#i really hope they pick up from riley and shit or close i need to see more.of that and of that blonde who actually looks a lot like the

[the-acid-pear]

[grippingbeskar]

coming home - simon ‘ghost’ riley

— simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

— warnings - adult content minors dni (18+) mxf, ghost has a filthy mouth, praise kink (?), pretty soft compared to all the ghost s*** out there tbh, slight description of injury and mentions of death. kinda sad ghost but he fucks it out :)

a/n: i have fallen down the ghost hole. just wanted some domestic shit, also the shower description is just something i want in my dream home so it’s self indulgent as fuck! hope you enjoy. xx (also shout-out to @dinahmadanimybeloved for the lil nudge in the right direction!! i appreciate u. xx)

He’s quiet, and that’s how you know somethings off. Most people think it’s just the way he is, being able to count on one hand the amount of words he’s spoken to them over the years. Ghost doesn’t talk unless he has to, or unless he gives enough of a fuck about whoever’s talking to him, which is rare these days. He could go hours without talking when he was away, a fact that always broke your heart a little.

The truth is, you can never get him to shut up. When he’s home, he’ll talk your ear off about anything. The dog he ran past that morning, the way you should organise your socks, how good you looked wearing his shirt. He was talkative, which is how you knew that something was wrong when he came home this time.

Being the biggest guy you knew, it amazed you how he could walk with such stealth. Even the floorboards seemed scared to creak under his frame as he came through the door. You shot up, nearly flying over the back of the couch. He wasn’t due home for another two weeks— you knew because you were supposed to pick him up from the airport. He was home early, and of course you were ecstatic, but then you saw his face, still covered in that bone white mask, and you knew it wasn’t all good news.

“Simon.” You whisper as you walk towards him. He’d closed the door behind him, locking it, but hadn’t moved from there. Usually you were both bursting with energy when he came home, excitement and adrenaline pumping through your bodies at the long awaited reunion. He was looking down at you, and when you finally stood close enough, one of his hands came up, gingerly cupping your face. “You’re home!”

“Hey, baby.” He says slowly, eyes holding yours. The hand he had behind his back touched your side, and you looked down, seeing about a dozen roses in a bouquet, stalks fisted in his gloved hand. “Got ‘em for you.”

“They’re gorgeous. Here—“ You take them, letting the sweet smell fill your senses and move quickly to put them in a vase on the counter— a spot reserved for whenever Simon brought you flowers. It seemed to be a constant thing, and it never failed to have you feeling like the luckiest girl in the world. “I love them. Thank-you.”

“‘Course.” The tone of his voice only confirms your suspicions about something being off, and it has your heart dropping through the floor.

“You should of told me you were coming home. I would of come picked you up!” You smile up at him, trying to gage where his mood is.

“Finished early. Thought I’d surprise you.” His hands come back to your face, holding your head up at the perfect angle. There was a significant height difference between you, so you were in a constant state of looking up at him.

“Did everything go… good?” You ask tentatively. He’d told you some of the things he’s done over there with the 141, but you always try not to pry. You know it’s brutal, and he sees the worst of the world, so when he trusts you with something, you take it to the grave. When he doesn’t, you don’t ask.

“No. Nothing did.” He says, still holding your face up to his. You bend up on your toes, pressing a soft kiss to the nose of his mask. “I just needed to see you.”

“I’m glad you’re home.” Your arms wrap around his back, pulling him closer. You press your face into his chest, sinking into the feeling of him being home. After so long, it never gets any easier. Watching him leave, never really knowing when he’d be back. If he was safe. “You want something to eat? I can make dinner.”

He shakes his head, gently pulling your face back from his chest. When your hands snake up his front, he just watches you. He hadn’t even changed out of his clothes— still had that black paint smudged across his eyes. He must of gotten straight on a plane after whatever he was doing had come to an abrupt end. Your fingertips brush his jaw, the bottom of his mask, and when you go to pull it up over his mouth and nose, he doesn’t stop you.

“Can I take it off?” You check, feeling how stiff he is under your hands. He nods once, and tilts his head, allowing you to pull it all the way off. “There you are.”

“I missed you.” He says simply, but the words pack such a punch when he looks like this. To an outsider he’s hard at nails, sharp and pointy and dangerous to get close to, but you see him under the paint and the body armour. “Missed you so fucking bad, baby.”

“Prove it.” You see a flash of his teeth, just the smallest hint of a smile, and your stomach does a backflip because it feels like a win. Then, he leans in, kissing you softly, with the care he would hold broken glass— hands guiding you forward and up, thumbs tracing gently along your cheek bones.

You sigh, nearly melting into his body. Your hands wrap around his neck, toying with the short hair that he’d cut while he was away. You always have to fix it for him when he comes home— he just hacks away at any hair hanging out of his mask, mostly getting frustrated and buzzing it off until he can get you to cut it again. When your fingertips scrape lightly along his skull, he groans into your mouth.

“Fuck.” He mutters as you catch his bottom lip between your teeth, careful to only apply a little bit of pressure. You were sure he was covered in enough painful marks as it was— you didn’t want to add to it. He leans down further, chasing your mouth, foreheads pressing together.

“You wanna talk about it?” He shakes his head then dips down, kissing your jaw, nose nudging you to the side to get better access to your neck. Your breathe hitches and you sigh his name, him smiling in response against your skin. You can feel the black smudge of his face paint slowly covering your own, like a trail of all the places he’s touched you.

“I only wanna hear you sayin’ my name like that. Don’t want to think about—“ You say his name again, drowning out the thoughts of whatever happened over there. That wasn’t now— he was here, and safe, and if he needed to be distracted, that’s exactly what you would give him.

“Need you to wash this paint off first.” You murmur, your voice a little lower than normal, making him almost shudder. You drop your hands from his neck, letting them fall slowly between your bodies before you loop your fingers in his belt buckle, walking backwards. “You’ll get me all dirty.”

“I would’a thought you’d like that.” He grabs a handful of your ass, nearly making you trip over as you step back, but he catches you easily and picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. He presses his paint covered face to yours, kissing your nose and face wherever he can reach, and you can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous you must look now, covered in smears of black.

“I do. Just want an excuse to see you naked.” You taunt in his ear as he finally reaches the shower and flicks it on, still fully clothed. “You buzzed your hair again.”

“You know I can’t do it right without you.” He puts you down, quickly ripping off his own shirt before reaching for the hem of yours.

He’s slower with it, the fabric brushing against your sides, giving you goosebumps. It doesn’t matter how many times you take your shirt off in front of him, he always looks just as dazed as he did the first time, and you always get just as nervous.

“You’re so fucking perfect, baby. Come ‘ere.”

He pulls you fully under the stream of the shower. It’s one of your favourite places in your shared house— a giant shower head that let the water fall as fine as rain, with enough space for his giant body not to have to bend at awkward angles to wash his hair (when he had some). It was also well big enough for the both of you, a feature you both utilised every morning and night you spent together.

He works at your shorts next, easily slipping you out of the now wet cotton, leaving you just in a set of underwear. They weren’t particularly cute— like you said, you would normally dress up for him to come home, but he wasn’t due for two weeks. Simon didn’t seem to mind, hands running wildly over your body, eyes on fire. You were starting to see him clearer now, the paint running off his face and down his bare chest in shadowed droplets.

“God, Simon…” You lean back just an inch, seeing the new marks on his chest and shoulder. A new bullet wound in the right arm. A gash that extends all the way up his left side. It still looked like it was healing— the stitches must of only come out a few days ago.

“I’m okay.” He says, kissing your collarbone.

“I don’t like when you get hurt.” You whimper, feeling his strong hands grab your hips, pushing your underwear down. “Are you sure—“

“Let me take your mind off it.” He leans down further, kissing your chest, and then drops completely, landing on his knees in front of you. He was so tall that he still needed to bend lower to kiss his way down, feeling his lips press softly on your hip bones, then your stomach. “Look at you. Such a pretty girl.”

He taps your inner thigh with two fingers, a silent command. You follow, spreading your legs slightly. He’s not satisfied, hooking one leg over his shoulder while the other is pinned between him and the wall. At this point you weren’t even holding yourself up— the display of brute strength making your head feel fuzzy.

“Dreamt about this.” He kisses closer, skin that hasn’t been touched in weeks nearly sparking under his manipulation. “Out on base. Couldn’t keep this pussy out of my head.”

“Simon, please.” You beg shamelessly. You have no pride when it comes to him, not when he’s holding you like this, reducing you to putty in his hands before he’s even really touched you.

“Never leaving this house again.” His words nearly get lost between your thighs. You arch your back to encourage him, but he holds you flat. “Gonna keep you here forever. Right here, just like this.”

“Simon.”

“You’d let me, wouldn’t you? You’d say my name all pretty like that and let me do whatever I wanted.” You were nodding furiously, hands finding little purchase in his short hair but it was all you could do to get him closer— “Want you to ride my face. Give me everything you’ve got.”

“Okay, please… please just—“

“What, baby?”

“Fucking touch me, Simon. Please.” You know he doesn’t respond to bad manners, so you throw as many around as you can. He smiles between your legs, kissing your thigh once more before you lose sight of his now clean face, burying himself in your pussy. “Fuck!”

He’s no stranger to eating you out— he always tells you how much he loves it, like it’s a reward for him. He always makes you see stars, too, but right now, the way he’s practically taking you apart from the middle out, it wasn’t like anything you’ve felt before. He keeps one hand on your hip, pinning you under him, the other slipping a finger inside of you, working in perfect tandem with his mouth.

You can’t decide what it is, but fuck— maybe it’s the water, how soft it falls on the both of you, combined with the overwhelming feeling of having Simon back early and safe— it was having a physical affect on you. Weak knees that were taking none of your weight in them, choked gasps of his name— your eyes roll back in your head before long, hips bucking wildly against his hold as your whole body shudders with pleasure.

“God— so fucking good for me, princess.” He says, taking a second to pull back and admire how strung out you look before diving back into you. His gaze never leaves you then, watching as your face contorts with every glide of his tongue over your clit, or how every time he moves his hand just right your whole body jolts. He seeks it out again and again, and you can feel him smiling underneath you, watching you writhe as liquid heat spreads all the way through your veins, carrying pleasure to every nerve ending you had.

It was an entire body experience, and you couldn’t even keep your eyes open anymore. You let him get rougher, at some point hooking your other leg over his shoulder, so you were completely suspended in the air. Your thighs clamped around his head, trapping him in position as you neared your high, and Simon only gripped you tighter, his hands kneading the flesh of your ass. He held you hard, in a way that you knew would leave the good kind of bruise, and the image only sky rocketed your state.

“Don’t stop, Si. Fuck— you’re so good, so fucking good, I… ah—“ You cut yourself off when he groans— really groans into you, and you feel him switch gears at the praise. He must like hearing it, how good he is at this. How good he makes you feel. While you still have the ability to talk, you keep going— anything to get him not to stop. “You feel so good, Simon. Gonna make me c— oh fuck, right there.”

You feel the stretch of two of his thick fingers, easing you open, and you know it’s out of your control. There’s an electric feeling in your stomach you don’t recognise, bordering on too much of a good thing. You almost don’t want to fall into it, but Simon, with his talented hands and mouth that’s never satiated, you wouldn’t get much of a choice. Your brain couldn’t move your legs anymore, only able to blank out and take it— take all of what Simon was so desperate to give you, and who were you not to indulge your man?

“C’mon, princess. Let me see you… just let go. Want it so bad, pretty girl.” The pet names, his tongue lapping at your sensitive nerves, his fingers curling inside of you— there was no way to avoid the plummet into overwhelming pleasure, Simons hands being the only thing holding you to the real world.

You cum with a choke of his name, and a string of indiscernible words babble out of your mouth. You hear Simon saying something, but it sounds so far off, your only focus on that feeling. He doesn’t stop, still buried inside of you as close as he can, and he doesn’t let up until your physically clawing at him, flinching away from the lap of his tongue.

You feel wrung out— like you’d just been suffocated and were slowly coming back to consciousness. It was possible you really did pass out, if you were honest. Simon was still holding you up easily, hands now holding your thighs to his shoulders, eyes wide and staring at you in fascination.

“Holy fuck, baby. That was fucking… you are so hot.” Out of breath and energy you manage to burst out laughing at his compliment, feeling yourself slowly sliding down the wall of the shower. Everything felt like jelly, but as Simon bent down to kiss you, your hand brushed against his boxers, and you tugged at them. “Yeah? You want me to fuck you now, baby?”

“Mmm.” You hum, body still twitching from the aftershocks of the biggest orgasm of your life. You tug harder at the seam of his boxers, and he kisses your forehead.

“Shh. Take a minute.” Your eyebrows furrow together, feeling a little juvenile in your fuzzy state.

“Please, Si. I’ve waited so long for this. Please, just…” You slip the fabric over his cock, already hard and waiting, and duck your hand under to stroke him gently. He swears, shuddering under your soft touch. “Don’t make me wait.”

“Turn around, princess.” He breathes, and you smile victoriously, getting another laugh out of him. “Fuckin’ insatiable.”

“Only for you.” He helps you get onto all fours, rough palms of his hands smoothing over your ass and lower back.

“Mhmm. Mine, aren’t you?” You nod, feeling him lean down to kiss your shoulder blades before you feel his cock, sliding between your legs and settling at your entrance. He gives you a second or two— it always takes you a while to adjust to the pure size of him when he gets home. You’d never say it, but you hope you never get used to it. A bit of pain with the pleasure he rings from you seems a fair trade for all the dirty things he says when he finally enters you.

You push back against him, making him hiss as a little more of his length disappears into you. He lightly smacks your ass just once and you arch into the touch. He’s never been one to throw you around, not wanting to even think about the possibility of hurting the one good thing he has in this life— but he can’t help but be memorised by the way you react when he treats you a little tougher. He does it again, and hearing your moan is apparently the last thing he needs to bottom out behind you.

You both sigh— finally feeling each other this way. There was something to be said about the first fuck when he came home. It was so much more than that. It was like something from a movie, how they called it making ‘love’. You’d always thought it one and the same— until you met Simon. He starts slow, purposeful as he drove his hips back and forth in a pace that had you feeling dizzy after just a few thrusts. He was so strong without even knowing, you had to smack your hand to the wall to keep from sliding away every-time his hips collided with yours. He hit spots inside of you you never knew you had until you met him, and it was borderline embarrassing how quickly you felt that ball of pleasure in your stomach tighten— preparing for release.

“So tight. Always t-take me so fuckin’ good. Jesus Christ.” Hearing Simon Riley stumble over his words was the ego boost of the century.

“Just like that, Si. Fuck.” You feel one of his hands sliding up higher, touching any part of you he could reach— hands brushing over your side, your tits, reaching up to tangle in your hair. When he pulls slightly it has you squeezing your eyes shut, the combination of his touch all over you making you dizzy.

He starts to come back to himself, talking constantly as he drives his hips harder and faster. Constant praises come out in a low, raspy voice, only interrupted by you chorusing them back to him. It had always been like this with him, the filter between his brain and mouth broken as soon as he got inside you, leading to a string of compliments too dirty to repeat anywhere else— but it was the hottest fucking thing in the world to you.

“C-can’t last much longer, princess. S’feels too good.” He slurs, and you look over your shoulder. His shoulders are completely relaxed, jaw slack and eyes half open, and there’s none of that stiffness from before when he came home. Now, he was in his element, not thinking about whatever went wrong on the outside— he was just here with you.

“Fuck, gonna cum, Simon— just a little m-fuck.” You didn’t have to tell him, he knows your body better than you do, and when his hand slips under your hips so that he can circle your clit in soft, quick movements, your arms drop out from under you as pleasure overwhelms you. This time, you’re pretty sure you do pass out, the only thing you can hold onto in that in-between is Simons voice.

“There it is. Fuck—yes… yes. Fuck!” He swears the whole way through as he cums, and you feel him pull out at the last second, warmth spreading over your ass and lower back. You try to pick yourself up, giving him a pretty picture, but your body is so weak that you just stay right where he puts you. His free hand grips your waist, keeping the backs of your thighs pressed to the front of his.

The water was still running a warm stream over the both of you, and when Simon’s orgasm wrings out the last few jolts of pleasure, he’s just as fucked out as you are. All but collapsing over the top of you, he keeps himself up with one arm, the other wrapping underneath both your bodies. He kisses along the back of your shoulder blades, murmuring praise into your skin.

“Baby… baby. Missed you.” He repeats, and you turn your head, finding the strength to hold yourself up a little to kiss him. Once he knows your starting to come back, he switches positions, using the arm underneath you to hold you to him as he leans himself against the wall of the shower, your back tucked to his chest.

“Missed you more.” You look up, finding him staring down at you. He smiles then, and your still a little dazed but he just looks so good when he smiles— “I love you.”

“I love you.” He repeats.

It might just be the heat of what you just did mixed with the warm stream of water above you, but you swear he blushes. No matter how many times you say it to each other, he still reacts like that. You both sit in silence for a little, your body now tired and slumping against him, held up by his arms wrapped around your middle, holding you tightly.

“You scared me a little, when you came home.” You say softly, your hands tracing along his forearm. “I never know how to make it all okay— I can’t make it okay.”

“You just gotta be here. That’s all I need.” His head dips to lean down, leaning on your shoulder.

“I will be. Always.” You say, never meaning anything more. It’s been years of you knowing Simon, just a little less than that being his, but you know this is it for you. Even when you first met him, you knew you’d always be there when he came home— waiting for him.

“We… we lost some good people this time. Just makes me think.” He hugs you closer, feeling his hands splay out in your sides. “This guy got caught in the crossfire, I don’t know what happened, but I watched them tell his girlfriend. She just lost it.”

You swallow hard, hearing his voice crack.

“The boys said they found her photo in his wallet. A ring, too. Was gonna propose.”

“Jesus.” He nods, head still firmly tucked into the crook of your neck. “I’m so sorry.”

“I had to get out, come home for a bit after this one. I don’t want… there’s so much stuff I need to do, stuff I want to tell you about, and if I didn’t make it back—“

“Don’t think like that. You’ll always come home. You promised me you would.” Your throat tightens, trying your best not to cry at a time like this. You couldn’t help it when he spoke like that.

“I know, baby. I just mean…” He takes in a long breath, then looks up, tilting your head so he could look you in the eye. “I don’t wanna leave here without you knowing how much I— that I…”

“I know.” You let your fingertips drag softly along his jaw, but he shakes his head.

“No, I… fuck— I’m sorry.” You sit up, a little worried about where this is going. His hands leave your waist, holding your face in the same gentle way he did when he came home. “It just… you deserve so much, and I want to give it to you. The whole flight over— longer than that, I’ve been thinking about asking you something. I just don’t know how.”

“You can ask me anything.” Kneeling between his legs, your hands press to his chest, feeling the racing of his heart. You lean forward, kissing him, telling him all the words you can’t fit into the moment. Whatever he takes from it seems to be enough— because as well as he knew you, you knew him too. He pulls away, and when he does, you don’t see any traces of the man people seem to fear, or hate.

You just see him.

You nearly hold your breath in anticipation, watching as his eyes flit between your mouth and your eyes.

“Simon.” You say again, and his eyes flutter closed. Then he pulls you forward, and utters two words that shift your entire world on its axis.

“Marry me.”

[empresskylo]

beneath the mask ✩ chapter 4 ⬅ch. 3

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠CHAPTER TAGS | afab!reader. kinda mean!ghost. forced proximity. blood, war, and death. wc 5.3k. ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | this one was fun to write!! it's a bit longer than previous chapters too. thank you for all the messages and ideas for this fic, i hope i do it justice! and as usual, feedback is appreciated <3

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

...al mazrah…

you sat trembling on board the razor-1, your bag tucked between your legs, wedged nervously between two insanely muscled marines that made you feel minuscule in comparison. ghost stood as the aircraft began to land and soap gave you a reassuring look from across the terminal. 

you undid your seatbelt and you felt your fingertips vibrate as they clung to your tactical vest, all of your adrenaline was starting to make you feel sick. 

“this is capture or kill,” soap had said to you. “but we need him alive.”

“that’s where i come in,” you mumbled under your breath. 

soap nudged you on the shoulder. “don’t worry so much. you’ll hang back while we infiltrate the base hassan is camped up in. then you can swoop in to save the day when i have him bleeding out on the floor.” you rolled your eyes at soap’s confidence. “easy.”

“right,” you mocked, trying to hide the terror that was slowly seeping into your bones. 

ghost began rambling off orders, the aircraft shaking as it made contact with the ground, and you tried to instill it in your brain that you had nothing to be so fearful about; this was just another mission for the guys. they did things like this all the time for the sake of their country. but the fact that you had never been on the frontline before kept niggling your mind. you began to wonder if you were really made for this kind of shit.

it wasn’t that long ago you had wanted nothing more than to join the military to help wounded soldiers when you realized you had nothing left for you back home. after your friend died in combat, an injury that could have been mended if they had enough medics in their arsenal, you decided to put on a brave face and save soldiers just like him. regardless of what you thought about war, you wanted to be a medic, meaning neutral ground. you were there to mend the fallen, it didn’t matter to you what side they were on.

and as much as you didn’t like to brag or be filled with a sense of pride–it always made you uncomfortable–it was just a technicality to say you were at the top of your class. the best of the best , as price had said. 

“keep up,” ghost grunted to you as he turned to exit the craft, walking down the ramp. you shook yourself out of your head-pounding thoughts and quickly followed the group of men out of the ship, leaving team alpha behind. 

you stumbled onto the ground, the strays of your hair that stuck out from under your beanie beneath your helmet fluttered in the wind as the ship took off to take team alpha downrange. 

“razor-1, all bravo deployed. moving to secondary hlz,” the pilot said over the comms for everyone to hear. 

your eyes locked onto soap’s, his gun at the ready. he nodded his head, urging you to follow him. you both made your descent with the rest of bravo, willing your hands not to shake as you held your gun up, your night vision goggles set over your eyes.

“all stations- razor-1 is bracketed, we’re getting lit!” the pilot’s anxious voice echoed in your ears. “incoming- flares! flares!”

you watched as the horizon lit up in front of you, hustling to stay beside soap. 

“shit that was close!” another voice spoke. 

and then, an urgent “second missile!”

you tensed, scurrying after the group of men who crept down the small incline. things were picking up fast. you had barely been out of the ship–it was certainly less than two minutes–and explosions and gunfire were already filling the air.

“oh fuck…!”

“razor-1 going down! we’re going down!”

your teeth clenched as you switched into a run, all your gear slowing you down and making you huff your breaths. 

“stay close!” you heard soap yell in your ear. 

you nodded even though you knew he couldn’t see you. the smell of ash began to fill your senses.

“hold up,” ghost commanded. the team stopped, a small explosion erupting at the bottom of the hill where building 1 was located.

“alpha, what’s your status?”

coughing and wheezing breaths harrowingly echoed on the comms. 

“alpha, how copy…?” ghost said with a bit more urgency. 

“bravo- alpha is immoblie. multiple critical!” a brief pause sounded between the man’s reply. “oh, shit! we’re taking effective fire!”

you clenched your gun. what if you, or soap, or ghost had been assigned alpha? you sucked in a breath of air and tried to calm your racing heart. 

“alpha, we’re moving to building 1. hold tight.” ghost’s voice was so smooth as he spoke like this type of shit was a regular occurrence to him. the same candace as someone who was greeting a friend in a coffee shop. his nonchalance sent shivers up your spine. 

“ghost, we need to secure that crash site now,” soap spoke.

“first, we clear for hassan, that takes the heat off alpha. then we secure the crash site. clear?”

“roger that.”

“let’s move.”

ghost, hustling towards the rocky house, swept into your line of sight. soap turned his head and when he saw you were close behind him, he took off after ghost. 

“force up to the house.” ghost whispered. 

you stumbled over the uneven terrain, the weight of all your gear and the obstruction the goggles caused was making it difficult to see. 

the sound of shuffling pants, boots crunching the pebbled earth, and the slight hum of machinery was the only sound in your ears when no one was speaking. you felt your chest tighten with nerves. 

suddenly, with your body realizing the height of the situation, you began to steady. you were good under pressure. exceptionally good. this is why you were here , you told yourself. you could do this .

you heard an enemy soldier shouting something in the distance that you couldn’t quite make out–he must have been speaking arabic.

the group rounded up outside the house and ghost scaled the edge of the building. a man handed him a sledgehammer. “breacher up,” he said faintly before he slammed it into the wooden door. you felt a chill catch along the hairs of your arms as he broke open the door in one swift motion, you could see his muscles taut even through his thick layers of clothes. 

“sweep through,” ghost called. soap was at the doorway and began shooting.

you tried to pay attention to your surroundings as you waited for soap and ghost to clear the way. the blazing fire in the distance sent eerie shadows along the buildings and barren trees. 

“first deck clear! negative on hassan,” a bravo said. 

another replied, “copy that, second deck’s clear!”

“rog,” ghost grunted. 

you slipped into the building behind the men, watching as they scanned their surroundings and made themselves safe behind barriers. 

“contact! building 2!” a voice shouted. 

you stumbled back against a storage cabinet as gunfire ricocheted off the walls. 

“they know we’re here!” ghost shouted. in a startling motion, he turned to you, spying you immediately as you shifted your weight. “stay down!”

you nodded and huddled behind a workbench. the men began shooting rounds at the men in building 2. the sharp metallic clank of a bullet hitting a metal desk off to your right made you jump, the shell clinking on the floor like a fallen coin. you felt your eyes widen slightly. 

“all bravo, move on building 2!” ghost stated, his voice a welcoming sound through your headset. you tried to focus on his voice instead of the shouts of men and blasting echoes of weapons.

ghost and someone from alpha spoke to each other as the men started their way towards building 2. soap appeared beside you and helped you up. “you alright, lass?”

you nodded, “m’good.” you brushed yourself off and followed soap as he led you out of the building and towards another that was roughly 100 feet before your squad. you could see ghost already approaching the second building, his feet shuffling as he stayed out of the line of sight of the open doorway. 

shouts in arabic made you stagger as you walked. gunshots in the distance followed by the occasional explosion filled the otherwise gorgeous night. you slid your goggles up and glanced at the starry sky. if it wasn’t for the bloodshed unfolding before you, you could easily see yourself laying out on one of these hills, the cool night air ruffling your hair as you watched the stars–they were so bright without all the light pollution.

soap slid up to one of the open doors and motioned for you to huddle beside another fellow sergeant. soap was bundled in his uniform, his sleeves rolled up, and his night vision goggles on–same as you. you wondered if you looked as intimidating as he did. 

“prep for breach,” ghost said. 

“7-1 moving interior,” soap responded. 

he quickly shot down three enemy soldiers before disappearing inside the building. you followed in pursuit, your heart hurting as you saw slouched bodies pool with blood, even if you knew they were the enemy. you hurried after soap and caught a glimpse of ghost using his knife to slice into a man with barely any effort. blood began to coat his gloves. 

you crept behind soap as he slowly moved up the stairs to the second floor. gunshots repeatedly fired in front of the two of you. 

“i’m hit!” a bravo shouted. 

you dashed up the stairs but soap pulled you back before you reached the top, gripping your utility vest to bring you into him. “hey! wait till i clear it!” 

“okay, then hurry up!” you huffed as soap went ahead of you and leaned around the corner, taking out the men in the other room. 

you used that time to scurry off behind him and out onto the terrace where the injured soldier had crawled in order to get out of firing range. 

you crouched beside him and slung your bag off your shoulder. “here,” you said as you pressed a cloth to his bullet wound. “hold pressure!”

a loud shotgun in the next room made you jump. you turned to look, your hands deep in your bag. you spotted soap and let out a breath of relief knowing it wasn’t him at the end of the barrel. 

you heard soap’s footsteps return out onto the deck. “one’s in the hallway,” the soldier said to soap. 

you worked deftly to pack and wrap the wound as soap slid off down the hall and you heard a strangled cry as he knifed someone. 

“ghost, enemy rockets down,” soap said in your ear. 

“thanks,” the man before you mumbled as his hand replaced yours where he began to hold the bandage. you heard soap speaking in the next room.

“the house is clear. time to go,” ghost muttered in your ear. 

“it just grazed you,” you said to the sergeant. “you should be alright as long as we limit the bleeding.”

soap appeared beside you moments later, helping the man up as he limped. “you good to walk?” 

the man nodded. 

“all bravo circle up outside,” ghost commanded. 

“let’s go,” soap said down to you. 

you ran after soap down the steps and out into the field. you spotted the crash site not too far ahead and you felt your ears ring seeing the formidable tower of flames in the backdrop.

it didn’t take long to approach the ship and you followed soap and ghost as they entered the terminal.

“we got five k.i.a., one wounded. it’s just my gun and i’m low on ammo.” 

you slid past soap and rushed to the man on the ground. the sergeant was knocked out cold and you quickly tried to make a mental note of his vitals. you tried to remember his name, but with everything that was occupying your brain right now, it eluded you.

you knew the others were talking, but you didn’t hear them as you honed in on the man bleeding out before you. 

“get your gun on that tree line,” you finally deciphered through your hazy thoughts as ghost spoke.

you looked over your shoulder as loud explosions went off and shook the craft. 

“fuck, man! fuck,” the alpha said. 

“you called it, lt.!” soap said as he aimed his gun out the ship’s window. 

as you bandaged the man, ghost and soap began firing rapidly. 

“they’re getting close. secure the ramp!”

your heart felt like it was in your throat. another bomb went off and the craft shook violently. you yelped, falling sideways. 

“sergeant!” ghost called. you pushed yourself up and tried to orient yourself. ghost shouted your name when you wouldn’t reply. you looked up at him. “you alright?”

you stared at him before your eyes flickered to soap who was shooting his gun out the window. 

“are you alright?” ghost said more forcefully, his frame bending in half, his face now in your direct line of sight to grab your attention. it hadn’t registered that ghost was talking to you. you were only frazzled from the rocking of the craft, the explosions ringing in your ear, but you were otherwise safe behind ghost and soap, so you weren’t sure why he was so set on making sure you were okay. 

however, ghost seemed to not be able to accept that you were okay until you verbally told him. 

“yes,” you said faintly. ghost turned back to aiming his gun out the window without a second thought.

after another minute of gunfire, there was a lull. 

“we clear?” soap asked. 

“for now…” ghost replied. 

you finished wrapping the arm of the bleeding soldier, and assessed that he had hit his head and had knocked himself out. 

“alpha, you’re with us.” ghost commanded as he took off out of the ship. you and the men followed. you spoke over the comms to let the others know you left a soldier back in the crash site. he was wounded, but would be okay. 

“those fuckers used us as bait, didn’t they?” alpha 0-2 said. 

“they’re well supplied and fighting relentlessly. thanks to hassan,” ghost said unhappily. 

soap looked back at you. “keep up. we’re gonna need ya.”

you hustled behind him, your pistol at the ready.

the lot of you ran a wide berth, sprinting towards building 3, hoping hassan was inside. the sharp whistle of a bullet spiraled past you. 

“a.q. sniper on the roof! get down!” ghost shouted to everyone. before you even had a chance to move, ghost was pushing you down into the grass. you gasped as you were squashed beneath him, laid out on the dirt. he held his gun up and aimed at the roof as he lay beside you. 

“soap, take out the shooter. rest o’ ya stay low until we’re all clear!” ghost said, not acknowledging the fact that he had just pressed you flat to the ground, his body half covering yours. 

soap shot a bullet. “sniper down!”

ghost rolled off of you and stood up, giving you a quick hand as he heaved you upright. he didn’t even look at you before he took off running towards building 3. your entire body was tingling.

it looked like a gallant eruption of fireworks above the building as enemy bullets fired toward you. air support lighting up the sky. soap was a few feet behind you and picked off the snipers one by one. you followed close behind the others as you approached the building. 

soap was quick to follow, coming up from behind and going up the stairs and into the decrepit house. “7-1, moving interior,” he said. 

glass exploding rippled in the building and you peeked inside to see soap shooting someone down. 

“check the bodies, we need positive i.d. on hassan,” ghost said as he slid off to go in the right-side entrance. 

you hunched over slightly as you followed behind him, looking down at ghost’s trail of corpses as you did, checking for hassan. 

“anyone have eyes on hassan?” ghost asked after a minute. 

“negative on hassan,” soap replied. 

you tripped over rubble and fell to your knees with a huff. “shit,” you muttered to yourself. your foot was lodged in the concrete chunks. you tried to pull it free but that just shifted the rubble further, a large piece falling over your ankle. it was too heavy for you to move yourself. the house shook.

“sergeant,” ghost said, making you look up. he had backtracked when he realized you were no longer behind him. 

“i can’t get my foot loose,” you said. 

arabic echoed down the hall making your head snap up in alert. ghost began moving faster, squatting down as he approached you and heaving the rubble aside to get your foot out in one easy motion. 

“ow, fuck,” you said, biting your lip to try and muffle your sounds. 

ghost’s eyes flickered to yours before he moved the last piece that set your foot free. 

the rest of bravo had already moved to the antithetical end of the house when the voices began to close the distance. 

“shit,” ghost mumbled, pulling you up. he did so with such force that you collided into him, your hands landing against his chest with a gasp.

the men sounded close and you counted at least four different voices. their candace rose as they edged closer, like they were right around the corner when you were moved by ghost and suddenly faced with darkness. 

