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teaberrii · 1 year

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Chapter 11: Be Mine

You've been Cupid for as long as you can remember. You've brought countless soulmates together, yet you've never found love.

When you're assigned to bring two childhood friends back together, it should be simple until you unexpectedly catch feelings for the mysterious and cold Ph.D. student, Dan Heng, the man with a soulmate… the man with answers to your past.

Dan Heng/You

Chapter warnings: Smut

Notes:

Cross-posted on Ao3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

“This is your house?” Pom asks incredulously.

Dan Heng’s family home reminds you of something straight from the movies. A modern, three-story home with a large open balcony on the third floor. Large glass windows are on every floor; if they aren't tinted, you and Pom will have seen a black-ringed chandelier hanging in the spacious living room.

Dan Heng isn’t surprised at you and Pom’s reaction to his family home. While Dan Heng told you and Pom that the disease seemed to target people from wealthy families, he didn't mention that one of the victims had been his mother. He doesn't want to point fingers, especially when there are still missing pieces.

“Damn,” Pom continues. “You’re rich rich!”

It hasn’t always been like that though.

When Pom walks ahead, you glance at Dan Heng. “Is there a reason why you suddenly invited us to dinner?”

To impress you. To show you it’s not just Pom who can cook. As much as Dan Heng wants to make light of the situation, he does have a motive.

“My father invited Stelle and her father.”

You remember the bits and pieces of the conversation you’d overheard at the restaurant. Could this dinner be an excuse to talk about a potential marriage between Dan Heng and Stelle? The thought should excite you, yet you feel anxious and uncomfortable.

“He said he doesn’t have any motives,” Dan Heng continues. "But… I do have my doubts.”

You place a hand on your hip and wag a finger at him. “So, you’re using us to get out of being potentially betrothed.”

You swear you see him smirk, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. “That’s one way of looking at it.” His soft smile makes the butterflies come alive. “It’s also a way for me to introduce you to my father.”

It could’ve been a friendly statement, but the way he’s looking at you says otherwise. It’s something you’ve come to realize about Dan Heng’s borderline flirty advances. The serious look in his eyes has no room for doubt or jokes. For a moment, you entertain the possibility that he wants you. Likes you. Loves you. But you quickly shake the thought away.

“I don’t know how he’d take the news that his son is hanging out with a god.”

“He doesn’t have to know everything… yet.”

You almost chuckle. “I never thought you would have a rebellious side.”

“I have many more.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat when you see his gaze darkens. You hold his stare until Pom’s voice snaps you out of it.

“Stelle!”

You and Dan Heng look away from each other, and he quietly clears his throat. But then he looks over his shoulder and smiles. “Let’s go.”

You and Pom are the first to enter. Dan Heng is the last and closes the door behind him.

“I hope you don’t mind extra guests,” Dan Heng says to Stelle.

“Not at all. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

The interior of Dan Heng's house is just as extravagant as the outside. Clean, and bright, but what catches your eye is the white, gray, black, and beige colour scheme that's similar to Dan Heng's apartment.

When you enter the living room, you see two men sitting on adjacent couches. One of them strongly resembles Dan Heng, which you assume is his father. He looks just as tall as his son, but his gaze is sharp, almost as if he's judging you. His features still look quite refined for his age.

“Your friends?”

You turn to the other man, who you assume is Stelle's father. Does he know about his son's condition? Or is he also out of the loop like his daughter?

After Dan Heng introduces you and Pom, his father gestures for you and Pom to sit. As you and Pom sit on an empty couch, Dan Heng speaks up. “Has Agnes started cooking?“

“Of course.”

“I’ll go help her.”

His father looks at Dan Heng as if he’s grown a second head. “But… you don’t know how to cook.”

A soft laugh accidentally escapes you, and you quickly put a hand over your mouth, hoping to mask it with a quiet cough. But Dan Heng quickly catches on.

“Wait, wait,” Pom says, turning to Dan Heng. “Does this mean Gepard does all the cooking?”

“I think they get takeout more frequently than other people,” Stelle says.

"I've been learning," Dan Heng says. It’s the first time a slight desperation breaks through his usual calm voice.

His father waves Dan Heng off toward the kitchen. “Well, be careful not to burn the house down.”

“I won’t,” Dan Heng deadpans.

You watch Dan Heng walk away, not knowing that Dan Heng wants to cook something… anything for you. It’s not until you hear his father say your name that you turn away.

“How did you meet my son?”

Pom laughs softly. “Oh, well, if you want the full story, we stalked—”

You elbow Pom in the side and say, “At school. He’s my senior.”

"It's funny, actually," Stelle pops in. "Pom was part of my security team at my last fan meet."

“Interesting… and may I ask what your parents do?”

You and Pom glance at each other, but it’s Pom who says, “We… don’t know them.”

You hope you kept your poker face because you’re sweating buckets on the inside. Pom told the truth, but anything after that will become a web of lies, and you hope you and Pom can keep up.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Dan Heng’s father says, looking apologetic.

“Does this mean you grew up together?” Stelle’s father asks.

“That’s right,” you say. It’s not really a lie.

“This is my first time hearing about this,” Stelle says, visibly surprised.

Pom laughs awkwardly. “Ah, yes, well… you never asked.”

"It's been a while since my son brought home some new friends," Dan Heng's father says, crossing one leg over the other as it looks like he’s studying you and Pom. "He's usually too busy studying."

“Well, what can we say?” Pom says, hoping to lighten up the situation. “Cupid and I are special.”

“Cupid?”

You mentally facepalm as Pom forces a little smile. “It’s her nickname.”

“That’s an interesting nickname."

“You never shared the story of why people call you that,” Stelle adds. “I’m curious myself.”

A sudden short scream from the kitchen makes heads turn. You quickly stood and rush to the kitchen before everyone else. When you get there, you see a puff of smoke, a rolling pot lid on the stove, and Dan Heng holding his hand and looking as if in pain.

“What happened?” you ask, quickly walking over.

The surprise on his face is brief, and he quickly looks at the burn on his finger. “It’s nothing, I—”

You take his hand, and Dan Heng almost forgets about the pain. Then, without letting go, you open the tap and put his finger under the cold running water. You’re looking at his burn, but Dan Heng is looking at you.

“Oh, my!” The gasp makes you turn. “What happened?”

An older woman walks up, but before you can move away from him, he gently puts his other hand around your shoulder. “Everything’s fine, Agnes,” he says.

“He burned himself,” you say to the woman. “Do you have a gauze?”

“Yes! I’ll get them right away!”

Once the woman leaves, you suddenly hear Dan Heng’s low voice beside your ear. “How long are you going to keep holding my hand?”

Startled, you turn around, your lips almost brushing against his cheek. His eyes are on you, and you swallow, not knowing that he takes note of the slight bob of your throat and how you’re darting your eyes before finally focusing on him.

“Are you sure they’re just friends?”

You nor Dan Heng hear the question from Stelle’s father. The men along with Pom and Stelle are standing by the kitchen doorway, watching you and Dan Heng.

"They've, uh, gotten pretty close," Pom says, glancing at Dan Heng's father out of the corner of his eye. The man doesn't look amused, but Pom isn't certain. His poker face is as strong as his son's. There's no telling what's exactly on his mind.

“Dan Heng,” Stelle says, entering the kitchen.

You and Dan Heng move away from each other. That’s when you see everyone else at the kitchen doorway.

“Oh, excuse me!”

Pom and Stelle’s father steps aside for Agnes, the household maid, to bring what you’d asked for. Agnes puts them on the kitchen counter and says something, but it falls on deaf ears as you suddenly feel nervous. Perhaps it’s because of the intimidating way Dan Heng’s father is looking at the two of you as if you got caught doing something you aren’t supposed to be doing.

“Should I help with the gauze?” Stelle asks.

You awkwardly step back and let Stelle handle Dan Heng’s wound. Yet, when you look at him, his eyes also meet yours.

“There. All finished,” Stelle says, looking up at him. However, Dan Heng isn’t looking at her, and she looks over her shoulder and sees you’re helping Agnes clean up the kitchen. “Dan Heng?”

He looks down. “Thanks, Stelle.” Then, he pulls his hand away.

“Well, dinner is ready, everybody!” Agnes says cheerily.

At the dinner table, you and Dan Heng are sitting across from each other. Stelle, who looks at all the dishes on the table, smiles and asks, “Which dish is yours, Dan Heng?”

“Or did it not make it to the table?” you tease.

“I helped with all of them,” Dan Heng says, but you know he’s attempting to save some face.

Pom smiles. “Maybe I could give you some lessons!”

“Are we getting Teacher Pom?” Stelle asks.

“Ooh, Teacher Pom! I like the sound of that.” Pom grabs some food for his plate.

Chopsticks in hand, you and Dan Heng reach for the same dish. You're expecting him to grab some food for himself first, but he uses his chopsticks to put the food on your plate.

“I wouldn’t mind,” he says.

“Since when were you interested in cooking, Dan Heng?” his father asks.

Since he found out that Pom cooks for you, but Dan Heng says, “I’m going to have to learn eventually.”

Stelle grabs some food for herself. “So, what’s the real reason Dan Heng and I are here?” You never expect Stelle to ask such a blunt question. “Something’s up, right?”

Stelle’s father takes out his phone, gives it a few taps, and shows it to his daughter. “Looks like you you didn’t see this.”

When Stelle leans forward to take a look, Dan Heng’s father says, “You should also take a look, Dan Heng.”

And that’s when Stelle and Dan Heng see a tabloid article of a “rumoured couple” with the said couple being themselves. There are pictures of them together from the festival, including one of Stelle grabbing onto Dan Heng’s arm when they came out of the medieval castle.

“It’s everywhere on the Internet. I’m surprised you haven’t heard about it.”

Dan Heng frowns. “It’s not true."

“I told you I was going to the festival with friends,” Stelle adds. She looks at you and Pom. "They were there! It… wasn’t a date.”

“Don’t tell me you called us here just to confirm some groundless rumours,” Dan Heng says flatly.

“No,” Stelle’s father says calmly. “I want to ask you to continue it.”

“What?”

You and Pom almost join Stelle and Dan Heng’s simultaneous response.

“What are you saying?” Stelle asks.

"In a few days, the media will release an article… about The Withering." You and Pom almost drop your chopsticks. "Apparently, there's been another victim."

Looks like Caelus fed his father the same lies he fed his friends. What Dan Heng doesn’t understand is how the media got wind of this information. Caelus requested privacy. No one but a select few are supposed to know.

“What does that have to do with this?” Stelle asks.

“From what we know, there’s been no progress on finding a cure. Experts are speaking about the incompetence of the industry… and the government.”

You’re starting to see where Stelle’s father is going with this. If they can’t stop free speech, the government can attempt to divert people’s attention elsewhere, hoping the general public will forget about it.

“Does the media know the victim?” you ask reluctantly.

“No,” Stelle’s father answers. “Their name won’t be mentioned, but that’s not what’s important.”

Will he still be saying that if he knows it’s his son?

“I don’t know much about this disease myself," Stelle's father continues. "But it’s very rare. Is it not? Regardless, we don't want to frighten the public.”

Dan Heng looks at his father. If Dan Heng didn’t know what he knew, he would’ve said something. Isn’t his father curious? Is he not curious about the disease that claimed his mother’s life? Wouldn’t he want the government to do more?

“We’re not asking you to date,” Stelle’s father says. “Just continue the rumours for the interest of the public for a few months until this article blows over.”

You and Pom glance at each other. This feels so… surreal.

“Dan Heng.” Everyone turns to his father. “It’s just a small favour. It’s not like we’re asking you to marry each other.”

You look at Dan Heng; it doesn’t look like he’s going to change his mind. And, frankly… you don’t want him to, but you refuse to acknowledge the quiet voice that’s also been screaming at you that you are, in fact, attracted to Dan Heng. However, you think back to your assignment. What’s going to happen if you don’t complete it? Well, it’s not like you’re abandoning it. You’re just… prolonging it until you find out about your past.

Yeah, that’s it.

“Did you forget about the time he helped us? He got us out of a rough situation."

Dan Heng didn’t forget. There was a time when the world nearly fell into chaos over another mysterious disease. Except, this one was much more contagious, and left the hospitality and tourism industry in shambles. His father had just opened new hotels a year before and had yet to see a return on the investment. The pandemic had pulled them into a deeper rock bottom.

It was Stelle’s father who helped keep them afloat when things got really rough. While Dan Heng wasn’t aware of everything that was going on, he knew of their involvement in helping his father. Once things were looking up again, his father returned all the money Stelle’s father gave him during tough times.

“Think about it, Dan Heng,” Stelle’s father says.

Dan Heng doesn’t need to think about it. He doesn’t want to do it, but he knows better than to cause a public scene, especially in front of you.

The silence that settles drags on until Stelle begins to talk about her movie that's going to be released soon, which lightens up the mood.

Soon, Dan Heng heads to the kitchen to grab a drink. As soon as he closes the door of the fridge, he sees his father at the doorway out of the corner of his eye.

“Is there a reason why you’re so against this favour?”

It's a complete joke, Dan Heng wants to say. But, instead, he says, "I doubt the public has that much interest in Stelle's love life." He opens the bottle. "People will forget about it after a week."

“Are you sure it’s not because of your friend?” Then, his father says your name. Dan Heng stops and puts his hands on the counter. “I saw how she was treating your burn. You didn’t seem to mind.”

Are you dating? The unvoiced question lingers in the air.

Dan Heng doesn’t want to answer that question. So, instead, he asks, "Why would I mind?" He puts the drink back and walks away with his drink.

After dinner, Stelle and her father are the first to leave. Dan Heng is walking you and Pom to the station when Pom asks, “Are you… going to do it, Dan Heng?”

“No.”

But there’s something that’s bothering him.

“Do you think it’s Jing Yuan who leaked this to the media?” you ask.

Looks like you two are on the same page.

“Caelus wanted to keep this a secret,” Dan Heng says. “He requested this to remain private.”

“Is it likely he had a change of heart?” Pom asks.

“If he did, he never told me or showed any signs, and I’d assume he would tell those closest to him first. It’s difficult to say whether Jing Yuan is behind this or not, but I don’t see how he’d benefit. Unless…”

“There’s something we don’t know about yet,” you finish quietly.

Once you reach the station, Pom sighs. “So much for getting pampered.”

You gently nudge him. “It was a good dinner.”

“It was! But I was hoping for a relaxing evening without all the talk about the you-know-what.”

You can’t argue with that. Your lives are revolving around this god-forsaken disease, and you don’t like it at all.

“Well, before I become a third wheel again, I’ll let you two say your fare-thee-wells. Toodles!”

Pom walks off, leaving you and Dan Heng alone, though both of you have a slightly amused smile.

“There’s never a dull moment with Pom around, it seems.”

You laugh. “Never.”

Then, Dan Heng slightly looks away as he says, “There’s… a favour I’d like to ask.”

This is a surprise. “I’m listening.”

Dan Heng doesn't know whether his father will stop grilling him about his relationship with you. But why waste an opportunity?

“It’s true Stelle’s father helped us financially when things were rough,” Dan Heng says. “My father repaid him all the money when our situation improved. So… I don’t want to help him with this favour.” You nod in understanding. "But I don't know if my father will keep pestering me on this or not. I want him off my back if I'm being blunt. So…" Dan Heng walks toward you until he's at arm's length. Then, he looks you straight in the eyes and asks, "Can I say you're my girlfriend?"

◆◆◆

You madly opened drawers, looked under your covers, and dug around every nook and cranny of your room. Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach the longer your search continued. It was gone. The notebook you used to keep in touch with Young was officially gone.

“Looking for something, Love?”

You spun around at the slightly threatening-sounding voice. Jing Yuan stood at the door. His eyes were full of disappointment yet were still as sharp as a wolf.

“As a matter of fact, I am,” you answered cautiously.

Jing Yuan reached into his hanfu and pulled out the notebook. “Is this what you’re looking for?”

Your face went pale. How did Jing Yuan know about it? You had deliberately kept the notebook a secret, but it wasn’t because you and Young were exchanging secret messages no one should know about. The notebook was imbued with magic, its functionality something that surpassed how much humans knew about magic.

"Who gave this to you?"

“Give it back.” You walked toward him and reached for it, but he swiftly raised it higher. You didn't bother jumping for it. “That belongs to me, Jing Yuan.”

“Why are you being so secretive?” He grabbed your wrist and forced you to the wall. “What are you doing behind my back, hm?”

You couldn’t tell him about Young. Unlike you, Jing Yuan despised creatures like Young, as his parents were supposedly murdered by them many years ago.

"I'm not doing anything behind your back!"

Jing Yuan scoffed. "Do you take me for a fool? I know what this notebook does." He tightened the grip on your wrist, and you winced in pain. "I know you've been talking to Young."

The colour drained from your face. How did he come to that conclusion? Young had told you that no one could use the notebook but you.

“Let me go, Jing Yuan,” you said bitterly.

He slammed a hand beside your head, and you instantly stiffened. “How long has he been doing it?”

“What are you talking about?”

Jing Yuan smiled wryly. “How long has he been fucking you so you’ll become his pathetic human spy?”

Your face flared with anger. “You are disgusting."

You would’ve spat in his face if his lips suddenly claimed yours as if to prove a point. Your mind was screaming as you did everything in your power to reject his advances. This wasn’t the Jing Yuan you knew. This wasn’t the man you loved. Or… thought to have loved.

Jing Yuan eventually released you. Your clothes were in disarray, and you were clearly shaken, but you still mustered the courage to glare at him.

“Get out,” you seethed.

Jing Yuan tossed the notebook to your feet. “The maids found it while cleaning your room. If you’re going to cheat, at least try to hide it.”

You picked up the notebook just as Jing Yuan slammed the door.

Your marriage was over before it even began, but that was the least of your worries.

At first, you didn't understand why Jing Yuan didn't broadcast to the world that you were "secretly seeing" Young. But the psychological toll it was taking on you made you realize why. He enjoyed having you wrapped around his finger. He would threaten to expose your secret to your parents, everyone in the palace, and the public if you didn't do what you were told. To Jing Yuan, you were still going to be his wife. He'd dote on you, but it was all an act. If you broke off the marriage, everyone would question you. Not him.

You were the King's daughter, but in an era where men were considered more important than women, no one paid much attention to you. You were an accessory who received little praise for doing something right, but god forbid you did something "wrong."

At first, you tried to contact Young through the notebook, but when Young didn't reply for days, you knew Jing Yuan did something to it. As days went by, you felt more and more alone. Even your brother, who you thought you could confide in, had reprimanded you.

“I told you it was dangerous to keep in touch with him,” he said. “It’s your fault you got yourself into this mess.”

“Are you saying what Jing Yuan did was right?” you fired back. “I know he’s been seeing other women.”

It was just the other night you caught him drinking with a woman wearing a hanfu that barely covered her large breasts. His eyes had met yours, but you shut the door so fast that you didn't see his smirk. You'd thought to catch him in the act, but he was always one step ahead. He did something to the women he slept with and concealed it using magic. But it was magic you knew about as Young had told you about it before. In other words, Jing Yuan knew more than he should.

“That was after he found out you were having an affair with Young.”

“I was not!” You exhaled sharply. "J ing Yuan's dangerous. He—"

"That's enough, Sister." Your brother sighed, and your heart sank even further. "Your heart was never in the right place. You knew about the dangers, yet you were risking your life for what? Young? Think about it. You’re in love with him.”

You had been ignoring the small voice in your mind that you were in love with Young. Perhaps the more you denied it, the feeling would go away. You and Young could never happen. But hearing it said out loud was like you were hit with a ton of bricks. You had nowhere to run. You had to accept the truth, but you didn't want to think about this now.

He shook his head in disappointment. “I pity you, Sister.”

Then, he closed the door to your room, leaving you alone.

Unbeknownst to you, you stir in your sleep as the tears began to fall. You’re clutching your blanket tightly as another piece of your past comes back to you.

You had just finished bathing and returned to your room when you saw a white dove perched on one of the wooden frames. When you got closer, there was a note attached to its foot. You thought it would fly away, but it allowed you to untie the parchment.

May I come in?

You recognized the handwriting and the magic. When you quietly said, "Yes"," you sensed a comforting presence behind you. You heard Young say your name, and you turned, almost crying when he took you in his arms.

“I missed you.”

“I couldn’t get in touch with you,” you said quietly, taking comfort in hearing his heartbeat. “The notebook… Jing Yuan…”

"He did something to it, didn't he?" Young said bitterly.

You pulled away. “How did you know?"

"He threatened me."

Young told you about how Jing Yuan used the notebook to figure out who he was. Young had his suspicions that it wasn't you, but that couldn't be possible... unless someone had the knowledge and the magic to break the seal.

"He knows more than he lets on," Young continued.

“What did he want from you?”

You and Young were sitting next to each other on the bed.

It turned out Jing Yuan was threatening your life in exchange for information on dark magic.

“I’ll kill her,” Jing Yuan had said to Young.

“You’re supposed to love her,” Young said, glaring at the general.

"Love her?" Jing Yuan scoffed. "Don't make me laugh." Young clenched his fists. This was the man you were supposed to marry? "Not when she's in love with another man." Young's heart had almost skipped a beat. You? In love with another man? Could it be...? Jing Yuan glared at Young. "Do we have a deal?"

Jing Yuan? And dark magic? That was not a good combination. You clenched your fists, but Young put his hand over yours, and you naturally held his hand.

“You gave him what he wanted?” you asked quietly.

“He wasn’t sane. I could never risk losing you.”

You looked him in the eyes. “But—”

Young put a hand on your cheek and leaned in until his soft lips touched yours. Your eyes widened. It was just for a moment, but it ignited something within you.

“I love you,” Young said quietly. “...I love you with all my heart.”

You blinked once and the tears began to fall. Then, you quickly pulled him close and kissed him full on the mouth. His tongue slid into your mouth like a sword into its sheath. His hand finds its way around your head, gently pulling you closer until he was intimately kissing you with all that he had. He'd dreamt of this moment, but you tasted so much better than he could've ever imagined. The want. The love. The desire. It was conveyed in this one kiss that opened the skies and broke the heavens.

Your hands landed on his hard chest while Young's slowly slid down your thin robe. Coupled with how his tongue danced with yours, by God, you needed more. One of your hands slipped into his hanfu, feeling his taut muscles, and your kiss broke for a second for you to hear a quiet, low moan from his delicious mouth.

By the time you pulled away, your face was flushed and your pupils were dilating. Your desire for this man had been cut from its rusting chains, and you wanted him to—

“...Love me,” you said before you could stop yourself. You felt a little embarrassed, but Young's gaze only darkened with desire. You swallowed thickly. “...Please.”

You could feel his breath on your lips. He said your name in a low voice that almost made you shiver. In one swoop, Young had you on your back. His lips grazed your neck, and you heard him whisper, "Then, I won't hold back."

Young’s lips found yours again as his hands undid your robe. His fiery kisses continue again and again as the pad of his thumb massaged a nipple with a circular motion until it was hard and round as a delicate pearl. Young lowered his head and took one into his mouth, his tongue slow and measured as he worked to satisfy his carnal appetite for you. Yet, the more he tried, the more his desire grew.

“Ah…”

Your breathy moans spurred him on, and the animalistic desire to pleasure you soared to new heights. One of his hands slid lower, feeling the curves of your body he'd never thought he would touch. Your legs parted even more when you felt his hand dipping lower to your core. Sliding the fabric of your undergarments aside, he slowly slid two fingers inside. He raised his head, watching how your expressions change as he moved his fingers in a come-hither motion that worked to stimulate your G-spot and clit at the same time.

