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thekidultlife · 4 years ago

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The Most Convenient Escape | Jihoon Soulmate!AU (5)

⍟ Pairing: Jihoon x fem!reader

⍟ AU: Fantasy/ Soulmate AU

⍟ Genre: ANGST, SLOW BURN, fluff

⍟ Warnings: mentions of abuse, drinking, and sex

⍟ Word Count: 8.5k

⍟ Synopsis: For all your life, you have a deep disdain towards Soulmate Bonds, so much so that you are able to write opinions about it in a local newspaper. However, as life would have it, you wake up one day bonded to a person you hardly knew. Throwing in an investigation, annoying roommates, and a revolution looming just beneath the surface, you had to seek for the most convenient escape.

⍟ A/N: So on to the next chapter! This is probably the longest I’ve written for this series! Anyway, please excuse my tarot reading skills, my knowledge is only limited to watching pick a car readings in youtube and google. Now that’s out of the way, please enjoy! -Hyeri

⍟ Taglist: @shoshishua, @woozisnoots (I also want to thank @minkwans and @oprandomfeels for leaving such a nice messages on the tags in the previous chapter!! I dont want to sound creepy but i do comeback to them if i needed motivation to write! so thank you!!)

CILVEKAN ESPIONAGE TURNS PARLIAMENT INTO A BATTLEFIELD by Jeon Wonwoo and Kwon Soonyoung

The Porta Persa Edition, October 12th

Words that break like cannon shots, arguments that burn like incendiaries, bulwarks of statements that are hardly impenetrable—such is a terrifying and impressive sight to behold upon the ancient halls of the Parliament in these last few weeks. The fate of the two Cilvekan agents who were previously caught in Lower Efendel had been a divisive force upon the venerated legislative body of our nation; rendering them into a heated stalemate.

Armed with wit and sound proofs, Conservatives led by Atlen County Representative Kang Jinho campaigned for stringent travel restrictions, as well as a thorough examination of all Cilvekan nationals entering and leaving Porta Persa. He contends that the security of this powerful nation must not be compromised for simple material gains.

Pointing an accusing finger at the trading and tourism industry which has seen immense growth in profits due to the inflow of foreign immigrants and visitors into the country, Conservatives have been critical of lax travel regulations over the years in which they view, as in Rep. Kang’s words, as a means for ‘alien entities’ to ‘wreak havoc in this peaceful land’ and ‘further their covert operations to diminish and weaken the stability of Porta Persa’. According to Rep. Kang, it is rightfully so that sacrifices are to be made to ensure that no foreign powers would dare to assert their influence over this country.

On the other side of the argument lie Santaragossa Assembly Representative Lee Jihoon, the flagship of both Libertarians and Moderates on this matter, who, with his rapid fire responses, have advocated for softer regulations and an extensive counterintelligence program instead.

In his speech to Congress today, Rep. Lee disputes that economic factors are hardly simple, and should not be diminished into mere ‘increase of gains’. In his words ‘There are people who, if harsher travel restrictions are thus placed, will be left for wild dogs to eat, for the weather to beat and rattle their bones on the cold earth. With no means of a livelihood to provide for themselves, what will become of them? For us who have a roof to sleep in, and food on the table to eat, it is easy for us to say that travel restrictions are a minor inconvenience. Yet for these people, harsher travel restrictions are equivalent to a death sentence.’

He further advocates for a better counterintelligence program wherein proper and stronger defenses are to be implemented only at the appropriate areas, as this is not only cost effective, but also ensures that the livelihood and the human rights of all people in Porta Persa, whether be citizen, immigrant, tourist and whatnots are protected and venerated…

◇

“Lee Jihoon was truly frightening during that session. I swear to god, sitting there feels like he’s attacking me personally.”

Unlike the usual, the three of you were not relaxing comfortably outside the lush courtyards of the Royal Academy, eating carefully prepared lunches and enjoying the view. Instead, late morning sunlight poured from the open windows, illuminating the wooden desk and chair you were sitting on, silently listening to your friends.

To your right, sat said friends: Wonwoo and Soonyoung who were fresh from the printers, the rancid smell of ink sticking to their regal school uniform. On Soonyoung’s hands was the freshly printed draft of your newspaper, which was to be released the next day.

He folded the newspaper and tossed it beside you on the desk.

“He’s been like that for what? A week now, I reckon?”

“Two, in my opinion.” Wonwoo answered, adjusting his glasses. He was the calmer kind of fellow. Soonyoung was more theatrical.

“Oh good god, it’s been two weeks already?” Soonyoung exclaimed, his lips ajar. “No wonder Y/N is here all the time!”

Wonwoo glanced at you, who simply turned away and faced the open window. “Why are you here exactly?”

You continued to grind Alizarin berries on your portable mortar and pestle with a nonchalant look on your face. “I’m making your allergy medicine.”

“Not yesterday and in the last few weeks,” Wonwoo retorted back, giving you an inquisitive look. “Now tell me, is it because of Lee Jihoon?”

Groaning, you continued to pour all of your irritation at the poor powdered berries in your mortar. “Must the reason always be Lee Jihoon?”

“Well, why are you here then?” Soonyoung shrugged, glancing at you with raised brows.

Exasperated, you sighed and left the mortar and pestle alone for once. In all honesty, the reason was indeed Lee Jihoon. After he saw your breakdown two weeks ago, you were avoiding him at all cost because you knew he was going to ask you about it and you were not one to divulge such sensitive topics.

Of course, you wouldn’t let them know. “The way my room looks is just nauseating.”

Soonyoung made an incredulous frown while Wonwoo snorted.

“Right.” They both said.

Having childhood friends has its own disadvantages: you couldn’t really hide anything from them. Yet you wouldn’t tell them anything for that matter. Your room was indeed nauseating, spinning around and around as your vision blur if you just stay in one position for far too long.The way your stomach churns and your legs buckle because of the amount of suppressants you were taking to block your soulmate connection was something you simply cannot express into words.

You stare at the red powder inside the mortar. The smell was making you lurch, reminding you of the suppressant, yet you expertly concealed it with a cough and a broad change of subject.

“Aren’t we supposed to go somewhere today?” you asked, adding more berries to the mortar.

“No, it’s on Friday, 3pm,” Wonwoo replied, checking his travel sized planner. “For some time, Soonyoung and I have been tracing documents from Luce Trading to see if they could give us some clues. But most of them inexplicably got lost or destroyed from last year’s flooding, but thankfully, Soonyoung found some in a novelty shop.”

Upon hearing, you quirked a brow at them. “That is quite interesting. It is possible that something important is in those documents, especially when they had deemed it necessary to destroy them. It seems like fortune is on our side today.”

Wonwoo nodded. “Exactly my thoughts.”

“I reckon, those documents can finally settle the question of who their actual victims are,” the other male remarked with a considerate nod. “We can actually take a step forward in this investigation!”

You forced a smile. Truly, you were elated but the way your heart was palpitating wasn't feeling that great to you. Wonwoo adjusted his glasses once more, a habit he has acquired whenever he was thinking of something.

"Quite frankly, I still haven't forgotten what Jihoon had told me a few months ago," he started, fidgeting with his hands. "And god knows if he's telling me the truth or throwing us off the scent."

"Oh that one..." Soonyoung exclaimed, nodding. You glanced at the two of them, looking betrayed.

"Why have I no knowledge of this?" You asked, eyes shooting daggers.

The two boys quickly exchanged glances and panicked.

"You haven't told Y/N?" Wonwoo asked the other male, who was beginning to pout.

"What…I thought you told Y/N!" He replied, pointing at you.

What seemed like a little misunderstanding was going to become a lot of bickering later on, so as you rolled your eyes, you put yourself between the two of them.

"Alright, enough. Just tell me what Lee Jihoon said," you spoke sternly, hands on your hips.

“It’s not as straightforward as you think,” Wonwoo recounted. “Jihoon kept going in circles about our newspaper, Alex Fireflower—”

“Me?” you exclaimed, furrowing your brow.

“Yes, you. And the Gestalt case,” Wonwoo continued, acknowledging you. “At first, I was under the impression that he was simply inquiring what my thoughts were with regards to the Gestalt case as a fellow classmate, yet as it turned out, he appears to be hinting that it was a suicide case.”

A bewildered look was what you gave him, not understanding how a blatantly homicide case could possibly be a suicide. “I need you to expound further than that.”

Your friend shrugged. “That’s where the problem lies. We know that the Gestalts might be involved in the sex trafficking ring due to the judicial records we’ve discovered before, yet to what extent is a matter we have no knowledge of.”

“Oh, yes, that tax evasion case filed against Luce Trading that was suddenly dismissed by court with no apparent reason…it seems malicious, yet I still doubt that it should be considered a connection to the syndicate” Soonyoung remarked.

“Those things usually happen yet everything involved in this case should be accounted for. Even including the possibility of it being a suicide,” Wonwoo continued.

“Yet logistically speaking, how can it possibly be a suicide?” You asked, clearly unconvinced. “Lee Jihoon is merely giving us chaff.”

“That is the reason why I cannot just stop thinking about it. It’s perplexing.”

“You’re just doing mental exercises, Wonwoo,” you dismissed him. “Trusting Lee Jihoon is definitely not advisable. He’s a politician. We might be unaware that he is in fact a part of that syndicate, and is simply playing cat and mouse with us.”

Wonwoo heaved a long sigh, leaning against the bedpost. “That, I won’t deny.”

“Rather than running on conjectures, we should proceed with the investigation instead,” Soonyoung interrupted solemnly. “We simply do not have the entire narrative.”

"I completely agree," you replied, leaning against the table as you go through another wave of stomach cramps with much composure. "Let's…lay out what we know first."

The two of them nodded at you, which you considered a signal to begin.

"So, we know that some government officials are involved in a sex trafficking scheme. Why do we know that?"

Soonyoung answered. "Because Wonwoo unintentionally eavesdropped a conversation between his father and a parliament member, who was trying to ask him to vote against the amendment of the Soulmate bond."

"He offered my father membership to the syndicate among other things…" Wonwoo quietly continued, perusing his thoughts.

"Right. We know that the Gestalt case is somewhat related to the syndicate. Why?"

"For one, that parliament member who had attempted to lobby for my father's vote was asking him to vote against the amendment which has stemmed from the Gestalt case. It could possibly be a stretch but we should not deny it."

Nodding, you continued. "And the fact that we had found out that Rene Gestalt had already died right after the High Court suspension. And had died under a different name and under a mysterious circumstance."

"If Rene Gestalt was a simple nobody, he wouldn’t have died in that manner," Soonyoung added. "And that tax evasion case shouldn't have been dismissed so easily."

"Luce Trading is more profitable than Kwon International, isn't it?" You asked, but Soonyoung immediately replied.

"Hey now! We had better sales for the past decade!"

You giggled, "Alright, my apologies."

"I still find it hard to fit the pieces though," Wonwoo interrupted. "Why Luce Trading? Why did Himi Gestalt die but not Rene? What exactly happened?"

The three of you exchanged glances.

"We need more information."

You leaned back, sighing as you felt the heaviness of the possible truth you have in your hands. Wonwoo and Soonyoung were pretty much the same. That’s why, more than anything, you didn’t want any sort of distraction, especially those that involve soulmate bonds.

“In the meantime, Y/N,” Wonwoo began, giving Soonyoung a look and then the two gazed at you with concerned expressions. “Are you truly, definitely, a hundred percent, alright?”

You knitted your brows, and immediately replied. “I’ve never been better.”

“No…! No, what we meant is…” Soonyoung was the one who responded. “You…you fought with your father, didn’t you?”

It was a sudden inquiry, you can admit that, but you were not at least surprised they had asked. Your father must’ve gone to Soonyoung’s father and then they informed him of the matter.

“A few weeks ago, yes,” you told them, nonchalant as you added more berries to the mortar. “I have decided to cut ties with him once and for all. He’s nothing to me now.”

You noticed that they were taken aback, but it was an expected reaction. The decision was indeed done in the heat of the moment, yet you didn’t feel anymore remorseful.

“You do not have to worry about me. I have you two, and our newspaper is doing quite well in sales,” you reassured them. “Cutting him off is simply removing dead weight off my shoulders.”

Without any warning, Soonyoung pulled you to a tight embrace and Wonwoo followed soon after. You simply stayed still in surprise, as they continued to console you silently, knowing that you didn’t need any words to make you feel better.

“Y/N, please know that we will always be here for you,” Wonwoo began. “We’ve been together since we were children, and we’ll always will be.”

“If you wish to get something off your chest, we are always here to listen. You don’t have to carry everything by yourself.”

You grimaced at this, but hid it easily by burying yourself underneath their embrace. You’ll tell them everything someday, but now, you simply wish to brave the storm by yourself.

“I will.”

◇

"Jihoon!"

Heavy footfalls echo across the marbled hallways of the Parliament. Rows of white columns line up on the curve, the view of Porta Persa easily seen with just one turn of a head.

"Jihoon, please wait for a moment!"

Harsh steps that march through with controlled frustration, and another set which was running after them. Nobody was on sight other than two men who were adorned by their heavy purple robes, billowing with the wind.

"Lee Jihoon!"

"What is it ?!" The other snapped, his eyes piercing and intense.

The Minister of Foreign Affairs sighed, his demeanor tinged with concern. The whole Parliament hearing was tense and unnerving, and Lee Jihoon seemed to be in the middle of the swirling storm.

"I simply wanted to see if you are doing well," Joshua offered, his voice calm, yet the other simply scoffed.

"What do you suppose?" he replied, his tone filled with frustration and sarcasm. "If we lose next week's vote, it'll be all over!"

