#my bosses have lied to my face. lied about me to my coworkers and parents. ive been quiet about it just praying for it to stop or to get out
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yatiso · 2 months ago
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you only deserve as much respect as you have integrity
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tangylemonade · 6 months ago
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NO ONE ELSE
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Jeonghan x afab reader
(The reader wears feminine clothes and is referred to as pretty etc.)
18+ MINORS DNI (istg 🫵🏾 ಠ_ಠ if I catch you)
Word count: 9.7k
꧁ ☂︎ (angst) & ⚠︎ (smut) w/ a pinch of ☁︎ (fluff) ��
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WARNING: unprotected sex (don't forget the casing before you stuff your sausage), kidnapping, cursing, description of abuse, Jeonghan smokes, Jeonghan’s in a gang, mentions of injuries, reader has toxic parents. Please let me know if I missed anything.
P.s. I am aware that it’s no longer recommended to wrap fractured ribs but my goodness let me have this (•‿•)
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You were never a one night stand kind of person.
It felt too… vulnerable. Too scary.
You didn’t know how to just give yourself to someone you don’t even know. To trust them with a raw view of you. To trust them with something so intimate.
It had been a long week. A long month. A long year.
You were beyond exhausted and quite honestly ready for a change.
Falling asleep filled with that expensive bottle of wine you never felt special enough to drink you woke up with a fire in your heart. A spark that needed kindling.
And now on this tepid Wednesday morning while you laid in bed long past your alarm you felt more energized than ever.
Getting up you showered before finally checking your phone. Your boss called and you had a few text messages from your coworkers.
You lied about being up all night with fever and called out sick. You’d never done anything of the sorts before so no one even questioned it. One coworker even offered to bring you soup which you politely declined.
You did a face mask that claimed to plump your skin and after that you put on a little makeup. Standing in a lingerie set you bought at some point for a boyfriend you never even slept with, you tried on your only pair of heels.
No one would see you like this tonight except yourself but you didn’t mind at all. It still made you feel sexy, something you hardly thought about yourself.
Digging in the depths of your closet you found that one dress you kept tucked away for special occasions. Your heart did a little flip thinking that maybe it didn’t fit anymore but thankfully with a little shimmy as you pulled up the form fitting dress it still fit like a glove.
Catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on the way out the door you did a double take. The dress fit you perfectly, accentuating your every curve nicely. Your hair was done and all together with some makeup on you felt pretty. The prettiest you’d felt in a long long time.
You couldn’t help smiling.
Rasasy was a small restaurant that you’d often pass by but never went into. It always looked lovely and quaint and the scent would carry through the street making you hungry on your way home.
It was quiet with a few people enjoying their dinners while chatting away happily with their partners.
The food took its time coming as it was cooked upon order but it was completely worth it.
Taking another bite you looked around taking in the atmosphere. Soft piano music was playing quietly and the booth you were sitting in was warm and cozy.
You found yourself looking to see if you were the only person eating alone. In a beat your eyes locked with a man who must’ve been the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. Sitting alone at the table to your right he took a sip of his red wine before giving you a disarming smile.
Without too much unnecessary thought you smiled at him and went back to your meal with your heart a flutter.
When you were finished you called the waitress to ask for the check. While you waited you glanced over at the beautiful man’s table but he was gone.
Your heart sank a bit and you shook your head laughing at yourself. What would you even say anyway?
“The bill was already paid for.” The waitress said with a smile.
“Paid for? Why? By who?” you said.
Somehow you already knew.
“The gentleman at table 3. He requested that you’d be given this note as well.”
“Thank you.” You whispered, feeling a little giddy.
The waiter simply smiled with a knowing twinkle in her eyes before heading away.
You waited until you got in your car, buckled in, started it, and took a deep breath before mustering the courage to unfold the note and read it.
-
Hello gorgeous
I didn't want to bother you because you looked so peaceful. I’d love to join you next time.
Jeonghan
+82-3-067-1005
-
The handwriting was a little sloppy yet had a unique elegance to it.
As you moved the paper you caught a whiff of a heavenly scent. Was that how he smelt?
Something regal…like an aromatic green tea and…. cigarettes. Not the cheap kind, the expensive ones that smelled sweet and warm.
“Oh who am I kidding.” You said to yourself with a wistful sigh before tucking the note into your bag. You often talked to yourself aloud to sort your thoughts.
“The lighting at the restaurant was very dim and romantic. Maybe he’s just drunk and lonely. Maybe he’s just playing a game. Maybe he has fun every night and I seemed like an easy target because I was alone and looked pitiful.”
But then a different thought popped into your head.
It came as a whisper.
‘Maybe… just maybe he wants to get to know me.’
The little thought echoed through your head silencing the others while turning your face vibrant with warmth.
Tomorrow. You’d call tomorrow.
Pacing back and forth you couldn’t decide when the moment was right.
What if he thinks you’re a freak for calling so early? Maybe you should wait another day so you don’t seem desperate. Maybe you should’ve called last night and he doesn't even remember you. Maybe you could just text him? Maybe…
You hit call and squeezed your eyes shut while the phone rung.
“Hello?”
A voice filled your ear, soft and smooth
“Oh sorry Hi! Uhm this is Y/N. From last night. You gave me your number…” you heard yourself starting to ramble and wanted to die.
“Wow! I didn’t think you’d call.”
Your face fell in horror.
“Oh my I’m so sorry I-“
“I’m happy you did. I was sure you thought I was a weirdo or something. I felt so stupid but I figured you were worth the try.”
Your words caught in your throat while you tried to process everything.
“Hello? Are you still there?” He asked tentatively over the line.
“Yeah.”
Your words came out in a bit of a whisper.
“Perfect! So… do you want to get coffee or…”
“Yeah. Oh uhm yeah coffee would be- I could always drink coffee.”
“Are you busy? We could meet up today?”
“No, I'm off. How about Colvers? It’s new but I heard they make good coffee and the sandwiches aren’t half bad.”
“That sounds great! How does 2:30 sound?”
“Great!”
You caught yourself sounding a little too enthusiastic and tried to tone it down. “So.. I’ll uhm see you there?”
“See you.” He said with a light chuckle before hanging up.
A date. You have a date. A beautiful, gorgeous date.
“I’m gonna vomit!” you declared, collapsing on your bed with a groan.
You laid there for a little bit playing in your hair and suddenly giggling like a little school girl before hopping up and heading to the shower. You hummed the whole way through as you dolled yourself up and sorted through your things in an attempt to find the best and prettiest casual clothing you owned.
Checking the time you did your final touches before rushing out the door in fear of being late even though you were leaving early.
You arrived 30 minutes early and thanked god for your insight because it was a little busy but you still managed to find a good table.
You ordered their signature sandwich as a late breakfast, hoping you could finish it before he got there.
The sandwich took a little while to come but god was it worth it. You chewed with your eyes closed, savoring the warm and spicy goodness.
“Can I have a bite?”
You nearly choked as your eyes flew open at the sound of a smooth and sultry voice.
You quickly chewed and swallowed, taking a swig of your water. Your eyes pricked with tears as you forced the not fully masticated bite down.
“Have you considered filming a commercial? The way you’re eating makes that look really good.” He said with a smile that made you feel a little (a lot) hot around the collar.
“Sorry. I skipped breakfast.” You sort of mumbled as you self-consciously set your sandwich on your plate. “I don't drink coffee well on an empty stomach so I figured I’d eat before you got here.”
“Same. Can I have a bite?”
You blinked at him. “A bite?”
“Can’t I?” He did a head tilt that would’ve seemed innocent if not for that sparkle in his dark brown eyes.
You nodded slowly and slid the plate towards him with a hand that was now shaking a bit.
He picked up the sandwich, turning it around and looking at it before taking a bite right where you had.
Your mouth watered as you watched him chew.
Fighting yourself to look back at his eyes you saw something mischievous reflecting back at you that sent your skin fluttering with goosebumps.
He chewed slowly before swallowing and swiping the corner of his lips with his thumb.
“This really is good.”
“Yeah uhm.. do you want to order one…” you said, raising your hand to call the waiter.
He grabbed your hand and pulled it down to the table with a smile.
“Nah it’s okay. I’ll just steal more of yours, only if you don’t mind of course.”
He looked at you waiting for a response.
“Oh I don’t mind.” You said, not entirely sure why it didn’t bother you when you weren’t normally a big sharer. That was one of the reasons you were so lonely. It feels hard to give these days.
The waiter brought over an icy glass, setting it in front of Jeonghan and physically cutting the tension that was building as you watched him take another bite.
He sipped the cold glass of tea, his pink lips wrapping around the straw.
“What is it?” You asked as you picked up the sandwich and took a bite, your bite overlapping with his. You internally rolled your eyes as your heart did a little skip. What were you, in grade school?
But why did the sandwich taste even better this time?
“Iced green tea w/ honey and half cream. It’s good.” He said while pushing the glass towards you.
“Ohh sounds good.”
You weren’t sure if it really did sound good or if the thought of wrapping your own lips around his straw was clouding your common sense.
What in the world was this man doing to your dormant and CLEARLY desperate body?
You hesitated for a moment, looking up at him and catching his gaze again.
Without a second thought you put your lips around his straw taking a quick sip, the cool drink washing through your now hot body.
Jeonghan watched you for your reaction and you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes flicker to your pursed lips.
“Oh it is good. Maybe I should order that instead of a coffee.” You said. The tea was not too sweet and pleasantly refreshing.
“I’m telling you. You have a future in advertising.” He said with a shake of his head and a dangerous smile. So charming it disarmed you and suddenly you were smiling too.
If you from a week ago saw you now she would have a heart attack.
You didn’t end up ordering your own tea. You shared his drink with him leaning in to take sips and exchange wistful conversation.
Here you were sitting with a complete stranger sharing spit before you even learned each other's last names.
“So tell me more about yourself? What do you do for work?” He asked, walking alongside you, his hand gently brushing into yours as you stepped in sync.
It was a beautiful day and Jeonghan had suggested a park date. You went on a couple dates before but you always picked activities. Not as much talking time as there was physical bonding like pottery classes and movies. You two finished a quick picnic of sandwiches before going for the walk. It felt nice to talk with him in such a relaxed way as you strolled side by side along the sunny path.
“I work in banking.” You said with shrug
“Ohhh sounds fun.” He teased.
You laughed. “Ehh. It’s not bad and it pays well enough. What about you?”
You did a quick intake of the man walking beside you.
His shoulder length black hair was silky and smelled of a soft warm scent every time he turned his head to talk to you.
His slender stature was fitted in crisp yet simple black jeans and tee that you knew could only be from an expensive store.
“Family business. Nothing exciting like banking but hey.” He said with a chuckle.
“That’s nice! It's just me here so it can get pretty lonely.”
“Even with family it can also get pretty lonely. Do you have any close friends?”
You shrugged before awkwardly laughing “Do you count?”
Jeonghan playfully knocked his shoulder into yours. “Absolutely I do.”
You stopped and looked at him, smiling softly before shaking your head.
“What?” He said with his signature head tilt.
“What planet are you from Yoon Jeonghan?”
He laughed and turned his body fully towards you, leaning against a nearby tree. “What do you mean?”
“You’re just such…a- a.”
“Weirdo?”
You laughed. “What? No! You’re such a treat.”
His smile dropped a bit before quickly lifting into a smirk. You saw an indistinguishable emotion in his eyes that was gone as quickly as it appeared.
“Sorry. It’s just I- I’ve sortve been living in this weird little me bubble and the one day I suddenly decided to pop it you showed. It felt like fate… I mean you’re just so lovely…” Your voice trailed off. Your face was burning bright as Jeonghan's eyes watched you intently.
The breeze flittered his hair into his face as if it too couldn’t resist the desire to caress him.
“You’re trouble aren’t you?” He asked in an almost whisper.
“What? Me? Hardly. Besides, I’m not the one giving my phone number on flirty notes to strangers.” You smiled, playfully poked his arm as you spoke.
“Well a beauty like you is non-ignorable. I had no choice.”
“No choice huh.” You continued to quip in an attempt to distract your body from its desire to overheat in Jeonghan's intoxicating presence.
“What? Do you just hit on every pretty girl you see?”
He held your hand that you hadn't realized was still resting on his arm and pulled you closer to him.
“Oh! That reminds me…” he said, moving his right hand and puling something from his pocket.
It was a small blue box that he opens right away and showed you.
You gasped. “These are so beautiful Jeonghan. I can’t-“
“You most certainly can. And you can them in right now.”
Carefully he placed the gift in your hands and rested his hands on your waste, holding you close.
You looked at the breathtakingly gorgeous emerald green studs a moment longer before carefully placing them in your ears. You didn’t own a single piece of jewelry. It was one of those luxuries you didn’t do for yourself and none had ever gifted you any.
Emotions swelled in your heart as you looked into Jeonghan’s eyes.
His gaze was so intense you thought you might combust on sight.
The sun was setting, painting a heavenly glow against his smooth gorgeous skin.
You leaned in before he did your lips touching his. He pulled you even closer to his invitingly warm chest as he fell into your lips embrace. Pulling back he cradled your face and gazed at you for a moment. Again his lips devoured yours as the kisses quickly filled you with ecstasy.
Eventually you both had to take a moment to breathe, his soft breath tickling your nose as he rested his forehead to yours.
You lifted your hand to his cheek while your other hand's fingers laced through the silky hair at the nape of his neck, pulled him in for another delicious taste.
His kisses spread heat through your body leaving you feeling dizzy and thoughtless.
He was completely and totally intoxicating. Green tea and cigarettes mixed with a soft scent you now knew to be him.
The tickle of his tongue on your lips was a magic spell telling your body to open to him and you complied. You pressed into him craving more as his nimble fingers pushed patterns into your skin like a sinful tattoo.
“Wow.” You whispered breathlessly.
He laughed. “I agree.”
Jeonghan looked up at the dimming sky.
“When did it get so late?” He said, concern evident in his voice. “ Let me drive you home.”
“What about my car then? I’ll text you when I get home, okay?” You were still feeling loopy off of him and couldn’t stop smiling.
“Then let me walk you to your car.”
You nodded, grabbing his hand and walking alongside him with that goofy smile still plastered on your face.
Jeonghan would sometimes text you good morning messages that had you feeling all giddy throughout the day. You found yourself smiling so much your coworker giggled and whispered to you “Someone got laid huh?”
“Oh stop.” You said swatting her away from you as you blushed thinking about how good Jeonghan probably could make you feel if his kisses had you this buzzed.
A couple weeks blew by and you talked nearly every day, both of you being too busy to meet up.
Holding your takeout in one hand and your bag and keys in the other you hummed while you tried to maneuver your house key into your hand.
A chilling breeze alerted your skin with goosebumps and you felt uneasy. Turning around you didn’t see anything out of the ordinary so you quickly and anxiously opened your door and ran inside. You locked both locks while trying to steady your pounding heart. Just then your phone rang causing you to nearly jump out of your skin.
You checked the caller ID. Why was Jeonghan calling so late? He never called at this time.
“Jeonghan?” You said through the line.
“Are you okay?” He said quickly, his voice sounding quick and low.
“Yeah I’m okay. I just got home. About to eat dinner.”
“Can I see you?”
“Now!?”
“Is that okay?”
“Well…”
“Sorry I didn’t mean to inconvenience you. Just…you’re okay right?”
“Yeah I’m okay. Why? What’s going on?” You asked, your voice sounding as shaky as you were feeling.
“No reason. I’ll leave you to your dinner-“
“No! I mean- uhm…come over.”
“Are you sure?”
He sounded so exhausted and it made your heart pang.
“Of course. I’ll text you my address.”
It was more than just wanting to see him, you were still feeling scared and you couldn’t shake the uneasiness despite telling yourself that you were just being silly. You wanted Jeonghan to hold you and make everything okay.
You paced back and forth in your kitchen until you heard the *pling* *pling* of your doorbell. You rushed to check through the peephole, the pit in your stomach beginning to unknot at the sight of the beloved man standing outside, his hair blowing in the night air, obscuring his face .
You quickly opened the door with a smile on your face.
“Come in, it's freezing out.” You said pulling him in by his hand without another look.
He kicked off his shoes hurriedly as you pulled him all the way into your kitchen and ran to the pan you had heating on the stove.
“Sit down. Did you eat dinner? I got takeout. It’s nothing fancy but I was just about to eat. It’s probably cold now so I’m just gonna heat it up except my microwave is broken and so I have to use a pan which actually is better because then it tastes…”
You had your back to him while you rambled and you suddenly felt his slender arms wrap around you, cutting your words short as they fell back down your throat, turning into butterflies in your stomach.
He rested his head on your shoulder and let out a sigh that sounded like he had the weight of the world crushing him.
“Jeonghan?” You held his hand and tried to turn around but he gently held you still.
Looking down you noticed his knuckles. They were bruised and bloodied!
“Are you okay?” You asked, worry flipping your heart and sending it pounding against your rib cage.
After turning off the stove you grabbed his arm and this time he didn’t resist as you lifted it, turning toward him.
A gasp fell from your lips at the sight of his beautiful face…battered and bruised. He licked his busted, swollen lip and smiled at you, wincing a bit from the pain.
“Oh my god! How do I not…Jeonghan what happened!” Your hands flew up to his face but only hovered, scared to hurt him any more than he already was. Jeonghan grabbed your hands, pulling them close and resting them on his chest, against his pounding heart.
“Family troubles.” He said with a crooked smile.
You sat him down at your table before quickly leaving to grab your first aid kit.
Opening the box you hesitated as you looked at the over-supplied kit your coworker bought you as a housewarming gift unsure what to even use.
“An ice pack would be great.” He said, helping you along with a humorous lilt to his voice that didn’t fit the situation.
“Right, sorry.”
You quickly rushed to your freezer and grabbed your ice pouch you bought at some point for your headaches and quickly tossed it to the back of your freezer when you realized it was of no help.
Gently you brought it to his cheek, pressing it slowly to gauge his pain.
“Sorry.” You said pulling back when he winced. “Does that hurt too much?”
“Not when you do it.”
He smiled again, gently holding on to your waist.
“Sorry. You’ll have to hold this while I clean your lip.”
He took the ice pack, his warm fingers playing with your now cold ones.
Grabbing ointment you put some on a cotton swab before leaning over and dabbing it gently on his pretty lips.
You looked up at Jeonghan, your eyes meeting his as he looked down at you.
In an attempt to catch your breath when you first arrived home you had unbuttoned a few buttons of your blouse. Right now he had a clean view down your shirt and into your barely there bralet that you wore on long days because bras drove you crazy and this one was comfortable. Comfortable and basically see through.
You didn’t mind at all and made no effort to move as you continued tending to his cuts.
“Anything else?” So asked softly.
You noticed a bruise peaking through the black silk of his shirt.
Jeonghan stared at you for a moment thinking through his next course of action. With a pensive expression he unbuttoned his shirt all the way, revealing litters of purple marks all over his upper torso.
“Oh m- Jeonghan, I'm not a doctor! You need to go to the hospital.” You felt tears stinging your eyes as the night's emotions already began to bubble over.
“No need. Nothing's broken. I’ll be fine.” He held your hand as he spoke, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
You felt his warm body shiver as you delicately traced the injuries on his skin with cool fingers. Jeonghan rested his hand on your hips, tentatively pulling you closer.
“I feel better already.” Jeonghan whispered.
His low voice sent tingles through every fiber of your essence.
“Jeonghan. What happened? Please...”
His hands rushed to your face, cradling it and catching your falling tears with his thumb.
“There are things that need to be done. When they don’t get done it’s only natural to pay the price.”
“What does that mean Jeonghan?” Frustration twisted with worry in your voice. “Do you need help?”
He shook his head.
“It means that I will do everything within my power to keep you safe.”
“Jeonghan…You’re scaring me.”
“It’s gonna be okay y/n.”
He sweetly gazed up at you, stroking your cheek. You found yourself leaning closer, seeking the warmth and comfort you knew he could give you.
Your lips touched, not as a kiss but rather to simply feel each other, the emotions passing between you stronger than words could understand.
With a tilt of Jeoghans chin he kissed you softly at first against your trembling lips. His hands firmly pulled you closer, your body slotting between his legs as he deepened the kiss. Your tongue caressed his bottom lip and you tasted his blood in your mouth as he opened himself to you desperately.
His fingers hungrily wandered, leaving fire in their path.
Immediately undoing the rest of your buttons you slid your shirt off your shoulders, dropping it on the floor beside Jeoghans.
His hands squeezed your thighs encouraging you to straddle him.
“Are you..” you could barely speak as Jeonghan continued kissing you. “…sure it won’t…mhhh…hurt?
His only response was a moan against your lips before he pulled you into his lap, putting an end to your hesitation. Feeling worrisome about touching his injured body you laced your fingers through his hair.
Your hips took the lead pressing against the hardness that was growing in his slacks. He groaned into your neck where he had now begun to kiss and suck the sensitive skin, a moan vibrating against your throat.
Jeoghan placed your hands against his chest, letting you know that it was okay to touch him.
Your skirt was now lifted and sitting at your hips leaving only the thin barrier of your underwear now dampened with your arousal. Sliding down your bralette he littered your breast with licks and kisses.
Undoing the button of his pants your shaky hands struggled with the zipper before finally pulling his cock from the dreadfully difficult blockade that was his clothing.
“Fuck…” he breathed against your skin as you gently circled his tip, collecting the percum and stroking down his length.
His hands shot down to your aching core seeking to return the favor. He played with your swollen bud over damp underwear earning moans from you that had his cock twitching in your grasp. He slid your panties aside, slowly slipping two fingers into you.
Jeonghans hands were as nimble and graceful as they looked and you wondered if you would last much longer.
He pulled from inside leaving you aching with protest before you felt the tease of his tip to your dripping pussy lips. Standing to make it easier you watched as he guided his pretty pink cock into you, his length slowly disappearing until you were back flush against his lap.
With how long it had been since your last relation combined with his delicious size, you weren’t surprised by the pain of the stretch. Your eyebrows furrowed as you adjusted. Jeonghan kissed the corner of your lips, his hands massaging your hips while you breathed through the moment. Despite the twitch of his cock which you felt against your sensitive walls Jeonghan didn’t move, allowing you to take the lead.
He buried his face into your breasts, a string of swear words on his breath as your tight walls squeezed his throbbing cock.
When you began to rock he had to fight to steady his breathing before he blew it right then and there.
It truly had been too long for you. It didn’t take much more of his cock pressing all the right spaces in you before an orgasm came pulsing through your body. Jeonghan struggled to focus as he fought through the euphoric feeling of your fluttering pussy so that he could watch the scene that was you unraveling against him.
The beauty of your flushed face, kiss swollen lips, dazed eyes, and your softly furrowed brows had Jeonghan seeing stars.
You rested your head on his shoulder as you caught your breath.
Jeonghan waited until your heart calmed against him before he secured your hips in his hands and began lifting into you.
Shivers flittered down Jeonghan's spine as you moaned loud and clear in his ear.
Your feeling of overstimulation washed into the building of pleasure once again.
His hips began to stutter as he built closer to his release. You moved along with him and it wasn’t long before your walls were squeezing and pulsing around him again, this time pulling his orgasm into you in hot ropes. He rutted inside a few more times before wrapping his arms around your body and holding you close. You both began to settle from your high, the reality of the moments setting in.
Jeoghan was in your kitchen half naked and covered in bruises with his cock buried inside of you.
You must be going crazy because right now as you rested in his arms you felt safer than ever.
You woke up to an empty bed despite falling asleep in Jeonghan's arms. The memory of you guys pulling off the rest of your clothes and stumbling to bed played through your mind.
Your stomach growled, reminding you that you skipped dinner.
You rolled over to see a note where Jeonghan had been.
~
Sorry I had a few things to handle.
There’s breakfast on the table.
I hope I didn’t make you late for work ^_^
~
You smiled not even caring that you were absolutely going to be late.
The bathroom mirror was still a bit fogged over when you looked in it. You touched your earring and smiled to yourself.
“I should’ve woken up earlier and showered with him.” You said to yourself regretfully, quickly showering so you could enjoy the breakfast he left to you. The towel he used was slightly damp and it smelled like him. You used it to dry off even though you had more than one and hurriedly lotioned and got dressed.
Jeonghan had left you a coffee that was still warm and a breakfast sandwich from Clovers. You thought your face would break from how much you were smiling but you couldn’t help that soaring feeling on your heart as you grabbed the food and headed out the door.
The hairs on your neck stood up tall as you walked toward your house. It was the same stressed and scared feeling you felt the other night. The streets were being cleaned in the morning so you had to park farther down. You walked quickly as nerves began to set in halfway home. Glancing behind you you saw nothing but when you turned back around you crashed into a big tall man. You were unable to see his face before someone grabbed you from behind, holding a damp cloth over your nose until everything started to blur. You fought and fought with all your fading might, dropping your things on the ground before your body fell numb and everything went black.
Awakening to the ringing sound in your ears you squeezed your eyes tighter to gather your bearings. Examining yourself you found a bandage wrapped around your wrists and chest. It hurt as you breathed in. Your attempt to sit up was cut short by your body collapsing back on the bed, pain shooting throughout and settling into your head as a heinous migraine.
Cautious breaths were your anchor as you slowly looked around the dark room. Adjusting to the dark you noticed the faint orange glow of a cigarette burning by the window.
Fear ripped through your heart as every alarm fired off in your head.
You weren’t alone.
Using all of your strength you pushed your back against the headboard as you felt around for anything that could be used as a weapon. A gentle breeze from the open window blew through, bringing a familiar scent to greet your nose.
“J-Jeonghan?” Fear turned into confusion and then terror.
“You’re awake?” His voice came, soft and warm like a blanket covering you.
He stood up and stepped closer to you revealing the slouch of his tired frame. Bathed in blue light you could see fresh cuts and bruises on his face.
“Here, drink this.” He said offering you a water bottle.
You only just noticed how thirsty you were but you shook your head and pushed your body further away from him.
“Please, you must be thirsty. It’s unopened.” He said, switching on nightstand light and showing you the sealed bottle.
You took a moment to mull it over before tentatively accepting the drink. Your action was cut short as pain shot through, forcing you to wrap your arms around yourself.
Jeonghan rushed beside you, his hands instantly resting on your arms as his concerned eyes scanned your body. Save for the bandages around your chest and ribs your upper torso was bare, revealing the dark brushing that littered your upper torso.
“Let me help you.”
Jeaoghan opened the bottle and brought it to your mouth, his hand gently cradling your face carefully avoiding you painful bruise on your chin. Without hesitation you parted your lips allowing him to pour a few sips into your mouth. Your throat rejoiced at the relief while your stomach made you aware of its hollowness with a growl.
Jeonghan gazed down at you in his close proximity.
“What's going on?” You shakily whisper to him. “Everything hurts so…ugh…so much.”
A frown wrinkled Jeonghan’s beautiful face at your words and he looked away in shame.
“…Jeonghan?”
“You're safe. Rest here for a few days and then I’ll relocate you somewhere more comfortable. Kim will come later tonight.”
You blinked at him, no sound able to leave your mouth as you tried to process the moment.
With that Jeonghan stood up, grabbed his coat and headed for the door.
“Wait! Where are you going?” You asked, panic and distress filling you at the thought of him leaving you here alone.
“Don't leave me.” Your voice broke and you saw him hesitate, his hand frozen on the lock.
“Kim will be here soon.” He said quickly before slipping out, shutting the door airily behind him.
About an hour passed before a small slender woman possibly in her mid 40s walked in with a suitcase in tow behind her
“Hello.”
Her voice paired with her warm motherly smile felt gentle and sweet.
“You’re already looking better!”
She switched on the room light finally allowing you a clear view of the high end hotel room you apparently were staying in.
Kim went to the bathroom and came back with a basin of water.
“May I?” She asked, placing the bowl on the nightstand and ringing out the cloth.
You nodded and she began by wiping your face and then your hands. It felt soothing and the tension you felt from a stranger being in your presence began to fade.
“What’s goin-“
Kim shook her head, cutting you off without a word.
You looked at her with pleading eyes and her eyebrows tensed.
“Listen here now darling, it probably won’t make much sense but you helped save a lot of lives. A lot of innocent women and children.”
She looked at you with a soft smile. “The work that the Yoon family does isn’t very pretty and sometimes it’s down right awful. But there are people out there who are worse. And hopefully this group of worse people won’t be able to hurt any more good people.”
You were angry now. “That’s nice and all Kim but that doesn’t explain anything.” You frowned, speaking through gritted teeth as your brain struggled to sort things that just weren’t making sense.
Your heart was pounding, your ears ringing, and you were begging to feel nauseous.
“Come on doll, let’s get you washed up.
You wanted to be noncompliant but unfortunately you could really use a shower and you didn’t think you had the strength to get to the bathroom on your own.
You simply grumbled a thank you as Kim helped you to the shower and turned on the water for you. You didn't even mind when she helped you out of your clothes and bandages. She left you alone after that, only popping in to give you some toiletries and clothing.
You sunk to the floor of the tub in tears as your world crashed around you not even caring that your sobs were louder than the patter of the water against you.
You woke up to the shuffling sound of Kim’s footsteps. There was a bowl of savory smelling porridge steaming on the nightstand.
“Good! You're up!” Kim said cheerfully, making her way over to you.
You need to get something in that stomach of yours.
Kim had helped you with your hair last night by drying and plaiting it for you. You remembered Kim’s gentle hands tangling through your hair while you numbly sat on the cold floor. She had to practically drag you to bed but the moment your head hit the pillow you were out.
You pulled the covers around you. You were still naked save for the bandages Kim rewrapped for you and underwear you’d struggled to pull on. There was a t-shirt on the bed for you and you quickly pulled it on. Kim stirred the porridge and brought the spoon to her mouth checking the temperature as if you were a baby.
She set the tray down in front of you and placed the spoon in the bowl.
“Eat up. Please. You need your strength to heal.”
•••
They had you for two nights… maybe even three.
You were brought to a gaudy bedroom littered with alcohol bottles in every corner.. You were left there alone for a few hours before a woman, possibly in her late twenties, showed up.
She was concerningly skinny with a face that was pretty despite the bags under her eyes and the obvious drug use that bruised her body.
She took a moment to circle the pole you were chained to before scoffing.
“You’re not even that pretty.” She grumbled before landing a blow to your stomach, knocking the air from your lungs.
She would come in periodically to throw insults at you and hit you before eventually falling asleep on the bed. She was always inebriated, her words slurring together as she hissed at you with hot breath that reeked of liquor.
On the last night you heard the commotion of guns and yelling. She heard it as well and rage boiled in her eyes as she screamed and hit you harder than before. You felt the sickening crack of your ribs as you gasped for air and tried to stay awake.
When everything stopped you thought maybe you had died.
But you felt the warmth of a body, the familiar scent of green tea and cigarettes filling your bloodied nose. Once the chains were removed you fell into your savior's arms, unable to stand on your own.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got you…”
•••
You finish the porridge and curl up in bed feeling exhausted even though you hadn't moved an inch. You turned your face into the pillow but you were too tired to even cry.
When you woke up this time it was dark out. Moonlight danced through the room caressing your bare skin. Your skin flitted with goose bumps and you shot up scanning the room, your eyes landing on the figure leaning against the windowsill.
You pulled yourself up and leaned against the headboard so you could face him while you spoke.