Your hips moved to the motion of his fingers as you reached for his heightened desire that was throbbing beneath his hanfu. Young’s fingers slid out at your short cry. He was on his knees, and as you watched him undress, the sight of his naked chest did nothing to calm the vertigo he had subjected you to when he kissed you. Your face flushed at the sight of his heavy sex that made your imagination ran wild.

His hands were on either side of your head; you curled your legs around him. When he slowly slid into you, you heard him curse, something you’ve never heard before in the many years you’ve known him. It was strangely erotic.

Your bodies began moving together. His steady but deep thrusts against the roll of your hips. Your arms were on his back, legs tightly around him, as Young began moving faster… stronger… until you could barely contain the moans and gasps he so easily elicited. But you weren't the only one. His breathing became erratic; he muttered another vulgarity, and he almost growled your name in pleasure beside your ear.

Your head was rolled back, eyes on the ceiling as you basked in the newfound pleasure. Suddenly, Young tilted your head down, and you felt his soft lips against yours, kissing you with a fiery intensity that got stronger with every thrust until…

You came simultaneously with a satisfied moan.

As both of you came down from the high, Young kissed your forehead and smiled at you. Then you heard him whisper, “I should’ve told you much sooner.” You put a hand on his cheek as he said, more loudly this time, “I should’ve asked you to be mine.”

Your eyes open, and you're staring at the ceiling of your bedroom. Your heart is beating rapidly, your breathing is uneven, and your face is flushed. You're clutching your blanket as you sit up, tears sliding down your cheeks.

You and Young had made love, but that would be the first and the last time. You bury your head in your hands as you knew that would be the last moment of bliss you'd share before everything crumbled.

Chapter 12

End Notes:

I was supposed to post this yesterday, but this chapter just kept going and going... and I didn't know where to stop LOL. By the time it was done, it was late, so I left editing until today. This is the longest chapter out of all my stories, but it's my favourite out of this story so far.

I feel kinda bad for making Jing Yuan the bad guy... 😭😭 I love him, honestly, which is why I have a separate story idea for him after this one. The guy is too sexy and lovable. But yeah, enjoy evil Jing Yuan for now LOL

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116 notes · View notes

thelampisaflashlight · 1 year

Text

I come from a family of very superstitious individuals, though I, myself, do not put much credence to the paranormal.

This isn't to say I doubt the experiences other people have had -with a few exceptions due to personal reasons- but I follow much the same logic as, say, Houdini or Ghost Files' Shane Madej, in that I need proof.

There's the old saying, "Seeing is believing" and have I seen things?

Yes.

Shockingly, yes.

And you might be saying, "Lamp, if you've seen something supernatural, something that you couldn't explain, then why don't you believe?"

It all comes back to the human imagination.

Now this isn't to say I think people are imagining things when they see ghosts and other otherworldly things.

However, there already exists several known phenomenon that can scientifically explain how or why we might be seeing them.

Pareidolia, for example, in which we find faces in objects, is a very normal quirk of how our brains are wired.

We are also more susceptible to seeing/hearing things when we are tired or stressed.

Our minds are wired to help us remain vigilant in situations where we might encounter danger, because while we might be perfectly safe, even imagined dangers can trigger a real fear response.

It's why when someone has a dream that someone did something mean to them, they might be angry/upset when they wake up.

But I digress.

So, what did I see?

Well, first things first, I think it's important to give you some context.

When I was ten years old, my mother passed away quite suddenly.

She had been sick for some time, but had hidden it well enough that by the time her symptoms were impossible to hide anymore, it was already too late to help her.

Without going into too much detail on how she died, I can tell you that it was incredibly traumatic for me.

So much so that I spent the ages of eleven to seventeen in therapy, and I still, to this day, have not wholly unpacked the entirety of that day with anyone.

The night after her passing, however, is when this event occurred.

Now, as I said a moment ago, the human imagination -the human mind- is a fantastic thing.

And when we are tired and stressed, as I was, we are perhaps more inclined to see things that aren't truly there.

My mother, for as long as I knew her, always sat at the same spot at our dining room table; In a well worn wooden chair in front of a chest that I never got to see the contents of -not an important detail, but a far gone curiosity now- and her sweater, a gray and pinkish-purply thing made of that yarn that always seems to go to fuzz, was draped over the back of it.

To my mother, one of the most important things to do when someone past, was to view the body in order to say goodbye.

When my paternal grandmother passed two years prior to my mother's own death, she'd taken my hand in her own and we stood by her bedside and said our goodbyes.

I did not get to say goodbye to my mother.

And I think, perhaps, that's why I saw what I did.

I had reached out, placing my hand on the back of the chair, and turned to look out at the window... and there was my mom.

Sitting in the chair beside me.

I need you to understand when I say this, it could not have been a person standing outside, and before anyone says, "Well, it could have been your own reflection staring back at you."

I do not look like my mother.

Or at least I didn't look like her back then.

I was a very pale, blond child, and my mother was a brunette, who, quite infamously, resembled Frida Kahlo.

In fact I've played a game with my siblings a number of times called "Mom or Frida Kahlo", the resemblance is that uncanny.

But what got to me the most was the expression on her face.

She was angry.

And it frightened me.

In that moment, I had felt real fear.

I was so taken aback I went to go find my father, and when I told him what happened, he just said, "That makes sense."

That makes sense.

I didn't tell him that she looked unhappy.

And, for a long time, I forgot about it.

But every so often the memory comes back to me.

I can write it off a million different ways.

Yet...

#lamp rambles #death mention tw #talking about ghosts #but not ghost #I remembered something and felt like rambling

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basketcaseeeeee · 2 years

Text

The Anniversary Effect. Chapter 2: The car ride.

Warnings: SH, emotional abuse, cheating, mentions of blood, suicide, scaring, trauma, ptsd, angst. So much angst. I think that's it. If there's anymore, please let me know!

Summary: you and your boyfriends relationship was falling apart. One mistaken night, you slept with of his best friends of 10 years. Trying to work through this, your friend group threw a party to try to get back everything back to "normal." Brush everything under the rug. That night, that rug got pulled right from under you. You felt something was coming. Floating around in the background. The uneasiness, growing anxiety. They say the body knows before the mind. You felt something was coming. Floating around in the background. The uneasiness, growing anxiety. They say the body knows before the mind.

You barely slipped into the passenger seat before your boyfriend, Jerrin, was already speeding out of the parking lot. Making your door slam shut in the process. Here we go you think to yourself. He's gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are white. You know what's coming. The beratement, name calling, the yelling.

"You're a fucking piece of work you know that? The one thing I told you to do, the one thing that everyone told you to do, and you couldn't even do that! How fucking hard is it to follow one simple direction given straight to you huh?! Are you that fucking stupid?! I told you to stay the fuck away from! Are you that dumb of a bitch? Fucking answer me!" Holding back your tears, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry, again. You choose anger instead of sadness this time to reply. " Fuck you! I didn't tell him to come outside! I hadn't spoken to him all night until that moment, Jerrin! I was outside alone until he stepped out to smoke. This isn't my fault!" "It's never your fault is it?! Shit just happens around you, right? Everyone else is to blame for poor ol you and your misfortune. You just have bad luck, right? Cursed or whatever? Did you ever think that you're the problem?! Anything bad happens, you're always somewhere involved. Your dad was right. You destroy everything you touch. Anything that happens to cross paths with you, you fuck up and destroy!" "HEY! Stop that shit right now!" Eddie yells from the backseat. "I know you're pissed man, but don't bring her dad into it. You and I both know that's a low blow." Jerrin just scoffs "fine, I'll leave that alone but otherwise, you stay out of this if you know what's good for you."

Eddie knew all about your dad, so did Jerrin. He was emotionally abusive. Always calling you names. Nothing you did was ever good enough for him. Both parents always compared you to your siblings. Being the middle child wasn't easy. They never noticed you unless you fucked up somehow. Made a mess of things. And when they did take notice of a accomplishment you achieved, it was always why can't you smart enough like so and so? Why can't you be as athletic, driven, or talented? You never felt good enough and Eddie knew this. He'd been there for you through it all. Him being your best friend since the 3rd grade, saw how your parents treated you. How your home life was messy. His was too. You only had each other to lean on, for comfort, for any sort of resemblance of stability, safety. You were each others lifeline and you made sure to stay that way well into adulthood. Sticking by each other no matter what. Full on honesty, no matter how hard it was to tell each other. That was the number one rule between you. Of course you didn't always agree with the others life choices. The occasional arguments would ensue due to your honesty policy with each other but you'd always appreciate it in the end. Honestly, it annoyed people how close you were, especially when it came to dating, but you didn't care. He was your family, the only family you ever needed, even if there was no blood relation.

"Don't you threaten him." Your tone low surprises everyone in the car, including yourself. Letting out a crazed cackle Jerrin turns to you "I should have known. It was always there, right in my goddamn face the whole time." Rolling your eyes "known what?" You huff already suspecting what he was getting at. "You're fucking him too, huh?" Now letting out your own laughter, pinching your forehead taking a deep breath before replying "you're fucking kidding me right? I'm such a slut now that im fucking everyone? It that it is? You can't seriously..." He cuts you off by slamming him hand against the dashboard "DON'T FUCKING LIE TO ME! I know exactly how you are and yes, you are a slut. A fucking whore, actually. That why you insisted on Eddie living with us? Just couldn't be with out his dick huh? And when you couldn't get his or want mine, you fucked one of my oldest friends Sean huh? Is that it? I bet he's fucked you real good didn't he?" "Shut the fuck up man!" Eddie interjects. Jerrin just laughs as he turns to you. Tears begging to fall, he cups your chin to look at him faking his sincerity with the gesture. "Think your fuck buddy is getting angry back there. Oh, you gonna cry now? God, you so fucking pathetic sometimes." Shoving his hand away "fuck you, Jerrin! The only one who's pathetic here is you. You goddamn piece of shit! Just leave me alone." He just laughs again. As if any of this is humorous. The rest of the ride home is silent. Finally pulling up to your apartment, you practically jump out of the car bolting through your front door to your room. You know, it's only going to get worse from here.

@i-me-mine

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things 4 #angst #sad

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sisterssafespace · 1 year

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Salam Alaikum! sisterr I wanted to ask is it wrong to like wear opposite gender outfits like . . I as being a girl I like tshirts , sweatpants and prefer sneaker more than heels I like the color black more than pink 🙊 and . . Many more stuffs and my family keeps judging me :( they're always like bruh be girly it's haram to dress up like that you're a GURLLL!!! like . . I feel good and comfy in those outfits!! although I wear those in my house ONLY ofcourse I wear full covered hijab when I go out. And recently in eid I made a skeleton hand tattoo with black henna instead of flowers and designs AND since then they keep shouting me and forcing me to remove it :( they say it's bad and these are the signs of shaytan .? Like . . Bruh I'm just doing it as a fashion and something new . should I stop acting like?? :( would u help me sista I'm confused

Assalamualaikum wa rahmatu Allah wa barakatuhu sweetie 🌺

So, this has been one of the most sensitive asks I've ever gotten :( I tried and tried to find an answer but the matter is so subtly sensitivity because I genuinely don't want to say something that you would take wrong, and I don't want to be dismissively of your feelings and your comfort because apparently your family are already doing that :( However, as farfetched and irrational as it might sound to you, I am afraid I am gonna have to be a little closer to your family's perspective on this case - after lots of thinking. But again this is just my reasoning, from an older sister to her younger sissy whom she genuinely cares about. The base is that we have 2 major warnings when it comes to clothing and appearances: Do not look like men + Do not dress or look like the enemies of Allah swt (i.e. the nonbelievers). But Alhamdullillah that you mentioned that you do actually wear a fully covered hijab outside, Allahuma barik laki, may Allah swt keep you steadfast on the deen and increase the love for your hijab in your heart ameen 🤍

Now to get straight to the point, I would just recommend that you don't do something that is blurry or by which you risk to fall into something we were warned against. There is nothing wrong with wearing black, obviously the majority of women in Saudi for example wear black abayas and no one says black is a gendered color, no one told Saudi women that they are resembling the opposite gender by wearing black. As for sneakers, hmmmm.. who says girls should wear heels? we are all out here wearing our comfy healthy sporty shoes don't worry! Heels are not even good for one's health. But as far as the clothing items, I would definitely recommend you explore your options, widen your options, maybe if you wore something else ( even black) but like a different type of clothes you would feel comfortable and nice about yourself. And if you couldn't I genuinely don't think that's a huge problem because Allah swt does not burden a soul with what it can't handle tbh.

Now, the skeleton hand tattoo.. do you honestly think that represents something Islamically accepted? Like when you think skeleton shape, which group of people come to your mind first? So maybe yeah on this one, I would agree with your parents. We can't just do something that represents or is a symbol for shirk or kufr and then call it fashion or a trend or being unique or being extraordinary..

I honestly don't know.. I got confused as well 😅. And I did ask several people and I didn't get a fulfilled answer or much help sübhanallah. But I do hope that if someone with more information on this topic sees this ask they wouldn't hesitate to share their knowledge with us!

Anyways, the older sister part in me is telling me that you're just a teenager or at the very beginning of your adulthood and you're just trying to find " your style" and your identity. But as long as you don't lose track of your identity as a beautiful Muslim girl and you wear it beautifully MashaAllah and you do represent Hijabi Muslim girls to the outside world, how you dress within the walls of your house is in shaa Allah manageable. And Allah swt knows best!

May Allah swt guide you and us as well, and help us find the truth, ameen!

- A. Z. 🍃

#sisterssafespace

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userkhael · 3 years

Photo

Summary: You’re doing just fine being a single mom until your son fell in love with a lost dog.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

Warning: RPF

Word Count: 2400+

A/N: Here I am again with one shots I intend to be a series and not keeping up with it. I literally just wrote this a few hours ago after contemplating on the GIF I made of Henry about Kal disappearing. I blame that GIF for this lmao. But I hope you enjoy and let me know if it deserves a part two. Your like, comments and reblogs are appreciated. Divider is made by me! :)

Update: I decided for this to be with an OFC bec it would make so much sense if I’m going to add parts to it. I hope you like it xx

**I edit my own work, this is not beta'd and there will be errors. I do not give consent for my work to be reposted outside of Tumblr without my consent.**

It's been more than 6 years since I've had a decent meal in peace. I'm not even complaining since I already got used to it but somehow you craved quiet even just for five minutes. My handsome and equally adorable son is so close to throwing tantrums because he can't seem to stick the straw in his juice box. The straw's pointy end snapped and he's so frustrated by it. Hunter is a smart boy but he can sometimes be stubborn, not asking help when he needs it the most.

I can't help but roll my eyes at his stubbornness. I ate the remaining pizza on my plate, leaving him with just the French fries side of your meal.

Staring at the people crossing the road, I kept a mental note of whatever dinner Hunter will ask for on the way home. Picking up my phone, I check for any nonsense updates in social media.

Mom's about to babysit Hunter for the night so I can try the dating world again. It's very exhausting but it is more exhausting when your parents hound you nonstop until you say yes.

"Such a beautiful boy. His father must be really handsome." An old sweet lady ruffled my son's curly hair and smiled at me. There's no denying that I do not resemble my son at all. He looked like the exact replica of his Daddy. But some people say his smile and mine are the same.

Wherever we go, I would always get compliments at how handsome he looks. Brown, curly hair, blue eyes and the cutest cleft chin there is. One time, Mom almost told him the truth in between rage of emotions. Henry himself doesn't know about Hunter and it's become a family secret.

But as Hunter grew, so this magical pull Henry has on him. He became a super fan with just one look at the video of it. It gives me a headache most of the time and I've never allowed him in any fan event he'd like to join, or anything that would make him see Henry in person. It's just too much of a risk. He'd cried for days just so he can have his shirt signed by Superman. And by the looks of how he's living his life, he looks content and happy. He's an eligible bachelor in everyone's eyes and I'm not someone to ruin a career and a relationship. He's got a girlfriend who won't be too happy about both of us popping back up in his life. And with how the movie industry take things like this, I would appear a gold digging bitch in everyone's eyes. The media hell will break loose for sure.

It was a mistake. Something someone would do if their sanity is the least of their concern. One drunken night and a broken condom later, my life has completely changed. Then came the pregnancy, which was a nightmare, extending to the date I've given birth. It has been a continuous day to day adjustment but Hunter made it all bearable. His goofy smile makes up for the sleepless nights I've experienced.

It was indeed hard raising him alone. And for someone who's just figuring out their life and didn't have her shit together. Someone who's just cruising through life without an actual purpose. Hunter is my new purpose. My renewed license in life.

I've always wondered how different it would be if Henry was there. Hunter was extremely fussy when he was still an infant. The amount of body water I've spent crying for days and having the urge to storm into Henry's house, a baby in my arms and just be done with it. I also thought of just leave town and never to come back again but my family supported me, backed me up in anything and everything I might need.

But besides being perfect, he literally has no patience in anything. And that includes his juice box.

"Here, let Mommy help." I reach out for the juice box and he hands it to me almost instantly. He sips and continues to watch none other than Superman on his tablet.

Silently gazing out at the unknown, I almost fell off my chair when a dog on a leash came straight to our table. Hunter giggled when the dog playfully licked his feet and was about to feed him his fries.

“Hunter, no. Don’t feed him anything. We don’t know if he’s allergic or not.”

I mean, who can be allergic to potatoes? It’s better to be sure than sorry. The dog doesn’t look like a stray at all. With his well-groomed coat, clean collar and almost brand-new leash, it must’ve strayed from its owners. Keeping Hunter in his seat is hard to do when there’s an animal involved. He loves everything that moves. And you’re still not sure about the dog not being aggressive.

I stood between the panting dog and Hunter and laid out my palm. The dog licked it and his body language suggests he’s a friendly one.

"Hi, buddy. How did you get here?" I looked at both sides of the establishment, checking if someone’s running and looking for a missing dog but unfortunately, there’s none.

The dog looked up, his eyes somehow begging for something. When I spread out my palm and poured some water on it, he immediately indulged himself. I give him a pat on the head when he’s done.

"Mommy, he looks so cute. Can I play with him?"

The dog looked up at you and at Hunter with puppy eyes and you couldn’t say no. After giving him the go signal, Hunter played with him. The dog is also well-trained to be behaving that good around a kid.

"Can we keep him Mommy?" Hunter said, casually chewing his fries.

"Well, baby, he's got a family out there. He's just lost. We'll wait with him so his family can pick him up, okay?"

Hunter looked sad for a minute but the dog's companion paid off. The fluffy bear is really gentle towards him and would lick his face nonstop. It’s too precious to even pass up so I whipped up my phone and started recording a video of Hunter giving commands and rewarding the dog with a french fry. I can’t help but smile at how adorable and genuine the interaction is.

"I'm going to call you Floof." Hunter said and kissed the dog's head.

"I'm sure that's not his name." I suppressed my laughter and took one last photo before giving Hunter the inevitable news. Sure enough he's going to cry for days once the owner comes back to pick Floof up.

It's been two hours since you've waited and no one came. The next thing I’ll have to do is to have him checked for a chip since his collar doesn't really tell anything. I’ve searched and the nearest vet clinic is only 15 minutes away. With all the risks that you’re taking here, I hope Floof comes home safely.

Your son is still hugging the ball of fluff when you arrive at the clinic. They checked his weight and temperature and made sure nothing was wrong. Then proceeded to ask questions about what happened. The checking of the chip didn’t take long and was done in five minutes but then the clinic staff mentioned it might take an hour for the owner to arrive since his location is too far away.

"Mommy, can I play with him while we wait?" Hunter pleaded, his eyes on the verge of tears, knowing he would have to leave his new found friend.

Yes is the only answer he would accept right now. I smile as the dog playfully wrestles with him. Hunter always wanted to get a dog but timing is far from perfect. With the homeschooling and your work at home set up, having a dog feels a bit too heavy on my plate.

For what feels like an eternity, both of you waited with heavy hearts. Moreso with Hunter than I. But the lovable floof made its way into your heart and you can’t deny the fact that you’re sad too. The clinic staff mentioned the owner is only minutes away and will be able to pick up the dog in no time. With the owner's location and assuming they lived far away from here, the chance of Hunter seeing the dog again is slim to none.

"Hunter, he needs to come home to his family, okay? But you have one last chance to hug him."

And he did, gave him so many kisses too. When a black pickup truck arrived, you knew it was the owner and it was time. I smiled at Hunter, reassuring him everything will be okay as the owner walked straight to the desk, not noticing the dog in the corner.

Still ensuring Hunter about what will happen, I wanted to talk to the owner about what happened but when I look up, the wind is knocked out of me.

This cannot be happening right now.

I’m sweating profusely and can't deny the fact that I wanted to puke. Right then and there. Out of all the dogs in the world, Henry Cavill is the owner of the dog my son fell in love with.

"Hi, mate! The vet mentioned you kept my buddy safe while I'm away." Henry smiles and even though I’m standing far enough from him, I can still feel how genuine that smile is. He must have been really scared about his dog being lost.

Henry looked really good when he was younger but there’s just something about him that reels you in. His simple white shirt and jeans combination is too much to handle. He's wearing sunglasses that made him look like a model straight out of a magazine. I noticed a signet ring in the same hand he’s holding his cellphone. So much has changed yet it's still the same.

Henry stooped down at Hunter’s level when he realized he’s actually speaking to his favorite superhero, Superman. Hunter smiled at you, beaming with that same energy Henry’s smile has.

“Mommy, he’s Superman! He’s Superman!” Hunter couldn’t stop himself and clung to Henry’s neck, hugging him hard and he did the same.

Just by looking at them, there’s some serious memory whiplash. I swear the nights Henry and I spent just flashed back in front of my eyes. That night was kind of a blur but your curse if remembering every second of it.

"Yes! I named him Floof." Hunter squealed, answering Henry’s question, his gap tooth showing. "Mommy said he needs to go home to his family. Are you his family?"

Henry nodded and looked up at me. His eyes are always a dead giveaway and I immediately knew he recognized me and I wished he didn’t. It will be extremely hard to sleep tonight.

"Did she, now? Well, his name is Kal and looks like you're already best friends. Can you keep Kal company for a few more minutes? I need to talk to your Mom."

Hunter nods and even when everyone’s all smiles, anxiety is crippling me from the inside. I wished I hadn’t felt this way but things took an unbelievable turn and I just hope he’ll thank me for keeping Kal safe and nothing more.

"Riley, wow! It's been what? Five years?" Henry smiles with his eyes and that’s one of the things you love about him. His boisterous laughter are not match with how his eyes light up when he sees something he likes.

My hands are getting clammy and it’ll be too rude offering wet hands to him, so instead I just smile and nod.

"Six years, to be exact." It’s hard to keep my hands to myself at this point.

“Really? Six years have passed and I didn’t even hear a single word from you.”

Well, you’re the one who left. My mouth wanted to say but my brain can never process. Talking about each other’s past is just too awkward for you but definitely not for him.

"It’s been forever since I saw you and the first time since forever that I bumped into you, you have a son? That’s really great. You’re raising him so well to be an animal lover.”

I smile and contemplate his words. And I wanted to tell him all his traits, Hunter inherited. Even the small mannerisms with his face when he’s listening to someone or something. I wanted to tell him the truth but at the same time, I wanted him to know nothing at all. So far, he hasn’t noticed anything suspicious even though he’s looking at his minime.

"It was really nice seeing you. Maybe we can hangout for a bit, so your son and my dog can hangout too." He smiles at both you and Hunter. Smiling back, I can’t even look him straight in the eye.

"Okay, Hunter, time to say goodbye." I stood up beside him and ruffled Kal's hair. Hunter hugged Kal tightly and Kal seemed to do the same and gave him extra sloppy kisses.

Everything seems to be going well when Hunter’s super observation skills surfaced.