Joshua reached out for Jihoon's shoulder, trying to help the other through his temper.

"Alright Jihoon, listen to me. We still have time. We can still convince the others to vote against the bill."

"But we need fifty more votes! Where in heaven's name are we going to find those?" He exclaimed and then groaned, resounding through the deserted hall.

"You need to calm down, Jihoon!" Joshua reminded, shaking some sense into him. "You're making a mountain out of a mole hill!"

The dark haired male blinked, stunned by the sudden loudness of his friend's voice. The high had finally subsided in his veins as he huffed and removed himself from Joshua's grasps.

"Jihoon…"

"I apologize. I'm simply exhausted," he replied, sighing as he turned his back to the other. "While this issue has been particularly draining, my soulmate bond is eating my energy away as well."

Joshua blinked, wondering what was the matter this time. They had left Jihoon in his dorm room that day as instructed, yet for some reason after that, he seemed to have become more snappish and gloomy.

Jihoon sighed once more, probably the nth time for today.

"She…she was crying when she arrived, you know. I have no inkling as to why but it did hurt me…seeing her like that," he continued, now more to himself than to Joshua. "I wanted to comfort her or do something, anything…but she pushed me away, both physically and mentally. It's been weighing on me since then."

Without a word, Joshua walked towards him and placed an understanding tap on his shoulder. "I wish I can offer you some help."

At this point, Jihoon simply shook his head with a downcast smile. "There is nothing we can do about it if she doesn't want me."

Those words, as he said it, felt more painful than he had anticipated. Yet that was the truth—she had blocked him, in more ways than one. Jihoon wished he knew why yet he had already spent enough sleepless nights on it that he didn't need more.

"In the meantime, it would be nice if we had those fifty votes before the weekend."

◇

Oct. 14th

Desmere District, Porta Persa

"So, it's here?" You asked, standing in front of a decrepit shop, flanked by two of your friends. "Are you sure it's here?"

You weren’t really one to judge but the way the roof shingles were about to fall, the dull green paint peeling off the door, and the dusty shop window filled by various junk accumulated over the years, was telling a rather clear story.

You could even hardly read the name of the shop.

“52nd Oppleton street, Esmond Novelty Shop….Yes, without a doubt this is the one!” Soonyoung replied cheerfully, grinning ear to ear, “Come on now! No time to waste!”

Wonwoo glanced at you with a knowing look as he followed after Soonyoung through the door. Today seemed to be one of those days where Wonwoo was in a rather irritatingly playful mood. “You heard him. No time to waste now, Y/N.”

It wasn’t new for you to be the victim of their teasing, but you didn’t appreciate it either when it comes. Thus, as you rolled your eyes and pursed your lips, you threw your hesitation out of the window. Following closely behind, you heard the charming bell chime above you as soon as you entered, yet the dust which wafted through the air was not as charming as you had feared.

“Welcome to our shop! Feel free to look around and see if anything suits your fancy!” A male voice greeted you three, though you cannot make out a clear image of him as he seemed to be covered by the centuries old dust.

“Ah, we’re actually looking for someone…” Soonyoung replied, fishing a piece of parchment inside the pocket of his vest. “Um…a Madame Adora?”

While the three of you seemed to be unsure, the tall burly man, which you have now seen after the dust has settled, nodded in understanding.

“Yes, yes. Please follow me. Her shop is at the back,” he replied and turned around, not waiting for you to respond.

Exchanging curious glances, you followed close behind—carefully studying your surroundings as you did. There were a lot of books for one. Stacks upon stacks of leather tomes piled on top of another which was rather deadly if one wrong move was made. The shopkeeper, seemingly used to this dangerous environment, easily navigated his way through the path provided.

There were a lot of miscellaneous items as well: old shoes, typewriters, some ornate desks which were long forgotten. Dirty porcelain dolls, dull grey candelabras, and even a baby grand piano covered with various knickknacks—essentially, this was a shop of extras: once loved, tossed away and buried under the sands of time. Their fate seemed to have given you a melancholic mood, yet there is little you can do to change it.

“Where do you find all of these?” Wonwoo asked, curious as he perused over an old book about outdated potions.

“There are numerous ways,” the man shrugged, dodging a stray pole which was protruding from a pile of junk. “Sometimes we buy them from people who move houses, sometimes they just give it to us, and some just find their way here.”

His words immediately reminded you of the thought that objects do have souls in them. They used to be someone’s important thing; they were once given meaning and context by the people who used to own them. This place had become their new home now, amidst the sea of other objects that were no different.

A light knock on wood snatched you from your thoughts as you averted your attention back to the matter at hand. The shopkeeper had stopped in front of a slightly ajar door, peeking carefully at the space.

“Madame, these people wish to speak to you,” he called out, yet he was met by silence and a rather loud creaking of a chair being moved. A grainy “let them in” soon followed, though you were not as sure since it was just above a murmur.

Nodding, the shopkeeper moved and allowed you space to walk inside the room. With rather modest postures, the three of you silently entered in file, easily spotting a worn out loveseat, which was probably a bright emerald in its youth, to sit on. It was a rather small space, enough to be a breakfast room, with second hand furniture and astrology-related objects littered around to give a sense of mystique.

“Robert, fetch those documents for me please,” the old woman ordered, who you hardly noticed with how she was almost covered by the wooden desk before her. The shopkeeper, who was apparently named Robert hummed and disappeared, closing the door shut.

As soon as he was gone, you scooted on your seat to take a closer look of the old woman. Just as you had anticipated, Madame Adora was petit, but was made to look larger by her bulky dress adorned by stars and moons embroidered in metallic thread. It had the same fabric as her headpiece which was wrapped around her head like a towel. The one which caught most of your attention however, was the large dangling sun and moon earrings which were as big as her head. You wondered if they were as heavy as they looked.

“Um…we’re—” Wonwoo began but was instantly halted by the Madame with just one hand.

“I know what you seek, my dear children,” she began, her voice croaky. Probably from smoking a bit too much; you thought as you noticed the ashtray on her table next to the burning sage.

The three of you raised your eyebrows, wondering what Madame Adora could’ve meant by her words. She seemed to be the eccentric type, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she busted out tarot cards and a crystal ball any minute.

“You are on your path to fulfill a great purpose for humanity. It is a fate neither you nor this country can avoid,” she continued, making you glance at Wonwoo and Soonyoung. You wanted to ask them if she was sane, but out of courtesy, you decided to keep your mouth shut.

“O-Of course…that—that’s what we’re trying to do,” Soonyoung replied awkwardly as he shifted on his seat. “But we do need to—”

“Yet be cautioned. This path does not offer refuge nor solace for the tired and weary. You will be accompanied by danger, deceit and the deep dark evils of this world. You will face adversaries stronger and larger than you had anticipated. Poke the bear, and its claws shall appear. Be strong and always seek for the truth.”

“Uh…yes, of course,” you replied, ending with uncertainty. “So the documents—”

“Ah, yes. Robert will be here soon,” she interrupted yet again. “While we wait, would any of you like a tarot reading?”

“T-tarot reading?” Soonyoung exclaimed, as he leaned forward, not sure if he had heard it right.

What a surprise. You simply smiled.

Interrupting your gloating, Soonyoung suddenly nudged you with his elbow, making you look at him.

“What?” you asked, your voice a whisper.

“Y-you do it, Y/N!” He replied, his expression not betraying the fact that he was a bit afraid.

“What? Me? Of course not! Do you suppose I believe in such buffoonery?”

“Now, now. It’s just tarot cards, what harm could it possibly do to you? Attack you with a paper cut?” Soonyoung immediately replied, even though he was the one who got frightened first.

“Soonyoung is right, Y/N,” Wonwoo joined in, though you knew he was trying to gang up on you. “Besides, you wouldn’t be so cruel to deny this poor woman an income, would you?”

You closed your eyes, and breathed in—incredibly irritated by this game Wonwoo was playing today. However, you just didn’t have the energy to pick up a fight with how your stomach was beginning to churn once again; the suppressants returning with a vengeance after the pain relievers had worn off.

“Fine then! I’ll do it,” you seethed through gritted teeth as you stood up and walked towards the old woman. “I’ll do it.”

Now much closer, you saw Madame Adora smile warmly at you, which made you feel a bit guilty for getting angry. Sighing, you turn your gaze down to the wooden desk, unable to look into her eyes.

“Boys,” the Madame suddenly called in her raspy voice. “Robert is waiting for you in the other room to look at the documents. Your friend will join you shortly.”

At this development, both Wonwoo and Soonyoung glanced at you, asking if it was alright for them to leave you. You smiled at them encouragingly. You’ll be fine. It’s just a tarot reading.

“Please don’t start without me,” you turned to them as they left the room. “I’m looking at you Kwon Soonyoung.”

Your friend simply grinned and gave you a salute. “Aye, aye!”

When the door was finally shut and you were left alone with the old woman, you glanced at her, wondering what was about to happen, or if she was going to do something.

“What’s your name, my dear?” she asked, something you hadn’t expected.

“Uh…I’m Y/N,” you soon replied, fiddling with a stray lock. You tried to deduce what the Madame was thinking, but nothing came to mind. She was eccentric and unpredictable; there was no use trying to predict the next set of events.

“Well then, please take a seat, Y/N,” she offered the armchair beside you which you quickly sat on. “Is this your first time getting a reading?”

“Yes, I…” you tried to evaluate your next words. “I’ve never been to a shop like this before.”

She simply chuckled at you, pulling out a deck of cards from a drawer. “I understand, dear. We readers are few in number, yet believe it or not, just like magical practitioners, it is necessary for us to have proper licenses.”

With the new information, you raised your brows and nodded, wondering why you haven’t known of this field before. As you continue to swim in your thoughts, Madame Adora began waving the smoking sage around the area.

Knowing your curious look, she gave a small smile. “To cleanse the space, my dear. Sometimes we carry residual energy from people, objects or situations. It is necessary to cleanse before we begin the reading, so we can only pick up your own energy.”

Nodding once more, you didn’t really know what she was talking about. You were no magi, and your knowledge of magic was limited to alchemy and potions, which was grounded more into the material world than the metaphysical.

“Alright then. What kind of reading do you wish to do?” She asked and you only gave her a blank look—completely innocent to the kind of readings a reader could perform.

Without you needing to say a word, the Madame nodded in understanding and explained it to you.

“A reading, in its base form, is a medium to provide some clarity. The Universe itself provides the answers. So if there is a question, a situation which you wish to seek clarity on, then we could begin with that.”

Even before the old woman had finished talking, your head was already turning gears and cogwheels. You wanted to ask about the syndicate and the investigative reporting you were doing, yet for some reason, a niggling feeling inside of you was telling you it wasn’t the right question to ask.

So you searched for it, concentrating on the feeling that you knew you could trust. However, at the end, you were surprised to where it had led you. You didn’t want to ask about it. It was done, it was there. It didn’t matter anymore. But you felt it. It was so strong that it made shivers creep under your skin. You know you needed to hear it.

You sighed. It’s just a tarot reading. No harm done.

“I…uh…” you gazed downwards, finding your wrist wrapped in ribbon to be quite fascinating; deciding for one last time if this was indeed the decision you were making.

“My…uh, soulmate bond.”

You were not sure if she had heard you with how small your voice sounded, but there was no way you would repeat yourself. The way you finally said those words out loud felt like some sort of acceptance; an acknowledgement that a soulmate bond existed between you and that person. Before, it felt like it was simply a figment of your imagination.

To your surprise, the Madame nodded at you, smiling proudly. “Then it shall be. Let us begin.”

You nodded back, watching as she began to expertly shuffle the cards.

“I will be doing a simple spread for you. A first card or cards would explain your energy, and then his energy. Afterwards, your strengths and weaknesses, then the state of this connection. Finally, we will be asking for the future of your soulmate connection.”

Unaware of how specific tarot can be, you only stared at her quite agile hands, not fully understanding everything.

“Please be reminded, dear that energies do change. What is shown here is simply the current energy of the soulmate bond. You and your soulmate still do have the agency to change your future, yet for now, this is what it is.”

You definitely liked the sound of that. If tarot had been in any way fatalistic, you would’ve soured on it in an instant. You always believed that you had some semblance of control over your life, or at least you wanted to.

Quietly, the Madame began drawing out cards, mostly cards which jumped out while she was shuffling. As she began to neatly arrange the cards into a grid-like form, you watched out for any reaction or expression from her. As it turned out, the most you could get was a slight raise of a brow.

When it was all done, she flipped the deck over and placed it beside the spread. Peering overing, you saw that there were a lot of cards, some were upright and the others upside down. You wondered what these all meant.

“Well then, my dear,” she spoke to you, glancing all over the spread and then nodded in understanding. “Let us begin with your energy—Eight of Swords, Queen of Swords reversed and the Hermit reversed.”

“Are those good or bad?” you asked, curious, yet the old woman simply tightened her lips.

“What I could say is that, you may seem to be trapped in your situation right now, whatever your situation may be. Look at this woman in the Eight of Swords,” she replied, holding out the card to you. “ She is blindfolded and surrounded by these swords. She seems to be trapped and imprisoned. It could be your thoughts or what you are telling yourself, as swords symbolizes our mind and how we communicate. You could be suffering from self-doubt.”

Taking in her words, you could feel a lump forming in your chest, knowing that she was indeed right.

“And then we have the Queen of Swords, which is you. When she is upright, she is a force to be reckoned with: intelligent, independent and the speaker of truth, however dear, we have her in reverse, which only shows the shadow side of this energy. The Hermit in reverse is telling me the same thing. My dear, I must apologize, yet this is what I see. As you continue to trap yourself with negative thoughts, you are slowly closing off your heart, becoming coldhearted and bitter, leading you into more loneliness and isolation. Whatever has caused you to become like this was incredibly painful that you have been pushed into fear, creating these defensive walls which then became the swords blindsiding you at this moment.”

