'm not exactly sure that I want to spend it watching you in a costume get wasted." you try to joke, but you can tell that somethings up with venti. he doesn't find it funny, not one bit. "besides, I'm sure that you can find someone else to be the... er, morticia to your gomez addams, or something."

he nods slowly in an almost wounded baby bird fashion. "right. sorry for asking. I knew it'd be a bad idea to ask." his voice croaks a bit like he's right at the brink of tears. he moves to get up, as though trying to flea the scene, but your hand on his wrist stops him from going.

"hey, wait, what's wrong? I didn't think this would be such a big deal to you. you always party without me."

he let's out a tired, exhausted sigh. "you don't get it. it's fine, I can find someone else like you said."

"get what?"

"it," he replies. "you don't get it. it's not just a party to me." you quirk a worried browed towards his way, beckoning for him to explain. he shakes his head solemnly.

"it's just... it feels like you never want to hang out with me anymore. I don't know. I've been trying to make excuses for us to finally spend some time together but everytime you say no. I know that you're busy and all, and parties aren't exactly your thing, but you usually love halloween so I just thought..." he pauses, taking a deep breath. "it just... hurts. hurts that despite living with you I barely get to see you."

you interlace your hand with his, something you know that has always brought him comfort. you squeeze, letting out a little sigh, watching as he refuses to look at you as pink dusts his cheeks. you mull it over quickly as he looks at you at the feeling of your hand. "I'll go to the party." you say, despite knowing full well that you'd rather die than attend it. you'd truly do just about anything for your bestfriend.

"really?" he says, eyes wide as his signature smile begins forming again on his face. "you'll go? seriously?"

you shrug. "yeah, sure. who knows, it may be fun. hopefully, atleast."

venti nods eagerly, thumbing at your hand in delite. "great! you won't regret it, I promise. I'll tell you more about it later. oh [name], we'll have a blast, I swear on it." venti produces this wide, toothy grin, smiling down at you like you just told the man that he won a life-times supply of wine.

"thank you, thank you, thank you! I'd love to keep you here, but now that you've sealed the deal with me, you should start to get going." you check the time and he's right, you really should. shit, you're gonna be late for your class.

-----♡

you still have the very first letter he sent to you.

that fact is something you remember when your eyes land on the calendar on your wall as you hastily get ready for class. many of the days are crossed out, with only a handful remaining until the last day of the month; october 31st, the faithful day you will meet your penpal.

you still cant believe you're meeting him. the days—months, even— before you two came into contact are still a haze in the back of your mind. it was a little after your mind had become frazzled in the aftermaths of a messy, sudden breakup. during that time you had spent more time holding yourself inside an isolated cacoon than you'd like to admit.

the break up (that's still too much of an open wound for you to even want to think about right now) had honestly shook you to your core, making you crave some time alone, time to think and reflect on what had happened and on yourself. you spent most of your time away from everyone who wasn't venti (who, to be fair, you didn't really have a choice of getting away from in the first place, even if you had wished to).

however, there was an issue you couldn't ignore. despite the sheer largeness of the student population at your university, and how many people you know through your more than social roommate, you've always felt an incredible loneliness, a loneliness that was only worsened after the breakup.

for weeks on end you had craved some sort of connection, a fresh start, someone you could talk to that was your friend and not just venti. luckily, one day you had stumbled upon something while scrolling through your school's forum, a beacon of light.

it was a post where you could apply to be a penpal.

the idea seemed fun to you. all you had to do was submit a short bio of yourself, say some stuff you're into, what kind of penpal you were interested in, and your school mailbox. after that, you'd simply just have to wait and see if someone had took interest in you.

you honestly weren't expecting much, but you were pleasantly surprised when a few different people had actually sent in letters after a couple days. one was in reply to a letter you sent to someone who also posted their bio. another was in response to yours. the one that had stuck with you most, though, was one from an unrecognizable address off campus with an even less recognizable name attached.

and there it was, a glimmering sheet of the potential to get out of your slump right inside of your mailbox.

who was he? you couldn't help but be intrigued, and after reading over the letter the mysterious stranger (penpal?) had sent, you felt more than inclined to respond, quickly creating a relationship with the man who you would soon end up considering a close friend.

truth be told, you had obsessed over his letters, partially out of curiosity, and partially out of the way you felt so connected to this newfound friend despite never having spoken to him before. he always wrote them in a hasty, cursive script, sometimes a little smudged. many words were always scribbled out, as if constantly trying to find the best words to say, causing large blotches of the paper to be stained with dark ink. and yet the words themselves were soft and delicate. he never wrote with intensity. and he never wrote much about himself, either.

the extent of personal things he'd share eith you were limited to things like a song he was really into at the moment, a book he read recently, an assignment he was working on, or a quiet spot around or near campus he discovered. every once in awhile he'd honor you with a small little story about his life, but most of the time he'd spend his letters asking about details on yours. no matter how hard you tried to stir the conversation towards him, he always brought it back towards you, you, you. any question you'd ask would be met with short answers, or would simply just pivot back to asking about you.

you couldn't lie and pretend like it didn't fuel and egg on your curiosity. he always wrote just enough to keep you intrigued, making you feel insatiable, always wanting to know more. and yet, despite your best efforts, your mysterious penpal never gave up any more information than you needed to know.

you have a mental compilation of the upmost important details of him: the first is that he, of course, obviously goes to the same school as you, that's a given. there'd be no way he would've become your penpal otherwise. he lives off-campus, though, like you do.

the second is that he's in the same year as you, and you think he's somewhere in the history department, again, like you are. that means you've probably atleast seen him around at some point.

the third, and most important, is that he (atleast from what he alludes to) has some sort of past he rather not bring up, some past wounds and scars he'd rather not show, something that makes him keep his barriers up.

and that wall is thick. you've spent more hours than you can think pensively thinking about the identity behind the smudged ink, but to no avail. you didn't even know his real name. 'alatus' was what he told you to call him, but it's clear the name was just nothing more than a childhood nickname.

then, one day, you had opened up the newest letter he had sent and to your surprise, the sole thing written on the sheet of paper was a simple sentence and a string of numbers right under it— a phone number, his phone number. it read, "I want to be able to talk to you more than we can through these letters."

and talk, you two did.

maybe it's the ability to talk to him continously without having to await until you recieve a new letter, but you two had talked a lot, quickly becoming closer and closer. while you made sure to not sure anything too personal, you had shared much of your life with him, sometimes telling him things even venti didn't know. and sometimes, on rare occasions, he'd share something back, just enough for you to be ever craving more.

that craving was promised to be satiated after he had asked you something one night after talking for hours.

alatus: can we meet? we don't have to if you're not comfortable, of course, but I'd like to see you.

of course you said yes.

you: but how will I know it's you when I see you? you: tell me something special about yourself. some way I can know it's you when I see you alatus: I have nothing special about myself to tell you.

you: that's got to be a lie. of course you have something special about yourself. just give me something to identify you with or something, pleaseee alatus: the only thing that I can tell you is that I like the color blue. you: that doesn't tell me anything alatus: it tells you more than enough, you'll see.

that conversation happened a little over a month ago, and despite how much you've talked to him since then, you know not much more about him than you did before.

after finishing your routine and getting ready for class, you make sure to pick up a marker before you leave, crossing out yesterday's date. you only have just a few more 'x's' before you meet him.

ーーー☆

if there was one thing you hated more than having to leave a perfectly warm bed in the mornings everyday, it'd be the busy morning trains.

nothing feels more terrible (atleast in your grumpy, groggily morning mindstate) than being pushed and shoved by people with no basic understanding of personal space, or having to listen to the chattering loud noises of business men talking way too loud for comfort on their phone, or having to be painfully alert of just what stop you're getting off at when you're so tired and sluggish that you're genuinely wondering if your morning classes are even worth attending (you're definitely gonna schedule your classes different next semester, you can't help but think).

but if there's one thing that makes these trainrides even remotely better, one small but sole and detrimental saving grace, it's familiar faces.

you're never in the mood to talk during the mornings, mind too occupied on other things to handle maintaining even the most basic of conversations, but sometimes having someone accompany you makes you feel less lonely in a room (or in this case, a train cart) full of people, and that counts for atleast something. there's part of you that wishes that venti had accompanied you today on your way to classes even though his classes don't start till much later. your mental state is practically begging for some absentminded chatter to keep it occupied (venti always had a talent for talking when needed and distracting you from just about everything wrong in life, a talent that you're craving to bless you with right now).

luckily for you, though, as your eyes trail around the crowded train, you find something equally as distracting as a close friend would be.

you're still so, so utterly sleepy, but as your eyes trail to a glint of green (specifically the faded color you get after not redying your once vibrant blue hair in a long time), you suddenly feel a bit more awake, making eyecontact with the man that, no matter how much you try, seems to never not glare at you with his piercing golden eyes.

it's definitely not uncommon to see xiao on the same morning train as youーhell, it's not even uncommon for you to see him on the same night train as you, despite how sporadic the times you leave campus to go home isー considering you two share numerous classes with eachother (classes you're almost sure from limited knowledge that he's not actually into, classes that genuinely make you stop and wonder how and why xiao chose to be in them). but the sight of him makes your heart race a little, both at the way he steals quick glances at you before looking away, and at the way you find yourself silently intrigued by him, especially by just what his constant glances (and glares) could possibly mean mean.

despite his catish looks, xiao is a beautiful person, you think, fingers tightening around the train pole to keep your balance as your mind fills up with thoughts on the man infront of you.

he's pretty.

you feel eyes on you as you move to look away, not wanting to stare at him for long enough to seem like a creep (though unbeknownst to you, xiao does not share that same sentiment), instead moving to put in your earbuds and tune out all other chattering in the train, drowning it out with your music as you let yourself absentmindedly think of xiao. you noted that he looked exhausted, even moreso than usual, as though he'd been up all night just like you had. his hair was messy, thrown up in a half up half down style that framed his pierced face and ears perfectly in it's own imperfect way, and his eyebags match the overall tired feel he has going on. some things never change, you think.

you remember all the way back when you were just a college freshmen, locking eyes with the man for the first time ever in your life (though it wasn't by any means the first time his eyes laid upon you) just like you had moments prior. you vividly recall the way your breath hitched and your body stilled, the way you stared at him for far too long, the way your eyes glanced over all of him, as though trying to etch him into your memory.

it was like a scene from one of those teen romcoms you and venti watch whenever you're bored and want to hangout on saturdays, those scenes that feel too magical to ever even be considered as a possibility of happening in real life, only this time nothing truly spectacular came out of the moment. the occurance wasn't special, not by any means, but when your eyes locked with his the world seemed to stop and it was as though you two were the only ones in the world.

back then, his hair wasn't dyed the two iconic tones of blue he now rocks (or atleast, used to, before it faded out), nor did he have nearly as many expressive piercings and tattoos decorating his body further. instead, xiao was just... xiao; a blank slate begging to be covered in the self expressive forms xiao later delved deep into. there's always this soft frown on his face and eyes that are practically begging to be stared into.

the first thing you had noted back then (and even now as they grow in desperation) were his borderline begging eyes. begging to be seen. begging to be comforted. begging to be heard. eyes are the windows to the soul, and in xiao's case, xiao's windows lead into a home that has far too much going on, a home with curtains trying to shield people from looking inside, though they're far too sheer to actually do their jobs. a lonely soul. his eyes themselves weren't dead or empty, just... tired, as though they constantly scour around in attempt to find meaning in everyday life. the beautiful gold was and still is accented by horridly dark circles, and the thing you've never noticed about xiao is the way his eyes glimmer and sparkle a little when they meet yours. perhaps you don't pay attention to him as much as you think, as much as he would to you.

if you did, you'd know he found meaning you.

it's an admittedly comforting sight, moody and drowning like the deepest of oceans despite their gold glimmer, human. they make you feel seen, but most of all, they glare deep into the part of you that wants so heavily to just be there for him as though he's silently pleading for your attention. it looks like he's begging to be hugged and loved, or more specifically, to be loved back.

there's a part of you that wondered if half of the purpose of his appearance change was to intimidate people from trying to figure him out, to pretend as though his eyes weren't as desperate for comfort as they truly were.

and in that same exact (anticlimactic) moment, you came to the realization that everyone has a life just as deep and complex and layered as yoursーsonderー, and you furthermore realized that you want to know each and every complexity that the blue haired man in front of you had. you had found it unfair that you didn't know everything there was to know about him, and even now, as you stare and once again memorize the features you should already have etched into your head by now, mind trailing to the thought of just how many opportunities you've had to learn all there is to know about them that you didn't take, that fact still hasn't changed despite how many opportunities you had to over the past few years. xiao has remained the blank slate he was two years prior, no matter how dearly you wished otherwise.

perhaps that's your true downfall as a human being. curiosity is a curse. somethings are better left unknown, just like the identity of the man you've met online.

either way, no ones ever felt more like home then xiao did. though you? you're his entire universe and more.

now as your eyes shamefully lingers on him once more, wanting to get one last look at him before you have to get off the train due to reaching your (and his) destination, you come to a revelation.

xiao looks like the color blue.

ーーーNEW TEXT MESSAGE ☆

you: how'd you sleep last night?

you: maybe we should've slept earlier, I'm on my way to class right now and feel super exhausted

alatus: sorry. I shouldn't have kept you up. if it's worth anything, I'm really tired too.

alatus: I don't regret it though.

you: I don't either, but I will say I do regret asking you for that hint. haven't stoped thinking about it ever since I asked for it lol

alatus: really?

you: yeah, saw this guy on my commute to school and instantly thought about the color blue. it felt so weird

you: I don't think he even likes blue lol

alatus: yeah? what'd he look like?

you: like someone who hates colors as a whole

ーーー☆

today hadn't been the best of days for you.

you knew from the way professor zhongli had eyed you up and down as you walked into his classroom, mumbling a soft and short apology for being a few minutes late, that you should've just stayed home today. there was a nauseating glint in his eyes as they trailed after you, watching as you sat down. everyone else was eerily quiet, as though trying not to awake a sleeping dragon, causing anxiety to shoot through your veins. something was wrong.

"glad you've finally graced us with your presence, [name]. perhaps you'd like to inform the class as to why you were late today?" he speaks, uncaring of the lesson he was teaching just seconds ago, far more interested in chastizing you for just how disappointing you've been as of late. you squirm in your seat, chewing on the bottom of your lip as you think of what to say.

"I..." he doesn't give you a chance to truly explain himself. he rolls up the long sleeves of his white button up, heels clicking against the tiles of the floor as he walks to your desk.

"surely you've stayed up late studying for my class to make up for the sloppy quality of work you've been turning in as of late, correct?" he speaks lowly in his what would otherwise be soothing voice, but all it does is make the moment more embarrasing, more intimate as you feel the pitied stares of your classmates.

you don't respond. you can't, really. it's as though your lips are sealed with the weight of the poison laced on his words. the best you can do is fidget with your hands, already beginning to hold back tears, lip quivering as you try not to let your professor's notoriously ruthless teaching methods get to you. you could be sassy and catty with venti considering how close you two are, sure, but you could never be able to speak up against the domineering man infront of you.

"youー" zhongli isn't able to get a full word into his sentence before stopping as he hears the door to the class open once again. you're don't dare look back, but you do hear a quiet, mumbled apology for being late, and just from the tone alone you can tell it's coming from xiao. you watch as zhongli shakes his head at the sight, entire body radiating disappointment, and yet he doesn't give xiao the same scolding he gave you, saving him from the embarrasment.

what a biased dick, you think.

he shakes his head, sighing, deciding to save his energy. "... see me after class, [name]. you seem to be having a rough day, so I'll try to stop myself from adding onto your stress as much as possible. but please understand that in the future, lateness is unacceptable in this class. you should know this by now." the way he speaks is almost gentle, a lot more sweeter, as though he's simply just disappointed in you, but you know deep inside that there's more to his thiny veiled act of trying to parent you than meets the eye, a darker intent. you hate it, and you hate how you can't speak up, but you're grateful he spared you atleast some of his scolding, so you instead resort to simply nodding as zhongli goes back to teaching his class as though nothing ever happened.

-----♡

you spent the better half of your lecture worrying more about what was to come after than on the actual lesson itself. you refused to make zhongli's eyes, far too scared that if you were to make contact with his piercing ones that you'd lose all your resolve in an instant. time couldn't have gone by slower, but eventually, after what felt like days of waiting, the lecture was finally wrapped up for the day, and you watched as everyone shuffled out of the room except you and the professor himself.

"today's class felt longer than usual, hm?" zhongli attempts to joke as though to lighten the mood, but you don't dare to respond. you hear him sigh at the way you don't respond, accompanied by the quiet shuffling of paper as he makes his way to you. god, you want to be home right now.

"I wanted to talk about your performance in my class, [name]. please take a look at this," he slides a familiar looking group of stapled papers onto your desk, one that you hesistantly look at, only to wish that you had eyes at all in an instant at the sight.

you wish the world would simply swallow you whole at the sight of bright, red ink, showing a blaring '40%' at the upper right corner of the assignment you'd spent hours slaving over for, breath hitching in shock. you feel sick to your stomach, as though the red was the same red you'd see in the aftermath of a murder, only this time, the thing being brutally killed is your own ego.

you could've lived a good, long, healthy life without seeing such a ghastly sight.

"it's certainly not bad, but you could be... better. much better. I expect more from you. you know that. and I know you. you can do much better than this sloppy work you've been handing in lately." he speaks, shattering your heart word by word.

throughout your years at this school you've had your far share of lower grades, and you've always managed to take them with stride. this was different, though. every student knows that in all of the classes zhongli's teaches, anything less than perfect is practically a death sentence.

"but I..."

