#the same path/end together. seeing the same lines out the window. a long drive (love) talked enough listened enough enough music
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
hi!!!!! haven’t been able to get any coherent thoughts down yet but i just wanted to let you know i Have been rotating your post in my mind…….was thinking about it in the back of multiple ubers today…..rain pattering against the window…………like, oh my goodness! YOUR MIND!!!!!!!!!!!! wishing you well. hope you have a safe, healthy, and happy new year!! 💗
"enough music", dorianne laux
#have been trying for SO long to find you the rain on the windows poem i wanted. needless to say i did not succeed.#but! dorianne laux does evoke the kind of emotion the backseat in the rain conveyed to me#and it is very much a poem about not having the things to say so. fitting.#liv in the replies#happy new year to you too!!!!! thank you <3#also on a side note. for my brain.#maybe it's what we don't say that saves us#UNHINGED line thank you. i don't have the narratives presently but my god they're there.#thinking about journeymen and long road trips and that one chris driedger article about driving up and down all the time#and YES OK FINE I WILL TAG IT#the caterpillar and the chrysalis#the chrysalis and the caterpillar#maybe one of these days i should figure out which tag is the proper one and condense it but today is not that day.#it is purely i think for the sake of the 'we stopped once or twice' (trades) the journey metaphorical but you were always on the same road#the same path/end together. seeing the same lines out the window. a long drive (love) talked enough listened enough enough music#(unrelatedly to that but to the view where did i put all my roadkill poems because also: the blur out the window.)#enough music who's the fuckass locker room dj two old men with their audiobooks lmao (enough! maybe one listening by force & not by choice)#and the enough repetition makes me think of the other poem that goes enough seen enough had enough kiss the dumb animal ->#ltir retirement 'the cry of the body—and you always want to give it what it wants. but i must say no—enough / with more tenderness'#how you know when to quit. the cry of the body/heart never to stop with a) when you can no longer make a fist but b) the one i had#about pain & motion & only finding out when you stop re: fibulas i think & dance. the ache of no motion the heart against its own best time
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
9: Meat Market
(previous)
you end up somewhere you'd rather not be. a familiar priest wants to make you feel welcome.
->contains gore, mind control, non-consensual touching, religious content.
.
.
.
You need a shower.
You’d like to wash your clothes, bandage your knees and palms and lay down to ease the pressure on your sore hips and core, but all of that pales in comparison to your visceral need to rinse the grit and disgusting sticky sensation from your skin. You tilt the rearview mirror, examining the throbbing, tender bites and scratches adorning your skin. There’s a mark right where your neck meets your shoulder, not flushed and irritated like the rest. It’s faded like an old tattoo, just barely visible; symmetrical symbols, twin forking arches.
Antlers, you realize. Just high enough to peek out of the collar of your shirt.
It’s a long way to the University. You wouldn’t make it there tonight, even without this awful ache in your lower body. You scan the roadside for signs promising lodging or even a rest area, desperate for somewhere to stop. There’s nothing for a long time, even when you escape the lingering grasp of Verlinda and the treeline falls away. You see foggy plains and farmland, rows of ripe corn behind a wooden fence. For the first time in a while, you encounter other cars on the road. You see the finger-like silhouettes of factory smokestacks, a blocky city skyline in the distance.
You notice the smell as you drift into the exit lane. Sharp and savory—spices and dried meats. Your mouth waters. A shower, you think, and then maybe a hot meal. It’s a small town, you notice, more like Henley Creek than Prismville with its sleepy main street and quaint coffee shops. You drive slowly, looking for courier signs, but you see something else first; something that makes your heart skip a beat.
A metal sign straddles the road. A bridge gently arcs over a stylized river, colorful text following the curve. It says, “WELCOME TO NELTON.�� You consider for a moment how desperate you really are.
[NOW PLAYING ON THE RADIO: I ADORE YOU BY QUEEN ADREENA]
A river squirms through Nelton from north to south, sandy paths and old, soggy docks lining the bank. The city is a spacious, small town sprawl, meandering avenues dotted by benches, kitschy local shops and garland-wrapped streetlights. There’s some sort of special event or holiday coming up, implied by the colorful banners and 50% off sale signs, but not one you’re familiar with.
Downtown is bustling. You’ve arrived just in time for the lunch rush, watching hurried foot traffic stream through cafe and diner doors. Churches pop up like weeds every few blocks but they’re smaller and in poor condition than you expect, white, wooden buildings that look like they might topple in a strong breeze. You park on a busy avenue, walking slowly by the windows of a florist, an antique shop, an apartment building, looking for courier signs. You’re starting to lose hope when you round the corner and nearly run into someone.
“Sorry, I wasn’t looking—oh, hello again.”
You stare at the man in front of you. Have you met before? He’s smiling like you have but nothing about him is particularly memorable. You feel like you’re flipping quickly through a product catalogue and all the models are blurring together, pleasing to the eye but unobtrusive so as not to distract from the rest of the image. He wears a white shirt and black slacks, suspenders curving over his shoulders. And gloves, you realize, black leather gloves. You ran into him in Prismville.
“Courier! What a pleasant surprise!” There’s another man with him who you recognize immediately. Malachi is dressed in the same cassock as the last time you saw him, hands clasped together in front of his chest. “I’m so glad you’re here. Was it a long drive? Why don’t you join Mr. Bachman and I for lunch?”
“I’m afraid I can’t stay, but I’m sure the two of you will have a lovely time.” Bachman smiles and slips past you gracefully. He claps a hand on your shoulder as he goes, leaning in just slightly. “Don’t eat anything they offer you,” he whispers. He walks unhurriedly to a small, silver car parked by the florist. When you turn back around, Malachi is slightly closer, his smile just a bit wider.
“I had no idea the two of you were acquainted. What a small world!” he says.
Anticipating his charisma, the way he draws you in, doesn’t help. You feel yourself relaxing, the tension leaking out of your shoulders. The glow of his eyes is even fainter outside in the Drift’s weak daylight, but you notice the slightest golden hue rippling around his face. “We’re not, exactly. I saw him a while ago. Didn’t have time to introduce ourselves,” you admit.
“Ah, that sounds about right. He’s an anchorware repairman. Always rushing off to the next place, a bit like yourself. We just had to recalibrate our whole stabilizing array and I wasn’t sure it was done properly. It was kind of him to rush out and take a look—” Malachi cuts himself off suddenly, eyes widening in surprise. He hooks two fingers beneath the collar of your shirt and tugs it slightly to the side, staring, no doubt, at the mark of the Stag. “What happened here?” he says softly.
“It’s nothing,” you say quickly, leaning out of his reach. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I could really use a shower—”
“Goodness, of course,” he says, his hand resting gently on the small of your back. You’re walking before you’re fully aware of it, letting him guide you down the street. You’re leaving downtown, ambling down a long, green path to what looks like an industrial park. A massive complex of metallic buildings, steel walkways, and gaping delivery bays greets you at the end of the path. That spicy, savory smell you first noticed on the way into town is stronger here, almost cloying.
“Employee showers are in this building here. And no, nobody will mind,” he says, steering you towards a smaller, rectangular building with its own parking lot, separate from the rest of the factory. “You’d be more than welcome to use my bathroom if we were closer, but I live quite a ways from here. I’m sure you’d like to get cleaned up sooner rather than later.”
Before long, you’re walking down a long, echoing hallway, passing people in stark white uniforms. Everyone smiles and nods or waves to Malachi, a few exchanging cheerful greetings. They’re polite to you but not overly friendly, seeming to sense your unease. The shower room is clean and spacious, and thankfully unoccupied when you arrive. There’s a plastic bench against the wall with clean towels stacked in a pile. The stalls are around the corner. You can’t help but notice Malachi lingers, leaning against the wall beside the bench. “You can leave your clothes with me. I’ll make sure nothing happens to them,” he says, smiling innocently.
You’re too tired to argue. You go around the corner to undress, wrapping a towel around your body and hand off your clothes, extremely aware of Malachi’s fingers brushing against your hands. The lights are dimmer. The glow of his eyes is more noticeable and eerie.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” he asks, winking. “Are you delivering something, or just passing through? I suppose you’re always passing through, regardless.”
You slip around the corner and into a shower stall, turning on the hot water. It’s heavenly, soothing on all your scrapes and scratches. “Just passing through,” you call over the hiss of running water.
“Ah, the exciting life of a courier. Doesn’t it get lonely?”
You don’t answer, lathering some soap in your hands. The presence of amenities, several different scents and varieties of shampoo, makes you curious. “What is this place?”
“Nelton’s biggest employer,” Malachi says wryly. “Food processing, meat packing, and animal feed manufacture, all under one roof. Or, well, a series of connected roofs. It’s a big complex. If you noticed a particular odor around town, this is where it comes from.”
“And it’s got showers,” you marvel. “Nice ones.”
“Food is the heart of the community. Those who work with it are afforded the highest respect.”
You’re waiting for the invitation to lunch but it never comes. Are you being paranoid? There’s something odd about Malachi, and Bachman’s whispered warning is lingering in the back of your mind, but you towel off and get your clothes back without incident.
“You’ve got plenty of daylight left,” Malachi says. “So I suppose I can’t convince you to stay a while longer.” His eyes flick down to your neck when you come out of the showers, an irritated twitch at the corner of his smile. “That’s a stubborn spot of dirt, isn’t it?” he says.
You saw it in the mirror. The mark of the Stag didn’t come off, but you didn’t expect it to. “I’m sure it’ll come off eventually.”
He insists on walking you back to your car and you let him because it seems harmless, and you’re not sure you could navigate out of the factory complex alone anyway. You’re still a bit sore but you smell clean, at least, and your mood has lifted. Nelton’s peaceful scenery puts you at ease. The belltower spire of a courthouse periscopes from the center of downtown. A fried, buttery scent wafts from a seafood restaurant along the river. Wind skims across the surface of the water, stirring gentle waves.
“It’s a nice place, isn’t it?” Malachi asks, ambling along the sandy riverbank beside you.
“It is,” you say. A pair of fishermen seated at the edge of a dock wave at the two of you.
“Have you seen much of town? I meant to show you around. You might’ve noticed there aren’t any courier signs, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t welcome. Just the opposite. Everyone in Nelton is more than happy to help a courier. Food, lodgings, supplies, whatever you need, you don’t need to worry about finding it here.”
“That’s generous,” you say. The suspicion must be evident in your voice or on your face. Malachi laughs softly.
“The law of Nelton is hospitality. It’s simply what we do here. We’re especially appreciative of couriers, of course, but anyone who comes all this way would receive the same treatment.” He pauses, gazing across the water. You stop beside him, watching the waves lap at the rocks and meandering tree roots on the far shore. “Our most important holiday is in less than a week, the Feeding of the Multitude. Are you familiar with that particular story from the Bible? It was one of the miracles of Jesus. He took a couple fish and a few loaves of bread, gave thanks for them, and distributed them among the faithful and needy. This blessed food fed thousands.”
He’s watching you, you realize, studying your face. “Ah,” you say, unsure of what sort of reaction he’s expecting.
“That spirit of generosity is the essence of Nelton. Whether you follow the faith or not, it’s good to give, right? To feed the hungry and shelter the lost.”
He reaches for your hand and the thought that you should pull away passes through your mind, fizzling out just as quickly. It’s fine, isn’t it? You know he means well. He just wants to take care of you. His gaze is steady and warm, full of affection, as he tugs you closer. It occurs to you that this is strange, improper somehow, that a stranger and a priest of all things shouldn’t be holding you like this, but that thought, too, melts away.
“The truth is, a miracle happened here. Just like the fish and loaves,” he says quietly, so quietly you have to lean in closer. You get the sense that this is a secret he’s telling you, something not often given to outsiders. His hand is on your face, his thumb stroking your lips. His eyes are beautiful, gold like honey. “Are you hungry, courier?”
“Yes,” you say without hesitation. You think that this isn’t right, that you were leaving, weren’t you? You were going to get back in your car and keep going south but that seems too difficult now, not worth the risk. Where is your car? Where’s the florist and the antique shop? Isn’t that where he was supposed to take you? Hunger rakes through your belly. You’re ravenous. You could eat everything you have, all the eggs and junk food the Singer gave you and still not be satisfied.
Malachi is still watching you. You don’t know what he sees but it’s something good, something right, happiness blooming in your chest as soft and sweet as spun sugar when he strokes your cheek. “Then I should feed you, shouldn’t I?” He holds your hand, lacing your fingers together, as he begins to walk again. You’re leaving the river behind, ascending a steep, grassy hill. Town is far away, small in the distance. How far did you walk without realizing it?
There’s a church here that’s not like the others. It’s much bigger. It’s the same old style, the same white paint flaking from the exterior and the same dead leaves and spiderwebs gathered in its gutters, but its walls are wider, its steeple taller. Soft, golden light flickers beyond the windows but all you can make out are vague shapes and silhouettes. You stumble, your feet suddenly refusing to work.
You can’t go in there. The thought is a lightning bolt, a sobering shock to your system. You absolutely cannot go in there. The Stag has a presence like a forest made of eyes, the paralyzing, primal gaze of ancestral predators and the weight of a hundred thousand trees. This is worse. You aren’t glimpsing the beast through a leafy canopy but wandering right up to its maw, engulfed in its hot, butcher shop breath.
“It’s alright,” Malachi says gently. “Don’t be afraid, it’s alright. I know how it feels the first time.”
“I can’t…” You shake your head and pull back, away from him, but he doesn’t let you go. His grip on your hand tightens. “I can’t, I can’t—”
“Holiness isn’t as pretty as they make it look in Renaissance paintings. It’s messy. Visceral. It breathes and it bleeds, just like us.” You sink to your knees and he follows you, kneeling in dry, prickly grass—red, you realize, the grass is red and the dirt is red and everything is slick and glistening and red. You are kneeling in the vivisected insides of a thing stretched and splayed across miles. The trees are stiff stalks of sinew and leaves of thin, veiny membranes that pulse and ooze. You smell meat, cooked and seasoned to perfection. Malachi cups your chin and urges you to look at him.
“Let me go,” you beg him. “I don’t want this.” Fear, too, is a shriveling impulse, weak against the warmth of his hands stroking your hair.
“You do,” he coos. “You poor thing, I know you do. We’re all hungry and we all deserve to eat.” He cups your face in his hands and leans in so the gold of his eyes is all you see. Sharp, searing pain erupts in your neck and shoulder and you shove him off of you, scrambling back in the grass. You touch the spot, feeling for a wound.
There’s nothing. Just the tingling heat of the Stag’s mark. Malachi looks shocked and then really, truly sad, gaze gentle with sympathy. He reaches out to you and you scramble to your feet, running without ever looking back.
Nelton flickers around you. Sometimes you see the town, sometimes the flesh. Squirming ropes of intestines dangle like power lines. The road is cobblestone, and then it’s a row of teeth. You can’t tell which is real. People watch you, pausing their routines to peer out of windows and lean out of their cars. All of them frowning, all of them with furrowed brows and eyes emanating the same golden light. They don’t stop you. You’re afraid they know something you don’t.
Your car is where you left it. You screech out of your parking spot and make a beeline for the edge of town. The red fades. The road, stone and sterile, welcomes you back. That savory smell lingers for a while, and then it turns sour. You feel nauseous. The sky darkens and you check your clock, discovering your brief trip through Nelton cost you several hours. The sun will set soon and you feel worse than before, sick and exhausted and dirty all over again. Turning back isn’t an option. You’ll have to settle for the next place you see. Whatever you find, you assure yourself, it can’t be any worse than where you just came from.
(next)
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
Switched | Itadori Yuji x reader x Sukuna
summary: fucking yuji means a passionate night until sukuna decides to be an asshole and switches with your boyfriend half way through sex.
F!reader
word count: 2.6k
warnings: 18+, name calling
author's note: i've been thinking of this since i last closed the app and i knew i just had to write it
You've been horny all night.
Your boyfriend, Itadori Yuji, is wearing a simple plain white dress shirt which he folded up right below his elbows. He has two buttons undone and the shirt is tucked in black dress pants, his long legs causing for his ankles to show right above the black boat shoes he has on his feet.
He finished the look with a white silver watch on his left wrsit. Honestly? You could feel your cunt already dripping just by the way your boyfriend looked while the two of you were still at the apartment.
As the group; Nobara, Gojo, Nanami and Yuji sang happy birthday for Megumi, you're busy rubbing your thighs together, proving for the action to be a bit more difficult than it actually is when you're seated.
Megumi blows his candles and everyone cheers, clapping their hands as they begin to dig into the food. You try distracting yourself, scooping in a few scoops of food on your plate but it is all for naught when Yuji leans over, giving you a chance to get a whiff of his cologne.
A strong strawberry scent with a little bit of sweet vanilla and a hint of bold wood. The scent doesn't smell like it goes everywhere at all- it all smells so good together. Yuji uses his chopsticks to place some strips of beef on your food, your gaze immediately on his forearm- veins feintly protruding from under his light skin. The silver around his wrist doesn't help at all and it makes you feel as if you are this horny teenager again.
"Eat up." Yuji smiles, his eyes smiling with him. You force your lips to stretch, sending him a big smile back before eating your food, deciding to forget all about your thoughts by stuffing food in your mouth.
It works.
Well, more or less. You haven't had a single dirty thought about your boyfriend ever since uou began eating, and now Nobara is currently singing her heart off as Gojo and the birthday boy himself are dozing side by side on the end of the couch. Nanami is busying himself by sipping on his drink, a smile feint on his lips as he watches and listens to Nobara sing, looking like how a proud father would.
Your boyfriend, on the other hand, doesn't look too good.
"You okay, babe?" You ask, leaning in to squeeze his forearm softly. He snaps out what seems to be in a caging gaze he was in, looking at you. Yuji smiles, hand fluing on yours to give it a good, reassuring squeeze. "I'm good, baby. Just a little tired, I guess."
You furrow your brows, definitely not buying his lies. "Just tell me. The faster you tell me the faster we can solve the problem." You say, crossing your arms over your chest.
Yuji's eyes slowly and uncontrollably begin traveling down your chest, gaze glossing over your evident cleavage, moving again even much lower, his eyes taking note of how the black dress you're wearing is hugging every curve on your body perfectly.
Yuji leans in, his strong cologne scent causing the butterflies in your stomsch to go insane. "That dress has been driving me crazy the whole night." Your boyfriend's hot breath fans over the shell of your ear, casuing goosebumps to rise all over your body. "Take it off for me, please?"
You breath in a deep and shaky breath, closing your eyes to try and convince yourself not to strip naked in front of your friends and teachers right here on the spot. You stand up abruptly, catching Nanami's attention.
"We gotta go, Yuji has a really bad stomach ache." The corners of your mouth pull down into a fake frown which Nanami buys, nodding his head and waving the both of you off. You take Yuji's hand and pull him out of the Kareoke room, your heels loud as you stomp your way out of the building and to the parking lot.
As you find your car, you pull the front seat's door open only for it to be closed shut again by your boufriend. Yuji pulls you closer by your waist, making you can feel how hard he is inside his pants.
"We're not doing it here."
"My car's windows are tinted." He bites on your ear.
You keep telling yourself not to do it, to just wait until the both of you gets home but Itadori jr. seems to be having other plans for tonight. You sigh, walking over to the back door and pulling it open. As soon as you bend over to get in, Yuji pushes you and slams the door behind him.
The cold winter nights of Japan has the interior of the car all cool and comfortable. Yuji spins you around by your waist, running both of his hands on either sides of your waist. He breathes out deeply, eyes scanning hungrily over your form. His hands begin to make their way down your thighs, he leans in to give you a soft peck on the lips. Yuji looks into your eyes at first before leaning back in to envelope you into a deep kiss, his tongue skillfully brushing and sliding against yours as he sucks on it softly. His breathing his ragged as he feels your body all over, your legs instinctively opening and moving up his hips. Yuji presses his hard member against your clothed cunt, grinding on it for some kind of friction before pulling away when he feels just how soaked you are down there.
He reaches a hand under your dress, pressing two fingers on your wet cunt making you mewl. You've been holding it in for too long and now you're just very sensitive. The corner of his mouth twitches up, "Have you been wet for me the entire night, baby?"
You don't trust your voice, you can't. You know it'll sound needier than you actually are, you know it'll set Yuji off to start teasing you, so you nod your head, your face contorting as you feel him slip a finger between your folds.
He leans forward, hot breath fanning over the sensitive skin on the side of your neck. Yuji's warm tongue runs up the skin once, twice- he's adding another digit into your wet hole and you almost cum at the spot when he nibbles on your soft skin.
"I'll take very good care of you tonight." He presses his soft lips on the nibbled part of the skin, slowly trailing kisses up to your cheek and finally back onto your lips.
You couldn't think straight- your head was full of the boy. You absolutely loved about him; his strawberry pink hair, when he smiles with his eyes, how he can never go through a day without cuddling you at least once, how he does his best to give you anything you want, how he's one of your biggest inspirations in life. This boy- no, this man is someone you can imagine waiting for you at the end of the isle, hot tears streaming down his face as he waits for you at the end of the path, looking at you as if you were the most beautiful woman he's ever laid eyes on- yes, even more beautiful than Jennifer Laurence.
Aoi would be right beside him, rubbing a hand on his back as he tries to soothe his best friend's sobs.
You snap out of your daze when you notice your boyfriend looking deeply into your eyes, a soft blush caressing his cheeks as he studies your face ever so lovingly. "I love you." You tell him.
His blush darkens as he leans into you, pressing his lips once again on yours. "I love you too." You feel the head of his cock press against your entrance for a bit before entering you completely.
You let out a soft whine, arching your back as your lips are trapped between your teeth. Your eyes roll back at the feeling of your boyfriend slowly pushing his entire length inside you, getting you feeling so full of him. "Yuji..." Your voice sounds so lewd, so needy and whiny for him that the sound of it makes you blush. You feel him stop moving once he's inside you fully, and at first you think he's letting you adjust to his size. That is, until he pulls his head back and your gaze falls onto the black lines all over his face. The soft look that once inherited your boyfriend's face is now replaced by a smug, cocky one. He has a smirk on that tells you to push him off and quickly get out of the car- but why don't you?
Instead, you feel yourself clenching around him even more. The look on his face has you dripping wet, your nipples hardening underneath your dress and the butterflied in your stomach going crazy as ever.
"Can't believe that little boy would keep you all to himself." His voice isn't Yuji's- no. It's much deeper, darker, more dangerous. He looks down at your apalled expression, his smirk growing even bigger. He leans over, pushing your legs up to your chest and forcing you down into a mating press. "What's my name, princess?"
You can feel your heart beating rapidly against your chest, your breathing shaky and your head clouded. Without even thinking about it, your mouth moves on their own and out comes your whimpering voice.
"Sukuna."
The curse pulls away with a wide grin, pulling his hips out before thrusting his cock inside you again, the tip of his cock hitting the same spot as it did before. Sukuna's hips are relentlessly thrusting inside you, abusing your needy hole as you moan loudly for more.
His hand finds its way to your boob and you feel something hot and wet lap itself over your hardened nipple. You look down to see the mouth on his hand grinning cockily like him. It wraps itself around your nipple, sucking on the bud and biting on it softly making your eyes rolls back to your head.
You feel something coil up inside your stomach, your mouth opening as you feel yourself slowly reach your high. "I-I'm so, fucking, clo-" Sukuna thrusts his hips hardly once, causing your toes to curl and your body to shake as you move your hips to ride out your orgasm. Heavy breaths fill the car as your legs grow limp on either side of his body and your eyelids become heavier.
"The fuck do you think you're doing?" Sukuna squeezes your cheeks, making your eyelids lift open. He hooks his arm around your back, pulling you along with him as he sits up.
Your eyes widen and back arches when you feel electricity run up your spine. Sukuna lifts a brow, his hands on either side of your hips, preventing you from lifting them. "Too full!" You whimper out, tears forming on the corners of your eyes as you swallow a large lump down your throat.
"Hah?" He tilts his head to the side, "But I haven't even came yet." You feel him roll his hips once, but it was all it took to have you digging your nails on his shoulders. "I'll pull out when I cum. But for now," He lowers his head to take your nipple by his mouth, his fingers pinching and playing with the other one. ",focus on making me feel good, princess."
Your eyes clench shut asbyou focus on the feeling of his hard member inside your dripping cunt. You move your hips once, you feel goosebumps all over your body. You move your hips a second time and you're wanting to feel that same friction again. You move your hips a third and you're letting your desires take over.
You hump on Sukuna's cock sloppily and roughly, the car is shaking. Sukuna let's out soft groans and moans, the constant "love feeling your cunt around my cock like this" whispered and growled into your ear. His eyes travel down to your chest, eyes gleaming when he sees your boobs bouncing in sync with everytime you hump on him.
When he looks back at you, all his other sense go numb. The sight of you with your tongue out your mouth, you drool dripping down your tongue, your face flushed and your eyes crossed together at the feeling of it being so good has him gripping on your hips tightly. "You're a fucking slut, aren't ya?" He begins thrusting himself inside you and you moan loudly, your toes curling at the feeling of his sac slapping against your skin. "Aren't ya?!" He yells and all you could do is whimper as you nod your head. He's fucking you so dumb you couldn't form coherent words.
He rolls his hips as he thrusts them, making sure you feel every single inch of him inside you. Your moans are in sync with his thrusts, feeling your breath being knocked out of your system with every thrust the curse does.
Your hand flies up your mouth, trying to surpress the loud moans that keep slipping out of your lips but Sukuna wraps his hand around your wrist, pulling your hand away.
"Scream for me, come on princess. Let him know who's fucking you so good right now." His voice is low and deep, it drives you to the edge, almost pushing you off. "Wh-who? Who's him?" You ask, forcing your eyes to open as you look down at Sukuna- your eyebrows raise in surprise at the sight of the black lines on your boyfriend's face gone.
Yuji looks up at you with eyes holding such lust. He has a straight expression on as he looks into your eyes, kind of hypnotising you as he thrusts into you, leading the both of you to your highs.
"Wh-what happened to Sukuna-"
"Why are you looking for him." Yuji's voice is covered in coldness. He combs his fingers on the back of your head and throughyour hair, curling them into a fist as he pulls on your hair. "He's not the one fucking you right now, I am." His thrusts start becoming more aggressive, hinting at you that he's already close.
"You'll cum around my cock a second time and you'll be moaning my name out as loud as you can. Got it?" Yuji growls onto your neck. His other hand grabs onto your hip and begins thrusting into you faster than before. You feel something snap inside you, your orgasm causing your toes to curl and your fingernails to be dug onto your boyfriend's skin. "Y-Yuji!" Your hips shake as you begin rolling them around, riding out your orgasm.
"That's not my name right now, princess." You look back down only to feel your heart drop at the sight of the black lines all over his face. "S-S-Sukuna! Sukuna!" You moan out, your chest rising and falling exceptionally. You hear him chuckle before feeling him pull out, shooting his hot seed all over your naked cunt.
You look back up, checking to see who's who right now. You smile when you see it's your boyfriend. You press your forehead on his shoulder as you try to calm yourself down. You feel his arms wrap themselves around you as the two of you bask in each other's presence.
"You gotta stop doing that, it fucks up with my brain." You mumble onto his chest which only leaves you with a lighthearted chuckle. "But Sukuna says he doesn't want to be left out."
"Whatever, Sukuna can go fuck off." You mumble sleepily.
"Why don't you fuck me yourself, princess?" A deeper and much darker voice speaks up and you curse yourself mentally.
navigation
#itadori yuji#itadori x reader#sukuna#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#itadori x y/n#itadori x you#itadori smut#sukuna smut#itadori fluff#jujutsu kaisen itadori#jjk thirsts#jujutsu kaisen
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Third Wheeling
CEO!Yoongi x Reader
Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut
Chapter 8.
Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage
Warnings In This Chapter: Angst
A/N: Always the most gigantic, humongous shoutout to my loves @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia, @ppersonna for rooting me on and making it so easy to write these characters who I have come to adore!
The house was quiet when you first woke up. There's an overwhelming sense of comfort in the air as you step out of your bedroom.
You've been getting into a daily routine here, without it you'd probably feel lost or without a purpose.
You really adored the small waterfall alcove beside your room. The sounds are so peaceful and the koi that swim beneath the glass floor are absolutely gorgeous. Entering here was always the beginning of your daily routine.
You weren't fond of wearing heels and for the first time in a long time you had on sneakers. After feeling sick for a few days you decided on a comfortable hoodie, albeit still expensive but you like it. The leggings you wear hug you closely and it brings you ease.
"Little dove?" you hear from behind as you stare down at the koi fish.
"Morning," you say, turning your head to the CEO as he leans against the doorframe of his bedroom.
His eyes are bleary, his forehead creased from the bright light that bleeds through the stained glass windows.
"Why do you always get up so fucking early? You should be sleeping, the baby needs rest. Does it not?" he asks, scratching at his neck with a yawn.
"I'm used to getting up this early, I did have a job not too long ago," you reply, looking over the waterfall walls.
He puts his head back against the door frame, his fingers combing through his sleepy bed head.
"I shouldn't be speaking to you anyway. It's before your morning coffee," you jeer, sitting down on the marble bench.
"Shut up," he retorts but you can hear the humor in his voice. You notice the corners of his lips flickering upward as he shoves off of the doorway.
"Madam?" you hear from the end of the hall.
Your attention turns to Maya as she bows.
Yoongi watches your face light up, he sees the true joy in you and he snorts gently in response. You're really a blessing to this house.
"Good morning Maya!" you say, standing up from the bench quickly.
"Easy does it, little dove." Yoongi murmurs, folding his arms.
"The neighbor Kim Yoona is here to see you." Tilting your head, you can't begin to register the name.
Yoongi laughs gently as he enters the hallway.
"Get me an Irish coffee, please Maya. I'm going to need it if Yoona is here," you turn to him as he speaks, watching as he rubs hand fists over his eyes.
"Who's Yoona?" you ask softly.
"Namjoon's wife. She's actually really sweet. Which is against my religion... so," he says before putting his hand on your lower back to escort you to the staircase.
You don't pull away from him oddly enough. You let him guide you, it's easier than fighting so early in the morning.
"She went to Sairmount Academy like us, too." he notifies you as you descend the stairs together.
"Huh." you mumble thoughtfully.
There were very few memories of Sairmount Academy you remembered. It's kind of bizarre knowing that Yoongi was around all throughout your schooling.
You didn't care to remember many things from school. It was always the same, you were poor and people were rich. You were bullied, Leena and Jin were the only ones who cared for you.
"Morning Yoona," Yoongi says as you reach the bottom floor.
Turning to you, you take in the woman who stands by the couch. She has light brown hair with dirty blonde highlights. Her body is slim and proportionate adorning light ripped jeans and a cashmere turtleneck. The thing that stands out the most though, is her paddock boots. She must really love her horses. She's clean cut and absolutely gorgeous.
But, as she smiles something seems familiar to you.
"Morning, Yoongles," he grimaces at her nickname, accepting the coffee that is rushed over to him.
"Why are you here?" he asks, leaning against the marble stairwell banister.
"Came to see an old friend." Yoona replies.
Tilting your head, your eyes begin to widen.
If she had black, long hair with small polka dot bows and if she was years younger, she would look exactly like an old friend.
"Bang Yoona?" You ask softly and she points to herself with a comical wink.
"That's me," she cheers happily.
"Oh my God!" you cry out, rushing over to hug her.
Yoongi raises an eyebrow as he watches you both hug. His heart warms at the sight of your pure excitement.
"Small world," he murmurs above the lip of his coffee cup.
"I changed my last name when I got married," she tells you, placing both hands on either side of your face as she pulls away.
You can remember when you were little. Yoona welcomed you quite like Leena. You were happy to spend time with her when you were seven. But, after time went on, she left to Germany with her parents when they accepted different jobs.
You were sad back then having only Leena but then it became a distant memory as you got older.
"You look amazing!" you compliment her as she brushes some hair behind your ear.
"As do you! Once Joon told me that it's you that got pregnant with Yoongi's baby I had to see you!" Yoongi smirks gently as you pull away from one another.
"This is such a pleasant surprise!" you cheer as she slings her arm over your shoulders.
"Come spend the day at my house. Leave Yoongi to his sad self," she winks at you and you giggle in reply.
"Fuck you." Yoongi mumbles. Yoona sticks her tongue out at him before pulling you towards the door.
"I'll show you my horses! They're so beautiful!" she tells you enthusiastically.
"Hey." Yoongi calls to you, whistling loudly for your attention.
You turn to him, a wide smile on your face which makes him smirk.
"Be careful and no riding the horses with the baby inside of you," he says pointedly.
You nod happily before hooking your arm around Yoona's waist.
"Watch out for her!" Yoongi calls to her and she snorts gently as you both walk up the entryway steps.
"Always. I probably know her better than you do," she retorts with a laugh.
Yoongi grimaces at the thought before rolling his eyes.
"Yeah well she's having my baby," he retorts softly.
He watches the front door close as he sips his coffee.
"Maya!" he calls to the empty house as he pushes himself off the stairwell.
"Sir?" he hears in the distance.
"Bring me my yearbooks!" he calls as he begins to ascend the stairs.
You better be careful or he'll raise hell with the Kims.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2dbfcd64a66e24243ad37f2909e28c44/c6eace61eadb17a9-a6/s540x810/3d90de3baa94be03521c39dae75d38427311c661.jpg)
The walk to Namjoon's house is absolutely breathtaking. You've always stuck around the house, taking walks around the long stoned paths by the garden. But now, walking towards the large mansion in the distance, you can only be in awe of the sights before you.
"I cannot believe what a small world we live in." Yoona says, ripping you out of your trance.
You giggle as she hugs you tightly to her side.
"I know," you reply as you both move out of the way as a car passes by.
The limousine begins to slow down, the window sliding down as well.
Very unfortunate for you, the face of Sera is right in your sights.
"Good morning Yoona! You look ravishing today!" Sera's voice is filled with overly sweet tones.
Your stomach begins to roll at how fake she is.
"Hi." Yoona says briskly, hand gripping beneath your arm tighter.
"See you've taken on a pet project. How gracious of you." Sera says, leaning her body out the window and grimacing in your direction.
Your friend from childhood stops in her tracks. "I think Y/N is delightfully where she should be in life. Unlike you, Sera. If anyone needs a pet project, I'll be sure to have them reach out to you."
You can hear Sera scoff loudly as Yoona tugs you down the road.
"Oh, and Sera?" Yoona calls Yoongi's wife.
You watch the pretty woman angle her head out of the car as if she would be expecting an apology.
"It's 2020, no one drives around in a limousine anymore. It's an embarrassing way to flaunt your money. You should get a Rolls Royce or an Astin Martin. No one wants to see you in a rickety old limo. That shit is for the birds," you put your hand over your mouth, gasping with a laugh as Yoona tugs you down toward her mansion.
"I cannot believe you!" you squeal as she laughs loudly.
Entering Namjoon and Yoona's house you're astounded at how different yet gorgeous it is to where you live now.
The house has an English feel to it, limestone and wooden hardware really bring it all together. The house screams Victorian Gothic and you find it all so wonderful.
"What do you think?" Yoona asks as she passes through the sitting room
"This is beautiful, Yoona. I can't even believe it!" you say in awe. Your eyes glance up, looking at the chandelier before she's tugging you into the next room.
"Namjoon and I are a bit obsessed with old English history. Like this, this is my most prized possession in the whole house," she says stopping in front of a large glass case.
Looking down, your eyes widen so big they could almost fall out of your head.
Gorgeous jewels and diamonds sit nestled in silver and gold. There are crowns, necklaces, earrings and all sorts of other baubles.
"Holy shit!" you whisper out.
Your hands situate behind your back as if you're in a museum.
"All of these belonged to King Henry the Eighth and his many wives! My favorite is Anne Boleyns." Yoona says pointing at a crown that is more grandiose than all of the others.
"Yoona, these are really beautiful," you breathe out.
She wrinkles her nose gently, leaning against the varnished hardwood table.
"Ready to go see my horses?" she asks as her maid brings you both glasses of water.
You nod to her happily as you move away from the royal jewelry.
Stepping out into the backyard of her house, you can't seem to see where the line is drawn between her house and Yoongis. The grass is perfectly cut and a luscious green that makes you feel at peace.
"Just over here." Yoona calls to you as she takes off toward the horse barn.
"Whoa." It feels as if you're almost in a movie.
You can see men walking to and fro with metal buckets filled with water and different foods. They all have on the same uniforms, something akin to what jockeys would wear before a big race.
The horse barn, as you approach, looks just like a home. Something comfortable and clean that could very well have people living inside of it.
"My pride and joy is Rapture. He's won five awards since he's been born and he is the biggest sweetheart," your heart warms at how enthusiastic your childhood friend sounds.