"Kal's eyes are brown. They're not like mine."

Of course, Henry being the sweet human that he is, stopped and indulged the boy.

"Why is it?"

"Well, mine's blue. But I guess we're the same in one tiny part."

"Really?"

"My eyes are blue but my left eye has some streaks of brown in it. Just like Kal's brown eyes. Mommy said I got it from my Dad. Did Kal get it from his Daddy too?"

Oh my God. Having a smart son has his disadvantages sometimes. I mean it’s totally fine. There are a lot of men with blue eyes, the other eye with streaks of brown in them. The only problem is you’ve had sex with only one.

I just want the ground to eat you whole and spit you out in the middle of the Caribbean ocean. I can’t even look him in the eye. I can’t do this right now. I kept my head bowed down with the sole intent of shutting Hunter’s mouth before he could say anything way worse.

"Where's your Daddy now?" Henry’s curious voice wrapped you like warm silk. Wrapping you until you’re gasping for air.

"Mommy said he's not around. I really haven't seen him." Hunter fidgets with his fingers.

I nervously chuckled at Hunter’s words and decided to take the matter in my own hands. I gently coaxed and bribed him with more of his favorite food when he got home.

"Alright, honey, let's get going. Gramma will pick you up in a few."

Hunter waved incessantly at Kal and Henry while you both walked to the car. Henry somehow kept up and after fastening Hunter's car seat, Henry’s head against the half-up car window.

"Riles, we need to talk."

Hearing him call me that same pet name brought back a lot of emotional baggage I’ve been trying to get rid all this time. The tinge of desperation in his voice makes it even worse. Without saying anything, I gave him one last nod and left without answering. Keeping the tears at bay, you kept your eyes on the road or else you’ll fall apart.

#henry cavill #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill fic #one shot #rpf fanfic #khaelwrites #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #daddy!henry cavill x reader

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thatshithurted8 · 3 years

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jeff wittek imagine where the reader and jeff go on vacation together like to vegas or miami???

Holiday

Summary: Throughout your mini holiday in Miami with your boyfriend Jeff, he realizes just how special you and your relationship are.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warning: Tooth rotting fluff, mention of alcoholism and Jeff’s accident

A/N This is also inspired by KSI’s song Holiday!

I wanna wake up every mornin', feelin' better 'Cause I know you're sleeping by my side And every moment we're together I remember just to keep it all for you and I

Jeff’s brown eyes slowly open, being awoken by a crying baby that was a few rows behind you two. He lets out a yawn before looking over at you who were fast asleep on his shoulder.

Something that not a lot of people knew was that Jeff hated flying despite being a certified skydiver. Ever since he was younger he was never a fan of flying, only now he was a bit more comfortable with it due to his experience skydiving. Nevertheless his initial nerves after waking up quickly wash away just from being in your presence.

Wanting to capture this seemingly perfect moment, Jeff slowly grabs his phone out of his pocket without disturbing you and takes a quick picture. As he analyzes the picture his heart swells at how at peace and comfortable you looked sleeping on him and in one of his sweaters. The two of you were extremely tired from catching a red eye flight to Miami so no wonder why you both fell asleep.

Saving the picture Jeff puts his phone away and slowly opens the blind of your window seat. The rising sun shines into your row, the rays illuminating your face making your features and long lashes more prominent. The purpose of the trip to Miami was to watch the Logan Paul vs Floyd Mayweather fight. In fact you were ecstatic when Jeff told you he got you guys tickets to the event since you grew up watching boxing with your family and you were a huge fan of Mayweather. With that being said you had no idea how close the tickets Jeff got were to the ring.

Jeff’s breath hitches as he admires you. He was so in love with you and was so excited to see your reaction to being ringside. As Jeff softly moves some stray hairs out of your face he realizes everything he does is for the benefit for not only you, but your relationship as well. It was you two against the world.

I see that body in the sunlight Feelin' the heat and it feels right I wanna do this for the rest of my life

“I know you guys are dating and all, but you seriously need to stop staring before you sink the boat with your drool.” Mike Maijlak says walking over to Jeff’s side and handing him a La Croix.

Jeff booked your mini holiday to last a few days before and after the fight which gave you guys the opportunity to explore Miami and let lose. With that being said neither of you were going to turn down Mike’s invite to join him on a yacht to party. So there you were talking and dancing with some girls you knew from LA while sipping on a La Croix.

Jeff lets out a laugh while opening one of his favourite drinks. “I can’t help it man, just look at her.” He says taking a sip of the bubbly liquid while continuing to admire you from afar.

The Miami sun that shined onto your skin paired with your infectious laugh, seemingly gave you a golden glow that made you standout. Not only that, but the bikini that you were wearing flattered your body type so well.

After feeling as if someone was staring at you for the past few minutes you finally turn and look around the boat to find the owner of the eyes that were on you. Quickly your eyes find Jeff’s brown ones and you realize it was just Jeff staring at you the whole time, causing heat to wash over your body at his gaze.

You shoot him a smirk and wink in return before turning back around to continue your conversation. A smirk of his own falls upon Jeff’s face as you do so, along with a light shade of pink on his cheeks.

“You’re so whipped.” Mike laughs shaking his head, finally speaking up after watching the whole interaction.

“Well I wanna be whipped for her for the rest of my life then.” Jeff says without realizing how big of a statement that was while his eyes remained on your beautiful figure.

Oh, I know, I know, you know the vibe I wanna stay with you every night You and me underneath the lights I'm always good when you're by my side I know, you know you're on my mind You really make me come alive I wanna be here for the rest of my life

“Jeff look at my hands I’m literally shaking I can’t believe we’re this close!” You exclaim while glancing between your boyfriend and the boxing ring in front of you.

“Only the best for you doll.” He says sending you a wink while laughing. For the past hour and a half as you two watched the undercards you continued to gush about your seats making Jeff happy to see you happy.

Without wasting another second you roughly grab Jeff by his green shirt and pull him in for a passionate kiss. Just before the brunette could immerse himself into it fully you pull away. Some of your lipstick was smudged and Jeff knew without a doubt he had some on his lips, but he didn’t care. In that moment it truly seemed as if you two were the only ones there under the rings bright lights and in an arena full of screaming fans while you two stared into each others eyes lovingly.

Your attention on your boyfriend is torn away when the already loud arena becomes even louder as Mayweather starts to walk out. Quickly you start to cheer for your favourite boxer while jumping up and down and clapping excitedly. Jeff glances between you and the boxing legend before his gaze finally lands on you.

You look over at your boyfriend with a smile that was from ear to ear. “It’s Floyd fucking Mayweather!” You exclaim pointing over to the undefeated boxer entering the ring.

A smile washes over Jeff’s face as he laughs at your excitement. You truly resembled a child in a toy store. Seeing your excitement only made Jeff more excited, causing him to join in on cheering for Mayweather despite being friends with Logan.

There was no one else Jeff would rather be with to witness the fight and this thought only made him realize he wants to be by your side for the rest of his life.

Looking for sun rays, needin' them good days Fly me away-away, you're my holiday Cool like the ocean, lost in emotion Fly me away-away, you're my holiday Whenever you're here it's a good time Strawberry shirts in the sunshine Ice-cold drinks 'til the moonlight You're my holiday Whenever you're here it's a good time Strawberry shirts in the sunshine Ice-cold drinks 'til the moonlight You're my holiday

The next few days after the fight was a whirlwind, but in a good way. Despite having a good time underneath the Miami sun and it’s nightlife Jeff wouldn’t be having as good of a time if you weren’t there. You truly made the trip for him, making the sunny days that were good for his mental health even better and the dreary days full of life from your infectious positivity and smile.

You let out a loud laugh as you and Jeff wrap your arms around each others, mimicking a toast before brining your drink to your lips while your boyfriend did the same. At the same time you two sip at your virgin drinks while maintaining eye contact with each other in the close position. You gulp down the rest of your cold drink despite it being alcohol free before untangling your arm with Jeff’s and ordering another at the outside bar.

Over the past four years of knowing Jeff the two of you created a special connection that no one in your friend group had with each other. And that was being sober. Jeff turned to alcohol after his break up with his ex girlfriend while you on the other hand turned to it to deal with the death of your mom. To say you were there for each other was an understatement. When the temptation to drink was too much Jeff would call you up and the two of you would go on late night hikes and talk about everything and anything, and vice versa for you. There was always a mutual pining for one another, but neither of you acted on it due to how broken you both were at the time. However, as the years went by your feelings only intensified along with Jeff’s. Though it wasn’t until a few months after Jeff’s accident when he took a leap of faith and finally confessed his feelings to you after realizing how short life truly was.

Jeff places his glass on the bar as well, placing his hand on the small of your back while looking around the crowded club that was partly inside and partly outside. Once you get a refill of your drink you turn around sipping on the paper straw, your back leaning against the bar causing Jeff to redirect his attention back to you.

“You look beautiful.” He says looking down at you in his arms.

Heat washes over your face and Jeff’s smile widens at how flustered you still got after all this time together. He loved showering you in words of affirmation and he meant every thing he said to you. Although, you always look beautiful the way the moonlight reflected off of your skin made you look angelic. It was a great contrast to you earlier in the day at the beach wearing a strawberry printed bikini that made Jeff feel a certain way.

“Thank you baby you don’t look too bad yourself.” You say placing a soft peck on Jeff’s lips before pulling him towards the dance floor.

I wanna stay up 'til the mornin' with you talkin' Just to listen to the things you say And every time we're in the middle of the city I imagine us so far away

The two of you sat down in a booth with Mike Majilak and Logan Paul at a random Denny’s that was in between your hotel and the club you four were previously partying at. By now the jet lag and the numerous activities you and Jeff participated in was starting to catch up to you. However, that wasn’t apparent to anyone other than Jeff as you talked the boys ears off while eating.

“We’ll see you guys later! And once again Y/N text me when you’re free to film an episode of ImPaulsive.” Logan says as him and Mike get out of the booth, placing money on the table and getting ready to leave the restaurant.

“Of course!” You exclaim before picking up your lemonade and drinking what was left. Jeff bids his goodbyes to the two influencers and once they leave you quickly rest your head on his broad shoulder, letting out a loud sigh.

“You okay doll?” Jeff asks placing his hand on your thigh.

“Yea just tired.” You say kissing his neck and placing your hand on his cheek. Similar to Jeff you were able to pick up on the energy of situations and that affected how you acted. So once Mike and Logan left you felt as if you could finally wind down from their partying aura.

A comforting silence falls upon you two and your eyes slowly flutter close as the rising sun shines in through the Denny’s windows. As cliche as it sounded Jeff felt as if it was only you two in the quiet breakfast place. The brunette rests his head against yours and his eyes follows your lead by shutting close.

The two of you remain in this position for a few minutes, cherishing not only the first quiet moment of the trip, but also the little moments you two shared.

Ooh, ooh Ooh, you're my holiday

Scratching at his eyes and stretching Jeff slowly and quietly gets out of bed, the sun filtering in through the hotels curtains and onto your sleeping body. You looked so peaceful and he didn’t want to disturb that. Once you guys returned to your hotel room from a night out partying and a very early breakfast at Denny’s the two of you instantly fell asleep.

Jeff glances at the analogue clock on the bedside table which read 2:34pm before he slips on a pair of pants and a t-shirt. Making sure to not wake you Jeff grabs his phone, wallet and room key then quietly leaves your shared room. However, before he leaves he makes sure to place a gentle kiss on your forehead and whisper to you how much he loves you.

Throughout the trip he was constantly reminded of how much he loved you. You helped him through some of the darkest times in his life and after all this time of knowing and being together Jeff finally knew what he had to do.

Remembering a shop that was a few buildings away from your hotel, Jeff quickly walks over to it wanting to be back before you woke up. The Staten Island native hands become clammy as he approaches the store, his tough guy persona seemingly crashing down with every step he took.

The bell above the shops door dings as Jeff walks in causing a sales representative to walk over to him with a welcoming smile.

“Good afternoon how can I help you?” She asks. Jeff takes a look around the quaint shop and all of the glass casings before redirecting his attention back to the worker.

“Hi uh yea, I was wondering if you guys have any engagement rings?”

#jeff wittek #jeffrey wittek #jeff wittek imagine #jeff wittek fluff #jeff wittek angst #jeff wittek smut #jeffs barbershop #jeff fm #jeff wittek x reader #jeff wittek x you #mike majlak #logan paul #fic recs #vlog squad

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minniethemoocherda · 2 years

Text

Five times Cody did not tell Obi-Wan what he was thinking plus one time that he did. (Chapter 1)

Summery: Snapshots of Cody and Obi-Wan growing up together over the years.

Ao3

Logically, Cody knew that high school was going to be different. That unlike in middle school, he wouldn't be guaranteed to have most of his classes with his brothers.

Still, he hadn't expected it to happen on the first day in his very first class. He glanced around as he entered the science lab. It wasn't that much different from the one in his old middle school with out of date posters hung up on the off-white walls and rows of two seated desks lining the room. There weren't many people he recognised from his old school and the few he did he could barely remember the names of. So he sat down at one of the empty pairs of desks, hoping that there aren't going to be many more people joining the class so that he could sit by himself. But of course, the universe was against him that day.

Students started piling into the room as the bells rung and Cody kept his gaze firmly on the desk to avoid catching eye contact with anyone.

"Hello there."

Cody startled at the nearby voice. He glanced up to meet the pale blue eyes of a boy with soft ginger hair and a sprinkle of freckles across his nose.

He was pretty, a voice at the back of Cody's mind supplied, which was odd because he had never thought of a boy as pretty before.

"Can I sit here?" The boy asked, a faint British accent to it, that only added to Cody's impending shock.

When Cody continued staring, the boy shifted nervously which was when Cody released that all the other seats in the class were taken.

"Sure." He nodded, trying to smile because Rex had always told him he had a resting bitch face and it probably would do him some good to make friends at this school outside of his brothers.

The boy smiled back, sliding in the chair next to him.

"I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi." He introudced himself, holding out a hand.

Cody took it, the pale skin almost glowing agaisnt his darker tone. With his soft features and prim tone, Cody was expecting his hands to as equally delicate. Instead, his palms were hard and his shake was firm with not so subtle strength. Its then that he relates that there is much more to this boy than meets the eye.

"Cody Fett-Ti." He replied.

"Fett-Ti?" The boy- no Obi-Wan asked with a raised brow. "I was going to ask if you have a twin because there's a guy in my homeroom who looks identical to you. Although I could've sworn his last name was Koon?"

"I do have a twin." Cody confessed. "But since he's in my homeroom, your probably thinking of one of my half brothers."

"Oh really? Sorry I didn't mean to pry or anything." Obi-Wan appologised.

Cody waved him off.

"Don't worry about it. There's a lot more of us. Dad wasn't very good at keeping it in his pants." Cody winced. A voice at the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Rex, scolded him for being an oversharing idiot. But before he could panic too much, Obi-Wan burst out laughing. The other boys cheeks burnt red and Cody was fascinated by how it completely blocked out his freckles.

"I have two siblings but they're not in high school yet." Obi-wan told him once he'd caught his breath, stiffly diverting the topic away from his father's love life which was probably for the best. Despite only being fourteen, it is something Cody already knows way to much about.

Obi-Wan unlocked his phone holding it out towards him. Cody looked at screen. On it is a picture of Obi-Wan with his arms around a scowling tween and a little girl with patches of vitiligo on her beaming face.

"They're adopted." Obi-wan told him, even thought it's pretty obvious with how they have no physical resemblance to eachother.

"Cool." Cody said because he of all people could relate to families being complicated. But before he can open his mouth to tell him as much, the classroom door slammed open.

The sharp clap of heels rung out agsint the slick floor as the teacher entered the room. She shut the door abruptly, bringing the chatter down to near silent within seconds. Her sharp blue eyes contrasted with the dark of her skin, piercing each of them with a stare. She came to a sudden stop behind the desk, surveying the class with intent. She came to a sudden stop behind the desk.

"My name is Ms Gallia. This is Freshman biology. If you are in the wrong room leave now."

Nobody dared to move.

"Good." She stated, tucking a stray braid behind her ear and Cody was suorised to catch a steak of purple underneath it. "Now, the person at your desk will be your lab partner for the rest of the semester. No exceptions. I want one person from every pair to get out a bunson burner from the cupboards. And no pushing!"

Obi-wan turned to him, the corners of his lips turned up in a half smile, half smirk.

"I guess we're partners then."

For some reason Cody liked the way the word sounded on Obi-Wan’s lips. He told himself we was glad to have been able to make a new friend. And he was. He had actually enjoyed talking with Obi-Wan. Plus this might have been the first time in a while that he had been able to hold a semi-normal conversation with someone who wasn't one of his brothers. Rex would be proud.

Cody didn't say any of that to Obi-Wan though. Instead he shrugged in agreement.

"Looks like it.' He said before getting out of his chair to go find whatever a bunion burner was. Not knowing until years later, what that conversation would lead too.

#codywan #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #star wars #the clone wars #tcw #sw #commander wolffe #commander bly #rex #captain rex #adi gallia #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #modern au #sins of the past

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miekasa · 3 years

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any dad!levi hcs for father’s day today🥺🤲🏽

Absolutely!! I’ll do this I guess using the kids I have for him in my parent au? If you’ve read that, you know about Holden, but there are two more so prepare to meet them :’) happy father’s day to Levi <33

To begin with, you guys would plan to have your kids (to the best of your abilities; you were intentionally trying to have kids at a time when you both knew you were ready for them.

Although accidents to do happen, and Levi would welcome an unplanned child all the same; that being said, if you’re both want a family, you would have discussed it beforehand (which is to a degree, is a lot about mental preparation for himself).

In his perfect world, he’d have two daughters. They’d be equal parts him and you, and they’d be quiet and curious and lovely and life would be good. He’d spend his days with you and his two tiny daughters, raising his little family and doing all he could for his favorite girls.

So, naturally, he does get two daughters, but also a son in between; and the latter two kids are far from easy in their own unique ways lmfao

You might have already met Holden, and she’s the oldest in my dad Levi au, and the most like him. Levi’s dark hair, his grey eyes, his overall unimpressed visage, his knack for cleanliness and organization—down to the way she holds her sippy cups, she’s damn near Levi’s doppleganger.

Holden is somewhere between 3.5-4 years old before you have your second kid, and in that time is when Levi confirms he thinks he was cut out to be a certified Girl Dad.

Both Levi and Holden take quality father-daughter time very seriously. It’s impossible to change plans once they’re set: “Daddy, you promised we would go to the famer’s market on Sunday. You pinky promised.” And Levi wouldn’t dare break a pinky promise, so he makes time for it.

Levi doesn’t play favorites with his kids, but there is something special about Holden as his first born. He’s constantly in awe of just how much she resembles him. Four years into raising her and it’s still hard to wrap his head around.

Much to his chagrin, Hange and Eren are Holden’s favorite adults. Maybe Levi understands the admiration for Hange, but Eren... come on, Holden, you’re breaking his heart at that point.

It’s almost out of character for your daughter to be so openly affectionate about someone outside of your immediate family, but she really loves having Eren as a babysitter; and you know she’s playing favorites, because she remains neutral on Armin, even though he and Eren always babysit as a duo.

She doesn’t have a favorite grandparent, but Kenny spoils her the most. Levi tells him he shouldn’t, but when has Kenny ever listened to Levi. The man isn’t a fan of kids, but he thinks yours and Levi’s are pretty cool, and Holden is about the coolest 4 year old he could ever meet.

When she was learning to walk, Levi’s favorite thing was holding her little hand and guiding her around. Even now, when she can stand perfectly fine on her own two feet, Levi loves it when she reaches for his hand; Holden is a pretty independent kid, even at 4 years old, so Levi never takes affection from her for granted.

They’re best friends and Holden goes everywhere with him. Their favorite father-daughter activity is going to the grocery store, and Levi lets Holden point to and assess her favorite fruits and veggies while she sits happily in the shopping cart.

Sometimes there are other parents struggling with a kid throwing a temper tantrum. Levi simply clicks his teeth, while Holden shakes her little head. “That’s pretty embarassing, daddy,” she says, looking at the poor parent with an unamused glare that rivals Levi’s. He nods and pushes the cart past the scene, “Tell me about it, kid.”

Your second kid is a boy, and he looks more like you than Levi, but manages to have Levi’s signature hair color and pout when things aren’t going his way.

He comes as a shock to both you and Levi, because after your ultrasound, you were told you were having another girl. Turns out, they’d accidentally mixed up your files, and you were having a boy instead, which you do not find out until your mid-term check up a few months later. Cue Levi buffering like an old computer.

Kiaan is welcomed all the same, even tho Levi is still in disbelief; he was mentally preparing to have another daughter on his hands. He puts more pressure on himself with his son; not that he wasn’t trying his best to be a parent to Holden, but any insecurities he might have about being a good come out when your son is born, because Levi has no “man of the house” example to follow from.

You reassure him that your son will turn out to be just fine, and raising him the way you raised Holden, and would have raised another daughter is perfectly acceptable. Of course Levi rises to the occasion after the initial shock; he’s determined to be the dad to his son that he never had.

Where Holden is more reserved, Kiaan likes to talk and babble about anything whenever and wherever he can, to whoever is around. It’s not uncommon for you or Levi to find your son completely entertained by telling a story out loud to himself while playing with his toys.

Loves to rope Levi into making his toys interact and have “conversations” with each other, and Kiaan genuinely thinks his dad is hilarious, even if he doesn’t completely understand what he’s saying. It always makes Levi smile to hear Kiaan try and copy the bass and tone of his voice when he’s mocking him.

Kiaan loves messing with his dad, and Levi’s all talk, so of course he lets him. He’ll be on a Zoom meeting for work, and Kiaan will be sat in his lap, running little toy cars across the desk in front of him, or tugging on Levi’s hair, and Levi just lets him. It makes quite the cute sight, and Hange has definitely taken a few screen recordings.

That being said, your son is more of a mama’s boy than anything. Kiaan loves messing with Levi, but if you’re in the room, there’s a 95% chance he’ll be on your lap or at your side shadowing whatever you’re doing.

Kiaan is a universal copycat tho, so whatever you, Levi, or Holden say or do, he tries for himself. This makes him especially susceptible to repeating Levi’s foul language and bad habits than Holden. (“Kiaan, you can’t sleep on the chair, it’s not good for your back.” “But daddy sleeps on the chairs sometimes!” “...Alright kid, you got me there.”)

He’s a very loving kid with his words, too, always thanking people and proclaiming his love, so he doesn’t exactly have a “favorite” adult or babysitter, but he does get particularly excited when Erwin or Farlan come around. He feels especially tall when Erwin lets him sit on his shoulders, and Farlan always entertains his story-telling.

He’s a sucker for his grandma though, and gives Kuchel a million kisses whenever she comes around. Does not let go over her for the entire time she’s over at your house, and will sit on her lap throughout dinner.

The most affectionate child, so where Holden only likes holding hands, Kiaan loves cuddling with you and Levi, and likes to be held whenever possible. Levi spoils him a little too much, and more often than not, if you’re walking outside for more than two hours, Kiaan will end up on Levi’s shoulders or in your arms.

Your last kid is another girl, and, yeah she’s just a baby no older than a few months, but Levi can’t help but think she’s especially tiny, and he can’t help but to look at her and hold her whenever possible. Your baby girl also leaves Levi a little dumbstruck because she manages to look like a combination of you and his mother.

As she grows, it becomes apparent that you’ve got another daddy’s girl on your hands. Doesn’t matter if you’re literally breast feeding her, Aria will throw a tantrum if she’s separated from Levi for more than an hour.

