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feeling-pushy · 10 months ago

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The Day The World Ended

(a fanfic of ocs that I post about on my BlueSky account. fallow me there if yall want all the pictures and other details that I share on there.)

This is prelude to the story of one of my ocs Montanha and what leads him to making the choices he dose and winds up being a pregnant trans man in an apocalypse UwU.

Also please forgive any grammar/spelling mistakes, I comb over these things multiple times and yet I always miss a couple of things :p

He couldn’t help but let out a yawn as he walked threw the small parking lot, stretching out his back and arms to shake off the fatigue. He may have stayed up too late again, he couldn’t help it, once he got into bed he always tells himself he’d watch one or two of those restoration videos.

But always he’d end up not just watching a guy restore an old gumball machine, but a ps1 as well, then the suggestion feed will suggest his favorite craftier restoring squishes and well, those are usually short. Next thing he knows it’s almost one in the morning and he’s got five hours till he gotta wake up for work. So, he had no one to blame but himself. And the YouTube algorithm.

Well, whatever, that was what the coffee was for, he thought as he chugged the warm cup as he stepped inside and headed for the backroom to hang up his jacket. Now his obnoxious red work shirt stands front and center, though it did compliment the orangish brown of his skin which was nice at least. The stores logo sat over the left breast side, while his name ‘Montanha’ on the right. Clocking in on the digital timecard he heads for the loading zone to see what needs to be moved.

There were already two other employees back there and the three of them quickly coordinated and started moving stuff around. First thing Montanha moved was some big bags of feed, loading about twelve onto one of the platform dolly’s before heading inside to the store to taking them to the right aisle, two more than the regulation ten, but he was strong enough to handle the extra weight. Helps him get his work done faster.

As he was moving stuff he did get stopped by a costumer, some old lady who smiled at him sweetly, “excuse me hon, would you help me reach something off the top shelf?”

“Yes ma’am I sure can.” He says fallowing her to the shelf in question. Naturally, the thing she wanted was at the top, but Montanha grabbed it with ease, barely having to stretch to get at it.

“Oh thank you’ the lady said as Montanha handed her the item, ‘you really are quite an impressive height young man. How tall are you?”

“Six eight ma’am.”

“Oh! That’s quite tall!”

“Yep, makes finding jeans a hassle, but I manage.” He jokes.

“Well, you have yourself a good day hon.”

Montanha smiled and told her to have herself a good afternoon before she puttered off and he went back to loading heavy containers on a shelf. He did honestly enjoy taking a minute to help people and talk to the older folks that come into the store. Lot of old farmers and their wives, or gardeners. They were always impressed by his height and were always kind, even the grumpier ones, though that may have been because they were slightly intimidated despite his best efforts to come off as friendly.

Still, that was always why he tried to get the loading and unloading done quickly. Because if he did he could just walk around the store and help folks or go to the front and chat it up with his co-worker manning the registers. So, he doubled his pace to get that all done.

By noon he had gotten all the shelves stocked and deliveries loaded on the trucks so he was currently talking with the two people in the front. The one he was more familiar with was Steven who was around his age, and though they never hung out outside of work they kept saying they would, eventually. The other was a girl named Rosie, she was pretty new to the job and was still in high school if he remembered correctly.

“Hey so what’s your plans for the week?” Steven asks, since there was no one around he was fucking around with the conveyor belt and moving a packet of mint gum down the thing, before placing it back at the beginning and doing it again.

“Hmm I donno, I got Wednesday off this week so I might go out? Or I might veg.” Montanha replied just watching Steven continued to fuck around with the gum. He glanced over at Rosie, “what about you?”

“I got school…” she sighed, she rubbed at her freckled face trying to wipe away the fatigue.

“Fuckin rip man, school’s always a bummer.’ Steven says, ‘glad I don’t gotta do that shit anymore.”

“I’ll second that.” Montanha says as they both high five.

“Well at least I still got summer vacations.” Both men both physically recoil at her harsh but true words. Both felt the ache of longing for those bygone summer vacations.

They all interrupted when they hear someone clear their throat, making the three turn their heads to see their manager Pam. She was just a picture-perfect example what happens when a Karen became a manager, an absolute pain.

“I don’t believe I pay you three to chit chat.’ She looks at Steven and Rosie, ‘if you’re not checking out customers. Then you should be cleaning your stations.” Rosie was quick to start cleaning, which did appease the dragon, but she still gave a fiery look to Montanha, “And what should you be doing right now?”

“Well, I already did all the moving, and theirs currently three customers in the store and I’ve already helped them. So, you tell me.” He said his tone challenging.

He knew he shouldn’t be poking the bear, but he just really didn’t like her, so was always more willing, if not happy to, butt heads with her. Consequences be damned. Besides any task she gives him he can get it done in a flash and be back to shoot the shit before she could blink.

“Well if you’re looking for something to do, why don’t you go mop the floors?” she smirked.

“Course ma’am.”

“And if you are done in less than two hours I’m making you do it all over again because you obviously didn’t do it correctly.” She snips, Montanha just rolled his eyes headed for the supply closet. As he passed the front of the store he stopped for a moment.

There were quite a few cars heading out today, so much so that there was a bit of a line forming, not yet bumper to bumper traffic but enough for it to be obvious that a lot of people were making a quick exit from the city. With the store being on the outskirts this was not a regular occurrence and made Montanha give pause. Montanha furrowed his brows as he felt some form of ominous tenson.

“Get going Montanha! You wanted something to do now go do it!” Pam yelled at him from across the store, knocking him out of his trance. Refocusing him back onto the task at hand.

As the next two hours passed, the steady stream of cars leaving the city dwindled. Returning to more normal but still pretty frequent trickle of cars speeding by. But still the air was charged with an odd tension, a palpable sense of unease that Montanha couldn't quite pinpoint.

As Montanha continued to clean the floor, he saw that one of the few customers that were in the store received a phone call. Their words starting off bright, but quickly becoming hushed as the customer's expression shifted to one of sudden alarm. In a swift, almost instinctive motion, they dropped everything they were holding—tools, supplies, even their phone—and headed for the door without uttering a single word.

The abruptness of the scene left Montanha and two other customers who were close by to witness it to look at each other in confusion. Turning to the two customers, an older couple that regularly came around named Jon and June and gave them smile to help shake off his unease. "That was kind of weird, don't you think? What got his trousers?" he joked halfheartedly.

“Yes certainly odd… And what a rude young man, leaving his stuff on the floor. I swear young kids these days think the working class are their personal butlers!” The Jon grunts, bending over to pick some stuff up. “Here, let me get that. Didn’t you recently throw out your back? You shouldn’t be picking nothing up!” Montanha says quickly coming over to take the stuff from the old man.

As he engaged in conversation with Jon about his back and fussed with him about lifting heavy things at his age, June's phone rang as well. The elderly woman picked it up and began to chat about something, and though he didn’t hear the specifics, but he did see as her face turned pale, a stark contrast to the usual color of her charmingly overly rouged features. She urgently interrupted the conversation.

"Montanha," she said in a hushed tone, "you need to tell people to get out of the store. Something's not right." The urgency in her words sent a chill down Montanha's spine, he looked at her with concern, "What's wrong, June?"

June, her eyes filled with concern, replied, "I'm not sure, but something's happening in the city. People are evacuating." Montanha furrowed his brow, puzzled. "That doesn't make any sense. There hasn't been any sort of emergency announcement on the radio in the store or on our phones or anything…"

Still, something just didn’t sit right with him, all those cars earlier in the afternoon, the urgency in June’s voice, the person who earlier exited the store in a rush, it just felt all wrong to him. So, despite the lack of official confirmation, Montanha decided to trust his instincts. With little hesitation he headed for the store's PA system. Taking a deep breath, he spoke into the microphone, "Attention, everyone. We've been advised to evacuate the store. Please make your way to the exits calmly and quickly." he says, keeping his voice calm and even, trying to sound official.

Hearing this the few people here began to leave the store, including Jon and June, who gave him a look that wished him good luck. Pam emerged and approached him with a pissed expression, "What the hell are you doing, Montanha?" she demanded. Steven and Rosie joined the scene, curious to see what was happening.

"I heard the city is evacuating. Jon and June got a call saying we should leave."

“Who the hell is- oh, never mind that! Of all the stupid stunts you’ve pulled this one takes the cake! You better give me a good reason why I don’t fire you right now.”

“Look, I don’t know what happening either. But I heard there’s an evacuation happening, so I think it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

Pam crossed her arms, skepticism written all over her face. "I didn't hear any official emergency announcement. We can't just shut down the store without proper confirmation."

“Are you serious??”

The tension escalated as Montanha and Pam started to argue about the legitimacy of the emergency. As they bickered at each other Rosie began to grow increasingly anxious. Suddenly she pipes up interrupting their argument, "I-I think I need to go. I have to get to my parents."

Pam, maintaining her position, asserted, "No, you can't leave. You're still on the clock." Montanha, seeing how distressed Rosie looked, interjected, "Pam, come on! If something serious is happening, she should be with her family. We can't just ignore that."

Pam shot back, "Montanha, we can't shut down the store based on hearsay. We need official confirmation. For all I know this is just some little prank you’re pulling just to piss me off!"

Rosie, near tears, looks at Pam, "I don't care if it's a prank! I-I just want to go home!"

Pam, unmoved, insisted, "Rules are rules. You’re staying, unless you want to get fired. Besides you’re parents dropped you off here, so you can’t even go anywhere." She points out.

Rosie big brown eyes were full of tears and she was shaking, on the verge of crying. It broke Montanha’s heart to see her like that. He looked at Pam, “Then let me take her home Pam. I’ll work double shift; I’ll work on Wednesday this week and I’ll scrub this store top to bottom. Just let me make sure she gets home safe with her parents.” Montanha’s voice become soft as he asked her earnestly.

They locked eyes for a moment, Pam’s seeming to look for some sort of alternative motive in his, but finding nothing, Pam stoney disposition wavers and she gives in with a sigh. “Fine. Take her home… But I expect you back at this store to finish your shift and you’ll bet I’ll have an extensive list of things for you to do when you do.”

Montanha gives her a appreciative smile, she wasn’t as much of a jerk as he thought, “Thank you.” Pam just waves him off, “Just get going, before I change my mind.” Montanha nods and looks at Rosie, “Let’s go grab our coats.”

Heading out of the store, Montanha opens takes out his phone, “hopefully the buses hasn’t been shut down yet, our it’s gonna be one hell of a walk.” Rosie puts her hands in her hoodie pockets, the green of it complimenting her long red hair, and gives him a small smile, “thank you, for doing this for me…” Montanha smiles back at her, “hey it’s no problem, you’re still pretty much a kid, so you shouldn’t have to put up with bullshit during a potential emergency.”

“Hey, I’m no kid! I’m sixteen!”

“Ha, yeah, no. You’re a fuckin baby kid, sorry. Talk to me again when you’re twenty-one.”

Rosie looked like she swallowed a warhead as she pouted at him, “yeah like I’d still want to hang with your old ass at twenty-one. If you’re not in the grave by then grandpa.” She snips back after a moment. Some sharp words for sure, though they didn’t really affect him, as Montanha just chuckled in amusement, “Hey, just cause it’s true. Don’t mean it don’t hurt.” He jokes.

“Whatever. Can we go now?”

“Sure thing.”

Heading for the nearest bus station the two of them walked down the road, seemed like nobody was around, no cars or people or anything. Still the two of them walked by the side of the road. Rosie fiddling with a rose shaped necklace she was wearing, bored, fifteen minutes into the walk Montanha got a thought and looked to Rosie, “hey, why haven’t you called your parents yet? Maybe you should tell them you’re coming? Maybe they can meet us halfway and come pick you up?”

“Don’t gotta phone.” Rosie simply says. Montanha blinks in surprise, “seriously?”

Rosie quickly became defensive at that as her face flushed in embarrassment, “Yeah? and you don’t got a car, or else we’d be riding in it right now.” She points out. Once again Montanha physically recoils at her harsh but true words, “touché.”

“Yeah, I’m literally the only teenager in this damn city who doesn’t have a phone, it’s such a buzz kill, they said I couldn’t get one till I was eighteen!” Rosie complains, Montanha just lets out a long, annoyed sigh, but he then thinks for a moment and perks back up, “Oh, well then how about you use my phone? You can call them on this right?”

“Oh, yeah I can do that.” Montanha hands Rosie his phone and she punches in some numbers before holding it up to her ear. She stands there for a moment before frowning, “went to voicemail. Hold on let me call my mom then…” she repeats her actions, but again, after a long pause she frowns, “still nothing…”

“Maybe leave them a voice message then? They might be busy cause of whatever’s going on. I’m sure they’ll call back if they know it’s from you.” Montanha suggests.

Rosie nods and calls back one of the numbers again, after a moment she speaks, “Hello? Dad? It’s me Rosie. I’m calling you from a friends phone, I heard there was something going on in the city? I’m trying to head back home now. When you get this message please call be back at this number ok? I’ll be with my friend until then. Love you, bye.” She then ends the message and hands her phone over to Montanha, “thanks again…”

“Like I said, it’s no problem.’ As he says that they finally arrive at the bus station, but it already looked abandoned, ‘… Whelp. Looks like we’re going to have to walk to your place.”

Rosie lets out a loud groan.

Having no choice, the two begin their trek threw the streets, Montanha periodically checked his phone to ensure they were still on the right path. After a while, Montanha mused aloud, "You know, I can't read a real map to save my life. Always had to rely on GPS." Rosie, glancing at him, playful shrugged, "Does anyone even know how to read a map these days?" Montanha chuckled, "Probably just the old folks."

Their steps echoed softly against the pavement as they continued through the city streets, absorbed in small idle chit chat. The usual hum of activity that filled the air seemed oddly absent, and they tried to pay little heed to it at first. But with each empty street they passed, the sense of isolation deepened as their voices carry farther out in the stillness, echoing off the silent buildings.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise to them that the city would be empty during an evacuation, but the two of them never truly expected to realize just how empty, empty would be. As they rounded a corner, the city stretched out before them, a ghostly expanse devoid of life. Rosie hugs her arms as she walked just a bit closer to Montanha, “Man, feels weird to see the city like this…”

“Yeah… But it’s kinda neat too. Makes me think we’re in “I Am Legend” in New York city.’ Rosie gives him a puzzled look, ‘you know? The one with Will Smith?”

“… You mean the guy that slapped that one comedian at the Oscars?”

“Oh my god…”

“What?? I’ve never seen that guy before! Was he in movies??”

“Yes he was in movies! A lot of them! He even was on a tv show, called “The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.” Guy is literally a staple!” Montanha exclaims throwing his hands up.

“Well has he been in anything recently?” Rosie asks, Montanha opens his mouth for a moment, but then quickly shuts it as he starts to think. His brows furrowed and he runs his finger threw his messy, short, messy, brown locks, “uhhh… The live action Aladdin..?”

“Oh ew. The live action Aladdin sucked.” Rosie says scrunching her face. Montanha cringes slightly, “yeah I’m starting to realize it’s been a while since I’ve seen him in anything good…”

The conversation continued on like this, thankfully distracting them from the eeriness of the once familiar, but now empty streets as it cast it’s long shadows over them.

About halfway to their destination Montanha and Rosie decided to take a breather. They had been walking for quite a while and Rosie appeared visibly exhausted.

Montanha on the other hand, thanks to his more active lifestyle, had a considerable amount of stamina and showed little signs of exhaustion. So he was more concerned for Rosie as she sat on the curb of the streets and rubbed her legs a little, noticing she was still fatigue even after then minutes of catching her breath, “hey you doing alright?”

“Yeah… this is just, a lot, I mean I’ve hiked with my parents and stuff but we’ve been walking like what? Almost two hours nonstop? It’s making my legs a bit sore…” She says as she starts to gently stretch out her legs. "Hey, how about I carry you for a bit? I'm tall, and you're on the smaller side. It would give you a chance to rest a bit longer."

Initially reluctant, Rosie eventually agreed, and Montanha squatted down for her to get on his back for a piggyback ride. Once she was situated Montanha stood back up with extreme ease and started to walk. Rosie, taken aback by his strength as well as high up she now was, couldn't help but comment, "Whoa, you're freakishly strong and tall. How did you get to be this way?"

Montanha stopped for a beat, but then continued on as he chuckled, "Lotta strength and stamina training. Plus, genetics I guess. I’m just… Lucky, I suppose." He says trying to keep his tone casual despite a small strain in it, something that Rosie didn’t seem to pick on as she seemed satisfied with that answer.

With Rosie on his shoulders, Montanha continued to walk and listen to her as she started to talk about nothing in particular. But even as he listened, his mind couldn’t help but linger on her question, a dark look Rosie couldn’t see crossing his features as memories started to surface. But he didn’t let that effect his stride as he continued their trek forward.

Montanha carried her for about a half hour before Rosie told him she was good to walk again, so he let her down and once again they both continued on foot. Once again they chatted about nothing in particular, as the city landscape slowly turned into a more suburban area, with nice houses and a park or two. Rosie shared some things about herself, favorite classes, what she thought about certain classmates. Montanha was content to listen, cracking occasional jokes.

Looking at his GPS again he made a sigh of relief, “looks like were only about half an hour till we get to your place.” Rosie also felt relieved, "Oh thank god! I'm so freakin' hungry and thirsty from all this walking." Montanha couldn't help but agree.

Just then a ringing cuts threw the air and the two of them almost jump out of their skin, instinctually Montanha reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out his phone. The screen was alight and the message “Unknown Number” flashed across it. “Oh! That might be my parents!!” Rosie says her face lighting up with joy, Montanha was quick to hand her the phone and Rosie was quicker to answer it.

“Hello? Mom? Dad??”

. . .

“Dad! Oh, thank God-ness! Thank goodness it’s you! Where are you right now? Did you and mom evacuate the city??”

. . .

“I’m actually kinda close to the high school, I’m about a half an hour from home.”

. . .

“Ok, where do you want me to meet you?”

. . .

“The crossroad between Skyway Drive and Alkali Creek Road? ok hold on.’ She pulls the phone away from her ear so she could put in the address, she smiled as she placed the phone to her ear again, ‘ok I got it put in the GPS, it says it’s also about a half an hour away. Will you wait for me there?”

. . .

“Yeah, ok… I love you dad.” Listening to the other end she furrows her brows for a moment, but then smiles as she hangs up. She then hands the phone back to Montanha. “So what’s the plan then?”

“They said their just outside town. Says their not allowed to come back in yet, so we gotta meet them there, I got the address put in though so we should be fine.” Montanha scrunched his nose, “Their not allowed in? Did they say why..?”

“Uh… I didn’t ask.” She sheepishly replies, he just let out a hum. For some reason he was getting another bad feeling about the situation. But he might just be paranoid, besides , she knew her parents better than anyone else.

“Anyways! I’ll totally ask my parents to treat you to some dinner or something when we get there, you’ve been a really big help so I bet they will!” Montanha chuckled, “Well I’m gonna hold you too that, cause I am craving a burger right about now…”

“Ugh me too! Lets go!” Rosie says there was a renewed skip in her step as he practically led the way. Montanha smiled at this, he was glad he could help her reunite with her parents.

Had this been a practical journey? Probably not. In hindsight Montanha may have gotten swept up in the moment when he decided to leave with Rosie. They should’ve just stayed at work and called her parents there. But something had just told him they needed to get out of that store. A feeling that he once again had to push down, wanting to trust the kid. So only with slight hesitation he fallowed her down the road.

Rosie's excitement radiated throughout the rest of the walk as she eagerly went forward, anticipating their arrival. Montanha couldn't help but find her enthusiasm contagious, and he chuckled, likening her to a child eagerly awaiting Christmas day or walking through Disneyland.

To pass the time Montanha asked a few more questions about Rosie. It was then he learned she liked to sing. “oh that’s cool, what kind of music do you like?”

“Oh, all kinds, though I like acoustic covers of songs. Cause then I can try to learn them on my guitar.” Rosie says nonchalantly.

“Shit you play guitar too?”

“Yeah, a little bit.”

“Could I hear a bit of what yah got? No pressure if you don’t.” Rosie grins, “Yeah! I’m always down to sing, honestly I’d sing all the time if people didn’t find it obnoxious.”

“Well I love some good music, so let’s hear it.”

She grinned again before taking a minute to think of a suitable song, she eventually she settled on something as she began to preform her little piece. Her voice was soft and high, it was actually quite beautiful. “You look like an angel. Walk like an angel. Talk like an angel. But I got wise. You're the devil in disguise. Oh, yes, you are, devil in disguise. Oooo.”

Montanha was surprised by the choice of song but it made him grin as she continued. She, seemed to get more into it as her steps became a bit floaty and carefree. Her eyes closed. “I thought that I was in heaven. But I was sure surprised. Heaven help me, I didn't see. The devil in your eyes.”

She turned to him, eyes bright and her smile so big it even carried in her words, “You're the devil in disguise. Oh, yes, you are, devil in disguise. Mmhmm hmmm, devil in disguise. Oh, yes, you are! Devil in disguise, mmhmm hmmm. Devil in disguise.”

Montanha couldn’t help but give her a small round of applause as she finished, “wow, that was quite impressive.” A shy look crossed her face, “Yeah? You think so?”

“Hell yeah kid. Though I am surprised you know Elvis.”

“Uh, who doesn’t know Elvis?”

“Says the girl who didn’t know who Will Smith was.” Rosie rolls her eyes at that, “is it a crime for me to not be as into movies as you seem to be?”

“ Yes. It’s possibly one of the worse offences on earth.” Rose puts a hand on her hip, “Oh yeah? Worse than murder?”

“Oh, for sure.” Montanha states, but he couldn’t even look serious as he gave her a goofy grin. Rosie lets out a sudden laugh and upon seeing that Montanha can’t help but laugh too. Both of them tittering and snickering at the silliness of it all.

The moment soon shifted as they noticed they were close to their destination. About ten feet or so they could see two figures in the distance. Rosie face lights up at the sight and she starts to bounce on her feet "It's them!" She cheers as she goes running for them. Montanha quickly fallows her, not wanting her to go over there alone, suddenly afraid to leave her alone.

Throwing her arms up she barreled into the arms of her parents who embraced her as tears started to form in her eyes. “Mom! Dad! I missed you!” Montanha stood nearby as he witnessed the reunion. Still something gnawed at him, this was supposed to be a happy moment, so then… why did it feel wrong…?

After a moment, Rosie turned to Montanha, her eyes sparkling with gratitude. "Mom, Dad, this is my friend from my job. He walked me all the way over here." she says introducing him to her parents. Rosie’s father looked at him, “thank you for bringing her here.”

Montanha nodded politely before offering his hand to him, “I’m Montanha, it’s nice to meet you sir, Rosie is a sweet kid and a good co-worker.” The father just looked at Montanha's hand as he held it out, but he did not attempt to grab it. After a moment Montanha dropped it with a furrowed brow. Rosie’s mother looked to Rosie with a pleasant smile, “Lets go home now dear.”

“Oh, actually. Since Montanha went through the trouble of walking me here, do you think we could treat him to dinner or-”

“There is no time for that. We must head home immediately.” Her father says cutting her off. Rosie gave him a confused look, “But I thought the city was closed..?”

“Don’t worry about that. Just come with us.” Her father states with a bit of force behind it. Her mother wraps her arms around Rosie’s and begins to lead her away. Rosie glanced at Montanha as she did so, her eyes now holding some uncertainty and even a bit of fear.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. This did not feel right. But these were her parents, right? Suddenly he was unsure. So, without thinking he places his hand on the father shoulder, “hey hold on-”

His words died in his throat.

He could only stand here slack jawed as without warning; the father twisted his neck fully around like an owl to stare at him, the skin of his neck twisting as if it were a wrung-out towel. The eyes once a brown like Rosies were like two literal pinpricks as he stared at him. Montanha’s face paled at the sight as he and everyone froze for a moment.

Then, like the braking of a seal, several things happened in quick succession. The first thing being the father mouth unhinging like a snake as he went for Montanha’s face. Instinctively Montanha pushed him back and the father- no, that Creature – stumbled back. Not wasting the chance, he ran up and immediately punched it in the head, using his full weight and force to send it to the hard asphalt ground.

Rosie then screamed and he saw as the thing masquerading as her mother was trying to make a run for it with Rosie, but it was not able to get anywhere fast, as Rosie fight against her kicking and squirming to break out of its grasp. Montanha sprinted over and gave the thing a hard shove, sending this one to the ground as well.

With both creature on the ground now, Montanha didn’t want to wait and see if they would get back up. Swiftly grabbing Rosie's hand and running. His instincts were screaming at him to get away, and this time he did not ignore it, as they both sprinted off the road and down to the creek nearby, making a beeline for the nearest tree line. Rosie, her eyes wide with terror, turned to Montanha, "What the hell was that?" she cried.

Montanha, his mind racing, could only manage, "Not your parents, that's for sure." The gravity of the situation was sinking in, and the urgency to escape the unfolding horror fueled their frantic movements.

Montanha did not stop running. Even as they reached the nearby trees. Even when Rosie tripped and skinned her knee. Even as Montanha in one smooth motion, scoped her up and threw her over his shoulder to carry fire man style. He just kept running. Away from those Creature. Away from the city. And away from the life they knew.

#writing #fanfiction #my writing #my ocs #Montanha #Rosie #prelude #Creatures #apocalypse #alien apocalypse #FP Writings

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cabinette · 2 years ago

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Please Do Interact List I Think

I dunno if yall are curious about me but have some silly traits I absolutely fucking love in characters

— Strong Jaws/chins/underbites, twenty-plus points if accentuated with facial hair!!!

— Crooked teeth or golden teeth, give that guy some chompers

— Calloused skin or rough spots in the elbows/knees/fingers, its natural body armour

— Chipped nail polish or any sort of faded hair colouring

— Specific motifs that are easy to remember and stem off of when making nicknames/thinking of headcanons, take for example my boy Zeke >:) He loves stars and jewellery in particular!!!!

— Normal-looking hairstyles with just one fantastical feature like a huge ahoge or a long streak of colour

— Body hair..... I love my Hairy Harrys and my Tangled Toms,

— Pudge or any sort of excessive love handles,

— When their outfit is basically just an amalgamation of presents and hand-me-downs from other people, it gives so much sentiment to the character design

— Very subtle theming. Take for example Atsushi from BSD with his huge belt that also doubles as an emotive tail, or Keqing from GI with her cat-like cone hairstyle

— Choppy/fucked up hairstyles that no one but them can pull off

— Extremely normal-looking guys. Like, someone you would pass on the street.

— Extremely normal-looking guy with one. ONE fantastical thing about them. Oh, you can see ghosts? oh, you turn into a snake at night? oh, you have an exiled god for a guardian? and they just go: yeah lmao

— When they're man-made or inorganically made beings who are slowly earning full sentience.

— HUUUUUGE HORNS ARE YOU KIDDING?! YES!!!!! HUUUUUGE FUCKING HORNS!!! SPIKES!!! CLAWS!!!!! TEETH!!!! FINS!!! RAAAAAH

— Unique helmets or face coverings that tell you so much more about their character than just a face would.

