#and then had to wake up three hours later to finish putting all the other shit we had to turn in with it together. was so focused on that i | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

earthtooz · 1 year

Text

x : AFTERGLOW :*+ﾟ it's all me, just don't go !

in which: rin doesn't realise what he has until it's gone. now that you're gone, he will do anything to get you back.

warnings: 5.2k wc, ANGST TO FLUFF, breakup, toxic relationship towards the beginning, rin is really mean to gn!reader, hopeful ending, rin is devastatingly in love and pathetic, reader and rin are adults + he's a soccer player, other characters make an appearance and are friends with reader, mentions of throwing up, mentions of food, both reader and rin cry, just listen to taylor swift's 'afterglow'.

a/n: FINALLY, THIS FIC THAT I STARTED ALL THE WAY BACK IN APRIL IS DONE. GOODNESS. i have mixed feelings towards this piece, but i cannot withhold it from the world any longer. i'm going to forget i ever wrote this and move on! this literally took three drafts to finish.

you don’t know when your relationship with itoshi rin began to crumble since it isn’t an event that can be pinpointed, not a date that can be marked in your calender, and most certainly not a reminder you can set in your phone.

your friends keep telling you that you need to think back on it, that although it hurts, it was a necessary step in healing and getting over him. the more you reflect on it, however, your heart would only shatter into more fragments, with each one piercing you with the memories of better times.

when did his expression turn sour? when did he begin looking at you with such disdain? when did he decide he didn’t need you anymore?

when did rin’s chips of insecurity wedge themselves between you?

the only memory that serves as an answer occurred at 7:00 pm one regular night. if you think hard enough, you can remember how the plush couch cushions sank under your weight, the clicks of the clock that had a second hand minutely too fast, and the sinking feeling of premonition in your gut.

the latest rin ever comes back is 6:00, and if not, he would have let you known why he wasn’t home.

so where was he? the takeout you bought for dinner is getting cold and your stomach is growing louder and more impatient by the second. you didn’t want to eat without him though since it’s something you did daily; eating together as a way of debriefing and letting go of the stress that the day brought.

after an onslaught of unanswered phone calls from you, at 7:15, rin merely texts a ‘won’t be home for a while. eat without me’, and although rin was naturally curt and straightforward, the text had a depravity of… him, somehow. either way, his message causes a swirl of emotions in your stomach; unpleasant ones that begin to grow a nauseous shade of green.

you put rin’s takeaway in the fridge regardless, sending him a quick text telling him to be safe and that you’ll see him soon.

he probably got caught up with something. you’re sure it’ll be fine.

you shouldn’t have ignored that sinking feeling of premonition. shouldn’t have pushed down the unease swirling in your stomach when shutting the door to the refrigerator before stalking over to the kitchen island with slow steps as you prepare to eat in silence. no one to keep you company except your own thoughts and the ghost of rin’s presence.

and when rin does come home almost two hours later, he stills calls your name as usual, you still go to him as usual, he greets you with a tired smile as usual, you hug him as usual, he doesn’t kiss the top of your forehead, though. you ignore it, pushing your thoughts aside because he was home. he finally came back. you’ll wake up tomorrow and this uneasy feeling will sort itself out.

except it doesn’t.

from that night onwards, rin changes. slowly, but surely, the cracks of change manifest in your relationship and through it all, you choose to cast a blind eye, plastering over it with sightless belief in your love.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the queasy feeling in your gut never stills. it fades at times when your mind is busy with other things, but it inevitably gets drawn back into the whirlpool of concern regarding your lover- or, rather, rin.

you think you’re still in a relationship, but you don’t really know anymore. you haven’t seen him in a while. the only indication of his existence that you get are the stray bowls he leaves on the kitchen counter whenever he’s done eating, the lessening weight of his protein powder containers, and the decrease of various food items from the fridge that you restock here and there.

it feels like you’re living with a ghost.

some nights, when it gets the most lonely, your mind betrays you, completely eliminating any and all trust you had in rin.

you wonder if there’s another person. another lover that he feels more passionately for. another lover that his heart had gravitated towards, abandoning yours in the process. perhaps that is the explanation behind his absence.

but no evidence points towards that conclusion. there has been no suspicious deduction of bills from his bank statement that would suggest infidelity, his location is constantly at the sports stadium whenever you check, and there are no traces of a lover on him- not even you.

it is not totally blasphemous to assume that itoshi rin wouldn’t be engrossed in soccer to the point that he’d spend unhealthy and obsessive hours into honing his abilities, but it feels a little traitorous that he could forget about life outside of the sport. it isn’t just you he’s neglecting. his mother and father have been constantly asking when he’ll come over to spend some time together, his teammates have been asking you about rin’s whereabouts and when he’ll be free and what’s worse is that you never know how to answer every time.

it’s embarrassing to be seen as a lover that is forgettable enough for rin to dismiss, so you lie and lie and lie, telling everyone that you’ll tell them later, that he’s fine and just busy, and you lie to yourself. you tell yourself that rin will be home soon so you two can talk about it, and then everything will return to normal.

(your reflection looks through your facade, disheartened and worried.)

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“why are you late?”

you jump at the voice that greets you when you step foot in the apartment and the sight before you causes you to wonder just how tired you feel, because rin is in your apartment, where he’s meant to be, for once. not only that, but he’s leaning against the couch, adorned in loungewear and slippers, and the sight is too foreignly domestic for your comprehension.

coming home to a house with someone there feels nice.

he’s lost a little bit of muscle and fat, but his frame is still as intimidating; shoulders broad and built, just the faintest indicator into the athletic body he’s developed over the years. his hair is a little longer too.

“oh, rin, hi.” you mutter, surprise evident in your tone.

“hello.”

“since i got a promotion,” you respond simply. rin makes no move to approach you, no initiative to take your bag and put it on the couch for you. instead, he stays rooted in his position leaning against the couch, arms crossed.

the air around him feels hostile, and suddenly you’re almost afraid to speak. “and does that promotion change your work hours or something?”

(he doesn’t congratulate or celebrate your achievement.)

“i work with flexible hours now but the office is further and the commute is so bothersome.”

rin uncrosses his arms with a thoughtful hum, gaze glued to the floor, mind occupied. you approach him slowly, pulling your bag off your shoulder and setting it in the entrance near the genkan with a thud, the sound sobering to him.

when he looks back up, you don’t want to acknowledge the emptiness in his icy eyes, barren of the usual determination that defined itoshi rin. but if you knew that that day would be the beginning of the end, perhaps you would have done something about it.

when you opened your arms for him, perhaps you would have hugged him a little tighter, a little longer, strained all the stress out of his shoulders.

perhaps you would have protected him a little harder from the cruelties of his own mind; shown him that the world was not out to get him, and that there was a place for people like him in the world (people who can’t see their own value and instead, berate themselves for their waning self-worth because they cannot see the light behind them).

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“i’m going to shower,” rin declares once the moment both of you step in the safety of your shared home.

“no, you’re not! not before we talk,” you demand, hurriedly taking off your shoes so you can face him before he slips out of your grasp. the dark-haired turns to look at you with an unamused expression, the way tonight seemed to drag on obviously taking a toll on him.

“you’re gonna stop me from taking a shower, really?”

“yes because what the fuck was going on with you tonight?”

he narrows his eyes into slits, the pure intimidation that rin naturally emanates almost threatening you into submission. however, for the humiliation you’ve had to endure tonight, you won’t budge.

“i don’t understand,” rin says monotonously. you roll your eyes.

“you don’t understand? what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i don’t know what you’re getting mad over.”

“the fact that you didn’t even try to talk to me- let alone look at me, once this entire night?”

your partner looks away, crossing his arms over his chest. “that’s an exaggeration,” he huffs.

“no it’s not!” you recall the looks of pity sent your way when rin sat beside you unmoving and unresponsive to any conversation you tried to make. “would it have killed to show you some sort of interest?”

“would it kill you to not receive attention for one night?” he retaliates.

“it’s not about that-”

“really? sure feels like it. i don’t have time to shower you with all my attention, y/n, there are other things i have to do.”

there are a million things you want to say to rin, a million emotions that you have felt whilst he’s been absent, a million examples of how he’s been leaving you behind and how you’re now fed up of keeping these millions to yourself. yet, not a word leaves you, too stunned by the stranger in front of you to voice it all out.

rin, however, takes your silence as defeat and turns to leave.

“you’re being dramatic. i’m going to shower before i waste anymore time with this lukewarm conversation.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the night your relationship officially fell apart is one you still remember vividly, because it only happened a few days ago.

in your memory, the night was nearing 9pm, yet rin had still not come home.

your heart takes you to him because as much as your relationship with him has caused you nothing but pain recently, you know itoshi rin. you know him because you’re soulmates and where he goes, there’s a fragment of your heart that follows.

the drive to the practice pitch is nothing but heavy. heavy with your anticipation and stress, you feel your chest constrict and tighten, especially when you pull up into the very empty parking lot.

“rin!” you shout for the fifth time and only then, does the dark-haired look up at you from where he’s doing dribbling drills. he almost trips over the ball from your interruption.

“wha- oh,” he turns away just before you can catch the roll of his eyes, the snarl of frustration (one that lovers should never bare at each other). “what do you want?”

you pause a few feet away from him, utterly gobsmacked with the attitude your partner was showing you. after driving all this way, the least you’d want is a little concern, but alas.

“it’s time to go,” you stand your ground. “i’m here to pick you up.”

“yeah, right, i’m not going home.”

“that’s ridiculous! are you not tired?”

“no.”

“rin. c’mon, that’s enough, you need to rest.”

“what the fuck do you know about being enough?” he asks.

the silence is deafening and most hurtful.

you stammer out the only response you can, “wh-what?”

he doesn’t give you anything. unrelenting, he is. rin has always been the embodiment of stubbornness served cold. not finding much productivity in his silence, you continue speaking with a wavering voice. “let’s go home. please, you shouldn’t be working yourself like this-”

“-leave me the fuck alone!” he finally comes undone. “can’t you see that i don’t have time to deal with headaches like you?”

the thread keeps unravelling.

“fucking lukewarm. i can’t deal with this right now, i don’t need you here.”

“fine,” you murmur. rin has his back turned against you and he prepares himself to kick another ball. “i’ll leave then since you don’t need me.”

when rin arrives home that night, he reasons the unease churning in his stomach on the physical exertion of practice as nothing is out of place. the apartment is as kept and tidy as it typically is, the lights are off because you’ve gone to bed, and there is a meal on the kitchen counter sealed by plastic wrap.

he won’t eat it because he’ll want to throw up otherwise, so rin tucks it neatly into the fridge, not thinking twice about the emptiness on the shelves, right where your favourite drinks are normally kept.

the athlete washes up quickly and efficiently, a good night’s rest sounding too appealing for his battered body that felt as heavy as lead.

that night, sleep takes rin and lulls him into a temporary sanctuary, protecting him from the reality that he would wake up to. because when morning comes, he will turn and find that you are not beside him like he expects you to be. your side of the bed is untouched, devoid of any warmth or indicator that you were there.

he checks the bathroom- you’re not there. he calls your name in the hallway- you don’t respond. he scans the kitchen, the study, the living room, and finds nothing but loneliness in each room. there’s no text from you indicating that you were elsewhere.

you’ll return, though. rin’s sure of it.

except you don’t, the hours pass by with rin anticipating your return, and his confidence slowly dwindles with each minute. by the time it’s been 24 hours since he last saw you, his patience runs thin. finding your contact, rin presses the ‘call’ button and is surprised that it does not go through, stopping him after only one ring when an automated voice says ‘this caller is unavailable’.

the dark-haired stares at your contact in contempt, furrowing his eyebrows when all of his following attempts receive the same treatment, but rin continues stubbornly because you couldn’t have blocked him, right?

was it because of what he said? he didn’t mean it, he didn’t mean to blow up on you like that- how is he supposed to say sorry if he can’t even reach you?

checking his private accounts on various social media, he sees that you’ve blocked him there too. running in to the master bedroom and checking the closet, half of your clothes are missing, and the bag you keep on the shelf is missing too. the bathroom lacks some of your products, your laptop and various chargers are gone from your study space, and the heaviness of your absence hits itoshi rin like a train.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you never did come around to collect your stuff. rin finds a little bit of pain in that fact.

he feels like a ghost, haunted by the trinkets of you that remain littered around his apartment. he doesn't have the heart to throw them out, not when they're the closest thing to you he can get.

a few times rin sees you in his dreams. a few times he sees you in his nightmares, looking completely hurt and run-down by his recklessness and neglect, but most mornings he wakes up feeling emptier, no one to turn to on your side on the bed. not anymore. there’s no body to hold when he needs it most, there’s no one to keep him company whilst he eats dinner, there’s no love. not since the day you left.

you, on the other hand, find it odd to live life without a second person in the periphery. you thought rin was the one for you, you never had any thoughts about what life could be without him because you were certain that it would be him that you spent the rest of your years with, so learning to accommodate without him is gnawing you away, the little bug of loneliness festing on your newfound independence.

you’re seated on the floor of your best friend’s living room when reo texts one day, interrupting your apartment hunt.

reo: Are you still coming to my party?

you scrunch your eyebrows at the text, unknowing of where it was coming from.

y/n: not anymore. what’s up?

reo: Why not :( reo: Please it’d be so fun

y/n: don’t you know that rin and i broke up?

reo: Ok but he’s definitely not coming reo: It’s Rin, he doesn’t have a life so you’re fine. Pls say you’ll come

reo: Plus he’s been all mopey ever since so I don’t think he’s in a party mood

you dutifully ignore the last part of reo’s statement. after a little more coaxing, he finally manages to get you to agree to come, but not without a feeling of apprehension settling in your gut. still, it would be a shame to miss out on an invitation from a friend because of it.

besides, reo’s bargain of offering to buy your outfit was too tempting to let go.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“practice was rough,” bachira murmurs, flopping on the sides of the soccer field with a sigh. his sweat causes his hair and clothes to cling to his skin, and isagi takes a seat on the bench beside his best friend, tossing the dual-tone haired his water bottle.

wiping the sweat off his forehead, isagi agrees with a hum. “i know. i just want to go home.”

“i don’t know how rin does this, staying overtime and all of that.”

“he’s insane. it only got worse after his breakup and everything.”

bachira frowns, looking over to where the dark-haired in question is standing. “i feel bad for rin-rin, seems like he’s not taking it well at all.”

a beat of silence passes before bachira speaks again. “you know y/n’s coming to reo’s party this weekend?”

the black-haired wipes his mouth before setting the water bottle down. “really?”

“yeah. reo told me.”

“that’s nice, it’s been a while since we’ve seen y/n so it’d be nice to catch up.”

“i wonder if rin knows.”

“i doubt it,” isagi reassures, “he hardly goes to parties like the one reo’s throwing.”

“maybe that’s why y/n agreed in the first place.”

“probably.”

a cold voice suddenly cuts the two from their conversation “y/n’s going to reo’s party?”

isagi feels his blood cool over before looking up. there, stands itoshi rin, who has a frazzled, yet equally determined look in his eyes, one that isagi has not seen in a while (not since you left). “what? no! where did you hear that from?”

bachira laughs nervously, “you’re hearing things, rin-rin!

but they are soccer players, not actors or professional liars. “shut the fuck up, asshats. y/n’s going to reo’s party this weekend?”

the two exchange a look and their silence is the only answer rin needs.

“hold on, you’re not thinking of going, are you?” isagi asks, accepting defeat and now switching tactics.

“why wouldn’t i? my partne-” he pauses. “y/n is gonna be there.”

“yes but-”

“-you can’t stop me from going, so don’t even think about it.”

without another word, rin is gone, stalking away with a scary determination that was previously dormant.

“what did we just do?” bachira mumbles. “should we tell y/n?”

“nah.”

“agreed.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you should have never come to this party.

how stupid and foolish of you, but how utterly cruel of the universe to let you hurt like this, to let the same pain that has walked all over you for the past few months return; this time ramming into you with the ferocity of a bull, knocking the air out of your lungs

“y/n!” comes the dreaded call of your name. you walk a little faster, breaking into an-almost sprint.

“y/n!”

“for fucks sake- y/n!” this cry of your name is broken, rasped and pathetic, and your chests clenches from how pained it sounds. like a howl from an injured wolf, it is broken enough for you to pity it, luring you into a trap that will inevitably end in chunks being torn from your heart, but you don’t have much left to spare, so you keep running, no matter how badly you want to give in.

except it’s not enough to deter rin, nothing ever be when there’s a goal in sight, especially one so close that he can taste it.

“y/n, please, i need to talk to-”

“-go away, rin!” you cut him off, hugging yourself tighter to shield yourself against the cold and rin’s pleas from piercing you.

“not until you listen to me!”

fury powers you, igniting you with the courage to turn around and finally face him. you don’t look him in the eye, keeping your gaze elsewhere, but he shuts up nevertheless, awestruck by finally being able to see you face-to-face after being so long away from you. all words die on his throat, withering away to nothing as his eyes slightly widen in shock.

you’re just as beautiful as the day you left; perhaps even more so.

rin wonders if your radiancy was birthed by his absence, and if the answer is ‘yes’, he might wither away on the spot.

“it’s always about you isn’t it?” you shout. “always about what you want and never about what others want. you said you wanted me to leave, so i did! what more could i possibly give?”

he gulps, utterly entranced as his heart makes itself known in his chest, racing wildly and vividly; the first indication that it was alive and hadn’t been replaced by a gaping hole in your absence. he hasn’t felt this human since you left.

“i didn’t mean for you to actually leave,” rin confesses shakily.

“well, it didn’t seem like you wanted me to stay either.”

“no, that’s not-” he falters. “it’s… not the same without you.”

you hug yourself tighter. “i don’t believe you, you’re just saying that now that there’s nobody to warm your bed.”

“no, it’s not like that- i don’t like living without you,” the athlete continues, admitting something so heavy with such airiness.

“you can’t just say that after so long. not when you’ve been living without me months before we broke up.”

there are a million and one things that rin wants to say to you, but none of them break through the whirlwind that is his thoughts, rattling around in his brain on overdrive and overwhelming him with the intensity of them all. one thing he knows for sure is that you are the single muse behind all of them, the only thing that is keeping him sane amongst the flurry of disturbances.

then, you shiver from the chilly breeze of the night, and the whirlwind is silenced into oblivion to awaken a dormant instinct of his instead. one that commands him to fulfil a duty that he’s not inclined to do anymore.

quickly, rin takes off his jacket and holds it out to you, as if expecting you to take it.

he drops it when you don’t, hope dwindling in his stomach.

swallowing weakly, he then asks “would you ever give me a second chance?”

“you’ll hurt me again,” you glance away, the street lamps highlighting the melancholy in your profile as rin observes you closely. his eyes outline the curves of your face, each divet and slope that he used to trace with his hands now out of his reach. “you take and you take, but you never give and i’m so tired of it.”

“don’t say that,” he pleads, voice barely louder than a whisper as the dark-haired takes a heavy step towards you. “you’ll break my heart.”

“i shouldn’t love you anymore, you’re bad for me.”

“then i’ll be good- i’ll become whatever you want me to be-”

“-we won’t work like that.”

“we’ll work as long as i’m yours again, just, let me fix us, i’ll do whatever it takes. i’m not giving up like this.”

the first tear makes herself known and paths the way for your downfall like a tsunami, washing away whatever you had built up during your time away from itoshi rin; the good and the bad. the hurt and the healing, all undone by a singular, stray tear. in your vision, he becomes nothing but a blur, a kaleidoscope of colours that you once loved.

a kaleidoscope of colours that you still love, much to the chagrin of your broken heart.

a hand wraps around your wrist, a warm shackle that grounds you to rin like he’s your lifeline. no matter how bad you want to push him away, something in you will always bend to him.

“don’t cry,” he pleads, voice airy and breathy. “i’m sorry, please don’t cry.”

please don’t cry because of me.

“i don’t want to be with you if it means i need to go through all of that again.” you whisper, slipping out of his grasp like sand and wiping away your own tears, rejecting his callous and prickly touch.

rin’s world dims as panic seizes his throat. “please don’t say that, you don’t mean it.”

“i do though. you left me first, don’t you know?”

“-i do.”

“and now i’m not yours to care about anymore-”

“i know, i know,” words are merely spilling out of his mouth without much purpose at this point, because he’ll do anything just to delay you leaving, to push back the possibility of you turning around and never seeing you again. why did he have to break who he loved so much?

still, he pleads for another chance, desperation shining in his eyes as pure longing fills him. you have always been too good to him, he knows, but like the tumultuous tides and their inability to stray too far from the shore, rin will come back to you with his undying devotion.

even if he thinks you should find someone better than him, that you should be adored by someone who could love you so much better, he can’t let go. to let you go is to let go the one good thing that came to him in life,

you exhale shakily. “we’ve loved each other for too long.”

“what do you mean?” he stutters, eyes widening helplessly.

“i have loved you too much for too long, rin,” you choke, “there has to be an end to us somewhere in sight- you need to accept that.”

“no,” his look of absolute devastation causes a physical recoil in your stomach. “no- not long enough, it’ll never be enough, fuck- even forever won’t be long enough, i can’t let you go like that.”

he crosses the distance between you in the blink of an eye. you can’t see him clearly under the dim light of the night, but you can feel him, so close and so overwhelming, but so cold as his hands come to grasp yours. his grip is firm, not enough to hurt, but enough for you to feel his determination.

tears dance along his lashline.

“please, tell me you’re still mine,” begs the dark-haired. rin’s tears are diamonds, in which they are precious, but they also crumble into a precious waterfall that rolls down his cheeks, tempting you towards his beautiful ruination.

words continue to tumble out of him, each one sharpened to pierce your defences. “tell me that we’ll be fine, that i’m all you want, please. i’m so fucking sorry for hurting you, but please don’t leave me.

i’ll fix us, i’ll become everything you need, i’ll be good.”

the dark-haired’s hands find their way to your face, cupping each side of your jaw with a scary gentleness; one that you’d never expect from someone as ragged as itoshi rin.

“i love you,” he declares, so raw, so full of passion that it makes you sick. the rin you know never lets his heart on his sleeve like this.

you cave. “how will you fix us?”

slowly. he’ll rebuild everything that you have given him.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

first, rin takes you out on dates again. calls you beautiful and really means it.

second, rin leaves practice at regular times, and listens when you tell him that he needs to take care of himself. because for you, he will.

third, rin picks you up from work. his practice ends a little earlier than your job, so he always goes the extra mile to be there for you at the end of the day. even if you tell him that he doesn’t need to go out of his way to do so, he’d rather see you get home safe than only receiving a mere text of confirmation.

plus, it gives rin more time with you.

fourth, rin sends you regular gifts. from bouquets, to random items that he just knows you’d like, they all get left at your door at the best times.

fifth, rin lets you set the pace. you wanted things to go slow so that you two didn’t have to force anything back in place. no point recreating something that’s in the past, you reasoned, so might as well try again.

sixth, rin takes his time in welcoming you back into his space. it’s a few months after you two have reconciled, and majority of your items are back where they belong (you poked fun at him for not being able to throw away the stuff you did leave, and he just mumbled something indecipherable, all embarrassed, before moving on). the life has been restored in his apartment, now filled with more remnants of you loitering around his space: your various chargers and laptop, your products, your clothes, they all sit beside his things like that’s where they are meant to be.

and you are back in his arms, because it is where you are meant to be (more for his sake than yours).

rin stirs awake one morning under the gentle light of the morning sun and you’re there beside him, occupying the space that he has left devastatingly empty. mattress still curved to your frame as he never dared infiltrate it, in hopes that you would return.

now that you have, you feel too warm, too familiar, too unreal that he wonders if you’re just another dream of his.

then, you stir, and press yourself closer against his chest, face to face with the heart that only beats for you.

a stray tear rolls down rin’s face; a salvation for the utter relief he feels, as well as the overwhelming amount of adoration that he stores for you. his ‘i love you’ is sweeter than the chirping of the birds outside, and certainly more meaningful as he wraps more of himself around your sleeping figure, hoping to attach all of him to all of you.

you’re home. he won’t let you leave again.

#itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #itoshi rin fluff #blue lock fluff #blue lock rin #itoshi x reader #blue lock itoshi rin #itoshi rin drabble #itoshi rin x gn!reader #I HATE THIS SO MUCH

3K notes · View notes

nightsmarish · 1 month

Text

Summary: James has always woken up early, but you and regulus always sleep late

Poly!starchaser x reader (James potter x reader x regulus black) | 674 words

Tw: a cat, James is shirtless, regulus and reader have a little anxiety maybe???, almost a full all-nighter

an: so sorry for no updates! I'm working on a few longer multichapter dc/mcu fics for my other account @nightinthemarsh. Also not a huge fan of this fic tbh

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ

James' alarm is nearly silent due to his fear of waking the other two sleepers in the room. Or at least the other two people that should be asleep.

James went to bed close to eight the night before, the earliest sleeper in the relationship, due to both being a professional quidditch player and waking up at five in the morning. Sitting up and putting on his glasses, it's painfully clear he's alone in the room, bed cold and plushies abandoned on the bed next to him.

The skin between James’ brows crease in concern, slipping pajama pants and his pair of slippers by the left nightstand. Walking out of the bedroom, he notes that most of the lights are off, save for the light that emanates from the living room.

James is nearly quiet as he enters the living room, standing at the bottom of the staircase, but the sight he sees warms his heart. While also causing some worry.

Both you and Regulus are in nearly the exact same spots you were in when James went up to bed, save for the cat that now sits in your lap. A warm glow from two of the lamps allows the two of you to view the puzzle you started the day prior.

The worry in James’ brows never leaves as he walks closer, putting effort into not startling the two of you.

“I thought you guys said you’d be in bed by midnight?” Despite his efforts, both you and Regulus still startle just a bit as you both quickly turn to look at him.

“We were hoping to finish the puzzle.” Regulus tells your shared boyfriend, as if that's the only logical thing to do.

“And we almost have!” James takes his first good look at the puzzle (apart from when he saw it eight hours ago). It was a rather ambitious one, a little over three thousand pieces, but by now it looks close to completion.

“But you really should have headed to bed hours ago.” he crouches down next to the coffee table you both are sitting at to be on your level.

“After we finish the puzzle, right, amour?”

“Of course.”

James looks between the two of you as you return to the puzzle. Part of James feels rather greedy at the moment. Most times when he wakes up, both of you are dead to the world in your shared bed, so he doesn’t see his partners until mid-afternoon or whenever his practice ends.

But, he also knows that the two of you likely don’t get enough sleep as it is, and sometimes that truly concerns him.

“What if we all head back to bed, I can wake back up in an hour or two, and later we can all work on it together.” James’ smile is undeniably warm and his hair is so bloody beautiful all tousled and frizzy, and he's shirtless, and it's so hot and both you and Regulus are extremely weak for this man.

The look you and him share also shows that you both know James could never sit through this puzzle. But the idea of sleeping does sound rather nice.

“Are you sure you are okay with waking up later?” you ask the question both you and Regulus are undoubtedly worried about. Not wanting to impose on James due to your own reckless sleeping habits.

James is slightly distracted as he pets the cat on your lap, the tortoiseshell you lot had decided to get a few weeks ago. “Yeah, it’s fine; it's not a super busy day anyway.”

Sometimes, when he looks up at you, it starts to make sense that his animagus is a stage, because he has the most stunning brown eyes.

Half an hour later the puzzle lay abandoned on the coffee table, cat now laying at the end of the bed, with James two lovers passed out in bed. Even if this isn’t the way his usual mornings go, James couldn’t be happier this morning.

482 notes · View notes

ladykailitha · 7 months

Text

Icarus Part 1

Hello! I know there are a few minutes left of the poll, but there is nothing that could happen in the next 15 minutes that is going to change the outcome.

3 to 1 in favor of the main story first. The only reason I asked, was because that story has been finished a long time, but this one is just getting started. But the masses have spoken.

Original prompt here.

Summary: Eddie and the Corroded Coffin boys made it big right out of high school. So big that Metallica could open for them. Outselling the biggest bands and artists. They are huge. Then a small little indy metal band called The Fallen comes on the scene. They wear hoods and masks and go by aliases. Eddie (and most of the rest of the metal scene) are dismissive of them. More splash then talent.

Only fans don't thinks so. So when Dustin takes him to one of their concerts Eddie learns two things.

One that they are super talented.

And two, that he knows at least of one the members' of the band's real identity.

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @redfreckledwolf @emly03 @itsall-taken

****

Getting out of Hawkins had always been the dream. Being able to do it with three of the best people he had ever had the pleasure of knowing with their music? That was the cherry on top of the icing.

But Eddie never dreamed that Corroded would outsell one his favorite bands of all time. Never even crossed his mind to dream about.

But there it was in black and white. Corroded Coffin was the highest grossing band of the year. Metallica was seventh. Fuck they had outsold Taylor Swift for Christ’s sake.

Barely.

But it still counted damn it!

What was a surprise was the number nineteenth best selling band of the year. A band he’d never heard of before. The Fallen. It said the genre was metal in that little italic font.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

Yeah, it was impossible to listen to every up and coming metal band. But if they had already hit this big with only their second album, surely Eddie would have heard them on the radio.

Only on their last tour Chrissy Cunningham, their beautiful and amazing manager had put an embargo on the radio because the riffs were finding their way into Eddie’s song writing. So he guessed it made sense that he hadn’t heard of them.

So he called the one person he knew who would have all the details on these guys.

“Dusty!” he greeted when the man picked up. Man. Shit, when did they all get so old?

“Eddie!” Dustin greeted back. “Finally back in town?”

Eddie grinned. “You know it. Dude, you know my tour schedule better than Chrissy does.”

“Maybe.”

He laughed. “Guess who hit the top of the most successful metal bands of the decade?”

“Oh my god!” Dustin screamed. “That’s so cool! Is the issue out on stands yet or did you get a sneaky peak for having made it to the top of their list?”

Eddie winced. “Sadly the later. But! I can bring it over to show you when I come to hang out.”

“That’s acceptable,” Dustin said. “Steve just got back in town, too. That label he works for sure does like dragging him all over the world.”

Eddie hummed. “Yeah? Where’d they send him this time?”

“Japan if you can believe it,” Dustin huffed. “He basically came home sometime around midnight and just crashed.”

Eddie didn’t know what Steve and Robin did for the studio, no one did. But the general consensus was that they were dogsbodies of some sort. Getting coffees for execs and stars, driving them places. Just stuff they didn’t want to hire out for, they made Robin and Steve do.

“I won’t be waking him up if I come over, will I?” Eddie asked, biting his lip. He had a crush on the other man. A large one. But fame and fortune kept getting in the way of something more.

“Nah,” Dustin assured him. “He woke up about an hour ago. He’s even showered and eaten. He’ll want to see you as much as I do.”

Eddie very much doubted that, but he was going to take it. “Great! This list is insane, man. I can’t wait for you to see it.”

“Come over for dinner,” Dustin suggested. “We’ll pour over the list over pizza and beer.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe you’re old enough for beer now.”

“Yeah, yeah, old man,” Dustin said. Eddie could feel the eye roll from here.

****

Eddie was watching Steve in interest.

He was walking around like he was used to being in high heels or something, as he would catch himself on his toes and force his feet down on his heels.

He would jump at Dustin throwing open the door. He kept touching his face and rubbing at his throat.

Robin was constantly pushing tea into his hands to get them settle. When they weren’t cradling the tea mugs, they were all over the place. Not just his face. But his back and stomach, too. Rubbing his palms on the front of his jeans.

“Dude!” Dustin hissed. “What is wrong with you? Japan can’t have been that different from America.”

Steve winced from the sound. “Bud, you are seriously being too loud. I told you that I have a migraine.”

Eddie tilted his head. “Hey do you need me to go? Butthead here said you were fine.”

Steve looked up at Eddie and his expression softened. “I’m fine as long as you aren’t yelling like Dusty Buns, here.”

Eddie chuckled. “I hear that. So how was Japan? When me and the boys went a couple years ago it was so beautiful.”

Steve rubbed his forehead between his eyebrows. “I wish I could have seen more of it. It felt like we were running nonstop. At least we aren’t roadies. I don’t think I could do the work they do. They’re the true beating heart of the operation.”

Eddie nodded. “Our last tour we had twelve trucks of roadies and equipment. It was insane.”

Robin grabbed Steve’s cold tea mug and swapped it with a warm one. Steve murmured his thanks. “I’m still not sure if I’m on this time zone yet. And I worry that this fucking migraine may throw me off even further.”

“Is that why Robin is plying you with tea?” Eddie asked. “To keep you awake enough to go bed at the right time?”

Steve nodded, humming contently over the cup of tea. “Nothing caffeinated, not really. Peppermint for the most part, honey lemon, too. She thinks I might be coming down with travelers’ cough.”

Again Steve made an aborted movement toward his face.

“Stop doing that!” Dustin hissed again. “Why do you keep touching your face like that? Did the Tibetan monks curse you or something?”

Robin smacked the back of his head. “That’s China, doofus! And no, no one has been cursed. We had to wear face masks like the surgeons wear for a lot of the trip because there had been a flu outbreak.”

Eddie nodded. “Ooh, yeah. They recommended we wear them too in certain areas, it wouldn’t surprise me if I was that twitchy when we moved to the Australian leg of the tour.”

Dustin eyed Steve warily, like he wasn’t sure if he should believe him or not, but Eddie had backed him up, so Dustin decided to let it go.

For now.

“Where were you touring again?” Steve asked Eddie after taking a long sip from his mug. “South America, wasn’t it?”

“Right in one, big boy,” Eddie enthused. “It was our first time in some of those countries so it was super exciting meeting the people, learning the culture, eating the food. I swear by the end of the tour we had all gained at least ten pounds and that was with us sweating our asses off on stage almost every night.”

Steve winced. “I don’t know how you guys do it, the stage lights we had were merciless.”

“Years and years of practice, Stevie,” Eddie said, “years and years of practice.”

Dustin turned to Eddie. “All right I think I’ve been patient enough, I want to see the top twenty money makers of metal before I vibrate out of my skin.”

Steve laughed and smacked the back of his head. “You know who number one is, why do you care about the other nineteen?”

Eddie shook his head. “Not just metal bands, my weird little friend. But out of all the bands.”

He pulled out the magazine and Dustin snatched it out of his hands, careful not to rip it.

Dustin was furiously reading the list and it was clear that he was looking for someone specific.

“Eureka!” he cried. “I knew it! I knew they were outselling other new metal bands.”

Steve looked over his shoulder. “Yeah? Who’s that, bud?”

“The Fallen!” he cried. “They are so cool man. They have these on stage personas like Daft Punk and they kick ass on stage. I was so bummed when they didn’t come to Pasadena or anywhere near there when they were doing their US leg of their tour.”

Dustin was going to school at Caltech because as much as he wanted to go to MIT his mom was worried about him being by himself, so he moved out to California to move in with Steve.

He was on campus for housing most of the year, but he came home on the weekends and that put Claudia’s mind at rest.

Steve himself had moved out to California a couple of years before. Robin and him had gotten a job at record company and had to move out there to be closer to the headquarters.

Interestingly, or at least to Dustin, Steve’s friends all found jobs out here, too.

“I saw that one,” Eddie was saying. “But I’d never heard of them are they any good?”

Dustin scoffed. “Are they any good? Holy shit are they good.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “They’re a metal band, no offense to Eddie here, but there are only three metal bands on the whole list. Most of them are pop, rap, or country. How good can they be?”

Eddie scoffed and held his hands to his heart. “You wound me!” Then he flopped on the sofa, playing dead.

“That’s what does make them so good, Steve,” Dustin insisted. “Because there are only three metal bands on the list, it means they had to work their asses off twice as hard as the others.”

Eddie popped up. “Yeah, Stevie!” He stuck out his tongue and Steve laughed.

“You got any of the albums?” Steve asked, with a flippant wave of his hand. “If they’re so good, let’s hear them then.”

A shadow crossed over Robin’s face and she looked like she wanted to say something, but couldn’t.

****

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Permanent Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @counting-dollars-counting-stars @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #corroded coffin #rockstar steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson #The Fallen

316 notes · View notes

jiarkives · 3 months

Text

you weren’t mine to lose

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ summary — you should’ve known that you were no match for her.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ character — steve rogers (marvel)

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ content — angst

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ notes — finally, an angst fic 🤭 reader works at shield,,,,, wrote this in one go so some things might not make sense lol the ending felt rushed too idk

When you got into a relationship with the Steve Rogers, you knew he still held Peggy close to his heart. And you understood. Really, you did. You knew from experience how hard it is to let go of your first love, especially since his story with Peggy was cut off abruptly just when it was just getting there.

You didn’t blame him, not one bit. You knew if the roles were reversed, he would have stayed for you too, so you stayed. But looking back, you just wished you had listened to your friends.

Your friends had told you, warned you that it will just end badly for you the moment you told them that Steve was showing interest in you. They had told you to run the other way, but you didn’t.

Your relationship with Steve had been... private. No, scratch that, your relationship with Steve was a secret. On his side, at least. You had spent every waking hour telling your friends about him and how he was as a lover. Meanwhile, his team didn’t even know you knew each other.

You did run in the same circles and worked in the same field, but you never bumped into him at work, never saw each other in public. He made sure of that. He never sought you out, he made sure to avoid your wing and your department.

You were hurt, of course you were, but he was quick to assure you that it was for your own safety, for your own good. He was quick to pull out the hero card, said the world is watching his every move, said he didn’t want you getting caught up in his mess.

And you, a naïve little thing stuck in rose-colored glasses, were quick to forgive him, quick to agree to be his dirty little secret, but looking back, you realized how stupid it all sounded. How incredibly stupid you were to believe him when he told you he didn’t want you getting caught up in his messes. You work in the same field, for heaven’s sake. You see what he sees, sometimes even worse. You deal with the same things he does and he had the nerve to tell you he was protecting you, and you had believed him.

And only when you left did you realize that he wasn’t protecting you; he just didn’t think you were good and strong and competent enough to protect yourself if it all came down to it. He didn’t think you could hold your own, like how Peggy could. Or how Peggy did.

You had stayed with Steve for two, almost three years, before the illusion of your so-called relationship was so rudely shattered by Steve himself.

You had been put in the same mission together for the first and last time. You had watched him from behind the crowd, in the corner of the quinjet. You admired him as he worked, almost completely caught up in his element.

Your heart then lurched when his eyes met yours, but then it cracked when you saw the indifference in them, instead of the softness that you were used to, that you were expecting. You didn’t pay any mind to it. After all, you two were at work. You had to be professional.

The crowd dispersed around him, moving around the cramped jet as they made the necessary preparations, but you remained standing in the corner, still watching him.

Your heart dropped to your stomach when you saw him pull out the familiar gold chain of the locket, then it broke completely when you saw the longing in his eyes as he stared at the photograph of his past lover.

You watched, but you never made a move to approach him.

Then, the mission successfully finished after long, grueling hours. The teams went to celebrate, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. Not when you had witnessed his yearning for his dead lover first hand, not when you finally had a confirmation to your suspicions.

Later that night, behind closed doors, you confronted him. You poured your heart out to him, telling him all about the hurt you felt when he pulled out the locket, how you felt like you were competing with someone who’s six feet under the ground, and how you were losing.

You felt raw and vulnerable as you bared your soul to him. You felt humiliated as you practically begged him to make a space for you in his heart. You felt pity for yourself as you begged to be loved and seen by your supposed lover.

Then, you froze in your spot as he finally broke, towering over you as he told you how he could never love you as much as he loved—and loves—Peggy, how you could never even come close to her, and how you were nothing but a mere distraction, ready to be thrown away the moment he deemed you useless.

But then, you thought that it was your fault for believing him.

You should’ve known that you were no match for her. Not when he buried his heart with her.

310 notes · View notes

tip-top-cloud-surfer · 10 months

Text

Honey, I’m Home - Rooster

Pairing: Rooster / Wife!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Kids; Talk of Pregnancy but Not Actually; Excessive Fluff

Summary: Rooster comes home from work and takes care of his family.

Master List

Rooster was always cautious about the idea of getting married and having kids. When he lost his mom, he pictured having a big family of his own one day. In a way, to recreate the family that he lost. But then adulthood caught up with him and insecurity creeped in. After everything that happened in his childhood, he knew the risks that came with being a naval aviator. He knew what could happen.

But there was no way that he could just let the woman who would go on to become his wife get seduced by some other unworthy sucker. He had to put a ring on her finger. There was no other option. And five years, a wedding, two kids, and a thousand other things in between, there was nothing that Rooster would have done differently.

Except marrying her the night that they met, perhaps.

And returning home after work, Bradley assumed that he would walk into Alex living out his whole terrible two phase even though he was now three while poor baby Nickie cried in the background. Bradley knew that his wife was exhausted. He knew that she was stressed. And he tried to pick up where he could.

But today, he was surprised to return to a quiet house. There was no screaming or crying. Neither the dishwasher nor the washing machine were running. And neither was the TV. Bradley walked further into the house, genuinely wondering if everyone was home when he finally spotted his family.

Nickie was asleep in his bassinet, little fists up by his head just in case if someone tried to wake him up, so that he could give them a smack. His wife laid with her head resting on her arm. Alex laid on his back with his head resting against her chest and his mouth wide open.

Bradley paused, taking more careful steps forward. He didn’t want to risk waking anyone up. They all needed their sleep.

Carefully slipping away, Bradley changed out of his uniform and into a tank top and shorts before moving around the bedroom. Picking up clothes and cleaning the attached bathroom, Bradley tried to help where he could. And when he was finished there, he headed into the kid’s bedrooms to clean up there as well.

He knew that something as small as cleaning up the toys on Alex’s floor would make his wife’s day easier and he tried to do as many small tasks as he could without the risk of waking any of them up. Running a load of laundry, Bradley walked into the living room to check on his family. With everyone still asleep, Bradley kept moving through the rooms in the house.

Checking his watch, Bradley had to assume that it was probably a better idea to just get takeout rather than risk waking his family up by moving the pots and pans around. Carefully grabbing his keys, he headed out to his car. Half an hour later, he returned with food from his wife’s favorite restaurant and slowly crept into the living room again. Everyone was still asleep, but the smell of food seemed to finally rouse his wife.

Picking up her head, she blinked blurrily and squinted towards the kitchen. She sat up a bit before she realized the position that she was in with Alex resting his head against her chest. Rooster walked over to his wife instead, both of them knowing better than to risk waking Alex. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her lips in greeting before pulling away.

“Have a good nap?” he asked softly.

“Seems like it,” she yawned, looking down at Alex with a small smile. “I can’t even remember how we ended up here.”

“I bought dinner. Your favorite.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, resting her head against her arm again as she stared up at her husband. “I didn’t realize how tired I was.”

“They’re a handful.”

“You think?” she replied softly, causing Bradley to grin.

She hummed to herself before Alex started to stir against her chest. After a couple moments, he eventually woke up, whining as he rubbed his eyes dramatically.

“Hey, Bubba, are you hungry?” Rooster questioned, gently picking Alex up.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, curling up against Rooster’s shoulder.

“Alright, let’s get you some food and then back to bed, okay?”

Bradley helped Alex eat his food and once he gave Alex some water to wash it down, got him changed and into bed before Alex could fully wake up and cause a ruckus. Nickie stirred a bit but it didn’t take too much more to settle him to sleep in his crib.

And for the first time in a long time, Bradley and his wife actually sat down and ate dinner together. Just the two of them.

“I almost forgot what this was like,” she mused, reaching for her glass. “It’s been so long since it was just the two of us.”

“You know, maybe I can rope Mav into watching them for a weekend. We’ll go to a nice hotel or rent a house. And just spend the weekend in bed together.”

She shot him a look and playfully threw a scrunched up napkin at his face. Shaking her head, she reached for her glass again.

“Only if you promise to not knock me up again so soon after Nickie,” she stated. “You’ve had that look in your eye like you want another one.”

“I would eventually like another one. Hopefully a girl,” Rooster conceded, though he shot you a reassuring smile. “But you’re the quarterback. You make the final call.”

“I’ll keep you in mind for later,” you told him.

Rooster jokingly made the phone symbol with his hand and mouthed, ‘call me,’ to which you dramatically winked back.

The two of you finished your dinner together before heading up to your room. You took a quick shower while Rooster checked up on Nickie, whose bassinet was set up next to your bed. Rooster was waiting with the blanket pulled back for you. Slipping in beside your husband, you let him pull you to his chest. You were out in about fifteen seconds, still exhausted, and Rooster chuckled to himself when you started to snore, since you insisted that you never ever snored.

Rooster was about to fall asleep himself when there was a light tap on the door. Picking his head up, Rooster gently maneuvered you over so that he could slip out of bed. He walked over to the door and pulled it open to reveal Alex with his blankie in the hallway.

“Can I sleep with you and Mommy?”

“Come here, Bubba,” Rooster urged, scooping him up.

Pressing a kiss to Alex’s head, Rooster carried him over to the bed. Rooster set his son down on the bed and Alex quickly suctioned himself into Rooster’s wife’s side. Rooster brushed his son’s hair with his hand before he climbed back into bed and got himself comfortable. Smiling as he looked over at his family, Rooster rolled over and went to bed.

952 notes · View notes

melagnes · 7 months

Text

PECSA Weekend: One Bed

Synopsis: You are a teacher at Abbott Elementary and Barb knows Melissa has feelings for you. During PECSA weekend, Barb, being sick of the both of you avoiding your feelings for each other, only booked two hotel rooms, leaving you and Mel to share. It is just your luck that there was only one bed...

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Word Count: 2.8K

It had been a regular day at Abbott Elementary; a lovely blend of chaos, humour, and heartwarming moments. You had gotten to school an hour early that day, which left you with the much-needed time to prep your classroom for your students, and most importantly, brew a cup of coffee.

Upon entering the breakroom, you noticed that you weren't the only one who arrived early–Melissa's gaze turned away from the news on the television and focused on you. "Ey, Good Morning early bird. How's it going?" she greeted.

"It will be much better when I wake up with some caffeine. How about you?" you replied.

"Ah, you know Tesoro, I'm feeling quite good but maybe it's the anticipation of seeing you."

You blushed profusely–Melissa never failed to make you blush. The attraction you had for her was so strong, she was always on your mind. Contrary to your belief, but obvious to every single teacher at Abbott, Melissa felt the same about you. She loved to make you blush every chance she got. However, Mel had no idea you felt the same way about her, so she just playfully flirted with you; she didn't push any further since she didn't want to ruin your existing friendship.

"Mel, you're such a sweetheart. I hate to cut this short, but I need to head back to my class and prepare for my students. I'll catch you later at lunch," you said, as you left the room with the biggest smile and your cheeks still pink and warm.

As the weekend approached, anticipation buzzed through the halls of Abbott Elementary–the excitement for PECSA weekend was immense. The annual Pennsylvania Educational Conference for the Southeast Area was a time for teachers to come together to discuss their teaching, but truly, veteran teachers Barbara and Melissa were looking forward to the Math-a-ritas.

However, this year was different. Barbara knew you and Melissa were both whipped out of your minds for each other, and this predicament was quite frankly getting on her nerves. She knew she needed to intervene since the two of you would not get your heads out of your asses.

In the breakroom, the three of you were sitting in your usual places for lunch; Barb beside Mel, and you next to Mel, naturally.

"Well, is everyone excited for PECSA weekend?" Barb asks, humming in excitement.