You were silent, knowing full well what the old woman was talking about. You wanted to be angry at her for speaking a truth you were trying to avoid all this time, yet there was only sadness in your heart.

“I’m so sorry dear, but this is what the cards say, but please rest assured that your energy could still change. Considering the strengths of this connection, I have high hopes that this soulmate bond will succeed,” Madame Adora consoled you, seeing the deep hurt in your eyes.

“It’s fine,” you replied, swallowing the bile forming in your throat. “Please continue.”

Hesitantly, the Madame moved to the two cards beside the first ones she had read. “For your soulmate’s energy: the Two of Pentacles in reverse and the Hierophant.”

“As for now, your soulmate is in an imbalance. Look at how this person is trying to juggle the two pentacles in the card. He could hardly balance them at all. It could possibly be that your soulmate finds it difficult to manage their career and this connection with you, as this is a pentacles card which usually pertains to finances and the material world. Or, it could possibly be that they cannot find the balance between their traditional values and the constantly changing world with the Hierophant. Their views are definitely being challenged by you and your connection. Nevertheless, they seem to have felt your withdrawal and decided to focus on their career instead, which has now become two burdens on their shoulders.”

Making a downcast look, you felt guilty for making him feel that way. If he had indeed felt your pain through the bond, then he was no better than you. He was hurt too and the thought of you unintentionally inflicting pain on someone was something you were not keen on.

“Now then, let’s move to the strengths of this connection with the Chariot and Strength cards, which are incredibly powerful cards to have. Even this whole spread is powerful, considering how much Major Arcana you have.”

You leaned your head to the side. “Oh, is…is that so?”

“Yes. The Major Arcana holds more significance than the Minor Arcana, that is why having numerous cards from this suit could mean that this connection could be life changing for the both of you. With that said, having the Chariot and Strength implies that the both of you have a tremendous amount of strength and willpower. You and your soulmate are influential people who will stop at nothing to achieve your goals. That is why, even through all the pain and difficulties this bond will bring, this connection will survive.”

Not knowing what to make of that, you simply nodded. You were unsure if you do want this connection to survive. You hardly know your soulmate and you had no interest in doing so. You had long abandoned the idea that you will find love in a soulmate bond.

“Well now, look here, Y/N. I have been called upon to draw three cards for the weaknesses of this connection. We have the Five of Swords, the Nine of Swords in reverse and the High Priestess in reverse,” she continued, showing you the three cards.

“At this moment, there is conflict and disagreement in this connection. It could possibly be that the both of you have fought and that was the reason for your stagnant energy and his withdrawal, and with the Nine of Swords in reverse, usually this card means your anxieties and fears, and in reverse, it could be a release of those negative energies. However, in this reading, it seems like the both of you are hiding this inner turmoil in your hearts. Look at the image here,” the Madame pointed at the Nine of Swords.

“The woman is crying on her bed at night while these swords loom above her—she is crying alone, only the night is her companion, when everyone else is asleep and oblivious to her pain. In a way, you both are mirroring each other. You try to keep this conflict in your heart, making you feel disenchanted with this connection. You had lost hope of finding this love you seek. They on the other hand, try to bury themselves in their career or material possessions. They want stability and a sense of normalcy, yet cannot find it. The Universe has been providing divine guidance, yet with the High Priestess in reverse, the both of you cannot hear or perceive the signs.”

“This is further clarified with the Hanged Man and the Tower, both in reverse. These two cards represent the state of this connection, which further confirms the stagnation and fear of change in this connection. I felt this in the beginning when I was tapping to your energy, but dear, have you been blocking your soulmate bond?”

For some reason, you could only look at her and speak no words. There was fear in your eyes and guilt in your gut. It felt like you had done something unforgivable. You cast a glare to your arm, unable to utter any words of admittance.

“Dear, may I see your wrist?” Madame Adora asked softly. You were hesitant at first but eventually gave in, pulling the ribbon that was wrapped around your wrist and placed it on the table.

Gently, she examined the dull black bars on your skin as you watched curiously. You would ask what she was doing if she hadn’t begun speaking once again.

“You are in pain, dear. Deep, deep pain you need to heal from. It’s not a fresh wound, but scars inflicted from so long ago yet continuously being pried open over the years. You keep on ignoring, burying these scars, hoping that time would help it heal someday,” she said, her fingers on the marks.

“Yet when this soulmate bond came, it had forced you to face them even if you have no wish to, even if you were not ready to. This bond is making your fears rise to the surface—the fear of heartbreak and of disappointment. Thus, instead of waiting for someone else to do this to you, you decided to nip it in the bud. You try to convince yourself that you wish to be alone, that you are comfortable alone, yet deep inside you, you long for someone to share the heaviness which weighs down your heart.”

Without even realizing, you had furrowed your brows and was glaring at the offending soulmate mark on your skin. There was a feeling deep inside you which refuses to accept the old woman's words. It was too painful to acknowledge the yearning that was deeply-rooted in your heart. It was too embarrassing to say that you had made a mistake.

You were simply protecting yourself. Those scars had long healed itself. You had already cut ties with your father and that was the end of the story. There is nothing more to talk about. There was no need to face any more of this. There is no need to reconcile with your soulmate.

Gritting your teeth, you could sense anger rise deep inside of you.

“But dear let me reassure you that despite everything, you will come together in the end. For the future of this connection, you have the Two of Cups which signifies a union. It is my soulmate card because as you can see, these two people are sharing, exchanging cups—”

—!!

You slammed your fist on the table abruptly, the cards jumping in disarray. Madame Adora looked at you sadly as you snatched your wrist away, holding it close to your chest. Your eyes were burning with rage, yet the old woman knew that that anger was rooted from deep longing and sadness.

“I don’t want it,” you muttered in a low voice, and then, after a short pause, began shouting as if it would relieve the guilt in your chest. “I don’t want it! I don’t want this! Could you please leave me alone!”

Without waiting for a reply, you ran out from the room, from the shop. You were in no capacity to continue the investigation with your friends when you are in this state of instability. You just want to leave and disappear for a while.

Just for a while.

◇

Back inside the room, Madame Adora was greeted by Soonyoung and Wonwoo, who were surprised to know that you had left running out of the shop.

“Ah, did Y/N lose her temper again?” Wonwoo asked as he had heard you shouting earlier. “We must apologize, Madame.”

“No, it is I who wishes for your pardon. I must have hurt your friend,” she replied. “Please give this to her as an apology.”

The two men watched as the Madame pulled out a small box from one of the desk’s drawers and placed it on the table. They wondered what the Madame had said in the reading that made you lose composure.

“We will deliver this to her immediately,” Soonyoung replied as he took the box and dropped it inside his pocket. “And thank you for the documents.”

“It is meant for you. I had been called upon to buy the desk which it was stored in, and when you came to this shop in search for such an item, I knew it was meant for this purpose,” Madame Adora replied, intertwining her fingers together. “But more than that, please watch over Y/N.”

Both Wonwoo and Soonyoung exchanged glances. “W-we will.”

“Simply watch over her and give her support. She is going through something which only she can resolve.”

As the Madame said those words, her gaze was caught by the single card by her side. It was the card at the back of the deck—usually meant to summarize the energy of the whole reading.

It was the Lovers.

◇

It was already dreadfully dark when you had decided to return to your dorm room.

The wisteria trees were already a midnight grey, the unlit path, a dark purple. Only a few streetlamps offered illumination through the pitch-black night as you waded through the campus in silence.

You took your time alone—wandering on random alleyways, sitting on deserted park benches, watching people pass by as they live their own lives, with their own problems. Nothing seemed real during those hours of isolation in the midst of the crowd. It was like the pain was too far away for you to reach; the events from that afternoon too far away to be reality.

Yet you knew you needed to return somehow. Thus, with eyes exhausted from crying tears unshed, and the ribbon you used to conceal your soulmate bond in your hands, you opened the door to your dorm room and saw its gauche splendor in shameless display.

With a sigh, you wrapped the ribbon on your wrist haphazardly, not caring if not seemed sloppy as long as the black bars were far from your sight.

Walking to the common room, you scanned the area for your roommate, wondering if he was asleep or still at his office on a Friday night. It would be better if you didn’t see him, you thought. There would be less explaining to do.

Yet the common room was depressingly empty. It had occurred to you that you never even spent much time in there as much as you would’ve liked. Was it simply because you were avoiding him or you were just not interested in sharing the same space with him, you didn’t know.

As you move past the wooden dining table and towards the kitchenette for a glass of water, you bumped into something fleshy and soft which definitely made you shriek and fall onto the floor in a painful thud.

“What…on earth?” you muttered, gradually coming down from your sudden adrenaline rush, your sight refocusing.

To your astonishment, you found one Lee Jihoon lying on the floor, obviously drunk by the whisky which was once inside the bottle he was clinging on to for dear life. Apprehensively, you crawled towards him, to check if he was still breathing. Yet before you could touch him, his dark brown eyes were on to you, still cold and jaded as the nights of December.

“Jihoon—“

You were about to reprimand him for bringing in prohibited alcohol inside the dorms and for sleeping on the floor during a cold autumn day, when you realized that his skin was red. Bright red.

Concern immediately shoots up to your brain as you reach out to him.

“Jihoon!” You exclaimed, shaking him to sobriety. “Jihoon! Are you intolerant to alcohol?”

Despite your concern, he could only hum groggily. “It’s…fine.”

“What do you mean ‘it’s fine’? How many bottles have you drunk?!” You asked, looking around and saw several bottles of the same whisky he was holding. “Oh god, you even chose one with high alcohol content! You shouldn’t be drinking this.”

“It’s…fine, Y/N. I only had a few… just a few…”

He simply groaned in reply, lying comfortably on the floor without a care in the world. You only stared at him in exasperation, brushing your hair as you sighed.

You felt an urge to just leave him like that on the floor until dawn breaks. He can take care of himself, and being drunk probably isn’t something new to him. Yet you knew you can’t just do that. Whether or not he was Lee Jihoon, you had the obligation to not leave him to die of alcohol poisoning or of hypothermia.

The last one was a stretch, you admit but still, there was no way you could leave him like that as someone who tries to be compassionate at every point of day. At least, the sofa was a lot better than the cold floor.

Reaching for his arm and placing it around your shoulders, you tried to carry Jihoon to the sofa just a few steps away. Yet you hadn’t anticipated how heavy he actually was as you barely dragged him across the room, huffing and panting. You were not one with the best fitness

“Come on, Jihoon. Hold yourself up! You’re simply too heavy for me to carry!” You exclaimed as you tried not to stumble on the way.

“Mmn…I’m sorry...I’m trying…” he drawled, his eyes half-lidded and unfocused—obvious indications that he has drunk too much for his own good.

Just a little bit…

Taking that one step remaining, you immediately tossed Jihoon to the soft sofa with a long and exhausted sigh. He only groaned, his hair in a disarray. You had only noticed now that he still had his work clothes on: a grey suit piece sans the tie which he must’ve tossed somewhere in the immediate past.

He had his eyes closed as you sat closely to him, watching his chest rise and fall with every breath. Jihoon seemed to be in peace this way, far from the constant creases in his brow or on his lips. Brushing away a stray lock of hair from his face, you noticed the angles on his face, the fullness of his cheeks, the rosiness of his lips. Was he always this familiar to you? It was a question you had no immediate answers to. Yet you had never anticipated to end your exhausting day with a drunk Lee Jihoon, yet that’s where you are now.

“I should give him some medicine to ease the redness,” you muttered to yourself as you stood up, your mind already listing the ingredients you needed to make one tablet, but before you did, a hand had stopped you in your tracks.

“Please…don’t leave me,” his voice, still lethargic, echoed behind you and you were forced to turn, your eyes captured by his unrelenting gaze.

“Jihoon…” you spoke softly, returning to your seat beside him as you helped him sit up clumsily. “But you’re still flushing.”

“Doesn’t matter…” he replied back, leaning unsteadily until you caught him in your arms. Now he was peacefully resting his head on your shoulder, burying himself into your embrace.

“J-Jihoon…?”

To say that you were wholly surprised was an understatement. You were floundering and unable to make anything out of this situation. This was something incredibly out of character for the Lee Jihoon you thought you knew.

“Y/N…I must….must apologize,” he began, which definitely made you furrow your brows in bewilderment. “I’m so sorry… I—I failed you…”

You stared into the air incredulously, not understanding what page Jihoon was in.

“You didn’t fail me,” you replied back. “You didn’t fail anyone, Jihoon…”

However, it seemed like your words fell into deaf ears as he snuggled up to you, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“I’m so sorry…Y/N…please…please forgive me…”

Concluding that this was probably one drunk confession, you allowed him to find comfort in your presence, placing a consoling hand on his back as he continued to apologize to you.

This was a side to him you hadn’t expected to see. It was vulnerable, raw and unapologetically real—words you never thought you’d associate with Lee Jihoon. Yet there you were, as you hugged him back, finding solace in his arms as well when there was no one in the world you could share your burdens with.

“It’s okay, Jihoon…” you replied to him as you closed your eyes. “At least you tried, and it’s good enough for me.”

“Yet…yet…why can’t I feel you…?” he cried out, his voice clearly in pain. “Why can’t I reach you…? I…I always…alwaysss wanted to know you…to hold you like this…”

“Jihoon…”

You wished there was something you could say or do, yet you didn’t even know what he was talking about. It felt like the two of you were talking in a circle of riddles; finding yourselves in different pages.