“wha–” 

ghost’s hand covered your mouth to silence you, pushing you against a wall. your eyes adjusted and you saw a sliver of light pour in through the slats of the door. ghost had pulled you into a closet. a very tiny closet at that. 

your chest was pressed flesh against ghost’s, the room far too small to hold yourself and ghost–who was already too big to fit in a closet on his own, let alone one with you. 

you could feel his chest move up and down as he steadied his breathing. your hands were on his utility vest. the voices of the men were now right outside the door. your fingers gripped tight on his vest as you tried to be as quiet as possible. he slowly let his hand fall to his side when he could trust you to be silent.

why wasn’t ghost attacking them? you’ve seen him take down trained men in less than two seconds. so why did he decide to hide now? was four too many for him? you doubted it, but you also tried not to think of the logistics because all that swam through your mind was how close ghost was to you. there was almost no space between your bodies, his front flesh against yours as he pushed you against the wall. 

a rectangle of light slid across ghost’s face, illuminating his eyes which were visible now that his goggles were turned up on his helmet, making the brown in them gleam. like he could feel you staring, he looked down at you and you felt your face heat. you shifted your stance, trying to widen the distance between your bodies but your back was already flat against the wall. there was nowhere to go. 

“what’re you doin’?” he said quietly.

you glared at him in response as you continued to slightly shift your body, wanting to at least have it so your side was pressed against him and not your front. you tried to shuffle your feet, wanting to turn, to push him back a bit, but you ended up just rubbing against him instead.

“quit squirming!” he finally hissed, his hands coming out to rest on either side of your head. 

well now you were just stuck in an awkward stance so you tried to move your hips a bit, wanting to pull them away from ghost and back to how you were originally standing, but with the limited space, you were essentially just moving your hips against his own. 

ghost growled in his throat and you stopped moving and let your breathing steady. you felt something hard press against your stomach and your eyes widened as you stared at ghost’s chest. 

oh my god, you thought.

you couldn’t help yourself as your eyes flickered to his own, his eyes already pouring into you. your breath got caught in your throat. “i told ya to quit fuckin’ wiggling ‘round,” he said as if that made things more appropriate. 

a flash of heat ebbed through your core. you told yourself that this was purely a physical thing– men could get turned on by a goddamn gust of wind if it hit them the right way. this had nothing to do with the fact that it was you pressed against him. this kind of bodily response would have happened no matter who it was against him.  

you went to clench your thighs together in nerves and heat but you were stopped by ghost’s thigh. you realized the ceiling in there was too short for him and he had to hunch over, his knees bending and leaning on the wall between your own legs. oh my god , you thought again.

your face went red hot. fuck, of course you were stuck with ghost in the world’s smallest closest.

ghost’s eyes traced your face when he felt your legs press against his own, a sudden flare igniting in them. 

oh no, did he think you were… you quickly worried. you wondered if ghost could tell you had been squeezing your legs together to subdue the quick sweeping sensation of arousal you got–this was not the time or place!

ghost’s head shifted ever so slightly closer to your own and his eyes were now disguised by the shadows of the closet. you could feel his warm breath against your face as he panted through his mask. you were trapped. he had you pinned, his large arms encasing your head, his leg between your own, his face inching closer to yours. 

you felt your breath get lost in your throat, your mind suddenly going blank. 

“ghost! ghost, where are you?” soap’s voice broke through both of your ears. 

ghost halted any and all movement, his eyes flickering between your own. you realized you no longer heard iranian voices and wondered how long the men had been out of range. 

it was as if ghost realized that at the same time you did because he pushed away from you and slid out the door, into the dusty and war-torn living room. now that he was away from you and not clogging your brain, you thought you might have imagined the way he had been edging toward you.

“deck one secure. any i.d. on hassan?” ghost spoke, his voice strained. 

you slid out of the closet behind him. “negative, lt.” soap replied. 

ghost turned to you as you stumbled into him, your ankle giving out at the most opportune time. 

“ shit ,” you grunted. ghost turned his head to look at you, his eyes glowing in the flames that brewed inside the building. “sorry,” you muttered. 

“keep close,” he said to you. you felt your chest ignite. you had to control your eyes from shifting to his waist to see what you felt moments earlier. you were surprised your willpower was strong enough. 

ghost led you around the bend and up a set of stairs, soap appearing beside you both. “pushing second deck.”

you slid on your night vision goggles and watched as ghost scurried to the side of a door when he made it to the top of the steps. a man opened it and walked through, ghost grabbing him and slamming him against the wall, the man’s gun pressed to his chest. in two swift motions, ghost shot his abdomen then his head, letting the body sink down. 

jesus . you always knew ghost was a ruthless killer, but that was more so knowledge in theory. it was another thing entirely to watch it unfold before your own eyes. 

you followed the men as they stealthed into the next room. you heard soap’s gun go off, and then ghost’s voice. “clear. hassan’s everywhere…” 

you could hear hassan’s voice as it played in the distance, seemingly from every room. a video on loop of him speaking nonsense sat in the shadows like a horror movie. you felt a chill run down your legs realizing that no matter which way you turned, hassan’s voice was not far off. 

“everywhere but here,” you mumbled. ghost’s eyes scanned you up and down before trailing on into the next room. you swore every hair on your body stood on its ends. 

“the perpetrators of general ghorbrani’s execution must be sentenced to the death penalty and the world must witness the death of those responsible!” hassan’s iranian accent sang through a crackling radio. 

you and soap poked around, not finding anything of use, apart from soap spotting hassan’s uniform, meaning he had recently been here. 

“so he was here,” you muttered.

“lost him when we secured the crash site,” ghost spoke, looking between you and soap.

“are you sayin’ we shouldn’t have helped?” soap asked.

ghost averted his eyes on his next words as if he didn’t like what he was about to say. “choices have consequences…” his eyes gazed over to yours, burning holes through his skull mask. you could see the disappointment and guilt that was attached to his statement. you were surprised at how much emotion he was able to exude through just his eyes. you wondered if he knew that. 

“all bravo- we got movement out here,” someone said over the comms. 

ghost reached up to click his receiver, his eyes still on yours, “on the way.”

you followed behind the two men as the continued to speak. as you made it out behind the house, ghost spoke, “what do we got?”

“a warehouse. roll up doors open. heard somethin’ inside.”

ghost spoke with a sense of assuredness, “copy, let’s clear it.”

you trailed the men as they all took off towards the large warehouse, ghost and soap hoping that hassan was nestled inside. 

you rested your back against the building as the men started inside, gunshots and smoke bombs going off as they fought the enemy planted in the warehouse. 

“all alone?” a husky voice with a thick iranian accent spoke. you looked to your right, your hands grabbing your gun, startled, when a man disarmed you in a quick, fluid motion. 

you yelped as his hand wrapped around your neck, pressing you forcefully to the exterior wall. you saw static stars begin to spread across your vision. 

shit, shit, shit.

your legs flailed as you tried to kick and squirm your way out of his grip. his hand held you tighter. you swore your feet began to lift off the ground. recalling all the training you had done the last two weeks, you propped your knee up, bending it as much as you could against your chest, then shot it out with all the strength you could manage. the man stumbled, releasing you, as he collapsed onto the ground. 

“eahira” bitch . he scrambled to get up and you panicked, trying to get your knife out of it’s sheath. 

before the man could grab you again, his body just a hair from your own, a bullet pierced his skull. flecks of his blood squirted across your exposed face like red freckles. you stood in complete shock, the man sinking to the ground with a thump.

it was ghost that replaced the dead man, his hands resting on your shoulder, his deep voice saying your name repeatedly. 

you finally looked up at him. “are you okay?” you swear you could see a bit of pride in his eyes as he took you in.

you nodded weakly, wincing as your neck muscles throbbed in pain from the small movement. 

ghost yanked your mask up to look at your neck, already beginning to bruise. 

his eyes darkened as they met yours again. “if that fucker wasn’t already dead, i’d tie him up and rip off his limbs one by one for that.”

you couldn’t help the astonished laugh from escaping your lips at the exorbitant threat. then a pang of heat surfaced when you realized ghost had made no such threats as his other men were picked off. he also didn’t seem to rush to their aid immediately. yet here he was… with you. 

“hassan,” you said meekly. 

ghost’s hands left your shoulders as he straightened. you felt a bit of sadness at the loss of contact. 

“not here. found an arsenal of ballistic missiles. american missiles.”

your eyes widened at the information. “and shepperd…”

“already alerted.”

you nodded. “so that’s it then?” you asked, referring to the war trail you and your men left behind with nothing to show for it. 

ghost gave a nod back. “we’re one step closer. we’ll find him.” 

you don’t know why you took his word with such ease, but you knew he meant what he said. ghost wouldn’t rest until he had hassan in his clutches. 

day broke by the time a humvee arrived to carry you all back to base. the injured men were loaded on one, the rest of bravo and alpha on another. there were significantly fewer men than when you started this hours ago. you felt a heavy feeling swarm your chest. 

you were busy making sure your bag was closed and that you had all your things in it when you looked up and saw ghost step into the back of the vehicle. 

you scurried to catch up, the last one as you climbed into the back. as you went to stand, the humvee took off, making you stumble and lose balance. 

fuck , was the last thought you had as you felt yourself falling backward out of the vehicle. your arms flailed, trying to grab onto something, when a hand gripped your vest, yanking you forward and onto the humvee. 

you looked up in relief to find ghost glaring at you. his hand was still tight around your tactical vest, the other men closest to the back were out of their seats in an effort to grab you. but of course, ghost got there first. 

his eyes bore into your own, an odd wave of spite in them. 

you knew it was your fault for dilly-dallying, but was he really going to be upset at you for almost falling out of the vehicle? it should cause more annoyance than anger, really. 

you gulped and ghost released you, moving back to his seat. you stared after him until you felt soap touch your wrist. “sit,” he mumbled. 

you focused on him instead of your lieutenant and sat in the empty seat beside soap. 

you shifted your bag so it was on your lap, the men around you silent, all of them exhibiting a mix of disappointment in their mission and exhaustion. 

you felt his eyes on you–something that seemed to happen a lot lately. you tried to resist, but you looked in his direction and met his gaze. you thought he’d look away, but he held you in a challenge across the truck. he still had all his gear on when most others had stripped some of theirs off.

he sat a bit forward, resting his arms on his knees as he glared at you. 

you felt your heartbeat race and you felt like you might be sick with all the adrenaline running through you today–it couldn’t be healthy.

you finally coward away and looked down at your bag. a looming feeling coursed through your body. for whatever reason, the moment he pulled you into the truck felt like it was a breaking point for him. he was right back to hating you. despising everything you did. you felt yourself shrink in on yourself.

you never felt his eyes leave you the entire way back. 

chapter 5 ➡

[awkwardgtace]

Escaped Cake Topper

day 16 Celebrating more mafia au!

There's a party for the daughter of the Kamia's, a poor human's been snuck along as a gift. When they escape will they really get away or just be found by one of the attending mafia giants?

TW: Fear of being eaten, mouthplay (a lot of it), uhhh the general bad shit mafia au exists with

Escaped Cake Topper

Sloan held their breath as steps approached. They managed to escape. The giant who brought them didn’t close the box well, a spot just big enough to squeeze out was easy to find. The guy didn’t check for any weapons either, it made it easy to get untied. They would survive this. They wouldn’t just be the topper for some giant’s cake.

Unfortunately they were trapped in a much bigger box. The box they escaped into was lifted up. They panicked, giants had to be carrying them somewhere. All they did was go from a single cake to a box of bread and possibly cheeses. They were terrified.

“I can’t believe we’re doing all this for the Kamia girl,” one of the giant’s said. Hidden in the pastries, Sloan panicked and slid closer to a bit of bread bigger than themself.

“I mean the family’s been gaining power and she hasn’t been out much, could give us a good chance to win her over,” another one said.

“Yeah but she picked this place. No humans can even enter the city, it’s hard for any of us to bring some in. Why wouldn’t she want a party with the best treats?”

“Maybe she feels bad for them.” The second one laughed, at least Sloan assumed it was the second because of how far it was. “Could you imagine that? The daughter of Vitus ‘The Crunch’ Kamia feeling bad for humans? She probably just hates them, could even think they’re pests.”

“Careful, don’t wanna get that family angry at you. You know they hate those names. Besides, the family keeps a bunch around. That one always with the eldest, what's its name, River, Riley or something.”

“Well maybe he shouldn’t make such a show of biting down on humans he eats if they’re keeping some close. Can only imagine how little those things manage to do their jobs.”

The box they were in moved to a hard surface. The top of the box started to move. In fear they dived into one of the breads near them. It wasn’t a sweet one, it should be ignored. The light bled into the bread. Hands entered and were grabbing things. They had to cover their mouth when the piece they were in was grabbed.

“At least these things smell good. Sort of like a human,” They managed to look up at a terrifying grin. “Think they’d notice if I took one?”

“I think it’s not worth the risk. The Kamias are here and she’s watching us. Wouldn’t wanna piss off the girl our next in line is eyeing.”

“That’s true, you put his special gift under the table?”

“Yeah it’s right where it needs to be…”

The giant voices trailed off, but Sloan missed who these Kamias were. They were focused on the monsters who had just walked in. The white haired one towered over the giants around him, the one with a bluish hair color was taller than others too. At least she didn’t tower like the white haired one. They’d never seen giants that big and they didn’t want to meet the two either. All they had to do was survive the night and get away. It should be fine…

Sloan tried to stay calm as they watched the massive giants. The hope to avoid the two started to die as they separated from the group. Both the white haired man and the blue haired girl came to stand next to the table Sloan was on. They did their best to shuffle back, hopefully out of sight.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” the white haired one’s voice vibrated through Sloan. A terrifying bass they had never heard before. “It’s not going to be easy, they’ll-”

“Dad I know. I know what to expect. You all made sure I’d be ready when I had to do this,” the blue haired one said. Her voice was almost melodic and that made it more terrifying. “I know how to act tonight. Don’t worry so much.”

A chuckle from the bigger one, “Alessia, you can’t expect me not to worry. You could leave still, you don’t have to do this…”

“No, I’m a part of this family in both senses of the word.” The woman who must be Alessia moved. Sloan got a clear look of brown eyes staring near them. They had to force themself not to shiver. “Besides, it would be pretty bad if I walked out now.”

“That doesn’t matter. Don’t force yourself.”

“Dad really, did you worry this much about Felix? Tell him he could leave a hundred times?” 

Another bone rattling chuckle. “Of course I did, and I’ll do the same for Rhys and I’ll be ten times worse when it comes to Ryder.”

Sloan watched the man place a hand on his chest. For a second it almost looked like he’d smiled at his pocket, but that didn’t make sense. Steps started to shake the table they were on, the two massive giants easily shifted their focus to the new one. Sloan just wanted to run, tears slipped from their eyes.

“Ah, Vitus, Alessia, how nice to see you both,” a new voice said. It almost succeeded in making Sloan yelp. “After all this time you’ll be more active with us, Miss Kamia.”

“Dominic,” the man, probably Vitus, growled. “Something you need from us right now?”

“Just coming to say hello to the woman of the hour. You know she looks so much like Dabria, I can only imagine how they’d look side by side.” Alessia held out her hand. Vitus placed a hand on her shoulder. The two had a defensive look to them.

Sloan watched the new giant take Alessia’s hand and kiss it. The bigger one seemed barely controlled in his anger. The new one had a look that could only be described as gluttonous as he looked at her. As the new giant stood to leave Sloan heard him mumble, “Maybe we’ll find out some day…” It was barely audible for them let alone the giants.

That did nothing to stop the anger of the bigger one, of Vitus. A fist slammed down on the table Sloan hid on. The bread they were in was dislodged from its place. They were close enough to touch the not so subtly shaking fist of the angry giant. They had their hands on their mouth to stop anything from slipping out. These people would kill them.

“The Sulvans only have so long,” Alessia mumbled. Even her melodic voice had a tinge of a growl that made her intimidating. The fist disappeared, but Sloan could barely breathe.

“Right… We’ll be working on that tonight. You know who’s with us if something happens?” Vitus’s words were laced with the growl from the man’s chest. 

“Yes.”

“You’re not holding any weapons?”

“No, I don’t need them anyway. If I can take down Felix and Rhys without any I don’t need one for the people here.” Sloan was conflicted by the bright smile the woman offered. They’d heard of kind giants, but there was no way she could be one. Not if she was in the mafia.

They gasped as more giants started to approach. They put all their effort into forcing themself into the bread. None could see them. If a single giant saw them they’d die. They caught one last whisper from Vitus, “Be safe. I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Alessia! We almost thought you wouldn’t come,” one of the new giants called.

Sloan was tired of listening. They covered their ears and tried to have the bread help stop the noise. Hearing them talk would make it worse. Unfortunately they weren’t lucky. A scream stuck in their throat as a hand grabbed the bread they were in. A giant was going to eat them…

The movements were too fast. They couldn’t see who had grabbed them. Teeth slammed down removing the bread hiding them. They panicked, pulling their only weapon out. It felt oversized until this moment. They tried to attack the teeth, but all they managed was to make themself more afraid. The long strip of metal was crushed in between the gigantic teeth. Pulling it back they saw it was still sharp and stabbed it into the gums around them.

“Ow,” the melodic voice they’d been hearing overwhelmed them.

“Is everything alright?” someone asked the giant Sloan was trapped with. 

“Yeah, I just bit my tongue. I’ll be right back.”

Sloan was dead…

Alessia rushed out of the room. There was only one bathroom that didn’t let others walk in on her. She tried to keep a smile as she moved. Dodging a number of giants next in line in their families who wanted to talk to her. She found the bathroom and let out a heavy sigh as the door locked. There was another prick in her mouth, if someone had slid something into the food there would be much bigger trouble to face.

Standing over the sink she spit the food she’d been eating out. Gasping when she saw a human sitting in the sink with chunks of bread around them. There was nothing sharp on them as best she could tell, carefully she reached into her mouth and pulled a crushed metal thing. She couldn’t even make out what it was supposed to be.

Without thinking she dropped it on the counter and focused on the human. Scared, teary eyes stared up at her. There wasn’t a lot of time to get them out. She couldn’t hand them off to anyone either. Too many eyes here, too many watching for a sign of how she was wrong. Every action would be watched tonight, every oddity recorded for later. All they needed was for her to reveal the Kamia’s secret.

“Are you hurt?” she whispered. She needed time to think and making sure they were ok could give her that.

“Please don’t kill me!” they begged. Alessia just wanted to hold them close and promise they were safe.

A bang on the door shocked her out of her thoughts. There wasn’t time for this. She didn’t have time to explain. Not when someone could eavesdrop. She ran through all her options. It would be easy to accuse her of carrying a weapon and search her, so that meant her dress wasn’t an option. Her bag and coat were left with all the others. There was no telling who’d be in there later. Who’d go through bags looking exactly for a little human like this.

Another bang. There was one option… Alessia turned on the water, rinsing the bread from the human. Admittedly now she knew why that bread had smelled better than the others. She was glad she took it at least. She pinched the rinsed off human between two fingers and lifted them up. She paused with them in front of her mouth, in the mirror she couldn’t even see them.

“This is the only choice,” she whispered. 

Before they could respond she shoved the human into her mouth. She maneuvered them carefully past her teeth. A bit of a purr left her, they tasted good. Sweet. She licked at them, feeling the small hands grabbing at her tongue. She moved them beneath her tongue, an easy spot to hide them. She took a deep breath, tasting them the whole time, and left the bathroom.

Sloan was too stunned to speak. The giant woman spit them out only to eat them again. The giant tongue poked and prodded at them. A laugh almost escaped as the tongue ran down their spine. It was hard to be terrified when they were being kept safely from the teeth and the terrifying throat.

“Alessia are you alright?” someone asked. Sloan figured this is when they were killed. She had to start talking. Instead she deftly moved them under her tongue, some light filtering in as she smiled.

“I’m fine, just had to make sure I didn’t get cut by my fangs,” her voice was soft. Softer than when she’d spoken before she knew they were there. It still rumbled through their bones, but in a way that almost made them like it.

That started a strangely calm period of time. Alessia would speak, sometimes her voice was too loud or too close to understand. Sloan couldn’t tell which. Whenever there was a lull she’d poke at them again. Sometimes managing to lick their sides despite them trying to keep their arms pulled tightly together. 

They knew how dangerous this was and yet, it felt nice. The woman’s voice was strangely soothing. When she played with them it was like a massage. If they actually survived this it would be a story they never told anyone. It was enough they almost let their eyes fall closed. Then there was a loud noise from the other giants.

“My gracious and humble guests,” someone said. A voice echoing and strange. “Before we serve dinner We would like to invite the guest of honor up to say a few words.”

Sloan’s nerves quickly calmed as that was said. Alessia would just sit around and maybe even play with them more. They blushed as that thought crossed their mind. That was not something that they expected to think. Time moved slowly as they waited for the speech to start.

They panicked a bit when the tongue did move them, but only closer to the throat. The slight calm that started to settle in their heart slowly began to die. Were they just a fun toy this whole time? Now that dinner was coming, was it the end? They did their best to dig their hands into the tongue over them. The smile let in bits of light again, light that terrified Sloan.

“Thank you so much,” Alessia said. Sloan’s heart jumped to their throat. Her voice was louder now, almost hard to understand. “I appreciate all of you coming tonight to celebrate my birthday. As of tomorrow I should be helping out at my family’s bar. I certainly wouldn’t mind seeing some of you there!”

From Sloan’s position they heard, or maybe felt, the subtle growl in the words. They tried not to shiver. They didn’t want to be remembered by this giant anymore. This is who they were brought for, the one that got them tied up and stuck on a cake. They tried not to let tears fall as they let go of the tongue above them. Words were said that were muffled by Alessia's mouth, but they didn’t care.

“You’re safe,” Alessia’s words were like air. Sloan thought they imagined them. They were sure they had until the woman’s tongue moved them again. They were like a piece of candy to her, but she still carefully licked the tears off their face.

That wasn’t the last time she said something so quietly that only they heard it. At least they thought they were the only one to hear it. It was in between times of absolute terror. With dinner served they weren’t just in a giant’s mouth anymore. She had to eat around them. Maybe she didn’t have to, but she was.

Sloan watched bites bigger than them get crushed by the massive teeth before falling into darkness. Whenever she drank some of what had to be wine they were pulled from the spot she’d held them in her mouth. A few times they swallowed some coughing as soon as the liquid was gone. 

Every time they were terrified she’d swallow them down only for her tongue to gently press them against the roof of her mouth. All the liquid would be pulled down her throat, but they were held safely. She’d move them around, calmly licking the excess of the liquid off them. A few times they felt a rumble from the woman. They just hoped it was a purr…

Alessia was getting impatient. Her dad was supposed to be back before dinner. Then she could pass the human to him. No one would try anything against Vitus Kamia. They had to be panicking in her mouth. There was always another option, but that one she hadn’t tried enough. She couldn’t risk them on a chance she’d mess up. 

She was trying to keep them from getting covered in food while she ate. It wasn’t easy when she drank some wine. The worst part was how that could hurt humans if they drank too much. Each time she’d hold them with her tongue to make sure nothing happened. Although the more she drank the more she found herself wanting to keep tasting them. Purrs kept slipping.

“Miss Kamia,” she jumped as she looked at someone from her family talking to her as they held out a note. “We received a call. I was told to deliver this to you. Mister Kamia had some strict rules on how it was written.”

The giant cleared their throat and she grabbed the note. Meeting Felix Rhys is sick. The L in Felix was underlined along with the R in Rhys. That meant something happened to Ryder and they were getting him to his doctor. Her nerves at that had her quickly rolling the human around her mouth with her tongue. They tasted so good and it was kind of calming.

The note told her she was on her own, the human would be stuck with her too. She sighed, casually licking the taste of wine off of them. Dinner had ended, the party itself had another hour or so to go. She wanted to leave and get the human somewhere safe. Somewhere they could recover from whatever she’d done so far.

Alessia watched the night continuing to pass. Most often the conversation drifted away from her and she got to have fun playing with the human. She knew she shouldn’t, that it wasn’t fair to them. She just… never had something so sweet in her mouth before. So many times she would sit with her hand hiding her face to force their arm out. Then carefully try to taste each little finger. The times the fingers curled in almost made her gasp.

There were a few times she got a bit brazen. Happy to test how far they’d let her go before getting too scared. Maybe she’d had too much wine, but she was desperate to test the limits. Carefully she moved their legs between her teeth. She lowered her teeth until they held the human firmly. Then she decided she wanted to taste more of them. Trying to use her tongue to pull free their shoes.

It didn’t take long for her to get what she wanted. Each shoe was sitting on her tongue. She was happy to get a fresh taste of the human. Although the strange calm from them made her try more. She rolled them between her teeth. Lightly biting down on their whole body. At one point she managed to carefully bite their arm.

Alessia carefully pushed them back on her tongue. Just as she did, someone grabbed her shoulder. She chomped down in surprise, her own heart racing at what she had nearly done. She tried quickly to push them back under her tongue, leaving them further forward than before. Just in case.

“Alessia, it’s hard to believe you’re taller than me now,” the giant who grabbed her said. She tried not to grimace at them, but her control was slipping. She definitely had too much wine.

“Anton Sulvan, I was wondering when I’d see you,” she grinned. Close lipped, careful to keep the human safe. She’d never forgive this man for what he’d done. The pain he’d caused… the pain she caused in fear of him. 

“You didn’t think I’d miss your birthday.” He grabbed her chin and made her look at him. He always preferred this. When she had to look up. The human was shaking, she tried to reassure them. A careful movement, just to promise they were safe. A movement probably misunderstood.

“Of course not. I saw your father earlier. I could only imagine you’d be close behind. You always were. I will admit I’m a little shocked, just that sure my brothers wouldn’t be here tonight?”

“Your brothers wouldn’t cause a scene tonight of all nights.” He leaned in close, dropping a box in her lap. She swallowed, feeling the human inch further back. She pressed her tongue down on them. Holding them still. Anton pressed his mouth to her ear. “I brought you a gift. I found one who looks like the one from when we were kids. Thought you’d enjoy it. Wrapped it in a candy rope for you too.”

“That’s so kind-” She was cut off as Anton forced a kiss on her, shoving his tongue in her mouth.

Sloan finally lost it, screaming when another giant’s tongue entered Alessia’s mouth. Their scream was covered by her own shout as she bit down on the giant tongue. Blood spilled into her mouth, but she moved them. Holding them up against the top of her mouth as she swallowed it down. 

There was a commotion they were unable to see. Dozens of giants were shouting and the only reason they weren’t hurt was because of Alessia. Because she’d kept them safe. They were moved around again, held beneath her tongue.

“Bitch,” the other giant hissed. “You don’t want to start a war with me. You won’t like what happens. Our families already have a tense relationship.”

“You think I care?” Alessia’s voice was intense, striking right through Sloan’s bones in a way they couldn’t explain. “Just because you’re a Sulvan doesn’t mean you get anything.”

They could feel as Alessia walked. She wasn’t holding them as tightly in her mouth. Her breaths came quickly.

“You’re gonna be mine! Whether you like it or not!” the other giant called. Sloan shivered, it didn’t sound like an empty threat. They tried to show any comfort towards the giant, reaching for her tongue. There was an immediate response, she tasted them again.

“Try it!”

That time Alessia growled. The growl was louder than any she’d hinted at before. Sloan vibrated as she walked, the growl itself renewing with each step. She did start moving them around her mouth though. Rolling them back and forth and pressing them to the roof of her mouth. She stopped, pressing them to her cheek.

“We’re heading home now,” she said.

“Y-yes Miss Kamia, the hotel you mean?” someone asked. Sloan shivered.

“No, my father left a note. We’re going back to the city tonight. He’s already gone.”

“Understood.”

“Roll up the divider. I’m tired.”

“Right.”

Sloan waited as they heard the sound of an engine. They didn’t know what would happen next. The entire time Alessia kept rolling them around in her mouth. Flipping them over and soaking their clothes as she tasted them. A few times she poked at their arm. They lifted it up and let her move it. It was strange the ease she moved them, but after all of this she wasn’t scaring them anymore.

After a while of her just playing with them she sat up. Almost too quickly the warm cave of her mouth had cold air slip in. The tongue that had protected them all night pushed them over her sharp teeth. They were dropped into her palms and left shivering as she stared at them. Her brown eyes were filled to the brim with tears. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. Her voice was so quiet, they never thought a giant could speak so softly. “I-I almost hurt you. I wasn’t thinking, I’ve scared you I… There was too much wine. I shouldn’t have…” She leaned forward pressing her forehead against them. They almost wanted to try and push her away, they were covered in food and wine and saliva. “I-I promise you’re safe here. Kamias… my family doesn’t hurt humans. Not really we-we try so hard to make others think we do but we don’t I swear. This wasn’t supposed to…”

The words died, but Alessia only seemed more upset. She pulled away curling her fingers around them. Sloan was lost for words, watching her move in panic. She grabbed the box, a box they recognized. It was the one they were tied up in at the start of the night. Put in it as a present for her… Put in it to die. She pulled them close, her heart was racing. They heard it before she held them against her. 

“Oh my god, I almost forgot,” she whispered. “Please be ok, please be ok.”

Sloan managed to squirm up to see her open the box. They saw the mess that had become the cake they were supposed to be on top of. The remnants of the candy rope that they managed to cut through. The giant woman’s hands started shaking. As soon as she looked back at them, they saw the tears rolling down her face.

“No… they got out. I-I…” A sob wracked her body. Sloan gripped her dress, it was tight and hard to hold. They wouldn’t have been safe there… “Someone else must have… I picked this place to avoid this.”

Her voice cracked, finally knocking Sloan’s mind into gear. “It was me.”

“What?”

“I-I got out… climbed out into another box. They didn’t know… I-I hid in the bread.”

“You got out? It was you?” Sloan nodded. A bit terrified of how she’d act now. They were a gift for her. Immediately they were pressed firmly against her. She was soft and warm. It was a nice change from the cold air on their soaked skin. “Good, that’s good. I… we’ll get home and you’ll get cleaned up then…”

“Th-then what?”

Alessia pulled her hands from her chest and looked down at them. Tears hadn’t stopped falling. “Then we’ll either get you home or set up in a safe place. A city where you can’t be treated like this again.”

“Really? You… you were really protecting me?” They were pressed against her again.

“I was, I swear. I… my dad was supposed to come back. I was gonna give you to him. Then… then my brother got sick I don’t even know how. He had to leave so I couldn’t and there was nowhere safe. And the wine and your taste and scent and I…” Tears fell near them, rolling down her hand into the cloth in front of them. “I messed up again. I shouldn’t. I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you or scare you. I just had to keep you safe.”

“...I believe you.”

Silence settled over them both. Sloan listened to the massive heart of the woman slow to a calm beat. The tears falling near them eventually died out. Her grip stayed firm and held them safely against her. The whole time she really was protecting them. The whole time she was safe. 

Eventually she moved again. Sloan was pulled away from her calming heart and kept in a loose fist. They almost preferred the tight hold she’d been using until now. She moved until she was lying on her side in the car. A car that was bigger than any they’d ever seen. Just like her… A bigger giant and a bigger heart. No one had ever been this upset over them before.

She put her hand down next to her face. Sloan was able to see how red her eyes had grown from her tears. Without hesitating they reached out and stroked her nose. An attempt to prove she was believed, trusted. Alessia moved forward pressing against them. The two stayed like that for hours. The whole time in silence just recovering from an awful night.

As the sun rose and entered the car they were in, Sloan gained confidence. They squirmed in her loose hold until they could walk forward. They slid down against her cheek leaning their back against her. Her hand followed and covered them almost like a blanket.

“Will that guy hurt you?” they asked. “The one you bit?”

“He’ll try… he hasn’t liked me for a long time. A bad incident as kids when it came to a human… A human I took before he killed them. Honestly you’re the only one I’ve held outside my family since then. I… I hurt them, I’d been so scared and I hurt them. I-” Alessia’s voice cracked and a tear landed right on Sloan. They didn’t complain or even move. All they did was start to stroke her cheek.

“...You didn’t hurt me. If I still had my sword I would have stabbed his tongue.”

Alessia tightened her grip and shuffled a bit. Sloan watched as her other arm moved down her massive body. It disappeared from sight, returning in only a few seconds with the mangled remains of their sword. She frowned at it, but held it near them.

“I didn’t know if it was important,” she whispered. The strain of unshed tears was painfully clear in her voice. The sword itself was ruined. She’d bitten it before even finding them. Then it spent a night in her pocket. It wasn’t important, it didn’t even do what it was supposed to. Another tear landed on them. “I’m sorry. My older brother… maybe he can fix it. My youngest brother might be able to if the other can’t. He’s made his own weapons and he’s a human so…”

Sloan smiled before grabbing the remains. It was a weird keepsake of the time a giant saved them by tasting them all night. “No… this is fine. It did its job anyway. Kept me alive if a giant was gonna eat me. Helped me make a friend too.”

The pressure on them increased. Another few tears fell.

“Thank you for not hating me.” Her voice was too quiet again.

“Thank you for saving me.”

After that the two fell back into silence, a weirdly comfortable and warm silence. A silence Sloan didn’t mind having for as long as they were with the giant who protected them.

[itzmnne-3-111]

♡ “No… no, not dearer than you” ♡

Pt. 5!

”I love you! You may as well take my heart Catherine, it’s already full of you.”

“Please go!”

“What is it? What’s wrong my dear?”

Waking up to rays of sunshine peeking through your windows trying to get up but the tug of a broad hand on your waist pulls you back down then you hear a groan then a man’s hushed voice “Jus’ stay here love I’ll feed em’ later..” came from behind you

Turning your head to see closed eyes and messy dirty blond hair behind you “Simon?” You said quietly only a subtle ‘hm?’ Came from him in response turning back around and closing your eyes with a smile “you stayed?” You asked him “Corse I would car really can’t go anywhere you know..”