— When they're a home for little critters, like bugs in their clothes or sprouts and mushrooms in their hair

— Paint-stained hands/clothes or paint stains in one particular part of their body... I have so many paint stains on my old pants because of how much I wiped my dirty fingers off on them,

— Freckles, and I don't mean the tiny little dots I mean like. FRECKLES. a SHIT TON OF THEM. twenty-plus points if they are all over their body, on their arms legs chest, I fucking love freckles!!!!

— When they fish.

— Slicked back hair, specifically slicked back because if the hair is left on its own it's super wavy/curly and it makes everyone perceive them differently when it's not styled back like that

— Horrible horrible facial scars, ones that change a person's face entirely, one that cannot be removed or else the character loses 30% of their character. Scars that can you can just see the shape of and instantly go: "Oh! This is [oc]'s scar!"

Okay thats all :))))))) feel free to rb with your own PDI lists

#please do interact #hi cj if you see this i totally didn't steal this from you #(I'm lying)#oc #original character #character creation

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traversety · 2 months ago

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things my ocs have literally told me

im not even joking i will be sitting there and one of my ocs will just say some shit in my head. its fucking cool but also creepy

and i want to talk about it! so yalls get a list of what i can remember.

ROMAN

his name was originally keith but he came in very quietly one day and insisted his name was actually roman and that keith was his middle name. he's put me into a narrative dilemma but im not gonna keep misnaming him am i?! NO.

he likes to rollerskate

he does watercolor paintings of dark fairy tale-esque forests and other creepy nature stuff and is really good at it (he wants to go to art college but he cant, poor thing)

claims he's bisexual but has yet to prove it to me

LOGAN

ordered me out of bed one night when i was feeling sick but didnt want to get up bc i thought i wasnt sick. turns out i was sick! it's also the only time i've ever been able to ACTUALLY HEAR THE VOICE OF ANY OF MY CHARACTERS. especially for him because i havent even got a vague match for his voice (i've come close). i usually assign the voices of other people to my ocs and then they talk to me in my head using a slightly altered version of my voice. logan, though, COMPLETELY WHIPPED OUT A VOICE FROM THE BLUE and it was fucking terrifying. you can bet i got my ass out of bed!!! (this is one of my favorite stories to scare the shit out of people with and its a true story /srs)

went on an incredibly long rant broken up over multiple days about how he was NOT a ghost or a villain character but thought of himself to be an anti-hero. he was right.

had to inform he his sister wasn't dead, either

has confessed multiple times over about being gay and utterly terrified of starting a romantic relationship with anyone because he's scared someone will get hurt (and by someone i mean "not logan") so i would probably label him as a demiromantic asexual or something along those lines

revealed his last name to me in the middle of a car ride with no warning whatsoever. just. out of nowhere.

ALAN

politely and cheerfully informed me about being a catholic

gave a long-ass speech that boils down to "i am a sworn virgin but there is no such thing as a consecrated vigrin for guys in the church unless you're a priest or a monk"

despite this he refuses to call himself asexual, which is fine

still bitches about how he gets shot in the side and kidnapped for the plot despite me deciding this at least a year after the fact was decided (year and a half? two years? no more than two years though bc he was made in 2022)

JAZZ

declared himself to be a terrorist but i dont think he actually understands what calling yourself a terrorist means in america

constantly says stupid shit to me in his very perky voice

the first one to tell me about how long his hair ACTUALLY is + told me about the barcode tattoo on his neck

"I HAVE ADHD ACTUALLY!" thats not a surprise sweetie. "oh also my parents are dead not missing like you said they were" EXCUSE ME DARLING????????

ALTAIR

autistic, gay, mechanically-minded, and adopted. that is all he has bothered to tell me

STAR

"actually i'm nonbinary please get that down"

told me their species and how they got stuck with paris in very condensed detail and with a very pissed-off tone

aromantic but NOT asexual, apparently! this. uh. could be interesting.

#mona: text file #oc moment #from the library of an ace of spades #oc: roman keith nilsen #oc: logan vaile #oc: jasper van jansen #oc: altair sandler-mcbride #nobody likes the opening band!#oc: star evangeline #st*rfucker

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momo-crome · 4 months ago

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Pinned post ! !₊˚⊹♡

Hello! My name is Momo, but you can call me just about anything that you’d like! I also use she/ he/ they pronouns. I'm a very much beginner artist / writer but hopefully with this site I'll be able to get better. You may not remember following me but that's just because I had previously gone under a different alias b4 so that's proballlly the reason ehehe ( •̯́ ₃ •̯̀)

Oh and before I forget! I feel like it's important for me to state that I am in fact a minor !

Accounts !!

ˋ°•*⁀➷ pinterest

ˋ°•*⁀➷ ao3

ˋ°•*⁀➷ c.ai

ˋ°•*⁀➷ discord : Momo_Crome

Side blogs !!

ˋ°•*⁀➷ @momo-reblogz

ˋ°•*⁀➷ @momo-ramblez

ˋ°•*⁀➷ @momo-doez-art

ˋ°•*⁀➷ @momo-doez-writin ((heavy wip blog!))

Main info :

┈❥ Alr so im gonna start off with my art! My art style does change every five seconds but I'm working on it. While I hope to get at least 1-2 pieces posted per week, I am open to any art requests that people give me! Granted, i cannot promise that i will do them since i'm not getting paid BUT i do plan on doing royale high art coms! This post will be updated once I figure out commission prices !!

┈❥along with art, i do in fact dapple into writing every now and again! Not to say that i do it as consistently as my art but i've been trying to do it more. If you're interested in more then check out my ao3 page ! its pretty blank right now but I have ideas for a whole lot of stuff i cant wait to share!

┈❥so something i feel like would be somewha important to say would be interests of mine! As for now i am very into dialtown (especially the au i have started to make for it) so expect a lot of that! Also, I'm a real big fan of breaking bad / better call saul so expect the occasional fanart or two of that! Also can't promise no deltarune content rn whoops-

┈❥ lastly! My inbox / dm’s are always open to everybody! I love making new friends, even though im a bit weird and socially awkward at times eheh

Other info :

┈❥ i am in fact panromantic and still figuring out my gender at the moment, my pronouns may change so im just putting it out there! May even start to experiment with neos one day ehe

┈❥ i have an amazing partner who i wouldn’t trade for the world sooo :3

┈❥ you can expect me to post about my pets too! I have the worlds stupidest cat nad i love him so yall have to do <3

┈❥ i want to just say rn that i am a Marla Crown fickin ! i also do selfship heavily with callum crown as cringe as that is,, just sayin since i know that there are others on here who are just like this and i wanna be friends w em !! :D

This is my main oc i use to draw myself with! I do plan on doing a better reference at one point or another but to me its fine rn sooo were sticking with it!

Feel free to ask any questions about em!! If you care anyway- im just itching at the chance to say more hehe

I dont really have any sort of dni !! as long as youre not being an arse to me or any of my mooties then go wild lol! but sadly due to recent events i have had to block certain people who actively support and interact with individuals who dislike me. it isn’t personal but rather i don’t feel safe knowing that fact so please forgive me

important : i don’t care who interacts with my content but if you’re gonna interact with me personally i would prefer you’d be around my age (13-17) ! if you don’t fit into then i won’t really stop you but please keep that in mind!

Although i feel like i should just warn real quickly that i have auDHD and dyslexia so i'm not quite the sharpest tool in the shed! Plus um a few other disorders i suffer with tend to aren't so sigma, mainly BPD n PTSD (i want to add udd)

Thats all for now! Tysm for reading though everything!! Have a good day / night ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

(( also i’ve been needing to redo this post to give proper credit to the ppl who made these dividers so tell me if they’re one of yours and i’ll credit you ))

#pinned post #yap posting #art posting #writing posting #<- tags i’m going to use

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shnowbilicat · 5 months ago

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Old Scars Heal Slowly

-------------------------------

Healing from wounds takes a long time, especially once that you cannot see. Sadly I'm someone who carries many scars and many times they like to open up again.

Alright I'll drop the vagueness, I hate calling what I've went through 'traumatic experiences' but I also can't deny that many things in my life have been really messed up and that they left panaoid thoughts that ... sometimes are right.

You're free to read the whole vent below, but I'll summarize it here if you're still interested but too lazy to read through paragraphs or le tragic backstory~

It's funny that I have another character that was very well liked, but pretty much used as an object for someone else to injet their fanatasies into, and when I mentioned how uncomfortable it was for me, people lashed out. I don't know why strangers on the internet think it's totally cool to take someone else's character and jerk off to them. Maybe they're all kids who don't know any better? But that does not excuse that they're legit hurting the original artist ... me. I was hurt. I got paranoid to the gills, have a fcked up relationship with intamacy and am super defensive when it comes to other people wanitng to do something to/with my characters. Consent is still a very new concept I have the feeling ... and I'm so tired of fighting over other people about what I can or cannot do with MY characters ... *le sigh :'33

Okay, so now for a more indepth vent, yay!!

Kokuri started out as a Sonic creepypasta. I liked the concept of a powerful, stalking, creepy Sonic character, so I made him into an OC! His power made him into a god, his creepiness gave him a cool creepy horror form and his stalking ... yeah I made him into a perv and I loved him to bits X'D

I never had a perverted character and since I was a teen I could kinda explore my sexuality and stuff with him in a fun way- wait why are my followers really into him??

Yeah for some reason Kokuri was REALLY popular, so much so that many of my friends and followers started shipping him with their characters?? Luckily my friends understood that I was uncomfy, but some were not so nice. I remember getting a note where someone told me they 'omni-shipped' Kokuri and while I admit I was an emotional teen that had english as their second language, I still was uncomfy and tried to tell them to please not. Later a friend of theirs argued with me that I cannot control others, especially when I become big ... I hope yall know that it does not matter how big someone gets, people shouldn't just ... deny the original creator their wishes for THEIR OWN CHARACTERS. I know I cano't control them, but they can at least be nice enough to respect my wishes mmmmrgh.

Another example was that I had a back then recent friendship tarnished when the person drew their self insert with Kokuri and I told them nicely that Kokuri had a boyfriend ... and they started to be very upset and rude towards me. Or, ya know, that one time a very clingy, RP-happy 'friend' who was always venting to me about their mental health and family and always wanted Kokuri to be their self insert's boyfriend- wait I feel a deja-vu. But there's more! Bby me tried and tried to talk it out how much they tired me out, even RPing it out with Kokuri telling them off, but nothing worked. So, public journal canceling our friendship- ah shit they made a counter journal pretending to be their sister and how I made them attepting to end game. Yaayyyy~ Yall can imagine how it fucking traumatized little ol me :'333

SO! After I kinda drifted off from Sonic to FNAF it was peacefuly quiet, but I had a hard rule that my characters are not allowed to be shipped without my consent after all that bs.

Fast forward to 2023, I get a chat message on DA and someone was really interested with my FNAF boiz. I was ecstatic and rambled about my squad, since it's really rare to get new people on board on loving my bbys. Soon we pivoted over to Discord and ... they mentioned how they liked Rick n Keith, like REALLY really liked them. So far as to call them 'boyfriend material' and how they wished Rick actually existed and how he would be the perfect boyfriend cuz they wouldn't judge them. And I was like 'plz dun take this too seriously okay?? :'3' cuz I was uncomfy with them drooling over my boiz, but also not wanting to take away their joy. Cuz surprise surprise, they also had a bad life. I didn't wanna take away that potentially could help them cope with it all, but also, ya know, don't be creepy.

Aaaaand they asked me for a romance RP with Rick and their FNAF character. I declined, cuz remance RPs are uncomfy, no shit, but they continued being weird, always wanting my attention and being weirdly talkative about how X character was hot or smth, wanitng me to get into the stuff they like, being dismissive about things I liked, being very non-chalant on visiting them IRL (we barely knew each other for half a year too), not taking a no for an answer, etc etc etc

One of my biggest mistakes was giving into the romance RP some time later. The person managed to talk me into merging two of my AUs, FNOK my NSFW AU and my base FNAF AU. I dleted any murder from FNOK cuz I didn't like the implications of murder and naughties ... but now it was back in it! :D

Also remember their OC? Yeah, they didn't even have a design or name up until now- ah wait they are oddly similar to my RP partner and also they share a name? A fucking self insert?? Yeah, yeah it was a self insert and I'm 1000% sure about it. Also they wanted to have at least 5 sentence replies, without dialogue. Broskies, I was so mentally exhausted by it all ya don't even know.

Worst part? They also pivoted to having the hots for SpringTrap, asing how much animal to animatronic they are, how *ahem* rough SpringTrap would be in bed. You can imagine how little old me was very creeped and weirded out. Nothing against kinkiness, but if ya wanna get violated by a big ass rabbit monster, don't do it here thxx

Or some minor things were that the person was sharing their ideas for some FAR future plots or ideas for the RP. Like when Rick and their OC would live together ... bro, they just met in RP, chill your balls plzzz qWq

All came to a head when I got a very uncomfy nightmare and confronted them to all my issues ... aaaand they lashed out BIG TIME. To keep the next scene short, we had a falling out, I tried desperately to talk things out, but they refused, even though they previously told me to be direct with them, even before my confrontation. I remember very well that they demanded that I NEVER bring drama with them or tell anybody about our arguement.

Over time I realized I was fighting a battle I cannot win. One last time, being so calm I scared myself, but no, they called me a a parasite (for demanding space? That's the opposite of what a parasote wants bruh) and I blockd them everywhere.

Freedom at last ... but at what cost?

I got new scars, because of someone who couldn't understand limits or keep their bloody hands of other's characters just to satisfy themselves.

I just recently saw the parallels with Rick and Kokuri and it really makes me upset to see that I let someone just ... use them and me like that.

And you got not idea how much my paranoia expanded. Hell, drawing love or intimacy are even worse now, I'm so scared to have people yell at me again or be happy about the things I draw ...

So yeah, that's why I was posting some deeper stuff here and there :'3

I gotta say, it's nice to draw my pervy hedgy comforting best shadow boi. I really wanna draw Kokuri with my sqaud more, they'd be so fun <33

Anyway, thank you for reading and also being there for me. While I still struggle immensly with drawing stuff, I'll try my best to get over my fears ... just pray for me to not get another creep wanting to jerk off to my characters X'D

#rick the shadow man #the shadow man #kokuri the hedgehog #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #sonic #vent #art

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dexterouslycharming · 3 years ago

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Poppy's EAH ocs

Augustine Ella - First born daughter of Cinderella, elder sister of Ashlyn Ella, currently dating Dexter Charming, an expert sword fighter and ice-skater, currently has a pet lion she named Theodore

Courageux Lâche - Son of the cowardly lion, big himbo, currently cursed to be permanently in his lion form, lives with Augustine Ella under the guise of being her pet 'Theodore', very protective of Auggie, bookball legend

Nacrine Neptune - Daughter of the little mermaid, kinda a badass, pro swimmer but dropped out of the EAH swim team, identifies as a rebel

Harriet Lapine - Daughter of the Moon Rabbit, transfer from Monster High, always in her own world, makes pastries and drinks that cause different effects, definitely more than a little weird

Dorian Dormouse - Son of the Dormouse from Alice in Wonderland, always sleeping, often found asleep in dorm rooms other than his own its unknown how he gets it, best friends with Maddie, Kitty and Lizzie (as well as the other Wonderlandians), a big flirt but he doesn't even realize he's flirting

Penelope Rabbit - Daughter of Peter Rabbit, a real sweet heart, expert gardener, floppy rabbit ears always, a royal

Sylvester Bishop - Son of the Mad Hatter and The White Queen, takes his destiny as the next white king very seriously, dyes his red hair white to match his mother, kinda a buzzkill

Chancellor Cheshire - Youngest son of the Cheshire cat, younger brother of Kitty Cheshire, very playful, gives people love bites, always wears fingerless gloves, likes to knead soft things, gets into trouble all the time

December 'Declan' Hare - Son of the March Hare, best friends with Chancellor, very mild and soft, doesn't encourage Chancellor antics but doesn't actively discourage him either

Tucker Belle - Son of Tinker Belle, finger guns bisexual, also a himbo, kinda stupid, a big flirt but no one wants to flirt back

Kathrine 'Katty' Boots - Daughter of Puss in Boots, cats ears? Check, a real master on the dance floor, fencing genius

Rosie Midas - Daughter of King Midas, always wears gloves, conceal don't feel, don't turn it to gold, hesitant to make friends, afraid she'll accidentally become like her father and turns those she loves to gold

Kingston White - Son of Snow White, and younger brother of Apple White. Caught up in the whole destiny conflict by associate to his family, doesn't care either way as he doesn't have a destiny, same age as Chancellor Cheshire and December Hare.

Juliette Pendragon - Daughter of Arthur Pendragon, (also known as King Arthur of Camelot). An adventurer and explorer at heart, she's always whisking her friends off an crazy expeditions

Aspen O'Hair - Son of Rapunzel, triplet to Holly and Poppy. First year at EAH but he's in the same grade as his sisters, no one really knew he existed until he transfered. Only at EAH because Holly begged Milton to let him and Poppy attend school with her. No set destiny. . .yet

Winonah Pooh - Daughter of Winnie the Pooh, delicate and easily scared, a grade above the show's main characters, hates social interaction with anyone she doesn't know

Peony Porcelet - Daughter of Piglet, bold and outgoing, doesn't get along too well with Winonah Pooh, track team captain, prefers to be in large groups

Tillie Tigger - Daughter of Tigger, uses her father's name as her last name since her family doesn't have one, sweet, love language is giving, makes sure Winonah doesn't have anxiety attacks, bounce bounce

Sorrel Rosecea - Son of Princess Rosette and The King of Peacocks, bright and bold, birds flock to him, often seen with a trail of peacocks behind him, helps out in EAH's aviary

Emmeline White - Daughter of Snow White, older than Apple, actually the next Snow White, the destiny conflict bothers her, why does her younger sister get her destiny? She's going to make it right. . .

Jeremy Cricket - Son of Jiminy Cricket, the world's morally grey, not black and white dad, rebel vs royal. . . Why can't we all be friends? Choices are hard, think carefully, skateboard king

Roman Wyllt - Son of Merlin, kinda a coward and filled with anxiety, Romeo and juliet anyone? Would die for his true love, hopes he won't ever have to though

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shedaresthedevil · 3 years ago

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I Should Be In Church But I'm Raging On A Sunday

Pairing: Matt Murdock X NB! Reader (reader uses she/they pronouns)

18+ Minors DNI!

Warnings: ANGST, Religious trauma, catholic guilt,afab!reader mentions of cancer/death, matt being a soft boi™, mentions of S.A(Brief, vague instance), violence

Word Count: 8,335

AN: My reader OC and Matt’s first meeting….in the cathedral, after mass, on a Sunday.

This is the origin story of my reader OC and Matt, at least the Daytime one. for my best Avocado @matt-erialgirl , I hope its everything you wanted. Don't worry, I'm already working on the nighttime one. This is slow burn yall, buckle up.

@freshabogados @loki-silver-tongued-god @pleasedin @mydeerprongsie1960 @lexlovescoffee

If you see a mistake, no you didn't.

please leave me a comment, I CRAVE IT. tell me what your favorite line was. What part absolutely destroyed you, etc.

He heard you before he "saw" you. Matthew heard the glide of the graphite against paper, the music in your headphones, and your heartbeat, strong and steady. Even through Father Lantom’s words, he could hear you. Matt could not pinpoint where you were, not with everyone still here for Sunday Mass and not without "looking" around and drawing attention to himself.

“Grief, while it is a difficult beast, can be beneficial. The loss of a loved one is never easy- it never should be, but it can teach us the value of what we have here, now.

“Incorrect. All it does is make you bitter.” Matt heard you whisper, continuing to mark against the surface of your work.

Father Lantom went on.

“Grief cannot be defeated, but we can learn to live with it, as difficult as that may be. Grief is something we must learn to coexist with.”

“Only because we don’t have any other choice.” You sounded resigned, certain of this.

“The lord does not grant us more than we can bear, remember that. Trust in Him.”

You scoff, placing a brush into your ink.

The sermon concluded, and communion was given. Matt was so focused on the sound of the brush softly sweeping across your piece that he nearly missed his.

“Something on your mind, Matthew?”

“No, Father. I’m just tired I guess.”

“Make sure to get some rest, being weary isn’t in your nature.”

“Oh, if only you knew.” He thought, raking his hands through his hair.

Matt agreed, bid the Father a good day, and made his way down the aisle, careful to reach for the pews for guidance that he didn’t truly need. He had forgotten his cane in a rush to get to the church on time- not that he needed that either. Matt was listening for you, and the further away from everyone else in attendance he became, the easier it would be to find you. He wasn’t certain why he was fixated on you, other than him being merely curious as to why you were not with the rest of the congregation if you were here for mass. He was curious as to why you were skeptical, if you were here and listening. But where were you?

The answer came to him as he paused under the balcony of one of the upper levels. You had dropped a brush, a soft sigh leaving your lips.

Up.

You were up in the gallery that overlooked the pews of Clinton Church, hiding from judging eyes.

Between the tattoos, the wine-colored stripe in your hair, and the overtly dark choice of clothing, people of the church tended to shy away from you.

“Good. Stay away.”

You didn’t want them looking at you anyway. But there was someone in the gathering of people you had not seen, or rather hadn’t noticed until today. You were in here to admire the craft of the cathedral, the architecture. You came every once in a while, to recreate its beauty on paper or canvas, and to escape; so you could simply exist without fear of being perceived. But he was here, second row, sitting by himself even though there were a few dozen people here for mass. He was nicely dressed, grey suit and tie. His feathery hair swept up and away from his face, the auburn hidden within the burnt umber strands shining in the early morning light that streamed in through the windows. Stubble covered his strong jaw, and round sunglasses covered his eyes, their burgundy hue casting a shadow on the planes of his cheek bones. The man was hauntingly beautiful, like a renaissance painting. He had not read along with the scripture, instead mouthing every word with his ample lips because he knew it by heart. You had started to sketch him before you had even realized what you were doing.

Did they avoid him too? Why? Was there something wrong with him too?

“Stop.” You chastised yourself aloud. “You’re finding commonality where there is none.”

You knew better, or at least you should. The master’s degree in psychology that hung on your wall should be a testament to that.

I should be in church but I’m raging on a Sunday, lie to confess, fuck it worry about it someday.

You let out a laugh, always surprised at how your music was almost always calling you out. But you were both at church and raging on a Sunday. You resumed your piece, dipping your brush into the red ink wash to colorize his lenses and their refraction. That would be the only color on the piece, and you were grateful you had chosen red as your colored ink of choice today. The man had begun to leave, and you turned your focus back to your work, not hearing his careful footsteps up to the location you were sitting in a few minutes later.

Matt was cautious, quiet. He stood in the entrance of your hiding spot, listening to you work. The smell of ink and graphite strong in contrast to the faint remnants of the perfume you wore. Sandalwood, patchouli and… something floral.

Then the answer came to him: Orchids. The floral scent was orchids. A client had gifted some to the office earlier that week and that was the exact fragrance. Matt had never smelled those three things together, but it was calming, heavenly even. The brush of the pencils and ink across the paper was rhythmic, almost comforting, like rain on the rooftop. He found himself smiling at your small hesitations when you thought about your next area to shade, amused at the way your nose crinkled and the click of the handle of your brush when you held it in your teeth. Your hair was shorter, whisking against your jaw as you shifted to get more comfortable. Matt had no idea what you were drawing, unable to discern the piece as it had no heartbeat, no breath to stoke the flames of his “sight”, but he could see your hands moving carefully across the page. Your demeanor changed immediately once a new song filled your ears.

“You see all the world to believe

That there's a lot inside of me

“But it's time that I'll come clean

I'm not what I seem, no

Some would say I'm possessed, yeah

But I'll confess, I've just been obsessed

With life and death and emptiness, I guess

Can't you see all of the change in me?

The movement of your hands stopped, unsure.

You took these starving limbs, try to see

Try to see what they could be

I thought it would be something

I thought you'd complete me

That you'd erase all the pain that I felt in my brain

If you fill my heart with love

Then you'd fill my voids above

And now you see I didn't change a thing

You pulled your knees to your chest, resting your head atop them.

What do you want from me?

I'm empty, I'm empty

I'm empty, I'm empty”

You breathed deeply, and Matt tasted salt in the air.

Crying. You were crying. Matt continued to stand there, conflicted on what to do. He could leave and pretend he never found you, or he could say something.

“Excuse me, are you alright?”

Your head snapped up, your body turning slightly. You took out your headphones to hear more clearly.

Your hands moved quickly as you spoke, not even deigning to look at him.

“I’m fine, thank you. Why are you up here?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“I’m up here to draw in peace, which you are disturbing. I like the architecture of cathedrals. The pointed arches, the rib vaults on the ceiling, the stained glass. It’s more beautiful without people around to be honest.”

Your hands were still moving in time with your words, keeping up with your cadence. Signing. You were signing simultaneously, he realized.

“I don’t like anyone looking at my art before its finished, so I’d appreciate it if you left, please.”

“Ironically, you don’t have to worry about that part, at least not from me.”

You turned around fully, finally facing him. It was the man you had drawn, up here as though illustrating him with your ink had manifested him into your presence. His voice was… nice, low, even. Like someone who found everything to be loud, like he was trying to bring the volume down.

You outstretched your hands, palms toward the ceiling, and moved them side to side.

“What?”

Matt tilted his head, letting out a small breathy laugh through his smile.

Then it clicked for you, the pieces in place. His hands on the pews as he had walked down the aisle, the way people danced around him, the lack of using the text provided, the glasses. He was blind.

“Well, I feel incredibly stupid.”

“And why is that?”

“Well, either you’re a giant asshole that wears sunglasses inside, or I have been signing uselessly to a blind man for the past three minutes.”

His lips pursed, head tilting even further.

“I could see how that would make you feel that way. Are you…” he trailed off, thinking perhaps you were reading his lips? Matt tossed that thought aside; You weren’t facing him for majority of the conversation, so that could not be the case.

“Deaf? No, I’m hard of hearing in my right ear. I sign for my clients and for… never mind. If I Don’t continue to use it, I will forget it.”

“Clients?”

“I am a grief counselor, with a specialization in deaf adolescents.”

“That is way more interesting than what I am.”

“Overly- confident?” you offered, keeping your walls up. You had already given too much information. You wanted him to forget you were here, forget you existed, just like everyone else.

“No, I’m a lawyer. Matt Murdock of Nelson and Murdock.”

He extended his hand, and you shook it reluctantly. His knuckles were bruised, a deep dark purple like the sky right before a hurricane descends.

“A lawyer who boxes in his spare time from the looks of your hands.”

Matt smirked. You were observant, smart. He would have to be careful with anything he told you from this point forward.

“Something like that, yeah.” Matt replied, keeping his answer vague.

“Why do you care if people see your work? Surely the process is just as fascinating as the end result.”

“I need to have some air of mystery to me, don’t I?”

“I would say that hiding in the gallery of a church to draw has plenty of mystery.” He countered, testing the water.