“I want to go home.” You said, your voice sounding shakier than you’d hoped.
Jeonghan sighed and out out his cigarette before walking towards the bed, sitting at the foot of it.
“It’s not safe.”
“And why is that Jeonghan?” This time your voice sounded just as venomous as you wanted it to, the rage finally stronger than your fear.
“You’ll need to lay low for a while until things calm down.” His eyes intently watched your glaring ones as he spoke.
“You won’t be able to go back to your job so I’ll help you find something new and until then your needs will be taken care of.”
You looked away first, cursing yourself for the way your body still fluttered under his gaze.
“Can I ask you something?” You said as you fiddled with the blanket, rage subsiding and nervousness taking over again.
Jeonghan nodded.
“Why me? Did you really even…”
By now you had figured that it was all some twisted game that only you were missing the rules to. That you were just…bait?
He sighed again and rubbed his face tiredly before answering.
“You seemed…lonely. Like no one would notice if you went missing. You’re also very pretty.” He listed the reasons matter factly as if it was as casual as telling you the weather.
You wanted to protest but it was true.
Your family wasn’t just physically far away.
Your relationship with your mother and father became strained when you told them you didn’t want to keep sending money just for your little brother's addiction. They claimed it was for his rehab but he never went. Once they found his body you knew it was over. They blamed you and it was easier to leave entirely than deal with their constant bilgerance. When your job had a transfer available you didn’t hesitate. Sometimes at night you were haunted by the anger in your mothers eyes. To her, you were a witch who had killed her beloved son with your greed.
“That night that we... Why- why did you come to me? If I was just…if it was just…”
You couldn’t go on as the tears swallowed your words.
“Because I wanted to.” Jeonghan said nonchalantly.
You looked back at him with furious eyes.
“Listen.” He continued with a sigh, his tone more serious now. “ what happened- you didn’t deserve to get wrapped up in this. I’m sorry. Once I started to- I wanted to find another way.”
Emotions stormed through you, leaving you feeling confused and tired. Jeonghan's words offered little clarity, only giving way to more questions.
As Jeonghan watched your shaking eyes he wondered.
At what point did everything start feeling…real? At what point did he allow such a distraction to pull him away. It was never meant to be this way…and yet he found himself only thinking about you.
“What now?” You said, suddenly pulling Jeonghan from his thoughts. Your voice was soft against his tired mind.
“Safe house. Just for a moment while things settle. There’s still some cleaning up to do.”
You sighed and buried your face into the blanket.
A moment passed before Jeonghan spoke again.
“I’m not going to let anyone else hurt you. And that's a promise.”
For a reason only god knew, Jeonghan's voice still felt like a warm hug swaddling you tightly.
“Fuck. You.”
Your voice was muffled in the blanket but his sigh told you he heard you loud and clear.
That was the last bit of fight you had left. You already knew that no matter how messed up the situation was, you believed his every word.
The next morning you left for the safe house. The drive was long and the roads were whindy and yet you napped in the back seat while Jeonghan silently drove.
Jeonghan found himself peaking in the rear view mirror often to catch a glimpse of your peaceful face.
‘There’s a special place in hell for people like me.’ He thought to himself.
Not wanting to wake you or have you wake up alone, Jeonghan waited in the car despite having arrived 2 hours earlier.
Your eyelids fluttered awake as the sun beamed through the open car windows. Jeonghan was still in the driver's seat quietly speaking on the phone. His eyes shot to the rearview and he gave you a smile. Unfortunately it was just as charming as ever.
“Yeah I’ll call you back.” He said into the phone and hanging up before getting out of the car and opening the door for you.
You nearly tripped on your way out the car as you took in the view around you. The gorgeously quaint cottage house was surrounded by miles of luscious land. There were chickens clucking around and to your far left there was a horse grazing. It was beyond beautiful. It was dream-esque and… secluded?
“Did you bring me here to kill me?” You asked seriously.
He chuckled butterflies straight into your stomach and shook his head.
“If I wanted you dead, why would I bring you here? Why not just leave you with Stella?
All you could do was shrug.
“Stella? So that is the person I need to thank for the bruises.” You said with a forced laugh.
Jeonghan's lips tightened into a thin line, a flicker of anger crossing his elegant features at the sound of Stella's nasty name on your pretty lips. "Don’t concern yourself with that" he muttered, his voice dressed in bitterness and disgust. "She's...been dealt with."
With that he walked away, closing the conversation.
He opened the door for you, letting you walk in first before following and shutting the door behind you two. The house was lit beautifully golden with the sunsets glow.
You turned to him with your eyebrows furrowed.
"Dealt with?"
“The mouse pays for the cheese with it’s life.” He said with a nonchalant shrug as he walked to the kitchen
“Jeonghan!”
You raised your voice and crossed your arms feeling a bit like an indignant child.
“Hmm?” Jeonghan hummed back without even so much as looking at you. He was shuffling through the refrigerator.
“Did you use me as bait in some sort of twisted lovers spat?” You felt your blood boiling as your pulse quickened.
“Hardly.” Jeonghan said, his haphazard attitude now starting to tick you off.
“I’m already trapped in the middle of nowhere with you. The least you can do is look at me and give me a proper explanation!”
“Look.” He said suddenly slamming the refrigerator closed, walking towards you until he was so close you had to take a step back.
“Stella was never my lover or anything like that. She was some crazy bitch who we did trade with. The skank was fucking obsessed with me, always making advances. Anyway she was running some druggie club that took part in human trafficking and shit.”
He walked back to the kitchen now, angrily pulling things from the refrigerator while he spoke. You pulled yourself onto one of the counters and listened.
“You see it’s pretty well know that the Yoons don’t fuck with that kind of shit so we were obviously gonna be a problem. I guess her and a few other wannabes got together with a grand idea and put a hit on my family. To try and scare us off I suppose. We lost good men that night.”
He paused for a moment, his expression suddenly somber but he shook it off and continued.
“That was enough incentive to put an end to her shit but that rat was hard to find. Except I would get letters from her, sometimes super detailed with mentions of things that happened to me the night before. I had a little fun at Rosie’s House and the girl showed up the next day in bad shape. Told me I wasn’t welcome back anymore. That's when we got an idea.”
He stopped tossing out the old food from the refrigerator and turned to you before leaning against the counter, his arms on either side of your body.
Your breath hitch but you did your best to act unaffected by him.
“When I saw you at that restaurant I knew it would drive her crazy. You were absolutely stunning.” His eyes flickered across your body and your treacherous heart went leaping for him.
“It wasn't enough to sleep with you. She had to think I was really seeing you. That way she’d wanna snatch you up and figure out why, leading us right to her.”
He backed up and sighed. You took a few breaths, trying to steady your racing heart.
He leaned against the opposite counter, eyes still watching you as he thought over his next words.
“…She actually found you pretty early on. The night I’d shown up…the night we…Shit was supposed to go down that night but…anyway I couldn’t show up after screwing shit up so I…went to you..”
Jeonghan shrugged his shoulders. Looking down he began picking at a callous on his palm.
“How did you even find where she took me?”
He stood up straight and pointed to your ears before turning around and unpacking the new food he purchased during a pit stop on the way here.
“Are you hungry? There's some kimbap here if you’d like.”
You slowly touched your earrings as sadness pinched your heart..
“No thank you.” You needed a moment to collect your thoughts. “ I’m gonna go and wash up.
“Oh right. Let me show you your room.”
Your room was cozy and spacious. Without waiting for him to leave you kicked off your shoes and pulled your sweaty shirt over your head, tossing it into the basket in a corner that said laundry on it.
“I’ll leave you to it.” Jeonghan said as he turned away to head out.
“Wait—“
He quickly turned back around, inquisition painting his face and he tried to rapid fire reasons in his brains as to why you’d ask him to stay while you pulled off your clothes.
“Can you help me wrap a new bandage?”
He nodded slowly. “Sure. Just call me when you’re done.”
You nodded and he left, closing the door behind him.
Did you really just ask him to wrap the bandage for you? You laid your face in your hands in exhaustion. ‘Whatever’ you told yourself as you pulled off the rest of your clothes. ‘Not like he hasn't seen them already.’
You reasoned with yourself and decided that shyness wasn’t worth losing sleep due to pain. Angrily you took out the earrings and tossed them somewhere on the floor.
You showered as quickly as you could with your sore body before drying off and lotioning as best as you could. You rummaged through the duffel bag of toiletries and clothes that Jeonghan had given you, putting on deodorant and slipping on a pair of panties and sweatpants. You wrapped your towel back around you and took a deep breath that you instantly regret when you felt the pain shoot through you. The pain was also a reminder to suck it up and go find Jeonghan.
You poked your head out of your door. “Jeonghan?” You called softly as you looked around the hallway.
When you didn’t get a response you walked towards the door across from yours and knocked. You heard movement inside the room and Jeonghan pulled open the door with a gentle smile on his face.
“Come in.”
He pulled open the door all the way and walked into the room. You hesitated for a moment and he looked back at you, amusement obvious in the twinkle of his eyes.
“Sit here.” He gestured to his bed where he had a first aid kit already open.
You scowled at him before shuffling into the room and sitting on the bed. You tried not to think about how pleasantly the room smelled of him.
Sitting next to you he faced you and waited. When you didn’t budge he lifted his hands towards your towel, stopping in front of your folded towel.
“May I?”
You nodded in response and set your arms down to your side.
He untucked the towel, letting it fall to your hips and revealing the tender skin underneath.
The room felt cold and your face burned hot.
When he bent down to pick up a jar of cream off of the floor you noticed the bright red of his ears.
He showed you the jar of medicinal cream before opening it and carefully scooping some with his fingers. “This will help with the pain, the healing, and the bruising. Kim makes it for me.”
You watched his hands move with careful elegance and he gingerly rubbed your bruises with the cooling cream. The strong medicinal smell was relaxing as he worked.
His movements were soft and graceful as he did his best to focus on his work and not your perked nipples or the soft rounds of your breast.
Unrolling the bandage he tenderly wrapped the stretchy material around your chest that now ached for more reasons than just bruises.
You couldn’t help exploring his face as he worked. His skin was smooth save for his chin that had a little light stubble on it. His warm brown eyes squinted as he focused on his task, long straight eyelashes fluttering with every movement. His pink lips pressed into a line while his nose would scrunch in concentration.
There was still an heinously undeniable connection that tethered you to him, an energy that left you feeling breathless and warm.
"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.
Jeonghan's eyes met yours, his gaze softening with emotions you felt all too intensely.
He was now working the bandage upward to your breast and you could feel his hands slow.
He continued wrapping, his calluses finger tips grazing against your nipples sending your nerves into a frenzy. You swallowed, keeping your eyes on everything except him until he was finished.
Already feeling hot and bothered you felt a sense of relief wash over you now that his careful ministrations were complete.
You went to stand and he stopped you with a hand on your arm. Opening the cream again he took more out and began rubbing it into the bruise on your arm.
His fingers felt heavenly against your skin as he rubbed more into another bruise on your shoulder.
“Turn around.”
You complied, turning on the bed and showing him your back. This time his touch made you shiver as his nimble fingers traced along your spine.
“Sorry, you must be cold. I’m almost done.”
You felt disappointment settled in as his fingers pulled away from your tender skin.
He stood up and went to his drawer, opened it and pulled out a shirt.
“Here. Lift your arms a bit.”
You complied and Jeonghan carefully guided your arms through each arm hole before pulling the shirt over your head.
Jeonghan sat down on the floor in front of you, pulling up your pant leg.
“What are you doing?” You asked but didn’t pull your foot away from his warm hand where he cradled it.
“I noticed you walk with a bit of a limp.” He replied softly as he rubbed the cream into your ankle before taking another bandage and wrapping the slightly swollen joint.
He closed the jar and handed it to you.
“If you find any more bruises, rub this on them.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t.” His voice was quiet and suddenly cold.
You looked down, meeting his heavy eyes. Your ankle still rested softly in his hands making for a tense atmosphere as he held your gaze.
The expression on his face was unreadable as he carefully let you go and stood up.
Grabbing your hand he pulled you towards him, his body pressed against yours, his face inches away, his other hand holding your waist firmly against him.
Unmoving you breathed in sync as if you both had finished a complicated dance together. You felt the pounding of his heart against the pounding of yours.
“Jeonghan…”
The way you called his name made his head spin.
He let you go and backed away.
“I put the food in the refrigerator.” He said heading for the door. “You are welcome to do whatever you want here.”
“Wait! Are you leaving?” Your voice came panicked as you followed him out of his room.
“I’ve got things to do. I’ll be back tonight.” He said as you trailed behind him down the stairs.
“But Jeonghan… please.” You pleaded. Feeling too vulnerable to finish the sentence.
He turned to you this time.
“It’s okay. I’ll be back-“
You cut him off with a kiss, your arms thrown around his neck. As his shock faded, he rested his hands on your face, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss.
Your lips were so soft against his and when you parted your lips he found your taste to be intoxicating.
Wrapped in the moment it took him a little bit to notice that suddenly your body was shaking.
Pulling back he saw the tears rolling down your face.
As you clung to Jeonghan with all your might you couldn’t stop the flood of emotions that spilled out. Even after everything that happened he still felt so warm against you. As his arms wrapped around and pulled you close. you felt like everything would be okay.
Jeonghan held you just like that as you cried out the last couple weeks events.
In his arms your world crumbled.
So why was there nowhere else you wanted to be?
No one else you wanted to be with.
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PART 2
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ladylooch · 9 months ago
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Love & Fairness -[Nico Hischier]
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A/N: OPE! I LIED!!!! We do have a full fic for Sunday! The Nico and Lexi angst I've been hinting at for months from that original lil blurb. Hope you all enjoy a little roller coaster for our perfect parents.
Word Count: 4.3k
Timeline wise: Nico and Lexi are married. Lucie is between 1-2. Mack and Sophie are not born.
The night is coated with cozy nostalgia in a dimly lit Hoboken restaurant. Lexi sits with her former nursing coworkers, discussing the most ridiculous patient and staff stories from the hospital since the last time they all connected. Lexi is embarrassed to admit that she hasn’t been able to attend one of these meet ups since Lucie was 3 months old. Her daughter is over a year old now. But life has been hectic with her and Nico’s new addition, plus the long stretches of hockey the Devils have been playing. 
It’s all worth the sacrifice to watch Nico hoist the cup above his head. Soon, Lexi thinks. Soon he will reach his dream and then maybe the pressure can ease a bit. 
With two fingers, she twirls the stem of her now empty martini glass as Gretchen whines about the limited available to take time off with how short staffed the hospital is. 
“We need more people. They can’t even find nurses through the program Lexi came here on.”
“Really?” Lexi’s eye raise in surprise. “It was so competitive when I started there.”
“The pandemic has thinned the desire. Plus working conditions are awful.” Lexi nods. The circumstances weren’t great when she left either.
“Honestly, even if we could find part time people it would help alleviate the pressure.” Ashley mutters, throwing her curly red hair back over her shoulder. The table pauses. Then collectively, they all glance Lexi’s way, including Shawna, who had been relatively quiet.
“What? Me?”
“You were just talking about how boring and mundane your life has been. Maybe… coming back part time would help fulfill your sense of purpose.” Ashley shrugs. 
“Lex, things haven’t been the same since you left. We could really use your sunshine right now.” Gretchen adds on. 
“I am raising my daughter. That is my priority.” Lexi hears herself say the same thing her and Nico have talked about since Lexi became pregnant. But inside her body, a bubble of hope and excitement fills her chest. It starts as a tiny, translucent circle and begins to grow the more the two women encourage her to reconsider. 
“Raising Lucie is incredibly important.” Shawn agrees. “This wouldn’t detract from that, especially on a part time basis. Think of your immediate impact! You haven’t been out of the industry that long. All your certifications are still relevant. You could easily slide in a few days a week, for 3-4 hours at a time. They’re even allowing part-timers to build their own schedule from week to week. It would be the perfect fit for you!”
“And they have daycare in the hospital now! You could bring Lucie there. Socialization is so important for babies. You could have it all right there rather than scheduling a million mommy and me play dates.”
Lexi stares at her three friends in front of her, a slight smile on her face. The gears turn in her head, consider, contemplating, feeling excited at the prospect of returning to a profession she spent so many hours of her life working in. But the though of Brady looms over her head. Losing him took Lexi a long time to get through. She still wakes up at night sometimes, hearing the flat line of his monitor.
“I don’t think I could go back to pediatric. Not with Lucie.” Lexi shakes her head, sighing.
“You wouldn’t have to. They are fully staffed.” Gretchen assures. She begins to dig around in her purse. “Look, just call Aly. She would be excited to hear from you. The rest could easily get worked out.” Lexi takes Ally Schneider’s card, her former boss. Ally had been the one who held Lexi after she lost Brady. She was the one who sent Lexi home and she was the one who accepted her resignation a week later, with full grace and understanding. She would be compassionate and supportive of Lexi being a mother. Maybe this could work. 
In a quiet room, in the back of her mind, a part of her pauses at the thought of bringing this up to Nico. He is so proud of Lexi being a stay at home mom and wife. He shouts it to anyone who will listen about Lexi’s important role in their household. She does worthwhile work for them. He puts he on a pedestal because of it.
Lexi decides that she will talk to Ally first, before she approaches it with Nico. After all, her friends have a clear agenda here. Maybe it wouldn’t be as simple and flexible as they are portraying. 
So Lexi decides, before she talks to Nico, she will talk to Ally. 
- - -
Later that week, Lexi steps out of her evening shower, onto the white, memory foam mat. Nico waits outside the glass enclosure, holding up a fluffy towel for her to step into. He wraps it around her back, then lazily stuffs one corner over the other into her breasts. Lexi grips the towel closed, knowing it won’t stay up like that. That may have been her husband’s agenda.
“Thank you.” She sighs, getting on her tip toes to kiss him. He crushes her into his chest, using his tongue to trace along her lip, then dash into her mouth. Lexi melts into his sexy warmth. Nico grips the towel at her hips, pulling her flush with him. 
“You’re welcome. Luc is sleeping.”
“Finally.” Lexi sighs. 
They had a hard night with Lucie. She was fighting sleep from the moment dinner ended, rubbing her eyes, and saying no to bed time, even to daddy. They both took turns rocking her, putting her in her crib, but nothing was giving. Finally, Nico took her to the couch with a warmed up blanket from the dryer. Lexi disappeared upstairs at Nico’s request. Between now and then, their little girl finally succumbed. Nights like this are becoming more prevalent for Lucie. Lexi is not surprised as their little girl is more toddler than baby these days. Both her and Nico need to buckle up for the upcoming roller coaster of their daughter growing up. She smiles at the thought. There is no one else Lexi would rather do this with. 
How will you going back to work effect her? An inner voice whispers like a siren.
Lexi raises her green eyes to the mirror, staring at her expression. She looks worried. And she is. Because she has a job offer expiring tomorrow that she still hasn’t talked to her husband about. She never expected to walk out of her meeting with Ally three days ago with an offer of employment. She had told Ally she needed time to talk to Nico, but then the Devils lost two back to back games and Nico’s mood has been less than desirable for the conversation. 
Beside her, Nico grabs his tooth brush then dots toothpaste on the bristles. Lexi assesses his mood, seeing him relaxed although a bit tired.
“Can we talk about something?” She begins while dabbing a finger into her moisturizer. She presses three generous dots in a triangle, then begins to smooth them into her face.
“Mhm.” He says around the tooth brush oscillating against his back molars.
“I think…” Lexi starts, then swallows loudly as she stop herself. Nico continues to brush his teeth, looking at her in the mirror. She pretends to smooth out more of her moisturizer on her neck. Her heart flutters heavily against her throat. When she doesn’t continue, Nico turns fully to look at her.
“What?” He mumbles around the white foam in his mouth. Her tongue caresses the side of her mouth anxiously.
Why is this so hard to spit out?
Nico spits out his toothpaste, then wipes his mouth.
“I think I want to go back to work.” She finally sputters out. Nothing about her voice sounds confident. Nico whips his head in surprise at her. He opens his mouth and then closes it, pursing his lips. Lexi immediately sense his annoyance.
“Okay? But, we have talked about how important it is for you to stay home with Luc? You’ve always agreed to that.”
“Yeah….” She trails off, sticking her tongue into the pocket of her cheek so it juts out. “But I’ve been thinking about what I want lately, as me, and I really miss working with patients and having a place to go outside of here.” Nico’s eyes widen, and he looks away, sighing. 
“Okay.” He shakes his head. “I thought you were done with nursing after Brady.” Lexi doesn’t flinch at his name, but her heartbeat patters more heavily in her body.
“I thought so too, but it’s been calling to me the last few months. And I have an opportunity to go back.”
“I don’t see how that is going to work for our family.” Nico shrugs simply, already seeming done with the conversation.
“Well, can we talk about it? Because I talked with Ally-” 
“What does you talking with Ally have to do with our family? Because you and I have already discussed this, before we had Lucie. You said you would stay home because I’m gone so much. How…” Nico scoffs, looking above her head, trying to find his words. “So what, someone else is going to come here every day and watch her? Or we drop her off at some day care center where random people are raising her?”
“They have a daycare at the hospital. She could go-”
“No. Our daughter deserves better than that.” Nico shakes his head vigorously.
“So you just unilaterally decide this for me then?”
“So you unilaterally get to decide to go back to work?” He shoots back at her. Lexi stand up completely straight, rolling her shoulders back.
“You don’t own me.” She hisses out unexpectedly. Immediately, she wants to take the words back at the fire igniting in Nico’s eyes. His cheeks begin to turn red in frustration while he forces a hand through his long, brown locks.
“When did I say that?” Nico snaps. His tone and voice are reaching places Lexi has never heard from him. Her eyes narrow at him, then she turns to leave the bathroom. Nico is hot on her heels. “You’re putting me in a position to be the asshole, Lex. You and I agreed you would stay home with our kids.”
“Well I need something more!” She huffs at him. “Emma gets to go be-”
“That’s Emma and Timo. Not us.” She startles, feeling like a scolded child by their parent. Tears begin to fill her eyes at the shame of his disappointed scowl.
“I’m allowed to change my mind.” She whispers to him, hating the way her lip trembles.
“Yeah you are, but not when it ruins our kid’s life.”
“Nico, that is so unfair.” Her tone wobbles at her words. Nico’s jaw tightens at the two drops that escape her lids. He looks away, large eyebrows jumping as he tries to brush the effect of her emotions away.
“I don’t care, Lexi.” Nico shakes his head again. “The answer is no.” 
Lexi shakes her head in disgust before heading into their master closet to change. She cries as she pulls on her pajamas. When she returns with tears on her face, Nico doesn’t even care.
Instead, he climbs into bed and turns his back to her like a cold, distant monster.
- - -
Nico and Lexi don’t talk the whole next day. Not even about Lucie. They move around the house, avoiding each other. She goes to the store to grab groceries; he stays home with Lucie. They sit silently, watching TV during dinner. Lucie doesn’t seem to notice, snacking on her food and playing with her toys like everything is normal. 
This continues into the following morning when Nico has to head out on a five game road trip. He dotes all over their daughter as Lexi’s resentment for him breeds into an ugly, angry tyrant in her mind. She doesn’t even let him kiss her cheek when he is about to leave. She slides away from him, turning her back on him like he did to her two nights ago. His heavy sigh makes tears sting her eyes, like she is the one in the wrong here.
“Lex.”
“Nothing about this will be resolved before you leave in the next two minutes. Travel safe.” She responds without turning towards him.
He stands there for a few more moments, rubbing his hand along Lucie’s head as she munches on her oatmeal. Internally, Lexi wonders if he will try to find some middle ground regardless of her words. But then Nico leaves without apologizing, or saying I love you, or providing any comfort like he usually does. She feels herself hating him a little bit more.
She doesn’t watch the Devils games that week.
She is so angry with Nico. They do nightly FaceTime calls with Lucie, but Lexi don’t speak to her husband. Nico gets more and more frustrated with her. It begins to bleed out onto the ice against the St. Louis Blues. Nico gets two penalties in the game, including five minutes for fighting. Of course, Lexi doesn’t know this because she is watching. She knows because Emma Meier shows up at their door with a bottle of rose the next day.
“What is going on?” She asks when Lexi opens the door. Lio is on her hip, munching on an apple sauce pouch as she strolls in. Emma is in dark wash, tight designer jeans and a tan, long sleeved crop top. Her hair is straightened and perfect, not even a hint of frizz from the rainy humidity earlier in the morning. She puts the bottle of rose on the counter, then goes to put Lio next to Lucie. She’s pulling her skin tight jeans back up her waist as she looks expectantly at Lexi. “Nico wouldn’t share anything with me. Timo couldn’t get it out of him either.”
“Of course not.” Lexi snorts, then rolls her tense neck muscles out. Emma nods her head at Lexi to continue. She sighs, crossing her arms over her chest. “I want to go back to work and the dictator of this house said no.” Emma widens her eyes. 
“Nico said no?” The words seemingly taste awful to her as she says them. 
“Yep. He told me if I go back to work I’m ruining our daughter’s life.”
“No.” Emma’s mouth opens in shock.
“Yes!” Lexi exclaims, reaching for the bottle of wine. She twists the top open, then takes two really big glugs. The acidity burns at her esophagus as she puts the bottle back down. Emma picks it up, taking a more delicate sip. She slowly blinks and shakes her head.
“Wow, I’m surprised.”
“Me too.” Lexi responds, sighing heavily. Tears prick at her eyes as she recounts the conversation from last week. She purses her lips, looking back at Emma.
“I don’t understand why he gets to make this decision for me?”
“He doesn’t.” Emma says simply. “This is your life. You have the right to do the things you want to do with it. Your partner needs to be supportive of that.”
“Nico doesn’t seem to see it that way.” Lexi looks out into the living room, watching as Lucie coos at Lio, holding up a large, red lego block. Lio takes it from her, then puts it next to a blue one.
“Oh we can’t do that one. Rangers colors.” Lio shakes his head. “Grab a green one, LuLu.” 
“I’ll talk to him.” Emma insists after pouring two glasses of rose. “He is being unreasonable.”
“Actually, I’d prefer if you didn’t.” Lexi sighs, tracing a circle onto the marble counter top, then looks up at her. “I think it would just make it worse.” Emma scans her sister-in-law, then nods in understanding.
This is one they’ll have to work through on their own.
- - -
The night Nico is due home, Lexi stares at the ceiling, replaying everything that has happened in the last two weeks. Life went from the mundane, same day over and over again, to this angsty, aching storyline of push and pull between a husband and wife. She went from having no job prospects, to receiving an offer, to turning it down. She hasn’t even told Nico. She doesn’t want to. Doesn’t feel like he deserves to know with the way he has been acting.
Her phone lights up the room as the garage camera catches Nico returning home from his late night flight from Colorado. Tears curve into the water line of Lexi’s eyes. Normally, after a road trip this long, she would gallop down the stairs excitedly to throw herself into his arms. He could catch her. They would make out like teenagers against the refrigerator, then he would carry her upstairs to make love. 
Not tonight.
Her brain traces his path through the house from memory, knowing when he stops at Lucie’s room. Five minutes later, she hears him rustling with his bag outside and closes her eyes, pretending to be asleep so she can avoid an interaction with him. Her lip trembles as she shakily swallows to wet her dry throat.
Nico comes into the bedroom almost completely silent. He drops his things in the closet and presumably changes. Lexi’s chest aches when he comes to the bed and grabs his pillow afterwards. His footsteps are so silent, when his voice speaks from next to her, her heart jumped into her throat. 
“Lex?” She startles at his touch. Nico grimaces. “I’m sorry… When I went in to kiss Luc, she was hot. She has a fever.” Lexi moves to get up. Lucie was fine when she checked her a few hours ago. “No, please. I’d like to take care of her myself.” 
“You can bring her in here.”
“No, you deserve to sleep.” He reaches out tentatively for her cheek, cupping it briefly. “Goodnight. I love you.” It’s the first time he’s said it to her directly in a week. He moves to pull away and she grips his wrist.
“I love you too.” She earnestly looks into his deep, brown eyes. “But I am also so mad at you.”
"I know. You have every right to be.” He maintains direct eye contact when he says it. Lexi’s eyebrows furrow. “We will talk tomorrow.” He leans down tentatively and Lexi goes the other 50% until their lips meet. The kiss is sad and achey. Their lips crave the taste of the other, but can’t go all in like they want to. Lexi pulls away first, stroking her nose along Nico’s. She can feel his lashes against her forehead. Then he pulls away to go lay on the floor of their daughter’s room.
The next morning, Lexi is up first. She pokes her head into the guest room, seeing Nico and Lucie have moved there together. Lucie’s bare feet are pressed into Nico’s chest, cheeks pink, hair wild like it had been sweaty and dried sometime during the night. Lexi creeps in, pressing a hand to her toddler’s forehead. No fever. With that comfort, she tiptoes from the room again. 
Downstairs, she makes herself a berry smoothie and settles into the couch with a book. She stays there for a bit, then begins to feel antsy waiting for her loves to wake up. She heads back upstairs, unpacking Nico’s bag completely and getting started on his laundry. She bring his three suits to the downstairs closet for dry cleaning to pick up tomorrow.
It’s almost lunch time when a sleepy Nico and Lucie come downstairs together. Lucie smiles at her mama around a pacifier in her mouth. Lexi arches a slender eyebrow at Nico. Lucie hasn’t had pacifiers for 6 months.
“I lost the battle.” He groggily mumbles. His long hair is flopping every which way. He hands their daughter over to Lexi, then kisses her head. “ ‘m gonna take a shower.”
Nico disappears back upstairs while Lexi gives Lucie some of her leftover smoothie. She sucks it up happily, babbling for some banana when she is done. Lexi is cutting that up when Nico returns downstairs. His hair is slicked back from his shower. He is dressed in new lounge sweats while texting on his phone.
“Do you want a smoothie?” Lexi asks him.
“No, I’m going to make myself some eggs. Do you want any?”
“No, I already ate.”
“Okay.” He wraps an arm around her waist from behind. Lexi resists the urge to tense, trying to purposefully relax her upper body. Nico rests his chin on one of her shoulders, then turns his nose into her neck.
“I was completely out of line last week.” He murmurs while staying there. Lexi scoops up the banana pieces and puts them in a small bowl for Lucie, then slides it across the counter to where she is in her highchair. Lexi puts the knife down and turns so her and Nico are facing each other. He keeps her enclosed in his arms with a palm resting on the counter, on either side her.
“Do you only love me because I’m the mother of your child?” Lexi ponders.
“No, Lex. I love you. The person. So much.” He finishes with a whisper. His eyes trace her face earnestly. Lexi nods. 
“I turned them down.” She admits.
“I’m sorry.”
“And I’m sorry if I have a hard time believing that.” Lexi says pointedly. 
“Fair.” Nico nods then swallows hard. “But I am.” 
“Can I get an explanation?” Lexi asks. She reaches her hands out to rest on his hips, gripping the waistband of his joggers as an anchor.
“I’m having a hard time with how much I’m missing of Lucie growing up. And I put that fear into you last week. Like… I’ve been able to fall back on the idea that you’re here. And if you go back to work, what will I have to ease my failures as a father?” He touches his chest delicately. Lexi lowers her gaze to his beaded bracelets. She moves one of her hands up to hold his wrist. “If this is what you need to do… to be happy… to feel what I get to feel when I step onto the ice every day, then I am in full support of you.”