"Of course," you state with a smile.

Barbara directed her attention towards you, "Which got me thinking... Maybe you should join us? It would be a shame to miss out on all the fun together."

"Oh, uh, I don't know..." you glance toward Melissa, a hint of uncertainty in your expression.

"I'd love to have you join us, Piccola. It'll be fun," Melissa adds.

"As long as I wouldn't be intruding," you reply hesitantly.

"Oh, trust me, you wouldn't be intruding at all! We'd be thrilled to have you join us. It's gonna be a blast, and the more, the merrier, right?" Barbara reassures you, "Plus, I've got a feeling Melissa would be thrilled to have you there."

As Barbara finished her sentence, Melissa shot her a playful scowl, her cheeks flushing slightly.

You couldn't help but grin at Melissa's reaction, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest at the thought of spending more time with her outside of school. "Well, if Melissa insists, who am I to refuse?" you say with a playful wink.

Melissa rolled her eyes, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her true feelings.

Barbara knowingly chuckles at the exchange, pleased with herself for putting the beginning stages of her plan in motion. "Great! It's settled then. PECSA weekend, here we come!"

The weekend has commenced and you found yourself packed and ready to go, excitement bubbling in your chest. When you heard a knock at your front door indicating Melissa's arrival to pick you up, you couldn't shake the nervous anticipation that swirled within you. The prospect of spending the weekend with Melissa was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking.

When you opened the door, your breath caught in your throat, "Hey Mel." It was a reflex; whenever you saw her, her mere presence always left you momentarily speechless.

"Ya ready to hit the road?" she asked, her smile infectious.

"Absolutely, thanks for picking me up," you state gratefully.

After you put your bag in the trunk and crawled into the back seat of the car, your voyage to PECSA commenced. The atmosphere was relaxed as Melissa took the wheel, with Barb in the passenger seat beside her. Without much time at all, the two of them fell into their all too recognizable banter.

Sensing the opportunity, Barbara leaned back in her seat with a glint in her eye. "You know," she began, her voice laced with humour, "I suggest that you all drop your vices and take a hit of my drug of choice — J.E.S.U.S. Street name: Christ" she exclaims.

Melissa raised an eyebrow, feigning offence. "Uh, you've been known to demolish those little bottles of Chardonnay."

"And you snort that liquid marijuana." Barbara countered.

Their teasing sent you into a choke of laughter. Although amusing, their witty remarks settled a familiar ambiance you all appreciated.

As you sank deeper into the back seat, you found yourself stealing glances at Mel in the rearview mirror, unable to resist admiring her effortless beauty. It is unfair that one could look as good as Mel, while simply operating a motor vehicle.

Once you reached the hotel and the car was parked, you and Melissa unloaded the luggage, while Barbara went to the front desk to get your room keys.

When you walk into the hotel, you are met with a concerned-looking Barb, "It seems there's been a mix-up regarding the number of rooms booked, and unfortunately, there are only two rooms available."

In reality, this mix-up was not an accident–it was part of Barb's master plan to push you and Mel beyond the boundary of friendship. "Apologies for the mix-up, everyone. Now, how should we-"

"We can share," Melissa cuts her off while linking arms with you.

You felt your cheeks flush with heat as you exchanged a nervous glance with Melissa. "Yeah, of course."

"Perfect, it's settled then," Barbara handed you the room key and winked knowingly at the two of you before heading off to her room, leaving you and Melissa standing awkwardly in the hallway.

Taking a deep breath, you turned to Melissa with a hesitant smile. "So, I guess we're roommates for the weekend."

Melissa returned your smile, her expression softening. "Yeah, looks like it. Should be interesting."

As your shoulders lightly brushed against each other, you both navigated the hallway, tracing the numbered signs until your room came into view.

As you both stepped into the hotel room, a peculiar realization dawned upon you–there was only one bed. Your heart quickened as your gaze involuntarily shifted towards Melissa.

"So, uh, any preferences on who gets the bed?" you asked, attempting to ease the tension that hung in the air.

Melissa responded with a nonchalant shrug, "Well, there's only one, so I guess we'll have to share. No one wants to sleep on the floor, right?"

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, but you tried to play it cool. "Right, makes sense."

You were doomed.

Melissa broke the silence with a suggestion, "How about we head down to the pool and grab some drinks?"

"I'm in," you replied without hesitation. You knew a drink would be necessary to steady your nerves, especially with the prospect of sharing a bed with the woman you were in love with.

As you descended to the poolside, Barb was already there, greeting you both with a playful smirk adorning her lips. "Well, well, well, look who finally decided to join the party," she teased, raising an eyebrow at the two of you.

After taking a seat beside Barbara, a server approached with a tray of drinks. Melissa swiftly snagged a couple of Math-a-ritas, passing one to you with a wink.

"Here's to PECSA weekend," she declared, raising her glass in a toast.

You clinked your drink against hers, a grin spreading across your face. "To PECSA weekend."

After a couple of drinks in your system, tearing your eyes away from Melissa became an increasingly grueling task. Bathed in the golden hue of the sun, she seemed to exude an otherworldly allure, her features accentuated by the gentle light.

It was as if every glance only served to deepen the spell she unknowingly cast upon you. From the delicate way she brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, to the infectious sound of her laughter, each moment spent in her presence seemed to send you further into the depths of your emotions. Melissa was more than just attractive; she was captivating, a force that left you unable to break free from the mesmerizing hold she had over you.

"Hey, you okay?" Mel asked, shaking you out of your trance with a hint of concern in her voice as she noticed your distant expression. She had caught you staring.

"Yeah, sorry about that," you replied, offering her a sheepish smile. "Just lost in thought for a moment."

Melissa grinned, her eyes laced with amusement. "Must have been some pretty deep thoughts," she teased, giving you a playful nudge.

You chuckled, as you felt a flush of embarrassment creep onto your cheeks. "Just admiring the view," you said, gesturing vaguely to the poolside surroundings.

Her laughter rang out, a melodic sound that filled the air. "Well, I can't say I blame you."

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter and conversation between the three of you, but eventually, the time came for you and Melissa to retire to your shared room for the evening.

After preparing for bed, you found yourselves lying side by side under the covers, a palpable tension hanging in the air. Despite the deepening connection between you, there was an unspoken understanding that crossing certain boundaries could jeopardize the precious bond you shared.

Something unbeknownst to you, however, beneath Melissa's tough exterior lay a secret longing for intimacy–a desire to break down the barriers between you and bask in the comfort of your embrace.

To your surprise, as you lay there, you felt Melissa's arm snake around your waist. This caused you to immediately tense up, your heart pounding in your ears as conflicting emotions engulfed you. On one hand, you've always wanted this—longed for the closeness and affection that Melissa's touch promised. But on the other hand, her unexpected move left you feeling confused and uncertain.

As Melissa's warmth seeped into your skin, you couldn't help but wonder about the implications of her actions. Was Mel attracted to you? Or was this simply a gesture of platonic affection? The questions floated in your mind, but before you could voice your thoughts, Melissa shifted closer, her breath ghosting over your ear as she whispered softly, "Is this okay?"

Her words send a shiver down your spine, the tenderness in her voice melted away your doubts and fears. With a hesitant nod and a whispered "yes," you surrendered to her embrace, gently placing your hand atop hers, allowing the warmth and intimacy of the moment to envelop you.

As the night wore on, neither of you could sleep, your feelings occupying your minds and you couldn't take it anymore, in a moment of recklessness, you turned towards Mel so your chests were pressed against each other and your eyes locked. Your breath hitched as you lowered your gaze to her lips, savouring the sight of their softness, their allure drawing you in. When your eyes flick back to meet hers, you're met with dilated pupils, a silent invitation that ignited a firestorm of desire within you.

With a trembling hand, you slowly tangled your fingers into her fiery red hair, relishing the silky texture beneath your touch. Your heart pounded in your ears, the anticipation reaching a peak as you guided your mouths together with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

Melissa tensed at the suddenness of your action, and for a split second, you feared you'd made a mistake.

"Mel, I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-" But before you could apologize, she surprised you by pulling you back to her lips with an urgency that matched your own. The kiss was warm and passionate. And as you lost yourself in the intoxicating taste of her lips, you realized that this is where you were always meant to be—wrapped in her arms.

"I've been wanting to do that for so long," Melissa confessed after you broke apart, her voice barely above a whisper.

You couldn't help but smile, the weight of her words lifting a burden from your shoulders. "Me too," you admitted, your heart overflowing with emotion.

And as you lay together, wrapped in each other's embrace, you knew that this was just the beginning of a love that would last a lifetime.

The morning light filtered delicately through the curtains, casting a soft glow upon the tangled sheets where you and Melissa lay intertwined. With a contented sigh, you shifted closer to her, savouring the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest against yours. As if stirred by your movement, her eyes fluttered open.

"Good morning," you whispered softly, brushing a stray strand of auburn hair behind her ear.

"Morning," Mel murmured, her voice husky with sleep as she tightened her embrace around you.

For a fleeting moment, you lay there basking in the intimacy of the morning, the outside world fading into insignificance.

"I could stay like this forever," Mel confessed softly, her breath warm against your neck.

Your heart fluttered at her words, a blush rising to your cheeks as you pressed a gentle kiss to her temple.

"I mean... I wouldn't mind that" you admitted shyly, your lips grazing against her skin. "But we should probably get up soon," you chuckled, the reality of the day's plans creeping back into your consciousness. "Barb will likely be waiting to have breakfast before we head home."

"Yeah, I know," Mel sighed, reluctantly releasing you from her hold.

"But can we stay like this just a little while longer?" she groaned, her voice laden with desire, before drawing you into a kiss that ignited with a slow ecstasy. Your lips traced a path to Mel's neck, planting a series of tender kisses that culminated in a gentle bite, eliciting a whimper from her.

As she trailed kisses down your neck in response, a soft moan escaped your lips prompting her to shift her focus. She captured your mouth with hers, her tongue delving deep into your mouth. Your hand instinctively slid up her back beneath her shirt, caressing and exploring the warmth of her skin. It took every ounce of willpower to pull away from her at that moment. You stare at her, both of your breaths coming ragged as you met Mel's gaze, both of you wide-eyed and flushed with desire.

"Mel... it's time to go to brunch," you managed, your voice strained with longing. "I can guarantee you, there will be more of this later," you added with a suggestive nod toward the tousled sheets.

"Fine," Melissa huffs, playfully rolling her eyes, but a smile still plastered on her lips.

But before she could get out of bed, you grabbed her arm, "I'm glad this happened you know," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've seriously had my eyes on you since I started working at Abbott. I was losing it seeing you come into work every day looking so good and I had to pretend as if I didn't notice."

"Is that so... well, I'll be sure to give you something to notice next time we're at work," Mel smirks at you and smacks your ass as she untangles herself from you in favour of getting dressed.

Later, at brunch, Barbara's eyes widened in surprise as she took in the scene before her. Her gaze flicked between you and Melissa, her lips curling into a mischievous smile as she noticed the telltale marks scattered across both of your necks.

"Looks like someone had a good night," she teased, her tone laced with amusement.

Confusion gave way to recognition as you noticed the purple bruises scattered across Mel's neck, and her eyes widened as she noticed similar marks on yours.

A silent understanding passed between the two of you as Melissa chuckled softly, leaning in closer to you as she reached for her coffee. "We may have gotten a little carried away," she admits with a wink.

Barbara laughed, shaking her head in amusement. "Well, I'm glad to see you two are finally getting your act together," she says, her tone affectionate. "It's about time."

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x y/n #abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #one bed trope #wlw #x reader

364 notes · View notes

delulustateofmind · 6 months

Text

Title: Between Worlds Part I

I’ve never written fan fiction before but here we go :) inspired by: I stole the duke’s first night

Summary: Reader wakes up in ACOTAR a year after the war with Hybern. A bunch of events happen that leads to them waking up in a one night stand with Azriel

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five: Coming soon!

Trigger warnings: mention of death (reader’s previous life), alcohol, mentions of cheating, sexual implications, poor decisions. angst in the beginning. Let me know if I’m missing any!

word count: 2k

****

Before the jump of reality:

I had just got home after a long day of work, stumbling into my apartment that I shared with my boyfriend. I was in the middle of taking off my shoes when I notice another set of shoes that neither of us owned. After finishing setting my things down, I walk towards our bedroom. Sounds of giggles escaping our bedroom, I feel my gut harden, there’s no way.

There it was my best friend and my boyfriend in bed together wrapped up in the sheets. My boyfriend’s smile faded when he met my gaze, his own face turning into pure shock.

“Y/n what are you doing home so early, I thought you wouldn’t be home for a few more hours,” my boyfriend said in a trembling voice. My friend on the other hand gave me a look of shock before stating,

“Y/n I swear it’s not what it looks like, we were drinking together and one thing led to another. I swear…I wouldn’t do that to you,” my best friend breathed, her voice sounding pleading as she was frantically putting on her clothes.

I stood there, not knowing what to do as the tears rolled down my face. My boyfriend, the one that stayed with me through all of my hardships. My best friend that was my ride or die. The people I trusted the most. Together in bed.

Without a thought I ran out of the room. My tears blocking my vision. I ran out of the apartment, down the stairs. I had to just get out of here. I didn’t care that I had no shoes on, I didn’t care that I left my keys at home.

I stopped running when I noticed I was in the middle of the street and a truck coming straight at me. A bright light cleared my vision and I was out cold.

The next moment, I woke up, my head had a raging headache. Sunlight creeped my windows, the smell of misty and pine trees filled the room. I took a deep breath, was it just a nightmare? Taking in my surroundings, this is not my room. Before freaking out I met the gaze of a maid.

“Miss. Y/n, we don’t have all day. We have a really busy day today especially if you plan on meeting with your friends at Rita’s later tonight,” she said as she opened the curtains, letting more sunlight fill the room.

“Where am I?” My voice came out as a trembling whisper. I could feel a lump in my throat. The thoughts in my head pounding as I looked at the maid. “How do you know my name?” I managed to force out.

My maid huffed and gave me a smirk. “Miss Y/n, we don’t have time for your silly games like usual. You have a dress fitting in an hour, we cannot be late this time,” she walked over to me, noticing my paleness. The maid tilted her head.

“Are you feeling okay? You look awfully pale and almost like you’re about to cry,” her voice once filled with amusement was turning into concern.

The panic seeped in as I looked at her pleading. “I’m going to sound crazy, but I have no idea who you are. Where I am and how you know my name.”

The maid looked at me with concern as she placed her palm on my head to check for a fever. “You don’t have a fever…Y/n, you’re in Velaris. Remember, we just got back from a trip to the summer court last night.” The maid's voice was full of concern as she checked my body. “Perhaps the travel overwhelmed you…let me bring you some water,” the maid claimed as she left quickly.

Velaris? Like the city in A Court of Thorns and Roses? There’s no way I’m in Velaris. This is just a terrible dream…right?

I look around the room, it was a delicate pink room. Giving the impression of a humble noble daughter’s room. I get out of bed, I’m wearing what seems to be a long night gown made of silk. There’s no way this is real. As I move across the room to investigate my surroundings, I stub my toe on the table, murmuring curses to myself.

Yep, this is real. That should have woken me.

After my maid came back, gave me water and bread as I ate, she talked about what we had to do today. I had a dress fitting for the new season. I was to also meet some friends for some drinks. With the information I was gathering, I was the only child to one of the city officials, a relatively minor character. Classified to be some form of a noble but not highly ranked where I would ever run into any of the major characters.

A Court of Thorns and Roses, the book series that I would often reread a billion times. A comfort series of sorts. The world that I’m now in…how did this happen?

As my maid got me ready for the day, a concerned expression still settled on her face. I pondered some things, making a mental checklist of the information I know so far based off of my conversation with my maid.

The war with Hybern is over, it has been a year since then. Meaning the Valkyrie hasn’t been established. Feyre wasn’t pregnant yet. I have no magic, I have some small healing abilities but that’s the only thing I have going on for me. While in my world, I had no parents. It seems in this one I actually have decent parents that care and spoil me. Leading to the fact that I run a bookstore with a coffee shop that they bought for me as a graduation present. The friends that I’m meeting up with tonight are of higher status than myself. Often times we go to Rita’s together to catch up.

After she finished getting me ready, the dressmaker arrived and took my measurements and such. Creating a dress for Starfall was not an easy feat, especially if I wanted to catch the eye of suitors. My dressmaker claimed. I rolled my eyes at that comment. I wasn’t sure how long I would be in this world for, but given how my life is set up here. I want it to be an easy life of relaxation compared to my original world.

******

After what seemed like hours upon hours of trying on dresses and getting sized. I was finally done with that task of the day and meeting my friends.

The first girl I met, standing outside Rita’s with a big grin, was apparently my roommate from boarding school. Dark curls lined her tan face. She stood a bit taller than myself, wearing pants and an oversized button up shirt. ‘Rose’ was her name as she pulled me into a hug.

“Y/n it’s been too long! How was summer court? I heard their beaches are beautiful” she gave me a warm smile before looking at our other friend that was walking over. “Hazel! Y/n wasn’t late this time. Isn’t that a shock!” Rose exclaimed.

‘Hazel’ was your typically shy girl. Plain looking but had gentle features. Straight dark brown hair that flowed to her waist and large circular glasses that seemed to cover her beautiful blue eyes. Hazel gave me a warm smile. Apparently she helps me with my bookshop.

“Y/n! We’ve been so busy while you were gone. I’m glad you’re back though!” She gave me a gentle smile.

I gave them both a smile, Rose seemed to notice something was off but shrugged it off before dragging us all into Rita’s. My stomach was turning, how long could I play into this facade without getting caught?

It was interesting to see the pleasure hall from the books. I planted a fake smile to my face, trying not to focus on the unsettling notion that I am currently inside my favorite book series. Music coated the halls as Rose pushed us to a table and claimed she would bring us some drinks. Hazel sat with me quietly as we both observed the room. Waiting for our extroverted friend to come back.

If I remember correctly the main character that comes here frequently is Mor but what are the odds of her bringing the whole inner circle here. While I was deep in thought, I didn’t notice the beer that my friend put in front of me.

“Let’s get wasted until sunrise!” Rose explained before clinking glasses with the rest of us.

As the night went on, we had a blast chatting about random topics. Rose was apart of the guard, one of the few females that is working towards becoming a knight. She shared stories of her training.

Hazel was sharing stories of her work, writing a novel about a princess falling in love with a dragon. Clearly it had some smut, which Hazel blushed about as she went into detail about certain scenes. A book that I can clearly imagine Nesta purchasing in the future.

I decided to take our drinking up a notch, teaching the girls on how to make a sake bomber. Which clearly brought some attention when a few males came over and chatted with us. Before I knew it, I was black out drunk and dancing with a beautiful man with hazel eyes. From the drinking, it seems my vision was awful, because I couldn’t notice the large wings behind him. My gaze could only focus on his hypnotizing eyes.

In a voice that sounded like a melody made for my ears I hear the words, “Shall we get out of here?” The male whispered in a low tone. I gave a nod, why not? Perhaps I will be waking up in the morning back in my world.

****

Wrong. I did not wake up in my world. I woke up with a man wrapping his arm around my waist. A wing draped over us and the feeling of hot breath behind my neck. Shadows kissed my cheeks. My stomach tightened, shadows, that could only be one male that I could think of.

All I remember is dancing and going home with this man. One of which, was the one with gorgeous hazel eyes that seemed to pierce my soul. Instead of turning over to get a better look at the man, I slowly moved out of the bed, unwrapping his hand from my waist. Anxiety creeping my body, causing my hands to tremble.

“You going somewhere?” A small smile formed on the male’s lips when I turned to look back at him.

This male was no other than the spymaster for the Night Court. His dark hair a mess, his hazel eyes had a sleepy gleam to them. A smirk on his lips that spoke of mischief. Azriel was more beautiful than ever described in the books. This male looked like a god that I wanted to worship to the end of my days.

I wasn’t able to form words, my mouth opened but nothing came out. I looked at him with a shocked expression.

“Y/n? I asked you a question, you wouldn’t be trying to leave me would you?” He asked playfully. “Because, trying to sneak away from the spymaster would not be an easy feat, my love,” his catlike grin as he pulled me back into an embrace.

My mind was in full-on panic, I wanted an easy life, I was fine without meeting the characters. I was fine just living on the sidelines. Yet, here I was in the arms of one of the most dangerous man in all of Prythian.

“Did we…you know,” I muttered sheepishly as I felt a blush creep my face. I was no stranger to one-night stands, but when it came to a one-night stand with my favorite character, that was a whole other story. The very thought made my anxiety heightened.

Azriel held in a laugh, “we almost did until you…passed out. You kept telling me how pretty and misunderstood I was…as if you knew everything about me,” he claimed softly. “I don’t believe we’ve met before, love,” his thumb brushed along my bare skin.

A flash of drunken flashbacks came back. One of which, where I was crying to him about how misunderstood he is. That he’s not a monster and deserves all of the love in the world. That this beautiful man is a necessary evil.

Azriel pulled me out of my thoughts as he shifted in the bed to get a look at my face. Grabbing a strand of hair as he looked down at me with a warm expression.

“You don’t plan on leaving me, after last night do you?” He murmured in a voice that dripped like honey. His eyes looked like the belonged to a pleading puppy.

I'm screwed.

“If I were trying to leave…would that upset you?” I gazed up at him sheepishly.

“Of course, I wouldn’t want my mate to leave me,” he grinned like a cat watching its prey squirm.

Wait…mate?!

#acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #light angst

126 notes · View notes

merrybloomwrites · 6 months

Text

I Feel the Earth Move

Summary: Y/N experiences her first earthquake and her long distance boyfriend, Spencer, needs to know she's alright.

Word Count: 665

AN: I put a post out the other day that showed there's interest in Spencer stories. And then I felt an earthquake for the first time and got inspired to write this. Just a little story to get into the swing of writing for Spencer.

CW: earthquake

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

One of the first things you had talked to Spencer about when you started dating was your shared experiences with hurricanes. Bit of a random topic, but with him being from Florida and you being from New Jersey, it was something you had in common. He then told you about the couple of earthquakes he’d experienced since moving out to Los Angeles. A tiny part of you was slightly jealous, but mostly you were happy you live in a place where the ground stays still at all times.

You’ve been dating Spencer for ten months now, but unfortunately, you’ve been long distance the whole time. Being on opposite coasts with a three-hour time difference makes things more complicated, but you’re looking forward to the near future when you finally get to move out to California. You work as a teacher and just need to finish the current school year and then you’re on your way to Los Angeles. You even have a new job and apartment lined up. Spencer sends texts nearly every day counting down until you’ll finally live in the same city.

It's early April, and your school is on Spring Break. You spent the week catching up on things you had been putting off, like doctor’s appointments and deep cleaning your closets. But now it’s Friday, and your to-do list is done. You’re having a lazy morning at home, sitting and watching some new Smosh videos that you hadn’t gotten a chance to see yet.

Suddenly you hear the hallway door rattling. For a second you think it must be the wind, but then the floor starts to shake. Next thing you know everything is rattling. It only lasts a few seconds and leaves you just standing in the middle of your living room, wondering what the hell just happened.

You think that it might’ve been an earthquake, but that would be ridiculous. Because that doesn’t happen where you live.

But then your mom texts the family group chat asking if everyone felt that. Your brother, sister, and dad all text back saying they had. You do a quick google search and within minutes you find the confirmation that it was in fact an earthquake, so you share the link with your family.

The first person you want to tell is Spencer, but it’s not even 8 in the morning in California. You know he doesn’t need to be at work until later in the day and is likely still sleeping. You’ll wait a bit before texting him, so you don’t wake him up.

Twenty minutes later your phone starts ringing, and you’re surprised to see Spencer’s name pop up.