The barn doors open and you feel as if you've been thrust into a fairytale.
There are six horses, all beautifully kept with various colors and sizes on their coats. Whinies and neighs enrapture your ears as the animals spot Yoona.
"It's like you're the Snow White of horses," you whisper to her as she picks up some carrots by the front door.
"Well, they're my babies," she replies, a motherly smile plastered on her face.
"Jooheon," she calls out.
You watch a man around your age appear. His hair is a light shade of blue and his eyes are soft and doe-like. His cheeks are high and his jaw is sharp like it has been carved by the gods.
He's incredibly tall and muscular, his thick thighs quiver and flex as he walks towards you both.
"Madams," he says, bowing down to you both.
His eyes lock with yours as he stands back up, a smirk on his features as he winks at you.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2dbfcd64a66e24243ad37f2909e28c44/c6eace61eadb17a9-a6/s540x810/3d90de3baa94be03521c39dae75d38427311c661.jpg)
Finally, Yoongi had brought home his laptop for work. He hasn't really given much thought to why he feels the need to stay home so much these days. He doesn't want to think about it, he just lets things be.
Throwing his feet up on his desk, his eyes falter to the stack of yearbooks that Maya has so kindly brought him.
Seeing Yoona this morning, someone he's always known suddenly knowing you, it made him curious.
How could he have gone throughout all of his Sairmount schooling AND college to never know you?
Sipping his coffee, he opens up the first yearbook.
His eyes narrow at the pages, looking over all the small kids with the same uniforms.
"Y/N. Y/N." he mumbles as his index finger glazes over the children's faces.
His eyebrows crease as he leans back in his desk chair.
You were in none of these pictures, not that he could see anyway.
Flipping through the pages of the book, he passes the newspaper club, the computer club, the chess club before finding solo pictures of each student.
His lips puff out as he skims along the pictures.
"Holy shit," he whispers, setting down his coffee cup.
There you were. Small and cute in front of his eyes.
But, there's something familiar about you as he continues to stare at the picture. You with your small tie and blazer, he feels like he's always known you.
Then it hits him, you were in his class. He fucking remembers you, sitting three seats behind him in History.
Purchasing his hand beneath his chin, he stares at the small pictures in his history textbook. He couldn't be bothered to study for the pop quiz and he knows that he probably failed.
His father was going to be disappointed, as always. His father is never proud of anything he does so why should this matter.
"Sir Min," the teacher, Mrs. Park, calls to him.
With the roll of his eyes, he looks up at his teacher.
"Yeah," he mumbles as Hoseok slides a note beneath the lip of his book.
"Do you realize that I've been calling your name for the past three minutes?" Mrs. Park asks as she leans down on her desk.
Running his fingers through his hair, the tip of his tongue grazes over his teeth. He leans back in his own chair, eyes glazing over the teacher with a bored expression.
"No. I was too busy looking at what underwear people used to wear," he mutters aloud.
He can hear other kids snickering and murmuring at his joke. A sly smirk begins to spread over his face while he fixes his tie.
"You think this is funny? You think failing is funny?" she quips as she holds up the quiz.
He can feel his neck heating up out of embarrassment.
"The future heir of Kisung can't even pass a history quiz? Maybe your parents should get a phone call," she asks him, her legs wading through the multitude of desks before plopping the sheet down on his table.
He takes in all the red lines that are scoured over the paper.
"I bet you can't even tell me when the Mongols invaded the Goryeo dynasty," she says earning a multitude of hushed voices.
He turns his head to the others behind him, his eyes dancing over the kids that sit with their eyes on their desks.
Then they falter to you as you stare at him shamelessly. Your small hands form fists as you look from him to Mrs. Park.
Secretly, you begin to raise your fingers.
One.
Two.
One.
Six.
He clears his throat as your eyes falter to your desk and he turns back to the teacher as she raises her eyebrow.
"The Mongols invade Goryeo in 1216," Yoongi says as he swings his arm over the lip of his chair.
She purses her lips at his answer, eyes narrowing at him.
Maybe your information was wrong.
"Well, if you knew that then why did you fail the quiz?" she asks softly, retreating to her desk at the front of the class.
He breathes a gentle sigh of relief, turning his head to you. He nods to you as Leena pinches your arm. Nodding back, the corner of your lips flicker upwards before pinching your best friend.
Yoongi chuckles to himself as he recalls the memory.
You saved his sorry ass that day, if it wasn't for you he would have had to kneel on rice in a corner for God knows how long.
"Interesting," he whispers to himself as he continues to flicker through the yearbook.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2dbfcd64a66e24243ad37f2909e28c44/c6eace61eadb17a9-a6/s540x810/3d90de3baa94be03521c39dae75d38427311c661.jpg)
"You have a phone call, Mrs. Kim," someone announces from the entrance to the horse barn.
She hums in reply, running her hand over the soft mane of Rapture.
"I'll just be a minute, why don't you spend time with the horses. They seem to love you," she suggests and you nod happily as Rapture rubs his large face against yours.
Giggling, you hold out an apple slice for him and he takes it without complaint.
"You're so pretty," you tell the horse as he munches happily on the slice.
"Do you know anything about horses?" you hear from behind you.
Turning to the owner of the voice, you smile gently as Jooheon wipes a rag over his sweaty face.
"Unfortunately not. But, they're very beautiful," you reply as Rapture nuzzles the back of your head.
The stableman chuckles as the horse rests his head on your shoulder.
"Rapture always finds it easy to feel comfortable around gorgeous women," you can feel the apples of your cheeks blushing as Jooheon tosses the rag he holds up in the air.
"I'm sure you really like this job," you say, running your hand over the horse's neck.
He nods to your statement, leaning back against one of the wooden doors. "I've always liked animals more than people. When you look into a horse's eyes, you can see so much emotion. You can practically see their souls bare in front of you."
His admission makes you think. You can understand people that love and respect animals more than people.
"That's really sweet," you tell him as he fixes his uniform.
He gives you a smile, one that's enchanting showing off his perfectly white teeth.
"It's just the truth," he replies as Rocket, an all white horse, nuzzles his face.
"I know, girl. Don't get jealous cause I'm talking to a pretty woman," he whispers and this time your ears heat up.
"The Madam was telling everyone that you're an old school friend," he says, patting the horse's face.
You nod, a reminiscent smile on your features. "Yeah. Yoona was a good friend when we were younger."
He takes delight in how you smile, how perfectly shy you are.
"Did you move in around here?"
"Yeah. I'm living with the Min's," you answer as Rapture snorts gently onto your cheek.
"Must be nice to have money," he quips.
You shake your hands quickly. "Oh. I'm not rich."
He hums playfully, looking over your expensive attire with an unsure eye.
"I thought Min Yoongi was married," he counters as he slides his right foot up onto the stable door behind him.
You watch his thighs flex once more before clearing your throat. "He is. I'm just... I'm pregnant with his... y'know... his baby."
Jooheon whistles loudly at the admission. "Interesting. But, you're not dating him, are you?"
The question makes you laugh, feeding another apple slice to Rapture while shaking your head. "No. I am not."
Jooheon nods slowly as he stands up and you can hear the horse barn door opening to your right. "Can I ask you out on a date then?"
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2dbfcd64a66e24243ad37f2909e28c44/c6eace61eadb17a9-a6/s540x810/3d90de3baa94be03521c39dae75d38427311c661.jpg)
Puffing from his cigar, Yoongi leans back into the armchair he sits in. His fingers pull and push at his cards on the green felt.
"I call." Jeongguk mumbles and the CEO tosses some extra chips into the center of the poker table.
Although Jimin was invited to tonight's poker game, Yoongi thought it wise that he didn't accept. The shorter man was hanging on by a hair, the last time he was in this house.
Guk was more than happy to sit in his seat beside Taehyung for the evening.
The classical music swells throughout the room and Yoongi stares down at the chips in hand. Once that memory of you from childhood came flooding back, he can remember smaller ones too.
Ones like when you were being bullied or when the girls tried to steal your lunch. He can remember all the times he heard Leena screaming to protect you, and he finds himself feeling more accepting of her.
"Yoona had a great time with Y/N today. She loves her," Namjoon says, earning everyone's attention.
"Well I think they used to be friends, no? I don't remember much about Y/N but I remember that she was friends with Leena, Yoona and of course Jin," Hoseok says.
"What do you mean 'of course Jin?'" Yoongi finds himself asking, something inside of him growing terse and annoyed.
"Well he was always with them. He was Leena's boyfriend when we were younger too. He was the only boy that used to hang around with them."
He starts to simmer down at his admission. "Oh," Yoongi whispers.
"Read 'em and weep, hyungs," Jeongguk says with a smug grin, flipping over his cards.
Taehyung groans long and low, his hands carding through his hair as Guk shows them a straight flush.
"Goddamn. This kid wins in everything! Whether it's boxing, car racing or cards!" Tae complains as Guk collects his chips.
Yoongi chuckles to himself, lifting his whisky glass to his lips.
"I'm really glad Y/N has a friend around here." Namjoon says and to this the Kisung CEO nods.
He wants you to thrive. He can say this until his face turns blue.
As Maya begins to deal the cards once more, the library door slowly begins to open. The sound draws everyone's attention and they stay silent as you enter.
Your face is buried in a book, your feet slowly shuffling into the big room. The sight of you makes Yoongi smirk, your hand is pressed on your flat stomach as you continue farther into the room.
You look precious. Your hair is slightly wet from a shower not too long ago and your eyes are enraptured with the words you read.
"Beautiful," he whispers under his breath but the sound is swallowed by Namjoon clearing his throat.
You look up quickly, clearly startled by the noise.
"Oh my God, it's Thursday! I'm so sorry!" you cry out as you slam the large book in hand shut.
"No worries, little dove. Come. Get a book," Yoongi calls to you as you try to leave.
"Hey Y/N." Namjoon says with a comforting smile.
Your eyes meet his and the friendly face makes you smile widely. "Hi Joon. Good evening!"
You wink at Maya, scurrying behind her to find a new book to read.
Oh, Joon is it?
Yoongi rolls his eyes as he burns out his cigar. He wafts the smoke away from your direction, picking up his whisky glass.
You had changed your clothes. Now wearing a purple free flowing sundress.
Might be better to not have tight clothes on, if they make you uncomfortable. The father of your child finds himself thinking.
"Y/N. Can you tell Leena to call me, please?" Taehyung whines.
Turning to him, you narrow your eyes playfully.
Why can't Yoongi see you like this? Is it because he's too big of a dick?
He wishes you would be so free with him…
"Tae. I'm told that you're in the dog house," you jeer as you grab a book.
Tae, is it?
Yoongi gulps down the rest of his drink, his throat burning as his gut explodes with alcoholic fire.
"Tell her I'll book the penthouse. I promise," he says, holding out his pinky.
Humming cutely, you step onto the platform beside Maya. Grabbing his pinky, he gives you a wink and it almost sends Yoongi onto the fucking floor.
"Don't you have some reading to do, little dove?" he asks quickly, watching how tightly Taehyung grips at your pinky.
You look over at the CEO before nodding. He gives you a small smile and your heart stutters as you return it.
"I'm Jeongguk! But, you can just call me Guk or Gukkie," the youngest calls to you.
You bow your head to him with a smile. "Nice to meet you."
"That's Hoseok," Namjoon says, pointing his thumb to the left of him.
You give a small wave before looking down at the book you hold.
"Well I'll let you get back to it. I'll just be reading," you say, mostly to Yoongi.
He nods above the lips of his glass, watching you press the book to your flat womb.
You're fucking endearing as all hell.
"Or, you can join us," Joon suggests.
Yoongi grimaces at the idea. Why would he fucking ask you to stay? In a room with all these handsome men? No.
"No. She said she wants to rea-" the father of your child begins to say before you cut him off.
"I might destroy you," you quip and his mouth hangs open at your banter.
Yoongi watches as Maya begins to smile, a proud smirk gracing her features already.
"Poker is about luck," Hoseok jeers.
"Well I did get knocked up on a pass by. Seems like I'm pretty lucky," you joke, making the others laugh.
Yoongi snorts to himself as you share camaraderie with his friends.
"That's my baby you're talking about," he says, pointing his index finger over the lip of his glass to you.
You give him a warm smile, the apples of your cheeks raising as you giggle.
"Here, noona. You can sit in my seat," Guk says and it rubs Yoongi the wrong way almost immediately.
"She can have my seat, you're a guest," he says quickly.
"Oh no, it's fine. Noon-"
"Y/N, come." Yoongi's voice is strict and you roll your eyes at his commanding demeanor.
Setting down the book on the lip of the table, you take his seat. He stands behind you, handing the burnt out cigar and ashtray to Maya.
The smell might make you feel sickly.
"Jeongguk always wins," Hoseok notifies you and you hum curiously.
"We'll see," you reply as you begin to stack Yoongi's poker chips. He can smell your shampoo, violets and vanilla--it smells amazing.
"You know how to play?" He whispers softly in your ear, you shiver at his warm breath, smelling the alcohol on his pallet.
It reminds you of your first night together and you press your thighs into one another at the memory.
"Oh, I know how to play," you reply.
He places his hand on your shoulder as Maya begins to deal.
"Don't spend all of my money, we play with real bucks here," Yoongi says, his thumb grazing over the softness of your skin.
You feel yourself relax as his skin grazes yours. It feels comfortable, it feels kind of right.
Lifting your cards, your thumb skims over the tops and Yoongi holds his breath waiting for what you're going to do.
A diamond ace and a ten of diamonds sits in your hand. Yoongi presses down on your shoulder, almost as if he's proud of you.
"Raise," you mumble as Yoongi slides his thumb over the column of your neck.
You can see all the other billionaires staring at you and you calmly grab three poker chips before throwing them into the middle of the table.
"She's got a good poker face," Hoseok quips as he lifts his glass of brandy.
You feel your heart pick up speed as Yoongi slides his free hand over your other shoulder.
"Good girl." He whispers softly in your ear and your eyes flutter shut at his praise.
What the fuck is going on?
This Yoongi, the one behind you feels so different than the man who you moved in with just a week or so ago.
"Who are you and what have you done with Yoongi?" you quip into his ear softly.
You watch as Maya begins to flip three cards, you snort gently as a king, a queen and a four, of the same suit appear.
"He's gone." Yoongi murmurs, earning widened eyes from you as you focus on your cards.
You watch as the others toss chips into the middle and you throw a few more as Yoongi sips his whisky.
Your stomach begins to coil as he presses his thumbs down into your shoulders with soothing circles. He's fucking massaging you.
You find your body relaxing into his chest and stomach.
Yoongi watches the way your thighs quiver as you cross your legs. He can see the back of your neck flushing and his tongue licks over his bottom lip slowly.
"So, Y/N," Joon says, elbowing Hoseok with a wink. You shy away from the CEO's touch and he feels like he's being rejected all in a quick second.
Yoongi sighs gently, his eyes flutter shut and he loosens his grip on you.
"Yoona tells me you got a date today," you clear your throat uncomfortably as the men look pointedly at you.
Yoongi's eyes widen at the new information. He pulls away from you, making up the excuse in his mind to grab another grab of whisky.
He can feel the rage beginning to burn through him, as if someone has lit the end of a stick of dynamite. His eyes flutter shut and he steadies himself on the lip of the bar.
How fucking dare someone try to ask you out. How dare they?
"Oh well, Jooheon is really kind," he hears how soft your tone is and he can't help the way his hand shakes as he picks up the whisky bottle.
Why does the prospect of you dating drive him almost to the brink of insanity?
"You told him no, right?" he finds himself asking, he stares at his reflection through the mirrored wall. His face is pink with anger, the veins in his neck protruding as he grips tightly onto his glass.
You can't see him, but you can hear how livid he is.
"Well, I-" before you can even reply, he's charging across the room.
His hand grips at your arm and without a second thought he's tugging you to the library door.
You swallow thickly as he kicks the door open with his foot in a moment of blind rage.
"Yoongi!" you complain as he pulls you into the game room next door.
He slams the door shut behind him, his back presses into the cherry wood. Narrowing his eyes at you, he sneers.
"You told him no, right?! You do remember the contract, correct? Or, are your childish feminine hormones making you blind?" he barks out.
Your face begins to set into a scowl as you continue to stare at him. Why not be a brat? It's something you're quite good at when you're upset with him.
"Well if I can't get cock from you, then I'll have to get it elsewhere," your statement drops like a bomb and in a second he's pushing you up against the wall.
"Don't you fucking dare get snarky with me, like that. No cocks are going in this tight little cunt, do you understand me?" he seethes through his teeth.
Your eyes meet his, both sets are glaring and determined.
"Well then, guess you should have accepted my offer to fuck me," you quip.
He chuckles darkly, the sound shaking you to the core. And, for the first time he places his hand over your stomach.
"You couldn't handle this cock in your pregnant pussy, believe me. If I even see you with another man, I'll fuck him up."
"Why, jealous?" you ask as his thumb swipes over your stomach.
The feeling of his hand over your child can only compare to the sun. It feels wonderful.
"What do I have to be jealous of? I have it all. And that includes you. You're mine," he barks out and you hum unsurely, turning your face away from him as his forehead presses to yours.
"Just because I'm having your baby, that doesn't make me yours," you reply, your eyes focus on the pinball machines at the far end of the room.
"Yeah. It really does, little dove," you can hear the agitation in his voice, the annoyance he feels can match yours.
The tip of his nose grazes over your cheekbone as he presses his face closer.
The burning anger in him subsiding as he continues to drift his hand over your stomach.
"Just... don't." It's practically a plea falling from his lips.
Your eyes flutter shut at his now soft tone.
"I told him no," you whisper and you can feel his breath of relief as it rushes over your lips and neck.
"Then why are you pissing me off?" he asks gruffly.
"Because you made me mad," you retort as his hands grip at your sides.
He stays silent for a second before responding.
"I know. I'm getting way too good at that. I'm sorry," he whispers.
You swallow thickly, he's apologizing? He's really not himself today.
"Did you get a concussion?" you ask as he pulls away from you.
He raises an eyebrow as he keeps you at arms length. His fingers comb through his hair, a few odd strands falling back into his eyes.
"A concussion? What?" he replies, confused.
"You're acting weird," you comment as he fixes his blazer.
He begins to smirk as he leans back against the pool table. "I told you, old Yoongi is gone."
Humming unsurely, you intertwine your fingers.
"I'd really like it if you could not give me whiplash every few minutes. Makes it a lot bearable on my neck," you say as you fix your dress.
His eyes falter to your swollen breasts, his tongue licks over his lips while he does his best to calm his breathing.
"I'll be more thoughtful," he whispers and you bite your bottom lip, nodding carefully.
"We should get back," you tell him as you push off of the wall.
He nods gently and he grips at your wrist as you try to walk away from him. You turn to him as his eyes become softer. "No boyfriends, no dates."
You smirk as you look him over. "No boyfriends. No dates," you promise and he cups your cheek gently without even thinking.
"I like the fierce you. Makes my heart feel warm," he comments, leaving you in the game room on your own.
When he touches you, it makes your heart feel warm as well.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2dbfcd64a66e24243ad37f2909e28c44/c6eace61eadb17a9-a6/s540x810/3d90de3baa94be03521c39dae75d38427311c661.jpg)
Next Chapter --->
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2dbfcd64a66e24243ad37f2909e28c44/c6eace61eadb17a9-a6/s540x810/3d90de3baa94be03521c39dae75d38427311c661.jpg)
Third Wheeling Taglist- @wickizer, @imluckybitches, @slothykreuger, @claireelise19, @ggukkieland, @rspbrryy, @iv-bts, @bambuzlee, @chanelbts, @mxxngxdss, @bluewhale52, @milesjeon11, @diamonddia-mond, @vinylphwoar, @yxnxxli, @hubbytaehyung, @140503at-dawn, @bts-7beauts, @jadeblackwoll, @sunshiine-hobii, @creatorspalace, @eclectically-esoteric, @nikkiordonez12, @kaitswrld, @skamlover200, @sevgilove98, @kooeuphoria, @jikooksgirl19, @hobbledehoy26, @singular-itae, @dchimminie, @lowlifeoeuvre, @sugaslittlekookies, @bloopbloopb, @pjmcth, @softysuho, @codeinbelle, @jaiuneamesolitaiire, @betysotelo18, @jeonmisha, @iwanttohitmyself, @ayyyocee, @neverthefirstchoice, @itsbangtanoclock, @little7bitchh, @veryuniquenamegoeshere, @deathkat657, @firstlovesuga-93, @namjoonia, @paperpurple, @muzikabijou, @liebeoppa, @veronawrites, @kleff03, @ruinsofangels, @brightwingr5, @leekanchol, @rkivemagic, @ithinkileftmycoatoutside, @melaninkpops, @y00ngisbabygirl, @ungodlyjoon, @prochnost513, @dunixxd, @athenakyle, @igotnotype, @chxmachxps, @tinymintyoongi, @vangameren-blog, @alpaca1612, @ohcarolinamin, @thegreatestsushi, @jooniebugg, @eltrain80, @btsmylife21, @deeepvibes, @httpminyg, @deliciouslydisturbed365, @rkchmestizangmaldita, @jimin-chu, @pimpnameyannie, @preciouschimine, @daughterofthequeen, @monetsberet, @vanillamyg, @aamxxrii, @kooafraid, @ladykadyrova, @singjisu, @yazanii
Some people couldn’t be tagged! I’m sorry about that!
#third wheeling#thebtswritersclub#btswritingcafe#btscreatorscorner#ficswithluv#ceo!yoongi#ceo!bts#min yoongi#yoongi angst#slow burn#yoongi x reader#yoongi x you#bts series
822 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tis the Damn Season
Pairing: Tom Holland x reader
Based off Tis The Damn Season
Masterlist
It was his jacket.
It was 100% his jacket, the red plaid one he only wore for the holidays.
And there it was, that stupid red jacket, standing in front of the tea section of your local grocery store.
He used to drape that jacket over your shoulders when you got cold on dates. Now, you wore a coat he had never seen before and you had no idea who’s shoulders had taken your please.
It had to be him. It just had to be your ex boyfriend in the one grocery store in town on the very day you decided to run some errands.
He just had to be there.
You immediately turned around, hoping to avoid a reunion with who that jacket belonged to. You looked over your shoulder at him and accidentally made eye contact, making you whip around and flush. You cursed yourself as you heard Tom approaching you, wishing you could disappear into this air.
“Y/n?” His voice sounded behind you. “Is that you?”
“Tom!” You pretended to see him for the first time as you turned around. He looked different, but after all, it had been four years since you’d seen him. Just from the look of him, you could tell there was an ache in him put there by the ache in you. But despite the ache, he pulled you into a hug.
“Hey.” He sighed as he rubbed your back. “It’s been a long time.”
“I know. I haven’t seen you since high school.” You chuckled nervously as you pulled away.
“Wow.” Tom was taken aback. “Has it really been that long?”
“Yeah.” You told him. “The night of our graduation was the last time I ever saw you.”
“Right.” Tom smiled sadly. “You just graduated college right? In June?”
“Yeah.” You nodded, feeling the tension between you. “How’d you know about that?”
“Your mum and I kept in touch.” He admitted. “She sent me pictures. Congratulations, by the way.”
“Oh, thanks.” You laughed awkwardly. “I’m gonna have to talk to her about sending pictures to my high school boyfriend.”
“Yeah.” He laughed as well, before clearing his throat. “You know, I looked for you every time I came home for the holidays. All fours years of college.”
“I know. And I made sure you never found me.” You forced a smile, an uncomfortable silence settling between you avoided eye contact.
“Y/n, I’m so sorry about that night. Graduation night, I mean.” Tom said suddenly. “I didn’t know you were gonna react like that.”
“You didn’t know I was gonna be upset when you waited to tell me you were leaving town to pursue acting until the week before you were leaving?” You cocked your head but kept a smile on your face so you wouldn’t seem reproachful.
“I didn’t know you were gonna break up with me and stop speaking to me.” He corrected you, also keeping a slight smile on his face.
“I was mad at you.” You admitted. “I was mad you waited so long to tell me.”
“Are you still mad?” He teased, making you chuckle. “Am I the subject of a bunch of break up songs I don’t know about?”
“No.” You smiled coyly. “I stopped being mad by the time school started up again. Then I just missed you.”
“You did? I missed you too.” Toms eyes softened. “I called you all summer. You never picked up.”
“Like I said, I was mad.” Your lips tightened into a line as you looked around awkwardly.
“Yeah.” Tom laughed sadly and looked down. “You broke my heart.”
“You broke mine first.” You countered. “So I guess we broke each other’s.”
Tom looked at you for a moment before shrugging, seemingly making a decision.
“We could call it even.” He suggested. “We could put all of that behind us and just enjoy each other’s company while we’re here.”
“You wanna do that?” You raised an eyebrow. “You want to wipe the slate clean?”
“If it’s okay with you, it’s okay with me.” Tom nodded, making you smile. You had to admit, you missed him terribly. The past was far behind you now and you saw no reason to cling to it.
“All right.” You decided. “I’m staying at my parents house. You should come by sometime.”
“I will. I miss them. I miss adults.” Tom shook his head. “The people in LA are so boring. Actors, especially.”
“Actors, huh?” You snorted. “If I wanted to know who you were hanging with while I was gone, I would've asked you.”
“I wasn’t trying to be boastful.” Tom rolled his eyes playfully. “I was just saying.”
“I’m only teasing you.” You assured him. “I had to make sure the stardom didn’t go to your head.”
“I promise you, it didn’t. I’m still the guy who took you to prom and tripped over your dress.” He reminded you of the simpler times, making you smile.
“What are you doing today?” You asked suddenly, not wanting the reunion to end.
“Nothing. Why?”
“I’m parked over by the Methodist and the high school.” You jerked your head in that direction. “We could just ride around, if you want.”
“Do you still drive that big red truck?” Tom smiled like a child.
“I do indeed.” You nodded.
“Then yeah.” He chuckled. “Let’s go.”
You paid for your groceries and led Tom back to your truck, easily spotting it’s bright red color in the falling snow.
“It’ll be so weird to be back by the school.” Tom shuddered as he looked back at your old high school. “I never wanted to come back here after we graduated.”
“I know.” You agreed. “But the memories aren’t all bad. We kissed for the first time under those bleachers, if I remember correctly.”
“I remember it too.” Tom smiled sheepishly as he went around to the passenger side. “Didn’t you just get here? How did you get this much mud on your tires?”
“We were in Drivers Ed together.” You reminded him. “You know exactly how my tires got muddy.”
“Right.” Tom laughed as he buckled up. “I believe Mr. Zion called you a pleasure to have in class but reckless behind the wheel.”
“You know me, baby. Always taking the road less traveled.”
“Yeah well, that road was apparently full of mud.” Tom said sarcastically as he got in.
You laughed and started up the car, the cold fogging up your windshield, making you reach for the heat. Tom had the same idea, and your hands touched accidentally. You both smiled as you withdrew them, blushing as you turned away.
“Sorry.” You said as you reached for the heat again, an embarrassed smile still on your face.
“It’s okay.” Tom nodded. “I’ve missed your smile.”
“I’m only smiling because I’m in my old car with my high school boyfriend and I’m internally panicking.” You admitted as you began to drive.
“Why are you panicking?” He asked. “We’ve known each other our whole lives.”
“Your life is in LA now.” You shrugged as you kept your eyes ahead. “You don’t know me anymore.”
“I want to.” Tom confessed. “I hated that we fell out of touch. I didn’t know giving this small town meant I had to give up you.”
“Tom, I told you. I’m not mad at you anymore.” You assured him. “And honestly, I don’t even blame you for leaving. We weren’t meant for a life in a small town. As soon as I could, I escaped it too. You just escaped first.”
“I think about that night a lot.” Tom admitted. “You were so excited to graduate. I had to go and ruin it by telling you I was leaving.”
“You were never great with timing.” You laughed softly. “You literally asked me to be your girlfriend right after I told you my cat died.”
Tom laughed as well, but when you looked at his face in the rear view mirror, he still looked upset.
“I’m surprised you even remember that night.” You kept talking to fill the silence. “I thought all the premiers and movie scripts would have replaced any memories of me.”
“Of course I remember you, darling.” He said certainly. “I remember every thing. All the kisses and dates and fights. I even remember your stupid cat.”
“He never liked you.” You laughed as you turned the corner.
“I know.” Tom rolled his eyes. He quieted down after a moment and returned his gaze to the window.
“God, that feels like so long ago.” You sighed with nostalgia. “What else do you remember about this place?”
“I remember your face when I told you I was leaving.” He said quietly, making you look at him briefly. “I remember how your makeup running down your face. And then I remember you watching me leave. I blocked everything else out.”
Upon hearing Toms words and the strain in his voice, you pulled your car over and looked at him.
“Look, you left. It sucked and it broke my heart but it happened. But you know what? It happened four years ago. I’m over it. So all this guilt you’re feeling is unwarranted. We said we were going to call it even, didn’t we?”
“Yeah. We did.” He nodded but his guilt didn’t let up.
“So stop with the pouting and the guilty eyes and the apologies. I forgave you four years ago.” You laughed, and he finally smiled. “You don’t need to apologize.”
“Well, it is the season for forgiveness.” He said sheepishly as his smile widened.
“There you go.” You cupped his chin. “I’ve missed your smile too, you know. And it’s tis the season. It sounds more festive that way.”
“Fine. Tis the season.” He obliged.
“Tis the damn season, indeed.” You nodded curtly. “Plus, this will be our first holiday together since high school. We should be focusing on that. The past doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Do you ever think about what would have happened to us if I stayed?” Tom asked as he kept his eyes on the falling snow. “Or how different our lives would be now if we went down the same path all those years ago?”
“Of course I do.” You said softly. “I thought about you all the time in college. I wondered what it would be like if I had taken your road instead of driving off on my own.”
“I thought about you too.” A sad look set into Toms eyes. “Honestly, darling, I never stopped loving you. Not even for a day.”
“I didn’t know that.” You bit the inside of your cheek. “I didn’t stop either.”
“You know what else?” Tom swallowed as he stared at you. “I think the road not taken looks real good now.”
“Oh yeah?” You raised an eyebrow and leaned across the transmission. “And where does that road lead?”
“To you.” He smiled coyly. “It always leads to you and my hometown.”
“How long are you in town?” You spoke softly as you pulled him closer by the jacket of his collar.
“I’m here until Monday.” He told you as your noses brushed. “Why?”
“I’m staying at my parents house.” You reminded him. “You should stay there too.”
“Yeah?” He tilted his head. “And do what?”
“You could call me “babe” for the weekend.” You shrugged, lips grazing his. “Or anything else you’d like. I believe “darling” was a favorite of yours.”
“You’d want to do that? Even though I’m leaving?” His eyes darkened.
“Why not? I’ll be yours for the weekend. No strings attached.” You told him before connecting your lips to his. Tom kissed you back, putting his palm on your cheek to keep you close. It was your first kiss since high school, and it felt exactly how you remembered. Tom pulled away to catch his breath and rested his forehead against yours.
“So.” His lips twitched into a smile. “When does that weekend start?”
Time flew and Monday came all too quickly. You and Tom spent the weekend making up for the four years you’d been apart. On the day of his fight, you slept in half the day for old times sake. The sunlight hit you, waking you up and malign you curse your teenage self for not putting up thicker curtains. Tom rolling over beside you startled you but his warm hand on your hip calmed you down.
“Morning, babe.” His voice was husky from just waking.
“Good morning.” You rolled over so you were facing him. “Did you sleep okay?”
“Surprisingly yes, considering we’re two adults sharing your twin sized bed.” Tom chuckled sleepily.
“Must’ve been the company.” You shrugged coyly.
“Must be.” Tom grinned before leaning in to kiss you. You kissed him back before nuzzling into the crook of his neck.
“This is how the past four years should have been. I should have been waking up next to you every morning.” Tom sighed as he rubbed your back.
“I know.” You responded before letting a silence settle in. You both knew the weekend was over, and neither of you wanted it to end.
“We should get up.” You said reluctantly. “Your flight is soon.”
“Yeah.” Tom sighed and untangled himself from you. He got out of bed and pulled his shirt on that had been discarded somewhere on the floor. You found your pajama shirt at the edge of the bed and pulled it on, the cold material sending a chill down your spine. You solemnly watched Tom get dressed, noticing how he kept his back to you. He did this to hide his despair as he got ready to leave the warmest bed he’d ever known.
“Tom?” You asked, making him turn around almost immediately.
“Yes?” He asked, hopeful eyes on you.
“Nothing.” You lost your nerve and sat back into the bed. “Never mind.”
“I don’t have to go yet.” He said quickly. “I could stay a few more days.”
“Why?” You asked sadly. “So I can wait around while you decide if this is worth it or not?”
“Well I won’t ask you to wait if you don’t ask me to stay.” Tom answered. “Because I would. If you asked me to, I would stay.”
“What about your life back in LA?” You asked as you got off the bed. “What about your career?”
“I don’t know.” Tom shrugged. “Suddenly that doesn’t matter to me anymore. The last time I left you, all I could think about was making it big. Now all I think about is you.”
You didn’t answer and pulled a sweater over your head, rubbing your arms to assuage you from the chill.
“I messed up last time.” Tom continued. “I never should have left you. Or I should have at least taken you with me.”
“We could have figured something out.” You finally spoke. “I could have looked at schools in LA. You just didn’t give me any time to prepare. Why did you wait so long to tell me?”
“I was so scared that you wouldn’t want to come with me that I just kept putting it off until you couldn’t come anymore.” Tom admitted, tears coming to his eyes as he relived the break up.
“It felt like you were leaving me behind.” You relived it too. “I thought you were running away from me.”
“Darling, I would never run from you.” He promised as he came to your side and put his hands on your face. “Only towards or beside you.”
“You were right.” You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth as you touched his face. “The road not taken looks real good now.”
“We could make this more than a just a weekend.” He mumbled as his thumb grazed your bottom lip. “I’ll stay here or you could come back with me.”
You let your eyes flutter shut before he pulled you into a kiss, one different from the ones shared the night before. You felt your emotions bubble to the surface and pulled away to rest your forehead on his chest.
“Tom, it’s not realistic.” You sniffled. “It worked for the weekend but it wouldn’t work long term. You know that.”
“Just hear me out.” Tom protested as you pulled away.
“We didn’t work when we were kids. What makes you think we’d work now?”
“We’re different now.” He pleaded. “I’m different now.”
“So what, you think I’m just gonna upend my life to follow you? Or you’re just gonna give up yours to stay with me?” You asked. “Are you even thinking at all?”
“I think you’re the only soul who can tell which smiles I’m faking.” Tom said solemnly. “And I think I’m a damn fool if I let you slip away again.”
You sucked in a sharp breath and cradled yourself as you turned away from him, unable to look at him without caving to his request. Tom slowly came up behind you and rested a hand on your shoulder, gently moving the hair that had been resting there.
“I also think that if a part of you didn’t want this too, you would have left a long time ago.” He whispered, sending shivers down your spine.
“You didn’t want this, remember?” You asked bitterly as you whipped around. “You didn’t want the small town life and the picket fence. You wanted bright lights and Hollywood and that’s what you got. That’s what’s waiting for you in LA.”
“Whats waiting for me in LA are fake friends who hang on the edges of their seats to see if I make it or fail. I saw the bright lights and I don’t want it anymore.”
“Then what do you want?” You asked desperately.
“You.” He said simply. “And if you say no, I’ll know that this time, the only heart I’m breaking is my own.”
You chewed your bottom lip as you stared at him, your whole life looking back at you.
“So, what do you say?” He whispered, desperation heavy in his voice. You rested your hands on his chest and gave him a gentle nod, telling him everything he needed to know.
“You said it yourself.” You smiled softly. “Tis the damn season.”
Tag List 🏷
@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @weirdr-artiest @serendipitous-amor @dummiesshort
@foreverxholland @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @andreasworlsboring101 @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland @rebekkah4766 @flixndchill @sovereignparker @thisisthebiplace @spideydobrik @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @itscaminow @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @where-art-thau-romeo @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @parkerboop @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah @kickingn-ames @babeyspidey @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @love-sick-blues @electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @spideyanakin @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @anapocalypseinmymind @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @tomshufflepuff @cookiemonstermusic258
@maybemona @young-romanoff @alexxcorona113 @spideyspeaches @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey @im-still-tryin-to-find-it @big-galaxy-chaos @pandaxnienke @theincredibledeadlyviper @thestylestour @officialsimppage @mrvelscaptains @peterspideysstuff @reemusluupin @peaches-parker @itsemohours @satanswitchings @okkulta @parkerlovebot @sarcasticallywitty15 @mati4188 @geminiparkers @jungkxxkk @friendlyneighborhood-mendes @whatthefuckimbisexual @olixerwxxd @starkbrain @creatorofthegalaxy @far-from-holland @f-hollands @ilovefrogs1000 @itstaskeen @dreamedforu @itmatteredatthetime @rockyrogers
#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#tom holland fluff#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland angst#peter parker x reader#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x you#iron man#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker imagine#taylor swift#evermore
545 notes
·
View notes
Text
Second Chances (Ending 1)
Pairing: Carlisle Cullen x Reader Warnings: Mention of death? Sorrow? Idk, what for the second ending. Author’s Note: I got bored and wanted to write something, so, here you go. Prompt comes from @maxkirin. Thanks! :)
~~~~~
"Hey, promise me. Promise me you'll move on."