“Fair enough. I care because I have this unnatural fear of failure. If no one sees the imperfect process, then they don’t know that I struggle to create, even when I want to.”

Why the fuck did you just say that? Why was this man so easy to speak to? Normally you were guarded, defensive, and unwilling to share minimal details, let alone intimate personal ones. Something about him put you at ease, and alarm bells went off in your head. Something was amiss, something wasn’t right. Fight or flight had engaged, and you didn’t want to fight in a church. You weren’t catholic, but you also weren’t disrespectful. Flight was the only option, so you started to pack up your work, attempting to appear casual.

Matt heard your heart rate increase, noticing your anxiety spiking.

“I’m not going to hurt you; I was just curious as to why you’re up here instead of down lower with everyone else.”

You ceased in your movements, a question weighing on you.

“I’m not Catholic, and therefore typically not welcome. If you’re blind, how did you even know where I was?”

Matt was taken aback at your bluntness; normally people danced around his lack of sight like glass. He loathed that, but your candor made him more intrigued.

“I heard you- well your music specifically.”

You head cocked to the side. Your music was not that loud, but maybe with the only other noise being Lantom’s voice for the past hour or so…it was plausible.

“So I guess you must just have super hearing. Is there anything you can’t do, Matthew?”

“Make a successful crème brulee. I always burn it, I can’t imagine why.”

“Funny. Have a good rest of your day Mr. Murdock.” You responded, moving to pass him and go down the stairs.

“Wait.”

It sounded somewhere between a plea and a command. Against your better judgement, you paused, looking up at him now from the stairs.

“Yes, Mr. Murdock?” you sighed, shifting in your boots.

“It’s just Matt, please. I didn’t catch your name.”

“I didn’t offer it. My names not important. Forget you ever saw me, Matt. I’m the physical embodiment of the devil’s own luck, and you don’t need any of that if you want to help others.”

You hurried down the stairs before Matt could say anything more. To your surprise, he followed you quickly for someone who supposedly couldn’t see. You were nearing the end of the pews, close to the exit when his voice rang out again.

“What the hell does that even mean?” he demanded, matching your stride.

Why thatchoice of words? What did you know?

“Never mind what it means Ma-”

You were cut off at the sight of Father Lantom heading straight for you.

“Ah, I see you’ve met our young artist, Matthew.”

“Good to see you Father, I hope you’re well.” You spoke politely. You had known Father Paul Lantom for years; he had been friends with your mother. Had been.

“I have indeed. I only wish I could see her work.” Matt jabbed; his tone equally as polite.

“I could describe it to you, if they will allow me to see it.”

They?

Reluctantly you handed over your portfolio, and Father Lantom thanked you…and called you by your name.

Matthew repeated your name aloud, satisfied with having an answer.

Lantom began to describe your sketches, and you hoped he would not get to your most recent piece that lay in the back of the pages. As fate would have it, he described it anyway.

“They’ve drawn you, too, Matthew. It looks just like you, the stained glass behind you is immaculate. I don’t know how you can even see all that detail from that far away.”

You felt your face flush, stating that you were simply farsighted, but otherwise your vision was near perfect as you reclaimed your portfolio.

“Thank you for that Father, it was quite enlightening.” Matt concluded, pleased with himself.

You turned to leave, feeling the Fathers hand upon your turned shoulder.

“How are you? Would you like to -”

“No, Father, I would not. Thank you, but no thank you. Perhaps another time.”

You continued to make your way to the door, hoping that neither would follow you. They did not pursue you.

Matt kept his head turned in the direction of your exit, knowing the door was only a few feet away.

“What was that about? She said something about her being “the embodiment of the devil’s own luck” I’m not familiar with the phrase.”

“She thinks she’s cursed. She had experienced quite a bit of loss in the past five years. I keep asking if they want council, but they won’t have it. They think they are beyond help, like someone else I know. They are hurting Matthew. They could use a friend.”

With that, the Father turned and walked away, leaving Matt standing there visibly confused. Matt rolled his eyes and rushed out the door after you. It took only a few minutes to find you, your perfume was that distinct. You had parked a few blocks down and were heading for your car. Matt wasn’t sure why, but he took a chance and called out your name. Your eyes lifted from your door handle and found him across from you, standing over your Veloster.

“Didn’t I tell you to forget I existed?” you spoke, firm.

“I just want you to answer my question.”

“What am I, on trial? I don’t have to tell you anything.” You snapped, irritated at his feeling of entitlement.

Matt swallowed. You were right. You owed him nothing.

“I don’t disagree.” He conceded, stepping away from the car.

“I’m sorry. I was wrong to follow you.”

Matt began to walk away, heading for home, when he heard you groan.

“Wait, Matt.” What had you gotten yourself into?

He turned, surprised at your words.

“I appreciate the effort, I do. I’m sorry too. I’m not used to people just being kind to me for no reason. Usually, they want something. You were just being nice.”

He heard the slight tremble in your voice, regardless of your attempts to hide it. This was incredibly difficult for you.

“Can I buy you a cup of coffee and we can call it even?”

“Is it because you want to or because your catholic guilt is eating at you?”

He tilted his head once again, considering. “Would you believe me if I said it was both?”

“Shocking, but I’m going to have to decline.”

Matt gave an awkward smile and nodded, defeated.

“Because I don’t drink coffee. I know a place that has coffee and tea though. I’d like to take you there, as an apology for being such so suspicious.”

Matt flashed a charming grin, confidence renewed.

“You want a man you barely know to get in a car with you?”

“And a person you’ve just met has invited you into their vehicle and you’re considering it? I could be a serial killer Matt. I’m not, but I could be.”

“Sounds like something a serial killer would say, but I think I’ll take my chances.”

"Do you need help getting in? Or am I correct in assuming you're far more capable than you let on?" You asked, teasing.

You were trying so hard to not be hostile, fighting what had become your nature. You became unapproachable, and people stayed away…until Matt. It was as though the more you pushed him away, the harder he tried. No, not tried, pushed back.

Matt entered the car and buckled his seatbelt, you slid in shortly thereafter. He hears the click of your belt, the jangle of keys as you placed them in the ignition. The engine roared to life, settling into a smooth, yet still loud idle.

"You drive a stick shift, and you live in New York?" He chuckled, amused.

"Well, you know what they say, don't look a gift horse in the mouth and all that." You muttered, your arm draping over the back of his seat as you looked to reverse. Once it was safe, you shifted gears and hit the gas, moving quickly along the streets. Had it been any other day or time of the week, you would have been in stop and go traffic.

"Aren't we going sort of… fast?" he asked, preoccupied by the way you were weaving your way through cars.

You laughed, turning down your music even further than you already had to be able to hear Matt.

"I guess so, why? Am I making you nervous? I've seen taxi drivers that are far more reckless than I am." You challenged, grabbing your sunglasses from the visor at a stop light.

"No, not at all. I’m just not used to sitting in the front seat I suppose. Where are we going anyway?"

"It's a little hole in the wall place called Fable Grounds. It's just outside Hell's Kitchen, if that's okay? Please tell someone you know where you’re going. I don’t want you to think I’m taking you somewhere to murder you." You explained, wanting to put him at ease.

He smiled and dear gods you swore your heart stopped momentarily.

“If I was under the impression that you were going to brutally murder me, I wouldn’t have gotten in the car. It’s green, by the way.”

You hit the gas, crossing the intersection and merging onto your exit.

“How did you know it was green?”

“Oh, I just heard the cars around you start to move is all.” Matt concluded nonchalantly.

You nodded, much to your embarrassment.

“You just nodded, didn’t you?” he sounded light, almost pleased.

“I did, I’m sorry.”

Matthew shook his head, a crooked smile forming across his lips.

“You don’t need to apologize every time you forget I can’t see, sweetheart. I have a question for you.”

Matt kicked himself internally; why had he called you that?

You tensed, not only at the proposition of a question but also at the term of endearment.

Matthew continued, hoping to change the subject.

“Father Lantom referred to you as she and they interchangeably, am I missing something?”

You breathed out, temporarily relieved. The question wasn’t aggressive, but the next part was always difficult.

“I, um… I use both she and they pronouns. Either is fine and you can use whichever you’re more comfortable with.”

Matt nodded, thinking.

“So, you’re non-binary? Is there any phrases or words I should avoid? I don’t want to make assumptions.”

Gratitude flooded through you, and you felt like you would cry; someone understood it.

“Yeah, and no, you can use traditionally effeminate terms if you want. They don’t bother me. You use he/him, right?”

“Yes, thank you for asking.”

Speaking to Matt was like breathing; it was involuntary and simple.

“I wouldn’t want to make assumptions.” You teased, mirroring his words from moments before.

The ride continued, both of you asking questions back and forth and talking like you had known each other for years. It was beginning to make you fearful; you couldn’t let anyone in, not ever again, but the more you spoke, the more natural it felt. Perhaps, just this once, you could break your rule.

You turned into the parking lot, the smell of coffee, tea, and sugar reaching you as you pulled into a space.

“This is the part where I’m going to need help, I don’t have my cane and I’m not familiar with my surroundings.” Matt said, getting out of the car and feeling around it needlessly to get to you. If he was going to keep up the façade, he needed to act the part.

“Of course. You can hold my hand or arm or whatever is most comfortable for you. Unless you’d like me to carry you.”

Matt extended his arm, telling you that just an arm and verbal direction would do just fine. You led him over the curb and up the stairs to the upper level where the coffee shop was. You tripped at one point because you were so focused on him, and Matt helped you regain your balance. He instantly felt every set of eyes on the pair of you as you entered the shop, and knew you were blushing.

He chuckled as you led him to your favorite table in the furthest corner, secluded and away from everyone.

“What’s so funny Matt?”

“You’re shorter than I thought you were.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “What did you peg me at, 5’8?”

“I was thinking closer to 5’6 but yeah, I thought you were taller. Your personality just reads taller than… 5’2?”

“I am 5’3, thank you. How do you take your coffee, Mr. 5’10? I don’t see you as a fluffy coffee sort of guy, but you never know.”

“Surprise me. Nothing too sweet. Cream is also fine.”

You made your way to the counter, delighted to see Alexandria working. You had been friends for a long time, and she knew your order.

“One ‘big as fuck iced chai tea latte, no ice, extra whip and extra cinnamon’ coming up.” She recited, smiling upon your arrival to the bar.

“Actually, I also need something else today.” You clarified, glancing back at Matt who had his head turned to the window as if he was looking out of it. You weren’t aware, but Matt was listening. He just couldn’t help himself.

“That wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with the man you walked in with, would it? I see you found a new friend?”

“You could say that. It’s more like he found me. Your best coffee, splash of cream, and… two spoons of sugar for him.”

“This is good. I’m happy for you, I really am. It’s a good sign that you’re moving past-”

Alexandria stopped speaking at the look you gave her. You had drawn a boundary with her about discussing last fall, in any context.

“All I’m trying to say is that I’m glad you have a friend, especially today. I know it’s not for the same reason as the thing I’m not supposed to talk about, but I know it’s hard all the same.”

Alex finished your order, stopping you as you reached for your wallet.

“It’s on me today, don’t worry about it. Go sit with handsome.” She said, gesturing toward the table where Matt was.

“Alex I can’t-”

“Please, let me be nice to you. I know you hate it, but it’s not out of pity. It’s because I care, that’s all.”

You sighed and agreed reluctantly.

“Is my favorite troublemaker here at least?”

Alex grinned from ear to ear.

“I’ll let her know you’re here, go sit.”

You made your way back to the table, setting Matt’s coffee in front of him.

“I hope I don’t have to help you drink your coffee too.”

“No, I can do that myself. Can I be forward for a moment?”

“Are you going refrain even if I say no?”

“Probably not. You aren’t Catholic yet attend mass. You attend Mass but hide from everyone there. Father Lantom seemed very concerned for you, yet you decline his offer for council. Why?”

You stared into your drink contemplating how to answer. You were already in deep, and you didn’t see the sense in lying.

“Father Lantom has known me since I was a child. He and my mother were friends.”

Matt did not miss the use of past tense.

“I hide from the people there because they either look at me like I’m diseased, or they stare at me with this…outrageous look of pity. I don’t want either of those things. My mother sang in the choir, came to church every Sunday. She was devout, honest, had the dirtiest laugh, and was the epitome of what a Christian should be. She loved everyone, the color of your skin, who you loved, how you identified - none of that mattered to her. My mother would give you the shirt off her back, and she did quite literally once or twice. ‘You help people if you can, because you should. Because it’s the right thing to do.’ She would tell me. She was bright, and brilliant and my biggest supporter. She was my lifeline, Matt.”

Matt shifted in his chair, listening. He didn’t like where this was headed.

You swallowed.

“And then she got sick. Cancer. Stage four, in her lungs. She had some in her spine and some in her brain. It was a death sentence. I knew it, she knew it. She told me to have faith.”

You felt hot, angry tears sting your eyes. You would not let them spill, not here.

“I would hear her praying in her bed through the wall of our house. Praying for God to give her strength, to give me strength. To heal her, to save her. I was the one who cleaned her up. I was the one that sat through chemo with her. I was the one who picked her off the floor when she fell because she could barely stand. I watched her wither away, day by day. Still, she prayed. She never wavered, not once. Until it was almost the end.”

“I’m sorry.” Matt whispered, brow furrowing in thought.

“Me too, because I’m the one that heard it. One night her prayers changed. My mother pleaded and begged for death. For God to take her, to end her suffering, to end mine. And you know what she got? Nothing, Matt. Silence. He didn’t save her. He didn’t help her.”

The tears fell down your cheeks, but you didn’t care; Matt couldn’t see them anyway.

“She suffered for five more months, and eventually we moved her to hospice. A week in, I told her that she could go. That if she was ready, she could go, that she didn’t have to stay for me. She died and I wasn’t even there. I left for a class and told her I’d be back right after. I gave my professor my phone and asked her to answer it if they called. They did. She died and I was taking an exam. My professor had stepped outside to take the call, and the way she looked at me… I knew. Everyone just stared at me, and I pretended not to notice, I had to finish my exam. My mom worked her ass off so I could go to college, I had to finish it. I have never completed anything so fast in my life Matt.”

It poured out of you, every detail and you were shocked but you just. couldn’t. stop.

“Today would be my mom’s 55th birthday. She died five years ago. I was 22. I go to mass to feel close to her, I hide because I don’t want their pity. They look at me like I’m a wounded animal that just needs to be put out of its misery and I cannot stand it.”

You wiped your face, taking another sip of your drink.

“They look at me like that. Exactly how you’re looking at me now.”

“Well, you see I’m not looking at you at all. I can’t, but I’ll let you know if that changes.”

A smile spread across your face, and you laughed, deeply from your chest. Matt thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard.

“No, I don’t suppose you can, but you know what I mean.”

“I do, and I am sorry about your mom. She sounds like she was a wonderful woman. The -”

“I swear to yourgod if you say, “The Lord works in mysterious ways” I’m going to throw my drink at you.”

Matt held up his hands in surrender, feigning dramatics.

“I wasn’t going to say that at all. And my god? What about your god?”

“I told you, I’m not Catholic. In a weird twist of fate, my catholic mother raised a pagan. She taught me the value of life, that everything has an energy, a purpose. I think she was secretly a witch to be honest.”

“I find most religions to be similar if you strip away the pretense and leave the basic components.”

“I agree but organized religion somewhat ruins that, at least to me. Some people get too caught up in the idea of a God that the don’t realize that they are using their faith as a scapegoat, as a justification to be awful. That’s the other reason I hide. Half of them don’t approve of me even being there or they don’t like how I dress, or both.”

“Then why do you even listen?”

“What?” you quipped, confused.

“Why do you listen to Father Lantom when he speaks?”

“How did… never mind. Just because it’s not my faith of choice, doesn’t mean something won’t resonate with me.”

How could he tell you were listening, even with your music in your ears?

“Auntie!” a tiny voice shouted, followed by the thundering of little feet racing toward your table.

A small child flung herself at you, her dark curls flying.

“Hello Rhiannon. What is all over your face?” smudges of black paint striped her face along with runes.

“It’s protection paint like you used to do at the renaissance festival!”

“Renaissance festival?” Matt raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Yep! She was a knight because she didn’t want to be the princess. Sir Amaranth!”

“Look at you Rhiannon, you even pronounced it right!” You praised her, giving her another squeeze and a kiss to the head.

“She used to sing to before their pretend battle, she’s really good!”

Rhiannon lowered her voice and gazed over at the piano in the corner.

“Will you sing for us today, pretty please?”

Your smiled faltered; you hated this part.

“Not today, sweet girl. Maybe next time.”

Even lower still, Rhiannon spoke, “Is it because… you’re still sad?”

You nodded, forcing a smile yet again. “Don’t worry, I’ll be happy again one day, I promise.”

Matt listened to your heartbeat; lie. You truly believed that you would not be happy ever again.

Rhiannon made you pinky swear and twisted around in your lap.

“Who are you?” the child demanded of Matthew.

“I’m Matt, it’s nice to meet you.” Offering a friendly smile.

“I’m Rhiannon, I’m six. Why are you wearing sunglasses inside?”

You gave Rhiannon a stern look, second only to the parental glare of her mother.

“Because my eyes don’t work. I can’t see, so I don’t have control of where I’m looking for the most part and that makes people uncomfortable sometimes.” He explained, gentle in his tone.

“Can I see?”

“RHIANNON.”

This child was dead set on embarrassing you.

Matt just laughed, insisting to you that she was fine and removed his glasses.

Rhiannon stared in awe at the blank gaze of Matthew Murdock. His eyes were brown, warm and inviting. He placed the red shades back on after about a minute. The small child twisted around again, cupping your ear to tell you a secret.

“He has really pretty eyes. He’s really pretty.” Rhiannon whispered, giggling into your ear.

“Yeah, I suppose he is, isn’t he? Go help your mom and I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

Pretty? That was a new one for Matt. He had never been called pretty in his life.

You glanced over at Matt, who smiled still at the interaction between you two.

“You should keep him; he makes you happy. She would want you to be happy.” She said, hugging you tightly as your face crumbled.

She jumped down, waving goodbye to her new friend that couldn’t even see it. You watched her run to her mother, a pang of guilt lancing through you.

“She’s precious.” Matt said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, yeah she is.” You stammered out, hands shaking as you signed.

“I don’t look at you with pity, I want you to know that.” He stated, unyielding in his conviction.

“I listen to you and I hear someone who is angry, and rightly so. You have been through hell and back, more than once. I’m certain there is more that you haven’t told me, that frankly is none of my business. I envy you; I don’t pity you.”

“Careful, Matthew. Envy is a sin.” You joked back, deflecting.

“It’s one of many sins I have committed, it won’t be the last either. I don’t hear someone who wants pity; I hear someone who is strong, resilient. It is your strength I envy. You have all these walls up to keep people out, and still, you have it in you to be kind. I don’t know if I could do the same, if the situations were reversed.”

“I am exhausted by my strength, Matt. Sometimes I want to be weak and give in, but I can’t. That’s not how I was raised, it’s not in my blood.” You whispered, feeling exposed at how easily he had read you.

“We have that in common. I just can’t seem to quit, my father instilled that in me. “Murdock’s don’t quit.” he’d tell me. He was a boxer, and he didn’t always win but he never quit. My grandmother used to say that we had the devil in us, the Murdock boys. Sometimes I think she was right.”

“I’m sure your mom was pleased at that notion. Knowing when to quit is a sign of strength, not weakness.”

Matt laughed, swallowing his coffee hard.

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never met her. I don’t even know who she is.”

You nodded, understanding.

“So, you’ve got mommy issues too, huh? Aren’t we a pair? Truth be told I don’t know how I do it either, Matt. I don’t even know how I manage to be kind. I have this darkness in me that eats me alive. I’m no good to anyone, that’s why I keep my distance. That is my anathema - everyone around me gets hurt. I use my greatest sin to keep everyone away, to keep them safe.”

“And what is that?”

“Wrath. I am angry, vengeful even. It keeps people far enough away that they can’t be harmed. If I hold everyone at an arm’s length, I can’t hurt them, and they can’t hurt me.” You confessed, still bewildered at the ability of Matt’s presence to make you this vulnerable. Your heart galloped in your chest; terrified.

Matt understood that feeling, all too well. He felt guilt for even having Karen and Foggy, and now he had added you to the fire.

“Sounds like we both have each other figured out pretty well.”

You laughed again, the melody a gravity pull to Matt’s ears.

“I guess we have. I’m not as mysterious as I thought. Damn, I’ll just have to try harder.”

Matt shook his head, disagreeing.

“You have plenty of mystery to you. I don’t know what your favorite color is or how you became hard of hearing, a tragedy really that you have withheld this information from me.”

“It’s black, but some would argue that isn’t a color so if had to choose one…phthalo green and wine red. I was born hard of hearing. It just sounds lower, muffled, I guess. Were you born blind?”

“No, I went blind from an accident, and that’s two colors. I’m not even sure what color phthalo green is, could you…describe it for me?”

You were taken aback at the request, but thought of how to illustrate the color nonetheless.

“Phthalo green is…. not quite green, not quite blue, and not quite teal. Somewhere in between all of those. It’s the darkest green in an evergreen forest, in the early morning where everything is still tinged with blue, right before the sun comes up.”

You wanted to paint him a picture, one that he might be able to envision. Listening to you talk was one of the loveliest things Matt had heard in a while.

You couldn’t read Matt’s facial expression, and your brain instantly assumed the worst.

“I’m sorry, was that too much? I guess I could have left it as somewhere between teal, green, and blue.”

“No, I just like listening to you talk.”

You were so used to being told you were too much and that you over explained everything, and this man just told you that he found pleasure in hearing you speak.

“I-”

Matt’s phone started to ring in his jacket pocket, cutting you off.

Foggy. Foggy. Foggy.

“I’m sorry I have to take this, would you mind?”

“I assume that’s the Nelson half of Nelson and Murdock? Justice never sleeps, does it? I don’t mind, go ahead.”

You went back to your drink, waiting patiently while Matt spoke to his partner. You looked around, not finding staring, pity filled eyes, but rather people carrying conversation, reading, and enjoying themselves. Maybe it was all in your head that people still looked at you that way. I had been five years since your mother, and nine months since the other incident. Maybe you could let yourself have this. It was… nice to have a friend, especially one that already seemed to understand you.

“Alright Fog, I’ll be there as soon as I can. See you soon.” Matt hung up and sighed, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

“Everything okay? Do I need to take you home?”

“Not home, but the office. Foggy needs help going over some case details for a trial we have tomorrow. I’m really sorry to have to cut this short.”

“Were you having a good time? Shame. We’ll just have to come back another day.”

Matt agreed, you both gathered your belongings, and you took Matt’s arm to lead him down the stairs. You walked without fear of perception and found yourself smiling. Until both of your heads flicked to the left, hearing something no one else could.

“I said no, please leave me alone.”

You felt Matt tense beside you, anger roiling up inside him. Your rage was deeper, faster to surface.

You released Matt and made your way to the alcove behind the wall, a place where no one could see if they were sitting in the main common area. He had her pinned to the wall, hands in places they shouldn’t be. His back was to you, and the woman made eye contact with you, silently pleading for help. You winked, tapping on his shoulder.

“Get lost, I’m busy.” He grunted.

You would have none of that. You reached up, grabbing his chin in your hand, making sure your nails dug in, and turned his face toward yours.

“I believe she said no. Do you need a refresher course on consent?” Your wrath needed somewhere to go, and you felt this was a good place to put it.

Finally, he turned around, moving enough for the woman to get away.

“Go behind the counter with Alex, tell her what happened.” You spoke, hand digging harder into the mans face, drawing blood. Even though he grappled with your arm, your hold remained firm. She ran and the coffee shop went silent.

“Why don’t you mind your own business, bitch? Unless you want to take her place.”

Then he made a mistake; he hit you, hard across the face. Matt heard it and started to move but stopped when he heard you laugh. You licked the blood from where you had bitten your cheek from your teeth, looking up at the man through your hair. You moved the strands from your eyes with your free hand.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” You growled, ripping your nails across his face. He cried out, and you took advantage of his moment of weakness. You grabbed him by the back of the neck, shoving him hard against the wall and onto his knees. His face slammed against the surface, smearing blood along the light blue paint. You pulled his arms behind him and dragged him backwards into the light, so everyone could see the face of a coward. Matt stood in awe as he “watched” you carry out his punishment. The moment you released him, he was scrambling backwards on the hard wood floor. Your footsteps were quick, light and intimidating. He tried to sit up, only to be met with your fist across his face.

“I suggest” you began, grinding the heel of your boot between his legs to emphasis your words, “you stay down and listen.”

No one moved or spoke.

You leaned forward, applying more pressure with your foot. He screamed, flinching away as your fist rose again.

“If someone says no, that’s the end of it. Coercion is assault, keep your disgusting hands to yourself. If I ever see you in here again, I will do so much worse. If I ever see you again period, I will do so much worse. Understand?”

“You’re insan-”

You stomped your boot downward, impatient.

“And here I thought I was the one who was partially deaf. Let’s try again; do you understand me?”

He nodded frantically, desperate to get away.

“I can’t hear you nodding, I want an answer.” You commanded, not removing your boot.

“Yes, I understand.” He choked out, finally.

“Good boy. Now get the fuck out of here.” You whispered, releasing him.

Matt swallowed, head tilting to the side. Matt was not about to lie to himself and say he didn’t find it incredibly attractive to hear what was happening.

He struggled to get up, searching for someone to help him. His eyes found Matt and he appealed to him for help.

“Sorry sir, I’m blind. I didn’t see a thing.” He grinned, waving a hand in front of his face.

You were beginning to like Matthew Murdock more by the second.

The coward raced down the stairs- well as quickly as one could after having his genitals crushed by a knee-high doc marten.

“Sorry about the blood on the wall Alex.” You called back, offering to clean it up.

“Don’t worry about it, you’ve done plenty. Get out of here, and don’t drive too fast on your power trip.” She replied, beaming.

“It’s like you know me or something.” You took hold of Matts arm, sliding your sunglasses back on and heading towards the stairs. The little points at the top corners of the lenses were supposed to reminiscent of cat eyes but reminded you more of horns. Devilish was an accurate word for your actions, and you smirked at the thought.

“You hide from people looking at you with pity, but you can do that?” he asked, waiting until you were both in your car to ask.

“Wrath overrides anxiety, I guess. I will not be a bystander. I refuse.” The engine rumbled to life, and you drove Matt back to the office of Nelson and Murdock. You both talked and laughed the entire way there, finding solace in each other’s company. You parked in front of the building, a wave of disappointment washing over you. Matt saying your name got your attention, and you turned to him.

“I’m sorry, I zoned out. I didn’t hear you.”

“I asked if can I touch your face? It’s sort of how I see, but I wanted to ask before I did. It’s the only way I can make out what someone looks like.”

You looked up and nodded.

“Ugh, I did it again. You can touch me, Matt.” You agreed, sliding your glasses off so they wouldn’t be in the way. Doing so might smear your eyeshadow, but it had already been ruined by your crying earlier, so you did not care.