“Hey, what are you doing up so early?” You say as a greeting.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Of course I’m okay,” you reply.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the earthquake?”

“I was going to, I just wanted to wait a little while, so I wouldn’t wake you. How did you find out about it?”

“Like, eight different people from work texted me to ask if you lived where the earthquake happened. Y/N, you’re like, a mile from the epicenter. I needed to check that you’re alright.”

You’re overwhelmed with emotion at this, hearing how much he cares, and how worried he was about you.

“I’m okay Spencer, I promise. It wasn’t that bad. Honestly I was more confused than scared,” you reply.

“Well then we need to work on your survival instincts before you come to California,” he says, causing you both to laugh.

“Thank you for checking in on me,” you say.

“I’ll always make sure you’re safe,” he replies. Your heart melts again, and you can’t believe that he’s real. And that he’s really yours.

“I love you,” you say, unable to express your feelings at this moment in any other way.

“I love you too,” he replies, voice full of sincerity.

“Only 86 more days,” you state, giving him the countdown today.

“I can’t wait, baby.”

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

AN: Thanks for reading! This is was just a little warm up to writing for Spencer. Please send me any requests you have for him! Also, please lmk if you'd like to be added to a taglist for all my Spencer stories!

#spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew

121 notes · View notes

seospicybin · 2 years

Text

PLUTO.

PART I

Chapters: Part II / Epilogue

Hyunjin x reader. (s,a)

Synopsis: Knowing that your life will end soon, you choose to have your desired death by making a pact with the devil with a red hair, Hyunjin. (16,7k words)

Author's note: This was supposed to be a Halloween fic but it seems like New Year is the perfect time to release it. It's about renewal and awakening but with a little bit of chaos in it.

Warning: Mentions sulcidal thoughts and may be triggering. Reader discretion is advised!

Which one is worse: Living or dying first?

You asked yourself as you stood there rethinking all of your decisions that led to this.

A gust of wind blowing your white dress, cold and harsh, like a slap in the face.

You let out a heavy sigh, the steam of your breath formed a curl of white smoke against the dark of the night.

You looked down, down below from the top of the building where everything seemed so small and people looked like specks of dust, looked down beyond your quivering feet, so high you couldn't even see the bottom, the concrete that would welcome you when you plunge to your death.

Was it a good decision? You asked yourself.

Death is easy.

A stab to the heart, a drop of poison, a cardiac arrest, a hypoxia.

Life is hard.

You wake up to another day of a mundane, dull life, work, home, sleep, eat, sigh and do it all over again the next day. Life is pain itself and everybody dies at the end.

You either die now or later, what makes the difference?

All you need was one jump then it's all over.

Death is that easy.

You took a shaky breath, whether it was from the cold or the fear creeping from the inside, a survival instinct in you that told you to get off the ledge and into the safe side.

You carefully put your leg up and are ready to leap, your mind went blank.

You screamed at the vast night sky because the silence got too deafening then like your brain betrayed you, shut you down before you make the worst mistake of your life, you got off the ledge.

You almost slipped and fell off the top of the building just like how you planned, but you found a hand that grabbed yours. Slender fingers decorated with metal rings, pale and hot to the touch, wrapped around your waist, holding you from falling, from death.

He helped you get off the ledge by lifting you by the waist then put you down gently, away from the edge of the building.

"You're hot," you said.

"It's not the first time I heard that," he said with a teeth-baring grin.

You shook your head, "I mean, you're literally hot," you corrected yourself, it was like he had spent hours by the fire and absorbed all of the heat.

He didn't reply but shoved his hands into the pocket of his dress pants.

"How ironic!" He suddenly said.

"An angel," he said, pointing to you who was dressed in an angel costume with its halo headband, "and a devil," he said, placing his hand on his chest to present himself, "met on a rooftop of a building,"

Your eyes were blurry with tears that made you realize that you were crying, cheeks wet and flushed from the cold.

"An angel about to fall but the devil helps her get off the ledge," he finished.

Did he see everything?

You roughly wiped your tears to see him better.

He was wearing a three-piece suit as black as the night, long hair, slicked back, red like hellfire. He has a small face, pale white skin, and small but smoldering eyes, then the lips, red and plump, like a cherry.

He looked at you with his head slightly tilted to the side, observing you like you were an object that intrigued his mind.

And if he weren't blinking, you would have mistaken him as a statue, a perfectly carved marble statue more beautiful than David by Michelangelo.

"Why don't I buy you some drinks and you can tell me how you got here?" He offered, one corner of his mouth raised higher than the other, forming a sinister smile.

You hugged yourself, either your body was seeking warmth or trying to comfort yourself, considering his offer like solving a math problem.

And he took a step closer, held out his hand at you.

You were slightly shivering from the cold, you started to get a runny nose and the invitation suddenly got so tempting, knowing that his hand would offer you some warmth.

You nodded and let him lead you back inside.

He didn't take you back to the Halloween party your company was having, he took you somewhere else, an empty lounge bar that you didn't know even existed in the building.

He welcomed you to sit on one of the stools that face the counter then he stood, took his suit jacket off in an elegant manner, folded it then placed it on the next stool next to you.

He smiled when he caught you watching him rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows without blinking, he spared you from being embarrassed by hurriedly going behind the counter.

He put his hands on the counter and leaned forward at you, "what do you want to drink?" He asked you with eyes pierced right into yours.

"Anything," you answered. You couldn't decide when it felt like all the knowledge in your brain suddenly vanished when he looked at you dead in the eyes like that.

He squinted his eyes as he thought of something to make for you.

"I think I know the perfect drink for you," he said then went on to grab everything.

It was so riveting, seeing him gathering all the ingredients and pouring them one by one into a shaker: ice, red liquid, red-colored syrup, and vodka, finished it with a spritz of lemon.

He started shaking all the mixture together, shaking your thoughts away then hurriedly clearing your throat.

"Are you working here?" You asked.

He cracked a mystifying laugh at you but not answering your question.

He placed a glass on top of the counter and then poured the cocktails into it, seamlessly without spilling a drop.

For the garnish, he put raspberries in a stick into the glass then presented it to you, and slid the glass right in front of you.

The red cocktail sparkling in the dim light, you lifted it close enough to take a sniff of the sweet-smelling drink.

You glanced up at him and he bat his eyelash at you, giving you permission to drink.

You took a careful sip, it was a bit sour, a bit bitter but it was sweet in the end.

You have to admit that he has a prowess for bartending.

"This is good!" You praised him as he cleaned up the counter.

"What it's called?"

"A love potion," he playfully answered.

You blinked a few times, thinking you misheard him.

He laughed, "it's just a raspberry martini!"

He picked up a cherry from a bowl, stuck his tongue just enough to put it on it, bite the stem between his teeth then pulled it out.

"Do you like it?" He asked.

Once again, you got caught ogling over him doing such a mundane thing as eating a cherry.

"I like it," you said, whether he asked about the drink or the scene that just happened in front of you.

He poured himself a drink, a whiskey and you could feel the alcohol burnt your tongue as he filled the glass half full, then added an ice cube.

He went to sit next to you, took a sip of his drink once he was seated then placed the glass on the counter, the ice made a clinking sound inside the glass as he moves.

You clank your drinks together then took sips of your drinks at the same time and it was getting sweeter the more you drink your cocktail.

"If you don't mind me asking, how did you get there?" He asked, licking his lower lip that made it even more luscious, inviting you to get a taste.

"I don't know. Desperation, I guess," you answered with low giggles. It baffled you that you got to act like that around a stranger you met barely an hour ago.

"Why would a beautiful girl like you be that desperate?" He asked with eyes that secretly assessed you like you were a Rubik's cube that needs to be solved.

"I'm dying," you shortly replied as you stared deep into your drink.

"Figuratively?" He asked.

You laughed but skipped on answering.

"You must think I'm dramatic," you said, you weren't even going to try to shoot your shot. You have no chance with him, there's no use in trying.

"No," he strongly denied yet his voice remained low and calm.

"There's nothing dramatic in letting yourself deep in your feelings," he added.

You looked at him or braved yourself to do so, for a few seconds before looking away.

"I just want it to end," you said.

It surprised you that the words fell out of your mouth like that, you blamed it on the drink but you saw that he only put a shot of vodka in it. There was no way you let loose like this without being drunk first.

"I just want to end my life my way," you said to him, correcting your first statement.

"I'm conflicted because if I do it, my parents will get sad," you explained, "but I don't want to wait for my life to end either. I want to end it my way, at a time that I decided for myself," you said with sadness in your eyes.

"It's my life after all. I get to decide how and when to end my life, right?"

He hummed, trying to catch on to what you were trying to say and gently nodding.

He propped a hand under his chin with his index finger touching his lower lip, looking into your eyes as if he was searching for something in them.

He slightly parted his mouth open and licked his lower lip, making it wetter and redder than before.

"How about you sell your soul to me?"

You burst out laughing, he said it as if he really is a devil with a smirk plastered on his face.

"Yeah, sure!" You played along with him, stirring your cocktail with the stick.

"And in return, you get to have your desired death," he offered a deal.

You ate the raspberries and chewed on them, "that's actually... a nice deal," you said to him.

"I know, right?" He exclaimed, then took a small sip of his drink, "but you have to give me three reasons why I should approve the deal."

"You want me to appeal?"

He nodded.

"Well, first, I don't want to make my parents sad. If I end myself, I can imagine how devastated they would be and I believe they'd blame themselves for it. I don't want that," you explained.

"Second, my life..." you heavily sighed as it summed up how fed up you were with your life, "I feel like there's nothing I can do with my life anymore, it is stagnant like that, it can't go further than this,"

"Or maybe, you haven't looked thoroughly enough," he commented.

"I don't intend to find out anyway," you meekly said, you hurriedly drank your cocktail and let the alcohol burn down the cries trying to escape your throat.

He stayed quiet but intently listened to you, tracing the rim of his glass with his index finger.

"And the third?"

"I told you," you beamed with a foolish smile, this time you were convinced you got a bit drunk.

"You're dying?"

You nodded then finished your drink with one long gulp.

"Figuratively?" He asked for confirmation.

You shook your head, "sadly, no," you said.

You folded your hands on the counter and rested your chin on it, "that's why I don't want to wait for my end to come," you said to him.

He sighed then tilted his head upward, looking up at the ceiling, "And they say life is beautiful?" He sneered at the vast emptiness of the bar.

You let a scornful laugh with eyes drooping lower with each passing second.

"Are those enough to appeal to you?" You asked.

He finished his drink and gasped once he gulped down all of his drink, "I'll think about it," he said.

You snickered, amused that he treated this as if it was real and that he seriously considering it.

"Yeah, take your time," you joked to him with a sleepy smile, and after that nothing.

A day in your life always went like this.

You woke up at 5:30 am, did your laundry then cook breakfast, showered then dressed up for work.

You went out and listened to your neighbor arguing about the trash bags again for the umpteenth time as you passed their door. You bought a cup of coffee and got on a bus to work, on a good day, someone would offer you to sit on their seat but that rarely happens.

You worked as a columnist for a newspaper but mostly, to write a review of children's books and or an event of people who paid the newspaper to write about it, who wanted it to be publicly known.

Your boss never took you seriously, that's why he only gave you jobs that other people won't take and also because you would accept everything he gave you.

"Let me guess, a reunion?" Kim asked, a co-worker who sits next to your desk.

"Close. It's an anniversary of a nursing home," you answered, "one of our executives is one of their biggest donators.”

"Well, of course! You'd better make his name big and bold in the article," she sneered.

"Noted!" You beamed in response.

The little delight in an office like this is to talk about lame things that would make you feel better about your life at least for a few seconds before you descend into the pit again.

You swiveled your chair in her direction, "did you perhaps see me leaving the Halloween party?"

She pursed her lips while tugging a pen between her teeth, "I think the last time I saw you was when you said you needed to get some fresh air," she answered.

You recalled everything you did that night, including the part where you went to the rooftop and almost plunge to your death but that didn't happen. You remembered someone stopped you, took you inside to have a drink then from there, it was a big blank.

You didn't know how you get home that night and woke up in a sweat, your Halloween costume stuck to your skin and your shoes neatly placed on the threshold.

"But I can't remember that night either. Someone from the printing got me on a taxi home," she grimaced.

"Oh yeah, I got a little drunk as well," you said despite your memory of last night was still blurry to you.

"I better get started on my article," then swiveled your chair back, pushed to your desk, and started working.

On the afternoon, you went to the pantry to make your fourth cup of coffee of the day. You waited for the machine to finish while looking out the window.

"Can you make me a cup too?" Someone asked from behind you.

You turned around to find Minho. Your friend since the first year of college, the one who asked you to intern at the newspaper together and got the jobs at the same time, the sole reason why you were still here and the one you've been secretly in love with, your first love and the only person you ever fall in love with, staring at you with a smile on his face.

"A black coffee for Minho. On it!" You said to him.

He walked up to you and helped you get a clean mug from the top cabinet.

His hand brushed yours as he handed the mug to you.

You carefully poured the hot coffee into his mug and ripped a pack of brown sugar to add to it.

"Exactly how I like it!" He exclaimed to you with a satisfied smile.

You walked out of the pantry together while carrying your mugs in your hands, catching up with each other since he worked in a different department with you.

"I didn't see you much at the Halloween party," he said.

You swallowed, "I left early," you quickly answered.

"Why? I think I looked for you all night," he said.

He exaggerated it but you took it that he was being nice to you like he always does to you, "I didn't feel well," you lied, but not entirely.

"It's going to get cold, you better start wearing warm clothes," he softly spoke with a hand on your shoulder.

"Sure, I will," you said.

Someone called for him from across the room and he excused himself and squeezed your shoulder before leaving you.

You followed where he was going, knowing well that what was going to happen next would agonize you.

He came to her girlfriend, stood next to her while she talked to him about something, putting all of his attention on her with a smile on his face.

"Is that for me?" She asked him, pointing to the mug of coffee in his hand.

He considered it for a second and handed it to her, "You can have it!"

And there you were, could only look at someone else having what you wanted the most, his love.

It was your fault. You want all that is not yours. You want someone who doesn't want you back. This was all your fault.

You walked back to your desk and plopped down your chair, took a haste sip of your coffee, and let it burn your tongue as a way to avert the stinging pain you felt inside with a physical one.

"I'm going home!" Your co-worker announced once the clock strike 5 o'clock.

"See you tomorrow!" She said to you then gathered all of her things from her desk.

"See you!" You said back before she exited the office.

You dragged yourself to put your things back into your bag and waited for that one saddest part of your day.

You waited and waited, then there he was, Minho glanced at you with a smile on his face, "hey, aren't you going home?"

"In a bit," you answered and forced a smile for him.

His girlfriend came to his side in a matter of seconds and held his hand, it was like she has a radar that would tell her whenever he got too close to you.

"Let's have dinner next time!" He said and he had said it more than dozens of times already but never did.

But still, the intention alone was enough for you, "Bye Minho!" You said to him.

"Bye!" He said to you then left with her girlfriend.

There was nothing that excites you anymore for the rest of the day, but to mourn your life in your tiny apartment.

You saw your mother's shoes on the threshold and knew right away that she came to your apartment unannounced like she always does.

"Mom, you came without telling me again," you told her because just like all mothers do, she likes being nosy and digging through your things.

She was squatting down in front of your fridge, then sighed, "You know what makes me really sad? When I found your fridge empty like this," she said with an edge to her voice.

"What did you expect, mom? I rarely cook," you told her.

"I'd rather have leftovers and expired food in your fridge than just these," she said as she took out all the empty water bottles.

You sighed because talking back to her would only lead to an endless argument so you refrained and tossed your bag on the empty chair.

"Come! Have dinner with me!" She ordered.

You reluctantly sat on the chair and let her serve you food, obeying her like this so she would go on her way faster and leave you alone for the rest of the night.

She asked the same questions, about life, work, friends, and everything that you have no interest in anymore, which is life in general.

"How's dad?" You finally asked, to stop her from asking more about your life.

"Enjoying his retirement like always," she answered.

Your parents were on the verge of giving up the idea of having children when they had you.

Your mom was in her late 30s when she had you, she almost died when she gave birth to you and that made you precious to them. You are their only child, the one that gave them a chance and the joy to be a parent, their only hope to continue their bloodline and carry their genes and soon to be their biggest disappointment.

She left after giving you a series of scolds, ruffling your hair like she always does since you were little and hugging you, then finally leaving you alone in your own private space.

You sat by the small balcony, hugging your knees while looking out the window, wrapping yourself in a blanket because of the cold gust of winter wind even though spring is around the corner.

You fell asleep on your bedroom floor and woke up to the excruciating migraine that always comes so suddenly, without warning.

You crawled to the bedside table and hoisted yourself to get on the bed, pulled open the drawer to take out the medicine.

You rummaged inside the drawer in the dark, shaking up the last of the pills onto your palm and shoved it down your throat, swallowed it down with a few gulps of water.

You sighed into the void of your bedroom and the walls echoed it back to you.

"You have to start your treatment immediately!" Your doctor insisted.

"Immediately!" He pressured you, completely annoyed with your nonchalant attitude about your own health.

He was the only one who cared about your well-being, even more than you do to yourself.

"I just need pills for the migraines," you told him in a calm manner.

He hissed and sighed through his gritted teeth.

"Do you have any idea how severe your condition is? You are dying! You'll die soon if you don't receive any treatment," he hopelessly reminded you of your grim future.

"I know that really well," you said to him.

Then again, your attitude only pissed him off more.

"Please, let me assist you. Let me help you, it's a shot in the dark but it's worth a try," he said to you, begging with all of his heart. He must have a lot of pity for you, an old man like him feeling sad for a young girl like you, to suffer such an illness instead of him who already bagged so many life experiences.

Aside from the fact that he's taken the Hippocratic oath, he probably thinks of you like his own daughter.

"Doctor, I don't want to receive any treatment. I just want pills for my migraines," you said again, sternly this time.

He reluctantly took his notepad and scribbled something on it, roughly ripped the paper before handing it to you.

"Please reconsider it before it's too late," he said to you.

"I will," you said despite your decision being final.

"Thank you!" You muttered to him at the end.

It started with the constant migraines and pounding headaches, then when it got too unbearable, you got it checked at the hospital.

When you think life can't be more bountiful, it came with a surprise gift: A tumor on your brain.

To put it simply, you were dying, you lived on numbered days and you have roughly 3 months or less to live according to what the doctor said.

You never had any suicidal thoughts before that, but then again, depression is one of the side effects of dying. Because a surprise gift wrapped in the prettiest bow,

You had informed the office that you'd be coming late and once you arrived, you got called to the editor's office because you didn't highlight the amount of donation the executive made to the nursing home and had to redo the whole article. You took one pill before started working, clenching your fists as you began typing on your keyboard, and just breathe.

As usual, you waited for the saddest part of your day to pass, holding his girlfriend's hand like she would fly away if he didn't, fingers intertwined, so tight.

"Hey, have a good evening!" He said to you.

At least he didn't promise the dinner again which made you quietly wish it came true one day.

"You too!" You said back to him with a thin smile.

You popped another pill even though the migraine had slowly diminished, or maybe you took it because you thought it would also lessen the intangible pain inside you.

You spent the night by the balcony again, sitting down by the sill, wrapped in a blanket looking at the half-moon shining so bright above the city.

It was at a time like this you always thought of death.

The question mainly focused on 'when'? When is the good time to die? Now? Tomorrow? Two days again? By the weekend? At the end of the month?

There was always something stopping you, either your brain offering you logical options, to call the hospital and seek treatment but most of the time, it was just the reminder that you need to take care of a few things before the one final, last breath.

It didn't make you sad at all, the more you thought about it the lighter you got like you were stripping away a layer of fear of yourself.

Accepting reality is easier than keep avoiding it.

You got up in the middle of the night feeling nauseous, immediately ran to the bathroom, then vomited into the toilet bowl. Tears, sweat, and hair stuck to your face, you flushed the toilet, collapsing on the bathroom floor after. Curled up on the tiled floor of the bathroom, suffering from the pain that you have to deal with until you eventually die.

After a moment of trying to gain your consciousness, you heard footsteps approaching your way through the vibration on the floor.

Your vision blurred with tears and you could make out the shape of a dark figure looming in the doorway of your bathroom, tall with a hint of red.

You were in no condition to either fight or fight, you barely had any strength to take a stand.

The figure approached you then you felt the warmth of his hand, cupping your cheek.

"You suffer so much," the figure said.

He ran his fingers down your face and forced you to close both of your eyes, it was a simple touch yet it worked to send you into a painless, dreamless sleep.

You made a cup of coffee the second you arrived at the office.

You could feel nauseous from last night lingering inside you and felt another cup of coffee would help. You felt a hand resting on the small of your back and quickly turned on your heel to see who it is, "oh Minho, good morning!" You said, half surprised to see him so early in the office like this.

"You came early!" He said to you.

If he paid attention to you just a little, he would know that you always come early, at the same time every morning.

"Yeah," you half-heartedly answered.

"Which is perfect!" He exclaimed, then leaned against the counter to face you, "I need your help," he said.

"What is it?"

"I have an article and I have to turn it in this afternoon. Can you help me edit it?" He asked as he ripped two packs of creamers with his teeth, then poured it into your coffee.

He stirred it with a spoon while you were holding the mug in your hand, he licked the spoon once he was done then tossed it onto the sink.

"Please?" He asked.

It became a habit of yours, to always submit to his wishes whether you intended to or not.

"Of course!" You said.

You huddled close together in front of his computer, editing the article together and mashing ideas together. He couldn't deny that the two of you made a great team, especially when it comes to writing, it has been like that since college.

"It reminds me of our college years," he said to you.

You turned your head a smiled at him, suddenly aware of the proximity that you hurriedly swiveled your chair to the other way.

"Yes," you sheepishly replied.

"Let me treat you to lunch today!" He said.

"No, it's okay, it's nothing," you kindly refused, holding up your hands at him.

He grabbed your hands and put them down on your lap, "just wait by your desk, I'll pick you up later!" he said with a smile.

Kim invited you for lunch like she always does but you refused since you waited for Minho to pick you up just as he promised.

But he didn't come, even after Kim came back from her lunch and gave you a puzzling look.

"I'm not that hungry," you lied to her and assured her that you felt like skipping lunch.

You got ready for leaving the office, shoving everything into your bag, and didn't even wait for the saddest part of your day to pass like you usually do.

You went home and slept the day away, when you woke up in the dark of your home, you found someone sitting on the balcony that you used to sit on.

You scrambled to turn on the light and found him.

The guy with the hellfire hair and luscious lips, eating an apple.

"I hope you don't mind me taking an apple from your fridge," he said to you.

You roughly pinched the bridge of your nose then rubbed the corner of your eyes, "How do you get in here?" You asked.

"Through the window," he answered.

"But uh... I-" your head was still drowsy.

"I don't think I have apples in the house," you tried again.

He softly sighed, "You should check your fridge because you have a whole box of it," he said.

He got off the balcony and entered your room, standing at the end of your bed looking at you, "I wanted to talk to you yesterday but you didn't look good," he said.

"Talk about what?" You scooted to the edge of the bed, then stopped, your head was spinning and your hands were shaking.

"You shouldn't have skipped lunch and dinner altogether," he said to you.

You limped to exit your bedroom and trudged your way to the kitchen, opened the fridge with all of your strength, finding a whole box of apples inside just like he said.

"Mom..." You sighed with your head still stuck inside the fridge.

He fitted himself in the small space and took two apples, "here, you have one and I have another," he said, handing one to you.

He didn't hesitate to take a bite of the apple and it made a delicious crunching sound that strangely evoke your appetite.

You caved in and took a bite, the sweet juice started to fill your mouth, satisfying your hunger and thirst at once.

He leaned against the kitchen counter, across from you, and looked at you as you stood there chewing on your apple.