"You know I can't do that."
"Say you love me. Can you do that, please?"
"You'll get to hear it forever."
"Carlisle, I love yo-"
...
...
...
Three years.
It had been three years since he lost her.
Carlisle tried to move on, he did. Losing her was the hardest thing he ever had to experience in his very long life.
His family supported him, they tried to help anyway they could. They were the only reason he was still holding on, they needed him so he would be there for him.
But it wasn't enough to keep him alive. Even his new granddaughter, Renesmee could only bring so much light into his life. Everyone knew of who he lost, everyone knew why the excellent doctor of the town wasn't as radiant as he used to be.
But no one would understand his loss. No one would understand his pain. Even Jasper, who could feel it.
Even now as he drove to work, using the same route he did everyday, he missed her with all of his being. He couldn't help the emptiness that threatened to seep into his skin again as he thought about the times she decided to join him on his way to work. She would claim its "on the way", but she just wanted to spend the morning with him before turning around and heading the complete opposite way to get to her workplace.
He felt like a small smile was supposed to be threatening to creep onto his face, but all he felt like doing was crying at the memory.
All he had to do was tell her that he loved her too. But he didn't, he didn't even get to say that to her before she was gone.
He sucked in a deep breath to try and calm his nerves, his eyes scanning through his windshield, glancing over at the trees surrounding the road he drove on alone. His eyes caught onto a strange sign peaking out of the trees. He'd driven down this road hundreds-- thousands of times, and he'd never seen that sign there. He looked closely at it:
"For Sale: Second Chances"
He blinked at it, his brows twitching. Before he could pass the sign, he turned into the strange natural path the sign stood next to, driving into the trees and parking his car. He stepped out, looking down the path.
Carlisle narrowed his eyes, tapping into his hearing to see if he could get a clue as to what this was. He sighed and started walking down the path, extra careful of his surroundings to make sure there wasn't some threat lurking in the shadows.
After walking for a few minutes, he came up on a small shack. There was an open sign hanging on the door spray painted on a piece of wood. The windows were slightly dimmed, but he could see through just fine. There were shelves with empty and filled jars, little boxes, and much more.
He lingered at the door for a moment before opening it and stepping inside. He look around the slightly dusty place with curiosity. What was this place? The items on shelves and sitting on the floor along the walls were strange, but they seemed mundane enough.
"Hello?" He called, filling the silence with his smooth, velvety voice.
An lady peaked her head from a door behind the counter with a smile. She seemed to be in her early forties. She wore a hippie dress, a scarf tied around her head, her lips glossed. Her hair was white, but her skin was a rich, youthful brown. She wore gold hoop earrings, and her hands were decorated with rings. There was an excessive amount of necklaces hanging from her throat, but it somehow worked.
But it was her eyes that caught Carlisle's attention. They held an antiquity to them, like she was older than she looked. But she wasn't a vampire, he knew this.
The woman gave a warm smile, a kind of radiance in it, "Hello, how may I help you?"
He formed the question in his head before saying it out loud, "Who are you?"
She shrugged, her smile never faltering, "Just a shopkeep. Did you come in for our sale?"
Carlisle thought again, he was still confused and curious about everything, so he didn't exactly know how to answer, even with a mind as quick as his. "What is the sale?"
"Our Second Chance Sale," she shopkeep said, tilting her head politely.
"What is that?"
"Exactly what it sounds like. A second chance. Is that what you are in search of? A second chance?" She asked, fluttering her lashes, folding her hands together in question.
He hesitated, "A second chance at what?"
"You tell me, dear," she shrugged, "What is it you wish to fix?"
There was only one thing that came to mind, one thing that was always on his mind every second of every day. He would trade in his life to make things right. But this could easily just be some cruel joke.
But, if it was, the worse that could come of it would be the painful thought that he could have made things right but didn't.
He gave a nod, "I would save her."
She smiled again, holding her hand out to him, "Give me your hand."
Again, he was hesitant. He didn't know what to trust about this. In fact, he should have just gone to work and avoided the contact at all, but he hadn't. He felt a strange pull to this place, to something within it. Some feeling.
He handed her his hand, laying it in her palm as he held his breath. She looked down at it, flipping it over in his hand to reveal his palm. She looked closely at it for a while, as if seeing something more in the lines and creases than just lines and creases.
She nodded, grabbing a jar off the counter and opening it without breaking eye contact with his palm. She took a handful of the contents of the jar, the unknown powder being sprinkled in his hand and then the excess powder being discarded on the floor with little to no thought from the woman.
Carlisle watched the shopkeep worked as she closed his hand over the strange powder, kneading his fingers into his palm firmly. When she opened his hand again, the powder had completely disappeared. She looked back up at Carlisle and said, "In a few moments, your second chance will present itself to you."
Carlisle spoke, "What is the cost?"
She shrugged, "Whatever comes of it. If you succeed, the cost is your pain. It will disappear and you shall be happy again. However if you fail, the cost is your happiness. It will never be seen again."
Carlisle gave a solemn look, understanding with each second the graveness of the situation. This wasn't just for her, this was for him. He couldn't fail, he couldn't.
She gave him a stern nod before speaking in a firm voice, "Go."
~
Carlisle's eyes focused on the newspaper in his hands, sat in his home by himself. His children were out hunting, he had stayed back. He looked around, confused and surprised. What had happened?
All he remembered was the shopkeep, how did he end up here?
His phone rang during his quest to understand what was going on. He looked at it and picked it up. 'Alice'
He breathed in deeply before picking up the phone and bringing it to his ear, "Alice?"
Her voice was frantic, disturbed, as she spoke, "Carlisle? Y/N's in danger. She's going to be taken by Victoria."
Carlisle was suddenly hyperaware of everything. Those were the words Alice said to him when he called her that night. This was her second chance.
"How long do I have?" He questioned quickly, already in his car in the garage as he rushed out of the drive.
There was a beat of silence before she answered, "About five minutes. They're at the treaty line."
"Meet us there," Carlisle had no time to elaborate as he hung up, throwing his phone to the seat next to him and rushing to her. He already knew where she was. He'd lived it before. He would not live through what came after again.
He wasted no time in stopping the car with the screech of the wheels against the ground, getting out in no time and seeing the redhead standing with the love of his life. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her. He hadn't seen her in so long.
"Y/N," he breathed. If he were capable of it, tears would have sprang to his eyes.
Victoria growled, "It's not as good as Bella, but I'll get to her in time." She was inching over to the edge of the line, closer and closer to the small trench where the river divided the territory.
Carlisle spoke in a demanding voice, "Stop this, Victoria! You won't hurt her."
She redhead sneered, "And why is that?"
"I won't let you, not this time," he muttered the last part mostly to himself. He had his hands held out in front of him.
Y/N looked at him only, her eyes flooded with tears, "Carlisle."
He looked at her, a burning in his throat from sorrow and not hunger. He just needed to save her. "It's okay, my love. You'll be okay."
Victoria yanked her back again, closer towards the edge where she threatened to drop her. Carlisle turned back to Victoria, fury in his eyes that seemed so unnatural on him. She taunted, "Might as well say goodbye."
"Not today," he told her, his tone of voice also sounding foreign on him.
"You made the mistake of keeping her human," Victoria laughed wickedly.
"Hey," Y/N said softly, "Carlisle, look at me."
He did, he would always have his eyes on her as much as he possibly could, especially after losing her for so long. This was his second chance, he would not mess this up.
She, on the other hand, wasn't so confident in making it out alive. She swallowed hard, tears staining her face, "Hey, promise me. Promise me you'll move on."
The words hurt him, they cut like a knife as he heard them again. He would not lose her, he couldn't. Not again.
"I don't have to," he told her just as gently.
She looked him in the eyes with a deepness that touched his soul. How he missed her eyes. "Say you love me. Can you do that, please?"
He nodded, he could do that. "I love you, Y/N," he told her. He hadn't told her this last time. He should have.
She smiled, "I love you, Carlisle."
Carlisle's eyes widened as he reached out as things seemed to move in slow motion, even for him. Victoria scoffed and shifted, moving to throw Y/N over the edge and over where the river was. That's how she died the first time. She'd hit her head on one of the sharp rocks by the river.
But that wouldn't happen again.
Carlisle did something this time that he hadn't done before. He relied on his family for help.
Jasper, at the speed of light, lunged forward and caught Y/N in his arms. He held her close, shielding her head by tucking it in his chest as he curled around her. He fell to the dirt ground, cushioning her fall with his body.
The other siblings appeared from the trees, in hot pursuit of Victoria as she darted the other way for her grand getaway. They ran after her, save for Jasper and Carlisle, who were still with Y/N.
Jasper pulled away from Y/N and Carlisle was by her side in no time, looking over her quickly to make sure she was okay. "Are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere? Do you need help?" He drowned her in questions as he looked her over three hundred times.
Y/N nodded, "Carlisle, I'm fine." She smiled widely, throwing herself in his arms. Carlisle froze for a moment, but not long enough for her to register. She had her arms thrown around her in a flash, holding her a little too tight, afraid that if he let go, it would all end up being some dream.
Tears would have stained his face as well if they were able to. He brought her close, inhaling the scent he missed with all of his being, feeling the body he missed holding. When he allowed himself to pull back enough to see her, he was immediately lost in her eyes and in her smile. He never thought he would see her again, and here she was in his arms.
He captured her lips in his, a searing that rocked his world. It was like gravity didn't exist, like she was the only thing keeping him to the ground. He hadn't felt so free, so alive, in years. It felt like longer. Losing her was the most horrible experience he could ever have gone through.
Y/N was left breathless from the kiss. She giggled lightly, still clearly shaken, "I know you almost lost me, but that was something else. Are you okay?"
She laid a hand on his cheek, and he leaned into it, a smile on his face. His face contorted into a look that told her he was wanting to cry. One of his large, cold hands covered hers and held it to his face. "I missed you so much," he whispered, pulling her into another hug he couldn't resist.
"Missed me?" She wondered, confused by his choice of words.
He sighed contently, "I'll explain later. Right now, just...let me hold you."
She wrapped her arms back around him, holding him impossibly close, "Okay. I love you."
If his voice could crack, it would have there as he responded with so much sincerity that the whole world seemed to shake slightly from the truth in his words, "I love you, too. I love you so much, more than anything in this world."
She smiled, kissing his cheek and continuing to hold him.
His children came back, their looks tense and disappointed. Emmett spoke, quite angry from the news, "She got away, jumped over the treaty line."
Carlisle nodded, "I know." But he didn't care. He would later, though. Right now, he would hold the love of his life forever, he would never let her go again.
He got his second chance.
#carlisle cullen#carlisle cullen x reader#carlisle cullen x you#carlisle cullen x fem!reader#carlisle x reader#cullen#cullen x female reader#twilight#twilight fanfiction#twilight series#twilight x you#fanfiction#angst with a fluff ending#enjoy
184 notes
·
View notes
Text
Didn’t Need Burrow (September 14th-September 27th)
Anonymous asked:
Don't Need a Burrow: Oblivio Sentimonster
tbh at this point, we might as well just go, “more akuma-turned-sentimonster.”
Anonymous asked:
Don't Need a Burrow: Alya don't learn anything from her experience as Scarabella
*sees “Simpleman” trailer*
Welp, we have a DNB before the episode is out (two technically because I’ve predicted Marinette with all four kids for like--ever).
Anonymous asked:
Didn't Need Burrow:
Marinette will at some point get akumatised and become even more OP than Chat Blanc and create a whole universe with life and diversity and desires to live in there with no crushing responsibilities, but it will be portrayed as a bad, bad thing and we will have to torment ourselves by seeing Adrien and the other heroes ignoring the fact that their "most beloved friend/romantic interest" is mentally broken and they will keep telling her to go to "sweet baby Adrien" to have a family with.
Naturally, Luka will act either OOC or will be "miraculous"-ly absent, if not disappear from the show altogether at that point so Marinette won't even have a chance to be comforted by an actually good friend.
I call dibs on this ending.
The way they’d spin is probably that Marinette is being selfish wanting to live in her “own little world” and she’s not thinking about everyone else.
This would also probably be another case of the whole “it wasn’t your fault you were akumatized, it was Hawk Moth” thing being through completely out the window because it’s Marinette’s fault, you guys.
Anonymous asked:
DNB: Adrien learns his father is Hawk/Shadowmoth and justifies not telling Ladybug because 'She's keeping secrets from me, too!' This is presented as perfectly valid and understandable reasoning. Bonus if there is no acknowledgement of the fact he is keeping this information from everybody else beyond blaming Ladybug for THAT, too.
I hate that this makes sense because he WOULD be that petty.
Anonymous asked:
DNB: Adrien/Chat Noir will continue down the path of unnecessary roughness and violence. By the time he switches sides and joins the villains for whatever bullshit reason they try to blame on Marinette/Ladybug, his behavior will have degraded so far that he was already acting overtly villainous while he was ostensibly still on the heroes' side. This is never acknowledged beyond some oblique comments about how Ladybug should have noticed how unhappy he was and bent over backwards to fix it.
That’s what she gets for nOt aPpReCiAtInG hIm eNouGh.
Anonymous asked:
DNB: Adrien's spitefulness and/or screwing around as a nominal superhero explicitly causes civilian casualties that are only reversed by Ladybug's cure. Marinette blames herself for their deaths; so does the narrative. Tikki, Alya, and others act as the writers' mouthpieces to berate and blame Mari for her failures, despite her being the only reason that Adrien's victims aren't STILL dead. (Bonus if the same 'logic' is applied to Shadowmoth's victims.)
Well SHE’S the one with Miraculous Cure, so clearly--
Anonymous asked:
DNB: It's eventually revealed that Adrien is directly responsible for the heroes having to continue fighting Hawkmoth/his implied successor well into their adult lives; while Gabriel is ultimately dealt with during the series' run, Adrien isn't willing to give up his 'heroic' lifestyle, and ensures that the Butterfly Brooch ends up in Lila/somebody else's hands. Bonus if their reasoning for blaming Marinette is that a Reveal hadn't happened yet and Adrien 'didn't want to lose her, waaaah...'
And of course they’ll make him look sympathetic because he didn’t want to rat out of his father (if he’d been the one to see the reveal and no one else)!! Can you blame him???
Anonymous asked:
DNB: The concept of getting therapy/psychological help and support is mocked through an akuma lampooning the concept. This stems from the writers getting spiteful/annoyed by so many observations from the fandom about how badly most of the cast needs some form of psychological aid, with the episode supposedly 'proving' that it's not needed/would only hamper the heroes more than help them.
Because a therapist would’ve told Marinette to dropkick Chat into the void.
Anonymous asked:
DNB: If SentiAdrien is a thing, Felix winds up as a body backup drive so the series can have the Angstrese of SentiAdrien being destroyed without permakilling their golden boy. The horrifying implications of Felix's fate are completely glossed over; who cares what happened to his mind/personality/soul so long as Adrien's okay?
oh my god what if Astruc brags that this is why Felix’s model is a copy of Adrien’s and that this is a reference to how Adrien replaced Felix during the making of Miraculous
Anonymous asked:
Don't Need a Burrow: "Simpleman" will be basically "Reverser" 2.0 (very cringe scenes of Ladybug and Chat Noir being rendered useless by Akuma of the Week will be depicted as hilarious)
ugggggggh
Anonymous asked:
DNB: Now that Kagami is on the Adrienette train she'll drag Luka on board with her. Then they'll think of schemes to get them together and meanwhile fall in love with each other and O Fortuna, I need some Pepto now. *GAG*
Single people aren’t allowed to exist unless Astruc can claim they’re aro/ace.
Anonymous asked:
DNB: Post-Reveal, Adrien will reject Marinette while accusing her of only being interested because he's Adrien. The fact that he only wanted her because she was LADYBUG is never addressed, retconned, or denied outright, expecting the viewers to ignore all evidence of his obsessive/controlling behavior. Marinette must then pursue and 'prove herself worthy' of his love in a semi-reversal, with Adrien remaining a manipulative douchenozzle the whole time.
*flashbacks to comics that existed all the way back in Season 1 about Adrien rejecting Marinette because he “””loved both sides of her””” but she didn’t love Chat Noir*
Anonymous asked:
DNB: Marinette will be given little to no heads up that Alya was dropping off her and Ninos siblings.
I imagine we won’t get confirmation on that.
(though also “Rocketear” seems to confirm that Nino is just impulsive about asking Alya on dates sooooo)
Anonymous asked:
For simpleman, we don’t need burrow to know Marinette will regress into season 1 tendencies.
Okay but Season 1 would be better than this.
Anonymous asked:
Don’t need burrow to know the kids will either not be scolded for how they acted or not be changed by any scoldings in their next appearance (bonus if they’re even praised for something along the lines of “saving paris”)
*”The Puppeteer” and “Christmaster” flashbacks*
Anonymous asked:
I just realized another episode comes out in like an hour so I think my DNB is that rolands charm will look very similar to the mayors. Sorry if it’s lame but that’s all I know rn from his late costume
There’s a joke in here somewhere about “all old man charms look the same!!”
50 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chase You / Chase Me (Pt. 3)
Part 3: Remember when everything was different
Catch up here: Series Masterlist
Chapter Summary: Aislinn, Gigi and Alex find friendship in the midst of the competition. One discussion led to another, pushing Alex to take a trip down memory lane, revealing the moment in her past where she and Gabe's paths crossed for the first time.
Book/Pairing: Choices - Laws of Attraction / Gabe Ricci x MC (Alex Keating)
Words: 1.7k+
Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / alcohol consumption, language. Scenes/themes may trigger trauma for some, reader discretion advised.
Disclaimer: Most of the characters as well as some dialogue belong to Pixelberry. I am merely borrowing them.
Sunday, downtown New York
"Wait, can you back up for a moment," Aislinn said across Alex, who was scooping the remains of her melted banana split. Gigi was sipping her ice-cold mimosa, their brunch table full of plates with scrapes of leftovers. The sun was out and so were they, dining al fresco under the shade of a huge white parasol and the gentle breeze cooling them every now and then. It was a perfect day so far.
The trio has agreed to meet up that Sunday to discuss what went down with the Rothswell case as well as to prep for the conference Sadie had invited them to. They were on some kind of a peace pact, all of them sharing the view that pitting women against women in the corporate world is just shitty business.
Alex has enjoyed their company. They exchanged imaginary one-liners that would have made Martin frown his heart out or Beau McGraw chortle his head off. And speaking of McGraw, they all concluded that the best strategic course of action was to let Beau enjoy his moment in the sun. One day, Alex would make sure to remind him that he tried to rain on her parade.
It was a refreshing and enlightening discussion, though she will forever be traumatized with how many swears Gigi can cram in a single sentence. But the sight of a flustered Aislinn while Alex and Gigi engaged in a battle of pick-up lines with their waiter was a strong second contender.
As their drinks flowed, the conversation naturally led to rhetorical questions, now settling at why they became a lawyer. Aislinn shared first, surprisingly, stating that her knack for analysis was just a natural fit to the demands of a career in law. Gigi's answer was simple - she can leverage her eidetic memory to earn herself some serious dough, allowing her to live it up and take impromptu vacations to Bali.
Alex tried to dodge the question. She had never needed to discuss her reason of leaving pre-med behind to attend law school. It wasn't a pleasant memory, and she doubted it will ever be.
The two ladies were quick to see her attempts of evasion. But together, they finally wore her down, Alex left laughing with their shenanigans as they cornered her to tell her story. So she told them that she knew Gabe Ricci. And that it was because of him why she was a lawyer. Alex decided that revealing the truth was worth it, seeing how their jaws just dropped to the floor.
"Girl, you have to explain yourself right now," Gigi demanded, to which Aislinn seconded.
Alex snorted as she went back to skimming what was left of her dessert. "It's a boring sob story, and I don't want to turn this lovely morning into a snooze fest."
"We're not going anywhere, right Gi?" Aislinn turned to Gigi beside her, who nodded whilst sipping another glass of cocktail.
"Fine, but only if you swear this won't leave this table," she said. The two held up their hands invoking a half-smiling Alex, sensing nothing but sincerity. So she drank down her glass of bloody mary and took a deep breath, composing her tale.
"Buckle up, ladies, you're in for a ride."
**
10 years ago, in a town near Boston
Alessandra Keating had never felt more alone than she did that day.
They said she needed to just move forward. But how can she, when every day since the crash, she felt nothing but emptiness? How can she feel alright, when the only life that she knew was suddenly taken away from her?
It wasn't long before she found out that the car accident was caused by someone being reckless, by someone who thought they were above the law. Then, she imploded. No way could she let her parent's deaths be forgotten. No fucking way.
For the past three years, she invested all of herself into this endeavor. Researching, studying, choosing the right counsel, even raising funds. It was what kept her breathing, what gave her purpose. Ultimately, it was what kept her sane.
From filing the lawsuit to attending mediations, to numerous settlement meetings and colliding with every legal roadblock possible - Alex made sure to see them through. Only for everything to be decided that day - the bench trial.
One sweltering summer morning in her hometown's courthouse, Alex sat on the side of the plaintiff, with her long brunette hair tangled in waves. She let her senses wander, taking in the dark wooden panels and pews, her sense of smell invaded by the scent of old mahogany. She sealed her lips into silence, hiding her nerves by straightening the bargain khaki suit that she borrowed.
She barely held it in as her eyes travelled to the table beside them, catching a glimpse of the man that caused her immeasurable pain. With jet black hair and looking as young as her, he sat with an almost mocking expression. He was wearing a crisper set of suit, creating an illusion of trustworthiness that Alex can easily see through.
Maximilian K. Cornell. The green-eyed teenager who swerved his sports car onto the same slippery road Alex and her parents were passing through. The very same boy who got out unharmed, but left Alex's family to die in the snow. Her opponent was a slithery snake who managed to screw the justice system so many times over, just because his parents had the grease to do so.
But after the crash, the town decided they can no longer turn the other cheek. Alex's decision to sue was propelled by the support of the countless friends and families whom her parents have helped in their hour of need. But that still proved not enough.
Her mind whirled back to the proceedings, and to how every strategy, every plan of attack was being thrown out. With every whip from the defense, she started to grow impatient. As another traffic expert from her camp was dismissed, Alex just snapped inside. She leaned to Mr. Leroy, a withering man on the brink of retirement who was her lawyer, asking for them to convene outside.
"I'm sorry Mr. Leroy, but your strategies were just scrutinized and torn into pieces," Alex said in a low voice the moment they stepped out into the hallway.
"Alex, I am doing my best here. We clearly don't have the upper hand, lacking the incriminating evidence that we need," the man replied, exasperated.
"Have we dug up his previous records? I mean, why on earth would he have a sealed history? Doesn't that mean something?" she continued.
She continued to dictate her litany of better-positioned moves, but even Alex knew she wasn't getting through. So she excused herself from the conversation, hoping a cup of iced coffee will somehow mitigate her frustrations.
As soon as she came back, she found Mr. Leroy convening with a much younger man in a dark navy suit. His aura screamed "big city hotshot", albeit the exhausted look in his brown eyes. Not wanting to interrupt, she held off from approaching. However, her curiosity didn't stop her from eavesdropping.
What she heard the charismatic man say was a legal precedent that would have opened the sealed records in question. And with all the mind-boggling legal jargon, that's just about what she understood.
"Gabriel Ricci? I'm looking for an attorney named Gabriel Ricci?" a female voice from a nearby window called out, which made the young man raise his head. She saw him end the conversation abruptly, where a flustered Mr. Leroy hastily thanked him. Alex took that as her queue to approach her lawyer.
"Alex, we might be able to turn things around," she heard Leroy say.
And by some miracle, things did turn around. With her lawyer using the precedent offered by the young attorney earlier, their side gained the needed momentum to tip the scales in their favor. By the end of the trial, the verdict was out - Cornell will never be able to drive another vehicle, along with paying her a hefty amount of damages and fees.
They won.
Alex had to pinch herself before the victory sunk in. When it did, she felt an immense burden lifted from her shoulders.
After a long, long time, Alex can finally breathe.
Broken free from her nightmares, she asked herself what's next? The answer came to her almost immediately. Right there and then, she decided what she wanted to be. Like that man from the courthouse, she will become a lawyer.
Fueled by this new sense of mission, she saw a future for herself. No longer held by the past, she finally was able to move forward.
Indeed, Alex became what she set out to do - a lawyer who took on hopeless, even impossible cases and won them. A lawyer her parents would be proud of.
A damn good lawyer, just like Gabriel Ricci.
**
Present Day, at a New York Penthouse
Gabe sat in his home office clad in nothing but his white bath robe, holding a worn manila folder.
Five years ago, Gabe saw this case as his opportunity to make Robbie proud. The defendant had all the parallels with his brother - a teenager, incarcerated young, where the punishment had presumed to be too harsh. He now knew it was rightfully just.
But at that time, he was blinded by passion and ambition. He wanted to prove to himself and to Sadie what he can do. Taking on this case that was practically unwinnable would give him more power, more control over the pro bono cases he wanted to take. Actually winning this though, that proved to be his fatal mistake.
Your cockiness got the better of you again, Ricci.
His mind went to Alex. That was the direction his every waking moment drifted to nowadays. Whether he liked it or not, he'd answer some other day.
He had to let her know. If he didn't, Alex would eventually find out herself. Once she discovers that he was the one who had set this man free, she would hate him.
Gabe can't bring himself to think of that happening, of losing that chance with her, or of losing Alex's trust.
Hell, I'm going to lose her entirely if she finds out.
These realizations devastated him.
But how can they both escape the looming shadows of the past unscathed? Even he couldn't figure that out.
Sighing, he rubbed his hand on his face, reeling at his lack of options. He then stood up, slamming the open folder on his desk as he turned to face the window, simmering in his own regrets. Papers slipped out to the carpeted floor, including a full-page mugshot of the defendant.
It was Maximilian Cornell.
Author's Notes: With Sadie being shady AF, I feel like we all need some dose of female friendship right? Also, this is my HC why Gabe constantly pulls away from MC, not only because of their working relationship. Did the reveal live up to the cliffhanger? Let me know in the comments! 👇👇👇
Tag list: @adiehardfan @pixelnutrookie @starryjieun @latinagiraffe @sarcastic01lily @spookycolorpeanut @ophrookie @suitfer @thegreentwin @mkatschoicesblog @made-of-roses
@choicesficwriterscreations
Thank you for your continued reading!
Want to be added or removed to the tag list? No problem - just let me know 😊. Reblogs are also much appreciated! 💕
#laws of attraction#choices laws of attraction#choices loa#laws of attraction fanfiction#choices laws of attraction fanfiction#choices fic writers creations#fics of the week#gabe ricci x mc#gabe ricci#aislinn tanaka#gigi sinclair
51 notes
·
View notes
Text
Eternal
couple : optional bias
genre : Romantic, Angst
words: 1746
summary : everyone leaves but you need someone to walk the path with you
The beaming sunlight shined through the window, passing the white curtain and reaching the old dusty carpet. The dim room was lightened up with the flames of a lighter.You brought the lighter close to the cigarette between your lips.
When you lowered the lighter, your gaze fell on the boy next to you, you could only see his bare shoulders going up and down slowly under the blanket.
Memories from a few hours ago came to your mind, your naked bodies against each other, the kisses, and the sound of moans that filled the room. now you were lying on the bed next to him and playing with the lighter in your hand.
Was it the right decision? Kissing him back when he kissed you, was that right?
"I love you"
His voice echoed in your mind like the first alarm in the morning, it didn't let you sleep. You still remembered his face when he said these words, his determined eyes, his lips pressing together, his hands locked on the table in front of you.
"I love you"
It kept repeating over and over like a tape, bringing a vibration to your body.
Your best friend had said these words to you, he had kissed you, he had touched you.
You looked at the boy next to you whom you trusted more than anyone, was he the same guy as before? Now naked under the blanket, he bore no resemblance to your best friend.
His menly hands had touched your body, his body had become one with you, he had made you his own.
So what was this strange feeling you had inside? Cold from head to toe, a slight tremor, heaviness in your soul.
"I love you”
damn it! You heard his voice again. you closed your eyes and puffed the cigarette, the fading smoke rose up in the semi-dark room.
You have never felt this way before, he has always been a close friend to you, nothing more. But when he kissed your lips, you felt that you needed those lips as if they were oxygen, and that was your first mistake.
The second mistake was coming to this king sized bed, in his small suite with tainted walls and paintings covering every corner, from trees and animals to tangled and rough shapes of faces. They all kind of reminded you of your best friend.
Best friend? What exactly were you now? What would you do if he woke up and wanted you to leave his house and never come back? What if he didn't want you in his life anymore?
You could’nt stand it.
You got up from the bed to find a cigarette butt, walking in the cluttered room, you laid your eyes upon the sheets and paintings around you, an empty cup of coffee on his desk caught your eye, you walked over to it, shaking the ashes of the cigarette inside the half empty cup. You stood by the desk, the light shining in through the window and illuminating the table surface, the multitude of black pen drawings and sketches caught your attentio
He was always messy.
You smiled and put your hand on the surface of the paintings, picked them up to clean up the table, being careful not to wake him up. When the table was finally set, your eyes became acquainted with the small design sketch notebook, which you had bought for his birthday three years ago, he still had it?
You put the cigarette between your lips and picked up the sketch notebook to turn the pages.
You paused when you saw the familiar face in it, there was a sketch of your face on the first page, from the hairstyle and your clothes, you knew this was on his birthday, the day you bought him this present. you were looking at your phone aware of him drawing you.
You flipped through the rest of the pages, each of them was a sketch of you, picturing you while you were eating, driving, reading a book, smoking, all this time he had been painting you and you hadn’t noticed? Seeing these sketches was like seeing yourself through the eyes of someone else.
You looked at the last sketch, it was from two days ago. You went to karaoke together, it was only a silhouette, but could you sort out the smile on your face and your hands which held the microphone tightly. A faint smile appeared on your face, recalling the memories of that day.
You looked at the last page, it was blank, but yesterday’s date was written on it, the night he confessed to you, he wanted to draw you again? When ? while you were enjoying your favorite banana milkshake? Or when you were lying next to him completely naked?
"Oops, looks like I'm busted."
you jumped at the sound of his voice, you were so engrossed in the notebook that you didn't notice he had woken up.
You moved the cigarette from your lips and said, "What is this?"
He came forward and clung to you from behind, put his hands on both sides of the edge of the table, locking your body in his body.
"This is my idea of the world."
"These are all sketches from me"
"Exactly .. my world is you" you frowned confusedly and put the notebook on the table, then dropped the half-burnt cigarette in the coffee cup so that it would go out on its own.
You turned to him with a serious look on your face.
"What’s wrong?" he asked as his eyebrows furrowed
"What's gonna happen now? What are we going to do?"
He took a deep breath before answering, "It's up to you. I told you my feelings and I was honest with you. Now it's your turn to be honest with me."
"I was not prepared for this "
"Last night you seemed pretty prepared," he said. You pushed him away and threw your hands in frustration.
“I..I’m confused”
"You mean you don't want us to be together?"
"It's not that easy .. You're the only boy I trust if -"
"If What?" He took a step forward
"What if you leave me? Then who else do I have?"
"Why should I leave you?" He said softly and stepped closer.
"Because this is what people do .. they say they will be by your side until the end, but then they leave you" You looked away and stared at one of the paintings.
"I promise to try to stay with you forever, how is that?" You stared into his brown eyes, you knew he was right, but you couldn’t believe him.
People always leave, this life has proved it to you, your friends, your ex lovers, your mother ... they all leave one day and you are left alone.
You sighed and stepped back to sit on the bed, covering your face with both hands.
"I don’t want to lose you"
He knelt beside you, took your hands and brought them down.
"You are not going to lose me"
"You want me to be your girlfriend"
"Well we can be best friends who love each other"
You bit your lip and remained silent for a few moments.
"Why did you draw me?"
"Because I wanted to look at you when you're not around"
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I wanted to draw the real you, the person you are when no one’s looking, you should fall in love with people in these moments, when they think no one's looking at them."
"Did you fall in love with me in those moments?" you asked, he nodded slowly.
You grabbed his hands, which were still around your wrists and squeezed them.
"Did you want to draw me yesterday too?"
"Yeah, I was waiting for you to fall asleep... I had never seen you like this before .. but man you wouldn’t sleep." You both laughed.
"Well .. do you still want to draw me?" You shrugged.
"draw you?" He raised his eyebrows
"Yeah, it’s the last page of the notebook? Don't you want me to pay attention to the painter in at least one of them?"
He smiled and nodded, stood up and went to the desk to pick up his notebook, while he was looking for his pencil and eraser. You quickly jumped to the other side of the bed and put on his T-shirt. He looked at you in surprise.
"If you are going to stare at me, I do not want to be naked." You just shrugged. He laughed and nodded.
He sat down on a desk chair and spread the notebook to begin with.
"What should I do?"
"I want to draw your face, so just smile" You nodded, took a deep breath and gave him the most beautiful smile you had. He started immediately, drawing lines on the blank page, raising his head from time to time to look at you. Each time your eyes met, your heart beat faster.
You looked at his calm face, his hand moving up and down quickly on the paper, his perfect body with the sun shining on his back, he was the greatest man you had ever seen. you thought about what had happened last night, you enjoyed it too, you wanted this too, now that you were sitting in front of him, there was not the slightest bit of regret in you.
People always leave, but only those who accompany you along the way matter, and he, as a close friend, has walked and accompanied you for a long time. If you were to trust someone, he was sitting right in front of you.
Finally he finished his work, straightened up and turned the notebook. Your eyes shined with excitement, seeing your face looking at you with a smile on the paper.
"this is great" you said excitedly. He laughed and stared at the painting "yes ..."
You had made your decision, you had to make a choice, you got up, went to him, took the notebook in your hand and put it on the desk.
Your arms wrapped around his neck and you sat in his lap, he looked at you in surprise, you pressed your foreheads together
"I love you too,"you said.
His voice was still repeating in your head, but this time it was a pleasant lullaby telling you that the impossible is possible and that some people will stay with you forever.
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
PART 4: KUN, THE HUSBAND
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/570b2fa366867f20cca3ee4d96a6a34d/11edf33fbc22e718-2e/s540x810/2b6d767a2eb152de5b1e9fca8be5d9362ae4c067.jpg)
➔Pairing: Kun x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: Brief mention of YangYang ➔Genre: Smut (+ angst, + fluff, + plot) ➔Warnings: oral (M), sexual scene where Kun is a little more drunk than the reader, angst, adultery ➔Word count: 5,994
➔Summary: You don’t know what you do. You don’t even know who you are. Some would call you a whore. Some would refer to you as a sex worker. All of your clients would say you’re damn good at your job.
MASTERLIST
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/98090ab1cc0e2182273b0817dd404af2/11edf33fbc22e718-81/s500x750/c630584c1dcb24891e6ded3ae8d88430138390de.jpg)
You had ransacked the place. Lucas’ clothes were splayed all over the floor. One of his drawers was on his bed, the other sticking half out of its home. You had looked in his wardrobe, pushing hangers all the way to the end of the metal pole. You were in this sock drawer, you had looked underneath his bed and, eventually, though against your better judgement, you had looked underneath his mattress.
The ring was nowhere to be found. Did you hallucinate the ring? Because it was your worst fear, did you somehow bring it to life and mistake what you had seen? Was it really a key to his apartment the entire time?
You sat on the floor and started folding his clothes. The moment of weakness left you feeling out of control of your own life. Your brain started convincing you that you had every right to be confused. There had been a ring. It was a simple ring, but it should have been yours.
You continued folding his clothes and putting his room back together, the puzzle pieces fitting rightfully in their place. You did not chalk it up to the stress of having to move your life into his, though you were certain that was part of it.