He said a comfortable silence loomed over the both of you as you felt his cheek rest on your shoulder “Not like I’d wanna leave anyway..” he said more in a whispered tone. You both sat there cuddled up on the couch with your dog sleeping below before you noticed the sun “what…what time is it?” You asked him getting a bit nervous “0950 love” he said as he held up his watch and showed you the time. You shook your head “0950?” You said a bit confused “ ‘member what I taught you” you slowly nodded then thought 9:50? Wait…9:50!? You quickly got up out of his arms and ran around looking for your phone as Simon quickly got up after you did and watched you

“Shit shit shit shit!” You said as you picked up your phone from the kitchen and tried not to drop it “Fuckin’ hell what is it?” Simon said as he yawned and stretched “Work Simon! I have work!” He sighed and walked behind you as you tried to type your boss a quick reply he hugged you close “Work can wait hun” you turned your head so fast it made your neck crack a bit before you turned back around quickly to rub the back of it “No!…shit..no it can’t I literally can’t be late to work again this week!” He sighed and stared at you as you tried to fix your hair/face “And why’s that?” You paused and looked up at him with a stressed smile “Cause I will get fired if I’m late again this month!” You said through gritted teeth before you rushed upstairs.

Simon looked at the dog that’s now standing and staring at him quite obviously confused as well “Women am I right Riley?” He said before going upstairs after you just to see you taking clothes out of drawers to find your work outfit he stood there on his phone before he chuckled “love” you groaned as you couldn’t find the matching gray sock to the one you found in a drawer “kind of busy!” You said annoyed.

He walked in the door and stood beside you as you looked through your closet for the remaining sock “Love” he said a bit louder than before “can’t talk at the moment!” You half yelled starting to get agitated a soft and raspy laugh was heard before he put his callous hand on your shoulder “Love it’s Saturday” he said you stopped and got your phone from he bed and looked at the obvious ‘SATURDAY, JAN 29’ over the time. Oh is all that you said before you got a text from your boss telling you no need to apologize if no one’s at the office. You gave yourself a mental face slap before you looked at Simon standing there softly smiling at you a mumbled “sorry..” is what you said before he hugged you and kissed the top of your head.

“It’s alright love.”

hope you guys had a great day! And I’m sorry for the late post I was with my cousin all day 😭🙏🏾

but I love you guysss and I hope you enjoy the new chapter! ^^ 🩷🩷🩷

[witchesofferngrove]

Hi, I hope you're feeling better! If you're still taking prompts, maybe you can do 35 (grabbing the other's hand to pull them back to them) + 13 (frustrated kisses) for C. You're an amazing author and your characters are amazing.



Cora/Colton Calloway + grabbing the other's hand to pull them back to them + frustrated kisses!

_

"C'mon babe, let me buy you a drink," the person slurs in your ear, leaning far too close to you than your comfort levels allow. You can feel their hot breath on your neck, the stench of alcohol oozing all over your face.

You wrinkle your nose and force a polite smile. "Really, I'm fine. I'm just waiting for a friend."

The person leans in even further, almost knocking their head against yours, and you swing back just in time before collision. You desperately search the bar for C, eyes scanning every single passerby. They must be here soon, right? They text 'almost there' 10 minutes ago. Where are they?

"Clearly they don't appreciate you, babe," they slur again, trying to throw their arm around you, but you expertly manoeuvre your way out of the gesture and put out a careful hand to keep some distance between the two of you. "The name's Riley. Let me take care of you."

You check your phone for the 6th time to see if C has sent a text or anything. Nothing. You look up to face your current leach with another, forced smile. "That was them sending the text, I should really--"

But you don't get a chance to leave the encounter before their hand clamps around your bicep, pulling you back towards them. "C'mon, babe," Riley coos, setting your hair standing on edge.

That's how it's going to be then? You grit your teeth, feeling the familiar tug of magic in your gut. Let's see how you like this.

A definite spark of heat erupts in your free hand, it runs like a fever in your veins, lighting up your insides with a satisfying fire. You raise your hand.

"Let them go," a voice growls, and you twist around to find C towering behind you, something... different in their expression. Something dark. Something you haven't ever seen before.

"Get lost," Riley snarls back, though under the pressure of C's glare, they relent and release their hand from your arm. You jolt back, ripping away from their presence as soon as you're able. "You clearly weren't missing them. Now they're spending the night with me."

"What about any of that exchange before told you they want to spend even a millisecond of time with you?" The smile that stretches across C's pink lips isn't friendly, and it isn't their usual crooked grin, either. No, C smiles and it's feral. A predator staring their prey right in the eye. C takes a step toward Riley, towering over the other, and Riley drops their gaze to the floor, then back to yours, before setting their sights to the bartender.

"Would you like me to point out just exactly how repulsive you are?" C grabs Riley's bicep when they try to walk away from them and yanks them back. Panicked, Riley sends a look your way, a deer caught in the headlights--or more precisely, exactly between C's unhinged jaw--before trying to desperately jerk away from C's steel grip. "Huh, so you don't like it when someone grabs you and won't let go?" C clicks their tongue, and you can see their grip tightening around Riley's arm, their fingers digging into their skin. "Funny, since you were just doing that to my friend."

"They get it, C," you mutter, eager to not let the night end with C getting arrested over a bar fight. You grab their arm to tug them away from Riley, but they remain rigid in place. Damn all that training. "Let's just go. C, let's go."

But C ignores you, leaning closer to Riley's ear. "C'mon babe," they sneer, echoing the words Riley said to you not even 5 minutes ago, "let me take care of you."

Riley's eyes are wide in their head. It seems even the alcohol in their bloodstream doesn't stop them from seeing just how much they fucked up. "I get it, I'm sorry. Look, I'm sorry." They turn to you desperately. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again. Just--just let me go, alright?"

"C," you say, trying to pull them away from Riley again. "Let them go! They get it. Let's actually enjoy our night and leave that lowlife."

C momentarily meets your eye and sighs, nodding. The smirk drops from their lips as they shove Riley away from them, sending them reeling to the floor. "Get the fuck out of here and never come back."

Riley scurries away, promises falling out of their lips as they rush to the door of the bar, glancing back at you and C every few seconds to make sure you're not following.

You don't. Instead, C turns to the bartender and orders your drinks, knowing all your favourites off by heart. But whereas C returns to wearing their crooked grin, their posture once again relaxed, you can't help but feel... irked.

Folding your arms across your chest, you raise an eyebrow at them when they sneak a glance your way.

"What?" they ask, taking a seat at the bar. "They didn't have your favourite drink, I know. This one's just as good though."

"That is not it," you mutter back, rolling your eyes. "You just couldn't help yourself, could you?"

C pauses, their eyebrows furrowing. "I'm confused."

"What's confusing you?" you ask, feeling the bitterness on your tongue as the words leave your lips. "You just had to stroll in here, my knight in shining armour. You loved scaring that person, loved feeling like you were there for me."

"They were a creep," C says slowly. "I don't understand your problem."

"My problem," you all but shout, "is that you think you can stroll in here after 8 years and we can pick up right where we left off. That you think it's all good between us. That you can come in and protect me like I'm yours. Well I'm not!" You take a deep breath, your heart hammering like war drums against your ribs. You stare into C's pale grey eyes, something like regret shimmering in those stormy depths. But you ignore the butterflies unfolding in your stomach, swallowing hard. "You lost that privilege a long time ago. I'm doing just fine without you. I don't need you protecting me."

There's a long pause as C stares at you and you stare at them. It feels like there's a rope, a noose, tied around both your necks, getting tighter and tighter. It feels like your lives are tied to each other's, even if neither of you want it. Like if one of you chokes, the other will too.

"Well?" you ask finally, unable to stand the silence much longer.

"Well?" they echo back, raising an eyebrow in response.

You groan, throwing your hands in the air in frustration. "Well, say something!"

"What do you want me to say?" they ask, never once breaking eye contact with you. You can feel your heart in your throat, throbbing like it wants to beat out of your body.

"Something!" You exclaim back, feeling the frustration mounting again. "Anything."

"I've already explained to you why I left and why I had to cut contact," they say calmly, as if they have rehearsed this very argument in the mirror every morning. "You know everything. I've said all there is to say. This part's up to you."

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the raging blood in your veins. You can feel electricity humming underneath your skin--the rage in your body responding to the magic like a moth to a flame. They haven't changed, not a single bit. They're still the same unbelievably frustrating, irritating, argumentative little shit they were when you were best friends in high school. Except now they don't even have the decency to get angry during your arguments.

"You're unbelievable, you know that?" you say, shaking your head and releasing your arms to stab a finger into their chest.

They take a step towards you, their breathing slow and steady. This close you can smell the mint on their breath, the scent of fresh laundry of their fancy, clean clothes. You didn't even note that they put in effort for tonight, but for some reason, the idea of their freshly pressed shirt and the spritz of perfume in the air suddenly makes your mouth dry.

"Am I?" they ask, their voice surprisingly soft, as they lean in closer so you can hear them over the sound of music and chattering voices in the background. C is close enough now that you can see the specks of blue in their grey eyes, the rough edges of the scar above their top lip.

"Yes," you manage to force through your lips, though you swallow hard as you glance into their eyes again. You're angry at them, you remind yourself, folding your arms across your chest again. "You know exactly what you're doing."

C's lips twitch at the corner into the barest smirk, and they lean even closer towards you. "And what am I doing?"

You're angry, you insist, you're angry, you're angry, you're--

Staring into C's eyes again. Their lips are close enough to yours that if you just tilted your head they would touch, you would taste the mint on their breath, feel the soft press of their mouth on yours, you could tangle your fingers into their blonde curls, tug on them in a way you can't help but think they'd like.

"You're infuriating," you mutter, but there isn't any force behind the words. All you can think about is their arms wrapped around you, their hands on your skin. All you can think about is them. "And utterly unforgiveable."

C tilts their head, their lips brush against yours. "I'm sorry you feel that way," they whisper, and then their mouth is on yours, first soft, slow, but then C's tongue trails along your bottom lip, and you move your lips together. Hard, and fast. You unfold your arms and wrap them around their neck, moving your hands into their hair.

You tug a little harder than you'd like to admit, but C moans softly into your mouth, and you pull them closer. C pushes you against the bar, their hands travelling underneath your top, digging into your skin hungrily.

Because C Calloway truly is infuriating.

And they never like to lose an argument.

_

Hope you enjoyed! Thank you so much for the kind words!

- Tori

[secretobsessionstuff]

Can you write a Madix and Riley fic where Madix is really sick and Riley is just not having a good day and Madix doesn't want to tell him? Bonus points if Riley helps him anyway.

First fic of the new year!

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

Madix finished vomiting just as his phone started to ring. With a runny nose and the persistent urge to clear his throat, he only picked up because it was his favourite person in the world. If it had been anyone else, he would have let it ring while he suffered on the bathroom floor.

His favourite person in the world didn’t sound too great. Riley said Madix’s name in such a dejected and tired way that Madix tried to make his voice sound positive. It was a challenge given that he’d just thrown up his lunch. It's hard to put a positive spin on that.

“What’s wrong, love?” Madix asked with a sour taste in his mouth.

“Can you pick me up, please?”

“I thought you were staying on campus with your study group until seven.”

There was a pause on the other end. Madix took the millisecond of hesitation to move the phone away from his mouth and clear his throat.

“I cancelled on them…” another pause. “I just—I want to come home. I had a shit day, and everything went wrong, and I just want to be home.” He took a second to catch his breath, so Madix did the same. “…Will you pick me up?”

Madix squeezed his eyes shut, hoping this was some fever dream. It wasn’t of course. Riley’s exhausted voice came through the phone as clear as a weak voice could. It was funny that both sides of the conversation was much less lively than normal. Madix pictured a movie scene in which a line split the two of them down the middle. They’d both be leaning against a wall, eyes closed, head hung low, and praying for someone to make their day better.

There was never a doubt in Madix’s mind that he would show up whenever Riley needed him. “Yep, yeah, I’ll be there soon. Where are you?”

“The Thompson Library. Text me when you get here.”

…

Madix did in fact not text Riley when he got to the library.

It was selfish of him but—no, scratch that, he thought. It wasn’t selfish of him to take a second to himself. It wasn’t selfish of him to sneak into the library to use the bathroom. Riley didn’t need to know the very moment he arrived.

He delayed texting Riley so that he could splash water on his face and breathe heavily over the toilet. His stomach was unsettled and churning but not in immediate danger of sending up its contents. He braced himself against the walls of the stalls, trying to quell the dizziness in his brain.

The lights in the bathroom buzzed and seemed to dim. The darkness at the edge of his vision couldn’t decide if it wanted to spread to the middle just yet. Luckily for him, the lapping of black waves stayed at bay.

He swallowed thickly, feeling semi confident that he could keep Riley from worrying about him. His boyfriend clearly didn’t need anything more to worry about. Riley sounded close to tears on the phone and Madix didn’t want to be the one who pushed him over the edge.

He left the washroom with his head down and his hands in his pockets, fully intending on going back to the car and texting Riley.

“Madix. Hey, I’m right here.”

Madix looked up to see Riley coming towards him. His backpack was falling off his shoulder and his gait was lethargic. But his face became more relaxed as he looked at Madix. “You didn’t text me.”

“Sorry, I was—”

And Madix didn’t need to come up with a good reply because Riley’s arm were suddenly wrapped around him. His boyfriend sunk into him, burying his face in Madix’s chest.

The force of the hug sent Madix backwards, wobbling on his unsteady legs. Together they stumbled back, but caught themselves before falling.

“Whoa sorry,” Riley said, pulling away from the hug. “I didn’t mean to tackle you.” Madix swayed a little while trying to regain his balance. Riley grabbed his forearm when he noticed how unstable his boyfriend seemed on his feet. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, you just surprised me.” There was lack of…everything in Madix’s demeanor which he hoped Riley didn’t noticed. He couldn’t pull together the strength to be his usual self. It seemed they both just wanted to go home now. “Come on, tell me about your horrid day in the car.”

On the drive home, Riley explained to Madix how the universe was against him that day. In the morning he ran around one of the most maze-like buildings, trying to find his lecture that was moved last minute. In the afternoon, he got the date of his counselling session mixed up, meaning he waited outside the office forever until he realized his mistake. And then just before he called Madix, the prof that he runs tutorials for was grilling him about a complaint she received from one of his students. Overall, it was stressful day that did not go his way at all. It felt like a waste of a day.

“That sucks, Ry,” Madix said lamely. His attention was split between the road, his boyfriend, and his stomach that was beginning to act up. Luckily it was one of those times when all Riley needed was someone to vent to.

“I just want to go to sleep and forget it all happened.” Riley let out along exasperated sigh. He tried to relax, knowing that everything was better now. Madix was here and he could put his terrible day behind him. By the look on Madix’s face, he too wanted an early bedtime. Actually, it looked like he needed an early grave. His face was pale and sunken like an emaciated ghost.

“Anyway, how was your day? You look tired.”

“I am,” Madix said with a hint of relief in his voice as they arrived home.

He parked the car and immediately put his head on the steering wheel. It was the most blatant sign that something was off, but he couldn’t stop himself. His head felt so heavy on his neck. He also snaked his arms around his torso to hug his aching belly. The nausea was back now and preparing to repeat what had happened before he left the house.

“Geez, you look exhausted, Mads,” Riley said, putting his hand on the back of Madix’s neck. His skin was hot. He frowned. “Are you getting sick? You feel warm.”

The roiling sensation in Madix’s gut got worse. He held out for as long as he could, but he couldn’t ignore it anymore. The softness in Riley’s voice made him want to break down. It made him want to give his boyfriend the same hug that Riley gave him at the library. It was the type of hug that said:

Hold me

Help me

Make it all better

Madix exhaled deeply and everything he wanted to say came pouring out of his mouth. “I’m already sick—God, I feel like hell. I was throwing up just before you called. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to say anything because you were already so anxious from today.”

Riley reeled back, trying to take in this new information. When it did register in his mind, it made so much sense. The muted way that Madix spoke and acted was not like him at all. It all made sense. “Aw Madix, you should have told me.”

“I know,” his voice was thick from nausea. Before he could impulsively say sorry again, a wet burp made him put one hand over his mouth and the other hand on the door handle. They were still in the car, and Madix was very aware that he didn’t want to be here much longer. The hand over his mouth muffled his next words. “Go inside the house.”

Riley didn’t have chance to reply because Madix opened the car door and stumbled outside into the cold. He bent forward just as his stomach sent up a rush of vomit. There were tears in his eyes from the force of the retch.

Madix groaned as he waited for the next heave. He could feel that he wasn’t done. His mouth was filled with saliva and an acidic taste that made him gag.

Riley stepped out of the car seconds after Madix. He stood on the other side while he calmed his nerves. Everything came on quite fast that he didn’t have time to think. Hearing Madix heave, he made the split-second decision to help him. That’s what he would have wanted.

After feeling anxious all day, there was something mundane about the way he was feeling now. This felt normal. Madix needed comfort, so you help him. That's just what you do. There was the sudden realization that it was okay to be anxious because his favourite person in the world was sick. Anyone would be There was only one way to lessen the anxiety, and that was to make Madix feel better.

This backwards logic gave Riley the confidence to come around the car to where Madix was creating puddle of vomit on the floor. Riley didn’t look at that. He look at Madix’s quivering back and put his hand between the boy’s shoulder blades.

“Ry,” Madix said after burping up another gush of sick. His poor belly was cramping which made him wince and double over even further.

“Shh, don’t say anything,” Riley told him. “I want to be here. I promise. Focus on yourself.”

There wasn’t much left in Madix’s stomach, so he retched up bile and foamy spit. It hurt his stomach every time that he gagged and nothing came up. At the very least, he was glad that maybe Riley found it easier to help if he wasn’t throwing up large amounts of sick anymore—No, stop, he told himself. Riley specifically told him to focus on himself so that’s what he had to do. Riley was able to judge the situation for himself, and so far he deemed it safe to stay.

With this in mind, Madix wiped his mouth as his belly calmed down, and turned to face Riley. He didn’t say anything as he let his boyfriend envelop him in a hug. He buried his face in Riley’s chest and felt a little bit better.

[cjsinkythoughts]

FATWS One Shot #4 - Best Girls, Good Guys, Hand Art, Joy Rides

Word Count: 1922

Warnings: Cursing, Implied PTSD, Mention of IED, Motorcycle Ride Without Helmets

Setting/Characters: Captain America: The Winter Soldier in 2014; Reader, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Sam’s therapy group, Lady at the Front Desk, Mentions of Peggy Carter and Riley

A/N: Here’s number 4! Like I said in the previous One Shot, I’m hoping to get TWS One Shots done today and tomorrow. Um, I don’t have a lot to say this time since I unloaded pretty much everything in the last One Shot. So, I guess that’s all!

This isn’t beta’d, as usual, so please excuse any mistakes! Be kind to yourselves and others! Enjoy this part, thank you for reading, and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

(PICTURE DOESN’T REPRESENT READER, JUST WHAT THE ART STEVE DREW LOOKS LIKE!)

“How is she?”

Steve nodded, taking the helmet he insisted on keeping for you in the compartment under his seat out and handing it over. What a hypocrite. “She’s fine. I guess. She…forgot. We were in the middle of a conversation and she…forgot I was alive.”

You gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Alzheimer’s is a scary thing. I’m sorry. It must be hard seeing your best girl go through that.” He froze, his wide eyes scanning you. You ignored his gaze, giving him the helmet back. You really hoped it didn’t come out as sad and spiteful as you meant it. You didn’t want to despise her, you really didn’t. You couldn’t. You had too much respect for her. She did help build the organization you worked for. You just hated the position you found yourself in. “We’re just going to the VA. It’s not too far. I’ll be fine.”

“No, honey. I don’t want you getting hurt-”

“I won’t, Steve.” You pushed back. “I’ve done it before in a lot more dangerous places than the streets of DC. Plus, I trust you. You wouldn’t let me get hurt, would you?”

His lips turned up slightly, his head shaking just enough. “No. No, I wouldn’t. Hop on, then.” He jerked his head to his bike, putting the helmet away before sitting down with you following his lead. You pressed against him, an arm around his waist, thighs squeezing his hips lightly. “Ready?”

“Mhmm.” You hummed, setting your chin on his shoulder.

The bike roared to life underneath you before you took off. You were never worried when Steve drove. Sometimes he liked going fast when you two go for a drive through backroads of Virginia for a weekend, camping underneath the stars. But when you were in DC, he cruised, fast enough that you could get pulled over for doing ten over, but slow enough that you didn’t have to shout over the rush of the wind combing through your hair.

He usually talked to you while driving, but he was quiet this time. You turned your head to study him. His jaw ticked ever so often, his eyebrows furrowed and those pink lips turned down.

You didn’t want to distract him, but you couldn’t help but lift your free hand, tracing his jaw from his chin to his ear before pressing soft circles into the hinge of his jaw with your thumb. “Are you okay? Did I upset you?”

“No. No, you’re perfect, honey.” He reassured quickly, moving around a car, side eyeing you for just a second. “I’ve just…there’s a lot on my mind. A lot I need to figure out.”

You nodded. “If you ever need me. I’m here.”

He grinned, taking your hand in one of his to press a kiss to the knuckles, eyes not leaving the road. “I know.”

“Tell me more about this Sam Wilson guy.”

Steve chuckled before telling you about his run the day prior and how he lapped Wilson a few times and their conversation afterwards. He was just finishing up when he parked in the parking garage of the VA, “and then Natasha drove up saying she was looking for a fossil she was supposed to pick up.”

“A fossil.” You snorted. “I’m gonna have to use that.”

He gave you a playful glare as you swung your leg around and stood up. Catching your jaw between his fingers, he chuckled when he squished your cheeks together. “Call me a fossil, honey, and I’ll tell Fury the only way I’m doing missions is if you don’t.”

You gasped, shaking your head. “You ‘ouldn’!” You slurred out, trying to talk with your lips pursed.

He gave a little giggle, gently making your head move up and down in a nod. “Oh yes I would.” He pecked your nose, letting go of your cheeks. “C’mon, dame.” You blinked after him as he started towards the elevators with long strides.

“You’re an ass, you know that?”

He smirked at you over his shoulder as you jogged to catch up, holding his hand out behind him. “C’mon. You know I’d never do that to ya.”

Narrowing your eyes, you snatched his hand and huffed. “Well…yeah. But still.”

Another chuckle left his lips, pulling you closer to his side as you pressed the button for the elevator, leaving a kiss on your head. You fell into comfortable silence after that, Steve’s thumb tracing patterns on your hand while you waited for the elevator to ding.

When it finally did, Steve had a pen pulled out and, as you entered the elevator, he pulled your hand up closer to his face, lifting the writing utensil to the back of your palm.

You didn’t say anything, merely looking around the elevator after pushing the level you were going to. It was something you found that calmed Steve; drawing. So whenever he was bored or anxious, you let him draw on your hand. He used to ask, but he stopped after you told him you’d never say no.

The elevator dinged and the doors open, causing Steve to stop inking up your skin and drop your still linked hands down to your sides, shoving his pen in his pocket. You looked down at the partial flower and leaves wrapping around your wrist, smiling affectionately. He really was a good artist.

The lady at the front desk told you where to go when you asked for Sam Wilson, which Steve did rather eagerly, making you laugh. He had told you about Sam’s want to impress her when he came in. Apparently he was with a group, but she said it was okay for you to go in as long as you didn’t disrupt anything. Steve thanked her, before following her directions down the hall and around the corner.

You heard them before you saw them. A woman was talking, telling a story of how she got pulled over the previous week. Steve leaned against a column to the side of the room, out of the way, putting his hands in his pockets. You let his hand go to allow him to do so, linking your arm with his and holding his wrist with your free hand.

“I swerved…to miss a plastic bag. I thought it was an IED.”

You watched Steve’s reactions through the rest of the session. It wasn’t much longer - maybe ten minutes - before it ended. You had tried to convince him to go to one of these when he first got out of the ice, but he refused.

“I’ve already got you, honey. That’s all I need.”

And, yes, he did have you; your assignment was literally helping him with that stuff. But you still thought he’d benefit from it. Especially now since you had started going back on your own assignments. Maybe he’d start going to Wilson’s.

After the meeting, you and Steve walked up to the veteran who had just finished his farewells and started cleaning up the table at the front with brochures and things. “Look who it is. The running man. And who’s this pretty lady?”

You smiled, sticking out your hand, your name leaving your lips in an introduction. “Sam Wilson.” He shook your hand with a grin of his own. “Nice to meet you, cher.”

“You too, Sam.”

“We caught the last few minutes.” Steve stated, leaning on the wall again, keeping his arm linked with yours. “It’s pretty intense.”

You listened sadly as Sam told you two about his wingman, Riley, but you didn’t pity him. You knew what it was like to lose people and you hated the pity you received from others. You were glad to see he wasn’t beating himself up over it, even allowing himself to smile as the conversation shifted to his retirement. Steve was right; he did seem like a good guy. 

“Are you thinking about getting out?”

You glanced up at Steve as he answered “no.” You saw the hesitation in his eyes that flickered to you, before he met Sam’s again. “I don’t know.” Hearing Steve admit that he didn’t know what he wanted made your heartache. You wanted him to be happy, and the fact that he didn’t know what made him happy caused you to grip his arm tighter.

You, Sam, and Steve talked a bit longer, getting to know each other a little better. You even did the unthinkable and told him you worked for SHIELD when he asked how you two knew each other. Steve raised an amused eyebrow as your eyes widened, your hand slapping over your mouth.

“Holy shit. I can’t believe I just told you that. You can’t tell anyone.”

Sam laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t worry. My lips are sealed.”

You finally said bye when Sam mentioned needing to get back to work. Walking back towards the elevators, Steve chuckled and nudged you. “You warmed up to him quickly.”

“Ha ha.” You rolled your eyes, your face landing in your hands. “Oh my God. I’ve never told anyone that. Ever.”

“I told you. He’s a good person. Easy to talk to.”

“Yeah…speaking of,” you tilted your head up to him as you stepped into the elevator, the doors closing behind you. “Do you want to get out?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed thickly. “That’s not what I said. I just…I don’t really know…what to do.”

You pouted a little, tilting your head. “What would you’ve done in the 40’s? After the war?”

“I dunno.” He shuffled on his feet. “Be a lab rat.”

“Steven-”

“Forget it. Forget I said anything.” Your frown deepened, your arms crossing over your chest. “Please don’t.” He said softly, hands coming up to cup your cheeks, one thumb smoothing out your forehead while the other ran over your pouty lips. “Don’t be upset.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “I’m not. I, just…worry.”

He placed his lips to your forehead, hands slipping to your waist to pull you closer. “Well don’t.”

Your hands mimicked his previous position, holding his face, thumb brushing under his eyes. Your eyes caught sight of the barely started design on your hand, and your lips pursed thoughtfully. 

“What?”

“Drawing makes you happy.” He blinked at your words, confusion in those ocean eyes of his. “You said you don’t know what makes you happy. Drawing does. And you’re really good at it. You could be an artist or something. Like a tattoo artist. I’d go to you. I mean, look at this!” You showed him your hand. “It’s not even halfway done and you did it with a crappy dollar store pen”

He gave you a small smile. “I appreciate that, honey, but I don’t think I could do that day in and day out.”

“Even with new customers coming in every day, asking for different designs in different places?”

Giving a chuckle, he leaned into your palm, kissing it. “You really want me to think about this don’t you?”

You scoffed. “Duh!”

He shook his head, ducking down to press his lips to your cheek, before laying his forehead on your shoulder. “I’m okay right now.”

“Are you?”

“Mhmm.” He hummed, arms wrapping around you. “Because I have you. And you make me happy, honey.”

You hugged him back, face pressing into his neck. You were glad you made him happy. And as long as you made him happy, you’d keep this relationship the way it was. Even if that meant you’d never be his best girl. “You make me happy too, bubs.”

**************

**************

**************

All Works Taglist (Open):

@happygoreading​ @bibliophilewednesday​

[exosmutfactory]

Six Phases FINALE Pt 1

Originally posted by sefuns

Who knew it nearly took 6 months to win your heart, and 6 phases for Baekhyun to lose his mind.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1)  P(2) | Part 6 P(1)  P(2) —– P(3)  P(4) —– P(5)  P(6) ||| ♬♩♪♩ FINALE P(1)✓  P(2) (also on AFF)

networks — @supermwritersnet​ @/bbh-net

pairing — Baekhyun x Riley (OC)

word count — 28k+ (Finale part 1 - [19k] & 2 - [9k])

genre  — ceo! baekhyun, playboy! baekhyun, strangers to lovers, hurt & comfort (heaven knows they need that comfort), slow burn! kinda

[ contains: angst, fluff, smut ]

A/N: Buckle up, loves. Here comes a long one. ♡ Let’s go! (^-^)

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

⏰🌹Six Phases Tag List: 🌹⏰

@to-all-the-stories-i-love @insta1010 @sorrowinblood @bellamendoza @bbhflrt @weirdoome​

I was unable to tag one of you so I’ll DM you from @candyfizzbyun 💗💗💗

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

July is upon us before we know it, bringing forth more of the summer's blazing sunlight and smothering heat. Jenny's birthday is right around the corner, merely 3 days into the hottest month of the year. There's no wonder why she's throwing a party in a venue that has both a beautiful indoors and outdoors setting. The breezy summer-style dress code for the event is a given—and I plan to crash it with my wintry flare.

It's July 3rd, 90 degrees, and I'm strutting down the stone path leading up to the venue in a two piece velvet outfit. The wine color compliments my skin, hugging my body in all the right places. Between the bra-shaped, crop top that ties in the back and my waist-high pants with high slits to reveal my nude colored heels underneath, I feel like the baddest and sexiest woman up in this bitch.

"Riley!" Jenny beams the moment I step through the door, looking stunning in her light blue dress. It's a plain form-fitting dress, but nothing is simple about her wearing it. The light blue material goes well with the ocean hue of her eyes. The sleeveless, spaghetti-strapped fabric that wraps around her beautifully is the shortest dress I've ever seen on her—and Jongdae should feel like the luckiest man alive to see her like this all the time.

Her makeup is done perfectly, highlighting the softness of her round face and sharpening the gaze in her oval eyes. She nearly runs someone over when she comes barreling my way in her black heels with a drink in her hand.

I laugh at her excitement, accepting her hug without hesitation. "Hey, Jen."

"Hey," She smiles, pulling back a little to look at me. "You're early."

A little grin forms on my face; if only she knew. "I didn't want to risk any traffic jams," I explain, smiling more. She's practically buzzing with happiness.

"Ah," She nods, pursing her lips. "Maybe I should have chose a different time-"

"Hey," I place my hand on her shoulder, giving her a look. "Relax. Everything will be fine."

She sighs but nods, her owl-shaped, dangling-earrings sparkling prettily under the warm lights. "I hope no one else gets stuck."

"They won't," I shake my head, adding cheekily, "Especially Chanyeol, he drives like a madman."

"That big oaf," She mutters, a smile back on her face. Her blue eyes meet mine before she takes my hands between hers. "Come, I want to introduce you to someone."

"Oh?" I inquire, raising a brow as she leads me further into the venue. "This isn't one of those matchmaking situations is it?"

"No. Fuck men." She immediately rebukes, fire burning in her eyes. "I'm not dealing with anyone's bullshit. Not on my day."

"Damn straight," I mumble, amused at the disgruntled expression on her face. Jenny and Jongdae are back together—if you can call their last fight a breakup. Witnessing him show up on their doorstep with her favorite chocolate and a new plant to add to their home was a sight to see. He must have done something else for her to react this way though. I can't help but chuckle. Half a year later and he is still tiptoeing around her. That Haneul must be someone significant. My lips downturn at the thought.

"Eunjung! Eunjung!" Jenny's loud voice brings me back to the present. "Ugh, where is that woman?" She grumbles, searching the extravagant room. More partygoers are starting to stream in, filling up the building with every shade of the rainbow and then some. My eyes drift over to the fruit buffet on the long tables in the back when Jenny's eyes widen. "There she is!" She smiles, leading me over to the mini bar on the other side of the room.

I follow her line of sight, my heart dropping in the blink of an eye. It's the same woman I've been seeing around Baekhyun since May. Her once long black hair is now a short brown mohawk, the curly ends perfectly framing her oval shaped face.

"Eunjung, this is Riley." Jenny smiles, gesturing to me. "The wild child I've told you about," She jokes.

"Hello," Eunjung greets in a low voice, smiling warmly. She holds out her hand to me. "I've heard so much about you."

I can only shake her hand and smile back, glaring at Jenny out of the corner of my eye when Eunjung is distracted by the bartender bringing her a drink. "Nice to meet you."

Jenny takes a seat while I survey the room, making sure there aren't any heads of silver hair around. Jongin won't be coming tonight, he's busy preparing dance classes for the elementary students that he'll teach for the upcoming school year, so I keep my head on a swivel. As much as I consider Jenny one of my best friends, her ties with a certain someone cannot be ignored after what happened the last time we went to a party. 

"How's Miss Eunae?" Jenny's question catches my attention, pulling me back into their conversation.

"She won second place in a dance competition last month." 

"Really?!" Jenny gasps and I stiffen.

"Yeah, I couldn't make it." Eunjung smiles sadly, swirling the melting ice in her drink. "Thankfully her girlfriend could. And Baekhyun too."

"Wait," I interrupt, feeling wary when both their eyes focus on me. "You have a twin?"

"Yes. About my height, long black hair." Eunjung sets down her empty glass on the counter. "You might have seen her around before, that woman can't sit still to save her life."