She stares at his chest, letting his words sink in. As he always is, Nico is patient. When her eyes meet his again, they stare at each other wordlessly for a moment. She is wary. He can sense it.
“I know I hurt you and I’m so sorry.” He whispers. She nods her head in recognition of his apology.
“Nico, you are an amazing dad. It makes me really sad you feel like you’re failing our daughter. That couldn’t be farther from the truth.” She shakes her head, blowing out a sigh. “And I wish you would have shared that with me before it turned into this.”
“I’m embarrassed.” He shrugs. “I’ve been good at everything my whole life. Working so hard to overcome any obstacles.. but there are things I can’t give to Lucie and it kills me, babe.” The way he says babe wrecks her. Lexi moves his hand to the side so she can slide against his chest. Her fingers clutch at his muscular back and dig into his scalp as she cradles their heads together.
“She is so lucky to have you, Neeks.” Lexi turns to kiss his stubbled cheek. He buries his nose deeper into her collar bone as she stroke along his spine. “I am too.” His large arms wrap around her waist, enclosing it completely.
“Tell me again?”
“Hmm?”
“Tell me you are thinking about going back to work.”
“I’m… thinking about going back to work?”
“Okay. Whatever you want to do is what works for our family. We will figure it out.” Nico murmurs. “That’s what I should have said to you. I’m sorry I didn’t.” Lexi smiles against his cheek. Nico turns, capturing her lips. 
“I accept your apology.” She murmurs. “But I really did already turn Ally down.”
“I’ll call Ally. Tell her your husband was a fucking idiot last week, but he’s done with that.” Lexi chuckles, top teeth dragging over her bottom lip. 
“I would like to try it. See if we can find a balance?” 
“Yes, 100% yes, baby.” 
Across the counter, Lucie squeals excitedly then throws her banana bowl onto the floor. 
“Oh! LuLu is in too!” Nico cheers. “Yay mommy!!!” He claps around her back. Lexi chuckles, a whole body rumbling one as her and Nico separate. Nico grabs Lexi’s phone, sliding it across the counter. “Call Ally.” 
Ally extends another offer to Lexi immediately on the phone. 
Within an hour, Lexi has signed an offer letter and has orientation scheduled for the following Monday. Nico brings her to her first day of work, packs her lunch, and spends the whole time Lexi is working with Lucie in the day care, spending time with the kids, signing autographs for staff members and patients alike. By the end of the Lexi’s four hour shift, he is exhausted.
“No wonder you need a break.” He mumbles, exhaustedly running a hand over his hand. “And she isn’t even tired.” He points out about a babbling Lucie in her carseat. 
“Welcome to my life.” Lexi smirks, then clicks her seatbelt in place. Nico wraps her hand in his, bringing it up to kiss along her knuckles. “So what’s for dinner stay at home dad?” Nico balks at her.
“McDonalds.” He chuckles, turning out of the parking lot.
With ease, the Hischiers settled into this adjusted life, until two pink lines show up a few months later on a test in their master bathroom.
Read more Nico and Lexi here.
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brightlight-dazzlingeyes · 1 year ago
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between the lines | chapter 08 (finale)
rúben dias x original female character [+18]
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synopsis: isabella is a sports journalist covering the premier league. she has sworn to never get involved with a football player. that is, until she meets a handsome portuguese defender. warnings: incorrect journalism references; timeline of events are not faithful to real life; i have never been to england; mutual pining; romantic comedy;  minors dni.
previous chapter | masterlist
Chapter 08 — Shooting and Finishing
Days went by smoothly. I tried to spend as much time as possible minding other people's business and concentrating on other people's drama. Hours daily doom scrolling social media. It worked as expected and I managed to stay distracted.
Until I got a promotion at work. Yesterday.
It was the most ordinary day possible at the office, the monotonous hum of the air conditioning filling the room as I sat at my desk, the low voices of my coworkers talking nonsense to each other, somebody somewhere in the office opening a snack thinking no one would notice… The usual. 
And then my phone buzzed. I glanced down at the screen to see a text from my boss, Mr. Evans.
‘Can you meet me in the media room in five minutes?’
My heart pounded as I read the message. I always hated meetings with the boss, they were never ever good news. I headed towards the media room, my footsteps echoing in the otherwise silent corridor, my legs shaking.
When I entered, Mr. Evans was already sitting down, his expression a mix of anticipation and confidence. He gestured for me to take a seat, and I nervously obliged, my palms beginning to sweat.
"Isabella," he began, his voice steady, "I've been observing your dedication and hard work over the past months."
I nodded, my anxiety building with each passing second.
"I believe you're ready for a new challenge," he continued. "I want to offer you a promotion, a better role, with increased responsibilities."
My mind whirled, a thousand thoughts colliding. The promotion was everything I had hoped for, but it was also the very thing I had been avoiding. It meant stepping out of my comfort zone and facing the unknown.
I agreed anyway, and didn't even have to think twice. I just nodded and thanked him. I could feel my legs trembling beneath the table, as if they were on the verge of betraying me. My voice quivered as I responded, "I... I appreciate the offer, Mr. Evans."
He gave me an encouraging nod, his eyes unwavering. He could tell how nervous and like a kind and caring mentor Mr. Evans smiled, a reassuring gesture. "Isabella, fear is a natural part of growth. It means you're stepping into uncharted territory, and that's where true progress lies."
I couldn’t escape reality after that. No amount of idiotic insta posts could keep my thoughts away from the inevitable: I want Rúben. I want to talk to him everyday. I want him in my life. I want to be a part of his life.
So, even scared, even with my legs shaking and heart pounding and all of that. I called him.
‘I have an answer for you’, I wanted to say. Instead, I said:
“I just got a promotion!”
“Isa, congratulations! That 's amazing.” I could hear his smile through the phone, he did not question my phone call and sounded genuinely happy for him. The desire to hug him flooded me.
“Well, you see… I actually got scared when I first heard about it. It seems like a lot of responsibility.” I was twirling my hair fighting the urge to bite my nails.
“What? You think so?” He seemed so worried I almost laughed, but I had a point to make and he needed to know.
“I have commitment issues.” I say loud and clear.
He takes a moment to answer, unsure.
“Are you still talking about the job?”
I shake my head, uselessly, since he can't see me.
“I lost both of my parents when I was too young to know how to deal with it and I never had a serious relationship before.” 
I can hear him sighing over the phone and I use the moment to take a deep breath and proceed. I decide to tell him all at once, before I have the chance to lose courage again.
“I realized something about myself this past week.” I continue. “I tend to focus too much on what’s right in front of me, instead of considering the whole picture. I worry too much about the small emergencies life throws at me and forget about what’s really important.”
“Am I a small emergency?” He interfered, confused.
“No, you’re the important part. You’re the house.”
I make gestures as if he could see me, trying to make him understand.
“The house?” Rúben laughs.
“Yeah… Shit, I kind of ruined the speech, there was a part about a house and leaks and…”
“Isa, are you home?” “Yes–” “Give me fifteen minutes.”
Twenty minutes later and he was towering over my front door wearing a hoodie and rosy cheeks, he looked like he came running to see me. I felt in the moment that I was allowed to hold him as hard as I’ve missed him, so I did.
Rúben held me back and I felt a soft kiss on my neck. He then held my face, making me look him in the eye.
“Is this your answer?” He searched for any sign of doubt in me, but there wasn't any.
“Yes. Yes, I’m not running away again, I promis–” and he kissed me. Before I could finish my sentence he closed the apartment door and still holding me tight, he guided me inside.
“I missed this so much.” His voice was rough, his lips still touching mine as he spoke, going in for another kiss. Rúben was hungry and I shared the same feeling. “I missed you.” He spoke, this time properly looking at me.
“I missed you too.” I told him with a smile, feeling so happy and grateful for his reaction.
He smiled even brighter at my words, looking suddenly relieved. His hands were firm in my waist then, pulling me as close as possible to him.
“Now come here, we have to make up for the lost time.”
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oitommothetease · 3 years ago
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Invisible String (6/?)
Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)
Description: James Buchanan Barnes, the owner of the most expensive-looking club in town and your new apartment. He was a dick and you hated him. What could possibly go wrong when you, the new girl in town, start bartending at his club to pursue your dreams?
Word Count: 2.1k words
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Bucky couldn't recall the last time he had a genuine conversation with someone who wasn't his best mates, Sam and Steve. He enjoyed your company and as much as he hated to let his guard down, he wanted to do just that with you. You were everything that Bucky thought he would find repulsive, but he couldn’t help but be attracted towards you. And for the first time he wanted more, he didn't want a one-night stand or a fling with you, he wanted to know you. He admired your courage and bravery, but mostly he admired you. You, with all your stupid yet funny jokes and spontaneity; he liked you more than he would like to admit.
But there was this thing that you were his employee and one meal doesn't count as a date. It was just a meal. But yet, Bucky wanted it to be more. He had never been so intrigued by another person, but it was also clear that you didn't reciprocate his interest. And Bucky would have all of his 206 bones crushed out rather than giving his heart to someone only for it to be not requited. 
So, when you walked into the club the next day, pretending as if nothing had changed, Bucky knew where your relationship lay with him, and he was content with it. Okay, he wasn't content with it, but he knew he couldn't force something that wasn't there. He would choose to be in your life as your boss, acquaintance, or maybe even a friend if he's lucky enough than to not be in your life at all. 
***
When you got settled behind the counter, your mood wasn't that great. It could be because you weren't drunk this time, or maybe because you enjoyed your meal with your boss a little too much for your liking. You wouldn't call it a date, but it sure as hell was a lot better than all the dates or meals you've had with people.
Your good mood was definitely not because of the fact that your mother called only to inform you that this family friend's son is not going to wait around long, and you should at least find a stable job if you can't find a suitable boyfriend. Then she started boasting about your sister and her amazing profession and how she and her husband save lives every day. And you might have had enough of her bullshit and lied that you indeed have a stable job and relationship. None of which is true. 
Bartending only pays the bills, and you haven't had a relationship in years and none of them were serious. You always ran away from any sort of commitment because you knew you would eventually have to introduce your partner to your family and nobody deserves to see that circus, and you told yourself that you're doing a favor to those previous partners by leaving them or as your friends like to call ghosting them. In your defense, dealing with you and your family is more horrific than any scary movie. 
Well, until now because tomorrow your sister and her family are coming to meet your partner and take you back to your parents' place for the weekend. The only problem is that you lied to them about your job and your partner. The worst part is that both of them are pretty non-existent.
"Hey, How are you feeling? " Peter asked you, noticing how you still weren't paying attention to the customer in front of you. 
“Great, not drunk, if that's what you're wondering.” 
“I'm fine," you retorted, glancing at the concerned look Peter was giving you. You quickly took the customer's order and proceeded to make the drink. 
"The last time you said you were fine, you threatened to kill a dude," Pietro interjected, enjoying the faux disbelief that landed on your face. You looked over to Wanda for help, but she just chuckled at her brother's antics.
The rest of the night at work went by as it usually did. Pietro making a sarcastic remark here and there, Wanda countering her brother with a snarky response, you were laughing your ass off watching the duo and Peter awkwardly tried to suppress his amusement. In a weird custom, these three coworkers were the only thing that felt normal. 
By the time you were done, it was mostly you left like always, with the addition of security guards that James added since Rumlow. You wanted to talk to him, especially after the wonderful not date you had, but the situation with him was not under your control anymore and it released from your grasp which scared the shit out of you. If James and you had met under different circumstances, then you would have tried to date him, but with him being your boss and the whole Rumlow thing made everything so complicated, and you didn't have time for any sort of relationship complication in your life. At least that's what you kept telling yourself.
When you were done with your shift and were about to leave, a very familiar voice called for you. You've been trying to ignore him all day and just when you thought you've succeeded, he catches up to you. 
The thing that scared you with James was that you felt safe, too safe with him. You were scared that you were going to become dependent on him for your security, and you hated that. You always despised women who weren't anything except their husband's wife, as if their whole identity was being a man's property. Furthermore, you knew the only thing to be blamed here was patriarchy and men, but you decided that you weren't going to be someone's property, you were going to be your own person. 
And you rebelled a lot to reach here, dyed your hair blue just because your mom told you not to, pursued your dream just because your dad told you to follow a secure nine to four job, left ex-partners because they told you what to and what not to wear. And some part of you knew that James wasn't like that. He wouldn't exploit you and your weaknesses. 
But what you didn't realize was that these were merely excuses that your brain mustered up because you were too scared to be dumped. A long time ago, you decided that it is better to leave than be left. And James — well, James made you feel things that you didn't want to chase. You feared commitment and abandonment too much to go after a guy. 
Your thoughts were brought to a halt when he held your wrist gently and called your name again. Reluctantly, you turned around, pretending to be surprised as if you didn't see him. 
He obviously caught on to you. "Why are you ignoring me?" 
"What?" You scoffed in feign disbelief, taking your hand away from his grasp and setting it on his shoulder. "Why would I ignore you, bud?"
Bud? What the fuck? , both of you thought at the same time.
Carefully, he eyed your hand and then you, "Okay, come on, I'll drop you home."
"No, James, it's fine, I can go on my own." 
"Yes, yes, you are an independent, strong woman but come on," He teased, but you didn't seem to pick up the glint of mischief in his eyes. 
You heard that as a taunt, a taunt your father has told you an ample number of times, that you indeed can never be anything on your own if you don't have a man beside you. While you were lost in your thoughts, James was moving towards his car, assuming that you were following him.
 "But I am," you argued. 
Your voice sounded distant to him, he turned around and walked towards you. "You are what?" 
"I am strong and independent."
"Yes, you are," he agreed as a matter of factly because it was the truth. He had never met someone so strong who would leave behind their whole life to pursue their dreams. He, being the mob boss, and filthy rich couldn't do the same, and he may not tell you this, but he admired you so much. 
Once you got the assurance you needed, you started walking towards his car. "Are you coming or not?" and he followed you. 
Of course, you knew you were strong, but your life had not been going as smoothly as you anticipated. You're stuck in writer's block, your family interference and lack of trust in you hurts like a bitch. You were somewhat crushing on your boss, and you blurted random embarrassing stuff in front of him without thinking. You know, normal crush things. 
When you reached the apartment, he insisted on dropping you to your floor. The car ride was spent in peaceful silence, but the time spent in the elevator was everything but that. No, the fifteen seconds were spent in James fidgeting beside you because he wanted to say something but didn't know how to. 
After you unlocked your door, he finally spoke up. "Um, I was just wondering whether, you know, - I had fun last night and I don't have smooth conversations with people - um, I don't know, I'd like to go out with you again," he didn't finish, but your eyebrows shot up to your forehead and he quickly backpedaled. " Not as a date, if that's what you want. It could be a meal shared between you and your boss. Not that I'm implying that you are obligated to go with me just because I'm your boss. I'm asking this as a stranger, well, not as a stranger but as a friend, I think."
"James,” you spoke softly, and he could feel the denial coming his way.” I had fun too, but you're my boss. This is highly unprofessional."
He signed in defeat and looked at you one last time. There was so much he wanted to say, he wanted to tell you that he enjoyed your company more than he should. He wanted to tell you that he liked you. He wanted to tell you that he wanted to see where this thing would lead with you, but he knew better than that. At the end of the day, you were his employee and if you were to get involved with him in any form, it would only end in your tarnished reputation. So, he nodded, not trusting himself enough to speak much after the clear rejection. "I understand."
"Y/N! “
Both of you turned towards the source of the voice and frowned. He frowned because he was confused, whereas you, oh, you weren't confused, you were furious at the person standing there and at yourself for forgetting about their arrival.
 "Hi, Carol. I thought you were coming tomorrow," you stated, faking a smile, and everyone in the area could see your distressed attempt at looking excited.
 Well, everyone except your sister because she shrieked with happiness and ran towards you to throw her arms around you. Her husband followed behind and gave you and James an awkward smile.
 "I just couldn't wait to meet my baby sister and we'll take you guys back for the weekend."
You guys, James and you thought at the same time. James looked at the side of your face for an explanation, and you kept looking forward at your sister, avoiding his gaze.
Fuck, you forgot about that. How can you forget about that? You mentally cursed yourself and didn't say anything because you didn't know what to do. 
Your sister picked your silence as her cue to talk and pointed her index finger at James, who was standing beside you now. "Is this him?"
Your sister looked at you, expecting an answer, your brother-in-law looked at you with something called, please hurry up, I just want to go back to the hotel. James looked at you with bewilderment. 
You sighed and took your boss's hand in yours, who also happens to be the most dangerous person in the town. He complied, holding on to you tightly, running his thumb on the back of your hand in a soothing manner. It felt like the most obvious thing as if your hand was made to be held by him. The thought sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, but you were too stubborn to accept it.
"Yes," you finalized. "This is James, my boyfriend."
TAGS: @bananapipedreams @akkinda10 @rivers-rambles21 @emmabarnes @goodcleanfunsis @valsworldofcreativity @boofy1998 @marvel-3407​ @priii​
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blacksunscorpio · 4 years ago
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Hi, hope you’re well! I was wondering about the hidden enemies aspect of the twelfth house. Does hidden mean the types of people (people with influence of the sign in your 12h) you are unaware are antagonizing you or is it that those characteristics in someone throw you off but you can’t really put your finger on why? Can these people believe that they are helping you but really they’re holding you back in some way? Can the hidden aspect go both ways? Why does 12h synestry have this effect? I have cancer on the 12h cusp and I’ve never really been able to develop any meaningful relationships with any (cancers) that I’ve met though I’ve been trying to emulate characteristics of this sign (12h as repressed tendencies). Note: I unfortunately have no water placements to help me out what so ever lol. Thanks for your help, your blog is absolute gold ✨✨✨
12th House and Hidden Enemies
Since the 12th house is ruled by Neptune, this is the place in our chart where things can be difficult to ascertain. Things are murky and veiled here. Not only can you be unaware of where people are causing trouble for you but there can also be a weird “vibe” that something is not right with something or someone but one may not be readily able to make it out. In the natal chart, synastry, or composite this can display itself as mentioned above. Things can get triggered here in ways you are not altogether comfortable with. And of course, because like the 8th house, things can be deeply buried or repressed. For more insight lets look further:
Aries/Mars in the 12th
Hidden or unconscious foes can often attack a native’s go sense of self. This is because Aries/Mars rules the 1st house of self. “I AM”. Often a native with this placement may wind up feeling victimized without being able to put their finger on the source if said feeling. An astrologer/native will want to observe one’s Mars placement and the contacts it is making to other planets in the natal horoscope or in synastry/composite [Mid-point or Davison]. Ex: Mars in the 1st can indicate conflict to the self. Mars in the 7th can indicate complexity with enemies being close relationships. One can have issues with authority figures or those in leadership. Hidden enemies can be competitors or they may feel anyone who triggers these planets is a rival they need to “beat”. People who trigger “lust” or “Sexual urges” in a native may be perceived as a nemesis. In addition, rivals/enemies might display aggression, antagonism, self-serving habits, and impulsivity. Watch out for those who display toxicity in the form of domination or those who overall try to silence or step on your drive. These people can be ruthless, cruel, “bullies” or simply those who charge in a shoot first/ask questions later. 
Taurus/Venus in the 12th 
Enemies are involved with 2nd house realm of “possessions”. Things we get territorial over. This includes finances and things we appreciate. Enemies may accuse the native of stealing/taking something precious from them. Things they value. Be on guard for those who encourage over-indulgence, general excess, and materialism. Someone who once wore the mask of a friend may turn foe due to being envious of the things a native owns. The things a native has or their wealth. Venusian placements can indicate the type of relationship a native has with their enemy. Ex: Venus in the 4th may indicate secretly toxic family members. Venus in the 11th= friends or those in their general social network. Venus in the 5th, casual lovers, etc. Fixed tendencies or feelings can exist in the underlying relationship between secret enemies. Be on the lookout for undoing in the physical/material realm. This includes thievery, hoarding, over-spending, or living beyond practical means.  Undoing can come from going after comfort and security in toxic or co-dependent ways. Lovers or those who provide wealth and security may become enemies by withholding it from a native or trying to gain control over it behind the native’s back.
Gemini/Mercury in the 12th 
Secret enemies can come in many forms. Generally, this will be in the realm of communication, ideals, or intellect. The interactions may be formidable and stem from communicative interactions or opposing views. A  secret enemy will often challenge the native’s wits or will simply strive to appear more intelligent than them. Superficiality, fakeness, disingenuousness, and two-faced behavior are common threads. Undoing can display itself as blockages to learning, gaining insights, and general discouragement of focus that can make the native grow. An enemy will, in layman’s terms, try to make you look stupid. Insult your mind. Make you lose focus. Mercury aspects and placements can reveal more. Ex: Mercury in the 11th can indicate surface level bonds with peers and communication that is not honest. Friends may lie. Mercury in the 9th possibly indicating enemies who may try to manipulate beliefs or manipulation in regard to teaching and religion. Secret enemies will reveal themselves in their communication methods with the natives. Through dialogue. Enemies here can use sarcasm, cowardly subs, insults veiled through “back-handed compliments”, passive aggression, insult you subliminally so you don’t realize you were attacked or insulted until after-the-fact. Slander, libel, or general shit talking. Think of Regina George:  “OMG I love your skirt!” only to turn around and say “That is the fugliest effing skirt I’ve ever seen”.  with the 3rd house involved, siblings and extended family could be culprits or part of the problem.  A toxic person may try to attack your intellectual confidence. Unethical approaches involved with words and general attacks of the mind. These people may intentionally cause confusion or gaslighting. Watch out for people you perceive to be liars. Therein lies the foe.
Cancer/Moon in the 12th
Veiled Nemesis’ are often difficult to feel. Things will be subtle. Their tactics or vibes will often display themselves in the form of manipulation, passive aggression, or a general “toying with the feelings”. Since the moon/Cancer often represents the “mother”, toxicity from a parent or child may be an issue or the culprit. A native will often feel their sense of security or safety being “attacked”. Enemies will attach their healing methods and/or emotional confidence. The placement of the Moon can indicate where emotional damage typically goes on. Ex: Moon in the 10th can indicate attacks to the public person or prestige or even the career. Coddling, not being able to let go, clinginess and overprotection are general themes. Perhaps a parent or guardian, lover, or close friend is incessantly over-protective that it causes a stunt to general emotional and mental growth. Again, it may be hard to see since it is the moon that can be a mysterious place as is the 12th house. The channel that one discovers said enemy will typically be through intuition and even dreams. Remember, through said over-protection and general fear of letting go can lead to the native’s undoing. We often see the toxic side of femininity with this placement. Mom, Grandma, sister, great grandmother, etc can be involved in the problem here. Child-abuse, using the child as a pawn during custody battles, emotional manipulation in order to get what the enemy wants can be what causes the nemesis theme. A hidden enemy may cloak themselves as “just wanting the best for you” or “I do it because I love you and care.” The enemy may not be able to let go.
Leo/Sun in the 12th
Foes will strive to exert their and dominance over a native. This will display itself as the spirit of competitiveness, bullying, domination, bossiness, arrogance, etc. Think leonine traits at their worst. Leo in the 12th will do this behind the scenes with power plays. How they can lord things over a native. The father could be a culprit in this or the father could be part of the issue. Daddy issue [regardless of sex]. Internalized misogyny. The Sun’s placement can reveal more. Sun in the 3rd will try to influence the mind or dominate the intellect. Sun in the 6th indicates a coworker or boss or one may feel/be overshadowed at work. The battle will always be involved with the core ego or one’s sense of self. A hidden enemy will try to greatly influence this person in this realm. A hidden nemesis will try to act like the dominant parental figure or act as if they are giving good sage-like guidance or person. They will try to act like the authority figure. This person will drain the native’s energy stores. The definition of an energy vampire. Why? because even as humans, we get our energy from the Sun. We are heliocentric. One can often feel drained energetically after dealing with such an individual. This will reveal to you “who” the enemy is. In addition, we can see more themes of toxic masculinity here just like Mars in the 12th. Moreover, the enemy may not be another person but the own native’s hubris. They need to take care not to allow their ego to run roughshod over them. Pride comes before the fall.
Virgo/Mercury in the 12th 
Secret enemies with this placement will often reveal themselves by criticism. More specifically, criticism about things a native is very insecure about. The critiquing will be neither healthy nor remotely helpful. It will scar instead fo heal. Hidden foes will wear the mask of the “caretaker” or “healer”.  Their behavior will simply be a means to an end. The native will often find themselves internalizing the criticism which is exactly what their enemy wants. The words the foe spouts will be sort of like Simon Cowell’s analytical stance. Harsh but not in a way that builds. One may often find the enemy saying things like “that’s just my opinion.” they will veil it under the mask of “honesty” when in reality it is just shit-talking for shit-talking’s sake. These people don’t really care, they just like to take people down a peg. Be on the lookout for those who display “Munchhausen by proxy syndrome” towards you. The caregiver who secretly injures by tries to gaslight and cover it up under the guise of “love”.
Libra/Venus in the 12th 
Like Taurus in the 12th, similar issues will display themselves through relationships. The ones closest to us. Your hidden foes may hide under the mask of “friend”. They are nearer than you are probably comfortable with. Look for those who are near and dear. Now, will all your teammates, family ties or friends be enemies? No. But you’ll want to be careful who you let into your circle with said placement. Best friends turn to enemies. The ones who hate on you when something good happens. The friends who link with you through trauma bonds but when you successfully break that tie, they are angry at every “win” you have. These people will be the ones who don’t clap when you win. The people who say they are “there for you” but stab you in the back.  They’ll secretly compete with you. Those who thrive and gloat when you are down and out. Enemies in this house will threaten your harmony and balance somehow. They will not respond well to diplomacy or will mask their ill-intent through the mask of “sweetness” and “Friendliness”. You’ll feel a shallow vibe from them. They’ll say one thing but their energy screams something else. Friends who are fair weather. Those who take advantage of a native’s attachment, or infatuation. A lover who ghosts or tries to make you co-dependent on them. An enemy or toxic person may actually lust or secretly desire you but manipulate you into thinking you are the one obsessed with them. There will be subtle mind games. They will enjoy toying with you. Delayed gratification or just manipulation. Think 5 of swords and 3 of cups paired.
Scorpio/Pluto in the 12th 
Paranoia resides here. Hidden foes will be quite underhanded and manipulative. Secrecy is seriously involved. People with this placement live by the mantra “expect anything from anyone, the devil was once an angel”. Betrayal, possessiveness, control and power themes, vengeance, and guilt are involved with enemies. Anyone who triggers these themes recurringly may be individuals to keep your distance from. People who trigger self-destructive tendencies are enemies to look out for. Moreover, a native can feel like they are their own worst enemy. Remember, a Scorpion is prone to stinging themselves. Enemies here are prone to trying to turn the native against themselves. This toxic behavior will be intentional. Toxicity will display itself through trauma bonds, possessiveness, gaslighting, manipulation, envy, or just general attempts at control and domination. Remember, the general theme here is “power and transformation.” Enemies are often those who boast a considerable amount of power [over the native or those who are powerful in general]. The danger in this placement? A native may feel a strong magnetic pull or obsessive fascination towards the enemy. This can appear in the natal, synastry, or composite chart. Watch out for the lover who seems to have a hold on you but you don’t know how or can’t seem to break it. They know what they're doing *sucks teeth*. Secret enemies desire to manipulate you or play the ventriloquist. Their goal is to see you be your own downfall. They’ll wade in the shadows, pouring gasoline on the fire of the flames of your self-destruction. Watch out for those who smirk while you’re going through a hard time. Or those who encourage you to do things you inwardly know aren’t good for you. Be on the look out for power-hungry individuals. Those who NEED to be worshipped. The types to lead “cult-like” followings and draw you in. This can often be displayed through seduction.
Sagittarius/Jupiter in the 12th
Hidden enemies/foes will be very fanatical and zealous. Enemies here lie in the realm of philosophies, teaching, higher learning, or religious beliefs. These enemies will be toxic gamblers. People who enable you or encourage self-indulgence, promiscuity, and general recklessness. They won’t ever warn you or ask you to heed caution. Ever. They’ll mislead you, tell you half-truths, or cherry-pick facts and figures to suit their own needs. They’ll make you think you’re getting the full picture but you won’t be. They’ll teach harmful beliefs, things that destroy faith in what is tangible or real. Make shit up to suit their own propaganda. It’s very similar to Neptune since both Jupiter and Neptune rule the spiritual. What they teach you may make you feel bogged down. They’ll use beliefs and doctrine to control. Their passion and zeal may make you feel as if what they are spouting is the end-all-be-all but it tends to be the opposite. Gloating and one-upmanship are themes as well. These hidden enemies will reveal themselves by questioning your beliefs or forcing you to believe theirs or causing dramatic scenes when you don’t conform or question theirs.  The nemesis might be a professor, guru, preacher, priest/priestess, or political leader. They’ll be exaggerators, quite preachy, and cloak their arrogance under another mask. Often it will be “confidence” but ultimately it’s bravado or self-absorption. They’ll be charismatic, yes, but they’ll attack your aspirations, idealism, talents, and dreams or simply try to tell you they’re not there or tell you you don’t really know yourself- they do. They’ll tell you they “know you better than you know yourself”.  Again the theme is “beliefs”. They will dissuade you from forming any thought process that doesn’t align with their own. They won’t encourage you to learn for yourself, cross reference, cite your own sources, or guide you to thinking for yourself. It will always have to be in the confines of what THEY believe for it to be seen as “appropriate”.
Capricorn/Saturn in the 12th
Hidden enemies or foes will often be a threat to growth. They’ll be restrictive. Threaten a native’s ambitions, reputation, prestige, groundedness/security. They may present themselves or even be authority figures. Power games are seen here. Guilt, repression, feelings of guilt, and/or general suppression of self-expression and drive. These individuals will be calculated. Very chess-like. Wealth or the legacy of a native and their possessions will be threatened or at risk when one has this placement. The enemy will display an austere persona. Could even be the father, grandfather, great grandfather, etc. Masculinity is involved here. Disappointment and criticism are extreme themes they’ll subject you to. This is how you’ll figure out who they are. They’ll be cold, want control, or be controlling. EXTREMELY negative. They’ll also be greedy or attempt to hold a native back from success, prosperity, or independence. Maturity will be inhibited. Opportunities thwarted. But they’ll mask it all under “wanting the best for you.”  The enemy could even be an individual's lack of exploration or their own self-repression. They could cause themselves to be too hard on themselves which could lead them into self-imposed depression. They must learn to be free. LIVE.
Aquarius/Uranus in the 12th
Hidden foes and/or enemies can be erratic. They’ll operate in a very unpredictable manner.  Their behavior will be exciting so it may be hard to recognize it at first. They may appear out of the blue. The nemesis might attack a native’s individuality and freedom. They may cause chaos and disruptions in your life. The enemy may not respect your individuality or differences and/or freedom. They’ll disapprove of the unique way of life your lead. [Look at Saturn as well as Uranus]. Your freedom will always be a threat to theirs and vice versa. Look out for those who seem “out there” and who try to coax you into avant-garde ways of doing things. It may not always be in your best interest. You could wind up with sudden breaks, accidents, unpredictable events because of them. They may cause disruptions to your security or cause so much confusion they can cause severe damage to your psyche [Uranus can also rule intelligence and mental dealings]. They’ll be recognizable as the “rebels”. They may not always be the types to intentionally wish you harm but may lead you to it. They’ll be, eccentrics, or anarchists and can lead you astray. Their agenda is to be agents of chaos. Think of the Joker from the Dark Knight. “Do I really look like a guy with a plan?” It will be hard to see. You may even be enthralled. Again this is the 12th house. Lots of instability here. The enemy could even be the individual's need for rebellion which can cause them to get themselves into trouble because they don’t see the threat or danger involved or they simply don’t care.