"no buts. I would love an explanation, however, if you have one to give me."

you don't have an explanation. you've been working hard just as you have since you started taking his classes sophmore year, so why are you suddenly now failing so terribly? you shake your head at himーthis must be a mistake. a big, big mistake.

"...you're on scholarship student, aren't you?" you nod your head, knowing full well that had it not been for the full ride you've been given, you wouldn't even be setting foot near this building, let alone this classroom. "you do want to keep attending this school, don't you? you'd likely lose your scholarship if you don't improve soon. we both know full and well how finicky administration are with grades."

you try your hardest to hold back tears as the papers in your hand begin to slightly crumble from the force of your grip on them at the sheer thought of losing the very thing allowing you to go here. one even goes as far as to fall, splattering against the once prestine white sheet, soaking in and feathering out and smudging the blue pen ink that you used to write your oh-so-unimpressive answers with.

you wonder just where exactly things went wrong; you had worked so hard on this assignment, how could it not be 'good enough?' most importantly, how were you supposed to impress him? wasn't your sheer effort enough? you gave it all of your all, but he still somehow wants more, though you're not exactly sure how much you have left to give to him.

he watches your form with pity. his eyebrows furrow as he bends down a little to meet your eye thats paying far too much attention to the floor beneath. a gloved hand takes your face in his palm, thumbing at your eyes so as to wipe your tears away, but it does nothing to comfort you.

"poor thing. this entire ordeal must be stressful for you.... perhaps you can have one of the teacher assistants help you. I'd suggest ganyu, but as of late, she's been busy, and I'd assume you'd be better off getting tutored by someone actually in the same course as you. you and xiao seem to be getting along lately, though I know he has a rough surface. perhaps you could melt through that barrier though. I can tell you can. I can speak to him, if you'd like."

you honestly can't comprehend his words with the way your pounding heart is much more louder than his soft tone of voice. your lip quivers as you attempt to meet his eye. you can't find the strength in you to reply.

"will you atleast consider trying to get into contact with him?" he asks after no response. you shakily nod, albeit hesitantly, and he gently lets go of your face at the notion, smiling lightly.

"good. it'd be a shame to see you lose the scholarship you worked so hard on attaining. make me proud, [name]. you've always been my star student. I trust that you and the extra help at your disposal will resolve this little issue you're having. you have my private number, correct?" you nod again, much to his pleasure.

"please contact me whenever you desire. I can set-up one on one time to make sure you're caught up to speed. now get to your other classes for me, okay? I'm sure you have a long day ahead of you."

'a long day' is an understatement, you think, because your day feels blue, moody, as dark as the clouded sky. you wonder briefly how you can cover up your frustration before anyone at your next class sees. you suddenly feel a seering hatred for the soft pitter patter that rings against the windows that seem to mock you and the fact that you didn't stay in the coziness of your bed today.

perhaps you should have stayed home after all.

ーーーNEW TEXT MESSAGE ☆

you: gonna be home late, going to the library to study. start dinner without me

you: today sucked bad

venti: what's wrong?????? what happened???? come home please, you know I don't like you staying out after dark, especially when your upset

you: im okay. I think zhongli is the worst professor I've ever had though seriously

venti: did something happen?!?!?!? I'm sorry ): we can hug when you get home okay? and talk it out? whatever you wanna do.

you: yeah, thanks. actually kind of need that hug rn. gna go to the library

venti: okay, stay safe... call me?

you: can't. it's pouring outside so i have to go. see you soon though.

ーーー☆

you find yourself growing tired of this routine.

it wasn't a terrible one, not by any means, but the days are truly starting to blend in with one another. everyday, you wake up, go to class, pray your work is up to the hightened standards of professor zhongli (and all of the other freakishly stern teachers here, for that matter), study, go home again, and prepare yourself to it all over again tomorrow. if you're lucky, your roommate breaks your routine just a bit, forcing you through whatever shenanigans he deems fit for that given night. eitherway you were tired, desperate to forget about today's stresses. maybe venti was right; a party would take the edge off.

atleast your other classes, apart from one taught by professor dottore (which you luckily didn't have today), weren't as bad as zhongli's.

nonetheless, after hours of studying in the warmth and comfort of your campus library without interruption (minus the time when your two friends albedo and sucrose had asked if you needed any help, to which you declined) felt your eyelids become heavier and heavier and your energy strained, begging you to simply go home and rest for the night.

the train is crowded as expected, and almost all the seats were taken apart from a few that were just made empty after people got off the stop. you take it, too tired to stand for the rest of the trip home after the long day that you had. but honestly, you're starting to think that whoevers in charge of the universe is seriously playing a joke on you or something, becauss someone takes the open seat right next to you as you sit down, and it's the person you least were expecting to have to sit alongside. xiao.

he looks a little out of breath, as though he ran to catch the train. he makes no effort to even acknowledge the fact that you're seated right next to him as he plays music through his headphones. even so, xiao is a beaming light in the sea of tuxed business men who hate their jobs and gloomy faced riders tired of the long day.

quite frankly, you're lucky you even got a seat, even if it meant having to sit next to the man you cannot get out of your head despite how much you think he dislikes you.

the sheer crowdedness of the train makes it so that you're pressed flushed against him, feeling the emmense amount of body heat emitting from his body. if you were any less exhausted, you'd be freaking out right now from the proximity, and honestly, you kinda still are, but you're too tired to truly feel weighed down by it.

you actively had to fight hard from going unconscious right then and there from how tired you are. you really didn't want to fall asleep on the train, but god, today was just so long, and xiao (who still hasn't even so much as glanced your way) is so warm, and such a comforting presence, and your feet ache and you didn't sleep much last night and you'd do anythibg to just get some rest.

it's a battle you lose. your body shuts down after a few minutes of trying your absolute hardest to just stay awake until you arrived to your stop, eyes drooping closed as you fall asleep next to xiao.

as you fall asleep onto xiao, as it comes to be.

#tw age gap #tw student teacher relationship #tw manipulation #tw stalking #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere xiao x reader #yandere venti x reader

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neondownpourzine · 10 months ago

Text

RAIN CODE ZINE - Interest Check Results!

Hello! After a week, we've gathered an encouraging 88 responses! With that in mind, I've decided to go through with the zine 🎉🎉🎉

Here is the full results report:

In terms of participating, we have an overwhelming majority wishing to participate as artists! There's a fairly even split between writers and readers only, and just slightly less on anyone willing to take on either writer/artist roles. With this in mind, I've considered having this zine include 24 artists, 3 digital merch artists, and 6 writers, not including the moderators.

Here are the results regarding the zine's theme. We will be focusing on a general RAIN CODE zine! However, there will still be a theme so the zine can remain cohesive.

The theme is: A Trip Down Memory Lane!

For this theme, I'm hoping for a variety of pieces focusing on each chapter of the story, from the prologue to the epilogue. I'll permit some pre-game and post-game works as well, but would prefer a major focus on the canon story.

We have a staggering dominance of people preferring to be an art moderator. Even with this in mind, we will be accepting one art moderator and one writing moderator. I will handle scheduling. Applications for both will be sent out soon.

Most people have agreed on a writer/artist collaboration, which means that 6 of the artist participants will be paired with a corresponding writer to draw art that accompanies their writing.

Most folks would be willing to have digital merch attached to the zine! We will accept 3 artists to make digital merchandise. The merchandise doesn't need to fit into any one chapter, so the rules will be a bit looser on what the art can portray.

And those are the results!

Regarding some suggestions and questions asked in the interest check:

You should add keychains/physical merch/ physical copies. Full disclosure, this is the first zine I've ever run, so this zine will be a free, digital only PDF. This is to keep it as simple and manageable as possible.

A cosplay section? I would count cosplay under art. When I release artist applications, cosplayers are welcome to submit cosplay photos and even create them as entries to the final product.

Artists should make promo art! Once I have co-moderators and participants, any artists who are willing to offer simple doodles for promotional material are welcome to contribute.

Link contributor's Ao3 accounts in the zine? The zine will offer full credits for all participants in the zine. This includes any preferred social media accounts for sites such as Ao3, Wattpad, Twitter, Tumblr, and anywhere else.

How will this be scheduled? I intend to drop a full schedule post soon, but the basic rundown will be: 15 Jan - 22 Jan: Moderator Applications 24 Jan - 25 Jan: Moderator acceptance/rejection emails sent out, mods invited to the zine's discord server and emailing list. 1 Feb - 20 Feb: Artist/Writer Applications 25 Feb - 29 Feb: Artist/Writer acceptance/rejection emails sent out, participants invited to join the discord server and emailing list. 1 March - 15 Jun: Production period, with monthly progress check-ins for all participants 16 Jun - 29 Jun: Countdown period 30 Jun: Zine releases

I assure you, Vivia Twilight will appear at least one time in this zine!

As an additional note, I'd like to thank @rararazaquato for coming up with the title of the zine!

And thank you everyone for your responses!

#rain code #raincode #mdarc #master detective archives #master detective archives: rain code #fandom zine #zine promo #interest check results

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anerdinallherglory · 4 months ago

Text

Approaching Sun (38)

Author’s Note: Long note ahead.

You guyssss. I’m sorry for the delay. The Sasuke that I am writing is new territory for most of us. I write, then rewrite until it feels right. And I have never rewritten my own script as much as I did in this chapter. If you enjoy my writing, please take a chance on my live draft on Wattpad called Beneath the Hollow Grove. There will be romance, so the same chemistry between characters in my fanfiction is very likely to be appearing there. This chapter is dedicated to Teo and ttsukei. Thank you for your extra support and love. It means everything.

Approaching Sun will eventually come to an end (sad but rewarding at the same time). I am guesstimating a total of 42-45 chapters total. I never foresaw A.S. being as long as it is already, or taking as nearly as long as it has to finish it. To be honest, I started this years ago to improve creative writing with my OTP, and anticipated on ditching it when my ADHD got the better of me. But the community kept asking and I kept giving. You can thank those people if you have enjoyed it because this story was written 100% in return for their comments and support.

Also, if you enjoy my SasuSaku, you can find a one-shot I wrote before A.S. on Fanfiction.net/Wattpad by the name of “Sakura’s Letter.” It fits these A.S. characters well.

Last but not least, there is a facebook fanpage for A.S. at the link on my Tumblr if you’d like to join. Hoping to share further A.S. resources there after the story is complete.

Songs for this chapter: Technicolour Beat by Oh Wonder & Feel Something by James Young

Thanks always, ANerdinAllHerGlory

. . .

CW: Discussion of Suicide; read with caution

Pairing: SasuSaku

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37

Chapter 38: Methods of Atonement & Eternal Burning

Just when Sakura thought the insect-glow induced spell might diminish or expire between them, she glanced over her shoulder as she bathed in the warm cave waters to see that Sasuke watched her from the bank. He sat familiarly reclined with an arm over his knee, and where Sakura might have expected his countenance to have once again returned to the smooth planes and carefully composed eyes of guardedness, she sucked in a breath to see an expression wholly new to her. His mouth was parted in a silent reverence as he beheld the cleansing paths her hands traced over her collarbones, down her neck and through her hair. Had she even thought Sasuke capable of looking at another human that way? Well, it lasted until she reached up and over her shoulder to run water down her back, right between her shoulder blades where Sasuke’s fingers had traced the Uchiha symbol. His countenance slipped, a frown of consideration deepening the lines between his brows.

Having an idea of his annoyance, she turned her back to him and smiled silently to herself when he stood, waded waist deep into the starry-lit water to join her.

“Washing already?” he murmured in that low Uchiha disappointment that told Sakura he was pretending to pout. And his faux ire at such a notion was pleasant enough to warm Sakura from within and she prided herself on her self-restraint in this moment, because she wanted to smile like an idiot until her face split at the creases of her lips.

With Sasuke’s strict abstinence of years and a single-sided willpower to outlast her own desires these last several months, Sakura was pleasantly astonished to discover that Sasuke Uchiha didn’t have such restraint in that moment. Turning her to face him, he stilled her efforts completely by touching his lips to hers. And the kiss was softer. Much slower than before. Like a whisper in a cave.

Sakura had always daydreamed about what sort of lover the untouchable Uchiha, Sasuke might be. She always expected him to be as Sasuke-ish about everything possible, including his love life. He would be the sort of man to keep his interactions with her formal in the public eye, respectable, reserved, and avoiding all physical contact that some couples easily flaunted for others to see. This was the reality that Sakura had long predicted and, therefore, accepted and did not anticipate Sasuke to be the sort of partner who, over the last couple of months, might secretly hold her hand while she slept, find excuses to be next to her, crave her touch in the private moments shared between them, and kiss her tenderly even after their bodies separated. As sad as that sounded, Sakura had predicted it, because despite how much she loved him, he was still going to be Sasuke, in the most adjective form possible of the word.

Which was why Sakura certainly had not expected the overwhelming passion of moments ago, the longing that passed between their mouths and the intensity of years’ worth of suppressed feelings into such a surmounting detonation. An explosion of celestial matter.

“It’s annoying,” he growled mischievously between their lips, tearing Sakura from her thoughts as she concentrated back on his current vexation. It had to be because Sakura had washed away the traces of Uchiha symbol he had marked between her shoulder blades. She laughed in response and continued to pull him deeper into the water, ignoring his attempts to stop her from erasing the evidence of his actions. Not even his devoted mouth making her breathless and his following steps as she descended into the river, was enough to prevent Sakura from completely submerging. And with her impossible human strength, she pulled him under after her.

Sakura saw his eyes widen in the dim glow of ethereal lights, and she grinned wickedly in return, just before complete and total blackness consumed them. The water was brisk but not freezing, the balmy cave already warming the new layers of flood water. In the depths, void of sound and light, she felt Sasuke’s arm twine around the dip in her spine, binding her body to his, and the lack of all other sensation made the grasping touch alleviate every nerve in her person. Like a healing salve to an old wound Sakura hadn’t even realized she still possessed, Sasuke’s touch was the remedy to every feeling of loss, every doubt, and confusion she had ever had in regards to him. His possessive touch that clung to her body like she was now an extension of himself made everything in the past suddenly forgivable even if what had happened wasn’t okay. It was forgivable because it brought them to this.

That look of reverence he had been appraising her with just a moment ago was completely replaced when they surfaced, an artificial glare of mild displeasure at being drenched completely eclipsing it. “Have I told you lately that you are the most annoying woman I have ever met?”

“Twice now in the last five minutes,” she giggled, wrapping her legs around his waist as Sasuke’s feet found the smooth underground surface once more. And that glare evaporated, turning back into veneration as Sasuke’s body reacted to her embrace. And Sakura realized that needed to say something now, before his knee found a chakra-controlled perch on the glassy surface of the water and he was pulling her up with him to take her between his body and the water below. She could see that he was already envisioning something of the sort in his mind.

“The last thing I want is for this between us to end,” she announced as she wound her greedy fingers through his wet hair—she had always imagined doing this very thing and it was so satisfying to finally be able to do so. “But we’re running out of time. I need to survey the area, and in the morning, I need to report to Katsuyu in Shikkotsu Forest and check on the men I’ve captured. Waiting for the off-hand chance that remaining members of Zenshin might discover our location won’t exactly get us anywhere.”

“You need food,” he whispered against her skin, and Sakura sighed as his wet hand slid up her back to reach the same spot where he had traced the Uchiha symbol earlier, giving up his quest and washing where she could not. She knew Sasuke would be sensible with her decision to move forward with her plans and reasoned that he would probably try to focus his attention back on his own mission of Kaguya once this electricity between them dissipated into a comfortable normal.

And as his words settled, Sakura realized she hadn’t eaten in almost forty-two hours and her stomach grumbled loudly to Sasuke’s victorious smirk as he successfully delayed their departure by a few moments more.

. . .

Sakura returned to the central cavern after a few private minutes to herself, the charred fragrance of something crackling over a fresh fire luring her from the enchanting tunnel of glowworms. The muffled roar of the waterfall was distant and had quieted significantly enough that Sakura could hear the crack of the fire as Sasuke roasted whatever little, unfortunate, and very possibly blind cave dwellers he had managed to find down here for them to eat.

“What are those?” she asked, crouching beside him to assess the row of tiny fish now charred and black on the skewers.

“Something between an eel and a fish,” he announced. “Neither and both. Living fossils only found in caves.”

Sakura raised an eyebrow as she investigated the freshwater fish. She couldn’t quite make out anything distinct about them now that they had been basically cooked to a crisp. Sasuke handed her a skewer and her ravenous appetite made her overlook the unfamiliar eel-fish quickly.

As she ate next to him, Sakura began to feel the contrasting shift in Sasuke’s demeanor. He ate silently, avoided her eyes, and kept the small space undisturbed between them as he stared off into the black beyond the illuminated circumference of their warming fire. Sakura stiffened in response, simultaneously annoyed at the change and nervous at its meaning. She searched his expression for any clue as to what he might be thinking and felt her stomach dropping the longer he refused to return her regard. Could a few moments apart have already cleared his mind and reset his determinations somehow? How could he go from “We won’t be able to go back from this” and “Until death” to being all hesitant again? Sakura halted her spiraling train of thought before she came crashing down like one of the stalactites hanging off the ceiling. Maybe it was something else and she just needed to address him directly. That was healthy, wasn’t it?

“What’s wrong?” she blurted. “You’re overthinking things aren’t you?” She was frightened that he would answer that with more silence or even worse, a declaration of how he had thought about what had happened, decided it was a mistake, and had changed his mind. But he laughed instead, that small, signature hmph of ejected air that had Sakura sighing in relief.

“There’s no going back now, remember?” she continued teasingly, capitalizing on his small sign of amusement at her words. “Because It’s too late to mope and reconsider how you’re not the best for me and blah blah blah.” She would do what many women often did when faced with uncomfortable couple confrontations. She would call him out on his thinking, his pattern of behavior that signaled her anxiety, and disguise it as a lighthearted chastisement and reminder. “We get to choose each other.”