The good news is, her sleep cycle is as irregular as Levi’s, so he’s got someone to keep him company when everyone else has gone to bed for the evening. Unfortunately, this also means Aria naps a lot during the day, which leaves Levi a little bored since Holden is old enough to be in school full-time, and Kiaan is gone for at least a portion of the day.

So, he would never tell you, but sometimes he wakes Aria up from her naps just a little bit early to spend more time with her (and cure his boredom). Having an infant trying to grab at his hair with her ravioli sized baby fists while he tries to cook lunch certainly makes the task more difficult, but it also adds welcomed color to his day.

You and Levi have to hold Aria constantly when she’s awake or else she’ll cry (although, if you leave her in the arms of her siblings, she does settle down, too); that, or she’ll find her tiny baby hands somewhere they shouldn’t be. Like dipped in a jar of strawberry jam. Or peanut butter. Or both.

Levi talks to his kids like he would any other adult, so it’s not uncommon to find him brewing tea with a baby strapped to his chest, narrating the steps to good tea-making out loud to her for her to hear. He swears she can understand him, and he attributes Holden and Kiaan’s growing vocabularies, and the early ages at which they started speaking to this.

Aria will be in her little chest strap thing while Levi’s cooking dinner, and he’ll look down at her like, “Alright, we’re gonna julienne your carrots today. Yesterday we cubed them, but you’ve got grabby hands, so this will give you more room to work with.”

Kiaan loves holding Aria and honestly just being around her, and you and Levi think it’s adorable how he loves to play with her, and how he knows to be gentle with her. He shares a room with her, and loves sharing his bedtime story times, so you or Levi will read them to sleep together.

Holden isn’t crazy about babies, but she’s a good older sister, and Aria seems to be obsessed with her. She crawls and scoots towards her if given the opportunity, and Holden will always look to you or Levi before attempting to hold or lift her up, as if asking permission. She’ll pat Aria’s head to get her to stop crying, or let her play with her hands.

Levi thinks one of the best parts about being a dad is seeing the different dynamics and relationships between your kids. Holden isn’t most physically or verbally affectionate, but she’s still compassionate, and Kiaan looks up to her; and Kiaan is the perfect middle ground, knowing when it’s appropriate to bother (affectionate) Holden, and when to give her space, and curiously hovers around his baby sister, too.

#anonymous #dad levi dad levi dad levi dad levi!!!!!!!!#levi x reader #levi fluff #aot x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi smut #aot imagines

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heiyodream · 3 years

Text

risky.

"The first and last risky thing my older sister ever did was marry your father and take his surname," Hanabi-neechan told him two weeks before her wedding. She dragged him to wrap the hidekimono. His grandfather was meeting up with some old friends, and somehow all the distant female cousins and aunties who used to surround and fuss over his aunt for the past month were nowhere to be seen. "The elders were very, very furious. They had failed to get her to take an interest in one of the distant cousins and keep her within the clan. And she dared to ask that his future children would use the name Uzumaki instead of Hyuuga? It was an audacious, even impudent request. And your father didn't even refuse to become a Hyuuga. Oh, Naruto-niisan will pick stars just for her. But my dear sister was very adamant in her stance, and her demand was granted with much reluctance and on one condition."

"Condition?" Boruto raised an eyebrow.

"Every child with the Byakugan that comes from her and Naruto-niisan will remarry into the clan without exception." Hanabi-neechan placed the carved wooden box containing the chopsticks that would become her hidekimono on top of the pile. "When she was pregnant with you, she prayed day and night so that you were born with blue eyes, as she did when she was with Himawari. But as we can see, unfortunately, Himawari has the Byakugan, for all of my sister's unspeakable sorrow and disappointment. Be thankful you didn't get one, would you?"

Boruto thought about how his mother sometimes looked at Himawari sadly, how her eyes never see the blue seal that protected the Byakugan around his sister's neck, and how she never seemed too pleased when people compliment Himawari's resemblance to her. He always thought it was odd—shouldn't parents like to be told they have kids who look just like them?—but never bothered to ask.

"Does she hate the clan?" he asked carefully, secretly afraid of the answer. "Or the Byakugan in general?"

There was no way her mother hated her clan. She wouldn't take them into the compound every few weeks if she did. Boruto grew up remembering that this clan was also his family, regardless of how bright the contrast of his hair color in their midst was. That he had the same familial duty to his grandfather and aunt as to his father's parents and Iruka-jiji. That if anything terrible happened to his parents, he and Himawari would go to the compound to be raised. This was his legacy, too; Hyuuga was as heavy as Uzumaki.

His mother still interfered a lot in caring for the clan, especially the children. Three times a week, she went to train the children with Jyuuken at the dojo. Once or twice, in an emergency of clan diplomacy with outsiders, she would be sent on missions to accompany his grandfather or aunt.

"Not really." Hanabi-neechan waved her hand casually. "After all, this clan is her blood. We were not raised to hate our own kin. Dissatisfied and sad, always, I guess; on bad days, she objected to the clan rules and disliked them. But that's it. Even so, I saw her having an amazingly big, bright smile on the day she moved in after the wedding." Her tone was filled with nostalgia and soft, almost mushy. "Marriage is good for her."

"Do you think marriage is not good for you that you get married so late?"

Hanabi-neechan's grin almost parted her face. "Ah," she said, amused, almost dismissively. "It's never too late or too old for a wedding."

Boruto wanted to say that she was over thirty, which caused her to be old, but he knew he would get a headlock if he said so, so he kept his mouth shut.

"Not every girl is excited about being a wife," she later stated. "I'm quite happy with the idea of being a bride. Shiromuku is a very gorgerous, lovely outfit. But being a wife and mother comes with obligations and expectations that can put pressure on a person. These two things shouldn't be exclusive, of course, but as the sole heir clan, I am obligated to have at least one sprog. God forbid this long line of family and clanleadership died on my behalf."

She didn't sound bitter or resigned, but neither was she happy, Boruto thought. He knew obligation and its price, how heavy responsibility was on your shoulders, and dutiful wasn't always easy. His mother made sure he knew. His aunt was not made for housekeeping or domesticity like his mother. He was shaped to stir people's minds in interrogation, rough hands pushing forward instead of cradling and nurturing something. And so was Konohamaru-niichan's. They were good, brilliant teachers, but teachers and parents were different.

"Neji-jichan has three children with the Byakugan." Boruto reminded her. "Shouldn't that line continue to him and Takku-nii?"

"He had suffered enough already," Hanabi-neechan said sharply. Her voice left no room for debate. Boruto often heard that tone from her and his mother about Neji-jichan. It was something related to the forbidden topic from their childhood. One day, he was determined to find out. "And that has been discussed before; a billion ryo was not enough to persuade him to approach clan politics other than for a frenetic revolution. After all, Tenten will take her children running across the continent before she lets them be bound by my obligations."

"Oh."

"Don't tell your mother that you know," she said, refusing to meet his eyes, "but ever since she was born, Himawari has been my unofficial heir. She is, to this day, until I give birth to a living, breathing baby with the Byakugan. My dearest sister secretly resents the idea."

"Why?" asked Boruto, confused. "Himawari will still have to marry one of the distant cousins later. No difference." He wondered if his twelve-year-old little sister knew that half of her life was predetermined long before their parents were married.

"The life of the Hyuuga heir—heiress, espicially—is never easy, and the last thing she will give you two is the cloak of hardship and sadness that accompanied us growing up. How relieved she was when we announced the engagement was matched only when she saw what color your eyes were for the first time."

"And you want that for your child?"

"We are both clan children." Hanabi-neechan smiled. "We know how to keep life bright and breezy between responsibilities. Konohamaru knows how to raise an heir. Your father doesn't, and your mother will not have the heart to force him into this tortuous clan politics. Becoming the Hokage's family is hard enough without any other complications."

hidekimono: souvenirs from the bride and groom for guests

#hyuuga hanabi #uzumaki boruto #uzumaki hinata #hyuuga hinata #uzumaki naruto #naruto #himawari #uzumaki himawari #hyuuga clan #boruto: next gen moments #naruhina #konohana

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alluringjae · 3 years

Text

until dawn - ljn

part I | part II

⤑ summary: basic number one rule of the museum is not to touch the art. but no one told jeno that falling for one of them isn’t allowed either.

⤑ pairing: jeno x female reader

⤑ word count: 14k

⤑ genre: fluff, humor, angst | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, college!au

⤑ warnings: jaemin mentions onlyfans as a joke, references to actual historical figures (some try to flirt with jeno lol) and literature, explicit language

⤑ author’s note: wow, i’ve had this idea for almost two years! this one was inspired by one of my favorite childhood movies, night at the museum. it definitely required a lot of research and brainstorming, and finally i brought it to life! it was so fun to play around with the characters, and even if majority of them are real people, this is all still fiction.

i also wanna mention one of my moots, marge for enlightening me about her life as an architecture major.

⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome (dm me if you want to be added)

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Dormitory rent was another thing to worry about aside from the inflated university tuition per semester. Although he’s lucky to have his parents backing him up already on it, paying the monthly rent for his dorm was the remaining objective on Jeno’s list.

Plus, money for food. The man was a heavy eater, following the whole “gym is life” mantra.

Splitting it already with two of his dorm mates turned best friends, Renjun and Jaemin, his plate felt lighter. But the question still lies: where on earth was he going to get the money?

He’s practically checked out every available part-timing job in university and anywhere near campus. Barista at the same café Jaemin works at, teaching assistant for an art school for kids, convenience store cashier, library assistant, all taken in a heartbeat. The burden of his friends paying his debt these past months took a toll on him, almost to the point he almost considered making an Onlyfans.

“Yah, just find something else! Part-timers are in demand right now!” Renjun intensely closed his laptop before his older friend gets any suggestive thoughts.

“I mean, you didn’t work out your body to look the way it is for nothing.” Jaemin pitched otherwise, lifting the front back up. “When do you want to start filming? Loads of chicks would dig a piece of you!”

The contradicting opinions of his friends were like the devil and angel debating on his shoulders. Useless, he gave this worry a rest and returned to drawing new plates. A common thing when you’re an architecture major. Those deadlines were nearing. Looks like he’ll pull another all-nighter again.

Good thing most of his classes were late in the morning until 6 pm.

As if someone from above heard his petition, Jeno saw a help wanted sign posted on the bulletin board outside of the university museum. He initially went there to document some artwork and architecture models from Greek and Roman times, further analyzing how they’re still apparent in modern buildings.

The sign explained the need for one part-timer from any college to cover the night shift of the museum due to the current night guard’s full semester absence. He only had to come in 3x a week, choosing his days since he was still a student. Even the pay was above average, considering that most part-timers never go beyond midnight. Jeno would, on the other hand, always staying for his projects or gaming with the boys. Drinking sometimes during late-night Fridays with his entire college crew.

The pay would leave him a load of extra cash for himself, thus he sent an application to the museum office right before he left. A week later, while he was out with the boys, he got a text from the office that they wanted to meet him again for a final interview first thing on Monday.

Perhaps it was having architecture as his course and a healthy physique that landed him the part-timer position. Mainly, the latter because guards required strong endurance and fighting skills when worse comes to worst. It would start at 9 pm until 6 am the following day, and there was a designated uniform of it too. Blue blazer with matching trousers, white dress top, and loafers.

Aside from the typical museum etiquette the head director instructed him about, there was an unofficial list of tips written on paper given from the night guard on leave when the director handed you over his box of office-related things.

Only read at the night guard office once you’re the remaining staff left.

He did as he was told like an obedient son, flipping the succeeding page.

To my temporary replacement,

This part-timing job is nothing regular than the other jobs. You’ll witness things as you’ve never imagined them to be, almost like witchcraft. You’ll be lost and maybe frightened, or that’s how I felt the first time because no one led me through it all those years ago. Lucky for you, I made this small guide on how to properly take care of the place that the other staff doesn’t know about.

Before you proceed, I request you take a 5-minute stroll around the lobby first to understand what I’m talking about. After such, go back to the office or somewhere quiet then browse through the guide as quickly as you could.

Art is timeless here, so they need to be taken care of.

Good luck!

Park Sanghoon

Night Guard on Leave

Nothing could’ve prepared Jeno for what’s to come once he unlocked the office door. They say that art brings so much color to our life, allowing us to feel all sorts of emotions in a glimpse. But no one ever interpreted art to be literally alive and walking in the halls.

Behold, random wax figures and marble sculptures that he’s seen in the past roamed the hallways, as well as the paintings were interacting with each other side by side. Even the standee of a puppy from the entrance played fetch with one of those sculptures. He swore he looked like Hermes the messenger god from his arrow headpiece and sandals.

It made more sense why the guard on leave explained his feelings during the first day because it resembled Jeno’s. But unlike that guard, Jeno sucked it up. No one ever does well on the first day, even if others say otherwise. The first day was a learning experience, so he collected his thoughts even though the goosebumps triggered his body during that one rotation.

There was an indoor garden, already locked by the day guard earlier. The only room without any art piece, where students lounge to study the plants or relax in nature.

The sculptures section ahead, showcasing various fictional figures specifically from Greek mythology, chattered away about family drama and beliefs. The sculptures of Hades and Zeus, according to their title plate, argued relentlessly about power while Athena always intervened by shouting or even throwing arrows or daggers to any of the lightbulbs there.

That was one rule in the guide, but Jeno didn’t know yet until he came inside the room and swerved the attention of the arguing duo.

“Well, what do we have here?” Zeus, in the center, straightened his posture on his throne to present himself in a more regal way. “Are you perhaps the temporary replacement of Sir Sanghoon?”

“Sir Sanghoon’s stand-in is rather good looking, don’t you think?” Hera mused, stepping down from her throne beside Zeus to take a closer look at the taller male. Her cold fingers trailed his jaw until his chest, where his heart was beating intensely. She even pinched his toned bicep, mouthing wow.

“Truly handsome you are, my dear. So full of life, please introduce yourself to us.”

While Jeno introduced himself to everyone in that room, he answered any sorts of questions they had for him too. From his age, educational background, hobbies, Aphrodite just had to ask him if he had a girlfriend because he was that handsome.

“Nope, I’m single. With my degree in architecture, the requirements are so heavy I can’t even try dating.”

Mentioning his degree excited the gods, telling him how their people created and designed all these temples to house them and perform rituals. They loved it so much. This was a copy-paste of what Jeno learned from his history classes, and for a first, he’s hearing the perspective of the Greek gods.

Mind-boggling that he hasn’t fully freaked out yet. That’s what Athena anticipated when Sanghoon told her about his short leave, putting her in charge of everyone for the meantime while the replacement settled down.

The college museum was built during the late 70s as a gift from one of the alumni. It was for the purpose to preserve history and educate college students outside the classroom. The Greek mythology exhibit was the oldest one, making Athena have more seniority. Over her stay, she’s seen every new guard lose their senses during the first night. Some not even returning for a second night. She got used to every outcome, and so far, only 8 people lasted after the first night. A couple of students in the 70s and 80s, Sanghoon in the 90s, and now Jeno was one of them.

“Jeno, aren’t you terrified by us? You just got a job in a museum that comes to life every night, and it’s not a normal thing.”

“Well, I’m still shaken up about it. But it’s my first night, and it’s when I learn everything about the place from head to toe. Plus, I really need the money.”

“Money for what? But you’re young, a student even!”

“Yes, I am. However, I do pay for the rent in my dorm. So, this job is like my first big responsibility, and I want to perform well.”

Athena commended his sense of authority, capable of leading himself. She noticed how well-spoken and poised he is, respecting and listening to everything the gods and goddesses said even if they were nonsense. She never liked to compromise with her power, taking a while to like Sanghoon back in the day. Though Jeno looked like a natural leader on his first night. If he could take care of himself well, he’s skilled to take care of the rest in the museum as well.

Plus she had full control on the nights he won’t be there, especially the weekend.

With his potential, Athena mentored him the entire night about the gist of the entire museum. Every upcoming leader needs an intelligent mentor, right? She was naturally gifted with worthy leadership skills, managing Jeno like her own child.

Athena explained how the museum came to life, which was through a royal golden plate from the Oriental room. It was a gift from a popular sorceress in China to an affluent family from the Han dynasty, who wished them a long life after she was saved from invaders due to them. The plate preserved over time, becoming an artifact. Its power remained immortal, mutating to bring life wherever it goes. In this case, the museum since its arrival in the late 70s as well.

“That’s why the Oriental room must be locked always so no one could touch or break the plate.”

After she ordered Jeno to lock the mentioned room, alongside the Foreign Art Exhibit Room which he checked out for his class, she led him to the best view of the entire museum. Center of the second floor, where stairs were on both sides. Jeno marveled at the vivacious atmosphere, witnessing actual art living, breathing, and enjoying themselves.

“Unreal, right?” She leaned in the railing, scanning through the chatty paintings.

Jeno also leaned down, deep in thought and wonder. “Absolutely, Athena. How come no one knows about this? Art coming to life? It’ll invite more students to the museum.”

“That goes against a golden rule as a night guard in this museum.” She replied bluntly. “The life that goes on inside this museum at night must remain a secret to the public.”

Jeno predicted this kind of response, having watched too many films where anything supernatural mustn’t be revealed. Although he liked the advantage of knowing something this powerful, he’d never abuse it.

Athena’s intellect was beyond the world, seamlessly reading Jeno’s expression and what he was thinking. He had good intentions even if he’s a bit mischievous. She needed to keep a keen eye on him, but for now, he needed to explore on his own.

“Anyways, Sanghoon still left out some other details. So if you have any questions, I’ll be at my exhibit trying to shut my father and my uncle up again.”

“Can you not use any weapons to do so?”

“Can’t make any promises, Jeno.” She slyly cracked her knuckles and neck as if she was fighting another battle.

Jeno was silently left with himself, finally browsing through Sanghoon’s guide while seated in one of the museum benches.

It consisted of 25 rules, wherein the first two rules consisted of locking up. One, for the doors and gates of the museum, so no art piece could escape. If they do, they will turn into dust when the sun is out according to Athena. Two, locking the Oriental and Foreign Art Rooms, which was already done.

Rule #5: Let Mochi the puppy from the lobby tag along with you; feed him treats if you have any.

On cue, the little guy barked from the corridor and raced to his side. Jeno carried him, babying him for a little and letting him lick his face a few times before putting him back down. He’s surely going to the pet store first thing in the morning with the museum allowance the director gave him.

Since he was on the second floor, he read and followed the rules that fit in before returning downstairs. On the other side of the floor were the wax figures exhibitions: one for prominent men in history while the other for prominent women. Well, more people to get acquainted with.

It’s the exchange of gasps and profanities he received when he chose the latter room. Seeing their faces, these were women he’s learned in school and online. Now in the (fake) flesh. Except for one girl he’s never heard of, unbothered in her corner sketching her life away in a sketchpad. But before he could check who she was, a suggestive touch on his arm distracted him.

“My, oh my, Hera wasn’t lying when she said that the new night guard was a fine specimen.” By her dark blue eyeshadow and eyeliner with the snake-like crown, Cleopatra studied him like he was one of the most renowned art pieces. Even patting his chest, abdomen, and arms with both her hand, Jeno caught a suggestive glint in her eyes and a smirk across her red lips.

Rule #13: Reject Cleopatra’s seductive advances at all costs.

“Goodness, Cleopatra. It’s only his first night, and you’re scaring him.” With her accent, round eyes, and a chic formal outfit, she carried a posh aura while unhesitatingly scolding the Queen of the Nile.

“Come on now, Diana. He’s stunning, who wouldn’t go after him?” If no one knew her, you’re not reading up on your world history. She’s said to have been a lovely and intelligent woman, gone so soon. Jeno definitely understood why after she detached Cleopatra’s raging hands off him.

Rule #14: Treat Princess Diana and Hera like your own parent.

“Your highness.” Jeno nodded at her out of respect, only making her chuckle uncontrollably.

“No need to address me like that, love. Now, come here.” She widened her arms for Jeno, hugging him amiably. He sensed her motherly warmth, accepting such a gesture. “You remind me so much of my youngest son, Harry. Welcome to the night shift of the museum, love.”

Similar to the Greek mythology exhibit, he introduced himself and responded to any questions that the women wax figures may have. Good for him, they weren’t crossing any borders and kept him at ease.

“A student like you working at night to pay rent?” Katherine Johnson, an African-American NASA mathematician whose calculations led to the success of a lot of famous spaceflights, cannot believe her ears. Students must only focus on school, nothing else. “What about your studies, boy?”

Rule #15: Engage in academic discussions with Katherine Johnson whenever you can.

“Most of my classes are in the afternoon, Miss Katherine. So I’ll sleep in the entire morning later and study during my breaks.”

“Mr. Jeno, what do you like to do outside of work?” Anne Frank, a German-Dutch teenager whose revolutionary diary that documented her life in hiding from the Nazis gained popularity worldwide after publication dreamily asked from her section of the exhibit. Her life was robbed of greatness merely because of her religion and war.

Rule #16: Bring delicious food or gifts to Anne Frank.

“Well, I like to bike with my friends, exercise, and draw whatever comes into mind!”

Everyone he’s met so far acquired pleasure in knowing about who he was and his passion for architecture, ridding the “freaking out” phase Athena assumed he had. Yet not everyone in this exhibit bothered to give him a shot.

Jeno’s attention from Anne talking about her crush towards Peter van Daan, a teenage boy who lived with her, switched to the section beside her, where an unacquainted figure was zealously sketching as if something was due to the following day. It reflected how he’d look when he’s cramming one of his plates due to first thing in the morning. While he properly excused himself, he quietly gazed at the way this woman scrunched her eyebrows when she erased something then drew it again. She was someone he’s never seen or heard before, reading the information plate in front of him about her.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N), Explorer and Author. (1854-1900)

Wealthy women in the Victorian Era only served one purpose in society: marry a man from a prestigious family, have his children and join whatever interests they have. However, for (Y/N), she wasn’t going to conform to those standards.

Born into the affluent house of (Y/L/N), she was the youngest of 8 children. She was said to be the kindest and sweetest sibling out of everyone, not capable of hurting anyone or anything. She said it herself that she can’t throw away a dying flower because it’s too painful. While 5 of her older brothers were sent to school, she stayed at home with her 2 older sisters Cecilia and Amelia where she learned how to play the piano and take voice lessons from impressive teachers. Due to the huge age gaps between them (12 and 8 respectively), she never felt close with them. She was only closest to the 6th and 7th siblings, her twin brothers Benjamin and Liam whom she only had a 2-year gap. She was also best friends with one of the scullery maids her age, Lily, because she found her amusing that than the boring rich girls her mother forced to interact with.

The moment it bothered her that she wanted to live a more meaningful life was when Amelia got married. She was 12 years old at the time, and it left her as the last unwed daughter in the family. Badly did she want to revolt, which she gradually did. Instead of practicing piano, she’d sneak in to read every book in her father’s office. She secretly studied the notes of her older brothers from school and even dressed as a boy numerously thanks to Benjamin and Liam to join their classes or field trips.

This was her routine up until the age of 18 when she stomped her foot down and expressed to her parents that she wasn’t going to let Victorian society dictate her. The night before her parents were bound to send her to her great aunt’s home down South to sort her out, she successfully snuck out her house thanks to Lily, Benjamin, and Liam. It’s another good thing that she saved a lot of money for that moment.

Off she went across Europe first, then sailed to America and even parts of Asia. Initially under the name Lilibe, coined from picking the first two letters of her brothers and best friend, she documented her days and nights through her journals and sketches. Over time, she sent them to her brothers for publication. It started the franchise, “The Adventures of the Young and Free Lilibe”. There are 10 books under it.

She learned French, Spanish, Mandarin, Japanese, and Korean by herself as she made friends from those places. It was rare of someone like her to be fluent in Oriental languages, surprising locals every time she spoke to them. She was the only explorer to vividly describe life in different Asian lands in English, talking about their history and culture. With her accurate drawings of diverse citizens and their daily lives, it educated a lot of those living back home in Europe about them rather than speaking lowly of them.