“Y/N…please don’t be angry…please….please….don’t reject me,” he continued on as if in a trance. “I’m so sorry….so sorryyy….”

There was something in his words, or the way his voice shook that had pierced right through you. You wondered what you had done to him to plead to you like this. Yes, you did push him away a few weeks ago, yet that was the farthest you had gone to hurt him. You couldn’t understand what was happening, nevertheless, you still felt called upon to take action.

Moving your hand, you brushed his soft locks gently.

“I won’t reject you, Jihoon. I won’t push you away. I promise you.”

◇

PARLIAMENT PASSES BILL CRACKING DOWN ON CILVEKAN NATIONALS by Jeon Wonwoo

The Porta Persa Edition, October 27th

In a historic vote, the Parliament has passed a bill on harsher travel restrictions for Cilvekan nationals as well as an extensive program which allows for the investigation of all Cilvekans in Porta Persa. This bill marks a tantamount win on Rep. Kang Jinho and his Conservative party—warranting a speculation of a bid on the Prime Minister seat.

This soon-to-be law highlights restrictions set on the amount of Cilvekan nationals leaving and entering Porta Persa wherein local governments can monitor their actions inside the country. It is also in the prerogative of the local government to deny entry to any Cilvekan wishing to enter. According to Rep. Kang, it is necessary to be able to detect any sort of preemptive strike against Porta Persa to avoid endangering the security of the people.

This bill also boasts a program which, in conjunction with the restrictions, shall implement a vast inspection of all Cilvekan nationals present in the country. They are to undergo a thorough investigation conducted by the police and shall be warranted to arrests if ill-intentions against Porta Persa is proven.

With this bill, according to the Parliament, the government shall be able to ensure that the national security of Porta Persa shall not be threatened by any means, even if it meant sacrificing privacy and material gains. Sacrifice is and always will be inevitable on the road to peace…

◇

In the pitch black darkness of the night, echoes of footfalls resounded across the streets of Porta Persa. There was breaking of glass, breaking of wood, and shouts of women.

Fear was high in the scent of the night. The streets of Porta Pera enshrined by men and women—rounded up in handcuffs and tied by accusations. Half the town was awake and afraid, half the town asleep and aloof.

The night had just began.

-Hyeri

#seventeen #svtcreations #caratwritersclub #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen woozi #lee jihoon #woozi #the most convenient escape

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witchcraft-in-wonderland · 5 years ago

Text

The Prince and the Baker (Pt.6)

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

"Good morning stormcloud!" said Prince Roman, leaning over the railing of the pen, where Virgil was balancing in cat form. Roman ran a hand down Virgil's back, eliciting a tired purr.

"Still a little to early for you, huh?" Roman inquired. Virgil nodded and rubbed his head under Roman's hand, before hopping off of the fence and shifting back. He was immeadietly engulfed in Roman's arms, the scent of his cologne was intoxicating.

"I replaced the chicken feed, what you were giving them wasnt nearly good enough for egg production," Virgil said, when he finally managed to detach himself from Roman.

"You've got a good eye little stormcloud," Roman said, flashing a grin.

"Its more animal instinct than anything," Virgil responded. He opened the pen door and walked inside.

"Alright! Who wants food!" Virgil said, emptying a bucket of feed into a trough. He backed into a corner as the animals flooded over, and put the food for the pigs in their trough from the other side of the fence. He opened the gate again to walk to the chicken coop and began gathering up the eggs.

"Bit busy for so early in the morning hm?" Roman said, still smiling.

"I guess you could say so, and quit smiling at me like that," Virgil said, pulling his hood up to hide his face.

"Embarassed, hm?" Roman said as Virgil passed him.

"Maybe, what's it to you," Virgil shrugged him off as he placed the eggs in the window of Patton's bakery.

"Do you want to take a break?" and suddenly Virgil's body was pressed against Roman's, an arm over his chest, holding a bouquet of the reddest roses he'd ever seen.

"Are you- asking me on a date?" Virgil's voice wavered hesitantly.

"Of course I am! I thought we established this already," Roman said. Virgil's face flushed further.

"You mean we've- in the garden- was that- did you-" he managed to sputter out.

"Of course that was a date my darling! What else would it have been?" Roman said. Virgil felt faint.

"Well I suppose I wouldnt mind a little time away," Virgil said, smiling slightly. Roman sweeped him off his feet, he squeaked slightly and shrunk against Roman's chest.

Roman took him to a small clearing in the garden and set him down on a blanket before bringing out a basket of food.

"Your brother helped me make this," Roman said, setting out all manner of sweets and delicacies.

Virgil picked a slice of sweet bread off of a plate and began to eat.

"I think its wonderful," Virgil said, smiling. Roman returned the expression tenfold.

"I'm glad you like it little stormcloud," he said, using his thumb to wipe the crumbs off of Virgil's face. Virgil laughed slightly and turned his face away.

It was nearly nightfall when they decided to pack up and head home.

"Today's been fun hasnt it?" said Roman happily.

"Yeah, yeah it has," Virgil leaned his head on Roman's arm.

They'd been walking for an hour or two around the garden when a sudden noise caused Virgil to stop in his tracks. Roman took out a sword and held Virgil close to himself.

"Relax Princey, I'm not here to take anyone," said a voice Virgil didn't recognize. Roman's grip on him tightened.

"What do you want, Presley, you're supposed to be in exile," Roman coldly.

"Well what I want is the crown, but you dont seem inclined to give that up, so I think I'd rather have some fun screwing up everything else about your life," said Presley. Virgil felt his limbs grow cold.

"R-Roman? What's going on? Who is he?" Virgil pressed himself closer to Roman in an attempt to warm up.

"No one important, just a liar and a cheat who got kicked out because he couldnt control his ego," Roman said venomously.

"Dont be like that Ro, it's not me your words are hurting," said Presley, and Virgil felt himself go numb with pain. He let out a whine and shrunk further into Roman's arms.

"What did you do to him!" Roman shouted. Presley merely laughed and disappeared, and Virgil's vision went black.

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

Tag List:

@official-lucifers-child

@oceanart123

@spooky-scary-virgil

@youtuberswithalex

@misunderstoodshadowling

@i-need-you-buddy

@somehow-i-got-an-account

#cori writes #baker au #romantic prinxiety #prinxiety #ts roman #ts virgil #ts patton #tw violence #tw angst #sympathetic patton #sympathetic roman #sympathetic virgil

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shadedrose01 · 5 years ago

Text

Sick Boy

Ship: Parkner (Harley Keener/Peter Parker)

Summary: Jax gets the stomach flu. Peter and Harley take care of him.

Tags: Febufluff, Day 9, sick days, Sickness, stomach flu, Vomiting, Jax is back!!, Jax is Peter and Harleys son, parenting, Peter Parker and Harley Keener are good dads, Established Relationship, Husbands, Love, Family, Family Fluff

Day nine of Febufluff: "Sick Day"!

WARNING: This story contains sickness, and talking about vomiting. There is a scene where Jax throws up. It isn't super graphic, but it's there, so if you dont like vomiting, don't read! Be safe, be comfortable, know your limits. Love y'all <3

Peter sat in a meeting when he got the call. He was tapping his pen against his paper absentmindedly, barely listening to the businessman drone on endlessly about stocks and numbers and whatever else he was saying, before his phone began to vibrate in his pocket, hard enough to be felt but not loud enough to disrupt the meeting, thankfully.

It immediately sets Peter on alert though, because his phone was put on to Do Not Disturb, and only three things can push a call through when that's on: Harleys phone, Karen in case of severe emergency... and Jax's phone. None of those options sounded very good, so Peter pulls out the device quickly, making sure to keep it under the desk, still trying to keep his disturbance to a minimum.

Jax's school. Shit. Not the worst thing possible, but still not a good sign. Peter's mind swirls with what could've happened as he motions to one of his coworkers that he's stepping out, picking up the call as soon as he's out the door. Did he get hurt? It wouldn't surprise Peter, Jax could be clumsy. Or he could've gotten into a fight, but that doesnt seem like his Jaxy. Maybe he's being bullied, maybe-

"Hi, is this Peter Parker-Keener?" The callers tone is sickly sweet, and it's already grating on Peter's frayed nerves.

"Yes, it is. Is Jax okay?" He blurts out before he can stop himself, knowing that hes sounding like the stereotypical helicopter parent, constantly worried, but he doesn't care.

The women laughs lightly under her breath, barely noticable to the normal ear but very noticable to Peter, who grits his teeth to stop himself from snapping at the poor woman. She sobers up pretty quickly as she responds, voice softening, "Jax appears to have the stomach flu. Would you be able to come pick him up, Mr. Parker-Keener?"

Peter's stomach drops at the news, his heart aching. Oh, his poor baby. He looks back towards the room he just left, and knows the meeting is important, knows he shouldn't leave unless it's an emergency, but- but family comes first. Always. He nods unconsciously, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, yeah of course, I'll be there as soon as possible."

He hangs up the phone and sighs loudly, rubbing at his forehead as a headache starts to form, a pressure building behind his eyes. He types out a quick message to his coworker and to Harley, updating them both on the situation before making his way to his car.

As soon as he shuts the car door, and the car starts up, a call is already lighting up his screen. He automatically puts it through, pulling out of the garage and speeding towards the school.

"Is he okay?" His husband's voice is coated with concern, not even bother with a hello as he gets straight to the point, showing Peter just how worried he truly is. Peter wants to laugh at their overprotectiveness (it's their first and only child, give them a break), but now is definitely not the time.

"I'm not sure, I'm on my way to pick him up now." Peter answers honestly, looking over his shoulder before changing lanes, counting down the minutes until he gets there.

"Do you want me to come too?" He can hear shuffling on the other side, as if Harley was already packing his things.

Peter sighs, fianlly seeing the brick school in the distance. "No, I'm here now. Maybe meet us back home?" He adds on the last part, knowing Harley won't be able to go back to work now.

"Yeah," Harleys voice is still worried, but theres a tinge of relief there now, knowing he's going to be able to help. "Yeah, okay. I'll see you there. Love you."

Peter echoes it back just as he parks, the call ending just as he shuts the car off, exiting it just as quickly as he entered.

He rushes to the main desk, seeing the secretary who Peter guesses is the same person that called him earlier. "Hi, I'm here for Jax Parker-Keener?"

The woman looks up, and smiles a plastic smile that doesnt reach her eyes. "Of course, I just need you to sign him out real quick," Peter fills out the form quickly, antsy to get to his boy, and hands it back to her, "and the nurses office is just down the hallway, first door to the left."

"Thank you," he pushes out before speed walking to the specified door, opening it quickly. His nose scrunches up as the acidic smell of vomit floods his sense, and he swallows the urge to gag, his heart breaking when his eyes land on the little lump curled up on the couch.

Jax has his arms wrapped around his stomach, and his face is all crunched up, eyes closed and beads of sweat on his brow. Hes groaning quietly, squirming slightly, and there's a bucket placed right next to his face that looks likes it already been used. He looks smaller than he has in months, than he has in years.

"Oh baby," Jax blinks his eyes open as soon as the words are out of his mouth, the forest green hazy, barely focusing as he squints at Peter.

"Daddy?"

As soon as Peter hears that croak of a voice, hes on the move, kneeling down in front of his baby and brushing the hair off of his forehead. "Yeah, it's me, bug."

"I don't feel good." He moans, starting to squirm again, and Peter's heart is shattered, stomped into dust, longing to take away all of his son's pain.

"I know, sweetheart, I know. We're gonna go home now, okay?"

The five year old blinks up at him again, eyes widening with the purest, innocent hope and partial excitement, even though the haze of sickness. "Really?"

Peter gives him a small, sad smile, running a hand through his hair again. "Yeah, baby, we're going home. Come on," He presses a light kiss to his sticky forehead, before pulling him up and into his arms, Jax's body instinctually clinging to his front like a koala, just like he used to when he was a baby, when he was a toddler. Peter holds him up easily, his tiny body nothing to his super strength, and nods once to the nurse who was watching the scene with warm, kind eyes. "Thank you." He mumbles to him quietly, before walking out towards his car, pressing Jax to his chest tightly, protectively.

The ride to their apartment is quiet, quieter than it should be. Jax seems to take after him in the talking sense, he'll talk on and on and on about anything and everything, so to hear him so silent, so quiet...

Just as they pull into the garage, Jax finally speaks up, but what he says makes what's left of Peter's heart stop. "Daddy, I really don't feel good."

"You think you're gonna throw up, buddy?" Peter parks the car in a random spot as he speaks, already scavenging for the plastic bag he knows is by his passengers seat somewhere. The only responce he gets is a wet burp, and Peter scrambles even more, grabbing the plastic bag as soon as it touches his fingers and putting it under Jax's head just in time.

The five year old is gagging, sputtering and sobbing into the plastic bag, looking so pitifully sad, and Peter makes a noise of sympathy, wishing he could do more to help, to make it all go away. But realistically, all he can do is rub the boy's back, and whisper soothing things. "Its okay, bud, let it all out, it's alright."

Once the episode has passed and Jax leans back from the bag, Peter grabs the sleeve of his dress shirt and wipes off his face gently, both of tears and of vomit, knowing that he's staining the shirt but not really caring in the moment. He then ties the bag up, and gets out of the car, unclipping Jax and picking him up again, swaying him gently as he continues to whine and sniffle, shushing him softly.

When they make it up to the apartment, Harley is already there, waiting for them, looking anxious. As soon as his sky blue eyes find Jax, attached to Peter's hip, his entire face softens with sympathy and tenderness. "Hey bubba."