"I've been thinking about it," he said.

"What?"

"About the deal."

"What deal?"

"That you want to sell your soul to me and in return I give you your desired death," he replied.

And it all came back rushing through your head like a bursting dam. He was the guy from that night, the one who helped you get off the ledge, who made you that sweet cocktail, and probably the one who took you home, that's why he knew your address.

You gasped and almost threw the apple away, "you're the guy from that night," you exclaimed at him.

"Glad you remember!" He said to you with an unimpressed look.

"The devil," you recalled.

"In the flesh," he finished your sentence.

"Except that you aren't real," you said.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion but he decided to move on "anyway, I brought the contract," he said, pulling out something from behind him, a piece of paper, worn and torn at the seam.

"I wrote down everything in the contract and you can read all of it," he paused to walk up to you then stopped just a step away from you, handing the paper to you.

"Just take your time, no need to rush to sign it and I'll be back before midnight," he said.

You took the paper from him and it smelled exactly like you imagined, a page of an old book.

"B–but how?" You asked in pure confusion.

You exhaled a long breath to calm your erratic breathing, "how do I know that this is all real?"

He soft chuckled while rubbing his chin with his knuckle, "just learn the contract paper," he said then took another bite of his apple before throwing the core into the trash bin.

He walked back to your bedroom and you were late to follow him, you caught the last of him getting out of your window to the balcony. But once you looked outside, there was no sight of him or the red of his hair anywhere.

It was like he just vanished into the night.

What kind of dream did you have last night?

But the details of your dream were too real to be considered just a dream, the apples were indeed there in the fridge, and the contract paper was on the dining table.

You were reading it when Kim all of sudden asked about it.

"Nothing, it's just a flyer," you waved her off and shoved the paper back into your bag.

The dullness of work suffocated you once again and to top that, Minho's girlfriend celebrated her birthday in the office and invited everyone to have something from the table full of a variety of food she ordered.

If Kim wasn't forcing you to have a slice of cake, you wouldn't have been here and eating the cake in silence, forcing it down your throat with your eyes uneasily looking at her, and then at Minho who stood so close like they were joined at the hip.

She sauntered in your direction and you quickly stuffed your mouth with the cake to avoid answering whatever she was going to ask.

"Seems like you really enjoyed the cake," Minho's girlfriend said.

You nodded with a mouth full of food, "yes, it's delicious," you shortly replied.

She smiled then brushed her hair to the back, intentionally showing something flashy on her hand, a diamond ring.

You knew she was baiting you to ask her the question but you didn't want to give her the satisfaction. You and Kim exchanged a glance, you guessed she noticed it too then looked in two different directions, to anywhere but her hand.

"Minho gave me the best birthday present," she blurted out when none of you asked about it.

You nodded but not saying anything.

"I didn't mean for anyone to know but I think good news should be shared, right?"

You stuffed more cake into your mouth and repeatedly noted, you really didn't want to know anything about that ring.

"We got engaged last night!" She announced, pitching her voice a bit louder for everyone around her to hear.

And suddenly, you had a hard time swallowing your food and it just stuck there in your esophagus.

People started making a ruckus then followed by congratulations from here and there.

You weren't sad or mad at all, you were just a little shaken inside. You forced yourself to swallow it all down inside you, whether it was the food or the bitter, harsh truth that you had to stop this masochistic infatuation.

Everyone's first love is meant to fail anyway.

Minho came to her side a moment later, looking unamused that the news was out. It baffled you how his eyes searched for yours first and not his girlfriend. You looked at each other but nothing came out from both of you.

Minho must be terribly stupid if he didn't know that you have feelings for him. It had been years and all these things you did out of devotion for him were too obvious to be missed.

You believed he knew but he decided to stay oblivious about it.

You got a little disappointed, at him and yourself, disappointed at him for leaving you hanging like this, and at yourself, for not having the courage just to say those three words to him.

"Congratulations!" You said to him, smiling even though you were close to tears.

"Thank you!" He meekly said.

You hated your heart so much for wanting what is not yours, for wanting what is not right, for wanting someone who doesn't want you back, for wanting him.

Your nausea returns when you were in the elevator heading down to the lobby. You felt the queasiness bubbling inside, you quickly covered your mouth and breathed through your nose, calming yourself with eyes uneasily looking at the floor number going down with each level.

You broke into a run when the elevator doors slid open, flung to the nearest bathroom, and pushed any door of the stall to find the one that was available.

You vomited everything out into the toilet bowl which got you retching and gasping for air at once.

"Hey, are you okay?" Kim asked.

You didn't know she was following you until she stood by the door clutching your bag in her hands.

"You dropped your bag," she said, one hand keeping the door of your stall open.

You took a tissue and roughly wiped your mouth with it, "Can you please get me my pills from inside my bag?" You begged.

"Sure, sure!" She fumbled to unzip your bag and shoved her hand inside to take out your medicine.

"Give me two," you said to her, holding out your palm at her.

She complied, shook the container until two pills rolled out then handed them to you.

You dry swallowed them and closed your eyes with your back resting against the partition.

"I have water," she offered, pulling out bottled water from her bag.

She uncapped the bottle before giving it to you.

"Thanks!" You muttered.

"Are you sick?" She asked.

You let out a long shaky breath, "I have this..." you paused to take another sip of water, "acute migraine," you lied.

She checked your body temperature but you seemed fine to her except for how you looked, "you look so pale," she sadly said.

"I just took my meds. I'll be okay," you assured her.

She helped you get up from the floor, smoothing down your skirt and fixing your coat, "you should get a taxi home!"

"Yeah, that's a good idea," you told her since there was no use in refusing her kind suggestion.

You sat on the couch waiting for the red-haired whatever man to really come just as he promised last night.

You sat cross-legged and read the contract paper over and over again, still wondering why you played along with him.

"I believe you have read the contract one too many times," he said, appearing out of nowhere behind you.

He walked so gracefully like a model down a fashion runway, poised and cool, his all-black attire supported the whole model's off-duty look.

"How do I know that you're the real devil?" You asked him, never the type to dillydally, especially when it comes to making a deal that involves your life.

"Isn't it obvious enough?" He asked with arms outstretched.

"Or are you hoping that I have horns and red-skinned, scary eyes and claws? Like that?"

You shrugged, "sort of."

He laughed, "my job is to tempt you human and you expect me to do that while looking like a scary creature out of a fantasy book?"

You pursed your lips and shrugged again, "well, that makes sense now," you said, settling the issue with an agreement.

You unfolded the contract paper and pointed to one of the points, "it said that you'll be with me every day. What's that mean?"

"What it literally means. I'll be with you every day, not for the whole 24 hours, of course. I have stuff to do," he said.

"What? Bartending?"

He scoffed.

"That's just ridiculous, I'm not going anywhere," you protested.

"I'm protecting my asset here because what if you had a change of heart?" He sat on the single sofa across from you, crossing his legs and propping a hand under his chin.

"I promise you, I will not," you assured him.

He softly rubbed his lips with his index finger, "are you sure it's not because your unrequited love just got engaged?"

That caught you off guard, "how do you know?"

"I told you, I keep an eye on my asset," he said, now spreading his legs open and propping his elbows on his knees.

You got quiet because you didn’t expect him to know this much about your life.

"So, it's not because of him?"

"No," you strongly denied.

"Let's not take a haste decision," he suggested.

You shook your head, "I think we should sign the contract!” You persisted, took a pen and placed your sign on the bottom corner of the paper.

He laughed when you slid the paper and pen at him, then said, "your turn!"

He burst out laughing, "and you think when you made a pact with the devil signing a paper would do it?"

You glared at him and hissed in irritation, "why didn't you-"

He took the paper and burned it on his palm, turning the paper into ash and smoke.

Your eyes widened in slight shock, it was like a magic trick, except that he wasn't using any trick and no equipment.

"Impressed?" He asked with an eyebrow raised.

You cleared your throat and acted coy about it, "no, but you’ll make a great birthday magician," you told him despite what he just pulled off scared you a little but you tried not to get intimidated by him and repressed it by acting nonchalantly.

He stared deep into your eyes as if he tried to look into your head and see what you were thinking. He didn't look away as he pulled out something from the inner pocket of his black suit jacket.

A locket with a thin gold chain and the pendant isn't bigger than your thumb. He hung it around his hand and showed it to you.

He put it inside his palm after you stared at it long enough.

"Before we make a pact, you haven't decided on your death yet," he reminded you.

"Huh?"

"I promise you your desired death, but the how and when, you haven't told me yet," he clicked his tongue repeatedly, "you have to be specific when making a pact with the devil," he said while squinting his eyes at you.

"Oh?" You exclaimed. He was right, you were rushing everything and you weren't aware of who you are dealing with.

"I want to die peacefully," you said.

"Like drowning?"

"How is that peaceful?" You asked in disbelief.

"Well, it's in the water and it's quiet. Peaceful!"

You winced, "I want to go..." you raked your brain for the right word to say, "quietly."

He scrunched his nose, thinking of an idea.

"I want to die in my sleep," you offered yours before he gave you other strange ways to die.

"Okay, I can do that," he said.

"Next question: when?" He asked, leaning forward at you in curiosity.

"Soon," you shortly replied.

"How soon?"

"Soon enough."

"Tomorrow?"

"Too soon," you snarked.

"A week from now?"

"No."

"One month from now?"

"Too long," you said.

He rolled his eyes in a rather dramatic way and came up with a suggestion real quick, "13 days, that's my final offer!"

You thought it over, two weeks. Would you be able to get your affairs in order in two weeks? It was kind of ideal, it wasn't soon nor late, it was right.

"Deal!"

He got up from the sofa and you unconsciously followed him, getting up from the couch as well. You both took a step closer and stood facing each other in the small living room of your apartment.

"Give me your hand!" He ordered.

You complied and held out your hand at him.

He took a breath to finally grab your hand, wrapping his hand around you and you did the same.

"Are you sure you want to sell your soul to me?" He asked, sounding all business and serious.

You swallowed air then cleared your throat before answering, "yes."

"And in return, you want a peaceful death?"

"Yes."

"13 days from now?"

"Yes," you undoubtedly replied.

A fire alight, setting both your clasped hands in a blazing fire but surprisingly, you didn't feel hot or in pain, it was warm, like your hand wrapped in mittens.

"Oh fuck!" You cursed under your breath, it shocked you but weirdly, you didn't try to take your hand away from him. Your eyes flicked to his face, his eyes turned into shades lighter than the usual dark eyes, gleaming like the eyes of a tiger in the dark.

"In a matter of 13 days, your soul will be mine," he said with eyes that looked right into you, so deep like he talked right into your soul that soon will be his.

You couldn't lie but felt a little frightened inside, you could feel beads of cold sweat form on your back and probably seep into your shirt.

"Congratulations, your life is officially cursed and you'll burn in hell forever!" He said with a smile that was the opposite of what he said to you. Then the fire went off, he let go of his hand to take out the locket again and opened it to reveal what looked like a clock but strangely, there was no number on it, just the needles.

"Places your thumb on it!" He ordered.

"Where?"

He gently led your thumb to the little needle in the center of the locket and pressed your thumb on it.

You yelped when your fingerpad made a contact with it, you pulled your hand away out of reflex to see that you had pricked your finger on the needle of the small clock inside the locket.

The drop of blood started filling the locket, crimson-colored liquid spread inside like a blooming flower then magically, the clock started ticking. The clock ran backward and that was when you realized that it was counting down the time to your death.

"13 days!" He said to you, opening your hand to place the locket on your palm.

You stared at the clock that counted down the time that led to your death.

Tick, tick, tick.

You had been wasting a full 60 seconds just staring at it in a mix of wonder and fear, you have a lot to say yet you were so speechless. You quickly shut the locket and put the chain around your neck, then you felt it, the weight of the pact you just made with the devil.

He helped you by fixing the hair caught in your necklace, "I brought just the right drink for the occasion!" He announced.

He poured wine into your mug in such elegance and didn't spill a drop by quickly spinning the bottle, then wiped it with a napkin.

You clank your mugs together since you don't have any wine glasses in the apartment.

"To cursed life!" He said as you both made a toast.

"To cursed life!" You repeated his words in a low, hesitated voice.

He sipped his wine and made it look like he sipped ambrosia in a goblet instead of wine in a mug.

"Having a second thought?" He asked, catching you holding the locket resting on your chest.

You quickly shook your head, "no."

"What are you going to do on your last few days in the mortal world?" He asked, tracing the rim of his mug with his index finger.

"Get my affairs in order," you replied, clasping your hands around your mug like you were seeking warmth from it.

"You need help?" He asked.

You awkwardly laughed, "what can you do?"

"I can do a little mischief here and there," he said, his finger flying to his lips, playing with the plump of his lower lip.

"That would be against my plan of 'going quietly'," you reminded him.

"What's with 'going quietly'? Why not 'go with a bang'?" He suggested, making a gesture of explosion above his head.

"I just..." you paused because you didn't know the answer. Why you should go quietly?

"I think it's easier that way," you replied with an answer that you weren't confident in.

He nodded and didn't ask further about it. He took another sip and let the silence hang in the air between you and him.

You looked at him, in his usual attire of black outfit and red hair slicked back, pale skin with eyes back to their intense black color.

And you wondered how he ended up here?

"What should I call you?" You suddenly asked him.

"You can call me baby, darling, love," he listed all the pet names he liked to be called with.

"I don't like to be called cutie, but for you, I'll allow it," he finished with a wide smile that made him look more human than he was supposed to be.

You rolled your eyes at him and inaudibly sighed.

"Hyunjin," he quickly said.

"You can call me Hyunjin," he said again while taking another sip of his wine.

You nodded, and that was enough information for the day. That he really is the devil, named Hyunjin and you just made a pact with him. Your eyes shot at the locket and at the reminder of it, you heard the sounds of the seconds being deducted from your life.

Tick, tick, tick.

D-13.

"That's a nice necklace!" Kim beamed the moment she noticed the necklace dangling around your neck.

"Oh, this?" You asked her.

"Is it vintage?"

"Uh..." you stalled to find an answer, "yes, I bought it online," you lied.

"That's so nice!" She praised.

"Text me the online shop cause I want one,"

You stifled a nod, "yes, I will," you lied again.

At this point, you didn't care about all the lies you tell people, you are going to burn in hell for eternity anyway.

You were coming back from lunch with Kim when you met Minho in the lobby, he looked like he was waiting for you from the way he got up from his seat the moment he saw you coming through the entrance.

"Hey, want to have coffee together?" He asked you.

Kim realized that he didn't ask for her to be present there and excused herself to go back to the office.

"Okay," you replied.

You had been sitting facing each other and the cups of iced coffee dripping wet from the condensation, you waited for him to say something with your hands clasped under the table.

"What is it, Minho?" You asked him because he kept quiet the whole time you sat there.

"You have something to say to me?"

It seemed like he was unable to decide what he wants to talk about first, you guessed he wanted to talk about yesterday.

"I wasn't planning on proposing to her," he blurted out.

You looked at him rather wide-eyed, didn't expect him to say it like that.

"I was planning on gift her a ring. Not proposing to her," he explained.

"But her parents were present and she got ecstatic the moment she saw it," he paused to catch a breath, "I couldn't just say that I didn't mean to propose to her, she looked so happy. I-"

"Minho, I'm not asking," you reminded him.

His face gradually turned sour, "I just thought that maybe I need to explain-"

"Whatever you do or did or done with your girlfriend is none of my business," you quickly told him, settling the matter before he pried more than you allowed him to.

Your words seemed to surprise him and he was quiet for a while, "I don't want things to change between us," he said.

You badly wanted to ask him what exactly you two have. What you are to him? And what he takes you for?

"What are you talking about? We'll always be good friends," you remarked with a sweet smile.

A smile bloomed on his face, "yeah, of course, we'll always be good friends, right?"

You nodded even though he clearly drew the invisible line that you shouldn't cross.

He took a long sip of his coffee and gasped in satisfaction, "I'm writing a special article," he said.

"Yeah?"

He nodded, "yes, it's for the spring special-themed article," he replied.

You stirred your iced coffee with the straw, making the ice cubes clink against the glass.

"That's great, Minho!" You complimented him without looking at him.

"Can you help me with it?" He asked.

"I like it when we work together," he added.

You stirred and stirred, watched as the coffee made a swirl inside your glass.

"Please?"

You stopped stirring when the coffee was about to slosh out of the glass, "sure, I'd love to," you said.

There you go, making the same mistake over and over again, despite knowing that you would only get pain in return.

You were brushing your teeth when you saw his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

You got startled that you spat onto the sink, "coming back from whispering evil deeds into people?" You sneered at him then washed your mouth with running water.

He folded his hands and leaned against the door of your bathroom, "yes, and I should've told you to throw your iced coffee at him," he sneered back.

You got quiet, he wasn't only spying on your life but also knew what happened between you and the people around you.

You got on your bed and covered your body up to your chest with the duvet.

"That's it for the day?" He asked you.

"I'm going quietly," you reminded him with your back facing him.

He softly chuckled, "Goodnight!"

You didn't reply but the lingering silence got you curious if he was still there watching you sleep. You turned on your bed but he was already gone.

D-12

You haven't gotten to your desk yet when you got called to the editor's office, papers flying in your direction the moment you got in.

"You called this a piece of writing?" He asked you, the veins on his neck popped and strained in rage.

You opened your mouth to speak but he cut off you again with his shout, "do it all over again!"

You picked up the paper from the floor and took it with you back to the desk, you saw that this wasn't even your writing, it was someone else's but he had done it a handful of times, which means he wanted you to fix the writing and rewrite it again.

"Why does he always blame you for the mistakes others did?" Kim nagged with her head snapped at the editor's office.

You shrugged.

"Why didn't you say something?" She said with exasperation.

"You know it's useless," you responded while stacking the paper by its order.

She heavily sighed but didn't say anything back because she also knew that the editor is a really stubborn piece of work.

You spaced out while clutching your locket on your chest, feeling the ticking with every breath you took.

You could feel every second without needing to open the locket.

Tick, tick, tick.

"I knew that you'll be here," Minho said as he found you waiting for the coffee machine done making the coffee.

You turned on your heels, "yes, hi," you nervously answered.

"Have you got your coffee yet? I want to show you something," he said.

You nodded and collected your mug filled with freshly made coffee, "yes."

He took you to his desk and showed you the article he was writing for the spring-themed article, you scanned the words but the lines kept slipping off your mind, unable to focus.

"Yes, it's good," you said to him.

"Are you sure?"

"Uhm..." you hummed in confusion, your hand flew to your temple but nothing came to mind.

"I'm sorry, I can't seem to focus," you gave up trying and apologized.

He smiled at you, "it's okay, we can work on it some other time," he assured you.

You smiled back at him and took your mug with you, "sorry," you muttered.

"Let's have lunch together!" He suggested again, stopping you on your track.

"I can't. I have a doctor's appointment," you told him and it felt good on rejecting him without having to lie.

"Oh? Okay," he replied.

You didn't have a doctor's appointment but the doctor kept on calling you to come to the hospital, probably his last endeavor to convince you to get treatment.

And you were right, "I have thought it over like you asked and my decision is final, I will not get treatments," you sternly told him.

He sighed in defeat, pulled his drawer open, and placed a brochure right in front of you.

"Will you at least consider coming to this?" He asked.

You could tell that the brochure was a support group for cancer patients and survivors. It was a hard pass but to put an ease on the doctor's mind, you smiled and said, "maybe I will," you answered.

You were reading a children's book for you to review when he came, reading the title of the book out loud, "Chase the end of the rainbow," he recited, then chuckled.

"There is literally nothing at the end of the rainbow," he sneered then plopped down on the single sofa.

"It's just rain and puddles," he added then put his long legs on the coffee table.

You lowered the book enough to look at him, "did you make anyone cry today?" You playfully asked.

"I broke the ice cream machine again," he bragged, "I think yes, a few people cried."

"How fun!" You exclaimed with fake enthusiasm then flipped the page of the book.

He watched you reading the book, then got curious about it, he sat next to you and leaned so close to you so he could read it too.

You could smell the faint of his natural scent, of something strong, a bit musk and smokey. You turned your head just enough to see him, the side profile of his perfectly sculpted face and its facial features that complement each other.

He is so beautiful, it didn't make sense to you.

You shut the book and gave it to him, "you can read it," you said to him then went to your bedroom.

"Goodnight!" He shouted to you before you shut your bedroom door.

D-11

"Hey, you haven't sent me the name of the shop for that beautiful necklace," Kim said as she placed a cup of iced coffee on your desk.

You faked an apologetic look, "I'm sorry, I forgot," you muttered.

"Thanks for the coffee!" You added and took a sip.

Kim leaned at your computer screen to read the article you were writing and read it loud enough for both of you, she sighed when she came to the end of the paragraph.

"Sometimes I wonder why you're stuck here with me," she mumbled with a hand on her waist.

"You're literally wasting your talent here," she said with a hand on your shoulder.

You could only smile at her but you were sure that a new job wouldn't make a difference anyway. The tumor would still be there in your brain and you still be as miserable as you were here so what's the point?

You were waiting for the elevator to arrive when Minho took your hand and grinned when you looked at him.

"Have lunch with me!" He said while shaking your hand.

You turned your head at Kim, "I'm going with Kim," you said.

Minho looked at her, "mind if I borrow her for today?" He sweetly asked.

Kim uneasily glanced at you and caught the signals you threw at her with your eyes, but she said the opposite thing, "sure."

Minho always looked more relaxed when her girlfriend isn't around, she was having a meeting outside of the office and that was also why he bravely took you out for a lunch.

"You don't like it?" He asked.

"I'm not that hungry," you replied. You've been eating your food little by little. It comes as no surprise that losing your appetite is also a side effect of dying.

He looked at you with his head slightly tipped to the side, "you look a little pale," he said.

You took a sip of water, "I've been having trouble sleeping," you said but didn't tell him it was because of the migraine that kept you awake.

He reached for your face and pressed the back of his hand, checking your temperature, "you're a bit warm," he said.

You put his hand away from your face and gently put it down on the table, "I'm okay. I'm alright," you assured him.

He doubted you but nodded, continued eating his food, and shifted the conversation elsewhere.

"Remember the second year of college? That time we got on the back of the pick-up truck with the stage props, it was raining and we were both sick with flu the next day," he was talking with a smile on his face like the memory was so vivid to him.

Yes, those days were the happiest because it was so much simpler back then. It was just you and him stressing over college and nothing else. There was little responsibility, no articles to write, there was no girlfriend who keeps him on a leash and you didn't know that there was a tumor growing in your brain.

"You were sick but you insisted on taking care of me," he suddenly got all serious.

You gripped the fork in your hand tighter because why did he take you on an unwanted trip down memory lane? Shouldn't he know that those memories would only be nothing more than just memories? Soon he'd be forgetting all about it as he makes new ones with his dear fiancé.

"I'm finished," you said, putting down your cutlery and sliding the plate aside.

"I'll take care of the bill!" You announced because you needed to be as far away as possible from him.

He grabbed you by the elbow, "I'll do it!"

"No, you finish your meal! I have to go to the restroom anyway," you said with a thin smile and put his hand away.

On the way back to the office, Minho talked about the article he was writing but your mind was elsewhere, drifting here and there.

"So, what do you think?" Minho asked.

"Mmh?"

He cracked a laugh, "you weren't listening," he meekly said.

You shoved your hands into your coat pockets, "I'm sorry."

"Have a lot in your head?"

Aside from the tumor? You asked in your head.

"Not really," you answered.

He pushed the door open and held it open for you.

"Shouldn't you have a lot in your head?" You asked back.

He scanned his ID card before entering the building, "what do you mean?"

"You know with the engagement and everything," you casually said.

You didn't mean to but he was the one who started talking about those days when in reality, those days are over and he should be worrying about the accidental engagement.