“I meant what I’ve said,” he answered seriously before rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he fumbled for the words that always tangled in his throat. “But, I was irresponsible earlier and—I am sorry. What do I need to do for—Do you need anything?”

Oh. That. Sakura's face instantly reddened at the words, because she immediately knew what he was referring to and what exactly he had been hung up on until now. There were no precautions taken in the moment, and Sakura didn’t know if Sasuke’s questions were because he was worried Sakura might be angry about his carelessness after the fact, or worse, he might fear the possible consequences of such an impulsive choice.

Sakura assessed his own flushed face and he looked away again, firelight-reflecting eyes revealing the warring predicament she hadn’t been able to decipher up until now. She looked down shyly as well when she answered him.

“You don’t have to worry,” she whispered, genuinely hoping to ease his concerns even if a small part of her wished he didn’t have any. “I had prepared before… before the brothel. Just in case.”

And as his eyes snapped to her face, Sakura saw him set his jaw in understanding and trap the words he was holding there. Sakura didn’t make any adjustments to her phrase or retract her statement, because it was the truth of it, and even if it wasn’t the exact answer he cared to hear, she hoped it would be enough reassurance for him. Before Sakura had left Sunagakure, she had prepped the bag of contraceptives, taking several doses before handing over what was left to Tabi, the girl Sakura had entrusted the supplies to before she left. She hadn’t planned on using her body as Sasuke had originally feared she meant to do, but Sakura also wasn’t naïve to think she might be completely untouchable despite her claims to Sasuke that she was. As a woman, physician, and ninja, she wasn’t going to be unprepared walking into a brothel; she had also reminded herself that it would be a wise choice to get started on them anyway after expressing her desires to Sasuke about being more. Regardless, the contraceptive had been taken and the doses were supposed to last months per measurement, so Sakura wasn’t too concerned about her and Sasuke’s actions tonight.

When Sasuke stiffened and made to angle his body back toward the fire, Sakura reached out for his hand and gently grasped his fingers, a now special form of communication between them. In the beginning of their traveling together, the tender touches between them had been the first blessed crack in the ice constructed walls of Sasuke Uchiha—the big bang initiation that led to the them of now. And she hoped the gesture would work for her again as she used it once more to bring him back to the warmth they had discovered together behind those walls.

Sakura focused on her courage, fighting to have the desire to stay on the topic while it was before them. Even if her preservatory instinct was to move on from the subject as quickly as possible, Sakura knew that the mature, responsible thing to do would be to discuss it. Thoroughly, so that they could come to an agreement, find common ground, and try to be on the same page heading forward. It was a condition to their partnership that they had long since established: communication.

“Sasuke, I understand if you don’t want a family right now.” And he was looking away from her again as he, too, struggled to overcome the new discomfort of serious “couple” conversations between them. Sakura’s heart panged as she thought that maybe this nervousness meant that Sasuke Uchiha would never want children, even with her. She told herself to breathe, and not jump ahead, but she couldn’t resist voicing her fear: “Do you never–"

“It’s not a never,” he shuttered, finding her eyes with his own. “It’s just—my mission concerning Kaguya is unforeseeable.” He found her eyes and looked down when he saw the sadness his response instantly elicited in her face. He rushed to add, squeezing her fingers back. “But I promise to fight for that future. I’ll find the Otsusuki race. I’ll make the world safe so I can come back to you.”

Sakura nodded, her heart still feeling unsettled at such a promise. She reminded herself that by choosing Sasuke, she was choosing him and him alone. She wouldn’t force him to abandon his goals in order to be a husband and a father. “Even if we spend our lives like orbiting stars, passing one another in the night,” she had promised. “The miniscule amount of time I spend next to you will be more than I would want with anyone else.” It was her own vow to him, and Sakura had never meant truer words. Sakura knew what this life meant, and she could tell by the look on his face that he was worried, already concerned that she was regretting. And maybe in her heart, she was disheartened that their reality would be a difficult one. Sakura would be sacrificing several dreams, and she would have to make her peace with it all in time, because despite it all, she wanted Sasuke more than anything else. She also wanted a peaceful future, and Sasuke was the only person, in a combined effort with Naruto’s future leadership, capable of ensuring that it came to pass by fulfilling his side.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he shook his head, and Sakura saw him steel himself with a breath before forcing out, “I’m already sorry for so much. I think I’ll live our entire lives being sorry, Sakura.”

She gently squeezed his hand and shook her head as well. “I meant what I said too. I want this life with you, whatever it looks like. And of course, I eventually want a family with you, but only if that’s what you want, too. It comes second to everything else. Or not at all. Okay?”

He nodded in obvious relief and, to Sakura’s continuing list of surprises, pulled her to him. Her hands found his chest to brace herself and he inhaled the scent of her hair, whispering an apology in the crook of her neck. She kissed his lips sweetly with a comforting smile, but Sasuke took advantage and kissed her again, fervently, tenderly, consolingly in return. And Sakura decided to let him push her to the ground beneath him where his hand slid up her thigh. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Sakura made the connection that Sasuke’s conversation skills were barely adequate, but that in the private moments between them, he would choose to compensate for it with the language of bodies. This, too, was not what Sakura had expected, but it made sense that the stoic, awkward Uchiha might choose to express himself with the dedicated dialect spoken with the only other person who could receive, comprehend, and appreciate that language. With her legs tossed over his shoulders, and her fingers in his hair, and Sasuke’s head between her thighs, Sakura submitted completely as he made her forget her current and future grievances. He devoted his apology to her body like an act of repentance, and Sakura decided she would take him, take the man who promised a lifetime of regretful apologies, if this was his method of atonement. Sakura didn’t know that apologies could come in the form of slow arousals, roaming tongues, and—holy shit, suction. The sound of his own name from her mouth was the only verbalization of forgiveness that Sasuke needed in their mutually exclusive vernacular.

Sasuke was a fucking idiot. He had thought this to himself as he fisted each and every eel fish coasting below his feet, as he tried to explain his thoughts to her about starting a family, and even now as he stared at her back as they lay tangled together in sleep for the second night. Adding to the list of self-deprecations, Sasuke cursed himself for foregoing the Uchiha symbol on his clothing several years ago as an act of penance. At the time, Sasuke had felt that in order to preserve whatever was left of his clan’s dignity, he needed to part with wearing the symbol until after he felt properly atoned. He didn’t want his past and image to represent the Uchiha, furthering the disgrace of his clan in the eyes of those who knew their history or was learning of it for the first time. But as he had traced the symbol between Sakura’s shoulder blades, Sasuke had had the realization that Sakura, the only other person to bear the Uchiha name, was now going to be the new face representing their clan. In contrast to himself, Sakura had always been unwavering in her goodness, unblemished by wrongdoings, and righteously leading a new generation of mental health advocates and creating new healthcare standards. Her reach would know no bounds and there wouldn’t be a better individual walking this dimension to wear the Uchiha crest, to start a new history associated with it. It wouldn’t be Sasuke leading the Uchiha clan into the future; it would be her.

Which is why he was cursing himself now for not possessing at least one article of clothing with his crest so that he could be staring at her back in the firelight as she boasted the mark that identified her to the world as an Uchiha and as his. Did that make him a possessive bastard? Probably. But it was an Uchiha trait to be so and Sasuke was more Uchiha in both good and bad senses of the word than many before him.

And, he thought privately to himself, if his actions of last night bore the natural consequences, there could be two individuals aside from himself demonstrating to the world what the Uchiha could be. Which is why he was a fucking idiot. Because fuck, he wanted that reality as much as his next breath of oxygen. He wanted to be staring at his family’s backs as a miniature raven-haired child clung to his wife’s hand through a busy Konoha market street. It was why he had made a mistake last night, choosing to recklessly chase his high with abandon because it was the dream he wanted—knew that at the end of the day, was what Sakura wanted too. And that’s why it had devastated him to make that apology to his new wife, prepared to do what he needed to do to not force the responsibility of a child on Sakura alone while he had no choice but to continue on his mission to find those who Kaguya feared, the rest of the Otsusuki race.

He had even fucked up that apology, incompetently trying to form the words. How did he tell the woman he had just tied to himself in a cave of stars that he fucking wanted to watch her grow heavy with the swell of his child while simultaneously dreading the reality of what that would mean for her. And for him. He would miss it. He would miss all of it. He had promised Sakura a fifty-fifty partnership, and Sasuke had only just realized how badly he would fail that promise.

And these thoughts continued into the morning as the fissure in the ceiling went from boasting the brightest of stars above them to the thin purpling stripe of summer dawn, and Sakura rose from their tangled sleep, a new set determination in her shoulders to handle the members of the organization she had sent days ago into the home of her personal summon, Katsuyu.

“What’s your plan?” he asked as she turned to face him, triple folding his borrowed black trousers along her hips to make them fit better. They still hung loosely around her calves and she rolled the arms of his long sleeved shirt until the cuffs were chunky and hit her wrists exactly. He raised an eyebrow appreciatively knowing that Sakura was just making do, but the vision of her sporting a modified version of his attire sent his mind back into a perilous orbit.

“You’re not going to like your options in my plan,” she announced, oblivious to his wandering eyes.

That statement was more than sobering and it instantly put Sasuke on guard. He frowned at her.

She swallowed before saying, “You can stay here and focus on your—"

“Don’t finish that sentence,” he bristled as he interrupted her, getting really tired of hearing that phrase come out of her mouth—even though he had been the one say it a million times before this. He guessed that he deserved to hear it as often as he had said it. “I’m going with you.”

The absolute irony of his words hit them both immediately as he said it.

The pink-haired kunoichi laughed and rubbed the back of her neck as she bluntly said, “Then your second option is to be very still while Katsuyu swallows you whole, and I release her summoning back to Shikkotsu Forest. It’s the only way for you to get there. Just like the rest of them.”

Sasuke’s eye visibly twitched. “And option three is?”

“You could walk, but it would take you weeks to catch up, not to mention how much work it would take to avoid the hazards of Shikkotsu Forest such as beasets, acid pools, and toxin seeping trees.”

Sasuke tried not to be miffed that she was suggesting it might be difficult for him to traverse Shikkotsu Forest, even though he had spent the last several years exploring similar dimensions, but he trusted that if she was saying that it was bad, then it probably very well was. “And you were planning on transporting these people back to Konoha, how exactly?”

“The same way I plan on getting you in and out.”

He groaned and she smiled innocently.

They had to get these people back to Konoha somehow. Not to mention the dozens of Zenshin members Sasuke had tossed into a dimension two days ago, telling them to begin their walk northeast for about thirty kilometers where they would find a stash of supplies Sasuke kept there to sustain them while they waited for his return. He hadn’t bothered to explain that if they weren’t at the designated spot, where the dimension spaces crossed with the Leaf Village, they would eventually die in that dimension. At the time, he hadn’t quite cared what happened to them in there, and he selfishly hadn’t spared them another thought sense. Sasuke supposed that it was a tiny reason to speed things along so he didn’t have any unnecessary victims, even if they did deserve it, at the very least, for not being able to follow simple instructions. He just didn’t want to have to explain it to Sakura.

And the next thing Sasuke knew, Katsuyu was being summoned and Sasuke was resigned to a slimy fate of the inching human-sized slug as it ascended his body. And that pink-haired woman of his had the absolute audacity to declare teasingly with a grin, “It would be easier if you were laying down,” but he only glared at her with his most severe displeasure, not having the time to respond or even scoff before the damn thing had consumed his face entirely. And as Sasuke was encapsulated in a bath of mucus, water, and salt—yes, it somehow got in his fucking mouth (probably when he lifted his lip to sneer at Sakura’s black-streaked cheeks and sadistic expression)—he realized with a newfound appreciation how endearing Aoda seemed in comparison. That was indeed one beautiful snake.

And within moments, Sasuke found himself on his back, eyes projected toward a tree canopy so dense, the light struggled to penetrate below, creating a blue-green cast that darkened the forest around him. Travelling from the aphotic void of the underground sanctuary of seconds ago to the ear-piercing hum of the insect and amphibian infested jungle of a forest, left Sasuke feeling deafened by the abrasive cacophony. In a satirical form of irony, Sasuke suddenly wasn’t so opposed to the slug form currently detaching itself from his face and ears. Katsuyu, the source and embodiment of healing itself, even left the Uchiha feeling more restored than before which made Sasuke just the tiniest bit sorry for his initial disgust towards the creature. He bit back his urge to say something in condolence to the beast who had no initial indication of his discomfort to begin with, so Sasuke bit his lip, feeling all sorts of confused feelings in that moment.

“Sasuke,” the slug spoke to him in her singsong of a voice, “Milady will be present shortly, appearing where my main body is two miles north of here. She asked me to deposit you here to help corral a man back to the central location. He has wandered to this location.”

Sasuke instantly frowned at the slug’s words. He supposed some silent conversation had happened between Katsuyu and Sakura in the minute it took to transport him. That, or this was some clever way to distract Sasuke while she took advantage of the distance he still had to traverse. Hadn’t the kunoichi just told him that the Shikottsu Forest was a hazard maze? Well, she obviously had more faith in his abilities than she had let on when discussing option three, the annoying tease.

Sasuke took in his surroundings more carefully, trees taller than the Hokage Monument towering to the sky as vines thicker than Aoda twisted up and around them. It made the forest where the Chunin Exams were held almost miniature in scale. Sasuke supposed it made sense that beasts of gargantuan size such as the three Sanin summons to have come from even larger habitats, environmental determinism and all that.

A thick fog hovered above the ground, and Sasuke stood and leaned his head up to view the treetops above, breathing in as he activated his ocular jutsu, the tomoes spinning into both red and purple eyes. With his dual dojutsu, Sasuke surveyed the area more closely, peering beyond the fog blanketed trees in front of him, where the treacherous swamp and pools of bubbling black acid threatened to pull him into a fiery oblivion like the siren call of an eternally burning river in hell. Sakura had been right to warn him of this place; she had personally encountered Kaguya’s acid-sea dimension, after all. Acid didn’t stop burning until it could be scrubbed from the skin. Falling in a lagoon of it would be the absolute worst of deaths. Sasuke moved forward, toward the chakra network and watery outline of the soul he was supposedly sent to retrieve. Approximately fifty meters beyond the trees in his immediate vision, Sasuke analytically watched the flickering figure before him, their heartbeat speedily beating as they stood erect, still, and unmoving.

Sighing, Sasuke moved toward the individual, slowly and silently, contemplating what exactly Sakura had expected him to do. It was indeed perilous, to navigate the small path that winded between acid reservoirs, and Sasuke’s footfalls were near silent as he proceeded with slow and deliberate caution. The physical form of Sasuke’s fixation materialized from the mist, a man who stood before one of the black, endless, gurgling acid ponds. The stranger’s back was turned to Sasuke and, unexpectedly, the man’s head tilted in Sasuke’s direction as he detected the Uchiha’s approaching presence. Sasuke raised an eyebrow privately at the man’s perceptiveness despite Sasuke’s silent footfalls. He had to be a ninja, then, without a shadow of a doubt, if he was able to sense him.

Sasuke took in the man’s appearance more carefully: tall, dark hair, a tailor-fitted suit as if he were some sort of mobster instead of a ninja. Of course, that suit now displayed various tears and holes, the wearable evidence of days in the Shikkotsu Forest. Was he missing a shoe?

“Reaper?” came his voice next, a resigned, melancholic breathlessness as if he were talking to himself rather than acknowledging Sasuke’s presence.

Sasuke was getting that sort of association a lot lately. If the world continued to sense him as such before they even knew him, was he honestly doing a well enough job redeeming himself? He shook the thought away.

“But I haven’t done it yet,” the man whispered again, just before toeing the pool of acid with is remaining shoed foot. He screamed instantly when the acid ate through the leather of his sole and found his toes. He bent, ripping the melting shoe away. Well, that explained the first shoe, then, Sasuke assessed. And then Sasuke’s gut was sinking as the man straightened his back, finding the resolve to do it again, and the entire situation started to make a lot more sense to him. Just exactly why Sakura had sent Sasuke to retrieve him. The slug had known what the man was planning, what was about to happen.

The man was going to jump—all in, at once. He bent, sucking in a loud breath as if he were about to dive. And then propelled his body into the air. And Sasuke’s Rinnegan was activating before he could even register his choices. And within seconds, Sasuke’s body had replaced the man with himself feet above the black abyss of acid, and now he was on the planned trajectory of the consequences of this man’s suicide attempt. And before Sasuke could even question whether or not a ninja might be able to direct chakra and walk along the surface of acid like they did water, the Eternal Mangekyo of his right eye was spinning, and the skeletal arms of his imperfect Susanoo shot out and braced their hands on either side of the acid pond. Sasuke sneered in the man’s direction after he righted himself and stepped down onto the bank and stalked back toward the man who now lay sprawled where Sasuke had just been standing seconds before.

The giant fist of the Susanoo shot outward, collecting the man into its glowing grip, the blazing yellow eyes of the Susanoo’s face inches from his own.

The man cried out in surprise, probably believing that he had indeed fallen into the realm that came after death. But his next words gave Sasuke pause. “Who’s there?” Despite the man’s initial fear, Sasuke suddenly realized that he wasn’t seeing the Susanoo at all. He felt the grip that held him, the crushing digits of the chakra-controlled entity, but he cast his wide eyes about as if not sure where he should be looking.

And then Sasuke saw it. The dirty bandage-wrapping that had fallen from his eyes at some point to rest around his neck like a prophetic noose. Because the man had been correct. It was the Reaper that had found him. Sasuke was going to finish the man himself because recognition hit the Uchiha in full force. He had seen this ninja before in the memories of that girl at the brothel. Before him was the ninja who had pulled Sakura into his lap and touched her black-dyed hair as if she had been his to do so. Rugo. That was the name Sakura had relayed to him over a campfire in a cave, and Sasuke had let the name sear a hole into his memory the same way the flames of that fire burned into his vision. He would never forget it.