In Seoul did she stayed the longest until her death from pneumonia at the young age of 46.

In her posthumous work, Finding Me, did she reveal her real identity, dedicating it to her parents whom she apologized and expressed her love for them despite everything that occurred between them. She talked about the last years of her life in Seoul, how locals were so nice and inviting to her, and how she adopted kids instead of having her own through the years.

“It’s not because I never found love in men. It’s more like I found love in doing things I’m passionate about. Traveling, learning new cultures, it outweighed the human need of romance.”

Due to her thrill in taking risks and embarking on wondrous adventures, it brought inspiration to a lot of young girls pressured to marry at that time to pursue what they really want.

A remarkable background you had, Jeno contemplated. How come no one discussed her in his classes?

You kept brushing the bangs of your hair back as it fell repeatedly. But you got irritated instantly because it sabotaged your drive, you brought out a hairpin from her desk and attached it on both sides. But when you shifted your angle of focus, the corner of your eye locked with Jeno’s attentive gaze.

He didn’t flinch, even he should’ve. He wasn’t one to linger his look on anyone’s physical appearances, but your story and the passion on your face as you sketched mesmerized him. He was charmed, to say the least.

“Uhm, hello there?” You broke the silence due to your uneasiness about it. What’s his deal?

Jeno bowed, reintroducing himself to you. As soon as his presence settled in the room when Cleopatra attempted to hit on him, you could’ve cared less. Though this man was a first for you, a first in a long time as all guards would feel intimidated by you during the first night. Even your sharp tongue didn’t faze him. “Staring is rude, sir. Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

“She did,” He wandered through the exterior of your section, by the fence that separated you and him. Not breaking eye contact, his eyes turned into moon crescents as he smirked with trouble. “Though she also told me to appreciate the art too.”

Snorts noisily exhaled from Cleopatra, who took the center section of the exhibit, succeeded by Princess Diana’s whispered gasps and Katherine’s side-eyeing Anne beside her while she taught her math. That was an odd way a guard conversed with you, but Jeno was merely doing what the rules stated. Partly, he was impressed with his cheesy pick-up line, partly embarrassed because he’s never spoken like this to anyone.

Rule #17: Act playfully around (Y/N) (Y/L/N) to break the tension; she’s a harsh one.

There was irony between the information he read about your life versus the wax model. Even when you faced sexism and ran away according to your history, never were you impolite to anyone in your life. You couldn’t even kill a lurking fly when it roams around your food! It showed Jeno a possibility that as much as you’re just a wax version of someone famous in the past, maybe the external environment around you had a heavy influence too.

“You fool!” His confidence exasperated you, urging you to persistently throw balls of paper with your failed sketches at him. No one dared to talk to you like that, most especially a night guard. “Take that for your comment!”

If you thought he’d scram away and act repentant, you were proven wrong. His reflexes were parallel to a spider, capturing every single paper ball without fail. Up and down his body went, one arm held on to them and no more were left on your part. Never a single defeat during the first meeting in years, but that seemed to alter now.

“Give up already, Ms. (Y/L/N)?” Jeno remarked vibrantly as he discarded your mess in the trash bin behind him. If he managed to get everyone to like him tonight, he wanted to make sure to have you onboard too.

Whatever agenda he had, you weren’t up for it. You’d treat him the same way you usually treated Sanghoon for the past 20 something years: cold and ignorant. From your stool, you left your comfortable position to come face to face with this man. He better be grateful for that barrier in between you, or else you would’ve caused mayhem.

“Never in your wildest dreams, Mr. Lee.” Your mouth gave a half-smile, clenching on the bars to liberate your annoyance. Before you could fend back, that’s when Princess Diana intervened between your heated dialogue.

“Oh heavens, children!” She stood by the barrier, mostly to protect the newbie Jeno with her body. “(Y/N), he just wanted to know you. Must you be so cross?”

This Princess Diana embodied all the traits the real one had: soft-spoken, intelligent, and protective. She’s gotten so used to your gradual temper, staying on standby whenever anyone tried to mess with you. Even if it was harmless, you could get so mean!

“Diana, he was mocking me! Saying such a sleazy phrase as if to amuse me, ha! Not a chance, I hate people like that.”

“Not us women though; you just despise men in general.”

“And you’re absolutely right!” With a smug smile, you greedily rejoiced. “Anyways, escort this disgrace out. I’m not in the mood to get angry when I have a lot of inspiration on mind right now.”

While you resumed your sketching to let go of that extra steam, Jeno was left with Diana who apologized on your behalf. Your pride was too high to do that, and as the motherly figure among them, she always took care of things in your exhibit.

“I’m so sorry for that, Jeno. She’s not really like this, but I know how much you tried your best. It was quite a fresh spectacle honestly.”

Whatever was responsible for your abrasiveness, Jeno yearned to know. He couldn’t understand who you were yet even knowing your life story. All he wanted was to get along with everyone. It was the key to successfully maintain his job for the next 6 months.

“How can I make her come around then?”

A demanding question that no one had a solid answer to. Diana recalled how much Sanghoon didn’t let your dislike for him get to him, maintaining a respectful boundary in between each other after his past attempts. Though with Jeno, observing how he riled you up and your focus entirely on him, she hasn’t seen anything like it since the 80s.

There was something in Jeno that may just get you to warm up and return to your kind nature.

“Aside from acting playful, as Sanghoon recommended, I can think of two ways, love.” By the doors of her exhibit, where Jeno was already waltzing the corridor to visit other rooms, she suggested smartly. “One, argue back to her opinions. She hates whenever anyone tries to get her way, but boy, you’re just as wise as her. No one was brave enough to peeve on her until you came.”

“How about the second way?”

“Do your research, love. Aside from libraries, you have those small technology devices that allow you to search up anything.” She tousled Jeno’s brown locks as if it were her actual son’s. Some habits just don’t die when you do.

“Brush up on your history, Jeno. Not only will it help you with (Y/N), but it’ll serve purposefully with the other art pieces here.”

Boy, he was ready to crash in his bed for a few hours after all those interactions. His introverted nature required to be revitalized.

Towards the last hours of his shift, the art pieces who’ve strolled in the first floor lessened his plate by not leaving any major clutter behind. As if she listened to him, Athena didn’t break any lightbulbs too.

His main highlight would be meeting the men of the historical male section, who flaunted a more humorous ambiance. Freddie Mercury from Queen insisted he drink a glass of his wine and to bring more wine next time, which he denied since it would against Sanghoon’s rules. King Sejong the Great and Martin Luther King Jr. argued back and forth over the most random things (pineapple on pizza specifically), while Steve Jobs mediated whenever one crossed the line. Meanwhile, William Shakespeare was too preoccupied in his writing and speaking to himself about his books, wondering how to improve them.

During one of his breaks today, he multitasked drawing a new plate with his research on every art piece to know them better. He started with the exhibit of sculptures of the Greek gods and goddesses, which were Zeus, Hera, Hades, Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Poseidon, Artemis, Dionysus, and Circe. They weren’t the complete roster because the rest were in other museums across the globe, as said by Athena before sunrise. The majority of them he knew what they were in charge of, but the rest were foggy to his knowledge. Typing away and jotting notes down, he started downloading his favorite jazz songs too.

Rule # 4: Play jazz music to the paintings on the first floor so they can relax and dance within their frames.

Circe is a minor goddess, the daughter of the sun god Helios. She’s recognized for her versatility in incantations and herbs, capable of transforming people into animals. From Jeno’s perspective, she’s mostly within her space with her journals and magic wand, trying new spells or combinations of herbs. For the latter, he had to keep a closer eye on.

Rule #9: Don’t let Circe, god of potions, into the Oriental Room to get plants and herbs.

He discovered that Dionysus is the god of wine, happiness, and theatre. That’s why every god in the exhibit had full wine glasses during their gathering. It also added up why Freddie Mercury always comes to him when his bottles run empty, though he mustn’t go overboard.

Rule #18: Make sure Freddie Mercury doesn’t get too drunk from the wine of Dionysus; he might make numerous scenes if he does.

After his lone studying session, he took a short trip to the pet and convenience stores to buy food. He got a dumbfounded look from Jaemin back in the dorm room, who was studying for one of his quizzes in Biology in a couple of hours.

“Woah what’s with this stash? Is it for yourself or something?”

“The museum surprisingly has a lot of tasks needed to be done at night. And no, not from my wallet but the allowance they gave me before you get a heart attack.” Jeno plopped on his solo bed, covering his face with a pillow.

“Thank God.” A relaxed sigh escaped Jaemin’s lips, taking back his balled-up fists meant for his roommate. “I think I would’ve stormed that boring museum if they made your broke ass spend a cent.”

“Boring?” Jeno removed the cushion hastily, eyeing his busy and coffee-high roommate. The scent of black coffee from his mug spread in the room, assuming that this upcoming test was testing his roommate’s patience again.

Not even trying to look at Jeno while reviewing his handwritten notes, Jaemin continued giving his opinion. “Museum culture is dead, Jeno. Not everyone has the time to roam around one, plus people can always look up the artifacts online these days.”

People were entitled to their own opinions on numerous things, though Jeno begged to differ with his roommate’s. Especially after witnessing the magic of the night shift, you shouldn’t merely judge a book by its cover. In this case, you shouldn’t judge an artwork or art piece merely on its history and legacy.

Maybe because his roommate was in the science department, he thought this way. A lot of art students regularly visit the museum both for fun and for their classes, and Jeno was one of them. Though he was too sleepy to explain his side, he let it slide for now and snoozed throughout the late afternoon.

An hour before the start of his shift, Jeno promenaded the emptying museum to inspect anything else he might’ve missed out on from last night. There were two areas according to his rotation, both in the first floor.

One was the Diorama Room. Divided into 4 sections, highlighting some of the well-known ancient civilizations in world history. Ancient Egypt and Ancient China to your left, Ancient Rome and Ancient Maya to your right. They acted as if they were the actual people during those times, giving Jeno a laugh when they cracked jokes in between. Such tiny figures, yet the rule for them said otherwise.

Rule # 7: The small figurines in the Diorama Room are feisty, so make sure they don’t fight with one another again.

The remaining room left was the Theater Room. He’s never been here, though his art friends have for film festivals held by the university.

The interior of it was set to look like an actual cinema place you’d see in a mall. There was a mini lobby with a few posters of iconic films over the years. Singin’ in the Rain, Back to the Future, Titanic, those were some framed and hung on the wall. There were two other doors there: one leading to the chairs and the other where the movie projector was. The latter room was pretty riveting, wherein you can choose to watch old short films through an 88mm film projector or switch to a cd player for the newer releases.

Back to those posters, they weren’t an exception to the magic and a simple rule was left for Jeno to do.

Rule # 10: Chatter with the movie posters in the lobby of the Theater Room; they love meeting new faces.

Since there wasn’t anyone checking out the Art Rooms on the second floor, he closed them. Though as he was about to lock the Oriental Room, the ravishing plants around the royal plant appealed his interest. Said to hold magical properties from his research, Jeno was reminded of another rule to keep in mind for later.

Rule # 3: The fake flowers in the Oriental Room come to life too at night, so when no one is lurking, water it diligently.

Instead of lounging at Sanghoon’s office first, he brought his important items to the front desk of the lobby and continued sketching his plate. He wanted to watch the art come back alive with his two eyes. Usually, he’d have coffee when he does his work, but due to another crucial rule in the guide, he’d rather not take the risk.

Rule # 6: The lobby room can get rowdy, so keep any drinks away from important items.

On the dot, the cries and yawns from the art pieces around him reverberated. Closing his sketchpad, his night guard mode was on. Connecting his laptop on the aux cord of the museum speakers, he tapped play on his playlist of jazz music that’ll last for the entire shift duration. As the first notes flooded the entire vicinity, sounds of joy left the lips of each painting. Some were humming, dancing, and even singing along.

“You can never go wrong with Frank Sinatra!”

“This Jeno lad really did the heavens’ work quick!”

Having the sense of accomplishment on his sleeve, the small barks of his fluffy pal reached closer to him. As he kneeled to find him, he was only taken by surprise as Mochi excitedly jumped on him. Tumbling over, Jeno chuckled innocently as Mochi licked his face numerously. This puppy was friendly, easily liking everyone at first sight. He wasn’t as choosy like Daegal, the puppy of his friend Chenle studying Business Management.

Once he composed himself and cradling the dog like his own, he fed him a dog treat from the desk.

“Good boy, Mochi!” He rubbed his fur while the puppy happily munched on it, ready to fulfill more of his duties.

He skipped the Greek mythology exhibit since Athena was doing a good job not letting anyone go overboard with their powers, though he’ll check in again in a few hours. He met the posters of the theater room, who were celebrities he grew up watching on tv. Sanghoon was right; they were the kinder group in the entire museum because they were more laidback.

On to the second floor, all the female wax figures lounged by the male section due to another lecture from Shakespeare. Although the guide informed him that most of the time it could get boring, this lecture was more stimulating. On his platform, he elaborated with conviction the lines of one of his famous books, Romeo and Juliet. A must-read book back in his high school days, there’s no way Jeno could’ve missed that out.

From the looks of it, Jeno perceived that Shakespeare was performing spoken word poetry due to him reading only Romeo’s lines while Cleopatra read Juliet’s beside him. This kind of show was one of the sources of entertainment to these figures, so Jeno leaned by the side of the door to listen. After all, the famous author of it was a few feet away. Cleopatra channeled such a naïve character to her ability, absentmindedly saying as she clutched her chest.

“O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet.”

“Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?”

“'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? That which we call a rose-”

The flow of an engaged Cleopatra was abrupted by the loud yell from Shakespeare in front, specifically to an amused Jeno. “Jeno, my boy! Welcome back!”

Such an announcement diverted everyone’s attention to the back, some running to Jeno to give their respective greetings. It’s rare for everyone to feel at ease with a new guard, taking them weeks to approach them due to the intimidation. Though Jeno’s bright presence felt welcoming, so they accepted it. Perhaps it’s because of his youth, it reminded them of theirs too.

Shakespeare highly requested (or forced) Jeno to take his part as Romeo, intrigued to watch someone younger read his lines. Since most of the male wax figures were aged, it never satisfied Shakespeare so he jumped on this opportunity as quickly as he could. With the roaring cheers from the other figures, Jeno might as well give it a try. It wasn’t like his friends were here to clown him like they usually would if he did something humiliating.

Jeno shockingly liked this activity as he wasn’t much of a performer on stage, but someone who does the behind-the-scenes of it. He realized as he read the lines from the book Shakespeare asked him to follow along with why people held university-wide spoken word shows a few times per semester. He was no actor, but it’s delightful to have tried it at least once in his life.

“O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?” As if the edge of the platform was the balcony of Juliet (or Cleopatra rather), he knelt as he ardently spoke his lines. He’s emphasizing this rush of uncontrollable desire for her, rambling whatever he would do to get the girl.

“What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?” Cleopatra questioned from her chair, inching closer to the young boy. Even outside character will she attempt to charm Jeno, but Jeno was quick to catch it and kept his distance.

“The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.”

“I gave thee mine before thou didst request it, and yet I would it were to give again.”

“Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?”

“But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have. My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”

Everyone was condensed by their top-notch acting, as if this was the actual play unfolding before them. Jeno wasn’t so sure how he got himself in character without preparation, yet he felt what his character felt. He comprehended the material a lot better now than when he was still in high school.

However, there was always that one killjoy to ruin the heartfelt mood.

“How dumb is it to say that you’re in love after the first glance?” You opposed, putting the spotlight on you. This book was said to be a classic in literature, but as you matured physically and mentally, you could no longer agree with it. “Isn’t love the same thing that killed Romeo and Juliet in the end?”

Remembering what Princess Diana told him, he wasn’t going to let this pass. He wanted to give a piece of his mind too, caring less if the show must be paused. “Love is an emotion we don’t ask to feel. It’ll come to us when we least expect it, even when the timing of it can be crucial.”

“Of all the people Juliet could’ve gone for, it just had to be the enemy.” In all the years you’ve been brought to life, no one dared to test your opinions because they were aware of your intelligence, from the streets to the books. When someone bark, you’d bite back. Hard. “With all due respect, I love your works, Shakespeare. Yet the fate you’ve given these two at a young age was grave, could’ve you given them a better outcome or another character to love instead?”

“Giving them extra characters to love won’t address the horrific life fact that love can be dangerous. Regardless of what status you’re in, you can’t stop the attraction towards someone. The heart wants what it wants.” Jeno pressed his hand to his chest, pumping it a bit. Unknown to you and him, the audience found more entertainment in your argument. Anne, who was munching on the popcorn Jeno gave her earlier, passed the snack to Katherine who just couldn’t stop watching.

If this man wanted a challenge, you’re all ears. Who was he to compete with you? Was he not intelligent to know who you are?

“So are you insinuating that we just go with the flow? Be a slave to our emotions too and let them dictate our next motives?”

“Slave is such a strong word to use, (Y/N). But it’s not like we can’t choose who want to love because we actually can. In this case, Romeo chose Juliet and vice versa.”

“But what happens if the person you choose doesn’t choose you in return?”

“At least you tried your best, right? It’ll hurt like hell though, but it won’t last forever.” From his kneeling position, Jeno strutted his way with confidence. Trying not to let it mess with you, your extreme stare at him as if they’ll shoot lasers. Inches away from you, Jeno declared. “Love always has risks, that’s a given. Romeo and Juliet still tried and followed their hearts despite the downfall. But it was a needed downfall to get the message across.”

“No one would be that foolish to risk their lives for love though, right? Life is so precious, why would they do such a thing?”

“Even if they knew what their lives were without each other, they still preferred living a life where they were both in the picture. Therefore, they tried all they could that time because the regret of not doing anything at all carries a heavier burden.”

Whenever anyone argued with you, their debating points they spat back would further piss you off because most of the time, it never made sense. Back when this rude man told you to go home and be a wife in your earlier years of exploring, you civilly told him to fuck off, kicking his balls because he cornered you in an alley. For the first time, a man who tried to challenge you actually made sense. Was it because he lived in a modern time, where minds were more open? Because of the amount of sexism you faced in the past, you’ve turned a blind eye to the current period.

But your high pride maintained, not submitting into anything he said. “I still think it’s stupid to risk your life for love. There’s no such thing as having only one true love anyways, and you have to be alive to see it.”

“Fair point, but again, the feeling of regret and carrying it your entire life doesn’t fade easily. It’ll make you reflect on the what-ifs, and it’s heart-wrenching.” Jeno digressed, walking around you in circles. He’s intentionally trying to drive you mad, but he could care less. He wanted someone to put you in your place and open your mindset. “The question stands: would you rather try and go for it even knowing its risks or regret not even trying for the rest of your existence? Quite ironic for me to ask you that, don’t you think?”

Past the information board, Jeno researched more of your life history online. Your whole life was grounded on risks, from breaking the standards of your society, leaving your family and home country, to fending yourself from disrespectful men. Rather than living the original life expected from you, you chose not to because it didn’t make you happy. Such a risktaker he knew you are, but with the topic of love, he wondered why you were on a fence with it. Though some records stated you’ve had rendezvouses with a few men in your journeys, love was never in the equation. The single life was what you chose and you were more than satisfied, plus your adopted kids filled that supposed void anyways.

This man may have studied your history, but so much he still doesn’t know. Information that never made the books because you chose not to write or tell anyone about it. Aside from the discomfort growing in your chest, everyone else felt the awkward tension when you were lost for words.

Never been defeated in an argument, until tonight. Your mind lost its drive and willpower.

“Touché, Lee Jeno.” Indeed, his name you’re acquainted with. Numerously passed around in your exhibit, mostly from the lips of Cleopatra, who’d fantasize all the graphic things she would do to him. Too much information, least of your interest. “Please excuse me. I’d like to work on my sketches to ease my mind.”

As you quietly exited the room, an all too familiar sculpture leaned against the railings overseeing one side of the museum. Just like you, she hated accepting defeat or compromises. She always rooted for you to win. With a faint chuckle, “Facing a loss for the first time, I see.”

“Don’t even lecture me about it, Athena. I’m still fired up, and I need to relax.”

“Jeno is a different breed, isn’t he?” She stuck to your side, strolling wherever your feet led you.

“Different as in he’s a man? Yes. What else is there to it?”

“Men these days aren’t as trashy as those back in the day though. Shouldn’t you give him a chance?”

“Last time I did, it destroyed my heart. I’m not allowing myself to let men in even as a friend, Athena.”

She knew exactly what you were referring to, not touching on it further. No way will you let heartbreak or disappointment from men bother you. Even Sanghoon’s sweet company took a while to tolerate. You really needed to sketch this out on your pad right now, excusing yourself from Athena’s presence. Isolation wasn’t new to you; it’s what’s protecting your entire being. Immortal as you are, you had to recover from the past pain so the next decades won’t feel as brash.

You hoped to return to your old self when you were a fresh new figure in the 70s. So naïve, only proud of your accomplishments, and purely happy.

While Jeno continued to finish his scene in respect to Shakespeare, he received a standing ovation for his mini-show. Cleopatra didn’t expect such talent from him, growing fonder of the younger male. Whether she seduces him or not, he was never afraid to try new things and she liked that about him.

“Bravo, love!” Princess Diana praised, clapping at him.

Although Jeno appreciated all this positive attention, his thoughts bounced back to your and your stance on love. The debate earlier was just out of being playful, interested to hear your opinions. Though, he’s worried that he might’ve offended you. It may have been time to finally witness something like that, but then again, he was sure he touched something personal to you. No matter how you tried to fight it off, your eyes can’t lie. Staring down at him, there was pain beneath it. Your eyebrows scrunched to the center, thinking deeply yet remained utterly speechless.

A win he didn’t feel good about.

“It’s time she encountered something new in the years she’s been here. Give her some space tonight, then try again to reach out to her. Kindly this time; I’m not in the mood for another brawl that could end up like the Greek gods’ past fights downstairs.”

These clever words shared by Katherine loitered his mind for the rest of the night, eventually going back to finishing his current plate since everyone was behaving well. As great it is to get the approval of the majority, he tried brainstorming ways to make you like him too.

He understood the whole “men are trash” concept in today’s modern society, but if he could prove it wrong to at least one person, it would be you. Whatever is holding you back, he only hoped that you’d let it go. Questionably unsure as to why he was so persevering, he concluded that it was so he could perform his job better as the night guard. Set higher standards than Sanghoon even.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Weeks passed, and his attempts continued to be unsuccessful.

The capability for you to ignore his efforts remained strong, whether he was pestering you over small things or debating with you again about anything. Life, books, morals, the two of you always head butt each other. Anything good he did, you searched for a flaw in it. Whatever acts he’s tried and continued trying, not one flinch from you ever.

Even if that’s his state with you, his job no longer felt stressful nor strenuous. He’d try to sleep more on days he was off-duty. Although the fatigue of staying beyond his usual sleeping time was inevitable, he compromised to take a nap lasting an hour or two when the art pieces weren’t acting frisky.

Plus, there have been multiple times they adapted to any alterations so his physical well-being wouldn’t fall sick. Per order of Princess Diana and Hera, who by instinct became his motherly figures here, only wanting what’s best for the kids.

He became accustomed to everything that went on at night, discovering things on his own without Sanghoon’s guide. Anne talked about how much she missed biking in her neighborhood, so one night, Jeno snuck his bike inside and let her use it around the first floor. With proper monitoring so none of the paintings would be unbothered or pieces wouldn’t tumble.