Matt slid his hands up your arms so he wouldn’t ‘accidentally hurt you trying to find your face’, not that he needed to.

You could hear him breathing, and suddenly your own felt too loud. Your heart pounded against your temple as his hands slid up your neck. His hands cradling each side of your face made you let out a soft sigh, eyes fluttering closed. You had to resist the urge to lean into his hand, you were so starved for touch, and you felt safe with Matt. His fingers roamed delicately across your face.

Your eyes were smaller, slightly upturned from his best guess. His fingers swept over your cheek bones, they were high, but softly hidden by the roundness of your face. Your nose was straight and short, and Matt was careful of the piercing in your right nostril. Your breath hitched as Matts fingers ghosted over your mouth, his thumb catching your lower lip in its decent down your chin, your throat, his right hand coming to rest gently on the hollow of your neck. His left hand came back to you lips, wanting to touch them again.

You were beautiful. Curves and planes as opposed to angles and hard edges. He was close, far closer than he needed to be, and Matt felt your breath against his fingers as you opened your eyes. Matt removed his hand from your face, the other still placed on your neck. This was far more intimate than it normally was, and Matt could hear your heart thrashing in your chest. Matt was so distracted by your heartbeat that he did not notice the one that belonged to his friend approaching the passenger window.

“I’m going to assume that’s Foggy.” You concluded, pulling away from Matt and rolling down the window.

“Hey Matt, that’s one nice looking taxi.” Foggy joked, taking in the deep red color of the paint, the flecks of glitter in the color shimmering in the afternoon light. “I thought you were going to be here in like ten minutes.”

You looked at foggy, and instantly adored him. His fluffy hair, bright smile, and overall golden retriever demeanor made you grin.

Foggy stopped mid-sentence when he finally noticed you.

“I am so sorry, I am incredibly rude, Foggy Nelson.” He extended his hand through the window and Matt scoffed as his arm crossed his chest.

You giggled and shook his hand, offering your name. If he was friends with Matt, then he had to be safe enough to permit the gift of your name.

“I’ll see you next Sunday, okay?” Matt whispered, excusing himself from the vehicle.

“Will you though?”

You swore you could feel Matt’s eyes roll.

“Please, can I see you next Sunday?”

“Only if your eyesight is magically cured buddy.” Foggy inserted, patting Matt on the shoulder.

You couldn’t help but laugh at him, and assured Matt that you would see him again before you drove off.

You felt a weight in your chest lift, even in your reluctance to leave. You felt lighter than you had in months. Something about Matt Murdock was different, and you found yourself unable to stop smiling the entire way to the cemetery. You had one more stop to make before you went home for the night.

Unbeknownst to you both, you would cross paths again much sooner; both of you had a secret to tell.

#marvel #matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock fic #matt murdock x reader #daredevil fic #send help #matthewmurdockhasachokingkink #manwhore matt murdock #slow burn

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deanstead · 4 years ago

Text

Somebody’s Watching

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Request by danipearl16: Request- Jay has a girlfriend that nobody knows about and then they get a case where she’s being stalked and her stalker is killings women that seem to remind him of her and it turns out to be her ex-boyfriend from high school and Jay starts going downhill a little bit because he’s worried about her. Also his girlfriend is more on the younger than his side by 7 years

Word Count: 4,365

Warnings: cursing, mention of sexual assault/misconduct (non-graphic), mention of non-con touching, stalking, minor OC death, mention of injury, angst, fluff

A/N: Please beware of the triggers before you continue reading! I changed some parts to fit into the storyline but I still hope you like what I did with it! I’m pretty excited about this fic so I really really hope yall will like it! It’s my first time writing such a detailed case in so I hope it turned out well? Please hit me up and let me know what you think! Love yall!

---

You looked up from where you were sprawled on the couch, fiddling with your phone. Jay was sitting at the table, a small frown across his face as he pored over case notes.

Jay usually didn’t bring his work home with him but they’d just closed a big case and he had spent a whole week in the district. So instead of spending more time there to finish the paperwork, Jay had opted to bring it home instead.

You smiled to yourself just as Jay looked up. “Sorry babe.” He said, making a little face at the papers strewn across the table.

Chuckling, you climbed off the couch and moved towards him. You stood behind him, looping your arms around his shoulders, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I missed you.” You whispered.

Jay turned slightly, tugging you so that you now landed in his lap.

“Missed you too.” He whispered, smiling as one of his arms snaked around your waist, holding you securely to him, another hand reaching up to cup your cheek. “Sorry I’ve been busy.”

You shook your head, smiling.

You’d been dating for a while but no one else knew. Both of you had agreed to keep it on the down low, partly because of your age difference. Even though you had agreed you’d keep it quiet at least for the first few months, it had been a lot more than that and it had been going so well that you didn’t really want to purposefully invite anyone into this world that Jay and you had created for yourselves. Rather than keeping it a secret, you guys just hadn’t made the effort to tell anyone or publicize it to the world. This also meant that when he was stuck at the district, you didn’t get to see him but on such days, Jay was always mindful about checking in.

“What’s on your mind?” Jay asked.

“Just thinking I’m lucky to have you.” You responded, leaning in to try to give him a hug. Instead, Jay stroked your cheek and pressed his lips to yours. “Now, I really need to finish this.”

You laughed. “Go forth.”

---

Jay had taken a few well-deserved days of furlough, which he had mostly spent curled up with you. You didn’t have any complaints, it had been just what you both needed.

But Intelligence couldn’t catch a break. It was Jay’s first day back and now, he was already walking up to a crime scene.

Jay pushed the yellow crime scene tape upwards, letting Hailey walk through ahead of him before following behind her.

“What do we have?” Jay asked, approaching the spot where Adam and Kim were standing.

Kim turned. “Kate Whitewood, 22, stabbed multiple times.”

“She’s not in the system. No priors, nothing.” Adam added.

“No belongings on her?” Voight asked, looking around.

Adam shook his head. Jay frowned. “There’s barely any blood here.”

Kevin nodded, jogging forward to join them. “This is probably just the dump site. She must have been killed elsewhere.”

Hailey stood from where she had bent to examine the body. “She has defensive wounds on her. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find skin under her fingernails.”

Jay bent forward slightly. “What are those? Marks around her neck? We need to get her to the ME to get the exact cause of death.”

“Kim, bag her hands and get forensics to run a deluxe.” Voight said, as Kim nodded.

“My CI works this street, let me see what I can find out.” Jay said, turning away.

---

“So Kate was last seen at this bar right in town.” Hailey said, walking in and sticking a screenshot onto the board, which showed a camera view of the street outside the bar.

Kate could be seen on the image, her head turned slightly as she waved to someone, a man standing by her side. Hailey tapped the image.

“We can’t find this guy. His face is always turned away from the camera, facial recognition is out.”

Voight nodded. “Jay, have you heard from your CI?”

Jay nodded, resting slightly against Hailey’s desk, his arms crossed in front of him. “My guy says there haven’t been any deals going down. I think we can rule out drugs or gangs. Streets have been quiet ever since that big bust we did last month.”

“It was 28 degrees out last night, ME couldn’t find the exact time of death. But there were signs she was raped, signs of asphyxiation and five penetration wounds from a knife.” Kevin said, opening the file he had gotten from the medical examiner earlier.

Voight turned to Kim. “Who was she?”

Kim sighed. “Kate was a hard worker, she had just started her job as a receptionist at a dentist’s office in South Loop. Dad’s MIA, Mum’s remarried and relocated to New York so she’s living on her own.”

“Have we found who she was with last night?”

Adam nodded. “I’ve gone through her phone. Looks like she was meeting her friend Grace at the club last night.”

“We need to talk to her. I want to know about the last day of Kate’s life. Timeline. Check all sex offenders in the area. Comb her social media. Let’s go.” Voight instructed.

---

Jay knocked on the main door, glancing sideways at Hailey. The door swung open.

“Grace Archer? I’m Detective Upton, this is Detective Halstead, can we come in?” Hailey asked.

She furrowed her brows. “What’s this about?”

“You’re friends with Kate Whitewood?” Hailey asked, without directly answering her question. She nodded and without missing a beat, Hailey continued, “We need to ask you a few questions about last night.”

Grace stepped back to let them in, her face falling as she led them to the sitting room.

“I heard from her parents. The whole thing’s horrible.” Grace whispered, wrapping her hands around herself.

“Can you tell us what you remember?” Jay asked.

Grace looked up. “Kate’s boyfriend had broken up with her a few months ago, so I took her out. She needed to get out again.”

“Were you approached by anyone?” Hailey asked.

“Several.” She answered.

“Anyone that stood out?”

Grace paused, trying to recall. “Kate didn’t even really want to go. She barely looked at the guys… except…”

Hailey sat up a little. “There must have been something about this guy that she left with, something unique. We have a photo of him on the surveillance tape. Flashy?”

Grace nodded, “Yeah, he had this like... attitude… like he was hitting on us but he was making a joke of it at the same time.” She paused. “The last thing she told me was that she had a great time… I shouldn’t have forced her to come out.”

“This isn’t your fault.” Hailey leaned over and patted Grace comfortingly on the arm. “Thanks for talking to us. Please call us if you think of anything else.”

As Jay walked out of Grace’s house with Hailey, he looked at his partner. “This guy’s confident, he’s smooth and it doesn’t look like he knew Kate or Grace.”

---

For the rest of the day, the team had almost combed through the whole of Kate’s whereabouts before she had disappeared and all they had was a big fat nothing.

Jay typed a quick text to you to let you know that he wasn’t going to be able to come over tonight.

You read the text, smiling a little. Jay was busy but it was cute that he always kept you informed. You stopped walking, typing back a reply to tell him it was okay and to do what he had to do, before you kept her phone back into your pocket.

You walked along the street, the same street you walked on every night, frowning a little. You turned around, scanning the street behind you.

You could swear that it was like someone was watching you, or following you. But the street was empty. This wasn’t the first time you had had this feeling - like the little hairs on the back of your neck were standing but you had nothing to back up this feeling you had.

Holding your bag tighter against you, you pushed yourself forward, quickening your footsteps, only letting up as you passed the safety of your apartment building’s front door.

As you passed the threshold of your apartment and closed the door behind you, you pulled out your phone, staring at it for a while. Part of you wanted to call Jay, to hear his voice and have him tell you that you were just tired, imagining things. But the rational part of your brain convinced yourself that everything was okay, reminding you that Jay was so busy and deep in a case, he really shouldn’t have to worry about you.

Ultimately, you put your phone on the counter, chuckling at yourself. Maybe you really were too tired.

---

By the next morning, another body had turned up, not two streets away from the first dump site.

Jay felt an uneasy feeling spread in the pit of his stomach as he stared at the photo of the new victim that was already up on the board. They had a serial killer in Chicago and this guy’s victim type had physical characteristics that were scarily similar to you.

“Jay.” Hailey broke Jay out of his thoughts. “Emma Green, 23, strangulation marks, six stab wounds.”

Jay turned to his partner and nodded. “Did they go to the same club?”

Hailey handed Jay a file. “No, but look at what we picked up on the surveillance camera.” Jay opened the file, studying the photo.

“This is our guy isn’t it?” He pointed at a male figure who was standing next to their second victim, his face still hidden from the camera, wearing a plain cap.

“Hey guys, I might have found a link.” Kim said, walking in. “I checked the employee records and there’s a bartender that works in both clubs and he was on shift on each day our victims went missing. He’s got a prior for aggravated assault and harassment.”

“We’ll take it.” Jay said, grabbing his jacket and heading out of the district.

Hailey fell into step next to him, glancing at him. “Jay, you okay?”

Jay nodded. “Let’s just get this son of a bitch.”

They travelled the rest of the way in silence. Hailey seemed to pick up that this case was affecting Jay differently but she didn’t press further, allowing Jay to lead the way into the closed club.

“Ben Carlton?”

The bartender looked up from where he was, his eyes falling onto the police badge that was hung around Jay’s neck.

In a sudden motion, he ducked out and ran.

“Hey, stop!” Jay yelled, as both he and Hailey launched themselves after him, Hailey shooting out the front door to try to head him off.

“5021 George, I have a suspect fleeing on foot.” Jay called into his radio, sprinting after the bartender.

The bartender barely made it onto the next street before Hailey flung herself at him around the corner, rolling onto the ground as Jay pulled out his gun. “Don’t move!” He yelled, as Hailey pulled the bartender to his feet.

“Let’s go.” Jay snarled.

---

“It wasn’t me!” Ben yelled as he sat in the interrogation room, facing Jay and Hailey.

Jay sighed internally, watching Ben’s reactions and the way he was answering the questions Hailey was shooting at him.

“Those were mistakes, I didn’t do this!” He yelled again.

Jay pushed himself upright, getting up from where he was leaning against the wall and pushing the photos of the victims onto the table. “This. Look at this. We can place these girls at the bars you worked at just before they died.”

“Look.” Ben said, looking up at Jay. “I saw them but they left before I even finished my shift.”

Jay glanced at Hailey. “Who did they leave with?” Hailey asked.

Ben looked from Hailey to Jay. “Look, I don’t know the guy, he’s not a regular. But he’s white, about their age. I noticed him because he headed for them the moment that he walked in. Like he knew they were there.”

Before Jay or Hailey moved, a knock came from the door.

“You guys gotta see this.” Adam said, sticking his head in.

“Sit tight.” Jay said to Ben, following Adam outside, where Kevin was waiting as well.

Kevin handed the file to Jay. “We got another one.” Jay flipped open the file, which told him what he already feared. Another victim, of a physical type that not only matched the first two victims but also you.

Jay looked up. “His cooling off period is getting shorter. We need to get this son of a bitch.”

---

The feeling was getting a little stronger that someone had been watching you.

You glanced over your shoulder but as usual the street was empty. Maybe you needed to stop staying late.

You turned back towards the front. There were sounds of footsteps but you swallowed the lump in your throat, quickening your pace as discreetly as you could.

It definitely felt like someone was following you now. You were almost running by the time you rounded the corner, colliding with someone.

You gave a yelp of surprise.

“Y/N!”

You had collided with Jay.

You let out a breath, spinning around to look over your shoulder.

“What’s going on? You okay?” Jay’s eyes snapped from you to the empty street behind you.

You turned back to look at Jay. Now that he was standing in front of you, it didn’t seem that scary anymore - maybe you had imagined the whole thing.

You shook your head, taking one last glance behind you. “What are you doing here? You finished the case?”

Jay smiled but the smile didn’t really reach his eyes. “Just wanted to check in on you. I have to go back soon.”

You reached for his hand without saying anything and that’s how the both of you walked back to your apartment, your hand clenched securely in his, almost like the both of you had a tight bubble around you.

You could tell Jay’s mind was far away, and it was even more unlike him to come see you in the middle of a case. You knew there was something troubling him but you weren’t one to press. Jay would tell you when he felt he could or he wanted to.

Instead, you just squeezed his hand.

Almost as if you were prying him from his thoughts, Jay looked at you and smiled. He pulled you closer to him, tucking you under his arm.

“You’re okay, right?” You asked, without looking up at him, just as he escorted you to your door.

Jay turned to look at you and nodded. “I will be, once this case is over.” He leaned forward to give you a kiss. “If anything happens, you call me, okay? No matter what.”

You raised an eyebrow but nodded at him, watching him disappear into the elevator before you retreated back into your apartment.

---

Intelligence had been tirelessly chasing down leads but they now had four bodies and Voight was getting pressure to solve this quickly as well. They needed a break in this case and fast.

“Okay, let’s regroup, what do we have so far?” Voight barked.

“All four victims were raped and found with multiple stab wounds. We know he picks up his victims from bars and appears non-threatening enough that his victims are willing to leave with him.” Jay said, getting up.

Hailey headed to the board, frowning. “We dumped their phones but we weren’t able to find any connection between the victims other than their physical type.” Hailey cast a look at Jay, which Voight didn’t miss. “I think he’s working his way up to something.”

“Hey guys?” Kim spoke up as she walked back in, flipping open the file sitting on her desk. “I went back over the first murder to see if we missed anything. Look at this.”

Kim pulled in her chair, zooming into the photo. “This badge here on his jacket, it’s barely visible so we missed it the first few times. I sent it to the lab to see if they could enhance the image and this is what I got.”

Kim clicked and up popped the crest of a high school. “Look, it’s not just a general badge. Look at the year.”

“Okay, that is the crest for Lincoln High. It’s a jacket given to those who graduated that year.” Kevin said, frowning at it.

“I’ll run the list of students who graduated in that year.” Jay barked, heading straight for his desk, his fingers flying across his keyboard.

Cross-checking was the worst job ever but the moment Jay’s eyes landed on your name on the list of graduates, he pulled it together, eliminating the women, men who had moved out of state or country, until finally he only had three names on the list.

“Okay, I have a Steven Miller, Charles Shoemaker and John Marlin.” Jay finally spoke up as everyone looked up. “But only Steven Miller has priors.”

“For harassment, sexual misconduct, and attempted assault. Sarge, this has to be our guy.” Jay looked up at Voight.

“Do we have an LKA?” Voight asked.

“Already on it.” Adam said.

“Go pick him up.” Adam nodded, motioning to Kevin as they headed out.

Something was bugging Jay. Steven Miller. That name was…

Fuck.

Jay pushed back his chair, entering Voight’s office without knocking and closing the door behind him.

“Sarge.”

Voight looked up, frowning a little at the look on Jay’s face. He put down his pen and leaned back in his chair, looking up at Jay.

“I’ve heard Miller’s name before. It was bugging me, but I remember now.”

Voight sat up straighter.

“I’m seeing his ex-girlfriend.” The words slipped past Jay’s lips. “Sarge, everything makes sense now. The physical type, the way he’s building up because his actual target…” Jay trailed off.

You had told Jay about Steven just once. You hadn’t gone into detail but you had told Jay about the short period that you had been together with Steven – his need for control over all aspects of your life, how he had always been a little rough, how he hadn’t taken any form of rejection well, and how you’d ended it the day he struck you.

“Take Hailey.”

Jay was already halfway to the door.

---

You had left early today.

It had been a while since you had done such an early shift but you’d been feeling more and more uneasy while walking home at night and the news coverage on the murders that were happening at the moment didn’t help.

You didn’t need Jay to tell you that you looked exactly like those girls who had been murdered. It was clear as day.

You fiddled with the key in the lock, opening the door.

You felt your heart drop into your stomach as you registered the person standing in front of you. In your house.

“Steven.” You muttered, your voice trembling, barely registering the butt of a gun heading towards your temple before it went dark.

---

Hailey hadn’t said anything but she knew something was off.

“Jay, what’s going on?” She asked. “How do you know this girl’s the target?”

Jay didn’t answer but pressed harder on the accelerator, gripping the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles were white. The ringing tone going off through his bluetooth speaker in the car making him feel even worse.

“Jay.” Hailey said again. “I’m your partner.”

Jay glanced at her now. “She’s my girlfriend.”

Hailey’s eyebrows shot up. “I didn’t even know you were seeing someone.”

Jay let a beat of silence passed. “Miller’s her ex. I should have seen the signs, the physical type, everything, I…”

“Jay. She’ll be fine. Come on.” Hailey reassured him, as he turned his truck onto the familiar street.

“She’s still not answering.” Jay said, through gritted teeth. He’d been trying to call you since he had left the station.

Without hesitation, Jay bounded up the stairs, Hailey right behind him. From down the corridor, Jay could already tell your door was slightly ajar.

“Hang back.” Jay whispered, pulling out his service weapon.

Jay quietly approached the door. “Y/N?” He opened the door with his foot, freezing as his eyes landed on you, sitting in a chair in the middle of the room, your eyes frantic as Steven held a knife to your throat from where he stood behind you.

Jay gritted his teeth, using his foot to slam the door shut, knowing that Hailey would know what to do.

“Step away from her.” Jay growled, pointing his gun directly at Steven.

Steven smiled. “I was wondering when you’d arrive. Put that down.”

Jay grinded his teeth but didn’t move. You felt the cold blade of the knife press against your skin and inhaled sharply.

“Put. It. Down.” Steven repeated.

“Okay, okay.” Jay said, glancing at you before putting his hands above his head, disarming his gun and putting it down onto the floor.

Steven smiled again, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

“Don’t you fucking touch her.” Jay growled.

“I don’t think you’re in a position to tell me what to do.” Steven answered.

“Jay, I’m sorry.” You whispered.

Jay looked straight at you. “It’s going to be okay. You focus on me, you hear me? I’m right here.”

“We broke up a long time ago, what the hell are you doing?” You asked. You were afraid, hell you were trembling, but this was crazy and you had to help Jay to find a way out of this.

“We wouldn’t be broken up if he hadn’t come between us.” Steven snarled, moving closer towards you, his lips almost touching your ear.

Jay growled. “Leave her alone.”

Steven looked back up at Jay again.

“What, you mean don’t do this?” Steven asked, crushing his lips against yours.

“Don’t you fucking touch her!” Jay yelled. “Is that what you did? How you forced yourself on all the other girls? What do you want, Steven? What are you trying to accomplish?”

“All I wanted was to be with Y/N! But you took her.” He spat.

“So you decided to go on a rampage?” Jay asked. You saw him twitch like he was looking for something so you started talking, as much as it made you want to gag.

“Steven, why didn’t you just talk to me?” You asked, trying to distract him.

“Talk? All you care about is him!” He yelled, lifting the knife and pointing it at Jay.

It happened in a split second.

The moment he lifted the knife, Jay yelled, “Now, Y/N!”

You threw yourself forward, covering your head with your hands as you heard the gunshots go off, just two. You weren’t sure who was shooting but you didn’t move until you heard Jay’s voice again.

“Y/N, it’s okay, it’s over.” Jay whispered.

You looked up, Jay’s face hovering above you.

“Jay…”

Jay nodded, “It’s okay, come here.”

Jay pulled his arms around you.

“He…” Jay shook his head, shielding your view of Steven’s now motionless body. “Don’t look back, come on.”

Jay tried to lead you out of the apartment, barely making it to the main door before his teammates appeared. “Jay!” Kevin called, as he spotted both of you.

Jay nodded. “Thanks.” Kevin nodded, his eyes lingering on the way Jay was holding you close to his side before making way for Jay to lead you back down to the ground floor where the ambulances were waiting.

Jay led you all the way to the waiting paramedics, not even leaving your side to get himself checked.

You weren’t hurt, not really. There was a little open cut from where Steven had pressed the blade a little too hard when he had been agitated but other than that you were fine. Well, that, and that disgusting feeling that came with remembering how Steven had pressed his lips against yours.

Voight approached you and Jay. Jay squeezed your hand. “I’ll be right back.” You smiled and nodded.

Jay and Voight talked in low voices until Voight turned to look at you. “And she’s okay?”

Jay nodded. “Yeah, she is. I just need to…”

“Do what you need to do. We’ll finish up here.” Voight said, nodding and clapping Jay on the back.

---

The paramedics had dressed the wound on the scene before Jay had brought you back to his apartment.

After getting you into a clean change of clothes and some warm food in you, you had ended up back in your favourite place in the world – on Jay’s couch, in Jay’s apartment, encircled in Jay’s arms.

You lay your head on Jay’s chest.

“So this was all because of me?” You asked in a low voice.

Jay sat up, looking at you. “What?”

“He killed all those women… because of me. I got them killed.” You whispered.

“No, no, baby.” Jay propped himself up, but didn’t let you go. “This is not your fault. Steven he… he did this, not you.”

You looked up at him. “He even… in front of you… he…” You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, you felt disgusting. He’d kissed you, he’d done it in front of Jay and he’d ruined everything.

You hadn’t said that much but Jay just tilted your chin upwards and kissed you. “Jay…”

“I’ll take it all away.” Jay whispered. “I’m sorry, I should have been there sooner.”

You shook your head, swiping away the tears that had slid down your cheeks.

Jay cupped your cheek again, pulling you into his chest. You balled your hand around his shirt, gripping at Jay.

“It’s okay, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” Jay whispered.

“I’ll never let anyone touch you ever again.” He half snarled, still caressing you gently.

You leaned into his embrace, closing your eyes as the sound of Jay’s heartbeat gently lulled you back into the feeling of safety and security.

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead #resanoona request #tw #jay halstead oneshot #jay halstead imagine #chicago pd x you

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atlafan · 4 years ago

Text

Je T’aime - One Shot

a/n: Bonsoir! I’m back on my French bullshit! Harry is the head chef at a five start restaurant, and he unfortunately has a new manager coming in: Ariel Bardin. They don’t start off on the right foot, and it just gets worse from there. How will they learn to work together? Read to find out! (not proofread) Support me here if you’re able! FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY PLEASE REBLOG, DON’T JUST LIKE, REBLOG REBLOG REBLOG! LEAVE ME LITTLE NOTES IN THE TAGS, GIVE ME FEEDBACK! I’M BEGGING YALL PLEASE THROW A BITCH A BONE I DO THIS ALL FOR YOU!

Warnings: light soft dom/sub themes within the smut, hate fucking (light degradation, but not really???) lots of swearing, plenty of angst, and a tiny bit of fluff, mild choking

Words: 12.9K

Pairing: Harry Styles x OC (Ariel Bardin)

Managing a five-star restaurant was no easy task. Ariel had to make sure all of the schedules for the waitstaff were up to date, double check that the cleaning crew left everything spotless, and make sure those that came in early had set up the tables as beautiful as can be. There were many headaches that came with all of it: drama with the waitstaff, customers trying to get in without reservations, large parties that couldn’t be turned away because it was for someone famous – it’s what made the previous lead manager of Je T’aime quit. The owner, who lived far away, was not happy about this news since the previous lead manager had been there for years. So, he sent in the only person he trusted to get the job done – his daughter, Ariel Bardin.

Ariel was only twenty-seven, but she was honored when her father asked her to take over. She had plenty of experience in the food service industry, and she watched her father run the place for years. It was always her dream to manage Je T’aime, and now she finally had the chance. Being a lead manager meant giving up a lot of personal time, having to step in when the kitchen got busy, running food, and a lot more. Ariel was more than up to the task.

The head chef of the restaurant wasn’t so thrilled with the change in personnel, though. He had a good relationship with the previous manager in that the manager let him run the kitchen how he liked. Chef Harry had never met Ariel, but he had a feeling things would be a lot different. He was very particular, and ran a tight ship. He didn’t want someone else coming in and thinking they could take command. He knew he needed to get ahead of things. He had emailed her to see if she wanted to meet for dinner to discuss things before her first day, but she declined. Ariel appreciated the initiative, but she explained that she wanted to meet the entire kitchen crew at the same time. Harry was already annoyed that his efforts were thwarted.

Ariel was excited for her first day. She made sure to get a new pair of no slip grip shoes that weren’t totally ugly. She put on a pair of black slacks and paired it with a baby blue blouse. Lastly, she put her hair up in a cute ponytail, and put on a little eye makeup before heading out. She had requested a tasting at the restaurant before it opened for dinner, and she wanted to leave the cooks plenty of time to get their prepping done. She also wanted to get their early enough to set up her new office.