Pisces/Neptune in the 12th
Hidden foes may have may connections to karma. The feelings will be extremely felt through intuition and psychic insights. You’ll feel them but not really know where they’re coming from. Often there will be a “Nessus/Dejanira” theme going on. The victim and abuser. Often, the native will be the abused.  Strong Manipulation. The enemy will make you drink the “Kool-aid”. Their abuse often stems from their own hurt and trauma. They’ll claim they want to heal you or help you. Their “aid” will be cloaked under sympathy and love. Often it is an illusion. In reality, they’re wanting something. Being used can often be a theme. Themes of addiction or drug abuse can live here, too. Think of Bobby and Whitney or even Syd and Nancy. Enabling addictions are very prevalent. Now the enemy may not even be a person but addictions themselves can be the undoing or downfall. One with this placement must be careful in indulging in mind-altering substances. Alcoholism can be an issue as well. If it is an actual individual, the foe can play the martyr or cause you to sacrifice something precious to you. They can play off your insecurities or weakness and keep you emotionally dependent. They can toxic to your spirituality or try to influence your spirituality as well.
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igotbulletproof-insomnia · 3 years ago
Text
Adopting Bangtan 09
01 previous
AN UNLIKELY WEDDING
You bit your lip as you stared at your phone. You had an email from Jimin and Taehyung’s mother. Song Jieun was your old coworker who you had adored, but who also tricked you into taking care of her children so that she could get married without worry. Your respect and opinion of her had gone down significantly with that move, but you… didn’t exactly understand, but you did appreciate that she gave her children to someone who could properly take care of them instead of leaving them to fend for themselves which had seemed to be her original plan.
What’s wrong?” Seokjin looked up from the video game he was playing, ignoring the cut scene he had watched a dozen times before now to focus on you. You could hear the younger boys playing in their bedroom, the sounds of legos clattering and mouth-made explosions louder than what their closed bedroom door could block off. They were sounds that had become familiar in the past six months, sounds that used to be made by one child and were nowhere near this boisterous.
“Nothing,” you shrugged while you scrolled through the email a second time and tried to sort out your feelings. Seokjin’s stare burned into your cheek and rolled your eyes. “I mean it, nothing is wrong. Just…” You could feel your face twisting into a dissatisfied expression and tried to relax it back into something more neutral. There were times when you found you could rely on the eldest of your children, and times when you thought it was better to keep things to yourself, and you weren’t sure which one this was.
“Someone emailed me,” you hedge. “I’m just trying to decide how I feel.”
“That’s your worried face,” said Seokjin. “You only make that face about work and about us. But you also whine when you’re worried about work, so it’s about us, isn’t it? Which one of the kids is failing school?”
“No one is failing school,” you laugh. “Namjoon could be doing better, but I’m certain he just doesn’t care as much as his teachers want him to. Neither does Yoongi…. You know, as a teacher myself, I should probably be more concerned.”
“You’re appropriately concerned,” Seokjin reassured you. “Why should you worry about things you can’t control? You’re just going to age faster.”
“You’re going to stop calling me old one day.”
“Lying isn’t healthy,”
“Says the kid who lied his way into adoption.”
“I took advantage of my situation. That’s not lying, that’s cunning.”
“I didn’t raise you like this,” you say, standing.
“No, but that’s kind of the point, isn’t it? I’m raising myself, six kids, and my guardian. I can’t tell if I’m doing a piss poor job or not.”
“Language, Kim Seokjin!”
“Dinner, seonsaengnim!” he shouted back. The problem was, you aren’t sure if he successfully distracted you from your concerns or if you successfully distracted him from you.
===
Song Jieun’s email bothered you intermittently throughout the week. It’s not like you forgot she existed. You’ve received a hefty sum into your bank account every month for taking care of the boys, enough to make you wonder exactly why her new husband didn’t want to take care of them when he would probably be spending a lot less money if they were under his own roof. So no, Song Jieun wasn’t someone you forgot existed unlike like you could the rest of your kids’ parents, she just… wasn’t relevant. So it bothered you that she was trying to make herself relevant now, after six months of silence.
“You’re doing the thing again,” Seokjin poked your face. You startled, unaware that he had approached, but thankfully kept your coffee mug full. “What are you so worried about?”
“Nothing,” you say for the umpteenth time that week. “I’m not worried about anything.”
“You’ve been ‘not-worried’ since last Thursday,” Seokjin argued.
“So then why do you keep asking me what’s wrong?” You didn’t have to turn to see the weighted stare he gave you, you could feel it. That was the thing about your kids, all of them. They had a way of making you feel like you were the one in trouble, you were the one being raised instead of the other way around. Some days you were convinced that they were the ones keeping you around, explicitly for financial reasons.
“If you’re just going to insist on being stubborn,” Seokjin sighed. He poured two cups of coffee, one for himself and one for Yoongi, and turned the kettle on for Namjoon. The other boys would be zombie-walking their way into the kitchen for breakfast soon, so you and Seokjin set to work preparing leftovers from dinner a few nights ago.
“Song Jieun wants to visit the boys,” after a long, silent moment, you finally admit your concern. The kettle was puffing it’s pre-whistle warning, so you turned it off, sitting the pot on its wicker table mat until Namjoon made his way to the table.
“Who’s Song Jieun?” asked Seokjin. “Which boy? Not me, right?”
“No, of course not you, silly. You won’t even tell me your parents’ names. How am I supposed to know when they come to visit?”
“Trust me, they won’t,” Seokjin’s tone left no room for discussion, just a sad or regretful sort of resentment.
“If you say so,” you shrugged off your curiosity, familiar with how closed-off this kid got when it came to his home life before you. “Song Jieun is Taehyung’s mom and Jimin’s stepmom.”
“The coworker who tricked you into adopting them?”
“That’s what you got out of that?”
“Isn’t that what happened?”
“That’s besides the point,”
“That is the point.”
“What’s what point?” Namjoon shuffled into the kitchen.
“Our guardian is trying to decide if the twins should see their mother.” Seokjin answered.
“That’s not what I said,”
“That’s what you were going to say.”
“Everyone else gets nice, obedient, adoring children,” you grumbled. “I get sassy monsters who boss me around.”
“You raised us like this,” Namjoon said absently.
“I did not, you raised yourselves.”
“Same thing,” both boys speak in unison.
“I’m giving you two away.”
“Good luck living with Yoongi without us,” Seokjin shrugged. “You’ll be begging me to come back by the end of the week.”
“Joke’s on you, this is the end of the week.”
“My point still stands.”
“Okay, I quit, I won’t win this one,” you literally throw your hands in the air.”
“Good,” Jin grins at you in that cheeky way he’s mastered, taunting you.
“So what’s this about the twin’s mom though?” asked Namjoon. “I thought she…” he trailed off, but you understood what he was saying, or rather, what he didn’t want to say. I thought she didn’t want them.
“Yes and no,” you say. “She just… it’s… not exactly complicated, not if I were in her position, but… let’s just say, some people are stupid and not everyone has the same priorities.”
“Song Jieun chose to make herself happy over taking care of her kids?” Seokjin translated. “She didn’t want to take them to live with her new husband?”
“More or less,” You agree, taking note of the bitterness in his tone.
“You’re not allowed to get married,” Namjoon mumbled from the table.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re not allowed to leave us or get rid of us because you want to be married,” Namjoon repeated. He’s obviously still half asleep from the way he lays his head down in his arms, but your heart clenches just a little bit from the casual desperation he speaks with.
“If I were to get married,” you said, “my future spouse would know that they come in eighth place anyway. I’m not getting rid of you, even your original parents would have to fight me. God will have to fight me.”
“But you’re still not allowed,” said Namjoon.
“Drink your tea, you’re talking crazy,” said Seokjin. “Our guardian will have to actually date first, and we all know that won’t happen.”
“The disrespect, I tell you!”
It’s after breakfast and during the chaos of getting seven young boys dressed and prepared for school when Seokjin knocks on your bedroom door frame, wearing an anxious expression.
“... Can I talk to you for a moment?”
“What’s up?” you asked. Seokjin walked fully into the room and closed the door.
“About… the twins? I… I don’t know what you’re thinking about, and that’s valid, but… I think you should maybe let them see her?” Seokjin didn’t fidget like the rest of the kids did. He leaned against the door, arms crossed and focused his eyes fully on you. It was moments like these when you realized exactly how mature your eldest was, and you recognized that most of it wasn’t because of you. Namjoon and Yoongi were you. Seokjin had probably been raising himself for longer than he’s lived with you.
“Okay,” you said.
“I just… if it was me, I would want to know that she still cared, right? And she does, I guess. You mentioned that she sends them money, and she wrote you a letter asking forgiveness, so that has to mean something. I just don’t want them feeling abandoned like the rest of us. Not if they don’t have to.”
“I’m just worried that it will confuse them even more,” you admitted. “It took weeks before Jimin would talk to us openly. Jieun-ssi isn’t going to stay. She’ll come for an afternoon or a day, take the kids out, spoil them, and then bring them back here, and they’ll both be wondering why. And I don’t know how to answer that question.”
“With the truth, obviously,” Seokjin rolled his eyes. “You’re always straight-forward with us. Why should this be any different?” Because they’re younger than you were. Because they were given away, not abandoned. Because their parent still cares from a distance. Because I don’t like making you all cry. Because picking up pieces has never been fun.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you said instead. “I’ll think about it.”
“Okay,” Seokjin nodded, and you can see him visibly deflate, relieved to be finished with the conversation. “That’s all I wanted to say. Don’t forget to take your lunch with you.”
“Make sure all the kids have theirs,” you countered.
“It’s funny because you thought I didn’t already do that,”
“I love you, Kim Seokjin,” was your response.
“I love you too, I guess.”
=======
Your talk with Seokjin gave you a new perspective, but you still felt apprehensive about everything. You just didn’t like the idea of hurting Jimin and Taehyung any more than they already have been. What type of guardian would you be if you just let them walk back into heartbreak? What if this was just a one-time visit and Song Jieun never came to see her children again? What do you do when the boys ask to see her again? You had been lucky that you only had to have one conversation about not being able to take the boys to see their mother in the last six months, but if Jieun could make the time and the trip to come visit, then what will be your excuse now? What if this visit was actually a prelude to taking the boys back home with her?
Oh.
Huh.
So that was the real problem then. You didn’t want the boys to leave you. As much as you groaned and complained about taking in so many kids -- usually just to yourself, but sometimes your stress got the better of you in front of the kids -- you loved them. Each one of them, you loved and adored them and the thought of any of them leaving you or being taken away hurt. Not only that, but where in the hell would any of those parents get off, what right did any of them have to come to you and even fix their mouths to ask you for “their” kid back? You had words prepared for each and every so-called “parent” of all seven of your boys, copies of your lost child police reports, drafts of parental rights transfer papers, the phone number for several NCPA lawyers, and a fist just itching to make contact.
But what if Taehyung and Jimin preferred to be with Jieun anyway? She is their mother. She raised them for years, even if she was Jimin’s stepmother. You’ve only had the “twins” as you and the older boys had taken to calling them, for six months. Why would they want to stay with you?
“Okay, but she didn’t say she wants to take the kids,” you told yourself against the slew of depressing thoughts. You retrieved your phone from your pocket and opened your emails. Finally pressed reply. “She just wants to visit. A visit is… safe. It’ll be okay.”
Probably.
=======
Later that day you received a new email. Song Jieun will be in town that weekend. Tomorrow.
It took a lot of effort for you not to swear and make plans to take the kids out of town.
=======
Song Jieun was pretty. She wasn’t particularly tall or “skinny” like what TV liked to portray, but she was hippy and had a cute face and short hair that she curled most days. She favored dresses with blazers or oversized sweaters and skinny jeans, with pale makeup and dark pink lipsticks. It was easy to pick her out at the cafe she asked to meet at. She sat alone off to the side, a coffee already in front of her, but two plates with fruit-decorated cakes were also placed nearby. You considered telling her that the boys weren’t allowed any sweets right now. It wouldn’t have been a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. They weren’t allowed sweet things like cakes until after dinner and only when they behaved well. Still, you decided that was just your frustration and jealousy talking. You didn’t want to punish the two boys because of their mother, so you bite your tongue and hold your bitterness and let it go.
“Jieun-ssi,” you greet uselessly, as the moment Taehyung and JImin saw her they sprinted across the room to tackle the woman in hugs. Jieun’s smile stretched across her face and she cooed and made cute noises as she greeted her sons in return. You felt something creep in your chest that felt a lot like jealousy. But you weren’t jealous. You couldn’t be. You just hugged them this morning when they tried to tickle you awake. You held both of their hands from your house to the cafe. You had nothing to be jealous of, they were your kids now.
“How have you been?” Jieun asked when you sat down across from her. Jimin and Taehyung were already seated and digging into the cakes she bought for them. You barely had a chance to answer before your chatterbox was rattling off every activity he’s done for the last six months to his mother. Jimin grinned and threw in his two-cent’s worth every few minutes, but generally let Taehyung carry the conversation for him. And you, in spite of all of the emotions pressing on your chest and clouding your judgement and making you really, really want to shake Song Jieun, you enjoy yourself. You watch your boys -- your boys -- smile and chatter and sing and show off for their mother. You wonder if they’ll be okay going home, if you’ll have tears to clean up later, or arguments to break up, or just pieces to sort out and glue, but right now the kids are happy, and right now, that’s what you’ll enjoy.
=======
Taehyung climbed into your bed that night. He should have been asleep an hour ago at least, you’re sure, but he’s seemed to have a lot on his mind since this afternoon, and you’ve been letting the kid have his own space to figure out his thoughts. As hyper as he normally is, Taehyung is also prone to moments where he just sits and fiddles and thinks and you’ve learned that it doesn’t do any good to bother him about it.
“Can’t sleep?” Taehyung shook his head as he slid across the blankets to bury his face into your shirt. You curled an arm around his shoulders and held him close.
“Mommy…” Taehyung started and trailed off. “Is Mommy happy without me?”
It felt like your heart stopped with the words of his question, but you continued to brush his hair with your fingers. It was a difficult question to answer. You wanted to be honest, but you also didn’t want to hurt him. Unfortunately, there weren’t too many ways to answer without hurting Taehyung one way or another.
“What do you mean?” Taehyung was quiet for another short moment before he spoke again.
“Mommy… didn’t seem sad. And she said she’ll see us another time. And… she got married, but she didn’t want to keep me and Jiminie… So I started wondering… is she happy now? Happier than she was before when it was just me and her and Jiminie? Did we -- I don’t think -- I --” And the kid seemed to break then, all of the tears that hadn’t been shed for six months seeming to finally culminate into an emotional outburst. You shushed him, holding him just a little more tightly, and the fingers in his hair moved down to stroke his back. This was the thing you had wanted to avoid, and while part of you felt satisfied to be right, most of you just fought your own tears. It hurt to see one of your kids so hurt. You aren’t a stranger to crying children, but this emotional distress was something that never got better. You thought that maybe Jieun had talked to the boys beforehand, maybe Taehyung had dealt with his emotions before he came to live with you and that was why he seemed so well-adjusted. Clearly, Taehyung had just been living in denial, or maybe with the belief that his mother would come back for him “later,” that you were only a temporary home.
“This isn’t your fault, Taetae,” you murmured. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Sometimes… sometimes adults make hard decisions. We think we’re doing the right thing and… sometimes it’s hard to see if we’ve made the right choice or not.” You sighed, picking through your words super carefully. “I think… I think that your mother made what she thought was the best decision for both herself and for you and Jimin. She believed she would be happy with her new husband. But she did not believe you and Jiminie would be happy. So she put you somewhere that you could be. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, but I’m still sad,” Taehyung cried harder.
“I know,” you said, “and that’s okay. I would be sad too.”
“I just want my mommy back,”
“I know.”
“I don’t want you to get married,” Taehyung said suddenly, long after his sobs had calmed down. Tears still fell, but slowly now. “I don’t want you to send me away too.”
“If you listen to your Jinnie-hyung, he says that won’t happen because I don’t date anyway.”
“Mommy didn’t date for a long time… and then she did. And then she got married.”
“I won’t get rid of you even if I did get married, Taetae,” you told him.
“You’re still not allowed to get married,” he argued. “Or date. You have to be mine forever and ever, okay?”
“No matter what, I will be yours forever and ever,” you agreed.
“Can I sleep here tonight?” Taehyung asked. “I'm comfy and you make me not sad.”
“Of course,” you said. “You’re comfy like a teddy bear, I don’t want you to go.”
=======
In the morning, Taehyung was bouncing off the walls, screaming as he chased Jungkook around the house. Jimin was curled into a corner of the sofa, giggling while he watched his brothers play and encouraging Taehyung in his antics. You could hardly tell that Taehyung had an emotional breakdown the previous night. You knew he was far from being “over” his feelings about his mother, he was only eight and the feelings were complicated. But he was happy for now and that made you happy. You’ll deal with the noise and the chaos and shout at the kids yet again about running inside where things were breakable including themselves as long as they kept smiling.
Surprisingly, it was Namjoon who came knocking at your door after bedtime that night. Similar to Taehyung, he didn’t speak or ask permission, just closed the door behind him and slid into your bed. Buried himself beneath the blankets and stuck his head beneath the pillow and tucked his gangly limbs into a ball. You were familiar with these moods, but haven’t seen one in years, not since you took in Seokjin. So you finished the chapter you had been reading, turned off the light, and sank down to lay your head on your pillows. Similar to Taehyung, Namjoon would speak when he was ready, when he found the right words to use to express his feelings.
“You really won’t get married, right?” Namjoon whispered beneath the pillow next to you. His voice was heavily muffled, but you’d been waiting for him to speak for some time. You just didn’t expect for him to continue a joke conversation from several days ago.
“What’s wrong with me getting married?” you asked.
“If you get married, you’ll have to get rid of us.”
“There is no world where I will give up any of you just to get married, Namjoon.”
“But that’s what happens, isn’t it?” said Namjoon. “Adults… if they aren’t married, but they have kids… they get rid of them so that they can date. Because kids get in the way. Because it’s stupid to take care of other people’s kids.”
“Why does it sound like you just called me stupid?” Your sarcasm probably wasn’t appropriate for the moment, but the words slipped before you thought about it.
“We’re really lucky to have you, we know that,” said Namjoon. “But that just means --”
“Namjoon, I’m going to stop you right there,” you cut him off before he finishes. You remove the pillow from his face so that he can hear you clearly, and card your fingers through his hair. “I didn’t create any of you. I didn’t ask for any of you. But I have you. And I love you. I adore you. I will tear apart skies, drain oceans, and vanquish God if it will keep you all safe and happy, okay? If your parents ever come back for you, I will press charges against them and make it so that they can never look at you, let alone hurt you ever again, do you understand me, Kim Namjoon? You and Yoongi and Jungkook and Seokjin and Hoseok and Taehyung and Jimin, you’re all mine. You’re my kids, all seven of you, and I will be damned if any lover or spouse, or anything at all, comes between me and you. I don’t say that because it sounds good -- although seriously, you have to admit that this is one of my better speeches,” -- at that, Namjoon giggled, the noise muted and soft, but a win was a win -- “but I say these things because I mean them. I will put a brick in the hospital for you, Joonie.” You hesitate, but continue anyway. “If it weren’t for you, I may have left the country at the end of that year. Teaching is fun, but I wasn’t super happy before. But then you asked me to take you home and you were so cute that I got attached almost immediately. I didn’t want to take you to the police and have them send you to your parents. I liked having someone to come home to. I liked taking care of you. Most people go get a pet or a lover when they’re feeling lonely, but here’s me, collecting kids like you’re pokemon cards.”
“No one collects pokemon cards anymore,”
“What, is Yu-Gi-Oh back in style?”
“What even is that?”
“The coolest card game ever. Period.” Namjoon laughs again, and you feel accomplished.
“It’s not that cool if I’ve never heard of it,” Namjoon argues.
“Joonie. I love you. But even I know you aren’t the coolest among your classmates.”
“I’m the coolest out of all my friends!”
“I won’t argue about that. I’m also sure that in your group of friends, ‘coolest’ means ‘knows the biggest words and has the best grades.’”
“You’re just jealous,”
“Absolutely. I wish I knew as many words as you do. Imagine how much fun I’d have fussing at you kids in Smart People language!”
“Why are you like this?”
“Please, other kids wish they had someone as cool as me taking care of them.”
Namjoon cuddled closer to you in the bed, laying his head on your shoulder and gripping your pajama shirt. You spend a few minutes massaging his scalp, a soothing gesture for you just as much as it is for him. After a few minutes, you begin drifting off, believing Namjoon is on the verge of sleep as well.
“Are you really okay?” he asks. “With taking care of all of us? You don’t… want to go back home?”
“I am home, silly,” you flick the side of his head gently. “I love you. And even if I wanted to go back to my home country, don’t think I won’t take each one of you with me. I said you’re mine. I mean it.”
“Okay.”
And it’s not that you don’t believe him, but you know your kid. You know he internalizes things and finds convoluted ways to take blame for other peoples’ problems, including your own. You know it will be a while yet before he truly accepts and believes you when you say you want to keep him and enjoy taking care of him. But you also know that he wants to believe you and he’s trying. You idly wonder if you’ll have to have some sort of discussion in the morning, an announcement over breakfast that no children will be displaced in the event of an unlikely wedding. You dismiss the thought, deciding it was more likely to incite panic and give you a headache more than anything else.
To find more of my child-bangtan fics, select the "Collecting Strays" tag at the bottom of this page ^_^
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fbfh · 4 years ago
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here’s to always finding each other
pairing: percy x gn child of calliope reader
wc: 1.6k
warnings: percy kisses reader following a prior agreement that they don’t remember but it’s 100% consentual, you work retail, a hell yeah, memory loss, I think that’s it
summary: You didn’t really expect to have to spend your entire eight hour shift organizing shoe wax any more than you expected your fictional crush from middle school to be real and your boyfriend. Only one of those happened (and the shoe wax was still very disorganized when you left).
song rec: this lofi mix, boba manifesto - chris flemming (mostly as a joke but it slaps)
a/n: i am wOrKiNg oN tHiNgS!!!!!! It’s going well!!! expect some fun surprises soon!!!!!!!!!
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Crouched down on the ground, rearranging an end cap of shoe wax in the men’s department wasn’t really what you thought being a grownup would be like as a kid. You can’t complain too much, the pay is pretty good and working conditions are decent - as much as they can be in retail. You stand up to check your progress (and stretch your legs) and notice that guy is still there. He’s been hovering around the athletic shirts and pants for a while, and he keeps checking his phone and looking around. You’re sure he’s probably just waiting for someone, but you’re considering asking if you can help him find anything. 
He has a vaguely familiar energy, and your stomach drops for a moment, hoping you don’t know him from school or something. God, that would be a nightmare. That’s happened to you once or twice, bumping into someone you went to school with, and it’s always as bad as you expect. 
‘You know what,’ you think, trying to see if you can fit the last few containers of wax on the shelf without making them topple over, ‘he’s probably fine. If he needs help he’ll ask for it.’ 
You go back to scanning and adjusting the prices of the clearance shoe polish - the company had changed their packaging recently, so it’s out with the old and in with the identical - but you still can’t shake the feeling of familiarity. 
He turns around, holding up an orange shirt that says ‘go for it’ in a ridiculous font, and you get a glimpse of his face. 
You crouch back down so he won’t catch you staring, and the realization dawns on you. He looks a lot like Percy Jackson from the books you read in middle school. Or was it high school? Everything between 6th grade and high school graduation is kind of blurry and confusing in your memory. Man, you should really re-read those, you heard there was a TV series in the works and you want to remember all the details for when it comes out. You’re a little surprised at how nervous that revelation makes you, like the feeling when you’re a kid going to a theme park and you can see the roller coasters as you pull into the parking lot. Weird. Anyway, it’s not the first time you’ve seen a customer who looks like a character from something. One time you saw someone who you swore looked just like Pidge from the Voltron reboot that came out a few years ago, and a coworker saw a girl who looked like an anime character she loves… Raka something? Her name sounded like gravity, but that wasn’t it. You shrug, making a mental note to ask her about it later. 
You stand up once again to take one final look before you move onto the next end cap, and see that the guy is standing next to you. You look up at him, and all those weird feelings of excitement and something close to anticipation amplify, as you get a closer look at him. He really, really looks like Percy Jackson. Like if the Viria art was a real person. 
“Uh… hi, can I help you find anything today?” You ask, snapping out of your daze and into your customer service voice. He takes a second before answering, and you’re a little unnerved by the way he’s looking at you; warm and intimately, like he’s known you for years. 
“No,” he replies, a dreamy tone to his voice, “I’ve got everything I need.” You’re pleasantly surprised and a little freaked out that he even has the accent. Seriously, if he’s not already, this guy should really get into cosplay. Also, is he flirting with you? He seems to realize what he just said, and backtracks slightly. 
“Actually, um, I was wondering if you could help me out with something over here,” he says, and you agree, in your signature chipper tone. He guides you to a table covered in various sweatpants behind a mirror. 
He glances around again, and you have to ask. 
“You know, if you’re having trouble finding someone we can-”
“Walkie customer service to have my group meet me at the front desk.” He finishes seamlessly. 
“It’s not my first time at the rodeo,” he chuckles, and you get the feeling there’s more meaning behind what he’s saying, like an inside joke you’re not a part of. 
“Oh… yeah.” you say, and he can sense your surprise, “How did you…” you trail off, and he can sense the silent question in your voice. He lets out a breathy chuckle, cheeks flushed pink.
“Like this.” 
He catches your face in his hands, and presses his lips to yours. Your eyes widen in shock, mostly at the fact that you don’t feel threatened by his presence at all. You’re shocked at how comfortable you feel around him, how you feel in your bones that you’ve known him for years when the logical side of your brain is telling you that you first saw him ten minutes ago. He pulls away, searching your eyes for… something. 
“Uh…” you glance away, brow slightly furrowed, then back up at him, “what the fuck?” 
His expression softens, and he says gently, “Give it a minute.” 
You’re about to ask him to give what a minute, when a barrage of memories, feelings, people you don’t think you’ve ever met but seemed to be best friends with knocks you off your feet. You try to take in a breath, but the air in the room seems to have taken a temporary vacation from your lungs. 
You look up at him, eyes flared in understanding and shock. He mutters something in confirmation. Someone yells nearby, and you both look over to an adolescent boy asking his mom why he can’t wear neon basketball shorts to school. Percy looks back over at you.
“Is there somewhere a little more-” the mom starts arguing back and forth with her son at a louder volume, and he continues, “private… where we could talk?”
“Uh, yeah, I’ll… I’ll get somewhere.”
A few minutes later, you’re sitting across from each other on two step stools in one of the stock rooms. You’re still surprised at how easily you had lied to your boss that your long distance boyfriend showed up a few weeks early after over a year of not being able to see each other, and you needed a moment to catch up. She had agreed readily, asking that you tell her when you’re ready to get back to your tasks. 
“I’m sorry about that,” he starts, snapping you out of your train of thought, and you look up at him, “I never would have kissed you without asking, but you made me promise last time that the next time you lose your memories I would get them back to you as fast as I can.” 
“Uh, it’s okay, I feel like I remember talking about that.” Your memories are still fuzzy, but coming back sporadically.
“It can take a few days for them to come back fully.” He adds. 
The most surreal part of this is you remember vividly what happened in the books - because you lived through it. You hold back a giddy laugh bubbling up.
“So…” you begin, and he looks at you, his gaze warm, “it’s all real?” you breathe the words, almost afraid of an answer. 
“Yeah,” he chuckles, looking away briefly, overwhelmed that you’re with him once again.
“The short version is, since your godly parent is Calliope, you sometimes get sent to other worlds. You kind of have to hop scotch from one place to another, like getting a goldfish used to a new bowl of water. The mist - or sometimes,” he glances up, pointedly and irritable, “other factors - usually take away a lot of your memories. They say it’s to make the transition easier, but who knows. Anyway, there are these waypoints, kind of like a time loop that you hang out in until you’re either ready to leave or one of us finds you first.”
“So this…” you motion around to the rows of cardboard boxes filled with plastic cups and paper towels. He nods and you let out a laugh of relief that you really won’t have to work here long term. 
“As soon as you’re ready we should probably head out to camp. It’s gonna be a bit of a drive.” 
“Wait, it’s all like… here? Like in this world?”
“Yeah,” he smiles again, once more sending butterflies through your chest. 
You let out a disbelieving, excited laugh.
“Alright. Yeah, okay. Let’s do it.” 
Before you can get up, he takes your hand in his. He watches his fingers skim back and forth for a minute before looking up at you. 
“You know that I’ll always find you, right?” there’s an overwhelming torrent of emotions he’s somehow managing to convey through his eyes. 
“It doesn’t matter where you go, or how long you’re gone, or if we even remember each other. I will always find you.” His hand comes up to your cheek for the second time today, and your head tilts into his embrace automatically. You somehow trust him more than anyone or anything else right now. You nod gently.
“I do.”
He glances away again, cheeks flushing red, and he sighs, kissing your forehead. 
You get up and head towards the exit together, and he wraps his arm around your shoulder.
“How about we get some bubble tea once we’re in the city?”
“Oh hell yeah!” 
You don’t remember the last time you had bubble tea, but it sounds really, really good right now. 
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backalley-requests · 4 years ago
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The Proposal | Chapter Two
The Proposal Masterlist
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Summary: The Proposal™ au, where Ivar gets swept away in a lie about a fake engagement to stay in the country and needs to convince everyone (including his family) that he’s genuinely engaged to a woman he works with
Warnings: Mild swearing, dickish behavior
Word Count: 2,085
That’s how you found yourself sitting down for a meeting next to your boss, pretending the two of you were in love and set to get married. You were more outwardly nervous than him and your leg was bouncing. It made a quiet but consistant tap on the floor.
“Will you cut that out,” Ivar snapped.
You stopped bouncing your foot and glared at him. “I’m nervous.” It wasn’t a voluntary action but it helped with the nerves. Your head tilted up to the ceiling. The office was small and the two of you sat in chairs next to each other. Across from you was an empty desk. The case worker wasn’t here yet. Was this normal? It was 10 am but felt much earlier, and the silence was so loud. The two of you never had normal conversations.
“Don’t be, it’s annoying.”
Did he expect you to remain a calm worker under these conditions? It wasn’t like he could fire you. Both of you risked losing if you didn’t stick around. It felt like a sick game of chicken. “How can I not be? We’re here because you—“
The conversation was cut short by the metal door opening. It felt like a prison, as if the two of you were being detained and Ivar didn’t even want to discuss a game plan. He had actually rolled his eyes when you asked for one.
The man was dressed in a black suit and tie, his hair was short and his face shaven. “Shall we begin?” He lacked pleasantries and it only added to your growing paranoia. There was no handshake or introduction. The man jumped into it. Immediately you felt yourself zoning in and out. Half the time you were thinking too much to listen and the other half was spent committing it to memory.