"She has a girlfriend?"

Eunjung and Jenny share a brief, knowing glance before turning back to me. "Yes." Eunjung smiles.

I clear my throat, avoiding their dancing eyes. "Good for her."

"They've been together since high school." Jenny nudges me, a shit eating grin on her face.

"I'll be surprised if they marry before you and Jongdae though," Eunjung raises her hand to get the bartender's attention again. "Chaeyoung is always working overseas."

My chest vibrates. I pull my phone out of my secret breast pocket, tuning out the rest of their conversation.

*

Sat, 07/03 - 7:30pm

Heartbreaker 😑💔😄

Y'all ready?

//

Earth shaker 😝💞😊

Ready as I'll ever be!

//

Heartbreaker 😑💔😄

Kyungsoo?

//

Cake master 🤗🍰🙏🏼

You owe me for this shit

//

♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡

I promise to help you bake in his place

\\

…

\\

As long as Dae and Yeol pick up the groceries :')

\\

Cake master 🤗🍰🙏🏼

Chanyeol delivers and Jongdae unpacks

//

I don't trust his clumsy ass anywhere near my produce

//

♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

\\

Heartbreaker 😑💔😄

😂

//

Earth shaker 😝💞😊

Hey!

//

♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡

Ready guys?

\\

Cake master 🤗🍰🙏🏼

Yes

//

Heartbreaker 😑💔😄

Yeah

//

Earth shaker 😝💞😊

Mmhm >:(

//

♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡

Let's go 🤫🎂🚚💨✨🥰

\\

*

I can't help but chuckle, pocketing my phone. When I look up, Jenny is the only one sitting at the counter. "Hey," I frown, noticing the sad look on her face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," She mumbles.

"Come on," I rest my hand on her arm, trying to catch her eye. "I can't let the birthday girl mope. You can tell me."

A smile quirks at her lips. "I just…" She sighs, turning to me. "I can't believe Jongdae is busy with work today."

"Awe," mimicking her poked out bottom lip, I nudge her softly. "Well, I guess you're just stuck with me—Deal with it."

"Riley!"

I burst out into laughter, back hugging her when she playfully pushes me away. "Hey, don't lose hope, yeah? He might surprise you."

"No he won't," She mumbles, full on pouting now. "He never surprises me."

"Well," Making eye contact with a certain mischievous brunette on the other side of the room, I tap her shoulder. "Maybe that will change today."

Jenny turns her head and gasps, leaping off of her bar stool. "Chanyeol? Kyungsoo? Jongdae?!?!?!?!"

Everyone in the room watches on with smiles on their faces, but Jongdae's is the brightest of all. "Hey, babe," He beams, opening his arms.

Jenny sprints over to him, colliding so hard with his body that she almost sends them both to the floor. But Jongdae takes it all in stride, holding her close while bellowing that signature laugh of his.

Smiling at them, I quickly walk over to help Kyungsoo and Chanyeol roll in the food cart. "Hey guys, everything okay?"

"We made it all in one piece," Kyungsoo mutters, glancing at the tall dome plate cover. "The cake too."

"Three different chocolates?"

"Mmhm."

"Perfectly symmetrical?"

"Yep," Yeol chimes in.

I grin, "She's going to love it."

"She's going to love you, you mean." Chanyeol sets his shining eyes on me. "How did you even know all this?"

I give him a small, secretive smile, "I have my resources." His grin only widens. "Did the gifts come in today?"

Kyungsoo nods, "Right on time."

"The delivery man showed up just as we were packing the cake into the back of the truck," Chanyeol chuckles, nearly tripping over the edge of a carpet. Kyungsoo and I look at him with our respective wide and narrowed eyes.

"Huh," I purse my lips, nodding in approval. "Now that is some high class two-day shipping." They both hum in agreement, Kyungsoo straightening out the table cloth before they begin to set the cake onto the round table.

"You guys good?" I look between them when they succeed in placing it down. Thank god for that; if that cake falls to the floor that's all our necks.

Kyungsoo nods, "Go on." He gives me a look that's hard to identify. "He's coming too."

"Oh," My heart leaps at the thought. Oh. Shit. He's coming. I should have expected as much, but to actually hear it makes it ten times more real... Shit. "I-Imma just…" I point behind me to the backdoor, slowly walking backward. "You know."

They nod, Chanyeol's eyes holding a hint of sadness. "It's okay. We got everything covered."

"Thank you," I breathe, smiling apologetically. Spinning on my heel, I hurry as fast as my high heels allow to the door. With one last glance back to make sure Jenny is okay, I slip out into the summer night.

Music from within the venue spreads out into the backyard, but it's much quieter out here. I survey the area, making sure no one else is around. Not that I am against anyone being outside, I've just had enough social interaction for one evening… and the night has barely begun.

Sighing to myself, I walk further out onto the patio, my lips quirking up at the light blue cushions on the chairs. Jenny planned this event to the Tee, huh? I chuckle, sighing softly.

The deck is a nice light gray shade, contrasting against the black base of the table and lounge chairs. Running my eyes over them, I hum, choosing to lean against the table instead.

Pain buds in my chest when my thoughts wander. I shouldn't care—I really shouldn't but… Even after everything. Even after all this time, it hurts to think of him with anyone else. The thought of him holding someone in his arms, in his home, in his heart… It crushes me to the core. It eats me up on the inside. It keeps me up at night.

I shouldn't care, yet every time I hear his name, every time I see his face... I go back to that January night, and I regret it every single time.

No matter how hard I try, my head is constantly full of 'what ifs.' What if I stayed? What if he was willing to change? What would we be right now if I hadn't walked away? 

I love—I loved Baekhyun with all my heart…

Can I really move on from this? Will I ever wake up one day and not imagine his sleeping face next to mine?

He could still have someone already for all I know, but for tonight… I rather tell myself that he is alone.

Leaning my elbows on the patio table, I watch the sunset, admiring the pink and orange hues streaking across the blue sky.

"You're staring."

"I love admiring art."

"So I'm an object now?"

The unmistakable love in his sparkly brown eyes… "You are the source," He pauses, holding my heart in his warm smile, "Of my love and affection."

My heart squeezes in earnest. God… why does this hurt so much? Why do his words linger in my mind and actions take hold of my heart? When will it end? When will it fucking end—

"Miss?" A low, raspy voice startles me.

I spin around, staring at the culprit with narrowed eyes. They widen as I take in the man in front of me.

The first thing I notice is his sharp jawline, leading up to his thin lips that curl up at the ends, reminding me a little of Jongdae. My eyes trail up further, taking in his tall nose with a rounded tip, his prominent cheekbones and narrow eyebrows. His slicked back, brown hair shows his broad forehead, and then—

His eyes…

They are the darkest shade of brown that I've ever seen, their almond shape perfectly suiting the rest of his face. They appear black in the dim light of the setting sun. Looking into them has me feeling many things, wondering what story those dark pools of molten hot coffee hold. 

"Are you alright?" He asks, his low voice in a husky tone that I'm slowly getting used to hearing… until I feel the drop that lands on my cheek.

"Oh—yeah!" I inwardly curse, hastily rubbing the tear from my cheek. "I-It's just, you know... allergies."

He nods and I cringe on the inside because I know he can tell that I'm completely bullshitting him right now. "What are you doing out here?" He inquires, tilting his head. His tone of voice isn't judging or hostile, it's more… caring. And sweet. I wish I could read his eyes though...

"Needed a breather," I shrug, repositioning myself in a more attractive manner. I am not about to let some stranger see me hanging out back here like a socially awkward potato on top of everything else—I refuse. "You?"

"Business call," He murmurs distractedly, repocketing his vibrating phone.

"Oh," I inwardly roll my eyes. Right. As if I don't have enough business men in my life.

"The Tech team found a corrupted file," He sighs, checking his expensive gold watch. "They don't know how bad it is yet… The film might have to be delayed."

Film? I perk up at that. "You help film movies?"

He smiles, glancing up at me, a lock of hair falling over his eye. "I'm the director."

A very casual one at that; I note, taking in his outfit. He's decked out in a light blue denim jacket and a white t-shirt, but I know those aren't cheap. Nope, I've seen enough of Baekhyun's cotton shirts to—

"What's the theme?" I blurt out, curling my hand into a fist as I lean further back on the table. "Classified information?" I raise a brow, smirking at his speechless face.

"Aish…" He closes his mouth, smiling a little. "Something like that."

"Eh," I shrug, smiling softly. "I can respect that."

The temperature suddenly starts to drop. A chilly wind blows, ruffling the ends of his hair. The scent of something I haven't encountered before reaches my nose. Bourbon and vanilla; citrus and peach... It's hard to describe, but it creates an aroma that catches my attention.

"What's your name?" I tilt my head, my eyes widening at the sparkle that reflects in his dark eyes from the last rays of the setting sun.

His eyes widen before he points to himself. "Me?"

"Who else, silly?" I laugh, holding back a snort, a smile tugging at my lips at the sheepish look on his face. He's pretty cute, I'll give him that.

He clears his throat, looking away. "Jackson."

I fight back my smile seeing how flustered he is. "I'm Riley." A thought occurs to me for a moment… What is a business man—director doing here? This is an invitation-only event, and I helped Jenny painstakingly arrange the guest list... "How do you know Jenny?"

"Hmm?" Jackson blinks, flickering his eyes back to mine. "Oh!" He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. "She's an old friend."

"Oh," My eyes narrow in the last rays of sunlight.

"We kept in contact after her and Yugyeom split," He explains, and the apologetic expression on his face has my eyes widening again. Did he just see through me? Uh—Wait.

"Oh my god, Yugyeom?—Kim Yugyeom?"

"Yes…" He trails off, looking me over carefully. "Do you know him?"

Do I know him? My reddening cheeks are enough of an explanation. "Not really," I laugh awkwardly, standing up fully. Alright, I've had enough human interaction for today. Between him, the discovery of Eunjung's twin not seeing Baekhyun, meeting someone who is friends with that tall guy I was drooling over months ago, and having to keep Jenny's birthday surprise a secret all week, I'm drained. Time to go—

A crack of thunder echoes across the sky, and then the bottom drops, rain drenching us in seconds.

Well shit… Did none of us check the weather for today? I rack my brain for answers, trying to remember—oh... Oh. Jenny… likes… thunderstorms…

The rain continues to pour, soaking my velvet outfit and flattening my hair without remorse. It won't melt me, but the venue is a city away from Seoul and if I don't hurry home now...

"Well!" I turn away to hide the bitter smile on my face, pushing off of the slippery table. "Time for me to go. Nice meeting you, Jackson."

"Wait-"

I puff up my cheeks, blowing the air out as my hair sticks messily to my forehead. Fighting the urge to brush it back is difficult, but if there's one thing I know about my hair when it's wet, it's the agony that comes with ruffling it up. I rather not cry while detangling it when it's air dried later—

A yank on my arm makes me yelp, my head slamming into something hard when thunder cracks across the sky again, followed by the horrifying crackle of lightning. My head snaps up, eyes squinting against the onslaught of rain. I can barely make out Jackson's face, his features twisted in concern with his hair mattered to his forehead like a mop. The sheer amount of fear in his wide eyes has me more than confused. I take a look around, my heart stopping right in its tracks.

The doorknob of the back door sizzles, steam floating from it in a cloud of smoke. The crack from a lightning bolt visible as the rain washes the spark away.

My face pales when I look back up at the man in front of me.

Jackson steps back, steading me with his hands on my arms when my knees buckle. "Sorry," He clears his throat. "I tried to warn you but-"

"Thank you," I mumble, moving away when I find my balance again. "That could have been…" My head spins at the thought, "Bad."

He nods with a concerned frown, worry written all over his handsome features.

"...Well!" I clear my throat, giving him a small smile. "Thanks again for saving me, stranger." I joke, my eyes shooting down when I feel something rough shielding my shoulders from the rain. "Oh-" They snap back up to meet his, "You don't have to-"

"Keep it." He shakes his head, placing his denim jacket fully on my shoulders. "You're shivering."

"I…" My face is so hot the rain does nothing to cool me down. "Thank you."

Jackson smiles, shoving his hands into his pockets. "No problem." He starts walking backwards, glancing up at the sky before propping open the back door with his leather boot.

"Wait!" I blurt, blushing all the way up to my ears when he looks back at me, having to raise my voice over the unmerciful wind. "H-How will I return it without your number?"

A shy yet boyish grin forms on his face. "Not here."

"Huh?" I blink.

Jackson smiles even more, holding the door open before giving a little bow and outstretching his hand to me. "Ladies first."

A dozen thoughts race through my head while looking at his waiting hand, the action so familiar my heart tugs painfully in my chest. Smiling my prettiest smile, I place my palm in his.

•••

I forgot how refreshing it is to talk to someone new. Stepping out of my comfort zone to get to know a person outside of my friend group—an attractive person at that.

Texting Jackson is a treat. He's a man of high intellect, giving me great advice with years of director experience under his belt. The most shocking thing is that he is only 24—24! Two years older than me. He breaks my dating rule of pursuing anyone less than 4 years older than me, but his maturity makes up for it. Age doesn't define maturity as I have come to realize after a certain someone.

He's super sweet too. We haven't been able to see each other in person since Jenny's party last month, but a day hasn't gone by where we haven't texted. And boy does he text—the most flustering things that is. Jackson has a way with words that makes my heart squeeze in giddiness and me hide behind my hand while peeking at my screen.

He laughs at all of my jokes; he sends good morning and goodnight texts without fail. If nothing else, he is a great conversationalist who would make an even better companion, and I can't wait to see him again. I have a denim jacket hanging up in my closet to return, after all.

A knock on my office door brings me back to the present. I blink a few times, carefully reading over the email I've been working on for the past 20 minutes. "Come in," I permit, glancing at the time. The sight that greets me on the other side of the door when it opens stops my typing in its tracks.

Ms. Kim Eun, the newly appointed book editor, steps into the room, setting off my internal warning signals. Her outfit matches the company dress code, that isn't the problem here. No, it's the sheer amount of dread, sorrow, and fear coming off of her shuffling body in waves. "You asked to see me, Ma'am?" She inquires in the most broken of tones. A fragility I know very well.

"Yes." Saving my progress on the computer, I beckon her over with a reassuring smile. "Please, have a seat."

She slowly walks further into the room, sitting down in one of the leather chairs.

"Ms. Kim," I start as tentatively and professionally as possible, lacing my fingers together on top of my desk. "It has come to my attention that you have been behind on editing the book."

"Oh..." She mumbles, fidgeting with the purse in her lap. "I-I'm sorry, I-"

"I understand you might have other obligations and factors outside of work," I continue, reading her steadily panicking face like a book, "But we don't have a lot of time to get this novel done. We're on a tight schedule here."

"C-Can…" Her eyes lift from the purse in her hands, still holding onto it for dear life. "Can you do it for me?" She whispers.

I let out a short laugh. "No." Her eyes shake as my face hardens. "You were appointed as editor 3 weeks ago, correct?"

She nods, fear glimmering in her wide eyes.

"Your job is to edit the book," I remind her, my lips pressed into a thin line. "That's what you get paid for, that's your responsibility."

"But-"

"If I could do it myself, I wouldn't need to hire you." Her bottom lip starts to tremble; she's about to break. "If you can't do the job, I'm going to need you to put in your 2 weeks," I slide the slip of paper across the desk, "In early. Unless you can get half of the book done by Friday."

"T-That's only 3 days," She gasps, her voice wavering. "I can't-"

"You've had nearly a month in advance to work on it as an Intern." My voice lowers, "I'm sure you have plenty of time to catch up in-"

"I can't!" She wails loudly, hiding her face in her hands. "I-I'm not qualified for this position. I'm just a high school graduate with inside connections." She sobs, the dam of her built up emotions spilling over. "I didn't even finish English 12 with an A."

My clenched jaw ticks. I know she isn't faking it; she's been off for the past two weeks. It's her lack of sharing this important information that is getting to me. If she isn't qualified to take over the editing position, why the hell is she—my eyes widen and then narrow. Mrs. Park.

Looking at Eun, I finally understand. Her bowed head, slouched shoulders, and quiet hiccups dawning on me as clear as day.

"My boyfriend c-cheated on me with my best friend." She croaks sorrowfully. "He said that I deserved it, t-that I made him do it from working late all the time." She runs a hand through her hair, laughing brokenly, her tears leaving a trail of inky black mascara in their wake. "My editing isn't good anyway."

Reaching across the desk, I offer her my box of tissues. "I know how you feel," I mutter, keeping my voice even. "You feel lost, broken and tossed aside as if a part of you is gone." She nods, sniffling while smearing the makeup under her eye. "You ask yourself how you will ever move on from it." Leaving the box on the edge of the desk, I meet her eyes again. "But you will move on." The conversation I had with Jongin in the studio that day comes to mind, quirking a small smile on my lips. "You will wake up one day and not think of them. As long as you want to. You shouldn't stay stuck on someone who has hurt you." 

Tucking the resignation document into a drawer, I turn my sleeping computer back on. "You are worth more than how they've treated you, but you have to decide that for yourself."

"O-Okay," Eun sniffles, wiping her face. A couple tissues fall out of her hand, but her tears have stopped.

"Good." I lean back into my rollable leather chair with a stretch, smiling softly. "Let's settle this. Make me a list of your strengths and weaknesses."

Her wide eyes snap back up to mine. "I-"

"Now."

"Damn, Kyungsoo, how many of these cakes do you need in a day?" I sigh, my hands cramping up. We've been at it for hours, baking desserts at his restaurant because today is a national holiday. Funny how he let all his workers take the day off and here I am handling enough flour to make me sneeze in Jongdae's place.

Kyungsoo doesn't even look up at me, continuing to knead the dough in his hands. "I'd give an estimate but I don't want to overwhelm you."

I'd dramatically flop down into a chair if I wasn't molding a ball of my own dough, so I just groan instead. "You're killing me over here."

"Who offered to help me bake in Jongdae's place?" He raises a brow, shaping the churro in his hands with precession.

"It was all for the good of Jenny's last minute birthday cake!" I whine, starting to place a hand over my heart until I remember the torment I went through last time I got cake batter on this floral shirt. "Have you no heart?" I pout, giving him puppy eyes.

Kyungsoo slowly raises his head and I quickly get back to shaping the fancy doughnut in my hands without a word.

"So," I clear my throat, smiling sheepishly. "Did Dae and Yeol deliver everything okay?"

"They were late." Kyungsoo neatly arranges his perfectly shaped churros onto a tray, sliding them into the preheated oven. "Any later and the milk would have gone bad."

"Yikes," I wince, reaching to rub the back of my head only to pause mid-way, stopped by the wet flour sticking to my hand. "I should have helped more."

"Chanyeol would have slowed down to not give you motion sickness and then the cheese would have gone bad too." He points out.

"You sound a bit grumpy today," I note softly, glancing over at him again. "Did Chanyeol do something?" Kyungsoo starts another row of churros, staring blankly at me as he almost crushes the long sticks in his hands. "Okay, okay! I'll drop it, no need for the third degree. Spare the churro's life, please..."

"I'm going to ban him from my restaurant, I swear." He grumbles under his breath.

"At least he offered to help," I mumble, setting the last doughnut onto the non-stick pan. "How many more you got for me?" I ask, dusting off my hands.

Kyungsoo comes over to take the tray off of the counter. "None."

I raise a brow. "That's it?"

"No," He slides it in with the baking churros. "I'm sending you home."

I frown, "Why?"

"You're loud, chatty and keep dripping flour all over my floor." He deadpans. "And you're falling asleep."

Gawking at him for a few moments all I can do is huff. "I am not-"

"You're gonna get cake batter in your hair."

I flinch, putting my hand down at once. "Are you really kicking me out right now?" I mumble, blowing annoying strands of hair out of my eyes. 

"You're fired." He wipes his clean hands with a towel and walks back over to turn on the sink for me. "Now go home and sleep."

"I don't even work here!"

He gives me a look.

"Alright, alright," I mutter, scrubbing flour from under my nails. "Fine. I'll be out of your hair-"

The chime on the door of the restaurant rings, capturing my attention. I crane my neck around to see who the hell is coming in here when there's obviously a "CLOSED" sign out front and it's freaking 9pm. My face pales at the black baseball cap and leather jacket figure stumbling through the door. I tug on the sleeve of the busy man next to me. Um, Kyungsoo-

They pull their hat off before they reach the middle of the restaurant, revealing a familiar flushed face and unmistakable silver hair.

Oh fuck no.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Kyungsoo," He mumbles, his head down while approaching the counter. "I got held up at the office and the traffic was-" His head snaps up just as I contemplate ducking out of view. "R-Riley…?" He whispers, his face paling. He looks like he's seen a ghost and I can't imagine I'm doing any better.

"You're late." Kyungsoo deadpans, busying himself with washing the used baking trays and utensils in the sink.

"I…" Baekhyun steps closer and I feel like I'm going to throw up. My heart isn't in my throat at this point, it's somewhere lost between my nose and my gag reflex.

"Have you been drinking?" Kyungsoo finally looks up from the spatula in his hands, his eyes narrowing at the lack of response.

Baekhyun's red face glows brighter under the harsh kitchen lights. He purses his lips, "No-"

"Where's your car?" Kyungsoo demands. "I'm not letting you drive."

"Kyungsoo, I'm fine," He rolls back on the heels of his feet, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "You have an important client coming in tomorrow-"

"I don't care who the hell is coming tomorrow." Kyungsoo cuts him off, full-on glaring at him now. His normally calm voice growing deeper with anger by the second. "I'm not letting you drive-"

"I'll take him home," I mumble, shrinking in on myself when both their eyes snap over to me.

Kyungsoo frowns, "Riley-"

"I'm taking him home, Kyungsoo." I cross my arms, shaking my head at the disapproving expression on his stern face. "You have a huge event tomorrow, you sent your staff home, and your kitchen is covered in cake batter," I list off of my fingers, daring him to say another word. "His apartment is on the whole other side of town. I think we both know what's the best course of action here."

Kyungsoo stands there silently for a long moment, but I don't back down, merely arching a brow. "Are you sure you'll be alright?" He softens, not even acknowledging the other man in the room.

"Yeah." I smile, uncrossing my arms. "I know I'm a disaster with a knife but I know how to drive, Kyungsoo. You got to give me some credit here."

"Alright," He chuckles, smiling a little before shifting his eyes back to the man on the other side of the counter. "Don't cause her any trouble, you hear me?"

Baekhyun's dazed eyes widen, "I-"

"If you mess with a single hair on her head," Kyungsoo continues, lifting the butcher knife in his hands. "Say goodbye to your kids."

"I-I won't fucking!" Baekhyun tangles a hand in his messy hair, sucking in a deep breath. "I'm walking home."

"Oh no you aren't," I rebuke, rounding the counter.

He grits his teeth, spinning around on his heel, "I'm-"

"Yah, Baekhyun." Kyungsoo's deep voice cuts through the air.

Baekhyun freezes up, looking over his shoulder with wide eyes. "Y-Yes?-"

"Take this." Kyungsoo starts, slamming a couple bags full of food to his chest. "Shut the fuck up and let Riley take you home."

"I-" Baekhyun shakes his head, "I can still catch the bus. There's no need-" His face drains of color when he meets Kyungsoo's eyes again. If looks could kill, he'd be 6 feet under.

Kyungsoo turns back to me then, "If he gives you a hard time, call me, okay?"

"Yes, Kyungsoo," I immediately agree, fearful of his sour mood as well. Note to self: angry Kyungsoo is scarier than angry Jongin.

"Good," He grumbles but smiles, patting my arm before walking back to the kitchen. "I'll save some of the churros for you."

"Thank you!" I beam at him, waving until he walks into the backroom. My smile doesn't fade, my cheeks starting to hurt until I feel a certain someone's stare on the back of my head. Oh shit.

Slowly turning around, I drag my eyes up to look into the most beautiful puppy eyes in the world, my heart going into overdrive.

"Hey," Baekhyun whispers.

A sad smile quirks on my lips, "Hi." Sighing a little, I take a look around, hanging up my apron and retrieving my hidden purse from the back of a chair at one of the extravagant dining tables. "Let's go."

Baekhyun nods, following me out of the restaurant. I open the door and hold it for him until he reaches the doorstep. We may not be on good terms, but that doesn't mean I'll just let a door slam in his face.

…

I most definitely should have let that door slam in his face.

Shaking off my aggressive thoughts, I take a deep breath and power walk to my car, shivering in the cold wind. It's the middle of July and a tropical storm has blown in, bringing its cold rains and chilling nights with it. Trust Seoul to have these extreme temperature changes, I should have kept my ass back in the South.

Baekhyun doesn't say a word as we make it to my red Porsche. I unlock the car when we are a few feet away, rolling my keys around my fingers. "Hop in, Byun."

He climbs into the passenger seat and by now the silence is killing me, but I shove it down. I'm here to drive him home and that's it. No more, no less.

Sighing inwardly, I settle into the driver's seat. "Buckle up," I mutter, looking at him out of the corner of my eye. "You may be more likely to survive a car crash in your drunken stupor but I sure as hell am not getting a fine for your ass."

I swear I hear him mutter, "of course," under his breath.

"What was that?" I pointedly widen my eyes, looking directly at him.

"Nothing." He grumbles, keeping his eyes facing forward.

"I thought so," Making sure he's strapped securely and checking my rearview mirror, I stick the key into the ignition and pull out of the parking lot.

Driving to Baekhyun's apartment feels so surreal, for many reasons. Never in our relation—our previous relationship have I driven him anywhere. I never dared to get behind the wheel of his Audi, that car is too expensive. If I had wrecked it and looked at the cost to fix or replace it, combined with the look of pure rage that would be on his face from me crashing his baby, I would die. Bad blood or not, I rather not be on Baekhyun's bad side.

My heartbeat picks up the longer the car ride goes on. Fuck, it's getting harder to breathe. I literally have the biggest problem to ever walk into my life right next to me months after I swore to never speak to him again. Why did I agree to this? What was I thinking? 

No. No time for that, I'm going to drop him off at his apartment and continue moving on with my life. That's why I left him in the first place.

"...Riley?" He speaks up a few streets away from his house, his voice the softest I've heard in a while.

Nope. Don't engage. I tighten my grip on the steering wheel.

"Can… Can we talk?" He continues, sounding sadder by the minute. "Please?"

"We're ten minutes away, Baekhyun."

"I…" The bags rustle in his lap as he sighs. "I knew this would happen."

"What?" I glance sharply at him at the next red light.

Baekhyun looks down at his hands with the most pitiful expression on his face, tears building in the corners of his eyes under the bright city lights. "I knew you would hate me."

Oh my fucking—My heart squeezes painfully in my chest. I want to roll my eyes and launch myself out of the car window at the same time. "Stop bringing it up, Byun." I mutter, focusing back on the road. "It's a thing of the past. Let it die there."

"Yeah," He laughs, his voice raw with emotion. "Like my heart the night you left me."

I clench my jaw, taking a deep breath, inwardly cursing the hectic late night traffic. Come on, fuckers, I need this man out of my car asap.

"You don't even want to talk to me about it." He continues, growing more frustrated and louder by the minute. "You don't even want to see me-"

"Of course I don't, Baekhyun!" I snap, whipping my head around to face him. "After all the shit you've done I have every right to not speak to your smug fucking face again."

"Smug?" He laughs weakly. "You think I enjoyed what happened to us?"

"Yep," I chirp, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn pale. "There's no other explanation for why you are in my car right now."

"You insisted for me to be here." He fires right back. "You break up with me, hang out with all my friends, then act like a cold hearted bitch every time you see me."

"It takes one to know one, Baekhyun." I jab right back, curling my upper lip in a cruel smile.

"Yeah," He scoffs, crossing his arms and facing the window. "I'm sure you know that very well."

"If you're going to be a whiny little bitch," I start, smiling widely at him, "I will put you out on your ass, Baekhyun."

"Wouldn't you love that," He laughs, anger coming off of him in waves. "You were always obsessed with my ass."

That's it.

Baekhyun yelps when I slam on the breaks, bracing his hands on the dashboard. "Riley, what the hell?!"

"You wanted to talk?" I make sure the curb of the street I pulled onto is clear before facing him with a grin. "Huh? You want to talk now?" Baekhyun shrinks further into the passenger seat when I lean over him. "Fucking say it to my face then, you bastard." I snarl. "Go on. Give your little practiced speech."

Baekhyun parts his lips a few times, making my rage raise even more—"I miss you." He mumbles sadly.

I blink, staring at him. "...What?" I chuckle, growing wary as he keeps giving me those kicked puppy dog eyes. "What the fuck are you on about, Baekhyun-"

"I miss you." He repeats. "I miss your voice, I miss your eyes, I miss waking up to your sleeping face next to mine." He takes a shaky breath, tears filling his eyes. "I miss your strawberry scent on our pillows. I miss your loving words. I miss you complaining about my random ramblings and shutting me up with a kiss… I miss everything about you." He drags his eyes back up to mine then. "I miss you so much I wake up every day and fall apart when I remember that you aren't there."

Sucking in a breath, I look away from him, my anger long forgotten. I… I don't know what to say. "You…" A lump forms in my throat. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to restrain my wobbling chin.

Baekhyun keeps his eyes on me, pleading with me with their sad, brown depths. He doesn't expect the slap I land on his pretty face.

"You fucking bastard," I mutter lowly, shaking in anger, the last of my sanity flying out of the window. "You don't get to come in here and say all this fucking bullshit when you couldn't even tell your fucking mother that you were dating me!" I scream, my vocal chords pulling harder than my heart strings. "You were dating me, living with me, loving me, fucking me-" I laugh, throwing my hand out to show off the car. "For a whole year. Then you come here with your pretty, pitiful little empty words and expect me to forgive you? Really? You really think so little of me?"

"Ri-"

"Did you not get it the first time?" I ask in the sweetest of tones, my Southern accent out on full display. "Huh? You told your dear mother about us then suddenly come running back after me? Did having her approval feel that good little puppy?"

Baekhyun's face burns a dozen different shades of red, but I'm not fucking done yet.

"Here comes the man who was so overcome with jealousy over my best friend that he pretended to fuck another whore at his party," I list off on my fingers, my voice growing louder with every word I fire at him."Here goes the man who accused me of fucking Jongin because I wanted to be left alone at a mother fucking party. Here sits the man—who had the audacity to cheat on me not once, but twice!" My lips curl up into the ugliest sneer, glaring at Baekhyun hard enough to kill. "And here lies the cowardly man who will lie like a pig in mud for the rest of eternity as far as I am concerned."

I'm huffing and puffing by the time I'm done, not even waiting for him to say anything before starting back up again. "You know I never and would never have cheated on you, right?" I ask, lowering the volume of my voice. "If I didn't want to be faithful to you, Baekhyun, I would have been with someone else. I don't pull stunts to be petty and shit. If you didn't know that about me now, you're a fucking idiot, and if you don't believe me, then I don't know what to tell you." I shrug, leaning back tiredly into my seat and keeping my eyes forward on the empty road ahead.

"I get that," He says quietly.

A chuckle bubbles in my aching chest. "Do you?" I raise a brow, trying to calm down. "Do you understand how stupid it is to cheat on someone just because you're feeling petty or uncomfortable in a situation-"

"I never cheated on you."

"Ha!" I bark out a laugh. "And I don't have 4C hair." Rolling my eyes, I throw my hands up. "What? So that model at the photoshoot and the lipstick stain on the collar of your shirt wasn't you cheating? Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Really? You really are going to deny-"

"Melody tripped over a sewage drain and that model forced herself onto me." He states firmly. "Neither was consensual or intentional."

Both my brows raise. "Huh. You know, it's real funny how you have an explanation for that now." I roll down my window to cool off, leaning my elbow onto the window seal and my chin in my palm before turning to him again. "Where was this energy months ago?" 

Baekhyun nods. "You're right. I am a coward," He admits, stopping me dead in my tracks. "Dumb enough to not say anything and dumb enough to think that you'd figure it out because I…" He trails off, biting his lips before those teary brown eyes lock onto mine again. Taking my breath away with the endless storm of emotions swirling within them. "With you, I'm like an open book. You always saw right through me, so I thought… I thought I didn't have to say anything," His head drops, looking down at the neat bags sitting at his feet. "And when I did, it was too late."

My eyes narrow. "How do I know you aren't bullshtting me?"

"I have nothing left to lose," He shrugs, smiling sadly.

Anger flares up in me again. "What is that supposed to mean-"

"I already lost you."

My mouth snaps shut, a feeling I haven't felt in months squeezing my heart in earnest.

"Everything you said was true," He mumbles. "All of it. The secrets, the lies-"

"And what makes you say that?"

His ears burn brighter than the red handprint on his cheek. "I'm seeing a therapist."

"Oh—Shit..." A wave of white hot shame falls over me. "Baekhyun, I-I'm sorry-"

"No." He shakes his head before bending down, the paper bags rustling in his grasp. "Don't. You said nothing but the truth."

"That still doesn't make it okay…" I rub the back of my neck, cursing myself inwardly for my anger. I hadn't meant to go off on him, that wasn't my intention—

"It's only fair," He mutters, shrugging weakly. "I've said worse to you."

"I…" I can't help but sigh, at a loss for words. "...I'm proud of you, seeing a therapist takes a lot of courage and self awareness."

"Thank you."

"I'm glad you're doing okay," I mumble.

Baekhyun stiffens up. Suddenly the atmosphere in the car shifts into something more melancholic.

"B-Baek?"

He lifts up his head, revealing his tear-stained face to me. "You think so?"