Hermes the messenger god was fluent in every language possible, so every so often, Jeno would freely speak to him in Korean because sometimes he felt he could explode by the amount of English he used every night. Bilingual things, you know. He knew you were multilingual too, but for obvious reasons, he couldn’t converse with you.

Because Jeno was heavily favored, that should’ve been enough to push through his night shifts before the end of the semester. In addition to that, the hourly rate was above the average of whatever Jaemin or Renjun was earning. For the past 2 months, Jeno paid upfront first, even paying back all his debts. It almost made Renjun want to switch jobs with him.

“Trust me, Renjun. You don’t want it, being the lowkey scaredy cat you are.”

Work no longer felt like work, and that’s what everyone aspired to feel. Nevertheless, he tended to worry over you mid-shift, glancing at you from his side view. Sketching, reading, and writing were your default actions. No matter how many times he said to himself not to let your dislike for him affect him, it’d always backfire.

Why were you so cold?

What made you lose your fire from all the research he did about your lively personality?

When morning arrived and he gathered his stuff, you’d be the last thing he’ll check on. Frozen in your standing pose, smiling as you held a book and a pencil, he detected how fake it was. Bystanders would only assume your happiness was from your achievements, though Jeno’s gut firmly pried that something grand overpowered that happiness. And definitely, not in a good way.

Out of all the art pieces, he investigated on you the most. Skimming through every material in the library, endless searching on the net, even asking professors from the History department thanks to Renjun, he did whatever he could. People may already think he was obsessed with who you are, but only little did they know.

Another plate was done and submitted, and he promised himself to look you up one last time before surrendering. For someone who’s rarely given up on a challenge, this one was really out of his control. Maybe he should follow Sanghoon’s footsteps now.

You lived centuries before him, and there’s limited material of you left. Rather than learning of your adventures again, he dug through what things you liked over your life. Maybe by giving one of them, it’ll lessen the tension from a 100 to 99. Maybe you preferred gifts over words, he’ll never know until he tried.

Boom.

According to one of your journal entries, there’s a fond liking you’ve acquired for lavender roses from Benjamin and Liam when they visited you in Paris in secret because of how much you missed them. It went both ways, praying your family ties could be recovered.

It’s a good thing he needed to refill his stock of items for the art pieces so he could pass by the flower store a few blocks away from his dorm. That night, without further words, he graciously offered you a fresh lavender rose in between your new sketching session.

“I may not know exactly why you’re spiritless around me, but with this rose, I hope we could work something out.”

Your frigid face of disdain, keeping your chin high and squinting your eyes with judgment, began to crumble down. Of all things as a peace offering, he gave you that? Then again, it’s not like he knew that an item you liked so much became something you’ve grown to hate and why so. No history books could teach him that.

Vulnerability was a normal thing, yet feared by many. Once one uncovered your weak spot, they could harm you. You still couldn’t trust Jeno fully, not willing to show your helplessness nor were you ever going to tell him. Hidden from his knowledge, everyone else including Sanghoon were familiarized as to why this kind of flower tormented you.

You sprinted like thunder out the exhibit room to wherever it’s private to control your senses. You may not have a physical heart, but your emotions were just as actual as a human’s. You needed to regulate your panting breath. In the past decades, you’ve not shed a singular tear but the cycle broke when they streamed out your miserable eyes like a flowing river. Quiet sobs, an empty corner near the fire exit was where your wobbly legs faltered, the painful memories of the past replayed in your head. Once beautiful, but now an agonizing reminder of what could’ve been.

Katherine, Cleopatra, and Anne were swift on their feet to hunt you down, anxious of what you may do next. Seeing or the mention of these flowers still affected you despairingly. Sanghoon must’ve forgotten to write them down, or perhaps he didn’t know either about this fact during all the years he’s worked there.

It’s one of the biggest secrets of his museum. By the clueless face Jeno had with his eyebrows raised, mouth, and small eyes slightly open, he repeatedly asked what he did wrong and adding that he never meant to harm you. Indeed, they knew that yet what occurred involved a secret in the list of museum secrets. Confidential only between art pieces according to Athena, none of the male wax figures spoke a word, only pitying the boy.

“I wasn’t here yet that time, but they said that it was once beautiful, but now it’s a rough period.” With hesitation, Princess Diana chose to reveal it to rid Jeno’s misery. She didn’t mind having to argue about it with Athena later on, as this may further affect the two of you later on.

“A long time ago in the early ‘80s, there was a night guard around your age named Junmyeon. Also, a college student, trying to make ends meet. He did it for 3 years until he graduated. Though within his stay, not only was he such a delight to everyone, he broke a golden rule in the guide. I believe you do know the guide much more now, Jeno?”

“Yes, I do, Princess Diana. Memorized it even, but which one specifically?” Jeno’s desperate eyes pleaded, only hoping for the best and to fix what he messed up.

“You can form friendships with the art pieces, but nothing more.” Princess Diana replied bitterly. “Junmyeon was an aspiring painter, a different path from his business-oriented family. He was seen as the black sheep. She resonated with him, sharing the burden and lifting it by doing whatever fun they could in the museum. In time, they both fell in love with each other; they were each other’s first loves.”

“Why must something beautiful like love be broken? It’s not like you can control it. That golden rule makes no sense.”

“It does, unfortunately. Wax figures like me cannot age, while humans like you can. None of them could accept the reality, always pushing it away. Until Junmyeon’s last week in university, he broke it off with her unexpectedly. From there, (Y/N) was heartbroken for decades. With heartbreak, giving the cold shoulder and bitterness followed. Then with the lavender rose you gave that she used to love became a flower that she associated with Junmyeon too because he gave her one almost every night for those past 3 years.”

Things finally added up, and the guilt in Jeno’s gut expanded. His major lightbulb moment was a major failure.

“Has Junmyeon ever returned to try and win her back?”

“Well, there was one time he did come back for an art exhibition for his paintings in the 2000s. I was already here, then he had a woman around his shoulder with an adolescent boy holding his hand. He roamed around our exhibit and kept gawking at (Y/N). We may be asleep, but we remember the conversations exchanged in the room. So, his son then asked him if he knew who she was.”

“What did he respond?” Jeno attentively listened, on the edge of such a hurtful tale.

“He knew her name, praising her for historical achievements. However, nothing as a former friend or lover. From what I predict, he ingested one of Circe’s potions.”

“But I thought Circe isn’t allowed to make potions for actual consumption. She’s not even allowed to enter the Oriental Art Room.” Jeno pointed out, overwhelmed at the puzzling past. Princess Diana was mindful that she had to stop spreading too much information, so she had to end her discussion with the lost boy.

“There are a lot of secrets about this museum, Jeno. Unfortunately, I cannot reveal to you to protect our peace.”

With due respect, Jeno quit his follow-up questions and concerns. The only thing he wished to do was mend his relationship with you. As vague as to where you even stood in the first place, he unintentionally crossed a line due to his selfish intention to befriend you.

“What can I do now, Princess Diana? You know I’d never push her buttons like that, even if I’m a whimsical person.”

“Oh, my boy.” Princess Diana soothed, holding both her hand on his sweaty palm and cupping his cheek. “For the meantime, give her space. No taunting for a while, and just observe her from a distance. Though do not fret the slightest; I’m sure she’ll be okay again.”

During that interval, you were hunched on the wall, bawling and weeping like the wound was brand new again. While Katherine and Anne stood by your side, on the lookout for anyone who’d be spying on you, Cleopatra knelt in front of you as your infinite tears gushed down.

“My dear,” She tried to wipe some of them while holding your hand. “It’s been years, and Jeno didn’t know a single thing. He didn’t mean to do it.”

“I don’t care, Cleopatra! He should’ve stopped trying to socialize with me because I won’t ever live down my experience with Junmyeon.”

“As if crying like this will bring Junmyeon back to your life,” Cleopatra exclaimed, holding in her temper. Acquainted with heartbreak, it’s awful that it changed you entirely, but you should’ve found a way to heal. Throughout your attitude change, it’s mostly you in pain, not those you inflict it to. “My dear, I love you a lot. But this Jeno boy is different, and you know it.”

“He’s still a nightguard, for Christ’s sake, Cleopatra.”

“You shouldn’t generalize that all night guards are bad just because of one encounter that occurred at the wrong time.” Brushing some strands stuck by your wet visage, she professed to you bluntly. “You’re never going to know how good Jeno is unless you slowly open up again, (Y/N). Not forcing you the slightest, but healing started once you’ve acknowledged the past and move on from it.”

“But I’m scared, Cleopatra.” You restlessly admitted, hunching even more against the wall. Your poor, metaphorical heart could only take so much. You barely expressed sorrow towards others as you always held a strong exterior, only letting it out alone. Not holding back anymore, Cleopatra brought you in for a hug. The last time she did that was the first night after Junmyeon left, calming your intensified emotions so you wouldn’t do anything dumb that night. No violence, just pure sorrow.

“My dear, it’s alright.” She whispered while stroking your back upwards. “But you’re a risktaker; that’s how people remember you. Now, you must challenge yourself to move on from things that didn’t work out. Because once you do, it’ll put your heart and mind at ease.”

“Do you think I’ll be okay again?”

“Yes, you will be, my dear. You are not alone, and never will be.”

Acting like the dutiful son he always was, Jeno distanced from you.

He still cracked jokes, chatted with the art pieces, and followed the rules, yet never did he utter anything to you. You’ve proudly anticipated it since day one, not wanting him up in your business or teasing you ever. But this time, it felt odd.

On nights he didn’t report, you’ve unconsciously wondered what he may have been up to. A job like this at his age was just as Sanghoon once said: nothing in the regular.

Was he with his friends?

Was he resting well?

From the moment you chose to let go of your limitations and old thoughts, it included your grudge against past guards. Asking for forgiveness to Sanghoon when he returns was on the top of your list, however, that’ll take a while to happen. In the start, you’re baffled as to why he no longer picked on you like every night he’s been present. Somehow, it became a habit you’ve gotten used to, having so many comebacks planned to fend yourself. But you didn’t want to concede to it, maintaining what was left of your pride since that breakdown.

While on the subject, you suspected if anyone told him anything that night because that also indicated the last time he reached out to you. By anything, it would be your unwritten past with Junmyeon. A part of yourself in the museum that you didn’t want to disperse like rapid-fire again. It would be the last thing you wanted Jeno to know.

To your misfortune, Princess Diana came clean due to your growing concern over it. Although your attitude changed and people got used to it, you could only blame yourself that you were responsible for Jeno’s change.

“All he wanted was to understand and enlighten us with his likable presence. Then with you, you were his challenge because of your high walls. Out of everyone, he tried to learn everything about you. From my observation, whenever he has a goal, he’s determined to achieve it.”

“But I’m trying to be better now, Diana. Why did he stop?”

“He may have determination, but he knows where the boundaries lie.” Princess Diana patted the side of your arm, giving you a half-grin. “It hurt him when he hurt you, even if it was accidental. So he opted to give you space; that way, you could catch a breather and he wouldn’t harm you anymore. It was what you wanted from the start anyways, right?”

A hard pill to swallow, though it was a fact. It’s just that now, you’re slowly willing to release yourself from the dark. It’s been decades, and more to come. Nothing can move on unless you do.

“Where is he, Princess Diana?”

Just as she predicted right on the edge, Diana completed the grin on her face and led you to the entrance of your exhibit. She may be younger than you, but you’re reverted in your twenties while she remained in her mid-thirties. Gaping the wide museum from the railing, starting from the painting exhibit in the lobby to across the other side of the museum, Diana spotted the black hair of the boy in the Foreign Art Room.

“Over there.”

Observing where her eyes focused, you caught a glimpse of a recognizable side profile. The owner’s eyes were completely taken by whatever he was drawing on the fold-up desk he brought out from the storage room. By the tedious action of his right hand going up and down, you’ve gotten so used to his part-time identity as the night guard to entirely dismiss his current status as a university student.

Architecture specifically as he first introduced himself to you. The same path your oldest brother, Christopher, worked in. The look of tenacity Jeno presented as his eyebrows continuously scrunched, his crescent orbs hastily spied his work for any unnecessary details and his veiny hands brushed his already messy hair, you were profoundly reminded of Christopher when he was designing his possible future house. You were 8 years old, and he was 22, who just got married. He explained how many floors it’ll have, what rooms to put and what extra furniture he’ll place to make it feel more at home.

Seeing how exceptional his art skills were, you started to sketch like him. With flowers first, it turned into bedrooms and sceneries of your neighborhood. You felt your shoulders rise in accomplishment when you were able to accurately draw people. As much as you credited Benjamin and Liam the most in your works, it’ll only be within yourself to know that you also held a soft spot for Christopher.

Excusing yourself to Princess Diana, you bravely yet quietly ventured into the Foreign Art Room. Hiding first from one of the cement columns, you resumed watching him sketch. Instead of a pencil, he used a black pen with a tip as thin as a pencil. Your assumptions would be it was for a class, basing it on him informing everybody earlier that he’ll be inactive for the remaining hours of his shift to focus on his midterm requirements. That must be difficult to balance, yet he still does everything expected from him. Maybe the second cup of iced coffee beside him stimulated his bones and mind, letting his imagination free.

Through the limited space, you tiptoed whilst holding the side of the column to make up his work. There were 2 and a half rectangular shapes stacked on top of each other, the third one he was still tracing. A sign encrypted with tiny written words you couldn’t decipher, the beauty and modernity of Jeno’s plate cannot go unappreciated.

“That’s absolutely beautiful.”

Sweet words you didn’t think would bounce back in the room, Jeno’s pace ceased whilst you hid again. Art pieces capable of walking weren’t allowed here, he locked the door even beforehand! Or he thought as he was rushing to get his work done because one of his terror professors moved up the deadline to tomorrow morning. Not even 25% finished, he petitioned for everyone’s cooperation just for tonight.

He used up his 2 days of not having the night shift for other projects, and not wanting to ruin his perfect attendance, he proceeded to show up.

The voices from the foreign paintings around him hushed for him out of respect. So possibly someone snuck in, his head looking around for intruders. But only did he quit it when he saw your blurry reflection leaning against the column. The glass windows slightly mirror back what it sees, without you knowing that.

Not to mention, the small bit of your lilac dress was left out. Of all people, it was you?

“Do my eyes deceive me or is Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) inside when she’s not allowed so?”

To break the killing tension, he tested the waves with an innocent taunt. Never did you reach out to him, so least to say he was entertained whilst keeping his distance.

Fixing your proud stance, you responded in a low baritone voice you used to persuade numerous men in her adventures. “Uhm no, I don’t know who she is.”

As intelligent as you were, Jeno was a few steps farther than you this time. Educated about the risky ways you’d get around and one of them was changing the pitch of your voice, he heartily laughed at your unsuccessful attempt.

“Okay don’t lie, (Y/N). I can see a trail of your dress and your cloak. Oh, your reflection too.”

Damn, you peeked a little to realize that he was correct. Hauling your dress back in to readjust your outfit, you pushed your hair back before appearing to him. Though when you did such, you didn’t suppose that he was practically beside you the entire time. Bumping into his towering stance of 5’10 while the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, your proud posture loosened up. He even discarded his blazer. A few more inches, he could’ve cornered you on the column if you didn’t take another step back.

Has he always been this tall or were you so used to your boots having high heels under? Oh wait, maybe because you wore flats this time because it’s making your toes sore. Your head bowed from struggling to maintain eye contact with him, your palms caressing your cheeks that suddenly heated up. Clearing your throat, you straightened your back again like nothing happened.

Jeno thought otherwise, shrugging his shoulders as he chuckled. He’s never seen you get shy, not that it was a bad thing either. The temptation to play around it more was there, but he was running out of time for his assignment.

“Come in. I’ll let you off the hook this time.” His arms opened up, allowing you access to such a wonderful exhibit. Paintings from different European periods, miniature versions of famous infrastructures inside glass containers, and replicas of Greek columns in the front entrance, no wonder it’s important to protect them all.

“Are you sure?” Watching him return to his spot, which was a bench in the center of the exhibit with a table in front, it didn’t process that you were gawking at his toned back. His broad shoulders and the evident muscles in his arms while he stretched, your eyes were speedy to look away when he tried to take a glance at you.

“I don’t think the paintings here and I mind.” Sitting down again, he tapped the vacant space beside him. “Feel free to watch me draw if you want to.”

Settling by his side, he recommenced where he left off. Now with a closer view of his piece, it did look like a building as you thought. He was sketching the remaining outline of the 3rd floor of this hypothetical place, continuously checking his ruler to monitor if the lines were consistent. Able to pick up on the words of the sign beside the building, you wowed with one hand on your lips.

“You’re redrawing Seoul National University Museum of Art?”

“One of my plate assignments was to visualize a renovation of a certain place, so I chose the museum.”

“Why so?”

“Well,” Jeno shook his pen so the ink could come out. “This entire place comes to life with the royal plate, so I think we should expand the space and bring in more art pieces to life if we add another extra floor. A rooftop area for visitors and events would be fun. And definitely, we should modernize the exterior and interior a bit because it looks outdated personally. That’s also what my friends think too.”

Noticing the minor details of his plate whilst removing any unnecessary pens so it wouldn’t smudge, “Huh, I quite agree with you.”

For the first time since his night shift, you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), came into an agreement with him. He became so accustomed to clashing opinions that now, you had no contrasting points to make at all. A good change perhaps was what he’s witnessing.

“Woah, who are you agreeing with me and where’s (Y/N)?” He creased his brows whilst locking eye contact with you. This time, you didn’t wince away and just nudged him on his shoulder to get back to work.

“Hush, Jeno. Isn’t that due later? Get to work, I’ll roam around here for the meantime.”

After decades in this museum, you’re enlightened with the foreign paintings in which some you’ve heard of in your younger years and some that were created beyond your time. The Birth of Venus, Liberty Leading the People, Girl with a Pearl Earring, there’s an advantage of learning about their stories that humans couldn’t interpret. Logical that this section must be off-limits because these pieces were extra special, yet there’s so much more than what meets the eye.

There’s peace in silence while you wandered around, though it doesn’t hinder only at the art. Jeno hasn’t uttered a word since he got back to drawing, and once you asked him what’s doing now, still no answer back. Odd, he’s constantly awa-

Oh, my. You must’ve jinxed it.

Your eyes laid on Jeno leaning forward on his desk with his arms serving as his pillow, resting his head sideways. Soft snores and minimal movement in his upper body to shake the growing cold temperature of the room, he was sleeping like a log.

Putting into perspective, he hasn’t acquired enough rest specifically this past 2 weeks. The endless number of plates due making him work extra during his shift rather than sleeping in the slightest, exhaustion must be an understatement. Coffee no longer pushed him to his maximum for this week even.

But this was the path he chose, and it’ll have its challenges. Still, if you could relieve the stress in any way, you would. This would be one of the ways to repay for all the rudeness you’ve passed on him. Scurrying to his side, placing the plate on the side with his other things. You returned the caps of his open pens so they don’t spill. They must be expensive, recalling how Jeno shared the cons of being an architecture major to Princess Diana. One was the pens needed for sketching, and any tiny damages to them meant buying them again.

With his watch on clear display, he only had 2 hours left until his shift was done. Then, 4 hours until his plate assignment was done, and his current plate was far from done.

The blunt impulse to wake him up slithered your mind, though his calm state deflected your duty. As if you were on board a ship again for your explorations, you paid attention to the view with a relaxed mindset.

Lee Jeno specifically was the view.

His coffee-stained lips were parted and his sharp nose breathing in and out at a relaxing pace, he must be dreaming a happy moment the way half his lips curved into a smile. If he’s resting well, then you too would be calm.

Because of your past disinterest in him, only at this moment did you observe how sharp his jawline was and the cuts on his arms he sought refuge in. No matter how many times you tried to deny Hera’s compliments of him on the side, you couldn’t.

Lee Jeno embodied attractive features; both physical and emotional.

Back to his plate, it’ll put him at a disadvantage if he submitted the way it looked before he passed out. But you remembered all those extra details he mentioned and wanted to add to this project. Being an explorer, you documented all your ventures through words or drawings. You’re fast to adjust to anything new too.

For all the good he’s done for everyone, he only deserved some help in return.

Your version of help was sketching the remaining details of this plate, using other pens for more emphasis. It’s a risk also, but no way could you turn a blind eye on Jeno this time.

Around 5:30 am, Jeno’s eyes blinked open due to a brightening light from the outside. Stretching his limbs, he finds a velvet cloak wrapped around him like a blanket. But before he could question it, he pulled his arm in to see the time on his watch.

“Fuck!” He cursed, realizing that his so-called 10-minute snooze break aborted.

“Oh my, you’re awake!” From his frazzled state, there you were. So put together yet active, some strands of your hair falling down your face even with your hair up in a ponytail. “How was your sleep?”

This whole time he could’ve been woken up, yet you chose not to. You’re aware of his deadline, yet you let him rest entirely. He could’ve burst out in stress, yet he didn’t. You and he may have started on the wrong foot, yet it’s impossible of you to do such an evil thing. He’ll just have to tolerate the outcome later today.

“Refreshing. I really needed it.” Packing his things in his bag and closing the table, you trailed along as he exited with you. Locking up, he has 30 minutes left to accomplish the cleaning. A long good morning indeed.

But his worry of that vanished when you admitted that you had it all covered.

“Everyone helped out in cleaning, plus there are no damages made either.” From your hand, you returned one of his keys that was on his guard blazer. “I double-checked the Oriental Room and locked the doors again.”

“Why are you suddenly so nice to me, (Y/N)?” He questioned with confusion, wearing his blazer again and patting away any creases. He placed your cloak over you again like a true gentleman.

Without a word, you simply invited him to walk you back to your exhibit as parts of the sun began to rise. As you returned to your section, your fellow figures readying themselves to pose again,

“It’s my way to apologize for my very rude first impression and the succeeding moments after. I was too cooped up in my past that I was too afraid to let humans in again, night guards in particular.” You admitted, removing your cloak and placing behind your chair like always. “I’m so sorry, Jeno. Everyone was right about you and your kind heart.”

“About time.” Cleopatra’s sultry voice cut in, laying on her day bed.

Before you had the chance to flip off, Jeno mediated swiftly. With a gentle smile, “No worries about it. I’m just happy you’re okay, after all you’ve been through.”

“Can we start over then?”

“Absolutely.” With his free hand, he brought it out. No matter what kind of introductions, shaking one’s hand was the best way to start a friendship. “Good evening. I’m Lee Jeno, the new museum night guard.”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), explorer and author.” Sighing at his humor, you still replied by shaking his hand. “And I believe you’re mistaken, Lee Jeno. It’s a good morning.”

Seconds after, you imitated your typical pose and smile. Only now, the latter was more genuine. Finally, a fresh start to end your agony.

Once the sun fully revealed itself, every figure including yourself froze back to sleep. Something Jeno wished to catch up on if it weren’t for his damn plate. He was so screwed, already contemplating his next steps if he does fail this class. The possibility of getting delayed in all aspects, he dreaded it already.

Heading back to his dorm, where both his roommates completely passed out from soju on the couch, he sat by his work desk and turned on his night lamp for more light since the sun wasn’t strong enough yet.

With another cup of coffee, he cracked the joints of his knuckles and laid out his pens. He had 2 hours left to submit this plate, and at most he should accomplish 50% of his initial plan. However, he didn’t anticipate such a gorgeous outcome when he brought out his plate.

Picture perfect of every detail he desired, even adding a rooftop area with that he’d love to have if ever the museum does go under renovation one day. Rather than setting the plate during the day, it was at night as the skies were dark and bright specks of yellow inside the building symbolized light.

So much for wasting coffee, he’ll just give it to Jaemin when he wakes up later. Below the final product, a note written in cursive was stuck on it.