Before entering the restaurant, she takes a deep breath. She smiles and waves to the people setting up the dining tables as she makes her way towards the kitchen. She remembers being a little girl and going to work with her father. She loved it when he’d sit her up on one of the counters because the cooks would always let her taste test their latest creations. They figured if a child liked the cuisine, then adults would too. Ariel goes right to her new office, and smiles. Arthur had kept up the family photo of Ariel’s parents. Her mother was pregnant with her when they opened Je T’aime. In fact, her father named it that because Ariel’s mother was French, and her father learned the language just for her. Ariel’s mother passed a few years back, and it was pretty devastating. She was a wonderful woman, and Ariel always hoped to have a romance like theirs.

She snaps herself out of her thoughts, and starts taking out the things she brought with her from the box she was carrying. This was going to be a great day, she could feel it. She takes out a notepad and pen, and heads back out to the kitchen towards the chef’s office. She taps on the door frame when she sees two men sitting inside chatting.

“Hello?” She says to them, and they both turn in their chairs to look at her. “I’m Ariel, the new lead manager. Which one of you is Chef Harry?”

“That would be me.” Harry stands up to shake her hand.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you. So, that makes you Chef Garrett, right?” She says to the other man.

“Correct, I’m the sous chef, it’s nice to meet you, Ariel.” He shakes her hand as well.

“Wonderful, is everything ready for the tasting? The menu’s changed a lot over the years, and I want to see if it needs anymore.”

“With all due respect,” Harry starts, “the menu’s more than perfect. It changes seasonally as is.” He crosses his arms.

“With all due respect, Chef, I don’t particularly care.” She smirks and crosses her own arms. “I’ve worked hard to get here, and my father finally trusts me to take care of this place. I’m not going to make him regret it. Now, if I like everything, then nothing will need to change. But I’ve got a couple of ideas I may like to try out, and you’ll have to deal with it when the time comes.” She smiles and leaves the office.

Harry and Garrett share a look, and follow her out. A few of the other cooks had already set up the plates for the tasting. Ariel greeted all of them warmly, and started tasting the food. She was impressed, for the most part, but she definitely had notes.

“These mashed potatoes could be whipped a bit more…possibly with more sour cream?” She says. “And this chicken…more seasoning could do it some good. The salmon is excellent, though, just delicious.”

“Chef Harry prepared that.” One of the cooks says, and Ariel looks back at Harry who had a smirk on his face.

Ariel narrows her eyes at him, and then turns her attention back to the food. She enjoyed the pasta dishes, but she makes a face when she gets to the steak frites.

“What…what are these?” Ariel asks as she points at the fries.

“French fries.” Garrett says.

“Mhm, yeah, they should be steak fries, freshly made. These look like they were frozen before.”

“Because they are.” Harry says. “They’re more cost effective. We season them after they’re fried, and they’re great for when kids come in.”

“Kids like steak fries just the same. I want fresh cut potatoes used. They’re more authentic. This isn’t a fast food restaurant. You already have to order potatoes for the mashed potatoes, right? I bet we’d get a discount if we order a larger quantity. We can talk it about it later.”

After tasting a few more things, and thanking the cooks, Ariel heads into the dining room to start greeting the waitstaff. Things felt a lot less hostile with them. Harry was fuming in his office with Garrett.

“It’s her first day and she already wants to change things! And the worst part is, she’s completely right about the bloody fries.” Harry huffs. “Steak fries would be ten times better!”

“Chill, Harry. She just needs to see how well you run things while it’s busy, and she’ll understand her place here. This is your kitchen.”

“Right, good idea. Her real job is to manage the waitstaff.”

Ariel was on fire. It was a busy night because blackened salmon was the special. She was helping run food, and the waitstaff was extremely impressed. The previous manager rarely helped liked that. She was even running bread and water to tables, starting off orders, and helping seat. She even went behind the bar to help get drinks to tables, and help the bartenders catch up. It was a great first impression. She was exhausted by the time she got to sit in her office at the end of the night. She sat with the head hostess to go over the receipts before cutting her for the night. Her last task was to make sure the kitchen was closed down properly after locking up the safe.

“Ariel?” One of the cooks asks her as she steps out. “Would like anything for dinner before start to throw things away?”

“Throw things away?” She furrows her brows. “I have food at home, thank you, but don’t throw anything out. Surely we can start up a makeshift compost before getting a real one.”

“Oh, well, we don’t throw everything away, just-“

“Can you let me see all of the leftovers that usually get put in the trash?”

The cook nods, and she follows him. Harry was in his office checking over what the most popular orders of the night was, and getting some paperwork done. He notices Ariel speaking with Eddy, and he sighs. He gets up, and makes his way to where they are.

“Is there any particular reason your keeping Eddy from his sidework?” Harry asks her.

“I asked him to show me what usually gets thrown out. This could easily be donated or used for compost. I’ll be coming in early tomorrow to set up a new compost area, and I’ll be talking with the local food kitchens to see what they need. This is good food, and it shouldn’t be wasted.” She crosses her arms. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“Why,” he sucks his teeth, “Come to my office when you’re done telling my staff what to do, we need to talk.” Harry turns on his heel and goes into his office, nearly slamming the door.

Ariel helps the kitchen and dish crew clean a few things up, earning herself even more brownie points, before going into Harry’s office. He doesn’t look up at her until she clears her throat.

“You wanted to talk?” She says.

“Yeah, have a seat.”

“I’d prefer to stand, thanks.”

Harry turns in his seat, and looks up at her.

“Are you and I going to have a problem?” He asks, standing up, towering over her, but she stands her ground.

“I don’t know, are we? Are you seriously going to tell me that you never thought of composting?”

“It’s expensive. We find other ways to stay green, though. You would have known that if you had gone to dinner with me. I could have told you everything you needed to know. But no, you blew me off, and decided to find every possible way to embarrass me and undermine me in front of my staff.”

“Look, Chef, I’m sorry if you feel disrespected, that wasn’t my intention. I just think a lot of changes need to be made. I spoke with the dining staff just the same, it wasn’t just your staff. This place means a lot to me, and I just want to make sure it’s being run well. I…I didn’t think a dinner would be appropriate for us.”

“Why? It’s not like I was asking you out on a date.” He scoffs.

“No, but I just assumed you were going to try to schmooze me or something, and I didn’t want to deal with it. Am I wrong in thinking you were going to try to work me over?”

“It wasn’t to work you over, but the last manager and I sort of had an understanding.”

“Which was what?”

“I do my thing, he does his, and we don’t get into each other’s hair.”

“Well, that’s not how this is going to work.” She gestures between the two of them. “I don’t want things getting hostile between us, for the sake of the staff. I didn’t think we’d be best friends or anything…but I was hoping we’d at least get along.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen. Not a great first impression.” He crosses his arms.

“Same could be said to you.” She scoffs. “If you start doing things better, then I won’t have a reason to talk to you. So, do better, Chef.” She looks him up and down, and then leaves his office.

Harry wanted to pull his hair out. This woman was going to make his life a living hell, he could feel it.

“What kind of a name is Ariel, anyways?” Garrett scoffs a week or so later. He was in charge of the new composter, and he wasn’t thrilled about it.

“I know! We her parents big fans of The Little Mermaid?” Harry chuckles.

“It’s French.” Ariel says, entering Harry’s office. “And it’s a family name. My grandmother’s name was Ariel, and my mother named me after her.” She looks at both of them and smirks. “And, Ariel just so happens to be my favorite Disney princess, so it’s an honor on many accounts.”

“Did you need something?” Garrett asks her.

“Yes, actually. I wanted to talk about Passover, it’s coming up and we need to talk about a kosher menu.”

“Seems like something for just the two of you to discuss.” Garrett says, and leaves quickly. Ariel takes his seat.

“A kosher menu, huh? Don’t you need a separate kitchen for that?”

“Not necessarily. I was just sort of thinking we could offer some different specials throughout the week.”

“Like what?”

“I’ve got a killer brisket recipe, we could offer a matzah ball soup too. There’s lots of stuff we could whip up. Oh! Macaroons would be good, and maybe some matzah bark as well. I’ve got recipes for all of it if you’re game.”

“When’s Passover?” He sighs and looks at the calendar on the wall.

“At the end of March, plenty of time to order what we need.”

“You know we do a brunch on Easter, right?”

“Yes, I’m aware.” She nods. “If we do for one, we should do for others.”

“If you email me the recipes, I can work on them.”

“Alright, I can do that. I ask that you don’t tweak them. They’re family recipes and I promise they’re golden.”

“One of our cooks is Jewish, he can work on them. I’ll be focused on the brunch food.”

“Oh…well, great, okay.” She stands up. “Thanks for hearing me out. I think a lot of our customers will be excited, and it’ll being good attention.”

“Listen, uh…I’m sorry about Garrett and I before. We were just-“

“Don’t.” She shakes her head. “I know you both don’t like me. I’m a bossy bitch that’s come in and made things difficult, I get it. This isn’t my first male-led restaurant that I’ve managed.”

“Hey, I’ve got no problem with women in charge.” Harry stands up. “You just came in like a bull.”

“Aw, would you have preferred if I pouted my lips and batted my eyes at you, and asked pretty please?” She pouts her lips and bats her eyes at him, making his mouth fall open. She smirks at him and shakes her head. “It’s too easy.” She laughs and leaves his office.

If he couldn’t stand her before, he definitely couldn’t stand her now.

It really pissed Harry off at how much the Passover food was liked. The restaurant had never been busier, getting completely booked with reservations from patrons that had never been before, but heard about the diverse specials. Then there was the Easter brunch. Ariel walked in with her hair half pulled up, and the rest of it flowing. She was wearing this gorgeous pastel pink blouse along with some navy slacks. She was dolled up for the holiday. She pumped up the staff during the pre-meal chat, and then she started running around with coffee carafes to help out the busy staff.

It was an elegant brunch, and Harry was also dressed up because the head chef usually went around the dining room checking in with the patrons. He wore his nicest chef’s jacket, and made sure his hair wasn’t too out of sorts before he went into the dining room. Ariel had never seen him be so personable. He was genuinely laughing with people at their tables, she couldn’t believe it.

Ariel was tired, but her customers were happy, and she got to go home around four, which was a blessing in disguise. She couldn’t wait to get home and flop herself onto her bed. She just needed to put the cash in the safe, and check the receipts.

“Is there any lobster mac ‘n cheese left?” She asks as she walks over to the line.

“Got a pan of it right here.” Eddy smiles at her.

“Amazing, I’ve been looking forward to it all day.” She scoops some into a to-go container, and adds a couple of other things she wanted.

“Why is that you always like the food I make the best?” Harry smirks as he also fills up a container for himself.

“I’m not too big to admit you’re a very talented chef, Harry.” She says and looks at him. “It’s your personality that could use some work, Happy Easter.” She smiles at him. “Great job today, everyone!” She exclaims before making her way back to her office.

“Man, did you see Ari’s tits in that shirt today?” One cook says to another.

“Her tits? I was too busy sneaking a peek at that ass of hers. Wouldn’t mind tapping it.”

“Oi.” Harry says to them. “None of that, alright? It’s rude.”

“C’mon, Chef.” One of the cooks says. “I know you don’t like her, but even you can admit she’s hot.”

“Do you all want to get out of here on time to see your families?!” Harry shouts. “Finish cleaning up.” He huffs, and goes back to his own office.

“He’s not wrong.” Garrett says to the cooks. “Don’t be disrespectful.”

“Yeah.” Eddy chimes in. “Don’t think your girlfriends would appreciate it very much if they knew you were talking about another woman like that.”

Harry was about to head out for the day. He was going to go home and cuddle up with cat, Luna, and veg out. He walks by Ariel’s office, and he stops short. He sees her sitting with her face in her hands. He looks around behind him, they were the last two people there.

“Hey, are you alright?” He says as he opens the door, and she jumps in her chair a bit, obviously startled.

“Yeah.” She wipes under eyes. “I’m fine, why?”

“You just…were you crying?”

“No, don’t be silly.” She wipes under eyes again. “I’m just a little sweaty, I ran around a ton today.”

“How was the mac ‘n cheese?”

“I haven’t eaten it yet, I’m bringing it home…”

“When are you headed out?”

“Soon.”

“I can wait for you, if you want…”

“I’m all set.”

“Ariel, if something’s wrong-“

“Nothing’s wrong! Go home, Harry! I’m just finishing some things up.”

“You know something, you are a bitch.” He puts his hands on his hips. “I was just trying to be nice, and you have to be so nasty about it!”

“Right, because I need a fuckwad like you checking on me.” She rolls her eyes. She takes her leftovers and puts them in the trash.

“What are you doing?!”

“I’ve lost my appetite.” She says, standing up, grabbing her purse, and brushing by him on her way out.

Harry was shocked Ariel hadn’t turned his hair white with how much she stressed him out. The interaction they had pissed him off to no end. He had defended her, told his staff not to talk about her a certain way. Then, when he sees her in distress, she’s as ungrateful as ever. He tried calming down in the shower, but that didn’t work. He tried watching TV with Luna, but he just wanted to know what she had been so upset about in the first place.

He takes out his phone, and searches her on Facebook. He figured she must have one, if not he would search Instagram. He rolls his eyes when he sees how gorgeous she looks in her profile picture. She had most of her privacy settings on, but his eyes widen when he sees her tagged in a post. It was written in French.

Il y a quinze ans aujourd'hui, nous avons perdu notre Nana Ariel. Comme elle nous manque tellement, et nos étés avec elle sur les plages françaises.

Harry only understood a few words, so he taps the translate button: Fifteen years ago today, we lost our Nana Ariel. How we miss her so, and our summers with her on the French beaches. He furrows his eyebrows at the photos. It must have been a cousin that tagged Ariel. Her nana looked like a lovely woman.

“Shit.” Harry sighs. Ariel was probably putting on a brave face all day. He knew her mother had passed, but he wasn’t sure about her grandmother. Her female figures were gone, and he called her a bitch to her face. He felt terrible. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Harry gets off his couch and goes into his kitchen. An hour or so later, he’s driving to Ariel’s house to deliver a fresh lobster mac n’ cheese. He was lucky he knew her address. She lived in a quaint neighborhood. He pulls up out front, and goes up to her door, ringing the bell. After a few moments she opens the door. She was in a long robe, and slippers. Her hair was up in a bun on the top of her head.

“Harry?”

“Here, feel better.” He practically shoves the casserole dish into her arms. “And…I’m sorry I said that to you, okay?”

“What is this?”

“Lobster mac n’ cheese. You threw yours out because I was being an ass…but to be fair you snapped at me first.”

“What made you do this?”

“The Easter bunny came to me in a dream, alright? It doesn’t matter, just take it and eat it. M’sure you don’t feel like cooking after such a long day.”

“Well, you’re right.” She raises an eyebrow at him. “I’ll take it, thank you. I shouldn’t have been so short with you.”

“I shouldn’t have tried to pry. I’ll see you Tuesday.”

“Yeah….” She almost invited him to have some with her, but as nice as the gesture was, she didn’t really feel like spending anymore time with him today. So she lets him leave.

Harry was back on his couch in no time with Luna, feeling much better than he did before. He feels his phone buzz, and he looks down to check his notifications.

Ariel Bardin: I don’t know what makes me more furious, the fact that you’re an incredible cook, or the fact that such a simple dish could make me feel ten times better

Harry smirks down at the message. This didn’t change anything between the two of them, but Harry felt a little better knowing there was a bit of a common ground between them now. They didn’t have to like one another, but maybe there would be a bit more respect.

There was a respect between them, but the two still bickered and argued and made things difficult for one another. He’d call her a spoiled brat, and she’d call him a fat headed fuck, it was just their thing. No one in the kitchen seemed to mind, especially because if Harry was yelling at her, then he wasn’t yelling at them. Garrett had warmed up to Ariel considerably over the last few months. He was starting to see that she really did mean well, and over time the changes she made were for the better.

A lot of people understood why Ariel and Harry butted heads so much. They both had dominant personalities, and kitchens were hot. Usually one of them would go into the walk-in fridge, and come out much more cooled down. As the summer months started, it just got worse.

“I’m not sending out wilted lettuce!” Harry screamed at her.

“It’s not wilted!” Ariel screamed back.

“Did you go to culinary school?! You’re not the fucking expert, I am!”

“So, you’re just going to chuck perfectly good lettuce because you think it’s wilted! Put your fucking glasses on!”

“Enough!” Garrett yells. “We’ll double check the lettuce and make sure none of the dingier looking pieces get sent out. Take a break, the kids are getting scared.” He was referring to the kitchen staff, and to the few waitstaff that were in the kitchen.

They both growl and walk away from one another. They stayed away from each other for the rest of the night. Ariel was there late catching up on some paperwork. She jumped when she heard something fall on the ground. She thought everyone had gone home for the night. When she goes out to the kitchen to see Harry, she sighs with relief.

“Scared the shit out of me, what are you still doing here?” She storms over to him.

“Prepping the dinner roll dough so it’s ready to go for tomorrow. It’s been too hot to make it in the morning. The prep cooks can just come in and use the ovens while it’s still cool if the dough’s already set and proofed.” He says as he continues to knead the dough on the counter.

“Why not have someone else do it?”

“Why should I make someone else stay late?” He scoffs.

“Well…here, I’ll get an apron so I can help.”

“I’m all set.”

“Don’t be silly, it’ll help you get out of here faster.”

“What do you care about that?”

“God, you’re so stubborn.” She goes to wash her hands, and steps over to the dough, but he swats her hand away when she goes to reach for it.

“Go home, Ariel.”

“What the fuck is your problem?!”

“You! You’re my fucking problem! Cooking is supposed to be relaxing, this is my me time, and you’re ruining it!”

“Well, excuse me for offering to help!”

“I don’t need your help!” He slams a fist down on the counter, causing flour to splatter onto her chest and face. “Oops.” He smirks.

Ariel wipes her face off, gathers a bit of flour, and flicks it into Harry’s face. He takes a deep breath and looks at her.

“Oops.” She says in the same mocking tone he had.

“You know, for someone who hates wasting food, I’d think you’d be more careful.” He says, wiping his face off. “It was an accident when I did it.”

“Oh well.” She shrugs.

“You,” he starts walking towards her, backing her up to the opposite counter, “are one of the most infuriating people I have ever met.” They were practically chest to chest. She could feel his breath fanning over her face. “I wish you never started working here.”

“You know what they say, can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.” She says, looking up at him with a searing gaze.

“It’s my kitchen, you get out.”

“Make me.”

Harry’s eyes widen, and his nostrils flare. He was about ready to boil over. He’s not sure what comes over him, but his flour covered hands reach up to cup her cheeks, and he leans down to kiss her roughly, pressing her further against the counter. She gasps as he does it, but she doesn’t fight him. She doesn’t push him away, she doesn’t do a thing to get him to stop. In fact, she reaches to tug at his shirt so he could be even closer to her. She could taste the mint from his gum, and his lips were insanely soft. He breaks the kiss first, but doesn’t move her hands from her face.

She opens her mouth to speak, possibly to question him on why he kissed her, but she doesn’t get the chance because he’s kissing her again, this time licking into her mouth. She pushes against him, backing him up to the opposite counter, and he grunts against her. Her arms move to wrap around his neck, and her fingers tug at his hair. Just as she was sucking on his tongue, he shoves her up against a nearby wall, and lifts her up. She wraps her legs around his waist, and he carries her over to a counter to sit her on.

Their lips hadn’t parted, and they both needed air, but neither could stop. Harry kisses sloppily towards her neck, and she bites on her bottom lip to suppress a whimper. She reaches down to untie the apron he had on, and she tugs it off. His hands work to undo her pants just as he bites down on the crook of her neck, making her gasp.

“Lift your hips ups.” He says into her ear before nibbling onto her lobe. She does as he says so he can tug her pants down. He places his hands on her thighs, and scratches his nails down them before looking at her. “You want this?” She nods yes at him. “Need you to actually say it. I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want.”

“I want it.” Her cheeks flush. “Happy now?”

“Very.” He growls, and bites down on her bottom lip before letting it snap back. He reaches between her legs, and he groans. “You’re soaked, did yelling at me rile you up?”

“No.” She blushes, and then tugs at his hair. “Stop talking before I change my mind.”

He tugs her panties to the side so he can get a real feel for how wet she is. He plunges two fingers inside of her, and her mouth falls open. Her head rolls back as he pumps them in and out of her.

“Christ, when was the last time someone fucked you?” He grunts. “You’re so tight.”

“Harry, please, shut the fuck up.” She grits her teeth and reaches for the button on his pants.

“Only cause you said please.” He smirks, and she flicks his forehead.

He sucks his teeth and reaches into his back pocket for his wallet, pulling out a condom. She rolls her eyes at the fact that he’s one of those guys that kept a condom in his wallet, but she wasn’t going to complain too much. She was glad he had one. He takes himself out of his pants, getting them down just enough, and rolls the condom on. He looks at her, just to make sure one more time that it was alright and she nods. He splays his hands on her back, pulling her closer as he pushes inside.

“Fucking, shit.” He grunts.

“Try to last longer than a minute there, sport.” She says, trying desperately not to wince at the stretch he was giving her.

“God, I fucking hate you so much.” He says as he starts to thrust in and out of her. She grips his shoulders to hold onto him.

“The feeling’s, ngh, mutual.” She bites down into his shoulder to suppress her moans, but he yanks her head back by her ponytail.

“If I’m gonna fuck you, you’re gonna let out every single little sound, do you understand?”

“You really like telling me what to do.” She grunts.

“And you’re shit at listening.”

“So are you!”

“Weren’t you just telling me to shut up?! Take your own fucking advice!”

She lets out an exasperated noise, and crashes her mouth back to his. He grips her hips as he pounds into her. Her legs wrap tighter around him to get him even closer. They’re both moaning into the other’s mouths. One of his hands leaves her hip, and he brings it over to rub at her clit. She whimpers, and starts panting. He nips at her lips, and works his way back to her neck.

“Fuck, ugh, that’s it.” She mewls. “I’m close, don’t stop.”

“Can feel you squeezing me, like the way I feel?” He licks up her neck back to her ear, and then slots his mouth over hers, not even giving her a chance to answer him before she’s crying out.

She lets her body rest against his as he picks up the pace. He was close himself, but he was trying to savor how good she felt. She was soaked between her legs because of him. He’d never let her live this down. A few more thrusts, and he’s spilling into the condom.

He rests his forehead against hers for a few moments as he catches his breath. He pulls out of her, and tugs her panties back into place before helping her off the counter. They both wordlessly work to get their clothes back on properly.

“So, uh, do you really not want help with the dough?” She asks, smoothing some hair away from her face.

“No, it shouldn’t take me too much longer…thank you.” He chews on his bottom lip. “Why don’t you wait, though, I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Sure…I was in the middle of some paperwork anyways. Just come get me when you’re done.”

Harry nods and goes to wash his hands before getting back to what he was doing. Ariel makes her way to the bathroom to properly clean herself up. They walk to the parking lot together later in silence. He makes sure her car starts before driving off and heading home to Luna.

Work was…awkward after that. Everyone was confused because the kitchen had never been more quiet. Ariel had mostly kept to herself and if she had something to say, she was less brash. Harry was the same towards her.

“Do you think we could add pudding pie to the summer dessert menu?” She asks him. “Like an Oreo thing?”

“Um, sure, yeah…should be easy enough to work into the rotation.” He says. “Good, uh, good suggestion.” He swallows.

“Thanks, Chef.” She nods and walks away from him.

“Dude, not that I’m complaining, but what’s up with you two?” Garrett whispers to him as they both work to chop vegetables.

“Nothing.” Harry shrugs a shoulder. “We’ve just…reached an understanding, is all. We, uh, hashed things out a week or so ago.” He clears his throat. “Just focus on the your beets for the borsht. I need to get started on that chilled melon soup.”

Harry heads into the walk-in fridge to grab the cantaloupe he had already cut up to make the soup with. He was essentially making a creamy smoothie, but this was one of their summer best sellers. He stops short when he sees Ariel trying to reach for something on the top shelf.

“Need a hand?” He asks, and it startles her.

“Y-yeah, could you get the, uh, shredded Brussels down for me?”

Harry nods and reaches above her to grab the pan. He hands it to her, and she thanks him before making her way towards the door.

“Ariel?”

“Yes?”

“How…how have you been since-“

“We can’t talk about it now.” She shakes her head. “Find me later if you want.”

And that’s what he does. At the end of the night, Harry goes into Ariel’s office and sits down at the spare chair she had.

“So…what’s up?” She asks him.

“I just wanted to see how you were since we, you know…” He looks away from her for a moment. “We haven’t talked about it.”

“I didn’t think you wanted to.” She shrugs. “It’s really not that big of a deal, it was a heat of the moment thing.”

“Yeah.” He swallows. “Nothing more to it than that. I can’t help but notice that things have been a tad more civil between us over the last week.”

“I just haven’t wanted to make waves, I guess. Sort of hard to yell at the guy that made me come as hard as I did.” She says shyly, and he smiles.

“Glad I could finally be of some use to you.” He smirks.

“Don’t get too cocky. I have things at home that make me feel even better.” She smirks and his face falls.

“It was good, though, right?”

“Yeah…nice way to get some frustration out.”

“I think…I think that’s how we make things work here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, think of how peaceful everything’s been this week with us being nicer to each other. I think when we’re starting to get on each other’s nerves we should just fuck because clearly talking shit out doesn’t work too well.”

“Are you asking me to be your fuck buddy?”

“The word buddy implies that we’re friends, and we’re not. I still can’t stand you, Ariel.”

“Likewise.”

“But you’ve got a tight cunt that I wouldn’t mind fucking into again, so what do you say?”

“Harry, this is a five star restaurant. We can’t just fuck in the kitchen every time we get on each other’s nerves. That’s a major health code violation.”

“So we wait.” He shrugs. “We both have cars and houses. Lots of places to let out our frustrations.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“You do that.” He says, and stands up to leave.

“You didn’t tell anyone, did you?”

“Might have mentioned to my cat, but only because she was mad at me for getting home so late. I’m not one for bragging about intimate details.”

“Good.” She nods. “Thank you.”

Harry leaves her office and she sighs heavily. She wasn’t expecting the conversation to go that way at all. Ariel thought for sure Harry was going to say that it was a mistake and it never should have happened, but he didn’t. He wanted to fuck her s again, he said it himself. And he wasn’t wrong, the kitchen had been a much happier place to be over the last week. The only thing was, she didn’t know if she wanted to give into his request so easily. He was the one who admitted to wanting to do it again, not her. The ball was totally in her court! She also wasn’t too sure how smart it would be to start fucking her chef on the regular. It could do more harm than good.

“What do you mean you let a party of fifteen come in?!” Harry shouts at Ariel, who was now putting on an apron and gloves to help the cooks out.

“You heard me! We can either waste time arguing about it, or we can get to preparing their meals! It’s not you who’s gonna have to stay late, it’s me and my dining staff.”

“Why would you let a group of fifteen come in right before closing?!”

“Because they paid up front with cash for four bottles of $500 wine!”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah, holy shit. They already gave us their order, so we just need to get everything out to them, and then everyone can clean up. Let’s move!”