Minho got quiet but strangely, you didn't feel bad at all. The sound of the elevator dinging open saved Minho from the question and you both got into the elevator.

Right before the doors slid shut, you caught a red-haired man smiling at you from afar, so sinister like a Chesire cat.

Out of reflex, you clutched the locket on your necklace and felt the needles counting down the seconds of your life.

Tick, tick, tick.

"You have 11... uh no wait, 10 days more to live and your plan is to finish your favorite TV series," Hyunjin said as he plopped down on the sofa next to you and took a handful of popcorn from the bowl.

"Did you happen to whisper any evil things into my ear?"

His eyebrows knitted together, "where?"

"At the office."

"When?"

"A little after lunch."

He shook his head, "not sure," he vaguely answered and filled his mouth full of popcorn.

You looked at him and observed him, trying to figure him out.

He grabbed your chin, then turned your head to face the TV.

"If you're the devil that means you've been to hell?" You asked out of the blue.

"You make it sound like going to hell is a hospital visit," he said and slumped on the sofa.

"So?"

"I came from hell."

"You were born there?"

He shrugged and took another handful of popcorn.

"Is it really that hot?" You asked out of pure curiosity and did everyone a favor for asking it.

"You'll find out soon," he shortly replied.

You pouted but despite the disappointing answers, your curiosity remained the same.

"Do you mingle with humans?"

He leered at you, "mingle?"

"You know, have a relationship with human..." your words trailed off, again, this was out of pure curiosity.

"Like us?" he pointed to both you and him.

You snorted, "what we have is a business deal."

"Like you and Minho then?" He teased.

You grimaced, "pfft... I hope not."

He chuckled and tugged a popcorn between his teeth, "why are you so curious?"

You put the bowl of popcorn onto his lap so hard sending some of it falling onto the floor, "You know everything about my life but I don't know anything about you and I'm going to die in 10 days, so please, entertain this dying lady," you complained.

He gently placed a hand on your elbow and it felt hot but bearable, "no need to be that hopeless," he playfully said.

You glared at him.

"The answer is yes," he finally admitted.

That intrigued you, so he did mingle with humans and your focus next was to figure out what kind of relationship he's into.

"How?"

You nodded.

"I don't think there are that many differences in how I have sex with how humans have sex," he casually said.

"Oh?" His answer took you aback.

"Oh!" You said again when it finally registered to you. So, it was all just physical to him. You didn't know why you expect more in the first place?

"What? You think I want to be romantically involved with the mortals?" He asked with a condescending smirk.

The way he said 'mortals' made it sound like humans are pathetic creatures just like how humans think of worms.

"Who knows?" You said with a shrug but deep down, you wished that he got karma for saying that.

He sighed and took the remote, replaying the episode from the beginning.

"Hey, I was watching that!" You said and tried to snatch the remote back from him.

"Be honest, you didn't watch any of it because you kept asking me questions," he said and hid the remote behind his back.

"How mature of you!" You sneered.

He stuck his tongue out at you in response.

You shook your head in disbelief that this entity sitting next to you is the devil and he came from hell.

D-10

You've been busy trying to finish an article since this afternoon and it seemed like you have to work overtime.

As soon as you finished and submitted it, your editor gave you another one to rewrite.

When you came back to your desk, Minho was there sitting on your desk and playing with your stress ball.

"Why are you here?" You asked and you didn't mean to be brash. It was just that everyone in the office already left and you were stuck there to pick up after someone's mess

If Minho wanted to remember the good old days with you, he should know that this wasn't the right time for it.

"I saw that your bag and coat are still here," he answered and got off your desk.

"I'm busy. I have to finish another article today," you simply said and hoping that he'd just leave you alone.

"Do you need help?"

"I'll handle it myself," you refused with a thin smile.

"Sure. I'm sure you can handle it well," he said but he seemed rather disappointed by the answer.

He smacked his lips together then he put a small paper bag on your desk, "this is for you!"

He slid the paper bag until it was right in front of you, "you said you have trouble sleeping so I bought you some chamomile tea and I think there are other kinds of tea too inside—"

He always does this, putting you on a pedestal, raising your hope and when you thought you stacked your hope high enough to reach him, he knocked it all down.

Over and over and over again and the end is always the same, he left you alone to pick up the pieces.

"You don't like it?" He asked since you got really quiet.

"I like it, thanks. But just stop," you replied and pushed the paper bag back to him.

"I bought it for you," he said and pushed it back to you.

You looked at him right in the eyes, "no. I want you to stop doing anything nice!" You enunciated every word so he heard you loud and clear.

He looked rather confused by what you said and cracked a laugh, "Why?"

"I just need you to stop being nice to me unless you're going to be with me," you dared to hold eye contact with him.

He cracked another laugh, probably thinking you were playing with him.

"You think I'm being funny?"

His laugh died down and his face turned serious.

"See? You can't keep being nice to me and I can't keep pretending that this is something that it's not!" You told him.

Since half of it already spilled out of your mouth, the rest would have to come out as well.

"We've been friends for years. You know me, you know who I am," your voice quivering because it hurts letting these words out of your chest, "you either want to be with me or not."

Minho opened his mouth to speak but close it again, when he managed to say something, he was stammering, "we're friends and I don't want to make it complicated—"

How dare he said all that when he's the one who had been playing with your feelings and made things complicated!

"Bullshit!" You cut him off midsentence, "it's just bullshit!"

It seemed like you just spat acid at him that he stood there with his feet nailed to the floor.

"Where is this coming from?" He probably couldn't believe that his friend who's always said yes to everything he said holding this much anger inside of her.

"From the place I've been hiding from you for about three years," it was painful to admit how miserable you were pining for him for the last three years.

"Three years because I haven't wanted to seem demanding and I haven't wanted to seem needy or pathetic or… whatever!"

The tears rolled down your cheeks and you wiped them with your knuckle, "so, I haven't asked you."

You stared into his eyes again, wide and surprised at your confession.

"But I..." the tears caught in your throat the more you tried to fight them, "I have to. I mean..."

Despite having an inkling of what his answer would be, you gave him another chance by asking him the only question he needed to answer once and for all.

"Do you want to be with me?"

From the silence that Minho let it went on too long, you knew what the answer is. It was exactly like you had predicted and he didn't need to say it out loud, you knew.

Tears streamed down your face and you looked down at your lap, hiding your sadness from him.

You quickly recovered, wiping your wet cheeks with the back of your hand, and looked at him again.

At that moment, you decided that it was time to put an end to this.

"I can't do this anymore, Minho."

You left him and went someplace to cry by yourself, consoled yourself with the fact that you can start letting him go. Years of loving him only brought you tears and pain.

Minho left the paper bag on your desk and you shoved it inside your drawer and started working on the second article before it got really late.

"Before you go home, can you do another one?" Your editor asked as you've just submitted the article.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, sir!"

His forehead creased, unamused by your answer, "what are you talking about?"

As you worked by yourself at your desk while crying from breaking up with someone who's not even your boyfriend, Kim's words replayed in the back of your head. She spoke the truth that day, that you've been wasting your talent here and no one even had an ounce of respect for you in there.

And you came to a decision to, "I quit," you said and handed him the freshly printed resignation letter.

"Thank you for these past..." you paused to think of a word to describe your experience of working in this office and none came to mind except negative words.

"...wonderful years, sir!" You decided to end it with a nice note because you weren't the same with them but you didn't wait for his approval.

You let out a big sigh when you got out of his office, packed your things, and left.

You used to think that losing a job is a frightening thing but after you did it, it wasn't that bad at all. The world is still spinning and the sky isn't falling down on you. If anything, you have fewer things to worry about.

You sat on the balcony with a blanket wrapped around you, looking out at the view and the night sky.

Funny that you missed having Hyunjin around when all he does is annoy you.

This empty space only made you think of what happened that day, with you and Minho, and how things ended.

Maybe you were selfish for wanting him but he has no right to toy with your feelings, maybe you did ruin years of friendship but it felt so right.

Yet you were crying as you curled up on the bed and the tears seeped into your pillow.

A part of you was glad that Hyunjin wasn't there. You could imagine him making fun of you for looking so miserable on your last days on earth.

D-9

You forgot that you're unemployed, you woke up, showered, and cooked breakfast then when it hits you that you didn't have to go to work, you have no idea what to do next.

You might be dying but how could you forget being a normal person?

You ended up watching TV and ate the endless supply of tangerines your mom secretly put in your fridge. You napped and ordered lunch, watched some more TV, read some news on the internet, ate some more tangerines, and tried to cook yourself dinner.

You gave up when you couldn't find anything in your fridge. Your mom is right, it was an alarming thing to see an empty fridge.

"How do you like your unemployment?" Hyunjin appeared when you closed the fridge.

You sighed and took your phone, scrolling down the list of restaurants to order your dinner. "Fantastic!" You replied but with a deadpan.

He leaned on the kitchen island and looked at your phone screen, "Let's have some meat for dinner!"

You tipped your phone and got it out of his sight, continued scrolling.

When the food came, you spread them on the table in the living room and sat on the floor. You treated yourself to a big dinner since it was your first day of unemployment. From the amount of food you ordered, they put in three pairs of chopsticks and Hyunjin successfully secured a pair.

"You can't finish all this food by yourself," he said with squinted eyes then tore open the paper wrapper with his teeth.

You ignored him and started opening the lids, sending the mouth-watering smell wafting around the room. You slapped Hyunjin's hand as he went straight for the sliced meat.

You hissed, reminding him who had the right to eat it first since you bought it and doing so with a smirk on your face while he waited for you to finish, tugging the end of the chopsticks between his teeth.

"Can I have it now?" He asked.

Something about him reminded you of that naughty kid you knew in kindergarten, who liked to scare you by holding a caterpillar close to your face with a stick. He's annoying but in the most childish way and that was strange when you remembered that he came from hell.

"You were so cool yesterday," he said with a mouth full of rice but managed to put on a proud grin at you.

You continued eating but listened intently to what he said with stuffed cheeks.

"Breaking up with Minho," he continued.

"Oh wait, is it called breaking up even though you're not dating?"

You stabbed a piece of omelet with your chopsticks and ate it in one bite.

"I think you're the coolest when you..." he put down his chopstick and demonstrated how you slammed the resignation letter on your boss's desk.

"That's so badass!" He added in awe.

You couldn't remember the last time someone complimented you and how nice it feels, you didn't want to show him that so you suppressed your laugh by stuffing your mouth with more food.

"But winter isn't really a good time to quit your job you know," he continued, "I heard you spend more money during the winter because of gas, electricity..."

You blocked his chopsticks from taking more food and put them away, glaring at him.

He grinned at you with apologetic eyes, "I mean... why don't you get another job?"

"Why should I?" You simply asked.

He shrugged, "you have that thing called what... ambition or something like that."

"I'm not that ambitious," you said and it was true, you have enough from living day to day.

"If a painter dreams of having their paintings hung in the Louvre then a writer like you must have dreamed of seeing your writing somewhere, right?" He asked again.

It took you back to when you were in college and thinking of getting a job as a writer. You did the internship intending to fill in your resume and what happened years after that, let's say you were foolish enough for following a man and not your dream. You do have one and it is to write for the Daily K newspaper.

"I do," you answered.

He pointed his chopsticks at you, "Why don't you try to apply for a job there?"

You took a sip of water and thought why do you bother trying, it's a shot in the dark.

"I only have to live for a few more days anyway," you answered with a shrug.

"That's the point! You only have a few more days to live so you have nothing to lose, right?" He was talking but his eyes were looking at the last piece of meat and he knew that you noticed.

When you thought about it again then yes, you have nothing to lose. You can apply for a job and whether you got accepted or not, it wouldn't hurt since you'll be leaving the world forever.

You pushed the plate with the last piece of meat at him.

A smile rose on his face with his eyes formed two crescent moons.

How long was it since the last time you updated your resume? It was a long time ago that you couldn't remember it and you've been staring at your laptop screen, didn't know what to do with it.

"Shouldn't you be like... write something about yourself?" Hyunjin said, lying on the sofa and flicking the channels on the TV while you sat on the carpeted floor.

"Yeah sure, my bleak life story would make them hire me," you sneered and propped a hand under your chin, still trying to come up with something to write.

"Maybe all you need is a shot of courage!" Hyunjin said.

You looked over your shoulder but he was no longer on the sofa, he was there in the kitchen holding a bottle of tequila at you.

"No thanks!" You turned down his idea straight away and looked back at your laptop, still having no idea what to write. "Where did you find it though?"

He uncapped the bottle, "it was hidden under the sink," he said and poured himself a shot of tequila.

Ah, you remembered that's where you hide your alcohol just in case your mom is coming unannounced and doing an inspection around your place.

He hissed after taking a shot and looked at you, "you sure you don't want it?"

"Nah."

"To relax the nerves?" He persuaded you once more and shook the bottle at you, his red hair looking like a swaying flame under the fluorescent light.

It was really tempting and you really did need a shot of courage, "I can't do this sober anyway," you finally caved in.

Hyunjin brought the bottle and two shot glasses to the living room with a grin on his face. He initiated a toast, raising his shot glass in the air, and said, "To cursed life!"

You clank your drink with his and meekly repeated his words, "To cursed life!"

You were too confident in yourself and could handle the alcohol well since you had a big dinner earlier. Somehow, your brain worked after a few shots and your fingers started typing nonstop. When you were done, you read it out loud to Hyunjin and asked for his opinions.

"Booooooring!" He booed, stacking his hands together and putting his chin on top.

"You should write it how you would write an article for them," he said, his plush lips red and puckered.

"Can you even get drunk?"

He closed his eyes, then grinned, "No."

You scoffed and started writing again while Hyunjin refilled both of your glasses with more alcohol. He really is the goddamn devil that you couldn't keep track of how many shots you have taken. It was blurry from there, your fingers didn't feel like they were typing but you saw how the page slowly filled with words.

You remembered reading it to him after and he laughed. You didn't know what was so funny about all this but you laughed to the point that you almost spit your drink. You both huddled in front of your laptop together and drank more tequila straight from the bottle in turns.

"This is it!" He said.

"I don't know. This sounds... so..."

"Out of this world?"

You laughed.

"Send it!"

You moved the cursor to the send button.

Hyunjin brought his mouth close to your ear, "hit the send button!"

You shivered, "oh, the devil's whisper!"

"Hit it!" He said right into your ear, a little louder.

You pushed him away while giggling and covered your ears, "okay, okay!"

You squinted your eyes with your finger only an inch away from clicking, sending in your resume through an email.

When you opened your eyes, there was a pop-up notification that the email has been sent.

"Oh fuck!" You sighed and lay yourself down on the carpeted floor.

Hyunjin lay there next to you, "see? It's not that hard!"

You stared at the ceiling with your eyes started drooping, "I'm so tired."

"You should go to bed it's cold in here," Hyunjin nudged your shoulder with his.

But it felt comfortable and you could barely keep your eyes open anymore.

"I'm sleepy," you whined.

"It's cold!" He grumbled.

Without opening your eyes, you grabbed his arm and held it close. His body heat was enough to keep you warm.

"It's warm now," you slurred and started to slowly drift into sleep.

D-8

You woke up with a cold sweat and fumble to get off the bed, then reality hits you like a bucket of cold water.

"Fuck, I keep forgetting that I'm unemployed," you groaned and went back to sleep.

You woke up after a few more hours of sleep and ordered lunch right away. Ignoring the mess from last night, an empty bottle of tequila, the dirty dishes on the table, and your laptop died from running out of battery.

Your head was pounding but you knew that it was not the usual migraine, it was the hangover.

You took a shower next, trying to get rid of the alcohol stinks, and washed the hangover away.

You felt a little better in the afternoon but your stomach still felt a little sick. You opened the fridge to only groan at how empty it was except for the bottles of water and a half box of tangerines.

You rummaged through the box of your office stuff and found the paper bag Minho gave to you that day. There were boxes of different kinds of teas inside with the name of the tea and what it's good for written on each box.

Putting your pride aside and making yourself a cup of chamomile tea, the smell of it instantly relaxed you.

"Make a cup for me too!" Hyunjin said, lying on the sofa with his hands under his head.

"Make one yourself!" You said and took a small sip of your tea.

"I feel like dying here!" He whined while lying sideways on the sofa like he was posing for a photoshoot.

"No offense," he quickly added at the end of the sentence.

You took another sip and felt better already, or you suggested to your brain that it was working on you.

"None taken!" You plainly answered.

He got up from the sofa and stretched out his long arms, his red hair messy on the back, "what's for dinner?"

That reminded you to start looking at restaurant menus, went to your bedroom to get your phone, and saw two missed calls from Kim.

You were about to hit a call back when the doorbell rang.

"Is that the food?" Hyunjin asked from the living room.

You got out of the bedroom while holding your phone, "I haven't ordered yet," you answered.

You came to the door and opened it, got stunned at the person behind it.

He was the last person you wanted to see but there he was, standing in front of you, Minho.

"Can I come in?" He asked with a smile.

You let him in because it's basic etiquette, you wanted to be polite, nothing more than that.

Hyunjin was already gone when you got back inside but Minho saw the paper bag he gave you on the kitchen island.

"You were having tea?" He asked.

You didn't want to give him the satisfaction that you cherished the things he gifted for you but it was too late to hide it. You decided to play coy, "you want one?"

"Yes, please!"

You went behind the kitchen island and made him a cup of tea, doing it to ignore looking him in the eyes because you knew what those eyes can do to you.

You kept doing it when you served the steaming hot cup of tea to him.

"Thank you," he muttered but didn't take a seat on the chair.

You stood there next to the dining table, suddenly feeling like you were the one visiting his house and not the other way around.

"You are eventually going to look at me, aren't you?" He asked.

So he noticed that you've been trying to avoid them, you took a deep breath to finally look him in the eyes. There was a part of you that was glad of seeing him again and you hated yourself for it.

"I came here because I had to see you," he began, taking out the hands that has been deep inside his jeans pockets.

"Had to," he emphasized.

And that part has taken a bigger part of you the longer you stared into his eyes.

"I just don't understand this," you said.

You put your hand on the table for support as you felt like you were about to crumble down all over again.

"I mean... I was right there for years, remember?"

Even the soothing smell of the tea didn't work on relaxing you anymore.

"'This was a mistake' that's what you said to me once, that we weren't right for each other."

He looked a bit perplexed, lost in your words. "Well, I don't remember that," he innocently said.

Unlike you, he wouldn't remember saying that but you remembered how and when he said it, how those three words stuck with you ever since.

He took a step closer and placed a hand on yours, "I just know that I hated when you're gone."

He held your gaze before continuing to talk, "I kept looking at your desk at work and it was driving me crazy that I wasn't hearing from you."

He puts his forehead on yours and sighed in relief as he has just found a haven, "I don't want to lose you."

You were on the verge of plunging into another heartbreak but at the same time, couldn't say no to the thrill, "Oh... Minho," you said so hopelessly. And you hated yourself for letting him get to you, holding you by your neck, and winning your heart all over again.

"Come here," he held your face in your hands and leaned in, putting his lips on you, tearing down your guard like it was nothing but a mere warning sign.

Here you were, letting him take you to your bed and kiss all of your doubts away.

The shape of his body fits you perfectly as he lay there next to you and held you close, if this was a mistake then why it feels so right?

You pulled away to catch a breath and looked at him again to confirm that you weren't imagining it.

"I'm taking a long break at the end of the year," he said.

His hand splayed on your back with his thumb teasing the hem of your t-shirt, "I was thinking we can go on a trip together," he came up with the plan out of the blue.

"Somewhere warm with good food. Somewhere where I can see you wearing that red swimsuit I gave you," he added and pecked your lips. He once gave you a pair of swimsuits on your birthday since you planned on taking a summer vacation but the trip was canceled because your father got sick.

"What do you think?" He asked.

The invite came too suddenly and the end of the year was a month away, you only have a week in your life but sure, a trip with him, anywhere it is would be nice.

"It sounds great," you replied.

He puts a strand of hair away from your face before placing a gentle kiss.

"Do you mean that? I mean, are you free to do that?" You asked because you still couldn't process this, him coming and he made out with you on your bed, then asking you to come on a trip with him.

"Well, I came here to see you. I'm here now," he said and pecked your lips again.

You got a little uneasy from his vague answer and jerked your head back, "that didn't exactly answer my question."

You propped your elbow against the mattress and put a space between you and him, "does this mean you're not engaged anymore? I mean, you come here to tell me that, right?"

Minho sighed with his eyes closed and placed a hand on your shoulder, "I wish you could just accept knowing how confused I am about all this."

You shrugged his hand off your shoulder, "so you are still engaged?"

He took a second, "yes, but—"

"Oh my God!" You groaned and couldn't be faster to get off the bed, you stumbled to stand on your feet.

Minho fumbled to get up as well and sat on the edge of the bed.

"You were right about us... this was a mistake," you meekly said.

"You didn't mean that," he refused to believe you said that.

You raked your hair and tried to gather your thoughts, "I'm about three years late in telling you this but Minho, you broke my heart so many times."

You held yourself back from snapping at him by taking a deep breath, "and you acted like somehow it was my fault, my misunderstanding, and I was too in love with you to ever be mad at you. So I just punished myself for years!"

"No, I didn't—"

You didn't want to give him a chance to interrupt you so you kept going, "then you came here and told me that you don't want to lose me whilst you're still engaged to someone," you spat the fact right at his face.

It had been like that for years but that was the first time that everything became clear to you.

"It's over, Minho," you said.

He grabbed your hands and opened his mouth to speak.

You shook your head and let go of his hands, "I'm done being in love with you."

You went out of the bedroom and took his coat from the sofa, then walked to the threshold knowing that he'll follow you there.

"What's going into you?" Minho asked and it was his usual card trick that is playing the victim again.

"A realization that I've got a life to start living and you're not going to be in it, that's what got into me," you answered, handed him his coat, and opened the door for him.

He took a long, hard look at you with eyes that always work to soften your edges but it seemed like the magic has worn off.

You showed his way out with your hand and stared at him with hatred in your eyes.

There was an intense staring contest happening for a while until he reluctantly took his coat and stepped out of the door, turning around to see you for one last time.

Before he could say anything, you got ahead of him and said, "Goodbye!"

You shut the door right in his face, walked back to the living room, and lay down on the sofa. You planted your face into a cushion then screamed at the top of your lungs. You kept doing it until you ran out of breath and your throat burned dry.

"Fucking asshole," you cursed when you got up from the sofa, then started pacing around the house trying to burn the rage inside you.

"Shit! Fucking asshole! What a fucking jerk! Fuck! Argh!!!" You took the cushion and started squeezing it until it turned misshapen.

"Maybe you should make a new cup of tea!" Hyunjin said from the kitchen, leaning against the counter and sipping his tea.

"That goddamn tea!" You grumbled through your gritted teeth and shoved the tea back into the paper bag, throwing the whole thing into the trash bin.

"You can have mine then!" He offered.

You couldn't stay still, you kept pacing around with your hands balled into fists and ready to throw a punch if you have to, "argh... I have to—"

You have so much rage inside you but didn't know how to let it out, "I want to break things and scream and punch something without worrying my neighbors."

"Or maybe sit down and have a glass of water," Hyunjin suggested but doing it so calmly because he enjoyed the sight.

"I swear if I don't get it out, I'm going to fucking explode," you angrily told him with clenched jaws.

You got your coat and headed out of the door, walking aimlessly while carrying your rage inside your chest.

You ended up in a batting cage, you just wanted to tire yourself out with physical stuff and hope the rage would die down eventually.

You don't know how to play baseball but you kept batting the ball so hard and loud that it made a ringing sound and when the pitching machine stopped.

You turned at Hyunjin, "again!" You said, signaling him to put the coin into the machine.