I knew you wanted to get this specific plate done, but you mustn’t compromise your sleep for it. It’s your inhumane professor’s fault!

To make up for my faults, I wanted to help you out. I paid extra attention to the details you spoke highly about, so I only hoped that I interpreted it correctly. It’s risky, but as someone who researched so much about me, would you be surprised that I did such a thing?

PS: Get back to sleep. I’m quite sure your desk is laid out the same way in the Foreign Art Room.

Respectfully,

(Y/N)

Turning off his lamp, Jeno jumped the covers of his bed to continue his lost sleep. Without an ounce of care that he hasn’t changed into cleaner clothes, he’s relieved that he won’t flunk his class.

Most of all, he’s relieved that you’ve melted the ice in you and allowed kindness to come in. Jeno may never understand how hard that must’ve been for you, yet he raved you for it.

“Oh, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Surprise is an understatement when it comes to you.”

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cafeacademia · 3 years

Text

His Favourite Gal | Part 1

Mob!Bucky x Shy!Reader

Summary: You begin working as a waitress at Bucky Barnes’ favourite club in town. Little do you realise that working on mob territory owned by the infamous King of New York, Bucky Barnes, comes with its quirks and you’re slowly pulled into the mobster life.

Warnings: Fluff, some mentions of drunk people, mentions of crimes (though nothing happens, it’s just mentioned).

Word count: Approx 3700

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A/N: Hi loves!! This is a remaster of my own original fan fiction that I’ve decided to take from my old blog and (hopefully) improve. I’ve been slowly remastering fics that I am particularly attached to and I worked quite a lot to get this one overhauled and rewritten!! There’s actually very little of the original writing left, it was interesting to see how different my style is now compared to three years ago! This was also my first ever series I’d ever written on my old blog, so aside from the fact that I love the story, it’s special to me in that regard. Enjoy! 💕

If you’d like to join my taglist, you can do so using my taglist form HERE

It was raining when you finally finished your shift three hours later than when you were supposed to be off for the night. It was tiring working for the dingy old bar, it looked just as sad on the outside as it did on the inside, the old brick discoloured, old panelling slowly peeling off the sides of the building. It was a wreck and so was your boss too. He couldn’t have cared less if you worked yourself down to the bone, as long as he had staff doing a job, he didn’t care.

“I’m expecting you tomorrow, we’re opening early.” He had told you on your way out and it took everything in your willpower not to groan and roll your eyes and tell him so eloquently to fuck off. It was almost a relief when you heard the heavy metal door slam behind you as you stepped out of the back entrance. The air was just as bad. It was thick with smog and cigarette smoke and something pungent, an overflowing bin or perhaps an unfortunate street animal, you thought.

You were glad when it began to rain harder. At least it seemed to make most of the drunkards along the main strip try to find shelter instead of bothering you on your walk home.

Pulling your jacket hood up, you stepped down from the doorway and made your way out of the alleyway and onto the back street. It was never good to walk home alone, especially at night and especially in the part of New York you lived and worked in. It was on the edge of mobster territory and while Bucky Barnes, the King of New York owned it, it didn’t mean it was safe at all. It was quite the opposite, the district was prone to all levels of crime, from pickpocketing all the way up to armed robberies, arson and shootings.

But, you realised as you walked up the street, spotting a group of drunk men up ahead, drink men with rifles too, that never ended well, that perhaps mobster territory might not be a bad idea, especially when there were people working for Barnes along the entire street and they were known to keep the peace.

You heard the casino before you saw it, but as you rounded the corner you saw the lights, the late night rain distorting some of the huge party lights that lit up the sky above the building. Stark’s was not the most prestigious club in town, but it was the most respected and most feared. And funnily enough, for a place called Stark’s, the billionaire did not own his own named club. As far as you remembered, you’d seen it in the papers a few years ago that Barnes had won it off Stark in a game of poker. You’d never know if that was really true, but it definitely seemed plausible.

As you passed the casino, you glanced over towards the dark tinted windows, watching as people came and went, mostly men in suits. But you noticed a sign from across the road that was taped onto one of the windows, huge bold letters making you stop in your tracks for a moment.

Waiting staff needed. And you stared at it for a moment, contemplating. You… A bar waitress, surely it was not wise for you to sign up to work in mobster territory. That would definitely land you in more dangerous places than you were already in.

But the longer you stood there and thought about it, you began to wonder if it was actually a good idea. You could at least try, what did you have to lose? And before you could even come to a full decision, it was as it was made for you, because a group of rowdy men walked towards you and you immediately took the decision to cross the road, putting you right in front of the casino.

How bad could it be? The worst that could happen was that you just had to return back around the corner to your miserable little bar job. So, with a sigh, you grabbed the flyer and walked towards the entrance.

The bouncer was huge and intimidating. Of course, you had expected as much with the club having the notoriety that it did. It wasn’t long before you were allowed to enter, the bouncer telling you, “speak to Natasha at the bar”, and as you headed through into the casino, you assumed the absolutely stunning woman behind the bar right ahead of you was Natasha.

The club was bustling with people, though it was not as stuffy and loud on the inside as you had expected it to be. There was a clear divide between people dining and drinking at tables around the bar and the casino side of the club which appeared to be behind a velvet rope and deep burgundy red curtains at either side of the bar. It was far more high end than you had expected, seeing as the outside of Stark’s resembled a kind of fancy nightclub, but you supposed the King of New York did happen to own it.

“Are you here about the job?” The woman at the bar asked as you approached her. You wondered if it was your very casual clothing in such a formal setting that gave you away or the flyer in your hand. Either way, you suddenly felt very intimidated and very underprepared. Perhaps this had been a bad idea. You were a girl dressed in the dregs of your wardrobe while trying to get a job in the most respected club in the entire city. Not likely.

“I saw the advertisement outside, I hope that’s alright.” You said as you lifted the flyer in your hand and she held out her hand to take it from you. “Are you sure? We haven’t had many applicants because of certain activities.” She told you, but you knew what she meant, it was obvious. This part of town, even outside of mobster territory was swimming in crime. “I’ve got nothing to lose.” You replied. And it was true, you did have nothing to lose. No family, no responsibilities outside of your current job, which this would replace, no children, no pets, no side hustles. Nothing. And that probably made you a good candidate.

The woman smiled at you, her lips curving up into a smirk as she took a moment to look you over before she extended her hand across the counter. “Natasha.” She introduced herself, smiling as you shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.” You mirrored her smile and gave her your name before she let go of you. “Let me just get someone on the bar and we’ll talk.” She told you.

And moments later, you were following Natasha through the casino, passing by all of the business men, mafia family members and rich men and women who were chancing it at gambling games. Suffice to say, you felt even more out of place than you had done just moments beforehand.

“Where do you work right now?” Natasha asked as she let you pass her into an office near the back of the building. “I work in an old bar just around the corner called The Rabid Dog.” It was not a pleasant name, it always made you cringe whenever you had to tell people where you worked and you didn’t fail to notice the way that Natasha seemed amused by the name of the bar too.

“So you’ve done bar work? What about waitressing?” She asked as she gestured for you to sit down on one of the chairs in front of the desk. Natasha didn’t sit behind the desk, instead she just dropped down into the chair next to yours and rested one leg over the other as if she was having a casual conversation with a friend. “My bar serves food, so I do it on a regular basis and I also used to work in a restaurant a few years ago.” You explained, but before either of you could say anything else, the door swung open and you nearly fell out of your chair.

“Who’s this?” Bucky Barnes, the King of New York himself asked as he walked through the doorway. What had you walked into? You knew he owned the club, but you’d never expected to actually meet Barnes. “This is our new waitress.” Natasha said proudly as she stood. You knew better than to interrupt, but you gathered that someone must have noticed the look of confusion on your face because just as a second man entered the room, he said, “Does our new waitress know she’s the new waitress?” The second man asked. He was blonde, just as tall and muscular as Barnes, though he looked at you with less of a poker face and more of an amused smirk.

“Really? You just hired her like that?” Mr Barnes asked as he approached you. “I like her.” Natasha countered, both men giving her pointed looks, though Mr Barnes raised his brows and nodded before turning back towards you. “She likes you.” He repeated what Natasha had said. You couldn’t help but send Natasha a questioning glance. She had just met you minutes ago and she’d already analysed you enough to know that she liked you and you wondered if Natasha was much more than just a bar girl.

“Have you done waitressing before?” Barnes asked. “I just asked her that.” Natasha huffed. “Yes sir, waitressing and bar work.” You responded. “And do you have any family?” He asked next. “No sir, none at all.” You replied. “And you know this isn’t the type of job cut out for ordinary people, right? This club sees a lot of things.” Mr Barnes went on. “I do, sir.” You nodded.

“Buck, maybe we should consider-.” But Mr Barnes casually held up his hand to silence his friend. “You’re hired.” He announced, the entire room falling silent and all you could do was stare at Barnes for a moment, stunned that he had just hired you right there on the spot. “I am?” It came out a little more hushed than you had intended, Bucky nodding as he smirked at you. “Whatever your pay is at your old job, I’ll pay at least double, more if it’s not enough. Natasha will contact your old boss and get you ready for your first day.” And with that, Bucky Barnes and his friend left the room and Natasha looked over at you, watching as the astonishment slowly dissipated.

“I’ll let you know when you start work.” Natasha broke the silence and you glanced over at her. “Just like that?” You asked, still surprised. “Just like that.” She responded. “Don’t worry, Barnes wouldn’t keep me around if I wasn’t a good judge of character.” She winked at you and you wondered again if she was something more than just a bar girl.

The job, you realised after your first couple of days working at the club, was far more interesting and a lot more rewarding than your previous job at the old bar. The club was a scene for all kinds of happenings and while nothing nefarious really went on, especially under Bucky Barnes’ nose, you did overhear an awful lot of conversation.

You learned as well in those first few days, that while this was not where Mr Barnes resided, he used the club as a place to carry out some of his business meetings and discussions as well as a place to relax.

Barely a week into your new job, you were getting ready for your shift in the little back room. Lockers lined the walls with a mirror at the side of the door and comfortable benches in the middle of the room. Dressed in a simple, but pretty black dress, you tied the strings of your little demi apron at the back, though you paused, a little startled when the door was abruptly pushed open and Natasha stepped in.

“Barnes needs you.” Nat announced with urgency and you frowned at her. “He does?” You asked. “He needs someone to waitress him and the family tonight, he’s asking for you.” She informed you. “I thought-.” “Yes, I know normally we have security taking orders to the waitresses, but he’s personally asking for you to waitress them tonight.” Nat told you and you paused with a slight air of confusion about you. “Alright, I’ll waitress Mr Barnes then.” You nodded, quickly fumbling with the ties of your apron before you shoved your jacket a bit more firmly into the back of the locker and shut it properly, letting Natasha walk you through the club towards the private dining space they were occupying.

Nat rushed you into the room and closed the door behind you, leaving you to stand rather flustered in front of a cosy looking dining room with a round table in the middle. Bucky was sat at the furthest end of the room, his chair seeming to have a higher back than all of the others. At his left was Steve, who you’d been properly introduced to on your first day at work and on his right was Sam Wilson, who you understood was a very close friend of his.

“Sugar, you made it.” Bucky enthusiastically greeted you as you approached the table. You hoped that you didn’t appear too flustered and intimidated, but you were aware that there was only so much you could play off with smiles when you knew your eyes might give you away. “Good evening Mr Barnes, gentleman.” You nodded, finally taking a step into the room and approaching the table, receiving polite hellos and smiles from all of them. “Are you looking after us tonight?” Steve asked, sitting forward in his seat and casually leaning his elbows on the table. “I am, Mr Rogers.” You nodded, lifting your notepad and pen as if it were proof. “Allow me to introduce you to everyone.” Bucky waved you over to him and you took a few steps towards him as he went around the table naming everyone. It was quite easy to distinguish that the people sitting closest to Bucky were of more importance to him as he listed Clint and Scott, who seemed to be his security and Pietro who appeared at first glance to be a mentee as well as the rest of the group.

“C’mere sweetheart.” Bucky motioned you to come and stand next to him once they were all done ordering food and drink. You stood where he’d pointed to and he turned in his seat to face you. You felt your cheeks warm intensely as Bucky smiled up at you, his eyes so soft and sweet and you questioned for a moment how exactly this man was the King of New York. He was incredibly sweet looking and for a moment you found yourself melting on the spot. “Is that everything, Mr Barnes?” You asked. “Not quite, sugar. Add whatever you’re having to the list, it’s on me.” He grinned at you. “I – uh, sorry?” You asked, a little confused. “Are you sure, Mr Barnes?” You hesitantly met his eyes though you immediately broke eye contact. “Absolutely, please eat with us, doll.” Bucky’s voice went soft as he tilted his head back a little to see you better, his lips pouting ever so slightly. “As you wish, Mr Barnes. Thank you.” You smiled at him, speaking softly before jotting your meal on the notepad and rushing out of the room.

You nearly bumped into Natasha as you made your way towards the kitchen. “He wants me to eat with them.” You blurted out before even making your presence known. “He what?” Nat frowned. “Mr Barnes wants me to order my food and drink and eat with them.” You repeated, more calmly this time. “Really?” She looked at you wide eyed. “Does he not do that with other waitresses?” You questioned, ripping the order out of the notepad and handing it to the kitchen staff. “No, he’s never done that before, never requested it either.” Nat shook her head. “Are you sure?” You surely couldn’t be the only one he’s ever asked. “I’ve worked here every night for three years and not once has he ever requested that.” Nat said with a single raised brow. It was definitely unusual. “I’ll get someone to call for you when the food’s ready. Let me get their drinks together.” She told you, waving you away before she went to look at the order you’d brought in.

You waltzed into the private dining room with a large round tray balanced expertly on one hand. The glasses on top gently clinked together as you walked. Handing out their orders, you took your drink last. You noticed quickly that all the men around the table had shifted and there was now an empty seat next to Bucky. “Come and sit with me, doll.” He patted the empty chair. Steve hopped up to pull it out for you and you obliged, gently sitting yourself down in the chair and turning slightly to face him. You didn’t want to assume you could speak unless spoken to, so you politely kept quiet while Bucky noticeably studied your face. “Tell us about yourself, sweetheart.” He smiled, sitting back in his chair as he picked up his drink and took a sip.

“I’ve been around and lived in a few different places. My parents passed several years ago and it’s just been me ever since, so I moved back to Brooklyn.” You did appreciate the soft look on Bucky’s face as he listened to what you said, almost like he felt sorry for you. Before you could continue though, Bucky rested his hand over yours and squeezed gently. “I’m sorry about your parents, truly I am.” He spoke just above a whisper. “Thank you, Mr Barnes.” You gave him a tight lipped smile. “Call me Bucky. We’re with family, which means we’re all on a first name basis, alright?” Bucky gripped your hand gently. “Alright, Bucky.” You nodded, mirroring his smile.

You told him more about yourself and for a moment, Bucky seemed anything but a mobster. He asked you about the books you liked to read and talked to you about the subjects that seemed to make your eyes light up and your smile a little wider. As the evening drew on, you became comfortable enough to share a few timid little jokes, which elicited chuckles and laughs from even some of the most scary looking men around the table. One of them, Drax, who was terrifyingly huge and angry looking, clapped his hand over his chest and roared with laughter the first time you told a joke, which completely took you by surprise. What surprised you more was how easy it was to make Bucky laugh and how down to earth and sweet he was.

By the time everyone had eaten and spent some time drinking and chatting and enjoying themselves, you had warmed up to all of them, especially Steve, Sam and Bucky. All of them though, were soft and charming on the inside, showing you a side to them you were unsure anyone else in the club was ever going to see. They were intimidating on the outside, exuding a terrifying confidence, but on the inside they were all sweet and gentle and caring and it absolutely melted you.

And after you had said goodbye to all of them and made your way back to the locker room, Clint, one of Bucky’s closer family members, followed you in. “Barnes wants me and Scott to make sure you get home safe.” He told you. “He’s requesting we give you a lift back in his SUV.” Clint added, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed over his middle. It definitely seemed unusual, especially to be personally driven home. As far as you were aware, not even Natasha, who seemed very close to the family was ever given a lift home. But then again, judging by her reaction to Bucky wanting you to dine with them earlier, you supposed this was all rather new for them, just as much as it was for you. “Alright.” You nodded as you opened your locker, pulling off your apron and putting it away before you took out your jacket and bag, quickly getting them both on before letting Clint escort your towards the back exit.

“Hey doll, hope you don’t mind the spontaneous ride home.” Bucky grinned, far too pleased with himself that he was having his men not only drive him, Steve and Sam home, but also you. Of course it meant he had a longer way home, but Bucky didn’t care. Seeing you all off to your houses was important to him and why seeing you off specifically was important, Bucky was starting to wonder why.

After sliding into the SUV and getting comfortable on the soft, plush seats, you were driven home with gentle, quiet chatter between Bucky and Sam, Steve joining in occasionally until you arrived at your apartment building.

“See you the day after tomorrow, sugar.” Bucky smiled, leaning towards the open door to speak to you as you got out of the car. “Thanks for the ride home.” You waved at all of the men in the car, Scott getting out to escort you up to the front door of the building, the car waiting until they had seen you safely into the building and the door shut behind you.

Sitting down in your bedroom, safely back in your apartment you laid down in the soft blankets, replaying the evening in your head, realising you were smiling to yourself when you remembered that Nat had said no one had ever been asked to dine with Bucky and his family before. It brought warmth to your cheeks as you settled in for the night, looking forward to your next shift at Stark’s.

Bucky Taglist (OPEN):

@losers-official @barneswidow @megantje123 @anchoeritic @struggling-bee

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mobster!bucky #mobster!bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #marvel #marvel fanfic series

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hotwings0203 · 4 years

Text

Gilded Cage

A/N: It’s embarrassing how long this took but oh well, happy new year to everyone and I hope you enjoy scummy yandere hawks!

Warnings: dubcon, kidnapping, abuse, toxic relationships, degradation, yandere themes

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

At first she welcomed the bright flashing lights like a breath of fresh air, but in due time it made her throat close up like the rest of the situation.

He had agreed to let her out if she behaved, and that meant no biting, scratching, screaming, flinching, temper tantrums, and worst of all, no silent treatment.

And she would take it like a champ if it meant seeing any other person in 6 months.

He had kept her here like a flightless bird in this cage of theirs, and oh how ironic it was that she was succumbed to be the prey of this ruthless hawk, with him able to soar amongst the people and buildings while Y/n stayed perched in the house, her ever-growing wings mentally becoming too much for her to control and stay silent about.

She needed space, she wanted to leave, but she didn’t dare voicing any of her wants, especially when Keigo made it so clear how her meager wants were of no match for his needs.

And his needs, as he’s made so clear thus far, include her being a pliant, quiet, yet loving little birdie who cooks, cleans, and lays with him day and night without complaint.

God forbid she speaks up about her...living conditions, as he liked to so generously supply to her the first and last time she ever had this conversation with him. She tried telling him how she originally had loved their relationship of a couple of months, and sure it might have been weird for him to push her into moving in with him only after 3 months, but it was because of how much he loved her or so he said at least, when he bashed her head repeatedly on the ground when she told him it “wasn’t normal to rush into things so fast”.

Sure, he had a big spacious penthouse lent to him by the Hero Commission so being physically cramped was never a problem, and yes okay he showered her with gifts and little trinkets, just like birds did with their mates even more so after a big fight that usually left her black and blue, with swollen lips, ripped up knees and big red welts on her wrists while the hero himself was left with not even a feather out of place.

But there were days where their movie nights and cuddling sessions didn’t cut it for her anymore. There were nights when she couldn’t take his suffocating arms around her a second longer, only to be replaced by an even heavier and darker presence when she tried turning on her side away from him.

Sometimes it would be a chain reaction caused by the smallest of catalysts, however. It would be on a day where he left the restraints on a little too tightly, and Y/n was forced to use toothpaste on her wrists instead of the salve Keigo always kept in the medicine closet. Other times it would happen when he would keep feeling up her sides and pressing into her after a long day of her cooking in hopes that the plentiful food would be enough to keep him occupied away from her, even if it was for an hour or two.

It never was, though. He always wanted her, whether it was her scent, her presence, or her clothes that he kept in his pockets on his missions.

On those days, the days where she felt too much Keigo, too many feathers and too much Hawks was when she snapped.

Down would go the plates, the expensive wine glasses, the vases filled with flowers sent by hundreds of fangirls who knew nothing about the monster that he actually was. She’d tear out her mussed hair, red-faced with tears that ruined her makeup the makeup that she liked to wear on these types of days just to piss him off, knowing that he thought “excess makeup is for whores and catfishes. I already know you’re a whore, well, my whore, but you’re not even good enough at applying makeup to be deemed a catfish so don’t even try it hummingbird” while screaming in his face to let go, for the love of god Hawks PLEASE let me go I want to go home I don’t want this anymore I don’t want YOU anymore this isn’t working out I don’t love you-

And crack would be the sound of his palm across her face, knocking her to the floor. On these types of days he wouldn’t even think she deserved a change in facial expression, staring down at her pathetic trembling body while his lips were set in a subtle casual smile, his hands stuffed in his pockets as if he never raised an arm a second ago, and his eyes remained golden and neutral, the only indication of him processing her tantrum was the black glint in his pupils that dilated every time she gasped and sobbed on the floor.

To ensure that his precious, oh-so fragile lovebird wouldn’t hurt herself any further with her stupidity, he’d crouch down inches away from her face and cock his head slightly as a real bird would do. He’d reach out and lift her chin to face him while his other hand would snake up her thigh to try and console her which only succeeded in making her shake and breath unevenly.

Leaning forward to ghost his lips over the shell of her ear, he’d relish in the way her mouth would part in terror as he would lovingly whisper every threat of what he’d do to her the next time she wanted to be like a brat, because god help her if she thought he couldn’t tame a brat after dealing with a lifetime of villains.

It was almost laughable, how easy she was to silence. He didn’t even need to use feathers to pull her to her feet when he would tell her to go to the bed and get on all fours like the bitch she was.

She had to earn her way back into being his good, obedient little dove, on days like these.

But after these days would pass and she would indeed realign with his expectations, he would reward her greatly.

Never like this, though.

Y/n is brought to the present again as another flash of light from the paparazzi snaps her out of her daze. As the spots begin to fade from her vision, she sees Keigo in front of her adorning his trademark “for the fans-only” grin, although Y/n would call it a sleazy smile, the same smile he would give her before he signaled his feathers to cut deep into her feet so she’d stop kicking at him as he dragged her on the floor and feels him squeeze her hand a little too tightly to be dubbed as endearing.

“Stop zoning out on me, you look like a ditz”, he hisses through his teeth, his grin now resembling more of a bared-teeth look.

She tries to try to fix her face and pull the corners of her mouth up, attempting to also brighten her eyes and looking interested at the blond interviewer who was now conversing with Hawks about his recent team-up with Endeavor. It takes every ounce of self-restraint to not shove past the phony smiles and flashy attire enveloping her and waltz down the red carpet to the doors of the gala. She thinks if she hears him utter another word about how he’s so incredibly blessed to have the love and support of my fans, family, and most importantly, my girlfriend who has stuck by my side through thick and thin, she’ll puke on the bedazzled yellow dress the interviewer has on.

As if. He’d probably whisk her off to the nearest bathroom and pummel her on the floor right then and there just for being distracted, but not before fucking her as well.

She feels Hawks nudge her side, and on cue she darts her head up and really plasters on a blinding smile as she focuses on the question that was just asked to her.

“Sorry, what was that? I think I got distracted by your outfit, you look lovely tonight, an absolute catch.” She winks for good measure, just to salvage the damage of ignoring the conversation and Keigo’s tight-lipped smile, which was beginning to soften.