Harry sighs heavily, but does as she says. He and Garrett get to work on the entrees while the cooks work with Ariel on the appetizers. She runs the food out so she can help out her dining staff that were trying to wrap up their sidework. Two hours after closing, the large party left, and luckily they left a huge tip. They apologized over and over again about coming in so late. Apparently they were in a production for something, and it closed so they wanted to celebrate. Ariel assured them it was fine. She sighs when she’s finally able to go back into her office. She still needed to go over all the receipts for the night.

“Need any help with that? I know your hostess usually gets this done with you…” Harry says as he walks into her office.

“No, thank you.” She says without looking at him. “You can go, I don’t need you to wait for me.”

“You’re such a hypocrite.” He shakes his head and sits down. “You tried to force yourself two weeks ago into helping me make some bread dough, and now here I am offering up some help and you won’t take it.”

“Guess the shoe’s on the other foot.” She still wouldn’t look at him, so he reaches forward to grab her chin, and turns her head in his direction.

“You’re, quite literally, the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah? Then why are you trying to fuck me right now?”

“Who said I was trying to do that?” He says, letting go of her and sitting back in the chair.

“Please, it’s so obvious.” She scoffs. “We’re the last two people here, you’re coming in here offering help. What’s wrong, hm? None of my waitresses wanted to suck you off?” She pouts at him, and his face hardens.

“I have never done anything like that with a member of the dining staff.”

“No? They sure talk about you like you have.”

“You sound a little jealous.” He smirks.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” She deadpans.

“You know, when my cooks make crude remarks about you, I tell them it’s wrong and to stop. Do you even try to defend me when you hear them talking out there?”

“Sure I do, I tell them that this neither the time nor the place for any of that, and that they should have more respect for you. One of the bartenders, Jess, she seems to have a thing for you. Her eyes are glued to you every time you come out into the dining room. Why not go be her fuck buddy?”

“Because I don’t want to fuck her.”

“And you want to fuck me?” He nods yes at her. “Why?”

“Because despite how much I can’t stand you, it was a good fuck and I’d like to do it again. This isn’t news, we’ve talked about this already.”

“I smell like food.” She mutters as she gets back to checking the receipts.

“So do I.”

“So, go home and shower and meet me at my place in a little while. I’ll text you when I’m ready.” She looks at him. “Go feed your cat or whatever, I’m sure she’s missing you.”

Harry tries his best to bite back the smug look that was growing on his face. Wordlessly, he stands up and leaves her office. Ariel shakes her head and continues with their work.

“Far too easy.” She says to herself with a smirk.

Harry didn’t end up at Ariel’s place until nearly midnight. It took her a while to finish things up at work, and then she wanted to shower so she didn’t smell like food anymore. Her rings her doorbell, and she opens it wearing the same robe she had been wearing the first time he showed up at her place, only this time she wasn’t wearing her cute little slippers, and her eyes weren’t puffy from crying. She doesn’t say anything to him, she just steps aside to let him in.

He doesn’t look around, he doesn’t compliment her place, all he does is kick his sneakers off, cup her jaw, and shove her up against the wall. His mouth crashes to hers, and she sinks into it. She almost wanted to sigh with relief. It was amazing how simply kissing someone could make you forget all your troubles. She tugs him closer to her, and his hands brush down her body to lift her up.

“Where do you want it?” He breathes as she wraps her limbs around him.

“Bedroom, upstairs.” She says before kissing on his neck.

He grunts as he finds his way to the staircase, and carries her up. Of course, he makes a few pit stops to kiss her, smoosh her up against the wall and lick into her mouth. When he finally does make it to her room, he practically tosses her on the bed. He starts to rid himself of his clothes while she sits and watches.

“Aren’t you going to take yours off?” He asks after getting his shirt off.

“M’only wearing this.” She shrugs. “Thought you might like to take it off yourself.”

“Stand up.” He tells her and she does so, walking over to him.

His hands reach for the tie on her robe, and he undoes it. He pushes it off her shoulders, and licks his lips when he sees her naked body, the robe pooling at her feet. He wraps his arms around her waist, and pulls her close so he can kiss on her chest. He licks between the valley of her breasts before pulling one of her nipples into his mouth with his teeth. He sucks on it harshly, eliciting a soft moan from her. He walks them back towards the bed, and he pushes her onto it. He climbs on top of her, and goes back to kissing on her chest. He works his way down her stomach, nipping where he pleases, before he’s able to lay comfortably between her legs.

“You…you don’t have to.” She says to him, and he looks up at with a confused look.

“I know I don’t, I want to. Didn’t get to do it last time.” He rubs circles into her thighs with his thumbs. “Do you not want me to?”

“No, I just…I don’t know, it’s sort of intimate for what this is.” She chews on her already swollen bottom lip. “You really want to?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t wanna suck your dick.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“Okay.” She takes a deep breath and opens her legs for him.

He uses his thumbs to open her folds up a little more so he could better see what he was working with. Ariel always hated this part when a guy would go down on her. She always felt like she was at the doctor’s office getting a checkup. She stopped feeling like that the second his tongue licked around her clit. She sits up on her elbows to watch him. He continues to lick around her clit, watching it get a little more swollen each time and then he sucks on it.

“Ah!” She gasps, reaching for his hair to tug on.

His fingers soon replace his tongue on her clit so he lick around where she’s wet for him. He moans into her after he finally gets a real taste. She smelled sort of like cocoa butter, he assumed she moisturized after her shower. For a woman that couldn’t stand him, she sure was considerate. He licks into her, and she squeaks out a noise that she had never heard come out of her own mouth. Ariel tries to wrack her brain, but she can’t seem to recall a time where a guy had ever actually licked into her before, teasing her in such a way with their tongue. Harry was licking and sucking on her while his fingers were working magic on her clit. She had tears in her eyes from how good it felt. Her thighs were squeezing against his head, and her heels were digging into his back, but he didn’t care. He was too caught up with fucking her with his tongue.

“Shit, I…fuck, Harry, I’m gonna come!” She warns him, and all he does his moan into her, encouraging her to do so.

She tugs on his hair a little harder as she cries out, back arching and head rolling back. He sits up and licks his lips. She was speechless, she had no words. He reaches into his back pocket to pull out a condom before standing up to get his pants off. His cock slaps back against his stomach once it’s free, and her eyes widen. His tip was already leaking.

“You got that turned on just from eating me out?” She wasn’t being condescending, in fact, her tone was full of shock.

“Yeah.” He says as he rolls the condom on. He knees back onto the bed, and shuffles to sit up against the headboard. “Since you’re not gonna suck me off, the least you could do is ride me for a bit.”

Her mouth falls open at that. She wasn’t quite sure how he expected her to have the energy to ride his dick after what he just did to her. She furrows her brows, and moves herself onto his lap. When they make eye contact, she realizes that she doesn’t want to look at him, so she turns herself around to ride him reverse. She guides him in, and sighs into her ear once he hits bottom. She takes a moment just to get reacquainted with him before she starts to swivel her hips in little circles. He gets an arm around her, securing it between her breasts, and gripping her shoulder to help keep her close and steady. He nibbles on her earlobe, and she whimpers. He carefully thrusts up into her as she grinds on him. She couldn’t believe the restraint he had. Most guys would thrust up too far when she was on top and it would hurt. But this…this felt heavenly. She almost hated him more because he was so good.

His mouth moves to the crook of her neck, sucking a bruise into her skin. Her head rolls back, and his other hand snakes around to rub at her clit. She picks up the pace, bouncing a little more on him. The way he was grunting and moaning was giving her goosebumps, which was an odd sensation to feel while her skin also felt extremely hot. His tip starts to hit her g-spot in just the right away, and she loses all control of the noises she’s letting out.

“That’s it.” He groans. “Come all over my cock.”

“Oh my god.” She mewls.

Her fingernails sink into the meat of his thighs as she cries out. She arches into him, and looks up at him, almost distressed, so he licks into her mouth. One of her arms hooks around his head to tug at his hair as she rides out her orgasm. She squeezes around him so tightly that after one more thrust he’s spilling into the condom. She lets her body go slack against him as they both catch their breaths. He sponges open mouth kisses to her neck and jaw before lifting her off of him. She whimpers from the abrupt change.

“Sorry.” He says. “Know that stings a little.”

“Yeah, just a little.” She swallows.

She watches him get off the bed and throw the condom away. He walks right into her bathroom, he didn’t even ask first, and she wasn’t sure why that annoyed her so much, but it did. When he comes out, he grabs his clothes to put back on. She goes to the bathroom next and puts her robe back on when she comes out. She walks him down the stairs and to the door.

“Well, uh, have a good night.” He says, running his hand through his hair.

“You too.” She opens the door for him, and he quickly steps out. She closes it and sighs, resting her forehead against it. She hated him, she really did.

A pattern had started between them. After hooking up, things were usually cool for about a week, until they’d eventually fight over something. The cooks almost wanted to set up a bingo card of things they fought over.

“Why can’t we offer lentil pasta instead of just gluten free?!” She yells one day.

“Because lentil pasta is more expensive than standard gluten free pasta!”

“You’re such a cheap prick!”

“I’m sorry, I’m trying to save this restaurant some money!”

“We can splurge on some different options! It’s what the people want!”

“Oh, did your bloody survey results tell you that!”

“Yes, as a matter of fact!” His eyes were full of rage. They were both in his office going over the order sheet. “Why can’t we just order it, try it out, and see how many people order it? If it’s a flop then we don’t have to order it again!”

“Fine!” He throws the clipboard with the order sheet onto his desk. “You’re coming to my place tonight.” He says lowly.

“M’allergic to cats.”

“Take a decongestant then.” He brushes by her to open his door, and he slams it behind him, leaving her standing in there.

Despite her gut telling her not to go, she follows him to his house after work. They say nothing to each other as they walk in. Luna comes over to greet Harry, and he picks her up. Ariel grimaces at the cat.

“You seriously don’t think she’s cute?” Harry asks.

“I’m not a cat person, they’re no fun.”

“You just haven’t met the right cat, then.” He snuggles Luna to his cheek for a moment before setting her down. “My room’s this way.” He nods towards the hall on the right, and she follows him. He walks straight into his bathroom and turns the shower on.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re doing this in the shower, I smell like steak.” He says, already taking his clothes off. She crosses her arms and huffs. “What?”

“I don’t want to shower right now. Just rinse off quick.”

“Ariel, I wasn’t asking. Get your ass in the bathroom, now.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are? What do you think this is? You can’t just – mmph!”

He had yanked her into him, kissing her to shut her up. She doesn’t fight him on it at all, and he walks them both into the now steamy bathroom, kicking the door closed. They both work quickly to get the other naked before stepping into the warm water.

“You better have a fucking spare towel.” She mumbles against his lips.

“Obviously.” He bites her bottom lip and then steps back from her. He reaches to grab his body wash.

“You’re seriously taking a shower?”

“Yeah.” He says as he lathers his body up. “I was balls deep in au jus today.” He steps in the water to rinse himself off. “Much rather be balls deep in something else, though.” He tugs her to him, licking into her mouth, and reaching between her legs to rub at her folds. His middle finger slips inside her, and she gasps. “Always so ready for me.” He grunts, and backs her up against one of the tile walls. “Can I hit it raw?”

“Are you, um, are you clean?” She asks.

“Yeah, are you?”

“Yeah.”

He grins, and hooks one of his arms under one of her legs to lift it up enough for him to have the room to thrust up into her. She grips his shoulders as he rocks in and out of her. He slots his mouth over hers and they both moan. Her nails rake down his torso and she grabs onto his love handles for dear life as he pounds in and out of her.

“You really fucking pissed me off today.” She says to him. “It’s just pasta.”

“You like spending money left and right.” He grunts.

“If people like it, then it’ll bring in more business. It could pay for itself.”

“The more people that want it, the more we’ll have to, shit, buy.”

“I’m aware of how supply and demand works, you asshole.”

Harry growls at her and presses his other hand to her throat.

“Do us both a favor, and just shut the fuck up, yeah?”

She nods at him and he lets go of her throat, but she pulls his hand back to keep it there. He groans because, quite frankly, it was one of the hottest things he had ever seen someone do. He wasn’t going to last very long, and he had no way of rubbing her clit.

“Touch yourself, rub your clit.” He says into her ear, his breath hot on her.

She snakes a hand between the two of them, and she whimpers when she touches her throbbing clit. She presses on it and rubs circles into the little bud.

“Ah, oh fuck.” She starts panting. “Just like that, Harry, shit.” She wanted to cry she was so close. She bites down on his shoulder as she comes to her release. She didn’t want her noises to scare his cat.

He pulls out of her quickly and comes on her stomach. He steps away from her and grabs his shampoo. She stands there awkwardly while he scrubs his head.

“You can use my body wash if you want.” He says, nodding to it. Ariel doesn’t say anything. She starts to tear up. “Hey, whoa, are you alright?”

“I…um…” She blinks a few times, but can’t really form a sentence.

He’s not sure what’s going on, but it he takes it upon himself to guide her back into the water to rinse her off. He gets his body wash on a spare cloth to wash her with, and then he turns the water off. He grabs a towel to wrap around her, and then gets one around himself. He picks her up and sits her on the sink counter to get a better looks at her.

“Talk to me, what happened?”

“I’ve never, um, let someone, uh…choke me before.” She looks up at him, and he sighs.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks softly.

“No.” She shakes her head. “Just felt a little…floaty for a second, like, lightheaded.” She swallows. “M��fine, I think it was just the steam. I have asthma and it can act up after a particularly hot shower.”

“If I had known I wouldn’t have-“

“I put your hand back on me, it’s okay.” She takes a deep breath and hops off your counter.

“Do you…wanna just crash here?”

“No.” She laughs. “Not at all.”

“You can’t drive if you’re all lightheaded.”

“I’m fine now.” She says as she puts her clothes back on. “I need to get going, I have a busy day tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow’s your day off.”

“Yeah, and I have things to do.” She leaves his bathroom, and he follows her out to his front door.

“Just…could you at least text me when you get home?”

“Sure.” She nods. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

She’s out the door in a flash. Harry didn’t quite understand why things were always so awkward with them afterwards. It was like neither of them ever knew what to say because they just didn’t really know how to be soft with one another. Harry scoops up Luna and brings her to bed with him. About twenty minutes later his phone buzzes.

Ariel Bardin: I’m home

Harry Styles: thanks for letting me know, you made me nervous for a second there

Ariel Bardin: I’m fine, you can go back to not giving a fuck now

Harry Styles: will do, goodnight!

Every time he was nice to her, she had to reject it. He hated her, he really did.

“You’re really liking it, you’re not just saying that?” Ariel’s father, Frank, says to her.

“Yes, Papa, I swear.” She smiles. “It’s better than I thought.”

“Good.” He sips on some lemonade. “You look awfully tired.”

“It was a long night.” She shrugs.

“How are things going with the head chef, Harry is it?”

“Yeah, um, I mean, we butt heads from time to time, but it’s fine.”

“It wouldn’t be a normal kitchen if the manager and chef didn’t butt heads.” He chuckles. “I used to fight with the chef all the time.”

“Papa…Uncle Matthew was the head chef when you were there.”

“Don’t I know it. We fought constantly, stubborn old bastard.” He shakes his head. “We still argue about recipes to this day.” He laughs. “Tell me, are you still planning to do the staff appreciation shindig at the end of the summer?”

“Course I am. Hotel’s booked and everything. It’s going to be a fabulous evening.” Ariel smiles. “The dining staff are really excited.”

“Good, good.” He nods. “Do you think you’ll bring a date?”

“Papa.” She groans. “I’d have to be seeing someone in order to bring a date.”

“You work too much, you don’t make time for yourself. Your mother and I were married with a kid by the time we were your age, you know?”

“Yeah, I’m the kid.” Ariel laughs. “I just have other priorities right now.”

“There’s really no one you’re talking to? No one that you like?”

“No.” She takes a sip of her own lemonade. “Don’t worry about me so much, I’m perfectly content, alright?”

“Okay, okay.” He raises his hands in defense. “I won’t ever stop worrying about you, though, that’s the curse of being a parent. At least let me pay for a new dress for the party, hm?”

“You know your money’s no good. I’ll send you pictures, though.”

“Please do, you always look so pretty when you get all dressed up. Spitting image of Mama.” He smiles.

“Thanks, Papa.” She gives his hand a squeeze. “Maybe, um, when I feel like I can take a vacation we can go to France? We haven’t been in so long, and I think it would be good to see our cousins.”

“If you plan the whole thing, sure.” He shrugs. “I think it would be a blast.”

Ariel was feeling a little nervous for the staff party. Not only was the restaurant closed for the weekend, but her staff had never seen her in a dress before. She was second guessing everything. Her hair was down and wavy, and she had on this gorgeous navy blue, lace mini dress paired with white heels. When she walked down the hall to the elevators she heard someone suck their teeth. She turns to see it’s Harry.

“Oh, hi.” She blushes.

“Hi.” He looks her up and down. “You look nice.”

“Thank you, so do you.” She swallows and steps inside the elevator once the doors open. Harry steps inside as well, and presses the button for the floor they need to get to with the small ballroom. “Should be a fun night, huh?”

“I’m hoping so.”

“It’s usually a good time.”

“I remember coming with my parents when I was little, it was great. They let me drink all the Shirley Temples I could stomach.”

Harry chuckles slightly at that. In that moment she wasn’t sure if she had ever genuinely made him laugh before. They had hooked up a few more times since the night in his shower. It was always the same, hot and heavy, and then awkward when they were done.

“Wait until you see Garrett on the dancefloor after a few drinks, he can breakdance.”

“No shit, really? I’ll have to keep an eye out.” The elevator dings and they both get off and head towards the ballroom. They both could hear the music the DJ was playing. “Well, have a good time tonight.” Ariel makes her way over to some of the dining staff members that were closer to her age. She had become friendly with a few of them.

Harry migrates over to where his staff was, and buys them all a round of drinks. Ariel stayed nursing on the same vodka-tonic for a bit. She didn’t want to get trashed. She was talking with a couple of the hostesses, having a good time.

“Alright, ladies, I’ve had a couple of drinks, I’m gonna go talk to Harry.” Erica says to them. “My mistake last year was waiting until the end of the night to talk to him. I’m starting earlier this year.”

“And what’s the end goal here, exactly?” Ariel smirks.

“To see what his hotel room looks like, of course.” Erica winks and walks over to where Harry was. “Evening, Chef.” She smiles.

“Hi, uh…”

“Erica.”

“Erica! Right, I knew that. You still working behind the bar?”

“I hostess too.” She smiles.

“Good for you.”

“Are you having a good time?”

“I am.” He nods, and sips from his drink. His eyes flash to Ariel and then back to Erica. “Are you?”

“Yeah. Must be nice that you have the whole weekend off for a change.”

“It’s definitely a nice break.” He smiles, and looks at Ariel again. “Could you excuse me for a moment? I just remembered something I needed to tell Ariel, and I don’t wanna forget again.”

“Oh, um, sure.”

Harry walks away from Erica, and she pouts.

“Don’t take it personally.” Garrett says to her. “Personally, I think he has a thing for Ari, but I have very little proof.”

“Are you kidding? They can’t stand each other.”

“Maybe so.” Garrett shrugs.

Harry makes his way over to Ariel, and clears his throat to get her attention.

“Yes?” She asks, eyebrows raised.

“Come dance with me.”

“Very funny.” She scoffs.

“M’serious. I think it would be good if everyone saw us palling around. Show them the squabbles we have are purely work related.”

“Harry, I have a feeling I’d hate your guts no matter the setting.”

“Just humor me, will you?” He says, visibly annoyed.

“Fine.” She rolls her eyes, and finishes her drinks before following him to the dance floor. A slower song was playing, so she figured it wouldn’t kill her to dance with him.

Once they’re on the dancefloor, his hands go on her waist, and she puts her hands on his shoulders. They sway back and forth for a bit, and it just feels awkward…

“This is weird.” She giggles, and he can’t help but laugh too.

“Why is that the only things we’re good at doing with each other is fighting and fucking?” He smirks.

“Been wondering the same thing myself.” She smirks back at him. “Things would be so much easier if you didn’t question every little thing I wanted to do.”

“Someone’s gotta play Devil’s advocate.”

“You’re not the advocate, you’re the Devil himself.” She rolls her eyes, and it makes him laugh.

“I happen to be a very nice person, you just tend to bring out the worst in me.”

“I suppose a guy who named his cat Luna has to have a soft side.”

“Oi, leave her out of this.” He pouts at her. “You’ve warmed up to her.”

“She’s alright.” Ariel shrugs.

“Those are, uh, really beautiful earrings you’re wearing.” He blushes slightly.

“Oh! Thanks, they were my mother’s. She left me all her good stuff.”

“You must miss her a lot.”

“Yeah.” Ariel sighs. “But it’s nice having these little pieces of her.”

“You know, I’ve never asked, can you speak French fluently, like, are you bilingual?”

“Je ne sais pas, dites-moi.” I don't know, you tell me. She grins at him.

“Okay, I know you said I don’t know…something…me…” He narrows his eyes in thought.

“Dites is tell, it’s the past tense of ditre, which is say.”

“Ah, right, it’s been a while since I conjugated a French verb.” He chuckles. “Remind me, how do you say fuck in French?”

“Merde.”

“I thought that was shit.”

“It works for both.” Ariel shrugs. “There are a lot of variations and translations, like, if I wanted to say I want to fuck you, I’d say Je veux te baiser, but baiser translates to kiss.”

“French is so confusing.” Harry shakes his head. “But it sounds nice while you’re speaking it.” The song ends and she tries to step back from him, but he keeps his grip on her waist. He leans in to whisper in her ear, “Tu veux coucher avec moi ce soir?” Do you want to sleep with me tonight?

“You could have at least used the formal voulez-vous.” She sighs.

“Just answer the question.” He rolls his eyes.

“Oui.” She nods. “But I wanna do it in my room so I can hang my dress up. I don’t want it getting wrinkled.”

“Do you wanna head up now? Think I’m done hanging out with everyone else.”

“Yeah, let’s go. Uh…go ahead of me, I’ll meet you at the elevator.”

Harry nods and makes his way off the dancefloor. Ariel counts to ten Mississippi before making her way out. Harry was leaning up against the wall waiting for her. The elevator dings and they both head inside. Before she knows it, she’s being shoved against the wall, and Harry’s tongue is down her throat. She wraps her arms around his neck, and she groans when he presses himself against her hip. When the elevator dings on their floor, he steps back from her, and they both quickly walk to her room. The second she’s inside, she kicks her heels off, and jumps up for Harry. He carries her over to the bed, and they both fall onto it. They’re both being sloppy with their kisses, but neither cares. The need to be close is overpowering. She starts unbuttoning his shirt while his lips stay on hers. She imagines they’ll still be red and puffy by morning.

He flips them both over so he’s on his back, and she grinds herself against his growing erection. He grips her hips and helps her rock back and forth. She kisses on his neck, and sucks on the area just below his ear. His hands squeeze and knead her ass as a bruise starts to form where her lips are.

“Fuck, need you naked.” He grunts, sitting up to tug on the hem of her dress.

“Hold on, you’re gonna rip it! There’s a fucking zipper on the back.” She huffs.

In the next second, he’s shoving her down onto her stomach so he can undo the zipper of her dress. He pulls her up by the hips so she can free her arms, and then she’s being moved into her back so he can get it the rest of the way off.

“Take your underwear off.” He says as he undoes his pants.

“No.” She smirks at him.

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“You do it.”

“Ariel.” He says firmly. “Have you not learned how this works by now?” He moves to hover over her, kissing her slowly. “I talk, and you listen.” She shakes her head no, and his eyebrows raise.

“What makes you think you’re always in charge, hm? I let you do all of these things, you know?” Her smiles grows wider. She pecks his lips before speaking again. “Now, tell me you hate me and take my bra off.”

He sits back, and yanks her into his lap. He works to undo her bra, and tosses it across the room. He kisses on her chest, and sucks on the plushier areas before taking a nipple into his mouth. He pops off with a smirk.

“I don’t just hate you, Ariel, I absolutely loathe you.” He pushes her down onto her back and yanks her underwear off. He finishes taking his own clothes off, and he reaches for a condom, but she grabs his wrist. She shakes her head no. “You sure?” She nods her head yes, and he moves back over her.

He kisses on her neck while one of his hands roams down her body and between her legs. He slides two fingers inside her, and she moans softly. He pumps them in and out slowly before curling them up inside her, and rubbing his thumb on her clit. She grips at the comforter on the bed.

“Like that?” He says into her ear.

“Yes, fuck.” She bucks her hips up to grind against his fingers easier. He pulls them out and she whines.

“Would you relax, I was just gonna flip you over.”

“Oh.” She blushes and rolls onto her stomach. Harry yanks to her to her knees, and slides his fingers back in. Ariel sighs with relief.

“There we go.” He rubs his other hand up her back, and scratches back down before giving her ass a smack. He squeezes the supple flesh and leaves his hand there as he continues to work his fingers in and out of her.

“Oh, oh! Right there!” She gasps and starts rubbing her clit.

“M’I hitting it?” He grunts.

“Y-yeah, you’re right on it, don’t stop, please!”

She can hear him grunting and groaning behind her. He got so much pleasure making sure she got off, it astounded her. She cries out as she comes around his fingers, and he pulls them out slowly. He rubs her back as she catches her breath, and he sucks her slick off his fingers.

“Good?” He asks.

“Yeah, thanks.” She turns onto her side. “Wanna hit it from the side?” She wiggles her eyebrows at him, and he chuckles.

“Sure, if that’s how you want it.”

“It is…for now.”

He gets into position, and gets one of her legs over his shoulder. He pushes inside and watch as her mouth falls open. That was always his favorite part. She’d had him so many times at this point, and she still seemed so shocked at how he stretched her out. He rocks in and out of her slowly before really getting a groove going.

“H-Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you like, go behind me, like, we’re both on our sides? Do you know what I mean?”

He nods and pulls out of her so he can lay down behind her on his side. He lifts one of her legs a little so he can slide back inside of her. She hooks one of her arms around his head so she can get her fingers in his hair, and he kisses on her shoulder while his hand presses on her lower tummy. They were grinding against each other in the most perfect way. His fingers start to work her clit and she whines.

“Sensitive?” He asks her.

“Mhm.”

“Fight through it, know you can come again.”

“Need something to bite on.” She pants.

He gets his other arm around her neck so he can get his fingers in his mouth. She moans around them, and her eyes roll back.

“M’not gonna last, Ariel.” He rubs her clit harder, and she just moans louder around his fingers. “I’m gonna have to pull out soon.”

“No! Come inside me!” She shouts around his fingers.

“Fuck!” He cries out as he comes inside her. It pushes her over the edge, and she comes with him, milking him for everything he’s got. She kisses the palm of his hand before he pulls out of her.

“Could you, uh, bring me to the bathroom?” She asks, looking over her shoulder. “I don’t wanna sleep on sticky sheets.”

“Yeah.” He breathes, and scoops her up, bringing her into the bathroom. He sits her down on the toilet, and leaves to give her some privacy. When she comes out, he’s laying in his boxers on the bed.