“You were right the first time,” Sasuke smirked, gladly becoming that deathbringer of his fear, the darkness in the Uchiha like an incurable itch that he sometimes craved to scratch. Even though it was when he indulged himself, that he got into trouble, Sasuke still couldn’t resist the urge when it came to defending his friends.

“Uchiha,” Rugo breathed, more solid but still another fearful recognition coming from his lips. “You might as well be.” He grunted as the Susanoo’s fingers tightened as if they were Sasuke’s own.

“That’s right.” Sasuke confirmed, that characteristic drawl he used with his enemies coming back full force out of Sakura’s company. “You should have been faster. There’s nothing that burns like the black flames of Amaterasu. It doesn’t stop burning until there’s nothing left. The acid would have been a mercy in comparison.”

A steely calm came over Rugo’s face and Sasuke didn’t quite care for it. “I don’t know where she is. I had found her. Begged her to help me. And the next thing I knew, I woke up in this godforsaken place with those bastards for company.”

Sasuke registered his words with that signature “hn,” of acknowledgement, but nothing more. But internally, Sasuke was at war with himself. This was one of the men who had touched her. Sakura, his Team 7 teammate. And now she was more than that; she was his. This bastard had touched his fucking wife. The scene of that girls’ memories played over and over in his mind like his own personal hell of Sharingan genjutsu. But all he could hear was her. Those convicting words of her letter playing in his skull, still tucked against his chest as if it could be the second heart to operate and stand in place for his blackened one: ‘remember who you are.’ Damn, he really wasn’t trying hard enough honor his promise to himself, was he? Quite frankly, Sasuke didn’t want to. But Sakura’s order through the memory of mud and rain pounded in his ears as she yelled: “This isn’t who you are anymore! You can be merciful!” A declaration of weight whispered in a cave between bent heads came to him next: “You’re not a monster. Naruto and I will not let you be a monster.”

Sakura had sent him here. Knowing everything she did, the woman he loved still believed it was going to be Sasuke who would be the best between the two of them to retrieve this man. And he was suddenly very annoyed with her unwavering faith in him because it suddenly made Sasuke feel like he had to be worth that faith. Damn slug should have just left the issue—let the man do as he pleased.

Aw, fuck. Fine.

Sasuke sneered as he dropped the man to the ground before him, his Susanoo of chakra retreating back into the essence of him. The man scrambled to his knees and Sasuke turned and began to walk off before he changed his mind. “You’re very fortunate that the woman you speak of spared your life,” he drawled. “It’s the only reason I do now.” And after the wide eyed, unseeing man blanched, Sasuke added: “But by all means—don’t let me get in the way of what you were doing.”

The man nodded once, that serious, resolved expression returning to his ashen face.

But even as Sasuke put distance between them, his feet slowed when Rugo’s voice carried after him. “You’ve found her then. It’s the only way you would know how we got here. That’s good.”

Just keep walking, Sasuke told himself. Let the man do as he wished. He would tell Sakura that he hadn’t killed the man, at the very least. And what else could she honestly have expected of him? What was he supposed to do? Talk to him? She was delusional. Grab the stranger by the collar of his suit and corral him back toward her, the last person he wanted within a mile of her? Hmph. Unlikely.

“It must be wonderful,” Rugo exclaimed as he found a tree to lean back against. “To look at her. To watch that mouth and that hair.” The man let out a small groan. “I can only imagine it. She was the last woman I ever laid my eyes on. Not a bad view, for the last thing to see.”

Sasuke closed his eyes as the manipulative declaration designed to ensnare his rage hit his ears. And his feet came to an abrupt halt. He counted to three before he spoke next. “You really do have a death wish, don’t you?” Fucking bastard, testing his fragile resolve.

“You’re a fool to let her do what she did,” Rugo announced, and Sasuke wondered where all of a sudden, he found the fucking nerve. Probably was trying to get the Uchiha to run him through with his katana or burn him alive with unrelenting flame. “Now, Mozai will do more than just kill her. He’s vengeful, and he will make her pay for what she’s done personally. She’s done nothing but paint a bigger target on her back. And you let her.”

Sasuke had never been so tempted to laugh. As if he could stop that woman from doing anything she set her mind to. The two of them were alike in that way. “And if he ever dares to come close enough, he’ll see her back for himself and learn exactly who she is now and who he dares to fuck with.” Because Sakura Haruno was an Uchiha now, and he would soon show the world that. She would wear his crest. Their symbol. He had already decided it, but it was without question now. He would beg her if he had to.

Rugo laughed, and Sasuke turned to see him bend forward over his knees. “It won’t be enough.”

“Then tell me how to find him,” Sasuke drawled again. “I’ll kill him right after I’m done killing you.”

“I don’t know where he is. He could be anywhere. He is never in the same place, always moving.”

“There’s not a corner in this world where I have not been,” Sasuke told him. “I’ll find him soon.”

“That’s a relief. Good riddance.”

And Sasuke was a little curious to know why this man was even with them if he expressed hate for the leader. Rugo had said something about begging Sakura to help him? And Sasuke eyes flickered back toward the man’s bandages as Sasuke made the connections. He was blind. He was able to recognize Sakura in a brothel despite being so. She had been the last person he had seen before blindness… The war, then, Sasuke concluded. Rugo had been injured in the shinobi war.

“Is that why you’re set on killing yourself then?” Sasuke asked after a second of indecision. He was in the limbo of not caring, and being mildly curious simply because Sakura had been involved in some way. His interest was more along the lines of knowing one’s enemy and their motivations. “Because you lost your vision?” Sasuke scoffed cruelly.

“You couldn’t possibly understand, so don’t pretend that you do,” came Rugo’s angry accusation. “You’ve been blessed with the visual prowess of gods. You get to see the people you love.”

Sasuke sighed. He really wanted to just walk away, but for some reason, Sakura was always involving him with people who needed some sort of reality check. Sasuke wasn’t Naruto, but damn if he didn’t always end up in situations where he knew exactly what that idiot might say to these men. Something about joining him on his journey to bring peace to the shinobi world as if he were some sort of Saint to be followed. And hell, it had worked on Sasuke and many more, hadn’t it? Sasuke sighed in decided annoyance. Sasuke wasn’t inherently good like Naruto, but he had learned a few things over the last few years to draw upon for this speech. Especially in the last few months.

“I would give it up in an instant,” Sasuke told the blind man. “These eyes are a curse. They come with power and responsibility. If I could trade them for the life of peace that you could have, I would switch places with you this very second. Even with my vison intact, I soon won’t see get to see the people I care about most for a very long time. But if I were you, I could still hear her. Touch her. Not a second spent, would I miss these eyes and the mission that comes with them.”

And how true it all was. Because Sasuke had been literally blinded for a year after the war as he sat in a prison cell in Konoha with his eyes sealed and covered. But as he looked back on it now, it had been such a peaceful year, knowing that it was all out of his control and it was alright to do absolutely nothing for a year. And then she came. Every day, without fail. Just as his friend had attended his bedside in their youth, Sakura had come to visit him. She was only allowed forty minutes to check on him as a physician, and they didn’t talk much at first. But damn, if it didn’t quickly become the forty minutes of every day that he looked forward to. Now, he realized it might have been the only thing to carry his sanity out of that endless darkness.

If he were blind like Rugo, then maybe he could be present. His lack of power would make it so. The job of hunting down the Otsusuki race would fall onto someone else’s shoulders. And in exchange, maybe Sasuke could be there every day. Wake beside her every day. Touch, taste, fuck, and hear her tell him that she loved him over and over. Have children with her. Hold their tiny bodies against his chest as he whispered his own declaration of love to them. Every. Day. Even if he had to tolerate Naruto’s nonsense daily for the rest of his life, it would be worth it. He would be the better man, and leave the fallen Sasuke behind.

“Get up. Come to the Leaf. Live a simple life. And if you must be ambitious, fight with us to create a world of peace for the next generation.”

And as Rugo’s sightless eyes filled with tears, Sasuke felt a little more like Naruto. Because he meant those words.

“Took you long enough,” one of the men spat in Sakura’s direction as she stared down the twenty-seven individuals who were now looking back at her as an enemy; there was a narrowing of the eyes, a hesitation in their shoulders, and the erratic exchanging of nervous looks, that was not displayed back at the brothel when they merely thought she was an instrument of sex. In the span of a few days, she had taught them the mistake of underestimating someone.

They were gathered around a campfire, cooking some poor scrap of a thing they had managed to catch in these woods. They should consider themselves lucky that they hadn’t become the meals themselves here. If not for Katsuyu’s looming gargantuan presence nearby that warded away other predators, they undoubtedly would be. Many of them appeared haggard around the firelight and the dense tree coverage combined with the dimming sky already gave the appearance of night. Owls of monstrous size hooted in the distance, already eager for the night and the prey it would bring them. The members of Zenshin, in contrast, did not seem as keen. They sat huddled together as if in perpetual watch for whatever beast might pay them a visit tonight.

“I’m sorry,” Sakura smiled brightly despite their stabbing glares, “afraid of the dark, are we?”

There were murmurs of varying degrees of bitterness and disbelief. There were even some choice words Sakura ignored completely as she moved into their company. They were like wolves, snapping and growling as she got near them, and like wolves, a few of them decided to charge her.

The first man, the loudmouth of the group whose person Sakura had originally aimed for first back at the brothel, and then used his identity to fool his friends later, boldly sprinted in her direction. With murderous, bloodshot eyes and a gaping mouth, he brought his open hands together at the thumbs as if he meant to choke her, but Sakura quickly remedied his mistake. Her foot shot out, her monstrous strength sending him hurtling into the gigantic tree in their immediate proximity. There was a crunch and a splintering of wood, and Sakura felt more sorry for the tree than the man who would walk away fine after she healed him. Sakura couldn’t say the same for the poor, hollowed out tree. She winced, already prepared to apologize to Katsuyu for the violation of the sacred forest.

“Araki!” came a feminine screech as the man slid down from the tree like one of Katsuyu’s many slug divisions, and he crashed to the forest floor with a groan. Recognizing the voice who had called out to him, Sakura quickly identified the white-haired, Boil Release Kekkei Genkai ninja whom Sakura had battled with days ago. She stood from where she was sitting among the men next to the fire and she pointed an accusing finger at Sakura as she screamed, “You bitch! That wasn’t necessary!”

“Hello, again,” Sakura waved and the girl growled as she fisted both her palms with radiating fury. “Mind if I sit?” Sakura asked unbothered, before coming as close as she dared to the group, a body’s space away from the fire and sat crisscross as a large scroll materialized with a poof in the palm of her hand. She unfurled it, a white, encrypted document that served as a dividing line between them.

Staring back at their blank, confused expressions, Sakura got straight to the point. “This is the warrant for your individual arrests by both Sunagakure and Konoha as declared, signed, and sealed by the Fifth Kazekage and Seventh Hokage respectively. Each of you will receive a minimum of ten years in either correctional facility on the account of trespassing, kidnapping, attempted murder, or at the very least, illegal engagement in sexual acts for compensation.”

As she spoke, the outrage grew loud again but it fell on deaf ears as Sakura continued to read the document.

“However,” Sakura added with the snapping of the scroll as it tightly retracted back into form. “You will be given the choice of where to serve your sentences.”

The outrage quickly grew to silence as Sakura modified the original, documented warrant with her own condition.

“You can serve your various sentences back in Sunagakure, where the Kazekage eagerly awaits you. While serving your sentence, you will become potential new test subjects for the Kazekage’s new Mental Health clinic, and simultaneously perform excavation indentures to further create the sand dungeons you’ll be staying in.”

Their faces paled, so Sakura informed them of their second choice. “Or, you may return with me to Konoha where you’ll quickly be enrolled in the Mental Health clinic already established, perform community service, and also qualify for parole based on good behavior and reform. Those are your two options.”

And of course, there was always that wise guy who had to add: “And what makes you think we will go willingly to either?”

“You see,” Sakura smiled again, leaning back on her arms as if she were content to rest there. As if it were just another night around the warm campfire for Team 7 as they traveled for a mission. She gestured to the buzzing forest around them that grew darker by the minute. “Coming with me will be the only way to leave this place. You’re more than welcome to stay here and try to find your way out on your own. But I wouldn’t recommend it.”

They carefully considered her words after that. They exchanged petrified glances and shook their heads at one another.

“Perfect,” Sakura clapped her hands together in artificial delight, retrieving a separate scroll from thin air and an ink brush followed after, plopping onto the ground as it was summoned. Sakura unfurled this one too, a red blank document that she instantly divided down the center with the following two headings: “Konoha” and “Sunagakure.” She glanced over their shoulders to regard Araki first, who still lay unconscious in front of the tree he had been hurled ungracefully in to. She wrote down his name first and said to herself: “Araki, Konoha.”

“You can’t choose for him!” seethed the white-haired female who had returned to a seated position at some point, but still stared into Sakura’s person as if she could boil her alive just from staring at her. Sakura made a mental note to stay out of touching distance from her. This girl didn’t seem the type to retain information from the lessons others taught her.

“I can,” Sakura responded, “because he is going to need medical attention and will need to come with me in order to do that. Should I mark him under ‘Sunagakure,’ instead? If he lives from that, you can explain why you made that decision for him.”

The girl didn’t respond and so Sakura left it. “Ok then. Who else chooses Konoha?” There was a hesitation at first as no hands were raised. But a motion in the back caught Sakura’s attention. Not looking at her directly, a man sporting a familiar red, hooded cloak raised one of his mutilated and scarred hands. Sakura winced as she recognized the man who had attacked her, groping at her body before Sasuke ignited him with black flames.“Remember that I spared your life,” she had said to this man after interfering in Sasuke’s torture-attempt, and Sakura didn’t know if he raised his hand now because he felt indebted to her, needed further medical attention for his hands, or something else. But it didn’t matter, because like the first rain drop before the torrent of many, his hand was followed by the others.

Sakura placed a fake frown on her lips despite her internal relief. “Not a single person wants to attend Sunagakure? Gaara is going to be so disappointed.” And Kakashi, she thought to herself, when he realized he was about to gain twenty-seven new fugitives to care for. She could already imagine the Hokage’s slack jawed surprise when she showed up with them tomorrow.

Not a single voice responded, and Sakura grinned as she stood and dusted the forest floor from Sasuke’s oversized slacks. “Well, that’s settled then. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

“Morning?!” someone called out. “Why not now, before the sun sets?”

Sakura looked around as if she had only just noticed it was growing dark. The crickets of nighttime began to chirp, large amphibians exchanged mating calls, and some growling beast began its nightly prowl with a roar in the distance. “I think one more night will be good for you.” Just to remind them of their choices.

And with impeccable timing, something he always managed to seem to have, Sasuke emerged from the woods behind her. His red and purple eyes seemed to glow from the shadows as if he, too, were some nocturnal beast of the Shikkotsu Forest come to pay them a visit. He stalked forward like a panther until he stood beside her. Those who might have had anything to say grew wide-eyed and gasped at his arrival, not coming to recognize him even as he stared each of them down. His gaze flickered to the red-cloaked individual in the back whose hands he had decimated, and his eyes seemed to rest on him longer than the others.

“Did you find him?” Sakura asked the Uchiha and his eyes reluctantly slid to hers in the darkening woods. He dipped his chin in a silent nod before gesturing behind him with a tilt of his head. Slowly, as if moving at a much slower space, Rugo stepped out of the trees behind them. At his appearance, the voices around the campfire picked up once again and they mocked, belittling the man who had made promises of walking into the woods and not returning. One man even went as far as saying, “Should have been a man and gone through with it, Rugo. Mozai will kill you anyway—” but he stopped midsentence and began screaming. The rest of the group panicked, scattering like cockroaches away from the individual, trying to identify the source of his torment.

But as Sakura glance to her left and saw Sasuke’s Sharingan, she knew instantly that it was him, taking it upon himself to silence the man with a torturous genjutsu. After the screaming continued for longer than what made her comfortable, Sakura sent a pointed look to her teammate. The shrieking died after that, but Sasuke added for good measure, “Be quiet. All of you—before you piss me off.”

Rugo didn’t stop until he came within a few feet of Sakura, and even though she knew he couldn’t see her, he stopped and stared at her as if he could, as if by sheer will alone, he might be able to. Sakura held his unseeing eyes as she chewed her lip in thought about how she might be able to help him through this more, before he silently turned and headed back toward the fire, sitting alone and far away from the group. He looked morose, haggard, and was he barefoot?

“I’ll be right back,” she informed Sasuke who turned to follow her anyway. She thought of asking him to stay behind and keep watch over the group, but she thought better of it. She had informed them of their options. They were free to make a run for it…if they dared to.

“Where are you going?” came Sasuke’s peeved, clipped question once they were out of earshot. She rolled her eyes even as her medical mind whirred and calculated. Despite the gloom and perilous nature of The Shikkotsu Forest, it was also a goldmine, a plethora of hard-to-obtain plants and fauna that made Sakura’s eyes sparkle in delight. Now, some of these things were rather tricky to get your hands on, but it made them all the more tempting.

H. Perforatum, for example, a yellow-flowering shrub that grew tangled at the base of large trees, was highly sought after for its medical properties; Shikkotsu Forest supposedly had it in abundance but no one dared to face the Shikkotsu Forest just to get their hands on it. Unfortunately, the trees here also often oozed toxic, milky-white sap that blistered the skin on contact, which would make the extraction complicated. But Sakura didn’t tell Sasuke that as she circled several bushes like one of Kakashi’s scent hounds on the trail.