My heart clenches in anguish. "Baekhyun-"

"After everything you…" His voice breaks. "You think I'm fine? You think I'm okay?" Tears dampen the long strands of silver hair dangling in his eyes. "I haven't slept. I haven't eaten. I haven't breathed—I haven't lived since the day you left." He croaks, sucking in a breath. "So if you think that I am okay, I am not."

I have nothing else to say after that. What can I even say...?

Feeling tears form in my own eyes, I turn the car back on. My mom always taught me that if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say nothing at all. And after I slapped him and said all of those things…

I pull off of the curb, hiding my tears away from him. There's nothing I can do but take him home and hope that in the distant future… In a brand new life… He can forgive me for everything I've done to him and move on too.

The rest of the ride is spent in silence. No radio. No cars zooming past. The only thing I hear is his quiet sniffles and the cry of my wheezing heart.

"Thanks for taking me home," He mumbles in the softest of tones, mumbling more to his scuffed up sneakers than to me.

"No problem," I say softly, reaching out to place my hand on his shoulder only to pause, gripping the steering wheel again. "Make sure to take some Advil from the third cabinet on the right, okay?"

Baekhyun nods, hiding under the strands of his messy hair. He scares the hell out of me when his head suddenly shoots up again.

"Baek…?" I whisper, not sure what to do as he starts leaning in. He reveals his face to me up close for the first time in months. Heart-wrenching features that I know so well. The droopy shape of his brown eyes, the soft slope of his button nose, the cute little mole on top of his soft pink, thin lips that are pursed in concentration. For what? I have no idea. "Baekhyun-"

He slams his hand down on the dashboard, making me flinch. "Spider," He mutters, opening his hand to reveal its creepy squished body. I shiver at the sight. "I don't want you getting into a wreck. I know how you hate-" He sighs loudly, shaking his head. "Never mind…"

Yeah… I gulp, forcing a smile. Never mind.

"Travel safely, okay?" He takes his bags of food and steps out of the car, moving to close the door only to pause, meeting my eyes from under the bright city lights. "Goodnight, Riley."

It takes everything in me not to break down right there and then. "Good-" My lips wobble. I clear my throat, brushing my hair back before daring to look into his dull brown eyes again. "Goodnight, Baekhyun."

He smiles so small and sadly, making my heart weep when he closes the door and walks off to enter his apartment building.

I sit there for a few moments, staring out at the busy street ahead. It's so funny… This empty feeling in my chest. It's… It's like I never left…

•••

It's unfair… how much your heart hurts when you're stuck on someone. Realizing that no matter how many times they've hurt you, your broken heart still beats for them… and only them.

No matter how hard I try to deny it, the heart doesn't lie…

Baekhyun… is still a part of me. His scent may have faded, his t-shirts and hoodies are cleared out from my room… but the memory of him lives on in my heart. And I can't get rid of him without breaking myself completely and reforming a "perfect mold" to fit myself in.

Ha… funny how that works. 7 months of moving on has led up to this. Nothing. 7 months, 12 months, or 30 years, Baekhyun's scent can wash off of my skin, but the rest of the world won't let me break the two of us apart. If I am my brain, he is my heart. And you can't live without that muscle pumping steadily in your aching chest.

It's so unfair… because I'm trying my hardest to move on with someone else.

It takes me forever to get ready for my date tonight, and when I do… Something tells me to cancel it. But I can't. Jackson will be busy for the next month and a half. This is the only time in his schedule where he can take me out on the "proper date" as he likes to call it. Which he doesn't have to, I'm not that hard to please. I mean for fuck sake, I haven't had an official date until I was 20. 

I'm not picky about these things, but I ended up agreeing in the end anyway. The sad puppy look on Jackson's face when I tried to decline going to a restaurant to just stay in and watch movies instead still haunts me. Those almond shaped, dark brown puppy eyes… Damn him.

Sighing softly, I carefully apply my eyeliner in my vanity mirror, checking over my appearance one last time and smiling at the result. My lips are the richest shade of red, dark brown, waist-length hair curled to perfection, and the crystal earrings I haven't worn in ages sparkle every time they catch the light. Perfect for my chosen dress for the night.

It's a little something that I've bought recently. A spaghetti strapped, black velvet piece with a cowl shaped neck that shows off a bit of my cleavage, form-fitting all the way down to the V shaped end of the dress. It ends high on my thigh, but I have no plans to go dancing tonight, (for Jackson's sake). It's just enough to make him a little hot under his expensive collar. Especially with the lace strings crisscrossed in the back that are the only thing holding the dress up.

A low buzz makes me jump, startling me out of my thoughts. I fish for my phone in the vibrating purse in my lap. I haven't taken it out since last night… The weight of Baekhyun's unblocked number in my phone is a heavy load... and I only have myself to blame.

My eyes widen at the caller ID on the screen: Him. And I know exactly who he is.

Biting my nails, I weigh my options: answer now and end up canceling my plans or call him back tomorrow... 

…

Would it really be that bad to cancel? No—I can't. Jackson thinks I'm a punctual woman and…

"Always so sweet for me," He murmurs lowly, painting my skin with the shape of his lips.

My breath hitches, mouth going dry as more memories dance in my mind. Skin on skin, hushed whispers, champagne painted breaths...

"Mmm you're so wet," He groans, grazing my clit with his teeth. "Making a mess all over me."

A knock on my door makes me pause, staring down at the buzzing phone in my hand.

7 months without Baekhyun… and it has resorted to this.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—Fuck!

I power down the phone, toss it back into my bag, pull it onto my shoulder and launch myself out of my chair to open the door before I lose my nerve. The sight that greets me on the other side of the door makes my heart flutter, but…

"Hey," Jackson smiles softly, his dark brown eyes sparkling under the bright lights.

It doesn't take my breath away.

"Hi," I manage a smile, tucking my hair behind my ear.

"You look beautiful," He compliments, his eyes sparkling even more as he looks over my dress before meeting my eyes again.

My smile grows, warmth spreading over my cheeks. "Thank you," I mutter softly, laughing a little. "You're not too bad yourself."

He smiles again, gesturing to me, the shine of his thin gold bracelet reflecting the hallway lights. "May I?"

"Hmm?—Oh!" I gasp, noticing the red and black corsage in his hands. "Y-Yes," I smile shyly, my heart pounding when he holds out his hand to me.

Jackson gently takes my hand, carefully slipping the corsage around my wrist. The caress of his rough fingertips makes a shiver go down my spine, goosebumps left on my skin when he pulls away.

His outfit catches my attention. Normally I'd feel a little shameless for looking at him from head to toe, but after what happened earlier… I can use a distraction.

He's wearing a black blazer with a matching lace turtleneck shirt underneath that gives me a glimpse of his toned skin, making my breath hitch. A golden necklace with a pendant rests in the middle of his chest, making him look so attractive when it twinkles under the lights. And with the way his shirt is tucked into his stylish black jeans… Fuck me ten times over.

My eyes trail further down his body. He has on that expensive gold watch I saw the first time we met and elegant rings on his veiny hands. I forget to breathe remembering how it felt to be held in his strong arms...

Snapping out of my daze, my wide eyes dart back up to his, finding the sweetest of shy smiles on his lips and a pink hue to his cheeks. He just caught me checking him out and he's blushing. Adorable. Clearing my throat, I smile, feeling my own face heat up under his admiring gaze. "Not bad at all."

His soft chuckle makes me feel less embarrassed. Maybe he can tell that I'm nervous… but not what has me so nervous.

Baekhyun's tear-stained face has been haunting me all day and I barely managed to get any sleep last night. His small voice replays in my head and soft spoken words cover my skin. My face heats up and pales at the same time at the reminder of what I was thinking about not even 10 minutes ago. I had a memory of him going down on me for Christ sake! Looking up at Jackson's handsome face, I feel another wave of hot shame. Can the ground please open up and swallow me whole?

"Shall we?" Jackson asks, bring my attention back to him. He offers his elbow to me, waiting for me to lock my arm with his. Another smile forms on my face; I have to suppress a giggle bubbling in my chest. He's so sweet and gentle compared to all the other men in my life. Ugh, my poor heart is racing like crazy.

I lock the door behind me and wrap my arm around his, appreciating the firmness of his bicep as he leads us down the hallway. The taps of our respective shoes echo around the quiet hall while we wait a few minutes for the elevator to arrive. "I'm not taking too much of your time, am I?" I mumble, watching the floor numbers rise to avoid his gaze.

"Hmm?" Jackson hums, his alluring cologne hitting me when he turns his head to look at me.

"Your schedule," I elaborate, glancing at him from under my eyelashes. "I'm not infringing on your work time, am I?"

"No," He shakes his head, holding the metal doors open for me while I walk into the elevator.

"But you said you are in the middle of the most important part of filming and-" I stop, my eyes widening at the warmth on my cheeks.

"Riley." Jackson looks right into my eyes, his rough palms cradling my face. "You are not 'taking too much' of my time, alright?" He mumbles, brown eyes drifting over my features while his thumb swipes over the top of my cheek, leaving a blaze of gentle heat in its wake. "This night is for us."

My heart practically leaps out of my chest the longer I stare into his warm eyes. I break eye contact. "O-Okay," I whisper, smiling shyly.

Jackson smiles, taking my hand when the elevator doors open onto the ground floor. As we walk past the security guard in the lobby, I wonder how I look next to him… He's the same height as Baekhyun, more toned where the latter has softer edges. They both have sharp jawlines, but Jackson's cheeks are more chiseled than squishy like Baekhyun's sweet face—

"Ladies first," His low voice muses.

Lifting my head from my white high heels, I look into Jackson's eyes, realizing that his dark brown eyes don't hold the same tension Baekhyun's does when I am taller than him like this. My shyness aside, with my almost average height and tall heels, I'm a few centimeters taller than Jackson. But instead of finding that spark of insecurity I'm used to seeing in Baekhyun's eyes, Jackson looks at me as if I am the goddess who put the moon in the sky.

Stepping out into the quiet night, I look up at the stars, having to blink a few times when I see a pair of droopy brown eyes staring down at me. No. I shake my head, sighing in frustration. God, why do I see him everywhere I go?

We make our way to the parking lot on the side of the apartment complex. The silence between us isn't striffling like the one I've come to grow wary of over the past year. That piercing void full of held back frustration and heated glares...

A car unlocks in the distance, drawing my attention to a sleek black vehicle when it lights up. A Jaguar, stunning with it's cat-eye headlights and the way the engine purrs to life. The car is honestly mesmerizing, and it suits Jackson well, but my heart tugs painfully in my chest when he opens the passenger door for me and I don't see any red accessory detailing on the inside...

"You look stunning in that dress." He says when he climbs into the driver's seat, his low voice making me feel something deep in my stomach.

"T-Thank you," I blush scarlet, shifting towards the passenger window to hide my red face. It's been a long time since someone has complimented me so genuinely. I haven't felt like this since—

"Are you really that insecure?"

The memory hits me like a punch to the gut.

"You okay?" Jackson asks, his eyes shining with concern.

"Y-Yeah," I whisper, clutching onto my purse. My face hasn't cooled down since I left my apartment and I doubt it will at this rate. Between Jackson's sweet eyes and Baekhyun's teary ones that haven't left my mind, I'm royally screwed. "How's work?" 

Jackson hums. "It's good." He keeps his eyes on the road, pulling out of the parking lot. "The movie is coming along nicely."

Taking a few discrete and deep breaths, I rest my head on my arm, focusing on the low timbre of his raspy voice. "Did the tech team find any more of those files?"

"No." He shakes his head, making a left turn. "Thankfully those were the only ones," He smiles, glancing over at me; the twinkles of excitement and affection in his eyes is hard to ignore. "Now the editing team can take over."

I fight the urge to rest a hand over my heart. "The movie won't be delayed?"

"The movie won't be delayed," He confirms warmly, focusing fully on me at the next red light. His brown hair falls attractively over his forehead, casting a shadow over his dark and expressive eyes. "We'll be ahead of schedule. Everyone worked in advance while waiting for the tech team to sort through the files."

"That's good," I smile, turning my attention to our surroundings streaming past the window.

Jackson navigates us down the long Seoul streets, the city lights reflecting in his dark eyes while he steers the wheel with both hands. He looks handsome under the favor of the moonlight, the headlights of passing cars sparkling across his thin necklace. For a moment I imagine a future—an us. How it would feel to hold his calloused hands and gaze into his adoring eyes. What it would be like to wake up to his face in the mornings. That deep, raspy voice… I shiver at the thought, praying the traffic lights don't show the red hue I feel on my cheeks.

Soft and slow R&B floats from the quiet car radio, caressing my ears with its gentle melodies while Jackson turns his blinkers on. I hum, tapping along to the beat, a smile curling at my lips. It's a perfect song for a summer night like this, adding a calming atmosphere to the intimate space of Jackson's car—

"I love this song."

Baekhyun raises a brow, his eyes focused on the road as he turns up the radio with a smile. "Really?"

"Yeah." He has such a stunning side profile, I could gaze at him for hours. "I listened to a lot of their songs growing up."

"Your parents have great taste."

"Mm." The sunlight reflecting in his brown eyes has nothing on the sparkles of happiness in his shining orbs. "I guess you do too."

I sigh through my nose, shoving down the emotions budding in my chest. No matter how hard I try, memories of him continue to play in my mind. All our romantic mid-day drives and late night talks of a future we thought we had in store… Our shared hopes and dreams that went up in flames before our very eyes.

Next thing I know, Jackson is putting the car into park, the purr of the engine cutting off in exchange for the summer heat seeping in through the pause of the air conditioner.

"You ready?" He looks over at me, the urge to brush his hair out of his eyes hitting me full force.

"Yeah," I smile, curling my hand around the strap of my purse. The giddy smile he gives me in return is so damn sweet I want to cry.

Jackson steps out of the Jaguar and it doesn't take him long to round the car. He opens the passenger door for me before I realize that we've reached the restaurant.

"Thank you," I giggle in embarrassment, placing my hand in the one he offers me with another one of those adorable smiles of his. My heart skips a beat when he presses a kiss to the back of my hand while I step out onto the asphalt. If he keeps this up I'm going to have a heart attack over this softness. What the hell, why aren't there more guys like Jackson in the world? And how the hell has he been single this whole time with him out here sweeping me off my feet like this?

His widened smile and the way his eyes drift over my features has a comforting warmth settling over my beating heart. He leads the way to the restaurant, opening the door for me like the heart-fluttering gentleman he is. He's going all out on winning me over tonight and I'm loving every minute of it.

The smell of freshly baked lasagna and garlic bread has my mouth watering as we make our way up to the counter. I catch a peek at the beautifully arranged, round wooden tables under a romantic lighting in the next room.

"Reservations for Wang." Jackson's voice sounds more firm when he addresses the lady at the counter, a flicker of his director persona flashing across his face. If nothing else, one look at him and you can tell that he's about business—even for a little date like this. A first date too. It's hard fighting my adoring smile.

The receptionist checks on the computer in front of her and looks down at her clipboard, nodding with a polite smile. "Right this way," She gestures to the next room. Her black suit, matching bow tie, and crisp clean, white dress shirt add onto the expensive air of the restaurant. The food is fresh, the atmosphere is dreamy, and every surface shines brightly under the dim candle-lit lights.

The further we walk into the restaurant, the more I have to be sure not to let my jaw drop in awe. Everything about this place is magical, from the happily conversing customers to the beautiful chandeliers in the hallway. The receptionist leads us to a table in a more secluded area, the muffled chatter of the rest of the patrons coming through the velvet walls. "Your water will be out shortly," She sets the menus on the table before taking her leave with a bow.

"Allow me," Jackson murmurs, his words caressing my ear. His cologne washes over me when he walks over to the table, pulling out a chair and waiting for me with the most charming smile on his face. I can't hold my own back even if I tried.

"Thank you," I say warmly, humored and flattered beyond belief. The proximity of his hand to my bare shoulders has a pleasant shiver going down my spine. A flush forms on my face. The man has done nothing but be a gentleman and I'm over here yearning for his touch like a giddy teenager.

Jackson's scent hits me once again when he moves to take his seat. The minty smell of aftershave and a hint of his own unique manly scent has me damn near drooling and we haven't even had appetizers yet. My stomach is building tension and I doubt it has anything to do with the menu.

"How was your day?" He inquires.

I startle out of my horny musings like a cat doused in cold water. Oh shit. "It was alright," I laugh nervously, trying to keep my voice from wavering into that annoying raspy tone it gets when I'm not careful enough. "I turned in my final assignments and am awaiting my test results for the semester." 

A waiter comes to take our order, sparing me a few minutes from having to explain myself. I'm struggling to find words here. What am I supposed to say? "Oh yeah, I spent all day daydreaming about my heartbroken ex and the steamy sex we used to have." I'd die of embarrassment so damn fast. I'm appalled at myself.

"What are you studying?" His dark brown eyes are back on me when the waiter walks away. A flutter stutters in my chest under his attentive gaze.

"Business," I resist the urge to rest my chin on my palm, choosing to swirl my fork around my salad instead. "I'm working on my bachelor's degree. I want to improve my performance at work."

His eyes widen, curiosity painting on his handsome features. "What do you do?"

I smile softly. He's adorable. "I'm the Director at Park's Publishing."

"You work in a publishing house?"

"I manage the 5th floor," I share, a smirk quirking at my lips. The last thing I did this morning before going home around lunch was inform everyone about our busy schedule at the end of the month. "I miss my editing days, not gonna lie." I laugh, poking an olive. "Sorry, work kind of stresses me out."

"No," Jackson shakes his head, smiling softly, "I get it. Taking a group of people under your wing is a big responsibility."

"It's sooo difficult." Sighing, I cross my legs, the back of my heel clicking against the leg of my chair. "Since I'm not directly in charge of editing, I have to guide others and keep reminding myself that I can't do the work for them. They have to learn on their own."

"Same," He nods, swallowing a bite of Italian seasoning drenched tomato and lettuce. "I have to fight the urge to take things over that the marketing and editing teams are supposed to handle." A flicker of annoyance crosses his face, making me smile in understanding. "Good thing I'm not Ceo," He jokes. 

I laugh, thinking to myself: Yeah, thank fuck you aren't one.

When the waiter brings our food, the reminder that I haven't eaten all day stirs in my hungry stomach. I take a bite of my chicken alfredo before it can growl, closing my eyes to hide how they roll back when the gooey goodness of cheese and perfectly boiled noodle hits my tongue. Holy fuck. This food right here is the shit. If I had a meal like this more often, I'd never complain again in my life.

I find myself observing Jackson while he enjoys his own meal. He chews with his mouth closed, neatly cutting his chicken with a fork and knife. The room is quiet with only the soft music playing overhead and the sound of our silverware clicking against the pristine plates.

"I want to wake up every morning to your sleeping face curled up by my side," Baekhyun murmurs, smiling shyly.The red hue of his cheeks endearing under the dim lights. "Your hair products cluttering our dresser and your toothbrush next to mine."

"You really like cucumbers, huh?" Jackson muses.

I jolt out of my thoughts, realizing to my horror that I've been leaning over the table, picking the cucumbers from his salad. "Oh! Y-Yeah," I chuckle, my face burning scarlet. From humor or embarrassment, I have no idea. Probably both at this rate. "You could say that..."

Originally posted by sefuns

August fades seamlessly into September, urging the leaves on trees to change into red, orange, and pretty yellow hues. Gone are the dog days of summer smitting everyone from above. Now the best season of all is coming out to play, and I am all for it.

Skipping down the street in my newest yellow skater dress and nude sandals, I check the GPS on my phone to search for the street that I'm on. Today I decided that walking around aimlessly for hours was the best course of action to clear my mind, and now I've found myself in a part of Seoul that I've never been to before.

The architecture of the landscape around me is something to behold. The windows are cut out squares that only allow light to be seen from within the rooms as the sun goes down, and the buildings are curved this way and that in the most intricate of ways. It surely is a view I wouldn't mind venutring over here to see again sometime. The lively chatter of pedestrians on the sidewalk is refreshing too.

Smiling to myself, my eyes catch sight of a particular building in the distance. I quickly cross the street for a closer look. It's a giant library that looks to be 4 stories tall, showcasing a huge bookshelf on the back wall from the view of the front windows. Highly intrigued, and lowkey smitten, I step inside for a closer look.

The smell of books hits me in an instant, the young and old novels arranged neatly in little bookshelves compared to that mountain of literature on the farthest wall. There's a small cafe serving up delicious muffins to my right and a huge sitting area full of the perfect lounge chairs on my left. Crowds of people make their way to and fro between the aisles without hiccup. There's so much to do that I don't even know where to start.

Walking over to the Romance section, I skim my fingertips along the book covers, aimlessly striding down the aisle until a thin, blue book catches my eye. Curious, I move to pull it out only for another hand to beat me to it. A familiar, slender hand.

I yank my hand back at once. "Dude!" Lowering my voice, I glare at the man in front of me. "Why the hell are you always everywhere? Are you following me around or what?"

"W-What?" Baekhyun's wide brown eyes stare back at me.

"I never thought you'd resort to stalking, Baekhyun." I shake my head, brushing past him, the silver buttons of his waist-length jacket cold against my sun-kissed skin.

"I'm not fucking!" He slaps a hand over his face, exhaling deeply. "I'm not following you around."

"Then why are you here, huh?" I keep my eyes forward, marching into the next aisle.

"Because—will you stop walking away from me?!?!?!"

I freeze, the sheer desperation in his voice roots my feet to the floor. "Why are you here, Baekhyun?" I cross my arms, shivering under the air conditioner overhead.

"Hannam-dong library extraordinaire," He utters, his shadow moving closer as I tense up. "You put it on the bucket list. The one we made together." Hope pours out from his every word, his painfully slow footsteps seeming to stem from the faint memories crowding his mind. "You listed every place you wanted to go and w-we, we never…" He stops when his voice cracks, clearing his throat. "You made a copy by hand so we'd always have it," He mumbles sadly. "I guess it's meaningless now."

Emotions grip at my throat and tears threaten to fill my eyes. I slowly turn around, snatching the book out of his hands. "Give me that." Flickering my eyes up to his hurt-filled eyes, I gesture to the sitting area with my chin. "Follow me."

Baekhyun follows behind me without a word, shuffling his boots noisily on the carpeted floor. I have half the mind to tell him about it until I remember where we are—in a library and in life. Biting my tongue, I plop down into the longest couch available, staring at his nervous figure when he doesn't join me. "Come on!" I snap, throwing a pillow at him that he's quick to catch. "Sit your ass down, I don't got all day." I grumble, opening the blue book. "I came here to read and I plan to do so."

A few moments go by, nothing but the quiet chatter of visitors and the coffee pot whistling on the other side of the room fills the air. Just when my heart drops at the thought of him being gone, a weight sinks down into the couch next to me. I look to see Baekhyun in a grey sweater, his jacket left on the back of the chair. His eyes are closed and neck is bare while resting his head on the back of the couch. Silver locks of hair messily dangle on his forehead, long eyelashes caressing the tops of his cheeks. I frown at the lack of fluff I find there, his mother's words a distant whisper in my ear.

Baekhyun makes me jump when he peeks an eye open, opening the other before blinking slowly at me. "I'm listening," He murmurs softly, keeping those expressive brown eyes on me.

My heart skips a beat. Smiling to myself, I focus back on the book in my hands, flipping to the first page and beginning to read aloud.

•••

Weeks fly by once mid September hits, endless clusters of colored leaves blowing away in its wind. The sun rises later in the day and sets at a different angle at night, casting warm shadows over my bedroom window that never fail to bring a smile to my face. Everything about this time of year puts me in high spirits. The weather is perfect for my velvety outfits and the annoying ass bugs are finally starting to go away. It's a calm, homey fairytale land full of sweet breezes and mid autumn adventures.

I lean over my vanity while painstakingly applying my red lipstick in the mirror, smoothing it out with care. My makeup for tonight goes well with my newest party dress, a burgundy velvet, off the shoulder piece with a deep v neck. It has long puffed sleeves with fitted cuffs that wrap comfortably around my wrists and a matching belt to emphasize the hourglass shape of my waist. The thick material is perfect for early October, the nights beginning to get just the littlest bit colder.

Humming to myself, I carefully put on my gold dangling earrings, smiling at the reflection of my wavy hair. Just letting it air dry with curling irons in it for a few minutes ended up with the subtle result. I'm attending one of Jackson's infamous parties tonight as his date, not his seducer. Although, I don't need to get all dolled up to impress him anyway. Batting my eyelashes and looking intensely into his deep, dark brown eyes is enough.

This time around, I'm prepared for the knock on my door. Two months of various dates has sunk a certain time into my core. 10pm on the dot. Punctual as always. My red painted lips quirk up at the thought. With one last glance into my vanity mirror, I spin around on my one-inch, open-toed black heels, strutting over to open the door and whistling at the sight.

Jackson smiles, looking hot as hell in his black blazer and thin gold chain with no shirt underneath. His muscular thighs look amazing in his tight jeans, and with his brown hair brushed back with a few strands of hair attractively left on his forehead…

"You look gorgeous," He murmurs, planting a kiss on my forehead while I'm distracted by his two sets of gold earrings.

I smile coyly, tucking my finger in his necklace and tugging on it lightly. "You're not so bad yourself."

Conversations between us flow more easily over the past few months. I show him my sass and he throws it right back, making me laugh every time. His attractive mind comes up with the most astounding ideas and points of view. There are many different sides to him as well. His confident, professional way of handling business to how he likes to roll over on my couch to rest his head in my lap and look up at me with those dark brown puppy eyes. 

Things are easy—that's just how it is with Jackson. It's a nice change from the complicated men in my life. He's adorable and sexy all in one.

The clicks of my heels echo across the sidewalk as we walk up to the frat house, my hand wrapped around his bicep. The party is just starting to pick up it seems; a fair amount of party goers are streaming in the front double doors.

"I want to introduce you to someone," Jackson perks up the moment we reach the entrance.

"Really?" I bat my eyes at him, stepping closer when someone brushes past us in a hurry. "Well, I'm down for that."

He smiles, holding the door open for me. I softly squeeze his bicep before letting him go, walking into his alumni house for the first time in almost a year. Last December I was crossing this same threshold with Jenny by my side, can you believe that? A lot can happen in 10 months, and I can't wait for what's in store for me.

"Jackson!" A deep voice reaches us over the loud music and growing crowd. I can barely make out a figure under all the neon lights, beckoning us over. Jackson's cologne washes over me before I feel his arm brush against my back.

"Let's go," He takes my hand in his, a smile audible in his raspy voice. I follow his lead, swiveling my head around to take in the view of the house. Just as I thought, everything is impeccably arranged. From the mini bar in the back corner to the DJ booth, it screams Jackson. Charming. Intelligent. And expensive. Even with the clumsy party attendees stumbling around.

He turns the corner on the right side of the hallway, following the medium-build figure walking down to a slightly ajar door at the end of the hall. The chatter from within the small room comes to a halt when the stranger pushes open the door.

"Took you long enough, Tuan!" A high-pitched, bubbly voice laughs, their plump lips smiling in amusement.

The man we've been following turns around, smiling while 5 other pairs of eyes land on us. "Hey, man."

"Mark," Jackson steps forward for a bro hug, clapping a hand over the raven's back. He goes around to do the same and fist bumps the other men in the room before standing next to me again. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

All of them smile, curiosity and friendliness coming off of them in waves—except for one.

Yugyeom sits with his legs crossed in the far corner of the room, smirking while leaning his head in his hand. I make a point to ignore him, shaking everyone's hand with my most polite smile. Their compliments of my dress has me blushing all the way up to my ears. Thankfully the dim lights hide it from view.

Jackson and I take a spot on the only available couch in the cozy room, sitting between Mark and another man with sharp cat-like eyes and a barbell piercing.

"Is this your first party?" The latter asks, swirling the brown alcohol in his glass.

"No," I smile, way too aware of Yugyeom's stare burning into the side of my head. I carefully open a can of beer that Jackson hands to me, taking a long sip.

"Huh," He takes a swing of his drink while I lean my head onto Jackson's shoulder. "Why haven't I seen you around before?"

"I have," Yugyeom joins in, smirking and wiggling his eyebrows at me from over the rim of his glass. My eye twitches. Yeah, I see why this little shit and Jenny broke up.

I quietly observe everyone while the night carries on, the faint bass from the music down the hallway vibrating through the floor. Jackson catches up with his "brothers," in the meantime, updating them on the progress of his film. My eyes lazily sweep over the well-furnished room, the edges of my vision turning blurry. I make sure that the next two cans of beer that I drink aren't open when they are handed to me.

Sometime around midnight, I loosen up, the buzz of alcohol rushing through my veins prompting me to lose my filter. Between BamBam with the plush lips playful banter and the juicy tales of Jaebum's romantic conquests, I'm positively beaming, chatting without a care with my legs draped over Jackson's lap.

Mark cracks a joke that sends me reeling, nearly falling off of the couch if it wasn't for the man next to me, wrapping a strong arm around my waist. I hide my face in the crook of his neck, taking in his vanilla scent. The hint of citrus on his honey-toned skin has warmth spreading over my chest, the image of his sweet, brown puppy eyes printed behind my eyelids.

I laugh until I realize how dead silent the room has gotten. Lifting my head, I look around before tugging lightly on Jackson's sleeve. "Hey..." I murmur with difficulty, growing unnerved under their piercing stares. "What's-"

"Let's call it a night," He mutters, not meeting my eye.

Snapping my mouth shut, I nod, wondering what I did wrong while he bids everyone goodnight. I stand up with the help of his hand on my arm, guiding me over to the doorway that seems to be tilting to the side.

"Hey…" I try again, focusing hard on putting one foot in front of the other. What happened…? Did I laugh too hard? React too dramatically? Is there a piece of fruit stuck between my teeth? I knew I shouldn't have had that parfait before—

Jackson pulls aside me to an empty corner shielded by large plants in the hallway. His lips part a few times before he presses them into a thin line. "You just called me Baekhyun," He mutters, clenching his jaw.

Oh. I sober up in a heartbeat. "S-Shit, I-" The color drains from my face the longer I gaze into his disappointed dark brown eyes. I can feel tears filling my own. "I'm so sorry-"

"It's fine." His stiff posture says otherwise and I've never seen such a hard expression on his features before. "I'll drive you home."

"Wait…" Resting my hand on his arm, I brace myself with a racing heart for the backlash I'll get for what I'm about to ask. "C-Can you drop me off somewhere instead?"

•••

The car ride into the heart of Seoul is stifling. I can't recall us ever being like this… let alone having Jackson angry with me. His grip on the steering wheel has his knuckles turning white, the clench of his jaw concerning me as well. I can only blame myself, swearing inwardly for coming out tonight. 

This wasn't supposed to happen… None of this was. The Baekhyun; the shy smiles; the longing. The Yugyeom; the drinking; the nerves... If I could go back in time, I never would have gone to that frat party last year. I would have stayed at Jenny's apartment, bonding over skincare routines and shitty tv shows. But no... I had to go out that December night, and now I am facing the consequences.

It's taking everything in me just to hold back my tears.

"We're here." Jackson speaks up after an hour of silence, nothing but the zooming cars and lively nightlife filling up the empty space from beyond the tinted windows. It does little to ease the tension in the car—it only seems to build when he pulls up to the curb, leaving the engine running.

A lump forms in my throat, making it hard to breathe. I can't even face him right now. By the cold look in his eyes, I know there is no use trying to talk to him. I can't even defend myself. There's only one explanation for what happened earlier, and it's the most shitty one of all... 

Baekhyun.

On my mind; in my thoughts; in my heart. The way his long eyelashes brush the top of his glowy cheeks and the world swirling in his sparkly brown eyes when he looks at me. Everywhere I go, I see him, feel him, and wish he was there… From the darkest crevices of my anxious mind to the deepest depths of my beating heart.

No matter where I turn. No matter how much I try. There is only one man in the world for me in this lifetime. There is only one name my soul cries out for… and it isn't the one next to me.

I swallow hard, my heart aching for Jackson. The telling shine of tears reflected in his brown eyes can't be hidden when a truck drives past, revealing the vulnerability in his dark eyes. I hate that things are ending this way. The pounding of my head and sour taste on the back of my tongue are only reminders of how much I've messed up tonight.

Working up my nerve, I step out of his Jaguar, ducking my head back inside with a tight grip on the door.

"Thank you," I whisper over the loud crickets and crying tree frogs, "For everything." Sighing shakily, I crack one last smile as a tear rolls down my cheek. "Thank you for showing me how wonderful life can be."

Jackson turns his head, regarding me with teary, fire-filled eyes. His throat bobs and he manages a small smile in return, nodding slowly. "The pleasure is all mine, Riley."

With a pounding heart, I close the car door with care, walking onto the curb. I look back over my shoulder one more time when I reach the doors of the apartment complex, watching him drive off with a sad smile. The quiet night wraps around me, bringing me little comfort against the bitter cold that I feel inside of my heart. What if I'm making a mistake? I just walked away from the only man who treated me the way I deserve… A stable, well off man for a broken, world shattering one.

A million thoughts race through my mind while climbing the stairs to his apartment, my hand clutching onto the railing for dear life. What if he's not home? What if I'm too late? What if he's finally moved on and I'm the only one still stuck in the past? Still stuck on us?

Tears spring to my eyes, making it hard to see the wobbly steps with my blurred vision, but I carry on, one step at a time. Something tugs deep in my chest—a gut feeling. One that has me pausing from the sheer force behind it.

Baekhyun is my home, and he is waiting for me.