Ivar nodded confidently, evening out to a neutral. How were you supposed to project that same level of confidence? He appeared so unbothered and you stuck out like a sore thumb. The interviewer took notice. “Step one will be a scheduled interview and I’ll ask you every little question a real couple would know about each other.”
That was easy. You already knew way too much about the man. He shoved off too much personal responsibilities onto you that he didn’t want to do. You even wrote his Christmas cards at this point.
“Step two, I dig deeper, I look at your phone records, I talk to your neighbors, interview your coworker.”
The two of you didn’t have a story. The two of you communicated often for work but they weren’t out to anyone. Well— technically the two of you didn’t have a relationship to be out about. You glance over at Ivar who didn’t bother to look back at you. He seemed so eerily calm while all you could do was panic.
You were pretty sure you missed something important by the time you glanced back to the interviewer. Did you miss his name? Did he even offer one? Your leg began to bounce again.
“If your answers don’t match up at every point. You will be deported indefinitely,” he looked at Ivar, “and you will have committed a felony. Punishable by a fine of 250,000 dollars and a stay of 5 years in federal prison.” His gaze turned to you and you froze.
The sound of your heart beating drowned out whatever the man said next. It didn’t take long for both men to notice. You were in too deep. You couldn’t do this! Why did you even bother agreeing?
“Y/N?” The interviewer asked.
You couldn’t handle prison. You never even got into a fight before in your life. You’ve seen prison shows, they’re always fighting. They’d eat you alive.
“Y/N, do you want to talk to me?”
Ivar elbowed you harsh but discreetly. His blue eyes were intense and it brought you back to your reality. You had already spent three years working for him. Another two at the company. Being fired wasn’t an option and you’ve been dying to get promoted since you came there. If you could pull it off... what’s three years on paper? You blinked and nodded your head.
“You do?”
“Wait no— I mean I don’t.” You took a deep breath and held it. This man had to see right through it from the moment he walked in.
“The truth is…” you glanced at Ivar, “we’re just two people who weren’t meant to fall in love. But we did. Six months ago. We weren’t going to come out to our coworkers, not until we didn’t think they’d judge us,” your face was red and you found yourself staring down into your lap as you played with your fingers. “Especially with my promotion coming up.”
You paused, trying to see if what you said convinced him at all. “So, have either of you told your parents about your… secret love?” The interviewer wrote down notes onto a notepad.
“Oh, um, impossible. My parents are dead,” you admitted casually with an awkward laugh. “No brothers or sisters either. You can check if you want—“
“I will.”
The silence was deafening.
“What about you, Ivar? Are yours dead?”
Ivar scoffed at the mention of his family. It was clear to you that on some level he truly thought he was above being here. How could he be so casual?
You decided to cut in, “no. We were going to tell them this weekend. It’s his father’s birthday. The whole family is coming together. We thought it’d be a nice surprise.”
Once the lies began it was hard to stop them. But the event was true but Ivar’s attendance wasn’t. He had you tell them he wasn’t going. But as you spoke you got more confident.
“And where exactly is this going to take place?” The man was quizzing you.
“Aalborg, Denmark. It’s located along Kattegat Bay,” you replied. Ivar’s face twitched in surprise that you knew it at all. Your face never quite calmed down and kept a pinkish hue.
The interviewer stared intently at you, searching for signs.
“That’s right,” Ivar cut in, trying to save you.
“Isn’t Denmark a little far?”
“Well it’s not like I have a visa to lose at this point,” Ivar rolled his eyes.
The interviewer shrugged. “Next Friday at 10am, I expect you both to be here for the scheduled interviews.”
“What was your fucking problem? You may as well have worn a sign that we’re trying to commit a felony?”
You were floored. Did he actually want to start things off like this. “Like you were much better? You looked pissed off and detached! If you wanted better results maybe you should’ve interjected more.”
“It was fun to watch you flounder until I realized your actions have consequences,” he shrugged casually. What was wrong with him? “And now Mr. Harold Millington is going to be lurking through my family.” Oh that’s what the man’s name was. Had it shared that? Did you actually miss it?
“Just tell your family then. Have them lie.” If they were anything like Ivar then being manipulative should be in their nature.
Ivar rubbed the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. “They wouldn’t agree to it.” It meant they had to go. That created the new fact that you had sentenced the both of them on a trip to Denmark. It was that or he gets sent home forever and you’re in federal prison. “How did you even know that?”
“Know what?”
“About my father’s birthday.”
“You had me send them condolences,” you crossed your arms over your chest and rolled your eyes. “I actually know a ton of things about you. It’s you who has a week to learn everything about me.”
He stood before you in his bitterness. He didn’t deny your statement. It was one thing to have marriage papers and never speak of it again for three years and another to pretend to his family that he was in an actual relationship. His mor had wanted it forever now. “Book the flights, since you’re so used to doing everything for me.”
You had a laundry list of people to contact and he expected you to book flights? Your gut instinct was to tell everyone the truth and convince them to lie to the authorities, but that seemed a little much to ask. “It’s your home, why don’t you book them?”
The two of you continued to bicker when the interviewer from earlier stepped out of the building. The two of you immediately silenced as Millington walked by, “remember. Deportation and federal prison. It’s not too late to come clean.”
The smug look on his face pissed you off. You watched the man walk further away and down the block. “I may not like you, Ivar, but I like you more than that guy,” you said bitterly as your eyes remained trained on the agent in the distance.
“At least we agree on that.”
“I want him to feel like a moron.”
“So then let’s do that,” Ivar’s words caught your attention as you glanced back to him. “He knows the truth but if we make it rock solid he’ll have no choice. It’ll drive him insane.”
You laughed, “I probably should’ve guessed your favorite pass time was belittling people and making them regret their life choices.”
“I liked you better when you just delivered coffee,” Ivar responded. The same anger from earlier was gone but that didn’t stop Ivar from starting to walk away from you. You were left standing, irrationally angry at that decision. Civilities were out the window. He had nothing over you anymore. Neither could pull the plug. And he’s been on your nerves for a while. How did you ever find that man attractive?
“Goodbye to you too, asshole!”
“I’m coming back for the week,” Ivar held the phone to his ear, waiting for his mother’s response. If he was being honest he was actually a little nervous about it. He actually loved his mother. The rest of them were hit or miss. But he hadn’t been back home in a long time.
“Really?”
The excitement in her voice got to him, not that he’d confess it. “I was going to introduce my girlfriend to you guys.” He hated lying.
“You have a girlfriend?” He hadn’t even mentioned the idea of one to her in forever. Not since he left Denmark for the last time. She’d been pestering forever. “Since when did you get a girlfriend?”
“Mor—“ he took a deep breath and sighed, “she works for me.”
“Oh— so it’s one of those situations.”
Was she judging him already? “Just be prepared for her.” He noticed the dip in her voice and he bit hard on his bottom lip.
“Your father is going to be so happy to have you home.” Aslaug started to talk more about it. He was surprised she wasn’t fuming at the mention of his old man. It occurred to him then that maybe his family missed him more than he realized. She was already making plans, doting on him for finding someone and talking about how relieved she is that her son found someone. “Hey Ivar— is she beautiful?” He was brought out of his thoughts by the question.
Were you? He already knew the answer. You were. It wasn’t a crazy thought. Ivar always thought you were beautiful. From the moment you walked into his office the first day holding a cup of his favorite coffee— how you ever found out before meeting him he’ll never know. It’s what told him you were beyond him. There was a hint of too much perfection that he had immediately felt anger. That anger eventually settled to annoyance.
But if he actually hated you he probably would’ve fired you by now. The issue is that you’d never genuinely go for him. He had his own love life of sorts, money speaks for itself, he could get laid. What he couldn’t get was more, who would genuinely date him? It was easier to resent than pine.
“Yes.”
Aslaug laughed on the other end, “you took a little long there to respond, Ivar.”
“Sorry— she is, mor, I’m just busy with some work. I’ll call you before the plane leaves.”
“Please do. Oh, and Ivar, dear. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Taglist** @youbloodymadgenius
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In the Gathering Gloom | Leone Abbacchio x Reader
You think you might want him to hold you, but you refrain from crossing that line. It is a game that lovers play – and he is not yours. To love him, for what he has done and more, is sacrilege.
A continuation of Stealing Past the Windows
Content Warnings: P-TSD
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You never cared for bruttiboni very much, but you do not mind the ones that Leone purchases from the bakery down the street at La Torta e il Coniglio. In truth, you are thankful for anything he brings home, for you remember what it was like to nearly starve so clearly that it might have been an old habit of survival. It has made you appreciative of the dry almond biscuits. Besides, they are far better dunked in hot coffee.
Leone takes the seat across from you at the breakfast nook. Laid out in front of him is nothing more than a ceramic mug of sweetened tea. You have learned, in your time living together, that he seldom eats in the morning – something to do with luncheons with his coworkers and not wanting to spoil his appetite. You finish your meal but before you can rise to carry your emptied plate to the sink, he has already taken it from your grasp and placed it within the basin.
Water hails from the spigot. “Thank you,” you tell him. He nods.
You fasten the apron to your torso. You have taken up a job at a local café, though not out of a monetary incentive; Leone provides for you plenty. Anything you request, he brings to you on a hypothetical silver platter – so you have stopped asking. But you understand his sense of obligation. You suppose that, in his situation, you would do anything for the child of the man you might as well have killed with your own hands. Bruttiboni will not bring back your parents; though, you appreciate the gesture.
Truthfully, you work because you need the distraction. There are only so many books to read in a day until something miniscule reminds you of the circumstances you escaped in the not quite so distant past. Perhaps it is the turning of a page in a romance novel – the scratching of parchment to parchment – that reminds you of pattering mice in the rafters. Or, the air coolant system that sounds like the rusted box fan of your former abode; to call it that – an abode – is an underserved gratuity. On several occasions, you have had to remind yourself that the gunshots on the streets below are truly nothing more than the thumping of life and movement in the apartments around you. 
Regardless of it all, the verbal silence is the worse, because it is akin to the loneliness you once felt. It is unbearable when Leone is away. And so, you press espresso shots for underpaid businessmen and lattes for mothers who rush to work after dropping their children off at school – just as your own madre had used to do every morning. Occasionally, the businessmen congregate together and stay for at least an hour; they are always cordial enough, and never leave too much of a mess to clean. The mothers, on the other hand, are gone the moment their overpriced beverage meets their grasp. You are glad that you are neither a businessman nor a mother. But you wish you still had yours.  
Leone sets the cleaned plate atop the drying rack. Water splashes on the plates that have already dried. Somebody ought to put them away, you think. Although, it is convenient to leave them there for next use. What good is it to stack a plate in the cabinet when you are going to pull it back out for dinner?
You sling your purse over your shoulder. “I’ll see you later,” you say to Leone. Taking a quick breath, you leave the sanctity of the apartment, not quite ready to face the new day. You suppose you should be beholden to the predictable, albeit boring, cycle that has become your new life.
After all, you have found exactly what you wanted.
“Didn’t I?” you ask to no one in particular but yourself.
You did.
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You settle onto the couch and twirl the fork through the mound of pasta. The tender trofie, complimented by the simple addition of pesto and cream, is the embodiment of comfort; content, you sigh and prop your sore legs upon the ottoman. It is a simple dish, to be sure – and Leone has perfected it. It has become a favorite of yours. He prepares it once a week now.
Seated beside you, he eats. The low hum of the television resonates throughout the room. It is nothing more than meager accompaniment to the words leaving your mouth. Between bites of your meal, you mutter unrepeatable expletives regarding incompetent coworkers and rude patrons. Regardless of the grievances that leave your tongue, you are relatively – though not quite entirely – happy.
Leone reaches for his wine glass, bending his wrist to swirl the nectar. Threads of red velvet flush the edges, only ever for a fleeting moment. He raises the Castello Silenzioso to his mouth. It will be his only glass tonight. It is plenty, for he drinks your soliloquy as if your words are a sweet wine poured from a from a bottle of blush – insobriety without consequence.
He enjoys listening to you complain about work far more than he should.
Once in your hand, the fork now rests against the plate, still. You catch Leone’s gaze, unexpecting to see the look of adoration that sweeps across his ombre eyes; perplexingly so, it fills you with a pang analogous to guilt. It is true that he is indebted to you. But that does not mean you cannot feel like an extortionist.
“I’m sorry,” you sigh. “I shouldn’t rant about work, especially considering that I don’t even need to be there. Mio Dio, I just feel like . . .”
A burden.
“You’re not a burden,” he interjects, as if he can peer through your clouded mind and devour the thoughts pulsing within. “If you ever say that again, I –” He cuts himself off, takes a second to breathe, and continues: “It’s not good to keep things bottled up inside. You know that.”
He is right; but the bottle has saved you once before. “You say that, but you don’t ever talk to me about your work, which is obviously something stressing you out. Perhaps, you should practice what you preach: pratica ciò che predichi, Leone.”
“No, because telling you would be a burden.”
You have no doubt that it assuredly is. And yet, your final threads of distrust for this man cling to the uncertainty of his identity. Leone gave you a home after he destroyed your first, and a family of two to replace that which he stole away. With each passing day – each morning spent in cool silence and evenings shaped by dinners of trofie – your once-steady flame of hatred for him extinguishes ever so slightly.
But forgiveness lies in the lavender fields still beyond your reach.
“Don’t I at least have a right to know what you do for a living?” you inquire, practically teetering on the edge of the soda. “Or how you came up with the money to pay off the debt?”
“No.”
You pout and desist. Perhaps he is right – perhaps it is better that you continue to dwell in the perpetual state of innocent ignorance of which you have lived in for so long now. Better that than to be the judge of something you cannot understand. Conceding is never easy, yet you do it anyways.
“Forget I asked.” You trail off, pausing before seeking an exit to the conversation. “It’s my night to do dishes; I should get started.”
Maybe tonight, you will put them away.
“Wait,” Leone says with a heavy sigh, catching you in mid-stance. “Just wait.”
You sit down. He supposes it would not hurt to tell you about his day – barring the incriminating details, of course. The smile upon your face when he begins to speak is confirmation that he has made the right choice.
Because you look at him as if his stories are as interesting as yours.
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“That’ll be ₤11,500.”
“Grazie. Keep the change.”
The handle of the grinder is stuck again. The stray coffee bean catches betwixt the blade and the stainless-steel cup. You jerk the handle back and forth in an attempt to jostle the wedged apparatus free. It cracks under the tension of your grip, so much indeed that it might break at your touch. You would rather not be the one to break the stubborn coffee grinder, and it certainly would not be pleasant to have to pay for a new one. You decide that it might be best to leave it for the next person to find.
Pausini is scheduled to work after you. Though you would never say it to her face, you find her to be terribly boring and a klutz. Better her be the one to break it than you. Besides, your boss would not be surprised if she were in fact the one to do it.
“Hey, signorina.” The cramped space of the café smells of stale cigars and a peculiar cologne with the inclusion of the latest customer. It is a familiar blend that makes your palms clammy and your knees shake. “Seems like you have your work cut out for you, eh?”
You look to the man before the counter. Although a fresh, healing scar adorns the corner of his lip to the highest crook of his eyebrow – the stitching is so crude that it looks as if his torn skin had been zipped back together – his is a face you recognize in nightmares: the man, your former procurer, who murdered your mother and forced you to work the corner.  
With plenty of grit, fixing a jammed coffee grinder is easy. But confronting your past is as arduous as Atlas holding the globe with his own two hands. Regardless, you are not paid enough to do either.
The coffee grinder falls from your slackened grasp and shatters on the floor. You do not have the chance to meet the fearful look in his eyes, for you have already fled by the time he can process your face. He remembers you from nightmares as well. He remembers the man with sleek bobbed hair who split his cheek in half with the mere swipe of his finger, too. And the dirty ex-cop who nearly pulverized his kneecap with the heel of his shoe in the process, as if his bones were no more than fiberglass.
He leaves the café without bothering to place an order and finds himself glancing over his shoulder more often than not. Meanwhile, you push past street patrons and venders alike, ignoring the angry shouts thrown your way. Your cellphone vibrates in your pocket as your shift supervisor attempts to call you, to coax you back into work. But you cannot go back there right now. You will not. Instead, you squeeze your palms and bite your lip to ward off the ever-growing panic in your chest.
Never before has Leone’s apartment door looked so enticing – so welcoming – to you; not even on the night he first brought you home. You throw yourself inside and slide against the wall of the foyer, hand raised to your mouth to stifle your own sobbing. In the living room, Leone stands. You had not realized that he would be home. You are torn between running into his arms for comfort or running away. He makes the decision for you, catching you as your knees buckle and nearly cast you aside. 
He holds you flush, your head to his chest and his hand through your hair. For a moment, you are back in the alleyway with your skirt bunched around your ankles and a chill to your spine. Broken bits of green glass lie on the cobblestone and catch the fleeting glimmers of moonbeams. You stop and listen to the beating of your own obstinate heart. It tells you that you do not want his help – you simply do not. You need it.
“Hey,” he coos as you quake in his embrace, like a newborn fawn. A fawn with wings perhaps, for you feel your lungs inflate, as if you have been cast into the sky. To anywhere other than Napoli. You suppose the world will stop for a moment if only you just close your eyes. And so, you do. Though your teeth gnaw at your bottom lip, and your chest might split in two, you keep your eyes shut, to salvage that which has mended and threatens to unravel if you should let go.
The trouble of it all, you know, is that you had never really healed. You simply had not given enough thought to it.  You are young – trapped in what are supposed to be the grandest years of your life. But life is not forgiving, and you despise her all the same.
You feel only loss. And it is suffocating.
“Sei al sicuro, [Y/N].”
Leone does not ask why you have barged home hours before the end of your shift. But it does not matter.
“You’re safe.”
You do not believe him – you cannot even speak. You clutch him tighter and realize that he has been drinking. The scent of wine shrouds him like a perfume. Now you are dizzy and leaning on him is not enough: second-hand intoxication. He carries you to bed instead, for despite your shuttering of breaths and your gasps for air, you have asked him to do so. In the fortitude of a rumpled comforter and sheets, you lie awake, clutching the pillows that smell like his shampoo – honeysuckle, leather, and cedar. Admittedly, Leone has not slept in the comforts of his own bed in months, ever since he took you in. The couch is good for him, because you deserve the bed more, he thinks.
“You’re safe.”
But the pillows still smell like him, of course.
“I saw him, Leone.”
His hand brushes your back, hesitant, before it rests along your spine.
“I’m sorry.”
You meet his sunset eyes. He looks different without his makeup – he looks as tired as he truly is. And so do you.
“Please, just say you’ll protect me,” you bed, hushed. “Even if it isn’t true. Just give me something.”
Something to cling to, because the buoy is out of reach.
“Always.”
A wave knocks you adrift.
“Don’t leave me.”
You are pulled asunder.
“Never.”
You must be drowning.
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He had not meant to fall asleep next to you. In your infectious exhaustion, you had succumbed, and he felt the temptation to do the same, soon enough. Though he promised himself that he would leave once you calmed down, he could not follow through. Your dampened cheeks had felt slick and sticky beneath his palms as he wiped them away. He lingered, admiring the way your lashes kissed the soft skin of your cheekbones, before he lied down. On his back, he memorized the pinprick holes of the ceiling, lost in thoughts of you.
He also promised that he would not fall in love with you – Leone never was one for keeping good to his word, was he? Feelings are harmless; if he does not act on them, he is content with longing. Alas, he settles in and away.
Hours later, you wake to the sound of gentle breaths next to you. Leone sleeps, caving after months without sleeping in a bed. Despite the additional blanket draped over both your bodies, you still shiver. You notice, too, that he has kept his distance. You think you might want him to hold you, but you refrain from crossing that line. It is a game that lovers play – and he is not yours. To love him, for what he has done and more, is sacrilege.
The daytime blues have blended into the nighttime rift of Napoli. The dark sky outside confirms that you have slept well into the evening, as if the analog lock on the bedside table was not telling. You glance over to Leone, who sleeps as if to forget the obligation of your existence. He looks younger this way, though you suppose that he is only a man of twenty, after all. He ought to look his age. 
Your stomach churns into knots as you begin to recollect the events of this afternoon. Your phone has several missed calls from your boss, and a text from Pausini informing you that you have been fired for your transgressions. No questions, no inquiries: just fired. You wonder what did it. Fleeing before the end of your shift, or the broken coffee grinder – perhaps the culmination of both. Realizing that you are still wearing your apron, you untether it and throw it into the darkness of the room. If you never find it again, you will be better for it. Never mind the emblems of your mistakes. They will only make you grieve.
It is an undeserving punishment, and one that will tar your resume forever. It feels as if your dreams have slipped past your fingers yet again. Groaning, you bury your face in your hands, unaware of Leone’s stirring behind you. You wish to escape to the place where no one you have ever known will come – to start anew, wherever that may be anymore. Alone, with no husband, no baby in a bassinet, and no lavender fields.
You crave solitude to wallow in your shame. Leone sits up, casting the blanket aside.  “I lost my job,” you mutter through your palms. “They fired me. I lost my fucking job.”
“You don’t need it,” he tells you. You suppose it is his way of reassuring you, though it does you little good. “The job, or the trouble it’s caused.”
“So what am I supposed to do? Sit in the living room all day eating bonbons, reading books, and watching television, like a princess in a castle?”
“Would it really be that bad?”
“For me, yes,” you affirm.
He sighs. “Alright,” Leone begins, “then we’ll start job searching tomorrow. In the meantime, it would do you good to take some time off.”
You shake your head. “I don’t want to take any time off. I can’t, Leone. You don’t understand. I need a job.”
“What do you want me to do about it right now?” You have no answer. “Conjure up one out of thin air?”
Until you do: “What about at that restaurant you always go to? Il Libeccio, or whatever. Do you think they’re hiring?”
He stiffens beside you. A cold look sweeps his face. You know that you have said something wrong.
“No,” he tells you with little room for debate. “And even if they were, I wouldn’t let you.”
But it is not your folly. To Leone, the rationality behind his refusal is simple: he wants nothing more than to keep you away from Passione. Even from his closest comrades. And even from Il Libeccio. Perhaps, it is that he fears what you will think of him should you discover his occupation – or his self-professed fall from grace, to go from being a poliziotto alongside your father, to a soldato of the most powerful gang in Italia. Indifference, anger, trepidation; he cannot fathom, and he does not wish to. He tells himself that, by keeping you away, he is keeping you safe.
But you do not understand that. And yet, how could you? In your ignorance, you scoff, irked by his insistence. “Why not? Are you afraid that your friends might see the consequences of you’ve done to my family and hate you for it? Maybe they should, if that’s what you’re so worried about.”
You have wounded him, though still he will not tell you the truth. You regret the words before they leave your mouth. His face morphs into a scowl, for your accusation has struck him, as if a knife has been placed to his belly. Your heart grows heavy with regret even as he exits the room, long overdue, with nothing else to say. The door slams so hard that it rattles on the hinges, and it makes you flinch. You are certain that your neighbors have heard it, for in the distance, a woman shouts, and a dog begins to bark; you feel like a proper idiot and a child, sitting there in the remnants of your work uniform. You wish the bed could swallow you whole. You wish to be anywhere but here.
Leone was wrong – you understand that now. A new wave of tears spills from your eyes, and you hastily wipe them away with the corner of your polo shirt. You know that you are a burden to him, indeed. You wonder what kind of apartment you will be able to afford with the money you have saved up. Perhaps it is time for you to fly the nest that you and Leone have both built together.
Perhaps it is time for a new start. 
| 3492 Words |
Tagging: @honeytea8​ @gloomygoregirl​ @idontlikerisottounlessitsnero​
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theonetheycallhannah · 4 years ago
Text
The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 16: Sit Rep
Characters: Captain Logan “Sy” Syverson, various other original supporting/secondary characters (This includes Sy’s Army Buddies of varying rank as follows: Kevin Kaufmann, Nate Banning, Chad Randall, Matt Styles, Jake Ryburn, and Travis Hodges. I apologize if I’ve mixed up their names anywhere. I just gave them last names and sometimes rank so they could be called something other than their first names for sake of variety! lol!)
Summary: Sy meets up with his Army buddies and they are eager to help.
Romance and Smut Abound HERE!
Word Count: 4.5k
Warnings: Language, firearms, implication of abuse and violence
Author’s Note: Guys, we are getting closer! Our couple will be back together soon! I can’t wait and I know most of you feel the same! I hope the strike team members aren’t too muddled and confusing. If they are, I’m very open to your feedback and suggestions on how to clarify and improve! Thank you to everyone, long time readers, and new fans picked up along the way! I cherish you all, and would never have gotten this far in the story if it wasn’t for each and every one of you! I hope you enjoy the 16th chapter (18th installment…remember when I thought this would just be a few chapters of fluff with a smutty conclusion? Lol!) of The treatment of Captain Syverson.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism. This is an original work by me, Hannah. Please reblog if you wish to share. Please do not repost either in whole or part, as the work of anyone but myself. Thanks so much for reading!
Tags:
@onlyhenrys @cavillryarchive @summersong69 @titty-teetee @bloodyinspiredfuck @agniavateira @oddsnendsfanfics @omgkatinka @thisismysecretthirstblog @speakerforthedead0 @tumblnewby  @suavechops @radkesgirl83 @wheretheriversrunintothesea @heartfelt-pen @auds24  @geekycanuck @lunarstarknight @wilma-g  @coldmuffinbanditshoe @feralrunaway  @sugarpenchant @bichibibi @mzchievous-blog
If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)
X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@
Sy sat in his truck in the parking lot of Cade's. He couldn't help but think about the last time he was here. The altercations with Elliott, both inside the bar and outside, the friendships he'd started to build with the other fellas in Shane's work group, the simple way Shane pulled off the elegance of minimalism with her wardrobe and makeup, the ride home…and the night of lovemaking that followed. He had made a mistake. He shouldn't have agreed to come tonight. He was gonna leave. His right hand reached for the keys in the ignition, a firm grip ready to set the engine roaring again, when he was startled by a rap at his window.
Tap-tappa-tap-tap his friend Kevin had just rhythmically knocked with one knuckle on the window. He was smiling and waving exuberantly, like a puppy whose master had just come home.
Sy's scowl softened into a sheepish grin and he knocked back tap-tap.  
Kevin waited near Sy's front fender while he got out of his truck.
"How ya doin' Kevin?" he greeted his old friend warmly.
"Alright, I s'pose! You?"
"Oh…I'm makin' it, I guess. What are you up to these days? Still workin' at the plant?" Kevin had worked for the 3M factory over in Lebanon, Missouri since his last tour. Sy knew if he just got him talking about his life, Sy wouldn't have to give him details about his own, which he was going to avoid like the plague, if he could tonight.
"Yup, I actually just got a promotion. I'm a line manager now." And Sy could barely congratulate him before he started delving into the details as the two men walked into Cade's.
It was already busy, even for a Friday night. But the rest of the guys had already claimed a table between the dart boards and the pool tables, and were working on a couple of pitchers of beer. The two were welcomed warmly and only slightly teased about walking in together.
With the group finally assembled, they began taking turns giving report on their lives. It began with Kevin, who, having already begun with Sy, continued with a brief recap for the others. Sy exhaled with relief when Matt, who was seated on the other side of Kevin piped up to speak next, having recently proposed to his long time girlfriend. They were going to get to him last, if at all. He listened as well as he could as he battled the troubled thoughts in his head by bombarding them with beer. Unbeknownst to him, his friend Nate, who'd organized the gathering, had been observing his behavior with curiosity, and a measure of concern. He didn't let Jake finish talking about his latest dalliance into what they were all sure was a pyramid scheme disguised as direct sales. Even though Jake insisted it was not.
"Well, I'm curious as to why Sy's been so tight-lipped all evening. What's on your mind, Captain?"
"Nothin' Nate. Just enjoying a few beers with old friends." Sy lied, not convincing anyone at the table, least of all Nate, who had been one of his closest friends while they were stationed together.
"If I wanted to hear bullshit, I'd have let Jake keep talking about the Duraplex scam."
"It's not a scam, guys, it's real supplements for busy people!" Jake defended.
"Can it, Hodges. We aren't buying it, and we aren't signing up to sell it, either." Nate focused again on Sy. "Come on, man. You told me on the phone you had a lot going on. What is it? Female troubles?" He snickered, as did the other guys.
Sy looked into his glass, through the foam and into the honey liquid below it with a rueful grin. "In a sense."
He took a huge drink of the beer, five gulps, nearly emptying it, fortifying himself to speak.
"My girlfriend is missing." Everyone froze in position as they processed this.
Half a dozen questions hit his ears at once. Which he could have handled if he hadn't had almost a full pitcher by himself.
He shut them down, and began to tell them the story of how he met Shane and their sort of whirlwind romance. He paused for a moment to pour himself another beer.
"Never heard you talk about a woman like that, Sy." His friend Chad piped up.
"Never felt this way before, man. She's…she's the one."
"You said she was missing, though?" Nate asked, brow furrowed in concern.
Sy continued, talking about their argument, reconciliation, and then his leaving for training, ending his briefing with the phone call he got from Shane's boss.
"That's fucked up, man." Matt said. "What are you gonna do about it?" His worry seemed genuine, as well, as if he was putting himself in Sy's shoes. Sy assumed because he had been in love with Tonya, his now fiancé since they were in high school, even though she didn't come around on him until he came home on leave one holiday weekend.
"I've already gone to the police with my statement and an idea for a prime suspect."
"You think she was kidnapped?" Brad Randall, who was a Sergeant for the Rolla Police Department, inquired.
"I personally have no doubts that she was kidnapped, and I am a hun'ert percent certain it was her shithead ex."
"And you don't think she's just…ghosted you?" Brad prompted. The thought put a painful tightness in Sy's chest, but it passed quickly. He knew she wouldn't do that. And not just to him.
"No way, man. She left her phone. She didn't tell work. She didn't even tell her parents. Shane takes her phone with her from room to room. She's glued to it. She'd never do that to her coworkers, who are practically family, and she'd certainly tell her parents if she was going to leave town for any amount of time. It's just…not her. I know her."
"And who's this ex? What's his deal? Why is he on the short list of suspects?"
"He IS the list, Brad. He was abusive when they were together. And a cheater. And a liar. And he tried to jump me right outside just a few weeks back. Ask Candace. She was behind the bar when he started getting in Shane's face up there. And I'd bet she saw what happened out in the parking lot, too." He gestured to the sporty blonde bartender with a high ponytail and a Cardinal's jersey when he mentioned her, and then pointed toward the windows looking out onto the dozen or more vehicles parked outside.
"Can we do anything?" Kevin asked, clamping a hand on Sy's shoulder.
"Nothin'. But I appreciate the offer, brother." And he returned the contact with a clap to the other man's shoulder.
Nate and Brad exchanged pointed looks, and Nate countered Sy's rejection.
"I wouldn't say THAT, Sy."
"What do you mean?" Sy looked at Nate as if he was pedaling snake oil…or Jake's supplements.
"I think…that we CAN do something. To help you find Shane."
"We all have military experience, and some of us have connections that could be very useful." Added Brad. "I'm on the Force. I can handle getting intel on the guy."
"I'm in to help with transpo." Matt Styles raised his hand to offer up the vehicles in his transportation service, Rydes with Styles. Sy hated when words were misspelled for the sake of gimmicks…but he had to give Matt credit for that one.