“I’m looking for a plant known to help with depression. I’d like to offer it to Rugo and see if it can be help to him.”

She didn’t see Sasuke’s blink of surprise, but she felt it in his silence. She knew he didn’t care enough about it to ask further. At least until she snatched her hand away from a tree just in time before a sizzling dewdrop of white fluid fell from a branch, narrowly missing her fingers. Sasuke frowned at her and she smiled innocently while moving on to the next tree.

“Leave it,” Sasuke said as he peered up at the trees with a newfound trepidation. “He’s fine now.”

But Sakura discounted his words, plowing on until she saw it: the blue-green leaves and the bright starshaped, yellow flower clusters that Sakura had been desperate to get her hands on since she formulated the plan of coming here. It would be revolutionary in its use with her Mental Health clinics. And as she bent to pluck them greedily, she glanced above her head to watch for falling sap, but was surprised to find the purple hand of Sasuke’s Susanoo stretched above her. He stood cross-armed and aloof beside her, acting as if he had little regard for her tasks, but Sakura smiled to herself as the arm of charka reached out from his body with the intent to protect her from searing drops overhead. Seeing him do so reminded her of simpler times during their Genin youth, when Sasuke’s attitude was abrasive, but his actions always spoke his true feelings.

“Was it his permanent vision loss that made him want to do it?” Sakura inquired as she loaded the pockets of Sasuke’s oversized pants with yellow flora. Katsuyu told me he was in danger of himself, and I couldn’t think of why else.” There were millions of Katsuyu divisions spread through the forest, keeping tabs on all of Sakura’s charges, and the slug who had come to transport Sasuke to Shikkotsu had told her of the situation after Sasuke had been swallowed.

“Hn.” Sasuke acknowledged as she shifted beside her and she nodded, understanding that Sasuke might not give any more details than that. Sakura wasn’t exactly sure what to expect from sending Sasuke, but she had hoped he would be able to handle the situation better than she might even though it was her expertise. Maybe it was an instinct, knowing that Sasuke might be the right person to talk to someone who had lost his vision. He had been able to convince him somehow, and for that she was grateful.

Sasuke surprised her again when he spoke lowly. “I’ve told him to come to the Leaf and he agreed.”

“They’ll all be coming to the Leaf,” she informed him, popping one of the yellow flowers into her mouth, tucking it into the inside of her cheek to ruminate. It was both simultaneously bitter and pleasant; sort of like drinking Black Tea. It would be better brewed like a tea, but chewing would have to suffice for now.

Sasuke raised an eyebrow at her words. “And we’ll be taking the slug express back to Konoha, how, again, if you’re here? You left that part out.”

“Lady Tsunade is waiting for the signal. She’ll perform the summoning that will take us all back to the Leaf.”

“Hmph,” he smirked, not being able to hide his regard for her ability to thoroughly plan something out to this extent in the span of twenty-four hours.

Sakura may have been a medic, but she was a ninja first. She wasn’t a mastermind strategist like Shikamaru, but she could hold a candle to many team leaders of her generation. A small pang of regret filled Sakura’s chest at the thought. She would never have a rookie team of her own to lead because she had dedicated her life to medical science.

Knowing that she wouldn’t get the chance once they returned to the watching eyes and glaring scowls of their group, Sakura daringly stood up on her tiptoes and kissed an unexpecting Sasuke chastely on the cheek, before turning to return to the campsite. At his reddening expression and clearing of his throat, Sakura smiled innocently, those hands coming to rest behind her back as she leaned forward and tilted her head, a habit leftover from girlish youth. And maybe she was interpreting things, but the Susanoo didn’t disappear from above her head until they were well away from the deadly trees, and to Sakura, it was all she needed in return to know that Sasuke was expressing his own form of love back.

In the dead of night, when the detainees had all passed into sleep, Sasuke kept his eyes trained on them, making sure that their heartbeats and cadence of breath signified genuine sleep. To his surprise, it seemed no one had any indication or plans to run. Not that he cared in particular, but it still didn’t ease his uncertainty. He wondered what Sakura had offered them to get them to go along with their sentencing. Regardless of their snoring and dream-filled twitching—which could easily alert prey to their presence; he didn’t know how they could even sleep knowing where they were—Sasuke didn’t trust them. Despite Sakura’s assurances, Sasuke still watched them as if he were the predator of their fears. Maybe that’s why they slept so soundly, knowing Sasuke was there to keep watch over them. Maybe it gave them some sort of security knowing that the man who protected the ambitions of their target-turned-jailer was there to ensure everything went according to the kunoichi’s design. Maybe, subconsciously, they knew Sakura cared about what happened to them at the very least, and as a result Sasuke was forced to as well. Perhaps it was the same factor that made them all choose to return to Konoha with her.

From a non-poisonous, outstretched branch, Sasuke watched two interactions initiated by Sakura on the ground below him. First, and expected, Sakura sought out Rugo, offering him the yellow flowers, explaining in whispers how to get the most out of the medicinal properties it offered. Saskue narrowed his eyes at the man, whom Sasuke still didn’t quite care for, as Sakura crouched before him and placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. He couldn’t hear her or read her lips with his Sharingan because her back was turned to him, but Sasuke saw that Rugo only nodded in response to everything she said and asked and kept his respectable distance. Smart choice on his part with Sasuke present.

Her second stop in the crowd below, however, had Sasuke leaning forward, his right eye glowing red as he made out the conversation below.

“Toka,” Sakura was saying, cross-armed as she stared down at the man who was reclined against a tree toward the back of the crowd. Sasuke recalled the stranger’s identity when she said his name, recalling the visions of the man clinging to the girl Sasuke had stolen the vision from. “We need to discuss something.”

“I don’t plan on discussing anything with you,” he sneered back at her, rolling his head back to the side to pretend to sleep against the tree roots.

“Tabi is pregnant,” Sakura deadpanned, and Sasuke could tell by her posture that she had adopted the professional voice of the physician. Toka’s eyes shot open with disbelief and his mouth went slack. Even Sasuke’s stomach dropped a bit at the abrasive announcement, suddenly feeling more empathy about the situation considering the context of his and Sakura’s conversation last night. No man would want to learn of his partner’s pregnancy right before facing a prison sentence.

When Toka recovered from the shock, he glanced nervously around at the others to see if anyone might have heard them. Sasuke could barely discern the furious whisper on Toka’s lips in response: “Why the fuck would you say that out loud in front of these people? You don’t understand the gravity of what you could have just done.”

“Does this mean you care about them, then? About Tabi and the baby?” she probed, unphased by his alarm. Sasuke wondered if Sakura did exactly what had triggered him just to assess his reaction.

“Why does it matter to you?” he asked angrily in a murmur, still trying to keep his words private between them.

Sakura turned her head in Sasuke’s direction unconsciously, and Sasuke’s eyes met hers, and she instantly looked away having realized what she’d done. And Sasuke frowned, because suddenly the conversation between his pink-haired teammate and the man sitting before her took on a new and uncomfortable context. Sasuke suddenly felt as if this were a personal topic for Sakura and she was asking from experience. As if she was hoping Toka would say yes, that he didcare. That he would do anything to go back to the mother of his child and make their family whole. To stop his foolish conquests and ambitions and be the man they needed him to be. Sasuke felt himself go rigid as he waited for Sakura’s response.

“Because Tabi told me you were different. I’m hoping that’s true.”

“I would only bring them heartbreak and pain. They’re better off without me.” Sasuke winced as the words that could have been his own landed directly as a blow to his chest.

And then Sasuke knew. He knew Toka was not the only intended recipient for her next words. “They’ll be in more pain to know you had a choice and your choice wasn’t them. All because you thought you knew best. Because you thought you didn’t deserve them.” It may have been Toka’s first time hearing such words, but for Sasuke, it was another echoing reminder.

He only stared at Sakura’s feet, and so she said, “I thought it might change your decision to come to Konoha. I’ve said that I won’t stop anyone from running if they want to risk the forest. Someone with a family waiting for them on the other side might just be brave enough to make it.” There was no response as she walked away from him, surveying the group one last time before making her way to the teammate she knew observed her every step from above.

And when she came to settle in the treetop beside him, Sasuke couldn’t meet her eye. For the longest minute of his life, he held his breath as her gaze settled on to him. Slowly and with fearful anticipation, Sasuke glanced at her to find that Sakura had merely propped her back against the trunk where the branch met the tree and had closed her eyes to sleep. Sasuke wanted to reach for her, tug her against his chest as he had last night in a different environment of darkness. He wanted to tell her that he was sorry. To tell her that she was his choice because he was hers. But a family…it couldn’t be his choice right now. Not when he knew what was coming for them. Sasuke’s choice would always have to be his mission, but he prayed to whatever sentient being looked down on them, that he would find the Otsusuki race, eradicate them quickly, and get back to his life with his wife.

Sasuke stared openly at her as she slept and he knew her decision to do so was to not force an uncomfortable conversation on him in the moment. Not after the trauma of the day. Not after witnessing a man attempt suicide and the conversation that followed, or from overhearing her discussion about families and choices with Toka. The day had been full of discomfort, and Sakura understood the Uchiha enough to know that now was not the time to have another. It was an indescribable mercy. And why she made a damn good doctor and rising therapist.

And with this realization, Sasuke wondered when, in Sakura’s eyes, he had become like a patient with his own mental health needs as well. When did she start seeing him as someone who needed to heal instead of someone she needed to heal from?

And Sasuke thought back to pools of acid and black flames that never stopped burning. And he thought of Sakura, the star in the sky of his darkness who still eternally burned for him despite everything. And Sasuke wondered when exactly he had started to answer that burn with a fire of his own. Even if he were galaxies away, he would burn eternally for her, like the black flames of Amaterasu.

#ssfanfiction #approachingsun #naruto fanfiction #sakura hiden #sakura haruno #sakura uchiha #naruto shippuden #approaching sun #naruto #sasusaku #sasusakufanfiction

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starlit-hopes-and-dreams · 15 days ago

Text

Chapter 30 ~ The shift

Hidden Depths

Previous ~ Masterlist ~ Next

Also on ao3

Genre: Fantasy whump

CW's: none

WC: 3749

Taglist: @dont-touch-my-soup, @kixngiggles

In which Resh makes plans for the future, and Carr is still dealing with some stuff

AN: Whelp. I thought this would be the end, but I did in fact end up needing to split the chapter, so instead, enjoy some more angst because I just can't stop, apparently, and there'll be one more chapter to follow, which I have written and can thus assure you that it will indeed be the last chapter this time. *takes a deep breath*

I was going to wait until next week to post since I missed my time yesterday, but y'know what? I don't feel like it, so enjoy!

Resh

Carr was right. His little admission had changed everything.

In the best way.

Well, eventually in the best way.

Moving toward the best way. But he was optimistic.

The first few weeks after their talk had been awkward as fuck. Resh had spent them terrified she’d change her mind, since she seemed to waffle between fighting some internal battle and being okay with the newly defined state of their… relationship? He was still hesitant to call it anything like that. Maybe he’d stick with very good friendship.

As time passed, though, she seemed to have more moments where she was comfortable with what was between them than not. She still hadn’t moved out of the room he’d been given, even though the times he woke up confused were less and less.

That, more than anything, gave him hope that her trust in him would override whatever past experiences were driving her fear.

A knock sounded at the door to his room, interrupting his musings, and Resh rose from the chair he’d been sitting in to answer it. The ease with which he moved was still new enough to marvel at; turned out eating and sleeping well did wonders for the body. Sleeping in the same location and having Carr there when he woke did wonders for his mind.

Salma gave him a sunny smile when he opened the door, bustling inside at his invitation. “Morning, Resh. Where’s Carr?”

He considered what he’d been taught so far of the common hand signs, decided they weren’t sufficient to answer, and instead retrieved his notebook to scrawl out his reply. In the shower. Again. She loves that thing.

Salma laughed. “I’m happy to hear that. Are you ready?”

He nodded, then held up a finger. One moment. After he told Carr he was going out, he grabbed his gloves before following Salma down the stairs and out of the manor.

The square was quite busy today, he found. They had to dodge people left and right as they headed straight through, passing merchants with pop-up stalls hawking wares and baked goods.

“Fall festival,” Salma said when he arched his eyebrows in question. “It’ll be busy all week. Speaking of,”–she paused to greet a child who stopped to show her a pretty bauble–“remind me later that there’s something I wanted to ask you.”

He followed her past the ring of businesses outlining the town’s square into the residential area, wondering what she could possibly need from him, of all people.

But he forgot all about it when they stopped outside a two-story house at the end of one of the cobbled streets. The exterior was a mix of wood and mica-flecked stone, and there was a porch with a swing, and a fenced, landscaped yard, and… oh, it was wonderful.

The steps creaked a bit as he ascended, which he took mental note of. But the paneled door swung open smoothly, and when he bent down to check, he found it fit perfectly to its frame as he closed it behind Salma.

“We’ll be here all day if you’re planning on inspecting every aspect of the house that thoroughly,” Salma said, teasing him lightly.

Resh gave her a sheepish grin as he straightened up from his crouch.

The sun streamed in from the house’s many glass-paned windows, illuminating the way quite well as they toured the rooms. Resh was pleased to find the wood paneling was consistent throughout. The only white was on the ceiling, and thick wooden beams crisscrossed that. He wouldn’t stay confused for long if he woke up from a nightmare in this place.

There were four bedrooms, two on the ground floor and two upstairs, which was more than he strictly needed, but he’d like for Carr to have her own space. As for the other, well, they’d find something to do with it.

The main level had multiple separate living spaces, so they wouldn’t be stepping all over each other but could still come together if they wanted. There was even an additional living space upstairs, which Resh thought might make a nice private escape for Orla as she got older.

He was grinning from ear to ear when they finished their walkthrough.

“I take it you like?” Salma asked.

Resh nodded, then held up his notebook. I think the shower might sell it for Carr.

Salma laughed. “Yes, the former owner contracted the Architect class mage we had brought in to update the manor. Many others followed in her footsteps, though not all. I think this is the only mage-updated house that’s vacant, currently. And I don’t expect it will stay that way for long.”

Resh nodded, then wrote out a reply. I don’t expect so either, since I want it. I’d like to show Carr and Orla before it’s official though, if that’s alright?

“Of course,” Salma said. “You could always take them out to the festival later and swing by after. As a surprise,” she added with a sly smile.

He returned her smile; it was a good idea.

Moving back into the kitchen, he ran his fingers over the carvings on the table, admiring the craftsmanship. Memories from his woodworking apprenticeship rose, and he sighed. He wasn’t sure he could see himself returning to the trade, committing himself to the years of training he’d missed out on.

He had more experience with being a merchant at this point, but there was no way he could sustain the travel a merchant typically did, not right now anyway. The crown’s money, returned to them through Adan and Salma’s generosity, would tide them over for a few years even after purchasing this house, but eventually, he’d need to decide on a trade. Maybe by then the memories of his treatment at the prince’s hands would be… less fresh.

Wondering about his future reminded him that Salma had wanted to ask him something. He waved for her attention as she walked by the kitchen, then used the sign for question before pointing to himself. “Question for me?”

It was a crude use of the little hand sign he knew, but it got his message across.

“Oh, thanks for reminding me,” Salma said. She walked over to the table. “I wasn’t sure if you were ready to think about a trade yet,”–the ‘with what you’ve been through’ went unsaid, but Resh winced anyway–“but I was wondering if you might consider registering your mage ability with the town.”

He sucked in a breath, taking an involuntary step back before he remembered that this town used magic in their daily lives. His sign for question was still a little brittle, though.

Her expression softened. “We use it for work requests. There are several people with minor abilities, but I’ve heard yours might be a little stronger than that. You’d probably be able to make a comfortable living selling your services if you wanted. And if you wanted or needed more work, we could let some of the other nearby towns or villages know you were open to requests.”

Oh. Resh stared, more than a little shocked. He’d never once considered that people might actually be interested in paying him for his magic.

Salma approached him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “I know it’s a different approach to magic than what you’re used to. Take some time to consider. I just wanted you to know it was an option.”

Resh nodded, his mind already whirling with the possibilities. He could probably work as much or as little as he wanted, depending on the demand for his particular ability. His gaze swept over the kitchen. The possibility of having an actual job enhanced his imagination, filling in some of the holes in his dreams.

“Okay, good.” She smiled. “Well, I’ve probably been away too long. Adan will start to worry, and I think we have to make a speech or something at the festival later.” Salma squeezed his arm before stepping away. “Are you ready, or would you like to stay a little longer?”

Resh shook his head. He followed her out, turning to look at the house once more before leaving. Visions of what he hoped would be his future played out before him: Carr sitting with her feet pulled up on the swing; Orla planting a garden for spring; all of them coming together after a long day and entering their home, as a family.

A family.

The thought made his heart ache, but in a good way. He rubbed his eyes; he’d been shedding far too many tears over the last few weeks, and they were sore. But who could blame him? Things were coming together in a way he could never have dared to hope for.