I break out into a run, nearly slipping on the last step before I reach the landing of the fourth floor, swinging the stairway door open so hard it collides with the wall. My heels pound against the marble floor until I trip over something, slamming my head on his door. The resounding thud echoes across the silent walls and the door is yanked open within seconds.

His wide, shock-filled brown eyes stare at me from the doorway, with his messy silver hair and a white wrinkled t-shirt.

I all but throw myself at him.

Baekhyun gasps, catching me before I fall. "Riley, I-"

"No." I shake my head, hugging him tighter, my voice wavering. "You listen to me." Looking up into his brown eyes, I cup his warm cheeks in my cold hands. "I don't care how long it takes, I don't care how much my heart breaks." My chin wobbles, salty tears streaming like a waterfall down my face, but nothing else matters. Nothing can hurt me when I'm in his comforting embrace.

"If it's not with you, I don't want it," I breathe, staring deep into his glimmering eyes. "Do you hear me? You can break my heart a million times, and I can do the same." Swiping a tear from under his eye, I cradle his face in my palm, painting his vulnerable expression into memory. "As long as we mend it back together, we will be okay." I nod, looking between his wide eyes. "We will get through this." I state firmly, melting against him when he tightens his hold on my waist. "We are in this together. Okay?" His silence is worrying me… "B?"

"Are you…" He slowly reaches up, cupping my cold cheek in his warm hand, his frantic brown eyes searching mine for answers. "Are you really here?" He whispers.

"Yes." I watch the light begin to return to his tired eyes. "I'm here, Baekhyun." I pull him closer, squeezing him in my arms, his racing heart beating in sync with mine. "I'm here." My heart drops when he pulls away.

Baekhyun shakes his head, moving his hand from my cheek to take mine into his. "I'm stubborn, insecure, and possessive." He mutters, gazing right into my eyes, determination written all over his face. "I'm… I'm annoying, overbearing, and a workaholic."

I give him my softest, loving smile. "Well, me too." Slowly reaching for him again, I paint my name on his honey-toned skin with my fingertips. "Let's be fucked up together, hmm?"

"I…" He sighs, resting his forehead on mine, staring lovingly and worriedly into my eyes. "I don't want you to regret this."

"I won't," I murmur, tracing three little words across his collarbones. "If I do, we'll fight and then have makeup sex."

Baekhyun chokes. "You're terrible." He coughs, patting his chest, the red hue on his cheeks more endearing than ever before.

I shrug, smiling at him. "When it comes to you?" Sliding my hand up his chest, I tangle my fingers in his messy hair, hovering my lips over his, "I am many things."

•••

It's funny; how easy it is to fall back into him. His loving arms and secure embrace. Every day spent with him slowly mends the cracks in my fragile heart, filling them with the most everlasting remedy of all. Love.

Time is endless when I am with him. Moments become weeks. Seconds turn into hours. Being with Baekhyun makes any taxing and mundane task into a precious activity that I'd love to do again—just because it's him.

Our dynamic has changed, even the air around us is new. We talk about everything. We face problems head on. A few arguments break out sometimes because we are two stubborn individuals, but those aren't a problem now. No big fights. No tearing into each other. I may call him an asshole and he'll rebuke with that I'm being a bitch, (which I am more often than not,) but at the end of the day. When the tension is gone and our sad eyes lock from across the room. We work things out and fall more in love with each other, no matter the struggle we've been through.

—Like right now.

"Perfect," I laugh bitterly, taking out my earrings while storming into the living room. "Fucking perfect."

"Riley," Baekhyun sighs, closing the door.

"No. Fuck this." I spit heatedly, throwing my hands up. "You always do this bullshit. Every time I go out you have something to say. What is it, huh? Why you always got to be up in my shit-"

Turning to him, I'm met by tired brown eyes, his hands falling limply to his sides. "Can we talk this out?" He asks softly, eyes pleading. "I rather hold you than fight."

Still huffing and puffing, I stare into his puppy eyes and sad pout. Without a word, I march over to him, tucking myself under his chin and wrapping my arms around his waist.

"I get it, okay? I have no problems with you going out with your friends." He mumbles into my hair, kissing my head. "I just want to make sure you are safe. Call me, text me, send me a pic to let me know that you're alright." He pulls back a little to cup my face in his hands, staring deep into my eyes. "You're my baby," He whispers, brushing frustrated tears from my cheeks. "If something ever happened to you I wouldn't be able to live with myself. Please understand where I'm coming from."

"Okay." I mumble against his shoulder, hiding more in his vanilla scent. "...I'm sorry for going off on you."

"Shh," Baekhyun hugs me tighter, surrounding me in his warmth and tangling his fingers in my hair. "I trust you, okay?" He nuzzles in my hair, sighing softly. "It's the rest of the world that I don't."

I love him. I love him with every part of me. If I had the chance to go back in time, I'd choose to meet him every time. Even on days where I have to walk out of his apartment to catch a breather. Those cold nights where I stubbornly shiver on his balcony until he comes out to place his jacket on my shoulders. And the times I ask myself why the hell I'm fighting with him over which color we should switch his window curtains into again. Despite all the good and the bad. The happiness and earth shattering agony. I wouldn't change it for the world.

"Are you cold?" Baekhyun mumbles, bringing the back of my hand to his cheek.

"I'm fine, B," I reassure, ignoring the goosebumps that erupt on my skin. From his loving touch or the cold bite of the November air, I have no idea. Most likely both.

"You're shivering." He points out, already struggling off his jacket before I can respond. "I told you it would be cold today."

"I wanted to take the risk, okay?" I sigh, smiling into the cinnamon scented fabric he places on my shoulders.

"It's the middle of November," He murmurs with a shake of his head, tucking our joined hands into the pocket of his jeans.

"Maybe," I mumble in amusement, beaming at him and batting my eyelashes. "But you love this dress on me. Admit it." Today I'm wearing a royal blue summer dress. The weather may be shifting from windy fall to bitter winter, but that won't stop me from rocking this sleeveless, v neck, shirt dress with a tie around my waist.

Baekhyun's eyes shift away from the red crosswalk light ahead to look me over, taking his time with a little cheeky smile on his face. "Well," He murmurs, mischief shining in his sparkly brown eyes. "I can't deny that."

I giggle, ignoring the warmth on my cheeks when he softly squeezes my hand, leading the way as we cross the street. I've missed this feeling: walking hand and hand—our fingers interwtined and young hearts racing as one. Not even the chilly wind can ruin the mood I'm in—I just tuck myself closer to his side.

Baekhyun hums, wrapping his arm around me, pulling me closer when a group of children come running down the sidewalk. The shrill voice of their scolding mother has us sharing a knowing look, smiling shyly. Yeah, nothing quite gets better than this.

"Riley?"

I stiffen, that low, raspy voice shakes me to my very core.

Baekhyun's brown eyes shoot to mine in an instant. "Baby?" He murmurs, a worried frown on his face as he leans to my ear. "Do you know him?"

"Um-" I avoid his eyes, holding onto the hem of his shirt for dear life. "I- Uh-"

A shadow falls over us before a figure walks around to face us, and those dark brown puppy eyes have never looked so solemn. Fuck.

"Jackson Wang?" Baekhyun blinks, sending me into an internal panic. "Hey, man," He smiles, going in for a handshake. "Long time no see. How's the movie?"

Jackson's brown eyes stare into mine before he looks down at Baekhyun's hand. "Good."

Baekhyun frowns, retracting his hand, confusion written all over his face.

"Hey, fancy seeing you here," I manage a small, polite smile, my heart racing nervously when Jackson pulls the towel from around his neck, his dark brown eyes landing back on me. "What you up to?" I tilt my head, resting a hand on Baekhyun's back.

"Out for a jog," Jackson shrugs, the fabric of his black t-shirt sticking to his damp skin. His eyes track how Baekhyun reaches back to take my hand into his. "I was supposed to play basketball with the guys," He continues sourly, "But they blew me off."

"Ah…" I purse my lips, straining another smile. "I hope you all can meet up soon."

He nods, the clench of his jaw and unreadable look in his eyes telling me all that I need to know.

"Well!" Resting my hand on Baekhyun's bicep, I risk a glance at him, unnerved at the equally hard to read expression on his features. "Baekhyun and I will be heading out now. We have reservations to make."

Jackson merely nods, his eyes burning into the back of my head as I lead Baekhyun around him. "See you around, Riley."

Cursing under my breath, I shoot him one last smile over my shoulder, urging Baekyun to walk faster. I hold my breath until we turn the corner onto the next street. "Geez what a mess," I mutter, loosening my death grip on his hand.

Baekhyun continues to securely hold onto my hand and his calm, quiet reaction has me more anxious than all the fights we've had combined. "B-Baekhyun?" I ask tentatively, trying to read his side profile. "Are you okay?" The way his silence stretches out is killing me. "B?"

"Well," He mumbles, nudging a stray rock on the ground. "Jackson is nice. He seems cool."

Uh oh. "Baekhyun-"

"No no, it's fine." He shakes his head. "I see the appeal, you know?" He looks over at me, smiling sadly. "Sharp jawline, muscular, more manly than I'll ever-"

I pull him into the nearest alleyway for privacy before facing him head on, resting my hands on his chest. "You know I only want you, right B?"

"I-I do, I just-" If the kicked puppy expression on his face was for anything else, I'd find it endearing. "He's so well put together and-"

I promptly press my lips to his, pulling back after a few moments with a raised brow. "Better?"

Baekhyun's lips part a few times, the open expression on his face cute as hell. He makes a small noise and hugs me close, sealing my lips in another kiss.

After that day, the ice has broken between us—the last wall I had built up came crumbling down. Hiding from Baekhyun isn't needed anymore. The reassurance that we can actually talk about things instead of letting tension build is all I could ask for, alongside his love and time of course. If only I could be with him tonight.

Mrs. Park wanted me to attend a press conference or whatever with her out of the blue, saying something about it being "a big deal" and "very important" that I be there. So here I am, accessing my options for the night.

Three different outfits cover the entirety of my bed, each bringing forth a slightly different mood from the last. The first one is my trusty go-to, below the knee length dress. A simple black piece of material that's flattering for my figure without exposing my wild side. The second outfit is a basic black blazer, white dress shirt, and black dress pants—the bore of all boring clothing. Nothing wrong with it, but I'm not feeling really "plain and dull" tonight.

Now, the third option is one to behold.

A dress that is a combination between the two: a long sleeved, low cut, black dress with pretty lace for the left sleeve and solid material on the right that wraps over more lace underneath. The perfect mix of femininity and authority. I think I know which outfit is the one for me. 

Slipping into the warm material with ease, I grab my car keys and head out to meet Mrs. Park at the venue. The thought of sending Baekhyun a text crosses my mind while taking the elevator. Now that I think about it, I haven't heard from him all day. Where he at?? Is he still working late or did my comment about him never cooking a meal in his life hurt his feelings last night? If I wasn't piled up to my ears with paperwork all day I would have stopped by his office to have lunch…

Frowning to myself, I keep both my hands on the steering wheel, leaving my phone untouched in my purse on the passenger floor. Worried or not, I'm not even going to pull out my phone at the next red light. In a big city like Seoul, it's best not to take any chances, if any for that matter.

I navigate down the bright streets with ease, thankful that my GPS is cooperating with me today. Within an hour of traffic jams and watching out for jaywalkers on the street, I'm pulling into the parking lot of the venue. And with Mrs. Park leaning against the hood of her car, she isn't hard to find.

Making a three point turn, I back up into the parking space next to hers, not up for the hassle of dealing with gold digger assholes who will want me to hit them with my car later. Seoul or the South, the bullshitty ways of the road aren't that different.

"Hey," Mrs. Park smiles when I step out of my Porshe, dressed to the nines in her black pantsuit. She tilts her head towards the venue, the twinkle of her diamond earrings catching in the bright streetlights. "You ready to go?"

I walk around to her side to retrieve my purse from my car, tucking my hair behind my ear. "Yes, ma'am."

She smirks, a knowing look in her eye before locking her car. "Let's go."

Eyeing her warily, I follow her to the grand building, the clicks of our heels echoing across the pavement. For a moment the silence around us has me worrying if we are late until I see a red carpet surrounded by paparazzi in the far distance. What the hell?

"What exactly are we attending?" I ask carefully.

"A press conference," She doesn't miss a beat, glancing over at me. "Don't look so scared."

"I-"

"Smile," She continues, smiling reassuringly, "Just be yourself."

Sighing softly, I nod, preparing myself for anything. I trust Mrs. Park a lot, but if her cheeky son is anything to go by, I might be walking into something right now. And I have no idea what is awaiting me.

The clicks of the flashing cameras become more audible as we approach, a dozen cameramen throwing questions at us at once. I just smile, making sure all my sides are my best side while walking down the red carpet. Mrs. Park dodges their questions with ease, falling into step with me. We enter the open double doors of the venue without a hitch and the sight on the inside takes my breath away.

Floor to ceiling windows occupy the spacious hall with rows upon rows of velvet covered seats and a chandelier sparkling overhead. The stage at the far back has the first set of burgundy curtains drawn, showing a microphone stand. What kind of press conference is this? The amount of seating astounds me, let alone when Mrs. Park walks us right up to the front row.

I have so many questions to ask, but I just sit down in the seat at the end of the row, on the left side closest to the stairs leading up to the stage.

"Are we early?" I crane my neck around, watching other sharply dressed businessmen and women slowly fill up the venue.

"No." Mrs Park shakes her head as the lights dim down, smiling knowingly. "We're right on time."

Before I can reply, something shiny catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. I turn my head to face the stage, my eyes widening at the silver haired man walking out onto the stage.

"Good evening, everyone." Baekhyun's honey-smooth voice echoes around the hall. He struts over to the mic stand with a white microphone in hand, his Ceo aura and chosen outfit for the night taking my breath away.

He's wearing a sparkly black blazer with a black button-down shirt underneath, the first few buttons undone. The sleeves of his jacket have a glittery gold embroidery design shaped like a crown and there's a matching necklace resting around his shoulders, twinkling alluringly under the dim lights. His snug black jeans and heeled boots nearly have me on the floor. Pardon my French but—step on me please? 

I gulp, sitting back in my seat while Baekhyun commands the stage. He has the whole crowd wrapped around his finger with every charming smile and deep chuckle he sends our way. I graciously accept a glass of wine from a waiter and cross my legs, too busy admiring him to listen to a word he says. It's been a while since I've had the pleasure to see this kind of view.

Baekhyun continues to speak to the crowd, coaxing adoring 'ah's' and the occasional applause. I lose my sense of time the longer he gives his speech, idly swirling my drink around my glass. I've barely drank half of it by the time the event starts coming to an end.

"Everyone." Baekhyun's voice rings over the murmuring crowd, clasping his hands together over the microphone, a soft smile playing at his lips. "If I can have a moment of your time, I'd like to say a few things before we wrap up."

My eyes widen to the size of saucers when he says my name, holding a hand out for me to take. I look around, narrowing my eyes at Mrs. Park's smiling figure. The wink she sends my way tells me everything that I need to know.

Everyone else in the crowd starts looking around, some of them settling their eyes onto me. I take a final sip of my wine and slowly set my glass down in the cup holder next to me. With one last breath and a weary glance, I approach the stage, the clicks of my heels echoing around the room.

The closer I get to Baekhyun's beaming face, the more my heart pounds, butterflies erupting in my stomach. But the moment my cold hand is securely in his, all of it fades away. With Baekhyun, I know I am safe.

He smiles, looking me over with affection shining in his eyes. "Everyone, meet my girlfriend." He announces into the microphone, softly squeezing my hand and facing the crowd again. "She didn't expect to be here tonight..." He trails off, smiling sheepishly. "I'll probably be getting an earful later." He chuckles, joining everyone in their brief laughter while I shoot him a look that screams 'you're damn right.' "But for now," He continues, settling his sparkly brown eyes back onto me, "I have something important to say."

Baekhyun takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. "If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be standing here today." He squeezes my hand again, flickering his eyes back open to stare into mine. The warmth and undeniable love swirling within them sends my heart into overdrive. "If it wasn't for her patience, care and timeless, endless bounds of love." He sighs softly, smiling so sweetly while wrapping an arm around my waist before turning us both to the second set of curtains. "I wouldn't be here to present the newest clothing line."

The curtains go up and my jaw drops at the sight.

A huge glass container stands in the middle of the stage, showcasing mannequins wearing various articles of clothing. Soft looking blue sweaters, comfy jogging pants, black leggings with white embroidery flowers on the ends, and short jean shorts. There are over a dozen different clothes on display with the letter 'R' scripted on the front in beautiful cursive, but what really captures my attention is the red dress. Front and center. 

The backless, sleeveless burgundy mermaid dress covered in sparkly jewels from start to finish, twinkling prettily under the dim lights while spun around on its high-rise platform.

"This goes out to Riley." Baekhyun hugs me close, making me grateful that I'm facing away from the crowd when tears spring to my eyes. He smiles shyly while gazing at me with those warm brown eyes. "The woman of my dreams and love of my life."

I stare right back into those deep brown pools of love, biting the inside of my cheek to keep my chin from wobbling. Not able to take it anymore, I cup his glowy cheeks in my hands, pressing my lips to his.

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1)  P(2) | Part 6 P(1)  P(2) —– P(3)  P(4) —– P(5)  P(6) | ♬♩♪♩ FINALE P(1)✓  P(2)

A/N: This was a mouthful, don’t mind me, I’m formatting the other 9k 😭💗

[imaginingmanyfandoms]

summary: a chance encounter puts Fiona Tanner in the sights of the Cullen family. Emmett takes an immediate liking to her, but Edward thinks she's a threat to the family. No Emmett x Rosalie. warnings: kidnapping, ooc behaviour? words: 4kish

FIONA TANNER SEATTLE, DAY 1

From the moment her boots hit the cement on the busy Seattle sidewalk, the search was on. Holding tightly to the handle of her suitcase she tried to get her bearings. Fiona Tanner’s sister had been missing for months. The cops had nothing, and they weren’t taking any of Fiona’s advice.

“Let us do our jobs, ma’am. We’ll find your sister…” had not so slowly turned into “we can’t find someone that doesn’t want to be found.” Insinuating that her sister had run away with some boy, over the fact that the cops simply hadn’t done a good enough job. Bree was a troubled kid, who left home in a hurry before she’d turned fifteen. But she always stayed in contact with Fiona. Little messages from burner phones to let her sister know that she was okay.

A person could only drag their sister back just to watch her run away again so many times before they needed an alternative solution.

Like she was going to just sit around and hope that they were right. She was an extra set of eyes and ears. There was nothing that could stand between her, and finding her sister. At the very least she was going to get the truth.

Besides, she knew for a fact that her sister was dead.

The bus dropped Fiona off in front of an old diner. It looked out of place next to two modern buildings, but the charm of it drew her in. The ladies inside were friendly, offering her a table and some coffee. She ordered a burger with fries and a root beer. While the waitress withdrew to the kitchen, Fiona pulled out a map of the city that she had started using as her guide to remember everything. The map and a small notebook she’d bought at the dollar store.

The map had a small blue X over a bookstore just a few blocks over, which was her first stop after getting some lunch. Now seemed like the best time to take stock of everything she knew so far.

Bree’s friends had no idea where she was. But they weren’t the brightest bunch, and not really the trustworthy type either.

Another boy from the area had gone missing recently as well. Riley Biers, last seen in May, 2010. He went missing near Pike Place Market.

Bree wouldn’t ever just run away with someone without telling her. She was in trouble.

And that was it. That was all Fiona knew.

But the family couldn’t just move on. Bree had looked exactly like Fiona did at her age. It became a curse when her own parents would struggle to look into her eyes, preferring to stare into their glass whenever she entered the room. It was like that a year ago, but when she had to tell her parents that she’d been talking to Bree, and hadn’t told them…

Being away from them wasn’t the worst thing right now.

It wasn’t something she wanted to think about at that moment. Her concentration needed to be on her investigation.

“Here ya go,” the waitress said, setting down the plate of food. Fiona smiled, and slid her map out of the way. She was starving.

She picked up a fry and brought it to her mouth, but suddenly felt… wrong. There was a weird feeling in her mind. Like someone was watching. No, not watching. Listening.

Then clear as day she heard it. This tiny little nagging voice that had started harassing her a few weeks ago. It sounded just like her sister, except this voice was deeper, raspy like she was dying of thirst.

Run, Fiona.

She put the fry back and grabbed a twenty from her wallet, strolling up to the counter to pay and get a to go container. Fiona kept her cool, but kept her defences up.

Don’t think about me.

Fiona looked around the diner. There were two teens taking pictures of their milkshakes and giggling. Then there was a couple. A girl and an Abercrombie model. Only one plate of food between them.

As if on cue, the boy picked up one of her fries and put it in his mouth. But Fiona didn’t miss the confused look on the girls’ face when he did it. He whispered something under his breath that made the girl look down, her hair making a waterfall to block out her face. But it didn’t matter, Fiona had his face painted in her memories.

I said, run!

The voice was annoying. But the scary thing to Fiona, was that she could hear dead people. Kind of like a medium, but she suppressed it. Pushed it down, down, down until it was suffocated. Bree, however, always knew how to get under Fiona’s skin.

Please, Fiona thought, just tell me what happened.

I told you, it’s not safe. Go home!

“Lady?” said the waitress, holding out the change to her. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Fiona said, putting her phoney smile back on. “Sorry, keep the change.” She took her to go box to the table and threw the fries in it, and everything else she owned back in her bag. She flipped it over one shoulder gracefully and grabbed her burger, taking a big bite of it. She looked back at the couple, but caught his narrowed eyes staring at her.

He was the one listening. She tried to immediately cover her thoughts by thinking the alphabet as loud as possible, but she could read from the look on his face that it was too late.

You’re going to get hurt. Bree had been fighting Fiona every step of the way. Putting fake clues in her mind, trying to push out clues that were helpful…

It was annoying.

C’mon Bree, Fiona thought. Gimme a clue.

How about a hint?

Yes, Bree! Please give me a hint.

Okay, go home. That’s your hint. Goodnight.

Goodnight, yourself. It’s not even dark out.

FIONA TANNER SEATTLE, DAY 2

Wake up!! Bree was shouting. It was frantic, unlike anything Fiona had ever heard before. Please, Fiona, please, wake up!! Someone is in the bathroom!

In a second, all of the grogginess was wiped away. Fiona sat up quickly, pulling the blankets to her chest. She had triple, quadruple checked that the door was locked before bed. And she could see that it was still locked now. How could someone have…

I think… they’re leaving.

How?? Fiona was starting to shake. There’s no window in there.

Then something in the air shifted. And the only reason she knew something was different was the tiny breeze she felt on her face, and the fact that the door wasn’t locked anymore.

Who was in here, Bree?

I’m not telling.

But you know?

No.

Liar.

Fiona rubbed her temples. Bree’s yelling had given her a headache. To make things worse, Bree was loudly singing, “go hoooooome” over and over. Fiona got up, changed out of her pyjamas into jeans and a white tee. And pulled her boots on. She has at the edge of the bed for a minute, her head in her hands as she took some deep breaths.

Fiona looked out the window, and noticed something bizarre. There was a girl, standing stiff as a board. And Bree went radio silent.

Know that girl?

When Bree didn’t answer, Fiona dropped down, hiding herself out of view. Holy shit! Do you actually know that girl?

Fiona was getting tired of this. If Bree wasn’t going to talk, someone else was going to. With reckless abandon, she threw open the door and stomped across the parking lot, not really caring that this girl was starring at her.

“Do you know Bree Tanner?” Fiona asked loudly, before she was even close to the girl.

Shut up! Shut up! You have no idea what you’re starting!

“Excuse me?” said the girl. She was impossibly beautiful. The kind of beautiful that wasn’t even fair for the rest of the world.

“My sister is Bree Tanner, and I think she knows you.”

“And how could you know that?”

“She told me.”

“I doubt that.”

“Why? Because she’s dead?”

The girl shut up after that. Fiona was getting sick and tired of no one answering her questions. She knew she was playing with fire, but she didn’t care. If this girl was some drug dealer who got Bree killed, she was going to find out. And she wanted to find out today, right now.

“I don’t care what shit you’re in with the police, I just want to know what happened to her.”

Shut. Up! Or you’ll be dead like me.

The girl didn’t speak again. “Do you know the boy who listens?”

The next five seconds went faster than she could have possibly believed. She was suddenly in complete darkness. With all her belongings beside her. In a small, tight space. Where was she? What happened.

You’re in a TRUNK, dumbass, you just got kidnapped.

Well that, was bad news for Fiona. She wanted to scream but her mouth was covered. She wanted to fight but her hands were tied. How did that happen? How did she miss her own kidnapping?

The boy who could listen was here. Probably in the car. She could feel him in there.

“How could she know this much?” The beautiful girl asked. Fiona had no idea why, but she could hear them in her head. In her mind.

“Be quiet,” he said sharply.

Silence.

“She can hear us,” he said. “I can’t… I can’t look in her mind, I’m just hearing my words echoed back, louder than her thoughts. I think she’s burying them.”

Instead of burying them, she turned it around. Played it loud like shouting into a megaphone. Did you do this to Bree, too? And then she projected Bree’s image. She closed her eyes and tried to push every detail of her sister’s face into his mind. But, he edited it. Saw it the way he saw it, with bright red eyes. She felt the car swerve violently and she cracked her arm as she rolled onto it. It hurt so badly. She hoped it wasn’t broken but the way her fingers stopped responding to her made her worried.

“Knock it off!” he shouted.

“What?” His passenger asked. Don’t be rude, she thought.

Not you, Rosalie. Did the listening boy think that?

It was getting too confusing for her to keep all these voices straight. Rosalie was sitting with the boy who listens. She didn’t know his name. It made no sense, how could she hear them? She could only ever hear the dead, but this wasn’t the same. Bree sounded like she was in the middle of Fiona’s brain, but the other two… they sounded like Fiona was listening to them from a couple feet away. They were on the outside, and Bree was on the inside.

Please, Bree begged, I don’t know how to help you now.

It didn’t matter. Fiona passed out.

EMMETT CULLEN FORKS, DAY 1

Emmett hated when the family went into crisis mode. Jasper didn’t want to play chess because he was too busy fretting over Alice. Edward was having four panic attacks a day thinking that these “loose ends” were going to get Bella killed. And Carlisle and Esme were making Plan B arrangements in case they had to move, which is what everyone kept saying. No one was brave enough to say in case we have to kill her.

He heard Edward and Rosalie driving over the speed limit. Faster than ever, maybe. And he was excited to at least see some kind of action around here. Ever since he got to the house everyone has treated him like he’s stupid. Which he was not.

“Jasper!” Emmett called, beaming up the stairs. “They’re coming!”

“Yes, thank you Emmett. I hear them too.” Jasper spoke normally. Knowing Emmett could hear him through the walls.

Edward skidded his car to a quick stop in front of the house. Emmett happily joined Carlisle and Esme on the front lawn. They had all agreed to greet their guest and try to explain things as civilly as possible. Edward and Rosalie were supposed to go get her, invite her on a tour around town and then invite her for a dinner. Emmett was excited to make a friend, and also excited to watch his family force down a pizza. They all got so miserable after eating human food.

“Oh dear,” Esme said.

Emmett didn’t understand what the big deal was. Edward was out of the car, talking to Bella on the phone. The wedding was still a ways away, this was only supposed to be a minor inconvenience. Rosalie had run off into the woods before even greeting anyone. She hadn’t been coping well lately and hadn’t spent much time talking to anyone. Not that she was very friendly on a regular basis.

Only then did Emmett notice that the car door was open, but he could tell the heartbeat he heard and the blood he smelled was behind a wall of metal. She wasn’t in the backseat. They put her in the trunk?

Seemed a little rude.

The girl was bleeding back there too. Probably why Rosalie had to run. He couldn’t blame her, this girl smelled so good. She smelled like joy would taste.

“Pop the trunk!” Emmett said, laughing at Edward’s constipated expression.

“Emmett,” Carlisle whispered. His dad didn’t want to make a joke out of this. “Edward, please.”

Edward didn’t get off his phone call but clicked open the trunk with his keys. Emmett and Carlisle ran over to examine the damage.

As soon as Emmett saw her, he was smitten. Absolutely smitten. She was so pretty. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Short black hair, round little face with the pinkest lips in the world. And they looked like they would be so fun to kiss. Emmett was aware his brother wasn’t answering Bella, and instead was staring at Emmett, but he didn’t care though. He could see the relation to Bree in her features, but she was definitely older.

“Her arm is broken,” he said. “I’ll bring her to my office and set it, and cast it.”

Esme coughed for a moment, briefly distracted by the pooling of blood in the trunk of Edward’s Volvo. “Need anything from your office, dear?”

Emmett could see the appreciation on Carlisle’s face. Emmett wanted love like these two had. Or like Alice and Jasper. Or Edward and Bella. Or Rosalie and her reflection. Carlisle gave her a short list of things he would need to cast her arm, he was only missing a few things that he had used before they came back to town.

Carlisle reached to pick her up, but Emmett swatted his hands away quickly. Not harshly, as it wasn’t meant to hurt Carlisle. But Emmett had to do it himself. He had to be the one to carry this girl. It didn’t matter what Edward wanted. No one was going to hurt her. Edward doesn’t get to always have everything his way.

“What’s her name again?” Emmett asked, his voice more gentle than they’s ever heard it as he gingerly picked her up.

“Fiona.” Carlisle watched Emmett’s every move.

“Fiona,” Emmett repeated quietly.

He didn’t want her to wake up, so he walked slowly through the house. Setting her down on the space Carlisle made on the desk. The blood didn’t bother Emmett for even a moment. He never even hesitated. He just brushed the hair off her face, and waited while Carlisle worked.

“You seem to have taken to this girl.”

“I just think she’s pretty,” Emmett said. “It’s not her fault about her sister. If one of us went missing, would you not stop at nothing to get us back?”

“You’re right about that.” Carlisle looked pained. “May I ask you something, Emmett?”

“Yeah, of course.” Emmett didn’t look up from the girl’s face, and instead dragged his fingers softly around the edge of her face. Maybe she would be his Bella.

Was it creepy to be thinking this before she had a chance to wake up and meet him? He can’t just claim her, only hope that she was as fascinated by him.

Edward came through the door before Carlisle could ask about what Emmett was thinking. Edward was clearly mad. Esme slipped in, giving Carlisle the things he asked for, but opted to slip out and remove herself from the blood. Emmett understood, Fiona smelled as tempting as a fresh apple pie.

“Why is she untied?” he asked, grabbed the abandoned tie off the ground. It was all he’d had to tie her up with at the time.

“Do you think she needs to be?” Carlisle asks.

“Yes, I do.” Edward crossed his arms. Emmett was getting irritated by the vibe in the room. It was bad vibes in here.

“No, Edward.” Carlisle kept working. “We don’t hold hostages.”

“You’re right, we should just kill her now,” he said, cooly. As if it wasn’t a person they were talking about. Carlisle paused, but continued.

Emmett stood up tall, puffing his chest out and blocking Edward’s view of Fiona.

“You’re not touching her,” he said.

“Are you going to stop me, Emmett?” Edward asked. “You don’t even know her.”

“I know that I’m not a danger to her,” he said. “And you are. So get out while Carlisle works.”

“You’ve lost your…” Edward trailed off, and dropped to his knees clutching his head. Emmett stooped down on one knee, immediately changing from being worried about this girl to worried about his brother. “It’s her.”

Fiona was stirring awake, Carlisle finishing and clearing himself just in time for her to start squirming.

“Oh my god, her thoughts - there’s so many…” Edward tried to clear a path, try to sort between her thoughts and the thoughts of others’ that lived in her mind. “They’re not hers.”

“STOP!” she shouted, sitting perfectly up. “My sister doesn’t know the truth, she’s no danger to the secret.”

“Fiona?” Carlisle asked. Everyone was totally stunned. The girl looked lifeless behind her eyes, like this wasn’t her but a cheap replication of her. Other than sitting up, her limbs were still and lifeless, no sign of pain or distress.

“Bree.”

“Bree?” Esme said, slipping in the door. “Bree is it really you?” Esme fluttered over, putting her hands on the girls’ face. She was close to tears. “I’m so sorry.” Esme had been feeling guilty over Bree everyday since it had happened.

“Esme,” Carlisle said softly. He didn’t want to silence his wife, but he didn’t know how much time they had to talk to her.

“She doesn’t know what really happened. You still have time to lie. Don’t kill her.”

“Don’t worry little buddy,” Emmett said. “No one is going to hurt Fiona.”

“Remains to be seen,” Edward muttered.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Sounds like family meeting time,” Esme said. “I’ll go find the others.” She slipped outside the office.

“I don’t understand,” Fiona said, her eyes focused. Her voice settled. It was her now. There was life in her eyes, but also fear, and she touched the cast on her arm. Even her voice was beautiful. Is this how the dogs feel? Emmett had never felt stronger than right now. Emmett didn’t move towards her for fear of startling her, she was so small.

“She can’t stay up here alone,” Edward said.

“I trust Carlisle to speak for me,” Emmett said, looking at Fiona. She was frightened, but brave. Trying to establish her surroundings. “I’m not going to let you hurt her no matter what you say anyway.”

“You’re risking everything,” Edward said. “For someone you don’t even know.”

“Sound familiar?” Emmett asked, scoffing. “I always had your back, even when I didn’t get it.”

Edward flashed a look of guilt but shook it off. Emmett knew they couldn’t keep taking risks like this, but she wasn’t a risk, she was a person. As fast as he’s ever run, Emmett grabbed her things from the car, and dropped them right at her feet. She was shaking, clearly terrified.

“How did you do that?”