"And Travis and I still work at the base. We can arrange gear." Jake added as Travis nodded.
"And whatever else you need, I'm in too." Kevin concluded.
"No way, guys. You can't stick your necks out for me like that. I won't have it."
"Sy…You know I talked to Lopez after that last mission the two of you were on?" Travis met Sy's eye as he spoke. "He said you had your team carry out Kominski's body. And that you took on most of, and then all of his bodyweight, just so Freeman could cover everyone. Said you were hurt, yourself, but helped him, carried him, to your extraction point. Up several flights of stairs."
Sy had no response other than a blank stare. It seemed to say all it needed to, because Travis continued.
"Lopez is alive and the Kominski girls got to say a proper goodbye to David. Plus, that mission WAS a success because you got the target. I know it's still classified, but…I think we all know the significance of what you did by leading that mission. You didn't leave a man, living or dead, behind."
"And we aren't gonna let your girl get left behind, either. We're gonna take that sonofabitch out. Because what do we do?" Nate declared, ending with the call Sy had always used at the end of his mission briefs.
The whole table, including a reluctant Sy, recited “We embrace the darkness and the suffering.”
“And why do we do it?” Nate continued.
“So that our fellow man is free to live in peace." Sy looked around the table at all of these men he had served with, fought with, watched comrades fall with, and fought against tyranny with. He thought most of them could have come up with their own story about his role in their military time, but the mission Travis was talking about outlined what he figured was the most significant sacrifice he had ever made for a teammate.
"Well…I guess we need to come up with a plan, then." Sy smiled and finished off the beer in his glass before laying it out for the others.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sy had given them all missions tailored to their own strengths and connections. Brad would gather all the info he could on Elliott. Matt would reserve vehicles. Jake and Travis would procure tactical gear for the team, and Nate…Nate would provide weapons. Pistols and blades. Ammo. Holsters. Even flash grenades and smoke bombs.
Cade's was too public to talk about their plans, so Sy told everyone to rendezvous at his house the very next afternoon. They sat around the patio table on his back deck while they waited for everyone to arrive. Jake was late.
"Well, I guess 'direct sales' waits for no man, and we can't wait for Ryburn anymore. Styles, report?" Sy commenced the meeting.
"I have three Suburbans that are only a couple years old. They're black, discreet, and all glass is tinted within an inch of it's life. Even the license plate covers. I'll make sure they're fueled and ready." Matt stated.
"Aces. Richardson?" Travis spoke up next.
"Yeah, Jake had to go in for a late shift last night after we met, but I talked to him. He's gonna get vests for everyone, eyewear, comms, the whole works. All rated for Black Ops. He told me a bit ago he was following up on a lead and was hoping it would pan out. Said he had a hunch." Travis shrugged, not certain what his friend was up to, but not that concerned.
"Sounds good. Randall?"
"I made up some dossiers for everyone that includes everything I could find on Thomas. He doesn't have a ton of priors. Mostly drunk and disorderly's that were thrown out, because he got the right representation and the wrong judge. He must have someone backing him, because I have no job on file for him. No employer has run a background on him in ten years. Last known address is from six years ago, when he filed a change of address from an apartment in the Cottage Hills complex to…407 Oak Street."
"That's Shane's address." Sy interjected. "He must not have changed it since she kicked him out."
"It seems so. But it's so weird. I don't see any credit cards, online orders, not even a Netflix account on the guy. He's totally fallen off the grid since Shane. I did get into some social media accounts, but he hasn't posted to anything in the last 18 months."
"Really?"
"Yeah, he was posting hot and heavy about this girl, Kara Hutch. 37. Lives over in Waynesville. But his last Facebook status just says, 'What a waste.' and 'feeling betrayed' and that was in February of last year."
"Hmm, do you think--" Sy was interrupted by the unexpectedly loud and abrupt sound of his front door flying open and Aika, with them on the deck, barking like they were about to be murdered. She was ready to kill whatever came through next. The men, all of them battle hardened veterans sporting conceal and carry permits, were out of their seats and in defensive stances in a fraction of a second. Aiming at an unseen enemy. A figure approached in the shadow of Sy's kitchen, arms raised and slowing as it saw several barrels aimed for its head and chest.
"Woah, woah, woah, guys it's me! It's Jake! Stand down!"
"Are you FUCKING INSANE, Corporal!?" Sy asked, reverting to Captain mode. "You just snuck up on and burst in on a group of soldiers. Do you comprehend how close you came to looking more like Swiss Cheese than a man, Ryburn?!" Sy scolded, fire in him rising, but more out of an angry concern for the friend they nearly shot.
"Sorry, sir, err, Sy. I was focused on getting here for my report." Jake said, out of breath.
"Travis already told us about the gear, Ryburn. You didn't need to bust in like that." Nate berated.
"Oh, guys. What I've got is way better than night vision devices. I might have an address for our guy."
"How in seven hells did YOU get an address?" Brad exclaimed, pride wounded as intel was his task.
"I know, dude, that was on you, but…I overheard a conversation when I was doing some work on equipment in the Air Traffic Control tower."
"What could you have possibly overheard in ATC?" Sy was incredulous.
"Do you want me to tell you, or would you like to keep screaming at me?"
Sy called Aika off and let Jake onto the deck, but the German Shepherd was still eyeing the corporal with marked skepticism.
"So I kept hearing this controller talking to the other girl at her station. She kept talking about her boyfriend…whose name was Elliott." Eyebrows went up all around the table. "Yeah, and he fit the description in every way. Physical appearance, textbook narcissism, the works. I went to the personnel office when I got done with the service call and told the attendant that the girl had helped me with my gear and I wanted to send her an email to thank her. She gave me a contact sheet on Sasha King. I looked her up on my lunchbreak, and found some photos of her with a guy I think might be Elliott." Jake showed Sy an image he'd saved to his phone. "Is this him?"
"Yup, that's the guy." Sy's blood was boiling again at the smiles on the couple's faces. He didn't deserve happiness. He didn't deserve a pretty girlfriend. He should die alone, starving for the love he deprived others. "You say you got an address?"
"Yeah, the gal in personnel printed me a full demo sheet. The only thing we don't have is a social." Sy noted the redacted 9-digit code in one corner of the document Jake had handed him. He read out loud. 3502 Highway D. St. Robert, MO.
"You boys feel up to a little recon tonight?" They all nodded, excitedly, patting Jake on the back, and high fiving him in congratulations on the invaluable find. Even Brad commended him on his detective skills and told him he'd have a job on the Force with him if he ever wanted a change. The corporal almost blushed.
The men went back into the house and through the front door to the driveway where they were all parked.
"Jake, you brought all the gear, too?"
"Sure did, Sy. There's vests, belts, NVDs and helmets to mount. There's plenty for everyone." Jake opened the back of his Jeep as if it were a buffet of delicious tactical equipment. Sy found among the gear a large case and opened it out of curiosity. A sound amplifier with headphones. That was going with him, as it appeared there was only one.
"I'll outfit everyone with guns and ammo later. But here are some tac knives, and three of each diversionary devices for each member of the team." Nate passed out packs with the blades, smoke grenades, and flash bombs.
"Okay, rendezvous at Matt's shop at 1800. We'll go over some procedures for the evening and get set up with the rest of our weaponry then. Okay?" General nods of ascent and "mmhmms" in confirmation of the plan came from the men. Sy continued, "Maybe get some rest between now and then. I don't know how long this is going to take."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sy got to Matt's a little early. 1730. Nate showed up about ten minutes later and pulled in next to Sy, leaving the rear doors accessible to arm the team. The men got out of their vehicles and began double checking Nate's inventory.
"Nervous?" Nate said after exchanging the usual pleasantries.
"I didn't think I was. But just now, I got to thinking about what that…monster is doing to the love of my life. What he's putting her through, if he's even let her live. What are we going to come across when we get to this place?"
"You can't think like that. She's not Schrödinger's cat. You have to be positive here. This mission depends on your strength as a leader. You're gonna do great. And Shane is gonna be fine. We all will. Have a little faith, man." Nate patted Sy on the back in encouragement. Sy appreciated it. But he thought he might have to compartmentalize, instead. Think of this as just another mission. Forget that Shane was involved. Even if it wasn't healthy, it might at least be helpful.
Matt arrived soon after and waved at the two men as he pulled in on the other side of Nate. He got out and greeted his friends, all of them shooting the breeze and enfolding the others into the conversation as they got there. Kevin was the last to arrive, just before 1800, when the briefing commenced.
"So," Sy began, more timidly than was his usual way. "First, guys, I wanna say, I appreciate y'all so much for doing this. For putting in the time and the resources to help me and Shane. I owe y'all more than I can repay, but that doesn't mean I won't try. Within reason." He grinned and his friends chuckled.
"Now, we've got the comms set up. We'll be in each other's ears, so we can report in real time. I've looked up an aerial view of the farm on Google Earth, and there should be good cover for surveillance with the sound equipment and NVDs. I'll take point, Nate, you and Matt are with me. Kevin, you and Brad will flank the property on the left, Travis and Jake are going right. I'm hoping this will just be recon, but if I get wind of something I don't like, I may call for the strike. You guys will report anything you think looks fishy, and I will make that call with the intel I'm given. Now. When and if I make that call, we're gonna aim for disorientation and soft incapacitation. If you don't have to kill, don't. I don't know how much help this bastard has, but I know it would have taken several to take down Shane. It's not that I think any of them deserve to be spared, but…I don't want us to break up any families. We don't need the weight on our already heavy souls." War had changed them all, and Sy didn't want to make any more widows. "We good?"
Nods of approval from the men made Sy think he was looking at a military bobble head collection. He stifled a smile.
"Alright, lets get armed and ready, then Matt can take us to our chariots."
They were all mostly suited up, black or dark colors were the general uniform. They were ready for whatever might happen. As Nate handed out guns and ammo, the men examined their clips, loaded their guns, and put them in their holsters until needed…they hoped they wouldn't be.
When they were all set, they followed Matt to the huge garage he kept his fleet in.
Although, "garage" didn't quite do the building justice. It was actually an airplane hangar that Matt got for a good price when the local airline went under. He'd made a loft in it with a ramp so there was extra room for smaller vehicles like his town cars. The limos, SUVs, and the stretch Hummer were on the lower level. He had a separate space outside for the two party busses and the RV, protected from the elements by large carports.
Matt went to grab keys from the lock box as the men gathered near the Suburbans. Sy was getting angsty. Moment of truth was here.
"Okay," Matt jingled two sets of keys in his hands. "Who's driving?"
Kevin deferred to Brad without contest, but Jake and Travis were bickering over the question between them.
"Grow up or get married already." Sy chided. "Jake, you got the good intel for us yesterday. You drive."
Travis was mildly crestfallen, but Jake was stoked and he caught the keyring Matt tossed him.
"You wanna drive, Captain?" Matt offered Sy the last set of keys.
"No, Matt. You're driving our group. I'll take shotgun though."
And the seven men got into the vehicles as if they were mounting horses, headed into the sunset.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Over the comms on the way, Sy addressed the team. "Okay, there's a large outbuilding near the road, guys. Pull off the driveway and park behind that structure. Hopefully they'll hide the vehicles from the main house. Bravo and Charlie teams, you let Alpha team get in place before you take your positions."
"Roger that, Captain." Kevin said in the headset.
"We copy." Travis answered for himself and Jake.
The first phase of the mission went perfectly. Sy, Nate, and Matt were in position, and Sy had set up the sound amplifier, aiming it at the house, headphones on. When the other teams were in position, Matt reported to Sy, since he was getting feedback using the earpiece and the headphones for the amp at the same time.
"Bravo and Charlie teams are in place, Captain."
"Great. Sit Rep?"
"All's quiet so far. Wait. Headlights coming up the drive." Each team tried to make themselves as small and low as possible so as not to draw attention to their presence. Sy had been getting nothing but crime show drivel from the TV in the house since he got here.
A petite but curvy brunette got out of the white Honda Civic and stomped into the house.
"Hey babe." Elliott's unmistakable voice rang in Sy's ear. And he was filled to bursting with rage all over again.
"What the fuck, Elliott? I've been trying to call you for hours! What the hell have you been doing?"
"Oh, I was charging my phone in the bedroom. What's going on?"
"That Captain Syverson your little pet was banging? I found out today that he's back in town. Has been for a few days."
"Shit. Shit!!! SHIT!!!"
"Yeah, so…if he isn't already, it won't be long before he starts trying to find her."
"But…how could he? Even if he thought it was me, I have no official ties to this place, or even you!"
"Flattering."
"You know what I mean."
"Whatever, but I'd get rid of her ASAP. This guy is NOT someone you wanna piss off, Elliott."
"I'll bring the guys in. We'll take care of it. Tonight."
Sy cussed in a loud whisper. He wanted to rip Elliott apart with his bare hands. Nate asked him what was wrong, but Sy held up a hand for him to remain quiet because he heard the scumbag inside on the phone.
"Yeah, it's me. Listen, change of plans, we need to do this tonight. Get everyone out here. Yes, immediately. There's a…potential complication. We need to take care of her before it becomes more. Yeah, she's weak, but I'm still gonna wait until you guys get here. She's still got some fight in her. She about took Jackson's eye out yesterday when he was  down there. He's got some wicked scratches on his face. I think he made her regret it, though." Elliott laughed with evil mirth. Sy was furious. He reckoned God Himself might have a time pulling him off that degenerate before he made him unrecognizable as a human man. Once he started punching him, he might not be able to stop.
When Elliott signed off, Sy pulled the earphones down onto his neck. He looked at Matt and Nate.
"He's planning something with Shane and has called in reinforcements. It sounds like he means to take her somewhere else, and it didn't sound like it was gonna be pretty. I think we need to go in now."
"Shit. Okay." Matt responded. Sy put his earpiece in and called on the rest of the team.
"Bravo and Charlie, do you copy?"
"Bravo copies." Kevin reported back.
"Charlie copies. Go ahead, Alpha." Travis cleared.
"Listen, boys. We need to go in, and we need to make it quick. Here’s the situation. We have one male and one female assailant inside the domicile, and an undetermined number of additional combatants en route to reinforce the enemy's line. We have one target. A female prisoner, presumably in the basement, given verbiage used in the communication I intercepted. Alpha team will make our priority extraction. Bravo, you will subdue the male assailant and then maintain sentry position on the lookout for more unfriendlies. Charlie team, you will clear the second level of the house and subdue the female combatant. She is a soldier, so proceed with extreme caution. Once the area is secure, drivers, go and retrieve the vehicles. We are gonna need to get out of here quick, or else things might go tits up. I'm concerned we'll lose the advantage of numbers if we wait too long. Are we clear?"
"Copy that, Alpha leader."
"Roger. On your count, cap."
Sy took a deep breath. Thought to himself "Shane. I'm on my way, baby!" He saw red, then. And called for the charge, out of the darkness, and into the farmhouse. To an uncertain outcome.
Up Next: Chapter 17-Gait Training
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ithinkilikeit-reactions · 5 years ago
Text
Music Store Romance (Kim Hongjoong/Smut)
A/N: This was inspired by his Purple Rain cover and the fact that Hongjoong is a music lover in it’s finest form. Also this jumps around a lot because my brain jumped around a lot while I writing it. I apologize. 
REMEMBER FEEDBACK IS KIND
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tags: Highschool au! because that’s all i can write apparently, loner au!, friends to lovers?? Switch! Hongjoong, Switch! reader. I don’t think Hongjoong’s parents are like this obviously but for stories sake
Word count:  5550 
The music store was a dingey, old place. Filled practically from floor to ceiling with records, cds and tapes, it had everything you could imagine. It was a little escape for music lovers and it was your home, quite literally. Your family lived above the store and owned it. It was only natural that you had a love for music, it was only natural that you worked there. 
When you weren’t at school, you were at the store and you had 0 problems with it. The amount of interesting people you met there was worth the hours you made in a day. 
Today was no different, your classes had ended and you were back in the store sorting through some records. Things were always being mixed up and with the amount of music the store had and secondhand records were flying around, it was easy to get things mixed up. Today you were the only one working and the only one in the store in general. 
You turned the speakers up, some random record playing some soft rock. It was your random choice of the day, only to be disturbed by the bell above the door ringing. Looking up from your pile, your eyes met very familiar ones coupled with a head of silver hair. 
Hongjoong wasn’t someone you expected to see outside of class, well at least not in your store. He was quiet, the type to always sit in the back of the class and hardly ever said a word. People kept their distance from him, not because he was scary but because he didn’t seem open to it and made it known by facial expressions alone. You two had never really crossed paths and you weren’t really expecting you. 
“Hi, if I can help you with anything let me know.” You simply said, putting your shop voice on. You weren’t going to go out of your way to make small talk. “Oh, thanks.” He said and paused in front of your counter where you stood. “Do we go to school together?” He asked and you looked back up, eyes locking once more. Nodding, you smiled softly. You never really looked at Hongjoong before, sure you had seen him but you never really looked. He had smooth skin in a nice shade, silver hair cut messily to just fall into his bright eyes. 
“Oh cool.” He said and nodded a little before walking further into the store. He was very unbothered by the exchange but you were left kind of breathless, you never knew he was so pretty. 
You moved to the record player, changing out the record because you were tired of the repetitive rock beat in the store. As you were flipping through your selection and deciding what to listen to, a record was being pushed over the counter. “Try that, it’s relaxing and has good vibe for background music.” Hongjoong said with a smile. “Oh okay.” You said and looked at it. It was a jazz record, mainly instrumental and not anything you had heard of before. 
“Interesting choice, didn’t take you for a jazz person.” You said, putting the music on and adjusting the volume. Hongjoong was leaning against the counter, flipping through the flyers for random events on it. “I listen to anything, as long as it sounds good.” He said, looking at you. “I’ve never seen you here before, did you just start working here?” He asked and you laughed. “I’m always here, after school, before school. Always. You must come in after dinner because that’s the only time I’m not here.” You said and ran your finger’s through your hair. 
“Hey Y/N? Can you come catalogue these albums?” Your dad asked, coming down the stairs from your house and into the store. “Ah, Hongjoong! You haven’t come in for a while.” Your father said and went to hug you school mate. You were incredibly confused, it seemed your father knew him better than you did. “Haven’t really had money to spend, sir.” Hongjoong answered with an apologetic smile, something you took note of. 
Hongjoong loved the old music store, it was a little haven for him, a hidden gem. The owner’s were kind and music lovers, people he could have a good conversation with. It was his place. 
“You know you’re always welcome to just come in and listen to stuff.” Your dad said and moved behind the counter with you. “You two know eachother?” Your father asked and you blinked at Hongjoong for a moment. “Yeah we go to school together.” He said and your dad smiled widely. “I’m gonna go catalogue those albums.” You said and left your father and Hongjoong to talk. 
Hongjoong watched you walk away to  the back of the store, you seemed close to the owner and it really amazed him how he never saw you here before. Especially considering how often he was there. 
“Hope my daughter doesn’t give you too hard of a time at school.” Your father said and Hongjoong smiled, that’s why you were so close to him. “No, she’s always nice.” Hongjoong lied, not wanting to throw you under the bus. It wasn’t that you were mean, no one was mean to Hongjoong. But no one really spoke to him either. But that wasn’t anything your father needed to know. 
“That’s a relief. Something on your mind son?” He asked and Hongjoong blinked slightly. There was a lot on his mind, all the time. Hongjoong was strapped for cash, on the verge of being kicked out of his house and he was lonely. “No, just thinking. Do you guys have any jobs available?” Hongjoong asked quickly and your father smiled. He needed money and he loved this place, it wasn’t a problem. “Always, especially for someone with the knowledge you have.” Your father said, leaving Hongjoong smiling. 
-
The next day, you headed home after class. You didn’t notice that someone was following you because of your headphones, but when their shadow caught up to you, you couldn’t help but turn around. Your school skirt lifting with the wind slightly as you did so. 
“Hongjoong?” You asked, the familiar silver head of hair a few feet behind you. “Yeah.” He said and you stood, crossing your arms. “Are you following me home?” Your words came out with a pout and Hongjoong laughed. It took him a few more moments to reach where you stood and he took a breath. 
“Don’t flatter yourself too much. Your dad hired me yesterday.” He explained and you scrunched up your face. Surely your father would have mentioned it over dinner. “Really?” You asked, your voice sounding almost disappointed even though you didn’t mean it to be. “Wow, try not to sound too disappointed.” Hongjoong said and brushed past you. “I didn’t mean it like that, dad just didn’t tell me.” You turned and caught up with him again. 
“I’m glad I actually have a coworker that isn’t my mom or dad.” You said happily. You never meant to make anyone feel bad on purpose. Your words were met with silence and you decided to just keep your mouth shut the rest of the walk home. 
Hongjoong knew people didn’t particularly enjoy being around him, he never understood why. He really tried his best but it just really seemed that way. 
“I’m sorry Hongjoong, I didn’t mean it like that really.” You said as you stood infront of the entrance to the store. He blinked at you, his eyelashes batting slightly and you swallowed thickly. Why was he making you feel this way with just a look. 
“It’s alright. I guess I’m just to people not liking me.” He said and held the door open for you. His words hurt you. Did you do something in the past to make him think you didn’t like him? You didn’t know anything about him, how could you not like him. You stopped and looked at him again. “How can I not like you, I don’t know anything about you?” You asked and he looked to the floor. “You’re right, i’m sorry.” He apologized and his eyes met yours again. 
“Clean start?” You asked, avoiding his gaze slightly. “Clean start... Now where do i get started boss?” He asked with a huge smile. “Boss, I like the sound of that.” You said and moved past him to move behind the counter. Hongjoong looked at you with expecting eyes and you were doing everything to avoid eye contact. You didn’t like the feelings that were bubbling up in your stomach every time he looked at you. The butterflies were too intense. 
He felt bad about judging you so fast and the way you thought about him. But once you get used to something it was hard to let things go. It was something he wanted to learn, something he needed to learn. 
You taught him well, his first day at the music store and he was almost dreading going home. Hongjoong found himself watching you, your little mannerisms and the way you tackled certain tasks really appealed to him. He didn’t particularly understand why. But he was still taking a minute to get comfortable with you.
-
It took about a month for you and Hongjoong to start talking, like really talking. Not about music or about things having to do with the store, but like friends. Your days at work had become something you looked forward to quite a bit, but at school he still seemed to keep his distance. Nodding his head at you, but then going to sit somewhere else. It was disheartening, made you wonder if he even liked you. 
Looking at him from across the store, you fumbled with the cassette tapes that were all mixed up due to kids messing around with them. Hongjoong heard them falling to the floor and looked at you as you shook your head and bent over to pick them up. “You alright, Y/N?” He asked and you popped back up from the floor. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking about stuff.” You answered, shaking off your thoughts as you finished organizing. 
“You sure, you seem... out of it.” He pressed on and you smiled. Hongjoong was watching you intently, worried about you. “We’re friends you know, you can talk to me.” He said and your eyes went wide. “So we are friends? I wasn’t sure.” You asked and moved over to the counter to take a sip of water. It was a very slow day. 
“That was the problem?” He asked, wide eyes staring at you. “I mean kinda, I wasn’t sure if we were.” You pouted, fumbling with the papers on the counter. “Like we never really talk at school. I thought we would considering how much we talk here. So I guess I thought you didn’t want to spend more time with me than you had too.” You added on, avoiding eye contact and looking down at your hands. 
Hongjoong grabbed your hand, his thumb drawing circles in your palm. It caught you off guard but it was comforting in a weird way. “I didn’t know that you wanted that. I mean we spend so much time together here, that I thought you might want a break from my company.” He explained and you finally looked back up at him. Your expression was soft, your eyes sparkling in the natural light and Hongjoong felt himself swallow thickly. You were so kind to him. 
“Well, believe it or not but I actually enjoy your company a lot.” You told him and squeezed his hand. It didn’t help that the song playing in the shop was a sickly sweet song. “Let’s hang out more, in class and stuff. I’d really like it.” You said and he nodded. “I’d like it too.” Hongjoong said, his hand letting go of yours. 
The next week it surprised you as you ate your lunch, feeling someone scoot next to you. Your friends looked surprised at the sudden intruder on their lunch and you couldn’t help but smile feeling the leather from his jacket brush against your arms. “Hey.” He said with a bright smile. “Hey.” You said back, exchanging looks with your friends to let them know this was okay. “Guys, this is Hongjoong. We work together at my parent’s shop.” You said and they all nodded in understanding and introduced themselves. “This is something I could get used too.” You thought to yourself, hearing your friends talking and laughing. You looked at Hongjoong and watched him engage with the others. It made you feel warm. 
“What made you get so into music?” You asked, the broom in your hand as you swept up the shop. Normally your father would do this, this late. But since you got a coworker who would be with you at night, he felt he could let you do it without too much worry. 
Hongjoong stopped sweeping his side of the room and leaned against his broom. “Uhh, I don’t know. Music’s just always been there. It’s so different.” He paused and looked at you as he answered. “All music is just so different. You can say so much, with no words or say a lot with words. Music helps you feel. It helps you feel understood, it helps you understand others.” He talked about it as if it was his first love, you were almost jealous. “Music helps me forget about the things that aren’t right in my life.” He added on, shrugging and continuing to sweep. 
“My parents aren’t the happiest with me. I feel like I’m going to be kicked out soon.” He said quietly, barely audible over the music in the store. Your heart shattered, his words stunned you so bad that the broom dropped out of your hands. “I’m sorry Hongjoong. I wish i could help.” You said and picked the broom up again. 
“You help me alot, you just don’t know it. This place and working here is the closest to happy I’ve been. You’ve helped a lot.” He said quietly and your cheeks turned bright red. You turned away from him, acting like you were sweeping a different part of the floor. Only you didn’t want him to see the effect he had on you. “That’s really sweet Hongjoong.” You said and a new song started up over the speakers. 
“Oh I love this song.” Hongjoong said and you heard him approach you with the broom. He tapped your shoulder, making you turn to look at him. He noticed the blush on your cheeks, thinking it was insanely cute especially when he grabbed your hand. “Dance with me?” He asked, pulling you into his chest. Your cheeks were completely flushed now and your hand was on his chest as you laughed. “Okay.” You said, trying to hide your face in his neck while giggling. 
The song was upbeat, filled with trumpets and it was a song obviously from the 50′s. Spinning you, he pulled you back into his chest and smiled. He couldn’t help but be happy, you looked so beautiful. Laughing as you stumbled slightly, he held you up. “Woah there.” He said, steadying you by holding onto your waist. The song was close to being over, but he decided to spin you again because he loved the laugh that came out of you when he did. 
“You’re so cute.” He said as he pulled you into his chest again. “No you are.” You said and let him go,  the song being over. Hongjoong leaned against the rack and watched as you tucked your hair behind your ear. That might have been one of the moments you’d remember the rest of your life. It was one of the sweetest moments in your life. 
You both sat, looking at eachother for a moment before he moved to grab the brooms. “Let’s finish this and lock up.” He interupted the silence, knowing that the night needed to end even though he didn’t want it to. 
Hongjoong was really growing to love you, though he wasn’t fully aware of that at the time. He was greatfull for you, you helped him and made him feel better. 
Though that good feeling he went home with didn’t last long. He was greeted with a shouting match from his parents and before he knew it, Hongjoong was outside with all of his things in bags. He felt it coming, he just wasn’t anticipating it happening so fast. He just wanted to go back in time, a few hours earlier where he was dancing with you and laughing. 
You were still sat in the shop, talking with your father and mother about some odd people that were an out during the week. Your parents couldn’t help but laugh at some of their regulars. The music business in every way was an odd one. 
It was already quite late, 10 p.m you read as you yawned. You were all about to turn the lights off in the store and go upstairs when a knock on the door stopped you. “Is that Hongjoong?” Your dad asked, quickly moving to go unlock the door. He had 3 bags with him, he looked distraught and seemed like he had been crying. To say you were worried was an understatement. 
“Hongjoong, what are you doing here?” Your mother asked, looking him over slightly to see if he was physically okay. You stood behind them, your arms crossed as you watched him drop his bags in the shop. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know where else to go. I can leave I shouldn’t have come.” He said moving to grab his things again. He had instant guilt the second he entered the shop, before it seemed like a good idea. “No, no what happened?” Your mother asked and it looked like he was about to break down. 
Hongjoong looked at you, blinking back tears and then started to explain what happened. “Alright, I will sort things out in the morning. You’re staying here for tonight.” Your father said and picked up Hongjoong’s things. “Come on upstairs.” Your mother added on and your parents disappeared into your house with his things. Hongjoong was frozen, just standing there and looking at the floor. You looked towards the stairs, before looking at him again. 
You didn’t need to think twice before going and hugging him, pulling him into you tightly. It caught Hongjoong off guard but he totally wasn’t against it. The physical contact was everything he needed. Wrapping his arms around you he tucked his face into your neck. The hug was so intimate, comforting in every way and incredibly long. Your arms wrapped around his neck, petting his hair lightly. This was how you comforted all of your friends. Hongjoong’s arms wrapped around your waist and took a deep breath. 
“I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have showed up like this.” He said into your neck, the vibrations from his words tickling your neck. “It’s okay, it really is.” You said, still petting his hair. Your pulled away, making him look at you and grabbed his hand. “Let’s go upstairs yeah?” 
Hongjoong almost felt like he was intruding as he walked up the stairs straight into your living room. Your mom was getting the couch ready and all of Hongjoong’s bags were on the floor next to it. “Uhm, mom. I’ll take the couch. Hongjoong can have my room for the night.” You said, feeling like Hongjoong could use the comfort of a bed and not a couch. Hongjoong’s hand gripped yours even tighter at your words. “No, no I’ll take the couch.” Hongjoong argued with you and you sighed. “Take my bed, Hongjoong. For me.” You told him and he looked down to the floor. 
He felt like such a burden, especially as he sat on the foot of your bed. Looking around your room, he took it all in. This was exactly what he expected your room to look like. Fairy lights hanging on the ceiling, a stack of records on the floor next to an old record player and pictures of you and your friends hanging around the room. Hongjoong tucked his head into his hands and rubbed his face, he needed comfort. 
You were about to walk into your room to grab pajamas when your mother grabbed your arm. “Are you sure you’re comfortable having him in your room?Not that I don’t trust him, it’s just you’re my kid first.” She asked and you smiled, your parents always worried about you. “I know him, I trust him.” You said and she nodded. “Alright then. If you need us you know where we are.” She said and left to go to bed. 
“Hey, can I come in? I need to grab some clothes.” You asked through the door and you could hear his small “Come in.” You opened the door slowly and smiled at him. He was sat on you bed, staring at your walls. “You’re allowed to move you know.” You said and he smiled weakly. “I know.” He mumbled and you bit your bottom lip. Moving to sit next to him, you grabbed his hand and let your thumb draw shapes on the skin. It was something he had done for you before. 
“I feel like a burden, on everyone at this point.” He said, breaking the silence. “I don’t know what to do.” He added and you squeezed his hand. Your other hand moved up to his chin, you needed him to look at you. “You’re not a burden. We’ll figure things out and it’ll be okay.” You said and Hongjoong couldn’t help but let his eyes flicker down to your lips. Your fingers traced his jaw lightly before pulling it away. “You know, the happiest I’ve been in a while was today. Dancing with you and laughing. You really make me happy.” He said and cracked a genuine smile for the first time since he entered your house. His words made your chest fill with warmth and as you tried to look away. 