He followed Salma back out into the bustle of the square, hoping Carr would like the house as much as he did.

~~~

Carr

It had been a long time since Carr had been forced to endure the madness that came with a seasonal festival.

The variety of choice and people had been a novelty for all of five minutes before she’d been ready to be done, but Resh and Orla had seemed happy enough, so she’d endured. The tightness around her eyes must’ve become noticeable at some point though, because Resh had sent Orla off to play with some of the other children before heading for an empty bench on the periphery of all the nonsense.

She took his offered hand as they sat, grateful for the reprieve.

In the city, she’d been on nights for longer than she cared to remember presently. While she was a damned good pickpocket, Nykim’d had other ideas on how to utilize her particular skills, and she hadn’t complained.

Market days were about as crazy as she could handle. Seasonal festivals were on a whole other level and lasted for days, besides.

Resh squeezed her hand, and she swiveled her head, wondering if she’d missed something.

But no, Orla was still playing by the fountain with the other children. They were all smiles and giggles as they splashed at one another. It might be midway through autumn by now, but it was still warm enough for such activities. Carr wondered if it even snowed this far north. She wouldn’t be sad if it didn’t.

Spying nothing out of sorts, she turned her attention back to Resh.

You okay? he asked.

She shrugged, her eyes darting back out over the crowds. The bench they’d settled on to keep watch over Orla was out of the main square but still close enough that all the noise and activity was still very much in her face.

Happy noise and excited activity. Although, that lady’s tone had gained a sharp edge while she haggled with one of the visiting merchants. Carr kept an eye on her, her body tensing. It took her a moment to realize Resh was squeezing her hand again.

You aren’t on duty, you know, he said, his lips twisting in a wry grin.

Carr grimaced. “Maybe it’d be better if I was. I can’t seem t’ stop lookin’ for trouble.” She frowned at the thought. “Y’know, I don’t think I’ve seen one pickpocket yet. Isn’t that strange?”

Resh shook his head, disturbing the fall of hair across his brow, which exposed his scar. That doctor might be a total ass, but the cream he’d given Resh to help fade the burn’s angry appearance was doing a great job. She reached out to fix his hair anyway, knowing he wouldn’t want it on display.

The smile he gave her in return had her stomach doing flip-flops. Her cheeks flushed, and she sat back with a thump, staring straight ahead. She didn’t realize Resh had released her until her bones protested how hard she was squeezing her hands in her lap.

Forcibly, she unclenched them, then rubbed her sweaty palms on her pants. Mother’s cunt, she needed to get ahold of herself.

It was fine, she told herself. She was allowed to like him. He wasn’t going to leave her. He wasn’t going to hurt her.

He wasn’t going to leave her. He wasn’t going to hurt her.

He wasn’t going to leave her. He wasn’t going to–

Resh’s shoulder bumped into hers, and she started.

You want to get out of here? he asked, the wrinkle between his eyebrows betraying his concern.

Oh gods, did she ever. But– She glanced over at the fountain, watching as his sister coaxed a flower to bloom to the evident delight of a younger child. “Orla’s having fun. I’ll be fine.”

He gestured toward a large, dark-skinned man in uniform who seemed to be watching over the children. I’ll ask Uvellin to keep an eye on her, if you’ll give me a minute?

Carr nodded, supposing if she couldn’t trust the captain of Hallin’s guard to watch out for one child, then she had no business enlisting in said guard to begin with. Although, she was starting to think she’d be more suited as a consultant or something. Maybe a weapon’s trainer. Not the sword, but their skills with a dagger could definitely use some help.

She kept an eye on Resh while her mind wandered, watching as he used a combination of gestures, hand sign, and his notebook to communicate with the guard captain. It had surprised both of them to learn that there was a common language one could use to speak with their hands and not their voice, but they were still learning, which explained why he was writing now.

Uvellin clapped Resh’s shoulder, the big man staggering him a bit as their business concluded. Carr tried to keep her amusement to herself while Resh made his way back but knew she’d failed when he narrowed his eyes at her.

He rubbed his shoulder, his lips quirking as he said, That man’s too strong for his own good.

Carr choked on a laugh. “He can’t help it. ‘Sides, that’s a pretty good quality for a guard t’ have.”

Damn, that wasn’t something she’d ever expected to say about an authority figure.

Shaking it off, she moved to follow Resh when he tilted his chin, asking if she was ready. They skirted the square instead of going straight through; Resh likely sensed in whatever way it was he had to read her that she couldn’t handle the press of bodies right now.

It was probably stupid, considering they’d have to go all the way around to get back to the manor, but she appreciated his consideration nonetheless.

But they were only halfway around when he led her through an alley that spilled out into a public garden in the residential district.

She raised her eyebrows, stopping in her tracks. “What’s this?”

Resh turned to face her. I’d like to show you something, if you’re up for it. The whole town must be in the square right now, so it should be pretty quiet back here.

What could he possibly want to show her in the residential district? Her eyes darted around, taking in the neighborhood beyond the garden. It seemed like a nice place, but she hadn’t been back there yet.

“Okay,” she said, but she refused his hand when he offered. Her hand hovered over her dagger while she followed him deeper into the streets.

Gods, these houses were huge. Who needed two levels on a personal dwelling? There was plenty of space between them, with trees and hedges and fences to protect privacy. Every home seemed like its own mini village.

Resh led her to a property on the end of one of the streets. Farmland stretched out in seeming perpetuity behind it, and she could see the edge of the Seleni Wood in the distance on the side.

The house loomed above her, all wood and stone and intimidation. A porch wrapped around it, and her eye caught on a swing swaying in the light breeze.

“Who are we visiting, Resh?” Carr asked, stifling her sigh. She didn’t really feel like more people right now, but he must think it was important if he’d brought her here.

He shook his head. No one. I want to show you the house.

Why? She didn’t ask, though, because he seemed excited, and she didn’t want to spoil that. Instead, she nodded and followed him into the house.

All she could think about was how big it was as she walked through room after room after room. The house was fully furnished, but it didn’t appear to have been lived in for some time. She ran her finger through a fine layer of dust on one of the window sills, wondering why, why, why.

Why did one need a sitting room and a living area and a dining space and not one, not two, not three, but four closed-off rooms that she supposed were sleeping rooms, although one was furnished with what looked like a crafting bench.

She finally stopped in the final sleeping room on the ground floor, which had a larger bed than the others, and turned to Resh, who’d been silent all this time.

What do you think? he asked after a moment. His body language was guarded, like he could tell her mind was spinning like a top and wasn’t sure what would come out of it.

“I think… I don’t understand what’s happening…” She spun in a circle before facing him again. “Why are you showing me this place?”

He fidgeted with one of his gloves, which he’d taken to wearing again when he’d gotten strong enough to venture out of the manor. I… Salma’s been taking me to look at available properties. And then this one came up– He spread his arms out. She showed it to me this morning, and I thought…

“You want to buy this house?” Carr squeaked. Her head swiveled around with renewed interest until Resh whistled for her attention.

Only if you like it. Well, and Orla, but I don’t think she’ll mind.

“It’s so big, Resh,” she said, walking over to the doorway to peer out into the hall. “We can’t possibly need this much space.” She cringed when she realized what she’d said. “I mean, you. You can’t possibly need this much space.”

Resh’s approaching footsteps seemed excessively loud in the resultant silence. Her heart jumped into her throat when they stopped, and it took a minute to convince her body to turn and face him.

We, he said. You do remember the whole ‘I want to build a life with you’ speech, right?

She leaned against the door, her knees feeling a little weak. “I didn’t, uh, wanna assume?” She had to clear her throat when he arched a brow. “We?”

He nodded emphatically. Always.

She swallowed. He wouldn’t leave her. He wouldn’t hurt her.

He loved her, and that was allowed to be a good thing.

It was allowed.

She was allowed…

“I’m still not marrying you,” she said with absolutely no thought.

Fuck. She squeezed her eyes closed. What the fuck was the matter with her?

Before she had time to call herself too many kinds of stupid, she heard Resh step forward. Carr braced herself, but nothing could’ve prepared her for when his hands cupped her face. Her eyes flew open; he never initiated any kind of touch…

It wasn’t until he swiped his soft, leather-covered thumbs under her eyes that she realized she was crying.

Okay, he said solemnly.

She sniffed, horrified at her lack of control. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.”

I know this is a lot, he said, stepping back to give her some space.

She didn’t want it, though. She threw herself forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, probably squeezing too hard, but he didn’t seem to mind. His arms enveloped her, and she soaked in his warmth while she listened to the soothing ka-thump of his heart.

He stood there without complaint, holding her, holding her, holding her, until she felt ready to emerge from her Resh cocoon.

And when she finally regained the courage to look at him again, all he said was, You okay?

It was enough to make her eyes well up again, and she swiped at them angrily. This was ridiculous.

I can keep looking, he said, concern written all over his features. If this is too big, too overwhelming, I’ll find something smaller. It probably won’t have a shower, though–

“A shower?” Her voice rose, and she spun, looking for the door–

Resh pointed out into the hall, and she ran, embracing the distraction for all it was worth.

And it was worth a lot.

She threw open the door to the bathing room, which happened to be between the two downstairs sleeping chambers, and stared at all the blue-tiled glory that lay within.

In a daze, she walked inside and tried the tap on the sink. As if by magic, warm water poured out. She ran her fingers through the stream, a small smile turning up the corners of her mouth.

Well, it was by magic, wasn’t it. She almost giggled at herself.

Turning, she eyed the glass-enclosed shower before her attention settled on a raised, rectangular wall on the opposite side. It hit about mid-thigh for her when she approached, and when she looked in, she found it was deeper than the floor of the bathing room.

“Why is there room for a small lake in here?” she asked, wonder tinging her voice.

She ripped her eyes away from it to look at Resh, who was leaning against the doorframe. He just shrugged, a small smile tipping up the corner of his mouth.

For the second time that day, the tenderness in his expression slammed into her. And instead of feeling warm and happy about it, her stupid heart thudded in her chest, each beat flooding her with fear.

Carr sucked in a breath and sat on the lip of the bath, needing the support. She had been doing so well lately. But today, she’d been thinking about how she was allowed… allowed…

Resh’s face blanked.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. Her throat tightened–that was twice now since they’d come in that he’d needed to guard what he felt.

Hesitantly, he took a step into the room. What’s wrong?

Her vision swam at his palpable concern. “I think…” She was allowed. “I think I might... love you.”

She burst into tears.

#hidden depths #original writing #original characters #whump #whump writing #fantasy writing #fantasy whump

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kaylinalexanderbooks · 8 months ago

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WIP Questionnaire

Thanks @buffythevampirelover for the tag! This game looks fun!

Rules: answer as few or as many as you'd like!

1. What was the first part of your wip that you created?

TSP: Lexi was! TSP started out as a school project, and we had to create a character sheet for our first person narrator! That was "Alexia" who is now just "Lexi" (but her full name is still Alexia).

SOTL: The concept! "School for fairy tale characters" was basically it. I got discouraged a bit when I found out this concept already existed, but that didn't mean I couldn't do my own take!

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

My favorite types of intros for TV shows are original theme songs or very catchy instrumental music. 30-60 seconds is a good length. I'd hope that for TSP and SOTL. Hope this isn't a cop-out.

3. Who are your favourite characters you've made? Why?

TSP: My favorite characters to write for are Lexi, Gwen, Akash, Robbie, and Carmen. Lexi because the arc I gave her is an exaggerated version of something that speaks a lot to me. Gwen because I wasn't expecting her to be as interesting as she ended up being planned to be. Robbie and Akash because of how funny and sweet their dynamic is. Yes, I love them separately, but they're a package set. Carmen because she's just so damn interesting I love studying her under a microscope.

SOTL: I am barely into writing it, but it's Jack at the moment. Shocker, he has three chapters while Tierney and Úrsula have one each! But the reason is that he is average at everything, but he doesn't let that get him down! He's funny and relatable and a dork.

4. What other pieces of media do you think would share a fan base for your story?

TSP: Hm, good question. The only thing coming to mind right now is Young Justice (the cartoon). Starts out with this fun group of kids, becomes extremely dark. Ensemble cast. Sneaking around. Superpowers. Fight scenes. Drama.

SOTL: Insert fairy tale retelling here.

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your wip?

TSP: Juggling everything. The world building, I guess. Making all the characters distinct was something I struggled at for a while, but I'm getting much better at it. Trying to figure out how the world works is challenging, but I am having fun. But juggling all the moving parts to make it cohesive is a challenge.

SOTL: What is plot?!! Also battling my ambition to do every fairy tale ever. I'm gonna have to make a lot of background characters that will get their own side stories separate from the main series to get all that I want. I probably will do that.

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

TSP: Yep! Alium has a lot of fantasy creatures, animal hybrids, and fun things I just made up. Custos the dragon is the only truly prominent one right now. He's a blue fire dragon and is adorable. I also have kitsunes. Animal hybrids include unibison, ferretsnakes, cowyotes, beaverducks. Things I made up include the elemental foxes and blue hedgehogs.

SOTL: Hofiwi is an anthropomorphic bear! She was cursed to be anthropomorphic, this is not a normal thing in this world. I love her and she's just planned at the moment. Can't wait to do more.

7. How do your characters get around? (ex: trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

TSP: Hovercrafts, dragons, teleporting, trains, and some other power-based travel

SOTL: I'm still figuring this out no one has gone anywhere yet. Dragons or carriages would be cool. Maybe I can mix them with something modern to fit the setting.

8. What part of your wip are you working on rn?

TSP: World building! Specifically the power database since that will be the backbone for everything.

SOTL: Reading fairy tales... I need to do that more

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your wip do you think will draw people in?

TSP: Powers, diverse cast, queer/disability rep

SOTL: same as TSP but fairy tales!

10. What are your hopes for your wip?

If I see one (1) fanart between either my life will be complete.

This was fun!

Softly tagging @mk-writes-stuff @jezifster @blind-the-winds @little-peril-stories @sleepywriter00 @mysticstarlightduck @sarahlizziewrites @writernopal @gottestod-writes + anyone who wants to join!

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites - giving a slightly harder nudge than usual cause I really want to see what y'all have to say! Still optional obviously

Blanks below the cut!

1. What was the first part of your wip that you created?

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

3. Who are your favourite characters you've made? Why?

4. What other pieces of media do you think would share a fan base for your story?

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your wip?

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

7. How do your characters get around? (ex: trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

8. What part of your wip are you working on rn?

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your wip do you think will draw people in?

10. What are your hopes for your wip?

#writing tag game #wip questionnaire #the secret portal #tsp #teaspoon #school of the legends #sotl #writing blog #writers on tumblr #writing community #writers of tumblr #writing on tumblr #writeblr #writeblr community

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writingquestionsanswered · 10 months ago

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MC Feels Like Sidekick

Anonymous asked: Do you have any advice for making a main character seem less like a sidekick? my main protagonist's best friend is introduced as such in the first chapter, helps out with the plot a little, and then vanishes for a while. he later reappears and is solidified as a very important and major character, but i feel like he still comes across as the protagonist's sidekick. there are other characters in the story who are the protagonist's friends (and revolve around her much more than this character) but they feel more like their own characters for some reason.

[Ask edited for length]

Sidekicks can be main characters. More specifically, they are main or secondary characters who are the protagonist's main support, both in terms of helping them reach their external goal as well as providing emotional support. Sidekicks are often used as a tool to help the reader understand the story better. For example, the sidekick might ask the protagonist questions that the writer knows the reader would have, which--by letting the protagonist answer the sidekick's question--provides an opportunity to explain things to the reader without defaulting to exposition. Sidekicks can also act as a foil to the protagonist, contrasting them in ways that set off important things about the protagonist. And, much like any other main character, sidekicks--even if their secondary characters--can have a character arc and often do.

If you truly don't want this character to feel like a sidekick, you will want to make sure they are spending time with other characters, are supporting other characters (and being supported by other characters), and that they have an important role in the story beyond just supporting the protagonist. Ultimately, you should be able to ask yourself, "Does this character still fit into the story if they're not the protagonist's best friend?" and answer 'yes.' If your answer is 'no,' you need to give them a more significant role in the story apart from being the best friend.

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

LEARN MORE about WQA

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xbruised-peachx · 2 years ago

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Mäuschen Ch 4.

After a bit of a break (sorry, I shifted schedules at work not to mention all my other projects I have!) chapter 4 is here. No smut, just some nice relaxing fluff :3 (also help i dont have any new renders/clips for this that fit so uh... um...)

(sure) Summary: After waiting for him to return from his work, you two can finally relax and have moment to yourselves, hopefully setting your worries aside. Word Count: 8,586 Tags: Fluff, making out, a sprinkle of angst, face reveal, this was written b4 i made the discovery abt the t-shirt being his mask don’t worry i know i’m the one that made that tiktok you dont have to mention it 🔞+ STORY Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3

AO3 link. Translations notes at the end of the chapter!

Tag list- @xncasi @m99n @uwu-i-purple-you @quiziwizi @kitty-satan1 @xxgirlscoutcookiexx @rainydayfanfic @confuseddipshit @konig-breedme @seraphimcollections @ashmichi-34 @carrieism @lilpothoscuttings

As you read the fictional war-time set book that he had readily available on his bedside table, the hours passed easily it seemed. You got up on occasion just to stretch your legs from laying on his overly firm mattress, but couldn’t complain too much from how big it was, how nicely it enveloped you. Looking over to his alarm clock, it had finally hit 5:30 pm, and your stomach would have reminded you if you didn’t check. You were thoroughly starving, the toast from this morning only lasting you until about 2 until you started feeling hunger pangs. You suppose it’s one of the unforeseen consequences of this deal; anytime he was on a mission, you would only have breakfast and dinner, if that. You assume there may be a point where he’s woken up at 5 am and just has to go, leaving you for the whole day. But maybe it’s different since he’s just a contractor.