"Papa!" Jax whimpers, bottom lip stuck out and wobbling, face red and tear stained. He holds out a hand, and Harley moves instantly, taking him from Peter's grip and hugging him tightly, bouncing him slowly.

"Shh, I got ya, tesoro." He murmurs quietly, shifting his hold before looking up at Peter with a small smile, already tired eyes. "Hey. I picked up some medicine on the way over here." He nods his head back towards the kitchen, before leaning it against Jax's, holding him a little closer.

"You're a lifesaver." Peter responds, pecking him quickly on the lips before walking to the kitchen to get the medicine ready.

"You're only figuring that out now?" Peter just rolls his eyes at his husband's cheekiness, laughing lightly.

He pours out the medicine, and Jax takes it with very little fuss (read: a few more whines and a few split tears), before they all cuddle together on to the couch, turning on on a movie. Not even ten minutes in, Jax let's out a big yawn, snuggling in closer to Harleys hip, his eyes half lidded, and another ten minutes later, he's out like a light. Peter isn't surprised, it's been a long day for the poor boy. He looks up, and sees Harley staring down at him too, a warm glow to his eyes, a smile tilting his lips. Peter just presses a kiss to his husband's forehead, and shuffles closer, placing his head onto his shoulder.

This day may not have got according to plan, but with his husband and his son at his side, he wouldn't want it any other way.

#febufluff #Febufluff #Sick Day #sickness #vomiting #Jax Parker-Keener #Harley Keener #Peter Parker #Parkner #Parley #harley keener/peter parker #day 9

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bytemycupcakes · 4 years ago

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No no no

Heres the problem here

Im not saying ANYTHING about reblogs.

Reblogs are USEFUL. Retweets are USEFUL. Those get my work out there to others.

Honestly if this massive spam had the occasional reblog in it I wouldnt have been as mad as I was.

LIKES DO NOT HELP. Im not wanting to go on a massive tangent about all of this, but it seems I apparently fucking have to because yall dont understand what Im saying.

Likes dont share my content (Okay on twitter they kinda do but we're talking tumblr). Likes are essentially a private archive. Likes always read as "Hey I like this thing, but I dont think its good enough to share with others" to me. Every time. And yes I know some people can make likes public but be honest, who actually goes through someone elses likes? I know I dont, I know several people dont.

I dont have a massive issue with likes. This whole thing was LIKE SPAMMING. Where I am getting hundreds of notifs in a short time from ONE PERSON who most of the time doesnt even FOLLOW me.

My followers are NOT a problem here. Liking my posts casually is NOT a problem. The problem is some rando flooding my notifs.

If someone tagged me in a post while they were doing this, I would have no idea. My notifications are a sea of "[blank] liked your text post" and "[blank] liked your photo post". Unless I want to spend a good 5 minutes scrolling through that sea, I can end up missing something important. Something someone may want to see.

By all means, scroll through my blog, like the ocassional post and PLEASE reblog some, but when you're liking things at a rate where I can fucking TELL youre not even reading the damn post, theres a problem.

#baizli's asks :0)#anon you didnt need to unfollow I promise you

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yeoldontknow · 5 years ago

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an update and some food for thought

hi friends. this will be the only time i will address the things that have gone on the last 24 hours on this blog. i do not, under any circumstances, enjoy drama or attempt to invite it to this space. my blog is meant to be a place of positivity, creativity, expression, safety, and conversation. it is not a place where i welcome negativity or harassment, and i certainly dont like having my friends or followers feel put in a position to defend me. im aware i did not ask them to, but who i am as a person doesnt actually like being the center of this kind of attention. and that is why i am saying the following once, and only once so that this conversation can stop.

i am putting my thoughts under a cut because i dont want to clog dashes.

balls deep, as with all my stories, was written from a place of fantasy. there is, quite honestly, nothing real about it. logistically, it makes no sense. hygienically, it makes no sense. but it is a fantasy of what if, an exaggeration of a very real kink i have. this is not to say i am unaware of the questionable morality of the setting, nor am i glossing over the very obvious problems of the location. and most of all, i absolutely do not condone the themes of that story. what i am saying, is that i walked into writing the story knowing that some would be uncomfortable with it. as with anything i write, i dont write to fulfill a large, broad group with perpetually safe topics. i write to experiment, i write to explore, and i write to learn. you can call this experimentation a failure, but i was very happy with it. i have never ever written anything like that before, and it is a stepping stone to other things i want to write. does this mean those types of settings will be used again? i cant really say. what i can say is that there are other, more morally ambiguous ideas i want to explore when it comes to sex, kinks, and emotions, and while i absolutely can see the perspective of the anons who voiced their concerns with me, i wanted the opportunity to voice my own.

this did not happen due to a number of anons that offered absolutely no constructive criticism or feedback. there were only three anons out of 27 that wanted to offer opinions about how this story made them feel, about how the structure or setting could have been different. the rest? told me i deserved to die. that i was a pedophile. that i need to go to prison. that i deserved to be banned from tumblr and writing altogether. that i was a disgusting excuse for human being. that it was offensive id even suggest they read the story. but, i never ever expect everyone to read what i write. the story was properly warned and tagged and the moodboard is a visual of where the story heads. now, i dont ever want to say a person shouldnt read what i write. i love giving the benefit of the doubt, and i love learning how others with the same kinks as me feel about what i write. if they genuinely were into the warnings, and read and saw something that was inherently wrong, i was ready to talk about it. but i got none of that. instead, i was met with majority harassment and hate.

the anons i received that voiced concerns were exciting for me, and taught me a valuable lesson. i was able to see their reasoning behind some of the issues they had, and went back and edited some of the dialogue to mitigate the concerns. and even though the story was properly warned, moving forward i will be changing my warning methods. i am still deciding how this will look, how deep i will want to go, but im astutely aware of the very real triggers this may have roused in some readers, and i want to make sure - in the effort of maintaining this safe space - that those kinds of responses dont happen again with my readers, friends, or strangers. my intention with anything i write is to inspire, to encourage conversation or criticism, and to explore methods of self-expression - no matter how wrong or uncomfortable. hero, for example, contains incredibly triggering themes - chapters 7 and 13 spring immediately to mind. brooklyn is burning also contains some pretty irresponsible smut and triggering themes. and my upcoming work for joyride & finesse will also be extremely triggering. so the responses i did receive from respectful anons was considerate and helpful for me.

again, i want to make clear i am not glossing over the setting. if anything, the types of settings included in public sex kinks range from places like this to other, more open spaces. amusement parks. parks in general. fairs. ive even read a story that took place in a bouncy castle. kink, in many cases, intersects with fantasy - it is a kink because we want to try it or think about it, feel excitement from it, but are told we morally shouldnt and therefore it becomes regarded as a kink. the term kink itself contains a range of definitions, including sexual perversion, participation in uncommon sex acts, and non-traditional sex acts. that’s just scratching the surface. in order for me to grow as a writer its important i branch out and try things not everyone will enjoy or approve of - sometimes, things not even i would approve of. so i thank those anons for voicing their opinions - it was an excellent litmus test for the rest of my days on tumblr.

but for those who thought spouting hate and vitriol my way would be an effective way of telling me never to try something, i am sorry. i cannot let you win. ive said before the readership on my blog is important to me, and i am fully aware i have been called a role model or an inspiration to young writers. if they see someone like me, someone much older and confident in their skills, let someone harass them into silence, that is worse to me than upsetting a handful of people. so no, you did not win.

balls deep has been edited and will be posted again sometime this week, in its new form. anon asks will remain off. because if you want to voice your concerns, i want to speak with you and see you. i want a real conversation, not hate.

thank you all for your flood of warm, kind, and supportive messages. i really am thankful for the ambush of support that has stemmed from this. from now to eternity however, i am seeking mature conversations and helpful, considerate feedback. that is how you foster an open, expressive community. i love all of you to the moon and back.

#psa

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metaphorical-love-for-a-car · 6 years ago

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Marry You-- Joe Mazzello x Reader

Request; “How about a joe mazzello based on the song marry you by Bruno Mars? Idk” ( @hi-i-dont-know )

Warnings; some language, the song is fem! specific but the story itself isn’t

Word Count; 1.8k

Notes; sorry it's taken me so long to get around to this lol

You couldn’t believe it. You had worked so hard for so long, and you finally did it. Here you were, standing on a stage, accepting an award at a prestigious ceremony. People were clapping, and cameras were everywhere. Never in a million years did you expect this to happen.

You stuttered through your acceptance speech before scurrying back to your seat. The rest of the awards ceremony seemed to go by in a haze as you continued to try to wrap your mind around the evening. You were in desperate need of a drink, and the after party couldn’t come soon enough.

Dozens of people came up to congratulate you, and you only recognized about half of them. You quickly gulped down your drinks in an attempt to make yourself calm down. It wasn’t the wisest idea, but it was all you could do besides leaving the party, which you obviously didn’t want to do. You were tipsy, borderline drunk, and still feeling overwhelmed. That’s when he decided to approach you. The last thing you needed was your childhood celebrity crush to show up, but that’s exactly what happened.

Your first introduction to Joe Mazzello was when you watched Radio Flyer shortly after it came out, then you saw him again in Jurassic Park. Your younger self thought he was cute, thus your childhood crush formed. As years went on and the two of you started to become more successful in the world of entertainment, you had met each other once or twice, but it was always in passing. Neither of you really spoke to each other much. The most interaction the two of you had was via social media, occasionally liking each other’s posts.

Needless to say, you were worried about embarrassing yourself because you had too much alcohol in your system for your mind to properly function, and it didn’t help that you continued to drink. “I’m sure you’re going to be sick of hearing this by the end of the night, but congratulations!” Joe flashed you a bright smile. You laughed before thanking him. “Mind if I sit?” He nodded his head towards the empty stool next to yours. You shook your head.

“No, not at all!” Joe sat, and the two of you chatted about basic stuff, like ‘Have you tried the shrimp? It’s pretty good!’ or ‘I’ve been going ninety-to-nothing tonight and can’t wait to finally get home.’ You normally felt awkward during small talk, but this was nice. Maybe it was just the alcohol that was making this feel so comfortable. Maybe it was just his charming personality. Either way, you didn’t care. You were enjoying it.

“Hope I’m not bothering you. I’m sure a ton of other people would like to talk to you.” You scoffed at Joe’s comment and dramatically rolled your eyes.

“Oh, please! I’m having way more fun talking to you than I would have if I were talking to some of them. Besides, it’s not every day that you get to hang out with your age-old celebrity crush.” You brought your glass to your lips and froze. Did you seriously just say that out loud? No, surely not. You weren’t that drunk, right? You slowly lowered the glass, glancing over at Joe. Shit. You did say it out loud. His mouth was open, looking shocked. And his cheeks were red.

“You... wait. I’m your celebrity crush?” You felt the heat rising to your face and nodded. He ran a hand through his hair. “No fucking way. This is crazy. You’ve been my celebrity crush since we first met at that movie premiere a few years ago,” Joe said enthusiastically, very much resembling a child telling their friends about the cool toy they got for Christmas. You covered your mouth in an attempt to stifle your laughter. Joe’s brows knitted together, but his goofy grin remained. “I’m serious!”

“This is too good to be true. It sounds like something out of a fanfiction book on Wattpad or Tumblr.” Joe laughed, stating his agreement. He suddenly grabbed your hand. His eyes were wide and mischief danced across his features.

“I’ve got an awesome idea, and it’ll really make life like a fanfic.” You pursed your lips, eyeing him suspiciously.

“What’re you planning, Joe?”

“It’s a surprise! Now, where’s the closest Walmart?”

Who cares if we're trashed Got a pocket full of cash we can blow Shots of Patron And it's on girl

The two of you managed to find an Uber at the ungodly hour of the morning it was. People gave you odd looks when you first walked into the store. Some because they recognized the two of you, and some because you were both in incredibly formal attire... while drunk shopping in Walmart. You headed straight towards the candy, and Joe disappeared. As you were paying for the mountain of candy in your arms, you felt someone tap on your shoulder. It was Joe, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “You okay?” you snickered, grabbing the plastic bag from the worker before thanking her.

'Cause it's a beautiful night, we're looking for something dumb to do Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you Is it the look in your eyes or is it this dancing juice Who cares baby, I think I wanna marry you

“Actually, there’s something important I want to ask you.” You raised a brow at him, and he took a deep breath. When Joe got down on one knee, your jaw dropped. He pulled out a ring that had a little silver frog on top, its back made of a green gem. “Let’s continue with the fanfiction themed night, shall we?” You laughed, nodding. Joe beamed up at you and slid the ring onto your finger.

“Is this actually happening right now?” you asked in between laughs. Joe shrugged.

“Dunno. That sounds like something for our sober selves to figure out. Wanna check out the Redbox movies?”

I'll go get a ring Let the choir bell sing like ooh So what you wanna do Let's just run girl If we wake up and you want to break up That's cool No, I won't blame you It was fun girl

Your head was pounding. Bringing a hand to your face, you rubbed your eyes before squinting them open. How much did you drink last night? You could hardly remember a thing... that is until you realized you weren’t in your hotel room, nor were you alone. An arm was wrapped around your waist, and the person’s head was nuzzled against your back. Fucking shit. Your mind was reeling, trying to remember what had happened. A part of your mind tried to rationalize that maybe you didn’t hook up with someone. After all, you were still dressed. Then again... the sweats and baggy shirt didn’t belong to you.