“Your phone is in there, I checked.” Emmett heard his family go silent. The conversation was a waste of time anyway, it was just Carlisle trying to convince Edward that there were more options than murder. “I won’t stop you from calling 911. We are the Cullens, you’re in Forks. I’ll even give you the number for Chief-”

“Emmett!” Rosalie yelled. But Emmett got to the door first. Holding it shut from Rosalie’s destructive fists. It cracked and splintered under her heavy hits. “If we have to start over you are so dead.”

FIONA TANNER FORKS, DAY 1

Fiona was crying now. Confused by all the thoughts in her head. She could hear the whole family. Pieces of the conversation downstairs. She could hear the listener getting mad. He didn’t like his own thoughts being repeated back to him but she couldn’t help that. There was also the typical voices that she usually had buried, but coming out of whatever happened to her allowed them to flood in. People screaming in pain, or begging for help, or just taunting her for the fun of it. What did the boy who listens make of her?

“I’m not calling the police,” she whispered. “I just want to know what happened to Bree.”

Rosalie stopped busting the door at Carlisle’s request. But each of her exaggerated stomps could be heard as she left the house. She turned on music in the garage and started fussing with her cars. Emmett just looked at her, welcoming her to make the first move.

“You’re Emmett?”

“Yes.” For his huge stature, he seemed so kind and timid to her. She could hear him thinking about her. And it was so, so flattering.

“Are you dead?”

“Yes.”

“Then how are you alive?”

“I don’t know if I should answer that right now,” he said. “Let’s skip for now.”

“Was Bree dead?”

“I thought you already knew she was dead.” Emmett looked down. “I’m really sorry about that.”

“I meant… uhm… when you met her, for the first time, was she already dead?”

“Yes.”

“Explains why I can hear you twice.” She needed a minute to process all of this. How was she supposed to process all of this?

“Can you hear me think?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Oh,” he said, lowering his head. “That’s kind of embarrassing.”

Fiona smiled, and chuckled. Which made Emmett smile and chuckle. It was quiet in the room for a minute. Fiona tried to sort out her thoughts and Emmett watched her.

“I really don’t want to cause any trouble for your family,” she said. “Can you just tell me what happened to my sister?”

“No one here hurt her,” Emmett said. “We were trying to save her but there are some people who just… get their way.”

“Why did they want to hurt her?”

“Can I skip?” he asked.

She nodded lightly. His vague answers were disappointing but he seemed genuine, and it was probably a “the less you know the better” kind of deal around here. Maybe she should’ve listened to Bree.

You think? Bree thought. She sounded weak after taking control of of Fiona.

“Am I going to die, Emmett?” she asked, her voice wavering.

“No, I’ve got you now. You’ll be safe with me.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

[godofplumsandthunder]

Twisted Fate

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Cancer, both Bucky and reader have cancer, Major Character death, brief hospital terms mainly reffering to cancer treatment. References to amputation.

A/N: This was written for the lovely @eurynome827​ 2k celebration. I got a lovely quote of lyrics from Hadestown, which I wanted to do something that was based off of the musical, but I couldn’t figure anything out. Then I had a big anniversary come up and this was came out instead. It’s very angsty, I cried a lot, and well I hope you like it.

The low, steady hum of the fan fills the awkward silence. The psychiatrist, newly assigned to the case, still doesn’t feel comfortable. “Case number 32557038” was widely known in the health care center. The whispers and rumors floated their way down the hall, past the copy machine, filling the office with this chilling tale. Some regarded it as a terrible series of bad luck, others thought it was an act of some benevolent God, pouring his rage on this poor couple. Dr. Breynord, after reading the notes on the file, Breynord knew that this case was perhaps the worst case of bad luck she ever saw in her career, and, maybe it was her stubbornness or naive belief in medicine, but Dr. Breynord was going to help this poor man get the peace he so desperately needs.

“James,” Dr. Breynord’s voice breaks the silence of the office, “I’ve read what my colleagues had to say about your case, but, I’d like you to tell me what has happened if you feel comfortable.”

Shifting in his seat, James sighs, with a small nod of the head, he starts at the beginning.

Bucky Barnes was used to change. Granted, it was other people’s change, but it was still change nonetheless. The poor folks that sat next to him each clinic visit changed, his caretakers changed, it seemed as if the whole world changed around him, while he was stuck in some perpetual hell. Every day dragged out in the same dull, and nauseating feeling, and at times, Bucky felt he was in an endless loop, forsaken by some deity he didn’t believe in. But, for however long Bucky has left in this fallen and cruel world, he’ll remember when you walked in, shattering the miserable purgatory he was banished to, he’ll always remember the day you changed his life.

It happened during his first transfusion session after his surgery. His arm, still wrapped in bandage, IV tubing leading straight to his heart, pumped his body full of liquids, as he waited for the toxic poison to enter his body. He always found it ironic, the “medicine” that was supposed to save his life, that was too dangerous for the nurses to touch with their bare hands, was willingly flushed into his body. Hair loss, mouth sores, and muscle aches were the better side effects. He can’t help but think about what is coming, especially as he sees his nurse, Thor, come over with the freshly made batch of poison [STRIKE THROUGH], chemotherapy as his doctor would want him to call it. Hanging the bag on his IV pole, Thor looks over at Bucky, giving him the “I’m going to go on a rant about something you should care about” look. 

“Now James, we’re getting a new patient today. It’s their first transfusion. They’re going to be sitting in the pod next to you. I swear to the gods, I best not hear another complaint about your attitude.”

“Me? An attitude? No, I think you got me confused with someone else. I’m the brightest little ball of sunshine here!” Bucky can’t help but chuckle. It’s not his fault he wasn’t a “warrior”, blasting “Fight Song” 24/7, as he sips on a kale smoothie with coffee suppositories shoved up his ass. T

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Barnes,” Thor shakes his head as he cleans up his station, “don’t think I won’t throw your bald ass out of here. That cancer sob story, won’t work on me.” 

Bucky goes back to his phone, already feeling the effects of the chemo. No matter how many anti-nausea meds they fed him, Cisplatin always makes him sick. So, he had the right to act like a grumpy old grandpa. While he scrolls through his social media feed, seeing all the accomplishments, brags, and just shit of his friends, Bucky hears your sniffles, as you make your way down to the end of the Oncology clinic, taking a seat next to Bucky. Even if Thor hadn’t given him the heads up, he would have known you were fresh meat. One infusion, his mom asked him how he could tell. It was easy for Bucky, it all had to do with the eyes. A cancer diagnosis shatters you. It kills all hope, light, and goodness that’s in you. You turn completely numb to the world, to the point where your own wailing and sobs feel muted. Bucky saw all of that in your eyes. Behind the puffy, redness, saw the shards of hope, the fear of the unknown. Before you could reach your seat, you stumble, spilling your possessions that you carried all over the floor. Bucky watches quietly as you quickly pick up your items, collapsing into the chair next to him. 

“Sorry I couldn’t give you a hand, only have the one,” he wiggles his stump, and he's met with silence. Talk about a rough crowd, he thinks, his nephews love his stumpy jokes. “So,” Bucky continues, “what are you in for? I’m a sarcoma, in the arm.” You sniffle as you turn your body to look at this new man.

“Leukemia,” you confess, voice barely above a whisper. It takes a real effort to say it out loud because then it makes all of this real.

“That’s good then,” the “sarcoma” man says to you, and Bucky can see the confusion, and pain on your face.

“How is that good? How is cancer good?”

Using his arm, Bucky points around the room, giving you a tour of the room.

“See him, that’s Riley, he has an inoperable brain tumor. That young kid, with the Switch? His name is Peter, his body is chemo resistant. So yeah, leukemia is good. If you haven’t learned it yet, not all cancers are made equal.”

“Oh,” you barely make out. What were you supposed to say to that? 

=====

Much to Bucky’s surprise, he actually enjoyed having your company. Your treatments lined up and so you both got to know each other well. Bucky enjoyed having someone close to his age that understood his problems. And it also didn’t hurt that you had such a great personality, you got Bucky’s dark humor (and it went without saying that you understood it was his way of coping), and you looked great. Not many people can rock a bald head. And Bucky has seen his fair share, and he can say with confidence, you rocked it. Not covering it up with caps, scarves, or wigs. Because why should you hide away? For the first time since his diagnosis, Bucky had a purpose. So, while his immune system allowed him to leave the house, he picked up a bouquet of fake flowers (neutropenia life, am I right?) and a box of chocolates to take with him to the next transfusion. When he got to the clinic, Bucky was a bit worried to see that you weren’t next to him. Instead, there sat Barb, 75 years old with breast cancer. 

“Oh sweetie, are those for me?” Barb looks at the flowers in Bucky’s hand. 

“No!” He snaps, as closes the curtain that surrounds his chair. He hears some huffs and complaints from Barb, but frankly, he doesn’t give a damn. Bucky only has one thing on his mind: you. 

“Are you alright? You’re not here at Club Med” Bucky texts as quickly as his one hand would let him. Dropping his phone, Bucky stares at it all while the nurses prep him. And because of damn, HIPAA, none of the nurses can tell him where you’re at. Minutes turn into hours, and by the time Bucky’s infusion ends, you still haven’t responded to him or shown up at the clinic. 

“Hope you’re okay. Call or text me. I'm worried” Bucky sighs, realizing how much you made his chemo treatments more bearable. How your laugh could make him forget of the poison he had to take, or how the light in your eyes could make him forget, even just for a bit, how much his arm stump was hurting. You were a drug, more potent than any he’s had before, and Bucky was becoming addicted. He’s picking at the hamburger he got for dinner, not having much of an appetite when his phone goes off. Seeing it’s from you, he rushes to answer. 

“Y/N! I… Where were you? I missed you today. I had to sit by Barb and…” The sounds of your cries cut Bucky off. 

“Are you okay?”

“No, Buck. I… Got some bad news today.” 

“Where are you?” He asks. He knows you’re alone, and speaking from experience, you never want to be alone when you get bad news. He knows from experience.

“Buck…” you sigh, “It’s fine. Really.” 

“Please, Y/N, I know what it’s like to be alone after getting this kind of news. Please, let me be there for you.” Breaking further down into tears, you cry at Bucky’s actions, actions of love. 

“I’ll send you my address,” Bucky gathers the flowers and chocolates as he rushes to your apartment, breaking a few traffic laws to get there faster. When he gets there, the image of you, opening the door, eyes swollen from crying breaks his heart. 

“Oh, Y/N,” Bucky sweeps you into his arm, as he closes the door behind, “tell me what’s going on hun.” 

You both sit on the couch, the bag with the flowers and chocolate lay at your feet, as you stay in Bucky’s embrace. 

“I’m… I’m dying Buck!” You manage to say in-between odds. “Dr. Fair... gave me three months to live. There’s nothing else they can do.” You break down in his arms, that last straw finally breaking, as you tell your newfound best friend, the person you were supposed to beat cancer with. Bucky tries his best to remain strong, to be the rock, the foundation you need, but you’re not the only one that is losing a friend. You sit in each other's embrace, as you mourn. You cry for all the missed opportunities, laughs, and memories that won’t be made. 

“What am I going to do,” you whisper, your voice hoarse from crying. 

Kissing your head, Bucky pulls you in closer, “we, are going to make these three months, the best three months you’ve ever had.”

Bucky lives up to his promise, spending every hour he isn’t in the hospital with you. The time you spent together changed your relationship. Neither had to officially say the words to make your relationship official. It was just you, and Bucky. Holding each other close, as the tempest waged on, trying to beat you into submission. You go on walks in the park, picnics, and one night when you both had the energy, went skinny dipping. Your logic being, what are the cops going to do? Arrest two cancer patients, with one of them being terminal? You threw caution to the wind and simply lived. Lived, breathed, and loved. Things seemed to be perfect until reality hit.

Your body wasn’t keeping up. Your cancer was spreading faster than they predicted. The doctors couldn’t give you an explanation as to why the cancer was spreading so fast. It shouldn’t have been. Soon, home hospice came, to try to make you more comfortable. And like the good partner he was, Bucky spent every minute by your side. That’s why, when you felt the inevitable coming, you felt your body give in to the tiredness of fighting, you grab Bucky’s hand. 

“I love you, James Bucky Barnes,” you weakly say, giving him one last affirmation, as you went to sleep, for one last time. 

As Bucky wakes up from his nap, feeling your cold body, he tries to ruse you back awake. Once he realizes what has happened, the last bit of humanity inside of Bucky snapped. He lets out a blood-curdling scream, as tears stream down his face. He strikes your face, pleas escape his mouth. Pleas to you, to a God he has long stopped believing in. His body shakes, his tears wetting your hair, as he holds you for one last time. 

=====

“Oh James,” Dr. Breynord grabs herself a tissue before handing Bucky the box of tissues. “I truly am so sorry to hear that. I want you to know that I am here to help you get happy again, and to heal.”

Bucky sighs and turns away from the doctor as he wipes his eyes. “You’re just like the rest of them. You didn’t listen to me.” 

Breynord was surprised that this was Bucky’s complaint. The other doctors had warned her that Bucky could be sarcastic, standoff-ish, and even flat-out rude to them. Breynord thought she did a good job listening to his story, what did she miss.

“I… I don’t think I understand what you mean, James.”

Bucky lets out a heartless, empty laugh, “you want me to be happy again. I’m never going to be. Not only do I have to live with the guilt of surviving, when she died, in my arms, but I’ll also never find another soul like hers. We had a connection, you know. It felt like we met before. When I held her in my arm, and her arms would wrap around me, it felt like I had the whole world in my arms. I didn’t need anything else when I had Y/N.” 

“So tell me doc, what’s the point of carrying on?”

[argylemnwrites]

Fight or Flight - Chapter 16: Rock

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Heir (canon divergent from the end of book 2)

Word Count: ~3600

Rating: R (language only)

Summary: Almost four weeks since The Walker Absconding

Author’s Note: This series follows the Walkers, their friends, and Cordonia as a whole after they flee the country with their daughter during Barthelemy Beaumont’s attempted coup. To catch up on this series, check out it’s masterlist. (link can be found via my bio - sorry, Tumblr is once again not putting my posts with links in tag searches)

The sun had basically set. Bridget was now sound asleep in her car seat. She hadn’t made a noise since Riley had climbed into the back to feed her about two hours ago. He knew Riley herself had to be starving. They had been on the road for about four hours. Yet, Drake was reluctant to stop.

He knew that they had probably gotten away. Barely. It didn’t seem like anyone was following them. Their little jaunt through Tripoli should have lost anyone who might have been able to follow them out of Athens onto A8 and then onto A7. And after they doubled back and began heading northwest on EO111, they started passing through some very rural areas where no one would be able to follow them without being spotted. All signs pointed to them being safe for the moment.

Drake knew all of this, but the thought of stopping the car, of not just keeping going, still seemed so foolish. He knew this was dumb. It was getting dark. They were in the middle of nowhere. The car didn’t have an unlimited supply of gasoline. But he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He didn’t want to turn his family into sitting ducks.

So he just kept driving, moving forward. It was all there was left to do, really. Plus, it gave him something to focus on that wasn’t how bad things had gotten. How much he had failed everyone.

He didn’t have all the details, but the news stations had given him enough to know that Riley and Leo’s little meet up was how they’d been located. He had known that relying on Leo was a mistake. He’d fucking known it in his gut. But he’d agreed to the plan. Let Riley go out and take that risk with a man who had a weakness for gambling and beautiful women, and now it had all backfired. He should have told Olivia ‘no’ when she suggested it. Leo could never handle any real responsibilities. He’d run from them his whole life, and Drake had agreed to trust him with his family’s fragile safety and security. All of it now blown to fucking pieces.

And as if that wasn’t bad enough, Liam was going to be implicated in the whole mess. Based on the text Riley got from Hana, they were all getting rid of their burners, but the fact that Leo was known to have been in contact with them meant that people would assume that he was serving as a proxy for his brother. Liam would be under investigation for sure. It would give motherfucking Barthelemy more ammunition. It was a huge blow for Liam. And Drake didn’t even have a way to apologize anymore. It felt like pouring salt onto the wounds that were at least partially his fault. They had been so desperate for money and clothing, so they’d gambled. And now everyone he loved was going to pay for it. 

“Drake.” Riley’s voice carried over from the backseat. She hadn’t bothered to climb back into the front when she was done feeding Bridget and nestling her back into her car seat, instead just staying beside her, not saying anything. Until now, at least. “We should probably think about finding a hotel, shouldn’t we?”

Drake shook his head. “We’re a bit of a story here now. It’s too risky to show our faces when the news has been talking about us. Probably displaying our pictures, too.”

“Okay, well should we find a place to camp then?”

He let out a sigh at that. Free camping wasn’t exactly legal in Greece. If they got caught, they would have to hope that the police just sent them on their way without asking for any identification to fine them or anything. But Riley had a point. He knew they couldn’t just keep driving indefinitely, and if hotels were out for the time being, chancing a night in the tent somewhere was their only other choice. At least they weren’t on the beach. If Drake had to guess, more tourists would flock to the ocean for a summer holiday, so those areas were probably watched more carefully.

“Sure, Walker. Can you try to find us a park or some place that might have some tree cover?”

And so, not twenty minutes later, Drake took a huge breath as he brought the car to a stop in a secluded area near the base of Kompovouni mountain, tucked off a side road he hoped no one would be using in the middle of the night.

“She still out?” he asked as he turned off the engine, glancing into the backseat via the rear-view mirror.

Riley looked into the car seat and nodded. “The real trick will be getting her out without waking her up.”

“You can grab her, Walker. I’ll get the tent.” Drake saw her nod again before he opened the door and climbed out of the car, heading around to the back and opening the hatch. He dug past the duffel bags and crib, tugging out the tent, the sleeping bags and pads, and the flashlight he’d stashed away all those weeks ago. He could hardly have imagined feeling worse than he did that day, but here he was, now looking back in wonder at how easy things were then compared to now. They weren’t yet wanted criminals. They had a roof over their heads. There had been hope they would be able to go home in days to weeks.

He hauled the gear further off the road, into a grove of trees that would hopefully shield them from sight if anyone decided to drive this way. It was getting darker by the second, so he shifted the equipment under his right arm so he could use the flashlight with his left. It wouldn’t do them any good for him to trip or step on a snake and injure himself. A first aid kit was not something he had thought to purchase back when he first stocked up.

He heard Riley’s footsteps not far behind him, her voice murmuring something to Bridget that was too quiet for him to pick up. When he finally felt they were far enough from the road, he set down their gear, spinning around and watching Riley join him after a few moments.

Bridget was awake, unfortunately. She wasn’t screaming yet, but she was frowning as she looked around, and her lips were all scrunched up, a sure sign she was about ready to wail. 

“We gotta try and keep her quiet, Riley.”

“I know,” she hissed out, bouncing Bridget on her hip. “It’s okay, Peanut. Shhh, Mama’s here.”

Bridget started making her little crabby whiny noise, but wasn’t outright screaming, which Drake supposed was the best they could hope for given the circumstances. “Did you pack the stuffed corgi?”

Riley nodded, not taking her eyes off Bridget and keeping her voice quiet and soothing. “I’m pretty sure it’s in one of the duffels. If not, her lovie is in the diaper bag.”

“Alright, I’ll go grab more of our shit, then. Just try and keep her from crying.”

Drake let out a sigh when he was out of earshot of his family, then swallowed roughly and took a few deep breaths as he walked back to the car. He felt like the weight and reality of today was setting in more and more by the second. Now that he wasn’t distracted by driving and navigating and translating radio reports, he felt a massive lump forming in his throat, his eyes burning as a couple of stray tears leaked out. He knew he couldn’t go down this road, though. He couldn’t afford to lose it. Not now. Riley and Bridget needed him to keep his shit together. Today had been enough of a disaster as it was.

But he had failed everyone at this point and it was hard to stay calm. It honestly felt like he could barely breathe, and he was surprised he hadn’t thrown up yet. Maybe he was just too overwhelmed. It felt like his legs were going to collapse underneath him.

By the time he reached the car, he had to brace his arms on its roof, trying to calm himself down. He couldn’t cry. This was bad enough; he couldn’t make it worse. But it all just felt like too much. So, he just focused on taking a couple of breaths, blinking his eyes repeatedly as he worked to clear the tears that kept collecting there. 

He knew he needed to get their bags and get back. He was taking way too long. Riley was going to worry and come looking for him if he stayed by the car much longer, and she shouldn’t see him like this. She was counting on him, and he’d let her down enough recently. No need to fall apart in front of her. But the more he tried to get his shit together, the closer he felt to collapsing to the ground. He was a fucking mess, useless and unstable.

By his best guess, he’d been leaning against the car, trying to regain any sense of composure, for about five minutes when he heard the crunch of her feet on the ground, getting closer and closer. He took a few more shaky breaths, trying to pull it together, but way too quickly, her hand was on his back, gently brushing between his shoulder blades.

“Drake?” she said, his name sounding far more like a question than a statement, but he didn’t know what to say. When she repeated his name, he just shook his head.

He felt her move around him, wedging herself between him and the car somehow. He tipped his head back, knowing he wouldn’t be able to take it if he saw the pity in her eyes. 

“Drake,” she repeated, this time more confidently and firmly, her hand sliding up around the back of his neck. 

He shook his head as he swallowed, trying to find his voice. “I… I just… I just need a minute, Riley.”

She didn't say anything, but she didn't move either, her hand stroking along his neck and playing with the ends of his hair. He needed her to let him get his shit together. He really did. But of course she could clearly sense how close he was to spiraling, so she was refusing to let him be. That was her MO. She could read him better than anyone, after all. What she didn't understand is that her support was going to make him lose it even more. It was bad enough that he failed Liam and his country, but now he had failed his wife and kid on top of that. He was useless. Pathetic. Hopeless. 

Eventually, he took one last shuddering breath before glancing down, taking in Riley, holding Bridget tight against her side. She must have fallen back asleep, as she was not reacting to being essentially trapped between them, something that usually triggered squirming and fussing. Instead, her head was tucked against Riley’s shoulder. Riley herself just kept running her fingers along his neck. Even in the relative darkness, he could make out her deep brown eyes, staring at him with far more compassion and tenderness than he deserved.

“I’m so sorry, Riley. This…” Drake trailed off, taking another breath before he continued, “I shouldn’t have put us in this position.”

"Drake, this isn't your fault."

"I should have known that Leo would get caught, run his goddamn mouth like-"

"We don’t know for sure that is what happened. But even if it was, we knew that was a risk when we agreed to have him be the go-between. We both knew we didn't have another choice."

He just shook his head. "I should have never put you in that position. And now we have nothing and-"

"We have each other," she interrupted, "And we have our daughter. That's more than we could say if we'd stayed." Drake swallowed, but Riley kept going. "Us being together isn't nothing. Keeping our family together isn't nothing, Drake."

"I know, Riley."

She opened her mouth, as if she was going to say more, but instead she just let out a sigh as she wound her free arm around him more tightly.

It all was suddenly too much to hold back. He tried to choke back a sob, but he felt the tears he'd been holding back for weeks start to spill over. He knew he should be keeping it together, if not in front of Riley, at least in front of Bridget. But he just couldn't, not after everything.

Riley just held him, not saying or doing anything besides keeping an arm wrapped around his shoulders. He didn't know how long they stood there, but he cried like he never remembered doing in his life. He cried for Liam and all he was facing alone in Cordonia. He cried for all that Bridget had been subjected to already in her life. He cried for Riley and the position their family was in, one that he didn't know how to fix. He cried for agreeing to name Bridget heir, for not letting Riley talk him out of it back during their honeymoon. He cried for all the horrible things that had been said about them as parents, and not just over the past few weeks. But most of all, he cried for everyone he loved and cared about that he had let down so spectacularly.

Eventually, the tears slowed, a wave embarrassment rapidly taking the place of despair. He took a half step back, tugging out of Riley's tight hold, dropping his eyes to the ground beneath his feet.

"Sorry," he muttered as he kicked at some pebbles on the ground.

"For what? You’re allowed to be upset about this, Drake."

He let out a sigh and shook his head, "Yeah, I know. But I shouldn't burden you with it. Or her."

"You aren't burdening me with anything."

"Don't give me that, Riley. You're dealing with enough-"

"What, and you aren't? Drake, we are both overwhelmed and barely hanging on, and that was before the shitshow of today."

Drake didn’t know how to respond to that. All he felt like he could do was shake his head again, but Riley wasn’t done, apparently.

“When I was a fucking mess, ready to take off without a goddamn thought or plan or strategy, you fucking held things together for all of us. And I will never stop being grateful for that. I never would have made it a week without you.”

“That’s not tru-” Drake interrupted, but Riley just kept on going, stepping closer to him again, sliding her hand against his cheek.

“But I don’t need you to hold things together round the clock for the next few months, Drake. First of all, that is a fucking impossible goal given the shit we’re gonna face. But more importantly, we’re partners in this. I don’t need you to shield me from that fact that you’re feeling a whole bunch of shit.”

He took a breath before he could speak. Somehow, he felt the threat of tears again, even after all he had already unleashed. “I promised you I would be your protector, though.”

“Drake…”

“No, Riley. I promised you that at our wedding, and now-”

“-you have always protected me. You do everything in your power to keep me safe. To keep us safe,” she amended, tilting her head towards Bridget. “But don��t you remember that I said that I would be your protector in my vows?”

Of course he remembered. That day, that memory was burned into his brain. But her assessment that he had done everything he could to keep them safe felt false. At so many points along the way he had let her down. Let both of them down. Agreeing to name Bridget heir. Not taking Liam up on the exit strategy from that whole mess. The whole Aurvernal ordeal. With all of that, he’d been an awful protector of his wife and kid.

But even as he felt those thoughts swirling in his head, he just didn’t have the energy to challenge her on this. Not now, not tonight. Not only was he exhausted from the hours of driving after a mad dash through Athens to get back to his family when Olivia had called with the worst news, but he just felt emotionally spent as well. It’s like he could feel anymore at this point, and he certainly wasn’t ready to question someone as stubborn as Riley. All he wanted to do was sleep, but that would be a ways off. The tent still had to be set up, after all. 

So he just let out a sigh and placed his hand over hers, still on his cheek, gently pulling it away as he threaded their fingers together. “Come on, Walker. Let’s just grab the rest of our stuff and set up for the night.”

They unloaded the rest of their bags, walking back to the selected campsite slowly. When they got there, Drake got to work, Riley helping as best she could without waking Bridget. He didn’t bother with the crib, knowing that Riley wasn’t going to risk waking Bridget again and chancing a crying fit by letting her out of her arms. He also suspected that Riley wasn’t going to want to be separated from Bridget after everything that went down today.

It was a slower process than he would have liked, but eventually they were done. Things were pitch dark by the time he had the tent up, the only light around coming as Riley held the flashlight for him. He supposed it was reassuring that no one had driven past.

As he moved their gear inside the tent, he wasn’t surprised when Riley started to unroll the sleeping bags as soon as he laid down the sleeping pads. What did surprise him was when she fully unzipped them and started to zip them together as one giant sleeping bag.

“Walker, there will be a gap at the bottom,” he said, crouching over one of the duffel bags and digging around to try and find some of their toiletries.

“Good thing it’s not too cold at night in the middle of August in Greece then.”

Drake twisted to look at her, so she gave him a little shrug as she sat there in the middle of the tent, Bridget still tucked against her as she futzed with the zippers. “I just… we should stick together.”

All he felt he could do was nod. He got what she was trying to tell him, the comfort she probably wanted for both of them. So, he didn’t fight her on it, just let her do her thing while he tracked down their toothbrushes and toothpaste, as well as her contact solution and glasses.

He stepped outside and dealt with his needs first, gently taking Bridget from her when she went to do the same. A few minutes later, she was crawling back into the tent and shimmying into the giant sleeping bag she created. She rolled over, reaching her arms out towards him, so he passed her Bridget, watching as she tucked their daughter in against her side, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. She glanced up at him after a few moments, her eyebrows raised above the frames of her glasses.

“Aren’t you coming to bed?”

“I think maybe I should keep watch-” Drake started, but Riley shook her head against the pillow.

“We’re both exhausted, Drake. We both need sleep so fucking badly. And let’s face it, if they find us here, it’s all over anyway.”

He couldn’t argue with a damn thing she said, so when she reached over and flipped open her crafted sleeping bag, he just slid in next to her, letting out a sigh of relief as she scooted over, settling in against him, with Bridget tucked between them.

Drake reached around to zip them in as Riley grabbed for the flashlight and flipped it off, dousing the tent in nearly complete darkness. He could just make out her eyes, staring at him as she threw an arm across his back. Things were quiet and still, the only sounds he could hear was their breathing. Bridget's little sleeping noises that almost sounded like snoring. Riley’s gentle and steady breaths. His own ragged sighs.

“We’re gonna get through this, Drake.” Riley’s statement was barely a whisper, but it felt so jarring. So loud.

“I hope so, Riley. But right-”

“No, I know we are going to get through this.”

He didn’t know how she could be so sure, have such conviction after everything had gone straight to hell. But she sounded confident, more like herself than she had in weeks. And maybe that was enough of a return to normal, or maybe his frazzled mind just wanted to cling to the thread of hope she was offering. Hell, maybe he was just too tired to care that she couldn’t actually know that as a fact. All he knew is that her words provided instant comfort, his eyes heavy as he reached over and slid a hand over her hip to her lower back, tugging her a bit closer in the process. If she said anything else after that, he had no idea, as for the first time since they’d left Cordonia, sleep came quickly and painlessly.

Perma: @walkerswhiskeygirl @octobereighth @kimmiedoo5 @mom2000aggie

TRR/TRH: @twinkleallnight @iaminlovewithtrr @mskaneko @axwalker @jovialyouthmusic @marshmallowsandfire @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @debramcg1106 @masterofbluff  

Drake/MC: @no-one-u-know  @iplaydrake

FoF: @burnsoslow @bobasheebaby​

[larsthefishoil]

Running in Circles

In hindsight he should have seen this coming. The icy wind tore at his eyes and falling snow prickled his skin as he fell. It was too much like last time. But that was what they said insanity was right? Being doomed to run in circles and repeat mistakes over and over again. He hoped it wouldn’t be a full rehash of the last story. He was certainly thrashing around less this time. Wishing he wouldn’t wake to see blood staining the clean snow as he was dragged on. But no, he was just falling for now.

```````

“Sir, with all do respect this is dumb. I think this mission is dumb and your choice in my partner is dumber. I-”

“What makes you think I give a shit Wilson?” Maria demanded “It’s not my fault you two work so well, and besides it’s just a simple shipment run, get in, get out, I don’t know why you're complaining.” Hill leaned forward over the table with spread palms and a no bullshit pull in her eyebrow. “Just take back what Hydra stole from us and we won’t assign you two together for a whole week alright?”

At that Bucky turned his head up to meet Sam’s eyes, they both knew Hill was bullshiting them again. They always made a fuss about being forced partners, but if Bucky was being honest with himself, they made a not awful team.

Maria briefed them with the rest of the plan, Sam would fly in from the vantage point, and drop Bucky off on top of the train before it passed under the mountain. From there, the two would sneak inside and take control of the train from the inside, and bring it to a stop. Later S.H.I.E.L.D would pick them up with the stolen tech.

```````

“I don’t like this one...”

“You never like missions in the cold Buckster, HA! See how well I know you? And you say I don’t listen.” Sam mumbled to himself the last part but the nickname didn’t fly over Bucky’s head by a long shot.

Bucky grit his teeth to think of a comeback and to bite away the cold. The cliff was both full of snow banks and ice depending on where you stepped. Which resulted in Sam hovering above the ground on the way up and using Bucky as a tester of when and where to step. “I don’t know Sammy,” Bucky bit back “I just don’t prefer to spend my free time in stupid ass climates.” He smiled wide and toothy at Sam squishing his eyes closed in fake excitement before pulling a deadpan look.

“Really, Sammy?”

“What? Do you want me to go with bird-y?”

“I will-”

“I see it.” Bucky started shoving his hand over Sam’s mouth going all business. He pulled the binoculares to his eyes to see the train rounding a dip in the mountain. “All right I gotta get ready to hall your lard-ass over there.” Sam started and he jumped up and started kicking his legs out to warm them up. Bucky glared up at him before going back to the train. “Are we ready yet?” Sam asked as he hopped up and down and started up his wing’s jets. Bucky shook his head “Just a few more seconds,” he said and held out his hand for good measure. “Welp, I am-” Sam started before he dove at Bucky who could only manage a helpless yelp before he was pounced on and was dragged off into the bitter cold air.

Riding with Sam holding him was the most awkward thing. Wrapping his thighs over Sam’s was way too much, and a piggyback ride may not be that bad, but the falcon wings made it impossible. And bridle style was just too ridiculous no matter how much Sam tried to convince Bucky he wouldn’t look like a moron in the air. So they came up with the solution that both kept their dignity and was efficient. Sam would always hook his arms around Bucky’s arm pits and hall him around that way. It was still awkward though.

They flew over and landed pretty safely on the train. Bucky pulled out his guns and watched from all sides as Sam picked the lock to get inside before they were hit by the mountain-tunnel.

Suddenly everything started happening at once. A trapdoor behind Bucky flapped open, and H.Y.D.R.A agents started pouring out, only for the same thing to happen on their front.

“It’s fine, this is fine!” Bucky could hear Sam yell over the wind. Sam pulled their trapdoor open only for H.Y.D.R.A agents from inside to start shooting at them. “It’s still fine! I can fix this!” Sam started again shutting the door.