When you were done, you sat on his bed and closed your eyes as the world spun around you. Lucas came home shortly after, and without saying hello, he climbed into bed and laid his body across yours.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/98090ab1cc0e2182273b0817dd404af2/11edf33fbc22e718-81/s500x750/c630584c1dcb24891e6ded3ae8d88430138390de.jpg)
You liked to feel pretty for him, not just look pretty. If you felt it inside, it didn’t matter what you wore, or what you smelled like. He hardly complimented you on the way you looked when you weren’t underneath him, but there was something satisfying about doing it for yourself, too. So, you curled your hair, put on a full face of makeup, and slipped into something that would help you look more like a teaching assistant. College sweatshirt? Check. Hair scrunchie around your wrist? Check. Jeans so tight they cut off your circulation but made your ass look fat? Double check.
The hair and makeup was overkill. He would tell you it was too much, that his wife would catch on. What teaching assistant looks sexy at night? He had asked. But you liked going with the narrative of the innocent teaching assistant with a forbidden crush on the teacher. Everyone thought it was cute. Everyone thought it was harmless. You liked his wife underestimating you.
You stood in front of his house in the darkness, your eyes peering into every window with a yellow glow. You could see him in one of those windows, standing at the kitchen sink washing a stain from his shirt. He didn’t see you, but he never really did.
Kun. Married father of two toddlers roughly a year and a half a part. He taught at the university, which, at his young age, was an accomplishment. He could fly a plane. He could drive stick. He knew all the right things to bring on a trip, knew how to ask for what he wanted, even with a language barrier. He was the handsome teacher every student looked up to, the one every faculty member wanted to fuck. Men were jealous of him, of his intelligence, and of how easy it was for him to be respected and imitated. He was a king, and kings could do no wrong.
Once you met him, you knew that looks, especially the good, wholesome ones, were deceiving. Kun had been cheating on his wife since before she got pregnant, but he had never paid for sex until he met you. He considered it noble and somehow better of him. But, all the same, he would kiss her with the same mouth he used to eat your pussy with. Then, his nobleness would pretend to be the best husband and father in the kingdom.
Kun wasn’t the only earner of his house. His beautiful queen of a wife was worth a lot of money, the kind of money passed down through generations of family. Their beautiful, perfect home was mostly because of her. Of course, he tended to the garden and kept them all safe, but she was the boss of the house. Without her, he tried to convince you he wouldn’t be just nothing.
Watching him from the window made your heart ache. He didn’t have to convince you that he was someone, because he had always been someone to you. The money didn’t matter. You had stopped taking his money after the first few times you fucked, anyway.
You took a step forward and watched the lawn light up to reveal a stone path. Kun’s eyes were on you from the window, an intruder walking towards his house. You could see him out of the corner of your eye, his face a picture of warmth and temptation. You walked right up to his front door, with its sign that read: The Qians Live Here, and you rang the doorbell. The music was heavenly, really adding to the feeling that you had stepped into another place and time.
“Hey,” a voice said, “It’s so nice to see you. “
You were face-to-face with Kun’s wife of five years. She was taller than you, statuesque like a runway model. She was pretty, with sharp features and softer, kinder eyes than you’d ever possess. She didn’t look like someone who stayed home with her kids all day long, but then again, you didn’t exactly look like anything less than a girl coming to see her work colleague.
“I’m only stopping in for a little bit.” you said, lifting your books high enough for her to see. “I’m sorry to drag him away from his family at this hour.”
Kun’s wife smiled. “Don’t worry about it. My husband works hard. It’s why I love him.”
She let you inside their home. Right away, you were fighting away the guilt that always rose up your throat like stomach bile. You were the intruder. If this were olden times, there would be worse punishments for you than feeling guilt for fucking someone else’s husband.
If the outside of their home looked too perfect, the inside told a different story. Their home was so cozy and lived in. There were kids toys everywhere, old glasses of iced tea on the table, and an unfolded laundry sitting in a basket by the couch. Through every room downstairs that she brought you through, you could feel how much family meant to her. The feelings were harder to stomach when you smelled the aroma of freshly baked cookies, each chocolate chip baked with love.
“He’s just in the kitchen,” she said, “My clumsy husband decided to shake the ketchup bottle without checking to see if it was closed.”
She said those words like she was admitting something romantic that Kun had done. You chuckled to show her that you were listening, but your eyes were still breathing in the state of the house. You hadn’t been there often, but each time felt more dangerous than the last. It was always a risk playing where you ate, but what Kun wanted, Kun got.
You both stopped in the kitchen. Kun turned around. When he saw you, his eyes lit up. He didn’t try to hide it, just looked at his wife and started telling her about how the stain needed to be cleaned. It was boring talk, so you tuned him out and tried to make your breathing even. In. Out. In. Out.
“Well, take off your shirt and I’ll clean it right now.” she said.
Kun looked like his wife had asked him to get naked in front of his mother-in-law.” That’s not really appropriate.”
His wife batted her hand in front of her face. “I’m sure she’s seen a shirtless man before. Don’t be so shy. Here, take it off and hand it to me.”
You didn’t know if you should avert your eyes or not. Kun taking off his shirt wasn’t necessarily sexual, but seeing him so stripped made you want to launch your body across the kitchen and kiss him until you both fell to the ground. His body was tight and toned. He wasn’t that confident about it, but you thought he should have been. He unbuttoned the shirt and handed it to his wife without looking her in the eyes. She took it and disappeared after serving him a “Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” look.
You and Kun stood facing each other for a beat too long. Kun moved his arm to cover part of his stomach. He was going to say something but a little boy walked into the kitchen, calling for his father. Kun walked to the kid and scooped him right up into his arms. Right after, Kun’s other son came running in and told his father that he was “hungy”.
“Dinner is almost done.” Kun said, trying to pick up his other son with the other hand.
You stepped in to help, hoisting Kun’s oldest son into your arms. His son played with your hair and smiled a gummy smile. You had met his kids before, and they were slowly warming up to you. You were terrified of the future where they would try and call you auntie, not really knowing how or why you fit into their lives.
“You’re here!” his eldest son clapped. “Are you eating, too?”
“Maybe I’ll stick around.” you said.
You tried to imagine what the picture of you and a shirtless Kun holding his children would have looked like from the street outside. To people who didn’t know the Qian’s, you probably looked like the mother of his children. You felt excitement growling in the pit of your belly at the image, or maybe it was just hunger. Either way, you really liked the thought of having kids with Kun, even though the thought of motherhood scared the shit out of you.
“Are you staying for dinner?” Kun asked.
Usually, you and Kun would meet in his car around the corner and fuck in the backseat. Only once you saw him in public, so you brought him back to your faux apartment and fucked him on a real bed. Your relationship consisted of sneaking away from his life in this house, never flaunting it so openly in public. But something had changed within Kun lately. He liked toeing the line of danger, liked seeing you in his home with his wife. You thought that maybe he was just getting bored with the whole setup, which brought up a whole lot of questions about which girl he was bored with: you, or his wife.
“What if we had a threesome?” Kun had asked the last time you had shown up, a bag full of fake school supplies in your arms. “My wife would like it. She likes you. She told me the other day she thinks you’re hot.”
“I’m sure she wouldn’t like me fucking her husband, though.” you had said. And I’m not sure I would like that either, is what you didn’t say.
Truthfully, Kun’s wife scared you. She wasn’t an idiot like he sometimes could be. Some part of her had to have known what was going on between you and her husband. Every time you and Kun touched, it was electric. Besides, in their part of town, many bored husbands had affairs. It was her inability to say something that terrified you most. Kun’s insistence that his wife would love to fuck you too felt a little off.
“Should I stay for dinner?” you asked him. “I’m sure my boyfriend would like it if I ate dinner with him.”
Kun winced. He hated Lucas, and you were petty enough to bring him up as a weapon in your discussions. You liked seeing Kun get jealous of your boyfriend. He had no idea what Lucas’ looked like, how your relationship was with him, or if you truly loved him, but it didn’t stop him from begging you to leave him. If anyone got you to leave Lucas, it would have been Kun. You would have definitely left Lucas without thinking about it if Kun was serious about leaving his wife.
“Stay. I want you to stay. ” Kun said. He set his youngest son down in a high chair and buckled him in. “And then after dinner, we can get to work.”
“You know,” his wife said, sailing back into the room. “I think that stain just might come out. You’re in luck.”
Kun took his other child from you, his fingers brushing lightly against your stomach. He set him in his high chair and pinched his cheek after buckling him in. Kun’s wife moved around the room, looking here and there, as if she had forgotten something. She disappeared into the kitchen, banging pots and pans around.
“I can’t stay long.” you said, loud enough so she could hear, too. “I’ve been a little busy, lately. I have to.....get home and do things. Lucas, he misses me when I’m gone.”
The look on Kun’s face made your insides turn to mush. It wasn’t often he would beg you for something, but when he did, it never failed to make you forget who you were, what you were doing, and what you felt whenever he looked at you. You knew it was his way of just getting what he wanted, which, he knew he could get. You were a sucker to give in. Every. Damn. Time.
“Please.” Kun mouthed.
If you could convince yourself that it wasn’t just for the sex, you would greedily sit down at his table and eat with him. If you could believe in the fairytale with ignorance, it would be easier.
Suddenly, you remembered the dream you always had about him at that very table, sitting right by his side like his life really belonged to you. Kun was in most of your dreams, and in your reality, too.
“Nonsense,” Kun’s wife said, flittering out of the kitchen with a large dish of food in her hand and a t-shirt hanging over her shoulder. She put the food down and threw the shirt at Kun to put on. “ Your life can wait. You’re our guest. Stay and eat. I’m sure Lucas will understand why we have to keep you hostage.”
“Yeah,” Kun chimed in, rolling the t-shirt down his body. “Me and the wife don’t get out much, and when we want to, our friends are too busy with their own families to enjoy our company. It’s nice that you’re here in the moment. It’s hard to find friends these days.”
Friend. So, you were not the wife, nor the potential wife. You had somehow found yourself in the friend zone without believing such a zone existed. Not only were you not getting paid for sleeping with him, but there were no other benefits other than heartbreak and the occasional gut belly laugh Kun gave you when he said something ridiculously believable. We could be together, just wait a little longer. We’re meant to be, don’t you feel it?
You didn’t know when you had fallen so deeply in love with him, or how it really worked next to your other feelings. You felt different for Kun as you did for Lucas, and it confused you. Lucas was love, especially in the beginning. He was certainty and marriage, stressless sex and camaraderie. You knew where Lucas fit into your life, square pegs and round holes and all. You knew what boxes he checked. You knew that if you sat down at the dinner table with Lucas, you would never hesitate to ask him to pass you the salt, too scared to feel a flush against your cheeks if his fingers brushed against yours. Kun was anti-everything you signed up for. You didn’t get to control when you saw him, who he was with, or how close you got to be to him without arousing suspicion. He kept you hidden in the backseat, too afraid to even put the overhead light on so that you could find your bra. He was forbidden fruit, and no matter how hard you tried to make sense of your future, you never saw him in it.
The one thing you were sure of, was that Kun made you act recklessly. As you lowered yourself into his chair in his family's home, you dared to look him in the eyes. You get everything you want, don’t you? you asked him with your fiery gaze. You wanted him to know that he was the one who kept you up at night. If you had the chance, you would admit that if the right opportunity came along, you would swap places with his wife in a heartbeat.
Kun sat down in his space, looking very much like your dream of him: perfectly kissable and delightfully fuckable. He looked satisfied with the outcome of the choice he never really gave you. There were times when you felt a little bit like he was taking you for a ride, and that when he was done having his fun, he'd get off and leave you there, hoping for the prospect of love. Kun knew exactly what he was doing to you.
“Good girl.” Kun’s wife said.
You and Kun sat in silence, the kids making so much noise that you couldn’t think straight. His wife set the table full of food and sat down in a huff. You waited for her to say something about no one helping out, but she was far too kind for that. She closed her eyes gently, so thankful for the food you were about to consume. When she opened them, her eyes found yours. You could have been mistaken, but the look she gave you felt like one that could see right through you.
“Dig in.” she said, smiling.
Before you could fill your own plate, Kun was already doing it. Despite not spending a lot of time with him, he knew what foods you liked. You would spend hours in the car post-coital, just reminiscing about life, discussing your likes and dislikes, and genuinely enjoying eachothers company. You admired Kun’s intelligence and you think he liked that almost as much as when people at the university did it. He would puff out his bare chest in the backseat and take pride in whatever wise words he fed you. Reacting like the lovesick school girl was never your intention, but Kun brought it out of you in a way that made you feel unlike yourself. Even knowing that he truly paid attention to what you said made your heart pound uncontrollably. It was like you were under a spell.
“She’s a big girl Kun,” his wife said. “I’m sure she can do that herself. You’re such a good dad, baby, but not everyone needs you to coddle them.”
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m used to doing it for the kids. Forgive me. Can I get you some wine to drink?”
It was against your better judgement, but you agreed. Kun got up from his seat, the visual of him attending to you so carefully not lost on his wife. You looked for signs of jealousy or anger, but she had a sickly sweet smile stuck to her face. Somehow, you thought it’d be better if she launched herself across the table and choked you out. It would be kinder than what you deserved.
“He’s a good man.” she said. “Always helping out.”
You nodded. “Thank you for the food.”
“Of course,” she said. She looked towards the kitchen to make sure Kun wasn’t going to walk through the door, and then she leaned in to you. “I know how hard it is for you.”
You lowered your fork. “Hard? What’s hard?”
“Here is the wine!” Kun said, holding a bottle and two wine glasses. He set them on the table and started pouring the deep red liquid. “It’s a good year, too.”
You looked at his wife but she had leaned back and acted like neither of you had spoken to each other. Kun handed you a glass and kept one for himself, taking a small sip of his before setting it back onto the table. You must have looked at his wife quizzically because she patted her stomach and told you she wouldn’t be drinking tonight.
“We haven’t told anyone yet,” she began, looking at Kun lovingly. “But we’re expecting another baby! So, no wine for me.”
You looked down at her small belly. She didn’t look pregnant to you. You almost thought it was a joke until you looked at Kun for confirmation. He could hardly look into your eyes and was staring at your forehead like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
“Congratulations. “ you said, swallowing the lump in your throat. You took a long pull of the wine, hoping that it would make the lump go down faster.
“Thank you,” she said. “We’re hoping for a girl. I feel a little outnumbered here.”
She kept talking, but you tuned her voice out. You felt sick to your stomach. The wine didn’t help. You drank your glass and poured another, drawing concerned looks from Kun. The fuzziness after only a few sips was felt. You pushed the food around on your plate and thought about how to get the fuck out of there. You wiped sweat from your brow, no doubt messing up your makeup. You wanted to cry, but there would be no way to explain the tears. Luckily for you, Kun spoke up and his wife fell quiet.
“Shit.” he said, throwing his napkin down on the table.
“Is everything okay, baby?” his wife asked.
Kun looked at you. “I forgot about the deadline. Shit, honey,” he said turning back to his wife. “May we excuse ourselves for a few minutes so we can go over the plan? Dinner is so lovely and I’d hate to miss it. I’m an idiot, truly.”
With her hand on her pregnant belly, his wife nodded her head. “Sure. Is there anything I can help with?”
You poured a little more wine into your glass. Kun took the bottle from you and carefully set it back down on the table. You drank the wine so fast. You didn’t care that all sets of eyes were looking at you like you were unmanageable.
You had to hand it to her. She was good at acting. You thought there was no way she didn’t find Kun’s interruption believable. Yet, she smiled gracefully and excused her husband like he was the noble king he saw himself as, ready to change the world of academia with some plan that didn’t exist.
“I don’t think so. It will only take a few minutes,” he said, standing up.
God damn him, you thought. Damn his handsome face with their dimples and those beautiful eyes.
You stood too fast and felt a little dizzy. His wife was staring at you, her face no longer graceful. One of Kun’s kids held your finger before Kun grabbed your elbow and whisked you away, but you weren’t sure which one.
“Are you okay?” he asked, reaching the top of the stairs. “You drank a lot in less than five minutes. The last time I saw someone drinking like that was at a university party and I had to call an ambulance.”
“I’m fine.” you said, feeling irritated.
He took your hand and helped you up the last stair. You had been upstairs a few times, the familiar new baby smell hitting your nostrils before you could scrunch your nose in disgust. Kun held your hand limply, his only purpose to lead you in the direction that was safe from prying eyes.
“What are we really doing?” you whispered, desperately wanting to add a curse or two in there.
The wine was really fucking you up. You were never one to hold your alcohol that well. One glass was enough to help you along, but two glasses had you throwing yourself to the wolves. You slid your arm up Kun’s, feeling the light hairs on his skin. He turned around to kiss you, careful not to make too much sound.
“What we always do.” he said.
“This isn’t your car.” you said.
Kun turned on the bathroom light. You blinked and closed your eyes because the light hurt. Kun kissed you, pressing your body aggressively up against a wicker shelf. You were so horny that you would have had him bent you over the sink without any real foreplay, but Kun had other ideas.
“We can’t do anything too loud.” he said.
“She already knows what we do anyway.” you said, looking down at your feet.
Kun held your chin and made you look him in the eyes. “No, she doesn’t.”
He kissed you more softly before holding the top of your head and pushing you down to your knees. Kun took out his cock and held it in front of you. You looked up at him and laughed before taking him in your mouth. He swayed a little, which made you realize that you weren’t the only person who was drunk. Kun was just better at covering things up in his own house than you were.
“I think this plan might work after all.” Kun said.
Sucking Kun’s cock was always interesting. Because you were confined to certain places, he had to force himself to keep quiet. He’d bite on his knuckles to stifle the moans. When he was really far gone, he’d sing a song underneath his breath, keeping his voice even so that his moaning level didn’t ride up.
You took him out of your mouth. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” he said.
Kun took the back of your head and held it. He fucked your face slowly, pushing his hips forward and pulling them back again. He gathered your hair in his fist and kept thrusting. You kept your mouth still, your teeth tucked behind your lips. A few times he made you gag, and each time, he would go softer in a way that made you feel like he cared about you.
When he came, he kept his cock stilled in your mouth. He looked at you lovingly, kind of how you always wish he looked at you when you weren’t having sex. You swallowed his load and let him help you to your feet. Holding either side of your shoulders, he leaned forward and kissed your forehead.
“You’re having a baby.” you said.
Kun was silent. He let you go and pulled up his pants. There was always a brief moment after sex where Kun felt ashamed that he had done anything with you. When he was paying you for sex, the shame emanating from him made you feel icky. When you told him to stop paying you, the shame lessened a little, but he still had the balls to stare you in the face like you were the only one to blame.
“I thought you said you were going to leave her.” you said, trying to get him to react. “Or am I just imagining things again?”
You were only bringing it up because you were drunk. You knew it, and so did Kun. In fact, it was a thought you had never brought up, just to save yourself from the embarrassment. You didn’t want him to know that you were hoping you and him would have a future, that you were clinging to the hope that one day you would leave Lucas and he’d leave his wife, and you’d finally get to live that dream life.
Kun tried kissing your forehead again but you pushed him back. Feeling rejected, he said, “Sometimes people have babies to save marriages.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel okay?”
“Please don’t do this now,” he said. “You’ve been drinking. I’ve been drinking. I thought-”
“-you thought? “ you said. “You thought what? That you would invite me here and we’d fuck in your bed while she put the kids to sleep like last time? That we would roll around in your sheets like the fucking teaching assistant and the adulterer? “
“Keep your voice down, please.” Kun said, stepping closer to you.
You did as you were told and kept quiet. You shook your head, the tears stinging your eyes. Everything felt like it was crashing down and you didn’t know how to stop it. The wine made you feel like you had to address everything at once, and if you didn’t, Kun wouldn’t ever understand how you felt. You needed to let him know that you couldn’t fuck him if his wife was pregnant.
“I can’t do this anymore.” you said, turning towards the bathroom door. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, like all your mistakes were finally grasping your throat, ready to squeeze the light from your lungs.
Kun grabbed your arm but you pulled away. “Like, ever?”
You barrelled out of his bathroom and ran down the steps. Kun followed behind, his footsteps softening only when he saw his wife. You made it to the front door of his house. All you cared about was getting outside and breathing in the fresh air. His wife stepped in front of you before you could reach for the handle.
She raised her hand. You thought she would slap you across your face, so you winced. Instead, she wiped the corner of your mouth with her thumb. “You have a little bit of my husband left on your lip.”
She moved out of the way, you reached for the handle, and swung the door open. The sight of Kun’s plush green glass was the last thing you saw before you blacked out.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/98090ab1cc0e2182273b0817dd404af2/11edf33fbc22e718-81/s500x750/c630584c1dcb24891e6ded3ae8d88430138390de.jpg)
No one was at the table in your dream. You could smell the toast, see little wisps of smoke coming from the slots in the toaster. You heard the click of your heels as you walked around the linoleum floor, looking for your husband in his crisp tie. On the table, the newspaper laid unread.
You dreamed different scenarios where you were alone. You were running from something in one, the edge of a black cliff and your feet on the edge, crumbling rocks below. In others, you were simply yelling into a dark void.
When you woke, you were sweaty and tired, your eyes barely able to stay open. You should have never taken a single sip of wine. You could still feel it in your system as strong as ever, securing you to the car seat you were in, and swirling the traffic light colors in your line of vision.
“You’re awake.” Kun said.
“You shouldn’t be driving.” you whispered.
“I’m not drunk.” he said.
There were no sounds, not even traffic melee. Kun’s hands were on the steering wheel in the most dad position ever. You could see that his sleeves were rolled up and he was wearing an expensive watch. Time’s up. You didn’t want to look at his face, so you looked out of the window. You focused on breathing evenly. In. Out. In. Out.
“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know how,” he said. “The baby wasn’t planned. She told me and I wanted to cry. This isn’t how I imagined my life.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” you said. “It’s still your life. You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
Kun’s hand was on your knee. You felt physically ill, but you placed your hand on top of his, anyway. You didn’t want to feel alone, driftless and pointless. You held his hand until he parked his car out front of your apartment.
“Can we go upstairs and talk?” he asked.
“And fuck?”
You looked at him. He looked down at his lap, a million apologies stopping at his lips. He looked at you and inhaled, the exhale of air whistling through his nose. “We can do whatever you want, but I’d like to talk first.”
You moved his hand from your lap and got out of the car. You didn’t want to be there in front of your apartment. Lucas had dropped off empty cardboard boxes the other day, so the floors were littered with reminders that you would no longer own that life. There was still the real apartment you had shown Hendery, but that place was feeling further and further away by the day.
Kun stayed in the car, but his eyes were on you as you made your way to his window. You were walking with fear that you’d fall, which should have been what you did the moment you had met him.
“I’d still like to see you.” he said.
You laughed. “And how would that work? I’d come over as your wife is nursing your third child, you meet me outside and fuck me in the back of your car, one leg in your sons car seat, and the other stepping on old, unwashed baby bottles. That’s not the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard, Kun.”
Kun got out of the car. You backed up into the middle of the sidewalk. He went to kiss you, but you backed up even further.
“We work well together, you and I.” he said. “Don’t you feel that?”
“We don’t work at all,” you said. “I think I’m seeing that more clearly now. Sad that it had to take me getting piss drunk, but...”
You wanted to yell at him, to make sure he knows what kind of promises he had broken. You weren’t even sure he remembered what he had told you late at night in the back of his car. You didn’t want him to think for one second that he ever had the upper hand. You were done making a fool of yourself for the night. Let someone else be the jester.
“Your wife knows.” you said, throwing your hands up in the air.
“I don’t think she cares.” he said.
“I care.”
Kun shifted his weight to his other foot. “How much?”
“Excuse me?” you said. You suddenly remembered Hendery and the money he had given you the last time you saw him. You closed your eyes and prayed that Kun wasn’t saying what you thought he was.
“How much money? I’ll pay you.”
It might as well have been the slap in the face his wife failed to deliver. Deep down, there was always a part of you that knew you could never hold him for very long. He was like smoke, curling away from your fingers the moment you tried. You knew Kun was never as in love with you as you were with him, but you liked to think he cared about you enough to consider that you were a real person with real emotions.
“It’s not about the money.” you said.
“Well, then, what is it about? Help me understand.” he said, throwing up his hands like you did a few seconds ago.
The truth was delicious when you were drunk. You tasted it on your tongue, all the words you’d had to bite back. You wanted to spit it back into his face. You stood on the pavement thinking of all the things you could do when your cell phone rang.
You answered it, turning away from Kun so you could concentrate. “Hello?”
Hearing his voice was like an antidote to all of the poison filling your lungs. Kun watched your face for any signs that it was Lucas, but he knew you’d never smile so brightly for him. You held the phone closely to your ear and listened to the voice on the other end.
“I’d like to see you.” you said. “YangYang, can you pick me up now?”
#nct#wayv#nct smut#wayv smut#lucas smut#hendery smut#winwin smut#kun smut#ten smut#xiaojun smut#yangyang smut#lucas#hendery#winwin#kun#ten#xiaojun#yangyang#nct fanfiction#nct ten#nct lucas#nct hendery#nct winwin#nct kun#nct xiaojun#nct yangyang#wayv fanfiction
233 notes
·
View notes
Text
[something more]
ao3.
Dean never wants to go to hunter gatherings.
First, because they don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to meeting other hunters, and second, because whenever they go there's always people looking at them like they’re freaks. He knows they tell all sorts of stories about them and some are hard, ugly truths that Dean would rather stop thinking about for the rest of his life.
But he's got a text from Carol while he was about to get in the car after wrapping up a case, and Sam asked who it was, so it had become a Thing to discuss.
And Dean’s main argument was “Why would we go?”, but Sam’s was “Why not?”, which was objectively stronger. And it got worse because from the backseat Jack kept interjecting with, “Go where?” and, “Who are these people?” until Sam paid attention to him and explained that hunters meet up sometimes to “get a drink, exchange stories”, and that had made him light up like a Christmas tree because Jack loved stories and the idea of expanding his pool of knowledge on hunting and creatures appealed to him greatly.
So the fact that Dean had tried to point out that, “This is stupid. We are hunters, not a book club,” had sorted no effect whatsoever. No, instead, Jack had said, “That sounds nice. We should go,” and when Dean had met Cas’ eyes in the rear view mirror, all he had offered was a shrug.
Typical.
It’s not that Dean wants to be a hermit or something, but he always feels like he needs to be wary of who’s gonna be at these sorts of things because some may treat them like Hollywood stars, but some may want to shoot them on sight. Anyone could come up to them and call them out for starting the end of the world, letting monsters out of Hell and Purgatory, cosmic beings out of their cages, getting their family killed, destroying their lives.
And there’s also this: are they really ready for Jack’s debut in society? Sam thinks they are. He thinks it’s a great opportunity to show that the community doesn’t have anything to worry about. He’s with them now and he’s not going anywhere so they should get used to that. Cas says he’ll be there to intervene in case things go south and Dean’s mind flashes with Carol’s house burning to the ground after Cas’ has gone all mama swan on the hunters. He meets Sam’s eyes briefly and it looks like he had the exact same images playing in front of his eyes, “I’m sure it won’t be necessary," he adds quickly.
So Sam wanted to go and Jack wanted to go and Cas didn’t seem to be able to say no to the kid even if he tried, so Dean had to bite his cheek and wake up early the next morning to drive across the state.
At least it’s a nice day, at least it stopped raining and the sun is breaking in from the clouds; the chilly air that comes in from the window that Cas is in the habit of keeping rolled all the way down brings in the pleasant smell of wet leaves.
Dean feels his knees bumping on the back of his seat from time to time and looks at him in the rear view mirror and Cas sometimes catches his eyes and sometimes he doesn’t.
At least they are spending time together. It’s rare for Cas to stay around after a hunt these days. He doesn’t need the down time they require, or so he says. He gets bored in the bunker, starts climbing the walls the second the door closes behind them. He gets restless, and then there’s Heaven and always bigger things to deal with, and Dean imagines that that beats staying behind to play foosball with him and Jack.
Going on hunts with Cas is always fun, but it’s also a run against time and there’s death and guns and fear involved, even when it’s an easy-peasy salt-and-burn. And it’s the four of them crammed in a motel room, so they don’t get much time to be alone. And Dean likes when they are all together, but likes it more when Sam and Jack disappear in the maze of the bunker and he gets to have his best friend all for himself.
That is why Dean had been pleased when Cas had expressed his intention of staying with them for a couple more days. In that moment Dean had been busy keeping his lunch in his stomach - he’d just found the shredded skin of a shapeshifter in a freaking kitchen drawer - but he’d heard him loud and clear all the same.
They were moving about in the victim’s house looking for clues and talking about other stuff, when Cas had said something along the lines of, “I could work on it once we go back to the bunker,” and Dean had asked, half distracted, “So you’re going back with us?” and Cas had his back turned and Dean had opened the drawer in that moment, but he'd heard him when he’d said:
“I guess.”
It was barely a whisper but it meant yes, that’s all that mattered. And it also meant, from Dean’s perspective, a really nice weekend, that included, not in order of importance: his hot dog pants, driving around with the music up, Dean’s cave and Cas.
So, yeah, if Dean was completely honest with himself – something that he generally tried to avoid – it’s not like he wanted to waste a whole day of that to go spend it with a bunch of strangers.
But it doesn’t matter now, because they’ve piled up in the Impala and driven to Carol’s.
Dean likes her. She spent half her life working at a bank, but after crossing path with a djinn she hanged her suit, moved out of the city and created a safe place for hunters, soon becoming a beacon in the community in Kansas. Her door is always open, as she said that one time they met her on a case. Dean likes her for no-nonsense ways, her honest looks and, not less importantly, her amazing sandwiches.
Carol fusses over him and Sam in the hall, scolds them for taking so long to visit when they live in the same state, then Sam makes the introductions, and it’s only his shifting a little from side to side that betrays his nervousness.
Her eyes focus on Cas and her expression speaks of wonder and surprise.
“The angel Castiel,” she calls him and he nods, “a long way from Heaven.”
“The weather here is nicer,” he says, and Dean snorts softly next to him.
Jack wins her over immediately with his wide smile and polite hand shake, “I look forward to exchanging stories,” he says and she huffs a laugh and says:
“Sure, Jack. We heard a lot about you. I bet everyone will be eager to talk to you.”
On the other side of Cas, Sam gets more fidgety; he says, “If you think uh – we don’t want any trouble.”
But she shakes her head and gestures dismissively. “Nonsense. No one will start trouble if they don't wanna see the end of my rifle. A friend of yours is a friend of mine,” she reassures him. “Plus, Eileen vouched for him.”
“Sh-she is here already?” Sam almost chokes up and all of the sudden he seems to have grown a few inches taller.
Dean understands now. He pieces together his insistence in coming to this thing, his bouncing knee throughout their journey, the way he checked his phone more or less forty-five times. He feels slightly less bad about having caved in. There are a lot of things that Dean would give up for Sam, and things that he would conjure out of thin air just for him to have, if he could. But there’s so much he can’t give him and he wants Sam to just get out and take, have and enjoy. So if he wanted to come here just to meet Eileen again, Dean’s happy to be complicit.
Sam is the first to disappear in the packed living room, with Jack following right behind, but Dean grabs Castiel’s elbow before he can take another step. He circles him to block him from the entrance and says, “Hey, stick with me, alright? Last time I was at one of these things this guy Norman talked about his knife collection for three hours.”
“But, Jack…”
“He’s with Sam, he’s gonna be fine,” says Dean, dismissing. He grins, “Come on, I’ll introduce you to some people; don’t you wanna make friends?”
Cas makes a face but doesn't say anything else. Apparently Jack is not the only one who he seems unable to refuse something to and that makes Dean feel good. He trails after him around the room as Dean stops to say hello from familiar face to familiar face.
There’s Max and Alicia, sprawled on a couch, nursing the worst hangover Dean’s seen in a long time. They say they're happy to see him, but then they eye Cas up and down and Max says something along the lines of, “Oh, I see now why you keep him hidden from us," and that prompts Dean to quickly move along.
Then they bump into this old man who claims to have been one of the patrons of the Roadhouse. Dean has no idea who he is, but he swears he remembers him from when he was a boy - of course he remembers, and hey, if he needs anything, did he know that he was retired but still kept an eye out for monster sightings, and did he hear of that one time he and Bill Harvelle -
Dean tries to nod and smile appropriately for the whole time and when they finally manage to escape him, Cas leads him to an empty corner where they can take refuge.
"I didn't think there would be this many people," Cas says, surveying the room clearly looking for Jack.
Dean elbows him and points at where the kid is talking animatedly to two young hunters he's never seen, "What is he even talking about?"
"Our last case."
"Wh-? Oh, right, I always forget you have the superhearing," then he has a thought and adds, "Hey, you gonna tell me if you hear someone talking shit about me, right?"
Cas' eyebrows raise in thinly veiled amusement and that's all the answer Dean needs, "What? Who?" he asks, outraged.
But Cas doesn't have time to answer before they get interrupted and soon surrounded by hunters Dean's seen on the road, worked with, heard about. Some share their epic tales of escapes from impossible dangers, some are curious and some are brave and blunt and they ask Cas questions and address him without fear and Cas is polite and just a tiny bit awkward.
It gets a little chilly when this guy with too many beers in starts bragging about how he knows all about angels' weaks spots. Cas' face stays as stony as it gets for the whole time but then he says “I suggest you check your sources,” with a deep voice that runs a shiver down Dean’s spine, and he’s not even the one who’s directing his intense gaze at.
There are so many different people that Cas doesn't stick out like a sore thumb, and Dean finds himself thinking that if they were just two regular hunters in a crowd and nothing more, perhaps some things would be easier.
He almost sighs of relief when he eyes Eileen on the other side of the room and steers Cas towards her.
"I can't believe I still haven't had a single beer," he mutters as they elbow their way through the crowd. Sam hovers around her with a timid smile plastered on his face that doesn’t seem to take any breaks.
Dean hugs her and tries not to follow Cas’ movement with the corner of his eyes when he senses him stepping away from his side.
Eileen calls his attention back. She makes fun of him saying, “Sam told me you didn’t want to come. Getting too old to leave the house?”
“Very funny,” Dean says.
“Next time we can organize something at the bunker. There’s so much space," she says, smirking.
Dean thinks 'Yeah, no way' and says, “Yeah, no way,” and she laughs.
“But you,” Dean adds, “you can come stay with us. Anytime. For as long as you want. We would love to have you. Me, Sam,” he says wiggling his eyebrows in a way that has his brother close his eyes in embarrassment, “you’re always welcome.”
“Thank you,” she signs, blushing a little, “I’ll try to come by.”
Dean is glad to know that. She has opened a door in Sam’s life that he probably thought closed forever and Dean will always be grateful to her for that. Also, she is a badass and totally out of his brother’s dorky league.
Cas comes standing by his side again and Dean feels a gentle touch on the small of his back. It's intimate and unexpected so he steps away immediatly almost on instict and Cas' drops his hand. He meets his gaze and they frown at each other for a second. Cas seems about to say something, but then goes back to sporting his usual face, “I think I saw Claire. I’m going to find her.”
So Dean, with that spot on his lower back still tingling, follows him out of the room and into another where there’s only a few scattered hunters and Jack, happily squeezed on a couch with his new friends, his mouth hanging open as he hears a story from this guy named Ronnie that Dean knows for a fact only talks shit. The kid seems to be having fun though, he waves at them as move along.
They find Claire in the empty white kitchen, and catch her right when she’s about to open herself a beer. Her eyes widen in panic but she doesn’t manage to hide the bottle behind her back fast enough.
“Hey guys,” she says with a nervous laugh, “didn’t know you were going to be here.”
Dean stretches out a hand without a word and she drops the act, sighs and hands it over. Before she can say anything else, Cas steps between them, "Claire, it's nice to see you," he says and she lets him squeeze her into a hug.
Pressed against his shoulder, Dean sees her face change expression, her body slightly relax in his arms. She pats him on the back and says: “Good to see you too, Cas.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Just passing through,” she replies, putting on airs, “Finished up a job a few miles north. I thought I’d drop by Carol’s before moving on.”
She flips a strand of blonde hair over her shoulder and Dean scoffs.
“So you are in Kansas, and you don’t call, and you drop by Carol’s? Were you even planning on stopping by the bunker?”
She rolls her eyes at him, “I go where the job takes me, Dean. I don’t make plans.”
Dean rolls his eyes in the exact same way, “Right. Well, you know it wouldn’t kill you to stay with us for a while. We could get you a bit of training.”
She groans as if she's heard that same speech about a thousand times, but Cas cuts off whatever she was going to retort with and says, “We weren’t planning on coming either. Sam and Jack are here too.”
“Jack’s here?” she lights up. She says she's heard all sorts of things about him and she can’t wait to meet the kid and of course she’s gonna go easy on him, it’s not like she’s gonna eat him, Jesus, Dean, protective much?