You were worried about waking whoever was beside you. You were desperate to avoid any awkward and embarrassing interactions. Slowly reaching out, you went to pull your phone off of the bedside table. That’s when you noticed the ring. Your breath got caught in your throat as a sudden sense of urgency flooded your system. You tried to turn your phone on, but a black screen stared back at you. Of course, it was dead. Well, there was only one thing you could do. You started peeling yourself from the person’s grasp. As you did, the person stirred. When you were finally able to turn and look at them, it felt like someone dumped a bucket of rocks into your stomach. “Damn... my head’s killin’ me,” Joe groaned while rubbing his face. Your mouth open and closed. You couldn’t think of anything to say. Joe removed his hands, finally meeting your gaze. His eyes widened. “Oh my god...” was all the could muster up.

“Joe, what the hell happened last night?” You showed him your hand, and his face reddened.

“Well... I-- uh-- don’t remember much. I don’t think we had sex, but I don’t know about that.” He pointed at the ring. Joe quickly sat up, snatching his phone from the floor. Thankfully, it had been charging.

He had multiple missed calls and unopened text messages from his friends, most of which said something along the lines of ‘Joe, what the hell is going on? Is this real?’ Joe swiped through his camera roll, but most of the pictures were goofy selfies or short videos of the two of you wandering around Walmart. It didn’t really offer much information. You suggested looking through your social media accounts. Lo and behold, it was the jackpot. Your twitter was filled with cringe-worthy levels of cheesy and sappy pickup lines, all of which had Joe tagged in them. He responded to a few, but his replies only consisted of various heart emojis. Joe’s Instagram story had dozens of photos and videos of you two, most of which you had already seen in his camera roll. Then there was one post that had the caption ‘I liked it so I put a ring on it (guess we’re engaged now)’, and you had commented ‘#couplegoals’. You decided to take a look into your own Instagram account, clicking through the story photos you remembered posting. When it finally got to something new, you couldn’t help the butterflies that formed in your chest.

It was a video of Joe, laying in bed next to you. Your head was on his chest, and you had an arm draped across his torso. You were out cold, and Joe had a soft smile on his face. “(Y/N) fell asleep in the middle of our Night At The Museum marathon, so I decided to hack their insta.” He glanced down at you, his smile growing even wider. “They’re so adorable, even when they’re snoring like a freight train. But don’t let them know that I told you guys that,” he said the last part with a serious expression. Joe pressed a kiss to the top of your head, then the video ended.

“So I guess we got engaged,” you mumbled, examining the little frog ring on your finger. “We know that much happened.”

“What now?” Joe asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You glanced at him, and he was idly tracing a pattern into the bed’s comforter.

“Well, first, I think we should get some breakfast. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Then maybe we could start with a date and see how that goes?” Joe looked up, meeting your gaze. A smile spread across his lips.

“I like that plan.”

Don't say no no no no no Just say yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah And we'll go go go go go If you're ready, like I'm ready

Just say I do Tell me right now baby Tell me right now baby, baby Just say I do Tell me right now baby Tell me right now baby, baby

Tag List;

@mothermercuryy @mmmmmitslikeadiseaseson

#request #joe mazzello #joe mazello x reader #joe mazzello imagine #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody x reader

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hellomissmabel · 6 years ago

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Et coronam florum (III)

MASTERLIST

Pairings: Forest spirit!Bucky x wicca!reader

Warnings: Death.

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: Every spring, the forest spirits come to collect three gifts. These gifts allow the spirits to restore a part of your soul from a past life. But Y/N doesn’t believe in this tradition anymore and one year, the spirits take her with them into the forest.

A/N: I have the flu but managed to post it :) Written for @bithors

Series masterlist can be found here

After you’ve closed your eyes, you open them again in the meadow near to the royal castle. You’d expected Bucky to bring your sleeping body to the edge of the forest, but he has been so kind as to take you as far as your new home on the other end of the realm. A blush rises to your cheeks with a warm feeling as you think about it.

When you’re welcomed back at the palace, a worried prince awaits you in your bedroom. He is happy to see you again and wraps you up in his arms, kissing you chastely. “I was worried I’d have to cancel the wedding because you wanted to stay in the forest,” he jokes with a soft smile and another tender peck to the lips. You don’t have the heart to tell him the truth.

As another year flies by, you grow accustomed to your life as a princess and you realise you’ve suddenly got more than three things to be grateful for. For instance your husband Steve, who will make a fine ruler one day and a great father in less than nine months. You have your friends and your brother, who is now also living in the castle.

The people of the realm love you and they understand how important the work you do is. In the past year, you’ve successfully re-introduced the forest to them. The flowers around the forest are thriving and after a heavy storm flooded most of the land surrounding the magical forest, you and the people of your realm worked together into restoring the nature of your kingdom. Something your mother would be very proud of.

So when spring comes around again, you’re the first in line to see Bucky and the other forest spirits again. You’re impatient because you have no idea how he’ll react, but you’re also proud as you’ve now got three gifts with you whereas in the past two years you only had one. Steve senses your excitement yet believes it’s for a different reason. He still doesn’t know that your heart will always yearn for the existence of a forest spirit and the man you’ve come to desire so secretly.

Darkness falls over the entrance of the forest and you immediately feel there’s something wrong. Firstly, all the spirits should’ve been here by now to collect the gifts and give their blessings. Secondly and more importantly, this side of the forest is a long way removed from the darker areas of the woods. This type of darkness is unfamiliar and frankly, dangerous.

You tell everyone to go home and return tomorrow, as obviously the spirits won’t make it today. The people oblige and don’t question your decision, as they know that as a wicca you’re connected to the forest in more ways than they can understand. When it’s just you and Steve and some of the royal guards, you move towards the entrance of the forest. Very carefully, you call upon the spirits with a soft enchantment, Steve chiming in once he catches on to your idea.

Your singing voice grows silent once you hear mumbling coming from nearby rose bushes, a bit further down into the forest but not too far removed so you can’t call it trespassing yet. Asking Steve to stay back and watch out for any spirits, good or bad, that wish to tell you off, you venture closer to the whimpers. It is then that you see the rose bush has no thorns and all the roses are in fact a vivid blood red.

Next to the rose bush is the forest spirit, Bucky, his beautiful left arm wounded as it bleeds and the blood inspires the colour of the roses. The forest doesn’t let his life force go to waste and uses his blood to create more roses all around his body.

“Bucky,” you gasp as you crouch down next to him, cradling his half-conscious body in your arms. “What happened?”

He can barely speak, his lips moving slowly as quiet whispers leave his mouth. “Some of the spirits turned against the forest. They’ve witnessed some of the horrors in the other realms, men invading villages, killing children and raping women and young girls. They don’t believe anymore in the good of the people and started to refuse gifts until eventually the rebellion grew and they started attacking humans too.”

“I tried to stop them from burning down your realm as well. I succeeded in driving them away but they knew where to strike me. Y/N, I can feel the forest accepting my sacrifice. I don’t have long, Y/N.”

Carding his hair away from his eyes, you attempt a few spells and herbal remedies with nearby plants in order to save his life, but they’re all in vain as he is right, the forest has already begun harvesting his magical abilities. His time has come.

“I have served this forest for a century, Y/N. I am one hundred years old. It is time for me to go.” His eyes plead with you, to let him go, to let him die. “But I will never leave you. I will be yours forever.” He releases a deep yet shaky breath and points to the roses. “You fill find me in every rose. You will feel me in every flower that grows here.”

“Bucky… Tell me what to do. I don’t want to leave you here,” you beg with the spirit, pressing your lips to his forehead as you cry soft tears.

He shakes his head and coughs, his face contorting in pain. “You don’t have to do anything.” After taking your hand in his, Bucky’s blue eyes turn a dark green as he completes the transformation. It takes you a while before you figure out what he’s doing. He is restoring your soul, fully restoring your soul.

“They have destroyed the Tree of the past. Us spirits had to absorb the energy of the leaves, it’s the only way we could save your people. I am restoring your soul and you will be a very powerful wicca now. Your child will be a very powerful wicca too.”

You rest your fingers on his lips and ask him to stop talking as it only causes him more discomfort. You want him to go peacefully. “Thank you.” Your eyes are sad yet your lips curl into a small smile. “I love you.”

He does not say it back but you know he does too. “Y/N, in your past life… you and I did meet. I was still human and you were the daughter of a hunter. I saved his life when a stag almost killed him. In return he offered me your hand but I declined.”

“Why?,” you ask confused, surprised by all this new information.

“Because I wanted you to choose for yourself.”

And with these final words, Bucky’s life force leaves him and cascades into the field of flowers that his blood has created, growing all around you now.

Wiping away the tears, you drop Bucky hand gently onto the flowerbed, his body slowly being covered by roses without thorns. In the distance, you can hear Steve calling out for you as he enters the forest as well. He immediately knows once he lays eyes on your tear-swollen cheeks and he sits down next to you while you both watch Bucky’s body truly become one with the forest.

Nine months later you welcome a baby girl into your family. Her name is Rose, after the roses without thorns that now grow all over the kingdom. Three years later, you give birth to a baby boy and decide to name him Bucky. When they are old enough to remember things well into adulthood, you take them to the place where Bucky’s body still rests. The flowers are always there, always blooming, and every year on the anniversary of his death, you lay a flower crown down onto his grave.

You’ve ventured further into the forest, with the permission of the spirits who are aware of your connection to Bucky and respect you, a wicca of great power and poise. Together with Steve, you eventually open the forest to all the people, learning them to appreciate the beauty of nature and the essence of giving and taking. When you give to the forest, the forest gives back to you. When you take from the forest, the forest takes from you. In the end, nature always has the final vote.

Bucky’s memory forever lives on in your children and the work you have done for the realm. Your children grow up to be loving and caring wiccas, and upon your death you as well as your husband Steve both join the council of forest spirits where you are reunited with Bucky’s soul.

Tag list: @melconnor2007 @learisa @mrshopkirk @dont-speak-just-read @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep @lovemarvelousfics @pleasantdreamqueen @petersunderroos @palaiasaurus64 @ssweet-empowerment @lovemarvelousfics @rrwilson66 @reniescarlett @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @barnes-heaven @abovethesmokestacks @marvelrevival @marvel-fanfiction @justanotherbuckydevotee @barnes-heaven @heartmade-writingbucky @buckyywiththegoodhair @captnbarnesrogers @a-little-hell-to-raise @knittingknerdy @milkywaybarnes @hymnofthevalkyrie @feelmyroarrrr @justareader @howlingbarnes @themcuhasruinedme @persephonesinferno @honey-bee-holly @delicatecapnerd @tomhollandzs @aletheladyinred @xbergiex @capbuckybuchanan @pegasusdragontiger @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @sophiealiice @sarahmatthews7 @lumelgy @kudosia @moonbeambucky @suz-123 @breezy1415 @always-an-evans-addict @thefanficfaerie @4theluvofall @curvybihufflepuff @caplansteverogers @amrita31199 @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for @holomasque @pineapplebooboo @thefridgeismybestie @supernatural508 @supernaturaldean67 @cant-decide-at-this-moment @mehrmonga @specs15 @kanupps06 @daisiesandbooks101 @sarahgracej @jasurahe13 @nerdyandproud9 @geeksareunique @jesspfly @badassbaker @whenallsaidanddone @ailynalonso15 @thebookisbtr @animechick725 @true-queen-of-mischief @crazy-little-thing-called-buck @ugh-supersoldiers @california-grown @dreamer7black @flopmalum

#kumis5kchallenge #forest spirit!bucky x reader #forest spirit!bucky x wicca!reader #bucky x reader #steve x reader #prince!steve x reader #prince!steve x wicca!reader #fantasy!au

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metricanxiety · 7 years ago

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for diamonds do appear to be just like broken glass to me

Genre: oneshot- idk.

Pairing: Phan. (dan and phil in case you didnt know that already.)

AU: Highschool/sixth form. Whatever you prefer.

Warnings: Swearing, underage ??, mentions to sex

Summary: After two years of heartbreak, Dan ends up sleeping with Phil off a drunken decision, and old, unexpected feelings come back up.

Author’s note: i am aware that this is really crap, but i am trying to improve, so please send me requests of prompts, hc’s, etc, because I will write them for you when I get the time. I’m kinda new to posting on tumblr sooooo. PLease keep this out of the main tags, (i.e danielhowell, danisnotonfire, amazingphil, philllester, etc) because i did not write this for them to see. If you are uncomfortable with mentions of gay sex/same sex relationships then im pulling a mannymua and telling you to please dont fucking read it.

“Pretty pretty.” Phil kissed the dimple adorned on the boy’s cheeks, making them turn a deep crimson. It wasn’t often they could be alone, where it was just the two of them, and they could do whatever they wanted. Dan was completely content. He was wrapped in the arms of Phil Lester, the guy that he’d completely fallen for. And although they were only young, he could sense something really strong between them.

Phil was warm, having his Adventure Time sweatshirt pulled over him, and a blanket draped over his legs. Dan rested comfortably between Phil's knees, back to his chest. The blanket, which they were sharing, was up to Dan’s chest, as he didn’t have a hoodie on. Phil’s arms crossed over Dan’s chest, with no plan of letting go. It was moments like these that Phil longed for. He couldn’t wait to have someone special to him, so they could be entertained just from the company of one another. And he finally had it.

Dan couldn’t help but to think about how lucky he was in that moment. Normally, on Fridays, Phil would be off with friends, spending time with them, but due to a holiday trip, they weren't going to be doing anything all together this summer. Which meant Dan had Phil all to himself.

Phil leaned down, pressing his lips to the skin poking out of Dan’s tee, and it may have been the cold, but Dan shivered under the touch. This was all new to him, he’d never been in a proper relationship before, or had anything romantically special with somebody before. So he was still growing accustomed to the constant affection, not that he didn’t like it, but everything was so new.