Hongjoong’s hand mimicked your earlier actions, making you look at him again. His face a lot closer to yours and you could feel his breath on your skin. “C-Can I kiss you?” He stuttered, you weren’t expecting the question. It made him even more endearing. You nodded and your eyes fluttered shut the second his lips touched yours. 
They were soft and gentle against yours as his hands moved to cup your face. It was a soft sweet kiss, that was too short for your liking as he pulled away. He watched your reaction before moving your hair out of your face. “Can I kiss you again?” He asked and you couldn’t help but laugh a little. Your hand moved to his shirt, pulling his lips against yours a little harder this time and you could feel him smile. You nipped at his bottom lip lightly, the grip on his shirt releasing to lay flat on his chest. 
“You really don’t have to ask.” You said as your forehead pressed to his and his arms wrapped around your waist. “Can you kiss me again then?” He asked with a cheeky smirk and you leaned forward. Pushing him back onto your bed, Hongjoong’s arms locked around you pulling you with him and you connected your lips.  The kiss escalated quite quickly, his teeth grazing over your bottom lip as he gained more confidence. You hummed against his lips, adjusting the way you sat to straddle his hips. 
You sat up, looking down at him as your hand still rested on his chest. Hongjoong propped himself up on his elbows and watched you as you caught your breath. He was always watching you, he couldn’t help himself. It was something he caught himself doing at work, watching the way you fumbled through cds or the way you pinned your hair back and your little mannerisms. He never understood why, but seeing you like this with the weight of your body resting on him comfortably made him realise why. 
“I don’t think I ever want to stop kissing you.” he said and pulled you back down against his lips. You both couldn’t help but laugh, your actions were so rushed. Very much the typical horny teenagers and you both were giving in to it. 
Hongjoong’s tongue slipped into your mouth and your hips rolled over his, making him buck against you. You let out a moan at the feeling and smiled feeling his hands travel lower, now resting at your hips and squeezing lightly. You rolled your hips again and he pulled away from your lips to throw his head back, moaning softly. It was a beautiful sound, soft and breathy, making you want to hear more. 
Your lips moved to his jaw, kissing down lightly and sucking on his neck.You were being gentle, not wanting to overstep your boundaries and Hongjoong could sense that. “You want this, right?” He asked, hands cupping your face to make you look at him. “I do, do you?” You questioned in return and he smiled. “I definitely do. I just wanted to be sure.” He said and flipped you both over. Scooting you towards the middle of the bed again, Hongjoong’s fingers gripped at your waist. He was sitting up, between your legs and taking a second to look at you. The way your hair splayed over your pillow, the way your work shirt had ridden up slightly and the way you chewed your bottom lip in anticipation. 
Placing your hands on the hem of his shirt, you pulled it up slightly. Hongjoong got the hint with a little laugh before tugging his shirt off over his head, thought it got caught on his earrings making him laugh with embarrassment. You sat up slightly, helping him pull it off of his head and quickly cupped his cheeks afterwards. “You’re really beautiful, Kim Hongjoong.” You said, meaning every word as you looked him in the eyes. You placed a swift kiss on his lips before quickly taking your work shirt off, tossing it on the floor of your room. 
Your fingers threaded through his hair as you felt his lips attach to your neck and his own danced over your bare stomach. He didn’t want to leave marks, knowing your parents would see them in the morning so he left the kisses light. His hand moved up, sliding underneath your bra gently to squeeze your boob lightly. You couldn’t help but find the way he was being so gentle incredibly endearing. 
Hongjoong kissed down your chest, the kisses becoming a bit harsher as he nipped at your skin. He reached around you undoing the confining item of clothing, pulling it down your arms and throwing it the same direction of your shirt. His mouth latched onto your nipple, sucking softly and watching you. Your fingers were still in his hair and you tugged on the strands as he bit down on your skin. “Hongjoong~” You hummed and pulled him off of you. His lips were slightly swollen and his eyes were darker than usual. 
He moved back up and pressed his lips to yours. His chest fully against yours and he loved it. The feeling of you against him like that was maybe one of his favorites. 
But that feeling left as you slid out from under him and moved to sit up. Your fingers undoing his jeans swiftly, you had a determined look on your face and well you were. You wanted to make him feel good. 
Hongjoong moved so that he was sat on the edge of the bed. Swallowing thickly as you settled between his legs, you locked eyes with him as you tugged his jeans and boxers off with them. Your hands moved up his thighs before grabbing his cock gently. He let out a deep breath, scared to lose eye contact with you as you took him between your lips. Bobbing your head slowly you took him down as far as you were comfortable before moving back up, your tongue tracing the underside of him. 
He was trying his best not to make too much noise, knowing your parents were just down the hall. But he couldn’t help himself too much, clamping his palm over his mouth as the other tangled in your hair. Guiding you up and down, but not forcing you to take any more than what you could. You could feel his muscles tense under your fingers and he tugged your hair a little harder than before, pulling you off of him. 
“I- uh- not yet.” He stuttered as you stood up, his hand releasing your hair. You stood in front of him for a second, before his hand moved to pull you closer by your jeans. He undid them and you helped him, tugging them down your legs. Stepping out of them, Hongjoong wrapped his arms around you and pulled you back into his lap. 
“Do you have a condom?” He asked as your hands held the back of his neck. “Right.” You said with a small laugh, before leaning over to your nightstand and opening the drawer. He watched you, kissing your bare shoulder as you grabbed a condom. You were a blushing mess fumbling around in your drawer and he was being just so sweet. “Relax.” He whispered, his fingers drawing shapes on your skin. 
You grabbed the packet, finally being able to find it in your drawer and handed it to him. You held his shoulders as he let you go, rolling the condom on and holding your hips again. 
You slowly sank down on to him and he stopped you. “I know you said, that I don’t have to ask. But I’m doing it anyways. Are you sure you want to do this?” Hongjoong asked and you kissed him softly. “I’m very sure.” You added on after, playing with the hair on the back of his neck. He lined himself at your entrance and you started sinking down slowly. One of Hongjoong’s hands held your hip and the other your cheek, his eyes watching your expression as you took him. 
You stilled as you took him all the way, your eyes fluttering shut and your forehead pressing into his. “You’re so beautiful.” He mumbled, doing his best to not buck his hips into you. Your hands moved to his shoulders for leverage as you started moving. Soft sighs leaving his mouth as you picked up pace. Hongjoong held you tightly, tucking his face into your neck. 
You let out a loud moan as he hit that sweet spot and you quickly clamped your hand over your mouth. Hongjoong laughed at your actions before bucking his hips, thrusting into you gently and taking over. You kept your hand over your mouth as he took over, hitting that spot repeatedly and you could feel yourself getting close. “Hongjoong, I’m-”  “Me too.” He said, speeding up before moving the hand that cupped that cupped your cheek down. He drew circles over your clit, your moans being almost uncontrollable now and Hongjoong’s sighs getting a little louder. 
“I’m cum- fuck.” You said, tightening around him and pressing your lips to his to keep quiet. Hongjoong’s hips stilled, as you felt him moan against your lips, holding you against him. “I- I. Wow.” He whispered and you smiled, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. 
You played with his hair lightly, before pecking his lips. Hongjoong’s eyes were closed and he was breathing heavily. “You okay?” You whispered, feeling a lot more intimate and quiet than you did before. “I’m perfect right now.” He whispered back and swallowed thickly. “Everything else isn’t but right now I feel perfect, with you.” He added and you moved to lock eyes with him. “We’ll figure everything else out too. I promise.” You reassured him and he blinked at you. 
You moved off of him and sat down on your bed, still fully bare. You watched Hongjoong toss the condom in your trash can and lean down to kiss you. He was feeling, better. He felt like he could handle things now, not because of the sex but because of the reassurance from you. 
“You stay here, sleep in your own bed. I’ll take the couch.” He said, moving to grab his pajama’s from his bag. “I don’t agree.” You said and he looked at you. “How about we both go to the couch, maybe watch a movie or something. I don’t think you want to be alone tonight.” You said and pushed yourself off of your bed. You quickly pulled on your own pj’s and looked at him. 
Hongjoong quickly wrapped his arms around your waist and tucked his face into your neck. “Yeah you’re right.” He said, wondering how you could tell how he was feeling. “I think you’re right about everything else too. We’ll figure it out.” He added on and you nodded. “Hongjoong, I promise you we will.” You said and he looked at you. 
Your eyes locked again and it was something you’d never get tired of. You were watching him and he was watching you and that’s how you both liked it. 
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A/N: I hope you guys like it. Idk if I do. 
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haruno-sakura-san · 4 years ago
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The lies we tell
Sakura centric Drabble with lots of angst!
🌸🌸
Sakura didn't have a lot of things these days, but she supposed that was what peace was supposed to look like. She had work and she had friends. The only thing really left wanting for was a family, but she supposed she had more of that than most people too. She had her mother and father, something her whole team didn't have. Gaara and his siblings didn't have. Something Ino and Shikamaru had half of. So, she couldn't be sorry for that.
The more the days bled by, the worst she felt for wanting. She had a good life, she really did. So why did she burn inside when she saw Ino snuggled up next to Sai in a cafe or Hinata shyly taking Narutos hand on a walk down the street. Usually she'd just look up at the sky and think about Sasuke then. That blue sky was the only thing that connected them now. Was he looking up and thinking or her? Of them.
Sakura scoffed a little. Feeling the fire in her burn hotter. Then guilt billow up her throat, choking her, stinging her eyes.
Stop. It.
Sakura had a good life. She really, really did.
She walked into work, something novel in itself since nowadays she hardly left work. It was her refuge when she felt like this. Stuck.
At least here she had momentum. She could be of use. At least she could still make people smile and fix things in a way she hadn't yet been able to fix him.
After changing into scrubs and throwing in her white coat, the uniform she'd traded for that flack vest and black turtleneck, she went to the break room, desperate to just chat like she did as an apprentice. Or like she had with Ino after the war. Before Sai.
The nurses all gathered there in the break room, gossiping and swapping little tidbits of their lives. Their hopes and plans and troubles, feeding eachother support and indignation in heaping spoonfuls. Sakura was so, so hungry.
She could hear the shrill voices halfway down the hall and felt her mouth water. When had she last spoken with a friend like that? Probably the last time she'd left this office. Or the last time she'd take a break. Months maybe? She can't remember.
But she can't help the bubble of anticipation that rises in her as she swings open the door.
Three nurses are gathered on a couch in the corner, giggling over half empty diet coke cans and granola bars. It had been her idea to only stock diet, a healthy initiative she was quite proud of. She caught the last half of a sentence before it was broken off in mid air as three sets of eyes turn toward her and widened. The kind of wide eyes that Naruto used to give her when she'd caught him doing something foolish and knowing he was about to get cracked over the head.
"-then she sent me home, can you imagine, just for getting my nails done! I think she's really just pissed that she doesn't have anyone to get hers done for, ya know. Sure it's against regulation, but does she really-"
"Dr. Haruno!" One girl cut off the other and stood at attention immediately.
In the defeaning silence that follows, Sakura realizes two things. One - the nurse had been complaining about her. She'd sent her home last week after noticing the nurse's fake press on nails, which were breeding grounds for harmful bacteria, she has dressed a patients still fresh wound. She'd immediately lectured the girl on the uniform code and the dangers her frivolous mistake could pose and sent the girl out to get them removed.
Sakura fights the flush in her cheeks, the burn from before reigniting. Her face hardens to give nothing away.
The second thing is that at some point in time, she'd stopped being one of the girls and become something other. A teacher or parent to scold and yell. A boss that no one liked. Someone to be on their best behavior for.
Sakura can hardly breathe.
"I apologize, Dr. Haruno. We were just finishing up and are heading back to work now." The words come out in a rush, like the woman wants to answer a question Sakura has yet to ask. Eager to get in front of a lecture Sakura never planned to give.
She doesn't know what to say, so Sakura just nods as the women scramble to gather their things and scurry out of the room like mice away from the watchful eyes of a cat. Of something dangerous and hated.
The door shuts with a heavy cha-chunk and Sakura can hear muffled in the hall, "I think she heard you! Oh my god!"
"Oh who cares. Serves her right. She should by now anyway what everyone says - oh Misa-chan," called to a passing nurse probably, "Careful, the witch is out of her tower."
The giggles fade out around a corner. Or maybe just smothered by that gritty, billowing feeling stinging Sakura's eyes again.
Her body moves to sinks onto couch, the heaviness in the air pressing her deep into the still warm cushions. It's pathetic, but for a moment, she closes her eyes and imagines the moment sweet instead of bitter, her welcomed by her co-workers- no, work friends - squishing onto the small couch and complaining about that patient on 5 who just would not stop talking about what they found about their condition on the internet or what happened to her friends, sisters, mother-in-law. She imagined the eye rolls and the scoffs at how annoying that must have been and how they had the same issue with such and such patient last week.
When had she lost that part? When had she become the thing to roll eyes over and swap frustration over?
Sakura clenches her hands together and tries not to cry. She's up and across the room, stalking to her 'tower' with a fowl expression, face screwed up as she holds everything in, lungs rattling in her chest. Only this time, she notices how idle hands become frantic to find tasks as she approaches, and the shared looks of her staff when they think she can't see.
Her office never felt so far away, so removed.
She closes herself inside, the dark warmth of it a relief, and finally breaths out that shakey breath she'd been holding in. Her refuge, just shrunk from the whole building to this tiny, too warm room.
Sakura had a good life. She had a fulfilling job. She had friends - coworkers? Well she had workers. She had parents. She fixed people. She made an impact. She scared her staff. She was a witch?
Suddenly she felt like that same small little girl she was before Ino came along. She presses a palm to her forehead, thinking of bullies and self-loathing and Sasuke. Always Sasuke. She was never so alone than thinking of him.
Sakura had a good life, but she had even better dreams and hopes. The gap in between yawned wider and wider each day, strenching out and out with the passing of time. A giant mouth laughing at her. Pitying her.
In her gut, she just knows that one day, that gap will be too wide and she'll be left behind again, staring at the backs of her friends again.
Even in her office, she doesn't let the tears fall down her cheeks. She smothers the burn inside her, closes herself off to it and stands up tall.
Sakura had a good life. She had a good life. She had a life worth living. Worth dying for. Or why else had all of the last 5 years happened? Why else had she broken herself over and over, gone to the ends of the earth and back for this life? It was valuable. Priceless. A good life.
But none of that could stop the selfish need burning in her heart. She wanted more. Something better, something great. Frivolity. Love. Joy. She need to feed that hungry fire in her something or it would burn her into a husk. She has nothing left to give it so she maintains. She ignores. She lies.
Sakura had a good life.
Those words she swallows are so, so sour.
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musicfeedsmysoul12 · 5 years ago
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Never Find Another Like Me
Summary: Adrien and Marinette break up after two years of dating, both seeing each other as friends. This doesn’t stop some people (Lila) from saying that Marinette cheated on Adrien or that she was using him. All Marinette can reply when the class begins to pull away is that they’ll never find another like her, before she heads off for New York for the summer.
 She’s right.
Pairings: MC/Hades, past Adrinette, Marinette/Cerberus
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Breaking up with Adrien had been hard. It had been really hard. 
 They had started dating when they were sixteen and firmly sick of Lila and all the bullshit. They started dating and it was fun and light and… well, charming.
But that was it.
 Charming, like a fairy tale. But it wasn’t… it wasn’t romantic. Not really.
 It was all the romance of flowers and chocolates and candlelit dinners. Which she did enjoy but then she saw the others in their class
She saw Juleka light up when Rose got her a murder mystery book or saw how happy Nino was when Alya surprised him with tickets to some random indie movie she knew he liked.
 Hell- Kim was super attentive to his girlfriend and boyfriend and knew things about them most didn’t. She remembered being weirded out Kim had picked up a bird skull to give to Odine before learning she liked bones. 
 But her and Adrien? Flowers and chocolates and pastries and the technical movements of romance without actual romance. It was fun. It was light.
 But it wasn’t… it wasn’t romance. Not really romance, not the romance of people actually in love. 
 They broke up age eighteen, both smiling and hugging each other goodbye after they had finally fully spoken to each other.
 He knew she liked sewing and cooking and video games but when he thought romance he didn’t think of her interests. When she thought romance she didn’t think of his interests. And that was okay. 
 “We should have stuck to friends,” Adrien said, hugging her tightly.
 “Yeah, but hey- we’re smarter then we were before.” Marinette pulled away with a smile. She gave him a long look before chuckling. “I’m never going to find another like you.”
 “I’ll never find another like you.” Adrien shrugged. “It sucks but…” Marinette laughed and hugged him again.
 “But it’s the best for us.” 
 It still hurt. She had held onto her fantasies for years, dreaming of being with him, of dating him and having a life together. But the more time spent with him the more she realized that they were incompatible in many ways.
 He was a romantic who enjoyed the big displays and the grandness of romance. She enjoyed a day spent with her partner and having a quiet dinner together. She wanted kids, a family with a pet and to grow old together. He wanted to travel the world and meet new people. He didn’t want kids, to scared to be like his dad- and in a way wanted to piss off his father by never continuing the Agreste line- something he always said in a mocking tone. 
 In the end, their last few months of dating was more them pretending for the public so people- Lila mostly- would leave him alone. But now, Marinette was going to New York for the summer break. They were eighteen and Adrien was finally allowed to do what he wanted thanks to a clause in his trust fund that let him move out of his house and move into a small apartment. He was allowed to go after what he wanted. She was happy for him.
 They announced their break up to the class, and Marinette was not surprised when Lila began speaking in a ‘low voice’ about how odd it was that Marinette was suddenly breaking up with Adrien after getting her internship. 
 It split the class.
 Lila had been a thorn to Marinette ever since they were fifteen and she had not mellowed. Sure, she had stopped some of her lies when it became obvious that the class might actually know better- Lila learning Marinette designed for Jagged and that Rose knew Ali was a highlight for Marinette- but she was still an utter bitch. She also had gotten nasty in her pursuit of Adrien, and it took him going to the police and to social media to tell her off for her to back off.
 The class…  only Nathanael knew the truth- because he remembered she knew Jagged way before anyone else- Rose and Juleka only knowing because of Ali. The others followed Lila like dogs. It had hurt at first but… well,  Marinette didn’t mind it much now. She had come to the conclusion- after losing Fu, after her break down and her parents making her go to therapy- that she didn’t care anymore. She was going to love herself and move on. There was no one like her, she was a ten out of ten and she was done trying to protect people who wanted to paint her as jealous or mean.
 Alya had been the worst and Marinette had to really look at their friendship to realize that she and Alya had never had an equal friendship and that both had bigger priorities over each other. It wasn’t like one of them was more important in the friendship but neither had really told each other everything and both were a little focused on their own issues. 
 It didn’t help that Alya had the expectation that Marinette should always be willing to help her out, even when she was busy. Marinette had finally had enough when Alya tried to dump the twins on her again and she’d gone to Alya’s mother about it. Alya had been furious until she had been told off by almost everyone in the class for her actions in randomly dumping the twins on Marinette. Even Nino didn’t think it was cool. Marinette said she wouldn’t have minded covering a date or two but not as much as Alya dumped the twins on her.
 Alya had to face facts after that and the two sat down to finally lay their crumbling friendship to rest, both agreeing that in the end they hadn’t been good friends to each other with Alya ditching her for her blog or foisting the twins off her so much and the various Adrien plots while Marinette admitted her ditching Alya cause she was terrified of Akumas and her disinterest in the blog and Alyas reporting classes wasn’t that great either.
 They parted as ex-friends but remained friendly. Alya as well had toned down her ‘Marinette is jealous’ spiel. She still believed Lila but had given up trying to make Marinette like the girl. 
 She was among the few who didn’t seem to think Marinette would use Adrien, and it was the first time Marinette had seen her and Lila argue. It made Marinette send the Italian a smug smirk before she walked off.
 As for the others? Kim, Max, Ivan, Mylene, Sabrina and Nino? Well, she looked them all in the face and told them, loudly.
 “You think I’m that conniving? You think I’m like that. Fine, but we aren’t friends anymore. And let me tell you- you’re never going to find another like me. You’ll never have another friend like me. To bad, so sad. Goodbye.” she left with a wave and headed to the airport, Miraculous Box in her backpack.
 She was heading to New York- not with the asshole that was Audrey but to intern under someone Jagged knew. It was going to be fun and she couldn’t wait.
She would have to go back to Paris every once in a while to deal with Akumas but Hawkmoth had toned down his actions in recent years. He seemed less into the whole thing honestly. She remembered talking about it with her class and Alya had jokingly suggested he was getting laid.
 Maybe he was.
 -0-
  New York was amazing and Marinette loved her work. Her grandma had contacted the daughter of a friend of her’s- Melody Conners- and the woman had agreed to let Marinette stay with her. Melody was some sort of government person from what Marinette understood who baked for fun and thus Marinette enjoyed joining in when she could.
 She saw so many interesting things, ogled cute boys and girls and was just happy in general. Paris and even Lila were far from her mind. 
 More so when Melody asked if she minded if she had a dinner party at the apartment for her and her coworkers and boyfriend.
 “Hades, my boyfriend, is technically my boss but not? I’m not directly under him but he is higher up and has a lot of clout. We’re revealing we’re dating to a few people and his apartment building is being renovated for some reason.” 
 “That’s fine.” Said Marinette. “Whose all coming? Is it alright if I’m here?”
 “Yeah it’s alright and there’s me, May- you’ve met her- Alex Cyrpin who we all call Cyrpin, Suzan, Jeff, Cerberus, Persephone and- okay you’re gaze is weird.”
 “Your boyfriend is Hades and you know a Cerberus and Persephone.”
 “Hades parents were weird and his brother Zeus- yes I know- decided to name his daughter Persephone. She lives with her uncle though and no they’re not dating they both make faces when the Old Myths are brought up.” Melody put a lot of emphasis on the words old myths for some reason, making Marinette frown and plan to speak with the Kwami. “My brother Josh will be here to.” 
 Marinette has met May and Josh, and briefly saw Cyrpin one day when they had come to grab Melody for something neither spoke about so it’s not a big deal.
 Speaking with the Kwami that night, in hushed whispers, reveals a lot.
 Like the fact that the people she’s about to meet, Hades and Persephone are probably actual gods.
 “They aren’t like us. They reincarnate into new bodies when their old ones die. The Old Myths were real but it changed over time. Or they were misinterpreted.” Tikki explained. “I know Persephone went to live with Hades to avoid her father and stepmother not to marry him.”
 “Is Cerberus human?” Asked Marinette- honestly just curious. Tikki laughed.
 “He is. Now. He doesn’t remember being a dog. I don’t know what happened but most of the monsters started reincarnating as humans. They don’t remember their pasts like the gods but they’re around to.” Tikki told her. “Their powers became what they call Auras, taking various shapes.”
 “Huh. That’s good to know thanks.” It also made  Marinette think she could probably tell them about the Miraculous. She loved Paris but the more time she spent in New York the more she loved it. As well Paris was full of memories of Akumas and fighting for her life. New York wasn’t. She didn’t want to stay in a city that every time she turned around she remembered seeing Chat die or remembered being stabbed. She knew Chat felt the same and so did their fellow heroes. They couldn’t stay. 
 If she spoke to the gods maybe they would ignore her a little or at least keep an eye on her but not bug her. It was an idea anyway.
-0-
 The dinner party started out nicely. The apartment was filled with people and Marinette had to put away the cot she used to sleep but it was really nice to meet so many people. And apparently, Cyrpin knew her boss- she was their sister apparently- and enjoyed talking fashion enough that Marinette had fun. 
 But the real fun was with Cerberus. He was handsome and had been so confused, standing in the middle of the room and obviously out of his depth. Marinette had smiled and gone up to him to see if we wanted to talk about anything. Perhaps video games.
 He did but he was also very enthusiastic about her designing when he recognized her name as designing for Jagged Stone. He was a fan apparently and the two quickly began talking about music and video games.
 Marinette even found herself agreeing to go frisbee golfing the next day with him after a while after they discussed sports. Marinette had found that while fencing was a bust she loved parkour and frisbee golf- Luka and his sister played- and she was eager to have fun and play again.
 “So, do you actually know anyone here?” She asked him, later and when she stole a glass of wine. Though no one actually cares. Jeff- a coworker on the floor of Melody’s - is British and had some truly spectacular rants about how stupid Americans are about drinking. He’d given two already. One when he saw her picking up a glass and another when another person named Mandy egged him on. Everyone else didn’t care and Melody said she was eighteen and could do what she wanted as long as she did it under her roof and not in public.
 “I know Hades and Melody. Cyprin a little bit I know their mom more then them.” Cerberus answered. “I’m off duty and Hades likes to have us around when he can.” But he looked happier speaking with her and she really liked speaking with him. They have enough in common it’s fun and enough not in common it’s interesting.
 Marinette was about to open her mouth and chat again when the Akuma alarm on her phone went off. She sighed, loudly and pulled it out. “... oh wow.”
 “What’s going on?” Cerberus asked but Marinette was to busy checking out the new Akuma. Lila again but… huh. Looked like she had been finally fully exposed by someone. 
 Marinette looked up to see most of the room looking at her and she made her choice with a quick thought. After all, if there were gods in the room…
 “Tikki, can you come out?” The Kwami did and she looked amused as she did so.
 “Really?” Marinette shrugged and went to her bag to pull out the box and get the glasses, putting them on as the entire room stared.
 “Sorry, have to go save Paris!” She left with a wave and a quick transformation before making a portal and skipping off.
 Beating the Akuma was easy. Lila was a common foe and wrecking her wasn’t a big deal. Dealing with Chat as well wasn’t a pain. He seemed thoughtful and quiet. He did ask if they could talk later and she agreed. They would talk in two days. She wondered why he would ask her to chat with him.
 Going back to the party, Melody was waiting with a first aid kit that Marinette was thankful for because while the cure took away the big things it didn’t always get the smaller stuff on her and she had some cuts. She got herself patched up and chatted with Hades who was more than willing to add her name to their registry of individuals with magic. He was also delighted to speak in some language with Tikki, Persephone joining in, and the other Kwami coming out of the box to join in.
 “You sure you can go frisbee golfing tomorrow?” asked Cerberus and she laughed.
 “Yeah, I’m sure.” It would be fun.
-0-
 Back in Paris, everything had fallen apart. Marinette was gone for the summer and none of them had really realized what it meant. More so when she broke their friendship.
 But they slowly began feeling it.
 The bakery didn’t give them discounts anymore which shocked them. They had been getting discounts? 
 They had known the bakery was pretty well known but not to the extent they learned. It was an incredibly expensive and high-end bakery and they had never known. Why would they? They bought food for the same price as other bakeries.
 But learning the truth, and looking it up, they were shocked. 
 And then came more. Marinette had always been a sounding board for them. She could point out flaws in their viewpoints and offer different ideas. She could figure out how to actually make their ideas work too.
 The first time Max tried to text her an idea, she sent back a reminder she wasn’t his friend and blocked him. He never finished it.
 The time Nino texted her, asking about where to get cheap clothing for a movie he was directing for fun, he was told his number was blocked.
 They felt lost, adrift. But they tried to keep going. At least until they saw the amazing video Kitty Selection did, full of cool clothes and effects, a special mention given to Marinette who helped them out. And then they were lost again.
 Alya was the one it all clicked for. It was when Lila fake sobbed Marinette had sent her nasty messages. Alya was the one to stare at her and ask to see them. Lila said she had deleted them had Alya shaking her head.
 “You know, the more I think about it, the more I see you always blaming Marinette for everything,” Alya told her. And Lila had sobbed and said Marinette was a bully who had tripped her the day before. The class had been angry until Alya said, dryly and colder than ice. “She’s in New York you fucking moron.”
 That shut up the entire group, Lila going pale. Alya walked away without a second thought.
 That was the beginning of the end for Lila. They all looked back and ripped apart each lie she had ever told. She was done, ruined. 
 And when Ladybug came to deal with her, Alya finally got confirmation of something.
 “I don’t know her other than the pest who lies every five seconds.” 
 Lila was done.
 And so was the class. They had broken their friendship with one of the most amazing people they had ever met. They had destroyed their friendship with her and now they had nothing. They didn’t have an amazing friend. They instead had only memories.
 They were never going to find another like her.
-0-
Marinette smiled as she and Cerberus walked around the park, ice cream in hand and Cerberus pretending his brothers weren’t following them. It wasn’t working. 
 “You’re adorable,” she told him and he laughed.
 “You too.” she giggled and leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’ll miss you when you’re in Paris.”
 “I have the Horse Miraculous.” she pointed out. “And I am totally coming here for school. And staying afterwards. Cyprin’s sister knows about me and will totally look the other way when I run over to save Paris, and her employees are mostly monsters or demigods.”
 “True.” Cerberus hugged her sideways. “...Uhh Marinette I… ummm…”
 Marinette lifted an eyebrow and waited. Cerberus opened his mouth then closed it. He shifted on his feet and looked down.
 “Umm… I know you and Chat aren’t together. I mean, you told me about the conversation you two had and stuff…” 
 Ah yes. That one. After she had gone back to Paris for her chat with Chat, she had told Melody everything but only told Cerberus that she had talked with Chat about not getting together.
 In reality, it had been emotional talk filled with yelling and them both unloading their feelings. Chat demanding to really know if she felt nothing, and herself just ripping into him for not listening.
 It had been exhausting but it left them feeling better when they finally got it all out there. They both agreed they cared for one another deeply. More than family or friends. You couldn’t fight magic together and not feel that.
 But it wasn’t… romantic. Not on her end and she was done with him not getting it. He had backed off in the last few years but she had assumed he was dating and wouldn’t do that to his partner. But now he simply needed to know. Would they have a chance?
 “No,” she had told him. “I care for you so deeply, but… Chat you ruined any chance of romantic feelings by not listening when I told you I was in love with someone else. When you threatened to give up the ring when I couldn’t tell you a secret that was not mine to tell. When you agreed to let Alya post that kiss on the Ladyblog without thinking of my feelings. Chat- you are my dearest friend. My best friend. But I’m just not into you.”
 It had been raw and hurtful but they ended their conversation knowing where they stood. Friends- closer than most and probably really leaning into platonic partner territory- but just friends. 
 They still worked well together but it was awkward and probably would be for a while. Like her and Adrien honestly. Sure, they’d been more like buddies then dating but it had been awkward before she left. 
 “I uhhh, welll…” her mind was pulled back to the present and she chuckled as Cerberus tried to stutter out what he wanted.
 “If you’re trying to ask me out, the answer’s yes.” She told him. She heard cheers and Cerberus turned to glare at his brothers while Marinette just laughed before turning his face to her to kiss him.
 She would never find anyone like Adrien. And that was okay.
 Because she found someone in Cerberus. 
 And she would never find another like him, so she was going for it.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
 I don’t hate Adrien but I really wanted Marinette to be upfront and blunt with Chat that he had ruined any chance of her liking him at all. Because he had.
 Look, I know some go oh it’s not harassment but it is. As soon as someone says no and you keep going, that’s harassment. Marinette has said no, that she likes someone else but Chat just won’t knock it off. It’s not okay, it’s not cool and I totally think that Marinette would just full on stop seeing him as an option if he keeps going. Because as a kid, he doesn’t know better. It’s taught by media, by society that a man chasing after a woman should ignore her firm nos. That she doesn’t mean it. So I can make allowances for his actions to a point. 