Dean frowns at her but she’s already halfway out of the room. “I can be his big sister. I mean, he should have someone he can talk to. Living with you three must be – a lot.”
“Hey,” protests Dean, but she just laughs and disappears down the hallway.
Dean shakes his head and leans against one of the kitchen counters. Cas does the same against the opposite island. At the end of the narrow passage between the furniture there’s a glass door that gives into the patio and a small garden beyond it.
The door is ajar and fresh air comes in; Cas gets engrossed in watching the pattern the raindrops formed on the glass and Dean gets engrossed in watching Cas. He seems lost in thought and Dean would like to say something but doesn’t want to be annoying. Not today, not when tomorrow he could be gone.
He’ll take this quiet moment instead.
“She’ll be a bad influence on Jack,” he breaks the silence, and that gets him an amused quirk of lips, “But it really would be nice to have her around more often.”
Curiously that has Cas' take his eyes away from the glass and lay his gaze on him. He has his lips pressed in a small smile.
“What?”
“You want people you love around you.”
Dean frowns, “What about it?” he asks, and it comes out sharp and defensive.
Cas shakes his head a little, but there’s a shadow on his face that confuses him: “Nothing, I only meant -" but he doesn’t get to finish his sentence, because a group of hunters enters the kitchen talking loudly and soon Dean has his vision blocked by half a dozen bodies and he has to press himself against the cabinets to let them through, towards the garden door.
One guy in a baseball cap stops in his track as he sees Dean.
He asks with his eyes wide and stunned expression if he is Dean Winchester, the Dean Winchester and Dean is glad that the rest of the group is already out of earshot because he wasn’t in the mood for a meet and greet session. But the guy starts talking about some hunter named Troy, who he has supposedly hunted with a couple of years back. And Dean’s not in a habit of calling people liars but he's pretty sure he'd remember if he had wiped out a nest of fangs with this guy and allegedly taken down five all on his own and went and get steaks and beer afterwards.
He tries to shoot him down gently and say, “Maybe your friend had me confused with someone else,” but the guy’s face falls and tells him Troy has recently passed on the job and this was his favourite story to tell, and he would always tell it, all proud and all.
Dean pats him on a shoulder then.
“You know what, we shouldn’t ruin it for him now, should we? Troy, you say? Of course I remember him,” he says and throws in a wink. The guy beams at him and thanks him and gets a little chocked up because Troy might have been a liar but he swears he was one of the good ones.
The guy invites him to join his friends for a drink but Dean raises his half-empty bottle and says “I’m fine, thanks.”
When the guy walks away, Cas moves to lean on the counter by his side. Dean feels the familiar weight of his arm against his and he wonders if they could pick up the conversation where they left it. But Cas says:
“That was nice of you.”
Dean shrugs looking down at their shoes lined up and for some reason he thinks it’s a funny sight. If they were just two shoe wearing creatures standing side by side and nothing more, perhaps some things would be easier.
“Doesn't really change my life. And it's a good story,” he huffs a laugh, it comes out bitter, “Better than some of the true ones anyway.”
“I understand what you mean,” says Cas with a sigh and Dean extends his arm to offer him his beer, and even though Cas usually refuses, this time he takes it.
Dean does his best not to follow his hand bringing the bottle to his lips. And he does his best, later, not to wonder if the wetness touching his lips when he drinks is just beer or something else.
If they were just two drinking creatures, sharing a bottle of beer and nothing more, perhaps everything would be easier.
Soon the bottle is empty and Cas says, “I’ll get you another one,” but Dean refuses.
It’s nice there - someone's turned the music on in the other room, but here it's muffled by the walls, and the light is just right to make Cas’ eyes look like sapphires. They don’t need to move.
But then the group of hunters out in the patio erupts in laughter and Cas’ gaze shifts on them and then lingers on the glass door.
Dean feels him slipping from him once again. He sighs, “You wanna go out, check the garden?”
Cas nods and heads out and Dean can’t do anything but follow, past the hunters and the patio. They walk the perimeter of the small square of grass, wet and glistening with old rain. The sun and the clouds draw patches of light on the ground and they move from dark to light to dark again in an irregular rhythm, chasing the warmth of the sunlight and the relief of the shade. Dean feels uncomfortable in both, but there’s no middle line he can walk on.
“Sorry we dragged you here,” he finds himself saying, “You never stick around, and for once that you do, that’s what you get.”
Cas frowns slightly at him, “I stick around,” he protests.
Dean laughs, “You don’t,” he says and although he tries to reign it in with the bitterness, it stills seeps out. Cas’ gaze prompts him to explain himself, “Come on, the minute we’re done with a case you are out of here. I don’t blame you,” he quickly adds cutting off whatever Cas was opening his mouth to say. “I know you don’t like sitting around. Believe me, no one understands that more than I do.”
A long beat passes and then Cas says, “I’m sorry, I never meant to make you feel like I don’t want to spend time with you.”
Dean stops in his tracks and Cas stops with him to face him.
Dean shakes his head, “Cas, you don’t have to apologize to me. This is not about me. And I said, I get it,” he shrugs.
Cas doesn’t look at all convinced and Dean doesn’t feel at all convinced either. He knows this is not about his feelings. It’s more like a general way of how things are. It’s a truth, a fact. Sam would say the same.
Sam would. Standing here in the garden with him, Sam would tell him the very same things and wish for the very same things. He’s sure he would. He's not accusing Cas of anything. On the contrary, he’s showing him understanding.
“It’s all the same for me, I swear. I don't care,” he adds, but saying that hurts a little, for some reason he can’t quite determine, and he finds his own frown mirrored on Cas’ face.
“Alright,” he says, sounding profoundly sad and again the same shadow passes on his face.
This is all wrong. What did he do?
“Look, I don’t get what you want me to say. If you wanted to - ” he exhales, angrily, “Just - forget it, let’s go back inside,” he says but as he tries to walk away Cas stops him by his elbow.
“You could ask me.”
He looks unsure, troubled, as if he is not quite certain this is a good idea. Dean breathes out a confused, “What?” that he himself can barely hear.
Cas squares his shoulders, “To stay. You could ask me,” he sounds accusing, and he takes a step forward. His eyes are firm in Dean’s and with his elbow still in his grip, he feels like a hummingbird flapping his wings in the paw of a dragon, “You ask everybody else.”
Dean’s heart starts pounding. He tries to swallow but his mouth is too dry.
“I don’t wanna ask you, Cas,” he says, cutting, yanking his arm free of his hold, and it sounds bad, bad, bad to his ears and he can read hurt all over Cas’ face. He needs to explain himself. He takes a breath, says a lame, “I mean, if you don't -”
And then, Dean suddenly understands.
Cas thinks he doesn’t -
He thinks he doesn’t care if he’s around and doesn’t ask because he doesn’t need him.
Dean feels like his heart is about to leap out of his chest. He’s not ready for this. He’s not ready for this. He fights the need to look down. He doesn’t know why this is so hard for him. It’s just Cas. But that’s the point, isn’t it? It’s Cas. It would hurt ten times more if he were to say no. It’s nothing like with Claire, he asked her for her; it’s nothing like with Eileen, he asked her for Sam. But if he asked Cas, he would be asking for himself, wouldn’t he?
Seeing him walk away anyway would be too much then.
But maybe he wouldn’t.
Cas senses his struggle, “If you want, you can ask me,” he says, coming closer, in his eyes his timeless patience, that gaze that tells him that he is seen, he is known. Cas says: “I will say yes,” and it’s barely more than a whisper but Dean’s brain is a step away from short-circuiting anyway.
He looks away and he doesn’t recognize his own voice when he blurts out a hurried, muttered, nervous, almost angry: “Well, stay, then.”
But then a sunbeam decides to cut through the clouds in that exact moment and has Dean looking up again. The lazy sunlight of an early afternoon shines on Cas’ face. He’s not bothered by the sudden change of light, unlike Dean, who has to squint and bring a hand to his forehead.
Cas’ eyes sparkle like shimmering water when he says, “Okay.”
Dean barely remembers what happens after that. That image gets imprinted behind his eyelids and he can’t stop thinking about it.
He floats through a darts game and a dozen of Carol’s sandwiches. Then there's Jack telling an embarrassing story about him that has people folding in two with laughter, and Claire agreeing on following them back to the bunker only with the promise of destroying him at foosball.
There's Sam introducing him to this lady to work a job together on alledged arachnes activity in Winsconsin and a girl who wants him to debunk some stuff she's heard about them but she doesn't believe (he disappoints her cause they are mostly true) but most importantly, there's Cas' thigh pressed against his when he's sitting and Cas’ shoulder just an inch away when he's standing, and somehow it's different than it was before.
Most of all, he feels lighter than he's felt in ages.
*
Later, as he gets to his car with Sam, he says, “Hey, you know, you were right. It was a little fun,” and his brother looks at him in disbelief.
“Are you kidding me? We came here to meet new people and you spent all your time with Cas.”
Dean shrugs, embarrassed to be called out. “So what? You spent all your time with Eileen,” he says and he regrets it immediately, especially as Sam purses his lips like he’s holding back a laugh.
He nods, “I see your point,” he says diplomatically, stressing the t, before he slips into the passenger seat.
Dean doesn’t look forward in continuing the conversation, crammed in a small space with his ears burning and Sam’s gigantic enquiring eyes on him, thank you very much, so he stays out of the car, his arms crossed on the roof, frowning at himself.
He watches as Cas comes down the little pathway with Jack and Claire. In the orange light of the sunset, Jack turns to ask him something and Cas nods. Typical. At the end of the path they split and only Cas makes his way across the street.
"Jack is riding with Claire," he says as soon as he's within earshot. He sounds like he doesn't think it's a good idea and it's a little funny.
"Relax, we're gonna be right behind them."
Cas seems reassured by that, but it only lasts the time it takes for him to make his way around the car, because even before he can grab the car handle, Claire speeds past them shouting, "See you, dorks." Now he looks truly alarmed.
Dean says, "You up for a ride after we drop Sam off?” and all his worry melts away from his face. He says a soft, “Alright,” and disappears into the backseat.
So when they get to the bunker, Dean doesn't follow Claire’s car to the garage and stops up front, the engine running. Sam looks at him confused, “We’ll be here in an hour,” Dean just says, grateful for the shadows around his face.
Sam is stunned for just a second, then snorts, “Fine guys, I’ll babysit tonight, but next time you gotta ask.”
He gets out and the next moment Cas has taken his seat. He doesn't waste time to pop one of Dean's tapes in the deck as he takes the road again.
Dean rolls his window down and in the night air that ruffles his hair he can smell another storm coming. He turns the music up and meets Cas’ eyes. There’s a smile in there somewhere that mirrors his own.
And - they may not be just two individuals in a car going nowhere and nothing more, and things may not be easy, probably never will, but maybe, Dean thinks, it doesn’t really matter in the end.
#deancas#deancas ficlet#destiel fanfic#deancas fanfic#destiel#4.9k#this is about how dumb they are#'why doesn't he stay VS why doesn't he ask me to stay' kind of dumb#their usual basically#jack claire and eileen are in this#i wish we got to see more of the hunter community cooperating#in the beginning there were waaay less people - then i guess i just miss crowds#how do you do titles#spncreatorsdaily#my writing#ive been working on this for ages and im still not sure i did it right
76 notes
·
View notes
Text
Broken Melody - Part Thirty Two
Masterlist
Summary: Grammy Award winning Emma Danvers is the first to say she has a pretty good life. But what happens when it implodes around her and it looks like things will never be the same again?
Words: 8.6k+ (opps)
Warnings: Fluff, Angst, PTSD moments
Pairings: Emma Danvers x Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers x Sam Arias
This Part: Two weeks before the surgery, the Danvers sisters find out something about their Mom and the Superfriends go bowling!
Surprise! Two days later! What is going on? I had a lot of fun writing this. Sorry it got so long!
Thank you for reading and let me know if you wanna be tagged or any general feedback will be greatly appreciated. Please! I like knowing your thoughts.
Taglist: @finleyfray, @life-is-hella-unfair, @natasha-danvers, @supergirl-writingz, @camslightstories, @thinking1bee, @aznblossom
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/5ccc2708c96f7188d88e6b7c5c15af55/f9a55cdde4fba35f-94/s540x810/d835651653cb47e5730aa45d2aac171d4dcb08a3.jpg)
2 Weeks Before The Surgery
Emma slowly wakes up and stretches her whole body while voicelessly yawning. Generally her sleep hasn’t been as disturbed as before, but Emma is still finding she doesn’t feel as refreshed as she should when she wakes up.
Her hand reaches out for Lena, but finds the space next to her empty and cold. She blinks her eyes open and silently sighs when there is no sign of her girlfriend.
Lena had warned that she may have to work on Saturday due to the volume of business piling up. But she'd already said she needed to recharge.
Still.
Even though Sam and Lena have been hiring more staff to work the caseloads and Lena has been supervising the team leaders in the labs. The workload just seems never ending for L-Corp at the moment.
Causing Emma to barely see her girlfriend this week leaving Lena to usually stumble tiredly into the apartment after Emma has gone to bed. She’d sleepily brush her teeth, flop into bed, sometimes fully clothed and make Emma jump awake by the bounce of the bed. If Lena was still clothed in her tight business clothes, Emma would carefully change Lena into her pyjamas so she could sleep more comfortably. Emma would then kiss her on the forehead due to the raven haired beauty already being asleep.
Then Lena would wake up before her alarm, leaving Emma to sleep in as Lena quietly sneaks out of the apartment to head to L-Corp before sunrise. There wasn’t even much time for them to have lunch together but Emma would savour the moments she could have with Lena.
However, last night when Lena stumbled through the bedroom door, Emma had still been awake and once Lena crawled into bed and into Emma’s arms, she had groaned that she would take Saturday off to recharge.
‘Guess not.’ Emma thinks sadly while rolling out of bed to use the bathroom. She wobbles slightly as the room spins but Emma was getting used to the sensation.
Afterwards she grabs her phone and sees a message from her Mom
Eliza: Morning Sweetheart! Was wondering if you and Lena wanted to grab breakfast/brunch/lunch with me? Depending on what time you wake up of course!
Emma’s heart warms at how her Mom always wants to include Lena in their outings, which evidently, has started to dwindle. Emma glances at the time on her phone and sees it’s just gone 10:30am.
Emma: Yes please! Although it will be just me cause Lena has to work. 🥺
Where would you like to go? Do you want me to pick you up?
Due to everything happening Eliza had decided to rent an apartment that was close to the DEO and in a location that was in the middle of her daughter’s apartments. Emma was still impressed that her Mom managed to achieve all this in such a short time. But once her Mom’s mind was set on something, she went for it and no one would dare tell her to go back to Midvale.
Eliza: That’s a shame. How about that beach cafe you rave about so much?
Emma snorts at her Mom’s text.
Emma: Mom, I rave about a lot of beach cafés…
Eliza: Is that sarcasm I detect?
Emma: Noooo
Eliza: Anyway, you choose sweetheart, I am ready when you are. Just let me know when you are leaving.
Emma: Great! Give me 15 mins!
Emma quickly places her phone on the bed and races to the walk-in wardrobe, having had her shower the night before she waited for Lena to come home.
Suddenly the room spins and warps around her. Emma closes her eyes, waiting for the moment to pass. Thankfully it does and she continues her task. Choosing blue skinny jeans, a white t-shirt with gold stars on and a black hoodie. She stuffs her feet into black converses and grabs her phone, texting her Mom and places it into her messenger bag.
Emma: Just leaving now.
But as Emma heads for the door she notices a piece of paper on the island. Intrigued, she zips over, banging her knee into the corner of the unit. Unknowingly cracking the hard unit slightly.
‘Mother fucker!’ Emma’s mind screams as she rubs her knee before focusing on Lena’s handwriting.
‘Good Morning my love,
I’m sorry for leaving you like this but I have to go into work. I will hopefully be able to come to the bowling alley. If not, please apologise to Nia and give her a hug from me.
All my love, Lena x’
Emma lets out a voiceless sigh, she knew Lena was not in the apartment, but seeing the proof frustrates her. Disappointment in her girlfriend starts to creep in, she hopes Lena can make it to the bowling alley, not for her, but for Nia. Who has been bouncing around like a puppy with how much she was looking forward to spending time with the Superfriends to celebrate her birthday.
Due to Lena’s connections they’ve managed to hire a VIP private room with a few lanes, meaning once they are through the doors they don't need to have any face modifiers activated.
Because of Lena’s note, Emma grabs Nia’s birthday gifts and card, just in case Emma doesn’t return to the apartment before the party.
Her phone bleeps and Emma quickly takes it out as she exits the apartment.
Eliza: Okay Sweetheart! Drive safe!
Emma rolls her eyes at her Mom’s message and resists sending a sarcastic comment back. Instead she smiles down at her phone while she enters the elevator and activates her face modifier. She chooses a face with a beauty mark like Marilyn Monroe and she can’t help but pull a sexy pout while studying the new face in the mirror of the elevator.
Soon the doors open into the garage level and Emma approaches the L-Car, while mournfully staring at her bug. She gets into the car Lena designed for her and drives to her Mom’s apartment.
Eventually she pulls up outside Eliza’s building and finds her Mom is already waiting outside, with J’onn by her side. They haven’t noticed her arrival as they continue talking. Emma watches them with interest, noticing the smiles on their faces and how close they are standing while facing each other. Her eyes lower and widen at the realisation that they are holding hands.
Emma gets out her phone and records a short video of the pair interacting, zooming in on their joined hands before turning the camera on herself and raising an eyebrow. Immediately she sends the video to her sister’s group chat and another to Lena.
Emma: Morning love! Hope work is going okay? So… Picking up Mom for brunch and I’ve come across this… I don’t know how to feel… I want to squeal in happiness and simultaneously wretch! Oh Rao… We’re gonna have to give him the shovel talk aren’t we? 😬
Suddenly there is a knock on the passenger window, making Emma jump in her seat. Looking over she realises her Mom is standing by the door, waiting to be let in and Emma unlocks the door.
“Morning Sweetheart.” Eliza says while sliding into the car and gives her youngest daughter a tight hug.
When they part, Emma looks around for J’onn.
“Oh he’s already left, doesn't want the shovel talk just yet.” Eliza jokes as she puts on her seat belt, Emma tilts her head, wondering how he would know that. “He heard your thoughts as you were messaging your sisters and Lena.”
Emma snorts and shakes her head, of course J’onn would have heard her. She drives the car away from the pavement and back into the traffic. The pair stay in comfortable silence as they listen to the radio with Emma tapping along to the beat. Eliza has been learning some sign language but knows Emma won’t be able to communicate while driving the car.
About half an hour later they pull into a car park by a very long beach and Emma grabs her phone to communicate with her Mom. She sees multiple messages from her sisters but decides she will look at them later. Instead opening the notes app and writing a message out for her Mom.
‘Do you mind walking 20 minutes to the café? I can see if there are more spaces near it, but they are generally full.’
Emma shows her typed out words to her Mom.
“Of course sweetheart! I know I’m old, but I’m not that old!”
Emma shakes her head in amusement. Not liking the thoughts of how her Mom is growing older, that her blonde hair is getting lighter and more lines are appearing on her face.
As Eliza goes to pull the handle on the door Emma stops her, causing Eliza to look back at her daughter.
“Sweetheart?”
Emma circles her face, indicating she needs to engage her face modifier.
“Oh! Of course!” Eliza quickly taps her temple and her face morphs into another.
Emma silently sighs as they both get out of the car, hoping the face modifiers can be made obsolete soon. When Emma closes the door she stumbles slightly as the world spins but she manages to catch herself on the car. She looks over at her Mom, but luckily it seems like she doesn’t notice.
“So! Which way do we go?” Eliza asks as she links her arm with Emma. Her daughter points down to the path leading down to the beach and the pair walk in sync along the coast.
Both breathe in the salty sea air and enjoy watching the waves as they gently crash against the shore.
“I’ll never get over how beautiful the sea is.” Eliza comments and Emma nods in agreement. The colours were especially beautiful today, more turquoise than blue.
“Do you remember the amount of times you’d drag us down to the beach? How you wanted to go, even when it was raining?” Eliza smiles brightly at her daughter and Emma nods. Remembering the amount of pictures showing Alex and Jeremiah sat together while Emma enjoyed being in the sea. “And then once you found out about surfing, that was it! Your Dad and Alex put their foot down when you wanted to go all the time.”
Unable to respond Emma just smiles at the memories and the utter thrill she felt when she managed to catch her first wave. How her parents cheered and Alex tried to look unimpressed, but her eyes gave her away that she indeed was impressed and proud of her sister.
Eliza continues reminiscing as they walk towards the beach hut café Lena and Emma had gone to a few weeks ago.
“Oh this looks wonderful!” Eliza says as she steps through the door and follows Emma to a free table by the window. Eliza sits and takes in the beach decor of the cafe. The white walls and ceiling with the wooded furniture and beach elements in the decoration.
Emma grabs her phone and types out a message for her. ‘Yea Lena and I love it here.’
“I can see why.”
Their waitress comes over and greets them, handing them menus for them to look over.
“What drinks can I get ya?” The waitress pulls a pencil from behind her ear.
“Oh a pot of tea for me and-” Eliza looks over at Emma who points at an apple juice and a bottle of water.
“Great! I’ll get those for you and leave you to decide on y’all food.”
“Thank you.” Eliza watches the waitress go before turning back to her masked daughter. Who sits looking out of the window and even though her daughter’s face is hidden, Eliza can see something isn’t right “So, how are you sweetheart?”
Emma picks up her phone and starts typing.
‘I’m okay, nervous about the surgery but also excited. I miss talking to you.’
“And I miss hearing your voice.” Eliza reaches out and takes Emma’s hand. “But whatever happens I’ll be here to take care of you. Even if we need to go home and get some of that mountain air into you.”
Emma smiles at the thought of going back to Midvale. She goes to type her reponse when a message from Alex pops up.
Alex: Emma answer me!
Alarmed Emma opens their group chat and starts from the beginning of the thread where Emma sent the video.
Kara: Wait what?!
Alex: When did this happen?!
Emma snorts as she reads through the continuous back and forth between her two sisters as they try to piece together their Mom’s relationship with J’onn and how they felt about it. Ranging from many different emotions, Kara seemingly being more accepting, while Alex pleads Emma for more information and her location.
“Kara and Alex?” Eliza chuckles as she watches Emma’s expressions as she reads. Emma nods and grins back at her in confirmation.
Emma: Sorry I’m with Mom atm and didn’t see your hundreds of messages.
Kara: Where?
Emma: In a café ☕️
Alex: Which cafe?
Emma: Not telling 😜
Emma places her phone back on the table as the waitress comes over with the drinks. The pair order their food and Eliza can’t help but notice how Emma’s phone keeps lighting up.
“What’s that about?”
Emma hesitates but clicks on the video she recorded of her Mom and J’onn.
“Emma!” Eliza’s eyes widen as she watches. “Did you send that to your sisters?”
Emma nods guilty.
“Oh well.” Eliza takes a sip of her tea. “I did think you all already knew something, Sam and Lena seemed to have cotton on.”
Emma tilts her head and tries to remember any conversations she had with Lena about this topic. But she comes up empty.
“Oh what a surprise!” Eliza places her cup down and smiles over at the door.
Emma twists in her seat to see Alex rushing through the doorway with her phone in hand and Kara standing right behind her.
“Look! All I’m saying is that tracking Emma’s phone feels like an invasion of privacy.” Kara whispers as they move further into the cafe.
“She’s with Mom, it’s fine.” Alex snaps back and notices the table with two blondes. One beaming at her and the other looking confused. The redhead quickly marches over and sits next to, who she presumes, is Emma. Kara drops into the chair next to Eliza and straightens her glasses.
“What a nice surprise! I thought you said you were busy this morning?”
“Plans change.” Alex quips back.
“They sure do, are you joining us for brunch?”
“Do you want us to?” Kara looks directly at Emma, knowing they are taking her time away with Eliza. Emma nods and shrugs, signaling she was okay with it. “Okay, I’ll get some menus and drinks.”
“Make mine a scotch.” Alex calls after her and turns back to her Mom. “So, how long has it been going on?”
“Alex.” Eliza tiredly sighs. “We are just enjoying each other's company and supporting one another through this time.”
“But why him?” Alex asks in frustration.
“Why not him? We’ve been through so much together and I know he views you as his daughters.”
“Makes sense.” Kara places two mugs of coffee on the table and the menus. “The waitress will be over in a second and will bring our food out together.”
The table falls silent as Alex and Kara look over the menu while Emma’s eyes glance between her family, surprised by Alex’s simmering hostility.
The waitress comes back over and the sisters order. The waitress turns to go but pauses and turns back around. “I don't mean to be rude but aren't you Emma Danvers’ sisters?”
“Erm-” Kara’s eyes go wide when they realise their mistake of not activating the face modifiers.
“Don’t worry, we won’t say anything! It’s a pleasure! Also, when you see Emma, please tell her we miss her and look forward to serving her again.” The waitress beams at them before heading to the kitchen to process their order.
Touched by her comment Emma’s eyes begin to fill with tears and she looks out of the window at the sea to hide them from her family. But she misses the knowing expressions on their faces.
“So.” Alex clears her throat and focuses on her Mom. “Is it serious?”
“I would like it to be.” Eliza says honestly, making Emma wipe her face and turn back to look at her.
“But what about Dad?” The redhead says quietly, almost sounding vulnerable, as she crosses her arms over her chest.
“Alex, in some ways, I will always love your father, despite everything that happened. But he’s gone and we had spoken that if anything ever happened to either one of us we would want the other to move on. For a very long time I didn’t feel at all able to, but I’ve finally got to the stage where I finally feel like I can.”
Emma sucks in her bottom lip and reaches out for her Mom’s hand. She nods and gives her Mom an encouraging smile, giving her blessing on the matter.
“Thank you sweetheart.” Eliza places her other hand over her daughter’s.
“When did it start?” Kara asks, blinking at her family as if trying to make sense of it.
“For me, I’ve always-” Eliza pauses, trying to find the right words for her daughters. She feels Emma gently squeezing her hand in reassurance. Eliza takes a deep breath and continues. “I’ve always liked him, in either form.” A small, sweet smile plays across her lips, Emma mirrors it as she watches her Mom closely.
“But when did it start?” Alex asks sternly, causing both Kara and Emma to give her a hard look.
“Girls, it's fine.” Eliza lets go of Emma’s hand and motions for Alex to give her her hand. But Alex keeps her arms crossed. Eliza sighs before continuing. “The truth is, our relationship developed while you all were still in the DEO. I mean, everyone had been so kind and welcoming, Nia especially made sure I always had a drink or she’d give me these little cakes from the bakery I like. Brainy, bless him, seemed at times unable to process what he was feeling. At one point I came into the lab and he was just so-” Eliza lifts her hands and motions them forward to emphasise the words. “Angry. I held him as he wept for the three of you. In some ways I fell into the Mom role for all of them. Sam likes to think she was the Mom too, but there were times I had to remind her to take care of herself.”
“And then there was J’onn. He saw the pain I was in and was the one who held me, told me that everything was going to be alright and we’d get through it together.” Eliza’s eyes mist over with tears. “For the first time, in a long time, I felt safe as he held me in his arms and the feelings we have for each other grew. We understood each other, our pain at our daughters' situations and the love between us grew.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Kara asks curiously.
“It wasn’t really the right time.” Eliza’s mind shoots back to when Kara and Alex had been imprisoned in their cells. The hatred burning in their glowing red eyes and the agony within Emma’s bloodshot ones.
“Or after that?” Alex asks, trying to process what she is feeling.
“Maybe, selfishly, I wanted to have this to myself for a while. Because I knew you’d react this way.”
Alex’s nostrils flare and she leans forward. “Well maybe if you had been honest in the first place-”
Emma’s hand on her arm cuts her off and she turns to angrily glare at her.
“No, Em! Mom should have told us.”
“You’re right.” Eliza’s words make her daughters’ heads snap to her. “I should have told you, but I didn’t. However, now you know.”
“Please Alex, Mom deserves to be happy.” Emma pleads.
“I agree.” Kara softly says and places her hand on Eliza’s shoulder.
Before Alex can say anything the waitress comes over with their food. They start eating with the tension simmering between them.
“I’m sorry.” Alex murmurs quietly, her head down as she cuts her food.
“I know.” Eliza reaches across the table and takes Alex’s hand “And I am too. I know how much you still love your Dad and that will never change.”
Emma places her hand on Alex’s arm, completely understanding what her sister was feeling but also wanting her Mom to be happy.
“Soo, talking of love.” Kara begins, trying to steer the subject away from Eliza but soon loses her nerves as three pairs of eyes focus on her. “Erm-”
“Someone caught your eye?” Emma signs and raises an eyebrow at her sister.
“Maybe.” Kara giggles shyly.
“Who?” Alex widens her eyes slightly. “That new guy working with James?”
“What new guy working with James?!” Emma signs to both of her sisters and looks at her Mom in disbelief.
“His name is Benvolio Rossi, Ben for short, he was named after his Grandpa who migrated over from Italy and Ben moved here a few months from New York. I saw him around the office but didn’t talk to him until recently. Well, Nia kind of pushed me over to him and we ended up chatting, flirting and getting coffee.” A shy, beaming smile grows on Kara’s face.
“Picture?!” Emma signs excitedly and claps her hands.
“Okay!” Kara pulls out her phone and goes onto Ben’s facebook profile. “Here he is.” She turns the phone around.
“Eh.” Alex shrugs half heartedly and shoves in a mouthful of food.
“Alex!” Kara yells at her sister.
“What I’m a lesbian! Man things don’t do it for me.”
Emma snorts and motions Kara for her phone, so she can look at the picture properly. She tilts her head as she studies his face, feeling a sense of familiarity as she looks at him.
His olive skin glowed in the sun and his face was chiseled and handsome with shiny black hair, groomed stubble and warm brown eyes.
“Em?” Kara asks, intrigued by the curious expression on her sister's face. Emma hands the phone to Eliza who also wants to look.
“Oh he’s handsome.” Eliza exclaims. “Wow!”
“Yea.” Kara says with a goofy smile. “But-” Kara turns back to Emma. “Why were you looking at the picture like that?”
“I feel like I’ve met him before. Was he press at the gigs?”
“Well he does everything but, yea, I imagine he would have been at some of your gigs.”
“Cool! What’s he like?”
The conversations soon flow onto Kara’s new crush as the Danvers eat their meal.
-- -- --
Time passes and the family realise they need to be leaving soon to get to Nia’s bowling birthday party.
“Shall we go together?” Emma signs as they exit the cafe.
“Sure.” Alex says and holds out her hand for the keys. “But I’m driving.”
Emma looks at her scandalised and backs away from her eldest sister. “Excuse me?! I’m a better driver than you!”
Alex stalks her as Kara and Eliza link arms, trailing behind them and chatting amongst themselves.
“Don’t be so ridiculous! I’ve been trained-”
“Whoop de doo!” Emma holds her hands up.
“I can’t believe you actually just signed that!”
Emma shrugs. “Are you forgetting that I had two minors on my driving test and you had fourteen?! I still wonder how you managed to convince that poor man of passing you.” Emma signs cheekily and quickly lifts her top slightly with a raised eyebrow and sticks her tongue out to the side.
“Oh now you’ve done it!” Alex yells and Emma immediately turns around and runs after seeing the spark in her sister’s eyes.
“Run Emma!” Kara yells as Alex chases after her, both laughing as Emma dodges her attempts at catching her.
“Those two.” Eliza chuckles and shakes her head as she watches her daughters jump down onto the beach, sand flying everywhere from their chase.
Eliza turns her head to look at Kara, who watches her blonde and redheaded sisters with a big grin and laughs along with them.
“So, Ben, does he know anything?”
“No.” Kara says quickly. “I mean, there was one incident.”
“Kara!”
“Okay, maybe four.” Kara admits and quickly continues talking. “But they were completely out of my control and I don’t think he knows anything.”
“Does Alex know about these ‘incidences’?”
“No…”
They both look over and watch as finally Alex manages to grab a hold of Emma while the blonde slips on a sand mound and Alex jumps on her back, wrapping her arms around Emma’s shoulders.
“Onward valet steed!” Alex yells and points at the path.
Emma blows out a breath of amusement and trots back up to Kara and her Mom, glad that she could take Alex’s weight.
“How far away is the car?” Alex asks her Mom with a grin.
“Well after you're messing about, probably ten minutes.”
“Ah kay. Peanut let me down.”
Emma answers by shaking her head as she starts walking and tightening her grip on Alex’s thighs.
“Em-ma!” Alex laughs as Emma picks up her speed and runs further down the path.
-- -- --
Soon the Danvers are pulling into the carpark outside of the massive bowling alley and Emma can’t help but feel excitement as she gets out of the L-Car.
She quickly double checks everyone has their face modifiers activated, which Emma can’t wait to deactivate when they enter their private room.
“Ready?” Eliza says, smiling at her daughters.
“Yup!” Kara bounces on her toes and grins happily.
When they approach the doors Emma winces at the overwhelming sound of the bowling balls slamming the pins.
‘Why’s it so loud?’ Emma thinks but tries to hide her discomfort from her family. The blonde zeros in on Kara who also looks slightly pained. Emma then focuses on Kara’s glasses and realises the damper isn’t turned on. Reaching over she presses the hidden button to turn them on and Kara visibly deflates in relief.
“Thanks Em.” Kara breathes out.
“You’re welcome.” Emma signs and wishes there was a similar device for humans as she can’t help but flinch when they enter the building.
“Hello ladies!” A man greets them at the desk.
“Hi! We’re here for Princess Leia’s birthday party.” Alex informs the clerk with the hidden codename, who nods and waves over one of his colleagues.
“My colleague here will escort you to your room. Have a great time!”
“Thanks!” Kara squeals happily and follows the clerk up towards some stairs that are roped off and being guarded by security personnel.
Emma raises her eyebrow slightly at Alex as they pass them. Knowing they were Lena’s doing to make sure no members of the public will intrude on the Superfriends and messing with Emma’s timeline of recovery.
The most recent post to Emma’s social media accounts were of staged physiotherapy sessions, showing Emma slowly walking between the rails. So to have any other photos of Emma moving around more freely would cause a media frenzy that no one wanted to face.
Lucy had sent strict instructions to all the Superfriends that photos can be taken but they will have to wait to be posted.
“Here we are!” The clerk leads them to the doors where another security guard is standing by. “Shoes should already be in there plus many different balls for you to choose from.”
Emma lets out two quick breaths of laughter, causing Eliza to tap her shoulder in disapproval. Which makes both Alex and Kara chuckle while they walk through the doors.
Once inside the room Emma turns around and signs with a smirk on her face. “Balls!” Making her sisters laugh louder.
“You’re here!” Nia rushes over to them and flings her arms around Kara. “Isn’t this amazing?!”
Emma looks past Nia and has to agree, the room was an upgraded version to the main area downstairs. It almost looked brand new and was filled with tables of food and drink.
“Kara, save some for later.” Eliza instructs in a motherly tone as Kara makes her way over to the feast.
“O-kay.” Kara pouts and rushes over to grab their shoes instead.
“Oh! And Emma?” Nia beams at the blonde when their eyes connect. “Please disengage your face mask immediately!”
Emma nods and taps her temple. The Superfriends cheer and immediately Emma enjoys the freeing feeling on her face when the modifier disappears.
“That’s sooo much better!” Nia opens her arms wide and Emma beams at the brunette while she gives her a hug. When they pull apart Emma notices that her family have disengaged theirs too.
But then Emma’s eyes search around the room for Lena.
‘Where is she?’ Emma worries when she can’t find her girlfriend.
“Sam said Lena was right behind her, so she should be here any minute.” J’onn answers and takes an apprehensive step towards the blonde.
‘Hi J’onn.’ Emma thinks coolly, her smile fades as she crosses her arms and sizes him up.
J’onn hesitates for a moment until Emma’s face breaks out into a grin and she holds her arms out to him.
‘Come here!’ Emma’s mind happily yells out.
J’onn laughs in relief and wraps her in a bear hug.
‘But seriously though, you hurt my Mom and I will hunt you down! Even if you go back to Mars or something!’ Emma threatens while still in his arms.
“I promise I won’t hurt her.” J’onn whispers gently in her ear.
‘Pinky.’ Emma demands, stepping back and holding out her pinky finger.
“I pinky promise.” J’onn says seriously and wraps his big pinky finger around Emma’s.
“What you pinky promising about?” Kara asks as she bounds over to them to give J’onn a hug.
“Well, that I won’t hurt your mother.”
“Yea cause if you do I will fling you into the sun!” Kara says seriously and Alex comes to stand by her side.