Dan turned his head slightly, only to see Phil, resting his chin on his shoulder. Phil tilted his head to look at Dan, and they both smiled, bumping their noses together.

It was Dan to finally close the gap, kissing Phil, just because he could.

When Dan was awoken this early morning, he wasn’t aware he had company. His eyes fluttered open when the rays of sun washed over his face, blinding him. The curtains were never closed the night before, because well, he didn’t even remember half of last night. The sun light lit up Dan’s bedroom, making the edges of his desk shine bright with the natural highlight accentuating the sharp corners. His plant drank up all the light it could get, as it never got much in the first place in it’s dark corner of the room. The pictures that littered his wall had a glare, making the faces unidentifiable, but Dan knew them well enough to know who was being blurred out.

Dan’s hand formed a fist, and rubbed both eyes, as if it would help him wake up, wipe away his constant feeling of restlessness, but alas, it never worked. He yawned, leaning over to check his electric that sat on his bedside table. The numbers lit up in read told the brunet that it was half past six. Dan groaned, throwing the white duvet over his waist, as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, getting ready to be up for the day. A chill washed over his skin, giving his goose flesh up and down his arms, realizing that, yes, he was completely naked. Not a cloth bared on his back.

Dan decided that maybe a few more hours of sleep would do, even though there was probably people piled in his downstairs level of his house from last night’s endeavors. They’d be okay for a little while.

Dan was known for his awesome parties, that’s the only thing keeping his name high in the food chain at school. And lat night was special: the first party of their last year of sixth form. It had to be amazing, because there was now a countdown to the very last party of their secondary school life. Everyone knew Dan would do well with this important night, and judging on what he remembered, he nailed it.

He tugged the duvet back up, flopping down onto his side, and was startled when he saw a body directly next to him, in his own bed.

And it wasn’t just a random stranger from his class, no, it was Lucifer himself.

Phil Lester.

Dan couldn’t believe it, because holy fuck he actually gave into this bastards antics, after two goddamn years of rejection, Dan finally gave in. And he hated himself for it.

You see, Dan never got on with Phil. At least, that’s what Dan told himself. When they were both sixteen, they had this fling over the summer, but they never took it farther than cuddling and holding hands. But, before school started, Dan thought he was finally with the guy of his dreams, but then dumped because friends got back from holiday. Specifically, Phil’s friends.

Dan was so heart broken, he didn’t ever think he would be able to leave the safety of his bedroom ever again. He never thought that Phil, his Phil, would ever hurt him after what happened between them. Sadly, however, people make promises that the probably will not keep, which Dan had learned the hard way.

Ever since, Dan watched Phil, seeing that he wasn’t the only rose petal being ripped apart by Phil’s hands, he wasn’t the only broken heart in the school. Poor, sweet, Liz Brekell, thought Phil was the love of her life after being asked out by him. She swooned over his exterior, and, even Dan admitted, was pretty fucking hot. Phil had muscles in all the right places, with straight, black hair that swept to the right, and his fucking smile, it definitely stole the show. But sadly, Liz was dropped for well, the net girl to drop to her knees. It was disgusting to Dan, that he too, had fallen for the scumbag called Phil Lester.

Dan gasped, brown eyes met blue, one screaming out of horror, disgust, the other of smug, and satisfaction. Phil had a fucking smirk spread across his cheeks, and Dan tugged his duvet away, covering his modesty. Phi, however, didn’t budge. The look in his eyes began the memories to flood back into Dan’s mind.

The alcohol, the kissing, the dancing, all the way until They stumbled into Dan’s bedroom, lips attached, zippers being pulled, buttons being ripped. Everything happened so fast, Dan felt as if he couldn’t breath.

“Morning, sunshine.” Phil’s voice was deep, raspy from its lack of moisture, and the strum of his vocal chords was probably the most sexy thing Dan had ever heard in his entire life. And if he didn’t have self control, he would have melted in Phil’s fingertips right then and there. Instead, he built up his walls of defense mechanisms. Last night was a mistake, he decided.

What Dan didn’t know, was that Phil thought it was hilarious that Dan hated him. He loved it, actually. Phil always liked a challenge. But when the rumors spread, about Dan and him, he was broken to have known Dan was no longer interested At least, that.s what Kyle Lockins said. So Phil did what any man would, moved on, and tried to make him jealous. He only succeeded at one of those things. He only really wanted the boy he had grown close to that one summer, the boy he kissed for the first time in the flatbed of his dad’s truck, under the stars of the country side.

A true night to remember, one of the best nights of Phil’s life, and he let the precious diamonds slip through his fingers, mixing with sand after returning to the rocks he was used to. Dan shined brighter than any gem in the treasure chest of their student population. But Phil could never say that out loud. Picking up pieces of the diamond you lost is more difficult than thought.

Phil shifted closer to Dan, trying to edge himself to the point of human contact, just to be able to touch him, but Dan had other thoughts. Dan did not want Phil any closer than the 38 centimeters they had between them, and ended up falling off the bed on the process. In some degree, Phil was hurt, but at the same time, he needed to take the situation in Dan’s perspective. He, as dd Phil, barely remembered last night, and was woken up to be naked in the same bed with the person he hated for two years now. He had to give the guy a little space.

“Oh my g-” Dan couldn’t even finish his sentence, before covering his entire face with his hands. the duvet flopped down over his waist, but was still half on the bed, over Phil. Dan wasn’t a monster, so he left it.

Phil too had his defense mechanisms, his just wasn’t as effective as Dan’s. He hid his emotions through flirting, being an asshole, basically turning into someone he isn’t. It was a barrier that very few people had broken down, but unfortunately for Dan, they built back up for him, without a realization he’d even torn them down.

Last night, Phil didn’t even know how he convinced Dan to sleep with him, because any time Phil tried to get Dan’s attention, he’d get shot down. Fuck, he wasn’t even personally invited to this party, like everyone else was. (Phil had no idea how Dan had talked to so many people to invite them to a party, because usually the entire class, plus more showed.)

“Dan, let me-” Phil began, but was interrupted by a sudden jolt, seeing the boy that was in his arms not ten hours ago, hide under the duvet.

“Just get your clothes and go.”

His beautiful voice, in Phil’s opinion, was muffled by the thick fabric separating the oxygen into two. He could never have Dan like this again anytime soon, but had to respect his wishes. Phil rolled off the bed, sliding on a pair of boxers, followed by his jeans. He didn’t want to waste too much time, as the embarrassment of the situation was worsening by the second.

Dan heard the door slam shut, and took it as the all clear. Well, not really. Nothing was cleared but his room. His mind had no source of ever being the crystal form of relaxation ever again, even if he only had that at rare times.

He had just broken every single rule in his book. That is, he only had one rule, (never fall for Phil again) but he seemed to be having trouble with that. You may be thinking that two years must have been enough time for these two to recover, and get over the bridge of heartbreak, but their connection was so special, Dan thought about it all the time. Sure, Dan had dated a few guys since, but they all just seemed to be short, no longer than two month, flings. Phil was no different, the only thing keeping him out of this category is the fact that Dan and Phil were never dating. Phil was never Dan’s, and Dan was never Phil’s. Yet, it seemed to be the opposite at the time.

The time Dan and Phil became a thing, Dan had just turned sixteen, and Phil brought him on a date as a birthday present. They’d been talking quite a bit before, but Phil thought this would be his big break with Dan. He was head over heels for the curly brunet, and only wanted him to be happy. He truly was the diamond in the rough in Phil’s eyes.

He hadn’t kissed Dan until three weeks into the summer, when his dad finally let him borrow the truck. There was a scheduled shooting star shower happening that night, and it was the perfect setting to finally feel Dan’s lips against his own. Phil thinks about that moment every night, to this day. The electricity shared between the two could have lit up a city. And if I’m honest, things may have gotten heated, but Phil never pushed Dan. He was younger, and barely sixteen, and Phil was like, the third person to commit to him. (Dan doesn’t consider the other two important because he was so young.)

Phil regrets every decision he made by the end of that holiday, however. His friends hated that he was spending too much time on a boy that wouldn’t last, so he kicked Dan to the curb. Rumors spread, and that was it. Yes, he did find it funny that Dan hated him, but there was always apart of him that wanted to prove to Dan that he wasn’t the piece of shit Dan had mad him out to be.

Dan kicked himself, for he didn’t even remember the feeling of the touch of Phil’s lips against his own last night, Even though he didn’t plan on going back to Phil, he wouldn’t trade what they had for the world. Maybe he needed a reminder, how he felt with him, even if those feelings are no longer adamant.

But for god’s sake, he fucking slept with Phil. He’d done something that his sixteen year old fantasies were based upon, and he barely remembers it.

Dan threw his duvet back up onto his bed, walking over to the closet that held his clothing. He felt the same as he did two years ago. Betrayed. Used. Desperate. Feelings he hasn’t felt with anyone else, and he gets so drunk on it. The taste is so bitter, yet so addictive.

Pulling up a pair of sweat pants, Dan thought he’d kick everyone out now, so he’d have the house to himself. He didn’t want to deal with his feelings, but pushing them away would only make then blow up in his face later on. He didn’t bother with a shirt, nor boxers, but it’s not like he wasn’t going to try and scrub off all of his shame in the shower in ten minutes.

The minute Dan opened the door out of his bedroom, he regret every substance he allowed into his house. Because not only was there a pungent scent of alcohol lingering in the air, he could smell the weed that people decided to smoke in the living room, which meant he had to wash the fabric until it was gone. Fuck.

Dan wasn’t really one to say no at parties, but everyone knew they had to at least ask. For example, the first time somebody brought alcohol, they asked Dan if he’d allow it, because it was his house after all. Until it caught on that yes, Dan wants you to bring all the alcohol your heart desires. Other questions consisted of if body shots were allowed, stripping, cigarettes, and now, I guess, marijuana. He doesn’t remember denying the question of weed, so he must have taken a drag last night. Usually he’d be against the whole ‘drug use’ thing, but when he’s drunk, his decisions can be unpredictable. Hence, the fact that he slept with Phil.

There wasn’t as many people sleeping on his floor as he expected, making his job much easier to complete. He stepped up onto his coffee table, bringing his hands to cup around his mouth.

“Everyone out!” He yelled. “My parents are on their way!”

And yeah, he may have been lying, because his parents both traveled for a living, so he still had four days until they’d be home. It was the best solution to get people to wake up, and scatter. People thanked Dan as they headed out the door, a thanks for an amazing night and a night to remember, a party that can only be topped by the final one. He put on his most believable smile, giving brief, friendly hugs to the last of the fish in the sea that was his own home last night.

The door clicked shut, and Dan immediately fell against the wall. His back slid down to the floor, and he pulled his knees up to his chest, as if he was protecting his heart from shattering, which, in some ways, he was. It took Dan so long to accept that Phil chose his friends over him, that now, it just felt like Phil was hurting him on purpose. He was slowly shattering into millions of pieces of heart break, all over again.

Dan felt sixteen again, going through the same process of regret, and hurt, all starting with shame.

He was really glad that last night was not the night he lost his virginity, because that would have made this situation even worse. Even though, that guy wasn’t all that great either.

His name was Henry, and he was the person to comfort Dan in his mourning over Phil. And, Dan was brainwashed, thinking that some guys are better than the one he fell for, gave him everything he had, but not four weeks later, did the end things. Dan thought he was doomed ever finding any sort of real love. Because even though Dan had Phil for a few short months, he still felt something more than just attraction.

He wished he remembered last night, to feel how Phil touched him, kissed him, felt him. How they connected in a way that they’ve never before, but both under the influence of alcohol running through their veins, making decisions for them before their minds could interfere with all the consequences that would follow.

Dan just felt like crying, because all of his feelings for the boy who had taken him for granted were flooding back like tidal waves, and if he just hadn’t fucking slept with him everything would have been fine, you dumbass, I can’t believe you-

He dragged his feet back up the carpeted stairs, just enough to turn the tap on his shower. Dan hadn’t quite seen himself that morning yet, so the surprise bruises scattered around his neck was quite the scare he saw in the mirror.

Hickeys were never something Dan liked, his neck was too sensitive for him to allow people near it, but well, Phil was an exception, he guessed. The marks were deep purple, fading into a red, then his skin tone. They were fucking dark. And they went from his neck, around his collar bones, to his V-line. The thought of having Phil’s mouth all over him made his skin crawl, and shiver. When he was sixteen, he dreamed of Phil’s mouth all over him, and now, after it happened, he only wanted more.

Phil was always so talented with everything he did, especially kissing, Dan decided. His plump lips were always so smooth against Dan’s, and the one time he actually moved to Dan’s neck, he never left a mark. Now, his neck is sensitive, and his actual skin is no different. He was so surprised when Phil pulled back, leaving no evidence that he was even there. And god, did Dan want proof Phil actually kissed his neck.

Looking at himself in the mirror now, was like a dream. This was his past self’s goal in life, to be marked up, claimed by Phil Lester himself. Dan had a sudden urge for more, to be covered in hickeys that Phil would have to suck and bite him to leave. Every sad emotion he was having before just turned- dirty. He wanted Phil to come back over, and have sex so they have something to remember by. It could be his teenage hormones, or it could be his crazy talking, but we all know it was both.

It would have been so easy to just ring him back over, logistically, but Dan had literally kicked Phil out earlier, so he wouldn’t be surprised if Phil hated his guts now. Could he blame him though?

Suddenly, after two years of telling himself no, Dan was saying go for it, despite his rule. Because maybe this was his shot again. Maybe Phil wasn’t an asshole, and had actual reasons to break up with Liz and every other person to ever date him ever, maybe Dan was different.