This isn’t right Bucky thought. There shouldn’t be this much resistance from the intal they got. He could feel the vibration of boots stomping about behind him trying to catch their balance. Bucky let out a breath figuring Sam’s tactic of saying something was fine until it was, was just going to have to do. He turned to his six, taking a few steps, and jammes his heel in an agent's stomach. The agent fell forward before losing his balance and tumbling off. He could feel the dread creeping in on himself hating the fate that awaited the falling soul, but continued to move on. Distantly Bucky knew Sam was firing shots, taking the agents down as fast as he was. But the old memories kept creeping through, making everything feel distant even if it was just in front of him. He then heard a “NO!” be halard before Bucky could register why. He was falling. Again.

Bucky remembered flailing so much the first go around. That maybe if he wished it enough, Steve would be able to suddenly fly and catch him before he smacked against the ground. He blacked out before he hit the ground. Distantly Bucky wondered what would unfold this time. The train was gone, now it was just white. Bucky closed his eyes and let himself fall.

`````

“So… what are you doing after this?” Sam asked slowly. Bucky looked up to see Sam avoiding eye contact as he finished tying his boots, and gave the man a quizzing look. Sam was absent mindedly scuffing his boot at the dirty cemented locker room floor.

“I have no idea, what I always do I guess…why? ” Sam then had a weird look on his face with something wholly unlike him- loneliness, and uncertainty. It didn’t fit him all that well but Bucky was set on not caring about the prick.

“Nothing, I was just wondering if you wanted to help me grocery shop.”

“Wison, if you are in such dire need of friends you need to come to me, I- Should I be worried? Really who grocery shops on a Tuesday night?” he exclaimed as he placed his hands on his knees and stood up from the wooden bench. Bucky was about to go on before Sam cut him off

“I gotta buy a slice a cake for my partner.” He sped out, arms stiff and his sides and spine a steel rod. oh. yeah. the dead one. Bucky remembered Steve talking about that guy. How he reminded Steve of the two of them. Fine. He’ll indulge, but only for Steve.

“Uh sure, I don’t have anything going on, yeah okay.” There was a beat of silence between the two men before they walked for the S.H.I.E.L.D HQ in silence. No quips or bickering, just staying quiet leaving space for the sad and mourning.

The nearest grocery store was a quiet mile long walk out in the quiet of upper New York. The air was dry but heavy, with fireflies floating around them. The sidewalk was old and cracked, and Bucky tried to not step on the cracks like he used to do as a kid to pass the time. All the while Sam was uncharacteristically quiet. Bucky knew he got like this, a certain Marvin Gaye song would come on and he would stop singing along for once, he would sit down and stare into space until the song ended. Or when the two would get along for once, laughing at a joke until their stomachs hurt. Afterwards Sam would get that same lost and lonely look. Bucky often couldn’t care enough to ask, though lately it was getting harder to.

As they walked into the store, the few people who were there continued their wandering, either not caring that two Avengers just walked in or not knowing who they were entirely. Sam asked one of the workers where the bakery was and made a beeline for it. Bucky followed further behind not wanting to get in the way. Sam quickly picked up a slice of cake enclosed in a plastic container about to leave for checkout, when he stopped at another slice sitting on display. Bucky leaned over to see what Sam was looking at and found a cute slice decorated with icing flowers.

Bucky cleared his throat carefully “What’s with the flower one? Do ya want it?” He stuffed his hands in his pockets awkwardly not used to being the one with the higher word count out of the two of them.

“Na it’s just… Uh Riley hated flowers. Before we got shipped out, he went on a date with his girl and bought her these really expensive flowers. She broke up with him that night and he blamed it all on the flowers vowing to never spend that much on a girl that wasn’t his wife yet.”

“Then get him that one, it’s more meaningful than basic vanilla.” Sam sucked in a breath, threw his nose and looked up at the ceiling, no doubt willing tears away. “Or not...”

“No I’m-I’ll get that one.” Sam put the first one back and picked up the flower cake. They went to checkout right as the store was announcing it’s soon to be closing time. The two found a nice patch of sidewalk just outside of the grocery store by a tree and sat down, and with the two forks Sam snatched from the bakery area, they ate the cake. The longer they sat there the more Sam was inclined to talk. “Riley hated the smell of ginger, the taste too I guess. But who does like the taste of ginger really.” Soon half the cake was gone. “ Riley was in love with all the Kardasians, he only ever told me that he watched the show whenever he could.” Even later, only the icing flower remained. “Riley loved the color cyan, but no one ever knew what that was so he just always said green.”

“Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“How… How did you lose him?”

“He fell.” Bucky looked over at Sam at that. All this time he hadn’t really realized how crazy similar the four of them were. Sam, the new Captain America had lost his best friend the same way the first one had. Running in circles. Bucky thought.

“I’m sorry.”

“Nah, it’s not your fault.” At that Sam stuck his fork next to the icing flower and looked up at the sky again letting the tears fall this time. “All those missions and he just fell, I couldn’t catch him in time… nearly died myself. And after was… Well I got sent back home, and I had to keep helping so I started doing group therapies. Then I met Steve years later and…”

“You two shared a similar story?” Sam huffed a laugh

“Yeah we did.” The two looked at each other and smiled in comfort.

````````

Cold. White. Snow. The mission. Bucky opened his eyes and he was falling. A dark spot appeared in his vision. It was yelling on the top of it’s longs. Sam.

Suddenly Bucky’s hand was grabbed and yanked up with a concerning pop against the force of falling. Sam was still yelling, but to push against gravity this time, and Bucky was pretty sure he had a dislocated shoulder now. He lifted them up to the middle of the gap between the two mountains and pulled Bucky close to him fully wrapping his arms around Bucky’s waist. Bucky let his dislocated arm dangle and wrapped his right arm around Sam, his hand gripping his saviour’s neck, and knocked their heads together. They stayed there laughing deliriously and relieved, the train long gone along with the mission.

Sam was still breathing in heavily when he said,”I caught you.” Bucky could feel his breath puff hot against his cheeks.

“Yeah, you did man.” Bucky knocked his nose against Sam’s with his eyes still closed and slid his arm up to attach himself more to Sam.One foot was perched on top of Sam’s and the other wrapped around his leg.”Wanna get us away from the icy trench?”

“Oh shit, yeah,” With that Sam parted from Bucky to look down to the snowy depths, the weirdly clingy moment snapped in two with the comment. He then flew them to their earlier steak-out spot and plopped down exhausted in the snow. They laid there for what felt like hours, their comms down and sky going dark. Their hands were still laced together when Maria and Sharen showed up in a S.H.I.E.L.D helicopter.

A/N Alright I’m done! I feel like I did alright and that they seemed in character. Crotiques are fully invited and apperciated:)

As people might realize, they didn’t kiss and shit, and I went with that cause most of the time with slow burns, aspeshaly with friends to lovers, it’s like a spring that gets squished until the characters are just Boom! Going out and are all cuddly and fully adjusted to making out and being romantic. Which is fine, and my lonely single heart soaks that shit up like a sponge, but I want to explore a side of romance that isn’t so rushed to put the “going out” label on it. And I feel like this applies to Sam and Bucky really well, but when people are writing fanfics they rush to the romance cause that’s what it's there for. So! Just another side to see, and if I end up posting this and people want more, I will try to add more stuff if I can think of it.

I also put some characterization for Riley cause i realized that he kinda just acts as a bad frigid girlfriend for Sam, so he now has three fun facts lmao.

[sothatmyocshauntmealittleless]

No time to die - part 1/2

->part 2

author's note: so this is a piece I started writing when I got bored in a family gathering like two years ago, and I rewrote it recently. This is the first part and I haven't finished editing the rest but I estimate that there would be one or two more parts. The story is about two high school friends that meet after five years of having no contact with each other and their confrontation. Also the name is inspired by the song with the same name by Billie Eilish 'cause I was listening to it while writing a part of this and the song really suits the relationship between the characters.

~1800 words

I’m feeling a burning ache in my abdomen, and my mind is full of different scenarios that this could lead to, one worse that the other. What if I call an ambulance? I answer myself within a fraction of a second that it wouldn’t lead to pleasant things though the alternative which is bleeding to death isn’t ideal either. So just when I’ve finally convinced myself to pick up the phone and call an ambulance before I pass out, a name crosses my mind. It’s the best and the worst thing that I can do at the same time, but well sometimes your survival instincts would take over your overthinking abilities, no matter how strong they are. And despite all my hesitation, I know the number by heart.

She picks up the phone after few rings, “Hello?”, I’m a bit thrown off by how her voice is the same but her tone is different from the last time I’ve heard her, “Hi”, my voice shakes and I don’t know if it’s from the injury or hearing her voice again. “Riley? Is that you?”, somehow she could recognize me from just that one word and at least her tone is less formal now. “Yeah it’s me, listen I wanted to ask if you could come here now if you can, but it’s totally fine if you can’t make it.” Maybe it’s the shock of hearing someone from your past, or my shaky voice that she agrees to come without any other questions and I tell her my address in the calmest pace I can.

Until she arrives I spend my time overthinking on how bad of an idea it was to call her, and why would she even bother herself with my problems anymore, like who in their right mind would hurry in the middle of the night to heal someone from their past that they tried so hard to abandon. But careful knocks on the door save me from my thoughts. I open the door and for a moment think that the option of bleeding to death at least could’ve saved me from the awkwardness of this, before I manage to say “Thank you so much for coming, I really didn’t want to trouble you”, she replies “Not that I love getting surprise calls at midnight but what’s the occasion?” and then she takes a look at me with her perfect hazel eyes and sees it, the blood soaking my shirt and says “holy fuck Ri, what did… what happen- it doesn’t matter now”

It takes her only few moments to get into her other sleeve, the doctor she was trained to be, giving orders and analyzing the situation, only stopping once to curse me under her breath that I should’ve told her to bring her medical stuff and that I’m a lucky bastard that she didn’t come totally unprepared. Then her inner doctor takes charge completely. I tell myself maybe outer, you know it’s who she is now, heal first talk later that’s what she does.

“Take your shirt off”, I obey without making a snarky comment because even I can tell it would be inappropriate. I can’t really describe the process of her stitching me up, because I’ve never been a big fan of surgeries to the point I even skip them when they come up in movies, and maybe beside how pain makes everything hazy, I can’t wrap my head around the idea of her hands on me.

When it’s done she gives me some final instructions and tells me to don’t move from where I’m sitting for at least half an hour. Then standing in front of me without taking a step, she looks at her watch and her gaze lingers to the door and I know she’s thinking about leaving, but decides against it, at least for now.

“So are you gonna tell me how this happened?”, she asks gesturing towards my wound that is now stitched and bandaged. I guess I’m too exhausted for anything but the truth so I say “I was working on a case, and it didn’t end well.” She glares at me, “Well I can see that clearly, but how did it turn that way?”, “my client was a small business going to court against a big company, I had some dirty things on them but they weren’t enough proof so I was looking for more and they sent someone to scare me off I think, but um I tried to resist and it escalated quickly and I got a nice killer knife wound.” “It wasn’t fatal,” she says, “What?” I reply a bit shocked, “I said it wasn’t fatal, the knife didn’t go that deep, what? You thought I could fix a fatal cut with couple of stiches?” to that I mumble that I really trust her abilities and she rolls her eyes. I think at this point we’re past the formal greetings and small talks and now that the crisis is over she seems done with my shit so she continues “So you’ve finally fulfilled your dreams and became the woman you’ve always aspired to be, a detective/lawyer hunting down bad guys and giving them what they deserve” she doesn’t even try to hide the bitterness in her voice, and so if we’re going there now, I won’t try to hide it from mine either, “And you’ve became a doctor, a life you have dreamed of from the beginning, never even thinking to be anything else.”

She sighs and drops to the couch in front of me, “So this is the time that you’ve finally decided to talk about it.” It doesn’t sound like a question, more like a statement. Maybe being in pain and exhausted sharpens your edges and makes the things you’ve hidden carefully to snap free because I can’t hold back when I say: “Says the one who just abandoned me overnight and decided to part ways forever without even a heads up.” The thing is I’ve imagined having this conversation so many times in so many different situations, that it actually happening doesn’t feel real, it feels like another one of those fantasies in my head except she is really here now, and my pulse is betraying me by beating so damn fast.

“I didn’t abandon you, If I had you’d still be bleeding.” And a part of me wants to just accept that and move on and embrace her, because I’ve missed her, hell I’ve missed her so much I want to hug her and never let go, and we have a lot to catch up on too, five years worth of memories. Five years that we were no more than outside observers in each other's lives, but the stronger part, the part that’s been hurting ever since wants to have this conversation, needs to have this conversation or else I would never stop imagining it in my head.

“Well maybe our definition of abandonment is a bit different, ‘cause changing your life course and treating me like a stranger and pretending like all our planning and dreaming for future never happened sure as hell fits in mine.”

“I never treated you like a stranger, you were the one who decided to not talk to me and have anything to do with me anymore and cut contact completely”

“Because I couldn’t do it like that anymore, like I was just another one in your new class, as if we didn’t have history, like what we had wasn’t something more. We used to joke about how disconnected we felt from them, not because we hated them because we were different, or at least I thought you were.”

“People change Riley.”

And for a few moments neither of us backfires anything else to the other, and my mind finds time to wonder for the thousandth time why we didn’t even call each other all these years. But well one of the things that made us close at first was how stubborn we were. I remember clearly when there was a debate competition in school and we were a team and crashed the whole thing. Beside our passion for the matter we were unstoppable, to the point that each match ended to the other team being like “dear god just let it go it’s over”, and remembering those days even now in the midst of this makes me a little calmer.

I can’t help but ask, “Was it because I tried to-“ before letting me finish she says “God no, you think I could transfer in a day? And for what? Not everything is about you, or what you do or what you want, I thought five years would be enough time to learn that”, and well I’ve always known that it was a coincidence that those two things happened successively. But deep down I couldn’t shove the idea away that it was all because she wanted to get away from me, that it was my fault and I shouldn’t have done it after all. I know that doubt has led me to be selfish, and to give up on trying to fix it, and to suffer more, and I don’t know how to defend it (or if I even should). Throughout all these years I’ve also imagined getting the answer to this question countless times, and how I’ll finally be at peace if I got this answer, but now I don’t feel relived as much as I wanted to.

“So you thought of me in those years?” I say in a hopeful tone still desperately clenching to this conversation, as if all this could be solved just if we have this talk. “Way to avoid my point right? You haven’t changed a bit, reckless and careless and always holding on to things that don’t matter much to the extent that you nearly got yourself killed,” but she says this in a kinder tone than the previous one, maybe even with a hint of worry in her voice. I finally give up on trying to get this conversation to fix it all, and decide that we’re too tired now, so I reply “I thought you said it wasn’t fatal.” A pause then, “It’s really late, are you going to leave now?” I hope that she can hear the silent ‘stay’ in what I just said. “I don’t think I can get a taxi now, can I? considering the time, and I don’t have the energy to explain all this to someone and wake them to pick me up”, “you can stay if you want?” and for all we’ve been through, I’m relieved when she agrees.

//end of part 1

->part 2

[h-a-d-i-t-h-i]

Someone is babysitting a little girl. But the little girl is a 300 year old vampire and the hole thing has more of a visiting a sweet old lady vibe.

Title: You Make Ends Meet Word Count: 1300 TW: Blood, vampires, drugs Summary: Riley makes $2000 for a weekend of work.

I’m good at making ends meet. I’ve got an apartment in Brooklyn that I share with three other people, but even then rent’s not cheap. I’ve got friends in high places that make it manageable.

One of them owns a bar that I pick up shifts at whenever they’re short-staffed - under the table kind of payments. Around Christmas, there’s always someone who knows someone who needs retail work, so I pick that up too.

Emily is the real moneymaker though.

She works in fashion and spends way too much time around rich people. Not Bezos rich. They’re not the kind of people buying boats on a whim, just the kind of people who throw out their clothes every year and think spending a grand on boots is a reasonable expense.

People like that need housesitters and dogsitters and babysitters and Emily knows how to wink and imply that an agency isn’t worth their time and she can find them someone better. I’m the something better, and I’m pretty sure that I’m not better. Doesn’t really matter. Money is money.

Emily hooked me up with babysitting someone’s eight-year-old for the weekend. It was an easy live-in gig with all the food I wanted in the house, a credit card to order out, and the sweet sum of two thousand dollars at the end. Which was weird. Even for rich people.

A few Zoom calls with the exhausted parents explained that Mary was precocious - which is one of those words rich people use when their kid sucks. That made things line up. I expected a little shrieking brat who’d spend the whole weekend throwing tantrums, demanding some weird takeout from some fancy organic place, and a neverending loop of her favorite Disney movie.

I walked in and found myself face to face with a little weirdo. She was too short for eight and had this round face thick with baby fat that would’ve made me guess five at most. She was a real pretty kid though - monolid eyes and tanned skin and a button nose that made her look like a doll come to life.

“Hey, Mary.” I dropped my duffel bag and crouched, hands on my knees in that way you greet little kids. “I’m Riley. It’s nice to meet you! Did your parents already leave?”

“I’m afraid so,” she said, with an accent out of Downtown Abbey. Her voice was smooth, none of the odd stutters and breaks for air most kids had. “Very rude of them not to say hello, but I can show you where everything is, dear.”

Dear. That was precocious. I followed her around on a tour, wondering if I had somehow signed up to babysit Benjamin Button. The apartment felt creepily still. The massive four-bedroom place felt like a set - the walls were cluttered with design, but nothing was out of place. Though honestly, that’s not weird for rich people either. They love to clutter a place up with stuff and pay a maid to fix it up for them - but even maids could only do so much with a kid running around.

But Mary was precocious, I guess. And, you know, at the time, I didn’t even notice that in all that decor none of those rooms looked like they were for a kid.

By the time we were back in the kitchen, I was focused on the fridge, looking at the emergency numbers and credit cards that were all stuck to the fridge with a magnet. I didn’t see Mary get on her tiptoes to snag a muffin off a tray in the counter, but she was pushing it up towards my face sure enough.

“Would you like a muffin?” she asked. “You look like you’re wasting away.”

I raised an eyebrow as I took it from her hands. Wasting away, alright. Off came the wrapper and I shoved a bite in my mouth as I kept reading. I nearly spit it out. 

There was sugar in it, sure, but there was also a strong, bitter, earthy taste that made me want to gag. That was how organic health nuts made their food. I’d had my fair share of skinny rich ladies insisting their carob avocado pudding tasted just like the real thing.

I choked down the swallow and set the muffin on the counter. “I’ll save that for later, Mary. I’m not hungry.”

“I’m starving.”

I took the plate of muffins from the counter. Fuck, it was heavy. Slick. My hands felt oddly slick on the clean, white ceramic. “There’s plenty,” I said, and my mouth seemed too small for my tongue. I felt the weight of it as it moved.

“Muffins are a sometimes food, dear,” she said in that sweet, oddly British voice. Her little hands reached out, taking the heavy plate from my hands. So fucking heavy. The room seemed to shift under my feet, my knees too weak to hold up my gasping body. My hand gripped the countertop, and it was shaking. Every finger trembling as the room tilted and tilted and slipped.

“I need more iron in my diet,” Mary crooned.

She looked so fucking weird. Hungry. And smart. Fucking precocious. I tried to move my mouth but the floor ripped up from under me. The tile under my feet become a wall, and I slumped against the counter. Slid to the floor.

Out like a light. ——- When I woke, I was on the couch. The big-screen plasma was tuned to the Gameshow Network, and I tried to focus as buzzers blared through the fog in my ears. My arms and legs were all heavy, numb. My whole body didn’t feel like mine, and I wiggled my toes and rolled my head with a sleepy snort.

My wrist was hot, but it was a nice kind of hot. When I looked down I thought there’d be a cup of tea, or a throwaway Starbucks cup, but it was Mary. Her hair was knotted in a bun, which was pretty cool for a kid her age to do all on her own. Her face was bent like she was kissing my arm. That was kind of weird for an eight-year-old, but kids mouthed stuff, sometimes. Maybe she needed one of those chew necklaces.

And then I thought “oh fuck that’s some blood”.

There was dark red trickling from my wrist, down my arm to the brown towel beneath me. Couldn’t really get my heartrate up to feel scared in the first place, but I sighed with relief anyway. “Dude, I could not have paid for this couch.”

Mary looked up, and as her lips left my hand they were stained dark red, shiny and wet with syrup-thick blood. There was a smear of blood on her chin, and my other fingers twitched to wipe it clean, but I couldn’t make them move. Oops. Bad babysitter.

She smiled, red-streaked on her teeth and tongue and she spoke, blood mixed with spit stretching in her mouth. “Don’t worry. It’s just the weekend. I’ll take good care of you, dear.”

I sighed, watched as she went back to my bloodstained wrist with small, childish sucks. Fuckin weird. Like being a wet nurse. Wet nurse to an eight-year-old. Rich people do that too - feed their kids milk until they’re twelve or some shit. My mind fuzzed as contestants on the screen shouted for no whammies. Colored lights flashed. I could fall asleep like that.

“Two grand’s a good price for blood,” I said, and it was. You didn’t get those selling platelets at the clinic. Two grand if I lived. That’d cover rent for a bit.

I closed my eyes with a little laugh and hoped Mary would let me have something that wasn’t a rancid organic muffin for dinner.

[secretobsessionstuff]

Infection

Here is the Dakota infection fic that I mentioned before! There is emeto in this because I can't resist.

Content Warning: Description of infected wound, blood, vomiting

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

The smell of grilled sausages greeted Dakota before he opened his eyes. They were having a real fire-cooked breakfast that morning because Blair insisted on making the most of their camping trip. It didn’t matter that there were muffins in the car; they were in the great outdoors, and they would act like it, gosh darn it!

Madix and Riley appeared to only have gotten half the message because they were fine with roasted hotdogs, but not so eager to leave their phones in the cars. At least there was good music coming from the speakers. Ah Ariana Grande—the sound of nature.

It took Dakota’s groggy mind a second to remember that he spent the night in a tent, but his achy muscles soon reminded him. Actually, his whole body hurt as if he ran up and down a hill all day yesterday.

Oh wait, he did do that.

The four of them had walked to the lake where they found a rope swing attached to the biggest tree. It was the perfect spot for launching themselves into the water because of the hill that the tree grew from. So, they spent the day running back and forth between the water and the rope.

Their perfect camping grounds were hardly a secret, but that was okay because it meant someone provided them with a rope swing. Unfortunately, it also meant that the ground was littered with metal and glass from disrespectful campers. They picked up as mush as they could find before doing flips off the rope.

Apparently, they didn’t have the best eye for trash because Dakota’s foot found a piece of a glass bottle that they missed. He had been coming back from the water, soaking wet with the biggest grin on his face, ready to jump again, when the glass shard cut into the bottom of his foot. Now Dakota, like the campers who littered in the first place, had been quite drunk. He felt the pain, certainly, but he soon forgot about it when the water washed the blood away. Until he got back to the campsite where he covered the cut with a bandage, he walked around with his skin torn open.

Dakota didn’t know it, but that cut was what made him wake up with the sickest stomach, and it was the cut that would eventually make him collapse during a hike. Well, not the cut, but what got into it.

The bandage was still on his foot when he woke that morning to the smell of breakfast being cooked. The smell turned his upset stomach, forcing him to crawl out of the tent.

Everyone was already awake, meaning he must have slept in if Riley was up before him. Blair was kneeling by the fire, turning the sausages as they cooked. Madix and Riley were sitting in their camp chairs around the fire, munching on peanuts. Chipmunks joined them for breakfast as well. The little animals scurried to where Riley held his hand open. When Dakota zipped open the tent, his friends all looked his way.

“Morning, baby!” Blair called. Her hair was in a messy bun that Dakota knew for sure wasn’t done deliberately. She looked sunny and wonderful.

“How did you two sleep?” Madix asked while shooting a glance at Riley. “Hopefully, nobody invaded your sleeping bag in the night.”

“Hey, I told you I got cold.” Riley countered. “And I heard a noise that sounded suspiciously like a bear.”

“And I told you there are no bear sightings in this forest.”

“Fine, it was a fox then.”

“What does—”

Dakota didn’t listen to his friend’s playful banter. It was a lovely morning with lovely company, but he wasn’t feeling so lovely. Everything from his head to his feet hurt, and one foot hurt more than the other. It almost felt like he had the flu, with burning eyes and aching muscles.

What made the morning even lovelier was seeing Blair so smiley. That at least helped how he was feeling. God, he really hoped he wasn’t getting the flu in the middle of the forest.

“I slept okay,” Blair said as she placed the sausages on a paper plate, “How about you, Kota? You’re waking up pretty late.”

Dakota couldn’t remember anything disrupting his sleep, but the fatigue in his bones made him question his answer. “I slept fine, but I feel weird.”

“Weird how?” Madix asked, accepting a plate from Blair.

“I don’t know. A little sick.”

“Well, you look sunburnt,” Riley said. “It’s probably from the heat.”

“Maybe.” Dakota shrugged and crossed his arms over his middle. The smell of the food was getting to him bad. It churned his stomach, reminding him of the reason he crawled out of the tent. He really didn’t want to worry Blair and take the smile away from her face, but he could feel the need to puke getting stronger. His mouth filled with saliva, and not because he was hungry.

While his friends ate, he pulled himself out of the chair and began walking away. He had to get far enough away so he wouldn’t upset Riley. Running wasn’t an option he discovered, as he needed to keep weight off his injured foot.

Dakota barely got twenty feet away from the fire before bending over with his hands on his knees. He only needed to burp once. The belch dislodged something in his stomach and suddenly he was retching up last night’s dinner onto the ground.

“Oh shit.” He heard Madix say. He didn’t know what Riley was doing, whether he was running away or covering his ears, but he felt bad either way. He hoped Riley was running away because he wasn’t close to being done.

By the time the second gush rushed up his throat, Blair was by his side. She patted his back as mostly-digested burgers and smores splattered at their feet. “Easy, babe.”

Dakota didn’t take it easy. He didn’t know how. He threw up everything in his stomach without stopping. He was hot and sweaty when he finished. Rather than feeling light-headed, he felt the opposite. His head pounded as if someone were trying to shove a million cotton balls in through his ears.

“Sorry,” he said simply while wiping his mouth. “That happened fast.”

Blair was still rubbing his back. “Are you hungover or something?”

“I don’t know.” This felt different from a hangover. He wanted to let his legs go out from under him. He wanted to lie down forever. He also didn’t want to stop Blair from having a good day.

“Are you okay? What do you need?” she asked, like he knew she would. She started leading him back to the tent with a comforting hand on his shoulder.

He let out a groan as he entered the tent. “I need to go back to sleep. I’m fucking exhausted.”

From outside, he heard Madix and Riley come back to the site. Madix poked his head into the tent. “Hangover or heat exhaustion, that is the question.”

“I’m sorry, Mads. I’m so sorry.” Dakota said with his hand over his eyes.

“Don’t feel bad. You couldn’t help it.” Madix looked back, probably checking on Riley. “Now, did you drink too much, or do I need to worry about heat stroke?”

God, no, Dakota thought to himself. Madix would undoubtedly make them pack up their tents if he had heat stroke. He didn’t think he was sick from drinking, but he wasn’t about to end their trip so soon. “I’m probably hungover. I just need to sleep it off.”

“Are you sure, baby?” Blair cooed while running her hand through his hair. “You don’t look good.”

“Listen, you guys go to the lake this morning while I rest, and I’ll be good to go on the hike this afternoon.”

Blair put two water bottles by his pillow. “You have to promise to drink lots of water.”

“I will, I promise.”

His friends eventually agreed to leave him in the tent to rest. Everyone wanted him to get better so that he could enjoy himself later.

Everything will be fine; it isn’t heat stroke. Dakota’s groggy mind replayed this sentence until he fell asleep.

He was right about it not being heat stroke, but wrong about the other thing.

…

Rustling in the nearby bushes woke Dakota from his nap. Checking his phone, he realized that he slept for nearly four hours. He let his head fall back onto his damp pillow. The nausea was slightly better, but everything else was worse. Every part of his body was throbbing in pain so maybe that’s why he didn’t bother to check the heat emanating up his ankle. Besides, there was enough heat on his forehead to roast that night’s marshmallows. The water bottles that Blair gave him were still full and now warm. He was sweating out every ounce of fluid left in his body, but the thought of filling stomach with liquid made him want to zip himself up into his sleeping bag and use it as a casket.

The rustling got louder and was accompanied by voices. It was his friends returning from the lake. For some reason Dakota suddenly thought that chugging the water bottles would make everyone happy. It would ease Blair’s worries about him being sick, and maybe it would even give him the energy to get up. And he wanted to get up so bad, so that’s what he did. He quickly found clothes in his duffel bag that would be good for hiking.

The water sloshed in his stomach as he greeted his friends around the firepit. He braced himself on the back of a chair and put a smile on his face.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Blair asked. She got up on her tiptoes—a sign for Dakota to bend down so she could kiss him.

“Better. I think a hike will be good for me.” Said no one ever who just finished puking their guts up. Dakota just said it, but he was a liar.

Apparently, he was a good liar. “Yay!” Blair exclaimed while swapping her flip flops for running shoes.

It wasn’t long before the group was ready for their hike. It was an uphill hike. Yippee, Dakota thought. It also wasn’t long before he started to fall behind in the marching order. Blair led the charge with Riley. The two of them played twenty questions while leading the way. Madix fell back as well. Dakota wasn’t being very subtle in his suffering. He knew that Madix was keeping an eye on him.

He huffed his way up the trail, feeling worse with every step. Feeling even worse with every other step as his right foot momentarily held his weight. He was back to being nauseous and dizzy, and feeling like the sky switched places with the earth. With how blurred his vision was, Dakota was surprised that he didn't trip. Maybe it would be okay to trip. It would give him a second to rest on the ground.

Aw hell, he didn’t need an excuse to rest.

Dakota called out to Madix in a weak voice. Luckily, Madix heard him even when a coughing fit broke up his request to stop. The coughing turned into gagging and forced Dakota back into the position from that morning with his hands on his knees. It was the sound of him gagging that made Madix call out to Riley and Blair, telling them to keep walking. He and Dakota would catch up soon.

Madix carefully stepped around protruding branches to reach his friend. “Why don’t you sit down.” He gestured to a group of large rocks on the side of the trail. Well, he picked a good place to stop.

Dakota held up a finger and then heaved up the water that sloshed and gurgled in his belly. It didn’t take many retches before the water was gone, leaving only bile left to throw up. One harsh retch had him toppling to the ground where he finished being sick on his hands and knees.

“Jesus, Kota,” Madix said while helping him up. “What, are we back in our undergrad?” He meant it as a joke; a throwback to the dorm room hangovers that made even water impossible to keep down. Madix’s easy expression turned serious when Dakota sat on the rock with his head in his hands. He looked bad. Far too sweaty for how little they walked. And something else seemed wrong. Madix put his hand on Dakota’s shoulder. “Hey, are you shaking?”

Dakota was indeed shaking. Shivering in the summer heat. “This is gonna sound ridiculous, but I’m cold.”

Madix frowned. He moved the hand that was on Dakota’s shoulder to the back of his neck. His skin was burning hot and slick with sweat. That wouldn’t have been too weird, but it was the shivering that worried Madix. “I think you have a fever. Something is making you sick and it isn’t the booze.”

Dakota was hardly listening. Everything hurt. He didn’t have the energy to theorize with Madix about what was making him feel like garbage. The ache in his head and his stomach was nothing compared to the throbbing inside his shoe.

“Dakota, are you hearing me? I want to take you back to the campsite.”

The boy didn’t move. He didn’t say anything as he bit his tongue in pain.

“Dakota?”

The shaking of his shoulders managed to pull him out of trance. “Sorry, sorry it’s my foot. It’s killing me.” He couldn’t take the pain anymore and kicked off his shoe. “I cut it the other day and it still hurts like hell.”

“Let me see,” Madix said, moving off the rock to get a better look. Immediately, the red and yellowish stain on Dakota’s sock made him worried.

Once Dakota took off the sock and the bandage, Madix recoiled with a hand over his mouth. “Oh God, fuck, why didn’t you say anything?” The smell hit Madix first. It wasn’t as bad as some wounds that he’d seen at the hospital, but it still caught him off the guard.

The cut was deep enough to warrant stitches, but the biggest problem was the yellow pus leaking from it. The entire bottom of his foot was red and swollen. After getting over the sight of the cut, Madix started thinking about how painful it must be to walk on.

“Is it bad?” Dakota asked, though he already knew the answer from the look on Madix’s face.

“Yeah, it’s bad. It’s infected.”

“Can you fix it?”

Madix shifted on his knees, trying to see the cut from a better angle. “If you showed it to me before it got this bad, then maybe, but not now. You need to go to the hospital.”

“Shit,” Dakota mumbled as he carefully put his sock and shoe back on.

Madix helped Dakota up and let him lean on him. “Shit is right. God, why do you make me worry so much?”

“It’s gonna make Blair worry too.” She was going to be even more upset than Madix. He hated being the reason she was upset. And it wasn’t even because he cut the trip short, but because he didn’t take better care of himself. “If only I weren’t so lovable.”

“Ha, you won’t have to worry about that anymore,” Madix said breathlessly. It was a lot harder to hike when a whole person was hanging off your arm. “See, all the appeal was stored in your foot, and now we’ll have to cut it off.”

Shockingly, Madix was being facetious. There would be no foot chopping that day, or any day. There might be a scolding from Blair but that was it. The cleaning of the wound would hurt less than the look of concern that Blair would wear. It was that look that would eventually make Dakota paranoid about treating every single cut, no matter how small. He could never see that look again.