You wondered if he’d be back soon. You didn’t even recall what time he left, but it had to be just before noon. You hoped it’d be soon since it was getting harder and harder to focus on reading. You knew though that he and Horangi were still trying to figure out something about the tape. You didn’t want to rush that, not that you could even with you being holed up in his room. And you knew they certainly weren’t going to get it figured out in a day, especially while using code words in a supply room. But the sooner the better, and the sooner he got back the better too, as it felt like your stomach was about to eat itself.

About ten minutes passed as you struggled, re-reading the same sentence as you struggled to focus, you heard a click from the door, looking up and seeing the lock turn left. It slowly opened and he peered his head in, his eyes slowly showing his smile as he met eyes with you again. You gave him a cute wave, smiling back at him as he started to walk in. He shut the door behind him, but you noted that he didn’t lock it. He let out an exhausted sigh as he slowly walked to you.

“You look so cute on my bed... so little, meine Maus.” He walked up to the side of the bed, leaning over you and putting his hands on either side of you. You blushed, averting your gaze from him as you shut the book, setting it back on the table and just as quickly meeting his eyes again.

“It’s because it’s made for you, big guy.” You smiled cheesily as you pushed yourself up slightly to meet his loom over you. You heard his breath hitch and he quickly pulled up his mask, you both knowing to come close and close the gap, kissing softly as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. He pulled away, letting out another sigh, but this time sounding relieved.

“I’ve always wanted to come back to a beautiful girl waiting for me... heheh, this still doesn’t seem real.” His voice trailed off as he brought one his hands up and placed it gently on your waist. “...Wish it was in better circumstances but I guess I can’t complain too much.” He let out a small chuckle as you smiled sweetly back at him. He rubbed his thumb up and down on the side of your stomach humming slightly to himself, almost covering the rumbling of your stomach, but he could clearly feel the vibrations as his eyes went wide. You instantly blushed, feeling embarrassed and broke your gaze from him. “Oh, Scheiße! I’m sorry, Liebling, you must be so hungry. I should’ve asked as soon as I came in.”

You smiled slightly, glad he wasn’t mad at you for not telling him sooner, but also wishing he wouldn’t blame himself for it. You met his eyes again, seeing they had now averted from you sadly. You brought your hand up to softly hold the side of his head, his gaze quickly shifting back to you. “It’s okay. Why don’t we go ahead and get some dinner then? Then we can get back and we can relax.” You smiled softly to yourself as you looked to the side, your mind wandering. “...We can actually relax.”

When you looked back at him, you could tell he was smiling at the thought too. He nodded, nuzzling his head in your hand before standing upright, letting his hand run down your arm and helping you up off the bed. You stayed holding onto his hand, walking with him as he reached the door, stopping when he did and turning to you. “I should say, even though you probably know, we can’t be... oh, what’s the word for it? I know there’s one, where we can’t kiss or do anything romantic out there...”

“No PDA?” You answered, trying to complete his thought. Public displays of affection, you knew they were very frowned upon, especially while in uniform in the military. So that made sense.

His eyes lit up as he snapped the fingers of his other hand. “That’s it! Thank you. We can’t have any PDA out there, so... I mean if you need to get anything out of your system.” His lids lowered slightly as he bent down to reach your level. You chuckled and shook your head softly, looking down to the floor then meeting his eyes again. You quickly grabbed the end of his mask and pulled it up, clashing your lips against his. He quickly reciprocated, taking his arms and wrapping them around your waist, pulling you close as instantly the kiss got more deep and passionate. You moved your lips softly against his and he slightly opened his mouth, letting his tongue just barely to lick your bottom lip. You smiled as you felt it, letting your hands run up around his neck and grabbing the nape of his neck, letting your fingers intertwine with his hair. You could feel him pull a sly smirk in the kiss as he lowered his hand to your ass, acting as a support as he suddenly stood upright, bringing you with him. You yelped as your lips pulled away instinctively. You legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as well, as he started to laugh. “Sorry, Mäuschen... gotta get some stuff out of my system too before we go.”

He quickly brought his lips back to yours as the kiss continued right where it left off, just deep as he licked your bottom lip again, asking for permission to enter as he just barely skirted the line of pushing it in. You smiled and gave him what he wanted, opening your mouth and letting your tongue meet his. He hummed delightedly in the kiss as you both let each other softly and passionately intertwine. Slowly he pulled his tongue back, ending the kiss reluctantly, but not before giving one quick peck before fully pulling back, letting his mask fall. You slowly opened your eyes, seeing him look at you sympathetically as he slowly brought you back to the floor.

“Alright... let’s go get you some food.”

You chuckled as you held his hand while he opened the door. He didn’t fight that, you imagine you two could pass it off simply as him guiding you. He turned and locked the door behind him, then turned to his left to guide you down the hall. You were surprised you were able to keep pace with him considering his much longer legs. You were walking at a normal pace to you, and you wondered if he was doing this purposefully. You looked up to him, seeing him continue to stare straight forward as he turned another corner, his hand trembling against yours slightly. It seemed he felt you look at him though as he met your gaze. For a moment his eyes looked worried but as soon as they saw your loving gaze, he returned the expression.

As you continued walking though, staring into each other's eyes, you heard more muffled voices get louder as you both slowly approached some double doors. Above it was a simple little sign that stuck out to the hallway. “Cafeteria.” You heard a sigh from him as you glanced back to him, pulling his hand away slowly.

“I’m... I’m sorry, Liebling. I want to keep guiding you by holding your hand but... I don’t want to attract more attention when we walk in.” His voice sounded sorrowful but with a lot of nervous shakes and hesitation as he spoke. His anxiety... You could imagine from the amount of people, it was making it spike more than ever for him. He probably already gets lots of stares anytime he has to duck under a door frame to get into a room.

You nodded at him, showing your sympathy for him the best you could. “I understand... I’ll just stick close behind you, okay?”

You could tell he was smiling as you answered, nodding at your suggestion. He took another deep breath and very gently opened the door. The noise of the room escaped as he very quickly ducked his way in, you following closely behind. More harsh fluorescents stung your eyes as you slowly refocused, peering at the room. Some voices stopped talking and looked at the both of you that entered. You instantly flushed, feeling embarrassed, especially as you looked down at your pajamas. You quickened your pace to meet König at the beginning of the food line. With how fast he was moving now, you knew he was holding back in the hallway. He grabbed a tray for you and him, keeping his head down as he continued down the line. It reminded you a lot of being in school, all the food lined out for you to choose, but nothing too interesting honestly. On yours, you put a slice of turkey, some gravy, and some string beans. Normally, you would think potatoes would go great with this but after yesterday, you weren’t sure if you’d eat potatoes for a while. On his he had meatballs with some sort of brown sauce on them, potatoes, and a roll. The roll sounded good but it seemed he took the last one. He glanced over to you right as you were looking at his roll, wondering if he would split it with you.

“D-did you want this?” His voice came out choked as he spoke with a hushed tone. You looked up at him, seeing he was completely avoiding eye contact with you. You could feel it too though, what was making him feel even more anxious. The few stares that were still directed at you two. It made your anxiety shoot up too. You nodded softly, but thought for a moment he wouldn’t see it. Just as you were about to speak, he quickly took the roll and put it on your tray. You looked up at him and smiled, not wanting to attract any more attention, you just simply mouthed to him a thank you. You assumed he saw it as his gaze averted even more to the side as he continued down the line.

Grabbing two water bottles, he was easily able to hold both with one hand while holding his tray, as he picked up pace as you exited the line. You tried to keep up with him as he went for a table that was in the furthest corner, nobody at the tables surrounding it. You looked at him as you set your tray across from him, lifting his mask up to start eating quickly.

“We have to eat here? We can’t take it to your room?” You asked with a hushed tone, watching as he snapped to look at you, but quickly darted back to his food, looking down.

“Yeah... some people have brought their food to their room and forgot to take it out after so, it's banned. We all have to eat here.”

You nodded, understanding. “I guess that makes sense... still kind of dumb though.”

He remained silent in response. You were hoping talking a little would ease his nerves a little, but you could still feel his leg bounce, slightly shaking the table as you started to eat. You watched him curiously as he continued to eat, pulling his mask up and wolfing his food down quickly.

“You always keep that mask on, huh? Even when you're eating?”

He finally locked eyes with you for a moment. You couldn’t quite tell his expression, his brain seeming overwhelmed to the point he couldn’t even think of which one to express. “I... Y-yeah, I don’t like people looking at me. At least this hides me somewhat, even when I have to pull it up.”

You shrugged your shoulders as you took a bite of your roll he kindly gave you. “Now, I mean this in the nicest way possible... but I think people look at you more because you're wearing the mask. Having to pull it up to eat kind of draws more attention than eating like normal.”

He nodded, his eyes going to the side as he started to dip his spork in the remaining sauce from his entree. “You’re right... but they still aren’t looking at me. They’re looking at a mask that’s over me. That’s all they can associate with me. But I know I’m more than this,” he tugged at his mask as he brought the utensil up to his mouth, “so they’re just looking at my mask. Not me. If you get what I’m saying...” He glanced over to you, watching for your reaction as you continued to eat your roll, mulling over his words in your head a bit confused. “...No one here has seen my face, so they don’t even know me. The only me they know is König, the tall guy with the sniper hood on all the time. They are only looking at a part of me... Besides, I find it kind of comforting to wear now, I don’t even think of it most of the time.”

You nodded, kind of understanding what he was getting at. Sure, it wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism but it at least helped him. You just wondered what he’d be like when he wasn’t deployed or got out of the military, what he would do then. You figured it’s something he would probably figure out by the time that happened, or at least, with how he worried about things, it’s probably something he’s thought of too.

He sat silently as he ate his potatoes, not looking at you much as you continued to eat as well. String beans weren’t your favorite but at least it was better nutrients than yesterday. You noticed just how fast he ate though, easily outpacing you and making you realize probably why he got so big growing up. You looked over to your half finished roll, you had set it aside as you got a bit tired of the flavor, but saw him still just about done with dinner while you had barely reached the halfway point. You gently place the half of the roll on his tray, returning the favor when he gave you it. He looked down at it wide eyed and confused before catching your gaze again.

“You don’t have to, darl-” He stopped mid sentence, doing a faux clearing of his throat. Clearly, he didn’t even want to have that public display of affection, but you suppose it wasn’t bad to be too cautious. Besides, he peppered you with enough pet names in private to last you a lifetime. “You should have it, you’re the one who hasn’t eaten all day.”

“I had toast this morning... Besides, I guess I just have a smaller stomach than you.”

He let out a little laugh, and with him lifting his mask up to eat, under the shadows you could barely catch a glimpse of his smile. It was cute, wide and a little asymmetrical, going to his left a little more, giving him an almost permanent smirk. “I... don’t think that’s how that works. Please,” he put the roll back on your tray, meeting your eyes again, “I appreciate it but I’m a big boy... I’ll be fine without a roll tonight.”

He leaned back to his seat, you hadn’t even noticed how close he had gotten to you, making your blush as you realized it. Quickly you glanced around the room, just to make sure no one saw. It seemed finally people diverted their attention to their own tables, in their own conversations and meals. When you looked back to König, you noticed he had done the same, glancing around the room to make sure people had stopped watching you two.

You finished up your roll and string beans, just enjoying the presence of him in silence, knowing he didn’t really want to attract any more attention by keeping up a conversation. He had already finished his meal, so he was just watching you, his elbows on the table as he rested his face against his interlaced fingers. Though, he probably wasn’t actually watching you, as you noticed his eyes not really move much, and rather was probably just spaced out. When you finally noticed he was focused on you again, that’s when he spoke.

“What do you like for snacks? Something more sweet or something like chips?”

You paused as you thought about the random question. “I think it depends on my mood really... I can go either way.”

“Any particular thing you like? From both those categories.”

“Um...” you were a bit taken back by the random questions, but noticed his posture as he was about to get up. You glanced behind yourself, looking at the variety they had available here. “...I guess the Lay’s Wavy and those little chocolate cakes with the frosting in the middle.”

He nodded and stood up in silence. You just watched as he walked away again at a fast pace, going through the line as you took one of the final few bites of your turkey. Once he returned, he had a small package that he had already opened. You looked at the little snack cake in his hand that he had already eaten half of.

“...I thought you said you didn’t like American sweets,” you said light-heartedly, attempting to hide the goofy smile that was creeping on your face. “But, you're eating a twinkie?”

He shrugged his shoulders while grabbing his tray and yours, starting to walk to the trash, holding out the package in his other hand. You took his offer, grabbing the other little cake that came in the package. He had finished his in two bites, letting him throw away the wrapper as he set the trays on the already started stack on top of the garbage. He turned on his heel, patting your back as he started walking forward, encouraging you to walk alongside him. You did as you took another bite of your treat, taking one last look around the room. You didn’t notice anyone looking at you two as you left at first, but then caught a glimpse of a familiar face... well... mask and sunglasses, looking in your direction. You gave him a small wave goodbye as you two left through the doors.

You had finished your twinkie as you both reached his dorm door. Wiping the crumbs on your pants, you were reminded of how you told him you needed new clothes. Right as he pulled his keys out, you spoke up, “König, remember how I said I wanted a change of clothes?”

He looked back at you wide eyed. “Scheiße! I do... damn it...” He paused, bringing his hand to his mouth as he looked off to the side, lost in thought. “...Can we just... uh, check the lost and found? I’m sure something is there.”

You crossed your arms, giving him a bit of an annoyed look. “You don't want to talk to the girls here, do you?”

He let out an exasperated sigh, then met your eyes again, almost pleading but still looking as serious as he could. “Yeah, I really don’t want to knock on the doors and ask the girls here if they have extra clothes. It’s just... It really doesn’t sound right coming from me.” He gestured at himself, his entire tall and bulky figure.

“I can do most of the talking, I’m sure they’ll understand if I ask.”

“Can we please just... do this another day, Liebling?” His voice snapped at you calmly. He very clearly didn’t want to do this... having gone through a lot today. You felt bad pressing him but... you really needed new clothes. You looked to the side, then met his gaze again. You nodded, agreeing to go at least check the lost and found.

It was just past the end of the hallway, just a large cardboard box with a paper sign above it, labeled in a permanent marker crudely. There wasn’t much to choose from, but it’s not like you could be picky considering this was basically stealing clothes. He said he’d throw them in the wash while he was working tomorrow, then get them and bring them back once he finished, but it left you wondering what you’d do for tonight. You really were tired of this shirt, it felt dirty and you hated that feeling. You figured you’d just ask him once you got back to his room.

Opening his door, you followed after him, walking past him as he shut the door behind and locked it. Letting out a huge sigh of relief, he turned around, his eyes closed as he spoke, “Endlich kann ich entspannen... Scheiße...” He spoke the curse softly under his breath as he slowly opened his eyes. They remained half lidded, exhausted but relieved as he looked at you, letting out a little laugh and shaking his head. “What a day, ja?”

You giggled softly as you took a step toward him, keeping your eyes on him as he approached as well. He was quickly and easily able to pull you toward him in a huge hug, gently squeezing you as you were enveloped by his embrace. Your smile grew on your cheeks as you returned it, though you weren’t able to encase him as much, you still tried your best to squish his body as much as you could with your strength. You knew he was holding back while holding you, but you didn’t have to.

“I can’t even imagine the stress you’re going through right now...” His hands gently combed through your hair as you shifted from shoving your face directly into his lower chest to look up at him. “Sometimes... I think I really don’t have much to worry about, but still my brain can’t stop racing... But then I’ll stop and I’ll look at you and every worry about myself stops for a moment as I just start to worry about you, mein Mäuschen...”

Your brows furrowed as you caught his gaze shifting away from you, lost in thought. “Hey... I... We are going to get through this. I know it’s easier said than done but... don’t worry about me.” His gaze shifted back to you as you spoke, softening as he saw your expression. “As long as you're with me, to support me, I will be fine. I... I feel the same way; once I see you again, I feel my worries melt away. I just feel so at ease with you... We haven’t known each other for long but sometimes... You know, you just get that with someone, where it feels like you’ve known each other for years just from how easy it is to relax and talk with them.”

He nodded, and you were able to tell he had a soft smile creeping up his face. The way the light through the window hit him... It was just before twilight, the sun just barely starting to set but still making the room a nice amber tone. It made his already gorgeous eyes look even more beautiful, the warm tone contrasting beautifully to his cool toned eyes. “I feel the exact same, Liebling...”

His grip on you tightened as he started to lift you up. You adjusted your grip, going from wrapping your arms around his abdomen to letting them go up and around his neck as he pulled you closer. One of your hands pulled up his mask slowly as your legs wrapped around him for additional support, as the two of you brought your faces close to each other. For a moment, you stayed there, just an inch between each other as you shared bated breaths, before he gave in and closed the gap, his hand gripping your back as you pulled your body even closer to his. Your lips moved softly against his, your mouth opening to breathe, and he matched it, though you both held back, not letting your tongues slip out and instead just exchanging breaths.

Just as he started the kiss, he was the one who broke away first, slowly opening his eyes and looking at you, then shifting over to the bed. “...I hate to be a mood killer but the bed is looking really inviting now... and not even in the fun way but I just want to lay down.” He let out an awkward laugh, but let it fade out as you laughed with him. You unwrapped your legs from around him as you slowly lowered yourself, him helping as he leaned over to ease you to the ground.

“We should get into something more comfy then and just... lay down for the night. Put something on the TV and just, slowly doze off.”

He smiled as he looked at you. “That sounds wonderful...”

He had started to walk to his bed, but you gently ran your hand down his arm to his wrist. “Speaking of which though... is it possible I could just... sleep in one of your shirts for the night? I’m sorry, I know I keep going on about the clothes but just this shir-”

He cut you off by letting out a little laugh, taking a small step towards you. “Say less, my dear... My shirt might look like a dress on you but... I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