All this hype, and confidence, made Dan take the fastest shower he’s ever taken, because ohmigod he was actually going to do this, he was going to make the first move, he was going to invite Phil back over-

He was going to get Phil back.

Just the though made the sixteen-year-old Dan squeal, and tap his toes on the floor out of impatience. He denied his feelings for Phil every day, and suddenly, his entire path changed. It took a complete 180, because he went from hating Phil with every drop of blood in his body, to trying to get him back.

Even if it ended up only being sex.

Dan couldn’t stop staring at himself in the mirror. The marks on his skin, he knew, would turn into some type of drug for him. He loved it. He wanted to look like this all the time. The feeling of being claimed really turned him on, which was, apparently, a kink he had discovered this morning. But it wasn’t just being marked up, and claimed, he wanted it to be done by Phil.

A simple, comfortable outfit, would have to do for Dan, because, if Phil were to come over, he would need something easy to take off. Joggers and a t-shirt was the best he could do. And as Dan lunged for his bedside table to text Phil, tell him to come back over, he was notified that well, Phil had beat him to it. There were two notifications waiting to be read on his lock screen, both next to the simple name, of just Phil, no emoji, or anything to mark him as someone special.

Dan- sorry for last night, i understand if you need some space, but i really need to talk to you

text me if you decide you want to, i guess

Dan’s heart sank like a rock being thrown into the ocean, floating all the way to the bottom before being engulfed by the murky water, making the ocean floor not visible. Dan could’t just invite Phil over now, I mean, it hasn’t been forty minutes since Phil has left, and now things would be awkward, especially since Phil needed to apologize face to face, Dan thought that had to be the reason.

Then the memory of Liz, having her heart ripped out, and thrown in the garbage, right next to her v-card, by Phil was drawn back into his mind. Liz, who cried for months over Phil, probably never got an apology. What Phil did to Liz, was probably going to happen to Dan, for the second time.

The urge he had for Phil still remained, however. So Dan did what any person would do, wait it out.

Phil, on the other hand, was also freaking out. He too, still had feelings for Dan, obviously, and he doesn’t even know how he finally convinced Dan to give him a chance. He thought that after they reconnected, (literally, in this case,) he wouldn’t feel guilty, and everything would be great, and Dan wouldn’t hate him any more than he already did.

Except not really, they were both drunk and happen to hook up. It wasn’t really Dan giving him another chance, but more so, not saying no.

Phil could see it now, the broken pieces were coming together, but only if he doesn’t fuck up like he did again.

Phil scrambled for his phone, as he had left every conversation on do not disturb, except for the only person he cared to talk to, and his phone had finally chimed for the first time in two weeks. And it was exactly who he wanted. His beautiful diamond had finally shined over the sand again, and his was so grateful. Phil couldn’t get Dan off of his mind, because unlike Dan, Phil actually remembered that night with Dan more as time went on. And god, did he want Dan like that again.

He remembered having Dan all laid out in front of his, and he only wanted to kiss him, mark him, because he knew Dan loved it. After two years of trying to get him back, (well, trying to get him to go out, but he was never good at expressing that, as in, he attempts to make Dan jealous) this could finally be it for him. Phil wanted to kiss Dan like he did when they were sixteen.

He wanted to go back to that summer and change his decisions, so maybe he could have had Dan for as long as he wanted. Because even though Phil dated a few people, he never liked them, and appreciated them, as much as Dan. And they were purely to try and get Dan’s attention back on Phil. It never really worked.

“Hello?” Phil slid the screen so fast, it may have seemed desperate to Dan, with how quickly he answered.

“uh, hi, Phil. Look, I’m really sorry about kicking you out the other day, I was overwhelmed and I didn’t know what else to-”

Phil interrupted the sweet voice he had fallen in love with, even though he didn’t want to cut his time short from hearing it. “It’s okay, Dan, I came on too strong, and it was your house, you had the right to do it.” Phil exhaled. He seemed to talk faster and faster as his sentences dragged. Phil could hear Dan’s voice stutter, as if he was about to laugh, but held it back.

“In the text you sent me, um, you said you needed to, um, talk?” Dan could barely spit out his words. This moment had him so anxious these past two weeks, he basically forced his hand to hit the call button. And even then, he nearly hung up immediately.

Phil’s eyes lit up, because Dan actually remembered, but Phil didn’t. He couldn’t for the life of him remember what he needed to tell Dan. Of course, he could go with the plain obvious, and just fucking say how hopelessly head over heals he was for Dan, but there was something more, something that was perching on the tip of his tongue, but couldn’t quite spit out.

“Phil? If you don’t have anything to say, then I should probably-”

“Wait, sorry, just, uh, can we, um, meet?” Phil stumbled. He got onto his knees to attempt to search for his shoes under his bead, eventually pulling out the worn black converse. He held the phone between his cheek and shoulder as he awaited a reply.

“Like, now?”

“Um, yeah? If that’s okay?” Phil laced up his shoes, and shrugged on a light jacket- the England weather had turned quite shit, with rain being the most common in their area, oppose from the lovely sunshine they had a little bit ago.

“I don’t know, Phil, I-”

Yeah, two weeks ago Dan was literally ready to have Phil back, but he was glad he gave himself time to think. Because maybe he didn’t want his fucking heart broken again, by the same person that ripped into pieces in the first place. He couldn’t make it that easy for Phil to just waltz back into his life.

“Please? I can be quick, i just don’t want to do this on the phone.” Phil took a deep breath, about to walk out the front door of his house, still not remembering what he had to say to Dan.

“Fine.”

Phil cut the call, running out to his car, and speeding to get to Dan’s house.

Dan hadn’t been to keen on letting Phil come over again, but he needed closure, and if having a cup of tea in the awkward silence of his living room meant closure, then so be it. The marks on his neck had faded drastically, but you could still see the ghosting of where there was one before. That wasn’t fun explaining to his parents.

He really just wanted to take back everything that happened at the party, because it brought up old feelings that he really didn’t want anymore. Dan sighed, running a hand through his hair. What was Phil Lester doing to him?

Dan had his music on the speaker in the leaving room, trying to calm his nerves as he waited for Phil to arrive. And all that was running through his mind was ohmygodwhy on repeat, but it was too late for him to cancel. He didn’t even know what to expect from Phil this time, if he was looking to just hook up again, or if he was going to apologize, he had no idea.

Dan tried to distract himself, counting the freckles going up and down his arms, rearranging the cushions on the couch, changing his outfit for the billionth time, he just had to keep himself busy.

Dan was feeling so anxious over this, he couldn’t stay still, so when he heard the doorbell, his jitters intensified, and he could barely walk to the door without stumbling. He yanked the door open and it looked like Phil was in the same state of him.

He was wearing all black, and god, did he look so hot, in that form fitting t-shirt, and when he saw Dan, his smile was just so- calming, knowing that yeah, this is Phil. This is the Phil that he care for so deeply two years ago, he was standing right in front of him.The eye contact they shared, it made Dan feel like they were sixteen, both with very awful taste in clothing, inexperienced, and much shorter.

Dan had forgotten how much Phil actually meant to him, as all he did was suppress the pain he went through when Phil left him.The only reason he didn’t grab Phil’s face, and kiss the life out of him, is the fact that Phil came here to talk.

“Dan, I-” Phil started, but Dan flung the door open, letting him in. He didn’t want Phil to talk while standing outside, because A) its rude, and B) he didn’t want Phil to just be in and out.

Phil smiled, walking in, letting Dan lead them to the couch. “Do you want some tea, or anything?” Dan asked, procrastinating this talk even more. Phil chuckled, grabbing Dan’s hands, and pulling him down onto the couch. Dan took a deep breath, trying to relax himself. It was just Phil.

And that thought scared him.

Even though he was looking at the Phil he fell for, two years ago, he couldn’t forget about all of the awful things he had done in the time between now, and when they broke off. He just wanted his Phil back.

“Dan, I wanted to talk to you about what happened between us,” Phil started. Dan sat on one of his leg, so he could face Phil better. He sighed, running a hand through his curly hair.

“It was a mistake, Phil. We were both drunk, and our bodies did things before our minds could inter-”

“I wasn’t really talking about that. I meant, um, two years ago.” Phil gave a small smile, and Dan’s face fell.

Dan didn’t really like talking about him and Phil a whole lot, he didn’t want to remember what he felt for Phil, so his solution was to just not say anything about it with people. He hated remembering how happy Phil made him, because it only made him feel responsible for all the shitty feelings people had when with Phil, even though he had no reason to feel that way.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I just, I couldn’t stop thinking about you after I made the clearly wrong decision. You were always on my mind, everything I saw reminded me of you, and it was like anything just screamed ‘Dan Howell’ to me, and it honestly was destroying me.“But I couldn’t just go back to you, no, my fucking choice was to try and make you fucking jealous, and end up hurting you more, and I was hurting others because I just, it didn’t feel the same.

“Now don’t get me wrong, I loved the fact that you hated me. I have no idea why, it was just, I don’t know, I found it so hot that you didn’t like me, or some god awful reason, and it was like a challenge for me to win you back.” Dan’s frown was slowly turning into a smile.

Phil wasn’t even looking at him as he spoke, but his hands were moving all around, expressing so much passion into this conversation as he rambled. Dan couldn’t believe that this was all about him, Phil was talking from his heart, and he was falling for him all over again.

“And I thought I was over you, I really did, but when you started dating someone, it would make my skin crawl.” Phil laughing slightly when Dan did, and Dan moved a little closer to Phil, laying his arm across the back on the couch, as if he had his arm around Phil, without touching him. “I couldn’t even imagine somebody holding you under the stars like we used to do, because I was supposed to be the person doing that. I was supposed to be the person holding your hand in the car as Muse blasted through the speakers, I was supposed to be the person running my fingers through your hair when you were stressed, and couldn’t deal with anything else. I hated the fact that I had taken the connection we had for granted.”

Dan blushed, looking away from Phil. His words were magic, and he could tell Phil had thought about this a lot. Phil grabbed Dan’s hand, bringing his attention back to him. And Dan let Phil hold his hand, something that Phil thought he would never be able to do again. His slightly calloused fingers slotted perfectly into his, and he swore he felt sparks when they touched.

“And then we fucking slept together. We slept together, Dan! I barely remember anything, but I knew I had convinced you, I had kissed you, and I hate myself for it, because I didn’t have the guts to tell you how much I fucking like you sober. Because I do, god, I do. And I just, I’ve wanted you back since that summer. Since our summer had ended.” Phil had moved himself so they were almost on top of each other. Dan’s mind was racing, everything he had just said made him want to cry. Nobody had ever spoken about him that way, and the feeling was so indescribable.

They sat there, remaining eye contact with one another, hand in hand, processing the feeling just exchanged, and Dan did it. He launched forward, smashing his lips against Phil’s, nearly knocking him over. Phil responded immediately, letting go of Dan’s hand, and bringing them to his back. Dan brought his hands around Phil’s neck, and pushed him, so he was laying on top of Phil.

Both of them laughed, when they separated for air, bumping their noses together. Phil leaned back up, pressing their lips together. They had forgotten how amazing their kissing was, electricity was flowing through their bodies, sparks were flying, because fucking finally, they realized hoe meant for each other they were. Their lips moved together as if it were natural, like they were made to do this together.

“Are you sure it’s tonight?” Phil asked, he hugged his hoodie closer, as Dan practically dragged him to the pickup truck in Phil’s driveway. Dan rolled his eyes, throwing the blankets into the flatbed.

“I promise. Now c’mon, I don’t want to miss it.” Dan threw the keys at Phil, who caught them with surprise.

Today was the day Dan was supposed to throw the last party of sixth form. Everything was planned as well, Dan’s parents were out of town, again, Phil had helped spread the word, and they had a shit ton of food. But when Dan found out about the meteor shower happening, he dropped the party like a hot cake, and was dragging Phil out to the county at eleven p.m.

They were relaxing on the couch, with Dan’s head in Phil’s lap. Dan was paying attention to the anime on the telly, but Phil had his eyes on the iPhone game, while the other hand played with the curly locks of the boy he loved, when Dan suddenly sprang up, remembering the exact reason he had cancelled his party that night, why they were at Phil’s house instead of Dan’s, and dragged Phil out the front door, leaving the warmth behind, and entering the bite of the cold outdoors, even though it was June

Phil didn’t mind though. The only thing he cared about was the beautiful diamond that he had to hold in his arms tonight, because he finally collected all the pieces he had lost. It was nice to call Dan his after so long of a disconnection, he’d do anything for his Dan. And if that meant going out to sit in the middle of nowhere to see shooting stars that probably won’t be very visible, then he’d damn well do it. He’d do it just to see the little crinkles in Dan’s face when he smiled, the sparkle in his eyes when he’d finally see what he was looking for, or the way he’d get jumpy, and excited during times leading up to plans. It was Phil’s favorite.

As Phil drove, he realized that he lived for these moments with Dan, he couldn’t imagine his life without Dan by his side anymore. All his future plans revolved around him,(but Dan didn’t know that) Dan was the actual reason of his existence. Just the thought of not waking up in the morning and not having his usual ‘good morning, love’ text from Dan made his face fall.

Phil really didn’t know what he was missing out on during their two year gap.

But all that mattered now, was that he was heading out to go watch the stars with his favorite person on the planet, and he couldn’t have been more happy to say that.

//hello hi this is the end. I really tried w this one, but i didn’t like the end result as much as i hoped, sorry the quality went to shit after the first bit lol. tanks for reeading :) also the theme didnt really keep up but its whatever im sorryyyyyy

#phanfiction #phan fiction #phan fluff #phan smut #phan angst #dan and phil fanfiction #fanfiction #phan oneshot #metricanxietyfics

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