Bingo.

“Oh you’re so sweet! I can see why Mr. Number Two here swooped in to take such a cutie like yourself.” The interviewer giggled, twirling a golden lock around her finger. “But no worries, I was just saying you should come make a public appearance more often! I mean, the media barely gets to see you with Hawks intimately, it would be a great excuse to get all glammed-up as well...I mean, if Hawks here hasn’t got his talons sunk too deep into you.” She laughs shrilly and doesn’t notice how both Y/n and Keigo tense up at her insinuation.

Yeah lady, you’re not too far from the truth. The last time I tried to look nice and go outside, I was bedridden for a week and a half while nursing frozen peas over 7 different parts of my body, inside and out.

But if Keigo can bullshit more than he can tell the truth, then so could she.

She laughs warmly and places her hand on his shoulder lightly, just to sell the “supportive girlfriend” look.

“Well, I really would love to come out and show my support for him more often, but we’ve both agreed that with all the publicity anyways, it’s just too much pressure for me to deal with. I’d rather just stick with what I know and keep it hush between him and I.” She turns her gaze to Keigo now, superficially giving him a puppy-in-love look but discreetly seeking his approval if what she said was the correct thing or not.

He merely gave her an amused smile, as if to say damn, wasn’t expecting that answer but I guess it’s fine. Yeah. Two can play at that game.

Pleased with her answer, the blond bimbo turns on her heel and sashays away, leaving the couple by themselves.

Keigo gives Y/n a side eye and cautiously holds out his elbow for her to take. A peace offering for the meantime, just to reward her for the quick save.

Don’t fuck this up for me, or you’ll regret it tenfold when we get back home.

“Shall we?” He waits for her to oblige, and of course she does.

Arm-in arm, they gracefully walk down the red carpet towards the gold plated doors. Upon entering, Y/n’s breath is taken away at the grand hall, with red banners hanging from the balconies that had navy blue and gold words of praise for the heroes engraved in the silk. Hundreds of pro heroes filled the room, much more than what she was used to from only interacting with her captor for months.

Guiding her over to the long granite bar, Keigo squeezes her arm before lightly dropping it. Before she can move, he stands directly in front of her and his vermillion wings unfurl and slightly surround the two of them, creating their own little space. To others, it might’ve just looked like two lovers embracing each other and having their own little moment. Y/N knew better, however, and suspected he had ulterior motives.

She was right.

“I’m gonna leave you here for a few minutes, ‘kay? I don’t want you moving from here,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, and she had to suppress a shudder at his unwanted proximity. “The feather stays on, and I better not see or hear anything funny while I’m away.”

She nodded and touched her necklace that was indeed laced with one of his feathers, remembering the deal he made when he agreed to let you out for the day.

Ah yes, the dreaded feather.

When she had approached him on shaking legs two days prior, Hawks was brushing his hair in the bathroom, keen on meticulously keeping it styled and ruffed up in the morning. It was one of the things that Y/N would begrudgingly say was one of his finest features, along with his natural eyeliner-shaped markings and rugged yet handsome facial features.

On good days, she liked to lightly trace her fingers and across his sharp jawline and feel the stubble growing on his blushed face. She’d try to stop immediately however, when he’d open his eyes and catch her hand, moving it across his body much to her chagrin and down to his-

She had stood outside the door, fumbling with the hem of her thin nightie and desperately trying to pull the short material past her bare thighs as she mustered up the courage to bring up her proposition.

Keigo slowly ceased his brushing when he saw the meek little thing quivering outside his door, and he quirked up an amused eyebrow. He braced both arms on either side of the sink, and let out a light exhale, before addressing her.

“Something wrong hummingbird?”

She dragged her eyes from the floor up to his dilated golden irises, and blurted out what she had been rehearsing in her head for the past couple of days:

“DoyouthinkIcouldcomewithyoutothegala?”

“Huh?” he snickered, thoroughly bewildered by what incomprehensible nonsense she had stuttered out.

Y/N bit her lip and took in a shaky breath, strike one, she fumbled her first try.

“Haw- uh, Keigo,” she corrected quickly. He preferred her using his first name, his real name. He claimed it made things more intimate between them as if carving his name on her back hadn't been enough to seal their “intimacy’-she didn’t need to be told twice what to call him by after that day “I was wondering...if I’m good and I don’t give you a hard time, can I come with you to the hero's gala?”

Keigo’s brow furrowed slightly, and he cocked his head to the side like a real bird. He seemed to be contemplating it.

“Alright,” he conceded after a couple seconds. “If, and I mean if you listen to me and don’t try any funny business while we’re there I’ll let you tag along.”

Y/N darted her eyes up to him, hope swimming in her heart.

“But you have to wear the feather.”

She immediately blanched.

A major inconvenience that she had come to terms with in the duration of her stay with him had been his stupid fucking feathers that layed oh-so-casually around the floor where she walked and coincidentally clinging to her clothes wherever she went out of Keigo’s eyesight, even though she was trapped on the same floor with him.

They had special properties; they could detect any movement, sense any vibration whenever he called for it. This made for a perfect tracker for Y/N in terms of whenever he wanted an update on her heartbeat, her mood, her whereabouts, and anything in between.

Yes, it was suffocating. But she would much rather it only be a suffocating feeling rather than him actually directing hundreds of feathers to surround her and hold her down on the bed or floor to do whatever he wanted with her in any position he pleased.

She didn’t dare complain to his face, however. She’d grit her teeth, grin and bear it, listen to every whim he demanded of her if it meant one night of superficial normalcy.

And so she put on her best behavior on the days leading up to the main event. She made dozens of dishes that circulated around chicken (his favorite binge food), she let them have “cuddle time”, with no complaints whatsoever when he insisted on bathing her and dressing her up in stupid pink frilly skirts, and she even gave him little subtle looks with a batting of her eyelashes when he looked down fondly at her good mannerisms and praised her for being such a sweet little birdie.

Eventually, her acting paid off and on the morning of the gala she was merited with a silk red dress that stopped at her upper thigh, ornamented with gold earrings and a 12K necklace to really sell off the look-which was of course wrapped around one of his feathers. Hawks had even hired a makeup artist who was instructed to not ask or say anything to Y/N save for questions about the products, much to her pleasant surprise.

She was still reminded of how much she had to grovel for him every time he rewarded her that afternoon.

“You look stunning, chickadee,” Keigo leaned against the dresser with his arms crossed, and smiled warmly at Y/N. “You’re making her look like a real model, maybe she should take over my job instead. Or, actually, maybe you could stop by my agency and make me all pretty for my next photoshoot.” He directed this last tease at the makeup artist and winked, causing the oblivious employee to giggle and blush.

Ugh, barf. He’s even a sleaze when I’m right here.

Y/N feigned a roll of her eyes, which didn’t go unnoticed by the hero. She could feel his dilated eyes boring into her the rest of the 15 minutes of touch-ups. Eventually everything was done, and Hawks left praise after shameless praise fall from his lips and onto the poor fangirl’s heart as he guided her out the door, a hand on her lower back as he did so.

She took the opportunity to get up and walk to the full-length mirror, admiring how she looked for the first time in ages. Gone were the multi-colored marks that decorated her body as if she were nothing more than a mere canvas for her painter to use. Her eyes seemed a little brighter too, and it wasn’t just the makeup that caused it. She stood a little straighter and squared her shoulders, her chin tilted up more than before while she stared at her reflection. She didn’t recognize the woman in the mirror, and she liked it for once.

It was ridiculous, she knew it was to feel so vain but she couldn’t help but bask in her potential freedom for just one night. She looked gorgeous, she felt confident, and she had earned it all on her own.

Cocking her head to the side, she tried to practice a couple smiles to be camera-ready for when the time came. She turned the corners of her lips up, then showed her teeth, and even tried fluffing her hair up sensually. Biting her lip slightly, she threw her head back, causing her curled locks to bounce and lowered her eyelids to look sexy. She giggled at her own stupidity and poses, completely unaware that a certain winged-man had entered the room and leaned against the door for the past couple of minutes, simply watching the little show she put on.

“That's quite a look you’ve got there hun, why don’t you make those faces more often with me?”

She immediately froze, her breath hitching. She didn’t dare look at him in the eye from the mirror.

“I mean, I’m the only one who should be seeing such a slutty expression anyways, right?” He said ever-so casually, hands in his pockets as he slowly strolled up behind her, and she couldn’t help but think as her eyes darted up to meet him in the mirror that the sadistic shit-eating grin on his face didn’t suit so well with his god-like features.

She visibly wilted, her shoulders hunched and head down in contrast to the tall, powerful woman she had felt like mere seconds ago. Her breath quickened as he leaned over her shoulder, grazing his teeth over the sensitive part under her ear, and she bit her lip harshly to stop the squeak that threatened to escape her trembling lips.

“If I had known that a pretty dress and some makeup would make you act like a wanton little whore, I would’ve done this wayyy sooner. I guess you really are just another dumb bimbo bitch who does anything she’s told if she gets to feel important for a night.” He whispered in her ear, resting his head on her shoulder and looking up at her with innocent eyes, ones that imitated the mocking tone of voice he used.

It seemed like he wanted her to feel disgusting, to wilt under his cruel words that he used like knives-knives that were sharpened with his tone and body language, knives that were so intimately and carefully chosen. They worded so that they were used to their full extent to cut and carve through her heart.

“Is that what you are my little songbird, hmm? You wanna be a pretty baby and have everyone’s attention on you? I’m hurt, here I was thinking I was enough for you.” He pouted, and with every word he spoke the grip his hands had around her waist tightened.

She tried to protest but he plowed through her pitiful attempts.

“Hell, if you want some attention so bad and whore yourself out, I should call over some friends! Yeah, we can skip tonight’s gala, would you like that songbird? For me to share you with my friends so they can satiate your whorish needs?” And at his he shook her lightly, his grip around her middle choking her and cutting off her circulation. “N-no, Hawks,” she wheezed out. “I just... liked my makeup, that’s it. I only want you, I promise. I won’t cause any trouble tonight, please don’t call any friends over.”

She looked up at him in the mirror with eyes the size of saucers, blinking away tears and trying her best to show how apologetic she was at her audacity to feel good about herself.

He loosened his arms and straightened up, peering down at her disgustedly. He had absolutely no regrets about the way she sucked in air immediately when he relented, or about the way she frantically brushed the tears from her eyes, trying to preserve her mascara from running. (not that he would’ve minded). She needed to learn her lesson; he controlled her highs and lows. Only he had the permission of holding her fragile emotions in the palm of his hand, and if she didn't want that palm turning into a fist and breaking her, she would do well not to piss him off and treading carefully about flaunting what was meant for his eyes only.

She wanted to lock herself in the bathroom and cry out to her heart's content from being embarrassed and degraded like this. She kept absolutely still however, when she felt his hands lightly tracing the feather on her collarbones. It was an unspoken threat, and when their eyes met once again in the mirror, the way he sized her up confirmed it.

The feather stayed on.

Which brought her back to the present.

Y/N had already downed 3 glasses of champagne while reminiscing about earlier today, something Hawks would’ve surely tutted at. Finding herself bored, she meandered around the bar, keeping close to where he left her.

She scanned the room for her ‘lover’ and found him laughing with a group of his friends, his head thrown back and the charming sound of his deep yet lilted voice carrying through the hall, entrapping anyone who was around.

He certainly had presence, no sense in denying it.

Any girl would’ve been crazy to deny him, and Y/N wished that Hawks had fallen for a girl that didn’t want to deny him out of his hundreds of fangirls a point that was set in stone in Y/N’s mind when she saw a tall brunette clinging to his arm while she shrieked with laughter at whatever stupid story Hawks was telling.

Said fangirl seemed to also have been put under his contagious spell, from the way she so obviously threw herself on his arm and pushed her chest against his side under the pretense of shaking with laughter. Various other parts of her body seemed to be shaking against him too, but he didn’t seem to mind based on the smirk he quickly looked down at her with.

For the second time that night, Y/N wanted to throw up.

Was it jealousy? Negative. Rather, it was frustration that he literally had girls throwing themselves at him, tits hanging out and all but yet he wanted what he knew he couldn’t have. She assumed that it was this mentality of his that landed him at being Number 2, chasing after the seemingly impossible until it was tangible.

It was easier on some days to try to understand his point of view. It was much better than getting lost in the hours pondering what kind of bad karma she inherited from a past life to go through this hell. But on some mornings when she felt stone-cold sober, she remembered that she was a person, not some objective or conquest that he had rightfully won. Deciding to try and take her mind off from the trainwreck that was unfolding in front of her, Y/N aimlessly wandered to the side of the bar and down a grand hallway that was less crowded and had less Hawks.

On either side of the hall, giant bronze frames held the portraits of past heroes and had little scriptures of their accomplishments. Hawks had always talked about how he wanted his name up there, and how one day he was going to do something incredible to have his own face up on the hall of fame. His idol, Endeavor, already has taken place on the wall right next to All Might’s frame, and Y/N looks up and ponders at both of their pictures.

And how befitting is it, that Hawk’s idol is also accused of a sinister and tumultuous family past.

Maybe he doesn’t need to work too hard to follow in the footsteps of the number one hero.

“Quite the hero, Endeavor is. Even though there is controversy about the nature of his past and his redemption efforts, he set many precedents as to how a true hero should act.” Y/N’s head snaps to the right where Edgeshot had just joined her. He wore a navy blue tux with red seams, his trademark mask covering the lower half of his face.

“Yeah, you’d think his admirers would try to follow in the footsteps of changing themselves too,” she muttered bitterly. “I’ve noticed his biggest fans seem to take after his more...old brutish traits rather than the better person he’s trying to be now.”

The masked hero laughed softly, and Y/N looked at him suspiciously.

“What, you don’t think heroes have their own fair share of flaws?” She challenged.

“No no, don’t get me wrong of course. I would be on an inappropriate level of naivety to assume that, considering I’m a part of the whole corrupt system itself. I think, however, that change within a person comes after an extended time of self-reflection. You have to look within yourself and accept that you were wrong in the first place, if you want to change.”

Y/N was quiet for a moment.

“Do you think the villains are ever right? About society brushing the flipside of heroism under the carpet, I mean. It doesn’t matter if the heroes are trying to save people because it's expected of them, if they aren’t actually compassionate about their cause then is there really a point?” She asked desperately, hoping he could understand her.

Edgeshot hesitated for a moment before answering.

“In my years of experience,” he said quietly, still looking up at Endeavor’s painting, “the ones who have at heart a solid reason for acting the way they do are most always justified. It may not always be a good reason, but a foundation always gives way to a justification that can be argued for.”

All of a sudden, Y/N gasped as white hot pain sliced through her sternum. She looked down and saw the red feather on her necklace quivering as a fine line of red sprouted from the cut it made.

“Are you alright?” Edgeshot asked, looking fairly alarmed, his hand reaching for her shoulder.

“Yes, of course! My necklace is just a little sharp, a little edge just nicked me that's all.” She said shrilly, already backing away from the concerned hero. Turning on her heel, she picked up the hem of her dress and tottered out of the hall, not paying any mind to the vermillion plumage that drifted down her chest, past her waist and eventually clinging onto her leg, making little nips and stabs here and there.

Blood was pounding through her head as she navigated the way back to where Hawks had left her to be. Her palms were sweaty and she was sure her hair was becoming messy as she whipped her head around, attempting to look past tall heads and bodies that blocked her way to the bar.

Shitshitshitshit god please don’t let him be there already please please please-

But it seemed as though god wasn’t in a merciful mood, because lo and behold, the raptor was leaning against the long granite island with a glass in his hand.

He seemed to be casually grinning, swirling a maroon substance in his cup and choking it down leisurely, but as Y/N drew closer she knew-as expected- he seemed off.

The smell of alcohol was nauseating around him, he must have been drinking something strong. His wings, although lightly flapping behind him, were pointed at the edges and shaking lightly. His eyes were completely dilated, and were shifting around the room until they settled on her meek figure rushing up to him.

“Hey there birdy, long time no see. Did you have a good chat with Edgeshot? I’m sure you both enjoyed talking shit about me behind my back.” Y/N winced at how charismatic and booming his laugh was after his ominous remark. It was too carefree, a complete cover-up of how she knew he was actually feeling, and that scared her the most.

“Hawks I-”

“Keigo, sweetheart, did you forget my name already after talking with just one person? Damn, I’m hurt, guess keeping you locked up at home was the right decision after all if you’re acting like such a stone-cold bitch now.”

She stared up at him, openmouthed and thoroughly panicked now. He was talking too much, he was going to expose himself and her-

Wait. Why is she covering for him? Wouldn’t it be better if he blabbed everything else so people could realize what he’s doing? Maybe someone would intervene and save her!

But it seemed like he was three steps ahead of her and had already figured that out, because his face flushed slightly and his eyes darkened and narrowed, with lips set in a flat line. When Y/N saw this change, she tried to back away but he quickly grabbed her hand and yanked her out the room and through the exit doors. It was all happening so fast, she could hear various people call out to Hawks but he plowed through them so fast that she didn’t have time to even process that they were out of the building and in the air.

She screamed as he soared to an even higher altitude, clinging onto his neck for dear life. The wind whipped past her face, stinging her cheeks with the frigid cold and water particles that embedded on her lashes. Hawks was laughing hysterically the entire time he gained height, his talons ripping through her dress and piercing her skin, even overlapping the previous cuts his feather had made earlier.

“S-stop, what’re you doing, are you fucking crazy?” She shrieked, her words losing volume as the air was ripped out of her lungs.

“KEIGO, its KEIGO you stupid fucking cunt!” he screamed in her face. His arms loosened around her waist, and suddenly Y/N was falling, falling, falling straight for the asphalt.

She couldn’t even turn her head as her limp body plummeted down for imminent death. Her lungs begged for oxygen, fear settling like lead in her stomach, but the second she closed her eyes for what she thought was the last time, (Hawks) Keigo swooped down and yanked her back into his sinister embrace by her hair.

Ignoring the ripping strands she felt in her skull, she flailed around in midair trying to grab onto something-she reached up to grab his foot but he noticed and kicked her square in the face. Y/N had never before felt such terror and pain, mentally or physically.

Damn her pride, she wants to live for god's sake.

“Keigo,” she sobbed, remembering just in time to use his real name lest he smash her teeth in again, “please put me down, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I talked to Edgeshot but I swear it wasn’t anything bad or about you.” The warm blood streaming down her nose began to harden on her upper lip from the chilly altitude they had reached.

Abruptly, he shifted his grip and pulled her up by her hair (she winced at that painful adjustment) so that he could hold her around her waist now.

They had to have been at least 200 or so feet in the air. The pair had cleared their way through some clouds and could clearly see the full moon right in front of them. It was deathly quiet except for Y/N’s labored breathing through her fractured nose, and her fear racked even further as she looked up at Hawks and realized that he was simply staring down at her with completely dilated eyes that narrowed and gleamed at her expression. He truly looked like a bird of prey right now, a predator that was forcing her to play the part of his prey, a point that solidified when he suddenly wrapped one hand around her throat to feel her heartbeat that thumped like a rabbits’.

The light from the moon reflected off his back, causing his front to be completely shadowed so that the contours of his sharp face seemed ever more looming and dangerous. Both of them stayed suspended in the air for a minute or two like that, Y/N not daring to speak unless he granted her a sign to repent.

After a long, painstakingly suspenseful minute of studying her face, he finally growled “We’re going home.”

It seemed to take only a mere couple of minutes for the Number Two hero to travel halfway across the city. Y/N barely had time to try and drink in the beautiful colors that accented the winding streets and buildings below her, knowing that it would most probably be a long time before she saw anything else that resembled freedom again.

He finally began to descend rapidly, forcing her to cling onto his jacket and shove her face into the crook of his neck to avoid getting whiplash. Peeking through her lashes, she recognized the balcony floor of his penthouse rushing underneath their feet. Dread and anxiety surged through her veins as he finally landed and postiviley threw her off of him and onto the wooden floor. She slid a good couple of feet and skinned her legs in the process, unable to stop her momentum as she slammed back into a lamp.

Dazed, she saw stars as she rubbed her aching head. Unfortunately she didn’t see him, rushing over to her the second she landed.

He grabbed her jaw tight and wrenched her bleary eyes to look up at him.

What he saw was beautiful.

A trembling mess beneath him, makeup runny and complemented with blood that flowed from her nose like an eternal stream. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the way she kept flinching any time he shifted; it made his pants tighten and caused his teeth to grit in what he measured to be the absolute last bits of self restraint he had for the night. He had truly ruined her, and he internally patted himself on the back at his work.

Was he mad? Yes, wholly and completely at her betrayal of his orders.

Did he regret losing his temper? Absolutely not. In fact, if you ask him, he should get mad at her more often like this. If it merited her pliant and vulnerable being, then who was he to deny such pleasure? Fuck he should’ve done this from the start- blowing up at mild disobediance instead of acting like a doting, patient boyfriend.

“You alive?” he roughly shook her head and her teeth chattered inside her skull while he did so.

“Yes,” she whispered, mouth popped open by his gloved fingers as he shoved a digit inside her warm and wet cavern. It was embarrassing how drool seeped through her lips and dribbled down her chin, but humility was the least concerning factor in her environment at the moment.

“Good. After acting like such a tramp you better fucking be. I told you one thing,” and he slapped her for added emphasis to his frustration, “can you repeat what I told you? Or are you so braindead that you can’t remember the one order I gave you when I trusted you to sit still and look pretty like a good little bitch?”

“Nnngh, no I rem-I remember.” Y/N panted out, attempting to talk through puckered lips and drool. “You told me to stay at the bar and not to move.”

“Exactly. So what part of that was so hard to understand, huh?” He hissed through his teeth, looking deranged.

“I just got bored, that’s all. I wanted to talk to another person…” Even though she didn’t finish her sentence, Hawks understood her perfectly.

I wanted to talk to another person apart from you.

He let out a mocking laugh, stretching his arms over his head to hide his shaking fists. Rage swept through his body like wildfire, licking up his throat and cheeks. His face was flushed and unreadable to Y/N as he sauntered around the couch and plopped down on it, spreading his legs to seem as uncouth as possible.

She sat shivering on the floor, unsure of if he wanted her to follow him or wither away on the floor like a mutt.

As he sighed loudly however, her body immediately tensed as though bracing for another painful impact. She daringly peeked over her shoulder and saw the back of his head protruding from the black and red leather couch. Lazily flicking his wrist up to a height where she could see, he vaguely beckoned her over without saying a word.

Immediately she scampered over to him and situated herself at his feet (where she belonged). Her eyes were downcast, and he begrudgingly accepted it as a form of submission on her part. No sense in beating the disobedience out of her now if she already knows what she did wrong.

Hawks heaved out another heavy sigh and let his head fall backwards. On one hand, he was slightly drunk and his head was killing him-he just wanted to go to sleep and forget today ever happened. However, there was a problem that was contributing to his growing migraine, and that problem was sitting right in front of him, practically kneeling at his feet for mercy. More than sleep, he wanted to take care of said issue and call it a night, so he decided to skip the sweet talk and warm up.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, kid. I’m gonna close my eyes and by the time I open them you better have already thought of a way to make tonight up to me, and you better have already put that plan in action. Then, we’re going to bed and when you wake up you’ll regret the day you even thought of talking to anyone apart from me, since you seem to have forgotten who’s been coddling your ass all this time.” He sneered, relishing at the way Y/N’s face went pale.

True to his word, he closed his eyes, glad to see his last view as the pathetic bitch who was about to service him. The feel of slight fumbling on his zipper made him feel even more drunk and giddy as it was pulled down. Maybe the entire evening wasn’t a complete wash after all.

Yeah, he should take her out a lot more.

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