“What are you doing?” She asks, going to her suitcase to look for her nightshirt.

“Figured we could fuck again in a bit, it’s not like we have to worry about getting up early, right?” He says, not looking up from his phone. “Or did I tucker you out.”

“No, um, we could…we could do it again in a little while.” She knees onto the bed and lays down. “I just need some time to cool down.”

“Yeah, no worries.”

“Harry?” She asks, turning on her side to face him.

“Hm?”

“Do you really loathe me?”

He looks up from his phone at that and turns on his side to face her.

“No…just sort of said it to keep us in the mood.”

“Do you think, like, we keep fighting as an excuse to fuck?”

“No, I mean, I genuinely can’t fucking stand you sometimes and doing this helps.”

“But what happens when one of us meets someone and we can’t just fuck it out?”

“Oh, please.” He scoffs. “Do you have time to meet someone else?”

“No, I’m just saying-“

“Besides that, who’s gonna fuck you better than me? Gimme a break, Ariel.” He laughs and rolls onto his back again, going back to his phone.

“Harry…eventually I’m going to want more than just fucking someone on the down low. I want certain things.”

“Yeah? So do I. You act like I’m going somewhere.”

“I’m…very confused right now.”

“Come here.” He pats his thighs and she shifts to straddle him. He tucks her hair behind her ears, and then pulls her down to kiss him. “You really think I’d like you run off to be with someone else? If that’s what you think, then you’re even crazier than I thought.”

“Harry, you don’t want me, stop messing around.”

“I’m being completely serious. I’ll get you the big house, the white picket fence, we’ll fill it with babies, and then they’ll have a romantic story to think about just like you did with your parents.” He kisses her again. “What’s cuter than mum and dad meeting in the kitchen at work, right? We can leave out the rest.”

“What makes you think that I…that I want any of that with you?” She was trembling.

“Because you wouldn’t have fucked me a second time if you didn’t like me, Ariel.”

“Harry, stop it, you’re gonna make me cry.” Her bottom lip quivers. “This isn’t funny.”

“I know it’s not, I’m not joking around.”

“But I don’t want us…I don’t want us to always be at each other’s throats. I don’t want that to be the only reason there’s a passion between us.”

He caresses her cheek and rub away a stray tear.

“It won’t be like that. I mean, I certainly know how to make you shut the fuck up, but I think we really have this weird connection. Things always get so awkward after we hook up because I think we’re both sort of soft people, and we don’t know if it’s okay to be soft with one another, but…I wanna be soft with you, I think. I want to sleep over, and cuddle, and all that other shit.” She blinks at him. “Do you want all of that…with me?” She nods yes at him. “Alright then, quit your blubbering and come here.” He tugs her down to him all the way so he can hold her properly. “Je t’aime.” He says softly as he strokes her hair.

“Je t’aime aussi.” I love you too.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles x oc #chef!Harry #harry styles imagine

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nanamismoonchild · 4 years ago

Text

chapter 3- entrance

pairing: god!namjoon x goddess!reader

genre: fluff, angst, smut , greek god based au

warnings: this chapter is chill :D

wc; ~1.6k

Summary: You’re a beauty. He is handsome. You’re Life. He is Death. You love him. But does he love you? There’s only one way to found out. And it’s by being the Queen.

A/N: ngl im starting to love oc/reader persephone. what do yall think?

prev/next

The journey to the Underworld was quicker than you had imagined it would be. Possibly because of Jungkook rowing quickly across the Styx in a hurry to meet your demand. The ferryman was afraid of going any slower than he usually did in case you decided to feed him the other drachma that hung from your ear. It was not as pleasant as you expected it to be. You could hear the agonizing moans of the Wraiths who lurked around the river Styx. They were doomed to be there for at least one hundred years as a result of not being able to pay the dreaded fee.

The boat rocked back and forth, some of the water sloshing onto your feet. It was cramped and you could feel your backside begin to hurt from falling and from sitting on the bare floor of the dingy boat.

Thankfully, the ride was over soon. The blue man helped you off of the boat while Jungkook was forced to glance at everything but you. Probably because you were now wet and naked, something you hoped to remedy soon.

“The entrance to the Underworld is just beyond the hill. I’m afraid your friend will meet Hecate as soon as he crosses the threshold. I am very ashamed of how I treated you Persephone. I beg your forgiveness,” Jungkook’s hoarse voice pleaded. He knelt down in front of you and kissed your feet.

How sweet.

“I will think about it. I still have to meet your ruler. Where would he be located?”

“In the throne room. He’s usually always there. I-I will escort you there.”

“There are too many dead people waiting to be taken across. I will guide myself. A throne room should not be hard to find. Consider yourself dismissed.”

You took the blue man’s hand and marched towards the entrance to the Underworld. It was strikingly brighter than the rest of the domain. The symbol of Namjoon, a large cornucopia that spilled its bountiful contents while a scepter was embedded into it, was the golden highlight of the door. It was most definitely the only welcoming sight you had seen thus far.

You could hear growling on the other side.

Your mother had told you many stories of the land of the dead. They had been as dull as a well-used sword. The sheer boredom from listening to your mother tell the tales had put you to sleep as a child. Hearing the growls of the multiheaded dog named Cerberus, who guarded the entrance into the Underworld, made you wish you paid more attention to them. You had no idea how to pass the guard. Killing it was surely not an option. You had no plans to upset the God of the Underworld with any of your reckless behavior.

Unless it was in self-defense.

Cerberus’s growling became louder as you neared the golden door. The energy from the door was making the Blue Man shake with nervousness. You were shaking as well, but it was mostly from the cold air that wrapped around your naked body. Hopefully, someone in the castle would offer you something to wear. That or you’d simply just steal the clothes off of the nearest servant.

“How do you even open this door? It’s huge!” You exclaimed as the both of you stared at the door.

The Blue Man shrugged and gestured a pushing motion. He hadn’t spoken since the two of you dropped down into the Underworld. Perhaps he was afraid of you after the stunt with the ferryman. Good.

“You want me to push the door? By myself?” The Blue Man shook his head quickly. “That’s what I thought. We’ll push together on the count of three and once it opens, even a little, I want you to peek over and see if the guard is near. I do not have the time for running for my life in the Underworld.”

The Blue Man nodded again and placed his hands on the door, putting himself into a lunging position, prepared to push on the door with all of his ghostly might. You mirrored his stance.

“On three, one, two, three, push!”

Both of you pushed and immediately fell faces first into the threshold of the entrance. The door might have seemed heavy, but it was the entrance to the underworld. It was as light as a door to a home.

Groaning, you sat up on your knees and took a peek at your surroundings. Cerberus was nowhere to be seen but his growling could still be heard in the distance.

The door had spilled you and the blue man onto a pathway that forked into two paths. The ferryman had mentioned Hecate, and if you remembered correctly, the goddess ruled over crossroads among other things. The fork was obviously a crossroad but where was the goddess?

“Dear Persephone. There are many crossroads here in the Underworld. This is the one your little friend is supposed to see,” the goddess’s voice echoed as she appeared behind you.

You startled and swiftly spun around to face her. Hecate had a knowledgeable smile on her face.

“He knows what he must do. I have set up a nice set of decisions for him. He can choose to live and be reborn in Elysium. He has done many good things in his life. Or the other option is to live as a servant to Namjoon. Perfect right?”

“I do believe that is as fair as it comes. You are very generous.”

You turned towards the man who was turning a lot less blue. You could just make out his facial features. He was handsome for someone who lived poorly. His hair was nicely combed into a fashion that men wore these days-a side part that showcased his broad forehead. His jaw was set in thought as he pondered his decision. This was his fate.

He took a hesitant step towards the path as if he were weighing the benefits and outcomes of each path. You could only imagine what he could be thinking about.

He could be reborn, but what if his new life was even harder than the last. He wouldn’t remember his old family, his children, his wife. He would have to create new memories, good or bad, if the new life let him.

On the other hand, who knew what the ruler of the Underworld would have him do. He could live out his eternity behind in the castle walls, bowing to every command. He had possibly about the kindness Namjoon showed his servants and the freedom they were allowed. He only requested they complete their duties.

Could he live with that? Could he live with knowing that he would be allowed to remember his old family, and possibly see them in the future when they grew old or died an early death such as he did?

The man took several more steps before he was bounding towards the path that led to the right. And then he was gone.

“What a wonderful choice he made,” Hecate sighed dreamily at your side. She was holding a torch that had manifested in her hand as the blue man’s light disappeared.

“What choice did he make?”

“I cannot tell you, Persephone. But I do think you’ll find out soon. The throne room is just beyond that same path. I’m sure Namjoon is waiting for you. Goodbye.”

After answering and not answering your question, Hecate disappeared leaving only a white mist in her wake. Fortunately, she did leave the torch that floated in her place. Grabbing it, you straighten your shoulders and step into the same path the man had taken only moments ago.

The man had simply vanished but the path before you seemed to stretch on for the gods know how long.

“Of course, it would be hard for me. It isn’t my crossroad to walk on,” you muttered to yourself and continued on.

You were beginning to regret not turning around (a first for you) before you heard the murmuring of voices. You started running in the direction of the voices.

Please, please, please, let there be a fire or something. My body is on the verge of hypothermia.

The murmurs were becoming louder and you could make out a faint glow.

Finally. Finally.

You burst out into a crowded room. The murmurs had been coming from the servants who were surrounding something in the middle of the room. They were all dressed in a mix of black, white, and grey clothing. There was a fire near where you had come from, so you snuck over to get a little warmth and to eavesdrop.

“Oh wow. Someone new!”

“He could take over my extra duties.”

“No mine!”

“Why did someone so handsome choose to become a servant?”

“Everyone, shush! Our King is coming.”

The crowd quieted down as loud but calculated footsteps resounded through the room. Everyone was holding their breath, including you. You had never met Namjoon in person as he preferred to stay in his domain.

Nothing prepared you for the man in front of you. Your mother had always made it sound as if he were the most average man alive.

He was nothing like that. Namjoon was exceptionally darker than the proposed pale that your mother had told. He held himself with an aura of royalty.

Namjoon made his way up to his throne where he stood tall and proud in front of his audience.

“We have a newcomer today,” his deep tenor resonated through the room, “Please come up and introduce yourself to me before I sit.”

The man who you had journeyed with kneeled before Namjoon. He was dressed in the servant’s clothing and his brown hair was pulled back into a bun.

“My name is Kim Seokjin. And it was an honor to serve you today, by leading the woman who you have been desiring to you.”

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ukulelecal · 4 years ago

Text

Bloom - Part One

The story of flowers.

Pairing: Poet!Luke Hemmings x Female!OC

Warnings: angst!!!! implied smut. perhaps a swear or two. mostly angst

Word count: 4.4k

A/N: can yall believe that this video sent me so feral that i wrote this whole lil mini series in like five days?? i'm not surprised tbh. ANYWAY omg i really am excited for y'all to read this!!! i hope you love it!!! i would love your feedback, and please please remember that reblogs mean the absolute world to creators!

series masterlist

masterlist // posted on ao3

Devon would never forget the first poem Luke wrote for her.

He was a blushing mess as he handed her the folded piece of paper, insisting she read it later because he didn’t want to see her reaction. He had a lip ring then, blond hair spiked up and a wardrobe full of band t-shirts and black skinny jeans. He certainly didn’t look like how anyone would imagine a poet, but one look at his work would tell anyone that he had the mind for the craft.

Luke’s way with words was unmatched. Devon always called it a superpower; the way he was able to capture readers with words strung together so beautifully and paint a picture in the brain. He made people feel something. He had a gift, no doubt.

All of his poems were breathtaking, and he wrote many for her. The first would always be her favorite.

It was called The Orchids. The poem compared a woman to a field of orchids, delicate and lush. It was simple but sweet. Devon vividly remembered the rush of giddiness she felt as she read it, knowing it was written just for her. She remembered calling Luke after reading it over and over again, gushing about how much she loved it. He explained to her later that he chose orchids because the color of the shirt she was wearing the day they met reminded him of them.

They were only freshmen in college then. First time away from home, getting their first taste of real independence. Of adulthood. They met in a seminar class that every first year student had to take. One that everyone else hated but Luke and Devon loved, just because they got to see each other. A couple of coffee dates lead to The Orchids, which lead to a loving relationship and many, many more poems.

College was just about to come to an end now. Graduation was coming up fast, and that brought the simultaneously exciting and dreadful question: what next?

The future was something that used to delight Luke and Devon. Countless nights, they talked about marriage, a house, a dog, children. Luke would be a renowned poet, Devon a respected social worker. They had it all planned out. Even if their white picket fence dreams fell through, they would be happy so long as they had each other.

With graduation creeping closer and closer, Devon wasn’t so sure about their plans.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want it anymore. She still loved Luke with all of her heart. She wanted everything they had talked about, a future with him. Some deeper thinking into her career led her heart elsewhere.

It came out at dinner one evening, sat at the table of Devon and Luke’s shared apartment that they had moved into junior year.

“I’ve been thinking about going to grad school,” she blurted out. She twisted her spaghetti on her fork to distract herself. His face lit up, but Devon didn’t quite share his excitement. She knew this was something she wanted, but she was about to make a huge sacrifice that she had been trying to convince herself that she was ready for.

“Yeah? That’s great, Dev!” Luke cheered. “Here?”

The proud smile on his face quickly dropped when he saw the look of dread on hers. Graduate school was certainly a good thing, but if she wasn’t thrilled, Luke knew there must be a catch.

“Not here?” Devon shook her head. “Then where?”

The name of the school that she mumbled under her breath made Luke’s heart sink. It was far away. Very far.

“Oh.”

Luke wanted to kick himself for being disappointed. It was selfish, so selfish. He should have been proud that Devon wanted to further her education, and he was. He couldn’t fathom trying to take that away from her, but the thought of his girl being so far away was gut wrenching.

He wiped the frown off his face as quickly as it came. He reminded himself that he needed to be supportive, even if it hurt.

“That’s awesome, baby. I’m really proud of you.”

Devon knew he wasn’t lying when he said he was proud of her, but she could tell he wasn’t as excited as he was trying to seem.

“You don’t have to act happy about this, Lu,” she murmured, still pushing her pasta around. “I know what you’re thinking.”

He sighed and dropped his fork on his plate. Of course she saw through him. She always did. After four years of being together, Devon knew Luke better than anyone.

“I really am proud of you for doing this, honey. Don’t think that I’m not. It’s just…” he trailed off, unable to think of a way to put what he wanted to say without sounding selfish. “It’s so far away.”

Devon swallowed the lump in her throat. She was headstrong, and she knew that she needed to put her career and her own desires first. That didn’t mean it hurt any less to move so far away from the love of her life.

“I know, bubs,” she whispered. “But this is something I really want for myself. For my future.”

“Oh, honey, I know,” Luke sighed, not wanting her to feel bad. “I want you to do this. But the distance...I know it’s selfish of me-”

“It’s not selfish, Luke,” she interrupted, shaking her head softly. “It’s not easy for me either. But this school has the best graduate program for social work. Besides, I haven’t finished my application yet and I’m applying to some other places too. I might not even get in.”

Perhaps the most selfish thing of all was that a tiny part of him hoped she wouldn’t get in. It would break her heart if she didn’t, but maybe she wouldn’t be so far. Luke hated himself for the thought even crossing his mind for a split second.

Devon could see how this was affecting him. She understood; she knew he was planning on proposing shortly after graduation, though they were in no hurry to actually get married until they both had secure jobs. Moving hundreds of miles away for two years undoubtedly threw a wrench in the plans.

She had gone back and forth for a while as she searched for grad schools. As much as she wanted to stay close, her future career was something that she valued greatly. Devon was a first generation college student, and she wanted nothing more than to make her family proud. However, Luke was important too. The distance wouldn’t be easy, but she tried to be optimistic. She could only hope that he would want to try too.

“Don’t think like that, Dev,” Luke mumbled. He let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair. His desire for Devon to succeed and his desire to keep her close were battling each other, and it only frustrated him.

He thought about his words for a few moments, but couldn’t find the right thing to say.

“We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

Devon gave a silent nod. She needed to let him feel this out, and honestly, she needed to do the same. Thinking about it was one thing, but actually telling Luke was another. She had been stressing over it for a while, and now that it was finally out, her and Luke had to actually deal with it together.

The couple finished their dinner in silence, the only sounds to be heard being the slight scraping of forks against plates and the occasional sighs.

Devon couldn’t help but feel guilty. Over the years, she had conditioned herself to put her own aspirations first. She had sacrificed a lot for others in her lifetime, but many people had made sacrifices for her as well. She felt she had found a balance between taking care of herself and taking care of the people around her. She knew that moving away for a while for her own benefit would have an effect on her relationship, but she didn’t feel as if she had to choose one or the other. If Luke was willing to try to make things work, then so was she.

Luke took his last bite of spaghetti and stood up from the table. He silently made his way to the sink to wash his plate before turning back to Devon.

“I’m going to write for a bit, okay?” He mumbled, slowly making his way towards the spare bedroom that doubled as his workspace. No doubt a poem was going to come out of everything he was feeling at the moment. Devon nodded and her brown eyes watched as Luke turned on his heel to walk away.

“Luke?” She called out before he got too far. He turned around with a hum of acknowledgement. “I love you.”

Despite the anxiety and dread he was feeling, he smiled.

He walked back over to where Devon still sat at the table. With her face cradled lovingly in his hands, he bent down to press a soft yet meaningful kiss to her lips. The kiss said that even if things were uncertain, this wasn’t over.

“I love you too.”

…

Devon’s breath caught in her throat when an email from her top choice grad school came through.

She had poured over her personal statement and fretted over her interview. No matter how much everyone assured her, she couldn’t help the anxiety that ate her away.

With a deep breath, she opened the email.

Accepted with a scholarship.

“Luke! Bubs, I got in! I got in!”

She ran into the spare bedroom where Luke was hunched over one of his many poetry notebooks. His head whipped up at his girlfriend’s yells, his brain taking a moment to process her words after being in the writing zone.

For a moment, neither of them were thinking about the distance. All that mattered was Devon’s amazing achievement.

Luke stood up to meet her. Devon practically tackled him in a hug and he easily held her close.

“Congratulations, honey,” he mumbled into her hair. “Fuck, I’m so proud of you.”

He held her for a few minutes, neither of them able to wipe the smiles off their faces. This meant a lot to Devon, and Luke knew it. He knew from the moment he met her that she was going to do great things in life. She was motivated, intelligent, passionate. Anyone could see it. It was one of the many things he loved about her.

Luke pulled away in favor of cupping her cheeks in his hands. Devon flushed under his adoring gaze, eyes falling downwards.

“You’re incredible, Devon Murphy.”

She kissed him as a form of thanks, melting into each other’s touch. Their eyes met when they pulled away, bright blue and warm brown. Devon wasn’t the wordsmith that Luke was, but she didn’t have to be. Her eyes and her actions told him and everyone else everything that they needed to know. Devon was in love with him, and Luke, her.

Even with Luke’s way with words, Devon could read his eyes too. They were just as expressive as his poetry. As they gazed at each other, she could see the flash of sorrow as his mind travelled elsewhere. She didn’t need to ask to know what he was thinking about.

“Luke…” she whispered with a softened gaze. The guilt was returning, although she knew she had nothing to feel guilty about. She had always struggled with her determination to put herself first. It wasn’t Luke’s fault either, however; his feelings about her leaving were completely valid.

“No. None of that right now,” he stated, shaking his head. “This is a huge accomplishment, Dev. We’re not going to be sad tonight.”

A grin tugged at the corner of Devon’s lips as Luke pulled away, grabbing his phone from the desk and sticking it in his pocket. He placed a hand on the small of her back and led her to the door of the bedroom.

“I think you deserve a celebratory dinner, honey, yeah?” He offered, handing trailing to the side to hold her waist. She chuckled and leaned into him.

“You could throw in a frozen pizza and I’d be happy, bubs.”

“Hell no,” he scoffed as if it was the most ridiculous suggestion in the world. “You just got into grad school! I’m taking you out for dinner. If you want pizza, we can get pizza, but not a frozen one.”

Devon couldn’t help but throw her arms around him again, burying her face into his chest. He tilted his head down to press a kiss to the top of her head. She knew this wasn’t easy, and she was beyond grateful that he was being supportive.

“Thank you, bubs. I love you.”

“I love you too, honey. So are we getting pizza, or do you want to go somewhere else? It’s up to you.”

“Pizza sounds good. Can we go to the place with the good garlic knots?”

Luke laughed as he slipped on his shoes.

“Of course we can.”

Devon slipped on her own shoes and grabbed her denim jacket from the hook by the door before the couple made their way downstairs. Luke’s beat up Prius came into view as they stepped into the parking lot. Devon had named the car Bertha; she was old and a little rusty, but she got the job done.

Luke drove to the small pizzeria not far from their apartment complex. Once inside, they were seated quickly and ordered garlic knots and a pizza to share.

“We haven’t talked much about your writing lately,” Devon said once the waitress walked away. “What have you been working on?”

Luke shrugged and sipped his water.

“Not much. I haven’t really gotten anything good out.”

Truthfully, he had written a lot of poems about Devon leaving. He wasn’t going to tell her that at their celebratory dinner, though.

“In a slump?” She queried sincerely.

“Yeah, a bit.”

“Maybe next weekend we can go out, go to the park. You always get inspired there.”

Luke grinned and reached across the table for her hand.

“I’d love that, Dev.”

The rest of dinner flew by, conversation getting lost in buttery garlic knots and savory pizza. Luke offered dessert, but Devon was too full to even think about it. A sly joke about having her for dessert at home had the giggling couple paying the check and driving home at record speed where Luke certainly made good on his promise.

Devon and Luke laid in bed that night where whispered I love you’s and gentle kisses put them to sleep. Not a negative thought in either of their minds. They were content, but the future still loomed menacingly ahead.

…

The apartment was once a place of solace. It was a place where Luke and Devon could get away from the stress of college life and simply be together. It was safe and comforting. A place they knew they were always welcome.

As time went on, the apartment slowly shifted from a place of joy to a place of dread.

Graduation day was coming up, and both Devon and Luke knew what that meant.

They busied themselves with assignments and exams, Devon simultaneously preparing herself for grad school. She didn’t say much about it to Luke; whenever it came up, the tension between them only got stronger. It led to them bickering about other things to avoid the conversation.

Before they knew it, graduation had come and passed. Devon and Luke officially had their bachelor’s degrees, Luke in creative writing and Devon in social work. The days leading up to it were a good distraction, celebrations with friends and family taking their minds off the move. But it was over. Devon needed to get to her new city soon to set up her new apartment and get her bearings before school started. It was time to face the music.

“Luke?” Devon mumbled as he came out of the spare bedroom. She had been waiting for him to finish so they could talk.

He sighed and sat down next to her on the couch, knowing exactly what this was about. They both had been dreading the conversation, but he knew just as well as her that they needed to discuss it before it was too late.

“Are you ready for this?” She whispered, glancing at him with sad eyes. He didn’t return her gaze.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to be away from you for this long, honey.”

Luke could feel his guard coming down. He wanted this for Devon, but he was struggling to keep his want for her to stay close suppressed.

“I don’t want you to think I’m not considering you in this,” she began, reaching for his hand in his lap. “Leaving won’t be easy for me either.”

“I know.”

He was too scared to say much else.

The couple was silent for a moment. They racked their brains for something to say that would make the situation easier on either of them.

“Maybe you could come with.”

Devon regretted it as soon as it came out of her mouth.

Luke huffed and sent her a look.

“You know I can’t do that.”

She did know. If he could do that, he would have jumped on the opportunity immediately. Luke couldn’t afford to move. He was working on fulfilling his lifelong dream of releasing a poetry book. He was getting so close. Publishers were starting to take interest in him, and he nearly had enough money saved to cover the costs. It was difficult to save money when his part time job at a local bookstore didn’t pay much in the first place and he still needed to pay for school as well as his share of the rent and groceries, among other necessary things. Devon was a little luckier. Neither of their families had much to contribute, and she needed to pay for the same things as him, but her part time job paid better than his and she had money saved from when she managed to land a paid internship first semester. It was covering the costs of her move and grad school.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

She watched him for another moment, trying to fight back the tears that were welling in her eyes.

“Please say something, Luke,” she whimpered. All she wanted was for him to affirm what she so desperately wanted; for them to be okay.

He finally looked at her, both sets of eyes red rimmed. Devon squeezed his hand.

“Do you really have to go, Dev?”

The break in his voice sent the first tear gliding down Devon’s cheek.

“You know how much this means to me, Lu. I really think we can make this work.”

“Can we? Can we really?” Luke’s tone turned frustrated. Devon’s mouth dropped open slightly. Did he not believe they could last?

“What are you saying?” She whispered, voice shaking.

He sighed and roughly stood up, dropping Devon’s hand in the process.

“We’ll never talk. We’ll both be so busy. You’ll have school, I’ll be working. And you know neither of us have the money to be visiting each other often. There will hardly be anything,” he rambled, pacing around the living room. Maybe his selfish side was coming out, but he felt he was just being realistic.

Luke always aimed for realism, particularly in his poetry. He wrote largely about real life experiences and channeled his emotions into beautiful, flowing rhymes. His best work came from personal connection.

Sometimes, he couldn’t help but write about what he wished he had.

His idealistic poems were never about Devon; his relationship with her was practically perfect. But this was something that no idealistic poem could fix. No words could change what was happening to them.

“I’ll make time for you, Luke. Won’t you do the same?” She questioned, growing frustrated as well. She had wanted him to share her optimism, but clearly he didn’t. A part of her knew he was right, but she wasn’t going to back down.

“Of course I’ll make time. But will it be enough? No matter how much we try, will it be enough to keep what we have going? Look at what it’s doing to us now! You haven’t even left yet and we can barely keep it together.”

“Do you really have that little faith in us, Luke?” Her voice was calm, despite how she felt on the inside. She narrowed her eyes at him. “No one said it would be easy. But we’ve been together for four years. I believe in us.”

Luke took another breath, trying his best to keep his emotions and tears at bay.

“I want to believe in us, Devon. I really do.” He turned to look at her. Her cheeks were stained with tears, and it only made his heart ache more. “I still want a future with you. I want the house and the dog and the kids we’ve always talked about. But I have a bad feeling. We’ve never been away from each other for more than a few weeks. I just...the distance is going to break us.”

Luke’s own words cut him like a knife. As much as he wanted to believe they could last, his own insecurities caused him doubt. He wasn’t sure if he truly believed that or if he just wanted to save himself the heartbreak of being away from Devon for so long.

Devon let his words sink in. Even if it did break them before she finished her degree, she was willing to try until they couldn’t anymore. Maybe he was right. Maybe the distance would break them eventually. But it hurt her that he didn’t have any faith at all. Still, she understood where he was coming from.

There was no winner in this situation.

She thought for a moment, and finally came to the conclusion that they were both thinking about.