“Or I kill you with said pinky.” Alex threatens while drinking a beer.
“Alex!” Emma signs and rolls her eyes at the bottle.
“What?! It’s my day off and it's past lunch time!”
Emma shakes her head and goes to collect her bowling shoes. She frowns when the only pairs left are her and Lena’s.
Reaching into her bag Emma pulls her phone out and still sees no messages from her girlfriend.
“So, shall we wait a little longer or get started? We have the room for five more hours, meaning plenty of games of bowling.” Brainy asks everyone as he rubs his hands together. Allowing his feelings of glee to come through.
“Yea, why don’t we start and we can always bowl for Lena until she arrives.” Nia smiles at everyone and races over to the scoring computer to input everyone's names. Kara follows her as they debate whether to use their real names or make nicknames up for everyone.
“If she comes.” Sam mutters under her breath as she angrily pulls her phone out. Both Kara and Emma turn their heads to stare at her in confusion, not quite believing what they heard. Surely Lena wouldn’t miss this?
“Emma, have you chosen a ball yet?” Lucy asks, making Emma jump by her sudden appearance.
The blonde shakes her head and goes over to the rack where the bowling balls are kept.
Emma looks for a ten pound bowling ball, the kind she normally uses and finds a cool looking purple and black one. Emma reaches down and prepares herself to pick it up, not wanting to twinge a muscle for not lifting the heavy ball properly.
Only when Emma puts her fingers through the holes and pulls, she overcompensates, hitting herself in the chest and crashes backwards onto the floor with the ball in her lap.
“Em?!” Alex’s voice shouts as she rushes over to Emma, still sat dazed on the floor, with Sam right behind her. “Are you okay?”
Emma nods, feeling a bit shocked and embarrassed. A blush starts colouring her cheeks as the Superfriends turn to look at her in concern.
“I’m fine. Just being clumsy.” Emma signs, trying to laugh it off and goes to get up.
“Here.” Alex grabs the bowling ball and holds it while Sam helps Emma up.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sam asks, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studies the blonde’s face.
Emma gulps but nods that she was indeed okay. “Just embarrassed for causing a scene.”
“Alright.” Sam nods as well before smiling and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Ready to be beaten Danvers?”
Emma snorts and kicks her leg up behind them to hit Sam’s butt.
“Hey!” Sam yells and does it back to Emma. The blonde lets out a heavy breath of voiceless laughter.
Alex grins and shakes her head while she places Emma’s ball on the rack by the ball return and laughs at her girlfriend. “I think Em was saying no.”
“Are we bowling as teams or individuals?” James asks as he goes to pick up his bowling ball and looks up at the screen with the names on.
On team one: Nia is Dreamgirl, Brainy is Brainakins, Kara is Glasses, Emma is Stargirl, Sam is Hotmama and Lena is Irish babe.
On team two: James is He-man, Winn is Futureboy, Eliza is Aurora, J’onn is Martitan, Alex is Director of Sass and Lucy is Army Green.
“Why not both?” Eliza offers and smiles when she sees the name she has been given. “See which lane is better but also amongst ourselves in general?”
“I like that idea.” J’onn agrees.
“Of course you would.” Alex grunts before taking a swig of her beer. Only to splutter when Emma digs her elbow into her side.
“Nia? You’re first up on our team!” Kara points at the screen and everyone cheers. Emma claps her hands loudly to make enough noise. “Go Dreamgirl!”
“And remember, no powers!” Lucy orders from the stool by the computer and picks up James’ camera to take some photos.
“Yes ma’am.” Nia nods as she grabs her ball.
“You ready Dreamgirl?” James playfully taunts Nia.
“Bring it He-Man!” Nia grins back at him while lining herself up.
They both go at the same time and the game begins. Laughter, whoops and cheers fill the room as pins crash to the floor.
Kara completely misses on her first try due to the red sun dampers.
“I can put the rails up if you want?” Lucy jokes cheekily.
“No thanks, just need to get used to it.” Kara huffs out and shakes her hands. Her second attempt was much better and Emma claps loudly for her.
Next it was Emma’s turn and she makes sure not to overcompensate this time when she picks the ball up.
“Go Emma!” Lucy cheers and the blonde gets herself into position and aims.
Emma takes a few deep breaths and steps forward, releasing the ball at the lowest point. It shoots from her hand like a cannonball and knocks down all the pins.
Emma jumps up and down in excitement and the Superfriends cheer loudly behind her.
“Well done sweetheart!” Eliza pulls her into a hug. “Just how Dad taught you.”
Emma nods and goes back to sit down. Her eyes flick to the door, wishing Lena had seen her first strike. Naturally her hand reaches for her phone. She silently sighs when there are no messages or responses from her girlfriend.
Emma: Hi Lee, guess what?! I just did a strike! Your name is on the board, so you can start playing when you get here ❤️
Emma also takes a photo of Sam about to play her shot to send to Lena. Hoping this will cause some kind of response.
But her phone doesn’t bleep, causing Emma to run a hand through her hair.
“Hey, I’m sure she’s okay.” Alex notices Emma’s concern and tries to reassure her. But also looks over at Kara, silently communicating with her. Kara nods and gets up to bowl.
“Alex?” J’onn pulls the redhead’s attention away from Emma. “It’s your turn.”
“Yea! Go Director of Ass!” Sam winks at her girlfriend, causing Alex's cheeks to blush.
It soon gets to Lena’s name and everyone allows Nia to take Lena’s go and do her own.
They play seven more frames and when it gets to Lena’s name again everyone pauses.
“Kara? Do you wanna have another go instead?” Nia asks, trying not to show her disappointment.
“Er, sure! But please excuse me, I’m going to use the bathroom.” Kara squeezes out of the booth and rushes to the door leading to the restrooms.
Emma doesn't think anything of it until the door opens again and Emma turns her head to see a wind swept Lena walking in front of Kara. Emma's eyes move up and down her girlfriend’s body and takes in Lena’s fitted maroon coloured dress with black high heels.
Their eyes connect and they both feel a rush of giddiness.
“Finally!” Sam shouts as she places her hands on her hips, cutting off their moment as Lena’s eyes snap to her best friend. Causing everyone else to look over to where Sam was looking.
“Lena!” Nia squeals and rushes over to the raven haired beauty.
“Sorry Nia.” Lena apologises while they hug.
“Don’t worry about it. Contracts blurgh!” Nia gags and giggles.
“Exactly!” Lena laughs and follows Nia into the booth. She immediately sits next to Emma and kisses her lips. “Sorry I wasn't there when you woke up love.”
Emma shrugs and flattens parts of Lena’s hair that's still a bit messy from her flight over, making her girlfriend laugh.
“Thanks!” Lena chuckles and looks up at the names on the scoreboard. “I’m guessing your Stargirl?” Emma nods proudly. “Wow love. You’ve got a strike on almost every go?”
“I know?! I don’t know how.” Emma signs happily. “I even managed with a heavier ball!” Although for Emma it didn’t feel much heavier, even though it was meant to be six pounds heavier.
“Well your arms are getting more toned.” Lena nudges her shoulder into Emma’s. She had noticed Emma’s body changing and put it down to the running and weight training Emma is doing to fill her time.
A familiar twinge of regret hits Lena’s stomach at how busy she has been lately. ‘It won’t be forever.’ Lena thinks, trying to reassure herself.
Lena breaks her out of her thoughts by Emma flexing her arm and raising an eyebrow at Lena, causing a rich laugh to burst out from the raven haired beauty’s lips.
This heavenly sound makes Emma’s heart flutter and she beams sweetly at the woman she loves.
“Lena? It’s your go. Unless you want me to take it for you?” Kara asks and points at the scoreboard.
“Oh sorry!” Lena apologises and looks up at the board. “Who chose Irish Babe?” She laughs as Kara and Nia point at each other. “Right, I better get my ball and shoes.” Lena places her hand on Emma’s thigh and goes to stand up, but Emma takes her hand, stopping her from moving.
“I got them for you.” Emma pulls them up from under the bench and hands the shoes to Lena. “Also I got you a size eight ball but there is also a nine if you’d rather use that one.”
“Thanks love.” Lena places a gentle kiss on Emma’s lips. After she immediately kicks her heels off and goes to put her shoes on. Suddenly a pair of neon lime green socks appear in front of her face. “You think these socks go with this outfit?” Lena questions Emma who pouts out her lips and nods.
“I mean the shoes go exquisitely as well!” Emma signs, making Lena chuckle and puts them on anyway. Everyone wolf whistles when she gets up to bowl making Lena break out in a huge smile.
“Looking mighty fine there Luthor!” Sam hollers in a southern accent, causing everyone to burst out laughing and Lena to stare back at Sam in a mock glare.
Lena bowls and manages to get a spare. Emma claps enthusiastically when the last pin tumbles to the ground.
Lena smiles as she heads back into the booth, giving everyone high fives. Sitting down she snuggles into Emma, who wraps an arm around her waist and they watch the Superfriends bowl. Lena cheers along with everyone and takes a few deep breaths. Ridding herself of her work anxiety that had no place in the bowling alley.
They play a few more games before having a break to eat.
“Finally!” Kara yells dramatically and zooms over to the table. Emma is sure that if the sun red dampers weren’t on, Kara would have flown over.
“Kara!” Both Alex and Eliza yell in disapproval at Kara running to get the food.
“Sorry! I’m just hungry!” Kara whines while piling the food on her plate.
“Hey! Leave some for us Kara!” Winn calls across to her, making Kara squint her eyes at him.
The Superfriends get their food and sit together at a table set out for them and eat. Laughing and chatting about anything and everything. James takes a few photos before Lucy takes the camera off him to give him a chance to eat.
“Hey Lena! Em!” Lucy positions herself across from the couple and aims the camera.
The girlfriends smile widely at her and wrap an arm around each other's waist.
“Beautiful!” Lucy comments and keeps taking pictures as Lena kisses Emma’s cheek and the blonde beams at the camera. Emma turns her head and softly kisses Lena’s lips.
“Hey hey! Keep it under the R rating please!” Lucy says seriously and Emma flips her off.
A few of the Superfriends laugh and Emma smirks at Lena before pressing their foreheads together. They both close their eyes and breath deeply in.
Soon mostly everyone has finished eating and Brainy stands.
“Shall we play some more games?” Brainy asks, looking around at his friends.
“Yes please!” Nia squeals and runs back to the booth. Everyone follows other than Winn and James.
Emma and Lena sit close together and Emma goes to take a sip from her cup.
Suddenly the lights go off, causing Emma to violently jump, spilling her drink down her top.
“Happy-” Winn starts singing and everyone else joins in as he brings the cake over with lit candles. “Birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Nia! Happy birthday to you!”
Emma tries to smile as everyone sings, instead she lets out a long, heavy breath. She jumps again as Lena places a comforting hand on her thigh.
“Sorry love.” Lena whispers into her ear as the lights come back on.
“Emma! What happened to you?!” James laughs as he notices Emma’s wet, brown t-shirt.
Emma shrugs and looks down embarrassed. Missing the glares some of the Superfriends send to James. Lena grabs some napkins and tries to dry the worst of it.
“Who wants some yummy cake!” Lucy claps to draw the attention away from the blonde and goes to get the knife.
“Oo me!” Kara raises a hand and bounces in her seat like a nine year old kid.
“I’m sure the question was rhetorical Kar.” Alex snorts in amusement.
“Yea, but I want cake.” Kara shrugs with a grin.
Emma tries to smile as well but she finds herself rocking slightly as she tries to calm her racing heart.
“You’re okay.” Lena's calming voice whispers into her ear. “You’re safe. You’re with me and people who love you. Nothing bad is going to happen.”
Emma nods, resting her head on Lena’s shoulder and nuzzles into her neck. Trying to seek comfort and feel safe.
If the Superfriends notice they don’t say anything about it or draw attention to Emma, leaving Lena to help Emma though her trigger as they share the cake around.
When Emma sits back up, looking less pale, Nia hands their plates with pieces of cake over.
“Thank you.” Emma signs gratefully and digs in, trying not to focus on her embarrassment at what happened.
Once the food is eaten and cleared away the bowling begins again. Although the group of friends are not as quick as before but still as competitive.
“Seriously Emma!” Lucy yells when Emma does another perfect strike. “You need to show me your technique or something.”
Emma holds her hands up in surprise and just motions her bowling.
“Nah I’m not fooling around anymore with this ‘I can’t bowl’ act!”
Emma can’t help but voicelessly laugh at Lucy’s competitive side making itself known.
“Ooo, she’s laughing at you Luc.” Alex grins at her sister.
Emma holds her hands up again in surrender at Lucy’s enraged face.
“Hey relax.” Kara tries to soothe the brunette down and rubs her back affectionately. “It’s all about the fun of playing.”
A few nod but suddenly everyone bursts out laughing and continues for a while. The Superfriends never play just for the fun of it. Mostly everyone in the group are extremely competitive.
“Good one Kara!” Winn wipes the tears from his cheeks.
-- -- --
Finally they complete their last game and Emma is the clear winner. Although she is still very confused at how she managed it but takes the praise.
The food and cake is distributed into takeaway boxes and the Superfriends say their goodbyes and birthday love to Nia. With Emma and Lena being the first to leave.
“Do you need a ride?” Emma signs to Alex.
“No, Sam is- I’m, er, going with Sam.” Alex stutters and goes a bit red as she smiles shyly. Causing Emma to smirk and shake her head.
“Yea, my director of ass.” Sam whispers into her girlfriend's ear.
This makes Emma snort and sign at her sister. “Use protection.” Emma winks.
“Protection? Protection from what?” Kara asks after watching Emma’s hands.
Emma snorts loudly again but Lena drags her away before she can hear anyone's responses.
“Modifier.” Lena yawns before they go through the door and waves farewell to everyone. Emma taps her temple, shivering slightly as the mask crawls across her face.
The couple walk down the stairs hand in hand and out into the evening air. Emma leads her girlfriend to the L-Car and opens the passenger door for her.
“Thanks love.” Somehow, despite her exhaustion, Lena still slides gracefully into the car, even with her drooping eyelids.
Emma gets into the driver's seat and leans over to plug her girlfriend in. A hum of acknowledgement leaves Lena’s lips and her eyes finally close.
Emma can’t help but smile at how cute she looks and turns the electric engine on to head for home.
-- -- --
In no time at all they are pulling into their space under the apartment building. Lena looks like she’s already in a deep sleep and Emma wonders if she can carry her up to their apartment.
Remembering how easy it was to piggyback Alex, Emma decides to go for it. She quietly unplugs Lena’s seatbelt and gets out of the driver's side. Emma quickly goes to Lena’s side and carefully opens the passenger door, hoping Lena wouldn’t fall out, but thankfully she hasn’t moved.
Leaning down Emma attentively runs her right arm under Lena’s legs and her left under her back. She manages to lift Lena and the bag of food, carrying her girlfriend bridal style out of the car. Carefully she heads for the elevator, thankfully that the L-Car locks automatically when the keyholder walks far enough away from the car.
Somehow she manages to press the button to call the elevator and again for the penthouse apartment.
‘Nice one Emma!’ She praises herself and kisses Lena’s head when the doors close.
However, once the elevator doors slide open, Emma voicelessly groans. She exits the elevator, debating what to do to unlock the door and open it.
“You know you could just put me down?” Lena says sleepily as she blinks her eyes open.
‘Of course you're awake!’ Emma rolls her eyes and gazes down at her girlfriend.
“Well?” Lena asks with a yawn, waiting to be put down.
“Get my key.” Emma mouths, causing Lena to squint up at her.
“Get your key?” Lena says back and Emma nods. “Where is it?”
“Bag.”
Lena reacts down to Emma’s messenger bag by her side.
“You know this would be a lot quicker if you just put me down.”
Emma shrugs and grins happily, liking the sensation of holding Lena close.
“Got it!” Lena pulls it out and stretches for the lock. Emma moves a bit forward to make it easier for her. “Thanks love.” Lena yawns out again and unlocks the door, partly opening it.
Emma kicks it open fully and manages to step through before it swings back.
“Impressive.” Lena chuckles while nuzzling into Emma’s chest and closing her eyes.
Emma lets out a voiceless laugh and carries Lena into the bathroom.
“No, just dump me on the bed!” Lena whines but doesn’t complain when Emma places her feet on the tiled floor and pulls her dress up and underwear down. “Ooo kinky.” Lena says seductively while cracking an eye open as Emma guides her onto the toilet.
Emma shakes her head with a smile at Lena’s comment and goes to grab Lena’s pajamas and a fresh pair of underwear.
She hears the flush and Lena whining out her name.
“Em-ma!”
‘Le-na!’ Emma yells back in her head but she quickly makes her way back to her girlfriend, who was sleepily brushing her teeth.
Emma closes the lid on the toilet and places Lena’s clothes on top, Lena watches her every move and as Emma begins to sign. “We are staying in bed tomorrow. No excuses!”
Lena clears her mouth and places her toothbrush back on the counter. “Bed all day? Lucky me.” Lena says sultry and lifts an eyebrow.
Emma rolls her eyes. “Not like that you bad girl.”
“Hmm but you’d want me to be your bad girl huh?” Lena slowly tilts her head and leans in, kissing Emma’s lips slowly and passionately. Emma could taste the fresh mint of the toothpaste on Lena’s tongue.
But Lena soon breaks the kiss, closes her bloodshot eyes and rests her weary head on Emma’s shoulder.
Emma carefully bends down and grabs the clothes so she can place Lena back on the toilet lid. She lovingly changes Lena’s clothes and kisses any exposed skin that she comes across, making Lena hum and smile.
Once Lena is changed Emma reaches down and picks her up again. Attentively carrying her over to their bed. Next she pulls the covers back and carefully places Lena on the bed and tucks her in.
Lena hums sleepily in approval but doesn’t open her eyes or makes any other movement or noise. Seemingly falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.
Emma smiles down at her sadly and kisses her forehead.
“Hope, dim the lights to the lowest setting.” Emma signs to the AI before reentering the bathroom to get herself ready for bed.
After she’s brushed her teeth and hair, dressed in her tank top and shorts, Emma quietly tiptoes back into the bedroom. The corner of her lip pulls up when she can hear Lena softly snoring.
When she reaches her side of the bed Emma carefully pulls the covers back and slowly gets into bed. Trying desperately not to jostle Lena.
“Hope, lights out.” Emma signs once she’s settled.
The lights slowly fade and the window dim to blackout.
Emma swallows as she turns towards Lena, listening to her steady breaths as she sleeps. Almost becoming Emma’s lullaby when her own eyes slowly grow heavy and close.
(Part Thirty Three)
#supergirl#supergirl tv#supergirl imagine#supergirl fanfiction#supergirl fanfic#supergirl baby danvers#lena luthor#lena luthor imagine#lena luthor x baby danvers#alex danvers#alex danvers x sam arias#alex danvers imagine#alex danvers x baby danvers#kara danvers x baby danvers#kara danvers imagine#kara danvers#b!d
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
Impersonal, Ch. 7
Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, Rated E
The game had ended and he wasn’t surprised.
He expected this. He prepared himself all day Saturday by running six miles, jacking off twice, and mopping his entire apartment. He didn’t even own a mop; he actually went out and bought one. By the time Sunday morning rolled around he was ready for the inevitable collapse of their precarious sexual arrangement and greeted Scully with aplomb.
And then she paid for breakfast.
That was unexpected. When the FBI wasn’t footing the bill, they usually split the tab, or threw a “you can get the next one” down on the table alongside crumpled bills.
He had been joking about it being a date, but then she paid. And it meant something. Her big blue eyes pinned him to the booth, had him trapped and squirming like an insect on a card as she laid a hand over the check. “I’ve got it,” she said, and his senses were suddenly ignited. He could feel thick sunshine pouring over them, lighting up Scully’s hair like a smudge of cinnamon. Her lips looked so sweet and soft, and the very idea that he might never feel them again stole his breath. He felt dry and empty, a desiccated housefly body lying on a windowsill.
He thanked her for breakfast, and his throat was lined with dust.
Their parting was weird. Hinting that he was still available to her was an insane risk, and she turned it into a joke about Frohike. Unless she actually thought he was the one joking about Frohike, which he has to admit wouldn’t be out of character for him.
He’s tired of joking, tired of hiding, tired of dancing around his intentions. Tired of wanting and not asking, tired of being in his own damn way.
Scully has given him a graceful exit, a neatly drawn map back to their pre-sex starting point. And not for the first time, Mulder wads up the map and tosses it aside. Scully made her move; it was time for him do the same.
What that move would be, he has no idea.
It takes him eleven days. No wonder Scully took matters into her own hands the first time around. Inspiration strikes him during his drive from Alexandria to D.C. the next Thursday morning, when he crosses the Potomac and gets a glimpse of faraway blossoms.
He waits until 4:47 that afternoon to say anything.
“Hey Scully, you doing anything tonight?” he asks, rifling through a stack of papers as though he’s attending to FBI business and not trying to work up courage like a schoolboy.
Her glossy red head is bent over a file, pen at her lip. “Besides folding an obscenely large pile of laundry, my schedule seems fairly empty,” she replies. She looks up at him suspiciously. “Why, Mulder?”
“No reason, really. There’s just something I wanted to show you, get your opinion on.”
“Is it related to a case?”
He opens a desk drawer, pretending to look for something. “Well it could be a totally natural phenomenon, but who can say for certain without proper investigation?”
Scully sighs. “Fine, I’ll bite. And speaking of bites, I’m starving. If we’re going to work off the clock, can we at least eat?”
“Wanna stop for Chinese? We can take it with us. We’re not going far, the food should still be hot when we get to our secondary location.”
They take Mulder’s car, picking up several cartons of food from a restaurant in Chinatown a few blocks up from the Hoover building before making their way towards the National Mall. Mulder parks in the lot near the Washington Monument.
“You weren’t kidding when you said we weren’t going far,” Scully says, gathering up the bag of takeout. “What exactly are we looking for?”
“That,” he replies, pointing ahead.
Hundreds of cherry trees line the Tidal Basin, their leaves almost entirely obscured by tufts of blossoms. Scully steps onto the path, open-mouthed.
“Oh my god,” she murmurs.
Mulder shoves his hands in his pockets. “Pretty fantastic, huh?”
“Mulder,” she says in awe, looking sideways at him, “What are we doing here?”
He shrugs. “I just wanted to see them.”
“At night?”
“Daylight’s for tourists, Scully.”
———
They’re sitting on the damp grass, endeavoring to split the last egg roll using only their dueling pairs of chopsticks.
“This is impossible, Scully. I’m going to use my hands.”
“Then I definitely don’t want the other half,” she says.
“Are you implying something about my hygiene?”
“I’ve seen some of the places your hands have been, Mulder.”
He wiggles his eyebrows at her, and she rolls her eyes.
“Not what I meant,” she says softly. “But the point still stands.”
Mulder lays back on the lawn, his long coat fanning wide. Scully pulls an edge of it towards her, scoots closer so she can rest her pantyhose-clad calves on it instead of the grass.
“I’ve always preferred the blossoms at night,” he says. “There’s something ghostly about them, all pink and white against the dark sky. Not an ominous kind of ghostly, however; if good spirits exist, I think they’d look like these trees. You know most early European religions feature some sort of reverence for trees or forests, whether as spiritual gathering places or deities themselves-“
“Mulder.”
“Hm?”
“Are you going to eat that egg roll, or can I have it?”
He passes her the carton. “And-”
“Why did you bring me here, Mulder?”
He glances at her and is surprised to see a tenderness in her eyes. His gaze returns to the branches above.
“I just figured I owe you a nice trip to a forest, and this one won’t require any paperwork.”
Scully smiles. “That’s a very considerate choice, Mulder, especially since I’m always the one doing said paperwork.”
“You’re more succinct and readable than I am, apparently. And Skinner clearly likes you better.”
“Didn’t you punch him in the face once?”
“That’s beside the point. I think he has a bit of a crush on you, Scully.”
She rolls her eyes. “What?” Mulder asks.
“I just… it’s nothing, It’s been a long day. And it’s cold out here.”
Mulder sits up and withdraws his arms from the sleeves of his overcoat.
“No- Mulder, don’t, I’m fine.”
“Move your legs,” he instructs, pulling the edge of the coat out from under her. He stands and drapes it around her shoulders before plopping back down on the grass next to her.
“Thanks,” she says. “Still, it’s getting late.”
He glances at his watch. “It’s seven-thirty on a Thursday. You got somewhere to be?” His arm bumps her shoulder companionably. “Come on, just a little longer. Maybe we’ll see something unidentified in the sky.”
He grins at her and the corner of her mouth twitches in reply. “Well, I guess I don’t have a choice,” she sighs. “You drove us here.”
He feels a slight increase of pressure against his arm and realizes that Scully is ever so slightly leaning into him. A gentle warmth glows in his belly, and he glances sidelong at her.
I’m a lucky son of a bitch, he thinks.
“How so?” Scully asks.
Oh. He said it out loud. He clears his throat, tries to steer his thoughts back into safer waters.
“Well, for one thing, I’m not dead,” he says. “Not for lack of trying.”
Scully nods solemnly.
“I’ve seen incredible things, things people spend their whole lives looking for, hoping for, believing in. I’ve tasted proof, held the truth in my hands. And in spite of everything, I’m still here. We’re still here. That’s pretty goddamn lucky.”
“I don’t feel very lucky,” Scully says softly. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve fucked up every good thing I’ve ever had a chance at. My father certainly thought so, at least for a long time.”
They sit silently for a moment. “Without you, I’d be long dead,” Mulder admits.
“I know,” Scully replies. “I’m always awed by your resilience, actually. I can’t take all the credit for your continued survival.”
“Yeah, you can,” he says, getting to his feet and dusting stray blades of grass off his slacks. He holds out a hand and helps her to her feet. Her fingers are cool against his palm, and he wonders if she’d notice if he didn’t let go. Probably.
He wants to pull her in by the lapels of his coat, gather her to his chest, hold her for no reason other than he can. Kiss her brow, smell her hair, feel her small hands sliding under his suit jacket. He wants her just as she is, for exactly who she is.
But he’s a chickenshit, so instead he just walks beside her along the Tidal Basin, under the cherry blossoms, and doesn’t hold her hand.
They spend the five minute drive back to the Bureau in comfortable silence. Scully leans her head against the car window, and Mulder briefly wonders if she’ll fall asleep. He loves when she nods off while he’s driving; it makes him feel safe. She makes him feel safe.
He parks a few spots away from her car in the Bureau parking garage, turns off the engine. Scully gathers up her briefcase, leaving Mulder’s coat draped open on the passenger seat.
“Why are you getting out?” she asks, seeing Mulder unbuckling his seatbelt.
“I need a file from the office,” he lies. He exits the car and goes around to her side. “I’ll walk you to your door, it’s on my way.”
It’s twenty feet from her car to his. “Thank you, Mulder,” Scully says sardonically, fishing her keys out of her coat pocket. “If I weren’t armed, that would have been very thoughtful of you.”
“Don’t mention it,” he replies. He takes a step forward.
“What are you doing?” Scully asks, one hand on her car door, keys in the other.
“Nothing,” he replies quickly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” God, she’s so small, this could so easily go wrong-
He pitches forward, bending down, and presses his lips to the fullness of her cheek. His nose brushes the soft skin under her eye and he inhales sharply, drawing back.
They blink at each other. “Bye,” Mulder offers.
Scully nods. “Yes. Goodnight.” She glances to the elevators. “Was there actually a file you needed?”
He just looks at her, and she presses her lips together in understanding. “Right. Well, I’m leaving, so… see you tomorrow then.”
Right. Despite recent events, the earth was still spinning.
Later, when he hangs his overcoat, he notices the faintest scent of her shampoo on the collar.
#awwwwwwwww they're so awkward and dumb#impersonal#my fic#txf fic#xfiles#msr#slow burn#also pls listen to 'Agape' by Nicolas Britell while reading this chapter it's the Vibe
87 notes
·
View notes
Text
Snowstorm | MYG
~summary:
Strange things happen in the woods when you return home for Christmas. And why does your mum insist you stay away from Min Yoongi?
Yoongi x female reader
~word count: 6k
~magic au, jack frost au, childhood friend au, angst, fluff
Rating: pg
Warnings: overbearing parent, rumours and gossip, swearing, storms and bad weather
~a/n: this is a repost, I put this up this morning but for some reaason it hasn’t shown up in the tags so I am trying again. ~original a/n: got this one out just in time... this is my fic for November keyword ‘magic’ for @thebtswritersclub!! This started from the bingo square ‘jack frost’, one I wasn’t sure whether to write, but it was perfect for a magic au, so I hope you enjoy it! Keep a lookout for more festive fics from me over December,, I’ve just realised quite how many fics I have to find time to write among my end of term essays yAy
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/415f1dd67bf533fabfd297fb7ffaef1f/50489743277ed4f7-3c/s540x810/991e229f809a88f899f976aa4aee2954d02c92a7.jpg)
They’re cutting the trees down in the forest.
It’s not as young as it once was, but neither are you. You come back to it every year, these woods. Someone needs to look after it. Not like you do that, but at least taking the time to come back and see it makes you feel a little better.
Maybe you aren’t looking after it, but at least you’re looking.
Being home from college is… fun. Mostly.
You love your family, but you sure as hell love these woods too, for when you’ve had enough. There’s one tree that forks into two, right at the heart, that you cried under countless times throughout your childhood.
Now it’s more for nostalgia. Coming home for the long college holidays, you’ve grown up and your family let you do your thing, so you don’t generally have a need to sob your heart out in the wilderness anymore.
Wow, this is making your childhood sound really bad. It wasn’t.
But whenever it was, the woods were there.
Winter is making itself felt now, air slowly numbing your face and fingers. You trail them across the bark of a tree you pass before digging them reluctantly into your coat pockets.
This tree doesn’t look too healthy. Though it still felt normal, the bark is thinning. You wonder if it will live to see new leaves in the spring.
Overhead, the dappled grey sky bears a heavier shadow. You should probably be getting back soon. Making your way, without hurrying, towards the edge of the trees, you trod over their forgotten leaves as they faded into the ground.
Soon the soft carpet of the forest petered out and you found yourself on the familiar roads that led back to your house.
No one else really seemed to be about apart from you. Except for whoever that was that just came around the corner. Hold on-
Is Min Yoongi back here? Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod-
Sucking in a deep breath, you did your utmost to avoid staring at him, eyes trailing along the ground instead. As you drew closer to each other, your grew heartbeat louder in your ears.
Now that wasn’t fair. You were meant to be over this.
But of course that was never the case.
Min Yoongi had grown up here too, a boisterous child that grew into a reserved teenager. What he was doing with himself now, you had no idea, but what was important is that he was here right now. Because maybe the monster crush you harboured for him had never really gone away.
In school, you two had been friends. Not the closest, but you would hang out together, always too shy to really talk. Now the course of life had taken you two apart; you weren’t sure you had spoken to him since you were sixteen.
Okay, he was only steps away now. You had to stay calm.
Act natural. Pretend you haven’t seen him.
Wait, no. That would be impossible. There’s only the two of you on this road, how could you not notice him?
You didn’t want to come off as rude if you ignored him.
In your panic, you looked up to find his eyes trained on you already. While your brain was busy short-circuiting, you settled for a small smile and a quick wave.
For one mortifying moment, you thought he didn’t recognise you at all. His eyebrows remained slightly creased, but just as you were nearly past him, his eyes widened.
“Y/N!”
The wide smile that had taken over his face retreated into a small, shy one as you stopped.
“Hey, Yoongi,” you smiled back.
“What are you up to?” he asked, glancing briefly to the end of the road you had just come from. Towards the forest.
“Just out for a walk,” you explained, “getting away from my family for a bit.”
“I can understand that,” he laughed quietly, scratching absently behind one ear.
“I didn’t realise you were back here,” you prompted after he trailed off, “it’s good to see you again.”
“Yeah, and you,” he nodded, “it’s strange being back sometimes, but it’s good you’re here too.”
Despite the cold, your felt heat in your cheeks. What did he just say?
“I-I mean,�� he stuttered, “like, it’s weird, when things are different than you remember them , and so it’s nice when you see someone familiar… yeah.”
“Yeah, yeah, I totally get you,” you swallowed, laughing nervously, “like the forest, it’s not the same anymore-“
“Not the same,” he grimaced, then froze, realising you spoke in unison.
Wide eyed, laughter bubbled from both of you
“Are you going there now?” you asked, “it’s a bit cold isn’t it?”
As the two of you had stood talking, the light had steadily drained from the sky.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” he smirked.
Surprised by his sudden confidence, you just smiled.
“Okay, if you’re sure. I should probably be getting home, though.”
“Sure,” he nodded quickly.
“See you.”
Glancing at the inky sky, you turned to leave, hands delving deeper into the warmth of your coat pockets, when Yoongi cleared his throat behind you.
“Um…”
Now a few steps away from him, you looked over your shoulder.
“We should catch up some time. Properly. If-if you’d like.”
“Yeah, sure,” you smiled widely.
“Nice. I’ll, um, see you soon.”
He gave you a wave, smile dancing on his lips. The moment you turned away, you bit your lip, trying to contain your grin. Practically bouncing your way home, your cheeks were burning by the time you reached your front door.
Stiff fingers fiddling with the key, at last you let yourself in.
No doubt hearing you stomping your shoes on the doormat, your mum came around the corner.
“You were gone a while,” she observed.
“Yeah, bumped into Yoongi on the way back,” you begrudgingly explained.
“Min Yoongi?”
“Mmhmm.”
“I remember when you used to have a silly crush on that boy!” she laughed. Kicking your shoes off, you rolled your eyes but followed her through to the kitchen.
“His family’s always been very strange though,” she continued, “they don’t really talk to anyone. Half the time I don’t even know if there’s anyone at home.”
“You’re spying on their house now?” you joked.
“Well, when they’re shut in all summer, you can’t help wondering,” she defended, “very strange, the lot of them… you would do well to stay away from them, Y/N.”
“But-“
“You’re not even friends with him, why should it be an issue?”
“You’re right,” you sighed.
It was easier to let it slide.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/c063f684c2c7190d183cc6f4bce8b3bd/50489743277ed4f7-d4/s500x750/1810e8dcbcf976e188d53a24a4ff70397521d48b.jpg)
They’re cutting the trees down in the forest.
Walking between the ones that still stand, Yoongi’s mind is still full of you. At least someone else still saw this place. Still cared.
And truth be told, he still cared about you. A chance to see the forest and a chance to speak to you were what kept bringing him back. It would be easy to find another forest somewhere, some wide open space, wilder than this.
But there was a soft spot in his heart for his hometown.
Raising a hand above his head, he sent the last few leaves clinging to a branch spiralling down to the floor on a gust of wind. As he lowered his arm, he let his fingers trail across the bark, leaving frost in their wake.
It was hard, having to hide. His mother told him he couldn’t get close to anyone here. Anyone that didn’t know.
Even playing with you as five-year-olds had been crossing the line, apparently.
On the ground, the leaves cleared from his path. The wind blew colder, skeletal branches rattling together as clouds knitted closer together above.
At the heart of the forest, there was a tree whose trunk forked into two. Climbing nimbly up into the gap, he settled himself and planted his palms against the bark.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/e114f919d0c8fb6fb0b2e1acc5e3c6c9/50489743277ed4f7-fc/s500x750/b697ba6e1f31f2f46bc53d74c634427ec8a219bd.jpg)
“Y/N, go and fetch the bin. It’s frosty again.”
Without questioning, you did as your mother said. She was right about the frost. Unlike her, though, you adored it. Just outside your doorstep, you stopped to stare at the thin coating of white that covered the street.
Every house, every garden, every car was painted with the delicate brush strokes of winter.
Once you had tugged the bin up the drive, you found your mother still talking inside.
“Thanks, love,” she smiled, placing a bowl in front of you, “gosh, I can’t wait for summer again. I can’t stand it’s so cold all the time.”
Instead of voicing your disagreement, you hummed noncommittally as you poured yourself some cereal.
Maybe you would go back to the forest later. It was all you daydreamed about as you munched on your breakfast before retreating to your room.
Until someone knocked on the door.
What you hadn’t seen was the fist hovering over wood, raising and lowering countless times before it finally sounded through your house. Frowning, you stood from your bed and peeked around your window frame.
Min Yoongi was standing in front of your house.
Min Yoongi was standing in front of your house.
The distinct sound of the door swinging open downstairs snapped you from your reverie, frozen on the spot. Shutting your gaping mouth, you looked around, panicked. Your mother was speaking.
You crossed your room in no less than two strides, throwing the door open and speeding down the stairs.
“What brings you here?” your mum was saying as you dashed up behind her.
“Hi Yoongi!” you exclaimed, panting slightly, “thanks mum.”