You kept playing until there was no energy left in you and your palms were blistering from gripping the bat so hard and shaking since you didn't have dinner yet.

"Here!" Hyunjin said, handing you cold cans of beer.

You took them and held them in your hands to soothe the blisters, sighing at how good they felt.

Hyunjin opened a can for himself and started drinking, "feel better now?"

The exhaustion did work to make you forget that you were mad but it was still there, you could feel it in the pit of your stomach.

You opened a can in your hands and took a long gulp, gasping when you swallowed it all down.

"You know, he's the first and the only person I have had sex with," you blurted out.

You stared at the night sky and there was no stars or moon, only the vast darkness.

"And that's when he said it..."

You turned at Hyunjin and his red hair looking like cotton candy under the bright neon lights.

"This was a mistake," you enunciated the words one by one with a feeling like someone squeezed your heart dry when you said it.

"Since then I kept asking myself. Was it the sex? Was I not attractive enough? Was it my body? Was it me?" you rubbed your temple and sniffled, either from the cold or you were about to cry.

"A girl like me just couldn't forget such words," you said and took a small sip of your beer, you wiped the drop that escaped the corner of your mouth.

"I told him about it earlier and he said he couldn't remember saying that to me," you said in disbelief with creases on your forehead.

Tears just rolled down your cheeks like a bursting dam and you couldn't fight them but let them flood.

"How could I love such a man for three goddamn years?" You croaked and rested your forehead on Hyunjin's shoulder, closing your eyes and crying.

“I’m so fucking stupid,” you cursed yourself with a lot of regrets woven in your words.

Hyunjin put his arm around you and pulled you closer, letting you bury your head in his chest, helping you hide your sadness from the world. He kept quiet and calmly drank his beer, listening to your crying while sitting together on a bench outside a convenience store.

Your tears seeped into his clothes but in return, you felt the warmth of his embrace.

He let out a long sigh and said, "Amare et sapere vix deo conceditur."

He spoke Latin like he was a native and it sounded so beautiful coming out of his mouth, not to mention his gorgeous lips that are as red as his hair.

"Even God finds it hard to love and be wise at the same time," he translated it.

It was surprising that it was coming from him, the last person you ever wanted to hear words of comfort from yet here he was, resting his head against yours and kept shielding you from the cold, the heartbreak, and the world.

Support my blog by kindly reblog, comment or tip me on my ko-fi!

taglist: @abiaswreck @septicrebel @cursed-mars-bars @ppiri-bahng @drhsthl @a-katsukitty @tangylemonade @bluenights1899 @thisisnotstraight88 @raspbinniecreme @elizalabs3 @avyskai @lachinitaaaaa @is2cb97 @simeonswhore @marvelous-llama

#stray kids smut #skz smut #hyunjin smut #skz hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz fics #skz fanfics #kpop smut #kpop fics #kpop fanfics #seospicy smut

1K notes · View notes

toasttt11 · 8 days

Text

broken family

June 4, 2018

Ellen rubbed her face hearing her phone going off in the middle of the night and she looked at the clock seeing it barely two am and grabbed her phone, “Hello?” Ellen cleared her throat.

“Hi is this Ellen Hughes?” A woman’s voice spoke through the phone.

“It is.” Ellen confirmed.

“I’m calling from San Diego Hospital.” The woman told her.

Ellen sat up quickly as she heard what hospital was calling her as she knew it was the hospital the Blake’s go too.

Jim squinted his eyes seeing his wife on the phone and sitting up in bed at two in the morning, he sat up with her and rested his hand on her back making her look over at him and put the call on speaker.

“A few hours ago Harrison and Maddison Blake were hit by a drunk driver and were immediately taken to the hospital for emergency surgery. Unfortunately they have both passed away and Hayden Blake said that we could call you.”

Ellen gasped dropping her phone onto the bed as Jim froze hearing the words their best friends are dead.

Ellen coveted her mouth in shock her eyes watering.

“Thank you.” Jim mumbled to the phone and hung up the call, he knew they needed to get to Hayden immediately.

Ellen looked at her husband with a heartbroken face and watery eyes, his ways were filled with tears. The two clung to each other and let themselves cry for a few minutes before they pulled away and took a deep breath.

“I’ll pack for us and get the flights, will you get the boys and tell them to pack and we will tell them before we leave.” Ellen asked her husband wiping her face of tears.

Jim nodded and pressed a gentle kiss to his wife’s forehead before getting out of bed and walking to Quinn’s room first.

He opened the door seeing his eldest and youngest son laying next to each other and he walked over gently shaking Quinn awake, who always wakes up extremely quickly.

“Quinn i need you to wake Luke up and both of you pack for a few days we need to go to San Diego soon. We’ll explain everything to you three before we leave but please.” Jim quickly explained to a very confused Quinn.

Quinn nodded and started waking up Luke as their father walked out of the room and to Jack’s room.

Jim shook his head not at all suprised seeing Jack sprawled out like a starfish on his bed and he walked over waking him up and telling him to pack before heading back to his room seeing Ellen finishing up packing.

“The boys all up?” Ellen spoke softly her face in sad frown, Jim nodded and helped her put the last few things into their suitcase and zipped it up.

They headed down to the living room with their bags and a few minutes later Quinn came down with his bag and then Luke and eventually Jack.

Ellen and Jim had the boys sit on the living room couch and shared a sad look.

“We’re going to San Diego for Hayden.” Ellen started telling her three boys.

“Is Haydes okay?” Jack immediately sat up in worry, Quinn and Luke both looked extremely worried.

“She’s okay.” Ellen reassured her children, she knew Hayden was fine physically but emotionally she knew Hayden was definitely broken.

“Uncle Harry and Aunty Maddie were in car accident a few hours ago.” Ellen told her boys gripping onto her husband’s hand.

Quinn swallowed having a feeling he knew what was wrong, Jack titled his head and Luke looked confused but still worried.

“They both passed away.” Jim voice cracked as he told his boys.

Jack’s jaw dropped and his eyes watered, Quinn clenched his jaw and fists, squeezing his eyes shut. Luke frowned confused on what he was supposed to feel, he was only fourteen and he never had anyone close to him pass away.

“Like we won’t see them again?” Luke hesitantly asked, Ellen nodded shutting her eyes at how innocent her youngest son sounded.

The boys all stayed silent in their own worlds as they left their house and got in the car to drive to the airport.

The Hughes got onto the plane and it was short four hour flight to San Diego from Michigan making them land by seven in the morning.

Ellen and Jim got a car and loaded it up and quickly drove them all to the Blake’s house.

Ellen took a deep breath as they pulled into the driveway realizing her best friend wouldn’t be in the house when she goes in.

Jim squeezed her hand reassuringly and they shared a look getting out the car with the boys all following her.

Jim unlocked the front door and Archie walked around the counter of the front entrance barking but calmed down once he saw the Hughes.

Luke patted Archie’s head as they walked through the entryway and turned the corner seeing Hayden sitting on the floor with her knees to her chest and her back against the wall.

Hayden looked up hearing people walk in and she knew it was the Hughes, “They’re dead.” Hayden said monotonously her face blank, her eyes dim, her cheeks covered in trails of tears and her nose red from crying.

Ellen squeezed her eyes feeling her heartbreaking at how broken Hayden is right now and she kneeled down in front of her goddaughter.

Hayden eyes searched Ellen’s face before she lunged forward and wrapped her arms around Ellen tightly feeling her shoulders shake with silent sobs.

Ellen let out tears as she held Hayden feeling she sobbing.

Jim guided the boys back outside to grab their bags giving Hayden and Ellen a few moments alone.

Ellen let Hayden cry for a while until her knees were aching from kneeling on the tile and Hayden’s sobs died down.

“Why don’t we get you to bed Hay.” Ellen spoke softly and looked at her watch knowing Hayden has been up for to long but froze seeing the date on her watch, with everything that happen the last few hours it slipped her mind that today is Hayden’s birthday.

Ellen realized Hayden has just lost her parents on her birthday, “Oh Hay i’m so sorry. Happy birthday.” Ellen mumbled against Hayden’s hair feeling her sob once more.

Ellen helped Hayden sit up and slowly walk to her room seeing the boys in her room already, Hayden was similar to a zombie as she walked and got into her bed not saying a word.

Jack quickly got into bed next to her and cuddled to his best friend. Luke got into the bed on the other side and grabbed onto her hand holding it tightly and Quinn laid on the bed next to Jack and his arm rested across the pillow and his hand rested on her head.

Ellen and Jim shared a extremely heartbroken look as they starred at the four, Ellen and Jim both knew Hayden’s custody goes to them and they don’t have a single problem with becoming Hayden’s legal guardian and her living with them, she’s their goddaughter.

54 notes · View notes

sabbathbloodysabbeth · 1 year

Text

Never Say Die [3]

Part one | part two | you are here | part four

Steve wobbles into the room, as expected its just as bare as the rest of the house. There weren’t even curtains on the window yet. The bed was barely put together, Steve’s guess was Hopper quickly put the bed frame together the night before just so him and Joyce could sleep on a proper bed. He wobbles next to the adult a bit as he faintly hears everyone’s voices from the living room. Not a shocker there. They were all bound to start talking about how or where he came from sooner or later. His hair is deflated, he catches a glimpse of his reflection from a fully body mirror that was only propped up against the corner. Not properly nailed into the wall. He can’t help but imagine Joyce using it to get ready for dinner dates.

Hopper pretty much carry’s him the rest of the way. Squatting down a bit to help him lay down. “You good kid?” He asks. His voice is gruff, and Steve could tell that within the six months he’s been gone Jim Hopper was one of the numerous things that changed. He seemed light, like he wasn’t carrying the world as heavily as he used to on his shoulders. There were worry marks permanently etched into his forehead, but that was like a birth mark for the man. The guy was a worrier. And he had every right to be.

Steve nods his head with a pained grunt. Flopping himself back carefully into the pillows that were placed purposely on the bed. He huffs a bit more as he gets his body situated. Barely able to keep his eyes open all of a sudden. “Yeah- sorry I think the jet lag is hitting. I haven’t slept longer then two hours since-“ he pauses. Not finishing his sentence. Hesitating in a sense. He frowns, changing the subject with ease. “Are you sure you’re okay with me sleeping in your guys bed?” He didn’t want to be a bother.

Before Hopper can answer Joyce is walking in with fresh clothes. The ones Steve were wearing have been on his back for a few days now. To concerned to get back home to go clothes shopping. “Robins going to go and get you some fresh clothes. Figured she could bring them over tomorrow after she heads home for the night.” Joyce rambles a bit. “Though you’re fine. You just came back from a war that none of us even knew existed. You deserve rest.” She smiles sweetly.

Steve still feels guilty but nods anyway. Putting on his best smile as he runs a hand through his hair. Feeling disgusting, he was definitely going to beg them to allow him to take a shower later. “Ok- but where will you guys sleep?” He asks defeated.

“Out in the living room, not like we haven’t slept on a floor before.” Joyce laughs gently. “Or Hopper will get the recliner in and he can sleep there while I sleep on the couch.” She hums gently.

“Absolutely not, we have a blow up mattress. I’ll get it situated once the kids are gone.” Hopper grumbles, Joyce looks smug as if she knew that already. As if she was messing with the other man. Steve laughs softly, unable to help himself. Moving and curling up ready to pass out. Dozing off within seconds, the slight migraine he had earlier kicked his ass.

When he wakes up, he doesn’t even realize he fell asleep. Quickly sitting up in the bed with heavy breathes. Unsure where he was. Pulling his shirt off from his sweaty body was the first sign of business. He felt like if he left it on any longer he was going to die from heatstroke. Turning his head, he glances out the window. Panic dissolving as he remembers where he was. He was at Joyce’s place, with not one single Russian in sight. He was safe. He moves rolling out of the bed. Rubbing his face as he glances to the side seeing that it was nearly three in the afternoon. If there was a word for over over sleeping that would be exactly what he just did. Groaning he turns around rubbing his face, leaving his back to the door for a second.

He hears the door creak open and he’s stiffening up as he quickly turns on his heels. But apparently not fast enough, as Robin stands in the door way holding a pile of clothes. Mouth wide open. He quickly moves tossing a shirt back over his body. Hiding the numerous scars, bruises, and the one tattoo that he got tied down to receive. His heart races as he awkwardly folds his arms around his chest. Unable to look at the other, not wanting to see the glossy look in her eyes. “What did they do to you?” Her voice is shaky. She’s frozen in her spot.

Steve takes a deep breathe as he walks forward. Moving his hands out to hold hers, that we’re currently holding a old pair of clothes. He meets her eye, “Robin - you don’t want to know.” He says. Seconds after he says the last word, she’s hugging him tightly. Crying all over again.

“I’m so sorry Steve. I should have been more help,” she’s fully sobbing again. Steve winces a bit taking a mental note to never get shirtless in front of the group ever again. He moves a hand gently to rub her back. Kissing her head.

“No- Robbie. You did everything you could’ve. You’re fine. Nothing you could have done could’ve prevented this from happening.” He says softly. Carefully rocking her back and forth. Before he hums, “now. I know you want to hug me but I’m sure that I smell like literal shit right now:” he laughs.

Robin sniffles a bit more, “you kind of do. But you now also have snot all over your shirt it that makes you feel any better:” her laughs are a bit muffled and god did Steve miss this. He hums gently as he plays with her hair a bit.

“Ewww.” Steve pretend to gag before he smiles softly down at her when she pulls back to look up at him. “You’re fine. Now I’m going to go shower, and when I come out I expect you to catch me up on everything.” He grins as he takes the clothes from her hands. Moving to go shower. Grabbing soap from Joyce before hand.

******

Steve expected for everyone to get over the shock value of him being back a lot sooner. It had been agreed upon that he would be hiding out in Joyces and Hoppers home until they figured out what the cover story was for Steve being alive. After all the entire town believed he had died in the star court mall fire. Though, every time someone came over it was like more tears were greeting him then words. Especially from Robin who has definitely been the more emotional one. Clinging to him for dear life.

Dustin on the other hand, seemed a bit more skeptical. Before he was moving and gripping onto Steve for dear life. Right before trading him a new pile of comics. All of the new releases that he had missed since he had been gone. Steve had moved from Joyce and Hoppers room. Refusing to stay in there any longer, and found himself sleeping in a guest room. What was awkward, was living under the same roof with your ex girlfriends boyfriend. Sure. Steve had quickly come to terms with what happened at the prison. But it still stung a bit.

He didn’t have feelings for Nancy any more. Quickly recognized and came to terms with that when he realized that it was Robin’s and Dustin’s faces that pulled him through the every torturous day at the prison. What had once been Nancy’s face pulling him through traumatizing times was now replaced with those who he’s loved way more then he has ever loved Nancy. It was a platonic love, one that he recognized that he was willing to die for if it meant keeping Dustin and Robin safe. Which he literally did.

Near death experiences and a lot of time alone in a cell, Steve learned that there was a lot more important things then a high-school sweetheart who probably never loved him back. He wasn’t sure. What he did know was that Robin Buckley and Dustin Henderson were the two keys to his heart. And both equally the most hugest dumbasses he’s ever met.

“Wait? You’re telling me you went on top of a fucking trailer and had a whole concert to distract the bats? And you- you went into the loony bin with a psychotic murderer to do a interview?” Steve asks. Trying to wrap his brain around the story Dustin and Robin were telling him. Next to Dustin was Eddie. Who had driven him here, and Steve wasn’t the jealous type but it seemed like the guy kind of took his place when he was gone. Though rationally, he knew he was being dramatic. He definitely owed the guy a thank you for saving the little shits life.

Eddies clapping his hands, a wide grin on his face. “You’ve finally got caught up. After that Vecna was killed and well- this little shit broke his ankle in the process of saving my ass.” He laughs. Moving and looking down at Dustin with a tight smile. A pained one. One that Steve recognized all to well.

“Well-” Steve says with a chuckle. Shaking his head. “I definitely need a drink after that.” He jokes. Moving to stand up and head to the kitchen. Relieved when Dustin and Robin don’t automatically hop up to chase his heels. He’s sure if they kept at it he was going to have to surgically remove them both from his ass.

He moves to the fridge. Pouring himself a cup of lemonade. Carefully sipping on it. No alcohol was in the house, or else he might have done a shot to recover from what ever the fuck he just heard. He leans on the counter, looking down. He really should have been here. His brain is going a mile per minute, and he’s overwhelmed again. Moving to his ear he shuts the aid off, needing a moment to not listen. Focused on his breathing. It was growing more difficult for him to talk about the upside down with them and hold his secrets about what had happened to him.

But it was better none of them knew. That’s what he was convinced of. If he couldn’t protect them from the horrors they had faced here, he would protect them from the horrors that surrounded him.

One tap on his shoulder and his body is moving faster then his brain can think. Body slamming whoever touched him against the counter. His eyes grow wide when he realizes what he had just done. Seeing Eddie wincing, hand moving to hold the back of his head from where it caught on one of the shelves. Steve steps back, quickly turning his ear back on.

��Oh my god, I’m so sorry. It’s just- I’m just- fuck. I had my hearing aid off and I kind of freaked.” He rambles apologies out. Hands shaking as Eddie watches him carefully.

“You know, that’s exactly how I had been when I was on the run. Always jumpy, scared, ready to to do anything to survive.” Eddie says gently.

Steve looks confused, trying to see what the other was getting out. “What I’m trying to say is, you’re brain is still on survival mode. It’s okay. I understand.” Eddie laughs. Hesitantly patting the others shoulder. “If you met me when I was on the run, I’m sure I would have body slammed you at least once as well.” Eddie admits before he smiles reassuringly. Seemingly a little awkward as well.

“Um- I’m going to just.” He says awkwardly. Moving and leaving Steve alone in the kitchen once more.

And shit. Steve really feels like a whole new level of fucked up compared to what were also very messed up kids.

Ngl I just came up with a idea for the next part 😭 I’m really enjoying writing these, and having them a bit smaller then what I normally write. (Which I hope you guys don’t mind. Normally I write longer parts but with my week being stressful lmao but if you guys do mind I can make a attempt at making them longer) that and I have a busy day tomorrow I figured why not post this a bit early. I’ll try getting the next part up tomorrow but I’m unsure.

Tag list; (let me know if you want to be added, I added everyone who wanted to be tagged :) if you don’t want to be on the list let me know I’m knew to making them)

@totallynotagoraphobic @flustratedcas @shunna @spookednsaucy @steddie-as-they-go @estrellami-1 @xxbottlecapx @gregre369 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thing-a-ling @radioactiveartz @bestwifehaver @idkwwhatimmdoiing @goodolefashionedloverboi @bringmethelow @thescribblerdragon @starman-jpg @lilaclilyroses @resident-gay-bitch @wolfscreations @adhdsummer @victor-thee-corvid @happymediummm @decadentworld @sidebarre @foundintheshallows @jamieweasley13 @yellowdevilkitten @catlovesfandoms @gryffindorsareidiots @thephantomhood @vampireinthesun @awkwardgravity1 @itsall-taken @gezell-igg @chaoskiro @daeb820 @liketheocean @croatoan-like-its-hot @malicia62 @thebrazilianatheist @anaibis @evix-syne666 @an-deeznutz @yikes-a-bee @0o-queendean-o0 @alyelf @starlight-archer @weirdandabsurd42 @zerokrox-blog @lolawonsstuff @mightbeasleep @michael-the-angelo

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington #bxb #steveharrington #steveddie #eddie stranger things #steve and eddie #hoh steve harrington #Steve harrington body slams eddie a bit #reverse roles #I love it #I’m having a lot of fun writing this

468 notes · View notes

olsenmyolsen · 2 months

Text

Chapter Three: Meeting Wanda Maximoff

The Farmer's Daughter - (A WandaNat Story)

Masterlist

Summary: As Natasha gets into the groove of things, someone shows up on the farm.

Word Count: 1.5K

Content: Just Natasha working on the farm

Natasha's alarm went off a little before 6 am, and she found herself groaning and cursing as she did her best to wake up.

But the fence needed to be finished, and she didn't have someone shouting at her to get a move on or drop and give her twenty.

So that was a nice bonus, and Natasha took it with a smile; just as the dark of the night was slowly making way for the sunshine of the day, Natasha got up, went to the bathroom, and started to get dressed.

She decided to wear brown boots, canvas pants, and a green shirt with a few buttons down the front. Natasha looked good, but she was wondering if her clothes were always working farm clothes in disguise.

The struggle of a lesbian, she guessed with a shrug before exiting her tiny house, ready to start the day.

An hour later, Erik finally found Natasha as she was finishing up the fence behind the greenhouse.

"You know, just like with dinner, breakfast is always an option." He said as he walked up with two tumblers of coffee. One silver and one black. He stuck his arm with the black one out to Natasha.

"Thanks." She said as her hand wrapped around the black mug. "But coffee is good with me." Erik nodded. "I figured." His eyes drifted to the sliver chain around Natasha's neck. "Old habits and all, I bet." He said, and Natasha wasn't too sure how to answer him, so all she did was sip her coffee.

It wasn't amazing, but it was better than what was provided on base.

"The fence looks good." Erik took a step back and admired Natasha's work. She nodded. "Thank you." She cleared her throat. "I was going to finish this, put the tools back, and then work on egg collecting."

Erik hummed. "Well, good luck with that." He said as he turned his body to walk away. "Remember, they'll peck." He hollered back, and Natasha nodded to herself; she watched Erik get pecked ten times yesterday.

Not that she counted.

Plus, she had been to war. A couple of chickens couldn't be that bad.

"Stop it!" She yelled at a chicken that she named Kentucky Fried after it pecked at her gloved hands for what had to have been the sixteenth time since entering their pen.

This one, unlike the others, was very protective of its work, and Natasha fully understood why Erik glared at this one yesterday when she was being shown around.

"Keep that up, and you'll see eleven herbs and spices real soon." She said after her left boot was pecked at.

This banter or 'verbal abuse' continued until Natasha was finished collecting all the eggs for the day that she placed in containers for Erik to pick up later.

Erik, who drove by on his tractor a distance away, laughed at Natasha.

"Bye!" She waved and almost flipped off the one chicken as she exited the pen and entered the barn to let the cows out to roam and to move hay around.

As she watched the cows slowly walk away, she couldn't believe how different her first two days with the military had been.

She went from having nothing to a piece of something. A future Natasha could grasp onto. It wasn't glamorous, but neither was what Natasha was doing before.

Natasha sighed with a smile and walked out of the barn into the field. She sat in the grass and kept her eyes on the cows as her thoughts drifted.

And then her phone rang.

Natasha jumped slightly as she forgot she had the device on her.

She removed her gloves and got her phone out just in time to see one name on the screen: Clint 🏹

She hit the green button with a smile.

"Miss me already?" She answered with a smirk. Clint let out a sigh of relief. "Wishing I wasn't. What kind of friend doesn't tell me where they end up, Natasha? I thought you were dead."

Natasha's smile slowly started to fade. She realized she was speaking with, "I'm a parent, so I'm freaking out on you," Clint.

She sighed. "Take a breath, Barton." She said as she could hear him stop and listen. "I'm doing okay. I'm alive." Natasha said with a smile as she heard Clint breathe out.

"Still, a text would've been nice." He mumbled.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Okay, Dad."

Clint chuckled. "So where did you end up?" Clint asked as a cow mooed in the distance, making Natasha laugh, much to Clint's confusion. "What?" He asked.

Natasha shook her head as her left hand moved through the long grass. "I found work." She said. "On a farm about three and a half hours from base." Clint shook his head and laughed. "It really is impossible for you to relax, isn't it?"

Natasha looked around from her spot on the ground, surrounded by cows. "It's not so bad." She said as Sparky barked and ran out of the Lehnsherr house. Past Natasha's place on the other side of the fence and down the road.

Natasha and Clint hummed, but for different reasons.