 But I also know that as someone who has seen people being harassed in real life, that once the line is crossed it can never be taken back. Marinette stopped seeing him as an option when he wouldn’t stop. She still considered him a friend because the two years he didn’t press were some of the best of her life, spending time with him. And the time she spent with him when he wasn’t hitting on her was amazing. 
 But romantic? No, that ship sailed.
But I didn’t want to bash him? I admit this started out really salty, but talking with @anastasian-dreamer I changed it so it was less salty towards him. 
 Also this was mostly me getting a random idea and playing with it. Hope you guys liked it even if most of you probably haven’t played Astoria.
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ollieofthebeholder · 4 years ago
Text
leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic
Read from the beginning on Tumblr || Also on AO3
Chapter 48: Sasha
“Yes, of course. I’ll—I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Sasha disconnects the call and stares at her cell phone for a long moment. She’s worked at the Magnus Institute for almost seven years now, been in the Archives for almost two. She honestly thought she’d lost the ability to be afraid of anything the mundane world could dish up anymore.
But that phone call…
“You okay, Sash?” Melanie’s voice seems to be coming from a long distance away.
With difficulty, Sasha pulls herself together and looks up. It’s just the two of them in the Archives right now, since Martin and Tim are both at lunch; Melanie’s already taken hers, and Sasha will go as soon as one of the others gets back. She’s not really hungry anymore, though.
“I’m fine,” she lies, then stops. They’re trying, they’re all making the effort not to lie to one another or downplay when things are bad. Tim and Martin both know her well enough to call her on it when she does it, and they’re also connected to the Eye well enough to be able to at least get a sense when she does. Melanie doesn’t and isn’t, and it’s not fair to her to keep her in the dark. “It’s my uncle.”
Something in Melanie’s face shifts, and she half-closes her laptop. “Is he sick?”
“No—I don’t know. He just said he has something he needs to talk to me about in person. They’re making an exception for me to come see him today.” Sasha rubs her forehead. “That’s not normal, Mel.”
“O…kay,” Melanie says slowly. “You usually…can’t visit him whenever you want? What, is it a prison or something?”
Sasha winces, remembering that Melanie wasn’t part of the team when she told them. “Yes, actually. He’s in HMP Pentonville.”
Melanie covers her mouth with a hand. “Oh, God, Sasha, why didn’t you shut me up? My big mouth—”
“It’s fine. You didn’t know.” Sasha manages a smile. “But yeah. I don’t know what he’s in for, but if he wants to see me today, and they’re letting me…whatever’s going on can’t be good.”
“Can you, like—” Melanie wiggles her fingers in the universal gesture of mystical bullshit. “—Know what it is?”
“I mean…maybe? I’m trying really hard not to use that outside of…you know, work. I don’t want to risk falling too deeply into it, or—or hurting myself, or someone else.” Sasha sighs. “I think it might be too far away, though. Honestly, I think the only way to find out what’s going on is to go out there myself.”
“Go out where?”
The voice makes both Sasha and Melanie jump. She looks up quickly to see Martin coming towards them, a bag of leftovers dangling from one hand. He looks about like he’s looked since Jon left—tired, worried, and faintly stressed. “Martin, Jesus. Heard from Jon yet?”
“Yeah, did you not see the text?” Martin frowns at her slightly. “I thought he sent it to the group chat.”
Now that she thinks about it, Sasha remembers hearing a slight beep while she was on her phone call, but she didn’t think about it twice. She checks her phone and sees two new texts—one from Jon saying he was changing buses, one from Tim asking what he was changing them into. Rolling her eyes fondly, she sets it down. “No, I—I was on the phone. My uncle called. He wants to see me today.”
“Oh.” Martin’s expression is one of mingled sympathy and concern. “Is everything okay?”
“I don’t know. That’s what we were talking about. I don’t know what’s going on and I don’t want to…you know.” Sasha makes the same gesture Melanie made a few moments ago.
Martin nods in understanding. “Did you have anything time-sensitive you were doing today?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Then I don’t think Jon would mind you taking the rest of the day off. I know you won’t be able to get to Pentonville and back in the span of your lunch break, and this seems…kind of important.” Martin reaches over and squeezes Sasha’s hand gently. “Let us know if you need anything.”
Sasha smiles and squeezes back. “Thanks, Martin. I’ll keep you all posted.”
An hour later, she’s seated in a room at the prison, jiggling her foot nervously and waiting. It’s one of the small, private rooms usually set aside for attorneys to consult with their clients, which is unusual; normally she has to conduct her visits in a loud, noisy room with a Plexiglas divider between them. A private conversation, on a weekday, out of the clear blue sky? Either something has gone terribly wrong or she’s been lied to.
There’s a familiar whirring sound, and Sasha reaches into her pocket to pull out the tape recorder. She very most definitely did not have this with her when she left; she shut it in her desk drawer before heading out, and it hadn’t been in her pocket when they searched her. She hopes she won’t get in trouble for having it.
As the thought crosses her mind, the door opens and, with a clank of chains, a figure is escorted in. A gruff voice instructs her to buzz for help if there’s an issue, and then the door closes and leaves the two of them alone together.
There’s another clank as the man leans forward, smiling hopefully. “Sasha.”
Sasha smiles back, genuinely pleased but worried at the same time. “Hello, Uncle Wade.”
The family resemblance between them is obvious. Both of them have the same facial structure, the same shape to their eyes, the same skin tone. They’d looked enough alike once to switch places, when Sasha was eighteen and going through a phase and shaved her head. Now, though, after almost a decade in prison, Wade Copper looks old enough to be her father—gaunt, thin, his once-dark hair almost solid grey despite the fact that he’s only in his mid-forties. Every time she’s seen him, he’s tried to smile for her, tried to stay cheerful as he asks about her work, tried to convince her things aren’t so bad for him, but she knows. She can see the weight of imprisonment bearing him down.
Today, though, is different. Today his eyes are sparkling, his smile seems real, and he seems to be barely keeping something contained. She has no idea what it is, but it seems like he’s…excited.
Sudden panic strikes her, and she very quickly throws up those mental blocks Jon Prime has been teaching them. The absolute last thing she wants is to take the surprise away from the man who’s had so few to give her over the years.
“Is everything okay?” she asks instead. “You said we needed to talk and—”
“No, no, everything’s fine. Everything’s fine,” Wade assures her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—I wasn’t trying to scare you. I just had some news for you. It could have—are you on your lunch break? Do we need to—”
“I took the afternoon off. My boss is out of town at the moment, so the three—well, the four of us, we’ve got a new coworker—we’re sort of running things ourselves. When the others found out you wanted to talk to me, they suggested I just call it a day. We’ve got all the time in the world.” Sasha smiles. “What’s going on?”
Wade’s smile broadens. “I’m coming home.”
It takes Sasha a second to process that, and then she sits up straighter. “You’re getting released?”
“I heard back from the parole board this morning. I didn’t tell you I was going up because I didn’t want to get your hopes up, but I had the hearing a few weeks ago. Today I got word that they’ve decided I’m a good candidate for release.”
“That’s—that’s wonderful!” Sasha says.
Wade’s smile slips, just a little. “You don’t sound so sure about that. What’s the matter, Puddle-Duck?”
It’s been forever and a day since he called her that—an old family nickname bestowed on her after her favorite bedtime story, the one she used to beg to be read over and over. She’d trailed after her Uncle Wade “like a little duckling” from the time she could walk, and the “duckling” nickname had eventually morphed into Puddle-Duck. He hasn’t used it since she was about twelve, though, and hearing it now almost makes her cry.
“Nothing,” she says, unconvincingly. “It’s just—there’s a lot going on. That’s all.”
“I won’t be an imposition,” Wade says earnestly. “I’ve managed to save up a bit while I’ve been in here from the work I’ve been doing in the prison library. I should be able to get a place. I won’t be in your way—”
“No, it’s not that at all!” Sasha feels horribly guilty. “I’d be happy to have you stay with me. Of course I would. I’ve got loads of space and—and I’ve missed you so much. It’s just that…”
It’s just that the world might end in a year if they can’t stop it. It’s just that she’s trying to figure out a way to pretend to stop a ritual that she knows won’t succeed even if they do nothing without letting the man who does have a ritual that will work know she knows it. It’s just that she’s developing incredibly invasive psychic powers and doesn’t know if she can live with another person who doesn’t know about it. It’s just that the world is objectively terrifying and she doesn’t know if she can lie about it to the only family she has left or let him believe he’s safe.
“It’s just that there’s been a lot going on in the world since you’ve been in here,” she finally says. “I—I worry that you might—that it might be a lot for you to adjust to.”
“Hey, I raised you, didn’t I?” Wade teases. “If I can handle losing my sister and my parents in one fell swoop, especially to…that, and then turn a six-year-old into a relatively functional adult despite barely having passed my A-levels when I started, I think I can handle anything the world thinks it can throw at me. Bring it on.”
Sasha’s whole body tingles. She clasps her hands together tightly to hide the shaking and focuses very hard on that mental block. There’s something there. A secret. A story. Something in the way he said that has the Eye’s attention and it wants to use her. She can’t let it, she can’t…
“Sasha? Sasha, what’s wrong? Are you—Christ, I’m sorry.” Wade reaches for her hands, manacles jangling, then grunts as the chain binding him to the table stops them halfway. “I shouldn’t have brought that up, I shouldn’t have—are you still having that nightmare?”
Sasha can’t help the slightly brittle laugh that escapes her lips. “I don’t have room for my own nightmares anymore, Uncle Wade. Especially ones in red-on-black binary.”
Wade frowns at her in evident confusion. “What do you mean? Who else’s nightmares would you have?”
Shit, Sasha thinks. “It’s a long story. And I don’t think you’d believe it.”
“It’s you, Sash. I’d believe you if you said the sky was green. Anyway, after what I’ve seen, trust me, there’s not much that’s unbelievable.”
Sasha looks hard at her uncle, then glances at the recorder, spinning away. She should have known. Should have realized that if it’s turning on, there’s something he’s seen. He’s been touched by one of the Fears. And she can’t—she can’t—
“It’s got to do with work,” she finally says. “Part of the Archive job—when I, when I listen to people tell me about something they’ve encountered or seen or, or done, if it’s something that really happened…I end up dreaming about it. I’ve only got a couple, but…it does mean I haven’t had any dreams of my own since I started doing that.”
Wade blinks at her. Softly, he says, “So it is real. I knew it.”
“What, the paranormal?”
“Not just that.” Wade hesitates. “I never—I never told you how I wound up here, did I?”
“No, just—you said it was something to do with you hacking into something you shouldn’t have,” Sasha says slowly. “You never explained.”
“Truthfully, I never fully understood it much beyond what I told you. I don’t even know exactly what I did hack into,” Wade says, a bit ruefully. “I suppose it was the culmination of a project, in a sense, but—it wasn’t intentional.”
“What do you mean?”
Wade takes a deep breath. “The short version? I was hunting a computer virus, trying to trace where it came from. I suppose the path led through something I shouldn’t have been looking at and I got arrested. It fell enough under the Official Secrets Act that they could justify locking me up for it. But I swear, Sash, just like I’ve been telling everyone for years, I wasn’t hacking for secrets. I was trying to save lives.”
“I believe you,” Sasha says, because she does. If there’s anyone in the world she trusts completely, it’s her uncle. And really, this is the most mundane thing she’s been asked to believe in ages. “I just don’t—I don’t understand how tracing a computer virus can save lives. Unless it was infecting hospital computers or something like that.”
“No, that would have made sense.” Wade sighs. “Computer viruses aren’t supposed to be able to infect humans, but…this one did. O-or something like that. I honestly don’t know how to explain it, but…well, if working at that institute of yours is giving you other people’s nightmares, maybe you’ll know better than I do.” He ponders for a moment. “That’s probably a big part of why I got locked up, honestly. I couldn’t explain why I was hunting the computer virus without sounding insane, so I didn’t try. I mean, what was I supposed to say? ‘Yes, Your Honor, I wasn’t even aware of what system I was in, I was just looking for the origin of a bit of coding that killed my entire family’?”
Sasha freezes. The static in her mind gets louder and more insistent. “I don’t understand,” she says with difficulty, rather afraid that she does. He’s right, computer viruses aren’t supposed to infect humans, so if one did…it must belong to one of the Fears. She just can’t imagine which one.
Wade hesitates. “I—I don’t—Sasha, Puddle-Duck, if you don’t—you don’t remember what happened, do you?”
“To Mum and Dad? No.” The doctor said it was to be expected; she was six years old at the time, and it had been a rough experience. She had blacked out most of it, and honestly a lot of her memories from before that point as well. She remembers huddling in a closet with her teddy bear clutched tightly to her chest, hearing her uncle screaming her name, clinging to him tightly after he found her, both of them sobbing as he promised over and over that he would protect her, that he would never leave her, but for the life of her, she can’t remember what she was hiding from. The nightmare she had for years, one that made her wake up screaming almost until she left for uni, hadn’t been specific. She just remembers strings of ones and zeros in constantly shifting columns, blood-red on a black background, scrolling past her vision, but something in the code is terrifying and wrong…
“I don’t want you to have those nightmares.” Wade reaches for her hands again, looking conflicted. “You deserve to know, but…but if your job means that if people tell you those stories, you’ll dream about them too—I’ve had to train myself out of waking up screaming. It’s bad. I don’t want to do that to you, too.”
“It’s not—it’s not exactly like that.” Sasha wonders how to phrase it, then decides, to hell with it. He says he’ll believe her. She might as well tell the truth. It’s not like they’re being recorded by anything other than the spooling tapes, and there aren’t exactly eyes around for Elias to watch through, as far as she knows. She takes her uncle’s hands. “There’s a being…a thing that thrives on fear. I mean, there are a lot of them, but there’s one in particular that lives off of the fear of—of knowledge and secrets being exposed and being watched and all that.”
Wade gives a bitter laugh. “It must love prisons then.”
“In fact, the Institute is built over the remains of the old Millbank Prison, probably right where Smirke was testing out the panopticon design. And that’s the thing. The Institute…kind of belongs to that being. Which means I do, too.” Sasha takes a deep breath. “Sometimes I can—I can tell secrets without trying. I’m not right now,” she adds hastily. “I’ve been working on not…accidentally reading people’s minds or whatever. But the other part of it is the statements. When people tell us their stories and we dream about them? We’re not taking the place of the person dreaming about them. We’re…watching, I guess. Observing. We’re just…there.” She squeezes Wade’s hands. “So if you tell me, Uncle Wade, and I do end up sharing your nightmares, maybe it’ll be better. Because then you won’t have to look at them alone.”
Wade stares at her for a long moment, then nods slowly. “Okay,” he whispers. “Okay. I’ll tell you. You need to know, anyway.”
Sasha smiles, as reassuringly as she can, and glances at the tape recorder. “Do you want to make this…official? I can do, um, I can do the whole spiel we do at the Institute. Put it on the record. We can do some research, maybe.”
“Will it help?”
“It might.”
“Then…okay. Lay it on me.”
Sasha puts the tape recorder between them and takes her uncle’s hands again. Clearly, she says, “Statement of Wade Copper, regarding a murderous computer virus. Recorded direct from subject, twenty-first March, 2017.” She nods at her uncle. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Wade swallows. “Right. Well, you know I’ve always been into computers. I loved coding and programming and seeing what I could do. One of my favorite things to code up were the games, especially interactive fiction. I subscribed to a couple magazines where people would publish the codes for games they’d developed, and I would put them in and play them. I owned a couple that I bought commercially, too. One of the ones I had that I was most excited about was The Hound of Shadows. The story sounded right up my alley—a proper creepy one—but it turned out to have one of the worst parsers I’ve ever seen, and I struggled to finish it. I was crushed.
“I was looking around for something that was like that but…better? Tried my hand at coding it myself, but you know me, I’ve never been all that at coming up with a story of my own. Did a couple reasonably decent games based on a few of the stories I liked, but it wasn’t the same. Around the time I was finishing up my A-levels, some classmates and I were talking about interactive fiction, and I was complaining about Hound. That’s when one of my mates told me about a game he’d recently come across. He said he couldn’t finish it because it was too scary for him, but he thought I’d like it. It was called The Conqueror Worm.”
As he talks, Wade’s eyes go vacant and his shoulders slack; it’s like the words are pouring out of him independent of his will. Sasha never takes her eyes off him. The story fills her the same way Basira’s did, the same way Tim and Martin’s tale of the Not-Them did, the same way that man with the dog’s story did last week. She’s just aware enough of the situation to feel guilty about it, but she can’t stop him now if she tries.
“I managed to get my hands on a copy,” Wade continues. “As soon as I’d finished my exams, but while I was still waiting for the results to come back, I loaded it up on our computer. My friend was right—it was exactly what I was looking for. Interactive fiction. According to the cover, it was ‘loosely’ based on the Edgar Allan Poe poem, which I’d never heard at that point, but if it was Poe I knew it’d be spooky. The story was wonderful, the parser was the best I’d ever seen. Sometimes it was like talking to a real person—like that one Sergey Ushanka bot you and I spent the evening with when you were eight, you remember?” Sasha nods. “Anyway, I was really into it. The idea was that you were the manager of a theater that was putting on a new play, but something was trying to sabotage it, something inhuman and unholy. Started off normal enough, got creepy right fast. I had this constant sense of creeping dread. I loved it.
“The weird thing about this one, though, was that every so often you’d start to do something and suddenly three pixels would turn red. Always three, two in one row and one in between them in the row immediately above or below, and then they’d switch places a few times before disappearing. At first I thought it was a glitch. Then I realized it was intentional, that it was something to do with commands. I finally figured out that if the pixels appeared, you’d done something right.
“I started tracking the commands and decisions that got the wiggling pixels to appear, then started doing them more. Better. Started getting two, three, four at a time. I was sure it meant I was going to win. By the time I got to ‘opening night’ of the play, I could generally make upwards of ten appear every time I made the right choices.  The thing is that ‘opening night’ was the big climax of the game, and there was only one command you could type: ‘The Show Must Go On’. Once you typed that, the play started and you watched to see if you got it right. You wanted to see the ‘play’, but I knew it was a horror game, so I told you to let me watch it first, and if it wasn’t too scary, you and I would play on Saturday. You pretended to accept that, but I knew you were angry. I could hear you yelling halfway across the house. At the time, I kind of thought it was funny, actually.”
Sasha vaguely remembers this now. She was bitterly disappointed—Uncle Wade always let her “help” with his games—so she waited until she was out of the room, then stomped off to the living room where her parents and grandparents were playing a card game and loudly declared that he was the meanest meanie to ever mean. Her mother laughed and said he was always like that, and her grandfather swept her onto his lap and offered to let her be his partner, until…
“What happened then?” she asks.
Wade takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I typed in the command, and I watched. The ‘play’ started, and…there was a voice. Reciting a poem. I guess it was the Poe poem. The ‘actors’ were performing along to the words, but then I noticed the wiggling pixels. One by one, slowly at first, then more and more. They started in the corners, then gradually started moving inwards. But see, amid the mimic rout, a crawling shape intrude. While I was watching, the wiggling pixels crept in an ever-increasing wave towards the ‘stage.’ That’s when I realized it was all the ones I’d been rewarded with for making the right choices. The voice got louder and more desperate-sounding, and then the pixels—I finally realized they were supposed to be worms—swarmed the ‘actors’ and…the screen went red, and then it went black. All the while the voice was still talking. And then it was just the black screen, with the text in blood red, appearing as the voice spoke the words.”
He swallows hard. “I—I looked up the poem. Later. It’s a real poem, ‘The Conqueror Worm’. The plot does follow the…events of the final scene of the game, up to a point. It’s a play, and then a worm—or in the game’s case, many worms—shows up and eats all the actors. The last four lines are…chilling.” He closes his eyes and recites, “And the angels, all pallid and wan, / Uprising, unveiling, affirm / That the play is the tragedy ‘Man,’ / And its hero the Conqueror Worm.”
A chill runs up Sasha’s spine. “I know that poem. He used it in ‘Ligeia’.”
“Maybe. But what got me…what really spooked me at the time, was that the words on the screen weren’t…right. I didn’t know that at the time. I thought it odd. But the voice spoke them, exactly as they appeared on the screen. Instead of ‘The play is the tragedy “Man”’…it said, ‘The play is the tragedy “Guy Copper.”’ The voice even said Dad’s name. I remember thinking that was a creepy coincidence. And then…”  Wade takes another deep breath, and there are tears in his eyes. “I heard a noise from another room, like someone shouting. I turned to look, and when I turned back, the words were changing, morphing almost. Computers didn’t work like that back then, Sash, the graphics weren’t—I know you know that. But it was like the name blurred. And then the voice said those four lines again, but with the new name. And the angels, all pallid and wan, / Uprising, unveiling, affirm / That the play is the tragedy ‘Mary Copper,’ / And its hero the Conqueror Worm.”
The memories are starting to come back. A red wash fills her mind, then the screaming, then her mother pushing her away…oh, God. “And the next name—the next name was ‘Marjorie James’?”
“Yes,” Wade whispers. “And that’s when the screaming started. I was screaming, too. I was—I was convinced it was the game, that it was—I kept hitting keys, backspacing over and over, typing EXIT and hitting the Escape key and—nothing worked. It shifted from Margie’s name to Hugh’s, and…I thought about how many worms had been on the screen, how many ‘successes’ I thought I’d had, and I was suddenly terrified. It started to change again, and I—I dove under the table and I pulled the plug. The sound died. The light died. The screaming stopped, all at once.
“I went running and—and I found them. Mum and Dad, Margie and Hugh, all sprawled around the card table. They were all dead. They were—they were full of worms, Sasha. Blood-red ones. I didn’t know if they’d been red before they…” Wade inhales shakily and looks away. The tears are rolling down his face now. “I called 999, I was trying to tell them what had happened, but—but then I realized I couldn’t find you. I shouted at the poor woman to hurry and I dropped the phone and went looking for you. I was terrified that I’d been too late…but there you were, hiding in my closet with your teddy bear. You had blood on your arms and chest, but you weren’t hurt, and I—oh, God, Sasha. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” Sasha whispers. “It’s not. I wish—I’m so sorry, Uncle Wade.”
They both cling to each other’s hands for a moment, crying silently. Finally, Wade takes a deep breath and frees one hand to wipe his eyes. “Anyway, that’s…I couldn’t really explain it to people when they showed up. Just that I’d heard screaming and…the worms were gone by then, but it was obvious. I told a few lies about how old I was and managed to get them to let me take care of you instead of putting you in a home, and for a while everything was fine. Then…just after you left for uni, I was debugging a computer for someone who’d downloaded a game off an FTP server and picked up some sort of virus. When I went into the code, I discovered a secondary virus underneath the main one and went to dig it out. I thought it was a dead-man switch of some kind—you know, remove the main virus, trigger the second one—so I was going to take that one out first. But then I realized it was just some metadata. I would have just deleted it without a second thought, except that I recognized the words. It was those same four lines, the last lines of ‘The Conqueror Worm’, except that it had a name I didn’t know as the name of the ‘play’.”
Another chill runs up Sasha’s spine. “You’re sure you didn’t know it?”
“I didn’t, but my client did. I asked him about it when I gave him his computer back, and he said it was his girlfriend’s name, she was out of town on a trip. I told him to give her a call, and he looked at me kind of funny, but said he would.” Wade sighs. “I looked her up a couple times. Two days later her obituary popped up.”
“You’re saying—”
“I’m saying that once is happenstance, twice is coincidence. But I kept my eyes open, and a few months later, I saw the words again. Different computer, different name, same results,” Wade tells her. “I started tracing it. It’s a—well, it’s a worm, in the truest sense of the word, but I was sure if I could trace its path, figure out where it came from, I could stop it from spreading. Seven or eight years ago, though, I…guess I went through something I wasn’t supposed to, got caught, and wound up here.” He sighs heavily and sits back, blinking. “And…that’s it. I still call it the Conqueror Worm, but…I couldn’t stop it. It’s still out there.”
“I don’t think you can stop it,” Sasha says slowly. Several things slot into place in her mind. When Tim looked at all of them and described the colors he saw on them, he’d mentioned that Sasha had the same sick yellow-green as Martin and Jon Prime faintly woven over her upper torso, but she had just assumed it was from her encounter with Timothy Hodge, the first night she met Michael. Now she realizes the mark he described is too big to be from a single worm, and that the Corruption marked her much more thoroughly than that. She might have to get Tim to take a look at the tape now that she’s made it, but…she’s pretty sure she’s right.  “I think this thing came from—from one of the other fear beings. I’d have to look in the Archives to see if there’s a way to destroy it. There might be, I don’t know. But I do know that you wouldn’t have been able to destroy it on your own. Not without succumbing to the power that it fuels.”
“Sash.” Wade grips her hand tightly. “Are you in danger? If you…belong to one of these powers. Will it hurt you?”
“Maybe. Probably,” Sasha admits. “Someday. I don’t know. It’s—it’s all a bit complicated. I don’t know for sure.” She pauses and reconsiders. “I don’t think it will actively hurt me. But I don’t think it cares if I live or die, in the long run.”
Wade’s face was a study in fear and sorrow. “And it’s from working at the Magnus Institute,” he says. It’s not really a question. “You never would have done that if it wasn’t for me. I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t know about that,” Sasha says. “Maybe. Maybe not. My project with the EPCC was shutting down anyway, so I don’t know where I would have ended up, but the Magnus Institute was hiring. Maybe I wouldn’t have stayed as long as I did, maybe I’d have looked for another job outside of London eventually, but…honestly, Uncle Wade, as much as I’ve always loved snooping and ferreting out secrets? I think I would have ended up bound to it anyway. At least this way I kind of know what’s going on enough to mitigate the damage.”
Wade shakes his head slowly. “I just…don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t,” Sasha promises, even though she knows she can’t really promise that. But he’s all the family she has left, he gave up his future so that she could have one, and she’ll do anything she can to make sure she doesn’t waste that. “I’ll tell you everything when you come home. When will that be?”
“Two weeks. The first of April. Is that enough time for—I mean, will you be okay if I—”
“Yes,” Sasha interrupts him. “Of course. Tell me what you need and I’ll get it all set up.”
Wade smiles slowly, the hopeful look back in his eyes. He laces his fingers through hers and squeezes.
“We’ll be all right,” he tells her. “Family looks out for each other. I promise, Puddle-Duck, I will do anything I can to protect you.”
Sasha smiles back and returns the squeeze. She doesn’t tell her uncle that she’s grown up a little beyond his ability to protect her, or that she might need to be the one protecting him. Right about now, she really wants to let him wrap her in a blanket and a hug and promise her that everything will be all right again.
She might even let herself believe him.
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avengersassemble-fics · 5 years ago
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marvel masterlist
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a complete link list of every marvel series posted on this blog. this lists includes incomplete fics (i don’t have plans on continuing, some I may :3), and wips, with the most recent ones first. they are separated by character. some series have their own master lists, and will also be included. pls remember some of these are old, be nice :3
** indicate a possible revival/continuation of the series
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Steve Rogers
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New Perspective (Modern!AU)
Summary: Life seems to be falling apart around you as your husband of three years suddenly reveals an affair, and seeks a divorce. Your perfect life is flipped upside down with his revelation and you have to learn how to be you again. An unforeseen friendship starts to bloom between you and your neighbors new lover, but will these late night rooftop rambles be enough to keep you from going completely batshit crazy in the turmoil of your life?
Series Masterlist
part one : “no sunshine”
part two : “a coast that’s unclear”
part three : “there’s no you and me”
part four : “the bitter pill i swallow”
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Stark’s Girl
Summary: Tony Stark is a good man. He has lost his entire family yet lives his life devoting himself to helping others. Steve Rogers never knew the secret that Tony has kept since his parents death long ago, but it finally comes out, and everything makes a little more sense. Things change for the billionaire, playboy, philanthropist when someone he thought long gone, has been alive this entire time. And Steve has to learn how to keep his secret from everyone around him, without hurting those he cares the most about.
Series Masterlist
part one : “two peas in a pod”
part two : “she loves the wind in her hair”
part three : “i’ll remind you of that everyday”
part four : “i’ve got time”
part five : “you’re my family”
part six : “the truth about paris”
part seven : “together”
part eight : “you’ll be the death of me, stark”
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Just Go With It (Professor!Rogers)**
Summary: (AU Professor Rogers) For years you’ve worked your way up to become a partner at your company, having the hots for your coworker, and many unpromising relationships. When your boss presents an ultimatum, you ask a complete stranger for help.
Series Masterlist
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
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You Go, I Go (also a Bucky fic)**
Summary: Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes were best friends since the beginning of time. Since childhood and into the war, they had each other’s back through thick and thin. That’s what you loved about them. You loved that they included you into their duo and your life was never going to be the same. As the war looms, you follow the boys into the field - because you’re with each other till the end of the line.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
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Unexpected Mutant**
Summary: After a forced experimentation, your life is changed when the Avengers bring you in, and save your life. After the Battle of Sokovia, things begin to go awry, and you find yourself distancing yourself from the people you call your family. With no control, and Thanos’ visit threatening the human race, the fate of the world lies in the Avengers hands - but more importantly, in your hands.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
Epilogue (Loki)
Epilogue (Tony)
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
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A Promise
Steve From Ohio
Promise to Come Back
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Bucky Barnes
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Fine Line
Summary: The world continued on after the Blip. Some people held onto their memories and some people moved on with their lives. Despite the loss and heaviness of the world around them, five years passed and people kept living. But when the snap was reversed, the Blipped returned to lives that had continued without them. Some families were reunited, and some Blipped came back to empty homes and broken families. Through that loss, seeking someone who understands how their feeling may not be the worse idea as the Blipped try to navigate a world that’s different than what they remember.
Series Masterlist
part one “fire and ice”
part two “every grief i carry”
part three “i carry it with me”
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You Go, I Go**
Summary: Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes were best friends since the beginning of time. Since childhood and into the war, they had each other’s back through thick and thin. That’s what you loved about them. You loved that they included you into their duo and your life was never going to be the same. As the war looms, you follow the boys into the field - because you’re with each other till the end of the line.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
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There’s Still Time (Doctor!Barnes)
Summary: AU! Doctor Barnes wakes up every morning next to the woman of his dreams, and goes to work and saves lives. One day when his older mentor has to leave for a family emergency, he meets someone who will change his life forever.
Chapter One
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Thor Odinson
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Against Destiny**
Summary: Thor Odinson x Reader ; Set after the events of AOU. When Thor returned home he insisted on taking the newest addition of the team with him for a few months, insisting they were in his Ragnarok vision. Tony and Steve were adamant but agreed to a two month leave, trusting that he would keep you safe and help you with your talents. Little did they know things would get so crazy on Asgard.
Chapter One
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Peter Parker (Amazing Spider-Man)
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The Switch
Summary: Your life changes with a mistake and a move to the Big Apple. But things start looking up when you meet a certain web slinger.
The Night
The Meeting
The Trip
The New Face
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Johnny Storm
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Fearing Fire
Summary: With Inhumans popping up all over the world, Coulson and the team are trying to find them before a government team gets to them first. When an elemental manipulator mistakenly makes her presence known, the team takes her in to help her understand her powers, and transition easier into her new life.
Found Out
No Control
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the end. for now!
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