But of course she couldn’t take the hint. As you waited with bated breath for her to leave the two of you alone, she just looked slowly between you instead.
“You’re here to see my daughter?”
Yoongi swallowed hard under her stare.
“Yes, he is, mum,” you spoke, tone strained.
Really, sometimes it was like you never left. You felt like you had been transported straight back to your school years, asking your mum for permission to go out.
“And we’re going out,” you said firmly when greeted with silence.
Grabbing your coat, you slipped past her.
“Strange to see him out,” she muttered.
Praying Yoongi didn’t hear her sly comment, you hastily shut the door.
“Sorry,” you grimaced, “where do you fancy?”
“Let’s go for a walk.”
Following his lead, you fell into step, heading away from your house.
“I see why you prefer the trees for company.”
Now that startled a laugh out of you. Clamping a hand over your mouth, you stared at Yoongi walking beside you. He didn’t seem fazed, suddenly confident again beside you, hands buried in his hoodie as he kicked his feet walking along.
Lost quickly in conversation, you walked together until you found him leading you towards a small café.
“Drink?” he asked.
“Um, yeah, hot chocolate?” you answered timidly.
Smiling, he disappeared inside and reappeared very soon with two steaming takeaway cups.
“Thanks,” you breathed, taking one warm cup from his fingers and cradling it between your own.
“Didn’t want you to get cold.”
And it certainly did help. Of course you next walked down towards the woods, without a word passing between you about your destination. With the warmth flowing through you, you were perfectly content to keep going through the chilly air as you ditched the cups in a bin.
“Do you remember when Tae got stuck in that tree?” Yoongi commented.
Looking to where he gestured, you laughed.
“It was that one?”
“Yep, it’s still got that branch snapped off,” he pointed.
“Oh, yeah,” you giggled, “that feels so long ago now, doesn’t it?”
Sighing, he took another sip.
“Yeah. It does.”
Silence settled for a short moment, only your muffled steps sounding in the woods.
“Do you know if the others ever come back here?” you wondered aloud.
“Haven’t seen any of them,” he shrugged.
Way back when, there was a huge group at school, which was how you grew connected to Yoongi. There was still a group chat buried somewhere in your phone, but you hadn’t heard from most of them in a long time.
“It’s just us then,” you mused.
“I guess it is,” Yoongi said, a large smile spreading onto his face.
Then he halted, stooping down to the floor. Beside him, you watched him in confusion.
Until he sprung up, a handful of fallen leaves suddenly finding their way into your face.
“Yah!” you shrieked, throwing your hands up too late.
As the last one fell from your spluttering face, you found the shape of Yoongi several trees away, running. Mouth falling open, you instantly gave chase, quickly reaching down for a bundle of your own leaves.
“Min Yoongi!” you yelled, a reply reaching you in the form of his breathless laughter.
Pushing yourself on, your feet pounded towards him. He slowed, going over a slope, giving you opportunity enough to catch up, launching the leaves at his back.
“Argh!” he laughed, arms flapping from beneath the flurry of leaves.
But you couldn’t revel in your revenge for long, as another faceful of leaves was booted towards you. You only caught a glimpse of his gummy smile for a moment before he saw your glare and bolted again.
A gust of wind hindered you pursuit, throwing more soggy leaves at you.
Up ahead, Yoongi was scrambling up a tree. Just as you reached it, he seated himself on a branch, out of your reach. Breathless with laughter, you still tried, flinging leaves up in the air towards him.
They barely reached his feet, swinging above you, instead floating for a pathetic moment before falling right back on top of you.
Shaking them from your head, you heard Yoongi’s loud laughter above you.
Looking up, you were met with an enormous gummy smile as he slipped back down the tree, dropping deftly onto the ground, shoulders still shaking with laughter.
“Sorry,” he panted.
He reached a hand out towards you then. Frozen in surprise, you watched as his thumb met your nose, quickly swiping across it. Cold lingered there as his hand came away, a slight smudge of mud wiped on it.
Self consciously rubbing your nose yourself, you let out a chuckle, a shiver passing through you only a moment later.
“Shit, are you cold?” his smile faltered.
“It’s okay,” you assured, “we’ve just been running about. I’m fine.”
“Okay,” he frowned slightly.
Turning away a little, he shoved his hands into his pockets.
Going with him, you two headed across the woods to the other edge, where you could look over your town as it fell away into countryside. The sky was striped with clouds, yellowish light dimming behind them.
This felt good.
You’ve always liked this forest, hated sharing it with anyone else. But you didn’t mind with Yoongi. After so long, it was odd how quickly you felt comfortable. How fast your feelings resurfaced.
And you couldn’t help wondering…
“Hey, Yoongi?”
“Hmm?”
“Was this… meant to mean anything?”
“What do you mean?” he turned towards you.
You swallowed. Fuck. You might have just shoved your foot in it.
“Er, well, I mean, like, a date or something?” you spoke nervously.
The moment his eyebrows raised, you were certain you had made a mistake.
“Well, no…”
Oh shit.
“But it can be.”
You blinked.
“Say that again?”
“It can be,” he chuckled, warm smile making another appearance.
“Sorry, I wasn’t sure I heard you right,” you said, stunned, turning back to the view. Then you glanced back at him. “So you wouldn’t be opposed to a date?”
“Nope,” he shook his head.
“With me?”
A chuckle responded. “Yes, Y/N. With you.”
In the corner of your eye, a flicker of movement. But then it stopped. Looking around, you saw Yoongi return his hand to his pocket, casting his eyes down.
By the time you were both approaching your driveway again, it was forgotten. You were practically glowing.
Until you saw the figure of your mother in the front window.
The moment she laid eyes on you, she was gone from the window and appeared in the doorway instead.
“Shit, sorry,” you muttered, sharing a glance with Yoongi, “this has been really fun…”
Getting the message, he sent you a smile that squeezed his eyes.
Then he slowed beside you and you carried on, pulling away with a smile of your own.
As you drew closer, your mum stepped out and down the steps.
“Are you alright? Where did you go?” she asked straight away.
She really was worried about this, huh?
“Mum, it’s fine,” you frowned, unable to help the look over your shoulder, “we just went for a walk, what’s the problem?”
If this was her reaction to you spending time with the guy platonically, you thought it safer to leave out the other details for now.
“I told you, something’s not right with him,” she hissed, clearly trying to keep a low voice. Not that she was successful.
“Come on, let’s go inside,” you urged.
Glancing back just before you closed the door, you saw Yoongi turning away. You longed to reach for him, call out to him…
The door clicked shut.
In front of you, your mother stood with folded arms.
“What’s going on?” you asked.
“I don’t know about him, Y/N,” she shook her head, “since he was a child, he’s always been… different.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, whenever there was an accident on the playground, he always seemed to be around. All of us parents knew, it’s why I told you to be careful with him.”
Your eyebrows furrowed. Vaguely, you recalled her saying something like that, but you must have been very small. Either way, perhaps you did stray away from him on the playground.
“No one ever knew for sure, but there were rumours,” she sighed, rubbing her forehead, “maybe he was just troublesome and liked pushing other kids over, but then his family… they never tried to fit in here.”
“And the town gossip has you this worried?” you asked, incredulous.
“I was pleased you were staying away from him in school,” she glared at you, “so where’s this come from? I hoped that silly crush was over.”
“If I was in trouble I would tell you, and you know that,” you stepped forwards, “but I can be with whoever I like! I’m not in school anymore, and Yoongi’s a grown adult too.”
Her eyebrows shot upwards.
“So you’re with him now?”
“…maybe, but what does it matter? It’s what I want to do, mum, I’ll be fine.”
Met with your pleading eyes, she merely glared back, arms tightly folded. She exhaled steadily through her nose.
“Just come and have dinner.”
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/d76474fe8c8507a029db41c6f9df5661/50489743277ed4f7-0a/s540x810/85496152823d3d7fa9b89e124e4e86f2ad4c8183.jpg)
It started snowing.
You knew your mum wouldn’t want you to go outside in that. But maybe that made it all the more appealing.
She wasn’t over it, and you knew it. Sly comments kept coming your way over dinner, riling you up. Why was she letting schoolground gossip get in the way of you and Yoongi?
By the end of dinner, you were reaching the end of your tether.
If you could just go for a walk, cool off. Literally. Stepping outside, you already hugged your coat a little bit tighter around you.
Just to the forest and back, not far beyond the streetlights, then come back. But as your feet stomped through the newly settling snow, stray flakes catching in your hair, your scowl never lifted.
Your mum had never been too controlling, so why was she so riled up about this one thing? And something that was so important to you? Since school you had had a crush on Yoongi, all those years hanging onto every smile, every laugh, and now something was finally coming true.
Of course that wouldn’t be allowed. Of course, in her book, a bad child grew into a bad adult.
It was true that this town could be very self-contained and you were well used to news circulating. No wonder you hadn’t seen Yoongi back here before. You wanted this to be your chance.
Head turned down against the oncoming snow, you blinked cold flakes from your eyelashes. It was thicker now, blurring in front of you when you looked up.
A gust of wind threaded its fingers through your hair, biting across your slightly damp face. Shoulders hunching, you tried to look around you. Acting of their own accord, your feet had carried you to the forest.
You should head back.
Turning on the spot, you squinted through the darkness for the streetlights at the edge of the trees.
But darkness surrounded you.
Stomach dropping, you rubbed your hands together in front of you. Definitely should have worn gloves.
The white that now coated the forest floor and its branches reflected the precious little moonlight that could reach you here, letting you know you were among the larger trees. Your mind whirled with panic almost as fast as the snow falling around you.
When a shiver shook your frame, you knew you had to move.
If you picked a direction, you would surely find a way back eventually. The forest wasn’t that big, was it?
Maybe they had cut down some trees, but it turned out the woodland was not small. At least, it didn’t feel that way when cold water was seeping through your jeans and clinging to your face and hair. Try as you might to carve out a straight path, the snowstorm was growing, wind forcing you to lower your head.
Still, all you could see was darkness, the ghosts of trees looming from behind the blizzard in the air.
Sniffling, you tried to fight off the panicked tears threatening to spill. This had all been a bad idea. You just wanted to get home.
But unbeknownst to you, someone else was in the woods too.
Not many trees away, perched in his usual spot, Yoongi’s palms met the gnarled bark as he channelled his energy. The storm fell peacefully around him. Breathing deeply, he felt himself letting go.
He knew what this town thought of him. He hadn’t been careful enough, like his parents had told him to. He just never thought that anyone would still remember, not least your mother.
But he couldn’t claim she was wrong. Being Jack Frost came with its dangers, its responsibilities.
And he should have known better. He just wanted you, badly enough that he decided to go for it against his better judgement.
His sadness made itself known in storms like this: not violent or noisy, just cold.
As the white flakes filled the air, he looked out across the darkness of the forest. Wind tugged gently at his white hair but the snow didn’t touch him, evaporating before it hit his shoulders.
He called another gust of wind, threading it through the air, across the land.
When it reached him, it carried something with it.
His eyes opened, looking around through the storm to see where it had come from. It was normal for the branches to rattle, for animals to scurry home, but that wasn’t either sound. It sounded like a person. And not a happy one.
No one else should be out here.
Turning his head left and right, he finally made out a shadowy shape a few trees away.
Quickly and quietly, he slid off his perch, obscuring his body with the trunk of the tree. Around him, the snow calmed a little, drifting calmly once more.
As the person walked closer, he saw them wipe a hand across their cheek. And that sound came again. Were they… crying?
Louder this time, and finally they stepped into a lighter patch…
His eyes widened. What the hell were you doing out here? Assessing you with a flick of his eyes, he knew you must be freezing.
When you stopped suddenly, turning around as your shoulders slumped, he had to force himself to stay behind his tree.
Briefly wetting his lips with his tongue, he looked towards the shortest way out. Why weren’t you going that way? Instead, you were stumbling off in the opposite direction, looking to the ground.
“No,” he muttered urgently, head darting between you and the right path.
Then he made a snap decision.
Pursing his lips, he called up a gust of wind with a quirk of his hand, stopping you in your tracks as it collided with you forcefully. With wide eyes, you whipped around as the wind charged through the forest, carving a winding channel through the trees.
And on the path it tracked, the snow stopped, hovering in stasis along the sides as if lighting the way.
Not daring to breathe, Yoongi studied your face carefully as you stared at the space path he had created. Slowly coming to your senses, you turned your head. He ducked back behind the trunk, breaths falling shallow from his lips.
The snow suspended in the air waited with him until crunching footsteps met his ears.
Peering back out, he watched your form retreating through the woods, perfectly framed between the trees as you trod the right path.
He watched you go, knowing what he had to do.
The snow fell thicker.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/415f1dd67bf533fabfd297fb7ffaef1f/50489743277ed4f7-3c/s540x810/991e229f809a88f899f976aa4aee2954d02c92a7.jpg)
Yoongi would come around soon. The day after your little escapade into the storm, he hadn’t shown his face. But that was fine. It would be weird to come back the day after your first… whatever it was. Right?
But today, he would come.
And when he did, you would make sure you got his number. In a town like this, he could easily come knocking, like he had the other day, but you were sick of waiting around like this.
All day you had been restless, failing to keep yourself from the window as you hoped to see him walking down your road. You longed to tell him about what you had seen in the woods that night.
It had taken you a while to decide you hadn’t dreamt it. But the chills running though you and the damp clothes on your radiator said otherwise. Sure, you had always felt a connection with the woods, but you never expected them to do something in return.
That was what happened, though. They had shown you the way home through the storm.
Last night, you had braved the cold to go there again. The snow lay harmlessly on the ground by now, but you had still kept your wits about you and gone before dark.
Nothing.
Maybe it would just be your little secret.
Or yours and Yoongi’s, if he ever turned up.
The urge to look out of the window returned, and you fought valiantly. Staring at the ceiling was a lot less productive than staring outside, so eventually you stood.
And gaped.
He was actually there!
Right on your driveway, biting his lip as he looked up at your house.
Or maybe…
He was looking at your mum. You stilled, having been ready to race downstairs, but now you watched in horror as your mum marched down the drive.
“Sorry, Yoongi,” you heard, “Y/N isn’t in.”
“Oh, sorry Mrs L/N,” he bowed his head, “I just wanted to talk to her-“
“Well you’ll be doing no such thing,” she snapped, “she won’t be getting mixed up with you. I think you should leave now.”
Hands shaking as they gripped the window frame, you were ready to run out to them, when you heard something in response. It was quiet, so you had to strain to hear it, but when you did you could only stare.
“Could you just… could you tell her that I like her? A lot.”
Your mum scoffed, but as she opened her mouth he continued, looking at the floor.
“-and I won’t be seeing her again. You’re right. I’ll stay away.”
Rooted on the spot, you could only gape as the figures of Yoongi and your mother stood still outside. Then your mum broke the silence.
“Very good.”
“Will you tell her?”
“You should leave,” she said firmly.
Shoulders slumping, he turned away, not even looking back. His footsteps carrying him away were what finally made you move.
“Yoongi!” you shouted, tearing down the stairs as the door slammed.
“Y/N,” your mother’s voice warned.
“What is going on!” you asked desperately, trying to move around her only to be blocked.
“He doesn’t want to see you.”
“No! That’s not true! I heard him-“
“He won’t be seeing you then. It’s for the best.”
“Why?” you cried, tears pricking at your eyes, “what is so wrong with him?”
But instead of an equal retaliation, she heaved a sigh. Blinking furiously, you watched her raise her eyes to meet yours.
“His family… they’ve lived here as long as ours. They’re all strange. Weird things happen. Some sort of… magic. And they don’t mix with us. Never have, but that’s how it should be. They’re not like us, Y/N,” she finished with emphasis.
Meanwhile, a frown had taken over your face.
“That’s- what- that’s ridiculous!” you spluttered, “he’s not magic! And if he is, I don’t care!”
And with that, you pushed past her, tumbling out onto the drive, eyes desperately scanning the bare street.
But you didn’t stop there. Ignoring the defeated calls of your mother, you started running. Yoongi couldn’t have got far; and anyway, you had an idea where he might have gone. You had to catch up. You couldn’t let go of him this easily.
Feet pounding hard on the ground beneath you, you barely noticed the darkening sky above you. Clouds swirled together, looming over your small town.
The wind picked up, throwing your hair back in your face as it tore back and forth across the path. As you dashed at last between the shadows of trees, the floor was practically crawling as leaves tossed themselves along the ground.
Some launched upwards as powerful gusts rushed through the bare branches above, and soon the pummelling of hail joined the rattling of the trees.
Stumbling to a stop deep in the forest, you whirled around, trying to spot Yoongi. Wind continued to assault you, swirling in all directions in the air, trees groaning among the whooshing air.
“Yoongi!” you called at the top of your lungs. Your voice was lost instantly in the cacophony of the storm, stinging hailstones on your cheeks the only response.
Exhaling swiftly, you took off once more, still calling out.
And then you saw him.
Shoulders hunched, his outstretched arms were braced against a tree. Though his head was lowered, you could see the heaving of his chest.
Picking up the pace, you smiled in relief.
“Yoongi!”
Instantly, he sprung away from the tree, head darting around him as he looked for you. But when he met your eyes, they only grew.
And then he was running too.
Away from you.
“Hey! Yoongi!” you shouted after him.
But a roar from the forest drowned you out.
Running faster, hail chucked itself spitefully into your face, the wind surging against you from the darkening sky. Struggling on, you held your hands in front of your face, only lowering them when you trailed to a stop.
Yoongi was nowhere in sight.
Something was wrong. Why was he running away from you?
A loud creak from somewhere above you made you wince. Moving again, you called out Yoongi’s name into the storm.
The hail let up a little as you pressed on, but the raging air only grew more forceful. Creaks and groans from the battered trees surrounded you. Squinting around you, you let your feet stumble on, needing to find him. Among the storm, you could barely hear your thumping footsteps.
An ear-splitting creak made you flinch, head whipping around.
The dark shape of a tree trunk was growing bigger – growing closer.
A blur then, your eyes squeezing shut by instinct, awaiting the crash of the giant hitting the earth.
Nothing.
Cracking your eyelids open, the wind lulled in the air around you, silence buzzing loud in your ears. In front of you, the tree was tilting dangerously, towering directly over you, but caught in mid-air. And holding it up, a colossal sheet of ice, jagged icicles sticking out to one side as if from impact.
You blinked. Let out a breath.
Following the trail of ice, you turned to the side.
There, hand still outstretched, panting slightly, stood Min Yoongi.
“I’m sorry,” he half-whispered.
As you stared blankly back in shock, his eyes flicked back to the tree above you.
“Come here,” he spoke, beckoning you with his other hand.
Obeying, you trod carefully towards him. Once near enough, he gently placed a hand on your sweater-covered arm, guiding you to his side.
As you watched, he lowered his left hand slowly, the wall of ice retracting with it, melting back into the ground. With barely a bump, the tree was lowered to rest.
Returning your eyes gingerly to the boy beside you, your gaze was not returned.
His eyelids shut, lips pressing together as he bowed his head, bringing his arm back to his side at last. He swallowed.
“Y-yoongi?” you whispered.
“I’m sorry, I really am,” he muttered, still not meeting your eyes, “I should never have started anything…”
“But-but I want you!” you protested.
Now he looked at you. He looked at you like you were crazy.
“Did you not see that? What I just did?”
“You saved me.”
A breath.
“But… all the rest? I-I made that tree fall too-”
“The wind made it fall-“
“Y/N,” he stopped you, “your mum is right. I can be dangerous, okay? This storm, that’s me.”
Studying your face carefully, he waited for your reaction.
“Why?”
“It’s always been like this,” he sighed, “I’m… I have storm magic. Winter magic. My family, we’re- I’m… Jack Frost.”
Your eyebrows raised.
“No, but I mean, why the storm? Is something wrong?”
A breathy laugh burst from his lips as he ran a hand through his hair.
“Of course there is! I can’t have you.”
“You don’t have to be scared,” you insisted.
“Don’t you understand? You’re the one who should be scared!” he cried, throwing his arms out.
“No,” you shushed him, stepping forward and slowly reaching out, “you’re scared – of hurting me. You don’t have to be.”
Settling, he watched your hand reach through the air. But as it hovered by his cheek, he pulled away.
“Don’t…”
“Yoongi, I want you.”
“And I want you. But you can’t touch me. I’ll just be cold…”
“Don’t worry,” you smiled.
But as you moved again, his hand came up to grasp your wrist, stopping you.
Then his eye widened, realising what he’d done. But you hadn’t flinched away. Looking at your hands held together, his mouth formed ghosts of words he never spoke, not knowing what to say.
“See?” you encouraged, “it’s not cold.”
Wonder-filled eyes rose, meeting your own. Closing the distance between you, he dropped your wrist and lifted both his hands to cup your face instead, touching you softly as if you were made from porcelain.
A breath escaped his lungs, mouth curving into a gummy smile.
Elated, a smile tugged at your own lips.
Then he surged forwards, lips pressing against yours like a starved man. Moving his mouth hungrily over yours, he held your face firmly between his hands as you eagerly kissed him back. Suddenly his hands were unable to get enough, sliding down to your waist and roaming across your back as he pulled you closer.
Equally enthusiastic, you tugged at his shirt, lips keeping up their mind-blowing rhythm until you were both left panting, foreheads pressed together as your breaths turned to laughter between you.
“Screw what this town thinks,” you grinned, “I’m not letting you go after that.”
“Good,” he growled, smirk adorning his face as he darted in for another lingering kiss.
The trees you stood among had watched you both grow, watched you hurt, and now they finally saw you come together, painted by the setting sun in a clear sky.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/d76474fe8c8507a029db41c6f9df5661/50489743277ed4f7-0a/s540x810/85496152823d3d7fa9b89e124e4e86f2ad4c8183.jpg)
Thank you for reading!! Reblog this if you enjoyed, it helps me get exposure unlike likes💜
@aianloveseven @preciouschimine
Message me if you want to be tagged in new work!
Check out my masterlist here
#thebtswritersclub#bangtanuniversity#purplearmynet#btsholidaybingo#yoongi x reader#yoongi imagine#yoongi magic au#yoongi college au#friends to lovers min yoongi#min yoongi angst#min yoongi fluff#min yoongi angst fluff#min yoongi scenario#suga imagine#suga x reader#christmas min yoongi#magic min yoongi#magic suga#min yoongi x reader#yoongi imagines
217 notes
·
View notes
Text
Title: Lovebug (9/12)
Summary:
“It might be a bug.”
“A bug?”
“Sometimes the developers of this application make mistakes. This is our first time meeting I’m sure so…Isn’t it a bit weird that we just met for the first time and it rings like this? And for two strangers to coincidentally ring each other’s alarms?“
Levi is the developer of the Love Alarm App and Hange is married to Zeke.
Link to cross-postings: AO3
Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
Notes: Sorry for taking my sweet time posting this. We had no wifi for a while, transpo issue and I was dead asleep as soon as I got home two nights in a row lmfao.
Anyway, feedback is very much appreciated :D
Levi might have felt a little guilty about letting loose just that evening but his conservative mind was finding all the ways to justify it.
Maybe the justifications held some weight. After all, taking the midnight train out of the city wasn’t the strangest thing to do. Hange and Levi weren’t the only ones at the ticket gate then they weren’t the only ones waiting on the platform. On the train, Levi could count the number of empty seats more easily than the occupied ones.
He started to relax as soon as he settled on one of the seats. He convinced himself that in the end, he had been overreacting. There was nothing at all odd with rushing to her home then to his, packing two overnight bags and buying two last minute tickets to the northernmost station of their country.
To Pemberley. Levi didn’t have the time to load the book into his reader again. He instead downloaded the pdf file to his phone.
He had willed himself to make sense of the black on the bright white screen before deciding, it was too late at night to read. Instead he propped his elbows on the windowsill and leaned his chin on his hand. He snuck a glance at Hange who sat in front of him, leaning on the window in that same way.
A long day behind them, they were both exhausted. On the bright side, if Levi closed his eyes and let the train rock to whatever rhythm it was most comfortable with, he was sure that in a split second, they would have arrived at their destination.
Sleep could have lasted less than a second. Next thing Levi knew, he was fighting to open his eyes. The sun rose without warning, the only thing between them just an empty glass that did nothing to protect him from the first rays of morning.
Levi quickly adjusted his view, making sure he wasn’t directly staring at the sky like a while ago. He craned his head back, instead focusing on the rolling hills and the countryside.
It wasn’t the British countryside in the book. It didn’t seem at all like a Pemberley or a Rosings Park or Longbourn. Still, he delved into the passing green and foraged for whatever similarities his sleep muddled mind could come up with.
One thing Levi dared to note, despite his limited experience traveling, the view from an interregional highway, or an interregional train, the rolling hills that passed by, the clusters of trees that varied in density and the plains that dotted the view were all the same regardless of location. Despite the variety nature could offer, nature still had unifying characteristics. While at the same time, nature was distinct from everything non-nature.
And when it wasn’t unwillingly tamed, paved over, forced to coexist with concrete, buildings and humans, it was a sight to behold.
It was enough to take his breath away, enough to make him almost regretful that the train was moving too fast for him to stare for just a second longer at a changing landscape or canopies that blurred amongst one another.
Eventually, regret at not appreciating nature had him exhausted. He turned in front of him to see Hange’s eyes were fixed at whatever passing objects caught her eye outside the window. Her head bobbed, her eyes darted from left to right and her mouth was half open and she didn’t seem at all in a hurry to close them.
“I’m sure this isn’t your first time seeing this much nature,” Levi said, a humble start to light conversation.
Hange seemed comfortable going along with it. “It isn’t. We had the country club,” she said. There was a nonchalant look on her face as if she saw the ‘country club’ as more of a consolation.
Levi couldn’t help but agree. Golf courses were all green, the mini forests that lined the paths from the golf courses, to the beaches to the summer houses were all nature. Yet they were of a type of nature, trained not to bite any unsuspecting visitors.
When Levi leaned back on his chair, turning his head out of the window, he appreciated the raw green for a second longer. Then he concluded, there was novelty in seeing nature at its most candid form.
Hange spoke up. “You know, I haven’t been able to leave the city since we left the country club. And not traveling in months... This feels new.”
“But you’ve travelled before,” Levi responded.
“Of course I have,” Hange said. “Zeke would always take me out to the best gardens, the best parks, the best hiking trails… He knows I like nature.”
“So he took you to ‘Pemberley?’ Then to ‘Rosing Park then Longborn?” Most were likely fictional places but at that point, Hange may have had her own idea of what fictional was.
“No, not to my Pemberley,” Hange said, like it was the most unimportant thing in the world. “Never.”
“So this was supposed to be your first time going together?” Levi asked. He noted that they never did get to sit down and map the route to Hange’s dream destinations. Hell, he didn’t even know where they were.
He opened his phone, then the map of the northernmost region.
The capital of the northern region had city buses, a small subway system, nothing like what they had back home. Levi traced the blue and the green, pondering for himself which had the most rolling hills, the most ‘gardens.’ Obviously, over a very zoomed out map and a few hundred mile radius, it would be difficult to tell so he consulted Hange. “We could take an unlimited bus ticket… or a two day all you can ride train---”
“No. We rent a car,” Hange said.
“Wait, but if we don’t know the land--.” There were too many excuses he could have brought up. The excuse he was most hesitant to even fathom seemed most pressing then. Levi didn’t know how to drive.
Hange probably saw through it. “I’ll drive.” The cheeky grin on her face was enough of a hint, she was more than ready for adventure.
Levi closed the maps application and pocketed his phone. “So I’m assuming you’ll be doing the navigation.”
Hange only nodded, her smug smile getting wider by the second.
***
Hange surprisingly knew how to navigate the complexities of building an itinerary. What the hell she was doing, how the hell she was doing it and what the hell her plan was, Levi couldn’t be too sure.
Thirty minutes into arriving at the regional train station, they had rented a car and secured a pocket wifi. Thirty five minutes into it, Hange was pulling out of the station in a rented sedan.
The train station was situated in the middle of the city and in the car, Levi had to subdue the panic which came with going out of the city then seeing the scenery slowly shift from five story buildings to two story houses then finally to the peaceful green offered by the city outskirts. He wondered why they had even taken a train station to town if they were going back into countryside landscapes anyway.
“Do you know where we’re going?” Levi asked. Levi knew that Hange had been there once before. Just the idea that someone could actually easily navigate expressways and exits without a phone on the dock and a guide seemed almost unnerving.
“Ish,” Hange said, her eyes fixed straight ahead.
“We have wifi, we could use a maps application to navigate?” Levi never drove, he wouldn’t know but, it couldn’t hurt to be just a little more careful.
“Maybe later. I’ve been here more than enough times,” Hange said. They rode in silence for a minute or so more before she turned to him. “We’re gonna be on the road for a while and driving on the freeway gets boring.”
Levi glanced up at her questioningly.
Hange caught his eye “Tell me a story.”
“About what?”
“How was your date with Petra?” The question came out of nowhere and Hange had said it too casually and too abruptly and that had Levi choking on his own saliva.
He recovered quickly, clearing his throat. “Excuse me?”
“Your date with Petra? Didn’t you tell me you would be going on one?”
“I did,” Levi admitted. “Because you asked me to,” he added, a second later.
“I suggested it.” Hange clarified. “And how did it feel?”
“Good.” His response was automatic.
One hand on the steering wheel, Hange pulled her phone from her lap, unlocked it and turned on her modified emotions alarm. “Turn yours on.”
Levi only saw one reason why she’d do all that. “Why? You don’t trust me?”
“Well, you went through all the trouble of making the gift right? Let’s make use of it.”
Levi could have fought. He only needed five seconds to see reason in her order. Besides, if she turned hers on, it would turn out to be a fair trade. He turned on his phone scrolled through the home screens and opened the application.
“So how did it feel?” Hange asked. She set her phone on the stand and hovered one finger over the activate button.
“It felt good,” Levi willed himself to say it with the same conviction as a second ago, firm and straightforward but just a little shaky underneath.
Still too shaky to deceive his own application. A yellow spot just under the words ‘happy’ would have been nice. After all, ‘good’ was a word that generally implied that something was good, something made me happy. The alarm flashed with green and Levi had half the mind to fling his phone over the backseat of the car.
“Happy sad? Or sad happy?” Hange asked, there was a laugh in her voice.
Was she mocking me? It felt like a much better argument to quote her, mock her maybe. He glared at her. You told me love is a choice right? By some allusion, Levi attempted to put it all together. “I’m making the choice to say it was a good and productive date. We tried to pick out a good present for you.”
“And in the end, you decided to make an application,” Hange said. “Did Petra suggest anything?”
“Tea, a wallet, a pencil case…”
“I would have enjoyed those,” Hange said.
“It didn’t seem like that to me,” Levi admitted. He studied her features as he spoke.
Hange’s face was unchanging, her eyes still looking straight ahead. Levi was almost amazed she managed to keep some of her focus in conversation. Hange turned the car, swerving towards one exit.
Levi winced at the white that flashed in front of him for a split second. “How do you feel?” He asked.
“About what?”
“About the date?” He answered. Levi gave Hange a good once over, ending with her hand on the clutch. Her hand wasn’t shaking, but she held it like she was going to pull it out of its place any second now.
Hange paused. She had hovered her hand over the alarm but she never did activate it.
Levi subtly turned towards the phone then back at her. “Happy?” At that point, maybe a mischievous side of him had taken over. He wanted to provoke her.
Hange poked the active button on her phone, much harder than necessary, hard enough for Levi to wonder if it had reduced the phone’s lifespan by even just a year or so.
Her phone flashed once again with a purple dot.
Levi noticed her eyes widen for a second then a flash of pink flowered on her cheeks before she looked away. “Angry sad or sad angry?” He asked, deliberately mimicking Hange’s old tone of a while ago. It came out more of a growl than whatever naturally sing songy voice Hange managed everyday. Either way it had been a satisfying set of motions.
“Angry sad… Or maybe sad angry?” Hange murmured. Then she hummed for a second longer, the car slowed down with it and she turned back to him. “I feel...purple,” she said.
Purple isn’t a feeling. Levi glanced accusingly at her. Hange though wasn’t looking back at him. If she saw anything through her peripherals, she didn’t make it obvious.
With her own series of gestures, Hange had given one message. She didn’t want to be bothered.
Yet, she had asked him about Petra for a reason.
Levi couldn’t tell how much he saw was a trick of the light or a clear hint. Hange’s jaw had tightened, her eyes narrowed ahead. She didn’t talk much after the word ‘purple’ that softened to a whisper mid word.
For the first time, she wasn’t being completely transparent
Levi then felt less obligated to open up. “If you’re feeling purple, then I’m feeling green,” he said.
They didn’t talk for a while after that.
The car exited the main road to a road half its size. Although the car always rattled, it was particularly more obvious then and as Levi looked out the window and back at her, he realized that maybe it was because she was slowing down.
Slowing down, or maybe vacillating the best course of action.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine. Just trying to remember the way around here,” Hange said. She looked behind her, then forward again.
“What are we doing here?”
“I’m gonna use this birthday weekend of mine to take a trip down memory lane, reflect on stuff.”
“If that’s how you want to celebrate your birthday…” Levi checked his phone once more before pocketing it.
“Thanks for coming with me,” Hange said, her tone more serious. “Going on these types of treks, they really help. More than you probably think they do.”
Levi could at least try to understand it, if he just focused on how far apart the houses were, the notable manicured green of his surroundings and every single tree, flower, root and bush that just seemed to have a place. All acting prim and proper as if they were doing the gardens a favor.
There must be some appeal at least. “It’s quiet,” Levi noted as the car slowed to a stop to the side of the road.
“Most of the houses here aren’t occupied,” Hange answered. “Who actually wants to live in the middle of nowhere all year round.”
Levi turned around once, scanning his surroundings for a second longer. The houses were too far apart, he counted five just by doing a 360 but he knew if he squinted and took in the other shapes far past the downhill slope he could count more. “From the looks of the houses here, rich people,” Levi said.
“During the summer maybe or during the winter vacation. Every other time of the year most people will stay out in the city so they’re nearer to work,” Hange said. “Zeke owns this house.” She didn't have to point far, Hange only had to casually brush her thumb over to her side for Levi to follow her gaze.
Of course Zeke would own one. When Levi looked behind him again, then looked to the far left and the far right, he had to admit Zeke had one of the grandest ones, a wide two story mansion situated at the top of a hill.
“This is my Rosings Park,” Hange said. She walked towards the small pedestrian gate, pulled a key from her pocket and with a quick flick of movements--- as if she had done it so many times before--- she unlocked then pushed the metal gate open with a creak.
The view behind the black bars was only more beautiful. They climbed the hill and slowly but surely, Levi was getting a much better view of the house on top. He noted that the house gleamed with a type of beauty that could take one’s breath away. He had been a little self conscious though and he found himself willing his mouth shut, letting his breaths come out with a more rehearsed rhythm.
“Did you ever continue the book?” Hange asked, her eyes fixed ahead.
It was easy to tell which book she had been talking about. “Since you spoiled me? No,” he admitted.
“Then I don’t think you’ve read far enough into the book if you still think Elizabeth ended up with Mr. Wickham,” Hange said. “You probably won’t appreciate Rosings park then.”
“You still remember…” Levi could have sworn it had been months since he told her about the book.
“The book means a lot to me,” Hange said. Her words were a bit more careful that time, but she was starting to climb the hill, a little faster as if whatever scenes were running through her head then had injected in her, enough energy for adventure.
Levi brushed away a rush of guilt and he followed behind her. “Go spoil,” he said. I’m sorry about being angry. He didn’t say those last two words, awe, exhaustion or maybe a combination of both had him opting to stay quiet. Maybe he chose to reflect and as he followed behind, he started to wonder why he had been angry about her spoiling in the first place.
Hange seemed surprisingly eager to spoil him. The first words out of her mouth came out unimpeded. “Rosings Park is where Mr. Darcy first proposed to Elizabeth.”
First proposed. “So she rejected him?” Levi asked.
Hange turned back to him and nodded, a strange smile on her face. “And why do you think Elizabeth would reject Mr. Darcy?”
“He was an asshole right?”
“According to Elizabeth that is…” Hange looked at him expectantly but Levi for the life of him couldn’t tell what she wanted. She didn’t give him time to answer. She ran straight ahead towards the side of the house.
Levi was left with no choice but to follow. After all, the grounds were much larger than Levi had expected. From his view at the bottom of the hill, the house had seemed small, only composed of the front porch. As Hange went behind the house, disappearing in the corner, Levi started to suspect that the summer house was larger.
Consequently, Levi was occupying himself over the wealth of Zeke.