“Fine.” She slowly stood up from the couch and looked him in the eye. They were both shattered. Hearts were breaking into a million pieces simultaneously. Devon put on the most stoic face she could muster with tears still leaking from her eyes. “We obviously want different things right now. I have school, you have your book, and clearly we can’t handle both at the same time. Maybe there shouldn’t be an us.”

Although he had essentially been the one to suggest it, her words felt like a punch in the gut.

This wasn’t what either of them wanted. This wasn’t supposed to happen. But the truth was becoming more and more apparent. They couldn’t do this. Not now.

However, Luke mimicked Devon’s actions and put on a blank face.

“Maybe there shouldn’t.”

They stared at each other for another few moments. Reality was setting in. This was the end of Luke and Devon. All of the coffee dates, the love poems, living off Ramen and questionable dining hall food together, walks in the park, kisses, I love you’s, the late night talks of the future, everything gone down the drain.

Devon shut herself in the bedroom before Luke could see her break.

…

The next month before Devon moved was painful. Her and Luke hardly said a word to each other. They ate their meals separately, not bothering to cook together like they used to or order food to share. They both spent time with friends before everyone went off to their new adult lives. When they weren’t out, Devon locked herself in the bedroom while Luke did the same in the spare. They hadn’t slept in the same bed since before their fight.

Devon spent a lot of free time packing. She went through all of her belongings, creating piles of things to keep, things to donate, and things to throw away.

She soon came across something that made all of her emotions about the breakup resurface.

It was the shoebox that she kept all of the poems Luke had written for her in. She kept every single one.

With a quivering lip, she opened the box and gazed at its contents. Piles of folded papers were neatly tucked inside, his declarations of love all written out in one place. They were her most prized possessions. She went back and reread them often, and the feeling of having someone love her like Luke did was the best feeling in the world.

Devon choked out a sob, burying her face into her hands in hopes that he wouldn’t hear her through the thin walls. The fact that he was right next door hurt her even more. The caring, gentle boy that made her swoon with his charming smile and romantic poetry. He made her fall in love with him all over again every day. He was everything, and she lost him.

She slowly read through each poem. Instead of joy and adoration, all she felt was anguish and heartache. She never thought she would feel this way about Luke.

When she got to the bottom, she pulled out the last poem, and her heart completely broke in her chest.

The Orchids.

Devon couldn’t keep her sobs at bay. She clutched the paper to her chest, every bit of pain coming out in tears.

Luke could hear her through the wall.

His heart told him to run in and comfort her. His brain told him it would only make things worse for both of them.

He plugged his ears, trying to block out the dreadful sound. He was in just as much pain as her, but the sound of the love of his life’s sorrow only made his own worse.

Glancing down at the open notebook in front of him, he reread the poem he was writing, and soon he found himself joining Devon in tears.

It was called Wilted. Their relationship that had once been a beautiful flower, an orchid, lost its sunlight and its water, and now it had wilted. Dead, grey, dried up.

Luke dropped his pen and folded his arms on the desk, burying his head into them. He cried.

The broken couple, only separated by a thin wall, might as well have already been miles apart. They cried together, but there was no sense of unity between them. Their pain was past what any poem could portray.

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taechaos · 3 years ago

Note

That scenario was really good😱 Yeonjun’s last line made me GASP lolol

can you do another scenario where Yeonjun gifts OC roses and a teddy bear through a delivery service so she is shocked when she receives them, how would Jungkook react? 😱

I love jealous/pissed/possessive Jungkook 🥵

YALL JUST REALLY LOVE THE DRAMA 💀💀 making my man suffer like this,,, you'll be hearing from my lawyers

im gonna be including this bit in the scenario so 😎

"Is this for you or me?" you ask Soyeon who can barely keep her eyes open after waking her upon seeing a bunch of gifts when you opened the door of your dorm room to attend your morning lecture. It's a teddy bear holding a bouqet of roses in its fluffy paw, sitting on the hall floor to provide you with today's first surprise.

You know Soyeon is single, and you know Jungkook like the back of your hand: his romance doesn't extend to these cheesy gestures. It may seem rude to not even think of the possibility that it might be your boyfriend's doing, and despite being such a hopeless romantic, you're certain it's not from him.

Soyeon grumbles drowsily as she stretches before rubbing her eyes with her fists. "What?" she yawns tiredly.

"That," you point past the open door and she follows the direction of your finger with puffy eyes.

"Definitely not," she answers with a sleep strained voice. "Look for a card." She doesn't leave room for a response before turning on her side to face away from you and fall back asleep.

You listen to her advice and crouch before the toy to search for anything that would reveal the identity of the delivery person. It's with close inspection that you find a white card stuffed between the roses.

In your hand it reads: Good morning, beautiful. Can't wait to see you in Human Anatomy.

There's your clarity, and you can't doubt it's Yeonjun when Soyeon doesn't even take this course. It's pathetic, you think, to try and court someone who's already in a stable relationship. This isn't him going after you, but beckoning you to go to him just like he said you would before calling your boyfriend a cliché. It more or less sounds like a mind game, and you're stuck between ignoring his advances completely or confronting him about it.

Yeonjun seemed like an understanding guy; he did say he wouldn't go around you asking for a date, and for two days, he hasn't. If he takes orders so well, it wouldn't hurt to tell him to leave you alone once and for all.

That's your reasoning to march down the hall and find Yeonjun after crumbling the note and leaving the gift on someone else's doorstep. Front rows are your go-to spot to not miss a single detail in your lecture, and it's no shocker seeing Yeonjun sitting on a front row bench.

You clench your fists and scowl to intimidate the creep before stomping over to him. Dismissing your demands is out of the question when your stance nothing short of angry. He needs to know you're not playing around, that he can't manipulate your naivety like he's attempting to.

His eyes twinkle the moment they land on you and he stops spinning his pencil to give you his utmost attention. Good, he's listening. You don't trespass the barrier in the form of a stretched out table between you two as you glower over him.

"I'm gonna make this short," you glare with slit eyes, "I don't want anything that has your fingerprints on it nor do I want to hear you speak to me ever again. Leave me alone or I will report you for harrassment. Say yes if you understand."

The light in his gaze dims momentarily as his awed smile falters. "Y-Yes." He appears afraid and innocent, but your gut denies it. "But may I ask why?"

"Oh, you know why," you scoff in a hushed voice, "I don't want your stupid cards and your stupid gifts, and most of all, I don't want you. Get that through your thick skull."

He never knew you could be this mean, and it almost throws off the sweet impression he has of you until he remembers that you're just loyal. He loves that you're so faithful, and he wants you to be faithful to him only. He craves it so deeply, but he says nothing of the sort and instead stammers, "I-I understand. I-I'm sorry, I'll leave you alone if that's what you wa–"

The slam of the lecture room's doors echo in the spacious hall, and you hurriedly take a seat on the edge of the bench to distance yourself from Yeonjun as much as possible. He has to bite his lip to stop a smile from growing on his face from having you sit next to him.

But just as you requested, he doesn't interact with you throughout the lecture except for a few glances to drink in the sight of you being so close to him. Instances like these are the only time he can feel intimate with you, but it'll only get better on from here.

Because the professor assigns a pair project before you're dismissed.

"Before you leave, by the end of the term, you will have a report submitted in pairs regarding senses that affect the human system in a topic of your choice. More information on the college website, along with the assigned pairs. You can go."

"I already checked," Yeonjun whispers to you, making you immediately wear a distasteful expression, "I'm your partner."

"Nuh-uh," you deny childishly before taking out your phone as you stand from the bench to leave after packing your stationaries. You log onto the site just as you receive a notification from Jungkook.

the love of my life ♡: no good morning text? sus

You have to swipe it away out of worry that you'll actually be forced to spend time with Jungkook's new nemesis. The site loads. You scroll past the details of the task and finally land on the pairs.

And there it is—your name next to Yeonjun's on the screen.

"No," you exhale to yourself and rush out to the hall to avoid Yeonjun. "No, no, no."

Below the names explicitly states: No changes in the assigned pairs. It's too big of a coincidence for you to think it's just your bad luck—you're certain bribery is involved, and how lovely that you can't do anything about it.

You take pride in your intelligence, but you can't outsmart him in this situation, especially when your grades are being held over your head to force yourself to be around Yeonjun. Jungkook would get arrested for murder if you involved him in it, and he surely wouldn't leave you alone if you told him about it.

But then again, you promised—no more secrets.

You: good morning kookie!! i was a little busy so i couldn't text you :< did you sleep well?? <3

"Fuck, fuck," you shriek to yourself as you keep walking, not paying attention to where your feet are leading you. Just as long as you're safe from Yeonjun so Jungkook wouldn't find you with him. You need to tell him when the guy isn't around, so you need to wait until his lecture's over–

Yeonjun calls for your name softly while running past the roaming students, and you stop on your tracks with the desire to spit out every insult you have in mind to his face.

"You asshole!" you grit the moment he faces you while breathing heavily. "You planned this, didn't you? I said–"

"I-I'm sorry, but I had nothing to do with it," he pleads with that innocent expression of his. "I promise I-I won't act like before! I'll respect your relationship and stop being weird!"

"Good," you jab a finger at his chest as you seethe, "I don't want to spend any more time with you than I have to."

He frowns with a jutting bottom lip, looking like a kicked puppy as his eyes turn glossy. You are so mean, and he hates it, but his only leverage is that he can be meaner—not to you, never you, but to Jungkook. He's a step ahead of you, and you can shower him with all the bad words you can think of until you heart is content, but he sees it as just a step in the process of owning you.

You think he's submissive and persistent, but no, he's just manipulative.

—

"Don't get mad," you warily caution while lying down on the grass next to your boyfriend, basking in the sun to last the peaceful atmosphere a little longer. His arm is under your back and his hand on your chest as you hold it.

He has his eyes closed as he says, "no promises."

"We promised to tell each other everything, and there's nothing you can do about this one so please don't get mad at me." He quirks a brow when he opens his eyes to see your timid face. "Remember Yeonjun?"

"You have to be fucking kidding me," he groans angrily as he sits up, prompting you to do the same. "You talked to him, didn't you? I specifically fucking said–"

"Can you just listen?" you sigh. "We have a project together." His brows scrunch intimidatingly, making it harder to say what's on your mind. "And this is unrelated but... he brought a gift to my doorstep."

He doesn't say anything for a few seconds. "Is there anything more I should listen to? Are you done?"

"H-he said he'd stop acting weird and respect our relation–"

"Fucking bullshit. What, did he also say he just wants to be friends? That he's not interested in you anymore?"

"He didn't say that–"

"And you didn't tell the professor you wanted a different partner? Did you keep the gift too?" he sneers mockingly.

"Jungkook, I can't switch, and no I didn't keep the freaking gift," you defend, feeling offended. He can be so provocative when he's mad. It isn't even your fault! "I'm telling you, there's nothing I can do except to convince him to work together online. Isn't that better?"

He grabs your jaw and pulls you a little closer. His grip is bordering on painful and you hold back a wince. "Are you fucking hearing yourself? You can't even be around him and yet you're not allowed to switch? Listen to me. You go to that fucking professor, tell him this guy is harrassing you and that you can't work with him, and if they don't listen, you go the headmaster. You hear me?" he slightly jolts you to command an answer.

"Y-Yes, but–"

"Don't make any fucking excuses," he hisses and lets go of your face. "If you don't do something about it while I'm giving you the chance, then I will."

You hold onto your chin as you meekly question, "what will you do?"

"Things don't need to escalate," he shrugs as he lies back down. "I'll threaten him with my pocket knife and one wrong word from him, I'll use it."

"Like kill him?" you exclaim in shock.

He rolls his eyes. You take him too seriously sometimes. "No. Just send a message. Now go run off to your professor before I ask Yoongi to be my alibi."

#yall wanna know how jk would do it? 😩#my mans would beat up the poor guy and then hang out w his friends so he can have an alibi in case yeonjun reports him #WEEWOOOWEEEEWOOOOO #textbook love

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peachyqueenly · 4 years ago

Text

The Night of Witches

Rated: T

White Lily Cookie goes to The Night of Witches seeking answers... but this time, she is not alone. Will this affect how Fortuna writes the story?

Link to it on AO3 (if you prefer to read it there): https://archiveofourown.org/works/31830856

//Quick note before we start!!

Firstly, I'd like to thank my friends Lou and Cas (if either of you are reading this, mwah mwah thank you for your help besties!!) for helping me proofread!!! Yall are the best and your suggestions definitely helped bring this work to life <3.

Secondly, feel free not to click this link until you either a. reach the part where they appear or b. finish the entire story, but here is a link to the design for an OC (or alt design, if you will) that appears here. I find having a visual reference helps me, so: https://twitter.com/PeachyQueenly/status/1399134036359106567?s=20.

Finally, just in case, a fair warning that there is an injury (someone loses a finger) and a death in here. I don't think I wrote it too graphically, but pay heed to the T rating.

Such a solemn place...

White Lily had told him it was just an evening trip. Nothing specific, just that she had some business to attend to outside the soaring peaks and sweet valleys of the Vanilla Kingdom. She told him not to worry himself to the point of crumbling... and at first, he felt bad for not believing her mournful eyes.

But now? He was glad to have trusted his judgement rather than her words... for once.

The smell of burnt dough and... batter? Like the lingering smell of the occasional Cake Hound attack. That was the first thing that registered in Pure Vanilla’s senses as he got lost in his friend’s frantic mumblings. Then, he noticed how dark and dreary this place was compared to the sunshine that blessed their home. Even in the deep shrubbery that was White Lily’s personal residence, the faint traces of sunlight could be seen in the sprawling vegetation was in no doubt comforting to one such as her.

Here, however? Nothing but darkness and a foreboding sense that something was... off. As if this was a place no mere Cookie was meant to be.

“The Night of Witches...”

The Night of Witches? He recalled hearing about that back in the two’s school days. Though, no Cookie was able to learn much beyond its name. Something about it being too dangerous for them. Or those who devoted themselves to its research leaving one day— like Lily did after her crime, only to never return. Sentencing their knowledge to secrecy forevermore.

That would all change tonight.

Pure Vanilla had situated himself not far from the display of desserts Lily herself hid behind. That’s when he saw... them.

Even more towering than those grand displays were three figures; cloaked in dark robes and large hats not so different from what the practicing wizards he helped train wore. Yet, their hats lacked the crispy charm their waffle cone attire had. Those jagged edges bringing with it an air of uneasiness—unlike the soft breezes that passed through his kingdom’s canyons.

“...AND WOULD YOU LOOK AT THESE! THEY LOOK AMAZING!”

… huh?

“PHEW! I BAKED A TON OF COOKIES!”

Cookies? Were these the celestials that blessed them with life—

“HERE, TRY ONE! YOU’RE GONNA LOVE IT!”

The crack that reverberated through the air could only be matched by one from all those years ago— that glass-shattering sound which marked his last day as a student of the Blueberry Yogurt Academy. Pure Vanilla never imagined there would be a sound more frightening and life changing than that.

… and yet, that crunch of a Cookie—one of their own—being bitten into. It was enough to turn even one as pure and sweet as he into a trembling mess. One hand covering his mouth as to contain the emotions that threatened to spill out as tears and screams.

White Lily, meanwhile, had never been able to maintain her composure well. Even back when she committed her original sin, the immediate regret and despair she felt was evident in her cries. And her inability to escape the doomed school without the help of her dearest friend. So, it came as no surprise that this revelation sent her into a spiral of mutterings, shaking, and... resolve? No, that last one was surprising. Her insistence that Cookies she hardly knew must escape was a sign of just how much stronger their endeavors with the other three had made her.

All her courage was met with were eerie smiles and silence, however. Perhaps these Cookies had already met their fate... doomed to become the next generation of tragedies.

How cruel... how defeating, Vanilla thought. No one deserved this.

“I...”

“--AAAAAH!”

Pure Vanilla’s eyes shot open as he watched the one dearest to him back away in despair, only to then fall backwards. Off the table edge she was so precariously situated upon. From his view, he had little idea what awaited her... but he was not about to let her find out.

He was not about to let her be subjected to more suffering than she already had.

The beholder always on his person could only glare and roll its eye as Vanilla threw it aside and dashed forward. Jumping into action—literally. He pushed himself forward with the swiftness of the wind, and his hand soon met with her own bandaged one.

He pulled Lily back over the table... throwing himself into the maul of the beast in her stead.

Pure Vanilla could only smile as gravity took hold of him. Smile as he always did... even as the rising heat threatened to crumble him before his body even touched that sickly-looking dough below. Regret could come later. For now, relief came out as a few stray tears and a soft whisper, "Thank you, gods—”

…

White Lily only sat there, wide eyed and shaking as she tried to process what on Earthbread just happened. The soft plop of Vanilla’s poor body made her feel the five four stages of grief in just ten seconds. Denial: there was no way this was happening. Anger: why did this have to happen; why did they have to continue to suffer? Bargaining: please, let the hands of time turn back and reverse this. Depression: this was all her fault.

Acceptance was the logical next step, but it was far too early for such a thing.

Her mouth opened and closed as wordless breaths came from trembling lips. Until, finally, she tried uttering one thing, “Vanilla—”

“WHOSE COOKIE IS THAT?”

Lily quickly covered her mouth, both to stifle her frightened voice and hold back the bile she felt bubbling up. Quickly, she took cover behind a stray plate covered in desserts. Such a sight didn’t do much for the sick feeling in her gut, but at least it offered her cover from the stares of those witches and ever-smiling Cookies.

“LOOK, IT FELL INTO THE ULTIMATE DOUGH!”

Fell? Into the Ultimate Dough? She had little to no idea what this Ultimate Dough was, or what it meant for Pure Vanilla. However, that was perhaps more terrifying than at least knowing her friend’s fate.

“”T’IS ALRIGHT! LET’S JUST BAKE IT AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS!”

… Huh?

“YEAH, LET’S BAKE IT!”

No... please—

“LET’S SEE WHAT FORTUNA HAS IN STORE!”

Thick streams of syrup ran down White Lily’s face. She wanted to scream for this all to cease so badly, and she probably would have if she could. This couldn’t be happening. This endless night... their endless suffering had to end eventually, right? From their mad dash into the night following the destruction she caused, to this night they were taught was beyond sacred...

Her endless mistakes couldn’t continue to doom them both, right!?

She could only sit and watch as those cruel hands of theirs began to knead the dough. How each tool so effortlessly and callously did its job: the flattening done by the rolling pin... the cutting of the dough with a tool she remembered gliding her hand across all those years ago. How cold and hollow such metal had been...

Was Pure Vanilla feeling all of this? All the, no doubt, painful experiences such cruel gods wrought?

White Lily became consumed by thoughts such as these. It was all so gut-wrenching to watch, and yet she couldn’t pull her gaze away. It was all so disturbingly mesmerizing.

Soon, many bodies laid across baking sheets normally used as parchment by Cookies. Could one of them be the friend she’d go to hell and back to save? She almost hoped none of them were. As the unfortunate fate of these Cookies was not lost on her.

How could it be? Such a loud crunch left a stain no amount of scrubbing and scratching could rub off.

All those poor, unfortunate souls were then moved over to the oven almost every Cookie escaped from. Perhaps what were once thought as gods had finally grew tired of their endless torture and torment... for now, at least. Soon, they’d move from simply trying their handiwork to...

No, Lily couldn’t bear to remember what The Night of Witches meant for the Cookies who fell victim to it. To witness to it all again.

She needed to get out of here. Fast.

Trembling, White Lily began forcing her old, tired limbs to move. Her staff acting as a cane to support the weight of both her body, which felt on the verge of crumbling, and her new sins. Someone needed to get out of here. Someone needed to tell this story.

Pure Vanilla’s sacrifice couldn’t be for nothing.

… That was when a wave of doom washed over her. This feeling... this... scent. She knew it well. The smell of molasses and pomegranates: Black Magic unique to the priestesshood they visited as young wizards. How... could the witches have gotten a hold of such magic?

And, more importantly, why did magic familiar to her fill Lily with such fear?

She was given no time to theorize. Rather than the sound of breaking glass or crunching of their fragile bodies, the clanking sound of metal vibrated throughout the room. Catching the attention of anyone conscious to it: including the witches and White Lily. The oven doors... they were slammed wide open through no fault of the ones using them. Whatever the answer was to her previous inquires, it was coming. Soon. She could feel it.

A whisper fell from her lips, “What—”

“Ha... HA.... AH HA HA HA HA HA!”

If her magenta irises could widen any more, they did so as that howl echoed around her. A familiar yet twisted laugh. One that was far too sickeningly sweet to mean good fortune.

It can’t be—

“Haaa... who could have known?” relief and a newfound truth came from the reborn Cookie’s lips. A truth as clear as the finest sugar crystals. “Who could have known it was so simple!! All the world’s problems... they all have one simple answer!!”

Another clang of metal reverberated as it slammed the fork-turned-staff against the oven. The loud noise awakening the thing on its aforementioned staff—revealing a burning cyan iris. Such an intense stare could serve as a declaration of its own, but the staff’s commander still offered its own words to those there to bear witness, “Witches... Cookies... truly, none of them have the right, nor should be given the privilege, to define our fate.”

This can’t be real.

“Reborn in a new body... and with a new name. Yes, you lot may call me Black Molasses Cookie—the one true god of this world.”

Pure Vanilla?, White Lily thought: dumbfounded and speechless.

The Witches, meanwhile, gave Black Molasses not a second of respite. Or rather, one Witch didn’t. That one fool amongst them lunged forward in an attempt to grab what was meant to be a tasty treat to them. No doubt to crush and then... eat him. He was just a Cookie, after all. What harm could he truly cause?

“Ha... foolish—”

Two eyes opened and glared at those who should terrify all Cookies: one a familiar cyan to the trembling wallflower, and the other a red that burned a hole straight through her very soul. “As I just said...” he declared “Only I get to define our fates!!”

Seeming to know what its master wanted, a soft glow emanated from the staff before a beam was fired straight towards the Witch. That which wiped one of her elongated fingers clean off. Not a drop spilled from the cauterized wound, but the smell of burning... something made Lily feel even sicker than she already did.

Meanwhile, Black Molasses laughed as his first victim wailed in agony, “HA HA!! That’s what—” his incoming tirade was interrupted when those wails and screams of the Witches turned into a mad dash, “Awww, leaving so soon? Don’t forget—you left your cakes in the oven!!”

Everything happened so fast. Cake beasts arose at the slam of his staff— awakened by its call. Their feral growls and gnawing were not directed at Cookiekind this time, however. Instead, they chased after the fleeing Witches. Bearing their fangs until they found something to sink their fangs into.

White Lily could only stare in horror at what it was.

Pained and agonized screams left the Witch who, just moments ago, had the misfortunate of losing a finger. If only all she lost tonight was that finger. Now, the beasts’ crunching fangs tore at what was left of her withering body and corrupted soul. Until not a single wail was left. And all that filled the air was a metallic scent and the howling of beasts all too pleased with their work.

“Remember this night well, everyone!!! As, tonight, I have shown the world why I am to be the one who divines and rules above all!!”

The Cakes howled louder at such a declaration.

No. No, this couldn’t be... this wasn’t her dearest friend—

“Waah...”

Finally, a much more pleasant sound registered in White Lily’s senses. A child’s voice. How had she not noticed someone so young was but a few steps away from her. Were they cowering there the entire time? Alone? Regardless, she wouldn’t let them be alone for any longer. “Young one, Do you... we need to...” A surprised gasp came as, upon closer inspection, she noticed, “Your arm—!!”

“My, my~ and what do we have here?”

There was no time for her to push the issue. Quickly, White Lily assumed a defensive position in front of the young Cookie. Or... as defensive of a pose she could assume.

Her gaze betrayed her. For the agony and fear behind her eyes served to show just how despaired she truly was. Just how much she looked at Black Molasses and knew one thing: this was all her fault. Whatever happened next could’ve been prevented if it weren’t for her twisted, curious mind. White Lily had no right to convince him otherwise, and yet she persisted, “Vanilla, I—”

“Ah, you still see that old fool in me, do you now?” not a single ounce of respect was given to what Black Molasses considered a mere fragment of his past, “Tell me, dearest Lillia.” he jeered, “You saw the same thing we all saw. You, me, and even that child... yet you look on at my divine judgement in fear. Why?”

“I...”

He sighed. “Perhaps you consider my methods too cruel? Too beneath Cookies meant to help others?” with every word used to poke at her resolve, he took a step closer to both Lily and the child she kept guard over—blue flames rising and dancing from the back of his gown, “And what of you, young one? What do you think of this night Cookies are told is blessed and holy?”

“Leave them out of--”

“Black... Molasses Cookie...?”

“There, there. I hear you, child.” with a flick of his staff, White Lily was hoisted into the air and thrown to the side like a toy who had long outlived its value. A helpless yelp punctuated the thud that followed. Black Molasses didn’t seem to mind, though. Instead, his focus shifted towards the kid, “You who lost your arm— no doubt to those infernal Witches— understands the need for the world to be rebuilt, yes?”

The child nodded, “Hm... I guess... yes.”

“Then follow me.” A gentle smile accompanied his invitation. “I can not only provide that which you need, but I can also show you a better world. One built in my image... I need but your name and devotion.”

“... Red... Velvet Cookie.” the young one responded. The simple act of sharing his name serving as an allegiance to this new Cookie’s vision.

“I see, Red Velvet...” Black Molasses mused as his hand met with the velvet-soft locks of Red Velvet’s hair. Then, his attention turned back towards Lily, “And as for you~”

The previous impact had left White Lily rather shaken and dazed, on the border of consciousness and unconsciousness. Really, it was surprising she wasn’t out like a light by now. What with the exhaustion that came with tonight’s events and the thud she had experienced earlier.

“Still awake, are we?” a crooked smile, and then Black Molasses held her chin in his hand. Directing what little of an attention span she had left towards him. Only him, “Consider my mercy, in spite of your waywardness, a blessing.” he leaned in close, crooning into her ear “I have great plans regarding you. For now, have sweet dreams... then, warn the world of my name.”

Black Molasses then let Lily’s head drop back down before turning his back to her. Leading Red Velvet away from his disciple with some remaining doubts and back towards the oven. They had a great deal of baking to do, after all. Plenty of baking... especially of one particular soul who deserved the ultimate payback.

“... not that any such warning will stop me, of course.”

And with that, White Lily slipped into unconsciousness. That sickeningly sweet laughter lingering in the air as she hoped this was all just one bad dream...

//Hello!! Peach (Katie) here!!!! I'd like to thank you for reading my work-- it means a lot to me that anyone would be willing to check out my writing. Trying to figure out both White Lily's internal conflicts, and how Black Molasses would differ from Dark Enchantress, was a lot of fun. I definitely want to revisit this AU both in writing and drawing over time!!

If you would be interested in anything else I do (as I'm primarily an illustrator), check me out on Twitter @peachyqueenly, A03 @Peach_KT, and instagram @peach_kt. Thank you so much again, and I look forward to bringing everyone my next creation.

Quick credit to Cookie Run Kingdom for some of the lines-- as some were remained unchanged or slightly edited to fit the scene.

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #white lily cookie #pure vanilla cookie #cookie run oc #black molasses cookie #red velvet cookie

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