You smiled as he walked past you, turning to his dresser as you took a step back, starting to undress. You saw his gaze shift as he saw your shirt fly past him and into his hamper. You could imagine the little blush creeping up his face as he dug through his drawer. He held up a black shirt that had “Rammstein” written right on top, with the logo taking up a majority of the rest of it, all in a nice red to accent the dark tone. You definitely were going to be swimming in it. “This will work... I haven’t worn this since high school so... this is much too small for me.”

He let out a little laugh, cut short as he looked behind and saw your body again, his eyes going wide for a moment. You smiled, a blush creeping up your cheeks as you tried to remain confident. “Why’d you bring it then if it’s too small?”

He did a little clearing of his throat. He was on his knees to look in his dresser easier, but he did not switch to stand as he kept looking at you, instead slowly sliding forward. “Oh... I guess just memories. I like bringing a few pieces of home with me when I’m out of country like this.”

He looked at you, his eyes half lidded as he was right next to you. With him on his knees, he was finally your height, much easier to see you eye to eye. Gently, he grabbed your arms, lifting them up slightly to make it easier to slip your arms in. You helped him out, ducking your head under to get yourself in. As he pulled it down, he let his hands trail, outlining your body softly and delicately until he reached your lower hips. A shirt that was too small for him still went well below your pelvis, making it a very comfy nightshirt.

He wasted no time grabbing your hips and pulling you close, lifting his mask up and meeting your lips much easier at this height. You smiled and chuckled in the kiss, wrapping your arms around him as he hungrily devoured you. He was so cute when he was desperate and needy. When he broke the kiss he let out a sigh, looking deep into your eyes. “...I’m so glad you’re here, mein Mäuschen.”

You smiled, looking back at him just as lovingly. “I can say the same...” You let your hands gently drift down his shoulders and to his chest, drumming your fingers on his dark athletic jacket. “Now, I think you could switch into something more comfortable as well. I’m sure you don’t sleep with that mask on, do you?”

As you started laughing, he averted his gaze, the loving confidence in his eyes dropping as nerves took him over obviously. It made you cut your laugh short, knowing this was something that was more serious to him, spiking his anxiety.

“...Right... Y-yeah, you’re right, I don’t sleep with it on... I knew I was gonna have to take it off for you eventually... I just was putting it off in my mind I guess...”

He paused, still not looking at you and his grip on your hips faltering to just barely be resting on them. “...Are you worried I’ll not like you if I know how you look?”

He let out a big sigh, “That and nobody here has seen my face... or at least known they have... I know my head sticks out of the shower a little.” He let out a little chuckle, glancing at you a moment to gauge your reaction before returning to the floor. “I guess not showing my face kind of boosts what little confidence I have... but I can’t put it off...”

You brought one of your hands up to cup his cheek. He nuzzled into your touch, looking at you from the side as you spoke. “I promise... my opinion of you won’t change when I see your face... I’ll help you get more comfortable with it being shown, even if it’s just showing it to me. You’re helping me through this entire situation... I will return the favor, König.”

It was clear he was smiling as his gaze averted again, closing his eyes as he brought his hands to hold the one that was on his face, enjoying every second of the touch. He breathed deeply through his nose as he slowly opened his eyes, removing his hands to get himself up. “I may look a little odd too, as I still have this eye black on...” He walked over to his desk, opening a drawer and pulling out a towel, stained with other black smudges, and micellar water. He stopped for a moment as he set them on the desk and opened the drawer below, reaching into his cargo pants pockets, pulling out two bags of chips from the two on the side and three snack cakes from his regular front pocket. “...In case you get hungry while I’m gone.”

You started laughing at him pulling out so much food from his pockets, like a little Mary Poppins’ bag. You hadn’t even realized he snuck those away, though you remembered the poptart from yesterday, and it made sense how he was able to do it. As you wondered if he would be able to sneak you some more, he took a deep breath and pulled his mask from the front, letting it slide over the back of his neck as he slowly started to reveal himself. Short, messy bits of dirty blonde hair dripped over his neck. The way the light hit it, you could see very faint hints of the red, auburn tone hidden in there. He still kept his back to you, and you respected it by not peeking, though curiosity was about to kill you. He grabbed the towel, soaking it generously in the water and aggressively rubbed at his face. He put a little more water on it, folding it in half and rubbing it in a half-hearted attempt to clean it as he went in for another round, this time gently wiping using the other side of the towel.

He set the towel down and slowly, reluctantly, turned around. His eyes were closed the whole time, just barely peeking through a crack in his eye after a moment of being turned around. You saw the sliver of those beautiful blue eyes and took a step closer, wanting to see him even better. As he slowly opened his downturned eyes, you still saw the little bits of black makeup that stained his waterline, but somehow made his eyes pop more. His bushy eyebrow also remained stained slightly from the makeup as they turned up, concerned and worried as you kept looking at him in awe. His face was thinner, a slightly square jawline helping match his rather bulky frame. His nose was not quite thin, but also not wide, but from the side you could see the slight hook, the little bump of an aquiline nose. Possibly from it being broken as you saw it just barely tilt to his right. On his left, you had noticed it before when you first met him, and still felt it on occasion when kissing him; a scar going from the top left of his lip to just barely where his nostril started, but more so going onto his cheek. It wasn’t strong, but the pale skin contrasted to his surprisingly tan skin. It wasn’t like he was very tan, but for someone always covered head to toe and from Austria, he had a healthy glow to him.

His lips curled into worry as you remained silent, just looking at his face, taking in every inch of it. He opened his mouth to start to speak but you quickly silenced him, whatever bad thought he was about to voice about himself, as you brought your lips to his, kissing him deeply and passionately. He returned it just as hard, pulling your body close as he smiled softly, but seemed to fight the smile as you both continued. You pulled away, putting your hands on both sides of his face as he looked at you lovingly through half lidded eyes. Though he wasn’t the typical standard of beauty, not by a long shot, as you looked at him... those gorgeous blue eyes that always seemed to be both in bliss and hiding his broken past and thoughts.

“...Du bist sehr schön, mein König.” You were sure your German came out sounding a bit broken and stilted as you weren’t sure if you were saying the right thing. Clearly he didn’t care though as he quickly brought you to his lips again, holding you tightly against him as he hummed contently in the kiss. You smiled and laughed again as you kissed him back, loving hearing his little noises of approval as he kissed you lovingly.

“Und du bist perfekt,” he said while his lips were just barely pulled away from yours. You barely cracked your eyes open, seeing him as he looked at you with half lidded eyes, not with lust but with pure affection and tenderness. “...Mein perfektes Mäuschen.”

You pulled away slowly, taking another moment to look as he stayed smiling looking at you, but as your gaze continued his own gaze averted, looking at various places around the room and some spots on your own face and body. He did another little clearing of his throat, letting go of you as he stayed looking at the floor. “Well... now you’ve seen my face, we’ve gotten that out of the way, you should just... lay down. I’ll change myself and I’ll join you.”

You smiled as you saw him half heartedly smile at you, nodding in agreement as you turned, walking over to the bed. As you got yourself cozy under the comforters, you watched him, trying not to make it obvious as he clicked a button under the TV, turning it on. He kept his back to you as he pulled his shirt up and over. You admired the way his back muscles unintentionally flexed as he pulled it off, watching his large biceps as he tossed it into the ever growing pile of laundry. Even hearing the slight click of his belt made a spark shoot through you, though you knew you both were very exhausted and wouldn’t want to do anything tonight. Not after the day you’ve had. You watched him chuck his cargo pants over to the pile, letting out a little laugh as it slid slowly off the pile. He laughed as well, glancing back at you as he started walking to his dresser.

“Guess it’s a good thing I have to do laundry for you anyway, huh?”

You wanted to respond with something smart or cute, but just sat there, mouth slightly agape as you looked at his figure stunned. It was just as you felt through his clothes, muscular, but not fully chiseled. His pecs were huge and though his waist was smaller, it was only slightly as it led to defined abs. It complimented his large stature, making him both intimidating but even more enticing. He noticed you staring as the sunset hit him just right, the dark body hair he had turning auburn as he smiled again, the lopsided smile coming out fully as he chuckled. “Do you like what you see, Liebling?”

You giggled, feeling your face instantly turn hot as you were caught staring. “Hmm... can’t say I’m complaining. It really compliments your handsome face.”

He laughed again, shaking his head as he pulled out some grey sweatpants. “I would disagree but... My body is something I am more proud of... I worked hard because, well you can imagine hitting my height as a teen suddenly made more good fodder for people to bully me. I looked like a little baby deer.” He shook his head but kept smiling, memories coming back to him. “So, I wanted to even everything out. It helped the bullying stop, especially once I actually got into the military and could leave.”

“I think anyone bullying someone of your height has to be real stupid.” You chuckled, trying to reassure him.

“Oh, trust me... I was no pushover, I made sure they regretted it... Besides, that’s the only way they respected me. Seeing me fight back... they didn’t talk to me because they were scared. But that also meant they didn’t want to talk to me to mock me.” He shrugged his shoulders, brushing off his violent past as he pulled up his pants. Admittedly, hearing about his past, though it didn’t surprise you, still made you a little anxious. You worried about him possibly getting into something that was way over his head. Sometimes he seemed cocky, but sometimes with you he’d be reserved. You were sure on the field he would be way more confident.

“Is that why you joined? Does fighting make you feel more confident?” You tilted your head as you looked at him, walking over to the bed slowly as he thought it over in his head.

“Maybe... I don’t think of it that way but maybe somewhere in the back of my mind it does. I more so joined because it gave my fighting a purpose. It distracts me from everything else on my mind, I have to focus on what’s ahead of me or...” He paused, you both thinking the same grim thought. “...So, if it’s one of the few things I’m good at, why not hone in on it.”

He smiled softly as he sat on the edge of the bed. Though the bed was huge, his frame did take up quite a bit of it. You figured you two would just have to get close, not that you were complaining. He still had no shirt on, probably you had taken his last one since he needed to do laundry soon. Or maybe that was just a convenient excuse he was taking so he could have you even closer to him, to feel you on his own skin. He lifted the covers, scooting in to lay behind you, then pulled them back over. While his arm was over you, he propped himself up slightly, leaning over you to grab the remote. He left his arm draped over you as he started clicking through the channels.

“They don't give you any streaming services, huh?” You were trying to think of the last time you had to flip through channels to find something to watch.

“Heheh, no... one, I think someone could track us if they found whatever WiFi we were on and two, can you imagine how expensive it would be to get some ultimate account that could accommodate everyone here?”

You laughed slightly. “True but... I’m sure a company like this has the funds for it. But the WiFi thing you said is also a good point.”

He continued flipping through the channels, eventually looping back through until he stopped at some variety of cooking show with Gordon Ramsey. Based on the split kitchen, it was some Hell’s Kitchen re-run. He leaned back over you again, putting the remote down but slowed for a moment as he pulled back. He stayed there, slightly hovering and leaning over you. You gave him a small side glance, seeing him smiling as his cheeks were slightly red, turning slightly more as he noticed you caught him, but his smile did not fade.

“Du bist einfach so schön...” He brushed your hair behind your ear and continued to comfortably lay back, letting that arm settle right on your waist, his thumb gently rubbing your stomach through the shirt.

“I was going to ask...” You turned your head slightly to look at him the best you could while keeping your back to him. “I said schön earlier but that means, like, pretty or beautiful, right? Is there a word like handsome where like... it’s more masculine?”

He chuckled and you smiled, feeling his chest rumble against your back. “Well, I don’t mind you calling me schön. It’s pretty gender neutral but I guess the closest equivalent is hübsch. But they both mean the same thing.”

“I mean, pretty and handsome do in concept too but guys generally prefer not being called pretty.”

“I haven’t been called either so... I don’t care what you call me, I’m just happy you think that about me at all.”

Hearing that made you feel pity for him. You were sure people before could just look at his eyes, see how gorgeous they are, and thought it to themselves. Though they would never say it, intimidated by the rest of his form. “Speaking of calling you things and German, what are some pet names you’ve always wanted to be called? You’re always calling me Maus, Mäuschen, Liebling... I’m sure there’s ones you’ve heard and thought would be nice to hear.”

He hummed softly, thinking to himself. His fingers drummed softly on your side. You let your hand drop slowly, letting it rest on top of his hand and your fingers interlacing in between his. You felt him smile as he pressed his lips onto the back of your head, giving you a gentle peck and sighing softly. “Hmm... well you can call me Liebling too. That would be nice, especially coming from your lips... I think I’ve called you Schatz before. I don’t use it too much myself though. If you want an equal to Maus, Bär is one that’s common back home. It just means bear.”

“So, you’ve said chen makes a word mean small right? So if I called you Bärchen...”

He laughed heartily. It seemed like most times he held back his real, bigger laughs, but when he let them loose you loved it. It made you smile and laugh as well, hearing him filled with joy. “I mean, you’d be wrong describing me. But your German is correct. Du machst das gut, mein Liebling.” He brought his other hand that he was using to rest his head to yours, gently brushing your hair behind your ear as he let his fingers run through it. He let it rest above your head as he propped himself up, hovering above you and staring down at you. You could feel it and smiled, turning yourself onto your back to meet his gaze. He was looking at you dopily, pure awe filled as he took you in like it was his first time seeing you again. “Any other German you’d like to know, mein Mäuschen?”

You pulled your lips together as you thought, wondering if you should go with something that may be useful or something a bit more cheeky. “I is ich... want is...?”

“Will.” You loved the way he nearly bit his lip as it softly dragged against his top teeth saying the sound of the W.

“And to? Like ‘I want to...’?”

“It’s included with the will, no additional word is needed.”

You felt the way his hand wiggled his fingers against yours, still gently resting on your stomach and comforting you even more. “Kiss?”

His lids lowered as his smile increased. “Küssen.”

You smiled back as the blush on your cheeks brightened, thinking about the last word you had to learn. “You?”

He let out a little laugh as he leaned closer to you, leaving a few inches between your faces. “In this case, it’d be dich... but the word order will be different, so ich?”

He looked at you expectantly, the silence signaling he wanted you to repeat. “Ich.”

“Will... dich... küssen...” You repeated after him every word, smiling as it felt odd to be speaking another language. But him returning the joy made you feel better as you were actually saying it right. “Now put it together... say it faster...”

“Ich will dich küssen...” Your cheeks beamed as they grew hotter, especially as his eyes started to dart again, from meeting yours to watching your lips speak his native language.

“Und ich will dich auch küssen...” Before you could ask what auch meant, he brought his lips to yours, quickly closing the gap as your fingers interlaced and gripped his hand while kissing passionately. He let his other hand slip under your neck, pulling you closer to him. You wrapped your other arm around his neck in response to him pulling you up slightly, pulling yourself even closer. He gripped back with the hand that was holding yours, picking it up and gently putting it beside your head and holding it there, pinning you in place. As you started to smile, he slipped his tongue out, licking across your bottom lip, as if gently asking permission again. You let your mouth open slightly, letting your tongue meet his as you felt his grip tighten. His breath was hot on your cheek as he puffed out of his nose, letting his tongue explore deeper in your mouth. Slowly he pulled away, opening his eyes just as slow as his grip loosened, meeting your eyes again. “...Ich will dein Alles sein.”

You giggled as he immediately nuzzled into your neck, not even kissing, just attacking your neck with his face gently. Though he was clean shaven for the most part, you could still feel the little bits of facial hair tickle you. “What does that mean? You want...?”

“I want to be your everything,” he said breathily into your neck. “It’s so hard to describe how I feel about you, Liebling. I haven’t felt like this before in my life... Every part of me wants to protect you, care for you, make sure you're happy before anything else.” He leaned up again, looking into your eyes and just staring for a good moment. It was like he was completely awe stuck as he looked at you, mouth slightly agape. He took his hand out from under your neck and gently brushed through your hair. “...I want to do everything I can so I can wake up every morning and see this beautiful, smiling face looking at me with as much love as you are right now...”

You felt heat crawl up your face as you were called out for your own lovestruck look. You couldn’t help it as those crystalline eyes looked at you, shifting slightly as he took in the sight of you under him, the feeling of your hair between his fingers. It was true, he probably never felt this way before. He was so used to resorting to violence that feeling so soft and vulnerable around someone felt alien to him. But he was so willing to give himself to you, to enjoy this feeling he’s never had, you couldn’t help but admire and adore it... adore him even more. “Ich will dein auch Alles sein...”

He chuckled, making you blush even more knowing you messed up your German. He quickly gave you a kiss, reassuring you it was fine. “Close, meine Maus. Ich will auch dein Alles sein.”

You did a fake, over dramatic pout. “I don’t get German grammar... ‘I want also your everything be?’”

He laughed harder this time, getting off from being on top of you and laying back down behind you. “You’ll get it eventually, my darling. I know it’s hard but I’ll help you get through it. Now come on,” he took his muscular arm and draped it over you, pulling you in close to him again, “into my arms.”

You smiled widely and turned back on your side, scooting yourself into his loving embrace. He gave you a strong squeeze before releasing, letting out a relaxed breath as you settled in. “I always dreamed of having a beautiful girl in my arms while I dozed off... It’s even more relaxing when it’s real.”

You smiled, you could say the same, finding it hard not to just close your eyes and rest while wrapped in his arms, his body warm and comforting like a blanket in itself. You took both your arms and pulled them under and around his forearm, hugging it close to you. You gave in, shutting your eyes and taking in the whole feeling of him, hugging his arm like a teddy bear. He placed a gentle kiss on the back of your head before resting his chin on your head, keeping you very close to his body. You felt a shift behind you, the sounds of chefs screaming stopping. You cracked your eye open to see the TV off, darkness taking over the room. All you could feel was the little puffs of air from his nose as he breathed, his chest rising and falling, and the subtle beat of his heart. You nuzzled against him one final time, letting the relaxation take you as you fully fell asleep with him.

Translations! Endlich kann ich entspannen... Scheiße...- Finally, I can relax... fuck... ...Du bist sehr schön, mein König.- You are very beautiful, my König. Und du bist perfekt.- And you are perfect. ...Mein perfektes Mäuschen.- ...my perfect Mäuschen. Du bist einfach so schön...- You are just so pretty... Du machst das gut, mein Liebling.- You are doing well, my darling. Und ich will dich auch küssen...- And I want to kiss you too...

#könig #könig x reader #konig #konig x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #könig mw2 #mw2 #mw2 x reader #Mäuschen

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