Again. The view didn’t do anything to help. The corner opened up to manicured gardens, clean cut hedges and flowers that could have been arranged by some invisible hand. Or maybe they were arranged artificially. It probably wasn’t beyond Zeke and his money to find ways to grow flowers so they were evenly spaced, further accentuating the fiery orange and bright red on the simple green.
Hange followed the stone path that lined the large house, slowly balancing on the pebbled line that cut between the cobbled stone path like it was a tightrope. She had the balance, maybe the eagerness to look straight ahead, and Levi couldn't really follow her gaze or be certain of where she was staring.
She didn’t look particularly entranced at anything as if she had seen it so many times before.
“This is one of Jaeger summer houses,” Hange said. She stopped by the fork of the path, one side circled the house, the other went straight into the garden. “He has others all over the country, others abroad. Too many to count and I don’t even think I’ve been to all of them.”
“Okay.” Levi had felt pressured to say something. As the awkward silence dragged on, Levi realized that might have not been the best thing to say.
What else was there to say though?
Wow the garden is so nice. It seemed like an appropriate thing to say but it didn’t feel like something he would have liked to admit to Hange.
Wow your husband is so rich. What else would that do but reiterate what Levi already knew?
Wow, I wish I was your husband. That last one felt like a mind fart. Something that had seemed natural to think but as Levi pondered it for a second longer, he realized just thinking that exact phrase seemed all the more inappropriate.
“Does it seem artificial?” Hange asked.
“Yes, it does.” That answer came out easier definitely, especially when it wasn’t a begrudging compliment. Especially when in the back of his mind, he could remind himself, those weren’t his words, those were Hange’s.
Hange continued to indulge him. “Gaudy?”
“Very tacky, incredibly tacky.” Maybe those words had seemed more for him than for anyone else. A hint of guilt settled at his chest but then he remembered, the Jaeger family had more than enough money. He could spare a few unkind words. He looked at Hange, trying his best, to keep his eyes away from the garden in front of him, before he started to doubt the reliability of his own words.
Despite the ‘gaudiness,’ Hange walked ahead, following the stony path and Levi followed behind. Beyond the shiny manicured hedges were benches, a gazebo and Hange sat one of the ones closest to the top, just before the steep incline fell. It was a good vantage point for a comprehensive view of the garden.
At the highest point, the green expanded in all directions. He could pick out how the sun kissed the lawn, the trees and how they shone with something seemingly unnatural. The more Levi stared, the more easily it became to pick out what gaudiness Hange had been talking about.
With his eyes looking out for the right glimmers, he soon figured for himself, they shone like plastic. It soon became apparent to Levi, there was something artificial and tacky about manicured lawns, well trimmed hedges and carefully positioned flowers. The guilt assuaged and Levi felt all the more confident to look back at Hange. “Why do you like it here then?”
“It’s still Rosings park to me,” Hange said matter-of-factly.
“And what’s so special about Mr. Darcy’s first proposal?”
“Read the book,” Hange said as if that were the easiest thing to do then.
The book was loaded into his phone. It was just a few clicks away, reading was an entirely different process and Levi found it tempting to overlook that order---or that friendly suggestion altogether.
“Just spoil me. You spoiled me already before,” Levi said.
“Mr. Darcy first proposed here.”
You said that already. “And? What’s so special about that?”
Hange didn't reply to him immediately. For a long few seconds, she stared at nothing in particular then turned to him, a defiant look on her face. “You know, you remind me of Mister Darcy.” A backhanded insult maybe, enough to have Levi looking away as blood rushed to his face.
Anger, it was definitely anger. “How do I remind you of Mister Darcy?” Levi challenged.
“Read---”
“Don’t.” Levi looked away.. “Tell me to read the book.”
“And there you are again.” Hange waved one hand at him, as if making a point.
A point Levi could only grip weakly. “You think I’m an asshole?” One realization dawned on him, maybe he had been pressing a little too much at her points.
“Not an asshole. A well intentioned man with a very abrasive manner of speaking.”
“Abrasive?” Levi asked. When he realized he put a little too much lip into the ‘br’ and too much throat into that last last syllable that Hange might have just been right, but only just. “What makes you think I’m abrasive?” He added, a second later, just making his manner of saying the word ‘abrasive,’ softer and tamer.
Hange looked pointedly at him. She stood up, right in front of the gazebo. And she stood there for a second longer, as if she expected him to follow.
It was awkward to sit alone on a bench, in a garden he wasn’t familiar with, especially when the partner of the owner was standing seemingly uncomfortable by the gazebo. He stood up and walked towards her.
“Was I at least tolerable?” Hange asked with a very distinct tone, a hint of a mock accent in her voice.
Tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me. For some reason, those words had stuck with him. “Why the hell are you citing the book?”
“Oh, so you noticed. I wanna play a bit,” Hange said.
“Play what?”
“Just play a bit with the man who reminds me so much of Mister Darcy,” Hange said. The insult still poked at Levi at his most irritable and he was tempted to walk away.
Hange put one hand out and the most natural movement was to look back. “What do you want?” Levi asked. Two parts of him were grappling for control, one with the intention to walk away and one tempted to take her hand. “Why are you putting your hand out?”
She’s married. She’s married. She’s married.
“May I have this dance?” Hange asked.
No, you cannot dance with a married person. People go to balls because they’re single. His conscience wasn’t screaming but it had grumbled it with utmost authority.
Holding hands was off limits. Holding hands with a married person in one of the summer houses of her billionaire husband was very much off limits. What the hell was Hange thinking? His head started to spin, there was a hitch of breath and Levi didn’t even think confusion could have sent a prickle in his eyes.
The hand quickly disappeared from in front of him. Levi looked up to see Hange had pulled that hand back and it fell to her side. Still, Hange was moving it, as if it was still very much fair game. “See, you’re a softie at heart,” she said.
“What are you trying to prove?” Levi asked.
“That you’re like Mr. Darcy?” Hange was getting more and more smug. “Mr. Darcy didn’t wanna dance either.”
“We’re not in a ball,” Levi said, blood rushing to his cheeks. Suddenly everything seemed like an insult. Darcy was an asshole yet a big softie. Two descriptions on two different ends of the spectrum. Levi started to reflect. Which description was more insulting?
Hange leaned back on the gazebo. ”Let me enjoy this, I met a guy who reminds me of mister Darcy. Then when we first met, I thought you hated me, if not hated me, I thought you just hated the world,” she said.
"How can you assume that from our first meeting?" Levi asked.
Hange sighed. "You sat too far away from me, you acted like my being there was an inconvenience and you weren't too happy to be answering all my questions."
"I was being professional."
"I have met sales people nicer than that."
Levi wasn’t a salesman. That much, he could admit. "And just because I was a little abrasive, you'll assume I hate you?"
"What can I say, that's my prejudice," Hange said. She didn't look like she would have bothered to hear much about his explanation.
"And what are you going to say now? My own abrasiveness is pride?" Levi challenged. Really, he was in no mood for a challenge then, a challenge he didn’t himself understand. He sighed and turned back to the bench. From the mischievous glint in Hange’s eyes, it was obvious there were way more things he still didn’t understand. “Give me time to finish the book,” he said.
He stretched his legs out, unlocked his phone and opened the ebook file.
He didn't remember the last words where he stopped but he did remember one particular passage that seemed a little bolder, the ink darker particularly on the bright white of his phone screen.
You could not make me happy, and I am convinced that I am the last woman in the world who could make you so.
Then comprehension came quickly after that. Levi scanned through the next page, until reaching a point where he knew there was new information.
Back to that asshole Darcy. At that point, Levi was in less of a mood to reflect. Hange had called him Darcy, he still considered that one character to be a total asshole and he found himself torn between denying and accepting his sad fate.
Hange continued to move, a flicker at his peripherals. He felt it clearly, she sat beside him again. He heard the click as she unlocked her phone. Then the all too familiar sound as the love alarm activated. Love alarm or Emotion alarm?
Levi cursed himself for reusing that damn sound. He glanced quickly, just to search for some flash in the color. He couldn't really tell the contents of her phone from his angle. And when he had gathered up the courage to look, Hange had already pocketed it.
“Peaceful isn’t it?” Hange started.
“How do you feel today?” Levi asked. He kept his voice disconnected, not looking at all at Hange.
“Happy,” she said.
Levi had turned on his own application almost surreptitiously, making the conscious effort to silence it just a second ago.
The alarm flashed before him again. A very familiar yellow, with the words happy on top.
“Good for you then,” Levi finally responded.
He made another conscious effort, a quick sanity check, just to make sure the smile wasn’t apparent in his tone.
The house wasn't empty.
As Levi soon found out as they made their way back out to the gate, there were housekeepers, gardeners. And they seemed fond of Hange, fond enough to even remember her birthday. Some had even been friendly enough to ask who the man with her was.
Friendly. Or suspicious. For a while longer, Levi was self conscious.
But there was nothing to hide. He and Hange after all had just gotten friendly over the months.
“This is Levi, he’s a developer helping me work on my PhD,” Hange explained it like it was just the truth.. “And I thought I’d show him around the estate. If you don’t mind…” And it was the stone cold truth and as she spoke, Levi couldn’t help but be fascinated at how feelings of sadness, guilt and relief mixed so easily together inside him.
The housekeeper shook her head. “No, we don’t mind at all. Do you two need lodging? We could prepare---”
Hange put her hands up in front of her. “No, that would be too much. We’re only here for the night and I think I wanna go further up north.”
“Just like last time?” Worry flashed across the housekeeper’s face for just a second. “You know it gets dangerous nearer to the mountains…”
“We’ll only be there for a while, just long enough to see it again. And we’ll be careful about it.” Hange looked like she was saying too much. But she always talked so it shouldn’t have been such an odd thing to think. Maybe because Hange spoke with a little more tension, her words came out of her much faster, sometimes stilted and Levi found himself staring, then avoided her gaze as he realized he couldn’t even control what he was feeling.
The quick exchange eventually ended and he was following Hange out of the house. Her strides were much harder to keep up with.
“Sorry about that,” Hange said. “I get nervous when I visit the Jaeger estate alone.”
“You’re married to Zeke, you have every right to be there.”
“I married Zeke, not his money. I don’t wanna play the partner that just suddenly enjoys all the richest and powers of my husband. That’s why I didn’t even take his name. I’m not a gold digger. I’m not a Jaeger, we just so happened to get married.” She got into the car and closed the door with a louder slam than usual.” I’d feel much better staying over if Zeke was with me.”
“You didn’t have to take me here either if you were uncomfortable.”
“I wanted to show you my Rosing Park,” Hange said. She placed her hand on the clutch and started the car. “And next, we go to ‘Pemberley.’ It’s a few hours away from here so buckle up.”
The car pulled out from the driveway and soon they were out on the road again.
A few minutes of silence later, Levi started to get a little restless. “This book really means a lot to you huh?” He asked.
Hange nodded then she was quiet for a while longer and Levi thought it proper to just let her navigate her way through. The car continued to whirr and if Levi looked closely, he even noticed his body was shaking with it. If he read for a while longer, he could end up with his head spinning and his eyes crossing. He increased the font size and willed himself to read again.
“You know,” Hange’s voice was ringing in the silence and it pulled him out of his semi concentrated state.
Levi looked up at her, and just behind her, he saw they arrived back in the free way.
Hange continued. “One thing about Pride and Prejudice, the author doesn’t spend too much time talking about how the landscapes look like. The appearance of the houses and gardens are up for interpretation.”
Levi recalled, Hange was a very inquisitive person. Enough to hyperfixate on landscape? He was doubting. “Then why did you imagine Zeke’s manor as Rosings?” He asked.
Hange shrugged. “If you read the book, you’d see, it was the home of Lady Catherine, an incredibly tacky place and if you remember the gardens behind the house, they’re very green but they seem…. Artificial? Rehearsed?” She gave a pained look.
“Then why do you care enough to look at them if you hate the gardens that much?”
Hange shook her head. “I don’t hate them but the novel, it made me reflect on a lot of things and sometimes, when I allow myself to look at the landscapes, I’m able to think about what happened in the book, and about love and---”
“So Mr. Darcy proposed to Elizabeth,” Levi interrupted. “Then what happened?”
“She turned him down,” Hange said.
“Why?”
“To put it simply, because she thought Darcy was an asshole.”
“It’s only natural that people wouldn’t want to marry an asshole right?” Levi asked. “Books should be teaching those types of things.”
Hange spared him a long glare. “Well, here’s the thing. Mr. Darcy isn’t an asshole. He’s misunderstood.”
“And what do romance novels do but romanticize every single ‘misunderstood’ man.”
Hange hummed and stared back again at the front. The car continued to move at a steady pace. A long pause followed. Then she spoke up again. “What if I told you Pride and Prejudice is not really a romance?”
“When it follows a couple and the development of a relationship, I think it counts.”
Hange patted the steering wheel. “Well sure, the novel tackles love and marriage but the approach is… cold, calculating. If you notice, they spend more time discussing money, properties, duty. It takes into account money, status, upbringing… so it seems more like a social commentary to me. ”
You could not make me happy, and I am convinced that I am the last woman in the world who could make you so.
“Then how did this book shape your idea of love?” Levi asked.
Hange put her finger to her chin. She had a far off look. “I like the idea of approaching love as something to calculate and to think about. Like Elizabeth and Darcy, they explored it, they thought long and hard about it..”
“Oh?” Levi asked, one eyebrow raised. “Is this where your ‘love is a choice’ schtick comes from?”
Hange bit her lip. “Not just that definitely. There’s a lot to learn about being hasty, about having to think long and deep about love and marriage. They didn’t fall in love at first, they were prideful. They had their prejudices but they made it work… And I thought to myself, maybe these are what love and marriage are? Maybe they're calculating like a science, maybe we should consider everything from reputation, money, family and convenience when we deal with something like love and marriage and it’s okay to approach life that way.”
For some reason, that tirade only made Levi heavier and heavier the more he continued. "The main character… she turned down Mr. Collins proposal and that was because she didn't love him right? Emotions play a part too," Levi said.
"I'm not denying it," Hange said. "But ask yourself, how much of a part are emotions supposed to play?"
That question, Levi couldn't answer. Somehow, that should have been something someone a little more experienced like Hange should have answered for him. Instead, she kept quiet, her eyes looking straight ahead, but she blinked a little faster the next few times as if she was struggling with something he couldn't see.
It could have been uncharacteristic. It was an odd set of emotions to play with but Levi was suddenly more and more compelled to break the silence himself. With nothing much else to say, he let his emotions speak for him. "If I were a little cold before, I didn't mean that."
"No offense taken," Hange grinned at him knowingly. "You seem tense." She was studying him for that glimmer of a second before she started to fiddle with her phone with her free hand. "I have the audiobook for Pride and Prejudice. You wanna listen?"
***
"They gradually ascended for half a mile, and then found themselves at the top of a considerable eminence, where the wood ceased, and the eye was instantly caught by Pemberley House, situated on the opposite side of a valley, into which the road with some abruptness wound.
"This is supposed to be my Pemberley," Hange said. She had been hyping it up since a while ago that it seemed almost anticlimactic then. With the tone Hange was giving, he was sure she had been a little disappointed too. "Believe me, it looks nicer on good days," she added.
It had been a good day until a while ago. He could have sworn the sky had been blue for at least half the trip. Grey clouds were a strange things, part of the clouds were grey from afar but never looked too menacing until they was looming directly above them. Only when it was nearer did it have the tendency to just blanket everything in a very dull and unbearable grey.
Any color would look grey with the right level of dimness. He wondered for a while longer why Hange was still continuing the trek. The longer they walked, the farther they got from the car.
Levi’s worry, his nervousness only increased threefold, fourfold then he lost count. After all, they had stopped on what could have been the middle of nowhere. He couldn't tell where they were. Any inkling of sense laid out in front of them was in the form of a dirt road, just stretched out from the freeway with no buildings for miles, no pit stops.
And if it actually started to rain? Levi imagined it for a second before shaking his head. He tried to focus on other things like the ease of walking, his manageable energy levels.
The meagre late lunch of a drive-through burger meal was more than enough for a quick hike. Levi found himself pondering whether energy should have even been expended for something so grey.
The color grey just didn't seem worth the hike to see. "Why are we here?" Levi asked.
"Let's just stay long enough to climb the hill." Hange seemed persistent. Her back was on him and he couldn't tell the face she was making then. “It might look better on the other side.”
They were near enough at least that Levi had to crane his neck to see the top and he consoled himself. Maybe it was worth the hike. Maybe Hange was more privy to weather patterns and she at least calculated the quick hike and the awe that it would be worth.
Then Levi reminded himself, it was her birthday. Whether it did leave him as in awe as she was was irrelevant. That was a consolation Hange afforded herself. He was merely a companion. There should be things to get out of the conversation at least. “Tell me about your Pemberley,” Levi said.
“You’re gonna continue reading right? Do you really want to know?” Hange asked, seeming suddenly careful with her words.
After spoiling me the rest of the way? Levi would have wanted to ask.
“You seemed invested,” Hange said. It was a sufficient answer to his silent question. “I’d rather you read it on your own. Especially the part about Pemberley and the scene in Rosing’s.”
“Why? After spoiling me this much?” His abrasiveness, the irritation had made his legs lighten under him and he moved a little faster catching up to Hange.
Hange seemed concentrated, looking ahead, not hesitating even as the incline presented itself right in front of them. It was getting steeper and Levi felt it as an ache in his legs as he climbed but Hange, admirably or begrudgingly, seemed unfazed
Levi was a few inches shorter and maybe he was at a disadvantage. He didn’t have the same investment either but he stepped forward, going at the steeper incline with wider strides while maintaining speed. He looked to Hange who was right next to him. She continued to look ahead, she craned her head back, her hastily tied hair fell behind her and she was whispering something.
If Hange hadn’t seemed hypnotized yet disturbed, if the fat cold droplets didn’t settle on his arms, getting stronger and more numerous by the second, maybe he would have let her climb and climb. He would have obediently followed behind.
It had been everything at once. Maybe confusion at everything had been that one final nail on the coffin. Irritation welled quickly, then anger. Hange hadn’t been speaking in any straightforward manner for a while already so he forced it out of her.
“Why the hell does Pemberley mean so much to you?” Levi raised his voice. Just in case that hadn’t been enough, hell, that had actually been enough, he pulled her from behind.
The rain accumulated on the dirt road quickly and when Hange turned to answer, she fell backward rapidly. Right on top of him.
It was a quick and terrifying sequence or movements, Levi found himself sandwiched, Hange in front of him, his behind buried in mud and dirt, blades of grass were brushing heavily past him. But he didn't stop.
They didn't stop. Gravity had them moving down, naturally quickly and violently down the steep incline and Levi could only be thankful that the grass had been kind, absent of anything that could have snagged at any part them.
A few long seconds later, by some miracle, they were unharmed, still very much alive.
It didn’t change the fact that at the bottom, they were both fucking dirty. And he was a little--- scratch that--- very rattled. And Hange was on top of him, her hair clung close to her, her glasses had fallen to her mouth and she seemed just a little disconcerted.
Hange pushed herself up. “I’m sorry, are you okay?” She put one hand on his cheek, one filthy hand.
Instinctively, Levi pushed it away. She was disgusting. They were both disgusting. He could taste a hint of dirt at his lips and he closed his nose and shut his mouth before he could taste anymore.
It was disgusting. And in that state, he was recalling how pleasant almost drowning seemed when he was covered in mud, the rain only continued to pour. He would rather have been drinking salt water then.
When he noticed that a minute passed under the rain, he started to observe then search for signs on how Hange might have been feeling. They had left their phones in the car. He was thankful they weren’t casualties but he was a little regretful that he couldn’t read her then.
Purple. He made a guess. That was the only reading she had given then. Sad angry? Or angry sad?
But when he looked for sadness, angriness, he saw it in those wide eyes in the red just under her eyes. Or he could have been projecting. It could have also been a placebo affect.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. I got so fucking worked up over this. Let's go back." Hange's voice was stilted, alarmingly cold.
"You've done this before right?"
The rain wasn't stopping anytime soon. In fact, it came down hard and Levi could have felt like he was drowning again.
The storm had proven to be a worse adversary. The wind was almost as menacing as waves.
He struggled to his feet. Hange had held out her hand, wrapped one arm around his shoulder and standing up became a small feat.
"Hey, are you okay?" Hange asked again, her voice a whisper that brushed at his neck. She was close enough to even overwhelm the pouring rain just outside their small bubble.
He hadn't answered her earlier. He didn't even know how she had been able to get the message to him in spite of the wind blowing at their face, the thunder and the patter of the rain on the dirt road.
When they were close enough, shoulders and arms touching, her lips almost brushing against his ear. He thought it close enough that she would probably hear if he whispered. Maybe it was worth just opening his mouth to speak. Two words or maybe four. Just long enough so she won’t have to speak again the whole trek back to the car.
“Let’s just go back.”
***
Adrenaline, exhaustion and the shaken state eventually gave way to irritation once again.
It was a slow process but Hange was silent. She had been driving much slower and with the peace, the slow rhythm of the whirring of the car, Levi had time and space to contemplate.
Levi was contemplating the expenses of cleaning a rented car. When the mud started to dry and harden, when they caked at his skin, they only aggravated the at first, silent irritation. It was silent but it was irritating altogether. He angrily wiped his hands on the dashboard of the car, and reached for his phone next to the clutch.
“Levi, I can pay for cleaning up the car," Hange said.
Levi kept quiet. For one, he didn’t want to entertain the idea of making her pay for all of it. A part of him though, the stingy part, would have rather she did.
“Levi, are you angry at me?” Hange asked a minute later.
And that phrase always had that magic of making most people angrier than they were already. Levi was no exception.
Still, he did try to be just a little nicer. “You’re driving aimlessly on the road. We’re a mess in the car. We’re both covered in mud, my legs and my arms hurt. Hange, think.”
“Think?”
“Who wouldn’t be at least a little angry?” His tone betrayed his words. Hange had been responding in questions since a while ago and it only served to further aggravate it.
“I told you, I’m sorry.” She did say 'sorry' a while ago but he wasn't in the mood to accept it then. So it slipped his mind.
“Well, finally you’re being more direct but you know, it would have been helpful if you’ve been more open since a while ago.”
“More open about what?”
Levi smacked his hand on the dashboard. “There you are again, you ask questions but you never fucking answer. And if you answer you’re fucking vague, or you fucking digress.”
“Any... question you wanna ask?” Hange asked hesitantly.
“Why does Pemberley mean so much to you? Why does this damn book mean so much to you? You’re a scientist, a researcher. Why are you getting so worked up over a fucking social commentary?”
Hange gave him a wounded look, and she stared for a long time. Levi only noticed then, that that had been the longest stare she had been giving him in a while. The fiasco of a while ago was enough of an evidence that Hange did get worked up over it and Levi held it like a memento, just in case Hange decided to play oblivious.
She didn’t. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I got emotional.” But she still wasn’t answering questions.
“Why does Pemberley mean so much to you?” Levi asked again. He kept this voice hard, stone cold and firm. He enunciated every syllable and every word like they were separate from one another.
Hange avoided his gaze. “Well, I really like the relationship between Elizabeth and Darcy---”
“Why do you like it so much?”
“It’s because I would have wanted the same for myself---”
“Would have?” And Levi caught it, two words that had hovered in the air for a second.
Hange clamped her mouth shut.
“Would have?” Levi repeated again in the silence. And the irritation, the discomfort and the fury from being caked from head to toe with semi dried mud had somehow been released with two words.
“I have the same for myself,” Hange clarified.
“Would?”
“It’s a slip of the tongue,” Hange said. She didn’t look back and it didn’t look like she would be prodding that topic anymore.
So Levi brought up another question. “What about Elizabeth and Darcy’s relationship do you like?”
“It’s... “ Hange was hesitating. “It’s in the small details…” She seemed more concentrated on the road ahead of her.
“Go on.” Levi gripped on the seat cushion underneath him. Somehow, the car was starting to move in time to the patter of the rain.
“You might even think I’m crazy for looking at them…” Hange continued.
“But…” Levi turned to Hange, he looked closely as her lips parted as if she was about to say something.
Then her voice filled the cramped space inside the car for only a split second, before the squeak of tires, the spray of water and the burst of sensations that came with the dizzying experience of his body lurching forward in his seat.
For a second, Levi could have sworn he was dead.
***
They weren’t the only ones who decided to call it a day. It turned out there were numerous people who had been wandering around that side of the country and it looked like that particular motel had been the only one for miles around.
The first warning should have been the fact that it had taken Levi and Hange minutes to navigate a pretty small parking lot, just to find a place to fit the car. The second warning should have been the amount of lit up windows.
At that point, they were both exhausted and Levi had focused too clearly on the ‘open’ sign.
Open 24 hours.
So he didn’t waste any time. Hange didn’t either. It was cold, it was raining and Levi could forget that it was too early in September for him to have been shivering, for white fog to be accompanying his shuddering breath.
It was his first time up north, autumn came much earlier. That didn’t stop him from grumbling silently about why autumn rains had to be so cruel.
It was barely even autumn. Shitting on the weather proved to be an adequate consolation for their very uncomfortable state.
Hange seemed unsure and maybe she had heard his grumbles, maybe she had assumed it was about her. “I’ll check if they have any rooms,” Hange said, an apologetic smile on her face. She looked down towards his elbow. “And I’ll ask for a first aid kit, so we could do something about that.”
His body had been a conglomeration of discomforts since a while ago and the bleeding scrape on his elbow had been a terrible surprise. Not so terrible actually as he looked closer, he barely even felt it.
Before he could stop her, Hange had went ahead to the reception, covered in mud and all. Levi was grateful at least that they both had cleaned their shoes on the way in. The headache would be left to whoever would be cleaning their car.
The man at the counter was apologetic, a little too nice and he spoke to Hange like he was talking to some higher figure. It was a simple back and forth.
They were guests, he worked in hospitality. It was a natural exchange.
Maybe Levi had just been a little perceptive because everyone seemed to approach Hange with some unique form of respect. After a brief back and forth, Hange turned back to Levi, a flash of uncertainty on her face.
Just a flash. Before Levi could perceive more, it disappeared.
Levi still saw that as a cue to follow behind. “What?”
“So there is only one room left, towards the back...” Hange started.
“Apologies about this…” The receptionist bowed his head. “The roads get slippery… And it’s dangerous to go out so many people….” He was babbling at that point and all Levi wanted him to do was get to the point.
Hange let out a sigh then dropped her credit card on the table. “We’ll take it.”
“You managed to get a room, why is he apologizing?” Levi asked, turning to the comparably more coherent Hange Zoe.
“Well, there’s only one room left,” Hange responded.
“And?”
“There’s only one bed.” Hange had said that part with a straight face. She huffed and put one muddy finger up in front of him. “But you know, I really think we can make this work...”
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
Second Chances (Ending 2)
Pairing: Carlisle Cullen x Reader Warnings: Death, a lot of angst, sad time, oof Author’s Note: I did a fluffy ending the first time, but you know angst is my specialty. Sorry, not sorry. P.S. It starts out the same way, the ending is the only thing different.
~~~~~
"Hey, promise me. Promise me you'll move on."
"You know I can't do that."
"Say you love me. Can you do that, please?"
"You'll get to hear it forever."
"Carlisle, I love yo-"
...
...
...
Three years.
It had been three years since he lost her.
Carlisle tried to move on, he did. Losing her was the hardest thing he ever had to experience in his very long life.
His family supported him, they tried to help anyway they could. They were the only reason he was still holding on, they needed him so he would be there for him.
But it wasn't enough to keep him alive. Even his new granddaughter, Renesmee could only bring so much light into his life. Everyone knew of who he lost, everyone knew why the excellent doctor of the town wasn't as radiant as he used to be.
But no one would understand his loss. No one would understand his pain. Even Jasper, who could feel it.
Even now as he drove to work, using the same route he did everyday, he missed her with all of his being. He couldn't help the emptiness that threatened to seep into his skin again as he thought about the times she decided to join him on his way to work. She would claim its "on the way", but she just wanted to spend the morning with him before turning around and heading the complete opposite way to get to her workplace.
He felt like a small smile was supposed to be threatening to creep onto his face, but all he felt like doing was crying at the memory.
All he had to do was tell her that he loved her too. But he didn't, he didn't even get to say that to her before she was gone.
He sucked in a deep breath to try and calm his nerves, his eyes scanning through his windshield, glancing over at the trees surrounding the road he drove on alone. His eyes caught onto a strange sign peaking out of the trees. He'd driven down this road hundreds-- thousands of times, and he'd never seen that sign there. He looked closely at it:
"For Sale: Second Chances"
He blinked at it, his brows twitching. Before he could pass the sign, he turned into the strange natural path the sign stood next to, driving into the trees and parking his car. He stepped out, looking down the path.
Carlisle narrowed his eyes, tapping into his hearing to see if he could get a clue as to what this was. He sighed and started walking down the path, extra careful of his surroundings to make sure there wasn't some threat lurking in the shadows.
After walking for a few minutes, he came up on a small shack. There was an open sign hanging on the door spray painted on a piece of wood. The windows were slightly dimmed, but he could see through just fine. There were shelves with empty and filled jars, little boxes, and much more.
He lingered at the door for a moment before opening it and stepping inside. He look around the slightly dusty place with curiosity. What was this place? The items on shelves and sitting on the floor along the walls were strange, but they seemed mundane enough.
"Hello?" He called, filling the silence with his smooth, velvety voice.
An lady peaked her head from a door behind the counter with a smile. She seemed to be in her early forties. She wore a hippie dress, a scarf tied around her head, her lips glossed. Her hair was white, but her skin was a rich, youthful brown. She wore gold hoop earrings, and her hands were decorated with rings. There was an excessive amount of necklaces hanging from her throat, but it somehow worked.
But it was her eyes that caught Carlisle's attention. They held an antiquity to them, like she was older than she looked. But she wasn't a vampire, he knew this.
The woman gave a warm smile, a kind of radiance in it, "Hello, how may I help you?"
He formed the question in his head before saying it out loud, "Who are you?"
She shrugged, her smile never faltering, "Just a shopkeep. Did you come in for our sale?"
Carlisle thought again, he was still confused and curious about everything, so he didn't exactly know how to answer, even with a mind as quick as his. "What is the sale?"
"Our Second Chance Sale," she shopkeep said, tilting her head politely.
"What is that?"
"Exactly what it sounds like. A second chance. Is that what you are in search of? A second chance?" She asked, fluttering her lashes, folding her hands together in question.
He hesitated, "A second chance at what?"
"You tell me, dear," she shrugged, "What is it you wish to fix?"
There was only one thing that came to mind, one thing that was always on his mind every second of every day. He would trade in his life to make things right. But this could easily just be some cruel joke.
But, if it was, the worse that could come of it would be the painful thought that he could have made things right but didn't.
He gave a nod, "I would save her."
She smiled again, holding her hand out to him, "Give me your hand."
Again, he was hesitant. He didn't know what to trust about this. In fact, he should have just gone to work and avoided the contact at all, but he hadn't. He felt a strange pull to this place, to something within it. Some feeling.
He handed her his hand, laying it in her palm as he held his breath. She looked down at it, flipping it over in his hand to reveal his palm. She looked closely at it for a while, as if seeing something more in the lines and creases than just lines and creases.
She nodded, grabbing a jar off the counter and opening it without breaking eye contact with his palm. She took a handful of the contents of the jar, the unknown powder being sprinkled in his hand and then the excess powder being discarded on the floor with little to no thought from the woman.
Carlisle watched the shopkeep worked as she closed his hand over the strange powder, kneading his fingers into his palm firmly. When she opened his hand again, the powder had completely disappeared. She looked back up at Carlisle and said, "In a few moments, your second chance will present itself to you."
Carlisle spoke, "What is the cost?"
She shrugged, "Whatever comes of it. If you succeed, the cost is your pain. It will disappear and you shall be happy again. However if you fail, the cost is your happiness. It will never be seen again."
Carlisle gave a solemn look, understanding with each second the graveness of the situation. This wasn't just for her, this was for him. He couldn't fail, he couldn't.
She gave him a stern nod before speaking in a firm voice, "Go."
~
Carlisle's eyes focused on the newspaper in his hands, sat in his home by himself. His children were out hunting, he had stayed back. He looked around, confused and surprised. What had happened?
All he remembered was the shopkeep, how did he end up here?
His phone rang during his quest to understand what was going on. He looked at it and picked it up. 'Alice'
He breathed in deeply before picking up the phone and bringing it to his ear, "Alice?"
Her voice was frantic, disturbed, as she spoke, "Carlisle? Y/N's in danger. She's going to be taken by Victoria."
Carlisle was suddenly hyperaware of everything. Those were the words Alice said to him when he called her that night. This was her second chance.
"How long do I have?" He questioned quickly, already in his car in the garage as he rushed out of the drive.
There was a beat of silence before she answered, "About five minutes. They're at the treaty line."
Carlisle had no time to thank her as he hung up, throwing his phone to the seat next to him and rushing to her. He already knew where she was. He'd lived it before. He would not live through what came after again.
He wasted no time in stopping the car with the screech of the wheels against the ground, getting out in no time and seeing the redhead standing with the love of his life. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her. He hadn't seen her in so long.
"Y/N," he breathed. If he were capable of it, tears would have sprang to his eyes.
Victoria growled, "It's not as good as Bella, but I'll get to her in time." She was inching over to the edge of the line, closer and closer to the small trench where the river divided the territory.
Carlisle spoke in a demanding voice, "Stop this, Victoria! You won't hurt her."
She redhead sneered, "And why is that?"
"I won't let you, not this time," he muttered the last part mostly to himself. He had his hands held out in front of him.
Y/N looked at him only, her eyes flooded with tears, "Carlisle."
He looked at her, a burning in his throat from sorrow and not hunger. He just needed to save her. "It's okay, my love. You'll be okay."
Victoria yanked her back again, closer towards the edge where she threatened to drop her. Carlisle turned back to Victoria, fury in his eyes that seemed so unnatural on him. She taunted, "Might as well say goodbye."
"Not today," he told her, his tone of voice also sounding foreign on him.
"You made the mistake of keeping her human," Victoria laughed wickedly.
"Hey," Y/N said softly, "Carlisle, look at me."
He did, he would always have his eyes on her as much as he possibly could, especially after losing her for so long. This was his second chance, he would not mess this up.
She, on the other hand, wasn't so confident in making it out alive. She swallowed hard, tears staining her face, "Hey, promise me. Promise me you'll move on."
The words hurt him, they cut like a knife as he heard them again. He would not lose her, he couldn't. Not again.
"I don't have to," he told her just as gently.
She looked him in the eyes with a deepness that touched his soul. How he missed her eyes. "Say you love me. Can you do that, please?"
He nodded, he could do that. "I love you, Y/N," he told her. He hadn't told her this last time. He should have.
She smiled, "Carlisle, I love yo-"
Carlisle's eyes widened, he reached out as things seemed to move in slow motion, even for him. Victoria scoffed and shifted, moving to throw Y/N over the edge and over where the river was. He could not lose her again.
He shoved Victoria out of the way and she fled. Carlisle's mind was not on the vampire while he went to grab Y/N, his arms held out in front of him in a lunge for her. She reached out for him, she wanted to grab his hands but she couldn't touch them.
"Carlisle!" She yelled, falling backwards as gravity weighed her down heavily.
He was getting close, he was just inches away from grabbing her. But he was also inches away from the treaty line.
He smelled the beastly thing before he came into view, lunging for Carlisle. His fingertips brushed Y/N's before the wolf caught him and pushed him back on his side of the line.
Carlisle struggled against the wolf's hold, but it was too late. By the time he was able to break free, he looked over the edge and saw her.
Not again.
No, not again.
He rushed to her. The wolf went to attack him again, but stopped short when he realized what happened.
Carlisle was next to her in no time, pulling her bloodied head into his lap, his face contorted in pain and agony. "No!" He yelled, a heart-wrenching cry leaving his throat. He was pissed, he was in pain. He lost her again. He had a second chance to save her, and it didn't work.
She was still dead.
He didn't know how long he would be able to stand this. Knowing he failed twice.
Holding on was a promise he made to her the first time, but he didn't know if he'd be able to keep that promise the second time around. He could only do so much, he could only hold on so much. Without her.
Without her, he didn't feel like he was anything. He didn't feel as though anything mattered anymore.
How was he supposed to bear losing her twice? He could barely do it the first time.
But he'd gotten his second chance.
And the cost was everything.
#carlisle cullen#carlisle cullen x you#carlisle cullen x reader#carlisle cullen x fem!reader#carlisle x reader#cullen#cullen x female reader#twilight#twilight fanfiction#twilight series#twilight x you#fanfic#fanfiction
94 notes
·
View notes