Natasha realized and listened as Clint moved the phone away from his ear as another person came to talk to him. Natasha could bet it was Fury, but he probably would've said hello to Natasha if it was him.

So the hushed whispers left her wanting answers before Clint eventually raised his phone back to his ear. "Gotta go, Nat."

Natasha heard the tone change in her friend.

"Okay." She understood. "Need me to call Laura or anything?" Natasha offered, but Clint shook his head no. "She's my next call. It looks like we're flying out tonight." He sighed, and silence filled the phone for a moment. "Can't wait to hear about all the ways you're not relaxing another time."

Natasha laughed. "Call me when you can. Stay safe, Hawkeye."

Clint laughed. "Will do, Romanoff."

A second later, the call ended, and Natasha didn't realize it, but her left hand had moved from the grass to the tags around her neck. Rubbing the metal with her index finger and thumb.

Natasha removed her fingers from the tags and pulled her phone away from her face. Her lock screen reappeared, and it was a picture of her and a blonde. Both wearing their military uniforms and cheesing at the camera.

It was from five years ago.

Clint took the picture using Kate's camera.

Natasha clicked the button on the side of her phone, so the screen went black as she sniffled her nose. She put the phone back into her pocket, and thanks to her settings, the picture would be gone the next time she tapped her phone.

But still, it felt nice to see a picture of her and her sister Yelena happy.

Natasha sniffled again before her face scrunched up, thanks to a particular smell. She slowly turned her body to the right and loudly groaned away the tears in her eyes before getting up.

"Couldn't do this anywhere else!?" She playfully yelled at the cow before walking up to its side. The cow mooed at Natasha and returned to eating grass as if nothing happened, forcing the redhead to laugh.

Natasha went to put back on her gloves, when suddenly the quiet countryside became loud as a Jeep without doors or a roof packed with a bunch of twenty-somethings came down the dirt road to Lehnsherr's house with a barking Sparky running behind it.

Natasha kept her eyes on the vehicle and noticed pairs of eyes glance at her as the car zoomed by.

A set of eyes hidden behind sunglasses stared at Natasha the longest.

Natasha walked down the grassy plain towards the house as the Jeep came to a stop and parked. Natasha figured the packed SUV wasn't a threat, but that didn't mean she wasn't a little curious.

So, as Natasha hopped over the fence and started making her way down the dirt road, the back left car door flew open, and nothing appeared until a set of long tan legs with blush-colored mid-calf boots touched the ground.

Natasha's green eyes worked up and down the leg multiple times before the rest of the body exited the vehicle with a bounce in their step.

Denim shorts that didn't leave much to the imagination were the next thing Natasha's eyes focused on before the color yellow of the long cotton blouse stole Natasha further and further up the woman's gorgeous body. Her hair was next, and Natasha was in love with the look. Brunette hair with blonde highlights flowed down her back.

The closer Natasha got, the more she saw the definition in the mysterious woman's figure until she turned around when Natasha was about ten feet away.

The person kept their eyes hidden behind their sunglasses, but the rest of their face was exposed. And it was wonderful. To Natasha, her skin looked soft, and she had a jawline Natasha was immediately impressed by and jealous of.

With the car full of people watching them, the mysterious person kept their pink lips closed tight until she brought a hand up to her sunglasses and blessed Natasha with the sight of the prettiest green eyes she had ever seen.

Natasha kept her mouth closed, but her breathing changed.

The pink lips separated themselves, and when she spoke, Natasha knew she was fucked. "Who are you?"

dividers by @/benkeibear

47 notes · View notes

wingedjellyfishflight · 6 months

Text

Hunting Trip

"Have you even ever been hunting?" Ghost opens his mouth. "Animals, not people." His jaw snaps shut. "Yes, you can come with, but it's not like a mission. And you have to be nice. My dad and my brothers will be with us all week."

"I will play nice with your family, promise," he says, smirking down at you.

"I don't believe you when you say it like that, but I know it's the best I will get. You should be excited, though. I pulled really good tags. Moose, elk, and a black bear. I was not expecting the moose, or else I wouldn't have gone for the other two, but I can't turn down moose." He happily listens to you chatter away about the upcoming trip, your eagerness palpable.

"What will you do with the meat? And furs?" He doesn't really care, but he wants to listen to you talk.

"Oh, we have a guy that cuts it all up, and I'm old friends with a taxidermist. If I had more time, I would cut it up myself, but Captain said he can only give me one week, so butcher it is."

"Wait, wait, wait! You know how to cut up an animal? Why are you so bad at using knives in the field?"

"I hate using it against people. It's... too similar," you say with a small shudder before focusing back on the mission.

You catch a military flight back home three weeks later. You spend the trip curled up in the webbing and trying your best to nap after the week you had. Barely had time to clean up from the mission before you ran to the tarmac. Somehow, Ghost made it there long before you. Must be excited, you think, smiling up at the big guy.

Wrapping your arms around your dad and your big brothers doesn't feel like home, you realize with a pang. Not now that you are across the pond with the team. Price's gruff hug after a mission feels more comforting. Of course, part of it may be the glares they are shooting the "strange man" who walked in the door with you.

Introducing him isn't a disaster, per say, but for some reason, they had assumed you were bringing a woman when you told them a friend was tagging along. Luckily, tags haven't sold out since they assumed a woman friend wouldn't actually want to hunt, and you are able to get an elk tag for Ghost.

Your brothers mock him for living in a country without guns. The ribbing ends when he takes the rifle he is given apart for a thorough cleaning before putting it back together in record time. You know he is showing off and you also know that you won't have to clean the guns by yourself this year, which is a relief as your brothers and dad never seem to remember to clean them.

Your oldest brother talks about the moose he is going to get and the recipes he is going to make with it. You congratulate him on drawing a moose tag, too. He stares at you for a long moment before saying that he will be filling your tag and keeping the meat since you won't be able to take it all back.

"News to me. I got special permission and certification to bring back everything. I will be filling my tags and keeping what I get." Your brother looks like he's been slapped and opens his mouth to argue, but your dad steps in.

"Enough. You were supposed to ask, not make assumptions. She will be keeping what she kills, just as we have always done in this house."

The next morning, you wake up to see Ghost sitting and waiting in the chair next to your bed in the dark. The two of you sharing a bed had been an argument and a half the night before. It had only ended when you threatened to leave and stay at a hotel. You're more than capable of platonic sleeping, and you are old enough not to need to put up with their shit. It's still another two hours before the rest of the house will wake and three before you leave for hunting camp.

"Run?" You ask Ghost sweetly.

"Run," his deep voice responds. You manage good time, clocking in several miles before heading home, showering, and making breakfast. The bacon is finishing just as your dad ambles into the kitchen, dressed to go and yawning, but a smile on his face when he sees you cooking in the kitchen.

"You're up early, dear. Didn't need you to make breakfast for everyone," he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Oh, I didn't. Bruvs are on their own. Asshats kept opening my door to look in last night. They're gonna oversleep, I'm sure," you say with a frustrated smile. Your dad chuckles and claps a hand on Ghost's shoulder in good spirits.

"Ready to put in some miles, son? Could be a long day."

"Lamb warned me. We did a short run so we wouldn't be too worn out be day's end," Ghost says politely. You shoot him a glare at the use of your nickname.

"Yeah, so we-" you try to interject.

"Lamb? Like what? Lamb to slaughter? That doesn't sound..." Your dad flounders on what to say.

Before you can salvage it, Ghost jokes, "More like a lamb sending men to slaughter. Your daughter can hold her own in the field." Your elbow to his side doesn't even slow him down.

"Field? You are consulting in the field now? It's too dangerous to be around all those amped up men, sweetie," your dad admonishes you gently as the three of you sit to eat a quick breakfast.

"Just sometimes. You know how much I love my desk, dad. If I didn't work out with Ghost, I'd get fat," you joke. You know your dad is skeptical, but he worries enough without knowing the true nature of your work. You miss the glance the two men exchange. Breakfast finished, you rope Ghost into loading the last of the gear with you, trying to keep him away from your dad.

It's only minutes before time to leave when you see your brothers stumbling out of the house to the truck. You make sure to sit between your middle sibling and Ghost. Annoyingly, your brother manspreads, squishing your legs over despite your protests. Ghost is nice enough to let you rest your legs against his, giving you a little more room. At least it's only a few hours to hunting camp. You made sure to bring your own tent and gear, so you and Ghost will be cozy the entire trip. You knew from the start that you didn't want your family to see your newly acquired scars, especially the burns on your back from last year's incident. Roasted pork had been permanently removed from your menu after that one.

"So, you two fuckin or what?" Your middle brother asks out of the blue about an hour into the trip.

"Or what," is your flat answer. No matter which is true, you're not one to kiss and tell.

"You ever hunted an elk before, boy?" You grimace at your brother's terrible mouth filter.

"Not elk, no," comes the answer from your other side.

"Oh, sheep? Antelope?" You try to intervene, but you're not fast or loud enough to drown out Ghost's answer.

"People." The rest of the ride is mercifully silent with your brothers seemingly absorbed in staring out the windows.

Reaching camp, you and Ghost work as a well-oiled machine. After so many months and especially after the time spent together in the last month in the field, you work silently and smoothly. You help your dad set up their tent, your brothers gearing up already to hunt instead. Between the three of you, camp is set in record time. Your dad begs off hunting, claiming he is going to take a nap after the early morning and long drive there.

Having pre-selected your hunting areas as a safety measure, the two of you set off into your designated zone. You let your brothers pick what they considered the prime area, hoping they would bag out early and give you time to fill your own tags. Luck is in the chilly air, though, as you see sign of a black bear not far from the trailhead. Stalking it, you realize it is stalking a herd of elk itself.

Setting up a shot can be difficult. It's even more so when you are hunting a predator. When you shoot your bear, Ghost takes down a big bull elk, too. You send him back to camp to grab your dad and get the animals ready to move. Your dad switches off with both of you to help pull the game back. You load them in the back of the truck and hug both of them excitedly, happy with the quick start to the trip. Two tags done and two to go. Your brothers have no such luck, and they are less than thrilled with your first day success.

You almost laugh when your brothers corner you later, demanding answers. "How could you bring someone like him?!" Your oldest brother is indignant.

"It's not like I work with fucking girl scouts. What did you think spec ops guys do?"

"You never said-" your brother starts.

"I said he was a coworker. The fuck do you think that means, idiot."

"All you do is push papers, course we assumed he did the same," your younger brother interjects.

"Whatever. He's here now. Deal with it and stop being rude to him," you growl out.

The next morning, you get up early and drive into the local butcher to drop off the elk and bear. You come back and set off on an all-day scout to find a moose. You find mostly older evidence of them around, but also spot another elk herd and sign of deer. Your brothers get one deer between them, and they celebrate as if it was a world record animal.

The third day, you roll out of bed antsy. "Run?" Ghost asks with a grin. "Run," you answer easily. This time, you push nearly ten miles before calling it quits. Coming back, sweaty, and flushed gets your brothers riled up. Your response is simple. "Keep your hair on, lads. We just went for walkies. Haven't been getting enough exercise in and eating too well with dad feeding us."

They both bristle at your casual use of British slang and storm off to hunt again, unwilling to even talk to you. Your dad shakes his head. "They'll never see anything crashing around like that."

"Nope. Dad, you take our section today. We are going to push further up and try to glass a moose, and we saw some good elk out our way." By the end of the day, you're tired, but you did find fresh sign, which is encouraging. Just as your dad had predicted, your brothers didn't see anything all day. Your dad, on the other hand, had opted to be picky and didn't take any shots, but saw many animals.

Day four, you decide not to go for a run. It could be a tiring day if you get a moose and have to haul it down. With that in mind, you stage extra gear partway up to be able to move a moose back to camp more easily. You finally glass the moose you've been tracking near mid-day, getting eyes on it for the first time. It's a huge bull, well over the minimum horn size. Your hands shaking slightly, you take the shot. The bull goes down after just a few steps. Processing it takes longer than any other game you've done, but with Ghost helping, you get back to camp not long after dark. Your brothers managed to shoot an elk today, and you celebrate with them, happy that they are happy.

That night, you wake up to a hand pressed to your mouth and a gentle voice shushing you in your ear. Another nightmare, you realize. Your whimpers had woken Ghost, and he covered your mouth before the screams started that would have woken up the entire camp. You thank him with a shaky voice, and he moves his sleeping bag next to yours, wrapping around you. It's what the team has done for months when in the field as a warm body next to yours staves off the screaming and whimpering. Though it doesn't help with the nightmares themselves.

You get up extra early and drop the game off at the processor before heading back to camp. Today is your last chance to fill tags if you want to bring the meat back, so you move fast tracking an elk herd. It takes most of the morning, but you manage to find them and drop a good-looking bull. Hauling it back, you are elated to have filled all of your tags in time.

When you reach camp, you see that your dad has finally gotten his deer, but your brothers were empty-handed again. They complain about not seeing anything. Unable to help yourself, you say, "Maybe if you didn't sound like a pair of trucks crashing through the woods, you'd see something." This sets them off. They think you are making shit up, again, and talking down to them.

You decide they are a lost cause at this point, but Ghost offers to show them a few tricks on moving silently through the forest. He jokes that he isn't as good as you, but he's good enough.

"That's just because she doesn't move. She just sits there waiting for someone else to do the work." Ghost just shakes his head, knowing he can't tell them any stories. Your dad watches you closely, realizing that there is something more going on here, but unable to pinpoint exactly what that something is.

The next morning, Ghost goes with your eldest brother, and you take your middle sibling into your section. You hope that separating them will help increase their chances of filling tags. Your brother pays closer attention than you'd thought he would, and his walking quiets tenfold. He keeps trying to talk to you until finally you snap at him.

"Please shut up. You can talk after you shoot something." Mercifully, he is quiet. You spot the elk herd you've been tracking and move him to set up the shot. He tries to silently argue about where to move to, but you glare until he follows your directions. He settles in and nearly spooks the herd, stepping on a stick as he shifts his body around. Thinking quickly, you almost perfectly imitate a young bull's call, which settles the cows and brings the bull closer to where the two of you are standing, looking for the challenging bull. Your brother successfully takes the shot. And he is ecstatic, whooping and hollering as the cows all take off into the surrounding forest, leaving you far behind.

You help your brother break the bull down for packing out. He looks a lot nervous at the size of one of the packs, clearly not looking forward to carrying it out, until you shoulder it easily. His surprise doesn't surprise you, though. Your brothers hadn't paid much attention to you after they moved out, and basically, none once you enlisted in the military. Upon reaching camp, you find that you are the first ones back. You help him load the elk into the back of the truck and make lunch silently. He looks like he wants to say something, but he never gets it out of his mouth. He spends the time simply standing around, thinking hard and barely interacting with you, though he is watching you closely.

When you hear heavy footsteps coming through the woods, you hurry to meet your dad, helping him drag his big elk back to camp. "Surprised you hauled it back yourself, old man," you tease.

"I've been dragging elk out of the woods for twice as long as you've been alive, girlie." The grin on his face couldn't be matched though when you load it up by yourself, waving him off. The last to return were not successful. It seems your older brother decided that he would show Ghost a thing or two and refused any advice or tips. Thus, he didn't see anything all day. You shoot a look of sympathy at Ghost. That couldn't have been easy to handle silently. He just rolls his eyes back at you, tapping his fingers on his thigh. You tap your fingers back at him and go back and forth in Morse Code. He tells you about how many deer your brother missed seeing sign of or scared off because he wouldn't shut up.

You share how your other brother did, and he smiles at the success you had with him. He tells you that you should take your older brother for one last morning hunt on the sixth day. Maybe you can make him shut the hell up.

Sighing out loud, you say, "Bro, I'll take you out tomorrow morning instead of Ghost. We will get your tag filled." Your brother agrees and mentions that he will show you how it is done, which makes everyone laugh at him.

"Bruv, we are filling your tag. I filled all of mine already. Seems I need to show you how it's done."

He sputters, and your younger brother adds, "It took us just two hours to find a herd of elk. She knows what she's doing, bro. Better hunter than me, for sure." This makes your oldest brother glower, but he finally shuts up.

In the morning, he tries to tell you what to do, and you finally tell him to knock it off after about twenty minutes. He growls, "I'm the oldest. I'm in charge."

You laugh quietly and respond, "Whatever, if you think age is all that matters, you're an idiot. Let's go, and if you want that deer, you'll listen to me. Ghost told me how many you missed or scared off by being too loud and cocky yesterday."

"He what?! Why didn't he tell me? We could have filled my tag yesterday!"

"Probably because you're being such an asshole to him." You shrug like it's the clearest thing in the world because to you it is. Grumbling, your brother follows you. Gradually, he picks up on your mannerisms and his walking quiets, but it still sounds like a moose shoving through a bush most of the time. You stop suddenly, and he nearly runs into you, not paying attention. Grabbing a bit of hair from a bush, you show him silently before walking on quieter than before. Slowly, sign becomes more frequent, and finally, you spot the deer herd. Your brother gets his deer, a big buck, and you help him break it down and load it into the packs. You add both hindquarters to one pack, and he complains that you're trying to load him too heavy. When you shoulder the heavier pack, he then jokes meanly that you're just showing off.

"Just give me that one. I don't want to have to switch off partway down because you're tired," he crows. You ignore him and set off down the trail, too annoyed to even respond to his rudeness. A grunt follows you as he shoulders his pack. At the halfway point, he is nearly wheezing with the added weight of the head on his pack.

"I need... to... stop..." he huffs. "This pack... is too... heavy..."

You wave at him to stop, and when he does, you walk around him and unhook the head from the top of his pack. Hefting it over your shoulders, you use the antlers to keep it in place at the top of your pack. "Let's go. We don't have all day," you call back to him. You can feel his stare as you hump down the mountain, moving faster now that he isn't slowing you down as much. Luckily, it's only a few miles to camp because you're exhausted after hauling so much on your back. Your dad scolds you that you should have sent someone back to get the rest of them to help, and you shrug it off.

"No sense in wasting time, dad. We got it down just fine." Happily, the three of them already have camp broken down except for the makeshift shower area. You've mostly avoided using it, just wiping down with a washcloth, but the deer head bled on your neck and down your back the whole way. "Ghost, can you help check me for ticks," you ask quietly as you strip off your gear before walking to the shower. Your brothers grumble about the two of you showering together, but you don't care as Ghost is the only one you trust to do it and the only one that knows why you won't wear tank tops very often anymore.

When you're nearly finished, Ghost convinces you to put lotion over your burn scars as they are flaring up from the lack of it in the last few days. He walks out in just a pair of shorts and shoes to dig through your pack, ignoring the suspicious stares of your brothers and their stares at his scarred torso. You manage to bite back the moan when Ghost swipes over the first scar, but not the whimper of pain when he brushes the second, which is severely inflamed. He whispers an apology and continues, knowing that you hate pausing part way when treating them, even if it hurts badly.

When you walk out fully dressed and he is still in just shorts, your brothers shoot him similar dirty looks. "Couldn't keep it in your pants a minute longer, eh?" says your younger brother angrily.

"You're disgusting! Havin sex with my sister feet away from her family," adds your older brother.

"Shut up, idiots. He was rubbing lotion on my s-back. I needed it done, and I can't reach the dry skin there easily," you growl at them.

"We know you're lying. You're disgusting. Can't believe you, seriously."

Your dad sees the stubborn set of your eyes and the hurt beneath. His sons have gone too far, he knows. "Knock it off, boys. You've been nothing but rude this entire trip, and I'm sick of it."

"But dad...!"

"Sugar, just tell them. You've been stepping around questions and hiding yourself long enough," Ghost's voice cuts through the air.

"You gay or somethin? Would make sense, but you know we don't care," your oldest brother says as he just can't help himself. It makes you mad enough to about face away from them and rip your shirt off angrily, showing them your back.

"No, bruv. He means I should show you why I couldn't make it on the trip last year. The things I hide by telling you that I consult for the Task Force rather than telling you that I am a member of the task force. I... I haven't wanted to worry you, dad." You nearly whisper the last in the complete silence that follows. Ghost rests a hand on your shoulder, watching their reactions carefully. Their eyes trace up and down the burns that mar the middle of your back and dipping down below the waist of your pants.

"You called from the hospital," your dad says finally. The pieces are clicking into place for him. "I remember hearing the beeping in the background, and you sounded... stressed."

"It was a long recovery. They had to harvest donor skin, but luckily, I got to be a guinea pig on a new treatment that sped things up," you say quietly.

"How did this happen? Why weren't we notified? You didn't let us visit or anything?!" You're surprised to hear your middle brother sounding upset. You take the time to fix your shirt, thinking about what to say.

"I was on a mission. There was a complication, and it bollocksed up the whole thing." You pause as you think back to it. "Anyway, I got caught under some burning shit and yea, this happened."

The glare Ghost gives you has you rolling your eyes at the intimidating man. "You forgot the part where you held a burning timber up to save someone and crawled out on your own, refusing to medivac until the mission objective was completed. I think that adds a few important details to the whole thing."

"And...what were you doing when this happened," your oldest brother demands.

"He was shooting anyone who tried to come near us. Saved my life, he did," you say with a grateful smile up at Ghost.

"So, you've been lying to us about your job and getting hurt, and what else? How do we know what to believe now? You only make it back here once a year, after all." Your oldest brother sounds betrayed, his tone accusing.

You just shrug and shake your head, ignoring his questions and accusations. "You gonna shower before we go, or can we break camp and head home?"

"Let's go. I want away from you as fast as possible," he sneers, turning away from you angrily.

"Fine with me," you say in a flat voice. You take down the last few tarps and drain the water with Ghost's help. The trip to the processor and back home is silent in the car, your dad and brothers thinking heavily on what they learned today while you and Ghost simply enjoy the peace and quiet. As soon as you get home, your oldest brother leaves, tires squealing as he takes off in his truck. You just shake your head, disappointed that he's still got his head so far up his ass after all this time.

You pack the meat from the butcher into coolers for the trip home to London. "You should probably call Captain and tell him to pick up another freezer or two," Ghost jokes as more and more coolers are filled and packed into the back of the truck you rented.

"I had three delivered while we were gone," you grin up at him. "Good thing I got my permission ahead of time. Captain is dying to try this stuff."

"You think they'll let you on with it all? It's more than I expected, and I thought I had a pretty good idea of what to expect," he says, a little worried.

"Oh, I grabbed bribe jerky from the butcher. They'll be excited enough not to care once I pass it around," you say with a knowing smile.

"You know the way to a man's heart, luv."

"Yes, ordnance and explosives," you quip with a loud laugh, making him grin down at you.

Telling your middle brother and dad goodbye the next morning is hard. They both hold tightly to you, and you nearly have to pry your dad off when you go to leave, his worries making him want to hold you tight and keep you safe.

"I'll be back next year, I promise. We probably will need to hunt extra, knowing how much the team will love this meat," you assure him with a smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You drive back to the air strip, happy to have ended things on a better note.

"So, yer dad is the dog's bollocks. Brothers are shite though," Ghost says as you drive away. You laugh. It's all you can do. When you show up with a pallet of coolers, the flight crew is ready to deny you until you hand over your certificates and small box of jerky to share between them. They eagerly call over the forklift to load the pallet, and you spend the whole trip listening to hunting stories from their childhood and telling your own with Ghost listening quietly at your side.

Captain Price is there waiting on the tarmac when you land. His eyes bulge when he sees how many coolers you brought back. "I take it the hunt was successful then," he teases.

"Yeah, just a bit. Bet you thought the freezers were overkill, eh?"

He laughs, "You know I did. Set them up anyway. Welcome home, kids," he says, ruffling your hair as he wraps you in a hug and gripping Ghost's arm in a friendly squeeze. You smile up at him, happy to be home with your team.

#ghost cod #cod #cod fluff #cod x female reader #simon ghost riley

85 notes · View notes